Her hands were tiny but they worked incredibly fast, threading the beads in an arrangement she must be able to see in her mind. She would bite her bottom lip as she concentrated, and he was mesmerized by the little gesture. He was also mesmerized by the way her camisole kept dipping to expose a hint of cleavage.

She'd changed into her pajamas before she'd come to watch television, which was perfectly amenable to Mitch.e.l.l.

He'd asked her questions to begin with, but now he was just watching. She'd look up occasionally, and her eyelashes would flutter down when she realized he was focused on her.

After more than an hour, she caught him looking again and burst out, "Why do you keep staring at me?"

It was a perfectly good opening. He wasn't going to let it slide by. "Because you're too gorgeous not to look at."

"That's ridiculous. I'm not that gorgeous."

"I beg to differ." He reached over and cupped one of her cheeks, his hand looking big and rough against her delicate skin. "I've never seen anyone as gorgeous as you. I don't know how it happened. It just seemed to sneak up on me. I thought you were pretty the first time we met, but now I can't keep my eyes off you."

He hadn't intended to say quite so much-all of it absolutely true-but it seemed to work at least. She blushed deeply, dropping her eyes once more, only to lift them again in that alluring way. His breath actually hitched with a tightening of desire, just from the provocation of her expression.

"I think you're full of it," she said, her voice wobbling slightly, proof that she was responding to him.

"I'm full of something," he admitted, "But it's not what you think."

She blinked and her mouth parted to say something, but he couldn't hold back anymore. Still cupping her cheek, he leaned down to kiss her fully on the mouth.

She made a little whimpering sound, frozen for a few moments as his lips moved against hers. Then something seemed to crack or uncoil inside her. She let out a little moan and grabbed at his neck, holding on as he deepened the kiss.

His blood was coursing with excitement as he gathered her small, lush body in his arms, pulling her up so she was straddling his lap, which was the only comfortable way of kissing her on the floor like this. Then she was all over him, sucking his tongue into her mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck, rubbing herself against him.

She felt warm and real and eager and pa.s.sionate in his arms, and it drove him into deeper need. He wanted to devour her, swallow her whole. His groin was aching with a pulsing need that drove him well beyond thought.

She wanted him too. He could feel it. He wasn't sure he could go much longer without having her.

The kiss finally broke, and she whimpered again as she dropped her head back, exposing the lovely line of her neck for his enjoyment. He leaned forward to nibble a line down it, pausing to mouth at her pulse.

She squirmed, obviously as turned on as he was. He moved his arms so he could hold onto her, spanning the curve of her ribs with his hands just under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She arched into him, flushed and responsive and causing his already hard erection to throb dangerously in his pants.

He wasn't going to be able to wait much longer. He needed to have her. Now.

"Can I take you to bed?" he asked, surprised by how breathless he sounded.

She gave a little moan, rubbing herself against the bulge in his pants, obviously wanting the friction. But then something changed in her body-tightened, cooled down-and she was climbing off his lap. "No. I don't think so."

"Wait," he said, reaching out for her again, "What are you doing?"

"Sorry about all this," she said, hiding her eyes-in a different way than she'd been doing before. "I didn't mean to let it go so far. I was-I don't know what happened, but I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? Why do we have to stop?" He was starting to come to a bleak realization that things weren't going exactly as he'd envisioned them this evening.

"I don't want to have s.e.x." She put the work she'd done in the tin with the beads, her fingers trembling visibly.

He almost choked. "Yes, you do. You were as into things as I was. What the h.e.l.l is going on?"

"I'm sorry," she said again, not meeting his eyes as she straightened up. "I didn't mean to be that kind of tease. I just...I don't want to have s.e.x. I'm going to bed."

"What? Deanna, what-" He broke off as she jumped to her feet. He stood up too, reaching out for her again. "Tell me why we can't have s.e.x when we obviously both want to."

"I don't want to. Not really. Just let me go." She jerked her arm out of his grip, and the move surprised him. He stepped backwards, knocking into the tin of beads, which hadn't been fully closed.

The tin jerked violently and about half the beads spilled out, rolling out in all directions in a huge mess on the smooth hardwood floor.

Mitch.e.l.l groaned. "Deanna!" His arousal was throbbing almost painfully now, and it was obviously not going to be satisfied in the way he wanted.

She was almost at the door, but she turned to say over her shoulder. "I said I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to go that far. But maybe..." she made a strange choking sound. "Maybe I'm not a wife who is as easy to manage as you thought."

Five.

The next morning, Deanna felt like c.r.a.p.

She felt horrible about the night before. She'd always intended to lead him on to a certain extent-make him think he was succeeding before pulling the rug out from under him-but she'd never planned to get so far.

Once he'd started to kiss her, it was like something came alive inside her, something that couldn't be stopped.

She'd come to her senses eventually. Just in time. She'd been on the brink of surrendering everything to him, which would have been a mistake she might never have recovered from. But then she felt like a heartless tease, leaving him turned on that way.

She let her breath out as she stared at the ceiling of an unfamiliar bedroom. Oh well. Nothing to do about it. It was done. She'd apologize this morning and try to do better in the future.

No matter how mad he made her or how condescending he acted toward her, no more games. This was real life. They both were real people who could be hurt. And there could be consequences she didn't foresee.

With this resolved in her mind, she felt better about the whole situation, and she got up to take a shower. There was a coffee maker in her sitting room, so she made herself a cup to drink as she got dressed. It was Sunday, so she pulled on capris and a knit top, wondering what on earth she was supposed to do with herself today in this big unfamiliar house.

If she got too bored, she could always go visit her family. She reminded herself of this as she pulled her hair back in a low ponytail and ventured out of her pretty suite.

She wandered around until she practically ran into Mitch.e.l.l. He must have been working out because he was soaked with sweat, so much that his shirt was sticking to his chest and moisture dripped down the sides of his face.

He still managed to look s.e.xy, but she made herself ignore this fact.

"Morning," she said with an apologetic smile.

"Hi." He was studying her closely, the way he had at the wedding the day before, as if he were still trying to figure her out.

Wanting to get the whole thing over with, she burst out, "Sorry about last night."

At exactly the same time, he burst out, "Sorry about everything," too.

They stared at each other in surprise.

"What are you sorry about?" she asked at last, feeling rattled and even more attracted to him now that he looked almost sheepish-much more sincere than anything she'd seen from him before.

He let out a breath. "Obviously, you overheard what I was saying to Brie last week at the party."

She stared at the floor. "Oh. Yeah. I did."

"I'm sorry I said it. It was an a.s.shole thing to say."

"You didn't know I would overhear."

"Yeah, but still... I was wrong, but even if I wasn't, I feel bad about it. You shouldn't have had to hear that from me."

She glanced up at him to check his expression, and he didn't appear to be trying to play her with his charm the way he'd been doing the day before. He seemed real. Like this was really him. Like he meant what he said.

She had to start believing him, or they'd never make it through the next six months. She nodded. "Thank you. For the apology, I mean. And I'm really sorry about last night."

"You said that last night."

"I know, but I want to say it again, now that we're not both...so distracted. I never meant for that to happen. I never would have...teased you like that."

"I'm glad." He sounded serious and looked it when she focused up at him again. "I still don't know why you're so against having s.e.x."

"I'm not totally against it," she began. At his raised eyebrows, she added, "Okay, I was, since I thought you were...you weren't being nice." She almost caught a twitch of his lips that was remarkably appealing. "But I still don't think it's a good idea. We don't really know each other, and this is going to be hard enough without the complications of s.e.x. I think we need to just focus on making this situation work...at least for the time being."

She hadn't meant to add the last bit, but she was starting not to like the idea of closing the door to s.e.x with him completely.

She kind of wanted to touch him now. She remembered well how it had felt to touch and be touched by him last night. She'd never felt anything like it before in her life.

"Okay," he said lightly. "I don't think it would have to make things complicated-I think we could both just enjoy it for what it is-but we can hold off for now. But we definitely want to avoid a repeat of last night."

"Of course." She gave a firm nod. "So maybe we should agree to not even kiss unless other people are around and we're playing the part."

"You're big on making rules, aren't you?" He appeared to be hiding a smile now, so she knew he wasn't annoyed.

She frowned, since she had never thought of herself that way. "Not really. I just think it's smart to get things straight between us. Last night wasn't...wasn't any fun."

"No. It definitely wasn't." He paused, studying her face again. "So we're all right? About everything, I mean?"

She nodded again. "Yes, I think we're all right. We've got to make this work, so we might as well be reasonable and adult about it and try to get along."

"Sounds like a plan to me. And, speaking of, do you want to go to Charleston next week? I've got to go anyway, so it might be fun for you to come along. We can call it a honeymoon."

She narrowed her eyes at the word, until he said with a low chuckle. "Not that kind of honeymoon. Just a trip you might enjoy. You don't have to come if you don't want to."

"No, I'll come," she said, excited about the idea and excited that he seemed to be so funny and nice when he was being himself. "I've always wanted to go to Charleston, but we never had the money. There's all kind of history there."

"Great." He grinned at her. "We'll leave on Friday, if that's okay with you."

"That sounds great."

"Okay." He wiped his forehead with the back of his forearm. "I better go to take a shower before I drip all over the floor."

She watched him go, enjoying the view of his long legs and tight b.u.t.t, but only after he disappeared did she remember that he'd never agreed to the no-kissing-in-private rule.

On Wednesday, for the weekly public function he was required to attend with Deanna, Mitch.e.l.l had to go to afternoon tea at her grandmother's.

On the first invitation, he thought he had a good excuse for bowing out, since he was deathly allergic to those morbid dead cats of hers. The memory of the sneezing attack and then the revelation of the stuffed corpses of so many Siamese cats all in a row still gave him shivers.

But his excuse was a no-go, since Deanna said sweetly that her grandmother was hosting it in the garden and his allergies wouldn't be a problem.

So Mitch.e.l.l bit back his reluctance and his dozens of reasons not to go-including the fact that it was in the middle of a work day-and said that would be fine.

It was written into the contract, after all. Deanna had attended a c.o.c.ktail party with him this week so he had to go to afternoon tea with her.

Evidently, he also had to dress for the occasion.

That was why he ended up sitting in an uncomfortable wrought-iron chair in the garden of the dilapidated Beaufort house, wearing a tan suit that was way too hot for the heat and humidity of the afternoon, waving away the flies and trying to make polite conversation with Mrs. Beaufort and her cohorts-three other equally elderly Southern ladies.

At least he was being served iced tea instead of hot tea.

Deanna, pretty in a pale green casual cotton dress, was sitting demurely and replying pleasantly to all of the comments aimed at her-and sometimes him. But occasionally he saw her slanting a discreet gaze over to him, as if she were checking him out.

He wasn't sure whether she was critiquing his performance or enjoying his discomfort until he saw her lips purse in suppressed amus.e.m.e.nt.

She was definitely enjoying it.

"Where is your family from, young man?" one of the other ladies asked him.

He gave a slight shrug. "Here and there, I think. My mother was born in Savannah, and my father was just pa.s.sing through." He'd never known his father. He'd never wanted to know him, since the man was obviously an a.s.s, who'd not cared that he'd gotten a woman of no means pregnant.

When he heard a couple of the women gasp, he looked over at Deanna, but she didn't look annoyed or embarra.s.sed by his comment. She was looking at him interestingly. "Did you ever know anything about him?"

He shook his head. "He was a salesman. From up north somewhere. That's all I know."

"Did your mother ever marry?" she asked.

"Deanna," her grandmother hissed. "Don't be gauche."

Deanna looked surprised. "But he's my husband. It's not gauche to ask your husband personal questions, is it?"

"You should know more about him already, dear," one of the women said with a maternal smile. "Don't you two ever talk over your histories?"

Mitch.e.l.l met Deanna's eyes. "We've been talking about other things," he said with a slight lilt to his tone.

The women-except Deanna and her grandmother-t.i.ttered, evidently thinking his comment was somehow daring, and Deanna hid another smile.