take a shower too?"

"Yes," Chase said. "But his will be outside and involve a hose."

Willy groaned again, but fell into step with him and Abby as they crossed the street.

Abby had to admit she was torn. She didn't think it was a good idea to spend any time in the presence of Chase Jordan. But darn it, she really, really wanted to.

She had managed to avoid him over the past week, but that was only in the physical sense. He had been on her mind more often than she cared to admit. And she had relived their kiss so many times that she had it as committed to memory as the basics of meiosis and mitosis.

As she followed him up the steps of the porch, she realized she had plenty of other things about the man memorized, too. The fullness of his lower lip. The shape of the dimple in his left cheek. The rich, enticing sound of his laugh, and the way that laughter filled his voice and made her feel included in his happiness.

That same quality laced his words now as he spoke with Willy. "So how exactly did you manage to get so covered?"

Willy glanced up at him and said with great earnestness, "I think mud spreads. It started on my feet and somehow got all the way to my head."

Chase plucked a large clump of the wet dirt from the little boy's hair. "It certainly did. Good thing I found you, or it would have spread right from you to the whole neighborhood." He looked toward Abby and winked.

Abby wondered who the little boy was and how Chase had come to watch him. Their affectionate demeanor showed that Chase had taken care of Willy before. They seemed to have a bond, a true attachment.

"Are you going to come inside? Or do I really make you that uncomfortable?"

Abby blinked, and she realized she was just standing on the porch, staring at the two of them.

"Coming?" he prompted, pushing the door open with one arm, waving her inside with the other. Willy waited on the other side of the door, throwing confused looks between the two adults.

Abby cleared her throat. "Yes."

She walked past the two of them and into the dimly lit front hallway.

"Why do you make her uncomfortable?" she heard Willy whisper.

She couldn't hear Chase's response, and realized he must not have answered when Willy added, "Chase, I think it's the mud and not you that's making her uncomfortable."

"The mud probably isn't helping," Chase agreed in a low voice, and Abby had to smile.

She turned to look at Chase. He offered her a weak smile. "Let me show you to the kitchen."

Abby knew where the room was from years spent here while her grandmother and Old Miss Strout had played cribbage, but she simply followed Chase down the hallway.

When Chase flipped on the kitchen light, Abby would have sworn she had never seen this room before in her life. The kitchen that Abby remembered had been dim and dingy. This kitchen was bright and tidy.

The walls were now painted a sunny shade of yellow with the molding done in a crisp white. The old, cracked linoleum had been replaced with hardwood planks that looked new, yet still fit the old-fashioned style of the kitchen. The room was lovely.

Abby must have made a surprised noise, because all three males-yes, even Chester-stared at her.

"Did you redo this?"

Chase looked around him and then back to her, pride in his eyes. "Yes. I think it turned out pretty good, even if I do say so myself."

"It's beautiful."

Chase went over to the round maple table that was situated in the center of the room and pulled out a chair. "Have a seat, and let me get that coffee started."

Abby hesitated.

"I swear, I'll be on my very best behavior," Chase said with a reassuring smile.

"It's not that," she said and turned so he could see the muddy mess that saturated the back of her slacks. "I don't think you want me to sit on your furniture."

Chase stopped scooping coffee grounds into the basket of the coffeemaker and brushed his hands on his jeans. "Okay, it looks like both of you need a bath."

"I'm not taking a bath with a girl," Willy said firmly, his jaw set and his eyes flinty.

Chase shot Abby an amused glance before addressing the little boy's ardent declaration. "Okay, why don't we let Abby get her bath first. And you can help me bathe Chester before you get yours." The suggestion was obviously quite agreeable as Willy let out a whoop and ran to drag a suspicious Chester outside.

"Stay in the backyard," Chase called after them.

"Okay."

As Chase watched the boy and dog leave, a fondness glittered in his eyes. Abby didn't feel quite so cheerful.

"I don't need to take a bath."

Cocking an eyebrow, Chase scanned her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. His gaze was leisurely and the slight smile on his lips made her feel jittery and ... warm.

"I'd hate to see how dirty you'd have to get before you did consider yourself in need of a bath."

Abby blushed. Here she was a bundle of nerves under his slow perusal, and he was just seeing a woman in desperate need of water and a bar of soap.

"Listen, there's no need to be so twitchy," he said. "You've got to be cold."

"My sister will be home any minute."

Chase shrugged. "Okay. I'll make you that coffee."

Abby watched him for a moment as he finished filling the coffeemaker and moved to the sink to fill the pot with water. A chill ran down her spine, and she had to admit her clothing was a little cold and clammy. She wrapped her arms around herself and began wandering around the room.

It really was beautiful, although she wouldn't have imagined it could ever look this way. In fact, she recalled all the rooms in the old house as being rather cramped and dark. Perhaps it was because Old Miss Strout had been a pack rat and not much of a housekeeper.

Chase seemed to be quite a good housekeeper. The kitchen was spotless-with the exception of the mud that Willy and Chester had trailed into the room. She looked down; her loafers were also caked with dirt. She grimaced.

"Don't worry about it," Chase said, leaning against the counter, arms folded across his broad chest, watching her.

Abby stopped, and she could feel a blush heat her damp skin. "I'm making a terrible mess."

"Nothing that won't clean up."

Abby looked down at the dirty floor again and then back up to see that he was still watching her. She

shivered.

He frowned and pushed away from the counter. "This is ridiculous. You're freezing." He caught her arm and tugged her out of the kitchen.

The next thing Abby knew she was upstairs standing in the doorway of what appeared to be Chase's bedroom. The shades were drawn and the room was cast in shadows, but she could make out the shape of a four-poster bed and a large bureau. Chase rummaged around in the dimness.

"Here," he finally said, returning to her and holding out what appeared to be a robe. "Let me show you to the bathroom, and you can take a shower."

Abby hesitated again, then accepted the bathrobe.

Chase smiled. A hint of triumph flashed in his eyes like the glint of sunshine off the ocean.

Abby nearly handed the robe back, but decided the reaction would be childish. Shewas cold, and surely taking a quick shower wouldn't lead to anything improper. She was a grown woman, and in charge of all her emotions and desires.

"Lead the way," she said with more poise than she felt.

Chase directed her across the hall, opened a door and flipped on the light.

"The towels are in the cabinet to the left of the sink."

Abby nodded, but remained rooted in place. After a moment, she gathered her wits and stepped into the room. It appeared completely remodeled too. A footed bathtub waited very invitingly on the far side of the room.

"Yell if you need anything."

"Okay." She started to close the door, but Chase's hand stopped it. She looked at him questioningly.

"You'll be glad to note there's a lock on the door." Laughter danced in his eyes.

Abby fought the urge to stick her tongue out at him.

Instead she pushed the door shut and firmly turned the lock. She could hear his footfalls and his deep, enchanting laughter as he went downstairs.

Chase's smile faded as he reached the bottom step. He was finding it damned hard to mask his desire for Abby. But he didn't want to scare her off. She always looked like she was ready to dart as it was. He couldn't imagine how she would react if she realized exactly how much he wanted her.

There was something about her that was so enticing. Far more so than any woman he'd met in years. But he just couldn't place his finger on what it was about her that was so alluring.

Physically, she was definitely striking, but he'd been with women that were prettier. Then he recalled how she'd felt in his arms. She'd been so warm, so responsive. Other women might be prettier, but no woman had ever set him ablaze with a single kiss. A kiss he very much wanted to repeat.

He went to the back door and watched Willy throwing a stick for Chester, although his mind wasn't on the romping dog and laughing boy.

She was forbidden fruit, and he wasn't the kind of guy who found those types of games interesting. In fact, he found her attachment to another man quite a nuisance. Maybe if she wasn't seeing Nelson, he might have a chance with her.

No, he didn't have a chance in hell. She was here for one reason, and one reason only. To work on her research. She'd made it abundantly clear that Millbrook was the last place on earth she wanted to be. And her old classmates were the last people on earth she wanted to interact with. He got the distinct impression he was at the top of that list.

But there were moments-brief, fleeting moments- when he thought she almost liked him. Or she at least liked things that were associated with him. She liked yellow kitchens. And fresh-brewed coffee. And muddy dogs and children.

And she had to like his kiss-she couldn't possibly respond like she had if she thoroughly hated him.

"Damn," he muttered and swiped a hand through his hair.She's not interested. She's taken. Let it go .

A small noise behind him caused him to glance over his shoulder. Abby stood at the foot of the stairs, her tall frame engulfed in his thick robe.

Slowly he turned, stunned at how incredible she looked with her wet hair curling slightly around her face and her cheeks pink from the steam of the shower. With all traces of makeup washed away, he could see a dusting of freckles across her nose. It somehow made her wide mouth appear lusher.

"You look amazing." The words were out before he could stop them.

Abby's gaze dropped to the floor, and the pink of her cheeks darkened.

Chase knew he shouldn't, but he found himself walking over to her. Just like his feet, his hand seemed to have a mind of its own. He reached up to touch her damp hair. The dark tendrils curled around his fingers, and he could smell his shampoo in its silkiness.

His shampoo. Possessiveness filled him-as if his scent and his clothing marked her as his.

Abby lifted her head, and as he expected, she looked apprehensive. Then her gaze strayed to his mouth.

Yearning mingled with uneasiness in the depths of her dark brown eyes.

His reaction was immediate. Searing hot lightning shot through his body and straight to his groin. Without

further thought, he knotted his hand in her hair and pulled her lips to his.

He could tell from the stiffness of her spine that he had shocked her. Then a small moan reverberated from her mouth to his, and suddenly she was returning the kiss just as eagerly. Her lips molded to his, and

her fingers dug into his sides, the heat of her palms burning through his T-shirt.

A groan rumbled deep in his chest.

He released her hair and brought both hands to the sides of her face. His thumbs stroked the soft, dewy

skin of her cheeks, and his tongue brushed the hot, tender flesh of her mouth.

"Chase?" The faint, uncertain voice was like a bucket of ice water over his head. He released Abby and spun around to find Willy looking at them, a confused frown creasing his small brow.

"Willy." Chase felt like he been caught doing something far more scandalous than kissing Abby.

Of course, he felt far more aroused than a mere kiss should have made him. He cleared his throat.