She heard his groan. His hands settled over her waist, then kneaded her behind. She opened her mouth and let her tongue mingle with his. He was a great kisser. She'd been thinking about their first kiss for so long now, ever since the wedding. But this kiss was different. It was pa.s.sion for the man she'd been falling for, more and more as the weeks went on.

She'd never been kissed in a lift before. The bell rang and too soon the doors rattled open. She felt the rush of the cooler lobby air. Still, neither of them moved.

The door shut again, and they were alone. She cupped his rough cheek with one of her hands, the other holding her bag.

"You still want to do this?" he asked, breaking the kiss. "You still want to go to my parents' house for dinner?"

"Yes," she answered breathlessly.

"d.a.m.n." He stared, rubbing a hand across his mouth. "You do like to play with fire, don't you?"

She did. She liked to play with him. But he was right-giving in to the physical attraction wouldn't be smart. She enjoyed Jacob, but he was only for now, for easing the loneliness she felt here in New York.

She smoothed her hand over her hair, fixing it, and then adjusted her bra and her shirt again. She tried to remember what they'd been talking about.

"Don't you think that since your mum is a countrywoman of mine, it might be easier for me to talk with her?" she asked.

"You can't bring that up with her. Trust me."

"I do trust you." She straightened his crooked scarf. "But knowing that we have that in common is very appealing to me."

He squinted at her. "You think so?"

"It's brilliant." She playfully poked him in the chest. "There's no need to be worried. I can handle dinner with your people."

"Yeah," he said slowly. "You do have a talent for talking with anybody."

"Thank you, I think." She was curious about meeting his family. The way a person interacted with their parents and siblings told so much about them.

She felt certain she knew Jacob well enough already, and this would only be verification of what she trusted about him.

No matter what happened, though, she clearly knew her intent: she flew home in two weeks, and then, if she was focused and if Jacob helped, she could take another step toward the job she truly wanted.

"Are you parked in front?" she asked, heading for the exit.

"Yes. But first I'm curious-what's in the bag?" He touched the white paper bag with the colorful logo that she carried pressed against her chest.

"I wanted to bring your mum a small hostess gift, something for later, just for her."

He frowned at her. "Nothing Scottish, right?"

"Give me some credit! New York City has the best bagels, so I picked some up an hour ago, fresh from a market I just discovered. New York really is lovely, Jacob. If I could have been sure the cream cheese wouldn't spoil, I'd have brought that along, too."

She smiled brilliantly at him. "Any more concerns about me today?"

HE'D BEEN SIMULTANEOUSLY dreading this day and welcoming it.

Welcoming it because he got to see her again. Bask in the ease of her company and partake of the drug that was uniquely Isabel.

She made him smile and feel alive again. She smelled amazing, she looked fantastic and he couldn't get enough. He hadn't planned to kiss her, but she hadn't stopped him, either.

He pushed the dread back to another place and led her to the curb where he'd parked in a fire lane. He'd put an emergency light on the roof, as a signal to the meter maids. He didn't normally take advantage like this, but he'd known he wouldn't be gone long.

"This isn't the SUV you used for the wedding," Isabel noted.

"No, it's my personal car. The black SUV was Lee's vehicle."

She settled into the pa.s.senger seat and quickly found the b.u.t.ton for the seat warmer. Wriggling her bottom, she sighed. Isabel loved those seat warmers. Bun warmers, she charmingly called them.

"So..." she chattered. "What is the route for today? I love our American road trips together."

He hid his smile as he pushed the b.u.t.tons to program the GPS for her. "Here are the directions. I know you like to follow along."

"Brilliant," she said, squinting at the map on the screen. "And how long will this journey take?"

"About an hour without any brutal traffic." He said brutal because the word made her laugh.

"Lovely." She grinned at him. "And when was the last time you visited your parents?" Her fantastic hair was fanned over the headrest. He was sure she was attempting to charm him.

"Ah...this week," he said. "Before that, I don't know. Maybe a few months ago?" He felt himself frowning. "I've traveled a lot for work this year."

He glanced over at her. Traveling. He hated that he'd made a reference reminding her that this was just a temporary relationship.

She smiled at him as if to buck him up. Another thing he loved about her. "Who will be there today?" she asked.

An even worse topic, but she was right, he did need to give her the lowdown.

"I have three younger siblings. They'll be there, and they sometimes have friends hanging around, in and out of the house like it's Grand Central Station. My mother is a homemaker. She loves taking care of everybody. My stepfather is the math department head at the local high school. He coaches soccer, too."

"Grandparents?"

"Yes, Daniel's parents will be there, plus his sister and brother and their spouses. Probably at least fifteen people in all."

"Impressive."

"Keep that thought in mind," Jacob said drily. He'd already phoned them to ask permission to bring a guest to dinner. "Of course," Daniel had answered. "And who is the guest?"

"Isabel," he'd simply replied. Emily had come on the line to quiz him after that. What was Isabel like? What had Jacob told her about them? It made a sad kind of sense to Jacob that his young sister, not even out of high school, would be so concerned about who came into the house. He'd once given himself that job of concerned watchkeeper, too. Maybe she was the one in the generation who'd taken up the mantle.

"She's a friend," Jacob had told her.

"A friend from where?" Emily had asked.

"She's a student in New York City by way of Scotland," he'd answered.

"Jacob, you are so unbelievable," Emily had said.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to see Mom upset."

"There won't be any arguing or discussion about Mom's past in Scotland, I promise."

But he knew he had a problem. He had no idea how any of them were going to react to Isabel's presence.

"That's a beautiful park," Isabel said, breaking into his thoughts. Her musical voice both calmed him and further reminded him of the upcoming ordeal.

"Sorry?"

"That park." She pointed to his left. It seemed she observed everything they pa.s.sed with joy and interest. He could live with this, easily-a woman who brightened his day with just her presence. When he allowed himself to relax with her, she made him feel whole. "And is that the Hudson River?"

"Yeah." The river sparkled in the distance. "And not too far away is the spot where a jet landed on the water some years back. There's a famous photograph of the pa.s.sengers standing on both wings. It was a horrible situation, but a great pilot was able to turn it into a miracle."

"I remember that story," she said. "What an uplifting ending."

The thought gave him hope. He glanced at the park beside the river, a strip of green lined with community gardens, now showing the gourds of the season. There were joggers and dog walkers and people pushing baby carriages while they enjoyed the sun, even on Thanksgiving Day.

These signs of their bustling hive were the best parts of New York. Isabel was getting ready to leave the city, but before she did, he had a few more weeks of her company here.

He drummed his fingers on the wheel, their conversation dying out. It often went like this with them at night, before they went to sleep, if one of them remembered that this...whatever they were doing...was for a practical purpose only and with an end in sight.

"You're nervous," Isabel remarked, turning from the road to look at him.

"I wish it were different."

"I told you, I'm okay with meeting new people."

"Yeah, but you don't know these people."

She swiveled her head toward him. After a moment, she asked, "Will it help if I promise to stick by you whatever happens?"

It would, but he wasn't that naive. "That's a big promise."

"I know." She smiled. "But you did it for me at Malcolm's wedding. There were parts of that day that were awkward for both of us."

He ran his finger around the steering wheel. "If I can show you the best of Thanksgiving, then our day will be a success. There's a reason it's a pretty good tradition that we keep going back to."

She was just looking at him, blinking, her head tilted.

Wow. How much is she changing me? She actually had him almost believing this c.r.a.p.

Eddie had a theory, one of his half-baked philosophies, that women civilized men. Jacob had always scoffed at that. In his own life, women had usually served to rile him up or make him crazy or even just sadden him, like his mom. But Isabel...she calmed him. She centered him.

She also made him want to tear her clothes off and make love to her, which was another thing driving him insane.

"I've gotta be honest, Isabel. By bringing you home, they're gonna think we're dating or something. We both know...what this is we're doing." He glanced at her. But instead of being hurt or insulted, she was nodding, too.

"You can tell them that you're making me feel less lonely," she said.

"Am I?"

"Aye." She winked at him. "We're a good team that way."

But there were other, more important things that made them a lousy team, and Isabel didn't even know it.

Jacob pulled the car into a parking spot on the street, on the hill below his mom and Daniel's home. The driveway was lined three-deep with other vehicles from his visiting relatives. "Last chance. Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked as he shut off the engine. "There's still time to back out."

"Get on with you, then." She opened the door and stepped resolutely onto the lawn. "Escort me inside, Mr. Ross."

CHOCOLATE CREAM PIE. Pecan pie. Apple pie. Pumpkin pie.

Isabel jumped into the spirit of the event and tried a sliver of each. But her personal favorite was the apple pie, with a crispy b.u.t.ter crust and lots of cinnamon and nutmeg.

Fourteen people in three generations-plus a small white dog named Lulu who begged by their feet-sat at a large oval dining table set with pretty china plates, glittering silverware, crystal gla.s.ses and a centerpiece of roses.

Jacob's mum loaded the table with course after course of food. A professional-level cook, in Isabel's opinion, her grandest dish was a ma.s.sive turkey that had been marched into the room by Jacob's sister, Emily, a teen still dressed in her cheerleader skirt and school jumper from their earlier "football" outing-American football, and not the "soccer" Isabel had envisioned. The turkey was carved by Jacob's stepfather.

Then, as Jacob had described to her, they pa.s.sed side dishes of mashed potatoes, green beans, cranberry sauce, gravy and b.u.t.tered rolls. Isabel was given to understand that Jacob's mum had prepared it all herself, refusing any help. She must have worked in the kitchen for days, Isabel decided. She hadn't had the chance to talk much alone with Jacob's mum, since Jacob had timed their arrival so precisely that as soon as they'd taken off their coats, they were hustled to their places for the meal.

Still, it was quite apparent to Isabel that Jacob was protective of his mum. He sat next to her, with Isabel on the other side of him. She sensed an undercurrent of tension in the room. Not a lot of the conversation was directed his way, but Isabel easily fielded questions and brought him into the fold where she could. It seemed sad to her, really. His family were lovely people, and she hadn't quite figured out the dynamics at play.

"Did your team win their match?" Isabel asked Emily, who'd alternated between helping her mother ferry serving dishes to the table and ignoring the conversation in favor of silently watching the interplay between her and Jacob.

"Match," chortled Zach, the youngest brother. He was a skinny lad who'd had to be told to turn off his mobile phone at the table. Still, he kept it between his thigh and the chair, glancing down at it every now and then.

Emily elbowed him. "Don't be rude."

"It's all right." Isabel laughed at herself. "Sorry, I meant game."

"Emily doesn't know the difference between offense and defense," Danny, the older brother, teased.

"They lost. That's all that counts." Emily stopped pouting and gazed at Isabel. "You don't have Thanksgiving in your country, do you?"

There was a slight silence at the table. Emily seemed mortified. She put her hand over her mouth and went pale, glancing quickly at her mum.

Isabel felt sorry for Emily. She supposed that Jacob's family were aware that she was Scottish, but it seemed n.o.body wanted to pick at that scab. Jacob had put his fork down and was observing his mum, who said nothing. There was a sort of tug-of-war at work, but Isabel was just getting bits and pieces of what it all meant.

Isabel smiled at Emily. She had seen the frowns around the table. She could go with it, do what they wanted and brush off the question. But she looked at Emily and decided to be kind to her.

It was very odd. Emily reminded her of herself at that age. Indulged by her father. Watching him watching her.

"We have harvest festivals near Edinburgh in October and November, but not a formal holiday. Right about now, the Christmas decorations are going up. It's my favorite time of year. The New Year's holiday is big, too. We call it Hogmanay."

"Hogmanay." Zach laughed.