"Knowing Hannah, she probably thinks I said it in some desperate attempt to keep her baking me cookies."

Edward clapped his hand on Jordan's back. "She just needs a little romancing to convince her. Come on. It's late. Let's go home."

On their trip back to the lobby, Jordan racked his brain for some way to convince Hannah of his sincerity. Her voice echoed in his memory, reinforcing his grandfather's advice. 'I deserve love, romance-and marriage. I refuse to settle for anything less.'

"Gramps, how about I let one of the security guys run you home?"

"Why? Where are you going?"

"To Hannah's. If she needs romance to believe I love her, then, damn it, it's romance she's going to get."

Chapter 20.

rec*on*cil*i*a*tion n. 1. The act of reconciling; reestablishing a close relationship. 2. See penance.

There is no sweeter moment than when your two-timing ex admits he wants you back and learns you've found someone else with a nicer car and bigger stick shift.

Jordan's words of love stung like lemon juice in a paper cut. Hannah yanked the sheet over her shoulder and punched her pillow several times. Talk was cheap. If he truly cared, he'd offer her the rest of his life instead of financial security.

The hour of sleep she'd already gotten had taken the edge off her exhaustion. At midnight, she was still tossing and turning, staring into the dark. When the doorbell's chime reverberated through her apartment, she stiffened.

Why couldn't he just leave her to her misery? She flipped back the covers and padded barefoot into the living room. "Jordan, go away," she called through the door. "I can't deal with you right now."

"It's not Jordan, Hannah-whoever he is. Would you let me in, please?"

"Kevin?" She glanced down at the pink cotton baby doll nightie her ex-fiance had already seen her in on a dozen occasions and flung open the door. "What on earth are you doing here?"

He scanned her from the top of her bed-head to her polished toes. "Man, you look pretty. What'd you do to your hair? I like it that way."

"What do you want?"

He shot a sheepish grin at her and shrugged one shoulder. He looked awful. His normally impeccable clothes were rumpled, and he didn't appear to have shaved that day. "Would you believe my car broke down about a mile from here?"

"Oh, really?" She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Scout's honor." Kevin held up his right hand as if he were taking an oath in court. "But I admit the reason I was so close is because I've been driving around town all evening, trying to work up the courage to knock on your door. Aren't you gonna invite me in?"

"What about Gina?"

"We broke up less than a month after she moved in with me."

Hannah couldn't help feeling a bit smug that it hadn't worked out between them. Stepping back, she let him into the apartment and closed the door.

"That's as long as it took me to realize what a huge mistake I'd made. You're the most perfect woman any man could ever ask for in a wife. And I was a fool not to see it."

It was all she could do not to gag.

"Yes, that's very true." She chuckled to herself, realizing, for the first time in her life, she truly believed any man would be lucky to marry her.

Kevin sank onto the sofa and pulled her down next to him. "I need you to understand why I-" He raked his fingers through his short-cropped blond hair. "I was so frustrated when I couldn't give you as much pleasure as you gave me. I felt sort of, uhhh...."

"Inadequate?" she supplied.

Nodding, he looked at the floor and sighed. "Honey, our wedding was getting closer, and I was scared. And Gina-it was all about sex with her. But it wasn't enough."

"It never is." But Hannah now knew a marriage couldn't thrive without passion, either.

"If you'll give me another chance, we could get professional help or whatever you think we need. I love you, Hannah. I'll do anything to make it work between us. If you think you can forgive me, I'll even love you down south with my mouth once in a while."

Her throat ached at the sincere remorse in Kevin's pleading voice. There wasn't a doubt in her mind he loved her. His offer to perform oral sex simply to please her, despite his previous distaste for the act, proved he might have learned how to compromise. It was possible he'd make a decent husband and father after all.

Kevin was a good-looking CPA with a successful accounting firm, and she had a lot in common with him. If they got back together, she could simply turn the clock back a few months.

In spite of the temptation to reconcile with him, she was smart enough to recognize that Kevin, as nice as he might be, was basically a selfish person. Working for Jordan and her therapy had changed her and made her realize her worth. She deserved to marry a generous man who loved and wanted her as much as she did him and who wouldn't begrudge extending himself to please her.

"I do forgive you, Kev. I felt just as deficient. I know a lot of our problems were my fault. I was so insecure and uptight. But as for us getting back together-that won't work."

He took both of her hands and squeezed them. "Why not?"

"Because I don't love you anymore." She wasn't sure she ever really had. Otherwise, wouldn't she have experienced the kind of intense chemistry she felt with Jordan?

"You've fallen for someone else, haven't you? That Jordan guy you thought was at the door."

She smiled and nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Look, I know I screwed up. If you could just give me a second chance, I'm sure I can make you forget about him."

Right. He should only know the kind of competition he was up against. "I seriously doubt that."

"He made you come, didn't he?"

"You really don't want me to answer that."

"Did he go down on you? Or did he get you off with his dick? I bet he's bigger than me, isn't he?"

Why was everything always about guys' penises? "My decision has nothing to do with Jordan satisfying me. In fact, my relationship with him is going nowhere fast. I simply don't think I could ever trust or love you again."

Kevin stared at her silently for several seconds before he finally shrugged. "Hey, I had my chance. It's my own damn fault for not realizing how good I had it." He heaved a resigned sigh. "So, tell me all about lover boy."

"It would take all night to explain my situation, and I'm exhausted." Plus she knew he couldn't handle hearing everything about Jordan. "Besides, it's all one-sided."

"Maybe I should talk to the fool and tell him what a good thing he's passing up."

"I don't think that's such a good idea." If Kevin felt inadequate before, comparing himself to a dynamic man like Jordan Calder would make him feel absolutely worthless.

Who was that guy? And what would possess her to answer the door wearing a skimpy little scrap like she had on? Jordan peeked from behind the tree in front of Hannah's apartment and watched the shadows flitting across her living room shades.

The fair-haired stranger was way too good-looking. She obviously knew the fellow. Although, she hadn't seemed too sure about letting him in. Maybe the guy was the fourth date. The jerk had exactly ten minutes to leave before Jordan interrupted their little tte--tte. He held his wrist in the dim light spilling from the window and streetlight and watched the minute hand on his Omega crawl around its jeweled face with the speed of a snail.

Five more to go.

As he crept toward the porch, the windows went dark, and his stomach clenched.

No. He'd promised himself he'd trust Hannah. She would never go to bed with another man as long as she was in love with him. There had to be another explanation. He waited a few more minutes, trying desperately to think of one, but images of Hannah tangled in the sheets with pretty boy insisted on flashing through Jordan's head.

Damn it. He stomped up the steps. There was only one way to stop the visions. He restrained himself and knocked lightly, praying she wouldn't disappoint the faith he was trying so hard to have in her. Maybe her electricity went out.

Two seconds later, the door flew open, and the blond fellow appeared from behind it, wearing just a pair of boxer shorts.

Oh, God, no. He was not going to jump to conclusions. There was a logical explanation. "Where's Hannah?"

"Shhh!" The man held his finger to his lips. "You must be Jordan."

"That's right." He shouldered his way into the apartment. If anyone was sharing her bed tonight, it was going to be him.

"Hannah's asleep."

A relieved breath whooshed out of Jordan at the sight of a rumpled sheet and pillow spread out on the sofa. "So who the hell are you?"

"Kevin Jackson."

Jordan shook the man's extended hand. "The amoeba?"

"Huh?" Kevin's handsome features twisted like a pretzel.

"You know-too low to be categorized as more than a single-celled organism."

Light dawned in Kevin's gaze, and he laughed softly. "Yeah, I guess that would be me. Hannah's a pistol, isn't she?" He glanced down at his bare chest and hairy legs. "I suppose you're wondering why I'm sleeping here."

"You could say that."

Kevin explained about having car trouble and his unsuccessful reconciliation plans. "Hannah offered to let me sack out on her sofa, so I could wait until daylight to deal with having my car towed. I didn't have a very good night."

"I'd say not."

"You know, if you let her get away, you're an even bigger ass than I am."

"Believe me, I don't intend to."

Kevin snorted. "That's not the way I hear it."

"That's only because she doesn't believe how crazy I am about her. Anyway-" Jordan creased his forehead. "Why are you trying to help me if you love her so damn much?"

"Because I do. She deserves to be happy."

Jordan tossed his keys to Kevin. "You can take my car home. I'll come by your house tomorrow morning and pick it up. "

"Gee, thanks."

While Hannah's ex-fiance pulled on his clothes, Jordan wrote down the guy's address and phone number. Kevin swung open the apartment door and peered out to the darkness. "So which car's yours?"

"The silver Lamborghini."

"Lamborgh-" Kevin did a double take at Jordan. "You're shittin' me, right?"

"No, it's right there." He pointed to the sports car parked across the street.

"You're gonna trust me with a car worth over a two hundred grand?"

"It's insured. And besides,"-Jordan patted the shirt pocket he'd stuffed Kevin's address in and said in a bad Godfather imitation-"I know where you live."

A broad palm cupped Hannah's breast, drawing her back against a hard male body and molding her fanny against the comforting heat. Razor stubble rasped across the tender skin on her neck while soft lips nibbled her ear. Whimpering, she arched her back and thrust her breast into the caressing hand.

"I don't want to lose you, Hannah," a deep voice whispered.

She had never had such a vivid dream before. She turned and wrapped her legs around the hard male body and stiffened. Her eyelids popped open as if they were spring-loaded. There really was a man in her bed.

She never should've let him stay. "Kevin, I told you, I-"

"I sent Kevin home," Jordan's deep baritone rumbled in her ear.

"Jordan! You have a lot of nerve-"

He smothered her tirade with a deep, lingering kiss that stole her breath. His tongue danced in her mouth, and every inch of her vibrated.

Unable to resist pressing closer, Hannah's limbs inexorably wound tighter around him. His talented hands played her tingling body like a virtuoso, his fingers plucking her nipples and strumming her slick center to coax a symphony of sighs and moans from her.

"Please." She gasped, finally summoning up the willpower to push him away. She sat up, snapped on the lamp, and squinted at him from the sudden glare. "How dare you crawl into my bed uninvited and molest me?"

The stunned, wounded look on his face made her wish she could stuff her words back down her throat.

"You really believe I'd force you?" he rasped in a bewildered whisper, looking as if he might be sick at any moment. "You told me love is all about trust. If you honestly care for me, how can you think I would ever hurt you?"

To insinuate his tender lovemaking was remotely similar to what Eric had done to her on the beach had been the ultimate in prime, Grade-A bitchiness.

Heck, while she'd been at it, why hadn't she simply plunged the knife all the way in and asked if he planned to share her with Kevin, too? That couldn't hurt Jordan any worse than equating him with his ex-fiancee, Marcy.

"Please forgive me. I swear I wasn't suggesting you'd do anything like that."