and was always complaining about the way they meddled in his life.

"What about grandparents?"

"What about them?"

"Do they live close by?"

"They died when I was little." She started to scrub the pans that couldn't go into the dishwasher.

"Aunts and uncles? Cousins?"

"My parents were only children."

"Then you're all alone."

She skewered him with a glance, her hands wet with suds. "I am not alone. I have Chloe and Kate."

"Who are busy with their own lives these days."

She scowled and scrubbed even harder.

"Sorry," he said. "You probably don't need me reminding you."

She nodded, but didn't look at him.

"Tell me about your mom."

That surprised her. "You don't want to hear about my mom."

"Sure I do."

She hesitated, then renewed her scrubbing without saying a word. But he could tell something had shifted

inside her. After another pan, she actually wrinkled her nose and smiled softly.

"She wasn't anything like me. She didn't wear much makeup or girlie clothes. The most dressed up she ever got was to put on those prim suits like Nancy Reagan used to wear. She was into causes and charity work- but not the social aspect of it. Behind the scenes. On the surface she seemed boring, but more than once I caught her dancing to Donna Summer disco tunes when she thought she was alone." She

laughed out loud. "Once when she saw me, I was terrified that she'd get mad that I was spying on her.

Instead she pulled me into the room and got me to sing and dance 'Hot Stuff with her."

"You knew the words?"

"No, but it didn't matter. I just danced along and moved my lips. It's the most fun I ever had with my

mother."

"She sounds great."

"Yeah, I guess. I always wondered why she didn't go on trips with my dad. I used to get angry that she

wasn't doing a good enough job to keep him home. I realize now that she didn't go because she wasn't invited."

She shook herself.

"If your dad "was traveling all the time and your mom had died, then who raised you?"

"Everyone, no one, whoever was around."

Ben paused in the middle of drying the oversized roasting pan. "What does that mean: Whoever was around?"

"My dad had a revolving-door policy regarding the women in his life. There were a lot."

"All those wild and flamboyant women you mentioned?"

"Exactly. And they were all totally opposite of my mom. I liked some more than others. Though I'm not

sure if I could drum up their names now if my life depended on it."

"So if I've got this right, your mother died when you were young, you had no relatives, and your dad

was gone most of the time, leaving you alone."

She waved the comment away. "I had Zelda."

"The housekeeper?"

"You have a problem with the housekeeper?"

"Well, no. But it seems like ... Never mind."

"Good."

Which made him chuckle. Most people couldn't stand a response of "never mind." They had to probe

and dig out what had been left unsaid. Not Julia.

She looked at him and said, "Now it's your turn."

"My turn?" He finished the last pan and set it aside.

"Yes, your turn. Tell me what you were like as a kid."

He waggled his eyebrows. "I was bad to the bone and as cool as they come."

She snorted. "Unfortunately, I believe you."

"I thought you were reassessing my bad boy status- remember the prime rib remark."

"Oh, yeah, hmmm-"

He tossed the terry cloth towel onto the counter and took a step toward her.

Julia stammered, "Wh-what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

He took a second step toward her, and she bit her lip.

"Tell me about your parents," she managed.

"Both my parents are living and still married."

He took another step closer, and she moved backward until she bumped into the counter.

"You met my grandmother, who is a ball of fire and keeps us all on our toes."

If he was concentrating on what he was saying, Julia couldn't tell. His gaze traveled the length of her.

She couldn't seem to move away.

"You've also met Sterling and my sister, Diana."

That's when he touched her. Just barely. The tips of his fingers on the tip of her shoulder, then trailing

down along the outline of her arm. A shiver ran through her.

"And, of course, you know me."

He smiled at her, a big, crooked smile that burned away any trace of darkness on his face.

"Close your eyes," he commanded softly.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

He chuckled. "Do you trust me?"

She hated to admit that despite everything she did.

"Then close your eyes."

Foolishly breathless, she did as he instructed. She had the feeling that he just looked at her for a second.

Then she felt his warm hand close around her fingers, pulling them to his lips. Then his mouth pressed

against her palm in a gesture that was at once innocent and intensely sexual.

She breathed in a slow and ragged breath. Heat flooded her. Then she felt the sharp bite of something else. Immediately he closed her fingers over whatever he had placed in her hand.

Her eyes flew open, but he wouldn't let her look.