The comforter slipped, exposing the curve of her breast. Alison didn't notice, but Drew's concentration went south. His resolve faltered. He swore he wasn't going to let her get to him. He swore he was going to use this time to talk to her. To do the right thing and tell her that sometimes love wasn't enough. That even though they'd breached the parameters of friendship, that remaining friends was going to have to be enough. He would do it to protect her. To protect Kevin.

To protect himself.

But the words tangled in his throat. And when she looked at him from beneath the dark sweep of her lashes, he finally realized the gravity of his mistake.

He'd fallen in love with her. Not as a friend, he realized with a rise of panic, but in every way that a man could love a woman.

Desperate now to touch her, to feel her against him, he reached for her. She sighed when he pulled her against him. When he nudged her with his s.e.x, she opened and he slipped inside her, began to move. Closing his eyes against the hot burst of ecstasy, he pumped into her, trying desperately to forget, trying even harder not to feel.

He failed on both counts.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

Alison woke to the sound of clanging. Groggy, she opened her eyes to see the gray light of dawn slanting in through the window. The bedroom door stood ajar. c.o.c.king her head, she listened, realizing belatedly that the clanging was coming from the kitchen. Judging from the aromas of bacon and coffee filling the air, she suspected Kevin and Drew were fixing breakfast.

Comforted by that, she sank back into the pillows and stretched like a lazy cat. Everything that had happened between her and Drew the night before rushed back. A thrill that was part emotional, part s.e.xual ran the length of her body and she smiled. It had been a long time since she'd been with a man, and she'd forgotten how good s.e.x could make a woman feel. For several minutes she lay there, immersed in the memory of their lovemaking and listened to her son and the man she loved chattering and laughing and clanging pans.

Her heart felt so light that she actually laughed aloud. Stretching languidly, she sat up. Her body felt sensuous and alive and incredibly happy. They'd made love most of the night and every moment had been wonderful. At just before dawn, Drew had crept out of the room and sacked out on the sofa. He didn't want Kevin to see that he'd spent the night in her bedroom.

Suddenly, Alison couldn't wait to see them. She couldn't wait to share this beautiful morning with them. To hold her son and kiss the man she loved.

The man she loved.

The thought took her breath away.

After Rick's death, she'd been certain she would never love again. That she would never be this happy or feel this complete. The power of the emotions inside her made her feel giddy and breathless and incredibly alive.

Leaving the bed, she pulled on her pajamas and robe, then left the bedroom. At the end of the hall, she stopped and peeked into the kitchen. Her heart clenched at the sight of Kevin and Drew. They were standing side by side, facing the stove. Kevin was standing on a stool with a spatula in his hand and Drew was trying to show him how to flip a pancake. On a plate next to the stove, several mangled pancakes had suffered the effects of Kevin's lack of culinary experience.

"Like this, sprout." Leaning close to him, Drew put his hand over the little boy's and quickly flipped the pancake. "See?"

"Lemme do it!" Kevin cried.

"One more try, or else we're going to run out of batter."

Alison watched as his little shoulders tensed with concentration. Then he shoved the spatula beneath the pancake. Drew's hand hovered close, but Kevin finally managed to turn the flapjack.

"Hey, that's great," Drew said.

"I did it!" Kevin brought his hands together and did a little dance on the chair.

Alison had to put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing aloud. Finger-combing her hair, she entered the kitchen. "Hey, kiddo, you managed that like a pro."

"Mommy!" Kevin jumped off the stool and rushed to her.

She knelt and opened her arms. He threw his arms around her and gave her a smacking kiss on the mouth.

"Drew showed me how to make pancakes and I got to turn them all by myself!"

"I saw that, sweetie."

She looked at Drew over her son's shoulder. His mouth was curved into a smile, but when she met his gaze, his eyes skittered away. A silent alarm went off inside her head, but she could hardly ask Drew what the problem was in front of her four-year-old son.

"Drew said there's a plane graveyard real close to our house, Mommy. He said he'd take us some day when it's not raining."

She glanced at Drew and smiled. He met her gaze this time, but he didn't return the smile. "What on earth is a plane graveyard?" she asked, heading toward the coffeemaker.

"It's where they put all the dead airplanes." He turned to Drew. "Tell her, Drew. Mommy, it sounds so cool. Drew said we could go see the planes. I wanna go!"

"It's an old salvage yard," Drew said to Alison, then he tousled Kevin's hair. "But we can't go in this storm, sprout."

"The storm's getting worse?" she asked, snagging a cup from the cupboard.

"The tropical storm strengthened overnight and is now Hurricane Debbie," said Drew.

"We saw it on the news, Mommy. Boy, I love Florida!"

But Alison knew how dangerous hurricanes could be; Kimberly had been in South Florida during Andrew. Worry trickled into her brain one drop at a time. "How serious is the storm?" she asked Drew.

"Minimal," he replied, keeping his hands busy with another batch of pancakes. "It's a Category 1, right now with sustained winds at about 75 miles per hour. They don't expect a direct hit, so things shouldn't get too bad."

"That's a relief."

"Maybe we can go to the plane graveyard tomorrow," Kevin said.

Alison waited a beat, watching Drew out of the corner of her eye, telling herself he wasn't being distant. That she was imagining things. When he didn't respond, she set her hand on Kevin's shoulder. "Honey, why don't you go wash your face and hands and get ready for breakfast?"

"Aw, Mommy..."

"And did you make your bed?"

He sighed.

"Make your bed, and we'll have breakfast ready when you come out, okay?"

"Mommy-"

"Right now, young man."

"Jeez!" Slapping his arms against his sides, Kevin stomped toward the living room.

She turned toward the stove to find Drew watching her, his expression grim. Her smile felt tremulous on her face, and she knew something was wrong. The realization sent a jolt of uneasiness through her.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Alison, before I say anything..." He paused as if struggling with what he needed to say next. "I just want you to know you and Kevin mean the world to me."

"You say that as if it's a bad thing."

His jaw flexed with tension, his eyes burning into hers. Remembering all the things they'd shared the night before, she suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable. She'd given him the power to hurt her, she realized. And in a small corner of her mind, she knew he was going to do just that.

"I've never been much good at beating around the bush." Setting the spatula on the stove, Drew turned to her and gave her his full attention. "So I'm just going to say what's on my mind."

Alison knew she should say something, but for the life of her she couldn't rally her brain to come up with anything even remotely intelligent. For several long seconds the only sound came from the rain pattering against the window and the hard thrum of her own heart.

"Last night..." He grimaced. "I need to be honest. I'm just not sure it was a good idea."

His words were like a knife, but Alison was prepared and steeled herself against the stab of pain. "Oh, so now that we've slept together, we're back to the friendship thing?"

"That's not how it is."

"Then just how is it, Drew?"

He looked away. When his eyes slid back to hers it was as if he'd slipped on a mask. "I don't want you to base your decision to live in Miami on me. On us. I don't have a whole lot to offer you or Kevin. I'm not the man you think I am. And I'm doing us both a favor by telling you that now."

Alison stared at him, felt the floor caving in beneath her feet. After everything they'd shared the night before, she couldn't believe he would do this to her. That he would be so cold. So hurtful.

"I really appreciate your looking out for our best interest," she said sarcastically. And the pain began to flow, like a river that had flooded its banks to erode a tentative foundation.

"Last night," he began. "Alison, my G.o.d, it was intense and unforgettable. But it wasn't right. I can't forget who I am to you."

"You're the man I've fallen in love with," she said.

He looked away. "I was your husband's best friend. I was there the night he died. I can't just pick up where he left off."

He may as well have struck her. The words had the same effect. She flinched, felt her breath leave her lungs. After all the talking they'd done the night before, she'd believed Drew had finally come to terms with her being Rick's widow. How could she have been so wrong?

"You could have told me you felt that way before you slept with me." She knew that was an unfair statement. Neither of them could have stopped what happened any more than they could stop the waves from beating upon the beach.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "About a lot of things. I know that's not enough, but it's all I've got."

She choked out a laugh, but it sounded more like a sob and was fraught with pain. She didn't know what to say. It was as if all her emotions had tangled inside her and she could no more sort through them than she could a knotted ball of twine.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Drew looked down at the floor. For several seconds the only sound Alison could hear was the pounding of her heart. She could feel it raging in her chest, pumping pain to every cell in her body. Tears burned at the backs of her eyes, but she swiped at them with the sleeve of her robe and refused to succ.u.mb. Her chest felt as if it were splitting in two.

"I think maybe it would be best if you left," she said.

"Alison-"

"Don't you dare tell me you're sorry again, d.a.m.n you." When the tears threatened in earnest, she turned to the stove and stared blindly at the heap of pancakes. "Get out."

"Alison-"

"Now. Get out."

Even though she still had her back to him, she was keenly aware of his hesitation, that he hadn't moved. Tears burned tracks down her cheeks, but she made no move to stop them.

An eternity pa.s.sed before she heard Drew sigh, then walk out of the kitchen. She stared straight ahead, watching the rain slide down the window, hurting more than she'd ever imagined, wondering if she'd done the right thing. A moment later she heard the front door open, and then click quietly shut.

And her heart simply broke.

Drew stared blindly through the windshield of his truck, vaguely aware of the wipers waging a losing war against the rain. In the distance he could see the outline of his house through the torrent. The two-bedroom frame had been built on ten-foot stilts and was situated just a few yards from Emerald Cove inlet. The area was p.r.o.ne to high tides during hurricane season. But the stilts had always saved it from any water damage. Drew had fallen in love with the place the first time he'd seen it.

This morning, however, the house looked and felt incredibly empty. He felt much the same way inside.

He parked in the gravel driveway and sat in his truck, watching the sago palms sway wildly in the gale. But instead of thinking about storm preparations, he thought of Alison. He couldn't believe he'd hurt her the way he had. He hadn't even said goodbye to Kevin. d.a.m.n it, neither of them deserved to be treated like that.

Drew had done the one thing he swore he wouldn't. He'd hurt the two people he cared for most. He'd walked out on them when they'd needed him. He'd broken his word to his best friend.

d.a.m.n it, why the h.e.l.l couldn't she see that they were better off without him?

Flinging open the truck door, he sprinted to the wooden steps that took him to the porch. By the time he got the door unlocked, he was soaked to the skin. But instead of going for a towel, Drew went directly to the phone, s.n.a.t.c.hed it up and dialed Seth's number from memory. Drew might not be able to keep an eye on Alison, but that didn't mean he was going to leave her unprotected after what had happened at Evans Yachts.

He wasn't overly concerned that the man who'd accosted her would make another appearance. DeBruzkya's henchmen were after information about the sub, not Alison or her little boy. She had simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Still, Drew knew from experience that fate was a fickle b.i.t.c.h and didn't always play fair.

"Seth Evans," came his cousin's curt voice.

"It's Drew."

"Hey, Drew." Seth sounded harried and snappish. "h.e.l.l of a storm."

"Everything okay at the marina?"

"Surf is beating the h.e.l.l out of the boats. We're bringing the smaller ones in to dry dock. We're taking the Pisces out to sea to ride out the storm."

"Be careful. It's blowing like h.e.l.l."

"Tell me about it." He paused. "How's Alison? She looked pretty shaken up yesterday."

Drew closed his eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about Alison's state of mind. He knew Seth would have a few choice words when he found out what Drew had done to her. He didn't expect Seth to understand. "I want you to put one of your security people on her house for a couple of days."

A thoughtful silence ensued. "I thought you were going to be with her."

"I'm not."

"Why the h.e.l.l not?"

"I'd rather not get into it, Seth. You're the one who involved her. Can you just get someone out there?"