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  "Four days." A stack of neatly folded shirts joined the jockey shorts. "I'm giving a training seminar in Chicago. Come on in."

  He turned then, moving toward the sliding glass mirrors of his closet.

  Toni's mouth went dry.

  His shirt was unbuttoned. Her blue eyes riveted to the crisp black hair covering the hard contours of his broad chest. The only direction she could seem to make them move in was down, and she followed that tapering line over his flat stomach to where the swirls disappeared beneath the waistband of his slacks.

  Toni had only seen Kyle in his expensively tailored suits, or, at the very least, in an open-collared sport shirt and slacks. But even her vivid imagination hadn't done justice to his physical perfection.

  Good heavens, Toni, she chided herself. He's just your average Greek god, so stop staring at him like this.

  Admonishment was one thing. Practicing what she was preaching to herself was another matter entirely.

  There was something terribly intimate about watching him like this—with him apparently quite comfortable with her presence—and a warm tingling seemed to center in the pit of her stomach.

  Kyle reached into the closet, then glanced back over his shoulder. "Come on in," he repeated, indicating a wide doorway with a nod of his dark head. "The hot tub's in there. I want to show you how to turn it on before I go."

  She couldn't move. Her hands felt clammy again, and her legs didn't want to cooperate with the command her apparently addled brain was giving them.

  Seeing her apprehensive expression, Kyle walked toward her. Obviously he'd mistaken the reason for her reticence. "It's not that complicated," he chuckled, taking her hand and leading her across the springy carpet. "It's just a switch and a couple of buttons."

  His hand felt so warm, so strong, and Toni tried her best to ignore the staccato shocks racing up her arm. She caught a whiff of his faintly spicy aftershave mingling with the heat of his body, the scent adding a frightening awareness to her. already muddled senses.

  It had to be fatigue. That was the only plausible explanation for why she should be reacting like this. Days that began at 5:00 a.m. when the exchange opened on the East Coast and didn't end until 10:00 at night after a meeting with a prospective investor were bound to catch up with her sooner or later. Rest. That's what she needed. Just a couple of days' rest.

  "I think I can handle that," she smiled, feeling better now that she had analyzed her problem. "But I don't think I'll be using it."

  "Why not?"

  "Because my bathing suit's in storage with everything else."

  He tossed her a sideways grin, his eyes traveling quickly down the length of her slender frame. "You don't need one."

  Her response was little more than a faint rush of breath. There was no sense arguing the point unless it became necessary.

  Averting her eyes to the placid pool of water at her feet, she almost jumped out of her skin when it suddenly sprang to life.

  "This switch turns on the jets. . . ."

  Toni barely heard what Kyle was saying. The image that had just formed in her mind refused to vanish. She could see him relaxing in that tub, the water swirling around that magnificent chest, his arm draped around her naked shoulders. She could almost feel his lean hardness pressing against her thighs, her breasts . . .

  "And I try to keep it at around a hundred and one or so."

  "Ah . . . I'm sorry," she mumbled, giving her head a visible shake to dispel the unwanted image. Not fatigue. It had to be total exhaustion for her mind to be working like this. "I guess I wasn't listening."

  Kyle watched her curiously as he explained again, his eyes following the motion of her hand. She was running the pearl she wore back and forth along its fine gold chain at the base of her throat. It was a nervous habit, and an unconscious one.

  A soft light crept into his eyes. Placing one hand on her shoulder, he tipped her chin up with his other. His touch, coming so closely on the heels of her erratic—and erotic—thoughts, made her legs feel about as stable as gelatin.

  "You look beat, princess," he said quietly, his gaze sweeping her pale features. His hand left her shoulder to push back a whisp of golden hair that had loosened itself from its coil.

  Though his fingers barely brushed her cheek, the skin there tingled with a lingering warmth.

  "Why don't you go see what you can find in the fridge for dinner while I finish packing? I've got to leave in about twenty minutes."

  She was sure that what she was seeing in those beautiful slate-gray eyes was only the concern one friend might feel for another. If there was any desire there, it was only the desire that she get out of his way so he wouldn't miss his plane.

  "Do you want me to fix you something?" she asked as his hands slipped to his sides.

  Kyle shook his head and turned into his bedroom. "I'll get something later. If you can't find what you want in the kitchen, leave a note for Madeline next to the phone in there. She'll pick up anything you want from the store."

  "Who's Madeline?" All sorts of pictures were forming in Toni's mind.

  "My housekeeper. She does everything but tuck me into bed at night. She'd probably even do that if I asked her to."

  Toni didn't doubt that for a minute. She couldn't imagine any woman refusing Kyle Donovan anything.

  She had just dropped her apple core into the trash compactor when she heard Kyle's footsteps crossing the parquet-tiled floor.

  "Is that all you ate?"

  "I wasn't that hungry," she replied, turning to lean against the counter. She'd left her suit jacket in her bedroom, along with her shoes. Without the benefit of two-and-a-half-inch heels it seemed that she had to look a long way up to see his face.

  "You're too thin," he observed flatly, positioning himself against the counter next to her. "I thought you looked like you'd filled out a little when I first saw you, but now I actually think you're skinnier."

  A disconcerted frown creased her forehead as she glanced down at the cream silk blouse tucked into her straight skirt. Skinnier? She'd gained five pounds!

  "Let's see what else we can find you to eat."

  "I'm really not hungry." Her words fell on deaf ears as he started to open the cupboard. "I had a big lunch."

  Kyle looked down at her, one hand resting on the cupboard door. "I can only imagine what constitutes 'big' for you." A droll smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, deepening those delicious little laugh lines. "You probably had a couple of soda crackers and a few pieces of dry lettuce. Why are you women always on a diet?"

  The only "diet" Toni had ever been on was to gain weight. "I'm not on one," she mumbled, taking a step back. It never used to bother her to stand next to him. Why did it now? "And I had a salad for lunch . . . with crab in it."

  "Appropriate," he muttered, baiting her just as he used to. "But you need more protein. It's good for your nerves."

  Her nerves could certainly use any help they could get. They'd definitely been acting a little haywire for the past few hours.

  Kyle's remark about her thinness wasn't helping much either. And one of her insecurities was beginning to show.

  Toni had always been self-conscious about her body. Where most women had curves, she had little dips and dents. Lanky and svelte had been her mother's charitable way of describing tall and skinny. Toni had been the only girl in her high school graduating class who had still been wearing a training bra.

  Instead of withdrawing into herself, she had learned to turn a slightly aggressive cheek. Placing both hands on her "skinny" hips, she smugly met his intoxicating smile. "You don't have to play brother-protector anymore, Kyle. I think I can manage my own care and feeding." She watched his thick dark brows quirk upward over his laughing eyes. "You may not have noticed, but I'm a big girl now."

  There was nothing at all brotherly about the way his darkening gaze raked over her. Still leaning with his hand on the cupboard and his tie draped loosely over his fresh white shirt, he looked every inch the
male predator. Cool, calculating and very, very dangerous.

  "Woman," he corrected smoothly. "And I noticed."

  His visual assessment would have shaken her to her toes had she not already determined the cause of her strange reactions to him. Exhaustion. Pure and simple.

  "But I've also noticed a few other things, Ms. Collins. You and I are going to have a long talk when I get back. So be sure and reserve Friday night for me."

  "Which lecture am I going to get this time?" Her tone was teasing, her expression animated. "You can save your breath if you're planning on giving me the one about my 'overly simplistic' views, because, unfortunately, most of your theories have been proven right."

  Toni was sure that she only imagined the slight hardening in his eyes. "Maybe I've developed a few new ones," he said.

  "And I'm to be blessed with your infinite insight and wisdom?"

  "Of course." He abandoned the cabinet and pulled open the freezer. "I always used to share my vast and formidable experience with you, so why should it be any different now?" He dropped a gallon of ice cream on the counter. "That's what friends are for, you know?" He placed a bowl and spoon next to the carton. "Eat this."

  "Too many calories," she returned blandly, knowing that the second he was gone, she'd help herself to a healthy scoop. "I thought you said you weren't on a diet?"

  "I'm not." She grinned at him then, enjoying the familiar ease of their exchange. "I'm only . . ."

  "Being obstinate," he concluded for her. "You always did like to see how far you could push me."

  Her expression was one of angelic innocence, except for the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "I did?"

  "You know you did." Moving past her, he headed out of the kitchen. "But I don't think you ever had any idea of how far you'd gone."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" Her question was directed at his retreating back.

  Following him through the dining room, she stopped when they reached the entry. Kyle picked up his jacket from the table by the front door and, tossing it over his arm, bent to retrieve the flight bag sitting on the floor.

  "There's an extra house key on your dresser," he said, completely ignoring her question. "I'll be at the Chicago Hilton if you need to reach me for anything."

  Seconds later, he was gone.

  Toni stood staring blankly at the carved oak doors, his strangely spoken words echoing in her ears. But I don't think you ever had any idea of how far you'd gone.

  Years ago she would have spent hours dwelling on his mysterious comment. But now, she gave it no further thought. She'd spent enough time trying to figure him out five years ago to know that she'd never understand what motivated him.

  He'd been married once. But the circumstances surrounding his divorce were known only to Kyle and his never-mentioned ex-wife. He'd once told Toni that marriage demanded something he could never give, and the cold finality in his voice had abruptly ended any further discussion on the subject.

  She had always wondered if that was why he seemed to hold a part of himself back—the part that made him unattainable by the women in his life.

  Toni did understand one thing about him though. Kyle loved a challenge. Any challenge. Whether it was a way to play the stock market, beating an opponent at tennis, or a woman. Once he had won, he immediately became bored with his trophy and moved on to something else. It was almost as if he were- trying to prove something to himself—that he could have whatever he wanted. Toni had never known him to lose. It hadn't been until she'd been away from Kyle for over a year that she'd realized how wrong he would have been for her—even if he had been interested. Whatever it was that drove him, nurtured that streak of ruthlessness, also made him scoff at the very things she wanted most.

  Toni was still very much a romantic, though a practiced veneer of sophistication covered it. A closet romantic since she had learned how people laugh at such idealistic attitudes. But she still harbored the dream that someday she would fall in love with someone, marry and bear his children. The career that came first now would willingly be given second place. Right now though, that career was al^,she had.

  Undoubtedly Kyle would still laugh at her old-fashioned ideas. People can't change then-basic beliefs any more easily than a leopard can change its spots. Kyle seemed to have softened a little, but he couldn't possibly have changed that much. Not that it mattered. Despite their differences, he was and always would be her friend. A very special friend.

  Toni was certain that, this time, she was in no danger of falling in love with him. She didn't bother to wonder why it was so necessary to reassure herself of that.

  Chapter 2

  The last thing Toni expected when she returned to Kyle's house Friday night, was to see him sitting on the front steps. An irritated scowl creased his darkly attractive features, and as he glanced up at her he looked anything but pleased.

  "Forget your key?" she asked, her heels tapping on the flagstone walkway as she approached. Holding her key out to him, she slowly lowered her hand. One of the double doors behind him was slightly ajar.

  Her eyebrows lowered sharply as she glanced back to where he was sitting. Judging from the half-empty wineglass he was holding and the casual denims and pullover he was wearing, it was obvious that he'd been home for a while. Whatever it was that was causing him to look so disgruntled wasn't that he'd locked himself out.

  "No, I didn't forget my key," he replied dryly. Averting his glance from her puzzled expression, he pulled himself to his feet. When he looked back down at her there was the faintest trace of a smile in his narrowed eyes. "I was beginning to think that you'd forgotten something though. I asked you to keep tonight open for me. Remember?"

  Oh, she remembered! But she had managed to convince herself that it was the pile of work on her desk—and not because she was a little nervous about seeing Kyle again—that had kept her at the office past seven o'clock.

  It was apparent that he was trying to shake his dark mood, but Toni could still sense his tension. The way the hard line of his jaw was working was a dead giveaway.

  Toni knew that she'd be giving herself far too much credit to think that he was upset because she was late. She knew better. Never had she known Kyle to get upset about anything except what mattered to him. And all that really mattered to Kyle Donovan was work.

  Smiling up at htm, a flicker of understanding in her bright blue eyes, she shook her neatly coiffed head. "I can still read you like a book, Donovan." He glared down at her and her smile broadened. "I'm sure that the prospect of being stood up by your roommate isn't the reason you were sitting here looking like you were ready to kill. Do you want to tell me what went wrong in Chicago out here? Or"—glancing down at her tailored black suit, she tugged at the bow on her white blouse—"can I get comfortable first?"

  His expression was only slightly less forbidding when he took her briefcase and motioned her inside. "Get comfortable," he said, stepping back to let her pass. "Then you can help me finish getting dinner ready."

  Toni gave him a curt little nod and headed toward her room. The edge in his voice made her a little uneasy. Maybe he was irritated with her.

  Immediately dismissing that idea, she quickly changed into a pair of slacks and a black oxford shirt. She'd never known Kyle to be on time for anything, unless it involved business, so he couldn't possibly be angry with her for being a couple of hours late. It wasn't that she was late anyway. He hadn't even told her what time he'd be home.

  "Ok," she began the second she entered the kitchen. "What happened in Chicago?"

  Expecting to hear some disaster that had befallen his seminar, she crossed her arms and tilted her head thoughtfully. The skylights in the kitchen ceiling were dark now, but the bright overhead lights made her smoothly coiled hair look almost white.

  "What makes you think something happened there?" Turning, he handed her a glass of wine.

  His guileless expression held absolutely no trace of a frown, and he regarded her steadily. If she hadn't
seen it herself, she wouldn't have believed that the man grinning at her now was the same one she'd met on the porch only minutes ago.

  Genuinely perplexed by his sudden change, she reached for the goblet and studied him warily. "I guess I just thought that something must have happened at the seminar for you to be acting so . . ."

  "So . . . what?" he prodded when she didn't continue.

  Lifting her slender shoulders in a shrug, she turned away. "Never mind," she muttered, raising the glass to her lips. He obviously didn't want to discuss whatever it was, and she wasn't about to pry. Maybe it had something to do with that "little situation" he'd mentioned the other night. If that was the case, she was pretty sure she'd hear about it sooner or later.

  Looking around the spacious kitchen, cryptically noting the array of electrical gadgets occupying the beige tiled counters—a food processor, blender, coffeepot, knife sharpener, toaster— she glanced back toward him. "Plug me in and tell me what you want me to do."

  Having seen the path her inspection had taken, he mumbled, "Cute," and nodded toward the salad sitting in a wooden bowl next to the sink. "Toss it," he instructed as he liberally seasoned two thick steaks.

  Her task took all of fifteen seconds. Taking another sip of wine, she leaned against the counter to watch him. She was careful to note only how easily he moved about the kitchen, and pointedly ignored the way his fiat knit sweater molded the muscular contours of his broad back. Each movement caused those muscles to flex and smooth, and she refused to think about how solid they must feel. Her throat felt a little dry, but she told herself that it had nothing to do with the fact that her eyes were now glued to the soft fabric clinging to his lean hips, or that he had just turned around and she was staring at his zipper.

  Mercifully, he didn't notice the path her eyes had taken this time.

  "So," he said, shoving the steaks under the broiler. "What did you do all week?"

  Her throat didn't feel dry. It was positively parched. A gulp of wine was in order. "Well," she began, with a hasty cough. "You know that the market was up, so things have ..."