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  informative and entertaining. And before you start, you have to take a good, hard look at yourself and stop seeing the discarded wife of a man who didn't value anything as much as himself."

  Her mouth fell open and her lips trembled before she could form words. "What a hideous thing to say."

  "Maybe. But it's time somebody said it. Waste bothers me. You've let yourself be wasted, and it's starting to piss me off."

  "You have no right to say these things to me. Your position with Giambelli doesn't give you a license to be cruel."

  "My position with the company doesn't give me the right to speak the truth as I see it. It doesn't give me the right for this, either," he added and jerked her against him. "But this time it's personal."

  She was too shocked to stop him, to manage even the slightest protest. And when his mouth was on hers, hard and angry, she could do nothing but feel.

  A man's mouth—hot, firm. A man's hands—demanding and strong. The jolt of having her body pressed up to his, to feel that heat, those lines. The sexual threat.

  The blood rushed into her head, one long tidal wave of power. And her body, her heart, starved, leaped into the flood of pleasure.

  On a low moan, she threw her arms around him. They bumped her worktable, sent pots tumbling. Clay cracked against clay with a sound like swords clashing. Nerves, needs, so long deadened, snapped into life to sizzle through her system. Everything seemed to waken at once, threatening overload as her knees went weak and her mouth went wild under his.

  "What?" She was breathless, managed only a gasp as he lifted her off her feet and plunked her down on the bench. "What are we doing?"

  "We'll think about it later."

  He had to touch her, had to feel her flesh under his hands. Already he was tugging at her sweater, fueled by a sexual rush that made him feel like a teenager in the back of a Chevy.

  Rain slapped against the glass walls, and the air was warm and moist, fragrant with flowers, with soil, with the scent of her. She was quaking against him, quick, hard trembles. Delicious little sounds were humming in her throat.

  He wanted to gulp her down, swallow her whole and worry about the fine points later. He couldn't remember when he'd last had this ferocious urge to mate plunging inside of him.

  "Pilar. Let me…" He fought with the button of her slacks.

  If he hadn't said her name, she would have forgotten it. Forgotten everything and simply surrendered to the demands of her own body. But the sound of it jolted her back. And brought the first flutter of panic.

  "Wait. This is—we can't."

  She pushed against him, even as her head fell back and her system shivered at the scrape of his teeth on her throat. "David. No. Wait. Stop."

  "Pilar." He couldn't catch his breath, find his balance. "I want you."

  How many years had it been since she'd heard those words? How many years had it been since she'd seen them in a man's eyes? So many, Pilar thought, that she couldn't trust herself to think or act rationally when she did.

  "David. I'm not ready for this."

  He still had his hands on her, cupped at her waist just under her sweater where her skin was warm and still quivering. "Could've fooled me."

  "I wasn't expecting…" He had such strong hands, she thought. Strong and hard at the palm. So unlike… "Please, could you step back?"

  He stayed exactly where he was. "I wanted you the first minute I saw you. The minute you opened the front door."

  Pleasure sprinted into her, chased by panic, and puzzlement. "I'm—"

  "Don't." He spoke curtly. "Don't say you're flattered."

  "Of course I am. You're very attractive, and—" And she couldn't think straight when he was touching her. "Please. Would you step back?"

  "All right." But it cost him. "You know what happened here doesn't happen every time, with everyone."

  "I think we took each other by surprise," she began and cautiously slid down from the bench.

  "Pilar, we're not children."

  "No, we're not." It flustered her to have to straighten her sweater, to remember how it had felt to have his hands under it. On her. "Which is one of the points. I'm forty-eight years old, David, and you're… well, you're not."

  He hadn't thought anything in the situation would make him laugh. But that did. "You're not going to use a handful of years as an excuse."

  "It's not an excuse. It's a fact. Another is that we've only known each other for a short time."

  "Eight weeks and two days. And that's how long I've imagined getting my hands on you." He trailed his fingers over her hair while she stared at him. "I didn't plan on jumping you in your greenhouse and tearing off your clothes in the middle of your peat pots. But it worked for me at the time. You want something more conventional? I'll pick you up at seven for dinner."

  "David. My husband's been dead only a few weeks."

  "Ex-husband," he said icily. "Don't put him between us, Pilar. I won't tolerate that."

  "Nearly thirty years can't be dismissed overnight, no matter what the circumstances."

  He took her by the shoulders, lifted her up to her toes before she realized just how angry he was. "Tony Avano stopped being your safety zone, Pilar. Deal with it. And deal with me."

  He kissed her again, hard and long, then let her go. "Seven o'clock," he said, and stalked out into the rain.

  Worthless son of a bitch was not going to complicate his life, or Pilar's, from the grave, David determined. His strides were long, his shoulders hunched, and the fury bubbled just under his skin.

  He wasn't going to allow it. There was going to be some straight talk, with all the secrets and shadows shoved into the light. Very soon.

  Because he was scowling at his feet, and Sophia was looking down as she jogged through the rain, they ran hard into each other on the path.

  "Oops," she managed, and slapped a hand on the hat she'd tossed on to protect her from the worst of the wet. "I thought you'd gone home."

  "I had something to do first. I just tried to seduce your mother in the greenhouse. Do you have a problem with that?"

  Sophia's hand fell to her side. "Excuse me?"

  "You heard me. I'm attracted to your mother, and I just acted on it. I fully intend to act on it again as soon as possible. Is that a problem for you?"

  "Ah…"

  "No quick spin? No clever comeback?"

  Even through the daze of shock, she could recognize a furious and frustrated male. "No, sorry. Processing."

  "Well, when you've finished, send me a goddamn memo."

  As he stormed off, Sophia could almost see steam rising off him. Torn between shock and concern, she slapped a hand to the hat again and sprinted to the greenhouse.

  When she burst in, Pilar was standing, staring at her workbench. Pots were scattered, tipped over, and several seedlings were crushed beyond redemption.

  It gave Sophia a very good idea just what had gone on, and where. "Mama?"

  Pilar jumped, then quickly grabbed her gardening gloves. "Yes?"

  Slowly now, Sophia walked forward. Her mother's cheeks were flushed, her hair mussed the way a woman's hair was when a man's hands had run through it.

  "I just saw David."

  Pilar dropped the gloves from fingers that had gone numb, hastily bent to retrieve them. "Oh?"

  "He said he tried to seduce you."

  "He what?" It wasn't panic now but full-blown horror that snapped into Pilar's throat.

  "And from the look of you, he got a good start on it."

  "It was just a…" Unnerved, Pilar snatched up her apron, but couldn't quite remember how to put it on. "We had a disagreement, and he was annoyed. It's really not worth talking about."

  "Mama." Gently, Sophia took the gloves, then the apron, set them down. "Do you have feelings for David?"

  "Really, Sophia, what a question."

  One you're not answering, she thought. "Let's try this. Are you attracted to him?"

  "He's an attractive man."

 
"Agreed."

  "We're not—that is, I'm not…" At wits' end, Pilar braced her hands on the bench. "I'm too old for this."

  "Don't be ridiculous. You're a beautiful woman in the prime of her life. Why shouldn't you have a romance?"

  "I'm not looking for romance."

  "Sex, then."

  "Sophie!"

  "Mama!" Sophia said in the same horrified tone, then threw her arms around her mother. "I started out here afraid I'd hurt your feelings and that you'd be upset. Instead I find you flushed and rumpled after what I assume was a delightful bit of manhandling by our new and very sexy COO. It's wonderful."

  "It's not wonderful, and it's not going to happen again. Sophia, I was married for nearly three decades. I can hardly just pick myself up and jump into another man's arms at this point in my life."

  "Dad's gone, Mama." Sophia kept her arms tight around Pilar, but her voice softened. "It's hard for me to accept that, to live with how it happened, and to adjust to being denied even the chance to say goodbye. It's hard, even knowing he really didn't love me."

  "Oh, Sophie, he did."

  "No." She drew back now. "Not the way I wanted, or needed or looked for. You did, always. He wasn't there for me. And he wasn't there for you. It wasn't in him to be. Now you have a chance to enjoy someone who'll pay attention to you."

  "Oh, baby." Pilar reached out to stroke her daughter's cheek.

  "I want that for you. And I'd be so sad, so angry if I thought you'd push that chance away because of something that never really existed. I love you. I want you happy."

  "I know." Pilar kissed both of Sophia's cheeks. "I know. It takes time to adjust. And oh, cara, it's not just your father and what happened to us, what happened to him that's an issue. It's me. I don't know how to be with someone else, or if I want to be with anyone."

  "How will you know if you don't try?" Sophia started to boost herself onto the bench, than thought better of it. Under the circumstances. "You like him, don't you?"

  "Well, of course I do." Like? she thought. A woman didn't nearly roll naked in potting soil with a man she liked. "He's a very nice man," she managed. "A good father."

  "And you're attracted to him. He's got a terrific ass."

  "Sophia."

  "If you tell me you haven't noticed, I'm going to have to break a commandment and call my mother a liar. Then there's that smile. That fast grin."

  "He has kind eyes," Pilar murmured, forgetting herself and making her daughter sigh.

  "Yes, he does. Are you going out with him?"

  Pilar got busy tidying pots. "I don't know."

  "Go. Explore a little. See what it feels like. And take one of the condoms in my nightstand."

  "Oh, for heaven's sake."

  "On second thought, don't take one." Sophia wrapped an arm around Pilar's waist and giggled. "Take two."

  Chapter Twelve

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  Maddy eyed her father shrewdly as he knotted his tie. It was his First Date tie, the gray with the navy blue stripes. She knew he'd said he and Ms. Giambelli were just going out to dinner so she and Theo would think it was a business kind of thing. But the tie was a dead giveaway.

  She had to think about how she felt about it.

  But at the moment, she was entertaining herself by pushing his parent buttons.

  "It's a symbol of self-expression."

  "It's unsanitary."

  "It's an ancient tradition."

  "It's not a Cutter family ancient tradition. You're not getting your nose pierced, Madeline. That's it."

  She sighed and put on a good sulk. Actually, she had no desire to get her nose pierced but she did want a third piercing in her left earlobe. Working down to it, or over to it, from the nose was good strategy. The kind, she thought, her father would appreciate if he knew about it.

  "It's my body."

  "Not until you're eighteen, it's not. Until that happy day, it's mine. Go nag your brother."

  "I can't. I'm not speaking to him."

  She rolled onto her back on her father's bed, lifted her legs to the ceiling. They were clad in her usual black, but she was starting to get sort of tired of it. "Can I get a tattoo instead?"

  "Oh sure. We'll all go get one this weekend." He turned. "How do I look?"

  Maddy cocked her head, considered. "Better than average."

  "You're such a comfort to me, Maddy."

  "If I get an A on my science report, can I get my nose pierced?"

  "If Theo gets an A on anything, I might consider letting him get his nose pierced."

  Since both ends of the statement were equally farfetched, she laughed. "Come on, Dad."

  "Gotta go." He scooped her off the bed, carting her from the room with his arm around her waist and her feet dangling off the floor.

  The habit, as old as she could remember, never failed to bring a bubble of happiness to her chest. "If I can't do the nose, could I just do another in my left ear? For a little stud?"

  "If you're bound and determined to put more holes in yourself, I'll think about it." He paused by Theo's door, knocked with his free hand.

  "Get lost, creep."

  David looked down at Maddy. "I assume he means you." He pushed open the door to see his son stretched out on the bed, the phone at his ear, rather than sitting at his desk with his homework.

  David felt twin pulls. Annoyance that the assignments were certainly not done, and pleased relief that Theo had already made new friends at school to interfere with his studies.

  "Call you back," Theo muttered and hung up. "I was just taking a break."

  "Yeah, for the entire month," Maddy commented.

  "There's plenty of stuff you can nuke for dinner. I left the number of the restaurant on the pad by the phone, and you've got my cell number. Don't call unless you have to. No fighting, no naked strangers in the house, no touching the alcoholic beverages. Finish your homework, no phone or TV until it's done, and don't set fire to the house. Did I leave anything out?"

  "No blood on the carpet," Maddy put in.

  "Right. If you have to bleed, bleed on the tiles."

  He kissed the top of Maddy's head, then dropped her to her feet. "I should be home by midnight."

  "Dad, I need a car."

  "Uh-huh. And I need a villa in the south of France. Go figure. Lights out at eleven," he added as he turned away.

  "I've got to have wheels," Theo called after him, and swore under his breath as he heard his father walk down the stairs. "You