exie strolled down the aisle as if she were born to play the part of a flower girl. Curls bounced at her shoulders and rose petals fluttered from her gloved hand to the carpet of the small nondenominational church. Georgeanne stood on the left side of the minister and resisted the urge to pull at the hemline of the pink satin and crepe tank dress resting two inches above her knees. Her gaze was fixed on her daughter as Lexie sashayed down the aisle dressed in white lace and beaming as if she were the reason the small group had assembled in the tiny church. Georgeanne couldn’t help beaming a little herself. She was extremely proud of her little drama queen.

When Lexie reached her mother’s side, she turned and smiled at the man standing across the aisle in a navy blue Hugo Boss. She raised three fingers off the handle of her basket and wiggled them. One side of John’s mouth lifted, and he waved two fingers back at her.

The wedding march began and all eyes turned to the doorway. A wreath of white roses and baby’s breath circled Mae’s short blond hair, and the long white organza sheath Georgeanne had helped her choose looked beautiful on her. The dress was simple and emphasized Mae instead of losing her in yards of satin and tulle. The slit up the front gave her short stature a nice vertical line.

Mae walked down the aisle unescorted with her head held high. She hadn’t invited her family, instead filling the bride’s pew with her friends from work. Georgeanne had tried to persuade her to include her estranged parents, but Mae was stubborn. Her parents hadn’t come to Ray’s funeral, she didn’t want them at her wedding. She didn’t want them to ruin the happiest day of her life.

While all eyes were on the bride, Georgeanne took the opportunity to study the groom. In his black tuxedo, Hugh was very handsome, but she wasn’t interested in his looks or the cut of his coat. She watched for his reaction to Mae, and what she saw alleviated some of her worries over the unexpected romance and hurried wedding. He lit up so much that Georgeanne half expected him to hold out his arms so Mae could run into them. His whole face smiled, and his eyes shined liked he’d just won the lottery. He looked like a man desperately in love. It was no wonder Mae had fallen so fast.

As Mae walked passed, she smiled at Georgeanne, then moved to stand beside Hugh.

“Dearly beloved...”

Georgeanne dropped her gaze to the toes of her beige leather T-straps. Desperately in love, she thought. The night before, she’d told Charles that she couldn’t marry him. She couldn’t marry a man she didn’t love desperately. Her gaze moved across the aisle to John’s black tassel loafers. Several times in her life, she’d seen him look at her with lust heavy in his blue eyes. In fact, the last time he’d come to pick up Lexie, she’d seen that “I want to jump your bones” look. But lust wasn’t the same as love. Lust didn’t even last past the next morning, especially with John. Her gaze traveled up his long legs, over his double-breasted jacket, and up his burgundy and navy tie. Her scrutiny moved to his face and to the blue eyes staring back at her.

He smiled. Just a pleasant little smile that sent off warning bells in her head. She turned her attention to the ceremony. John wanted something.

The women seated in the front pews began to softly weep, and Georgeanne glanced in their direction. Even if she hadn’t met them briefly before the wedding, Georgeanne would have guessed they belonged to Hugh. The whole family resembled each other, from his mother and three sisters to his eight nieces and nephews.

They cried throughout the short ceremony, and when it was over, they cried as they followed the recessional. Georgeanne and Lexie walked beside John back up the aisle and through the double doors. Several times the sleeve of his navy blazer almost touched her arm.

In the vestibule Hugh’s mother pushed her son out of the way to get to his bride. “You’re just a doll,” his mother declared as she hugged Mae and passed her around to the sisters.

Georgeanne, John, and Lexie moved out of the way as the small group of Mae’s friends and Hugh’s family gathered around the couple to congratulate them.

“Here.” Lexie handed the basket of rose petals to Georgeanne and sighed. “I’m tired.”

“I think we can go ahead and leave for the reception,” John said as he moved to stand behind Georgeanne. “Why don’t you and Lexie ride with me?”

Georgeanne turned and gazed up at him. He looked extremely fine in his wedding suit, except for the drooping red rose pinned to his lapel. He’d stuck the pin through the stem rather than the body of the flower. “We can’t leave until Wendell takes his pictures.”

“Who?”

“Wendell. He’s the photographer Mae hired, and we can’t leave until he takes the wedding pictures.”

John’s smile turned to a grimace. “Are you sure?”

Georgeanne nodded and pointed to his chest. “Your rose is about to fall off.”

He glanced down and shrugged. “I’m no good at this. Can you fix it?”

Against her better judgment, Georgeanne slipped her fingers beneath the lapel of his navy suit. With his head bent over hers, she pulled out the long straight pin. She was so close, she could feel his breath at her right temple. The smell of his cologne filled her head, and if she turned her face, their mouths would touch. She pushed the pin though the wool and into the dark red rose.

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I won’t. I do this all the time.” She ran her hand down his lapel, smoothing out invisible wrinkles, savoring the texture of expensive wool beneath her fingertips.

“You pin flowers on men all the time?”

She shook her head and her temple brushed his smooth jaw. “I pin them on myself and Mae. For our business.”

He put a hand on her bare arm. “Are you sure you don’t want to ride with me to the reception? Virgil’s going to be there, and I thought you might not want to go alone.”

With the chaos surrounding the wedding, Georgeanne had managed to avoid thinking about her ex-fiancé. The thought of him now formed a lump in her stomach. “Did you tell him about Lexie?”

“He knows.”

“How did he take it?” She slid her fingers over one more invisible wrinkle, then dropped her hand.

John shrugged his big shoulders. “Okay. It’s been seven years, so he’s over it.”

Georgeanne was relieved. “Then I’ll drive myself to the reception, but thank you for the offer.”

“You’re welcome.” His slid his warm palm up to her shoulder, then back down to her wrist. The hair on her arm tingled. “Are you sure about those pictures?”

“What?”

“I hate waiting around to get my picture taken.”

He was doing it again. Taking up all the space and sucking out her ability to think. Touching him was both sweet pleasure and sheer torture. “I would have thought you’d be used to it by now.”

“I don’t mind the pictures, it’s the waiting. I’m not a patient man. When I want something, I like to get it on.”

Georgeanne had a feeling he wasn’t talking about pictures anymore. A few minutes later, as the photographer positioned them on the steps in front of the pulpit, she was forced to endure the whole pleasure/ torture experience again. Wendell positioned them with the women standing in front of the men, while Lexie stood close to Mae.

“I want to see happy little smiles,” the photographer requested, his soft voice suggesting that perhaps he’d gotten in touch with his feminine side. As he looked through the camera on his tripod, he motioned them closer together with his hands. “Come on, I want to see happy little smiles on your happy little faces.”

“Is he related to that artist on PBS?” John asked Hugh out of the side of his mouth.

“The oil-painting dude with the Afro?”

“Yeah. He used to paint happy little clouds and shit.”

“Daddy!” Lexie whispered loudly. “Don’t swear.”

“Sorry.”

“Can you all say ‘wedding night?’ ” Wendell asked.

“Wedding night!” Lexie yelled.

“That’s real good, little flower girl. How about everyone else?”

Georgeanne looked at Mae and they started to laugh.

“Come on get hap-hap-happy.”

“Damn, where did you get this guy?” Hugh wanted to know.

“I’ve known him for years. He was a good friend of Ray’s.”

“Ahh, that explains it then.”

John put his hand on Georgeanne’s waist, and her laugher stopped abruptly. He slid his palm to her stomach and drew her back against the solid wall of his chest. His voice was a low rumble next to her ear when he said, “Say ‘cheese.’ ”

Georgeanne’s breath caught in her throat. “Cheese,” she uttered weakly, and the photographer snapped the picture.

“Now the groom’s family,” Wendell announced as he advanced his film.

The muscles in John’s arm tensed. His fingers curled into a possessive fist, and the hem of her dress rode up her thighs. Then he dropped his hand and took a step backward, putting a few inches between them. Georgeanne glanced at him, and again he gave her that pleasant little smile.

“Hey, Hugh,” he said, then turned his attention to his friend as if he hadn’t just held Georgeanne tight against his chest. “Did you check out Chelios’s when we were in Chicago?”

Georgeanne told herself not to read anything into the embrace. She knew better than to look for motives or attribute feelings that just didn’t exist. She knew better than to fall for his possessive embraces or pleasant smiles. It was best just to forget about it. They meant nothing, led nowhere. She knew better than to expect anything from him.

An hour later, as she stood in the banquet hall next to the buffet table laden with food and flowers, she was still trying to forget. She tried to forget to look for him every few moments, and tried not to notice him standing with a group of men who were obviously hockey players, and laughing with some leggy blonde. She tried to forget, but couldn’t. Any more than she could forget that Virgil was somewhere in the hall.

Georgeanne placed a chocolate-dipped strawberry on a plate she was preparing for Lexie. She added a chicken wing and two pieces of broccoli.

“I want some cake and some of those, too.” Lexie pointed to a crystal bowl filled with wedding mints.

“You had your cake right after Mae and Hugh cut it.” Georgeanne put a few mints on the plate along with a carrot stick and handed the plate to Lexie. Her gaze quickly scanned the crowd.

Then her stomach did a little flip-flop. For the first time in seven years, she saw Virgil Duffy in person. “Go stand by Aunt Mae,” she said, turning her daughter by the shoulder. “I’ll come meet you there in a minute.” She gave Lexie a little push and watched her walk toward the bride and groom. Georgeanne couldn’t spend the rest of the evening wondering if Virgil would confront her and imagining what he might say. She had to get the encounter over with before she lost her nerve. She took a deep breath and, with long, deliberate strides, moved to face her past. She wove her way through the crowd of guests until she stood in front of him.

“Hello, Virgil,” she said and watched his eyes harden.

“Georgeanne, you have the nerve to face me. I’d wondered if you would.” His tone suggested he wasn’t “over it” as John had claimed earlier at the church.

“It’s been seven years, and I’ve moved on with my life.”

“Easy for you. Not so easy for me.”

Physically he hadn’t changed very much. Perhaps his hair had thinned a bit, and his eyes were a little puffy from age. “I think both of us should forget the past.”

“Now, why would I do that?”

She looked at him a moment, beyond the lines on his face, to the bitter man beneath. “I’m sorry for what happened, and for the pain I caused you. I tried to tell you the night before the wedding that I was having second thoughts, but you wouldn’t listen. I’m not blaming you, just explaining how I felt. I was young and immature and I’m sorry. I hope you can accept my apology.”

“When hell freezes over.”

She was surprised to discover that his anger didn’t really bother her. It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t accept her apology. She’d confronted her past and felt free of the guilt she’d carried for years. She wasn’t young and immature anymore. And she wasn’t afraid either. “I’m sorry to hear you say that, but whether or not you accept my apology won’t keep me up at night. My life is filled with people who love me and I’m happy. Your anger and hostility can’t hurt me.”

“You’re still as naive as you were seven years ago,” he said as a woman approached Virgil and placed her hand on his shoulder. Georgeanne immediately recognized Caroline Foster-Duffy from her many pictures in local papers. “John will never marry you. He’ll never choose you over his team,” he added, then he turned and walked away with his wife.

Georgeanne stared after him, puzzled by his parting comment. She wondered if he’d threatened John, and if he had, why John hadn’t told her about it. She shook her head, not knowing what to think. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever thought John would marry her or choose her over anything.

Okay, she conceded as she headed toward Lexie, who was surrounded by the bride and groom and a few tough-looking male wedding guests. Maybe in her wildest dreams she had envisioned John proposing more than a wild night of sex, but that wasn’t reality. Even though she loved him, and he sometimes looked at her with a kind of hungry desire in his eyes, it didn’t mean he loved her in return. It didn’t mean he would choose her for anything more than a roll in the hay. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t abandon her in the morning, leaving her empty and alone.

Georgeanne moved past the stage where a band was setting up and her thoughts returned to Virgil. She’d faced him and freed herself from the burden of her past, and she felt pretty good. “How’s it going?” she asked as she came to stand by Mae.

“Great.” Mae glanced up at her and smiled, looking gorgeous and happy. “At first I was a little nervous about being in the same room with thirty hockey players. But now that I’ve met most of them, they’re really pretty nice, almost human even. Too bad Ray isn’t here. He’d be in heaven around all these thick muscles and tight butts.”

Georgeanne chuckled and plucked a strawberry off Lexie’s plate. She glanced across the room at John and caught him staring at her above the crowd. She bit into the fruit and looked away.

“Hey.” Lexie scowled. “Eat the green stuff next time.”

“Have you met Hugh’s friends?” Mae poked her new husband with her elbow.

“Not yet,” she answered, and popped the rest of the strawberry into her mouth.

Hugh introduced her and Lexie to two men in expensive wool suits and silk ties. The first gentleman, named Mark Butcher, sported a spectacular black eye. “You might recall Dmitri,” Hugh said after he’d made the introduction. “He was at John’s houseboat a few months ago when you came over.”

Georgeanne looked at the man with light brown hair and blue eyes. She didn’t remember him at all. “I thought you looked familiar,” she lied.

“I remember you,” Dmitri said, his accent obvious. “You wore red.”

“Did I?” Georgeanne was flattered that he would recall the color of her dress. “I’m surprised you remember.”

Dmitri smiled and little creases appeared in the corners of his eyes. “I remember. I wear no gold chainz now.”

Georgeanne glanced at Mae, who shrugged and looked up at a grinning Hugh. “That’s right. I had to explain to Dmitri that American women don’t like to see jewelry on men.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Mae disagreed. “I know of several men who look fierce in pearl chokers and matching earrings.”

Hugh pulled Mae against his side and kissed the top of her head. “I’m not talking about drag queens, honey.”

“Is this your little girl?” Mark asked Georgeanne.

“Yes, she is.”

“What happened to your eye?” Lexie handed Georgeanne her plate, then pointed her last strawberry at Mark.

“The Avalanche caught him in the corner and gave him a pounding,” John answered from behind Georgeanne. He picked Lexie up with one arm and lifted her until they were eye level. “Don’t feel bad, he probably deserved it.”

Georgeanne glanced at John. She wanted to ask him about Virgil’s parting comment to her, but she would have to wait until they were alone.

“Maybe he shouldn’t have goosed Ricci with his stick,” Hugh added.

Mark shrugged. “Ricci broke my wrist last year,” he said, and the conversation turned to which man had suffered the most injuries. At first Georgeanne was appalled by the list of broken bones, torn muscles, and number of stitches. But the longer she listened, the more she found it morbidly fascinating. She began to wonder how many men in the room had their own teeth. Not many by the sounds of things.

Lexie placed her hands on the sides of John’s head, turning his face toward her. “Did you get hurt last night, Daddy?”

“Me? No way.”

“Daddy?” Dmitri looked at Lexie. “Iz yours?”

“Yes.” John turned his gaze to his teammates. “This little worrywart is my daughter, Lexie Kowalsky.”

Georgeanne waited for him to say that he hadn’t known about Lexie until recently, but he didn’t. He didn’t offer any explanation for his daughter’s sudden appearance in his life. He just held her in his arms as if she’d always been there.

Dmitri glanced at Georgeanne, then looked back at John. He raised a questioning brow.

“Yes,” John said, leaving Georgeanne to wonder about the silent byplay between the two men.

“How old are you, Lexie?” Mark asked.

“Six. I had my birthday, and now I’m in first grade. I gots a dog now, too, ‘cause my daddy gave him to me. His name is Pongo, but he’s not very big. He doesn’t got a lot of hair either, and his ears get cold. So I made him a hat.”

“It’s purple,” Mae told John. “It looks like a dunce cap.”

“How do you get the hat on your dog?”

“She pins him down between her knees,” Georgeanne answered.

John glanced at his daughter. “You sit on Pongo?”

“Yeah, Daddy, he likes it.”

John doubted Pongo liked anything about wearing a stupid hat. He opened his mouth to suggest that maybe she shouldn’t sit on her little dog, but the band struck up a few chords, and he turned his attention to the stage. “Good evening,” the lead singer said into his microphone. “For the first song of the night, Hugh and Mae have asked that everyone join them on the dance floor.”

“Daddy,” Lexie said barely above the music. “May I have a piece of cake?”

“Is it okay with your mom?”

“Yes.”

He turned to Georgeanne and lowered his mouth to her ear. “We’re heading to the banquet table. Do you want to come with us?”

She shook her head, and John looked deep into her green eyes. “Don’t go anywhere.” Before she had a chance to reply, he and Lexie headed across the room.

“I want a big piece,” Lexie informed him. “With lots of frosting.”

“You’ll get a tummy ache.”

“No I won’t.”

He set her on her feet beside the table and waited long, frustrating minutes for her to choose just the right piece of cake with purple roses only. He found her a fork and a place to sit at a round table beside one of Hugh’s nieces. When he turned to look for Georgeanne, he spotted her out on the dance floor with Dmitri. Normally he liked the young Russian, but not tonight. Not when Georgeanne wore a short little dress, and not when Dmitri looked at her as if she were a serving of beluga caviar.

John wove his way through the crowded dance floor and placed a hand on his teammate’s shoulder. He didn’t have to say anything. Dmitri looked at him, shrugged, and walked away.

“I don’t think this is a very good idea,” Georgeanne said as he gathered her into his arms.

“Why not?” He pulled closer, fitting her soft curves against his chest and moving their bodies to the mellow music. You can have your career with the Chinooks, or you can have Georgeanne. You can’t have both. He thought about Virgil’s warning, and he thought about the warm woman in his arms. He’d already made his decision. He’d made it days ago in Detroit.

“Because Dmitri asked me to dance, for one thing.”

“He’s a commie bastard. Stay away from him.”

Georgeanne leaned back far enough to look up into his face. “I thought he was your friend.”

“He was.”

A frown creased her forehead. “What happened?”

“We both want the same thing, only he isn’t going to get it.”

“What do you want?”

There were a lot of things he wanted. “I saw you talking to Virgil. What did he say?”

“Not a lot. I told him I was sorry for what happened seven years ago, but he wouldn’t accept my apology.” She appeared puzzled for a moment, then shook her head and looked away. “You said he’d moved on, but he’s still very bitter.”

John slid his palm to the side of her throat and lifted her chin with his thumb. “Don’t worry about him.” He stared into her face, then raised his eyes to the old man staring back at him. His gaze found Dmitri and a half dozen other men who’d taken shifty-eyed glances at Georgeanne’s bustline. Then he lowered his face and his lips took possession of hers. He possessed her with his mouth and tongue and his hand moving from her back to her behind. The kiss was deliberate, long, hard. She clung to him, and when he finally lifted his mouth, she was breathless.

“Cryin‘ all night,” she whispered.

“Now, tell me about Charles.” Her gaze was a little glassy and a bit dazed. The passion in her eyes made him think of tangled bedsheets and soft flesh.

“You want to know about Charles?”

“Lexie told me you’re thinking of marrying him.”

“I told him no.”

Relief washed over him. He wrapped his arms tight around her and smiled into her hair. “You look beautiful tonight,” he said into her ear. Then he pulled back and looked at her face, at her luscious mouth, and said, “Why don’t we find someplace where I can take advantage of you? How big is the counter in the women’s bathroom?”

He recognized the spark of interest in her eyes before she turned her head and tried to hide her smile. “Are you high on drugs, John Kowalsky?”

“Not tonight,” he laughed. “I listened to Nancy Reagan and just said no. How about you?”

“Of course not,” she scoffed.

The music ended and a faster song began. “Where’s Lexie?” she asked above the noise.

John looked over at the table where he’d left her and pointed her out. Her cheek rested in her palm and her lids were lowered to half-mast. “She looks like she’s about to pass out.”

“I better take her home.”

John slid his hands from her back up to her shoulders. “I’ll carry her out to your car.”

Georgeanne thought about his offer for a moment, then decided to let him. “That would be great. I’ll get my purse and I’ll meet you out there.” His grasp on her arms tightened a fraction, then he released her. She watched him walk toward Lexie, then turned to find Mae.

There was definitely something different in his touch tonight. Something in the way he held her and kissed her. Something hot and possessive as if he were reluctant to let her go. She cautioned herself not to read too much into it, but a warm little glow had settled about her heart.

She quickly retrieved her purse and bid Mae and Hugh good-bye. When she walked outside, night had fallen, and the parking lot was illuminated by streetlights. She spotted John leaning his behind against her car. He’d wrapped Lexie in his wool jacket and held her against his chest. His white shirt stood out in the dark parking lot.

“It doesn’t work that way,” she heard him tell Lexie. “You can’t name yourself. Someone else has to start calling you something, and the name just sticks. Do you think Ed Jovanovski chose to call himself ‘Special Ed’?”

“But I want to be ‘The Cat.’ ”

“You can’t be ‘The Cat.’ ” He looked up at Georgeanne and pushed away from the car. “Felix Potvin is ‘The Cat.’”

“Can I be a dog?” Lexie asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I don’t think you really want people to call you Lexie ‘The Dog’ Kowalsky, do you?”

Lexie giggled into the side of his neck. “No, but I want to have a name like you do.”

“If you want to be a cat, how about a cheetah? Lexie ‘The Cheetah’ Kowalsky.”

“Okay,” she said through a yawn. “Daddy, do you know why animals don’t play cards in the jungle?”

Georgeanne rolled her eyes and fit her key into the lock.

“Because there are too many cheetahs,” he answered. “You told me that joke about fifty times already.”

“Oh, I forgot.”

“I didn’t think you ever forgot anything.” John chuckled and placed Lexie in the passenger seat. The car’s dome light glistened in his dark hair, and illuminated his blue and red paisley suspenders. “I’ll see you at the hockey game tomorrow night.”

Lexie reached for her seat belt and buckled it. “Give me some sugar, Daddy.” She pursed her lips and waited.

Georgeanne smiled and walked to the driver’s side of the car. The way John cared for Lexie touched a tender spot in her heart. He was a great father, and no matter what happened between Georgeanne and John, she would always love him for loving Lexie.

“Hey, Georgie?” His voice called to her like a warm touch on the chilled night air.

She looked across the roof of the car and into John’s face, partially hidden in nighttime shadows.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Well, home, of course.”

He chuckled deep within his chest. “Don’t you want to give Daddy some sugar?”

Temptation taunted her weak will and self-control. Heck, who was she kidding? Where John was concerned, she had no self-control at all. Especially after that kiss he’d given her. She yanked open the driver’s-side door before she had a chance to even consider his alluring proposition. “Not tonight, stud boy.”

“Did you just call me stud boy?”

She placed one foot on the doorframe. “It’s an improvement over what I called you last month,” she said, and slipped inside the car. She started the engine, and with John’s laughter filling the night, she drove out of the parking lot.

On the way home, she thought about the difference in him. Her heart wanted to believe it all meant something wonderful, like maybe he’d gotten hit in the head with a hockey puck, and he’d suddenly come to his senses and realized that he couldn’t live without her. But her experiences with John told her different. She knew better than to project her feelings onto him and look for hidden motives. Trying to decipher his every word and touch was nutty. Whenever she let her guard down with him, she always got hurt.

After she put Lexie to bed, Georgeanne hung John’s suit jacket on the back of a kitchen chair and kicked off her shoes. A light rain pattered her windows as she brewed water for a cup of herbal tea. She moved to the chair and smoothed her fingers across the shoulder seam of John’s jacket, recalling exactly how he’d looked standing across the aisle at the church, his blue eyes staring into hers. She remembered the scent of his cologne and the sound of his voice. Why don’t we find someplace where I can take advantage of you, he’d said, and she’d been tempted.

Pongo let loose with a string of yapping seconds before the doorbell rang. Georgeanne dropped her hand to her side and scooped up the dog on her way to the entrance. She wasn’t really surprised to find John on her front steps, raindrops glistening in his dark hair.

“I forgot to give you the tickets to tomorrow night’s game,” he said, and held out an envelope.

Georgeanne took the tickets, and against her better judgment, she invited him inside. “I’m making tea. Would you like some?”

“Hot?”

“Yep?”

“Do you have any iced tea?”

“Of course, I’m from Texas.” She walked back into the kitchen and deposited Pongo on the floor. The dog ran over to John and licked his shoe.

“Pongo is getting to be a pretty good watchdog,” she told him as she reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of tea.

“Yeah. I can see that. What would he do if someone broke in, lick the man’s toe?”

Georgeanne laughed and shut the door. “Probably, but he’d bark like mad first. Having Pongo around is better than installing a house alarm. It’s kind of weird, but I feel safer when he’s in the house.” She placed the envelope on the counter and filled a glass.

“Next time I’ll buy you a real dog.” John took a few steps toward her and reached for the tea. “No ice. Thanks.”

“There better not be a next time.”

“There’s always a next time, Georgie,” he said, and raised the glass to his lips, his eyes watching her as he took a long drink.

“Are you sure you don’t want some ice?”

He shook his head and lowered the tea. He sucked moisture from his lips as his gaze slid over her breasts to her thighs, then traveled back up to her face. “That dress has been driving me crazy all day long. It reminds me of that little pink wedding dress you had on the first time I saw you.”

She looked down. “This is nothing like that dress.”

“It’s short and it’s pink.”

“That dress was a lot shorter, strapless, and so tight I couldn’t breathe.”

“I remember.” He smiled and leaned one hip against the counter. “All the way to Copalis, you kept pulling at the top and yanking at the bottom. It was seductive as hell, like an erotic tug-of-war. I kept watching to see which half would win.”

Georgeanne rested one shoulder against the refrigerator, and folded her arms. “I’m surprised you remember all of that. As I recall, you didn’t like me very much.”

“And as I recall, I liked you more than was wise.”

“Only when I was naked. The rest of the time, you were fairly rude.”

He frowned at the tea in his hand, then looked back at her. “I don’t remember it quite that way, but if I was rude to you, it wasn’t personal. My life was a pile of shit back then. I was drinking way too much and doing all I could to ruin my career and myself.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Do you remember when I told you that I was married before?”

“Of course.” How could she possibly forget about DeeDee and Linda?

“Well, what I didn’t tell you was that Linda killed herself. I found her dead in our bathtub. She’d sliced her wrists with a razor blade, and for a lot of years, I blamed myself.”

Shocked speechless, Georgeanne stared at him. She didn’t know what to say or do. Her first impulse was to wrap her arms around his waist and tell him she was sorry, but she held back.

He took another drink, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “The truth of it is, I didn’t love her. I was a lousy husband, and I only married her because she was pregnant. When the baby died, there wasn’t anything holding us together anymore. I wanted out of the marriage. She didn’t.”

An ache tightened her chest. She knew John, and she knew he must have been devastated. She wondered why he was telling her about it now. Why would he trust her with something so painful? “You had a baby?”

“Yeah. He was born premature and died a month later. Toby would be eight now.”

“I’m sorry,” was the only thing she could think to say. She couldn’t even imagine losing Lexie.

He set the glass on the counter beside Georgeanne, then he took her hand in his. “Sometimes I wonder what he’d be like if he’d lived.”

She looked into his face and once again felt that warm little glow about her heart. He cared for her. Maybe trust and caring could turn to something more.

“I wanted to tell you about Linda and Toby for two reasons. I wanted you to know about them, and I want you to know that even though I’ve been married twice, I’m not going to make the same mistakes. I won’t marry again because a child is involved, or because of lust. It will be because I’m crazy in love.”

His words doused Georgeanne’s warm little glow like a bucket of ice water, and she pulled her hand from his. They had a child together, and it was no secret John was attracted to her physically. He’d never promised her anything but a good time, but she’d done it again. She’d let herself hope for things she couldn’t have, and knowing it hurt so much the backs of her eyes stung. “Thank you for sharing, John, but I just can’t appreciate your honesty right now,” she said as she moved toward the front door. “I think you better leave.”

“What?” He sounded incredulous as he followed close behind her. “I thought I was getting somewhere.”

“I know you did. But you can’t come over here whenever you feel like sex and just expect me to tear off my clothes and oblige you.” She failed to control her trembling chin as she pulled the front door open. She wanted him gone before she fell apart completely.

“Is that what you think? That you’re just a lay?”

Georgeanne tried not to flinch. “Yes.”

“What the hell is happening here?” He yanked the door out of her grasp and slammed it shut. “I spill my guts and you jump up and down on my insides! I’m honest with you, and you think I’m trying to get in your pants.”

“Honest? You’re only honest when you want something. You lie to me all the time.”

“When have I lied to you?”

“Your lawyer, for one,” she reminded him.

“That wasn’t really a lie, it was an omission.”

“It was a lie, and you lied to me again today.”

“When?”

“At the church. You told me Virgil had moved on, that he was over what happened seven years ago. But you know he isn’t.”

He leaned back on his heels and frowned at her. “What did he say?”

“That you wouldn’t choose me over your team. What did he mean?” she asked, and waited for him to enlighten her.

“The truth?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, he threatened to trade me to another hockey team if I get involved with you, but it doesn’t matter. Forget about Virgil. He’s just mad because I got a piece of what he wanted.”

Georgeanne leaned against the wall. “Me?”

“You.”

“That’s all I am to you?” She looked at him.

He blew out his breath and ran his fingers though the sides of his hair. “If you think I only came over here to get my rocks off, you’re wrong.”

She let her gaze travel to the bulge in his wool trousers, then back up to his face. “Am I?”

Anger stained his cheeks and he clenched his jaw. “Don’t take what I feel for you and turn it into something dirty. I want you, Georgeanne. All you have to do is walk in a room, and I want you. I want to kiss you, and touch you, and make love to you. My physical response is natural, and I won’t apologize for it.”

“And in the morning you’ll be gone, and I’ll be alone again.”

“That’s horseshit.”

“It’s happened twice.”

“Last time, you ran out on me.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter who ran out which time. It will end the same. You won’t mean to hurt me, but you will.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. I want to make you feel good, and if you were honest with me, like you wish me to be with you, you’d admit that you want me, too.”

“No.”

His eyes narrowed. “I hate that word.”

“Sorry, but there’s too much between us to have it any other way.”

“Are you still trying to punish me for what happened seven years ago, or is it just an excuse?” He planted his hands on the wall next to her head. “What are you afraid of?”

“Not you.”

He cupped her chin in his palm. “Liar. You’re afraid Daddy isn’t going to love you.”

Her breath caught in her lungs. “That was cruel.”

“Maybe, but it’s the truth.” His thumb slipped across her closed lips. He wrapped his free hand around her wrist. “You’re afraid to reach out and take what you want, but I’m not. I know what I want.” He slid her palm across his hard chest and down the buttons of his shirt. “Are you still trying to be a good girl so Daddy will notice you? Well, guess what, baby doll,” he whispered as he moved her hand to the front of his pants and pressed his thick erection into her palm. “I noticed.”

“Stop it,” she said, and lost control of her tears. She hated him. She loved him. She wanted him to stay as badly as she wanted him to go. He’d been crude and cruel, but he’d been right. She was terrified he’d touch her, and afraid he wouldn’t. She was afraid to take what she wanted, scared he’d make her miserable and unhappy. She was already miserable and unhappy. There was no way she could win. He was like a drug, an addiction, and she was hooked. “Don’t do this to me.”

John wiped a tear from her cheek and let go of her hand. “I want you, and I’m not afraid to play dirty.”

She had to cut herself off from John, quit cold turkey. Check herself into rehab. No more hot kisses or touches or hungry glances. She had to get tough. “You just want a piece of... of...”

John shook his head and smiled. “I don’t want just a piece. I want it all.”