“We’re late,” Victor grumbled.

“I know,” Nate replied nonchalantly, lifting his chin in an arrogant gesture to the driver of the Rolls who was watching them walk down the crowded, tourist-clogged pavement outside Harrods.

“Your mother is going to skin us alive.”

Nate wanted to laugh at this ridiculous comment but he didn’t because Nate McAllister rarely laughed.

Laura Roberts didn’t have a violent bone in her body. She did have a fierce temper but Nate had only seen it twice in the sixteen years he knew her. And both times, the minute it blew, she was spent. Both times, it lasted less than ten minutes. She was the kindest, gentlest, most even-tempered creature he’d ever been honoured to know. That didn’t mean, however, that she didn’t have a steely determination when she wanted one of her children to do something they didn’t want to do, she just rarely got her way.

“She’ll get over it once she sees your anniversary present,” Nate noted just for something to say. He knew Victor was worried about the present. If there was nothing to like about the man who had become his father, and Nate thought that there was although many people disagreed, one had to admire him for his devotion to his wife.

Though an anniversary present for Laura was a challenge.

What did you give a woman who had everything, wanted for nothing and would have lived in a hovel happily if she simply had her husband with her?

“You’d make her night if you asked Georgia to marry you this evening,” Victor remarked.

He walked beside Victor to the waiting Rolls as Bennett, Victor’s chauffer pulled open the door to allow them entry. Nate had better things to do than be on this errand with Victor, many better, more pressing even urgent things to do.

But Victor had asked and no matter what Victor asked, Nate gave. That was the deal in Nate’s mind though not Victor’s). Nate owed Victor his life.

People were staring at the two men who obviously, by the look of their tailored suits, stylish silk ties, expensive shoes and gleaming watches, not to mention the chauffer-driven Rolls Royce, actuallyshopped at Harrods rather than visited as a tourist attraction.

Then again people often stared at Nate and most of these people were women.

He was uncommonly, one could even say impossibly, handsome. Very tall, lean, narrow-hipped, broad-shouldered with a wealth of thick, black hair that had just the barest blue sheen to make it interesting. He had strong features, a firm jaw, powerful cheekbones and a sensual lower lip. He also had glittering, dark eyes that although he didn’t know it (and wouldn’t have cared if he did), were the avid topic of many women he knew. Fights even broke out, were his eyes so grey they were nearly black or were they so blue they were nearly black? After much discussion, no answer was deemed acceptable so the battle raged on.

Nate’s sensual lips thinned at Victor’s words. He knew Laura wanted him to marry and settle down, give her grandchildren. But he was also relatively certain she didn’t want him to do it with Georgia.

“I’m not asking Georgia to marry me,” Nate stated firmly.

“Why not?” Victor asked and then went on. “She’s a damned fine woman.”

She was not a damned fine woman. She was a she-cat. She was nearly as bad as Danielle, if that could be credited. He’d caught Georgia snapping her birth control pills into the toilet, so he’d meticulously worn condoms. Then he’d caught her putting holes in the condoms, so he’d stopped having sex with her altogether and began the weary process of scraping her off.

He should never have dipped his foot in the family pool. Georgia was Laura and Victor’s best friends’ daughter. Nate even liked Georgia’s parents, had known them for years.

They all had high hopes but Georgia was history.

She’d worked hard at gaining Nate’s attention, she was leggy, slender with beautiful auburn hair and she’d always been somewhat amusing in a dry, catty way.

Therefore, Nate had rewarded her for her dogged pursuit of him. And she had rewarded him for rewarding her. As good as it was with her, and it was good, it wasn’t going to last a lifetime.

Nate knew that innately. She had too much venom in her and she let it show too often. Nate had no patience for venomous women, especially those who grew up having everything, wanting for nothing and having no reason to be the slightest bit harsh considering the privileged life they’d led.

Nate didn’t know what he wanted but whatever it was, it certainly was not Georgia.

He was saved from answering Victor when he spied a youth wearing a grey hooded sweatshirt, the hood worn up even though it was a warm day. The boy was slouching down the pavement, head bowed, hands in the front pocket of the sweatshirt, his head swinging this way and that, looking for his mark.

Nate’s guard, already on alert, always on alert, went into overdrive.

Nate’s eyes narrowed as he watched the youth and Victor started to get into the Rolls. Then, as expected, the boy darted at his target and Nate heard a woman’s outraged cry.

“Hey!” she yelled.

He watched the boy snatch the woman’s purse, his body tensing for action.

And then his eyes moved to the woman and, uncharacteristically, he froze.

“Hey! He stole my purse! Stop him, he stole my purse!” she shouted.

Nate vaguely registered she was an American tourist. Nate also absently noticed that no one moved to assist.

In that brief moment in time, Nate was too busy drinking in the vision that was her, he himself didn’t move a muscle.

She was tall, incredibly tall.

And curvy, delectably curvy.

She had the most unusual coloured hair. Hair that he knew from vast experience living in a house with Laura and Danielle for years came through a supremely talented and expensive stylist’s hands.

She had an exquisite face, flawless skin and a bearing that was extraordinary. She had been given a wide berth around her even on the crowded pavement. Not because she was screaming her head off but instead because she was majestic, radiant, elegant…

Untouchable.

In a stupor from simply looking at her, the boy with her purse charged right by Nate.

Not in a stupor, she realised no one was going to help her, gave up screaming and charged right after the boy.

At the noise, Victor turned away from the car and Nate shifted to watch in astonishment as she deftly and agilely dodged the crowd, her long legs a match for the short boy. Then Nate watched in stunned surprise as she jumped onto the thief’s back with a graceful leap.

Everyone stared in shock but no one lifted a finger except a few started to snap photographs.

“Give me back my purse, you thug!” she shouted, wrapping her long legs around her prey, one arm around his neck while she slapped him around the head with the other hand.

The thief staggered back then he staggered with intent and slammed her against the side of the building. Her head snapped back and cracked against the stone so loudly Nate could hear it from where he stood twenty paces away.

At the sound Nate jerked out of his stupor and forged forward.

“Nathaniel…” Victor called but Nate ignored him.

Regardless of the blow, she wasn’t done fighting and had not eased her grip.

“Give it ba –” she started to scream but didn’t finish.

The boy doubled in half and flipped her over. She lost her hold and went flying over his head, landing on her back on the pavement with a sickening thud.

The boy didn’t take a single step though he started to do so. With one leg lifted to make good his escape, Nate grasped his sweatshirt in a clenched fist and pulled him back. With a violent jerk Nate yanked him off his feet and around towards the side of the building and let him go, brutally slamming him against the stone wall beside a huge display window.

Swiftly Nate’s hand settled on the thief’s throat, squeezing savagely and lifting until the boy was on his toes.

“Drop the bag,” he ordered in a voice cold as ice with an edge akin to that of a razor.

The thief immediately dropped the bag.

“I… I’ll call the police.” Her low, rich American voice, a voice that had a strange twang to it, stuttered from beside him as she cautiously leaned forward to grab her bag. Nate noted she wasn’t moving cautiously because of fear but because she was hurt.

Nate turned to watch her, her head was bent as she searched through her bag and then she pulled out a mobile and lifted her eyes to him.

The moment they hit his, Nate froze again.

Her eyes were simply indescribable. A pale blue that was bottomless, inescapable, the irises rimmed by a smoky midnight that was so alluring, he thought for a moment he’d leaned toward her, he was so drawn to her eyes.

They widened upon looking at him almost as if she recognised him.

A gasping noise came from the thug.

Nate didn’t move. He stared in frozen fascination as she stole closer.

Without taking her unbelievable eyes from his, her hand settled gently on the forearm that was holding the thief against the wall. When it did fire shot up his arm from where she touched him.

“You’re choking him,” she whispered.

His hold loosened and her hand dropped. With effort he tore his eyes from hers and dropped his hand only to grasp a handful of the thug’s sweatshirt at his throat, jerk him forward a few inches and slam him viciously back against the wall.

The boy grunted in pain.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Nate snarled and fury unlike anything he’d known ripped through him as he looked at the boy.

“Bennett has called the police. Bloody hell, girl. Are you all right?” Victor was at their sides, had his hand on the girl’s shoulder and was bent into her, peering at her to ascertain the answer to his question.

“I think so. Just had the breath knocked out of me, that’s all,” she answered.

“What were you thinking, leaping on him like that? You could’ve been hurt,” Victor admonished because she was not all right, she was holding her body like it was made of crystal. She was not as deft and loose-limbed as she had been while flying toward her assailant.

Victor slid his arm around her waist in an effort of support because of the way she held her body.

“He took my purse,” she answered Victor’s question.

“It was still bloody dangerous,” Victor carried on with his gentle remonstration.

“I like that purse,” she returned with a slight teasing lilt to her tone and a quirky, shaky smile.

Witnessing that quirky smile Nate found he was having trouble breathing.

Victor’s head came up at her smile and then snapped to look at Nate. Or more to the point, he took one look at the way Nate was looking at the girl. Then Victor looked at her. Then back at Nate.

Then he made a quick decision.

“Nathaniel, wait for the police. I’m taking her home to Laura and calling our physician.”

“No, please, I’m fine. I’ll stay to talk to the police,” she resisted.

“Nathaniel will bring them to the house. You can talk to them at home. Come with me.” Victor was using his no-nonsense, no-argument voice, a voice that sent shivers up grown men’s spines.

She completely ignored it. “Really, no. I should stay.”

“Go with him,” Nate’s voice rumbled this command and her head jerked round to look at him. She regarded him for a moment and he wondered what she’d do.

It took a moment but she nodded.

Nate watched over his shoulder as Victor put her in the Rolls and it swept cleanly away.

Not long after, the police arrived.

Lily carefully unfolded herself out of the decadent bathtub, snatched a velvety-plush, peach-coloured towel from the heated rail and wrapped it around her sore body.

Laura had forced her into a hot, scented bath even though Lily resisted because she wanted to be available for the police when they arrived.

The physician who was at the doorstep of the house within moments of their own arrival, as Victor phoned from the car and told him to “get his ass to the house” had told her to take some ibuprofen, a long, hot bath and told Laura and Victor to keep an eye on her for a couple of days. Lily had no broken bones, no cracked skull, she was fine but just in case she was not the physician said she should be looked after.

So, after a brief but earnest talk Lily had seen them have in the hallway, Laura, with Victor’s adamant concurrence, insisted she stay the night with them rather than taking the train back to Clevedon. Then they insisted she take a bath.

Without the strength to resist them, or, indeed, the ability, they were very insistent, very nice but not the kind of people who took no for an answer, there she was in their Georgian mansion, in their opulent bathroom which was off an equally sumptuous guest bedroom decorated in what she had counted were at least seven different but coordinating shades of pale peach.

And she’d finally met the man Fazire had sent to her.

Lily was certain of it – as certain as she was that she was Lily Sarah Jacobs, daughter of Rebecca and Will Jacobs and a Hoosier born and bred. And there was no denying any of that.

When she’d lifted her gaze to look into the eyes of her tall defender she’d nearly fainted. Swooned. Fallen to the ground in an unconscious heap.

If he hadn’t been imminently facing a life sentence for strangling a man to death regardless if he was a nasty purse snatcher, she would have done it.

And now…

Now…

Now what?

She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t exactly throw herself at him. Tell him she’d wished for him to come to her through her own personal genie that just happened to live at home with her parents in a small town in Indiana. She couldn’t seduce him because, since she was a virgin, she wouldn’t even know how. In fact he probably, considering how handsome he was (impossibly handsome), didn’t know she existed as a female with all the right parts in all the right places and with all the yearning she felt for him even though she only knew his name.

Nathaniel.

That was a very, very good name.

“Lily, my dear, the police are here.” Sweet, kindly, Laura was in the other room.

Lily had taken to Laura immediately. The older woman was petite and slightly but pleasantly rounded with middle-age. She had a soft dark-brown bob that framed her face, elegant hands with perfect fingernails (Lily thought they looked like pianists hands, they were so lovely) and warm, brown eyes.

“I’ll be right out,” Lily called.

She quickly towelled off, wrapped the towel around her body and rummaged through her saved purse for a hair band. She pulled her hair into a ponytail at the back of her head and went into the bedroom where she saw Laura standing at the bed which now had a half a dozen shiny boxes resting on it.

Lily stopped and stared.

Laura explained, “I called a few shops. Since you’re staying, you need a few things, of course. I hope you don’t mind but I checked the labels on your clothes and found your size.”

How long was I in the bath? Lily thought incredulously as she stared at the boxes.

“I can’t,” Lily resisted.

“You can, you will, you must,” Laura returned in a mother’s voice that would not be denied. Lily had heard that voice before; her own mother used it on her often. Laura lifted the lid off a box and pulled out a silvery blue silk robe with long flowing sleeves like a Japanese kimono and ordered, “Put this on.”

Lily let out a soft laugh and then exclaimed, “I can’t face the police in a robe!”

“They only have a few questions. I told them you’re in no state to be given the third degree,” she stated smartly then ripped the lid off another box and pulled out a pair of pristine white satin underwear edged in delicate lace. “If it will make you feel better, wear these… and… this.” She found and shook the matching bra at Lily.

Lily couldn’t help herself, as rude as it was, and she knew it was rude, she continued to stare.

Two hours ago she’d been walking down a London street intent on doing a bit of window shopping as her meagre finances didn’t allow much more. She had several days off from work at Maxine’s store and didn’t fancy working on her house, scraping, painting, priming or hauling herself under a sink with a plumber’s manual to try to fix a pipe. She’d come to London for a little day break, to go to a few museums which were free admission and to do some shopping.

Now she’d entered Fantasy Land.

“Laura you… honestly, really, I just can’t.”

Laura moved toward her, pressed her palm against Lily’s face like Lily’s Mom did sometimes in her tender moments (of which there were many), and looked into Lily’s eyes.

“Don’t keep them waiting, my dear. The sooner you get this over with the sooner we can all enjoy our evening.”

On that she exited the room and Lily, because of the motherly touch that Laura had given her (such a familiar touch), swiftly donned the undies, the robe and just stopped herself from running to the bathroom to grab another bath sheet and wrap that around her as well.

She gingerly walked out of the room. The bath had helped as had the pills but she most definitely felt like she’d been flipped over someone’s shoulder onto a concrete sidewalk.

Lily didn’t know what she was thinking; charging after a purse snatcher except it was an expensive designer purse that she could never have afforded under normal circumstances. She’d found it while trolling through a vintage clothing store and she’d bought it for a song. She’d never be able to replace it.

Regardless of that, her actions were reckless. She could have been hurt or harmed in some other way if he’d had a knife or another weapon.

Her parents, if they ever heard of this, would kill her. Fazire would start floating and look down his genie nose and wag his genie finger at her. She could never tell them.

Carefully, holding onto the banister, she descended the stairs. She kept her body even stiffer than it felt so as not to jar any of the aches and pains that threatened. Her head was throbbing where it had hit the wall, not the pounding pain of one of her intermittent migraines but not pleasurable either.

She was concentrating on her feet hitting each of the dove grey carpet-runnered stairs. She was also assessing her pedicure, mentally telling herself that, even in England, as it was May, it was time to move away from the deep wine colour of winter and find something else like a pearly pink. Her foot hit the parquet floor of the entryway and it was then she became aware that she wasn’t alone.

Her head snapped up and there he was.

Nathaniel.

He was watching her as any romance-novel hero would watch the heroine. With one shoulder leaned against the wall and his arms crossed on his chest.

And he was utterly beautiful in a raw, powerful, immensely masculine way.

They didn’t, however, stare at each other with blissful, love-induced wonder or at least he didn’t stare at her that way. She, unfortunately, was more than likely staring at him that way to her horror. He was watching her with narrowed scrutinising eyes. Eyes that didn’t miss a thing.

Not… one… thing.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice deep and strong and sending tingles across her skin.

“Fine,” she lied and tried for a jaunty smile.

His face darkened. Obviously the jaunty smile didn’t work.

“Liar,” he said softly, dangerously, and he looked like he wanted to commit a violent act. Something like what he did to the thug, ferociously slamming him against the building like the thief had slammed her, exacting her retribution for her. The very thought of that memory chased a thrill up her spine.

“I will be fine…” she hesitated, doing a mental assessment of her aching body, “eventually.”

He watched her for a moment, his eyes sweeping the length of her, that awful look on his face. She blushed at his gaze and found she was frightened of him just a little bit. He looked sophisticated and urbane on the outside, wearing that suit so casually as if he was in jeans and a t-shirt. Somewhere, though, somewhere very close to the surface, he was anything but sophisticated and urbane.

He broke into her thoughts. “The police are in the drawing room.”

Lily was relatively certain she’d never been in a drawing room before or not one in a house where people actually lived. She didn’t know people who had drawing rooms. He pulled away from the wall and she found her body stiffening in weird preparation for something as he came toward her but he just walked by her.

With no choice, she followed.

He entered a room and she came in after him. In the room were Laura, Victor and two police officers.

“Here she is,” Laura announced, smiling at Lily encouragingly.

The room was lovely, decorated in soft pale greens accented with white cornices and stately yet comfy-looking furniture. Nathaniel moved to stand behind and beside a high backed chair. He glanced at Lily and then down at the chair and she understood somehow that he wanted her… no, was telling her to sit in the chair.

She did what she was mutely told.

The interview, as Laura promised, took less than ten minutes. They asked questions, they took notes and Laura and Victor watched her with kind, parental eyes. Not as if she’d met them hours before but as if she had been under their guardianship and devoted care since birth.

However this was not why the interview was so short.

Although she did not see him, she knew that Nathaniel stood behind her the entire time. And she knew this because she felt him there. He did not move a muscle or make a noise until the police seemed to be checking facts and asking the same questions over again.

Then in a tone that even General Patton would have calmly and unresistingly obeyed, he said, “You have enough.”

They didn’t argue or even demur, immediately one of them said, “Right, Mr. McAllister.”

They nodded at Nathaniel and Lily found she now had his last name, a name of which she approved. McAllister.

“Mr. and Mrs. Roberts.” The police nodded at Laura and Victor.

The realisation dawned that Nathaniel and the Roberts did not share the same surname and Lily wondered at Nathaniel’s relationship with Laura and Victor because he obviously wasn’t blood as she thought. He didn’t look like either Laura or Victor but Lily thought for certain the relationship was deep enough for blood ties.

Maybe he was a favoured nephew.

“We’re off,” the policeman finished.

They did not give Lily a card, ask her to call them if she remembered anything else, they just left.

Before anyone could say anything, a boyishly good-looking, not-as-tall-as-Nathaniel but still tall, brown-haired man walked in.

“What’s this? First the anniversary celebration is off, now the police are at the house. What? Has Nate’s chequered past finally caught up with us?”

Then he stopped dead and stared at Lily for some reason in open-mouthed surprise.

She didn’t think much about this new man’s open-mouthed surprise. She instead found herself thinking she did not at all consider it was surprising that Nathaniel had a chequered past.

“My God,” the man breathed bringing Lily’s thoughts back into the room.

“This,” Victor stated as introduction to Lily, “is my son, Jeffrey.”

Jeffrey came forward, extending his hand and told her. “Everyone but Mum and Dad call me Jeff.”

She lifted her hand to shake his but he turned it, bent at the waist and brought it to his mouth, brushing his lips against her knuckles. Then his eyes came to hers.

“And who are you?” he asked and she thought his tone was flirtatious although she didn’t have a great deal of experience with flirtatious, or at least for the past four years or so she naively hadn’t noticed it relentlessly coming her way.

“I’m Lily Jacobs,” she answered.

“No, you’re not Lily Jacobs. You are an angel sent from heaven,” he surprised her by saying quietly, definitely flirtatiously, finally dropping her hand after holding it longer than necessary.

As he straightened Lily noticed the entire room changed and seemed even to shift at his words. The air became so thick it could be cut with a knife. Victor tensed and his eyes flew to where Nathaniel was still standing at the back of her chair. Laura slowly stood and her eyes slid to Lily, her hand moving to her throat in a strange gesture of imminent peril. And Lily could actually feel something dangerous emanating from behind her.

Lily bravely ignored whatever was happening and her eyes held Laura’s because they seemed the safest.

“What anniversary celebration?” she asked.

Laura started to answer, “It’s nothing, my dear –”

Jeff was moving to the fireplace and he interrupted his mother, “It’s not nothing. I wouldn’t say your thirtieth wedding anniversary is nothing.” He turned and blithely leaned an elbow on the mantel.

Lily gasped and opened her mouth to speak. She couldn’t believe that they’d cancelled their anniversary for her but Jeff wasn’t finished. His eyes moved to Nathaniel and when they did they were calculating.

“By the way, Nate, Georgia called. She’s pretty pissed off about something. Likely best if you put that damned ring on her finger finally. That’ll bring her to heel.”

Lily closed her mouth with a snap.

He had a girlfriend, a girlfriend that sounded very close to being a fiancée.

Of course.

Of course, of course, of course.

She knew it couldn’t be real. He would never have even looked at her anyway, not plain, small town Indiana girl Lily Jacobs. Even with her wish from Fazire, she’d never get a glorious man like Nathaniel McAllister.

Never.

“I hope you didn’t cancel your anniversary for me,” Lily covered her disappointment with words.

Laura’s eyes, which were not so kind at the moment but looked rather nettled, moved away from her son to Lily and immediately softened again.

“We’ve only postponed it until tomorrow.”

“Oh no! You must carry on,” Lily cried.

“It’s all been sorted, Lily. Not to worry,” Victor barged into the short, now dismissed discussion and then started purposefully toward the door saying, “Jeffrey, I’d like a word with you.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, what have I done now?” Jeffrey muttered not-so-under his breath and Laura’s eyes turned back to annoyed. “I see, my dear brother, he doesn’t want a word with you,” Jeff said to Nathaniel looking strangely like a bratty little boy.

Nathaniel didn’t utter a word which seemed to anger Jeff more.

But Lily was wondering how Nathaniel was his brother. The brother thing made sense in the way Victor treated Nathaniel and Laura looked at him. But they didn’t share the same last name and they didn’t look a thing alike.

When Nathaniel was obviously not going to be lowered into a useless fight about what appeared to be nothing, Jeff started to slink away but stopped when he reached Lily.

“I don’t know who you are but I hope to see more of you.” He smiled, his boyish good looks and good humour restored and he seemed quite charming again.

She smiled back tentatively but somehow Lily found that he made her uncomfortable. For the first time in Lily’s life she took a near immediate dislike to someone.

After he left the room, Lily turned back to Laura.

“I feel terrible. Your anniversary –” she started.

“Really, Lily, it’s no trouble. I’m actually relieved. We can have a nice quiet night just the two of us. I’d rather that anyway. I’m sure Nathaniel can entertain you while Victor and I go out to a dinner a deux.”

Laura raised hopeful eyes to Nathaniel and even though she didn’t want to Lily turned in her chair to look at him too.

Gone was the suppressed violence in its place was bland unconcern.

“I should see to Georgia.” He’d been leaning his weight on his hand on the back of her chair and with his words, he pushed away.

“I’m sure Georgia would understand. We have a guest in the house,” Laura replied.

Nathaniel approached Laura and Lily watched in fascination as he stopped in front of her and kissed her forehead in a familiar loving way.

“I don’t live here anymore, remember?” His voice was light, even teasing, and Lily felt her insides melt (just a little).

“I suppose Jeffrey will find something for he and Lily to do,” Laura said this like a dare and Lily didn’t know what to make of that.

“I’m sure he will,” Nathaniel muttered, turned his dark eyes, impossibly dark eyes, to Lily and said in his deep voice, “Lily.”

Even as his voice sounding her name stole over her skin like a soft touch, he strode, just like his father, purposefully from the room.

And Lily could swear she heard Laura say the word, “Damn,” under her breath.