She’d been so angry when he roared off after promising to talk to Cody. Now, hours later, she realized how foolish she’d been. She was the bunny he kept calling her, and confronting him would be like taking on the Big Bad Wolf.

Even she would lay odds on the wolf.

The noise grew louder as the bike drew up alongside the house. Once, twice, the engine revved, and then silence fell.

She scrambled off the couch, tossing the afghan on the rounded arm of the sofa. She hurried through the family room, shutting off the TV before hustling into the kitchen, where she shoved the ice cream toppings away and all but threw the dirty bowls into the dishwasher.

At least that had been one thing she had done right tonight with her nephew. He’d enjoyed the ice cream. Then again, who didn’t like Rocky Road?

After a quick glance around, assuring herself everything that needed to be done was done, she flipped off the lights and hurried down the hallway. As she rounded the stair landing, she reflected that even if Jared had stuck around, there wasn’t much he could have said or done to improve her nephew’s mood. She should know; she’d tried just about everything and failed.

Archaic. That was the word Cody had hurled at her like a wrecking ball when she’d pulled out Monopoly; that and a few others she wondered if his mother knew about. She’d coaxed him into giving the game a try. Big mistake. She’d tried a different board game with the same result. When she got out the cards, he shot her a look that said don’t even, so she’d put them away without even taking the deck out of the box.

After that, they’d been like two strangers in the same house. Cody had gone up to his room to sketch and listen to his iPod while Jenny had stayed downstairs watching TV. The only reason she knew what he was up to was because she’d made the mistake of checking on him. He’d made it more than clear that a thirteen-year-old didn’t need to be checked on.

Halfway up the staircase, the teakettle began to whistle.

Crap.

She ran back down the stairs and turned off the stove. She was halfway down the hall when the front door opened and six foot two inches of leather-wearing, bike-riding, bad-boy testosterone walked through.

She froze in her tracks. Maybe he wouldn’t see her. Maybe he’d head straight up the stairs to his room. Maybe—

“Hello.”

“H-hi.”

“You’re up late.”

He smelled of warm night air, weathered leather, and a handful of temptation. “I wasn’t. I mean, I was, but I forgot to do a few things so had to come back downstairs.” She was rambling, wishing he’d move so she could get past. “I was just heading back to bed.”

A wicked smile lit his eyes as he took in her appearance. He ran his gaze slowly up from her bare feet, past her pink flannel pajama bottoms, to her white tank top, where he lingered. Under his intense scrutiny she felt like she was wearing nothing more than a see-through negligee.

“Don’t let me stop you.”

But he did. He was.

She chewed on her lower lip. Less than a few feet separated them. Hardly any distance at all. All she needed to do was take a few steps forward.

The refrain grew louder in her head.

Squaring her shoulders, she told herself to knock it off. To grow up. She walked toward him.

He reached out and rested his hand on the stair rail in front of her, blocking her path.

She stumbled to a stop, her pulse going into overdrive. He was so close. Just one tiny step forward and they’d be touching.

“I ran into your brother tonight.”

Slowly she lifted her gaze, up his muscular chest, past his strong jaw, until her eyes found his. His head was bent down, his full attention directed at her. A spark of something she didn’t want to examine too closely heated his blue, blue eyes. “Paul?”

“Do you have more than one?”

Jared’s face was so close she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. “Where did you see Paul?”

“The Sawmill. You coulda clued me in.”

“On what?”

“The name. Had a helluva time finding the place.”

“Something tells me you’re the type of guy who could find a bar in a desert.”

Jared grinned. “Is that so, sweetheart? And just what type of guy would that be?”

The type of guy that tied her up in knots and made her remember what it used to feel like to be held by a man. Caressed by a man. Wanted by a man. “I’m not your sweetheart.”

“You sure ’bout that?” He put his other hand on the rail behind her. He pressed in closer, his arms on either side of her, boxing her in. The heat from his body penetrated her and the scent of him was even more intoxicating. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there had been a fundamental shift in their relationship.

No, she had to be wrong. She leaned back until the hard edge of the stair dug into her back. “How many times have you used that line?”

“More times than I can count.”

“And how many times has it worked?”

A wicked smile transformed his face into one of pure seduction. “More times than I can count.”

“It’s not going to work,” she said with a bravado she was far from feeling.

“You sure about that?”

“Yes.”

He was so close the opened edges of his leather jacket brushed against her chest, causing all kinds of warning bells to go off inside her head. But what she didn’t know was if all that clanging was warning her that what was about to happen was something very, very bad or something very, very good.

She swallowed hard, ran her tongue over her dry, parched lips. “Intimidation by harassment.”

He slanted his body, slid his hands down the post until they were even with her waist. “You need to be more specific. There are all kinds of harassment.”

His wide chest covered her, but the weight of him was anything but unpleasant. She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips again and his gaze followed the movement. “Just so we’re both clear here, what type are we talking about?” she said.

“I think you know.”

Just when she knew she couldn’t endure another moment of being this close to him, his hands dropped away from the railings, and he stepped back. Instantly she felt the loss of body heat.

Without his arms blocking her way, she had an open path to the stairs. Everything inside of her told her to run. But she forced herself to move at a normal pace. On the third step, she stopped and turned. “I meant what I said, Jared. It’s not going to work.”

“We’ll see about that, Cotton Tail. We’ll see.”

She couldn’t reach her bedroom fast enough.

Jared watched her go. It wasn’t until he heard her door close that he leaned against the stairs and let out the breath he’d been holding. Christ. He ran his hand across his face, through the side of his hair. This was going to be a hell of a lot harder than he thought.

Her heart thudded against her chest, and her breath came out in short little gasps. She felt like she was suffocating. Drowning in a pair of midnight blue eyes.

She went to her window and swung it all the way open. Like she’d done a thousand times before, she sat on the narrow ledge, one leg in, one out. Leaning back, she gulped in deep breaths of fresh lake air as she tried to control her erratic breathing. A week. That was all it was supposed to take. One week, and he should have been gone.

Once more she saw the way his eyes had taken in every inch of her. She wrapped her arms around herself, felt the bulky cotton sweatshirt beneath her hands. The extra layer of clothing should have made her feel safer.

She turned her face toward the dark lake, let the night air caress her skin, blow through her hair.

He wasn’t budging. Not without his money. It was the same realization she’d come to earlier today in her office. But somehow, in the shadowy darkness of her room, that reality became much clearer.

Her breasts began to tingle, almost as if he were still pressed against her. She hugged herself tighter, tried to force the sensation from her body.

The sound of the lake came to her. She closed her eyes, listened to the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore. Time became a blur. She grew numb from sitting on the hard wooden windowsill, but still she didn’t move.

For as long as she could remember, it had just been her and Steven. The two of them against the world. They’d met before they could talk. Became playmates before they could walk. Their love had been gradual, building slow and steady over time. Like the fortification of a strong foundation that would never give way.

Promise me, she’d say to him each time before he left. Promise me you’ll come home.

Baby, I’ll be back. We’ll have a lifetime together, you’ll see.

And he’d been right, he had come home. But he’d also been wrong.

He’d quit flying jets. Quit flying too fast, too high, too dangerously. And foolishly, she’d thought that after he’d stopped, she could stop worrying.

They were supposed to grow old together. Have babies and raise them here on the shores of Hidden Lake. Now he was gone, and every dream she’d ever had was buried along with him. She knew their type of love didn’t just disappear. That even though Steven wasn’t still with her, her heart would always be with him. Or so she’d thought. But after tonight . . . after the way she’d felt held between Jared’s arms . . .

But the only sound she heard was a night bird calling to its mate. This time, he wasn’t going to be her soft place to fall. This time, there was only her. And her heart that wasn’t as impenetrable as she’d thought.