“Not this man.” Cami’s heart hurt at that and she ignored it. “I don’t want to go tonight.” She wanted to stay home and think about the things Tanner would want from her, how maybe he’d coax them from her in that sexy voice of his.

  “Think mortgage.”

  Cami thought about Tanner instead, thought about how he’d said she went through mental hoops for everyone’s happiness but her own. She opened her mouth to say something of that nature to her sister, to maybe ask for advice, but Dimi was wise enough to hang up on her.

  WHEN TANNER heard the shower turn on, he imagined Cami in there, stripping down, stepping under the spray of the water. Imagined her wet, sleek, perfect body gleaming as she ran soapy hands over her limbs…

  And smashed his thumb with his hammer.

  While he was dancing and swearing, his cell phone rang.

  “Get lucky yet?” his father asked.

  “I’ve been working too hard to get lucky, thank you very much.” He sucked on his throbbing thumb.

  “Love’s more important than money.”

  “Can’t live off sex,” Tanner replied. Damn, that thumb was going to hurt all day.

  “I said love, not sex.”

  “Well, I don’t do love.”

  “I raised you better than that.”

  Tanner gave up on the conversation entirely, ignoring his father’s musing that maybe his son was overlooking something really special right beneath his nose simply to preserve his precious bachelorhood out of habit. Bad habit.

  It wasn’t bad habit that kept Tanner single, but dedication and hard work. No woman would want to play second fiddle to a struggling business and long hours and…oh, hell.

  He was ignoring something special—Cami—in order to preserve his bachelorhood, which meant his father was right.

  He could live with that.

  Tanner worked some more, and later watched Cami measure a customer for a spring wardrobe.

  She’d already explained to him that sewing was how she made money until she got her design business going, and with that news he should have worried about his own paycheck.

  Instead he watched her, fascinated. Watched her slim, capable hands spread material, saw her hunch over her plans and talk to herself as she stuck pins into paper and once into her finger.

  When she brought that finger to her mouth and sucked, he actually got hard.

  So he worked some more and told himself to stop watching her. Which lasted until much later, when she came into his view wearing yet another summer dress, looking nervous.

  “Don’t tell me.” He tossed aside his tool belt and studied her. “You’re going through with tonight’s date even after the last fiasco.”

  “I promised.”

  He opened his mouth to tell her what he thought of her promises to do things she didn’t want to do, but at the look of trepidation on her face he closed it again.

  The doorbell rang. They both looked out the window. A shiny red Corvette was parked in front of her walkway. Every inch of the car had been well tended; the chrome was polished to a mirror shine.

  “There won’t be any car trouble tonight,” she said, staring out the window.

  Any guy who drove a red Corvette with polished chrome was slick, Tanner told himself, and grabbed Cami’s purse off her shoulder.

  “Tanner!”

  He pawed through the mysterious mess that made up the contents of a woman’s purse and didn’t answer.

  “What are you doing?”

  Hell if he knew, except the thought of her with a slick, rich mama’s boy just didn’t sit right with him.

  No way did he want them to have the convenience of a condom right in her purse. Of course the guy could be packing himself, and if he was smart, he was, but Tanner couldn’t control that.

  Aha! His fingers closed over the condom, and he withdrew it.

  “Hey!”

  He pocketed the little packet just as the doorbell rang again. “Don’t drink and drive, and remember, call if you’re going to be late.”

  She gaped at him, then lifted a finger and pointed it in the region of his face. “You’ve lost it,” she said, turning toward the door.

  Her hair spun silkily, teasing him with its light scent. Her skirt whirled with her movement, brushing his legs. And her bare shoulders were such temptation he nearly bent and bit her.

  Definitely, he’d lost it.

  “Not too late to change your mind. Or to stand firm on your own wishes.”

  She went still, her hand on the door. “If you know me so well, what are those wishes?”

  “Maybe your fantasy date.”

  “With who?”

  “Maybe with me.”

  The doorbell startled them both, and with a soft curse, she pulled open the door.

  Tanner decided he couldn’t watch, so he left her alone and disappeared into the back half of the town house, where he had more than enough work waiting for him.

  “Meow.”

  He looked into Annabel’s face. She looked worried. Dammit, now he was really losing it. “She’ll be fine. She has a cell phone.”

  She had one last time, too, and look what happened.

  He bent for his tool belt, but the ridiculous image of Cami in that Corvette stuck with him. She wasn’t out with another Ted, that was certain. And for all her talent and charm, he knew Cami wasn’t especially…well, worldly. Not naive, exactly, but far too sweet to be on her own with a spoiled rich jerk.

  He’d have to hurry or he’d lose them.

  He dropped the tool belt and grabbed his keys, cursing himself the entire way to his truck.

  “WHY ARE WE HERE?” Cami asked Joshua a few minutes later.

  Her date turned off the engine, unhooked his seat belt and turned to her with a smile that made her nervous.

  It wasn’t him, she assured herself. He was very handsome, in a boyish sort of way. In fact, he reminded her of a schoolgirl’s dream, the sort of guy who was captain of the football team, who wore a letter jacket and made every guy jealous and every girl swoon.

  “Joshua?”

  “I thought we’d have a backward date,” he said smoothly, reaching across her to unhook her seat belt, too. He slid closer, his lips curved, his eyes intent.

  Oh, boy.

  They were at the top of Tahoe Donner, miles above the town of Truckee and miles from civilization. Far below, the lights around Donner Lake twinkled invitingly.

  Around her was nothing but darkness, reminding her of last night.

  Her heart started pounding, because here it wasn’t Ted and his unreliable car. It was Joshua, who seemed to be famished for something, and since it obviously wasn’t dinner, she leaned against the door and gave him a weak smile. “You know what? I’m not really fond of backward dates.”

  His hands closed over hers, squeezing once before traveling slowly up her arms. He licked his lips. “You’re far more beautiful than I imagined you’d be. My mother doesn’t usually have the greatest taste.”

  Since Cami made his mother’s clothes and thought Mrs. Brown had excellent taste, she bristled. “Hey—”

  “I’ll have to thank her.”

  He was leaning close, far too close.

  “You know what?” she asked on a shaky laugh. “I might have forgotten to mention—” Her back pressed into the door handle, hard. “I like my own space. You seem to be invading it.”

  “Funny, too,” he murmured, his mouth unbearably close to hers. “I like funny.”

  “Back off,” she warned, putting her hands to his chest.

  “Ooh, and tough. Good. Get rough with me.” When his mouth slid over her jaw, she gritted her teeth and shoved hard.

  He didn’t budge.

  She’d tried to be nice. Given that, she had no compunction about waiting one more second, just as he pressed his body into hers, before she put all her weight behind it and drove her knee into his groin.

  The air left him in a rush, and he collapsed over her so hard she couldn’t breathe. Just as she would have shoved him off, the door supporting her flew open.

  She immediately fell to the ground, with Joshua sprawled over top of her. The air whooshed out of her lungs, but she managed to blink her eyes open just in time to see Tanner haul Joshua off her.

  Tanner?

  She blinked again. Yep, it was him. No tool belt, but he looked intense and fierce and really mad. Madder than when he’d hammered his own thumb.

  “Tanner—”

  “Hush, Cami,” he said. He pulled back his fist, but Joshua was groaning so loudly and had turned so green that Tanner dropped him to the ground in disgust.

  “Well,” he said, brushing off his hands, turning to Cami. “Excuse me. Seems you did your own rescuing this time.”

  THEY DIDN’T TALK on the ride home. Or rather, Tanner didn’t. Whenever Cami tried, his hands fisted on the steering wheel and steam came out of his ears.

  “That’s really silly, don’t you think?” she asked finally. “Not talking to me? Is it because I didn’t need your help?”

  He broke his silence at that. “Are you kidding?

  I’m thrilled you didn’t need my help to knee that idiot in the family jewels.”

  “Then why are you so mad?”

  He shook his head and let out a low laugh that held little humor in it. “Because you frustrate the hell out of me.” He downshifted and glared at her. “And I guess it’s because I want you to do something you’re not capable of.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t know…how about stop pleasing others and please yourself.”

  She stared at him.

  “What’s the matter, Cami? I’ve never seen you without something to say before.”

  “Well, there’s no reason to be rude.”

  “You know, I can’t figure out if it’s because you don’t know your own mind, or if it’s because you know it all too well and are afraid of it, but I can’t stand watching you do this to yourself.”

  Stung to the quick, she looked straight ahead. “Never mind,” she whispered. “I liked it better when you were giving me the silent treatment.”

  7

  CAMI THOUGHT she’d have to be tricky to avoid Tanner, but since he avoided her first, she had no trouble at all.

  He used loud tools, a loud crew and even louder rock music, and spent every moment doing just his job.

  He even avoided Dimi, unknowingly, of course, when she came in after work the next afternoon to steal a snack.

  “Not even a courtesy hello,” Dimi whispered to Cami on her way out the door. “I’m late for a date with my mechanic or I’d stay and mess with him to see he paid for that. Do you realize he didn’t even give me the customary you’re-a-loon look?”

  “He’s mad at me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…well, it’s complicated.”

  “Honey, with you it usually is.”

  Cami should have been able to explain the truth to Dimi, but since she’d just come to it, and it wasn’t exactly flattering, she held her tongue.

  She understood Tanner’s anger and frustration. She really did. And the worst part of it was, he was more right than he could know. Cami did let others railroad her into their wishes. She did it because she knew those wishes would never lead her heart to true happiness, so in a way, it meant she was always safe.

  She had no intention of leading her heart to true happiness ever, because she didn’t believe in it.

  There. She’d thought it out loud, now she’d deal with it. And Tanner.

  Somehow.

  He was still ignoring her. No teasing, no hot looks, no discussions that were deep and uncomfortable and oddly exhilarating.

  No nothing.

  She missed him. Stupid, since she was the one who’d wanted to do the avoiding, dammit. But though she had come to terms with the fact she wouldn’t go for love, ever, she didn’t plan on giving up other joys.

  Such as lust.

  This was the age of the woman. She could want a man, physically, and have that be it. And though it made no sense whatsoever, she wanted Tanner.

  His crew left a few moments before him. Her client—not Mrs. Brown, who’d dumped her like a bad habit after she’d unmanned her son—had left, as well.

  Just music and tools to compete with, but Cami hadn’t been a beauty queen in high school for nothing. She knew how to get a man’s attention.

  She just didn’t know how to keep it.

  Dressed for the part, she slipped out of the bathroom and pulled the plug on his portable CD player. The rock music died.

  She also pulled the plug on the orange extension cord that ran down the hallway and disappeared into her bedroom.

  Abruptly all was silent.

  “What the—” she heard Tanner say, with some colorful words added on the end of that.

  Raising her brow, she followed the extension cord and found him standing in the middle of the room, back to her, arms extended over his head, holding a nail gun.

  “That’s not funny, Juan,” he said without looking. “Just because you have a hot date and have to leave early, some of us still have work left to do. Plug it back in.”

  “It’s not Juan,” Cami told him, fascinated by the play of muscles stretching his T-shirt taut across his back. His arms were pretty nice, too, all damp and tense and straining.

  She thought he might have sworn again, softly this time, before slowly lowering the nail gun.

  At the sight of her, his eyes flared with heat, stroking her destroyed ego just a bit.

  “Hi,” she said, running her hands down her sundress. She’d worn a sundress on both of her dates, but those had been relatively conservative.

  Sleeveless, but loose and flowing and flowery.

  This sundress was siren red, short as sin and just as snug. So snug, in fact, she hoped there wasn’t a fire or some other natural disaster be cause she wouldn’t be able to run for help without hitching the skirt to her waist, which wouldn’t be exactly ladylike. Not that she was going for lady like at the moment.

  “You weren’t wearing that a few moments ago when you came prancing down the hallway with a bag of potato chips.”

  Damn, her sister had stolen her chips. Again!

  Somehow she knew Tanner should be told about Dimi, and now would be a good time, but keeping that part of her life to herself was deeply ingrained.

  “Don’t tell me,” he said in a low, rough, nearly strangled voice. “You’re going on another date in that.”

  “No, I wanted to talk to you.”

  “In that?”

  “What’s wrong with it?” She smoothed the bodice, which lifted her breasts up and out so far she didn’t dare breathe or she’d pop out.

  Definitely not ladylike.

  Still, her body was demanding air—it was funny that way—and she couldn’t hold her breath another moment, so she drew in the shortest one she could manage.

  Tanner’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Don’t do that,” he said, lifting a hand as if to stop her.

  “I have to,” she said, dizzy with effort. “Or I’m going to pass out.” And because suddenly she really felt her world fading, she put her hands to her knees and bent over.

  Tanner swore again, far more vividly than before.

  Definitely he was still mad at her.

  She heard his nail gun hit the floor. Then, from her bent-over position, his feet appeared.

  “Sit down,” he commanded.

  She thought about that. “Can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “My dress is too tight.”

  He was silent for a moment, then suddenly her world spun as he swung her up. One of his arms supported her back, the other was beneath her knees, leaving her no choice but to throw her arms around his neck. And because she’d been wondering what his strong shoulders would feel like beneath her head, she set it there. Then she sighed, because it felt heavenly. He felt heavenly.

  “Cami.”

  Just that, just her name, in a voice so serrated and sexy she nearly sighed again. She felt his arm supporting her back, his fingers angled just beneath her breast. It tingled.

  His other arm held her legs, which meant the fingers of that hand were on the bare skin of the back of her upper thigh.

  Nice. She wished he wasn’t still so mad at her, wished that she could explain herself better, that she was as good at talking about her feelings as he was, because maybe then she could make him understand that this attraction could be a beautiful thing. Temporary—since she couldn’t think permanent—but beautiful.

  Thinking that, and melting just a little, she sighed.

  Then remembered she wasn’t supposed to breathe or she was going to pop right out of her dress. With an odd mix of dismay and anticipation, she glanced down. Yep, her nightmare had come true. Definitely that was half a breast straining free of the red material, including a nice peekaboo shot of one rosy, hard-tipped nipple.

  “Cami,” Tanner said again, in a voice so low and tight her entire body shivered.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, pulling one hand from around his neck, covering her bared breast with her fingers.

  “You’re killing me,” he said huskily.

  “Does that mean you’re not still mad at me?”

  He let out a rough laugh that held no humor. “Look, you wanted to talk, and I’m trying to remember that, instead of doing what I want, which would be to press you against that wall there and taste what you’ve just offered me up.”

  Visions of that very thing danced in her head and made her bones melt.

  “Listen, Cami, client or not, crazy or sane, for better or worse, you’re making me so hot and bothered I can’t think straight. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “That you…want me?”

  “I want you so bad I’m weak as a baby.”

  The sound that escaped her was far more like a whimper of pleasure than of mortification, and his eyes practically smoldered. His chest rumbled with a groan and he closed his eyes to the sight she’d unwittingly planted on him. “Talk,” he said through his teeth.

  “I…forgot what I wanted to say.”

  “Why?” he asked the ceiling. “Why are you doing this to me?”