Thankfully, she was saved by the doorbell. She set the spoon down and wiped her hands on her apron.

  She’d never worn an apron before at home, but today she’d put on her best pair of jeans and nicest shirt. Nothing compared to what everyone else would be wearing, she was sure, but it was the best she had. The last thing she wanted to do was stain what she was wearing.

  Opening the door wide, she welcomed Mallory and Nick in. They stomped the snow off their boots and left them by the door.

  “I didn’t know it was going to snow today. I wasn’t even paying attention to the weather,” she said.

  “I saw a few inches in the forecast, but it’s a slow moving storm. It’ll probably end by midday tomorrow,” Nick said.

  “Nick,” Quinn said, turning toward Max. “This is Max Hamilton. Max, Nick Buchanan and Mallory Dex—”

  “Mallory Denning,” Mallory said quickly, laughing at Quinn who’d completely forgotten that Dexter was the alias.

  “Soon to be Buchanan,” Nick added. “Oh man, I smell seafood. What are you making?”

  Nick and Mallory followed her into the kitchen. “Seafood casserole with a side of homemade linguine.”

  “Here’s my humble apple pie,” Mallory said, handing it over. “I didn’t bake it yet, just like you said.”

  “I’ll put it in the oven right now and it can bake while we eat. Warm apple pie and vanilla ice cream,” Quinn said eying Max, knowing the sweet tooth he had.

  “Looks like it’s my lucky night,” Max said, staring at her long enough that Mallory cleared her throat and laughed.

  “Max, why don’t you pour everyone a glass of wine and go into the dining room? I’ll bring dinner in.”

  “No,” Mallory said. “I’ll help. You two guys can go sit and relax, get to know each other. It’d be nice for you to get to know someone here other than me and your grandmother, Nick.”

  Quinn watched Max and Nick leave the room. Then she turned and pulled the casserole out of the oven and shut the water off that her linguine was boiling in.

  “So what is going on with you two?” Mallory asked.

  “What do you mean?” Quinn asked, hoping she could have gotten away with no one suspecting anything between her and Max.

  “Please. He looked like he wanted to gobble you up right now. Nick and I can leave if you want and give you two the night to yourself.”

  “Stop it,” Quinn said, blushing. “There’s nothing going on. At least not really. Or not yet.”

  “Do tell,” Mallory said.

  “I don’t ever remember you prying this much,” Quinn said.

  Mallory hardly ever talked about herself, and in doing so she never asked a lot of questions of Quinn either. Quinn liked it that way too. She wasn’t so sure she liked the inquisition right now.

  “I’m not hiding anymore, and you shouldn’t be either. Come on, spill it,” Mallory said, looking like an eager kid.

  “There’s nothing really going on.”

  “Sure there is. Don’t lie. Besides, your face is flame red, so you don’t lie well.”

  Quinn took a deep breath. What would it hurt to talk to someone else about this?

  “There isn’t much going on right now. We’re just feeling our way around each other. I mean, I work for him. Then there are the kids to consider. I’m not even sure this is a good idea.”

  “What does your gut tell you to do?” Mallory asked.

  “My gut says to take a leap and see where I land.”

  “Then do it,” Mallory said, grabbing the salad to bring in to the dining room.

  “I’m afraid where I’ll fall.”

  “Everyone falls, Quinn. It’s how you get back up that matters.”

  “That was wonderful,” Nick said over two hours later. “I told Mallory and I’ll tell you, anytime you want to experiment with your recipes, I’m willing and eager.” He was rubbing his hand over his stomach.

  “Thanks,” Quinn said. “Max is easy to please—” Quinn stopped and narrowed her eyes at Mallory when she snorted. She’d never seen this side of Mallory before, even if it was funny. “The kids are pretty open-minded, but there are things they won’t even try.”

  “You know,” Max said, “you look so familiar to me, like I’ve met you before. Quinn said you owned a software company, but she didn’t tell me the name.”

  “NB Innovations.”

  “Las Vegas,” Max said suddenly. “I remember now. I saw you in Vegas.”

  “Oh really,” Mallory said, eying Nick. “What were you doing in Vegas and when?”

  Nick laughed, and leaned over to kiss Mallory on the cheek. “Over a year ago and it was a software convention.”

  “I’ve got your software,” Max said. “My office is using your scheduling software. The girls love it. They wish you had more medical applications to it, though.”

  “Really? What are they looking for?”

  “Oh no,” Mallory said. “No shop talk. You two can talk another time about this. Besides, the snow is coming down really hard now. I think we should head home.”

  “I guess that is my cue to zip it,” Nick said. He pulled a business card out of his wallet. “Do you have a pen? I’ll give you my cell number. Call me when you have time and I’d love to come in and talk to your staff. I’ve been picking my sister’s brain for information on the medical end, but it’d be nice to talk to an entire office that uses the software daily.”

  “Is your sister a doctor?” Max asked.

  “No. She’ll be graduating in May. Physician Assistant.”

  Max nodded his head. “I’ll talk to the girls in the office and we’ll give you a call.”

  Quinn handed over a big plate of leftovers for Nick and Mallory, then waved goodbye to them. “That was fun,” she said to Max.

  “I like your friends. I don’t understand why you can’t tell me what Mallory writes, though.”

  “She doesn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t even know myself until recently. That was the bombshell she dropped a few weeks ago. Anyway, she’s always been quiet and private, but she didn’t seem it tonight. I’ll tell you when she says I can.”

  “I like your loyalty, too,” Max said, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the couch again. “You’ve been tense all night. No pressure, Quinn. I hope you don’t think I’m trying to pressure you.”

  “No,” she said. “It’s just…”

  “Just what? We can sit here and talk all night if you want. Not that I didn’t hope we’d end up in bed,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her. “But I don’t want you to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with.”

  “It’s not that. I guess it’s your job.” There, she said it.

  “What about my job?” he asked, looking completely baffled.

  “Women come to you to make themselves beautiful. You see that all the time. I don’t know if that is what you want, or even like. Maybe that’s what turns you on, all those enhancements.”

  He laughed, then gave her a quick hug and pulled her into his lap. “I like real. Yes, I make my living improving people’s looks, but that doesn’t mean it’s what appeals to me. It absolutely doesn’t. I’ve always been a big fan of a natural woman.”

  “Really?” she asked, not really believing him.

  “Do you know why I left New York?”

  “No. I mean, I guessed it was because of the divorce.”

  “That was part of it. The main reason was I needed to get away from my practice. I draw the line at the amount of work I’ll do on someone. Surgical work. If a woman, or a man, wants to have non-surgical or minimally invasive procedures, that’s fine. Though I’m not a huge fan of always having work done, it’s not the same as actual surgery.”

  “Okay. Not that I know what you’re talking about, but I think I understand.”

  “I got sick of the wealthy housewives coming in and wanting too much work. If you want to increase your breast size a cup or so, fine. Going up three and four sizes is overkill. Coming in for liposuction for the little tiny bump on their hip. Crazy. When they started bringing their kids in to have the work done, well, then it got to me.”

  “What kind of work would a kid want?”

  “You’d be surprised. Sixteen-year-olds wanting nose jobs because a boy said their nose was too straight and pointy or that they were too wide and chubby. Or cheek implants to make them stand out more or look like a celebrity. We’re born a certain way, and I’m all for enhancing our natural beauty, but not changing who we are. That’s why I left. That’s what was happening too often in New York.”

  She wondered if that was part of why he divorced. She wanted to ask if his wife had all that work done, but didn’t think it was the time to broach it.

  “It’s all out of the realm of my understanding. I don’t know anyone who’s had plastic surgery.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with it. I’m not saying there is, but I have a hard time reconciling with someone trying to change so much of themselves. A woman wanting to get rid of a little pouch after she was done with kids to feel sexy again. Sure, there’s no harm in that. But altering her appearance completely? That won’t make her happy. It’s true that plastic surgery could become an addiction. I needed to get away from that. I’d rather work with the cancer patient trying to find a way to heal and still be herself, rather than a woman trying to land a rich man.”

  “Lake Placid is pretty far removed from it.”

  “Not as much as you think. It’s not as bad as New York. Anyway, we got off topic.” He hugged her a little tighter on his lap, placed a kiss on her neck, and then moved his lips to her ear. “What I’m trying to say is you turn me on. You’re real and natural and that is what I like. That is what I want.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly, then deepened it until she felt him adjusting her a bit more across his thighs. He was obviously telling the truth that she turned him on. It was kind of hard to miss from where she was sitting.

  “Then I want to give you what you want,” she said.

  Out of the Way

  Max stared at the fireplace in his room. He hadn’t used it once since he’d moved in, never really seeing the need to. Tonight he wanted the romance of it.

  Quinn said she wanted to freshen up and was going to shower, so he came up and did the same. Only he was much faster than her and was still waiting.

  Rather than pace like he felt like doing, thinking she was going to change her mind, he started to stack the wood and kindling in the hearth.

  He was just watching the fire catch when he turned and saw her standing in his doorway wearing nothing more than a short robe.

  “I thought…what better way to face a fear than to tackle it head-on?”

  He stood up fast and gazed at her. She really was beautiful to him. Nothing about her was hidden or a sham. Her face was scrubbed clean, not a bit of makeup on, only a soft flush tinting her cheeks. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail too, exposing everything to him. He’d rarely seen it down, and for some reason he wanted to feel his hands between the silken strands.

  “Come here,” he said, holding his palm out.

  “Nope. I’m doing this on my terms.”

  He wasn’t sure what she meant by that but didn’t have long to wait.

  She untied the belt holding her robe together and just let it fall open, giving him a glimpse of the secrets underneath. The softness and curves he’d been dreaming about.

  She was on the petite side, but strong—he’d always known that. Probably from working so hard her whole life, though she wasn’t muscular, either. Toned just the right amount, mixed in with a smoothness that was all woman.

  To him, she was perfect. There wasn’t a thing out of place. The right size breasts—anything more than a handful was a waste in his mind anyway—and the right amount of curves.

  “Your terms work for me,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  For a moment he felt like a virgin again. It’d just been too long since he’d been with a woman and all he wanted to do was pick her up and toss her on the bed, then have his wicked way with her.

  Except he couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t do that. Knowing she was insecure about her body, insecure about their relationship and their situation, the last thing he was going to do was rush this.

  No, he was going to prove to her it was her he wanted. It was her he was going to please.

  Taking a step toward her, he reached his hands out and settled them on her hips, then lowered his mouth to hers. Just tasting her was enough right now. Well, not really, but enough for the moment, until he could do more. He was fighting hard to not jump to the next thing.

  “How come you’ve got more clothes on than I do?” she said, leaning back and smirking at him. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she knew exactly what was going on in his mind and she was purposely torturing him.

  “I didn’t want to assume,” he said.

  “I think agreeing to come up here with you was a good enough assumption. Let me help you undress.”

  “No.” If she put her hands on him right now, he’d never be able to control himself. “You do remember it’s been a long time for me, right?”

  “Probably not as long as for me, so I’d say we’re both pretty eager. What do you say we get to the first time fast?”

  How could he not appreciate her? “If you’re sure.”

  She looked into his eyes, then moved them lower to another part of his body, and stayed there. The heat of her gaze was burning right through his jeans.

  “Oh, I’m sure.”

  Reaching her hands up, she shrugged her robe off her shoulders and stood naked before him. Yep, she better be sure, because that move just sent him over the edge.

  He pulled his shirt over his head and flung it across the room. “I’ll pick it up later.” Then he quickly undid his jeans and dropped them to the floor, followed by his boxers.

  “Boy, you can move fast when you want to.”

  “Don’t hold that against me, okay?”

  She laughed and the sound hit him square in the chest. “I won’t.”

  Together they got on opposite sides of the bed and threw the comforter and sheets back, then climbed in. “This feels awkward,” he said. “Does it feel awkward to you?”

  He’d wanted to make it more romantic and here they were like two old married people climbing into bed at night.

  “I guess. Maybe once we get this first time out of the way, it won’t be as bad.”

  “I’m trying not to take offense at that comment.”

  What the heck? Get it out of the way? Great way to compliment a man. Then he looked at her face and saw her flush again—and noticed the shaking of her hands. She was putting on a bigger front than he was, and somehow it comforted him.

  Here he was this successful surgeon. People were coming from states away for his services. Patients were hitting on him in his office and yet he had a naked woman in his bed and he was nervous over it. It was slightly mortifying.

  They reached for each other at the same time and suddenly his nerves started to diminish. Maybe it was just talking while they were both standing there naked. It’s better to touch than talk when there were no clothes on.

  Regardless, he leaned over her, his body touching every part of her that he could. If feeling her with his hands made him think of soft velvety smoothness, it was nothing compared to how she felt pushing against him. How her breasts were pressed against his chest and her hands were squeezing his shoulders.

  She was moving urgently, letting him know she wanted this as much as he did.

  But as much as he needed a release, he forced himself to slow down. He wasn’t going to come off as an inexperienced lover. Not at all.

  Moving down her body, he started to kiss and lick, even plump and squeeze her breasts, her sides, her tummy…anything he could touch and taste. The scent of her soap was still fresh on her skin and now he understood her comment once before about him smelling so nice.

  This was better than nice, though. It was glorious, stupendous, marvelous, and okay, he was sounding like a fool, but he couldn’t get enough. If his control didn’t feel like he was hanging on a ledge by his fingertips, he’d spend a few hours kissing and touching her alone.

  Only she must have felt the same need as him, because her nails were now scratching and her hips were pressing even harder into him.

  It would only be gentlemanly for him to help her in her time of need. He scooted down a bit more, placing kisses on her belly and hips, then moved to another target. Neatly trimmed, and oh so scrumptious.

  Not waxed and smooth like so many women preferred now. She was sticking to her roots as a woman, and he appreciated it. Again, no pretense about her.

  He parted her thighs and dipped his head down for a taste, then another. Her nails were scoring him more now as she was almost shaking with need.

  “Max, don’t stop. Don’t stop doing that.”

  He didn’t, he couldn’t. He liked the sound of his name on her lips and he wanted to hear it again, only louder this time.

  Putting his mouth to her completely, he slid a finger in, then two and went to work. It wasn’t long at all, shorter than he hoped, before she was gripping the sheets in her fists and calling out his name.

  When the last pulse throbbed from her body, he moved back and grabbed the condom on the nightstand, then quickly got ready. Just like riding a bike, the art of putting one on came back automatically, even though it’d been years.

  Sliding back over her body, he kissed her hard and fast, felt her hips rise to his again, and found his way home. He’d never forget this feeling, ever. Tight, wet, and delicately sweet.

  He wanted to savor it, just for a moment, but she wasn’t letting him. She was moving more than he was, faster than he was, and he couldn’t hang on even if he wanted to. That precious perch he held onto by his fingertips was slowly slipping away.

  He’d thought he’d have to work her back up again, but he was wrong—she was right there.

  Pulling back a little only caused her to wrap her legs around his waist and yank him forward. It felt too good to not do it again, and then again, and what the hell, once more.