She took a long swallow of the juice, being careful not to drink too much or too fast.

  Meghan felt her energy level rising. She needed to rest a little longer before returning home. Two miles out of her usual routine meant it would take her a lot longer to get home if she didn’t call someone. She’d already rejected taking any kind of public transportation due to her personal hygiene needs.

  Evelyn Garrison was home, Meghan thought. Her neighbor would come and get her. Of course, Evelyn would complain about the state of Meghan’s hair and her lack of makeup. She’d reached for the zippered pocket on her shorts for her cell phone, when her fingers suddenly went numb.

  It couldn’t be, she told herself. She blinked. Then squinted. Her eyes closed and opened. Nothing changed. The vision continued, getting closer and closer with each jogging step. The apparition she didn’t want to see, clarified until she couldn’t deny the identity of the man about to come face to face with her. Unconsciously, Meghan twisted the ring on her finger.

  Thomas hadn’t seen her yet, hadn’t connected his gaze to crystallize her features into the unique individual she was. Meghan didn’t want to see him. He’d disturbed every cell in her body, and she wanted more time before she had to confront both him and her feelings. At this moment they were both jumbled and confused.

  She couldn’t leave, couldn’t move or she’d draw attention to herself. She had no hat to pull down to camouflage her features. She must look like hell. Meghan prayed he’d be so far in the zone that he wouldn’t notice her. She told herself there must be hundreds of women who jogged here, hundreds who sat at these tables and drank juice. Why should he notice her?

  She stared, keeping her body rigid, and her eyes trained on a single point in space. But it was no use. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him. Her head moved with his movements, taking in the glistening sheen on his muscular frame. He was gorgeous, wearing only shorts and shoes. Meghan took in the length of his legs, the way his muscles contracted and expanded as he ran. She studied each section of his body individually, long legs and thighs, a tapered waist that held a torso that looked like it had been carved by Michelangelo’s chisel. Broad shoulders ended in corded arms. And the entire package was covered with flawless skin. Meghan couldn’t keep the parts of him segmented. Her mind melded them, putting him together into a single, moving machine of muscle and bone that had Meghan panting.

  Her heartbeat pounded and the cooling her body had accomplished previously was completely lost in the heat of his presence.

  And then he saw her.

  Surprise widened his deep brown eyes and they connected with hers. He stopped his run. Meghan thought he stumbled, but he recovered so quickly she was sure she’d imagined it.

  Leaning forward with his hands on his knees, he sucked in air. Seeing Meghan had jolted him out of the zone. His body was reacting to the sudden reduction of endorphins, the stoppage of muscle movement. The machinery had been shut down, not slowed and allowed to cool in the normal manner.

  Standing up, Thomas jumped in place, rapidly bending each knee. Then he stopped and stretched his legs, pulling each knee up to his chest, then bending each one behind him to keep his body from cramping. Meghan sat like a boulder, unable to move, but capable of riotous feelings, all of which ripped through her.

  Thomas came forward and dropped into the chair opposite her. “I didn’t know you ran,” he said, looking at her clothes. Meghan was dressed for jogging. She’d been doing it as an alternative to joining a gym.

  “With all the rich meals I’ve had in the past few weeks, I need to do something to counteract weight gain.”

  She’d tried for levity, but Thomas’s expression didn’t change.

  “I’ve never seen you here before.” He used his arm to wipe away sweat that poured from his face. Meghan reached into her zippered pocket and handed him a clean shammy along with the remainder of her drink.

  “I don’t usually jog here. I prefer the streets.”

  He drained the bottle and dried his face, arms and chest. Meghan couldn’t stop herself from following the path of the shammy cloth as it mapped his body. Meghan had the insane thought of taking the cloth and rubbing it all over his body. Again heat assailed her.

  “Why?” he asked.

  It took her a moment to understand his question. “I like to see things,” she said. “The streets have buildings, people, the land isn’t uniform. It has inclines and depressions—things to make the run interesting.”

  “But that may not be the best place to run.”

  She knew he made reference to the area where she lived. “No better, no worse than here. And I’m careful. I know most of the people on my normal route. Today I went a little farther.”

  He stared directly in her eyes. “You jogged here?” His eyebrows went up. “From your house?”

  She nodded. Her throat closed off and she felt like a child being caught doing something wrong. “I’m not planning to jog back. I was about to call a friend to come and pick me up.”

  Thomas stood up. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “Can you stand up?” he asked.

  “Of course I can stand up,” she answered, but made no move to prove it.

  “Are your legs burning?”

  “No.” She lied for no reason. Why shouldn’t she tell him she’d run too far and that the nitrogen had collected in her leg muscles?

  “Good,” he said. “Stand up.”

  He reached for her hand. Meghan hesitated a moment. Not because she couldn’t stand, but because she was unsure how she’d react to his touch.

  Slipping her hand into his, she felt his soft palm. Doctor’s hand, she thought. She tried to view him in that capacity, as a doctor, someone impartial and without prejudice.

  It didn’t work.

  Meghan stood up, locking her knees and keeping herself erect.

  Evelyn Garrison was descending the stairs when Thomas parked his car in front of Meghan’s house. A smile showed her gleaming, white teeth as Thomas got out of the car and came around to help Meghan. Thomas had put on a T-shirt, but he still wore the shorts that hugged his tight butt so well Meghan wanted to cup the buns in her hands.

  She didn’t miss the smile on Evelyn’s face as she casually waved and pulled the door to her car open.

  “I can’t wait to get into the shower,” Meghan said.

  “Do you mind if I shower, too?” Thomas asked.

  Lights burst so brightly through her mind that she grabbed onto the car to wait for the blindness to subside. Unfortunately when it did, she had a mental image of the two of them naked in her shower.

  “I have a meeting downtown and if I go to my office, I’ll be late for it.”

  Meghan tried to understand his words, but her mind was elsewhere.

  “What did you say?”

  “I have a meeting I need to get to and I want to use your shower.”

  “Sure,” she said. “Sure.”

  Thomas pulled a change of clothes from the trunk of his car and together they went into the house. It always felt small when he was there.

  The house had only one shower and it was in the en suite off the bedroom. At this moment Meghan wished she’d installed the shower Suzanne had always wanted in the second bathroom.

  “The shower is in the first room on the left at the top of the stairs.” Thomas immediately raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time and finding the bedroom as if he had been there several times.

  Meghan let out a long breath when she heard the bathroom door close. She sat down, then thought of Thomas removing his clothes and standing under the spray of water. On the jogging track, he wore only shorts and shoes. Meghan had studied his features as if she were an art student. The truth was, she couldn’t tear her gaze away. She could imagine him now, his body wet and naked. Never had she wanted to touch a man, run her hands over him the way she wanted to rush up the steps and join Thomas in her shower. Meghan had to stop. She opened her mouth and panted, shaking her hands in the air, trying to cool the heat her thoughts had created.

  Catching a glance of herself in the microwave, she noted her reflection was disheveled and unattractive. She nearly jumped off the chair. Sprinting up the stairs, she rushed into Suzanne’s bathroom. She’d never moved so fast. Turning on the taps, she stripped and knelt in the tub, sluicing water all over herself and quickly bathing with a sponge.

  She had to work fast. She needed to get into her bedroom and get clothes on before Thomas came out of the shower. She didn’t want him to catch her wrapped in only the fluffy white towel she’d curled around herself. And she knew, as much as she imagined him in the buff, he didn’t want to be surprised by her unexpected presence when he opened that door.

  Pulling a sundress over her still-damp body, Meghan tucked her hair into a scrunchy. Pushing her feet into low-heeled sandals, she settled for lipstick, eye shadow and a light powder to enhance her cheeks.

  Returning to the kitchen, she put on a pot of coffee and then opened the refrigerator. It was stocked with food. Meghan didn’t eat out often. She’d carried her lunch to work, often the remainders of the previous night’s dinner. She wasn’t a go-to-the-mall-and-eat-while-you-shop person. If she got hungry, her first thought was to go home.

  Now she stood in front of enough food to feed several families and she couldn’t decide if she should cook something or not. She hadn’t eaten before going out and now she wasn’t sure she could get anything to pass her throat. Thomas was still upstairs. She listened for him moving around, but the house had been built solidly and she could hear nothing.

  She reached for the eggs, not thinking why she wanted them. The coffeepot gurgled.

  “Coffee,” she said out loud, as if it could save her.

  “I’ll have a cup.”

  Startled, Meghan turned and nearly dropped the eggs.

  “Wow!” Thomas said.

  “Wow!” Meghan said at the same time. Thomas looked good enough to eat. And at this moment, she just might take a bite out of him.

  “While I was in the shower, I was thinking,” he said.

  Meghan handed him a cup of coffee and offered him sugar and cream. He passed on both.

  “What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking about a play.”

  “Are you an actor now?”

  He laughed at her joke, shaking his head. “Would you like to go tonight?”

  “To see what?”

  He shook his head. “Whatever is playing at the national theater.”

  “In D.C.?”

  “We could go to Broadway, but that would take longer and we’d miss the opening.”

  Meghan knew he was teasing her. She wasn’t used to his world, a place where people picked up and did what they wanted with no thought to the cost of it.

  “Are you entertaining business clients?”

  “No clients. Just us.”

  Meghan forced herself not to smile. She kept her face straight, although her heart was screaming for joy. “Just us?” She needed confirmation.

  He nodded. “Don’t you like the theater?”

  “I love it.”

  “Good. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”

  He set his cup down and with a nod headed for the door with his gym bag in tow. Meghan followed him. At the front door she called his name and he turned to her.

  “You don’t have to do this,” she told him.

  “Do what?”

  “You don’t have to take me out. I mean alone. If you have clients to woo or you need to convince people our relationship is normal, I’ll support your needs. I’ve already agreed to the surrogacy. I won’t back out.”

  Thomas set his gym bag down and straightened up. “Did it ever occur to you that I might want to be alone with you?”

  Meghan shook her head.

  “Well, let me remind you.”

  He took a step toward her, cupped her face in his hands and aimed for her mouth. Meghan turned her head and his lips landed on her side of her mouth.

  Refusing his kiss was the hardest thing she’d ever done. She still felt waves of sensation coursing through her at just the tiniest of touches from him. She wanted the full-blown sensual waltz. She wanted him to sweep her off her feet, carry her back into the house, and make passionate love to her. But they didn’t have that kind of relationship. He was from the clean, uniformed lines on a running-track world and she was the zigzag-over-cracked-sidewalks type. Eventually, they would both return to their separate worlds.

  “Don’t do that again,” she said when he pushed back. “We both need to remember what we’re doing.”

  Thomas took a step back. It was one step, but Meghan knew the gulf between them stretched the length of the Baltimore Beltway.

  “I apologize,” he said. They stared at each other. Meghan didn’t know what to say or do. The air between them hissed with tension. Meghan was close enough to see Thomas’s jaw tighten.

  “Don’t misunderstand me,” she said. “I’m a realist and when this is all over, I want to be able to walk away with my emotions intact.”

  “And I’m a threat to those emotions.”

  She looked down, then back up. “I think you know you are.”

  Meghan didn’t know what she expected him to say or even if she expected him to say anything. He didn’t speak, but he also didn’t drop his gaze. Like fighters facing off and ready to battle, the two of them stood their ground.

  “You’re right,” he said.

  Meghan wasn’t sure what he was agreeing with her on. The fact that he knew he tested her emotions, or that they would part in nine months.

  “You’re right,” he said again. “I suppose I was forgetting the arrangement. I promise it won’t happen again.”

  He retrieved his bag from the floor and faced her again. “I’ll leave the two tickets at the box office. You can use them or not. I don’t care.”

  Chapter 6

  “Ladies, gentlemen, thank you.” Thomas watched the meeting break up. The investors he employed filed out of the conference room to return to their duties—the business of making money. Thomas owned a small investment house. He was doing well. Even in this economy, Thomas was holding his own. He had a good staff, one that needed expanding if their predictions were true. And he had no reason to doubt them. He wished his thoughts on Meghan would coalesce into something as identifiable as the market.

  He sat down in the big leather chair and slumped back against the butter-soft upholstery. The long conference table stretched out before him. Thomas was thinking of Meghan and their encounter that morning. Just seeing her had kicked his heart rate up a couple of notches.

  He didn’t know she jogged. There were so many things he didn’t know about her. When he took her home, showered in her bathroom, he thought it might be good to get to know more about her, but she’d crushed that thought.

  And rightfully so.

  Thomas might be getting married again, but he never planned to get emotionally involved with another woman. Somehow he was forgetting that with Meghan, but she’d reminded him of it this morning. He should have thanked her. Instead he threw her reminder in her face.

  And he couldn’t get her out of his mind. The way her hair fell to the nape of her neck. After his shower, when he’d found her in her kitchen, her back to him, looking into the refrigerator, that space at the back of her neck was exposed. Calling to him. Begging him to cover the small space of skin with his kiss.

  Thank heaven he hadn’t acted on the thought.

  Getting up, he returned to his office. The desk was covered with paper. He didn’t sit down, but stood next to his chair and looked at the photo of Ruth on his desk. He’d carried her in his heart for a long while, given her a place of honor in his life. How could he so easily forget that when he was with Meghan?

  Their relationship was temporary. Nine short months. Then she’d be gone and he’d have the child he and Ruth had wanted. Meghan would be a memory. There was no need to get involved in her life, no need to learn her likes and dislikes. No need to think about sitting in a dark theater with her, watching her as she saw the actors on the stage. No need to think of laughing with her, or having that late supper.

  Thomas took a deep breath. He grabbed the computer mouse and looked at the screen. It was time to work. Meghan had to go to the back of his mind.

  Damn, he cursed. The tickets.

  He reached for the phone, but it buzzed indicating his secretary was calling him. Punching the button, he spoke into the air.

  “Yes.”

  “If you don’t leave now, you’re going to be late for lunch.”

  “I’m on my way,” Thomas said. He went to punch the release button, when he remembered the tickets. “Rhonda, would you call the National and order two tickets for tonight’s performance? Have them left at Will Call under the name of Meghan Howard?”

  “Certainly,” she said.

  Thomas took a moment to get the mental images that dropped into his head each time he thought of Meghan in order before leaving for his appointment. He didn’t see the anger that was on her face at his last words. He saw the soft-looking woman in the yellow sundress, who’d aroused him.

  Pushing that image away, Thomas stood up and pushed his arms into the suit jacket that was hanging behind the door. He adjusted his tie and left his office. As he passed his secretary, the phone rang. Thomas shook his head and continued toward the elevator.

  The restaurant wasn’t that far away, but he couldn’t walk there. The day was hot, much hotter than it had been when he was jogging. He considered removing the jacket, but decided against it. Jumping into a taxi, he knew it would take a while to get to La Marseilles in the downtown traffic.

  Thomas spent the time thinking about Meghan. She slipped into his mind, like a fond memory. This morning when he’d come across her sitting in the park, his body had lurched, but he’d managed not to let his step falter. He was sorry he’d left her angry. He wanted to kiss her and she’d rejected him.

  The taxi stopped. Thomas checked his watch. He’d lost track of time, but he was a few minutes early for the meeting. Getting out of the cab, his hand instinctively went to his hip where he kept his wallet. The space was devoid of the bulge he expected to find there. That sinking feeling dropped his stomach to the ground. Pulling the back door open again, he checked the seat to see if it had fallen out of his pocket, although he knew that was nearly impossible with the depth of the pocket.