Chapter Five

Hallie bolstered her courage with the thought that she had something to wear and she looked damn good in it—no matter what Rik thought. Okay, he’d said in that annoying, pseudoreassuring tone. You look okay. As if she had chicken pox or measles or some other rash and that was his polite way of saying she looked like hell, but she’d get over it eventually. He could have said she looked presentable. Or pale. Or positively awful.

But okay? That was apathy, pure and simple.

It had been a long night She was having a difficult awakening this morning. There was a roaring inside her brain that resembled the sound of a half-dozen Mack trucks playing dueling engines. The least Rik could have done was offer her a compliment No matter how insincere. She needed confidence, words like professional, pretty, even passable, would have gone a long way toward mollifying her insecurities. She needed selfconfidence, not apathy. She needed to know that he’d looked at her naked body and felt something akin to attraction. Even if it was only because she was the nearest female. Even if it was merely a fleeting thought

Checking her appearance one more time in the bathroom mirror, Hallie frowned. Six years. Seventy-two months since Brad had turned his back and walked out on her, ending their short-lived marriage and taking every ounce of her self-esteem with him. Six years, and she was still looking for male approval. Seventy-two months of rebuilding her self-confidence, and still when a man saw her naked she reverted to that needy twentytwo-year-old she’d been on her wedding day.

Well, to hell with men and their opinions. No matter what she was wearing, she was still the Bernhardt of Bernhardt Bridal of Boston. With a final glance in the mirror, she wrinkled her nose and said, “So there.”

Turning, she jerked open the door and announced, “Rule number one. Whatever happened last night didn’t happen. Rule number two. No matter what condition I’m in, you are not to remove any article of my clothing. Rule number three. I don’t know what rule number three is, but when I think of something, you’ll be the first to know.”

Rik greeted her announcement with impassive silence, and when she peeked around the bathroom door into the room, she realized the reason. He was gone. Which was just as well. She only wished he could have left the room service tray and a little more breakfast. If hangovers made her hungry—and apparently they did— she had one more reason never to repeat last night’s fiasco.

Outside the window, the wind thrashed the palm trees like a mad teamster whipping his mules. Her dress had blown away long ago, but her bra still flew, high and haughty, over the terrace. She recognized yesterday’s panty hose, plastered like a nylon suntan to the windowpane. Hallie couldn’t decide what bothered her more…the undignified sprawl of the panty hose on the glass or the realization that the wind was strong enough to hold the nearly weightless nylons in place. Probably had something to do with G forces and wind velocity or some other equally inexplicable weather science, she decided. Nothing for her to worry about Just a passing glance from a hurricane that was far, far out to sea. It would be long gone before Saturday’s wedding. Barely even a memory by then.

Now the only thing standing between her and a completely professional demeanor was the knowledge that her underwear was billowing like the Jolly Roger over the Paradise Bay Honeymoon Hotel. So all she had to do was step out onto the little balcony, peel the panty hose off the window, and grab hold of that silly brassiere….

THERE WAS NO SIGN of Hallie when Rik entered room 1413. He set the peace offerings—orange juice in a plastic cup, V8 vegetable juice in a single-serving can, a bag of pretzels and something called VitaBar, the nutritious equivalent of a balanced meal!—on the table next to the ravaged remains of breakfast The vending machine at the end of the hall was a far cry from the room service meal he and Dan had demolished, but at least Hallie could have a selection from each of the four basic food groups.

A low, keening wail turned his gaze to the window and he promptly forgot sensible eating habits. What in the hell was she doing out there, he wondered as he approached the long plate-glass windows and Hallie, who was stuck to the glass like a two-toned, poppy red and pale pink pressed flower. With her back to the room, her arms extended, her palms flattened snaillike against the window, she looked uncomfortably in need of rescue.

The wind blasted him in the face the moment he slid open the glass door, and the salty, humid smell of sea spray stung his lips and nostrils, clinging to him like sand to wet skin. Wherever Hurricane Bonnie was at the moment, she was too damn close to shore. “Hello,” he yelled over the rush of wind and the roar of agitated ocean. “Enjoying a breath of fresh air, are we?”

Hallie’s hazel eyes rolled sideways in the briefest of glances, but otherwise she didn’t move a muscle. “I…came…put…to…get…my…clothes.” Her voice reached him despite the wind. “I…can’t…move.”

“Sure you can,” he yelled. “The wind is rough, but it isn’t that bad.”

“Not…the…wind.” She cut her eyes in his direction again. “Look.”

He followed her gaze to the flailing palm fronds of the nearest trees. Beyond the palms, there was an expanse of gray and grumpy sky and an even grayer and grumpier ocean. She was scared, he realized. Scared because she was standing on a thin layer of concrete and steel overlooking a pretty impressive display of Mother Nature in a very bad mood. He somehow didn’t think Hallie would feel one iota less uncomfortable, though, if the sky was as clear as a bell and the Pacific as calm as a slice of bologna. “Take my hand,” he said, inching nearer. “I won’t let you fall.”

“I’m…not…moving.”

“Okay. We’ll just stand here and enjoy the view. It’s magnificent, isn’t it?”

“This is no…time…for jokes.”

“You don’t find this view exhilarating?”

“Please. Don’t mention…the view.”

The tight line around her lips got even whiter and he was torn between feeling sorry for her discomfort and irrationally annoyed by it. “What possessed you to come out here if you’re so afraid of heights?”

“I didn’t like…my panty hose to be displayed…like some grotesque…piece of artwork.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “And I’m not afraid of…heights. The view is…just…intimidating, that’s all.”

“Then let’s go. inside.” “l cant.”

“Mind over matter, Hallie.” He reached her hand and peeled it off the glass. “Come with me.”

She shook her head.

“Are you planning to spend the rest of your life out here?” He tugged impatiently on her hand. “Come on.

“Not until my…underwear…is off…that palm branch.”

Rik narrowed his gaze, on her, wondering if he could possibly have heard her correctly. “What did you say?”

She turned her head, keeping it steady by pressing back against the window. “I said,” she repeated, “I’m not going inside until I get that—” she briefly raised and lowered her index finger to point at the bra “—unhooked.”

“Let me get this straight. You’re intimidated to the point of paralysis by this particular view of the ocean. But you won’t go inside until you’ve rescued your underwear?”

“I don’t consider it a rescue.” She turned her head in his direction again. “It’s a matter of principle.”

“The principle of insanity?”

“Look, go inside if you want I’m going to make a grab for it.”

Rik looked from her to the dangling strap of the peach-colored bra. “You can’t reach it,” he said. “Not even if you stood on the balcony rail and held on with your toes. Not a wise course of action on a windless day, much less in a hurricane.”

“I could reach it if I had a really long coat hanger,” she said. “Would you get some for me from the closet?”

“No. Because you’re not going to risk your life for a scrap of polyester, principle or not If you don’t like the thought of wearing swimsuits under your clothes, I’ll borrow something for you from Earlette or Stephanie’s sister, Bentley. Or my sister, for that matter. But you’re not going out on a limb to get that bra. The wind is going to rip it off of there eventually, anyway, and you won’t have to look at it after that.”

Her gaze turned from him to the lingerie on the tree branch and she pursed her lips. “The wind ripping it off is what bothers me. It’s bad enough knowing it’s dangling outside my hotel room. The thought of it dropping in on someone else’s balcony is more than I can stand. So I’m going to get it down…one way or another.”

Rik frowned at her underwear. He frowned at her. And then he did the only thing he could under the circumstances. He hauled her into his arms and let the wind tumble them backward onto the hotel-room floor.

He hit the floor and rolled, pulling Hallie with him and landing, with some degree of intention, on top of her. Bracing his weight on his arms, he looked down into her wide eyes and grinned. “That was fun. Want to do it again?”

“There was no call to act like a caveman.” Hallie blinked rapidly, trying to bring his face into focus. “I wasn’t going to leap off the balcony, you know.”

“No, you were going to fall off.” Rik discovered a scar on the smooth, creamy-colored slope of her cheek, just below her right eye. A tiny mark, barely noticeable except for the lighter shade of her skin there. He touched it, exploring. “What happened?”

“What do you mean what happened?” She moved her head away from his fingertip. “You went for the gold medal in the team tumbling event.”

“No, how did you get this scar?”

Her hand moved to her cheek and she brushed the mark with her knuckle. A shadow darkened her hazel eyes. “Oh, that. I don’t remember.”

He didn’t know why she lied about it, or how he knew for certain that she had, but the little scar bothered her still. And for no good reason, it bothered him, too. “You couldn’t have reached the bra,” he said reasonably. “I rescued you from certain disaster for the second time.”

The shadow vanished and he allowed himself to relax and enjoy the soft, feminine feel of her body under his. If he wasn’t a one-woman kind of guy and if his mind wasn’t already set on Stephanie, he might entertain some very lustful thoughts right about now.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said.

“Like what?”

“Like that. Like you expect me to dedicate the rest of my natural life to you in gratitude for being rescued.”

“I don’t expect anything of the sort, although gratitude is seriously underexpressed in this country, in my opinion. Besides, you’re only guessing at my expression.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re not wearing your glasses and you can’t see up close without them.”

“Maybe I’m wearing contacts.”

“You don’t own a pair of contacts because the saline solution they’re washed in irritates your eyes and, even if you did own a pair, they’d be tucked in a zippered bag inside the plastic compartment of your luggage— which is still lost—because you wouldn’t want to take a chance of having the solution spill on anything else in your suitcase.”

“How did you know that?”

“Lucky guess.” He realized with a twinge of surprise that he liked Hailie Bernhardt. Liked the way her forehead crinkled, and the way she widened her eyes to keep from squinting at him and the way her nose turned up just a little at the tip. He liked the idea that she had gone out on that balcony for a stupid reason, because otherwise he wouldn’t be lying on top of her enjoying the hell out of her predicament.

She struggled to push herself upright, but since he didn’t move, she only succeeded in stirring a little mutual attraction, which he could read clearly in her expression and in the way she closed her eyes for a minute, then opened them and lifted her brows in a meaningful arch. “Do you mind?” she asked.

“Heck, no. I’ve always liked women who wear glasses. There’s something inherently sexy about shortsighted females.”

“That’s farsighted,” she said testily. “Not shortsighted.”

His smile curved lazily. “My mistake.”

“I wasn’t asking your opinion on women with glasses. I want you to move, please.”

“Sure. I’ll even help you up, but you’ll have to promise to do something for me in return.”

“You’re pushing your luck, Rik. I didn’t ask to be rescued. I didn’t need to be rescued. And I’m sure as hell not going to be tricked into doing something stupid like promising to kiss you in return for getting a hand up off the floor.”

He curtailed his smile and frowned down at her, noting the belligerent line taken by her lips and the quirk of rebellion that reared its mischievous head in the back of his mind and practically demanded he kiss her now. “I was going to suggest you promise to let me get your bra down from the tree before I let you up, but now that you mention it, a kiss would be a lot less dangerous and a whole lot more desirable.”

The response showed immediately in her eyes… awareness, attraction, apprehension and a sort of appalled excitement “I’d rather you unhooked my bra, thank you.”

His smile was slow and good-humored. “Last night you said you wanted a kiss, and then you said you didn’t. Now you want me to forgo a kiss and put my hands on your underwear, instead. I’d almost forgotten what fickle creatures women are.”

“You’re the one who’s making up all these options. I only want to get off the floor and out from under you.”

“A noble gesture, but really, I’m quite comfortable as I am.”

She tilted her head and stretched her neck, trying, he knew, to get a more focused look at him. “How long have you been away from civilization? And how soon are you going back?”

“The Amazon is a jungle, but it isn’t entirely uncivilized. And I’m not going back. I’m staying in Hawaii. I’m starting a tour business here.”

“In that case, you’d better get yourself a book on how to impress women, because your technique is severely out of date.”

The curtain puffed across his shoulder as the wind blew a fine, hot mist of humidity into the room. Playtime was over, Rik thought with disappointment. He couldn’t keep teasing her like this indefinitely. But the next time Hallie offered, he just might take her up on it If only to prove that kissing was never stupid and that she wasn’t quite as immune to his nearness as she’d like for him to believe. She angled her brows an unbelievably impatient degree higher, arching them in a saucy little dare while she waited for him to make a move. Hell, he wished she hadn’t done that.

“I don’t think much of self-help books,” he told her. “Not when hands-on training is available.”

He saw the flicker of panic in her eyes, even though he wasn’t sure if it was apprehension or comprehension or a simple matter of unfocused vision. But it pleased him to know she realized her mistake and his intention at approximately the same second. Then he was close enough to smell the tropical fragrance that clung to her skin, close enough to feel the moist, warm rush of her breath, close enough to acknowledge that kissing Hallie might possibly hold some small danger for him, as well. Then he covered her lips in a quick and forceful kiss.

At least he intended for it to be quick and forceful, but she tasted of island wind and ocean spray, and her shoulders were bare and soft to the touch of his hand, and her lips parted, ever so invitingly, under his. A pleasantly sensual blend of responses kindled inside his body and he let them have their way, turning the forceful into purposeful and the quick…

Well, one out of two wasn’t bad, and there was no way, once the kiss had begun, he could let it end. Not right away. In fact, he could think of any number of reasons this particular kiss should continue indefinitely. The main one being that he hadn’t imagined he could enjoy kissing Hallie this much.

Now that he thought about it, though, that was the very best reason he had to back off. Which he did, surprising himself by the strength of willpower it took to leave the warm, parted softness of her lips. Her eyelids remained closed for a moment, her lashes forming a straight, pudgy shadow against her skin. When they drifted upward and her eyes opened, he felt a funny stirring somewhere around his heart, a feeling all too close to desire and decidedly uncomfortable.

He met her gaze with a purposely casual smile and the unbidden hope that her dazed look was a result of his kiss and not just her lack of corrective lenses.

“I guess I should have held out for the book,” he said.

“And the video.” She moved beneath him and he pushed to his feet, leaning down to offer her a hand up.

An offer she ignored as she got her feet under her and stood. “If my brain wasn’t so woolly from last night’s tequila sunrise, you’d still be on the floor, in pain, and reaching the conclusion that rescues are no longer in your job description.” She dusted her hands— of him, he suspected—and moved to close the sliding glass door. The curtains settled with a final puff, and the humidity in the room rose in a stuffy and stale silence. Hands on her hips, she stared out the window at the peach-colored bra, and Rik admired her shoulders and the long, slender drape of the pareu.

Maybe he had been in the jungle too long, because Hallie was looking damn good to him. Kissing her had been better than his first taste of full-bodied red wine. and just the memory of her eyebrows doing that flirty thing sent a streak of rebellious desire through his veins. She was definitely not the woman for him. Stephanie was. Stephanie, with her cool blond sophistication, her sleek, contemplative moods, her quiet, I-know-what-Iwant-and-how-to-get-it finesse. She was just the partner for him. He’d thought it through carefully those last months in the Amazon, making an equitable assessment of all the reasons she was wrong for Jack and coming to the inevitable conclusion that, since he and Jack were different in fundamental ways, she was absolutely the right woman for him. Having reached that astounding and factually supported theory, he wasn’t going to get sidetracked by a passing attraction to his roommate. Even if the inclination to try that kiss one more time was operating full strength on his willpower.

The ringing of the phone saved him and he picked up the receiver with measurable relief. “Austin,” he said out of habit

“Rik?” It was Babs Brewster, her voice cultured despite the high-pitched edge of her surprise.

He stiffened. “Mrs. Brewster. How nice to hear from you again so soon.”

“What are you doing in Ms. Bernhardt’s room?”

“This is my room,” he answered, grateful for the ability to think on his feet. “What number did you dial?”

“Oh.” She clipped the single syllable as if she were cutting off the tip of a cigar. “For operator. Then I asked for Hallie Bernhardt’s room and you answered.”

“Well, you have the wrong number.”

Hallie turned, her forehead creasing with a frown.

Rik shrugged off any concern she might be feeling and listened as Babs informed him, “I do not have the wrong number. How can I have the wrong number? I asked for Hallie Bernhardt. The operator connected me with this room and you answered.”

“Probably just a computer glitch,” he said, putting a soothing smile into his voice. “This is the first time I’ve been able to use my phone all morning. Wires must be crossed somewhere in the hotel.”

“You’re positive this isn’t Hallie’s room?”

“Now that you mention it, this was her room originally. Maybe the hotel operator doesn’t realize we switched rooms.’ He lifted his shoulder in a don’tknow-what-else-I-can-say shrug, and Hallie’s eyebrows started to rise in that questioning arch he found sexy and sweet and completely unnerving. “Why don’t you try the call again, Mrs. Brewster? I can’t imagine that same misconnection would happen twice.”

“This is very strange,” Babs said, and hung up.

Rik dropped the receiver in the cradle and it rang almost immediately. “It’s for you.”

Hallie looked at him as the phone rang a second time. “What if it isn’t?” she asked. “What if she’s calling you, instead? Checking to see if you answer?”

“Why would she do that? She’s been in this room once already. She sent Dan to take a look around five minutes after she left. She’s trying to call you. Trust me.

An uneasy feeling followed Hallie to the bedside table. “Hello?” she said hesitantly into the phone receiver.

At the other end of the connection, a man cleared his throat “Either I’ve got the wrong room or my best man is having a better day than I am. Is Rik there?”

Hooking her finger through the coiled cord, she let the receiver dangle. “It’s for you.”

“She called me?” Rik barely voiced the words as he stepped over to take the phone and Hallie stepped back, swinging the receiver toward him so their fingers couldn’t brush in passing. She didn’t want him to touch her, even accidentally, and especially not in passing. She didn’t know why he’d had to be so…so male this morning. Picking her up, carrying her inside, tumbling her to the floor, kissing her….

A shaky sigh escaped her. She wasn’t going to think about that kiss. Or the weight of him pressing down on her. Or the feel of his long, hard body nestled on top of her, pushing her into the soft, but unforgiving, nap of the carpet. Rik wasn’t her type. He wasn’t even close.

Okay, so he was close enough. It had been a long time since she’d let a man touch her, kiss her, look at her the way Rik just had. And she’d liked the way he did it. And she wished he was still doing it. But this was not the time to start something she couldn’t finish. She glanced at him as he stood, holding the phone, looking so virile, so vital, so very male. Admittedly, she felt the yin and yang pull of sexual attraction. But this definitely was not the time. And Rik definitely was not the man.

“I can’t believe she’d turn right around and call my room just to satisfy her suspicions,” he said almost under his breath. Then he lifted his gaze, caught her staring, and his lips curved in a rueful smile. “What am I saying? Of course I can believe it. How such a compulsive, obsessive mother as Babs Brewster raised a woman as serenely beautiful as Stephanie—”

Putting the receiver to his ear, Rik raised his voice to an audible level and prepared for yet another Brewster onslaught. “This is Austin.”

“No, it isn’t,” Jack stated with good humor. “My pal Austin wouldn’t have a woman in his hotel room first thing in the morning without inviting his best friend up to say hello.”

“There’s a Do Not Disturb sign on my door, Jack. And it means you.”

Jack’s chuckle was steady and familiar. “Right. And if you think I’m going to believe there’s a perfectly logical…and utterly platonic…reason for a female, whose voice is suspiciously husky, to be answering the phone in your room, you’re not the defensive lineman I used to push all over the football field during practice. Fess up, Austin, you overtipped the maid so she’d screen your calls for you and try to make people think you’re some kind of lothario.”

“Voice mail would be simpler,” Rik said. “And far more efficient at screening nuisance calls like this one. What do you want, anyway?”

Jack whistled. “A little companionship. A little male bonding. A little distraction to keep me from going crazy before Saturday. Want to take the copter up for a spin?”

“Sure,” Rik agreed, knowing neither one of them was crazy enough to fly a kite in this wind, much less the helicopter. “I’ll meet you downstairs as soon as the wind velocity hits a hundred miles an hour. No sense in wasting our time on that little bit of breeze out there now. Can’t be more than forty, forty-five miles an hour. No challenge in that.”

Jack’s laughter sounded bored. “You’re right. I’m getting overly anxious to risk my neck, as usual. Who’s the girl?”

“What girl?”

“The one who answered the phone, smart aleck.”

“If I told you, you’d want to meet her. If I don’t tell you, you’ll still want to meet her. So, here’s the deal, buddy. I’m not going to tell you and you’re not going to meet her. There. I’ve simplified your life for you once again.”

“I share the embarrassing details of my life with you, Rik. It wouldn’t hurt you to open up, explore your feelings, tell your best friend who she is and where you found her.”

“Not a chance. I know you, Keaton, and exploring feelings isn’t your forte.”

“You’re just jealous because I’m getting married and will no longer have to pretend to be sensitive and open to my feelings in order to get dates. Married men are expected to be insensitive and closed off, you know.”

“No, only trophy husbands can get away with that Married men have to learn to be honest with themselves.”

A stilted pause echoed across the phone line, then Jack eased the tension with a chuckle and a change of topic. “You’re never going to believe what flew past my window about an hour ago. A dress. And then, maybe twenty minutes later, I swear I saw a pair of panty hose go by. Someone at this hotel is having a very good time…and it isn’t me. Speaking of not having a good time, Dan just dropped by to tell me you’re auditioning ‘ex-ah-tic dancers,’ as he phrased it, for Friday night’s entertainment. I think I should have some say in the selection, considering it is my party. Why should you have all the fun? I’ll just come on down to your room and make sure there’s real ‘ah’ in exotic.”

“No.” His reply sounded indisputable even to Rik himself. “And don’t get your hopes up. I’ve promised Babs that there will be nothing about your bachelor party she could possibly disapprove of.”

“Oh, gee, now Im really looking forward to Friday night. Don’t let me down, Rik. It’s my last night of freedom. I mean to make it memorable.”

Rik wanted to offer Jack some heartfelt advice. He wanted to make him see what a mistake he was about to make. He wanted to save Jack from ruining the futures of three people, including his own. “Don’t worry,” he said instead. “I’ll make sure your bachelor party is the most memorable night of your life to date. Have I ever let you down?”

“No, so that must mean you are auditioning and Til be right there.”

“Don’t bother, because I won’t let you in. I’m keeping Friday’s entertainment under wraps. No one gets a glimpse before ten o’clock Friday night.”

“Except you.”

Rik rubbed the back of his neck, weary of fencing with Jack, weary of trying to figure out a way to stop this ridiculous wedding from happening. “Except me.” His gaze connected with Hallie’s and some unrecognizable sensation pulled tight across his chest. She was watching him—at a distance that ought to have him squarely in the twenty-twenty range—and there was something intense about her. The sarong had shifted during their roll on the floor and she’d smoothed it back into place. Except the places it had settled were different than before. Looser across her breasts. Tighter around her hips. Seductive all over. The tightness in his chest moved lower.

Since that last kiss, he was looking at her with new awareness. And she was looking back. And…it wasn’t going to happen. No way. Not even if she kept staring at him as if she was starving and he was dessert. She sighed. He couldn’t hear her, of course, because Jack was talking…and talking. But he could see the rise of her breasts as she breathed in and then the slow movement of the exhale as the sigh escaped. Something was going on here that he couldn’t quite put a name to. She was thinking something. Something about him. Something she obviously wished she wasn’t thinking. And he, suddenly, didn’t want her to stop thinking about him at all. No matter what the context.

“I got you some juice,” he said impulsively, gesturing at the peace offerings he’d left on the table, forgetting totally that Jack was on the other end of the phone receiver still pressed against his ear. “You didn’t get to finish your breakfast.”

“Ah, Rik, that was so sweet of you,” Jack said after a moment’s pause. “Orange juice and a chorus line. I’ll be right down.”

Down. Rik jerked to attention. “Okay,” he said. “Sure. Come on down. You know the way.”

“I do.” Jack chuckled, this time without much humor. “I do. I do. See, I’m practicing for the big day. Don’t say it. I know what you’re thinking and we’re not going to discuss it again. I’m marrying Stephanie on Saturday and that’s that” He hung up and Rik slowly replaced the receiver, his eyes on Hallie as she peeled back the silver cover on the orange juice. Jack didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. He didn’t know that his approaching nuptials hadn’t even been in the running for first place in Rik’s thoughts, and he also didn’t know Rik had switched rooms with Hallie and was just down the hall, not three floors down. Rik hoped whoever was occupying room 1012 was friendly.

“You invited him here?” Hallie asked, her pensive expression replaced with one of annoyance. “To meet me?”

“I invited him downstairs…to the tenth floor. There is a difference.”

“It won’t take him long to figure out his mistake.”

“But it will take considerably longer to figure out exactly where I am.”

She set the plastic cup back on the table. “Why didn’t you just go down to his room? Or meet him in the lobby? You and I are only sharing a room and only by mistake. It’s not as if you have to watch over me like I’m a baby and in need of constant attention. I promise I’m not going to make another rescue attempt this morning.”

He glanced at the bra flag outside and the perfect idea clicked into place. A baby. By God, that’s what he needed. A baby. With a grin, he grabbed Hallie by the shoulders and pressed a fleeting kiss to her crinkled forehead. “I’ll be back,” he said, pushing her to arm’s length. “Don’t answer the door or the phone. Take a nap or something. Give your hangover a little TLC.”

She cocked her head to the side and narrowed a suspicious gaze on him. “What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” he said as he headed for the door. “Nothing at all.”