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Authors: Lori Foster

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' Superman punch?"

"Sort of a flying blow. A short jab with the momentum of your body behind it." His description didn't real y do the power punch justice, but Dean didn't know any other way to explain it. "After that, Grover opened the door and dragged the guy out, down the porch steps, and to the curb. He left him there.

When he came back in, he stil looked pissed. He told Lorna to go take care of Cam and Jacki."

"And she did?"

"Oh yeah. In two seconds flat, Grover and I were alone. He squatted down in front of me, and I

remember he looked damned mean, but I wasn't afraid. Not of him. He told me to ignore the man

because he was no more than a drunken idiot and that I should never listen to anything a drank said.

He told me that I was going with him, and that he'd take care of me."

"Pretty blunt," Eve said.

"Yeah, but you know, I felt better, at least for a little while. Instead of worrying about the future, I was anxious to get a chance to ask Grover about fighting."

"Did you get to say good-bye to your sisters?"

"No. We left right then. Grover told me that anything I needed, he'd get for me." Dean shook his head, remembering how fast everything had changed and how different his life became that day.

"When we got to Grover's car, that guy was stil lying in the street, and his face was al bloody."

Eve's mouth compressed. "Wel , I can't feel sorry for him. He got what he deserved."

Dean laughed without humor. "That's how I figured it, too. He was married with a child as wel .

Grover assumed he left his wife, but didn't know for sure."

"That's an awful story, Dean."

"Yeah, I know." He brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek. "Is it a story that Cam and Jacki should hear?"

"I don't know."

"There was money left to them, Eve. Plenty to last them both through col ege." Dean sat forward with his elbows on his knees. "It doesn't make any sense that they'd be strapped for cash like this."

Almost by rote, Eve rubbed a hand over his back. "My mom thinks Lorna squandered too much of

the inheritance on her own indulgences. But it's not like she's dripping in diamonds or layered in furs.

Some people just aren't very good at managing money."

Looking back at her, Dean said, "I'm good at it."

Her chin lifted. "Me, too."

The chal enge in her tone nearly made Dean smile. "I noticed that right off. Not many single women

your age could afford such a nice house."

"Oh. Wel ... thank you." Flustered, Eve frowned at him. "I think Lorna probably tried, but she went from being a thirty-six-year-old single woman to the caregiver of two babies."

"That sounds a lot like Cam talking."

"She's said it many times. Cam's defensive of Lorna, of anyone she cares about."

And that now included him.

"It's getting late." Dean said, "and I'm done strol ing down memory lane." He lifted Eve into his arms.

"Time for bed."

"What are you doing? I can walk."

"I like carrying you." As he started toward her bedroom, he nuzzled against her neck. "I can smel the scented soap and lotion from your bath. It's nice."

"It's supposed to be soothing."

"Right. I feel real... soothed."

Eve wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his shoulder. "I hate what you went

through."

"It was a long time ago. I probably shouldn't even have brought it up." He reached her bedroom and kicked the door shut behind him.

"You wanted to know if Cam or Jacki had heard the history. And Dean, I'm glad you trusted me

enough to tel me about it."

Very slowly, Dean let her slide down his body until her feet touched the floor. Hands at her waist, he

smiled down at her. "You ready for bed?"

"I need a few minutes." She went on tiptoe to kiss him, then left for the connecting bath.

Bemused by how he'd opened up to her, Dean watched her go. It didn't escape his notice that Eve

listened while he talked, contributed her own thoughts, but didn't push him when he wanted to let it

drop.

In more ways than he could count, Eve Lavon was one special lady.

While he heard water running in the bathroom, Dean went out to his car and retrieved his overnight

bag. As Eve stepped out of the bathroom, Dean waved his toothbrush at her, said, "My turn," and

closed the door on her expression of surprise.

After brushing his teeth, Dean took off his shirt and jeans. He folded them and put them in his

overnight bag, and left the bag, with his shoes, by the bathroom door.

When Dean stepped back into the darkened bedroom, he could make out Eve's form already in the

bed, under the sheet, and seemingly asleep. He sensed that having a man stay over was new to her,

so he understood her need to hide. But he wouldn't encourage it.

"I can't see a thing." He opened the curtains to let in the moonlight. "That's better." No reply. "So how did your appointment go today?"

Final y Eve peeked out at him. "Okay." Her gaze touched everywhere, lingering on the front of his boxers. "I got the job."

Dean went to the other side of the bed, lifted the sheet and stretched out along her back. Sliding one

arm under her pil ow and the other over her waist, he settled in. "That's good." He kissed her ear.

"Anything interesting?"

"A wedding."

Dean paused. "Real y? You do those, too?"

"I do it al ," she bragged.

"Hmmm." To keep her from shying away, he put one hand over her bel y and eased closer to her

until his groin nudged firmly against her bottom. "Good to know."

She snickered. "That's not what I meant."

"So what kind of wedding wil it be?"

Looking at him over her shoulder, she asked, "You're real y interested?"

Unable to help himself, Dean kissed her again. "Why wouldn't I be? You're a very interesting

woman."

Suddenly she twisted to face him. "The bride has no idea what she wants, and the groom doesn't

trust himself. They gave me free rein to do as I please."

Even in the darkness, Dean could see the glitter of excitement in her eyes. "You like that idea, huh?"

"Sure. If I can't plan the perfect wedding for me, I may as wel plan it for someone else."

Damn, having Eve this close was nice. And stimulating, but he could ignore that for the pleasure of

holding her. "So tel me the plan, honey. What do you consider the perfect wedding?"

Chapter 17

EVE couldn't believe Dean wanted to discuss this. Most men shied away from any talk of weddings

or white dresses or happily ever after.

Not Dean Conor. Nothing made him uncomfortable.

Except the love of his sisters.

Eve scooted to sit up in the bed and turn on a lamp. Dean didn't complain. He just propped his head

up on his palm and waited.

"They don't want a big wedding. They only have fifty people invited."

"What about you? How many would you want at your wedding?"

Without hesitation, because she'd already given it lots of thought, she said, "I have thirty on my side who'd need to come. But the size would depend on the groom's relatives and friends."

He grinned. "Can you imagine a bunch of guys like Gregor in tuxes?" The grin expanded into a

laugh. "I'd either have to limit it to family alone or invite a hundred tattooed warriors."

Fascinated with how easily he joined her in the planning of the fantasy wedding, Eve said, "I'm not

into tuxes. I think it's too formal."

Dean trailed one finger down the length of her leg. "And here with the way you dress so nice and are

always so polished. I figured you for a formal gal."

"On occasion I like to dress up as much as any other woman. But for a wedding, I always thought it'd

be nice to wear something comfortable and floating and soft, instead of yards of stiff lace. White, for

sure. But maybe something in ultra-soft eyelet cotton. Ankle length." She closed her eyes. "Instead of roses, I'd carry daisies and carnations. And instead of a veil, I'd weave some of those same flowers

into my hair."

While looking more at her legs than her face, Dean murmured, "Sounds real y pretty to me."

Picturing it in her mind, Eve pul ed her legs up and put her crossed arms on her knees. "Bridesmaids

could wear similar dresses in a rainbow of pastel colors. Daffodil yel ow and sea foam green and sky

blue. The groomsmen could wear beige cotton drawstring pants and soft cotton tunics and ..." She

caught herself and laughed self-consciously. "A little out there, huh?"

Voice gone husky, Dean said, "I could see it."

She made a face. "Wel , that'd be my idea, and while I like it, I wouldn't foist it off on my new clients."

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "Because weddings are very serious things to most people. I like my job and don't

want to get a rep as a hippy nutcase. And besides, that's my wedding. I'm saving it for me."

Dean said nothing for several moments, then he held a hand out to her. "Come here. Let me hold

you."

"Al right." She turned off the light and, feeling stiff and sil y, rested back down beside him. "I suppose for this couple, I'l arrange something low-key but traditional."

Dean spooned her. "Tuxes and stiff lace, huh?"

His body heat, spiced by his unique scent, surrounded her. "With the wedding march and orange

blossoms. It's what they want, just not too elaborate. I can handle it."

"Whatever you arrange, I know it'l be perfect."

Eve bit her lip. "Thank you."

His mouth touched her shoulder. "How're you feeling? Okay?"

It surprised her to realize it, but she felt like her usual self. "Actual y I feel fine."

"Good." His hand settled on her bel y. "I'm glad to hear it."

Eve hated to say anything, but she didn't see how she could avoid it. In their current close position,

she could feel his erection.

"Dean ..."

"Shhh." His fingers stroked her stomach, then stil ed. "Don't worry about it."

He had to be kidding. "But you're hard."

"Yeah, I know. It's not real y something I'd miss. But trust me, it's not a problem."

Eve turned to face him, displacing his hand so that it natural y settled on her hip. "You're sure?" She could barely make out his features in the dark, but she saw the whiteness of his teeth when he

smiled.

After stroking back her hair, he kissed her forehead. "If it was an issue, I'd go take care of it and then come back to you."

Words failed Eve. Her shock must have been obvious, because Dean laughed.

"Everyone does it, Eve."

But not everyone talked about it.

His evil grin practical y lit up the room. "You know it's true, honey. The only people who say they don't are liars and people with real y bad memories."

To hide her face, Eve curled into him. ' Let's get some sleep."

Dean laughed again. "I can't believe you're being so shy about something that's perfectly natural."

By way of an answer. Eve pretended to snore. And thankful y, for her peace of mind, Dean gave her

a squeeze, turned to his back, and pul ed her into his side. "Good night, sweetheart."

Sweetheart
. That sounded so nice coming from him.

She didn't say anything. But she did kiss his chest, close her eyes, and enjoy his closeness. Right

before she fel asleep, she had the unsettling thought that Dean Conor could be a cure for PMS.

Too bad he didn't plan to stick around indefinitely.

* * *

When Eve awoke the next morning, a weak sun struggled to shine through a haze of clouds. She sat

up, felt groggy from such a deep sleep, and looked to the other side of the bed. It was empty.

Straining her ears, she heard Dean's voice and assumed he was on the phone. After a quick trip to

the bathroom, she made her way into the great room.

Dean paced the floor with his cel phone to his ear. "It's the two tires street-side. No, not slashed.

But the valves are cut off, so they can't just be refil ed. Definitely deliberate." He lifted a thick wrist and looked at his chunky black watch. "Thanks. That'l work. See you then."

The second he hung up, Eve said, "Someone let the air out of your tires?"

He turned with a smile. "Hey babe." With only a few long strides, he reached her. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"No. I had to be up any—" A yawn took her by surprise, and he smiled while she covered her mouth.

"Sorry. I'm not quite awake yet."

"You have an appointment today?"

"In a few hours. But it usual y takes me that long to get it together."

With that familiar gentleness she now craved, he ran his knuckles along her cheek. "How can a

woman look so damn good first thing in the morning?"

When she started to speak, he put his thumb to her lips. "It was a rhetorical question, so don't bother tel ing me that your hair needs to be brushed or that your eyes are puffy."

"Al true."

Gaze warm and intimate, Dean whispered, "And you stil look good enough to eat."

Sensation went through her, making her eyes heavy. "It's way too early for you to do this to me,

especial y when I can't take advantage of it."

"Sorry." He gave her a quick perfunctory peck on the forehead. "Coffee's already made."

"Bless you." Eve hurried around him toward the kitchen, but said again, "Someone vandalized your tires?"

"A kid's prank, maybe. The car service should be here within half an hour, but I'l stil be behind by the time they get the car ready to go again."

As she poured steaming coffee into an oversized mug, Eve offered, "I can give you a lift to Cam's if

you want. I can be ready by the time the car service gets here."

Dean pul ed out a chair from the table and straddled it. "I don't want to rush you."

She didn't tel him that after such a great night's sleep, she felt ready to take on dragons. Taking a

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