“I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something sexy” Zane told her.

“You’re not picking me up,” Nicki called after him. “I’ll drive myself.”

He paused and stared at her. “I never let my date drive herself.”

“D-date?”

“Uh-huh.”

He flashed her the kind of smile designed to reduce her to a quivering mass. Damn the man—it worked.

“I’m going to show you all my best moves,” he said. “You’ll be impressed.”

Nicki watched him walk out of the room and had a really bad feeling that Zane was right. She was going to be impressed, and where exactly would that leave her?

Zane thought he could knock her socks off. Well, two could play at that game. Maybe if she surprised him, she could get the upper hand for once. Of course, what she would do with it once she had it was another question entirely!

MILLS & BOON

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Dear Reader,

As you ski into the holiday season, be sure to pick up the latest batch of Silhouette Special Edition romances. Featured this month is Annette Broadrick’s latest miniseries, SECRET SISTERS, about family found after years of separation. The first book in this series is Man in the Mist (#1576), which Annette describes as “…definitely a challenge to write.” About her main characters, Annette says, “Greg, the wounded lion hero—you know the type—gave me and the heroine a very hard time. But we refused to be intimidated and, well, you’ll see what happened!”

You’ll adore this month’s READERS’ RING pick, A Little Bit Pregnant (SE#1573), which is an emotional best-friends-turned-lovers tale by reader favorite Susan Mallery. Her Montana Millionaire (SE#1574) by Crystal Green is part of the popular series MONTANA MAVERICKS: THE KINGSLEYS. Here, a beautiful socialite dazzles the socks off a dashing single dad, but gets her own lesson in love. Nikki Benjamin brings us the exciting conclusion of the baby-focused miniseries MANHATTAN MULTIPLES, with Prince of the City (SE#1575). Two willful individuals, who were lovers in the past, have become bitter enemies. Will they find their way back to each other?

Peggy Webb tantalizes our romantic taste buds with The Christmas Feast (SE#1577), in which a young woman returns home for Christmas, but doesn’t bargain on meeting a man who steals her heart. And don’t miss A Mother’s Reflection (SE#1578), Elissa Ambrose’s powerful tale of finding long-lost family…and true love.

These six stories will enrich your hearts and add some spice to your holiday season. Next month, stay tuned for more page-turning and provocative romances from Silhouette Special Edition.

Happy reading!

Gail Chasan

Senior Editor

A Little Bit Pregnant

Susan Mallery

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my real-life Nicki

SUSAN MALLERY

is the bestselling and award-winning author of over fifty books for Harlequin and Silhouette Books. She makes her home in the Pacific Northwest with her handsome prince of a husband and her two adorable-but-not-bright cats.

Dear Reader,

Like most Silhouette authors, I’m not just a writer of romances, I’m also a fan. As a reader, I’ve enjoyed the Silhouette Special Edition READERS’ RING books very much and I’m delighted to have a book of mine as part of the collection.

A Little Bit Pregnant is one of those special books that appeared fully formed in my writer’s brain. One minute I was searching for a story for Zane, a character from Shelter in a Soldier’s Arms (SSE #1400), and the next I knew exactly what was going to happen.

Nicki and Zane have a unique relationship. Not just as best friends, but also as soul mates. However, the journey from friends to lovers can be hazardous at best. There is much on the line—if the romantic relationship goes badly, one can lose much more than just a significant other. But if the relationship goes well…is there any greater joy than marrying one’s best friend?

I hope you’ll enjoy Nicki and Zane’s story. Here’s to happy endings for us all.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Discussion Questions

Chapter One

“Nicki, I’m desperate. You have to help me.”

Nicole Beauman heard the impassioned plea over her headset. The words gave her a measure of satisfaction, but weren’t impressive enough to make her do much more than blink.

“I’m filing my nails, Zane,” she said. “Filing my nails and yawning. That’s how impressed I am.”

Swearing filled her ears. Despite the seven-hundred-plus miles between her and Zane Rankin, the sound was crystal clear. Modern technology was really amazing.

“My butt is hanging in the wind,” Zane told her. “Dammit, Nicki, do something.”

He wasn’t exactly begging, but it was close enough. Sighing softly, she set down her nail file and glanced at the half dozen monitors on the console.

She’d tapped into the impressive security system of the Silicon Valley computer firm Zane was currently trying to break into. Nearly sixty camera positions showed everything from the six entrances to the lobby to the “sensitive” areas. All Nicki has to do was push a couple of buttons to get the view of her choice.

She watched Zane type frantically on a small, portable keyboard that should have unlocked the side door. He knew the sequence of codes to enter, but sometimes these things were tricky, and required a woman’s touch.

“Hit clear,” she told him.

He nodded, pushing a single key, then waited.

She used her keyboard to reenter the codes. When nothing happened, she used a backdoor entry into the security system and unlocked it from the inside. Zane glanced toward the camera monitoring his position and gave her a thumbs-up.

“You’re the best,” he murmured.

“You say that now,” she told him. “But yesterday you carefully explained to me how you didn’t need my help on this job. You said you were perfectly capable of doing it all on your own.”

“I am.”

“Uh-huh.”

She switched camera positions and saw the security guards heading down the main corridor.

“Then you don’t need me to tell you that you’re about to have a close encounter with your hosts, right?”

Through the grainy security camera she saw Zane freeze. He glanced up and down the long hallway, then ducked into a room. Five seconds later, the security guards turned the corner and walked past the closed door.

“You’re clear,” she said when they were out of sight. “And if you have this covered, I’m going to head home.”

There was a heavy sigh that originated in the northern California storeroom and made its way to her headset in Seattle.

“What do you want from me?” he asked in resignation.

Nicki grinned at her victory. “Money, but as you’re not here to deliver, I’ll take an apology.”

Zane stepped into the hallway and faced the security camera. “You’re the best,” he said in a tone of long suffering. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

She smiled. “You left out the W word.”

“Wrong. I was wrong. Okay? Now will you get me into the research lab?”

“Of course.” She could afford to be gracious in her victory. “It’s on the second floor. Take the back stairs and wait on the landing until I give you the all clear.”

Five minutes later he was at the door to the research lab. Nicki coaxed the heavy double doors into releasing, then talked Zane through the laser sensors. The safe, hidden in the supply closet, wasn’t connected to the main computer system, so she couldn’t help with that, but she did temporarily disable the smoke detectors in the lab so the charred smell from the explosion wouldn’t set them off.

Zane ducked out of the supply closet and shut the door. Two seconds later there was a thud-bang and the door shuddered. He hurried back inside, only to reemerge with a small black box in his hand.

“Got it,” he said, slipping the unit into his backpack. “Now get me out of here.”

“I should let you get caught, just to teach you a lesson.”

He glanced at the camera and grinned. “But you won’t.”

He was right, she thought as she located the guards. “Okay. Take the north stairs to the main floor. I’ll unlock the front door before you get there. Just breeze on through.”

When he was safely speeding away from the building, she reset the security system, cleared the fire alarms and turned them back on, then disconnected from their computer. There was no way to disguise the fact that someone had broken in, but they wouldn’t trace the entry back to her. She’d made sure to cover her tracks.

Of course at about nine-fifteen the following morning Zane’s partner, Jeff Ritter, was going to review the computer logs for the previous twenty-four hours and find lots of unauthorized searches, entries and activity. To say he would be unamused was putting it mildly. Nicki wondered if there would be an actual explosion of tempers or just fireworks.

“I owe you big time.”

Zane’s voice came over her headset.

“I know,” she told him as she shut down her computer.

He chuckled. “Want me to bring in doughnuts in the morning?”

“That hardly makes up for it, but all right. Don’t eat all the glazed this time.”

“Promise.”

“Ha.”

She knew exactly what his doughnut promises meant. She would be lucky to have a glazed crumb to nibble on.

“I’m heading home,” she told him.

“Drive safely. And Nicki?”

“Yes?”

“You’re the best.”

“I know. Night, Zane.”

She smiled as she disconnected their call and dropped her headset onto her console.

“I saved you one,” Zane said the following morning as he strolled into Nicki’s office and placed a glazed doughnut on her desk.

She glanced from it to him and wondered why she’d bothered with coffee. There was no need for caffeine to get her body jump-started—not when she could watch Zane’s easy stride and casual smile. The combination always sent her pulse to racing, her blood to boiling and her heart to fluttering. Embarrassing but true.

Being around Zane was nearly as much of a workout as an aerobics class. One of these days she would actually calculate the calorie burn rate. Now if only keeping her crush a secret was a form of strength training, she would be fit enough to kayak around the world.

“What time did you get back last night?” she asked.

“The flight was about ninety minutes. I was sliding into bed shortly before one.” He settled on the chair next to her desk and grinned. “Slept like a baby.”

“What? No new chickie keeping the sheets warm?”

“Not this week. I need to catch up on my beauty sleep.”

Nicki had seen Zane on zero sleep and happened to know he was still way too pretty for her comfort zone. Tall, lean, handsome, with dark hair and deep-set eyes that held too many secrets, he could have made his fortune on the soaps as the hunk of the month.

He was one of those men women found irresistible. While she prided herself on being unique, in this case she was just one of the crowd. The only difference between her and every other woman mooning over Zane’s broad shoulders and high, tight fanny was she kept her foolish dreams to herself. He didn’t date women with an IQ larger than their bust measurement and she’d been blessed with plenty of smarts. Unfortunately all the brains in the world didn’t seem to be an antidote for his particular brand of charm.

“What about you?” he asked, snagging her cup of coffee and taking a sip. “Did Brad wait up for you?”

She grabbed her mug back. “His name is Boyd and no, I didn’t see him last night.” She hadn’t been seeing much of Boyd at all, lately, but she wasn’t going to share that with Zane.

Zane raised his eyebrows. “Why not? All that computer jargon getting boring? Seriously, Nicki, don’t you get tired of the guy talking in binary code?”

“Boyd isn’t a programmer. He’s an electrical engineer who—” She broke off in midsentence and shook her head. “Why do I bother? You make fun of the men in my life because you’re embarrassed about the women you date. I mean what about Julie?”

Zane chuckled. “Embarrassed? Julie is a former Miss Apple Festival who is studying very hard to be a dental hygienist.”

“Right. She’s in year four of a nine-month program.”

“Math isn’t her thing.”

“She’s going to clean teeth. How much math could there be? What? She can’t count high enough to know how many teeth there actually are in someone’s mouth?”

“She’s gorgeous.”

“She’s an idiot. Don’t you ever want to have a conversation with these women? I mean when the sex is over for the evening, then what?”

He winked. “I go home and sleep. Besides, when I want to have a conversation with a woman, I come see you.”

“How flattering.” The good old female best friend, Nicki thought with a combination of chagrin and humor. That was her.

“I’m telling you, Nicki, let go of the smart guy thing,” he said. “Find some stud and let him have his way with you.”

“No, thanks.”

“Why not? You’re pretty enough.”

“How flattering. Pretty enough? Pretty enough to get a brainless fool who thinks with his biceps? Why would I want to?”

“For the fun.”

“I’m into substance, but thanks for the offer.”

She would never understand Zane’s casual attitude toward the opposite sex. Didn’t he want to settle down? But she already knew the answer to that question. In the two years she’d worked for him, she’d never seen Zane get involved with anyone for more than a few weeks. There was always a new airhead on his arm and he didn’t seem to care that they were interchangeable.

For her part, she gravitated toward serious men who used their brains. Unfortunately none of them had been appealing enough to get her over her Zane crush. Biceps-Man would be a change, if nothing else.

Oh, like that was going to happen.

“I need to like the guy before I have sex,” she said. “Call me old-fashioned, but it’s true.”

“Fascinating information,” Jeff Ritter said as he walked into her office. “Thanks for sharing, but we have more pressing matters.”

Nicki winced silently. If she could have picked some part of the conversation for her other boss to overhear, it wouldn’t have been that.

Jeff stalked into the glass-enclosed office and slammed the door shut behind him. Nicki braced herself for the explosion while Zane seemed singularly unimpressed. He remained slumped in the chair next to her desk.

“What’s up?” he asked.

Jeff tossed him a folder. “What the hell were you thinking? Dammit, Zane, you could have told me what you were going to do.”

Zane flipped through the pages of the computer activity report. “You would have told me not to. Technically we’re partners and you can’t order me around, but you would have tried to convince me it was a bad idea.”

Jeff glared at him. “It was a bad idea. Do you have any idea how many laws you broke last night.”

Nicki figured she might as well join the fray. “I have the actual count, if you’d like it.”

Jeff turned his laserlike stare on her. “You’re in enough trouble already.”

She sighed. “I know. But just for the breaking and entering, and turning off the security system. And the fire alarms.” She considered the number. “Okay, so it was a lot of laws.”

Zane shot her a grin. She held in a smile. Jeff wasn’t amused.

“I’m glad you two think this is so damn funny, but I don’t. Our company has a reputation to uphold. We don’t go around breaking the law for our own purposes.”

Zane raised his eyebrows. Jeff shoved his hands in his pockets. “Only under extreme circumstances,” he amended.

“I was helping out a friend,” Zane said.

Jeff’s gazed narrowed. “You should have told me what you were going to do.”

“I couldn’t. If it went bad, I didn’t want you or anyone in the company implicated.”

“Nicki knew,” Jeff said.

“Sure, but she’d never say anything.”

Zane’s casual acceptance of her loyalty was both gratifying and annoying. She felt like the faithful family retainer…or a favorite dog.

“You could have gotten her in a lot of trouble,” Jeff said.

For the first time since swaggering into her office, Zane actually squirmed.

“I couldn’t have done it without her,” he said.

“That’s right,” she told Jeff. “Zane’s pretty useless.”

Now they were both glaring at her. She shrugged.

Jeff started to speak, but Zane cut him off. “My friend had been working two years on the prototype. These guys stole it and he wanted it back. I said I’d help him. I had to, Jeff. I owed him.”

Nicki knew a few details about Zane’s background. He’d been in the Marines where he’d done a lot of things he didn’t talk about. Jeff had the same sort of background. Several years ago the two of them had met up and started the company.

Neither of them talked about their past, nor did they ever sit around telling war stories. But every now and then, something came out. A new piece of information, a whisper of a truth.

It was there now—in the tone of Zane’s voice as he said those three words.

I owed him.

She didn’t know what they meant, but Jeff did. Instead of complaining or continuing the questioning, he simply nodded.

“Next time, run it past me, okay?”

Zane rose and nodded. “Promise.”

He walked out of the office.

Nicki watched him go. How had Zane owed the guy? Had he saved his life or something? She knew there was no point in asking. Zane was a master at avoiding topics he didn’t want to talk about.

Jeff turned his attention back to her. “You could at least pretend to be worried that I’m going to fire you.”

“You can’t. Not over this. I work for Zane and he needed my help. My job is to provide backup, not to pass judgment on what he’s doing.”

Jeff sighed. “You’re too smart for your own good.”

“You like that I’m smart.”

“Yeah, well, you’re okay. When you’re not being a pain.”

She grinned. “Is Zane in trouble? Are you going to punish him? Can I watch?”

One corner of Jeff’s mouth twitched. “You two deserve each other. I have a meeting with a client. Someone who’s going to pay us for protecting him and his family.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

She turned back to her computer. Zane walked by and stuck his head in her office. “How about lunch? Mexican. You can buy.”

“I want Chinese and this one is on you, bucko.”

He shook his head. “All right. But only because you’re crabby. Brad must not be putting out this week.”

“His name is Boyd,” she yelled after him.

“Whatever,” he called as he headed down the hall.

She considered chasing after him, but then what? It wasn’t polite to run down her boss.

Nicki turned in her wheelchair and rolled over to the file cabinet under the window. As she flipped through the folders, she told herself that she simply had to get over her crush and pronto. Boyd was a perfectly nice guy, and if not for her weakness for Zane, she might have fallen in love with him. That was what she wanted—to have one great man in her life, to settle down, get married, do the kid thing.

But until she found a way to get over Zane, she was stuck in limbo—wanting what she couldn’t have and having what she didn’t want.

“The Seahawks by three,” Zane said over a plate of Kung Pao Beef and rice.

Nicki grinned. “You lead with your chin. You should know better. I’ll take those three points, and listen to you whine come Monday morning.”

She noted the information on a sheet of paper that listed all the pro football games for the weekend.

Zane knew taking the Seahawks wasn’t smart, but he couldn’t help rooting for the home team. Nicki had no such loyalty. She studied stats, read the sports section and made her choices based on abilities, injuries and who was on a winning streak. Every now and then she took a team because she liked their uniforms, but not often. What killed him was even when she made her choices on something as stupid as team colors, she often won. They were only two weeks into the regulation season and she was already up by three games.

They didn’t bet money. Instead they keep a running total and whoever had the most wins at the end of the season owed the loser a day of slave labor. The previous season he’d had big plans to make her cook, stocking his freezer with homemade dinners. Instead he’d spent nearly eight hours washing and waxing her van. Afterwards, he’d been sore for three days.

“I’m going to have you paint my living room,” she said dreamily as she wrote down the rest of their picks. “I’m thinking of a color-wash treatment that’s going to take at least three coats of paint.”

He shook his head. “Not this time, sweet pea. You’re going to be cooking your heart out.”

“That’s what you said last year. Do we remember what happened instead?”

“I’d rather not.”

She grinned. “You’ve got to start listening to the experts, Zane. They usually know who’s going to win the games.”

“That’s cheating.”

“No, that’s beating your fanny.”

She grinned as she spoke. Laughter danced in her green eyes. He smiled back.

“You’re smart for a girl.”

She picked up her fork and leaned forward. “You left out pretty. Earlier you said I was pretty enough to get some macho, brainless guy with huge muscles.”

He studied her heart-shaped face. With big eyes and a full, sensual mouth, she was more than pretty. Long auburn curls cascaded down her back. Every swaying movement begged a man to run his fingers through them. Put all that on a body that, while not as lush as the women he dated, had all the right curves in exactly the right places and she was a serious contender.

“You’re okay,” he said.

She laughed. “Wait. I want to pause and savor this moment for as long as possible. The wildly extravagant compliment has gone to my head.”

He pointed his fork at her. “Come on, Nicki. You know you’re attractive. Half the guys in this place can’t take their eyes off you.”

“Only half?” She glanced around. “I suppose that’s something.”

He followed her gaze and saw a couple of businessmen in tailored suits giving her the once-over. There were three college guys in the corner. They practically had their mouths hanging open.

“I rest my case,” he said.

“Their attention will last for a long as it takes us to finish our meal and head for the door.”

He frowned. “Because of the chair?”

She shrugged. “Well, duh. What do you think?”

“That you’re crazy. They’re not going to care.”

Nicki being in a wheelchair meant that she was faster than him and more likely to run him over if she was annoyed. But it didn’t make her any less attractive.

“It doesn’t bother Brad,” he said.

“Boyd. And you’re right. It doesn’t. But he’s into substance.”

“I’m not and it doesn’t bother me.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s because we’re friends. You wouldn’t date a woman in a wheelchair.”

He considered the statement. “I would if she had really big breasts.”

Nicki shook her head. “I don’t know if I should thank you or stab you with my knife.”

“Technically you work for me. If you tried to stab me it would reflect poorly on your next evaluation.”

“You drive me crazy.”

He grinned. “I know. Isn’t it great?”

When they’d finished lunch and she’d badgered him into paying, he stood and she pushed back from the table. Zane paused to watch the men in the restaurant.

None of them had noticed the sleek wheelchair. Nicki had hers specially made by a guy in California. It was lightweight, made to fit her slender body and more low-profile than most.

The college guys exchanged a look of surprise, shrugged and continued to stare. One of the businessmen turned away, but the other looked as if his eyes were about to fall out. Just as he’d thought. Most of them didn’t care.

He followed her into the parking lot. She hit the remote on her key chain, which activated the special motor installed in back. The rear doors of the van opened and a ramp lowered. Nicki rolled onto it and rose to level with the back of the vehicle. While he slid into the passenger side, she secured the back doors and moved in behind the steering wheel. Special grooves locked her chair into place and a custom-built harness acted as a seat belt. She started the engine.

“They were still looking,” he said conversationally.

“I’m not,” she told him.

“Brad isn’t all that.”

She sighed. “Boyd, Zane. His name is Boyd. You’ll be meeting him in a couple of nights at the Morgans’ party. Please try to remember his name by then.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Who are you bringing? Miss Apple Festival?”

He shrugged. Currently he was between women. Oddly enough, he was in no hurry to find a new one, either. He glanced at Nicki. The two of them had never been uninvolved at the same time. Not that he would ask her out if they were. Nicki was…

He glanced out the window. Nicki was special. She mattered to him and he made it a rule to never get involved with anyone fitting that description. Not again.

Chapter Two

“So the guy says, ‘It’s only a parrot.’” Rob, one of the burly bodyguards employed by the company laughed as he finished telling his joke.

Nicki rolled her eyes and smiled. Rob loved telling jokes nearly as much as he loved puns. At times conversations with him were physically painful as he went from pun to pun.

“You’re not sweating, Nicki,” Ted called. “I want to see you sweat.”

“Bite me,” Nicki yelled back as she picked up the pace on the recumbent bike. Her thigh muscles ached, but in a good way. As for sweat, there was a river of it pouring down her back.

She hated aerobics. Oh sure, they were good for her heart and probably added years to her life, but she loathed them with a cheerful intensity that never faded. Unlike Zane, who thought all forms of physical activity were pure play.

Speaking of which, he chose that moment to stroll into the company gym. The bodyguards called out a greeting. Nicki ignored him because looking at him would spike her blood pressure and set off alarms.

But as he approached, she couldn’t resist a quick peek at his long bare legs, the loose gym shorts and cutoff T-shirt that exposed way too much flat, sculpted tummy. The man had a serious body.

She would have accepted that with good grace if she’d been able to study it impersonally. As if he were nothing more than fine art. Very fine art. But what she resented most was her visceral reaction to that A+ set of abs. She wanted. Yup, physical cravings set in that made the PMS need for chocolate seem wimpy by comparison.

“Hey,” he said as he slumped down into her wheelchair. “You’re not sweating.”

“That’s what I said,” Ted told him as he straightened and grabbed a towel. “The girl’s loafing.”

“The woman is busting her butt,” Nicki complained.

Zane ignored her. “I called you last night and you were out. How’s Brad?”

His hips were narrow enough to allow him to easily fit on her custom seat, but his legs were miles too long. He stretched them out in front of him and rested his heels on the hardwood floor.

“Boyd is doing great,” she said. “Thanks for asking. But I didn’t see him last night.”

“So where were you?”

“So why do you get to know?”

He grinned. “Because I’m fifteen kinds of charming and you adore me.”

He had that one nailed.

“I was at the bookstore.”

“Why not with your computer geek?”

“He’s in the middle of a big project right now.”

Zane looked anything but convinced. “Sure he is. You’re bored. Admit. You think he’s tedious.”

“I think you’re overcompensating because of personal inadequacy.”

Rob and Ted finished their workouts and left. Zane glanced at the timer on her bike’s program. “Your mom sent me cookies.”

“She mentioned she was going to.”

Nicki found a certain amount of irony in the fact that her parents were nearly as taken with Zane as she was. Maybe it was something genetic. A weakness in the Beauman family tree.

“So when are they coming up for a visit?” he asked.

“Probably not until the holidays. They’re taking off for a cruise in Australia and New Zealand at the end of the month. It’s fall here, but spring down under.”

“You need to have me over for dinner while they’re here. I like your folks.”

“Me, too.”

He grinned.

What the man could do to her with just a smile.

“Is their remodeling finished?” he asked.

“Just about. Mom promised the guest room would be done in time for my next visit.”

Nicki had been a change-of-life baby and a surprise for a couple who had given up hope of ever having a child. As such, she’d been doted on from birth. Despite their devotion, they’d been ready to retire as she finished college. They’d left Seattle for the sunny warmth of Tucson, which gave her a good excuse to flee the incessant rain every winter.

“Maybe I’ll swing down and visit them sometime,” he said.

“They’d like that.”

Her mother especially. While Muriel Beauman would have adored Zane for his own sake, she had a special place in her heart for him because of how he treated her daughter. When her parents had met Zane, her mother had made it a point to tell Nicki that he didn’t seem to notice she was in a wheelchair.

Nicki knew that was true. Zane’s acceptance was complete. Sometimes she consoled herself that his lack of interest in her had nothing to do with her problems with her legs. Nope, it was her pesky brain getting in the way.

The timer on her bike beeped. Nicki slowed, then stopped and wiped the sweat from her face. Her muscles were comfortably tired, but her workout was just beginning.

Still in the wheelchair, Zane moved next to the bike. “Climb on,” he said as he wrapped one arm around her waist.

She relaxed as he pulled her onto his lap and “drove” her to the weight machines clustered at the far end of the room. This was a familiar part of their routine—one she tried not to get excited about. Yeah, he had his arm around her. Yeah, it felt good. So what?

She slid from Zane’s lap to the bench. He locked the wheelchair in place and rose.

While she hooked up the elaborate pulley system that allowed her to strengthen her leg muscles without putting too much weight on them, he moved to the treadmill where he punched in his favorite program. The machine started at a warm-up pace that would send most people into cardiac arrest. Zane wouldn’t even begin breathing hard until mile three.

She might hate exercise, Nicki thought as she began the leg lifts designed by a physical therapist to keep her lower body toned and flexible, but there were compensations. One was a boss who’d had no problem adding a couple of pieces of equipment to the company gym so she could work out there as well. The other was watching Zane move.

Mirrors covered all four walls so wherever she turned, she saw front and back views of the man. The machine picked up the pace and he eased from a jog into a full-out run. Long, lean muscles bunched and released with nearly balletlike grace. Nicki mentally smacked herself upside the head and returned her attention to her own workout.

“Jeff and I are having a planning meeting later today,” Zane called to her. “Any preferences?”

Employees were often allowed to request assignments so those with families could stay close to home and those without could indulge their wanderlust.

“I’d like to winter in Hawaii,” Nicki told him.

He grinned. “I don’t think we have any clients there.”

“Then we should get some. Maybe a pro football player or a surfing champion.”

“Maybe a suntan lotion model.”

Nicki sniffed. “Not at all my style.”

She released the pulleys and turned so her legs hung off the bench. When she was in position, she began to work her upper body.

Strong muscles were essential for a number of reasons. Not only did they help her maneuver and stay fast in her chair, but well-toned arms burned more calories. She might be able to keep in shape with her workouts, but she didn’t have the ability to walk from place to place during the day. If she wasn’t careful to balance her exercise with her lifestyle, she could pile on five pounds in the time it took most people to sneeze. On her smallish frame, that was hardly attractive. So she did the exercise thing and told herself it was like taking a really sweaty vitamin.

Zane finished his five-mile run and stepped off the treadmill. As she shifted from the bench to her wheelchair, he nodded to the free weights and barbells.

“Want me to spot you on the chest press?” he asked.

Nicki eyed the equipment in question. Did she want to lay on a bench, Zane poised at her head, ready to rescue her if she got into trouble as she raised and lowered a too-heavy weight? The view was spectacular—she could see all of him from knee to chin—but it came at a price. Namely unfulfilled fantasies.

“I’ll pass,” she said as she headed for the women’s locker room and the showers. “But thanks.”

“No problem.”

He turned to the equipment and began his own weight training. Nicki didn’t want to stick around. She’d seen the show countless times. If only she could be like Zane, she thought as she rolled to her locker. If only she could be happy with them just being friends and never consider any other possibilities. If only he didn’t bother her so much.

She needed a plan. Or a program. Or an anti-Zane patch. Barring that, she had to find a way to clear her head. Boyd might not be the love of her life, but what if the next guy was? Would she miss her opportunity because she was hung up on Zane? Wouldn’t that be a tragedy?

She was going to have to find a way to lick this problem once and for all, even if it meant something as drastic as finding a new job.

“This client is interesting,” Jeff said as he tossed Zane a folder.

Zane picked it up and flipped through the pages. “An Italian banker?” He grinned. “Okay. I’ll take that one.”

Jeff didn’t look surprised. “You think you’re going to get a trip to Italy out of this.”

“Sure.”

Jeff shook his head and passed over two more folders. “Middle Eastern oil executives.”

“A whole lot less fun,” Zane muttered as he looked through their files. “Definitely more work.”

Although he wouldn’t mind a good distraction—maybe a kidnapping or hostage situation. He felt restless and on edge and he couldn’t say why.

“Westron has had a couple of nasty letters delivered to his house,” Jeff said. “He annoyed the wrong group of people.”

“Death threats?” Zane asked.

“Daily. He’s working with local police, but he wants us to come up with a plan to protect the family he has here in the States.”

Zane made a few notes in the margin. When the company first started, he and Jeff had shared the work equally. In the past couple of years Jeff had taken over more administrative and sales duties, leaving much of the field work to Zane. The switch had come about because of Jeff’s marriage to a single mom and the subsequent birth of his son. Little Michael was nearly eighteen months old.

“How’s Ashley?” he asked.

Jeff’s expression softened as he smiled. “Great. She’s still getting morning sickness, but if this pregnancy is like the last one, it should pass in a few more weeks.”

He continued talking, but Zane found himself unable to listen. Instead he fought against ghosts from the past, and the pain they brought with him.

He was happy for his friend, he told himself. As for his own life, it had turned out the way it had and there was not a damn thing he could do about it. Once he’d thought he could have a normal life, then he’d found out he was wrong. End of story.

He returned his attention to his partner’s conversation and made notes on the various files. When they were finished, he headed for Nicki’s office and found her on the phone.

He leaned against the door frame and waited as she chewed out whoever had annoyed her. Watching Nicki mad was a kick.

“You can’t be serious,” she said, using both hands to gesture, even though the person on the other end of her headset couldn’t see. “If I’d wanted a cheap piece of crap, that’s what I would have ordered. Instead I ordered an expensive transmitter that was supposed to have a two-mile radius. The one I received has a radius of about three hundred yards. Now I’m not a math person, but even I can figure out that’s not close to one mile let alone two. So what are you going to do about this?”

She listened, sighed impatiently, then rolled her eyes. Her frustration made him grin. Nicki had a lot of great qualities but suffering fools gladly wasn’t one of them.

He watched the fire flashing in her eyes and the way her mouth moved as she spoke. As always, he acknowledged her beauty with the same emotional attachment he had to the weather. It was a part of his world. He lived with it, prepared for it when he remembered and had absolutely no control over it. So mostly he ignored it.

“You’d better credit me the shipping cost,” she muttered. “Yeah, I know. This is your last chance. One more screwup like this and I’m taking my size-able budget elsewhere. Uh-huh.” She listened for another couple of seconds, then said goodbye and hung up.

She glanced at Zane. “He actually had the nerve to tell me to have a nice day. My day was doing great right up until I found out about the messed-up order. People can be so annoying.”

“Maybe it’s not people. Maybe it’s you.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Easy for you to say. You delegate all the annoying stuff to me.”

“One of the perks of the job.” He waved a folder. “I have some exciting news.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Sure you do.”

“Nicki. I’m not kidding. But I’m not going to tell you until I see the proper level of enthusiasm.”

She drew in a breath and clutched both hands to her chest. “Oh, Zane. Exciting news? I just can’t wait.” Her voice was a falsely high pitch that could have called dogs from three states away. “Wait. I’m all flustered. Let me sit down and recover for a second.”

She fluttered her fingers and quivered in her chair.

He chuckled, then sank into the seat by her desk. “It’s not the world that’s annoying,” he told her. “It’s you.”

“Sell it somewhere else. What have you got?”

He handed her the top folder. “New client. An Italian banker. I’m going to be talking to him about setting up a better security plan for his family.”

Nicki’s green eyes widened. “Will you be visiting him yourself?”

“I just may. And if I do, I’ll need an assistant.”

She flipped through the pages and smiled. “I love Italy. It’s so beautiful and do they know how to make wine or what? I haven’t been in years.”

“Did you go with your folks?”

“When I was in high school. Then I went with a bunch of friends while I was in college.”

“With a guy?”

She raised her eyebrows. “There might have been a man or two in the group. I simply can’t remember.”

“Liar.”

“Are you inquiring about my sex life?”

“Absolutely.”

She pretended to be shocked. “A lady never kisses and tells.”

“I’m not interested in the kissing. Do it anywhere interesting?”

“I’m not into public displays of affection, thank you very much.” She closed the folder. “My big complaint is that despite promises to the contrary, not one man in Italy pinched my butt.”

He shook his head. “Did you ever think it might have something to do with you being in a wheelchair? It’s not exactly easy to pinch when the butt in question is planted on a seat. You should have worn your braces a couple of days and given the guys a chance.”

“Good point. Honestly, I never thought it would be worth the effort.”

“That’s because you haven’t had your butt pinched by a professional.”

“Are you offering?”

“It’s not my fantasy, but I could ask around if you’d like.”

Nicki pushed the folder toward him. “You are too weird for words. Yes, if asked, I will accompany you to Italy. Now get out of here. Unlike the rest of you, I have actual work that needs to be done.”

The Friday morning planning meeting lasted over two hours. As per the usual schedule, the least pressing clients were discussed first, leaving the most time for those with the largest and most imminent problems.

Oil executives stationed in the Middle East should know better than to make political statements, Nicki thought as she listened to Jeff outline the situation. There had been daily threats against George Westron and his family ever since he’d told an AP reporter that most of the area’s problems could be solved if people simply practiced Christian values.

But the man being an idiot didn’t mean he should be killed by a car bomb or that his family should suffer, either.

Jeff passed Nicki copies of the threats left on the Westron’s front porch. She scanned the block letters taken from various magazines and newspapers, then glued into words and sentences.

“Obviously there is an entire international task force working on that,” he told her. “But see what you can do.”

Nicki nodded. She wasn’t an expert, but she had contacts who were. People outside of mainstream law enforcement. Sometimes she got lucky. She also noted a list of information Jeff wanted cross-referenced.

“There are two children,” Zane said, when Jeff had finished. “Twelve and ten.”

Nicki winced. She hated when kids were in danger. “Tell me they’re not still going to school.”

He nodded. “It’s private. We have two guys with them the entire day.”

She shook her head. While she understood the need to keep kids’ lives as normal as possible, the knowledge that they were out in the open, exposed put a knot in her stomach.

Zane didn’t look any happier than she felt. He shrugged. “I sent in Mathews and Gorson.”

Some of her tension eased. Those two were great with kids and seemed to have a sixth sense about danger. Zane would have chosen them for that reason. He sweated when kids were in danger, too. Jeff worried, but he had kids of his own so she expected it. The same level of concern from Zane always left her weak in the knees…figuratively and literally.

She reminded herself she should be looking for reasons not to like Zane, not more excuses to fall harder for the guy. But it was difficult to dislike him. He was too close to perfect for her comfort.

Jeff finished up his report and asked for questions. When there weren’t any, he reminded them that there was a new batch of bodyguards starting training on Monday, so they needed to stay sharp.

Nicki knew that new recruits were often ambushed while walking through the halls of the company. Once a fake terrorism team had invaded and taken hostages. She’d been caught in a standoff for nearly a half hour, which wouldn’t have been a problem if she hadn’t been on her way to the bathroom in the first place. She made a mental note to be more careful about her water consumption during the next few weeks.

Brenda, Jeff’s fifty-something assistant, rose and glared at her boss. “I can’t believe you didn’t consider my application. Again.”

Zane glanced at Nicki and grinned. “Here we go,” he murmured.

Brenda’s desire to be a real live spy was an ongoing source of humor in the office.

Jeff rose and patted her on the arm. “Brenda, I can’t risk losing you. Not only would your husband kill me, but the office would fall apart. You’re too valuable for field work.”

“That’s a crock and you know it,” she said, following him from the room. “Come on, Jeff. Just give me a chance.”

Nicki watched her go. “I’m always torn,” she admitted to Zane as the rest of the staff filed out of the conference room. “On the one hand I know Jeff is right—Brenda does keep things running smoothly. But on the other hand, she should be allowed to live up to her potential.”

“She would never pass the physical.”

“Fine. Then let her take it and fail. At least she would have had the chance.”

Zane didn’t look convinced, which made Nicki suspicious. “You and Jeff are afraid she will pass and then you’d have to let her into the program. You know she’d kick butt once she was accepted.”

“You’re a troublemaker.”

“I prefer to think of myself as a rebel. Sort of like a freedom fighter for people who are being oppressed by those in power. Those who have never—”

The phone on the table buzzed. “Nicki, you have a call on line three.”

“Thank God,” Zane muttered. “I couldn’t stand another one of those speeches on the oppressed.”

“I’m not finished with you,” she said as she picked up the receiver.”

“This is Nicki,” she said, then felt her mood deflate when she heard Boyd’s voice. He wasn’t the kind of guy who checked in during the day “just because.” Which meant there was only one reason he was calling.

“I’m really sorry I can’t make it tonight,” he told her. “But with Stan quitting, the project is at risk. I don’t want it to fall behind.”

He went on about some particularly complex problem that made no sense to her after the first three words. When he paused for breath, she spoke up.

“It’s okay, Boyd. Tonight is just a party. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll call you in a few days,” he said. “After the weekend.” He seemed to realize that most couples who were dating actually spent time together on weekends and quickly added, “I have to work.”

“I guessed that. It’s fine.”

More than fine, she thought sadly as she hung up. She didn’t feel regret or sadness or anything. For the past couple of weeks she’d been telling herself it was time to end things with Boyd. Whatever potential had been there had obviously been lost. This conversation told her it was past time to make a clean break.

“That’s the thing,” Zane said as he leaned toward her. “Guys like Brad just don’t appreciate women. Computer chips and binary code are more interesting. Crazy, but true.”

She closed her eyes and counted to ten. When that didn’t help, she opened her eyes and glared at him. “Boyd isn’t a programmer and he’s plenty interested in woman and—” She laughed. “Why on earth am I trying to convince you?”

“I have no idea. I don’t have a date, either. We can go together.”

Nicki told herself that the sudden flash of heat that zinged up her thighs was little more than the beginnings of some kind of rash. Or a food allergy. It wasn’t excitement about Zane’s offhand invitation. So he was between women. That happened all the time. Just as quickly, he would be involved again with a large-breasted, slow-witted beauty whose most challenging conversational gambit would be to discuss the various shades of teal that went with her eyes.

“I suppose I could hang out with you at the party,” she said with a casual deliberateness she didn’t come close to feeling. At this moment in time, her insides were practicing clog dancing.

“Hey, I’ll even pick you up,” he said.

She thought about his flashy two-seater sports car and grinned. “I think tying my wheelchair to your bumper and dragging it behind would be a really bad idea.”

“Don’t sweat the details, Nicki. I’ll take care of everything.” He rose and headed for the door. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something sexy.”

“You’re not picking me up,” she called after him. “Don’t be silly. I’ll drive myself.”

He paused in the doorway and stared at her. “I never let my date drive herself.”

Her throat didn’t just get tight. No, first it twisted up like a spring. “D-date?”

“Uh-huh.”

He flashed her the kind of smile deigned to reduce her to a quivering mass. Damn the man—it worked.

“I’m going to show you all my best moves,” he said. “You’ll be impressed.”

Nicki watched him walk out of the room and had a really bad feeling that Zane was right. She was going to be impressed and where exactly would that leave her? The last thing she needed was to be more attracted to him.

Then she reminded herself she’d never been the sort of person to walk away from a challenge. Zane thought he could knock her socks off. Well, two could play at that game. He’d told her to wear something sexy. She could do that and then some. Maybe if she surprised him, she could get the upper hand for once. Of course what she would do with it once she had it was another question entirely.

Chapter Three

Nicki stared into the full-length mirror and wondered if she was making a mistake. Yes, she wanted to impress Zane, but maybe she was going about it all wrong. She might be attractive and all that, but there was no way on earth her size-B breasts could compete in the major leagues. Zane dated women who were so top heavy they couldn’t walk straight.

She glanced from her reflection to her chest and back. In her closet was a black dress with a neckline that sank nearly to her navel. With some double stick tape and a very straight back, she could dazzle. But in a world of watermelons, who bothered with peaches? Maybe this choice was better. Simple, elegant and classy. Wasn’t that better than trying too hard?

Nicki wished desperately for a second opinion, but her mom was in another state and Ashley, Jeff’s wife, was busy getting herself ready. Besides, there wasn’t much her friend could tell her over the phone.

“You look great,” Nicki said in an effort to make herself feel better.

She knew she didn’t look bad at all. The shimmering bronze fabric of her dress draped beautifully. The loose boat-style neckline left her arms bare—arms that were toned. Folds of fabric hinted at the curves of her breasts without actually exposing them. Her skin was pale and she’d chosen to leave it bare, even her legs. Instead of panty hose, she’d smoothed on a lotion with a hint of glimmer.

One advantage of her wheelchair was she never had to worry about sore feet so she wore strappy impractical shoes that would have crippled anyone trying to walk. A cascade of curls that had taken nearly twenty minutes to arrange and spray into place tumbled down her back.

Had her date been anyone but Zane, she would have been pleased with her appearance. But seeing as it was him…She pressed a hand to her fluttering stomach and tried to think calming thoughts.

“Not a date,” she whispered. “This is not a date. It’s two friends hanging out together. But if it were a date…”

She allowed herself a minute or two of pure fantasy. Zane walking in the door, being so swept away that he pulled her into his arms and kissed her senseless. Then their clothes dissolved and they were making love on the rug in front of the fire.

Of course there were several problems with her fantasy. First of all, she was in a wheelchair and pulling her into his arms could be complicated. Second, the fireplace wasn’t lit, nor was there a rug in front of it. Somehow making love on a hardwood floor wasn’t very appealing.

Maybe she shouldn’t have attended that job fair after college. If she hadn’t met Jeff and been intrigued by his Ritter/Rankin Security, she would have pursued a post-graduate degree in psychology. With professional training she would be able to handle her crush on Zane. Of course if she’d gone to grad school she never would have met him and how gray her world would be without his light.

“Decisions, decisions,” she murmured as she wheeled out of her bedroom.

The doorbell rang just in time to offer a distraction. She headed in that direction and pulled it open.

She’d known Zane was going to pick her up—he’d insisted. And she’d been aware that by him coming to her house, she would be forced to look at him. She’d even told herself he would look good. Unfortunately she’d underestimated the situation by about forty-five percent.

He didn’t look good, he looked amazing. While he usually wore suits at work, the one he had on tonight was more elegant or better tailored or something. The smooth gray fabric brought out the depth of his eyes and made his shoulders look about two miles wide. He’d showered, shaved and wore the burgundy and silver tie she’d given him for Christmas the previous year.

Her brain registered all that before she noticed the spray of flowers he held in one hand. And not just flowers. Nothing traditional like roses or carnations. Instead Zane held several stalks of delicately beautiful orchids. The pale creamy petals were alabaster, tinged with muted green.

“Hey, Nicki,” Zane said as he stepped into her entryway. “You look beautiful, but I expected that.” He handed her the flowers. “I chose these because they reminded me of you.”

As he bent toward her, he brushed her cheek with his mouth. Tingles shot through her like out-of-control fireworks.

She couldn’t think, couldn’t move. Fortunately, it didn’t matter if she swayed a little. She was already sitting down and if she collapsed in a heap, the floor wasn’t that far away.

“hank you,” she murmured, not sure if she meant the flowers, the compliment or his presence. Maybe she meant it for all of them.

“Shall we put these in water before we go?” he asked.

She nodded and led the way to the kitchen.

The room had been customized with lower cabinets and nothing essential above the countertop. As she didn’t get many flowers, the vases were stored in an upper cabinet. She pointed to the right one and Zane got a container down for her. After filling it with water, he retrieved the flowers and set them in the vase.

“They’re lovely,” she said.

He winked. “Do I know my moves or what?”

“You’re a pro,” she told him, and meant it. He was a man who knew his way around women. Okay, so they were just friends going out to a work party. But maybe she could allow herself to live in the fantasy for a few hours and pretend this was all real. As long as she didn’t get her heart engaged, what could it hurt?

She smiled at him. “You’re wearing my tie.”

“I know.” He touched the length of silk. “Maybe later you could let me tie you up with it.” He wiggled his eyebrows as he spoke.

She laughed and tapped her chair. “I’m at enough of a disadvantage already.”

“Want to tie me up instead?”

More than he could know. “I’ll think about it,” she said instead.

He followed her to the front door. When she wheeled out she was surprised to see an SUV parked at the curb.

“You couldn’t possibly have traded your car in on that,” she said. “Is it a rental?”

“Nope. I borrowed it from Ashley. Pretty slick, huh?”

It was more than slick. It was a regular car, which meant there was no way she could get inside on her own. Before Nicki could worry about the awkwardness of the moment, Zane had opened the passenger door and scooped her into his arms. He lifted her into the seat.

For the moment, they were at eye level. In the overhead interior light she could see the flecks of gold and amber that sparkled in his dark brown irises. There was a tiny scar by the corner of his mouth and shadows hollowing his cheekbones.

All she could think was that she wanted him to kiss her. Which was crazy, so what she said instead was, “You didn’t have to borrow her car. I could have driven.”

Zane pulled the seat belt around her and clicked it into place. “No way. On a date, guys drive.”

“That is wildly sexist.”

He winked. “I know.”

The door closed and he moved to the rear of the vehicle where he collapsed her wheelchair and slid it into the back. When he sat next to her, he grinned.

“Is this the most fun you’ve had in weeks or what?”

She knew she should have answered “Or what.” At the very least she should have acted bored, mentioned Boyd or pretended none of this mattered. Instead she found herself a quivering mass of Zane-lust weakened female hormones.

“It’s pretty fun,” she admitted.

His smile turned promising. “There’s more.”

Nicki had never been much of a drinker, but she was a sucker for the occasional glass of champagne. And when it was expensive and served in an actual crystal glass, how could she say no? So she sat in her chair and sipped, while enjoying herself at the party.

There were about forty people in attendance, half of them the staff from Ritter/Rankin Security while the other half were employees of their host.

A few months ago Al Morgan had come to Zane and Jeff after his firm was targeted by a foreign group trying to steal proprietary technology. A sting had been hatched, the culprits apprehended and all was well. The party was a big thank-you to the security firm.

“More?” Zane asked, nodding at her half-full glass.

Nicki shook her head. “I don’t like to get too buzzed. You know what they say about drinking and driving.” She tapped the arm of her wheelchair as she spoke.

Zane smiled. “I could be your designated driver. I think you’d look cute drunk.” He leaned close. “A few sexy moves in that dress and you’d cause a riot.”

His low, velvet voice brushed against her bare skin and made her want to swoon. He’d been at it all night—staying close, teasing in the most delicious way, gazing at her as if she were the only woman in the room. While she liked the attention, even as she knew it was dangerous to see it as significant, she couldn’t help wondering why he was doing it. Bringing her flowers was one thing, but actually spending the evening in date mode was something else.

“Move over big guy,” Ashley Ritter said as she walked up to the sofa.

Zane stood. “I’ll grab us some food,” he said, then leaned toward Ashley and kissed her on the cheek. “You’re radiant as always.”

“If you think that shamelessly flattering your partner’s wife is going to influence how I talk about you, you’re right,” she said as she settled on the sofa. “Bring me back anything salty please.”

He nodded and headed for the buffet. Nicki frowned at her friend. “Aren’t you supposed to be watching sodium? Didn’t you swell up like a balloon when you were pregnant with Michael?”

Jeff’s wife wrinkled her nose, then brushed back her dark hair. “Thanks so much for reminding me.”

“I’m your friend. I worry.”

Ashley sighed. “I know I have to watch my diet but in the past couple of days I’ve been like a cow without a salt lick. Desperate.” Her hazel eyes danced with amusement. “But enough about the oddities of my pregnant self. What’s going on with you? Since when did Zane start escorting you to parties and hanging on your every word and why didn’t you call and tell me he’d finally seen the light?”

Nicki instinctively turned to make sure Zane was safely across the room and not within hearing distance. “It’s not like that,” she said, her voice low. “Boyd couldn’t make it tonight and Zane offered to bring me. Nothing more.”

“That’s not what it looks like to me, young lady.”

Nicki sighed. “He’s on date patrol or something, but it doesn’t mean anything.”

Ashley’s expression turned sympathetic. She leaned close. “I know you’re convinced he couldn’t possibly be interested in you because he only dates bubbleheads, but I think you should tell him the truth about your feelings and give this whole thing a chance. Zane is a lot like Jeff—there’s plenty concealed beneath the surface. The difference is Jeff hid himself behind the walls of being a warrior while Zane chooses a more charming facade. But that doesn’t change the reality. They’re both hiding the real man.”

“Who is the real Zane?” Nicki asked. “Sometimes I think I catch glimpses of him when we’re hanging out together. He lets his guard down, which I appreciate. But there’s no telling that the inner Zane will be any more interested in me than the outer one.”

“You could try to find out.”

A good plan, Nicki thought, except she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. Not if the answer was negative.

Ashley read her expression. “So go another route,” her friend suggested. “Find out about the secrets he hides. Why does he pursue young women with minimal IQs?”

“Because they’re easy.”

Ashley chuckled. “Tell him you could be, too. And if you do see him naked, I want a full report.”

Nicki grinned. “You always say that but if I ever try to give you details, you can’t stand to hear them.”

“I know. I get shy.”

Nicki thought about the affectionate glances she’d seen between Ashley and Jeff, and the very hot kiss she’d accidentally interrupted one afternoon at the office.

“Not with Jeff,” she said.

Ashley sighed. Her expression softened and her gaze sought out her husband. “No, not with Jeff,” she agreed.

Zane grabbed a fresh glass of champagne from the server’s tray and handed it to Nicki. She took the offered drink.

“Hmm, why do I know this puts me over my limit?” she asked.

He winked.

“You’re trying to get me drunk.”

“I’ll admit the thought crossed my mind,” he told her.

“I wouldn’t have thought you would have to resort to cheap tricks with your dates.”

“I don’t,” he said smugly. “The women I go out with fall at my feet.”

“Easier for me to do that than most, but don’t hold your breath.”

She grinned as she spoke, then sipped her drink. Zane tucked a loose curl behind her ear.

Laughter brightened her eyes. He’d always found her attractive, but dressed to kill she was stunning.

He’d seen her legs countless times—in the gym, when she wore shorts in the summer. He was used to the long, lean length of thigh and calf. He barely noticed the faint crisscrossing of scars that patterned her right leg. She kept herself in shape and he’d always been man enough to appreciate the curves.

But tonight something was different. Maybe it was the length of her skirt—the way the filmy fabric barely covered the tops of her thighs. Maybe it was the faint glow of her skin, or the fact that when he’d lifted her into the SUV his hand had cupped bare, warm flesh. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t stop looking at her legs…or wanting to touch them.

He knew she could feel everything. Her being in a wheelchair wasn’t about being paralyzed. So if he stroked his fingers from ankle to knee, then knee to thigh, she would feel every millimeter of contact. And then what? Would she lean toward him, her mouth parting in welcome? Would her breathing quicken as she—

“Zane?”

Nicki’s voice called him back to the party.

He blinked and forced his mind away from her body. “What?”

“You had the oddest expression on your face. What on earth were you thinking about?”

He was saved from coming up with a lie by the arrival of their host. Al Morgan pulled a chair up next to Nicki and sat down.

“How are you doing?” the gray-haired man said as he took Nicki’s free hand in his.

She smiled. “I’m great.”

Al studied her. “We’ve been doing some work with various metal alloys. It’s all hush-hush stuff for the government, but it will have industrial applications. I was wondering—”

Nicki cut him off with a quick shake of her head. “You’re a sweetie for thinking of me, Al, but no.”

“Hear me out,” he told her. “We’re talking very strong but extremely lightweight. You’d barely know they were there.”

“Braces are still braces.”

“But you’d be walking.”

Her smile was patient. “The two-legged thing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Believe me, I’ve tried it.” She released his hand and tapped his knee. “Walking is what you know and I appreciate that you want that kind of freedom for me. But shuffling along in braces is slow and awkward.”

Al didn’t look convinced. “There are medical advances every day.”

“I agree and I have a doctor who keeps on top of that sort of thing. I trust her completely, but despite miracles, some things can’t be healed. I learned that when I broke my legs.” She smiled ruefully. “The left one was so bad, even one of the ski patrol rescue guys passed out when he saw the bones sticking out. There was no way the bones could heal correctly. Walking was still a possibility because my right leg would be okay.”

She paused. Zane knew the story, knew how she’d struggled all those years ago. She’d been fourteen when her world had crashed in on her.

“Then I got a bone infection,” she continued. “It took months to heal and when it did, the bones in my right leg had been weakened to the point where they could never support my weight.”

“With physical therapy—” Al started.

Nicki cut him off. “With physical therapy I can use braces. I can be upright and so what? It’s hard work, not to mention painful. In my chair, I’m completely mobile.”

“She’s hell on wheels,” Zane told Al. “Trust me—I’ve been run over.”

She smiled at him. “Only when you’re getting on my nerves.” She turned back to Al. “I can walk with braces and a walker, I choose not to. A wheelchair beats the step-drag thing in my book.”

Al didn’t look convinced but he nodded. “If I can change your mind,” he said.

“You can’t.”

She changed the subject to how his oldest daughter was doing at college. When Al was called away to look after his other guests, Zane touched her arm.

“Are you okay with him interfering?”

“Sure. He’s doing it because he cares about me.” She smiled. “I like that in a man.”

Zane had always admired Nicki’s courage and temperament. He found himself wanting to say that he cared, too.

“If he brings it up again, I’ll go into more detail,” she said. “Al sees me now, years after the accident. But if he’d been around when it happened, he would understand how far I’ve come.”

She sipped her champagne. “Back then I would have agreed with him. I was determined to walk again, no matter how difficult it was or how much it hurt. When my parents bought me my first wheelchair, I saw it as a defeat. No way I was going to give in. Then one day I sat in it and I was amazed at how lightweight it was and how easily I could move around. Once I figured out I could outrun anyone and be involved in sports, I never looked back.”

Typical, he thought proudly. Nicki wasn’t a quitter. “Do you still have braces?”

“Sure, but I rarely use them. A friend from college got married and I was a bridesmaid. I used the braces so I could stand up with the rest of the wedding party, but I didn’t try walking down the aisle in them. Back in high school and college I would take them to dances so I could shuffle around the floor with my date.” She grinned. “Sometimes I let the guys take them off. That always got them really excited.”

Young men unbuckling cool metal from her smooth, warm thighs? He could understand the attraction.

He pretended shock. “You let them feel you up?”

“Of course.”

“Did your mother know?”

She rolled her eyes. “Someone with your dating history is in no position to be judgmental. Besides, my prom date didn’t get much more than a quick feel. I’m guessing your prom date offered you a chance to score.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t go to my prom. I was in a high school boot camp, paying my debt to society.”

“You’re kidding? What had you done?”

He shrugged. “Got caught in stolen truck with a few dozen TVs that didn’t belong to me.”

“No way.”

“I was a wild kid.”

She leaned close. “Okay, start at the beginning and talk slowly. I want details.”

“No way.” He held up his glass. “I’d have to be a whole lot more drunk than this to spill that story.”

She raised her arm to flag a waiter. He caught her hand and pulled it down.

“I’m driving, Nicki. One’s my limit.”

“How annoying. I’m going to have to lure you to my place then, with plans to get you drunk and worm the truth out of you.”

He considered all the possibilities that went along with that and knew he should back off. Nicki was a friend—he didn’t want that to change. Still he found himself agreeing to her plan, and anticipating the event.

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