Game On by Nancy Warren Page A

everything I could from Ed and then I left to do my MBA.”
    “No hard feelings?”
    Was Mr. Detective wondering if her old boss liked smiley faces? “No,” she said firmly. “In fact, if I phoned him tomorrow and asked for a job, he’d give me one. We still have lunch once in a while. He gives me investment advice and now I’m able to offer useful suggestions about human-resources issues in exchange. It works.”
    “That’s an amazing story. I had no idea. Figured you for somebody who came from money.”
    She smiled. “I learned everything, from manners to how to dress, act and talk, from TV and watching people. Especially people I admired. You know, we learn more than we realize from our parents. I had to consciously model myself on other people.”
    “You ever see your mom?” he asked gently.
    “No. She died some years back.” She didn’t feel like talking about the mess of emotions she suspected she’d never really sort out where her mother was concerned and he seemed to understand.
    “You have a real toughness about you. Now I see where it comes from.”
    “You have a real toughness, too.”
    “Comes with the job.”
    “So? How about you? Deep dark secrets? Family drama?”
    “Compared to you? I grew up on the set of Leave It to Beaver. Weirdly, I sometimes think that’s true. I mean, my mother bakes. Like constantly. She cooks a real dinner every single night. Roast on Sundays. Who does that?”
    “And your father?”
    “Also a cop. And obviously the reason I went into law enforcement.”
    “You see? It’s what I said earlier. We either follow our parents’ patterns and the attitudes we’ve unconsciously accepted or we go the other way. You and I chose exactly the opposite paths from each other. Quite dramatic, really.”
    “I guess.” He turned to her. “Do you want more tea?”
    “No, thank you.”
    “You feeling sleepy yet?” he asked her.
    “No.”
    “Want to watch some TV?”
    She wasn’t remotely sleepy and neither, it seemed, was he. “Sure.”
    He flipped the remote and his big-screen sprang to life. “There’s not much on this time of night, but we can watch a pay-per-view.”
    “Fine.” She didn’t really care.
    They settled on a recent comedy neither of them had seen. It wasn’t particularly funny, but at least it whiled away the time. He dragged a hand-knit throw off the back of the couch, told her his mother had knit it and placed it across both their knees. At some point he put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him so she was snuggled against his warm, solid bulk.
    It felt nice. Warm and safe. She tried not to think about how sexy it was to feel the warmth of his skin beneath her cheek, to smell his unique scent, to hear the steady thud of his heart.
    Amazingly, she felt herself begin to relax.

10
    A DAM FELT THE change in Serena’s breathing and knew the second she fell asleep. Her hair brushed his skin like silk tassels; her soft breath wafted over his chest. He’d never wanted a woman more.
    He’d never fought his own urges harder.
    She was in his house for protection. She trusted him.
    He wished he’d never kissed her. All he could think about when he looked at her was how good she’d tasted. When she was close, like now, he could feel her warmth, the press of her body against his. But this wasn’t the time or the place. Damn, he wished he was a pajama-wearing guy simply so he could have lent her something that would cover that spectacular body a little more fully. Instead he’d been tormented by the smooth expanse of her long legs, the shape of her breasts in their natural, braless shape. Even her feet turned him on. They were dainty feet, the nails painted pink.
    When she was like this, vulnerable and soft, she no longer reminded him of Madame D, but he recognized that her appeal was much more dangerous. As he glimpsed the real woman behind the efficient, tough-by-day coach, he saw a woman he could seriously fall for. Brainy, sweet,