Home Fires by Barbara Delinsky

are you?” He had approached to stand by her side, looking down at her.
    â€œAt you?” She glanced up to meet his gaze. “No. At the situation … yes.”
    He cocked his head toward the door. “Does he walk out and leave you to the wolves like this often?”
    Deanna snickered at his interpretation of her words. “He has this way of conveniently unloading me on whomever he can corral to keep me busy. But you’ve received the supreme compliment. He must trust you.”
    â€œAnd you?” His lids lowered heavily. “Do you trust me?”
    Deanna had no wish to answer his question. With a deep breath she turned back to the table. “As an architect, you’re unbelievable. These sketches are magnificent!”
    She felt the warmth of his breath against her cheek as he leaned over her shoulder to share the view. “I’m glad you like them,” he whispered, then kissed her neck so
softly that she might have believed she’d imagined it, had not his tongue offered an erotic follow-up that in turn made her shiver.
    â€œMark!” she gasped, jumping away. “No, I don’t trust you! Alone in a room … not for a minute!” Nor did she trust herself; the deep internal ache had begun again. She didn’t know whether to swallow her pride and flee or try to fend him off until Bob returned. “You know, you’re as bad as Bob is.”
    Mark frowned. “How so?”
    â€œYou might have told me about this”—she gestured broadly toward the table—“the other night.”
    â€œAs I recall, you didn’t want to know anything about me. I offered.” He had indeed, she had to admit
    â€œBut this was something I should have known about.”
    â€œBefore … or after?”
    â€œEither!”
    â€œWould it have made a difference?” he asked, beginning to gather the plans into a large pile. “Would you not have come upstairs with me had you known beforehand that I’d be doing work for your foundation?”
    Instead of answering, Deanna wandered to the far end of the table and eased down into the black leather chair at its head. With her arms propped on its wooden ones, she crossed her legs and tried to feel comfortable. It was impossible. The whir of her emotions continued to disturb her.
    â€œTell me, Deanna, would you have done differently had you known?”
    He had come to stand directly before her and she had to tip her head back to meet his gaze. “Yes. I would never have gone with you.”
    A low breath passed his lips. “You’re pretty sure about that. How about the reason behind it?”
    She looked down, hesitant. Her reasoning was clear to her, but could she express it to another? “I don’t know,
Mark.” She sighed. “What happened between us was … unreal. Had I identified you with the foundation I couldn’t have gone through with it. I would have been … frightened.”
    â€œOf scandal?”
    He hit the mark. “I suppose you could call it that.”
    â€œAre you afraid now?” he asked gently, tilting her chin up with his finger.
    Deanna had only to look at him for a minute to feel a surge of desire. “Yes,” she whispered. Her lower lip trembled; her eyes glowed with a need she wanted to ignore.
    Releasing her chin with a caress, he leaned over to place an arm on either side of hers, bringing his head down close by her face. “Can you tell me about it, Deanna? Tell me what frightens you.”
    â€œYou’re asking a lot.”
    â€œYou’ve done well so far. Why not keep trying?”
    He was so different, she mused. No one had ever coaxed her to reveal herself like this. He was special. She wanted nothing more than to touch him. Instead she clenched her fists and averted her gaze, but he seemed to be everywhere … large, clean, strong. His pale blue shirt covered broad muscles; his gray slacks stretched