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her, amusement a subdued slant at the corners of his mouth. Although he didn’t touch her, there was a feeling of closeness, an intangible communication as if he knew he could touch her but preferred to savor the knowledge rather than test its truth.
    And in truth he didn’t need to touch her. The mere fact of his nearness kept her heart pounding, kept her breath shallow. Kris couldn’t help noticing the way his movements corresponded with hers, even down to his timing as he stepped ahead of her to open the door. She and Tucker were in tune, one with the other. But then, wasn’t that just as it should be in a fantasy?
    During the following hours, though, Kris found it increasingly difficult to remember that she was in the midst of a fantasy. Tucker was decidedly real, genuinely eager to talk to her about important and not so important issues of everyday living —like the advantages of using brown mustard in preference to yellow; like the vagarious nature of the weather; like the fundamental differences between listening to a talk show on the radio and watching one on television.
    By the time they returned to the hotel, long after the moon cast a silver shadow on the Denver skyline, Kristina felt completely comfortable with him. Or at least as comfortable as it was possible to be with her body on a natural high of awareness. Inevitably there had been moments throughout the evening when memory caught her unprotected, when she remembered things she didn’t want to remember. But more often the moments had been composed of subtly enticing looks or light, exhilarating touches, casual in their inception but intimately serious as they lingered.
    Tucker was special.
    There was no denying it, no wishing it were the simple imagining of her heart. If she hadmet him for the first time yesterday, she would still have felt the same sense of discovery, this same magic. Eleven years before, she had taken his tenderness and understanding for granted, not truly appreciating the special spark of attraction between them—a spark that she had searched for in other men since, but never found. Did Tucker feel it, too? Even after all this time?
    Kristina knew she didn’t need to ask. As she walked beside him down the hallway toward her room, his steps matched hers in procrastinating slowness. Their easy come-and-go conversation had lagged into a hesitant silence when they entered the hotel, and goodnight already hung heavy in the surrounding air.
    Her numbered door came into view, and a thick indecision swelled in her throat. Should she invite him in? No, she couldn’t. Not now, not until she was more sure of herself. Not until the question of invitation faded into the answer.
    “Here we are.” The husky inflection of his voice swept her thoughts to oblivion. The brush of his hand against her arm swirled through her like the warning rumble of a distant thunder.
    She lifted her gaze to his and stared, unsmiling, into the cloudy twilight of his eyes. “Yes,” she murmured. “Thank you, Tucker.”
    “For what?”
    “For tonight.” It was difficult for her to catch her breath, hard to speak over the faint echoing beat of her heart. “For the dinner. For the drive. For everything.”
    “My motives were entirely selfish, Kristina.” A wry lift at one corner of his mouth gave the illusion of a smile. “I don’t want you to forget this vacation ... or me.”
    The knot in her throat grew even tighter, and she placed a palm against the wall behind her for support. “I won’t forget.”
    He took a step nearer, his hand coming to rest on the doorjamb beside her, his expression softening with exquisite promise. “I’m not taking any chances. By Saturday there isn’t going to be a single doubt, in my mind or in yours.”
    Kris moistened her lips, and her eyelids began to feel weighted with helpless expectation. “You’re very sure of yourself.”
    “Yes. I guess I am.” A thread of surprise wove his agreement into a caressing warmth