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society. Mimi was anything but traditional, cavorted with a wild crowd, often appeared on her father’s wacky commercials. Good God, they’d only wound up together because of Hannah. And if Hannah found out he’d slept with her sister, she might think he’d used Mimi to get over her.
    No, he and Mimi were disastrous together. Their earlier conversation rose to haunt him. The only thing they had in common was that neither wanted marriage or kids. At least not now.
    But what if she was pregnant?
    * * *
    Mimi squeezed her eyes shut, pretending sleep as she wrestled with the awkward morning after. She knew Seth was awake, had felt his heart start pounding double time and his muscles tense, as if he, too, didn’t know quite how to handle things. His lower body didn’t seem to be listening to his brain, though. If she moved an inch to either side, they would have a repeat of the night before—only now, in the light of day, it didn’t seem like such a great idea.
    When would she learn not to be so impetuous?
    Seth gently pulled her arms from around his neck, and she allowed him to roll her to the side. She emitted a little moan as if she might be stirring from slumber to make the act seem more real—after all, she was an actress. She could pretend nothing had happened and blow the whole night off with a shrug if he really weirded out on her.
    She curled on her side, dragging the satin sheets over her as he padded barefoot to the bathroom. But she couldn’t resist peeking through a slitted eye to admire his firm, muscular backside. Good grief, the man had great buns and a broad back, and corded muscles she hadn’t expected. Why did he hide them under those boring gray suits?
    Because he was a psychiatrist, she reminded herself, crashing back to reality. The very reason the two of them did not belong together. She was the impulsive, middle-class, college-dropout child of wacky Wiley Hartwell; he was the genius-doctor son of the upper-class Broadhursts.
    She heard the shower kick on, remembered the two of them and all the naughty things they’d done beneath the water, the look on Seth’s face when she’d gotten inventive with strawberries—they’d tasted sinful wedged in his navel with a dash of lime juice—and felt an odd kind of loneliness. The night had been spectacular. He had held her and loved her more tenderly than any man ever had. Did it really have to end? Maybe she’d shortchanged herself into thinking she didn’t deserve someone as sophisticated as Seth.
    Then she noticed the rumpled bridesmaid dress, and desire drained from her faster than dishwater drained from a sink. She’d stooped lower than ever—she had broken the unspoken rule about not dating a sister’s former boyfriend. Disgust filled her. She’d always walked in Hannah’s shadow, and she’d never really minded. Hadn’t minded wearing her hand-me-down clothes or shoes or even sharing a room with her when she was growing up.
    But she absolutely drew the line at taking her leftover men.
    * * *
    Seth emerged from the steamy bathroom and hissed in frustration at his torn pants. Then he saw Mimi.
    Gut-wrenchingly beautiful, Mimi jumped from the bed, twisting the sheet around her naked body. The satin fabric molded to every curve and peak, accentuating her lush figure so he could almost see her skin through the thin layer of cloth. Her wild hair spiraled around her bare shoulders in a tangle, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes heavy-lidded with sleep, her makeup faded. But tousled and freshly loved, she looked more appealing than ever.
    Only, where passion and ecstasy had glistened in her eyes last night, turmoil now stretched across her features. She looked miserable, which made him feel even more miserable. Hadn’t she enjoyed their night together? He’d certainly thought so.
    “This was a mistake,” they said in unison.
    “We shouldn’t have, you know,” Mimi said in a wobbly voice.
    “It was my fault. I … I was only trying to