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keep her voice even. “It really doesn’t matter.”
    â€œWe aim to please.”
    â€œI have to put on the chicken.” She turned and found herself in deeper water. It was a mistake to look up at him, to see that slight smile on his lips and that calm, confident look in his eyes. Instinctively she lifted a hand to his chest. Even that was a mistake. She could feel the slow, steady beat of his heart. She couldn’t back up, because there was no place to go, and stepping forward was tempting, dangerously so. “Mitch, you’re in my way.”
    He’d seen it. Though it had been free briefly and suppressed quickly, he’d seen the passion come into her eyes. So she could feel and want and wonder. Maybe it was best if they both wondered a little while longer. “I think you’re going to find that happening a lot.” But he shifted aside and let her pass. “You smell good, Hester, damn good.”
    That quiet statement did nothing to ease her pulse rate. Humoring Radley or not, she vowed this would be the last time she entertained Mitch Dempsey. Hester turned on the gas under the wok and added peanut oil. “I take it you do your work at home, then. No office?”
    He’d let her have it her way for the time being. The minute she’d turned in his arms and looked up at him, he’d known he’d have it his way—have her his way—before too long. “I only have to go a couple of times a week. Some of the writers or artists prefer working in the office. I do better work at home. After I have the story and the sketches, I take them in for editing and inking.”
    â€œI see. So you don’t do the inking yourself?” she asked, though she’d have been hard-pressed to define what inking was. She’d have to ask Radley.
    â€œNot anymore. We have some real experts in that, and it gives me more time to work on the story. Believe it or not, we shoot for quality, the kind of vocabulary that challenges a kid and a story that entertains.”
    After adding chicken to the hot oil, Hester took a deep breath. “I really do apologize for anything I said that offended you. I’m sure your work’s very important to you, and I know Radley certainly appreciates it.”
    â€œWell said, Mrs. Wallace.” He slid the vegetable-laden chopping block toward her.
    â€œJosh doesn’t believe it.” Radley bounced into the room, delighted with himself. “He wants to come over tomorrow and see. Can he? His mom says okay if it’s okay with you. Okay, Mom?”
    Hester turned from the chicken long enough to give Radley a hug. “Okay, Rad, but it has to be after noon. We have some shopping to do in the morning.”
    â€œThanks. Just wait till he sees. He’s gonna go crazy. I’ll tell him.”
    â€œDinner’s nearly ready. Hurry up and wash your hands.”
    Radley rolled his eyes at Mitch as he raced from the room again.
    â€œYou’re a big hit,” Hester commented.
    â€œHe’s nuts about you.”
    â€œThe feeling’s mutual.”
    â€œSo I noticed.” Mitch topped off his wine. “You know, I was curious. I always thought bankers kept bankers’ hours. You and Rad don’t get home until five or so.” When she turned her head to look at him, he merely smiled. “Some of my windows face the front. I like to watch people going in and out.”
    It gave her an odd and not entirely comfortable feeling to know he’d watched her walk home. Hester dumped the vegetables in and stirred. “I get off at four, but then I have to pick Rad up from the sitter.” She glanced over her shoulder again. “He hates it when I call her a sitter. Anyway, she’s over by our old place, so it takes awhile. I have to start looking for someone closer.”
    â€œA lot of kids his age and younger come home on their own.”
    Her eyes did go smoky, he noted. All she needed was a