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the table. “If it hadn’t been for that battery, I’d have been back home in bed by now.”
    “Instead,” he teased, “we’ve had a chance to get reacquainted. Urn, acquainted.”
    Chloe stopped wiping and straightened. Getting acquainted was one thing, but where did they go from there? The physical attraction that had been rekindled with a vengeance earlier, weighed heavily on her now.
    “Uh-uh, Chloe.” He came up behind her. “Just relax.” She looked back, wondering how he knew. “I can feel it in the air-that whatever-it is that disturbs you.” He took the cloth from her and tossed it into the sink. “I won’t pounce. I’ll just walk you to your room.”
    That was exactly what he did. He halted on the threshold. “The manager said he’d leave plenty of towels. I wish I could offer you something else. You seem to be without those … things that most women can’t live without.”
    She smiled. “I don’t need anything.”
    “A shirt? Would you like a fresh shirt of mine in place of a … a..
    “Negligee?” Her smile widened. “No, thanks, Ross. If the sheets are clean, they’ll be covering enough. But I have to get an early start in the morning.”
    He nodded. “I called the garage while you were making our dinner. They’ll be at your car no later than eight. Is that too early?”
    “Lord, no! I have to call Lee, my partner, anyway. There’s a small matter of an appointment at nine.”
    “Will she fill in for you?”
    “No. He has work of his own to do.” She grinned at Ross’s startled look. “He’ll cancel and explain for me. I’ll reschedule when I get back.”
    Ross nodded, but he was gnawing on his lower lip. There was obviously more that he wanted to say, but Chloe wasn’t inviting him in. That would be dangerous. Very dangerous. But when he turned and headed down the stairs to his own room, she felt disappointed. Part of her wondered if flirting with danger could end on a happy note this time.
    The night manager hadn’t only left extra towels, but he’d also left a package of goodies tailor-made for the stranded motorist. There was a toothbrush, toothpaste, a comb, soap, and, luxury of luxuries, an envelope of bubble-bath powder.
    Chloe smiled. She’d had her share of tension today; now she would release it. The devil could take the hour; she would take a long, hot bath!
    Several deft flicks of her wrist sent a full stream of hot water into the long porcelain tub, which stood, in keeping with the vintage aura of the inn itself, on four clawed feet. Feeling scandalous, she sprinkled the entire contents of the envelope beneath the steaming flow.
    Moments later she was immersed to her neck in bubbles. Draping her hair over the lip of the tub, she closed her eyes and gave in to pleasure. Was it true what they said about the subconscious urge to return to the womb? Was this all-enveloping warmth, this light floating what it had been like?
    The womb, however, was not where she wished most to be at that moment. Rather, she thought of the arms that had held her earlier, the lips that had kissed her, the strong body that had supported her. Buoyed by a sense of euphoria, she allowed herself to think back on the full story of that night eleven years ago.
    It had been the holiday recess. She and Crystal had returned from their first semester at the university to spend Thanksgiving with the family. The boys were gathered: AJLAN from Denver, Chris from Chicago, Tim from St. Louis-from their respective subdivisions of the Macdaniel domain. They had spent a typically revel-filled Thanksgiving Day, complete with gargantuan offerings of turkey, stuffing, salads and vegetables and fruit molds, pies and cakes and other goodies, not to mention the company of aunts and uncles and cousins galore. Later that night, she and Crystal had dropped in at Sandra’s house, where a party had been in progress.
    Sandra had been their best friend through carefree high school years. They hadn’t seen her since