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don't share your passion for history, Kate,” Nan said apologetically. “Sometimes I even forget what year they fought the War of 1812.”
    Kathryn smiled at her friend, and all the resentment drained out of her. After all, Nan couldn't help the way she felt about Blake. It wasn't her fault he was so wickedly attractive…
    “Let's ride down through the woods,” she said abruptly, wheeling Sundance. “I love to smell the river, don't you?”
    “Oh, yes,” Nan agreed. “I'm with you!”
    ***
    Blake was home for dinner that night, an occurrence rare enough to cause comment.
    “Run out of girls?” Phillip teased as they sat around the table nibbling at Mrs. Johnson's chicken casserole.
    “Phillip!” Maude chided, her dark eyes disapproving as she paused in the act of lifting a forkful of chicken to her mouth.
    Blake raised an eyebrow at his brother. His blue-checked sports shirt was open at the neck, and he looked vibrant and rested and dangerously attractive to Kathryn, who was doing her best to keep her eyes away from him.
    “You had more than your share this morning,” Blake remarked dryly.
    “Was that why you dragged me off to the office before I could enjoy being surrounded by them?” Phillip laughed.
    “I needed your support, little brother.”
    “Sure. The way Samson needed a herd of horses to help him tug the pillars down.”
    “I would like to point out,” Maude said gently, “that Mrs. Johnson spent an hour preparing this excellent chicken dish, which is turning to bile in my stomach.”
    Kathryn darted an amused glance at the older woman. “You should have had daughters,” she suggested.
    Maude stared at Blake, then at Phillip. “I'm not sure. It's very hard to picture Blake in spike heels and a petticoat.”
    Kathryn choked on her mashed potatoes, and Phillip had to lean over and thump her on the back.
    “I'm glad Kathryn finds something amusing,” Blake said in that cold, curt tone that she hated so much. “She wasn't in the best of humors this morning.”
    Kathryn swallowed a sip of coffee, and her dark green eyes glared at Blake across the table. “I don't remember saying anything to you at all, Blake,” she murmured.
    “No,” he agreed. “You were too busy flouncing off to offer a civil greeting.”
    How could he be so blind? she wondered, but she only glared at him. “Excuse me,” she said haughtily, “but I never flounce.”
    He lifted his coffee cup to his chiseled lips, but his eyes never left Kathryn's face. Something dark and hard in them unnerved her. “Push a little harder, honey,” he challenged quietly.
    Her small frame stiffened. “I'm not afraid of you,” she said with a forced smile.
    His eyes narrowed, and a corner of his mouth went up. “I could teach you to be,” he said.
    “Now, children,” Maude began, her eyes plainly indicating which of the two she was referring to as they glared at Kathryn. “This is the meal hour, remember? Indigestion is bad for the soul.”
    Phillip sighed as he tasted his lemon mousse. “It's never stopped them before,” he muttered.
    Kathryn crumpled her napkin and laid it beside her plate before she got to her feet. “I think I'll play the piano for a while, if no one minds.”
    “Not for too long, dear, you'll keep Blake awake,” Maude cautioned. “Remember, he has to get up at five in the morning to drive down to Charleston to pick up the Leedses at the airport.”
    Kathryn threw a gracious smile in Blake's direction. “Of course,” she said with honey in her voice. “Our elders must have their beauty rest.”
    “By heaven, you're asking for it,” Blake said in a voice that sent chills down her spine.
    “Go, girl!” Phillip said, pushing her in the direction of the living room. He closed the door behind them with an exaggerated sigh and leaned against it. “Whew!” he breathed, and his dark eyes laughed at her when he opened them again. “Don't push your luck, sweet. He's been impossible to get along with for