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but she always awakened before he thrust inside her and took them both over the edge. She also always awakened fully aroused. Alisa couldn’t decide which was worse—the nightmares or the erotic dreams.
    She hitched a ride to her apartment with Dylan in the mornings while he went into work, then he gave her a return ride home at lunchtime. The past few days she’d eaten her lunch late, so she wouldn’t spend extra time with him. He was like a hot stove to her, his heat drew her, but she knew she could get burned. She had the sense that a woman could become fascinated with Dylan and forget that the man had a lot of closed doors. Although she found herself both emotionally and sexually seduced by him, Alisa didn’t want to fall into a trap.
    After an endless weekend of looking through photo albums, listening to CDs she’d found at her apartmentand putting together small fragments of her history, she returned and crossed paths with Dylan as he was sorting his mail. “How’s it going?” he asked.
    “Fine,” she said. “I’m down to thirty-minute naps in the afternoon.”
    “No more nightmares?”
    She shook her head, wishing she could shake the other dreams that made it too hot for her to sleep. Spotting an ivory invitation of some sort on the floor, she bent to pick it up. “You dropped it,” she said, scanning the invitation. “Cocktail party inviting the board of Remington Pharmaceuticals. Are you going?”
    “Probably not,” he said, and tossed her a careless smile. “It’s on Thursday night. I think there’s a Braves game.”
    Alisa rolled her eyes. “There’s always a Braves game. Will some of your half siblings be there?”
    “Probably. Why?” he asked, looking at her.
    “Just curious,” she said. “Have you ever met your half family in a social setting?”
    “Not unless you consider the official reading of the will,” he said with a chuckle.
    Alisa couldn’t help laughing with him. “Aren’t you curious how they’d act in a less formal setting?”
    “No.”
    “I am.”
    “Then maybe you should go.”
    “Okay,” she said without missing a beat. “What time should we leave?”
    “What’s this ‘we,’ Tonto?”
    A memory flashed through her. She stared at him. “You’ve said that to me before.”
    He paused. “Yeah. About a hundred times.”
    “Reruns of The Lone Ranger television series,” she said, the vague recollection strengthening. “That’s how I got you to teach me to catch.”
    “You would sneak me into your house to watch the reruns while your mom was taking care of dinner at the cafeteria. The Granger boys had one television in the community room that was always breaking.”
    “But my mother had a nice television. It was small but it always worked.” She shook her head. “I was so scared my mother would catch us. When she finally did—”
    “I had to peel a zillion potatoes and take out the cafeteria trash for a month,” he said. “It could have been worse if the headmaster had found out.”
    “I begged her not to tell him,” Alisa said, recalling pleading with her mother. “You didn’t stop teaching me to catch,” she remembered. “Why? I had lost my bribe appeal.”
    “I don’t know,” he said. “You always had this combination of being determined as hell but nice. Tough on yourself, but kind to others. You were a loyal little thing.”
    Just when she was ready to give up on Dylan, he provided her with a glimpse of herself that filled up some of her emptiness and gave her hope that shecould recapture her past. Every day she struggled with how someone without a past could make a future.
    Realizing she’d been distracted from their original conversation, she switched gears with a smile. “What time do I need to be ready for the cocktail party?” she asked.
    “Never o’clock,” he said, turning back to the mail.
    “Hmm,” she said, thinking. “Are you afraid of your half brothers and sister?”
    He looked up at her with more firepower in