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Apparently John Troyer wasn’t a tentative
kind of guy.
    Washed away by sensation, Madison discovered she felt
demanding, too. Her fingers dug into the sleek muscles in his shoulders and she
parted her lips to accept the thrust of his tongue. Her knees wanted to buckle.
She leaned against his solid frame and tasted beer, salt and something
distinctly him. His thighs were so strong, his hands powerful but still careful
as he positioned her to suit him. She was melting, too aroused to remember where
they were.
    He was the one to stiffen and lift his head. Only belatedly did
Madison realize she’d heard the scrape of furniture on the floor behind them.
Oh, heavens—she sneaked a peek to see that a waiter was upending chairs and
putting them on tables. He very tactfully had his back to them as he worked, but
he must have seen them kissing.
    Troy gently kissed her again then eased her away. He was
smiling, but the heated glow in his eyes told her he hadn’t liked having to let
her go any better than she did. “Didn’t mean to get so carried away,” he
said.
    “It’s probably just as well we were interrupted.” Madison
wasn’t sure she meant it. “I’m usually, um, a little more cautious than
that.”
    His hands momentarily tightened on her arms. The next moment he
loosened them very deliberately. With a nudge he started her between tables
toward the top of the staircase. “I don’t suppose you have a lot of spare time
the next few days.”
    “You think?”
    “I’m meeting with your head of security tomorrow. Can we have
coffee if I stop by your office afterward?”
    Madison discovered she hated the idea of not seeing him at all
tomorrow. “Yes. If we can make it iced coffee. It’s supposed to top a hundred
tomorrow.”
    His hand moved in a gentle circle on her back. “Far as I’m
concerned, we can go sit in the shade and do nothing but hold hands.”
    This feeling, as if champagne bubbles were popping in her
bloodstream, was an entirely new sensation for her. “That works, too,” she
admitted and made sure she had her hand on the railing as she began to descend
the stairs. Her legs still weren’t quite steady.
    By the way he hovered, Madison felt fairly certain Troy
wouldn’t let her fall. Modern woman that she was, she ought to be disgusted to
discover she felt reassured and even...cherished.
    Knowing he couldn’t see her face, she frowned. Wow. Getting
swept away like this might make her giddy, but it was more than a little scary,
too.
    So what? she thought with an
unaccustomed feeling of boldness, already looking forward to tomorrow. In her
opinion, she was past due to take some risks.

CHAPTER THREE
    “I SAW A PICTURE of your dad,” Madison
said.
    Troy made a lazy sound in his throat that she took as an
inquiry.
    He lounged next to her on a stone bench in the shade beside the
duck pond, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. The shade
wasn’t doing an awful lot of good. Leaves hung limply. Even the usually
aggressive ducks hadn’t stirred themselves to beg for handouts. Conversation had
been desultory at best. Each of them had been sipping at the iced coffees he’d
brought, as promised.
    “I studied some of the reunion photos,” she explained. “Putting
faces to names. Think how impressed they’ll be if I recognize some of them as
they arrive.”
    Troy turned his head and smiled at her. “I’d be impressed.”
    She sighed. “Of course, the last reunion of our fathers’ class
was five years ago. Everyone has probably gained weight or lost hair or
something. I probably won’t recognize a one of them.”
    “Dad was definitely losing his hair.”
    She’d noticed. This morning, Madison had squinted for some time
at her computer monitor. Eventually she’d zoomed in on the faces that interested
her, including Joseph Troyer’s. His hairline had undeniably receded. What hair
he had left was graying, but she thought he’d been blond. At the time the
picture was snapped, he was