Chapter One

      It was lust, Amy Logan decided as she pressed the dough into the pie crust with extra fervor. Pure and simple lust.

      After all, it would be unnatural to live with such a handsome man for three years and not have the occasional urge to see him naked.

      Having no sex in years probably didn’t help, either, Amy thought, her lips twisting upward in a wry smile. Or the fact that this morning she’d slipped upstairs to get Emma her backpack and caught him just out of the shower.

      Oh, he’d been perfectly presentable with a Turkish towel wrapped firmly around his waist. And she’d certainly seen him with his shirt off before.

      Every summer he went to the pool at the country club with her and Emma at least a couple of times.

      But there was something different about knowing that he’d been naked only moments before. Something about seeing the droplets of water clinging to his broad chest. Something about smelling that delicious mixture of soap, shampoo and clean masculine flesh.

      Amy inhaled deeply. Even now if she closed her eyes, she could still—

      “Got any coffee left?”

      Amy’s eyes popped open and she stilled, grateful she faced the wall. Otherwise the object of her desires might think she was having a sensual experience with a pie crust.

      Schooling her features into what she hoped was a nonchalant expression, Amy turned.

      Dan Major stood in the center of the large modern kitchen wearing her favorite suit. The cut emphasized his broad shoulders and lean hips and the navy color brought out the brilliant blue of his eyes. Still damp from the shower, his short dark hair fell into a careless wave on his forehead.

      He was an inch or two over six feet and easily the most handsome man she’d ever known. It only made sense that she’d want to see him naked. What didn’t make sense was why that desire had taken so long to surface.

      She and the hunky widower had lived side by side for almost three years. Amy had always considered Dan a good friend. But over the past six months she’d found herself thinking of him in a different way, seeing him not just as her employer and friend but as a desirable man.

      “Amy?”

      His lips curved upward and she realized with a start that she’d been staring.

      Without a word, she reached over and lifted the pot from the warmer. “Can I pour you a cup?”

      “I can get my own,” he protested as he pulled out a chair and took a seat at the table.

      Amy smiled. Dan was the quintessential modern man with one major exception. Despite being only thirty-four and having been raised in a progressive twoincome family, Dan rarely helped out around the house.

      Unfortunately she had only herself to blame. She’d refused his offers of help so many times, he’d quit asking. The truth was she loved to pamper him and Emma. Keeping his house spotless and clothes laundered filled her with immense satisfaction. She prided herself on the fact that he could always count on a well-balanced, home-cooked meal at the end of the day.

      A successful architect at one of Chicago’s largest and most prestigious firms, Dan alternated between working in the office or from home.

      His schedule was so varied, Amy never knew if he’d be home, at the office, or out meeting with clients. It didn’t really affect her. Emma was in first grade this year and gone all day. The only difference was if Dan was home she’d make his lunch and maybe offer a snack in the afternoon.

      After all, that’s what he was paying her for; that and taking care of his young daughter, Emma. And not only did he pay her, he paid her very well. With the extra money she saved by living-in, she’d been able to get enough cash together to start a small catering business.

      Last year when she’d shown Dan her business plan, he’d been surprised, then concerned. He’d asked her point-blank if she was planning to leave. But when she’d reassured him that this was just something extra she wanted to do for herself, he’d been supportive.

      Shortly after that he’d had the antiquated kitchen in the large older home remodeled. And best of all, he’d solicited her input and hadn’t batted an eye at her request for commercial-grade appliances.

      For now she limited her efforts to catering small parties on the weekends and providing specialty desserts to a couple of restaurants. But she held high hopes for the future. One day she’d make enough so she could have her own home—

      “I’d be happy to get my own coffee…”

      Dan’s bemused voice broke through her reverie pulling Amy back to the present. She glanced down at the coffeepot she still held loosely in her hand. Ignoring Dan’s teasing comment, Amy quickly poured a cup and set the steaming brew in front of him. No need to ask if he wanted cream or sugar. She had his likes and dislikes memorized.

      “Cinnamon roll?” she asked, appealing to his sweet tooth. “I made them this morning. Or I could whip up some bacon and eggs? It would only take a second—”

      “I’m afraid this will have to do.” Dan glanced at the clock on the wall, took a hasty sip of coffee and pushed back his chair. “I have a meeting at the office at nine and I should’ve been gone by now.”

      At the first scrape of the chair legs against the hardwood floor, Amy sprang into action. Grabbing the travel mug from the cupboard, she filled it with the rich Columbian blend that was his favorite.

      By the time she was done he was already in the doorway. He turned. “I should be home early, around five-thirty.”

      Amy let her gaze sweep over him, like it did over Emma every morning, making sure everything was in place. She frowned.

      “Wait.” She popped the lid on the travel mug and quickly crossed the room. But instead of handing him the coffee, she placed it on the counter and stepped close. “Your tie needs some help.”

      Grabbing the silk fabric, she loosened the off-center knot and with well-practiced ease, quickly retied it. But instead of taking a step back, she let her fingers linger.

      Dan