But she overlooked it in the thrill of spreading the glue for the laminate on her first station.

Even with the windows open for ventilation, the fumes were strong.

"Good thing we're working in small sections," Brad commented. "If we were doing long stretches of this, without a fan in here, we'd be buzzed before we were finished."

"I got carried away redoing my kitchen counters at home a couple years ago. Got giddy as a Saturday night drunk and had to go outside and lie down on the grass."

He studied her face, noted that while she was a little flushed, beautifully so, her eyes were clear. "You start feeling it, let me know."

"I'm fine." She touched a fingertip to the glue. "Nearly done here."

'Too bad. I wouldn't mind seeing you giddy."

She shifted her gaze to his as she straightened up from the counter. "Plenty of fresh air in here."

"You're a little flushed, though." He stroked the side of his finger over her cheek. "You have the most incredible skin."

"It's, ah, like advertising." She didn't know if she'd been flushed before, but she could feel the heat rising now. "I use a lot of the products I'm going to carry. There's this wonderful serum. It's time release."

"Is that so?" His lips curved a little as he trailed that finger down her throat. "Seems to be working."

"I don't want to carry anything I don't believe in."

"What do you do with your mouth?"

At the question, it dropped open. "What?"

"What do you use? Your lips are soft." He rubbed the pad of his thumb over them. "Smooth. Tempting."

"There's a balm that I—don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Don't kiss me. I can't get mixed up this way. And we've got work."

"You're right about that. But work has to stop sometime. Glue's probably set up enough. You ready?"

She nodded. Fresh air or not, she was just a little lightheaded now. And could put the cause of it solely on him. She imagined he knew it—knew just how those long, deep looks, those casually intimate touches affected a woman.

So she would just have to toughen up against them before they got her in trouble.

Together, they lifted the laminate. It was an exacting process, one that required teamwork and precision to create a smooth surface. Once glue hit glue, there was no turning back.

When it was down, the edges routed smooth, and the clamps tightened every few inches to hold it in place while it set hard, she stepped back.

Yes, it was right, she'd been right to curve the edges, to give it that subtle flow. Simple, practical, yet with a fluidity that gave it a touch of class.

The clients might not notice the details, but they would notice the effect.

"It's a good look," Brad said from beside her. "Smart to put the holes in for the cords of those gizmos you people use."

"They're called hair dryers and curling irons." "Right. The way you've got it, the cords won't be dangling everywhere, tangling up. Gives you an uncluttered look."

"I want it to seem upscale but relaxed."

"Just what do you plan to do to people in the other rooms?"

"Oh, secret rituals." She gave an airy wave of her hand that made him smile. "And when I earn enough to pump some real money back into the place, I'm going to put a Swedish shower and a hydrotherapy tub in the bathroom. Turn it into a kind of water therapy space. But that's down the road. For now, I'm going to set up to build the second station."

She worked like a Trojan, Brad thought. It was more than knowing what she wanted and how to get it, more even than a willingness to sweat to get it.

It was, under it all, a belief that she had to.

She stopped only to check on her son, to see that he was fed and safe.

By the time they were preparing the laminate for the second station, the others were packing up to call it a day.

Malory popped upstairs and fisted her hands on her hips. "Wow! Every time I walk around this place, there's something new. Zoe, this is looking great. The colors are just fabulous. This is the station, right?" She walked over to study the completed one. "I can't believe you built it."

"I had some help with that." Absently, she rolled her stiff shoulders as she moved over to join Malory. "It really looks fabulous, doesn't it? I know I could have bought something for about the same cost, but it wouldn't have been exactly right. How's it coming downstairs?"

"Floors are done, kitchen's painted." As if she'd just remembered she was still wearing it, Malory tugged off the bright blue kerchief she used to protect her hair. "First coat's on the cabinets, and the appliances have been scrubbed to within an inch of their lives."

"I got so involved up here. I should've given you and Dana a hand with the kitchen."

"We had plenty of hands, thanks." She combed her fingers through her dark blond curls to fluff them. "We're all heading back to our place for some bucket chicken. You ready to pack it in?"

"Actually, I'd just like to finish this. Just send Simon up here, and we'll come by a little later."

"Why don't I take him with me? He's already outside fooling around with Flynn and Moe."

"Oh. Well. I don't—"

"He's fine, Zoe. Just come by when you're done. I'll try to save you a drumstick. You, too, Brad."

"Oh, you don't have to stay." As Zoe turned, Malory winked at Brad, then headed downstairs again.

"You want to finish this station."

"Yeah, but I didn't mean to put you on the spot."

"When you put me on the spot, I'll let you know. Ready to glue this up?"

To save time, she didn't argue.

The second station was finished and clamped, left to stand by the first while they picked up and put away tools. They left the windows open an inch.

Before she could do so herself, he picked up her cooler. "That should do it for today."

"I really appreciate the help. If you'd just leave that on the porch, I'm going to take a look at the floors, and the kitchen, and make sure everything's locked up before I head out."

"I'll wait. I'd like to see the work myself."

She started down the stairs, then stopped, turned around. "Are you looking out for me? Is that what this is? Because I can take care of myself."

He shifted the cooler. "Yes, I'm looking out for you. Though there's no doubt you're capable of taking care of yourself, and your son, your friends, and perfect strangers, should it be called for."

"If I'm so damn capable, then I don't need you looking out for me. So why are you?"

"I enjoy it. In addition I enjoy just looking at you, period, because you're a beautiful woman and I'm very attracted to you. Since you've shown no signs of being slow or stupid, I'm sure you're aware I'm attracted to you. But if there's any doubt in your mind, you could keep going down these damn stairs so I can set this cooler down and demonstrate."

"I asked a very simple question," she returned. "I didn't ask for a demonstration of anything."

She marched down the steps, and had just turned sharply toward the kitchen when she heard the thump of her cooler hitting the floor.

She didn't have time to react, not when her feet cleared the floor, then slapped down again as she was spun around and pushed back against the wall.

She caught the temper in his eyes, turning them hot and almost black. It brought an equally hot tickle to her throat that was both fear and anger and just enough arousal to confuse the mix. "Take care of yourself," he challenged. "Then we'll move on to the demonstration."

She stared into his eyes, waiting until he'd eased in just a little more. Then she brought her knee up between his legs, lightning swift, and stopped a hairbreath from doing serious damage.

He flinched, and she found it immensely satisfying.

"Okay. First let me commend you on your really exquisite control." He didn't move. They both understood it would take only one quick jerk to drop him to his knees. "Second, let me thank you, sincerely, for using it in this case."

"I'm not some helpless hick."

"I never thought of you as either helpless or a hick." Abruptly, the situation, and his position in it, struck him as ridiculously funny. He started to grin, then to laugh until he simply lowered his forehead to hers. "I don't know how you manage to piss me off, but you do."

He gentled his grip on her shoulders, then released her to brace his hands on the wall on either side of her head. "Would you mind lowering that knee? At least a few inches. It's making me nervous."

"That's the idea." But she complied. "I don't know why this is funny."

"Neither do I. Jesus, Zoe, you wind me up, one way or the other. Tell me something. Am I not supposed to find you beautiful? Am I not supposed to be attracted to you?"

"How am I supposed to answer that?"

"It's a puzzler, isn't it?" His gaze skimmed over her face, down to her mouth. "Try thinking about it from my end."

"Move back some." Because the breath was backing up in her lungs, she tapped her fingers against his chest. "I can't talk to you like this."

"Okay. Just one second." He brushed his lips over hers in a kind of whispered promise that had her stomach fluttering.

Then he stepped back.

"It'd be easy to let you." Not sure if she was steady yet, she stayed leaning against the wall. 'To let myself. I've got needs, normal needs, just like anyone. And I haven't been with a man in over a year—going on two."

"I don't care if you were with a man yesterday. I'm interested in now." "Well, I haven't been. There are reasons for that."

"Simon."

She nodded. "He's the big reason. I'm not going to let any man into my life that I wouldn't let into his."

"You know I wouldn't hurt him." Temper began to edge back. "It's goddamn insulting for you to imply that I would."

"I know you wouldn't, so there's no point in you getting fired up over that. But I'm a reason, too, and I've got a right to be careful with myself. You're not looking to hold my hand or give me a couple of sweet kisses in the moonlight, Bradley."

"It'd be a start."

"That's not where it would end, and we both know it. I don't see the point in starting something if I don't know I can finish it. I don't know if going to bed with you is going to be good for me. I don't know if going to bed with you, if you wanting me to, is because of those normal needs or because of what's going on around us."

"You think I'm attracted to you because of the key?"

"What if you are?" She lifted her hands, palms up. "How would you feel about being used that way? The fact is, Bradley, you and I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for the key. We don't come from the same place. And I don't mean the Valley."

"No."

"We don't have anything in common, except for the key."

"The key," he agreed. "Friends who matter to both of us, a place that holds my roots and where you've set yours. A need to build something for ourselves. Then there's a young boy. He happens to belong to you, but he's hooked me. With or without you, he'd have hooked me. Do you get that?"

She could only nod.

"There's more, but let's just toss in the sexual chemistry for now. Add all that up, it seems like some fairly solid common ground."

"I don't know what to say to you half the time, or how to say it."

"Maybe you shouldn't think about it so hard." He held out a hand. "Let's go look at the kitchen. If we don't get out of here soon, there's not going to be anything left in that chicken bucket but crumbs."

SHE was grateful he'd let the subject drop. She just couldn't separate her thoughts and feelings, her concerns and her needs into separate areas. Not right now.

She was grateful, too, that the time she'd spent at Flynn's had involved fried chicken and relaxation without focusing on the key.

She had nothing to offer yet, and there was too much information, too many questions, circling around in her mind to line up in an intelligent conversation.

They would need to have a meeting soon, all of them, but she wanted a little time to sort through everything first.

Both Malory and Dana had come up with theories quickly. Those theories had been refined and re-angled and changed over the four weeks, but they'd formed a foundation.

And, Zoe thought, she had nothing.

So she would spend the evening going over the clue, all of their notes, taking herself back, step by step, through the first two quests. Somewhere in there were answers.