“I know how to do the wash,” she said. “I used to watch Sarah do it. She used to let me push the buttons and turn the dials.”

“Good,” Marcus said. “Then this should go quickly.”

He dragged the duffel bag inside the door and dumped the contents into a wire basket on wheels. Eden smiled as she watched him pick through the laundry. Their clothes were all jumbled together, and anyone walking by might think they were a couple, perhaps even husband and wife.

A tiny thrill raced through her at the thought. What would it be like to make a life with Marcus? She’d been so careful not to allow herself such thoughts, but the longer she spent with him, the more she enjoyed the silly fantasy playing out in her head.

They shared an incredible physical attraction, so their life in bed would never be dull. But was there something beyond that between them? And if there was, how would they go about discovering it?

Eden boosted herself up on a nearby washing machine, kicking off her flip-flops and tucking her bare feet beneath her. “I know why you wanted to do the laundry,” she said. “So you could play with my underwear and I wouldn’t think you were pervy.”

He picked up one of her bras and fingered the lace and satin. “I’d rather play with what’s underneath your underwear,” Marcus said in a matter-of-fact voice.

Eden giggled, removing her sunglasses and glancing around the empty Laundromat. She grabbed the front of Marcus’s T-shirt and pulled him toward her. “We’re all alone here,” she said, straightening her legs on either side of his hips. She wrapped one leg around his thigh and drew him closer.

He gave her a skeptical look. “Eden, behave yourself.”

Unfazed, Eden took his hand and slid it beneath her skirt, pressing his palm to her inner thigh. “Haven’t you ever done it in a public place?”

“Have you?”

She grinned and slid his hand higher. “Believe it or not, I haven’t. Contrary to the stories the press puts out, my sex life has not been terribly adventurous. What about you? Where’s the most exciting place you’ve ever done it?”

He gave her a wary glance. “I think my shower ranks right up there.”

“You haven’t been a very adventurous boy either,” she teased, her hand sliding down to his crotch.

“You asked for the most exciting place, not the most public,” he said, leaning into her until her palm pressed fully against him. “Are you doing this just to get out of helping me with the laundry?”

Eden leaned forward and took his lower lip between her teeth, tugging at it. “I’m really excited about doing the laundry. Can’t you tell?” She moved his hand up a bit higher, enjoying the game and wondering what Marcus’s limits were. How far would he go to possess her? Would his desire be so overwhelming that he’d risk making love to her right here? Or did he have secret boundaries? His hand slid up until it rested at the juncture of her thighs.

Marcus gasped, his gaze meeting hers. “You’re not wearing underwear,” he said.

“All my panties are in the wash. What about you?” She slipped her hand down the front of his jeans. “Oh, I guess yours must be in the wash, too.”

He nodded, holding his breath as her fingers danced along the length of his penis. Almost instantly he began to grow hard, and Eden left her hand where it was, enjoying his discomfort.

“Don’t mess with me,” Marcus warned, sliding his thumb between the soft folds of her sex. He found her clitoris and rubbed it gently.

“Then don’t mess with me,” she countered.

She waited for him to stop, but he’d obviously decided to accept her challenge. Eden smiled as he continued to caress her, surprised at how easy it was to become aroused even in a public place.

Her fingers closed around him and she leaned forward, whispering into his ear. “I know you want me,” she murmured. “I can feel it.”

“I do,” he replied. “But not as much as you want me.”

She playfully bit his earlobe. “We’ll see about that. I think you want me badly enough to imagine me naked. Imagine me lying on your bed, ready for you. Think of it,” she whispered. “You could touch me wherever you wanted. You like to touch me, Marcus, don’t you?”

He groaned as she began to stroke him. A desperate “yes” was all Marcus could manage. He slipped his finger inside her again, then withdrew it in a rhythm that was all too familiar to Eden. Maybe he’d been right. Maybe she did want him more.

The door rattled, and they both turned and watched as an elderly woman walked inside, a wicker basket tucked beneath one arm. Eden waited for him to stop, but he didn’t. Instead his caress became more intense. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized he intended to win the game at all costs. To a casual observer, it wasn’t clear what they were doing. Marcus’s hand was hidden beneath her skirt and Eden’s was protected by the shadow of his opposite arm.

She caught his gaze and smiled. “You want to be inside me, don’t you? Do you remember how that feels?”

He nodded. “Do you?”

“Hard and thick,” she said.

“Tight,” he countered. “And warm.”

Eden felt herself grow faint. For a moment, the power shifted as a wave of pleasure raced through her. A moan slipped from her lips and she fought the temptation to surrender.

“Go ahead,” Marcus urged. “There’s no reason to stop yourself.”

Eden bit her bottom lip hard, the pain making her focus. “You go first.”

“You can’t make me,” he said.

“I can.” Eden leaned forward. “Just imagine my mouth on you. Soft…and warm…my tongue teasing until you can’t think of anything else but how good it would feel to come. If we were alone, I’d do that for you. You’d lie back and close your eyes and I’d-”

Marcus’s free hand found her nape, and he pulled her into a kiss, his moan lost between them. An instant later he came in her hand, her caress suddenly damp and sticky with his orgasm. She enjoyed a short moment of triumph, a satisfied smile on her lips.

The first spasm caught her by surprise, and after that she had no choice but to capitulate. He watched as she came, knowing that he hadn’t lost by much.

“You’re a bad girl, Eden Ross.”

“I can’t seem to help myself,” she said as she withdrew her hand from his jeans.

He arched his eyebrow, his hand sliding along her thigh. “And I was planning to take you to the hardware store after we were finished here.”

“Hardware?” Eden sighed. “That sounds very intriguing, Marcus. There are tools and all kinds of hard things at the hardware store, aren’t there? When can we leave?”

Marcus glanced around. “I think we’d better finish the laundry.” He winced as he reached out and began to toss clothes into the machine next to her, a damp spot seeping through the front of his jeans.

“You could take those off,” Eden suggested, “and toss them in the wash.”

“Don’t you think we’ve gone far enough for your first visit to the Laundromat?”

“You’re right. I’m completely satisfied with the experience,” she said. “How about you?”

He chuckled softly. “The evidence of that is all over your fingers.” He grabbed a towel from the pile and took her hand to wipe it dry. When he was finished, he held up the towel. “Warm water. Towels and sheets go in warm water. Unless they’re white-then they go in hot.”

“Interesting,” Eden said. “Why?”

Marcus opened his mouth, then paused. “I’m not sure. Because it says so on the detergent bottle.” He picked up her bra. “I think this is what they refer to as a delicate. I don’t have any delicates of my own, but they go in cold.”

“Good to know,” Eden said. She watched him fill three washers with clothes, add detergent, then select the proper temperature for each. As far as Eden could tell, she could have learned how to do laundry by reading the detergent bottle. There wasn’t much to it. But the sex was great.

“Now you just put the quarters into the slots and the machines will start.” He shoved his hand in his jeans pocket and winced again.

“Need some help?” Eden teased.

“I think you’ve done enough in there already,” he said.

Eden giggled, then picked up the copy of In Style that she’d brought along to read. Casually she flipped through it, glancing at the photos and finding nothing of interest. But one photo made her pause, and she stared at it for a long time, her breath frozen in her throat.

“What’s wrong?” Marcus asked.

“Nothing,” she said.

Marcus slowly pulled the magazine from her hand and looked at the picture. “It’s you,” he said, “with some guy.”

Eden nodded. “His name is Andreas. He’s-”

“He’s got his hand on your ass,” Marcus said.

“He’s my boyfriend,” she finished.

Marcus glanced back down at the photo, scowling. “You have a boyfriend?”

“I did,” Eden said. “Up until the time I took off. I didn’t want to face him once everything hit the press. His family is very…well, they’re old European money. His father is a baron and his mother is a Greek princess. They weren’t fond of me, but Andreas loved me.”

“Maybe he still does,” Marcus said.

“I can’t see how.” Eden took the magazine from his hands and studied the photo. “That was such a great party,” she said. “That was Cannes. The film festival. We drank so much champagne, and then a bunch of us went down to the beach and ripped off all our clothes and jumped into the sea.”

“Sounds like fun,” Marcus said, his voice flat.

“I’m having more fun doing the laundry,” she offered. But her words didn’t seem to pacify him. “I don’t miss him.” She drew a deep breath. “I don’t. He was my boyfriend, but it wasn’t like it is with you.”

“You weren’t sleeping with him?” Marcus asked.

“No, I was. But we didn’t…we weren’t-” She cursed softly. “It just wasn’t the same as it is with you.”

He nodded, distractedly rummaging through the pile of laundry. Frowning, he straightened. “I forgot fabric softener,” he said. “I’m just going to run and get some.”

Without another word, he turned and strode to the door. Eden watched through the plate-glass window of the Laundromat as he disappeared down the sidewalk. He’d never seemed squeamish about her past before. Why was he so touchy now?

Eden put her sunglasses back on and picked up the magazine, turning to the photo. She tried to recall the details of that night. It had been fun, but nothing about it had been memorable. In contrast, she remembered all the little details of her time with Marcus: what he’d worn that night on the beach, the sound of his voice when he’d first said her name, the color of his eyes when he’d looked out at the water. Every sensation of every caress was burned into her brain so deeply that it had become a part of her.

No, she wasn’t falling in love with him. From the very start she’d decided that their relationship would be just about sex and nothing more. And until now it had been. She glanced down at the photo again, then closed her eyes, imagining Marcus standing beside her, smiling for the cameras.

Eden’s eyes snapped open and she shook her head. Of all the fantasies that she’d imagined with Marcus, that one was the least likely to come true.

THE NOONDAY SUN WAS high overhead, beating down on Marcus’s back. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm, then grabbed the crowbar from his father’s hand.

“Your ma says you’ve found yourself a new lady,” Paddy said, watching him over the top of the crate.

Marcus worked the nails that held the crate closed. They’d returned from the Laundromat a few hours before. He’d left Eden upstairs with the employment section of the Providence newspaper, determined to help his father. “What else does she say?”

“That she has a name that ties the tongue in knots and that she’s quite fetching.” Paddy raised his eyebrow.

Marcus chuckled. “Fetching?”

“Pretty,” Paddy amended.

“She is,” Marcus agreed. He levered the crowbar against the corner of the crate and popped the top off. “Is that all you have to say?”

“Do you want to hear more?” Paddy asked.

He turned and faced his father, bracing his hands on the edge of the crate. “Not really.”

Paddy shrugged. “There it is. Enough said.”

They continued to work in silence for a few more minutes, Marcus’s mind swirling with a question he’d been anxious to ask. He took a deep breath. “How did you know with Ma? What was it that made you realize you were in love?”

Paddy seemed as surprised by the question as Marcus was that he’d asked it. It was no wonder. Marcus and his father had rarely talked of personal matters. The three youngest Quinn boys had run their lives on their own for so long that Paddy had been left on the sidelines. And Marcus had always taken his questions and concerns to Ian and Dec. But they were in no position to offer advice on this subject. And he was in no position to ask them.