She had a sinking feeling that she understood exactly what he was talking about, and she sank down on the corner of her desk. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Who knew flexible silicone came in so many colors?"

Her sex toy catalog. He'd taken it months ago. She'd hoped he'd forgotten it by now.

"Most of these products seem to be hypoallergenic," Heath went on. "That's good, I guess. Some with batteries, some without. I suppose that's a matter of preference. There's a harness on this one. That's pretty kinky. And… Son of a bitch! It says this one is dishwasher safe. As much as I like- I'm sorry, but there's just something unappetizing about that."

She should hang up, but she'd missed him so much. "Sean Palmer, is that you? If you don't stop talking dirty, I'm telling your mother."

He didn't bite. "The top of page fourteen… That model comes with some kind of pump. You've got the corner turned down, so you must be interested."

She was fairly sure she hadn't turned any pages down, but who knew?

"And how about this one with the suction cup? The question is, exactly what would you stick it to? A word of caution, sweetheart. You suction something like that to your bedroom window or, hell, the dashboard of your car-it's going to attract the wrong kind of attention."

She smiled.

"Just tell me one thing, Annabelle, and then I have to go." His voice dropped to a low, intimate note that made her shiver. "Why would a woman be so interested in an artificial one when the real thing works a hell of a lot better?"

As she searched for just the right comeback, he hung up. She took a few deep breaths, but they didn't begin to steady her. No matter how much she tried to inoculate herself, he got to her every time, which was the biggest reason of all why she couldn't afford these conversations.

The doorbell rang. Thank God, Dean was early. She jumped up from the desk and pressed her hands to her cheeks to cool herself off. Plastering a smile on her face, she opened the front door.

Heath stood on the other side.

"Happy birthday." He slipped his cell into his pocket, tossed her catalog down, and brushed her lips with a soft, quick kiss, which she could barely keep from returning.

"What are you doing here?"

"You look beautiful. More than beautiful. Unfortunately, your present won't get here until tomorrow, but I don't want you to think I forgot."

"What present? Never mind." She made herself block the doorway instead of opening her arms. "Dean's picking me up in ten minutes. I can't talk to you now."

He moved her out of the way so he could get inside. "I'm afraid Dean's indisposed. I'm taking his place. I like your dress."

"What are you talking about? I spoke to him three hours ago, and he was fine."

"Those stomach viruses come on fast."

"Bull. What have you done with him?"

"It wasn't me. It was Kevin. I don't know why he had to insist on watching game film with him tonight. Don't quote me, but your pal Kevin can be a real prick when he wants to." He nuzzled her neck, right behind her chandelier earring. "Damn, you smell good."

It took her a few beats too long to push herself away. "Does Molly know about this?"

"Not exactly. Unfortunately, Molly's gone over to the dark side along with her sister. Those two women are way too protective of you. It's me they should be worrying about. I don't know why they haven't figured out you can take care of yourself."

She liked knowing he understood that about her, but she still wouldn't give in to his smarmy agent's charm. "I don't want to go to my birthday party with you. As far as my family knows, you're still my client, so it would look a little odd. Besides, I want to go with Dean. Someone who'll impress them."

"And you think I won't?"

She took in his dark gray suit, probably Armani, his designer necktie, and tonight's watch, an incredible white gold Patek Philippe. Her family would roll on their backs and beg him to scratch their stomachs.

He knew he'd boxed her in. She saw it in his crafty smile. "Oh, all right," she said grouchily. "But I'm warning you now, my brothers are the most clueless, obnoxious, opinionated men you'll ever meet." She threw up her hands. "Why am I wasting my breath? You're going to love them."

And they loved him right back. Their shocked expressions when she walked into the Mayfair Club's walnut-paneled private dining room with Heath at her side fulfilled all her fantasies. First they checked to make sure he wasn't wearing high heels, then they mentally priced out his wardrobe. Even before introductions were exchanged, he was one of them, a certified member of the high-achievers' club.

"Mom and Dad, this is Heath Champion, and I know what you're thinking. It sounded phony to me, too. But he was born Campione, and you've got to admit the name Champion is good for marketing."

"Very good for marketing," Kate said approvingly. Her favorite bracelet, an engraved gold cuff, clinked against Nana's old charm bracelet. At the same time, she shot Annabelle an inquisitive glance, which Annabelle pretended not to see, since she still hadn't figured out how to explain why the man they knew as her most important client had shown up as her date.

Tonight Kate was clad in one of her St. John knit suits, the champagne color perfectly matching her ash blond hair, which she'd worn in a jaw-length Gena Rowlands pageboy for as long as Annabelle could remember. Her dad sported his favorite navy blazer, a white shirt, and a gray necktie the same color as what remained of his curly hair. Once it had been auburn like hers. An American flag pin graced his lapel, and as she hugged him, she drew in his familiar daddy scent: Brut shaving cream, dry-cleaning fluid, and well-scrubbed surgeon's skin.

Heath started pumping hands. "Kate, Chet, it's a pleasure."

Although Annabelle had met her parents earlier for breakfast, her brothers had only flown in a few hours ago, and she exchanged hugs with them. Doug and Adam had inherited their blond, blue-eyed good looks from Kate, although not her tendency to carry a few extra pounds at the waist. They were looking especially handsome tonight, hard-bodied and successful.

"Doug, you're the accountant, right?" Respect shone in Heath's eyes. "I heard you made VP at Reynolds and Peate. Very impressive. And, Adam… The top heart surgeon in St. Louis. It's an honor."

Her brothers were honored right back, and the men did a friendly little shoulder slapping. "Read about you in the paper…"

"You've built quite a reputation…"

"… amazing client roster you have."

Her sister-in-law used perfume like bug repellant, so Anna-belle hugged her last. Overly tanned, aggressively made-up, and undernourished, Candace wore a short black strapless dress to showcase her toned arms and trim calves. Her diamond studs were nearly as big as Sean Palmer's, but Annabelle still thought she looked like a horse.

Heath gave Candace his double whammy-sexy smile and patented dead-eyed sincerity. "Wow, Doug, how'd an ugly guy like you manage to land such a beauty?"

Doug, who knew exactly how good-looking he was, laughed. Candace gave a coquettish toss of her mahogany brown hair extensions. "The question is… How did a girl like Annabelle manage to talk a man like you into joining our silly little family party?"

Annabelle smiled sweetly. "I promised he could tie me up afterward and spank me."

Heath enjoyed that, but her mother huffed. "Annabelle, not everyone here is familiar with your sense of humor."

Annabelle turned her attention to the stranger in the room, Adam's latest conquest. Like the others, including his ex-wife, this one was well tailored and attractive with square features, a blunt-cut dark brown bob, and a total lack of charm. Just the sight of those thin, unsmiling lips announced that her brother had chosen still another emotionally robotic female.

"This is Dr. Lucille Menger." He slipped a protective arm around her shoulders. "Our very talented new pathologist."

Good job choice, Lucy. Not much need to worry about bedside manner.

Heath gave her a megawatt smile. "You and I seem to be the only outsiders tonight, so we'd better stick together. For all we know, these people could be serial killers."

Her parents and brothers chuckled, but Lucille looked mystified. Finally her mental fog cleared. "Oh, that's a joke."

Annabelle shot a quick look at Kate, but beyond the flicker of an eyebrow, her mother wasn't giving anything away. Annabelle's irritation grew. Her brother had a track record for choosing these humorless brainiacs, but did anybody stage an intervention for Dr. Adam? No, they did not. Only for Annabelle.

Heath looked boyishly repentant. "A bad joke, I'm afraid."

Lucille seemed relieved to know it wasn't her.

Kate always booked the Mayfair Club's second-floor private dining room for the Granger family's Chicago gatherings. Decorated like an English manor house with polished brass and chintz, the room offered a cozy seating area near a mullioned bay window that looked down on Delaware Place, and they settled there for cocktails and birthday presents. Doug and Can-dace presented her with a gift certificate for a makeover at a local salon. No mystery who'd come up with that idea. Adam gave her a new DVD player along with a collection of workout videos, thank you very much. When she unwrapped her parents' gift, she found an expensive navy suit she wouldn't have been caught dead wearing, but couldn't return because Kate had ordered it from her favorite working woman's boutique in St. Louis, and the manager would squeal.

"Every woman needs a power suit as she gets older," her mother said.

The corner of Heath's mouth twitched. "I have a gift for Annabelle, too. Unfortunately, it won't be ready until Monday."

Candace pressed him for details, but he refused to say more. Kate could no longer hold back her curiosity about why he was here. "We never mind when Annabelle shows up without a date, even though she says it makes her feel like a fifth wheel. As her client, you certainly had no obligation to be her escort, but… Well, I must say we're all glad you agreed to join us…?"

She ended her sentence with an implied question mark. Annabelle hoped Heath would somehow put an end to her mother's assumption that this was a mercy date for him, but he was more intent on playing the charm card. "It's my pleasure. I've been looking forward to meeting all of you. Annabelle's told me the most amazing stories about your banking career, Kate. You were a real trailblazer for women."

Kate melted all over him. "I don't know about that, but I will say things were a lot more difficult for women back then than they are now. I keep telling Annabelle that she doesn't know how lucky she is. These days, the only obstacles standing in the way of a woman's success are ones of her own making."

Zing.

"You've obviously taught her well," Heath said smoothly. "It's amazing what she's been able to create in such a short time. You must be enormously proud of her."

Kate looked hard at Heath to see if he was kidding. Can-dace snickered. Annabelle didn't exactly hate her sister-in-law, but she wouldn't be the first person standing in line if Candace turned up needing a kidney.

Kate reached across the arm of her chair to pat Annabelle's knee. "Tactfully put, Heath. My daughter has always been a free spirit. And you look lovely tonight, sweetheart, although it's too bad they didn't have that dress in black."

Annabelle sighed. Heath smiled, then turned his attention to Candace, who'd maneuvered a position on the leather sofa between him and Doug. "I understand that you and Doug have a gifted little boy."

Gifted? The most Annabelle had said about Jamison was that he'd learned to get everybody's attention by peeing on the living room rug. But the Granger clan ate it up.

Kate beamed. "He reminds me so much of Doug and Adam at that age."

Tiny penises?

"We're having him tested," Doug said. "We don't want him to be bored in school."

"He loves his nature enrichment class." A strand from Candace's hair extensions was sticking to her lip gloss, but she didn't seem to notice. "We're teaching him to recycle."

"It's amazing how well coordinated he is for a three-year-old," Adam said. "He's going to be quite an athlete."

Kate puffed up with maternal pride. "Doug and Adam were swimmers."

Annabelle had been a swimmer, too.

"Annabelle swam, too." Kate hooked a sickle of blond hair behind her ear. "Unfortunately, she didn't take to it like her brothers."

Translation: Annabelle had never won any medals. "I just had fun," she muttered, but no one was paying attention because her father had decided to enter the conversation.