“Ethan…”

He started slowly at first, just gentle laps at her sensitive sex, long, slow licks from hood to the opening of her body. But Mary’s body responded quickly, writhing beneath him, twisting, her fingers leaving his hair to find herself. Ethan said something sexy and dirty as she opened the slick, hot folds at her core, then nuzzled and suckled at the taut bud that ached so badly. Following her rhythm, his pace quickened, moving with the thrust of her hips, until she arched her back and called out raw, insatiable moans over and over again, shuddering against his mouth.

Completely exhausted now, Mary curled over on her side and released a heavy, satisfied sigh, even smiling lazily when Ethan lay facing her on his side.

“I want to stay,” he said.

“The bed’s too small,” she joked.

He draped one muscular thigh over her hips, pulling himself closer. “Is it?”

And they fell asleep that way.

The weather had been sketchy all morning, but miraculously by eleven o’clock the sun had pushed its way through the clouds and had started to warm the sand. Right alongside the staff, Mary helped set up tables, chairs, chaises and umbrellas, all in festive shades of blue-and-white stripes. The beach had been combed beautifully, leaving only the whitest, softest sand for their party, and when noon hit and the guests began to arrive, Mary breathed a sigh of relief. Despite the morning gloom and a night of amazing sex that had left her bone weary, she’d pulled it off.

Dressed in a simple though elegant navy-blue sun-dress and white hat, Mary walked from one station to another, making sure the drinks were flowing and the food was getting out in a timely manner. Barring one strange and obviously experimental plate of baked-bean custard that she immediately had the waiter send back to base camp, everything looked perfect.

Just as she was inspecting the barbecue grills and the delicious scents wafting from each, Ethan came up behind her and took her hand. She smiled instantly at his touch, and a warm sensation came over her heart as she recalled this morning, waking up together in a haze of touchy, feely, romantic sweetness, complete with breakfast and a killer make-out session at the door as they each complained about how late they were going to be but not really giving a damn.

“Twenty minutes into the party and I have two potential clients flying to Minneapolis next week for meetings,” he said, brushing a kiss to her ear. “You’re amazing.”

He looked calm, relaxed and deadly handsome in white pants and black polo shirt, and Mary felt a strange sense of pride, as if they were actually together. “It’s not me, it’s the mojitos,” she joked.

“No, it’s you,” he insisted, his blue eyes flashing with admiration. “Or maybe it’s me around you.”

“That’s a nice thing to say,” Mary said a little shyly, trying to ease her hand from his in case anyone was watching them. She didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea, especially Ethan. She had never been the kind of woman to have expectations, and no matter how much she wanted to curl into this man and whisper her feelings against his chest, she wasn’t about to lay that kind of pressure on him. She may have come to a realization last night about what she had been missing, what she wanted now and how they’d both been stuck in a past that had ruled their actions. But Ethan might not have come to any realizations except that the two of them had just had great sex.

Whatever his beliefs, Ethan held firm to Mary’s hand as they walked over to the bar, greeting guests along the way. It was odd. In all the years Mary had been one of NRR’s partners, she’d never felt like an actual wife to a client, or wanted to be, until today. For brief moments she even caught herself imagining that she and Ethan were a couple as they circled the crowd.

“I should go and speak with the chef,” she told Ethan after about twenty minutes of crowd watching. “We’re running low on a few things.”

Ethan nodded but didn’t release her hand immediately. “Before you go, I have to ask you something.”

“Okay.”

“I feel like an ass-a romantic ass.”

“A whole new thing for you?”

“You bet.” Chuckling, he drove a hand through his hair. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

Pleasure circled her belly, and she grinned at him. “I seem to remember us agreeing to something…after the party ended.”

He gave her a mock scowl. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do. Should I refresh your memory?”

“If you say one word about that conversation, I’ll have to take drastic action.”

Biting her lip to keep from laughing, she said, “After the party ended we were both supposed to-”

Before she could say another word, Ethan hauled her into his arms and kissed her hard and quick. “Don’t make me take this to an obscene level in front of all these people,” he warned against her mouth. “I’ll ruin my reputation.”

Mary laughed, a warm, rich sound that totally conveyed how happy he was making her in that moment. “Wasn’t I supposed to take off just as soon as the last guest departed?”

“Oh, you asked for it,” he said wickedly, taking her hand and slipping behind the bar where it was shady and devoid of party guests.

In seconds Mary had her arms around his neck as he kissed her with all the passion of the night before. When they finally came up for air, Ethan’s eyes were glazed and hot and his voice was ragged with emotion. “Whatever we have going here, I want more of it.”

All she could do was kiss him, passionately and without holding back.

He held her face in his hands. “Tell me you want that, too.”

“I want that, but I’m a little scared.”

“Of what?”

“All that’s happened.”

“That’s over, Mary. Can’t we decide to forget about it and leave it in the past?”

“I think we’ve both left too much in the past. Don’t you think it’s time to deal with it?”

His brow furrowed with frustration just as a loud trill erupted from Mary’s pants pocket. With a quick look of apology, she grabbed her cell phone and flipped it open. “Hello.”

“Mary, it’s your grandmother.”

“Grandmother, how are you?”

“Your grandfather has died.”

Her heart sunk into her stomach. “What?”

“The funeral is Tuesday. You’ll be here?”

“Yes, of course,” she said quickly, uncomfortable with her grandmother’s unemotional way of giving news. “How did it-”

“I will see you Tuesday,” Grace continued brusquely. “St. Agnes, downtown. 10:00 a.m.”

She hung up almost immediately after Mary said that she would see her at the church. Still in shock, Mary gripped the phone in her fist and stared at the sand.

“What’s wrong?” Ethan asked gently.

“My grandfather died.” Why was she feeling so blown away? She and Lars Harrington had never been close, but for some reason the news of his death reminded Mary of her mother’s death, and of how short life really was.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan said soberly. “How did it happen?”

“I have no idea.”

He didn’t push her for more. “When are you leaving?”

“Right away. Tonight.”

He nodded. “I’m going with you.”

“No,” she said quickly, not sure why she didn’t jump at the offer, but sensing in her gut that Ethan Curtis around her family right now might not be the greatest idea. “You have business to finish up here, people to see and deals to make. It’s the reason why we came to Mackinac Island in the first place.”

“All of that can wait a few days.”

She eased away from him, from his embrace and the intimacy they’d shared only moments ago. “And lose momentum? No way. It was our plan, anyway, that I was going to leave today and you were going to stay. Let’s stick with the plan, for now anyway.”

Ethan wasn’t a mysterious man; he said what he thought and didn’t apologize for it. With an understanding but not altogether amused grin, he said, “You’re almost as good at this as me.”

“Good at what?”

“Pretending you don’t give a damn.”

They said nothing further as they walked back into the eye of the party.

The cemetery looked like an English garden, with buckets of daisies and vases of tulips and roses everywhere you looked. The woman next to Mary at the grave site had been nervous about what to say to Lars Harrington’s granddaughter. She had bypassed the usual offers of sympathy and instead had gone on to explain that Sunday was the heaviest day for visitors to the cemetery, and that all the guilty relatives brought flowers. After a quick, tight-lipped smile to the woman, Mary had moved to the opposite side of the grave, to stand alongside her grandmother, aunt and cousins.

As the priest spoke, Mary gripped the stems of her lilacs-a flower her grandmother had always called “peasant flora” as they grew in just about anyone’s backyard-recalling the day that she and her father had buried her mother. The weather had been far better than today, full sunshine and a heavy breeze, but the mood felt similar and, Mary noticed, some of the same crowd was there. But no one except Mary and Hugh had shed a tear that day, no one had left that cemetery broken the way they had.

Staring at the casket as it was lowered into the ground, Mary wondered if she’d actually healed from that whole ordeal: the illness and the loss. She’d always been so worried about fixing her father and helping him to get over his grief that she hadn’t even looked at her own. No wonder she’d allowed herself to take that deal of Ethan’s-she’d been a little out of her mind.

Ethan. Warmth spread through her and she wrapped her arms around herself. She missed him, missed sparring with him, lying in his arms, feeling alive. It had been a few days since she’d spoken to him, since he’d kissed her goodbye at the ferry and returned to the island.

Mary glanced up and spotted Tess and Olivia standing next to the woman who’d voiced the inappropriate cemetery comment. The two women looked quiet and sad, and even though she hadn’t asked them to attend, Mary was thankful for their presence and support. And they weren’t the only ones offering their support, Mary noticed as she shifted her gaze to the back of the crowd behind her partners.

Conservatively dressed in a black suit and bright-blue tie, Ethan Curtis stood apart from all the others, staring at her, his gaze solemn as Bible verses were read. At first, Mary felt a jump of excitement at the sight of him, then beside her, her grandmother opened her purse and noisily slipped out a tissue, which she used to dab her eyes. This probably wasn’t good. Grace wouldn’t want him here and might create a scene.

As soon as the service ended, Mary hustled over to him. He took her hand and kissed it. “I thought you might need…something. I wasn’t sure exactly what, so I came instead.”

“Thank you,” she said, wanting to curl into his arms and let him comfort her. But she knew this wasn’t the time or the place, and she needed to get him out of there before he was verbally attacked by her grandmother.

But unfortunately she wasn’t quick enough.

“What is he doing here?”

It was as if a cold wind had blown in, encircling them like a tornado. Mary’s grandmother walked up to them. She stared hard at Ethan, a sneer on her weary face.

“He came as a friend, Grandmother,” Mary quickly tried to explain. “And-”

“He’s no friend to this family,” Grace snarled. “Your grandfather would be appalled.”

“Grandmother, please-”

“You don’t need to defend me, Mary,” Ethan said calmly, then turned to Grace. “I was offering a little support to a friend, that’s all.”

Her eyes narrowed into nasty slits. “The blue-collar trash that took his company from him.” She turned on Mary. “How could you allow this?”

“I didn’t. I’m not. I-”

“Don’t bother, Mary,” Ethan said with a mild sigh before turning around and walking away.

“I’m surprised at you,” Grace uttered to Mary when he was gone.

“And I wish I could say I’m surprised at you,” Mary said tightly.

“You will not speak to me in that tone, young-”

“I understand that today is a difficult day, Grandmother,” Mary said, feeling strong and in control with this woman for the first time in her life. “But I won’t allow you to speak to my friends that way anymore. If you want a relationship with me, you’ll need to restrain yourself in the future.”

Leaving her grandmother standing there, mouth open, Mary went after Ethan. She caught up to him on top of the hill overlooking her grandfather’s grave site. “I’m sorry. It’s her grief talking.”

“Then she’s been grieving for a long time,” he muttered.

“This is why I didn’t want you to come here,” she explained. “I knew she’d-”

“Stop trying to protect me, Mary. I don’t need it.”