Tommy Lee cocked one eyebrow and suppressed a grin. "Oh, you have, have you?"

She turned back to her brownies, giving an indignant sniff, while Tommy Lee's and Rachel's eyes met and shared an instant of powerful nostalgia. Memories tumbled back, of another time, another kitchen, two sun-drenched children scampering in to the gruff but loving maid who, like them, never questioned their rightful place together. Washed now in Callie Mae's benediction-the first, after facing so much opposition-they felt hopeful and ebullient. It was like stepping into a scene in which the action had been frozen twenty-four years ago and had been waiting all that time for them to walk on stage and bring about a happy conclusion.

Tommy Lee looped an arm around Callie Mae's shoulders and turned his attention toward the counter. "What're you cookin' up there, darlin'?"

"Why, just one o' your favorites. My prize-winnin' chocolate brownies with plenty of pecans, just how you like 'em."

"Whoo-ee!" He licked his lips. "Them's mighty hard to resist." Tommy Lee pointedly checked his watch, then let a grin crawl up one corner of his mouth. "And besides, it's a whole hour before supper." He snatched the spatula from Callie Mae's fingers and dug a bar from the corner of the pan, lifting it to lick an icicle of fresh frosting that oozed over the edge.

Callie Mae laughed, gave him a playful swat, and nodded in Rachel's direction. "You wanna do something, you git her to eat brownies. She's the one needs 'em!"

Tommy Lee turned around, smiling.

Rachel chuckled and said to him, "See what I've been putting up with all these years?"

"Mmm… Callie Mae is kind of mouthy, all right. She might not work out after all."

"She might not. On the other hand, I am rather used to her outspokenness. And you'll have to admit, she is a pretty decent cook."

Tommy Lee swallowed his mouthful of brownie and shrugged indifferently. "Yeah, these are all right, I guess."

"All right?" Callie Mae exploded, swinging around with her hands on her hips.

Tommy Lee took another nonchalant bite, grinned at Rachel, and asked teasingly, "Think we should tell her?" He wandered over and held the brownie to her lips.

She took a nibble, grinned, and returned conspiratorially, "I don't know. What do you think? Should we?"

"Tell me what?" Callie Mae insisted.

Rachel took a bigger bite of brownie and the frosting fell in a string down her lip. She reached up to swipe at it, but Tommy Lee waylaid her hand, then held the wrist while leaning forward to lick the frosting off. Without removing his eyes from Rachel's, he smiled and answered Callie Mae, "Might be a new job opening up for you."

"A new…?..." But Callie Mae's lips fell open and her eyes sparkled with speculation as she watched Tommy Lee lean down and place a lingering kiss on Rachel's uplifted mouth, the brownie all but forgotten in his fingertips.

He lifted his head lazily, and still gazing into Rachel's eyes, added, "Out at my place."

Callie Mae's beaming eyes rested on the two she'd loved for so long, as Rachel rose up to brush Tommy Lee's lips once more, then added dreamily, "Working for both of us."

Callie Mae rolled her eyes heavenward, threw her hands wide, and exclaimed, "Lord o' mercy… at last!" She watched them kiss again, and when they drew apart, they seemed to have forgotten anyone else in the room. "Hmph!" Callie Mae snorted. "I can see there ain't no need for me to hang around here no longer. Act like I don't count for nothin'…" She grumbled on in mock reprimand while whipping off her apron. "Person ain't never done teachin' children their manners… fine thing, bein' ignored." She threw open a pantry door, hung up the apron with a flourish, and swept up her purse. She was still muttering as the door slammed behind her.

At the sound, the pair in the kitchen seemed to come awake. They glanced at the door, then at each other, and laughed while Rachel flung her arms about Tommy Lee's neck.

"Everyone will know now," she said.

"Do you care?" he asked against her hair.

"No. All I care about is you… us. I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too… every minute."

Their mouths met again eagerly as he reached out blindly to set the brownie on the counter. His fingers were coated with chocolate, and when he lifted his heads to impatiently lick off a thumb she captured the hand and carried it from his pursed lips to her own, meticulously laving each finger, slipping it into her mouth with sensual slowness, aroused by the salt-sweet taste of him, by the heavy, hooded look that overtook his eyes as he watched. When the fingers were clean she ran her tongue down the palm of his hand and bit its heel, while his relaxed fingertips rested on her closed eyes. She kissed his wrist, the metal band of his watch warm beneath her lips, then moved beyond it to the soft warm skin of his inner elbow.

Suddenly he pulled her head to his chest, groaning softly, and beneath her ear she heard his pounding heart as his fingers plowed through her hair to contour her skull and cradle her head possessively.

She felt an outpouring of love, far too powerful to be voiced. And as she raised her eyes to his, she saw it returned a thousandfold. They stood close, caught in the shaft of late-afternoon sun melting through the window. It glinted off the golden rim of his glasses, scintillated from her open lips, gilded the gray above his ears. Had they loved this fully at sixteen? Perhaps it had seemed so then. But in this moment as they stood bound together by feelings so profound as to be voiceless, their lorn love of long ago seemed paltry by comparison.

She reached both hands up to slip off his glasses and set them beside the brownie on the counter. His hands clasped her jaws as his mouth descended-open, hungry, purposeful. Her answering lunge and lift were all he needed before his fingers trembled over buttons, hooks, and zippers, and they knew again the swift swelling of sexual appetite, appeasing it with little thought of time or place. In moments they stood among scattered articles of clothing, pressing their naked bodies together, exulting. He lifted her to his waist and her legs twined about his hips, the vacant core of her femininity seeking only one restitution: to be filled by him. The contact was sleek, immediate, and restorative as their bodies reunited and their arms clenched possessively.

He perched her on the edge of the counter, and the sun burned warm on her shoulders as his lean hands parenthesized her hips. Dark eyes captured and held hers. Lips parted. Breath mingled. The movement began.

And in moments Rachel and Tommy Lee shared that glorious outpouring of body and soul found only by the very lucky-by those who bring unquestioning love to the act. When their matched cries echoed through the kitchen, she held his head to her breast and sighed in repletion.

His shoulders were damp-she brushed the sheen from them.

His heartbeat was uneven-she pressed a palm to it.

His eyelids were closed-she kissed them.

And in the end he stayed for a late, late supper.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A week passed, during which Rachel and Tommy Lee had only stolen hours together whenever possible, but "stealing" time left them dissatisfied and impatient. Only one thing happened that brought them smiles. Tommy Lee had to make an unexpected overnight trip, and before leaving town he stalked, unannounced, into Panache, crossed straight to Rachel, and dropped a heedless kiss on her mouth. "Hello, darling. I've got to fly to Atlanta and I won't be back till tomorrow. Thought I'd better let you know before I left."

Verda stood taking it all in, her jaw hanging slack.

"Atlanta?"

"Uh-huh. I'm on my way to the airport now." Oddly enough, Rachel didn't even consider subterfuge. She merely removed her reading glasses, left her desk, and followed his impatient figure to the door.

"Business?" she asked.

"Yes. Some land I've been thinking about buying that somebody else has suddenly taken an interest in. I'd rather not go right now, but it can't be helped. If anything comes up, you can reach me at the Sheraton. Okay?" He was already reaching for the doorknob.

"Okay. Have a safe trip. I'll see you when you get back."

Distractedly he dropped a parting kiss on her mouth while she held the door open, and then he left in a rush.

When he called her, late that night, she casually mentioned, "You threw Verda into major shock when you came sashaying into the shop that way and kissed me."

His laughter came across the wire. Then he asked, "What'd she say?"

Now it was Rachel's turn to laugh. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Of course. You've piqued my interest."

"She said, `I thought he wasn't pesterin' you!`"

When his second round of laughter died, Tommy Lee asked teasingly, "Am I pesterin' you, Rachel?"

"You bet. Please hurry home so we can get on with it."

But their bit of mirth at Verda's expense was the only lighthearted escape they shared during those days when intimacy was denied them. He returned the following evening straight to her arms as if he'd been gone a fortnight. They shared a quick and frenzied reunion. Then he tore himself away, declaring he had to get home and spend some time with Beth, especially since he had missed the supper she'd painstakingly prepared for him several nights earlier plus several others, and had found little time to devote to her since.

"I'm sorry, Rachel. I'd like to stay longer, but I'd better go home and try to smooth the waters."

"You don't have to apologize, darling. I understand. But don't you think it would be better if you introduced the two of us so that she can see I'm not trying to snatch her father and lure him away from her?"

He smiled and squeezed her arms. "You're right."

But she could see he was apprehensive about it. "When?"

He drew a deep breath and seemed to pluck an answer from the air before he could change his mind. "This weekend. When the dragon isn't around."

But one day before the weekend, the shop door opened and Rachel glanced up to find three teenage girls entering. Since her merchandise was targeted chiefly at mature middle-income women, girls of this age rarely shopped at Panache. She smiled a welcome. Then her heart seemed to pause in trepidation as she recognized Beth as one of the three, though Beth didn't give Rachel so much as a glance.

She had a pretty little face, and Tommy Lee's mouth, but her attractiveness was spoiled by a smug expression as she sauntered into the store with her giddy friends. They were obviously in one of those abhorrent adolescent moods that can seize a band of normally polite teenage girls and change them into rude little minxes who delight in disdaining anything smacking of middle-aged maturity.

They were a little too loud and disruptively brash as they invaded the store, plucking at this item and that, dropping them in distaste and making faces at one another that sent them into spasms of laughter.

"Hello, girls, can I help you?"

One of the trio hooked her thumbs in the rear pockets of her jeans and answered while she chewed gum exaggeratedly, "Naw, just checkin' things out. Gotta buy somethin' for my grandmaw." Then she made some inside comment to the other two that sent them into giggles as they sashayed toward a rack of autumn dresses. More rude giggling started as one of them plucked a hanger down and held the dress against her.

"Well, look as long as you like, and let me know if there's anything I can show you."

"Sure, lady," their spokesman said, then turned away, adding something under her breath that brought snickers to her friends and a flush of anger to Rachel's cheeks.

It was Verda's day off, so Rachel was alone in the store, sitting at her desk in the corner, working on invoices. She slipped her reading glasses back onto her nose, pretending to go back to what she was doing, but stingingly aware that Beth Gentry had still not even glanced her way.

The girls worked their way through the store systematically, while Rachel carefully ignored them, wondering whether to get up and politely introduce herself to Beth. But before she could decide, the other two moved to the French armoire where they tried on a wide-brimmed felt hat, leaving Beth to pore over the jewelry at the center counter. Rachel wrote her name on a check, inserted it into an envelope, and licked it shut. Finally she gave in to the urge and raised her eyes, only to have the blood seem to drop to her toes.