Virginia could hear the shower running when she entered Mark's room. Heading into the bathroom, she almost tripped over her own two feet when she saw him through the glass enclosure. He had his back to her, the muscled expanse rising like a brick wall above the light haze of steam that floated up from the floor. His arms were up, biceps flexing as he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, fingers pushing through the dark, slick strands. The suds slid down, down, down, dripping from shoulder blades onto one perfectly shaped ass.

She must have made a noise because he suddenly twisted to look at her. Leaning over, he opened the door, some of the steam making a quick escape while it had the chance. "Janine here?" he called out.

She took a deep breath once she realized she'd been holding it. "No," she said, raising her voice loud enough to be heard over the rushing water. She thought about the conversation she'd had at home with her brother. He'd been unusually cooperative considering he knew where she was going, although he had seemed distracted by something. She was grateful, though. Janine had enough experience with men disappearing from her life: Tom, Jack . . . Mark once already. Virginia wasn't ready to bring her back to his place just yet. "Paul is going to stay with her tonight and take her to school in the morning."

"Then join me," he said in a husky drawl. Leaving the door open, he shifted his head back under the spray.

She had never undressed so fast in her life, throwing her clothes next to the ones he had taken off earlier. After stepping in and closing the door, she moved to face him under the foot-wide shower head. Her eyes drifted down with a shameless ogle that brought heat to her cheeks when it reached his hips.

Hello.

Her eyes snapped back to his.

"Everything go okay?" he asked, reaching for the soap with a knowing smirk. After sudsing up his hands, he started on her shoulders, massaging while he washed.

"Yes," she murmured, tilting her head back, loving the feel of his hands on her skin. "They picked up your car. You'll have to stop by impound to get it." She waggled her eyebrows. "Cap gave me the rest of my shift off."

"And Walt?"

Guilt stabbed into her as Walt's face flashed in her mind. No need to tell him how angry Walt had been. It would only upset him. "He was there, but we didn't get a chance to talk." She dropped her gaze to the floor and kept it there.

His long silence had her wondering if he knew she was lying. She risked a peek.

Mark was staring down at her with an odd look. "We didn't use any protection," he said out of the blue.

Oh. "Kind of late for that now." She tried to keep her voice light and steady, but the double meaning of her words didn't help much. Clearing her throat, she added, "Don't worry, I'm fine . . . timing wise."

Turning her back to him, she got busy rinsing off the soap only to glance over her shoulder and catch him frowning. Crap! Can he tell? She had gained some weight, mainly in her hips and breasts, and her abs were on their way to becoming more pillow-soft than rock-hard, but she didn't think her pregnancy would be noticeable yet to others. Unless someone knew her body well and actually spent some time studying it.

Which he did . . . and . . . he was.

She wasn't ready to tell him. Things were already moving way too fast, and she needed time to think. She needed a distraction.

"I'm starving," she said with a pout. Besides, it was close to dinnertime and she didn't want to risk getting to the nauseous stage. Being able to fight it off back at the warehouse had been a surprising victory, but hunger was a trigger harder to overcome without the help of food.

He turned off the shower and wrapped her up in a white bathrobe before pulling on a matching one and tying it. They were soft and long, coming down to mid-calf on him, falling to the floor on her. She looked down at her toes and laughed.

He leaned in and kissed her hard, turning her giggles into a gasp.

With an affectionate smack on her backside, he headed off in the direction of the kitchen.

)l(

Mark hummed as he got busy hauling out bread, cold cuts, cheese and anything else that looked enticing. The afternoon had turned out much better than he had ever hoped for. He still had a lot of explaining to do, but nothing could put a damper on how he felt.

He had just finished opening one of his finest Merlots when she joined him. "Did you do anything about Gus?" she asked.

"I have a meeting in the morning. Louis says Augustus wants to see me." He lifted the bottle. "Wine?"

She shook her head. "Is that safe?"

"He will be interested in what Enzo revealed about Gus's master plan. Of course it will be my word against Gus's. But he trusts me. At least he did until—"

"I came along?"

Mark chuckled. It was just like her to get right to the point. "He wasn't thrilled to learn about us."

"I said before that I didn't want to choose between you and my job. You shouldn't have to either."

He traced the delicate arch from her chin to her sternum with his finger. Yes, she was the main factor, but there was much more to this decision—more secrets to his fucked up life—and when the truth came out, it would be up to her to decide if they had a future. He could only pray she had it in her heart to overlook all the deceit. "It's time to get my life back. I just have to wrap up some things. After meeting with Augustus, I need to go into the city. It may take a couple of hours. You will wait here for me, right? You will be safe here until I return with some news."

She nodded.

His finger had stopped its descent, content to draw lingering lines back and forth across skin not covered by terrycloth. "You ready to eat?"

"Yes!"

They had a contest on who could make a better sandwich. He won, of course. Her ham on rye with tomato, cheese, and lettuce didn't stand a chance against his grilled turkey, cheese, and roasted red peppers topped with a concoction of yogurt, garlic, and cucumber he'd whipped up, all sitting in perfect combination on the flatbread he'd found in the cupboard.

"Not fair . . . I didn't know you had a panini maker," Virginia said as they stood eyeing the sandwiches sitting side-by-side on the countertop of the large island. With a quick glance around the kitchen, she sighed, "I should have, though."

Mark picked up his winning entry and brought one-half of the gourmet delight to her mouth to sample. She bit into it, closing her eyes with a low moan.

"Delicious," she said as she licked her lips to retrieve any lingering remnants, making him forget all about food.

He put his plate down and lifted hers.

Realizing what he was up to, she went to grab it out of his grip. "No! You're not eating my boring sandwich."

He lifted it high above his head. She jumped up in an attempt to retrieve it, but there was no way she could reach that high or budge that arm. He smiled at her futile attempts.

"Oh, you think that's funny?" Cupping his face, she pulled him to her mouth and kissed him deeply.

The plate drifted down, ending up back on the counter in order to free up both his hands to undo the belt of her robe. One quick yank gave him access to her breasts. He captured their rounded fullness, feeling her nipples tighten when his thumbs brushed over them. He turned, taking her with him, pinning her against the countertop. The logistics of having sex in a wide open kitchen in a house occupied by others should have been dousing his fire, but he figured if they kept the robes on, they just might be able to—

She wriggled out of his embrace, grabbing her sandwich in one hand and the front of her robe in the other before sweeping away from him with a, "Gotcha."

"Cheater," he growled.

She had just made it to the far side of the island when the front door slammed. The plate ended up back on the countertop as she grabbed for the belt to secure her robe.

Bruce turned the corner—and came striding into the kitchen.

)l(

Bruce came to an abrupt halt when he spotted the two of them. Taking in their attire, he jerked his thumb over his shoulder and took a few steps back. "Uh . . . I'll just go upstairs."

Virginia fussed with the lapels of the robe before tightening its belt.

Mark spoke up, drawing Bruce's focus away from her and halting his retreat. "That's okay, were done in here. Lily had to leave early today so you'll have to fend for yourself." He grabbed up the wine and water bottle from the countertop, then made his way over to Virginia and reached for the plate beside her.

"There are plenty of cold cuts," Mark said as he passed him, smiling down at what he held in his hand. "Don't forget your panini, Ginny," he threw over his shoulder as he left he kitchen.

She looked to the spot where her plate had been. "Hey!" she yelled before rushing over to grab the other one.

"Sorry," she croaked as she swept by him.

"No problem," Bruce muttered.

He saw only glimpses of bare feet under the long robe as she padded across the hallway and down the two steps to the sunken living room. Long, dark hair swayed with each step, wayward strands catching and sticking on the white loopy material. He watched her toss them back, hearing the light, feminine laughter echo across the large, open space. Mark was already at his bedroom door, waiting for her with a sappy grin. He kicked the door closed with his foot once she crossed the threshold.

Bruce turned to the now quiet, abandoned kitchen. The rye bread sat unwrapped, threatening to go stale. A knife lay in a puddle of juice next to a small remnant of tomato. The panini maker was open, bits of cheese and crumbs stuck to the grill.

Obviously, their focus hadn't been on cleaning up.

He picked up the sweating bottles of condiments in front of him and placed them back in the fridge. He stood with the door wide, staring at the shelves without really looking, feeling the cool air wrap around him.

How appropriate. God, he was so tired of feeling cold.

He had taken this job partly because of the respect he had for Mark, but also to keep an eye on Steve who had already signed on. Yes, Steve, his little brother, the gifted one of the family. From a very early age, Steve had exhibited signs of uber-genius. He had been put in a school for gifted children after acting out in the public system. He refused to acknowledge that he was special—fought it tooth and nail in fact—hence the whole surfer-dude persona. Denial wouldn't have been so bad, except it often caused his brother to be reckless, dangerously so. Extreme sports, fast cars, bar fights, lots of women, acting out had turned into a thrill-seeking addiction.

Watching over his little brother was something Bruce had become accustomed to over the years. But Steve was older now, a grown man. And even though Steve appeared to be happy in a job that required little thinking, Bruce was feeling stymied.

His personal life was just as frozen. Tired of the casual sex he'd been having for years, he wanted something more fulfilling, a partner, a connection, a . . . His head turned to the closed bedroom door.

Get over it! After slamming the refrigerator shut, Bruce rushed out of the kitchen and headed for the front door, deciding to order food at the first bar he hit.

END OF CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Of course she went back. I was just messing with you ;) What secrets do you think Mark was referring to?

Wasn't that a nice chapter? Well, hold onto those warm fuzzies because the next chapter contains some violence and is probably the most intense chapter I've ever written. It is PRIVATE for that reason. You must follow me to read private chapters. Please refer to Fine Facts at the front of this book if you need to.

Dedicated to @eternalfelicity , author of Trust, who always blows through my chapters like a little tornado, leaving a path of comments behind. Thank you!