If she felt too much was going out, while nothing was coming in, she could agree to do a few guest appearances with the company. That door had been left open.

The fact was, with all the weeks of construction ahead, it would make sense to do so—and not only for financial reasons.

She was used to working, used to being busy. Once the work began on the building there would be nothing for her to do but wait until each stage was complete.

It was an easy trip to New York, and the simplest thing in the world to stay with family there. Rehearse, train, perform, come home again. Yes, that might be the best solution all around.

But not yet. Not quite yet. She wanted to see her plans get off the ground first.

“Kate?” Brody stepped out, her coat in his hand. “It’s cold out here.”

“A bit. I was hoping it would snow. We got teased the other day.”

“As long as it’s not eight feet.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.” He laid her coat over her shoulders, automatically lifting her hair out of the collar. There was so damn much of it, he thought. Soft, curling miles of it.

His hands were still caught in it when she turned, when she looked up, met his eyes. Interested after all, she realized with a lovely liquid tug in the belly. “Why don’t we walk around the corner. You can buy me a cup of coffee.” She moved in, a deliberate test for both of them. “We can discuss…counter space.”

She clogged his brain, his lungs, and did a hell of a job on his loins. “You’re coming on to me again.”

Her smile was slow, devastatingly female. “I certainly am.”

“You’re probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s the good fortune of birth, but since I look a great deal like my mother, thank you. I particularly like your mouth.” She shifted her gaze to it, lingered. “I just keep coming back to it.”

His throat was dry as the Sahara. What had happened with women since he’d been out of the game? he wondered. When had they started seducing men on the front porch in the middle of the afternoon?

He could feel the chill December wind whipping against his face. And the heat swarming into his blood. “Look.” In self-defense, he took her by the arms. Her coat slid off her shoulders, and he felt the taut sculpted muscle beneath her suit jacket.

“I’ve been looking.” Her gaze flicked up to his again. So male, she thought. So frustrated. “I just happen to like what I see.”

Her eyes were pure gray, he thought. Mysterious as smoke. He had only to lower his head, or better, yes better, to yank her to her toes. Then his mouth would be on those sultry, self-satisfied lips of hers.

He had a feeling, a bad one, it would be like bare-handing a live wire. Thrilling, and potentially deadly.