The surprise was so great that Zack had to swallow quickly or choke on his beer. “Okay. We can work out a schedule so you can have more free time.” What the hell did he do now? “Uh…Rio could use some help swabbing down the kitchen. Things usually break up early on Sunday nights.”

“Sure, no problem.” Nick started for the door. “See you, Rachel.”

When the door closed, Zack dropped down beside her, shaking his head. “What’d you do, hypnotize him?”

“Not exactly.”

“Well, what the hell did you say to him?”

She sighed, tremendously pleased with herself, and settled back. “That’s privileged information. He just needs someone to stroke his bruised ego now and again. You two may not be biological brothers, but your temperament’s very similar.”

“Oh.” He settled back, as well, swinging an arm around the top of the couch so that he could play with her hair. “How’s that?”

“You’re both hotheaded and stubborn—which is easy for me to recognize, as I come from a long line of the same.” Enjoying the wine and the quiet, she let her eyes close. “You don’t like to admit you made a mistake, and you’d rather punch your way out of a problem than reason it through.”

“Are you trying to say those are faults?”

She had to laugh. “We’ll just call them personality traits. My family is ripe with passionate natures. And what a passionate nature requires is an outlet. My sister Natasha had dance, then her own business and her family. My brother Mikhail has his art. Alexi has his quest to right wrongs, and I have the law. As I see it, you had the navy, and now this bar. Nick hasn’t found his yet.”

He brushed a finger lightly over the nape of her neck, felt the quick quiver that ran through her. “Do you really consider the law enough of an outlet for passion?”

“The way I play it.” She opened her eyes, but the smile that had started to curve her lips died away. He’d shifted, and his face was close—much too close—and his hands had slipped down to her shoulders. The warning bell that rang in her brain had come too late. “I’ve got to get home,” she said quickly. “I’ve got a nine-o’clock hearing.”

“I’ll take you in a minute.”

“I know the way, Muldoon.”

“I’ll take you,” he said again, and something in his tone made it quite clear that he wasn’t talking about walking her to her door. He tugged the wineglass out of her hand and set it aside. “We were talking about passionate natures.” His fingers skimmed up through her hair, fisted in it. “And outlets.”