Nick pulled up short, standing in almost the exact spot his brother had a few nights before. As his gaze skimmed over the building at her back, he imagined what it would be like if she asked him in. They’d have coffee, and she’d slip off her shoes and curl those long legs up as they talked.

He’d be careful with her, even gentle. Once his nerves settled.

“I’m glad we could do this,” she was saying, already taking out her keys. “I hope if you’re feeling restless again, or just need to talk to someone, you’ll call me. When I file my report with Judge Beckett tomorrow, I think she’ll be pleased with the way things are working out.”

“Are you?” His eyes locked on hers as he lifted a hand to her hair. “Pleased with the way things are working out?”

“Sure.” A little alarm shrilled in Rachel’s head, but she dismissed it as absurd. “I think you’ve taken a step in the right direction.”

“Me too.”

The alarm continued to beep as she backed up. “We’ll have to do this again soon, but I’ve got to get in now. I have an early meeting.”

“Okay. I’ll call you.”

She blinked as his hands lipped around to cup her neck. “Ah, Nick…”

His mouth closed over hers, very warm, very firm. Her eyes stayed open, registering shock, as her hand flew up to press against his shoulder. His fingers tensed against her neck, and she had the impression of a very lean, very hard body before she managed to pull away.

“Nick,” she said again, groping.

“It’s okay.” He smiled, tucked her hair behind her ear in a gesture that reminded her vividly of his brother. “I’ll be in touch.”

He strolled away. No…good Lord, he was swaggering, Rachel thought as she stared after him. With her mind whirling, she let herself in. “Oh, boy,” she sighed as she paced the elevator.

What now? What now? How could she have been so stupid? Cursing herself, she stomped off the elevator and toward her apartment. This was great, just great. Here she’d been trying to make friends with Nick, and all the while he’d been thinking…

She didn’t want to think about what he’d been thinking.

Without taking off her jacket, she paced the apartment. There had to be a reasonable, diplomatic way to handle this, she told herself. He was only nineteen, he just had a crush, she was overreacting.

Then she remembered those limber fingers on the back of her neck, the firm press of those lips, the smooth and practiced way he’d drawn her against him.

Wrong, Rachel thought, and closed her eyes. She wasn’t dealing with a child’s puppy love, but with a full-grown man’s desire.