“Yeah. You know, take in a couple of museums, maybe an art gallery, a walk in the park, have a fancy lunch somewhere. I figure most of the time we’ve spent together so far’s been after dark.”

Odd…that hadn’t occurred to her before. “I guess it has.”

“Why don’t we try a Sunday afternoon?”

“I…” She couldn’t think of a single reason why not. “All right. Why don’t you come by around eleven?”

“I’ll be there.”

She turned the knob, then glanced back at him. “Museums?” she said on a laugh. “Is this on the level, Muldoon?”

“I happen to appreciate art,” he told her, leaning forward to touch his lips to hers in a quiet kiss that rocked her back on her heels. “And beauty.”

She slipped out quickly. As she walked up to the corner to hail a cab, it occurred to her she hadn’t yet decided how best to handle Nick. And she sure as hell hadn’t figured out how to handle Nick’s big brother.

CHAPTER SIX

Rachel was cursing when her buzzer sounded promptly at eleven o’clock Sunday morning. Securing an earring, she pressed the intercom. “Muldoon?”

“You sound out of breath, sugar. Should I take that as a compliment?”

“Come on up,” she said shortly. “And don’t call me sugar.”

After snapping off the intercom, she flipped off her three security locks, then gave herself one last look in the mirror. She’d forgotten her second earring. Grumbling, she went on a quick search until she found it lying on the kitchen counter beside her empty coffee cup.

It was her day off, damn it. And she resented having it interrupted for work. Not because she’d been looking forward to spending it with Zack. Particularly. It was just that it had been a long time since she’d had a day to wander through museums and galleries, and— She broke off her silent complaining at the knock on the door.

“Come in, it’s open.”

“Anxious?” Zack commented as he walked in. Then he lifted a brow and took one long look. She was standing in the center of the room, slim and lovely in a bronze-toned suede jacket and short skirt set off by a slightly mannish silk blouse in a flashy blue. She was barefoot, and he found his mouth watering as he watched her perform the feminine and oddly intimate task of securing a shiny gold knot to her ear. “You look nice.”

“Thanks. You, too.” No, what he looked was sexy, she thought, damn sexy, in snug black jeans, a midnight-blue sweater, and a bomber jacket in soft black leather. But nice would have to do. “Listen, Zack, I tried to catch you before you left the bar. I’m sorry I missed you.”