And her problem, as well, she admitted. After all, she wouldn’t deny she cared about both of them more than what could be considered professional. She felt a kinship with Nick—the younger-sibling syndrome, she supposed. Added to that, she’d been telling the simple truth when she confessed to Zack that she had a weakness for bad boys.

She wanted to do more for Nick LeBeck than help him stay out of jail.

As for Nick’s big brother, she’d long since crossed all professional boundaries with him, in to what could only be termed a full-blown affair. Even sitting beside him in the rumbling car, she thought about the last time they’d been together, alone. And it took no effort at all to imagine what it would be like the next time they could steal a few hours.

Her mother was bound to sense it, Rachel mused. Nothing got past Nadia Stanislaski when it came to her children. She wondered what her mother would think of him. What she would think of the fact that her baby girl had taken a lover.

For two people who had vowed not to complicate matters, she and Zack had done a poor job of it, Rachel decided. She’d been so certain she could keep her priorities well in line, accept the physical aspects of a relationship with a man she liked and respected without dwelling on the thorny issue of what-happens-next.

But she was thinking about Zack too much, already slotting herself as part of a couple when she’d always been perfectly content to go along single.

Now, when she imagined moving along without him, the picture turned dull and listless.

Her problem, Rachel reminded herself. After all, they had made a pact, and she never went back on her word. It was something she would have to deal with when the time came. Much more immediate was the nagging sensation that the relationship of the men beside her had taken a fast turn without her being aware of it.

To offset the feeling, she kept up a steady stream of conversation until they reached their stop.

“It’s only a few blocks,” Rachel said, dragging her hair back as a brisk autumn wind swirled around them. “I hope you don’t mind the walk.”

Zack lifted a brow. “I think we can handle it. You seem nervous, Rachel. She seem nervous to you, Nick?”

“Pretty jumpy.”

“That’s ridiculous.” She headed into the wind, and the men fell in beside her.

“It’s probably the thought of having a criminal type sit down to Sunday dinner,” Zack commented. “Now she’s going to have to count all the silverware.”

Shocked at the statement, Rachel started to respond, but Nick merely snorted and answered for himself. “If you ask me, she’s worried about inviting some Irish sailor. She has to worry if he’ll drink all the booze and pick a fight.”