“I’m sorry. I spend too much time in locker rooms. I won’t tease you anymore. I promise.”

His sympathy was worse than his teasing, but she turned into his chest all the same. He stroked her hair, and she told herself to back away, but she felt as though she belonged exactly where she was. And then she grew aware of the powerful erection pressing against her body.

So did he. He quickly stepped back, abruptly releasing her. “I’d better go downstairs so you can have your bedroom back,” he said.

She managed a shaky nod. “Okay.”

He picked up his shoes, but he didn’t leave right away. Instead, he made his way to her desk and gestured toward the magazines stacked on top. “I like to read before I fall asleep. I don’t suppose you’ve got a spare copy of Sports Illustrated lying around?”

“ ’Fraid not.”

“Of course you don’t. Why would you?” His hand shot out. “I’ll take this instead?”

And there went her sex toy catalog.

Heath smiled to himself as he set off down the stairs, but his smile had faded by the time he reached Nana’s bedroom. What the hell was he doing here? He pulled off his shirt and tossed it on a chair. He hadn’t planned on showing up at Annabelle’s door, but the past week had been brutal. With the preseason about to begin, he’d flown all over the country, touching base with each of his clients. He’d played big brother, cheerleader, lawyer, and shrink. He’d endured flight delays, car rental mix-ups, bad food, loud music, too much booze, and not enough sleep. Tonight, when he’d gotten into the cab, the image of his empty house looming in front of him had been more than he could handle, and he’d heard himself giving the driver Annabelle’s address.

This sense that he was thrashing around threatened his mental toughness. He’d signed with Portia in May, Annabelle early in June. Now it was mid-August, but he was no closer to reaching his goal than when he’d started. As he unzipped his pants, he knew that his frustrating breakup with Keri proved one thing. He couldn’t keep going on like this, not with the football season starting, not if he wanted to stay mentally sharp. The time had come to make some changes…

Portia watched the woman’s breasts leak into the platter of raw oysters, a steady drip, drip, drip. An ice sculpture of a classical female figure might have made sense in the abstract, but tonight’s silent auction and cocktail party benefited a shelter for abused women, and watching a woman melt into the hors d’oeuvres sent the wrong message. The restaurant’s air-conditioning couldn’t handle either the ice sculpture or the crowd, and Portia was hot even in her strapless dress. She’d bought the short red cocktail number just that afternoon, hoping something new and extravagant would lift her spirits, as if a new dress could fix what was wrong with her. She’d been so optimistic about Heath and Keri, basking in the publicity they’d stirred up. She should have realized they were too much alike, but she’d lost her instincts right along with her passion for manufacturing other people’s happy endings.