The crab puffs definitely showed the rigors of the journey, and it was a miracle that Venus de Milo had made it so far without melting into a puddle. Shay’s dream of starting her own catering business surfaced and she pushed it resolutely back onto a mental shelf. She had a child to support and there was no way she could afford to take the financial risks such a venture would involve.

“You look fantastic!” Ivy whispered. “Is that shirt heavy?”

“It weighs a ton,” Shay confided. Her eyes were following Mitch; she was memorizing every expression that crossed his face.

“Let’s separate those two before they start drawing up plans or something,” Ivy said lightly.

Shay wondered how long it would be before Todd balked at Ivy’s gentle commandeering but made no comment. A buffet supper was served soon afterward, and she and Mitch sat alone in a corner of the beach house’s enormous deck, listening to the chatter of the tide as they ate. Stars were popping out all over a black velvet sky and the summer breeze was warm.

When silences had fallen between herself and Eliott, Shay had always been uncomfortable, needing to riddle the space with words. With Mitch, there were no gaps to fill. It was all right to be quiet, to reflect and to dream.

Presently, a caterer’s assistant came and collected their empty plates and glasses, but Mitch and Shay remained in that shadowy corner of the deck. When the Reeses’ speakers began to pipe soft music into the night, they moved together without a word. They danced, and the proximity of Mitch’s blatantly masculine body to Shay’s softer one was an exquisite misery.

Shay saw his mouth descending to claim her own and instead of turning to avoid his kiss, she welcomed it. Unconsciously she braced herself for the crushing ardor Eliott had taught her to expect, but Mitch’s kiss was gentle, tentative, almost questioning. She felt the tip of his tongue encircle her lips and a delicious tingling sensation spread into every part of her. His nearly inaudible groan rippled over her tongue and tickled the inner walls of her cheeks as she opened her mouth to him.

Gently, ever so gently, he explored her, his body pinning hers to the deck railing in a tender dominance that she welcomed, for rather than demanding submission, the gesture incited a passion so intense that Shay was terrified by it. Had it been feelings like these that had caused Rosamond to flit from one husband to another, dragging one very small and frightened daughter after her?

Shay turned her head, remembering the bewilderment and the despair. No one knew better than she did that the price of a grand passion could be a child’s sense of security, and she wasn’t going to let that happen to Hank.

“I’d like to go home,” she managed to say.

Mitch only nodded, and when Shay dared risk a glance at his profile, turned now toward the dark sea, she saw no anger in the line of his jaw or the muscles in his neck.