“It does when it only walks through one of the doors and the other stays shut.”

“You don’t have much confidence in me, for finding a way of opening a closed door if I put my mind to it.”

“Shawn, I don’t want to hurt you, and neither would Brenna, but she told me straight out that she only wanted to sleep with you.”

“She was clear enough about what she wanted.” This time he smiled. “I want more. What’s wrong with wanting more?”

“This isn’t the time to throw my own words back at my head. I’m worried for you.”

“Don’t be.” He washed the largest of the bowls by hand rather than crowd the dishwasher. “I know what I’m about. I can’t help my feelings. And before you say it,” he continued, “I know she can’t help hers either. But what’s wrong with doing what I can to change her feelings?”

“The minute she thinks you’re courting her—”

But I won’t be. She’ll be courting me.”

Darcy’s first response was a snort, but then she stopped, considered. “Aren’t you the clever one?” she murmured.

“Clever enough to know Brenna will prefer to do the persuading rather than be the persuaded.” He checked his tarts, adjusted the heat. “I expect what we’ve said here to stay here, between the two of us.”

“As if I’d go running off to tell Brenna what falls out of your mouth.” Insulted, she grabbed a tray. His stare from under raised brows made her relent. “All right, in the general way of things that’s what I do, but this is a different matter. You can trust me.”

He knew he could. She might try to fracture his skull with a flying plate, but Darcy would bite off her tongue before betraying a confidence. “I suppose that means you won’t be carrying back to me whatever she might have to say, about . . . certain things.”

“It does, indeed. Look for your spies elsewhere, my lad.” Nose in the air, she started to flounce out. Then there came a hiss of breath from her and she stopped. “She doesn’t think she’s built in a particularly attractive way.”

Since it was the last thing he’d expected to hear, Shawn merely stared until Darcy cursed under her breath.

“I’m only telling you because she never said it outright to me in just those words. But she thinks of her body as a practical thing, and not as female as it could be. She doesn’t think men find her particularly attractive—female-like. And that’s why the sex is just sex in her thinking. She doesn’t believe a man might look at her in a romantic or tender sort of way.”

She paused a moment, tried not to wonder if Brenna would forgive her if her friend knew she’d said such things. “A woman likes to be told . . . well, if you’ve any brain in your head, you should know what a woman likes to be told. And it’s not a matter of just grabbing hold of what’s different from yours, but telling . Now, close your mouth because you look half-witted.”