Eclipse Bay

behavior.”
    “If you think I’m bad, you ought to talk to Gabe sometime. He’s obsessed with making money and doing deals.”
    She smiled. “A cold-blooded Madison? Hard to imagine.”
    “Gabe has his share of the Madison hot blood. But he’s channeled it into Madison Commercial.”
    “I’ll take your word for it.” Hannah hesitated. “Ever cooked for your grandfather?”
    He looked genuinely startled. “No. Bryce does all the cooking at Mitchell’s house.”
    “Why don’t you invite Mitchell to dinner here at Dreamscape?”
    His jaw tightened. “What put that idea into your head?”
    “I’m not sure. It just occurred to me that your interest in cooking parallels his in gardening. Creative outlets that you both approach with passion.”
    “Huh.”
    “I think you should invite him to dinner.”
    Rafe contemplated her for a long, brooding moment. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” he said at last. “You can’t resist handing out the advice.”
    She exhaled slowly and sank back into her chair. “You’re right. I can’t seem to stop. Do you think I should seek professional help?”
    “Waste of money. You’d probably end up giving advice to the therapist on your own dime.” He got to his feet and stacked the dishes. “Go on into the solarium. I’ll bring the coffee out there.”
    Bemused and feeling oddly flattened, she got up from the table and walked out of the kitchen.
    She wandered into the glass-walled room, not bothering to turn on the lights. Drawn by the darkened view, she went to stand at the windows. Rafe was right. She really ought to stop handing out advice to all and sundry. Nobody ever took it anyway.
    Morosely she gazed out across the expanse of the curving bay toward the lights of the small harbor and the pier. Music stole softly into the dark shadows of the solarium, curling around her with a lover’s touch. It was a slow, sultry number that sounded as if it had been born in a smoky nightclub and had never seen the light of day.
    Rafe came through the doorway with a tray in his hands. Without a word he set the coffee and the mugs down on a table. Then he straightened and walked toward her.
    A chill of intense awareness swept through her.
    So it was dark and there was a torchy tune swirling in the air. So there was a sexy man who could cook like an angel in the immediate vicinity. So what?
    Think of Winston .
    Rafe came to a stop directly behind her. “Did I tell you how good you look in that dress?”
    “Mmm.” Noncommittal. That was always a safe way to play it.
    He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her slowly around to face him. “You look fantastic in it.”
    Think of Winston .
    Rafe took her into his arms and began to move, very slowly, to the very slow music.
    He might as well have been making love to her, she thought. The effect was the same. It felt like things were melting down below. Unable to resist the temptation, she put her head cautiously on his shoulder.
    His arms tightened very deliberately around her. His thumb touched the base of her spine.
    Think of Winston .
    She cleared her throat. “Would you mind if I asked you a purely hypothetical question?”
    He put his mouth against her temple. “I live to answer hypothetical questions.”
    “In your considered opinion, do you think that the average man would be hesitant to become involved in a romantic relationship with a woman who was prone to lecture him in an officious, prissy manner?” She swallowed. “Even though she was right most of the time?”
    He said nothing for a moment, dancing in thoughtful silence.
    “The average man, maybe,” he finally conceded.
    Gloom settled on her, darker than fog. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
    They danced for another moment or two. Then he brought her to a halt near the window.
    “My turn to ask you a hypothetical question,” he said. “Do you think I’m average?”
    She raised her head very swiftly from his shoulder. “No. No, definitely not. You’re a lot of things, Rafe Madison, but you are not average. Not in any way.”
    She could feel him smiling into her hair.
    “Then I don’t see that we have a problem here,” he said.
    He tilted her chin up and kissed her.
    She stopped thinking of Winston.

chapter 12
    She wanted him. He could feel it in the way she held him. The fine trembling in her body told him of her gathering excitement. He could not recall the last time a woman had shivered in his arms like this.
    He