LITMIR.BIZ

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expected a lecture on the perils of walking through the French Quarter alone at night. Men like Lucas were invariably throwbacks from the feudal days when the rich and powerful protected the weak and defenseless.

      But instead of a warning, Bree got strong hands on her thighs. It was a casual touch—if any stranger’s touch in such an intimate place could really be casual. Perfunctory might be a better description. The thing was…his touch didn’t feel perfunctory.

      Even though he only tended her cut, she felt him everywhere. Heat melted through her, and she was so very aware of her parted thighs. Probably because she didn’t wear panties beneath her panty hose, which put this man’s strong hands in very close proximity to some oh-so-bare private places.

      “So are you enjoying your stay in New Orleans?” she asked to distract herself from the feel of his hands and to end the discussion about why she’d dropped in for a visit.

      “I always enjoy coming home.”

      “Josie told me she bought this place from your parents after they retired to Florida. You were reared here?”

      “Court du Chaud homegrown.”

      Ironic that he’d take off for California when she and Tally had always thought the court would be the best place in the world to live. “Is that why you’re hanging around while Josie and Max are on their honeymoon? Visiting friends?”

      “One of the reasons. My parents stayed after the wedding, too. I wanted to see them off. And my sister has me doing some work around here.”

      “What sort of work?”

      “Cleaning out the attic. My mom’s a pack rat. She stashed memorabilia the whole time we were growing up, then left it all when she moved. Josie’s afraid the fire marshal will condemn the place. Now that she and Max are married, they’re making some decisions about living arrangements, and she wants to make sure I take everything I want in case they decide to sell the place.”

      “Couldn’t live without your baseball trophies, hmm?”

      “Or the sculpture of Cupid I made Mom in third grade.”

      “It’s still around?”

      “Give or take a few limbs.”

      “I can see why you’d want to save it.”

      “Absolutely. Some superglue and I’ve got the perfect Mother’s Day gift.”

      Bree smiled. Oddly she had no trouble imagining Lucas as a young boy making sculptures for his mother. Maybe the way he tended her injuries with such a gentle touch made such a caring gesture seem to fit this strong man.

      “So tell me, are you the twin I’ve heard singing?” After tossing the gauze into the trash, Lucas fished through the first-aid kit.

      “’Fraid I’m going to disappoint you again. My sister’s the singer in the family.”

      “Just you and her?”

      “Got a musically inclined brother, too. I’m the untalented one of our illustrious bunch. No treasure hunts. No musical talent. The younger twin, wouldn’t you know? Something to do with the gene pool, I’m guessing. Watered things down a bit.”

      Glancing up from his task, he dragged his bright gaze over her in a lazy caress. “Untalented?”

      “One in every bunch.”

      “Scaling a tree in this dress and those shoes? Ever thought about stunt work?”

      She laughed. Lucas was proving to be a chuckle a minute, easy to be around for a man she’d just met under some very tenuous circumstances. Bree must really be off her stride after all the night’s shocks. She usually had much more self-control.

      But when Lucas patted the antiseptic wipe against her thigh, then blew gently to soothe away the sting, she felt the tingle of his warm breath from the top of her head to her toes.

      “Still okay?” he asked.

      “Mmm-hmm.” The antiseptic burned, but her awareness of his mouth overrode any other sensation.

      She could feel the determination in his touch, but she sensed compassion in the warm burst of breath against her skin. He was a surprise, this one. Bree made her career catering to overindulged rich men who lived life for new challenges. She recognized Lucas as one. No mistake.

      But there was something else here, too.

      She wasn’t sure what it was. Not the way he’d chosen to play the knight in skimpy towel.

      What self-respecting man wouldn’t rescue a damsel in distress?

      It wasn’t the way he’d dragged her inside to care for her boo-boos either.

      No, Bree wasn’t at all surprised that he’d charged in to save her.

      Maybe she was surprised by how glad she was that he had.

      2

      TOUCHING THIS WOMAN with no hope of making love to her was nothing short of torture, Lucas decided. He cleansed the slash that marred Bree’s skin, an innocent touch that inspired some not-so-innocent thoughts. He wanted to run his fingers up her leg and feel her muscles tense beneath his touch. He wanted to lean over and press his mouth to her thigh and watch her react.

      He couldn’t ever remember being so attracted to a woman.

      But he’d never met a woman like Bree before either.

      She wasn’t what Lucas had expected to find in the bushes when he’d heard noises from outside earlier. Some kid who’d sneaked out his bedroom window for a late-night party on Bourbon Street, maybe. Or a trapped raccoon escaped from the wildlife rescue shelter down the street.

      Not this intensely desirable neighbor who was playing hell all over his restraint.

      Forcing himself to focus on his task, Lucas stood between her spread knees and tried not to be affected by the sight of her. A lost cause. Not only hadn’t he dated since a Swedish scientist had skyrocketed his libido past the stratosphere, but the way Bree braced back on her hands gave him an incredible view of her gown bunching up around her hips. All that sparkly fabric molded her narrow waist and full breasts, and the pulse beating quickly at the base of her throat made him hope she’d noticed his nearness, too.

      Her exotic eyes were as dark as the sable hair that fell in lustrous waves over her shoulders, a rich color that contrasted strikingly with her creamy-gold skin. She had a mouth that looked as if she’d just been kissed, full lips that managed to be as expressive as her flashing eyes.

      From the instant he’d seen her at Josie’s wedding, Lucas had thought Bree one of the most stunning women he’d ever laid eyes on. Impossibly beautiful because there were two of her. Her twin was a mirror image, and while he knew there must be differences, he hadn’t gotten close enough to discern them.

      Nor had he managed an introduction. With family and friends coming in from far and wide for the celebration, uncles, aunts, cousins and acquaintances who he’d barely recognized had cornered him through the entire reception.

      According to Josie, the twin who’d found the treasure had gotten engaged after her adventure. Since his sister hadn’t mentioned anything about this twin’s situation, Lucas didn’t know much about Bree.

      He’d admired her from a distance, though, or them, because without formal introductions they were a duo in his mind—the twins from Number One—but from the moment Bree had gazed into his face and her hand had slipped inside his, she’d become the woman who made him respond.

      He’d been feeling the effects ever since.

      Granted, it had been a while since the Swedish scientist, and he hadn’t met anyone interesting enough to pursue since then. But Lucas knew chemistry, and it was tearing through him right now. He struggled to carry his half of the conversation as thoughts of what he’d like to be doing

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