LITMIR.BIZ

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have a record of them.”

      “Adoptive parents?” said Grace.

      “Dex and I disagree on the subject,” Jim told her. He gave no hint that it was out of place for a maid to question her employer’s child-rearing plans.

      “They could live here,” Rocky suggested. “It’s big enough.”

      “Live here?” Grace echoed in amazement. “What, a pair of adoptive parents move into the baby’s father’s mansion? You’ve been watching too many daytime talk shows!”

      “I never watch daytime talk shows,” Rocky replied stiffly. “And I refuse to be taunted into another fight.”

      “Because you’d lose,” said Grace.

      Jim held up his hands. “Rocky, how’s dinner coming along? Grace, I believe you’ve got liberty call.”

      The maid stood her ground for a moment, then nodded. “Thank you, sir. See you at Colors on Monday, if not before.”

      “Good night, Grace.”

      Dex watched the maid depart through the French doors. After she was gone, Rocky headed for the kitchen.

      “What’s liberty call?” Dex shifted the baby onto her hip.

      “Free time. It means she’s off duty,” Jim explained.

      “And what’s Colors?”

      “That’s when we raise the flag. Eight a.m. on weekdays,” he said.

      Dex wondered how the future Mrs. Bonderoff would enjoy living on a Marine base. On the other hand, maybe the future Mrs. Bonderoff was a Marine.

      “Make yourself comfortable. Dinner should be ready soon.” Jim gestured toward a couch.

      “Thanks.” Dex placed Annie on the floor and sat down. The baby crawled to a bookcase and examined the book spines.

      “I think you mentioned that you’re a doctoral candidate?” Jim relaxed into an armchair.

      “Working on my dissertation,” she said.

      “Feel free to bring your materials here,” he said. “I’ve got several computers in the house. You’re welcome to use one.”

      “I’m working on my dissertation slowly,” she clarified.

      Annie crawled toward the open French doors. Outside, a man’s slim figure materialized, closed the doors and vanished. Dex couldn’t see his features clearly, but got the impression of a sensitive mouth and large, sad eyes. “Who’s that?”

      “Kip, the gardener,” Jim said. “He used to be full of bravado, a real rock-’em-sock-’em type. Then he nearly died in a helicopter accident. The brain injuries changed his personality.”

      “How come your whole staff is Marines?” Dex asked.

      “They’re my buddies.” Leaning back, Jim laced his fingers behind his head. “I was a real rabble-rouser when I got out of high school. Surfing wasn’t enough of an adventure for me, so I enlisted.”

      “You postponed college?” Dex asked.

      “Not exactly. I took some courses while I was in the service, in the computer field, but I never got a degree,” Jim said. “Not unless you count my honorary Ph.D.”

      Dex supposed that wasn’t unusual in his field. She’d heard that Bill Gates had dropped out of Harvard. “So when you left the service, your friends came with you?”

      “Not right away,” Jim said. “I mustered out ten years ago, when I was twenty-four. When I was twenty-eight, Rocky lost a leg in an amphibious assault. He wasn’t adjusting well to civilian life, so a year later, when I was planning to build this house, I asked if he would manage it for me.”

      Come to think of it, Rocky did have a slight limp. No wonder Grace kept besting him.

      “What about Grace?” she asked.

      “She left the service four years ago, suffering from clinical depression,” Jim said. “It’s a chemical disorder. Under my employee health plan, she got the right treatment, and now she’s fine.”

      “How long has Kip been here?”

      “He came right after Grace,” Jim said. “His doctors thought gardening would provide a stress-free environment, and it seems to be working. I think he’s lonely, though.”

      It was an unusual household. Dex approved of Jim’s loyalty to his friends, but she wasn’t certain how this eccentric crew might affect Annie. She wanted her daughter to have the perfect home.

      Rocky appeared in the doorway. “Dinner is served,” he announced.

      Dex and Jim went into the formal dining room. In one corner, a playpen filled with toys awaited Annie, and she slipped happily into place.

      The long table was set with white linen, bone china and silver service. In the center, candles had been lit. Serving dishes lined a sideboard, offering T-bone steaks, glazed carrots, parsleyed potatoes and Caesar salad.

      “Great!” Dex said. “Rocky, you’re a gem.”

      The large man blushed. “I like cooking.”

      Dex was about to ask who the third place setting was for when Rocky helped himself to a plate and got into line first. Obviously, he was in the habit of dining with Jim.

      “What about Kip and Grace?” she asked, falling into place behind him.

      “Kip’s too shy to eat in company.” Jim stood close behind her. Dex could feel his warmth radiating against her bottom, and recalled that that had been one of the positions they’d experimented with during their night together. “Grace prefers canned beans and fruit to Rocky’s cooking, or so she claims.”

      “Perverse woman,” grumbled the butler as he piled potatoes alongside his steak. “When she wasn’t barking orders at the troops, she used to be quiet and polite. I thought that was her real personality, and it suited me fine. I didn’t know she was depressed.”

      “It’s lucky Jim came along,” Dex said. “She must have felt miserable.”

      “I wish she was still depressed,” Rocky grumbled. “She didn’t give me so much trouble.”

      Jim sat at the head of the table, with Rocky and Dex on either side. As the meal passed in general conversation, she was intrigued to hear that Jim’s stock had shot through the roof, thanks to some new computer chip.

      What was the man going to do with even more money? Buy a few new cars, build another mansion, plan the most fabulous wedding of the decade?

      She didn’t envy his bride. Dex hated pomp and ceremony. When she got married, she wanted a quiet service with friends and family.

      What was she thinking? Of course she envied his bride. Not because Dex wanted to marry Jim, but because she wished she were the type of woman who could.

      Being this close to him was agony. She kept wanting to touch his closely shaved cheeks and rumple his sun-streaked hair.

      And she kept remembering how much she’d wanted to make love to him on a thick, soft carpet piled with cushions. She could think of so many creative positions, but her carpet was too short and scratchy.

      He’d suggested they go to his house and mentioned that he had the ideal carpet in his bedroom. Under no circumstances, she told herself now, would she ever enter that bedroom.

      “Looks like Annie’s ready for bed,” Jim said.

      Dex gave a little jump. “Excuse me?”

      “The baby’s yawning,” said Rocky. “I can take her upstairs.”

      “No, thank you.” Dex wanted to enjoy every minute of the scant time she had with her daughter.

      “We’ll

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