Unfinished Business by Nora Roberts Page A

He took a long, deep sniff of the coffee. It was his bad luck that he could also smell his shampoo on her hair. “I’m going to feed Kong,” he said abruptly, and left her alone again.
    When he returned, she was smiling at the coffee, which had nearly dripped through. “I remember one of these in your kitchen on Main Street.”
    “My mother always made drip coffee. The best.”
    “Brady, I haven’t told you how sorry I am. I know how close you were.”
    “She never gave up on me. Probably should have more than once, but she never did.” His eyes met Vanessa’s. “I guess mothers don’t.”
    Uncomfortable, Vanessa turned away. “I think it’s ready.” When he reached for two mugs, she shook her head. “No, I don’t want any, thanks. I’ve given it up.”
    “As a doctor, I can tell you that’s commendable.” He poured a full mug. “As a human being, I have to ask how you function.”
    She smiled. “You just start a little slower, that’s all. I have to go.”
    He simply put a hand on the counter and blocked her way. There was rain on his hair now, and his eyes were very clear. “You didn’t sleep well.”
    “I’d say that makes two of us.”

    He took a casual sip of his coffee as he completed a thorough study of her face. The fatigue he saw was due to more than one restless night. “I want you to do something for me.”
    “If I can.”
    “Go home, pull the covers over your head, and tune out until noon.”
    Her lips curved. “I might just do that.”
    “If those shadows under your eyes aren’t gone in forty-eight hours, I’m going to sic my father on you.”
    “Big talk.”
    “Yeah.” He set the mug aside and then, leaning his other hand on the counter, effectively caged her. “I seem to remember a comment last night about no action.”
    Since she couldn’t back up, she held her ground. “I was trying to make you mad.”
    “You did.” He leaned closer until their thighs met.
    “Brady, I don’t have the time or patience for this. I have to go.”
    “Okay. Kiss me goodbye.”
    Her chin tilted. “I don’t want to.”
    “Sure you do.” His mouth whispered over hers before she could jerk her head back. “You’re just afraid to.”
    “I’ve never been afraid of you.”
    “No.” He smiled an infuriating smile. “But you’ve learned to be afraid of yourself.”
    “That’s ridiculous.”
    “Prove it.”
    Seething, she leaned forward, intent on giving him a brief, soulless kiss. But her heart was in her throat almost instantly. He used no pressure, only soft, soft persuasion. His lips were warm and mobile against hers, his tongue cleverly tracing the shape of her mouth before dipping inside to tease and tempt.

    On a breathless murmur, she took her hands up and over his naked chest to his shoulders. His skin was damp and cool.
    He nipped gently at her lips, drowning in the taste of her. Using all his control, he kept his tensed hands on the counter. He knew that if he touched her now, even once, he wouldn’t stop.
    She would come to him. He had promised himself that as he’d sweated through the night. She would come to him, and not because of a memory, not because of grief. Because of need.
    Slowly, while he still had some control, he lifted his head and backed away. “I want to see you tonight, Van.”
    “I don’t know.” She put a hand to her spinning head.
    “Then you think about it.” He picked up his mug again, surprised the handle didn’t shatter in his grip. “You can call me when you make up your mind.”
    Her confusion died away, to be replaced by anger. “I’m not playing games.”
    “Then what the hell are you doing?”
    “I’m just trying to survive.” She snatched up her purse and ran out into the rain.

Chapter 5
    B ed sounded like a wonderful idea, Vanessa decided as she pulled up in front of the house. Maybe if she drew down the shades, put the music on low and willed herself to relax, she would find the sleep she had lost the night before. When