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“No problem. I brought the paper. I’ll just read it and wait.”

“Fine. I mean, not fine. I mean, I’ve changed my...” Emily sputtered to a halt. Okay. Jake was here. In that case, she’d do the right thing. Get dressed, go downstairs, tell him her decision in person. “Look, just sit on the stoop and read the paper. I’ll be down in twenty—”

“Are you nuts? It’s zero degrees out here, Emily.”

“Five minutes, then. That’s all it’ll take me to get ready.”

“What’s that, dear?”

“And don’t ‘dear’ me!”

“I was talking with a charming lady name of... What’s your name, sweetheart? Ah. Her name is Mrs. Levy. She says she forgot her keys and she’s getting awfully cold, standing out here while you refuse to buzz her in.”

Emily narrowed her eyes. “I hate you, Jake McBride,” she said dispassionately, and pressed the buzzer. She thought about combing her hair, putting on her slippers, washing her face...

Instead, she flung open the door, folded her arms, and waited.

Jake bounded up the stairs a moment later. Her heart bounded, too. She’d never seen him dressed in anything but a suit. Today he wore scuffed leather boots, faded jeans and a scarred black leather jacket. Not that it mattered. He was an unwelcome sight...

But a magnificent one. Her heart leaped like a jackhammer when he smiled.

“Good morning, Emily.”

“There’s nothing good about it.”

Jake went from a smile to a grin. “That’s what I love,” he said, “being greeted by someone who’s cheerful, first thing in the morning.”

What he hadn’t expected to be greeted by was a barefoot, sleep-tousled Emily in a pair of flannel pajamas. He was a man who’d seen more than his fair share of slinky black nightgowns, negligees and spike-heeled sandals. How could a pair of bare feet and oversized flannel pj’s be a turn-on? Not too oversized, though. He could see the rounded outline of Emily’s breasts beneath the softly faded fabric, even see the thrust of her nipples...

Jake frowned. “We had an appointment,” he said gruffly. “You look as if you just got out of bed.”

“Our appointment was for ten o’clock. Besides, I changed my mind.”

“Yeah, I figured you would.”

Emily spun around as he brushed past her. “Where are you going?”

“I’m looking for the kitchen. You do have one, don’t you?”

“Yes, but—”

Jake dumped the Times and a white paper sack on the kitchen table. “Two containers of coffee, two bagels with cream cheese, and two jelly doughnuts. My penance, for showing up early.” He folded his arms. “I figured I’d better, or you’d chicken out.”

“I am not, as you so elegantly put it, ‘chickening out.’ And I’m not interested in starting my day with a carbohydrate high.”

“No problem. I’ll eat the doughnuts by myself.” Jake looked around the room. He’d have looked anywhere, if it meant not looking at Emily. Her hair was a mass of silky curls; her mouth was pink. What would she taste like, without even a touch of lipstick? What would she feel like, in his arms? Desperate for diversion, he jerked his chin in the di­rection of Horace’s cage. “Is this the bird you told me about?”

“Yes. That’s Horace. And he doesn’t like strangers.”

“Horace, huh?” He whisked the cover off the cage. “Named for the Roman poet?”

“Why—why yes. How did you—”

“Hello, Horace.” Jake raised an eyebrow. “Does the lady underestimate you as often as she underestimates me?”

Horace sent up a trilling song. Emily glared at him, then at Jake, and gave up.

“Enjoy your breakfast,” she said coldly, and started from the room. Jake snagged her wrist.

“I brought breakfast for two.”

“And I told you, I don’t like—”

“I heard you. Well, at least have the coffee, while it’s hot. ­Oh, come on. It’s not as if I’ve never seen the early-morning you.”

Damn the man. He was making her blush. “You’ve seen me in the office,” she said stiffly.

He smiled. Slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. he looked her over from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, then back up again.

“Right,” he said softly. “In the office. And I have to tell you, this is a big improvement.”

Emily’s blush deepened. “I hardly think so.”

“Well, that’s where we differ. I find flannel and a wild mane of hair a lot sexier than a clip at the nape of your neck and an oversized tweed suit.”

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