out the sun, turning the midday sky as dark as twilight. Droplets of rain spattered the windshield.
They struggled up the sidewalk with the first batch of groceries. He had to shout over the rising wind and pelting rain. "You start a fire and I'll bring in the rest."
She staggered inside and dropped her bags on the dining-room table. "No, I'll help."
"I'll get it. You put the milk and cold stuff away."
She frowned. "I'm not some delicate pansy that can't handle a little wind and rain."
Maybe so, but he didn't want her out in the storm. "Did I say that?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "I'm starving. The sooner the food gets put away, the quicker we can chow down."
"You've got a hollow leg, Mr. Bond. As much as you eat, you should weigh three hundred pounds. What sounds good?"
"High metabolism." Laughing, he dumped his load and strode toward the door. "Three or four sandwiches would be great."
He brought in the remaining bags. After checking the flashlights, he positioned candles on the fireplace mantel. Then he kicked off his wet shoes and stripped off his socks, stretching his bare feet toward the warm, crackling flames.
Tessa had just set steaming bowls of tomato soup and a stack of grilled cheese sandwiches on the table when his cell phone chirped. She jerked upright, color leaching from her face. "Leo?" she whispered.
He pressed the phone to his ear, and his boss's gravelly voice rumbled over the line. Shaking his head no at Tessa, Gabe hurried to his bedroom to take the call. Her part was finished. He didn't want her sucked any farther into this mess.
When he returned, she stood frozen in the same spot.
"My boss with last-minute details." Her tense posture eased, but she was trembling. "C'mon, Houdini, let's eat. That grub looks great."
She relaxed somewhat over lunch, but her face remained ashen. The anticipated call from Leo really had her on edge. He stacked his dishes in the dishwasher, and she remained silent while doing the same.
He hated to see her all uptight and worried. Maybe he could distract her, cheer her up. "Want to play a game?"
A wary expression creased her brows. "What kind of game?"
"Oh, ye of little faith." He smiled with exaggerated innocence. "There's a Monopoly board in the closet. What did you think I was going to suggest?"
A rosy blush pinkened her pale cheeks. "After your handcuff stunt, who knows?" She smiled back at him. "Monopoly is fine. Nothing kinky involved."
The next several hours passed in playful conversation and laughter while she ruthlessly drove him to bankruptcy. Finally, he threw down his last piece of property in mock disgust. "I should have known better than to play Monopoly with a banker."
The wind and rain had risen steadily all afternoon, and the day had darkened as black as midnight. Without warning, a heavy gust of wind slammed into the side of the house. An earsplitting boom exploded outside. Tessa nearly leapt out of her chair. The lights flickered, then went out.
"Whoa, we lost a transformer." He lit the candles over the mantel, grabbed two and carried them to the table. He studied her somber face. "The storm bothering you?"
"No. The noise just startled me when the transformer blew."
He slanted an assessing glance in her direction, wanting to bring back the carefree, laughing woman from a few minutes ago. "Since I can't win at Monopoly, how about a game of poker?"
"I guess I could try it. Can you explain the game to me?"
"No problem." He fetched a deck of cards. "We'll practice with a dummy hand to give you the idea."
She listened with rapt attention to his explanation of the rules, and studiously wrote down the ranking. They played out the practice round, which she lost by risking everything on a pair of fours.
"I think I've got the idea. What shall we bet?"
An irresistible spark of mischief goaded him into a grin. He couldn't pass up the chance to bait her. "How about our clothes? Unless you're too chicken?"
Instead of huffily shooting him down as he expected, she appeared to consider the idea. His groin tightened. "I was kidding."
She tilted her head. "Backing out on me?"
Oh, hell. "You seriously want to play strip poker?"
"Why not? I'm open to new experiences these days. Strip poker might be fun. Unless you don't think you can handle it?"
Oh, hell on a Popsicle stick. He gulped. "I can handle it." How well could he play with his eyes shut? Because that's the only