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Ellie thought she should probably sleep there because Max was so much bigger than she was.

Or she could sleep with him. That thought sent her heart racing. No, that can’t happen, she told herself. She wanted him to go away, not stay… didn’t she?

Talk about conflicted. Back home, after their date, he’d kissed her senseless, and when he’d left, she had regretted not sleeping with him. And now? Max was just feet away from her, and right this minute she couldn’t come up with a single reason why she shouldn’t throw herself into his arms.

The apartment seemed to be closing in on her. The air conditioner had stopped, and the temperature was rising. Thinking about wrapping her arms around Max’s hard body wasn’t helping her cool off. Just one night. What would be the harm?

Ellie went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth again just to give herself time to come to her senses. Yes, she wanted him. Okay, nothing wrong with admitting it, and, yes, it would be amazing and electrifying, but it would also just be a brief physical release. A great, mind-blowing release, she qualified.

The fantasies were bombarding her, but she blocked them from her mind. She couldn’t let her hormones or her animal instincts take control. Besides, Max would still be here in the morning, so she couldn’t pretend she’d had a temporary lack of sanity.

She took a good long look in the mirror and shook her head at her reflection. She wanted more than casual sex. She wanted romance. She felt silly admitting it, even though it was true. She had worked so long and so hard on her career that it had all but consumed her, leaving no room for the fanciful or the impractical. But deep down, it had always been there. She was a romantic at heart. There wasn’t anything practical or reasonable about it.

Okay, she’d made up her mind. She wasn’t a rabbit, and she wasn’t going to hop into bed with any man-no matter how hot he was-without first having an emotional connection.

As she was opening the door, it suddenly occurred to her that all her angst might have been for nothing. Max hadn’t made any moves or given any indication that he’d like to go to bed with her. Still, the electricity was there between them. If she could feel it, so could he.

When she entered the living room, Max was sitting on the sofa, leaning forward with all the broken pieces of the channel changer spread out on the ottoman in front of him. The old tape hadn’t held, and the plastic cover had broken in several places.

“Someone must have thrown this against a couple of walls,” he remarked. “Is there any tape around?”

“I’ll look,” she said as she retied the belt on her robe. It dragged on the floor when she walked into the kitchen, and she really wanted to take the thing off because the air was becoming stifling.

She found some Scotch tape in one of the kitchen drawers and two thick rubber bands.

Max quickly put the remote back together and reinforced it with the rubber bands, then he sat back and began to channelsurf. She sat down next to him.

“Men and their remotes,” she said, shaking her head.

“Women and their hair stuff,” he countered.

She laughed. “Hair stuff?”

He shrugged. “You know. That lacquer stuff they spray on their hair. You don’t,” he added, “but a lot of women do.”

“What do you mean, I don’t?”

He put his arm around her and his fingers slid through her hair. “It’s soft, not stiff, and my fingers don’t get caught.”

“What kind of women have you been going out with?”

He didn’t answer. He was rubbing the back of her neck, though, and it felt wonderful.

“Your hair’s so soft. Smells good, too. Like strawberries.”

“How do you know…”

He smiled. “I’ve got a good memory.”

Whoa. So did she. She remembered his mouth on hers, the touch of his tongue rubbing against hers, the taste of him, the way he’d held her in his arms, his masculine scent… oh yes, she had a good memory, too.

She cleared her throat. “It’s hot in here.”

“Yes, it is,” he said, turning back to the television. “Did you turn the air conditioner up?”

“I should explain how the thermostat works. It’s right outside your bedroom door,” she said. “You get the bigger bed because you’re…”

Wow. All he had to do was look at her, and she lost her train of thought. There was a warm glint in his eyes that captivated her. The man just kept getting better and better.

“Because I’m what?”

She didn’t have a clue. “What?”

He grinned. “You said I get the bigger bedroom…”

“Because you’re bigger than I am. It’s a queen, so your feet may still hang over.”

“And the thermostat?”

“What about it?” She really needed to stop staring at him so she could concentrate.

“What is it I need to know?”

She forced herself to look at the television when she explained. “It only has two settings no matter where you turn the dial. Hot, like now-only it will get hotter-or cold-and not just cold, arctic cold. You choose,” she said.

“Sweat or freeze are the choices?”

“Yes.”

“Freeze.”

She patted his knee. “Then that’s what we’ll hope for.”

He laughed. “You don’t have any control over it?”

“Sorry, no.”

She’d found out the night before how faulty the air conditioner was. She had alternated between near heatstroke and frostbite all night long. It was miserable. She had intended to mention the problem to her father this morning, but she’d forgotten about it until now, and the heat index was rapidly rising.

She loosened the neck of her robe and fanned herself. “Do you mind if I watch SportsCenter? The roundup is coming on soon.”

He handed her the remote as he asked, “How old is the air conditioner?”

“It’s brand-new.”

“Then why…”

She found the channel, muted the program that was ending, and turned to Max. “Daddy got a deal,” she explained. “He doesn’t buy anything unless he can get a great deal.”

“I don’t care if he got it for half price, if it doesn’t work-”

“Half price isn’t a deal to my father. Eighty percent maybe, but not fifty.”

He shook his head. “He should take it back.”

“Yes, he should,” she agreed. “But he won’t. He’ll get a repairman to fix it one of these days. I’ll mention it to him tomorrow. Would you like a beer? You can’t watch SportsCenter without a beer.”

“Sweetheart, you’re a dream come true. A beautiful woman who likes SportsCenter and drinks beer.”

“We’re not such a rare breed,” she said.

She put his unopened can of Diet Coke back in the refrigerator, got out two bottles of Bud Light and a jar of mixed nuts, and went back to the sofa. She handed Max one bottle, twisted the cap off the other, then tapped his bottle and took a drink.

She put the jar of nuts on the table and sat down next to him. “It’s getting hotter in here,” she said as she placed the cold bottle against the side of her neck. She adjusted her position on the couch a couple of times and ended up leaning into him. “I’d move over and give you some room, but there’s a lump, and it’s very uncomfortable. I think a spring’s about to pop through.”

“I like you pressed against me.”

“I’m not making you hot?” After asking the suggestive question, she put her bottle against his cheek. “Feel good?”

“You feel good. The roundup is on.”

It was one of her favorite shows, and tonight the topic was once again the upcoming football season. Simon’s name was mentioned about a dozen times. Max was answering texts, but she noticed he smiled whenever one of the commentators complimented his brother. He didn’t show any reaction to the criticisms.

Halfway through the program, Ellie removed her robe. She didn’t care whether it was appropriate or not. She was burning up.