bought it with the advance from the sale of her first children’s book. Hardly anybody knew she worked; it was one of the few things that was hers alone. Dylan might find out if they got married, but then again, maybe not.
It wasn’t like they’d be sharing a bedroom or anything. Darn it.
Chapter Two
“It’s the pizza guy.”
Kate’s pulse jumped at the sound of Dylan’s voice coming from the other side of the front door. She took a last look at herself in the mirror and smoothed a strand of hair at her temple.
She’d taken great pains to dress casually in off-the-rack clothing. There wasn’t any need to remind him about her family’s money. Of course, he was very successful now, and his oldest brother’s current financial status made the Douglas fortune look like pocket change, but that didn’t alter the fact that at one time she’d been rich when he was poor.
“I hope that pizza is still hot,” she said, opening the door. “I don’t tip for cold deliveries.”
Dylan grinned. “You shouldn’t open the door without being sure it isn’t some weirdo on the other side.”
“I knew it was you, so there wasn’t any doubt it was a weirdo.”
“You have a real way about you, Katydid.”
Kate stepped back so he could enter. Dylan always seemed so big to her, maybe because he topped her by at least ten inches and eighty pounds of muscle. Lord, he gave her a weak feeling in the tummy. He wasn’t as perfectly handsome as his brothers, but he had a raw sexuality that was powerful and completely irresistible.
A secret smile tugged at her mouth.
Dylan’s rugged good looks caused a stir wherever he went. It wasn’t any wonder that the women he met at fund-raisers were curious about him, and more than a little envious when she showed up on his arm. Of course, the old guard of her grandmother’s generation could be snotty, but she’d seen them bowled over by his charm, nevertheless.
“I brought some wine,” Dylan said, waving a bag.
“Okay,” Kate said unenthusiastically.
He chuckled. “Don’t worry, I know you prefer milk with pizza.” Instead of a wine bottle, he pulled a carton of milk from the bag.
Just like that, he made her feel ten years old again. Milk was for little girls and kittens, not sophisticated women.
“Maybe I’ll have beer tonight,” she muttered, walking into her kitchen. The converted apartment over the garage was the one place on her grandmother’s estate that she liked. The garage had once been a carriage house with living quarters above, and it was hidden from the main house by a stand of trees. She had a private entrance to the estate, so her friends had been able to visit without being scrutinized by Nanna Jane.
Really, her grandmother should have worked for the CIA. She would have made a great spy.
Dylan set the pizza box on the old farm-kitchen table she’d rescued from a junk heap. Kate automatically opened the cupboard to get some plates, then shook her head. Dylan always said regular people didn’t eat pizza off plates—they just grabbed a napkin and chowed down.
“Have you…mmm…decided…” Her voice trailed, instincts telling her that he wasn’t ready to discuss anything beyond dinner. “That is, do you want beer or wine? I have your favorite beer, and I think I have some red wine, too.”
Dylan restrained his grin. “Milk is fine. You don’t need to have a drink on my account.”
“I’m over twenty-one, I can drink alcohol.”
“Yeah, but you don’t like it.”
She gave him a narrow look that announced he was on extremely thin ice. “This is about you thinking I’m still a child, right?”
“Chugging beer isn’t going to change my opinion one way or the other,” Dylan murmured. Kate was so cute with her feathers ruffled that he enjoyed shaking her up now and then.
She thumped two glasses on the table. “You’re impossible. A total pill.”
“I know.”
Dylan spied a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth and shook his head. She really was a sweet kid.
All afternoon he’d been thinking about her crazy plan to get married. He supposed that it was natural Kate would turn to him for help—he’d been playing protective big brother ever since they’d met. Despite her family’s money, she’d had a lonely childhood, spending more time with the family servants than with her family. When he’d come with his dad to wash the cars and do yard work she’d tagged along, always at his heels, asking questions and making him feel…
He sighed.
Might as well admit it, Kate had made him feel big and important, even though he was just a skinny youngster wearing hand-me-down jeans and T-shirts. In a funny sort of way she still made him feel big and important whenever they were together, teasing and calling him her best friend.
“Such a serious face.” Kate opened the carton of milk and filled their glasses. “If you behave yourself you can have a wine milkshake later.”
“And if I don’t behave, what do I get then?” Dylan’s voice deepened provocatively, startling him.
Where had that come from?
He’d never flirted with Kate. She was a bright, annoying kid who he was fond of, but he’d never considered anything romantic with her. Heck, he’d seen her knobby knees when she was a youngster and listened as she bemoaned her flat chest. Not that she was flat-chested any longer. In fact, she had a very nice set of measurements. So nice it was…he hastily put a brake on his unruly thoughts.
Kate blinked, obviously surprised. Then she tossed her head and gave him a slow smile. “You’ll get something better than a wine milkshake, that’s for sure.”
Dylan didn’t have time to decipher the expression in her eyes before she spun around and grabbed a shaker of crushed red pepper from the counter.
“Do you want fresh-grated Parmesan on your pizza?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Uh…I think they included some. Not fresh-grated, but good enough,” he muttered, still trying to sort out what had just happened. For God’s sake, he’d actually been flirting with a girl he regarded as a kid sister. Romance with Kate had never occurred to him, and if it had, he would have laughed at the idea. She was too rich, too flighty, too everything.
“Okay.”
She set the hot pepper sprinkles next to his glass of milk, which made him grin despite his inner turmoil. Kate didn’t like spicy food, which was why he always ordered their pizza as half vegetarian and half meat-lover’s special. She’d eat a couple pieces of the vegetarian and he’d have the rest.
Yet his smile faded as he gazed at the table. Kate had bought a special shaker and filled it with crushed red pepper after the time the restaurant
