Mr. Predictable: Mr. Predictable / Too Many Cooks. Carol Finch

chocolate combined.

      His self-control hit the skids and his hands developed a will of their own. They mapped the full swells of her breasts, feeling her nipples harden against his prowling fingertips. Her nails raked over his back as he skimmed her ribs, measured the trim indentation of her waist and scanned the flare of her hips with his hands. Damn, she felt as if she were made to fit into his hands, fit against his aching male body.

      Light-headed from panting for breath, Jake experienced the sensation that he was tumbling off balance. Too late, he realized he and Moriah truly were off balance. Ol’ Sally had decided to step down the steep incline to have herself a drink at the river. When she lowered her head to slurp water Moriah and Jake were left with nothing to hold on to except each other. They somersaulted pell-mell over Sally’s downcast neck and landed with a splat—their arms and legs tangled up worse than a pretzel.

      Jake floundered upright, after swallowing a couple of gallons of water. He burst to the surface like a spouting whale, then glanced wildly around, trying to locate Moriah. She surfaced three feet away from him. Her long hair was plastered against the sides of her head and her eyes were as wide as serving platters. Sputtering, she struggled to catch her breath.

      Gape-mouthed, she stared at him and he stared back, his jaw sagging on its hinges. She appeared astounded—as he was—by kisses and caresses that carried the impact of a nuclear blast.

      He should say something, but his tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of his mouth and his waterlogged brain had short-circuited. He wasn’t sure what to expect from Moriah. Anger and indignation, probably. After all, he hadn’t exactly asked permission to kiss her breathless and put his hands all over her. Jeez, he couldn’t believe he’d done that! What the hell happened to his sense of decency?

      “Hey, you said do something impulsive,” he said before she could jump down his throat. “Besides, your flower garden ensemble needed watering.”

      Boy, that was totally lame, he thought with an inward groan. He expected her to rear back and slap him—it was what he deserved. Or at the very least, chew him out royally. Most women he knew would’ve been furious about getting their hair and makeup ruined by a dunking in the river.

      “Well,” she said eventually, “I did ask for impulsive, but that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. Next time I’ll be more specific.”

      When Moriah took an impromptu swim he decided to join her. For sure, he needed to cool his heels—and other parts of his body that had overheated. He wondered if she was suffering the same need to cool off and put some time and emotional distance between that explosive kiss that they had just experienced.

      Jake was more than a little relieved that Moriah chose to pretend the kiss didn’t happen, because that was fine by him. She piled on her horse and started yakkety-yakking about ways to reduce stress so his life would become more well-rounded and personally fulfilling. Jake tried to pay attention, he really did, but the way her wet clothes clung to her voluptuous body like a coat of paint was one hell of a distraction.

      MORIAH PULLED the cake from the oven, set it aside to cool, and then rifled through her cabinets for vanilla and a sack of powdered sugar. She had decided to make Jake’s birthday an event that would bring her guests and staff together for a party in the lobby. The occasion would serve two purposes—celebrating Jake’s birthday in a casual setting and creating time for informal conversation. There were no power lunches or business conferences at Triple R, and Moriah wanted her guests to function in laid-back settings. They needed to carry on conversations unrelated to business. One of their biggest problems was learning to broaden their focus of interests.

      Plus, this shindig would ensure Moriah wouldn’t be alone with Jake. Having discovered how wildly responsive she was to him had thrown her for a loop. After that scorching kiss, she’d needed a swim to get herself in hand. She’d told herself not to get involved with Jake. Yet, she’d stepped over the line—did a hundred-yard dash over it was more accurate! But damn, that man knew how to kiss and leave a woman burning—inside and out!

      Moriah told herself to calm down when she realized she was whipping the icing so frantically that she nearly beat the finish off the bowl. She was tense and she almost never got tense because she practiced breathing exercises and relaxation techniques. Yet, here she was, reliving that incredibly amazing kiss and wishing for more of the same. What was she thinking!

      “Relax,” she told herself sternly. “Focus.”

      “Pardon?”

      Moriah had been so distracted that she forgot she’d brought her dad over to her apartment for a private visit. He’d been making some electronic adjustments to his motorized cart and watching TV while she whipped up the cake.

      “Nothing, Dad. Just talking to myself.” She glanced over at her silver-haired father to note he was fumbling with the remote control. Her first impulse was to dash over to help him, but she stayed where she was. William Randell was learning to work around the partial paralysis in his left side and was determined to be as independent as possible.

      “Whose birthday did you say we’re celebrating tonight?” Will asked.

      “Jake Prescott’s.”

      “The new guy,” he said with a pensive nod. “The one who put up the big fuss about being here. Is he doing better?”

      “Uh…yeah. I saw him and his pup canoeing down the river this afternoon. I think he’s settling in.”

      “Anna said another guest arrived a couple of hours ago to replace the guest in cabin two. From Saint Louis, right?”

      “Right.” Moriah washed the powdered sugar off her hands, then plunked down on the sofa. “Very demanding sort of individual.”

      “Gonna be trouble?”

      “Probably. He’s expecting an instant fix to stressful habits he’s spent a lifetime developing.”

      “If anybody can teach him to relax and unwind, you can, hon,” he said confidently.

      Moriah leaned over to give her dad a peck on the cheek. “Thanks for your vote of confidence.”

      His hand folded over hers and she swallowed the lump that suddenly clogged her throat. For years they’d passed by each other like ships in the night without really knowing each other. Her dad had been a guest in his own home and Moriah never felt as if she understood him until he was forced into retirement and required her care.

      It had taken Will a year to adjust to his limited lifestyle, but now he spent his time modifying and creating electronic gadgets, whizzing around the resort on his cart and relaxing. Even better, she and Will had grown close these past three years.

      “Did I ever tell you how grateful I am to have a daughter like you?” he murmured appreciatively.

      She leaned over to give him an affectionate hug. “Did I ever tell you how grateful I am to have you?”

      He patted her shoulder. “Thanks, honey. Don’t know where I’d be without you.” He inclined his gray head toward the kitchenette. “Better finish up that cake before I get all blubbery on you. It’ll ruin the hard-ass image I maintained in the business world.” He tapped the remote against the armrest of his cart. “Damn gadget won’t work right. What idiot tinkered with the design of these things anyway?”

      Moriah chuckled as she bounded to her feet. “I do believe it was some of your technology that pioneered those gadgets. You were an electronic wizard in your day.”

      His eyes twinkled and he smiled, though the muscles in the left side of his cheek drooped noticeably. “I was, wasn’t I?”

      “Damn straight, Dad.”

      While Will turned his attention to the new remote he’d designed to control all the lights in Moriah’s apartment, she iced the cake—and cursed herself soundly when her thoughts circled back to Jake. She couldn’t keep avoiding him. She’d left a rose on his doorstep this morning and asked Tom Stevens to deliver the glass of wine