The Tycoon's Desire. Anna DePalo

chuckled. “Oh, Allison, they mean well. Quentin, for one, is genuinely concerned about your safety.”

      “I know. I just wish they’d give me a little more credit. Besides, there are practically four of them. Connor could give the other three a run for the money in the overprotectiveness category.”

      Liz gave her a sympathetic look.

      Allison sighed in exasperation. “Connor’s made himself at home in the townhouse. Yesterday he was inspecting door locks and checking windows. He already has his people installing a home alarm system with a direct alert to the police.”

      The alarm system had made her more comfortable, she conceded. It was just who was supervising the installation that bothered her.

      “Hmm.” Liz looked down at the nursing baby. “There was a time when you would have done somersaults for attention from Connor.”

      Allison made a noncommittal sound in her throat. Liz knew all about her teenaged humiliation at Connor’s hands. “I got tired of dining on the crumbs of that table a long time ago.”

      “I’d be shocked if a daughter of mine were dining on the crumbs of any table,” Ava Whittaker said as she entered from the doorway leading to the family room.

      Allison watched as her mother—looking elegant as always, her coifed hair as dark as Allison’s own but tinged with some gray—sank into a nearby wicker chair. “Mom, how could you say that in there?”

      “Say what, dear?” Her mother bestowed an indulgent gaze on the baby.

      Allison waved a hand. “Grateful, Mom? Peace of mind? Whatever happened to ‘a woman is perfectly capable of taking care of herself’? Usually I can count on you at least in this family.”

      Her mother had practically raised her children alone while her father built Whittaker Enterprises. When the youngest of her children had reached her teens, Ava had gone to law school and eventually become a respected family court judge. Allison’s mother was her hero, her role model.

      Her mother’s gaze drifted back from the baby to her. “Of course I know you can take care of yourself. But there’s nothing wrong with thanking Connor for his help when you may be in real danger.” She paused. “In fact, I hope you haven’t forgotten the manners I tried to instill in you and have already thanked him yourself. Have you?”

      Allison quashed the niggle of guilt. Her mother had a sneaky way of turning the tables on her. “The way all of you were falling over yourselves to thank him, you’d think he’d taken on his worst client ever.”

      Her mother raised her eyebrows and smiled. “Allison, you know we meant nothing of the kind. Your brothers were just teasing, and usually you’re besting them at their own game.”

      “Yes, well, think of the inconveniences that Connor has to put up with!” Allison sat up in her chair and pretended to think for a second before snapping her fingers. “I know! I made him pace downstairs waiting for me to get ready this morning.” She glanced at Elizabeth, who was looking mildly amused. “You know how I love long, hot showers.”

      Her mother tried and failed to look as if she were seriously concerned.

      Allison glanced from her mother to Liz and back. “Hasn’t it occurred to anyone in this family that I’m, for all intents and purposes, living with a man?” She covered her mouth in a mock gasp, then threw up her hands. “I mean, if it had been anyone but Connor, your reaction would have been the opposite of peace of mind and, guaranteed, Matt and Noah wouldn’t have been wishing him luck.”

      “But it is Connor, dear.” Ava paused. “Unless you’re suggesting something is going on between the two of you?”

      “Of course not!” The thought was ridiculous. “The Kiss” didn’t count. “I was just arguing the what if? Is it so beyond the realm of possibility that Connor and I would find living together—” she searched for the right words, then gave up “—sexually awkward?” Not only that, it was too intimate, too personal, too everything!

      A gleam came into her mother’s eyes. “Oh, I see.”

      She knew that gleam. The last time her mother had it, she’d just found out Liz and Quentin were having a baby.

      Frustrated, Allison slumped back into her chair in defeat. “No, you don’t see, Mom.”

      She’d meant to use the co-habitation issue as a hook to gain some maternal support by making it clear why Connor living with her in the townhouse was an untenable situation. Unfortunately, the plan had backfired: her mother was looking pleasantly surprised.

      “Well, what I do understand,” Ava said, “is that there’s a perfectly nice young man in there.”

      Allison stared moodily out at the lawn and wondered idly how Connor would have liked being called “a nice young man.”

      “And, if someone were interested, I’d say she couldn’t do better.”

      Allison nodded at Liz. “Can you see her counting the grandbabies? You and Quentin have opened the floodgates.”

      Liz righted the baby, who’d finished feeding. “Well, you have to admit, Connor is a catch.” She added, at Allison’s look, “If you were interested, I mean.”

      “Speaking of grandbabies—” Ava took Nicholas from Liz and placed him over her shoulder to burp. “As much as I love this little sweetheart, my only regret is that Quentin and Liz didn’t have time to plan a formal wedding.” Ava stood up and started pacing, looking at Allison over the baby’s head. “So, my darling, I suggest you make sure to take those long, hot showers by yourself. Leave the cold ones to Connor.”

      “Mom!”

      Liz looked momentarily shocked and then started giggling.

      Ava headed to the doorway, a smile on her face.

      “We don’t even like each other!” Allison called to her mother’s retreating back. “We mix like oil and vinegar!”

      She turned back to Liz. “Why am I explaining myself?”

      “I think you’re protesting too much.”

      She grabbed a pillow from a nearby chair and tossed it at Elizabeth, who laughed and ducked.

      The next week was a blur for Allison. Connor had finished seeing to the security system installation at the townhouse, and she and Connor had settled into a regular routine. Each morning, no matter how early, she made it to the front door only to discover Connor was already waiting for her, car keys in hand. If she didn’t call him at the end of the day, he’d phone her and ask when he needed to pick her up at the office.

      She tried to dodge him on Wednesday, but he just showed up at her office anyway and waited a half-hour for her to finish working. She’d felt like a heel, no matter how much she told herself he deserved it for barging into her life and her house.

      Yet, despite doing her best to treat him as if he were no more than a speck of dust on the wall, the two of them continued to rub up against each other. His papers and computer were set up in a corner of her study and his personal belongings were in her house.

      But what really bothered her, she admitted to herself, was the intimacy of their living situation. She’d been trying to make a point to her mother when she’d used the words sexually awkward, but the truth wasn’t far afield.

      On Thursday morning, as she was getting ready for work, she’d realized the shirt for the outfit she was putting on was hanging in the hall closet. Knowing Connor was showering, she’d dashed out of her bedroom clad only in her bra and skirt.

      She’d just turned to head back to her bedroom, pleased to have found the shirt she’d sought, when the bathroom door had unexpectedly opened and her gaze had collided with Connor’s.

      His only covering was a towel