Sydney knew the type. She’d gone to college with more than one girl whose only aim was to nab a Harvard Law School student so she could live in a big house, drive a Mercedes and never have to work again.

She wondered if Russ thought she was that type. And come to think of it, she’d been acting like money was the solution to all problems, when she well knew it wasn’t.

“Sammy put her up in a nice apartment, but he wouldn’t move her into his house. And he wouldn’t marry her, not even when she deliberately got herself pregnant with me. But he paid her well. She had the clothes, the car, the jewelry. She also had a cocaine habit, a gambling addiction and a lot of shallow friends who used her because she could buy them booze and drugs and they could hang out at her place.

“Then one day, it wasn’t enough. Winnie threatened to break things off with Sammy unless he married her. So he did-in a bogus ceremony that was never registered with the state.”

“That’s how I found you,” Sydney said. “The bogus wedding records. You were, what, about three at the time?”

He nodded. “I don’t remember it. So they were supposedly married, but Sammy still wouldn’t move Mom in with him.”

“And she put up with that?”

“For a while. Eventually she got tired of his lies and she wanted to leave. But by then she was so addicted to the high-flying lifestyle, she couldn’t. The idea of having to get a job, a real job-her showgirl days were over-terrified her.

“Then one day, Sammy made the decision for her. He’d fallen in love with one of Mom’s so-called friends and wanted to marry her, which of course infuriated Mom even more since by then she’d figured out her marriage wasn’t legal.”

“Paula,” Sydney added.

“Right. But Sammy had to get me and Mom out of the picture. I think I already told you that part. He paid us off to move far, far away.”

“How old were you then?” This story both fascinated and repulsed Sydney. She’d gotten the idea that Sammy Oberlin wasn’t a kind and gentle soul, but it sounded as if he was downright cruel to string along a woman-the mother of his child-for years on end.

“I was twelve. We moved to Dallas, which was far enough away to suit Sammy. Mom thought living in the town where Neiman Marcus was born would be the ultimate. But it turned into a nightmare. Sammy paid Mom a chunk of money to go away and she seemed intent on spending it as fast as she could. But life in the fast lane caught up with her. After her third trip to rehab, social services took me away from her.”

“Oh, Russ.” Sydney couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been for a twelve-year-old boy to watch his mother self destruct.

“It was the best thing that could have happened, a wakeup call of sorts. Mom decided to move back to her hometown and live with her mother. She sobered up, regained custody and she took what remained of Sammy’s settlement to buy the Cut ’n’ Curl and go to beauty school. It was the first time I can remember that she set a goal and actually stuck with it. She was working harder than she ever had and for the first time in her life she was happy.”

“So because of that…you think having money is bad?” Sydney wasn’t going to try to change his mind. She’d promised. But she did want to understand.

“Money is bad for Winnie. Even though she knows it’s bad for her, she still plots out big-bucks schemes. She’s only had one real relapse, when my grandmother died and left her some cash. Not a whole lot, but enough. She took off for the casinos in Shreveport. I got a call a week later from the police. She’d lost it all-more than twenty thousand dollars-gambling. Got into a drunken brawl at a casino. Thankfully they agreed to drop the charges if I would take Winnie home.”

“How old were you then?”

Russ had to think. “Nineteen? Something like that.”

“Okay, let me see if I understand. Your mom’s quality of life is much higher when she doesn’t have access to wads of cash. But the inheritance would be strictly yours. Winnie isn’t mentioned in the will.”

“So you think I could inherit ten million dollars and not share? I shudder to think what my life would be like. Winnie would see an endless supply of cash-and her son, standing in the way. Try to imagine it. She would be pestering me constantly, just like she did Sammy. She’d want a new car, a mink coat, a vacation. And if I didn’t give it to her, I’d be a selfish pig. Even if I gave it all away to charity, she would be furious that I couldn’t spare her a measly million or two. But I believe a million dollars would kill her. Hell, twenty thousand nearly did.”

Russ shook his head. “We’ve built a great life in Linhart, but it wouldn’t take much to ruin that forever. I won’t do that, not to myself, not to Winnie.”

Finally, Sydney understood. Russ was protecting his mother, the only real family he had. Just as Sydney was trying to save her father. The same money that could put her father’s life back together could very well destroy Winnie’s-and Russ’s.

She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Okay.”

With that one word, she conveyed her total understanding and acceptance of his situation. And everything changed between them-everything. Gone were the suspicions, the antagonism, the frustrations that had marred their earlier encounters, leaving nothing but the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface from the moment they’d laid eyes on each other.

“You’re, uh, soup’s getting cold,” he said, his voice a little rough.

She hadn’t taken a single bite, she’d been so focused on Russ’s story. “I’m not really that hungry.” Not for food, anyway. She was hungry for connection. Now that they’d forged this thread of understanding, she longed for more. Clearing the air between them had cleared the way for true intimacy.

Provided Russ felt the same way.

He released her hand and stood suddenly, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. His gaze never left hers as he walked around the table. She quaked at the intensity of his gaze, the purpose in his movements as he pulled her chair out, with her still in it, and helped her stand.

“Thank you for understanding,” he said.

“Thank you for telling me. I know it can’t be easy, delving into such painful memories.”

“No, I’ll tell you what’s not easy. Standing here and refraining from ripping your clothes off.”

Okay, he got points for honesty. She straightened the collar of his shirt. “So why are you refraining? Yesterday you took off my shoe. In some countries, that means we’re married.”

He grinned, but only for a moment, because he soon had her in his arms and was kissing her with an intensity that literally stole her breath. She was light-headed and she clung to him to keep from falling. He smelled faintly of smoke from the fire and it was sexier than any high-priced designer cologne.

He broke the kiss and froze, looking off into space. “There’s a problem.”

“What?” No, no problems. Please. Tomorrow would be soon enough to deal with those.

“Birth control.”

“Don’t you have something here?” she asked, slightly desperate.

“Never brought a woman here. But maybe…” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and opened it. “Yes.”

Oh, thank goodness.

Without further ado he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

Russ couldn’t believe this was happening. How had a woman he’d tricked and lied to transformed into a willing lover? He didn’t deserve any consideration from her, but he wasn’t stopping to question it, not aloud. He just wanted her naked.

The cabin had warmed up during the day, thanks to a lot of winter sun. So though the bedroom was the coldest room in the cabin, it wasn’t nearly as inhospitable as it had been yesterday-and he wanted to make love to Sydney in a real bed.

The bed was unmade; neither of them had touched it since Russ had carried Sydney to the sofa the previous night. He set Sydney on it then found the light in the dark room and turned it on. He wanted to see her when he made love to her.

When he turned back to her, she was working on the buttons of her faded flannel shirt-an old shirt of his, actually, but it looked a helluva lot better on her.

“I thought you wanted me to undress you,” he teased, taking over the job of removing her shirt. Underneath she wore a silky bra the color of the inside of a shell, with lacy half cups that allowed her shadowy nipples to peek through.

She looked so pretty in the sexy garment, he almost didn’t want to take it off. But before he could even figure out how it fastened, she unclasped the front hook and shrugged out of it.

“Too slow.” Then she surprised him by reaching for his jeans and unfastening the buttons with unwavering purpose. No hesitation there.

Lord, he loved a woman who knew her mind, who craved sex and enjoyed it as much as he did.

Given the layers of clothes they’d been wearing for warmth, they undressed in record time. Russ fluffed the covers up and urged Sydney to climb under where they could be warm and cozy, and he followed her.

For a few moments he just held her, letting her get accustomed to his body next to hers, enjoying every inch of her soft skin pressed against his. He soon couldn’t resist kissing her again. She was responsive to his every touch and he explored her curves with his hands and mouth, pressing his face against her belly, blowing on her nipples, feeling her every shiver and sigh down to his marrow.

Sydney had never been made love to like this before. Though obviously fully aroused, Russ seemed in no hurry to get anyplace special. He explored her the way she might take in the sights, sounds and smells of an outdoor market, darting from booth to booth, tasting a sample of an orange here, a cantaloupe there, delighting in a pyramid of shiny red apples, feeling the texture of an avocado skin.