That got her attention. Spring backed frantically away from him, pressing herself uncomfortably against the door behind her. "I've already told you, Clay, we are not going to have an affair."
Flashing his most boyishly charming grin, Clay grabbed the hand that was pushing forcefully against his chest and kissed her knuckles. "We're already having an affair, Spring. We just haven't made love yet."
"Nor will we," she snapped, jerking her hand out of his and shoving it shakily through her tangled hair. Summer's hat. She couldn't find the hat. She looked wildly around for it, talking rapidly as she grabbed her purse and the borrowed fedora and held them protectively against her breasts. "What happened just now was a mistake. I can't—I won't let it happen again."
"It will happen again." Clay spoke almost lazily as he watched her frantic preparations for escape with visible amusement. "Again and again and again, until you admit that it's utterly ridiculous to try to deny this thing that's between us. You can call it love or lust or earth-shaking attraction, but it's there, and it's not going to go away."
"Then we'll just have to ignore it," she declared. Call it love, he had said. No. She wouldn't call it love.
"Can't you see that this won't work, Clay?" She was almost pleading now. "I'm just not the type who can handle this sort of thing. Please don't ask for something I can't give."
His face softened and took on an expression of such sweetness that it brought a lump to her throat. He touched her cheek, fleetingly, not enough to force her to draw back again. "Darling, you've already given it. You just haven't admitted it yet."
Given what? Her heart? "No, Clay," she whispered, shaking her head.
He knew when to quit—temporarily. "I'll walk you to the door."
Before she could protest, he was out of the car and at her side as she walked in awkward silence to the front door of her sister's home. She used the key that Summer had given her, then paused with one hand on the doorknob. "Clay, I—"
He silenced her with a quick kiss on her slightly swollen lips. "Good night, Spring. You'll be seeing me around in the next few days. A lot."
Threat or promise, the words held a note of determination that she had to take seriously. Without giving her a chance to reply, Clay whirled on one orange tennis shoe and left her staring after him.
* * *
Thirty minutes later Spring stood before the mirror in her bedroom, brushing out her hair as Summer sat cross-legged on the bed, her compact body almost quivering with frustration. "Aren't you going to tell me anything about your date with Clay?" Summer demanded, her elbows on her knees as she stared at her sister's reflection.
"I told you it was nice."
Summer snorted inelegantly. "Nice. Yuck."
Spring set down her brush and turned, tightening the sash of her pastel flowered robe. "What's wrong with nice?"
"It's insipid. It's something you'd say about a date with your ex, Roger. Not Clay."
Spring sighed. "What do you want me to say, Summer?"
"That you had an exciting, adventurous evening. That you'll never forget a minute of it. Say something romantic and sweet that will make me believe there's still hope for you."
Shaking her head, Spring dropped to sit on the edge of the bed, stretching her bare feet out in front of her on the plush carpet. "Summer, we went to a junior-high-school play and then had dinner at a little Italian restaurant with an odd name that I've already forgotten. Does that sound like the kind of date you just described?"
"No. But then, you were with Clay McEntire. He has a way of making seemingly mundane things extraordinary."
"All right, dammit! My date with Clay was exciting. And adventurous. I'll never forget a single moment of it. Does that make you happy?"
Blinking at her sister's uncharacteristic show of temper, Summer leaned forward slightly. "Was it something I said?"
Spring groaned and hid her face in her hands. "God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to jump all over you like that. It's just that...that..." Her voice trailed off.
"Clay's getting to you, right?" Summer tried to sound sympathetic but wasn't particularly successful since her brilliant blue eyes were sparkling with delighted pleasure.
Dropping her hands, Spring straightened her spine. "Okay, so maybe I am a bit...infatuated with him," she admitted carefully. "But that's all it is. He's good-looking and interesting and amusing. It's perfectly natural for me to be attracted to him. What woman wouldn't be?"
"Of course," Spring agreed gravely.
"But that doesn't mean that there's anything developing between us. Nothing lasting, I mean. There couldn't be."
"Why not?"