Why, they’re joking with each other, Rachel realized. Like brothers. Very much like brothers. Delighted, she linked arms with both of them. “If either of you takes on Alex, you’ll be in for a surprise. He’s meaner than he looks. And the only thing I’m nervous about is that I won’t get my share of dinner. I’ve seen both of you eat.”

“This from a woman who packs it away like a linebacker.”

Rachel narrowed her eyes at Zack. “I merely have a healthy appetite.”

He grinned down at her. “Me too, sugar.”

She was wondering how to control the sudden leap of her heart rate when a car skidded to a halt in the street beside them. “Hey!” the driver called out.

“Hey back.” Rachel broke away to walk over to greet her brother and sister-in-law. Bending into the tiny window of the MG, she kissed Mikhail and smiled at his wife. “Still keeping him in line, Sydney?”

Cool and elegant beside her untamed-looking husband, Sydney smiled. “Absolutely. Difficult jobs are my forte.”

Mikhail pinched his wife’s thigh and nodded toward the sidewalk. “So what’s the story there?”

“They’re my guests.” She gave Mikhail a long, warning look that she knew was wasted on him before calling to Nick and Zack. “Come meet my brother and his long-suffering wife. Sydney, Mikhail, this is Zackary Muldoon and Nicholas LeBeck.”

His eyes shielded by dark glasses, Mikhail took a careful survey. He had a brother’s natural lack of faith in his sister’s judgment. “Which is the client?”

“Today,” Rachel said, “they’re both guests.”

Sydney leaned over and jammed her elbow sharply in Mikhail’s ribs. “It’s very nice to meet you, both of you. You’re in for quite a treat with Nadia’s cooking.”

“So I hear.” Zack kept his eyes on Mikhail as he answered, and lifted a proprietary hand to Rachel’s shoulder.

Mikhail’s fingers drummed on the steering wheel. “You own what? A bar?”

“No, actually, I’m into white slavery.”

That got a chuckle from Nick before Rachel shook her head. “Go park your car.”

As they retreated to the sidewalk, Nick smiled over at Rachel. “I see what you mean now about older brothers. Being a pain must go with the position.”

“Responsibility,” Zack told him. “We just pass on the benefit of our experience.”

“No,” Rachel said, “what you are is nosy.” Amused, she gestured toward the sound of voices and laughter. Mikhail and Sydney were already at the door of the row house, hugging and being hugged. “This is it.” When Rachel spotted Natasha, she gave a cry of pleasure and dashed up the steps.

Hanging back a little, Zack watched Rachel embrace her sister. Natasha was slighter, more delicately built, with rich brown eyes misted with tears, and tumbled raven curls raining down her back. Zack’s first thought was that this could not be the mother of three Rachel had described to him. Then a young boy of six or seven squeezed between the women and demanded attention.

“You let in the cold!” This was bellowed from inside the house in a rumbling male voice that carried to the sidewalk and beyond. “You are not born in barn.”

“Yes, Papa.” Her voice sounded meek enough, but Rachel winked at her nephew as she lifted him up for a kiss. “My sister, Natasha,” she continued, as they stood in the open doorway. “And my boyfriend, Brandon. And,” she said when a toddler wandered up to hang on Natasha’s legs, “Katie.”

“You pick me up,” Katie demanded, homing in on Nick. “Okay?” She was already holding up her arms, smiling flirtatiously. Nick cleared his throat and glanced at Rachel for help. When he only got a smile and a shrug, he bent down awkwardly.

“Sure. I guess.”

An expert at such matters, Katie settled herself on his hip and wound an arm around his neck.

“She enjoys men,” Natasha explained. When her father bellowed again, she rolled her eyes. “Come inside, please.”

Zack was struck by the sounds and the scents. Home, he realized. This was a home. And stepping inside made him realize he’d never really had one himself.

The scents of ham and cloves and furniture polish, the clash of mixed voices. The carpet on the stairway leading to the second floor was worn at the edges, testimony to the dozens of feet that had climbed up or down. The furniture in the cramped living room was faded with sun and time, crowded now with people. A gleaming piano stood against one wall. Atop it was a bronze sculpture. He recognized the faces of Rachel’s family, melded together, cheek to cheek, flanked by two older, proud faces that could only be her parents’.

He didn’t know much about art, but he understood that this represented a unity that could not be broken.

“So you bring your friends, then leave them in the cold.” Yuri sat in an armchair, cuddling a sprite of a girl. His big workingman’s arms nearly enveloped the pretty child, who had a fairy’s blond hair and curious eyes.

“It’s only a little cold.” Rachel bent to kiss her father, then the girl. “Freddie, you get prettier every time I see you.”

Freddie smiled and tried to pretend she wasn’t staring at the young blond man who was holding her little sister. But she had just turned thirteen, and whole worlds were opening up to her.

Rachel went through another round of introductions. Freddie turned the name Nick LeBeck over in her head while Yuri shouted out orders.

“Alexi, bring hot cider. Rachel, take coats upstairs. Mikhail, kiss your wife later. Go tell Mama we have company.”

Within moments, Zack found himself seated on the couch, scratching the ears of a big, floppy dog named Ivan and discussing the pros and cons of running a business with Yuri.

Nick felt desperately self-conscious with a baby on his knee. She didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get down. And the little blond girl named Freddie kept studying him with solemn gray eyes. He glanced away, wishing their mother would come along and do something. Anything. Katie snuggled up and began to toy with his earring.

“Pretty,” she said, with a smile so sweet he couldn’t help but respond. “I have earrings, too. See?” To show off her tiny gold hoops, she turned her head this way and that. “’Cause I’m Daddy’s little gypsy.”