“She’s a good granddaughter,” Nathan said, his tone respectful.

“I couldn’t ask for a better one.” Grandmillie reached over to touch Chloe’s hand.

Chloe felt a surge of tears at Grandmillie’s public compliment. She glanced at Nathan to find him staring at the older woman’s hand lying on top of Chloe’s, his face tight with an emotion she couldn’t identify.

He raised his eyes and met hers. “You’re both very fortunate.” He folded his napkin and laid it on the table. “I shouldn’t impose on your hospitality any longer.”

Grandmillie waved a hand of disagreement. “Sit. Have another scone before you go.”

His strange expression evaporated as he leaned back in his chair with a groan, his hand on his washboard-flat abdomen. “I can’t swallow another bite.”

“You’ll take some home with you, then,” Grandmillie said.

“With pleasure,” Nathan said.

Chloe stood, picking up the basket of scones and her own plate and knife. Nathan also rose, his head nearly colliding with the chandelier hanging low over the table. As he started to clear the dishes in front of her grandmother, Chloe said, “It’s okay. I’ll get those later.”

He ignored her, deftly arranging the cup, saucer, plate, and flatware for easy carrying. “I have to earn my scones.”

“Your mother raised you right,” Grandmillie said.

Chloe caught the shadow that turned Nathan’s eyes flat, as though he was hiding all emotion. She remembered Ed’s description of Nathan’s mother and realized Grandmillie had touched a nerve with her comment about how he was raised.

Wishing she could comfort him but not knowing how, Chloe led the way to the kitchen. “Just put the dishes on the counter,” she said as she pulled a plastic baggie from a drawer.

Nathan carefully slid the fine china onto the Formica countertop. She watched him glance around the kitchen and wondered what he thought of her little house. She’d painted the dated pine cabinets a crisp, glossy white when they moved in, and the Formica on the counters was a cheerful indigo-and-yellow plaid, but her place was like a fiberglass dinghy compared to his luxurious ocean liner of a home.

He leaned a hip against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. “The job you interviewed for today is at a good-sized company. Have you rethought your policy about not working for large corporations?”

Chloe dropped several scones into a baggie and kept her voice low. “I don’t have the luxury of that policy anymore.”

“Because of your grandmother?” His voice was soft too.

She nodded. “She’s worth the compromise.”

“I was hoping I had something to do with your change of heart,” he said, moving to stand behind her. He lifted her hair from the back of her neck to press his lips on the sensitive skin as he trapped her against the counter with his body. Shivers of pleasure radiated down her spine.

She poked him in the ribs. “My grandmother is on the other side of that wall.”

He took a step back. “And I haven’t done anything she would disapprove of. In this kitchen,” he added.

She turned and held out the filled baggie. “For your breakfast tomorrow.”

He took the scones with a heavy-lidded look. “I’d rather have you for breakfast.” That sent more than mere shivers racing through her. She was about to shush him when he continued, “But there’s always the dressing room at Saks.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” She choked on a laugh as she headed for the door.

He caught her wrist to stop her. There was no teasing in his voice or his face as he looked down at her. “When it comes to you, I’ll dare many things.”

The intensity of his gaze sent a tiny thrill of excitement and panic ricocheting around inside her rib cage. She stared up at him, feeling like a rabbit caught in the hypnotic spell of a snake.

“Keep that in mind,” he said, releasing her wrist and waving her through the kitchen door in front of him.

Somehow she got through the polite good-byes. Nathan gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek at the front door before he headed for the car, his long strides making their modest walkway seem even shorter.

She stood watching as the Rolls glided into motion, noting with relief that the windows were as opaque as Nathan had promised.

As she came back into the living room, where her grandmother sat in her favorite chair, Grandmillie raised her hand in a warding-off gesture. “I wanted to see him for myself, so don’t chew me out.”

Chloe put her hands on her hips. “You might have warned me.”

“What would you have done differently if I had?”

Chloe looked around at the immaculate living room, and her indignation sputtered out. “I would have helped you clean the downstairs and set the table. You must be exhausted.”

“I got Lynda to help me with the cleaning in exchange for some scones.”

“I’m confused.” Chloe sat on the couch. “I thought you wanted me to marry him, but it sounded like you were trying to scare him away with all that talk about evil corporations.”

Her grandmother spun the neck of her cane between her palms. “He’s not what I expected.”

“Better or worse?”

Grandmillie stared down at her rotating cane for a long moment before looking at Chloe. “He’s not like your father’s friends. They were all brilliant scientists, but they were—what’s that word the teenagers use?—nerds. Easy for a smart woman to manage. Your Nathan”—Grandmillie shook her head—“he’s not the manageable sort.”