His Summer Bride. Joanna Neil

another as a study. There’s also a bedroom and bath downstairs off the kitchen. You can have it.”

      Gina blinked. Eight bedrooms and one bathroom? That must have caused a few problems in the mornings.

      “Come on. I’ll show you where your room is,” Nick said.

      Gina followed him through the archway to the side of the living room and into a huge kitchen.

      “The kitchen’s kind of…” Nick waved his arm around the room.

      Gina winced. It certainly was. The room reminded her of the before pictures of a renovated, inner-city house she’d seen featured in the Sunday papers a few weeks ago.

      “My mother threatened to gut this room and completely remodel it, but my dad refused to hear of it,” Nick confided. “He used to say that, if it was good enough for his father, it was good enough for him.”

      “Your mother has my heartfelt sympathy,” Gina said.

      “Oh, she took care of the problem,” he said. “When they retired and moved to Florida, she gave the house to me, and I don’t mind. I mean, Dad was right in a way. My great-grandmother used to prepare meals here with no trouble.”

      “Your great-grandmother also didn’t have penicillin,” she shot back. “That doesn’t mean she was better off.”

      “Does that mean you don’t like it?” Nick glanced around, and Gina’s heart constricted at his uncertain expression. Poor man, he probably couldn’t afford to even replace the World War II–era appliances, let alone remodel the whole room. It was hardly kind for her to make him feel bad about it.

      “It’ll do just fine for the short time I’ll be here.” I hope, she added mentally with a jaundiced look at the ancient gas stove.

      “Where is my room?” she asked. “And may I borrow a pair of your pajamas?”

      Nick felt his entire body clench at the thought of her intense femininity actually inside his clothes.

      Down, Balfour. You give her even a clue as to what you’re thinking, and she’ll be out of here so fast you won’t even see her go.

      “Sorry, I don’t use pajamas,” he said. “How about a T-shirt instead?”

      Gina swallowed at the captivating thought of his body sprawled out on his bed wearing nothing at all.

      “That’s fine.” Her voice sounded odd to her, and she rushed on, hoping he hadn’t noticed. “I think I’ll go to bed now. I know it isn’t all that late, but I’ve been driving since six this morning, and traveling always makes me tired.”

      Gina winced as her breathless babble echoed in her ears.

      To her relief Nick didn’t seem to notice.

      “I’ll get you a T-shirt then. Your room is through there.” He pointed to a hallway behind her. “And sheets for your bed are in the linen closet in the bathroom.”

      “Just leave the shirt on the kitchen table,” Gina told him, and then beat a hasty retreat to her room. She desperately needed some time alone to regain her normal equilibrium. Exploring life’s possibilities was a lot more nerve-racking than she would have thought.