She’d read the expression in books and had never believed it, but at that moment all her internal organs zipped down her legs and splatted onto her feet.

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think, which was probably a good thing. Panic flooded her. While she was willing to accept being punished for lying, she resented the punishment not fitting the crime. This so wasn’t fair.

Zach Stryker, smooth sophisticate, powerful lawyer, and her newest client, stood in the center of the Marcelli kitchen.

Horror joined panic as she remembered all the things she’d told her mother and grandmother about him. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. She wanted to disappear into a puff of black smoke.

Instead she was forced to just stand there, immobilized by frozen muscles, while Zach raised one eyebrow in obvious surprise.

“Katie?”

Her mother looked at her. “You two know each other?”

Before Katie could come up with some swell lie to cover the other lie she’d already told, Zach spoke.

“My law firm recently hired Katie to plan a big charity party for us.”

Katie braced herself, but it didn’t help. Not when Grandma Tessa scurried close and clutched Zach’s arm. “Ooh, so you’re the handsome man she was telling us about.”

Zach’s other eyebrow joined the first. Katie moaned softly as heat raced up her cheeks to her hairline. Oh, God. Now what?

Well, this being her life, it got worse.

Grammy M took Zach’s other arm. “Our Katie says you’re a very special man.”

“I—” She swallowed and tried again. “Not really.”

The corner of Zach’s mouth quirked. “You don’t think I’m special?”

“No. I mean—”

“Katie.” Grammy M’s gaze turned reproachful. “Don’t be insultin’ our guest.”

She wanted to die.

To complete the thrill of the moment, both Grands chose to release Zach and leave her alone with him. She clutched the last bottle of Cabernet to her chest and wondered what would happen if she hit herself in the head with it.

Zach shoved his hands into his slacks pockets. “Small world,” he said easily.

Of course, it was easy for him, she thought bitterly. He’d been invited to a free, live show.

“Just my luck,” she muttered, then sighed. The best course of action was to pretend none of this had actually happened. “So you’re David’s father?”

“Guilty.”

“But you’re so…” She hesitated, not sure how to phrase the obvious.

“I was seventeen when David was born,” he told her, answering her question without her having to ask it.

He leaned toward her. “You told your family you thought I was hot, huh?”

She winced as the heat on her face returned. “Those exact words never crossed my lips.”

“But something close.”

Obviously the man didn’t have an ego problem. Unfortunately she was hardly in a position to put him in his place.

For a second she thought about explaining why she’d said what she had, but he was unlikely to believe her. Women threw themselves at Zach. Why would he think she was any different?

“I’ll recover,” she said, striving for a light, cheerful tone. “Don’t sweat it.”

“Maybe I want to.”

His low words rubbed against her skin like velvet. Man oh man, he might be not her type, but did he know how to use what he had to the greatest advantage.

“We have a working relationship,” she told him. “I intend to respect that.”

“All work and no play…”

“I’ll risk being dull.”

“Want to bet I can change your mind?”

Yes! Her hormones had already taken a vote and offered their opinion. Part of her couldn’t believe he was coming on to her. And while sex without emotional commitment had never tempted her, she was suddenly all aquiver to find out if it had any redeeming qualities at all.

She was saved from answering when her father came up and claimed Zach.

“Let’s leave the cooking to the women,” he said.

Grandpa Lorenzo joined his son, slapped Zach on the back, and led him to the study.

Katie set down the bottle of wine and breathed a sigh of relief. She’d just survived the most humiliating experience of her life and deserved some kind of tasteful award.

Instead, Grammy M winked at her. “David’s father seems very nice. A strong man.”

Grandma Tessa picked up the refrain. “Smart, too. A lawyer. I can see why you liked him.”

Katie wanted to protest that “like” didn’t begin to describe what she felt, but she couldn’t at this late date. Okay—if God was trying to show her why it was stupid to lie, she’d learned her lesson.

Her mother leaned against the opposite side of the island. “Mia says David told her that Zach never remarried after his wife left. Could be he had a broken heart.”

“Time heals,” Grammy M said.

“A man who loved once is more likely to love again,” Grandma Tessa pronounced.

“One marriage leads to another.” Her mother beamed at her.

Katie leaned her elbows on the counter and covered her face with her hands. “Stop, I beg you.”

Grammy M patted her arm. “I’ll sit him across from you at dinner. He’ll spend the entire meal gazing into your pretty eyes, and by dessert he’ll be yours.”

Not knowing if she should laugh or cry, Katie contented herself with a strangled moan. “There are no words to describe my joy,” she whispered.

Her grandmother kissed her cheek. “I know, child.”

3

“T he cannolis can’t wait forever,” Grandma Tessa complained, checking the casserole dish in the top oven. “Where is that girl?”

Katie was about to explain about Brenna taking her husband to the airport when the back door opened and Brenna breezed inside.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said. “Traffic getting out of the city was awful. It’s the whole Friday thing.”

Brenna kissed her two grandmothers and mother, then hugged Katie.

“I saw a Beamer parked outside. Who’s the company?”

Katie laughed as the older women rushed to the window and peered out into the darkness.

“I can’t see it,” Grammy M complained. She straightened and looked at Brenna. “Was it nice?”

“Very.”

The two grandmothers exchanged a look of satisfaction, then turned their attention to Katie. “Good-looking and well off,” Grandma Tessa said with a wink. “Good for you, Katie.”

Brenna looked confused.

Katie pulled her toward the dining room. “Remember Mia’s boyfriend? You met him around Christmas. Tall, blond hair, blue eyes, a little skinny?”

“Sure.”

“They’re engaged. He and his father have joined us for dinner, and we’re doing the celebration thing.”

“Wow! That’s great. So why is that good for you?”

They stepped into the dining room. A table that seated twenty filled the center of the room. Two hutches lined one adobe wall, while a long buffet sat against another. Two wrought-iron chandeliers illuminated the sparkling crystal and elegant china. Katie sat on an extra chair pushed under the high window.

“God is punishing me,” she said, and told Brenna about her attempt not to be bugged about her current boyfriend-free status.

Brenna covered her mouth to hold back hysterical laughter.

“It’s not funny,” Katie told her.

“Sorry, but it is. Something like that would only happen to you. So how bad was it? Did the Grands completely humiliate you when he walked in?”

“Absolutely.”

Brenna sank down next to her. “Oh, Katie. I’m sorry.”

Katie glared at her sister. “Yeah. Sorry you missed the show.”

“Well, that, too.” Brenna touched her arm. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Shoot me now.”

Francesca came into the dining room. “So you two are hiding out here? What did I miss?”

Brenna rose and hugged her twin. “Katie was telling me about her recent humiliation. I think it’s pretty funny.”

“Ha ha,” Katie said glumly.

Francesca shrugged. “So he knows you think he’s hot. What’s the big deal?”

Katie couldn’t believe she was even asking. “I have to work with the man.”

“He’ll pay more attention to your legs than what you say. What’s your point?”

“That he isn’t the least bit interested in my legs. Which makes all this not just humiliating, but also pathetic.”

“Oh, I’m willing to bet he was interested.” Brenna sat back down and took Katie’s hand in hers. “I think you should sleep with him.”

Katie stared at her. “What?”

“Sleep? Have sex? Get laid? It can’t have been so long that you’ve forgotten the word.”

“I know what you meant, I just can’t believe you’re saying it. Zach is not a nice man. He’s shallow and superficial.”

“Technically, those two characteristics are the same,” Francesca said helpfully. “And perfect qualities for a one-night stand. Besides, you don’t know him well enough to be sure.”

Katie glared at her, then returned her attention to Brenna. “Why would you suggest that?”

“Because you obviously want to. Katie, you’ve been a good girl all your life. We all have. Maybe it’s time to be bad.”

Katie pulled her hand free. “I don’t think so. If my punishment for one little lie was that swift and severe, I’d hate to think what would happen if I actually did something wrong.”

“If Zach is everything you say, maybe it would be worth it.”

“You’ve lost your mind,” Katie told Brenna. “Your brain fell out of your head while you were sleeping.”

Francesca stretched. “Don’t dismiss Brenna’s suggestion. Zach may not give you the happily-ever-after romance you’re looking for, but he’d be good for some hot, quickie sex. Brenna’s married and I don’t date, so it’s up to you to provide us all with the vicarious thrill.”

“That is not possible. For one thing, he’s a new client. The job is huge and could easily take my company to the next level. I’m not going to mess with that. For another—in case you’ve forgotten—his son is marrying our sister. That makes him an in-law. I can hardly spend the next forty years sitting across from him at Christmas and Thanksgiving, knowing we’ve seen each other naked.”

“But—”

Francesca started to protest, but Katie cut her off with a flick of her wrist.

“It’s like a double yellow line,” Katie said.

Brenna and Francesca looked first at each other, then at her. “Want to explain that?” Brenna asked.

“Sure. You can cross one yellow line, no problem. But if you cross two, things get ugly.”

Francesca grinned. “Katie, honey, we’re talking about sex, not a moving violation.”

Katie wanted to pound their heads together. Fortunately she was saved from coming up with a response by Brenna’s groan. “Geez, Francesca, do you have to be so damn skinny? You’ve lost more weight, haven’t you? Let me guess. You’ve been so busy, you’ve forgotten to eat.”

“It happens,” Francesca said, sounding only a little defensive.

“Not to me.” Brenna poked at her own thigh. “I can honestly say that I’ve never missed a meal by being too busy. There’s always time for pasta. It’s these Italian genes. Every mouthful heads directly south of my waist. Why couldn’t I take after Grammy M like you?”