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chain came off once," Brett said. "I got it back on and tightened up some stuff, but I guess that's not the same."
    “ You're pretty mechanical," Nash told the kid. "You handle these tools well." Brett pretended nonchalance. "I know." Just then someone cleared her throat. Nash glanced over his shoulder and saw Stephanie stand ing in the doorway to the utility room. The twins were right behind her, peering at him from either side of her hips. She didn't look happy.
    “ I know you're trying to help, Mr. Harmon, but this isn't your responsibility." Before Nash could speak, Brett scrambled to his feet.
    “ It's okay, Mom. I think Nash really fixed it. He knows about machines and stuff. We're just putting it back together. Let's test it." Stephanie's doubt was as clear as her frown. "Brett, the washer isn't a toy."
    “ Good thing," Nash said as he stood and looked down at her. "Because I wasn't playing."

    Chapter Three

    Had she already mentioned that the man was tall? Stephanie had to tilt her head back to meet Nash's dark gaze. Once her eyes locked onto his, she didn't think an earthquake would be enough to break the connection between them.
    What exactly was the- appeal? His chiseled good looks? The hint of sadness even when he smiled? A body big enough and muscled enough to make him the most popular guy in a "drawing the human form" class? Her sex-free existence? That voice? I wasn't playing.
    She knew what he'd meant when he spoke the words. He wasn't playing at being Mr. Repair. He was just trying to help. But she wanted him to mean something else. She wanted him to mean that he thought she was sexy, mysterious and, seeing as this was her personal fantasy, irresistible. She wanted him to mean he wasn't playing with her. He wanted it to be real, too.
    Yeah, that and a nod from a genie would miraculously get the piles of laundry clean, too. "Stephanie? Are you all right?" Good question.
    She forced herself to look away from his face and focus her attention on the nearly assembled washer. The scattered tools on the floor were enough to remind her of Marty, who had loved to play at fixing things. He knew just enough to be dangerous to both himself and her monthly budget. Like she needed that kind of trouble again.
    “ Tell me exactly what you did," she said. She would need the information to tell the repair guy. Before Nash could speak, Brett launched into an explanation that involved calling tools by their ac tual names and pointing out various washer parts on a diagram so detailed, she got vertigo just looking at it. She did her best to pay attention. Really. It was just that the utility room was sort of on the small side and Nash was standing close enough for her to inhale the scent of his shampoo and the faint hint of male sweat. It had been a really long time since she'd seen a man perspire.
    And it wasn't going to happen again anytime soon, she told herself firmly. Men, good-looking or not, weren't a part of her to-do list. She was going to put any illicit or illegal thoughts of Nash Harmon right out of her mind.
    The bad news was she'd assumed that her reaction to him that morning had come from a lack of caffeine and low blood sugar. As she'd had enough coffee to float a good-size boat and she was still full from lunch, she couldn't blame her current attraction on either of those states. There had to be another explanation.
    “ Mom, you're not listening," Brett complained. "I am. You got a little technical on me. I guess it's a guy thing." She watched as her son tried to decide between being huffy at her inattention and pleasure at her calling him a guy.
    “ There's a simple way to ease your mind," Nash said.
    Reluctantly she looked in his direction, careful not to get caught up in his lethal gaze.
    “ Let me guess," she said. "You're going to turn it on and prove to me that it works."
    “Exactly." He smiled and staring at that was nearly as dan gerous. When his mouth curved, her stomach swooned. The sensation