Rumor Has It by Tami Hoag Page A

white powder out of his hair. “But let me change my shirt first. This plaster dust is making me itch.”
    She told herself she wouldn't look, promised herself she wouldn't look. She looked. She exhaled so hard, her lungs hurt. Nick's back was a lesson in classical art. Smooth, dark skin was stretched taut over an array of muscles that rippled beneath the beautiful surface.
    He dropped the black T-shirt carelessly on the floor beside the bed and looked over several possiblereplacements hanging on various parts of the open door. He settled on a red T-shirt that had been snagged over the doorknob.
    “So, did you come up with any good ideas?” he asked, strolling back into the kitchen with the shirt dangling from his fingertips, ostensibly unconcerned that he was only half dressed.
    A wave of heat washed over Katie. Her heart spun like a top. He belonged on a poster. A hunk poster. A super- hunk poster. His black hair spilled onto his forehead. A sweetly boyish grin kicked up the corner of his mouth. His chest was no disappointment. Sculpted muscle was thickly forested with ebony curls. The curls arrowed down around his slightly off- center navel and disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. Just to the right of his belly button he had the cutest little mole shaped like a crouching bunny. And unless she was looking for it, she'd never have noticed the tiny pink scar on his shoulder. Gaping wound, indeed, she thought with a laugh.
    “Ideas?” she asked blankly. Boy, did she have ideas! She was having ideas she hadn't had in years.
    Eyes twinkling, Nick pulled his shirt on overhis head. The name of a trendy Washington nightclub was emblazoned across the front. He watched Katie's gaze follow the descent of the bright red fabric down his chest and over his belly. He thought she was going to faint when he tucked the bottom into his jeans. “Ideas for the dining room. Remember the dining room?”
    Realizing she'd been staring, Katie blushed and fumbled with her portfolio. What was the matter with her, losing her wits and her manners over an attractive arrangement of muscle and bone. “Yes. I think I've come up with several good ideas, all of them fairly simple, all with a Victorian feel to them to tie in with the things you found in the attic.”
    She pulled out the rough sketches she'd made and handed them to Nick. He leaned back and squinted a little. When he couldn't extend his arm any farther or lean back any more, Katie reached across the table and pulled the drawings toward her.
    “Is this better?” she asked dryly. “Or should I go across the hall?”
    Nick scowled. He reached into a drawer beside him and pulled out a pair of round, wire- rimmedreading glasses. The look he gave Katie was half warning, half pleading. “Don't tease me.”
    He was self- conscious about such a little thing as wearing reading glasses? Katie's hand auto matically went to her belly, smoothing over the soft cotton of her skirt and the scars that lay beneath it.
    “This is too frilly,” Nick said, setting aside one sketch. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth as he considered the other two. “I like this one best.” He held out the sketch that pictured the finished room furnished with small Victorian side chairs tucked under small square tables draped in green and tan. The walls were adorned with the hats, walking sticks, shirt collars, and other things he had discovered in the attic.
    “Is that the color you had in mind?” she asked, pointing her pencil at the hunter- green drapes she'd drawn at the tall windows.
    “Is it dark green?” he asked with a crooked smile.
    Katie nodded, biting her lip. Sometimes he was just too cute to be resisted.
    He grinned. “Then that's it.”
    “Maybe this is a silly question, but if you can'ttell whether or not it's dark green, how do you know dark green is your favorite color?”
    Nick just shrugged and went on grinning. He took wicked pleasure in seeing Katie off balance. It was such a