The checker smiled at Amy. “Forty-three dollars and seventy-six cents.”

Amy froze. No purse. There was a sweep of momentary panic until she mentally retraced her steps and assured herself the purse was safely stowed in her locker at the station. This is what happens when you lose control of your emotions, she thought. You make an idiot of yourself in the supermarket.

Jake waited. Timing was everything. You couldn’t look too eager when you were picking women up at the supermarket like this. Not that he’d ever done it before, but he just knew you had to be cool about these things.

Amy pressed her lips together in dismay. “I’m sorry. I don’t have my purse with me.”

Now. Jake leaned forward. “Is there a problem?” Lord, she smelled wonderful when you got this close to her. Sweet, like honeysuckle, he thought. And her voice was clear and musical. Her laughter would be like that, too, he decided.

The checker looked unconcerned. “She forgot her purse.”

“Oh.” Steady, Elliott, he cautioned. Subtlety, that’s the key word. You have to be subtle. He turned his big soft brown eyes to Amy. “Do you live far away? Maybe you can call someone to bring the money. A neighbor?” Slight pause. “Your husband?” Clever, he thought, very clever. Hold your breath…

She looked despondent. “I just moved into the neighborhood. I don’t know anyone, and I don’t have a husband.”

Whew! She didn’t have a husband. Jake tried to control the smile that was twitching across his mouth. “Maybe I can help. I’d be happy to loan you the money.”

“That’s very nice of you, but I couldn’t let you do that. You don’t even know me.”

Jake studied her flushed face, allowing his gaze to roam from her cap of shiny curls to her slightly upturned nose and kissable bow-shaped mouth. Her neck was smooth and elegant, her breasts small and round.