“I guess I just assumed there’d be a separate bedroom.” Instead a double bed was tucked in a side alcove, slanted under the eaves.

“This way there’ll be lots of airflow. Ideal in the summer.”

She checked out the kitchen, since he didn’t seem interested in opening drawers and cupboards there. “It’s ultraclean. Which is good. But there isn’t a single plate or dish. No pans. Not even a single set of silverware.”

“Dishes. Who wants dishes? The place has outlets. Lots of outlets.” He bounced back to his feet after examining the location of all the electrical plugs. “No sweat setting up a system here. And the windows are great. Lots of light.”

She shook her head. There was lots of light because the windows were bald of any curtains or shades-but Garrett was happier than a kid at the circus. Who could fathom men? He was used to money. Big money. Nice things, conveniences. “Well, it wouldn’t take too much to make it at least livable. And it really is pretty nice for the price-”

“Nice? Nice? I was prepared to pitch a tent. This is better than a dream.”

The lunatic jogged over to her, making her laugh…until she saw something unexpected in his eyes. Maybe he hadn’t given in to a foolish, exuberant impulse in so long that he’d forgotten what it was like. She wasn’t absolutely positive he even knew he was going to kiss her.

But she knew before he was halfway across the room. High-powered men had high-powered drives. Sometimes the release valve slipped open when it shouldn’t. And debutantes raised in Eastwick weren’t soft; they only looked that way. Emma knew what was happening, knew how to get out of a problem like this gracefully.

And that was what she intended-to carefully duck away from him. But he swooped down on her with none of the finesse and skill and technique she remembered. He was just a guy high on life for that instant. Just a guy with a goofy smile on his face, swinging his girl around in a circle to make her squeal…just a little happiness letting loose, nothing dangerous, nothing wicked.