Irene glanced down at the pair of them and she realized her arms were flung out at her side. On a whim, she brought her arms up and folded them around Van Holtz. He growled in his sleep and she wondered if she should make a run for it. But before she could, soft lips brushed against her breast while big hands slid across her back.

Definitely not an unpleasant response. Wondering how far this sort of thing would go, Irene gently stroked her hands through Van Holtz’s hair. He sighed in his sleep, his grip on her tightening, his mouth searching until it found a nipple and sucked.

She gasped in surprise and delight, enjoying the feel of his mouth on her body. He still slept on, his eyes tightly shut and the soft sleep-growl sounds he made while asleep coming from the back of his throat.

He pushed his leg between her thighs, his knee pressing hard against her groin, and his lips and tongue worked on her nipple. Before Irene knew it, an orgasm took hold of her and she cried out, her body writhing under his until the last shudder passed.

As she lay panting underneath him, he rested his head back between her breasts and commenced snoring. But five minutes later, his eyes opened and he glanced around, finally focusing on her. He smiled, a soft, sleepy smile, with his hair falling in front of his eyes. “Morning, doc.”

“Morning.”

“I’m hungry.” She liked how he stated that so simply.

“Uh . . .”

“I’ll make us some breakfast and then we’ll go to the mall.”

“Mall?”

“Don’t worry. You’ll enjoy it.” He yawned and released her, rolling onto his back.

“I’m horny.” He stated that like he’d stated, “I’m hungry.”

“Uh . . .”

Van Holtz grabbed a condom off the nightstand. “You don’t mind, do you? Before we get up?”

“Uh . . .”

“Good.” Fingers gently probed, then he was inside her before she could even think what to say. As he thrust, and she arched to meet it, he let out a deep groan. “Christ, Irene. You’re already so wet.” Staring down at her, he gave her that smirk. “What have you been doing this morning?”

“Why are there so many people? Have they nothing better to do?”

“You keep asking me that and . . . goddamnit. Where did you go?”

She didn’t say anything, but the bastard found her anyway. Damn canine senses.

“Have you no shame?”

Irene stepped out from behind the clothes rack where she’d been hiding. “I’m not good with crowds.”

“It’s a mall, doc. Nothing to be afraid of.” He grabbed her hand and yanked her over to where he was. “There will be no more hiding. I swear, it’s like dealing with a ten-year-old.”

This time hekept a tight grip on her hand as he moved through the racks of the sporting goods store. “How do you go shopping during the holidays if you can’t stand the mall?”

“I hand Jackie several hundred dollars and an itemized list.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“She likes to shop. I, however, do not. If she wants to spend time fighting those holiday crowds, I’m more than happy to give her money to do it.”

“Well, I’m telling you right now . . .” He held up a track suit in front of her, then shook his head. “Wrong color. Anyway, I expect you to buy my gifts yourself. Not send some lackey to do it.”

When it came to one-on-one relationships with actual living and breathing human beings, Irene was the first to admit she wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. But she’d noticed that as the day progressed, after what even the Marquis de Sade might consider a torrid night of sex, Van Holtz kept making statements that a more romantically inclined woman might believe suggested he wanted something much more permanent.

Good thing she knew better.

“The only thing I plan to get you is a restraining order.”

“Ha ha.” He held up another track suit. “This is it. The color’s perfect with your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

“Yeah. They’re a gorgeous blue. You just need colors that will bring them out.”

“I was told my eyes were freakish and disturbing. One of the professors in the theology department referred to them as unholy.”

“I think they’re hot.” He held up the suit. “Wanna try this on?”

The expression on her face must have shown how she felt about that, because he shrugged and dragged her to the front counter. After a few more purchases they wandered through the mall debating about getting something to eat when Van Holtz suddenly pulled her into a comic book store.

“I need to check something out for my cousin.”

“Exactly how many cousins do you have?”

“A lot. I told you that the Van Holtz men are breeders by nature. My dad quit after two, but my uncles—all eight of them—just kept going.” He stopped and turned to face her. “How many children do you want?”

She shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought . . . wait. Why are you asking?”

He suddenly looked as uncomfortable as she felt. “No reason. Merely asking for politeness’ sake.”

“Okay.”

Irene didn’t say anything else and he began to skim through the racks. Five minutes later he suddenly said, “But you do want kids, right?”

“If artificial insemination is becoming as reliable as I’ve been reading lately . . . perhaps.”