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her hand over her eyes. “Are you having fun parading around me only half-dressed?”

He pulled her hand away. “I’m hoping that you’ll get used to seeing me half-dressed, and I won’t seem so intimidating.”

She grinned. “It’s working!”

“Good.” He headed toward the locked door. “I’m going to the clothes closet to find something to wear. Unless…you want me to watch so I won’t be intimidated.”

She burst out laughing. “All five feet, two inches of me.”

He just stood there, folded his arms, and his gaze traveled up her body, slowly, leisurely, pausing for a moment on her covered breasts. But even before he got there, her breathing was disordered, agitated, her nipples were tight, and her breasts were quivering slightly.

“You might only be five two, but, man, that’s five feet, two inches of honor, courage, and commitment.”

As soon as she stopped laughing, she said, “I sure do have you fooled.”

“There’s nothing about you that would fool anyone who took the time to look beyond how damn cute you are.”

“Cute? Really?”

His smile reached his eyes, and they were brighter, livelier than she’d ever seen them. “You’re beautiful, Ensley. Inside out and all around.”

“I wasn’t fishing for compliments.”

“And I’m not handing them out lightly.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll be back after I get dressed.”

“Are there pants in the men’s closet to fit you?”

“Yep. We always leave dirty clothes behind.”

“And somebody cleans them?”

“We pay into a guest wing account every time we stay here, which pays for cleaning, meals, and alcohol. Since family members are here almost daily, Elliott had a guest wing account set up. It pays for a full-time housekeeper and keeps the kitchenette stocked.”

“You’ll have to float me another loan.”

“I can afford it, but if I had sold my manuscript, I’d have money to pay for both of our airfares to Bhutan.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. I can write an IOU.”

Austin laughed. “Everyone who went on this adventure has a stake in the treasure we found.”

“But we can’t sell any of it.”

“We’ll find something to sell. If we didn’t make money on adventures, we couldn’t keep having them. The last one the family went on, Sophia sketched what she saw, and when she came home, she painted pictures of Andrew Jackson and the Battle of New Orleans. She made millions from her Andrew Jackson exhibit. The adventure before that, Sophia attended a dinner with Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton, and James Madison. She had sketches for a Founding Fathers exhibit from that dinner alone, along with enough firsthand information for Jack to write a Broadway play. The exhibit and play made millions.”

“He wrote Dinner on Maiden Lane from firsthand information? Damn. No wonder it seemed so realistic.”

Austin picked up the T-shirt she’d picked out to wear on the plane with yoga pants. “I saw a picture of JL wearing this. It’s a good color for you, too.”

Ensley laughed. “It’s a blue T-shirt. It looks good on everybody.”

Austin gave her a cocky grin. “I thought it would sound dumb if I told my girlfriend that JL’s T-shirt would look good on her. Forget I said anything.”

“Girlfriend? I can’t believe you just called me your girl…friend. Last time you just called me your girl.”

“Well, aren’t you?”

“I haven’t thought about a name for what’s going on here. But as long as it doesn’t mean I’ve been demoted, it’s fine.”

He tightened the towel around his waist. “If I had clothes on, I’d hug you.”

“If you had clothes on, I’d hug you. Go get dressed while I dry my hair.”

“No,” he said, “That’s my job.”

She flicked her damp hair over her shoulder. “Is this a thing you do with the women you date?”

He picked up a few strands of hair and sniffed them. “Hmmm. Other than my cousins, I’ve never combed, much less dried a woman’s hair.”

“Never?”

He shook his head, grinning, and let the strands fall gently over her shoulder. “You’re the one and only.”

“Okay.” She managed to walk back into the bathroom without her suddenly weak knees collapsing. She dropped onto a stool and held out the hairdryer. “Have at it.”

“Hand me the brush.” He turned on the hairdryer and, using the round brush, began to blow out her hair.

“I can’t believe you enjoy this.”

“It turns me on.”

“Well, I’m not sure what to say about that. So, to change the subject, why do you call JL by her nickname instead of Mom?”

He stood there a moment, looking at Ensley in the mirror. “To me, my mom is Maggie O’Grady. I was just a baby when she died. But when anyone mentioned her in my presence, which was often, they’d say they were sorry that I never knew my mom. As I grew older, I told people my mom died, but JL took care of me.

“When I discovered JL was my mother and not my sister, I was pissed as hell. I eventually got over the betrayal, but the word ‘mom’ still belongs to Maggie.”

He paused, as if he was struggling with it all, and then continued, “I think I felt guilty that maybe having me had hastened her death. But honestly, Jeff, Shane, Connor, and Rick were my idols, and I didn’t want to be different from them. And then it got to the point that it didn’t matter. I mean, my real dad is Chris Dalton, and I call him Chris, and Pops will always be Pops. Does that make sense?”

“It does to me. I have Erik, and I’ll never call him Dad. Plus, I have these weird proclamations and a legacy I don’t understand.”

She gazed back at Austin in the mirror and let her eyes drift down his chest, but that’s as far as she could see, missing the evidence of his arousal. He had a cheeky little quirk in the corner of his mouth, and she wanted to kiss it. He must have known how sexy he looked because his expression didn’t change while he methodically moved from one section of her head to another. The warm air and

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