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program.”
    “Well, it’s not baling hay, but it sounds like damn hard work,” he said dryly.
    “Art is important,” she said.
    “Not arguing with you.”
    She let out an exasperated breath, feeling suddenly much more Lucas-impervious than she had a moment earlier.
    “Well, anyway, see you later, Mac. Lucas.” She breezed out the front door, gulping in the crisp evening air as soon she was outside. She had to clear her head. Had to get her control back.
    She wasn’t going to be like her mother. Not ever. She wasn’t going to be the idiot who fell for a charmer and then was shocked when he didn’t change. She doubted her father had been faithful to her mother at any point in their relationship, but her mother had always wanted him too much to give him an ultimatum.
    And Carly hated that. Hated the scenes it created. Hated that her mother had so little pride.
    She hated what her father did too. But her mother enabled it by staying. She gave it a stamp of approval. At this point, there was literally nothing her father could do to make her mother leave, and he knew it.
    So he philandered. He did it publicly. He did it often.
    And her mother was always on standby to make a tearful, shrieking scene.
    Carly could just imagine what would happen if she ever did something like that. Councilwoman Carly Denton shouting down a bar while her husband made out with a busty brunette in the corner, totally unconcerned with her heartbreak.
    She shivered and cast a glance back to the house. No. That would never be her. Not ever. Which meant Lucas Miller wasn’t getting within touching distance of her lips ever again.

Chapter Three
    Lucas hadn’t had such a bad night of sleep in years. He’d had the hard-on from hell, and every time he’d taken it in hand to relieve himself of it, Carly and her pinched lips entered his mind.
    And then, shortly after that, her expression softened, the way it had in the kitchen at Mac’s when he’d touched her lip. She’d softened then, but more than that . . . there had been heat. Serious heat.
    And then he’d realized he was about to engage in a heavy sexual fantasy about his best friend’s little sister. His best friend’s little sister who, if she knew, would probably treat him to a stare so cold it would freeze his erection clean off.
    Which was when he’d pulled his hand away and consigned himself to a night of discomfort because, dammit, he was not going there.
    It wasn’t just that Carly was Mac’s younger sister, although that played into it. But Carly and Mac, and the dinners at their house, dinners a lot like last night’s, had been a part of his sanity growing up. Before he’d made friends with Mac he’d been drowning; an isolated kid whose drunk of a father spent half his time passed out, and whose mother had disappeared completely.
    Carly and Mac had become like family. At least until Carly had decided she hated him. In the two years since she’d been back from school he’d hardly seen her, but the memories remained. The importance of what she and Mac represented remained.
    And that meant no fantasies about her. And most definitely no acting on them.
    He liked to harass her, no question about that. But that was a far cry from screwing her.
    Of course, what had happened last night had gone a bit beyond just liking to annoy her. In fact, annoying her had been the furthest thing from his mind when he’d touched her lip.
    A hard kick of desire assaulted him again and he swore internally. It didn’t help that he was going back down to Carly’s office today to drop off some more donations. When he’d volunteered to help organize the thing he hadn’t counted on having to deal with Carly on what was turning into a daily basis.
    He was half hoping she wouldn’t be around and he could just leave everything with the receptionist.
    It was just his luck that the receptionist wasn’t there, but Carly was.
    She looked up and he noticed she didn’t pucker. He could tell she