RACHEL WATCHED DEVIN walk down the path toward the fountain, his head down, brow furrowed. Nervously she stood up, smoothing her skirt against the gusty wind. From the swirling, slate-gray clouds overhead, it looked as if they were in for rain.

She’d barely slept with worrying. This was too important to hope for the best. And Devin had mentioned he had an early tutorial this morning.

Steeling herself, she waited for him to notice her. He walked right past.

Rachel blinked and called after him. “Devin!”

He glanced back, recognized her, and his frown deepened.

Now that she had been expecting. “Can we talk? Please?”

“No.” He kept walking.

Rachel forgot her diplomatic approach. Chasing after him, she caught him by the arm. “Look, I’ve got everything to lose in this. So quit sulking because I decided against following your advice.”

He glared down at her. “Is that what you think our fight was about?”

“Wasn’t it?”

He thought about it. God, she liked him for that. Even angry he was willing to question his motives. It made Rachel examine her own more closely. This wasn’t just about making Devin keep his word; she needed his understanding.

Scattered drops hit the concrete path, and one splashed cool on her face.

“Maybe my ego’s involved,” he admitted.

The shower became a deluge within seconds. He took her arm and they ran for cover to the vestibule of the gothic clock tower, built in the 1920s, that was the university’s most striking building. Rachel always expected to see Quasimodo swinging from one of the tall spires. At this time of the morning, seven-thirty, there were few students about and their footsteps echoed on the marble floor. Devin positioned himself near one of the massive oak doors and stared out at the pounding rain. Wanting to escape as soon as possible, she thought.

“About yesterday-” she began.

“What really shocked me,” he interrupted, still watching the rain sheeting onto the steps, “was how quickly I went from lover to enemy.”

“I’m sorry,” she said simply. Yesterday, she’d dropped her guard for the first time in years, and his dissent had felt like an attack. The thought of telling a hostile Mark the truth terrified her. She could never make him like her enough to overcome the fear of rejection. But admitting that would reveal her vulnerability. “When you questioned my decision to postpone telling Mark, it took me by surprise. I know you were only trying to help.”

All she needed was a little time to rehearse, to win Mark’s trust. Was that so much to ask? She was framing her argument when Devin turned his head.

“I’ve been trying to piece all this together…When did you find out who Mark was?”

“A couple of days into term, but I couldn’t say anything to him. As far as I knew, his parents had never told him he was adopted.”

“He found out on his own. They still don’t realize.”

That explained why they’d never contacted her. If it wasn’t for Devin Rachel might never have found out Mark knew he was adopted, let alone looking for her. Thank God for him. She felt a rush of gratitude, affection.

“So the first date…it wasn’t payback for teasing you. You were trying to assess whether I was a bad influence?”

Rachel swallowed. She guessed where this was leading. “Yes.”

Devin said slowly, “And you agreed to a second date-?”

“It wasn’t a date. Remember? I was very clear about that.” The facts and nothing but the facts. “I hadn’t made up my mind about you, and platonic kept things simple.”

His forehead creased in a frown. “So you slept with me because…?”

It was her turn to look out into the rain, lessening now to desultory drizzle. “I’d…revised my poor opinion of you, obviously.”

“Obviously?” Devin turned her to face him. “You knew I spend a lot of time with him. Dating me meant you would, too.”

That stung, but Rachel wasn’t here to fight with Devin again. Far from it. “You really don’t trust people’s motives in being with you, do you?”

His gaze didn’t waver from her face.

“Okay,” she conceded. “The unvarnished truth. I won’t say your ‘usefulness’ didn’t bother me, which is why I held off getting romantically involved.”

“Maybe you could have tried harder.”

Her heart started to pound. “When I accused you of trying to seduce me the other night, you said you’d changed your mind-until I changed it back.” She coaxed him with a rueful smile. “Can’t I succumb to the same temptation?”

Devin wanted to smile in return, he really did. But he’d been screwed over so many times.

Rachel’s tentative smile faded. She dropped her eyes, but not before he’d seen the hurt in them. Instinctively, he reached out a hand.

Head still down, she said, “I’m not asking you to lie to Mark, but…”

Devin returned his hands to the pockets of his denim jacket. “Stay out of it?”

Sun broke through the clouds, glinted off the wet trees.

“It’s a lot to ask,” she admitted.

“No,” he said. “Staying out of it is exactly what I want to do.”

There was a moment’s silence. That was the thing about intelligent women. They didn’t need things spelled out when a guy moved on. But he didn’t want to hurt her. “The thing is, Rachel, I’ve had a complicated couple of years.” Understatement.

“And you want a simple life.”

He wouldn’t sugarcoat this. “Yes.”

“I completely understand,” she said briskly. “This is my mess and I’m sorry for dragging you into it.” She gestured to the open doors and they stepped from the gloom into the brighter world outside. Smiling, she held out her hand. “No hard feelings?” The woman had guts.

Devin returned the handshake. “No hard feelings.”

FOR THE NEXT THREE DAYS Devin watched Rachel campaign for Mark’s friendship with a desperate cheerfulness that made him grit his teeth and turn away. He wasn’t getting involved.

But dear God, didn’t the woman know how to play it cool? Stupid question.

Around Mark she acted like one of those annoyingly cute little terriers, all wagging tail and eager friendliness as it frisked around your ankles, getting underfoot and gazing up at you with bright eyes begging, Pat me. Pat me. Pat me!

Okay, that was an exaggeration-the librarian was a little taller than that and her tail was always worth watching. But it felt that bad to Devin. Maybe because he knew how much was at stake. Normally Rachel understood teenagers, but in her need for Mark’s approval, she was doing it all wrong. And this was too important for a misstep.

On Wednesday Devin gave up and frog-marched a protesting Rachel into her office.

“What are you doing? I have inventory to clear.”

Devin kicked the door shut behind him. “I’m staging an intervention before you completely screw this up with Mark.”

Immediately she was defensive. “I’m not.”

“Whenever he comes into the library you drop everything to fawn all over him, and giggle at his lame jokes. Hell, he just told me you even let him borrow reference books that are supposed to stay in the library.”

“I’m authorized to exercise my discretion.” She took refuge behind her desk, behind an attitude of polite condescension. “Was that all?”

“No.” Eyeing her with exasperation, Devin sat down and rested his boots on her desk. “So you really don’t think your approach with Mark is over the top?”

Frowning, Rachel shoved his boots off. “I fuss over lots of students.”

“You don’t offer to lend them your car.”

“It was raining yesterday and he didn’t have a coat, plus his bag was particularly heavy…”

“Uh-huh.” Devin put his boots on her desk again. “He’s worried you’re looking for a boy toy.”

She’d been about to shove his feet off again, instead her fingers tightened around his boots in a viselike grip. “That’s ridiculous,” she said faintly.