Since when had he become so holy? Walking away from a woman he desperately wanted, simply because she didn't trust him? It made no sense. Bev was turning him into a man he didn't recognize, making him doubt the priorities he'd held dear his whole life. He didn't want this, didn't want her. He grabbed the sweatpants and tee shirt off the bed only to have Bev jump in front of him, her eyes blazing. "Don't ignore me, Mack. You can't run away in the middle of a conversation."

"I'm not running away from anything." He shoved the clothes at her. "Get dressed, will you?"

"Fine." She grabbed the pants and yanked them over her feet. "I don't know why you have to keep tempting me, though. It's downright aggravating."

"Me? I'm tempting you?" He caught a flash of upper thigh just before she pulled the sweatpants up, jerking his body back into a state of attention. She was the tempting one, clad in nothing but a towel and some drips of water.

"Of course you are. You stab me with the ten days, then look at me like I hurt you by not being able to believe in you. Every time I figure out how I feel about you, you do something to change my mind. You're making me crazy!"

The towel was still wrapped around her, but it was starting to sag, showing the rounded swell of her breasts. She was too irritated to notice, and grabbed the tee shirt off the bed. Mack, however, was definitely not too preoccupied to notice.

"Maybe you should just trust me and quit making a big deal about it," he suggested.

"Every time I do, you go and do something jerky again. Like the ten-day closing. Ten days! What in heaven's name am I supposed to do about that?" She tried to yank the tee shirt over her head, but the towel was still wrapped around it. "Dumb shirt."

The towel around her body drooped precariously.

He clenched his teeth. "I came over to warn you because I was worried about you. Don't you get it?"

The towel around her body started to fall, and Mack lunged for it, barely catching it before it exposed her body to him. He held it up, wanting at the same time to let it fall.

"Apparently, I don't get it. Enlighten me, please." Bev let him hold the towel while she yanked the shirt over her head. Mack released the towel, getting a quick glimpse of her stomach before the shirt covered it.

Mack picked up the towel and tossed it over a chair. "I have to do my job, and unfortunately, my job interfered with your job in this particular instance. It's not like I'm happy to put your shelter out of business. You're asking me to make a choice between my career and you. I can't do that."

She pushed up her sleeves, as if she were readying herself for action. Or battle. He wasn't sure which one. "Actually, you did make the choice. You chose your career. Money. Don't you see money can't make you happy? Neither can power, or a big, beautiful house like this one. Love is what life is about, Mack. Helping others, like my animals."

That was it. He'd had enough. Before he could stop himself, he was across the room, his hands digging into her shoulders. "You think I'm a cold jerk, do you? All you see is my obsession with work."

Bev lifted her chin and met his gaze. "So?"

"Have you ever even bothered to ask why I work so hard?"

She blinked. "For the money?"

"For the money," he agreed. "Want to know why I want the money?"

For the first time, he saw true hesitation in her eyes. "Um...sure. Why?"

Mack let go of her suddenly and whirled away, his insides churning as he walked over to the bed, where Janey was sitting. He put his hand on her head, grounding himself in the softness of her fur, the way he needed to so often when he felt like he was losing control of his life, and what mattered to him. Janey was his anchor, and he needed her in a way that no one ever knew. "I had a sister who was twelve years younger than me. She became sick with a rare illness. Traditional treatments didn't work, but there was a new experimental treatment that was having huge success with virtually all patients. But insurance doesn't cover experimental treatment, and my parents didn't have the money to pay for it. So she died. Because of a lack of money, she lost the chance to have treatment that could have saved her, and she died."

Bev made a small sound in the back of her throat, but he couldn't turn around to look at her. He couldn't bear the look of pity he would see on her face. He didn't want her pity, he wanted her to understand who he was, to realize he wasn't the empty shell she believed him to be. So, he just kept scratching Janey's ears, focusing on his dog.

He hadn't figured out why he cared so much what Bev thought. But he did. He needed her to see his truth. "When she was sick, I vowed to earn enough money to get her the care she needed. I eventually did, but I was too late for her. She died fifteen years ago."

Janey licked his fingers, as if sensing his pain. He patted his chest, and the little dog sprang into his arms. "I was too late for my sister, but I'll be ready if my parents need anything. There's plenty of money. No one else I care about will ever have to die because of a lack of money." He walked to the doorway, still not looking at Bev. "And if I ever have kids, it'll be the same for them. No matter what happens, there will always be enough money for anything they need. No one will ever have to make choices based on a lack of money. Ever."

He knew Bev was probably thinking his kids would need time and love rather than money, but that was because she didn't know. She hadn't been there. He tucked Janey under his arm. "You can sleep in here," he said, without turning around. "I'm going downstairs to work."

Pausing in the door, he said, "Come down when you wake up. I'll help you write a business plan."

Then he left.