Gideon felt his eyebrows draw downward into a frown. Lucille had been known to indulge in gossip, and he did not want Adrienne to be the subject of idle speculation. It wasn’t that gossip bothered him personally, since he never cared what anyone else said or thought about him, but he saw no reason for his agent to be embarrassed just because she had tried to help him out for a few days.
He should have known Adrienne was quite capable of looking out for herself. The smile she directed toward the older woman was friendly, direct and self-assured. “Yes, I am. Gideon and Isabelle have been gracious enough to let me stay with them while I recuperate from a fall I took earlier this week. I’m going to try to get out of their way as soon as I can get around more easily.”
She motioned ruefully toward the crutches propped beside her chair as she spoke, which also drew attention to her bandaged ankle. The message was clear: she considered herself an imposition on him, rather than an invited guest. From her tone, he was merely tolerating her presence and not particularly enjoying it. By mentioning Isabelle, she reminded Lucille that she and Gideon weren’t quite alone in his house.
It certainly didn’t sound as though they were engaging in a heated fling during her time here.
Her suspicions allayed, Lucille returned the smile. “You poor thing. To come here for a business trip and then to be detained by an injury. It must be very inconvenient for you, being a busy New York agent and all.”
“I’m afraid I am falling a bit behind,” Adrienne agreed, managing to look politely anxious to be on her way back to New York. “But I am grateful to Gideon for giving me a hand, even when he’s so very busy with his own work.”
Once again Lucille looked at Gideon in surprise, and he knew it was because of his reputation for being reclusive and inhospitable. Now he would have to painstakingly rebuild that reputation. He wouldn’t want the locals to think of him as a soft touch.
“Grandma, we want some ice cream,” Lucille’s grandson finally piped up, eyeing Isabelle’s nearly empty dish with envy. “Please?”
“All right, Justin, I’m coming. Have you heard from your mother, Gideon?”
“She called this morning.”
“How’s her poor sister?
“She’s improving. She may be released from the hospital tomorrow, though she’ll still need someone to take care of her for a while.”
“You tell Lenore to call me if she needs anything, you hear?”
“I will. And, uh, thank you,” he added belatedly.
“She certainly left with a lot to think about, didn’t she?” Dylan’s smile was sharp-edged again when he glanced at Gideon. “The two of us sitting here together with your agent, eating ice cream—she must be asking herself what on earth is going on.”
“I’m asking myself the same question,” Gideon grumbled.
Dylan turned to Adrienne. “If you do end up staying a couple more days, you really shouldn’t miss the festival. You’ll learn a lot about the town. If Gideon won’t take you, since parties aren’t his thing, I would be happy to escort you.”
Gideon could hardly believe his ears. Was this joker actually asking Adrienne out—right here in front of him? “I’ll take her if she wants to go,” he snapped.
Adrienne looked at him with raised eyebrows. Because he’d had about all of this conversation he could stand, he nodded toward the empty ice cream dishes. “Are you two finished? We’d better be going.”
Dylan glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to go, too. I go on duty in a couple of hours.”
“Really? I thought you worked the day shift,” Adrienne said.
“Honesty has a very small police force,” Dylan replied with a crooked smile. “We trade shifts fairly regularly.”
“In other words, he works whenever his uncle the police chief tells him to,” Gideon murmured.
For the first time a glint of irritation appeared in Dylan’s eyes, but he managed to hold on to the smile for Adrienne. “There is that,” he agreed congenially. “Those of us who have to work for a living have to answer to the boss. Not everyone can be a trust-fund baby.”
Gideon had to swallow a growl, which he did only for Isabelle’s sake, as the child was looking questioningly from him to Dylan and back.
Adrienne sighed lightly and shook her head. “It was nice while it lasted,” she said, obviously referring to the very brief truce between Gideon and Dylan.
He noticed that she watched as Dylan ambled away, and he couldn’t help wondering if she was admiring the other guy’s butt or some stupid thing like that. And then he cursed himself viciously for acting like a jealous fool, when he had absolutely no right to be jealous over Adrienne.
“What’s the matter, Gideon?” Isabelle asked somewhat anxiously. “You look mad.”
He made a massive effort to smooth his expression. “No, I’m not mad. I was just…thinking about something.”
He avoided Adrienne’s eyes for a moment, just in case his perceptive agent caught a lingering trace of wholly masculine—and totally inappropriate—possessiveness in his expression.