“I wanted to warn you and didn’t trust the telephone.”
She glanced toward the bedroom. “Tapped?”
“I wouldn’t put it past Smilow. Even without a court order.”
“I think he might have me under surveillance.”
“If he does, I don’t know about it. Anyway, I scaled your back wall. Wouldn’t suit to be seen at your house, would it? I’ve been knocking on the kitchen door for five minutes. I could see your upstairs lights on, but when you didn’t answer, my imagination went wild. I thought maybe I was too late, that something terrible…” He stopped. “You’re shivering.”
“I’m cold.”
He reached for a towel and placed it around her, folding it closed in front but not letting it go. “What makes you think you’re under surveillance?”
“I saw a suspicious-looking car while I was running. Engine on. Lights out.”
“You went running tonight? In this weather? Alone?”
“I’m usually alone. But I’m always careful.”
He smiled weakly. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
“I already had the jitters.”
“I couldn’t very well come up to your front door and ring the bell, could I?”
“I guess not.”
“Would you have let me in?”
“I don’t know.” Then, more quietly, “Yes.”
He stared at the hollow of her throat, where a droplet of water shimmered in the shallow depression. Releasing his grip on the towel, he stepped away from her, a move that deserved a goddamn merit badge for valor. “We’ve got to talk,” he said thickly.
“I’ll be right out.”
Woodenly, he moved into the bedroom, actually seeing nothing, but noticing her stamp on everything. Every item in the room was a reflection of her. When she joined him, she was wearing a robe, the old-fashioned
, no-nonsense kind that folded over her front and had a tie belt at the waist, as opaque as a lead apron, yet sexy as hell because she was naked and wet underneath.
“Your hand is bleeding.”
He looked at the cut on his thumb, which had gone unnoticed until now. “I guess I did that when I busted your lock.”
“Do you need a bandage?”
“It’s fine.”
The last thing he wanted to do was talk. He longed to touch her. He wanted to open the robe and press his face against her softness, taste her skin, inhale her essence. His whole body pulsed with physical desire, but he resisted yielding to it. He couldn’t be held accountable for last Saturday night. But he was accountable for everything that followed.
“You knew my name all along, didn’t you? Knew who I was.”
“Yes.”
He nodded slowly, assimilating what he had known but hadn’t wanted to accept. “I don’t want to have this conversation.”
“Because…?”
“Because I know you’ll lie to me. That will make me angry. I don’t want to be angry with you.”