She frowned and gnawed lightly on her bottom lip. What could she say about Grant that wouldn’t make her feel stupid? That he’d made love to her minutes after they’d met? That she didn’t even like him, yet she’d trembled in his arms when she should have punched him in the jaw, that she’d come closer to surrender in that damned elevator than she’d ever come in her entire life…
“Crista?” Danny’s eyes were riveted to hers. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
She hesitated. Danny was her friend. Her best friend. Maybe—maybe if she talked to him…
The downstairs bell shrilled, and Danny shot a glance at his watch.
“That’s for me.” He got to his feet. “I was supposed to meet some people…Look, babe,” he said over his shoulder, “just give it a chance. Everything will work out.”
Crista sighed as she followed after him. “I suppose.”
“Just think how nice it’s gonna be when you’re rich,” he said as he pressed the buzzer and then undid the lock and chain.
Her answering smile was tentative. “Well, I suppose. But—”
Danny put his hands lightly around her waist and turned her toward him.
“You could open a soup kitchen! The Village Community Center’s been trying to do something like that for months. Or open a shelter and pick up every abandoned dog and cat you find.”
Her smile grew. “I could, couldn’t I?”
Danny went on with a smile, “And then you could tell Gus what he could do with his stupid restaurantheck, you could buy the restaurant! Even turn it into a jewelry shop.”
“Oh, Danny, you’re right! I was so busy feeling sorry for myself…” Crista threw her arms around his neck just as the doorbell rang. “Thank you!”
Danny grinned mischievously. “You might even want to send a struggling young actor to England for the summer.”
“You,” Crista said, smiling up at him.
“Me,” he said modestly as he reached behind her and threw open the door. “Hey, babe, now that you’re gonna be filthy rich—”
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
The angry male voice drove the breath from Crista’s lungs. She went still in Danny’s arms, then spun around.
Grant was standing in the open doorway. For just an instant, her heart kicked against her ribs at the sight of him, tall and dark and so overwhelmingly masculine—but then she saw the look of distaste on his lips and her spine straightened.
“What are you doing here?” she said coldly.
“Such a warm welcome, Crista.” His eyes narrowed as he took in the scene. “I can see I’ve come at an inopportune time.”
Hell, he thought, that was one way of putting it. The little tableau before him was about as intimate as possible—Crista in that silky robe in colors that should have been garish but instead only made her look more beautiful, the man holding her with all that bare skin and muscle showing above a pair of unfastened jeans.
A cold knot tightened in his belly. Were Crista and her lover coming from bed? Or were they on their way to it?
Grant’s lips drew back from his teeth. “Perhaps you’d like to introduce me to your—friend.”
A flush rose in Crista’s face. “I asked you a question, Grant. What are you doing here?”
“Crista?” Danny’s voice was low. “You want me to tell this guy to beat it?”
Crista lifted her hand and put it over Danny’s.
“Danny,” she said quickly, “this is Grant Landon.” She swallowed dryly. “My—my guardian.”
She could feel Danny’s jolt of alarm. “This guy is your guardian?”
“Yes.” She tilted her chin up. “And he was just about to tell me why he’s come here—weren’t you, Mr. Landon?”
Grant took a deep breath. It took effort, but he finally managed what he hoped was a smile.
“I came to discuss some important business with you.”
“Business? You and me?” Crista laughed with derision. “I don’t think so.”
Grant’s mouth thinned. “It would be to your advantage to listen to what I have to say, Crista.”
“Have you decided to sign off as my guardian?”
“If I did, someone else would take my place.”
Crista shrugged off Danny’s hands and took a step forward. “Even that would be an improvement.”
“Dammit, Crista! Stop being such a little fool and—”
“That’s enough, pal!” Danny’s words were a growl of warning.
Grant’s eyes shot to the man’s face. “If you’re smart, pal,” he said, his voice very soft and very cold, “you’ll keep out of this.”
“If you think you can come down here and push Crista around…”
“This matter doesn’t concern you. It’s between my ward and me.”
“I am not your ward,” Crista said fiercely.
“But you are. The sooner you get that through your head, the better.”
“And don’t use that tone with me!”
Grant’s brows rose. “What tone?”
“The one that makes it sound as if I need humoring!” Crista’s hands balled into fists. “There’s nothing in my uncle’s will that gives you the right to—to come barging into my home! You are not welcome here. Furthermore, I’m—I’m busy!”
“Yes.” Grant’s gaze swung from Crista to Danny. “I can see that.”
“Good.” Crista put her hands on her hips. “Then you won’t mind leaving.”
“After we’ve talked. In private.”
“Crista,” Danny muttered, “I swear, if you want me to take care of this guy—”
“Take care of me?” Grant said very softly. His lips drew back from his teeth in a quick, feral smile. “What a quaint phrase. What, exactly, did you have in mind?”
“Stop it!” Crist
a blew out her breath. “This is ridiculous. Grant, if you’ve anything to say, say it now.”
Grant’s muscles tensed with rage. Jesus, what was happening to him? The boy was Crista’s lover; it didn’t take a genius to figure that out. And he had every right to want to protect her—hell, in another life, Grant would have commended him for it…
But not in this life. Not while Crista was standing so close to him that he could smell the faint scent of violets that clung to her skin, not while he could see the little pulsebeat in her throat…
He gave Danny a smile that was easy, almost lazy. “Did you know that she’s not yet twenty-one?”
“Dammit, Grant! I am of age to—to—”
Crista bit her lip. I am of age to choose my own friends, she’d almost said—but suddenly she realized how this must look to Grant, she in her robe and Danny in those jeans—and it was perfect. Perfect! She might be Grant Landon’s ward—but she was not a child he could intimidate.
And what better way to remind him than to make sure he went on thinking exactly as he was?
With a look of defiance, she half turned to Danny and put her hand lightly on his bare chest.
“I am of age to choose my own lovers!”
She felt Danny’s body twitch with surprise, but—bless him—he kept silent.
“Of course,” Grant said. “You are, indeed, old enough to make certain choices.” His smile sent a flicker of warning up her spine. “Just as it is my duty to make others.”
“Dammit, don’t talk in riddles! Say what you came to say and then go!”
Grant looked at Danny. “Do you live here, Mr…?”
“Amato.” Danny smiled contemptuously. “Of course I live here.”
“You don’t have to answer any of his questions,” Crista said sharply. “Where you live isn’t his concern.”
“Ah, but as your guardian, the expenditure of your funds is very much my concern.” Grant smiled politely. “If you were the sole occupant of this apartment, Crista, we’d have to find a tenant to take over your lease. You do have a lease, don’t you?”
“What are you talking about?”
The simple question almost stopped Grant in his tracks. What in hell was he talking about? He had come to tell Crista that he was not going to interfere in her life, to assure her that he would be nothing more obtrusive than a voice on the phone for the next three months.