Deadline (Sandra Brown)

the scruff, but it worked for him. As did the long hair. Somehow. He’d changed into a more presentable pair of khaki shorts and a black linen shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. And he smelled good.
    But none of that made her feel any more kindly toward him. “I told you to stay away from us.”
    “Your nanny invited me over to your table to meet you. If I had refused, it would have looked like obvious avoidance, wouldn’t it? To say nothing of being rude.”
    She didn’t address that logic, because he was right. “What do you want?”
    “An interview.”
    “Have a nice life.” She started to turn away.
    “Wait, that was a joke. That’s not why I came after you.”
    “Well?”
    “Do you always carry the pepper spray?”
    “No. I have two curious children who could come across it when they’re looking for something else in my purse.”
    “So where do you keep it?”
    “Where it would be handy if I had an intruder.”
    “It wasn’t handy when Willard Strong surprised you in your kitchen that afternoon?”
    “No. But even if it had been, he had a loaded shotgun and his finger was on the trigger.”
    “If you don’t keep the pepper spray with you at all times, then what good is it?”
    “It got your attention today, didn’t it?”
    He smiled with chagrin. “Ah, you got me with that one.”
    “We’ve exhausted the subject anyway. Good-bye.”
    “Where did Jeremy work?”
    The abrupt switch of subject threw her off.
    He said, “You testified that you’d called his workplace. Where was he working?”
    “Your flea-on-a-single-hair lady came up empty?”
    “Easier just to ask you.”
    Seeing no reason to withhold the information, she cited the name of the construction firm. “They specialize in commercial buildings. Large facilities. Schools, factories, medical complexes. Jeremy was one of their electrical engineers.”
    “Okay.”
    “He was very good at it,” she said, hating herself for sounding defensive.
    “How did he get to that from sniper training for the Marines?”
    “So, you have done your research.”
    “Some. I’m still in the process.”
    “Jeremy held a degree in that field. After leaving the corps, he applied for a position with the firm, met the qualifications, and—”
    “Congressman Nolan called in a favor.”
    She stiffened her spine.
    “Okay, that was a cheap shot.”
    “You’re damn right it was. Good-bye.”
    “Just one more thing.”
    “I don’t think so.”
    “This isn’t even a question.”
    “They’re waiting for me in the car, Mr. Scott.”
    “Check under your front doormat.”
    “What?”
    “I left something there for you.”
    “Under the doormat?”
    “The photographs.”
    “Oh, the photographs. How cavalier.” She gave him a drop-dead look. “You could replace them with a keystroke on your laptop. Or just take more.”
    “I won’t. I promise. I know they made you uncomfortable.”
    “Pictures of me and my children, taken by a total stranger. You bet they made me uncomfortable. Especially since you failed to explain the reason for them.”
    “I didn’t explain?”
    “No. And I asked.”
    “Oh. I took them so I could study you.”
    “As part of your research?”
    “No, so I could get to know you.”
    “I don’t want you to know me.”
    It could have been a trick of the lights along the dock, reflecting off the water. Or his gaze really did move down to her mouth when he said in a low and stirring voice, “That’s too bad.”
    Mistrusting herself to come up with an appropriate put-down that would have any oomph behind it, she turned away from him without speaking another word.
    *  *  *
     
    Stef was on her way downstairs as Amelia was making tired progress up.
    “What was that about?”
    “What?”
    “Why’d you brush him off like that?”
    “Who?”
    Stef propped her fist on her hip. “Seriously?”
    “I didn’t brush him off.” She wanted to add that she also didn’t need to defend herself to anyone, but especially not to an employee. But that would have sounded as peevish as she felt, so she let it go. “I’ve lectured the boys about being cautious with strangers. I was setting an example.”
    “He’s not a stranger. He’s renting the house next door.”
    “Anybody could rent the house next door.”
    “Point taken. But if that guy had looked at me like that, I would have—”
    “Like what?”
    “Like he wanted to lick you all over.”
    “Stephanie!”
    The younger woman only laughed.