Public Secrets

read that somewhere. It’s fully developed when the young male anticipates the arrival of Sports Illustrated’s swim-suit issue as much as he anticipates the football preview.” When Michael grinned, she lifted a brow. “It was your loss. I had quite a crush on you.”

“Did you?” He skimmed his fingers up her back to toy with the ends of her hair.
“Absolutely. Your father had told me about how you’d roller-skated off the roof. I wanted to ask you how it felt.”
“Before or after I regained consciousness?”
“In flight.”
“I guess I was up for about three seconds. It was the best three seconds of my life.”
It was exactly what she’d hoped he’d say. “Do your parents still live in that same house?”
“Yeah. You couldn’t get them out with a howitzer.”
“It’s nice,” she mused. “To have a place like that, a place that’s always home. I felt that way about the loft.”
“Is that where you’re going to live when you go back?”
“I don’t know.” The haunted look came back into her eyes, and lingered. “I may not go back.”
He thought she must have loved her husband very much to be so hurt the marriage was over. “There are some nice places along the beach. I remember you like the water.”
“Yes, I do.”
He wanted to see her smile again. “Do you still want to learn how to surf?”
She did smile, but it was wistful. “I haven’t thought about it in years.”
“I have Sunday off. I’ll give you a lesson.”
She glanced up. There was a challenge in his eyes, just enough of one to hook her. “All right.”
He brushed a kiss at her temple in a gesture so easy, she was hardly aware of it. “You know, Emma, when I told you I was sorry about you and your husband…”He brought her hand to his lips. “I lied.”
She retreated instantly. Turning, she began to gather the dishes. “I’ll help you wash up.”
He stepped back to the table, putting a hand over both of hers. “It doesn’t come as that much of a surprise, does it?”
She made herself look at him. The light was pearly with dusk. Behind him, the eastern sky was deep, deep blue. His eyes were on hers, very direct, a little impatient. “No.” She turned and took the dishes inside.

Though it cost him, he didn’t press. She was vulnerable, he reminded himself. A person was bound to be just after the breakup of a marriage. So he’d give her time, as much as he could stand.
She didn’t relax again. Couldn’t. What kind of a woman was she to be drawn to one man so soon after she’d left another? She didn’t want to think about it. Her mind was made up. She would never become involved again. She would never allow herself to be trapped by love, by marriage. Now she only wanted to go back to her hotel, to lock the doors and feel safe for a few hours.
“It’s getting late. I really should get back. Can I call a cab?”
“I’ll take you back.”
“You don’t have to. I can—”
“Emma. I said I’d take you.”
Stop it. Stop it, she ordered herself and pulled her nervous fingers apart. “Thanks.”
“Relax. If you’re not ready for the incredibly romantic affair we’re going to have, I can wait. It’s only been eighteen years so far.”
She wasn’t sure whether to be amused or annoyed. “An affair takes two people,” she said lightly. “I’m afraid I’ve sworn off.”
“Like I said, I can wait.” He scooped up his keys. At the jingle of them, Conroy leaped into the air, barking.
“He likes to ride in the car,” Michael explained. “Shut up, Conroy.”
Knowing a true ally, the dog shuffled over to Emma, head low. “Can he come?” she asked as he rested his head against her thigh.
“I’ve got an MG.”
“I don’t mind being crowded.”
“He’ll shed all over you.”
“It’s all right.”
Conroy followed the conversation, one ear pricked. Michael would have sworn the dog snickered. “You win, Conroy.” Michael pointed toward the front door. Sensing victory, Conroy bolted. His waving tail struck Emma’s purse and knocked it from table to floor.

When Michael bent to retrieve it, the clasp gave and the contents spilled out. Before he could apologize, he saw the .38. Emma said nothing as he lifted it, turning it over in his hand. It was top grade, the best automatic of that caliber that Smith and Wesson had to offer. It was glossy as silk and heavy in his hand. No elegant ladies’ gun, this one was mean and for business only. He pulled out the clip, found it full, then snapped it