An Unforgettable Lady

"Grace—".

"Are you going to leave?"

"No." He frowned. "What makes you think I might?"

"That's pretty obvious, isn't it?"

"I'm still going to take care of you," he said, meeting her eyes directly. "Nothing's changed."

She took a deep breath and let it out. "Unfortunately, I suppose that's true."

The plane came to a standstill.

"I wasn't prepared for what happened last night," he said grimly.

"Look, you don't owe me anything. Apologies or explanations." She shot him an overly bright smile. "I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself. You should just forget about it."

Throwing off her seat belt, she reached down for her purse, gathered her folders in her arms, and rushed off the plane as if she couldn't wait to get rid of him.

Christ.

He knew that getting involved with her would be one hell of a complication. Now he was acting like a head case, she was hurt, and they were back in New York, where the killer had probably spent the weekend sharpening his knives.

If this job were going any worse, Smith thought, someone would be bleeding.

Eddie was waiting for them in front of the terminal and he helped get the luggage into the Explorer. The man was in a sunny mood.

"I was surprised you came back so early," he said as they got into the car. "What with the good weather and all."

Smith grunted while Grace offered the man a tight smile,

"Say, how are the creative writing classes going?" she asked him.

Eddie smiled into the rearview mirror as he pulled away from the curb. "They're going real well. We're doing dramatic tension right now."

How appropriate, Smith thought.

The ride into the city was quiet and strained. When they slowed to a stop in front of the penthouse, Smith got out first and was looking around as Grace stepped onto the sidewalk.

When the release on the back hatch popped, Smith went around to pick up their luggage. He'd grabbed Grace's bag and was pulling it free of the car when she went to take it

from him and stumbled on the curb. He had just slipped his arm around her waist to keep her from falling when they heard her name being called out.

They both looked to the sound just as a photographer leaned out of a car window and started snapping pictures. With the flashbulb going off like a strobe light, the car careened into traffic.

Smith cursed and almost ran after the guy but he didn't want to leave Grace. Even as he trained his eyes on the license plate, he knew it was too late. The pictures had been taken and there wasn't much he could do about it.

As he looked at Grace, he saw exhaustion settle into her eyes.

"It's going to be everywhere tomorrow," she said, wearily.

* * *

It was past eleven o'clock when Grace decided to take a warm shower in hopes of making herself sleepy. She was on her way to the bathroom when the phone rang and she let it go into voice mail. There was no one she wanted to talk to at this hour.

If it was Lieutenant Marks with another gruesome announcement, he'd call John. And if it was her mother, she definitely didn't want to pick the thing up. She'd left a message at Willings with a warning about the pictures, but she didn't want to fight about the situation. Not tonight.

As she took off her robe, she had a deadweight in her stomach even though she hadn't eaten dinner. Smith had cooked up something that smelled appetizing, but she'd turned him down when he'd asked her to sit with him. If she was trying to shut him out, however, she didn't have much luck. He had a stranglehold on her mind.

He'd told her he was sorry and she believed he had regrets. They'd been pretty obvious both in his eyes and in his apology. She told herself she couldn't be surprised. And, at least he had the decency to care that she was hurt. She had a feeling he hadn't spared the effort with a lot of the other women he'd had.

She groaned, remembering again how it had felt to have him on top of her, kissing her, touching her.

God help her, she wanted to be with him again. And yes, even if it meant getting hurt in the morning.

It was hard not to be disappointed with her libido and she wondered why she couldn't be attracted to someone more reasonable. After all, Eugene Fessnick, CPA, was single. She could probably even get her taxes done for free if they were dating.

But no, she had to pick someone who was never going to settle down. Someone who was hot and passionate and managed to create chaos and havoc in her life. The El Nino, of men.

Clearly, her sense of self-preservation needed a serious overhaul.

She was toweling off when a dark shape appeared in the doorway. Quickly covering herself, she looked at John's silhouette in surprise. In the quiet stillness, he was overpowering and she sensed the tension in his body.

Had it been Lieutenant Marks after all?