transformation. Laughter warmed his face, made him wickedly charming. Her heart seemed to lurch, and she bit her lip. He wasn't for her; she had to quit responding as though he were. He was a man who'd known so many names he had probably forgotten some of them, a loner. Soon he would be gone, without looking back. If she let him touch her heart, even a little, she would be sorry.
"Okay. If your brother will hang around until I get back, I'll go get my 'things.' " With that he vanished from the doorway.
A moment later Bill appeared. "He's gone," he said abruptly. "Megan, I don't know if we should trust him. His story's so far out, it's like something on TV! And he's made damn sure we can't call anybody to check on him. I don't know. Maybe you should come home with me instead."
It was hard for Megan to separate into small compartments the muddled feelings she had for Mac. Fear and uncertainty and anger and a deep, unreasoning attraction that she suspected had had something to do with her capitulation. But trust?
"I'm pretty sure he's telling the truth," she said slowly. "I saved his life and he doesn't like the idea of owing anybody. Unnecessary or not, this is his way of paying off the debt. I think I should let him."
Bill continued to hover in the doorway. He looked uncertain. "Listen," he said awkwardly. "Is there something...well, between you two? I sort of felt in the way. I mean..."
"No!" She tried to moderate her voice. "No. Really. There's nothing. It's just...different, when you've been through something together like that. We're strangers but we're not. It makes us uneasy with each other. That's all."
From her brother's expression, Megan didn't think she'd convinced him. She hadn't even convinced herself. There was an odd thread of tension between her and the man who'd come so dramatically into her life. It was more complicated than mere physical attraction, although her feminine instincts told her that it was mutual. But she didn't understand it and wasn't sure she wanted to.
Refusing to let herself get too analytical, Megan forced a smile for Bill's benefit. "I could use a cup of tea. How about you?"
"Did you already have dinner?"
"I took a break at work."
Her brother shrugged. "I'll have another beer."
Twenty minutes later Mac returned with a small suitcase. Bill left immediately, after telling Megan in an undertone to call if she wanted him.
Megan closed and locked the front door. She was proud of her casual tone when she said good night to Mac. "I'm tired. It's been a long day."
They were in the narrow hallway. But when she took a step forward, Mac didn't move, and she hesitated. If he didn't stand politely aside, she would have to brush by him to get to the stairs. It seemed safer to wait.
"You don't have to run away from me," he said. His voice was quiet, his body relaxed. Yet she had the sense of him coiled and ready, the stillness an illusion.
"I'm not running away," she lied. "I think you should get some rest, too. I'll bet the doctor didn't intend for you to chase after me all day."
Amusement showed in his gray eyes. "Is that what I've been doing?"
"When you weren't scaring me to death," she said tartly.
"I meant well."
"If I didn't believe that, you wouldn't be here."
"You're just humoring me, aren't you?"
"That's right," Megan agreed. "Now if you'll excuse me?"
Mac smiled and stood aside. But as she passed, Megan made the mistake of pausing. Her glance met his and she saw the way he looked at her, the smile gone but his mouth curiously tender. Her feet seemed rooted to the floor. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he took a step toward her and his hands gripped her upper arms. She could feel his warmth and her heart climbed into her throat. Her voice didn't sound like her own. "I don't think..."
"I'm sure you're right," he said huskily. His eyes held an odd light and he let go of one of her arms to lightly grasp her chin instead. She couldn't have moved to save her life. All the tumult of
"Okay. If your brother will hang around until I get back, I'll go get my 'things.' " With that he vanished from the doorway.
A moment later Bill appeared. "He's gone," he said abruptly. "Megan, I don't know if we should trust him. His story's so far out, it's like something on TV! And he's made damn sure we can't call anybody to check on him. I don't know. Maybe you should come home with me instead."
It was hard for Megan to separate into small compartments the muddled feelings she had for Mac. Fear and uncertainty and anger and a deep, unreasoning attraction that she suspected had had something to do with her capitulation. But trust?
"I'm pretty sure he's telling the truth," she said slowly. "I saved his life and he doesn't like the idea of owing anybody. Unnecessary or not, this is his way of paying off the debt. I think I should let him."
Bill continued to hover in the doorway. He looked uncertain. "Listen," he said awkwardly. "Is there something...well, between you two? I sort of felt in the way. I mean..."
"No!" She tried to moderate her voice. "No. Really. There's nothing. It's just...different, when you've been through something together like that. We're strangers but we're not. It makes us uneasy with each other. That's all."
From her brother's expression, Megan didn't think she'd convinced him. She hadn't even convinced herself. There was an odd thread of tension between her and the man who'd come so dramatically into her life. It was more complicated than mere physical attraction, although her feminine instincts told her that it was mutual. But she didn't understand it and wasn't sure she wanted to.
Refusing to let herself get too analytical, Megan forced a smile for Bill's benefit. "I could use a cup of tea. How about you?"
"Did you already have dinner?"
"I took a break at work."
Her brother shrugged. "I'll have another beer."
Twenty minutes later Mac returned with a small suitcase. Bill left immediately, after telling Megan in an undertone to call if she wanted him.
Megan closed and locked the front door. She was proud of her casual tone when she said good night to Mac. "I'm tired. It's been a long day."
They were in the narrow hallway. But when she took a step forward, Mac didn't move, and she hesitated. If he didn't stand politely aside, she would have to brush by him to get to the stairs. It seemed safer to wait.
"You don't have to run away from me," he said. His voice was quiet, his body relaxed. Yet she had the sense of him coiled and ready, the stillness an illusion.
"I'm not running away," she lied. "I think you should get some rest, too. I'll bet the doctor didn't intend for you to chase after me all day."
Amusement showed in his gray eyes. "Is that what I've been doing?"
"When you weren't scaring me to death," she said tartly.
"I meant well."
"If I didn't believe that, you wouldn't be here."
"You're just humoring me, aren't you?"
"That's right," Megan agreed. "Now if you'll excuse me?"
Mac smiled and stood aside. But as she passed, Megan made the mistake of pausing. Her glance met his and she saw the way he looked at her, the smile gone but his mouth curiously tender. Her feet seemed rooted to the floor. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he took a step toward her and his hands gripped her upper arms. She could feel his warmth and her heart climbed into her throat. Her voice didn't sound like her own. "I don't think..."
"I'm sure you're right," he said huskily. His eyes held an odd light and he let go of one of her arms to lightly grasp her chin instead. She couldn't have moved to save her life. All the tumult of
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