Jeopardy by Fayrene Preston Page A

remained, as ever, an enigma.
    At the same time, she had no idea what was going on with her. Each time he touched her, she went up in flames. What kind of sense did that make? She had known him for years. She could find no explanation. A prudent retreat, she decided, was the only answer.

    It was the feeling of emptiness that awakened Amarillo as the first golden rays of the day’s sun began to filter through the window behind him.
    His hand shot out to the place beside him. The sheets were cool. Unoccupied. Abandoned.
    He clenched his hand into a fist and slammed it into the bed. Damn!

    Angelica walked into her bedroom that evening, kicked off her shoes, and shrugged out of her suit jacket. She was exhausted, but she headed straight for her closet and her luggage. Sometime during the day she had decided that she would leave for SwanSea the next day. She had labored feverishly to finish as much of her work as possible. As for the work she had been unable to complete, she had decided that what could not be handled from SwanSea could wait until her return. She needed to get out of town.
    Amarillo had not tried to see her or talk with her that day, but she had decided not to worry about what he was thinking or feeling. More than likely he was very embarrassed about the previous night. He might even blame the whole situation on her in some way. He had obviously decided to stay away from*her. In any event, he was impenetrable as granite. It would take dynamite to blow him apart and see what was inside him, and she simply didn’t feel up to using explosives.
    It had been a night of wonder to her. Together they had traveled to heights she had never dreamed possible. She knew she would never be the same, either emotionally or physically.
    But she had to go on with her life.
    It wasn’t in her to dismiss lightly what had happened between them, nor could she forget it. But what she could do was to view the whole thing as a freak occurrence, and, in addition, physically leave the situation.
    She set about packing with a vengeance, and sometime later, when she heard the doorbell ring, her task was nearly completed.
    On her way to answer the bell, she cast a satisfied glance at the red-violet ballgown that had been delivered earlier in the evening. It was in a plastic bag and ready to be laid on the backseat of her car for the following day’s trip.
    Downstairs she stood on her stockinged feet to peer through the door’s security peephole. What she saw made her pulse pound into overdrive.
    Amarillo was on her porch, a scowl of anger on his face.
    She straightened and pressed suddenly shaking fingers to her forehead, undecided what she should do. She felt extremely stupid, because for some reason that totally escaped her at the moment he was the last person she had expected to see on her doorstep.
    The bell rang the second time. Her mind cleared. There was really only one course of action open to her. She let him in.
    “About time,” he said, stepping into the entry hall. “What took you so long?” 
     She closed the door and folded her hands across her breasts. “Hello, Amarillo. Why are you here?”
    “It’s not obvious?”
    The sharpness of his voice stabbed at her, attempting to cut into her. His anger must have been simmering all day, she thought, and definitely had something to do with the previous night. She just wished she knew what so that she could prepare herself. She turned and started down the hall. “Come into the living room.”
    “Why do you look so tired?” he asked as they entered a spacious, elegantly furnished room.
    “Maybe because I am. Look, why don’t you go ahead and get whatever it is that’s bothering you off your chest so that I can get to bed early tonight."
    His hands flipped back his jacket before they settled on his hips. “Whatever it is that’s bothering me? Lady, you are one cool customer. We just spent a night joined together in the hottest, sweatiest, most intimate ways imaginable,