drifted down to his lips, which were now curved into a faint, but truly sexy, smile. As far as I could tell, he still hadn’t taken in the view my wet T-shirt offered.
I let the towel settle around my shoulders and peered up at him, trying to get a read on him. I noticed the gold band that circled his ring finger. I’d neglected to ask Jeffrey how long ago his mother had died, though I knew from his fresh grief it had been recent. I thought it notable; however, that Blackburn still wore the wedding band. If he’d married and murdered her for her money, it seemed like he’d dispense with the ring while in the privacy of his own home.
He saw the direction of my gaze, and the smile faded. “Please forgive my . . . erratic manners. My wife passed away last month and I’m not quite myself yet.”
“Oh!” I gasped in feigned surprise. “I’m so sorry!” I reached out to touch his arm in a gesture of feminine sympathy. He looked appropriately sad, but it was hard to see that crack about the condoms as anything but flirting. Of course, some men flirt by instinct. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything.
“Thank you,” he said, gently extracting his arm from my
grip. “The phone is this way.”
I prised my wet sneakers off and left them on the doormat, then followed Blackburn through the dining room and into the kitchen. He indicated the phone on the wall, then settled his butt against the butcher-block counter across from me and watched with unnerving intensity as I dialled.
57
“You must not be new to car trouble,” he said.
I frowned at him as the phone began to ring. “Why do you say that?” As soon as the words left my mouth, my brain caught up and I knew what he was about to say.
“You’ve memorized the number for the tow truck.”
I grinned ruefully; I was letting myself get too hot and bothered by Mr Ross Blackburn. Hormones and clear thinking don’t go together. “My car’s a piece of shit,” I confided. “Pardon my French.”
Finally, Miles answered the phone with his usual brusque,
“Yeah?”
“Hi,” I said. “This is Gemma Johanson. I need a tow truck at . . .” I gave Blackburn a raised eyebrow, and he told me the address, which I dutifully repeated.
“That so?” Miles asked. He was used to calls like these, though usually I warned him in advance that I’d be calling and let him know who he was supposed to be.
“How long will it take?”
“How long do you want it to take?” he countered.
“An hour!” I wailed in mock dismay, and Miles snorted with laughter at my acting. “It’s after midnight, and I’m stuck in some stranger’s house. Can’t you get someone here faster?”
“An hour, eh? I take it this one is going to die with a smile
on his face?”
I sighed dramatically, wishing Miles would get his mind out of the gutter. Never mind that mine was there right with him.
58
“Oh all right!” I said with exaggerated patience. “But I’m not
keeping my host up for a whole hour.”
Another snort of laughter. “I’m sure you’re quite capable of
it.”
“I’ll be waiting outside on the porch. In the rain. So if he can come faster, I’d really appreciate it.” I’d been an actress back in the days when “actress” was often a euphemism for something entirely different. However, my acting skills were enough to keep me form bursting into laughter at the repeated innuendo.
I hung up before Miles could deliver another one-liner. I was good, but I wasn’t cocky enough to think I’d be able to hide my amusement forever.
Across the kitchen from me, Blackburn was watching me with a curious half-smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eye. It was almost as if he’d heard both halves of that conversation, but I was sure the volume on the phone hadn’t been high enough for that. The half-smile broadened into a full-out smile.
“I suppose you expect me to feel properly guilty and
I let the towel settle around my shoulders and peered up at him, trying to get a read on him. I noticed the gold band that circled his ring finger. I’d neglected to ask Jeffrey how long ago his mother had died, though I knew from his fresh grief it had been recent. I thought it notable; however, that Blackburn still wore the wedding band. If he’d married and murdered her for her money, it seemed like he’d dispense with the ring while in the privacy of his own home.
He saw the direction of my gaze, and the smile faded. “Please forgive my . . . erratic manners. My wife passed away last month and I’m not quite myself yet.”
“Oh!” I gasped in feigned surprise. “I’m so sorry!” I reached out to touch his arm in a gesture of feminine sympathy. He looked appropriately sad, but it was hard to see that crack about the condoms as anything but flirting. Of course, some men flirt by instinct. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything.
“Thank you,” he said, gently extracting his arm from my
grip. “The phone is this way.”
I prised my wet sneakers off and left them on the doormat, then followed Blackburn through the dining room and into the kitchen. He indicated the phone on the wall, then settled his butt against the butcher-block counter across from me and watched with unnerving intensity as I dialled.
57
“You must not be new to car trouble,” he said.
I frowned at him as the phone began to ring. “Why do you say that?” As soon as the words left my mouth, my brain caught up and I knew what he was about to say.
“You’ve memorized the number for the tow truck.”
I grinned ruefully; I was letting myself get too hot and bothered by Mr Ross Blackburn. Hormones and clear thinking don’t go together. “My car’s a piece of shit,” I confided. “Pardon my French.”
Finally, Miles answered the phone with his usual brusque,
“Yeah?”
“Hi,” I said. “This is Gemma Johanson. I need a tow truck at . . .” I gave Blackburn a raised eyebrow, and he told me the address, which I dutifully repeated.
“That so?” Miles asked. He was used to calls like these, though usually I warned him in advance that I’d be calling and let him know who he was supposed to be.
“How long will it take?”
“How long do you want it to take?” he countered.
“An hour!” I wailed in mock dismay, and Miles snorted with laughter at my acting. “It’s after midnight, and I’m stuck in some stranger’s house. Can’t you get someone here faster?”
“An hour, eh? I take it this one is going to die with a smile
on his face?”
I sighed dramatically, wishing Miles would get his mind out of the gutter. Never mind that mine was there right with him.
58
“Oh all right!” I said with exaggerated patience. “But I’m not
keeping my host up for a whole hour.”
Another snort of laughter. “I’m sure you’re quite capable of
it.”
“I’ll be waiting outside on the porch. In the rain. So if he can come faster, I’d really appreciate it.” I’d been an actress back in the days when “actress” was often a euphemism for something entirely different. However, my acting skills were enough to keep me form bursting into laughter at the repeated innuendo.
I hung up before Miles could deliver another one-liner. I was good, but I wasn’t cocky enough to think I’d be able to hide my amusement forever.
Across the kitchen from me, Blackburn was watching me with a curious half-smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eye. It was almost as if he’d heard both halves of that conversation, but I was sure the volume on the phone hadn’t been high enough for that. The half-smile broadened into a full-out smile.
“I suppose you expect me to feel properly guilty and
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