Strangers in Paradise by Heather Graham

tangible, seemed to be filling the air. Alexi inhaled deeply; she cleared her throat.
    â€œI think I’ll have one of your beers,” she said. “Since they are in my refrigerator.”
    â€œHelp yourself.”
    She hesitated. Then she spoke. “Want one?”
    He, too, hesitated. It was as if he, too, sensed some form of commitment in the moment. Then he shrugged, and a slow smile that was rueful and sexy and insinuating curled the corners of his lip.
    â€œSure,” he told her. “Sure. Why not?”

Chapter 3
    A lexi passed him quickly and hurried on into the kitchen. She dug into the refrigerator for two beers.
    â€œAre you the one who has kept the kitchen clean?” she asked casually. It was spotless; Alexi imagined that one could have eaten off the floor and not have worried about dirt or germs. The rest of the place was a dust bowl.
    â€œIn a manner of speaking. A woman comes out twice a week to do my place. She spends an hour or so here.”
    Alexi nodded and handed him a beer. She walked past him, somehow determined to sit in the parlor, even though the kitchen was by far the cleaner place.
    Maybe it was the only way she could get herself to go back into the room.
    She knew he was behind her. Once she reached the parlor she sank heavily into the Victorian sofa, discovering that she was exhausted. Rex Morrow sat across from her, straddling a straight-backed chair. Cool Hand Luke in a contemporary dark knit.
    He smiled again, and she realized he knew she was staring at him and wondering about him. And of course, at the same time, she realized that he was watching her speculatively.
    â€œYou’re staring,” he said.
    â€œSo are you.”
    He shrugged. “I’m curious.”
    â€œAbout what?”
    He laughed, and it was an easy sound, surprisingly pleasant. “Well, you are Alexi Jordan.”
    She lifted her hands, eyeing him warily in return. “And you are Rex Morrow.”
    â€œHardly worthy of the gossip columns.”
    â€œThat’s because writers get to keep their privacy.”
    â€œOnly if they hole out in places like this.”
    She didn’t say anything; she took a long sip of her beer, wrinkling her nose. She really didn’t like the brand; its taste was too bitter for her.
    It was better than nothing.
    â€œWell?” he said insinuatingly, arching a dark brow.
    â€œWell, what?”
    â€œWant to tell me about it?”
    â€œAbout what?”
    â€œThe rich, lusty scandal involving the one and only Alexi Jordan.”
    Only a writer could make it all sound so sordid, Alexi decided. But she couldn’t deny the scandal. “Why on earth should I?” she countered smoothly.
    He lifted his hands, grinning. “Well, because I’m curious, I suppose.”
    â€œWonderful,” she said, nodding gravely. “I should spill my guts to a novelist. Great idea.”
    He laughed. “I write horror and suspense, not soap operas. You’re safe with me.”
    â€œHaven’t you read all about it in the rags?”
    â€œI only read the front pages of those things when I’m waiting in line at the grocery store. One of them said you left him for another man. Another said John Vinto left you for another woman. Some say you hate each other. That there are deep, dark secrets hidden away in it all. Some claim that the world-famous photographer and his world-famous wife are still on good terms. The best of friends. So, what’s the real story?”
    Alexi leaned back on the couch, closing her eyes. She was so tired of the whole thing, of being pursued. She still felt some of the pain—it was like being punch-drunk. The divorce had actually gone through almost a year ago.
    â€œWho knows what is truth?” she said, not opening her eyes. She didn’t know why she should tell Rex Morrow—of all people—anything. But an intimacy had formed between them. Strange. They were both hostile;