Strangers in Paradise by Heather Graham Page A

neither of them seemed to be overladen with trust for the opposite sex. Still, though he was blunt about wanting the peninsula to himself, she felt that she could trust him. With things that were personal—with things she might not say to anyone else.
    â€œWe’re definitely not friends,” she blurted out.
    â€œHurt to talk?” he asked quietly. She felt his voice, felt it wash over her, and she was surprised at the sensitivity in his tone.
    She opened her eyes. A wary smile came to her lips. “I can’t tell you about it.”
    â€œNo?”
    â€œNo.” She kicked off her shoes and curled her stockinged toes under her, taking another long sip of the beer. She hadn’t eaten all day, and the few sips of the alcohol she had taken warmed her and eased her humor. “Suffice it to say that it was all over a long time ago. It wasn’t one woman—it was many. And it was more than that. John never felt that he had taken a wife; he considered himself to have acquired property. It doesn’t matter at all anymore.”
    â€œYou’re afraid of him.” It was a statement, not a question.
    â€œNo! No! How did—?” She stopped herself. She didn’t want to admit anything about her relationship with John.
    â€œYou are,” he said softly. “And I’ve hit a sore spot. I’m sorry.”
    â€œDon’t be. I’m not. Really.”
    â€œYou’re a liar, but we’ll let it go at that for the time being.”
    â€œI’m not—”
    â€œYou are. Something happened that was a rough deal.”
    â€œAhh...” she murmured uneasily. “The plot thickens.”
    He smiled at her. She felt the cadence of his voice wash over her, and it didn’t seem so terrible that he knew that much.
    â€œYou don’t need to be afraid now,” he said softly.
    â€œOh?”
    She liked his smile. She liked the confidence in it. She even liked his macho masculine arrogance as he stated, “I’m very particular about the peninsula. You don’t want him around, he won’t be.”
    Alexi laughed, honestly at first, then with a trace of unease. John could be dangerous when he chose.
    â€œSo that’s it!” Rex said suddenly.
    â€œWhat?”
    He watched her, nodding like a sage with a new piece of wisdom that helped explain the world. “Someone running after you on the sand, footsteps on the stairway, your blind panic last night. You think your ex is after you.”
    â€œNo! I really heard footsteps!”
    â€œAll right. You heard them.”
    â€œYou still don’t believe me!”
    He sighed, and she realized that she was never going to convince him that the footsteps had been real. “You seem to have had it rough,” he said simply.
    She wasn’t going to win an argument. And at the moment she was feeling a bit too languorous to care.
    â€œTalk about rough!” Alexi laughed. She glanced at her beer bottle. “This thing is empty. Feel like getting me another? For a person who doesn’t like people, you certainly are curious—and good at making those people you don’t like talk.”
    He stood up and took the bottle. “I never said that I don’t like people.”
    She closed her eyes again and leaned back as he left her. She had to be insane. She was sitting here drinking beer and enjoying his company and nearly spilling out far too much truth about herself. Or was she spilling it out? He sensed too much. After one bottle of beer, she was smiling too easily. Trusting too quickly. If he did delve into all her secrets, it would serve her right if he displayed them to the world in print. He would change the names of the innocent or the not-so-innocent.
    But, of course, everyone always knew who the real culprit was.
    Something cold touched her hand. He was standing over her with another beer. She smiled. She was tired and lethargic enough to do so.
    â€œMy