Tidewater Lover by Janet Dailey Page A

correspondent in some divorce suit."
    Cole winced mockingly. "Please don't remind me how close I came to having Monica for my wife. A man doesn't like to believe he was ever that much of a fool."
    "She's very beautiful," Lacey commented absently, picturing the green-eyed blonde in her mind.
    "If ever the saying 'Beauty is as beauty does' is true, it is when it's applied to Monica," Cole stated. Then he asked unexpectedly, "Can you cook?"
    It took Lacey a second to follow his rapid change of the subject. "I'm about average—definitely not cordon bleu. Why?"
    "I'm hungry and I was hoping I could persuade you to fix breakfast," he grinned.
    "I think first I'll get dressed," she replied, adding silently to herself, before any more visitors show up.
    Cole rubbed the stubble on his chin. "And I still have to shave. You said my razor was in the cabinet?"
    Lacey nodded. "I noticed it there this morning."
    She was only a step behind him as he started down the hallway. When he stopped at the bathroom door, she started to walk by him to her bedroom, but he laid a hand on her forearm to stop her.
    "I want you to know that I didn't mean this to happen this morning," he told her, a serious frown drawing his dark brows together. "When I made the suggestion last night that we both stay here, I had no plan whatsoever to use you to get rid of Monica."
    "I believe that," she assured him. "It never occurred to me that you might have."
    "I hope not." Cole paused for a second. "If I'd known she was coming over this morning, I would have insisted you leave rather than have you the subject of her vile suspicions."
    "It doesn't matter." Lacey didn't want to dwell on Monica's suspicions, "Would you like bacon or sausage with your eggs?" she asked, using his tactic of changing the subject.
    "Bacon—crisp," he smiled, aware of what she was doing. "And three poached eggs on a slice of dark toast."
    "I was asking your preference, not taking your order," she sighed with mocking exasperation.
    His smile deepened for a teasing minute before he walked into the bathroom and closed the door. Lacey stared at the white woodwork, then moved to her own bedroom.
    Cole Whitfield. The man in person was vastly different from the ill-tempered voice on the telephone. This Cole Whitfield she could like.
     

 
    Chapter Four
     
    THE BACON was already fried and draining on a paper towel when Cole wandered into the kitchen-dining area. Lacey lifted the poached eggs onto the dark toast.
    "Looks good." He reached across the counter bar to take the plate from her hand.
    Lacey hoped the food tasted good, but she didn't say so. "The silverware, salt and pepper are already on the table. Coffee to drink or would you like something else?"
    "Coffee is fine." He moved to the table where a place setting and a clean cup were laid. Lacey brought him the plate of bacon, as well as the coffee pot to fill his cup. He glanced around the table, then at her. "Aren't you eating?"
    "Just a slice of toast" She walked back to the kitchen area for her coffee cup and thesmall plate with additional slices of toast on it, one for her and the rest for him.  
    "Are you watching your figure?" There was something mocking in the sweeping look he gave her as she turned to rejoin him. Lacey hoped it implied that there was nothing wrong with her shape.
    "No," she said. "I thought I'd go for a swim, so I didn't want anything heavy in my stomach."
    She had expected him to say he would come with her, but he only nodded at her statement. Lacey wondered what he planned to do but decided it was better not to pry. After all, nobody liked a nosy roommate.
    The colored bamboo blinds at the dining-room windows were raised, letting in the morning sunlight. Lacey nibbled at her toast and gazed at the ocean view of sparkling waves and brilliant gold beaches.
    "How long have you worked for Bowman?" Cole asked with apparent casualness.
    "I've worked for the firm for almost five years and for M…Mr. Bowman the past