Do I get to come in?" he asked.
She shrugged and stood aside. "I'm just packing."
"Moving again?" he asked with faint sarcasm. "You used to be easier to keep track of."
"Because I was living in a nest of spies!" she threw at him, having only recently gleaned that bit of information from Colby. "You got me an apartment surrounded by government agents!"
"It was the safest place for you," he said simply. "Someone was always watching you when I couldn't."
"I didn't need watching!"
"You did," he returned, perching on the arm of her big easy chair to stare at her intently. "You never realized it, but you were a constant target for anyone who had a grudge against me. In the end, it was why I gave up government work and got a job in the private sector." He folded his arms over his broad chest, watching surprise claim her features. "There was a communist agent with a high-powered rifle one day, and a South American gentlemen with an automatic pistol the following week. You were never told about them. But you had two close calls. If you hadn't been living in a 'nest of spies,' I'd have buried you. Funerals are expensive," he added with a cold smile. She stared at him blankly. "Why didn't you just send me back to South Dakota?" she asked.
"To your stepfather?" he drawled.
That was still a sore spot with her, and she was certain that he knew it. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of arguing. He seemed to be spoiling for a fight. She turned away to the kitchen. "Want a cup of coffee?"
He got up and took her by the shoulders. "I'm sorry," he said. "That was a low blow."
"Another in a long line of them lately," she said without meeting his eyes. "I seem to do nothing except rub you the wrong way."
"And you don't know why?" he asked curtly, letting her go.
She moved one shoulder as she went about the business of getting down a cup and saucer. "At a guess, you're mad at somebody you can't get to, and I'm the stand-in."
He chuckled. "How do you see through me so easily? Even my mother can't do that."
If he thought about it, he'd know, she thought miserably.
She shrugged and stood aside. "I'm just packing."
"Moving again?" he asked with faint sarcasm. "You used to be easier to keep track of."
"Because I was living in a nest of spies!" she threw at him, having only recently gleaned that bit of information from Colby. "You got me an apartment surrounded by government agents!"
"It was the safest place for you," he said simply. "Someone was always watching you when I couldn't."
"I didn't need watching!"
"You did," he returned, perching on the arm of her big easy chair to stare at her intently. "You never realized it, but you were a constant target for anyone who had a grudge against me. In the end, it was why I gave up government work and got a job in the private sector." He folded his arms over his broad chest, watching surprise claim her features. "There was a communist agent with a high-powered rifle one day, and a South American gentlemen with an automatic pistol the following week. You were never told about them. But you had two close calls. If you hadn't been living in a 'nest of spies,' I'd have buried you. Funerals are expensive," he added with a cold smile. She stared at him blankly. "Why didn't you just send me back to South Dakota?" she asked.
"To your stepfather?" he drawled.
That was still a sore spot with her, and she was certain that he knew it. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of arguing. He seemed to be spoiling for a fight. She turned away to the kitchen. "Want a cup of coffee?"
He got up and took her by the shoulders. "I'm sorry," he said. "That was a low blow."
"Another in a long line of them lately," she said without meeting his eyes. "I seem to do nothing except rub you the wrong way."
"And you don't know why?" he asked curtly, letting her go.
She moved one shoulder as she went about the business of getting down a cup and saucer. "At a guess, you're mad at somebody you can't get to, and I'm the stand-in."
He chuckled. "How do you see through me so easily? Even my mother can't do that."
If he thought about it, he'd know, she thought miserably.
( Diana Palmer )
[ Paper Rose ]
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