sharply at her smooth, oval face. There was no question that she was pretty. But she had a wide-eyed earnestness about her that was disconcertingly disarming. “Are you new to the area, too?”
“Pretty much.” She swiped her hand over her forehead, leaving her bangs in disheveled spikes, and another smear of blood in its wake.
“Then as a Seattle lifer, I can’t have you thinking we’re hogs on the running trails.” He put his arm around her again, and this time she didn’t protest. He took part of her weight as they laboriously stepped along the path. It would have been much more expedient for him just to tote her entirely, but this time he kept his mouth shut on the reasoning.
“On the left.”
He looked over his shoulder at the runner bearing down on them and moved the girl out of the way with plenty of time as the young guy trotted past.
“Worked for him,” Gray pointed out.
She gave a soft half laugh, as if she couldn’t quite prevent it, even though she wanted to. “He also wasn’t going eighty in a thirty-mile zone.”
He knew he’d been putting on the speed. Trying to outrun the problem hanging over him. “You should visit the hospital,” he said again. “The bill won’t be a problem,” he assured somewhat drily.
“I suppose you’re another one of those guys who made a fortune in the dot-coms or something.” She flicked him a glance from beneath those long, soft lashes.
“Or something,” he murmured, giving her another measuring look. It wasn’t arrogant of him to say that he was somewhat well-known, particularly in the Seattle area. Either she was a master of understatement, or she hadn’t recognized him. Once he told her his name, though, she undoubtedly would. “Where’d you say you moved from?”
Her eyebrow arched. “I didn’t.”
They rounded another curve in the path. It was beginning to level out. Another quarter mile, he knew, and they’d be back at the lot where his BMW was parked. “If you won’t let me take you to the hospital, at least let me get you to a clinic. You need some first aid, here. Even you must admit that.”
She stopped her laborious limp of a walk and gave him a searching look. “Why are you doing this?”
“That’s an odd question.”
“Why?”
“I plowed over you.”
“Well—” she looked slightly discomfited “—I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
“Big is a relative term,” he countered. “I could fit you in my pocket.”
“Or your trunk.”
He frowned at the flat statement. “Believe me, honey, you’re safe with me.”
She looked away again.
“And if you’re so wary of strangers, why do you run at this hour of the morning? It’s just now getting light and there are hardly any people here.”
“I fit it in before work.” She still sounded stiff. “Why are you here at this hour?”
“I fit it in before work,” he returned.
Her lips compressed. “Well, there you go, then.” She began limping along again, faster this time, but no less awkwardly. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I really…well, I really don’t need your coddling. And I have things to do before I go to work.”
He could see the parking lot. There was only one car.
His.
“You plan to walk back home, then, do you?”
“That’s how I got here.”
There was no question that she’d decline if he suggested he drive her there. It was an odd position for him. There were people who liked him for who he was, and who didn’t for the very same reason. But he’d never once been looked at with such wary distrust by another person.
He didn’t know whether to laugh at himself for his own surprise at that, or whether to applaud her caution.
He had a million things on his schedule that day, not least of which was a meeting with Harry about the upcoming release of their latest operating platform. But he couldn’t deny his reluctance at letting the girl just walk away.
And not only because of the whispering inside his head that hadn’t ceased even when he’d stopped running.
Why else would he have noticed that this woman who didn’t seem to know him wore no rings on her slender fingers; showed no evidence of having recently taken any off?
It was expedience that motivated him.
Not the way those wide eyes beckoned. Soft. Deep.
“Can I call someone for you? Your husband? Boyfriend?”
“Don’t have one.”
He let that settle inside him.
“Since you won’t go the doctor route, will you at least let me stock you up with antiseptic and bandages?”
She looked torn, confirming his suspicion that she hadn’t been exaggerating about wanting to avoid another bill. Even one so minor as first aid supplies. “It’s the least I can do—” He lifted his brows, waiting.
“Amelia,” she provided after a moment. “Amelia White.”
Brown, he determined, now that the sunlight was breaking over them in earnest. Her eyes were brown with a mix of golden flecks. “Nice to meet you, Amelia. I’m—” He barely even hesitated, which just proved he was as manipulative as people said. “Matthew. Gray,” he tacked on.
“I suppose that’s yours.” She nodded toward the BMW. “Matthew Gray.”
There was denying, and there was denying. “Company car.” Could it really be so easy to meet a woman who didn’t know who he was?
Thankfully oblivious to the devil inside his head that laughed uproariously at his piqued ego, she made a soft humming sound. “What kind of company?”
“Sales,” he improvised.
“Sales must be good.” She said it so mildly and seriously he wasn’t certain whether he imagined the sarcasm or not.
“They’re not bad. Are you going to make me call a cab for you? Never mind. I can see by your expression that I am.”
She shrugged a little. “Just yesterday I told my niece, Molly, not to talk to strangers, even when they seem friendly. What kind of example would I be setting if I don’t follow my own advice?”
Niece. Not daughter.
“When you put it that way, how can I argue?” He helped her across the lot and she waited, shapely seat propped against the hood of his
