A Marked Man. Stella Cameron

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down. The identity was obvious.

      Annie came to stand on the other side of the door.

      Ringing or knocking again would send her back upstairs and he’d never get in. Quietly, he waited.

      At last she moved, took off the deadbolt, unlocked the door and opened it a few inches. The chain was still on and she peered out at him through a narrow space.

      “Did Wazoo tell you to come around here?” she said.

      “No.”

      “No,” Annie repeated. “I didn’t think so, but if she had it would only be because she was tryin’ to help me.”

      “She’s a nice woman. Funny sometimes.”

      “Having premonitions doesn’t make you funny,” Annie said. She scooped up the cat and it flopped over her shoulder with its back legs hanging straight down.

      “I didn’t say—”

      “Yes, you did.”

      He hadn’t noticed a tendency for her to jump to conclusions before this. When someone insisted they were right, about something pretty stupid, and they wouldn’t listen to reason, Max got overheated. “She’s funny,” he repeated. “People laugh at some of what she says and does. I think she likes it.” And he was the one overreacting.

      “She’s a natural comedian,” Annie said, “but she does like it when she makes people laugh.”

      Max didn’t want to invite himself in.

      “You’ve had a rotten day,” he said. “Too much has happened to be good for you.”

      “I don’t think having a friend go missin’ can be easy to cope with, either,” she said. Annie raised her head. “Today’s been bad for both of us. Would you like to come in for a bit?”

      “Yes,” he said. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

      Why had the man in the café tried to smear her reputation? Why had he turned up after so long?

      Someone needed to find out what was eating him, and shut him up—permanently.

      Annie closed the door and took off the chain, then let him in. “I have tea and coffee. And I’ve got some bottles of good wine if that’s what you’d like. Take your pick.”

      Making faces at her bad-tempered cat, he walked upstairs behind her and she showed him into an L-shaped living room overlooking the square. “This is really nice,” he said. The cat peered around to get another look at him. Her green-gold eyes crossed and she showed all of her teeth in a silent hiss.

      Max wriggled his nose and looked around. The place looked new, as in brand-new.

      “Ellie and Joe renovated the whole upstairs. They had what was the kitchen turned into a dining room. The kitchen—” she pointed right “—is where the master bedroom used to be, and they pushed through to the second apartment to make a really big bedroom, a second bedroom and a little office.”

      “So they got rid of the second apartment completely? You’ve probably got the biggest digs in town.” However, all that stood in the living room was a white couch that looked untouched, and a red lacquer chest placed in front as a coffee table. A white carpet showed shoe impressions from the front door to the kitchen and bedrooms. They bypassed the rest of the living room, and the empty dining room.

      “Are you looking for a bathroom?” Annie said.

      Way to go, Savage, gape around her home like you’re taking inventory. “No, thanks. You’ve got wonderful spaces to…”

      “Work with?” she said, filling in the words he’d managed not to say. Her smile would turn on lights—and other things. He ought to know. “I haven’t gotten around to furnishing the place. After all, I’ve only been here seven months. Gimme time.”

      He nodded, returning her smile. “Take all the time you want. These things can’t be rushed.” These polite conversations made him nervous because they meant the people involved were avoiding what they really wanted to say.

      Annie crossed her arms. Except for her breasts, she was fairly small but he liked what folded arms did for them. And he liked the way her white blouse fitted without a wrinkle, and her jeans didn’t have to cover many straight lines.

      Annie didn’t move a muscle. This wasn’t the first time a man had sized her up, but it was the first time Annie had been as aware of each spot where his attention landed.

      Max didn’t behave like this. Or he hadn’t before. Annie was used to his intense eyes and quiet way of considering what he wanted to say—and his open smile. They had kissed and hugged on parting, nothing more. They had never shared a sexually loaded moment like this and he had never tried for more intimacy.

      He was too sensitive to push for sex when he had to suspect she was upset.

      But it was on his mind. She could feel that, see that.

      Rather than the heat Annie expected, she turned cold, so cold she couldn’t feel her fingers, and the prickling that flooded into sensitive places was almost a wash of delicate pain.

      Almost a climax. Standing there, watching him watching her, Annie’s legs ached. The cold, dumbfounding stimulation pulsed and she longed to kneel. She wanted to tear off her clothes and pose before him until he dragged her down to him, stripping as he did so.

      “You work too hard.” His voice caught and he cleared his throat. When he looked at her face, his eyes were shadowy yet vulnerable. Guilty?

      Annie drew in a great breath, the one she’d forgotten to take, and Max’s gaze moved rapidly downward—and back. She saw him swallow hard.

      “I’ve never had my own place before,” said Annie. “In Pointe Judah I lived with my cousin, Eileen, and her son.”

      “But you lived in St. Martinville before that?”

      She struggled to calm down. If she opened a window there would be more air in the room, and she’d break this invisible field they had formed between them. Max wouldn’t be feeling what she did, Annie reminded herself. Or would he? Something was making his body react.

      “I didn’t tell you I lived there, did I?” she said.

      “Maybe you did.” He narrowed his eyes. “But it could be I got the impression you had when we were there today. When we drove in. It doesn’t matter.”

      But it did matter. “I grew up in St. Martinville.”

      “You don’t like it now?”

      “You’re only guessin’.” She had to avoid talking about details from the past. “You’re right though, I hate it now.” Not a word would she say about Bobby Colbert. She shuddered just thinking his name.

      “Are you okay?” Max asked.

      Annie nodded. Opening the window would be impossible. She couldn’t make her legs move, didn’t want to. And she didn’t want

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