can explain this item in the newspaper.” He shook out a copy of the U.S. Eye, already turned to the page he wanted, and read: “‘We hear that the scrumptious Sharlayne Kenyon is holed up in her new Beverly Hills digs with a bad case of laryngitis. Fortunately for her, she’s also holed up with a new main squeeze, a mystery man with the physique of a…”’ Here Jed’s voice dripped with scorn. “‘Of a’…well, let that go. Either of you care to explain this item?”
Alice turned to Tabitha, incapable of making any plausible explanation. Fortunately, Tabitha was equal to the task.
“That’s what we call a planted item,” she said calmly. “We want to keep people away from Sharlayne. That will help us do it. If she’s sick and being attended by a new boyfriend, no one will expect to see her out and about. This sort of thing is done all the time.”
Jed’s taut expression didn’t relax. “Lying’s a way of life, huh? Do me a favor and leave me out of any future flights of fancy.” He pivoted, disgust in every line of his body, and stalked out of the room.
ALICE DIDN’T SEE Jed again that night before retiring to her suite. Restless, she prowled through the beautiful rooms, turning the television on and off a half-dozen times. For a while, she sat on her balcony, which overlooked the glistening swimming pool below, and wondered why she felt as edgy as a criminal anticipating the long arm of the law.
Finally, she decided that what she needed was a snack. In Sharlayne’s small refrigerator behind the wet bar, she found soda, bottled water, three candy bars—bad Sharlayne!—and a small bunch of shriveled green grapes.
She threw the grapes and the candy bars away. What she wanted was…
Yogurt, she decided. Surely there must be some in the kitchen.
If she could find the kitchen.
It took a while, since she really didn’t know the huge house all that well. At last she recognized the hall that led to the “working” areas: kitchen, laundry room, pantries and so forth. Poised with her hand on what she felt confident was the kitchen door, she realized belatedly that there was light spilling underneath. Pushing open the door, she stopped short.
And stared.
Jed stood in front of the huge industrial refrigerator, his back to her. His bare back: he wore nothing but a pair of jeans. No shoes, no shirt, no kiddin’. The sleek lines of his well-muscled back caused her eyes to widen even more.
At her soft gasp, he turned to face her.
She said, “Oh, it’s you. You scared me.”
“Sorry.” He closed the refrigerator door without taking anything out. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get back to my room.”
“Didn’t you come here looking for something to eat? Don’t leave until you’ve found what you want.” She moved farther into the room.
He said, “Bad idea.”
“No, really, it’s all right. I’m looking for a carton of yogurt myself.” She brushed past him to open the refrigerator.
“It’s not all right,” he said. “I’ll go.”
“I say it’s all right and I’m in charge here.” She darted him an annoyed glance but couldn’t help adding, “Why isn’t it all right?”
“Because you’re nearly naked, Ms. Kenyon. I’m here to protect your person and your reputation, not compromise either. Or both.”
Caught flatfooted, she glanced down at herself.
She was wearing a diaphanous shorty nightgown and matching negligee, if you could call it that, since it left nearly nothing to the imagination. She’d put it on hours ago because it was the most modest thing in the drawer.
But even as mortification heated her cheeks, she reminded herself that Alice Wynn had no reason to be embarrassed by anything Sharlayne Kenyon might do. Watching him over her shoulder, she said, “Don’t be a prude, Jed—and don’t call me Ms. Kenyon. My n-name is Sharlayne.”
He didn’t appear to notice her stutter. “I know your name, Ms. Kenyon.” He cocked his head and gazed at her, fists planted on his hips just above the low-slung waist band of his jeans. “It occurs to me that this is as good a time as any to get a couple of things straight.”
“Do tell?” she purred.
“There’s a rule at my agency, which I intend to honor.”
“Rules are often made to be broken.” By Sharlayne, not by Alice, who always followed the rules. Maybe it was time to change that.
“Not this one. It goes, Thou shalt not get involved with thy client. You’re my client. That’s it. You can’t be my friend or my…anything of a personal nature. It’s not that I want to seem unfriendly, but…” He was stumbling around, not nearly as decisive as he’d been earlier.
“That’s ridiculous.” Alice laughed lightly. “We can’t live across the hall from each other day after day and not be…something.” She put all kinds of subtext in that last word.
He was squirming, really uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. “Yeah,” he insisted doggedly, “we can. We will. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“I won’t.” She couldn’t believe she’d said that, and with Sharlayne’s familiar petulance. She softened her refusal with a smile. “We’re both hungry. Stay and have a snack with me.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“Look, here’s the chicken we had for dinner tonight. Have a sandwich.”
“I don’t think that’s a good—”
“Jed,” she teased, “you’re supposed to be guarding me. You can’t spend the next month running out of the room every time I walk into it. Am I that scary?”
His face was stone. “You think you scare me?”
She shrugged, the negligee sliding artfully off one shoulder. “Something’s scaring you. I’m the only other person in the room.”
“Give me that chicken.” He took it from her hands. “You’ve totally misunderstood my position—deliberately, maybe. Whatever. If you want to run around half-naked, that’s your business. I’m just here to do a job.”
“I see.” She looked around, located a bread box and pulled out a home baked loaf. “You really are a prude, Jed. I’m covered. Hey, in the old days Greta Garbo used to wander through her garden totally nude.”
He paused, a carving knife poised over the chicken. “Great who?”
She laughed incredulously. “Not a big movie fan, I see.”
“Only of gratuitous violence and car chases.” He sliced easily and precisely through the tender chicken. “Like some of this?”
“I shouldn’t.” But she did. Suddenly, the thought of yogurt was not very appealing.
“Suit
