knock on the door made her freeze. Her heart seemed to rattle in her chest. She clutched her robe at her throat. “Who is it?”
“Daniel.”
She opened the door. Smiling, he hoisted the tray he carried. He’d showered and changed his clothing, looking none the worse for their ordeal. A leather carryall was slung over his shoulder. Glad for a friendly face, she invited him inside.
“Your sister made us some food. Sandwiches, salad. Chocolate cake.” He winked. “Bourbon. I could use a drink. How about you?”
She usually didn’t drink more than an occasional glass of wine. At the moment she wouldn’t overly object to getting good and sloshy drunk. “How are you?”
“Still tasting smoke, but I’m okay.” He dropped the bag on the floor, set the tray on a table and poured generous quantities of bourbon into a pair of crystal tumblers. “Take it neat, tough girl?”
“Not that tough. Ice and water, please.” She fiddled with the neckline of her robe. Made of heavy satin it covered her from neck to toes, but she was all too aware of her nakedness underneath. Her skin was still warm and damp from the long shower she’d taken, and the fabric clung to her hips. She watched his hands while he mixed the drinks and uncovered the food and snapped out linen napkins.
He’d saved her life. He’d risked having the roof fall on his head while making sure she’d gotten out of the garage first. Her throat choked up.
He handed her a drink. “Nice room. Looks like you.”
She wondered what he meant by that. Years as an army brat had turned her into a minimalist as far as possessions were concerned. She had little interest in knickknacks. The room was rather plain, with mauve-painted walls enlivened by framed fine-art prints. The furniture was functional; her only concessions to luxury were the designer linens on the bed. She caught him peering at a stack of paperback novels. She loved sexy historical romances, gory horror stories and trashy Hollywood glitzy sagas. His interest discomfited her.
She sipped the bourbon and water. The alcohol burned her throat, but warmed her belly. He was the first man, other than a relative, who’d ever been inside her private room.
A man who’d risked his life to save hers. “I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
She picked up a sandwich. It was too late to eat, but her stomach gurgled indelicately. “Back in the garage. When I fired you.”
“I’m fired?” His sunny good humor teased a smile from her.
She should fire him. He was obnoxious...he’d saved her life. “I don’t appreciate men making passes at me. Especially when I have a job to do.”
He regarded her. “I stepped out of line.”
“You did.”
“Can I plead temporary insanity?”
She bit into the sandwich before he caught her smiling.
“Sorry about your head.” His fingertips grazed the bandage. Even that light touch made her wince. “I didn’t have time to check for nails.”
“I’m thankful you figured out how to get us out. I was starting to panic. I never would have thought of breaking through the wall.”
“Breaking boards is my specialty.” He flashed a cocky grin. “It drives the chicks wild.”
A laugh burst free before she could stop it. She quickly gained control. “Sit down and eat.”
“How did the cops do with the interviews?”
Good humor fled. “The sheriff doesn’t believe me about Pinky. He acted as if I’m deliberately concealing Pinky’s identity. Or that it’s somehow my fault the garage burned down.”
“Humph. I should have warned you. Cops have a bad habit of forgetting who the victim is. Did I tell you my stalker had me arrested?”
“You mentioned it.” Appetite gone, she set the sandwich on the plate. She eyed her drink, seriously considering the oblivion alcohol offered.
“Buck up. We’ll catch him. He’ll get tagged with attempted murder and arson.”
She didn’t see how. Nobody claimed to have seen anyone hanging around the garage before the fire. Nobody confessed to setting the blaze. Anger washed through her. “I gave Pinky’s letters and cards to the sheriff. He probably thinks they’re cute. Like mash notes from a teenager.”
He chewed thoughtfully on a steak and cheese sandwich. He toyed with a pickle spear. “One good thing. Pinky isn’t worried about your father anymore. My plan is working out great.”
“I am so relieved,” she said dryly. The fire today was going to seem like a picnic compared to how the colonel was going to react when he found out she’d been concealing her problem with Pinky. “What if he decides to set the lodge on fire?”
He ate half the sandwich before he wiped his mouth with a napkin and replied. “I doubt it. Yeah, he lost it at the garage, but there was a lot of temptation. Gas cans sitting around. You and me alone in a private place. I have a feeling he reacted before he realized he could hurt you.”
The door drew her gaze. As a precaution the sheriff had assigned a deputy to patrol the resort. She wished for an occupying army. “What if he knows you’re in here right now?”
“No gas cans sitting in the hallway.”
“Don’t be flippant. He tried to murder us.”
He reached across the small table and placed a hand over hers. Her breath caught in her throat. When he joked around and acted like a chauvinistic clown, she found him easy to dismiss as just another conceited, too-big-for-his-britches playboy. With his eyes gazing steadily into hers he appeared somehow dangerous. And sexy. Her belly did a little flip-flop.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, Janine.” He squeezed her fingers.
“Who will make sure nothing happens to you?”
His smile caught her off guard. “Why, cupcake, I do believe you care.” Chuckling, he returned his attention to the food. “Don’t you worry about me.”
It bothered her deeply that she was doing exactly that. “In any case, you’ve done your job. I thank you with all my heart. But it is time for you to leave.”
“I haven’t finished my sandwich.”
“I was thinking about in the morning.”
He made a dismissive sound. “I thought I wasn’t fired.”
“The police are involved now. They’ll find Pinky. It’s too dangerous for you to stay here.”
“If Pinky runs me off, then he’ll get the idea that violence is the answer to his problems.”
“He wouldn’t dare.”
“Don’t count on it. Since
