attack. “Are you pregnant, Katrin? We didn’t use anything that second time.”
“No. I’m not.”
His chest tight with a mixture of emotions he couldn’t possibly have sorted out, although relief and a sharp regret were certainly among them, Luke marched into the kitchen. Which did indeed look perfect and soulless. “Let’s eat…I thought we’d go out on the balcony.”
He reached into the refrigerator. “The salads can go on plates from the cupboard over the sink. I’ll heat up the chicken and the garlic bread.”
The kitchen was large. But as he took out a platter for the chicken, he bumped into Katrin as she turned to ask him something. The platter landed on the counter. He put his arms around her and kissed her with a blatant and smoldering sensuality that, after the briefest of hesitations, she more than matched. His body on fire with need, he found her breast under her pink shirt, its warmth and weight so well remembered, so greatly desired.
She yanked her head free and struck at his hand. “Don’t, Luke! We can’t do this.”
“Why not? We both want to,” he said with infallible logic.
“We agreed we wouldn’t.”
“Agreements can be renegotiated.”
“I can’t take this anymore,” she said incoherently, “it’s all too much!”
Remembering with compunction the reason she was here, Luke said slowly, “You’re right on the edge, aren’t you?”
“You got that right. Don’t you see? I made the biggest mistake of my life when I married Donald. Who was a very rich man. And now here I am back in the same city involved with another rich man.”
“I don’t do shady deals,” Luke grated. “And I’m not asking you to marry me.”
“How true…you’re not, are you?” she said in a peculiar voice. “I’ll be here three days…so are you suggesting we have three successive one-night stands? Is that it?”
“That sounds so damn crude!”
“I call it like I see it.”
Her cheeks were now as pink as her shirt; but there was real desperation in her blue eyes. Luke said carefully, “Look, you’ve got a heavy-duty day ahead of you tomorrow, Katrin. Why don’t we call a truce? At least until you’re done with the police and the fancy lawyers.”
“And then we’ll pick up where we left off?” she snorted.
“Why not?” He grinned at her. “It was a very nice kiss.”
“I could think of several words to describe that kiss. Nice isn’t one of them.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
Hands on her hips, she glowered at him. “You’re one heck of an infuriating man, Luke MacRae…do you have a middle name, by the way?”
“Where I come from, they didn’t go in for middle names,” Luke muttered; then could have bitten off his tongue.
“And if I were to ask you where that was, you’d shut up tighter than the proverbial clam.”
He raked his fingers through his sweat-damp hair. “Supper. On the balcony. Isn’t that what we came out here for?”
She grabbed a white dish towel from the rack, waving it in front of him. “And the truce—don’t forget the truce.”
He suddenly started to laugh. “You won’t let me.”
Her lips curved in an answering smile. “You’re getting the picture. What kind of chicken did you buy?”
Fifteen minutes later they were seated on teak chairs amidst the tangle of vines and flowering shrubs on the balcony; the bay and the distant hills were topped by a pearl-gray evening sky. Luke filled Katrin’s wineglass with a California Chardonnay. “To better days,” he said.
“I’ll drink to that.” She tore off a chunk of hot garlic bread, licked her fingers and said with a sigh, “I feel much better. Let’s talk about movies and Paris and whether you’re afraid of snakes.”
“It’s spiders that do me in,” he said solemnly, and obligingly asked her what movies she’d seen lately, buried as she was in Askja. One thing led to another, until Luke found himself telling her stories about some of his jaunts into mines ranging from the Arctic to the tropics. Her questions were intelligent, her interest genuine: encouraged, he talked far longer than was his custom, revealing more of himself than he’d intended. Peeling her a ripe peach, he said, “You’re a good listener.”
“I’ve learned more about you in the last hour than since we met.” She licked peach juice from her fingers. “With the exception of when we were in bed.”
His knife skidded dangerously close to the ball of his thumb. “And what did you learn about me there?”
“How closely you guard yourself and your secrets,” Katrin said. “How passionate you can be, when you allow those barriers to drop.”
“Did I have a choice?” Luke heard himself ask; then added in true fury, “I thought we’d set up a truce.”
“Why did you leave in the middle of the night?” she said for the second time, a dangerous glint in her eye.
“You’re as bad as those reporters!”
“No, I’m not—because I care about the answer,” she retorted. “Don’t you see? You give me a glimpse of the real man, and then you run like crazy in the opposite direction…why, Luke?”
He pushed back his chair, his shoulders rigid. “I’m going to put some coffee on…can I get you more wine?”
“You’re doing it again!”
“You have a choice here, Katrin,” he said, each word dropping like a stone. “Take me as I am. Or back off.”
“That’s not a choice. It’s an ultimatum. And you know it.”
“It’s all you’re being offered.”
“No coffee. No wine,” she said, her eyes almost black in the dusk. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
But as she marched around a tall potted cactus, Luke took her by the waist, pulled her toward him and kissed her with an explosive mixture of desire and fury. Before she could respond, he pushed her away. “Sleep well,” he said. “I’ll drive you to the police station in the morning.”
“No, you won’t—I’ll get a cab.”
“You will not.”
“I hate domineering men!”
“I’m just being a good host,” he said smoothly. “Good night, Katrin.”
She whirled, slid open the glass doors and vanished inside the house. Luke drained
