can’t claim any credit. A Realtor found it for me. Let’s sit down.” He motioned to the sofa.
She sat at one end of the leather couch; he settled at the other end, close enough that she could see the pulse beat at the base of his throat. She had a sudden memory of the feel of his body on hers, a heavy shield from danger.
“I’m sorry if I came across a little gruff earlier,” he said. “I’m used to giving orders all day, and when I see a problem, my natural approach is to try to fix it.”
“Except sometimes it’s not your problem to fix.” She sipped the wine and watched him over the rim of the glass. The apology had surprised her. She admired a man who could admit when he was wrong.
“Since I was with you when those shots were fired, my instinct has been to protect you. Call it sexist if you want, but that’s how I feel.”
“I’ve gotten used to looking after myself,” she said. “But I appreciate everything you’ve done. If I’d been alone, I’m not sure I would have reacted so quickly to those shots.” She shuddered, and set aside the glass.
“Hey, you did great.” He set aside his own glass and slid over to her. “You kept your cool under pressure. That’s one of the things I admire about you.”
“Oh.” Her eyes met his. “What else do you admire about me?”
“Would you think I was superficial if I said you have a beautiful body?” He caressed the side of her neck and brushed his lips across her cheek.
“Superficial can be good.” She turned her head and he covered her lips with his own. The kiss was hot and insistent. So much for holding back on their mutual attraction.
She slipped her arms around him and pressed against him, deepening the kiss. His body was big and powerful, and the need she sensed in him made her feel powerful, too. Maybe this was just what she needed, this physical distraction...
The strains of an Adele song jangled in the evening stillness. Graham raised his head and looked around. “My phone,” she said, and reached for her purse.
Unknown number flashed on the screen, and she clicked the icon to answer, prepared to give a phone solicitor a piece of her mind. “Hello?”
“You need to stop now, before you get hurt,” said a flat, accentless male voice.
“What are you talking about? Who is this?”
“If I’d wanted to kill you this evening, I would have,” the voice said. “Next time, I won’t miss.”
The line went dead. Emma stared at the phone.
Graham took the device from her hand and set it aside. “I heard,” he said. “Who has access to this number?”
“Lots of people,” she said. “I mean, it’s not listed, but it’s on my business cards. People at the Post have it. Friends. Business contacts.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, suddenly cold. “Maybe this is just a prank. Somebody trying to unsettle me.” She gave a shaky laugh, perilously close to hysterical tears. “And they’re doing a good job of it.”
Graham stood and pulled out his own phone. “I’ll have someone trace the call, though I doubt it will do much good. It was probably made from a throwaway.” His eyes met hers, and the hard look she found there frightened her all over again. “This isn’t a joke, Emma,” he said. “I think you’re in real danger.”
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