.

       Five

      It took courage for Carol to drive to Steve’s apartment. Someone should award medals for this brand of lionheartedness, she murmured to herself—although she was more interested in playing the role of a tigress than a lion. If this second venture was anything like the first, Steve wouldn’t know what hit him. At least, she hoped he wouldn’t guess.

      She straightened her shoulders, pinched some color into her cheeks and pasted on a smile. Then she rang the doorbell.

      To say Steve looked surprised to see her when he opened the door would be an understatement, Carol acknowledged. His eyes rounded, his mouth relaxed and fell open, and for a moment he was utterly speechless. “Carol?”

      “I suppose I should have phoned first …”

      “No, come in.” He stepped aside so that she could enter the apartment.

      Beyond his obvious astonishment, Carol found it difficult to read Steve’s reaction. She stepped inside gingerly, praying that her plastic smile wouldn’t crack. The first thing she noticed was the large picture window in the living room, offering an unobstructed view of the Seattle waterfront. It made Elliott Bay seem close, so vivid that she could almost smell the seaweed and feel the salty spray in the air. A large green-and-white ferry boat plowed its way through the dark waters, enhancing the picture.

      “Oh … this is nice.” Carol turned around to face him. “Have you lived here long?”

      He nodded. “Rush had the apartment first. I moved in after you and I split and sort of inherited it when Rush and Lindy moved into their own place recently.”

      The last thing Carol wanted to remind him of was their divorce, and she quickly steered the conversation to the reason for her visit. “I found something I thought might be yours,” she said hurriedly, fumbling with the snap of her eel-skin purse to bring out the button. It was a weak excuse, but she was desperate. Retrieving the small gray button from inside her coin purse, she handed it over to him.

      Steve’s brow pleated into a frown and he stiffened. “No … this isn’t mine. It must belong to another man,” he said coldly.

      A bad move, Carol realized, taking back the button. “There’s only been one man at my house, and that’s you,” she said, trying to stay calm. “If it isn’t yours, then it must have fallen off something of my own.”

      Hands in his pockets, Steve nodded.

      An uneasy pause followed.

      Steve didn’t suggest she take off her coat, didn’t offer her any refreshment or any excuse to linger. Feeling crestfallen and defeated, Carol knew there was nothing more to do but leave.

      “Well, I suppose I should think about getting myself some dinner. There’s a new Mexican restaurant close to here I thought I might try,” she said with feigned enthusiasm, and glanced up at him through thick lashes. Steve loved enchiladas, and she prayed he would take the bait. God knew, she couldn’t have been any more obvious had she issued the invitation straight out.

      “I ate earlier,” he announced starkly.

      Steve rarely had dinner before six. He was either wise to her ways or lying.

      “I see.” She took a step toward the exit, wondering what else she could do to delay the inevitable. “When does the Atlantis leave?”

      “Monday.”

      Three days. She had only three days to carry out her plan. Three days to get him into bed and convince him it was all his idea. Three miserable days. Her fingers curled into impotent fists of frustration inside her coat pocket.

      “Have a safe trip, Steve,” she said softly. “I’ll … I’ll be thinking of you.”

      It had been a mistake to come to his place, a mistake not to have plotted the evening more carefully. It was apparent from the stiff way Steve treated her, he couldn’t wait to get her out of his apartment. Since it was Friday night, he might have a date. The thought of Steve with another woman produced a gut-wrenching pain that she did her best to ignore. Dropping by unexpectedly like this wasn’t helping her cause.

      She’d hoped they could make love tonight. Her temperature was elevated and she was as fertile as she was going to get this month.

      Swallowing her considerable pride, she paused, her hand on the door handle. “There’s a new spy thriller showing at the Fifth Avenue Theater…. You always used to like espionage films.”

      Steve’s eyes narrowed as he studied her. It was difficult for Carol to meet his heated gaze and not wilt from sheer nerves. She was sure her cheeks were hot pink. Coming to his apartment was the most difficult thing she’d done in years. Her heart felt as if it was going to hammer its way right out of her chest, and her fingers were shaking so badly that she didn’t dare remove them from her pockets.

      “Why are you here?” His question was soft, suspicious, uncertain.

      “I found the button.” One glance told her he didn’t believe her, as well he shouldn’t. That excuse was so weak it wouldn’t carry feathers.

      “What is it you really want, Carol?”

      “I … I …” Her voice trembled from her lips, and her heart, which had been pounding so furiously a second before, seemed to stop completely. She swallowed and forced her gaze to meet his before dropping it. When she finally managed to speak, her voice was low and meaningful. “I thought with you going away….” Good grief, woman, her mind shouted, quit playing games. Give him the truth.

      She raised her chin, and her gaze locked with his. “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

      Steve went stock-still, holding his jaw tight and hard. The inner conflict that played over his face was as vivid as the picturesque scene she’d viewed from his living-room window. The few feet of distance between them seemed to stretch wider than a mile.

      It felt as if an eternity passed as Carol waited for his reaction, and she felt paralyzed with misgivings. She’d exposed her hand and left her pride completely vulnerable to him.

      She saw it then—a flicker of his eyes, a movement in the line of his jaw, a softening in his tightly controlled facial features. He wanted her, too—wanted her with a desperation that made him as weak as she was. Her heart leaped wildly with joy.

      Steve lifted his hand and held it out to her, and Carol thought she would collapse with relief as she hurried toward him. He crushed her in his arms and his mouth hungrily came down on hers. His eager lips smothered her cry of happiness. Equally greedy, Carol returned his kiss, reveling in his

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