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 his wineglass, gazing out over the brilliant lights of the city and the slick, dark waters of the bay. Whether he went to bed with Katrin or not, he was getting in deeper merely by being within ten feet of her.
Why had he invited her here? This house, even though he no longer liked it, was still his sanctuary, where he could drop his public persona and simply be himself. Be as private as he liked. Why hadn’t he listened to Ramon? San Francisco’s a big city, the burly policeman had said…you don’t have to see her.
The mood he was in, the reporters had better keep their distance tomorrow.
When Luke picked Katrin up at the front entrance of the police station late the following afternoon, the reporters were clustered around the side door. She got in quickly, and Luke drove away. She was wearing her lime-green suit without the hat, her hair in a loose knot. She said faintly, “Ramon let the word slip I’d be going out the side door. And they fell for it.”
Luke eased into the flow of traffic. “How did it go?”
“I’m finished. I can go home.”
His palms were suddenly cold on the wheel. He wasn’t ready for her to leave. Not yet. “There’s a big charity ball tonight at one of the hotels on Nob Hill, I’ve had the tickets for a couple of weeks. I think we should go.”
She sat up straight. “Are you out of your mind? The last thing I want to do is go out in public.”
“Ashamed of me, Katrin?”
“Don’t be obtuse! After the spread in today’s papers, you think I should go to a function full of people I met years ago, with a man the media are insinuating is my lover?”
The newspapers had certainly gone to town; the photo of his furious face as he’d tried to shield a beautiful woman in a wide-brimmed hat had made the front pages. No one at his office had mentioned it, they’d known better; but all day there’d been a tendency for silence to fall as soon as he entered a room. Luke said forcibly, “You’ve done nothing wrong, nothing to be ashamed of. Why should you leave here under a cloud? Blazon it out, that’s the only way to go.”
“You’re nuts.”
“We’re going to Union Square to buy you an evening gown. You can fly home tomorrow.”
“You’re also autocratic, overbearing and tyrannical!”
“I’m a very good dancer as well,” he said, stopping for a red light and smiling at her. “Do you like to dance?”
She scowled at him. “I love to. Add conceited.”
“We can trade insults while the band’s taking its breaks.”
“Have I just been coerced into doing something that I know I shouldn’t?”
He swung around a corner, then sneaked another glance at her. “Yep.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What’s in this for you, Luke? A new twist? Something to relieve the tedium of your life?”
He said flatly, “I can’t answer that. Because I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, that’s honest at least.”
“Do we have to analyze everything we do?”
“If I’m analyzing, it’s called self-protection,” Katrin said vigorously. “I’m not sure you’re aware of the effect you have just by entering a room. Every woman between puberty and senility stares at you as if you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Regrettably, I have to include myself among them.”
Heat crept up his neck. “Shove it, Katrin.”
“I’m telling the truth! You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Wishing he could gun the car, but forced to crawl at five miles an hour because of the traffic, Luke muttered, “You’re exaggerating and you know it.”
“I am not. Anyway, to get back to this charity ball—I can’t afford an evening gown. I’m saving to go to law school.”
“It’s a present. From me.” He took a deep breath, quelled the panic in his gut, and added, “To say I’m sorry I left in the middle of the night.”
To his dismay the light at the next intersection turned orange. He pulled up behind an SUV. Katrin said quietly, “For the third time, Luke, why did you leave?”
“Because I was afraid to stay.”
“Afraid?”
“That’s what I said.” For Pete’s sake, he thought, fuming, why couldn’t the light change?
“Afraid of me?”
“Afraid of what you do to me,” he said shortly.
In a small voice she said, “I thought you didn’t like making love to me, and that’s why you left.”
His jaw dropped. “Didn’t like it? Are you serious?”
The driver behind him blasted on the horn. The light was green; Luke pressed hard on the accelerator. Katrin said crossly, “What else was I supposed to think? I figured I was—despite my marriage, or perhaps because of it—too inexperienced for you. Too gauche. Too unsophisticated.”
She couldn’t have been further from the truth. “I ran away because I hate losing control,” he said harshly.
Her fingers slowly relaxed in her lap. “So I’ve noticed.”
“You notice too much,” Luke announced. “I don’t know what it is about you, but I’ve told you more in the last month than I’ve ever told Ramon, whom I’ve known for years.”
“It’s my big blue eyes,” she said pertly.
He pulled into a parking garage north of the square, his mouth set. “You’re going to buy a gorgeous dress and anything else you need to go with it. Money is no object and don’t argue.”
“No, sir,” she said in a perfect imitation of her waitressing voice.
Luke started to laugh, his ill humor dissolving. “I’m beginning to think I led a very boring life until you came along.”
They left the car and walked south, the clang
