Claimed by Jaymie Holland Page B

it. Not a word.”
    He followed her as she went to the front door
and picked up her purse from where she’d left it. “Don’t go,” he
said. “We’ll work this out.”
    She grabbed the doorknob and gave him one
last look. “I need time alone. Don’t call me. Don’t stop by my
house.”
    “Let me give you a ride home.” Concern was
clear in his voice.
    “I don’t need a ride.” She stuck her hand in
her bag and jerked out her cell phone. “I’ll get a cab.”
    “Don’t leave like this, Leslie.” He followed
her down the steps. A part of her realized he was in his boxers and
T-shirt. “Please don’t leave like this.”
    She turned her back on him and pulled up the
phone number to call a taxi, pressed send, and held the phone up to
her ear. She gave the address of a store down the street to the
dispatcher and she started walking.
    Rick called after her one last time and she
could feel his gaze on her.
    She never looked back.
     
     
    Leslie climbed up the stairs to her home. It
had been an exhausting day at work with spoiled models and one
emergency after another. A broken nail, a five-pound weight gain, a
missing collection, an injured runway model with a limp, and
preparation for tomorrow afternoon for a big show in New York City,
made for one hell of a day. She’d have to fly from Baltimore into
JFK tomorrow and she wasn’t really in the mood for a fashion
show.
    For the past two weeks Rick had called, left
voice mails, sent emails, and sent her text messages. At first she
listened to his voice mails and read the messages, but then she
couldn’t take it any longer. Her heart hurt far too much to open it
up to any more pain. Look where it had gotten her.
    He hadn’t taken the hint. He wouldn’t give
up.
    She rubbed her temples as she entered her
home and let the door slam shut with a hard thump behind her. She
dropped her purse beside the door and faced her living room, and
came to a complete halt.
    A vase was on her coffee table and it was
filled with a huge bouquet of colorful flowers.
    A vase that hadn’t been there before.
    Someone had been in her house.
    She took a step back. Her spine prickled.
Someone was behind her. She started to scream when a hand clamped
over her mouth and a strong arm pinned her up against a hard
body.
    Terror ripped through her.
    “It’s me, Leslie.” Rick’s voice made her sag
in relief. At the same time she wanted to kill him for scaring her.
“I’m not taking my hand off of your mouth unless you agree to shut
up and listen. Nod if you understand.”
    She was tempted to bite his finger but she
nodded.
    He moved his hand away and took her by the
shoulders and turned her around. He looked so good she wanted him
to hold her close. She wanted him to kiss her. But she couldn’t let
herself allow that.
    “I want to shake some sense into you.” He
gripped her shoulders tighter. “But let’s start with dinner before
the manhandling begins.”
    A feeling of excitement rose up inside of
her. Rick was here. Here. She would have smiled if her heart
wasn’t aching in her chest. She tamped down her excitement. “It’s
been a long day. I’m sorry but I really am not in the mood for
dinner out.”
    “Then we’ll order in.” He pulled his cell
phone out of the holster on his belt. “Why don’t you get out of
your work clothes and get into something more comfortable.”
    “And a quick, hot shower.” She rolled her
shoulder as she spoke. It didn’t look like he was going to leave
and she needed to clear her head before they talked.
    Thirty minutes later, she caught the rich
smells of Italian food when she walked out of her bedroom and down
the staircase. Pasta with red sauce and warm garlic bread.
    Her entire body hummed with awareness of him
as they put the rigatoni, bread, and salad on the table, along with
a bottle of merlot. She was hungry but didn’t feel a lot like
eating. For a little while it was quiet between them as she made
herself eat. The wine went