Fearless Maverick by Robyn Grady Page B

           AFTER
a very unsettling day that had started in the most unsettling way, Libby let
herself into her apartment. Dropping everything, she filled the tub, peeled off
her clothes, then sank into the wonderful warm suds. Her head resting against a
vinyl pillow, she closed her eyes and sighed. She felt drained. Confused.
                 What
was she supposed to do now?
                 This
morning, despite her best efforts to avoid another incident, Alex had kissed
her soundly again, and for a second time she’d kissed him back. Even now her
cheeks burned remembering how easily she’d succumbed. Worse, despite ultimately
turning her back and walking away, a silly self-destructive part of her couldn’t
help but wish he would take her in his arms again. One dose of Alex Wolfe had
been bad enough. Now that she’d tasted him twice, she was in grave danger of
becoming addicted.
                 After
Scott, she’d let herself get close to only one man. Leo Tamms had gone to her
university, majored in civil engineering and had asked her out three times. She
thought they’d got on well. On their last date, they’d even kissed goodnight.
One day in the cafeteria he’d asked why she walked with a limp—she hadn’t
perfected her gait back then. In his eyes she could see Leo suspected anyway,
so she’d garnered her strength and told him her story. Leo had seemed
interested, sympathetic, but he hadn’t asked her out again. In fact, whenever
he saw her coming, he slipped a one-eighty and streaked the other way.
                 That
episode had hurt almost as much as Scott’s rejection. It confirmed the doubt
that had lurked at the back of her mind since the accident—that many people
were shallow enough to judge others by their wrapping rather than what they
really offered, which was underneath. Was Alex Wolfe one of those people?
                 Twenty
minutes later, feeling more relaxed, Libby dried off. Tying the ribbon sash of
her floor-length negligee, she moved into the kitchen, opened the fridge and
eyed some leftover chicken stir-fry. But her appetite had been MIA all day. Her
stomach was too full of butterflies with her wondering what would come next in
this ill-fated game Alex seemed intent on playing. So she poured a glass of
milk to line her stomach and, sipping, crossed into the living room.
                 She
could work on that speech, she supposed, or put on a movie, read a book. Or sit
here all night wishing life weren’t so complicated. She’d been content before
Alex Wolfe had inserted himself into her life. She’d been at peace with herself
and what she’d accomplished. Now it seemed she was weighed down with questions.
Sometimes, like at lunch yesterday, she could almost convince herself that Alex
was sincerely interested in her. But common sense said he was far more
interested in how he could use her … what she could give: a free pass to China.
                 When
the building entrance buzzer sounded, Libby stiffened. But then she siphoned
down some air and got a grip. Her imagination would be the death of her. Of
course it wasn’t Alex Wolfe buzzing. It was a friend dropped by. Or a delivery
of some kind.
                 Chiding
herself, she headed for the intercom, thumbed a button and said hello. The
voice that resonated back was deep and hauntingly familiar.
                 ‘I
hoped I’d find you home.’
                 Libby
held her stomach as her midsection double clutched and a lump of anxiety lodged
in her throat. She took one shaky step back and clapped shut her hanging jaw.
Then she got her thoughts and courage together and, resolute, leaned toward the
speaker.
                 ‘What
are you doing here?’
                 ‘I
brought you something.’
                 She
frowned. Brought her what exactly? But she didn’t want to know. He needed