like any good citizen, and raced back in to call the fire department. Then I raced downstairs to get your card and called you from the kitchen. Why I felt compelled to call you escapes me at the moment, but after we hung up I grabbed some jogging pants from the dryer and went out to wait for the fire truck.”
“And you saw the fire from the balcony?”
“I didn’t see fire,” she corrected impatiently. “Not that I remember anyway. Not at first. I saw smoke. Over the top of the magnolias. And I’m getting really tired of you trying to trip me up, Beau. I didn’t have to call you, but I did. For that, at the very least, I ought to get some brownie points and some slack.”
Without waiting for a response, she jerked open the doors and walked to the ornate railing that rimmed the upper story. The wooden planks beneath her feet were slightly damp from the cooling night air, but Maggie didn’t care. Any sensation that didn’t start with Beau Grayson was welcome. Then she realized his socks would absorb the moisture. “You better not come out here. It’s—”
“Too late.” He slipped noiselessly up beside her, standing too close.
His attention was focused on the field beyond. At the tops of the magnolias. He was judging her again, assessing the truth of her story. The scent of fire was still on the night but diluted by river breeze. His arms were locked, supporting him as he leaned outward into the darkness.
Finally, he made his pronouncement. “It’s possible.”
“Well, thank you, Chief Grayson! Gosh, I know I’ll sleep better tonight knowing that you believe me.”
“I didn’t say I believe you.” Rounding on her, he took her arm. “And if I were you, I wouldn’t be sleeping at all. I’d be working on a defense. Let’s get down to it, shall we? Do you know what the odds are of your finding two fires in such a short period of time, and both before they raged out of control?”
Something about him had changed since stepping out on the balcony. His eyes, she decided. In the moonlight they were a flat, dark sienna, devoid of the compassion that lent them warmth. She pulled away, rubbing her arm, glaring. “I don’t know the odds, and I don’t care. It happened. Deal with it. That’s your job.”
“Oh, I am dealing with it. With you.” His assurance slithered up her spine and raised the hairs on the back of her neck. The next soft question did little to allay her apprehension. “Do you always carefully close and lock the balcony doors behind you?”
“W-what?”
“The balcony doors. They were locked.”
A mental alarm flashed at the edge of her consciousness. “Your point?”
“I’m in the business of details, and that detail does not suggest panic. You said you rushed in to call the fire department. And me. If that’s true, when did you stop long enough to lock the doors?”
She hesitated, knowing how irrational she’d sound telling him she locked the doors because she thought it would make the fire go away. Instead she gave him what she hoped was a plausible lie. Unfortunately, she waited asecond too long. “After I changed. Before I went downstairs.”
“You grabbed a pair of jogging pants and changed downstairs. Try again.”
There was no mistaking the chill in his voice or the intent in his body language. He was waiting to pounce—anxious to spring the trap. Allowing her a second answer was just a formality. A game.
When she refused to play, he took her arm again, drawing her all the way to his chest. This time he was gentle, but the touch actually felt more dangerous than the one before. Their T-shirts didn’t offer much of a barrier to contact. Body heat seared her, and her head fell back to meet his gaze. That’s when she realized his anger was personal, that she’d somehow betrayed him without even trying. God help the woman who planned to betray him.
“Let me lay it out for you, Maggie. The way I see it. You liked the attention you got from the hospital fire,
“And you saw the fire from the balcony?”
“I didn’t see fire,” she corrected impatiently. “Not that I remember anyway. Not at first. I saw smoke. Over the top of the magnolias. And I’m getting really tired of you trying to trip me up, Beau. I didn’t have to call you, but I did. For that, at the very least, I ought to get some brownie points and some slack.”
Without waiting for a response, she jerked open the doors and walked to the ornate railing that rimmed the upper story. The wooden planks beneath her feet were slightly damp from the cooling night air, but Maggie didn’t care. Any sensation that didn’t start with Beau Grayson was welcome. Then she realized his socks would absorb the moisture. “You better not come out here. It’s—”
“Too late.” He slipped noiselessly up beside her, standing too close.
His attention was focused on the field beyond. At the tops of the magnolias. He was judging her again, assessing the truth of her story. The scent of fire was still on the night but diluted by river breeze. His arms were locked, supporting him as he leaned outward into the darkness.
Finally, he made his pronouncement. “It’s possible.”
“Well, thank you, Chief Grayson! Gosh, I know I’ll sleep better tonight knowing that you believe me.”
“I didn’t say I believe you.” Rounding on her, he took her arm. “And if I were you, I wouldn’t be sleeping at all. I’d be working on a defense. Let’s get down to it, shall we? Do you know what the odds are of your finding two fires in such a short period of time, and both before they raged out of control?”
Something about him had changed since stepping out on the balcony. His eyes, she decided. In the moonlight they were a flat, dark sienna, devoid of the compassion that lent them warmth. She pulled away, rubbing her arm, glaring. “I don’t know the odds, and I don’t care. It happened. Deal with it. That’s your job.”
“Oh, I am dealing with it. With you.” His assurance slithered up her spine and raised the hairs on the back of her neck. The next soft question did little to allay her apprehension. “Do you always carefully close and lock the balcony doors behind you?”
“W-what?”
“The balcony doors. They were locked.”
A mental alarm flashed at the edge of her consciousness. “Your point?”
“I’m in the business of details, and that detail does not suggest panic. You said you rushed in to call the fire department. And me. If that’s true, when did you stop long enough to lock the doors?”
She hesitated, knowing how irrational she’d sound telling him she locked the doors because she thought it would make the fire go away. Instead she gave him what she hoped was a plausible lie. Unfortunately, she waited asecond too long. “After I changed. Before I went downstairs.”
“You grabbed a pair of jogging pants and changed downstairs. Try again.”
There was no mistaking the chill in his voice or the intent in his body language. He was waiting to pounce—anxious to spring the trap. Allowing her a second answer was just a formality. A game.
When she refused to play, he took her arm again, drawing her all the way to his chest. This time he was gentle, but the touch actually felt more dangerous than the one before. Their T-shirts didn’t offer much of a barrier to contact. Body heat seared her, and her head fell back to meet his gaze. That’s when she realized his anger was personal, that she’d somehow betrayed him without even trying. God help the woman who planned to betray him.
“Let me lay it out for you, Maggie. The way I see it. You liked the attention you got from the hospital fire,
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