Snowfall by Sharon Sala Page A

you’re feeling better?”
    She smiled. “I’m fine. How’s that new grandson?” She was picturing the security guard’s smile as she asked.
    “He’s just great, and thanks for asking.”
    Mac walked into the room behind her as she was hanging up the phone.
    “Who was that?”
    Caitlin turned, gauged the distance between them and decided it was safe.
    “Aaron is on his way up. I’m going to get dressed. Please let him in.”
    An eyebrow arched. “You’re dressing for him?”
    Caitlin grinned before she thought. “He thinks I’m a heathen because I don’t get out of my nightclothes unless I’m going out.”
    His other eyebrow arched. “You really stay in your pajamas all day?”
    She shrugged. “Sometimes…well, most of the time, yes. So what? Just because I’m Devlin Bennett’s daughter doesn’t make me some social butterfly.”
    He eyed the belligerent thrust to her chin and resisted the urge to grin. Damned if he wasn’t starting to understand her need to assert herself. It couldn’t have been easy being Bennett’s daughter. The man had been on the cover of every important national magazine, had been written up constantly in the newspapers, as well as serving as a constant source of news for the television network.
    “Easy, Caitie. That wasn’t a dig. Actually, that could be considered quite sexy.”
    Her eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat.
    “What do you mean, sexy?”
    “A woman in her nightclothes is a woman one step away from bed. Some men might take that as an invitation.”
    “Yes, I suppose,” Caitlin said, praying that her shock didn’t show. “But some men also eat with their fingers and burp for their own entertainment, and it doesn’t endear them to me, so I’m thinking that the playing field is even. Just let your brother in when he rings and stop baiting me. My head hurts too much to argue with you.”
    The devilment in his eyes faded immediately. “Did you take your pain medicine this morning? How long were you working before you stopped? Sitting at that computer can’t be good for you, with your side so bruised.”
    Taken aback by his concern, Caitlin sputtered, then was saved from having to answer by a knock on the door.
    “That’s Aaron,” she said, bolting out of the kitchen and down the hall.
    Mac shook his head as he answered the door.
    “Good morning, little brother,” he said, as Aaron sailed into the room.
    “Good morning to you, too,” Aaron said. “Where’s Caitlin? Did she get any rest? Are you behaving yourself?”
    “She’s getting dressed, and I suppose she slept…some, at least. I woke up to hear her typing in her office.” Then he frowned. “And just for the record, I resent the implication that I would behave inappropriately.”
    Aaron sighed. “You know what I mean, so don’t be so huffy. I just want you to be nice.”
    “If I was any nicer, I could be looking at getting sued for child support,” he muttered. “Want some coffee?”
    Aaron nodded, too stunned to speak. He stared at the set of Mac’s shoulders as he strode from the room, then listened to the sound of slamming doors and banging crockery before he started to smile. He was still absorbing the child support crack when Caitlin entered the room.
    “Aaron, how good of you to stop by.”
    He blinked. Caitlin was coming toward him with a forced smile on her face. For once he didn’t even notice what she was wearing. He loved her as much as it was possible for him to love any woman. He couldn’t marry her, but Connor could. Of course, that all hinged upon mutual desire. But from the way Mac was acting and the fake smile on Caitlin’s face, something was up. He just didn’t know whether it was good or bad.

Seven
    S ylvia Polanski’s apartment was a total surprise. It was chic, understated and obviously very expensive. Whatever Sylvia’s profession, she had been successful at it.
    Paulie Hahn picked up a small porcelain statuette of a shepherdess and turned it over,