Warm Hearts by Barbara Delinsky Page A

tea.
    Elliot wasn’t quite as awestruck. Recovering from the shock of Brendan’s appearance—more than that, from the shock of Brendan’s obvious familiarity with Caroline’s apartment—he narrowed his eyes on Caroline and murmured under his breath, “What’s going on here?”
    Under normal circumstances, Caroline would have shrugged. But these weren’t normal circumstances. Brendan, her hero, had come to her rescue. She couldn’t take her eyes from him as he calmly downed his drink and set the empty glass on the counter.
    â€œI asked you a question, Caroline,” Elliot said in that same low murmur.
    Her eyes flew to his and she blinked, as though surprised to find him still there. “Excuse me?”
    â€œWhat’s he doing here?”
    In that instant, Caroline realized that she had to pick up the ball. Brendan’s entrance had been stupendous. She couldn’t flub her part and let him down. “He’s just come in from a run.”
    â€œIn his bare feet?”
    â€œIt’s the newest trend,” Brendan injected nonchalantly. “I think it started with Zola Budd in the Olympics.” He dropped his gaze to the toe that hurt like hell and was beginning to swell. “I have to admit that it has its drawbacks.”
    Caroline, too, saw the toe. “How did you do that?” she asked, raising hurting eyes to his.
    It was all he could do to think of a response when she was looking at him that way. Her eyes were brown, like his. He’d never thought his own particularly scintillating, but hers were. And so soft. And filled with worry.
    â€œI’m afraid—” he made a face and scratched the back of his head “—that I wasn’t watching where I was going. There was this Lamborghini that passed me and I made the mistake of turning my head to look at it. I ran into a trash can.” He shrugged. “I suppose I could blame it on the dark—”
    â€œLet me get some ice.”
    â€œNo, no, hon, it’s okay.” He came to stand by her shoulder, close enough for her arm to graze his chest. “Will Elliot be joining us for dinner?” he asked softly.
    Elliot was staring hard at Caroline. “I thought you said there was no one else.”
    â€œThere hasn’t been—”
    â€œâ€”until now,” Brendan finished.
    â€œWe’ve just recently met,” she explained, but she didn’t feel guilt. She knew that would come later. For now, she couldn’t think of anything but the large, firm body beside her. Its warmth, a world apart from the June heat, drew her closer. Its scent, ripe with maleness and sweat, filled her senses. Its sheer size made her feel safe and alive and very, very feminine. “Brendan lives across the courtyard,” she added a trifle breathlessly.
    Mistaking breathlessness for weakness, Elliot lashed out. “You told me that you needed a break this weekend. That you wanted to be alone. That you had work to do and sleep to catch up on. Is this what I get for squiring you around town for three months straight?”
    â€œNo one asked you to do that,” she said quietly.
    â€œBut I did it, and you didn’t say boo. Now, all of a sudden you don’t need me anymore, so you throw me every excuse in the book.”
    â€œI meant what I said.”
    â€œIs that why he’s here?” Elliot shot back with a dagger’s glance at Brendan. “How do you think this makes me feel?”
    Caroline knew how Brendan’s presence made her feel—warm inside, a little giddy and very excited. Because of those feelings she was having trouble sympathizing with Elliot. “I’m sorry if you’re upset.”
    â€œUpset?” He started to raise a hand to his face but dropped it before it reached its goal. “That’s a mild word for what I feel.”
    Brendan leaned closer to Caroline. His arm crossed her back, hand coming to