Compassion stirred almost against her will.

"Want to talk about it?"

His expression hardened.

He didn't need her pity.

"No."

She sighed.

Why had she even bothered?

"Same old Gray."

His eyes held hers for a minute.

"It doesn't concern you."

Once, everything about him had concerned her.

-But then he had thrown all that away.

"You're right, it doesn't." The sudden wave of anger subsided as she

saw him walking toward the front door again.

She bit her lip, debating.

"It'shotoutside," shebegan.

, ' He had his hand on the door.

"It's always hot outside."

As if an unseen hand was pushing her, Caitlin slo'wly crossed over to

him.

She could see a slight bead of perspiration along his forehead.

The guilt increased.

"You're sweating."

The expression on his face strove for uninterest.

"Even Native Americans sweat."

She was about to snap at him that he was being a biiz2er fathead than

usual, then stopped.

It sounded as if he had just gone through a great deal on the phone.

But that still didn't give him the right to talk to her as if she were

a copy of her mother.

Abruptly she cleared off a space on the counter.

"Here."

He looked down at it.

What was she showing him?

There was nothing there.

"What?"

Anytime you want to take that rather conspicuous chip off your

shoulder, you can park it right here.

In the meantime, you can stay in the shop.

I don't want your burned carcass on my conscience.

7 2.

His lips curved, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

They remained flat.

"I'm surprised you have room in your conscience for anything else."

That did it.

He was hopeless.

Stifling an oath only because there was a customer in the store,

Caitlin grabbed her purse from under the counter and headed for the door.

"I'm going out to lunch, Kerry," she called over her shoulder.

It was past two.

She had intended to work through lunch and have some take-out food delivered, but this was too much to put up with.

She needed some air, even if it was hot.

"Not without me, you're not."

Gray was directly behind her, shadowing her steps to the door.

"Terrific."

She ground out the word through her teeth.

Graham reached over and pushed open the door for her, letting her walk

out first.

"So, where do you usually eat?"

"Usually? Out of a paper bag in the back room."

She nodded toward the store.

Her eyes met his.

"Bti.t I suddenly need some space."

She'd wanted to get away from him, but that obviously wasn't about-to

happen.

Caitlin looked up and down the street.

She had never really noticed how many people there were out here.

So many different faces.

What if one of them-?

She couldn't shake away the fear.

It surrounded her with a vise-like grip.

"Do you really think he's out there?"

Caitlin spoke softly, attempting to hide the anxiety she felt.

But he detected a hitch in her voice.

He was tempted to contradict himself.

Even so, he couldn't lie to her.

"Yeah, I do."