They left the building, dodging students seated on the dozen steps outside the front door. A warm breeze carried the scent of water from Lake Washington, where the University's rowing team practiced on the rippled lake surface, the white racing sculls skimming over the blue. Pink, white and red azaleas and rhododendrons made brilliant splashes of color against the background of green fir trees and the ivy that climbed brick-and-stone buildings.

"Gran said you've been working out of town?"

"Yes, in Vegas." Jake slipped his sunglasses on, shielding his eyes.

"So that's where you got the tan. I knew you couldn't have been sunning yourself in Seattle, because until last week, most of our days have been rainy." Amusement tinged her slightly husky voice. Jake glanced at Chloe to find her smiling.

"The Pacific Northwest's version of liquid sunshine," he commented.

"Exactly. Are you a native Northwesterner?"

"Born and raised on the Kitsap Peninsula. You?"

"I was born in Seattle. I've lived here all my life, except for a few years while my father taught at UC Berkeley."

"Your father's a professor, too?"

"He was-his field of study was mathematics. He passed away when I was six." Chloe gestured across campus at the math and science buildings. "Abbott Library over there is named after him."

"So you're a third-generation UW professor. That makes you a legend here."

Chloe laughed. "That's true." Her smile became a frown and she slowed, looking over her shoulder.

"Something wrong?"

She didn't answer immediately, but he saw her shiver as she scanned the students on the sidewalk behind them.

"What is it?" Jake asked.

"Nothing. At least, nothing I can see."

"What do you mean?"

"I've had this creepy feeling for the past few days-as if someone's watching me. If I didn't know better, I'd swear I'm being followed."

Jake stopped, drawing her with him off the sidewalk and onto the grass. The flow of pedestrian traffic continued past them, the walkway crowded with noisy students on their way to lunch.

"You think you're being stalked?" He searched her face, read the uneasiness on her features and looked back at the busy sidewalk, studying the crowd for any visible threat.

It can't be a coincidence that she feels she's being followed so soon after meeting me, Jake thought grimly.

He'd never forgive himself if he'd made Chloe a target for whoever had been following him for the last six weeks.

Three.

Jake shifted her behind him, concealing her from the crowd with his body while he continued to inspect the busy walkway.

"I haven't actually seen anyone following me but I have this...this eerie feeling that I'm being watched." Chloe's fingers closed over his forearm and she felt his muscles flex. "I swear the hair rises on the back of my neck."

"When in doubt, trust your gut instinct," he said. "If something doesn't feel right, it probably isn't. Soldiers learn that lesson the first week in a combat zone."

"I've never had anything like this happen to me before," Chloe told him. "I've read about it, and seen it in movies. But in real life and to me personally? No."

"You sound more annoyed than scared." Jake swept one more glance over the surrounding area. "Do you still feel you're being watched?"

Chloe paused, assessing, and was relieved when she realized the eerie feeling had disappeared. "No."

"Good." He checked his watch. "Let's resume this over lunch." He took her arm and they left the grass for the sidewalk. He didn't return to the subject of a possible stalker until they were seated at the restaurant with slices of hot pizza and cold drinks in front of them.

"What about a boyfriend?"

Startled, she looked up, her glass of ice water halfway to her lips. "I beg your pardon?"

"Have you had a fight with a boyfriend lately?"

"I'm not dating anyone at present." Chloe caught a quick flash of satisfaction.

"What about ex-boyfriends? Any relationships that ended badly? Guys who might be looking for revenge?"

"No." She shook her head. "Definitely not a possible scenario."

"That leaves us with professional enemies."

"I work in the English Department at a university," Chloe said. "None of my fellow assistant professors are the James Bond type. In fact..." She smiled. "My sister calls them Woody Allenwannabes."

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows. "That bad, huh?"

"Not bad," she protested. "They're very nice men."

"Hmm," he murmured, but didn't comment further. "So you have a sister?"

"I have two, actually."

"Either of them have a reason to follow or threaten you?"

"No." A swift mental image of Alexie made Chloe laugh.

"What?"

"I just pictured Alexie trying to stalk me. She has no patience-she'd last maybe two minutes before she confronted me and told me exactly what she wanted."

"I think I like her." Jake's lips curved in a smile. "Apparently both you and Alexie inherited some of your grandmother Winifred's character traits. You said you have two sisters?"

Chloe nodded. "Alexie is my older sister. Lily is younger than me by five years. And before you ask..." She held up her hand to forestall his next question. "Lily's on a buying trip in Europe for her lingerie boutique. And my mother's with her, so neither of them could possibly be connected to this. Not that there's any possibility of that, anyway," she added. "I have a normal family, Jake. And I live a perfectly average life. I have no idea why someone would want to follow me or who this person might be."

"Maybe you have nothing to worry about," he said calmly. "Have you talked to the police?"

"No. What would I tell them-that I feel someone watching me?" She frowned. "They'd call in a psychiatrist and have me committed."

"Not necessarily. They get more complaints like yours than you might think."

"I'm guessing they file them in the 'paranoid' folder." Chloe was unconvinced. "I'd rather wait until I have something concrete to tell them before I call."

"What sort of evidence are you waiting for?"

"I don't know." Chloe bit her lip, considering. "Something beyond an uneasy feeling. If I'd actually seen the person who's following me, then I'd have something solid for the police to investigate."

"But you haven't noticed anyone unusual or out of the ordinary? No one who made you feel uncomfortable?"

Chloe instantly thought of the man wearing sunglasses outside David's shop.

"What is it?"

"Probably nothing."

"Tell me."

"The other afternoon I was in downtown Seattle, picking up a gift for my grandmother's birthday. I saw a man outside the shop who seemed to be staring at me through the glass. But I may have been imagining it. I turned to speak to David and when I looked back, the man was gone."

"Could you describe him?"

She called up the image of the man at David's shop and told Jake the few things she remembered.

"Any distinctive features?" Jake asked.

"No."

"Have you seen the man since then?"

"No."

"But you still feel as if someone's following you." Jake's words were more a confirmation than a question.

Chloe stared at him. His face was set in grim lines. Despite the sunshine that poured through the window behind her, Chloe shivered. "You think I'm being stalked. You believe me."

"Yes." Jake's eyes narrowed. "You've gone pale as a ghost."

Chloe crossed her arms. The short-sleeved, light cotton sweater she wore over her sleeveless summer dress suddenly wasn't heavy enough to warm her. "Telling you about it has somehow made it more real."

"I didn't mean to scare you more than you already are, Chloe." Jake stretched across the table and took her hand, folding it between his palms. The heat from his hands warmed her chilled fingers and reached past the fear to stir the sexual awareness that always simmered just below the surface when he was near. "We'll find out who the man is, why he's following you and what he wants."

"But I didn't know the man I saw through the window. I have no idea who he is or why he'd follow me."

"First things first. We should tell the police. Even though you don't have a lot of information, they can at least take a report and establish a file. Who knows?" Jake shrugged. "Maybe something you tell them will fit into a bigger puzzle, since we have no idea what connection you have with this man."

"I have a one o'clock lecture, but after that I'm free for the rest of the afternoon. I'll drive downtown to the Seattle Police Department when I'm finished."

"I'll make a couple of calls. I'm sure they'll send an officer out here to talk with you."

"I'd rather meet the officer off campus. I'd like to keep this from my colleagues and students, if possible."

"All right." Jake looked at his watch. "We'd better leave if you're going to make your one o'clock class."

"Is it that late already?" Chloe checked her own watch, slid out of the booth and grabbed her purse, waiting while Jake paid their bill.

He took her arm as they left the restaurant, surveying the student and faculty pedestrians as they crossed the campus.

"As first dates go, this has been memorable," he said when they reached her office at Liberty Hall. He leaned against the doorjamb, waiting for her.

Chloe slipped her lecture notes and two volumes of poetry into her briefcase and rejoined him. "Are you telling me most women you take out for pizza don't require bodyguard services?" she asked wryly.

"Not usually, no." He looked sideways at her and grinned. Sunlight shafted through the high windows at the end of the hall and burnished his dark hair. Chloe couldn't help smiling back. She felt safer with him nearby.

She touched his hand. "Thank you," she said softly. "I didn't realize how worried I've been. I feel safer just knowing you're taking me seriously."

His eyes darkened and he covered her hand with his, trapping her fingers against his warm skin. "I'm glad."

A door slammed down the hall, the noise breaking the charged moment between them, and Chloe slipped her hand from his. "I'd better go."

"I'll walk with you."

Jake fell into step beside her as they left Liberty Hall and walked the short distance to her classroom. She said goodbye and entered the lecture hall on the lower level; Jake followed her, stopping on the threshold to peruse the room. Directly in front of him was a speaker's table where Chloe was arranging a couple of books and a sheaf of notes. Beyond the small instructor area, theater seats rose in tiers to a set of upper doors where students were entering. The room was filling quickly. Satisfied that Chloe was safe for the moment, Jake stepped outside, lowered the doorstop to keep the door open and moved to the shade of a walnut tree several yards across the lawn. He dropped onto a bench beneath the big old tree and pulled out his cell phone to call his office.

"Morrissey Demolition."

"Barbara, I need you to cancel my afternoon appointments."

"Sure, boss. Should I reschedule?"

"No. Tell them I'm dealing with an emergency situation and you'll call tomorrow to arrange another time."

"All right. Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine. I should be in the office late this afternoon. Thanks, Barbara." He hung up and dialed the cell-phone number for Gray Stewart, an old friend and a detective with the Seattle Police Department. While he waited for Gray to answer, he watched Chloe through the open hall door. She walked back and forth as she spoke, pausing to ask and answer questions, unmistakably passionate about the subject under discussion, whatever it might be.

"Hello."

"Gray, it's Jake. I've got a problem. I think whoever's been following me has started stalking a woman I'm seeing."

"The brunette in the Tribune photo?"