Why in the world would he want to go out with her when she acted like a skittish rabbit around him?

"No," he repeated slowly, as if the word were foreign to him. "Why not?"

"Several reasons."

"The first being that I look like Gordon."

"Yes." She wasn't going to lie.

"You can't get beyond that until you get to know me." He didn't wait for her reply. "What are the other reasons?"

"My second career." She went for the least personal, and most irrefutable, argument. "I host a talk-radio show on WVNY. It's a family counseling show. Teens call in with their problems. Parents call in about their teens." Stop babbling, Taylor. "I've got a guest tonight. I promised my producer I'd be there early." She glanced at her watch, unable to focus on the time and not really caring what it was. "You have no idea how much I have to shove into the next few hours. I'll be eating on the run."

"I see." He wasn't buying it, even though he couldn't dispute it. "In that case, let's make it another time."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

He was pushing her into a corner. Fine.

"That's the last reason--and maybe the most important. I'm seeing someone."

"I know. Reed Weston."

Taylor's head shot up. "He told you?"

A shrug. "He mentioned it. He also mentioned it was new. So I'm a.s.suming it's not exclusive."

She really didn't like this man. "I'm not good at juggling relationships."

"Ah. A one-man woman. How refreshing."

Was he complimenting her or mocking her?

"No, I mean it," he clarified, reading her expression. "Loyalty is a rare trait these days."

"Yup, that's me. Loyal." Taylor forced a light note into her tone. "In any case, I'd better get going."

She took a step toward the door. "Enjoy your time with YBLA."

"Taylor." He stopped her--verbally. He made no move to touch her again.

All she wanted was to get out of there. "Yes?"

"You can't get to know me if you keep running."

She turned around slowly. "I'm not running. I'm buying lunch, doing errands, and going to work."

"Would things be different if I weren't Gordon's identical twin?"

"As I said, I'm seeing Reed. So it's a moot point."

"Not really." He took out a business card, handed it to her. "If you change your mind, give me a call.

You won't regret it."

I already do. She took the card and shoved it in her pocket. It was the only way to end this unpleasant exchange. "I really have to go."

"I understand." His expression was unreadable again. "Until next time, then."

Next time? Not likely.

Taylor sucked in the fresh, cold air when she stepped out of Dellinger's front doors. So much for the comfort of her school environment. She hoped Jonathan Mallory wasn't going to make a habit of visiting.

Hurrying through the school gates, she halted, blinking when she saw Reed standing on the sidewalk.

"Hi," he greeted her. He walked over, a quizzical pucker forming between his brows as he saw her agitated state. "Are you okay?"

"Not really."

"What's wrong?"

She ma.s.saged her temples. "I'm about to pa.s.s out from starvation."

"You look white as a sheet." He hooked an arm around her waist. "Come on. I'll get you some food."

Ten minutes later, they were in a little Italian deli, munching on their roast-beef-and-provolone panini.

"Thank you." Taylor could feel her energy level returning, along with the color in her cheeks. "All I've eaten today is a Nutri-Grain bar and three spoonfuls of yogurt. The chicken breast I defrosted for dinner is pretty skimpy, and I won't have much time to eat it. I have to get to the station early. I've got a guest tonight. She's a little on the nervous side. Kevin will kill me if I'm not there to prep her."

"Then I'm glad I could rescue you."

Taylor shot him a quizzical look. "You had no way of knowing I was about to faint from hunger. So, to what do I owe this impromptu visit?"

"I came to say good night."

The quizzical look intensified. "Excuse me?"

"You fell asleep last night before I could say it. So I'm here to rectify the omission."

A glint of humor sparkled in Taylor's eyes. "I see. That's very thorough of you."

"And very gallant," he prompted.

"Yes, that, too." She took another bite of her sandwich. "Is it that easy for you to leave your office in the middle of the day?"

"It's next to impossible. I did it anyway."

Her glance turned insightful. "I appreciate the snack and the sentiment. And I'm flattered by the attention. But I have a feeling it's more than me that's pulling you away from the office these days. Am I right?"

Reed wished he could confide in her. "I suppose," he replied with a shrug. "But, believe me, you're more than enough enticement to get me away from any place, anytime."

That prompted a tiny shiver as the memories of last night flashed through her mind. "Speaking of which, I appreciate your sensitivity last night. I literally pa.s.sed out. I don't remember anything after the sofa.

But I realize you didn't.. . you just put me on the bed and left me in my clothes instead of . . ."

"I'm not in the habit of taking advantage of sleeping women," Reed finished for her. He brought her palm to his mouth, brushing his lips across it. "Besides, when I put you in that bed undressed, it won't be when I'm going home. It'll be when I'm staying. It also won't be when you're sound asleep. It'll be when you're awake--very awake."

s.e.xual tension crackled in the air, and the revived color on Taylor's cheeks deepened to a flush. "I'm glad," she replied frankly, making no attempt to play coy. It would be ludicrous to do so at this point. They both knew where this relationship was headed, at least physically. The only question was when it would get there.

"Was everything okay today?" Reed changed the subject to ask.

Taylor sighed. "Yes and no. If you're asking if anyone's been following me, no. Today's it's been just me and my pepper spray."

"But?"

"But I had an unsettling meeting."

"With the parents of one of your students?"

"No. With Jonathan Mallory."

"Jonathan?" Reed stared. "Where the h.e.l.l did you see him?"

"At Dellinger. Right before I left. He was guest-speaking at a club."

Anger drew Reed's lips into a grim line. "Funny, he didn't mention that to me. I had lunch with the guy."

"Today?"

"Yup. Not three hours ago."

Taylor studied Reed's reaction curiously. "You're angry."

"d.a.m.n right I am. We discussed you. He never said a word about heading over to your school."

"You told him we were seeing each other. He admitted that."

"But he hit on you anyway."

Taylor's shoulders lifted in a shrug. "He didn't exactly hit on me. It's more like he was pleading his case, letting me know he was nothing like Gordon. Yes, he asked me out. But not in any offensive way. Not really. It's just that. . ." Her voice trailed off.

"Go on."

"The guy just makes me uncomfortable. I don't know why. I try to separate him from Gordon, but I don't like being around him. He gives me the creeps."

"That's the last thing you need right now. I'll talk to him."

Taylor felt herself smile. "Reed, you don't have to take me on as a cause. I'm very capable. I know how to take care of myself. I've been doing it for almost twenty-eight years."

"Yeah, too much so." Reed took a gulp of coffee. "It's time you learned to rely on someone else--or at least to trust someone a little."

"I already do trust you a little. It's a lot that'll take some time."

"I know." He paused, his forehead creasing as he weighed out his next words--or rather, how Taylor would receive them. "I gave my brother Rob a call this afternoon. He and his partner were heading out on some priority investigation, but he said he'd get me a few names by the end of the day. And, no, I'm not making decisions for you," he added quickly.

"What you do with the names is up to you. I'm just trying to be time efficient. So don't rip my head off."

"A few names." Taylor stopped munching on her sandwich. "You mean, of private investigators?" At Reed's nod, she pushed away her paper plate. "I'm not going to rip your head off, but I am confused.

I thought we were giving things a day or two to play out--or at least waiting until the next time I sensed I was being watched. What's changed?"

"Nothing." The lie tasted like sand on his tongue. "I just felt better starting the process. This way there won't be a time lag--if you need to hire someone."

"Right." She folded her arms across her chest and stared him down. "Why don't you tell me what this is really about? What occurred to you between the time you left my apartment and the time you called your brother?"

Reed blew out his breath. Ethically, he couldn't tell her about Jonathan, but he sure as h.e.l.l could touch on the other possibilities that had kept him up most of the night.

"A lot of things occurred to me, starting with the fact that I couldn't throw the inside bolt when I left your place, so your apartment wasn't double-locked last night. What else? How about the fact that you represent emotional sanctuary--and G.o.d knows what else--to a lot of teens, any one of whom might be unstable enough to try transforming fantasy into reality. Like the fact that you're not only a public figure, but a public figure with a rich family, which makes you a prime target for kidnappers and extortionists--potentially including professionals who have an ax to grind with your father. Is that enough? Or do you want me to go on?"

"You can stop." Taylor's tone was composed, but the intensity of her stare hadn't changed. "None of this is new territory. I've considered all of it. I'm sure you did, too, within two minutes of my relaying the situation to you. You have a sharp, a.n.a.lytical mind. You deliberate the possibilities at warp speed. You keep a cool, level head. All that's part of being a crackerjack defense attorney--which my sources tell me you are."

"A crackerjack attorney would inform you that that's all hearsay and supposition," he countered lightly.

"Fair enough," she returned. "Then I'll rephrase. From personal observation, I can safely conclude you're smart as a whip and not the panicky type. So try that explanation again."

Reed did just that. This time, he went for a different, equally risky kind of candor. "You're right. I'm not the panicky type. But staying cool only works in situations where I'm not personally involved-- which I never am with my clients. That's not the case with you. I am involved. So the same rules don't apply."

He knew he had her there. She couldn't argue with him. Not when they both knew it was the truth.

The question was, how would she react?

He found out soon enough. Taylor's lashes lowered, and she shifted in her seat, looking torn and unsettled. Whether she was torn by the bluntness of his admission or by her own continued doubts as to whether or not he'd been entirely honest with her--that was another story.

Either way, she let it go. "Okay, so you called your brother. Thanks-- I think. In the meantime, based on your picking me up after school like a worried parent, am I to a.s.sume you've appointed yourself surrogate PI?"

Her a.n.a.logy made Reed grin. "A worried parent? Hardly. More like a cautious escort. As for the t.i.tle of surrogate PI, you have to admit, it would be a unique addition to my resume."

"Not to mention a great icebreaker at parties," Taylor agreed. She studied him thoughtfully. "Your resume, huh? Does that mean you're in the process of updating it?"

One dark brow rose.

"Reed, I'm not pushing. I'm here to talk, or just to listen. Moral support goes both ways, you know."

"Yeah, I know." He reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "You may not believe it, but I'm looking forward to confiding in you. I have a feeling you'll give me some major perspective."