"Good grief. Norblusky's ex-wife isn't a suspect. I don't think she's going to shoot me if she doesn't like the questions I ask."

"For all you know, Norblusky is hiding out at her place. Maybe she agreed to talk to you to find out what you know. Maybe Norblusky is the one who wants you within reach, not his ex."

A chilling thought. She rubbed her arms and smiled. "Wow. You have a lurid imagination. Still, that proves it would be better if you went with me, doesn't it?"

"Stop doing that!" He grabbed her arms and yanked her off his desk.

"Wh-what? Stop what?" Dappled eyes, she was thinking, her head tilted back to blink up at them. Like leaves and dirt and the shady spots beneath a tree ... his lips were too thin, though. Especially when he was angry like this. Thin and hard.

"Don't smile that way when you're hurt or frightened. It makes me crazy."

Something was surely making him crazy. Unfortunately, it seemed to be catching. She could taste her own heartbeat as it pumped summery sweetness through her veins. "Some people face fear with curses. I prefer smiling at it."

"Well, don't." His hands slid down her arms, stopping at her c.o.c.ked elbows. His thumbs began making little circles, barely felt through the thick wool of her sweater. "I don't like it."

"Why not?" She found herself leaning into him.

"Because." His gaze flicked to her mouth. He dragged it back up to her eyes. "There's a reason. I'll think of it in a minute. Something to do with ... fear."

"I see." She saw him. Expressive eyebrows drawn down in confusion now, not anger. Tricky, two-toned eyes intent on her, their pupils pleasure-gorged just from standing near her. A hard mouth pulled in a thin, denying line.

It would soften, she knew it would, if she kissed him.

So she did.

Ethan resisted like crazy. For about as long as it takes to flip a switch from Off to On, he fought her advances. Then he wrapped himself around her and ate her up.

Oh, my. This man didn't need direction or encouragement-he would take everything she would let him have, and then some. Thrilled, Claudia gave herself up to sensation.

He tasted of coffee and subtler flavors, a blend that was only Ethan. She went exploring, wanting to know all his tastes, his scents-like here, along his jaw, where whiskers roughened her mouth's journey.

But he wanted her mouth, and he wanted it right now. He claimed it and spun her in an awkward two-step that ended with her back pressed against something smooth and cool and hard. File cabinets? With himself pressed against her front-warm and hard and not at all smooth.

Ethan undertook his own explorations. His hand was warm and callused on the skin of her stomach and, a moment later, on her breast. Desire skidded over her, landing with a jolt to burn low in her belly. He plucked at her nipple.

Claudia's hands clenched in his hair. Such wonderful hair. How could she have thought it ordinary? It was thick as a mink's pelt, warm from his body's heat.

He pushed up her sweater. Her front-clasp bra dangled loose. He looked at her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s and smiled.

A door slammed. Then a female voice called Ethan's name.

They jumped apart.

"Ahh..." He ran a hand over his hair, pacing away to stop in front of his desk. "That was-I didn't-we agreed, dammit. Are you self-destructive or something?"

"Sorry," she gasped, reaching frantically under her sweater for the loose ends of her bra. There. She jerked the two sides together, hooked them, and bent to get her b.r.e.a.s.t.s seated properly, straightened and pulled her sweater down. "Yes, I am. Romantically, that is, not in any other way."

"Claudia?" His eyebrows twitched and his eyes went dreadfully soft. "What do you-"

The office door slammed open. Bianca Conti stood framed in the doorway, a tall blond G.o.ddess with her hands on her Armani-clad hips and a sneer on her face. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

Claudia, off to the right and out of Bianca's line of sight, stifled a hysterical giggle.

Ethan grimaced. "Have you ever heard of knocking?"

Bianca, single-minded as ever, stomped up to him. "How dare you prey on my father? G.o.d only knows how you convinced him to hire you. I know what you're up to, don't think I don't! You mean to frame my family for everything those stupid Barones have brought upon themselves. I won't have it, Ethan! I won't let you do it!"

"Bianca," Ethan said dryly, "I think you already know Claudia, don't you?"

Claudia cleared her throat delicately.

Bianca whirled and shrieked.

Claudia smiled at her. "h.e.l.lo, Bianca. Love the slacks. Did you find them at Bergstrom's? They had some just like that on sale last week." Translation: So sorry you have to buy at half price these days.

"These are Armani," Bianca informed her coldly. "What are you doing here?"

Kissing the socks off of your ex-husband was probably not a tactful response. "Isn't it obvious? I'm looking out for my family's interests. Seeing that your father is the one who hired him."

Ethan sighed, leaned against his desk and crossed his arms "Which, I'd like to point out, you didn't know until Bianca came storming in here and blurted it out."

"Oh, that's right, blame me!" Bianca rounded on him again. "You always have. For everything."

"I stopped blaming anything on you years ago. I don't need to anymore."

A small silence fell. For the first time, Bianca looked uncertain.

Claudia suppressed a sigh. Bianca was such a drama queen, accustomed to the idea that the world revolved around her-or ought to. No doubt it was disconcerting to discover that her ex-husband didn't spend his time hating her for having ruined his life. "It was all a long time ago," she said kindly, coming forward to pat Bianca on the shoulder.

Bianca looked highly suspicious. "I would think you'd have the courtesy to leave when it's obvious Ethan and I would like to have a private conversation."

"Amazing the way you still know what he wants after all these years." One thing she had to say for Bianca: she was not a Pillow Woman. Didn't that say something about Ethan, too? She turned to him. "Now, about that interview. Did you want to go with me?"

He straightened quickly. The light in his eyes looked a lot like grat.i.tude. "Definitely. We'd better leave now if we don't want to be late."

"Right. We'd better hit the road. Traffic sucks, you know."

You never saw horizons in the city, Claudia mused. The sun had set, but its pa.s.sage was marked as much by light as by darkness. Artificial light. As Ethan's big Buick headed down Huntington , the city slipped into its night wear like a middle-aged lady dressing up in her bangles and glitter. Streetlights winked on; lights glowed in windows and doors, on billboards and neon signs. Brash swaths of light flooded the concrete at gas stations, supermarkets and malls, while headlights beaded the streets.

City lights. They made it hard to spot the point when day crossed over into night, just as city buildings hid the horizon. But that didn't mean those lines didn't exist.

She'd given Ethan the name and address of Norblusky's ex-wife, who lived way out in Brookline . Beyond that, she had no idea what to say to him.

What was wrong with her?

Claudia had always had a healthy s.e.x drive, but this-this mindlessness that overtook her when Ethan touched her was new. Frightening. She'd been completely out of control. And she'd loved it. If Bianca hadn't come storming up the stairs...