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“Why are you sorry?” She grabbed a handful of napkins and pressed them against her thigh. “I was the one who spilled my tea.”
“But only because I made you nervous.” His voice was soft, his gaze intimate, as if they’d shared something personal.
“You didn’t make me nervous,” she lied. “I’m not used to sexual innuendo this early in the morning. Or men like you. You’re—”
“Cute? Irresistible? Interesting?”
“I was thinking more of annoying, predictable and inappropriate.”
His smile promised fun and sin and a thousand things she didn’t dare think about while she had hot tea in her hand.
“I made you nervous. And flustered. And if I were to analyze you, I’d say you’re a woman who hates to feel either of those things.”
Flustered? Oh yes, she was flustered. Being close to him made her feel light-headed and dizzy. She was agonizingly aware of every single detail, from the dark masculinity of his unshaven jaw, to the wicked glint in his eyes. But beneath the humor was a sharp eye for detail, and that worried her more than anything.
She had a feeling he saw far more than people usually did.
It was like hiding in a cupboard and knowing that someone was right outside the door waiting for you to reveal yourself.
And that was closer than she ever let anyone step.
“Thanks for the tea.” She threw the cup away and reached for Valentine’s lead.
“Wait.” He reached out and caught her hand. “Don’t go.”
“I have to work.” It was true, although that wasn’t why she was leaving. She knew it. He knew it. Conversation, a light flirtation—that was all fine. She didn’t want more. “Goodbye, Daniel. Have a great day.” She whistled to Valentine, put him back on his lead and took off through the park without looking back.
Tomorrow she was going to take a different route.
There was no way she was going to risk bumping into him again.
No way.
Four
He didn’t have a great day. He had a frustrating, long and tiring day during which Molly kept popping up in his thoughts. He wondered where she went after she’d run in the park. He wondered who her friends were and what sort of life she led. He had a million questions about her, and very few answers.
Most of all he wondered what he’d said to make her run off.
He’d enjoyed the snap and spark of the conversation, the flirtation. It was the verbal equivalent of waterskiing— speeding and bouncing over the surface, but never delving into the deeper, murky waters below. It suited him fine, because he had no interest in going deeper.
He guessed she was the same.
He knew from the look on her face that she had issues. He’d seen that same look across his desk more times than he could count and he recognized the shadows of hurt. It didn’t worry him. He’d never met a human being over the age of twenty who didn’t have some issues.
That was what being alive did for you. If you engaged in life, eventually you’d have scars to show for it.
He wondered who was responsible for Molly’s scars.
It was that urge to know more that drew him back to the park the next morning, with Brutus tugging at his lead. It didn’t occur to him that she might not show up. For a start she had to walk Valentine, and something told him she wasn’t going to change her habits in order to avoid him, so he took the usual path, Brutus by his side.
Without Valentine to keep him in line there was a strong chance the dog wasn’t going to come back, so he kept him on the lead. He’d even yelled “Ruffles” once to see if that made a difference but all that had done was confirm what Daniel already suspected, that the dog didn’t have a problem recognizing his name. He had a problem recognizing authority.
As someone who had grown up challenging and questioning, Daniel empathized.
He was hauling the dog’s nose out of a muddy puddle when Valentine appeared.
There was no sign of Molly.
