Light in Shadow (10 page)

Too bad there had been no Ethan Truax to come to the rescue at Xanadu. She and Arcadia had been forced to find their own way out of that nightmare.

She watched Ethan from the corner of her eye as he walked beside her toward the car. His hair gleamed darkly in the light of the street lamps. His face was in shadow. He moved through the night with an easy confidence, relaxed but aware of his surroundings. She had the feeling that the trick was a habit that came naturally to him.

The three of them got into Ethan's SUV. Arcadia gave directions to her condo. When they arrived, Zoe and Ethan walked her to her door.

She paused in the white carpeted hall to look searchingly at Zoe one last time.

“Are you sure you'll be okay alone tonight?” she asked. “You're welcome to stay here. You know that.”

“Thanks, I'll be okay.” That was a lie. It was going to be a bad night. But there was nothing anyone could do about the nightmares. She had to deal with them on her own. “Don't worry about me. If I can't get to sleep, I'll spend
the time thinking up ways to explain to the Taylors why their antique Spanish chest has bullet holes in it.”

“All right. I'll see you tomorrow.” Arcadia looked at Ethan. “You probably need rest, too.”

“Probably,” he said, not sounding overly concerned.

Arcadia closed the door. Zoe heard her slide the heavy bolt into place. It was followed by the muffled clink of a chain.

Ethan glanced back at the door as he and Zoe turned to go down the stairs. “Sounds like your friend takes security seriously.”

“We both do. A woman can't be too careful.”

“Yeah, you did sort of prove that today, didn't you?”

The too-neutral, give-nothing-away tone was back in his voice, she noticed. He was in an edgy, unpredictable mood, just as she was, but she did not have a clue to what he was thinking. She reminded herself that he had been through a very traumatic experience that afternoon.

Outside on the street, they got back into his vehicle. The interior seemed a good deal smaller and the atmosphere far more intimate than it had a few minutes ago when there had been three of them.

She was very conscious of Ethan sitting so close. He was not one of those beefy men like Nelson Radnor who looked as if he'd played football in college and who always seemed to crowd a woman. Nevertheless, Ethan somehow managed to take up more than his share of the available space. His nearness did things to her nerve endings, unfamiliar things, things she could not remember experiencing before around a man, not even in her other life.

She wondered if she was suffering some form of delayed shock.

He drove the short distance to the two-story building that housed her apartment and parked in the lot.

Without a word, he got out of the car and opened the door on the passenger side. She knew what he was probably thinking. Ace detective that he was, he could not help but notice that the Casa de Oro Apartments did not exactly
live up to its grand-sounding name. But while the place was no house of gold and although it was considerably more down-market than Arcadia's luxury condo, it was everything it had claimed to be in the newspaper ad she had answered: clean, quiet, and, most important of all,
affordable.

Clutching her tote, she extricated herself from the close confines of the interior and walked with him to the green wrought-iron gate.

It was late, she realized, reaching into her tote for the heavy key ring, almost midnight. It was strange to think that, after all she and Ethan had been through together today, she hardly knew him. Yet here he was, taking her home. She wondered what he would say if she informed him that he was the first man to get this close to her front door since she had moved to Whispering Springs.

Then again maybe he would not be interested in that small factoid. Probably just hand her his itemized bill and ask her when it would be convenient for her to take a look at the room he wanted her to design.

“Here, I'll do that for you.” Ethan took the key chain from her hand and muttered something beneath his breath when he felt the heft of it. Holding it up to the light, he examined the large metal ball attached to the ring. “Why don't you just get yourself a nice rock if you want to add a little extra weight to your purse?”

“It's an antique doorknob. I found it in an old residence I redid a few months ago. I took it to a local craftsman who works in metal and had him attach the key ring to it.”

“I can see that it's a big old doorknob.” He twisted the key in the gate lock. “What I don't understand is why you're using it for a key ring. Some kind of design statement?”

She gave him a cool smile. “It's big enough that I can find it easily in my tote.”

“Uh-huh.” He did not look impressed with her explanation. “You sure as hell don't want to drop it accidentally on your big toe. You'll limp for a week.”

“I'm careful.” She slipped quickly through the gate and
led the way along the walk to the door that opened onto the small lobby. He followed, carrying the brass doorknob in his hand.

“It's the long, silver key,” she said.

He opened the door and stood aside. She moved into the lobby and stopped, locked up with indecision. Should she say good night here or allow him to see her to the door of her apartment? Did one offer a cup of coffee to a man who had arguably saved one's life?

Another chill of awareness went through her at the thought of taking him upstairs to her apartment. This was a no-brainer. Clearly the smart thing to do was to bid him good night here in the lobby. So why was she dithering?

Ethan studied her with an assessing expression. “You sure you're okay? You don't look good.”

“Thanks. You really know how to flatter the client, don't you?”

“Think of it as a professional observation.”

“I'm still feeling a little jumpy, that's all. I told Arcadia that I'm exhausted, and that's true as far as it goes. But I'm all revved up inside. I feel like I'll never sleep again.”

“You overdosed on adrenaline today,” he said. “We both did. Too much of that stuff does a real number on your nervous system. Takes a while to get past the jag.”

“I know,” she said automatically, not stopping to think.

“Been through it before, huh?”

That had been dumb, she thought. It occurred to her that, between the events of the day and the champagne, her defenses were dangerously low. She had better get upstairs to her apartment before she said anything else equally stupid.

“I've heard about the syndrome,” she said smoothly. “Sounds like you've experienced it personally.”

“Once or twice. Goes with the job, occasionally.” He looked at the stairwell. “I'm betting you're upstairs.”

“Yes.” This was the moment when she should thank him once again for coming to her rescue and say good night. But the words seemed to have gotten stuck in her throat.

He gave her another critical survey and then grasped her
elbow in a firm grip. “I'd better see you to your door. I don't think you should be wandering around loose in your present condition.”

“I'm all right, really.” She clung to her tote as if it were a flotation device and she was about to jump into some very deep water. “You're the one who got the worst of it today.”

But she did not resist when he steered her up the staircase. She could feel the power in the hand wrapped around her arm. If he were to tighten his grip fractionally, she knew she would be unable to escape. But she also sensed the control that seemed to be so much a part of him. The combination of strength and self-discipline was disconcertingly sensual.

Maybe it was just this strange mood she was in tonight. She reminded herself for what was probably the two-hundredth time that he was not her type.

At the landing Ethan paused to study the doors that lined the hall. “Which one?”

“The corner apartment.”

He walked her to the door, selected the correct key from the heavy ring, and let her inside her snug little home.

She moved quickly into the miniature foyer, turned on the overhead light, and looked at him. “Have I thanked you for what you did today?”

He propped one shoulder against the door frame and folded his arms. “You've mentioned it a couple of times. If you do it again, I'll probably start back in on my lecture about how you shouldn't have gone out alone to the Taylor place this afternoon.”

She shuddered. “I'd just as soon not hear that particular speech again. But I do want you to know I'm very grateful for what you did today.”

His mouth curved faintly. “I guess this is the point where I get to say,
all part of the job, ma'am. You'll get my bill in the morning.
”

For some reason she found that incredibly funny. She
smiled. The smile turned into a giggle. And then she realized she could not stop.

Something was wrong. She
never
giggled, at least not in this unnatural, high-pitched way.

I'm losing it.

Horrified, she dropped the tote on the floor and slapped her palm over her mouth. Intensely aware of Ethan watching her, she took a deep breath. Then she took another.

Mercifully the runaway laughter subsided. Cautiously she took her hand away from her mouth. She could feel herself turning red with embarrassment.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Me, too,” he said. “That wasn't my best line.”

“Maybe the champagne was not such a good idea tonight,” she said.

“I'm sure it seemed like it at the time.”

“Yes, it did.”

“Mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“I don't know.” Something in his expression made her cautious. “What's the question?”

“You and Arcadia. Are you two, uh, a couple?”

It took her at least two beats to process that query. Then she managed to grasp his meaning.

“No,” she said. “We're friends. Very close friends. But we're not lovers. I'm not gay and Arcadia is, well, I'm not sure what she is, to be perfectly honest. Arcadia is Arcadia. We've never discussed her sexual orientation.”

“That was the way I had it figured, but I just wanted to be sure.”

She could not seem to look away from him. Time was slowing down and turning viscous. She felt like a butterfly trying to move through thick honey.

“Why?” she whispered.

Ethan straightened very deliberately, unfolded his arms, and took one step forward into the hall.

“Because I didn't want to make a complete fool out of myself when I kissed you,” he said.

Time stopped altogether. This was one of those
deer-in-the-headlights moments, she thought. She groped for something intelligent to say, tried to come up with a smart, sophisticated way to break through the heavy spell that held her in thrall. But her brain refused to engage.

All of the restless, chaotic energy that had been ebbing and flowing through her for the past few hours surged abruptly to high tide. Every nerve in her body was shimmering with a tension that was not unlike what she had experienced when she had heard the gunshots outside the wine cellar.

The memory of that moment of horrified dread jolted her out of the silence.

“I was terrified that he'd shot you,” she whispered.

Ethan put his hands on her shoulders. He flexed his fingers, tightening his grip experimentally, as if waiting to see if she would try to run. He drew her slowly toward him.

“All the more reason why you shouldn't have gone out there alone today,” he said.

He really
was
angry, she thought. Or maybe not.

It was impossible to be certain of anything except the heat in his eyes. It was so intense it could have thawed an iceberg. It was certainly doing a terrific job of melting something deep inside her, something that had been frozen for a long time.

She raised her fingers to the small bandage at the edge of his jaw. He had gone home to shower and change after the session with the police. Evidently he had taken the time to shave, too.

It was incredibly exhilarating to touch him like this.

“Are you really mad at me?” she asked, intrigued.

“I'm not sure,” he muttered. “Maybe I'm just pissed off at myself for letting the situation get out of control. I should never have allowed you to get into that mess.”

“It wasn't your fault.”

“Yeah, it was my fault.” He pulled her hard against him and put his mouth very close to hers. “And this is going to be my fault, too. No one to blame here but myself. I really hate when that happens.”

His mouth closed over hers, fierce and demanding. Her response was immediate and electric. Excitement crashed through her. She was literally shaking with it.

With a tiny, muffled moan, she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him. Sensation poured through her, leaving her dazzled and breathless. She had known desire in the past but never like this. She could feel herself growing damp, and he was
just kissing her.