back at her. She felt trapped, especially when David put his arm around her shoulder and said, “I thought you were too new in town to have made any friends. Isn’t that what you told me?”
He accompanied the question with a smile, but Penelope heard a certain disapproval that she didn’t understand. She had said those words to him only a few weeks earlier, but she resented him for assuming she’d had no time to meet anyone other than himself.
Penelope could almost hear Mrs. Merlin chastising her for having no sense of adventure. A spark flamed as she considered the years she’d subsisted on fantasies for emotional fulfillment.
Throwing caution to the wind, she eased from David’s grasp and captured Olano’s hand. Giving him a gentle squeeze and what she hoped was a coquettish glance, she said, “Well, we’re just now getting to know one another, David, but I think I’ve found a great new friend in . . .” Penelope stumbled momentarily. Hectares and horses, she didn’t even know the man’s first name! “In New Orleans,” she finished.
This time it was the man with bedroom eyes who draped an arm over her shoulders. At his touch she experienced an electricity completely absent from David’s contact.
He traced the line of her jaw, setting off more sparks. She smothered a gasp. After all, she’d started this game; Olano was merely playing along.
David, annoyance clear in his pale eyes, said, “Before you get too involved with your new friend, Penelope, you might want to ask for character references.”
Olano withdrew his arm, leaving her feeling strangely bare. “Good advice,” he said.
“ ‘Cause dirty cops don’t mix too well with squeaky clean lawyers,” David said.
“But they’re fine for lawyers with sleaze under their fingernails?” Olano tossed out the challenging words and once again Penelope knew she was witnessing a running feud between the two men.
But she’d had enough. “If the two of you want to argue, you can leave,” she said, enjoying her more dominant self. “I’ve had a rough day, fainted from heat exhaustion, and the last thing I want to do is listen to bickering.”
David opened his mouth, then snapped it shut.
Tony, from his stance near the refrigerator, shot Penelope a mental thumbs-up. She’d stood up to Hinson and played up to him. Not a bad effort for a woman caught between two strong personalities. Not only did she possess hidden fire, but hidden steel as well.
As if to prove that point, Penelope grasped his elbow and steered him to the door. “Thank you for coming by,” she said, once again in that formal tone of hers.
“Anytime you need me,” he said, checking to make sure Hinson hadn’t stayed in the kitchen, “just call.”
Sure enough, Hinson followed, looking every inch the hawk circling its prey.
Almost as soon as he put one foot in front of the other, Penelope dropped her hand from his elbow. She clearly wanted him out, which was just as well. He’d overstayed his welcome, and with a guy like Hinson, that could mean trouble for Penelope. He only wished she’d toss them both out at the same time.
At the door he paused and said to Hinson, “You and I go back a ways, and I want you to know I actually hadn’t met Ms. Fields before today, when she fainted at my feet on Canal.”
Hinson narrowed his eyes. “No? What a shame.” He slipped an arm around her and ruffled her hair. “She’s a terrific girl.”
Penelope smiled a stiff little smile.
Tony wondered what women saw in the guy. And girl was definitely not the word he’d use to describe Penelope; she was all woman.
A complex woman he’d like to get to know.
“Catch ya later,” he said, then halted with one foot out the door. Trained to see and hear the most subtle of indications of something amiss, he’d detected a shifting of the bedroom door. There—again it edged backward, only by a few inches, but enough to alert Tony to the presence of someone behind the door.
Hinson
He accompanied the question with a smile, but Penelope heard a certain disapproval that she didn’t understand. She had said those words to him only a few weeks earlier, but she resented him for assuming she’d had no time to meet anyone other than himself.
Penelope could almost hear Mrs. Merlin chastising her for having no sense of adventure. A spark flamed as she considered the years she’d subsisted on fantasies for emotional fulfillment.
Throwing caution to the wind, she eased from David’s grasp and captured Olano’s hand. Giving him a gentle squeeze and what she hoped was a coquettish glance, she said, “Well, we’re just now getting to know one another, David, but I think I’ve found a great new friend in . . .” Penelope stumbled momentarily. Hectares and horses, she didn’t even know the man’s first name! “In New Orleans,” she finished.
This time it was the man with bedroom eyes who draped an arm over her shoulders. At his touch she experienced an electricity completely absent from David’s contact.
He traced the line of her jaw, setting off more sparks. She smothered a gasp. After all, she’d started this game; Olano was merely playing along.
David, annoyance clear in his pale eyes, said, “Before you get too involved with your new friend, Penelope, you might want to ask for character references.”
Olano withdrew his arm, leaving her feeling strangely bare. “Good advice,” he said.
“ ‘Cause dirty cops don’t mix too well with squeaky clean lawyers,” David said.
“But they’re fine for lawyers with sleaze under their fingernails?” Olano tossed out the challenging words and once again Penelope knew she was witnessing a running feud between the two men.
But she’d had enough. “If the two of you want to argue, you can leave,” she said, enjoying her more dominant self. “I’ve had a rough day, fainted from heat exhaustion, and the last thing I want to do is listen to bickering.”
David opened his mouth, then snapped it shut.
Tony, from his stance near the refrigerator, shot Penelope a mental thumbs-up. She’d stood up to Hinson and played up to him. Not a bad effort for a woman caught between two strong personalities. Not only did she possess hidden fire, but hidden steel as well.
As if to prove that point, Penelope grasped his elbow and steered him to the door. “Thank you for coming by,” she said, once again in that formal tone of hers.
“Anytime you need me,” he said, checking to make sure Hinson hadn’t stayed in the kitchen, “just call.”
Sure enough, Hinson followed, looking every inch the hawk circling its prey.
Almost as soon as he put one foot in front of the other, Penelope dropped her hand from his elbow. She clearly wanted him out, which was just as well. He’d overstayed his welcome, and with a guy like Hinson, that could mean trouble for Penelope. He only wished she’d toss them both out at the same time.
At the door he paused and said to Hinson, “You and I go back a ways, and I want you to know I actually hadn’t met Ms. Fields before today, when she fainted at my feet on Canal.”
Hinson narrowed his eyes. “No? What a shame.” He slipped an arm around her and ruffled her hair. “She’s a terrific girl.”
Penelope smiled a stiff little smile.
Tony wondered what women saw in the guy. And girl was definitely not the word he’d use to describe Penelope; she was all woman.
A complex woman he’d like to get to know.
“Catch ya later,” he said, then halted with one foot out the door. Trained to see and hear the most subtle of indications of something amiss, he’d detected a shifting of the bedroom door. There—again it edged backward, only by a few inches, but enough to alert Tony to the presence of someone behind the door.
Hinson
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