had his hand on the doorknob now, obviously eager to claim time alone with Penelope.
Rather than taking the hint, Tony slouched into his good old boy posture, resting one shoulder against the doorframe, giving himself a moment to analyze the situation.
What if they weren’t alone? There could be an intruder, or potentially even more serious, maybe Penelope had another man stashed in the bedroom. She’d hinted at such a thing earlier.
If Hinson found out and lost his temper, it wouldn’t be pretty. Penelope didn’t look the type, but then, Tony reminded himself, she didn’t carry the profile of a petty thief, either.
Shit. Tony hated being the man who tried to do the right thing.
Penelope shifted from foot to foot, glancing from him back to Hinson.
“Before I go,” Tony said, straightening his body and checking for the .22 he carried in the leg pocket of his khaki shorts, “I think you should know there’s someone else in your apartment.”
“No, there’s not,” Penelope snapped out her response.
Tony raised his brows at her defensive reaction. So she knew.
Hinson stilled the hand he’d been smoothing over Penelope’s hair. Tony read the awareness of danger in the other man’s body as he shifted onto the balls of his feet and freed his arms. He also, Tony noted, unbuttoned with a swift motion his pretty-boy jacket.
No doubt he carried a piece under that coat.
“Would you mind explaining yourself?”
Even now Hinson had to talk like an overpaid lawyer, Tony thought, then cocked his head toward the bedroom.
“There’s no one in my apartment other than the three of us.” Penelope hedged backward, moving protectively toward the bedroom door. “And if you don’t mind, Mr. Olano, that is one person too many.”
“Ooh,” Tony said, grinning at Penelope, which only seemed to set her back up more, “Sticks and stones . . .” As he spoke, he loosened the Velcro opening of his shorts pocket.
Hinson shadowed Tony’s movement toward the bedroom.
Penelope raised her hands. “Stop.” Tony detected a flush to her cheeks and a sparkly light in her eyes he could swear hadn’t been there earlier. What was she hiding? How many layers of deception did this lady have built up?
In a lazy voice, Hinson said, “Why, Penelope, what if a burglar has broken in and is hiding in your bedroom? What if there’s a desperate character in there waiting for us to leave so he can ravish you and—” He slashed a hand across his throat.
Penelope touched her shapely throat with a hand that trembled slightly. Tony saw the nervous motion and knew she was lying to them.
He exchanged looks with Hinson and nodded. As odd as it was for the two of them, enemies for life, to be acting in accord, they lunged together past Penelope and, with guns drawn, burst through the bedroom door.
Chapter 6
“Guns!” Penelope raced after the two guys. That the man with bedroom eyes wielded a gun didn’t surprise her. But David? That was so out of character she couldn’t quite grasp that he’d whipped out a gun that looked even bigger and deadlier than the one Olano had produced.
“Are you guys nuts?” Poor Mrs. Merlin! Her heart might stop from fright. It struck Penelope that she’d never be able to explain to the woman’s family that they only needed a six-inch coffin, and she bit back a hysterical laugh.
They had the closet and the bathroom door open wide. Olano had gone to his knees beside the bed. David had pulled the drapes and stood checking the windows that led to the balcony.
The cookbook and remote control lay on the bed where Penelope had left them, but no sign of the diminutive Mrs. Merlin existed. Penelope wrinkled her brow and poked the carpet with the toe of her house slipper. Had she imagined the entire incident? Had she gotten so out of control with her fantasy life that she’d created the creature in her mind and projected her into the basket of napkin rings?
Olano had risen from the floor beside her bed
Rather than taking the hint, Tony slouched into his good old boy posture, resting one shoulder against the doorframe, giving himself a moment to analyze the situation.
What if they weren’t alone? There could be an intruder, or potentially even more serious, maybe Penelope had another man stashed in the bedroom. She’d hinted at such a thing earlier.
If Hinson found out and lost his temper, it wouldn’t be pretty. Penelope didn’t look the type, but then, Tony reminded himself, she didn’t carry the profile of a petty thief, either.
Shit. Tony hated being the man who tried to do the right thing.
Penelope shifted from foot to foot, glancing from him back to Hinson.
“Before I go,” Tony said, straightening his body and checking for the .22 he carried in the leg pocket of his khaki shorts, “I think you should know there’s someone else in your apartment.”
“No, there’s not,” Penelope snapped out her response.
Tony raised his brows at her defensive reaction. So she knew.
Hinson stilled the hand he’d been smoothing over Penelope’s hair. Tony read the awareness of danger in the other man’s body as he shifted onto the balls of his feet and freed his arms. He also, Tony noted, unbuttoned with a swift motion his pretty-boy jacket.
No doubt he carried a piece under that coat.
“Would you mind explaining yourself?”
Even now Hinson had to talk like an overpaid lawyer, Tony thought, then cocked his head toward the bedroom.
“There’s no one in my apartment other than the three of us.” Penelope hedged backward, moving protectively toward the bedroom door. “And if you don’t mind, Mr. Olano, that is one person too many.”
“Ooh,” Tony said, grinning at Penelope, which only seemed to set her back up more, “Sticks and stones . . .” As he spoke, he loosened the Velcro opening of his shorts pocket.
Hinson shadowed Tony’s movement toward the bedroom.
Penelope raised her hands. “Stop.” Tony detected a flush to her cheeks and a sparkly light in her eyes he could swear hadn’t been there earlier. What was she hiding? How many layers of deception did this lady have built up?
In a lazy voice, Hinson said, “Why, Penelope, what if a burglar has broken in and is hiding in your bedroom? What if there’s a desperate character in there waiting for us to leave so he can ravish you and—” He slashed a hand across his throat.
Penelope touched her shapely throat with a hand that trembled slightly. Tony saw the nervous motion and knew she was lying to them.
He exchanged looks with Hinson and nodded. As odd as it was for the two of them, enemies for life, to be acting in accord, they lunged together past Penelope and, with guns drawn, burst through the bedroom door.
Chapter 6
“Guns!” Penelope raced after the two guys. That the man with bedroom eyes wielded a gun didn’t surprise her. But David? That was so out of character she couldn’t quite grasp that he’d whipped out a gun that looked even bigger and deadlier than the one Olano had produced.
“Are you guys nuts?” Poor Mrs. Merlin! Her heart might stop from fright. It struck Penelope that she’d never be able to explain to the woman’s family that they only needed a six-inch coffin, and she bit back a hysterical laugh.
They had the closet and the bathroom door open wide. Olano had gone to his knees beside the bed. David had pulled the drapes and stood checking the windows that led to the balcony.
The cookbook and remote control lay on the bed where Penelope had left them, but no sign of the diminutive Mrs. Merlin existed. Penelope wrinkled her brow and poked the carpet with the toe of her house slipper. Had she imagined the entire incident? Had she gotten so out of control with her fantasy life that she’d created the creature in her mind and projected her into the basket of napkin rings?
Olano had risen from the floor beside her bed
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