the Georgetown house my second day back. I was a bit surprised by that myself,” she added thoughtfully. “I told them I was tired of the city and needed a break. They didn’t ask for a further explanation, because they know the real reason. That I want to be here and close to Daddy until he dies. But it’s better for all of us that I have my own place.”
She got up and went to a bar built into the opposite wall. “Water?”
“Sure.”
She carried a bottle to him and uncapped one for herself as she returned to her place on the sofa. Dent sat back down in the chair. “How long ago was this?”
“Three weeks, give or take. When I left New York, I thought I was leaving behind a stalker. For lack of a better word. Someone who bore a grudge, or someone I’d unintentionally slighted.”
When she paused, he leaned forward again. “But?”
She chafed her arms. “But I’ve often got the feeling that I’m being watched. Followed. At first I passed it off. The rat incident had put all these melodramatic scenarios in my head, made me jittery, paranoid. Then, about a week ago, someone broke into my car while I was in the supermarket. Nothing was taken, but I almost wish something had been.”
“Maybe the would-be thief was interrupted. He popped the door lock but got scared and ran off.”
She shook her head. “He got into the car. I sensed it immediately. The interior smelled like sweat. BO.” It made her nauseous to think about it even now.
Dent frowned. “He only wanted to violate your space. Spook you.”
“Which is more sinister than a theft.”
He sat back in the chair and took several swallows of water. As he replaced the bottle cap he asked, “No idea who this smelly creep is?”
“No. But as you said last night, it must be someone who dislikes my book. Intensely.” She looked away but was unable to hide her guilty expression.
“Oh, I get it now,” he said, drawing the words out. “You thought it was
me
. That’s why you booked the charter. All that bullshit about wanting to see how I had fared was just that. Bullshit. You wanted to see if I was your evil prankster.”
“Dent, I—”
“Save it,” he said angrily, coming out of the chair. “No wonder you fold up like a daylily every time I get too close. You’re afraid I’m about to pounce.” He gave her a scathing look. “Just for the record, I haven’t been to New York lately. I wouldn’t touch a rat, dead or alive. Most days I shower and use deodorant, and I sure as hell couldn’t have been in two places at once yesterday. I was in Houston with you, not back here in your bedroom. And if my hands are ever on your panties, believe me, it won’t be for painting.”
She felt the heat rising in her cheeks and cursed her tendency to blush.
A long silence ensued while waves of anger radiated off him. Finally she said quietly, “Are you finished?”
“More to the point, are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Here.” He gestured to encompass the room. “Are you finished with what you came to do?”
“Yes,” she replied, somewhat warily. “Why?”
He reached down and encircled her biceps with his hand, pulling her up off the sofa. “The people who’d be upset over your book is a short list. I want to go back to your house, see it in daylight, see if we can pick up a clue to identify the villain.”
Bellamy put up token resistance, but actually that was what she had intended to do without him, so she let herself be propelled from the office. Once they were inside the elevator, he asked if she’d had an update from Houston and when she told him no, he said that was probably good news.
The banal conversation got them through the awkward confinement and to the ground level.
Outside, the sun was so bright it momentarily blinded her, so she didn’t see Rocky Van Durbin until he was standing directly in her path.
“Hello, Ms. Price. Long time no see.” He smirked at her, then gave Dent a slow once-over. Hitching his
She got up and went to a bar built into the opposite wall. “Water?”
“Sure.”
She carried a bottle to him and uncapped one for herself as she returned to her place on the sofa. Dent sat back down in the chair. “How long ago was this?”
“Three weeks, give or take. When I left New York, I thought I was leaving behind a stalker. For lack of a better word. Someone who bore a grudge, or someone I’d unintentionally slighted.”
When she paused, he leaned forward again. “But?”
She chafed her arms. “But I’ve often got the feeling that I’m being watched. Followed. At first I passed it off. The rat incident had put all these melodramatic scenarios in my head, made me jittery, paranoid. Then, about a week ago, someone broke into my car while I was in the supermarket. Nothing was taken, but I almost wish something had been.”
“Maybe the would-be thief was interrupted. He popped the door lock but got scared and ran off.”
She shook her head. “He got into the car. I sensed it immediately. The interior smelled like sweat. BO.” It made her nauseous to think about it even now.
Dent frowned. “He only wanted to violate your space. Spook you.”
“Which is more sinister than a theft.”
He sat back in the chair and took several swallows of water. As he replaced the bottle cap he asked, “No idea who this smelly creep is?”
“No. But as you said last night, it must be someone who dislikes my book. Intensely.” She looked away but was unable to hide her guilty expression.
“Oh, I get it now,” he said, drawing the words out. “You thought it was
me
. That’s why you booked the charter. All that bullshit about wanting to see how I had fared was just that. Bullshit. You wanted to see if I was your evil prankster.”
“Dent, I—”
“Save it,” he said angrily, coming out of the chair. “No wonder you fold up like a daylily every time I get too close. You’re afraid I’m about to pounce.” He gave her a scathing look. “Just for the record, I haven’t been to New York lately. I wouldn’t touch a rat, dead or alive. Most days I shower and use deodorant, and I sure as hell couldn’t have been in two places at once yesterday. I was in Houston with you, not back here in your bedroom. And if my hands are ever on your panties, believe me, it won’t be for painting.”
She felt the heat rising in her cheeks and cursed her tendency to blush.
A long silence ensued while waves of anger radiated off him. Finally she said quietly, “Are you finished?”
“More to the point, are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Here.” He gestured to encompass the room. “Are you finished with what you came to do?”
“Yes,” she replied, somewhat warily. “Why?”
He reached down and encircled her biceps with his hand, pulling her up off the sofa. “The people who’d be upset over your book is a short list. I want to go back to your house, see it in daylight, see if we can pick up a clue to identify the villain.”
Bellamy put up token resistance, but actually that was what she had intended to do without him, so she let herself be propelled from the office. Once they were inside the elevator, he asked if she’d had an update from Houston and when she told him no, he said that was probably good news.
The banal conversation got them through the awkward confinement and to the ground level.
Outside, the sun was so bright it momentarily blinded her, so she didn’t see Rocky Van Durbin until he was standing directly in her path.
“Hello, Ms. Price. Long time no see.” He smirked at her, then gave Dent a slow once-over. Hitching his
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