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explained. “But I couldn’t leave it out in the cold rain. It’s so tiny.”
    That was when he really began to have doubts about Noreen’s part in Isadora’s death. He couldn’t drag his eyes away from the tiny kitten in her arms. She had a soft heart. People were forever imposing on her, because she was a sucker for a sob story. Her aunt used to complain about the number of stray animals Noreen would bring home, which had to be properly treated and then given to good homes. Her aunt and uncle didn’t approve of pets, so Noreen was never allowed to have any. But that didn’t stop her from rescuing the downtrodden of the animal population.
    What bothered him about that memory was what it told him about her. She wouldn’t even abandon a stray kitten to its fate, so what in the world ever made him think that she’d sacrifice a cousin whom she loved?It was so out of character that he was amazed at how easily he’d blamed her for Isadora’s death.
    She noticed the sudden paleness of Ramon’s face under his swarthy tan and she clutched the kitten closer.
    â€œWhat do you want?” she asked with accusing eyes. “I’m very tired and I want to go to sleep.”
    He studied her through different eyes. Her face was wan and there were bright patches on her cheeks. Her breath was erratic, quick. He could see her heart beating against the fabric of the robe, erratically. Something was wrong here.
    â€œHave you seen a doctor?”
    â€œFor a virus?” She laughed, bluffing. “Why would I bother a doctor with something that will wear itself out?”
    â€œI have my bag down in the car,” he began.
    Her already erratic heart went wild at just the thought of having him listen to her chest. “I have a doctor of my own,” she said through her teeth. “And why do you think I’d let you examine me, even if I were dying?” she added bitterly. “I’d never trust you with a scalpel in your hand. The temptation might be too much for you!”
    His sharp intake of breath was audible. “How dare you!” he said through his teeth.
    She was too sick to be intimidated by that black glare. “I’m tired,” she said, backing up a step. “Would you please go away and let me sleep?”
    He hesitated. Something was wrong, and she didn’t trust him enough to tell him what it was. He was suddenly less self-assured. He felt guilty, though God knew why he should. He looked at her with open curiosity, seeing the thinness of her, the dark circles under her eyes.
    â€œYou’re ill,” he exclaimed softly, as if just realizing it.
    â€œI’m tired,” she repeated. “I got out of bed too soon after a viral infection, and I did too much. I’ll be fine tomorrow. I don’t need a doctor to tell me that, either.”
    Her cheekbones were high. She had a lovely mouth, just the right shape and size. Her skin was creamy and faintly flushed. He noted that her hair was in a long pigtail down her back, and he wondered again what it would look like if she freed it.
    â€œPlease go,” she repeated nervously.
    He didn’t want to leave. He was genuinely worried about her. “Get a checkup, at least,” he said.
    â€œI’ll gladly do that, but not tonight. Now, can I please go to bed…?”
    He made a rough sound and turned on his heel. “If you don’t feel better in the morning, stay home,” he said gruffly.
    â€œDon’t presume to give me orders,” she said calmly. “I’ll do what I please.”
    He glanced over his shoulder at her. She’d blended into the woodwork for most of the time he’d known her. But nothing could disguise the fact that she was a woman, with spirit and independence and intelligence. Isadora had yielded to his will, flattered his ego, stroked his passions at first until she obsessed him. But she hadn’t been intelligent and