restlessly through her hair. The provoking question her mind had mocked her with was hardly conducive to her getting much sleep at all that night if she decided to explore it, she realised. Yet she couldn’t deny that the man disturbed her. He made her more aware of her femininity than any other man had ever done before...especially when he kissed her! The fact that he had a broken leg and was irritable and frustrated by his resultant immobility didn’t make Kit any less aware of the man’s undoubted charisma and sex appeal. But then, when she recalled that Hal had told her at the interview that he might need to call on her for company at night if he couldn’t sleep, her heart skipped an anxious beat. People were apt to let their guard down more during the night-time hours . What would they talk about? Kit wouldn’t dream of betraying any confidences he might share, but at the same time she hoped he wouldn’t expect her to reveal any of her own. She’d never been at all easy talking about her past, and whenever it arose she’d developed a strategy of automatically glossing over the details and then acting as if it was hardly of any consequence. ‘The past is in the past and that’s where it should stay,’ she’d comment, endeavouring for a blithe, cheery tone. Would Hal Treverne break her cover and intuit that her guard was as strong as a portcullis slamming down to keep out the enemy if he should veer into that particular territory? And would he wonder why she was so reluctant to talk about it? Only tonight he’d vowed to talk to her about what had made her ‘so eminently sensible’ she recalled. His resolution had made her understandably anxious at the idea of even briefly having to revisit the circumstances and events that had shaped her. To discuss her past with him might threaten to open a can of worms that wouldn’t easily be closed... It could also undo the self-confidence she’d built up over the past few years since working for the agency. It might even destroy it completely . Making an abrupt decision to deal with whatever should transpire and not allow it to make her flustered, Kit resignedly combed her fingers through her freed mane of silken copper hair once again and lay back down. Deciding to draw upon the sheer determination and pragmatism she usually utilised to get her through life’s challenges, she promised herself she would have a far less troubling day tomorrow, come what may. And on that reassuring note she finally allowed her eyes to drift closed... * * * The surprising realisation that hit Hal on opening his eyes the next morning was that for the first time since the accident he had astonishingly experienced an unbroken night’s sleep. He’d slept through the night without waking even once. Barely able to believe it, he sat upright, bemusedly scrubbed his hand round his studded jaw and then pushed back the duvet. Yes, he’d taken two strong painkillers before retiring, but they had never worked as effectively before. Had his redheaded guardian angel put some kind of spell on him? Glancing down at his injured leg, he saw that even the swelling on his damaged knee had diminished a little. That stupid fall of his last night hadn’t hurt him at all. But it had acted as a warning to him not to refuse Kit’s help when he needed it all because he was striving to be so damn independent! From now on he would endeavour to be more sensible. His swift recovery so that he could return to his busy life depended on it. Although he had a bevy of reliable people working for him, he wouldn’t be happy until he was back at the helm overseeing things and feeling satisfied that everything was being done properly and to the high standards he expected. A short while after he had washed and dressed there was a knock on the door and his intention to be sensible was immediately put to the test as Kit came in, pushing his wheelchair. This morning she was wearing mouth-wateringly fitted blue jeans