Kate eased back from the bedroom door. Better to be safe than sorry, she decided.
She retreated to her closet, then she went to her dresser, gathering clothing. She was not going to bounce back and forth between the bedroom and the bath with a towel wrapped around her. It was best to set a precedent, she thought, right here, right now. Who knew how much longer this situation would be necessary?
After she showered and had gotten dressed she tiptoed into the living room, past the sofa, then she stopped and stared. He was laying on his back. His right arm was flung over his eyes.
He had taken his shirt off.
Oh, my, Kate murmured. The arm heaved over his face was corded and looked strong. She hadnt realized last night just howwell, muscled he was.
He hadnt used the sheet shed given him. He still had his jeans on, and she was very grateful for that. But the snap was open, and the dark golden hair on his chest tapered down, narrowing into a V until it disappeared beneath the denim. Kate took in a deep breath and ran a finger under her collar. She took a step backward from the sofa, then two. Coffee. She needed coffee. Now.
She squared her shoulders and turned for the kitchen. Then she stared at her counter, and a sound of pure distress caught in her throat.
There was a carton of milk sitting out. A whole half gallon. And it was the good stuff, too, not two percent, not skim, but the carton she used in recipes. Her gaze flew around the kitchen. She knew every move he had made by the time she breathed again.
There were rye crumbs on the counter. His cell phone sat beside them. She hurried around the breakfast bar and yanked open the refrigerator door. Within another thirty seconds, she knew that both her roast beef and the horseradish sauce had been decimated.
That didnt particularly bother her. She cooked for others to enjoy, after all. But the waste infuriated hera perfectly good half gallon of milk!
What have you done?
Her cry went through Raphaels unconscious like a jet breaking the sound barrier. It boomed his heart into sudden overdrive. He rolled and groped beneath the sofa for the gun he had tucked there after removing it from his waistband last night. When he landed on his feet,
he was armed. What?
Astonishmentand maybe just a little fearpunched the air right out of Kates chest. Put that away!
Raphael looked around. There was no one in the apartment but them. What? he asked again.
Thatthat weapon!
Raphael looked down at himself. Sleep tried to cling to his mind like a sticky spiderweb, making his thoughts track too slowly. Its been called a lot of things but
The gun! Are you crazy? What kind of person are you?
Raphael finally came fully awake. Me? What the hell did you scream for?
I want a new baby-sitter. She turned her back on him smartlyhe doubted if a trained cadet could pivot quite that cleanlyand went to the kitchen. She grabbed the telephone on the wall.
Your hairs sticking straight up from your head.
Kate gave a cry and dropped the phone. She plastered both hands to her skull. Of course it was. Shed stuck her fingers into it in dismay when shed seen the mess hed made of her kitchen.
She smoothed her hair frantically, then was appalled to realize that she even cared what he thought. She dropped her hands.
One wild curl had escaped her effort, he realized. It made him itch to touch it, to see if it would wrap around his finger with a life of its own. He was losing his mind.
I dont want you here, she said.
Yeah. Weve been all through that. He snapped his jeans and tucked the gun into them at his back.
Kate struggled for reason. I understand that the authorities think Im in danger, but I want them to send someone else to protect me. Clearly, this isnt going to work.
Something vaguely uncomfortable gripped Raphaels stomach. He told himself it was just the way she talked. It was really starting to get to him. Clearly Then again, hed rarely been vetoed by any woman, for any reason on any job.
Why not? he heard himself ask.
Youreyoure Kate crossed her arms over her chest and wished he would put a shirt on. Chaos, she finished.
Im chaos? You screamed.
You wasted a whole half gallon of milk while I slept! And you woke up and pointed a gun at me!
I thought you were in danger!
Why on earth would you think that?
Because you were caterwauling!
This time he could almost predict what she would do before it happened. That sniff. The immediate hoisting of her shoulders. I was not caterwauling.
You sounded like a cat with its tail trapped in a door.
Color flooded her cheeks. Raphael watched the phenomenon.
Then, finally, for the first time, he noticed the way she was dressed. She wore khaki slacks, socks and neatly laced sneakers. This was topped by a white turtleneck, albeit a sleeveless one. Except for her arms, every inch of skin from her chin on down was covered, laced, pressed, creased. She looked as though she had been up for hours already.
Raphael glanced at his watch. It was only twenty after six.
He scrubbed his face with his hands. He needed a shower and a shave. Of course, he had nothing with him to shave with, and she definitely didnt seem the type to keep an extra razor on hand for unexpected male guests. Let her call Plattsmier, he thought. The department was full of by-the-book rookies who would put her milk carton away after they drank from it, and theyd both be a hell of a lot happier if one of them was assigned to her. But Raphael doubted if any of them had ticked off the commissioner just lately, or if they knew a blessed thing about Philadelphias organized crime netherworld.