evidence of his unsated arousal as he hoisted himself up. Standing, he seemed even more powerful. Almost a head taller, his great, brawny chest filled her vision. She wanted to pull off his open, soaked shirt for a better view but knew that would be courting trouble. Let it drip on the already wet floor, she decided.
Refusing herself the temptation to stroke his chest— or the greater temptation that resided lower—Lori quickly handed him a nearby towel.
"What in the bloody blazes is this?" he asked, staring at the big pink flamingo printed in the center of the terry cloth.
Tell him, dammit, just tell him the year 2000 is just around the bend and neon's in . "It's—it came from France with my pantalets."
Brrinng. Brrrinng.
"That sound, what is it?"
"It's, uh..." The phone quit ringing. Cursing herself for a coward, Lori said in a rush, "my clock chiming. It came from France, too."
Noble's brow furrowed. "It would seem that you have an uncommon number of imported possessions. Was your husband a smuggler, perchance?"
"No, he was—" A policeman. What did they call policemen in Noble's day? Since she had no idea, Lori ad-libbed. "Like you, he was involved with the law." Good, she thought. Lawyers and policemen had plenty of contact with each other.
"Ah, now I begin to understand why you so generously took me in. However, I'm greatly puzzled why Attu failed to mention your acquaintance to me. Were you just recently introduced?" At her quick nod, he said, "that is my good fortune," and turned his attention to the task of drying off, briskly, as if he were in a hurry.
Lori told herself to go change, but she remained rooted in place, watching him sweep the cloth over his magnificent chest. Noble looked up. An intimate smile framed his lips as he caught her artlessly gawking.
"How thoughtless of me. Seeing to myself while you shiver." Ever so softly he caressed the towel over her cheeks, her neck, and then the wet fabric clinging to her arms. "My lady... Lori. Leaving you will be enormously difficult for me. Nevertheless, I've stayed too long. I'll accept your offer of clothing and a bowl of soup. Should you have jerky or dried fruit you can spare me, I'll be most grateful. Even more so for the loan of a horse."
"Anything that I've got, you can have. But—"
"It is you whom I want. I must see you again, and when I do—soon, very soon—it will be with the most honorable of intentions. For now, however, I have no choice but to leave. Attu's life might very well hang in the balance."
Steeling herself, Lori said somberly, "I hate to tell you this, Noble, believe me I do. But you have no reason to leave. Your friend Attu, he's dead." And all the other friends and family you once had. How could she possibly tell him something so devastating, heap heartache on top of the heartache she witnessed now?
A sharp, tortured sound caught in Noble's throat. His eyes grew misty, the color of an overcast sky. Then swiftly his gaze hardened and his eyes turned a chilling shade of cold steel. His soft touch to her arm became a hard clench. Gone was the gentleman of refinement. This man was scary.
"I'm really sorry about your friend, Noble," Lori said, her voice trembling.
"Not half as sorry as the bastards who took him down will be. Once I'm done with them, they'll consider hell a merciful reprieve."
From the brutal rage marring his face, Lori knew that whoever those bastards were, they were lucky to be dead already. She wondered how a man of such breeding, a lawyer, had come to make dangerous enemies— who couldn't be half as dangerous as Noble clearly was himself.
Would he direct some of that terrible anger toward her in response to the shattering news she had to give? Quite possibly he would. But if she could connect with him on a deeper level first, forge a sense of kinship, surely he would be less upset. With that hope, she opened herself to him, let him touch a very private part of herself, a part that understood the