wants! Just promise me one thing—if he does start to show an interest, keep an open mind. He might even be Mr. Right, y’know. You could end up married to the guy.”
“Aside from the fact that I’m not interested in marrying anyone, did you take a good look at him? No man who is that handsome and still single is looking for a wife.”
“So forget marriage. If you’re really attracted to him, then you should treat yourself. A nice, relaxing, torrid love affair could be exactly what you need.”
“In this day and age? Really, Rachel! We don’t know the first thing about Lucas Sinclair.”
That thought was sobering on its own, and perhaps the thing that finally convinced Rachel to drop the subject. Lucas looked healthy enough, but who could afford to take chances?
Suddenly Corrie had had enough of staring at the fire, and of futile daydreams too. It was a good thing Lucas Sinclair wasn’t trying to seduce her, she thought as she followed Rachel toward the stairs.
* * * *
Lucas hesitated, his hand raised to knock on Corrie Ballantyne’s door. He could have phoned her room. This face-to-face meeting was unnecessary. More than that, it was unwise, given the fact that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since he’d delivered her back to the hotel from the hospital.
Something about her had gotten under his skin. He wished he could figure out what it was. Maybe then he could dismiss her from his thoughts and eliminate his unwelcome fascination with a woman who was only passing through his life.
The door in front of him opened, and Corrie gasped, startled by his presence. The sudden confrontation caught him off guard as well, so that for a moment he just stood there, staring at her, bemused to discover she looked delicious even swathed from neck to midcalf in another of the colorless dresses she seemed to favor. She smelled good enough to eat too. Something with a hint of apple in it.
“Checking up on me, innkeeper?” Irritation laced her voice, once she’d recovered from her surprise.
Good thing he hadn’t been hoping she’d be pleased to see him, he thought. Aloud, he said, “Officer Tandy called. Your accident was more than a simple fall.”
At that announcement, Corrie all but dragged him into the room, shooting a quick, guilty look toward the door across the hail. “I don’t want Rachel to hear this.” She hastily closed the door behind him. “I didn’t tell her there was a possibility I was shot at. I didn’t want to worry her.”
Out of habit, Lucas surveyed the room, assessing whether the maid had been in to clean and tidy and taking note that the fruit basket he’d ordered had been delivered. That, he realized, explained the scent of apples.
His glance settled on the bed. A little later in the evening, someone would be in to turn the covers back and leave a mint on the pillow, but right now the bedspread showed the imprint of Corrie’s body, suggesting she’d taken a nap. He was suddenly intensely aware that he was staring at the place where Corrie Ballantyne would sleep that night.
“What did the police find out?” she asked, breaking in on his wayward thoughts.
“Good news.” He deliberately turned his back on the bed, only to discover he could still see it in the mirror over the dresser. “You weren’t shot. At least not by a bullet. It seems you were struck down by a rock, after all.”
Surreptitiously, he tried to get a look at the bump on her head, but she’d hidden the bandage by styling her hair a little differently. She seemed to be acting normally, he decided. A little testy, a lot sexy.
“Are you going to explain, or do I have to phone the police station for details?”
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine!” She glared at him. “Not even a headache. But you, mister, will be giving me a royal pain somewhere else if you don’t tell me what Officer Tandy discovered.”
“A ten-year-old boy was aiming at a squirrel with a slingshot. You got in the
Learning to Kill: Stories