Part 25 (1/2)

She forced herself to put some distance between them. ”About that kiss . . .”

”You didn't like it?” He didn't give her time to answer. ”Yeah,” he said. ”I didn't like it either.”

Before she could prepare her defenses, he wrapped her in his arms, tilted her head back, and kissed her again. He was serious this time. His mouth was open and hot. How could she not respond? She felt as though she were melting under his touch, and oh it felt so right.

He ended the kiss abruptly and let go. She nearly fell backward, but he grabbed her and smiled. ”I like that a lot better.”

One kiss and he'd turned her mind into mush. ”I don't know how you do it,” she whispered hoa.r.s.ely.

”That's an easy one. I lean in, and my mouth presses against yours, and my tongue-”

”Oh, for heaven's sake. I'm not asking you how to kiss. I just mean that I don't know how you can so easily make me-”

He beat her to the punch. ”Want more?”

”Fl.u.s.tered.” She nearly shouted the word. ”You make me fl.u.s.tered.”

”Good to know.”

This time she watched him walk into the bathroom and shut the door. She tried to summon up a frown, to work up a little anger. Self-preservation. That's what it was, she thought. If she could hide behind anger, she wouldn't have to face the truth.

A smile came unbidden, and she was suddenly weak-kneed. She sat on the bed and fell back against the pillows. It was odd, the thoughts that came into your mind when you weren't blocking them. She pictured Dylan lecturing Isabel and instructing her. He'd been so caring with her.

He'd been caring with Kate, too. She remembered the way he'd held her in his arms while she'd wept against his shoulder . . . the way he'd touched her . . .

There was so much more to Dylan than his relentless teasing during those pickup football games on Nathan's Bay. He was strong, and yet he could be very gentle. He was decisive, but still he took time to listen. He was kind and smart and s.e.xy and . . .

”Oh, no,” she groaned. She was in love with him.

The truth stunned her. When had this terrible thing happened to her? She tried but couldn't come up with a defining moment. She had a feeling that it would take years of therapy to figure this one out.

Of all the men in the world she could have fallen in love with, she had to pick Mr. Love-'em-and-leave-'em. She groaned again.

All things considered, however, she thought she was taking the realization quite well. She wasn't running down the hallways screaming or tearing her hair out.

She wasn't jumping up and down with joy, either. But then why should she? She'd lost her frickin' mind.

She reached for the phone to call Jordan. It was an automatic reaction to want to talk to her best friend and pour her heart out. Then she remembered she couldn't call anyone now and knew she shouldn't anyway because Dylan was Jordan's brother. It just wouldn't be right to scream and carry on.

She would have to suffer in silence. She rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in her pillow, thinking that if a scream escaped, the pillow would m.u.f.fle the sound.

”Kate, are you trying to suffocate yourself?”

Now that's a plan. She was laughing when she sat up. ”I always put a pillow over my face when I'm thinking.”

He was wearing a pair of khaki shorts that rode low on his hips. They were zipped but not b.u.t.toned. His stomach was flat, hard. He didn't bother with a T-s.h.i.+rt. He was s.e.xy, no doubt about it. She refused to look into his eyes, fearing he'd know he was getting to her.

She grabbed the notepad from the bedside table and a pen. ”I'm going to write down the names of the people I think would like to kill me.”

He stretched out on the bed, adjusted the pillows, and stacked his hands behind his head. ”Wouldn't it be quicker to write down the names of the people who don't want to kill you?”

”That's not funny,” she said. ”People enjoy my company. They do,” she insisted when she thought he looked skeptical.

”I sure enjoyed you.”

She wasn't in the mood for teasing. Ignoring him seemed to be the only logical course of action. Kate began to write names, and in no time at all, she'd filled two pages and was working on a third. She suddenly stopped. She was struck by what she was doing, and why. Granted, the notepad was small, but still, two and a half pages? Oh, dear Lord.

”Kate, what's the matter?”

”It just hit me . . . what I'm doing. If someone a month ago had told me I would be making this kind of a list, I wouldn't have believed him. Good heavens, Dylan,” she cried out, ”look at all these names.”

He rolled to his side to face her. ”You aren't going to panic on me, are you? You're safe now. Right this minute you're safe. Concentrate on that.”

She rolled her eyes. ”I'm not freaking out, so you can stop talking to me in that keep-her-calm-until-we-get-the-straitjacket-on-her voice. It all sort of overwhelmed me for a moment, that's all. Two shocks in one night . . .”

”What do you mean, two?”

He would have to zoom in on that slip, wouldn't he? Realizing she loved him was a bigger jolt to her system than her long list of suspects. Maybe because the truth had snuck up on her and then . . . boom. boom.

”Kate?”

”It's work related,” she lied. She rotated her pen between her fingers while she once again concentrated on the list. ”I'm not going to sleep until I've crossed off at least one of these names. I'd feel like I was making some progress,” she explained before he could ask a third time. ”You could help, you know.”

He was on his back again staring at the ceiling. He looked half asleep.

She thought he was ignoring her until he said, ”I guess you could cross off the artist, Oregano.”

”Cinnamon,” she corrected. ”Her name is Cinnamon. I'll bet she'll be devastated to know the explosion wasn't meant to kill her. She was getting a lot of mileage out of the publicity.” She sighed as she added, ”I didn't put her name on my list so I can't cross her off.”

She read him the names she'd written. All of the MacKenna brothers made her list, and she had even included Anderson and his a.s.sistant. She couldn't remember his name.

”Terrance,” he supplied.

”I honestly don't think Anderson or Terrance or Vanessa MacKenna is involved, but I included them because they were in the office when the video was played. I also put Carl's name on the list, but I can surely cross him off, can't I?”

”No, you can't. He's guilty until proven innocent.”

”That's not how it works. It's the other way around.”

”Not when it comes to your life. He's involved in some way,” he added. ”I just don't know how yet.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and studied her list for another minute or two.

She couldn't believe she'd forgotten to add Jackman. She wrote the name and was putting the pen down when he added, ”And his a.s.sociates.”

She was becoming more and more frustrated. ”I'm going to put a name down and then I'm going to cross him off, got that? What about Reece? Should I put him on the list?”