Heart of Ice

There was a loud knock at the door an hour later, and when she opened it, Egan was standing there looking faintly amused and as immaculate as when he’d left. Still in the same clothes, of course….

She glared at him. “Lose your key?” she asked.

“I thought I’d better not use it, in case you were…entertaining,” he said.

She let him in, slammed the door and went back to her comfortable sprawl on the floor.

“Coffee’s hot if you want some,” she said icily. “I’m busy reading.”

“Don’t let me interrupt you. I thought I’d have a quick shower and change clothes. I’ve got a lunch date.”

Why, oh, why did she feel like smashing plates? She frowned and concentrated on what she was doing. Minutes later, he was back, dressed in a navy blue pinstripe suit with a white silk shirt and a blue and burgundy tie. He looked regal. Sexy. Unbelievably handsome for such an ugly man. If he was dressing like that in the middle of the day, he must be on his way to the Waldorf, she thought. And God only knew with whom.

“Ada didn’t worry, did she?” he asked, checking his watch.

“Oh, no. She’s used to people staying out all night,” she lied deliberately, lifting her eyes. It shocked her, the flash of reaction in his face before it was quickly erased.

His eyes ran over her: the gray slacks and burgundy silk blouse she was wearing, her feet hose-clad and without shoes. Her hair was loose, and flowed in waves of reddish gold silk down her shoulders; her face was rosy and full of life.

His scrutiny made her nervous, and she dropped her eyes back to the page she was reading.