The Morning After

“I’m sorry. It’s just a little odd. You don’t seem to be the claw-foot type.” As if she had any idea what type he might be.

His gaze caught hers. For a moment a storm threatened in his eyes, then he cocked his head and seemed to relax. “Perhaps I’m not.”

“Oh.” She waited with bated breath, but he didn’t elaborate.

Did the woman in the picture collect the antiques and knickknacks? If so, where was she now? Was she the cause of Cain’s pain?

And exactly what would you do about it if she were?

The doorbell saved Nikki from further speculation. Ginger Parker arrived in a bluster of apologies and out of breath, her blue-gray hair tousled by the wind. “I’m so sorry I kept you waiting.”

She patted her hair in place and turned to Cain. “Thank you for letting Ms. McClellan in.”

He nodded toward the study on the opposite side of the foyer. “No problem. I was just working.”

“Oh, well, we’ll let you get back to it then. Don’t mind us. We’ll just poke around on our own.” Ginger shooed him toward the study.

Dylan hesitated. His gaze swung over his prospective buyer. She was quite attractive with her brown eyes and coffee-colored hair. She had a sturdy build, not too thin, but she seemed unsteady at the moment. He’d made her uncomfortable somehow. She looked…upset.

“Ginger has been through already. She previewed the house a couple of days ago,” he said, wanting to reassure the woman. “You’re in safe hands, Ms. McClellan.”

“Oh, please call me Nikki.”

“Nikki then.” He extended his hand. “And I’m Dylan.”

“Yes, Dylan it is.” She placed her hand in his.

Warmth surged through him. Not just the tingling heat of sexual awareness—though that was there, too, which surprised him. Sure, on those rare occasions when Steven Benson, his lifelong friend, had dragged him out, he’d felt the odd passing attraction. But nothing like this.

Earlier in the garden, Nikki’s lush figure and sparkling eyes had had his mind wandering along lustful paths he hadn’t pondered in a very long time. Now her warmth enveloped him in comfort and ease. As he looked into her eyes, serenity such as he had not known these past two years descended on him. Her gaze softened, and he could no more look away than he could let go of her hand. He fought the alarming urge to sweep her into his arms.

What had come over him and who was this woman?

Ginger cleared her throat. “Shall we?”

Nikki glanced away, breaking the spell. She pulled her hand from his as pink blossomed in her cheeks. “Yes, of course. So far I love it. It’s certainly more house than I’d anticipated.”

“Let’s start with the study, then we can let Dylan get back to work.” Ginger ushered her client in that direction.

Dylan followed, staring blankly at the papers on his desk. What had he been working on? A haze clouded his mind. He turned and nearly collided with Nikki.

“Now this is your room.” Appreciation shone in her dark eyes as she took in the solid-oak furnishings and cluttered tabletops. Papers and files pertaining to the fraud case he was working on covered nearly every available space.

“I…this is where I work when I’m home. I like it to be…utilitarian.” In fact, it was the one room Kathy had had no interest in.

“Dylan’s an attorney.” Ginger rubbed her hands together. “He’s defending Councilman Weatherby. Imagine, one of Miami’s finest citizens on trial like a common criminal. You’ll get him off, won’t you, Dylan? I can’t believe George has done a dishonest thing in his life.”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss the case. The local media is having a field day with it as it is.”

“Yes.” Nikki cocked her head. “I believe I did read something about it. I’m sorry. I don’t follow the news as closely as I should. I spend my days doctoring furry critters, then fall into bed exhausted at night. I don’t know where the time goes.”

“You’re a veterinarian?” Dylan almost smiled, picturing the lovely brunette with her “critters.”

“Yes, I am. I’ve always gotten along better with animals than people.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

It was a full bottom lip. Luscious. Made for kissing.

“Nikki has her own clinic in Bay Heights,” Ginger said.

Dylan forced himself to look away from Nikki. Guilt filled him. What had made him think of kissing her? Had the woman bewitched him? He cleared his throat. “Bay Heights. That wouldn’t be a far drive.”

“No, not at all.” Nikki turned to Ginger. “I’m anxious to see the rest of the house.”

“Of course you are, hon. Dylan, if you’ll excuse us…”

“Certainly. Make yourselves at home. Just let me know if you have any questions.”

Nikki glanced back, smiling as they left the room, and he stilled the urge to follow. “Briefs,” he muttered as he sat at his desk. “Where was I?”

He consulted the notes he’d been scribbling when Ginger had called. “Right, finance summaries.”

With quick motions he punched a number into his phone. After four rings, the message center on the other end picked up. He waited patiently for the beep, then said, “Evelyn, if you have them ready, I could really use those summaries on the Weatherby finances. In particular, I’m looking for September and October of last year. Give me a call if you have them, or just fax them over. Thanks.”

He exhaled and focused on the file in front of him, immersing himself in his work. The accountants were going over every detail, but he needed to understand where the councilman stood himself. Though all the columns in Weatherby’s P&L added up, Dylan’s sixth sense told him all wasn’t as it appeared to be.

A short while later, Nikki’s musical laughter floated down from the upstairs, shattering his concentration. He tossed down his pen. He had purposely left the office and all its distractions to work at home this afternoon. Now how was he supposed to get any work done with all of this racket in the house?

After another moment of staring blankly at the page in front of him, he gave up all pretense of working. He stood, then went in search of the pair.

He found them in the guest room. Sebastian, Kathy’s orange tabby, had draped himself unceremoniously across Nikki’s shoulders. Dylan paused a moment, not breathing. Since Kathy’s death, the cat hadn’t let anyone pet him, let alone pick him up—not even Dylan.

Nikki turned. Her smile faded. “Your housemate found us.”

Ginger ruffled the cat’s ear and he hissed at her. “Oh my, he hasn’t any use for me, though he climbed right up there. Seems to have taken a liking to Nikki.”

“He doesn’t like most people.” Dylan took a shaky breath. Showing the house was turning out to be harder than he’d expected. He stepped forward to take the cat, but Sebastian growled and leaped to the floor.

“Ow!” Nikki clamped her hand to her collarbone.

“Did he scratch you?” Dylan asked.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s bleeding.” Ginger’s eyebrows formed a deep V.

“Let me see.” The softness of Nikki’s hand plagued him as he moved it aside to see the double slash where Sebastian’s claws had marked her. “I’m sorry. I’ll get something for that.”

She waved aside his efforts. “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”