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“I’m sorry,” he said roughly. “I think I wanted—” He swallowed.
Robin tried to lift her head. “You wanted?”
“I was being an idiot. Reading about him and thinking—”
He kept doing that. There was something he’d rather not admit.
She struggled back and Seth released her. They were left staring at each other.
“What?” Suddenly mad, she demanded, “What did you think?”
His mouth twisted. “I feel like a country hick in comparison, that’s what. I know I’m being illogical. I despise every breath the son of a bitch takes, but I didn’t like knowing—” Looking appalled, he closed his mouth and seemed to retreat without seemingly moving a muscle.
Knowing what? She couldn’t imagine.
“I can see why he impressed you.” Seth was good at the expressionless thing, except when he almost slipped.
“No. You don’t understand.” She laid a hand on his arm, which became even more rigid. “I wasn’t attracted to his wealth, or the fact that he seemed to have so much influence on a lot of important people. I detested the entertaining he took for granted we’d do, and his house—” She barely controlled another shiver. “We seemed to have so much in common. He listened to me, acted as if he respected my opinions.” If the curve of her mouth looked bitter, that was because it was. “Until he suddenly didn’t want me working, got mad at any suggestion he wasn’t enough to satisfy me. Oh, and how dare I counter his brilliant ideas? By then I’d started to wonder if political expedience wasn’t his main consideration when he took sides on issues.”
Seth didn’t say a word, but lines gathered on his forehead.
“I know you’re just doing your job.” She gestured vaguely, encompassing the sofa where he’d slept last night, the fact that he was still here. “Considering that you must still doubt everything I’ve told you, you’ve been kind and protective. Jacob doesn’t know many men, but he trusted you immediately. And you’re, well...” No way she could finish that sentence.
One eyebrow flickered. “Trustworthy. Kind. Sounds like a nice dog you adopted at the local shelter.”
“It’s not like that.” Seeing his disbelief, she blurted, “He can’t measure up to you in any way.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. Then he rolled his shoulders and said drily, “At least I don’t beat women.”
Cheeks warm, Robin mumbled, “You know that’s not what I meant.”
His eyes had never been so blue. Her heartbeat did some gymnastics while they looked at each other. He wouldn’t touch her, she knew he wouldn’t, but Robin was shaken to realize how sure she was that he wanted to.
And that she was extraordinarily tempted to take the decision out of his hands.
Chapter Eight
Seth rose abruptly from his place on the couch. “I’m going to take a look around outside.”
Sitting in a rocker, Robin had been reading—or pretending to read, just as he’d pretended to be absorbed in the news on his computer. He’d noticed she hurriedly turned a page whenever he glanced her way, and rarely in between. Now she only nodded.
He stalked through the kitchen and utility room. Neither room was lit, and Robin hadn’t turned on the porch light, either. It was a very dark night he let himself out into. Clouds had moved in earlier; now, a wind gusted through the alley and backyard. He stepped to one side of the door and waited for his eyes to adjust to the relative darkness.
In town, it was never entirely dark, of course. Halfway down the alley, light poured out of an open garage. Streetlamps stood at corners throughout the neighborhood. But the houses to each side of Robin’s were dark. Seth had sent a patrol officer to bring Iris home from the hospital earlier. She must have already gone to bed.
He walked up the alley, then back until he reached the cross street, careful not to let his booted feet crunch on the occasional gravel. Once, movement seen out of the corner of his eye had him tensing, until he saw a cat leap over a six-foot fence. His unmarked department car remained inconspicuously tucked up close to Iris’s small, detached garage.
