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“A few now and then.”
“Most men don’t.”
He made a dismissive gesture. “Their loss, I guess. You write a good story, lots of action.
Sometimes I find it hard to believe they’re written by a woman.”
“I’m not sure how you meant that, but I think I’ll take it as a compliment.”
“I hope so because that’s how I meant it. So, the man who was with you. Anything serious going on there?”
Shannah hesitated, not sure how to answer that.
“Don’t you know?” he asked with a grin.
“It could become serious,” she replied, “but it’s not now.” She smiled her thanks at the waitress who brought their drinks.
He grunted softly. “So, who is he? Your agent?”
“More like my publicist.” Strange, she thought, that Jim and Overstreet both seemed more interested in Ronan than in her. “He arranged my tour.”
“I see.”
She frowned. “I’m not sure I like what you think you see.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it. Just trying to find out how involved you are with him.”
“I really don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“No, I guess not.” He sat back in his seat. “I’m sorry if I came on too strong. It’s just that I find you attractive and intriguing. And that’s rare these days.”
“Thank you.” Sipping her drink, she gazed out the window. The sun was setting in the distance.
She wondered if Ronan was back at the hotel.
“Any chance I could take you out to dinner tonight?”
“No, I don’t think so.” She took another sip of her drink, then set the glass aside. “I’d better go.
He’ll be waiting for me.”
“All right.” Jim quickly drained his glass and left some money on the table.
Shannah hurried toward the door, acutely conscious that he was behind her. She was suddenly uncomfortable without knowing why.
“Would you like me to drive you back to your hotel?” he asked.
“No, thank you. I’ll get a cab.”
“It’s no trouble.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“All right, Miss Black. It was nice meeting you.”
“Thank you for the drink. Good-bye.”
She watched him walk back toward the bookstore, relieved to be alone.
Ronan was waiting for her when she reached her room at the hotel. “You’re late,” he said, his voice deceptively mild.
“Hello to you, too,” she said, dropping her handbag on the table.
“Where have you been?”
“I went out for a drink when I left the bookstore. Is that all right with you?”
He took a deep breath, let it out in a long slow sigh. “I’m sorry, Shannah. How did the signing go?”
“It was good. Not quite as many people as last night, but they sold most of the books they had so…” She shrugged. “The manager asked me to sign the leftover stock.”
Nodding, he closed the distance between them, his nostrils flaring. “Who were you with?”
“Lots of people.”
“No.” He inhaled deeply. “You were with two men.”
Shannah felt a guilty flush heat her cheeks. “How do you know?”
“I know. Who were they?”
“One was a reporter. Carl something or other.” Rummaging in her handbag, she pulled his card out and handed it to Ronan. “He asked a lot of questions about you.”
Ronan glanced at the card, then dropped it on the coffee table. “What did he look like?”
Shannah shrugged. “Short, dumpy. Thick glasses. He wasn’t Clark Kent, I can tell you that.”
“And the other man?”
“He seemed nice enough. He took me out for a drink. I didn’t see any harm in it.”
“Who was he?”
She shrugged. “He said his name was Jim. Just another one of your many fans. He was at the signing last night, too.”
Ronan’s eyes narrowed ominously. “Describe him.”
“He’s a little taller than I am, with blond hair and….” Shannah’s eyes widened as she suddenly remembered where she had seen him before. “Of course! He was the man on the curb across from the photographer’s studio. I thought he looked familiar!”
Hands clenching at his sides, Ronan swore a vile oath.
“You said he isn’t a friend of yours, so who is he?” Shannah asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Ronan replied curtly. Jim Hewitt was a vampire hunter. He hailed from Nevada, which begged the question—what the hell had he been doing in North Canyon Creek, and why was he now in Los Angeles? Ronan didn’t like the answer that quickly came to mind.
“Did you tell him where you’re staying?”
“No.”
“Did he follow you here?”
“I don’t think so. It was just a drink. What’s the big deal?”
“Nothing.”
“Yeah, right. What’s wrong? Who is this guy? Why are you so upset?”
“It’s nothing for you to worry about. Have you had dinner?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“He’s someone I know. Someone I don’t want to see. Someone I don’t want you to see again.”
“Well, since we’re leaving town tomorrow night, that shouldn’t be a problem. I’m going to order some dinner and take a bath. I don’t suppose you want me to order anything for you?”
“I’ve already dined.”
“Of course. I keep forgetting you like to eat in private.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, she kicked off her shoes, then picked up the phone and ordered a shrimp dinner, a piece of lemon meringue pie, and a glass of iced tea.
Hanging up the phone, she looked at Ronan. “I’m going to take a bath now.”
He nodded, then murmured, “Ah, I guess you want me to leave.”
“Good guess. Maybe we can watch some TV later.”
“Call me when you’re ready.”
“All right.”
Drawing her into his arms, he kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry for being such an ass.
Forgive me?”
“I guess so,” she said with a sigh. “But, geez, chill out, will ya?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, laughing. “I’ll chill out.”
Still laughing, he went into his own room and shut the door. She really was too young for him, he thought, and in more ways than just her age, but she was still the most delightful creature he had ever known.
