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Of all the nerve—he obviously assumed she’d been hitting on him. She didn’t play those kinds of games. Had she wanted his phone number for any other reason, she would have told him so.
No, you would not have.
Her inner voice was right. She didn’t ask guys for their numbers. If a guy was attracted to her, she’d wait for him to ask for her number, not the other way around.
But she was pretty sure, from Roland’s attitude tonight, that he was attracted to her.
She placed her purse on the table. He was, wasn’t he? She might have dated DeWalt exclusively for years, butthere had never been a time when she hadn’t been able to detect interest from other men, whether they acted on it or not. Roland was attracted to her. Just like she was attracted to him.
Even tonight, sharing the elevator with him, she’d felt the undercurrents that nearly made her breathless. And when they’d walked side by side toward their doors, she’d been almost overcome by his scent. All masculine and arousing.
Arousing?
Yes, it had definitely been arousing. DeWalt’s scent hadn’t ever stimulated her hormones the way Roland’s did. But after his less-than-desirable attitude tonight, she decided to hold out and do her best to put her attraction to him to rest. It was obvious he didn’t want to be interested in her any more than she wanted to be interested in him.
Their paths had crossed a number of other times and he’d always been cordial and polite, keeping his distance. But what had happened to put him on the defensive just because she’d asked for his phone number?
She was well aware that she and Roland had something in common--they had both lost the people they thought would be with them forever. The only difference, it seemed, was that she believed that eventually she would one day meet someone else. It might be years from now, but she believed that when the time was right, she would be able to make room in her heart for another man.
Obviously, Roland had pretty much accepted that there would be no other woman in his life. Not after he lost his wife.
Why did she care?
She shouldn’t. But whenever she saw Roland, she was reminded of something vital--she was a woman. A young woman with needs and wants.
There was something about his stare that could make her panties wet. Something about his scent that could cause her body to react in ways it never had before. And the husky sound of his voice sent shivers racing through her.
Bottom line, Roland had the ability to invoke emotions—and physical reactions--in her that she preferred to leave buried. As she headed for the bedroom to take her shower, she could only hope their paths didn’t cross again any time soon. The less she saw of him, the better.
A short while later, feeling totally refreshed after her shower, Lennox picked up her phone to order from one of the local meal delivery services. After that, she grabbed the remote off the table, and flicked on the television to see what was happening in other parts of the country.
Lennox was about to stretch out on her sofa when she decided to grab one of the candy bars from the convention’s swag bag to take the edge off her hunger. She looked at the clock—it would still be a half-hour or so before her meal arrived.
Entering her bedroom, she grabbed the bag she’d tossed in the corner and emptied the contents on her bed, looking for the candy bar.
“Ah ha,” she said when she saw it.
Lennox was throwing everything back in the bag when she came across a white envelope with her name scribbled across it. She frowned. She hadn’t seen that before. Opening the envelope, she read the handwritten words on a sheet of paper that said…
Your fiancé’s death was not an accident. He was murdered. Watch your back.
• • •
Roland laid back on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. He didn’t need anyone to tell him he’d insulted Lennox by questioning her motives in wanting his phone number. But then, when other women had asked for it in the past, he knew they’d been coming on to him. Lennox’s reason for wanting it made sense, yet he still hadn’t given it to her.
Why did the thought of her having his phone number, and him having hers, bother him? Was it because he was afraid he’d be tempted to use it? Maybe on one of those nights when she dominated his thoughts and his desires? It was bad enough knowing she was right across the hall, but to also have access to her phone number…
He rubbed a frustrated hand down his face. Hadn’t he decided, just earlier that day, not to run scared when it came to her? Why was he letting her get to him this way?
The next time he saw her, he’d give her his number…and he’d apologize. He definitely hadn’t been thinking clearly earlier. He blamed it on the elevator ride. The moment the doors had closed, locking them inside that tiny compartment, her scent had wreaked havoc on his brain cells.
He doubted Lennox realized how much she got to him. And it was so damn annoying, because he hadn’t allowed it. There was something about Dr. Lennox Roswell that had slipped past his defenses and those safety mechanisms he’d put in place years ago—the ones he’d created for his peace of mind.
Hearing the ding from his oven, he got up to go into the kitchen. Before leaving for work this morning, he’d made a spaghetti casserole. All he’d had to do when he got home was put it in the oven. Becca had loved Italian foods and when they’d gotten married, she’d shared some of her family recipes with him. This spaghetti casserole was one of them.
After taking the dish out the oven, he was about to spoon a portion onto his plate when he thought of Lennox. Had she grabbed something to eat before she’d come home or was she cooking her own meal? He had no reason to think she didn’t know her way around the kitchen since she baked so well. But still, the least he could do was share some of his casserole with her. He had plenty. And she had been so neighborly last Saturday when she’d shared some of her cookies with him.
Taking her over some of the casserole would give him the chance to apologize, as well as exchange phone numbers…if she still wanted to do that. After his earlier attitude, she might tell him just where to take his number and shove it. Hell, he wouldn’t even blame her. But to make things right between them, it was a chance he was going to have to take.
