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“Who?”
The door opened and two older ladies walked in, startled to see Sean standing with Lucy. Lucy cracked a sly smile. “Busted,” she said.
He took her hand and led her out, giving the ladies a low bow as they left. As soon as the door closed, he steered Lucy to the side and said, “Is this Prenter guy harassing you?”
She shook her head. “No—I didn’t know him. He was a college TA who drugged and raped a student. He was killed in a robbery this week. That’s been on my mind, too.”
“Divine justice.”
“Maybe.”
“Lucy, you have solid instincts, so don’t dismiss these feelings as being some neurosis. Trust yourself.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Having faith in me.”
“Who doesn’t?”
She didn’t answer because there wasn’t really an answer. Her family supported her, but they were always watching out for her when they didn’t think she knew. She wasn’t ignorant, and she picked up on their protective vibes. “You want to go?” she asked.
“I’m ready when you are.”
“Now.” They started down the hall to the coatroom.
“Can I interest you in dessert?” Sean asked lightly.
“You mean the buffet wasn’t enough?”
“You didn’t eat anything.”
“I wasn’t hungry.”
“I know a place,” Sean said cryptically. “Do you trust me?”
She hesitated. Not because she didn’t trust him, but so many emotions were jumping around inside and she wasn’t sure she could keep a lid on them.
“It’s beginning to snow.”
Sean glanced at her. “Are you kidding? A few scrawny flakes aren’t going to deter me from treating you to the most incredible strawberry cheesecake east of the Mississippi.”
“Cheesecake?” Her stomach growled and she put a hand to her mouth.
“I heard that,” he said. He took her hand and kissed it. It was a spontaneous gesture, and Lucy tried to convince herself it was a kiss of friendship, but a warm sensation ran up her arms to the base of her neck as they walked to the car.
SIXTEEN
Sean walked Lucy to her front door. She was vibrant, her cheeks red from the cold, her dark eyes sparkling from the cheesecake sugar rush, topped with a glass of champagne.
Sean was pleased with himself that he had been able to distract Lucy after her earlier attack of nerves. Two hours later, she finally seemed relaxed.
He hadn’t forgotten what she said, however. She thought someone was watching her. He didn’t discount it as a personal defect the way she had. With all the stuff going on with Morton’s murder, maybe someone was paying too much attention to Lucy.
“Thank you so much, Sean.” Lucy sighed contently as she unlocked the door. They stepped inside, the light snow still swirling around. “I’m so glad we went out for dessert.” She reached over to disarm the alarm.
“Anything for you, milady,” he said with an accent and half bow. He wanted to kiss Lucy, but he hesitated. Hesitating was unlike him. What was wrong with him? He never had a problem—ever—in showing a woman he was interested.
