“I think it’s time we talked to Lucy.” Zack picked up the phone and dialed. “I was going over there later today, anyway.”

“That explains why you shaved two days in a row. We’re all grateful.”

Zack ignored him. “Come on, pick it up,” he said into the phone. “I told you not to answer the door. It’s okay to pick up the phone.” But after the twelfth ring, his annoyance faded and turned to cold fear. “She’s not answering.”

Anthony grabbed his jacket. “Let’s go. Looks like she opened the door, after all.”

Chapter Five

Lucy tried to run off her anger in the cold Saturday-morning light. After all, it was a waste of time to be angry with a man because he didn’t call or come over when he said he was going to. Men never did.

Especially men like Zack, who ran around one minute shouting, “Somebody’s trying to kill you,” and the next minute forgot you existed. If he was so worried about her being killed, why hadn’t he called all day yesterday? Him and his instincts. As Mrs. Dover would say, Ha.

She turned to jog back down her street, and when she looked up at her own house, Zack was on the front porch.

Her first thought was that he was even more magnetic than she’d remembered him. He seemed, even from a distance, to be vibrating with energy.

Her second was that her hair was probably even stranger in the daylight than it was in artificial light.

Her third, when she got closer, was that he wasn’t vibrating with energy, he was vibrating with anger. Well, the heck with him. So what if he was angry. So was she. He hadn’t called. He’d just left her there like a potted plant, and he hadn’t called. Who did he think he was? Who the heck did he think he was?

Yeah.

He came to meet her as she walked up the steps, and he looked wonderful-tall, dark, and enraged.

“You shaved.” She was still breathless from running. “And your lip looks much better. You look much more reliable.”

“Reliable? Me? What about you?” Zack stabbed his finger at her. “I told you to stay put!”

“Listen.” Lucy tried to keep an edge on her anger. It was hard because she really was glad to see him, and he really was gorgeous. She put her hands on her hips and concentrated. “Listen, you. You told me it was for one night and then you’d call. You didn’t call. Which isn’t surprising because you’re a man, and men never call, but still, in this situation, you would think…”

“I’ve been out of my mind with worry about you,” Zack said through his teeth. “I had you pictured dead in a pool of blood in front of the fireplace. And now you show up alive, and I want to kill you myself.”

“And anyway, who do you mink you are, saying ‘Stay put’ like I’m some…I don’t know…trained dog, or something.”

“I thought you were dead.” Zack grabbed her arm. “I thought somebody had grabbed you. I thought I was going to have to raise your damn dogs…”

“Why would you have to raise my dogs? I just needed exercise.” Lucy tried to tug away from him. “I ran two miles. Big deal. Let go of me.”

“My partner is next door right now, calling for help to look for your body.” Zack tightened his grip. “I’m so damn mad at you… Just…get in that house.”

“Now wait just a minute!” Lucy began, but then she stopped, distracted by the streak of yellow that blurred past her feet. “Look out, Phoebe’s loose again.”

In an instant, the cat had raced across the lawn and dived into the window of Lucy’s car.

“No!” Lucy jerked free from Zack. “That’s it. That’s the last straw.” She started across the lawn to the car, and Zack grabbed her sweatshirt and yanked her to the cold ground, falling on her as he rolled them both down the hill into Mrs. Dover’s driveway.

They landed with a thud, Lucy on the bottom, and all the breath went out of her lungs as Zack fell on top of her. “Hey,” she said, but all that came out was a whisper.

He was covering her with his body, one hand braced over her head, listening for something. He looked exactly the same as he had the day he’d flung her into the alley-the same anvil jaw, only clean-shaven now, cocked away from her at the same angle while he tensed against her.

Just like in the alley.

Lucy stopped trying to shove him off and clutched at his arms. “Zack? Was somebody shooting at you again?”

He looked down at her, focused and sharp. “I thought you said you always rolled your car windows up. Because of Phoebe.”

“I do…” Lucy began and stopped, distracted by the realization of how warm he was on top of her. “Uh, Zack…”

“They’re down now. Phoebe jumped in.”

“Big deal.” Lucy tried to shift his weight off her without enjoying it. “Maybe I forgot. You’re squashing me. Get off.”

“They were up when I left day before yesterday. And you haven’t been in the car since, right?”

Zack was almost nose-to-nose with her, his electric blue eyes staring down into her brown ones, his hand cradling her face, the weight of his body stretched warmly along the whole length of hers, and she lost the thread of her argument in the heat she was feeling everywhere. It was so unfair. He was gorgeous, he was on top of her, and he was asking her questions about a cat She might have to kill herself, after all.

“Zack.” She pushed gently at him. “Nothing is happening here. There are no gunshots. Get off me.”

She stopped when her eyes connected with his. She could feel him relax against her as his attention shifted from the car to her.

“I wouldn’t exactly say nothing is happening.” Zack smiled down at her.

“Well, nobody’s trying to kill me,” Lucy said, trying to sound reasonably calm. “Get off.”

“So you’re telling me I overreacted.” The warmth in his eyes went to her bones, and she swallowed hard.

“I know.” Lucy tried to keep her tone cool while she melted under him. “You couldn’t help yourself. It was an instinct. I forgive you. Now, get off me.”

He raised himself up on one elbow and flicked one of her curls with his ringer. “You know, in this light, your hair looks sort of…green.”

“Get off me now!” she said, and Mrs. Dover came onto her front porch and screamed, “Perverts!” at them, and Phoebe raced across Zack’s back using every claw she had for traction, and Zack yelled in pain.

And the car blew up.

“Zack!” Lucy threw her arms around him and pulled him down to her, and Mrs. Dover screamed again and fell backward into her house, and Phoebe bit high C and disappeared under the porch.

After a moment of silence, Zack raised his shoulders off Lucy and gazed cautiously over the hill at her burning car.

“Nice little bomb,” he said reflectively. “Very neat.”

Lucy eased the top of her body up, too, still under him, and watched the flames, horrified. He looked down at her, and when she turned back they were nose-to-nose.

“You okay?”

“Zack,” Lucy said. “Somebody’s trying to kill me.”

“You know,” Zack said, “I had an instinct about that.”


HALF AN HOUR LATER, Anthony sat in an overstuffed armchair between Lucy and Zack, feeling like a tennis ref.

“Okay,” Zack said from where he stood in front of the fireplace. “One more time. How long were you gone?”

Lucy leaned back against the love seat. “I told you. I just ran two miles. Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. I didn’t check the clock when I left.”

“That’s not enough time.” Anthony said. “In broad daylight, with a delayed fuse? And no one saw him? Face it, Zack. It doesn’t matter when she ran. He must have set this up last night.” He turned back to Lucy. “Do you remember if the windows were up or down when you left to ran?”

“Zack already asked me that. I didn’t pay any attention. I didn’t even notice the windows when I came back until Phoebe jumped inside the car.” She stopped again. “That was such a nice car. It’s totaled, right?”

Zack smacked his hand on the mantel from exasperation. “Lucy, you dummy, this was a bomb, not a rear-end collision!”

Lucy looked back at him, just as exasperated. “Well, it’s totally destroyed, right? Which means it’s totaled, right? What are you so mad at me for? And don’t call me a dummy, either, you…you…” She blinked.

“Listen, lady…” Zack began, stabbing his finger at her.

“Okay, children, that’s enough,” Anthony said. “Fight on your own time. We’ve got a serious problem here.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucy said to him. “I’m usually not this rude. It’s just Zack. He brings out the worst in me.”

“That’s good to know,” Zack said. “I’d hate to think this was your best.”

“I beg your pardon,” Lucy said.

“Zack, shut up.” Anthony turned to Lucy and smiled. It was a great smile, his sure-you-can-trust-me smile, and Lucy smiled back.

Zack glowered at both of them.

“Now look, Lucy,” Anthony went on. “I know Zack didn’t call you, and that was wrong.” Zack started to say something, and Anthony shot him a warning glance that was pure venom. Zack shut up, and Anthony returned to his persuasion. “That won’t happen again. I promise. The important thing is that now mat we know for sure that somebody is trying to hurt you, we have to get serious about this. What we’d like to do -with your permission, of course- is put you in a hotel…”

“No,” Lucy said.

“I told you so.” Zack looked at Lucy. “You’re either going to a hotel or to your sister’s and that’s that. No arguments. Get your stuff.”

“No,” Lucy said.

“I’ll look after the dogs,” Zack said. “Get your stuff.”

“You won’t remember,” Lucy said.