19
LUKE CURSED softly and violently.
She must have seen the show. But how could she have? She’d been at school. Had someone who’d seen them together watched the show? Had she stumbled on it on the internet? That must be it. He was deep in it now, and he had a feeling a few roses weren’t going to smooth hisway.
His erection drooped, tacitly acknowledging it wasn’t going to be seeing much actiontonight.
Luke wiped a prickle of sweat from his forehead, fighting downpanic.
She was mad. Fair enough. She deserved to be. He should have told her he’d written the damn book, and he hadn’t. But he bet whatever busybody had got on the hotline to tell her that her loverboy was on television promoting his book had neglected to tell Shari that he’d announced his love for her to all of America. Didn’t that count forsomething?
Determined to set her straight, he knocked softly on thedoor.
Nothing.
He knockedlouder.
Nothing.
He banged his fist until it was numb and he was getting pins and needles up hisarm.
Stillnothing.
Dread was turning to irritation.Couldn’t she at least hear himout?
He put his mouth to the door and yelled, “Shari!”
A door opened, all right, but it wasn’t hers. Down the hall, Mr. Forrester, nosy old busybody, poked his head out into the hallway. “What is all this racket? At this time ofnight?”
Luke glanced at his watch. It wasn’t even eighto’clock.
“Have you seenShari?”
The old man’s eyes narrowed, but it wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen them together every day. “She’s probably in bed. Came home early with acold.”
So that’s how she’dknown.
Still, not all the cold medicines in the world would make her sleep thissoundly.
He did his best to look like an anxious suitor. Hell, it wasn’t difficult. That’s what he was. “I only want to give her these.” He flashed the roses at the busybody. “And make her sometea.”
“Humph. Wish somebody wanted to make me tea,” said the old man, shutting the door with asnap.
“Shari!” he yelled again, as loud as he could, banging on the door once more. “Open up or I’ll—” What he’d planned to threaten if she didn’t open up remained a mystery, since the door did open. To the full three inches allowed by the securitychain.
Shari was on the other side of the chain, and it might as well have been a thousand miles of uncrossableice.
“Will you stop banging on my door,” she said in a furious voice, somewhat lacking in dramatic punch from the hoarse quality of her words, and the fact that she ended on acough.
Immediately he forgot his own agenda. “You sound awful. Can I make you some tea? Or heat some soup orsomething?”
“There is one thing you can do forme.”
“What?Anything?”
“Dropdead.”
Fortunately, his reflexes were quick. He had his foot in the door before she could slamit.
