Tough Customer

She was on the verge of nodding off when a car pulled up at the curb and parked. A man got out and walked toward the house. Through the glass in the storm door, his silhouette showed up large, and she experienced a twinge of apprehension, as she always did when showing a house to a man alone.

He opened the door and stepped into the foyer.

When she recognized Dodge Hanley, her heart gave a bump of a different sort. The reaction startled and confused her. It had been two months since she'd told him not to interfere with her life and had warned him of serious consequences if he did. She'd thought she would never see him again. But here he was, and her involuntary excitement was unsettling.

She stood up.

He said, 'Hi.'

'Hi.'

She'd been seated in a folding chair at a card table. Draped in a gold cloth, it served as a reception desk. Scattered across it were leaflets describing the house for sale and a goodly number of her business cards. She was unreasonably glad that the table was between her and the policeman, who was out of uniform, wearing a sport coat and slacks instead.

'What are you doing here?'

He raised the folded sheet of newspaper he'd carried in with him and pointed to an ad in the real estate section. 'Open house. Sunday. Two till five. It's got a picture of this house, it gives the street address, and it's listed under your name as an agent for Jim Malone Realty.'

'I know what the ad says. I proofread it before submitting it to the classifieds. That doesn't explain what you're doing here.'

'It's an open house.'

His obtuseness was irrationally disarming and made her want to smile. Instead, she folded her arms across her middle, where she was still experiencing a flutter, and asked loftily, 'Are you in the market for a home, Mr. Hanley?'

'Maybe.' He gave the foyer a slow survey. 'What's to recommend this house? Please don't tell me this wallpaper is its best feature.'

She managed to keep her smile in check, but barely. 'It's got a nice backyard. Fenced.'

'Wood fence?'

'Cyclone.'

He frowned.

'Large, native trees,' she continued. 'Very shady. And with a little repair, the patio--'

'Repair?'

'Minimal repair would return it to being, uh, usable.'

'Huh.' He glanced into the adjacent living room at the turquoise brocade divan. 'Ugly furniture.'

'The furniture isn't included in the sale.'

'Lucky us.'

'With new paint, wallpaper, and furniture, the house would look entirely different. You have to have an imagination.'

'A wild imagination.'

Knowing it was a game, she continued playing along. 'It has three bedrooms, one down, two up. Two fireplaces, one in the formal living area, and one in the den, which used to be the garage. The owners converted it into a room when the house underwent a total renovation.'

He looked up at a crack in the ceiling. 'When was that?'

'Nineteen fifty-two.'

He raised his eyebrows, and she could no longer contain her self-deprecating laughter. 'The place is a disaster. But it's my first listing.'

'Congratulations.'

'Thank you.'

They shared a grin, then he said, 'Jim Malone Realty. He's a bigwig, right? His signs are all over Houston.'

'I'm very fortunate to have been hired by his agency.'

'He's fortunate to get you.'

She accepted the compliment with a humble nod. 'His company is very well established. I'm a newcomer. I've got a lot to learn.'

'Is that why you pulled this detail?'

'I volunteered.'

'You've got ambition, Ms. King.'

'I don't want to go back to the tax assessor's office.'

'Can't say I blame you for that.' He smiled again and glanced down at the brochures on the table. 'Have you had many people come by?'

'You're the third in nearly three hours.'

'You've had to sit here for all that time by yourself?'

'Well, there's the cat, but he hissed at the first couple who came in, so I locked him in the pantry.'

'Can you stick it out for'--he consulted his watch--'twenty-two more minutes?'

'I've been counting them down and trying to stay awake.'

They exchanged another smile, then neither said anything, and the silence of the house pressed in around them. This man made her uneasy, and she couldn't account for it. Even when she was interviewed by Jim Malone himself, persuading him that she would be an asset to his agency despite her inexperience, she hadn't been as nervous as she was now. Around Dodge Hanley she became self-conscious, unsure, and at a loss for what to say and where to look.

Maybe it was a natural reaction to being in the company of a police officer. Drivers automatically tapped their brakes when they spotted a radar trap even when they weren't speeding. Perhaps it was Dodge's implied authority that intimidated her.

Or maybe she was still embarrassed over how he'd first seen her, with the effects of Roger's slap evident--the mark on her cheek fresh, the emotional impact of it equally raw. She'd been unable to hide her mortification then, and she couldn't now.

Perhaps her discomfiture had something to do not with her but with him. His strong features, tough bearing, and unmitigated masculinity hinted at the latent violent streak that she knew could be ferocious. After all, she'd seen the result of it. Roger had been hospitalized for ten days following the beating he took.

She didn't fear for her own safety, however. Dodge Hanley posed no threat to her, even by implication. In fact, his demeanor was protective, almost quaintly chivalrous. She felt a gravitational pull toward it that was entirely feminine.

It was that instinctual response to him that gave her butterflies. Being near him made her feel as if she was balancing on tiptoe at the end of a high diving board. By turns, it was exhilarating and terrifying.

All the time these thoughts were going through her mind, they'd been staring at each other. Needing to fill the dense silence, she asked, 'Are you still on the task force?'

'They haven't kicked me off yet.'

'So the crime remains unsolved?'

'We're working on it.'