organized. She'd spent yesterday really knowing what she had done with everything. It just didn't seem right that so many things had been moved.
When she went down to the cellar to find another bottle of wine, she had the same feeling. She didn't know what exactly was out of place, only that it was. The kittens had been down there, she reminded herself. And Rex had been down there, too--to let the kittens out, then to clean up after them. But she couldn't imagine the strange little chills running down her spine being caused by Rex's having been there. It was stupid--or perhaps it was instinct or a sixth sense. She was certain that someone else had been there.
She had just slipped the steaks into the oven when a pair of strong brown arms encircled her waist.
'What's the matter?' he asked her.
'Rex! Did you finish with your notes already?'
'I did...thanks to that wonderfully conniving little mind of yours. What an asset--beyond the obvious, of course.'
'Do I know you, sir?' Alexi retorted.
'If you don't now, honey, you're going to,' he replied in a wonderful imitation of Gary Grant, swinging her around in his arms. But his smile faded to a frown as he met her eyes.
'What's wrong?' he asked.
'Nothing! Really.'
'No. Something is wrong.'
'You can read me that well, huh?' Alexi murmured, a little uneasily, her lashes sweeping over her eyes. She smiled at him, telling him he'd better get out of the way so she could turn the steaks. He obliged, but when she brought the broiling pan out and put the meat on the plates, be pressed the point.
Alexi picked up the platter with the two potatoes and the salad bowl and set them at the table. She handed Rex the bottle of wine to open and a pair of chilled glasses, then sat down. Rex arched a brow in silence, opened the wine and poured it, then sat across from her. 'Well?' 'Well, you never believe me,' she murmured. His mouth tightened. 'I have never not believed you, Alexi. But what are you talking about now?'
She sighed and sprinkled too much salt on her steak. 'I don't know. This time it really does sound silly. Rex, don't you dare laugh at me. I have a feeling that someone else has been in the house.'
He chewed a piece of meat, his eyes on her. “Why?'' 'Things have--moved.' 'Like what?'
'The sugar and tea canisters.'
He glanced across the kitchen. 'Maybe I moved them when I was fixing the coffee.'
She nodded. 'Maybe.' She shrugged. 'I know, I know--I'm being ridiculous.'
'Maybe not.' His fingers curled around hers on the table. Her heart seemed to stop when she gazed into his eyes. He wasn't laughing at her--he wasn't even smiling. In fact, the glitter of suspicion in his eyes was far more frightening than amusing.
'Alexi, you're forgetting that I was with you in the restaurant. Someone was very definitely spying on us.'
She swallowed and nodded.
He looked around the kitchen. 'It's just that...why would anyone want to come in here and move things around?''
'An antique buff?'
'Was anything taken?'
'No...I don't think so.'
Rex was silent for a minute. She felt his fingers moving lightly, pensively over hers.
'Alexi--would your ex-husband be jealous or spiteful enough to want to follow you?'
She inhaled sharply and stared down at her plate. She remembered holding her breath on her first day in Fernandina Beach, thinking that she had seen his handsome blond head in a crowd.
Cruel? Yes--that could be said of John. Opportunistic, callous, ruthless--determined. But this...this stealth? This senselessness?
She shook her head. 'I don't think so, Rex. I really don't.'
His voice seemed tight and very low. 'After what you've told me about the man, Alexi...'
'I know, Rex, I know,' she murmured uneasily. She met his eyes at last. She'd never felt so vulnerable, and she knew his temper, too, but she was entirely unprepared for the heat of the emotion that burned so deeply into her.
'Rex...I... John was certainly no gentleman, but the only time he really hurt me, he'd been drinking and he was in a fit. A lot of it was ego; I rejected him. It never occurred to John that his behavior was unacceptable. He wanted to hurt me for the fact that I could walk away.'
'He did hurt you. Badly.'
'But not like--this.' Her steak was cold. She'd lost her appetite anyway. In fact, a tremendous pall seemed to be falling upon a day that had been the most magical in her life. She smiled, trying not to shiver. “I probably am imagining things.'
'Well,' he murmured, sitting back, and his obsidian lashes hid his immediate thoughts. When he looked at her again he, too, was smiling. His fingers covered hers once again. 'No one can be around now, huh? Samson would sound an alarm as loud as a siren.'
Of course. She had forgotten Samson. No one could be anywhere near them. It was a nice thought. Very relieving.
'You haven't eaten a thing,' Rex reminded her. He poured more wine into her glass.
Alexi sipped it and grimaced. 'I'm really not very hungry.' She stood and smiled again, determined to recapture the laughter that they had shared. 'I know exactly what to do with it!'
'Oh?'
'Samson? Come here, you great dog, you!'
Barking excitedly and wagging his tail a mile a minute, Samson came bounding toward her, the kittens not far behind. Alexi gave the kittens tiny pieces of the meat and the rest to Samson.
'You have a friend for life,' Rex assured her.
She laughed and picked up the rest of the dishes. She and Rex decided to take a short walk, but when they had gone only a few steps, Alexi gave him a playful pinch, commenting on the fit of his jeans. He laughed and cast her over his shoulder, commenting on the lack of fit of her attire and on everything that was beneath.
They laughed all the way into the house, up the stairs and into the bedroom, and there the laughter faded to urgent whispers of passion and need.
And Alexi did forget about being nervous. This night, like the one before it, was magic.
Chapter 9
One week later, the carpenters were just finishing up with Alexi's first project, the window seat in the kitchen.
Alexi, in a blue flowered sundress, stood by the butcher-block table, admiring the work and her own design. Her hair was drawn back in a ponytail, and she was wearing very little makeup. Joe's boy had brought out several pizzas, and Alexi had passed out wine coolers. Rex, coming in from the parlor, surveyed the little area of the house and admitted she had quite a talent for design. The window seat was perfect for the house; the upholstery and drapes were in a colonial pattern, and the seat added something to the entire atmosphere and warmth of the kitchen. It hadn't been there in the past, of course, but it looked like something that could have been.
Enthused, Alexi swung around to demand, 'Well?' 'It is wonderful and perfect,' he told her, slipping an arm around her. With a satisfied sigh, she leaned against him. Skip Henderson, the elder of the two Henderson carpenters, chewed a piece of onion-and-pepperoni pizza, swallowed and told Alexi, 'It's a wonderful design. It's great. I might try something like it in my own place.' 'Yeah?' Alexi asked him.
He was a nice-looking man with muscled shoulders-- like Rex's, bare in the heat--and a toothsome grin. He offered Alexi a grave nod then, though, but grinned again when he looked over the top of her head to Rex to say, 'Smart, too, huh?' 'As a whip,' Rex agreed pleasantly. Alexi kicked him. 'Hey! What was that for?'
'I'd kick Skip, too, except that I don't know him that well,' Alexi retorted. 'There was that nice assumption that blondes only come in 'dumb'!'
Rex wrapped his arms around her and drew her tightly against him, laughing. 'I've never dared make any assumptions about you, Alexi.'
