into a lilting cadence. “We’ll see about the lock before we go. How did the person get in?”
Cissy looked slightly embarrassed. “It might have been me.” At Amanda’s puzzled look, she continued. “Well, you know how that kid on the third floor is
“Okay, okay,” Amanda said in exasperation. “We all do dumb things. Now, you’ll know not to do that again, right?”
“Never,” Cissy said contritely, tugging at the neck of her silk, patterned robe. She gave Amanda a grateful hug. “Thanks for coming. I won’t let this upset me. I’ll be fine. I do think my hair may need the touch of a comb. I’ll only be a minute.”
“She’ll be ten, at least,” Amanda said, sotto voce to Marc as she began to check the room and he went to inspect the door. “She’s really a terrific person who has had to overcome some pretty rotten breaks. We’ll do a proper introduction when she comes back out. You can pretend to be an interested investor.” She chuckled. “Good- looking and rich. I may have to beat her off you with my poor, battered drawing table.” She began to carefully check the room.
Marc smiled and turned his attention to the door. “He used a pry bar. And he cut the chain with a lock cutter. He certainly knew his stuff. A little more prepared than a common thief looking for stuff to hock. What’s missing?”
Amanda’s face was filled with surprise at the realization. “Nothing. Except my files have been wrecked.”
He was quickly at her side. “Sit down, you look a little pale.”
“Marc, I was debating whether to tell you or not. This morning, when I got to work, I discovered the files in my office had been gone through. There was no sign either the company doors or the door to my office doors had been forced. I… I…” She hated implicating anyone. “There’s no reason for anyone in our production unit to go through my files. There are very few, if any, secrets in that office. But something odd is going on.”
Marc’s broad forehead furrowed. “Your office and now your apartment? You’re damned right something funny’s going on. I think I’d better have a talk with my older brother right now. Just to be sure he’s told me everything I need to know. The man is a ditz,” he grumbled. “You gonna be okay here? You got a super or something that can take care of the door? I’ll wait ‘til it’s fixed. Why the hell didn’t anybody stick their head out with all the racket? Damn New York.”
“To be so in love with the Village, you’re certainly short with Chelsea. Nobody’s home during the day on this floor. Everyone works.”
“Oh.” His angry look softened. He leaned closer, studying her distracted look. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
“I had the strangest sensation when the man leaped out from behind the drawing table and dashed out.” She bit her lip. Dare she trust this man?
He waited.
“It… he…the body shape… reminded me so much of Mr. Wilde.” She rushed on, appalled that she had actually voiced such a terrible accusation. “Which makes no sense, of course. I can’t imagine him moving that quickly; he’s almost as old as Professor Angeli. But… but I suppose with adrenaline… No! No. It’s not possible.”
“What’s not possible?” Cissy appeared from the bedroom, clad in a skimpy top and even skimpier skirt, her hair a golden casual poof topping her freshly made-up face. Amanda tensed as Marc visibly reacted with a show of pleasant surprise and interest.
“Oops. Did I interrupt something? Now, you two just go on chatting while I run down to the super’s. I am quite pulled together,” she said brightly, delicately readjusting her top so her unfettered breasts inside became even more apparent. She dashed from the apartment waving Amanda and Marc to stay seated.
“Will the super be able to handle that?” Marc’s sardonic look followed Cissy’s exit.
“Mr. Raymondo is very responsive to our needs. His wife sees to it that he’s not too responsive.”
He laughed and Amanda felt her throat tighten. She wanted so desperately to let her bottled-up feelings flood free. She had become used to tension at work, the pressure of surviving in this city, the chaos of living with Cissy. She had been in tricky situations before but she had never before felt… fear.
Marc put his arm around her and pulled her close as if understanding her sudden apprehension. He held her tight. The warmth of his powerful body, the security of his embrace, melted the tension and unleashed her tightly wound nerves. Amanda began to cry.
The raking sobs came quickly, and just as quickly subsided. That was what she needed. Just to let it out. She sucked in great gulps of air, forcing her mind toward blankness, allowing the containing grip of the male arms around her to give her the freedom to relax completely and slowly reassemble herself.
He said nothing. She felt the solid thump of his heart beat steadying her, righting her. A final shuddering sniffle and she was her old in-charge self again.
She pushed away from him, testing the surface tension between them. She was fine. She was whole again. And separate.
Marc smiled. “I liked that.”
“What? My falling apart? I don’t know what the hell’s happening to me,” she said roughly, her ego battering its wings distractedly against the bars of fear that had trapped her. “I’m certainly used to edgy situations. I guess… I guess it’s just that it’s been so unrelenting for the last couple of days. I…”
“The part about holding you.”
The ego-bird flew free into azure skies.
“I’ll go fix lunch.” She leapt up from the sofa, suddenly famished. At the fridge she could feel his powerful presence move behind her, feel the heat of his body warming her back as the cool air brushed her fevered cheeks.
“Back off, big boy.” Amanda clattered sandwich fixings onto the counter. “You and I need to get a few things straight.” He reached for her. She slid out of his embrace.
“I want to know what’s going on and what it has to do with me. And don’t give me that ‘all will be made clear in good time’ crap.” She was feeling her oats, fending off his wicked, crooked smirk, slipping away from his teasing, outstretched arms.
“I appreciate the comforting shoulder.” She pressed a knife firmly into his solid midsection, urging him back. “A lot.” For a brief moment she thought of dropping the pointed barrier between them and allowing their hormones to flow freely. His eyes were so blue, his look so warm, his comforting solidity such a refuge.
Home and hearth.
But this was no such thing. It was one hot, handsome male intent on conquest and one almost-willing female, fighting the powerful lion back onto his platform with an upraised chair.
Maybe she couldn’t make him jump through flaming hoops- just yet- but she could prevent him from leaving his marks on her, at least for now. She had no intention of fighting him back into his cage permanently.
Marc slumped against the counter, looking forlorn as he plucked a slice of chicken from the deli wrapper. He shoved the slice into his mouth. “Are you the bad guy, Ace?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t screw with me, Ace. I can handle it. We’ll work something out with the insurance company. David could learn to live with it. After all it was his class that inspired you.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“Nobody reacted the way you did, Amanda.” He took off his glasses and pulled her close to him, peering deep into her eyes. Into her soul. Amanda’s pulse began to race.
“I… I really have no idea… what…” She twisted from his grip and clutched the edge of the counter. “Gee… whiz… Marc…” She swallowed, then took a deep breath and turned to face him.
“I don’t know what you mean by that ‘acted-the-way-I-did’ crack. You’re a good-looking guy,” she tossed back, returning to constructing the sandwiches. “Can I help it if I’m particularly susceptible to naked lov…”
She spun back, her eyes wide on him. “Naked… nude… men…
She slapped slices of whole wheat bread down firmly, mashing the lettuce and tomato into the chicken slices.
