He leaned down and looked in the passenger’s window, knocked on the glass, and said her name.

“Lauren.”

The gate had barely opened wide enough to fit the BMW through when she pressed on the gas. But even though she was through the gate, she couldn’t make it close more quickly behind her. She couldn’t stop him from walking through.

So much for feeling nothing. A host of emotions descended on her: annoyance, embarrassment, anxiety . . .

“Lauren,” he said, coming up alongside the car, smiling as if he thought she would be glad to see him.

He was an attractive man, tall and masculine, with a square jaw and a day’s worth of five o’clock shadow à la Don Johnson, but she told herself she was not attracted to him. She imagined that many women would have found him charming, but she told herself she was not charmed.

She put the car in park and sat there for a moment, still refusing to turn and look at him. He opened the door for her, as if he was a gentleman.

Lauren heaved a sigh and got out.

“Why are you here?” she asked bluntly.

His mouth twisted with a small, sarcastic smile. “It’s nice to know you’re glad to see me.”

“I’m not glad to see you, Greg,” she said. “There’s no reason for you to be here.”

“Since you don’t return phone calls, I thought I should check on you. All things considered.”

He had a way of standing just the slightest bit too close, pressing in at the very edge of her personal space. The male animal subtly making the female aware of him, of his size and strength, and sexuality. She shifted her weight back a fraction of a step.

“So now you have,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Perfect. My life is perfect.”

He frowned. “I know that’s not true.”

“Then why did you ask? You’re the private detective. You should have all the answers.”

“Why are you so angry with me, Lauren?” he asked. “I gave you exactly what you wanted.”

Heat rose in her cheeks at the double entendre. She wanted to slap him, but thought better of it. All she really wanted was for him to be gone. A fight would only prolong his stay.

“And I paid for it,” she returned. “I didn’t ask for the extended warranty.”

He was getting frustrated with her now. Even with his sunglasses on, she could tell. His jaw shifted a little to the left, then a little to the right.

“Have you seen him?” he asked. “Does he know you’re here?”

“No,” she lied.

He didn’t believe her, but he didn’t call her on it. He looked toward the now-closed gate. “Do you really think that’s going to keep him out?”