“I had rest.” Feeling awkward, she ran water over the bowls he’d stacked in the sink. “We could probably make at least one museum, or catch a matinee. I don’t want to think you spent your whole day off mopping up after me.”

“Will you quit worrying about my day off?” Zack slapped the container on a shelf in the refrigerator. “I’m the boss, remember? I can take another.”

“Fine.” She slammed the water off. “See you around.”

“Man, you’ve got a short fuse.” Amused, he put his hands on her shoulders and rubbed. “Don’t get yourself worked up, sugar. All in all, I had a very eventful day.”

She closed her eyes, feeling those rough fingers through the silk of her blouse. “Any time, Muldoon.”

He could smell her hair, and he had to fight the urge to bury his face in it. It wouldn’t be possible to stop there. “You going to be all right alone? I could call the cop to come stay with you.”

“No. I’m fine.” Gripping the edge of the counter, she stared hard at the wall. “Thanks for the first aid.”

“My pleasure.” Damn it, he was stalling when he should be out the door. Away from her. “Maybe we can have an early dinner one night this week.”

She pressed her lips together. The way his hands were rubbing up and down her arms made her want to whimper. “Sure. I’ll check my schedule.”

He turned her around. He couldn’t be sure if she moved into his arms or if he’d pulled her there, but he was holding her. Her lips were parting for his. “I’ll call you.”

“Okay.” Her eyes fluttered closed as the kiss deepened.

“Soon.” He felt the breath backing up in his lungs as she molded against him.

“Um-hmm…” As his tongue danced over hers, she gave a quick sigh that caught in the middle.

He tore his mouth away to nibble along her jaw. “One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“I’m not leaving.”

“I know.” Her arms curled around his neck as he lifted her. “It’s just chemistry.”

“Right.” Struggling to remember her bruises, he rained soft kisses over her face.

“Nothing serious.” She shuddered, nipping at his neck. “I can’t afford to get involved. I have plans.”

“Nothing serious,” he agreed, blood pounding in his head, in his loins. He jerked open a door and found himself facing a closet. “Where’s the damn bedroom?”

“What?” She focused, realized he’d carried her out of the kitchen. “This is it. The couch…” She nipped his ear. “It pulls out. I can…”

“Never mind,” he managed, and settled for the rug.

CHAPTER SEVEN

He ripped her blouse. It wasn’t only passion that made him grab and tear. He couldn’t bear to see her wear it another moment, to see that vivid blue stained with spots of blood.