It was too damp and overcast for comfortable outdoor dining, but he’d been so conscious of the inviting bed above their heads that he hadn’t protested moving out here. It was a good place to cool off. Except all he’d done so far was heat up.

Pipe set her fork on her plate. He’d noticed before how dainty her hands were and made a mental note never to use that word to her face.

Earlier, he’d seen her staring at his chest. He’d initially assumed she was checking out his bruises, but then he remembered her attraction for that particular part of his body and decided something more interesting was going on in her head. But leaving his sweatshirt open on purpose was one of the biggest cheeseball moves he’d ever made. Still, anything that gave him an edge was fair game.

“Annabelle Champion doesn’t seem to think you have any crazed ex-girlfriends lurking around,” she said.

“Now what were you doing talking to Annabelle?”

“Satisfying my curiosity.”

“Well, stop it. You quit, remember? And I’m not hiring you back.”

“Who else do you trust enough to investigate what happened? She also said there’d been a couple of crazies.”

“Most recently? A loony named Esmerelda Crocker.”

“Totally harmless.”

“Are you?” He leaned back in his chair and took her in. Her face was so full of life. Those bright eyes had a whole world going on behind them. And that wide mouth... So much he wanted to do with that mouth. So much he wanted that mouth to do to him.

She took too long to look away. He smiled to himself. She wasn’t as detached as she liked to pretend.

She reached for that ratty messenger bag she carried around and pulled out a notebook. “You’ve been in the public eye for years. You have to have gotten your fair share of hate mail.”

“The Stars office still screens my mail. If they’d gotten anything they thought was serious, they’d have let me know.”

“Who do I talk to there?”

“You don’t talk to anybody. And put that notebook away. This was a random attack, and you’re trolling for a job.”

“A job that needs doing.”

“Really? Then why haven’t you brought up the most obvious suspect? My pal, the Prince of Darkness.”

She toyed with the edge of her notebook. “I’m getting there.”

“Very slowly. And I know why.”

She nodded. “Because I feel responsible.”

“You aren’t, but I like your guilt.” He appreciated the way she stepped up to the plate with none of the pretend ignorance so many people hid behind. Pipe was a straight shooter. Except when she chose not to be.