“I get it. You thought she was sexy.”

“Last checkup, I had a pulse, so, yeah. But you should’ve seen her face when Moe jumped out of the car. All that polish, that sheen just vanished. She lit up like Christmas morning.”

“So, she likes dogs.”

“No, it was more. It wasn’t the coochee-coo that some fancy women do with dogs. It was fall down on the ground, roll in the grass, and gut-laugh. So why doesn’t she have one?”

“Maybe Pitte won’t have one around.”

Flynn shook his head. “You’re more observant than that. The guy would slice open a vein for her if she asked him to. Something strange about the way she got Moe to shake hands. Something strange about the whole deal.”

“No argument. I’m going to concentrate on the painting, at least until one of us comes up with a different angle. I’ll leave you to try to pin down Rowena and Pitte.”

“I’ve got to cover a town hall meeting tonight. How about we get together tomorrow?”

He maneuvers. He herds. She remembered Dana’s words and shot him a quick, suspicious look. “Define ‘get together.’ ”

“I’ll adjust the definition any way you want.”

“I’ve got four weeks—less now—to find this key. I’m currently unemployed and have to figure out what I’m going to do, at least professionally, for the rest of my life. I recently ended a relationship that was going nowhere. Add up all the above, and it’s very clear I don’t have time for dating and exploring a new personal relationship.”

“Hold on a minute.” He pulled off to the side of the windy road, unhooked his seat belt. He leaned over, took her shoulders, and eased her over as far as her own belt would allow while his mouth ravished hers.

A rocket of heat shot up her spine and left its edgy afterburn in her belly.

“You’ve, ah, really got a knack for that,” she managed when she could breathe again.

“I practice as often as possible.” To prove it, he kissed her again. Slower this time. Deeper. Until he felt her quiver. “I just wanted you to add that to your equation.”

“I was an art major. Math isn’t my strong suit. Come back here a minute.” She grabbed his shirt, yanked him to her, and let herself go.

Everything inside her sparked. Blood and bone and brain.

If this was what it meant to be herded, she thought dimly, she could be flexible about her direction.

When his hands clenched in her hair, she felt a stir of power and anxiety that was as potent as a drug.

“We really can’t do this.” But she was tugging his shirt out of his waistband, desperate to get her hands on flesh.

“I know. Can’t.” He fumbled with the buckle of her seat belt. “We’ll stop in a minute.”

“Okay, but first . . .” She brought his hand to her breast, then moaned as her heart seemed to tip into his palm.