‘‘You never could lie worth spit.’’ Firmly, he took her chin in one hand, holding it until her eyes shifted to his. ‘‘It took me a while to figure it, but I’ve got it now, don’t I?’’

‘‘She was only trying to help. She knew I was upset about the way things were between us. You’ve got a right to be mad, but don’t take it out on her. She was only—’’

‘‘Did I say I was mad?’’ he interrupted.

‘‘No, but . . .’’ She trailed off, drew in a careful breath. ‘‘You’re not mad?’’

‘‘I’m grateful.’’ His grin was slow and wicked. ‘‘But maybe you ought to try to seduce me again. Just in case.’’

ELEVEN

IN THE DARK, WHILE AN owl still hooted, Ethan shifted, easing out from under the arm Grace had wrapped around his chest. In response she snuggled closer. The gesture made him smile.

‘‘Are you getting up?’’ she asked in a voice that was muffled against his shoulder.

‘‘I’ve got to. It’s after five already.’’ He could smell rain on the air, hear it coming in the rising wind. ‘‘I’m going to get a shower. You go back to sleep.’’

She made a sound that he took for assent and burrowed into the pillow.

He moved lightly through the dark, though he had to check himself a couple of times on the way to the bathroom. He didn’t know her house as well as his own. He waited until he was inside before turning on the light so the backwash of it wouldn’t spill into the hall and disturb her.

The room was scaled to match the rest of the house, so small he could have stood in the center and touched each side wall with his hands. The tiles were white, the walls above them papered in a thin candy stripe. He knew she’d hung the paper herself. She rented from Stuart Claremont, and the man wasn’t known for his generosity or his sense of decor.

He had to grin at the orange-billed rubber duck nested on the side of the tub. One sniff at the soap made him realize why Grace always smelled faintly of lemons. While he appreciated the fragrance on her, he hoped sincerely that Jim wouldn’t notice the citrus scent on him.

He ducked his head under what he thought of as a pisstrickle of spray. She needed a new showerhead, he decided, and as he rubbed a hand over his face, noted that he needed a shave. Both would have to wait.

But it was likely that now that things had changed between them, she would let him take care of a few things around the house for her. She’d always been so blessed stubborn about accepting help. It seemed to him that even a proud woman like Grace would be less stiff about taking help from a lover than a friend.