Shoring up his resolve, he left the car behind, hit the autolock button, and strode toward the apartment.

After fitting his key in the lock, he entered, closed the door behind him—and froze as he turned to scan the living room.

Christi was on the couch, head resting against the back, papers scattered around her, eyes closed, her breathing slow and even.

She was out cold.

Not surprising. After putting in a full day at Eye of the Beholder and another eight hours with Hannah, she had to be exhausted. At least her schedule would be less demanding next week if Beth spent afternoons at the shop, as planned.

He propped his fists on his hips as he traced her slumbering profile and kept his distance. How best to rouse her without moving within touching range?

Keys. That would work.

He pulled them out and jingled them.

No reaction.

He took a step closer and tried again. Louder.

At last she stirred, and after a moment her eyelids fluttered. The instant his presence registered, she straightened up and shoved her hair back, a rosy hue blooming on her cheeks. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on the job.”

“I sleep while Hannah sleeps. That’s not against the rules.”

“It’s against my rules.” She began to gather up the papers strewn around her. “You’re not paying me to sleep.”

“Staying awake until I get home wasn’t part of the agreement. I don’t care if you rack out on the couch after you put Hannah to bed.”

She continued to collect the papers. “I’ll concede that—if you’ll forget about repaying me for the food Hannah eats at my house. The salary you’re paying me is more than sufficient to cover a few groceries.”

They were back to that.

“If I say no?”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to stay awake in the future after she goes to bed.”

He could argue the point—or he could just build in a salary bonus down the road.

Problem solved.

“I can live with that.”

She stopped gathering up the papers and inspected him, as if his concession surprised her. “You can?”

“Yes.”

She gave him a wary look. “Why do I think there’s a devious motive behind your quick capitulation?”

“Because you’ve become a cynic?” He tried for a casual tone, but a touch of tenderness crept into his voice.

Her color surged again—and she changed the subject, adopting a brisk, businesslike manner. “Would you like a report on my afternoon and evening with Hannah?”

“Yes.”