So where did the nerves come from? he wondered. Curious, he decided it would be worth an hour of his time to try to find out.

Setting his paper aside, Hunter lit a cigarette and continued to stare at her, knowing there was no quicker way to catch someone’s eye.

Lee, thinking more about the story she was going to write than the coffee she’d come for, felt an odd tingle run up her spine. It was real enough to give her an urge to turn around and walk out again when she glanced over and found herself staring back at the man she’d met at the airport.

It was his eyes, she decided, at first not thinking of him as a man or the hotel driver from the previous day. It was his eyes. Dark, almost the color of jet, they’d draw you in and draw you in until you were caught, and every secret you’d ever had would be secret no longer. It was frightening. It was … irresistible.

Amazed that such a fanciful thought had crept into her own practical, organized mind, Lee approached him. He was just a man, she told herself, a man who worked for his living like any other man. There was certainly nothing to be frightened of.

“Ms. Radcliffe.” With the same unsmiling stare, he gestured to the chair across from him. “Buy you a cup of coffee?”

Normally she would’ve refused, politely enough. But now, for some intangible reason, Lee felt as though she had a point to prove. For the same intangible reason, she felt she had to prove it to him as much as to herself. “Thank you.” The moment she sat down, a waitress was there, pouring coffee.

“Enjoying the conference?”

“Yes.” Lee poured cream into the cup, stirring it around and around until a tiny whirlpool formed in the center. “As disorganized as everything seems to be, there was an amazing amount of information generated at the workshop I went to this morning.”

A smile touched his lips, so lightly that it was barely there at all. “You prefer organization?”

“It’s more productive.” Though he was dressed more formally than he’d been the day before, the pleated slacks and open-necked shirt were still casual. She wondered why he wasn’t required to wear a uniform. But then, she thought, you could put him in one of those nifty white jackets and neat ties and his eyes would simply defy them.

“A lot of fascinating things can come out of chaos, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps.” She frowned down at the whirlpool in her cup. Why did she feel as though she was being sucked in, in just that way? And why, she thought with a sudden flash of impatience, was she sitting here having a philosophical discussion with a stranger when she should be outlining the two stories she planned to write?