She felt the tremor again, up her spine, then down. It wasn’t comfortable to sit near a man who could do that. She had a moment’s sympathy for every person she’d ever interviewed. “You have an odd way of putting things,” she muttered.

“So I’ve been told.”

She instructed herself to get up and leave. It didn’t make sense to sit there being disturbed by a man she could dismiss with a five-dollar tip. “What are you doing in Flagstaff?” she demanded. “You don’t strike me as someone who’d be content to drive back and forth to an airport day after day, shuttling passengers and hauling luggage.”

“Impressions make fascinating little paintings, don’t they?” He smiled at her fully, as he had the day before when she’d tipped him. Lee wasn’t sure why she’d felt he’d been laughing at her then, any more than why she felt he was laughing at her now. Despite herself, her lips curved in response. He found the smile a pleasant and very alluring surprise.

“You’re a very odd man.”

“I’ve been told that, too.” His smile faded and his eyes became intense again. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

The question didn’t surprise her as much as the fact that she wanted to accept, and nearly had. “No,” she said, cautiously retreating. “I don’t think so.”

“Let me know if you change your mind.”

She was surprised again. Most men would’ve pressed a bit. It was, well, expected, Lee reflected, wishing she could figure him out. “I have to get back.” She reached for her briefcase. “Do you know where the Canyon Room is?”

With an inward chuckle, he dropped bills on the table. “Yes, I’ll show you.”

“That’s not necessary,” Lee began, rising.

“I’ve got time.” He walked with her out of the coffee shop and into the wide, carpeted lobby. “Do you plan to do any sightseeing while you’re here?”

“There won’t be time.” She glanced out one of the wide windows at the towering peak of Humphrey Peak. “As soon as the conference is over I have to get back.”

“To where?”

“Los Angeles.”

“Too many people,” Hunter said automatically. “Don’t you ever feel as though they’re using up your air?”

She wouldn’t have put it that way, would never have thought of it, but there were times she felt a twinge of what might be called claustrophobia. Still, her home was there, and more important, her work. “No. There’s enough air, such as it is, for everyone.”

“You’ve never stood at the south rim of the canyon and looked out, and breathed in.”