“Yes.” She wandered over to the window. The vastness still had the power to stun her and almost … almost frighten. Once you were beyond the city limits, you might wander for miles without seeing another face, hearing another voice. The isolation, she thought, or perhaps just the space itself, would overwhelm. “Have you been there often?” she asked, deliberately turning her back to the window.

“Hmm?”

“To Los Angeles?”

“No.” He crossed to her and offered a glass of pale gold wine.

“You prefer the East to the West?”

He smiled and lifted his glass. “I make it a point to prefer where I am.”

He was very adept at evasions, she thought, and turned away to wander the room. It seemed he was also very adept at making her uneasy. Unless she missed her guess, he did both on purpose. “Do you travel often?”

“Only when it’s necessary.”

Tipping back her glass, Lee decided to try a more direct approach. “Why are you so secretive about yourself? Most people in your position would make the most of the promotion and publicity that’s available.”

“I don’t consider myself secretive, nor do I consider myself most people.”

“You don’t even have a bio or a photo on your book covers.”

“My face and my background have nothing to do with the stories I tell. Does the wine suit you?”

“It’s very good.” Though she’d barely tasted it. “Don’t you feel it’s part of your profession to satisfy the readers’ curiosity when it comes to the person who creates a story that interests them?”

“No. My profession is words—putting words together so that someone who reads them is entertained, intrigued and satisfied with a tale. And tales spring from imagination rather than hard fact.” He sipped wine himself and approved it. “The teller of the tale is nothing compared to the tale itself.”

“Modesty?” Lee asked with a trace of scorn she couldn’t prevent.

The scorn seemed to amuse him. “Not at all. It’s a matter of priorities, not humility. If you knew me better, you’d understand I have very few virtues.” He smiled, but Lee told herself she’d imagined that brief predatory flash in his eyes. Imagined, she told herself again and shuddered. Annoyed at her own reaction, she held out her wineglass for a refill.

“Have you any virtues?”

He liked the fact that she struck back even when her nerves were racing. “Some say vices are more interesting and certainly more entertaining than virtues.” He filled her glass to just under the rim. “Would you agree?”

“More interesting, perhaps more entertaining.” She refused to let her eyes falter from his as she drank. “Certainly more demanding.”

He mulled this over, enjoying her quick response and her clean, direct thought patterns. “You have an interesting mind, Lenore. You keep it exercised.”