“You might as well eat nothing if you think you can subsist on a couple of pieces of bread and some jam.” Before she could recover, Hunter swooped by her, carrying her breakfast tray. “And an intelligent woman never answers the door without asking who’s on the other side.” Setting the tray on the table, he turned to pin her with one of his long, intrusive stares.

She looked younger without the gloss of makeup and careful style. The traces of fragility he’d already sensed had no patina of sophistication over them now, though her robe was silk and the sapphire color flattering. He felt a flare of desire and a simultaneous protective twinge. Neither could completely deaden his anger.

She wasn’t about to let him know how stunned she was to see him, or how disturbed she was that he was here alone with her when she was all but naked. “First a chauffeur, now a waiter,” she said coolly, unsmiling. “You’re a man of many talents, Hunter.”

“I could return the compliment.” Because he knew just how volatile his temper could be, he poured a cup of coffee. “Since one of the first requirements of a fiction writer is that he be a good liar, you’re well on your way.” He gestured to a chair, putting Lee uncomfortably in the position of visitor. As though she weren’t the least concerned, she crossed the room and seated herself at the table.

“I’d ask you to join me, but there’s only one cup.” She broke a croissant in two and nibbled on it, unbuttered. “You’re welcome to a roll.” With a steady hand, she added cream to the coffee. “Perhaps you’d like to explain what you mean about my being a good liar.”

“I suppose it’s a requirement of a reporter as well.” Hunter saw her fingers tense on the flaky bit of bread then relax, one by one.

“No.” Lee took another bite of her roll as if her stomach hadn’t just sunk to her knees. “Reporters deal in fact, not fiction.” He said nothing, but the silent look demanded more of her than a dozen words would have. Taking her time, determined not to fumble again, she sipped at her coffee. “I don’t remember mentioning that I was a reporter.”

“No, you didn’t mention it.” He caught her wrist as she set down the cup. The grip of his fingers told her immediately just how angry he was. “You quite deliberately didn’t mention it.”

With a jerk of her head, she tossed the hair out of her eyes. If she’d lost, she wouldn’t go down groveling. “It wasn’t required that I tell you.” Ignoring the fact that he held one of her hands prisoner, Lee picked up her croissant with the other and took a bite. “I paid my registration fee.”

“And pretended to be something you’re not.”