The Only Man for Maggie

by Leigh Michaels

  Not that she approved, exactly, Maggie thought. And she wasn't about to tell him that the townhouses were better than she'd expected. Karr would no doubt jump to the conclusion that she actually liked what she saw, and then she'd have no peace at all.

  The condos were scattered over a hillside, and though the buildings were all alike, the varying placements meant that they didn't look like clones.

  "Each building contains eight units," Karr said. "Four upstairs, four down. But we've designed the basic structure to place the units at angles, so a resident can look out from his front door and feel that his is the only home around."

  "You know," Maggie mused, "I think I'd rather be shot at dawn than live in something called a unit."

  He grinned, but he didn't answer.

  "It's funny," Maggie mused, "but Libby didn't seem to think there was a shortage of townhouses. If she had her pick of all the models—"

  "I'd held back one of each, special, just for the Eagle's Landing people to look at. Libby got the last Wakefield."

  "Oh, darn." Maggie's voice dripped irony.

  "But I can't hold the remaining ones off the market any longer—I've got salespeople champing at the bit to get to work on that. Just as I've got people waiting impatiently for Wednesday, so they can start work at Eagle's Landing."

  Maggie didn't bother to ask what sort of work; she knew she wouldn't get much of an answer. "What would you have done if I hadn't come back from my business trip before Wednesday?"

  "I don't know. Probably waited a couple of weeks and then put your stuff in storage."

  "Then there's really no reason you can't be patient a couple of weeks or so while I decide what to do, is there?"

  "You've got till Wednesday," he said. There was nothing harsh about his voice, but there was an underlying strength that sent a chill rippling through Maggie's veins.

  "That's utterly ridiculous," she said. Her resolution not to ask again about his plans collapsed. "What sort of work is so important that you can't wait a little while? Or start somewhere else and work around me?"

  "Tell you what, my dear. After you've moved away from Eagle's Landing, I'll take you out for a cup of coffee and tell you all about it. And when it's all done, I'll give you the guided tour." The car pulled up beside the house, and he turned to face her. "You've got till dark on Wednesday."

  "I'm not leaving, Karr."

  He got out and set her bags onto the steps at the side of the house. "I don't know how I can be any more reasonable."

  "You can leave me alone till Wednesday," Maggie muttered. "That would help."

  "Yes, ma'am." But his tone was not nearly as servile as the words.

  Maggie watched as the Mercedes vanished down the drive, feeling a little lost and empty. Perhaps that was just because Karr had made the deadline so specific; until now she'd been able to convince herself that there would be some flexibility, that eventually he would see the sense of her argument and give her the time she needed. She'd simply have to call Chad Buckley again and make sure he realized how important that delaying action was going to be.

  Then Maggie squared her shoulders and looked at the three bags of food lined up neatly on the step. "That wasn't terribly bright of you," she mocked herself. "If you'd played your cards right, Elliot the Great would have helped carry the bags upstairs—and then you could have told him to get lost!"

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Eagle's Landing had always made noises. Creaks and rattles were part of the charm of an old house, Maggie had always thought, and she'd enjoyed getting to know the house's natural sounds. Mostly they were friendly ones—even companionable.

  But on Monday, as the sun began to sink toward the west, Maggie found herself jumping at every noise. She told herself she was being silly, playing subconscious mind games simply because she knew she was alone. It really was stupid to be so sensitive about it; after all, she'd been the only one in the house on countless occasions before, and the fact had never bothered her.

  But it was different knowing that this time no one else would be coming back to Eagle's Landing. In one of that long row of identical townhouses, Dan and Libby were gleefully unpacking boxes or cooking their first dinner on the built-in barbecue grill in their brand-new kitchen. The other tenants were all settling into new places as well. Only Maggie was left.

  "And that's because you wanted to stay," she reminded.

  Even Tripp seemed to sense a difference in the house. He'd abandoned his favorite position on the kitchen rug and was huddled at Maggie's feet instead, under the library table where she'd been working all afternoon. She'd been so involved in roughing out the main story for the special section that she hadn't even noticed when he'd moved. She'd just suddenly realized he was there, leaning against her ankles and practically shivering…

  And no wonder. The apartment was chilly, and growing more so with each passing minute as the sun sank and the big old trees which surrounded the house blocked the solar heat which had been pouring in the windows all afternoon. Thoughtfully, Maggie went to check the radiators, and found them stone cold.

  So the war had started, had it?

  No doubt, she thought, Karr had planned this little episode. In fact, he might even have turned the boiler off himself, the minute his last cooperative tenants left the house. He hadn't waited long, that was sure, for it would have taken hours for the residual heat in the system to dissipate.

  Maggie could imagine him shutting down the boiler and chuckling as he calculated how long it was likely to be before she realized the house was growing colder. Well, if he thought a minor detail like this would make her give in and move, he was going to get a surprise.

  It was late April, and not bitterly cold. The walls were thick, and though the temperature in her apartment might be just a bit unpleasant by morning, the worst that could happen was she'd have some unhappy house plants. It would not be dangerous either for her or for Tripp. She'd simply bundle up in a couple of blankets and keep right on working, with hot tea to keep her warm.

  Still, since she needed to talk to Chad Buckley anyway…

  She caught him just as he was leaving his office, and he listened to her story and clicked his tongue chidingly. "No heat? Now that's downright naughty. You call your landlord right now, and if there's no action overnight, I can file for an injunction in the morning."

  "I don't want to call," Maggie objected. "It would only give him satisfaction if I do. He's probably waiting at the office for me to complain."

  "Well, you can't expect a judge to take this too seriously if you haven't given proper notification of the problem."

  Maggie chewed her lip. "I guess that's so. But with heat or without, I'm not about to leave here."

  "As a matter of fact, you shouldn't go to a motel or anything like that," Chad agreed. "If it looks like you've moved out, the whole thing's a moot point."

  Karr wasn't in the office; Maggie was almost disappointed in him. She left her name with his answering service and did five minutes' worth of aerobics to get her blood circulating. Then she filled the tea kettle and called the pizza delivery service. She'd been craving pizza ever since Karr had caused her to turn the last one into a cinder—what better night to indulge herself with something hot and spicy?

  She made her pot of tea, then stripped the down comforter off her bed and dragged it over to the library table. She bunched up a blanket nearby for Tripp, but he seemed taken with the comforter instead. As soon as Maggie settled down at the table again, he crept under the edge of it, propped his chin on her woolly socks, and gave a satisfied sigh.

  She buried herself in work once more. The main structure of the section was roughed out, but now the really difficult part started. Getting the eight extra pages was a blessing, but even with the additional room, every word was going to have to count.

  And there was still a pile of manuscripts to read…

  Maggie didn't realize how involved she'd gotten till she reached for her cup of tea and found it cold. The
pot had lost most of its warmth as well, and she glanced at the clock above the library table with astonishment, and then a trace of consternation. Her pizza should have come by now, but there had been no buzz from downstairs. She wouldn't put it past Karr to have fiendishly disconnected the doorbells, too—just in case the lack might prove annoying.

  Well, she'd just go down and wait. Surely it wouldn't be long now.

  Tripp raised his head and growled. Maggie was amused by the way his voice was muffled by the thickness of the comforter, until she heard the indistinct sound which must have caused him to rouse. It sounded like someone was coming slowly up the stairs. But Libby was gone, and the pizza delivery man never came past the main door…

  "It's a ghost, no doubt," she mocked. Probably the long-dead original owner of her apartment. He'd waited seventy-odd years to return, and then coincidentally chose the very first night Maggie was alone to start haunting his former home…

  Right, she ridiculed herself. And he was a polite ghost, too—for he knocked at the door instead of walking straight on through! She struggled out of the enveloping comforter and fumbled for her wallet.

  Tripp escorted her to the door and barked furiously at the sight of Karr with a pizza box balanced on one upraised hand like a waiter's tray.

  He made a face at the dog and turned to Maggie. "What's the matter with you? You look like you've seen a… Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

  "You didn't, particularly. Too bad you didn't think of dragging a few chains along-it would have been much more effective."

  He looked interested. "I'll remember that in case I have insomnia and need something to do in the middle of the night."

  Maggie said tartly, "I'm glad it takes so little to entertain you."

  "Oh, I didn't say haunting was my favorite pastime for the wee hours," he began.

  "Never mind. May I ask how you happened to end up with my pizza? Isn't your business doing well?" Mock consternation crept into her voice. "Have you had to start moonlighting?"

  "As a matter of fact, my business isn't doing quite as well as last week—before I met you. But I haven't taken a second job just yet. I happened to meet the delivery man at the end of the drive, so I offered to save him the trip and bring this up, since I was coming anyway."

  "You're so incorrigibly helpful, Karr. You could have just phoned me."

  "Oh, no," he said earnestly. "Not when you'd left a special message for me."

  "I left my name, that's all."

  "That's what I mean. Since you didn't tell the service what it was about, I assumed it must be personal. I wouldn't have bothered you otherwise, you see—I hadn't forgotten my promise to leave you alone till Wednesday. But when you seemed to need me…"

  "I need you like a gorilla needs a bodyguard." Maggie took the box out of his hands. "I'll bet you're here because you couldn't stand the suspense. You just had to come out to see the effects of your little experiment."

  Karr followed her into the apartment. "What experiment? And what suspense? I decided days ago to expect the worst from you so I'd never have to suffer suspense any more. It saves such a lot of effort, you see."

  Maggie was annoyed that he hadn't given himself away. "I mean the little matter of heat," she snapped.

  "I was going to ask you about that. Don't you believe in it? It's damned unpleasant in here, and the toupee looks like he has frostbite."

  Maggie gritted her teeth. "That's because there is no heat. The boiler seems to have—accidentally, of course—gone on the blink."

  Karr looked at her admiringly. "You know, I'll bet when you really get rolling the sarcasm just drips off your tongue. Is that why you called me? I'll be happy to light a fire to keep you warm."

  "That wouldn't do much good—the fireplace hasn't worked for years."

  The gleam in his eyes was particularly wicked. "Who's talking about fireplaces?"

  Maggie choked. If he meant more personal, intimate, internal sorts of fires. The mere implication seemed to warm her blood. She was annoyed to find that she was so suggestible.

  "If you'll excuse me a minute," Karr said innocently, "I'll run down and check the boiler out."

  Maggie got her breath back, finally. "And correct whatever you did to it?"

  He paused at the door, frowning. "What I did to it?"

  Against her better judgment, Maggie's convictions wavered. Was he really that good an actor? "You didn't?"

  "I regret to say the idea of fiddling with the furnace didn't even occur to me. I'll be back in a minute."

  Tripp had followed him to the door, and he started barking triumphantly as he realized that he'd finally routed the enemy.

  Karr surveyed the dog with distaste. "In the meantime, you might stick the toupee in the oven so he won't chill out completely. About five hundred degrees for half an hour should do it."

  "Oh, I'm sure he'll be fine, now that you've got his heart pounding with excitement."

  "It was worth a try," Karr muttered.

  Maggie put the pizza in the oven instead. This time, remembering what had happened to the last one, she set the timer.

  A few minutes later, she was pouring boiling water over a fresh set of tea bags when the radiators began to clatter and bang—a welcome racket that meant steam was once more rising in the pipes.

  A couple of minutes later Karr came back. "The pilot light had gone out. I couldn't find any obvious reason for it, but maybe the boiler didn't realize you were still here and decided to take a vacation."

  "Or maybe somebody turned it off."

  "You've got a nasty cynical twist, don't you, Rawlings? If I had shut off the pilot light, I'd have made damned sure the gas was off, too."

  She blinked. "It wasn't?"

  "Nope. That's what took so long—I had to air the basement out before I could relight the boiler, or the whole place could have gone up with a boom."

  "Oh," she said, in a very small voice.

  The glance he cast at her was casually sympathetic. "Don't panic—it's not likely to happen again. I'll have it checked out tomorrow, but it was probably just a downdraft from the wrong direction that blew the flame out. The doors have been open a lot today; I'm sure, with the Montgomery’s moving."

  That made sense; she'd reasoned herself that the boiler must have quit hours ago.

  "Thanks," Maggie managed. She felt like a worm for suspecting him. After all, there was no question about her right to stay in the apartment till Wednesday, with all the usual amenities. And he had promised to leave her alone till then.

  "It's nothing. I certainly wouldn't want the place to blow up with you inside it."

  She didn't quite know what to say about that; his voice had a huskier-than usual edge that actually sounded sincere, and it made her feel just a little shaky inside.

  "All the talk of ghosts tonight might give you ideas about spending eternity here," he went on easily, "and then I'd have to deal with you forever."

  Maggie glared at him. "You deserve to be haunted!"

  The oven timer buzzed, and he sniffed appreciatively as Maggie slid the pizza onto the butcher-block counter. "All that food you brought home yesterday," he said, "and you're eating pizza?"

  "I didn't feel like cooking." She fought a brief battle with her conscience, and surrendered; he had done her a very good turn tonight—keeping her from being blown up or gassed—and the least she could do was offer to share her pizza. "Would you like some? There's plenty."

  Karr hesitated just long enough to make her wonder whether he was suspicious or merely astonished. Then he said, "Sure," and smiled.

  It was a slower, warmer, and even more heart-rocking smile than Maggie had seen before, and she had to look away in order to fight the sudden all-gone feeling in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't fair, she thought. She didn't even like the man…

  Don't you? Said a little voice at the back of her mind. If she'd met him under other circumstances, and if he wasn't trying to make her leave her home…

  But s
he hadn't, and he was—and that ended the matter, of course. Didn't it?

  She put plates and mugs on a tray, and Karr carried the hot pizza pan into the living room. "At least there's the illusion of warmth when one sits in front of a fireplace," he said. "Even an empty one. Are you sure this thing doesn't work?"

  "I was told when I moved in that it hadn't been used in twenty years."

  "But you didn't try it out for yourself?"

  "If you're trying to con me into smoking myself out, it won't work, Karr. You're the one who said there's all kinds of loose brick up there."

  "I'd forgotten telling you that. In any case, who wants to carry wood all the way up the stairs? I think my idea for keeping warm was a better one."

  His voice was lazy and smooth, lapping over her like warm, soapy water caressing delicate skin. Maggie didn't look at him. She settled down on one of the couches and picked up the teapot. "Personally, I think a gas log would be the best idea of all."

  Karr sighed. "Is there really no romance in your soul?"

  "No. But there's beer in the refrigerator—you'll have to settle for that."

  He laughed. "The tea's fine." He waited till she'd poured, then he picked up the blanket she'd tossed on the floor for Tripp and sat down next to her, tucking the wool throw solicitously around both of them.

  Maggie could feel the heat radiating from his body.

  She raised an eyebrow at him, and Karr said easily, "Well, since you didn't like my first idea for keeping you warm, this is a compromise. It'll take a while for the boiler to build up enough pressure to push steam all the way up here."

  There wasn't any point in protesting, she decided. Whatever she said, he'd have a snappy answer. She'd just make sure he didn't think she was affected in any way. As long as he didn't realize that the warmth of his body seemed to be soaking into her muscles and melting them like jelly over an open flame… Enough, she told herself. She really must keep a little better control of her thoughts.

  She tried to sound prim. "It's nice to be warm again."

  Karr grinned. "Isn't it, though?" he murmured, and slid an arm around her shoulders.