Now You See Her Linda Howard(19)

He was smiling, but the smile quickly faded at the sight of her standing there swaddled in a blanket.

His dark gaze went swiftly down her, then returned to her face. "Are you sick?" he asked in a brusque tone, stepping forward so that he crowded her back, and that easily he was inside her apartment. He closed the door and reset the locks.

"No, just cold." She moved away from the dangerously close proximity to him, scowling. "What are you doing here?" She felt terribly off-balance; she wasn't prepared to see Richard at all, much less be alone with him in her apartment. This was her sanctuary, where she could let down the guard she always kept between herself and the rest of the world, where she could relax and paint and be herself.

Closing the door behind her often felt as if she had left a ton of chains in the hallway. Here she was free, but she could be free only if she was alone.

"I came to take you to lunch."

"I told you no yesterday afternoon." She hugged the blanket around her, suddenly self-conscious about how she must look. She was still wearing sweats, and she hadn't brushed her hair, so she knew it was bushed around her head in a wild tangle. A long curl hung in her eyes; she pushed it back and blushed, then scowled. She didn't like the feeling of embarrassment. She couldn't remember the last time she had cared what someone thought of how she looked, but… but Richard was different. She didn't want him to be, but he was.

"That was for dinner." He eyed her critically, moving forward even more, frowning as he registered the heat in the apartment. "Why do you have it so hot in here?"

"I told you, I'm cold." Despite herself, her voice sounded querulous. He reached out and placed a warm hand on her forehead. She would have jerked back, but the warmth felt so good she felt herself lean a little into his hand.

A slight frown knit his forehead. "You don't seem to be feverish. "

"Of course I'm not. I just told you, I'm cold."

"Then something is wrong, because it's hot in here."

"Says the man wearing a jacket." She sniffed in disdain and moved away from him to reclaim her seat in the corner of the couch, curling into herself for warmth.

He wasn't the least put off by her snappishness. "It's called a suit," he said, sitting down beside her.

"Do you feel ill in any other way?"

"I don't feel ill at all. I'm just cold."

He regarded her stubbornly set face for a moment. "You know that isn't normal."

"Maybe my internal thermostat's messed up," she muttered, though she didn't really think so. The coldness had begun with the change, so she had thought there was nothing she could do about it. On the other hand, the thought that she might actually be ill wasn't any more welcome. She didn't have time for illness, so she refused to be ill. It was that simple.



His dark eyes were sharp and probing as he continued to study her. "How long has this been going on?"

If she hadn't been so cold, she could have asserted herself, but it was difficult to sound assertive when anything she said was filtered through chattering teeth. Rather than appear ridiculous, she said, "I stay cold, most of the time, but this is the worst it's been."

"You need to see a doctor," he said decisively. "Come on, get dressed and I'll take you."

"Forget it." Pulling the blanket closer, Sweeney rested her head on her knees. Deciding to turn the pressure on him, she said, "You should have called before you came over."

"So you could tell me not to come? That's why I didn't call." He touched her hand and frowned at the iciness of her fingers. "Well, I can't go out, and you can bet your last penny I'm not going to cook for you. "

"I don't expect you to." He was still frowning as he watched her, half turned toward her with one arm resting along the back of the couch. She clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering, wishing he would go. He was too close, and she was too cold. A woman couldn't muster her defenses when she had to concentrate on shivering.

"Okay," he said, getting to his feet as if he had made a decision. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and shrugged out of it. "What are you doing?" Sweeney demanded, sitting up in alarm. Even as she said it, the question struck her as stupid, since obviously she could see what he was doing. It was the why that alarmed her.

"Getting you warm. " He plucked the blanket from her grasp and pulled it away. Before she could protest, he settled his jacket around her shoulders.

The warmth was almost shocking. She inhaled sharply in relief as the heat sank into her spine. My God, the man must be like a furnace, for his jacket to absorb that much of his body heat. The sensation was so delicious she didn't notice him sitting down again until he scooped her onto his lap.

She went rigid with a brief moment of panic, then pushed hard at him as she swung one foot to the floor so she could stand. To her astonishment, he simply wrapped his arms around her and gathered her in as if she were a child, lifting her feet onto the couch and holding her close. He tucked the blanket around both of them, making sure her feet were covered.

"Body heat," he said calmly. "That's one of the first things they taught us in army survival courses, to huddle together when we got cold."

Sweeney stilled, lured both by the incredible warmth wrapping around her and by the image his words brought up in her mind. She couldn't help smiling. "I can just see all you tough young soldiers cuddling together."