Page 21 of The Promise
They both turned sharply at the sound of a key in the lock. Cara reacted first. "Quick, get in the bedroom."
He stood rooted to the spot, watching the doorway to the mud room with narrowed eyes. "Who do you think it is?" The words erupted with a staccato burst.
"My housekeeper. She probably just came by to drop off some supplies. Now, go." She tried to keep her voice on an even note, but a thread of anxiety slipped in. "She wouldn't endanger you, but to be safe, I think you should stay out of sight. I'll try to get rid of her."
Michael considered her words and finally, with a terse nod, spun on his heels and disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him.
Forcing a smile, she walked forward ready to deal with Roberta.
"Cara? Are you in there?"
She came full stop, her mind shifting gears, confusion warring with surprise.Not Roberta. Nick Vargas. Buthedidn't have a key. As if to contradict the fact, the man belonging to the voice stepped out of the mud room, a key dangling from one finger. She frowned. How the hell had Nick gotten a key to her house?
"There you are, darling." He smiled beguilingly. "Why didn't you answer the door?"
She eyed him warily. He was good looking in a smooth sort of way. All blond hair and tanned skin, his face youthful in appearance. One would never guess that he was over forty. "I was in the shower." She waved a hand absently at her robe. "How is it you happen to have a key to my house?"
"I sweet-talked Roberta into letting me borrow hers." The smile broadened, impishly charming, intended no doubt to disarm, but Cara wasn't buying. She'd known Nick most of her life. As a young man, he hadn't paid any attention to her. She'd been little more than a child. But now that she'd returned to Colorado as an adult, things had changed.
He'd been pursuing her diligently. Offering picnics in the mountains, moonlit hikes, even the pretense of being interested in her paintings. Until today, however, he'd been more of a nuisance than anything else. And despite it all, she'd managed to keep him at arm's length without being rude. But, just at the moment, he was pushing his luck.
"Why would you need a key, Nick?" She tried to keep her voice neutral, but couldn't stop the tremor of anger that colored her words.
"Why, Cara mia, you wound me with your suspicions."
"Don't call me that."
He reached out and twined a rebellious strand of her hair around his finger, tugging slightly so that she was forced to step closer. "Little Cara, always playing hard to get." His eyes raked downwards, stripping the robe off with a look.
She pulled her hair free and stepped back, pressing the lapels of her robe together.
"Nick, you haven't told me why you're here."
He leaned against the counter, crossing his long legs, his perfectly creased pants riding up to show argyle socks. Cara sighed and waited.
"I was worried."
"Worried? About what?" She frowned, puzzled by the turn of the conversation.
A loud thud echoed from the bedroom. Nick glanced at the closed door, golden eyebrows raised in question.
"The cat." Cara plastered on what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
"I didn't know you had a cat."
She racked her brains for a reasonable answer. She had never been a good liar. "She's new—to keep me from getting lonely." She met his gaze, holding hers steady.
He smiled slowly. "You don't need a cat, Cara mia. You have me." His tone was teasing, but the banter wasn't reflected in his eyes.
She ignored the remark and the endearment. "I asked you why you were worried."
He shrugged. "I was afraid something had happened to you."
Well that was an understatement. She tried to keep her face pleasantly neutral, sort of the prom-queen-stuck-on-a-float look. "Why would you think something happened to me?"
"Because,darling." He paused provocatively and the word ran down her spine, curling around her, suffocating her. "You stood me up."
"I did?" She eyed him skeptically.
