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because of a few scratches.”

      He was curious about the project she’d mentioned but more concerned about her safety. He narrowed his gaze. “You’re not planning on heading back to the park, are you?”

      Her shoulders stiffened and she lifted her chin a determined notch. Not a good indication that he’d get his wish on this. And definitely not a sign she was pleased with his interference, either.

      She let out a slow exhale. “Any reason why I shouldn’t go back there?”

      “Other than the obvious?” Much as he’d love to back off and respect her independence, he couldn’t.

      “No punk kid is going to run me off. I come from stronger stock than that and I don’t respond to threats.”

      “Threats? Threats? What haven’t you told me, Grace?”

      She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again, clamping her jaw tight. Apparently she’d decided not to let him in on whatever he’d missed back at the park. If she thought keeping secrets would deter him, she was wrong.

      “Grace?”

      She bit down on her lower lip. The same lip he’d kissed, and sucked into his mouth minutes earlier. He stifled a groan and concentrated on what was important: her safety.

      She shook her head. “You’re doing it again, you know. Changing the subject.”

      “If you ask me, you’re doing the same thing.”

      She grinned. “But we’re talking about you.” She stepped closer. “And you’re avoiding the fact that I had a question of my own. I want to know about you.”

      He shook his head in exasperation. Emma was right. Grace needed a keeper. Like it or not, he’d have to stick close at least until he knew more about the threats she’d mentioned, and until he discovered what was behind today’s attack. Suddenly it didn’t seem as random as he’d originally thought.

      He spread his palms wide and played along, treating her to an easy grin. “Ask away. I’m an open book.”

      “Good. Then you won’t mind telling me how long you’re staying across the hall?”

      He lifted her chin and looked into those brown eyes. “I wouldn’t mind at all, if I didn’t think you had an ulterior motive. What’s up, Gracie?”

      She stepped closer, until he could inhale her scent and practically taste her glistening lips. “I just want to know how long I have to seduce you.”

      

      SEDUCE HIM. Grace had uttered those words with such complete certainty that even twenty-four hours later Ben was still aroused. The hell of it was, he didn’t think he could deny her if faced with an all-out assault. One he felt certain would come. Grace now knew she had three weeks to act—or not act, if he had his way.

      After her proclamation, he’d answered her question and made a quick exit. She should have taken the hint. But her soft laughter had followed behind him, telling him she didn’t consider his hasty retreat a defeat. Considering the feelings rioting inside him, she had every reason to feel victorious.

      If it were just her sexuality he had to deal with, Ben felt certain he could easily maintain his professional distance. Instead he found himself faced with a beautiful woman he also respected and admired. Walking away from her trust fund when it would have been easier to give in and live easy, spending her days at the park to give back to society—he’d yet to discover what that meant, but he sensed great import behind her words. She was generous, caring and gutsy. And though he’d withdrawn last night, he didn’t know if he’d have the strength to do it again.

      What Grace didn’t know or understand were the reasons for that withdrawal. So far she hadn’t asked. But she would. And he couldn’t give the simplest explanation without revealing he was being paid to investigate her and he wouldn’t betray a client’s trust without permission. Emma’s trust had to come before his personal feelings, never mind the money he’d see from this case.

      But he never wanted to face Grace’s wrath should she ever discover he’d deceived her. He felt guilty enough as it was and guilt was an emotion alien to him when dealing with the subject of an investigation—another clear sign Ben was in too deep.

      He hooked a hose up to the building’s outside spigot and dragged it over to his car. The high-rise boasted not only a doorman, but a circular driveway with plenty of room to spare. The super, being a car fanatic himself, hadn’t minded Ben’s request to hand-wash his old Mustang outside the building. He needed the distraction even more than his car needed cleaning.

      He squeezed the sprayer on the hose and began watering down his car. As he bent for the bucket of soapy water, an uncomfortable sensation of being watched pricked at him. He shook off the feeling, knowing he was surrounded by high-rise apartment buildings and windows galore.

      Impossible, Ben thought. But the longer he stayed there, the stronger the feeling grew.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      GRACE LOWERED THE CAMERA and placed it down on her dresser. A light sheen of perspiration tickled the back of her neck and blood was pumping fast and furious through her system—a result of both watching Ben and worrying about the day to come. She stretched, arching her back and feeling her sore muscles from yesterday’s struggle with her attacker. She shivered at the reminder and decided some raw courage was in order.

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