‘‘Unless,’’ Rusty said slowly, ‘‘someone was forging signatures or something.’’
That hadn’t occurred to her and she felt better immediately. Maybe Cathie really hadn’t had anything to do with embezzling the money.
She refused dessert on the grounds that she had a lot of work waiting, and parted company with Rusty soon afterward. As she drove back to the sanctuary, her mind was whirling with thoughts. She’d have to look at some of those cancelled checks again. If it had been done electronically, it would be much more difficult to find.
Kristin’s date that evening was fun. Rod, the man she’d met when he came to do some electrical work with the shelter, had told her to dress casually. She was glad she’d heeded his advice and worn a pair of her new denim shorts.
He took her miniature golfing, then to dinner at a Mexican restaurant where they sat outside on a small stone terrace and drank margaritas while their dinners were made. Rod’s partner in his business joined them with a date of his own, and although Kristin had never met either of them before, they were pleasant and amusing dinner companions.
He drove a small, modern sports car with a convertible top and he’d folded it down at her request. Rod was unquestionably attractive. He was in great shape, his sense of humor was wicked yet not unkind and his friends were as nice as he was.
And yet she felt a little deflated at the end of the evening when he walked her to her door. She caught herself comparing him to Derek at least five times that evening and she was thoroughly annoyed that she couldn’t even go out on a date without thoughts of the wretched man intruding.
Rod, unaware of her mood, slid an arm around her waist as they walked toward her stoop. At the door, he brought her to a halt, turning to face her. ‘‘I had a great time this evening, Kristin.’’
‘‘So did I,’’ she forced herself to say lightly.
‘‘I’d like to see you again.’’
‘‘It was fun,’’ she said without committing herself. ‘‘I enjoyed meeting Kevin and Leslie.’’
‘‘How about if I call you next week and we see if we can schedule another get-together?’’
‘‘All right.’’ She hadn’t actually said she’d go out with him, she told herself. All she’d agreed to was receiving his phone call.
He looked down at her, then put his hands on her shoulders and drew her near. She lifted her face for his kiss, allowing the gentle pressure for a moment before drawing back a fraction, and with a last warm smile, Rod said, ‘‘Good night.’’
‘‘Good night.’’ She waved him off and stood on the stoop for a moment before she turned and unlocked her door. Rats. What had she been hoping for? Fireworks? Rod’s kiss had been pleasant, but there was no zing. At least, not on her part.
She went inside and shut her door, then leaned back against it, thinking. It hadn’t left her breathless and shaking, the way she’d felt after that first night Derek had kissed her. It hadn’t left her wanting more, wanting to press herself against every hard inch of him, wanting his hands to touch all the secret, throbbing parts of her that quivered with desire.
A knock on the door scared her so badly she actually gave a small scream as she leaped away from the cool surface against which she’d been lingering. One hand flew to the base of her throat. ‘‘Who is it?’’ she called cautiously, pushing the small button that illuminated her watch face. Good grief. It was after eleven. Who in the world—
‘‘It’s Derek. Let me in, Kris.’’
Six
Kristin turned and stared at the closed door. Derek? How could that be? Then she realized that it must be his Friday night on call. He and another local vet took turns covering weekends to give each other a break. But—
‘‘Where’s Mollie?’’ she asked as she pulled the door open.
‘‘Faye’s daughter Sissy is keeping her overnight since I’m on call,’’ he said tersely. ‘‘Who was that? And didn’t you ever learn you shouldn’t kiss a guy after a first date?’’
She fought back twin surges of jealousy and irritation. Mollie had never had a baby-sitter other than Kristin or Faye before. And what was he doing questioning her?
‘‘You’re getting really tiresome,’’ she told him. ‘‘How do you know that was our first date? As I know I’ve said before, I have no intention of telling you about the men in my life.’’ She lifted her chin and started to close the door in his face. ‘‘Now if that’s all you came by for, I’d like you to leave.’’
Derek slapped his palm flat against the door, easily preventing her from closing it. ‘‘Wait.’’ She heard him inhale a deep breath, then slowly release it. ‘‘Kris, just wait a minute.’’ He took a deep breath. ‘‘Can I come in?’’
She let a tense silence fall while she debated the wisdom of allowing him to enter. But finally, her desire for his company won out over common sense. ‘‘All right.’’ She stepped back and opened the door. ‘‘But one more question about anything that’s none of your business, and you’re history, buddy.’’
She hadn’t even turned on any lights yet, and the room was barely illuminated by a small crystal lamp whose base she had switched on before she left. She started to move away from him, but Derek caught her hand. ‘‘Kris?’’
‘‘What?’’ She avoided looking up at him. Her whole body was tingling with a vivid awareness of how close he was, her breathing coming ridiculously fast, her pulse hammering. Why couldn’t she have had this reaction when Rod kissed her? Derek had barely touched her and already he’d gotten more of a physical response from her than poor Rod had the entire evening.
It was a joke, she decided. A great big cosmic trick, that she would have such intense, serious hots for the one guy who absolutely didn’t want her.
Well, perhaps he wanted her, she thought, recalling that heated kiss in his kitchen, but he didn’t want to, which might be even worse.
Then Derek took her other hand and turned her toward him, and she forgot about everything else. ‘‘I’m sorry,’’ he said, and his voice rang with sincerity. ‘‘I didn’t come over here to fight with you.’’
She nodded once. ‘‘Apology accepted.’’ She hesitated. ‘‘So why did you come here tonight? It’s not exactly a prime visiting hour.’’
He smiled, clearly recognizing the conversational olive branch she was extending. ‘‘I was called in for an emergency this evening and I just finished. I don’t really know why I’m here. I just…came by.’’
He sounded as baffled as she felt. ‘‘All right.’’ She strove for normalcy despite the fact that he was still holding both her hands. ‘‘Would you like some iced tea? I made decaf yesterday.’’
He shook his head. ‘‘No tea.’’ His hands tightened as he pulled her closer. ‘‘Did you enjoy his kiss?’’
She stiffened immediately, averting her face, but he ignored her struggles, folding her against him and holding her there with disgusting ease.
‘‘I hope not.’’ His breath was warm in her ear, his voice a rough velvet rope twining around her and inexorably drawing her closer. ‘‘The first time I kissed you, you enjoyed it. So did I. I haven’t been able to think about anything but kissing you since then.’’ He cupped her cheek in one big hand and tipped up her chin with his thumb, and his eyes were dark and intense. ‘‘I didn’t come here for tea or talk, Kris. I came for your kiss.’’
Dear God. How was she