Scanlin's Law. Susan Amarillas

Brody?” he retorted sharply.

      “Maybe I will,” she told him, ignoring his sarcasm.

      “Rebecca!” His thin brows shot up. “I absolutely won’t allow it! You can’t possibly mean—”

      “Oh, honestly, Edward. Don’t be such a...a...banker. Don’t carry on so.” She wisely decided against being too pointed and telling him his worrying was beginning to annoy her greatly.

      He toyed with the gold charm that sparkled on his watch chain. She was braced for another lecture when he surprised her. “Now, Rebecca, your determination to find a story is admirable, of course. And I’m certain you think you’re doing good, but—”

      He broke off and strolled to the piano, putting his empty glass down on the gleaming surface. “I’m sorry, my dear. This is neither the time nor the place to discuss this. I’m only upsetting you. Please forgive my thoughtlessness. Come. Walk me to the door.”

      As he picked up his hat, he said, “Is there anything I can do to help? Anything at all?”

      “No, nothing. Thank you, Edward.” She offered her hand, which he took. “Marshal Scanlin’s helping, and the police, too. There’s really nothing for you to do.”

      She was reaching to open the door when, without a word, Edward kissed her—and not on the cheek this time.

      Surprise flashed in her eyes. “Edward, what’s come over you?”

      “I detest leaving you,” he said, and squeezed her hand. “If we were married, dearest Rebecca, I’d be here for you all the time. You wouldn’t have to go through this, or anything else, alone again.”

      “Edward, surely you can’t expect me to think about marriage now?”

      He pressed her hand against his heart in a gesture that was more dramatic than effective. “Why not? If we were married, I could hold you in my arms all through the night....”

      “Edward! Please, remember yourself!” She pulled free of his grasp.

      “You care for me, I know you do—”

      “Yes, but—”

      He tried to pull her to him again, and she braced both hands against his chest in denial, her fingers digging into smooth gabardine. “Edward, we’ve been friends for years.”

      “Liking each other is important, don’t you think?”

      “Well, yes, but...what about love?”

      His blue eyes softened. “You know that I love you.”

      She sighed. “Yes, but I don’t feel...I don’t think—”

      “You will come to love me, in time, I’m certain,” he said. “We have the same interests, the same goals. It’s so much more than most have, starting out.”

      “Edward,” she said firmly, easily pulling free of his touch and stepping out of his reach. “I can’t think now...not about this.”

      “All right, Rebecca. I understand.” His tone contradicted his words. “It’s just that seeing you reminds me how wonderful it could be. Think of what we could do together, with you at my side. The Tinsdale name linked with mine. I’m certain to be the next mayor.” He shrugged and smiled. “All you have to say is yes.”

      Rebecca touched his arm affectionately, yet with regret, too. “You are the dearest man I know. You were my friend when Nathan died and I was so lost. Without you and Ruth, I couldn’t have managed. And I do care for you, but not—”

      “Let’s put this conversation aside, and we’ll take it up later, after Andrew is home and everything is back to normal,” he interrupted. “You’ll see. Andrew will be home safely, and we will be together.”

      With a light brush of his lips on her cheek, he left, closing the door with a gentle snap.

      For a long moment, she stood there, staring at the smooth wood, wondering what the devil was wrong with her. Edward was dear. He was right when he said they were good together. And she was certain that Edward would follow his dream—perhaps even to the governor’s mansion and beyond.

      What woman in her right mind wouldn’t dream of accompanying a man on such an exciting journey? She should be thrilled. Perhaps she should even love him. Trouble was, she didn’t.

      She started up the stairs, then stopped abruptly. “How long have you been standing there?”

      Luke stood on the landing. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the banister as if he owned the place, and her. He had an infuriatingly arrogant grin on his face. “So that’s the competition.”

      He straightened. It was then that she realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt. The man was half-naked, and heart-stoppingly gorgeous. It gave her heart a lurch. A warm blush popped out on her cheeks, like two rosebuds. She was staring right at his chest, and at the provocative curve of black hair that arched over each nipple, then plunged down his chest and disappeared into his waistband.

      Her gaze flicked to his face. He had a wicked look in his eyes—hot enough to boil water.

      Rebecca tore her gaze away, but stayed firmly rooted to the bottom stair. She wasn’t going up there now. Not now! And she wasn’t going to let him know that looking at him was turning her knees to oatmeal.

      So, with as much firmness as she could muster, she said, “You don’t have any competition.”

      His grin was immediate and devastating. “You’re right about that, Princess. I don’t, and thanks for the reassurance.”