Bravo Unwrapped. Christine Rimmer

well,” said Chastity with a serene little smile. The cat looked up at Buck’s mother and twitched its caramel-colored tail. Chastity petted it as she turned her attention back to her book.

      Buck said nothing. Why? What was he thinking? What did his silence mean?

      Bad questions. Pointless questions. Keyword: disengage. B.J. turned for the stairs.

      He fell in behind her. He walked softly. Still, she could feel him at her back all the way up the stairs and down the hall to their side-by-side rooms. She had her key ready. She slid it smoothly into the lock and pushed the door open. Stepping swiftly in, she turned to shut it behind her—to shut him out. She almost made it, too.

      At the last possible second, he said, “Five minutes.”

      Disengage, disengage. Without a word, she shut the door the rest of the way and shot the bolt, heard that reassuring click as the lock slid home. She turned with a groan and sagged against the door.

      “Shit,” she said to the empty room. Five minutes. What did that mean?