Heart of Ice

“What does your boyfriend do for a living?” he asked unexpectedly.

“Jack isn’t my boyfriend,” she said. “He’s a man I date. And he’s a political reporter for the New York Times.”

He leaned back in his chair while Ada bit her lower lip and looked apprehensive.

“Is he really?” Egan asked. “He doesn’t look like he gets much exercise. A little overweight, wouldn’t you say?”

She glared at him. “He works very hard.”

He only laughed, and sipped his coffee. “If I took him home with me, I could break him in one day.”

“You could break the devil in one day,” Kati said, exasperated. “What business is it of yours who I date?”

“Now, that’s a good question,” he replied. His eyes narrowed, and there was a smile she didn’t understand on his chiseled lips. “Maybe I feel sorry for the poor man. He does know what you do for a living, doesn’t he? Must be hell on him, having everything he does to you turn up in a book…”

“Egan.” Ada groaned, hiding her face in her hands.

“You overbearing, unspeakable, mean-tempered…” Kati began in a low tone. She threw her napkin down onto the table and stood up.

“You sure got up on the wrong side of the bed,” Egan commented. “Here I am a guest in your apartment—”

“I’d sooner invite a cobra to breakfast!” she burst out.

“You should have,” he murmured, glancing at the plate he’d just emptied. “He might have enjoyed burned eggs and half-raw bacon.”

She tried to speak, couldn’t, and just stormed out of the room.

She left the apartment before Ada could get out of the kitchen, and wandered around the streets shivering in her thin jacket for an hour before she gave up and went back. It was too cold for pride, anyway. All she’d accomplished was to let Egan see how unreasonably she reacted to his prodding. She’d just have to grit her teeth, for Ada’s sake.

Egan was nowhere in sight when she got back, and Ada looked apologetic and worn.

“I don’t understand him, I just don’t,” Ada groaned. “Oh, Kati, I’m sorry. If I’d realized how bad things were between you, I’d never have invited him.”

Kati was generous enough not to remind her friend that she’d tried to warn her. She sat down on the sofa with a hard sigh.

“I’ll manage. Where is he?” she added darkly.

“Gone to spend the day with some girlfriend of his,” Ada said absently. “He said he might not be back until late.”

Why that simple statement should make her feel murderous, Kati didn’t know. But something gnawed inside her at the thought of Egan with another woman.

“I wonder how much he had to bribe her?” she asked nastily.

“Shame on you,” Ada said.

But Kati didn’t apologize. And she didn’t dwell on her confused emotions, either. She wanted no complications in her life, especially with someone like Egan Winthrop.

She and Ada went shopping later in the day and ate out at a little Italian restaurant just down the street from their apartment. They watched television and eventually went to bed. And Egan didn’t come back. Not that night. Not until the next morning.

Kati was sitting on the living room floor with pages littering the area around her. They were galleys of her latest book, which had come that morning by special messenger, and she was going over them. Ada was at auditions for a new play, hoping to be home by lunch if she didn’t get held up at the theater during tryouts. That was a laugh. Most of the time, it took hours. Despite the appointments the hopefuls were given, something always went wrong. Ada had never gotten back when she thought she would, and Kati was dreading Egan’s arrival. She felt wild when she thought of his not coming in at all, and angry because she didn’t understand why. She didn’t even like the man, for God’s sake!

There was a loud knock at the door an hour later, and when she opened it, Egan was standing there looking faintly amused and as immaculate as when he’d left. Still in the same clothes, of course….

She glared at him. “Lose your key?” she asked.

“I thought I’d better not use it, in case you were…entertaining,” he said.

She let him in, slammed the door and went back to her comfortable sprawl on the floor.

“Coffee’s hot if you want some,” she said icily. “I’m busy reading.”

“Don’t let me interrupt you. I thought I’d have a quick shower and change clothes. I’ve got a lunch date.”

Why, oh, why did she feel like smashing plates? She frowned and concentrated on what she was doing. Minutes later, he was back, dressed in a navy blue pinstripe suit with a white silk shirt and a blue and burgundy tie. He looked regal. Sexy. Unbelievably handsome for such an ugly man. If he was dressing like that in the middle of the day, he must be on his way to the Waldorf, she thought. And God only knew with whom.

“Ada didn’t worry, did she?” he asked, checking his watch.

“Oh, no. She’s used to people staying out all night,” she lied deliberately, lifting her eyes. It shocked her, the flash of reaction in his face before it was quickly erased.

His eyes ran over her: the gray slacks and burgundy silk blouse she was wearing, her feet hose-clad and without shoes. Her hair was loose, and flowed in waves of reddish gold silk down her shoulders; her face was rosy and full of life.

His scrutiny made her nervous, and she dropped her eyes back to the page she was reading.

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