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  She hoped that her fickle friend would take the hint and invest herself in someone who seemed to know what he wanted. The overly particular Helen went through boyfriends almost as fast as Nick went through women—though she probably averaged three strikes to his one.

  Riley seemed surprised that she was leaving. “You’re in some hurry tonight.”

  Picking up her coffee, she joked, “I’ve got a hot date waiting for me.”

  Easier than having to explain that she was eager to get home to a cat.

  “Have a good one.”

  Streetlights glowed bright against the dark, moonless night as Annie set off on foot up Milwaukee Avenue, drinking her coffee. As usual, she glanced in the store windows that lined the first few blocks, mentally critiquing the displays.

  Too conservative…too kitschy…too avant garde. None touched her or sparked her imagination.

  Being a city person, she was used to walking, and quite enjoyed her “commute,” especially after being cooped up in the store all day. And the near mile to and from work helped to keep her in shape. Walking also gave her quiet time to think.

  Taking another sip of the coffee, she considered her friends’ reactions to the anonymous letter. Maybe she shouldn’t have shared it with Nick and Helen, though she trusted no one more.

  Helen had only reflected a worry that she herself already had about the letter, Annie admitted. Although actually the youngest of the three, Helen had always seemed older than her age and tended to mother her and Nick. In a freaky, intellectual sort of way, that was. On the other hand, Nick hadn’t seemed in the least worried. Then again, not much ever seemed to trouble Nicholas Novak.

  Halfway home, Annie was taking her usual shortcut under the elevated tracks when a train rumbled overhead. She hurried but couldn’t avoid the grit that filtered down on her as the train sped by.

  “Great,” she muttered, pausing to brush the loose particles from her hair and clothing.

  That’s when she heard it—a noise from somewhere behind her. But when she turned, she could see nothing amiss. Only dark and more dark. She hurried off, anyway.

  No matter how fast she walked, she couldn’t leave behind the sensation of someone lurking behind her. The impression stuck to her like glue.

  Her pulse skittered. Her mouth went dry. Her racing heartbeat rushed through her ears.

  Hurrying, she tripped over something she couldn’t see, felt the warmth of her coffee slosh over her hand. Dropping the cup, she practically ran toward the light ahead.

  She was never so glad to set foot on her street.

  Out of breath, she was relieved when an old couple, accompanied by a middle-aged, fit-looking man, left one of the remaining bungalows in the area. She slowed and turned and, walking backward, stared into the darkness she had left, but no danger followed.

  Her imagination?

  Undoubtedly her unease had been prompted by the letter and Helen’s reaction to it, Annie told herself. She was safe.

  Still reassuring herself, she tried not to let her hand shake when she unlocked her door and let herself into her loft—or what would be her loft if she ever got the financing to renovate the former manufacturing building that she’d bought with her inheritance. City inspectors had put their seal on the place so that she could live there, but the space was just that. Space. Potential. Not like a real home at all…except for Rock.

  “Hey, my big boy, did you miss me?” she asked, as the still-scruffy orange-and-white cat wound himself around her ankles. “I’ll bet you’re hungry, aren’t you?”

  Feeding him gave her back a sense of normalcy. As usual, he couldn’t decide which he wanted more—food or her attention. She gave him both together. Running her hand down his back and up his tail as he ate made her feel better.

  As did a microwaved dinner and an abbreviated shower, after which she tried to get into one of the romance novels that sat in a stack next to her bed. Too tired. Her eyes didn’t want to focus on the written page.

  So instead she watched some television, horizontal-style, with a purring Rock on her chest.

  Then the television slowly began to blur…

  She awoke to darkness but for the blue glow emanating from the TV. Disoriented, she lay there, feeling for the remote control device. Her hand encountered it with a force that sent it skidding over the bed and onto the floor.

  “Damn!”

  Hanging over the mattress, she felt for the remote, but instead of finding it, her hand brushed fur. The cat was cowering under the bed.

  “Rock, come out here.”

  But the cat crawled farther underneath.

  “Rock, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

  He growled in answer.

  The short hairs on the back of Annie’s neck stood at attention. He never acted like this. She’d never heard him growl before. What the hell was going on?

  She whipped straight up and peered around, the only light the blue glow from the screen. Her heart thundering, she could hardly swallow.

  There it was, that creepy feeling again.

  Slipping off the bed, she crossed to the door. Locked. She checked the windows. Locked. But Rock was still freaked, still hiding.

  Annie picked up the phone and used speed dial. Helen’s recorded voice answered. She hung up and tried Nick. No answer at all. What to do?

  Call the police? And tell them what? Because her cat was freaked, so was she?

  She hesitated, then hit the third number and counted the rings. One…two…

  “Yeah,” a male voice growled from the other end.

  “It’s Annie Wilder,” she said with a gasp. “I know it’s the middle of the night, but I’m taking you at your word—you said if I needed anything I should call.”

  2

  THROUGH SLEEP-HEAVY EYES, Nate glanced at the glowing numbers of his bedside digital clock and groaned. Nearly four-thirty in the morning.

  “Nathaniel, are you there?” asked the shaky voice over his cell phone. “I—I did get the right number, didn’t I? This is Nathaniel Bishop, right?”

  His brain awakening slowly, Nate finally registered the voice. “Annie? Is that you?”

  “Yeah, it’s me.”

  Could she really be at her shop this late? he wondered. “What’s wrong?”

  Certain that she wouldn’t call him about a washer or a bad outlet or a broken light fixture in the middle of the night, he forced himself fully awake.

  “Maybe nothing, I don’t know, but Rock is freaked and so am I. Helen’s voice mail is taking her calls and I can’t get hold of Nick and I just didn’t know who else to talk to.”

  She jumbled the words together as if she had a time limit to get them out.

  “Whoa. Slow down,” Nate said, visualizing panic widening her big gray eyes and pulling at her delicate, heart-shaped face. “So your cat is freaked. Why?”

  “I—I don’t know. But he’s under the bed…uh, hi, Rock. He just jumped up beside me. And he’s purring. He seems okay now.”

  “And what about you?”

  “I guess I’m still a little freaked,” Annie admitted. “The letter got me started, then I imagined that someone was following me home, and then I wake up in the middle of the night to find the cat under the bed, growling. I just needed someone to talk to is all.”

  Finally, she was starting to make sense, Nate thought, swinging his bare legs over the bed. “Does your cat usually growl?”

  “Never. Not that I’ve heard.”

  He rose and headed for the bathroom. “Give me your address and I’ll come over and check things out for you.”

  “You don’t have to do that. Just talking to you helped.”

  He could hear the lie in her words.

  “Your address, Annie.”

  Relief sighed through her voice as she gave it to him. “It’s a big, squat, two-story brown brick, unrenovated building,” she clarified, “part of the old manufacturing district.”

  “I’ll be there as fast as I can. Don’t answ
er the door to anyone but me. When I get to your place, I’ll call you on the cell phone to let you know I’m outside.”

  “All right. Thanks. I owe you.”

  “My pleasure, Annie.”

  He’d been waiting for an opportunity like this for months.

  ANNIE HAD DRESSED in jeans and a gray silk shirt, and had just pulled back her hair into an off-center ponytail that trailed over her shoulder when the phone rang a little after five. Relieved, she picked up the receiver.

  “I’m riding up your block now.”

  “I’ll meet you at the door.” She hung up and told Rock, “A friend is here. No need to hide under the bed.”

  Listening for a car, she heard an angry buzz instead. And when she opened the door, she simply gaped as Nathaniel Bishop rode up on a black-and-red Harley. He dismounted and removed his helmet to reveal dark hair tossed over his forehead. Then he came toward her, a somewhat intriguing and yet threatening figure.

  She blinked and adjusted her glasses, but the apparition in black leather didn’t disappear.

  “Are you going to stand there or let me in?” he asked.

  “In.” She stepped back to let him pass, then locked up and leaned against the door. She couldn’t stop staring. “I wasn’t expecting…” She waved her hand to indicate his surprising alter ego.

  “I guess not.” He grinned. “Up until now you’ve only seen my business persona.”

  “Clark Kent,” she agreed.

  He laughed. “Try Nate,” he replied, studying her face. “You seem to be feeling better.”

  “Actually, I’m feeling a little foolish.”

  She glanced over to her bed in the middle of the two-story space. Rock stared at the newcomer for a moment before disappearing back under her bed.

  “Ro-o-ck,” she called, to no avail. And when the cat didn’t reappear, she told Nate, “He’s shy of strangers. Who knows what happened to him out on the street?”

  “That’s understandable. Well, since I’m here, it won’t hurt for me to check things out for you.”

  Nate released a big flashlight from a loop at his waist and started a tour of the place.

  Annie cringed. She took such care with Annie’s Attic, but the new business had been so all consuming that she’d done virtually nothing with her new home—a big, empty, cold-looking space softened only by her bed and a sitting area with plush couches and chairs. Her few accessories consisted of a dozen fancy pillows, souvenirs from flea markets and vacations and estate sales. In addition, she had a functional kitchen and functional bath and that was that.

  Though she couldn’t afford to renovate at this time, she could certainly add her own touch to the place, make it more interesting. Only half of the building rose the full two stories. The other half had a second floor, filled with treasures from an estate sale that were still mostly in boxes. Maybe she’d better start digging stuff out.

  She followed Nate at a distance. His flashlight beam swept every dark corner. Suddenly something scurrying along the back wall made her yelp.

  “A rat!” she squeaked, as it found a space in the outside wall and squeezed through.

  “Aha, mystery solved.” Nate grabbed a dishcloth and hurried to stuff it in the hole. “Rock was hiding under the bed because he’s afraid of a little rodent.”

  “Me, too! At least it’s gone now.”

  “You’ll have to bring an exterminator in tomorrow to get rid of any other unwanted guests and to seal up any entrances you don’t know about. And while you’re at it, you need a security system protecting this place.”

  Though she’d never felt unsafe before, Annie admitted that a security system wouldn’t be amiss. “I’ll dig through the yellow pages first thing.”

  “I had to find both for my building when I renovated it,” Nate said. “And I still use the exterminator, of course. When I get to the office, I’ll get you the contact information for both businesses.”

  “I owe you big,” she said gratefully.

  “How about a big breakfast, then? I’m starving.”

  She glanced at the kitchen area. “Cold cereal?”

  Nate gave her a look that sent shivers to her toes. “You need to stop working so hard, and take care of yourself.” He looked around. “You wouldn’t own a helmet?”

  “Plastic foam. Bike-style.”

  “It’ll have to do this time.” He sounded as if he had ideas for future times, as well. “Get a jacket or sweater while you’re at it.”

  A few minutes later, Annie was perched behind Nate on his Harley and flying to who knew where. With her arms around his middle and her thighs spread around his, she was a bit giddy and totally into the moment, and she didn’t care where they were heading.

  They landed at a small breakfast place that had opened at 5:00 a.m. Eggxactly was a narrow space with a long counter and tables that were already half-filled. Around the room, shelves held old toasters and waffle irons and egg poachers as part of the decor.

  “It’s perfect,” Annie said, feeling right at home as she slid into a booth.

  “And the food is even better.”

  He was right. Though dawn was still an hour away, she ate with appetite—stuffed French toast, filet benedict, roasted breakfast potatoes.

  Before sitting down to eat, Nate had removed the leather jacket that had been zipped to his pants. Beneath, he wore a blue silk T-shirt a shade darker than his eyes. Though he was tall, he wasn’t a big man. Not broad. But he had respectable musculature. With unexpected fascination, Annie watched his biceps flex as he lifted the fork to his mouth.

  Suddenly, she said, “You’re so unexpected.”

  “The Clark Kent thing?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t have a clue.”

  “You thought I was an uptight businessman.”

  “Not uptight,” she hedged, remembering her critical assessment of him the day before.

  “Boring, then. Don’t deny it. I am when I’m working, because that’s what most people expect. But we all lead at least two lives, don’t we?”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “Then we want to—we fantasize about it,” he insisted. “It’s human nature. We have one face for public, another for private.” Nate studied her for a moment before adding, “I wonder what your private face is like.”

  “You’re looking at it.”

  “Am I?”

  She shifted uncomfortably. “What you see is what you get. Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “Who said I was disappointed?”

  Nate locked gazes with her and wouldn’t let go. Heat curled around her middle and she suddenly went light-headed. She had a mouthful of food but no will to swallow. Just as the tension sparked between them to an unbearable degree, he looked away and took a slug of coffee.

  “Why Annie’s Attic?”

  “Fantasy. People like it.” Then she thought of her detractors. The picket line that had formed outside her door the day after her grand opening. “Well, most people.”

  “And you?”

  “I wanted to do something creative and fun from the moment I figured out that I had talent. Unfortunately, I thought a career in advertising would give me both. Instead, I ended up with hard-to-please clients who thought they knew ‘creative’ better than I did. What a headache.”

  “So that prompted you to open your own business.”

  “No. Actually, Nick did. He and Helen and I hung out together in college and shared our dreams. Then we graduated and all got great-paying jobs on the fast track to misery. One day, Nick put it to us. Quit our jobs and start our own businesses. Helen and I didn’t take him seriously until he showed us the listing for your building, along with his resignation—he’d been shooting video footage for news shows at a network-affiliated television station, but he quit, just like that.”

  “So you made a pact? The Three Musketeers?”

  She nodded. “Helen quit her job as a corporate Webmistress and I said goodbye to advertising. We vowed to support each other n
o matter what.”

  “Have you ever regretted giving up a paycheck?”

  “No,” Annie said honestly. “Even the few problems I’ve had with those who don’t approve of the store couldn’t ruin it for me.”

  The sky was lightening on the horizon when they left the restaurant. Annie couldn’t remember the last time she’d been out and about this early.

  Rather than heading back to her place, however, Nate rode straight toward the lake along the deserted streets. The city was just awakening.

  More exhilarated than she’d been in years, Annie didn’t object. Her face to the wind, she found renewed enjoyment in the concept of freedom. Her front to his back, her nerve endings a-tingle with the intimate contact, she came alive as she hadn’t truly been for what seemed like a lifetime.

  For Nate…not for Nathaniel. Nathaniel was boring, even if she wouldn’t say so to him. Nate was anything but. Nate was every girl’s fantasy. Well, this girl’s, anyway. Nate Bishop, the modern-day version of a knight in shining armor come to save a maiden in distress.

  Annie closed her eyes.

  He shot through the mist on a black charger. Threatened by a dragon—a dragon that had certain ratlike features—she reached up toward her black knight.

  Her heart thudded when he lifted her away from danger and onto his faithful steed. They rode together, her back to his front.

  One gloved hand traced a line from her throat to the valley between her breasts and down to her belly, where heat sizzled in concentric circles until she was consumed….

  Gasping at the intensity of the fantasy, Annie opened her eyes as Nate braked to a stop.

  They were in one of the few wooded areas along Chicago’s Lake Michigan shoreline, giving them a measure of privacy. She wondered if it was even legal for him to have driven up here—they were off pavement and on a gravel road in a grassy area. Before them, golden-pink light streamed across the water as the sun peeked over the horizon.

  Her heart thudding in truth, Annie reluctantly released Nate and dismounted, awed by the spectacular beauty of the moment as the sun seemed to launch itself suddenly from the lake. Her breath caught in her throat and she removed her helmet. Nate dismounted and removed his helmet as well, tossing it on the grass.