He stopped in front of the wall, looked at it for several very long minutes in silence, then looked at her in astonishment.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Doodling.”
He backed up and sat down hard on her couch. “Sorry?”
She sat down next to him. “I like to make storyboards,” she said. “It puts things I can’t wrap my mind around in perspective.”
“Does it now,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t like where this is going.”
“Take a nap, then. I’ll make you lunch. You’ll like it all much better after lunch.” She started to get up, then noticed the look he was sending her. “It’s hard to ruin a sandwich,” she said pointedly.
“But possible.”
He was laughing at her silently, damn him. She glared at him. “What did you eat last?”
He put his hand over his stomach. “Must I say?”
“I think you’d feel better about my sandwich if you did.”
He took a deep breath. “Haggis, but it was not fresh and there were things in it I didn’t want to identify.”
“And you thought ham and cheese wasn’t going to be a big step up,” she said archly as she went into the kitchen.
She made him lunch, then carried it back in with a glass of juice. He was, unexpectedly, sound asleep, tipped over on her couch. She left him there, set his sandwich down on the coffee table, then considered her wall. It didn’t take her very long to realize that her drawings were much less interesting than theman sprawled on her couch. She sat down in one of the comfy chairs nearby and watched him for a bit.
She supposed his hair was disreputably long for a businessman, but she could see why he kept it that way to fit in with the other half of his life. She wouldn’t have guessed there was anything unusual about him based on anything else past his being unsettlingly handsome.
Or she thought that until she watched him wake up, freeze, and figure out exactly where he was before he moved.
He opened his eyes and looked at her. She held up her hands slowly.
“Friend, not foe.”
“I’ll pass judgment after your sandwich,” he said, his voice rough from what was probably very little sleep the night before.
She smiled to herself and watched him sit up and rub his hands over his face. He looked at the plate on the coffee table, then at her.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “Very kind.”
“It’s just lunch, Nathaniel.”
“I bet it would taste better if you’d come sit next to me.”
“But then I can’t ogle you.”
He pursed his lips as if he was trying not to smile. “Well, wouldn’t want to rob you of this fine view, so stay where you are.”
She did, then simply watched him as he ate. She supposed she had Mrs. McCreedy to thank for his lunch being tolerable, which she imagined he appreciated. She continued to watch him for little tells that he wasn’t what he seemed to be. They were subtle, but she was used to looking for subtle.
That was a man there who didn’t spend all his time in a boardroom.
He had a long drink, set his glass down with a hand that wasn’t terribly steady, then looked at her. “Thank you. Delicious.”
“I had nothing to do with the taste, but it was made with great affection.”
He smiled. “Someone’s been driving her Audi.”
