“Do you want me to help you down?”
“Whatever for? I’m perfectly comfortable.”
Her soft Southern accent seemed out of place against her biting sarcasm, and he laughed, now even more intrigued.
“Uh-huh. Okay. I guess I’ll head on back before theskies open up.” He turned and started walking down the footpath, kicking up gravel so she was sure to hear him go.
“Wait!”
“Yes?”
“Maybe you could give me a hand, since you’re here and all.”
“You’re sure? I’d hate to destroy any illusions you have about modern-day chivalry.”
Silence. Then, “Sorry. I get snippy when I’m embarrassed. It’s nothing personal.”
“Lady, I never take women hanging upside down and flashing their underwear at me personally.”
This time, her laugh was genuine, and she shook so much that her legs slipped a bit on the tree.
He braced to catch her, but she managed to steady herself.
“Um, maybe you could give me that hand now.”
He grinned, moving to stand under her. “As you wish.” She fumbled with the material stuck to her face, pushing it aside to reveal exotic eyes. They reflected the lights from the path, and despite a tinge of fear, her slate-gray irises sparkled with a zest and openness he found completely refreshing.
For a second, she just stared at him, her brow furrowed, then her eyes went wide. “It’s you.”
“Me?” His stomach roiled. Did she know him?
“Stuart’s mysterious Mr. Michael.”
He exhaled in relief. This woman didn’t know TonyMoretti, just his alter ego’s reputation, thanks to Stuart’s efforts to sing Michael’s praises. His secret was still safe.
“Why don’t we do the socializing once your feet are on the ground?”
She nodded—more or less, anyway. “What do you want me to do?”
That was a good question. Normally he’d climb up the tree, but with the drizzle, the wood would be slick, and he wasn’t at all sure he could make it up there, much less get her down. “Can you get turned around? Reach up and catch the branch?”
“I tried. I can’t seem to do it. In high school, my only failing grade was in gym.”
“Then we’ve only got one choice. Do you trust me?”
She caught his eye, her lips pressed tight together. “Yes,” she said, after the briefest hesitation.
He felt a surprising surge of pleasure sweep through him. Foolish. He didn’t know the woman, had no reason to care about what she thought of him. But still, there it was.
His career had trained him to compartmentalize his emotions. To just get the job done. The accident honed that skill. He could analyze his reaction to the woman later. Right now he needed to focus on the problem at hand.
“I want you just to let go.”
“Excuse me?” Her voice rose to near hysterical proportions. “Are you nuts?”
“If you can’t pull yourself up, it’s the only way down.” He kept his voice level, reasonable. “I can’t climb up there in the rain, and there’s no time to run get a ladder. Your knees have got to be getting tired, and the tree’s only going to get more slick.”
She mumbled something he couldn’t make out.
