“You know MacGyver?” he asked, his eyebrows high.
“My mother still has the entire series on DVD. Bookcase on the right, top shelf.”
He looked that way, then whistled and said, “Boxed set,” as if impressed.
“Mom doesn’t kid around about MacGyver. How doyouknow him? He’s before your time, too.”
“Grandma Sage,” he said. “VHS.”
Camellia laughed all the way from her belly, and in a second realized he was laughing, too. When they stopped, he was still smiling. He said, “You might be good for me, Camellia Rio.”
A forbidden memory floated free of its prison, rising in tandem with the chill up her spine.You’re good for me, Camellia. You’re the only good thing in my life. I’d kill you before I’d let you go. You know that, right?
The sound of Wolf’s fork against his plate as he set it down sent the ghost skittering back into the shadows. She closed her eyes like closing the door, shutting it in.
“What was that?” Wolf asked.
“What?”
“Something in your eyes just then. Was it because I said you’re good for me?”
She shrugged. “I don’t really want to be…good for anyone. I had a fiancé. He…needed me a little too much.”
“How so?” Wolf was frowning, curious, maybe concerned.
“At first, just…hyper-attentive,” she said. Because why not let him know right up front where she stood? If they were going to work together, she needed to set her boundaries firmly. “Later, he became controlling, suspicious, jealous. When I broke it off, he stalked me for three years.”
“That’s awful. I’m sorry, Camellia. Is it ongoing? Are you okay?”
She shrugged. “He stopped six months ago. I don’t know why. I don’t dare try to check up on him, because if he catches on that I did, it might reactivate the whole thing. It just…flashed through my mind when you said I was good for you. I know you didn’t mean it that way.”
“I could’ve phrased it better,” he said. “What I meant was I enjoy your company. How’s that?”
“Better.” She nodded at his pie. “Finish up before it gets soggy.”
Then she started eating her own to stop herself from talking. She probably shouldn’t be sharing so much personal stuff. He was a client. A potential client. But he was so damn attractive to her that it seemed a good idea to be clear about where she stood on male-female relationships and why.
When they finished the last sips of coffee, he rose and said, “I should go. You’ve been kind, you and your mother both. I’m grateful.”
Camellia stood up, too, tried to think of something to say and failed.
Wolf took his jacket from the hook near the door and draped it over his forearm. Head low, he opened the door.
She blurted, “I enjoy your company, too.”
He lifted his chin and turned to face her again. He seemed pleased, but the sadness remained in his eyes. So she went on. “On a personal level, I mean. I really do. I wouldn’t want you to think otherwise. It’s just that…I’m not gonna take that risk again, you know? So, if we go forward with the case, we’d both need to be clear on that. First sign of anything…you know…and I’m gonna have to call it quits. I’d refund the fee, though, of course.”
He studied her face for a long moment, frowning. It felt as if he was trying to see more than she was saying. “Look, Camellia, I don’t even know my real name. It’s like when Ma died, she took my whole identity with her. I’m not looking for…you know.”
They locked eyes. A thunderbolt struck her speechless.
He put on his coat. “But I’ve decided that Iwouldlike you to go ahead and help me find my roots.”
“What?” She thought they were addressing the slow simmer she felt between them, but maybe she was the only one feeling it. His sudden change of topic gave her mental whiplash.
“You do?”
He nodded.
