High in Trial - By Donna Ball Page 0,30

my faithful guard dog wandered over to check his food dish. “Because the security bar is on the front door,” he explained patiently, and of course it was. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Well, you did,” I replied grumpily and stalked to the bathroom.

I returned wearing the same jeans and tee shirt I’d worn to dinner, face washed, hair pulled back, and a little calmer. At least my heart had stopped thundering and the raw taste of terror in my mouth had been improved by the taste of toothpaste. Miles had started the coffee pot at the minibar, and the warm smell of coffee filled the room. That softened my attitude toward him somewhat, but I wasn’t ready to let him know. I sat down on the bed and pulled on my socks and running shoes.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he said.

There was no point in denying I’d been scared, even though I was embarrassed about it now. “What happened to your breakfast meeting?” I replied ungraciously without looking up.

“Rescheduled.” He added mildly, “I figured it out.”

I stood up and pulled my sweatshirt over my head. “What?”

Miles poured the coffee into two paper cups and handed me one. His eyes were easy and untroubled. “It’s just something people say, Raine,” he said. “I also love sunsets, sailing, and peach ice cream. It’s just something you say.”

I turned away, frowning, embarrassed, uncomfortable. I took a sip of coffee and it burned my tongue. “I have to walk Cisco,” I muttered.

I plopped my baseball cap on my head, checked my pockets for pick-up bags, and reached for Cisco’s leash. The minute he heard the clink of the swivel hook, Cisco bounced over to me and sat, his tail dusting the carpet with a happy swishing motion. I snapped on the leash and Miles opened the door for us.

A walk in the courtyard would have been sufficient this time of morning, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. We went down the corridor and out into the parking lot, Miles accompanying us silently, sipping his coffee. A cool mist lay over everything, and the distant horizon was barely gray. The artificial yellow of the streetlights washed out the colors of the cars and Cisco’s golden coat, covering everything in a flat, one-dimensional stain. In the distance the empty field spread out like a pool of spilled ink.

Cisco lifted his leg on a spindly bush at the edge of the field and then began an interested exploration of the scents left by all the creatures who’d passed by during the night. I lingered in the pool of light at the edge of the parking lot, not trusting my footing in the dark field. Since we were the only ones around this time of morning, I gave Cisco the full twenty feet of the leash to explore at leisure.

Miles said, “A couple of things you should know. First of all, I’m never getting married again.”

I stifled a groan. “It’s too early for this conversation, Miles.”

“Better too early than too late. You said you didn’t know me. Here’s your chance.”

I sighed, watching the plume of Cisco’s tail fade into the gloom and low fog of early morning a few feet away. I tightened my thumb on the brake of the leash just to remind him I was there. “Okay,” I said, resigned. “I’m glad you’re never getting married again. You’re terrible at it.”

I could feel the weight of his gaze. “So nice to have that confirmed by an expert.”

I sipped my coffee.

“I don’t want any more children.”

I said again, “Okay.”

“And I never would’ve let you get close to my daughter if I didn’t expect you to be in our lives for awhile. A long while. You really should’ve figured that one out for yourself.”

I didn’t know what to say. I really should have figured that out. I focused on the shape of Cisco’s body at the end of the leash as though he were a life preserver and I were adrift in a dark sea. My throat felt a little tight, and I took another sip of coffee.

He bent a penetrating gaze on me. “I’m not going to be the rebound guy, Raine. You need to know that.”

I swallowed hard. “You’re not the rebound guy.” It sounded a little muffled. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Good. I didn’t think so.”

“Good.”

“That means,” he went on, “that I’m not going to let you get away with picking petty fights, and I’m not going to give up on you just because you keep