TALL DARK AND HUNGRY Page 0,17

dishes even," Terri continued. "There was one cup that I presume Mrs Houlihan used for her tea, a teapot, some tea bags, but that was it. In the whole kitchen, that was it. Hello? Bastien? Can you hear me?"

Bastien blinked as the sudden concern and touch of impatience in Terri's tone made it through his dis¬tracted state. It took him a minute to grasp what she'd been trying to tell him as he'd ogled her body, but after a moment the key words popped to the fore of his mind. "No food. Or dishes. Right. We'll go shopping tomorrow. In the meantime..." He turned to survey the room, his gaze skating over the still wincing and shifting editor, his amused cousin, and the room at large. It stopped at the bar. "There are glasses in the bar," he announced, feeling rather tri¬umphant. "And I'll... er ..." What was it humans did when they were hungry but didn't want to cook? Oh, yes! They--

"Order in?" Vincent suggested.

"I knew that," Bastien snapped. Family could be so bloody annoying at times. Sighing, he turned back to Terri and forced a smile, completely ignoring her bewildered expression. "We'll order in tonight and go shopping tomorrow."

"Uh-huh." She nodded slowly, then tilted her head. "Have you lived here long?"

"About twenty years in this building, but over a hundred in the city," Bastien answered. Then he blinked and corrected himself: "My family has had the penthouse that long, I mean. None of us really lives here at all. I just use it when I'm in New York con¬ducting business. Other family members drop in from time to time when they're in town," he added, with a glance at his cousin.

"I see." Terri smiled slightly, then shook her head and dug into her back pocket. She pulled out a wad of American bills. "Well, I can contribute to the take¬out. What are we ordering?"

"Whatever you like, but there's no need to con¬tribute. You're my guest."

"But--"

"No buts. You're my guest," he said firmly. He turned away to bring an end to the discussion, and his gaze landed grimly on Keyes. Bastien immediately pulled out the small notepad and pen he always car¬ried around in his pocket for just such occasions and handed them over. "Write down your address and give me your keys, and I'll pick you up some clothes while Vincent and I are out collecting dinner." It wasn't a request.

"You!" He turned on his cousin as C.K. set to work. "Vincent, get that damned cape off and get ready to go out.

"And you--" His attention shifted to Terri, but one glimpse of her soft eyes and even softer-looking lips made his businesslike attitude disappear. A smile curved his lips again, and his voice was noticably gen¬der as he said, "Just sit down and relax, Terri. I'll be back soon with dinner."

Then he took the notepad, pen, and keys the edi¬tor was holding out, grabbed his now capeless cousin by the arm, and escorted him determinedly to the elevator.

"I think he likes you."

Terri glanced toward Chris Keyes as the elevator doors closed on her host and his cousin. "What?" she asked in surprise.

"Well, he certainly treats you nicer than the rest of us."

Terri ignored the comment. The man was shifting about on the couch again, looking pained. "Is there something I can do to make you more comfortable?" she asked.

"No. Well, if you wouldn't mind? Another pillow under my leg might help until the painkillers kick in. Thanks for the water, by the way."

"No problem." Terri grabbed another cushion off the couch and set it under his cast on the coffee table. "Better?"

"Not really, but it will have to do."

She bit her lip at the surly comment. Men were such babies when sick or injured. "I'm just going to go to my room to start unpacking," she announced, turning toward the hall. "Shout if you need me."

"Do you think they have a television in this place?"

Terri paused at the hall and turned slowly, her gaze moving around the room. She didn't see a television. But there was a remote control on the coffee table by C.K.'s cast-encased foot. Walking back to him, she picked it up and looked it over with mounting con¬fusion. There were more buttons on the thing than there were keys on a computer keyboard, and all of them with incomprehensible short forms and sym¬bols. Two of them said TV, but with differing symbols beneath. Terri chose the first, and glanced around with a start