"Oh, no, ma'am, you're better in the flesh!" He blushed furiously. "Well, I didn't mean flesh--" he stammered.
"I don't think she took any offense, Dusty," Rex drawled. "Well, thanks again for coming out. Oh, Alexi, Dusty wants your autograph."
"Mine?"
He lifted his hands innocently. "He already has mine."
She gave Dusty a brilliant smile--with only a hint of malice toward Rex.
"Dusty, if you don't mind waiting a day or two, I'll get my agent to send down some pictures and I'll autograph one to you."
"Would you? Wow. Oh, wow. Could you write something... kind of personal on it? The guys would sure be impressed!"
"With pleasure," she promised sweetly.
"Wow. Oh, wow."
Dusty kept repeating those words as he climbed into the cab of his truck. Alexi cheerfully waved until the truck disappeared into the night. She felt Rex staring at her again, and she turned to him, a cool question in her eyes.
"Well," he said smoothly, "you've certainly wired up that poor boy's libido."
"Have I? Shall I take the pizza?"
"No, my dear little heartbreaker. I can handle it."
He started back toward the house. Alexi followed him-To her surprise, she discovered herself suddenly enjoying the night. She felt revived and ready for battle.
But there was to be no battle--not that night.
Rex went through the hall to the kitchen and put pizza box on the table. "There's a bolt on the wood to the parlor. If you just slide it, you can be sure that one will come in by way of the window you broke. It was probably just some tramp who thought the house was unoccupied, but I'd bolt that door anyway. You can get the window fixed in the morning. You should have done it today."
"You're leaving?"
He nodded and walked to where she stood by the door, pausing just short of touching her. He placed a hand against the doorframe and leaned toward her, a wry grin set in the full, sensual contours of his mouth.
"You're playing a bit of havoc with my libido, too." He pushed away from the wall. "If you should need me, the number is in the book by the phone. Good night."
For some reason, she couldn't respond. She felt as if he had touched her...as if some intimacy had passed between them.
Nothing had happened at all.
By the time she could move, he was gone. She heard the front door quietly closing.
She hurried to it, biting her lower lip as she prepared to lock the door for the night. She was still so uneasy. Rex's being there had given her a certain courage. She knew that someone had been in the house. Had he really left? Was there, perhaps, some nook or cranny where the intruder could be hiding?
She gasped. There was another tapping at the door. Her fingers froze; she couldn't bring herself to answer it.
"Alexi?"
It was Rex. She threw the door open and prayed that he wouldn't hear the pounding of her heart.
Rex," she murmured. She lowered her face quickly, trying to hide her relief, trying not to show the sheer joy she felt at seeing him again. "Urn, did you forget something?”
"Yes." out.
He leaned against the doorframe, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He studied her for the longest time, and then he sighed.
"You're making me absolutely insane, you know."
"I beg your pardon," she murmured.
He shook his head ruefully, then straightened. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her into the hallway to allow himself room to enter. Wide-eyed, Alexi stared up at him.
"I'm staying!" he seemed to growl.
"You're what?" she whispered.
"I'll stay."
"You--you don't need to."
He shook his head impatiently. "I'll curl up in the parlor. Since you haven't gotten the guest rooms prepared yet," he added dryly.
"Rex...you don't have to."
"Yes, I have to." He started for the parlor.
"You should at least have some pizza!"
"No. No, thanks. I should lie down and go to sleep as quickly as possible."
"Rex--"
"Alexi--dammit! I--" He cut himself off, his jaw twisting into a rigid line. He shook his head again and walked into the parlor. She heard the door slam. Hard.
Alexi retreated to the kitchen. She leaned against the door and breathed deeply. He was going to sleep in her house. She shouldn't make him do it. She shouldn't allow him to do it.
She trembled. She couldn't help it. She was very, very glad that he was just a few feet away.
Chapter 4
Even though she knew Rex was in the house--or perhaps because she knew Rex was in the house--Alexi spent a miserable night.
The kitchen floor was still a horrible bed; she swore to herself that she would get going on the house. When she first dozed off she nearly screamed herself awake, dreaming of a giant brown widow. She hadn't even known that "widows" came in "brown"--but she didn't want to meet another one.
Having woken herself up, she ate some of the pizza. Rex, bleary-eyed and rumpled, stumbled in, and at last they shared some of the pizza. When he returned to the parlor, she determined to settle down to sleep again. More dreams and nightmares plagued her. Disconcerting, disconnected nightmares in which men and women in antebellum dress swirled through the ballroom, laughing, chatting, talking. Beautiful people in silks and satins and velvets--but the dancers were transparent and the ballroom retained its dust aids and webbed decay. The only man with substance in her dreams was Rex Morrow--darkly handsome and somewhat diabolical, but totally compelling as he grinned wickedly and pointed in silence to the portraits of Pierre and Eugenia on the wall. She kept trying to reach him through the translucent dancers. She didn't know why, only that she needed to, and the more time that passed, the more desperate she became. Then, at the end, a giant brown spider with John's face pounced down between them and Alexi gasped and sprang up--and came awake, swearing softly as she realized a warm sun was spilling brilliantly through the windows.
She put coffee on and went in search of Rex, only to find the sofa empty, with a note where his body should have lain.
Gone home to bathe, shave and work. Checked on you--you were sleeping like a little lamb. Well, a sexy little lamb. Libido, you know. It's light and all seems well. Fix the window today, dammit! If you need anything, give me a ring. I'll be here.
So he was gone. Funny...she had been looking forward to seeing him. To sharing coffee. To laughing at her fears by the morning's light. She smiled, remembering how they had shared cold pizza. Neither of them had really been awake. She could barely remember anything they had said. She'd liked his cheeks looking a little scruffy; she'd liked all that dark hair of his in a mess over his forehead.
Well, Rex probably wouldn't be the same by daylight, either. He'd be hostile, annoyed, superior, doing that eccentric artist bit all over again. She swore that the next time she saw him she'd be in control. Competent, able--fearless.
Oh, yeah! But she had to get started.
Definitely. She had to do something here, she warned herself. When her dreams began to include shades of The ply, she was falling into the realm of serious trouble.
By morning's light she was able to roam around the lower level of the house. The place appeared even shabbier.
"Steam cleaners will make a world of difference," she promised herself out loud.
Still hesitant of the creepy-crawly possibilities, she kept her suitcase in the kitchen. When the coffee had perked, she poured herself a cup and sipped it while she opened her suitcase. It tasted good. Delicious. But not even the dose of caffeine really helped her mood. Her extended-wear contact lenses weren't "extending" very well--her vision was all blurry, and she swore softly again, wishing she could wear them with comfort and ease. She peered at her watch. It was only eight. She'd take a long shower, then remove her contacts, clean them and put them back in.