Lover, Stranger Part 9

For a moment, she considered that it might be worth it. She hadn't had a piece of bacon in ages.

Willpower, she reminded herself. She had to remain sharp both physically and mentally.

"Just a gla.s.s of orange juice for me."

He poured them both a gla.s.s of juice from a pitcher he removed from the refrigerator, then carried his food to the breakfast table. Grace followed him. He took the seat facing the atrium doors and outside, while Grace sat across from him, with a clear view of the kitchen door. She kept her purse on her lap.

For a few moments, neither of them said anything. Ethan ate ravenously, as if he hadn't had a solid meal in days. Grace tried not to stare at him, but his looks had changed so dramatically overnight, she couldn't help studying his features.

When he caught her watching him, she said, "I can't get over the changes in your appearance. It's amazing."

He shrugged.

"There was a lot of room for improvement. I looked pretty horrible last night."

"I didn't mean it like that," Grace said.

"You must be a really fast healer, that's all."

"Maybe." A shadow nickered over his features, and Grace wondered what he was thinking. If he was remembering something. She couldn't help wondering what he'd been like before all this happened. Would he have been the kind of man she would have wanted to spend time with?

Doubtful, if everything Amy had told her was true. "Were you able to get some sleep last night?" she asked him. He grimaced.

"Some. I'm still not used to this place. It... doesn't feel like home to me, but I guess that's to be expected, considering."

Grace nodded.

"It'll take time. I gather you've done some exploring this morning."

"I've been over this place from top to bottom. Nothing triggered a memory.

But at least I did find the kitchen. And a gym downstairs. I want to start working out as soon as possible. Build back my strength."

Grace's gaze dropped to his broad shoulders and chest, the muscular arms bulging beneath the short sleeves of his shirt. She remembered the strength in those arms last night when he'd grabbed her, the hardness of his chest when he'd held her against him. If he was out of shape, she could only imagine what he would be like at his peak.

"You don't want to rush it," she said.

"Amy said you'd had surgery recently. An appendectomy, I believe."

"That's what I've been told, but I don't remember the surgery, either.

Although I do have a scar on my side." Again his features momentarily darkened, as if he'd suddenly remembered something he had no intention of sharing. Grace wondered what he was keeping from her.

"Tell me more about your meeting with Pilar," she said. The cloud over his features changed, but didn't fade.

"Not much to tell. Like I said, I found her in the study taking money out of the safe."

"Did she say why she was doing that?"

Ethan pushed aside his plate as if his appet.i.te had suddenly deserted him.

He glanced up.

"She seemed to think I owed her." "Because of Amy?"

He shrugged.

"I've seen pictures of Pilar." Grace paused.

"She's a very beautiful woman."

"Yes, she certainly is."

"Did you, you know, feel anything when you saw her?" One dark brow rose at the question.

"You mean attraction?"

"I'm just trying to figure out what your relationship with her is," Grace said, almost defensively.

"Like I said earlier, apparently we're separated. She wasn't here long enough for me to find out much of anything, but she did mention Amy. She knew about the shooting."

Grace glanced at him in surprise.

"What did she say?" He shrugged.

"Let me put it this way. I don't think Amy's death came exactly as a blow."

Something that might have been sympathy crossed his features, and Grace lowered her eyes. Even though her deception was necessary, it didn't make it any easier.

"How did she find out about Amy's death?"

' "Do you remember Rosa mentioning a man named Kendall? She said that Pilar had called to find out what time I would be home, because Dr. Kendall had told her I was arriving last night. Kendall was at the hospital when I was brought in. He was in my room when I came to.

Evidently he called Pilar and told her what happened. " Grace thought about that for a moment.

"Do you know anything about this Kendall?"

"Only that he's my ex-partner."

Grace paused.

"Do you think Pilar and Dr. Kendall might have something going on?"

Ethan's.e.xpression didn't waver.

"I wondered about that. I've also wondered why Pilar waited until I got back to come here and take money from the safe. According to the police detective I spoke with last night, I was in Mexico for weeks, recovering from the surgery. She could have come over here at any time and taken that money.

Why wait until I got back?"

Grace frowned.

"What are you getting at?"

"Well, just think about it for a minute." He toyed with the juice gla.s.s.

"Why would she wait until now to take that money out of the safe?"

"Maybe she didn't need it until now."

"Exactly," Ethan said.

"Because maybe all along she thought there would be a lot more where that came from." His gaze went past Grace to focus on the backyard. She didn't turn, but she could hear the faint tinkling of the waterfall cascading into the pool, and she wondered if he was thinking about the jungle. Why did he seem to have such an aversion to it?

"After Pilar left this morning, I went through the safe myself,"

Ethan finally said.

"I found a life insurance policy for five million dollars that named her as the beneficiary. I'd be willing to bet that's a lot more than she took out of the safe."

"So what exactly are you saying, Ethan? That Pilar was behind what happened to you last night? You think she tried to have you killed?"

His gaze met Grace's.

"I don't know why that surprises you. You said yourself last night this whole thing may be a Fatal Attraction in reverse. Don't you think a woman is capable of murder?" Grace thought about the killer she wanted to bring to justice, felt the weight of her own gun in her purse.

"Yes," she said grimly.

"I know there are women who are very capable of killing. Who might even take pleasure from it. But as I also told you last night, from the things Amy told me, I don't think Pilar is the one who wants you dead. Or at least, I don't think she's the one who tried to have you killed."

Her distinction was not lost on Ethan. His gaze on her cooled.

"You were pretty clear in that regard. You think I did something to set last night's events in motion. You think someone is trying to kill me because of something I did in Mexico. Something illegal." His voice was hard, unyielding, but Grace sensed an undercurrent of anguish. A hint of desperation in his tone. She shrugged.

"Look, I'm just going by Amy's letters" -- "Amy's letters," he said, shoving back his chair and standing.

"Amy said." He strode to the atrium doors and stood staring out into the sunlit garden.

"I know she was your sister, and I'm sorry she's dead, but I don't remember her, and from what you told me last night, you didn't know her that well, either. What if everything she told you about me was a lie? What if she was setting me up somehow?" Grace turned in her chair to stare at him.

"You don't really believe that."

"Why is it so hard to believe?" His jaw hardened as he turned to face her.

"Why is it so easy for you to believe that I was involved in something that got her killed? You don't know me. What do you really know about me?"

Before Grace could answer, he walked back over to the table and stood staring down at her. The look in his eyes made her shiver.

"And it suddenly occurs to me," he said slowly, "that I don't know anything about you, either."

"Of course, you do," Grace said, ignoring the tiny spark of panic that flared inside her. She stood, trying to take away his advantage, trying to regain control of the situation as she met his gaze and they squared off.

His eyes narrowed on her.

"What do I know about you? Your name? That you're Amy's sister? I know those things because you told me." Grace moistened her lips.

"What are you driving at?"

"Maybe I've been a little too trusting. Maybe I should have asked a few more questions last night."

"Ask them now," Grace said, her voice growing cold.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know."

The silence in the kitchen was deafening. When he spoke, his voice was almost too calm.

"Who do you work for?" Grace's heart thumped against her chest. She fingered the gold clasp of her purse.

"Don't you mean where do I work? I work for a legal firm."

"You're a lawyer?"

She shook her head.

"I went to law school, but I never took the bar exam. I'm more of a...

researcher."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I spend a lot of time behind a computer and doing legwork for my superiors. There's a lot of grunt work involved in what I do."

He paused again.

"You don't have an accent," he accused.

"How long have you lived in Houston?"

She answered without hesitation.

"Not long. I transferred down here from Washington, D.C."

' "What did you do there?"

"Same thing."

"Why did you move to Houston?"

"To be near my sister." That was the first outright lie she'd told him all morning, but Grace knew there would be plenty of others.