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woman walks through a house. The slower she walks, the more she likes it. That one, you raced through as if there was a pack of hounds at your heels.”

    “ Is that why you dawdled along behind me all the time?”

    He nodded. “It doesn’t work that way for men. They’re much harder to predict. It’s the funniest thing—that’s why I prefer to work with women.”

    “ I’ll just bet you do,” Kaye murmured.

    “ For example, I’m not planning to show you any more ranch-style houses, either. Am I right?”

    She nodded, and shivered at the thought. “They’re so spread out,” she said. “I’d walk myself to death keeping the place clean.”

    “ Surely you’ll have a housekeeper.”

    “ I hadn’t thought of that.” She considered it, and shook her head. “I don’t think I really want one,” she said. “I like the idea of playing house under my own roof, with no one to get irate if I want to scrub the kitchen floor in the middle of dinner preparation.”

    He was looking at her in astonishment. “You actually like the idea of scrubbing floors?”

    “ I don’t mind,” Kaye said, feeling a little ridiculous, but determined to stand up for herself. “And if it was my very own floor, I should think there would be a lot more satisfaction in it.”

    “ Haven’t you ever had a home of your own?”

    “ Not really, just apartments.” She bit her lip and said stiffly, “My father and I moved around a lot.”

    Brendan looked intrigued, but he didn’t comment. He leaned back in his chair. “Would tomorrow be all right for another session?”

    “ I don’t think I should plan on taking too many afternoons off.”

    “ Then we’ll go after you leave work.”

    “ You don’t mind tying up your own evening?” She was thinking about the battered teddy bear that had been in the front seat of his car, and the child it must belong to.

    “ It’s part of the job.” He saw her out, and as she walked across the parking lot to her car, she turned and saw him, in the pool of light that was the real estate agent’s office, sitting on the corner of the desk again and talking to the gorgeous brunette.

    Of course he wanted her to find her house soon, she thought. The quicker she found it, the sooner he’d get his money, and the less time he’d have invested in the process.

    It’s been a long time, she thought, since I’ve gone shopping for anything, especially without having to worry too much about the price tag. Something tells me this could be a lot of fun—more fun than I’ve had in years...

     

     

CHAPTER THREE

    KAYE glanced through the mail while she waited for water to boil so she could make herself a cup of instant coffee. There wasn’t much of interest, just a magazine, a letter from a college friend, and a sweepstakes entry form which she dropped into the wastebasket. She had a vague feeling that she’d already been lucky enough for one week, and there was no sense in wasting a stamp to mail a certain loser.

    She stirred the coffee crystals into the hot water and carried her cup and her letter to the far corner of the big single room, where Omar the Persian cat watched sleepily from his comfortable nest on a blue cushion at one end of the couch. As soon as she sat down, the cat rose, stretched, yawned, and gracefully swarmed across the couch and into her lap. She stroked the soft white fur and said, “How would you like to move to a big house, Omar? A house where there’s room for all the cushions you want, and you don’t have to give up your couch every night so I can unfold it and make it into a bed?”

    Omar wrapped his front paws around her neck, then put his nose into her right ear and began to purr throatily. She jerked away from the rumbling, tickling noise and said, “That’s two in favor. I think you can call it a unanimous vote in this household.”

    But what house? she thought. Was it going to be so difficult to find just the right house for herself and