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neckline of her dark blue shirt.
    Then he turned fully back to the road ahead of him. “Just what kind of work are you doing for Adam?” His meaning was unmistakable.
    “I think you’d better get this straight, Mr. Eliot.” Now she was really angry. “Adam Talmadge is my agent. I don’t work for him. He represents me. And I don’t think your picking me up at the airport entitles you to any explanations!”
    He turned and his eyes probed hers intently for a moment, his face hard and angry. Finally, he looked away from her, his jaw set firmly. “You’re right,” he said at last, staring at the road. He drove silently for several minutes until he turned left off the highway, continuing along a densely wooded road, the heavy truck whishing past the sun-filtering trees, the closeness of his body intensified by the shadows of the woods around them.
    At last, when he spoke, his tone was grim. “You’re right,” he repeated. “I was way out of line and you have my apology.” Apparently, that was all he was going to say. He compressed his lips, and the muscle in his jaw was working.
    She turned away, determined that she, too, would remain silent. She was appalled by the nerve of the man, and his apology was hardly enough to mollify her. She fixed her gaze out the side window and tried to focus her attention on the lovely old houses, half concealed by the trees, as they drove past.
    In a few minutes, the road opened up onto the beachfront and from there on, ran along parallel to the shore. On the ocean side, tall sand dunes dropped away to the beach far below, still empty so early in the season. The waves rolled in over the fringes of seaweed and broken shells that lined the water’s edge and, despite her preoccupation with Zach, Allie found herself responding to the beauty of the seashore and the ocean.
    At last they reached a large two-story house, built high on a promontory reaching out over the beach. In the late afternoon sun, the cedar shingles, weathered silver and gray, were glowing in the beautiful light. Zach turned the truck in at the driveway and pulled to a stop behind a dark gray Cherokee that was parked there.
    “This is it,” he said shortly. He left the motor running while he opened the door and swung his long legs out. Allie was about to get out when she realized that he was coming around the front of the truck in order to hold the door for her. After his incredible rudeness only a few minutes earlier, she was not about to accept such old-fashioned courtesy. Before he could reach her, she had the door opened and had climbed down from the truck.
    She moved past him quickly and went right to the house, but she was brought up short when she got there. The door was locked. Of course! She almost stamped her foot in frustration, remaining impatiently where she was, waiting for Zach, but not deigning to look back at him. She could hear her things being lifted from the truck and then he was there next to her, setting her boxes down on the flagstones. He took a key from his pocket, fitted it into the lock and opened the door, pushing it inward to the entryway of the house. Then he handed the key to her. “Mr. Talmadge said to have the car ready for you, too,” he added, gesturing toward the Cherokee, “so I gassed it up this morning and checked it out. She’s running just fine. The key’s in the ignition.” Quickly, while she stepped across the threshold and stood inside the entryway, he put all her boxes inside. “We don’t lock things up much around here,” he said, “but I know how you city people are. If you feel uncomfortable, being alone and all, you might want to lock the place up at night.”
    “I’m sure I’ll be all right.” Involuntarily, her gaze was drawn to Zach’s deep blue eyes as he stood close to her, and she could feel a challenge in the air, but whether it came from him or from herself, she couldn’t tell. He held her eyes for a moment with his, and then, abruptly, without