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into town."
    He saw her drag in a deep breath. "Cal, I'm uncomfortable about this."
    "We've shared a car before."
    "Yes, but... that's not...." He was fascinated by her confusion. "I appreciate the ride—the flight—but this is my private life, and you have no—I shouldn't have agreed to this in the first place."
    He shook his head and held the door for her. She stepped quickly outside, her words lost to him in the sudden gust of wind.
    "Windy and warm," he said, catching up a few steps down the concrete walk. "I can't help wondering why you're so prickly about this. I need you back in Seattle to look after the open house, and I know you're determined to be there. I'm trying to make the business of getting here and back as smooth as I can for you. Why is it a problem for you to take some help with transportation?"
    She stopped behind a white Ford Escort, popped the trunk, and swung her computer in. He put her overnight bag in beside the computer, then watched as she stuffed her hands in the pockets of her suit jacket and tilted her head up to meet his eyes.
    "You're hovering, " she said, "looking for clues. I know my asking for time off makes you curious, but I won't let you treat me the way you treat a computer problem. You don't want a ride into town, you want a chance to find out what I'm doing here."
    "If you told me what's going on, I wouldn't have to probe."
    They'd clashed horns before, but it had always been business, and he'd never seen this hot, irritated look in her eyes. It made him wonder if her coolness was soul-deep, as he'd always believed, or a mask.
    "I'll let you off in downtown Nanaimo at the Coast Bastion Inn," she said abruptly, "but I can't fly back at six tomorrow. I'll pick you up at the Coast at six-thirty. If you need to know why the delay, you can forget the whole thing. I've been working eighteen hours a day for weeks and I deserve a few hours off the leash."
    He opened the back door and put his overnight bag in the backseat, then slid into the passenger seat. Sam reversed out of the parking space and before she flashed a glance at him, they were on the highway, headed north to Nanaimo.
    "Did you intend all along to stay over?" she asked. "You brought an overnight bag. "
    "I was a Boy Scout."
    "Be prepared?"
    "That's right."
    He saw her gaze flick to the side view mirror. "I apologize if I've been a bit...."
    "Touchy?" he suggested.
    "Yes." She glanced in the mirror again, then pulled out to pass a transport truck. "I don't like mixing personal and business life."
    "Why is that, Sam?"
    Her lips parted on an answer, then snapped shut again. Fascinating how her lips could be so soft and full, then in a flash of irritation, could turn rigid and impregnable.
    "It's just information," he said mildly.
    "Knowledge is power. What will you do with yourself all day?"
    "Perhaps I'll rent a car and explore Gabriola Island. I remember spectacular cliffs there. What are they called … those sandstone cliffs sculpted by the winter storms?"
    "Malaspina Galleries. You'd better stick to Nanaimo. Visit the museum. You can find out about the old mining tunnels that run under the harbor from Newcastle Island."
    "You'd prefer it if I stayed away from Gabriola Island?"
    "I don't care," she snapped.
    "You'd prefer that I go back to Seattle?"
    "Yes." It fascinated him that she was uneasy, almost twitching.  
    "I'll have my cell," he said as she slowed for a speed-limit sign, "in case you need me."
    She stopped at a light and turned to met his eyes with her usual cool directness, the familiar Sam he'd assumed was the real woman, until yesterday.
    "Cal, I won't need you."

    By the time she dropped Cal at the Coast Bastion Inn, Samantha's nerves were frazzled. She was half an hour early for the appointment with Dexter Ames, not enough time to drive up to the hospital and visit Dorothy. Besides, she needed to calm down.
    Why had she ever agreed to Cal's offer to fly her to Nanaimo?
    Because it seemed logical, of course,