Rand's Redemption. Karen Van Der Zee

      “The beach, the woods, the park. I like to walk. It gives me a chance to hear myself think. I rather like my own company at times.”

      There was a silence.

      She glanced over at him. “Does that sound conceited? That’s not how I mean it.”

      He raised his brows fractionally. “How do you mean it then?”

      She frowned. “I think…” What she wanted to say was that she was comfortable with herself, with the person she was. She was not afraid of her own feelings or her own thoughts. She had no idea how she was going to say that without sounding over the top.

      “You think what?” he urged.

      She took a deep breath. Well, she had to finish what she had started. “I’m comfortable with myself,” she said. “I’m not afraid of my own thoughts and feelings.” She didn’t care what he thought.

      “And what does that mean?”

      She searched for words. It was a strange conversation to be having with him. “I’m quite aware I’m a flawed human being, but I try to live…honestly, to be aware of other people’s feelings and needs, and not to be too judgmental.” That sounded pretty good, but she had to admit that not being judgmental wasn’t easy where it concerned Mr. Caldwell.

      “Judgmental?”

      “It’s easy to criticize other people, but you can’t tell what’s in someone’s heart, and you don’t always know the reality of someone else’s life.”

      “How very noble,” he said, and his voice was coldly mocking. “Is this little speech for my benefit? A less-than-subtle hint perchance?”

      His voice chilled her to the bone. “What is that supposed to mean?”

      “Don’t play the innocent, will you?” He turned and strode back into the house.

      Her astonishment overwhelmed even her anger. She had no idea what he had been hinting at. She stood motionless at the veranda railing, staring out into the darkness. Then anger took the upper hand. This was outrageous! This was going too far!

      She stormed in after him. “Rand!” she called, and he stopped and turned, hands on his hips. Brows arched sardonically.

      “Yes?”

      She moved in front of him, heart racing, legs trembling. “I’d like to know what’s going on here!” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You don’t like me. First I assumed it was something general—your not liking women, or just simply having a rotten disposition, but now I know it’s more than that. I’m not given to paranoia, but I’m beginning to think that this is a rather personal thing and I’d like to know what you’ve got against me. You don’t even know me!”

      “Oh, I know you,” he said frigidly. “I know your type.”

      “My type?” It was getting more preposterous by the minute.

      “Beautiful, selfish, and deceitful.”

      She felt her mouth begin to drop open and she clamped her jaws shut just in time. The man was a lunatic! She took a steadying breath.

      “If you feel this way, why in the world did you invite me to stay at your house?”

      His mouth curved with faint contempt. “To keep you from going back to Nairobi. Nick told me that Melanie arrived unexpectedly, to surprise him.”

      Melanie was in Nairobi? How was that possible? Nick had tried to persuade her to come along for a while, a week, even just a few days, but she’d not wanted to be away from the kids, not so far. And now she was here anyway? It had to be a mistake.

      “Melanie?” she asked, incredulous.

      “Yes, Melanie,” he bit out. “Nick’s wife. You do know he’s married?”

      “Of course I know he’s married! What—”

      “Well then, perhaps you’ll agree it would be more discreet to stay out of their way?” His icy gaze bored into hers. “Surely you’re not totally without scruples?”