Carnal Innocence. Julie Miller

to do her duty, she got up and remade the bed, then finished dressing.

      An hour later, the dishes were in the dishwasher, clothes were spinning in the washing machine and Caitlin was vacuuming the crumbs and dust from the carpet in the hallway. The swirling water-filter vacuum, specially designed for people with allergies like herself, roared loudly enough to drown out her imaginary duel with a dust bunny.

      “Ha! Take that!” With all the style and aplomb of a musketeer, she stabbed the vacuum’s hose beneath the telephone table and sucked up the dusty devil.

      Her plan was a simple one. Clean up. Practice her heartfelt apology on Cassie’s behalf. Then, after sending poor Sean on his way, she’d walk down to the corner to pick up some Chinese takeout and mail the rent check.

      Dragging the hose and vacuum behind her like a ball and chain, Caitlin brandished the brush attachment and attacked an alien glob of refried beans that clung to the table leg. “You’re next, fiend.”

      But before she eliminated the enemy blob from outer space, something gold and shiny caught her eye. “Ah. Hidden treasure.” Judging by the scatter pattern of discarded clothes and jewelry, one of Cassie’s escapades with Tim had taken place out in the hallway. Still envying the idea of casting aside decorum and seizing the moment, Caitlin bent over at the waist and plucked an earring from the wine-red carpet.

      That was when she noticed the man standing in her foyer.

      The beast.

      Come to life.

      Caitlin blinked, not trusting her eyes.

      He was still there.

      Framed in the open doorway, which was barely wide enough to contain his broad shoulders, he stood and stared at her. His green gaze swept her from tush to tennies. Still bent over, staring with a bit of shock herself, she noted he wore a tweed blazer that matched the tawny color of his close-cropped hair. Beneath it he sported a plain white T-shirt that didn’t look very plain at all stretched across that well-built chest. For an odd moment out of time, Caitlin wondered if it was the cut of his coat or the hug of his jeans that made him appear so big. So broad. So solid. So strong.

      She licked her lips as her mouth went dry.

      So hot.

      “Are you real?” she whispered, unheard over the vacuum noise.

      Her gaze fell on the plastic daisy key ring that dangled from his right hand. Cassie’s key ring. The one she hid in the flower box outside her window and invited guests to use. Oh God. He was real. Very real.

      Since the mysterious Tim was with Cassie in D.C., and Caitlin herself had no love life to speak of, this “guest” had to be Sean.

      Great. Just great.

      Even upside down and looking through her legs, Caitlin could tell this man was no mercy date.

      Cassie had dumped him?

      3

      NICE BUTT.

      Nice legs.

      I don’t get the whole upside-down thing, but…

      Wow. Very nice legs.

      He’d caught the woman wielding a stainless vacuum attachment as if she were dueling with a sword. Then she’d picked up something and started talking to it. Now she was studying him as if he was a rare scientific discovery.

      Keeping his distance so as not to trigger any more of her apparent eccentricities, Sean cleared his throat and blinked, breaking the stunned stare that had captured both him and the woman with the endless gams.

      She stood up in a flurry and faced him. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. He squinted politely, expecting her to repeat herself. She rolled her eyes heaven-ward, pursed her lips and muttered something unintelligible. She was all flustered in a way that was part preteen and part prude—and disarmingly refreshing in an adult woman.

      Sean resisted the urge to smile. She reached down and flipped off the switch on the canister vacuum, filling the apartment with a startling silence. If she was a housekeeper for hire, then he would seriously consider spending some time at his town house, dirtying it up so she’d have a reason to come clean it.

      But she smiled and extended a hand in greeting that told him she owned the place. His ogle-the-maid fantasy gave way to polite respect at the confidence she exuded.

      “Are you Cassie?”

      “I’m her roommate, Caitlin McCormick. You must be Sean.”

      Stepping forward, he folded his hand around hers, testing the finely boned structure of it. Despite her height and athletic build, Caitlin McCormick was still very much a woman. Certainly not a preteen and hopefully not a prude. It’d be a waste.

      He nodded, once, in greeting and in silent approval. “Sean Maddox. Cassie said to let myself in. Did I interrupt something?”

      “What? Oh.” Her silvery gaze darted to the vacuum beside her. She glared at the inanimate object as if it were responsible for the creative housecleaning show he’d just witnessed. She snatched her hand away and brushed her palms against the hips of her cutoff denim shorts. “Just trying to make a dull job a little more interesting.”

      “I see.” He didn’t, but it was the polite thing to say.

      Enough pleasantries. The clock was ticking.

      “Is Cass—?”

      “Cassie’s not—”

      They’d spoken at the same time.

      He grinned, trying to ease her nervous laughter.

      But she quickly recovered and started again. “Sorry. I’ve been out of town, ever since school got out last week.”

      “You’re a student?”

      “Teacher. Junior-high English.”

      Lucky kids. Why hadn’t any of his teachers had a body like that? The cutoffs she wore revealed a mile of leg that even his nonadolescent libido responded to.

      The delicate points of her shoulders rose and fell in a heavy sigh that wiped away his smile and replaced his body’s interest with suspicion.

      “Here.” She handed him a piece of flowered stationery from the hall table. “Cassie left this for you. She got called out of town unexpectedly.”

      Sean scanned the note. His suspicion curdled in his gut and flowed out into his veins in a frustrated temper. “Damn.”

      Over the phone, Cassie had sounded like the perfect woman for his plans. No strings attached. Ready for fun. But he’d expected her to keep her word about this weekend. His mistake.

      He’d gotten caught at Dillon’s office in Quantico and hadn’t driven into Alexandria, Virginia, until nearly an hour past the time he’d arranged to pick her up. He thought his invitation had made everything clear. He was offering her a free vacation at a high-class resort in exchange for whatever she wanted to offer. As long as the other guests believed they were a couple.

      He hadn’t offered his heart and she hadn’t asked for it. But did Cassie’s easy-come, easy-go attitude mean she’d move on to the next man if one date didn’t show up on time?

      “I know it’s a surprise.” The voice of Cassie’s roommate cut through his brewing temper. “She said she did try to call you.”

      Damn. Now what was he supposed to do? Diego Marquez might walk if Sean couldn’t come up with some connection between Justice Rossini’s trip to Pleasure Cove and his subsequent retirement. Sean would have a hard time dealing with Alicia Reyes’s silent tears if that happened. And the San Isidrans wanted answers soon about their ambassador’s murder, or they’d send up their state police looking for answers themselves. He had to infiltrate Pleasure Cove Island. Tomorrow. “Damn.”

      “You said that already.