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“Why?”

“You’re really pretty.” Because he found it both relaxing and entertaining to look at her, he hooked his thumbs in his front pockets and did just that. “You might think that’s a shallow reason, but I like to think it’s simply basic. If people didn’t like looking at attractive things, we wouldn’t have any art.”

“How long did it take you to think of that one?”

His grin was fast and appreciative. “Not long at all. I’m pretty quick. Have you had dinner?”

“No, but I have plans. Why else are you here?”

“Let’s do this part first. You haven’t had dinner tomorrow night yet. Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Because you’re annoyed with me? Or because you’re not interested?”

“You’re pretty annoying.”

Those lazy-river eyes flirted. “Not once you get to know me. Ask anybody.”

No, she had a feeling he wouldn’t stay annoying. He’d be entertaining and interesting. And trouble. Plus, however attractive he was, he was anything but her type. “I’ve got enough on my plate without dating a man who has terrible taste in furniture and questionable taste in pets.”

She glanced toward the patio as she said it, then couldn’t stop the laugh as she saw Moe’s ugly face pressed hopefully against the glass.

“You don’t really hate dogs.”

“Of course I don’t hate dogs. I like dogs.” She angled her head to study the furry face. “I don’t think that is a dog.”

“They swore he was when I got him from the pound.”

Her eyes went soft. “You got him from the pound.”

Aha, a chink in the defensive wall. He stepped over so they could study Moe together. “He was a lot smaller then. I went in to do a story on the shelter, and he sort of came, well, gamboling up to me, looked at me like he was saying, Okay, I’ve been waiting for you to show. Let’s go home. I was a goner.”

“What’s does ‘Moe’ stand for? ‘Mountain’?”

“He looks like Moe. You know, Moe Howard.” When her face stayed blank, Flynn sighed. “Women, they don’t know what they’re missing when it comes to the courageous comedy and wit of The Three Stooges.”

“Yes, yes, we do know what we’re missing. We miss it on purpose.” Realizing they were standing close, she took a deliberate step back. “Was there something else?”

“I started running down these people you guys are tangled up with. Liam Pitte, Rowena O’Meara. At least those are the names they’re using.”

“Why shouldn’t those be their names?”

“Because when I used my incredible skills and talents, I found no record of anyone under those names that jibes with the new owners of Warrior’s Peak. No social security numbers, no passport numbers, no driver’s licenses, business licenses. No corporate paper trail for this Triad. At least none that connects to them.”

“They’re not American,” she began, then blew out a breath. “Okay, no passport numbers. Maybe you didn’t find it yet, or maybe they’ve used different names to buy the house.”

“Maybe. It’ll be interesting to find out, because right now it’s looking like they popped out of thin air.”

“I’d like to know more about the Daughters of Glass. The more I know about them, the better chance I have of finding the key.”

“I’ll call my grandmother, get more details of the legend. I can fill you in over dinner tomorrow.”

She considered him, then looked back toward the dog. He was willing to help, and she only had four weeks. On a personal front, she would keep it simple. Friendly, but simple. At least until she’d decided what to do about him.

“Would that be a table for two or for three?”

“Two.”


Tags: Nora Roberts Key Fantasy