Henry laughed. “Regan throwing things? Like in a temper tantrum? She’d never do that. She never loses her cool, and she would never ever throw things. That’s just not her style. She is angry, though, but I guess you could tell that.”
“Yes, I could.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “She won’t take it out on you.”
That thought hadn’t entered his mind. Alec considered himself a good judge of character, and it had taken him about five minutes to figure out that Regan didn’t have a mean bone in her body. She could never deliberately hurt anyone. The way that her staff responded to her indicated she was kind and good-hearted. The problem, as he saw it, was that she was too sweet for her own good.
She ought to find Aiden and give him hell for poking his nose into her affairs. Yeah, that’s what she ought to do, but he doubted she would. She was too nice to ever blow up.
No, not his problem, he reminded himself. It wasn’t his job to teach her how to stand up for herself. He did think it was odd, however, that growing up with three older brothers hadn’t toughened her up.
He knocked on her office door but didn’t wait for her to give him permission to enter. The sofa was calling his name. He remembered how comfortable it was, and while she worked, he was going to take a nap. Alec was a light sleeper. He wasn’t concerned she would leave, because he’d be wide awake before she reached the door.
Regan was on the phone. Her face was flushed, and she was obviously agitated. She was pacing back and forth behind her desk. He heard her say, “Have him call me the second he returns,” before she hung up the phone.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, knowing full well it wasn’t.
“Yes,” she said. “Everything’s fine.”
He leaned to the side to look behind her.
“What are you looking for?” she asked.
“I just wanted to see if your pants were on fire. You know,” he drawled. “ ‘Liar, liar…’ ”
She smiled. “Everything isn’t okay,” she admitted. “I’d like to get my brother alone and…”
He was removing his jacket, but his eyes were locked on hers. “And what?”
She didn’t answer.
“How do you get rid of it?” he asked then.
She pulled her chair out from behind her desk and sat down. “Get rid of what?”
“The tension, the frustration,” he said. “Or do you keep it all bottled up inside? If that’s the case, you’d better find a way to get rid of it, or you’re going to die young. Stress will kill you.”
“I take a yoga class.”
He laughed. “Yeah, well, you need a little more than yoga with those brothers of yours. Do they all interfere, or is it just the oldest, Aiden?”
She didn’t pretend not to know what he was talking about. “All of them,” she said. “And it’s getting tiresome.”
“I would think so.”
“What do you suggest I do?”
He draped his jacket over the back of a chair and started working on his tie.
“About your brothers?”
“No, about stress… tension.”
He suddenly realized he was breaking his own rule of not getting involved, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Stop being so nice.”
She looked surprised and also pleased. “You think I’m nice?”
“Being nice isn’t always a good thing.”
She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “What about you? You’re in a high-stress job. How do you get rid of all the tension?”
“I shoot bad guys, and I get to break a lot of heads… and noses and arms.”
She laughed and shook her head. “You do not. I’ve got news for you, Detective. You’re not such a tough man. You’re actually kind of sweet.”
Now it was his turn to laugh. “Sweet? That’s a new one. I’m definitely not sweet. I’ve been told I can be a real mean mother…”
“Yes?”
“Trust me on this. I can be mean, real mean.”
She didn’t believe him, but she wasn’t going to argue. She realized he had to be tough because of his job, but she also sensed that there was an ingrained goodness and decency about him.
Alec stretched his shoulders and rolled his head, trying to work out the knot in the back of his neck. Regan was distracted by his broad shoulders. The man was way too sexy for his own good.
Get control of your thoughts, girl, she told herself. She cleared her throat, straightened in her chair, and folded her hands on the desk. “You don’t need to stay, Detective.”
“Alec,” he reminded her.
“Okay,” she said. “You don’t need to stay, Alec. I’ll be fine here. I’m sure you have better things to do than babysit me.”
“You’re still not catching on, are you? You’re not getting rid of me. The only place I’m going is to your sofa.” He added, “And just so you understand, I’m with you until you’re bedded down for the night.”
“Are you going to tuck me in?”
She was actually being a bit sarcastic, but he didn’t take it that way. “That depends on you,” he said.
His eyes sparkled with devilment. She swallowed. “Oh?”
She inwardly groaned. Was that the best she could come up with? Oh? Sophie would know what to say, and she’d say it in a teasing, come-get-me voice.
Alec leaned against the side of her desk. “How long have you been living here?”
“A while.” She didn’t want to explain why. She picked up a stack of what looked like messages and began to go through them.
“So how come?”
Ignoring him hadn’t worked. He was still half sitting on the side of her desk while he waited for her to explain. She watched him pull his tie loose and drop it on the corner of her desk. She wouldn’t be surprised if he kicked off his shoes next.
“Could you get any more comfortable?”
“Yes, I could. So how come?”
He definitely wasn’t going to give up. “I had an apartment…”
“Yes?”
She sighed. “But I moved back home when my mother became ill.”
He frowned. “Was she alone?”
“No. She had nurses and a full staff to see to her every need, and my stepfather, Emerson, was still living there, but she wanted me close to her… until it was over.”
“And when was it over?”
“Eleven months ago.”
“And your stepfather?”
She stiffened. “What about him?”
Alec knew he’d poked a sore spot. Her body language intrigued him. She looked as tightly wound as a clock spring. “I just wondered what happened to him.”
“Nothing happened to him. He’s still living in the house.”
“With the staff?”
“Yes,” she said.
“That must be lonely for him.”
She scoffed. “He isn’t lonely.”
“How come?” he prodded.
“He lives there with his new wife.”
“Ah.” Now he understood the reason for her prickly, uptight attitude.
He said the obvious. “He didn’t mourn long, did he?”
He’d hit a nerve. Regan decided not to mince words. “No, he didn’t mourn long. In fact, he didn’t mourn at all. He was never faithful to my mother for the very short time they were married, and he was already sleeping with Cindy before my mother became ill.”
“And he married Cindy.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
She was as stiff as a surfboard again. “Three days after the funeral.”
Man, that was cold, he thought. “I guess it bothers you to talk about this, doesn’t it.”
“It’s a little late for that question, isn’t it? How come you’re so curious about my family?”
“I’m not curious about your family.”
“Oh? Then why all the questions-”
He cut her off. “I’m curious about you.”
It wasn’t what he said so much as how he said it, with a warm glint in his eyes she couldn’t quite decipher. Was he flirting with her? No, of course he wasn’t. Why would he be interested in her when he could have any woman he ever wanted? And probably had. She was such a straitlaced… nerd. Yes, a nerd, she thought, especially when compared to her friends. Regan believed that everything about her was ordinary, boringly ordinary.