"That's true," Larry murmured, nodding sagely. "That's true. But not likely to remain so forever. Once he's had some time to heal-"
"How do you know? About Zack London, I mean? You sound as if you know him personally."
"Oh, Zack and I have worked together on various projects-Boy's Club, Parks and Rec." Larry shrugged and smiled.
Feeling frustrated and outwitted, Maddy abruptly turned her back on Larry and began stuffing puppets into their cases with uncharacteristic disregard for their well-being.
"Hey… Maddy, listen." Larry Whitlaw was a good friend, and when he placed his big hands gently on her shoulders her anger at him ebbed. Her shoulders sagged, and he massaged them sympathetically. "You know that if anybody else did this, I'd put 'em on leave of absence, don't you? Emotional basket cases we don't need around here."
She shook his hands off and laughed painfully. "So what makes me an exception?"
He waved a hand at the puppet cases. "At the risk of making you impossible to live with, I guess a lot of people around here think you're damn near irreplaceable."
She placed a hand over her heart and groaned. "Please. I don't think my ego can stand it!"
He chuckled, and gazed fondly at her for a moment. "Tell you what. I don't see any harm in your maintaining contact with Theresa, once she's established in her foster home. I've no objection to a friendly relationship, as long as it doesn't interfere with her adjustment to her new environment and isn't disruptive to her or the foster parents. Is that understood?"
"Understood," Maddy said softly, and smiled radiantly.
But as she loaded her puppets into her car, she was thinking, with an acknowledged lack of fairness, Zack London, how could you do this to me?
It was probably a good thing Maddy was still angry with Zack when she arrived at his home for her first swimming lesson. Without that spine-stiffening core of resentment, she might never have made it from her car to the front door. As it was, the finger that punched the doorbell shook noticeably. Maddy noticed it, and clenched her hand into a fist. Lord, how she wished she'd brought one of her puppets along! Bosley would have known exactly how to deal with this…
A moment later she was thinking that Bosley, in her new incarnation, at least, would have had a field day.
Zack opened the door himself. He was wearing only a pair of swimming trunks and a light blue cotton something with a hood. The blue thing-a light jacket or cover-up of some sort-was unzipped and hanging negligently off his broad shoulders. His chest, torso, and those long, smooth-muscled swimmer's legs were bare. Maddy stared resentfully at him. Why couldn't he have had a maid? His house, like all the houses in this part of town, was big, custom-built, and overlooked the golf course. She would have thought Zack London at least would have a maid.
He, in his turn, was looking her up and down, taking in her neat navy blue linen slacks and white cableknit cotton sweater. "Hi. Glad you came," he said with amusement in his voice and eyes. "Did you come to swim, or ski?"
"It gets cold in the evenings," she said defensively, clutching her oversized purse tightly. "And I don't make a habit of driving around town in a bathing suit."
He mumbled something that sounded like "Pity," and stood aside. "Come on in. You can change in the bathroom."
"Thank you," she said primly. Her teeth had developed a tendency to chatter. She clamped them together firmly and said brightly, "Nice place." She waved a hand that encompassed both Zack's manicured front lawn and the golf course beyond it. "Do you play golf?"
"Not much." His expression and voice were neutral. "Carol-my wife-played quite a bit."
"Oh." In her dismay, Maddy forgot to keep her teeth clenched. Sure enough, they made an audible clattering noise.
Zack glanced at her with interest. "Are you really that cold, or is it nerves?"
"Cold," she mumbled, hugging herself and lying with conviction. "Definitely."
"Uh-huh." Zack's expression was carefully serious. "Well, it would probably help if you came in off my front doorstep."
"Doorstep?" she looked around, surprised to find that she was still outside. "Oh…"
Zack held the door, politely waiting. Maddy stayed where she was. After a moment Zack sighed, took her arm, and pulled her across the threshold.
"Nice house," she said, looking around desperately.
The living room was enormous, immaculate, and sterile, done in neutrals and cool shades of blue and sea green. Beyond it she could see a formal dining room, raised two steps above the level of the entryway and living room. It, too, was immaculate. It seemed unused, like a display in a furniture-store window. "It seems very… big."
"Too big for one person, you're probably thinking. And you're right." Zack's jaw seemed to tighten, then relax. "I'm thinking seriously about doing something about that."
Maddy's breath caught in her throat. "Do you… live here… all alone?" It was hard to imagine someone as casual-appearing as Zack, with his jeans and polo shirts, his undisciplined hair and sunburned skin, living in a place as cold and empty as this. Maddy hated to think of Theresa living in such an environment. And surely the county-adoption caseworker would agree that this was no place for a child.
"I have a housekeeper." Zack's voice was dry. Maddy glanced at him guiltily and saw a sardonic smile on his lips. "So you don't have to worry about being alone with me. And now," he said briskly, dismissing that subject and putting his hands on her shoulders, turning her the way one would a confused and balky child, "quit stalling. Bathroom's down that hall-first door on your right. Did you bring a towel?"
She snapped her fingers. "Oops-I left it in the car. I'll just go-"
Zack's arm made a barrier across the door just in time to thwart her escape. "No, you don't. I think I can probably find you something." His eyes were amused, but sympathetic.
"I'm sorry," she muttered, feeling ridiculous. "I guess maybe I am a little nervous."
"No!" He put a hand on his chest and looked incredulous.
She stared resentfully at him for a long, tense moment, then gave an embarrassed giggle. "Okay, I'm sorry," she said. "Really. I'm being pretty silly."
"Yeah, you are." He put his hands on her shoulders and smiled disarmingly at her. "Do I look like a maniac who drowns gorgeous blonds in my hot tub?"
She focused on his dimple and shook her head. "No."
"Oh, what a relief." His smile broadened and became irresistible. "Besides, Dahlia wouldn't allow it. Maddy… look. I'm here to help you get over your fears, not make them worse. Everything we do tonight will be pleasant. Enjoyable. Even… fun." His voice was soft and deep-throated. It soothed the rough, raw edges of her fear like warm oil. "Trust me. Nothing's going to hurt you tonight, or scare you. Okay?"
"Okay." She nodded, but somewhat dubiously. She did trust him not to hurt her. So why was she still shivering?
It wasn't until she was closed into the privacy of the bathroom and facing her own reflection in the mirror that she realized it wasn't the water she was afraid of at all. It was Zack. Just… Zack.
The problem, she decided as she peeled off her sweater and folded it neatly, was that he kept giving off conflicting signals. Not that she was adept at reading such signals, granted, but she'd had enough of the wrong kind of experience to know when a man was putting the make on her. She just wasn't hearing the usual warning bells and sirens with Zack. And yet he'd already taken more physical liberties with her than she'd tolerated from any of the men she'd dated in recent memory.
What did he want from her? On the one hand, he courted her trust. And on the other… what?
Maddy pulled on her suit, the plain black one she had bought for her first lesson at the public pool, and surveyed herself critically in the mirror. Damn the suit, anyway. It had seemed so practical. She'd had no idea when she bought it that it would be so… revealing.