Karen Rose - Her Mr. Right?

Feeling defenseless on the ground with him looking down on her, she put one hand on the grass to lever herself to her feet.

He offered her his hand. “Let me help.”

She would have snatched her hand away, but she probably would have tumbled back down to the ground in a very unladylike position.

His hand was large, his fingers enveloping and she felt like a tongue-tied naive teenager with a crush on a football player.

As soon as she was balanced on her feet, she pulled out of his grasp and saw his hand was now covered with dirt. “I’m so sorry.” She caught a towel from her gardening basket and handed it to him.

He just wiped his hands together. “I’m fine. But I can see I’m interrupting you. Can you take a break?”

Actually she was finished but she didn’t know if she wanted to tell him that. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?”

“I didn’t like the way our meeting ended. You were upset and I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I wasn’t upset,” she protested.

“Okay, not upset, angry. Everyone seems to be angry—if not downright hostile. We’re not going to get anywhere like that. I know I’m asking pointed questions, but I have to get to the bottom of the rumors and complaints. If there is insurance fraud, don’t you want to know? If you cooperate, wouldn’t that be better for both of us?”

“I am cooperating.”

The corners of his mouth definitely twitched up in a semblance of a smile. “If that was cooperation, I’d like to see resistance.”

She felt her face getting hot, and not from the midday sun. “I feel as if you’re trying to entrap me or the staff. As if you want to catch us in some little discrepancy—”

“I want the truth.”

There was something about Neil Kane besides his sex appeal that got to her. Maybe it was the resolve in his eyes that told her he was sincere.

“I stopped by today to see if we could discuss everything more calmly over lunch.”

“You’re asking everyone you question to lunch?”

This time, a dark ruddiness crept into his cheeks. “No, but I don’t get the feeling you’re hiding anything. You seem to want to be careful so no one gets hurt. I understand that.”

“In other words, you think I’m a pushover.”

He laughed and it was such a masculine sound, her tummy seemed to tip over.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” he explained. “Although you try, you really don’t watch every word you say. I get the feeling you’re a straight shooter. So am I. I thought we could make some progress together.”

Having lunch with the enemy wasn’t a terrific idea. On the other hand, Neil Kane wasn’t going to go away until he was satisfied with the answers he got. No one would have to know she was talking to him and maybe, just maybe, she could do some convincing of her own.

“I found a place I like,” he coaxed. “You can probably go like that if you want.”

At first she thought he was laughing at her, but then she realized he wasn’t. He was serious. Where was he going to take her—to a hot-dog stand?

“I’d like to change and wash the dirt off my face.” She crouched down, gathered her gloves with the small gardening tools and plopped them into her basket.

Neil picked up a hoe and a rake lying beside the garden.

“You don’t have to—” she began.

“Someone could trip over them.” Now he was smiling at her.

She couldn’t help but smile back. “You can just leave them on the porch.”

“I can wait there.”

“That’s silly. No, come on in. My dad’s watching TV. He might ignore you, but at least you can find a comfortable chair.” She started up the stairs and he kept pace with her. As he propped the tools against the wall, she said, “Mr. Kane, about my dad—”

“Do you mind if we drop the formality? My name’s Neil. We might feel less confrontational if we can at least call each other by our first names.”

“Isobel’s fine.”

Their gazes caught…met…held. Until finally he asked, “What about your dad?”

Whenever she looked into Neil’s eyes, she lost every coherent thought in her head. She made the effort to concentrate. “If he seems to ignore you or is grumpy, it’s just him, not you. Please don’t feel offended. He had surgery on his shoulder two weeks ago and he’s not happy about it. He’s limited as to what he can and can’t do, and that frustrates him.”

“It would frustrate anyone.”

Neil seemed to understand and that was a relief.

As they crossed the foyer and went to the living room, her father didn’t say a word, just kept his eyes glued to the TV where a biography of Dwight D. Eisenhower played.

“Dad, I want you to meet—”

“Not now. Shhhh.”

She felt her cheeks flush and was about to apologize to Neil when he said, “My father told me he visited the Eisenhower farm when he was a boy.”

Isobel’s father swung his gaze to Neil. “No kidding. How’d that happen?”

“My grandparents apparently knew a friend of the family.”

“You’re from Pennsylvania?”

“No. I was born and raised in Massachusetts, but we took a couple of vacations there when I was a kid. I was interested in history so the Gettysburg Battlefield fascinated me. I enjoyed it almost as much as Hershey Park.”

To Isobel’s surprise, her father laughed, and then his gaze went to her, expecting introductions.

“Dad, this is Neil Kane. He’s…he’s…”

“An investigator for the state Attorney General’s Office,” Neil filled in.

“ So you’re the one who’s been snooping around the hospital.”

Instead of taking offense, Neil smiled. “Investigators always get a bad rap when they try to find the answers, don’t they?”

Her father just grinned and pointed to the sofa, which sat at a right angle to his recliner. “Sit down and tell me about those trips to Pennsylvania. My parents moved up and down the East Coast. My dad had trouble finding work until they settled here.”

Isobel was absolutely amazed her father had started talking to Neil like this. But then maybe he sensed another history buff.

Who would have thought?

As she ran up the stairs, she mentally pictured everything in her closet, trying to decide what to wear. Then she chastised herself. What she wore simply didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to try to impress a man who would be here today and gone tomorrow. She wasn’t going to try to impress a man who thought she or other personnel at the hospital had committed some kind of crime.

No matter how easygoing Neil seemed today, or how gentlemanly, she had to be on her guard. Her future as well as the hospital’s depended on it.

Chapter Two

“I never expected you to bring me here. Only the locals know about this place.” Isobel’s eyes were the deep, dark brown of rich espresso. Her smile was even a bit friendly.

As Neil sat with Isobel in his car parked on the gravel lot of The Crab Shack, his gut tightened. How long had it been since a woman gave him an adrenaline rush? How long had it been since he’d actually felt happy to be somewhere with someone?

Happiness had been a commodity he couldn’t quite get a grip on ever since he’d lost his brother. Guilt had been a factor in that, a guilt he’d never been without.

But today, just looking at Isobel in her bright yellow T-shirt, her pin-striped yellow-and-blue slacks, he felt…good, damn good. And he shouldn’t. He’d only stopped by her house and brought her here to get information. He normally didn’t fraternize with witnesses in an investigation. He always pro ceeded by the book.

But stonewalled by most of the staff…

“Not everyone in Walnut River considers me an enemy,” he joked, returning her smile. “I’m staying at the Walnut River Inn. Greta Sanford told me about this place. She said to ignore how it looked on the outside and ignore some of the customers inside and just concentrate on the food.”