When Jarek opened the door to the brusk knocking at nine o'clock that night, Leigh flung herself into the room with the force of the wind howling around his home. "You should have answered your telephone. It would have saved me a trip. You can't hide from me or what you have done. The flowers painted on the van look real cute next to your brother's black BMW."
The wind caught the towel around Jarek's hips and chilled the water beading his body. He closed the door behind her.
"I was probably taking a shower when you called."
"Don't give me excuses."
He swept a hand in front of the damp towel he was wearing knotted around his hips and indicated his damp hair.
"All right. Maybe that's a possibility," Leigh admitted. "Your hair is wet and you smell like soap."
