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worth.
Apparently the ruthless maneuver got the message across to Erikson in the blue sedan, because he
burned rubber getting out of the parking lot and down the street.
"Damn him," Lang said icily when he'd parked the car. "Maybe I should just beat the hell out of him
and put him in the hospital for a few weeks. That might get the idea across."
Kirry was unnerved. She looked at Lang warily. "No," she said. "You mustn't do that. He'd have you
put in jail."
"He'd have a hard time keeping me there," he returned with a smile. "I have connections."
She twisted her small clutch bag in her hands. "I thought I was doing the right thing, telling you about
him..."
"You did," he replied. "The days of men like Erikson are over. It's just going to take a few lawsuits to
convince them of it."
"Stalkers kill people," she said, voicing her worst fear.
"Erikson won't kill you," he replied. "And after I've worked out with you for a few weeks, he'll regret
it if he comes within striking range."
She smiled. "Think so? What am I going to do, fall on him?"
"You're pretty good at that," he said with an instructor's pride in his student.
"Thanks."
"I'll walk you up, just in case."
He got out of the car, locked it and came around to take her soft hand in his as they went into the
building and stood waiting for the elevator.
Kirry should have pulled her hand away, but she couldn't manage. It brought back memories of their
first real date. He'd held her hand then, too, and she could still feel the thrill of it.
"It was your first date, and you were so nervous that you were trembling when I took you home that
night," he recalled, glancing down at her surprised face. "Am I reading your mind again?" he asked,
lifting their clasped hands. "You aren't the only one with memories. They aren't all bad ones, are
they?"
She didn't answer him. The elevator door opened and they stepped into the deserted conveyance. Lang
pushed the button for her floor.
"We could have walked up, it's just the second floor," she reminded him.
"Stay out of stairwells," he replied seriously.
"Oh.Yes, I see."
"That goes for work as well as home," he added.
The elevator door opened and he walked her down to the end of the deserted corridor, where her
apartment was. He noticed that she had her key in her hand when they got there. No tumbling for it in
a purse or pocket. He smiled. "Kirry?" he asked as she unlocked the door.
She hesitated, with her back to him.
"Do you want the conventional end to the evening?" he asked quietly.
Her hand clenched on the doorknob as she remembered how it felt to kiss him. "It wouldn't be wise."
"Probably not." He shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned his shoulder against the wall next to
the door. His dark eyes slid over her profile. "What ever happened to Chad?" he asked.
Her eyes shot to his. "Don't you know? He was your best friend."
"Not after he broke us up," he replied tightly. "Or didn't anyone ever tell you that I knocked two of his
teeth out?"
"No," she said. She huddled closer into her jacket, chilled by the look on Lang's face. "It was a little
late, though, wasn't it?"
"Made me feel better," he said laconically.
His broad chest rose and fell under the soft knit shirt he was wearing. There was a dark shadow under
it. He was hairy under his shirt. Kirry had delighted in burying her hands and her mouth in that soft
thicket.
The sadness she felt was reflected in the eyes she lifted to his broad face. "You never really knew
anything about me," she said suddenly, "except that you liked to kiss me." She smiled gently. "Maybe
that's why you wouldn't listen when I told you that Chad had framed me."
He didn't answer her. His eyes fell to her mouth and lingered there until she moved restlessly and her
hand turned on the doorknob.
"The first time I kissed you, you gasped under my mouth," he recalled quietly. "It surprised me that
you didn't know what a deep kiss felt like."
She felt uncomfortable. Her green eyes glittered at him angrily. "There's no need to rub it in."
"If you hadn't been a virgin, our lives would have been a lot different," he continued. "I wanted you so
badly that I couldn't think straight, but you were the original old-fashioned girl. No sex before
marriage."
"I'm still the original old-fashioned woman," she told him proudly. "My body is my business. I can do
whatever I want to with it, and that includes being celibate if I feel like it."
"Nights must get real cold in winter," he chided.
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