"You're in no shape to make that decision right now."

"But . . . " I sat up and rubbed my face. "Hardy, don't you think you're being a little high-handed about this? After getting me all worked up, you — " I stopped as an awful thought occurred to me. "This is payback, isn't it? For last night?"

"No," he said in annoyance. "I wouldn't do that. That's not what this is about. And in case you hadn't noticed, I'm as worked up as you are."

"So I'm not part of the decision? I don't get a vote?"

"Not tonight."

"Damn it, Hardy . . . " I was aching all over. "You're going to let me suffer just so you can prove some completely unnecessary point?"

His hand slid over my stomach. "Let me finish you off."

It was like being offered an extra appetizer when the entree wasn't available. "No," I said, red-faced with frustration. "I don't want a halfway job, I want a full, start-to-finish sex act. I want to be regarded as an adult woman who has the right to decide what to do with her own body."

"Honey, I think we just proved beyond the shadow of a doubt that I think of you as an adult woman. But I'm not going to take someone who's just been through a near-death experience, bring her up to my apartment and give her alcohol, and then take advantage of her while she's feeling grateful. It's not happening."

My eyes widened. "You think I would sleep with you out of gratitude?"

"I don't know. But I want to give it a day or two to wear off."

"It's worn off already , you big jerk!" I knew I wasn't being fair to him, but I couldn't help it. I was being left high and dry, just at the point when my body was about to go up in flames.

"I'm trying to be a gentleman, damn it all."

"Well, now's a fine time to start."

I couldn't stay in his apartment another minute — I was afraid I'd do something to embarrass us both. Like throw myself on him and beg. Struggling off the sofa, I retied the belt of the robe around my waist and headed for the door.

Hardy was at my heels immediately. "Where are you going?"

"Down to my apartment."

"Let me get your clothes first."

"Don't bother. People wear robes when they're coming up from the pool."

"They're not na**d underneath."

"So what? Are you afraid someone will be so overcome with lust he'll pounce on me in the hallway? I should be so lucky." I charged to the door and went out into the hallway. I was actually grateful for the surge of invigorating rage — it didn't leave much room for me to worry about the elevator.

Hardy followed, and waited beside me until the elevator doors opened. We went in together, both of us barefoot. "Haven, you know I'm right. Let's talk about this."

"If you don't want to have sex, I don't want to talk about our feelings."

He scrubbed his hand through his hair, looking confused. "Well, that's for damn sure the first time a woman's ever said that to me."

"I don't take rejection well," I muttered.

"It's not rejection, It's a postponement. And if Jack Daniel's makes you this ornery, I'm never pouring you another shot."

"It has nothing to do with the whiskey. I'm this ornery all on my own."

It seemed Hardy realized that no matter what he said, it was only going to aggravate me further. So he remained strategically silent until we reached my door. I entered the combination and stepped over the threshold.

Hardy stood looking down at me. He was disheveled and appetizing and sexy as all get out. But he wasn't apologetic.

"I'll call you tomorrow," he said.

"I won't answer."

Hardy slid a long, lazy glance over me, the folds of his own robe wrapped around me, the tight clench of my bare toes. A hint of a smile deepened one corner of his mouth. "You'll answer," he said.

I closed the door smartly. I didn't need to see his face to know there was an arrogant grin on it.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I showed up for work at eight-thirty the next morning and was immediately surrounded by Kimmie, Samantha, Phil, and Rob. They all expressed relief that I was okay, and asked about the flooding and what it had been like to be trapped in the elevator, and how I'd gotten out."I managed to call a friend of mine before my cell phone went out," I explained. "He showed up and . . . well, everything was fine after that."

"It was Mr. Cates, wasn't it?" Rob asked. "David told me."

"Our tenant Mr. Cates?" Kimmie asked, and grinned at my sheepish nod.

Vanessa came to my cubicle, looking concerned. "Haven, are you all right? Kellie Reinhart called and told me what happened last night."

"I'm just fine," I said. "Ready for work as usual." She laughed. Maybe I was the only one who heard the condescending edge to it. "You're a trouper, Haven. Good for you."

"By the way," Kimmie told me, "we got a half-dozen calls this morning, asking if you were the woman in the elevator. I think the local media wants to make a deal out of the Travis angle. So I played dumb and said as far as I knew, it wasn't you."

"Thank you," I said, conscious of the slight narrowing of Vanessa's eyes. As much as I disliked my being a Travis, she disliked my being a Travis even more.