A Will and a Way by Nora Roberts Page B

let out a quick grunt of appreciation. “I don’t understand why people would get all worked up about one silly hour a week.”
    He opened one eye to stare at her. “It’s the American way.”
    “What’s there to get so excited about? You have a crime, the good guys chase the bad guys and catch them before the final credits. Seems simple enough.”
    “I can’t thank you enough for clearing that up. I’ll point it out at the next production meeting.”
    “Really, Michael, it seems to me things should run fairly smoothly, especially since you’ve been on the air with this thing for years.”
    “Know anything about ego and paranoia?”
    She smiled a little. “I’ve heard of them.”
    “Well, multiply that with artistic temperament, the ratings race and an escalating budget. Don’t forget to drop in a good dose of network executives. Things haven’t run smoothly for four years. If Logan goes another four, it still won’t run smoothly. That’s show biz.”
    Pandora moved her shoulders. “It seems a foolish way to make a living.”
    “Ain’t it just,” Michael agreed, and fell sound asleep.
    She let him doze for the next twenty minutes while she watched the sly, fumbling cop tighten the ropes on the greedy business partner. Satisfied that justice had been done, Pandora rose to switch off the set and dim the lights.
    She could leave him here, she considered as she watchedMichael sleep. He looked comfortable enough at the moment. She thought about it as she walked over to brush his hair from his forehead. But he’d probably wake up with a stiff neck and a nasty disposition. Better get him upstairs into bed, she decided, and shook his shoulder.
    “Michael.”
    “Mmm?”
    “Let’s go to bed.”
    “Thought you’d never ask,” he mumbled, and reached halfheartedly for her.
    Amused, she shook him harder. “Never let your reach exceed your grasp. Come on, cousin, I’ll help you upstairs.”
    “The director’s a posturing idiot,” he grumbled as she dragged him to his feet.
    “I’m sure he is. Now, see if you can put one foot in front of the other. That’s the way. Here we go.” With an arm around his waist, she began to lead him from the room.
    “He kept screwing around with my script.”
    “Of all the nerve. Here come the steps.”
    “Said he wanted more emotional impact in the second act. Bleaches his hair,” Michael muttered as she half pulled him up the steps. “Lot he knows about emotional impact.”
    “Obviously a mental midget.” Breathlessly she steered him toward his room. He was heavier than he looked. “Here we are now, home again.” With a little strategy and a final burst of will, she shoved him onto the bed. “There now, isn’t that cozy?” Leaving him fully dressed, she spread an afghan over him.
    “Aren’t you going to take my pants off?”
    She patted his head. “Not a chance.”
    “Spoilsport.”
    “If I helped you undress this late at night, I’d probably have nightmares.”
    “You know you’re crazy about me.” The bed felt like heaven. He could’ve burrowed in it for a week.
    “You’re getting delirious, Michael. I’ll have Charles bring you some warm tea and honey in the morning.”
    “Not if you want to live.” He roused himself to open his eyes and smile at her. “Why don’t you crawl in beside me? With a little encouragement, I could show you the time of your life.”
    Pandora leaned closer, closer, until her mouth was inches from his. Their breath mixed quickly, intimately. She hovered there a moment while her hair fell forward and brushed his cheek. “In a pig’s eye,” she whispered.
    Michael shrugged, yawned and rolled over. “’Kay.”
    In the dark, Pandora stood for a moment with her hands on her hips. At least he could’ve acted insulted. Chin up, she walked out—making sure she slammed the door at her back.

Chapter Five
    T ier by painstaking tier, Pandora had completed the emerald necklace. When it was finished, she was pleased to