Past Tense by Freda Vasilopoulos Page B

address and you’d asked me to keep it confidential. I’m sorry, Miss Smith. Terribly sorry.”
    Too late . Her heartbeat took up the rhythm. Too late . “I don’t think it matters any more.”
    “Did you have a reason for leaving Montréal other than a broken engagement, Miss Smith?”
    “Yes, Mr. Collins. But I don’t think anyone will be bothering you again.” She closed her eyes, wishing she felt as secure about her own future. “I’m sorry this happened. Since I seem to be responsible, please send me a bill for the damages.”
    “I’m sorry to bring you distressing news, Miss Smith. If there is a problem, perhaps you should go to the police. They can help.”
    Could they? Sam wondered after she hung up. She had nothing concrete to tell them. Or show them, not even the brochure.
    “What is it?” Tony asked tensely. He’d been going crazy watching the play of emotions over her face, the fear that turned the rain-silver eyes dark. “What’s happened?”
    “They know where I am.” Her voice was flat, toneless. “Even if they were just guessing before, they know now. My solicitor’s office was broken into, my file taken. It can’t be a coincidence. After they grabbed the wrong woman’s handbag, they must have gotten desperate.”
    A muscle clenched in Tony’s jaw. “That does it. You’re staying at my place for the night. After that, we’ll see.”
    Sam raked her fingers through her loose hair, pushing her glasses up onto her forehead as if their weight was suddenly too much for her face to bear. “Tony, you’ll be taking a risk, too. Don’t worry, I’ll lock the doors.”
    “You lock them every time you go out, don’t you?” he reminded her. “That didn’t stop someone from getting in and taking the brochure.”
    It was like a nightmare, a thick suffocating nightmare that stole her freedom and threatened her sanity. “Damn it, I never thought it would end up like this. I should have handled it differently from the first moment in Montréal. I can’t let you get involved.”
    “I’m already involved.” And perhaps more than she suspected.
    Placing his finger under her chin, Tony tipped her face up. “Look at me, Samantha. See, my eyes are open. I know what I’m getting into. I’m willing to take the chance.” For you , he added under his breath. “If you want, I’ll sign an affidavit swearing you’re not responsible for anything that happens to me.”
    A reluctant amusement twitched her lips and he knew he’d won his point. “You need me, Sam. You need somebody, and I don’t think we have enough to go to the police at this moment.”
    She realized that he was right. He could help her. Independence had become such a habit that she’d almost forgotten what it was to have someone care what happened to her.
    She looked at Tony. His eyes were soft, his smile tender and expectant. No, he hadn’t made the offer because he thought she couldn’t take care of herself. He’d made it because he was honestly concerned about her safety.
    “Yes, I’ll come,” she said, and discovered the words were neither degrading nor painful.
    His smile broadened. “I’m glad, Sam.” He walked over to her, his steps sure and unhurried. Laying his palm on her cheek, he stroked her lips with his thumb.
    The warm touch of his fingers was hypnotic, sending a stream of renewed strength through her body. She stared up at him, her mind still in turmoil, but in that moment her heart gave birth to the beginnings of trust.
    Her lips parted, as an unfamiliar sensation came to life within her. With surprise she recognized it as desire, an emotion she hadn’t allowed herself to experience in so long she’d almost forgotten what it felt like.
    For an instant she was aligned to the hard planes of his body, then she was free. Tony stood with his back to her, his two hands clenching in his hair. “I’m sorry, Samantha. I shouldn’t have touched you.”
    But I wanted you to . The thought slammed through