Unfinished Business by Nora Roberts Page B

filled out a bit. His naked chest looked rock-firm, his shoulders leanly muscled. Because her nerves were beginning to jump, she concentrated on his face.
    Why was it he looked all the more attractive with a night’s stubble and a surly set to his mouth?
    â€œI used your shower. I hope you don’t mind.” When he just grunted, she worked up a smile. If she felt this awkward now, she wondered, how would she have felt if he’d joined her in the bed? “I appreciate the night’s sanctuary, Brady. Really. Why don’t I pay you back by making some coffee?”
    â€œHow fast can you make it?”
    â€œFaster than room service.” She slipped past him to the adjoining kitchen. “I learned to keep a travel pot with me in hotels.” She found a glass pot and a plastic cone filter. “But I think this is a little out of my league.”
    â€œPut some water in the kettle. I’ll walk you through it.”
    Grateful for the occupation, she turned on the tap. “I’m sorry about all this,” she said. “I know I dumped on you lastnight, and you were very…” She turned, and her words trailed off. He was standing now, tugging jeans over his hips. Her mouth went bone-dry.
    â€œStupid,” he finished for her. Metal rasped on metal as he pulled up the zipper. “Insane.”
    â€œUnderstanding,” she managed. He started toward her. Her feet knocked up against the unfinished counter as she took a hasty step in retreat.
    â€œDon’t mention it,” he said. “And I do mean don’t mention it. I’ve had an entire sleepless night to regret it.”
    She lifted a hand to his cheek, then hastily dropped it when she saw his eyes darken. “You should have told me to go home. It was childish of me not to. I’m sure my mother was worried.”
    â€œI called her after you went up.”
    She looked down at the floor. “You’re much kinder than I am.”
    He didn’t want her gratitude, he thought. Or her embarrassment. Annoyed, he passed her a paper filter. “You put this in the cone and put the cone on the glass pot. Six scoops of coffee in the filter, then pour the hot water through. Got it?”
    â€œYes.” There was no need for him to be so snotty when she was trying to thank him.
    â€œTerrific. I’ll be back in a minute.”
    She set her hands on her hips as he padded upstairs. An exasperating man, she thought. Sweet and compassionate one minute, surly and rude the next. With a half laugh, she turned back to scowl at the teakettle. And wasn’t that just the combination that had always fascinated her? At least she was no longer a naive girl certain he would turn into a prince.
    Determined to finish what she had started, she measured out the coffee. She loved the rich morning aroma of it, andwished she hadn’t had to stop drinking it. Caffeine, she thought with a wistful sigh. It no longer seemed to agree with her.
    She was pouring the boiling water over the coffee when Brady came back. His hair was damp, she noted. And there was the lingering scent of soap around him. Because her mind was set to be friendly, she smiled at him.
    â€œThat had to be the quickest shower on record.”
    â€œI learned to be quick when I was an intern.” He took a long, deep sniff of the coffee. It was his bad luck that he could also smell his shampoo on her hair. “I’m going to feed Kong,” he said abruptly, and left her alone again.
    When he returned, she was smiling at the coffee, which had nearly dripped through. “I remember one of these in your kitchen on Main Street.”
    â€œMy mother always made drip coffee. The best.”
    â€œBrady, I haven’t told you how sorry I am. I know how close you were.”
    â€œShe never gave up on me. Probably should have more than once, but she never did.” His eyes met Vanessa’s. “I guess mothers