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wondering if pink silk was a new look for you.”
    “There isn’t a pair of sweats in this house,” he complained. “It’s not like I could go naked.”
    He propped his crossed ankles on the edge of Emily’s bed. She tried not to stare at the sculpted chest covered in darker blond curls or let her eyes stray further down.
    “You went through my closet. That’s private. What are you still doing here?” she said.
    “You were out for a while.”
    “Brandon, I’m fine. You don’t have to stay. Your girlfriend must be crazy mad. You should call her.”
    “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
    “Well, then, who sent you all the stuff I dropped off today?”
    “Not a big deal—”
    Emily interrupted him. “Let’s go back to my original question.”
    “The doctor told me to watch you. Apparently, I’m the only person in the country who doesn’t have a date tonight,” he joked. “I have to be here.”
    She craned her neck to look at the clock radio, which he was currently blocking. “It’s eleven-thirty. I’m imposing on you.”
    “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be,” he responded. He didn’t meet her eyes. Emily resolved that when his clothes were done he was leaving, whether he knew it or not.
    She pushed herself out of bed. She was still a little woozy, but she needed to get up and do some things. She headed toward the staircase, bracing herself against the wall with one hand.
    He hurried into the hallway. His arm snaked around her waist.
    “Let’s go together.”
    Emily resisted the impulse to melt into his side. She reminded herself that she didn’t know him. He wasn’t part of her life. He’d go back to the Victoria’s Secret models or whoever else he dated, and she would still be alone.
    “I’m fine. I can do this.” She missed a step. He caught her before she fell. “Oops.”
    “That’s right. You’re just fine.” he scolded. “You’re going back to bed before you kill yourself. I’ll get whatever it is you were after.”
    She climbed back into her pink paradise a few moments later. He brought the Coke she requested and a beer for himself. He also ditched her silk bathrobe in favor of his own clean clothes. He sat down in the chair across from her bed again.
    “So, let’s talk about the woman who sent you all the stuff earlier.” Emily hoped she sounded chipper.
    He groaned. “Let’s not.”
    “It was a pretty nice valentine.”
    The beer bottle dangled from his fingertips as he leaned forward.
    “I can see that you aren’t going to let this go until we talk about it, so here are the facts. There is no girlfriend. She and I broke up a couple of weeks ago. It wasn’t working. She seems to think that if she follows me around, sends me stuff, and pesters me enough, I’ll change my mind. I won’t. I’ve told her this. She’s not listening.” He blew out a breath, and took a long swig of beer. “Happy now?”
    “She must make the big bucks. Just the candy cost a fortune.”
    “She’s a model.”
    Emily put her empty glass down on the nightstand and chewed her lower lip. She couldn’t even look at him.
    “Do you ever date anyone, well, normal ?”
    “Please explain.”
    “Non-models.”
    “Not recently.”
    This could not be the same guy that took care of her for the past several hours. Shallow, and well, shallow. Warning alarms went off in her head. Well, in the part of her head that wasn’t dazed because of his nearness, and the part that wasn’t still feeling woozy.
    Emily saw him studying her from the corner of her eye. She revised her earlier impression—Brandon might have been a lot of things, but stupid didn’t seem to be one of them. He leaned back in the chair once more, and crossed his arms.
    “Let’s talk about your love life.”
    “Oh, let’s not.” She resisted the impulse to pull the blankets over her head till he was gone.
    “Maybe I need to call your Valentine’s date, and tell him you’re unavoidably detained.”
    Considering the