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receding Scotch. „Perhaps some more hot coffee?“
    she tried, inching her way around him and off the couch until she was standing beside him. She felt as if she were trying to inch away from a panther.
    „Why not?“ he agreed cheerfully, leaning back into the sofa. A lock of russet hair fell forward over one eye and the wicked smile he gave her had a strange effect on her senses. Kali turned quickly away, scooping up the mugs of cold coffee and starting eagerly toward the kitchen.
    She realized as she poured out fresh coffee that she wasn’t all that certain now of his mood. He didn’t seem angry or even very irritated any longer but she wasn’t sure exactly what had replaced the earlier emotion. Perhaps if she could get enough coffee down him he really would settle down to business.
    There was the distinct possibility, she added silently, that things had simply gotten too far out of hand tonight. She might be forced to pour him into a taxi and send him on home. She could always start the whole business over again in the morning from a different angle.
    Yes, that might be the most practical suggestion, she decided.
    She didn’t care for her own state of mind or the way her fingers were shaking as she poured coffee. All of her senses felt ruffled and on edge and her breath was coming in quick, uneven little gulps. Damn!
    What in the world was wrong with her? She must get complete control over herself before she would be able to deal with Lang.
    Toying with the various options left open this evening and not finding any that seemed suitable, Kali picked up the white mugs and started back out into the living room.
    Only to stop short when she realized Lang wasn’t where she had left him.
    For a moment a shaft of genuine fear went through her. Then she spotted the toe of one black leather shoe sticking out over the yellow arm of the sofa. Tiptoeing forward, Kali peered down over the back of the piece of furniture. Lang Sterling had passed out peacefully on the yellow cushions.

CHAPTER THREE
    It was the commanding buzz of the intercom which woke Kali from a sound sleep the next morning. Her lashes flickered open and she lay for a moment staring at the ceiling of her white-and-yellow bedroom. There was another disturbing noise intruding along with the intercom. It was the muffled sound of her shower.
    The realization of who it must be making use of the facilities drew a rueful groan from her as she sat up and tossed back the yellow-and-white-striped down comforter. Her bare feet met the rich brown carpet and she ran a hand through the tangle of her long hair as she stood up. The intercom hissed once more.
    „Damn! Who in the world…?“
    Reaching for a quilted, Renaissance-red robe and her glasses, Kali made herself decent with a few more grumbles, ignoring her hair, and padded out into the living room.
    The only sign of her unplanned houseguest was the black evening jacket hanging on the back of a chair. She was staring at it somewhat grimly when the intercom demanded her attention.
    „I’m coming,“ she muttered at the heedless, inanimate object and punched down the communication button. „Yes?“
    „Kali?“
    She took her finger off the button as if it had burned her. Even through the mechanical box she was quite certain she recognized that voice. Her pre-coffee haze began to clear under the impetus of having to think quickly and logically.
    „This is Kali,“ she finally responded noncommittally.
    „It’s Davis, Kali. I’d like to see you this morning.“ The pleasant, masculine voice held the subtle familiarity of an old friend. Davis Wakefield had already made his decision on how to approach her, Kali thought, not without a certain admiration. „Old friends.“
    „Davis! I had no idea you were in town!“ Coolly she shifted the innuendo from „old friend“ to „old business acquaintance.“ Two could play at this game. „What can I do for you?“ She found herself chewing on her lower lip.
    There was