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said next to his elbow, "I can't paint over it. The patches are bumpy. And that will affect wallpaper, too. Do you have any suggestions?"
    "What about paneling?"
    She wrinkled her nose. "I don't want to make the room dark."
    "It doesn't have to be wood paneling. There are prints and patterns now as interesting as those on wallpaper."
    "But I already picked out a paper I liked ."
    "There is a pre-paper you can put on the wall to prepare it. That might work. Or think about paneling to cover where the wainscoting was attached. You could use a chair rail at the seam. Then use the paper you picked out above that."
    She brought her hand to her chin and tapped her finger against her cheek as she thought about it. "Now, I'm not sure what would look best. Maybe paper two walls, panel the bottom of two... I'd still better patch the holes so I can do whatever I want when I decide."
    He took a peek into her kitchen and didn't see any signs of food. "Did you have supper yet?"
    "I didn't take the time. I wanted to get this finished tonight."
    "Want some help? We could order a pizza."
    Her gaze was wary. "You don't have to help me for me to do a good job on your account."
    He pushed his hands into his pockets and met her incorrect conclusion with a realization of his own. "Having pizza with you and patch plastering has nothing to do with the account."
    "What does it have to do with?"
    Her office persona had returned — voice even, eyes blank. He had no idea what was running through her mind. "Wanting to spend some time with you."
    Her eyes widened and he saw the vulnerability she tried hard to hide. Crossing to her, his intentions weren't clear in his own mind. "I gave you the wrong impression Saturday night."
    "About?" she asked, her tone neutral, the vulnerability again hidden.
    "I'm not involved with anyone."
    "You're not?"
    "I'm not."
    She tilted her head and asked suspiciously, "Then why did you let me think you were?"
    Kit wasn't the type of woman to let the tough questions go unasked. He knew that about her already. "It seemed easier...safer."
    A quick flash of understanding crossed her face. "You've been burned, too."
    Telling her about Susan would serve no useful purpose. Besides, he wasn't ready to discuss Deedee and what she meant to his life. "Yes. But even more than that, my life's complicated right now. The problems with the store. Whether I'm going to sell or not. I didn't know if I wanted to add another complication."
    "I see."
    He touched her face then, his thumb brushing over her soft skin, then lingering on her cheekbone. She didn't back away; she didn't give him any indication that she didn't want him to touch her. "But I like you. And if we're going to be working together, we might be able to do a better job if we're...friendly."
    Kit tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. Grey's hand on her face was jumbling her thoughts, making her a bit dizzy, creating pictures in her mind. His presence in her apartment was making her feel underdressed, out of breath, and not at all herself. He wasn't even saying he wanted to date her, which was perfectly fine, she told herself, because she wasn't ready to date again.
    Dredging up her voice, she asked, "So you want to be friends?"
    He smiled a crooked smile that sent her pulse on a speed chase. "Yes. Any objections?"
    A small voice inside her whispered, It's a good place to start. A louder voice overrode the first by warning, Be careful. Stepping away from his touch, she stooped and picked up the bag of plaster mix. With a smile, she said cheerfully, "I can always use a friend. Especially one who's willing to work."
    He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that affected her almost as much as his touch. Taking the bag from her, a smile hovering on his lips, he said, "While I mix this, you call for the pizza."
    Still trying to absorb Grey's physical presence in her living room and the effect it had on her, she crossed to the kitchen and asked, "Any preference?"
    The heat that flashed