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his face and the truth stirring his soul, he knew he had to make it up to her. All of it. The quick marriage, thehorrible three years together, the bitter divorce and probably the pain she’d suffered afterward.
    He owed her. And he hated owing anyone. But her refusal had shown him that she didn’t want a grand gesture. Hell, she didn’t want any gesture at all. Still, he needed to ease his own conscience by doing something for her. And he would. He simply wouldn’t let her know he was doing it.
    On Sunday morning, he got her phone number from Ava and tried calling her. He needed no more than a ten-minute conversation with her. He was very, very good at figuring out what people wanted or needed. That was part of what had made him so successful at negotiating. In ten minutes, he could figure out what anyone wanted or needed and then he could use that knowledge to negotiate for what he wanted. The situation with Liz was no different. He wanted to ease his conscience and could do that by simply finding a need and filling it for her. Anonymously, of course. Then his conscience would be clear. He could fall out of her life again, and they both could go back to the new lives they’d created without each other.
    His call went directly to voice mail, so he tried calling her on Monday morning. That call also went to voice mail. Not wanting to make a fool of himself by leaving a hundred unanswered messages, he waited for Friday to roll around. She might not take his calls, she might not have eaten the breakfast he’d prepared the week before, but she couldn’t avoid him in his own house if he really wanted to talk to her.
    And he did. In only a few minutes, he could ascertain what was important to her, get it and ease his conscience. If he had to follow her around while she dusted, he would.
    Realizing she might not enter if she saw he was still home, Cain stayed out of sight until he heard the bip, bip, bip of his alarm being disabled. He waited to hear the back door open and close, then he stepped into the kitchen.
    â€œLiz.”
    The woman in the yellow maid’s apron turned. “Mr. Nestor?”
    â€œOh, I’m sorry.”
    Well, if that didn’t take the cake! Not only had she refused his thank-you waffles and ignored his calls, but now she’d sent someone else to clean his house?
    He sucked in a breath to control his temper so he could apologize again to Liz’s employee, then he drove to his office. He was done with pussyfooting around. Now, she’d deal with him on his terms.
    He kept the five o’clock space on his calendar open assuming she and her employees met back at her office for some sort of debriefing at the end of the work week. At the very least, to get their weekly paychecks. Ava gave him the business address she’d gotten for Happy Maids and he jumped into his black Porsche.
    With traffic, the drive took forty minutes, not the twenty he’d planned on. By the time he arrived at the office building housing Happy Maids, he saw a line of women in yellow aprons exiting. He quickly found a parking place for his car, but even before he could shut off his engine, Liz whizzed by him in an ugly green car.
    Damn it!
    Yanking on the Porsche’s gearshift, he roared out of the parking space. He wasn’t entirely sure it was a good idea to follow Liz home. She might take that as an invasion of privacy, but right at this moment, with thememory of her refusal to eat his waffles ringing in his head, and his embarrassment when he realized she’d given the job of cleaning his house to one of her employees adding fuel to the fire, he didn’t give a damn.
    He wanted to get this off his conscience and all he needed were ten minutes. But she wouldn’t even give him ten minutes. So he’d have to take them. He wasn’t sure how he’d explain his presence at her door, but he suddenly realized he had the perfect topic of conversation. He could