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I almost did call you. But in the end I never actually asked for any help, did I, Cavenaugh ? You keep forgetting that. You're here because you decided all on your own to drive over to the coast, not because I yelled for help."
    "You're being unreasonable about this and with any luck by morning you'll have calmed down enough to realize it." Cavenaugh shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and regarded her with ominous warning. Kim refused to be browbeaten. She had been taking care of herself too long to allow herself to be intimidated by any man.
    "That expression may be very effective on little Scott or on one of your employees who is late for work, but that's the limit of its usefulness, I'm afraid. It doesn't have any effect on me at all."
    "I keep asking myself how Josh Valerian would handle this," Cavenaugh murmured just as Kimberly swept past the counter where the buff-colored envelope from the Los Angeles law office had been lying. "He'd know when to stop pushing," Kimberly advised. The trailing corner of the quilt she was carrying in her arms caught the envelope and nudged it over the counter edge. "He'd know when to stop because of this uncanny communication he shares with Amy Solitaire, I take it." Cavenaugh watched the envelope drop to the floor and moved forward to retrieve it. "You don't have to sound so scornful. The relationship between Amy and Josh is going to help sell a lot of books."
    "Not to men," Cavenaugh predicted as he studied the return address on the envelope. "Women are the largest segment of my readers," Kimberly informed him grandly. "And I'll tell you right now they're going to love the sense of complete emotional and mental intimacy I'm building between Josh and Amy."
    "Well, if you put enough sexual intimacy in the books, maybe you'll hang on to your male readership, too. "I use the violence to keep my male readers interested," Kim gritted. "Men are really big on violence. Maybe it's a substitute for genuine intimacy for them. What are you doing with that letter?" She glanced up from preparing the couch and frowned as she saw the envelope in his hand. "Wondering why you haven't opened it.
    Most people open letters from lawyers fast. Kimberly's mouth curved grimly. "Not in my case. I've already had two letters from that law office. I know what's inside." Cavenaugh eyed her intently. "Trouble, Kim?" he finally asked softly, tossing the envelope gently into the air and catching it absently. "Have you got other problems besides receiving roses impaled with needles?"
    "No. The folks who employ those fancy lawyers are the ones with the problem. They created it themselves, however, and I have no intention of helping them solve it."
    She stepped back from the couch, examining her work. "There, that should do for tonight. It's going to be a bit cramped but it's better than sleeping on the floor."
    "The floor is the only alternative you're offering?"
    "'m afraid so," she said cheerfully. "And since you're sleeping out here, you're in charge of the fire. I don't know how long the electricity will be off and it could get quite chilly by morning."
    "I'll take care of the fire," he agreed, glancing down at the letter in his hand. "Are you sure this isn't something I can help you with, Kim?"
    "What's inside that letter has nothing to do with you. It has nothing to do with me, either. That's what I told the lawyers after they sent the first one. You can toss that envelope into the garbage." He set it back down on the counter instead. "You can be amazingly stubborn at times."
    "Something tells me you can be just as stubborn," she retorted humorously. "But I think stubbornness in men is generally referred to as willpower."
    "In the morning we'll have to see whether my willpower is stronger than your feminine stubbornness, won't we?" he queried easily.
    "Thanks for the bed, Kim."
    "You're welcome. I'm sorry I don't have any extra toothbrushes or razors or whatever it is men need when they stay