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"But, I believe you called me Cat. And please, don't fear me. I won't touch you unless you ask."Shaia sat up and pulled her robe around her belting it firmly. She picked up the dishes off the floor to give herself something to do and a reason to get up and took them over to the sink. Then she turned and looked at the heavenly man. "You expect me to believe that you're the stray that came in here? Geesh, what do you take me for some kind of idiot."He grinned, his teeth startling white and sharp looking. "You'll believe what you wish to believe, m'lady. I can only tell you what I can and hope for your understanding."She listened to the sound of his voice, that husky deep tone that reminded her of the purr of Cat when she petted him. The cadence of his words was strange, an unusual accent making him even more sensually attractive. She stared at him, feeling herself getting lost in those large amber eyes.Rowan moved towards here, stopping inches from touching her. His hand raised, his. Renee took more pictures as the players appeared during the pre-game.The Braves were playing the San Francisco Giants who were leading the Western Division of the National League. The Braves had fallen on hard times over the past few years and weren't doing so well.As they sat and watched the game Renee's mood slowly changed. She'd been very happy and carefree while they were at the mall and for most of the game. Lauren noticed she seemed quieter than normal as if she were thinking about something.She asked questions, but all she received back were short responses. Even when a foul ball landed near them Renee failed to get excited. Lauren shrugged it off thinking that Renee was just tired or on her period. Lauren almost felt alone during the ride home. Renee stared out at the scenery despite the darkness as if she were looking for something.When they arrived home Renee thanked Lauren for such a great day then went up to bed. Lauren thought about asking her what was going on but.
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“I can’t do this. Could you just give me a synopsis? Didn’t I ask for coffee?”“You know how coffee keeps you awake if you drink it this late in the afternoon. Now drink your tea, dear,” Margaret said.“I thought you weren’t having any.”“I wouldn’t insult William by not sharing what he brought for us. That would be terrible.”“The story?” Doc motioned at the book.“The book was published about a year after he disappeared, according to your account, August of 1937. The publishers wouldn’t give much information. They said the manuscript was sent to them from overseas. They had a contract for Ben Wills’ works and had no reason to believe that it was not his. It came with a cover letter designating a college in Indiana as future recipient of all his royalties, which were apparently not much.”“I don’t understand,” Doc said. “Wilton never had any connections in Indiana. He was strictly Ivy League.”“How can you be so sure of that? Very little is known about his life in the U.S. Everything is.

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