Free Rose Quartz by Sandra Cox

eyes narrowed and she asked in a low, silky voice, “And how many lovers do you think I’ve got, sugar?”
    His lips thinned. “If that torrid embrace I saw the other night was anything to go by, I’d say at least one.”
    “The bathroom is down the hall to the right. Help yourself to the towels.” She clenched and unclenched her fists, valiantly fighting the urge to heave her paint rags at him. “And don’t forget to call Officer Gordon,” she called after his retreating figure.
    He held up a hand in acknowledgement and kept walking.
    Muttering, she paced the room. “I should have painted your whole face green and your hands as well.” A thought brought her up short. She unclenched her jaw and grinned. Could the tough guy be jealous? “Well, well, Mr. Hank McHenry, maybe green would be an appropriate color for you after all.”
    She cleaned her paintbrush then headed downstairs for some fresh coffee, her good humor restored. Just as she entered the kitchen the buzzer sounded. She spun around and headed for the foyer. Pressing the button, she placed her mouth close to the call box. “Yes, Bobby.”
    “Mr. Privette’s here to see you, Ms. Bella.”
    Shit . “Now really isn’t a good time, Jeffrey.”
    “Bella, I need to see you, it’s important.”
    Even through the call box his voice sounded insistent. “Great, just what I need, a reenactment of the War Between the States,” she muttered.
    “What did you say?” Jeffrey’s metallic voice echoed through the speaker.
    “I said if you must, come on up.”
    There was a pause as if he was digesting her response then his voice reverberated through the foyer, “I’m on my way.”
    She needed fortification and headed for the kitchen for coffee and a bagel. Puss–Puss sat on a little table she’d purchased specifically for him, staring at his empty food dish as if convinced if he looked at it long enough food would appear.
    “I wonder if I should put you in the bedroom.” She gave him an absent stroke then shook her head. “If there’s bloodletting, it probably won’t come from you.”
    She walked to the counter and opened the bagels. The wonderful yeasty smell of pastries rose from the bag. “This is ridiculous. I’ve been in social situations that involve two macho males before and felt perfectly at ease. Of course, one of them has never been a wild card Yankee though.” Opening her mouth, she chomped down on a cinnamon and raisin bagel just as the doorbell rang.
    She poured a fresh cup of coffee into a hot pink china cup and carried it with her. The minute she opened the door Jeffrey rushed toward her, arms extended. “Darling, I just heard what happened. Are you all right?”
    Shoving the mug at him, Bella replied, “I’m perfectly all right, thank you.”
    As if on cue, Hank walked in. He wore clean faded jeans and a short-sleeved plaid shirt. Polished, handsome and younger, looking like a GQ ad, Jeffrey paled in comparison. Hank was all male, no pretense, no apology.
    Bella felt like she’d just swallowed sunshine as her heart surged with pleasure. It was the most amazing thing. Just looking at him made her burst with pride. Inherent honesty was stamped on his chiseled features, his level gaze direct.
    “And is this the man responsible for saving your life?”
    The two men eyed each other. Bella’s gaze slid from one man to the other. She’d seen friendlier looks on rival gang members. They were sizing each other up like two predatory animals. It wouldn’t surprise her if they started circling each other.
    Ignoring the tension between them, she made the introductions. “Jeffrey Privette,” she motioned with her hand toward Hank, “Hank McHenry.”
    Holding the delicate hot pink cup gingerly with one hand, he stuck out the other. “I’m in your debt.”
    Hank clasped it.
    Bella watched, half fearing a macho male-gripping contest but Hank shook the lawyer’s hand then dropped it.
    “Come in the kitchen and I’ll get you a cup of