Maryanne protested. She had some trouble maintaining the conviction in her voice. In truth, she was pleased to learn that Nolan’s apartment was next door, and her heart did a little jig all its own. Nolan turned away from the window. His mouth was set in a thin straight line, as if he was going against his better judgment in arranging this. “That night at the radio station,” he mumbled softly. “I knew it then.” “Knew what?” Slowly, he shook his head, apparently lost in his musings. “I took one look at you and deep down inside I heard a small voice cry out, ‘Here comes trouble.’” Despite his fierce expression, Maryanne laughed. “Like a fool I ignored it, although Lord only knows how I could have.” “You’re not blaming me for all this, are you?” Maryanne asked, placing her hands on her hips, prepared to do battle. “In case you’ve forgotten, you’re the one who invited yourself to dinner that night.
