"Jonathan, I'm sorry," Louise said, her voice so sincere it was almost heartbreaking.

"Don't be," he told her lightly. "It's not your fault, Louise." He hurried off to have a quick shower and put on some clean clothes. Max would get the car and get to know Louise a little, and then they'd be off.

He went to the bathroom and stripped off his clothes. Strange he should still be in his clothes. Was it possible he'd made love to Louise without taking them off? Or had he woken in the middle of the night and gotten dressed again and passed out? Neither situation seemed likely. But he'd never been so jetlagged in all his life. Everything felt a little fuzzy still.

The only thing that wasn't fuzzy was his fury over that goddamn Jennifer Edwards. It was just as he told Louise, if Jennifer Edwards made him look bad in the press, fine. But if she'd tanked this deal with Kingsford Motors, there would be a company and employees and factories all over England that suffered.

Jonathan had visions of what he'd do when he got to that paper and finally got ahold of that Jennifer Edwards. He washed his face and fantasized about blowing up with all his righteous anger and leaving her cowering and speechless except to sit down right then and there and print a retraction and formal apology for the evening edition of the paper. Oh, he'd show her!

But that was enough time spent thinking. It was time to do something. He dried himself off, brushed his hair, and quickly dressed in a fresh suit. Louise was waiting for him, and he wouldn't pass up the opportunity to get to spend a little more time with her. He hoped to spend a lot more time with her once he dealt with this Jennifer Edwards mess.

"Hi, sorry for the delay. Ready?" he greeted, coming out into the sitting room.

She whirled around, looking strangely nervous. "No trouble at all. Let's go. Max went downstairs for the car, said we could meet him out front."

"Great." Jonathan put his hand at the small of Louise's back to lead her out the door.

He noticed, as they went down in the elevator, that she still seemed ill at ease.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

She looked up at him and away rather quickly. Not unlike what she'd done when they first met in the bar yesterday. She told him, "It's been a strange morning, I suppose. I'm just worried for you."

"Well, that's very sweet of you, but you don't need to worry. I'll figure something out," he told her.

Louise then turned to him and regarded him curiously.

"What?"

Her lips twitched into a hint of a smile. "I dunno," she mused aloud. "There's something about you, Jonathan Hart."

The elevator doors opened to the lobby, interrupting his response. He didn't really have a response. It was a sweet thing for her to say. She was a sweet lady.

Max was waiting with the Jaguar, as promised. He wasn't great about driving on the wrong side of the road, as he called it, but he did well enough in the city. Jonathan opened the backseat door for Louise, and she climbed in. Jonathan got in after her.

"The quickest way to the Herald is to take St. James Street towards the palace and then turn, so if you head out that way, Max," Louise offered.

"Thanks, Louise, I appreciate that," Max answered, pulling out onto the street in front of the hotel.

If Jonathan weren't so preoccupied with getting to the paper, he would have been really pleased about how well Louise got along with everyone already. She had just the right temperament. Sometimes women didn't know what to do with Max. Either they ordered him around like a servant or else they got really nervous and uncomfortable with his presence. Louise didn't seem to have trouble either way. She really was pretty incredible.

"Uh, hey, listen, it's almost lunchtime. Anybody feel like stopping for steak and kidney pie before we go to the paper?" Louise suggested.

Jonathan couldn't even contemplate food. "I've got to get to the Herald, Louise. I don't have time. But thanks," he told her.

Her face fell. "Oh. Well, look, you don't need me to go to the paper. I'm starving, so why don't you just let me off over there, and I'll grab a meal on my own."

"Oh no, no, no, I can't let you eat alone," he protested. "We'll find someplace close." Jonathan leaned over to the front seat. "Max, find someplace close."

"Right," Max confirmed.

Up on the next street was a nice looking pub. Max pulled over and let them out. The last thing Jonathan wanted to do right now was have a meal and waste even more time. But he wasn't going to let Louise get away. After all, he had no way to reach her. He didn't know where she lived or where she worked or what her phone number was. He couldn't just let her get out of the car and walk out of his life forever.

Jennifer had not been so uncomfortable in recent memory. She had to talk to Brooks and figure out what on earth had happened. She made him promise not to print anything, but there it all was in black and white! And from what she'd glimpsed in that article, there was a lot more there than what Jonathan had told her last night. A hell of a lot more than she'd told Brooks. Someone else was in on this. Something had happened, and someone had talked to Brooks and gotten this printed. And they'd put her name on it!

She knew that she should be most upset about her professional integrity. That's what was on the line here. She'd worked damn hard for her reputation as a good, fair journalist, and in one fell swoop, that was all gone.

But really the thing that was really bothering her now was how upset Jonathan was. He'd opened the door saying he was going to murder someone, and she now knew he had been talking about her. Only he didn't know it. And now, not only was he furious over the article and what an awful problem this caused for the potential merger for Kingsford Motors, but he was also going to blame it all on her as soon as he learned who she really was.

Gone were the fantasies of a fun day with Jonathan and a magical night and maybe even a happily ever after. There was no way he was going to forgive her for telling him her name was Louise Tobin. He'd think it was all a ruse to get her story, and why wouldn't he? If she didn't know exactly what she'd said and to whom, she would be thinking she'd somehow written an article without realizing it.

It was killing her to be stuck with this terrible secret. She didn't trust herself to say anything to Jonathan. She wasn't going to dig herself into any bigger hole than she'd already gotten into. And when she'd waiting in the sitting room while he showered and changed, she couldn't even really say anything to Max. In another circumstance, she might have wanted to get to know this assistant or valet or secretary or whatever he was to Jonathan. He seemed nice enough, and the fact that Jonathan so obviously trusted him spoke volumes. She had gotten the sense that while Jonathan Hart was a warm, friendly person, he did not really have too many people he was really close with. It intrigued her about him, and it made her curious to learn more. She might have been able to learn some things from Max if she weren't terrified of saying the wrong thing. Thankfully, Max was occupied getting the car. He left her in the room to wait for Jonathan so he could go bring it around.

And then they were on their way. Jennifer tried to stall, tried to come up with something, but the best she could do was ask to stop for lunch. She'd tried to escape Jonathan and Max and go on her own, but of course Jonathan was too much of a gentleman. They stopped in a pub and Jennifer did manage to sneak off to freshen up and used the phone. But no luck. Brooks wasn't in at the paper. She'd have to get him at home.

She went back to the table outside overlooking the river and waited for Jonathan to return from his own freshening up.

"You see our waitress yet?" he asked, coming to sit back down across from her.

"Uh, no," Jennifer answered. She had to get out of this somehow. "You know, I don't know what it is but I suddenly don't feel hungry anymore."

"Isn't that funny? I feel the same way," Jonathan agreed.

Funny coincidence. But Jennifer wasn't going to stop to ponder it. "Really? Well, why don't we take a raincheck?"

Jonathan gave a small nod. His mind wasn't on the present any more than hers was, and she couldn't blame him. But he was still a gentleman through and through. "May I drop you somewhere?" he offered.

"Oh no, no, no," she assured him. "I've taken you way out of you way as it is." She got up from the table, Jonathan also standing when she stood. They stood there awkwardly for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say. "Okay," Jennifer said finally, touching his arm affectionately and practically running away from him, back through the pub and out to the street where she called for a taxi.

The cab took her to 27 Elsworthy Mews where Brooks lived. It was a quick and inexpensive ride. Jennifer paid the cab and let it drive away.

She buzzed the intercom, but there was no answer. She buzzed again. Nothing. And then she tried the door. It was open. Pushing her way inside, Jennifer started calling for Brooks.

He wasn't on the ground floor. She went up the stairs, still calling for him. But then at last she saw him sitting at his typewriter. She'd seen him like that many times, and relief flooded her.

"Brooks! Asleep on the job? That is no way to make a deadline," she teased. But he didn't move or respond, and Jennifer felt the terror claim her. "Brooks? Brooks!"

When she turned his chair to get a better look at him, his body slumped over and fell onto the floor. Jennifer tried to catch him but couldn't manage it. He was cold and there was a bloodstain on the back of his dressing gown.