Micah took no pleasure in her surprise at his presence; he just wanted to figure out what was going on. “No, Micah, that’s my question? What are you doing here?” Shutting the door on the rain that still pounded, he stepped into the lobby. A quick shake of his dark head flung water droplets everywhere. “Following you,” he answered. Outrage flickered across her face. “What gives you the right?” “The same thing that gave you the right to keep my identity a secret.” She flinched. Micah winced. Okay, maybe that had been a shot below the belt. He looked around and asked, “You want to tell me what you’re doing consorting with a known criminal?” “None of your business.” Fury exploded through him. “I’m making it my business! In case you haven’t noticed, someone’s tried to kill me several times over the last few days. Call me paranoid, but your actions don’t add up. You don’t tell me my identity, you’re obviously hiding something and now you’re having a rendezvous with a woman who’s on a wanted poster.
