“Five … four … three … two … one … Happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year,” Derek murmured, his gaze roaming over her face.

“And to you,” Eve whispered. She grew sad as she felt this sweet, unexpected moment coming to an end.

But instead of releasing her, Derek slowly lowered his head and touched his lips to hers. The caress was warm and gentle. He made her feel delicate and special. Before she could reason herself out of the impulse, Eve kissed him back.

With a sigh of relief or gratitude, he slid his arms around her again, only this time he brought her closer. Nevertheless, it felt as right as when they were dancing. Then he slanted his mouth over hers, seeking a deeper connection …

Dear Reader,

One of my favorite approaches to use for a story is when the hero and heroine are already acquainted, but have some wrong perceptions about each other. Enter Eve Easton and Derek Roland, former neighbors in Texas, who find themselves at the same New Year’s Eve party in Colorado. Eve remembered FBI Special Agent-In-Charge Roland as professional, serious to the point of intimidating, and virtually oblivious of her existence, although they share a simpatico for being the rejected parties after their spouses have an affair and marry each other!

The surprise of Eve’s life isn’t just learning that they’re neighbors again, or that neither she nor Derek are done dealing with their respective divorces, but that she’s finally met the man of her dreams—and that Derek hasn’t been quite as oblivious of her existence as she’d believed. Now, as the youngest sibling in her family, she has to figure out if she’s gained the independence and maturity to be the ever-after love of a man like Derek.

As always, I’m mixing some real locations with some created just for the story. JW Marriott Cherry Creek, and the boutiques at Cherry Creek North, as well as the restaurants at Larimer Square actually do exist, and if you check online, you can enjoy more visuals to help you enjoy Eve and Derek’s romance.

Thank you for your continued support, and know that you can always contact me through my website, www.helenrmyers.com.

With warm regards,

Helen

About the Author

HELEN R. MYERS is a collector of two- and four-legged strays, and lives deep in the Piney Woods of East Texas. She cites cello music and bonsai gardening as favorite relaxation pastimes, and still edits in her sleep—an accident, learned while writing her first book. A bestselling author of diverse themes and focus, she is a three-time RITA® Award nominee, winning for Navarrone in 1993.

The Surprise
of Her Life
Helen R. Myers

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For dear friend, writer, horsewoman

M. Gail Reed

who lost her beloved husband during

the writing of this book.

“Doc Mike”

one of the finest, most respected veterinarians

Texas A&M ever produced.

“Death be not proud …”

Chapter One

“Oh, no—Help!”

Of course, she didn’t expect any. Eve Easton had come alone into the kitchen and was reaching into the commercial-size refrigerator with its double, glass doors to pull out the carved-crystal punch bowl, made heavier by pounds of chipped ice and boiled shrimp. But just when she turned toward the counter, the unwieldy thing had started slipping from her grasp.

Miracle of miracles, strong arms wrapped around hers in support, and a mellow, male voice assured her, “Got it.”

Too relieved to have avoided catastrophe to yelp from surprise that someone had actually heard her, Eve held her breath as, together, she and her mystery hero jointly hoisted the thing to the counter. Unfortunately, their combined momentum made it land with a sharp thud.

“Don’t shatter,” she entreated the bowl. “Glass shards aren’t a digestible garnish.” That was the problem with helping out here; everything in the place was genuine, gorgeous and breakable.

“Do you always reprimand inanimate objects?”

As her foolishness sunk in, she chuckled self-consciously—feeling increasingly so for their awkward positioning. “Oh, ignore me. I’ve spent most of my life either swimming upstream, ignoring logic, or otherwise trying to defy physics.”

“Eve? Eve Prescott … It is you.”

Already remaining stiff enough to shatter herself, Eve willed herself to faint. She was 99.99 percent sure she wasn’t dreaming, so there was no other escape from this moment. And the man who held her against the counter so tightly that they were as close as two people could get—short of sexual intimacy—sounded eerily similar to one of three people she’d hoped never to see again in this lifetime. The fact that he addressed her by her married name confirmed the impossible had happened.

God, leaving Texas wasn’t enough? In case you’ve forgotten, you don’t let Southwest fly to Mars yet.

Lifting her gaze to stare at their reflection in the glass cabinets at the end of the kitchen counter, she managed to eke out on a thin breath, “It’s Easton now, Mr. Roland. I took back my maiden name.” She didn’t dare turn her head what with him being so close, his breath already a lover’s caress against her ear and cheek.

“Of course. Sorry.”

It was then that his gaze lifted, seeming to follow hers, and they were staring at each other in the glass. “What are you doing here?” she asked him.

“I was invited—well—by a friend of an invited guest. Then by our hostess herself when my friend checked with her.”

Responding literally to her question also confirmed her conclusion—like she needed that. Derek Roland was nothing if not a stick-to-the-facts guy. What else would you expect from a government man? “I meant what are you doing in Colorado? Wait. First, would you mind—?” She bobbed her head to the right, signaling him to let go and give her some space. “If we get any closer, you’ll be able to describe my birthmark.”

With an understated clearing of his throat, he did exactly that, stepping around the kitchen bar to grasp the back of a brass-and-wood chair instead. “I live here now. Apparently you do, as well, or are you visiting relatives? You don’t resemble either of the Graingers.”

Wearing a new champagne-colored cashmere dress that felt like a second skin—something she intended to let Rae Grainger know was not her best wardrobe recommendation to date—Eve ran her hands over her hips where she could still feel his body heat. Yes, it was him—Derek Roland. Mr. Tall, Groomed and Stern. Even the perpetual frown between his eyebrows was exactly as she remembered; nevertheless, he was an attractive man, and she didn’t actually hold any resentment toward him. To be fair, she’d concluded him to be as much an injured party to what had occurred as she was. His offense was simply to be here and, therefore, was a reminder of the humiliation she’d fled Texas to forget.

“I’m not related to either Rae or Gus,” she replied, acutely aware of the visual study he was conducting of her. “Rae is my boss. Denver Events Planning.”

“From PTA fairy godmother and Booster Club organizer to events planner. That makes all the sense in the world and probably keeps you as busy as ever. You have to love the wardrobe upgrade?”

“It’s … different.” And keeping busy was the idea. She’d needed to stay as active as possible during her awake hours so she didn’t drown in a pity party for one when she should be sleeping. The paycheck was the other motivator to keep at this. “You’re absolutely right, though, I’m not qualified for much else,” she admitted ruefully.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Did you transfer to the Denver office, Mr. Roland?” she asked before he could finish. Back in Texas he’d been the most whispered-about person on their block. It wasn’t every day you had an FBI agent as a neighbor.

“Please, make that Derek, and, yes, something like that. I’m the S.A.C. here.”

“Excuse me, I’m terrible with abbreviations.”

“Special Agent-in-Charge.”

“Oh. Oh. Wow. Congratulations.” Without trying, he’d succeeded in making her feel even younger and less accomplished than she already did.

The stereotype continued to hold true; even in his gray suit and two-tone silver tie, he looked “government,” just as he had back in Texas when he and his then-wife Sam had moved in next door to her and Wes. It was when she brought over a peach cobbler she’d baked herself that Samantha Roland confided that her Derek was with “the Agency.” Derek had always struck Eve as a serious man, and you’d have to be obtuse not to notice that his job demanded much of his time. He’d almost never been around for small talk, even when outside mowing the lawn or cleaning up the branch-littered yard after a strong storm. Every chore or project was achieved at a brisk pace that suggested he had more important things to do and places to be. They were speaking more now than they had in all of the time that they’d been neighbors.

Eve doubted that she could bring herself to call him by his first name. He might only be five or so years her senior, but his whole bearing made her feel a full decade deficit in experience. “Rae will be thrilled,” she assured him, with a death hold on her role as assistant to one of the most talked-about women in Denver. “I think you’ve managed to put a new feather in her cap. With the weather as unrelenting as it is, I know she’s grateful if the D.A. or a judge will come up here. It’s usually the show business and sports people who are brave enough to take on the mountains in these conditions.”

“I’m glad I could make it. The place is spectacular.” As he spoke, Derek gave the state-of-the-art yet creative room a more thorough and admiring look. “I actually came with D.A. Maines.”

She literally bit her tongue to avoid saying, “Oh,” and spread her hands in a well-there-you-have-it gesture. If D.A. Maines remembered her, it would be as the coat check girl, when she’d actually handed him a program and glass of champagne at the pre-party to the opening of the theater’s yearly premiere of The Nutcracker ballet.

“His wife is with their daughter on a school-related trip to Italy, and he wasn’t up for ringing in the New Year with a TV dinner and case files.”

Never mind trying to picture the district attorney eating a frozen dinner, Eve had to force her gaze from Derek’s mouth. Slightly curved into a smile, his lips weren’t as thin as she used to believe, now that they weren’t fixed in that tight, white line they usually were back in Texas. In fact they seemed kind, and—tempting.

“You cut your hair.”

The unexpected observation had her self-consciously smoothing the short wisps at her nape. A year ago, her naturally blond locks had almost reached her waist. “There’s an understatement if I ever heard one. My ex—and probably yours—would say that I look scalped.”

“You look … great. Very chic, or is that an archaic expression these days?”

At first, she’d worried that the style made her look like a street urchin out of Oliver Twist, but heartened by his seemingly sincere admiration a bit of her impish humor surfaced. “Full disclosure? All I was doing was indulging a little immature spite. Typical southern male, Wes would complain at the slightest trimming I’d do to get rid of split ends.”

The truth was, once past her high school cheerleading years, she felt the weight of her hair too much for her slight frame. The first thing she did, after finding the apartment in Denver, was to walk into a full-service salon and ask for it all to be cut off. It not only felt liberating in ways she hadn’t imagined, but donating her shorn locks to an organization that would turn it into a wig for a child with cancer gave her a quiet joy. Interestingly, her migraine-size headaches soon stopped, too.

“I can top that.” Derek pretended to glance around before sliding her a conspiratorial look. “As I was moving out, I came upon Samantha’s engagement ring in the bathroom. I ‘accidentally’ flipped it into the commode.”

Eve couldn’t keep from sucking in her breath at the image. Sam’s ring was only half the size of Rae’s, but it was one hundred percent more than Eve had ever worn. Too grateful for this moment to resist, she asked, “Did she notice before … you know?”

With a negligent shrug, he replied, “She must have, she signed the divorce papers.”

Eve laughed with relief. Incredible, she thought, they were actually making small talk—and it was fun. The few times they’d exchanged greetings back in Texas, she’d hesitated and stuttered like a nine-year-old, finding herself in front of the school principal.

“Are you liking Colorado?” she ventured.

“So far, so good, although it took me a while to adjust to the altitude.”

“As physically fit as you people have to be?” Eve didn’t hide her surprise. “I thought I was going to have to buy my own personal oxygen tank. And it was a good thing I wasn’t wearing a ring anymore because my fingers swelled like sausages on a grill.”

Derek’s answering glance exposed his amusement but disbelief. “I knew you’d moved, Eve. I just had no idea it was here. I hope this isn’t too awkward for you, but I was merely looking for a secluded spot to check my BlackBerry for calls without appearing rude or attracting too much attention.”

Sensing he was turning back into FBI Agent Roland, Eve pointed to the sunroom at the back of the kitchen. It was a rather romantic nook with the outdoor lights from the patio twinkling through the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Consider me gone. If you need more light, there’s a switch to your left as soon as you enter. You’ll have the kitchen to yourself. I’m off to deliver this,” she said, gesturing to the bowl that had started their conversation.

Frowning, he reached out to stay her retreat. “Give me a second and I’ll carry that beast for you.”

With that he removed the BlackBerry from its belt clip, exposing his badge, and focused on the small screen. After only a few seconds and fewer clicks, he replaced it.

“Lead the way,” he said, reaching for the heavy receptacle.

She did, acutely aware of his gaze following her every step. Although she thought she looked the best she had in a year, she would have passed on this glove of a dress if not for Rae’s insistence when they’d gone on a shopping spree together. Granted, she’d admitted that she was frustrated with her harmless, girl-next-door image, but blatant-vamp persona felt a ridiculous reach. Angelina Jolie in The Tourist, she wasn’t. But the knee-length dress was a contradiction, as well. It had a demure, high front, but Derek had the real view—a seriously low, cowl neck in back exposing just about every inch of her from nape to waist, all of which was prickling—and not because the temperature in the house was too low. She wasn’t a gambler, but she could feel Derek’s gaze contemplating what she was and wasn’t wearing beneath the thing.

At the long buffet in the dining room, Eve indicated the spot where the bowl should go and stepped aside for him to put his hefty load in its place. “I do appreciate this,” she said as discreetly as she could, counting how many pairs of eyes had noticed.

“My pleasure. Besides, that dress doesn’t look like anything you can machine wash and I’m fast concluding that eau de shrimp isn’t the right fragrance for you.”

She heard a few chuckles from people overhearing the exchange and felt a betraying heat creep into her face. Special Agent Roland was flirting … with her. The man whom she last saw angry enough to bite inch-thick bolts in two when he’d come to confront Wes about his affair with Samantha. She couldn’t begin to wrap her mind around that idea.

“Eve, introduce me to this gallant gentleman,” Rae said, joining them. “I thought I’d greeted all of our guests, but I’m obviously remiss in welcoming you,” she added to Derek. She extended her beautifully manicured hand in a way that best displayed her French-tipped fingernails and several carats of diamonds.

Almost as tall as Derek and luscious in a silver-sequined, full-length gown, Rae’s personality was cranked tonight to radiate mach charm. Her reputation in Denver was at once admired and resented due to her ambition and fearlessness. She never questioned her taste or decisions and if a client did, they didn’t need to hire Rae Grainger for their function. That matched her bold appearance—flaming red hair and matching lips, permanent liner and eyebrows, and teeth that any TV personality would kill for.

With wry circumspection that played well to her brashness, Derek picked up a napkin, wiped his right hand and took hers. “Mrs. Grainger. Thank you for allowing me to join you.”

“You don’t look like a golfing buddy or business associate of my husband’s. And you have better manners.”

“More like an associate of D.A. Maines, who is taking pity on someone relatively new in town. Derek Roland.”

Rae’s face radiated her recognition and she nodded approvingly, which almost ended suspiciously like a royal bow. “I remember now. How lovely to have you, Special Agent-in-Charge Roland.”

Eve resisted the urge to roll her eyes by respecting her incredible memory. Rae could recite event quotes, guest lists and her daily phone log from a month back.

“Call me Derek, please … unless I come bearing a warrant.”

With a throaty laugh, Rae replied, “Well, Derek, you are obviously blessed with as much good taste as you are with chivalry and wit. I’ve about given myself an ulcer at the idea of all this loveliness going to waste.” As she spoke, she swept her hand toward Eve.

For the briefest moment, Eve thought the groan in her mind actually burst from her lips. But unable to stay silent out of fear total humiliation was forthcoming, she stage-whispered, “This was my former neighbor, Rae. My ex and his are now married.”

Rarely rattled, the resilient redhead muttered a brief, “Crap” through a frozen smile.

“Or something to that effect,” Eve muttered, wishing for a glass of anything to swig down. Crawling under the twenty-thousand-dollar dining table was out of the question. “I’m going to get the last of the sushi now,” she said to the room at large. “With luck, I’ll trip along the way, knock myself out and come to with amnesia.”

Once back in the kitchen, she leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the refrigerator. What had she done to deserve this? Even though Derek was being an absolute gentleman, he was a reminder of everything she’d been trying to put behind her, namely her failure as a wife and as a woman.

Hearing the door creak open behind her, she quickly made her way to the sink where she pumped soap into her palm and then ran water to wash her hands before setting to work again. She wasn’t surprised to see Derek’s image suddenly reflected beside hers in the sink window.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Sure. This happens to me every day.”

“You don’t sound okay.”

“Well, don’t take this personally, but having all but cried my way through Christmas because I missed my family and we were too busy to get time off to fly down to see them, the last thing I needed was my past hitting me in the face like a tacky pie-throwing joke.”

As she witnessed Derek’s head rear back as though she’d struck him on the chin, Eve grimaced and turned to face him. “I didn’t mean you. I meant the affair and everything. You’ve been all kindness. But you don’t know Rae. She may have appeared apologetic, but she’s taking your consideration to me the wrong way, as she will your presence. Trust me, regardless of what I said, or will say, she’s got an idea in her head and she will Frankenstein monster it into—I don’t want to think what.”

If he was upset at that news, Derek didn’t show it. Instead, he ripped off a sheet from the paper towel roll beside him and handed it to her.

“Oh, good grief, see? I’m dripping all over the hardwood floor and myself.”

“I wish you weren’t so uncomfortable about our reunion,” he said as she dried her hands, blotted her skirt and quickly dabbed at the few drops on the floor.

“You aren’t?”

“Not at all. I remember you as lovely in all ways, and I felt as badly for you as I did for myself. More actually.”

His flattery was as potent as wine and she was grateful for the need to turn her back on him so she could toss the paper towel in the trash compactor. “Why? You don’t know me. Maybe I deserved what happened. Do you realize this is the longest conversation we’ve had in all the time we were neighbors?”

“My work requires me to read people well.”

Thinking of his choice in marriage partners, she spun around. “I have two words for you and her initials are—”

“Resist that one.” Derek came an inch away from touching his index finger to her lips before stopping himself. “I don’t want to be remotely tempted to speak your ex’s name in rebuttal.”

As he continued to be transfixed by her lips, Eve grasped at humor as she always did when finding herself in an uncomfortable moment. “Hey, I never said I’m a good judge of character. I’m always surprised when people don’t mess up or let me down. Take my mother for example—I counted on her to produce another sibling so I wouldn’t be stuck being the baby of the family and forever being treated as if I have packing bubble for brains and shouldn’t be let outside after dark. But did she follow through? Nope.”

His tender smile was a dirty trick. It transformed his face in a way that made her tummy tighten and her heart flutter. In self-defense, Eve circled the island the long way around to take the plastic wrapping off of the last two trays.

“I have to get the rest of this sushi out there,” she told him.

“Let me take it,” Derek said. “No doubt you’ve been going nonstop since before this party started. Sit down. Breathe. I’ll bring us back a glass of something. Do you prefer bubbles or ice?”

He intended to prolong this? After a moment of dread, she had to admit she would be grateful to delay Rae’s inevitable questions. “Neither,” she forced herself to say. “If there’s any Cabernet or Pinot Noir open, that would be nice.”

He left before Eve could change her mind.

If only she could sneak out the back door and leave. However, having arrived early this afternoon, she knew her SUV was undoubtedly blocked in several times over. The plan had been for her to spend the night in one of the guest rooms.

Feeling trapped and so off balance that she was starting to scratch at her wrist, then her neck, she withdrew to the little garden table in the sunroom. “No hives,” she commanded herself. “Please no hives.”

The coolness and darkness enveloped and soothed her. Just these few yards even cut the sound of the revelry going on in the other parts of the house.

Breathe.

“Where did you go?”

He had returned quickly, Eve thought, or else she’d managed to zone out longer than she’d imagined. “Back here,” she called, raising her hand to wave. She hadn’t turned on the sunroom light and knew she was concealed in the shadows.

“Nice,” he said, setting the two fat goblets of dark red wine on the glass table. He eased onto the diminutive iron garden chair that faced her. “Is this thing going to take my weight?”

“It manages Gus’s. He and Rae often have coffee or wine here. Rae made this set herself.” Eve enjoyed Derek’s startled look. “Physically, she may trigger thoughts of a flashy bird-of-paradise blossom, and heaven knows that’s her personality, but she’s as serious a craftsman in her free time as she is a businesswoman.”

“Great praise considering that you sounded like you wanted to take clippers to those French nails of hers for her attempted matchmaking.”

The man saw entirely too much for her peace of mind. “Rae has no sense of boundaries where her affections are concerned. She expects us to recognize that what she does is for our own good. Just ask Gus,” Eve added with a chuckle. “But she’s been the equivalent of that college degree I never got as she’s mentored me. And she’s generous to a fault.”

“Then I’m glad you found her. Has this been your first position since moving up here?”

“My second, actually. My first was a secretarial position in the front office of the Broncos, but that was all too much of a reminder of what I’d just left.” Trying to think of a segue out of this line of conversation, she stroked the cool edge of the smooth goblet. Glass was one of her favorite mediums, but she had no artistic passion to do something creative herself. She was beginning to wonder if she had any passion whatsoever. She had Wes to thank for that self-doubt, as well.

“Doesn’t the D.A. want a little of your time?” she asked a little too brightly. “I thought when someone invites you to something like this, it’s because there are things they want to talk about. Or there’s someone you needed assistance in meeting at the function.”

As he tasted his wine, Derek’s gray eyes lit with amusement. “That’s mostly the case in fiction when you have to fill the pages between action scenes. If it wasn’t for my swollen ego, I’d worry that you’re trying to get rid of me.”

“No,” she lied. “But I just wanted you to know that I understood if you wanted to get back to mingling or—I don’t know what’s off-limits to talk about given your job?” Our past. Did you ever have a clue as to what was going on? Was Wes as friendly to you as Sam was to me pretending that everything was normal?

“Ask what you’d like—except for the number of the red phone on the president’s desk. Also, if there really are aliens at Area 51.”

Suddenly, Eve got it—she was fluff to him. Harmless. Her makeover may have upgraded her sex appeal, but he undoubtedly knew better and just saw her as an easy route to getting through his own difficult holiday break before returning to his real world. That compelled her to ask a question that would have annoyed her if their places were reversed.

“Have you heard anything from Samantha since your divorce?”

“No,” he said, without hesitation. “But I’d made it clear to her that I expected not to, except through our attorneys. Are you hoping to hear from Wes?”

“Good grief, no. I think that’s the one thing that would make my family disown me.”

“Whatever it takes,” he mused.

While his lips curved in that appealing way, Eve thought she read something in his smoke-colored eyes that made her think of secrets. She grew immediately apprehensive. “But you … know … something?”

“Eve, it’s New Year’s. Do you really want to do this?”

“The fool got fired, didn’t he? It serves him right. I was always baking brownies and fried pies to soothe the assistant coaches he’d offend—”

“I hear through reliable sources that our exes are expecting.”

She didn’t gasp, she had that much control. But otherwise, Eve was shocked into just staring at him.

“There lies the lesson,” Derek said quietly, almost apologetic. “Sometimes flirting with the idea that you want information ends up teaching you that you don’t.”

Summoning what pride she could, she straightened her spine and squared her shoulders and insisted, “I’m only surprised at how fast it happened.”

“I suspect, being several years older than you, Samantha’s biological clock was sounding like Big Ben’s toll to her.”

“You didn’t want children?” she asked, without thinking.

His look was enigmatic, but he replied, “A child isn’t always the solution to problems.”

Eve looked out into the magical night and watched the lights twinkle on the shrubbery and trees. “I’m so clueless, I didn’t know we had problems. We were married for almost eight years, and I believed him when he reasoned that we should wait before starting a family.” Until he had job security, then it was a larger nest egg, then it was something else.

“Well, if money was one of the reasons, they don’t have that concern now. I gave Sam the house, and she’ll get close to half of my pension to date.”

Eve slid him a sympathetic look. “You were very generous.”

After something close to a growl, he replied, “Legally, there wasn’t much I could do about the pension, and I ended up giving her my equity in the house to keep from having to liquidate a few other things that I inherited from my side of the family.”

“You don’t have anyone left, do you? I think I remember Sam saying you were an only child, too?”

“That’s right.”

“Thankfully all of my family is still alive.” Eve almost felt guilty for having so much when he had so little. What’s more, she had a reliable vehicle and a modest nest egg from her share of the equity that had come from the sale of their house, and Wes’s college debt was paid off. “I’m sorry that you have to think about Wes living in your house.”

“That happens less than you might think.”

Seeing his eyes try to hold her gaze, she admitted, “You know, back when we were neighbors, I was intimidated by you. So much so that I delayed going outside if you were mowing or something.”

He leaned forward and offered a conspiratorial, “We train to have that effect on people. Keeps everyone but reporters and politicians at arm’s length.” Lifting his glass again he waited for her to lift hers and gently touched rim to rim. “Allow me to make amends.”

Eve’s heart skittered at his subtle flirtation. “Amends” were not necessary and those feelings were part of a past she really was trying to put behind her. On top of that, she reminded herself, while he was handling her with kid gloves, she was still being handled. He’d admitted as much. He was a control-oriented man. Hadn’t she just divorced one of those? Maybe Wes was an amateur compared to someone trained by a government agency, but Wes had carried some clout in their community as he’d risen to the post of head coach of consistently winning football, basketball and baseball teams. Increasingly, he’d carried that persona home with him. She’d parried it with some success through her sense of humor and the reminder that “For better or worse” didn’t necessarily mean illness, it meant someone dropping the ball relationship-wise. No, hindsight told her that she hadn’t been completely blindsided by the divorce.

“You have to appease my curiosity,” Derek said, breaking into her thoughts. “What brought you to Colorado? I think Samantha said you were born and raised in Texas.”

“That’s true. All of the senior members of the family live near a retirement community north of Houston. That’s where both sets of my grandparents are. My parents joke that they live off campus.” At Derek’s surprised look, she grinned with pleasure. “Yeah, the Eastons and Leelands are a bunch of tough old birds. Plus I have an older brother, Nicholas, in Houston. He’s a cardiac surgeon, and my middle sibling, Sela, is a corporate attorney in San Antonio. To answer your question, I just needed some space. It’s true that my grandparents are getting frail, but I thought I could catch a flight anytime and spend a long weekend with everyone. What I didn’t count on was how busy Rae would keep me. And I must admit the cold makes me question part of my decision. Don’t get me wrong, I like the outdoors but winters aren’t as long in Texas as they are here.”

“You’ve got that right. Do you ski?”

She couldn’t quite stifle a giggle as she thought of her answer. “I’m deemed expert on the kids’ beginner slope, and I’ve humiliated myself twice by taking the 360-degree excursion tour via the lift to the adult slope. Just ask Rae and Gus.”

“I could cure that.”

Wow, Eve thought, when the man wanted to make a point, he didn’t mince words. “Short of threatening me with arrest for scaring children and wildlife with my screams, I doubt it.”

Derek’s look was as intimate as it was confident. “That I’d never do.”

Once again she felt things she had no business feeling around this man. Eve was certain that he didn’t really mean to sound seductive, but an undeniable chemistry had spawned between them. What a surprise, considering his deceptively conventional appearance. His square-jawed, slightly off-angle face denied him classical handsomeness the way his loose-fitting suit almost hid that he was a man of strength. Having glimpsed his badge as he’d tucked away his BlackBerry, she supposed the cut of his clothing was to hide what else that belt carried. She’d seen him in shorts and his legs were powerful and well shaped. Even tall Sam must have felt tiny wrapped in his arms.

“Well, either way,” she said, grateful for the darkness that hopefully hid her blush, “you’d be wasting your time.”

“Then you should try cross-country skiing with me. I actually like it better. Shorter skis, and you can pick the difficulty of your terrain. Plus it’s more private,” he added at her doubtful look. “Few people to see any mishaps.”

Her traitorous imagination pictured them in a secluded part of the woods, her sandwiched between him and a great old pine, him unzipping her jacket and caressing and kissing her until she couldn’t feel the cold anymore.

She shook her head to stop the images. “Skidding across the supermarket parking lot is as adventurous as I’m willing to get these days. Trust me, I’m too boring for you.”

“Says who? Wes the Wonderful, who needed to collect more than sports trophies to feel good about himself?”

Although his tone wasn’t unkind, the sting of truth had Eve swallowing hard. She raised her glass in salute, even though she wasn’t sure her hand would be steady. “You’ve got me, G-man. I guess a new dress does not a bruised ego fix.”

“It’s New Year’s and whether you’re into resolutions or not, at least let your hair down for the evening. Figuratively speaking,” he added, giving her cute do another admiring glance. “That’s a great song they’re playing out there, can you hear it?”

She could. She was woefully behind with new titles and singers, but she loved this classic. “Etta James singing ‘At Last.’”

“Ma’am.” Derek rose and formally bowed as he extended his hand. “These are close quarters, but would you care to shuffle?”

Why not? she thought, liking him more with each surprising disclosure into his character. She also was touched at how he was trying to make her feel comfortable around him. Unable to deny the invitation in his eyes, Eve placed her hand in his and rose. “Brave man risking a trip to the E.R. tonight.”

His chest shook in laughter as they stepped toward each other in that little cool nook bathed in muted light and surrounded by Rae’s pots of herbs. Their addictive scents added to the ambience as man and woman rocked gently to the romantic jazz. In her heels, Eve’s temple barely reached his freshly shaven, strong jaw, and yet her hand, engulfed in his, felt like she was cocooned in peace. It was intriguing to discover that someone larger than Wes, and in a more serious line of work, could exhibit so much more tenderness.

“You’re one surprise after another,” she murmured, letting her eyes close. “I’m going to remember this.”

“I damn well hope so.”

She chuckled softly at his mock indignation. “Do you sing?”

“Now you’re pushing your luck.”

As he spoke, his breath subtly moved her bangs and tickled her forehead. She realized she wouldn’t have minded if they were his lips. “Do you mind if I do?”

“Are you kidding? Was Tom Hanks ever crazy enough to say no to Meg Ryan?”

Softly, Eve crooned the next stanza.

“Lady, you have soul in your genes.” Derek stopped and coaxed her chin up so he could see her face. “I want to hear more.”

But there was no more music. The stereo went silent and someone turned up the TV to play the countdown to the New Year. Eve and Derek looked at each other. Despite the distance, the cacophony threatened to shatter the fragile web of magic between them. Time had passed more quickly than either of them realized and caught them in a particularly unexpected and potentially complicated situation.

“Five … four … three … two … one … Happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year,” he murmured, his gaze roaming over her face.

“And to you,” Eve whispered. She grew sad as she felt this sweet, unexpected moment coming to an end.

But instead of releasing her, Derek slowly lowered his head and touched his lips to hers. The caress was warm and gentle. He made her feel delicate and special. Before she could reason herself out of the impulse, Eve kissed him back.

With a sigh of relief, or gratitude, he slid his arms around her again, only this time he brought her closer. Nevertheless, it felt as right as when they were dancing. Then he slanted his mouth over hers, seeking a deeper connection.

“Eve?” Rae called as she swept into the kitchen. “Have you seen Special A—? Oh … and there you are!”

Chapter Two

Eve and Derek separated like guilty teenagers caught by their parents. Well, she did, which gave Derek little choice but to release her. She automatically smoothed her hands over her dress, while miserably watching Rae pat her hands together as though she’d just hit the jackpot at Vegas.

“Do you need me to bring out something?” she asked.

“No, no. Apologies, darling,” the redhead all but gushed. “I just had to tell Special Agent-in-Charge Roland that we need to arrange for a ride for him. The district attorney’s neighbor’s house is on fire, and he rushed off to make sure all is well at his home. He sends his deep regrets,” she added to Derek. “Eve dear, I’m thinking you should handle this, since you and Derek are longtime friends.”

As Rae began bobbing her head up and down for emphasis, Eve started shaking hers. Leave the party with Derek Roland? They’d only been alone for a little while and look what had already happened! Besides that, she wasn’t about to drive down this mountain at night with the road still mostly covered in packed snow and ice. She was barely competent at driving in the stuff down on the flats.

“Rae, did you forget that I was to stay and help Carmella clean up?” she asked, referring to the Graingers’ live-in housekeeper.

Rae dismissed that technicality with a flick of her hand. “If I can’t adjust to a little unexpected glitch like this, I’m in the wrong business, aren’t I? Not to worry, dearest. We’ll get things taken care of. Enjoy the reunion, you two and—Happy New Year.”

She dashed away before Eve could think of another reason her presence was vital. That left her and Derek in awkward silence.

This was definitely a night for reality checks, she thought with increasing embarrassment. “I can’t decide whether she thought she was helping, or being sarcastic,” Eve told him. “I’ll go explain that she was wrong about what she thinks she saw.”

“What was it then?”

The question, as much as the way he was watching her, left Eve at a loss. She hadn’t meant to offend him. All she’d intended to say was that she’d gotten caught up in the moment. Rae might have even done her a favor before she’d made a bigger fool of herself.

“You don’t have to feel obligated about the ride,” Derek said, suddenly reaching for his BlackBerry. “I’ll call for a cab.”

To come all the way up here tonight of all nights? “The aspens will leaf out before you have any luck with that plan,” she told him, resigned to what had to be. “Rae’s right. I’ll take you.” It was the only principled thing to do. Tomorrow, Eve told herself, tomorrow she would talk to Rae. Explain that what she saw was just a bit of late-night craziness on top of a hectic schedule and too little rest or food. “Let me get started on loading the dishwasher.” Back in pragmatic mode, she felt more in control of herself. “We’ll have to wait a few minutes anyway, until some guests leave and there’s access to my car.”

It was closer to an hour before that became possible, but it passed quickly with Derek insisting on doing his share to help. Eve didn’t know whether to be flattered or wonder if he was staying close because he suspected that she might change her mind and abandon him, too?

Finally, after saying a formal good-night to the Graingers and the die-hard partiers, Eve led the way to her red SUV. Only a few steps out the front door and—despite the salt they’d spread earlier—she slipped on some resilient ice. Thanks to Derek’s fast reflexes and strength, he saved her from a nasty backward fall.

“Those heels are suicidal. You should have brought boots to change into.” His breath creating puffs of vapor in the frigid night air that floated around the faux-fur trim of her red parka telling her what she already knew, since his hands were clasped tightly to her waist and her back was flush to his torso. He was leaning close trying to see her face. But now that they were more alone than ever, she couldn’t risk looking into those soul-searching, shaman eyes of his.

“I did. They’re still in my suitcase,” she said, pointing at her vehicle. “I didn’t think I’d need them or my case until later.”

“This is just not turning out to be your night, is it?” he said wryly.

He didn’t know the half of it, she thought, as they continued on toward the SUV. However, as she began to key the door locks, she knew she couldn’t continue this way. “Full disclosure,” she blurted out. “I’m an insurance agent’s dream customer. Not so much as a driving citation, let alone a fender bender on my record. But the other reason I wanted to stay here tonight and help out wasn’t because of you. It was to avoid driving down this mountain in the dark. On the cliff side of the road, no less.” She held out her keys to him as though they were toxic. “Even if you didn’t go through one of those wild defensive driving courses I’ve heard they give you guys … would you mind? And feel free to resist confessing if your own driving record is the worst in the Bureau’s,” she quickly added.

“It isn’t.” The speed with which Derek took possession indicated that he’d been trying hard not to suggest this solution from the moment they’d stepped outside. “Let me get your door,” he said, all solicitude and reassurance. Keeping his arm around her, he succeeded in getting her safely inside.

When they were both settled and he had the engine purring, she fastened her seat belt, turned on her seat’s warmer. Then she basically continued with all of the little fussing movements that came with the reality that their close confines felt more intimate than the sunroom did.

“I think I’ve lost feeling in a few toes,” she said, leaning forward to watch as she wriggled them in the strappy shoes.

“I should have carried you,” Derek said. “It would have been faster and safer.”

The idea of being in his arms again heated her body faster than the heater could. “You’re kind, but tongues will be wagging enough as it is.”

She could feel his sidelong glance and just knew a question was coming; however, it didn’t. Relieved, Eve prepared herself for the nerve-wracking descent.

As they started down the winding road, Eve was surprised to see that although there had been several people leaving at the same time, she could see only one car ahead of them. Everything else was dark, including most of the other houses tucked into the mountainside. By day she loved this area, loved the way nature crafted art via location and climate into every tree, the way sun and shadows played tricks on the eyes making you see things that weren’t there, and forced you to pay closer attention to not miss what was. But at this hour, all she saw was the sweep of snow cutting downhill and its steepness made her stomach roil.

In self-defense, she half turned to face Derek. “Don’t think I’m staring,” she told him. “I’m simply trying to avoid dealing with what’s behind me.”

“I have to ask, just to reassure myself—is there a panic attack issue you need to tell me about?” Although he frowned, and didn’t take his eyes off the road, there was amusement in his voice. “I don’t have to worry about you grabbing the wheel or anything, do I?”

“I don’t think I’m that far gone. Unless we skid.” Please don’t skid. Please don’t skid. But he was handling the machine beautifully, so far successfully avoiding every patch of ice.

“Why don’t you tell me about that birthmark?”

“That what?” Belatedly, Eve remembered her earlier remark when he’d first entered the kitchen. “Oh! That was just … comedic relief.”

“I’m crushed.”

Eve wished she had the courage to turn forward again, but was afraid that if she did, she would lose what little she’d eaten this evening. She chose her second-best option—to duck deeper into her jacket like a shy turtle. “I’m not really the flirt you’re taking me for.” Of all the people she’d had to make a fool of herself in front of, why did it have to be him?

“Doubly crushed.”

“Seriously. I’m the dumped wife, remember? Sex appeal in the negatives.”

“Right. Which is why, in hindsight, I found myself wishing Rae had taken a wrong turn instead of locating us as quickly as she did.” Shifting slightly in his seat, he abruptly added, “This might sound like bitterness, since I’m the rejected party, as well, but I don’t owe Sam squat, let alone allegiance, and hadn’t for some time. So let me just say this for what it’s worth. Wes is a fool … and that’s on top of being the four-letter equivalent of excrement.”

Eve waited for more, but Derek, erudite man that he was, said nothing else. “Feel better now?” she ventured to ask.

“I do, actually.” After a few moments, he added, “I wish you did.”

“I’m getting better.” At his brief, disbelieving look, she added, “It’s not like I’m hoping he’ll waken one morning to the revelation that he made a mistake.”

“I should bleeping hope not.”

It was sweet of him to be so sensitive to her battered ego. But despite his comment about loyalty undeserving, she couldn’t completely shake the nagging concern that all this attention to her was because he harbored a little fantasy about exacting a bit of revenge against one or both of their former mates. Eve inwardly shook her head at how she had become her worst enemy.

In took less than twenty minutes until the worst of their descent was over. In that time, Eve carefully kept questions away from personal matters. She asked if he supervised a large group of people, and he told her that including clerical staff, they had just under two hundred agents.

“There’s roughly the same number of specialists, analysts and pro staff. Then there’s the different task forces.”

“Good grief, you’re a king with your own kingdom,” she said, intimidated all over again.

When they could see the highway that would take them back to the city, she looked for signs of smoke, or—worse yet—flames, indicating D.A. Maines’s situation had grown dire. “I’m sorry I didn’t voice more concern over the D.A. Will you be able to call him and see how things are over there?”

“Yeah, I’ll check as soon as I get home.” Derek turned onto the interstate. The lights from Denver’s skyline painted a glittery landscape and stark contrast to the wooded foothills. “If anyone is going to get a fast response from the fire department, it’s his neighborhood, but I don’t blame him for hurrying off. I would have done the same thing.”

“I’ve met him only a few times, but he seems quite the family man.”

“That’s the impression I got.”

As they passed a series of restaurants, she almost pointed one out to mention that it was particularly good if he liked Thai cuisine. Then she decided against that. He’d been living here almost as long as she had and probably knew about it. And the last thing she wanted was for him to be thinking that she was hinting at an invitation.

He did get her attention when he turned onto a road that she would have taken to get home. When he took the next left, she looked at him with disbelief. But it was when he turned into her apartment complex that she tensed with unease.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” Pulling into a parking spot in front of the first building, he gave her a wary look. “Are you okay?”

No, she wasn’t okay. He was freaking her out. “This is a joke, right?”

Derek pointed to the corner apartment of the building directly in front of them. “‘E.T. go home,’” he recited, using a forlorn voice.

No. “You’re serious? You live there—since—?”

“Since I arrived in Colorado. It’ll be a year in March.” He pointed to the black SUV parked in the spot next to him. “That’s mine. Why?”

Her heart sinking, Eve reached over to shut off the ignition and pulled out her keys. She used them to point to the building diagonally across from his, specifically the bottom corner apartment. “That’s me,” she said.

Derek glanced from her to the point of her direction and back again. Then his chest started to shake on a soft laugh. “Well. Hello, neighbor … again.”

Derek meant to bring a little levity into the moment, considering that this was playing out to be a classic case of fate having the last laugh. But one look at Eve Easton’s adorable, but horrified face, and his smile waned. Damn, but the cutie was hard on his ego. The situation wasn’t as awful as all that … was it?

“Okay,” he began slowly, “you don’t think this is even the slightest bit amusing?”

“More like a bad dream.”

“Thanks a lot.”

Eve had the grace to wince. “Excuse me. I didn’t mean—”

“That you were appalled at the idea of living next door to me? And here I thought that lovely little interlude we shared in the sunroom would be—”

“This would be a good time to start forgetting that.”

“Why on earth would I want to? Tonight was the best time I’ve had since moving here. Come to think of it, it’s the best New Year’s Eve I’ve had in … long enough,” he said, realizing he was already giving away too much. She’d already managed to deflate him; there was no point in proving that not only did his love life suck, his determination to make high marks with his superiors had turned him into a workaholic. “The point is I’d hoped we’d gotten past that your-ex-dumped-you-for-my-ex hurdle.”

“I did, too … back when I assured myself that it wasn’t as if I would be seeing you every day.”

“I don’t remember the word blunt being used in reference to you.”

“I’m not being insensitive, I’m being real-time honest. Jeez, I wish I had that wine right now.”

Chuckling, Derek replied, “Evie, come on, the way we’re going I’d better wish you a happy Valentine’s, Halloween and Christmas, because it’ll be next New Year’s before we’re apt to run into each other again!”

She moaned with dismay. “Don’t call me that.”

“What? Evie?” Now he was at a loss for words. He’d meant it as an endearment. For this bizarrely intriguing conversation they were having, Eve seemed too formal, and Evie spoke to his wish that they could still be back in that sunroom with her gently murmuring lyrics that he found himself yearning in that moment to be true.

“It’s what my family calls me, especially when they’re about to patronize me for something I did or advice I wouldn’t take. Another gift that comes with being the youngest. Remember I mentioned my older brother is Nicholas? No one has called him Nick in years. He’s a cardiac surgeon. My older sister Sela is a corporate attorney. Her look will give you a freezer burn if you call her anything else.”

“I’m not patronizing you, and I understand now how pulling in here the way I did must have panicked you, but—” he gestured to their respective residences “—this is what it is.”

She shook her head as if still fighting reality with herself. After a few more seconds, though, she said, “You’re taking it awfully well.”

“Maybe because I’m honestly glad to see you again.” Leaning over a few inches he said, “This is where you could say something like, ‘You know what, Derek? I’m happy to have had a chance to see you again, too.’”

With a sheepish smile, she said, “Consider it said.”

Continuing to gauge the proximity of their buildings, Derek added, “It is odd that we haven’t crossed paths sooner.”

“The truth is that I rarely see anyone in this place except for service people and the groundskeepers. So many of the residents are professionals who tend to head to their workplaces from five-thirty to seven-thirty every morning. Rae and I usually don’t get into our office until nine because we’re often on the job later into the evening.”

“That would explain it,” Derek said, having come to the same conclusion himself. “I’m usually heading in by seven. Although that doesn’t explain weekends. What do you do on weekends, play Sleeping Beauty?” That would account for her whipped-cream complexion. His fingers itched to touch her again—in places that would probably leave her with a permanent blush.

“Hardly. That’s when I am likely to be gone before daylight, possibly not to return until dark again. We have a number of clients who, out of necessity, schedule their events for the weekend.”

“Makes sense.”

Derek hoped she would continue, to share what some of those events were like. Despite her reserve, tonight felt a little too close to kismet or destiny to see it end yet. Instead, she opened her door.

As she exited the SUV, he did, too, hurrying to help her, which proved a necessary thing when he saw that she had more ice and snow on her side than he’d previously realized—another indication that the woman had gotten to him in more ways than one. He literally lifted her by her waist as though she were a doll and placed her safety on the clear and dry walkway. “Sorry for not seeing that.”

“It’s okay,” she said a little breathless. “Derek … I hope you know that I do wish you only happiness?”

She was truly adorable with her big blue eyes refreshingly absent of guile and her mermaid-sleek body half hidden from him by a jacket, whose color perfectly matched her lip gloss. Those lips stirred hunger anew in him. Derek suspected that she didn’t have a clue as to how delectable she was because Wes the Weasel had taken her for granted, if not outright neglected her. The betrayal and divorce were the final blows to her crippled self-esteem. He hoped one day Eve would heal enough to believe that she was a delight and would be very easy to fall in love with.

“I wish you the same,” he replied with quiet earnestness. They began walking up the sidewalk that bisected their front lawns. “If things were different …”

He waited to see if she would take the bait. Women were supposed to be the curious sex and ask, “What if they were?” But she didn’t. She was proving to be an anomaly in more ways than one.

“If things were different,” he said again, determined that she hear this anyway. “I would ask you out sometime.”

At the crossroads to their respective buildings, she stopped. “That’s one of the nicest bad ideas anyone has said to me,” she said.

Unsure whether to laugh or curse, Derek had to ask the obvious. “Bad idea why?”

“Because there’s baggage, and then there’s our kind.”

“‘Our kind?’”

“Joint baggage.”

She made it sound ominous, like a five-year tax audit, or worse. “We aren’t the ones who did anything wrong.”

“Which is why if we do run into each other now and then, we can say, ‘Hello.’”

“I should hope so.” Taken aback, Derek couldn’t decide what was more astonishing, that she wanted to pretend that the too-brief, but wholly romantic interlude they’d shared earlier was easier for her to brush aside than it was for him, or that he was somehow tainted by Sam’s behavior? Hindsight being the ugly pill that it was had made him accept that Samantha had always shown the impulses of an alley cat. He supposed it was a combination of his patience and voluntary myopia that had allowed the marriage to last as long as it did. No doubt Eve had engaged in her own survival tactics, but she couldn’t still be in love with Wes—or was she so angry she was going to judge all men by her two-timing ex’s character flaws?

With a sigh, Derek gestured toward her apartment. “I’ll wait for you to get inside.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he held up his hand. “Humor me. Accept that I’m old school and want to see a lady safe and secure for the evening.”

“Okay. Thanks. Sorry.” She flapped her arms hopelessly. “I’m just no good at this.”

“No, you’re not.”

But he said it with a smile, and she laughed softly, and finally continued her way to her place.

In truth, she was a pain in places he didn’t want to think about. He ached to follow her to her door and kiss away what was left of her lipstick. Some competitive or hungry something compelled him to talk her into agreeing to see him tomorrow or the next day for coffee, lunch, or whatever. If she looked over her shoulder, he would do it.

She didn’t look back again until she had her door unlocked. Then she waved and locked up, leaving him to grimly stride to his own apartment. After bolting up behind himself, he stood in the nearly dark, too impersonal living room and felt fatigue descend upon him.

“Note to self,” he muttered, pulling at his tie. “Let it go … or move.”

“This is the winner of the Best Use of Spices float,” the female commentator for the Rose Bowl Parade said on the television.

“And I’m going nuts pretending this is what I want to be doing.”

Eve put the last of her meager Christmas ornaments into their box before reaching for the remote and turning off the TV. It was a shame considering that she’d enjoyed this ritual for years, but she just couldn’t get into watching today. What’s more, she’d already transcribed important dates onto her new calendar—birthdays, anniversaries and appointments—and removed the lights in the window and around her front door. The wreath was neatly tucked in a large trash bag in the coat closet, and the tree was about to go back into its box and join it. She was completely caught up, yet the microwave clock in the kitchen read only 10:57 a.m.

All that remained now was to call her family. But she suddenly dreaded it, despite missing them terribly. How was she going to explain last night without mentioning Derek? They’d known about the party, so there was no avoiding the subject. In fact, they’d be expecting a full recap—mostly in the hopes of discerning that she’d met someone “worthy of her” to quote her father. As good as her parents were at reading her moods and state of mind, her siblings were better than card sharks at reading her. That vetoed any idea about using her computer’s Skype application.

With the last items in the closet, she reached for her BlackBerry and scrolled down the contact list keying the number for her parents. Maybe she’d bought herself some time and would only get their answering machine. This was close to the time that they’d be heading to the retirement community where her father and maternal grandfather were likely to squeeze in a round of golf while her mother and the rest of her grandparents discussed who had been wearing the least last night on the evening TV specials. Then they would all head back to the house to wait for the arrival of her siblings, nieces and nephews.

“Eve! Happy New Year, dearest! How was your night?”

Just dive in, Eve thought. “Fine, Mom. Ho-ho to you and Dad. Everything okay down there?”

“Lovely. It’s sixty-two degrees, sparkling sunshine and we’re about to head out the door.”

“Okay, I won’t keep you. Give the Grands my love.”

“We can talk a minute. But you should call back in the afternoon and visit with everyone else. Your brother and sister say that you’ve been avoiding them.”

“They have busier schedules than I do. It’s hard to synchronize a good time to call.”

“That’s true enough, but they are worried about you, as are the rest of us. Now how was the party? Did you meet anyone interesting?”

“Tons of people,” Eve assured her. “The D.A., our congressman, the lady who hosts our local morning talk show up here …”

“Any noteworthy bachelors?”

“A sheik-in-training—some big oil guy’s nephew. But he came with a Playboy bunny,” she drawled, “and my humble little B-cup chest can’t compete with that.”

“I’m going to assume you’re teasing me the way you always do to stop me from prying.” Her mother paused to talk to someone in the background. “Your father sends his love and wants to know when you’re coming down for a visit. We discussed your situation over Christmas dinner, and your sister and brother want you to reconsider letting them arrange for some introductions.”

Eve could just imagine. She’d deferred the subject last time by simply telling them she wasn’t ready. The second time she pointed out that she would need a Bachelors and Masters to understand half of what their coworkers and friends were talking about. “I’m not exactly where I can talk, Mom. We’ll see, okay?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were still working. Of course, dear. But what will you do after you’ve finished up there? Are you getting together with friends? I so hope you’re not spending the rest of the day sitting in that tiny, dark apartment by yourself.”

Eve cringed as she glanced around her spick and span, almost empty and dark apartment. “Who, me? No way. There’s a skiing party at one of the lodges. I’ll grab a hot toddy and strike a sexy pose at the fireplace, until the risk takers get frostbite and rejoin me.”

“That sounds more like it. Do watch that no one slips something into your drink. I saw on the news last week—”

“Here’s my boss, Mom. Gotta go. Love you.”

As soon as she disconnected, Eve grimaced for having deceived her mother, but she simply didn’t want to worry her family. What was the point of putting hundreds of miles between herself and them if she wasn’t going to finally be independent and be responsible for her own decisions and actions?

She put down the phone and went to peer through the mini blinds. As usual, she saw no one out there, and Derek’s black SUV was still parked in the lot, but his mini blinds were shut tight. Lucky him if he was still asleep, she thought with envy. Lucky him if he had any sleep.

“And you actually thought you might be preoccupying his mind the way he is yours,” she muttered to herself in disgust.

The quiet surroundings did give her the perfect opportunity to get her trash to the Dumpster. She quickly slipped her parka over her oversize, black, V-necked sweater and jeans, grabbed her stuffed trash bag and made her way to the far corner of the property. Although the parking lot was two-thirds full, she didn’t see anyone or hear anything, except for the minimal traffic on the two streets that bordered their complex. With the sun shining at full force, the snow sparkled and stung her eyes, making her wish she’d thought to don sunglasses before venturing outside.

After flinging her offering up into the steel bin, she began to retrace her steps. Then she heard a sound that had her glancing up from her diligent navigation of slush piles and puddles. Derek was emerging from his apartment and locking his door.

“Really?” she asked, with a look toward the heavens.

There was no doubt that he would spot her—unless she ducked behind one of the bigger SUVs or pickup trucks. She was feeling very much the coward this morning, but she wasn’t that far gone. Besides, with her luck, someone in another apartment was likely to emerge and ask her what she thought she was doing?

Hoping that Derek was preoccupied and wouldn’t look her way, she pulled her hood over her head, tucked her hands into her pockets and kept her head down, once again focusing on where she stepped. She was halfway home when she came to the conclusion that he wouldn’t remember her jacket from last night. Men didn’t pay attention to women’s clothing, unless it was skin tight or fastened by string.

“Good morning!”

What part of FBI agent don’t you get, Easton? He’s not Wes who, if he wasn’t wearing his contacts, could pass you in your own house and not see you.

Eve stopped and pushed back her hood to find that he’d circled the side way and was almost upon her. He’d remembered his sunglasses and they gave him an air of mystery.

“Hi,” Derek said, coming to a halt not two feet away. He slid his glasses up onto his head.

“Hey.” She immediately cleared her throat because she sounded like she’d been sucking helium out of a balloon.

“Getting rid of some evidence I should know about?”

He posed the question with mock sternness, but as he nodded toward the Dumpster, she saw the smile in his eyes, even though he was squinting. He was dressed in jeans, a russet suede shirt and a black leather bomber jacket that made him every bit as appealing as he’d been in his business suit last night. Despite having wanted to avoid further contact with him, Eve couldn’t deny that he triggered inner turmoil within her, and she was glad that he was in a playful mood.

“What’s left of my counterfeiting operation,” she countered, pretending pride in her crime. “What I couldn’t sell online. Don’t bother looking for prints. I wiped everything clean before I bagged it.”

“Damn. There goes my hopes for making an arrest and getting to frisk you.”

“But we’ll always have last night.” As soon as the words were out, Eve regretted them. She hadn’t meant to send him the wrong signal, he just made it too tempting to play along. “Nice jacket,” she added quickly. “It looks vintage.”

He inclined his head in thanks. “It is. My father had his grandfather’s bomber jacket and I always admired it. Sadly, it didn’t hold up well. I found this one on craigs-list and couldn’t resist.”

“You had flyers in your family?”

“Navy, yes.”

“Do you fly?”

“No, the bug bypassed me. I try to keep both feet on the ground—or in the water if the opportunity comes up.” His expression turned quizzical. “I thought you’d be long gone back up the mountain to resume help with the cleanup?”

Eve shook her head. She wasn’t about to make herself available to Rae for another interrogation, no matter how conscientious she was to help out. “But you’re obviously off to somewhere. Don’t let me keep you.”

“Poker with some cronies,” he said, with a shrug. “I’ve reached my saturation point for reading reports and catching up on paperwork.”

Eve felt a wave of nostalgia and envy. “That’s what my family will do after dinner. Well, cards and dominoes. My grandparents insisted that even we kids learn. It guaranteed that they’d never run short of players.”

“I’ll bet you’re pretty good—except at the poker face.”

Wrinkling her nose, she admitted, “You’ll be astonished to learn that you’re not the first person to have said that.”

“I’d invite you to come along, but it’s stag. I wouldn’t subject your tender ears to that.”

“I’m sure I’m no match to you high rollers anyway.” She took a step to signal her retreat, only to remember something. “D.A. Maines—is he okay? His house?”

“Fine. Perfect. The neighbor’s place has damage, but it’s limited to two rooms.” Derek’s gaze grew concerned. “Are you catching a cold? Your voice sounds different and your nose is getting pinker by the second.”

She should never have mentioned her family; the tears she’d been fighting after calling home were threatening again. “Probably allergies from the dust while taking down Christmas stuff. But just in case, I better keep my distance and not contaminate you.” She took another backward step. “Good luck.”

“Take care of you.”

Eve waved her appreciation for his concern and cut a brisk about-face to increase her pace back to her apartment. Her mood sank with each step as she processed what he’d told her.

He had friends, a life, things to do. How silly and egotistical to hide indoors believing he’d been lying in wait for her!

Note to self—he’s out of your league! Get back to doing what you came up here to do.

Chapter Three

“Eve! Will you come in here please?”

Rae had only been in the office a few minutes before that sharp command came. It sent the other five people in the outer room trying to hide behind their laptops. Sitting at a desk that faced the others in their lobby office, Eve gave up on the call she’d been repeatedly attempting without success since arriving two hours ago. A consistent busy signal at a florist the day after New Year’s was an attention-getter. It should be their quiet time, so either someone big had died, or there had been a number of passings over the holiday.

“On my way,” she called back. Wryly noting the other ladies’ reactions, she grabbed her notebook and daily planner, and hurried into Rae’s resplendent copper-and-leopard-skin-wallpapered office and closed the door behind her. “The troops want to know if you need sweetener in your coffee?”

“I’m not being witchy, I’m legitimately upset. Where are the brochures for the historical building fundraiser that were promised first thing this morning? I was going to take some to the luncheon—a good idea, n’est-ce pas? And who decided mud brown napkins were a good color for a formal event?” She pushed the offending item across her desk with her pen as though afraid the color would come off and stain her designer winter-white suit.

Eve recognized the napkin and realized that was a possibility. “Oui, il est si,” she replied obediently, knowing Rae’s penchant for constant self-improvement. But she had the French, Is it not so? Yes, it is so down pat. What she wanted was for something to go smoothly this morning. They were starting January seriously behind. “Lisa expedited the brochures the minute she arrived. We know they’re on the freight carrier’s truck for delivery today. The time is anyone’s guess. I knew Honor had put a report on your desk, but I didn’t realize she’d put a napkin in there, too. I’m guessing that since The Garden Show does include dirt, she thought the City of Denver booth should use a color that was a thematic match. I’m sure when she found that big box of them in the storage room, she also thought she was doing you a huge favor and saving the firm money.” The city planned on serving herbal tea to visitors at the February show, as they handed out maps of the city’s parks.

“I should have known this was Honor’s doing.” Dropping her pen on her desk, Rae rested her head in her hand and used the opportunity to peek under her fingers at their newest employee sitting closest to the entryway. “The poor dear. She makes a fine receptionist, but there’s no future for her on our front line.”

While Eve ultimately agreed, she couldn’t blame the middle-aged widow entirely for what had happened. “We really should have eaten the loss and tossed the napkins the first time we realized the color bled the moment the napkin gets wet. It’s not like we were going to risk using them for another client’s event.”

Looking ready to justify her decision, Rae opened her mouth to respond, only to check herself. “Fudge,” she muttered instead. Dropping the napkin into her trash can under her desk, she said, “Have her call Carlos down in Maintenance to get him to take those things to the Dumpster. Then add white cocktail napkins to your list. You’re still handling the nonperishable shopping this afternoon for the Medical Center open house, aren’t you?”

That had been the plan when they last went over schedules before the holiday. “I have so many fires to put out, I can’t afford to lose the time here. If you don’t mind, I’ll do it on my way home this evening?”

“As busy a week as it’s going to be, I hate for you to have to do that, but thank you. What else is wrong?”

“I can’t get anyone to answer at Executive Floral Services. Did some big deal in Denver die that I don’t know about?” she asked her boss. She’d accused Rae of sleeping with a radio scanner beside the bed, since she was always on top of the news in town.

“No, but there was some cable cut at a construction site by the airport. That could have something to do with the problem.” Rae browsed through the other paperwork and mail that was covering her desk. “Why don’t you detour that way on your lunch hour?”

“Because I’m not taking lunch, for the same reason I’m not going shopping for those supplies until later.” Realizing Rae hadn’t noticed yet, Eve updated her. “At any moment Kristen is going to admit that she’s come down with the flu and—”

“Good grief, where’s my disinfectant spray?” Rae opened her top desk drawer and took out a bottle of hand sanitizer instead. “Now the alcohol in this will make me look like a crone. Tell her to get out. Now. We can’t afford to spread her condition through the office. And tell her to stop and get a case of chicken soup on the way home—I’ll reimburse her.”

Smiling at her boss’s logic, as well as her generosity, in the face of her germ phobia, she stepped out to have a few words with Kristen Minnow, then returned. “She says you’re the nicest scary person she knows.”

“Liar, that’s pure you,” Rae said as she waved at the departing woman through her window. As Eve resumed her seat, Rae sighed. “I’m sorry for being so tightly wound. I’d push up my sleeves and help you with things, but I have that Chamber of Commerce luncheon.”

“Yeah, that would be a smart one not to miss considering you’re an honoree. We don’t have a job if you aren’t out there doing yours. Fabulous suit, by the way.”

Turning up the collar, Rae relaxed enough to preen. “Thank you kindly. You don’t think it’s too Good Witch? I know some there will be thinking a black pointed hat would be more appropriate.”

“Only your competitors.” Crossing her arms over her sapphire-blue tunic sweater-skirt set, Eve said, “You look regal as well as radiant. Wasn’t that the idea?”

Shaking her glossy red coif, a move that also made her gold-and-diamond earrings sparkle in the light, Rae sighed with satisfaction. “You’re so good for my ego, and the best business decision I ever made.”

Eve wasn’t convinced that she agreed, considering that four of the five people left working in the next room had degrees, pedigrees and ambitions that made her look like an underachiever.

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