The Gift Of Love

A home for the holidays—that’s a pretty tall order, with Christmas only a few weeks away. But venture capitalist and single father Derek McCabe never takes no for an answer. And he’s certain that Eve Loughlin is just the Realtor to find a house for him and his young daughter.

Derek needs more than shelter, though. Being with Eve makes him aware of all he’s missing: love, companionship and a beautiful woman to share his life. Eve is all business, but there’s no denying the attraction that keeps bringing them together long after the contract is signed. Derek knows just what he wants. Can he get past that cool exterior and make her his own Christmas Eve?

Eve stiffened, unsure just how close to him she was ready to be.

“Okay,” she said with another shrug and a lift of her chin. “Then tell me about you.”

His blue eyes warming affectionately, he easily rose to her challenge. “I think Christmas is a magical time of year.”

“Because?” Eve prodded.

“The holiday opens up people’s hearts and brings them together in ways they often aren’t the rest of the year.” Derek paused and gave her another long, telling look. “Christmas makes all things seem possible.”

It was certainly making this seem possible, Eve thought, aware she barely knew him and already she felt as if they were a couple. Eve studied him right back. “You really are romantic, deep down.”

To her satisfaction, he did not even try to deny it.

“What does Christmas mean to you?” he continued.

He’d been remarkably honest. Eve knew she should be, too. Struggling to put her feelings into words, she raked her teeth across her lower lip. “I think it’s great if you have a big happy family, like you apparently do.”

Once again, he seemed to intuit all she wasn’t saying. “But otherwise?” Derek tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Eve appreciated the tender feeling of his fingers against her skin. “It can be—it has been—the loneliest time of the year for me.”

Derek smiled and dropped his hand. “Then it’s time that changed.”

Dear Reader,

The holidays are an emotional time of year. For some of us, deeply so. Eve Loughlin has never experienced the true joy of Christmas. She has accepted that for her, and her family, this is just the way it is. Yet she still feels a pang when December rolls around and she sees the giddy excitement of those around her.

Derek McCabe grew up with all the advantages. For him, Christmas was a time when family abounded and dreams came true. Yet now, as a divorced dad, he worries he will not be able to provide his baby girl with the same happiness he experienced.

Eve is ready to help Derek find the perfect home in which to raise his daughter. She doesn’t expect, however, in this season of miracles, to find such bliss of her own. And when she does, she can’t help but wonder if such unexpected happiness will last.

I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. For more information on this and other titles, please visit me on Facebook and at www.cathygillenthacker.com.

Happy holidays,

Cathy Gillen Thacker

The Texas Christmas Gift

Cathy Gillen Thacker

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Cathy Gillen Thacker is married and a mother of three. She and her husband spent eighteen years in Texas and now reside in North Carolina. Her mysteries, romantic comedies and heartwarming family stories have made numerous appearances on bestseller lists, but her best reward, she says, is knowing one of her books made someone’s day a little brighter. A popular Mills & Boon author for many years, she loves telling passionate stories with happy endings, and thinks nothing beats a good romance and a hot cup of tea! You can visit Cathy’s website at www.cathygillenthacker.com for more information on her upcoming and previously published books, recipes and a list of her favorite things.

This book is dedicated to Grant James Thacker,

the best little brother two sisters could ever have.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Excerpt

Chapter One

“Derek McCabe is still on the phone?” the office manager asked.

In her private office, no less. Doing her best to curtail her irritation, Eve Loughlin smiled. “Yep.”

Sasha handed her a beautiful red poinsettia from a grateful client. “Well, at least he’s easy on the eyes.”

Worse, Eve thought, hazarding a glance through the glass door, the amazingly successful venture capitalist had to know it. With his dark brown hair, ruggedly chiseled face and mesmerizing blue eyes, he was handsome enough to stop traffic. His broad-shouldered, six-foot-three-inch frame, currently garbed in an elegant, dark gray suit, made him even more of a catch. If she’d been looking. She wasn’t.

Luckily, at that moment his call ended.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Eve squared her shoulders and walked back into her office.

“Sorry about that,” Derek said. “I’m investing in a technology company. There were some last-minute details to work out.”

“I understand,” Eve replied. Even though she didn’t. Why did Loughlin Realty’s well-heeled clients think their time was somehow more valuable than the agents they employed to buy and sell their houses?

She set the plant on her credenza, next to several other gift baskets and a ribbon-wrapped bottle of champagne, then returned to her desk. “So back to where we were,” she continued crisply. Which hadn’t been far, given the fact that Derek had taken the call on his cell thirty seconds after he had walked in. “Have you had time to answer the questionnaire I emailed you?”

He shook his head and lowered himself into a chair in front of her desk. “We don’t need to bother with that.”

Of course they didn’t, Eve thought with mounting frustration. She settled into her ergonomically designed swivel chair.

“I know exactly what I’m looking for,” he stated amiably.

Eve picked up her notepad and pen. “Then suppose you tell me.”

“I want a home in Highland Park, preferably on or near Crescent Avenue. I’d like to pay between seven and eight million for it. It must have at least three bedrooms and two baths. There’ll be no need for bank financing, as I plan to pay cash.” He paused, allowing her to catch up. “I’d also like to close next week and take possession immediately.”

Eve finished writing and looked into the most gorgeous eyes she had ever seen. “I gather this is just an investment?”

“Much more, actually.” His sensual lips lifted into an easy grin. “I plan to live there with my daughter.” Affection laced his low voice. “So if you could just find something and let me know...” He glanced at his phone again, which was chiming quietly, then rose as if to leave.

Eve stood and moved around her desk. Because of the eight-inch difference in their heights, which was modified only slightly by her three-inch heels, she had to tilt her head to look up at him. “When will you be available to look at properties?” she asked, knowing from experience that he was going to be one of those demanding clients who didn’t want to waste an instant.

Derek grimaced. He shoved back the edges of his suit jacket, the impatient action briefly diverting her gaze to his flat abs and lean hips. “I only want to look at one.”

Lifting her chin, Eve studied him for a long beat. She couldn’t help wondering if the sexy venture capitalist was this way with everyone he hired. Or just the nonessential personnel? “You expect me to choose your home?” she asked drily.

He glanced at his watch as his phone chimed again, his deep blue eyes narrowing. “Yes.”

Wanting to make this work—but only to a point—Eve held up a palm. “Then I’m going to need a lot more information.”

Derek frowned. He might be only thirty-four, if the information she had found on Google prior to meeting him was correct, but he was all autocratic executive. “I’m too busy for that right now.”

Which left her no choice. She walked him to the door and opened it wide. “Then,” she said, just as imperiously, not about to make herself miserable—especially at this time of year—by working with a man who was far too big for his britches, “you’ll have to find yourself another Realtor.”

Derek stared in amazement. “You’re firing me as a client?”

Eve nodded and ushered him out. Then she smiled one last time. “Consider it my Christmas present to myself.”

* * *

TWO HOURS LATER, as she entered the conference room for the Friday afternoon staff meeting, Eve was still trying to figure out how to tell her mother what she’d done.

The two other sales agents, Vanessa and Astrid, were already there. Eve’s mom—the owner of the company—was seated at the head of the table. As always, Marjorie Loughlin was beautifully dressed, today in a red wool suit and heels, her short silvery-blond hair perfectly coiffed. Despite the artful application of makeup, Eve couldn’t help but notice her mother looked tired. But maybe that was to be expected. Like the rest of the staff of the all-female realty firm she had founded, Marjorie put in long hours.

“I have great news,” she said. “We are still ahead of Sibley & Smith Realty in annual sales by several million dollars.” She paused and massaged her left shoulder. “And you all know what that means.”

“More exclusive, top-dollar listings and sales,” Astrid declared, already pulling out her calculator.

Vanessa winked. “Not to mention that new Mercedes convertible I’ve been coveting.”

Marjorie dabbed a bead of sweat from her hairline. “Luckily, we all have clients wanting to close on homes before the end of the year.” Briefly, she went over the list of Astrid’s and Vanessa’s clients, as well as her own. Then she turned to Eve, addressing the properties and clients of primary concern. “There’s Flash Lefleur’s condo—which we really need to get sold before the listing expires—and Derek McCabe.”

“Right.” Eve steeled herself for her mother’s disapproval as she prepared to talk about the latter. “About that...”

Marjorie’s hand went to the left side of her neck. “Don’t tell me there’s a problem there.”

Except for the fact I fired him? Not a one.

Eve noted her mother was pressing her hand against the bottom of her jaw. “Mom, are you all right...?”

Marjorie winced, as if in pain.

Something was wrong! Eve rushed toward her in alarm. “Mom!”

Her skin a peculiar ashen gray, Marjorie swayed slightly. “I feel a little dizzy,” she said, then slumped in her chair in a dead faint.

* * *

ONE HARROWING AMBULANCE ride,admission to the hospital and balloon angioplasty later, Marjorie was finally declared stable and moved to a room in the cardiac care unit. Once she was settled, the doctor came in to go over the results of all the tests, as well as the emergency surgical procedure. “You were lucky. It was only a mild heart attack,” the cardiologist announced.

“Impossible,” Marjorie declared, still looking awfully pale and anxious, despite the medicines they had given her to help her relax. “I’m in perfect health. It was indigestion. A lunch gone wrong. That was all.”

The doctor turned to Eve. “Is your mother always this difficult?”

“Yes,” she said.

“No,” Marjorie stated at the same moment.

Dr. Jackson smiled and shook his head in silent remonstration, obviously having dealt with similar situations before. He turned back to his patient. “We’re going to keep you in the hospital, as a precaution, for forty-eight hours, Mrs. Loughlin. After that, I’d like you to go to the cardiac rehab unit, in the annex across the street, for another month, for further evaluation and treatment.”

“That’s impossible!” Marjorie folded her arms belligerently. “I have work to do.”

Clearly unintimidated, the physician countered, “It’s absolutely necessary, Mrs. Loughlin. You need to rest and rebuild your strength, and above all else, rethink how you’ve been living your life.”

Marjorie sent Eve a look, begging her to intervene.

“I agree with the doctor,” Eve said as the physician slipped from the room, wisely leaving the persuasion to a family member.

“But the annual sales award...”

“I’ll see we still get it,” Eve promised gently.

Still, Marjorie fretted. “I have a new client, that Houston oilman, Red Bloom, coming in soon to see the Santiago Florres‒designed home.”

Eve smiled. “Not to worry, Mom. I’ll take care of that, too.”

“You have Derek McCabe....”

Eve had had plenty of time to regret her foolhardiness. “I’ll handle his sale, too,” she reassured her mother. At least I hope I will.

“You’re sure?” Marjorie started to relax, as the meds finally kicked in.

She nodded. Her mother had done so much for her over the years. It was now her turn to be the caretaker. “Just rest now.” She bent and kissed Marjorie’s temple. And then, hoping like hell it wasn’t too late to undo the damage, Eve went to make good on her vow.

* * *

“WHAT DO YOU mean, it didn’t work out?” Derek’s ex-wife said over the phone late the next afternoon. “Marjorie Loughlin is the best Realtor in Dallas!”

“I didn’t get her. I was assigned her daughter.”

Carleen paused. The sounds of their infant daughter and Carleen’s lively household could be heard in the background. “I haven’t met Eve Loughlin, but she’s supposed to be good, too.”

She was beautiful, Derek mused, that was for sure. Temperamental, too. A knock sounded at his door. Aware that his assistant had already left for the day, he said, “Can you hang on a minute?” He walked across his private office and opened the door.

On the other side was the show-stopping beauty who had sent him packing. In a long cashmere coat, vibrant blue business suit and suede heels, Eve Loughlin was the epitome of Texas elegance and style. Around five feet seven inches tall, she was slender and lithe, with great legs and even more spectacular curves. From her full breasts to her narrow waist and hips, there wasn’t an inch of her left wanting. And despite his irritation with her, his attraction didn’t end there. Her skin was fair and utterly flawless, her nose pert, her cheekbones high and sculpted. Her shoulder-length golden-brown hair was so lush and thick he wanted to sink his hands into it. Most mesmerizing of all, though, were her intelligent, wide-set amber eyes, which seemed to hide as much as they revealed.

Derek swallowed around the sudden dryness of his throat, and tore his eyes from her plump, kissable lips. No good could come of this. “Listen, Carleen, I’ve got to go.”

As always, his ex understood. “I’ll see you at five-thirty. Craig and I will have Tiffany ready to go.”

“Thanks. See you then.” Derek ended the call.

Meanwhile, Eve Loughlin waited with a patient, angelic smile.

Not about to make it easy on her, after the way she had summarily dismissed him the afternoon before, Derek lifted a brow. Waited.

Her smile only became more cordial and determined. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

If that was the case, Derek thought, she already would have left. “What brings you here?”

“I wanted to apologize for what happened yesterday.”

She looked as if she actually might be regretting her actions, if the shadows beneath her eyes—shadows that hadn’t been there the day before—were any indication. Derek’s attitude softened just a little, even as the rest of him remained wary as all get-out. “I’m listening.”

She held her red crocodile briefcase in front of her like a shield. “If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I’d like to retain your business for Loughlin Realty.”

Maybe it was the way his marriage had turned out, or the experiences he’d suffered through with women he had dated since, but he’d had enough fickle women to last him a lifetime. Regarding her skeptically, Derek lounged against his desk, his arms folded. “If that’s the case, then why did you fire me as a client in the first place?”

* * *

TIME TO GROVEL, Eve thought, setting her briefcase on the seat of the armchair beside her. Not her favorite thing, but in this case, extremely necessary if she was to make good on her promise to her mother. Eve noted the spacious office matched him well. Done in varying shades of gray, with large masculine furniture befitting a man of his physical stature, the executive suite had a beautiful view of downtown Dallas.

Gathering her courage, she looked into Derek McCabe’s vivid blue eyes. “Let’s just say it was an all-around bad day.” Bad time of year, actually. Christmas always made her feel out of sync and vaguely depressed. “I took my frustrations out on you,” she admitted, “and that was definitely not the right thing to do.” She lifted her palms apologetically. “I wasn’t brought up that way, and as a real estate agent, I certainly wasn’t trained to behave like that.”

Derek looked her up and down, then paused, his broad shoulders relaxing slightly. “I wasn’t brought up that way, either.” An awkward silence ensued, and then he slid her a long, thoughtful look. “I probably shouldn’t have kept you waiting outside your office for a good half hour while I handled other calls.”

Understanding flowed between them, as tangible as their previous frustration. Eve easily met him halfway. “Thanks for acknowledging that.”

His eyes twinkled. “So maybe we were both at fault yesterday?”

“Maybe.” And there it was, she thought as his rueful smile broadened, the legendary McCabe charm.

“Well, good.” He came forward and briefly shook her hand to seal the truce. “Then we have something in common.”

Eve’s skin tingled as they broke contact and politely stepped away from each other. He inclined his head. “So what’s next?” he murmured.

She drew a deep, bolstering breath, then took a seat in the armchair and opened her briefcase. “I’m ready to meet your demands.”

His phone chimed. He peered down at it, then set it aside. His full attention on Eve once again, he asked, “What stopped you yesterday?”

Watching him take a seat behind his desk, Eve sensed sugarcoating the situation would get her nowhere with the accomplished businessman. “I didn’t want to proceed because I felt selecting a property for you, without knowing anything about you or your specific needs, would be a disservice to us both.”

He pressed his fingertips together. “In what way?”

“If you end up purchasing a home you’re unhappy with, that dissatisfaction will eventually be heaped on Loughlin Realty. And more specifically, me.” Hesitating for a moment, Eve crossed her legs and discreetly tugged her skirt a little lower over her knees. “My reputation depends on being able to find the exact right home for my clients. If I can’t do that, I may as well not continue as an agent.”

His dark brows furrowed. “That’s why you wanted me to fill out the forms?”

Finally, they were getting somewhere! “I don’t even know how old your daughter is. Or if she lives with you full-time or part-time, or simply visits.”

“Tiffany lives with me fifty percent of the time. My ex and I share custody.”

“Do you want her to go to public or private school?”

“Probably public, if we’re in the Highland Park district, but we’re not there yet. She’s just turned one.”

What was it about this man that had Eve losing her equilibrium? Usually, she was much better at maintaining a casual, inscrutable demeanor. Blowing out a breath, she attempted to rein in her reaction. “You must be very recently divorced.”

“It was final last summer. We were separated for a year and a half before that,” he related mildly.

And his child was one now, Eve thought, doing some quick calculations.

* * *

“AREN’T YOU GOING to say it?” Derek asked, something akin to disappointment on his handsome face. He studied her bluntly. “What a terrible person I must have been to have left a pregnant wife?”

This felt like some kind of a test. Deliberately, she held his gaze. “I’m sure you had your reasons.” Her manner matter-of-fact, she continued, “In any case, it’s none of my business.”

He appeared to be mulling that over. “So when did you want to get started?” he finally said, after a long, awkward pause.

Glad he had decided to use their firm for his home search, after all, Eve smiled. “I’m available anytime.”

“Right now?”

Another test. Eve inhaled and smiled again. “Absolutely.”

Derek stood and reached for his coat, all McCabe determination once again. “Then let’s go.”

Chapter Two

“Mind if I drive?” Derek said as they walked out the door of his swanky office complex.

Whatever the client wanted. Within reason. That was the rule. “Not at all,” Eve fibbed. “Where are we going?”

“I have to pick up my daughter by five-thirty. I’ll have her until tomorrow evening.” He paused to help Eve with her coat, and then escorted her out to a late-model Jaguar SUV. He opened the passenger door, waited for her to slide in, then circled around to the driver’s side.

Impressed with his good manners—it had been a long time since she had met anyone so naturally chivalrous—Eve pulled out her notebook again. Determined to keep things strictly business, she asked, “You want to take her with us when we look?”

“Tomorrow, when we go see the house we select, yes. As for this evening, I plan to take her back to my hotel, feed and bathe her, and then put her to bed.”

Eve wasn’t sure where that left her and the business she needed to conduct.

Derek continued, “And while I do all that, we’ll have a little chat about what property would be best suited for my daughter and me.”

Eve wasn’t surprised. Most single parents were adept multitaskers. Still, she would have preferred they talk under less intimate circumstances. She wanted to know only enough about him and his life to do her job well. Anything else would be just too personal.

He turned onto Crescent Avenue. “I assume you have most of the property specs on the computer?”

Eve nodded. “Including visual tours.”

“Then we should be able to pick one.”

Derek parked in the driveway of one of the largest, most elegant properties in Highland Park. “Mind giving me a hand? There’s a lot of stuff when we switch back and forth.”

So now she was a bellboy, too. What next? A nanny? Tamping down her irritation, Eve flashed a smile. “No problem.”

This time, she managed to exit the sedan before Derek could gallantly lend a hand. If he noticed her effort to keep things on an impersonal level, he didn’t show it. Instead, he seemed distracted, almost eager, as they walked to the front door. The doorbell was answered by an attractive brunette in a silk shirt, heels and jeans. She had a pair of reading glasses perched on the end of her nose and a pen tucked into the short, sophisticated curls above her ear. Her expression was intellectual—and kind.

“Hey, stranger!” She greeted Derek with a friendly pat on the arm and a peck on his cheek. “How’s the house-hunting going?”

Derek inclined his head at Eve. “We haven’t really started yet. Carleen, this is Eve Loughlin. Eve, Carleen Walton, my ex-wife.”

The woman grinned and extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said.

They certainly were friendly, Eve noted. Maybe the most amiable exes she had ever seen. “Nice to meet you, too,” she replied.

A tall forty-something man ambled up with a baby in his arms.

“And this is Craig, my husband,” Carleen continued. “With our baby, Tiffany.”

And what a beautiful baby she was, Eve could not help but note.

The one-year-old had a cloud of dark curly hair, like her mom’s, and Derek’s vivid sea-blue eyes. She was dressed in a white turtleneck, ruffled red velvet overalls and shiny, high-topped shoes. Spying Eve, she beamed, her smile revealing four teeth, two on the bottom and two on top.

Eve had never been much of a baby person. She saw no reason to lust after something she likely would never have. But something about this little girl captivated her attention.

Still grinning, Tiffany lifted her chubby little hands to her face and spread her fingertips over her eyes. “Peek—boo!” she chirped to Eve.

Eve couldn’t help it; she chuckled. She lifted her hands to her own eyes and covered them playfully. “Peekaboo to you, too!”

Tiffany threw back her head and chortled. Without warning, she lurched out of Craig’s arms and reached for Eve.

Eve caught the infant, cuddling her close. It wasn’t the first time she had ever held a baby. However, it was the first time she’d held one and felt something catch in her heart.

“She’s a real people person,” Carleen noted proudly.

Craig agreed. “Never met a stranger...” he teased.

Tiffany settled in Eve’s arms. She had that wonderful baby-fresh scent. A smear of what looked like strawberry yogurt at the corner of her mouth. More of it on her hands.

Tiffany tilted her head to one side. She looked at Eve. “Mommy?” she asked.

“No, I’m not a momma,” Eve said.

Although for the first time in her life, she found herself wanting to be.

Behind Craig came half a dozen more kids, from toddlers to teens. One of them was holding a wet baby wipe.

“And the rest of our brood,” Craig continued. Catching Eve’s confused look, he said, “From my marriage to my late wife.”

They all certainly looked happy, Eve thought, like the ideal blended family.

Craig took the wipe and handed it to Eve as more introductions were made.

Too late. The little girl’s sticky fingers had found their way to Eve’s hair and were wrapped in the long, silky strands, transferring strawberry yogurt even as they tugged.

Tiffany giggled.

Derek jumped in. “Honey, you can’t do that,” he chided, working to free the tiny fingers.

“It’s okay,” Eve said.

And despite the stickiness, she really didn’t mind.

The close contact had given her a glimpse into the little girl’s personality. And what was there was all sweetness and innocence.

She could see why Derek was so bent on being as close to his daughter as he could. And she admired the friendship and cooperation his ex and her new family demonstrated, as Carleen put a hat and jacket on their little girl before Derek took charge of putting Tiffany into her car seat. Craig and the kids carried several large bags of clothes and toys, and a stroller, out to the car.

“I hope you can find something for Derek without too much delay,” Carleen told Eve pleasantly.

Craig nodded. “Life will be a lot easier for them when they’re in a house instead of a hotel.”

Where was the acrimony that usually existed in recently divorced couples? Eve wondered. Not that there was a residual attraction between them, either. The only love Carleen and Derek seemed to harbor for each other was the old-and-trusted-friends variety. Although why that would be a relief to Eve, she didn’t know. She was just helping Derek buy a house, not becoming part of this unorthodox situation.

Eve returned Carleen’s and Craig’s smiles. She dipped her head in acquiescence, promising, “I’ll do my very best.”

* * *

“ANYONE EVER TELL you that you have the patience of a saint?” Derek asked several hours later, as he paced the length of his two-bedroom hotel suite, his drowsy daughter in his arms.

He had shed the suit and tie shortly after they’d walked in, emerging from the bedroom in a pair of worn jeans and the same pale blue dress shirt he’d had on earlier. With the first two buttons undone, sleeves rolled to just below the elbow and the hem untucked, he looked casual and at ease. Having gotten a glimpse of the man he was in his off hours, Eve liked what she saw. It also gave her hope that she would eventually be able to connect with him on a more congenial level, and talk some sense into him when it came to looking for a place to call home.

In the meanwhile, Tiffany had resisted being tucked in, so Derek was now “walking” her to sleep. It seemed to be working, Eve noted, as she watched the little girl lay her head on his broad shoulder and slowly close her eyes.

Eve smiled as Tiffany yawned again and cuddled even closer against her daddy’s big strong frame. Eve sighed despite herself. Was there anything more compelling than watching a man tenderly care for a child?

Abruptly aware that Derek was watching her as intently as she was watching him, Eve brushed aside the fantasies he’d been engendering all evening and reassured him with a smile. “Not to worry. Adjusting my schedule to my client’s is a necessary component of my vocation.”

She hadn’t planned to be there through Tiffany’s dinner and bath, but it had given her time to get better acquainted with Derek and his daughter and intermittently ask him questions about what he wanted in a home. Which in turn gave her a better idea what properties to show him.

Noting his daughter was now sound asleep, Derek carried her into the adjacent bedroom and set her ever so gently down in her crib. He paused to cover her with a blanket, and then returned to the living room. With his dark hair attractively mussed, the hint of evening beard rimming his handsome face and his long legs emphasized by close-fitting jeans, he was the epitome of masculinity. And way too sexy for her own good, Eve reminded herself.

He plucked the bottle of sparkling water from the room service tray, filled two glasses and added ice, then handed her one. “Ready to get down to business?”

She accepted the beverage with a smile. “Let’s do it.”

She brought up the map of Highland Park on her computer. The town was three miles north of the center of Dallas, and only 2.26 square miles in size. Yet it had approximately 8,900 residents, most living in very luxurious and expensive homes. “Exactly how close do you want to be to your ex-wife’s place?”

Shrugging in response, he pulled up a chair beside her at the desk. He turned it around and sank onto it, his long limbs on either side of the seat, his arms folded over the back. After a moment of deliberation, he slanted Eve a glance. “Next door wouldn’t be bad.”

She turned toward him so abruptly her stocking-clad knee brushed his denim-clad thigh. A flicker of sensation swept through her. “Seriously?”

He lifted his shoulders in another shrug. “Just because Carleen and I are divorced doesn’t mean we can’t give Tiffany the same level of familial happiness she would have enjoyed had we stayed together.” He studied Eve over the rim of his glass. “You don’t believe that can happen?”

She paused, not sure how to answer that. “You two seem to get along great.”

Her caution made him smile and search her eyes. “And you think that’s weird.”

Eve wanted to deny it. But she sensed if she was less than honest, she would lose him as a client. She shifted so they were no longer in danger of touching, and leaned back in her seat. “I think it’s commendable.”

He waited, still studying her.

Eve gulped some water, aware she was going to have to open up even more. “And...unusual,” she said finally.

She lowered her eyes to the strong column of his throat and the tufts of springy, dark brown hair beneath his collarbone, then quickly looked back up. Clearing her throat, Eve tried for diplomacy. “I’m not married. Never have been. But from what I’ve seen, sharing custody can be really challenging.”

He lifted a brow. “You mean ugly.”

“Or just plain difficult.” She shrugged, still feeling as if she were walking through a minefield, courtesy of Derek McCabe. “Given that there are so many emotions involved in these kinds of situations...”

His gaze drifted over her face slowly, before returning to her eyes. “You’re wondering why I’m okay with my wife remarrying.”

Was she that easy to read? And why did she, a consummate professional who made a point these days to keep her personal feelings out of every business situation, really want to know? Telling herself it would help her find the right home for him if she knew more about the overall situation, she shifted a little closer. “Are you?”

He nodded, then rose and walked back to the room service table where several desserts sat untouched. He picked up a plate and gestured for her to have at it, too. “Maybe if Carleen and I had been head over heels in love, I’d feel differently.”

He’d chosen the slice of coconut cake garnished with berries. Eve picked up the crème brûlée.

He settled himself on the sofa. She selected an adjacent wingback chair and spread a napkin over her lap. “But you weren’t in love?” This was getting more interesting by the moment.

Derek exhaled, regret sharpening his handsome features. “We were really great friends from the moment we met at Harvard Business School. We both worked in the financial sector, and wanted the same things, including high-powered careers—and kids. And we figured if you were going to have a family, you should be married.”

“So you tied the knot.”

Savoring another bite of cake, he nodded. “For the first couple of years it was great. We moved back to Texas, where our families were from. We had work and each other. And then Carleen and I met Craig. One of Carleen’s coworkers, he had recently lost his wife to cancer. Needless to say, our hearts went out to him. We started helping him with his brood of kids whenever we could. But I was traveling a lot with my job then, so Carleen spent more time over there.” There was a long silence. “The experience made her really want children, so we started working on a family of our own. She had just found out she was pregnant when I walked in one day and saw the way they looked at each other.”

Eve’s heart stilled. She paused, her spoon halfway through the sugary crust on her crème brûlée. “They were having an affair?” She couldn’t fathom that, remembering the two people she’d met earlier.

Putting his empty plate aside, Derek exhaled roughly and clamped a hand to the back of his neck. “No, they were both too principled for that. But it was clear to me that Carleen was in love with Craig, the way she never had been with me.” He paused, rubbing the tense muscles.

Eve watched Derek rummage around for a coffee cup. Finding one, he filled it from the decanter on the room service tray. “You must have been devastated,” she said.

The look on his face said he had been. “I thought about ignoring it,” he confided quietly, coming back to sit on the sofa. “Just hoping and praying whatever it was they were obviously feeling would fade.”

Eve remembered that they had separated early in Carleen’s pregnancy. “But you didn’t do that.”

He shrugged and turned his eyes back to hers, a mixture of remorse and acceptance visible there. “I realized I couldn’t live a lie for the rest of my life. So I asked Carleen about it, and she finally admitted what I had already observed. That, in an ideal world, she probably would have ended up with Craig...but she was married to me, and she intended to stay married to me.”

“You disagreed?”

He gestured with a weariness that seemed to come from deep in his soul. “Pretending feelings don’t exist doesn’t mean they aren’t there. I wanted Carleen to be happy. And I knew she belonged with Craig.”

That was gallant. But... “You weren’t the least bit jealous?”

He rubbed his jaw in a rueful manner, then drawled, “Let’s just say I wanted what they were having for myself.”

That made sense, Eve thought. Everyone was entitled to the love of a lifetime. Whether or not a person ever actually achieved that was a different matter entirely.

“So, the two of us split up,” Derek continued. “I stayed involved with the pregnancy and was there for the birth. For propriety’s sake, we waited to finalize our divorce until Tiffany was six months old. A short engagement followed. And then Craig and Carleen got married in late October and relocated from Houston to Dallas—so that Carleen could have a job with greater flexibility. I made arrangements to follow suit.”

Eve studied the attractive man sitting opposite her. He really was one of the most honorable men she had ever met. But she couldn’t help but wonder if all that selflessness came with a price.

* * *

DEREK WASN’T SURE why he was talking about any of this. He certainly didn’t need to tell Eve about his broken marriage in order for her to find him a suitable home. And yet there was something about the way she looked at him, as if she wanted to understand—not just the situation, but get to know him in a way few did—that had started him talking, and kept him talking when he should have stopped.

“This is the point where you tell me I should have made the most of my ex’s foibles and fought for full custody of my kid,” he said cavalierly, wanting to see her gut reaction to his situation. To find out if she was as skeptical and disapproving as his family and friends had been. Emotional affairs, many had pointed out to him, were a lot more destructive than sex with someone outside the marriage. For that alone he was owed full custody.

Eve looked puzzled. “How would that have benefited Tiffany? She needs a mommy and a daddy, doesn’t she?”

Glad to see she wasn’t the vengeful type, Derek nodded gratefully.

“And you work full-time. And probably still travel,” Eve continued.

“Although less than I did before,” he said.

She compressed her lips, then took her last bite of crème brûlée and set the dish aside. “Having parents who rue each other’s very existence is no help to anyone, believe me.”

As interested in Eve as she apparently was in him, Derek sat back in his chair and sipped his coffee. “And you know that because...?”

She got up and poured herself a cup of coffee, too. “My father wanted nothing to do with me, not when I was a kid or after I grew up.”

Derek winced. “Wow. That’s harsh.”

Eve added cream, then sprinkled in a packet of sugar. She stirred the coffee, tasted it, then went back and sat down at the other end of the couch. “You get used to it. For a lot of years, I wished my mother and my biological father had gotten along. Then I began to accept that if they had no use for each other, it was really better that we never saw him. You, on the other hand, have managed to stay friends with your ex and her new husband. The fact you do get along can only benefit all seven of the kids involved.”

Her ready understanding boosted Derek’s morale. “So you don’t think I was a fool?”

Eve shook her head. “I think you were noble.” She flashed him an encouraging smile and continued to hold his gaze as she sipped her coffee. “No, I think you were realistic, that you did the right thing for everyone.”

Not sure when he had enjoyed a woman’s company this much, he smiled back at her. “Thanks.”

“So.” Her expression determined, Eve rose gracefully and headed to the desk where she’d set up her laptop computer. “Back to the house-hunting.”

When Derek joined her, she glanced up at him from the computer. “I don’t want to waste your time, but I really want you to look at more than one home.” Before he could object, she continued firmly, “There are three immediately available properties in your stated price range in Highland Park, within a two-mile radius of Tiffany’s other home. I’ve emailed you the specs on all three, to peruse at your leisure. Two are having unadvertised open houses tomorrow afternoon, for qualified buyers only. The other is available only by appointment. Would you like to hit all three at once tomorrow?”

Derek did—for reasons that didn’t have as much to do with house-hunting as they should. “We’ll have to take Tiffany with us,” he warned.

Eve’s expression softened in a way that let him know what a good mother she would be one day. “Shouldn’t be a problem,” she assured him confidently.

Derek watched her put her laptop back in the case. “Can we do it after her afternoon nap, say, at two-thirty?”

“Absolutely.” Eve gathered up her belongings and headed for the door.

Derek walked with her. She hesitated in the entry, and for a brief moment he was tempted to kiss her. As if sensing it, Eve drew away. “I’ll see you then,” she said briskly, before moving off down the hall.

* * *

“YOU’RE LOOKING A lot better,” Eve told her mother happily the next morning after arriving at the hospital to visit her.

Marjorie accepted with a smile the stack of magazines Eve had brought her. “How are things going with Derek McCabe?”

A little too well on the personal side, Eve thought uncomfortably. She moved a chair closer to the bed and sank into it. “We’re looking at three properties this afternoon.” Marjorie, who had every luxury listing in the area memorized, considered the plan thoughtfully as her daughter specified which ones they were seeing. “Is he going to be easy or difficult to please?”

In what way? Eve pushed the unexpectedly amorous thought aside. “It’s too soon to tell.” All she knew for certain was that Derek had an enormous capacity for giving—to the point he probably had Christmas in his heart all year long. And Eve envied him that. She had trouble getting into the holiday spirit at all.

Marjorie paused. “I know I’ve said this before, but...be careful. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Eve clasped her mom’s hand, happy that she didn’t seem as weak and fragile as she had the day before. “Believe me, I don’t want to be hurt, either.” One devastating love affair had been enough to last her a lifetime.

“You don’t need a man in your life to be happy,” her mother continued.

Oh, how well Eve knew that. She squeezed her mother’s fingers. “You don’t have to worry about it, Mom. Derek is just a client. I’m his real estate agent.” She paused to let her words sink in. “And nothing more.”

It didn’t matter how physically and emotionally attracted she was to him, she thought. At the end of the transaction, she and Derek would go their separate ways. And that would be that.

Chapter Three

“Not exactly what you had in mind, hmm?” Eve asked Derek as they left house number two and headed down the long curving stone walk to his car. It was a beautiful December day with clear blue skies, and warm enough that only light jackets were required.

Derek turned to her. He had showered and shaved before meeting her, and he smelled of sandalwood and pine. “I’ve been in nice homes before, lots of them.”

“But no open houses where free Botox injections were offered?”

He mimed a shudder and moved closer, the sunlight picking up the mahogany in his short dark hair. “I know plastic surgery and other enhancements are popular in Dallas,” he said in a low voice. “But to do it as part of an open house...”

“A bit tacky?” she asked wryly.

“You got that right.” He shifted Tiffany to his other arm while he fished for his keys.

Seeing he needed assistance, Eve held out her arms. She expected the tyke to slide into them as easily as she had the day before. Instead, Tiffany turned away and buried her face in her daddy’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Derek murmured.

“No problem,” Eve returned easily. She was about to offer to help him reach his keys, but slipping her fingers into the jeans pocket adjacent to his fly did not seem like the best idea. She turned away to survey the beautifully landscaped lawn.

With Tiffany cuddled on his shoulder, Derek fished some more. He finally got what he needed and unlocked the doors. While he put Tiffany in her car seat, Eve slid into the passenger side of the Jaguar.

Yet another anomaly in this situation.

Normally, she drove clients around.

But since Tiffany’s car seat was already in his SUV, and they were apparently a hassle to put in correctly, Derek preferred to do the driving.

He settled himself behind the wheel, grabbed his designer shades and adjusted them over his eyes. Which was a shame, Eve thought, because now she wouldn’t be able to use his gaze to intuit what he was thinking; she’d have to rely on his body language and tone of voice to try to figure him out.

Stifling a sigh, she put on her own sunglasses to guard against the glare.

Derek stretched his right arm along the back of the front seats, turned to make sure all was clear and reversed out of the drive. “As if that Botox party wasn’t weird enough...what was with the free massages at that first place?” He put the car in gear, then sat idling while Eve punched the address of their next possibility into the GPS built into the dashboard.

“It was part of the promotion for the property,” Eve explained. “A way to get qualified buyers, ones who can afford a seven-or eight-million-dollar home, out to see it.”

Derek drove off when the suggested route popped up on the screen. Shortly thereafter, he made the first turn. “The thinking being, if you actually tried out the home gym and the pool and the sport court, and then had a free massage...” He waited for a traffic jam on Mockingbird Lane to clear.

“And a catered lunch in the gourmet kitchen.” Noticing her skirt had ridden up slightly on her thigh, Eve discreetly tugged it down. “You’d be hooked.”

He shrugged. “It might work. If that was what you wanted.” The home had a billiard room and a home theater, swimming pool and crowd-sized hot tub.

“I’m guessing it was too much of a bachelor pad for your taste.” Even though it had been just down the street from his ex.

“It didn’t exactly spell family,” he agreed drily.

Eve brought out the specs she had previously sent him. She refreshed his memory with a few photos from the sales brochure while they sat at a stoplight. “You may like the next one.”

“Daddy!”

Derek glanced at his daughter via the rearview mirror. She looked ready to start fussing at any moment. “Hi, honey,” he said, turning around to smile at her briefly, before picking up the conversation where they’d left off. “I hope so,” he stated quietly. “Tiffany’s been a trouper, but she’s really tired.”

Unfortunately, the next property elicited as many frowns and scowls from both Derek and his little girl as the first two had. Luckily, there was no open house going on, so they were free to talk frankly. “What is it you don’t like about it?” Eve asked, trying to get a handle on what it was Derek truly wanted in a home.

He walked around the huge rooms.

Part of the estate of a late oil tycoon, it had been built in the early eighties, and recently staged and updated in sophisticated neutral palettes.

“Let me count the ways,” he said, placating the little girl he held in his arms with the baby bottle of apple juice he’d brought in with them. “The marble floors are way too cold and hard. The floor plan is awful, and I think the spiral staircase could be dangerous for a kid.”

Okay, Eve noted, that was a start.

She edged closer. “It’s five streets over from your ex’s home. The staircase could be replaced. And it has a nice big backyard with a fence, and room for a really nice play set.”

Finished with her juice, Tiffany pushed the empty baby bottle at Eve, then reached out and touched Eve’s hair. The little girl smiled as she got a fistful, and held on tight.

Afraid to move, Eve smiled back at her and stayed very still.

Derek came to the rescue, his touch tender as he extricated her from his daughter. Which in turn made Eve wonder what kind of lover he would be. Probably excellent, if her feminine intuition was any indication. Not that she should be thinking this way...

“It also has a pool,” he continued, while Eve put the empty bottle back in the diaper bag slung over his broad shoulder. “I don’t think I want a swimming pool with a toddler around, fenced or not. Maybe when she’s older. Not now.”

Aware that Tiffany was looking restless again, Eve rummaged in the diaper bag and found a set of plastic baby keys she could play with. “Pools can be taken out. The entire decor can be changed.”

Tiffany grinned and shook the keys in both her tiny fists until they rattled.

Derek continued glancing around. “It would still be way too big.”

As would all the properties in the seven-to eight-million-dollar range, Eve thought, since the asking price was directly related to the amount of square footage.

Trying to be helpful, she asked, “Do you want to look at something smaller?”

His jaw set in that stubborn way she was beginning to know so well. Tiffany grabbed the sunglasses tucked into the neckline of his cashmere sweater, shook them once and threw them to the floor. They landed with a clatter but, to Eve’s relief, didn’t break.

“I wanted there to be parity in our homes.” Derek set Tiffany down on the floor. Happy to be able to flex her legs, she grabbed the keys and sunglasses and toddled happily around the foyer, babbling all the while.

“Okay,” Eve said.

Derek blocked the way to the staircase, keeping an eye on his daughter while studying Eve shrewdly. “You don’t agree with that objective, though.”

There he went, putting her on the spot again. Although it wasn’t always what a client wanted, Eve decided yet again to be honest. She shrugged and knelt down to engage Tiffany with another toy the little girl had previously discarded. “Your homes are going to be different, no matter the square footage and price tag.”

Tiffany took the stuffed bunny and sat down on the floor to examine it.

Confident that the toddler was entertained, at least for the moment, Eve rose. She looked her handsome client in the eye and continued, “Carleen has a husband and seven kids, if you count Craig’s. At your place, it’s just going to be the two of you.” Eve paused to let that fact sink in, and then forged on. “Tiffany is going to feel the difference. It doesn’t mean she’ll like one place any more or any less, especially at this age. Your home should reflect who you are, what you want, Derek. Not what Carleen and Craig need and want for their brood.”

Tiffany stood and grabbed her daddy’s jean-clad legs. “So something cozier.” Derek smiled and picked her up.

His daughter nestled against his chest, as if in heaven, a reaction Eve could understand, given who Tiffany was nestling against. It had to feel great, being that close to Derek. She knew she would be happy with his big, strong arms wrapped around her.

“There are smaller homes in this area,” she told him. “Some have been redone, some not. In any case, the price tag will be quite different.” Which, Eve knew, could be a deal-breaker for a venture capitalist who also wanted a house as a monetary investment.

Derek squinted. “How different?”

“It depends on how small you want to go. Not to mention the overall condition of the property.”

Derek sighed as Tiffany grabbed his sweater with both hands and let out an impatient shout. “Bye-bye!”

He headed out the door. “Meaning we have to keep looking.”

Eve paused to lock up. “If you want to be happy with your choice, you do.”

He glanced at his watch. “I have to take Tiffany back to Carleen.”

It was almost five-thirty. “You want to call it a day, then?” Eve asked, unable to help but feel a little disappointed that their time together would soon be ending.

“Actually,” he said, as if reading her mind and feeling the same way, “I’d like to keep looking tonight.”

“Okay, then,” Eve smiled. “Let’s do it.”

* * *

“I THINK WE should stop. At least for today,” Eve said, an exhausting three hours later.

Darkness had fallen a long time ago. They had physically gone through two more homes, and driven by eight more, only to have Derek dismiss them out of hand for one reason or another.

“After a while, everything begins to blur together. We can start again tomorrow if you like.” Plus, without Tiffany as a tiny chaperone and constant distraction, Eve found herself way too physically aware of her hunky client.

The only good thing was that once they had dropped his daughter off, they’d been able to swing by the office so she could pick up her car and do the driving. While Derek concentrated on perusing the neighborhoods from the passenger seat, she tried hard not to think about how intimate it felt to have him sitting so close beside her.

“What about that one?” His mind evidently where it should be, Derek pointed to a cozy English Tudor‒style cottage with a for-sale sign in front.

Grateful for the latest diversion, Eve steered her car to the curb. Up and down the street, homes were lit up with Christmas lights. However, the one in front of them was dark and neglected. Familiar with the original 1960s interior, she warned, “It’s a fixer-upper. Nowhere near move-in ready. And way below your target price.”

Derek continued to stare at the ivy-covered brick. “I’d like to see it, anyway.”

They wouldn’t need an appointment; this property was on lockbox. She could let them in.

“Okay,” Eve said, thinking that if anything were to end his desire to keep looking, this particular property would be it. She cut the ignition and led the way up to the front porch. Inside, it was worse than she remembered from the initial agents tour: chill and dank. Bad carpeting, outdated everything.

“What’s the story on the property?” Derek asked.

She continued switching on overhead lights. “The owner has gone into a nursing home. The family isn’t interested in doing anything to the house.” Hence, it had been cleared of all belongings, but not staged or in any way adequately prepared for sale. “They’re hoping it will go as a teardown.”

He shot her a questioning look.

“Which means that someone will buy it for the lot—which is a premium—demolish this property and start from scratch,” she explained.

Derek ran a hand over a wall in the study. He shook his head admiringly at the built-in bookshelves and ornate trim. “Look at this wood.”

“Paneling’s not really popular these days.”

“I like it.”

The client was always right. And it could be stripped and refinished to give it a more updated look. “It’s very masculine.”

He pivoted and regarded her speculatively, as if wondering if she was playing him.

She wasn’t.

After a moment, he seemed to accept that.

Eve sobered. “I want you to see the kitchen, though.”

They walked down the hall to the rear of the house. Eve hit another switch. Derek blinked at the orange-yellow-and-brown-plaid vinyl wallpaper. “Talk about a blast from the past,” he murmured.

The laminate counters were also bright orange, the floor a speckled linoleum. “I know,” Eve sympathized, looking past the grime-smeared windows and severely outdated appliances. “Really awful, hmm?”

He peered at a cobweb overhead. “It could use a good cleaning, that’s for certain.”

Eve moved her foot away from something sticky on the floor. “No joke.”

Derek came closer. He stood next to her, thoughtfully looking around, his steady presence and the warmth of his tall, strong body a nice counterpoint to the lingering chill inside the home. “But with all new appliances...”

Ignoring the tingling deep inside her, along with the wish the two of them had met some other time, some other way, Eve drew a deep breath and pointed out the rest of the flaws. “It’s going to need brand-new cabinets, counters, flooring and updated lighting, too.” She turned abruptly, her shoulder bumping against his bicep. “The kitchen alone would cost you at least fifty thousand. Then there’s the furnace and air conditioning, and it will also most likely need all new electrical and plumbing.”

“How much are they asking?”

Doing her best to tamp down her continuing awareness, Eve showed him the listing information left on the kitchen counter. “One point five million, but that’s too high for the condition of this house.” She led the way up to the second floor. There were four nice-sized bedrooms and two full baths, one off the hall and one off the master bedroom.

Derek continued to look around with real interest. “What do you think it should be going for?”

Eve studied the worn carpeting and cramped, outdated bathrooms, the dingy walls and lack of adequate closet space. “One point two million, max. And that’s mostly due to the location.” She turned back to Derek, in full business mode, but found herself temporarily blinded by his brilliant blue eyes. “I’d, uh, be tempted to go in at one point one million, and then let them talk you back to one point two, as the most you would pay. Although, with your time frame, wanting to be in before Christmas, I can’t recommend you take this on.”

Derek stood, legs braced apart, hands on his waist, still looking around. “Surely you know contractors who would be willing to do whatever it took, particularly if bonus pay was involved.”

He really was serious. “I do.” Despite herself, Eve began to get excited, too.

Derek walked around some more, as if dreaming about what a good infusion of cash and a little tender loving care could do for this home. He swung back toward her. “Could you get it done in a week?”

Good heavens, the man was demanding! But all of a sudden willing to be ambitious, too, Eve straightened her spine and replied, “Maybe two, if we come to terms with the sellers right away, and you’re willing to pay time and a half for the entire job.”

He shrugged off the problem. “I’m okay with that.”

They finished looking around the bedrooms and went back downstairs. “Why this house?” she asked curiously, turning off another bank of lights.

Derek shook his head. He prowled the first floor, his expression thoughtful. “I don’t know. Something about the way it looks. Feels.” He turned to her with a grin, certain now. “I want to put an offer in tonight.”

Eve studied him. She hated snap decisions when it came to something this important. “You’re sure this is what you want?” she asked finally.

Derek nodded.

The light in his eyes, his sheer enthusiasm, were irresistible. Okay, then. They went back to her office again.

Eve called the other Realtor to let her know an offer was coming in, and then wrote up the contract. She had barely faxed it over when her cell phone rang. Derek’s offer, to take the house as is, without inspection, had been accepted.

He grinned. “Looks like I just bought myself a house!” he said, wrapping Eve in a warm, Texas-style hug. It was the kind of embrace people gave each other after the winning goal in a football game. Yet the brief expression of exaltation left her tingling and on edge long after they broke apart.

Eve congratulated Derek again, more formally this time, and then bid him good-night. It was a good thing her business with Derek McCabe was almost over. She was going to have a hard enough time forgetting the powerful attraction she felt for him as it was.

* * *

EVE WAS STILL thinking about the congratulatory hug from Derek—and her unprecedented reaction to it—when she went to the hospital the next morning to help with her mother’s transfer.

As expected, even though the facility was bright and cheerful, Marjorie was less than enthusiastic about her upcoming stay in the cardiac rehab unit.

“I’d rather just go home,” she grumbled, accepting the bag of comfortable clothing Eve had brought her.

Aware of the irony in taking on the parental role in their relationship, Eve handed over her mother’s computer tablet and the weekend newspapers. “This is a necessary part of your recovery, Mom.” Although she doubted her mother would change anything about her life without putting up a heck of a fight.

Marjorie made a face and removed the real estate inserts from both papers. “Have you found Derek McCabe a house yet?”

Grateful for the change of subject, Eve gave her the details.

Her mom blinked. “I thought he was in the market for an eight-million-dollar home!”

Eve knew a transaction of that magnitude would have likely given them a solid lead in the annual sales race. Refusing to feel guilty for doing what was right for her client, however, she explained, “He decided he wanted something much smaller in scope and more baby-friendly. The good news is he’s very happy.”

Or at least he had been the night before. Eve still had the feeling it was all happening a little too fast for comfort.

Her sense of foreboding increased the next day.

She had been given permission to get contractors in to look at the property in advance of the closing, and she went to the house to let them in. By the time they’d finished, Derek had arrived. The kitchen and bath designer, plumber, electrician, flooring rep and painters all conferred with him, and promised to have formal estimates for him the following morning.

Bad news relayed, they filed out, one by one.

Leaving Derek and Eve alone.

“So what do you think?” she asked, looking around at the empty house. The heating and ventilation system was out of commission, so the interior was chilly and dank. A light rain was falling, and on this gloomy December day the house seemed even more in need of tender loving care. “Feel overwhelmed yet?”

Derek shook his head. “Excited.”

Glad to see he hadn’t changed his mind about his spur-of-the-moment decision, because deep down she sensed that this was indeed the perfect home for him, she allowed herself to tease, “And here you thought you weren’t the fixer-upper type.”

He gave her a leisurely once-over. “Sometimes it’s necessary to get business out of the way. So you can move on to more important things.”

Puzzled, Eve tilted her head. “Like what?”

The look he gave her was direct, uncompromising, confident. “Asking you out.”

For a second, she was certain she hadn’t heard right. The sparkle in his eyes told her that she had. Her pulse pounding, Eve worked to get air into her lungs. “On a date?” she asked hoarsely.

His sexy smile widening, he inched closer. “That was the general idea,” he said.

Eve pressed her palm to her chest, trying to tamp down the immediate spark of excitement she felt. “I’m flattered.”

Derek sobered. “I don’t want you to be flattered,” he told her huskily. He took her in his arms and pulled her flush against him. “I want you to say yes.”

Chapter Four

Yes was what Eve wanted, too. Even if she would have preferred not to admit it. Before she could stop herself, before she could think of all the reasons why not, she let Derek pull her closer still. His head dipped. Her breath caught, and her eyes closed. And then all was lost in the first luscious feeling of his lips lightly pressed against hers.

It was a cautious kiss. A gentle kiss that didn’t stay gallant for long. At her first quiver of sensation, he flattened his hands over her spine and deepened the kiss, seducing her with the heat of his mouth and the sheer masculinity of his tall, strong body. Yearning swept through her in great enervating waves. Unable to help herself, Eve went up on tiptoe, leaning into his embrace. Throwing caution to the wind, she wreathed her arms about his neck and kissed him back. Not tentatively, not sweetly, but with all the hunger and need she felt. And to her wonder and delight, he kissed her back in kind, again and again and again.

Derek had only meant to show Eve they had chemistry. Amazing chemistry that would convince her to go out with him, at least once. He hadn’t expected to feel tenderness well inside him, even as his body went hard with desire. He hadn’t expected to want to make love to her here and now, in this empty house. But sensing that total surrender would be a mistake, he tamped down his own desire and let the kiss come to a slow, gradual end.

Eve stepped backward, too, a mixture of surprise and pleasure on her face. Her breasts were rising and falling quickly, and her lips were moist. Amazement at the potency of their attraction, and something else a lot more cautious, appeared in her eyes. Eve drew a breath, and then anger flashed. “That was a mistake.”

Derek understood her need to play down what had just happened, even as he saw no reason to pretend they hadn’t enjoyed themselves immensely. “Not in my book,” he murmured, still feeling a little off balance himself. In fact, he was ready for a whole lot more.

She held up a finger and shook it. Composed again, she stalked away from him, her high heels echoing on the wood floor. When she swung around to face him, he could tell her every defense was in place. “What you’re feeling right now is all related to the roller-coaster emotions of buying a new home. One minute you’re up, the next you’re down. The euphoria you just felt is going to be very short-lived.”

Like hell it was! He was adult enough to know the difference between being excited about purchasing a home, and wanting to make a woman his. And so was she. He rocked back on his heels, braced his hands on his waist and sent her an impudent grin. “You’re telling me you’ve been kissed by clients at the end of a deal before?”

“Yes,” Eve said. She looked him in the eye, long and hard. “I have.”

* * *

HER MATTER-OF-FACT confession had served its purpose. First, Derek looked shell-shocked, then skeptical, and finally, as she had hoped, blatantly unhappy. He stepped closer, as if that would change anything. “You’re kidding,” he exclaimed in a low, raspy voice that practically oozed testosterone.

Eve struggled not to get swept up in the moment or the man, as embarrassment warmed her cheeks. “I wish.”

He shifted forward, invading her space. “How many times?”

With effort, she kept her gaze locked with his. Determined to handle a situation that was fast escalating out of control, she replied, “Including you?”

He nodded.

“Twice.”

Derek looked at her as if he already knew what it would be like to make love to her. “There must be more to the story,” he said.

Since the last thing she needed to be doing was thinking about kissing him again, or worse, imagining what it would be like to make love with him, Eve lifted her chin and drew a deep, calming breath. Refusing to fixate on the fact that everywhere he was hard, she would be soft, or that everywhere he was male, she’d be female, she challenged, “Really. What makes you think that?”

Regarding her with a devil-may-care glint in his eyes, he pointed out, “You’re not the kind of woman who lets her guard down easily.”

That was certainly true. Although she wished he had not intuited the fact.

“So what happened, the other time?” Derek continued, a tad impatiently.

Eve shrugged and kept her voice matter-of-fact. “I was fresh out of real estate school. Ryan was a classmate of mine, from Southern Methodist University. He had just come into his trust fund and wanted to buy a bachelor pad in Deep Elum. It wasn’t my area of expertise, but the commission was going to be great if I could find what he wanted. Ryan, of course, had no idea what that was, so we had to do quite a lot of looking together.” Eve paused, recalling how naive and hopelessly romantic she had been at the time.

Working to keep the disillusionment out of her tone, she admitted, “One thing led to another, and by the time Ryan closed on his new loft, it was clear there was something between us. Or so we thought.”

The chivalrous, protective look was back in Derek’s eyes. “What happened?” he prodded.

“Exactly what you would think,” Eve stated, with a cavalier attitude she couldn’t begin to really feel. My heart was broken and my spirits were crushed. “Ryan and I came to the mutual conclusion that it had all happened too fast. We didn’t have nearly as much in common as we’d thought, so we ended it. And,” Eve continued, without the slightest bit of irony, “I learned a valuable lesson.”

Derek regarded her gently. “Which was?”

She appreciated his understanding, even as she forced herself to take another step away from him. “I’ll never again make the mistake of thinking the intimacy that develops during a home search will continue once a residence is found.” She splayed a hand across her chest again. “I’m a Realtor. You’re my client.” She paused to let her words sink in. “And that is all.”

She tensed as the first notes of the country ballad “Need You Now” emanated from her cell phone: Loughlin Realty’s emergency ring. “Excuse me.” Eve plucked her phone out of her bag and stalked off. “I’ve got to get this.”

Sasha, the office manager, was on the other end.

Eve listened, hardly able to believe what was being said about her mother. “She what?” Her heart sank. “No! My God, no!” Then she commanded quickly, “Don’t do that. Tell her I’ll be right there! Yes, I’m five minutes away, max. Just hold her off, Sasha. Please.”

Almost as distraught as she’d been the day of her mother’s heart attack, Eve ended the call and grabbed her carryall.

“Everything okay?” Derek followed her, obviously concerned.

Aware she’d already been way too intimate with him, she kept him at arm’s length. “I’ve got an emergency back at the office,” she told him calmly. “You can stay as long as you like. Just lock up before you go, and return the key to the office.”

“You’re sure everything is okay?”

It wasn’t, but what could she say besides the obvious? “I’m sorry, Derek, I’ve got to go.”

Giving him no further chance to question her, Eve rushed out the door.

* * *

THE HOUSE WAS oddly silent and gloomy after Eve’s abrupt departure. Not certain what had happened, but accepting her implication that it was none of his business, Derek walked around, switching off lights and making sure all the doors were locked. He had almost finished the task when he saw Eve’s red-leather-bound iPad sitting on the counter next to the various contractor estimates. She’d left it behind in her haste to get out the door.

He glanced at his watch and saw it was five-thirty. More than likely someone would still be at the office. And he had to return the key in any case.

He finished locking up, got in his car and drove over there. There were two cars in the lot, one of them Eve’s white Mercedes sedan. A taxi was just pulling away. Inside the building, Sasha, the office manager, was in the reception area. The mid-thirtyish woman was as eclectically dressed as always, in a vivid handkerchief hem dress and lace-up high-heeled boots. Face pale, tight platinum curls standing on end, she was pacing and wringing her hands.

In Marjorie Loughlin’s private office, voices rose.

“Mom, you can’t do this!” Eve was insisting emotionally. “You know what the doctor said.”

The well-coiffed woman beside her retorted, “I have a client I’ve been wooing for months coming in later this week.”

“I know that, Mom,” Eve replied in a soul-weary voice Derek had never heard her use before.

Eve’s mother bulldozed on, pacing the office in much the same way Derek had seen Eve do. “And someone has to talk some sense into Flash Lefleur and get his condo adequately staged. Otherwise, who knows if and when his place will ever sell? And with only two weeks left on the listing contract!” Marjorie threw up her bejeweled hands. “I really don’t want to let that one go, Eve.”

“I told you I would take care of that, too,” her daughter said plaintively.

“I want to believe you, honey. But...with all we have at stake here. Especially after what happened with the other sale...” The older woman’s voice trailed off when she saw Derek standing in the doorway.

It was hard to figure out who looked worse, Derek thought. Marjorie Loughlin was pale to the point of being gray, and a little physically shaky to boot. Eve looked anxious and distressed.

“May I help you?” the older woman asked, suddenly all genteel Southern charm.

Eve jumped in to make introductions. “Mom, this is Derek McCabe. Derek, my mother, Marjorie Loughlin. I don’t think the two of you met when you came in the other day.”

They hadn’t, Derek realized.

Marjorie came forward to shake his hand. “Mr. McCabe, what a pleasure to meet you! Eve tells me you went to contract on a house.”

Not really surprised by the zero-to-sixty change in attitude and demeanor—salespeople were legendary for their ability to morph into what was required—he nodded and returned her energetic smile. “I did. Your daughter was amazing, by the way.”

“That’s always good to hear,” Marjorie replied, a bead of perspiration appearing on her elegant brow.

After a tense look at her mother, Eve stepped forward in turn. “What can we help you with?” she asked in a pleasant but businesslike tone.

He lifted the iPad in its red leather case, glad his presence had stopped the familial quarreling, at least momentarily. “You left this at the house.”

Eve slanted a glance at her mother, who seemed to be swaying slightly. “Thank you for bringing it.”

Before her daughter could get to her, Marjorie eased into the chair behind her impressive glass-and-chrome desk.

Noticing the way she was trembling, Eve turned paler, too. And it was easy to see why she was worried, Derek thought. Marjorie seemed near physical collapse, though she was trying her best to hide it. “Mrs. Loughlin, are you feeling all right?” he asked with concern.

“I don’t see how Marjorie could be, since she just got out of the hospital,” Sasha cried, obviously near tears.

“And she’s supposed to be in the cardiac rehabilitation unit as we speak,” Eve added pointedly.

Although she was ghostly white, and shaking visibly, Marjorie glared at her daughter and the stressed-out office manager. “I don’t need it.”

Eve glowered back, seeming to forget for a moment they had an audience. “That’s not what I heard, Mom. I just spoke to your cardiologist, and Dr. Jackson said you checked yourself out against medical advice!”

Another dot of perspiration appeared on Marjorie’s forehead, but she wiped it away. “I told the cardiac rehab staff I’d go when my schedule clears up. Right now—” she squared her shoulders and turned to the stack of messages on her desk “—there is work to be done here.”

Eve paced, looking ready to explode. “Work the four other employees of the agency can handle.”

Once again, Derek stepped in as peacemaker. “How long were you supposed to be at the rehab center?” he asked.

Marjorie shrugged and didn’t answer.

“Four weeks,” Eve said. “Then she’s to continue her physical therapy on an outpatient basis and recuperate at home, until Dr. Jackson gives her the all-clear to return to work, which will probably be not until well after the Christmas holidays.”

Derek had been through something similar with his own mother, when pneumonia precluded Josie’s return to work. He poured Marjorie a glass of sparkling water and took it to her. Knowing it was sometimes easier to listen to a neutral third party than a family member, he said gently, “That’s not too much to ask, is it? To follow medical advice, if for no other reason than to prevent any more issues with your heart?”

The older woman hesitated, but still did not give in.

Eve came and knelt down beside Marjorie, clasping her hands. “Come on, Mom. It is the season of giving, after all. And the only gift I want from you...is for you to be well.” Still gazing up at her mother, she released a deep, quivering breath. And then burst into tears.

* * *

“THANK YOU SO much for all you did this evening,” Eve told Derek two hours later, when they finally got back to the office. She glanced across the car at him as he pulled into the parking lot, then paused, her shoulder bag on her lap. “If you hadn’t been here, using all your McCabe charm, I don’t know if I would have been able to get my mother back to the cardiac rehabilitation center at all.”

With the motor still idling, Derek reached across the leather console and took her hand in his. “The important thing is she went, and agreed to stay the duration, providing you take care of everything else. But my question is...” Derek paused, his warm palm still engulfing hers “...who’s taking care of you?”

Eve caught her breath. Once again, her time with him was not going according to script. “What do you mean?”

“Did you even eat dinner last night?”

Eve didn’t know how he could look so cool, calm and collected, when she felt so frazzled. “I...” She paused in turn, unable to remember when she’d eaten last. Warming to his slow, sexy smile, she had to admit reluctantly, “Maybe not.”

As if they had all the time in the world to spend together, he continued his tender inquiry. “Breakfast this morning?”

Aware it had been forever since someone had taken care of her, she flushed, and pushed aside the memory of his kiss. “Toast.”

He gave her a long, steady look. “Lunch?”

Eve fought back a second wave of heat. “A salad.”

“Then you definitely need a solid meal this evening.”

Trying not to think about how good it would feel to have a man like Derek looking after her, Eve folded her arms and retorted, “Since when did you become my personal nutritionist?”

He lifted his wide shoulders and she caught a whiff of his sandalwood-and-pine cologne. “Think of it as me returning all the favors you’ve done me the past few days.”

Eve swallowed around the sudden tightness of her throat. “That was my job.”

Triumph radiated in his smile. “And at the moment, being a gentleman is mine. Come on.” He leaned toward her. “You know a good meal will not just fuel your body, but enable you to care for your mother and work a whole lot more efficiently to boot.”

Unable to dispute all that he was saying, Eve lifted her hands in surrender. “Okay, I’ll go.” She held his gaze resolutely. “So long as we’re both clear this is absolutely not a date.”

Derek appeared affronted. “Of course not.” His eyes twinkled. “It’s just me saying thank-you to my most excellent Realtor.”

Considering the size of the commission she was going to reap from the sale, Eve was the one expressing gratitude. “No. I am taking you out, as a thank-you.”

His lips quirking with amusement, Derek put the Jaguar in reverse. “We’ll fight over the check at dinner.”

“No, we won’t,” Eve said calmly. “Because I’m buying.”

It was, she knew, the best way to set an all-business tone for the evening. And prevent another kiss, or any emotional closeness from materializing again.

* * *

UNFORTUNATELY, THE RESTAURANT Derek chose felt anything but businesslike. It was dark and romantic, with deep leather booths that afforded maximum privacy. Adding to the winter wonderland atmosphere were abundant Christmas decorations and soothing holiday music playing in the background. Not to mention the sense that, despite her insistence to the contrary, this was in fact their first real date.

“So I take it you have no siblings,” Derek said once the butternut bisque had been served.

Telling herself there could be no harm in getting acquainted in a friendly way—doing so might even eventually lead to more clients, upon his recommendation—Eve drew her spoon through the Granny Smith apple garnish. “No, it’s always been just me and my mom.”

He regarded her with interest. “Your mom never married?”

Trying not to feel a thrill at being with him in such an intimate setting, Eve shook her head and continued holding his gaze. “She never really even dated. The situation with my father turned her away from that. Although she insists it was really the best thing for her.”

Derek poured them both a little more wine, an inscrutable expression on his face. “Do you agree with that assumption?”

Eve shrugged, not sure. “The please-go-away-and-never-darken-my-doorstep-again check my blue-blooded father gave her enabled her to get a foothold here and launch what has been a very satisfying career for her.”

From the look of admiration he sent her way, Derek seemed to understand what a feat that had been for Marjorie, who’d come from nothing herself. “Does she want the same kind of life for you?”

“You mean single, high-powered career woman?” Workaholic? Eve added silently.

He nodded.

Good question. She finished her soup and moved the dish aside, giving his inquiry the serious consideration it deserved. “Well, she wants me to be able to support myself. She’d like it if I took over the business when she’s gone.”

Derek’s gaze roved Eve’s face, hair and lips, before returning ever so slowly to her eyes. “You don’t see your mom stepping down?”

Tingling everywhere his gaze had landed, as well as everywhere it hadn’t, Eve shook her head facetiously. “Not as long as there’s breath in her body.”

He chuckled. “Having met your mom, I totally understand. Mine is the same way.”

They leaned back as their soup dishes were cleared and plates of vinaigrette-dressed field greens peppered with pecans and cranberries were set in front of them.

Derek regarded Eve curiously. “What about you? Do you want to have more of a personal life?” He waggled his brows comically. “Are you dating anyone?”

His exaggerated interest had her rolling her eyes. “Checking to see if there’s any competition?”

“Something like that,” he said smoothly.

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