The Surprise of Her Life. Helen Myers R.

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