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  “I’m not moving an inch until you do some explaining, Mama.”

  Her mother looked exasperated. She glanced at Adam before returning her attention to Eva. “Okay, okay, so I told a little white lie to get you down here. Is that so bad? You’re here now, aren’t you? And your father’s not sick. Of that you should at least be glad.”

  “I am, Mama, but that’s not the point.”

  “No, it isn’t, is it?” Katina Mavros’s sly smile made Eva even more uncomfortable with the game she was playing. “Now go on. I’m sure your husband would like to clean up after that long drive.” Eva didn’t budge. “Go on, go on. We’ll talk later.”

  Katina smiled at Adam and he returned the gesture. Eva’s gaze riveted on his mouth. Wide and generous and altogether too appealing. She’d caught a glimpse of that same smile when he’d turned it on Alice at work. But she’d been sure she was imagining things. Nerds weren’t nerds only when they wanted to be. Still, that thought didn’t stop her from finding him somehow rakishly handsome when he smiled.

  He turned to her and Eva felt something warm burst through her. Then the smile disappeared and he pushed up his glasses. The ones with the duct tape still holding the earpiece in place.

  Suddenly, her mother’s words finally registered. “Everyone? What do you mean everyone?”

  Katina ushered her toward the steps. “You go upstairs. Adam can wash up downstairs.”

  “Mama,” Eva warned.

  “Well, go on. I swear, sometimes you can be as stubborn as your father.”

  Eva met Adam’s gaze and he nodded toward the stairs, indicating she should go. She experienced a major attack of guilt for getting him into this mess. For Pete’s sake, she was beginning to regret getting herself into it. But Adam appeared to be anything but a flailing fish out of water. She pushed her hair back from her face. In fact, if she didn’t know better, she’d think her parents’ actions had amused him.

  She gave herself a mental shake. That’s ridiculous. He’s probably just in shock, that’s all. At her mother’s urging, she turned toward the stairs. That’s it. Adam Gardner is so surprised he doesn’t know how to react. But even as she hurried upstairs, she couldn’t help thinking Adam had looked too calm. Too in control. He hadn’t even blinked when her father had refused to shake his hand. He’d merely dropped his arm, his smile in place.

  Few people could do that with style.

  In the upstairs bathroom, Eva splashed her face with cold water. Just being in the large, five-bedroom, two-story home filled to the brim with Greek keepsakes and fishing memorabilia made her wish she lived nearby. She missed everyone terribly. An emotion all too easy to push aside in Jersey, but impossible to deny here. Despite everything, her roots were firmly planted in the damp, rich Louisiana soil. She’d even missed the sultry air that added a touch of thick expectation…suspense. As if there was no way something exciting couldn’t happen in its own sweet time. That all she had to do was sit back and patiently wait for it. The way it felt in Jersey when a thunderstorm was brewing.

  Curiously the comparison made her think of Adam. She vividly remembered how he’d looked in Virginia at the rest area, without his glasses, his hair mussed and sexy, his body hard and lean under her hands. The combination had caused a deep rumble within her—a rumble she could easily compare to distant thunder.

  Abruptly, she pushed away the curiously provocative thought. Instead, she considered her options now that she knew her mother had tricked her into coming home.

  She could leave. Since her father wasn’t ill, she could grab Adam by the front of his geeky shirt, make some excuse about having a work emergency in Jersey and offer her farewells. She grimaced. What emergency could possibly exist in the life of an accountant? If one of her clients found themselves in any kind of trouble before or on Labor Day, they would call their lawyers, not her.

  She was stuck. At least for tonight. Besides, she didn’t think she could survive another twenty-hour drive without some major sleep first anyway. Tomorrow, however, offered all sorts of opportunities to come up with an excuse to get back on the road. Besides, she’d promised Adam that they would spend no more than a day here. Surely he would balk if they stayed longer.

  She gave her dark hair a final check, then smoothed her dress, making sure there wasn’t a single thing out of place. She hadn’t come to face her father’s scrutiny. No. She was here to put Adam—her “husband”—in that particular spotlight.

  She stepped into the hall and hesitated at the top of the stairs. The sound of gregarious voices and laughter drifted up to her. The “everyone” her mother mentioned earlier must mean the entire Mavros family. And dinner wasn’t going to be a quiet affair, but a celebration of sorts to welcome back the prodigal daughter and her husband.

  Husband.

  Oh God, she’d left Adam to fend for himself. At this point, he was probably ready to rush for the door. Eva started down the steps, wishing she didn’t feel as if she wanted to lead the way.

  “STEEN EYIA SAS. That means to your and Eva’s health.” Eva’s cousin offered the Greek toast, sweeping up his flat-bottomed wineglass. Adam briefly met Eva’s gaze, then followed suit. She watched him toss back the inch-deep liquid with barely a grimace. She, on the other hand, had never gotten used to the piney essence of retsina. Her dislike of the wine was the perfect excuse to refuse more than an obligatory glass.

  Her gaze drifted to where her father sat as always at the head of the heavy oak table in the dining room. He was slightly angled away from her, his food untouched, his meaty fingers tight around his wineglass though he had yet to drink any.

  “Eat, eat,” her grandmother said, nudging Eva’s arm where she sat next to her.

  Eva stared at her own barely touched food, knowing that she should try to eat. She took a nibble, then ignored the food on her plate, and the vast array of Greek and Creole food alike covering every inch of the tabletop.

  This was not going the way she’d planned.

  Across the people-packed table Adam sat between her cousin and her uncle. And there had yet to be one prolonged, uncomfortable silence. Unless, of course, you were paying attention to her side of the table—that included her, her grandmother, her aunt and her unusually quiet brother, Pete—which no one was. Aside from some genuine interest in playing catch-up with her family, Eva found her gaze drawn time and again to the man across the table from her. The gel in Adam’s hair had dried somewhat and a lock the color of a golden marsh reed fell across his forehead, covering the gray duct tape. While the glasses were bulky and ghastly, behind them she started to notice things she wasn’t particularly sure she wanted to. Like the way his brown eyes sometimes held her gaze, a glimmer of unspoken challenge and wry humor giving him an aura of, well, sexuality.

  Tilting her head, she rubbed her neck, suddenly hotter than she could blame on the high temperature and even higher humidity. Neither of which the whirling ceiling fan could ease. Her mother made another trip in from the kitchen, plunking down a large plate of steaming tiropitas—feta cheese pastries—directly in front of her.

  “Eat, ayapee mou. I made them just the way you always like them,” she said, stopping to squeeze Eva’s shoulder, then passing to take her seat next to Tolly.

  Distantly, Eva heard her father make that low-pitched hmmph. But she was too busy staring in horror at the mini-mountain of tiropitas to give his disapproval much notice. She was desperately trying to find a way to keep from seeing the Greek pastries she had always loved as a mound of raw dough that would sit like lead in her stomach. Her muscles clenched and her mouth gushed with saliva. Correction: the raw dough wouldn’t sit like lead in her stomach…it would be the catalyst to chasing everything else out.

  Oh, God.

  “Excuse me.” Eva pushed her chair back, nearly knocking it over as she rushed for the downstairs bathroom.

  Long minutes later, she leaned against the sink, pressing a cool, damp washcloth against her burning face.

  Asoft knock s
ounded against the wood. Eva sighed. All she needed was her mother asking probing questions.

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” she called with false cheer.

  Fussing with her dress, she took a deep breath, then yanked the door open, a smile fixed on her face. Only it wasn’t her mother she faced.

  “Adam.”

  His small, concerned smile inexplicably irritated her. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Suddenly the hall seemed somehow darker than she remembered, and far more quiet. She heard herself swallowing. Her mother really should put in a hall light.

  “I thought you were my mother.” She tried to examine him more closely. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “I thought going after you would be, you know, the husbandly thing to do.”

  “Not if you were anything like my ex.” She took another deep breath. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. I…” She hesitated, directing her gaze everywhere but at his face. Which was difficult, seeing as the shaft of light from the bathroom dimly illuminated only him.

  Why was he so tall? And why, suddenly, did she feel so…breathless near him?

  “What happened back there?” he asked quietly, seeming far too close and smelling far too male. “Did you and something you ate do battle?”

  Her gaze was drawn to his features. The indirect light deepened the shadows there, drawing out his cheekbones. Making the cleft in his chin seem even more attractive then ever. Something her grandmother used to say came rushing back. Dimple in the chin, the devil within.

  She shifted her weight and dropped her gaze to his chest.

  “I didn’t eat anything,” she said, stiffening.

  “I noticed.”

  Eva frowned and eyed the man before her. The sound of the voices in the other room reminded her that neither of them were there to discuss her appetite, or lack thereof.

  “Actually, Adam,” she said, suddenly clear on what she needed to do. “Everything is not fine. You—” she jabbed her finger against his chest, surprised to find an enticing wall of muscle met her poke “—you are not fine. I’m not fine. In fact, no one here is fine.”

  She stared at the way his hair fell over his forehead.

  “I…I don’t understand,” he said, pushing up his glasses.

  “That’s it! Why didn’t you do more of that in there?” She pointed to his glasses. “Why didn’t you act more like…like…”

  She ran out of steam as she remembered a piece of their conversation in her office only yesterday.

  “What, Eva?” His voice was way too low, almost seductive. “Like a geek?” His gaze dropped to her mouth. She turned her head, her pulse doing double duty. “Is that what you were about to say?”

  Footsteps sounded in the adjacent hall and Eva’s gaze fastened on Adam.

  “Listen to me as I map this out for you, Adam. We’re going to go back into that room, sit down, and in about five minutes I’m going to say I’m tired. That’s when you’re going to say you’re tired, too. Then,” she said, moving her head within inches of his. A bad idea when she felt his hot, wine-sweetened breath fan her cheeks. “Then we’re going to go up to my room where we need to have a long talk.”

  “Talk? In your room?” His gaze dropped to her mouth.

  “Uh-huh. Do you think you can remember that or do you want me to repeat it?”

  Eva swallowed, wondering why Adam looked about ready to kiss her…and why she found the thought so very appealing.

  AN HOUR LATER, exhausted and exasperated, Eva led the way upstairs, Adam following her. At least a dozen times she’d risen from the dinner table and announced she was tired. And a dozen more times, her plan had been thwarted—if not by Adam who had looked at her blankly, then by her family, who expected her to spend the whole night celebrating with them.

  In fact, they would likely continue without her and Adam. All except for her father who had been noticeably absent when they returned to the table earlier.

  “I’m sorry,” Adam said behind her for the fourth time since she’d practically hauled him from the dining room.

  “It’s okay,” she answered again.

  It must be the wine, Eva reasoned. The wine had short-circuited Adam Gardner’s geek system. Turned him temporarily into a cohort in crime, conspiring against her every time she tried to get him to leave the table. Of course, it didn’t take much to fall victim to the good-natured persuasiveness of her cousins. Eva allowed a fond smile. Still, for all the wine Adam had drunk, she’d think he’d at least be staggering. He wasn’t.

  Was Adam-the-nerd really Adam-the-lush?

  She tossed a glance over her shoulder. No. Adam Gardner didn’t strike her as the type to overly indulge in anything. Her gaze dropped to where he had undone the top two buttons of his shirt a little while ago. Her stomach muscles tightened as she remembered the way she had gaped at him. Recalled how he had captured her gaze and his lean fingers had frozen on the second button. As if her watching him unbutton his shirt was an intimacy he allowed few.

  “We’re in my old bedroom at the far end of the hall,” she said softly. Given the direction her thoughts had been taking, the topic of bedrooms of any sort was a dangerous one. “It has its own bathroom that connects with the guest bedroom next door. But just in case, this is the other bathroom.” She gestured toward the door to her right.

  “Shouldn’t we turn on the light or something? In case I need to find it in the middle of the, uh, night?” He reached in through the open doorway and flicked the light on.

  Eva reached in and shut it back off. “I don’t think you’ll need it. I don’t plan to sleep in the adjoining bathroom.”

  “Yeah, but maybe I should let you have that one. You know, in case you need it in a hurry.” He turned the light on again.

  Eva’s cheeks burned, finding him much too close to her backside for comfort. Despite the moist Louisiana heat, or maybe because of it, she could feel Adam’s own brand of warmth emanating off him in waves. It penetrated the thin material of her dress, making more than her stomach tighten.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. “If you should happen to be in the bathroom when I need it, I can find this one. Unless, of course, you think you’ll need it fast?” She shut the light off again.

  “Me? Why would I…oh.”

  Eva slowly maneuvered to put herself at a safe distance, and with one well-directed glance, caught him up short.

  “I’ve never gotten sick after drinking. I’m much too careful,” he told her, but turned the light on again anyway.

  “Yes, but I’d bet you’ve never had so much to drink before either.”

  “Actually…” His expression slowly shifted. “Yes, I guess you’re right. I’m not much of a…partying person.”

  Partying person? Slowly, Eva switched the light back off. “Come on, before I forget what it is I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “Yes. Talk. I almost forgot.”

  Just like you forgot you were supposed to back me up when I wanted to leave the dining room, she thought. And just like being around you, for some inexplicable reason, makes me forget that I don’t need a man.

  At the end of the hall, Eva opened the door and threw on the light switch. She stopped dead in the doorway. Adam bumped into her from behind. The heat she’d felt coming from him before was nothing compared to the tangible touch of his body now.

  A fiery jolt spread outward from the spots where he touched her; his rock-hard thighs against the backs of her legs, his wide chest against her back; the clear outline of his manhood grazing her bottom. She shivered, the searing sensation staying even when he moved slowly away.

  Then her gaze riveted to the double bed in the middle of the room. An antique, wrought-iron canopy bed with double thick mattresses she feared she’d need a stepladder to reach.

  One bed.

  “We’re in the wrong room,” she whispered. Where were the two twin beds she’d always had? The extra bed s
he’d used when friends or cousins slept over? When Yaya gave up her room to visitors and slept in hers?

  “Wrong room?” Adam skirted past her and went to stand in front of a bulletin board crammed with keepsakes. He fingered a faded pom-pom, an eyebrow rising above his glasses as he looked at her.

  “Uh, Eva?”

  Distantly, she noticed Adam was using the Greek pronunciation of her name. Her attention slowly shifted to him.

  “I thought there was supposed to be twin beds,” he said.

  For the life of her, Eva couldn’t help laughing. She forgot she didn’t want him to pronounce her name that way. Gone was the tension she felt downstairs. Pushed even farther back was the memory of her mother practically hovering over her, catering to her every whim after she’d gotten sick. All she could concentrate on was the way Adam’s forehead creased, and how he pulled at his open collar as if it were choking him.

  “There used to be two twin beds,” she said carefully.

  “Then why does that,” he said, pointing to the ornate bed that looked as if it belonged in one of the bordellos of New Orleans, “look like one bed?”

  “Probably because it is, Adam.” Eva peeked out the open door, then quietly closed it. For good measure, she switched on the ceiling fan, though she doubted it would do much for either the sweltering temperature in the room, or the restless heat building in her. Why couldn’t her father budge from his old ways and get central air? She glanced back at Adam. Here she had been nervous when she first spotted the bed. Her reaction was nothing compared to the horrified expression on Adam’s face.

  She shrugged, wishing she could hold on to those light feelings, but the truth was, she was as concerned about sharing a bed as he was. Especially that bed. “I, uh, guess you’re just going to have to sleep on the floor, Adam. I know that wasn’t part of the bargain, but…”

  Eva crossed the room to where someone had brought their luggage in. She evaded his gaze. Why was the tamest, safest man she knew turning out to be not so safe after all?

  “I can’t.”

  Frowning, she turned toward him. “You can’t?”