“Last night?” her father asked in an ominous voice, as if he’d just gotten the implication of all that Ethan had been saying.

Ethan shrugged. “We’re working together, Whit. Don’t get in the way.”

“She’s my daughter.”

“And you assigned her to my case. Live with it.”

The outer office door opened and Bennett Vincent walked in, an older woman following him. “I’ve brought down the new hire like you said to, boss.”

The lines on the woman’s face declared she was easily in her sixties, but her fiery orange hair and lively expression said she was far from retirement. She gave the men a once-over, sizing each one up with keen blue eyes before nodding briskly toward Beth. “I’m Maude and I hear I’ve got two days to learn my job before you go gallivanting. My favorite kind of challenge, but we’d better get to it, missy.”

Maude had the voice of a drill sergeant and for some reason, that struck Beth as hilariously funny. She burst into laughter. If the sound was a bit hysterical, she could be forgiven. No way was this a dream because this woman had too much presence not to be real. Which meant everything else was real too. Darn.

She’d almost convinced herself otherwise.

Maude nodded approvingly, her head moving in a single bob of military precision. “I like to work with a woman who has a sense of humor.”

Beth got her mirth under control and stuck her hand out, relieved her unrestrained humor had not offended her new assistant. “Beth Whitney. It’s a pleasure to meet you. As you said, we’ve got a lot to do…”

She turned to the men standing around her desk. “If you will excuse us, gentlemen.” Then without waiting to see if they took the hint, she dismissed them by turning toward Maude. “We’ll start by familiarizing you with my setup. We’ll train you on my computer system and then set you up with your own when I get back from my upcoming assignment.”

“Sounds efficient.”

And Beth got the distinct impression that to Maude, that was high praise. Beth launched into an explanation of her early morning routine to which the older woman listened to avidly. However, part of Beth was attuned and waiting for the men to leave. She didn’t know when her dad and Alan left, but she could tell when Ethan did. The air around her stopped crackling.

“Well done,” Maude said.

Beth looked up. “Excuse me?”

“You handled the testosterone brigade with just the right amount of authority. An admin has to establish her boundaries and let the suits know where she stands from the get-go.”

“I agree,” Beth said, certain that Maude would have no issues with that aspect of her job.

By the end of the day, she was confident the older woman wouldn’t have any problems, period. She was an absolute dynamo and Beth felt better about leaving than she had since agreeing to the assignment. Maude even finalized her travel arrangements to Portland International Airport. She booked a seat for Ethan on her father’s instructions as well, though Beth didn’t understand why he was accompanying her to the interview.

She asked about it immediately after arriving at his apartment that night. It was actually the entire ground floor of a three-story brick house on the outskirts of the city on a street lined with trees and pristine sidewalks, though the neighborhood was older. He had chosen a similar color scheme to hers, but with a very different overriding theme. The influence of his home state was subtle, but unmistakable. His dark chocolate leather furniture and solid wood tables had a western feel that was both stylish and comfortable.

He had few knickknacks and almost no artwork on the walls, and yet the living area did not feel sanitized, simply uncluttered.

He hung her jacket in his entry closet as he answered her question. “Your dad and I decided I would play the possessive boyfriend.”

He came back into the living room, where she sat at one end of the long sofa. He was wearing the same dark jeans he’d had on earlier, but he’d put on a snug-fitting Henley with them and taken off his boots and socks. His feet were very masculine. And dark. Like he’d been barefoot in the sun a lot. He hadn’t gotten that way in D.C. But she knew his extreme sports took him south frequently.

He poured her a glass of wine from the bottle chilling in a bucket on his big, square coffee table. “I’ll call you several times a day, show up to take you to lunch almost every day, drive you to work, and pick you up. That sort of thing. It will give me a chance to be on-site more than I would otherwise and will establish a precedent for you staying in pretty constant contact with me.”

She took a sip of the wine. It was a Riesling and the tangy sweetness slid over her tongue with familiar pleasure. “Mmm. This is my favorite kind of wine.”

“I know.”

“You do?” She didn’t remember telling him. “I didn’t think we’d discussed culinary preferences last night. Though we probably should have.”

“We’ve known each other for two years, Beth. My knowledge of you is not limited to what we discussed yesterday.”

“Of course.” She just thought he hadn’t noticed. “Do you think Prescott will buy the overly possessive boyfriend bit?”

Ethan shook his head, his expression remonstrative. “I’m good at my job, Beth. I’ll be very convincing as the jealous, possessive boyfriend. Trust me.”

Suddenly the events of the morning started to make more sense. “You and Dad talked about this yesterday, didn’t you?”

“Yes, why?”

“You were getting into character,” she mused, both relieved and somewhat deflated at the same time.

“What are you talking about?”

“This morning. When you were going all macho primitive with Alan. That was all about you being in character.” She took another sip of wine and tried to squelch even the tiniest niggle of disappointment at the realization.

Ethan leaned back on the sofa and put his bare feet up on the coffee table. “You don’t see me as the macho, primitive type?”

“Macho yes, primitive no.”

He did that thing with his eyebrow, lifting one in silent inquiry. “Hmmm…”

She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He shifted a little and her gaze traveled down his body involuntarily. Muscles bulged against the black denim on his thighs, but those bare feet snagged her attention and held on. It felt intimate, sitting there like that. Was that because of last night, or because there was something personal about seeing a man’s feet? Maybe if they lived in Hawaii, or even Southern California, it wouldn’t feel like this. But D.C. was not a barefoot town. Far from it. Which made this little scenario feel intimate…just like the night before.

Had she really flashed him with her panties?

She’d lost her mind, but that was better than losing her heart. And she wasn’t convinced that organ was invulnerable.

“And if I told you that I don’t consider it primitive to tell the man who stood you up at the altar three years ago to mind his own business?”