I was watching Alice, so Ned’s words took a moment to sink in. “Wait, were you talking about Alice when you said that before?”

“Huh.”

“Alice? Not Layla?”

He shuffled his feet, nervous now that I’d raised my voice.

“You couldn’t just say her name?” I chided. “It might’ve saved us all a lot of trouble.”

“Huh,” he said, and his mouth curved up. “You’re smart.”

I rolled my eyes. Yeah, I was real smart. “See you around, Ned.”

Before he could wander off, I heard, “Meow.”

I looked down and saw Baba the cat, another creature who saw things. Guess he wasn’t talking, either.

“Hey, buddy, there you are,” Ned said. “I was wondering where you ran off to. You hungry? Me, too.” He reached down and picked up the cat, who nuzzled his neck ecstatically.

“Yeah, you’re my friend, aren’t you?” Ned held the cat up in the air and stared at him. “ ’Specially when you’re looking to get fed.”

“Meow.”

“Come on, then. Let’s go chow down.” He clutched the cat close and lifted one hand in farewell to me, then wandered off down the hall.

I walked away, shaking my head. Ned talked to the cat more than he talked to humans. Maybe he was on to something.

“I was looking for you,” Derek said, wrapping his arm around my waist. I pressed myself against his solid chest and felt the soft leather of his jacket against my cheek. His uniquely masculine scent filled my senses. I breathed in deeply before breaking contact.

“Ready to go?” I asked brightly, determined not to be an idiot in front of him. I would make our last evening together a cheery one. I refused to cry, to make a scene, to make him uncomfortable. I would wish him well and let him go. End of story. Piece of cake.

We walked toward the front door and I glanced around, desperate for conversation starters. Why did I feel so lame, all of a sudden?

“Are you packed?” I asked.

“No.”

“Oh. Did you get something to eat?”

“No.”

“Did you want to go by your hotel?” I asked.

“No.”

“Okay. Well, all righty then.”

He pushed the door open and I stepped outside, directly into the path of a frigid evening breeze. The fog had rolled in over the water and dusk shrouded the city in shadows. I shuddered and he pulled me closer as we walked to the Bentley.

I rested my head against his shoulder and tried to sound casual. “Just when I’m getting used to having you around, it’s time for you to leave.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Getting used to having me around?”

“Well, yes.” I patted his chest. “But I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation with Gunther. I know you’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Oh, you do?”

“Yes, that’s why I was asking if you were all packed.”

“Ah.” He studied my face and asked, “How do you feel about my leaving?”

He had to ask? I took a deep breath, then tried for a tone of casual friendliness. “I’ll miss you, of course, but I know you have to get back. You have a business to run, and I’m sure your family must miss you.”

“Yes, I’m sure they miss me terribly.”

“And the people at your company must miss you, too.”

His lips twisted in a smile. “I have no doubt all eight hundred and twelve of them miss me every day.”

“There you go.” What a brave little thing I was. Then I realized what he’d said and my jaw dropped. “Wait. You have over eight hundred employees?”

He shrugged. “Security is in high demand.”

“I guess.”

He studied me as he pulled a small thin case from his inside pocket. “Let me give you my business card so we can be sure to keep in touch.”

Keep in touch.

Now, why did he have to go and say that? I felt my throat close up completely, which caused my eyes to water. It was just a physical reaction to the weather. Nothing more.

“I’d like that,” I whispered, hating that my voice trembled. I slipped his card into my pants pocket, then looked away, not able to make eye contact, unwilling to make more of a fool of myself than I already had.

“Yes, I’d like that, too,” he said.

I cleared my throat. “I remember when you first arrived, you said you’d tried to stay away, so I’ll understand if you do this time.”

“You’ll understand if I do.”

I knew my smile was wobbly but I forced myself to continue. “Stay away, I mean. It’s hard to stay in touch when there’s such a distance separating us, but if you do happen to come through town sometime, it would be lovely to see you again.”

Could I have sounded more lame? Tears were blurring my eyes but I blamed it on the cold air.

“Would it?”

“Yes, it would.” I turned away to dab my eyes.

He took my chin in his hand to steer me back to look at him. “Are you all right?”

I sniffled, then shook away this maudlin nonsense and smiled tightly. “The cold is making my eyes water. No big deal. So, it’s your last evening in town. Anything special you’d like to do?”

“A few things,” he admitted, still watching me. “But, Brooklyn, I’m not pleased by the way you brushed off my suggestion that we keep in touch. You didn’t even look at my new business card, and I’ll have you know I paid a pretty penny for them.”

Disappointed, I glared at him. “You’re annoyed with me because I didn’t look at your business card?”

“Well, yes. You shoved it in your pocket without giving it a proper glance. I’m quite put out.”

I stopped in my tracks. Was he trying to pick a fight with me? “You’re kidding, right?”

“Read the damn card, Brooklyn.”

“For God’s sake.” Frustrated, I brushed away angry tears. My heart was breaking and he wanted me to read his stupid business card? Selfish man! I pulled the card out and forced myself to study it. My eyes widened and I read it again. “Is this . . . are you . . . is this some kind of cruel joke?”

“Hell, no, it’s not a joke.” He yanked open the Bentley’s passenger door, then blocked my way into the car. “Why would I joke about this? Those cards are damned expensive. Top-quality stock, engraved by the Queen’s own royal stationers. Cost me an arm and a leg, but it was worth it, I think. And you ask if it’s a joke? It most certainly is not a—”

“Shut up,” I whispered, and planted my lips on his.

“Rude wench,” he muttered against my mouth.

I laughed. I must’ve dropped his extremely expensive hand-engraved card as I wrapped my arms around his neck, but that was okay. I’d already memorized the Nob Hill address that would serve as the new San Francisco headquarters for Stone Security.

“You asked if there was something special I’d like to do tonight,” he said. “There is.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“You,” he murmured.

Delighted, I smiled up at him. “Then let’s go home.”

Brooklyn’s Glossary

PARTS OF THE BOOK

Boards—Usually made of stiff cardboard (or, occasionally, wood) and covered in fabric (cloth, paper, leather).

Covering—Cloth, paper, or leather fabric used to cover the boards.

Endband—Small ornamental band of cloth glued at the top and bottom of the inside of the spine, used to give a polished finish to the book (also called a headband or tailband).

Endsheets—The first and last sheets of the textblock that are pasted to the inside of the cover board; the pastedown.

Flyleaf—First one or two blank pages of a book, not pasted to the inside of the cover board. These pages protect the inner pages of the textblock.

Foredge—The front edge of the textblock opposite the spine edge. The edge is usually smooth but may, on occasion, be rough, or deckled. The edge may be gilded or, in rare instances, painted. Fore-edge painting gained popularity in the seventeenth century when religious or pastoral scenes were painted onto the foredge to embellish the book’s content. The painting was invisible until the pages were fanned in a certain direction.