Excerpt

Gripping the decorative knob with both hands, Eve slowly turned it. To her immense surprise and horror, someone -- something --was waiting outside the door. A weight pressed inward with such force, she toppled backward, her feet getting tangled in the avalanche of accumulated mail. Graceless as a clown, she windmilled back, landing butt first atop a stack of cardboard packing boxes, which sent the whole column and its neighbors cascading down around her ears.

When all was quiet, she braved a peek.

Crouched like a martial arts warrior ready to take on an army of villains, the man across from her scanned the foyer with eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

"What the hell…?" His voice was deep and rich with an accent she'd grown to like during her stay in New York.

Eve watched him take in the many stacks of moving boxes; his eyes widened at the mess in the kitchen. He was just starting to rise out of his defensive stance when his gaze zeroed in on her. For some reason, his right knee suddenly wobbled and he seemed to lose his balance for a moment.

His recovery was so smooth Eve wondered if she'd imagined it. Then, she looked into his eyes and her brain forgot how to think. Her heart sped up in a way that made her feel more alive than she had in weeks, perhaps months.

His eyes - a warm shade of brown -- widened. Eve tried to interpret his look. Repulsion? Disbelief? Suspicion.

"Who are you?" he growled. "Where's Eve Masterson?"

Curling into a protective ball, Eve whispered, "I wish I knew."

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