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  And he felt it now as he knocked on her door. When there was no answer, he tried the knob. This time, to his surprise, it turned. He felt his pulse speed up as he pushed the door open a crack and peeked through, expecting to see Nicky lying tousled and naked in bed. But she wasn’t buried beneath the sheets, or standing at the window, or anywhere to be seen. The absolute silence and orderliness of the room told him she was gone.

  Maybe she was downstairs, making herself some breakfast. But that would be surprising, given that the clock next to her bed told him it was just after eight on a Saturday morning. Nearly stumbling down the stairs in his haste, Matt made his way directly through the dining room to the small kitchen at the back. The room was empty, but the coffee was already brewing, which meant Frank was up.

  Matt pulled back the curtains and peered out at the shop. A sigh of relief escaped him. Well, she couldn’t have gotten far. Her car was still high up on the hoist.

  “Good morning, Matthew,” Frank said cheerfully, stepping through the swinging door into the small kitchen. “Another beautiful day.”

  “Yes, it looks that way. Frank, have you seen Nicky this morning?”

  He watched the older man rub the silvery whiskers on his unshaven face. He’d only just gotten up himself by the looks of things. “No, I haven’t. But I saw a fax from her.”

  Matt stared at him. “What do you mean, a fax?”

  “I’m not pulling your leg, Matt,” Frank replied in a straightforward voice. “It’s sitting on your desk.”

  Matt drew a hand back through his rumpled hair. “Okay, I’ll go take a look.” He turned and strode out of the kitchen, cursing himself for being so rankled. How dare she just leave without telling him. Of course, he’d done the same thing himself once or twice in the past, long before he met Nicky. But he’d never had a woman sneak out on him before. This was a first.

  He rushed into his office and grabbed the fax from the top of his desk. The brief note had much more to do with business than pleasure.

  Dear Matt,

  This is to inform you that I took the liberty of borrowing your car, since mine is still being held captive in your shop. As I am now finished with my work at Lindenfield, I propose we exchange cars by leaving them in the parking lot outside your office building on Monday. The keys to both vehicles can be left at reception.

  Nicky

  * * * * *

  Nicky opened the side entrance leading to Hidden Eye early Wednesday morning. Because she’d worked until Saturday, Smith had given her an extra-long Fourth of July holiday weekend, which she’d appreciated. She’d needed the break to try to put that last assignment, including the gorgeous, infuriating Matthew Anderson, behind her.

  Whether he’d liked it or not, Matt had done what she’d requested, leaving her car in his parking lot for her to pick up. The switch of cars went as smoothly as she’d hoped. Best of all, she didn’t have to see him, which was the whole idea. She couldn’t bear to see Matthew Anderson ever again. As an extra precaution, she’d had all her home phone calls transferred to one of the unlisted numbers at work, just in case he tried to look her up. It was the perfect escape. She’d managed the ultimate clean break.

  Why, then, did she feel so defeated?

  Walking through the office that was unusually quiet for midweek, Nicky decided she was in dire need of a new assignment, if for no other reason than to get her mind off Matthew Anderson. Preferably a case that took her overseas, or at least as far away as the next state.

  “Morning, Nick! Had a good holiday?” Smith said as she stuck her head into his office. As usual, he was leaning back in his swivel chair, chewing on one of his cheap cigars.

  “Hi, Smithy,” she muttered as she stepped inside, leaving the door ajar behind her.

  “Doesn’t seem like an extra-long weekend was enough recovery time,” he said, scrutinizing her carefully. “You look about as deflated as a flat tire.”

  “I feel like one too,” she mumbled, collapsing into a chair across from him. “Believe me, chief, that case wasn’t easy. I just hope the stuff I came up with was enough evidence to satisfy your client.”

  Smith chuckled, balancing his cigar between his teeth. “Mrs. Anderson? Why, she’s happy as a lark. You did yourself proud, Nick. Especially the tape-recorded bit. Of course, she’s still lacking a name and address. But she figures Matt will come clean with her now that he definitely has a girl for the altar.”

  She remained quiet as he propped his feet up on his desk. “What?” she asked innocently, looking up at his discerning stare.

  “It’s Mr. Dark Eyes, isn’t it, Nicky? He got to you.”

  She felt her heart constrict in response to the undeniable truth. Yet she didn’t want to admit it.

  “No. Yes—I don’t know, Smithy,” she moaned, turning in her chair to face the window. She looked out, but didn’t see a thing. Her mind seemed capable of concentrating on one thing only—Matt. “He was just so generous and kind. So…”

  “Charming? Oh, he’s a charmer all right. To tell you the truth, I don’t know why his mother was so worried. There’s probably a long list of women just waiting for him to say the word.”

  “Yeah, probably,” she sighed, grimacing as she turned back to her boss. “Anyway, now you owe me, chief. I want a decent assignment, one that’ll get me out of the country.”

  She watched his slow reaction and knew what he was about to say wasn’t going to be pleasant.

  “I’d love to do just that, Nick, but I can’t. In fact, if you want a few more days off, you’re welcome to them,” he said flatly, sending a puff of smoke toward the dingy ceiling. “I don’t know what’s going wrong this summer, or maybe it’s what’s going right. People seem to be getting along better than ever. Assignments haven’t been this few in years,” he muttered, looking out through the dusty glass to the busy street below. “Maybe the weather has something to do with it. Love is blooming along with the flowers and trees, which means there’s not much business out there for us.”

  Nicky felt what was left of her heart sink to her knees. No assignments. She’d thought the office seemed empty when she first stepped in. “I thought you didn’t believe in such a silly, frivolous thing as love,” was all she could manage.

  “Let me tell you, Nick. It’s hard not to believe in it when the stuff is wreaking havoc on my business—and on my best employee.”

  “Very funny, Smithy. For your information, I’m not in love with Matthew Anderson. I only… What is it, Smithy? What’s wrong?” Following his startled gaze, she slowly turned in her chair to see the very topic of their conversation stick his head into the room.

  Her heart leaped from somewhere down around her knees up into her throat as she found herself staring into the dark, brooding eyes of Matthew Anderson. Her racing pulse forced blood into every cell of her face, setting fire to her cheeks. She jumped to her feet and opened her mouth but could find no words, no words at all. How had he found her here when he thought she worked for a magazine?

  “Since you were already discussing me, I thought I might as well make my presence known,” he said in his usual smooth tone. He shrugged as he stepped inside. “It would be rude not to.”

  “And exactly what do you think you’re doing here?” she demanded, finally finding her voice.

  But Matt proceeded to ignore her, closing the door behind him and making himself comfortable in one of Smith’s old chairs. He looked as good as ever, she noticed, though something about him was distinctly different. It took her a minute to figure out what it was. He was dressed down instead of up, giving a whole new meaning to the simple sex appeal of jeans and a white T-shirt.

  “I assume you are the head of this organization, Mr.—?”

  Smith reached out his hand to Matt, neither one getting out of his seat. “Smith,” he replied curtly, removing the cigar from his mouth.

  Matt shook his hand and chuckled. “Isn’t that name a little overused as a pseudonym in this kind of business?

&
nbsp; “As a matter of fact, it’s his real name,” Nicky heard herself snapping, attracting both pairs of eyes. As they looked up at her, she realized she was the only one standing. Heaving herself back down into her chair, she crossed both arms and legs that were bared in a violet cotton tank and her favorite pair of jean shorts. She caught Matt’s eyes wandering over her, making her nerve endings come to life over every inch they roamed. “So, I assume you know the truth, since you were able to find me,” she said tersely. She was trying hard to remain obstinate, but something inside her was melting as fast as a Popsicle on a hot sidewalk.

  His gaze settled on her face. She looked into his dancing eyes and knew he was thoroughly enjoying himself at her expense, just like that first day when he’d picked her up. “Well, that’s why I’m here, I suppose,” he said. “To find out the little I don’t already know.”

  Smith cleared his throat. “If you two don’t mind, I think I’ll just leave you to it,” he said, getting up and making his way out of the room.

  “Fine, Mr. Smith,” Matt answered quickly, leaving her protests exactly where they were, on the tip of her tongue. How dare Smith leave her now! It was his red file, after all.

  Nicky felt her boss’ hand squeeze her shoulder as he passed. It was a consoling gesture he resorted to whenever she was under pressure. But she’d never been in a situation like this before. Not once had any of their clients found her out, or cornered her like Matt was doing now.

  But then again, she’d never become personally involved in any of her cases. She’d never gotten to know the people she was reporting on. And the present situation was reason enough never to get involved again. It was much safer staying on the other side of the camera, looking at life from a distance.

  But now here she was, trapped on the wrong side. Now she was the one being observed, scrutinized, caught in the act. Exposed…

  Matt was staring at her, one elbow leaning on the side of his chair, a hand half covering the smile on his lips.

  “So, I guess I must be a lousy actress,” she mumbled.

  “Terrible. The absolute worst.” His hand dropped away and his smile transformed into a full-blown grin, dissolving some of the tension in her upper body. Her heart skipped into a faster rhythm as she took in the warmth of his gaze. “You’d better stay here in Boston,” he continued. “You would never make it in Hollywood.”

  “Okay, you don’t have to rub it in,” she grumbled, getting up and walking over to the window.

  “So, why did you leave in such a hurry? Was it something I did? Something I said?”

  “Well, yes, in a way.” She folded her arms across her chest and stared at him. Then she made her way over to Smith’s swivel chair and sat down across from him.

  “I’m afraid I’m a little slow this morning, Nicky. Can you elaborate?” he asked, mimicking her serious expression right down to the folded arms.

  “All right. You now know your mother hired us to spy on you. Well, I got what I needed, so there really was no point in staying any longer, was there?” She chose her words carefully.

  “What exactly was it that you got?” he asked slowly.

  She could see he had raised an eyebrow expectantly. “Evidence that you have a prospective bride, of course,” she answered.

  “That’s all?”

  She shrugged.

  “So you did your job and that was it.” He seemed a little crestfallen. “You could have said goodbye at least. Why the hurry? And you haven’t told me what it was I was supposed to have said.” He appeared genuinely concerned that he had said or done something that might have caused her grief.

  How could she say that it was because she’d felt she’d been two-timed? That he had wined and dined her—no, done much more than that—and then had promptly gone back to his room to renew his passion with J on the telephone? “You can love whoever you want!” she suddenly blurted out, and then realized it wasn’t an answer to his question.

  Matt looked at her in bewilderment. “Like I said, I’m a little slow this morning.” He cocked his head to try to look into her partially averted eyes. “I don’t really follow you.”

  Nicky knew she was floundering. “I heard your telephone conversation that night,” she finally said.

  He rubbed his chin and searched the floor with his eyes as if looking for something he had misplaced.

  “Matt Anderson, I think you are the gifted actor between the two of us.” Her voice rose in exasperation. “You went back to your room to declare your love to your friend who’s helping you out. The one who is going to marry you.”

  “Oh, that conversation,” he replied, his expression and voice suddenly growing very serious. “Yes, you’re right. I did have a conversation with a woman I love dearly late that night.”

  “J from New York,” she prompted.

  “You’re off by one letter, actually. That was a K. Kate, my sister.” Amusement glimmered in his eyes.

  “But…”

  “Who’s J?” he asked.

  “I don’t know… There was a letter.”

  “Yes. J, the letter.”

  “No. The letter in your room,” she stammered. “The letter I found tucked in your bed.”

  “Oh that letter. Hmm. Not much of an actress, but certainly a good investigator.” He was grinning from ear to ear.

  “Don’t try to change the subject,” she retorted.

  “Ah yes, the letter. You have me there. I admit that correspondence was from a love interest,” he said slowly and seriously. “Janice, my ex from a few years ago. I knew you needed something to go on, so I dug it up.” He leaned back, his face brightening.

  Her head was swimming.

  “Nicky?”

  She blinked, realizing she’d been staring at the red file on Smith’s desk with Anderson printed along the side in bold letters. She wondered how it was that the file seemed to have every bit of information about Matt, and yet, she hadn’t seen anything about a sister. Well, it didn’t matter anymore—it looked as if that file was closed now for good. Or had Matt just reopened some unfinished business?

  “Look, Nicky, I want to apologize for not letting on that I knew what you were up to,” he said, getting out of his chair and coming to lean over her, his hands resting on top of the desk on either side of her. He was so close, she could smell his familiar aftershave, reminding her of that last night in his arms. Her heart fluttered like a trapped bird.

  “I’ve put you through a lot,” he continued seriously. “More than was actually necessary. I probably should have told you that I knew what my mother was doing. But a big part of me wanted you to find enough evidence to convince her not to worry. Otherwise, she’d be on my case even more than she already is.”

  “So instead, you’d rather have me on your case,” she replied.

  “Yes, and for another reason as well. I wanted you to stick around for a while. I wanted to get to know you. You—intrigued me.”

  She felt her stomach flutter as his voice dipped lower. She shook her head and slumped back in Smith’s chair.

  He straightened. “I know what you must have thought, Nicky, and I’m sorry. Which is why I want to make it up to you,” he said, glancing at his watch. “It’s nearly lunchtime. Why don’t I take you out, and we can really celebrate the end of this case?”

  She had to admit, she liked the sound of that. It would be a relief to be herself with him for once—not to worry about what she said or didn’t say for a change. And what harm could there be in just having lunch with him? “You’re on,” she replied with a grin. “Should we take your car, or walk to my apartment and pick up my car? You might prefer my Honda now that you’ve had a chance to test-drive it.”

  Matt looked extremely pleased. “Your little Honda works all right now, though I have to say, I was getting used to it decorating my shop. Now the place looks a little empty,” he said, reaching for the door.

  Nicky smiled, wondering if only the repair shop felt empty to Matt now that she’d left Lindenf
ield.

  “By the way, I paid your car repair bill.”

  “Oh.” Nicky frowned as he opened the door for her. She’d forgotten about that.

  “Let’s just say you owe me one,” he said, following behind her.

  Halfway out the door, Nicky froze. The few staff members who were in that day, including her boss, were staring at her. At Matt. At the two of them together. It was like a repeat performance of last week, except this time she hadn’t yelled at Smith. She hadn’t done a thing, except carry on an intimate conversation with their client’s son, who also happened to be the most eligible bachelor in the city. “Okay, Matt. I owe you one,” she said, loud enough to reach even the deafest ears. Turning to him, she slipped her arm through his. “Now, where did you say you’re taking me for lunch?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Nicky allowed Matt to open the passenger door of his Mercedes-Benz for her. Then Matt got in his side and fired up the engine. Within minutes they were parked under the shade trees of Boston Common.

  She took in the wide green space in front of them and looked back at him. “I thought you said you were taking me out for lunch. Or do you want to go for a walk in the park first?” she asked.

  “No, we’re having lunch,” he said, opening his door. “Can you give me a hand?”

  She released her seat belt and pushed open her door. What could he possibly need help with?

  Matt was hauling a large wicker picnic basket out of the trunk. It was filled with French bread, various cheeses, fruit, a bottle of wine, and a box of Belgian chocolates. She smiled. “A picnic?”

  He nodded and handed her a soft red blanket. “Why don’t you pick a spot?”

  Nicky led the way to a secluded stretch of soft grass beside a picturesque pond where ducks paddled around in small families. She spread the blanket beneath one of the sprawling trees and sank down to enjoy the peaceful surroundings.