The rest of the kids jockey and bob excitedly for positions at the barrier. Evelyn rises, smiling as she watches them enjoy the discovery. She is relaxed and open with the kids, a stark contrast to the wary, mistrusting woman who faced off with me in her office a couple of days ago.
With her long dark hair swept up in a bouncy ponytail, she’s wearing casual beige slacks and running shoes, paired with a simple white V-neck top that hugs the fullness of her breasts and plays up the warm toffeecolor of her smooth skin. As gorgeous as Evelyn is in professional attire and high heels, the only way I’ve seen her so far, this relaxed, natural side of her is even sexier.
So is her easy laughter, which shuts off abruptly as soon as she turns her head and spots me.
She doesn’t move, not even when the pack of giggling children race off, prompted by the shout and summoning wave of a nearby parent.
Part of me expects her to run after them.
Part of me hopes like hell she will.
But Evelyn stands firm as I approach, her lovely face unreadable, but watching me. Her posture is graceful, yet guarded, as if she’s trying to decide whether to brace for a fight or ready herself for a desperate flight, like the herd of skittish prey animals currently tearing from one end of their artificial plain to the other in the habitat behind her.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” I say, walking up beside her at the railing.
She stares at me for a moment, long enough for me to recognize that I was wrong about one thing. There is nothing in this woman that’s prepared to back down. “I didn’t expect to see you, either.”
Something in her tone tells me if she’d known our paths might cross, she wouldn’t have come at all. Her gaze flicks past me, and I wonder if she’s concerned that her brother or someone else from Baine International might walk by and catch us talking.
I should be concerned, too, but being around this woman has the unfortunate tendency to make me reckless. She draws my attention away from things that should matter—things thatdomatter, and will, long after I force myself past this inconvenient infatuation.
That’s what part of my seeking her out right now is about. I need to close the door on this feeling I have toward her. I need to lock it up tight and walk the fuck away before I do something idiotic like kissing her again.
I’ve been telling myself it’s my job I want to protect. That I need to preserve the trust I’ve earned with Beck and Nick. But staring into her challenging green eyes leaves me no room to deny that pushing her away is in the interest of my own survival too.
Especially when all I want to do is pull her into my arms and claim another taste of her sexy, silky mouth.
“You’re good with the kids,” I tell her, watching her wave to the little girl in pink who shouts goodbye to Evelyn as her mother leads her up the path.
“I hardly remember being that young,” she says, more to herself than me, it seems. When she glances my way again, a frown rides her brow. “What are you doing here, Gabe?”
“The event only has a couple more hours to go. I was taking one last walk through the park and saw you here. I was hoping you and I could speak privately.” I pause for a moment, trying to determine the best way through this. When she doesn’t give me any indication that she even wants to see me, much less talk to me, I curse under my breath. Might as well plow straight in. “After my conduct the other day, Evelyn, I feel I owe you an apology.”
She doesn’t hide her skepticism. Her lips press flat, and the look she gives me is somewhere close to contempt. “Or maybe you’re just worried I might say something that could make things awkward for you today.”
Her venom shocks me. “I guess I deserve that.” Ishake my head, deciding here and now that she’s got every right to be angry, even vengeful. “I stepped way over the line when I kissed you, Evelyn. It won’t happen again. If you feel you need to tell your brother or Nick what I did—hell, if you want to demand my job for it—I’m not going to fault you.”
She scoffs. “Actually, I expected you to be more concerned that I might say something to your date.”
“My what?”
Folding her arms, she pins me with a cold look. “I saw you, Gabe. You and the pretty blonde you’re here with. I saw you chatting and laughing with her over by the picnic area.”
I frown, as confused by her assumption as I am amused by the fact that she seems to be stewing in jealousy. “O’Connor’s not my date. She’s a friend. As of this week, she’s also reporting to me on the Baine security team. We’re working this event today.”
Her lips part and some of the chill leaves her expression. “Well, it doesn’t matter to me, anyway.”
But it did matter when she thought there was something between O’Connor and me. I refrain from pointing it out to her, because as pleased as I am by her possessiveness, that’s not why I’m here.
It can’t be, no matter how much I’d like to chase that stung look off her lovely face with another kiss.
One that would leave no doubt in her mind about just how powerfully I want her.
Instead, I let her denial stand and opt for a less thorny subject. “Were you recruited to help out today, too? I couldn’t help noticing that the surfer dude in the kitchen uniform kept you busy for hours behind the catering station.”
“So, you did know I was here,” she says, sounding smug and eyeing me with raised brows. “That ‘surfer dude’ is a world-renowned celebrity chef, by the way. His restaurants here in the city are booked solid months in advance. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Gavin Castille.”
I shrug. “Heard of him, sure. But I’m not really impressed by that kind of stuff. Maybe I’ve spent too much time camping out in desert war zones. Basic meat and potatoes is as close to gourmet as I’ll ever need.”
