"Thanks." Eugene seemed to relax. He took one of the cups of punch. "Dwayne and me figured it was about time we educated ourselves about art, y'know?"

"Of course." She gestured toward the buffet table. "Help yourselves to cookies."

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"Look, Dwayne, they've got free food."

He started toward the table.

"Excellent." Dwayne downed the contents of his punch cup and set off in Eugene's wide wake.

Nick sauntered through the door at that moment. His gaze tracked Eugene and Dwayne's progress. "Everything okay in here?"

"Yes, indeed," she said. "I was just welcoming a couple of other legitimate members of the community."

He raised his eyebrows. "Do I detect a trace of irony here?"

"Probably." She glanced at Carson, who stood with Anne in front of the picture of Zeb. The two children appeared to be deep in conversation. A couple of miniature art connoisseurs, she thought. "Tell me the truth, Nick. Would you say that I'm a real member of this community?"

"Are you kidding? You've got everyone from Mean Eugene and Dickhead Dwayne to the wife of the future mayor here tonight. You've also got representatives of both the Harte and Madison clans. Trust me, in Eclipse Bay, it doesn't get any more legitimate."

"You're teasing me, aren't you?"

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"I'm dealing the truth here. And there's another thing that guarantees you a place of honor in our fair town."

"What's that?"

"You broke the curse."

She made a face. "If you mention that stupid curse one more time, I swear, I'll—"

"I'd appreciate it if you would not refer to the condition of my former sex life as stupid," he said with grave dignity.

"At least you had a previous sex life. When I look back, I've got to wonder if I was the one under a spell. Two years is a long time to go between dates."

He gave her a smile that curled her toes.

"But it was worth the wait, right?" he said.

"I am not going to respond to such a leading question. Not in public, at any rate. Now, you'll have to excuse me, I'm trying to host a show here." She made to move off.

"By the way," he added, lowering his voice, "there is one more thing I wanted to tell you."

She paused and looked at him inquiringly. "Yes?"

He glanced around, apparently checking to see if there was anyone within earshot. Then he grasped her arm and urged her into a quiet corner of the room.

"Mitch and Sullivan and I think we've got a lead on the Upsall."

Stunned, she just stared at him for a couple of seconds. He was standing very close, one hand braced against the wall behind her. There was something utterly, dangerously masculine in the way he leaned into her slightly, cutting off her view of the room with his broad shoulders. His body language spoke of possession and a silent claim that she knew every other man in the room could probably read.

A sense of deja vu swept through her. This was the way he had stood with her at Lillian's gallery show, she thought. He had put himself between her and the crowd that evening, too, cutting her out of the herd, making her intensely aware of him and then asking her out on a date. She had known in her heart where a date with Nick would lead and her nerve had failed her that night.

Oh, sure, later she had come up with lots of really good reasons for avoiding the risk of getting involved with him, but the stark truth was that her courage had failed at crunch time that first night. She had run from him that evening and several more times after that.

But tonight was different. Tonight, because she had finally taken the risk, she knew him far more intimately and deeply and she could see what lay beneath the surface. In addition to the intensely sensual threat he posed, there was strength and honor and integrity. Dear God, I'm in love.

Automatically she lowered her own voice to a whisper. "Who? What? Where? Tell me what's going on here, Nick."

He looked at her very steadily. "No one's got more of a right to answers than you do. But this afternoon Sullivan and Mitchell asked me to ask you to give them until noon tomorrow to confirm our hunch."

"Why the delay?"

"We need to be sure. We're talking about someone with deep ties throughout the community. People are going to be hurt. We can't afford to be wrong."

She searched his face. He was genuinely concerned about what might happen when it all came undone.

"And if you're right?" she asked gently.

"There will be a lot of fallout. And it won't all come down on the person who took the painting. There is someone else who will probably get dumped on, too. An innocent bystander."

"Collateral damage."

"Yes."

She shivered. "I hate those words. Translated, they mean that real people will get burned."

"Yes," he said again. But this time his eyes went cold. "I told Sullivan and Mitch that, although I'm willing to give them some time, I'm not going to let this thing get hushed up or swept under a rug. One way or the other, by tomorrow afternoon, your name will be cleared, no matter who gets hurt. I'm not going to let you take the rap."

He meant every word, she thought. He was making it blazingly clear that she was his first priority. The realization gave her an odd feeling. No one had ever fought any battles for her and now, in the space of less than a week, Nick had gotten involved in a barroom brawl and was about to expose an upstanding member of the community as a thief. All in her name.

"All right," she said. "Tell Mitch and Sullivan I'll wait until tomorrow."

"Thanks. They'll be grateful."

"I owe them that much," she said. "For Aunt Claudia's sake, if nothing else." She peeked around his shoulder. "I'd better go. This crowd is getting bigger and it looks like the cookies have disappeared."

She made to slide around the broad shield of his shoulders.

"One more thing I wanted to tell you before you run off," he said quietly.

She looked back at him, her mind on the cookie supply issue. "Yes?"

"Something I should have said that first night at Lillian's show. Something I knew at the time. Something I've known all along. Just didn't quite recognize it until recently. Probably because I'm a little out of practice."

"What's that?"

"I love you."

She stared at him, open-mouthed. Bereft of speech.

He gave her a sexy, knowing smile. "Better go check on the cookies."

He pushed himself away from the wall and strolled off into the crowd.

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