Page 50 of Doyle

“I found something today that might work. I’m going to hike the mountain tomorrow and see if I can find some answers.”

Music spilled out nearby, dinner clearly over, and this time oldies floating in the breeze. Dean Martin, “You’re nobody ’til somebody loves you...” The lyrics reached out, tugged at him, and maybe her too, because she smiled. Nodded. “Okay, partner. I’m in.”

And as he followed her back to the patio, all he heard were his words to Austen.“I’m not a good candidate for happily ever after.”

Maybe not. But somewhere deep inside him nudged the forbidden desire to try.

* * *

Why was this man always a problem? Everywhere Emberly went lately—okay, just three times now, but seriously—Steinbeck Kingston haunted her.

Like a ghost. Or like an old injury that refused to heal.

An old injury that seemed more handsome every time she saw him—sheesh,that tan against his dark hair, those blue eyes?—

Stop.

But what kind of crazy bad luck was it that of all the close-body protection in all the world, the one man who could muck this up was the only man Declan trusted?

Fate.It drove her crazy with it’s terrible retribution.

She smiled, held out her tray of shrimp on cucumbers to another guest, her face turned away from Stein, who stood not far from Declan, looking too spiffed up in his dark suit and sunglasses.

The man didn’t have a hope of blending into the crowd. Not with those shoulders, his somber demeanor, even when he stopped to talk to his brother. And sister.

She remembered them from the wedding. What a small world to see them all here. Not that they’d remember a redheaded server from their youngest sister’s prewedding dinner. Or the woman who’d danced with Stein—yeah, that was a moment she would never forget—at the reception.

It seemed that Stein hadn’t seen her. Because if he had, he’d what—chase her down, demand answers?

Maybe. Or perhaps he’d be trickier, wait until he could get her alone.

What if he’d simply forgotten about her? It could be that she’d never been more than a blip on his radar, a person he’d met during an op that went bad.

So terribly bad it had derailed his entire career. Yeah, trauma might have wiped her right out of his brain. And she needed to keep it that way.

It helped that she’d added contacts and a dark long-haired wig, but frankly, every time her gaze landed on Stein, then moved away, her skin prickled.

She couldn’t see those blue eyes through the shades, but in her heart, her soul, even, she just knew he could see right through her.

On the other hand, everyone else simply didn’t see her, the way they didn’t see the other waitstaff.

She lifted the tray for another person to grab their treat, then moved to the next group. Sometimes this part felt too easy.

She eased away from the door, then set down her tray of grilled-shrimp appetizers and hustled across the living room to the back stairs.

A week of surveillance, including drone coverage and a hunt through the building plans down at Mariposa town hall (no online files for them), had netted her a floor plan and a fairly accurate time-stamped grid of Declan’s security force. Five guys, including Stein. They all lived in a wing of the main floor, in staff quarters, along with a number of housekeepers, local chefs, and a valet. Not a small entourage to keep the place running.

Large enough that she wouldn’t be noticed if they suddenly added to the staff,thank you.

She’d already hacked into the visual-security feed and replaced the shots with still coverage—okay, not her, but?—

“You should be near the back elevator, if you sent me the right specs.” Nim, her sister, waiting patiently in her earpiece.

“Mm-hmm,” Emberly hummed just above a whisper.

“Let me know if the key card doesn’t work.”

Footsteps sounded on the travertine, and she slipped into a nearby bathroom. A chandelier dripped from the ceiling, and a marble countertop held a raised bowl. But it was the image in the mirror that caught her attention.

---