told you, I didn’t.” He snagged another leaf. “You have incredible eyes, do you know that?”
Torn between laughing and punching him, she opted for poking him in the chest. “Car, pal. Yours. Now.”
His mouth curved. “You don’t trust me, do you?”
Eyes as dark as his should not, she thought with a sigh, be legal. “I want to see your headlights, Armand.”
“There must be something more interesting I could show you.”
Her brows went up. “Maxwell Burgoyne’s murderer would work.”
His breath stirred the hair on her forehead, that’s how close he’d gotten to her. “Say more personal, then.”
She wasn’t up to playing games with him. But neither was she about to back down. “Where are you parked?”
“Near the fallen sycamore.”
She kept wanting to stare at his mouth. She forced her eyes upward instead. “I thought you didn’t follow me.”
“I parked beside you. That isn’t following.”
“And you knew where I was because…?”
He trapped a strand of her hair between his fingers and stroked it with his thumb. “Maybe I’m telepathic, Eden. My mother claimed to be.”
Although she was fascinated by his face, Eden held tight to her train of thought. “My grandmother believes in an old family curse, Armand. I’m a DDS. I believe in science and sometimes in karma. I’m not big on telepathy, and no matter how many times you try to distract me, I still want to see your headlights.”
He studied her through his lashes. His gaze lingered just a little too long on her lips.
Not good, she decided and stepped back. She planted her hand once again on his chest and this time locked her elbow. “I want—”
“Yes, I know.” His eyes glinted. “Headlights. Explanations. Remember, you’ve been avoiding my questions all day as well.”
The more distance she put between them, the more in control Eden felt. She started toward the front of the house. “I had a full schedule when I began my day, and I squeezed in two emergency reconstructions at lunch. I assume—” she glanced backward at the eerie silhouette that was Montesse House “—there was no sign of anyone inside.”
“No sign I could detect, but someone could have been there. I saw footprints, inside and out. Leaves, too, and litter.”
For the first time since the planter had fallen, Eden allowed uncertainty to creep in. “It wasn’t an accident,” she said without thinking. “I heard the base move.”
Armand surprised her by nodding. “There was no reason for it to fall, and coincidence is a thing I seldom accept.” Catching her easily, he draped an arm over her shoulder and pointed. “There it is, behind your car as promised.”
Eden halted. “You drive an SUV?”
He smiled. “You make it sound like a crime.”
It had been a car behind her, a darker, late-model car, she was sure of that. Biting her lip, she shrugged off his arm and headed for the front of the vehicle. “Would you mind turning on your headlights?”
“I can think of better things to do, Eden.” But he opened the door and switched them on.
She stared at the twin beams until her eyes stung, then turned away in frustration. Not even a little blue. “Okay, you didn’t follow me, at least not in a way that I could see.”
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