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the shape of his legs, the size of his…“Yes, sir.”
    He nodded or winked, she wasn’t quite sure what because it was fast, but she felt the impact. Warmth swept through her and she stood paralyzed a few moments as she watched him walk down the hall. It took her a moment to realize she hadn’t moved and she raced to catch up with him.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” he asked.
    â€œDominique,” she said, matching his gait. His pace was slower than she’d expected it to be, he didn’t seem to be in a hurry.
    â€œYou don’t have a last name?”
    â€œCartw--Carter,” she said remembering her cover. She glanced at him to make sure her lie had gone over smoothly and again regretted meeting his eyes, but this time for a completely different reason. The look of mischief had disappeared, replaced with a look of such genuine interest that she stared at him for a second too long and stumbled over her own feet. She quickly caught herself and waved him off when he reach out to help her. “Don’t worry I walk better than I drive.” She paused. “No wait. I mean I drive better than I walk.” She inwardly cringed. Now she sounded like an idiot on top of looking like a klutz.
    A soft smile touched his mouth. “I know what you meant.”
    Damn his eyes. She couldn’t stop looking at him. At them. They kept pulling her to him. He didn’t have to be very charming with eyes like that. But she could see something else that surprised her.
    She could see shadows in his eyes, as if he were in pain, but there was no visible sign of what had caused it. He didn’t limp or use a cane or have any slow, awkward movements. For a brief moment she felt a little guilty about her deception, but then thought of her sister and knew that men could be clever actors. But the shadows seemed real and they bothered her.
    No, she couldn’t feel sorry for him. What she had to do was necessary. She’d find some dirt on him or find a weakness and use it and then leave. He was a player and she’d play his game.
    â€œBut are you sure?” he asked.
    She glanced away, annoyed that her eyes kept being drawn to the shadows haunting his gaze. She didn’t want to care. “Am I sure about what?”
    â€œThat your name is Carter. You sounded like you hesitated, or are you just flustered?” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Was that your first live drawing class?”
    Gorgeous and smart. That was going to be a problem. She kept her gaze straight ahead measuring their steps to the door. “Well, I—”
    â€œKevin!” a voice called.
    They stopped and turned to see a woman racing down the hall. Dominique felt such gratitude for the interruption that she had to stop herself from running and giving the woman a hug.
    The older woman stopped in front of them. Up close Dominique noticed the brunette wig, lack of eyebrows and the woman’s puffy, round face, but the look of delight on her face made none of that important. “I’m so glad I got you before you left. You forgot your phone.”
    â€œOh thanks, Elizabeth,” Kevin said, taking the cell phone and putting it away. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned as if in pain. “I’m dying.”
    â€œWhy?”
    He turned his cheek to her and tapped it. “Because I haven’t been kissed by a beautiful woman today.”
    Elizabeth Kirkpatrick playfully hit him on the arm and giggled like a school girl. “You’re such a flirt.”
    Kevin’s face fell and he looked as pathetic as a puppy left out in the rain. “That means you won’t kiss me?”
    â€œIf I were thirty years younger and not married—”
    â€œYou’d still be beautiful.” He glanced down and picked up something off the ground Dominique couldn’t see. “Wow, look at that. Someone dropped this,” he said, handing it to the woman. “This must be