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so you can go have a girls’ day?” she asked.
    “Come on, Eve. The invitation came from Kyleene Brock. I’ve been trying to make friends with her for months now.”
    Eve rolled her eyes. “No, you’ve been trying to get close to her brother for months now,” she retorted.
    “Same thing.” Lyrica waved the protest away. “If I have to back out because of breakfast, then it’s going to be just horrible.”
    “Just horrible, huh?” Eve tucked her feet up in the chair and knew she was just making her sister wait before giving in to her. Because she knew she was going to do it.
    Lyrica had had a crush on Graham Brock for years. She’d been plotting just as long to get into that inner circle of friends Kyleene was so careful before making.
    As one of the larger land owners in the area, and one of the few influential bachelors since the Mackay cousins’ marriages, Graham was well sought after. Because of his popularity, Kyleene was extremely careful of the friends she made.
    “Come on, Eve, please,” her sister asked again, this time quietly, and with much more restraint. “Kyleene has invited all of us back to the house for a late lunch after we’re finished at the spa, and Graham is home on leave.”
    Graham was serving his second tour in the Middle East, and Eve knew her sister had been watching for him to come home for months.
    “Fine,” Eve agreed impatiently. “I’ll do it. But you owe me big-time, Lyrica.”
    “Oh, my God, Eve, thank you so much.” Lyrica jumped across the short distance, reached into the chair, and wrapped her arms around Eve’s neck tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
    Drawing back, Lyrica threw her fist into the air in a silent victory shout before gripping the porch post and pulling herself up the railing again.
    “You can use my door to get to the stairs, Lyrica.” Eve laughed quietly. “You don’t have to risk life and limb climbing like a damned monkey.”
    “Where’s the fun in that? Love you, Eve.” Her sister blew her a swift kiss before her gaze swung to the side of Eve’s patio door. “Morning, Mr. Campbell, I hope we didn’t wake you.”
    Eve tensed with a silent groan of frustration.
    “Not hardly, Ms. Mackay,” he drawled. The spicy sweet scent of his cigar reached her nostrils and had her body reacting to the sensual smell.
    She pretended to hate the scent of it, but during those times when she forced herself to be honest, Eve admitted, to herself anyway, that the evocative scent would always be associated with wanting this man.
    “Night, sis,” Lyrica whispered again before gripping the post and hauling herself up as she used her feet to push herself the short distance to allow her to grab hold of the railing overhead and pull herself up.
    “That girl’s related to apes, or she’s missing a hell of a career in the circus.” Brogan chuckled as she disappeared over the upper balcony railing.
    “Probably a little of both,” Eve agreed, swallowing nervously as he moved to the railing in front of her, where Lyrica had stood moments before.
    “She knew you’d agree,” he drawled, clenching the slim cigar between his teeth for a moment before removing it and holding it negligently between his thumb and forefinger as he tapped the ash from the tip.
    “She probably did.”
    “Graham Brock’s too old for her.” He frowned at the sound of the door closing above. “If he even deigned to notice her, he’d break her heart and grind it in the dust without realizing it.”
    Eve sighed heavily. “You can’t convince her of that.”
    For a moment, she thought he’d say something more before he brought the cigar to his lips and muttered something that sounded strangely like, “Someone needs to talk to him ’bout that.”
    “Let it alone,” Eve warned him. “If everyone keeps padding her falls she’ll never learn how to handle the bruises.”
    Eve watched him carefully, as if he were a wild animal that could attack at any moment.
    Or