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all the time, both in her store and as part of the nightlife at the big ski resorts. Most didn’t attract reporters the way Rafe De Luca did, but they were never truly anonymous, and never truly alone. She knew that. So how come this cop from Oklahoma had anticipated the overblown media reaction and known how to handle it?
    She faced him, hands on hips. “How’d you know the tabloids would be all over this?”
    “Are you kidding? Haven’t you ever watched Trust Fund Brats ?”
    “No.”
    He snorted. “You must be the only one. The show has all these twenty- and thirty-something rich kids who have grown up never knowing what anything costs because everything was always given to them. Then they give them a limited budget and a task, like feeding a family of four for a week, or fixing a leaky faucet, and watch them try to cope. America loves to see the rich people screw up the stuff we all deal with every day.”
    She wasn’t sure she’d call an hour of Rafe De Luca making a fool of himself entertainment, but she took his word for it. “So he’s popular.”
    Cal gave her a condescending smile. “It’s not that simple. De Luca’s good-looking, and outrageous in his excesses. Women fall all over themselves to be with him. He’s the guy we all love to hate. Perfect headline material. I’ve followed him around long enough to know he’s a paparazzi favorite. No matter where he is, cameras are never more than a few yards away.”
    She’d had a demonstration of that two nights ago. Pacing again, she told him, “Their lawyer was here yesterday. You were right—they want to put a pretty spin on the whole thing and say Rafe and I had a lovers’ quarrel.”
    “Perfect. Go along with it, and in a couple days you’re old news. It’s over.”
    She shot him a hard look. “That’s not gonna happen.”
    He rolled his eyes upward. “Somehow I’m not surprised.”
    “What I need to know is, what’s their next move? You seem to understand how Rafe’s narrow little mind works, so maybe you can tell me what I should do to head him off.”
    He faked a startled expression. “Are you saying you might actually follow my advice?”
    Maggie gave him an evil squint. “Don’t you dare make fun—” She broke off as her sales assistant, Holly, poked her head through the doorway and made a loud “pssst” sound. “What is it?”
    Holly nodded her head meaningfully toward the front of the store. “There’s, uh, someone here asking to see you.”
    “Can you handle it? I’m kind of busy.”
    “I think you better come.” Her eyes went wide and she mouthed the rest as if it were top-secret information. “It’s Rafe De Luca.”
    Maggie’s mind froze up again. She looked at Cal. His casual pose disappeared as he crossed the room to her side. She smiled gamely. “I guess I’ll go find out what Rafe’s next move is.”
    “Not alone.”
    “I thought you didn’t want to draw attention to yourself. Besides, he’s not going to hurt me.” She clenched her jaw. “And I promise not to hurt him.”
    She started forward, but he clamped a hand around her arm. “Damn it, Maggie, you’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. I said you’re not going out there alone.”
    She opened her mouth to snap out a nasty retort, then noticed the tight creases at the corners of his eyes and the drawn line of his brows. He was worried. She had a feeling that Cal Drummond didn’t worry without a darn good reason.
    She gave him a cautious nod. “Okay, we go together.”
    His grip didn’t relax. “And I won’t tell you what to say, because I might as well be talking to the walls, but please . . .” He closed his eyes as if offering up a prayer that had little hope of being answered. “Think before you talk.” Before she could object, he moved his hand to her back and guided her past Holly, sauntering into the front of the store like he owned the place.
    Rafe stood by the rock and mineral display, hands clasped behind his back,