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idly scanning the museum-quality crystals. He might have been fascinated by the huge amethyst geode with its sparkly purple interior, but Maggie thought it more likely that he’d chosen that spot because it was near the large front window. On the other side, faces and cameras pressed against the glass. She wondered why they hadn’t followed him inside, until she looked at the front door. Two large men blocked it. From their long hair, tattoos, and bulging muscles, she guessed they were more pro wrestling dropouts.
    Rafe didn’t turn, even though he had to know she was there—her footsteps were loud in the sudden silence. She realized with chagrin that the three women shoppers who stopped their excited whispering when she entered the room had probably recognized her from the tabloid photos. She glanced over her shoulder. They huddled together, staring, awaiting the next installment in the drama.
    Rafe waited to turn until they were right behind him. Maggie enjoyed a tingle of anticipation, hoping to see a gigantic swollen nose, swaddled in gauze and taped in place. Maybe his eyes would be glazed by massive doses of painkillers, purple bruises blooming below them. She was almost smiling as he turned.
    She looked at near perfection—wavy black hair, artificially tanned skin perfectly complementing his tailored pale yellow shirt. And a perfectly straight nose that was only slightly wider than usual. Her smile crashed.
    Rafe flashed his teeth in a predatory smile and reached for her hand. “Hello, Maggie.”
    She stuck her hand behind her back. “Why isn’t your nose broken? I thought I broke it.”
    The smile became strained but stayed in place—playing for the audience. As she waited, he glanced over her shoulder, winked, and nodded. Giggles carried across the room. The press would undoubtedly get three excited accounts of his incredible charm when he dropped by the store to see her. Chances were she wouldn’t come off as well.
    He finally graced her with his phony smile, speaking through gritted teeth. “I don’t think you want to talk about your unfortunate lapse in judgment, Maggie. You should just be grateful that I’m willing to make this look good for both of us.” Raising his voice, he announced loudly enough for the women to overhear, “Those bug fossils are pretty cool. I might be interested in buying one.”
    “They’re not bugs; they’re trilobites.”
    “Whatever. How much is the big one?”
    George. As if she’d let Rafe touch him. “Thirty thousand. Unfortunately, I just sold it this morning.” She tried not to get sick over the lost income; he probably would have paid it without blinking.
    His mouth twitched as he forced it into a polite smile. “Too bad,” he said, then lowered his voice to a quiet rumble. “We need to talk.” His gaze settled on Cal as if he’d discovered a clod of mud on his shoe. “Alone.”
    “No.” She and Cal said it together.
    Rafe looked Cal up and down, from his ordinary brown hair to his cowboy boots. From across the room it might have looked like he smiled, but up close it was more of a condescending sneer. “This must be the boyfriend.”
    “That’s right,” Cal said. Maggie frowned and opened her mouth to protest, but he spoke over her. “And I’m not about to leave her alone with you.” Like Rafe, Cal kept his voice so low that she doubted the three ladies could hear.
    Rafe took several seconds to assess Cal, head cocked. “That’s not going to work, cowboy. How will the press think she’s making up with me if you’re standing right there?”
    “That’s your problem,” Cal told him.
    Rafe seemed to find it amusing. “Afraid I’ll steal her from you?”
    Cal gave a disinterested snort. “A spoiled piece of TV trash like you? Don’t make me laugh.”
    Rafe’s smile disappeared.
    She had to give Cal credit for backing her up even when he thought she was doing the wrong thing. But pushing him into losing his temper in front of all those