CARROLLTON, NEW ORLEANS

“I have a problem.”

From Jade’s 13-inch laptop screen, Sammie’s face stared back at her. “Are we talking about a major problem? Or about how those shorts you’re wearing should have been thrown out in high school? And burned, definitely burned.”

Jade glanced down at her—admittedly—threadbare cotton shorts. “I’m in my apartment. No one can see me.”

“I can see you.”

“You don’t count,” Jade said. Gripping her hands around the broomstick, she eyed her kitchen objectively. The countertops glistened as much as old countertops possibly could. If she wanted, she could have eaten off the floor, the tiles were so squeaky clean. And, in a moment of self-induced panic, she’d even climbed up on a chair and scrubbed down the top of the fridge.

Simply put, Jade was stressed.

“Girl,” echoed Sammie’s familiar voice from the laptop’s speakers, “don’t you dare do another pass of the kitchen floor. Watching you clean is making me want to throw myself off the second floor of the house.”

“Mom will be pissed.”

Sammie snorted. “Are you kidding? Lucia Harper would be furious to know that I’d embarrassed her in front of the neighbors.”

Both sisters shared a knowing laugh. Their mother was nothing if not vocal about her opinions. “How is she?”

“Misses you, of course.”

Jade swallowed the lump of guilt budding in her throat. “I’ve only been gone a month,” she said, leaning the broom against the kitchen counter. She grabbed her laptop from the counter and brought Sammie with her to the living room, where she collapsed onto the couch with a heavy sigh. “A month isn’t that long.”

The are-you-serious look Sammie leveled on her was a heavy hitter. “She’s upset you haven’t called much.”

The lump grew larger, and Jade shifted in her seat. “I’ve been busy.”

“With your so-called ‘problem?’”

No one in the world knew Jade better than her younger sister. Growing up, she’d often figured it was because they were in each other’s way 24/7. Rita, the eldest, had been given the luxury of her own room while the younger Harper sisters camped out in the other bedroom in bunk beds. They’d shared a small bathroom—one toilet, one sink, no shower or bath—and had been both the biggest of enemies and the greatest of friends, depending on the day and the hour.

Sammie knew her, and because Sammie knew her, Jade didn’t even bother to lie.

“My problem’s a man.”

Sammie didn’t look all that shocked. “I’m assuming you’re not talking about John Thomas?”

A groan worked its way up Jade’s throat. “Definitely not John Thomas.” She thought of the four years she’d spent at John Thomas’ side, always wondering what it would be like for a relationship to be more. “I’m sure he’s moved on already. We haven’t spoken since I left.”

“Jade, he’s been at the house almost every other day.”

Her ears perked at that slice of knowledge. Her mind whirring with countless of scenarios, she said the only thing that made sense, “Why in the world would he be doing that? We’re over.”

Though the laptop screen was small, it didn’t hide the half-shrug and pitiful glance her sister gave her. “He wants you back, hermana. Him and Mom have been scheming.”

“Mom thinks I’m a lesbian.”

Sammie laughed. “No one thinks you’re a lesbian, Jade. Not Mom, not John Thomas. Everyone guessed pretty soon after that you were just using the excuse to skip town—which you totally were. I would have told you sooner but you’ve been screening my calls.”

“I—” Jade’s cheeks warmed at the lie that had been ready to trip off her tongue. “I’ve only been sort of screening them.”

“That’s like if I said that I had sort of eaten the flan in the fridge.”

Jade threw her hands in the air. “Okay! Okay. I have been, but it’s only because I wanted to prove that I can make it here on my own, without Mom always perched on my shoulder and Dad paving the path for me with his connections.” She drew in a deep, shaky breath. “I wanted to prove to myself that I can be just as successful as you and Rita.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of the leaky kitchen faucet drip-drip-dripping away. Jade felt that silence like a punch to the gut. She shouldn’t have said anything at all. It would have been best to keep her feelings on the matter to herself.

Because in the end, being unsuccessful was not something Sammie could possibly understand. At the age of twelve she’d taken up needle and thread. By fifteen, she’d started sewing prom gowns for the upperclassmen at Hialeah High. By seventeen, she’d been featured as one of the most up-and-coming designers in Miami.

And now, at twenty-two, she was on her way to completing a degree in fashion design and just months away from moving to New York City.

Jade hated feeling jealous of her sister’s achievements, especially when she was simply so proud of them. But just once she wanted to feel that blimp of success for herself. New Orleans should have done that for her, but since arriving in the Crescent City nothing seemed to go as planned.

“Jade.”

“I know, Sammie,” she answered quietly, “I know.”

“No,” her sister said firmly, “you don’t.”

“I think I—”

Sammie cut her off with a flash of her palm. “You should be glad there’s a computer screen in between us because otherwise I would slap you silly. Do you seriously think you’re not successful?”

Jade refused to feel pity for herself, so she spoke the truth. “I think I’ve always been pretty good at what other people tell me to do. Date John Thomas. Live at home. Go back to school for a better job.”

“You have a good job,” was Sammie’s wry response. “You’re not living at home, and you’re definitely not dating John Thomas.”

“Well, yeah, I’m not now.”

“You’re not now,” Sammie stated forcefully, “because you looked at your life and decided what you wanted. You wanted a new start and you had one delivered to you. You wanted a partner more interested in you than in what shoes he happens to be wearing that day, and I’m going to guess, mi hermana, that if you have a guy who’d you label as a ‘problem’ he’s more interested in you than in his shoes.”

Jade almost laughed. Because it was laughable. Danvers—no, Nathan—went out of his way for her. And had gone out of his way for her until she’d decided to psychoanalyze him like her degree was in studying people’s emotions and not digging through dirt and silt for shards of pottery.

What her Archaeology degree had provided her with, though, was an acute attention to detail. Something she’d recklessly discarded during their last meeting in an effort to protect herself. It was easier to point fingers than it was to recognize one’s own faults.

“I’m seeing that what I’m saying is sinking in,” Sammie murmured. “So, is he a problem?”

No. Well, maybe. Jade stuck her hands under her thighs to keep from fidgeting. “I think, maybe, that I might l—”

“Love him?” A hand flashed in front of Sammie’s face as she tilted the screen down. Then, all Jade saw were her sister’s narrowed eyes and the slope of a nose. “This is so exciting! I have to tell Rita. And Mom.”

“No!” Jade covered up her outburst with a well-timed cough. What was with everyone assuming that she was knee deep in a certain four-letter word? “No,” she repeated, this time in her indoor voice. “Don’t tell anyone. I like him, Sammie. That’s all.”

Her sister didn’t look convinced. “You love him.”

“It’s only been a month,” she said, going for the logical approach. “I dated John Thomas for four years. I know what love is.”

“Yes”—Sammie jabbed a finger at the screen—“exactly. You know what love is. You know you didn’t love John Thomas. And this feels different, right?”

Jade shifted on her hands uncomfortably. “Yes,” she muttered.

She really did not like the smug look of satisfaction on her sister’s face.

“So, if this feels different . . . then don’t you think it might be because you love him?”

“I really don’t think—”

The sound of a knock at the door cut off the rest of her frame of thought. She hadn’t been expecting company. Then again, it was a Saturday morning, a morning following a late evening out with the girls, and maybe Lizzie was here to apologize for throwing her into the arena with the wolves.

Satisfied by the prospect of demanding restitution in the form of pancakes or waffles, Jade told her sister to wait while she answered the door.

“If you’re wondering if I’ve forgiven you for last night, the answer is—Danvers! What are you doing here?”

The man responsible for her emotional turmoil stood on the opposite side of the doorway, wet hair plastered to his face and an equally wet shirt plastered to his chiseled chest. She could just make out the shadows of his flat nipples, as well as the ripples of his carved abs beneath the thin white cotton.

Feeling shaken to her core at the arresting sight of him, she met his amused gaze. “You’re wet,” she said dumbly.

He crooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Ran into a wet T-shirt contest on the way here.”

Her brain cells must have scattered at his unexpected presence because all she said was, “Really?”

“No.” His lips curved into a heady smile that did wonders to the fluttering mariposas in her belly. “It’s raining. But I’d be more than happy to hold a contest for just the two of us.” He took a step toward her, his big body forcing her back into her apartment. “What do you think of that?”

I think I’m down and ready to be naked and wet with you whenever you want.

Then, from the heart of the living room, Sammie’s voice shouted, “I think the problem has arrived!”

Nathan gave her a smoldering glance. With a shake of his head, water droplets went flying everywhere, landing on Jade’s exposed skin and giving her the chills. The grin he flashed her was all naughty sensuality before he stalked around her and toed off his dirty shoes.

“Do you have a visitor?” he asked, sinking to his haunches before the laptop.

“Yes, sort of.” Jade scurried around the coffee table to join him on his other side. As she passed behind him, she made a cutting gesture at her throat. Sammie only rolled her eyes.

“I’ve been Skyping with Sammie—”

He glanced at her, recognition flaring in his gray eyes. “Your sister. The younger one, right?”

Surprise warmed her at the realization that he’d remembered. “Yeah, the younger, more pain-in-my-behind one.”

“Hey!” snapped Sammie. “I take offense to that.”

“It was meant with only love,” Jade quipped, dropping her butt onto the couch. Her position granted her the view of the back of Nathan’s head and his thick head of hair. It was almost a shame for a man to have hair like that. He didn’t even bother to style it with anything besides his fingers. “Sammie, this is Nathan.”

If Nathan was at all surprised by her use of his first name, he didn’t show it at first. But then, outside of the peripheral view of the laptop camera, he slid his hand over her socked foot and gently squeezed.

“Nice to meet you, Sammie,” he said warmly.

Sammie, who’d never been one to mince her words, blurted, “So, you’re the problem?”

He turned to look at Jade over his shoulder. “I don’t know,” he murmured huskily, “am I?”

At the sound of Sammie’s howl of laughter, Jade dug her toes into the worn carpet. She clapped her hands together. “All right then!” Her foot slipped out from under Nathan’s big hand. “Time to go, si? Tell everyone hello for me.”

Sammie’s gaze was pure devilish humor. “Why don’t you just tell everyone yourself? Here they come. Ma! Papi—”

Jade didn’t wait to discover whether her sister was kidding. She shouted, “love you, talk later!” before ending the video call with a punch of her finger. There. Done.

It was so lovely to breathe normally again.

“Sorry about that.”

Leaning back against the sofa, Nathan twisted his upper body to face her. “I’m taking the problem comment as a compliment.”

“Oh,” she rushed to say, “you should.”

His fingers trailed up her calves, the ridges of her knee, then skated over her thigh until fingertips met the fabric of her cotton shorts. Jade squirmed in her seat. How was it that just a single touch of his hand had her heating up faster than an inferno?

Trying to regain control of her lust (because, Díos mío, it was definitely only lust), she moved to the corner of the couch and drew up her legs. His gray eyes watched her steadily, his mouth kicking up in a knowing grin when she said, “So, were you just in the neighborhood?”

“I wanted to see you.” He stood, knees popping as he straightened to his full, towering height. Yep, there was no hiding it: Nathan Danvers was one fine male specimen. Mouth twisting in wry self-deprecation, he added, “Unfortunately, N’Orleans decided to be N’Orleans and downpour when the forecast was for sun all day.”

Jade bit her lip to restrain a laugh. “I could offer you sweatpants.”

“Somehow,” he drawled silkily, “I don’t think your yoga pants are going to cut it.”

But what a sight it would be, she thought. “A towel?” she offered instead.

“That’d be fantastic.”

As she went to her supply closet and grabbed a fluffy towel—hot pink, because she simply couldn’t resist—she heard him moving about in the living room. When she returned, it was only for her mouth to drop open.

He was naked.

And, if she’d wondered at all if the cold rain had caused any shrinkage, the answer to that was a succinct “no.”

She hurled the terry cloth at his damp chest.

“Hot pink?” he said dryly as he nevertheless secured the towel around his lean hips. “Why do I get the feeling you chose this on purpose?”

“It suits your complexion.”

“Another compliment, Jade? Careful now, my head’s starting to swell.”

Jade pointedly glanced down to the pink towel settled around his hips. “Somehow, I don’t think it’d be the head on your shoulders doing the swelling.”

He grinned. Broadly. Wolfishly. “No?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, “it’d be your teeny tiny umbrella.”

Nathan launched into motion so fast she barely had time to squeak and run for the mountains.

Or, her kitchen, as the case may be.

She got as far as the stove before he caught her by the hips and tugged her into the warm, damp cage of his arms. A shudder worked down her spine and she instinctively reclined into his hold, the fight of the chase escaping her at the promise of having his hands on her body.

“Nathan,” she whispered, “what about the other night?”

He nudged her legs apart and dropped a kiss to her forehead. “I like the way you say my name.”

Somehow she found herself up on the kitchen counter, her legs wrapped around his hips, her hands tugging at his wet hair, her mouth parting under his and giving back twofold. Against the soft place between her legs, he rocked his not-so teeny tiny umbrella, drawing out moans from somewhere deep in her soul.

When she locked her ankles together and nipped at his lower lip, he bit out a grumbled curse and claimed her mouth in an all-consuming kiss.

“Is this what you came here for?” she asked against his mouth.

He drew back and touched his forehead to hers. “I’ve got a feeling this is one of those times where the man is never going to have a right answer.”

“There’s no right answer,” she said, her palms paving a path up his flat stomach.

“But there’s a wrong answer.” He caught her wrists and planted them on the counter behind her. Her new position shoved her breasts against his chest, and the dampness of his skin turned her nipples to hard buds. “Should we make it a game and see how I do?”

Jade couldn’t help but laugh at the hopeful note in his voice. “You like your games.”

Gray eyes flicked up to her face. “I like games when my prize is you.”

Oh. Oh. She thanked God that she didn’t have a mirror, and so couldn’t see the dopey smile she knew had worked itself onto her face. Her nails scraped against the countertop when she shifted her hips to better cradle him.

“That was a good answer,” she told him.

“But was it the right one?” Nathan released his grip on her wrists to comb his fingers through her loose hair. “I’m sorry about the other night.”

At the unexpected statement, Jade blurted, “Why are you sorry? I’m the one who went on the speech tirade.”

“You were right,” he said bluntly, his gaze tracing the lines of her face, “About everything.”

If he’d expected her to jump up and down with joy, pumping her fists into the air to hear him say the words, he was dead wrong. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It wasn’t my place.”

“I needed to hear it. Maybe I didn’t want to hear it, but I needed it.” He offered her a small smile. “I don’t let in people easily. Honestly, I can probably count on one hand the number of people who know everything . . . and even then that number is skewed.” His smile turned self-deprecating when he added, “You may have noticed that I have a bad habit of evading topics that stray a little too close to home.”

Jade bit her lip. “I may have.”

“I’m probably the worst with my family.”

Cradled up on the countertop against his body had created an air of safety about them, as though a truce had been formed. She didn’t want to break that truce. She definitely did not want to send him back to that dark place from the other night. But . . . “Do you think, maybe, they simply thought you were okay?”

“What do you mean?”

She wasn’t sure she could have this conversation with him in just a hot-pink towel. Jade pushed at his chest with the flat of her hand, jumping down from the kitchen counter when he fell back a step.

The towel had loosened, so that his sharp hips bones were on open display . . . as well as the thin happy trail ducking under the terry cloth like an arrow pointing toward heaven.

Her version of heaven, anyway.

Carefully, she mulled over her choice of words. “Maybe they don’t think to ask you anything because you give off this carefree vibe. Maybe that’s what you want them to see of you.”

His brows furrowed into a deep V. “You saw beyond that.”

Yes, she had, and she still wasn’t quite so certain how. “Maybe you were blinded with lust when it comes to me.”

“I’ve been blinded by lust before and I never said anything then.”

Jade choked out awkward laughter. “You need work on your complimenting game. I rate you a C for effort but a D-minus on execution.”

“Not what I mean.” He stalked toward her, the hot-pink terry cloth threatening to slip loose from his hips and show the world what Nathan Danvers was made of. “This between us is more than just lust. I don’t know what the hell it is, if you want blunt honesty, but I’ve never once looked at a person and saw both a friend and a lover. I’ve never once looked at someone and felt their joy like it was my own.”

Was it love? The thought froze Jade in her spot, making her helpless to defend herself when he closed in and snared her with the unnamed emotion in his slate-hued gaze.

She felt shook-up all the way down to her core.

His words weren’t a declaration of love—not even close—but what did it say about Jade that they were perhaps the most romantic words she’d ever received?

Head still whirring at that pitiful revelation, Jade could only listen in silence as he continued.

“I’ve been thinking hard about what you said and you’re right. I don’t know when to ask for help. Never have. But I’m asking right now.”

The fog in her brain cleared, just slightly. Enough to know that she was missing something integral here. “Wait, what are you asking me for help with?”

He met her gaze unflinchingly. “The Zeker case.”

“The Zeker . . . I don’t understand. I’m not a homicide detective.”

Nathan shook his head. “I don’t need you to be one. I need you to do exactly what you do.”

Jade twisted away, aimlessly moving about her small living room. “Nathan, what I do is find evidence. I don’t analyze the evidence. I take photos and dig around under houses to make sure that stray strands of hair aren’t there.” She stopped to stare at him. “Díos mío, I count shell cases and store them in plastic baggies.”

He seemed to realize that she needed space to think. With his arms crossed over his naked chest, he looked nothing at all like the man she’d met that first night at his mother’s house. There was no hint of joviality lining his expression as he waited her out.

He was . . . serious about this.

“Danvers—”

“Nathan,” he corrected instantly.

She flushed. “Nathan,” she began anew, “what am I going to tell my boss? I can’t be just . . . ” Trailing off, she waved her arms about in the air wordlessly. Desperately.

This time, he closed the distance between them in a matter of three quick strides, halting two feet from her. His near proximity forced her to tilt back her chin to meet his imploring gaze. “I’m not asking you to compromise your job, Jade. I would never do that. What I’m asking you to do is to help me save mine.”