Tate stood in front of the full-length mirror and studied her reflection critically. She had already changed four times and had passed the point of being exasperated with herself. This was Evan, she reminded herself. If she hadn’t impressed her by now, nothing she wore or did or said tonight would make a damn bit of difference.
But she knew this evening was important to Evan and she wanted to do her part in making their date perfect. So in the end, she chose her current version of the little black dress she’d worn the night they’d met.
As her thoughts turned to Evan, she wondered where she was and what she was doing. Alex and Nick had picked her up earlier in the day. When she’d questioned where they were taking her, Alex had rolled his eyes.
“You’d think the girl would have something nice to wear on a date, wouldn’t you? Preferably something between Versace and US Navy issue.”
“You’re taking her shopping?” Tate’s eyes had widened and she’d tried hard not to laugh. She could only imagine what it had taken for Alex to convince his sister to go shopping, knowing how much Evan hated to shop.
And while she acknowledged Alex had impeccable taste when it came to women’s fashions—he had, after all, taken her shopping on a number of occasions—Tate didn’t think it would matter what Evan wore. From jeans and T-shirts to dress whites to Alexander McQueen originals, Evan Kane would always walk into any room and easily be the most compelling woman there.
Of course, that was only her opinion. But since she was Evan’s date, it was the only opinion that counted.
The doorbell interrupted her musings. Adding a last-second dab of perfume and inhaling deeply to calm her curiously unsteady nerves, she made her way to the front door and opened it. Tate immediately felt her mouth go dry.
Evan stood there, slender and elegant in unrelenting black, from the light silk jacket and matching slacks to the thin camisole that hugged her body. She held out a single red rose before leaning in and pressing a delicate kiss on Tate’s lips.
“Hi,” she said softly as she pulled away. “You look beautiful.”
Taking the flower, Tate pressed the petals to her lips as she met Evan’s eyes. “Thanks. I…” She had to stop for a moment. “It’s beautiful. You look amazing.”
“Alex and Nick.” Evan smiled and shrugged nonchalantly, then held out her hand. “Thanks. Shall we?”
Tate nodded. “Let me put this in water, and then absolutely.”
*
Harbor House Inn was a charming fishing captain’s estate perched near the mouth of the harbor. Since moving to the island, Tate had developed something of a friendship with the two women who owned the inn, and she was looking forward to introducing Evan to them.
Evan, she believed, needed those connections. Needed to be connected to friends, to the community, and to the island. It would help her feel more grounded, and just maybe, it would help reassure her that this was where she was meant to sink roots.
“Randi and Grace have an amazing kitchen,” Tate remarked as they walked hand in hand toward the front entrance.
“Oh?”
“I’m talking fresh Dungeness crab, Penn Cove mussels, and they also do an incredible cedar plank salmon. And for dessert, they have a crème brûlée that can make you weep.”
Evan grinned. “I’m thinking you’ll have to order for both of us.”
Tate laughed, but before she could respond she heard someone call out her name and saw a familiar face fast approaching. White teeth flashed in a wide smile as the woman took hold of her hand and drew her closer before kissing her lightly on both cheeks.
“Tate, you look absolutely wonderful. In fact, I think you’re glowing. What have you been doing with yourself? I saw Alex at the market yesterday and he told me you had dinner reservations for tonight, but I checked the book and couldn’t find your name. I figured he had to be mistaken.”
“That’s because the reservation wasn’t in Tate’s name. It was in mine.” Evan smiled faintly. “I’m Evan—”
“Kane. You could only be Alex’s sister. You’re the spitting image of him, right down to those delicious dimples. But then you’re twins, aren’t you?”
Releasing Tate, she took Evan’s hand and shook it enthusiastically, the smile on her handsome face widening. “I’m Miranda Taylor, Randi to my friends and one of the owners of Harbor House. I’ll be your hostess for this evening. I have to tell you, I was hoping to meet you sooner rather than later. Alex has done nothing but talk about you, never more so than since he found out you were…”
Still alive?
The words remained unsaid and Randi stopped abruptly before Tate could intervene. It was as if she suddenly realized the conversation had taken a turn down a dangerous path. Her dark-chocolate eyes closed for a brief instant, and she shook her head. “Forgive me. My wife will tell you that sometimes my mouth gets the better of me. Gracie was an army medic in Iraq, and I couldn’t be happier now that she’s home for good and I don’t have to worry about her all the time.”
Evan flushed. “It’s all right.”
“Please understand. Grace and I got to know Alex and Nick quite well when they first joined our community, and more recently we’ve started getting to know Tate. They had a difficult time of it when they thought they’d lost you, and I sometimes think what they went through brought back all the fears I had for Grace. But we couldn’t be happier knowing you’ve come home. That you’re here safe with Tate.” Randi’s eyes skimmed along Evan’s length speculatively. “Tell me, do you play softball, Evan?”
“She’ll stop talking eventually,” a new, much softer voice interrupted dryly. Turning, Tate saw Grace Taylor approaching them from the dining room. Quiet and fair, she was the polar opposite of the dark and gregarious Randi in every way.
“I’m Grace Taylor,” she said to Evan, her hand soft but strong. “Welcome to Harbor House. Now let me get you settled and get a drink in your hands. I’m thinking champagne is in order. I’ll send some over on the house. And Tate, you might want to keep a close eye on your date. We’re expecting a full house tonight.”
Evan glanced over quizzically, but as Tate caught Grace’s wink, her throat tightened with suppressed laughter and she was unable to respond. She knew Harbor House always drew a crowd, especially on weekends when they brought in live entertainment and there was dancing. Tonight was no exception.
Much as Grace had indicated, the room was already more than three quarters filled, mostly with women. And then she thought of Evan unleashing that sexy smile—the one that lit up her eyes and caused women from eighteen to eighty to fall under her spell.
It was going to be a very interesting evening.
Momentarily concerned Evan wouldn’t feel comfortable with so much attention and feeling somewhat possessive, Tate reached for her hand and gave it a quick tug. But Evan had quite clearly taken the lessons she’d been taught at Althea Kane’s knee to heart. She continued to hold Tate’s hand as she moved easily through the crowded room and appeared oblivious to any attention she was garnering.
Thanking Grace once they reached their table, she held out a chair for Tate then took her own seat across from her. Tate suppressed a laugh but swore she heard sighs from the women seated closest to them.
Their table was by the window and offered iconic coastal and mountain views, but Evan looked only at her. There was something different in the way Evan’s gaze played over her and as she smiled, Tate let herself bask in the warmth and affection she saw and felt.
They were interrupted briefly when a waiter appeared with the champagne Grace had promised. Evan watched silently while he placed the bucket beside the table, opened the bottle, and filled their glasses. Once he was gone, she handed a glass to Tate before reaching for her own glass and raising it.
“I believe a toast is in order—to our first date,” she said, then added softly, “I’d like to toast what I believe will be the first date of many.”
It’s not a one-night stand. I’d like to think of this simply as the first night of many.
Tate heard the echo of the words Evan had spoken after their first night together and felt her heart skip a beat, driving every other thought from her mind.
*
True to her word, Tate chose their meal while Evan made their selection from the inn’s rather eclectic wine cellar. Although Evan barely noticed her food and drink, the date was perfect and exactly what she wanted.
To talk and laugh with Tate as they had in the past. To remind herself of what her life had been like. And to set the tone for what life would be like as she moved beyond Afghanistan and Khalid.
Eventually a group of local musicians set up in one corner and music began to fill the night air, enticing numerous couples onto the small dance floor. It had been a long time since she had been dancing, but Evan was already feeling the music. The rhythm and the sultry beat. The heat. It felt so good.
Her body humming with fierce energy, she reached for Tate’s hand, brought it to her lips. “Dance with me,” she said as she drew Tate to her feet and steered her toward the crowded dance floor.
Tate laughed, probably as much from surprise as uncertainty. “If you remember, I’m not much of a dancer. And I’m most certainly not in your league.”
“I don’t believe the band’s going to break into a tango anytime soon,” Evan teased her with a smile. “And you’ve always worried too much. Anyone can dance. You just have to let yourself feel the music.” Not giving her the chance to resist any further, Evan pulled Tate into her arms and held her motionless for an instant as their eyes met. Tate laughed again, more relaxed this time, and when Evan began to pull her farther onto the dance floor, she followed her lead with a loose-limbed grace.
That was all it took. Evan was instantly bombarded with sensations. Tate’s subtle scent was like inhaling a tropical forest. Cool and inviting. The swell of Tate’s breasts pressed against thin silk sent delicious chills along her spine. And the heat radiating from Tate’s body everywhere it brushed against her was pure promise. It made her heart pound and her blood boil.
She raised her hand and brushed the back of her fingers against Tate’s cheek before sliding them down toward the pulse beating visibly in her throat. And then in a move driven by instinct, she allowed her senses to be inspired by both the music and the woman.
She moved her hands to Tate’s waist and slowly began to move her hips. The people crowding around her disappeared, and as their bodies swayed sensuously close, she transformed her movements into something so much more than dancing.
Just as the band moved effortlessly from one song to the next, she knew the moment Tate felt the change. Knew the moment she became aware Evan’s moves had shifted into something suggestive and arousing and infinitely more intimate. She stumbled briefly and locked eyes with her, but gamely continued to follow her lead.
They remained on the dance floor until the band took a break. By then Evan’s leg was starting to ache, but she wouldn’t have missed dancing with Tate for anything. Except maybe getting her home, where she could peel off Tate’s dress and devour every inch of smooth skin with her mouth.
Tate pressed her face against Evan’s shoulder, catching her breath. “That was unbelievably…hot,” she said. “Why don’t you get yourself a drink while I go freshen up?”
Drawn out of her thoughts, Evan raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to ply me with wine so you can have your way with me?”
Tate tilted her head back slightly and gave her a wicked grin. “Is it working?”
“Actually, forget the wine. You can have your way with me anytime.” She grinned back and pushed away a lock of hair that was clinging to the heated dampness on Tate’s face. “Can I get you something from the bar?”
“I think ice water would be great right about now,” Tate responded. “And try not to let any of these women steal you away. I have plans for later which involve your active participation.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way—”
Tate’s mouth was on hers before she could finish. “I can feel you wanting me. Do you have any idea what that does to me?” she whispered and then she was gone.
Tate was still thinking only about the lingering taste of Evan’s mouth. Enthralled, her body and mind in a different place and time, she was only vaguely aware of someone calling out to her.
“Tate? Tate McKenna?”
Tate looked up and frowned as a woman stopped in front of her. An instant later she broke into a smile. “Oh my God, Kelsey. I’m so glad to see you. I didn’t think you were due in until sometime next week.”
“I wasn’t, but you can thank Robert Kane for my being home early.”
“Robert Kane? Evan’s father?”
“None other.” Kelsey nodded happily. “He came through and arranged to fly me home yesterday in a private jet, rather than the military transport I was scheduled to take next week. Talk about a different kind of flying experience.”
“I know what you mean. That’s how we came home as well. But—”
“He said it was just a small token of his appreciation for my part in taking care of Evan. I tried to tell him it was a team effort and I was just doing my job, but he said Evan insisted on it.”
Tate couldn’t hide her surprise. “Evan?”
“Yeah, you remember Evan, don’t you? Tall, dark hair, gray eyes? Navy pilot? She and her father made it possible for me to come home early and surprise Jenna.”
Kelsey’s smile widened as a striking woman with close-cropped prematurely silver hair, a youthful face, and pale blue eyes approached them. “Perfect timing. Tate, this lovely lady is my partner, Jenna.”
Jenna smiled warmly as she held out her hand. “Kelsey has told me about you and Evan. Dare I hope she’s here with you tonight? I’d love to meet her and thank her in person for helping to bring Kelsey home in style.”
“Of course. We came for dinner earlier and stayed for the dancing. I was just heading back to our table.”
Jenna’s smile wavered. “I don’t want to intrude on your evening. I can always meet her some other time.”
“Don’t be silly. Evan has been looking forward to meeting you, and I know she’ll be thrilled to see Kelsey again. Come and join us for a drink. Please.”
“If you’re sure—”
“Absolutely.”
“How’s she doing, Tate?”
She considered Kelsey’s question for a moment. “Physically, I’d say she’s doing great. I can tell when her leg bothers her, not that she’d ever admit it. But it’s not as often and the physiotherapist she’s been working with has been terrific. He finally gave her the go-ahead to start running again this week.”
“That’s good to hear,” Kelsey said gently. “Now what aren’t you telling me?”
Tate sighed. “She’s still much too thin. She used to have a healthy appetite, and I know she’s trying, but some days it’s a challenge getting her to eat.”
“What else?”
“She’s still having nightmares. She’s also been having flashbacks, at least a couple that I’m aware of, where she’s convinced she’s seen Khalid. The most recent was just yesterday while she was running.”
“The bastard who tortured her?” Kelsey’s temper visibly flared before Jenna casually placed a hand on her arm. “Sorry.”
“That’s not all,” Tate said. “The deeper problem is there’s a real chance Evan’s not having flashbacks. There’s a real chance Khalid’s actually here in Washington.”
“How’s that possible?”
Tate briefly explained, before adding, “The situation’s left Evan uncertain whether she’s having flashbacks or seeing Khalid for real.”
“Maybe I can help her,” Jenna offered.
“I sure hope so, since we were planning on contacting you on Monday,” Tate responded with a wry smile. “But enough serious talk for the evening. Come on, Evan’s probably wondering where I’ve gotten to, and it’s really not safe to leave her alone this long in a room filled with single women.”
Kelsey grinned and Tate knew she’d caught her first glimpse of Evan. “After meeting Alex, I had a pretty good idea what she probably looked like underneath all those cuts and bruises, but she cleaned up nicely, don’t you think?”
Tate snorted and Jenna rolled her eyes.
They were still laughing until just before they reached Evan, when Tate stopped, suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling that everything was far from all right. Evan, she noted with concern, appeared to be leaning heavily on the table, gripping it with one hand and looking as if she needed it to keep herself upright. There was no light or warmth in her face. Instead she seemed distant and unfocused.
Something tightened in Tate’s chest and she stepped forward quickly. Resting her hand on Evan’s shoulder, she immediately felt the tension in the tightly coiled muscles. “Evan, what is it? What’s wrong?”
She glanced at a man standing much too close to Evan. But before she could think to ask him who he was and what he wanted, Evan slowly turned toward her and released a weary sounding breath.
“Tate, this is John Anderson. It seems he wants to talk to me about his son.” Evan swallowed. “Khalid.”
Silence, as thick and palpable as the tension radiating from Evan’s body, swallowed the air around them.
John Anderson was a big man with blunt-edged features and deep-set dark eyes. His wide shoulders blocked Tate’s view of the room as he extended a large, powerful-looking hand. But his handshake was gentle in spite of the callused skin.
Shaking off the frisson of unease and the sharp bite of anger that accompanied it, Tate met his gaze. “What’s this about, Mr. Anderson?”
“I realize I’m intruding on your evening, and I apologize, but I’d been debating whether or not to talk to Commander Kane. When I recognized her in the parking lot, it helped me decide.” Anderson’s next words were all but impossible to hear as the band returned for another set. “Perhaps we could continue this discussion somewhere quieter so we can talk without having to shout.”
Evan pushed her chair away from the table and rose on unsteady legs. “Let’s go.”
“Whoa, there. Easy.” Tate reached for her hand.
Evan stopped, realizing she had no idea where they would find some privacy. But she needn’t have worried. Tate took over, leading them to a small library situated just off the inn’s main lobby.
On some level, she acknowledged Kelsey’s presence. She and the woman with her appeared reluctant to leave but looked equally uncertain about staying. Tate resolved their dilemma by indicating they should come with them.
“I’ll get to the point so you can get back to enjoying the rest of your evening, Commander Kane.” Anderson’s voice was soft and graveled, but Evan was certain she could hear New England roots in his words, regardless of how much time he had spent living in the Pacific Northwest.
“It’s Evan.” She was aware her breathing had become shallow. Christ, you sound as if you’re coming undone. Almost as quickly, she felt Tate squeeze her hand, linking their fingers and calming her with her touch.
Anderson nodded stiffly. The muscles in his face tightened and something flickered in his eyes. Discomfort, maybe.
“I thought you should know the FBI came to see me a few days ago,” he said a moment later. “Asking me about my son. They said John’s the subject of an international manhunt. That he killed a CIA agent near Kabul. And more recently, they suspect he took part in firebombing a church in Vancouver.”
That brought her up short. Blowing out a lungful of air, Evan noted his blank expression hadn’t changed with the telling, not even a fraction. “What does that have to do with me?”
“I’m coming to that. The FBI told me things got too hot for John in Afghanistan. They know he left about a month ago, but they lost track of him and they suspect he’s made his way back into the US. They wanted to know if I’d heard from him. I guess whoever did their background search didn’t let them know I’m about the last person John should come to for help.”
“Why is that, Mr. Anderson?”
“It’s what I told the boy the last time I saw him, after he got into trouble for hurting that girl. I told him he was no son of mine and not to come back anymore because I had no home for the likes of him.”
Evan frowned. “I’m still not clear what any of this has to do with me.”
“I know who you are, Commander Kane.” He emphasized her rank and her name as he studied her. “I read the story in the papers and the two FBI agents filled in a lot of the blanks.”
“What exactly does that mean?”
Anderson shrugged but seemed genuinely distressed. “They wanted me to know John was still up to no good, so I wouldn’t be inclined to help him. They knew all about what the boy did to that pretty little girl in Portland. The navy ensign. And they wanted me to know he was up to his old tricks. Still cutting girls up, only this time it was some downed navy pilot in Afghanistan. I put two and two together, Commander. I’m sorry for what the boy did.”
Evan closed her eyes and reached down to lightly massage her throbbing knee while the cuts on her back suddenly burned. “Thank you, Mr. Anderson, but I need neither your apology nor your sympathy. It’s not yours to own. You’re not responsible for Khalid.”
“Khalid—is that really the name he’s using?” He gave her a level look. “No matter. I may not be responsible for the boy, but I can see quite clearly he still lacks any kind of moral center, and no matter what I tried, I couldn’t change that in him. That’s my failure. I don’t hold for torturing women and I felt I owed it to you to warn you.”
“Warn her?” Tate interrupted. “Are you threatening Evan, Mr. Anderson?”
“Not at all,” he answered quickly and Evan marveled at his neutral tone. “I may not have seen John since he was eighteen, but you need to know I recently heard from him.”
“You spoke to him?”
Anderson shook his head. “He left a message on my machine a couple of days ago. He wanted me to know he was back in the area. Said he had some unfinished business to take care of, and if I was interested in seeing him after he was done, I should leave the porch light on.”
He ran a hand through his thinning hair and then said calmly, “In case you’re wondering, Commander, I smashed the bulb. I didn’t want to leave the light on by accident.”
Evan knew a bleak moment of despair. “Have you told the FBI any of this? About the call and Khalid’s message?”
“No, I’m sorry to say I haven’t. I couldn’t do it. The boy’s not right in the head, but I guess there’s a part of me that still thinks of him as my son.” He stopped himself and let out a breath. “But after thinking about what he said, I knew I couldn’t stand by and just let it happen. I felt I owed it to you to warn you. He’s hurt enough people and it has to stop. Before he hurts you again. Or worse.”