Loving Evangeline Read online

  Robert chuckled. He could hear in the background the din his two young nephews were making. “Had a busy day, honey?”

  “Robert!” Pleasure warmed her voice. “You might say that. Would you be interested in having your nephews for a prolonged visit?”

  “Not until they’re housebroken. I won’t be at home, anyway.”

  “Where are you off to this time?”

  “Huntsville, Alabama.”

  She paused. “It’s hot down there.”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “You might even sweat,” she warned him. “Think how upset you’d be.”

  His firm mouth twitched at the amusement in her voice. “That’s a chance I’ll have to take.”

  “It must be serious, then. Trouble?”

  “A few glitches.”

  “Take care.”

  “I will. If it looks as though I’ll be down there for any length of time, I’ll call you and give you my number.”

  “All right. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.” He smiled a bit as he hung up. It was typical of Madelyn that she hadn’t asked questions but had immediately sensed the seriousness of the situation awaiting him in Alabama. In six words she had given him her blessing, her support and her love. Though she was actually only his stepsister, the affection and understanding between them were as strong as if they had been connected by blood.

  Next he called the woman he had been escorting rather regularly lately, Valentina Lawrence. The relationship hadn’t progressed far enough that he would expect her to wait until his return, so the easiest thing for both of them was if he made it clear that she was free to see anyone she wished. It was a pity; Valentina was too popular to remain unattached for long, and he suspected he would be in Alabama for several weeks.

  She was just the sort of woman Robert had always been most attracted to: the thoroughbred racehorse type—tall, lean, small-breasted. Her makeup was always impeccable and understated, her clothing both stylish and tasteful. She had a genuinely pleasant personality, and enjoyed the theater and opera as much as he did. She would have been a wonderful companion, if this problem hadn’t interfered.

  It had been several months since he had ended his last relationship, and he was feeling restless. He much preferred living with a woman to living alone, though he was perfectly content with his own company. He deeply enjoyed women, both mentally and physically, and he normally preferred the steadiness of a long-term relationship. He didn’t do one-nighters and disdained those who were so stupid. He refrained from making love to a woman until she had committed herself to a relationship with him.

  Valentina accepted the news of his prolonged absence with grace; after all, they weren’t lovers and had no claim on each other. He could hear the gentle regret in her voice, but she didn’t ask him to call when he returned.

  That final piece of business concluded, he sat for several minutes, frowning as he allowed himself to think about the relationship that hadn’t quite developed into intimacy, and how long it would be before he had time to attend to the sexual part of his life again. He wasn’t pleased at the prospect of a long wait.

  He wasn’t casual about sex in any way. His intense sexuality was always under strict control; with the difference between a man’s strength and a woman’s, a man who wasn’t in control could easily brutalize a woman, something that disgusted him. He tempered both his sexual appetite and his steely strength, reining them in with the icy power of his intellect. He never pressured a woman, though he always made it clear when he was attracted, so she would know where she stood. But he let his lady set the pace, let the intimacy progress at her speed. He respected a woman’s natural caution about opening her tender, vulnerable body to a much bigger, stronger male. When it came to sex, he treated women gently and took his time so they could become fully aroused. Such control was no hardship; he could spend hours caressing soft, feminine skin and intriguing curves. Lingering over the lovemaking helped satisfy his own hunger, while intensifying his partner’s.

  There was nothing like making love that first time with a new partner, he mused. Never again was the experience so intense and hungry. He always tried to make it special for his lady, to make her feel special. He never stinted on the little details that made a woman feel treasured: romantic dinners for two, candlelight, champagne, thoughtful gifts, his complete attention. When the time finally came to retire to the bedroom, he would use all of his skill and control to satisfy her again and again before he allowed release for himself.

  Thinking about what the problem in Alabama was causing him to miss made him irritated.

  He was roused by a knock on his door. He looked up as Felice stuck her head in. “You should have gone home,” he reproved. “You didn’t have to stay.”

  “A messenger brought this envelope for you,” she said, approaching to place it on his desk. She ignored his comment. No matter how late, she seldom left before he did.

  “Go home,” he said calmly. “That’s an order. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Do you need anything before I go? A fresh pot of coffee?”

  “No, I won’t be staying much longer myself.”

  “Then have a good trip.” She smiled and left the room. He could hear her in the outer office gathering together her possessions and locking everything up for the night.

  He doubted that anything about the trip would be good. He was in a vengeful mood and out for blood.

  He noticed that the manila envelope had no return address. He opened it and slid several pages out. There was one grainy, photostated picture, a recap of the situation and what they already knew about it, and a brief message from Agent Brent, identifying the woman in the picture and informing Robert that the bureau would cooperate with him in all matters, which was only what he had expected.

  He picked up the reproduced photograph and studied it. It was of very poor quality, but pictured a woman standing on a dock, with motorboats in the background. So this was Evie Shaw. She was wearing sunglasses, so it was difficult to tell much about her, other than she had blondish, untidy hair and seemed to be rather hefty. No Mata Hari there, he thought, his fastidious taste offended by her poor choice of clothes and her general hayseed appearance. She looked more like a female mud wrestler, a coarse hick who was selling out her country for greed.

  Briskly he returned the papers to the envelope. He looked forward to bringing both Landon Mercer and Evie Shaw to justice.

  Chapter Two

  It was a typically hot, sultry Southern summer day. The sky overhead was a deep, rich blue, dotted with fat white clouds that lazily sailed along on a breeze so slight it barely rippled the lake’s surface. Gulls wheeled overhead and boats bobbed hypnotically in their slips. A few diehard fishermen and skiers dotted the water, ignoring the heat, but most of the fishermen who had gone out that morning had returned before noon. The air was heavy and humid, intensifying the odors of the lake and the surrounding lush, green mountains.

  Evangeline Shaw looked out over her domain from the big plate-glass windows at the rear of the main marina building. Everyone on earth needed his own kingdom, and hers was this sprawling skeletal maze of docks and boat slips. Nothing within these few square acres escaped her attention. Five years ago, when she had taken over, it had been run-down and barely paying expenses. A sizable bank loan had been required to give it the infusion of capital it had needed, but within a year she had had it spruced up, expanded and bringing in more money than it ever had before. Of course, it took more money to run it, but now the marina was making a nice profit. With any luck she would have the bank loan paid off in another three years. Then the marina would be completely hers, free and clear of debt, and she would be able to expand even more, as well as diversify her holdings. She only hoped business would hold up; the fishing trade had slacked off a lot, due to the Tennessee Valley Authority’s “weed management” program that had managed to kill most of the water plants that had harbored and protected the fish.

&n