10. Eva

10

EVA

" Y ou knocked him out!" Eva exclaimed, abandoning her pilfered papers to ensure that Margo hadn't killed the poor man.

The man who had filled the doorway with his horrifying—and yet oddly not at all horrifying—form lay stretched out face down on the floor with the broken parts of the popcorn machine all around him. Eva tried in vain to turn him over to assess him for injury. He'd have a headache, for sure.

"Well, you weren't willing to leave, and I couldn't exactly fight him and football carry you out of here at the same time," Margo snarled back. "You're slippery!"

Despite the gravity of the moment—they'd just been caught red-handed in the act of trespassing and attempted theft and knocked out some poor brute wearing a Wilson Kinetics badge—Eva's brain got stuck on the idea of what, exactly, was slippery right now.

She shook her head. "You don't understand," she wailed. "This isn't your problem. "

"It could be," Margo insisted. "If you'd trust your friends. "

Friends.

Kissing friends? Eva's lips still burned with need but neither of them seemed willing to speak of it. Did Margo regret it?

Eva gave up trying to roll the man over. He had a strong, steady pulse, at least, and was breathing. "I'm sorry you got dragged into this," she explained reluctantly. "I have…some debt to pay off, and a guy I know sent me to find Frank Wilson's plans for next year's sculpture so that a rival company can beat them to the punch with a line of knock-offs."

"I didn't realize that lawn ornaments were such a cutthroat business. Did you find it?"

"I don't know that there's anything here," Eva said in despair. "It's mostly bad love poetry and cupcake recipes."

Margo signed in defeat. "I'll…I'll help you look. It will go faster with two sets of hands."

She turned on the overhead light, which did a much better job of illuminating the files than Eva's flashlight, and if their pitched battle hadn't drawn the guards, probably the light wouldn't, either.

Margo nudged the man out of the way so that she could close the door.

It was much faster to go through the files with Margo, but if Frank had made notes about the next sculpture, neither of them had any luck finding them. There were copies of flyers for extravagant staff picnics and blank employee of the month certificates, ticket stubs for the zoo, and program books from comedy events. Frank had notes about Anita, a draft of a best man's speech for Tobias, shopping lists, and a lot of things that made no sense, like " Winged gorilla mud wrestling." (His handwriting was also very terrible.)

Eva took photographs of some of the most indecipherable parts.

"Will that work?" Margo wanted to know.

"I don't know," Eva admitted. "I've done what I was asked, so maybe it will be enough."

There was a groan from the man Margo had knocked out and they went to make sure he was still sleeping. Margo rolled him effortlessly over, and Eva could see his face for the first time in the bright light.

He was incredibly handsome, with one of those chiseled movie-star faces edged in neatly trimmed facial hair. "That's Bruno Bigliotti. He makes those fancy birdbaths that win art awards. He's a cave bear shifter."

Eva looked up in time to catch Margo blushing as she knelt to check his pulse. She was blushing! Well, no wonder. The man was an absolute beauty, even if he was a huge brute. Eva returned her gaze to him so that she wouldn't stare longingly at Margo and disturb the fragile truce they had right now.

"Mate," he murmured. "You're my mate…"

Eva and Margo both froze and exchanged an astonished glance over his head.

Margo was this man's mate?

Eva told herself that there was no reason for her bolt of jealousy. She didn't even know the terrifying man, and she didn't have a claim on either of these people.

"Let's get out of here before he wakes up and calls in reinforcements," Margo advised sensibly.