While she was dismissing him, he would be missing her. Aching for her. Scrambling around to find the pieces of his shattered heart so he could hopefully glue it back together.

Damn it, why couldn’t she be falling in love with him, just as he was with her?

“Oh, that’s good,” he muttered, not opening his eyes. “So mature. Make it all her fault that you’re a miserable wreck, Stone.”

Now that he thought about it, why would Jennifer fall in love with him? He’d made it clear to her that he had no room in his existence for a serious relationship. Someday, maybe, sure he might want a wife and kids, but now? Hey, he was the district attorney, worked twenty-four seven, which was exactly the way he liked it. He hadn’t exactly presented himself as the catch of the year.

But he didn’t have to put in the long, long hours he did to excel at this job. He had a top-notch staff of assistant district attorneys, paralegals, secretaries, research people, investigators. He could delegate so much of what he did on his own and not diminish one iota his dedication and purpose.

He could do that, would do that, if Jennifer actually loved him.

And that, he thought gloomily, was a pipe dream.

A knock at the door caused Evan to jerk upward in his chair.

“What!” he yelled.

The door was opened and Jennifer poked her head around the edge.

“Is it safe to come in? Or should I just throw you some raw meat? Belinda isn’t at her desk, but she told Sticks earlier that you wanted to see me.”

“Sorry I barked at you,” Evan said, getting to his feet. “Yes, I do want to see you.”

And hold you, Evan thought, and kiss you senseless, and make love to you for hours. There, walking toward him right now, was the only woman he had ever inched toward falling in love with. She was coming closer and closer, but she might as well be on the opposite side of the world for all the good her close proximity would do him. Ah, Jenny.

Jennifer sat down in one of the chairs opposite Evan’s desk. He remained standing, looking at her intently.

“Do I have a ladybug on my nose?” she said. “Why are you staring and glaring at me?”

Evan sank onto his chair. “Sorry. My mind was off and running somewhere.”

“You wanted to see me?” Jennifer prompted.

“I did?” Evan said, frowning. “Oh. Yes. I did. I do. And here you are. Good.”

“Evan, for Pete’s sake, what’s wrong?” she said, matching his frown. “You’re acting very strangely.”

“Tired. I’m very, very tired, that’s all.” Evan cleared his throat. “Okay, here’s the deal. We’re running out of time as far as lightning striking, or some such thing, and producing some solid evidence against Lyle.

“To be more precise, we need the damnable ring he claims he lost and a way to prove he was wearing it when Franklin was murdered. That ring isn’t suddenly going to drop into our laps so I’m going to have to go to trial next week with what I have.”

“You’ll get your conviction, Evan.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” he said, shaking his head. “Anyway, I’m going to spend the next two or three days reviewing information with the people who are going to testify for the prosecution. In all fairness to them I don’t want you filming them coming in and out of here. Granted, the reporters will see that their pictures are splashed across the newspapers, but I don’t think it’s fair to expose them to further scrutiny in the documentary.”

“I understand.” Jennifer nodded.

“And it goes without saying, I’m sure, that a D.A. going over testimony with his witnesses is not meant for public review. So, what I’m saying here is that beyond maybe showing my closed office door and stating what is taking place in this office, there’s nothing for you to do around here until the trial commences.”

“Oh. Well. Yes, I guess you’re right. Sticks and I will spend the time back at the studio viewing what we have so far and starting to edit the film.”

“That sounds very…productive,” Evan said, leaning forward and fiddling with a pen. “Because the mayor is so high on this documentary, you’ll be allowed to film in the courtroom while the reporters are stuck taking notes and making do with artist drawings of various witnesses. You’re not going to be very popular among the press, you know. Jealousy will rear its ugly head.”

Jennifer shrugged. “I’ve been through that before. You wouldn’t believe who I’ve been accused of sleeping with to get my coveted up close and personal coverage of various events.”

“The reporters might think you slept with the mayor?” Evan said, his voice rising.

“Sure. Or the governor. Or…” a warm flush crept over Jennifer’s cheeks “…you. Don’t worry about it, Evan. I can handle whatever remarks the press may fling at me.”

“Not on my watch,” Evan said, his jaw tightening. “If any one of them hassles you, you let me know and I’ll straighten them out, believe me.”

“And say what? That, yes, I slept with you, but it was the mayor who decreed that I should film the trial? That ought to make page one of the tabloids, if nothing else. Just stay out of it, Evan, and let me take care of it if it happens. You’re supposed to be concentrating on the trial, not on me and whatever slings and arrows the press might decide to shoot my way.”

“It’s not that easy. I care about you, for you. I can’t stand the idea that you might be harassed because the mayor is calling the shots and…I want to protect you from that garbage, stand between you and harm’s way and… Ah, hell.” He tossed the pen to one side.

Damn it, Jennifer, he thought fiercely. Don’t you get it? Can’t you see it? I’m falling in love with you.

“That’s…that’s very sweet,” she said, blinking back sudden and very unwelcomed tears. “And while it isn’t necessary, I appreciate it, I really do.”

And it just makes me realize that I’m falling deeper and deeper in love with you, Evan, she thought miserably, so stop saying such beautiful things to me please before I dissolve into a puddle of tears.

Jennifer cleared her throat. “So, the witnesses you’re seeing in the next few days will sit in this chair where I am now and you’re there behind your desk and…I just want to be certain I have the details right. I might decide to shoot your office with no one in it, then explain what will transpire behind the closed door that would be shown next.”

“Actually, no. I use the conference room for this type of thing. I don’t want to make my witnesses feel like they’re in the principal’s office with me looming over them from behind my desk.”

Jennifer frowned. “What conference room?”

“Follow me, ma’am,” Evan said, getting to his feet.

They crossed the large room to a door on the far wall and entered an even bigger room that held a long table surrounded by chairs, a sofa and easy chair grouping, a small refrigerator and a multitude of filing cabinets and bookcases filled to overflowing. The table had a row of neatly stacked papers as well as several accordion files.

“This is impressive,” Jennifer said, walking forward. “I didn’t even know this room was here.”

“This is where I get organized before a trial. Plus we have department meetings in here on a regular basis so the A.D.A.’s can bring me up to date on their cases. I go over testimony with witnesses in here because we can sit on the sofa and chairs, or whatever, and it’s less intimidating.”

Jennifer nodded. “Sticks and I will film this room with no one in it, then show the closed door. Okay?”

“That’s fine.” Evan paused. “You know, Jennifer, the first days of the trial will be spent on jury selection. Again, I’d like to protect the jurors’ identities as far as the documentary goes, even though the press will be hovering around with cameras outside the courtroom.”

“In other words, you don’t want me filming during jury selection.”

“No, and no footage of the jury once the trial begins.”