Eventually, he would falter. And John would be ready.

The phone rang, and he whipped around, irritated to have his happy reverie interrupted. The answering machine clicked on.

“Hey, Nancy?” a woman said. “This is Andrea. I’ve been calling your cell, but it’s not on, so I hope you’re checking messages. I’m just calling to tell you that I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to find some other solution for Moxie. I decided to take a personal-leave day and drive up to Boston Thursday night so I can see Freedy’s showcase. I know I promised kitty coverage, but Freedy and I get so little time together as it is, you know? Anyhow, see you at the conference. Bye!”

Boston? Conference? John went back to Nancy’s cluttered desk, and shuffled with his plastic-gloved hands in the paperwork, looking for something that had flickered at the edge of his attention. Ah, yes. There.

A conference program. The FolkWorld Conference. Thursday through Sunday, at the Amory Lodge Hotel. It would be crowded, but she would be distracted. Open to meeting new people, schmoozing.

He tucked the program into his bag. Nancy D’Onofrio was about to have the networking experience of a lifetime.

Chapter

10

Nancy leaned over the counter in the Amory Lodge lobby. “Are there any messages for me?” she asked.

The desk clerk looked put upon. “Not in the past fifteen minutes.”

Liam had told her he would arrive around eight. It was a quarter to nine. Peter and Enid’s showcase was scheduled for nine-thirty.

She looked up to find Enid bearing down on her in performance regalia: a velvet miniskirt, cleavage bulging out of her black leather vest, her hair a mass of luxurious blow-dried curls. “Peter forgot to pack my new mike!” she wailed. “just spent a thousand bucks on that thing!”

“You bought a thousand-dollar mike before paying me back for the registration fees?” Nancy asked wryly.

Enid threw up her hands. “I couldn’t sing ‘The Far Shore’ with that piece of crap! It sounds like I’m singing in a public bathroom!”

Nancy sighed. “This hotel is crawling with musicians who have good mikes. Think of someone who owes you a favor.” Her eyes flicked to Enid’s cleavage. “Shouldn’t be that hard,” she muttered.

“Hey,” came Liam’s deep voice from behind her.

Nancy whirled around. There he was, large as life, in a crisp white shirt, jeans, and a long, elegant black coat. Incredibly handsome.

Enid simpered. “Aren’t you going to introduce me, Nance?”

Nancy bit down on an impulse to smack her. “Enid, this is Liam Knightly, a friend of mine. Liam, this is Enid Morrow, one of my clients.”

“Delighted,” Enid cooed, holding out her hand.

He shook it politely. “You must be Peter’s wife.”

Enid smiled brilliantly. “Nancy must have told you all about us!”

“Of course.” He turned back to Nancy. “Sorry I’m late. I hit traffic.” He gave her a hard, possessive kiss, right in Enid’s face.

An uncontrollable grin spread over Nancy’s face. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here.” Her whole body was smiling. Every cell, every atom, every photon of her was happy to see him. He was the handsomest man in the room, probably in the entire hotel. By a factor of ten.

“You’re just in time to hear our showcase,” Enid announced.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, with a courteous nod.

“Find Eugene and ask if you can use a Mandrake mike,” Nancy suggested. “I think I saw him in the restaurant about ten minutes ago.”

A pout marred Enid’s heart-shaped face. “Can you take care of it? I have to touch up my makeup and make sure Peter’s dressed properly.”

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

Enid scampered toward the elevators, casting a dimpled smile back at Liam. Nancy grabbed his hand and towed him toward the restaurant. “Sorry to rush you, but I’ve got to catch Eugene,” she said.

Liam’s fingers curled possessively around hers. “He left you for her?” he asked, in a low, wondering tone.

She tried to wipe the silly, satisfied look off her face. So Enid’s sex-kitten appeal didn’t affect him. Her mood soared. “Pick up the pace,” she urged. “I’ve only got ten minutes to save the world.”

He swung her around a corner into an alcove full of vending machines. “If you’ve got ten, you can spare one of them to kiss me. That leaves nine to save the world. That’s a generous margin.”

He kissed her very thoroughly, until she was soft, hazy, and glowing. “What was I supposed to be doing?” she asked, dazed.

He leaned his forehead against hers and kissed the tip of her nose. “The mike. From Eugene. For Enid,” he said dutifully.

“Oh, God.”

He tagged after her companionably as she ran her errands, and finally they were seated in the back of the hall, her hand tucked securely in Liam’s. Peter and Enid were great, and the band that backed them played with energy and precision. When the plaintive strains of “The Road to You” died away, the applause was long and loud. Nancy nudged Liam as she clapped. “What do you think?”

His face was noncommittal. “Better than I expected.”

Nancy tugged on his hand. “Let’s congratulate them. Come on.”

Enid spotted Liam’s tall form first, and she bounced toward them, beaming, her eyes expectantly on Liam.

“I enjoyed it very much,” he said politely.

Enid took him by the arm, pulling him toward where Peter was still seated, fingering his guitar. Nancy trailed uncomfortably behind. The situation was out of her control, and it made her nervous.

“Hey, Petey! Meet Liam, Nancy’s new friend,” Enid said.

Peter’s head whipped around. His eyes narrowed. “Ah, so you’re the guy who spirited away our manager the most important week of the year.”

Liam gently extricated his arm from Enid’s grip. “And you’re the guy who left her at the altar and mooches money off her.”

Peter’s mouth dropped open. He glanced at Nancy, his face both thunderous and betrayed. “Who does this asshole think he is?” he hissed.

Nancy pushed closer, horrified. “Peter, I’m sorry. He—”

“Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.” He grabbed Enid’s arm. “Come on, baby. Let’s network.” Enid shot a bewildered glance over her shoulder as he dragged her away.

Nancy was aghast. “Oh, no, Liam. Look what you’ve done.”

The expression in Liam’s eyes was absolutely unapologetic.

She turned her back on him and left, but Liam kept pace beside her. No matter how fast she went, his stride lengthened to match it.

She pretended not to know him in the elevator. She’d known he was opinionated, but this was scary. This was destructive. Once out of the elevator, he stalked beside her with catlike grace to her room door, waiting as she fumbled for the key. She unlocked it and stumbled inside. The door ka-thunked shut behind them.

Liam flipped on the light by the door. “Okay,” he said in a grim, tight voice. “Go ahead. Let me have it.”

“I cannot believe you!” she exploded. “I had no idea when I invited you here that you would do your best to sabotage my professional life!”

He frowned. “I just told it like it was. And about time, too.”

“About time for what? To ruin my career?”

He snorted. “No, for a reality check. Peter and Enid are vampires. They suck you dry. And you don’t react. You don’t draw the line.”

“Timing is everything! Right after an important gig, surrounded by concert-series presenters, is not the best—”

“There’s never a good time, Nancy.”

She plowed on. “Grace. Delicacy. Minding your own goddamn business. These are the earmarks of maturity.”