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it.
    It was a good thing she couldn’t see Ethan’s face as he razzed with Adelaide. She didn’t want to watch the sparkle in his eyes or the charming smile of a not-so-straight-laced paparazzo. He had the perfect face for an artist’s model. Clean lines, strong features, easily shaded, and enough layers in his eyes to keep a sketcher occupied for days. But they were also the worst combination for any woman to keep her guard up. An artist’s greatest love was the politician’s worst enemy.
    There was no doubt in Audrey’s mind which role she needed to play. Or at least which role took precedence over all others. Which is why her sketchbook sat on her windowsill back in Dallas.
    The grocery store parking lot was even fuller than before and Audrey’s gut squirmed as she pulled into an empty space. Another deep breath and a struggled swallow helped steady her mind. Flour, sugar, and lip gloss. Then back to the quasi-sanctuary of home. What could be simpler?
    “It’s just a Piggly Wiggly.”
    Audrey looked out her window only to see it wasn’t there. Ethan leaned against the open door frame, smirking and waiting for her to step out. Was she really that distracted?
    He held out his hand, casual and undemanding, much like the rest of his posture. But there was nothing casual about that gaze. Like he’d win the lottery if he could guess the exact number of freckles on her face.
    Would it be so bad if a man paid that kind of attention to details?
    Audrey swallowed again and shook her head.
    “I’m trying to decide whether or not I want wine with dinner,” she lied.
    If the motel was any indication of the welcoming she’d receive in this town, she should shut the door and drive home now. The grocery store here was like the Galleria in Dallas. Women came here for their gossip and stopped off in the beauty salon for the rest. Audrey was about to give them enough gossip for the next year.
    And in front of a newsman, no less. One determined to uncover the details.
    Audrey stepped out of the car and gripped her purse. She followed Ethan and Adelaide to the automatic sliding doors and inhaled, plastering on her peacemaker face.
    Let’s get this display over with.

Chapter Nine
    As Audrey Allen trailed them into the grocery store, Ethan thought he saw fear in her hesitant eyes. She wasn’t supposed to be afraid of anything. Forget that she clutched her bag like a life raft, she didn’t lead the pack into a room like her normal campaign routine. News conferences, public appearances, even when she assisted Congressman Nichols on the floor, she always entered through the door first. Except now.
    The motel clerk’s open-armed welcome must have rattled her more than Ethan suspected. Hardly the kind of welcome expected for a Senate candidate on the campaign trail. Ethan couldn’t stop smiling as he walked into the grocery store.
    Shit, this was going to be a fun weekend.
    Adelaide skipped into the store ahead of him, waving to one of the two cashiers as she passed, and headed straight for the makeup aisle. So this is what a Piggly Wiggly looks like. Not an indoor pen for farm animals as the name suggested, but a six-aisled general store the size of a mainstream pharmacy. Well, five aisles. The sixth was strictly hunting gear and ammunition. Not the kind of store seen in Dallas. And definitely not in New York City.
    Ethan stopped and shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting for Audrey to catch up. What were they here for again? Something for her mother. Audrey strolled past without a word or glance.
    Her perfume trailed in her wake and its sweetness matched perfectly with her sultry stride. Not that she knew it. Women like her were rare: not completely ignorant to their physique’s effect on a man’s senses, but clueless to its magnitude. No doubt Audrey knew to keep the make-up natural and the hair simple, but perhaps didn’t know how to accentuate her curves with the right clothing. But with Ethan’s trained eye on the