Awkward? She wanted to scream in frustration because her day had moved well beyond “awkward” about ten minutes after she’d woken up that morning.

“Martin Carstairs was also a student here, a wonderful young man. We can’t let his murder be without consequences.”

“Oh, I completely agree, Jim.” Darby’s lip curled as she raised her chin. “But the police released me because I am not the person responsible for hurting Martin last night so the consequences should not further vilify me.” She squeezed her fingers into fists. “Talk to the other faculty members and administration before the department destroys my career based on nothing more than fear-mongering and hearsay. I will talk to my lawyer.”

Pride shone in Eban’s eyes as he watched her.

Jim Nilsson’s eyes narrowed at her meaning. “Fine. In the meantime, I need to ask you to leave.”

She looked up at the sound of doors banging open and closed and footsteps running in their direction. She swallowed as she realized her boss had called security before he’d even spoken to her.

Did he truly think she was a dangerous?

“Got everything you need?” asked Eban.

Darby nodded and the professor started scanning the room as if making sure she wasn’t stealing.

“Let’s get out of here,” Eban said quietly.

She blinked back tears and raised her chin. Slung her heavy bag over her shoulder and purposefully took the heavy stack of books from Eban’s arm.

She wasn’t weak.

She stepped in front of her boss. “I expect a full apology from you, Jim, and from the head of department. I expect all my access privileges to remain intact and for you to talk to Detective Torgerson or the Chief of Police to get things straightened out as soon as possible. You have my contact information, so you know how to reach me.”

She swept out of the room as the security guards turned up. Eban flashed them his creds and sidearm and they backed up in confusion.

Darby noticed he put himself between her and them on their way out of the building.

“Are you okay?” he asked when they got back outside.

“Not really.” The wind snatched her breath and froze the moisture in her eyes. At least that disguised any tears that wanted to fall. She walked fast, head down, toward the car. “I work with those people every day and yet they still think I’m capable of killing Martin.” They reached the car and he opened the rear passenger door and she tossed her stuff inside. He slammed the door shut. She stood there and looked up at him. “I know this morning I was confused about whether or not I’d done it, but—”

“But you’d never kill someone in cold blood and they should know that about you,” he finished, brushing her hair out of her face.

She found herself staring up at him, enjoying the play of moonlight on his features even as the temperature seared her skin.

He was so handsome she had a hard time believing he was finally here, and not some figment of her imagination. His rich dark-brown eyes were outrageously pretty, the way they crinkled at the edges. The whiskers on his jaw gave him a rougher appearance than she’d seen in the past. Rugged and outdoorsy, a look she was more familiar with than sharp suits and pressed shirts of the FBI agents she’d met in Virginia. He was insanely hot in a suit or out of one but, more importantly, dressed like this, in winter clothes and a knit cap with an unshaven jaw, he looked attainable. He looked like he could be hers.