“I didn’t expect to hear from you. You didn’t return any of my phone calls.” There was something in his voice—anger, she thought, a little surprised. Or resentment. Something.

“Actually, I was hoping you’d have a suggestion for me. I’m looking for something to keep me busy. I thought there might be some kind of work for me at the museum.”

His voice softened. “So you and Logan . . . you’re not together anymore? After what happened at the funeral, I thought maybe . . .”

“We aren’t together. Not anymore.”

“So you’re interested in working with the museum. That’s a great idea. The Devil’s Gold is still a hot topic. Perhaps you could do a series of lectures on the subject, incorporate your experiences, the work you did in Mexico to find the treasure—what it felt like when you finally succeeded.”

“Yes, I think I could do that. I’ve done a lot of research on the history of the men and women who searched for the treasure over the years. I think people might find their stories interesting.”

“Why don’t we talk about it over dinner at my house?”

Apprehension slid through her. With every date, Clay had become more aggressive. It was one of the reasons she hadn’t returned his calls.

“Better yet, why don’t I cook you supper here?” Where she could have a little more control. “I could finally get some use out of my kitchen. Are you free day after tomorrow?”

“I can make that work,” Clay said.

Abby gave him her address. “Seven p.m.?”

“I’ll see you then.”

Abby hung up the phone. She hoped Clay wouldn’t get the wrong idea. She still wasn’t interested in him as anything more than a friend, but working with the museum might be a good way to spend her time, and there was a chance Clay could help her.

It wasn’t what she’d dreamed of doing after coming home with millions of dollars in gold. She’d imagined doing something far more exciting.

Abby thought of Gage but blocked his image from her mind and heart.

* * *

Gage sat at the kitchen table, staring at the wall. He’d always loved coming home from a journey, being back in his own space, surrounded by his own personal treasures.

Now that Abby was gone, he hated being in the apartment by himself.

All morning, he’d wandered the empty rooms, trying not to think of her, but she always seemed to be lurking in the corners of his mind. Her laughter, her smile, her kisses.

He needed something to do, something that would capture his interest. Something that would take him out of the country, where he wouldn’t dwell on the things they’d done together, remember making love to her. Ache to make love to her again.