Command Performance by Nora Roberts Page B

took her eyes off her son long enough to watch Reeve, Alexander and Bennett circle the barn. She knew what they were talking about. The bomb in Paris was on everyone’s mind. She and Reeve would talk of it later. Now she turned back to Eve. “It seems we’re always fixing something—the roof, the windows. I’m afraid we don’t spend as much time there as Reeve would like.”
    “Brie, you don’t have to make conversation with me. I know you’re concerned about your father and what happened this morning.”
    “These are uneasy times.” Brie looked at her children again. They were her heart, her life, her continuing link with the real world. “We have to live each day. I know my father will do what’s right for Cordina.”
    “And for himself?”
    Gabriella’s eyes, a deep, intriguing topaz, seemed to darken, but she smiled. “My father is Cordina, as Alex is. It’s the first thing that has to be understood, and the most difficult. You care for him.”
    “For Alexander? Of course.”
    “Of course.” Amused, Gabriella rose to pick up her son before he could crawl under the porch after the kitten. “I’m not speaking of ‘of course,’ Eve.” She kissed Dorian on the cheek when he started to squirm, then settled him expertly on her hip. “If you ever allow your feelings for him to come to the surface, you’ll find a great many pitfalls. If you need to talk, come to me.” Then she laughed when Dorian tugged on her hair. “This one needs a good wash before dinner.”
    “Go ahead.” Eve managed to smile. “I’ll get the others.”
    But she sat there alone a few moments longer, not so sure of herself and no longer relaxed. Her feelings for Alexander were on the surface, she told herself. She cared about him as she cared about all the friends she’d made in Cordina. They were like a second family to her. Naturally, as a woman she found Alexander attractive. What woman wouldn’t? And perhaps there were moments, occasionally, when the attraction was a little too intense. That was nothing to lose sleep over.
    She didn’t want pitfalls. She’d maneuver them if she had to. In her career. Romantically—that was a different area altogether. She wanted no complications there. Wasn’t that the reason she had avoided romance for so long? Certainly there’d been men who had interested her, but …
    There’d always been a “but,” Eve thought. Rather than think it through too deeply, she’d always fallen back on the fact that she simply didn’t have time for relationships.
    The noise of the children shouting roused her. It wasn’t like her to daydream, either, she reminded herself. Jogging down the steps, she headed across the lawn. The children groaned a bit, but, after she promised to help them organize a game after dinner, went in to wash up.
    With them gone, the farm was so quiet she almost regretted having to find the others and go inside. She’d like to come back, Eve discovered. To sit on the porch in the evening, close her eyes and listen to nothing. It wouldn’t do for every day, even every week, but now and again it would be like healing oneself.
    She enjoyed the frantic pace of the life she’d chosen. Eve could go for days with little sleep and no spare time and not feel the strain. But once a year, twice a year, perhaps, to sit in the country and listen to nothing … Laughing at herself, she headed for the barn.
    There were high windows to let in the evening light, and the scent of horses was strong. No stranger to barns and stables, Eve headed down the sloping concrete floor. She squinted a bit, trying to adjust her vision to the change in light.
    “Bennett, I—”
    But it was Alexander who turned. The figure she had seen in front of the stall was darker and slightly broader than Bennett.
    “Excuse me, Your Highness.” Her manner stiffened automatically. “I thought you were Bennett.”
    “I’m aware of that. He’s with Reeve.” Alexander turned back to the horse. “They’ve