He dipped a hand into his pocket, drew out what he carried there.
Baffled, Eve stared down at the simple gray button in his palm. “That’s off my suit.”
“Yes. Not a particularly flattering suit- you need stronger colors. I found it in my limo. I meant to give it back to you.”
“Oh.” But when she reached out, he closed his fingers over the button.
“A very smooth lie.” Amused, he laughed at himself. “I had no intention of giving it back to you.”
“You got a button fetish, Roarke?”
“I’ve been carrying this around like a schoolboy carries a lock of his sweetheart’s hair.” ...
“That’s weird.”
“I thought so myself.” But he slipped the button back in his pocket. “Do you know what else I think, Eve?”
“I don’t have a clue.”
“I think I’m in love with you.”