Hard To Forget. Annette Broadrick

of him staring at the camera without expression. Now his eyes showed their shock and a warmth that surprised her.

      “I don’t believe it,” he said softly, his gaze taking in each of her features as though mentally comparing them with earlier memories. He spoke below the blaring music and boisterous conversations so that she heard his words as clearly as if he’d whispered them in her ear. “I’m out of town for a few days and look who I find is here when I return.”

      She suppressed the shiver that ran through her body. She’d forgotten how his deep voice had always had such a strong effect on her. In a flash she was that shy teenager again, reacting to his good looks and blatant charm.

      Somebody help me, I’m drowning in memories here, she thought in panic.

      “Hello, Joe,” she said quietly, then quickly picked up her glass and drained it.

      He immediately signaled Chico to bring her another as he sat down on the stool at the elbow of the bar, so that they were almost facing each other. She was thankful she’d chosen to sit next to the wall. Now she turned on the stool and casually braced herself against the wall, hoping to look relaxed and totally at ease with this meeting, thankful for the three barstools that separated them.

      “Elena Maldonado,” he let the syllables of her name roll off his tongue as though savoring each one. “I would never have recognized you if Chico hadn’t told me it was you hiding over here in the shadows.” His voice was filled with admiration and pleasure.

      Chico arrived with her drink, wearing a grin. “What do you say, man? She’s looking pretty good, don’t you think?”

      Chico’s presence gave her the time she needed to get a grip on her emotions. She’d known for a week that her ultimate goal was to make contact with Joe in a believable manner.

      So far, so good.

      Elena gave each of them a slow sensuous smile. “Thank you both,” she replied. Once Chico left, she tilted her glass and carefully refilled it from the new bottle before she glanced at Joe and said, “I believe Chico mentioned that you still lived around here. It is Joe Sanchez, isn’t it?” she asked casually, determined not to let him know how much she was affected by this encounter.

      She was a professional. She could do this.

      His smile flashed white in his darkly tanned face. “That’s right. I’m surprised you remembered.”

      She lifted one shoulder. “Oh, you really haven’t changed all that much since you were our high-school football hero.” She fluttered her lashes at him mockingly and sipped from her full glass.

      Interesting. He actually flushed.

      “What did you do after we finished high school?” she asked, as though she couldn’t recite to him everything she’d found in his dossier about the past eleven years. At least what he had done legally. He had no criminal record. Yet. She hoped to change that before all this was over.

      He looked down at his drink as though surprised to see it in front of him. “I got that scholarship to go to A & M. Opted to go into the army once I graduated.” He paused, then cleared his throat. “I was discharged three months ago.”

      She lifted an eyebrow and smiled. “Decided not to reenlist?”

      He looked away and her gaze followed his to two couples dancing. She thought he wasn’t going to answer her before he finally turned back to her and said, “I needed to come home.”

      I just bet you did.

      He leaned forward. “No kidding, I can’t believe how great you look these days. No glasses, that long hair cut off—” he leaned to the side so that he could see more of her “—and you’ve filled out in all the right places.”

      She could have said the same thing about him.

      But she didn’t.