Twenty Seven

The view from the apartment was terrific. Especially at night. It overlooked the city, the twinkling, colorful lights almost making her believe she was in a fairyland. Two months were enough. Weren't they? He had to miss her as much as she did him and would probably forget the past when he saw her again. She'd caught glimpses of him when he came and went to work. He wasn't the same, confident man she'd known. Dare she think it was because of her? When she finally called Pippa, her assistant had told her how desperate he'd been to find her. According to her, he was begging. Then again, how could he not? He thought he'd lost the woman he loved. Of course, anyone in his position was bound to lose their mind.

Eva sat back, planning her comeback. She'd stayed out of sight to the point that no one knew where she was. Even the Paparazzi couldn't find her. Lincoln believed she just needed privacy to finish her book and that she'd sold her house because she wanted to get away from the stalker