Worth the Risk (The McKinney Brothers #2) - Claudia Connor

Worth the Risk is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. A Loveswept eBook Original Copyright © 2015 by Claudia Connor Excerpt from Too Hot to Handle by Katie Rose copyright © 2015 by Colleen Bosler All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Loveswept, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House LLC, a Penguin Random House Company, New York. LOVESWEPT is a registered trademark and the LOVESWEPT colophon is a trademark of Random House LLC. This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming book Too Hot to Handle by Katie Rose. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition. eBook ISBN

9780553390926

Cover design: Georgia Morrissey

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Cover photograph: CURAphotography/Shutterstock www.readloveswept.com v4.0 ep

Contents Cover Title Page Copyright

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12

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Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31

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Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Epilogue

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Dedication Acknowledgments By Claudia Connor About the Author The Editor’s Corner Excerpt from Too Hot to Handle

Chapter 1 Hannah’s eyes burned and her head ached from the effort not to cry as she pulled into a parking spot at Foodland. At eight o’clock that morning she’d walked into the veterinarian’s office a dog owner. Three hours later she’d walked out…not. She cut the engine, her forehead dropped to the steering wheel. She’d known Max wasn’t himself, that he might be sick, that eleven was old for a dog, especially a large shepherd mix. But she hadn’t expected to hear the words nothing we can do, or best thing for him. Biting her lip against tears, she forced herself out and into a spring day so bright and beautiful she couldn’t decide if it was cheerful or a slap in the face.

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She grabbed a cart and mentally planned her route, hitting produce first. Avocados, jalapeños, tomatoes. She searched her fuzzy brain for what else she needed for guacamole, her standard contribution when she went to her brother’s. Exactly where she did not want to go tonight. She didn’t want to watch the brothers who’d raised her tiptoeing around, giving one another worried looks, thinking they needed to fix it like they always did. They couldn’t fix this. A lot of things couldn’t be fixed. Finished with that, she silently repeated the rest. Chips, bread, beer. Chips, bread, milk, beer. She added things and ticked them off as she went. But old habits were hard to break, and like a car on autopilot, she found herself in the dog food aisle. All she saw were Max’s big eyes fixed on hers. Trusting her when she said it would be okay, not understanding the vet’s syringe was filled with enough anesthesia he’d never

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wake up. The lump in her throat swelled until she couldn’t swallow past it. Her nose burned and the bags in front of her blurred. Just get the beer and go. She wheeled around and turned the corner of the next aisle. She couldn’t handle a pity party tonight. Of course if she didn’t go, if she said she just wanted to hang out at home, they’d cancel the whole March Madness deal and insist on coming to her house. Her house, where a certain brown-eyed shepherd wouldn’t be waiting. An enormous weight settled on her chest. Don’t cry. She scanned the beer case and swiped at her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry. She bit down on her bottom lip. Damn it. She was. No wonder her brothers treated her like glass. Broken glass. “Bad day?”

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Hannah jerked at the deep voice beside her. Right beside her and way too close. Dark, tall, and wide, the man filled out his expensive-looking black suit like an athlete entering the stadium tunnel before a game. “I’m fine.” He angled his head, smiled, and her heart actually stumbled. “You know, people usually cry in their beer after they drink it. Just saying.” He continued to study her with soft brown eyes, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t want to look away. But she did. And pulled the sides of the long-sleeved shirt she wore open over a tank top closer together. Because of the frigid air coming from the beer case, and because no matter what she had on, no matter how covered, she could never shake the feeling people could somehow see through to what lay beneath. “Well, I’m done now.”

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He looked back to the case as well, but even from the side she could see a smirk pulling at his lips. “That’s good.” She grabbed a six-pack of AmberBock, spun her buggy around, and headed to the front, feeling the stranger’s eyes burning her back the entire way. — Stephen McKinney watched her go, enjoying the way she moved in tan riding breeches that hugged her legs before they disappeared into tall, brown leather boots. He smiled, enjoying it a little longer. Golden-blond hair hung in a long, loose braid nearly to her waist. He had a flash of it tangled in his fingers, spread across silk sheets. Beautiful. And gone. He loosened his tie and opened the top buttons of his dress shirt as he made his way through the express lane.

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Still feeling a stab of disappointment, he exited alone. But the sun warmed him and, it seemed, blessed him, with extreme luck, because, as he stashed his items in the tiny trunk of his Porsche, he caught sight of Goldilocks pushing her cart straight toward him. Grinning, he pretended to search his bags as she made a wide birth around him and stopped at the neighboring car—a black 4Runner that had seen better days. She rearranged some piles in the back, then stashed her groceries, not once looking at him. While she delivered her cart to the holding pen, he closed his trunk and stepped around to lean against the side. He waited, watched, noting the deliberate way she walked. Tall and lean, though he still had a good six inches on her. Still several feet away, she slowed, a touch of fight-or-flight in her eyes. She took a few

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more steps, maintaining a certain distance he felt compelled to close. But he stayed where he was, legs crossed in front of him, effectively blocking her way. “Have dinner with me.” Golden eyes blinked up at him. Not the shade of the gold bars stacked inside the national reserve, more like the dark whiskey he’d drunk too much of not so long ago. “What?” “I’m asking you to dinner.” She looked around again, seeming more concerned with the parking lot than with him. “Oh.” Not exactly an answer and not the effect he usually had on women. “Stephen,” he said and offered his hand. She hesitated so long, he thought she might leave him hanging. But finally, and with obvious reluctance, she slipped her small hand into his. He got a little buzz from

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the slide of her palm against his. He imagined the rest of her would be just as soft. “Your name?” “Hannah.” “So, Hannah,” he said, wanting to tug until she was flat up against him. “Will you please have dinner with me?” “No.” She didn’t consider it for even a second and pulled her hand free. “Ah.” He inclined his head toward her bags. “Chips. Beer. You have plans. Another night then.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Give me your number and I’ll call you.” “Yes. I mean…no.” “Not sure?” Now he was getting somewhere. She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. If she was playing hard to get, he could play too. And he would win. “I mean I can’t give you my number and yes, I have plans.”

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She flicked her eyes toward her driver’sside door. Nervous? It was broad daylight and not like they were standing in a darkened alley, but he straightened, gave her a bit more space. Though there was no way he was about to leave things like this, just watch her drive away. Not when he was dying to touch her, brush back the wayward strands feathering around that gorgeous face. “Maybe just a drink then. No pressure.” Seconds ticked by and she bit at her lip again, making him think about biting it too. She seemed to weigh her options, possibly deciding which was the better offer. If he’d been interested before, now he was damned intrigued. “I guess I could meet you somewhere.” He cocked his head, resisted giving her the head-to-toe perusal he wanted to. “Is that the best deal I’m going to get?”

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“It’s the only deal you’re going to get.” In the second their eyes connected, he caught a touch of sass before she looked away. Cute. Very cute, on top of being very beautiful. “Okay. Reno’s.” If she was surprised at Norfolk’s exclusive, impossible-toget-into restaurant, she didn’t show it. His phone rang and, without taking his eyes from hers, he slipped it out of his pocket. “Seven thirty?” She gave a swift nod and escaped to her car. As a businessman he knew compromise could often get you farther. And sometimes, he thought, sliding into the deep black leather, it was best to let your opponent think they’d won. He brought the cell to his ear. “Hey, Adam, what’s up?” As he listened to the young intern he’d recently taken on, he watched Hannah leave the parking lot. “So how should I reply?”

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Stephen started his own car and pulled out. “You tell them the deal’s off. They want to sell more than we want to buy. That’s the point. Find out why they’re so eager and then we squeeze. Three to one he caves by midweek.” Which were better odds than his date showing up tonight. “And that’s why you’re the shark.” Stephen smiled at the young man’s enthusiasm. “I’ll be back in the office in twenty.” He ended the call and dropped his phone into the console, his mind more on a goldenhaired angel than a major land acquisition. He had other acquisitions in mind. His smile grew at the thought as he muscled into midday traffic and took the I-4 into downtown. Breast-hugging tank top he’d only gotten a peek of thanks to the shirt she wore over it. That shirt had also partially blocked his view of a very fine ass. Just the right curves in addition to a sinfully sexy mouth. And a single tear tracking down her

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cheek that had twisted something inside him. Not at all the kind of thing he liked. He preferred happy and carefree, conceited and self-involved. All of which turned the spotlight on someone else and turned both parties away from matters of the heart. But he was a man who got what he wanted, and the longer he’d stood there beside her car, the more he’d wanted Hannah. Plus, she’d said no. That alone had sealed her fate. Feeling triumphant, Stephen pulled up to his office located in one of Norfolk’s newest high-rises—his high-rise. All glass and sleek metal, the silver edges gleaming in the afternoon sun, the space between reflecting the clear blue sky. Damn, he loved this building. And he should, he’d had a lot to do with the design. More than that, it had come at a time when he’d needed it most. His tangible proof that he’d made it through the nightmare that had almost destroyed him.

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But it hadn’t. The glass building stood, breakable but surviving. And so was he. He crossed the cool lobby, his dress shoes clicking against the smooth black marble, and keyed into his private elevator. He gave a smile and a nod to the young blonde manning the main desk as the doors closed, taking him swiftly to the top of his own company, Trace Development. He strode down the hallway to his home away from home. He’d been gone longer than he’d planned, working hard for a date with an alluring woman who’d shown a hint of sadness. He didn’t slow down as his admin got up from behind her desk. “You have six calls. Tanner and Associates and Robert Sinclair are the most pressing. You have a conference call with Mr. Jia?ng at two.” She quickstepped to keep pace with him. She had no choice.

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Stephen smiled at his straightforward administrative assistant. In a black skirt and standard white blouse ruffling out at the top, she looked as formidable as ever. Her crisp voice and gray bob only added to her air of efficiency. “Thank you, Dee.” First order of business was to cancel his prior commitment for the evening, easy enough. He sat at his desk and pulled up the number. He’d had a fun couple of weeks, but things between him and Nicole had run their course and they both knew it. She’d been the one to cancel last time. Women used him for his money and prestige. He used them for…some would say sex. He thought of it more as sleep aid without the pills. Nightmare suppressers. When that was done he dug into the Shanghai file, barely looking up when his partner, Dave Pietro, strode in. His tie was a blast of orange against a navy pinstripe. And that was Dave, from his three-thousand-

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dollar shoes to his slicked-back hair and shrewd black eyes. Dave’s favorite saying was “shock and awe.” More often than not, it was just shock. But he was sharp, and he enjoyed playing the political side, something Stephen had no patience for. “Congratulations.” Dave waved a magazine, one he’d already seen. Stephen McKinney, Norfolk’s Most Eligible Bachelor. “You didn’t tell me.” “I forgot.” Since making his first million in college and being dubbed the Stock Whisperer by Forbes, it was always something. He’d been recognized in Top Ten Young Professionals more times than he could count. One article had even called him a young Donald Trump. That one he appreciated, as he had great respect for the man. He’d strategized, negotiated, and outsmarted, gaining power and leverage with surprising speed. But it was the bigger, more recent,

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risks that had gotten him farther, faster. It wasn’t hard to risk everything when you had nothing to lose. Nothing to live for. “So, how many women did you have to screw to get that Most Eligible status?” “I don’t know,” Stephen answered dryly, thinking Dave actually sounded jealous. “I didn’t count.” “Well, either I’m not screwing enough or not the right ones. Better up my game.” Stephen looked up just in time to see Dave cover his tone with a smile as he passed him a file. “New property. I want it.” Always with the new deals, the quick and easy profit. Stephen wasn’t against quick money, but he held majority in Trace, and small projects offered little challenge, in addition to wasting time. While Dave went on about an empty stretch of land and the

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commercial opportunities, Stephen’s mind wandered to a real challenge. Hannah. The name suited her somehow. Soft and earthy. Full lips and a mouth he could spend hours exploring. He was well aware he might never see her again. It wasn’t at all like him to care.

Chapter 2 Hannah parked off to the side of the barn, waited for the swirl of dust to clear, and asked herself again, What the hell did I just do? She didn’t talk to strangers. Not in grocery stores. Not in parking lots. Not ever. Until today. He’d caught her at a weak moment, and then…he’d just caught her. Completely unignorable with his crooked smile and hint of dimples to counter a dangerously hot man. And obviously not the type to take no for an answer. Any other day she would have brushed him off easily. Any other day, her usual awareness of her surroundings would have staved off any interaction in the first place. She got out and made her way across the grass and gravel parking area. Inside the

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barn, the air pulsed with the feel of live animals; the scents of their bodies, their feed, and their home. Old wood and manure greeted her like an old friend. It was here in this place she mostly hid, going unnoticed and unseen. Being noticed made her antsy, edgy. She’d felt that way with Stephen, but she’d also felt something else. Something like an opportunity. He didn’t know her, not her last name, not where she lived or worked. In a very weird way, that made it feel safe. A public place, she wouldn’t go anywhere else. And she didn’t want to be with her brothers tonight. Didn’t really want to be alone either. Stephen had given her an out. With Luke home on leave, she had one more nosy brother to dodge and now she could do it without lying. Her palomino, Winnie, blew hot horsey breath in greeting then bumped her shoulder. “Hey now, what did we talk about? You already had your treat for the day.” She

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gave Winnie’s caramel neck a pat and moved on. When she’d greeted the four horses in the barn, she went into the tack room, illuminated by a single yellow bulb hanging from the ceiling. She breathed in the smell of old leather and oil as she gathered the special saddle pads and straps she needed for her first student. “Hannah?” “Yeah, in here.” Her assistant, Lexie, came around the corner. There were only seven horses total. Not exactly a farm that required hired hands, but Lexie had always been here, and when the original owners died, she stayed. Stout and sturdy and of undermined age, she helped lift the heavier students into the saddle. “Hey, girl. I expected you earlier. Everything okay?”

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Hannah stared hard at the bridle in her hands. Adjusted the buckle that didn’t need adjusting. “No, um…they had to put Max to sleep.” “Shit.” Hannah had to smile at the sentiment even as she blinked back a new wave of tears. “I’m okay. And I’m sorry. He was kind of your dog too.” The previous owners, and closest thing Hannah had ever had to grandparents, had left it all to her. The house, the barn, the land. And the dog. He’d lived with her, slept with her, but everyone loved him. Which meant she’d have to tell the kids at some point. Hard-edged Lexie sniffed. “He was a damn good dog. Nothing else needs to be said.” No. There was nothing else to say. The sound of a car door closing signaled it was time to pull it together. With a deep breath she wiped her eyes and went out to greet her first student with a smile. She wouldn’t

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throw a shadow over this child’s time here. It meant too much. Eighteen months ago, a drunk driver had run Allie’s family van off the road. She’d lost her mother, a baby brother, and her right leg just below the knee. She was six years old. “Hey, squirt.” “Hi, Hannah.” She took Allie from her father’s arms and caught the relief in his eyes. He’d lost so much, and she got the sense he was hanging by a thinner thread than usual. “I have some extra horses that need brushing today. Mind if I put your girl to work when she’s finished?” Allie’s eyes danced with excitement, her father’s with gratitude. He ran his hand through his hair. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” She met his gaze with understanding. “Just make sure you stay gone an extra hour.”

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As always, they began Allie’s therapy with grooming. Hannah held out an arm, offering as little assistance as possible as Allie balanced on her new prosthetic. They talked and worked. She’d only known Allie a few months, but she loved her. When Hazel was ready, Lexie supported Allie in the saddle while Hannah fastened the special straps around the girl’s waist and thighs. “Okay, girlfriend. You ready to ride?” “Ready.” Allie sat tall and proud, her eyes bright under the bill of the velvet riding helmet. Her grin was wide enough to reveal a tiny gap from her first lost tooth. Hannah smiled back. After more surgeries than she could count and years of therapy learning to walk again, she knew that joy firsthand. She understood how riding a horse lifted you up, leveled the playing field, and gave you a borrowed strength. Understood the sense of power and confidence. The

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freedom and fresh air after the stink and general misery of the PT room. Using Hazel’s steady gait, they spent an hour strengthening Allie’s core and balance, learning to compensate for the part that wasn’t there anymore. When they were finished, Hannah led them across the lower pasture to a strip of trees. She fingered the lead rope loosely in her hand and waited, giving Allie room to talk if she wanted. The rhythmic steps of hooves on newborn grass and Hazel’s horsey breath joined the sound of trickling water. Sunlight filtered down as they followed a path along a shallow creek that wound its way around three-quarters of the property. It wasn’t a huge piece of land, nothing fancy, but it was her home, her livelihood, and at one time had been her salvation. “I think maybe I should cut my hair.”

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Hannah glanced up at the dark strands hanging in a long ponytail down her back. “Do you want to cut it?” “I don’t know.” Allie let out a long breath much too weary for such a tiny girl. “It might be easier. My mom used to braid it,” she added softly. And there was the real problem. She could only imagine the pain in this little girl’s heart. Having a mother, knowing her, then losing her. She wanted to take Allie off the horse, hug her tight and never let go, but she looked up and smiled. “I think your hair would look cute short. You’ve got the face for it. Not everyone does, you know.” “Do you remember your mom?” Allie knew Hannah’s mother was dead, they’d covered that common bond on the first day. “No. But I was really little when my parents died, way younger than you,” she assured her. “Practically a baby. But I always had my brothers.” Hannah pointed as they

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stepped out of the trees. “There’s my bossiest brother now.” Her oldest brother, Nick, stood leaning against the hood of his SUV, looking like the formidable FBI agent he was. Nick was tall and handsome; his hair was dark brown to her light and he wore the perpetual unshaven look well. It gave him a tough look just short of scary. He lifted his hand and she waved back. Afraid she couldn’t tell him about Max without crying, she’d texted him. And now he was here, checking on her like he always did. Her brothers had raised her, sacrificed for her. Nick more than any of them. Lexie met them and took Hazel and Allie into the barn. Hannah turned to find Nick’s cop eyes full of concern. That was the look she couldn’t spend an entire night with. “I’m okay. I’m sad, but I’m okay.” Nick said nothing for several seconds, just gave her his I-can-read-your-mind stare. “I

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talked to Luke and Zach. They’re fine with changing plans tonight.” “I knew you’d say that.” She headed into the barn to get ready for her next student, leaving Nick to follow. “You don’t need to change your plans.” “Well, you’re sure as hell not sitting home alone.” “You’re right. I’m not.” She stepped into the tack room and Nick stopped just outside. “Really?” “Yes. Really. You can still have your guy party. I have plans.” “Plans?” “Yes.” She looked back at him and smiled. “I can have plans, you know.” “I know you can, you just…” “What?” She reached for a piece of support foam. “Never do? He leaned against the doorway, watching her. “Where are you going?”

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“Drinks.” “With who?” She stepped around him and moved down the aisle for Big Ben, a small chestnut pony. “A friend.” “A friend.” He said it full of suspicion and disdain for someone he didn’t know. Bigbrother syndrome plus FBI equaled overthe-top. “I also manage to have friends.” Kind of. She slipped the halter over the pony’s head. “Where are you going?” She speared him with a glare over her shoulder. “Okay. Sorry.” He held up his hands. “But why don’t you and your friend come over to watch the game?” “No.” “No?” Hannah tilted her head. “Is there an echo in here?”

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“On top of not knowing who this friend is, I don’t like the idea of you coming home at night to an empty house.” Immediately he looked remorseful and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Sorry.” She blew out a shaky breath before speaking. “It’s fine. Dogs don’t live forever, you knew that when I moved out here.” Something he’d been adamantly against, but having the dog had helped. She loved her four brothers, and she wouldn’t say they suffocated her, though the hum of their hovering could be deafening at times. FBI, Special Forces, firefighter, cop. It was like her very own big-brother protection force. And every one of them liked to be in charge and in control. Especially Nick. If they knew she was going out with a man, let alone a man she didn’t know, they’d freak. Even if it was for their own good. “I know how to lock a door.” “I know you do.”

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She met her brother’s worried eyes, and not for the first time thought what it must have been like for him at nineteen, suddenly responsible for four siblings. Then she thought of how much more she’d put him through. Put them all through. If they were ever going to believe she was really okay, if she was going to believe it, she had to prove it. Time to push herself out of her comfort zone. For herself. For all of them.

Chapter 3 It was nearly five by the time Hannah drove through the woods from the barn to her house. Few people knew the tiny cabin even existed. Wild dogwoods had just begun spreading their leaves, filling in the space between the pines. Soon she wouldn’t be able to make out the barn from her porch at all. Surrounded. Hidden. The way she liked it. Which made this whole meeting for drinks thing so far out of character, she didn’t recognize herself. But maybe that was the point. Maybe she needed a little different if she was ever going to be different. She slid out and climbed the three wide steps to the porch and entered her wooded refuge alone. Funny how just the sound of an animal breathing, the thumping of a tail, and

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the clicks of doggy nails on wood floor could fill a home. It was dead quiet. No dog on the shaggy rug under the oak coffee table. No one to shoo off the leather couch. The main room opened into the kitchen, leading her eyes straight to the silver bowls on the floor. She should empty them, put them away. But not yet. She headed to the shower, trying not to picture Max, and instead pictured the handsome man who’d wanted to have dinner with her. She hadn’t felt her usual heart-racing panic. Not so much of the irrational fear she was working to overcome but hadn’t quite managed yet. Instead there’d been a flutter in her stomach, a heat and tingle when her small hand had slipped into his large one. Warm and gentle for such a big man. She showered, replaying the rules her brothers had drilled into her over the years, assuring herself she wasn’t breaking any. She’d broken a rule twelve years ago and it

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had nearly ruined all their lives. She stepped out of the hot water, wrapped her hair tightly in a towel, and piled it on top of her head. The steam-covered mirror blocked her reflection, but still, she closed her eyes as she dried her body. She didn’t feel the marks over a decade old, didn’t feel the crisscrossing pink and purple lines. She inhaled the scent of vanilla and lavender lotion and pretended just for a moment they weren’t there. That she was normal. Inside and out. But she wasn’t, and they were there. Her brothers thought they needed to remind her to be careful and cautious. They didn’t. All she had to do was look at herself. Ugly. Marked. She knew what a knife could do. What a man could do. How he could strike and slice and break your body until he broke your soul.

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After a short drive into town, Hannah stopped at the valet in front of Reno’s, heart pounding, damp palms gripping the steering wheel. Maybe she wasn’t ready. And she might have slipped right on through the parking lot and straight back home, but for the baby-faced attendant who opened her door and offered his hand. Just inside the restaurant, one she’d only heard of in terms of how impossible it was to get a table, she was greeted by a pretty little hostess in a black, knee-length cocktail dress. “Good evening. Welcome to Reno’s.” “Thank you.” She wiped her hands on her silky black pants. She didn’t own dresses, so this and a flowing top would have to do. Zach bought her clothes for Christmas, or rather his current girlfriend helped him make online purchases. Rarely needed, but tonight she was grateful. She’d added sandals with tiny gems and for once left her hair down. “A table?”

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“I’m um…meeting someone, but I…” She looked past the girl into the elegant bar area. “Mr. McKinney?” “What?” “You’re meeting Stephen McKinney?” How could she know that? Had Stephen told her? Described her? “Yes. I am.” “He’s waiting at the bar. Just through there.” She gestured with her hand. “Or I can get him if you’d like.” So he came here often enough to be known. And the woman in front of her looked all too eager to get him herself. Probably not a murderer then. Probably. “No. I’ll find him. Thank you.” Excitement warred with nervous energy as she moved into the darkened space. Delicate glasses clinked among conversations and laughter, soft light and shiny people. Heads turned, casually taking in the stranger entering their midst.

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She spotted Stephen easily. He stood at least half a head above the rest, looking completely at ease, his forearm resting against the bar, a glass of clear liquid in his hand. Nerves fluttered and she stared, undecided which way to go, advance or retreat. Then he looked up. His hot gaze locked with hers and he crossed the room like a cat approaching prey. He was wearing black dress pants as he had this morning, his white shirt revealing a hint of dark hair at his open collar. Absolutely lethal. “Hi.” He leaned in, brushed his lips against her cheek. “You came.” “Yes.” The subtle scent of aftershave combined with the sheer size of him and the silky caress of his freshly shaven cheek did funny things to her stomach. And other parts. A woman in a backless top bumped him in the crowded space and turned. “Stephen.” Her voice was low and sultry, her dark eyes flared with recognition. She casually sipped

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her tiny purple drink with fruity things floating on top and took in Hannah over the rim. Easily dismissing her, she swung a faintly amused gaze back to Stephen. “I see now how busy you were.” “I think my exact words were, something came up,” Stephen said pleasantly. Not seeming overly concerned, the woman gave a small nod of understanding and an undaunted smile before she spun away with her female friend. When he turned his focus back on her, all she could think was that this man was so far out of her league. If she even had a league. Which she didn’t. Thinking to end this charade swiftly, she opened her mouth to thank him and make a quick exit. “Your table’s ready,” the hostess interrupted, and motioned toward the main dining room. Table?

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He angled his head down close to her ear. “I hope you don’t mind. We can still have a drink at the bar if you want.” “No. It’s…fine.” And really hard to think with Stephen’s hand splayed at her lower back, guiding her with gentle pressure behind the hostess. Stephen pulled out her chair at a table for four like a perfect gentleman, then, instead of taking the seat across from her, he sat directly to her left. The waiter promptly introduced himself and reeled off the specials as Stephen gave the wine list a once-over. “Do you have a preference?” No. She didn’t know wine. Didn’t eat or drink fancy food. Didn’t really drink at all. And had made a date for drinks with a fancy man. Brilliant, Hannah. Excellent decision making. “I’m good with water.” He ordered an iced tea, then turned his undivided attention on her. “I thought we

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could have dinner. It’s quieter here, easier for us to talk.” Talk. Right. Which would be good if she had any idea what to say. She smiled, nodded, still getting used to being this close to him. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” “Neither was I.” She tried to smile under his scrutiny, twirled a piece of hair around her finger, caught herself, and let it go. “You had other plans tonight?” “I did. And then I didn’t.” He picked up his water glass and leaned back. “And so did you, if I remember.” The corners of his mouth turned up the slightest bit, his deep brown eyes exuding every bit of confidence she didn’t feel. “Yeah.” She bit her lip, wishing she hadn’t brought it up. “I had this thing with my brothers.”

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“Ah.” He drew out the word like he’d just uncovered an important secret. Like it was everything he needed to know. Luckily the waiter arrived before she could make another verbal stumble. He asked for their order and her hands flew to the menu. Seconds ticked by as she scanned too many choices. “Should I come back?” A woman laughed across the room, her shimmering silk catching the light as she leaned into the man next to her. Hannah felt the heat creeping into her cheeks. Bad idea. This had been such a bad idea. She didn’t belong here. “What about the filet medallions?” Stephen suggested. “Or you can think about it. No rush.” “Yes.” She snapped her menu closed. “That’s good. Great. I’ll have that.”

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There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, at least on her part. Stephen looked perfectly relaxed. He sipped his iced tea, the heavy watch around his thick wrist reflected the candlelight. He had big hands. So…male. Radiating confidence with his commanding presence, while she was pretty sure she was radiating the opposite. Maybe next time she should consider stepping out of her comfort zone, instead of giving herself a full-out shove. He stared at her and she found herself wanting to do the same to him. To gaze at that perfect mix of gorgeous and hard edge. At eyes like smooth melted chocolate. His lips firm and masculine. She wondered— “I hope the rest of your day was better.” It took her a second to think. Oh, right. He’d seen her crying and she knew from her brothers that nothing made a man more uncomfortable than a girl crying. “Yes. It was. Sorry about that.”

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“No problem. I have a sister and…” His eyes locked with hers. “I’m not scared away that easily.” Her lungs seemed to freeze up at his look, his tone, and she glanced over the whitecloth-covered table, searching for something to say. “How was your day?” “It was good.” Surprise touched his eyes and his lips curved past half smile straight into deadly zone. “So you ride horses?” Her heart dropped with a burst of panic. He shouldn’t know where she lived. “What?” “You had on riding pants earlier. Boots.” “Oh. Yeah.” She took a calming breath, willed her pulse to slow before she started to sweat. “I’m a physical therapist, but with horses. It’s called hippotherapy.” “Interesting. So you make people feel better.” “I hope so. That’s the goal, anyway.”

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“I’m sure you do.” The look in his eyes and the tone of his voice left no room for uncertainty. Like if he said it, it must be true. The waiter interrupted with their appetizers and gave her something to focus on other than the ultra-intense man beside her. Though sitting this close to him, even eating took concentration. She took a small sip of water and tried to relax. “What about you?” He cut into his filet. “Real estate and property development. Hotels mostly. Resorts.” “So you make people feel better too, I guess. If it’s a nice hotel.” “I never thought about it like that, but yes.” She reached for her water again and bumped the glass, nearly tipping it. Stephen righted it with sharp reflexes and a steady hand, his warm fingers brushing against hers. As much as he was calm and cool, she was taut and twitchy.

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“My mom called me the king of spills,” he said and casually sipped his iced tea. “That’s hard to believe.” More like impossible, but he was trying to make her feel better. “It’s true. Though I usually blamed it on whichever brother was sitting beside me. Or better yet, my sister.” Amusement warmed his eyes and in turn warmed her. “How many brothers?” she asked as the waiter set down their entrees and left. “Five brothers. One sister.” “Oh, Lord. Poor girl.” He laughed, a deep male rumbling sound that made her smile. “Trust me, there is nothing poor about Lizzy. She’s been busting our balls since she was in the cradle.” “Are you the oldest?” “No. Tony’s the oldest. Then Matt, Andrew, me, Patrick, Lizzy, and J.T. She’s

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almost the youngest, but still in charge. What about you?” “Four brothers, all older.” “I bet you ran the poor guys ragged.” She’d caused them a lot of trouble for sure. Had there ever been the good kind of trouble? The fun kind? “Yeah, I guess, but…it was a different situation. They’re all a lot older, and…our parents died when I was two.” Stephen paused and returned his fork to the edge of his plate. He covered her hand with his, made a light caress with his thumb. “I’m sorry.” The soft expression in his eyes combined with his touch had her heart melting, her guard slipping. “It turned out okay. I was raised by wolves, but…” She shrugged and he uncovered her hand. “You don’t look like you were raised by wolves.”

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He picked up his fork as he spoke and, dear God, that lopsided, dimpled grin could kill a woman. She forced her attention to her plate lest she become the next casualty. “My sister might say the same thing. About the wolves,” he added. And just like that he had her smiling again, the tension easing, and they fell into easy conversation about families. He shared childhood antics of the McKinney boys, and her nervous stomach eased as she ate and listened, so completely sucked in by his smooth voice and the movement of his lips when he talked. They lingered over coffee and dessert, two hours passing more easily than she ever thought they could. Twenty-six years old and she’d lived through her first date. Well, the dinner portion anyway.

Chapter 4 Stephen gazed at the woman next to him. Watched another bite of chocolate mousse slip slowly between her full, pink lips. Her tongue slipped out to lick what was left and he imagined doing the same. Just watching her eat made him sweat. Even more beautiful than he remembered, and he had a damn good memory. Golden hair tumbled seductively in waves around her shoulders. He imagined how it would feel sliding over his skin. Wearing little makeup if any, the porcelain skin of her cheeks glowed in the soft light. She wore no jewelry other than tiny diamond studs in her delicate earlobes. Another place he imagined his mouth. He’d watched her before, saw her start into the bar, then stop, and he’d felt a strange

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twinge in his gut, afraid she might turn around and run. He might have been wrong before about the nervous act and he didn’t like being wrong. Being wrong meant you lost, something he hated even more. He liked easy; she was anything but. Though staring into Hannah’s eyes over candlelight, he forgot what he liked. Forgot damn near everything. Usually by this point in the evening he was more than ready to move things along. Either they were going to bed, or they weren’t and in that case he was done talking and ready to go home. Have a drink. Be alone. The bill paid, the dessert now gone, he couldn’t put it off any longer. They rose, passing mostly empty tables, and walked outside. The valet had already brought his car up, but not hers. Good. He wanted more time. When Hannah passed the guy her ticket,

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Stephen intercepted, reaching around for the keys. “I’ll take those.” “Yes, sir.” The young valet pointed to her car a short distance away. They walked in silence, and stopped beside it. It was odd ending a date this way, standing outside a car. It usually ended with him slipping out of a woman’s bed mildly rested and covered with guilt. “I had a good time tonight,” she said, flicking her eyes up at him, then away. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome. Did I pass the test? Can I have your number now?” No answer. Second time today she’d refused him and still, he ached to arch her back, taste that sweet mouth, nip his way across her cheek and down her throat. “How do you feel about parties?” “Um…” Her eyes were everywhere but on him, teeth pressing into that bottom lip he

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was dying to suck into his own. “I’m not really into parties.” “I think you’ll like this one.” She held out her hand for her keys. “No, but thank you.” “Hmm. The birthday girl will be very disappointed. If I don’t make an appearance she’ll get her feelings hurt. I’d hate to do that.” Something flashed in her eyes at the mention of another woman. So she wasn’t totally uninterested. Good. “Why can’t you go by yourself?” “I don’t want to go by myself. I want to go with you.” “Well, if she really wants you to come to her party, she probably won’t be very happy about you bringing a friend.” “No, she’d love me to bring a friend. Definitely the more-the-merrier type.”

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“I don’t think so.” Hannah turned to her car, remembered he still had her keys and turned back with her hand out. “You sure? Turning five is a pretty big deal.” Her mouth dropped open. “Five?” “Yes. My niece. Gracie.” He grinned, enjoying her shock. “It’s at my brother’s tomorrow. Five o’clock. Give me your address and I’ll pick you up.” Her eyes met his and he waited. When the wind blew a long strand of hair across her face, they both reached for it. The second their fingers touched, she dropped her hand and eased back a tiny step, putting space between him that he didn’t like. “Okay. Scratch that. You have a pen in there?” He pointed toward her purse. She handed him one and he took out his wallet and scribbled his brother’s address on the back of a receipt.

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She studied the piece of paper and he thought again that if she didn’t show he had no way of finding her and this could be the last time he ever saw her. “I want you to come.” Eyes locked with his, she took a long deep breath and let it out before answering. “Okay.” “Okay you’ll come, or just okay?” She sighed, playful and exasperated, then she smiled, and it hit him like a blow to the chest. “I’ll try.” He got the distinct impression that trying would be more than just a matter of working out other engagements, and that odds were high she wouldn’t come. He kissed her cheek, letting his lips linger against her soft skin. He didn’t want to pull back, had a hot vision of pushing forward. But he straightened and opened her door, feeling another twinge of doubt when she slipped inside.

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As she drove away, he thought about his invitation. He did want her to come, that hadn’t been a lie. But it wasn’t the only reason. His brother Matt had made it his personal mission to bring Stephen back into the family fold. It was hard to rebuild bridges, even harder to cross them. But maybe with Hannah, shy and sweet, he could at least appear more together than he was. It never hurt to take a little diversion in the form of a beautiful woman. — “So what do you think?” Matt asked. Stephen stood in his brother’s home office, plans for Matt’s new renovation project laid out in front of them. “It’s good.” But neither Stephen’s eyes nor his mind were on his brother’s plans just now.

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Matt’s weren’t either. He could feel his big brother studying him as he leaned over the desk. Stephen knew what his brother saw. Eyes that weren’t as haunted, not as wild with anger. But there was also no real joy, just a tired void. Little remained of the old Stephen since he’d lost his fiancée almost five years ago. He smiled at the camera for the society page, but he figured Matt saw the emptiness behind it as only a brother could. Stephen angled his head and looked back over his shoulder. “You going to be staring at me all night?” Matt took a slow sip of his beer. “Nope,” he said thoughtfully. “I don’t think I need to.” “You don’t.” Stephen straightened. “But if you’re worried, you shouldn’t have asked me to come.” “I’m not worried, and you’ve always been welcome. You know that.”

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Yeah. He knew. But the longer he’d stayed away, the harder it was to come back. He moved from the drafting table to stare out the window. “Look, I know what you’re thinking, and—” “No. I don’t think you do. Stephen—” “Well, fuck me. She’s here.” Stephen looked across his brother’s manicured lawn at the newest guest coming down the sidewalk. “I can’t believe she actually came.” “What?” Matt followed his line of sight. “Who’s here?” “My date,” Stephen said, surprised at how badly he’d wanted her to come. He was halfway out the door when he heard his brother’s shocked response. In white pants and a pastel, long-sleeved top, she walked past parked cars, following the curve of the cul-de-sac. Beautiful, sweet, and…not alone.

Chapter 5 Stephen was still five yards away when a large man caught up to her. That was bad enough, but when the guy wrapped his hand around her upper arm, he had an instant hell no response. A wave of possessiveness slid down his spine. An emotion that had no place in him, was unwelcome, and surprising, but he sure as hell didn’t want anyone else’s hands on her. Hannah faced down the stranger and the two of them began a heated discussion. Lucky for him, the guy dropped his hand just as the three of them converged at the end of the sidewalk leading to Matt’s front door. Stephen took in the other man, not quite as tall as he was, but he had bulk that showed through his olive-green army T-shirt.

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Stephen reached them and conversation stopped. “Hannah.” “Hi.” She sent him a somewhat reluctant smile. “This is my brother. Luke.” Brother. That cooled him a bit. Hannah introduced him and Stephen took Luke’s hand in a hard grip as each man sized up the other. They dropped hands and Luke gave his sister a searing glance. “Thanks for the invite, but she’s not staying.” Stephen didn’t like the tone or the glare. “He’s right,” Hannah said. “This isn’t a good idea.” Stephen didn’t take his eyes from hers. “I think it’s a very good idea.” Hannah held up a shiny pink bag with overflowing ribbon. “I’m sorry. I can’t stay. This is for your niece.” Stephen didn’t take the gift. “Hannah.”

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That one word from her brother seemed to convey an entire conversation between them, which pissed him off almost as much as Luke wrapping his fingers around her upper arm. Stephen shifted, aiming to put himself between her and Luke. “Brother or not, you need to take your hand off her arm.” Luke angled his head and shot Stephen an icy look. “This is a family discussion.” “Really?” Not backing down, he fired his own right back. “I think she’s old enough to make her own decisions.” Hannah’s eyes moved between the two of them, obviously uncomfortable. Luke turned his body to hers. “Hannah. Don’t be an idiot.” A flash of hurt crossed her face and that bothered Stephen more than anything, but her chin lifted a bit and she straightened. His brother chose that moment to join their party.

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“Matt McKinney.” Matt offered his hand to Luke. “I’m Stephen’s brother. Father of the birthday girl,” he added. “Glad you could come.” “Luke Walker.” He took Matt’s hand. “Senior chief, navy,” Matt said, eyeing the visible tattoo on Luke’s upper arm. “Delta Force.” Well, wasn’t this special. He eyed Hannah while Matt and Luke exchanged a few get-toknow-yous, where were you stationed, and joint exercises. Then, just when Luke looked like he was gearing up to whisk his sister away, Abby joined them. “This is my wife, Abby.” Matt slipped his arm around her waist. “Abby, this is Hannah, Stephen’s…friend. And her brother Luke.” “Hi.” Abby went straight to Hannah. “I’m so glad you could come. You’ll both stay,” she said, gracing Luke with a smile no man could resist. “You and Matt can exchange war

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stories while the rest of us talk like civilized people.” She gave Matt a wink as she laid a hand on Hannah’s arm. “Let’s go inside, sweetie. I could use some help.” Luke started to say something to Abby, caught Matt’s eye, and thought better of it. “Oh, Stephen, could you get something down for me? I can’t reach the platters above the stove.” Stephen paused, looked to Matt for help. He still had some words for the brother. Matt only shrugged. “You heard the woman, she needs a platter.” — Hannah followed Abby into an enormous kitchen and paused at a large island. Topped with black- and gold-flecked granite and lined with six bar stools, it dominated the room. Kind of like Stephen.

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He easily reached the platter above the refrigerator and set it on the island next to a deep sink. She’d been shocked at how badly she’d wanted to see him again. It’d been difficult to think of much else. “Thank you,” Abby said. Striking and graceful, with dark hair pulled back in a casual ponytail and brilliant green eyes, the petite woman moved around the kitchen, doing a million things at once. She sure didn’t look like she needed her help. Another woman popped into the kitchen dressed casually in a knee-length skirt and sandals. “Lizzy, this is Hannah. She came with Stephen. Hannah, Lizzy.” A lightning-quick look flashed between Lizzy and Stephen, then it was gone. “Hi. I’m Stephen’s one and only sister.” “Nice to meet you.” Hannah shook her hand, remembering Stephen’s stories of torment. She had the same soft brown eyes as her brothers and at first glance she didn’t

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look big enough to torment anyone. Though there was a sparkle of devilish fun when she smiled. Abby pushed a tray filled with hamburger patties at Stephen. “Could you take these out to Matt? I’m sure he could use you at the grill and I could use Hannah’s help in here.” “She means get out,” Lizzy added. “Matt might read your mind but you have to be more blunt with the rest of them.” Stephen rolled his eyes at his sister then sent Hannah a questioning glance. “I’m fine.” She didn’t get the chance to hang around with women, and her mind was still reeling with the whole Luke incident. He hesitated another second, then must have decided it was okay to leave her. “I’ll be outside.” She watched him go, thinking he didn’t look so large and in charge with his sister and sister-in-law.

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Lizzy leaned her elbows on the island. “So how long have you known Stephen?” Lizzy asked. “Not long.” A day. And now that she was here, it sounded crazy even to her. When Luke had asked her point-blank where she was going, she couldn’t lie and the conversation had gone downhill from there. No way was she going to a man’s house alone. They argued. He won. But arriving here at a strange house, seeing Stephen approaching like a man on a mission, she’d been a tiny bit glad Luke was there. She might have chickened out alone. “I hope it’s okay that I came. Stephen said—” “Are you kidding? Of course it is,” Abby said. “And trust me, Gracie never met a person, animal, or rock she didn’t like.” “And Luke, too. He uh…kind of cornered me about where I was going tonight and insisted on driving me.”

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“He’s protective. Don’t worry about it.” Abby angled her knife toward a large window facing the front yard. “Those men have more testosterone than they need. Your brother will fit right in.” “Brother?” Lizzy raised an eyebrow. “That hot, broody man I just passed with Matt?” Abby gave her sister-in-law a look. “What? I’m married. Not blind.” Still unsure, Hannah held up a bag. “This is for Gracie.” “You didn’t have to do that. But thank you,” Abby added, with a warm smile that put her at ease. Lizzy and Abby worked in tandem like they’d done it a million times. She’d never done that. Cooked with a woman. Gossiped and girl-talked. “Okay. The dip is ready,” Abby said. “And Hannah, if you’ll grab the vegetable tray.”

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She followed the women through the house onto a large deck. Late-afternoon sun cut a slash of sunlight across the outdoor living space complete with upholstered seating areas, balloons, and a crowd of people. The sound of squealing children hit her well before she saw them. She added her tray to a table draped in pink, fitting it between a bowl of potato salad and a platter of paprika-sprinkled deviled eggs. When she turned, she almost ran into a small, middle-aged woman with graying hair and eyes the same brown as Stephen’s. “Hi. I’m Marge, the birthday girl’s grandmother. So glad you could come.” She added that last bit with a squeeze and Hannah hugged her back. A willowy brunette introduced herself as Beth, married to Stephen’s brother Tony, and offered her a drink. More introductions were made, each one of them warm and welcoming. Even if they did all seem more than

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a little surprised at her being Stephen’s date. Because he brought someone or her in particular? A small boy with bright blond hair raced over, snatched a juice box from a silver ice bucket, and took off down the steps again. “That little thief was my son, Charlie,” Abby told her. “And that’s Beth’s Louisa.” She gestured to the girl running after him. “But don’t worry. You don’t have to remember everyone.” That was good, because names and faces were starting to blur. “Did Stephen abandon you?” Beth asked. “No. We stole her.” Abby bent to pick up a little girl with a head full of brown curls toddling at her feet. “This is Mary.” She was maybe two and wearing a pink gingham dress with tiny kittens around the neck. She hid her face in her mother’s neck before Hannah could say hi.

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“She’s better off with us,” Lizzy continued and popped a grape in her mouth. “Stephen joined the man club at the grill. I swear I think half the time they’re just standing around that thing with nothing on it.” Lizzy pointed with her drink toward a group of men surrounding the grill on the patio below. Stephen stood with them, but seemed slightly apart somehow. In jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, this was the first time she’d seen him casual. It suited him as much as the serious businessman. She’d never gotten the chance just to watch him, just admire without him seeing. His skin was tan, like a man who spent more time outside than in an office. Thick biceps flexed against the fabric when he raised a glass bottle to his lips. Even without the suit, Stephen looked like ruler of the universe. Effortlessly warrior or knight, whatever suited him, while she was just…her.

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A child yelled over the balcony and he glanced up, his gaze clashing with hers, and she got a jolt straight to the heart. Jeez. Even from a distance, he did something to her. Made her skin buzz with just a look. He mouthed Okay? and she nodded then quickly focused on the other end of the yard. At least twenty kids, boys and girls, ranging from ten to toddler ran around a swing set draped with pink and purple streamers. She’d been sure a party with Stephen was a bad idea, she’d barely fit in at the restaurant, but then he’d mentioned it was a kid’s party and…kids she could do. “Last batch coming off now,” Matt called from below. Lizzy stepped beside her at the railing. “Prepare for chaos.” Her words were almost drowned out by happy screams and pounding feet coming up the stairs. In seconds, the deck swarmed with little people and the air filled with shouts of I’m hungry, when can

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we eat, and a chorus of Mom!, to which every woman answered, What? Except her. Before she had time to dwell on it, she felt a small tapping on her leg. A little girl peered up at her, summer-blue eyes pooling with tears. “I dwopped my weenie.” “Well, let’s get you another one.” Hannah took the tiny angel by the hand and walked her to the table. After that small crisis, she busied herself poking straws in juice boxes, saving toppling plates, and wiping ketchup faces, all while snagging bites of her own hot dog. Condiments were spread, drinks poured. It was a sea of people, big mingling with little, some on hips, others bouncing on their own feet as they aimed food at their mouths. Amusement park loud and disaster zone messy. And she loved it. “Hey.”

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The sudden sound of Stephen’s low voice behind her made her heart stutter. His male scent wrapped around her. She’d been good with his family, his mom asking for her help, his dad, Anthony Senior, teasing her. But with one word from the man she’d come to see, her heart raced. “Sorry for deserting you.” She turned to face him, her entire body going hot and flushed and he wasn’t even touching her. “You didn’t. I like your family, all the kids. They’re great.” “Yeah.” He looked around the deck like he was seeing them for the first time and she thought she caught a bit of longing in his face, then it was gone. “I’m ready for cake!” Gracie yelled, and the rest of the kids backed her up, dumping their dinner in favor of dessert. Stephen smiled. “A McKinney tradition. Cake above protein.”

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Matt lifted Gracie to stand in a chair and the family circled around her. With soft brown curls and deep dimples, her brown eyes literally twinkling, Gracie was possibly the cutest thing Hannah had ever seen. Abby and Matt stood on either side and kissed her cheeks as others snapped photos. A pictureperfect moment. One to store in a child’s memory and keep forever. Though she had few pictures, she did have fond memories of her own birthdays. Celebrated in various restaurants, always just her and her brothers, but they’d never once forgotten. As the family sang, Stephen stepped next to her, close enough that she got that tinglyon-the-verge-of-chills feeling. He shifted and his upper arm brushed against the top of her shoulder. The warmth inside her spread, awakening possibilities she’d never considered. That she would ever meet a man.

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That he would ever be interested in her. And more, that she would want him to be.

Chapter 6 After cake, the entire party moved down to the yard. Stephen stood with his brothers and watched the madness that was a child’s birthday party. “So, where’d you find her?” Tony gestured toward Hannah where she knelt a few yards away, tying his nephew’s shoe. He’d hung back, let her do the girl thing, let her keep the spotlight away from him as he’d wanted. But she’d never been out of his sight. “Grocery store.” “Really?” Andrew grinned. “Didn’t know you shopped. Being sexiest, most eligible man, and all.” His brothers laughed, added more colorful comments. Shit. “I’m never going to get past that one, am I?”

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“Never,” Tony said. “Maybe we should rough you up a bit.” “You can try.” He smiled at the familiar sibling harassment, how some things never changed. Though he’d been hugged by his mother at least eight times, received multiple pats on the back by his father, tonight hadn’t been as uncomfortable as he’d feared. Because of Hannah. His family’s curious spotlight shined on her, as he’d known it would. God, she was sweet. The way her hair sparkled in the last ribbons of sunlight poking through the pines. The way she blushed every time their eyes met. But the delicate fabric blowing against her chest, outlining perfect breasts he dreamed of cupping in his hands…that didn’t bring to mind the word sweet. Unless he was thinking about them in his mouth. Shit. He tipped his bottle and took a long drink. How could someone with such a hot,

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luscious body look so damn innocent? Definitely a puzzle. His nieces and nephews were certainly drawn to her, as she now had a line of untied shoes. Luke stood across the yard, nodding at something Matt said, and their eyes met. It was a game they’d played all evening. Each letting the other know he was watching. And knowing that, he took three purposeful strides to stand beside Hannah. She glanced up and smiled, quick and nervous. He held out his hand and felt the slight tremble when her fingers touched his. He pulled her to her feet. “Cute,” she said, almost wistfully as she watched the last kid run away. “Yeah.” But his eyes were on Hannah. The evening breeze lifted a few satiny strands and brushed them over his arm. Barely a touch, but the heat that rushed through his body burned hot and strong.

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He forced his attention to a group of kids, running, puffing, and diving, in a desperate game to keep feathers off the ground without using their hands. “Would this have been one of those times you and your brothers did something crazy?” “Probably. You need a drink?” He’d barely gotten the words out when he felt a thump on the arm followed by a cold splash and Hannah’s gasp. Water balloon. He took in her stunned expression, her wet shirt now practically transparent on one side. He looked around for the source and saw his nephew Jack a few feet away, obviously the guilty party with his hand still hanging in the air. Matt stepped close and laid a protective hand on Jack’s shoulder. All adult chatter ceased and he felt their eyes fall on him like accusing fingers. Are they that afraid I’m going to lose it?

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Shame washed over him, knowing why they would. He’d blown up on Christmas Eve three years ago. Broken a bottle against his mother’s hearth, screamed and cursed in front of his brothers’ kids. Made his sister’s baby cry. So consumed by anger, guilt, and grief. After that he’d made sure he was out of town for holidays. For most days. Rome. Zurich. Barcelona. Didn’t matter. He’d pour bourbon down his throat, screw the woman in his bed, then drink more to forget what he’d just done. His family worried, looked at him with sad sorry eyes as they did now. And he hated it. They wanted the old Stephen back, the gentle, lighthearted man he’d been. That man didn’t exist anymore. He wasn’t fit for a children’s party, even if Matt didn’t want to believe it. His gut reaction was to leave, throwing a dark cloud over another family gathering,

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except…Hannah laughed. A sound so beautiful he was caught by it, in it. The game went on. Squeals and shouts. Conversation and movement. Everything continued around them, disaster averted. The silk of her blouse wasn’t loose anymore, but sticking to her chest, outlining her bra beneath. Her nipples stood hard against the thin, soaked fabric and his mouth went dry. “You’re cold,” he said, finally finding his voice. “I mean…” It was cool out, but—Fuck. “Are you cold? Do you want to take it off?” Shit. Of course he hadn’t meant here and now. He should stop talking. Her smile slipped and the pretty pink blush on her cheeks spread along her delicate throat, leading his eyes lower…where they did not need to go. “Stephen.” He jerked his eyes from her chest at the sound of his mother’s voice.

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“Get your friend a towel.” A towel. Right. “Hannah.” Abby approached. “I’m sorry about that.” She passed her a towel as if she’d known they’d be needed eventually. Jack edged up beside his mother. “Sorry, Uncle Stephen.” He looked down into the brown eyes of a boy he barely knew. His own fault. Not Jack’s. “It’s okay,” Hannah said. “No harm done.” “Yeah,” Stephen added. “Good aim.” “Not really. I was trying to hit Charlie, but he ran behind you.” Oh, well. Jack didn’t wait, just smiled and took off. Abby turned away as well, leaving him trying not to watch Hannah rub her breast. “Hannah, push me!” Gracie shouted to her from the swing set.

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Good idea. They both joined Gracie at the swings. He watched Hannah push, and spent the next fifteen minutes trying hard not to check the status of her drying shirt. Soon the party wound down. The kids went inside to watch a movie, leaving the adults to relax on the deck against the backdrop of a setting sun. Adult drinks were poured, beers opened, and someone picked up a guitar. By the time he got to the deck, Lizzy already had Hannah talking, which was good. It seemed he’d forgotten how to talk to a woman. For a guy so seemingly charming, he never had to use much charm. Or any. There were plenty of women who were happy enough to do all the talking. Hannah wasn’t one of them. But that was one benefit of a big family. Always someone to pick up the conversational slack. He sat with his arm around the back of Hannah’s chair and listened to her, much

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more at ease talking to his sister than to him. Matt’s oldest daughter, Annie, cuddled quietly in his lap while he and Luke sat in deep discussion about the latest toys Uncle Sam had to offer. Lizzy, a child psychologist, continued to pick Hannah’s brain about the benefits of animal therapy, specifically horseback riding. It was interesting, but more than anything, he liked listening to the sound of her voice. The whole scene was very domestic. And very not him. This was the first time he’d been around his family with a woman since…no. He blocked the name and the pain that came with it. Not so sharp he couldn’t breathe, but that was only because his heart no longer worked. “You brought me a present?” Gracie asked, surprise and delight shining in her eyes. He hadn’t noticed his niece join them. He’d seen a pile of gifts inside from family

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members he assumed were to be opened later. But Abby, being the perfect hostess, must have called Gracie out to open Hannah’s gift while she was here. “Well, it is your birthday, right?” Hannah smiled sweetly down at his niece. Gracie reached into the bag filled with silver shreddings and pulled out a stuffed pony covered in a patchwork of rainbow-bright fabrics, silky and glittering. “I love horses!” Gracie threw her arms around Hannah’s neck. “I love them more than anything in the whole world.” Hannah returned the hug. “Well, maybe your mom and dad can bring you out to see my horse.” “Mommy, she said I can go see her horse! Can I? Will you take me? Daddy, will you take me to see Hannah’s horse?” Not waiting for answers, Gracie turned back all smiles and happiness. “I’m coming

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to see your horse, Hannah. Maybe I’ll even ride him with you.” Hannah glanced up at Abby with a soft expression. “She really is welcome. Just call me.” “Thank you. She’d love that.” With all eyes on her, Hannah seemed to retreat a bit. She wet her lips, fiddled with the napkin in her lap. “Of course all of the kids are welcome. Anyone really.” There was a yell from inside, and his brother’s wife, Sarah, stood with their newborn in her arms. “I’ll take her,” Abby said. The baby was passed to Abby but just barely, before Charlie came out screaming about how he’d been wronged, something about his spot. Abby turned. “Hannah, could you hold Lily for me?”

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Hannah’s arms were full of baby before she had time to answer. She adjusted in her seat, arranged the blanket, and reverently touched a finger to the baby’s downy head. After a few minutes of reverent staring, she looked at Stephen with a smile so bright, her expression so radiant, so full of love, that for just a second it felt…good. And then his heart imploded. Yeah, he’d wanted her, but not like this. He didn’t ever want a woman like this. It was wrong. All of it. Being here. Hannah holding the baby. And it was too much. This entire night was suddenly too fucking much. “Excuse me.” He shoved back in his chair as memories gained a chokehold around his throat. The iron legs scraped across the wooden deck, and he made a swift exit to the kitchen. He’d spent too many family gatherings imagining his wife beside him. Imagining his own babies being passed around the

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table, his own children adding to the mayhem. But that had all died a violent, bloody death. And so had he. With his hands braced on the edge of the sink, he sucked in air through his nose, trying not to be sick. His fist tightened on the bottle in his hand. His muscles tensed, thinking how good it would feel to heave it across the room, hear the glass shatter. Hear something outwardly break, like he’d been broken. He’d spent the first two years in a bottle and he’d still felt lost. The next two years screwing a multitude of women. And he’d still been alone. Then he’d turned to work, where he managed, commanded. It had brought him wealth and power, but it hadn’t brought her back. It only filled the holes, or if not filled, at least covered them.

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The muscles in his arms trembled at the need to throw something bigger. Hit something. Hurt someone. This is why he avoided his family. Why he avoided anything and anyone that made him feel too much. He pushed the bottle aside and looked down at his hands, white-knuckled, blue veins thickening to the surface. The hands of a man who wanted to draw blood and cause pain. Hands he knew could kill. Inviting Hannah here had been a mistake. Coming here at all felt like a royal mistake, even more so when he heard swift footsteps entering the kitchen behind him. “I like her,” Lizzy said, coming further into the room. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced out a long, heavy breath. He did not want to blow up at his niece’s party. He’d had a bad moment, but he was pulling it together, pulling himself back together. He might not entirely like the man he was now, but he could live

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with it. He could function instead of being the broken-down mess he’d been for so long. Lizzy opened the dishwasher and started loading it like it was her own house. “She’s nice.” “Yeah.” Too nice. “Looks like a keeper,” Lizzy said, rinsing a glass. “Maybe for someone.” “Really?” She stopped what she was doing and faced him. “So you’re not trying to keep her?” “Hell, no.” Stephen turned to stare at her, appalled she would even think that, that anyone would think that. He’d wanted a date, a diversion. Not a— “I was just being nice, for God’s sake. Does she look like the kind of woman I’d want to spend time with? Jesus, Lizzy.” Movement across the room caught his eye and too-sweet Hannah stood there, looking

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at him like he’d just slapped her across the face. Her wide eyes swung from his to Lizzy’s and back again. “I um…I was just…” Her entire being seemed to collapse like wet cotton candy. Fuck. “Hannah—” “I have to go.” Even as she spoke she was turning, her hair flying out around her shoulders. Stephen wiped his hands over his face, throwing out every curse at himself he could think of. He caught up with Hannah a half second after she reached her brother, still deep in conversation with Matt. “I’m ready to go.” Conversation between the men ceased, her brother’s attention swinging to her. “Okay.” Luke rose and shook Matt’s hand while Stephen stood to the side like an unnecessary extra.

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Matt held out his hand to Hannah. “Glad you came. And thank you for Gracie’s gift. She’ll no doubt be dreaming of horses.” “She’s welcome anytime.” Matt gave Stephen a curious look, as he was standing so far away from his date. Yeah, he should be right beside her, trying his damnedest to get another one. Not going to happen. Stephen followed the three of them to the door, an awkward few steps behind, saw Luke take her elbow, and caught his low, “What’s up?” She shook her head. “Nothing.” She was lying. Stephen could see that, figured her brother could too. Her smile faked and forced, not at all like the one he’d worked for last night at dinner or the one she’d given freely just an hour ago. But he didn’t want to have to work to make her smile, or worry when she wasn’t. Didn’t

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want to be with someone who mattered. So he stepped up, opened the front door, and stuck out his hand to Luke. “Thanks for coming.” Luke squeezed. The look in his eyes said he hadn’t believed his sister’s nothing answer. Stephen squeezed back, meeting the man’s strength, each sending his own message. And Hannah walked out of the house without a word or a backward glance, clearly sending hers.

Chapter 7 Hannah stabbed at the soiled hay and hefted another load of manure into the wheelbarrow. She didn’t mind the work, it was the memory of her weekend she was trying to scoop out. Frustrated, embarrassed, and the more she fought it, the louder the replay. How happy she’d been with his family, how just looking at him gave her butterflies. How she’d started thinking about maybes and what-ifs. Stephen’s words hadn’t been aimed at her on purpose, but thirty-six hours later she was still feeling the direct hit. A valuable lesson. There was more than one way a man could hurt you. And good that it happened now before she’d figured out exactly what those maybes and what-ifs might be.

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With a sigh, she tossed fresh hay on the floor. The scent tickled her nose and tiny bits glittered through a stream of morning sunlight from the stall’s outside window. Had she actually thought a man like him would be interested in her? She finished spreading and lifted the heavy wheelbarrow, pausing at the initial pain in her arms and hands. Just as she rounded the barn to dump its contents, the crunch of tires on gravel made her turn. Luke. Wearing jeans, his standard green T-shirt, and scuffed boots, her brother sauntered to the fence, propped his big foot against the lowest wooden rail, and waited. Might as well get it over with. She left her chores and came to stand beside his tall, muscular frame. He remained silent and so did she. Having begged off her brothers’ invitation last night, claiming exhaustion, she hadn’t

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seen or spoken to Luke since he’d dropped her off after the party. He’d given her a knowing look, but thankfully hadn’t pushed. She wasn’t about to discuss it with her brothers. Not what had or hadn’t happened with Stephen. Or worse, what she’d wanted to happen. That she’d been naive enough to think one date meant something. The open fields of Freedom Farm stretched in front of her, meeting the vibrant blue sky. Winnie swished her tail at a fly and tossed her glorious blond mane. Hannah took a deep breath, inhaling the clean scent of spring air. Just being here eased her. It’s where she’d healed. Where she was strongest. Luke still hadn’t spoken and she took in his tightly fisted hands, hanging over the rail. He didn’t say much on his few visits home. Fierce and strong, quiet with a touch of sad. But his eyes had always said he loved her.

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“I’m surprised Nick hasn’t been all over me,” she said. “No doubt you shared.” She cringed just thinking about Nick’s reaction to her going to a strange man’s house. “I don’t report to Nick. He asked. I answered.” Great. But the tension when he said Nick’s name had her wanting to smooth what she could. “It’s okay, Luke. I’m not mad. I mean, I was a little, but—” “Damn it, Hannah, you should be. You’re too damn soft.” He spoke with a bite of heat, then shook his head and sighed. “Sorry. I came out here to say I’m sorry. Not for going with you,” he added quickly, “or putting a kink in your party or date or whatever the hell it was. But…for insinuating that you’re not smart. I mean, hell, obviously you are.” Yeah, she’d taken college classes at fourteen, but it hadn’t been the kind of smart a girl needed. And she knew what her brother meant. “Just not life smart.”

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“Shit, Han. You’re smart all around, but…” “But?” “But you don’t even know that guy.” “That was kind of the point. Partly the point,” she added at Luke’s glare, “because he didn’t know anything about me either. But don’t worry. It won’t be a problem. I’m not going to see him anymore.” “Why?” She looked at the ground. “Just didn’t work out.” Luke made a rough sound under his breath. “Then he’s a jackass.” Hannah smiled. Luke was sweet, in a broody sort of way, intense and handsome. He should have someone to love who loved him back. Sometimes she wondered if all her brothers avoided fatherhood after being so abruptly thrust into the role because of her. “I’m sorry.”

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“Wow,” she said, raising her eyebrows and smiling. “You really do feel bad, to apologize twice.” “I’m not apologizing for that. I’m apologizing…for leaving and…for not being there all those years.” She knew the years he meant that he didn’t want to say, the years nobody wanted to talk about. But also the years before. He’d left when she was three and she’d always wondered why. Because of their parents’ death? Because of her? The next time she’d seen him she’d been ten and barely recognized him from a picture on the mantel. “I guess the other night I was just thinking I have a lot to make up for.” She wrapped her arms around her brother’s wide shoulders, squeezed him as hard as she could. “No, you don’t.” His arms came around her in a hug that nearly crushed her ribs. “I want you to be happy, Han. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” He

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drew back, looking like maybe he wanted to say more. “I better get going.” She stretched up and kissed his cheek. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to be happy either.” Luke just nodded and set off across the field alone. She wondered what he did exactly. What he’d seen. Why he was home now and for how long. Seemed the tables were turning with her and her brothers. It was her turn to worry about them now. It felt good. — “Dee, can you get me Allen Mason on the phone?” “Certainly, Mr. McKinney.” “Also, line up a call with Crenshaw. If not today, then tomorrow.” Stephen released the intercom and spun his leather chair to a second computer. He worked hardest when he was trying to forget something and today

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he was running full speed. You get enough balls in the air, you can’t look down, can’t look around. Not even at yourself. He continued scrolling through a list of figures, double-checking the numbers that would likely win him a bid on a high-end resort off the coast of Indonesia. One that would make people feel better? A vision slammed in. Hannah’s sad eyes staring at a beer case, her lashes heavy with unshed tears. Her smile that knocked the breath from him over candlelight. Then that sharp look of shock and hurt on her face standing in the doorway at his brother’s. That’s the one he couldn’t get out of his mind. It was arrogance he’d let get in the way when she wouldn’t give him her phone number. Because he didn’t lose. Well, he sure as hell hadn’t won. Maybe it was just his mother’s voice in his head or his Catholic conscience, but he felt an overwhelming need to apologize. He

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might be a ruthless ass in business, but he didn’t hurt people intentionally. Or he didn’t use to. Had he changed that much? It was a fine line between shutting down to heal, to survive, without turning off completely. For years he’d danced dangerously close to that line between a man who felt too much and a man who felt nothing. The people he spent time with didn’t care, weren’t hurt. Business associates were just as hard, and women wanted nothing more than a really good, really expensive time. He didn’t like that he’d hurt Hannah. Maybe he’d look her up, just a quick phone call, smooth things over. But to what end? Before he could figure that out, there was one quick knock on his door and Dave entered. Stephen shook off the personal and shifted his attention to a stack of papers, giving his initial where needed. “What’s up, Dave?”

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“I finished up the Lennox deal. It all went down about like we figured.” “Okay. Send me the file and I’ll look it over.” “No need to look it over. It’s taken care of.” “Great.” Stephen raised his eyes to Dave’s. “But I’ll take a look just the same.” Dave held his gaze for a long second and there was just the slightest ripple of tension. Then it was gone. “I also met up with Stan Goodwin. Had a nice golf game.” “Good.” It always helped to have positive relationships with the city planner’s office. “So, what about that new property I told you about? Want to ride out there later?” “Not today. I don’t have—” There was a delicate knock and before he said “Come in,” a leggy brunette in a cherryred pencil skirt and breast-hugging blouse slipped through.

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“Hey. Camila.” Dave waved her in. “You’re just in time. Stephen’s going to scope out that area we spoke about earlier.” Great. Dave was so hot for this, he’d already made noise to their lawyer. “Sounds fun,” she said with just a hint of the sexy Cuban lilt she dialed up and down at will. “But I came by to go over the Fieldstone documents.” She lifted her leather briefcase. “Well, ride along.” A satisfied smile spread across Dave’s face. “When we move on this, we’ll need you up to speed.” “If we move on it,” Stephen said clearly. “Of course. If. I’ll hold down the fort here.” “Great,” Camila said. “Besides, I’m starving.” The feral look in her eyes said she wasn’t just talking about food, and Dave’s smile slipped even as Camila’s grew. She loved nothing more than to know a man wanted her. It was no secret Dave did.

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“Come on, Stephen. I’ll read it to you while you drive.” Camila ran a hand over her skirt in a not-so-subtle way of drawing attention to her curves. “Then you can take me to lunch.” “Fine.” Stephen stood, eager to get moving. He did need to go over Fieldstone. At least it wouldn’t be a total waste of time. Stephen led Camila to the parking garage and maneuvered the two-seater into traffic. Irritated with the stop-and-start pace, he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, grateful when Camila took a call and he could be with his own thoughts. Twenty-five minutes outside town, the four lanes narrowed to two, the upscale shops and restaurants gradually gave way to clumps of trees and open fields. He couldn’t imagine why Dave was so interested. Even though the city was always expanding and pushing outward, an office building or shopping plaza this far out didn’t make much

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sense. But he owed it to his partner to at least look. Dave had held things together when he could barely hold himself together. Even so, he wasn’t willing to put his signature and a huge chunk of revenue into a bad investment. He glanced down at the scant information Dave had given him while Camila opened another pocket of her briefcase and kept talking. When he reached the end of the road, he made a left, taking them along the backside of the property. Nearly forty acres, three-quarters wooded with mostly tall pine, the land rolled gently to the northeast corner, where it rose slightly to the highest point. There were no property line markings to show the exact sale portion, but he got the gist. His answer was still no. Anxious to get back to the office, he made two more turns and picked up speed along the south side. Wide-open fields flew by on

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his left, his right was dotted with small houses set back from the road. Winter grass trying to turn green, trees pushing out new leaves, horses, cows—Freedom Farm. The iron gate whizzed past, but not so fast that he missed the small black-and-white sign. Was that Hannah’s place? He’d half heard the name pass between her and his sister. Something Farm for sure. He slowed and angled off the pavement, before whipping around in a tight U-turn. Camila grabbed for the stack of papers sliding across her lap. “What are you doing?” “Just hold tight.” He slowed and turned through the open gate. “You know someone here?” “Maybe.” He followed a gravelly dirt road up a short distance, then down to a weathered barn straight out of a storybook. He stopped next to a shiny, black Suburban parked on worn grass.

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“I thought we were going to lunch.” Her full lips pushed up in a pout, but her eyes were all predatory. They’d had a quick, meaningless something over a year ago. Three times in bed, maybe four. Either way, it didn’t constitute a relationship. Camila had known that was off the table going in. She liked it rough and he’d liked giving it to her. The fire between them had burned fast and furious before going out, though the hand on his thigh said she’d like to strike a new match. “Make a phone call or something. I’ll just be a minute.” He got out, leaving the car running. It was eerily quiet; the only sound was the wind with no tall buildings to block it. A chunk of land divided by wooden fences lay to the right of the barn with another larger, open space rolling out behind it. Stephen walked toward the structure, dirt dusting the shine of his black dress shoes. He pulled at

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his tie and released the top button of his dress shirt. Three yards short of entering the black opening, a body stepped out of the darkness. A large man about Stephen’s height, filling out a button-down and khakis. His brown eyes studied Stephen like a human lie detector. Not the most welcoming for a children’s riding facility. Of course, this might not be the right place. He held out his hand. “Stephen McKinney.” Without a word, the man returned his firm grip. “I’m looking for Hannah Walker.” Eyes narrowed suspiciously and he dropped his hand. “What about?” Ahh. So he was in the right place. And he’d bet a cool million the grim-looking man in front of him was another brother. Stephen smiled. “That’s between us.”

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“That’s where you’re wrong.” The man shifted into a tighter stance. Stephen tamped down his temper, always at a low boil. It wouldn’t take much. He lived on the edge of wanting to hurt someone. Then he saw her. “Nick. I can speak for myself.” Hannah came toward him, tightly drawing together the sides of a long-sleeved button-up as she moved, closing herself off. Bit by bit she’d opened up to him over dinner, let her guard down. He hated that she looked braced for another slap. “Can we talk?” For a long minute her golden eyes held his, maybe searching for his true intentions. Maybe deciding if she even cared. She raised her chin a fraction and he caught the challenge in her eyes. “You can talk while I work.”

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Okay. Not exactly a conversation, but she’d listen. She turned on her heel and he followed, eyes on the tan fabric hugging her ass and thighs. Long and lean and sexy as hell in her knee-high riding boots. God, he loved this look on her. A cell phone buzzed and he heard her brother answer with a terse “Walker.” But he wasn’t much interested in what was going on behind him. Not when Hannah was in front. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail and a light sheen of sweat dampened her hairline. She moved without a word, stopping at a small room off to the left. A brown horse stretched his head over the stall door next to him and Stephen gave him a pat while he waited. Hannah returned, arms full. “Need some help?” “No.” There was an air of confidence about her here he hadn’t seen before, and she seemed

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to have hardened since the other night, which was good. He’d rather her be hard than hurt. She stopped beside a beast of a horse and talked softly to him as she untied his rope from an iron hook. She looked so small beside him. He opened his mouth to tell her to be careful. “Watch yourself,” she said, beating him to it, then wheeled the horse around to face an arch of light at the opposite end of the barn. She led the animal outside to a horse-size shower, and positioned him on the slab of concrete. Stephen scanned the open fields, the trees beyond. Not really a farm, that he could see. Just a modest barn with a few horses. Without property lines, it was impossible to tell if this place butted up against the piece Dave wanted or if a strip of land lay between. When she bent to turn on the water, he couldn’t think about anything. He

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was…entranced. By the pull of soft cotton over her breasts, the way they swayed every time she moved. He pictured those breasts in his hands, imagined holding her tight ass and running his palms up her back and around to cup her, tug at her nipples. Shit. Her brothers were right to try to protect her from him. She picked up a back hoof and cradled it between her thighs while she used a small metal tool to scrape out clumps of mud and grass. Competent and skilled, but he didn’t like her so close to something that could hurt her. “Can’t your brothers do that?” “My brothers? Why? It’s my job,” she said without looking up. “Not theirs.” The animal shifted his weight again and Hannah worked, giving no sign she cared why he was there or that he was there at all. He had to remind himself he didn’t want her to. “You ride him?”

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“That’s part of boarding; feeding, bathing, exercising. He’s not so bad, are you, boy?” She reached to pat his head, but he jerked away. “A little moody.” And, as if to prove it, his thick, black tail lifted, and he let loose a foul blow of air so strong, Stephen squinted against it. That was followed by heavy chunks of manure, each piece landing on top of the other with a plop. “Sorry about that. Roma’s not much on manners.” Stephen didn’t miss her smirk or the affectionate pat she gave his neck. Definitely a different side of her here in this setting, on her ground. “That’s some powerful shit. Is that where he got his name? Aroma?” Hannah smiled, wide and beautiful, even if it was aimed at the horse and not at him. “He tries, and, no. It’s Aromashodu. His owner’s a big football fan.” She picked up the hose and the animal danced a nervous

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sidestep, his hindquarters quivering under the drops of water. Time to get to it. He hadn’t exactly planned this, but now that he was here, he couldn’t let it go. “I wanted to apologize for the other night. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” “You didn’t.” Well, shit. He rubbed at the back of his neck. He wanted her to accept his apology, needed her to. “Hannah, I’m really sorry. I didn’t—” “I heard you.” She continued the bath, sluicing off the excess water with some kind of fancy plastic card. He’d been about to say he didn’t mean it, not at all the way it had sounded. But maybe it was better left alone. Better if she didn’t care. “Everything okay?” Nick asked, standing in the yawning doorway of the barn.

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“Yes,” she answered, then looked right at Stephen. “We’re finished.” And they were finished. He hadn’t come here to change that, except…they were finished before they’d even started. She led the horse back into the barn and he followed, waiting for her to close and secure the stall door. She took her time hanging the rope just so, then finally faced him. He hadn’t kissed her, hadn’t made her smile again the way he’d wanted to that first day. So beautiful. He could picture her in a castle tower like something out of a fairy tale. And in that same story he’d be the villain. The one who scared small children and dreamed of far worse. “Stephen!” They both turned at the sound of a female voice. Camila wobbled on spiky heels next to his car, fanning a bug from her face. “You said a minute. It’s been almost twenty.”

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Had it been that long? Didn’t seem like it. “I have meetings and so do you.” Stephen turned from Camila back to Hannah, a million possible things to say flying through his mind and none of them right. “Bye,” she said softly. Right. He nodded, repeated it, since it was really the only thing to say. And then he walked to his car, feeling like he’d just lost something really important.

Chapter 8 Hannah refused to watch Stephen drive away in his sporty silver car with his red-hot companion. She couldn’t even wrap her mind around the fact he’d wanted to apologize or that he’d even known where to find her. Lizzy, she assumed. And she hated that on top of being shocked at seeing him again, it hurt. She stepped into the shoe box–size office crowded with large men. Nick was still here, and now Zach as well. She’d heard his truck a few minutes ago as she finished with Roma. “Wow. I’m so popular today. Three brothers in three hours. Lucky me.” She eyed Nick sitting near the door, then slid her gaze to Zach, leaning back in a metal folding chair in the corner. “What’s up?”

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“Just brought you lunch.” Nick tossed her a bag. She caught the bag, peered inside. “And you?” she asked Zach, knocking his feet off her desk. “No fires to put out? Women to chase?” Zach grinned. “I heard there was lunch. Plus, chasing women is what usually starts the fires.” “Right.” She sat in the worn desk chair and took out her sandwich. Zach grabbed three cans of soda from the small fridge in the corner and tossed her one. “Don’t throw it like that,” Hannah said. “It’ll spew.” “Like a spew would hurt this ratty room.” “It does the job.” Though he was right. Old wood paneling, aged pictures of horses and blue-ribbon cows covered the walls. The flooring was some sort of outdoor carpet so used up it was impossible to discern the

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original color. Decorating wasn’t high on her priority list. The boarders paid the bills. Any money made from students was invested in special equipment for the kids. Nick stared at her with his most serious face. “We need to talk.” Here we go. She lowered her drink and faced him head-on. “No. We don’t. I went to a little girl’s party, end of story.” “Well, since he was just here, I’d have to argue about the end, but,”—he raised his drink to cut her off—“I won’t. What did he want?” With her sandwich almost to her lips, she paused. “To apologize.” Nick went on instant alert. “Apologize for what?” “For being a guy,” she said pointedly. Nick grunted. “I don’t like him.” She eyed the magazine tossed on her desk, an obvious gift from one of her concerned

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siblings. Stephen McKinney, Norfolk’s Most Eligible Bachelor. “Fine. Neither do I.” Nick shook his head. “Should have known someone smart enough to head up a billiondollar company before he was thirty wasn’t so dumb he’d let a girl like you slip away so easily.” Zach made a noise under his breath. “What a tool.” “I mean it, Han. You need to stay away from this guy.” Nick leaned forward and tapped a finger on McKinney’s photo gracing the cover. She already knew. In a weak moment, she’d googled. Had read about his company, seen pictures of his elaborate home, of him, hot and handsome at events with sequined women on his arm. Of course she wouldn’t start out slow, work her way up. No. She’d started “being normal” with a thirty-twoyear-old millionaire playboy.

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Zach reached for his drink, the legs of the chair knocking to the floor. “Rich, playboy, prick.” Nick agreed, tossing out his own opinions. She took the opportunity to slide the recent notice from the city under a student’s insurance papers. The one that said her inheriting all this might not have been official. That it might all be taken away. The land, the barn, her home. Everything. But the last thing she wanted was her brothers trying to fix it. “You should talk,” she said, turning the attention back on them. “You’re all bachelors. And I’d say you’re pretty eligible. Maybe you guys don’t like him because you’re so much alike.” Zach choked on a mouthful of sandwich. “Have you seen where I live?” Hannah rolled her eyes. “Yes, unfortunately. I’ve also seen the parade of girls.” Nick smiled. “She’s got you there, bro. All you need is a float and some clowns.”

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“Ha-ha.” “I’m serious. You might want to pick one someday.” She looked pointedly at both of them. “I’d like to be an aunt while I’m still young enough to be cool.” “No worries here,” Zach said. “I’ll always be cool.” Nick balled up his bag and looked at her with all his big-brother authority. “Trust me on this, Hannah. He’s not your type.” Hannah look down at her sandwich, folded the corners of the wrapper just so. “Well, seeing as I’ve never dated, I don’t guess I have a type, do I?” — Though the colors of the waiting room were meant to be soothing, the seating soft and inviting, a psychiatrist’s office was never a comfortable place. The cool air couldn’t combat the sweaty palms or the silence

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accentuated by the swish of alternating leg crossings and turning magazine pages. Even in the silence you could hear the loud thoughts. Why are you here? Were you forced? By the court? By your family? Are you crazier than I am? And the smells, similar to all doctors’ offices, brought flashes from the past. Nick carrying her, or sometimes Zach or Dallas, while she bit her lip against the pain, fought back the tears because the look in her brothers’ eyes when she cried was even worse. When her name was called, she rose for her monthly standing appointment. After years without, she’d recently decided to get back to therapy. But not with just anyone. Dr. Mia James met her at her office door looking both professional and feminine. A stunning woman, Mia stood several inches

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shorter than her own five-eight, with glossy black hair that brushed her shoulders. “Hannah.” The door closed and she was enveloped in a warm hug from Mia the friend before Mia the doctor. She’d known Mia a very long time, though until last summer there’d been no contact in almost twelve years. At one time Mia had been like a mother to her, like Nick had been a father. Then everything had fallen apart. “Sit down. How are you?” Hannah sat in one of the two chairs in front of a wide desk. Mia took the other, to make her patients feel more comfortable, she figured, though nothing could confuse who was broken and who wasn’t. “I’m good. Fine.” Mia studied her with dark eyes, the ones Hannah always felt missed nothing. “Except…” She might as well tell her about Max. It never did any good to keep things from her.

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“I’m sorry,” Mia said when she’d finished. She offered her a tissue, then reached for something on her desk, giving her a minute. “How are your students? Anything new?” “I have a new student who’s blind. It’s a different challenge, but it’s going great.” Mia listened about her job and the kids, a familiar dance, giving her time to ease into talking about herself. Which was the point, but still not easy. “And what about you? How are you sleeping?” “Good.” “Nightmares?” “Some.” And still every bit as terrifying. “Do you remember more?” Hannah traced the curved grooves in the wooden arm chair. “No.” Mia waited a beat before speaking again. “Have you given any thought to what we discussed last time?”

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“Actually…” And here was the reason she’d decided to talk to someone again. The last hurdle. “I’ve given it more than thought. I went out with someone. On a date.” Mia’s eyes widened before she caught herself. “I figured that would surprise you.” Hannah had to smile as it was difficult to catch Mia off-guard, even harder to get a reaction. “Yes. I am surprised. Hannah, that’s remarkable.” “Or crazy.” “Sometimes it takes a little bit of crazy to make ourselves step out of our comfort zone. Was it someone you’ve known awhile?” “No.” She took a deep breath and braced herself for Mia’s professional opinion. “I met him Friday, at the grocery store, and he asked me to dinner.” She held up the hand and quickly added, “I met him there.” Mia sat back.

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“I know, okay? He caught me off-guard. And…I didn’t want to hang around the guys. You know how they’d be after Max.” “And it was something you needed to do.” “Yes.” She met Mia’s eyes. “If I don’t start stepping out on my own, how can I ever expect them to think I can?” “Good question. Though what they think and how they act isn’t all on you.” Isn’t it? “So, how did it go?” “Good.” Too good, considering what had meant so much to her had meant nothing to him. “It was great until…” “Until?” “Until I went out with him again on Saturday. Not out exactly, but to his niece’s birthday party. Of course, Luke insisted he drive me, which was awkward because he didn’t want me to stay. I almost dropped the present and left.”

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“But you didn’t.” Mia smiled. “I’m proud of you, Hannah. You took a chance, what for you must have felt like a huge risk. And you stood up to Luke. I’m sure neither was easy.” “Well, don’t be too proud. It didn’t end well.” “Why do you say that?” Hannah flicked her eyes to the framed certificates lining the wall, tried to hide the hurt. “I mean, he wasn’t really interested.” “He must have been at least a little interested, to have asked you to dinner and then invited you to a family event.” “I thought so.” But I was wrong. Again. She sucked at reading people. A deficiency that had long ago been established. She looked down at her lap, shrugged. “I guess he changed his mind.” Mia waited. “I overheard him talking to his sister. Evidently I’m not his type. I mean, it’s not

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like I really thought I was. He’s gorgeous and successful and I’m—” “And you’re what? Beautiful, smart, and also successful.” “Ha. After feed and vet bills, I barely pay for food.” “There are many ways to measure success.” “Maybe.” She considered mentioning the letter and just how unsuccessful she might soon be. But she didn’t. “It doesn’t even matter, but…today he shows up at the barn. Yeah,” she added, seeing Mia’s reaction. “Just out of the blue, says he wants to apologize for hurting my feelings.” “How did you feel about seeing him again?” “I don’t know. Surprised. Embarrassed.” Sad. Attracted. And a weird sense of loss for something she’d never had. There’d been no cocky grin on his handsome face, no smile at

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all, but still, she’d sensed…something. Or maybe not. Who the hell knew. “Could you have misunderstood what you heard before?” “No.” “Well, the fact he wanted to apologize says a lot. He cared that much at least. And Hannah…” Mia leaned forward. “You do realize what a huge step this is? Something we were only talking about a few weeks ago and here you’ve already done it. And not once, but twice.” Hannah nodded, trying to see the positive. “And nothing bad happened.” She gave Mia a wry smile. “I guess that depends on your definition of bad.” “I mean nothing dangerous. All the things we both know you’re afraid of. If nothing else, you learned you can go somewhere, be with a man, and it doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll be hurt physically.”

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True. Except she’d still read the situation all wrong. The looks, the touches. The burst of happiness when he’d smiled at her. “Hannah…do you want a relationship with a man?” She’d thought about that, and took a minute to think about it some more. For a long time she’d wanted to hide completely, unable to stand anyone looking at her. Cringing at anyone touching her. But a part of her dreamed of loving someone, having someone love her back. There was a very good chance that wasn’t possible. “I don’t know.” She swallowed hard and pulled the cuffs of her shirt down farther. “I have a lot of scars.” “Everyone has scars, Hannah. Even if you can’t see them. Maybe this man isn’t the one, but don’t write people off before you give them a chance.”

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“But they’d have to see me if I ever…” The thought of a man seeing her naked body made her stomach turn. “It’s okay if you’re not ready for that. Baby steps. Trust with a man is developed just like trust with anyone. When you find the right person, you’ll know.” A cardinal landed on a feeder outside the window, pecked at the seeds before flying off again. “How will I know? If I always misjudge—” “How many people have you really misjudged? Because if it’s only one—” “It was a pretty big one.” “Hannah, you were fourteen years old.” “Old enough to know better.” She’d trusted him. Thought he was her age. Thought he was her friend. He’d been neither. “You have to stop blaming yourself.”

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Hannah almost laughed at that. There was so much blame circling over and through her family, it seemed to clog everything. “There are people who lie, people who are evil. They’re to blame, not you for believing them. And when it comes to this man you met? So maybe you misjudged his feelings, but trust me, you’re not the first man or woman to stumble through that minefield and you won’t be the last. Everyone gets their heart broken.” She wondered if Mia was thinking about Nick. What they’d had, what had ended. Mia reached out and covered her hand. “It would take a lot of trust, but when you feel safe enough to try, you will. And when someone means that much to you, you’ll want to.” A sinking feeling settled in her gut. Because, for the first time ever, a man other than her brothers had meant something to her. And she had wanted to try.

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But he wasn’t interested. And he didn’t even know all the reasons he shouldn’t be.

Chapter 9 Stephen raised and lowered the weights in each hand, counting out another set, barely noticing the million-dollar view from his home gym. Finishing, he set them down and moved to the incline bench for crunches. The stock exchange tape from Friday’s closing ran across the bottom of the muted flatscreen and each time his body rose, he made a mental note of the information. Just because it was Saturday didn’t mean he couldn’t work. He breathed out forty-eight when his cell rang. He grabbed it on the third buzz. “Hello.” “Hi, Stephen. It’s Abby.” “Hey. What’s going on? Everything okay?” She’d never called him before, couldn’t imagine why she ever would.

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“Oh, yeah, sorry. Everyone’s fine, but I’m kind of in a bind and I wondered if you could help me.” “Sure.” Relieved, he picked up a towel. “What’s up?” “Well, I’m supposed to take Gracie out to ride horses with Hannah today, but my car won’t start and Matt’s buried in renovation problems. I was wondering if you could give us a ride. I assume you know where it is.” Yes. He knew, though not for the reason she thought. “If you’re busy, I understand,” Abby said. “I can call Tony, or your dad. I just thought of you first.” “Hannah knows you’re coming?” “Of course. She invited us at the party, remember?” And then honored that invite in spite of what he’d done. “I’m happy to help you,

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Abby, but Hannah and I…we aren’t together.” “Oh. Well, shoot.” An awkward silence followed. He had no excuse. Even had an SUV gathering dust next to his Porsche. He sank onto the bench and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “I can still take you.” “Really? I hate to ask, but Gracie’s so excited. She’s been counting the days.” “No problem.” It shouldn’t be a problem. — Gracie skipped along beside him as they walked to the barn, so overflowing with sunshine and rainbows, you couldn’t help but get splattered with it. The three of them passed a stocky gray-haired man carrying a young boy in his arms. A boy with no hands,

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but rounded nubs of skin several inches below the bend in both elbows. “Mommy, did you see—” Abby pulled Gracie along when she would have stopped. “Don’t stare, baby.” “But Mommy, what—” “He lost his hands somehow,” Abby said softly. Hannah had told him what she did, but it hadn’t really registered. He hadn’t pictured children with missing limbs. The car door opened and closed behind them and Gracie turned her head. “He looked sad. I’d be sad too if I lost pieces.” Gracie’s innocent words twisted hard in his stomach. His youngest brother had lost a piece and J.T. was well past sad. A second later, they reached the barn and Hannah stepped out of the shadows. “Hi, Abby. Hi, Gracie.” She greeted them with that bright, open smile he loved, the one

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that went all the way to her eyes and made them sparkle. Until she saw him and the smile slipped, sparkle gone. “Gracie needed a ride, so I…” He gestured lamely at the obvious. It had been a week since he’d seen her. A week of trying to get her face out of his mind. A woman who obviously hadn’t expected to ever see him again. Well, he hadn’t expected it either. Or the kick in his chest when he did. But here he was, and he couldn’t say he was completely unhappy about it. “Thank you so much for this,” Abby said, picking up the conversation. “You’re welcome.” Hannah smiled at Abby, then looked down at Gracie. “Have you ever ridden a horse before?” “No, but I always wanted to so, so, so bad.” “Well, why don’t we walk around and you can meet everyone first.” Hannah took her hand and Gracie half walked, half skipped as the two of them moved deeper into the barn.

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“She’s sweet,” Abby said, just loud enough for him. “Yes.” “You could use some sweet in your life.” He wasn’t sure about that. Stephen followed Abby’s gaze, taking in the surroundings that he’d missed before. The barn was worn but clean. A few full hay bales were pushed against the wall like benches. A plastic caddy with various horse-grooming tools sat on one closest. “I’m glad you came to Gracie’s party. So was she.” “It was nice.” The girls came back, leading a small whitish horse. Hannah patiently showed Gracie where to stand and where not to. Showed her how to run the brush along Hazel’s body, following the pattern of hair. She named each piece of equipment, letting Gracie help when she

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could, then talked his niece through the mounting. “Abby, there’s a bench under a shade tree where you can watch,” Hannah said. “Can I get you a water?” “No, I’m fine.” Gracie sat straight and proud, bits of brown curls sticking out from under the black velvet riding helmet. “Uncle Stephen, watch me.” “Watching.” Gracie took the reins as shown and Hannah led them to the fenced-in riding area. “You like her,” Abby said as they walked to a bench with a view. “Of course I like her. She’s my niece.” Abby made a face. “You know what I mean.” Yeah. He knew. Minutes passed as they watched the figures in the ring. The horse shuffled through

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the red dirt, hooves sinking, kicking bits of sandy earth with each slow step. Several poles striped with colors rested on the ground, others stood upright and crossed to make an X. He wondered again if the land Dave was interested in was adjacent to hers, and if it sold how it would affect her. It wasn’t a fancy place, didn’t have to be. Not like the rehab facility he’d secured out west for his youngest brother. It burned he had nothing to offer other than money. And on his last trip out, J.T. had made it clear he didn’t even want that. He noticed other equipment. Bells attached to colorful poles and hooks with plastic rings the size a child would toss in a game. What she did here was important, meaningful. “I’m surprised you’re giving up so easily.” “Who says I’m giving up?” Exchanging Abby’s questions for a closer view of Hannah, he made his way down to

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the rail circling the riding area. He wasn’t giving up. He was trying to do the right thing. A stiff wind brought the smell of animal and earth. It also lifted the hair of the woman he couldn’t look away from, and blew it around her face. That initial punch at seeing her again lingered, growing stronger instead of fading. He wanted to hear that voice talking to him, wanted to see her laughing and smiling because of him. Dangerous thoughts for a man who had little need for a woman outside the bedroom. He’d made every effort not to think about her. Had even gone out with another woman last night. But he hadn’t wanted to listen to social gossip, hadn’t wanted to look at her heavily made-up face, or strips of beaded silk that begged him to touch and left nothing to the imagination. He’d thought of Hannah, imagined it was her sitting across from him. She didn’t try to draw attention to herself,

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subtle or otherwise. If anything, she hid. But, still, there was an allure about her, a magic. Like she’d put a spell on him. “She’s a natural,” Hannah told Abby, leading horse and rider back to the barn. “I really appreciate you letting her ride.” Abby reached for her purse. “How much do I owe you?” Hannah held up a hand. “Absolutely not.” “I’ve got it.” Stephen went for his wallet. “No.” Hannah met his gaze evenly, her tone final. “Well, thank you.” Abby brushed her fingers through Gracie’s curls. “Maybe you can come over to the house again.” “Do you want to?” Gracie piped up. “You could be friends with my mom.” “We’d love to have you,” Abby added, in her easy way. “Or maybe we could go for lunch.”

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Hannah responded with a soft smile of her own. “I’d like that. And Gracie’s welcome anytime. I mean it.” “Yes, yes, yes! I want to come again.” Gracie was still hopping when the sound of a car pulling up made them all turn. Matt. His brother joined them, kissed his wife’s cheek, then laid a hand on Gracie’s head. “Hey, ladybug.” “Daddy!” Gracie jumped and latched onto his side. “I rode a horse! She’s Hazel and I rode her!” “Is that right?” Matt pulled his daughter up and into his arms and gave Abby one of those married-people looks. The kind you shared with that one person who knows you better than anyone. “Everything okay?” “It’s great.” Abby slid her arm around her husband’s back. Stephen took in his brother. Clean-shaven, fresh clothes. “I thought you were—”

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“He finished early,” Abby said quickly. “I called him, and see”—she patted his chest before he could speak—“he came right out to get us. So, you don’t have to take us home. You can stay or…whatever. I think my car needs a new battery, honey. We should go check that out. Now.” Yeah. Abby the innocent was not so innocent. But how would she—Lizzy. Damn nosy sister. Matt walked his wife to the car and lifted Gracie onto his shoulders, her little-girl giggle wafting on the air. Leaving him alone with a woman he wanted, but shouldn’t want, who clearly didn’t want him. As Matt’s truck drove away, a powder-blue van pulled in. “Oh, no.” Hannah tracked the van as it parked. Her brows were drawn together, her hair slightly mussed around her face like she’d just rolled out of bed. Or in a bed, and damn

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it, he wanted to touch her. Wanted that right. “What’s wrong?” “I left a message. They must not have gotten it.” She shook her head. “Lexie’s not here today and Toby’s too big for me to manage by myself.” A woman stepped out of the van and waved a shaky hand before going around to the passenger door. “He’s going to be so disappointed.” Stephen couldn’t imagine anyone looking more disappointed than Hannah did right now. Except maybe when she’d stood in his brother’s kitchen doorway. She’d had the same fallen look then, maybe worse. “I’ll help you,” Stephen said, and waited for her eyes to meet his. “If you’ll let me.”

Chapter 10 She hadn’t really wanted his help, but the alternative would have been to ask him to leave and disappoint an eight-year-old boy who lived a life of disappointment. So she’d taken what Stephen offered and he’d done everything she’d asked. His hands were large but gentle, lifting Toby’s body into the saddle and taking him down when they were finished. He’d walked along on the right side as directed, while she led horse and rider through a series of maneuvers and games. Now it was just the two of them in the quiet of the barn. Stephen had shed his polo, and the white T-shirt he wore beneath stretched deliciously across his chest. Even hotter than she’d imagined when she’d tried not to imagine him. Just watching him run

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his fingers through his damp hair was hot. He’d worked up a light sweat, making the fabric mold to the definition of his body. The muscles in his back flexed and his biceps strained against the cotton sleeves when he hung the special saddle where she pointed high on the wooden post. God had been good to Stephen McKinney, blessing him with a sharp mind and charm, the body of an athlete, and a face so carefully carved, a girl might miss the rest. That he was a player, too hot, too skilled, and way too dangerous for her. “Hannah?” He looked at her amused, his lips pulling up on one side, bringing out a faint dimple and a twinkle in his eye. “Is that it?” “Yes.” Obviously she’d been caught staring and she threw the word out behind her and bolted from the tack room. He followed. “So, you’re finished?”

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“What? For the day? No. I mean…” God, he made her tongue-tied and twisted. “I don’t have any more students, but I have more stuff to do.” “Okay. I’ll help.” Her eyebrows shot up. “You know how to muck a stall?” “I’m pretty sure I could learn.” He gave her a slow, sexy smile. “Especially if I had a nice teacher.” Yes, she was sure he could. Was probably a master at everything he did. But she eyed him, uncertain what to make of his sudden interest. He should have left an hour ago. He’d leave eventually anyway, and would most likely never come back. While she debated, he took the decision out of her hands, grabbed a rake, and got busy. Probably how he approached everything in life, in business. With women. Self-assured, confident, in charge.

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She looped a rope around Hazel’s neck and led her through the back of the barn to a turnout paddock. She did the same with two others so they could clean the stalls, then returned for the last one. “Mr. Ed, huh. Do you talk?” She stopped at the sound of Stephen’s deep voice and watched him scratch the old chestnut’s forehead. “Oh, really? She said that about me?” He flashed her a wicked grin. So heart-stoppingly gorgeous it was almost painful. But even then she couldn’t stop the sudden smile. And that’s why he was dangerous. They worked in silence, only the scrape of shovel against concrete and the rustling of fresh hay. She didn’t know how she was supposed to feel when his eyes met hers, when their bodies came within a breath of touching. A man she’d been attracted to, was still attracted to. A man she’d thought was

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interested in her and then found out he wasn’t. But one thing she did know was fear, and that was strangely absent when she was with Stephen. “So does this count as a kid’s physical therapy?” “For some it does. A person might benefit from riding in general, versus going to a certified physical therapist using horseback riding specifically for therapy. That would be hippotherapy. It’s usually covered by insurance and though it might not replace everything done in PT, it covers most of it.” He scooped a section of soiled hay. “Which are you?” “On paper I’m a physical therapist, out here I guess I’m both. I have a blind student. I’m not really doing physical therapy, but feeling the horses, the tack, smelling them…it’s good for her. Just being outside, going places she couldn’t go on her own.”

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When she looked up, Stephen was staring. “Sorry. I tend to go on and I probably already told you that.” He leaned his shovel against the wall. “You didn’t and I wanted to hear it.” He looked at her another beat. “It’s good. What you do here. It’s special.” Wow. His praise meant more to her than it should. “Thanks.” Uncomfortable with his intense stare, she fumbled with the stall latch like it needed attention until she heard Stephen pick up his tool and start again. “I have a brother.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You have a lot of brothers.” Something they had in common. “Yeah.” He smiled. “But my youngest brother, J.T….he lost his leg, part of his leg, just over a year ago. Car accident.” She stopped and studied him, staring at the hay, looking like a giant weight was

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pressing on his shoulders. Maybe that’s why he was here, seeking help for his brother. “I’m sorry.” “Me too.” He went back to work and she took it as a signal he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. A second later, a clap of thunder rumbled and rolled. When she stepped from the stall, the open barn doors revealed a darkened sky, pressing down in an angry gray on the fields and beyond. “I better get the horses.” Another boom of thunder sounded as she grabbed a lead rope. “Toss me one.” Hannah directed him to retrieve Winnie while she went after Roma. She whistled and clucked, approaching him slowly. “Go on ahead,” she called to Stephen. “Third stall on the right. Her name’s on the door.”

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Stephen disappeared and she continued to stalk the horse around the edges of the paddock. “It’s okay, boy. Don’t you want to go inside?” Each time she got close, the weather conspired against her and he shied away. A cool downdraft lifted his jet-black mane and brought pieces of her own hair across her face. A streak of lightning split the heavens just before the earth shook and the first fat raindrops fell. “Come on, now. Be a good boy.” But Roma was rarely a good boy and bringing him in was never easy. She’d only taken him on as a boarder because she needed the money. She had him stopped against the fence, but there was no way she could box him in enough that he couldn’t jerk away. She stroked his neck, speaking soft nonsense as she ran the rope across the animal’s quivering shoulders. Roma’s eyes flashed and she caught the movement behind her. Stephen. He stepped

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in front of the horse, his tall, wide body giving her the edge she needed. With a firm grip, she headed for the barn. The rain stung her cheeks and another flash slashed the sky in two. Roma rose in a half rear, ripping the nylon through her wet hand. She spun to make a grab for him and saw Stephen had looped his rope also and still had a solid hold. He jogged, bringing the horse along at a trot, leaving her to follow. She slid the barn doors closed against the blowing sheets of rain while Stephen led Roma to his stall. With the latch secured he faced her, a smile playing across his lips. “Well, that was fun.” Yes. And the image of Stephen standing in her barn in a wet T-shirt would be burned into her brain for all time. She dipped into the tack room for some towels. When she turned, Stephen was there, filling the doorway and blocking her exit with his broad shoulders. How would he feel

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under her hands? Hard and hot over smooth? He leaned against the wood, making no move to let her by. And there was no way she could slide past without touching him. There were a million things in this room she could distract herself with. She could fold or refold blankets, wipe down tack. But she couldn’t take her eyes off the man in front of her. She followed the drops of water that slid along the planes of his face. Down his neck until they met the wet fabric plastered to his chiseled upper body like a second skin. Yep, definitely more athlete than boardroom. He stepped forward, crowding her back until her spine hit the wall behind her. The heat from his body steamed between them and chill bumps broke out along her arms. The towels hung forgotten at her side. She should move away. But, with the way he was

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studying each and every inch of her face, like he was looking even deeper—she couldn’t. “You know…” he said softly, taking a towel from her hand. “I think they orchestrated this. Matt and Abby.” He moved closer, just a fraction, and her heart rate tripled. “Well, maybe not Matt. More likely Abby and Lizzy.” He was so close she could see the black of his pupils against the rich brown. Saw the beginnings of a dark shadow along his carved jawline. And she could smell him. An indescribable delicious male scent. “Why?” “Because they like you.” He ran the cotton up her arms and over her shoulders, stopping at her neck. He braced one hand on the wall behind her, leaned in, and lowered his head until his breath tickled her ear. “I like you too.”

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The hard rain pounded the roof of the barn like her heart pounded inside her. He closed the remaining space until his solid chest came within a breath of her chilled nipples. She shivered again, flattened her palms against him, feeling his heat. His body flexed under her hands, but after a long deep breath and a heavy sigh, he straightened. “I want to see you again. Tomorrow.” Her stomach flipped with a new kind of fear and she was reminded of all the ways she could be hurt. “I didn’t think I was the kind of girl—” “I’m sorry.” His eyes held hers, the regret clear in his serious brown eyes. “I was wrong. I am interested. More than interested, though I’m so far from the type of man you should be with I shouldn’t even be standing here. Yet here I am, asking for another chance.” God, what could she say to that when she didn’t know what type he was or what type

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she needed? Suddenly it didn’t matter what he’d said. Didn’t matter that he’d crushed her hope before she’d even known what she was hoping for. Stephen looked at her and none of that mattered. All she knew was she wanted to touch him. Wanted to take his face in her hands and feel the rough shadow over his angled jaw. Wanted to stare into eyes so hot they melted her. Terrified her. “Hannah…” His hand came down to lightly caress her throat. “Don’t. Please.” She dropped her gaze from a man too used to getting what he wanted, too used to being wanted. “Don’t play with me.” “I’m not.” But she went on, desperate to make him understand. “Because I can’t play, I don’t know how.” And she didn’t want to. She wanted someone to share her life with, someone to want her. When she found him it

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wouldn’t be a game. “Why are you doing this?” “I told you, I want to see you again.” He gazed down at her, still so serious, but with a soft expression and she sighed. “I can’t. I’m busy tomorrow.” His brow arched, obviously displeased. “Really?” “Yes. I’m watching one of my students. We’re going to the Butterfly House at the boardwalk.” “What time? I’ll drive you.” “Eleven, but…no. That’s not what I—” “You still don’t trust me.” It was a statement, and in many ways it was true. In others, and for reasons she didn’t understand, it wasn’t. Stephen tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Then I guess I’m going to have to work harder.”

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The low rumble of his voice combined with the brush of his hand sent sparks flaring through her. He moved back, allowed her breathing room but speared her with a long, deliberate look. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave her a wink and then he was gone.

Chapter 11 The boardwalk was a stretch of entertainment and shops, luring locals as much as tourists. Not a cloud in the sky today and the sidewalks on each side of the man-made pond were filled with both. Stephen crossed one of three small bridges that joined the two sides to reach the Butterfly House. He entered the impressive glass atrium and was immediately hit with its tropical warmth. Trees indigenous only below the equator rose thirty feet toward the light in the center. Bushes of every shape and size filled the space, a spectrum of green against a rainbow of flowers. And butterflies. Too many to count, flittering and fluttering everywhere he looked. But he was only looking for one thing.

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Peering between leaves bigger than his head, he found it, and took a moment just to watch her. He would have said Hannah couldn’t look more beautiful than she had yesterday with her cheeks flushed, her hair and cherry pink lips dripping wet. He’d have been wrong. Even with temperatures in the eighties, she was completely covered in jeans and a long-sleeved white top. Standing in the sunlight streaming from the glass dome, she looked almost ethereal. Like some Lord of the Rings goddess, with her honey-gold hair hanging in waves to her waist and no fewer than ten butterflies on her head and shoulders. Some slowly pulsing their wings, others completely still, but all drawn to her. As he was. A black-haired little girl of maybe six stood beside her. Tiny braids covered her head close to the scalp, each one sporting a colorful bead at the end. She stood hunched over,

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leaning her hands on metal walking sticks. Hard braces covered each arm elbow to wrist and a similar version ran from her hips to where they attached to special shoes. As he made his approach, the child tried several times to hold her hand steady so the butterflies would land as they did on Hannah’s, but the jerky movements scared them away. When he rounded the corner, Hannah’s head came up, surprise clear in her pretty brown eyes. “Hey.” “Hey.” She laid a hand on the girl’s shoulder, rolled a bead through her fingers. “You came.” “I did.” They shared a smile over the similar lines from their first date. “This is Lola.” “Hi.” The little girl spared him a quick glance before going back to the way more

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interesting black-and-blue butterfly on Hannah’s shirt. “Her mom’s doing some errands while we hang out.” “We’re hanging out in here right now,” Lola said. He nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” Hannah attempted to transfer a butterfly from her own finger to Lola’s, but the girl wobbled and lowered her hand to catch herself. Stephen looked around for an empty bench. No luck. They moved along slowly and wobbling, sending insects scattering as they went. “I have an idea. Is it okay to take your hands out of these?” “If you want me to fall on my face,” Lola said with a good-natured smile.

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“No, I definitely don’t want you to fall on your face. I was thinking I could hold you, if it wouldn’t hurt you.” “No, it wouldn’t hurt me. But I’m getting too big to carry.” “Hmm.” Stephen tried not to smile. “Well, why don’t we give it a try? I’m stronger than I look.” Hannah helped Lola disengage her hands and Stephen lifted the child into his arms. “See, light as a feather. I’ll be your personal chariot for the day. How does that sound?” Lola was all smiles, but the look on Hannah’s face, gazing up at him with adoration…for that he would’ve gladly carried a sack of bricks. Now they were moving, meandering about the maze of vegetation, following the walkway, and counting the butterfly shapes hidden among the flowers. He had to squat down with the child every few steps, as she

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was determined to find each one, and the three of them made a game of it. When he transferred a butterfly from his finger onto her nose, Lola giggled and squirmed. “Put it on Hannah’s nose!” He did, and took the opportunity to brush his fingers along her neck when he swept her hair out of the way. So beautiful. And he imagined her lips wet and pink again, only this time from his mouth instead of rain. “Is he your boyfriend?” Lola asked. “What?” Hannah’s eyes flashed wide. “No.” Well, that was quick. And emphatic. With Lola directing, they walked next door to the aquarium. As much as the Butterfly House had been warm and bright, the aquarium was cool and dark. Light shimmered in waves over the walls, creating the sense they were under the water with the sea creatures instead of only

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watching through the glass. Lola sat on a low bench, entranced by the sharks swimming in the tank before her. A few feet away, Hannah shivered and wrapped her arms around her body. “Cold?” She dropped her hands to her sides. “No.” “Liar.” Her mouth fell open at the insult, but Stephen grinned and she quickly shut it and shot him a look like Lizzy often did. He gave a swift rub up and down her arms, loving the feel of her under his hands but wishing he was touching bare skin. Soft but toned, strong enough to handle horses and saddles, yet his fingers easily circled her upper arms with extra to spare. God, he’d wanted to take her yesterday right there against the wall of the barn. Crush his mouth to hers, rip off the wet shirt that practically begged him to suck her

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nipples into his mouth. Even now, he imagined pulling her back and into the shadows. He’d slide his palms up slowly until they cupped her breasts, run his tongue along her throat to that spot where it met her shoulder, and— “Stephen,” Lola sang out his name loudly from a few feet away. She’d fully embraced the chariot notion. He made a few more passes over Hannah’s arms just because, then let go. “Better?” She nodded, looking a little dazed. If she wasn’t warmed up, he was hot enough for both of them. — They met Lola’s mother at noon, an extremely appreciative woman if a bit strung out. He felt for her. A single mom, taking care of a child and all her special needs while still dealing with the everyday duties of a

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mother plus working. And she hadn’t been here to shop, but to apply for a better job. Maybe he could help them out. A car payment, house payment. Hell, he could buy them a house. He’d mention it to Matt, see what his brother was working on. “So,” he said, as they watched the two of them depart. “So.” Hannah looked around before bringing her eyes back to his. “I planned on doing some shopping.” “Great. I love shopping.” She gave him a get-real look. “Don’t lie. I have four brothers.” “Okay. I don’t mind shopping. In fact, I need something for my sister. I guess you being a girl and all, you’d have some insight.” “Maybe. Do you have any ideas?” “Nope. I’ll leave that to you.” And leave the day open to spend with Hannah.

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It was fun trying to win her affections, having to work for it. He was surprised he even remembered how. They crossed the closest arching bridge to the side more heavily strewn with shops and restaurants and started their hunt. Beneath them, ducks and koi paddled for food, conveniently sold by the handful from nearby dispensers. They moved in and out of shops easily, neither feeling the need to fill every silence. Soap and candles, stationery and handbags. Just outside a bookstore, two kids raced past decked out in cowboy hats, leather fringed shirts, and boots. He slipped an arm around Hannah’s waist to guide her out of their erratic path. “Did you ever want to be a cowboy?” “Of course. Doesn’t everyone? And then I think it was a pirate.” He squinted one eye, making her laugh. “You’d have made a good pirate.”

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He did have a habit of taking what he wanted. “What about you?” She smiled. “A mermaid.” “Nice.” Very nice, actually. He could picture her swimming through the water, her mass of hair floating behind her naked body. “You could have saved me when my captors made me walk the plank.” “Ha. Somehow I think you’d be the one doing the capturing.” “I’d certainly be trying.” Like he was now. “So you decided to be a legal pirate?” she teased. “Collect booty as a businessman?” He gave her a sideways glance and grinned as they stepped into a beach-themed store. “I thought about architecture for a while,” he said as they cruised the aisles. “I always liked buildings. But I was good with numbers, so I majored in finance.” In the back of his mind he’d always thought he might end up building with his dad one day.

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“I messed around, played the stock market, got lucky. I was young. I took risks, got lucky again. I graduated and got picked up by Goldman Sachs and assigned to real estate ventures. Turned out I had a knack for picking lucrative property investments. A lot of it’s research. Knowing your opponent.” “Your opponent?” She picked up a shellcovered picture frame, put it back. “That’s how I looked at it, like a game. Know the person or people on the other side. What they want, what they’re willing to do to win. What you’re willing to do.” In the last few years he’d been willing to do quite a bit. She nodded and moved to another shelf. She didn’t mention his money or status. Didn’t drop any hints or fish for invitations. Maybe she didn’t know. He kind of hoped she didn’t. “What about you? Did you always want to do what you do?” “No.”

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A shadow passed through her eyes before she turned away. Quick, but he caught it. “I always liked kids, thought about being a pediatrician maybe, but then I sort of…” “Sort of what?” “I sort of fell into physical therapy. It was a natural fit, then the horses. What about this?” She held up a glass wind chime. “It’s perfect.” Without saying more, they moved to the checkout. Hannah loved what she did, he’d seen that firsthand. So why didn’t she want to talk about it? He had it wrapped and they left the store. He’d noticed Hannah’s pace had slowed considerably over the last hour. And more, something about her gait…not quite limping, but he shortened his stride. “That pretzel stand is calling my name. Mind if we break for a quick snack?” “Sure.”

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He grabbed two pretzels and they sat on benches spaced intermittently next to the water. Urns overflowing with tiny pink and purple flowers graced each end. He took a bite, watched her do the same as the ducks begged on the water behind them. “So, your brothers are pretty protective, huh?” “They have their reasons, I guess.” She reached up and slipped a hand into her hair. She had this habit of wrapping the strands around her finger, which he found totally endearing and completely hot. “Nothing wrong with being protective. My brothers and I weren’t so easy on guys sniffing around our sister.” Well, shit. That didn’t come out right. Sounded like he was sniffing around Hannah. He barely resisted the urge to rake his fingers through his hair. He didn’t get nervous around women. Didn’t feel uncomfortable. Didn’t care enough to. But then

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she smiled at him like she understood, making everything better. “Don’t worry about it. We’re just shopping, right?” He wasn’t sure he liked how that sounded, like none of this mattered. She turned her back and pinched off a piece, threw it into the water. It wasn’t long before the ducks waddled up the bank to ask for their snack up close and personal. “Who was that woman you came to the barn with last week?” He didn’t want to talk about Camila. “No one.” “Everyone is someone.” He sighed. “You’re right. Someone I work with.” “Ouch!” Hannah jerked back. “What? Did he bite you?” She shook out her hand, gave a hesitant laugh. “Not really. Sorry. Just scared me.”

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“Let me see.” He raised her hand for closer inspection. “He didn’t mean to.” It looked okay, but he brought her hand to his lips anyway and pressed a kiss to the center of her palm. Her lips parted and she sucked in a breath. He was going to kiss that mouth and soon. But not yet. He gave her a gentle bite that made her yelp and laugh. So beautiful and so much more. He was dazzled by it and…for a second he wondered if maybe there could be something for him between not giving a shit and caring too much. Something between meaningless sex and meaning everything. He kept her hand, liking the way it felt in his, and they made their way over the short bridge to the other side. Large, blinking globes bordered a giant sign on their right announcing today’s feature film, the newest Bond movie. “I wanted to see that.”

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They spoke at the same time and there was an instant unity. Their eyes met and he was sure they both felt it. A split second of that unmistakable couple feeling he’d once known well. Something expanded inside his chest before he squashed it down. He glanced at his watch as much to check the time as to push that long ago feeling aside. “Perfect timing. What do you think?” “Sure. Let’s do it.”

Chapter 12 An hour and a half later they exited the theater to an afternoon sun slipping low behind the buildings, leaving the sidewalk in cool shadow. Stephen stepped away to drop their empty popcorn containers in a waste can and she took the opportunity to check her phone. Three missed calls, all from Nick. Her finger hovered over the button to call him back, but she texted him instead. She didn’t want to waste her time with Stephen explaining where she was. When he returned to her side, he took her hand and linked their fingers as he had in the movie. Warm and solid, and her heart tripped. They didn’t talk about what to do next, just a silent mutual agreement to keep walking.

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There was a lot more to him than rich businessman. He’d been like a little kid in the aquarium. And smart. Really smart. Spouting off facts before even reading the placards in front of each glass case. And he made her laugh with his silly made-up nonsense; even better, he’d made Lola laugh. It seemed nothing rattled him, and as much as just being near him made her nervous, it also felt good. He made her smile. It would have been easier if he’d turned out to be a jerk. Easier to say no, easier to protect herself. The more she liked him, the more she struggled against that niggling fear reminding her she had little ability to tell the good guys from the bad. They watched street performers and stood in line to pet a white tiger cub from a local zoo. She didn’t even want to know how much money he’d passed the guy to get her an extra five minutes. After that, they decided on dinner, a hibachi-style place. The food was

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good, the table lively. She learned Stephen had a talent for catching food in his mouth. And that she had none. They came out of the restaurant to a very different boardwalk. Twinkling lights hung like lace in ornamental trees against the dark sky. As they’d learned from their waiter, tonight was couples night, the last night of Spring Fling Week. The sound of a band drew them in a certain direction, and Stephen took her hand again. It was becoming a natural thing, his touching her, her liking it. She felt safe and secure with Stephen’s big body shielding her from the crowd. For someone who never felt completely safe, it was amazing. Liberating. Even with her brothers it wasn’t the same, maybe because their tension radiated like a warning blast, constantly on the lookout for danger. Had they always been that way or only after? She couldn’t remember.

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People flowed toward the stage. Couples closer to the front danced, some with practiced moves, others content to sway in each other’s arms. She and Stephen stood together for a while overlooking the water, listening and people-watching. “How about some ice cream?” Stephen suggested. “Sure.” She waited for him by the rail, tapping her fingers to the beat, wondering what it would be like in Stephen’s arms. To be held against his hard body. How would she fit against him? Would she still feel safe or would she feel trapped? “Here you go.” Stephen returned, looking like a proud little boy with his offering. The one bowl he held was huge, piled with mounds of ice cream and topped with chocolate sauce and whipped cream. She certainly didn’t need her own, and there were two spoons, but—

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“I thought we could share,” he said with a smile. Her stomach tumbled again. At the smile. The man. And the intimate act of sharing. Stephen held the bowl for both of them and they took turns until her tiny plastic spoon broke in the hard ice cream. “Well, crap. I’ll get another one.” Stephen caught her hand and tugged her back. “I’ll share.” Something about the look in his eyes had her blood going hot, her skin tingling. He held the ice cream out for her to help herself with his spoon, to put her lips where his had just been. “Go ahead.” She took her bite and passed it back. The way his eyes held hers when he slipped the spoon between his lips was devastating. He always said a lot without saying much, and right now he seemed to be saying this was more than sharing ice cream.

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Back and forth they repeated the process until it was nearly gone. Instead of taking his next bite, he held it out to her and waited for her to open up like a baby. When she did, he brought it within an inch, then at the last second bypassed her lips and slid the spoon into his own mouth. Her jaw dropped and she gaped at him. “I can’t believe you just did that.” Forgetting herself, she punched his arm. He faked pain, laughing. “Believe it, baby. So I guess you think you should get the last bite, huh?” “I think that’s only fair. Since you got the first one.” “You got the first one.” He shook his head like he was disappointed. “You have a bad memory, Goldilocks.” He scraped around the edges of the bowl, careful not to miss any last bit of chocolate. When he was satisfied, he held the spoon in front of her lips. “Open.”

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She shook her head. “Trust me.” Finally, and with a warning glare, she took a chance. Agonizingly slowly, he filled her mouth with cold vanilla and warm fudge. “Damn.” His eyes went heavy, his voice a deep whisper. He cupped her cheek in his palm and a thousand bolts shot through her. Just a touch, but more intimate than anything she’d ever felt. He touched the corner of her mouth with his thumb, swiped it across her lower lip. She was well and truly caught, staring into the same brown eyes she’d looked into all day, but not like this. Not with this feeling that something was about to happen. Something that could change everything. Her heart pounded, raced toward whatever that something was. She licked her lips self-consciously under Stephen’s scrutiny. Like he was hungry. Starved.

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Stephen leaned in. Closer and closer as if in slow motion, until his lips hovered a breath from hers. His fingers slid through the hair at the side of her face. “Hannah.” Just her name, and it was terrifying and magical, and before she had time to process the enormity of it, he kissed her. His lips were soft and firm and every cell in her body tuned in to that single spot where their lips met. She didn’t know what to do next, but it didn’t matter. He took full control, sliding his tongue along the seam and pressing until she let him in. Their tongues touched, tentatively at first, and she tasted him, sweet and hot. Filled with a wonderful floaty feeling, her hands came up to his chest. Her fingers clutched at his shirt and his tightened in her hair as he angled her face, kissed her deeper, until she was dizzy with it.

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She had no idea how much time passed before his lips left hers, only that they did and she wanted them back. Applause erupted and for a second she assumed it was universal excitement over her first kiss and she wanted to join in. But as she slowly came back to herself, she realized the band was saying good night, the audience showing their appreciation. Her eyes finally fluttered open and Stephen was there, a big smile on his gorgeous face like he’d been waiting. He hooked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So damn sweet.” She stared, heart still racing. “It’s the chocolate.” “No. It’s you.” He dipped his head again. “It’s definitely you.”

Chapter 13 Dear God, watching her eat that ice cream had nearly killed him. Not kissing her hadn’t been an option. Stephen took her hand as they moved through the parking lot, ending their night. He couldn’t imagine anything sweeter than Hannah’s mouth, but her small fingers curled into his shirt, the tiny sound of surprise when his mouth covered hers…pretty damn close. She’d kissed him like she’d never been kissed before, uncertain and innocent, but so hot he could have gone on all night. Still could, he thought, as they reached her car. Her 4Runner was parked close to the entrance and under a light. Good for her. He wanted her thinking, safe and smart. Though he didn’t like the apprehension he felt

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growing in her the farther they got from the crowd. Hannah pulled the keys from a small bag, glanced around the half-empty lot, then up at him. “Thanks for coming. And for the movie, and dinner, and…” “And what?” Her gaze settled on his mouth and she bit her lip. “And the ice cream.” “Ice cream?” He smiled and circled her waist with his hands. “And I thought you were going to thank me for the kiss.” Embarrassment stained her cheeks as he’d known it would. He slipped his fingers into her hair and kissed her again, slowly at first, giving her time to get used to him. He could teach her so much about the ways of kissing, of pleasure. He moved one hand down to her lower back and pulled her closer. Her lips parted and he deepened the kiss, loving the feel of

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her slender arms wound around his neck. With the weight of her head in his hand, her body pressed against his, every other kiss with every other woman evaporated. He raised his head and wrapped her in his arms because it was cool out and because he didn’t want to let her go just yet. She gazed up at him, her chin resting against his chest. Her long hair blew around them both and he let the strands brush across his face before smoothing it back from her eyes. God help him, she was breathtaking, and looking down into her upturned face pulled at something deep inside him. “This is the third time I’ve said goodbye to you at a car. When am I going to graduate to the front door? Hmm?” She tensed against him. “Are you always this nervous or is it just me?” He’d asked it lightly, partly a joke, but…he’d sensed something too. A heightened sense of awareness. Just her personality?

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Then he thought of all the reasons she should be afraid of him. That dark streak he’d discovered years ago. During the trial, and even worse after. She lowered her arms. “I don’t know.” “Is it your watchdog brothers? What do they think? I’m going to kidnap you, tie you up in my basement?” He heard and felt the breath she sucked in before she spun away from him. “Shit. Hannah, I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to say.” Damn it. After all the times she’d been tentative, hesitant. He laid a hand on her shoulder and she hunched away from him as much as the space would allow. She fumbled with her key fob, dropped it, bent to grab it, and dropped it again before straightening. “I need to go.” “Hey.” He closed his fingers around her wrist and felt her entire body go stiff. Shit.

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He needed to touch her, but he dropped his hand. Her car gave a beep and the locks opened. “Hannah, please. Don’t go yet. I’m sorry.” She still faced her car, but didn’t open the door. “Look at me.” He could have counted his heartbeats waiting for her to turn, afraid he’d lost all the ground of trust he’d gained in the last eight hours. Finally, she turned and gave him a halfsmile. “It’s okay. I just need to go.” “I’m sorry,” he repeated. He silently thanked God when her face softened. Not wanting to waste an answered prayer, he kissed her cheek. Then with nothing more, he opened her door. “Lock up,” he told her through the glass. He heard the click, the start of the engine, then he watched until her taillights disappeared into the night.

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Damn, he was in trouble. Because if there was something in between everything and nothing, he was going to have it with Hannah. — Three days later, Hannah washed and dried her hands in her bathroom, catching herself in the mirror on the way out. She looked different. Happy. Not that she was normally unhappy, but there was a new spark there that even she could see. And that spark was Stephen. She still felt the heat of his firm lips moving against hers, his muscled shoulders under her hands. She replayed the kiss for the millionth time. His mouth had been soft, his lips persuasive. He wouldn’t know it was her first, would likely be appalled if he did. If he knew what it meant to her that she’d trusted him enough to get that close. She touched her lips

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and smiled into the mirror. Yeah, she liked him. A lot. She walked into the main room, noting the way Zach was slumped comfortably on her couch, in contrast to Luke’s coiled energy in a nearby chair. Both content to let Nick cook. “Hey, Nicky.” Zach waggled an empty beer can over his head. “Bring me another one while you’re up, would you?” Nick sent a deadly look over his shoulder from where he stood at the stove. “I’m not up, ass wipe. I’m cooking your dinner.” Hannah took the can as she passed. “I thought firemen were supposed to know how to cook.” Zach settled deeper and propped his feet on the coffee table. “Who says I don’t? But why would I when Nick’s so good at it?” Nick cursed under his breath. “You better hope you find a woman who’s into nurturing.”

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“Nurturing?” Luke sipped his beer. “He needs to be nursed. Look at him. He wouldn’t even dress himself if it wasn’t required by law.” “Who says I do dress myself, Skywalker? Had some very beautiful help this morning.” “Eww.” Hannah scrunched her nose, returning with the beer. “TMI, Zach.” “Who was it this time?” Luke asked. “Candy? Brandy? Mandy? You’re like a fucking Dr. Seuss.” Zach grinned, twisting off the bottle top. “You forgot Bambi.” “That doesn’t rhyme, idiot.” Zach countered with a pillow flung hard at Luke’s face, almost knocking over a lamp. “Boys. I’m going to be pissed if you break something.” Her warning didn’t stop Luke from chucking it right back. Not that she wasn’t used to it. Her brothers were here more often than not.

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They said it was cleaner. True, but it was more because they liked to check on things. Doors, windows, locks. And before they left tonight, one, or all of them, would doublecheck that her handgun was loaded and within easy reach. Learning to shoot, getting a license to carry so she could take it in her car, had been big-brother nonnegotiable. They’d remind her to make sure her phone was charged and on. Then they’d stand outside, refusing to leave the porch until they heard the click of deadbolts. A revolving show of male protectiveness all done in love to make her feel safer. Though really, it just reminded her of all the reasons she needed to be scared. Of what could happen when she wasn’t as careful as she should be. What had happened. — When the last dish was dried and put away, Luke and Zach excused themselves. Hannah

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sat on the front porch swing with Nick and watched the two sets of taillights get swallowed up by the trees. He was always the last to leave, but soon he’d go too. She’d moved out of his house to be on her own, not necessarily to be alone. Being without Max was harder than she’d thought. Coming into the house after dark to utter silence was lonelier than she’d imagined. But this was her life. She refused to be bothered by it. Maybe she’d get another dog. A rescue dog. But not yet. Crickets chirped and the wind made a barely-there sound. It’d be a loud rush when the trees were full of leaves. The supporting chains groaned in protest, then gave in to the steady back-and-forth rhythm as Nick rocked them with his foot. This was the same swing that had been on their parents’ porch. The same one her mother had rocked her on at night. A story she’d begged her brother to retell over the years.

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Nick laid his arm on the back of the swing. “So, how was your weekend? You were hard to catch up with.” “It was good.” “What’s her name?” “Whose?” “The friend you were shopping with.” The swing squeaked back and forth in the quiet while he waited. “Must be a good friend to spend all day. Same friend you went to dinner with last week?” More waiting, until the breath she’d been holding huffed out. “Okay. Fine. You got me. Damn, they must really love you in interrogation.” Nick didn’t laugh. “Who were you with? Though I’ve got a pretty good idea since you didn’t tell me.” “He apologized.” “I know. I was there.”

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“Then he brought his niece out to ride. I’d offered and—” “He used his niece?” Nick made a disgusted sound. “Nice.” “He didn’t use her. His sister-in-law called him and asked for a ride.” “And you’re defending him. What time did you get home?” “Do I have a curfew?” “Hannah—” “Sorry. I’m sorry.” Nick worried when she didn’t call, and in his line of work he didn’t need his thoughts and attention divided. “We walked around, went to dinner after a movie, then I came home. Alone. I met him there, or he met me. I didn’t even think he’d show.” “Of course he’d show. He’d have to be a complete idiot to—” He sighed long and hard. “Never mind. Just…God, you’re twenty-six, but this is hard. I don’t trust him. I don’t know him.”

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“Well, I could always date someone you do know. Another agent? Someone at Zach’s firehouse?” “Over my dead body.” She smiled at his emphatic answer. “Don’t worry. Anyone you guys know would rather shoot themselves in the ass than make a move on me.” She pulled her feet up under her. “I know it’s hard. It’s hard for me too, but…I need to try, you know?” Nick didn’t answer, but she knew he got it, even if he didn’t like it. “You know, I don’t remember a time when you were just a big brother. What did you think when Mom told you she was pregnant?” “Shit. I pretty much tried not to think about it. We all did. We were teenage boys and it was…shocking. The thought of Mom and Dad…I couldn’t look her in the eye for a week.” She heard the smile in his voice and she was glad for it. He didn’t smile enough.

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They’d had great parents. Her brothers had loved them and missed them in a way she couldn’t. Nick chuckled under his breath. “What?” “Just thinking how she used to make us change your diaper. Said it would make us better fathers. Dad said it would teach us to keep it in our pants. Damn, we had some good fights over who got stuck watching you.” “Then you all got stuck.” The steady motion of the swing hitched. “I didn’t mean it like that, Han. And I didn’t mind so much then. None of us did.” “I know.” And she did. He’d never made her feel like a burden. He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Plus, you were housebroken by then.”

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“Remember how you all used to monsterproof my room? You were the dragon slayer.” “Yep. Dallas was the cootie catcher. Luke was the laser.” “And what was Zach?” “The zapper.” “Yeah. That’s right.” She rested her head against his shoulder. Her big, strong brothers, who she’d always known would protect her. She hadn’t known back then that people were the worst monsters. — Hannah whistled and waited for Winnie to lope over to the pasture fence as the roar of Lexie’s motorcycle dwindled into the distance. Her last student had left hours ago, all chores were done. Winnie chuffed and snorted. Hannah dug in her pocket for a

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sugar cube and held out two closed fists beneath Winnie’s muzzle, playing their guesswhich-hand game. It had only been a few days since she’d seen Stephen, but still…it bothered her that she hadn’t talked to him. Of course he didn’t have her number, her own choice. But she couldn’t help wondering…would he have called her if he did have it? Did men call women after a date? If they were dating? How many dates meant you were dating? He wasn’t a boy looking for a girlfriend. He was a man, looking for…she had no idea. “What do you think, Winnie? You’re a girl. What would a man like that be looking for?” Physically, she wasn’t even sure what she had to offer. She had no idea when she’d be ready. If she’d ever be ready. She’d just barely crossed the hurdle of dating, kissing. But she wanted to kiss him again. Because she was ready or because it was Stephen?

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She gave Winnie a few more minutes of love before returning to the barn office. With the calendar spread before her, she marked her new student’s first appointment for next Tuesday and her gaze landed on the day before it. D-Day. She’d received another official letter from the city, this one giving her a date and time to state her case. She’d researched governments taking private land and found a lot on eminent domain. The way she understood it, they would have to prove that taking her land was necessary for the good of the state or community. She’d been instructed to bring any and all legal documents, but her name wasn’t actually on the deed. She figured they knew that. Even so, she’d gone through everything left in the house, pulled out and looked at every scrap of paper. There was nothing about a will. No mention of any lawyer. But she still had a case. She still had Mr. Bradley’s letter.

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Absently, she circled the date five days out, around and around, making the black line of ink thicker. She still hadn’t told Lexie, and she sure as hell hadn’t told her brothers. There was a certain empowerment in handling it herself, mixed in with the doubt and fear. What she did here was important. She’d make them see that. More important than any road or whatever they wanted the property for. Of course, if the worst happened she’d have to tell everyone because she’d be moving. Even Stephen? Would she need to tell him? The sound of a motorcycle had her smiling. Lexie always forgot something. Taking one last glance at the calendar, she stood and went to meet Lexie. “What’d you forget?” She stepped out of the office with a grin, and walked right into the wall that was Stephen’s chest.

Chapter 14 With a squeak of shock, Hannah’s hands flew up to grip his biceps, and he caught her around the waist. “You have a motorcycle?” “I have a lot of things.” “What are you doing here?” “Had a girl I needed to kiss.” And see and touch. He’d only been back in town a few hours. Hadn’t planned it. Couldn’t explain it. “Any students here?” She shook her head. “No.” “Brothers?” His hands slid lower down her back. Her breath came faster. “Um…no.” Her eyes were wide on his, their bodies flush chest to thigh, and he couldn’t remember ever being this happy to be back from a trip. His fingers grazed her cheek, then slid

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around until he cupped the back of her neck. “Anyone at all I should worry about?” “Worry about?” He covered her mouth in answer, savored the softness of her lips under his. She’d been skittish and shy when they last parted, so he went slow, and he felt the exact second she let go and relaxed into him. She smelled sweet and fresh, like vanilla and honey. Felt even better as her fingers slid up and into his hair, her breasts pressed against his chest. Maybe he hadn’t lost as much ground as he’d feared. He continued loving her mouth, sliding his tongue against hers. When she sighed and slipped more fully into his arms, he walked her back into an empty stall, took his time, kissed her like he wanted to. Like he’d thought way too much about. And, holy hell, kissing her shouldn’t make him this hot, not in all the places he was now burning. He deepened the kiss, tightened his grip at her

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neck and waist. The kiss was hot and hard and when he lifted his head, he found her eyes were still closed. “So damn sweet.” Which only made him want her more. She blinked up at him, eyes dazed, looking every bit like a girl who’d been thoroughly kissed. “It’s hard to breathe around you.” “Is that a good thing?” “I don’t know.” She smiled up at him and he was nearly knocked off his feet. This quiet, unassuming girl was going to kill him. He took a deep breath and forced himself to step back. “Let’s go for a ride.” “On a horse?” Stephen half laughed, half groaned, thinking of the kind of ride he really wanted, and dropped a kiss on her nose. “Yes. We need to do something with you standing here sexy as hell, your mouth all red and shiny.” It was

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either ride or go home and take a cold shower. Of course, a ride might be damn uncomfortable at the moment. He let her step away, knowing his attention clearly baffled her. He liked that too. “I’ll ride Roma.” “Roma?” “He has to be ridden, right? I’d rather it be me than you.” Silly, maybe; she could obviously handle herself, but he still had this urge to protect her. She moved toward the tack room. “You’ve ridden before?” “Not in a while, but my uncle had horses, so I rode quite a bit as a kid.” “Okay. That’s Roma’s bridle there.” She motioned toward a hook and pointed out the rest. They saddled the horses, Hannah moving around the barn with way more confidence than she moved around him. Once out of the

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gate, the horses walked easily beside each other aside from a few sidesteps by Roma. The afternoon sun was at their backs, beginning its descent over rolling hills. Not hills really, more like gentle slopes, just enough to add texture to the landscape. He glanced over and down at Hannah, as her horse was several hands smaller than Roma. He was struck with a sudden vision of laying her down in the soft grass, making love to her with the sun shining in her hair. “This is nice.” “I like it. It’s always calmed me.” The things he was thinking about doing to her would not inspire calm. “Freedom Farm. Did you name it?” “Yes. It didn’t have any name before.” “Because it gives the kids freedom?” She smiled. “Exactly.” Roma’s ears pricked and he shied as they passed another horse in the last turnout

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pasture. Winnie walked on unaffected. “So is this your only job, you’re full-time here?” He’d wondered, because she said she was a physical therapist, if maybe she worked somewhere else too. “Yep, this is it. I’m lucky. I wouldn’t make enough from students to cover a place like this, but it was all left to me when the previous owners passed away.” He looked over at her. “Left to you? You were related?” “No. They didn’t have any other family. I spent lot of time out here as a teenager and…I guess they thought of me as a granddaughter. I didn’t expect it, but I’m grateful. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else and there’s so much more I want to do. So many ideas I—” She brought Winnie up short. Stephen did the same and followed her gaze to the top of the ridge. “What is it?” “Nothing. I just thought I saw something. Or someone.”

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“Is that part of your property up there?” “Yes.” He didn’t care for the worry in her voice. “What someones are supposed to be there?” “People from the city, I guess. Surveying? I don’t know.” He was still staring at the ridge when she nudged Winnie forward. He had a very bad feeling. “Why would the city be surveying?” “Oh, um…It’s nothing really. I just got a letter from the city planner’s office recently, and…it turns out they might not have left this to me. Something about trusts and domains. I don’t really know.” Son of a bitch. So this was the property Dave had been looking at? Had him looking at? “So it’s not for sale?” “No. Why?” He opened his mouth to tell her what little he knew, then shut it. He’d get the facts, then he’d take care of it.

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— Had she really just told Stephen something she hadn’t even told her brothers? She didn’t need another person worrying about her. “It’s probably nothing.” “Right,” he said, not sounding entirely like he meant it. “There’s a small creek up ahead. Let’s cross that and circle back.” They paused side by side on the shady bank to let the horses drink and she gave Winnie a loving pat. “Have you always ridden?” “No. I started when I was seventeen.” It was a day she remembered well. A drive in the country with Nick, a forced venture from the safety of home. The world had flown by as she stared blankly out the car window. And then she’d said one word. Stop. Even one word was so rare, Nick had stopped right in the middle of the road.

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“What? You want to see the horses?” he’d asked. So completely broken in body and spirit, she still couldn’t say why she’d voiced that one word. Why she’d nodded yes, in answer to his question. But he’d turned in at the gate and in minutes she was limping slowly into the darkness of the barn. She paused at a stall and raised her hand toward a dark brown horse as far as her healing arm would allow. He lowered his head, his velvety muzzle meeting her halfway as if he knew just how much it hurt. When she came back to the present, Stephen was staring at her intently. “What?” “Nothing.” “You’re staring at me.” A lazy smile pulled at his mouth. “I like looking at you. You’re beautiful.” There was no sound above the gurgling water and the wind in the trees.

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“You don’t like me to say that.” No. She didn’t. Because she wasn’t. So much so, it felt like a lie to say thank you. And if he knew— “Hannah.” Without warning, Stephen leaned in his saddle and kissed her. A mind-boggling, toecurling kiss that left her breathless. When they parted, he braced her with a strong hand lest she fall right out of her saddle and into his. Good Lord. The satisfied smile that lit his face was enough to make a girl forget who she was. They returned to the barn, unsaddled, and turned out the horses. Stephen moved easily, mouthwatering in jeans and dusty boots, and she tried not to stare. She’d for sure never be able to go to her favorite wooded spot again without thinking of him. But without the horses as a buffer, inadequacy crept in.

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“Well,” Stephen said, after several minutes passed standing at the fence. “Maybe we could go to dinner one night this week.” “Okay.” Still neither of them moved, both looking at the horses grazing. Now that the sun was setting it felt more on the winter side of spring than summer. She wrapped her arms around her middle, the green knit top she wore not quite enough. Trust him. Mia had said that when she trusted enough, she’d be ready, that everyone had scars. Though she’d seen no evidence that Stephen did. “Do you want to say goodbye to me at my door?” His gaze swung to hers. “What?” “You said once—” “I know what I said. Are you asking me to?”

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He stepped close, so close she could smell him. He was so big, so strong, and yet she’d stood there sandwiched between the wall of the barn and the wall that was Stephen unafraid. Secure even, like he could and would protect her. “I was going to make spaghetti. It always makes too much for one person.” A sexy grin spread across his gorgeous face. “Now it sounds like you’re asking me to dinner.” If she was normal and if they were dating, the next logical step would be to ask him to dinner. “I guess I am.” Moving even closer, he touched her cheek, back to serious Stephen. “You sure?” She nodded. If she wasn’t before, that clinched it.

Chapter 15 So her house had been right here all along. Stephen followed behind Hannah, turning on a barely visible path he hadn’t noticed his first time out. They wound around, moving slowly until the woods opened into a clearing revealing a small log cabin. She got out and tossed a shy smile over her shoulder before leading him up the steps and onto a porch that ran along the front of the house. She unlocked the door and he followed her inside to a small open space that flowed into the kitchen. “Very nice.” “Thank you.” “Need some help?” “No. I just have to heat the sauce and boil the spaghetti. It shouldn’t take long.” She bit her lip and fled to the kitchen.

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He let her retreat and wandered the main room, all pine walls and floor. A cream shag rug lay under the coffee table and a patchwork quilt added a splash of color over the back of a leather couch. The walls were mostly bare, but framed photographs dotted end tables and lined the mantel. He took a closer look at the pictures. Each one displayed a man or groupings of men, her brothers, he assumed. Hoped. A little girl smiled in most of them. A toddler with tiny pigtails poking out the sides of her head, some a little older, sporting missing teeth and long, white-blond hair, not gold as it was now. Turning from the pictures, he ran a hand down the solid wooden post, admiring the craftsmanship. “This is really good work. Did the man who left it to you build it?” “Yes. Long before I knew them.” Stephen crossed the room and leaned against the counter opposite where she stood

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at the stove. He watched her open the same drawer three times before finally taking out a wooden spoon. “You sure you don’t need any help?” “No. I mean…yes. I’m sure I don’t.” “Okay. No rush.” She, however, looked very rushed, and cute, as her words tumbled out in a heap and he fought a smile. “Do you want something to drink? I’m sorry, I should have asked you already. I don’t have a lot of company.” She averted her gaze with that last statement, angled her head toward the refrigerator. “I have soda and iced tea. Or water.” “Tea’s fine.” So maybe it wasn’t just him making her nervous. And if having a man over for dinner was a new thing, he couldn’t help being glad. “So, how long have you lived here? In the cabin?” “Almost two years.” She poured and held out the glass to him with a hand that shook so much, the ice cubes knocked together.

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Damn, was she nervous? Or maybe afraid? Was she hiding from someone out here in the woods? The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable by asking, but he couldn’t help wondering if someone had hurt her, scared her. If so, he’d find out who and do some hurting of his own. He watched her intently as she got out butter and Parmesan and opened a loaf of French bread. “Here. Let me at least cut the bread.” He straightened and moved toward her. “My mom always told me not to stand around like a log.” “Okay.” She went back to the stove to stir the sauce. “So they left everything to you in their will? The property, the house?” “Not exactly.” While she explained, he sawed off pieces of bread, buttered them on a tray, and put them in the oven.

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“I guess Mr. Bradley had a feeling when he went into the hospital that he wouldn’t be coming home. And he didn’t. He told me there was an envelope for me in the barn office and the next day he died. Just three weeks after his wife. Almost like he didn’t want to live without her.” Something he could understand, Stephen thought. “The physical therapy part was just an idea, but the Bradleys liked it, wanted the place used for something good after they were gone. I have a date to go in and state my case. No one will talk to me before then.” “I could look into it for you.” “No. But thanks.” He’d be looking anyway. If the city was looking to take it for revenue purposes, which was possible, they’d be more eager if they thought they had a buyer. He’d do everything in his power to make sure they didn’t. And if his partner hadn’t gotten the

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message before, he’d make damn sure he did now. When the pasta was ready, they sat across from each other at her small table. Always ready for a meal, he poised his fork to dig in. Hannah raised a hand to her forehead, beginning the sign of the cross. Crap. He dropped his fork and joined her, thinking his mother would probably cry if she knew how long it had been since he’d done that. Or that the only mention of God from his usual companions was in direct praise of his performance. “It’s good,” he finally managed after inhaling several bites. “Really good.” “Thanks. My brother taught me to cook, so…I always wonder if it just tastes good to me or…” She shrugged. “Probably not as good as your mom’s.” “Another casualty of being raised by wolves?”

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She took a bite and smiled. “Honestly, it’s better, though I’ll deny that if you tell her I said so.” He watched her eat, more at ease than she’d been the last time they’d sat across from each other. Progress. Progress toward what? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he felt good when he was around her. And until he’d met her, he hadn’t realized how much he needed to feel good. He’d be perfectly happy just to sit here all night and watch her eat. The way she cut her spaghetti into small pieces instead of twirling, the way she smiled at him across the table, just being Hannah. “So why do you think they didn’t have a will drawn up?” “They weren’t really the kind of people who thought about paperwork. They were more about animals and hard labor. Simple. And they lived a simple life.” “And you like that kind of life too.”

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“I do.” She pushed her spaghetti around her plate. “I’d be happy to never go anywhere. I hardly ever do. I’m happiest on a horse.” He could see that. And most comfortable. “What about you? Where are you happiest?” “At work.” His answer came easily, instinctively, though maybe not as true as it once was. They finished and he helped her with the dishes, him washing, her drying. “Well, that was fun,” he said, wiping his hands on a towel. She narrowed her eyes. “A playboy who likes doing dishes?” “Playboy?” He slipped his arms around her back, trying hard not to think about how perfect it felt. How perfect she felt. “Who says I’m a playboy?” “Um…” She looked like she wanted to backtrack. “Magazines. People.”

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So she did know. “Your brothers?” “Maybe.” “And what about you? What do you say?” “I say I wouldn’t know.” “Do I look like a playboy?” “Uh, yeah.” She gave him such a duh look, he had to laugh. “You’re sweet. You know that?” Too sweet for a playboy like him, but he wasn’t leaving. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.” “Done what?” “Had a woman cook for me. Eaten in her house.” He brought a lock of hair over her shoulder, the back of his hand grazing her chest as he rubbed the strands between his fingers. “What do you usually do at a woman’s house?” Realization dawned and the tension in the room returned tenfold.

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“Hannah. Have you ever had a man over for dinner?” “No. I mean…my brothers come over a lot.” “So if they found me here, they’d probably kill me, huh?” Her eyes went wide at the thought. Probably because it was entirely possible, but he laughed. “Don’t worry. I can hold my own.” And then some. “Plus, it would be totally worth it.” Their eyes caught and held until she moved to turn away. He made a grab for her hand and gently pulled her back. She blinked up at him as he brushed his thumb slowly along the inside of her wrist. She had no idea what her pressing her teeth into that sexy lip did to him. The way her quick breaths made her chest rise and fall. So many women worked to get his attention and this one didn’t even have to try, didn’t know what to do with it when she did.

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Her eyes darted past him into the next room. “I’m just…I’m not sure…” “What to do next? I’ll show you.” He pulled her over to the couch, sat, and snagged the remote. “Sit.” He patted the spot next to him and propped his feet on the table. “Come on. Trust me.” She obeyed, leaving way too much space between them. “Closer.” She scooted. Still not close enough but he’d get there, though he’d never worked quite this hard. Much to the dismay of his dick, he kinda liked it. “There you go. Feet up. Now I put my arm around you and we cruise channels.” “We watch TV?” “Nah. This is just a ruse to sit close to you.” He sank down and got more comfortable. “I like this couch. It’s kind of a guy couch.”

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“My brothers bought it.” He would zero in on a girl with an army of brothers. He had a flash of himself and Andrew sitting in the back of his truck, waiting to warn off Lizzy’s dates. Payback was a bitch. “So where are your brothers tonight?” “Nick’s working. He’s an FBI agent.” It just got better and better. “Zach’s on call at the fire station, and Luke…I’m not sure.” “And the fourth brother?” “Dallas. Zach’s twin, not that they look alike. He’s…we’re not really sure where he is.” She picked at a thread on her jeans. “You’ve got a lot of people watching out for you.” “Yeah,” she said with a wry smile. “Sometimes too many.” No. They might be a pain in his ass, but he was glad for it. Glad she had people looking out for her. He had a flash of what it might

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be like if that was his job. If it was, he’d be on guard for men like himself. He took her hand and played with her fingers, marveling at how small they were. Her nails short and unpainted, not girlie in a flashy way, but utterly feminine. It couldn’t have been easy growing up without a mother. God help Lizzy if she’d been raised by her brothers. He flipped through the channels and they agreed on a college basketball game. They replayed impressive shots, argued bad calls. He’d forgotten about the quiet times with a woman. Not chasing or enjoying what he’d caught, but just being. It was easy and natural when it should have been neither. “I saw Lola today,” she said after a while. “She asked about you.” Stephen slid his arm closer around her shoulder and stroked his fingers over her hair. He loved the feel of it and of her body leaning into his.

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“You know…” she began, then stopped. “What?” “I just…I noticed how great you were with her, and you seemed…different with your nieces and nephews.” Had it been that obvious? He made a sound in his throat and nodded slowly. “Why is that?” “I don’t know.” He studied the remote in his hand. “I guess I don’t see them much.” Not like he used to. Which explained nothing, since he’d never met Lola. Except maybe that’s what had made it easier. “Why don’t you see them?” Because he wasn’t the same man they’d known before? Because he never would be. Because the kinds of things he imagined doing didn’t make him fit to be around children. Or Hannah. Though when he was with her, his dark side seemed to pale a bit.

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She angled her head back to meet his eyes. “They’re all you have, you know.” “Yeah.” He knew. And they’d been close before. Very close. But they weren’t all he had. He had Trace, and though he may not have her, sitting here with Hannah was definitely…something. That very thought should have him running. “So what are the plans for the more you mentioned that you wanted to do here?” “Not plans really, just ideas.” “And?” “Well, I was thinking maybe more than riding. More ways kids could be active outside, do their physical therapy without it feeling like work. They’ve already been hurt so much. Maybe more animals, rescue dogs, abused horses. A place they could all heal together.” “Like things kids would normally do playing with their friends. Maybe a special playground with ramps and pulleys?”

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She sat up to face him. “Yes. You get it. You see it.” She told him more about animals and kids, her eyes shining with excitement, her voice animated. He loved seeing her happy like this and he did see it. The play set in Matt’s backyard with modifications. Ropes and harnesses for the rock wall and monkey bars, special swings. Plans began to form in his mind, and he decided then and there, she wasn’t going to lose this land. She settled back against him again, resting her head in the space between his chest and shoulder. “What about you? Any dreams or have you already achieved them all?” “I don’t know.” He’d made enough money, outwitted enough worthy opponents. There had to be something more. “I think you’d be good at building. You know, the actual planning part. You see things others don’t, like where benches should be to watch sunsets.”

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His chest tightened. He’d barely made mention of that at the boardwalk, practically made the comment under his breath. But Hannah had listened and remembered. More than that, she saw something good in the man he was now. Not wanting him to be anything other than what he was in this moment. What he might be in the future. Who did he have in his life who hadn’t known him before and wasn’t waiting for him to return to his old self? Not counting his flings between the sheets, who he made sure didn’t see any side of him. They were quiet awhile and he combed his fingers through her hair, letting the cool silk of it fall over his hands. He imagined the soft pieces falling over his nude body, imagined she was naked against him. He continued the motion. Peaceful. Mesmerizing. Or as peaceful as he could get sitting this close to her, because he we also getting very hot. “I love your hair.”

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She took hold of a section, wrapped it around her finger, and pulled it across her face. “Why do you do that?” “What?” “Hide,” he said, covering her hand with his and easing it down. “I’m not. I…don’t.” She let it go. “Bad habit, I guess.” Leaning around to face her, he lifted up long strands and brushed them over his lips, under his nose. He breathed in the fruity scent, sighed at the baby softness. “I could get in the habit.” Color rose in her creamy cheeks and it made him hot knowing he could make her flush with just a look. He slid one arm around her back and captured her mouth in a deep, probing kiss. They explored, stroked; tasting her again made him crave more. He ached for her in a way that felt like a lot more

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than want and taking a dangerous slide toward need. Her arms circled his neck and he pulled her closer, letting his hand drift from her hip upward to the underside of her breast. Just far enough to tease the curves that had teased him in the barn. His fingers skated under the edge of her shirt, and he wanted to relieve her of the entire thing. She pulled her mouth from his at the same time her fingers clamped down on his wrist. “Don’t.” He’d reached the no-go line. His hand came to an abrupt halt but his heart raced ahead. She stretched the hem of her shirt down over the top of her jeans. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was soft, breathy, and it took him a second to come back to himself. As much as he wanted her, he had to slow it down. Making out on the couch was evidently way different than kissing against the barn wall.

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With a finger under her chin, he gently raised her face. Again he wanted to ask if someone had hurt her. Was there some weird brotherly power thing going on? But her eyes seemed to beg him not to, implored him to let it go. So he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, sat back, and pulled her into his side. “Maybe we should do some of that TV watching.” — An hour later he stood on her front porch working himself up to goodbye. This shouldn’t be so hard. He was open and honest with women. No games. And Hannah didn’t want games. She’d asked him, begged him, not to play with her. But that’s all he did. Anything more serious with a woman just thrust him back to a time of loss and pissed him off. Hannah stared up at him, all wide-eyed and innocent, her cloud of hair blowing

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gently around her shoulders. He opened his mouth to say I don’t do relationships. “Thank you for dinner.” “You’re welcome.” Well, shit. He tried again. Started to say something like, I’m not sure where this can go, I’m not looking to get involved, even as his hand slid around her back and the other snaked up and into her hair. Then Hannah wound her arms around his neck and he was kissing her. His lips moved over hers and it was unlike any good-night kiss he’d ever given or received. Still shocked by what just kissing her did to him. But with Hannah, there was no just. Everything about her was magnified into a tangle of confusion. Her lips felt like heaven against his. Her taste the sweetest he’d ever known. But he pulled back. If he didn’t do it soon, he’d never leave. “I’ll be traveling the next few days.”

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“Okay.” He peered into the dark woods, not feeling too good about his important trip at the moment. “You need a dog.” Or three. “I had one.” He followed her gaze to two silver dog bowls on the end of the porch, empty, stacked one on the other. “That day in the grocery store…” Shit. There was a reason she’d been crying, of course there was, though he’d never asked. “Ah, baby, I’m sorry.” “It’s okay. He was old.” But it wasn’t okay. “Your brothers live nearby?” “Yes.” He nodded, looked around again, needing to go, fighting the urge to stay. He made it halfway to his motorcycle when he spun back, climbed the steps, and pressed one more kiss on that sweet mouth.

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“Lock up.” He waited until she did, then left while he still could.

Chapter 16 Stephen’s private jet touched down at JFK International. He was met by Robert Sinclair’s personal driver, who whisked him into the city during the height of rush hour. Tired of the back-and-forth over this deal, he was ready to make a billion-dollar decision. If his backing wasn’t going into Sinclair Resorts, it would go somewhere else. You didn’t make money by sitting on what you had. He leaned back against the black leather and watched the world rush by as the workday ended and nightlife began. New York, the city of money and power. The heartbeat of the business world. But Trace Development was in Virginia, because that’s where his fiancée had wanted it. He’d thought to move a hundred times since, and a hundred times pushed the

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thought aside. He couldn’t run from memories. Couldn’t run from the fact that she was gone. Murdered by two teenagers who had nothing better to do than follow an unsuspecting woman home. If he’d had his way and they’d married sooner, he’d have been left a widower. As it was, he’d just been really close. Close to vows, close to rings, then left with nothing to show he’d been weeks from binding himself to one person for life. Nothing but pain and fury eating away at him. Like all the McKinneys, he’d considered himself a one-woman man. That’s who he’d been. Who he wanted to be. A certain woman with golden-brown eyes was threatening that. A single horn honked, then a chorus, as the car came to a stop in lower Manhattan. The driver opened the door and Stephen went from the silence of his thoughts to the noise and pulse of the city. A few steps took

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him through another door and into the dark and quiet of the restaurant. The maître d’ led him through a room done in deep reds and dark wood. The kind of place that fifty years ago wouldn’t have allowed women. They continued down a narrow and dimly lit staircase to a century-old wine cellar turned private dining room. “McKinney.” Sinclair’s voice boomed and the large man struggled to stand and offer a hand. “I trust Marcus got you here in style.” “He did, yes. Unnecessary, but appreciated.” Stephen shook the hand of the man he knew wavered between wanting to crush him and wanting to bring him into the fold. Robert believed the old guard should hold the power and the riches over the young. Too damn bad. “You know Don and Lyle.” “Yes.” He extended a hand to Sinclair’s son-in-law and the other man who was soon

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to be, the former sporting an honest-to-God cravat at the neck. “Sit, sit.” The patriarch gestured to the chair at the far end of the table. “We just ordered drinks, and that little lady should be bringing a plate of appetizers any second.” “Dave couldn’t make it?” Lyle asked. “No. He had other matters.” Which was becoming a pattern. Stephen received his drink in short order and listened to the decidedly unbusinesslike conversation that followed. He wasn’t surprised when ten minutes later Blair, Robert’s youngest and most lethal daughter, swept from the dim staircase and into the room. Dark auburn hair half twisted up, her luscious body poured into a dress the same devil-red as her nails and just as dangerous. He knew. Had even enjoyed it. “Hello, Stephen.”

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He stood, accepted the kiss she placed on his cheek in greeting. Blair’s lips curved in a sly smile as she took the seat beside him, then she deliberately turned her attention to her father. Sinclair led the table discussion, talking project details; cost projections, increasing potential gains for Trace Development, lessening potential losses. He ate his steak, listened, asked questions, and took in all that was spoken and unspoken. Details given and ones omitted. Carelessly or cleverly, not that it mattered. He was getting the information he wanted, which was why he preferred to do business in person. Better to read a man’s true intentions. And those weren’t the only intentions going around the table. Each time he glanced up, Blair’s green eyes met his. Challenging. Daring. A game they both liked to play. It continued through dinner and after drinks,

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her sending him looks, giving him seductive grazes under the table. Even with the pointy toe of Blair’s shoe sliding purposely up his calf, he couldn’t stop thinking about a kiss and a girl with eyes the same amber color as the liquid in his glass. And he wanted more. Of the girl, not the whiskey. He was thinking about her too much. It didn’t feel right. Didn’t feel right not to think about her either. He didn’t think about women when he was doing business. Certainly didn’t miss them or think of calling them, wishing he had their number. Of course, he couldn’t remember ever not having a woman’s number. They usually made sure he did. Dinner ended and they slipped into their coats. Stephen stepped forward and held out his hand to Robert. “Thank you for dinner.” “This is a good deal, McKinney. You’d be a fool not to get in at the beginning.”

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“I’ve never been a fool.” “No,” Sinclair said, easing out of Stephen’s grip. “I don’t suppose you’d be where you are if you had.” They made their way up, pausing on the main level, where Blair slid onto a stool at the polished cherry bar. “I trust I can count on you to get my daughter home, McKinney?” Stephen glanced over, caught her wolfish smile. He was no stranger to businessmen pushing women to make a potential partner happy, but his own daughter? Not that Blair couldn’t take care of herself. “Yes, sir.” He shook the man’s hand again and watched the group exit to a waiting limo. Blair raked her eyes over him like a dangerous feline as he sat. “You know…my father would like to have you as a son-in-law.” She took the drinks the bartender set before her and slid one to him.

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“Really? And what does his daughter say about that?” Her lips curled. “I don’t know about involving the law just yet. But…we’ve had fun before.” “Yes. We have.” He wondered if her father knew and didn’t care. “Doesn’t he want his baby girl to fall in love?” Stephen tilted the glass to circle the liquid around the edge. Amused, Blair eyed him over the rim of her own. “What’s going on with you? Are you dating someone?” “I don’t date.” “True.” She took a sip. “Seeing someone then?” He supposed you could call it that, though he’d held her hand in a movie, for God’s sake. He hadn’t done that since— “Excuse me for a minute, will you?” Blair smiled over her shoulder, then slipped off to greet a couple at a nearby table.

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He watched her move. Drank in the sight of her dress gaping generously to reveal half a breast. One he’d been intimate with. One of many. It had taken him over two years after burying the love of his life, but a drunken night in Switzerland had broken his celibacy seal. A hot tub, a naked woman, and a fifth of Jack. Then again and again until it had gotten easier. To do. Never easier to live with. Rote and rough, fast and impersonal. Always from behind so he wouldn’t see their faces. Wouldn’t be reminded of who he was with and who he wasn’t. Stilling the emotion pulsing just below the surface. Holding himself in rigid control because he couldn’t risk more. Wouldn’t risk opening himself up to everything that was inside him. Just taking what he wanted after everything had been taken from him. But the way he wanted Hannah was a very different thing.

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Blair returned, drained her glass, then his. She held out her hand to him. “Let’s go.” The valet brought Blair’s car around and Stephen slipped into the driver’s seat of the tiny Maserati. “Same address?” “Yes.” They drove several blocks in silence until he felt her clever hand inching up his leg. There was no reason not to take what she offered, but as soon as he thought it, a golden-eyed angel invaded his thoughts. “Is this your father’s proposition or yours?” Her hand moved higher. “Which one are you saying yes to?” “Neither. I’m saying no to one, and maybe to the other.” Bold as usual, she rubbed him through his pants. “The maybe is to your father, Blair. The no is to you.”

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Quick as a snake her hand tightened. But he was quick too, and always anticipating the next move. He covered her wrist, applied enough pressure to send a strong warning before she got any ideas about twisting his balls. “Your loss.” Her hand retreated, but her voice was cutting. “My proposal was the better one.” Neither spoke again until they reached her Manhattan apartment building. He started to get out, figuring he’d take a cab. “No. Take the car,” she said. “I’ll send for it tomorrow. And I’ll make sure Daddy knows you made it home safely.” He watched her to the door. Not the first enemy he’d made in business, surely not the last. Though a woman scorned made for a particularly dangerous one.

Chapter 17 Stephen parked his motorcycle at the recreational soccer complex. He cut the engine and hit speed dial while he unbuckled his helmet. “Hey, been trying to reach you,” he said when Dave finally answered. “Yeah. Sorry about that. What’s up?” He put his helmet on the back and stood. “Just wanted to let you know I’ve decided against the St. Kitts deal with Sinclair.” “He’s not going to be happy.” “No.” A beat of silence followed and he wondered why Dave cared about Sinclair’s happiness. “Listen, one more thing. That piece of property you were interested in out on Highway Thirty-two”—the one he’d said no to—“it’s not for sale. I’m curious as to why you thought it was.”

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“I didn’t. But I had some inside information we could get the jump on.” “What kind of jump?” And why hadn’t that info been relayed to him? “Just the scoop on a possible eminent domain case that would likely end in a sale. Why? What did you hear about it?” “That it wasn’t for sale. That there was still a question of ownership.” “Mmm.” Dave made a sound like he was only mildly interested. “Where’d you get that information?” “From the owner.” “Ah. Camila did mention your little detour a couple of weeks ago.” That shouldn’t surprise him. “So you’re that hot for her, huh? That why you were against the deal?” Stephen heard the sneer, and the muscles in his jaw ticked. “She’s a nice woman. Does something with kids and horses. It’s a good

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thing. I’d hate to see her lose it. And my answer was no before I knew it was hers.” “Right. Well, I’m sure if she can produce some certified documents, a copy of the will, there won’t be any trouble.” “That’s the thing. She doesn’t think there is a will. Just a handwritten letter.” “Really? Huh. That’s interesting.” “But I plan to help her any way I can. It’s not high value, I haven’t found any reason they’d be going after it. Doesn’t make sense.” “Nope. Doesn’t seem to.” Stephen stuck the keys in his pocket and started walking. “Let me know if you hear anything else about the sale, will you?” “Sure thing. And listen. I wanted to say I’m sorry if I’ve been distracted lately. My mom’s not doing well. Cancer.” “Shit. Why didn’t you tell me?”

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“It was only tests at first. Guess I didn’t want to say it out loud, you know. Made it too real.” “That’s tough, man. You need time, you take it. No problem.” “Thanks, man.” Shit. He ended the call and made his way between the fields. High-pitched whistles mixed with the squeals of kids and exuberant screams from parents. The entire expanse seemed to ripple in a mix of colors, running in chaotic packs. Matt had texted him the time and place of Annie’s soccer game, as he’d done several times recently. Matt’s kids were really the only ones Stephen had a chance to have a fresh start with. Until now, he hadn’t taken it. Hannah’s words had echoed. They’re all you have. And here he was. After locating the right field, it didn’t take him long to find his brother. With the McKinney height and build, Matt stood out.

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Especially with a tiny curly-topped toddler propped on one arm. “Hey, man.” Stephen didn’t miss the raised eyebrow or the surprise in his brother’s eyes. “Hey.” His brother’s youngest, Mary, held out what might have been a soppy chunk of graham cracker. “No, thanks.” He brushed a finger over the back of her dimpled hand. She squealed, mumbled something unintelligible, and smeared the goo across Matt’s cheek. God, she was cute. Like a mini version of Gracie. And Matt guarded all of them like a bear. Stephen almost reached out to hold her, but stuffed his hands in his pockets. “How’s the game?” “Good. Tied.” Matt eyed the field. “Charlie, move back a bit, bud.” Charlie, who he thought was somewhere around four, logrolled away from the field,

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coming to a stop against his feet. “Hey, up there.” Stephen smiled. “Hey, down there.” “I want an ICEE.” “Not yet,” Matt answered before Stephen had a chance to say something like, Sure. He scanned the soccer field until he found his niece. A few inches taller than the other girls, she kicked and battled among disorganized clumps of red and blue jerseys. “You better go say hi to your mother. You’re on the bottom, you know.” He smiled at Matt’s reminder of the board Lizzy had kept as kids, listing them in order of Mom’s most favorite to least. His smile wavered when he glanced toward the bleachers and saw the majority of the McKinney clan cheering. Damn. Should have known a whole pack of them would’ve turned out for the seven-year-old’s soccer match.

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His stomach took a sudden dive. Dave’s mom had cancer and for the better part of five years he’d avoided his own. But still, he hoped their smiles weren’t so large and hugs not so tight. It embarrassed him. Reminded him of all the times he hadn’t been here, that they hadn’t expected him to be here now. “Where’s Abby?” “She took Gracie out to ride horses.” A funny feeling tightened in his stomach, then spread to his chest. It had only been three days since he’d said goodbye on her porch. It seemed like longer. That very fact had him holding himself back. He wanted her with a growing desperation, but beyond that—there was no beyond that for him. “Yeah, they went— Go! Go, baby girl!” Matt erupted at the sight of his oldest breaking away from the pack.

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So at odds with the Navy SEAL brother who’d jumped out of planes and snuck up on the enemy in the dead of night. The I could kill you with a Q-tip guy. But he’d never seen his brother happier. Just another reason he’d distanced himself from all of them. It hurt. And it scared him. Loving someone had brought out the worst in him. Had shown him the dark places inside him that he hadn’t known were there and never wanted to see again. “Speed! Use your speed!” Annie made a sidestepping move, tripped, recovered, and shot. The ball rolled past the keeper and into the far corner of the net. “That’s the way, baby girl! Just like that!” She ignored her teammates to look at Matt, sending him the brightest smile. “My girl’s got talent. You’ve got to admit.” “How could I miss seeing a future pro soccer player in the making?”

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“In the making?” Matt scoffed. “She’s practically there.” There was a piercing yet familiar whistle from behind them on another field. “Is that—” “Patrick. Yes.” Stephen looked back over his shoulder at his brother, fondly referred to as Number Five. “He’s coaching the under-eight boys.” “I’m surprised you’re not out there,” Stephen said. “Oh, I am. I coach Jack. I’d be out there with Annie, but some other dad beat me to it. Won’t happen next year,” he added. “You should join me. I’ll let you be my assistant.” “That’s funny.” “Dad.” Charlie pulled on Matt’s free hand, then jumped to hang on his arm. “I want an ICEE.”

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“We were talking about getting up a football game after this. You should come over.” Charlie went for the baby’s cracker and she jerked and kicked hot-pink glittery boots the size of his thumb. “I don’t know.” “What don’t you know?” If he was ready to go back to things he used to do. If he was ready to— “Don’t be an a-hole.” Stephen raised a brow at his brother. “Ahole?” “The kids, you idiot.” “Idit,” Mary repeated. “It’s idiot,” Charlie corrected his sister and dropped to the grass. “Great,” Matt muttered. “Now I’m in trouble. You’ll come. You’ll eat. And then I’ll wipe the playing field with your ugly face.” Stephen didn’t say anything. “Unless you’re scared.”

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“Of what?” “Getting embarrassed on the McKinney field of champions.” “You wish. I can kick your secret soldier as—a-hole, any day.” “You’re welcome to try.” — Stephen hadn’t been in his brother’s kitchen since the night of Gracie’s party, when he’d run in here to escape Hannah. Or memories. Or both, because somehow one brought the other. And because seeing her holding that baby had stirred something he didn’t want stirred. Matt popped straws into juice boxes and tossed prepackaged snacks. “That ought to tide them over till lunch.” As the kids stampeded out the back door with their booty, Matt pulled a six-pack from the fridge and

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passed it to Andrew. “Stephen’s going to coach with me next year.” “If I do, it won’t be as your assistant. Did you even play soccer?” “I played soccer,” Lizzy said, walking in and setting a covered bowl on the counter. “Of course he’ll be the assistant,” Matt said. “I’m older.” Lizzy smirked and grabbed a beer for herself. “And a little old to be pulling the I’m older card, aren’t you?” As they stepped outside, they argued the merits of being older versus being a woman and therefore naturally smarter. “Careful,” Lizzy teased. “Better not say anything you wouldn’t want repeated to your wives.” “Shit. Still got us by the balls.” Andrew shook his head and joined Patrick, already down in the yard throwing with the boys.

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More sisters-in-law and kids filtered through the kitchen and to the backyard, tossing out greetings and pleasant smiles. He’d thought to play football, not jump into a family gathering. “So what’s up with your girl?” Matt asked, eyes on the kids. “She’s not my girl.” A uneasy feeling spread through the tension in his face to his stomach. She was something, though he didn’t know what that was, or even what it could be. Hannah wasn’t the kind of girl to be just anything to a man. She wasn’t casual. Only an idiot would want her casually. Matt smiled, looking smug. “Just keep telling yourself that. You know what they say about denial.” Stephen raised his bottle to his lips, took a long drink, and admitted he didn’t know what the hell he was doing. “Dad!”

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“Coming, bud. So what happened after we left you at the barn? You stay or go?” “I stayed.” Matt’s smile grew. “Figured you might.” “Dad!” Jack shouted again before Stephen could tell his brother to fuck off. Matt tapped the neck of his bottle against his own. “Ready to get your ass kicked?” “In your dreams.” “Hey, Jack, you better be on Uncle Stevie’s team. He doesn’t really know how to play.” “Dick,” he muttered at Matt’s back. Matt laughed. “Hey, Mom, you want to know what Steve just called me?” “Don’t call your brother that, it’s not his name. And no, I don’t.” She settled herself in a chair under a shade tree. “And both of you watch your mouth. There are little ones out here.” “Yes, ma’am.”

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As if to prove their mother’s point, Gracie came flying down the stairs, over the grass, and wrapped herself around Matt’s legs. “Daddy! I rode Hazel again and I’m going to be the best horse rider ever! Hannah said so. Right, Hannah?” Stephen’s eyes jerked up to the shadowed doorway leading onto the deck. Abby appeared and waved down at Matt. “Hey, babe. Look who I talked into joining us.” Hannah followed and moved to the rail next to Abby. Her gaze met his with a tentative smile, and the bottom dropped out of his stomach. If not seeing her caused a knot in his gut, seeing her brought a damn entanglement. And right this second, he couldn’t remember why he’d been so confused.

Chapter 18 Hannah watched the McKinney men divide themselves into teams and huddle up while a battle of nerves and excitement played out inside her. It was obvious from the way Stephen had looked at her that he was as surprised as she was. “I had no idea he’d be here,” Abby said, joining her on the grass. “By the look on your face I can’t tell if it’s good or bad.” Neither could she. She’d told Abby he came over for dinner last week. She’d left off the make-out session on the couch and the part when she’d put an awkward stop to it. “I’m not sure. He makes me…” Abby smiled. “Hot? Tingly?” “Confused.”

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“Yes. That too.” Abby sighed. “Relationships are complicated.” Maybe more so with her than most. No doubt a man like Stephen wanted more than kisses at the door and she still hadn’t been completely honest with him. But the heat in his eyes when they’d met hers minutes ago…Did she imagine that? The way he’d kissed her goodbye on her porch looking like he didn’t want to leave… She’d just recently decided she wanted to try, and even that had been in a far-off, abstract kind of way. Watching Stephen bent over in a huddle, wearing jeans and a T-shirt that molded to his upper body, she thought there was nothing abstract about Stephen. He was big and hard and very…real. His worn jeans hugged his thighs and butt, his boots were off. Even his feet were sexy. Her body went hot and tight at the memory of his kiss. The feel of his lips moving over hers and the taste of his mouth.

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She’d never dated. Never had a boyfriend. Had just barely begun to have an interest in boys when her life had all but stopped. Lizzy joined them and handed her a glass of lemonade. “Please tell me we’re not the only family with grown men who run around in the backyard like boys.” “No.” Hannah smiled, grateful for the distraction. “Everything’s a competition to men. Who can burp the loudest. Who can fit the most cookies into their mouth.” Lizzy nodded in agreement. “So true. That’s right, you have brothers.” “Yes. Four.” “Oh, girl. We could swap childhood nightmares. Getting zipped up in sleeping bags, feet stuck into a spinning ceiling fan.” It hadn’t exactly been that kind of childhood, but she smiled anyway. Conversation dropped off as the game got under way.

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The men talked trash. The women cheered and laughed while they chased toddlers. Stephen’s mom sat nearby with a referee’s whistle and she wasn’t afraid to blow it. She scolded them for being too rough, using their full names like they were little boys instead of full-grown men. Hannah would have loved to see her own mother scold her bossy brothers. And, as Abby had explained, no matter what, the game would end in a tie. She smiled at the rightness of that. Of a mother’s sense of love and fairness. When Stephen took off his shirt, it was like all the air had been sucked from the backyard. Nothing could have made her look away from the rippling muscle, or the sheen of sweat that covered his back and shoulders. All the brothers were good, the teams evenly matched, but Stephen was by far the best, his athleticism, speed, and strength evident in every move. She wanted to run her hands and mouth over every inch of him, and she

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had nothing else to do but stand there getting hot and bothered. To wonder what the light dusting of black hair on his chest would feel like under her fingers. And the line of it that disappeared into the waist of his jeans, leading her eyes right to what she wondered about most. “Look at that,” Matt yelled after Stephen made a stunning catch. “He can still play.” Yes. He could. And looked incredibly good doing it. And when he handed the football off to one of the little boys, then scooped him up and made a run for the goal, her heart melted. The game ended, high fives were given all around. Husbands kissed their wives, kids begged for food, and Stephen walked to where she waited at the swing set. He didn’t stop until he’d closed every bit of space between them. Until his wide body shielded her from the rest of his family. Neither spoke for several long hot seconds. Tiny beads of

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sweat ran along his temple and down his stubbled jaw. Strong and solid. Hot and sweaty, liquid brown eyes heavy with desire. For her. So close she could feel the heat rolling off his skin, could breathe in his sexy man smell. He raised his hands to the wooden beam above her head, boxing her in. “You threw my game off.” She swallowed against her dry throat. “I did?” “Definitely. It took everything I had not to come over here, screw the game.” And it took everything she had not to slick her palms over his abs, his chest, and around his shoulders. “I could feel your eyes on me. I can’t think straight when you look at me like that.” She didn’t know exactly how she’d been looking at him, but she knew what she’d been thinking. Good Lord. Had everyone

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seen it? And now he was looking at her like he’d won the grand prize and she was it. She had the thought that maybe she should run, that she wasn’t ready for this. For him. But she laid a shaky hand against his side, felt him suck in a breath between his teeth. “I need a shower.” “I don’t care.” Stephen cursed under his breath. “I’ll take you home.” He took her hand in his and grabbed his shirt off the back of a chair, barely giving his family a backward glance.

Chapter 19 Stephen pulled her behind him out the gate, and she’d waved a hasty goodbye to Abby with what she imagined was a ridiculous smile on her face. They went around to his motorcycle parked at the curb and he fastened his helmet on her head. He slipped on his shirt, and cranked the motor. “Hold on.” She did, because what else does a girl do when a man tells her to get on the back of his motorcycle? She hugged him tight enough that her breasts pressed against his muscled back. The motor vibrated between her legs and the ridges of his abs flexed under her hands. Exhilarating. Arousing. Hot. But mostly it was being with Stephen. Just the two of them, the warmth of the sun, and the whipping wind as they flew down the

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highway. Wild and free. Like being on a horse, only a million times better because she wasn’t alone. Too soon, they turned in to the gate and made their way through a tunnel of trees. They stopped in front of her porch under a sprinkle of sunlight, the sudden shade after the sun bringing chills to her skin. Stephen cut the motor, flipped the kickstand, and got off the bike. So large and capable. Skilled and in command. She was about to ask him if they could do this again, but before she opened her mouth, he lifted the helmet from her head and dropped it on the ground, not once taking his eyes from hers. Like he couldn’t see anything else. Like there was nothing and no one else. Then he got on the bike again, facing her. Her legs were spread on the hot leather seat, open to him as he was to her. It felt wicked, and dangerous. Big hands came down on her thighs, hot and heavy. He ran

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his palms over the fabric of her jeans, starting at her knees and moving upward. Then down, and up again, slowly from her knees to where her thigh met hip. And still his eyes held hers. In a sudden move he gripped her legs just above the knee and pulled, sliding her along the seat until not even a breath separated them. So close she could barely breathe. “Hannah.” He spoke her name on a breath, making her insides dip and dive. Then, with their gazes still locked, he speared his fingers roughly into her hair and covered her mouth with his. It was a kiss so hot, so fierce, there was no room for anything else. No fear. No second thoughts. Without hesitation, her arms circled his neck, his back. Her fingers slid up and into his damp hair and she kissed him back with everything she had. With one hand still tangled in her hair, the other moved seductively down her side, and

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an unfamiliar need rose inside her. Keeping her dazed with his kiss, his palm teased lower, stopping just short of the apex between her legs. Her body tightened and buzzed, warmed and melted. He kept her guessing as to what he would do next, where he would touch her, how he would kiss her. Fast or slow. Gentle nips or deep strokes. He covered her bottom with both hands and brought their bodies fully together and held. Between two layers of denim, she felt him hard between her legs. Arousal crawled along every nerve ending and spread. He rubbed against her, rocked her against him. Trailed hot, openmouthed kisses down her neck until she was coming apart. On a rumbled curse his mouth left hers and in two quick moves he had her off the bike. He carried her easily, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, his boots knocking on the three wooden steps.

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Hannah kissed her way over the salty skin of his neck and smiled at his muttered oaths while he fought to unlock the door. A second after he kicked it closed behind them, her back was against the solid wood. His hot mouth crushed down over hers. Her fingers pulled at his hair. Their tongues mated and her greedy fingers found the edge of his T-shirt and slid under. Her skin was on fire under his lips and a liquid heat curled in her belly and lower as she ran her hands over his bare stomach and chest. With a groan, he spun her away from the wall and in seconds she landed with a soft bounce on the couch. He stripped off his shirt and his mouth came back to hers in a scorching kiss. Long fingers, hot and slightly rough, slipped under her shirt. Up and over her rib cage until he covered her through the thin satin of her bra. He stroked his thumb over her nipple as his lips traveled across her

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shoulder. She’d never felt anything like this. It felt so good, so…she didn’t know what, but she wanted more. She spread her fingers over the expanse of his chest and arms. Pulled at his shoulders and raised her hips. “Slow down,” he whispered against her lips and took his time, cruising his mouth over her cheek, down her throat. Her body was on fire, everything in her hot and alive. She was panting as he worked the buttons of her shirt, kissing each newly exposed inch as he went. Cool air brushed her skin damp from his mouth as he made his way down. And then, even in her desire-induced haze, she remembered. “Wait.” But she was too late. His task complete, he sat back and spread the fabric open, eyes locked on what he’d revealed. And the hot blood pounding through her veins turned cold.

Chapter 20 “Jesus.” It was all he could say, and even that came out as a shocked whisper as he stared at Hannah’s body. Scars, too many to count. Some angry and purple, others white and thin. Just below the breasts he’d touched, across her stomach he’d revealed. Patterns and groupings, vicious and savage. An accident? An animal attack? His mind struggled to make sense of it. Had she been in the car with her parents? Hannah just lay there, her breath coming hard and fast. A part of his brain was telling him what he didn’t want to accept. That they were deliberate. That this had been no accident. When he finally met her eyes, they were filled with so much fear and hurt, his stomach turned. Her fingers shook as she drew

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the shirt together and eased out from under him. Too shocked to stop her, he watched her as if in slow motion while his mind still struggled to catch up. She moved across the room, her steps slow and shaky, until she stopped at the windows. He swallowed hard past the rock in his throat and took a step toward her. “Hannah?” She lifted a trembling hand. “Don’t.” His mind was blank and full and reeling all at once. Someone did this to her. Someone hurt her. He’d thought that before. For five years he’d dealt with and lived with this same thought about someone else. It had tormented him. Driven him to the brink of insanity. Silence weighed in the room for what seemed like an eternity. “What…?” He didn’t even know what to ask. He wanted to know, but he didn’t. “Hannah. Please.”

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She stared silently out at the woods for so long he didn’t think she would answer. When she did, her voice was too thin, too far away. “I was fourteen.” Stephen moved until he stood a few feet from her and to the side. He studied her face, waited. “He took me to a basement. It was always dark, dark and black unless he turned on the lights, and then it was blinding. “He was a scientist, he said. There were things he had to know, tests he had to do. A bat. A bowling ball.” She reeled off facts like she was talking about someone else even as her hand closed over her forearm. Cheeks pale, eyes wide, staring into the innocent woods but seeing something horrible. He didn’t want her to see it. Didn’t want her there, not even in her mind. “He cut me. Glass. Razors. Knives. Always knives.”

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The words crawled over his skin like acid, the images she created slammed into his heart until he couldn’t breathe. “Stop.” He took a step toward her. “There was so much blood. I was wet with it.” His breath hitched. “Stop.” “I tried not to scream, but it hurt so much. I—” “Hannah, stop.” “I tried, but I— There was so much blood.” Her voice grew high-pitched and panicked. A war raged inside him, choked him until he couldn’t take it anymore and he took her by the arms. “Just stop! For God’s sake, stop!” Her pale face jerked to his and for seconds she seemed to look right through him. She blinked and the look in her eyes changed. Confusion. Anger. Pain. How could this have happened? How could this kind of evil touch

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a girl who was nothing but good and light? He dropped his hand; his mouth was so dry he couldn’t speak. “I want you to go.” Her voice was flat, emotionless. “Hannah.” “I want you to go now.” “Hannah.” “Just go!” It burst out of her and she stumbled away from the hand he offered, grabbed his shirt off the floor, and flung it at him. “Get out!” His heart was being torn open to the point he literally expected to see blood. But there was no blood and his shirt hit him in the face. Her small, ice-cold hands hit his bare chest. He opened his mouth to speak. Tried again. Unable to reach the words locked behind the lump growing in his throat. One last look at her tortured face, and he opened the

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door. He wasn’t even off the porch before he heard it slam behind him. — Time skipped in Stephen’s mind. His hand opening the cabin door. Kick-starting his motorcycle. He hadn’t gone home, just drove and drove, pushing the machine between his legs to the limit, peeling around turns and daring the pavement to touch him. Faster and faster like maybe he could get away, and if he flew right off the road, all the better. He’d been here before. Desperate to block out another person’s suffering. Ready for death or whatever punishment God wanted to dole out and thinking, Bring it. For once in my fucking life let me be the one to feel the pain. At some point, he ended up in his office, alone and in the dark. Maybe his subconscious slipping back to all the hours and days

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and years he’d medicated himself with work. The time he’d turned to Trace to save him, but now? Now he just sat, staring at nothing. Doing nothing. Every word replayed until he was nauseous. Every image brought the liquidy acid up his throat. Hannah and his fiancée blended together in his mind until he thought he would go insane. The graphic crime-scene photos of her dead body on their apartment floor. The light tan carpet soaked with her blood. The stabs and slashes that left her flesh gaping in too many places to survive. Day after day, he’d sat in the courtroom and looked at all of it. Ingested it. Never letting his eyes waver for even a second. Listening to the prosecution lay out the case in gory detail. He made himself look. Made himself hear every word like he owed it to her. Like that would somehow put him there with her,

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naked on the floor, swimming in blood. His punishment for not being there before. Her ashen face swollen and disfigured where they’d beaten her. Her white-blond hair dark with dried blood. Her legs left spread to show where she’d been ravaged and torn. And the ring he’d given her, gone, along with the finger she’d worn it on. And she’d endured it all alone. But Hannah had endured alone too, had been reliving it and breathing it right in front of him. And he’d done nothing. He’d left. Everything he hated rushed back. The guilt. The loss of control. The drinking. And yeah, he wanted a fucking drink. From the courtroom, to Hannah. Back and forth, over and over, the images crashed together like a horrific storm. Blood on both of them. The need to save both of them. But he hadn’t saved either. —

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It was dark, Stephen had been gone for hours. And for hours she’d sat on the couch staring at nothing. She should eat. Shower. Trying hard not to feel anything, she pulled herself up and went into the bathroom, intent on washing off everything of that day. Everything of Stephen. His scent lingered on her skin, and her stomach twisted with what she’d let happen. How close she’d gotten, everything she’d told him. She’d opened her mouth and it had all poured out like a vicious flood. So caught up in all that was him, she hadn’t been thinking at all. Had forgotten the bone-deep fear that he would look at her and reject her. A whimper escaped and she pressed her hand over her mouth. The look on his face, the horror in his eyes, sickened and not wanting to hear it. She stripped off her clothes in front of the mirror and forced herself to look at the body staring back. It could have belonged to someone else, she felt so

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far removed from what she was seeing. She traced a finger over the lines on her stomach. A broken body no man would ever want to touch. Sad, blank eyes stared back at her. So different from the bright eyes of a few weeks ago. Twelve years’ worth of pain and shame and embarrassment hit her like a fall from a skyscraper. That’s how it felt. Like falling from a great height with nothing to catch her but the unforgiving sidewalk. The bite of Stephen’s rejection was strong and sure. She wanted to break something, like her torturer had wanted to break her. Had broken her. With a primal scream, she grabbed the ceramic toothbrush holder and smashed it against the mirror, unleashing all her pain and fury and heartbreak. A spiderweb of cracks appeared, mimicking the lines in her skin. She hit it again and again, until a sting and a line of blood sliding down her arm made her stop. The ceramic

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lay in pieces, bright red drops hit the white sink bowl. She stared a few seconds, then, naked and empty, she slid to the floor, the wall cool along her back, until she hit bottom. And without even bothering to wash off the blood, she cried.

Chapter 21 Hannah bolted awake Monday morning, heart racing, body shivering from a chill brought by clinging memories, not cold. She noted each and every object around her room, a trick she’d been taught to ground herself in reality. The horse figurine on the dresser. A farm print on the log wall above it. She’d told Mia she didn’t remembered more. That was the truth. She couldn’t remember more when she remembered everything. Blessing or curse, it mostly only came to her in dreams. But dreams came at night, in the dark. Alone. Sharp, defined, and in stark color. Unimaginable pain. The metallic scent of her own blood. The taste of it in her mouth and the sound of it dripping onto the floor along with the feeling her skin was being peeled from

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her bones. And the worst, the squeak of the door that told her he was coming. Not knowing what he would do next and the white-hot pain when she jerked away from his touch. She shuddered, the past so vivid she could still feel it. Still hear her own screams. And the silence, when it was so bad she couldn’t even do that. When she prayed for it to end. Wrapping her arms tighter around her knees, she rocked, imagined Stephen’s arms around her, protecting her. But he wasn’t and wouldn’t be, so instead she tried to count the colorful shapes of the quilt that lay in a heap on the floor. Her eyes made another pass around the room and the nightmare loosened its grip. She rose and dressed, knowing the thing that would calm her most was in the pasture. The silver light of dawn illuminated the familiar path to the barn. This was the place that had drawn her out of the darkest corners of her mind until she’d decided she

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would live again. That she could and even wanted to. Now she would spend her life bringing other children out of the dark. Give them joy and purpose. She’d do it for them and for herself. Today was the day she’d make sure of it. She reached the first turnout paddock and whistled. Winnie raised her head and trotted over. A sudden rush of love and emotion filled her eyes. The palomino followed her along the rail and was waiting at the gate when Hannah came out the back of the barn. She saddled and rode, just the two of them in the quiet of early morning. A gift from her brothers on her eighteenth birthday, Winnie had been a symbol of her healing at a time when a normal girl would have been graduating and spreading her wings. Instead hers had been clipped years earlier and she hadn’t wanted to fly. Or feel or talk or eat. So deep inside herself she’d been numb.

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Now she focused on the rhythm of Winnie’s footsteps, noted each type of tree she passed and the deer prints left in the dewy grass. She rocked in the saddle, desperate for comfort, and willed it all to crowd out the memories as it had so many times. Tried to forget what it felt like to have Stephen touch her, look at her with desire. Forgot what it had felt like to think Stephen might actually…what? Want her? Love her? It was all too fresh to block out. Her past all sharp and new from the nightmare, memories of Stephen too strong. Even as she rode and talked to Winnie, she felt strangely disconnected from the world as if she weren’t really there. The sun was fully up by the time she returned and Lexie was already busy mucking stalls. “Hey, girl. Early ride?” “Yep.” Hannah turned with the saddle to hide her splotchy face and swollen eyes. “I

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have a meeting in the city. Should be back by lunch.” “All right,” Lexie answered and went about her chores. She felt a twinge of guilt at not telling Lexie what was going on, but decided against it. In a few hours, it would no longer be an issue. She hoped. Exhausted instead of energized, she barely felt the hot water from the shower. Dressed and brushed her hair like she was in a fog. She had the deed to the property in the Bradleys’ name and the handwritten letter. Double-checking the downtown address one last time, she grabbed the envelope on the counter and started out. Driving was a bad time for the mind to wander and analyze. She flipped through radio stations, but the more she tried to hold off the past, the harder the memories came, bombarding her until her head pounded with the old questions. How could she not have

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seen it? What was wrong with her that she couldn’t see the core of people? Had there been signs someone else would have seen? Would they have felt a warning of evil before it was too late? A car honked and she brought her eyes up to the green light. Was she supposed to turn here? Keep going straight? With a line of cars behind her, she didn’t have time to sit and think about it. Twenty-one hundred Central Avenue South. She repeated the address in her mind. Her chest felt tight, squeezed. She turned right and right again, but instead of circling back, she hit a one-way street. The car was suddenly too small, closing in around her like a box. Were the numbers going up or down? A glance at the clock told her she had less than fifteen minutes. Still had to park, and walk. She strained to read the street signs, but they passed in a blur. Buchannon?

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Buckman? She didn’t recognize either. Her upper lip grew damp and she cranked up the air. She couldn’t be late. She couldn’t lose this land. But she saw his eyes, his hands. An ice pick. A blade. The smells. The pain. Please don’t touch me. Don’t touch me! She turned again and a sharp ringing split her ears. Tiny starbursts on black flashed in her vision. Her heart raced and she struggled to take a deep breath. No. She was fine, it was just anxiety. She could breathe. Ten minutes. She shouldn’t be going over a river. Lost. She was lost. Never going to make it in time. She slowed, made a U-turn, and as she did the buildings on her right wavered in and out of focus, while the ones on the left were sharp, overly defined. Sweat dripped between her breasts at the same time she had the sensation of ice-cold liquid dripping through her veins.

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Forcing her eyes straight ahead, she drove through two more lights. Her chest hurt, her insides were shaking apart. She knew what to do. Tried to slow it down, take deep breaths. Mia. Where was Mia’s office? It felt like she was moving too fast, but cars flew past on either side. She pulled off and through a parking lot. Stopped in front of a building she recognized. Even walking felt strange, like there was nothing solid under her feet. Her hand skimmed along the cool brick of the hallway. Through a door. The receptionist counter wavered and there was nothing to hold on to. “I need to see the doctor.” “Your name?” Another door, the knob cold in her hand. “Miss, you can’t go back there.” “No, I can’t. I need—”

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The narrow hallway stretched out in front of her longer and longer. Nothing to hold on to. “Hannah?” Mia, but she couldn’t get to her. Moving, but not getting closer. Disconnected. She couldn’t breathe. “Call 911.” Mia’s voice, but it felt like a dream. “Hannah. Hold my hand. Breathe.” “I can’t breathe.”

Chapter 22 “I’m okay, Nick. Don’t look so worried.” Her brother sat in a chair beside her in a partitioned-off section of the ER. Elbows on his knees, head down, just as she’d seen him in too many hospitals, too many times before. And she was sorry for it. “I’m not.” A smile pulled at her lips. “It’s a sin to lie.” He sighed. “Does this have anything to do with the other night?” “No.” Nick had stopped by hours after Stephen left. Hours after she broke the mirror. And now she was the liar. “You can talk to me, you know. If you’re having a hard time or…whatever.” “Yeah? Like I could talk to you about getting my period? Or buying tampons?”

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Nick’s face screwed up at the memory and the tension eased. “Really. I’m fine. I was on my way to the meeting with the city this morning and—” “What meeting?” Well, shit. “Something about the property I needed to take care of. Anyway, I got lost and I guess I got upset. But I’m fine now. I want to go home.” He’d heard that last bit before. At least this time she wasn’t begging and crying after weeks, months, of being confined to a hospital room. “Okay.” He stood, patted her hand awkwardly. “I’ll get the doctor.” “Nick?” He stopped and turned at the door. “Yeah?” “Please don’t worry.” He gave the tiniest nod and left the room.

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Damn it. Just when she decided to step up and step out on her own, and now her brothers would be more worried than ever. One minute she’d been noting street signs and the next…she’d just lost it. Her heart rate was fine now, the chill gone. She knew what had happened, the why and the how, but it didn’t make her feel less stupid. Didn’t make her less the weak little sister to four ultrastrong brothers. The heavy door cracked open and Mia’s face filled the gap. “Hey. How’s the patient?” “Good.” “Rough day, huh.” Mia sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand, so much more at ease than Nick had been. “I guess you know you had a severe panic attack.” “Yes.” “That’s not unusual after all you’ve been through. Honestly, I’m surprised it hasn’t happened before.”

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Hannah rolled the edge of the scratchy sheet between her fingers and Mia let out a heavy sigh over the silence. “It has happened before. Why didn’t you tell me?” “I thought I was just having a moment. Doesn’t everyone have moments?” She made a weak attempt at a smile. Mia gave her a look that said, You know better. “I haven’t had one since I’ve been seeing you. Haven’t had a bad one in several years.” “Do you have any idea what brought it on?” “I had a nightmare.” Hours after I spilled my guts to a man I thought might mean something. The hospital door flew open and Nick stepped through like a dark storm. “No one knows where the damn doctor is. But as soon as I—”

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Her brother froze, drew in a sharp breath like he’d been punched in the stomach, and let it out on one word. “Mia.” And it just got worse. As far as she knew, Nick and Mia hadn’t seen each other in ten years. Another thing that had ended because of her. — Stephen barely registered the noise coming from outside his office door as the reports he stared at blurred. Seconds later it came through his office. Nick Walker, looking like a man going into the ring. “What the hell did you do to my sister?” Stephen stood and came around his desk. “What are you talking about?” “First I find her crying her eyes out and today she ends up in the hospital freaked out of her fucking mind!” Nick gave him a two-

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handed shove and his voice dropped to a growl. “What the hell did you do?” His stomach tightened painfully and a million possibilities raced through his mind. “She’s in the hospital? Where?” “Like I’d tell you.” Matt strode calmly into Stephen’s office, past his concerned admin, hovering at the threshold. “Problem?” “I’m warning you,” Nick said, ignoring Matt and stabbing a finger at his chest. Matt uncrossed his arms and shifted closer. “No.” Stephen held up his hand against Matt’s intervention. He’d earned the man’s anger. Nick closed his hands into fists and stepped back, looking at Stephen like he was too disgusting to touch. He knew Hannah was upset, had been racking his brain all night and day for what

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he could say to make up for not saying a damn thing when he should have, but…she was in the hospital? “What happened?” “None of your fucking business. She’s fine, she’s home. And she sure as hell doesn’t need you. Stay the hell away from my sister,” Nick spat, and stormed out of the office the same way he’d come in. A moment of silence passed as the tension in the room dropped a notch. “Another brother?” Matt asked, closing the door. “Yeah.” “Damn, dude. How many brothers does this girl have?” “Four.” “Well, you’re halfway through. You planning on pissing them off one by one?” Stephen didn’t answer, just moved to the wet bar and poured himself a drink. He’d

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fought it, kept the minibar in here just to prove he could fight it. But he was done. “Little early, isn’t it?” “Nope.” Stephen raised the glass. “Little late, maybe.” He looked into his glass then stared out at the sky and pictured Hannah. She’d been so pale, so clammy when he’d touched her before she threw him off. He’d wanted to stop her pain, comfort her. But his feet hadn’t moved. The right words hadn’t come out. And he’d wanted to kill someone. Still did. That monster he’d discovered inside himself reared its head. Stephen spun and heaved the glass across the room. It shattered and the amber liquid dripped down the floor-to-ceiling windows. He was as helpless to stop it as he’d been at stopping Hannah’s tears. Exhausted, he leaned back against his desk, hands on his thighs.

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Matt didn’t react other than to stand beside him and clap a hand on the back of his neck. He gave a squeeze of support. “Talk to me, man.” Stephen’s chest felt too tight. His eyes and nose burned. The memories he wanted to drink away only crystallized. He’d never told anyone about the stupid fight he’d had with his fiancée just before she was murdered. Wasn’t sure why he felt the need to now. Stephen stared at his feet, at Matt’s right next to them, and shook his head as the past invaded the present. “She didn’t want me to go to Brian’s bachelor party. She didn’t say it right out, that wasn’t her way, but I was already traveling so much, and…I snapped at her. I don’t know why, and we fought. I left without even saying I loved her.” He’d called her the next day to apologize. And continued calling, thinking maybe she

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was ignoring him, maybe she was more pissed than he’d thought. But when his phone finally rang, it was his dad. He needed to come home. Now. Those four hours on a flight from Vegas to Virginia were the longest of his life. He’d soon found out there would be longer. Much longer. “I didn’t feel anything. No sense something was wrong. No sense she was gone. Nothing.” He looked up at his brother. “How could I not feel something?” Matt didn’t answer. There was no answer. Not then, and not now. The only thing clear to him was that someone was going to die. And he was going to kill them. He’d snapped in the courtroom, jumped the rail and gotten to one of them. Hands around his neck, squeezing, finally doing what he’d dreamed of. He’d felt the blows

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from the guards, the baton on his back and head. Heard the shouts, his mother crying. None of it mattered except the bulging eyes of that piece of shit who’d murdered the woman he’d loved. He wanted to see his fear. Wanted to feel the life drain out of him. To hell with the consequences. To hell with God and his laws. “I wanted to kill him.” “But you didn’t.” “Only because you stopped me.” Because Matt was the only one in that room who could have stopped him. He’d tackled him, pried him off. And there’d been many hours, sitting in the dark, drink in hand, when he’d hated his brother for that. “I would have killed him with my bare hands without one ounce of remorse. It’s near enough the same thing.” “No. It isn’t at all the same thing.” Matt’s eyes met his in a level stare. “I’ve killed.”

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“But you didn’t get any joy from it.” “God bless, Stephen, you haven’t killed anyone!” Matt raised his hands like he wanted to shake him. “But I want to, and the difference is a very thin line.” “A line I think many people walk. The woman you loved was hacked to pieces, for God’s sake. Hell, I wanted to kill him.” “But do you still? Do you dream of it? Spend hours imagining how you would do it? Do you practically get hard fantasizing about torturing someone?” His family probably thought he’d turned to alcohol out of grief, or so he wouldn’t think about the crime-scene photos. They’d be wrong. He drank until he passed out to shut his mind off against his own depraved thoughts, so graphic, so perverted, no Hollywood horror could ever come close. He turned to stare out the glass at nothing. “It almost destroyed me before.”

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And what had finally begun to dim had been revived by Hannah. “Fuck, Matt. If you could have seen her face, describing the things he did to her.” “Who? Hannah?” Stephen nodded. He’d been flattened. Crushed. Tossed back to his absolute darkest days. But at the same time he was there, in the present with Hannah. “It was bad. So bad I could see it. The blood on her body, the slashes. It was so much like before, only worse, more. She told me and I left.” He looked down at his hands. Seeing her like that, hearing the words, broke him apart inside just when he was starting to feel not broken. “I don’t know if I can do this again.” “It’s not again. Hannah is alive. And I have a feeling she needs you as much as you need her.” He doubted that very much.

Chapter 23 The next day Hannah found the government building easily. With a clear head and new resolve, she parked and circled through the rotating glass. After a brief exchange at reception, she was told to wait. Hannah sat in a blue- and cream-upholstered seat and looked out the window at the city buildings. She hated that she wondered if Stephen’s office was nearby. Hated that she still thought of him at all. But she did. And as she’d replayed that day, repeatedly recalled the look in his eyes, she knew it wasn’t all his fault. She’d seen herself, after all, and it wasn’t pretty. “Ms. Walker, Mr. Goodwin will see you now.”

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Armed with letters from doctors praising her work and pictures of the children she helped, she followed the woman down a long, windowless hallway. Mr. Goodwin didn’t rise from his desk when she entered. In fact, he barely looked up from his computer, only grunting an acknowledgment when his secretary announced her presence. She forced herself to smile at the top of his balding head. “I’m here to talk to you about my farm on Highway Thirty-two.” Heart pounding, Hannah made her case. Her nerves ran wild and so did all her carefully planned words. She went out of order, spoke too fast. But she laid out the pictures she’d brought. Children standing for the first time, walking when they’d been told they never would. The councilman gave them no more than a careless glance. “While I sympathize, Ms. Walker, I’m afraid the land just isn’t yours.”

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“But I have this letter from the original owner.” She pulled it out. “That’s right. You have a letter. A letter is not a will. There was no passage of ownership. No living relatives of the deceased. No legally certified document.” “Then why was I told to come down here? Why send me the letter saying I could state my case?” He gave her a long look. “That was before we had all salient information. I apologize for your inconvenience.” Without so much as a shrug, he reached across his desk and pushed a button. “Eileen, see Ms. Walker out, please.” Five minutes later, she left the building the same way she’d come in, but where she’d been full of hope a short time ago, she was now completely deflated. Since the first day she’d gotten the letter, she hadn’t believed it. Standing in the safety of the barn,

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surrounded by horses and familiar scents, the possibility hadn’t seemed real to her. Surrounded by brick and glass and the power of politicians, it was much easier. They could take it. They were taking it. Tears gathered and fell as she drove ten minutes to an outdoor shopping mall. She didn’t much feel like meeting Mia for lunch, but it was too late to cancel now. Plus, if she did, Mia would be doubly concerned. She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. Think it through, be positive. She reached back to years of counseling. She could get a job as a regular physical therapist, get an apartment, or, God forbid, live with her brothers—they’d never let her be homeless. If she could afford to board her horses somewhere else, if she worked awhile and saved up…then maybe. But just boarding and caring for Winnie would be costly.

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She blinked back a new round of tears thinking of the young faces she would have to tell, the disappointment she’d dole out. Arriving, she parked, made sure she didn’t look weepy, and got out. It was a nice area complete with coffee shops and a café, small tables and cherry trees dotting the brick walkway. She spotted Mia midway down, under the shade of tiny pink blossoms. Before she reached the small iron table, two women stopped beside it. As she got closer, she smiled, trying to hide her surprise. “Hi, Abby. Hi, Lizzy.” “You know each other?” Mia asked. “The party I went to,” she answered, feeling the burn in her cheeks. She had nothing to be embarrassed about. Except she’d been rejected by the same man twice in less than two weeks. But maybe they didn’t know. “Stephen’s my brother,” Lizzy said, to Mia’s further confusion.

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“And my brother-in-law.” “Oh. I didn’t realize.” Mia looked at Hannah. “Lizzy and I belong to several of the same psychiatric organizations.” “Oh, well, why don’t you join us?” Hannah invited. “Yes. Sit.” Mia moved her bag from the fourth seat. They dropped purses and scooted chairs around, then gave the young server their orders. “So, how do you two know each other?” Abby asked, also making connections. Hannah froze and before she had to say she was a patient, Mia answered. “I’ve known Hannah for years. I…dated her brother. Nick.” Hannah caught the flash of sadness even though Mia covered it well. “Huh,” Lizzy said. “Small world.” Both women clearly got the past tense on dated and dropped it there.

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“Hannah was so sweet to have Gracie out to ride horses.” Abby smiled across the table. “You know, she hasn’t stopped talking about it since.” “Of course. I can always find some time. She’s such a sweetie, but I have to tell you, I might not be there much longer.” The reality of the words stung. There was obvious surprise and she explained about the land and the letter, giving a recap of her recent meeting. “That’s a shame. What do they want to do with it?” Abby thanked the server and lifted her glass. “I don’t know. Sell it, I assume.” Mia glanced up, stirring in her sweetener. “Can you work with the kids somewhere else?” “I’m looking into it.” “Well, I was going to ask you if you had a spot for lessons for Gracie. Annie wants to

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come too, and you’d definitely let me pay you.” “That’s an idea,” Lizzy said. “Maybe you could offset the costs of a new place by giving lessons.” “Maybe, but no amount of lessons would add up to what I’d need to buy the land outright.” “You could fight it,” Mia offered. She could try. But lawyers cost money and what the man said made sense. It hadn’t been left to her, not legally. The truth hurt. The server appeared with their lunch and they paused to comment on one another’s orders. Lizzy sipped her tea, a thoughtful expression on her pretty face. “What if you could somehow persuade the city not to take it?” “And just let me use it for free? I don’t know. I showed him letters, pictures. He barely looked.”

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“Maybe he’s not the one who needs to see,” Lizzy said. “You mean take it to someone else?” “No, I mean, what if everyone saw? Public opinion can be a powerful motivator for politicians. I mean, what is the government doing? Just sitting around waiting for people to die so that they can snatch up property?” Abby paused with her fork in the air. “What if you did something like, I don’t know…an awareness day or something?” “Yes!” Mia pointed at Abby. “Make it big. Show off the horses and your patients, open it up to the public for the day. It’s not a piece of property just sitting there. It’s vital, providing a service to this area.” A bit of hope niggled in. “Everything’s political, right?” Lizzy said, picking up steam. “They definitely don’t want to look bad.”

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“That’s true,” Abby added. “What if we got the media out there, really got the city to rally? People love kid causes. I actually know a local reporter, a friend from college.” Hannah didn’t miss the we. That alone made her feel like smiling. Lizzy cocked her head. “You know who we should be asking about this stuff? Stephen. He knows all there is to know about property laws and whatever.” She gestured with her hand. The air backed up in her lungs at his name. “And maybe Matt could help,” Abby added. “He knows real estate, but Lizzy’s right, Stephen is the one who knows the value of having undeveloped land. I’m sure he’d talk to some people for you.” She worked to swallow the bite already in her mouth. Yeah. He’d offered and she’d said no. Stephen with his carved face and heartstopping brown eyes. She’d felt something.

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Thought he did too. She pushed chicken salad around her plate. “How is he?” “Stephen? Oh, he’s good, I guess. I haven’t seen him much.” Lizzy grinned, and stabbed a piece of fruit. “I thought you would have seen him. He seemed pretty hot to take you home Sunday.” “No. I haven’t seen him since then.” Mia’s eyes caught hers, full of sympathy. They’d already spoken about Stephen seeing her scars and everything that happened after. As usual, Mia had tried to put a positive spin on it. Look at it as personal growth instead of a stumble back. She’d also been the one to point out that Hannah didn’t actually know what Stephen had been thinking when she’d made him leave. Lizzy let out an exasperated huff. “What’s my idiot brother done now?” “Nothing.” She shook her head and pretended to drink.

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“You know men don’t always say what they mean. Sometimes even say the opposite in addition to acting really stupid. Especially my idiot brothers. No offense, Abby.” “None taken,” Abby said with a smile. “It’s nothing, really. I just wondered how he was, that’s all.” After she’d told him her gory tale and then screamed at him to get out. Mia hadn’t held back on pointing that out too. They finished eating, tossed around more ideas about building public support. Twenty minutes passed and the women had practically the entire thing planned. It just might work, and she wasn’t in it alone. She’d wanted to handle it herself but this felt different. Felt like friends helping friends, not family obligated to deal with her issues. Lizzy walked with her since they were parked near each other. “That was fun. It’s good for my brain to talk to people over five.”

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Hannah smiled and unlocked her doors, but instead of continuing to her own car, Lizzy paused. “I probably shouldn’t say anything, though my brothers all expect me to butt in anyway, so I might as well. Stephen’s been…” She stared across the parking lot like she was debating what to say. “He’s been through a lot. He’s had some really tough years, but I’ve seen a change in him in the last few weeks.” She brought her brown eyes back to Hannah’s. “Since you. So if you care about him at all, give him a chance.” If she cared about him? She was way past caring. But she nodded, mumbled, “Okay,” and got in her car. And give him a chance to what? She’d been broken by a man physically. Stephen could crush her heart into a million pieces.

Chapter 24 Stephen raised his foot, then lowered it and took a step back. Indecisive was not his middle name. Not a word even remotely associated with him. But in this moment, standing at the bottom of the steps leading to Hannah’s front door, that’s all he was. The last time he’d been here she hadn’t wanted him anywhere near her and for good reason. He held little hope she’d want him here now. But he couldn’t stay away. He’d made it up the first two steps when the door opened. The light from inside framed Hannah against the dark night like a halo. She wore pajama bottoms and a longsleeved T-shirt—thin, no bra. His mouth went dry and he wet his lips, tried to swallow. “Hey.” She didn’t reply to his brilliant greeting.

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He jerked his hands from his pockets, ran them through his hair, and stuck them back. “I wanted to talk to you. I need to talk to you.” He knew she thought it was the scars, and that whole, it’s not you, it’s me thing was rarely successful. But that’s all he had because it was him. He wouldn’t leave until he’d convinced her of that. They stared at each other, she with narrowed eyes as if trying to read his intentions, and he with the hot feeling he always got when he looked at her. She seemed different. Tired, or maybe just resigned to the fact that he was an ass. But she opened the door wider and stepped back into the space. His heart pounded as he climbed the remaining step and closed the door. When he turned, she was at the sink, her back to him. Her hair was piled on her head in a messy bun. He missed touching it. Smelling it. Missed seeing her smile and kissing her lips.

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He missed her. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” “I’m fine.” She continued drying a bowl and placed it upside on a towel. “You were in the hospital.” Her body stilled. “Who told you that?” “Nick.” She sighed and he felt her unease from across the quiet room, saw her shoulders drop. She hadn’t wanted him to know. She finished her task, set a dried glass on the counter, and unplugged the sink to drain. When she turned around he was hit hard, as always. So beautiful, delicate almost, but her eyes met his, bold and brave. “I had an anxiety attack. It passed and now I’m fine.” So bad she had to go to the hospital? And fine? The shadows under her eyes said something different. “I don’t know what to say. No.” He blew out a shaky breath and scrubbed both hands over his face. “That’s

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not true. I know a lot of things to say and none of them are right. None of them are enough.” “You don’t have to say anything.” “Yes. I do. I just…” He shook his head, searching for the right words. When he looked up, saw the hurt in her eyes even through the layers she’d tried to pull over it, he gave up on words. He crossed the room, took her face in his hands because he couldn’t be in the same room with her and not touch her. He brushed his thumbs over the bruises under her eyes. Their eyes held, faces just inches apart. “You look tired.” “I haven’t been sleeping well.” Her hands came up to circle his wrists and she stared right into him. “I was worried about you.” And just like that she knocked him on his ass again. He dropped his forehead to hers and took a long, steadying breath. “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry. When I heard everything

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that had happened to you, I…” He straightened but didn’t meet her gaze. “I went crazy.” “Ha.” She gave a derisive laugh. “I think it’s obvious I’m the one who’s crazy.” “No you’re not.” He brought his eyes back to hers and his fingers tightened in her hair. “You’re the bravest, strongest, most amazing person I’ve ever known and…I didn’t handle it well. I don’t…handle things well. Not for the past few years anyway. I— Shit, this is hard.” But he would do it. “Come sit.” He took her by the hand, led her to the couch, and tugged until she was in his lap. Just having her in his arms loosened the tightness in his chest and he took his first full breath in days. He pulled her back against him and cleared his throat, gathering himself to say what he rarely said. “I was engaged a few years ago. Five. She was killed. Murdered.”

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He adjusted Hannah in his lap before going on. “It was two weeks before the wedding and I wasn’t there. She went out for a drink with friends and some guys followed her home, forced her inside.” He told her all of it, poured it out like a dam had burst. She didn’t flinch, didn’t gasp or make him pull back from a single detail. He was both awed and comforted by her strength, by Hannah, who was nothing but good, yet strong enough to face evil and live through it. Better than he had. But he didn’t tell her that, how not okay he was. Couldn’t tell her that her nightmares were probably pretty close to his fantasies. That the only way he could cope with the agony of that event was to imagine himself doing ten times worse to the perpetrators. His hand fisted on the arm of the couch so tightly it shook.

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Hannah covered it with her own, immediately easing him. He didn’t deserve her. He should leave this house right now and never look back. Never touch her again. But instead he wrapped his arms around her even tighter. “I’m sorry, baby. I should have stayed. I should have made it better instead of worse. It’s not that I didn’t want to hear it, that I wanted you to stop. I wanted it to stop. I wanted what had happened to you to stop and—” “It’s okay.” No, but it was getting there. And the knot that was his entire body began to loosen. The weight that had crushed him for days lessened. “Hannah, it wasn’t about the scars. It was never about that.” He held her when she would have pulled away. “Look at me.” She obeyed, but he wasn’t sure she was seeing him, from the way her eyes swam with tears. “Baby. You’re breaking my heart.” He kissed

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her cheek as one escaped. “I was shocked, yes. More that someone had hurt you.” When she remained quiet, he brushed his lips across her temple, her cheek, and was well on his way to her lips, when she pulled back. “I can’t.” She looked down at her hands folded tightly in her lap. “I can barely be touched.” “I disagree.” He tipped her head back with a finger under her chin, pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “I’ve touched you.” He nibbled at the bottom, then the top and the corners, took his time persuading and convincing. “I love your mouth. Could get lost in it for days. Your lips, the taste of you on my tongue.” She parted her lips, maybe for a breath, maybe to say something, but he took the opening she’d given. Gave her no chance to pull away from him because he needed to kiss her more than he needed his next breath. Deep and slow, he kissed her for

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everything she’d been through. Every way she’d been hurt and sad and afraid. “You’re so damn beau—” “Don’t.” Her fingers flew to his lips. “Just…don’t.” “Hannah.” He stared into her eyes and it killed him that she didn’t see it. She leaned against his chest and he touched his lips to the top of her head. He’d hold her all night if she’d let him, just like this. Like he should have done days ago. But he hadn’t held her, he’d left. Made it worse? “Was it my fault?” he asked softly. “The anxiety attack?” “No. I might have been thinking about it more but…I have dreams. Nightmares.” God. Knowing his own, he couldn’t imagine the terror she must face in her sleep. “Would it help if I stayed?” “I don’t know.”

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She’d barely gotten the words out when he stood with her in his arms. “What are you doing?” “Finding out.” He walked the short distance to her bedroom, laid her on the bed, and joined her so they were facing each other. “What are you going to do?” “Lie beside you. Recite boring numbers until you fall asleep.” Her lips curved at that. “And,” he added seriously, “if you have a nightmare, I’ll be right here.” He pulled up the quilt and got comfortable. “One potato, two potato, three potato, four…” She made an obnoxious snoring noise that got her a swat on the bottom. And got him a smile. “You’re right. That is boring. Is that how you made all your money?” “Yep. That and musical chairs.” She smiled again. It always took his breath away, but

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when she smiled because of him? Nothing was better. They were quiet for several minutes, eyes open, close enough for their breath to mingle. “You have a lot of night-lights.” “I know.” She glanced around her room. “Can you sleep? Want me to unplug some?” He noticed she said some, not all. Even with him here, she didn’t want to be completely in the dark. “No.” He swept her hair back. “I like seeing your face.” She laid her cool, soft hand against his neck. “I like seeing yours too. You really are gorgeous. Though I’m sure you know that.” She traced a finger over his brow, his jawline, down his nose. He snapped at the finger circling his lips and made her squeal. “On second thought, you look like a duck.” “Very funny. Maybe I’ll recite some baseball stats.” He tugged until she snuggled

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down with her head on his chest. She smelled like freshly washed hair and body wash, scented and girlie. Her small hand covered his thundering heart. His bigger one skimmed down her back, dipping at her waist, over her hip and up again. Even that simple touch had him on fire. He’d need those stats before the night was over. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.” She spoke into the quiet and his hand stilled. “I should have. That wasn’t fair, but I…” “If you thought I wouldn’t want you, you’re wrong.” It killed him that she’d thought that. That she’d been thinking it the whole time. The issue was more the truth she didn’t know about him. The stain and ugliness of his soul. “Hannah, I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you. I still want you.” And if he pulled her a little closer, she’d feel exactly how much. Before he could force himself to

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create some space between them, she lifted her face and pressed her lips to his. It was a soft meeting, a kiss so profound it brought tears to his eyes. Because she mattered. Everything about her, everything about being near her mattered, when he hadn’t wanted anything to matter for so long. Wasn’t entirely sure he did now. Because he wasn’t good for her and she was undoubtedly smart enough to know that. So he meant to keep it there, just a kiss, until she arched into his chest. His sweet, tentative Hannah. She deepened the kiss, rubbed her body against his. He shifted so that his leg eased between hers and the lines he’d drawn for himself went gray and fuzzy. With the blood pulsing in his ears, his hand swept under her shirt. She wound her tongue around his, tugged at his hair until he groaned. And when he covered her breast with his hand, molded his fingers around it, the air left his lungs. His senses tumbled into

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overload with her nipple grazing his palm and her skin sliding under his lips. “Let me touch you.” He whispered it against her lips. “I need to touch you.” Had to. Which made no sense because he was already touching her, but now that he’d started, it wasn’t nearly enough. He rolled and braced himself above her, slid her shirt up until those perfect breasts were exposed. Until he could make out her shape and the dark pebbled peaks standing up for his attention. In the glow of four night-lights he saw Hannah’s eyes wide on his. So innocent she made him feel innocent too, like he could be someone else when he was with her. He dipped his head and circled one breast with the tip of his tongue, spiraling inward while his fingers caressed the other. So damn perfect. And he would show her in a million ways she was beautiful.

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Her breath came faster and she arched into his mouth. He smoothed a hand down between her legs and cupped her through her pajamas. Her breath caught. “Stephen.” “Trust me.” He brought his mouth back to hers, kissed her deeply, and circled the heel of his hand exactly where he knew she needed it most. Coaxing, seducing. When she was moaning into his mouth he stopped. Left her mouth to skim his lips between her breasts, down her stomach. Ran his tongue over skin so soft it could have been silk, never once seeing her scars. Hyperaware, every sense was amplified. Her rapid breathing in the quiet room. His heart drumming. Unsure what else he could give her, but he could give her this. He could show her she was wanted, desired. That she hadn’t been broken in every way. He pulled the pajama pants down her legs, taking the

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panties with them and tossing them to the floor. His heart nearly stopped at the sight before him. Hannah, naked but for a thin Tshirt shoved up above her rising and falling breasts. Gently, he kissed the inside of her thighs, brushed his face over the skin there. When his lips brushed over her center, her hands clenched at her sides. She gasped, jerked away from the onslaught of sensations. “Easy, baby.” He persuaded with his lips and tongue, Hannah’s scent wrapping around him. She was sweet, so sweet, and he brought her to the crest in seconds. Her breath quickened and his head buzzed with the spicy taste of her arousal. His erection strained so painfully against his zipper, he might not live through it. On a sharp inhale, she arched her head back, mouth open in a silent cry. So damn easy, and in the very best way.

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She lay limp and trusting as he pulled her panties up, leaving the pants on the floor. He took his time trailing kisses up her body before settling in next to her. There was a squeeze in his chest at the way her soft body fit against him, the way she curled her arm over his chest. Neither spoke. Nothing needed to be said. He pulled the worn quilt up and over them, pressed his lips to her head. “No dreams tonight.”

Chapter 25 Hannah woke with her bare legs rasping against Stephen’s blue jeans. He’d gotten rid of his shirt sometime during the night, and her cheek rested against his bare chest. The size and heat of a man’s body, new and…incredibly awesome. Her own shirt bunched halfway up her ribs. Everywhere her body touched his was hot. Everywhere it didn’t was cold. Hannah peeked up at his face. His beautiful brown eyes were still closed, a dark shadow covered his jawline. So big and solid and…male. The silky hair on his chest tickled her palm as her fingers explored. Over his flat nipples, then lower to his stomach until his hand clamped down over hers and she squeaked.

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“Did you sleep?” His voice, a low sexy rumble under her ear, vibrated to all the parts he’d touched last night. Touched and tasted. Her face went hot. “Yes.” Better than she could ever remember. Sated, relaxed, and without a single dream, tucked in tight against his body. “Did you?” She shifted her leg over the top of his thigh and he groaned. His arm around her tightened. “Yes.” She moved her leg again and he took the hand he held to his chest and slapped it over her thigh, holding her still. “You have to stop moving.” She felt him growing hard against her other leg, reminding her of what they’d done last night. And what they hadn’t. He’d done everything for her and she’d done virtually nothing. Surely not what a man like Stephen was used to.

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The room was growing lighter, and regardless of all they’d shared, she wasn’t that brave; wasn’t ready to lie here half naked beside him in the daylight. “I should go take a shower.” “One of us should,” he said, sounding pained. With his fingers in her hair, he pulled her back until he could press a quick kiss to her lips. “Out.” He gave her bottom a pat. Safe in the bathroom, she stripped and stepped under the spray of the shower. Her breasts had that pins-and-needles feeling, a combination of hot water and hotter memories. Stephen’s hands and mouth, touching her, kissing her. Her legs spread, his mouth… Lord. She shivered and chills covered her skin, remembering the things he’d done. She could still feel him, driving her over an electrical current until she exploded.

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She cut the water and stepped out, wondering if Stephen would still be there, or would he slip out. Instead she heard not one male voice, but two. Oh, shit. She stuffed her wet arms into a short robe and flew through her bedroom. It was a small house and she could already make out the angry words. “Where’s my sister, McKinney?” Nick’s voice was furious, Stephen’s perfectly pleasant. “I believe Hannah’s in the shower. I can get her if you want.” That did it. Nick pushed his way in. “Hannah!” They both caught sight of her at once. Hair dripping, legs bare. And even from across the room, Stephen’s hot gaze made her tingle. He was barefoot, wearing only jeans, unbuttoned at the top. He looked exactly like a man who’d hastily dressed.

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Nick had a very different reaction. “What the hell?” He stabbed his fingers through his hair. “Get some fucking clothes on.” “Excuse me? It’s my house. You’re the one who barged in.” “Me? You’re in the shower and he’s—” Nick gestured toward her room. “What the fuck, Hannah. What the hell is wrong with you?” The sting of Nick’s words barely sank in before Stephen was in her brother’s face. “Watch yourself. Brother or no brother, you won’t talk to her like that again.” “Please don’t tell me you slept with him.” Stephen grinned at her brother like a wolf, though it did nothing to hide the temper simmering beneath the surface. “Well, there wasn’t a lot of sleeping.” The air crackled with the testosterone of angry men. Nick shoved him back and that was it. Stephen slammed Nick into the wall

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behind them hard enough to rattle pictures and held him in place with a forearm to his throat. Nick twisted, spun, and his fist connected solidly with Stephen’s jaw. It knocked him back a step, but he didn’t go down. “Let’s go,” Stephen said. Nick’s face was as dark and dangerous as she’d ever seen it. “Outside and gladly. I’ve wanted to kick your ass since the first time I saw you.” Another punch had them backed onto the porch. The next took them the last two steps and they landed hard on the ground, where they rolled and grappled. “Stop it!” After several more seconds, they rolled apart, both breathing hard, swiping at lips. Embarrassed, she turned and went inside, a mix of footsteps following. With the robe wrapped tightly around her, she stood at the

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counter as they came in. Both men were scraped and dirty; Nick had a leaf in his hair. Several pine needles hung on Stephen’s chest. Her distress must have been obvious because they looked repentant, their expressions like little boys in trouble. Stephen stepped to her first and she touched the corner of his mouth. “You’re bleeding.” He swiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, shrugged. “Guys fight. It’s what we do.” “Yeah,” Nick agreed from the door, opening and closing his right fist like he was stretching out his fingers. “No harm done. We’re both still standing.” An uncomfortable silence hung around them. “I need to talk to my sister.”

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Stephen wrapped a possessive arm around her shoulder. “I’ll stay as long as Hannah wants me to stay.” Her eyes flicked between them and she caught Nick’s wounded expression like she was choosing the opposing team. “It’s okay. Nick’s right. We should talk.” Plus she couldn’t quite look Stephen in the eye yet. “You sure?” Stephen asked. She nodded and Stephen went back to her bedroom. Neither she nor Nick spoke in the seconds it took him to return with shoes and shirt on. Looking completely at ease, Stephen bent and kissed her cheek. “I like the robe.” He straightened and spoke in a louder voice. “I’ll call you.” The door closed, leaving just Nick. “So? What’s with the FBI knocking down my door?” “It’s Thursday.”

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Right. The day Nick set aside to have breakfast with her. She moved to the sink and wet a dish towel. His lip was bleeding too. “Hannah, what were you thinking?” “When?” “When you let him…” “Let him what, Nick? You don’t know what happened and I’m sure as hell not telling you.” She tossed him the damp cloth. “I’m not letting that asshole hurt you.” Would he hurt her? Maybe. Probably. But last night he’d made her feel amazing. Beyond amazing. Was it all because he felt guilty for before? “He has a reputation, Han. He’s not the kind of guy to—” “To what? You can say it. To want a girl who looks like me?” “Jesus, Hannah. No!” “Then what? He’s seen my scars. Have you?”

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Nick pressed his fingers against his temples. “Don’t do this.” She put her foot on the end of the couch and opened her robe, showing leg from the knee down. She watched Nick’s nostrils flare with his internal battle not to look away. “You can’t even look at them.” He stared at the towel in his hand. “That’s not true.” “It is.” And even though she understood, it hurt. “You’re past all that.” “Am I? How can I be past it when you remind me every single day?” He opened his mouth to deny it. “You do, Nick. I’m sorry, but you do.” Tears and her own guilt clogged her throat, but she had to say it. “Every time you warn me. Every worried look reminds me of what I did and how it hurt you. And you’re so afraid

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it will happen again, you make me afraid. I’m tired of being afraid, Nick.” She shook her head. “I don’t need a reminder. I’m reminded every single day of what happened. What I did. Every time I look at myself, every time I move and something aches. But how can I trust myself when you don’t trust me?” “It’s not that, it’s just…” Nick sank into the couch, resting his forearms on his knees. Guilt emanated until she thought she might choke on it. “Look.” She laid a hand on his burdened shoulder. “I know you love me. I never knew my mother, never even knew she was gone, and you filled that role, you—” “You knew.” “What?” “You knew about having a mother. I held you in that church next to three teenage boys all determined not to shed a tear. But as they

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pushed the caskets by…even at two years old you were smart enough to know and you screamed for her. God, you screamed, until I thought the stained glass in the windows would shatter. You cried for weeks, months, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do.” She looked at the man who’d been everything to her. Her parents. Her brother. Her hero. “You did it. You were there.” But he needed to let go, just a little, for both their sakes. “Mia thinks Stephen might be good for me.” “I don’t give a damn what Mia thinks.” “Why? Why would you say that?” “Because I don’t trust her, especially when it comes to you. And you knew that or you wouldn’t have kept it a secret.” Maybe, but she was still surprised by the level of animosity. He’d loved her once. “What’s the deal, Nick?”

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“There is no deal. It was a long time ago and I had a lot going on. Doesn’t matter.” “It matters to me. Especially since I was the lot going on.” “I don’t want to talk about Mia.” She cocked her head at him. “No. You want to talk about Stephen.” “Damn it.” Nick dropped his head in his hands. “I really hate that guy.” She couldn’t help but smile at her largeand-in-charge brother’s pouty tone. “It must be hard for you, so used to giving orders and watching people jump.” He gave her a look. “You know I’m right. And I’m glad. I love my scary FBI brother. But you have to know it’s not going to translate here.” She motioned between the two of them. “I need to act normal, do normal things, if I ever want to feel normal. And I do, Nick. I’ve been

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doing more hiding than living. Stephen makes me forget.” “That’s what I’m afraid of. That you’ll forget. That you’ll get hurt.” His phone buzzed and he checked the screen. “Shit. I have to go.” “That’s fine. I have an appointment to get ready for.” He stood. “Don’t see him anymore, Hannah. Don’t give me one more thing to worry about.” “Make things right with Mia. Don’t give me one more thing to feel guilty about.” He showed no sign he meant to comply. Neither did she.

Chapter 26 Stephen finished up another day with more than work on his mind. He’d checked in with Hannah last night, a phone call, a text. But it wasn’t enough and he meant to change that. Immediately. He just had one person to see first. He packed away his laptop, stuck in a few files. “I’m heading out.” “Out?” his admin repeated. “Are you ill?” “I’m fine, Dee. I have a meeting.” “Oh.” Dee’s shocked expression faded to understanding. “A business meeting. Then I’ll see you Monday.” “See you Monday.” He smiled as he passed and didn’t correct her. It wasn’t business, it was more important than that.

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He spent the short drive to the Norfolk FBI office thinking about just how important it was. And convincing himself he was doing the right thing. After passing through several security measures and waiting while Hannah’s brother verified his visit, he was allowed through. Stephen paused at the door with a frosted glass window. Very seventies. But he was in the right place, the brass label read SA Walker. His knock was answered with a terse “Come in.” Stephen opened the door and got a good look at Hannah’s brother before he bothered to look up. Head down, eyes on one of the many papers scattered across his desk amid mugs, soda cans, and a balled-up Taco Bell wrapper. He looked intense and irritated. He was about to get more so. He closed the door with a click behind him. “McKinney. As if my day couldn’t get any worse.”

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“Good to see you too, Walker.” “What the hell do you want?” “I want to talk to you about Hannah.” Nick picked up a mug, started to take a sip, then thought better of it. “Try again. Because that’s the last thing I’m talking about with you. Other than to go over all the various ways I can keep you away from her.” Stephen held his ground. “You can try. I’ve got something to say and I’ll say it. But before I get to that…” He walked farther into the room but didn’t sit. This was difficult. As difficult as anything he’d ever done. “She told me some of it. I want to hear all of it. Need to hear all of it.” “I don’t owe you anything.” “No. You don’t. But I care about your sister.” A multitude of expressions passed over the agent’s face. Possibly debating the merits of having him bodily removed and dumped in a

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ravine. But something won out, and he raked his hands over his face like he was rubbing away a bad memory. “How did you find her?” Stephen prompted when Nick didn’t answer right away. “Maybe you should know,” Nick said. “Maybe that’s exactly what you need,” he added almost to himself. “How did we finally find her? After forty-two days and seventeen hours? A neighbor smelled something, reported it. All that time…” He shook his head. “All that time she’d been just twenty miles from my house. “The smell ended up being his own mother. He’d killed her at some point and…God, I felt like I’d been looking for her forever. A lifetime. It was a lifetime. Following every lead. Threatening every suspect.” Stephen stood at the window now. Looking out but not seeing. His stomach already revolting, knowing Hannah had barely touched on the horror.

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“And then we found her. The nightmare ended, only to start a new one. I can still see it, still smell it. The odor was…All I could think going into that basement was, she’s dead. And then I saw her and I was sure of it. So tiny, like a broken doll. Almost unrecognizable. He’d used a bat. A knife. Cuts, slices. Some healing, others festering. Both legs were broken in multiple places, same as her arms. Three were compound. Hands broken. Ribs. A punctured lung. If we hadn’t found her when we did…” Nick’s voice broke. “She was so cold.” Stephen felt the acid filling his mouth, but he would hear all of it. “Lips busted, eyes swollen shut. A crude IV line we later learned he’d used to keep her alive. And awake. When I think about what she went through…Hey. Sit down. You’re whiter than death.”

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“I’m good.” He choked out the words but they both knew it was a lie. How could he ever be good again? “If you’re going to be sick, don’t do it in here.” He took a deep breath in and out through his nose. “Finish it.” Nick closed his eyes for a long second, like he needed a reprieve as well. “We didn’t know if she’d ever walk again. Speak again. Didn’t know if she’d ever function.” How does someone function after something like that? “Eventually she went home, though she had so many surgeries it didn’t seem like she was really home. Drugged out of her mind. Screaming from nightmares, from the dark. Even screamed when we touched her. Jesus Christ, she was like my child and I couldn’t even hug her.”

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Nick’s voice shook, mirroring what Stephen felt inside. “Did he…” He couldn’t say it and thankfully Nick knew. “No. They don’t think he could. But he did…other things.” “Is he alive?” The words burned on his tongue. “Yes. Doing life in Connecticut state pen, though there’s rumblings of moving him to a downgraded mental facility. I’m not going to let that happen. You know, he got more time for killing his mother than for what he did to Hannah?” So Nick hadn’t killed him. He wanted to ask why. And what would Special Agent Walker think if he could see inside Stephen’s own mind? “The FBI thought it best to get me to another state, probably right. And it was best for her as well, but believe me, I’m counting

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the days until he dies. And right or wrong, I will rejoice. To know that sick motherfucker is still breathing air in this world…” Nick shook his head. Neither man spoke for several seconds. “I want to take her away from here,” Stephen said when Nick finally looked at him. “Out of town. I don’t need your permission, and I didn’t have to come to you, but I figured it would cause Hannah less grief in the long run if I did.” “Where?” “I have a business thing in Vegas. Just for the night. It’ll be fun for her, good for her.” Or that was the plan. Nick heaved a weary sigh. He picked up a different mug and put it down. “I get it,” Stephen said. “The hostility. The anger.” It all made sense. Hannah’s body always covered, her apprehension, her fear. Luke losing it over her going to a stranger’s house. She was more child to them than

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sister. “If she was my sister, I’d want to wrap her up, hide her away. But she wouldn’t be happy like that. I even get that you might not care. But I’m taking her.” “I swore I’d never let another man hurt her. You can take that as more than a warning. It’s a promise.” Stephen gave a small nod of understanding and left Nick’s office. If he did hurt her, he’d deserve whatever he got.

Chapter 27 With a satisfied smile, Stephen watched Hannah take in the suite. The owner’s penthouse in five-star hotels tended to be lavishly over-the-top. His was no exception. Leather and glass. Marble and chandeliers. Giant sprays of flowers and assorted white candles. An enormous fireplace rose two stories to the ceiling, and there was another in the bedroom, still another in the bath. And making use of that could be fun. Hannah in bubbles. Thirty-eight-hundred square feet of sophisticated opulence and Hannah walked past it all and directly to the wall of glass overlooking the city. So like her, looking outside instead of in. Looking around her and not seeing herself, how beautiful she was. How special.

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It had been the same on the flight here aboard the company’s Twin Star. The cream leather interior, full bar, and hors d’oeuvres had impressed even his most discerning companions. But not Hannah. She’d politely declined the champagne, more interested in the clouds outside than anything within. Until he kissed her. Then he was graced with one hundred percent of her attention and he couldn’t get enough. He took another minute to watch her. A simple long-sleeved blouse billowed around her arms, thin pants outlined her shape. Sexy, elegant, and covered as always. It was his mission to change that. He stepped behind her, ran his hands over the curve of her hips, then around to her stomach until she was wrapped in his arms. Instead of flinching away, she leaned back against him, covered his hands with hers. They stood as one, looking out the glass, and he was struck with awe that she could trust

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him. That she’d suffered at another man’s hands yet didn’t move away from his own. The knowledge of that both heated and soothed. “It’s beautiful,” she said. And it was, the sun setting over the Rockies as the human side of Las Vegas came alive. But not half as beautiful as Hannah. Not half as alive as she made him feel. He’d been with a lot of beautiful women, but none compared to her, and more than that, it did something to him that she didn’t see it. “Thank you for coming with me.” He pressed his face into her hair, nuzzled it out of the way until he found skin. “You’re welcome.” “How hard did Nick try to talk you out of going?” “Not that hard.” Stephen nipped her ear. “Okay. Kind of hard.”

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“I probably would have done the same thing.” He turned her in is arms, kissed her long and slow, loving the way her fingers first clutched at his shirt, then moved up and around his neck. Still new enough it made his heart pound, but he no longer felt like he had to steal every kiss. “I could stand right here all night.” Her lips curved against his and he loved that too. And her fingers skimming through the hair at his nape. “You must be very good at what you do.” “I’m okay. “I’d say you’re more than okay.” She gestured to the room, the balcony. “Look at this. You’re only thirty-two.” “You’re even younger, and look at what you do. You make a difference.” I make money. Her gaze dropped to his chest and her smile faltered. “I may not be doing it much

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longer. The city is taking it. I’m pretty sure it’s just to sell.” Then I’ll buy it. That was his gut reaction. I’ll buy it and give it to you because I would give you anything. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. The state rarely goes through with these claims.” She shrugged, looking unconvinced. “I just don’t get it. It’s not that valuable.” He knew of at least one person interested and he should have told her a long time ago. Now it felt too late, like he’d been hiding it. He hadn’t, not exactly. “Why don’t I have our lawyer look into it, see what she can do?” “Maybe. I have an idea, or your sister has an idea.” “Oh, great.” He rolled his eyes. Hannah slapped his chest and told him the plan. Not a bad idea and possibly not worth a backlash of negative publicity for the city.

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He tightened his arm around her back and brought her face up to meet his gaze. “Promise me you won’t worry until I’ve had a chance to look into it. Go ahead with your plans, and let me work the other end.” “You think there could still be a mistake?” “I think there are always loops and holes and cracks.” And ways people, and the government, could make things look exactly the way they wanted them to look. “Promise?” She smiled, nodded. “Good. Now, unfortunately, we can’t stay right here all night.” He pressed one more kiss on her mouth before letting her go. “I’ll take the other shower and meet you back here. Oh, and there’s a surprise for you on the bed.” Her chin dropped and she bit at her lip, avoiding his eyes. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

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“Yes, I did. My date. I provide the goods.” He was no shopper, and he’d deny it if Lizzy ever found out, but he’d enjoyed giving his hotel concierge the yay or nay on each image she’d sent him. Loved picturing Hannah in each and every dress. And also because, as much as she didn’t want or expect anything from him, he wanted to give it. “Besides, it was too last-minute to expect you to shop. There’re lots of choices, but if you don’t like anything, I’ll have more sent up.” She gave him a shy smile. “I’m sure I’ll find something.” “Then get moving.” He gave her bottom a pat and smiled after her. — He’d been waiting over an hour. Having a sister, he knew it could take a while, but she’d been behind that damn door and away

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from him for way too long. And he was anxious. To see her. To touch her. He had this need to touch her. Walking onto the terrace, he could see the mountains, just a darkened backdrop now. This penthouse, in this hotel, in this city, represented a pinnacle of success. It said money and power. Exactly what he’d wanted it to say. And it had done exactly what he’d wanted it to do. But right now his mind was full of something much more important. Turning from the window, he checked his watch again as he crossed the room. An hour and fifteen minutes. “Hannah? You okay in there?” No answer. He was on his way to finding out for himself when the giant white door swung open. She stepped out slowly, her bare arms crossed over her body, one covering the other. She took a small step in the heels he’d purchased to match the dress.

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Holy Mother. His jaw hung, his mouth went dry. The siren-red fabric clung to her body, accentuating every luscious curve on its fall to the floor. Curves he hadn’t spent nearly enough time exploring. The neck draped just above her breasts and hugged underneath, outlining every place he wanted his mouth over, on, and around. All the places he hadn’t kissed enough. And the entire thing was held up by the tiniest of straps. Her hair was an artful pile of loose curls. Elegant and beautiful even as he envisioned pulling it down, wrapping it around his hands. She’d applied makeup she rarely wore, making her eyelids shimmer and turning her long lashes into a darker sweep around golden-brown eyes he could get lost in. Just fall right into and never climb out. A light brush of bronze accentuated high cheekbones, and those lips, well, she’d be reapplying lipstick because there was no way he wasn’t kissing her. “Come here.”

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She shook her head and it finally registered through his lust-filled haze that those gorgeous red lips weren’t smiling. “I can’t wear this. I thought I could.” She spoke quickly. “It’s beautiful, they all are, and you picked them out, but I can’t.” The scars. Damn it. She was so exquisite in every way, he didn’t even think of them. But she would. “Follow me.” He took her by the hand and pulled her through the bedroom, past the bed covered in dresses. They reached the bathroom and he turned her to face the mirror. “Look at yourself.” He skimmed his hands slowly up her arms until his palms cupped her slight shoulders. “You take my breath away.” And twisted him up like no other. He had this insane urge to wrap her in silk, drape her with diamonds. Wanted to stand in front of her, shield her, protect her. He traced a finger lightly along her skin where the edge of her dress covered her breasts.

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“So beautiful.” He raised his eyes to lock with hers, caught her hand, and brought it to his lips before she could argue. “And I will say it.” He gently traced a jagged purple line running from her left shoulder to elbow. “They’re a sign of your strength, your survival. They make you who you are. Which I happen to like very much.” She broke their eye contact in the mirror. “Stephen—” “Look at your eyes. This sexy mouth. People look at you and see an unbelievably gorgeous woman, and…” He smiled against her temple. “I’m going to be jealous as hell tonight when they do.” She finally smiled, and something stirred around his heart as he studied the picture they made together. “But…I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, or push you.” With one arm still around her waist, he pulled a long piece of silk from a hanger on the back of the door. “The lady said it would

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go with any of the dresses and I’m an ass for not giving it to you sooner. Though I was told to hang it near a steamy shower.” He spread the shimmering length in front of him, draped it over her arms and shoulders, and met her eyes in the mirror once more. “And before we left, I wanted you to see what I see.” — If she took his breath away, Stephen knocked the air from her lungs to the point of suffocation. Always dark and powerful, he looked even more so now, cleanly shaven in a tux that showed off his size and strength. Tailored black pants fit his long, muscled legs. Stark white shirt stood out against his tan complexion. Besides that inexplicable thing a black tux does to a handsome man. Almost too much, too hot, until she nearly forgot herself. He did that. Made her forget.

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Pushed her, or maybe led her, to places she never thought she could go. The trip, the hotel room, the party. The night that would come after. It was as if he had such an excess of confidence, it spilled over and onto her whenever he was near. Even now his hand on her leg burned through the thin layer of fabric. His scent, faint and musky, stirred her. It felt a lot like a first date, and it was the first time they’d gone out together, arrived together. Would leave together. Apprehension and butterflies danced in her stomach. He bent and pressed his lips to her bare shoulder. “You smell good.” She shivered with his hot breath at her ear. “It’s shampoo.” “And you.” With his hand at her waist, his mouth played wickedly around her ear, her shoulder, wherever he could find skin. “Have I told you how beautiful you are? How sweet?”

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“Um…I think you…yes.” She was already breathing hard when he lightly bit then licked that hot spot where her neck met shoulder. Stephen raised his head. “Damn. We’re here.” She hadn’t even noticed, Stephen had so effectively kept her mind occupied. They passed through giant iron gates and the limo slowed. “We’ll pick that up later,” he murmured against her ear and followed with another little bite as the driver opened the back door. The old governor’s mansion, set yards back and on a hill, was lit up like a birthday cake in a dark room. Balconies and balustrades overlooked the surrounding landscape, and it seemed each shrub and tree had its own spotlight. Smaller lights stuck in the ground illuminated the wide brick walkway leading to the castle-like structure.

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Stephen held her hand snugly in his as they walked toward three sets of ten or more steps with several yards of brick between each one. She didn’t make it past the first set before she stumbled. “Okay?” “Yes.” No. She was clumsy, awkward, and they were being passed by glamorous couples who were neither. Women in much taller, much spikier heels taking the wide steps with grace. By the second tier of stairs the ache in her legs had turned to fire. Her right knee buckled on the first step. She gripped Stephen’s hand as his other arm caught her around the front. “Damn shoes,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.” “No. I’m the one who’s sorry,” he said, bringing both arms around her. “I wasn’t thinking about your legs and the shoes—”

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“Don’t. It’s fine.” She didn’t want to talk about her deficiencies, not tonight, especially not now, walking into a sea of perfection. “It’s not fine. Just take the damn things off.” That made her smile. “And walk into the governor’s mansion barefoot?” “Why the hell not? I certainly don’t give a f–crap.” And in addition to everything else, he was pulling his curse words. She melted into him, his arms snug around her lower back, his warm brown eyes illuminated by the soft landscape lighting. Just when she thought she couldn’t fall any further, he leaned in and kissed her, right there in front of the couples passing by, the line of limos stopping below. He cupped the side of her face and deepened the kiss. His cheeks were baby soft under her palms and he smelled like every

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woman’s dream. Was every woman’s dream. And like only Stephen could do, he untied the knots in her stomach with his kiss, his touch. The insecurities backed away and she went from the awkward Cinderella who didn’t belong at the ball, to the girl kissing the prince. Already light-headed, she yelped as the world tilted and he swung her up and into his arms. “What are you doing?” “Being your personal chariot. What? Don’t look like that. I have experience.” He winked. “I’ve been told I’m quite good.” She smiled into his neck. “And you’re stronger than you look.” Partygoers turned heads and commented as they passed. “Why don’t you ever carry me up the stairs, Harry?” Harry didn’t answer. When they reached the top, Stephen lowered her to her feet in a marble-and-glass

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foyer. He wrapped a possessive arm around her waist as they joined a short line of couples showing invitations and pausing for a photographer. A second before the flash, he shifted and gazed down at her. “You’re the most beautiful woman here.” When Stephen looked at her like that, she could almost believe him. Like maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t so different. They entered what really did look like the grand ballroom in a fairy tale. Rich and elegant, a cacophony of voices and music swirled in an ocean of people. Waiters with trays on shoulders carrying food and drink weaved and dodged. She’d never been to prom, or any type of dance, but imagined it might be something like this. Minus the fancy food and adding a harder beat instead of delicate strings. They moved through the crowd, Stephen’s hand protective and assuring at the small of

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her back. There was laughter, twinkling and high, boisterous and low, and lots of half greetings. Hey, how are you—Hi, haven’t seen you in— They moved from one person to the next, barely skimming the social surface. But when people approached Stephen McKinney, they made a point to stop, make eye contact. And maybe she imagined it, but the men seemed to stand a little taller, the women smiled a little brighter. It happened again and again, always with her introduction following. Hannah shook hands with the current two men. “A pleasure. Stephen always gets the beautiful ladies,” one of them said. “Isn’t that right, McKinney? Just has the magic touch, I guess.” The other slapped Stephen on the back and the two men chuckled. Old insecurities needled their way in. She started to pull the wrap tighter around herself when she felt Stephen’s warm hand slide under the silk

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against her bare back. Right there with her, understanding her. The men moved away and Stephen looked down at her. “How are the shoes? I’m sorry, I didn’t think—” “They’re beautiful and they’re fine. I wouldn’t have worn them otherwise.” Stephen brought her fingers to his lips. For a long second they stared into each other’s eyes like there was no one else in the overcrowded room. She had no words when he looked at her like that. Touched her like that. And her nerves went wild again over the possibilities of tonight. “Sir. Ma’am.” A server interrupted, announcing individual bites of Belgian mousse–filled cake. They both took one and as soon as the man walked away, Stephen held his up to her lips. His gaze narrowed, brown eyes seemed to darken to the color of the chocolate he offered. “I like watching you eat.”

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She opened. Watching Stephen watch her was better than the dessert. “Good?” Sweet and slightly bitter, rich and creamy, but she’d rather be tasting him. “Very.” She glanced at the one in her hand. “I guess I have to give you mine now.” “No. I’ll watch you. Even if it kills me.” The heat in his eyes when he spoke might kill her. “I can share.” She held it up to his mouth. Desire bloomed and spread when his fingers closed around her wrist and he took the chocolate in his lips. Lips she’d kissed, that had kissed her. She almost went up in flames when he sucked her index finger into his mouth. He drew it out slowly, then smiled, looking extremely pleased with himself. “We could do a lot with chocolate mousse.” Good Lord. Could he be any sexier?

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“Excuse me.” A female voice came from behind her shoulder. “I hate to interrupt.” A striking woman came to stand beside Stephen, sounding like she was happy to do just that. “Hannah, this is Blair Sinclair. Blair, Hannah.” Hannah didn’t notice Stephen’s expression, her full attention on this new woman. “Nice to meet you.” “You too.” Blair hadn’t finished the words before her predatory gaze was back to Stephen. “I need a moment.” “I don’t think so. Not tonight.” “It’s important that I—” “Go ahead.” Hannah squeezed Stephen’s hand. “I’ll make a run to the ladies’ room.” She gave him another squeeze, assuring him she was fine, and he reluctantly let her go. —

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Hannah exited the stall and washed her hands at the opulent sink. The bathroom had obviously been modified for parties, with three stalls and a lavish adjoining seating area. A lady joined her at the mirror. “He is unquestionably the most gorgeous piece of man that ever walked the earth. And I’m sure my imagination of what’s under that tux doesn’t do him justice.” The woman fanned herself dramatically. “Umm…” It took her a second to realize that the woman swiping on lipstick was speaking to her. “Of course you’d know. So what’s it like?” “What’s what like?” “To be tied to a man like Stephen McKinney? To roll around naked doing the nasty, you know.” No, she wouldn’t. “Not that I imagine you’d be tied for long.” “What?” Their eyes met in the mirror.

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“Well, no offense, but I know for a fact that man doesn’t stay tied. Who knows?” She snapped the top back on her lipstick, gave her lips a final check. “Maybe I’ll get a shot with him next. Ciao.” She happily wagged chartreuse nails over her shoulder as she left. Hannah could only stare at her own reflection. Doesn’t stay tied for long. She knew it was true and she’d do well to remember. The last thing she wanted was to get her heart broken, prove her brother right. Could she have a relationship without thinking things meant more than they did? She was new to the game. She wasn’t stupid.

Chapter 28 Stephen watched in the direction he’d last seen Hannah. It was crowded. He should’ve gone with her. God, he was starting to sound like her brother, wanting to stand guard outside the bathroom door. Hannah had an independent streak. She wouldn’t appreciate a watchdog. “So, is that the someone you’re seeing but not dating?” Stephen thought about how to answer that other than None of your business. “Oh, God, poor girl,” Blair said, taking his silence as an answer. “I hope you don’t crush her too completely. She seems sweet.” “She is.” And he didn’t want to hurt her. If he couldn’t look her in the eyes as he entered her sweet body, he swore to himself he

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wouldn’t do it. He’d cut off his dick before he hurt her. “Relax. She’ll be a while yet.” Blair tossed back a glass of champagne. “Let’s dance.” Blair’s demeanor after their last meeting was odd. She wasn’t really the forgive-andforget type. “No thanks.” “Aww, come on. She can share you for a few minutes. For old times’ sake.” Curious, and with nothing to do but wait, they moved farther into the room and took the stance. His hand rested lightly on her lower back, hers not so lightly on his shoulder. Blair was a beautiful woman, objectively he could see that. But he couldn’t remember why she’d ever held any appeal. “My father’s not very happy with you.” “I’m sorry to hear that.” He was struck by a sudden annoyance with everything in the room. The people. The music. The woman in

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his arms. He wanted Hannah in his arms. Wanted to pull her body against his own, press his nose into her hair. Wanted to look into her eyes, not smoldering like Blair’s, but warm like a fire on a cold night. “You know that project is important. The money you stand to make is extreme.” When he’d pulled out of the St. Kitts deal, so did two-thirds of the other investors. Not his problem. It was business. “Did your father send you to change my mind?” Blair’s lips curved in a smile meant to tempt and seduce. “Can I change your mind?” He searched the edges of the room. “No.” How long did it take to go to the bathroom? Blair kept the hand at his neck planted, fingers digging in, eyes flashing. “You need to get your head on straight. This is important, Stephen.”

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No. It really wasn’t. Though there was a time he might have thought so. He looked again. Finally, the one who did matter came into sight between the bodies that swayed and turned around him. And damn it—some bastard was slipping his arm around her waist, pulling her against his chest. And Stephen was moving, eyes zeroed in on Hannah, sidestepping bodies as he made his way across the room. It all happened in slow motion. Hannah jerking back, colliding with a passing waiter. The scatter of glass, a pillar holding a giant flower arrangement tilted and teetered on edge before crashing to the floor. Son of a bitch! Blood roared in his ears as he pushed past people. Stephen grabbed the man, who was spewing obscenities at Hannah, and insinuated himself between them. He hit him once, twice, relishing the feel of his knuckles

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connecting. Gasps and shouts came from nearby guests as the rest of the room danced on. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hannah on the ground. He felt her distress and still, he wasn’t sure he would have stopped if security hadn’t arrived and hauled the guy up and out. Hannah skated back from the hands of well-meaning strangers, avoiding even his. The wrap had fallen and she frantically grabbed for it, trying to cover the marks on her arms. Her dress bunched up around her legs, exposing the pale purple lines from wounds and surgeries. The obviously intentional markings and patterns on her thighs clear. “Oh my God.” Blair gasped from where she stood on the fringe of the gathering crowd. He crouched beside her. “Hannah.” She didn’t look at him, just scooted back farther. Afraid or still not wanting him to see her.

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Either one tore at him and he struggled to push back the worst of his fury. He had to get her out of here before he came apart. “It’s okay, baby. Come on now. Let’s go.” Without waiting for a response, he scooped her up and started across the room. The guests gave him a wide berth and he figured the dark emotions must be clear on his face. The limo ride was quiet. Uncomfortably so. The killing rage boiled so hot inside him, he feared what might come spewing out if he opened his mouth. They sat side by side, his arm tight around her shoulders, Hannah’s body stiff against his. It was all he could do to keep the hand around her relaxed while his other fisted on the seat beside him. He needed to say something. Needed to be a different kind of man. “Are you hurt?” “No.” She shook her head quickly. “I’m sorry.”

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“For what?” He nearly exploded at her whispered words. “For not wanting his hands on you?” “I overreacted.” He almost laughed at that, seeing as how he’d lost his shit, but it wasn’t funny. “Hannah. Look at me.” She stared at her lap. “I know you’re angry.” He turned, took her face in his hands, and waited for her eyes to meet his. “Hell, yes. I’m fucking mad as hell, but not at you.” He brushed back a few fallen strands of hair from her cheek. “Never at you.” Damn it. He wanted to comfort her even as every cell in his body screamed to hurt someone. Then she laid a hand on his cheek. She gazed up at him, big amber eyes shining with the passing city lights and…he was lost. Amazed and shaken that she could do that to

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him, for him, he took her mouth hard, tasted chocolate and Hannah. The blood pumping hot through his veins with fury begin to pulse with something else. “I don’t want anyone’s hands on you but my own. And I’d rather be here.” He caught her lower lip between his teeth. “Doing this.” Without taking his mouth from hers, he pulled her into his lap. Then in the dark luxury of the limo, he kissed her like he’d been dying to kiss her all night. Maybe forever. She met him, pressed into him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Their mouths moved, tongues stroked. Everything about the night, everything boiling inside, came down to this second, this woman. He wanted to cuddle her and at the same time was so hard he was near combustion. Wanted to reassure her and guard her and run his mouth over every inch of her sinfully sexy body. A man who never lost control,

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always thinking clearly either of the pleasure he was giving or receiving unless he was too drunk to think about anything. But now, with Hannah, he was stone-cold sober and completely lost. His fingers tightened on her hip and he rested his forehead against hers. “Good God. What are you doing to me?” “I don’t know,” she whispered, breathless. No, he thought, catching his own. She didn’t. She had no fucking idea. He tightened his hold on her and leaned forward to hit the intercom. “Take the long way.” “Yes, sir.” His mouth was on hers again before his driver finished the words. He pulled at the shawl she’d had wrapped around her like a shield and went to work on her neck. Focused on the slide of her smooth skin under

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his lips, the scent of her, the essence that was Hannah. With a fingertip, he traced the draping neckline that had teased him since she walked out of the bedroom. His hand shook as he eased it down. His heart followed when he revealed her luscious bare breasts. “I couldn’t wear a bra with this dress.” She moved to pull it up. He caught her hand. “I’m not complaining.” And to demonstrate, he rolled one hard nipple between his fingers. A sexy sound vibrated through her when he moved to her other breast, this time using his tongue to tease, his teeth to make her wild. At the same time his hand began a slow journey, beginning at her delicate ankle. He shifted, moved higher, circled her knee, and ran his palm over her inner thigh. “So soft. Why are you so soft?” Her only answer was a sharp inhale as he brushed two fingers along the damp silk

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between her legs. He thanked God she didn’t pull away. If anything she shifted closer, and he slipped under the barrier until he found her soft, wet heat. He’d been with plenty of women, had a longtime girlfriend and fiancée, and still, he couldn’t ever remember being so moved. So consumed. He watched her expression change from surprise to pleasure, watched her head fall back on a sigh telling him he was hitting the mark. With his arm at her back he pulled her up to feast on each breast. He dampened them with his mouth, then blew lightly. Felt them pebble with chills under his tongue. She shuddered and shifted, arched into his mouth, grinding against his crotch until he almost came. He pictured laying her out on the seat and burying himself inside her. It would be so easy to rip the scrap of silk aside. He could sate this constant ache, drive home to an

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explosive release in seconds. But no. Her first time wouldn’t be in the back of a limo. Their first time. Because it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last. Street lights danced and soft music he couldn’t focus on mixed with their heavy breathing. He pressed, hit just the right spot. And even as she clenched tight around his fingers, he drove on until she went limp in his arms. Relaxed. Not a hint of tension. And, like a miracle, she’d taken his as well.

Chapter 29 Neither spoke as they entered the suite. The heavy door closed behind her and Hannah walked to the middle of the room, shocked at what Stephen did to her. Taking her from sick and wishing herself into a hole, to bold and hungry in seconds. She’d tried to get away from that disgusting man at the party but then he’d grabbed her, his fat fingers digging into her upper arm, and—she hadn’t wanted to dance with him, hadn’t wanted him to touch her. Had she yelled it? Hot hands came down on her bare shoulders and her pulse jumped before she settled. Stephen, who made her feel safe and secure even as he made everything inside her quake. She heard the brush of fabric just before his jacket landed on the couch to her

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right. His tie followed, hit the cushion, and slid to the floor. Warm lips pressed against the sensitive curve between neck and shoulder, held there, and it somehow did more than a thousand kisses. Like everything about Stephen and what he did to her was more. She let her head drop back to his chest. He tugged the strip of silk from her fingers. “I’m tempted to order up some chocolate mousse, though somehow I don’t think they’ll get here in time.” His voice rumbled through her and she felt his smile against her skin. Just like that, he chased away her insecurities, made everything right. She’d seen the anger in his eyes, felt the restrained rage in his body. Knew he fought it for her sake. He smoothed his palms down her arms and back up again. Traced his lips along the line of hair at her nape. It was all she could do to breathe when he scraped his teeth

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along her throat. Shuddered when he placed hot, openmouthed kisses over the sting. Chills broke out on her arms when he traced the tip of his tongue around the outside of her ear, bit down gently on the lobe. “I never danced with you tonight.” He said it softly, with more than a hint of seduction that sent a thrilling buzz down her spine. “That’s okay.” “No. It’s not.” His hands slid around to cover her lower belly, then stroked up her sides, stopping just short of where he’d had his mouth minutes ago. “Have you ever danced with anyone? Stood in a man’s arms while he held you close and swayed to music?” He pulled her back until she felt him hard against her lower back and a burst of heat flared between her legs. “You know I haven’t.”

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“I didn’t.” He turned her, stared down, his eyes intense. “I do now. I’ll be your first dance.” You’re my first everything. She met his eyes. “There’s no music.” “We don’t need any. Put your hands around my neck.” She did, sliding them up his chest as she went, following the contour of muscle through his shirt. All the strength and power of a savage fighter wrapped up in a sophisticated package. That was Stephen. With her arms wrapped tight around his neck and his hands firm on her bottom, they moved together to some silent song they both heard. “I’m glad you were with me tonight. And I’m glad we’re here.” He ran a hand up her back and under her hair and tugged. When he crushed his mouth to hers she felt it all the way to her toes.

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Hungry and hurried, desperate and drugging, until her knees were weak and Stephen was the only thing holding her up. Her fingers bit into his neck, combed through the softness of his thick, black hair. She pressed closer, sucked the breath from his lungs when his erection pressed against her belly. Stephen bit out a curse, then lifted her off her feet and walked them both into the bedroom. The lights were turned down low like the restaurant of their first date. A gas fire danced behind glass. The air was heavy and thick with anticipation as Stephen stood her beside the massive bed. His lids were heavy, eyes so intense she couldn’t look away. The tension and ferocity had drained out of him, to be replaced by something else. Something she wasn’t entirely sure she understood. But she wanted to, she thought, as he slid the pins from her hair, unfastened the braid,

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and loosened it all until it fell around her like a cape. Her heart hammered in her chest when he slowly slipped his fingers under the straps of her dress. Stopped altogether when he smoothed his palms over her shoulders, taking the thin strips as he went. Down her arms, not stopping until the silk dropped in a pool around her feet. Warm air rushed her body as she stood exposed. On the edge of a cliff in a strong wind. She took a slight step back. “Don’t.” He caught her by the shoulders, that one word low and rough. And though her instinct was to run, she wouldn’t. Couldn’t move away from this man who knew her enough to know she wanted to. She’d never get used to the way he looked at her, like he was looking at someone else. Like she wasn’t herself, couldn’t be, standing there in nothing but black lace panties and heels.

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His hot gaze raked over her and she shook inside and out. To the point she could barely breathe. To the point he had to see it. “You’re so beautiful. I don’t know where to touch you first.” “Anywhere.” Everywhere. He made a sound low in his throat, almost a growl, and reached past her, tore back the bedding and deposited her on the enormous bed. “Look at you. So beautiful and spread out before me like a feast.” She lay there on the silk sheets, the mattress soft and plush as a cloud, thinking so was he, tall and sinfully gorgeous, standing beside the bed like a god. Then his shirt fell away and her thoughts scattered. Fine black hair swirled around his chest and she wanted to kiss him there, follow the pattern with her tongue. It trailed down the hard ridges of his stomach, narrowed into a

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dark line that would have disappeared, but he released his belt and pushed his pants and boxers over his hips. She only got a glimpse of his erection, standing thick and ready, before his body came over hers. He got rid of her panties, left the shoes. Then, true to his word, he feasted on her. Hot mouth and big hands spreading fire everywhere he touched. Rough kisses followed by soft brushes that made her tremble. She ran her palms up his torso, mesmerized by the size and shape of him. So gorgeous, so perfectly male she was amazed by it. Clever fingers trailed down her stomach, and lower, just grazing her center. He circled her breast with his tongue, starting underneath and spiraling inward. His warm mouth was followed by cool air, bringing chills. He repeated it, his fingers between her legs, his mouth on her breast, each time going closer, making her hotter. He was destroying her, pushing her past all limits until she wasn’t

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aware of anything but Stephen. His scent. His hands on her body. The way he felt, silken skin over hard muscle. He was healing her even if he didn’t know it. With every caress. Every kiss. Finally, he took her nipple between his lips and sucked so hard it brought a rush straight to her core. Her breath quickened and his hands moved over her in a rush. Everywhere they touched, her body hummed, everywhere he kissed sang. Until all those places blended together and her entire body was a mass of sensations. Until she was vibrating with it. Just when she felt one touch from igniting, he stopped, caught her face in his hands. His lips hovered a breath away and fierce, dark eyes searched hers. “Are you afraid of me?” Her heart raced. She thought of the party. Her dreams. The dark. “I’m afraid of everything. I’m—”

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“Are you afraid of me?” he repeated, his voice almost pleading, and she shook her head. “Say it.” “I’m not afraid of you.” And she wasn’t. She was hot and burning for this man. Just Stephen. He shifted. A package crackled, tore, and he settled between her thighs. Her body thrummed with tension, uncertainty giving way to need. Then with their eyes locked, he laced their fingers and slowly entered her inch by inch. “That’s it, baby. Relax around me.” His voice was thick as he eased back, then forward again. Even with her body wet and ready for him, there was pain and pressure as her body stretched to accommodate him. Streaks of fire charged along every nerve ending.

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“Okay?” He stilled, waiting for an answer. His body trembled, beads of sweat gathered at his temples. Her heart swelled at the question even as she nodded. She wanted this, to be closer to him, as close as she could be. He stretched one hand above her head and held it, dove the fingers of his other into her hair. And with their bodies joined he kissed her like he never had before. Without finesse or control until she couldn’t breathe. Until she couldn’t think and her mind and body gave in to his slow, sure strokes. Her arms came around him, pulling him closer as their bodies moved, skin on skin. He pulled her thighs high up on his hips, moved faster and harder. Hunger rose to desperation. Pleasure built, gathered, and grew to that one final point when the world seemed to stop. And she had the thought there were places inside her she hadn’t even known were empty until Stephen filled them.

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Then she hung at the top on a long, timeless second before her orgasm crashed over and through her violently. His name screamed in her mind though she had no idea if any sound came out. He thrust deep again and again, drawing it out, keeping her on the wave. Then once more, pressing his face into her neck before he followed her over. Time passed with nothing but their ragged breathing and the beating of their hearts. His big body covered hers like a blanket, pressing her into the cloudlike mattress. Her mind felt sluggish, emotionally spent, but strangely alive at the same time. He tensed to move away and she tightened her hold. “Stay.” “Too heavy,” he murmured and rolled, reversing their positions. Okay, this was nice, too. Her body draped over his. His heartbeat strong against her ear while his hand made a lazy run up and down

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her back. It was perfect and she drifted, knowing she’d been sheltered her entire life but never felt entirely safe. Until now.

Chapter 30 Waking up next to Hannah was like…he wanted to say like waking up to the sun, but that sounded ridiculous. But watching her sleep, sprawled on her stomach, one arm bent under her pillow, angelic face turned toward him…it didn’t seem so ridiculous. The covers had slipped down to her hips, revealing enticing dips and rolls leading to her very perfect ass he’d kissed just hours ago. With his head on his own pillow, he swept back a long piece of hair lying across her cheek. Combed his fingers gently through the silky strands and breathed in her scent. The scent of them together. He stroked one finger over her feathered brow, around the delicate shell of her ear. She had no idea how perfect she was. How

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perfect she’d been last night. The way she’d taken him into her body, come apart under him and around him, crying out his name. The way she opened to him like she did for no one else, it did something to him. Knowing he was her first, that no other man had ever touched her, kissed her…it mattered. His hand cruised midway down her back. He hadn’t seen this side of her last night. Instead, he’d faced her, watched her eyes go wide with surprise, seen the initial shock until they softened with desire. And without a thought beyond Hannah, looking right into her eyes, he’d slipped deeper. Wanting to see her and her to see him. To remember this and picture his face. And more than anything for her not to be afraid. Her eyelids fluttered, long lashes blinked, and golden brown eyes found his. “Hi.” “Hi.” It had been a very long time since he’d woken with a woman and now he’d

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done so with her twice in one week. He wasn’t sure what that meant, if it meant anything, and he wouldn’t think about it now. He was guilty of many things, but he wouldn’t regret being with Hannah. Not when she was lying here so warm and loose against him. Naked and exposed in the morning light and smiling. He scooted closer and she turned to him, stretching her arm across his chest. He fingered the strands of her hair spread over him, twirled a piece around his finger. He liked holding her all warm and soft and sleepy. Their bare legs brushed and he had a crazy thought not to leave this bed. Ever. “This is nice.” She angled her head back to look at him. “What? Twirling my hair?” “Yes. Now I see why you do it all the time.” He’d meant lying here naked was nice, but he grinned and kissed her head. When he did, he caught a shadow quickly pass, then

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gone. “What?” He didn’t want her to hide again. Didn’t want her to think she needed to. “Nothing.” “Hannah. You can tell me. Anything. Everything.” She took a breath to speak, then stopped, sighed. “He shaved my head.” Everything in him stilled, and he instinctively tightened his arms around her. “Don’t get upset.” She tucked her face into his shoulder. “It was a long time ago.” “I’m not.” He felt her smile against his chest. “You’re a terrible liar.” He tried to relax. For her. And because he wanted to know everything, she would tell him. Everything about her. He stroked his finger along a thin scar running across her arm. God, he couldn’t imagine what she’d

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gone through and had continued to go through long after. “Do you still have pain?” “Some. Mostly when it’s cold, or if I do too much. But I’m pretty much bionic now. I’ve got enough plates and rods and screws in me to build a small car.” It amazed him that she could joke about it. Any of it. But that was Hannah. “What were you like before?” “Hmm. I went to school. Argued with my brothers. I was different before. Confident and sure of myself, tired of my brothers telling me what to do. Getting too big for my britches. I was taking college classes and I—” “Wait. College? At fourteen?” “I scored really high on a standardized test in seventh grade. Really high. I took a few classes as part of a special program.” “So you were a genius? Are a genius.” She gave a little shrug. “I don’t know. In some ways, I guess. I could hear something

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once and remember it, understand it. I could read most anything before kindergarten and I read a lot. “My brothers all worked, sometimes they’d drag me along. I’d sit in Nick’s office for hours and read. When I got bored with that he’d set me up with math games at his computer. I liked it. I was good at it. I could do algebra at seven, geometry at nine. And then…” She stopped, seemed to hold her breath. “And then?” “It all ended. I didn’t even graduate from high school.” “Not everything ended.” “No. Not everything. I was still alive.” But just barely. And it broke his heart. “What did you do?” “Nothing. I mean literally. I had surgeries, went to therapy only because they made me. Other than that I just sat. My brothers

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begged me, bullied me. I was almost eighteen years old and I was going nowhere. I didn’t care. So deep inside myself I just got lost.” Like he’d done. Would she understand if he told her the darkness he’d found there? “I was trapped, stuck inside a broken and constantly hurting body, and then I saw the horses. They were out there free in the blowing grass and…I can’t explain it. I just knew that’s what I needed. So I made a deal with Nick. He would take me to the barn to ride if I went to school. So I did. I still had a few more surgeries to undergo. I got stronger. Got my GED, slowly took college classes. Baby steps. “Riding did more for me in six months than physical therapy had done in three years. I put away saddles instead of lifting weights. I brushed horses and mucked stalls instead of stretching.” “So you knew what you wanted to do.”

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“Yes. I knew with all my heart. And I hadn’t wanted to do anything for so long. But more than that, it was the only place I trusted myself.” “Why?” He caught her hand, kissed her fingers and linked them with his. “Because…I wasn’t taken. I went with him.” Her voice was so heavy with pain and remorse and guilt. “Hannah.” “I’m not blaming myself, not exactly, but it’s the truth no one wants to talk about. I didn’t see it. How can a person not see such an evil? How can a person even be so evil?” He pressed his lips to the top of her head almost desperately, trying not to think of all the things she wasn’t seeing in him. “I’m sorry.” “I survived.” “Yes. You did. More than survived. You make a difference.” And she amazed him.

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“Do you think I’m going to lose the land? The barn, all of it?” “No.” Because he wasn’t going to let that happen. “You seem sure.” “I am.” He thought again to tell her his own company had been interested, but he held back. Maybe he wanted this…whatever it was, between them, to have nothing to do with business. Or maybe he didn’t want her to know that if he hadn’t known her, and if he’d thought it was profitable, he wouldn’t have hesitated to go after it. “Hey.” He lifted her chin with a finger. “If not there, you can do it somewhere else. It wouldn’t be the end.” He’d find her the perfect spot, somewhere even better. He’d design it and build it, make it so she could do whatever she wanted, have whatever she wanted.

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“I know it’s just a place, and God knows people have way worse problems, but…in a lot of ways that place saved me.” Like Trace had saved him. “I get it. I do. It might look like steel and glass but after…everything, Trace Development gave me something to live for. Something to want, something else to think about. I cut myself off from my family. Just tried to turn everything off.” Because it hurt. And because feeling anything scared him. “I think my brothers wanted the old me back. Maybe they still do, want to go back in time and make it not have happened. But they can’t and that girl doesn’t exist anymore.” He danced his fingers over her face in a light caress. Both of them had been touched by evil. How was it she’d come out the other side so much more intact than he had? “My family worries, I know they do. They want the old me back too. I pretty much snapped.”

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“Sometimes I think maybe we’re all just one rubber band away. I mean, you see people snap all the time, right?” Maybe. She shifted until her chin rested on his chest, and she smiled that beautiful smile. “And you know what?” “What?” “I like who you are now.” She undid him. Looking at him like that, smiling at him like that. It was almost too much to take. Shaken, he pulled her face up to his, met her lips, encouraged by her soft sighs. Then, in the brightening morning light, he ran his tongue along every line that marred her delicate skin. Covered every mark with kisses as if he could erase them. He’d missed this. Loving a woman. Being gentle. But with Hannah it was more. He stroked and teased until she was ready for him, then slid into her slowly and began a

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sensual dance that took them both over the top.

Chapter 31 Hours later, Hannah blinked against the ultra-bright midmorning sun rising over the Rockies and Stephen’s beautiful face hovering above her. “Last one up is a rotten egg.” He bent, pressed a kiss to her lips, then proceeded to tuck the sheet under her tightly and roll off the edge of the mattress. “I won.” She looked up at him, standing beside the bed, naked and glorious and…ready. “You cheated.” “So punish me.” Groaning, she wiggled her arm from his makeshift cocoon and slung it across her eyes.

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Stephen laughed and she heard him move away. She listened to the spray and splatter of water as he took a shower. Is he singing? Naughty thoughts danced in her mind as she imagined joining him. Not to sing, but to lather him up, lick the droplets of water from his body. She’d never known sex had a scent, but a sultry musk lingered over the silk sheets and she smiled. It was impossible not to. Last night—and later—had been perfect. Tender. The right time and the right man. Twenty minutes later, with coffee in hand, they sat together on the white leather couch. Well, he sat, dressed and looking sharp in dark jeans and a light-blue shirt. Confident and relaxed with it untucked, sleeves rolled back at his wrists, one giant foot propped on the low coffee table. While she lounged against the other end, rumpled and sleepyeyed, wearing only a robe.

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He sipped his coffee and worked on his laptop, intermittently typing with one hand and rubbing her feet nestled in his lap. She felt like Cinderella waking up to find the prince was still there. “What are you working on?” “Not working, just playing.” “Like solitaire or like making a bazillion dollars?” He just smiled. “Somewhere in between. I ordered us some breakfast.” “I should get dressed.” “No.” He tightened his grip on her foot. “I told you. I like you in a robe.” He gave her a hot look and she decided to stay where she was. He glanced over. “You look happy.” “I am. I slept.” His brows shot up. “Is that so? Well, I’ll have to make sure you sleep more often.”

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Raising her foot to his lips, he gave her toes a quick nibble, then a squeeze. She dropped her head back against the plush arm of the couch and moaned as his skilled fingers worked her feet. Just the two of them, sharing a sunny morning. She’d wanted normal. Was this it? Would she recognize it? Whatever this was, it was pretty damn good. She decided to take advantage. It was so rare that she ever looked at him when he wasn’t already looking at her. He really did have the most exceptional face and she knew his body now, every strong, sleek line of it. “You keep looking at me like that, Goldilocks, and I’m going to rub more than your feet.” “Promise?” His brows arched in surprise. She surprised herself, flirting and taunting a wolf so

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soon after she’d left his den. But now that the fire had been lit, she craved more of his touch. Her stomach fluttered when he closed his laptop, moved it and his mug to the table. With her feet still in his lap, he leaned over her, his hands on either side of her head. He didn’t look at her with pity or concern, or like she was broken. More like some kind of phoenix that had risen from the ashes, beautiful and strong. The victor, not the victim. “You’re going to need to put that coffee down before it gets spilled.” He relieved her of her own mug, then pounced, going for her neck first, and she burst into a fit of giggles and squeals when he rubbed his whiskers and nipped at her throat. A knock at the door interrupted their play. He groaned and slowly rose from the couch. “Whose idea was it to order breakfast?” His lips quirked and laughter shone from his

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eyes as he pointed at her. “Don’t think you’re saved.” Still smiling, she sat up and reached for her coffee, never imagining she could be so happy, so carefree with a man. Two newspapers lay on the low table in front of her. The Wall Street Journal and Daybreak Las Vegas. She chose the second and flipped through to the social section. “Let’s see what’s news in Vegas this morning.” She turned the pages and froze. The news in Las Vegas was her. A split photo in full color covered half the page. On one side, Blair Sinclair in Stephen’s arms, on the other, herself, sprawled on the floor, her face bunched in an ugly cry. The headline read: Beauty or Beast? Her eyes quickly scanned the text underneath. Beauty or beast? It seems that’s just what millionaire playboy Stephen McKinney has

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to choose from, and the beast certainly came out last night. She skimmed the information on both of them, more about him and Blair than about her. Since McKinney was seen leaving with a visibly shaken Walker in his arms, it seems, at least for now, he’s chosen the beast. Her chest squeezed painfully. Unlike the struggle to breathe in a panic attack, this felt more like her heart breaking. The paper bunched in her fingers. Leaving her coffee, she spun and escaped to the bedroom. She shouldn’t be here. He didn’t need the mark on his bio and she didn’t need to risk the ultimate heartbreak. It was right there in black and white and color. What he liked and what she would never be. “Hey, babe.” Stephen’s voice followed her. “They forgot the syrup. Doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. They’ll be right back. Hannah?”

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Biting her lip against the tears, she stuffed clothes into her bag. “Are we playing hide-and-seek now?” She heard the smile in his voice. Heard him stop in the doorway. “Hey. You getting dressed?” She yanked on the outside zipper of her overnight bag, fighting to swallow around the knot in her throat, bracing against what Stephen would say. Or more likely wouldn’t. He was too much a gentleman for that. He stepped farther into the bedroom and all playfulness was gone. “What are you doing?” He picked up the paper she’d dropped on the bed. Didn’t take him long. “Son of a bitch!” He was furious, of course he was. And embarrassed. Sorry he’d taken her? This was the second time she’d freaked out on him. Because she was a freak. “Hannah. Stop.”

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Damn zipper. She pulled again harder. Those weeks chained up had changed her, tainted her. Maybe ruined her. There were things she could do. Things she could be. And there were things she could never do and never be. “Hannah.” Stephen wrapped his arms around her from behind, trapping her, halting her movements. “Baby, stop.” She couldn’t. Her stomach was sick and her shoulders shook in an effort not to cry. Over their perfect morning ruined. How every insecurity slammed into her, dragging her back into a past she wanted to forget. But Stephen wouldn’t let her go. He kissed the side of her head and turned her in his arms. “Look at me.” “I’m sorry. This is—” She shook her head and one lone tear slipped down her cheek. “I shouldn’t be here. You didn’t ask for this.”

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“I asked for exactly this,” he said, taking her face in his hands. “More than once if I remember.” But why? That’s what she wanted to ask but didn’t. “I’ve been in the papers before,” he said easily. “I will be again.” He slipped the robe off her shoulders, ran his tongue along her collarbone. A soft intimate slide that made her shake in a different way. “I want you.” “But, Stephen—” “Now. Again.” He took her mouth slowly, tenderly, like he’d taken her body. She thought of the woman in the bathroom, thought that she should be careful. Should remember how very badly this could go even without her past. But she’d been careful all her life. She didn’t want to be careful now.

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He continued his convincing, moving them to the bed, and she stopped asking questions, stopped looking for answers and reasons, and lost herself in Stephen.

Chapter 32 “So we’re going to have a party? And then I can keep riding here?” “That’s the plan. We’ll just have to keep our fingers crossed.” The two of them navigated the even ground along the fence under a blue sky. Hannah turned in her saddle to look at the girl riding beside her. Allie sat upright in a standard English saddle, holding the reins perfectly between her fingers. She’d made that much progress. Hannah still held a lead rope clipped to the horse’s bridal, but only as a precaution. Hazel wasn’t going anywhere she didn’t absolutely have to go. It had been two weeks since their trip to Las Vegas, and plans for the awareness day were moving incredibly fast. It gave Hannah hope, but also made the possibility of loss

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extremely real. Breaking the news to her brothers and listening to them rant had also made it real. Though protective as always, they’d reluctantly agreed to limit their “help” to working on the awareness day project. As opposed to charging en masse into the city planner’s building. Stephen had been out of town for two days, closing a deal in Texas, but he was coming back today. They texted and called several times a day and her heart turned over every time. The way he said he needed to hear her voice, that he had to make sure she was tucked in tight before he could go to sleep. It felt protective but in a very good way. In a way she was afraid to think about too much. She and Allie were still a good distance from the barn but she recognized Stephen, standing at the fence in all his gorgeous splendor. Would she ever get used to the sight of him? Her stomach flipped and

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fluttered. Every time it was the same. Butterflies. Happiness. She’d missed him—realizing just how much was scary. The way he smiled with his eyes first before the slow sexy curve of his lips. The way he kissed her, which was incredible and made her insides melt, but even more, the look in his eyes just before their lips met. Like he was always a little bit surprised she was there. The way he held her hand while they watched TV or sifted his fingers absently through her hair as she fell asleep. “Is he your boyfriend?” Allie asked, pointing toward the gate. That was the second time she’d been asked that question. She still wasn’t sure. “I guess.” “Do you kiss him?” “Um…” She slid a glance at Allie, who didn’t seem at all embarrassed by the question.

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“If you do he’s your boyfriend.” Well. A six-year-old seemed to figure it out easily enough. “Unless he kisses other girls too and then maybe he’s not.” Hannah got a bad feeling in her gut. Did Stephen kiss other girls? “My brother kissed two girls so now he doesn’t have a girlfriend at all. If you kiss two, then you don’t get to have a girlfriend. That’s what Dad told him. But maybe they just don’t like him. He is kind of gross.” Oh, God. She was an idiot. Should she assume they weren’t exclusive or assume they were? Should she ask? Wait for him to say something? Stephen’s smile grew as they neared the gate. So did hers. He was here, that had to mean something. He opened it for them and they passed through and stopped.

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“Hey, girls.” He patted Hazel’s neck and took the lead rope. “Look at you up there. You’re a regular cowgirl.” Allie beamed with pride. Hannah beamed at the man. She swung from the saddle and he gave her a chaste kiss. Even that made her gooey. “You girls finished for the day?” “You’re never finished with your horse right after you ride,” Allie told him. “You have to take care of them first. Brush them, give them water, that kind of stuff.” “You’re right. You know a lot about horses.” “Hannah taught me. She could teach you stuff too.” “Yes.” Stephen sent her a look that made her blood hot and her nipples tingle. “I bet she could. Come on. Let’s get you down and get to work.”

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Stephen took Winnie’s reins and Hannah moved to help Allie. “I can do it,” Allie said. “Okay.” Hannah stayed back. “I’m only here if you need me. Which I’m sure you don’t.” Allie fisted a bit of mane close to Hazel’s neck, leaned forward, and pulled both feet out of the stirrups. With great effort, she raised her prosthetic leg, having only her hip to maneuver an entire leg. When she got stuck midway, Stephen moved to help but Hannah stopped him with a hand on his arm. Allie needed to do this. And she did. She got the leg over, turning herself onto her belly as she went. She hung there a second, both feet dangling. “Okay. Here I go.” Hannah held her breath. It was just two feet, but Allie only had one solid foot to land on. Stephen applauded her dismount. “A perfect ten.”

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She could have kissed him, would have if Allie hadn’t been looking over her shoulder, smiling like she’d landed an Olympic vault. But in a blink, the girl’s expression turned serious as she peered up at Stephen. “Do you kiss other girls?” Oh, God. “I asked Hannah,” Allie went on, “but she didn’t know. I just wondered, because you can’t be her boyfriend if you do. You’re handsome, but so’s my dad.” Mortified, she choked out something like a cough. And on top of the kissing question, was Allie trying to set her up with her father? “Allie.” Lexie called her from the barn. “Sorry. I have to go now.” As if we’d all like to stay and chat about it some more. Lexie met her and together they walked Hazel slowly but steadily into the barn. Cheeks burning, Hannah stared after them.

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“Well,” Stephen said cheerfully. Yes. Well. “Hannah.” “What?” Please don’t ask me to look at you. “Look at me.” She really, really didn’t want to. But she did and found him fighting a smile while she was dying from embarrassment. “Do you think I kiss other girls?” She dropped her gaze and studied the buttons on his shirt. Small, white, four holes. “I don’t know.” Stephen took her chin firmly between his thumb and finger and forced her eyes up to meet his. “I haven’t kissed another girl since the first time I kissed you over a bowl of ice cream. I haven’t wanted to. Haven’t even thought about it.”

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“Oh.” She couldn’t stop the joy that burst inside her. “I haven’t either. Kissed anyone, I mean.” “Good to know,” he said, fingering the ends of her braid and grinning like her answer was no surprise. But then he caught her face in his hands and she didn’t care. He bent and planted a devastating kiss on her that didn’t last nearly long enough. She opened her eyes, dazed, and practically floated into the barn. Together they settled Winnie and as soon as her door was secured, Stephen pulled her into his arms, lowered his head, and kissed her until she was boneless. She looped her arms around his neck. “I missed you.” He’d said it enough times via text, but it was so much better hearing his voice, feeling an extra-tight squeeze in his arms. He pulled back and studied her a moment. She knew he

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hated that she had nightmares without him there. “I’m fine.” She pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” “It was worth it. But if you feel bad,” he said, giving her bottom a squeeze, “maybe you should kiss me again.” She did, making it count, until a deep throat-clearing interrupted. Nick stood at the barn entrance, looking especially deadly. “More than worth it,” Stephen said, overly pleased. Hannah smacked his shoulder. “I need to go into the office, but I’ll see you tonight.” Then he kissed her again, quick and hard on the mouth. Boys. “Good to see you again, Agent Walker,” Stephen said as he passed. “McKinney.” Nick turned and watched him leave.

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“Good grief.” She went into the tack room and Nick followed, seeming even more irritated than usual. “I brought out the extra grill. Zach’s bringing out another one Saturday morning.” “Great. Thank you. Did Zach manage to guilt any of the guys at the station into helping out?” “I’m sure he did. You know they all think of you as their little sister.” Hannah climbed up on a trunk to reach a special strap she needed. “So you’re still seeing him?” She looked down at her brother. “Are you sure you’re in the FBI? Because your powers of observation are pretty dull.” “Ha-ha. One can hope. But that’s not why I’m here, exactly.” “And why are you here? Exactly.” He held up a sheet of paper. “Did you see this?”

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“I have no idea, since I don’t know what it is.” She came down off the trunk slowly, accepting Nick’s helping hand. When she was on the ground, he held up the paper and she got a blow to the stomach. It was a printout of the Vegas newspaper article. “How did you get that?” “I’m in the FBI,” he said, with a ghost of a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Not my finest moment.” “I knew something like this was going to happen. I knew it. Not even a month with McKinney and here it is.” She reached for a saddle blanket. “You know, I’m oddly okay with it. Stephen makes me okay with it.” She couldn’t control the goofy smile. “I’m surprised you didn’t go after him when you had the chance.” “Oh, I will. Don’t worry.” “No. You absolutely won’t.”

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He stabbed his fingers through his hair and cursed. Poor Nick. Always looking for a culprit. He didn’t know what to do when he couldn’t find a target. “You can’t blame everything on Stephen.” Nick said nothing for a solid ten seconds. Probably searching for something or someone to blame for everything that had gone wrong in his life. The one he should be blaming for most of it was standing right in front of him. “I’ll get the grill,” he said, then kissed her cheek and left. The man really needed a hobby. — “Fucking politicians.” Stephen slammed down his office phone. His first thought when Hannah had told him about her meeting with the city was a simple one—buy the land. Didn’t matter if she wanted him to or

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not. It was hers, a part of her, and he would make sure it stayed that way. But nothing was ever easy when dealing with the government. Did anyone there actually work? He’d done a good amount of research since their return from Vegas and he didn’t like what he’d found. The letter Hannah had wasn’t a will, and the government was under no obligation to recognize handwritten wishes. But they could. So why didn’t they? What was their endgame? To use it? To sell it? Should he be looking at the city or the state? The business world might be cutthroat, but at least you always knew the end goal was money and everything was for sale. It all depended on how badly the buyer wanted it. He dropped his pen and smacked the arm of his chair. He wanted to hit something. So far all he’d hit were dead ends. He glanced at the time on his computer. After six. He wasn’t going to get any further today, not

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with the government and their damn day-spa hours. Besides, he’d accepted a dinner invitation at his parents’. It had been a while. Not since he’d been invited, but since he’d accepted. He shut it down, closed it up, and grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair on his way out the door. He needed to speak to Dave again about that inside information, but his partner was getting more and more difficult to reach. Stephen walked to his reserved spot, rethinking what he knew and what he still needed to know as he drove. He’d never come across a piece of land he couldn’t get, and he wasn’t going to start now.

Chapter 33 An hour later he was at his mother’s table listening to the usual clatter and chatter of a family meal. It was just Matt’s and Lizzy’s families tonight. “I’m sorry Hannah couldn’t join us,” his mother said. “Yeah. She was too and made me promise to thank you for the invitation.” A student needed to change an appointment at the last minute and of course Hannah had accommodated. His mother’s hopeful smile beamed across the table. She wasn’t looking at him like he was one small step from the edge as much as usual. Though, being thirty-plus, single, and not settled down with a nice girl and a minivan full of kids, he was, in her opinion, headed for a life of ruin.

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As Hannah was only the second woman ever to meet his family, he knew she was making a great effort to keep her enthusiasm under control. “I think what she does with those children and horses is absolutely wonderful.” So did he. And he figured his mother was thinking about J.T. He’d talked to Hannah about his brother—first time that had ever happened—and she’d asked if maybe J.T. might want to come to Freedom Farm. The answer was no, or more like he didn’t know. J.T. wasn’t exactly communicating these days. Hannah told him to give it time. Maybe he should ask her to talk to his mother, ease her mind as she’d eased his. “I had lunch with Hannah today,” Abby said, halting her mother-in-law’s imminent gush of hearts and flowers. “Oh, yeah? How’d it go?” “Great. Plans for the big publicity day are coming together. We’re calling it Freedom

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Farm Awareness Day. And my reporter friend thought it would be a great local story.” The girls had definitely embraced the idea and were running full steam ahead. Abby and Lizzy continued laying out the plans. It sounded like they had it all figured out. He had his own contribution in the works. “I appreciate all this. Really. And so does Hannah.” “Well, don’t think you’re getting off without helping,” his sister told him. “Abby has lists. You all get a list.” He looked at his sister. “You’re just loving this, aren’t you? Gives you such a great opportunity to be bossy.” Lizzy stuck out her tongue and turned to their mom. Conversation ebbed and flowed. Kids who’d eaten in thirty seconds skirted in and out of the room. Jack and Charlie made a beeline for his dad’s old electric trains in the basement. The girls were “setting up

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shop” in the other room with his mom’s costume jewelry. Mary laid her head on Matt’s shoulder and sucked two fingers into her mouth. If Hannah hadn’t come into his life, would he have his family back? Maybe, somewhere down the road. Maybe not. Maybe he would have moved farther away. She’d given him that. A private look passed between Matt and Abby and his brother caressed his wife’s hand where it lay on the table, linking their fingers. “Do you want to tell them?” Like a radar detecting information, Lizzy’s ears perked up. “Tell us what?” “Well, Matt wanted to keep it just between us for a while but…I’m pregnant.” Matt held Abby’s bright-eyed gaze, pressed their joined hands to his lips, and Stephen knew that in those seconds, everyone else in the room disappeared. It was the same for him when he looked at Hannah.

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Lizzy clapped and squealed. “You’re having a baby!” “Babies,” Matt corrected and followed it with a proud smile. “Twins.” The squeals and kisses doubled, people stood, and Stephen fought to keep his face neutral. Even smiled when Abby looked up at him, though his brother’s happy news brought a certain hollow feeling to his chest. Lizzy’s husband, Paul, transferred his chubby, spaghetti-covered baby to his other side and shook Matt’s hand. “Better you than me.” “I heard that,” Lizzy said. “Just kidding, honey. I could have a hundred more.” As if in answer, that same baby laughed, spewing spaghetti-laden spittle in Paul’s face. “This calls for a toast,” his dad said. “I’ll get the champagne.”

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After the toasting and the hazing about how Matt always went the extra mile, Stephen helped clear the table and found himself alone in the kitchen with Lizzy. Yep. No good deed went unpunished. “So. How are things with Hannah?” “Good.” “You went out of town with her?” Stephen tried to edge around his sister. “Yes.” “How’d it go?” “Good, and move. I’m trying to work.” “Yes, I know how single-mindedly you like to clean kitchens.” He thought of doing dishes with Hannah. “Be nice if you helped.” “I did more dishes than all of you guys put together. So.” She leaned her hip against the counter. “How good is good?”

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He didn’t want to talk about Vegas. His feelings before or after. “Good grief. You’re a child psychologist. Remember?” “And your point?” “Ha-ha.” He put in the last dish and closed the dishwasher. “Leave it alone, Liz. Please.” She looked at him a beat, sighed like he’d totally exasperated her instead of the other way around. “Okay. If you promise me you’ll give yourself a chance.” He thought about that a second, but before he was forced to agree, the other women descended on the kitchen in a buzz of baby names and guessing sexes. Lizzy gave him a look, annoyed he was getting off without answering. Things quickly morphed into rearranging and redecorating every child’s bedroom, and he escaped outside to the deck. The men’s safety zone.

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They talked sports a bit as the sun sank behind the tall pines, throwing his parents’ yard into shadow. “Do you think she’s going to lose the property?” his dad asked. “Not if I can help it. This awareness thing actually has a chance of working, more than I’d first thought.” Stephen laid it out for them, or as much as he had at this point. “All I’ve gotten is a damn runaround. I can’t even get the names of anyone looking to buy it so I can head them off. It’s like I’m being blocked.” “Bureaucratic red tape,” his dad said. “Maybe.” But it felt like more than that. “So,” Matt said, looking over. “You’re going to take on the entire state of Virginia?” “If that’s what it takes. She’s not trying to make any money at it, not looking for riches or power or even acknowledgment.”

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Wouldn’t matter if she was. He’d take on the world for her. “Abby sure thinks Hannah’s something special. And I’m pretty sure Gracie would trade a brother for her.” The back door opened and a piercing wail poured out. Matt straightened. “Sounds like my cue.” “Me too,” Paul said. Matt slapped Stephen on the back as he passed. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.” “You mean besides your list?” “Yeah, besides that.” “Will do. Thanks, man.” The door closed and Stephen rested his arms on the railing next to his dad. He wasted no time. “Sounds like you like her.” So much for safety zone, and he more than liked her.

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“I didn’t spend much time with her at Gracie’s party, but I got the sense she was very sweet. And very innocent.” “Too innocent for me, you mean.” “I mean you’ve been playing the field quite a while, exorcising your demons, I imagine.” It never failed to amaze him how much his father knew without ever asking. Been that way since they were kids. The great observer, they called him. “Do you love her?” “I don’t know.” His dad made a sound under his breath. “I think you do.” Maybe he did. But he’d loved once, with every ounce of his soul, holding nothing back, and it had cost him. Not just the loss, but what he’d learned about himself. That part of himself he’d discovered and feared and hated. And more, it had cost everyone around him.

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“You might want to figure it out before she falls in love with you.” Yeah. Stephen inhaled deeply and let it out as his father’s words sank in. Because the only thing worse than his falling in love with her would be for her to fall in love with him.

Chapter 34 The evening before the big day, a low rumbling drew Hannah from the sink to the window overlooking the porch. A giant black truck pulled up and stopped. Surprised to see it was Stephen, she stepped outside. He got out, big-kid smile on his face, and she got a jolt just watching him as she always did. Hot in jeans and casual dark green. Though Stephen wasn’t a casual man and neither were her feelings for him. “What do you think?” “It’s…big.” It was massive, really, like an enormous testosterone machine, with a grille across the front that read FORD in bold black metal. “Well, thank you.” He winked, then in three strides leaped onto the porch and

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pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “I have a surprise for you.” Hannah raised both eyebrows. “Not that kind of surprise. At least not now. Close your eyes.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Close,” he said again and laughed as he jumped off the porch and went back to the truck. “What about the Porsche? I thought you loved it?” “Nah. Not really me.” Eyes closed, she heard him open the back, then a sliding sound against the truck bed. His footsteps shuffled on the pine needles, his boots clunked up all three steps. “Follow me,” he said, passing her and going inside. “My eyes are closed.” “Right. Don’t move.” He came back out and slipped his muscled arms around her

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from behind, nuzzled her throat. “Mmm. You smell good.” “So do you.” He always smelled good, a subtle manly aftershave kind of smell that made her picture him naked. This man who was bringing her body to life in a way she’d never experienced before. Or maybe that was more his clever hands sliding up to cup her breasts. He kept going, his fingers hot and slightly rough on her neck when he angled her back for a kiss. Hot and familiar, a comforting, I know you kiss. “Keep your eyes closed,” he said against her lips. “I thought this wasn’t the surprise.” He smiled against her mouth. “It’s not. Though if you’re good, maybe it will be later.” Another quick kiss and he pulled her along behind him. She knew her house, knew when she’d come to a stop in the middle of the living room.

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“Okay. Open.” A giant wooden easel stood, holding a flat whiteboard three times the size of her TV. “What is it?” Stephen walked over and flipped it around. It still took her a second to assimilate what she was looking at. She read the words Freedom Farm in big letters across the top. Stepping closer, she saw the barn, the fields. Not one but two riding rings and an area marked for a playground. It was exactly what they talked about. Stephen had taken her dream and put it on paper. Made it real. “I have another one, a more detailed version with the equipment, what I think it would take to build it, make it all work.” He was pointing and talking. “And back here is the camp. I know that’s more than you said but— Hey. Don’t cry. If you can’t do it here, we’ll find another place. I promise.”

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She shook her head. “It’s not that.” Her eyes went to his handsome face. Proud and maybe a little embarrassed, smiling that crooked half smile that made her insides dip. He really did see it. He’d seen and understood what was in her mind, then taken it and made it better. “How did you know? How did you—” “Great minds think alike.” Big hands caught her waist and pulled her close. Yes. They did think alike. About a lot of things. If anyone understood what this place meant to her, it was this man. They’d both been broken, Stephen by love, her by evil. Both of their lives changed by monsters. And both of them saved by places. She rose up on her toes, took his face in her hands and kissed him. This wasn’t simple, and every second together meant something. Every look, every touch. The feeling in her heart grew stronger, sharp enough

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to sting. Not falling in love with him wasn’t going to be an option. — Stephen let her nudge him three steps back until his legs hit the couch. He sat, watched her straddle his lap. She seemed to need to be in control and he didn’t mind. At all. He circled her narrow waist and let her have her way with him. Even though he’d been with her that morning, he was hungry for her. Starved for her body and everything else being with her did to him. With singleminded attention, she ran her palms over his shirt, then back down and under it. More experienced, less timid, she mapped out his upper body. She continued down his stomach and lower. Boldly, with no hesitation, she stroked him through his jeans and he almost came on the couch. “I guess you liked my ideas.”

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“I guess I did.” Loosening his grip on her hips, he shifted his hands, slipped them between her open legs. Two could play this game. He added some pressure and she drew in a long deep breath, let it out on a sigh. Even as she rocked against him, she pulled impatiently at his shirt. “I want this off.” He smiled as he peeled it over his head, then did the same to hers. And…holy fuck. His heart stuttered at the sight of her. Black satin and intricate lace covered and contrasted with the creamy skin of her breasts. His eyes trailed over her narrow torso and back up. Damn. She looked like a schoolgirl posing for a pinup. “Hannah.” “I ordered it online.” “I love online. Please tell me you locked the door.”

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“You were in charge of the door.” She leaned in until her lips were a breath from his. “My eyes were closed.” He smoothed his hands up her back and into the mass of silk tumbling around her shoulders. His blood pumped, mouth watered at that sexy innocence he’d noticed from the first. So sweet, inside and out, and finding her rhythm with him. They were finding it together. “Do you have any idea how much I want you?” With his fingers twined in her hair, he angled her head back and ravaged her mouth. Tongues and hands aroused and caressed. He found her breast and sucked one hard peak through the satin. He moved to the other and had her sighing in seconds, moaning in minutes. His entire body pulsed and he felt his erection swell even further. Driven with a desperation to possess her, to fill himself with everything that was Hannah, he stood and

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made a quick scan of the room. Couch. Floor. Wall. Table. And with what he considered superhuman self-control, he forced himself the few feet to the bedroom. When he was done, neither of them was going to want to move for some time. The second he dropped her onto the bed she reached for his zipper but he shifted away. If she so much as touched him, he would ignite. He quickly pulled her jeans down over her hips, taking her panties with them. Got rid of his pants and socks, hastily donned a condom, and joined her. The sun set through the two windows on either side of the bed as he stroked a palm down her body, starting at her neck. “You feel so good. Everything about you feels so good.” He thought to slow things down, take his time, or try to. But she pushed and rolled and came over him again, centered herself above his erection.

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His heart hammered, blood pumped as she unhooked the bra, let it slip from her shoulders. Long hair framed her face, nipples hard and bright red from his mouth peeked through the golden strands. An erotic image and one he wouldn’t forget. His virgin goddess, no longer a virgin. “I want you.” God, he more than wanted her, he needed her. With a force he couldn’t, or more likely didn’t want to, understand. She leaned forward and braced her hands on his chest. Her hair tumbled about them like a sensual curtain and she put her lips to his. “You have me,” she whispered. Then with her eyes piercing his, she took him in her hand, lowered herself over him until thick and throbbing, he was pressing inside her. Still so small and tight, he brought her down while he pushed up. Just as hot as the first time. Every time.

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He held there, giving her time to adjust, wanting it to last and knowing it wouldn’t. Not this time. But she rocked her hips forward, showing him she didn’t want time, and began a perfect rhythm. Her breasts swayed above him and he moved with her, driving up and into the endless pleasure that was Hannah’s body. Her head dropped back, sending loose waves to brush his inner thighs and his breath left his lungs in a rush. But then, it was the look in her eyes, steady on his, that did him in. Hot desire that matched his own. He hadn’t planned this, her. Hadn’t prepared. It was a risk. He was a risk. But she gripped his heart as sure as she gripped his body. Abruptly he sat up, and with more possession than finesse, he arched her back and took her breast without mercy. Desperately, he kissed her; lips, face, neck. He thought all of these feelings had been thoroughly ripped away, scraped out of him like cleaning a

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wound. Until Hannah. She found them, or maybe she put them there. And as he stared deep into her whiskeycolored eyes, he thought he wouldn’t need to drink or drown in work to fight off his demons if he had her. If he had her, that’s all he would need. But hadn’t she fought enough demons? “Don’t let me hurt you.” “You’re not.” Her nails bit into his back, as wild for him as he was for her, but that’s not what he’d meant. Mind reeling, fingers digging into flesh, he drove deeper. And deeper still until she cried out his name, dragging him over with her.

Chapter 35 The McKinneys must know everyone, have contacts everywhere. Hannah couldn’t believe what they’d pulled together in such a short time. Word had spread beyond anything she could have imagined. To their family, which was enormous, and friends, including the kids’ schools. She knew her students had all done the same, but she never expected this. And not just them, her brothers too. A tempting smoke billowed into the air from the grill where Zach and three of his fellow firefighters were serving up hamburgers. Two of the McKinney men did the same with hot dogs. The horses were spiffy, Hazel especially, as she’d let Gracie, Lola, and Allie have their way with making her beautiful. She wasn’t

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sure the other horses appreciated their froufrou appearance, but Hazel seemed pleased with hers, even the ribbons and beads adorning her mane. A line of children stood waiting for a ride. The city may have taken their stand, but there were more than a hundred people taking theirs today. Standing with her. Playing horseshoes and Cornhole, and eating funnel cake. Hannah stood between Luke and Nick as the news van drove away. “I’m so glad that’s over.” She thought it had gone well, even if it was seriously nerve-racking. “Looks like Whiney’s not getting her share of attention,” Luke teased, standing beside her. “Her name’s Winnie, moron.” The horse stood at the fence by the nearest turnout pasture tossing her pretty head for her adoring fans. “Did you see the sketch Stephen made?” Everyone had stopped and studied

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the amazing design he’d given her last night. Some offered to make donations, but that’s not what this was about. It was about convincing the city to let her keep it, to abide by the wishes of an elderly couple even if they hadn’t followed the legally recognized course. “Yep. Very nice,” Luke said. Nick grunted. “Maybe.” She glared at him. “Fine. He’s not all bad.” She smiled, knowing that admission had to burn his tongue. “You know, you two are a lot alike. You could be friends.” “Don’t make me ill.” Luke smirked, took a drink of the soda in his hand. “He’s just moody because the good doctor’s walking around in tight shorts.” Hannah followed the men’s gaze to Mia, who was currently working a face-painting station with Abby and Lizzy.

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“You going to talk to her or just shoot daggers across the grass?” Luke went on. “If you want her, why aren’t you doing something about it?” Hannah had noticed her brother watching Mia. Wondered if they’d talked, if maybe Nick was thinking about taking her advice and making things right. Nick’s gaze never wavered. “I don’t need your input.” “Oh, I think you do. Unless you want to stand here looking like a damn stalker.” “Shut the hell up,” Nick said, and headed off in the opposite direction. “Maybe you shouldn’t give him such a rough time,” she said. Luke made a sound under his breath. “And why the hell not?” “Because…” She’d started to say because she was afraid it was her fault they’d broken

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up in the first place. But the cycle of blame had to stop somewhere. “Never mind.” “Here comes the object of your affection now.” Luke pointed at Stephen, ambling across the clearing, a little girl on each arm. “Hey.” Stephen gave her a sheepish smile. She smiled back. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full.” “We do,” Lola answered, assuming Hannah was speaking to her, which made them all laugh. “He’s our chariot,” Allie added. She tried to fake disappointment, when really she couldn’t have been more proud. Lola looked between them. “Is she still not your girlfriend?” Hannah flicked a quick glance at Stephen, avoiding her brother’s eyes. “She is his girlfriend,” Allie said. “As long as he doesn’t kiss anyone else.”

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Stephen’s eyes met hers. “Definitely not kissing anyone else.” To emphasize that, he bent and planted a kiss on her lips right there in front of everyone. Her stomach did a little flip. So much had changed since that day at the boardwalk. But she read, she watched TV. A man wanting a woman, even needing, didn’t equal happily-ever-after love. She really needed to talk to Mia. “Okay, gorgeous ladies. Where to?” “Games!” they both said at once. — The day was winding down and Stephen looked around amazed at the way his family had come together for Hannah. He owed them. But then again he didn’t, because that’s what family did. Everything had gone well other than the several hours he’d been forced to spend with her brothers. At least his own brothers had

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been there in case it became the Montagues versus the Capulets—which it almost did during a cutthroat game of horseshoes. Though his own brothers seemed to get along annoyingly well with all the Walkers. Screw it. He only cared about one Walker. Was there anything sweeter than waking up with Hannah? Her soft-as-silk body cuddled against his? Stephen looked up, surprised to see Mia walking purposefully toward him. “Hi,” she said when she got within a few feet. “I wanted to talk to you before I left.” Hannah had introduced her as a friend, but she’d also told him she saw her professionally. Another bit of insight into Hannah’s past. “Actually, I just wanted to say something, I guess.” “I’m listening.” He braced for whatever it was she was going to say. What he already

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knew. That he wasn’t good enough for her. Wasn’t good for her period. “Don’t hurt her.” “I won’t.” His answer was instinctive, but he almost asked if dreams, daydreams, could hurt a person. If he could be a husband? A father? Could he hold a newborn baby if he imagined ripping someone’s heart out, smiling while they screamed for mercy? As a professional, what did she think that said about him? He looked up to find Mia’s eyes narrowed, studying him carefully. “Never mind. I don’t want to hurt her either.” “She’ll never see herself as beautiful.” “Are you asking if I do? See her as beautiful?” He glared at Mia, hating what she’d said but knowing it might be true. “She is beautiful. But I see her as way more than that.”

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Mia stood a moment or so longer before patting him on the arm and walking away. His eyes tracked over to Hannah and the horses. She wore jeans today instead of riding breeches, which looked just as hot, and a thin long-sleeved shirt, which he now understood. Her hair hung in a thick braid the color of summer wheat. The hair that had been wrapped around his body all night and spread over his chest when he woke. Lola rode Big Ben, Hannah walking beside her. The child had drawn a crowd, eagerly telling all she knew about how to make a horse go and where to put her feet. Allie sat atop Hazel, her big brother stood beside her, a protective hand on her leg. It looked like he was stepping up as Hannah had hoped. She’d told Stephen all about it lying in bed one night. How maybe Allie’s brother could come out and ride with her, something they could do together, since there were so many things they couldn’t. Stephen had promised

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her and himself he’d do everything he could to see that they had the opportunity. And that Hannah was there to see it. Hannah lifted another small child into the saddle. She was doing too much and she’d be sore tonight. But, he thought with a smile, he’d take care of that in some very enjoyable ways. “Hey, man.” Matt and Andrew joined Stephen at the fence, leaving their post at the grill. Surprising to see Matt more than a few yards from Abby. His brother was in major protection mode of his pregnant wife. “You know,” Matt said, “you keep smiling like that, your face might get stuck.” “Shut up.” But he was happy. Especially as he remembered soaping her up in a fruity lather this morning, rinsing her off. He’d slept with her sexy ass nestled against his crotch, her breast filling his hand. Had turned to her in the night, hard, throbbing

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with need and she’d opened to him, for him. Yeah, he was happy. “No, seriously,” Andrew said. “It’s downright frightening.” “Don’t you guys have anything to do? Where’s Lizzy?” Matt grinned. “If you call her over, she’ll give you a job. Besides, we’re on break.” Stephen made a sound of agreement, but kept an eye on Allie’s father moving to stand next to Hannah. He was about Stephen’s age, maybe a little older. “I see you got a new ride,” Andrew said, motioning to Stephen’s truck. “Yeah.” “A little more manly?” “Shut the hell up.” His sports car had gone with his image but it wasn’t really him. Or maybe it was, just not the him he wanted to be. “What do you drive? A minivan?”

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“Don’t dis on the minivan. It’s got doors that open on my command.” Matt laughed. “Let me know when you boys want a real ride.” Matt gestured to his black Hummer sitting off to the side. “Hah.” Andrew smirked. “You bought that because Jack said it was cool.” Stephen raised an eyebrow. “You bought an eighty-thousand-dollar car because a sixyear-old said it was cool?” Matt just shrugged, unfazed. “He liked it. And it is cool. Don’t be jealous, minivan.” Stephen was no longer listening to his brothers’ smack. He didn’t care for how close Allie’s dad was standing to Hannah, and when his hand touched her shoulder, Stephen saw red. He’d unleashed a passion in her, revealed it to her, as he’d meant to, but the thought of her revealing it to someone else…Just the idea of another man touching her, sharing

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what they shared—his mind rejected it. But as he watched Hannah with Allie’s father, he wondered if the man dreamed of torturing and killing the drunk driver who’d killed half his family. Their laughter floated to him and he figured not. “Uh-oh.” Andrew followed Stephen’s line of sight. “Looks like smiley man has been replaced. Don’t lose it, dude. You’ll upset the horses.” “Fuck you.” He didn’t want her to smile at anyone else, laugh with anyone else. Stephen headed off to make sure there were no misunderstandings. “Stephen.” He was halfway there when he turned at the sound of his name, surprised to see Dave striding toward him. “Hey, man. What’s up?”

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“Just out.” Dave adjusted his sunglasses. “Thought I’d come by and support. Looks like quite a party.” “Yeah. It’s a good turnout.” “So where’s the special lady that’s gotten you so off track?” Stephen felt his jaw tighten. “No one’s got me off track.” “Ah. Would that be her walking over here with the big bright smile on her face?” He didn’t like Dave’s tone or the way he lowered his glasses, making a show of checking her out top to bottom. “Very nice. I can see why you resisted the purchase deal.” Stephen slid a protective and possessive arm around her as she came to stand beside him. “Hannah, this is Dave Pietro, my partner at Trace Development.” “And his right-hand man,” Dave added, holding out a hand to shake Hannah’s.

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She took it, let it go quickly. “Nice to meet you.” “You too. So you’re hoping to convince the city they shouldn’t take this property by having a party?” “Well, it’s more than a party. I’m hoping if people understand what I do here, they’ll want me to keep doing it.” Stephen felt her tense beside him and tightened his hold. “What she does out here is amazing.” Dave nodded, smiled. “I see. But couldn’t you do that somewhere else?” Dave wouldn’t understand what this place meant to Hannah. Didn’t think he knew what Trace meant to him. “I mean, Stephen here is an expert at finding suitable properties. Closing deals. Did you know they call him The Shark?” “I’m sure it’s because he’s good at what he does.”

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“Yes,” Dave agreed. “I’m sure that’s it.” Stephen didn’t know what Dave was up to, or if he was up to anything, but he didn’t like the vibe and was glad when he excused himself. “What was that about?” Hannah asked. “I don’t know.” “Did you know he was coming?” “No.” They walked toward the last clump of people. “How did he even know where it was?” “I don’t know.” Stephen took her hand, linking their fingers even as his body tensed with the lie.

Chapter 36 “Abby, please. You don’t have to do this.” Hannah put away the leftover condiments while Abby wiped down the counter. It was after nine, and they were all tired after the long day followed by cleanup and taking care of the horses. Low voices of the men drifted from the front porch through her open door. Stephen had stayed to help, along with Matt and Abby and her brothers. Who were behaving surprisingly well. “Don’t be silly,” Abby said. “Of course I’ll help. It’s my only contribution. Plus, tonight will be like a vacation since Matt’s parents took all the kids. I was told the McKinney family babied their pregnant women, and they weren’t kidding.” Right on cue, Matt’s voice came from the front porch. “Abby, come sit down.”

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“I’m coming.” She rolled her eyes and made no move to leave. Instead she took a seat at Hannah’s kitchen table. There really hadn’t been much work for dinner since there’d been plenty of leftover hamburgers and hot dogs. Hannah closed the dishwasher and joined her. “Are the kids excited about the babies?” “Annie is, Jack couldn’t care less. Gracie has reattached herself to Matt even more than usual. I’m not sure about Charlie yet. And then of course Mary is oblivious.” “That’s a big family.” “Yeah.” Abby smiled. “But Matt’s from a big family and I always wanted a big family, so…it works.” Hannah smiled past the knot in her throat. “Yeah. It definitely works.” Stephen was from a big family too. She’d love any child, but maybe Stephen wanted his own. Maybe she should tell him there

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was a good possibility she couldn’t have children. Were they at that point yet? The thought of facing him with yet another issue made her sick. Hannah noticed Abby’s gaze fall to her arms. She’d gotten hot during the cleanup effort and shed the long sleeves she’d worn over her tank top. It was another step. Everyone here tonight already knew anyway. “Matt told me what happened.” “I know.” Stephen had admitted to telling Matt about her past and told her Abby most likely knew, as Matt would have shared it with his wife. “I only want to say I’m sorry. I hope you’re not mad at Matt or at Stephen. I think Stephen needed someone to confide in.” “I’m not mad.” And she wasn’t. It was more of a relief, really.

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A burst of laughter from the front porch pulled their attention and the moment passed. “Looks like the boys are getting along,” Abby said. Stephen and Nick sat on the porch. On opposite ends and not talking but at least drinking a beer in the same space. “Not at each other’s throats is progress.” “Yes. Progress.” Abby turned back to her and smiled. “Stephen seems happier than I’ve ever seen him. Not that I’ve I known him that long, not like the others. When I met Matt…Stephen wasn’t around much. He was hurting. I know Matt worried about him, felt guilty for not being there more.” “When his fiancée died.” It wasn’t a question. She knew. “Yes.”

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“He must have loved her a lot to cut himself off from his brothers, his family.” So much he couldn’t love anyone else? “I’m sure he did. I never met her. But people heal.” Abby covered her hand. “They learn to live again. Sometimes, most of the time, it’s finding the right person that does it.” It was becoming more and more clear to her how badly she wanted to be that person for Stephen. With more noise and scraping from the front porch, the men came in and interrupted whatever else Abby might have said. Matt came directly to his wife. “Almost time for the news, girls.” Zach walked over and turned the TV to the right channel, volume low. They talked around the news, waiting for the coverage of awareness day to air. “There it is,” Nick said. “Turn it up.”

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Stephen stood behind her, hands firmly on her shoulders for support. “According to sources I spoke with today, the city of Norfolk has no plans to reverse the decision to take ownership of the property in question. And although the council feels for Ms. Walker’s plight, the land does fall under the state’s intestacy laws, which state, ‘When any person leaves property without a lawfully documented will and no legal relatives, all such property goes to the state.’ And in this case they have every intention of acting on that law and moving forward. Back to you, Scott.” “Son of a bitch!” Hannah might have smiled at the fact that Nick, Luke, and Stephen all said the same thing in unison, but it was hard to smile when her stomach was sinking. “So that’s it then.” Stephen gave her shoulders a squeeze and kissed the top of her head. “Not necessarily.

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Sometimes you just have to find the right chains to rattle. Plus, this was about public pressure, and the public hasn’t had a chance to rally yet. They will.” “They’re pushing,” Matt added. “We’ll push back harder.” They talked about it a few more minutes, and after everything they’d done, she worked to keep a smile on her face. Abby hugged her goodbye. “We’ll go to lunch this week. And Gracie will be out for her lesson on Tuesday.” “Sounds great.” Stephen thanked Matt and they did the guy handshake-backslap. “It was fun.” Luke and Zach also shook Stephen’s hand, gave manly looks, and left. A subtle acceptance, because it was obvious Stephen wasn’t leaving. At least not with everyone else.

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Zach hugged her and walked out behind Luke. “Let’s go, Nick.” Nick wasn’t giving over so easily. He paused on the porch. “One of these posts is loose.” He pushed at the wood. She didn’t see it moving. Stephen straightened from his position against the door frame. “I’ll take a look at it,” he said, looking right at Nick. “In the morning.” Every muscle in Nick’s face twitched. Jeez. They never got tired of this pissing contest. When Nick finally drove away, Stephen wrapped her in his arms and she leaned into him. “Do you have to push his buttons like that?” “Yeah. I do. Does it bother you?” “Well, it’s not making things any easier.”

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He nuzzled the top of her head. “Okay. I’ll try.” She sighed and he read her mind. “It’s not over.” “I wish I were as confident.” After the news, she wasn’t so sure. “You’re tired. How about a hot shower, then I’ll rub your feet?” She angled her head up to look at this man who had come into her life and made everything better. “I can’t believe all you did for me today. The food, the games, the prizes.” “I didn’t do too much. The girls took over, and that was no hardship. Those women love nothing more than to plan parties, and it’s Lizzy’s dream to take over the world.” “You paid for it all. Don’t deny it, your sister told me. How can I ever pay you back?” Stephen’s lids fell heavy and a devious smile crept into his lips. “Oh, honey. Did you really just ask me that?” He shook his head.

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“I’m a man. There’s always a way you can pay me back. Maybe we can work something out in the shower. Maybe I can rub something besides your feet.” — Later, in bed, she thanked him again, for the day and for everything else he’d given her. She never imagined she’d have this, feel this way. Take her clothes off and not be afraid of what he saw. Be held by someone. Lie skin to skin, so close that she fell asleep to the sound of his steady heartbeat. Not even in her wildest dreams did she think she would have the courage to share a shower, walk around nude, get cookies, and burn up the kitchen table. Stephen had done that because he refused to let her hide. And he was the only man she didn’t want to hide from.

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They lay naked now, her back to his chest, his thick arm wrapped around her. She was tired, achy, but more content than she’d ever been. “Matt’s pumped about the new babies.” “Yeah,” she said. “I talked to Abby.” He kissed the back of her head and cradled her breast in his palm. “You’d make a great mother.” She didn’t answer, just traced her fingers along his arm. “What?” He pulled her a little tighter against him. Seconds passed. She couldn’t hide from him and his instincts where she was concerned, so she told him. Relayed what the doctors had said, and before she was even finished, he turned her in his arms, sheltered her with his body until her eyes filled with tears. Maybe more about Stephen’s arms

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around her than what she was saying. She’d accepted that a long time ago. “It’s not for sure, but…I would love any child. I could adopt. I’d like to adopt children with disabilities, and I could do that alone.” She was grateful for that but it pissed her off some that they’d more readily let her adopt those children because they were the ones no one else wanted. Every child should be wanted. “Yes. You could. But you shouldn’t have to do it alone.” He didn’t say she’d do it not alone with him.

Chapter 37 Hannah sat on a bale of hay just outside the back of the barn. She tugged on the leather straps, working them loose to adjust the special saddle to fit the small four-year-old she’d see later today. Pausing, she shook out her hands. “You did too much yesterday,” Lexie said, stopping beside her. “You should take something.” Yeah. She should. But she smiled at the worry on Lexie’s face. “I’m good. You don’t need to be here on a Sunday, Lexie. It’s your day off.” Lexie made a disagreeable sound under her breath and continued about her business. “You think it’s going to work?”

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“I don’t know.” She wondered if Lexie had seen the news last night. “Stephen said there’s still a chance. The public still has time to rally.” “And if not?” “If not…” She shrugged. “I guess I’m moving.” “This is all such a load of shit. Just a load of stinking shit.” She agreed. “Hannah?” Stephen. “Out here.” She got up to meet him. “Mighty fine man that makes a girl smile like that just by calling her name,” Lexie said, amused. Yes. Mighty fine indeed, and the smile spread. She watched him amble down the barn aisle toward her, especially hot in jeans and boots. Unshaven, looking more like an outlaw than a millionaire.

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He met her midway, pulled her in for a hot kiss, and everything in her steadied with his arms around her. Or one arm, as it was at the moment. Curious, she eased back. “What do you have there?” “Might be lunch.” “Might be?” Stephen pulled a small wicker basket from behind him. “You packed a picnic?” She didn’t even try to hide her shock. “Yeah, well, my mom might have helped a little.” She cocked her head. “Are you trying to cheer me up?” “Am I cheering you up?” He smiled down at her. “Because I don’t like to lose, so if it’s not working, then I’m just a guy looking to eat lunch with a beautiful woman.” Hannah pulled his face down to hers and kissed him again. The warmth that had

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started with a smile slid down her spine and straight to her core when his tongue swirled around hers. Even more when the arm around her moved lower until his hand smoothed over her bottom. “I think it’s working,” she said against his lips. “Good. I’ll get the horses. Why don’t you grab a blanket for our picnic? And other activities.” Her heart skipped at the thought of the other activities he had in mind. The land in this part of the country was mostly flat, but there were groves of trees to break up the landscape, and the grasses higher up in the fields swayed like untouched earth. “Warm day,” he said. “Mmm.” A warm May day, summer already trying to push spring aside. And both of them in jeans.

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She glanced over. Lord, he was hot on a horse. Cowboy. Playboy. Warrior. CEO. Master of his domain. She could only shake her head. “What?” “Just thinking you look like a cowboy.” “Is that a bad thing?’ “No. Though it could be kind of irritating for a girl. How you look good in anything.” “Well.” Stephen’s hot gaze traveled over her. “You look good in nothing. And just so you know,” he added with a smile, “I don’t find that at all irritating.” Okay. Now she was burning. “I saw a spot on our last ride I wanted to take you on.” She shot him a glance from her seat on Winnie. “I mean to. A spot I wanted to take you to.” She raised an eyebrow at his tone and innuendo, and he laughed. After that they were

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quiet, each taking in the scenery. The land dipped and they slowed, entering a string of trees lining a shallow creek. They stopped on a grassy bank under the canopy of shade. “This is nice. Plenty of room to…lay out our picnic.” “You’re in a mood.” Stephen only smiled. “Mr. Ed had some new things to say to me this morning,” Stephen said as she dismounted and took the basket he’d been holding. “Really? When did you talk to Mr. Ed?” “When you went to get the blanket. It was quick.” “Hmm. And what kind of things did you talk about?” She fixed the horses’ reins to the saddles while he spread the blanket. “Secrets.” “You’re keeping secrets with a horse? Interesting. I wonder what your business associates would think of that.”

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He smiled, sly as a fox. “Oh, I don’t think they’ll find out.” “They might,” she said, grinning right back. “You talk to horses.” “I only talk to horses, so it doesn’t matter what people think.” “You talk to me.” “Yes.” She gazed up at him, all joking aside. “I talk to you.” More than anyone, which made her equal parts warm and shaky inside. “So what did Mr. Ed say?” “Take your clothes off.” She gasped, feigning shock. “Mr. Ed would never say something like that.” “I meant take off your clothes and maybe I’ll tell you.” He stalked toward her. “You know you’re hot.” Her eyebrows shot up and she stepped back. “Am I?” “You said you were.”

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“I think you said it was hot and I agreed.” He made a grab for her and she skipped away laughing. “Come here.” “No.” She skirted in and out of the trees along the bank while Stephen stalked her, playful, amused. “Hannah.” The deep rub of his voice when he said her name and the serious look in his eyes made her tremble. “What?” “Take off your clothes.” “It’s only two feet of water.” “It’s not really about the swimming.” He’d stopped chasing and already had his socks and boots off. “So this is another one of those guy tricks?” He peeled off his shirt and all she could think was, it was a good trick. The sight of his chest made her fuzzy. His abs, his arms.

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And distracted as she was, he shot out a hand and yanked her flush against him. “Take them off or get them wet.” “You’re serious.” “I’m very serious.” He dropped his jeans. “I want you. Out here. In the sunlight.” He let her go and waited. Slowly, never taking her eyes from his, she pulled her shirt up by the hem, revealing her stomach and every mark on it. Was there anything she wouldn’t do for him? With him? “Keep going.” His eyes, so deep and brown, roamed every inch of her newly exposed body. What did he see when he looked at her? “All of it.” When she was in only her panties he lunged, wrapped thick arms around her bare thighs, and lifted her off her feet. She

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squealed and clung to his wide shoulders. He hooted and laughed when he hit the water. “I told you it was cold.” But his lips were soft and warm when they found hers. His cheeks rough against her palms when she took his face in her hands. She pulled her legs up and around his waist as he walked them deeper beyond the shady trees. He groaned, caught the hair at her nape and pulled, covering her mouth with his. It was a slow, lazy kiss, a pouring out of emotion that made her ache for more. With their lips still joined, he carried her out of the water. He let her slide down his body, her bare nipples rasping against his chest as she went. When her toes were inches from the ground, she dropped kisses over the flexing muscles in front of her. Circled her tongue around his flat nipples and trace the pattern of hair between. He moaned, caught her mouth and kissed her until she couldn’t stand. He laid her

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down on the blanket he’d spread. The ground was cool against her back, Stephen hot above her. He slid his fingers into her hair, framing her face and she couldn’t breathe. Stephen looked at her and she trembled. He touched her and her breath caught. “You’re so beautiful.” “Only for you.” “No, baby.” He feathered his lips along her cheeks, her mouth, the curve of her shoulder. “Always.” He continued the onslaught, down her body and back, making her burn. Until he had her moaning with pleasure and squirming beneath him. He came back to her lips, met her eyes and held until she was shaking inside. “What…what did Mr. Ed tell you?” “Mr. Ed told me,” Stephen kissed his way to just below her ear. “That you like me. He said…”—Stephen pulled back until their eyes met—“that you might even love me.”

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Her heart was suddenly too big for her chest. Because she did. She loved him. She’d been half in love with him before their first kiss, and more than anything, she wanted him to love her too.

Chapter 38 Stephen stared down at Hannah, so small beneath him, so naturally beautiful, her hair spread out like a halo. Lying there in the sunlight. Open to him, trusting him. Exposed. Not just her body, but her heart. And his own stopped and stuttered at what he’d just said. He’d practically asked her if she loved him. Why? Because, even if he didn’t know his own feelings, he was desperate to know hers? So he could run or…not run? He didn’t know what to say. What he should or even could say. So he crushed his mouth over hers, desperate to pour out everything he felt and couldn’t say. He took in the rapid rise and fall of her chest, her pulse thundering under his lips at her throat. He saw the undisguised emotion when he filled her in one deep stroke. Felt it himself.

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Everything about being with her was so fucking perfect, so right, he was raw with it. Her eyes started to glaze and her lids fluttered. “Don’t close your eyes.” And with her eyes locked with his, he claimed her and she let him, holding nothing back. Giving everything. She arched against him, fingers in his hair, heels digging into the back of his thighs. He kissed her gently, then watched her face when she came around him. Still so innocent of her own pleasure, her own desires. But even innocent, she tore him apart. The way her eyes looked deep into his. The way she sighed his name. Like he was the only one. Her only one. He buried his face in her neck, drove one last time, and came so hard he thought he must be leaving a part of himself inside her. His heart. More likely his very soul. —

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Stephen followed the long, winding drive through Pleasant View Cemetery. Long oaks stretched across, offering shade and companionship to those who came to sit beside their loved ones. A squirrel darted out and he slammed on his brakes, sending the flowers on the seat next to him crashing to the floorboard. He retrieved them, twelve red roses wrapped in plastic. His usual offering. A part of him had thought to send Hannah flowers. But since today was the fifth anniversary of his fiancée’s death, another part of him spoke louder. The part that said he should feel guilty. And he did. For his time with Hannah, because he didn’t regret it, and even more, for not wanting to come today. It hurt to come here, but wasn’t it supposed to? He pulled over to the edge, parked, and got out. There were more dirt mounds every year. More tombstones. More flowers. He treaded lightly on the grass between them,

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passing names that had become as familiar to him as his own. He didn’t come so much anymore, but there’d been a time he’d come every day, sometimes more than once. Sometimes he’d stayed all night, more at home with the dead than the living. They seemed to understand him, didn’t ask for more than he could give. Sleeping. Silent. Echoing how he felt inside. Or how he used to feel, before a chance meeting at a grocery store. And the guilt crept in like dark mist. He walked a little farther, up a gentle rise, and found the one he’d come to see. He stared at the letters carved into gray stone that spelled out her name and the short time she’d spent in this world. Over the years, coming here had become more and more about nursing his anger and less about being close to her. He didn’t feel her here. Feared she was beginning to fade altogether. What did it say about him that

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her killers’ faces were still burned into his brain in high resolution? He remembered his fiancée as a happy-golucky girl. They’d both been like that. The golden couple, never thought a bad thing could happen. So different from Hannah, the bright sunny girl he’d fallen for who knew exactly how bad people could be. He leaned the forgotten bouquet against the stone, wondering if he should apologize for wanting to live again. For not wanting to be that man anymore that her death had left behind. Stephen dropped his chin to his chest, suddenly so weary he could barely stand under the weight of his own hatred. Maybe that was the problem. He’d never been able to separate the two. His rage and his grief. His love for Tracy and his hatred for her killers. He’d nursed it until his fury was a living, breathing thing, so much a part of him he was afraid of what might happen if he let it

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go. For too long it had been the only thing to keep him from crumpling into a pile of dust. The flowers slid onto their side and the cellophane flapped in the breeze. All this time, he thought he’d been healing, keeping himself contained and controlled. But he hadn’t been. Not until Hannah. The very one he’d feared would drag him back to a time when he most hated himself had slowly pulled him into her light. And he wanted to stay there. — Hannah held the phone against her ear as she wiped off the counter and talked to Mia on the other end. She’d called to check in, since they hadn’t gotten a chance to talk yesterday. “How are things with Stephen?” Mia asked. Ah. And now she figured they were getting to the real reason for the call. But she didn’t

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mind. It reminded her of a time long ago, when Mia had been more like a big sister. “Good. He actually left a little while ago, but he’s coming back with dinner.” He had an international conference call and was bringing takeout after. She peeked at the brownies in the oven and smiled, thinking how Stephen liked to describe the wicked things they could do with chocolate. “I haven’t talked to you alone since your trip.” Mia paused and Hannah could practically feel the give-me-details raised eyebrow. “It was good.” “And?” “And it was really good. We…well…you know.” “Yes. I know. I would ask how that went, but by the sound of your voice and the look on your face yesterday, I take it it was good.” “Better than good.” Hannah pulled the brownies from the oven. She liked them

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slightly gooey in the center. So did Stephen. Whom she’d expected by now. She brushed the curtains aside and realized there’d been a long pause. “Mia?” “That’s wonderful, Hannah. Really. I’m so happy for you. Proud of you.” “But?” “We’re friends, aren’t we? In addition to being patient, doctor?” “Of course.” “Okay. I’m speaking as a friend here, since you never had a mother to tell you these things. Not that I’m the only person you could talk to, but…I just want to say…it’s a big step, and it’s all moved pretty fast. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that, but this is your first relationship.” First man she’d kissed. First man to see her scars. First man she’d slept with. Lots of firsts. And onlys. “And girls tend to fall in love with their first. I know.” It was hard to

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tell if this new pain in her chest was love or her fear that Stephen might not love her back. “I’m not saying any of it’s wrong. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” Neither did she. She’d seen Mia and Stephen talking yesterday, hadn’t thought anything of it. Now she did. “Do you think I will? Did Stephen say something to you?” “Nothing, honey. Just…be careful.” Hannah checked out the window again and an odd light flickered through the trees. She felt a surge of relief at seeing Stephen’s headlights and stepped outside, thinking to end the call. The light danced. “What the— Oh my, God. The barn. It’s on fire.”

Chapter 39 Hannah cut off Mia’s warnings, telling her to call 911, then barely got her car in park before jumping out and sprinting toward the barn. One thing on her mind. Get the horses. The front was an impassable wall of flames. She changed course to check the back. Smoke poured through every crack and seam as she rounded the corner, but it wasn’t as bad here. She undid the latch, slid back the wide door, and was hit with a staggering blast of heat. The blaze crackled, the horses screamed and battered against the stalls holding them prisoner. “How many?” It was Lexie, shouting right beside her, barely audible over the roaring of burning wood.

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How many in the barn? She didn’t know, couldn’t think. Nothing to do but go stall to stall. “I’ll do this side,” she shouted, and stepped into hell. Hannah opened the first door she came to on her left, freeing Big Ben, who instinctively ran from the danger. She moved to the next one, squinting toward the front of the barn. Oh, God. It was a wall of flames moving toward her. They licked up the walls around the office, to the ceiling and across the beams. A destructive force, pushing choking smoke and searing heat ahead of it. The hungry flames were devouring everything in their path. The feed room across from the office was already engulfed. Once it got past there, it would reach the horses in the first stalls. Her heart beat out of control but her thoughts were clear. Start at the front. Work

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your way back. High-pitched whinnies pierced her ears as she ran past the animals. I’m coming back. It had only been a few seconds, and already smoke-induced tears poured from her eyes. The sounds of panicked horses tore at her heart. She opened the door of the first stall past the tack room, swatted Sugar’s rear, and the black mare took off in the direction of safety. Sixteen stalls, and not all held horses, but as hard as she tried, she couldn’t be sure which stalls were empty. Couldn’t accept the consequences if she skipped one and was wrong. She’d have to go side to side and try to beat the flames. Bits of fiery hay sprinkled the air until the entire building looked like the inside of a fire pit someone had just kicked. The stacked bales of hay had created a roaring inferno, and Hazel was right next door. Using the end of her shirt like a potholder, she flipped the

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hot metal latch and slid it back to free the frantic gray. That was two. No, three. The smoke had thickened to black and she worked only by feel, arms outstretched. She assumed Lexie was doing the same at the other end. She’d never been so hot, so suffocated. It was like someone had turned off the lights and turned up the heat. Her chest burned from trying not to breathe. Her hands moved, the rough wood scraping her palms, until they felt metal and another horse ran out, desperate to be free from a sudden threat he couldn’t comprehend. She hunched low instinctively, searching for a clear bit of air. Or maybe, remembering her brother Zach’s instructions. Stay low and get out. No matter what. I can’t. I won’t leave them. A beam crashed to her left in a stream of orange light. She wasn’t going to make it. Wasn’t going to get them all out. She flipped

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the latch on the nearest door, slid it back, and freed Lady, a boarding mare. And just in time. The fire in the neighboring stall caught the hay bedding in Lady’s and erupted, sending more burning bits into the air. She swiped at her arms and face and kept moving. With a quick glance back through teary eyes, she saw Lexie fighting the door to Roma’s stall. The stallion reared and battered against the door, unknowingly making it more difficult for the woman trying to save him. Hannah felt a second of relief when she stepped back and Roma emerged. Then she watched in slow motion as Lexie tried to get to the frantic horse turned in the right direction. Saw him rear, saw the woman go down. “Lexie!” Her scream went nowhere, only opened herself to hot smoke that seemed to charge straight down her throat.

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Hannah dropped to her knees and crawled to the other side, one pointless hand over her mouth, the other making wide sweeps along the ground searching for a body. Yelling for her was useless. She couldn’t drag in enough air and there was no way Lexie would hear her. Her hands met wood, telling her she’d made it to the other side. She turned right and crawled toward the back. Her lungs felt seared, her eyes burned like they’d been doused with hot pepper, and she couldn’t keep them open any longer. Didn’t matter. She couldn’t see anyway, couldn’t hear anything except the fire and the shrill cries of horses as the inferno grew over and around them. Starved for oxygen, her head started to buzz. What if Lexie was crawling on the other side looking for her? She had no way of knowing if her friend had already made it out. If she didn’t go now, there was a good chance she would burn on this floor.

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Would she pass out before the flames got her? Hooves pounded against wood near her head. There were more horses, but…she couldn’t think who, where, or which way to go. And Lexie. She pulled her legs under her and tried to crawl. The suffocating heat and black smoke pressed her back down. She couldn’t even drag in enough air to cough. After all the times she’d wanted to die, she now desperately wanted to live, but her mind was going dark. With her forehead resting on the ashstrewn floor, she took a second. Thought of her brothers, of Stephen. A strong hand grabbed her upper arm and jerked her up and off the concrete flooring. She reached out with her other hand as she was lifted and felt the thick, rough fabric of the protective jacket Zach wore. She coughed out Lexie’s name. Or tried to as she was thrown roughly over a shoulder, knocking the remaining air from her stomach.

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The relief was immediate, but her throat and chest burned like she’d swallowed fire. Maybe she had. She was lowered to her back on cool grass. Something covered her mouth and she made a weak attempt to push it away. “Lexie. She’s—” “They’ll get her out. Just relax. Breathe.” Zach. Zach was here. She tried again to tell him but couldn’t get enough breath to speak. Nauseous, she fought to sit up. Zach helped her roll to her side and she coughed until she thought a lung would come up. Lying back in the grass, she heard sirens, male voices shouting. And above it all, the roar of burning wood. Another figure emerged from the mouth of the barn. A man running, a body slumped over his shoulder. Lexie. “Is there anyone else in there?”

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She shook her head, then tried to croak out that she really didn’t know. “The horses.” She tried to get up again. “They’re all out,” Zach said, pushing her shoulders down. “We’ll round them up. Just relax.” Tears poured from her eyes, making them hurt even more. New voices and something different over her mouth. More sirens as water flowed in a giant stream high into the air. “You’re okay. I’ll be back.” She squinted after Zach. Everyone who wasn’t fighting the fire hovered around the other body on the ground.

Chapter 40 When the fire truck passed him ten minutes earlier, he didn’t think much of it. When the ambulance flew around him just three minutes later, he didn’t want to believe it, but he pressed his foot to the gas. When he followed the emergency vehicle through the gates, the empty sound of her unanswered phone was still ringing through his truck’s speakers. He didn’t remember stopping and getting out, just that he was running. Heart slamming against his ribs as he sprinted toward a nightmare. It seemed like hours for his eyes to track around, take in the scene. Seeing everything except what he was looking for. Flames thirty feet high lit up the night. Men’s voices shouted above a sound he wouldn’t have associated with a fire. Sparks

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flew, bright orange against the dark sky. Blue and red emergency vehicle lights spun over the entire scene. And above it all his repeating mantra. Don’t let her be in there. Would she have seen the fire from her house? Maybe not. Maybe she was at home, in bed. Hannah. Don’t let her be in there. His mind screamed her name. His throat was closed with absolute terror. Voice cut off. He had the random thought that this must be why people couldn’t scream in a nightmare. This is a nightmare. Would she go in there? For the horses? His stomach turned as his mind answered that question. Another ambulance bumped over the ground to his left, siren wailing, lights flashing into the chaos.

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Firemen yelled and pointed to the emergency technicians and he followed their line of sight to a body on the ground. And he ran. He reached her, dropped on weak knees beside her. “Hannah?” Her head turned and she lowered the mask that covered her nose and mouth. Her lips moved, but he couldn’t understand, or couldn’t hear, over the blood pounding in his own head. Moving. Alive. Was she hurt? Was she burned? He lifted a shaky hand and ran it over her hair, searched her face. The same face he’d looked into just hours ago, now covered with black soot except for the white lines tracking from the corners of her eyes. “Lexie.” She said the name and coughed so hard her small body strained off the ground. He helped her sit up, adjusted the oxygen mask over her mouth so that every time she wheezed, her lungs would fill.

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A paramedic rushed over. “We need to get you checked out at the second ambulance.” “Is she okay? The other—Lexie.” Stephen’s eyes landed on the figure lying still on the grass. “They’re working on her,” the woman said. “Can you walk?” “Yes.” She started to stand, but Stephen lifted her slight body into his arms. She’d been in that fire. She’d been in that fire. “I can walk.” He was literally shaking with fear. “Be quiet.” “The horses. I need—” She broke off in a fit of coughing. “Someone else will have to take care of the horses,” Stephen said. “Got them out, but I don’t…know where they are. I should—” “No. You shouldn’t.”

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Another car flew into what already looked like an emergency parking lot. Nick flung open the driver’s side door and shot out. “Hannah!” Stephen saw Nick’s stricken expression as he immediately started for the ambulance where they were strapping the still body of a woman to a stretcher. He knew what Nick felt because he was still feeling it. And wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy. “Nick!” Stephen yelled over the chaos. Nick looked back in bewilderment and took a second to stop the race to what he thought was his sister before changing gears and direction. “I’m okay.” She strained to speak when Nick reached them. Nick stared another second, then his eyes met Stephen’s. “She’s not hurt,” Stephen told him. “It’s Lexie.”

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Nick’s face had gone from terror to relief and now a bit of guilt as he looked back toward the paramedics loading the body into the ambulance. “Come on. You should get checked out.” Nick reached for his sister. “I’ve got her,” Stephen told him. An internal battle played out over Nick’s hard face as he looked at his sister. He squeezed the back of his neck, then he brought his eyes to Stephen’s and a kind of understanding passed between them. “I’ll make sure Lexie’s sisters are called. Talk to Zach.” Hannah nodded and Stephen was walking. — Stephen carried Hannah through the house, his house. He’d wanted her safe and somehow, in his mind, that equated to getting her

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away from there. He needed to be in control, and that was here. “I can walk,” she repeated for the third time. “Forget it.” He stood her in his bathroom and stripped her blackened clothes, every thread reminding him where she’d been. What could have happened beating at him as he helped her shower off the worst of it. “Is the water too hot?” Her skin was bright red in little places on her arms and face. Just seeing them made him sick. Proof she’d been inside that burning inferno. “No. It feels good.” When she was finished, he plucked her from his shower and wrapped her in an oversize towel. He patted the drops of water from her fragile skin, thankful for the first time that his housekeeper had gone for the feminine fluff.

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He kissed her legs as he dried them, her back, her shoulders. He stood and saw her eyes welling with tears, her bottom lip trembling. “Come here.” He caught a tear with his finger, then kissed her damp cheek. Slender arms came tight around his waist. It was hitting her now. God knows it was hitting him. “Sit down.” His throat was raw, his voice jagged. But it wouldn’t compare to hers. He filled a glass of water, pushed it into her hand. Hannah sat where he directed on the side of the tub and caught a glimpse of herself in his mirror. “Oh my gosh.” “Yes. I know.” “No wonder you look so…” Terrified? He left her side for two seconds to get the ointment from his first-aid box in the closet. “It won’t burn,” he said, opening the ointment. With trembling fingers, he dabbed soothing burn cream on a dozen little places where hot ashes had singed her skin.

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One at her temple, several across her cheeks and arms. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured you in my bathroom, naked and near that tub.” A ghost of a smile crossed her lips as he’d wanted. “I was thinking more along the lines of bubble bath.” He finished the last and kissed her forehead. “Another time.” “You never brought me here before.” “No.” He returned the ointment to the box. “I’ve never brought any woman here.” But he could have brought Hannah. Had no problem with her being here. So why hadn’t he? Their eyes met in the mirror. There were questions there, but she didn’t ask and he didn’t answer. He couldn’t, not now. Not with his insides still twisted, unsure he would ever get over seeing that fire and her body lying in the grass beside it. He could have lost her.

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Drops of water slipped from the ends of her hair down her arms and she shivered. “Come on. Let’s get you dry and into bed.” When she was seated on the edge, he pulled a T-shirt over her head. He draped a blanket around her shoulders, and rubbed her hair dry with another towel until the ends were no longer dripping. “That’s enough.” He drew back the covers, ushered her to climb in. When he had the blanket pulled up and around them both, he gathered her against him. Wrapped her in his arms as close and tight as he could. He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head tucked under his chin, thinking about what could have happened. And what he’d been doing, where he’d been. If he’d been there, she never would have gotten within a hundred yards of that fire. The fear when he’d seen her on the ground had sucked the air from his lungs, knocked the breath right out of him. But he got a

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similar breathless feeling when he made love to her; when he watched her walk into a room; watched her eat, or ride, or work with the kids. She shivered again and curled deeper into his chest. It didn’t escape him that he’d spent the majority of the past five years imagining what life would have been like if a certain woman hadn’t died. Now he lay here while a hard rain beat on the skylight above his bed, wondering how he would live if Hannah had. Maybe he could love her without destroying them both. Maybe he already did.

Chapter 41 Hannah woke slowly and stretched, feeling every sore spot. The night before came back to her. The fire. Stephen doctoring her, holding her, looking edgier than she’d ever seen him. She rolled on the smooth chocolatebrown sheets. Stephen’s bed, but she was alone. She took in his room. Dark beige walls and carved black wood under a high ceiling. The skylight above the bed, letting in the morning. There were voices at the front door and she strained to hear. Stephen’s and a woman’s. Lexie. She rushed out just in time to see him closing his front door. “Who was that?” “No one.” “It was someone.”

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He crossed the room in quick strides and laid his hands on her shoulders. Fear gripped her chest and her mind raced to the worst. “Tell me.” “You’re right. I’m sorry. It was just business. I already called the hospital. Lexie’s stable. Improved.” “Okay.” She let out the breath she’d been holding. Took another. “Okay. I need to go there.” “I’ll drive you.” She touched the soft cotton of Stephen’s Tshirt hanging to her knees. “I have to go home first. I need clothes.” “I like you in that.” She tried to smile, but the fire and the fear invaded. “No. I need to go home. I need to see the horses. I need to see Winnie. She’s probably scared and I just left last night and…”

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“Hey.” His hands moved up to cup her neck. She felt her burning eyes fill with tears. “I’ll get my car and…” “Shh.” He kissed her soft and sweet, giving her something wonderful to replace the awful. Then he didn’t say anything for several seconds, just studied her like he was trying to make a decision. Finally, he took her face gently and pressed another kiss to her lips. “Give me a second to change. You want some water?” “I can get it.” “Okay. I’ll be right back.” She wandered through the massive Aframe she hadn’t noticed last night. It was a work of art, all redwood and glass. A masterpiece on the side of a mountain. She’d never been here before. Hadn’t really thought about it, or why. She had the horses to take care of, he had a business to

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run. But she thought about it now as she walked through, passing a series of prints on the walls. All buildings. Singapore. Dubai. Hong Kong. She wondered if they were all his. She ran a hand along a wooden bookcase, coming to a picture of a striking blonde laughing into the camera, blue water behind her. Perfectly gorgeous in a tiny bikini, something she’d never wear, showing off miles of perfectly sun-kissed skin, something she’d never do. “I’m ready.” Startled, she bobbled the photo, trying to put it back, and he took it from her hands. “Your fiancée?” “Yes.” “She was beautiful.” He looked at it a moment, then set it back in its place. “Come on. Let’s go.”

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He’d skipped a shower and thrown on jeans and a T-shirt. He’d have to come back to get ready for work, she thought, walking out to his truck. For some reason that seemed significant, like her mind was thinking of so many things, she couldn’t weed out the important from the unimportant. His truck smelled like smoke when she climbed inside and it turned her stomach with the blast of reality. The barn had burned. The horses had barely gotten out. They could have died. Lexie could have. She could have. “You’re missing work,” she said as he slid in beside her and turned the key. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll have to go into the office for a while, but just to clear my schedule. Cancel any trips.” He reached across and took her hand. “We’ll get this sorted out.” She nodded, still completely confused about what had happened, why, and how it could all be sorted.

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“You need to eat something.” His fingers clenched around the steering wheel. “I should have made you eat something, damn it. You never even ate dinner.” “Neither did you.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “I’m fine. I’ll eat something before I leave.” Her mind was a jumble of thoughts as they drove. She needed to call the owners of the horses she boarded. Tell them what happened. They were her responsibility and they could have died. It made her sick. She’d need to call out a vet to look them over. “I’ll check on insurance,” he went on. “Try to get that moving. In the meantime I’ll get someone out there to build something temporary. Hell, I’ll build it myself.” He sounded angry, but in charge. All she could do was nod, with the lump in her throat threatening to choke her. Because it might not matter. It might all be taken from

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her anyway. In a way she felt like it already had been. She needed clothes, didn’t even have on pants, so Stephen drove straight to her cabin. The drive through the woods was interminable and her heart hurt. He pulled to a stop and she opened the door, ready to jump out, but at the last minute leaned over and kissed him. As bad as it was, it was easier because of him. “Thank you.” She grabbed the door handle to jump down and her bare foot brushed against something on the floorboard on her way out. Thinking it might be something he needed, she reached for it before it fell. A rose. A single red rose broken off at the stem. A little shriveled around the edges but not dry. Something pricked at the back of her mind as she stared at it, unable to let it go.

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New truck. One rosebud. No flowers. Stephen cleared his throat. “I went to Tracy’s grave yesterday. My fiancée.” Her brain was already so full and twisted up but…Tracy. Trace. Her heart fell, crashed to the bottom of her stomach. “I took flowers.” She made herself meet his eyes because he sounded like he’d done something wrong, and he hadn’t. “That was a good thing to do. I’ve um…I’ve got to change and…” The rose dropped from her fingers and onto the seat. “I’ll talk to you later.” She closed the truck door and ran. Got inside, and thanked God twice when she heard the sound of him driving away. Because she couldn’t have held back the tears any longer. Tracy. Trace. His entire company. Everything he wanted. Everything that he lived for, that had saved him.

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She’d been saved by a place. Stephen had been saved by the memory of the woman he loved. Maybe still did.

Chapter 42 Stephen drove away from her feeling like he’d been kicked in the chest. Still raw after last night and now…that bruised look in her bloodshot eyes killed him. Was it just the fire? Her worry for Lexie? No. The way she’d picked up that rose. The way she’d looked at it, then at him with understanding. But she didn’t understand anything. He went home, showered, dressed, and headed to work, his mind circling the issues. There were things he needed to take care of. Meetings to cancel or reschedule. Hannah would need him this week and he’d be there. And he’d do something about this damn land requisition. He wondered what the city’s stance would be now, after the fire.

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But more than anything was the way they’d left things. He couldn’t let her think…whatever it was she thought about Tracy, because that wasn’t it. He loved her. He loved Hannah. He’d known it, wasn’t sure why the words hadn’t come out sooner. Maybe because he’d fought it for so long. At the last second he turned right instead of left toward the city. Screw it. He’d see her now. — Stephen parked his truck and got out, the smell of charred wood hitting him in the face. Seeing it in the light of day was…not worse, but sadder. What had once been serene now looked like a mini–war zone. The front of the barn was open to the elements, the roof partially gone. After the scene last night he was surprised by how much of the structure still stood.

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The ground he walked across was marred and torn by heavy fire truck wheels. The paddock fence to the right of the barn was partially broken by the same. Winnie came across the lower pasture, blond mane and tail blowing around her caramel body. Thank God she hadn’t been hurt. He imagined Hannah out there, flying across the field, her hair flowing behind her. A white light against the backdrop of the world, and yet sometimes…she seemed barely there, like she could blend right into the sunset. Like if he blinked she could be gone. He knew what it was to blink and someone be gone. He leaned his forearms against the wooden rail, dropping his head with the weight of the thought. He didn’t want to lose again. “Hey.” Stephen whipped around to find Luke, wearing a tool belt and carrying a two-byfour.

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“You looking for Hannah?” “Well, I’m sure as hell not looking for you,” Stephen said, joking. Luke grinned. “I figured. She’s not here. She went to the hospital to check on Lexie.” Of course. If he’d thought, he’d have known she’d be at the hospital. But he’d wanted to see her now. Wanted to touch her and hold her now. “You need some help?” “From you, playboy? You’re dressed for a boardroom, not a barn.” “Yeah.” He smiled down at his black suit pants, his dress shoes. “I just…” “Wanted to see her. I get it.” Stephen nodded. “She just texted me she was going by the feed store. Should be back in a couple of hours.” Stephen glanced at his watch. He wanted to talk to her, ached to tell her how he felt, but he also needed to touch base with Dave

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before his partner caught a plane. “Tell her I came by and I’ll be back. Tell her I had to take care of something but I need to talk to her.” “Sure, man. Or you could call her.” He could, but…damn, he wanted to see her. Look in her eyes. Besides, he had a few more things to take care of. “This needs to be done in person.” Luke shrugged. “Whatever.” — “Hey, man. What’s up?” Dave poked his head in the doorway to Stephen’s office. Stephen pushed aside the contract he’d been trying to review as Dave entered. “Hey.” “You look like shit. Again.” “There was a fire last night at Hannah’s barn.” “Damn. Was anyone hurt?”

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“Lexie, a woman who works at the barn. They both went in to get the horses.” He shook his head. “I think she’s going to be okay. Severe smoke inhalation. She’s in the hospital.” “And Hannah?” “She’s fine. Shaken, but fine.” Dave nodded slightly like he was taking in the information. “The horses?” “All survived. Thank God.” Because that would have killed her. “Hmm. Well, that’s too bad. Listen, I need to talk to you about the Carson-Maxwell deal. They’re not quite ready to move, but I think if I gave them more numbers, worked some projections maybe three additional years out, they’d come on board.” “I don’t know.” Stephen blinked at the sudden subject change. “Give me a couple of days to look into it.” “I’m on it and it needs to be done now.”

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“I said I’d look into it,” he countered with more heat than he’d meant. Fuck. “Sorry. I’ve got a lot going on right now.” “Yeah, I can see that.” Frustrated, he tapped the keyboard, suddenly remembering another meeting he needed to cancel. He hammered out an email for Dee before realizing Dave was still standing there. And staring at him. “Was there something else?” “Was there something else?” Dave’s face twisted. “Was there something else? I’m your partner, not your fucking assistant that you dismiss when you’re busy.” “I didn’t mean it like that.” “The hell you didn’t.” Stephen leveled a gaze at Dave, studied him. There was something in his eyes, something maybe he’d seen just a flash of before, but now it burned hot and steady. “You have something to say?”

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“Are you about to blow a major deal because you’ve got a lot going on?” “What the hell is your problem? Is it still about Hannah’s property? I told you no on that because—” “You told me no? Really?” Dave’s laugh held no amusement. “You told me no like I’m a fucking five-year-old? Who do you think kept this place going while your head was buried in a bottle?” Okay. Stephen rubbed at his forehead. So that’s where they were going. “And I owe you.” “You more than owe me. You were useless to this company! Then when you finally get your shit together you come back in here like you own the place.” “That’s because I do,” he said clearly, making sure there was no misunderstanding. “You bastard. You’re going to throw that in my face?”

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“I wasn’t, no.” Stephen gave him a cool stare. “Not until you brought it up.” Dave’s voice rose and he pointed at himself. “I helped build this as much as you did!” Not true and Dave knew it, which made his outburst even more absurd. But Dave had always been after power, fed off it. It had served Trace Development well, but he’d been foolish to think a man like that wouldn’t turn around at some point. Take a bite out of the hand that fed him. “So what? You want a raise?” Not that he’d ever get it. He hadn’t built a Fortune 500 company by rewarding employee dissonance. Not even from his second-in-charge. “I busted my ass,” Dave went on. “Covered yours. But you always come out on top, don’t you? Women line up to fuck you. Men shit themselves to shake your hand.” Dave paced around the room before coming back to Stephen’s desk. “How do you think your little cowgirl would like to know what you’re really

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like, who you really are? I mean her of all people.” Stephen stood, struggling for control at Dave’s mention of Hannah. “Yeah, I did a little research. Too bad about your girl. Such a tragedy.” Dave tsked like someone had dropped an ice cream. “You do seem to be a magnet for tortured women.” Dave casually crossed to the bar. “I wonder how comfortable she’d be around you if she knew the truth. After all she’s been through.” “What truth is that?” Something inside him twisted painfully and a heavy feeling settled in his gut, because he knew. “That you’re a sick fuck. That you’ll never get over losing the one woman you’ll ever love. That you’d rather maim and torture her killers than have her back.” Dave said it all calmly, gladly.

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There’d been a few times he hadn’t drunk alone, but with Dave. And a few times he’d let his mind spill open, let all his thoughts and perversions spill out. And yes. He’d said all that. Even meant it in that moment. “And you’d tell her?” Dave gave a sick laugh. “Nah, what the fuck do I care.” When Stephen said nothing, Dave smiled, gave him some kind of mock salute, and left. Stephen let out a heavy breath. How could he explain to Hannah that the hatred that boiled inside was a living, breathing thing? Something that had grown until it had a life of its own because he hadn’t wanted to face the loss? Because that’s what it came down to. He’d chosen anger instead of grief until it hadn’t been a choice anymore. How could he tell her all of that and in the same breath tell her he loved her?

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He wasn’t the man she needed. Worse, he was afraid he was exactly the man she didn’t need. And he was terrified that when she found out the truth, she would agree.

Chapter 43 The sounds and scents that would normally comfort Hannah were gone, replaced with seared wood and wet ash. The rain that had been a blessing left a soggy, smoky mess. The acrid odor of the melted plastic barrels that once held sweet feed added another layer. Everything felt sad and ruined. Her cell rang again and she glanced at the unknown number. She’d been on the phone all morning. Answering calls. Making calls. Reporters looking for the how and the why, owners wanting arrangements to retrieve their horses. Roma had already been picked up. Lady was scheduled for later today. Everything was falling apart. There’d been no feed left to salvage. Only a few pieces of tack left. But the last four stalls closest to the back still stood solid. Zach had

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been out, verified that what was left was structurally sound. That was something at least. And with no other clear direction, she’d thrown herself into cleaning. After an hour the stalls still looked pretty much the same, the walls still black with smoke. Exhaustion crept in and her entire body ached like it hadn’t in a very long time. Gazing out the small window to the low pasture, she watched Winnie and felt the tears gather along with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. It could have been so much worse. She’d go for a ride later, get away from the entire place that smelled like the smoky remains of an abandoned campfire. And from the memories of last night. Had it really only been a day since she and Stephen made love out there beyond the trees? When she’d lain with her head on his chest while the wind played through the leaves above them? A breath away from

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saying she loved him? Did he still love someone else? Would he always? Trace. Tracy. She didn’t want to be jealous of a dead woman. Couldn’t blame him. Didn’t blame him. The flower doesn’t have to mean anything. So why was she so afraid it did? “Hey, sis.” She turned at the sound of Luke’s voice, forcing a weak smile and rubbing at her right forearm. “You’re doing too much.” “What else can I do?” He stood with her, scanning the depressing remains. “You’re holding up.” She was trying. “You’ve held up under all this. And the land thing too.” He slung an arm around her shoulders, squeezed. “You really are stronger than any of us gave you credit for.”

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Hannah smiled up at her brother, warmed by his sudden praise. “I’m taking off, but I’ll be back.” “Thanks.” He stepped away and she picked up her shovel. “Oh, yeah. Your boyfriend was out looking for you earlier. Said he’d be back.” She wondered why Stephen had come out so soon, knowing she was going to the hospital. “He’s turned out to be okay.” Luke turned back, gave her a wink. “You’re okay too.” — Two more hours of scooping ashes and she was done. Past done. Hannah dropped her head in exhaustion. The sound of a car drew her attention. Not Stephen’s new truck. Not one of her brothers. She stepped out and watched the doors

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of a cherry-red sports car open simultaneously. The driver worked with Stephen, Dave something. A woman exited the passenger side. The same one who’d wobbled in her heels to hurry Stephen along the first time he’d been out here. The two murmured between themselves until they got close. “Dave Pietro.” He stuck out his hand, saw Hannah’s, black with soot, and dropped it back to his side. “Stephen’s partner at Trace Development.” “Yes. I remember. Hi.” “I don’t think we’ve formally met,” the woman said. “Though I believe I’ve seen you once before. The day Stephen and I drove out to look at the property? Camila Tovarez, legal counsel for Trace Development.” Drove out to look at the property?

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“I was sorry to hear about your trouble,” Dave said, interrupting her thoughts as he turned and took in the mess. “Thank you.” “Though it could actually be seen as a good thing, silver linings and all that.” Huh? “How could it be a good thing?” He faced her, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses, as were the woman’s. “Less to bulldoze, less cost. And good for you as well.” “I’m sorry. I’m not following you.” “Well, the insurance. It’s not much, a pitiful amount really, and technically it should go to us since it was under contract before the fire. But we’re willing to defer to you. Help you relocate.” His smug smile said he was pleased with himself, though she didn’t understand why. “Under contract?” “Well, yes. You did know this property had fallen under intestacy laws and would be sold

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by the city? And you knew— Wait a minute. Stephen didn’t tell you?” Hannah wiped the damp hair back from her forehead. It was hot, she was tired, and she wasn’t processing. “Tell me what?” “Shit. I’m sorry. He should’ve told you. We bought the property, signed off on the deal weeks ago, though it just went through this morning. Frankly, I was surprised it didn’t cause trouble between you.” Stephen bought the land? Stephen bought the— “You look surprised, darling,” the woman crooned. “What did you think he was doing out here?” Her fingers still gripped the rake, but she didn’t feel it. Everything in her focused on making sense of something that made no sense. She shook her head against the faint buzzing. “No. Stephen said they wouldn’t sell. He said we’d change their minds.”

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Dave laughed softly. “Yes, well, even I was surprised at the lengths he went to, involving himself with your little horse fair. Gotta give him credit, though. You know Stephen.” He smiled, speaking to both women now. “Always gets what he wants. The man just doesn’t lose.” Camila looked pointedly at her. “In this case, it was the land, honey. Not you.” “It took some work, though the information you provided was helpful, maybe even essential,” Dave said. “The fact that there was no actual will.” This wasn’t right. She wanted to tell him to go to hell, but she couldn’t move, had no choice but to listen. “It’s going to be an airport,” Dave went on. “That’s in the contract, stipulation of sale and all that.” He waved it away like she wouldn’t understand the details. “Stephen will head up development and design. I think it’s just the kind of thing he could get

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creative with, don’t you? I know he’s been looking into new challenges, beyond buildings.” She took a shaky step back, remembering Stephen’s soft bedroom eyes one morning as they’d talked about the future and those exact words had come out of his mouth. “But I just saw him.” “That’s right,” Camila said, swatting a fly. “Did you sleep well last night? I always sleep like a baby in that big bed under the skylight.” But he’d never brought anyone to his house before. Isn’t that what he’d said? Her hand tightened around the wooden handle. “But he was just out here. He wanted to…” Oh, God. He wanted to talk to her. Needed to talk to her. In person. Dave adjusted his glasses. “It was signed just this morning. Ink’s not even dry. He must have wanted to tell you himself.”

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This morning. The business at the door. This woman who knew she’d been there. Who said she’d also slept in that bed. She was going to be sick. Her mouth was so dry she couldn’t swallow, the air hot, and sweat slid down her spine. She opened her hand, let the rake fall to the ground and started walking. Faster and faster, not looking back.

Chapter 44 Not true. That’s what Hannah repeated to herself the entire way to Stephen’s office. She’d find him. She’d ask him and he’d tell her it wasn’t true. Because she couldn’t have fallen for an illusion again. She couldn’t have. She parked, and numbly entered his building. Trace. His glass tower. His most important thing. A tribute to the woman he loved. Was there anything he wouldn’t do to make it stronger? She scanned the ornate placard for his name and floor, walking past the receptionist as if in a dream. But she wasn’t disconnected. She was painfully aware. She followed the long hallway, instinctively going all the way to the end.

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An older lady at a desk called to her. “Ma’am?” His office would be the biggest. “Excuse me? Do you have an appointment?” Hannah kept walking. “I’m looking for the person in charge.” “Well, that’s Mr. McKinney, but—” Hannah didn’t hear the rest. Stephen was in charge. He had the power here. He would know the truth and she’d talk to him and her chest would stop feeling like it was being crushed. Dave was lying. She knew it, had gotten a bad feeling from him the first time she met him. “Hannah.” Stephen rose behind a giant desk, looking surprised. An entire wall of glass served as a backdrop behind him. He’d figured a way to keep it from the city. He’d bought it for her. That’s what he’d wanted to tell her. It would be just like him.

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He’d smile, a little embarrassed, and she would thank him and kiss him and— “Is it true?” He stilled where he was coming around to meet her. Why was he leaving so much space between them? He never wanted space between them. Why didn’t he touch her? “Dave came to see me. Tell me it’s not true.” “Hannah.” The muscles in his face tensed, his expression pure misery. “Is it true?” “He told you.” Three words, spoken softly, evenly, and her heart broke into a thousand pieces. Just shattered right there on the office floor like a piece of glass. He didn’t even look surprised. She couldn’t speak. Her head spun. So when Zach appeared in the office doorway, it took her confused mind a second to wonder why.

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“Hannah.” Her brother’s voice was firm and he held out his hand. “Come here.” She shook her head. At her brother. At the truth written across Stephen’s face. Just standing there, eyes fixed on hers. Sad. Sorry. And guilty. “Hannah,” Zach repeated, his voice unusually hard. Not Zach’s sweet-natured, all-isgood face. Why was he even here? Stephen finally spoke. “This isn’t a good time, Zach.” Zach bolted forward, exploding. “Shut the fuck up!” Already shocked, she jerked at Zach’s reaction. Then she noticed more people in the hallway. Another man in a blue uniform stepped into the doorway, dressed like her brother except for the shield on his pocket. “Zach? What are you doing?”

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“Hannah.” His hand was still outstretched, his face etched with concern like she’d never seen it. “The fire was arson. I’m sorry.” “What?” Her already spinning mind spun faster. “Who would do that?” Stephen took a step toward her. “Hannah—” “Don’t you talk to her, you piece of shit!” Zach was in his face. “You own her land! You bought her land, you motherfucker!” Zach lunged, but two of his fellow firefighters grabbed him before he made contact. Another man, one with a badge, took Stephen by the arm. “You’re wanted for questioning in an arson investigation. You’re not under arrest at this time but you are required to come with us.” “Get off me.” Stephen jerked away, using his size and strength to easily shake him loose, and catching him in the face with his elbow in the process.

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The man came back harder, Zach with him, her brother erupting into a string of curses and threats. Her pulse pounded in her ears. The room was like a house of mirrors and everywhere she looked something was wrong. Stephen with both powerful arms locked behind his back. Zach losing his cool. Men she’d known for years from the firehouse standing in the middle of Stephen’s office. “Okay! All right!” Stephen stopped fighting against the men’s hold. “Take care of Hannah,” he said, looking at Zach. “Someone needs to stay with her.” “Fuck you,” Zach spat. Then Stephen’s hot, brown eyes pinned hers until that was the only thing she could see. But she felt like she wasn’t seeing him at all. The blood drained from her face and she felt herself sway. “I didn’t set that fire, Hannah. You know that.”

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No. She didn’t know anything. Not about him. Not about herself. She didn’t know people at all. Seconds passed; the only thing marking time was the pounding of her heart and the pain of it being broken.

Chapter 45 A warm drizzle dampened the steps of the courthouse as Hannah walked stiffly past a horde of reporters. Numb and unseeing, eyes straight ahead, nestled protectively between her brothers. Luke’s hand tightened around hers, Nick’s arm at her back. Cameras flashed, reporters lobbed questions. A crowd of more than fifty had turned out to show public support for her. But, not wanting the public to think they had anything to do with trying to burn her out, the city was doing its best to put their own spin on things. And doing a good job, as was evident by the cruelly aimed questions. Did you know Stephen McKinney owned Trace Development? Did you know they wanted your property?

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Did you know the horses were in the barn when you set it on fire? She felt every hit and realized she wasn’t numb after all, only wished she was. This evidentiary hearing would determine if the state had enough to move forward with charges against Stephen and/or Dave. Or herself. She had no doubt she was under suspicion as well. The sudden cold air of the government building had her hunching deeper into her sweater. Luke peeled off to speak to Zach talking off to the side with the fire chief. Nick led her to a cushioned bench outside Courtroom Two. She sat, her legs weak and watery. “Wait here.” Ridiculous that her nerves were more about seeing Stephen for the first time in two weeks than about taking the stand. Her empty hands brushed at her sides, no

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pockets. She pulled a piece of hair around her finger. “Ready?” Nick appeared beside her. “Yes.” She didn’t have a choice. “You’re still holding up,” Luke said. “It’ll be over soon.” Her brothers had faith in her. That was something. The room was oddly odorless. Not musty. Not clean. The thirty or so rows of wooden benches were half full. She took a seat in the third row on the right. The judge’s platform was still empty. The jury box was also and would remain so. No one was on trial here today, not formally, but witnesses and all involved parties would be called. She’d already been warned their defense attorney would be allowed to ask her questions. That even though she wasn’t accused, it might feel like she was. There was a spotlight shining on this entire affair, thanks to her, trying to make the city

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out as the bad guy, and they wanted a swift end. The ADA and defense attorneys sat at opposite tables both with files and folders. Camila, the woman Stephen had brought out with him that first time, probably the one he’d mentioned a few weeks ago, sat behind them next to Dave. Hannah covered her mouth and swallowed hard against the sudden urge to vomit. Had that been part of the plan too? His own personal lawyer whom he’d slept with? Was still sleeping with? She was going to be sick. She stood, tripped over Nick’s feet trying to get past. A second before she stepped into the aisle, her eyes flicked up and the bottom seemed to drop out. Stephen, striding purposefully down the aisle. His face hard and dangerous, and still made her heart turn over with want. Her eyes met his for a fraction of a second before she stumbled back into her seat. The

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shock at seeing him knocked back the nausea. Nick put his arm around her. “You okay?” No. She wasn’t okay. And she remained not okay for the next two hours as the depositions were read. The crime was described to everyone by the fire marshal. The judge asked questions, on and on, repetitive and tiresome. She willed it to be over. Her gaze fell on the rail dividing the benches from the front. She wondered if Stephen had been in a courtroom since that day he’d told her about. Even after everything, her heart hurt for him. The ADA spoke to the judge, read the facts aloud. Barrels of fire accelerant had been found in the woods near Stephen’s house, which had led to his original questioning, but it wasn’t holding up. No fingerprints, no record of sale, and even the fire chief admitted they couldn’t be certain it was the exact accelerant used.

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Didn’t mean he was innocent. A lot of people, including her brothers, were convinced that Trace Development’s somewhat devious buying scheme made him suspect. Then she was called. Nick stood to let her out. He gave her hand a last squeeze. “Don’t look at him.” With her pulse thundering in her ears, she walked slowly to the front of the room. She wiped her damp palms on her skirt, then swore to tell the whole truth. The courtroom was daunting from this position. All eyes on her, bracing for whatever question they threw at her. Way worse than it looked on TV. It took everything she had not to look at Stephen. He was her support. He was the one who made her feel strong. It killed her not to reach for it now. The slightest turn of her head, a tiny shift of her eyes would lead them to his. But no matter how much she avoided him, she still felt his burning gaze. So hot she was

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sweating. For two weeks all she could see when she thought of him was his face when she’d asked for the truth. His silence and the answer in his eyes couldn’t have been more clear. Once again she’d misjudged, only this time it hadn’t been her bones crushed, but her heart. The assistant district attorney came first. Zach had explained that because the city had taken legal ownership of the land before the fire, they needed to pin this arson on someone and get out of the shit storm before they got dirtied. And the media, fickle as a horny rabbit, was clawing for a story. Love gone wrong, or big government burning out a citizen over a land dispute. They’d swing whichever way proved juiciest. The ADA was a tallish woman, mid-forties. Her black skirt and jacket were offset by a Christmas-red blouse. She smiled at

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Hannah, asked if she was comfortable, and the questions started, easy at first. What did she do, how long had she been there. Though she was careful not to lead Hannah into saying anything that might shine a sympathetic spotlight. “When did you first learn that Trace Development had purchased the property?” “About two weeks ago.” She sat perfectly still on the edge of the hard seat, held her hands tightly together. The urge to touch her hair was strong. She focused on her brothers, all suited up and serious. Took comfort from Nick’s nod, shoring her up, silently telling her she could do this. “And who told you?” “Dave Pietro, Stephen’s…um, Mr. McKinney’s partner.” “That man?” She pointed to where Dave sat on the other side of Camila. “Yes.”

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“And what did he tell you?” “Just that it had been sold, and his company had bought it.” “Were you surprised?” “Yes.” Surprised. Shocked. Heartbroken. “Did he say anything else to you?” “He said…” It was one thing to be gullible, another to sit and tell a roomful of people. She took a breath, and another. “He said he was surprised I didn’t know. That he was surprised Stephen hadn’t told me himself. But then he laughed and said,”—she swallowed and looked down—“he said he really wasn’t, because Stephen always got what he wanted. That no matter what, he didn’t lose.” There was a muttered “son of a bitch” from across the room. Stephen’s voice. But Hannah kept her eyes trained on the woman in front of her. “That’s all the questions I have, Your Honor.”

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Next came Stephen’s attorney, Andrew Stark. Tough. Relentless. She’d been warned his goal would be to throw a dark enough shadow over her that by the end of it the judge would have no choice but to throw out the case against Stephen. She’d thought she was prepared. “When did you meet Stephen McKinney?” “About two months ago.” “About the same time you learned that the property on which you currently reside and work was being absorbed by the city?” “I guess.” “Yes or no?” She looked down at her fingers, one hand gripping the other, and tried to relax. “Yes.” “And how long after you met before you began dating Mr. McKinney?” “Um…we went to dinner that night.” “That same night you met?” The lawyer glanced up at the judge, then back to her.

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“Pretty fast for someone who up to that point had had little contact with men?” Her already pounding heart seemed to beat all over the place now. A painful and irregular bumping in her chest. “And how long was it before you were in his bed?” Oh God. She glanced quickly at her brothers, then away, searching for a safe place to look. There was none. She was alone. Her heart raced and she forced herself to breathe. Did she have to answer? Andrew Stark was just getting started. “Isn’t it true that you began a sexual relationship with the CEO of Trace Development in order to sway his intentions or possibly convince him to buy the property in question for you personally?” She shook her head. “No.” “This is ridiculous!” Nick stood, shouting, and was quickly silenced.

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“Another outburst and you’ll be removed,” the judge warned, and Nick sat. “Isn’t it true that you knew of Mr. McKinney’s intention?” “No.” “You expect this court to believe that after twelve years of living a practically solitary life, you just happened to slip into bed with the man set on buying your property, excuse me, not your property, the city’s property?” “I don’t know.” “You don’t know if we should believe you?” “Yes.” “Excuse me?” She bit into her lip as her eyes filled with hot tears. “I didn’t know he wanted it.” “Really?” He looked at the judge again, huffed out a fake laugh. “Did Mr. McKinney ever come out to see the land?” “Yes.” “Did he ask you about the property?”

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“Yes.” “Did he ask to go out and look at the property?” “Yes.” Every yes was another nail in her heartbreaking reality. “And why did you think he would do that?” Her bottom lip trembled and suddenly she couldn’t not look at Stephen. He sat to her right, handsome as always in a black power suit and steel-gray tie. His face utterly unreadable. “Ms. Walker? Why would he do all that?” She shook her head again. She had no answers. Because he was interested in her? Wanted to spend time with her? “I don’t know,” she said, staring right at him as tears trickled down her cheeks and dripped onto her hands. “He told me he’d look into it. He said…he told me not to worry about it.” “Do you believe everything people tell you?”

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Yes, she thought, she did. Her brothers were right to treat her like a child. “Did you set the fire in your barn?” Her eyes shot to the attorney’s. “No.” “Maybe you did it out of spite? When you found out your lover had betrayed you?” “No.” “Do you have a horse, Ms. Walker? A personal horse?” Hannah tried to swallow against the knot looking at Stephen had left in her throat. “Yes.” “And what’s that horse’s name?” “Winnie.” “And where was Winnie during the barn fire?” She wiped at her cheeks. “She was out.” “Could you speak up? I didn’t hear you.” “She was out. In the pasture.” And Hannah had been nothing but grateful for it.

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“Why was your horse not in the barn?” “I decided to leave her out for the night.” “Why?” “I don’t know. It was…it was a nice night and I thought I’d leave her out.” “Were there any other horses left in the pasture?” “No.” “So on the night of the fire, your own special horse was the only horse not in the barn? Is that correct?” Hannah looked down at her hands. “Yes.” “I left that horse out.” A deep voice carried through the room. Her head jerked up to see Stephen standing, eyes blazing. “I left Winnie out that day,” Stephen said again. The judge banged her gavel. “Sit down or I will have you removed.”

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The ADA stood, slipping through this opening. “Are you saying Ms. Walker is lying?” “No. I’m saying she forgot. We went for a ride and I left Winnie out.” But he was lying. Why would he do that? The gavel continued to bang until he sat. His own defense attorney turned on him, visibly angry. “No further questions.” — Stephen exited the courtroom for recess without even getting a glimpse of Hannah. Her brothers had her so locked down, he hadn’t seen her since that day in his office. His stomach still hurt. He’d never forget the pain and betrayal he’d seen in her eyes. He’d been afraid of her trust, afraid he didn’t deserve it, didn’t know what to do with it. And now he’d lost it.

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But Dave hadn’t told her everything. Unless she’d left out that part, Dave hadn’t told her the truth he’d feared. Instead he’d filled her head with lies. Lies he hadn’t gotten the chance to dispute and, seeing her on the stand, torn to pieces, he couldn’t blame her for believing them. God, he needed to talk to her. Hold her. Watching her on the stand, struggling for composure, had damn near ripped open his heart. “Stephen.” He turned at his attorney’s voice. “What the hell do you think you were doing in there?” Trying to save the woman he loved. “What the hell do you think you were doing?” He got in the man’s space. “This isn’t about making an innocent girl look guilty.” “It is if it saves your ass!”

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Stephen crowded his attorney back another few steps. “You work for me. Remember that.” No way was his high-priced lawyer going to pin this on Hannah. “Oh, I do. And that’s what I’m doing.” Stephen gritted his teeth. “Don’t do it like that. Not again. Or I will perjure myself all the way to jail and this will be your first loss.” “You’re insane.” No, I’m in love. “Are we clear?” “Crystal.” Stephen scrubbed his hands over his face, ran his fingers through his hair, wanting to pull it out over this entire mess. Matt and the oldest McKinney brother, Tony, broke through the crowded hallway. “How you holding up?” Matt asked. Stephen met his brother’s eyes, knew what he was thinking and not saying. This being the first time he’d set foot in a courtroom

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since the guilty verdict had been read against Tracy’s killers. On top of that, he was being accused of something he didn’t do. The woman he loved thought their entire relationship was a lie. And he’d just lied in the courtroom and was prepared to do it again under oath. “Not so good.” — Thirty minutes later they filed back in, taking the same seats. Except for him. It was his turn in the hot seat. The ADA wasted no time. “If Ms. Walker had gotten her way, the city wouldn’t have sold, correct?” “I assume,” he answered. “And if the city hadn’t agreed to the sale, your company, you specifically, would have lost a great deal of money in predevelopment for your project, isn’t that right?”

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“I don’t know anything about that. I had no plans.” “When did you sign the final contract to obtain ownership of—” “I never signed anything.” All business and attitude, the woman walked over and picked up what he assumed was the contract in question. “Is this not your signature?” He looked at it, confirmed it was indeed for Hannah’s property. “No. It is not.” He spoke clearly, making no mistake. Never once taking his eyes from Hannah. Willing her to make eye contact, to believe him. “Ten signatures were compared and the results say it is your signature.” “I did not sign that paper. I’ve never even seen that paper.” “So you’re saying what? That your signature was forged?”

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“Well, since it’s my name, and I didn’t write it, yes. I’m saying it was forged.” The lawyer sighed, changed gears. “What do you know about the canisters of acetone found in the woods near your home?” “Nothing.” “So you’ve never seen them before?” “Never seen them. Never touched them. My prints weren’t on them, and if you remember, the fire chief already said even he couldn’t be sure that’s what was used.” “Yes. I remember the testimony. Thank you.” She sneered at him. “You stated earlier, before you were sworn in, that you left Winnie, Ms. Walker’s palomino, outside the barn that day. Do you wish to change that statement?” With his eyes on Hannah’s he answered, “No. I do not.” “Do you understand the penalty for lying under oath?”

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“Yes.” And he’d do it a million times to save her. “So you left her horse out?” “Yes.” “Why?” “I don’t remember. We’d gone riding and when we came back, I unsaddled her and put her in the turnout paddock.” “Why did you go riding that day? Was it to get another look at the property your company was purchasing?” “No.” “What did you do?” “We had a picnic.” “Did you have sex with Ms. Walker?” He took a second, hating to say things he knew she wouldn’t want said. “I was with Hannah, yes.” “Sexually?”

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He ground his teeth and gave the ADA a look filled with warning and hatred before he finally answered. “Yes.” The lawyer gave the female judge a look. “A clever way for a man to distract a woman.” Stephen brought his eyes back to Hannah, but she was looking down. Crying? He didn’t know his chest could be this tight and not crack. “I was the one distrac—” “One more question, Mr. McKinney. If you didn’t sign that contract, who did? Do you know anyone who would be able to duplicate your signature in such an exact forgery?” “Yes. Dave Pietro. My partner.” The room dissolved into murmurs. Dave glared, then leaned to whisper in Camila’s ear. How had he not seen years ago what the man really was? “The state calls Dave Pietro, Your Honor.”

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The ADA worked Dave over for a while, not really caring who went down as long as someone did. Stephen’s chest had hurt to the point he thought he might be having a heart attack as Dave laid it all out. How the city was first pursuing it as an eminent domain case, which was a shaky claim. Then they’d switched to intestacy after learning there was no will. Something he’d told Dave. He looked over at Hannah then. Saw her face pale even more.

Chapter 46 “Hannah!” Outside the courthouse, Stephen hurried after her, intent on taking this moment when her watchdog brothers were distracted enough to give her a few inches of space. “Hannah.” He touched her arm and she turned, her eyes slamming into his. Finally, after two weeks, and he didn’t know what to say. Her gaze flicked over his shoulder and he knew he didn’t have much time. “I didn’t set that fire. And I didn’t know about Dave’s deal.” Her eyes searched his and, God, he ached at the uncertainty. Full of shadows and closed off from him.

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“That day you came out to the barn. You said it was to apologize.” “I did want to apologize.” But that’s not why he’d been there and he wouldn’t lie to her. No matter what, he wouldn’t do that. “Yes. I was looking at the property, but I knew I didn’t want it. I was only—” “You lied.” She pinned him with wounded eyes. “You pretended not to know what was going on the entire time and you did. You told me not to worry about it.” “I’m sorry. I should have told you. I—” “Was it ever about me?” The question and the look in her eyes when she asked were a direct hit, the punch to his heart instant and vicious. “It was always about you.” He took a step toward her and with tears welling, she took a step back. “Was I your opponent? Was it all just you trying to find out what it took to win?” His throat was raw as he tried to speak.

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She shook her head, looking so tired. “I was wrong again. I should have been afraid of you after all.” She spun and started down the steps again. Desperate, he grabbed her arm. “I didn’t know Dave went behind my back. You have to believe that.” She turned, her eyes a storm of confusion and disappointment. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.” Yes, he could see that, and the toll this was taking. What could he say now that would make things okay between them? He’d lied by omission, about the property and worse. About himself. He raised an unsteady hand to her face, brushed his thumb across the dark smudge under her eye. “You’re not sleeping.” “Hannah.” Nick advanced from behind. “You’re not supposed to be talking to him.”

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Her bottom lip quivered and his heart broke again watching her fight to be stoic. And then she left, not completely sheltered by the men in her family as she’d been when they first met, but in their midst and away from him. He could go after her, try to explain, tell her the real truth he thought Dave had revealed that day. The truth that he rode the line of being a killer. But wouldn’t that hurt her even more? Undermine every bit of confidence she’d gained? He’d already hurt her so much. Could he risk hurting her even more? — The next day, Stephen stood in the doorway of Dave’s office, not willing to let anyone else supervise the man’s packing and departure. He’d sent Dee home an hour ago, so it was just the two of them.

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Dave shot a glance over his shoulder. “You look like you want to hit me.” “Oh, I want to do more than that.” His hands fisted at his sides as he stared at the man he thought he’d known. “Look at yourself. Pining away here, paying homage to a dead girl.” Stephen ground his teeth, barely holding himself back. “I don’t even know you.” “You don’t know yourself,” Dave spat. I like who you are now. “Don’t stand there looking at me like I’m the only guilty party.” “Aren’t you?” Dave turned, gave him a disgusted book. “We both know that’s not true.” Dave forced a few more things into a box, then crossed and slapped a file against Stephen’s chest. “Here you go. That one’s for you.” Stephen took it and read the label. Hannah’s address.

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“You’ll see on the last page that there’s a new buyer in town. The city wanted out of the whole mess, saving their asses. I was kind enough to teach them the art of the quick sale.” Stephen had figured they’d be anxious to sell. Was counting on it. He’d already set up a deeply buried account that would buy her property. Already planned how he would work it around until it was back in Hannah’s hands again. Curious, he flipped to the last page. Sinclair. Stephen looked up to find a sinister smile crossing Dave’s face. “Why would Sinclair want—” “Exactly,” Dave said, seeing the answer dawn on his face. “Because you wanted it. Seems your enemies have become my friends.” He should have anticipated this move. “Well, I hope it was worth it to him.”

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“You know better than anyone, the worth of something is all in how much you want it.” “Your last strike before you leave?” “Something like that. I hope it hits your bitch as well.” Dave’s head jerked back before he ever realized Stephen’s fist was coming. He stumbled, raised his hand to strike back. With two more blows to his face, he went down in a heap and lay there, breathing hard, glaring up at Stephen with pure hatred. “I needed that land! I needed that money!” “I don’t give a shit what you need.” Lying on the ground at his feet, Dave’s face morphed and hardened. His eyes narrowed to slits and his bloody lips curved. “I can bury you just as easily from a jail cell as I can from the office down the hall.” “Try it. But first get your ass out of my building.”

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Stephen followed him out just to be sure, then left a message for Sinclair as he drove. He’d reconsider the St. Kitts project. And if it came to it, he’d grovel. He’d buy Hannah’s land for way more than it was worth. Whatever it took. Ah, to hell with it. If he was going in, he’d go all in. He dialed another number. Blair answered, listened. “Of course. I’d be more than happy to make a deal with you, seeing as how we have a history and all. Eighty million should do it. Don’t you think?” She actually sounded amused. “You’re crazy.” “I don’t think so.” “It’s worth a fraction of that.” “What? You don’t like my offer?” Her voice purred through the phone line. “Maybe you should think about it.” “How much, Blair? And be reasonable.”

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“Since you asked me twice, the price just went up. Isn’t that the way you like to do business?” She named another price, this one crazier than the first. “That’s not going to happen. I don’t even have that.” “Hmm. What’s Trace Development worth these days?” His eyelid twitched and his fingers clenched around the steering wheel. Sinclair didn’t want the land, but they did want to see him squirm. Payback for the loss he’d caused them. And, he imagined, payment on a personal level for pricking Blair’s pride. “You don’t have to answer that, of course. I already know. And I’m willing to let a couple million slide. For old times’ sake.” She was still laughing when he ended the call.

Chapter 47 Hannah carefully wrapped a photograph of herself and her parents taken on her first birthday. She smiled back at the happy, secure baby in the picture. Her mother holding her, her father kissing her icing-covered cheek. She wished she’d had more time with them, wished she had even one real memory. Sighing, she laid that little bit of her past on top of the others. She closed the box and reeled off packing tape across the top, the ripping sound harsh in the silence. Staying so many nights at Nick’s house over the past week since the trial ended had rubbed off on her. She checked her doors and windows again before going to her bedroom to start a new box. Slightly creepy, knowing some stranger had been out here the night of the fire. Her gaze jerked to the

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window. Just a heavy wind bringing down deadwood left over from winter, but a shiver ran through her just the same. It hadn’t taken long for the judge’s decision to come back. After further implicating the dirty city officials, new evidence had surfaced proving Dave had paid someone to set the fire as a way to drive her out. No farm, no public sympathy. And worse, his plan to pin it on Stephen. She thought of the pain and disillusionment Stephen must have felt, being betrayed by someone he thought he knew so well. Goodwin had worked the front end, making sure no one but Trace had a chance to buy the property, Dave specifically. And Dave was to take over the other end, building a private airstrip he would control to traffic illegals. Embarrassed, the city was eager to have another name on the deed, ending all association and washing their hands of it entirely.

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Dave faced multiple charges. Stephen was cleared. And she’d still lost. Her job. Her home. Her purpose. Funny how just a few months ago that had seemed like everything. Then Stephen had come along and…Now she felt like she’d lost even more. The one man she thought could love her. Could it have all been an act? Could he have looked at her scars inside and out the way he had if he didn’t care about her at all? She didn’t know. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him since that day outside the courthouse. It hurt. Being wrong about him, and worse, missing him. She had to fight not to break down and cry in front of her brothers, who’d upped their hovering a hundred notches. She’d taken a chance. Stephen had been her try. Maybe her first and last because she didn’t know if she’d ever try again. If she’d

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ever trust someone enough or if she even wanted to. With only ten days to vacate, she’d been busy, spending her days at the barn, her evenings packing. All the boarders had been retrieved, along with the money she’d taken for the month. Lexie knew a friend of a friend who ran a riding school and was willing to take Hazel, Big Ben, and Mr. Ed. It was more than two hours away, but it was free. She was still hoping to find a barn she could afford to board Winnie, but that was looking more and more unlikely. Winnie would go with her buddies and be ridden every day by other people. People who didn’t know her whistle or where she liked to be scratched. With another box filled, she picked up the tape and turned on the TV to drown out the silence. The cabin she loved felt depressingly empty.

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No different really than it had always been, but she’d quickly grown used to the sounds of someone else moving about. Not just anyone. Stephen’s scent, the sound of him in the kitchen, his heavy footfalls across the floor. The dip in the mattress and the warmth from his big body curled around hers. She wouldn’t be here much longer. Soon she’d be somewhere new, without memories of Stephen. She taped the box shut, wishing it were that easy to box up her feelings. She decided she was finished for the day and rewarded herself with a long hot shower. She no longer closed her eyes or waited for the steam to blur her image in the mirror. She could look at herself and see beauty and survival instead of the ugliness of a nightmare. Whatever else had happened, Stephen had given her that. —

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Stephen looked out the window of Matt’s office thinking of the last time he’d stood here, watching Hannah arrive at Gracie’s party. How surprised he’d been, how relieved. He should have known then that the clenching in his gut was more than just desire. “When are you going to ask about Hannah?” He turned to face his brother, realizing now that’s why he’d come. “I don’t know what to ask.” “I’ve seen her. Once. Took Gracie out to say goodbye to Hazel. She cried.” A smile pulled at Matt’s lips. “Gracie. Not Hazel.” “You should buy the girl a pony.” “Maybe I will.” “And Hannah?” Had she cried? “Hannah was quiet, looked tired.” “I guess she wouldn’t be happy, giving up her horses. I tried to give some money to Nick, but…”

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“I offered too. To board them somewhere nearby, but she wouldn’t hear of it.” Matt shrugged. “She wants to take care of it on her own. Maybe she needs to. But, I don’t think that’s the only reason she wasn’t happy.” Stephen just shook his head. Did he really want to hear that she was unhappy? That he might be the cause of it? Would it change anything? “Why are you so afraid to love her?” “I’m not.” He was afraid to ask her to love him. “I think you are. I think you’re terrified of loving to the point you’re brought to your knees, to the point you risk it all.” No. That wasn’t it. He was terrified of Hannah seeing something inside him she couldn’t accept and that would kill him. “Hannah was tortured by a monster and—”

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“And don’t you think that after everything she’s been through, if she was willing to take the risk, then you should too?” “Not if she doesn’t know what she’s taking a risk on.” “That’s so much bullshit, Stephen. What’s the risk? That you’ll kill someone? Is that what you think of now? What’s the first thought that comes to your head if I told you someone had hurt Hannah?” Get to her. Protect her. Wrap her up and cover her. Even knowing what he knew about Dave now—knowing what he’d done, or paid someone to do, could have killed her—his thoughts were still more about Hannah than about revenge. “If someone killed Abby I can say with absolute certainty that killing would be the least I would do. Does that make me evil or human?” Matt crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against his drafting table. “You’re not the same man you were. I think

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Hannah knows that. I think she knows you.” He waited a beat before speaking again. “She’ll find someone else.” Stephen felt the knots in his stomach tighten. “Maybe she should.” “Will they love her like you do?” Before Stephen could answer screams and squeals accompanied the sound of little bare feet on hard wood. Mary, completely naked and faster than a kid her age should be, streaked between him and Matt. Charlie followed with a purple hooded towel over his head. A second later Abby stuck her head in the doorway, looking beautiful but more tired than he’d ever seen her. Matt picked up Mary, holding her out in front of him, as she was a diaperless danger. “Looks like bath time could use some reinforcements. Come on, little man,” he said to Charlie. “Time for some battleship.” He kissed his wife’s lips as he passed.

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“I’ll let you get to it,” Stephen said, patting Charlie’s head buried under the terry cloth, and let himself out. He started up his truck but kept it in park, staring at the night sky. He rubbed a hand over his chest and just sat there, idling in his brother’s driveway. Will they love her like you do? No. That was impossible. He loved Hannah with every ounce of his soul. With everything he was. No one could love her like that. Was it possible she already knew him? A different him? Maybe, if Tracy’s murder had changed him for the worse, loving Hannah had changed him again. For the better. He shoved the truck into drive and pulled out, telling himself he didn’t deserve her. Even if he was whole he wouldn’t deserve her. But maybe it wasn’t about deserving. Maybe it was more about being blessed. Loving her sure as hell wasn’t a choice. She’d stolen his heart. She owned him.

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Whatever else, he would tell her that. — Stephen dialed Agent Walker’s number as he started home. He didn’t expect a warm welcome from the man and he didn’t get one, but at least the guy took his call. “What the hell do you want?” “Three things,” Stephen said. “First off, I had nothing to do with setting that fire.” Nick let out a reluctant sigh. “You don’t know how much it hurts me to say I believe you.” Well, that was something. “But your friend did,” Nick said, his voice hard. “Yes.” And the fact that a man he thought he’d known was in jail facing charges of arson, in addition to everything else, was something he would have to wrestle with. “What else?”

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“Two, I did not have any part in going after that land. I did know Dave was interested, but it was a non-issue—or so I thought, and that’s on me. I’ll make sure Hannah understands.” “Good luck with that.” Stephen ignored him and went on. “And three, I love your sister. I’m going to convince her of that too.” He wouldn’t lose her because he was a coward. He wouldn’t lose her, period.

Chapter 48 “That’s a good girl.” Hannah stood in the morning sun and held out a sugar cube, not making Winnie guess which hand. They didn’t have time. Winnie’s new mother would be here at ten. She wasn’t selling her, but still, in all the ways that mattered, she’d be someone else’s horse. Winnie lowered her head for a scratch. “I’ll miss you. I’ll come see you as much as I can.” Winnie nodded like she understood, but she didn’t know it was hours away. When Winnie’s ears pricked at a sound, her heart sank before coming back to lodge in her throat. Was it ten o’clock already? But when she looked behind her, it wasn’t a truck and trailer as expected. Stephen.

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Even after everything the rush of emotion was so strong she had to hold onto the wooden rail as he walked toward her. He stopped beside her at the fence. “Hey.” The lump in her throat grew. He looked good. Smelled good, standing so close she could almost feel his body brushing hers. “Hey.” He gave the horse a pat, and they stood in the quiet like they had so many times before. “How are you?” “I’m good.” He nodded slowly, a tense smile on his lips that said he didn’t believe her. And that it bothered him she would lie. She waited for him to speak when what she really wanted to do was bury her face in his neck, lean into his chest as his strong arms came around her, the ones that made everything feel right. She wanted to breathe him in, and never let go.

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“I didn’t know about the property,” he said suddenly. “I never agreed to any of it and I’ll prove—” “I know.” She knew it had been Dave, that he’d forged Stephen’s name. But…“Why didn’t you tell me about the land?” He scanned the fields in front of them before he spoke. “At first I didn’t think it mattered, then I thought I could fix it. And I was afraid.” “Afraid of what?” He looked back, his eyes hot on hers. “I was afraid of losing you.” A chill ran through her, like her body knew how desperate she was to believe him. And she did. Before she could respond, he drew several folded pieces of paper from his back pocket and handed them to her. “What is it?” But as she unfolded the papers, she saw. It was a much smaller version of his drawing, his plans for Freedom Farm.

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Her eyes burned. She didn’t want to be reminded of her lost dream just minutes before Winnie was taken away. “Look at the other paper.” She moved to the next page and saw her name at the top, the farm’s address below that. Her eyes came back up to his. “It’s the deed to the land. To Freedom Farm.” “I don’t understand.” “It’s yours. The land. The barn. The cabin.” Her mind swirled around what he was saying, not wanting to risk misunderstanding. “I bought it but it’s in your name. I kept back enough to fix it up, to build it the way we talked about with the playground and the camp.” “What do you mean, kept back?” “It doesn’t matter.” But it did matter. “Tell me.”

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“I sold Trace. Someone had already bought the land from the city before I could get to it. Someone who wasn’t willing to bargain, so…Trace will be absorbed by Sinclair Hotels. I’ll step down and—” “But…why? You love Trace. It’s everything—” “No.” He caught her face in his hands. “I love you. You’re what I need, Hannah. You’re what I think about. Not a building. Not a company. I’m alive again because of you.” Her eyes filled and she wasn’t at all sure she was breathing as she stared up at him. “I can do something else, something more. You showed me that. I can design. Build spaces that matter. Starting here if you let me.” His hands skimmed down her arms as he lowered himself to one knee and her breath caught. Then caught again when he pulled a

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ring out of his pocket. A single twinkling diamond set in platinum. “Stephen.” Her voice was shaky. She was shaky. This man so strong and powerful and on his knees, for her. Because he loved her. He took her hand and squeezed. “Hannah, I want to start and end every day with you. I want us to have a family, any kind of family we’re lucky enough to have. And mostly, I just want to love you, every day, for the rest of my life.” She bit her bottom lip to stop the trembling, but she couldn’t stop the flood of tears. “It’s all yours no matter what, and I know I have a lot to make up for but—” “I love you.” She said it quickly and the words kind of stuck in her throat so she said it again. “I love you. I already did. I still do.” Stephen smiled and she thought she saw tears welling in his brown eyes. It was hard to tell through her own blur. He slipped the

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ring onto her finger, stood, and covered her mouth with his. It was everything she wanted. He was everything she wanted. After several minutes, Stephen eased back and smoothed his palms over her wet cheeks. He combed his fingers into her hair at either side of her face and held there a second, just looking at her. Then he frowned as he brushed his thumbs over the dark circles under her eyes. Her hands slid from his neck and down his chest and she smiled a real smile for the first time in days. “I sleep better when you’re there.” “Is that a yes?” “Yes.” She touched her lips to his. “Yes.” He kissed her again and she felt it all the way to her heart. He loved her. She saw it in his eyes, knew it in his kiss. It was real and she wasn’t wrong.

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Arms still wrapped tightly around her, he turned his head at the sound of a trailer bumping over the hill. “Who’s that?” She looked over at her horse, chuffing at the grass along the bottom of the fence. “They’re coming for Winnie.” He turned back to face her, one side of his mouth pulling up in that boyish smile she loved so much. “Not anymore.” — Some time later, Stephen lay wrapped around Hannah. A sheet was twisted around their tangled legs. The pillows had been knocked to the floor. He kissed his way across her chest, loving her slowly, taking his time. They had a lot of time. When he reached her lips he kissed her long and slow, loving the way she always responded even after he’d exhausted her. Her

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fingers ran slowly through his hair. Now. Now he would tell her. The fear of it wasn’t as great as it had been, but still, he didn’t want a lie between them. Or an omission. He rested on one forearm so he could see her face, linking the fingers of his other hand with hers. He looked at her a long minute before he spoke and she looked back at him, waiting. “I should have told you before, but…” But honestly, he’d said all he could before nearly coming apart at her feet. “So, tell me now.” “That day you came to my office, there was something I thought Dave had told you. Something I didn’t want you to know.” Her expression never changed, her fingers continued their soft, slow motion. “The men who killed Tracy…I said I wanted them dead but it was more than that. I wanted to kill them.”

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He didn’t let himself look away. If there was fear in her eyes, he wanted to see it, and then he’d fight it. “I didn’t just want to kill them, I wanted to torture them. I wanted to make them suffer, watch them suffer. Everything that was done to you…” He shook his head. “I went too far, I know I did, and…I couldn’t find my way back.” “Stephen.” She said his name gently and her fingers tightened around his. “Why didn’t you tell me?” The love in her voice nearly undid him and he dropped his gaze to the side of the bed. “I didn’t think you would ever want that. Could ever accept that.” “But I understand more than anyone. I can accept that more than anyone.” His eyes found hers again, liquid gold. God, he loved her. “I couldn’t let myself feel anything without being afraid I’d come apart. Wouldn’t risk it even for my family.

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Until you. I wanted to be someone else with you. I am someone else with you.” “Maybe we’re someone else together.” He let go of the burning breath he’d been holding, and with it everything else. “I love you so damn much.” He touched his lips to hers. He rolled to his back, bringing her with him and held her tight. “So you’re really going to marry me?” “Yes. What’s that smile?” “What? Why shouldn’t I smile?” “No, that’s an I’m-about-to-be-really-bad smile.” “Just thinking about how much fun it’s going to be telling your brothers.” They wrestled and laughed as she tried to punish him, which only made him hard and want to be inside her. “I love you,” he said again, knowing he’d never get tired of seeing her.

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They rolled until he was above her and he began the beautiful task of showing her just how much.

Epilogue TEN MONTHS LATER… Streamers of every color blew in the wind. Groupings of pink and purple balloons jerked wildly. Shrieks of joy and general pandemonium erupted to a new level when another one popped against a wooden beam of the playground structure. Gracie’s sixthbirthday party was in full swing. Hannah didn’t have parties here, but her niece was the exception. Allie and Lola followed Gracie down one of four slides. They rode together and had become best friends. Standing at the railing, looking at it all brought tears to her eyes. Just a year ago she’d watched Stephen’s family with longing, and now they were her family.

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Her husband—still getting used to that—slid his arms around her from behind. She covered his hands with her own, the ones that protectively covered her flat stomach. There was a baby growing in there, the news so recent, the idea so fresh, they were both still absorbing it. She hadn’t thought it could happen, could still hardly believe it. Marrying Stephen four months ago had been the most beautiful moment of her life. Until two days ago. When she’d told him they were having a baby and his eyes had filled with tears. Now that was the most beautiful moment. Standing here with him close enough to feel his breath on her cheek, watching the kids climb over the structure they’d recently finished, was another one. Her life was a series of better and better moments. He buried his nose in her hair and kissed her neck. “You’re not going to tell them, are you?”

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“No.” They’d decided not to say anything about her being pregnant, not for a while. Stephen liked knowing they had a secret and he didn’t want to share it. That was fine with her. With the other adults they managed the kids, watching them enjoy Stephen’s new creation. This party was the christening of the special-needs playground. Some of the most ingenious features had come from J.T. Though only via drawings, as he still refused to come home. No matter how hard Stephen and his other brothers tried, it didn’t seem to make a difference. It made her wonder if there was something other than his amputation that was keeping him away. Hours later adults and babies covered Hannah’s small wooded porch, spilling off to more chairs at the bottom of the steps. Stephen, his dad, and his brothers had cleared a section of woods right in front of the cabin for a wooden swing set. They knew

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what they were doing and the park-worthy structure had gone up in two days. Stephen said the kids in his family would need an outlet when they came over and he was right. He was also working on plans for a bigger house a hundred yards up the rise. “Can we go in the woods?” Jack asked alongside his cousin Alex. Matt adjusted his three-month-old baby girl, Caroline, on his shoulder. “Stay where I can see you.” “Okay.” Jack and three more of the older kids turned to run. “That means if you can’t see us, we can’t see you,” Matt added. “Got it!” The black Lab puppy Stephen had given Hannah shortly after their engagement ran after the boys. Not to be outdone, her brothers had delivered Bailey, a German shepherd, shortly after. Nick still claimed they’d

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technically been first since Bailey had been in training for several months. Lexie had also given her a dog, Bingo, a rescued Australian shepherd mix, who lay exhausted at her feet. Zach was determined she would have a barn cat. She didn’t mind. Lily wiggled out of Sarah’s arms and she put her down. Arms shot out to keep the newly walking girl from toppling into the edge of a chair, on top of a dog, or down the steps. So busy, she thought with a smile. She couldn’t wait. The infant in Matt’s arms wailed and Abby moved to trade with him. “She’s hungry.” “Well, I can do a lot, but I can’t do that,” Matt said. Stephen held out his hands to Abby to assist with the switch. “Come here, big boy.” But instead of passing Cole to his brother, he took the baby against his chest. They’d both done a fair amount of baby holding since the twins were born.

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He relaxed back against the railing, long legs stretched out in front of him. She knew every inch of that body. Intimately. The man was spectacular on his own, but holding a baby? He was devastating. Stephen’s big hand rubbed circles around the baby’s back. “We’ll be catching up to you soon, brother.” The comment might have passed without anyone making much of it, but she’d been so lost in sexy thoughts, she didn’t think. Her mouth dropped and her eyes bugged. “Stephen!” He shrugged, smiled. “Oops.” The shock passed and she rolled her eyes, shook her head. “You just couldn’t stand it, could you?” He pulled her close with his free arm. “Nope.” She let him plant a quick kiss on her lips, then turned. Luke had left months ago for

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who knows where and Zach hours ago for his shift. Her eyes went immediately to Nick’s and she smiled sweetly at her brother. “Surprise.” The McKinneys erupted in congratulations, hugs, and kisses. Especially Stephen’s mother, who’d quickly filled in for her own. Nick slowly unfolded himself from his chair at the base of the stairs and made his way up. “So I guess I have to shake your hand and say congratulations again, McKinney.” “I guess you do, Walker.” Stephen took Nick’s offered hand. Both men smiled, though the look that passed between them was serious. A look also passed between Mia and Nick from where her friend stood on the other end of the porch. Just a flash and then it was gone. Stephen’s mom took Cole, and with his arms free he hugged her back against his

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chest. The men toasted him with a beer, even Nick, and the ladies got the due date details. There were more hugs and questions until Gracie flipped out of her swing and Matt bounded down the steps to console her. A dog barked, the boys ran from the woods claiming they’d seen Bigfoot, which made the girls on the swing set scream. General chaos ensued. Another perfect moment.

For Karen, who gave me that first push I needed and never stopped believing.

A huge thank-you goes out to my critter crew, my editor, and my agent. It takes a village.

BY CLAUDIA CONNOR The McKinney Brothers Worth the Fall Worth the Risk

PHOTO: ASHTON DRAKE

CLAUDIA CONNOR attended Auburn University, where she received her undergraduate and master’s degrees in early childhood education, and she completed her studies in Sawbridgeworth, England. Always a lover of happy endings, she enjoys movies, reading, and spending her days pouring out the stories in her head. She lives near

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Memphis, Tennessee, with her husband and three daughters. claudiaconnor.com Facebook.com/ClaudiaConnor @Claudia_Connor Goodreads.com/claudiaconnor

The Editor’s Corner February is the month for romance, especially at Loveswept…because this month we have a little something for everyone. Sure to please fans of erotic romance, Lea Griffith’s All or Nothing series returns to the deepest places of longing and obsession—don’t miss More. In Sidney Halston’s latest sizzling MMA romance, Below the Belt, a former title contender turns the tables on his knockout trainer with a lesson in seduction. New York Times bestselling author Tracy Wolff is back with another Ethan Frost novel, featuring the irresistible leading man from the New York Times bestsellers Ruined and Addicted in Exposed. USA Today bestselling author Sawyer Bennett hits the ice with the story of a playboy athlete whose winning ways lead him to a beautiful woman

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with a lot to lose. You don’t have to love hockey to enjoy Garrett, the next book in Sawyer’s Cold Fury Hockey series. Another of our Loveswept USA Today bestsellers, Mira Lyn Kelly, cranks up the heat for two lifelong friends whose most secret longings come true in every delectable way in Touch & Go. And later in the month, in Lavinia Kent’s luscious, erotic historical romance, a free spirit learns her true desires from a master of the heart, of the body—and of the sweetest discipline. Check out Bound by Bliss. Ashlyn Macnamara finishes up this month of romance with a blazing hot novel, What a Lady Requires, the story of mismatched newlyweds who discover a simmering connection. Be our Valentine this month and every month—read Loveswept.

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~Happy Romance!

Gina Wachtel Associate Publisher

Read on for an excerpt from

Too Hot to Handle by Katie Rose Available from Loveswept

Chapter 1 “Hey, bro!” Ryan Wakeman strode into the MIXX bar at the Borgata Casino and waved at the Sonics shortstop. Jake Baldwin was, of course, surrounded by girls. A cute little blonde hopped off the stool as Ryan approached, and she blew Jake a kiss when he made it clear he was occupied. While not the best-looking member of the team—Chase Westbrook held that title—Jake’s little-boy looks, sandy-blond hair, wide blue eyes, and sexy smile attracted women immediately. Charm he had in buckets, and when he turned the full force of his personality on an unsuspecting female, she was done. The first baseman grabbed the recently vacated stool and signaled to the bartender for a drink. A shot of tequila appeared before

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him, along with an icy draft. He gave his teammate a questioning look at the amount of alcohol even as he downed the clear liquor. “It’s off-season,” Jake said with a grin. “We don’t start spring training for a week yet. Plenty of time.” “Apparently not for all of us.” Ryan gestured to the couple across the bar. Chase Westbrook, their ace pitcher, sat with his girlfriend, Darcy Hamilton, and was nursing a club soda. He seemed to sense their perusal and sent Jake a grin as well as a nod. “He has to behave himself. He’s got the wife with him.” Ryan chuckled. “She isn’t yet, but I think it’s just a matter of time.” One brow arched and he looked at Jake speculatively. “So I’m already married, Chase is on his way. What about you? Think you’ll ever settle down?” “Not my style,” the shortstop said, and then looked at his teammate with curiosity.

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“I don’t know how you do it. We’re on the road all the time, a different state every week. And with spring training in Florida, there are just too many opportunities to meet girls. Some of them are so damned gorgeous. How do you stay committed?” “That’s easy,” Ryan said. “It really is true—when you find the right one you just don’t want to cheat. Not that I don’t like to look. But that’s all.” Jake just shook his head. “I’ve got to hand it to you and our buddy over there.” He indicated Chase. “He’s smitten. Never seen him happier.” “I know. The man’s done.” Jake nodded and then gestured to the bartender for another round. When the woman approached, she gave him a sexy smile. “Hey, honey,” she whispered, leaning closer to the shortstop. “What are you doing later?”

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She wore a badge that said Desiree and her voice was rich with promise. Jake allowed his eyes to travel from the top of her platinum-blond head down. Apparently he liked what he saw. “I’m meeting someone for a couple of drinks,” he confided with a wicked smile. “But I should be able to stop back before closing.” “Sounds good.” She bent down to get the bottle of tequila, and Jake saw a long length of tanned thigh. His eyes met Ryan’s, and the first baseman shook his head and grinned. As if on cue, one of the Borgata waitresses, a sultry redhead, entered the bar. She glanced around, and then spotted Jake. Waving enthusiastically, she pushed her way through the crowd and joined him. “Sorry I’m late.” The redhead kissed the shortstop’s cheek and gave Ryan a little finger wave. Her uniform boasted a plunging neckline, which showed off magnificent surgically enhanced breasts, and a skirt so short

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it barely covered her bottom. “I got held up at the table.” Jake gave her a kiss in return. “Did you win?” “Yes, a couple hundred bucks. Drinks are on me!” she said enthusiastically and then turned to the bar. Immediately, her smile disappeared as her eyes locked on the bartender. The tension crackled between them as the cool blonde and the hot redhead sized each other up like two cats in the same barnyard. “What are you doing here?” the redhead spat, her green eyes blazing. “Working,” Desiree sneered, pouring a drink for emphasis. “You know, real job?” “Come on, Jake, let’s get out of here.” The redhead gave the bartender a look that could shoot daggers. Desiree smiled. “See you later, Jakey. Once you’re done wasting your time with her.”

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The redhead looked from Jake to the other woman and approaching the bar, poured the glass of tequila over the bartender’s head. Desiree gasped, the clear liquor trickling down her hair and onto her forehead. Grabbing a towel, she rubbed the sting from her eyes, mascara smearing, and then sprang up onto the bar, livid with outrage. “Oh, no.” Ryan tried to insert himself between the two women, but even his massive form wasn’t enough to keep them apart. A true Jersey catfight ensued even as Jake tried to pull his date out of the grip of the furious bartender. Chase came around the bar and tried to break it up, but all he got for his trouble was a face full of beer meant for the redhead. A tough-looking thug who’d been eyeing up Desiree all evening jumped into the fray and punched Jake, correctly assessing him as the source.

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Without hesitation, Jake hit the man back and within seconds, the entire bar had joined the fight. The redhead pulled Desiree’s hair and wound up with a handful of platinum extensions, while the blonde brought her to the ground. The two women rolled on the marble floor, screaming and cursing, while manicured fists tried to make contact. Darcy leaped up and grabbed the security guard, and then tried to pry Chase out of the mass of flailing limbs. She pulled him away just as he threw up his arm to protect her from a flying beer bottle, while the guard tried to stop the brawl. Jake accidentally punched Chase, his fist connecting neatly with the pitcher’s chin, and took a hit to the gut in retaliation. The bouncer quickly called for help, and two cops showed up in record time. The lounge looked like something out of an old western as drinks flew along with fists. One of the officers grabbed a pitcher of ice water

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and unceremoniously threw it on the two women. The redhead let out a howl, giving the man the opportunity he needed to get her off the bartender. “Break it up!” the other policeman shouted, hauling the brawlers away one by one. He had to call for reinforcements, but once security arrived along with the hotel manager, they were finally able to round up the instigators and hoist them down to the police station. Cell phones flashed, Twitter tweeted, and YouTube exploded. Within minutes, the Sonics’ fight hit social media everywhere as the fans re-tweeted the incident and shared the videos. By morning, the Jersey team was headline news. — “What the hell is this crap?” Jeffrey Caine threw the paper across the desk where Pete

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Johnston, head coach for the Sonics, placidly chewed his gum. John Palmer, the team’s communications director, looked to the sky. Pete shrugged and glanced at the lurid headlines and the nearly obscene picture of two women rolling around the floor of the glitzy nightclub. It didn’t take a practiced eye to spot several members of the Sonics, obviously in the thick of the battle. “They’re just boys having some fun,” Pete said to the general manager as he fingered the paper, trying to suppress a smile. “They start training tomorrow. Looks like they were letting off steam and things got out of hand.” “We can’t afford this.” The general manager got to his feet and paced the room. “The last thing we need is this kind of press. This is the year for us to make our mark, become a first-class team. Do you think you’d ever see the Yankees plastered all over the Trenton Times like this? I heard the YouTube video has gone viral.”

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“It will blow over,” John said with a shrug. “You know as well as I do that this will be forgotten in no time. Right now our governor is front and center with that bridge scandal. By next Tuesday this will be nothing more than a footnote.” “What if one of them gets hurt?” Jeffrey continued in the same tone. “We need Ryan healthy and hitting. We need Jake fit and able to make the kind of plays he made last season. His contract is up this year, and New York is sniffing around. We want to make sure this is a team he wants to stay with. And we just signed Chase. If he injures his arm, we’re out that money. And for what? So that they can go to a bar and engage in a brawl like some street gang on a Saturday night?” Pete knew better than to continue to defend the actions of his ball club. “I’ll talk to them.” “We need more than that. We need to change the way they see themselves, make

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them aware of the repercussions of what they do. They seem to forget they are role models. Who is going to want to take their kids to the ballpark after something like this?” “We’ll be all right. We’ll just have to make sure they toe the line.” “Agreed. That’s why I am hiring a PR specialist. Have you heard of Nikki Case?” Pete shook his head in the negative while John’s mouth opened in surprise. Jeffrey continued. “She’s supposed to be the best in the business. I want to do what Steinbrenner did. He got rid of the long hair, the tats, and the beards. George wanted the All-American team. He understood the power of an image. That’s what I think we need.” John snorted. “They’ll never go for it. Our club isn’t a bunch of pretty boys. They’re hardworking, hard-drinking ballplayers. They aren’t about to put on a suit to talk to

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the press, or starch their uniforms for a photo op.” Pete nodded in agreement. “They’re tough guys. They hustle. They fight for every hit, every base. By the end of the game, they look like they’ve been rolling in the mud, and they should.” “I’m not saying they need to become GQ models,” Jeffrey said impatiently. “What I am saying is that we have a real chance this year to make it big. We signed Chase; Ryan and Jake are healthy. We got to the Series last year, and with a little polish, a wellthought-out strategy, and some hard work, we can win. I want to show New York they aren’t the only ones who know how to put together a real ball club.” “You know I’ll support you if that’s what you want to do.” Pete shrugged, ignoring the outraged look in John’s eyes. “I just want to tell you it’s going to be an uphill battle. Our

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boys are going to fight this. Especially if they think we’re imitating the Yankees.” “I know. But I’m counting on you to make this work,” Jeffrey said emphatically, looking at John. “I want Ms. Case to have free rein. Whatever she says goes. I want her on the road with the team, making sure they stick with the program. And I want you to make it clear that this isn’t up for debate. We are heading into the new season. It’s time for a fresh start. The next headline I see about our team had better be about the effort they’re making in training, their first win, their love for children, apple pie, and America. Got it?” “Got it.” Pete swallowed his gum.

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