When Winona heard the knock, she swallowed hard, and then hustled to answer the door. It was just before six, so she knew it was Justin. All day she’d been higher than a kite, looking forward to seeing him again…and she still wanted to see him, but the circumstances had sure changed.

She yanked open the door, carrying Angel. The baby was dolled up to go out to dinner, wearing an ultracool pink jumper with an ultracool pink heart sweater and pink booties. She could have won over the heart of a stone; she was that adorable—if she hadn’t been screaming at the top of her lungs.

“Darn it, Justin, I’m afraid—” Winona started to say.

“Eh?” He cupped a hand over his ear, as if he needed a megaphone to hear over the symphonic volume.

“I don’t think we’re going to be able to go out to dinner,” she shrieked.

“Yeah, it does look like we’d better come up with plan B.” He stepped in, quickly shut the door on the draft and, as soon as he’d peeled off his jacket, waggled his fingers.

“Trust me, you don’t want her,” Winona assured him.

“Hey, she can cry just as good in my arms as yours, can’t she? I take it we’re not in a real good mood.”

“She’s not hungry, not tired, not sick, not anything, so PMS is my best guess. I just didn’t expect it to hit before she was six months old.”

“Now, don’t be criticizing my second-best girl.” He kissed Win first—on the tip of the nose—and then swooped the baby in his arms. Startled, Angel stopped the faucet for a second and looked him over. “I’m the handsomest guy you’ve seen all day, right, darlin’?”

Winona wanted another kiss. One significantly stronger and deeper and more romantic than that peck on the nose. But Angel seemed to be considering what she thought of the heartthrob with the Sam Elliot eyes in the doorway. Then she decided. First there was a heartrending sniff, and then another melodious bloodcurdling cry designed to alert all neighbors in a ten-mile radius that she was Not Happy.

“Okay,” Justin said. “Get your coat and the baby’s coat. We’re bumping this pop stand.”

“Justin, we can’t take her anywhere like this.”

“Well…I do think she’s a little young to be blackmailing us into taking her to Disney World, but I’m almost sure we can come up with something that’ll win a smile out of Her Highness.”

There were circles under his eyes. There were circles under hers. Winona theorized that possibly the baby guessed what they’d been doing the night before, and wanted to make sure they never, ever, had an opportunity to do it again. But she simmered down for the ride in the car, and only let out an occasional squeal—as if to keep in practice—as Justin carried her into his house.

“I just figured it might work better at my house because I knew we didn’t have to worry about dinner. Myrt made something, left it in the fridge. Corned beef, I think? I’m not sure, but I know it’s something we could put together quickly. And in the meantime, there’s a bunch of things I want to talk with you about.”

She wasn’t sure how he managed it. Within five minutes, he’d taken her jacket, ordered her shoes off, poured her a glass of merlot, and was leading her through the house. His bossiness wasn’t the surprise. It was all he was managing to do while holding Angel at the same time. And the baby had quit crying—as long as she was bouncing along in Justin’s arms.

“Really, Win, it doesn’t matter to me which house we choose to live in. If you want to stay at your place, that’s fine. But I do have a ton of space here. And Myrt’s already installed. Not that those details make this house so great—for one thing, as many bedrooms as there are upstairs, maybe they’re too far from the master bedroom? We couldn’t hear the baby if we set her in a bedroom upstairs? So then I was thinking, maybe this room would make a good nursery….”

He pushed open the door to his downstairs office, which was wainscoted in teak with a burgundy-striped wallpaper above. Background lighting illuminated his expensive computer setup. A couch overlooked glass doors and the view of the water-garden landscaping in his backyard.

“This is all too dark. I figured we’d throw all this junk—”

“Junk?”

“Stuff. All this stuff could go upstairs in one of the spare rooms. We could just rip out the wainscoting and dark wallpaper. Do baby colors—whatever baby colors are. There’s a lot of room for a crib and rocker and all. And next door’s a bathroom—although right now, that room’s too dark, too. I mean, for right now, we could just make these two rooms work easily enough. It’s not like Angel’s crawling or walking yet. I can hire a couple of strong backs as soon as tomorrow to start moving the heavy furniture around.”

Once back in the kitchen, he tried to put Angel in her baby carrier. She let out a prompt, furious squeal. He picked her up again.

He talked about safety gates and baby monitors. He talked about turning in his Porsche for a “grown-up car” that would more easily accommodate a baby car seat and groceries. When the telephone suddenly rang, he again tried to put down Angel. Again she squealed. Again he picked her back up again, and answered the phone call while carrying her around.

He found the bread, scooped the lettuce from the refrigerator, knifed on fancy mustard and made corned beef sandwiches on rye, holding Angel the whole time. He looked at the baby once, as if debating whether it was worth even trying to eat without her on his shoulder, and then just ate one-handed.

Before dinner was over, Winona was in love with him.

All right, all right, she’d realized that she’d fallen before this. But some of those earlier feelings were surely lust. And as extraordinarily powerful—and desired—as that lust was, this was a different kind of love. This was watching Royal’s most eligible and supposedly most self-indulged and spoiled bachelor working heart and soul to charm a baby. This was watching a doc who’d put in a ten-hour day—after making love to her all night—never lose patience with a fractious little one. This was watching Justin be a father. This was seeing his patience and gentleness and giving nature without him having a clue how much he was revealing.

“Justin?”

“What?”

“You’re making all those marriage and life plans so fast that you’re scaring the life out of me. You’ve thought so many things through already, as if you were really that sure—”

“I am sure, Win. We’re going to love being married. I just know it. The faster the better. If we don’t get all the details resolved ahead, so what? We’ll just do things as we go.”

The baby blew a bubble in his face. That was it for Winona. “If you don’t mind my changing the subject from marriage for just a minute. I just wanted to mention…if it’s all right with you—the very minute Angel goes to sleep—I’m going to jump your bones.”

Smooth as silk, Justin chucked the baby’s chin. “Well, that’s it. What do I have to bribe you with to get you to bed?”

Winona chuckled, but there was no hurrying Angel into doing anything. The baby had had a super day, but something just seemed to hit her wrong around the dinner hour, and she was nonstop fretful—unless Justin was holding or walking her.

“I have an idea,” he announced finally.

“Ideas aren’t helping us. We need a miracle,” she said wryly.

But it seemed that Justin was capable of coming up with one of those, too. In the cobalt-and-marble bathroom downstairs, he started filling the whirlpool tub. While Winona stripped the baby down in the warm, moist air, he fetched candles from around the house, lit them and chose a CD to play a muted, low bluesy sax—achy, yearny love songs, one after the other.

“See how fast I managed to get your mom naked? And you thought I wasn’t very bright, didn’t you, Angel?”

It was a romantic setting for lovers, not for a baby’s bath. The warm jetted water. The candle scents and quivering lights. The yearning love songs. The darkness and nakedness and Justin’s dark, soft eyes looking at her from the far corner of the tub, his bare toes caressing her bare toes.

The baby chortled and giggled, either from the safety of Justin’s arms, or hers. Angel seemed to think this party had been arranged just for her—which it had—and the little ham managed to keep both the adults chuckling…yet Winona kept looking at Justin. And yeah, she could feel the desire seeping and building between them. But she also could see him relaxing, just as Angel was. Letting down his hair. Letting go.

Possibly because she’d always had such a hard time letting go herself, she had always recognized how closely Justin held his emotions. In his work, he gave freely. It wasn’t as if he were a stingy man with his heart. But what he personally wanted and needed in his own life, he rarely showed the world, including her…especially since he’d come back from Bosnia.

Watching the baby try to grab his nose, hearing Justin’s gentle laughter, seeing his natural easiness with the darling, Winona fell in love all over again. Deeply. Painfully. Irrevocably.

She rose from the tub abruptly.

“Did you see that view, Angel?” Justin teased. “Your mom is trying to drive me crazy. And doing an outstanding job of it.”

“We can’t stay here all night.”

“Why? She’s happy.”

“Because she’ll turn into a prune, you goose. But keep her in here for a couple more minutes, okay? While I go heat up a bottle and fix a place for her to sleep?”

Naturally she’d brought a diaper bag and a change of clothes for the baby, but several hours before, it really hadn’t occurred to her that they might be spending the night. Now, wrapped in a towel, she prowled the downstairs, spotting a half-dozen places where she could set up a secure sleeping arrangement for Angel, just trying to pick the best. She decided on the couch in Justin’s office, where she could push two chairs against the open couch edge to create a secure barrier. Then there was the business of finding the equivalent of a rubber sheet, and a real sheet, and blankets, and then getting the bottle warmed.

By the time she slipped back in the bathroom, Ms. Prune seemed to be out of the water and was on a thick, fat towel next to the tub, chortling her head off while Justin tickled her.

“Sheesh. We were trying to settle her down,” she scolded.

“She doesn’t want to settle down. She likes being naked. You know who I think she takes after?”

“You. All day,” Winona murmured.

“I was thinking about you. To think that you’ve been walking around my house that way all this time and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it…it boggles the mind.”

“Well, I admit, I’d been thinking about boggling something of yours, too, Doc. But it wasn’t your mind.”

She was up for flirting with Justin indefinitely…but for a second, words failed her. She caught it. The baby’s first yawn. Faster than lightning, she whipped a fresh diaper and sleeper on Angel. And then there was another rosebud yawn when she settled the darling in her arms, those soft velvety eyelashes already drooping as Angel latched on to the nipple of the bottle.

She kept thinking sex and babies shouldn’t go together.

She kept thinking that maybe she was nuts, because the candlelight and music hadn’t turned her on nearly as much as watching Justin discover being a dad.

She kept thinking that they were teasing and flirting like an old married couple who were already comfortable with each other naked, who already knew the things to say to trigger desire.

And she fell quiet as she fed the baby. So quiet that Justin noticed. She felt his gaze on her face as she coaxed the last drops into Angel, who was all set to snuggle down and sleep deeply now—but Winona didn’t want her trying to sleep for the night short on food. Finally, she lifted the little one to her shoulder—all dead weight and baby breath and smelling of powder—patting, rubbing, trying to get up that last nasty burp before putting her down…and still she felt Justin’s gaze on her face.

“She’s out. Really out this time,” she whispered finally. “I made a bed for her in the den. I’ll be right back.”

Once Winona laid the baby down, though, she suddenly realized how long she’d been parading semi-naked in front of Justin. What had seemed natural before now seemed…different. It wasn’t the same situation without the baby as a barrier. That had been like playing poker without ever having to ante…playing at being lovers without ever being alone.

Reality, though, was that they’d only been lovers one night…and Winona suddenly felt an attack of nerves. Technically, this was what they’d both wanted, to have the night to themselves, the baby finally asleep. Only she seemed to be suddenly standing in the hall outside the bathroom, clutched up like a ninny. Surely Justin was tired of the water by now? But would it be presumptuous to go into his bedroom? Should she be getting dressed? And then suddenly she heard his voice, as if he sensed her sudden uneasiness.

“Win? C’mere, you.”

It was the lazy, easy sound of his voice that made her tiptoe back into the bathroom, and there he was, waiting for her in the tub with those sexy dark eyes. “Yeah, I know,” he said gently. “We’ve been here a hundred hours already. And both of us need some just plain sleep, don’t we?”

“Yes—”

“But how about if you just dip in here for one more minute. I’ll give you a back rub.”

She hurtled back into the tub with splashing speed, making Justin laugh.

“You’re not just a little bit of a hedonist, are you?” he teased, but he wasn’t teasing as he nestled her between his bent legs and started working his hands on her neck and shoulders. Her eyelashes drooped as if they weighed five pounds each and her head bobbed forward. She groaned and kept on groaning.

And he kept rubbing and caressing and molding any last tension from her shoulders, but eventually she heard a different note in his voice. A quiet note. “What were you thinking, Win? When you were feeding the baby a few minutes ago, and you suddenly turned so serious?”

She’d been thinking that she finally believed him—that he really did want to marry her. It wasn’t a dream. It was real. All his plan-making for the baby tonight was proof. The way he treated Angel was another kind of proof, that he had strong, tender feelings for the baby and was already taking joy in being a father. But it was the two of them where she kept feeling this rain of wonder. They’d known each other so long…but until Angel had so accidentally slipped into her life, she’d had no idea that Justin had feelings for her.

Now she wondered how he’d fooled her for so long.

And how she’d fooled herself.

She closed her eyes, struggling to offer him a kind of honesty that she never had done before. “I was thinking…well, I almost don’t remember my mother. But I remember the morning when I woke up and she was gone. I was pretty young—but I knew I was alone. I remember feeling abandoned, feeling that there must be something terribly wrong with me that she’d left as if I were nothing. And as much as I’ve wanted a child, Justin, I think I was always afraid that I wouldn’t be a good mother. That that fatal flaw in me would show up. The thing that made me unlovable. And I worried that I could do that to a child.”

She watched his mouth work, as if he wanted to spill a dozen things to her. Instead he hesitated, and then he just listened. “And…?”

“And then I was watching you play with Angel. Be with her. The joy and fascination in your eyes.”

“Well, hell. There’s nothing surprising there. She could win a tear from a glass eye.”

She smiled softly. “I think so, too. That’s exactly how I feel with her. The joy. The fascination. No, I don’t know what I’m doing. But this huge feeling of love wells up, this bond to her that just seems bigger than I am. And I know I can be a good mom. I just know.”

“Aw, Win, I can’t believe you doubted yourself this way.”

“Well, I did. It’s hard to explain, but I doubted…that I could let go. I was angry when I was a kid. I think I always believed under the surface that it had to be my fault—something wrong with me—that made my mom take off. And I was afraid that something-wrong-in-me could affect my being a parent.”

“Winona. You’ll be the best parent this side of the Atlantic. And this side of the Pacific, too. You already are. Hell. I didn’t know you were worried about this….” He hesitated. “When you suddenly got so quiet, I thought maybe you’d found out something in the investigation of Angel’s mother—and you just hadn’t had a chance to tell me.”

“I’m finding out things every day. But nothing that’s helped me pin down where Angel came from, at least so far.”

“Then…you’re still worried about keeping her?”

“Yeah, I’m worried about that. Badly. And I’m going to keep worrying about that until we know for sure what’s going to happen to her. I can’t help it. Any more than I can help hoping that Angel ends up mine. Ours.” She turned in his arms. “But that’s not the reason I’m saying yes to you.”

“Yes to…?”

“I never gave you a clear-cut answer, did I? I mean…you’ve been making marriage and living plans at the speed of sound. And I know we’ve come together. I know we’ve both used the marriage word. You especially. But I never came out before this and admitted that I’m in love with you, Doc. Really in love. Off the deep end in love—”

She never got a chance to finish the thought before his mouth latched on to hers. The whole evening, she’d been waiting for this. The whole evening, he’d been seducing her with candles and saxophones and his burping techniques and his blowing bubbles on the baby’s tummy…and being in that tub, naked with him, because dark or not, he had to know darn well where her eyes were straying all this time.

She made a soft sound of longing, of want, that he sipped in during another slow, lazy, liquid kiss. His warm, slippery skin rubbed against her warm, slippery skin. His tummy rubbed her tummy. Breasts snugged against his chest, where his wiry dark chest hairs glistened and the orbs of his shoulders gleamed dark gold. His long, strong legs slid and rubbed against her slim, softer limbs. He was inside her before she could catch a breath, had her legs wrapped around his waist before she’d had time to consider whether this was even possible.

“We’re going to drown,” she feared.

“I already am drowning,” he said, and dived for another kiss, taking her tongue. His hands splayed, clasping her fanny, melding the two of them even closer together. Inside, she felt that secret, hot pulsing between them. On the outside, there was nothing but that womb of water, the magic of him, the stars on the water surface caused from the candlelight, the stars in her eyes caused from the look in his.

“I have no protection,” he remembered suddenly.

“Good,” she said.

Again, his mouth tipped in a slow, intimate grin. “If you think I mind if we make a baby, Win, you must be out of yours. I hope we have half a dozen. And I’m warning you now, my plan for the rest of the evening is to love you ’til the cows come home.”

“Good,” she said again.

“It’ll be two nights without sleep. We’ll both be basket cases tomorrow.”

“Good,” she said again.

“If you think—”

Holy moly, how the man could talk. She framed his face with her hands to pull him closer. Then flexed her thighs to wrap him closer in that way. He didn’t talk any more after that. Neither did she, although, tarnation, they made a horrible mess. Water splashed over the marble sides, onto the floor. Once they sank under and nearly drowned. He rolled with her on top, then maneuvered her right under the pulsing hot jets where the dark, silky water pulsed intimately on both of them, never separating from her for an instant, never losing rhythm, just spinning, spinning….

Spinning a magic spell, she thought helplessly, that she never wanted to wake up from. Somewhere that night, she lost all her inhibitions. The good ones. The important ones. The inhibitions that she’d cultivated so carefully her whole life because she was so absolutely sure that she needed them to survive. With him, everything was different. With him, she felt as abandoned as she’d ever imagined….

But in the most joyful of all ways.

“I love you, Winona Raye,” he whispered, just as he hurled them both over the last crest and tipped them into ecstasy.

The next day, as Winona was driving to lunch with Angel propped in the car seat next to her, she suddenly laughed out loud. All morning, memories from the night before had been rolling through her mind, making her buoyant and smiley all over again…but this time, her sense of humor was sparked for another reason.

Last night, she’d finally said yes to him. In fact, Winona suddenly remembered how many times she’d given Justin an opening to set a specific marriage date. Only he hadn’t.

For a man who’d been hustling her to the altar faster than the speed of light, it just struck her funny bone that he’d finally gotten what he wanted—and then forgotten to pin down the date.

Quickly Winona pulled into the one spare parking place in front of the Royal Diner, then scooped up Angel and all the baby paraphernalia it took to get the little one through a short lunch. “You know this place, now, don’t you, darlin’? And today we’re going to meet a friend.”

The minute they walked in, she spotted Pamela Miles, sitting in one of the front booths. “Darn it, I didn’t mean to be late, Pam. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting—”

“Not at all. I’ve just been here a minute. And what do we have here?”

Winona smiled, watched Pamela make a fuss over Angel—who hammed up for the attention, kicking and bubble-blowing. “This is Angel, and she’s the reason I asked to meet with you. But let’s get lunch ordered, okay? I’m guessing that you don’t have any more spare time than I do.”

Sheila, cracking gum, brought her pad over to take their orders. “Hey, Pam, the bruises are starting to fade finally, huh? You look like you’re doing way better, sweetie pie.”

“I’m fine, except still having a little trouble getting an appetite.”

Winona shot the second-grade teacher another, sharper, look. For a moment she’d forgotten that Pamela had hoped to be an exchange teacher in Asterland for the winter term, and had been traveling on the plane that crashed. “You really are feeling okay?” she asked.

“Fine. Honestly, compared to some of the others, I didn’t go through anything. Just some bangs and bruises. Although I have to admit that I was really shook up for the first few days after the crash. It was quite an experience. I still can’t seem to eat much.”

“I take it that your plans to go over there and teach were put on hold?”

“Yes. I’d still love to, but it’ll have to be another time. They couldn’t hold the job and leave children without a teacher, obviously, and right after the crash, I wasn’t sure how fast I could get there and be functioning. It just made the most sense for both sides for me to cancel out. So I’ve got a little unexpected time off. It won’t kill me to relax until next term—but please, Winona, I don’t want to waste your lunch hour on just catching up. I know you said you needed to talk to me seriously about something.”

“Yes,” Winona said, but then she hesitated. The two women knew each other through their respective jobs. Several times, Pamela had asked her to come in and talk to her second graders, and Winona had loved the opportunity. Before that, all Winona had ever heard was that Pamela’s mother had quite an unfortunate reputation in town—which was always a complete surprise to anyone first meeting Pam. She was plain, inclined to wearing dowdy Peter Pan collars and demure, concealing styles. She wore her black hair short and simple, and never seemed to bother with much makeup. Her features lit up around children, though, showing off dimples and big blue eyes. She seemed to be a quiet, genuine person in a way that Winona had always liked. She just didn’t quite know how to approach this subject, but she had to start somewhere.

“I’m guessing you’ve heard through the gossip grapevine about Angel. Someone abandoned her on my doorstep a couple weeks ago. I’ve been trying to track down the mother ever since.”

“You bet, I heard. The whole town’s charmed at you running around doing your cop thing with a baby in tow.”

Winona nodded. “I know you work with the younger kids, rather than be exposed much to teenagers. But I’m really having trouble finding leads to Angel’s mom. I don’t know for sure that her mother was a teenager—but it has to be someone from town, because if she didn’t know who I was, she’d have had no reason to leave the baby with a note to me specifically. So I was hoping—”

“You were hoping I’d know something?”

“Yeah. I figured it was a long shot to ask you—but all the standard routes I’ve tried have ended up dead ends. Everyone says that kids all ages just naturally talk to you. So I was hoping you might have heard something about a girl in trouble….”

“Well, darn. There is someone.” Pamela tapped her fingers on the tabletop. “I’m trying to remember the woman’s name. She was at the Texas Cattleman’s Club party early this month—someone said she’d lost a baby before Christmas, but at the time, that struck me as odd. You know how it is in Royal. The whole town would have turned out for a funeral, anything to help someone going through a loss like that. Only there was no funeral—” Pamela suddenly shook her head. “This is nuts. I really don’t know anything. That was just vague gossip I heard at the time, and to tell you the truth, I was only paying attention to one thing at that party—”

“Uh-huh.” Because Angel started fussing, Winona picked up the baby and plugged in a bottle, although she shot a woman-to-woman grin at Pamela. “I saw you dancing with Aaron Black, girl.”

Color bloomed on Pamela’s cheeks. “I felt like Cinderella at the ball—and believe me, I’m not into fairy tales. I’m not usually a party person, either. The only reason I went to that gathering was because I was planning on teaching in Asterland, and I thought I’d have a chance to meet more Asterlanders there…but I just don’t belong in a group like that.”

Winona sensed the other woman’s insecurity and pounced. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on. You know Aaron—he looks like a fairy-tale prince. Tall and sophisticated and good-looking…”

“Well, yeah, he’s a nice-looking man.” Winona knew Aaron. Everyone did. His diplomacy work took him overseas so much that he was rarely home except around the holidays, but she remembered seeing him at Justin’s shindig. It was just, compared to Justin, no man seemed hot. Not anymore.

“Hmm. I saw you at that party, too, Winona. It’s no wonder you didn’t pay that much attention to Aaron. You only had your eyes on one guy yourself.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Come on. I saw you dancing with a bunch of guys. But you still only had eyes for Dr. Webb.”

Winona was so startled at Pamela’s observation that she accidentally dislodged the bottle from the baby’s mouth. Was it possible, that others had noticed the chemistry between her and Justin before she’d realized it?

When Angel sputtered, she popped the bottle back in, unconsciously rocking and soothing the baby at the same time…but her mind was really spinning now. She’d always had special feelings for him. She’d also always seemed to notice things about him that others never saw—like that the playboy reputation he’d cultivated was never true, and that there was a whole emotional side to him that he never showed to the world.

Maybe she’d always felt the seeds of love, Winona mused, and maybe he had, too. But still, something had triggered his asking her to marry him in a serious way. And anxiety suddenly threaded a drumbeat in her pulse. Everything had been going so well, but she still hadn’t shaken the sensation that something was wrong. Something not right in Justin’s life, in his heart, that he hadn’t shared with her.

“Okay, I’ll quit teasing you,” Pamela said. “If you don’t want to talk about your doctor hunk, I won’t press. And I promise, I’ll keep my ear to the ground on anything I might hear about Angel’s mother.” She motioned to the baby, and hesitated. “You want to keep her, don’t you?” she asked softly.

“Yeah.” Winona could feel her eyes burning. “I already feel like she’s mine. But what matters is that we know what happened. It’s the best way to protect the baby’s future long-term. The truth. Not just wishful thinking.”

“I’m afraid that’s true of life, too. Unfortunately.” Pamela suddenly pressed a hand on her abdomen. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

Winona saw the gesture. “Are you ill? Do you need some help?”

“No, no, I’m fine. It’s just that ever since that darned plane crash, nothing seems to sit well on my stomach. Maybe it’s a little post-traumatic stress or some silly nonsense like that. It’s only been a couple of weeks. I figure I’ll be patient a little longer before throwing in the towel and seeing a doc. Anyway…” She stood up, pressed Winona’s hand and kissed the baby’s forehead, before heading for the door.

Angel seemed to finish the bottle at the same time. Winona lifted the baby to her shoulder, patting her, burping her, still smiling a goodbye as Pamela left…but the smile slowly faded from her face. She snuggled the baby close.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something troubling Justin that she didn’t understand. Before, it hadn’t mattered. Before, it hadn’t been her business, her right to know or ask or help.

But now it was.

And now her heart was hanging out there, at risk in a way she’d never risked her heart before. For a man who was worth it. But a man she suddenly wasn’t sure really needed—or wanted—her.