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“I’m a realist, Carrie. You’re a...”

“I know what I am! Go ahead, be cynical.” She glared at him, an inner fire now lighting her eyes. “You were a good reporter. Heck, you’re even famous. But here’s what I think. I think you got some kind of kick out of seeing the awfulness of mankind. I think it confirms what your dark, brooding soul has always believed—that our world is a miserable place. And that, Keegan Breen, is just plain sad, and that’s why I feel sorry for you.”

“You know what I think, Carrie?”

She scowled. “I think you’ve made it quite clear.”

He smiled, because in truth he was enjoying this moment more than many he’d experienced in a long time. He more than liked this fighter Carrie. He more than admired her. “I think we’ve pegged each other pretty accurately. We haven’t been together two weeks yet, and we know each other as well as if we’d been friends for years.”

Secretly, he was starting to hope they could be more...

Rescued By Mr. Wrong

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