Читать книгу A Wedding She'll Never Forget - Robyn Grady - Страница 9

When Ariella stopped shaking and had gathered herself enough to be on her way—taking with her the paper that confirmed she was, indeed, the president’s daughter—Scarlet traveled back to work.

On the road, her mind kept wheeling back over the fact that Ted Morrow would have received the positive results by now, too. Scarlet pitied Ariella the media attention that would multiply tenfold now, particularly from the hyenas at ANS who had first broken the paternity scandal wide open. Hopefully some good would come from all this, though. A father and his daughter being reunited for one. And maybe the story wouldn’t end there….

The president was a bachelor. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if, after all these years, Ted Morrow and Ariella’s mother were not only reintroduced but married? What an amazing ceremony that would be. And, after a lifetime of separation, Ariella would have her biological family back again.

For the rest of the afternoon, Scarlet was kept busy with inquiries as well as putting the finishing touches to a client’s big day to be held at the Washington National Cathedral. Girls dreamed of one day walking down the aisle of that gothic-inspired masterpiece. The famed Canterbury Cathedral had supplied the stone from which the pulpit was carved. Memorials to persons and events of national significance were on display, including statues of presidents Washington and Lincoln. Seals were embedded in the narthex’s marble floor and the nave was lined with state flags.

Heading into her office, Scarlet smiled.

Only in D.C.

But before any bride and groom could consider the National Cathedral as a venue, at least one of three strict requirements must be met, which Everett’s family did. The bride or groom could have an alumnus connection with a cathedral school. The bride or groom or immediate family member could be employed by the cathedral. Or the bride, groom or immediate family member might be a prominent donor or significant volunteer. Apparently Everett and his parents donated regularly and extremely well when the plate was passed around.. He’d even mentioned the night before, after the proposal, about submitting a request for him and Scarlet to be married there. At the time Scarlet had thought not of herself but of her parents; how ridiculously proud they would be. Then she’d imagined her mother poring over the arrangements, particularly the highly prized invitations list. Faith Anders would want to include everyone who mattered. Everett’s parents would feel the same way.

Given her parents’ social standing, Scarlet had always known that her own special day would be big, with every convention not only followed but prominently displayed. She’d organized enough of those weddings to know they could be exhausting for the bride. But then anything worthwhile usually was.

As Scarlet packed up for the day, her thoughts wandered more. What kind of a wedding would Daniel McNeal want? Something casual. Even zany, perhaps. Certainly nothing that would suit her needs or taste. Anyway, Mr. McNeal didn’t strike her as the marrying kind.

About to head out, she stopped to catch a private call on her cell.

“Ariella rang,” Cara Cranshaw began. “She left a message. I only got ahold of her now. She told me the results.”

“I wonder when the paparazzi will get wind of the news. No offense.”

“Believe me, Max doesn’t like the way this was handled by the press any more than we do.”

Max Grayson had been a reporter before switching to an off-camera role.

“How was Ariella when she left you?” Cara asked.

“Resigned to the fact that nothing will ever be the same.” Scarlet closed her office door behind her.

“I asked her over. I figured she might need some company but she said she’d rather be alone tonight.”

Scarlet had thought about offering her friend company, as well. “I’ll text and say we’re here if she needs us.”

“What are you doing tonight?” Cara asked. “I’m staying at Max’s place, but he’s working until late. Your man’s out of town for a few days, isn’t he?”

Moving toward the front reception area, Scarlet’s thoughts skidded to a halt. By “your man,” Cara had meant Everett, but for some crazy reason Daniel McNeal’s face had flashed in her mind. As if he were standing before her now, with that crooked grin and sexy dark blond bed-hair, awareness rippled through her, making every one of her extremities tingle.

Totally inappropriate.

Back straight, she continued on her way, picking up the thread of the conversation.

“One of Everett’s New York clients needed some figures evaluated.”

“Why don’t you come over, then?” Cara said. “We can dabble with details for the reception. I’m still torn about a color scheme.”

Scarlet hesitated. Now that Ariella didn’t want company tonight, she’d half thought about forgetting the outside world for a while and chilling out with a glass of wine. But she adored Cara’s company. And aside from the fun of discussing her friend’s wedding, she did have her own bit of news to share.

Or should she wait for the ring to be on her finger? For Everett to return from New York … There really wasn’t any rush.

“Sure.” Scarlet breezed through the foyer. Although Cara and Max as good as lived together now, Cara had kept her great loft apartment so Scarlet hadn’t needed to visit Max’s penthouse yet, but she knew the address from the Cranshaw-Grayson Wedding file. “See you in an hour.”

Lee, their effervescent receptionist, had already left for the day. But halfway to the door, something on the front counter caught Scarlet’s eye and dragged her all the way back. A dozen roses—a mix of yellow, coral and peach—sat perfectly arranged in a round glass bowl. Inhaling, Scarlet sighed at their exquisite perfume. Her fingertips brushed the velvet-soft petals. But the best part—the thing that set this bouquet above any other—was the highly original add-in. Perched atop an artificial stem sat a toy animal. A marsupial to be exact.

A boxing kangaroo dressed in a tuxedo and a big black bow tie.

At home, Scarlet ran a deep bubble bath and put on a favorite classical CD. While she soaked, she reconsidered Ariella’s situation, then dwelled again on the thousand and one details relating to the cathedral wedding they were planning. But her thoughts kept swerving back to Daniel McNeal, his kangaroo-topped bouquet and the way he’d caught her in his arms when that fateful misstep had sent her toppling off her ladder.

Sinking lower in the scented suds, she recalled how his blue gaze had burned, leaving her lips feeling scorched and her equilibrium in tatters. She’d been attracted to men before but never in this quivery, syrupy way that left her short of breath and, for the first time in her life, reassessing who she was. Even doubting what she wanted.

Was this sudden irrational attraction a common enough case of cold feet?

As far as Scarlet was concerned, aside from having children, getting married was the most important event of a person’s life. Being a little anxious was only natural even though she’d known Everett for over a year. On all fronts they got on well. Most importantly, she loved him. Not dizzy, cry-myself-to-sleep-over-you love but rather an appropriate, stable kind of affection. Which was a far cry from her intense schoolgirl reaction to Daniel.

What was love—a sound marriage—based on, anyway? Respect and support of mutual goals. Not wild, lust-driven emotions for someone who was so obviously her opposite. Daniel exuded a blistering energy that would likely set off fireworks in any woman’s central nervous system. He was insanely handsome, charismatic and confident. From what she’d seen of it, his tall, toned physique was exceptional. His personality was cheeky. Intriguing.

Like his see-all blue eyes.

Out of the tub and drying off, Scarlet crossed into her bedroom’s walk-in closet. Her fingers skimmed business skirts and after-five dresses. When she paused at a pair of jeans, she remembered the way the denim had hugged Daniel’s muscled thighs today and a breath fluttered in her throat. She didn’t often wear jeans. Cruisy Daniel McNeal might suggest she didn’t wear them often enough. But she wasn’t dressing for him tonight. Or any other night, for that matter.

Before pulling on a light angora sweater and black tailored pants, she called a cab and pulled a bottle of Chablis from the fridge. Because of her condition, Cara wouldn’t drink but Scarlet could go one or two herself tonight.

Scarlet soon arrived at Max Grayson’s address. Her friend answered the door to the penthouse with a welcoming smile.

“Come on in,” Cara said, stepping aside. “I was about to call you.”

“I’m a little late. I indulged in a lovely long bath….”

Stepping over the threshold, Scarlet’s words trailed off. A voice was filtering out from the living room into the foyer. A man’s voice. Deep. Rumbling. She frowned.

Cara had said Max would be working late.

Then another male voice replied to the first and Scarlet’s heart leaped to her instantly clogged throat. That accent was unmistakable. What was he doing here? This was supposed to be a quiet girls’ night in, not a foursome, and certainly not with Daniel McNeal.

What would she say if he mentioned those flowers? Worse, how would she react if he smiled at her that certain unsettling way? She’d bet her town house he’d find an excuse to prowl into her off-limits personal space.

Scarlet took a shaky step back.

She had to go.

“You said Max was working late.”

“He surprised me.”

“I don’t want to interrupt.”

Laughing softly, Cara urged her friend forward. “You’re not interrupting, silly. In fact, there’s someone here we’d like you to meet.”

Scarlet’s thoughts and stomach lurched. She needed an excuse. Needed to get out of here fast. But Cara had a hold of her arm now and, with each doubtful step, those voices grew louder, clearer. A series of internal brushfires ignited, pumping forbidden heat through her veins, leaving her feeling flushed and all the more flustered. Then she and Cara stood beneath an arch that led into the living room and two pair of eyes glanced their way.

She was vaguely aware of Max’s smile, his standing to greet her and saying hello. She was a thousand times more attuned to the presence of that other man. As Daniel’s lidded gaze embraced hers, she was consumed by sensations that were so powerful and bright she felt as if she’d been struck by a bolt of lightning.

Cara introduced her. “Daniel McNeal, I’d like you to meet a dear friend, Scarlet Anders.”

With a knowing grin, Daniel languidly pushed to his feet. “We’ve met.”

“You have?” Blinking, Cara’s gaze shifted back and forth between the two of them. “Where? When? You’ve only been in town a day.”

In her daze, Scarlet recognized that Daniel had swapped jeans for custom-made dark trousers and a crisp white shirt. As he strolled over, his polished lace-ups gleamed in the track lighting and a gold cuff link flashed as he extended a big bronzed hand. Without thinking, she accepted the gesture and that lightning bolt struck again, zapping and sizzling up her arm until, with a starburst, it hit her chest as well as a little south of her navel. It didn’t help when his fingers wrapped around hers and squeezed just a little like they had earlier that day.

“We met this morning,” he said, then proceeded to fill his audience in on how he’d shown up at DC Affairs and saved her from that stepladder fall.

“Thank God you were there,” Cara said while Scarlet pried her gaze away from Daniel’s to concentrate on the fact that he still held her hand. Bringing herself back to the conversation, she gently pulled her hand away.

“I’ve already thanked Mr. McNeal for his help.”

“Mr. McNeal?” Cara pulled a wry face. “You’re not at the office now. Let me take that bottle of wine. Max, can you pour Scarlet a drink? Something with bubbles to celebrate friends coming together.”

Scarlet’s attention skirted around Daniel’s frame. Max was headed for the bar, but he looked quizzically over his shoulder at his two guests, as if he knew something he shouldn’t. Had Daniel already confided in his friend the fact that they’d met? That he’d asked her out to dinner? If that were the case, surely Max would have mentioned she was dating someone….

Although Max had only once seen her with Everett, and her date had spent half the time away from their table on his cell. Understandable. Even forgivable. Everett’s services were in high demand.

Daniel was escorting her to the two sofas in the living room. Cara had lowered onto the three-seater. Max, having handed over a chilled glass of champagne to their latest guest, was joining her. Left with no choice, Scarlet sank onto the two-seater, and Daniel sat beside her. Finding his glass—containing what looked like a soda—he proposed a toast.

“To rescuing a damsel in distress.”

Raising her own lime soda, Cara beamed. “Hear, hear. Although I’ve never known Scarlet to need saving before.”

Daniel’s brows arched and a sexy bracket formed at one side of his mouth as he smiled. “Is that so?”

“Of all my friends, Scarlet is the one least likely to crumple under pressure.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Scarlet was thinking of Ariella and how well she’d handled the recent media attention. She doubted, put in the same situation, she’d handle that kind of news with anything less than a lock-me-away-for-a-month meltdown.

“Scarlet, honestly.” Cara set her glass on the coffee table. “In your world, nothing’s ever out of place. You invented the word poise.”

“Begs the question, doesn’t it? What do you do to unwind?” Daniel asked casually while Scarlet, her mind gone blank, clasped her hands in her lap.

To unwind? “Well … I, er, like to ski.”

“Me, too.” Daniel laughed. “On the water, though, not in Aspen.”

Scarlet didn’t allow herself to imagine him in bathing shorts. Those shoulders, that chest … Lord, she might hyperventilate.

“I like to read and go to the theater,” she added.

Daniel considered that, then asked, “How about bikes?”

“I own a bike,” she replied, “but I don’t get out near enough. Peddling around is good exercise, though.”

“I mean motorbikes.”

“As long as I’ve known him,” Max said, “Daniel has loved belting down a highway on two wheels.”

Scarlet forced a polite smile. “I’m afraid I’ve never been on that kind of a bike.”

“You should try it.” Daniel tipped a fraction closer and his intoxicating masculine scent drifted into her system. “I could take you out. Bet you’d like it.”

She pinned him with a warning look. “Bet I wouldn’t.”

“Maybe we should call that cab now,” Max pitched in.

Scarlet glanced across. “What cab?”

“When Max showed up with Daniel,” Cara said, “and I told them I was expecting you, he suggested we all go out to grab a bite.”

Daniel looked at her innocently. “Would you like to come out to dinner?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Thank you, no.”

“Scarlet, are you feeling all right?”

At the concerned note in Cara’s voice, Scarlet preened back her ruffled feathers and remembered where she was, who she was with. She made it a point never to be rude. That only revealed weakness. A lack of self-control.

“I’m fine,” she said evenly. “I’m just … not dressed to go out.”

Cara waved the excuse away. “You look fabulous, as always.”

Cornered, Scarlet took a good long sip of champagne. Cara might not have picked up on the thrust and parry game she and Daniel were playing but, from the gleam in his eye, Daniel McNeal wanted Scarlet to know he was intent on pursuing her. She ought to tell him here and now she was unavailable. In fact, what was stopping her? She didn’t need to be gauche and slap him around the head with it. Perhaps if she happened to mention that she was missing Everett.

Even if that wasn’t strictly true. Everett hadn’t been gone twenty-four hours, and she’d had a pile of other stuff filling her head.

“Scarlet was very helpful today,” Daniel was saying.

Her chin tucked in. “I was?”

“When you agreed to work with me on some ideas I’d like to contribute to the wedding,” he reminded her.

“I said I’d look over your ideas.”

“What kind of ideas?” Cara asked.

“A couple of small things,” he said, “that won’t clash with etiquette or good taste.”

Daniel sent Scarlet a mischievous “proud of me?” grin while Cara’s eyes shone with affection.

“I’m not the least surprised she made herself available,” Cara said. “Scarlet’s not only a great friend, she’s the best wedding planner around.”

Scarlet burned to speak up. Yes, she was Cara’s friend and would do anything in her power to make certain her big day was everything it should be, and more. But that didn’t equate to spending time with Daniel. He made her feel uncomfortable. Restless. Or was that reckless?

Not herself at all.

Cara pushed to her feet. “I’ll just go get my bag.”

“Wait for me. I’ll grab my wallet and cell phone.” Following Cara, Max apologized to his guests, “We won’t be long.”

Daniel reassured him. “Take your time.”

When they were alone, he sat back and simply waited. Eventually, over the lump of irritation building in her throat, Scarlet managed to speak.

“I received your flowers,” she told him. “I admit the kangaroo was a novel touch.”

“The florist thought so, too.”

“By the card, the florist is the woman you met today. Katie. She owns the shop a couple of doors down from DC Affairs.”

“Right. Now it makes sense. On the phone she seemed particularly pleased with the order.”

Scarlet bristled. Enough.

“You need to know.” She set her flute down. “I’m seeing someone.”

His forehead creased. “Does your florist friend know?”

“She does now.”

“I don’t see any ring on your finger.” When she inhaled a shocked breath, the ruthless slant of his mouth faded and his shoulders rolled back. “So, go ahead and tell me. Are you serious about this guy? And before you answer, I want you to know that I think you’re a beautiful, intriguing, slightly priggish woman, who I am thankful has finally agreed to come out this evening.”

“I did not agree to go out with you.” She blinked. “Did you say priggish?”

“Don’t take it as an insult. Prim is highly attractive on you. Although I can’t help but want to see more of your less guarded side.”

“I’m not guarded.” Crossing her legs, she refolded her hands on her lap. “I’m careful.”

His voice lowered. “I think you should come for a ride with me. I sense there’s a whole lot more to Scarlet Anders and I want the chance to get to know every bit of her.”

As his gaze roamed her face and her throat, a dangerous fizzy feeling sailed through her body, calling her, drawing her, and as if tugged by an invisible string she tipped a fraction closer, too. Then one corner of his mouth curved up and, appalled by her behavior—at her craving—she jerked back again.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re too …” She emptied her lungs, took another shallow breath. “You’re too close.”

“It’s going to be difficult,” he said. “Sitting beside you all night. Telling myself that I shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t what?”

In that deep drugging voice, he murmured, “Kiss you, of course.”

Watching the color and emotion in Scarlet’s eyes deepen and grow, Daniel followed the instinct that told him to lean in. He’d thought about her surrender—about this moment—all day long. Now he was a heartbeat away from claiming that much anticipated kiss.

Then a familiar voice rang out.

“Did we interrupt something?”

Driving down an audible breath, Scarlet sat ramrod straight as they both glanced up to where Cara stood in the adjoining doorway, her expression tinged with curiosity. A second later, she released an understanding grin.

“Are you two going over those ideas of Daniel’s?” Cara moved forward. “I cannot wait to hear what they are.”

Looking a little unsteady, Scarlet got to her feet. When her leg bumped the table, Daniel caught the slender stem of her glass while she fumbled for words and her usual aplomb.

“Actually, I’m sorry, but I need to go,” Scarlet said. “Everett sent a text message. He wants me to call straightaway.”

Daniel’s jaw tightened. So, when the pressure was on, his angel wasn’t adverse to a little white lie.

“Everett?” he asked, knowing full well who he was.

“That’s right.” Looking down at him, Scarlet added, “Matheson III.”

“Impressive name,” Daniel drawled.

“He’s an impressive man.”

Obviously not too impressive. He might have taken Scarlet out a couple of times but he hadn’t held her attention. And she was the kind of woman who deserved a man’s full attention, whenever and wherever she pleased. But she obviously felt strongly about dear Everett. He’d be a clod not to acknowledge that now.

Stopping behind the sofa, Cara spoke to her friend. “If you need privacy to call, use the study or my bedroom.”

“I could be a while.” Scarlet collected her designer tote off the sofa’s end and wound the strap securely over her shoulder. “I don’t want to hold you all up.”

Cara’s brow creased in concern. “Must be important.”

Scarlet nodded. “It really is.”

At the door, she apologized again and she and Cara hugged, after which Max dropped a parting kiss on her cheek and Daniel offered to see her down.

“No need,” Scarlet replied firmly. “I’m fine.”

“What I mean is, I’m going, too,” Daniel explained to Max and Cara. “You guys don’t need a third wheel.”

“You and Max don’t see each other often enough,” Cara pointed out. “Of course you’re not in the way.”

But Max gave his fiancée’s shoulder a light squeeze. “Plenty of time,” he said. “We’ll catch up another time.”

During their grindingly slow descent, Scarlet stood on her side of the elevator, Daniel stood on his. The Cold War had nothing on this. Any moment the bomb would hit and all hell would break loose.

“For our friends’ sake,” she finally said, glaring at the metallic doors, “you and I need to get along. I want to make clear, once and for all, that can’t happen if you’re constantly hitting on me.”

“I know.”

She blinked across at him. “You do?”

“As much as I want to pursue this—” and enjoy more of Scarlet’s company on more personal terms “—I won’t.”

Arching a brow, she crossed her arms and looked ahead again. “That’s way too easy.”

“It’s the truth.”

Maybe sometime in the future, she’d let down her wall and they’d get together. But right now she was dead-on about their friends coming first and him needing to respect boundaries. By nature he was strong-minded and competitive but never antisocial.

“Think we can start again?” he asked.

“On a just-friends basis?” She rearranged her arms, then wound them tight again. “Frankly, I’m not sure I trust you.”

“I’ll put together some references.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you should.”

But when they got off the elevator and journeyed across the building’s lobby, her stride became less ardent, her expression less pained.

“If Cara trusts Max and Max trusts you,” she said as he opened the foyer’s glass door for her, “I guess I can cut you some slack and move on.”

Pleased, he moved with her out into the evening air, which smelled of a change on the way. As a young couple walking their black schnauzer strolled by and a rain cloud swept over the full moon, Daniel tipped an imaginary cap.

“I’ll be seeing you, then.”

Scarlet surrendered a small but genuine smile. “No doubt.”

He headed for the parking lot next door. Rounding the corner, he flicked a glance back. He’d expected to see her heading off to find her own car. Instead, she was standing on the curb, flagging down a cab. Pulling up, he set his hands low on his hips as the odd spot of rain hit his head. The cab sailed past. A moment later, so did another. When the raindrops grew heavier, Daniel walked back.

She was fishing around in her tote as he joined her. Startled, her focus kicked up.

“Daniel. I thought you’d gone.”

He hooked a thumb toward the parking lot. “My car’s that way.”

“I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“This one’s nonnegotiable. Our friends would never forgive me if they knew I left you standing here alone, waiting—” he fanned out his palms, studied the sky “—with the clouds about to let loose into the bargain.”

“If Cara knew the circumstances—”

“She’d tell you to set pride aside and take the lift.” With a flourishing wave, he indicated the way to his car. “Your gilded carriage awaits.”

She looked set to argue but then a sudden wind picked up and she saw reason. Sliding the strap of her tote back up on her shoulder, she headed off. Daniel fell in step beside her.

Soon they were nestled in his vehicle’s bucket seats and Daniel ignited the engine. He set the wipers on low and, after she supplied an address, he pulled out. During the next few minutes, her frostiness thawed more. She even started a conversation, but Daniel assumed it was to be polite more than anything.

“Do your family live in Australia?” she asked.

“Dad’s in Sydney. Foster dad, actually,” he corrected himself, then added, “My mother died some time ago.”

“Oh, Daniel, I’m sorry. She would’ve been proud of your success. Were you very young?”

“Old enough to remember,” he said, swallowing the pit that swelled whenever he thought of those early years, of what had happened and the price they’d all paid. Not a subject he ever elaborated on. Not with his closest friend. Not with anyone. Scarlet, of course, wasn’t to know that.

“What about your father?” she asked. “Your biological dad. Hope I’m not prying.”

He increased the wiper speed. “It’s a topical question, given Ariella Winthrop’s situation. Guess the verdict will be out soon there.”

“Guess so.”

Daniel slid a look across at her. Eyes on the road, Scarlet had her lips pressed together. Did she know something most of the world didn’t? Ariella would want to share the results of that paternity test with her closest friends, but Scarlet obviously wasn’t the type to break a confidence. Full credit to her.

“Either way, that story will give the media grist for a good while to come,” he said.

“You’re in the information-sharing business, too,” she pointed out.

“But Waves truly is about freedom of speech. Everyday people like you and I get to decide what needs to be discussed.”

“You class yourself as ordinary?”

“Just a regular bloke.”

“Great to know obscene wealth hasn’t affected you. We’ll ignore the fact you’re driving a Lamborghini.”

With no traffic in the near vicinity, he changed gears and showed his passenger—for a few gravity-challenged seconds—why he was in love with this baby. When he dropped speed again and Scarlet’s hands released their death grip on her thighs, he asked, “What about your family?”

“I’ll tell you if you promise not to do that again.”

He changed down another gear.

“They live in Georgetown, too,” she said.

“Not too close for you?”

“We’re a close family. In a healthy way. I make my own decisions. You know. Run my own life.”

He chuckled. “Don’t try so hard to convince me.”

She fell quiet before adding, “Truth is … sometimes they do jump in with an opinion. But I guess most mothers are like that. Overly protective.”

He inhaled deeply, then swallowed that damn ache again.

The GPS gave a few more instructions before he pulled up outside a block of upmarket town houses. The rain had stopped so he shut down the wipers. When he left the engine running, however, she seemed surprised.

“You’re not seeing me to the door?”

“You don’t want me to.”

“Wow. You really are trying.” Then she cocked her head. “Unless this is a reverse psychology thing where pulling back is supposed to draw me deeper into your web.”

He held up his hands. “No webs. I didn’t even see the latest Spider-Man flick. Yet.”

“I’ve seen it twice. Right through to the very last credit.”

“Well, a movie’s not over until you’ve scanned the hundred names under visual effects.”

“Now you’re mocking me.”

“Never.”

She tried to hide a grin. “And here I was thinking you were the type who enjoyed getting a rise out of poor unsuspecting folk like me.”

“Only if I’m sure they won’t belt me.”

“Then I should warn you I have a power right hook.”

“Which is why I have only the utmost respect for you.”

That twinge of a grin grew. “You do, huh?”

“Yeah.” He paused. “I really do.”

Her eyes were so bright. In the light filtering through her window, her face appeared almost luminous. Free of pretense. Even vulnerable.

Then, as if realizing that vulnerability, Scarlet’s smile faded. At the same time, the space separating them seemed to shrink. That sense of sharing—of connecting—changed … spiraled wider, tunneled deeper. And then he was looking at her in a way he’d vowed that he wouldn’t.

The tips of his fingers curled around the leather of the steering wheel. He wouldn’t act on the need. Even when that superior force building inside of him was so strong … like a big wave curling over his head, pushing him forward, giving him no choice but to leave his sense of reason behind in the wash.

But in his heart of hearts, Daniel knew. Logic had never been the issue here. Not for either of them.