“Sometimes I Wish I Hadn’t Been So Damned Noble.” Letter to Reader Title Page About the Author Dedication Acknowledgments Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Epilogue Copyright

“Sometimes I Wish I Hadn’t Been So Damned Noble.”

Rick pulled Lori Lee into his arms, crushing her breasts to his chest, pressing her against him. “I should have taken you with me that night and said to hell with your innocence and with the barriers that stood between us.”

Lori Lee pulsated deep in the secret heart of her body. Longings more intense than any she’d ever known radiated through her. “I’ve always wondered what it would have been like with you.”

“I’d have been your first, if I’d taken you that night.”

The words were a statement, not a question. All the guys had known that Lori Lee Guy didn’t put out, that she was waiting for Prince Charming....

Dear Reader,

A book from Joan Hohl is always a delight, so I’m thrilled that this month we have her latest MAN OF THE MONTH, A Memorable Man. Naturally, this story is chock-full of Joan’s trademark sensuality and it’s got some wonderful plot twists that are sure to please you!

Also this month, Cindy Gerard’s latest in her NORTHERN LIGHTS BRIDES series, A Bride for Crimson Falls, and Beverly Barton’s “Southern sizzle” is highlighted in A Child of Her Own. Anne Eames has the wonderful ability to combine sensuality and humor, and A Marriage Made in Joeville features this talent.

The Baby Blizzard by Caroline Cross is sure to melt your heart this month—it’s an extraordinary love story with a hero and heroine you’ll never forget! And the month is completed with a sexy romp by Diana Mars, Matchmaking Mona.

In months to come, look for spectacular Silhouette Desire books by Diana Palmer, Jennifer Greene, Lass Small and many other fantastic Desire stars! And I’m always here to listen to your thoughts and opinions about the books. You can write to me at the address below.

Enjoy! I wish you hours of happy reading!

Lucia Macro

Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S. : 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

A Child Of Her Own

Beverly Barton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

BEVERLY BARTON

has been in love with romance since her grandfather gave her an illustrated book of Beauty and the Beast. An avid reader since childhood, she began writing at the age of nine and wrote short stories, poetry, plays and novels throughout high school and college. After marriage to her own “hero” and the births of her daughter and son, she chose to be a full-time homemaker, a.k.a. wife, mother, friend and volunteer.

When she returned to writing, she joined Romance Writers of America and helped found the Heart of Dixie chapter in Alabama. Since the release of her first Silhouette book in 1990, she has won the GRW Maggie Award, the National Readers’ Choice Award and has been a RITA finalist. Beverly considers writing romance books a real labor of love. Her stories come straight from the heart, and she hopes that all the strong and varied emotions she invests in her books will be felt by everyone who reads them.

For my daughter, Badiema Beaver Waldrep, and

her friend Beth Bange, the two prettiest girls to ever

grace the Deshler High School majorette line, and

Mandy Hall Files, former lovely DHS drum major.

And a special thanks to my good friend and a lady who,

as far as I’m concerned, should always be center stage,

Brenda Hall. I appreciate your sharing a hundred

and one interesting details with me about your

daughter Beth Bange’s Quad-Cities Twirlers,

National and World Champions.

One

Carrying a steel gray toolbox, Rick Warrick entered the Dixie Twirlers studio and immediately realized half a dozen women were sizing him up. Not that he wasn’t used to the fairer sex paying attention to him, but these weren’t good-time girls at a local bar. These were wives and mothers, some of them the cream of local society. Glancing around the huge open room, he noticed that the decor was definitely feminine, everything done in various shades of pink and lavender, with gold and silver accents. Surveying the bevy of ladies seated together in a lounge section at the back of the room, he didn’t see the studio’s owner, Ms. Lori Lee Guy, who had called for a repairman.

His partner, Bobo Lewis, had brought him up-to-date on Lori Lee’s life. She was a hometown girl who’d gone to the University of Alabama as a majorette, become homecoming queen and snagged herself a star quarterback. Although he had feigned indifference to Bobo’s gossip, Rick had been interested. It wasn’t that he’d been carrying a torch for Lori Lee all these years—he hadn’t—but he still considered her “the perfect female.” He had come to that conclusion when he’d been eighteen and fantasized about scoring with Deshler High School’s head majorette. Having seen her recently in passing on the street hadn’t changed his opinion.

A hot, jazzy tune drifted down from upstairs, mingling with the sound of dozens of feet tapping and interspersed with childish giggles.

“I’m looking for Ms. Guy,” Rick said, not localizing his stare, but taking in all six of the women. “She called about the heat.”

A plump redhead dressed in a multicolored sweat suit stood and, swaying her hips provocatively, sauntered over to Rick. “You’re Rick Warrick, aren’t you? I heard you were back in town and working for Bobo Lewis.”

“I’m Bobo’s partner,” Rick corrected her. He wished it wasn’t so important to him for people to know he was more than a hired hand. But dammit, it was important. Because that’s all he’d ever been until he’d come home to Tuscumbia and bought half-ownership in Bobo’s heating and air-conditioning business. “I’m sorry, ma’am, do we know each other?”

She smiled, deep dimples scoring her round cheeks. “You probably don’t remember me from high school. We didn’t run in the same circle, but all of us good girls had crushes on you.” She held out her pudgy hand. Expensive rings adorned several fingers and a diamond tennis bracelet circled her wrist. “I’m Deanie Webber. I used to be Deanie Smith.”

Rick couldn’t recall the woman, but he admired her honesty and liked her genuinely friendly manner. “It’s nice to see you again, Deanie. You must have a kid who takes baton lessons here.”

“Yes. She’s one of the little darlings upstairs freezing to death,” Deanie said. “Twinkle Toes are rehearsing right now. They’re the talented six-to-nine-year-olds. All of us have daughters in the group.”

“I suppose Ms. Guy is up there.” Rick nodded toward the staircase.

“Yes, go on up. I don’t think they’re doing much practicing. It’s too cold.” Deanie crossed her arms across her ample bosom and patted herself on her arms. “Lori Lee will be glad to see you. Do you think you can get the heat working soon?”

“I’ll give it my best shot once I find the trouble.” Rick glanced over Deanie’s shoulder at the five other women who were boldly staring at him.

He bounded up the stairs, wanting to escape the ladies’ inspection. He heard a buzzing of female voices, the words bad boy, heartbreaker and always in trouble following his ascent to the second floor.

The second story was a large, open space with a row of windows across the front of the building and well-worn hardwood flooring. Music blared from a jam-box sitting on the wooden floor. Six little girls of various sizes circled their teacher, each child trying to talk at once.

Rick cleared his throat. No one noticed. “Excuse me. I’m A. K. Warrick. I’m here from Lewis Heating and Air.”

Suddenly silence claimed the children as all heads turned in Rick’s direction. Lori Lee Guy, her hand on a child’s shoulder, looked across the room and, for one split second, her heart stopped beating. The black-haired man standing there in his faded jeans, ratty navy sweater and old brown leather jacket took her breath away. Big, tall and badly in need of a shave and a haircut, he dominated the room with his powerful masculine presence.

“Hello,” Lori Lee said, amazed that she could speak with her heart caught in her throat. “The heat’s not working. It was fine yesterday, but when I came over this afternoon to turn up the thermostat, it wouldn’t kick on.”

“If you’ll show me where the unit is, I’ll check it out.” Rick tried not to stare too hard. He didn’t want to be obvious in his survey, but this was the closest he’d been to her in fifteen years, and he was tempted to drink his fill. She was even more beautiful now than she’d been as a teenager. She was still round and curvy in all the right places. Full breasted, wide hipped, long legged. A trim, hourglass figure. But a mature elegance had replaced her fresh, youthful innocence.

The picture of casual loveliness in her pale blue winter tights and her oversize white mid-thigh sweater, Lori Lee glided across the floor, followed by her pint-size entourage. Her shoulder-length blond ponytail bounced up and down on her back.

“The unit’s in the basement, I’m afraid. It’ll be even colder down there. I don’t know why the heat had to go out the first week in January.” Lori Lee paused before she reached Rick’s side, turned abruptly, placed her hands on her hips and faced the children. “Go on downstairs, and as soon as I’ve shown Mr. Warrick to the basement I’ll come up and we’ll discuss the Gadsden competition.”

She shuffled the girls ahead of her, sending them scurrying down to their mothers. Rick stood aside as she walked past him, then followed her down the steps.

“I heard he’s been in the penitentiary,” a female voice said.

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” another woman said. “Remember how he was always in trouble?”

“He still looks dangerous, doesn’t he?” A third voice asked. “And sinfully handsome.”

“Whatever he’s been doing these past fifteen years doesn’t really matter,” Deanie Webber told them. “He’s trying to make something of himself now. Ever since he came back to Tuscumbia last summer, he’s been a model citizen.”

Pausing on the stairway, Lori Lee glanced nervously at the man behind her. Even though he showed no indication, she knew he’d heard what was being said about him. She felt the tension emanating from his big body and saw his warm brown eyes turn hard and cold with pain. Instinctively her hand reached out in a comforting gesture, then her common sense took charge and prevented her from actually touching him.

Rick and Lori Lee exchanged an electrically charged stare, the air around them sizzling explosively. Turning around sharply and taking a deep, calming breath, she walked downstairs and opened the door leading to the basement. She flipped on the light switch, revealing the narrow steps.

“It’s dark and damp down here,” she said. “And a little spooky. There are closed-off tunnels that lead under Main Street.”

As they descended the stairs, musty, dank brick walls surrounded them. A single light bulb hanging from the ceiling illuminated the area. Cobwebs dangled from the rafters and spread across the corners like shimmery lace fans.

“You don’t have to stay down here with me, Ms. Guy.” Rick set his toolbox on top of an old wooden crate. “I’ll check things out and see if I can find your problem.”

“All right. If you don’t need me, I’ll go back up to my class.”

“I don’t need you,” he said.

For some reason Lori Lee felt that his words held a double meaning, as if he was warning her away, cautioning her to keep her distance. Did he realize the effect he had on her? Had her interest really been that obvious?

She went back upstairs, hesitating on the top step. She closed her eyes as memories of a long-ago night surged through her. Rick Warrick, a boy with hooded dark eyes and a hungry expression who watched her from a distance, had shown up at a Friday night Debutante Club party after one of Deshler’s big games. He wasn’t one of their usual crowd and she’d never seen him at one of their parties before, but when she went out on the front porch to look for her boyfriend, Jimmy Davison, she encountered the town bad boy instead. Wearing a brown leather jacket, he leaned against one of the white columns, a beer in his hand and a cigarette in his mouth.

Lori Lee’s instincts told her to run, that everything she’d heard about Rick Warrick was true. But her fascination with him, one she shared with almost every other teenage girl in town, overcame her better judgment and she approached him.

“You can’t smoke or drink at a Debutante party,” Lori Lee told him. “It’s against the rules.”

“Haven’t you heard? I don’t follow rules.” He tossed the cigarette down on the porch and ground it out with his boot heel.

She was drawn to him, like a flowering plant to the nourishing sun. When she moved close enough to touch him, he set his beer can on the banister rail, grinned devilishly and jerked her into his arms. Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened in surprise and arousal, and her whole body tingled with trembling excitement.

“You don’t want to play around with fire, honey. You’re liable to get burned.”

He kissed her then, his lips covering hers, his tongue forcing her mouth open. She clung to his shoulders, her nails biting into the leather of his jacket. His mouth was hot and wet as it devoured hers. He tasted of smoke and alcohol. When she felt his hand on her buttock, she froze, suddenly aware of what a guy like Rick Warrick would expect from a girl. She was no saint, but she was still a virgin, and she planned on staying one while she was in high school.

Releasing her, he gave her a gentle shove. She staggered backward. “Stay away from me, Lori Lee. I’m bad news for a girl like you.”

She’d run from him. Back into the safety of the party. Away from temptation.

Lori Lee opened her eyes, took a deep breath and walked out into the waiting area. Deanie Webber met her before she’d taken ten steps.

“He’s still a hunk, isn’t he? I mean a drop-dead gorgeous hunk!” Deanie squeezed Lori Lee’s arm. “This bunch of biddies in here have been trashing the poor guy, but the truth of the matter is there’s not a one who wouldn’t love to have him eat crackers in her bed, if you know what I mean.”

“Deanie, you’ll never change!” Lori Lee smiled at her best friend. “You’re as shameless as you were when we were kids.”

“He didn’t remember me, but I’ll bet he remembered you,” Deanie said. “I think he always had a thing for you.”

Ignoring Deanie’s last comment, Lori Lee approached her students and their mothers. “It’s too cold in here to get any real practicing done today. I’m afraid we’ll have to make it up Friday afternoon.”

All the children groaned. The mothers grumbled.

“I know it’ll be an inconvenience for all of us, but our next competition is a week from Saturday at Gadsden,” Lori Lee reminded them. “I have Twinkle Toes signed up in three categories. Dance-Twirl, Halftime Show Twirl Team and Halftime Show Dance Line.”

“You have entered Steffie in the solo events we discussed, haven’t you?” Mara Royce turned up her tiny pug nose and beamed her hundred-watt phony smile.

“I’ve entered Steffie in one solo event.” Lori Lee often wished that Mara hadn’t enrolled her only child in the Dixie Twirlers. The little girl was a spoiled brat, and in Steffie’s case, the apple certainly hadn’t fallen far from the tree. Mara Royce was a royal pain in the backside. But the woman possessed an enviable position in town. Her father was president of the largest bank in the county and her husband was a highly respected orthodontist.

“I really think Steffie is ready for—” Mara protested.

“Everything is set for the Gadsden competition,” Lori Lee said. “Mara, we can discuss this again before we go to Clanton in February.”

“We most certainly will discuss it.” Mara tilted her sharp chin and pursed her thin lips into a pout.

“Y’all might as well go on home and practice. Hopefully, we’ll have some heat by tomorrow.” Lori Lee glanced at the partially open door leading to the basement. Once everyone left, she’d be alone in the studio with Rick Warrick. The thought unnerved her and yet excited her.

“Oh, yes,” Lori Lee called out as the mothers and daughters bundled up. “Don’t forget to stop by next door and pick up your costumes. Aunt Birdie said that they arrived this morning and she’s already sorted them and has them ready.”

Deanie Webber escorted her six-year-old to the door. “Katie, you go on over and get your costumes. Visit with Miss Birdie a bit. Ask her to give you a cola while you’re waiting for me. I’m going to stay and talk to Lori Lee for a few minutes.”

Obeying her mother’s instructions, Katie rushed outside behind the other girls. Deanie closed the door, blocking out the cold January wind, then turned quickly and hurried back to Lori Lee’s side.

“Want me to stick around until he comes up from the basement?” Deanie asked, a coy little grin on her broad face.

“I think I’m perfectly safe with Mr. Warrick.” Lori Lee walked over to her desk, opened a bottom drawer and pulled out her beige leather purse.

“I wasn’t concerned about your safety. I was worried about whether or not you’d be able to keep your hands off him.” Deanie giggled, her cheeks flushed.

Lori Lee unzipped her purse, removed her checkbook and laid it on the desk. “Give it a rest, will you, Deanie? You and Aunt Birdie are the only two people on earth who know about that stupid crush I had on Rick when I was a teenager.”

“Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you’d given in to your basic urges and slept with him?” Deanie flopped down on the lounge area sofa.

“For heaven’s sake, I never even had a date with the guy. The only thing that ever happened between us was that one kiss.” Lori Lee sat down in the swivel chair behind her desk.

“Yeah, and you’ve never forgotten that kiss, have you? I’ll bet Tory McBain’s kisses never turned you on that much.”

“I do not want to discuss my ex-husband,” Lori Lee said. “And I certainly have no intention of comparing Tory to Rick.”

Deanie leaned back on the sofa, burrowing into the cushions until she found a comfortable position. “I’ve been keeping tabs on him ever since he moved back to town last July.”

“And what does Phil think about your taking so much interest in another man?”

Deanie laughed, the sound loud and robust. “My Phil knows he’s the only man on earth for me. I’ve been keeping an eye on Rick for you.”

“Well, you’ve wasted your time.” Lori Lee rummaged in her purse, dragging out a pair of beige leather gloves, a pale blue woolen scarf and a gold key chain dripping with an assortment of keys. “When you first told me about Rick being back in town, I made it perfectly clear that I have absolutely no interest in the man.”

“I realize you have more men after you than you can handle, but none of them seem to be getting past first base.” Deanie eyed the coffeemaker in the makeshift minikitchen separated from the rest of the downstairs studio by a pink folding screen. “Fix us some coffee and I’ll tell you everything you’re dying to know about our Mr. Warrick.”

“I do not want to discuss Rick, but I’ll fix some coffee. I could use a caffeine boost about now.” Lori Lee scooted back her chair, stood and went behind the screen. She filled the coffee machine with water and spooned a chocolate raspberry gourmet blend into the paper filter. “For your information, Powell Goodman and I are seeing quite a lot of each other, and I’ve dated Jimmy Davison several times since his divorce.”

“Two upstanding citizens if there ever were any.” Deanie slipped behind the screen, picked up a box of cookies and opened them. “Powell is the biggest stuffed shirt I know, and Jimmy is more in love with himself than he’ll ever be with a woman.”

“And what is Rick Warrick?” Lori Lee asked. “A sullen, brooding bad boy with no education. A blue-collar worker who lives in his sister’s garage apartment.”

“Well, well, well. You know a bit more about Rick than you’ve let on.”

“I overhear gossip from time to time.”

Deanie dug out a couple of Pecan Sandies from the cookie box. “I hate to tell you this, friend of mine, but you sounded a lot like a snob just then. Aunt Birdie would be appalled that you think you’re too good for Rick.”

“I don’t think I’m... It’s just that the last thing I need in my life right now is to get involved with a redneck tough guy. I run a business where I teach young girls. It’s important for me to have a good reputation.”

“From what I’ve heard, Rick is working real hard at overcoming his old reputation.” Deanie munched on the cookie. “Although rumor has it that he’s been seen at the Watering Hole a few times, and he’s never been alone.”

“I’m sure his taste in women hasn’t changed.” Reaching on the lower shelf, Lori Lee lifted the sweetener and creamer and placed them beside the coffee machine. “If I remember correctly, he always liked wild girls. The wilder the better.”

“Yeah.” Deanie sighed. “Wonder what his wife was like? Do you suppose she was a wild woman?”

“I can’t imagine Rick married to anyone. He was always too much of a free spirit.” Lori Lee poured two cups of coffee, adding sweetener and creamer to both, then handed Deanie a mug decorated with a bright, smiling sun.

“Well, you know his sister, Eve, goes to church with us, and she’s been bringing Rick’s little girl to every service with her.” Deanie sipped her coffee. “She’s a gorgeous child. Looks a lot like Rick, except she’s fair where he’s dark. His wife must have been a blue-eyed blonde.”

Rick shoved the basement door wide open. Deanie gasped. Lori Lee’s hands trembled.

“Did you find the problem?” Lori Lee asked. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He’d removed his coat, leaving his tight navy sweater to accent every hard line in his upper torso. His faded jeans clung to his hips and cupped him snugly. Lori Lee swallowed.

“Yeah, and it’s not good.” Rick placed his toolbox on the floor and dropped his coat on top of it. “I’m afraid your unit is a dinosaur. I could make some repairs to keep it going and charge you four or five hundred bucks, but I couldn’t guarantee it would last a month.”

“I was afraid of that.” Lori Lee grimaced, thinking about telling Aunt Birdie that Rick Warrick would be replacing the old heating and cooling system for the studio. Her aunt owned both the building that housed the Dixie Twirlers and Lori Lee’s Sparkle and Shine costume shop next door. And her aunt was one of the two people who knew she’d once had a major crush on Rick.

“I can work up an estimate tonight and drop it by sometime tomorrow,” Rick said.

“Look, I’ve got to run.” Deanie waved goodbye. “Y’all don’t need me. I’ll call you. later, Lori Lee. Bye now.” Deanie kept waving all the way to the front door, then she giggled like an idiot as she slammed the door shut.

“I wish I could remember her,” Rick said. “She seems real nice. Are you two friends?”

“Best friends since we were kids. I’m her daughter Katie’s godmother.”

“She was your best friend in school? The skinny little giggling redhead who was always with you?”

“Then you do remember her. She keeps an auburn rinse on her hair now and she’s put on a few pounds, but she’s still the same giggling girl. She married Phil Webber. He was senior class president the year I graduated.”

“She told me her daughter is one of your students.” Rick shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Are you taking any new students right now? I mean, I know it’s in the middle of the year and all.”

“I take new students all the time,” Lori Lee told him. “I have classes for ages three to fourteen, and I give private lessons to older girls and to students who excel, or those who need a little extra help.”

Rick glanced at the hot-pink mug she held in her hand. “Don’t let me keep you from drinking your coffee. It’ll get cold.”

“Oh.” She had forgotten all about the mug until he reminded her. “Would you care for some coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”

“It’d be too much trouble.”

“Don’t be silly. Sit down. I’ll get you some.”

Why had she invited him to stay? Why was she pouring him a cup of coffee? Had she lost her mind? A guy like this wouldn’t need much encouragement before he moved in and took over. She’d had sense enough at seventeen to steer clear of him. Why wasn’t she that smart now?

“How do you take your coffee, Mr. Warrick?”

“Black. And call me Rick.”

She handed him a mug, being careful not to touch him. “Please do sit down.”

When he sat on the sofa, she perched on the edge of the chair across from him. As they sipped their coffee, they stole quick glances at each other.

“How much do you charge for lessons?” he asked.

“I charge by the month. Two classes a week. The basic fee is thirty-five dollars, but that doesn’t include extras like costumes and—”

“I’d like to enroll my daughter.” He took several gulps of the hot black liquid, then placed his mug on the metal-and-glass coffee table in front of him. “She’s six, in the first grade at Southside. I’d like for her to make friends with the kind of little girls I saw here today.”

“Has she ever taken dance or baton lessons before?”

“Nope. But I bought her a baton for Christmas a couple of years ago and she plays with it all the time.”

“She would have to start out in the beginners’ class with our three-to-six-year-olds. When she begins to show progress, I’ll move her up into Twinkle Toes.”

“She’s sort of shy, and I’m afraid she’ll turn out to be a loner like her old man. I don’t want that,” Rick said. “I’d like for her to fit in and be accepted.”

The way I never was. He didn’t say the words, but Lori Lee knew what he meant. She hadn’t known much about Rick, except that he’d been shuffled from one foster home to another, and that his younger sister, Eve, had been adopted by a good family who hadn’t wanted Rick. No one had wanted the hellion he’d been back then.

“What’s your daughter’s name?”

“Darcie.”

“Well, bring Darcie by the studio tomorrow afternoon so she can meet the other girls in the beginners’ class, and we’ll show her what twirling is all about.”

“I don’t know if I can take time off from work tomorrow, but I’ll see what I can manage. If I can’t bring her, I’ll get my sister to.”

“You’re going to drop by with the estimate for the new heat and air system by tomorrow, aren’t you?” Lori Lee asked.

“Yeah.”

“Bring the estimate by at the same time you bring Darcie, that way you won’t be taking time away from your job,” Lori Lee suggested. “Since my Aunt Birdie owns the building, I’ll have her come over and talk to you while I show Darcie around the studio and introduce her to the other girls.”

“Yeah. Sure. Thanks.” Rick stood, walked over and picked up his coat. He slipped into it and lifted his toolbox. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yes, see you tomorrow. You and Darcie.”

She followed him, pausing when he opened the front door and turned to face her. “Look, Lori Lee, I know when I left this town, people were glad to see me go. I’d earned myself a pretty bad reputation.”

“That was a long time ago.” She could smell his sweat, not an offensive odor, just a rough, masculine scent that blended with the clean smell of his clothes and hair.

“I haven’t been a saint these past fifteen years, but I’m doing my best to settle down and provide a home for my daughter.” He stared into Lori Lee’s big blue eyes and felt himself drowning. If he’d known she had moved back to Tuscumbia, would he have come home? “Darcie is my main concern. Everything I do, I do for her.”

“I understand,” Lori Lee said.

He nodded, then turned and walked out the door and down the sidewalk to his parked minivan, Bobo Lewis Heating And Air-Conditioning printed on the side in bold black lettering. She stood in the doorway and watched him until he drove down Main Street and the van disappeared around the corner on Fifth.

She’d told him she understood his devotion to his child, and she did. If she had a little girl, she would make her daughter the center of her universe. But she could never have the one thing she wanted most—a child of her own. Regret knotted her stomach. Sorrow clogged her throat with unshed tears.

Lori Lee went back inside the studio, sat on the edge of her desk and flipped through her Rolodex, then made her first telephone call to cancel her private lessons for the day.

Lori Lee chopped up the pack of lunch meat into tiny pieces and dumped it into Tyke’s doggie bowl. The brindled Boston terrier jumped up and down, gazing at Lori Lee with huge brown eyes.

She set the bowl on the floor and petted Tyke on the head. “Here you go, baby. Eat up while I fix my supper.”

While Tyke gobbled up his meal, Lori Lee removed a single-serving casserole from the refrigerator and popped it into the microwave. As she waited for her dinner to warm, she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the round table that was dressed in lace and floral fabric matching the kitchen wallpaper.

Leaning back in the cane-bottom oak chair, she sighed. It had been a long day. She was tired, hungry and unnerved. She’d decided to wait until morning to tell Aunt Birdie the bad news about the central heat and air at the studio. She wasn’t overly concerned about the expense for her aunt, who probably had enough money to buy and sell the whole town. Birdie’s fifth husband had left her millions, and she’d been far from poor before Hubert Pierpont’s death. No, what Lori Lee dreaded was telling her aunt that Rick Warrick would be installing the new heating equipment and that he planned to enroll his daughter in the twirlers.

Birdie Guy Jackson Lovvorn Hill McWilliams Pierpont was a woman who loved men and simply couldn’t understand how her favorite niece had gone nearly six years without a significant other. As far as Aunt Birdie was concerned, dating didn’t count. A woman needed to be in love, and if she were in love, she should either be living with the object of her affection or married to him. Lori Lee fell short on all counts.

Aunt Birdie had been Lori Lee’s confidante as long as she could remember. She’d told her aunt things she’d never even told Deanie. And since her parents had moved to Naples, Florida, three years ago, after her younger brother Ronnie’s death, Lori Lee had become even closer to Birdie. Maybe it was her aunt’s big, warm heart or her zest for life that had always assured Lori Lee that Birdie would not only understand but sympathize.

If she had listened to her crazy Aunt Birdie’s advice when she was seventeen, Lori Lee would have acted on her feelings for Rick Warrick and ridden off with him on his motorcycle in the middle of the night. But Rick had frightened her, and she’d kept her distance, seldom even speaking to him. But in her dreams, awake or asleep, she had fantasized about being his woman.

She wasn’t a teenage girl anymore. She was an adult who had just turned thirty-two on her last birthday. She was old enough to know better than to allow her hormones to dictate her actions. And her hormones had certainly gone into overdrive this afternoon when Rick Warrick reentered her world

It wasn’t as if there weren’t men in her life. Actually there were more men chasing her than she knew what to do with, but not one of them made her stomach do flipflops or her blood sizzle with excitement. Ever since her divorce from Tory had become final and she’d moved back to Tuscumbia, there had been a steady stream of eligible, and a few not so eligible, men beating a path to her door. Several of those men had offered her marriage, but she had declined.

She’d been madly in love with Tory McBain, the big, handsome star quarterback for the University of Alabama, whom she’d married at twenty-two and divorced four years later. Their marriage had ended badly, leaving both her heart and spirit broken. But Lori Lee knew one thing for certain, she would never marry again until she could love someone else with that same kind of wondrous passion.

She supposed what upset her the most about being exposed to Rick’s rough and rugged brand of male sensuality was that she was still as scared of him as she’d ever been. The effect he had on her frightened her because it was stronger than anything she’d ever felt. Not even her love for Tory had been as powerful.

But she didn’t love Rick. How could she? She barely knew him. No, she didn’t love the man. She just wanted him—wanted him in a desperate, almost savage way she had never wanted anyone else.

Two

Rick set two bowls of vegetable soup beside the plastic spoons and paper napkins on the card table. He wasn’t much of a cook, but he made sure Darcie got three decent meals a day. A couple of times a week, they ate supper at his sister’s, but he tried not to impose on Eve more than he had to. She already did too much for them, and Rick accepted her help only for Darcie’s sake. In the two years since his ex-wife’s death, he had discovered just how difficult it was for a single man to raise a child alone. Especially a tiny, shy, insecure little girl who was just now beginning to trust him enough to believe he wouldn’t leave her.

When April had been killed in a car crash, along with her drunken boyfriend, Rick had had no choice but to take Darcie on the road with him. He’d been a construction worker most of his adult life, ever since he’d done his stint in the army. Seven years ago, he had wound up in Mercy Falls, South Dakota, where he’d met a barfly named April Denton. April had been a looker. Big blue eyes. Long blond hair. And a body to die for. The first time he saw her, he’d thought of Lori Lee Guy. There’d been a striking resemblance between the two, but where Lori Lee was a class act—a Southern belle with a pedigree as long as his arm—April had been cheap and flashy. They’d burned themselves out after a few weeks of passion, and Rick had moved on to another town and another woman. Then April had called him and told him she was pregnant. He hadn’t wanted to marry her, but in the end he had. He’d done it for the child, even though he hadn’t been sure, at the time, the baby was really his. No kid deserved to come into this world unloved and unwanted, as he’d been.

“Daddy, are the grilled cheese sandwiches ready?” Darcie asked.

“Huh?” Rick’s mind jumped from the past to the present. He picked up the metal spatula and flipped the sandwiches in the electric skillet. “Any minute now, sweetie. Go ahead and start on your soup if you’re hungry.”

“Shouldn’t I say grace first? They always say it at Aunt Eve’s before they eat.”

“Sure. Say grace.” Rick bowed his head.

“God is great, God is good. Now let us thank him for our food. Amen.” Darcie looked up at her father and smiled.

Her two front teeth were missing. He hadn’t known a damn thing about the tooth fairy until Eve had explained all about the mysterious spirit who gathered up teeth from beneath children’s pillows and left money in their place. Darcie’s two front teeth had cost Rick four bucks—two dollars a tooth. Eve had told him that front teeth were more expensive, and in the future a dollar a tooth would suffice.

Rick lifted a sandwich and placed it on a paper plate beside Darcie’s soup bowl, then repeated the procedure with his sandwich. He pulled out a folding chair and sat down across from his daughter.

“Am I going to have to stay over at Aunt Eve’s tonight?” Darcie slurped her soup, then took a bite out of her sandwich.

“I’m afraid so. I’ve got to work, and you’re just not old enough to stay out here in the apartment by yourself.”

Rick hated leaving Darcie alone several nights a week, but he had no choice. If he wanted to earn enough money to buy Bobo’s half of the business before the old man retired, he had to work a second job, if only part-time. His and Darcie’s future depended on him, on his making a place for them in the community and earning enough money to give Darcie the kind of life he’d never had.

He wanted his daughter to have every opportunity, and it was up to him to make sure she got the chances she deserved. If only the right people would accept her, allow her to become friends with their children and invite her into their inner circle, Rick would pay any price. But with his former reputation and past history hanging around his neck like an albatross, finding acceptance for himself and his daughter in Tuscumbia might prove an impossible task. But he sure as hell was trying. If they’d just give him a chance, he’d show the good citizens how much he had changed, how determined he was to be a good person, too. He’d do just about anything for Darcie’s sake.

“What kind of car is it you’re fixing for that man?” Darcie asked.

“It’s a 1959 Corvette,” Rick said. “And the man I’m restoring the car for is Powell Goodman. He’s a lawyer and a pretty important guy around these parts. His father and grandfather were both judges.”

“Aren’t you an important man, Daddy?”

Important? Him? To most people he was about as important as yesterday’s trash. “I’m just an ordinary guy, sweetie. A man trying to make ends meet and give his kid a better life than he had.”

Darcie scooted out of her chair, walked around the table and, standing on tiptoe, flung her arms around her father’s neck. “You’re an important man to me, Daddy. Very, very important.”

If Rick had been an emotional man, he might have teared up at his child’s sweet, loving proclamation. But Rick hadn’t shed a tear since he’d been younger than Darcie was now. He’d learned early on that nobody gave a tinker’s damn whether he was upset, lonely or hurt. Poor little A.K. Had his own parents ever loved him? Sometimes he wondered if his mother had given him only initials for a first name because it had been quick and easy, no bother for her. But by the time he was in junior high, all his buddies called him Rick, taken from Warrick. And to this day, he preferred the nickname over the solitary initials on his birth certificate.

Rick hugged his daughter, kissed her on her forehead and nuzzled her nose with his. She giggled gleefully. “Thanks, big girl. I think you’re a pretty important person, too.”

“Snooky-nose me again, Daddy.” Darcie pressed her tiny button nose against her father’s long, lean, hawkish nose.

She loved to play what Rick had dubbed “snooky-nose,” where they rubbed their noses together. He repeated the nuzzling, then lifted her and set her down in her chair. “Eat your supper, young lady. I’ve got fifteen minutes to eat, clean up our mess and get you over to Aunt Eve’s.”

“When you own all of Mr. Bobo’s business, then will you be able to stay home with me every night?” Darcie lifted her grilled cheese sandwich.

“You bet.” Rick devoured his soup and sandwich, occasionally glancing at his daughter who nibbled at her food.

He supposed he should see April every time he looked at Darcie. She had the same blond hair and blue eyes, but since she’d been a toddler, every time he looked at his daughter he saw himself—and Lori Lee. Darcie had his facial structure, his wide mouth with a thick bottom lip and his prominent chin, but she was all blond, blue-eyed loveliness like Lori Lee. Once he’d realized Darcie really was his child, he had fantasized that Lori Lee was her mother instead of April.

More than anything, he wanted his daughter to become the kind of woman Lori Lee Guy was.

“While I clean up here, you get your pajamas and your school clothes for tomorrow ready to take over to Aunt Eve’s.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

He knew he had to bring up the subject of enrolling her in the Dixie Twirlers, but he wasn’t quite sure how she’d react. Darcie was shy and had had a difficult time making friends at school.

“Hey, Darcie, how would you like to take baton lessons from a very nice lady?” Rick dumped their disposable utensils, bowls, plates and cups into the garbage sack.

“Do you mean Miss Lori Lee’s twirlers, Daddy?” Darcie clutched her footed pajamas to her chest. “The Dixie Twirlers?”

“You’ve already heard about them, I see.”

“Oh, yes, Daddy. Steffie Royce and Katie Webber are in Twinkle Toes. They get to go to contests and march in parades and—”

“Do I take this enthusiasm to mean you’d like to enroll in classes?” Rick scoured the soup pot with steel wool, then rinsed the container and turned it upside down on the drainboard.

“Can I really? You aren’t kidding me, are you?”

“Tomorrow, after school, Aunt Eve can bring you by the shop, and when I take over an estimate to Miss Lori Lee on a new heating and cooling system, you can go with me. I told her about you today. She wants you to meet the other girls in her beginners’ class and see if you want to join them.”

“I want to join them. I want to join them!” Darcie jumped up and down, then flew across the room and into her father’s arms. “You’re the best daddy in the whole wide world!”

Dear God, what had he ever done to deserve this precious child? He knew he was far from the best father in the world, but if love and devotion counted for anything, then maybe he had a chance of someday earning that title.

“Well, well,” Birdie Pierpont mused, dramatically rolling her big green eyes heavenward. “Life never ceases to amaze me. Just when I’d given up hope of you ever awakening from your hundred-year celibate sleep, along comes Prince Charming to awaken you with a sweet kiss.”

“Rick Warrick is no Prince Charming,” Lori Lee said. “And he’s certainly not going to awaken me with a kiss.”

“No, you’re quite right, sugar. Rick is more a beast than a prince, and I imagine his kisses are more passionate than sweet.”

“Argh!” Lori Lee stormed out from behind the checkout counter in her costume shop and straightened a perfectly straight row of leotards folded neatly on a table. “This is the very reason I didn’t want to even mention Rick’s name to you. I knew you’d start cooking up some scheme in that evil brain of yours.”

“Thank you, sugar, for the compliment. So seldom does anyone appreciate a truly evil brain these days.” Birdie, all two hundred pounds, five feet four inches of her, rounded the corner of the counter and followed her niece.

“I wish I’d never told you about my crush on Rick when I was a teenager. Mother would have been shocked senseless if I’d ever told her that you advised me to go riding off on his motorcycle with him.”

“Look, my dear Miss Prim and Proper.” Birdie planted her pudgy hands on her wide hips. “You’ve been as fidgety as a worm in hot ashes ever since you learned that A. K. Warrick was back in Tuscumbia.” When Lori Lee opened her mouth to protest, her aunt held up a restraining hand. “No, no. Don’t you dare deny it. Since your divorce, you’ve led all the men around here on a merry chase, but not once have I seen you foaming at the mouth. Not until now.”

“Birdie Lou Pierpont, you have the most vulgar way of expressing yourself.” Lori Lee leaned over into the front window, got on her knees and began fiddling with the display. “I am not foaming at the mouth.”

“I’ve been accused of worse things than vulgarity.” Birdie fluffed her curly white-blond hair. “It wouldn’t hurt you to come down off that pedestal the men in town have placed you on and get a little vulgar yourself. I’ll bet Rick could teach you how to get down and dirty.”

Lori Lee crawled out of the display window, turned sharply and glared at her aunt. “Will you please stop this? Rick is going to be here any minute to bring us the estimate for the new heat and air system, and he’s bringing his daughter with him. I want you to promise me that you’ll be on your best behavior.”

Puckering her mouth into a sulk, Birdie crossed her fat arms over her ample bosom and let out a loud huff.

Lori Lee loved her Aunt Birdie dearly, but more often than not the woman tried her patience. She’d never been able to understand how her straitlaced, churchgoing, engineer father could possibly have an older sister as wild, zany and totally unorthodox as Birdie.

“I’ve seen him and his little girl, you know.” Birdie inspected her clawlike red fingemails.

“Where?”

“Around.”

“You never mentioned it to me.”

“I knew you’d been trying to avoid him,” Birdie said. “But I also knew that in a town this size, your paths were bound to cross sooner or later.”

“I have not been avoiding him! There is nothing going on between Rick and me. There never has been. There never will be. He’s going to oversee the installation of the new heat and air system, and I’ll see him when he drops his daughter by for classes and picks her up. That’s the beginning and end of my association with Mr. A. K. Warrick.”

“Fine. Far be it from me to interfere in your dull, lonely life.”

“My life is neither dull nor lonely, thank you very much.”

“Oh, don’t thank me, my dear.” Birdie smiled, cracking her full face into dozens of tiny, thin wrinkles. “You must thank men like Powell Goodman and Jimmy Davison for filling your life with so much passion and excitement.”

“I’m not looking for passion and excitement!”

“Pity.” Birdie tsk-tsked and shook her head sadly. “Rick would be just the man to give you both, but since you’re not interested... Of course, he does have one thing you might want.”

“There’s nothing he has that I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Lori Lee said adamantly.

“Not even his child?”

“Are you implying that... For your information, several of the men I date have children, if I wanted a man for that reason.”

“Yes, but all of the ones with children also have exwives,” Birdie reminded her. “I understand Rick’s wife is dead.”

“I’m going to say this one more time, and then we’re not ever going to have this discussion again. Rick is not my type. He wasn’t fifteen years ago, and he’s not now. We have nothing in common.”

The front door opened and the UPS carrier delivered a large box. Lori Lee signed for the package, exchanged pleasantries with the deliveryman and lifted the box to the top of the checkout counter.

Just as she found a knife and positioned it to rip apart the box, the door opened again. She glanced up and her heartbeat accelerated. Rick walked in holding the hand of the little, blond angel at his side. Lori Lee glanced back and forth from Rick to his child. Tears misted her eyes. She looked down, concentrating on opening the box, trying desperately to hide her reaction.

Rick’s little girl could be her little girl. The little girl Lori Lee had carried in her body for five months. The little girl who’d been unable to live outside her mother’s body.

“Well, Rick, how are you?” Birdie padded across the floor in her sock feet, leaned down and held out her hand. “Hello there, cutie. You must be Darcie Warrick.”

“How’d you know my name?” the child asked, gazing up at Birdie, a tenuous smile quivering on her lips.

“Aunt Birdie knows all sorts of things about people,’ Birdie said. ”Especially people who interest me. And you, Darcie, interest me a great deal.”

“I do?”

“Yes, you do.”

“Why?”

“Well, you come with me and I’ll get you a cola and show you all the wondrous things in our little Sparkle and Shine shop here, then I’ll tell you why you interest me so ’ Birdie offered Darcie her hand. The child accepted, then looked to her father for approval.

“It’s fine, sweetie. You go with Miss Birdie,” Rick said.

“And you—” Birdie pointed to Rick “—take my niece over to the studio and discuss business. When you two come to a decision, I’ll sign whatever papers are necessary and write out a check.”

When Rick and Lori Lee didn’t respond, just glanced awkwardly at each other, Birdie shooed them with a wave of her hand. “Go on, now. Darcie and I will be over to the studio by the time the beginners’ class starts.”

“We can discuss things here, if you prefer,” Rick told Lori Lee, sensing her reluctance to go to the studio alone with him.

“No, we’ll leave and pacify Aunt Birdie. She loves to fill children’s heads with all kinds of nonsensical stories while she gives them a grand tour. And kids usually love looking at all our costumes and supplies.”

“I’ll bet y’all do a booming business around Halloween.” Rick surveyed the shop, noticing the wide variety of items, everything from ballet slippers and majorette boots to magic wands and drum major batons.

“We do a good business year-round,” Lori Lee told him. “We supply all our twirlers, the Deshler band and majorettes and several of the dance studios, as well as a little theater group.”

“Sounds like you’re doing all right.” Rick wondered just how much Lori Lee depended on her two jobs for an income. She’d been born into an upper middle class family, and he’d heard that not only had she inherited money from her maternal grandparents, but that her aunt was filthy rich.

“I make a good living,” Lori Lee said. “Come on. While you explain what I need to know about your installing the new heat and air system, I’ll show you around my studio and give you an idea of what all is involved in your daughter—in Darcie—taking lessons.”

Rick followed Lori Lee out of the Sparkle and Shine shop to the studio in the adjacent building. He watched the way she walked, a seductive hip-swaying come-on that she wasn’t even aware of. He’d known a lot of women in his thirty-three years, but he’d never known anyone as beautiful as Lori Lee Guy. How the hell had a woman like her remained single so long after her divorce? Had her ex-husband done such a number on her that he had scared her off marriage forever?

“Come on in,” she said, unlocking the door.

The moment he stepped inside, Rick felt the warmth. Puzzled at first, he surveyed the studio and discovered that she’d strategically placed small electric heaters around the room.

“I’m going to hold classes down here until the new heating system is put it,” she said. “I’ve closed off the upstairs temporarily. I simply can’t postpone any more classes. We’re going to Gadsden next weekend for a competition.”

Rick reached inside his jacket and pulled out the estimate. He’d worked it up around midnight last night, after he returned from the garage he rented on a monthly basis so he’d have a place to restore Powell Goodman’s ’Vette.

“Here’s the estimate. The price covers everything.” He handed her the papers. “Look it over and let me know if you have any questions.”

. “Let’s sit down.” She nodded toward the lounge area. “Would you like some coffee? I can put some on.”

“Don’t go to any trouble for me.”

“No, no trouble. I usually have a pot waiting for the mothers who like to stay and chat while their daughters are in class.”

She glanced over the estimate quickly, noting every detail and deciding immediately that the cost seemed reasonable.

“I noticed that several of Tuscumbia’s best families have their daughters in your classes.” Rick stuffed his hands in his pockets, then lifted his heels off the floor repeatedly as he craned his neck backward and glanced around the studio. “I want Darcie to be accepted.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t want who I am or who I was to... Well, you know what I’m trying to say. I never fit in. I was always an outsider. I don’t want that for my little girl.”

The way he said my little girl hit a sympathetic cord inside Lori Lee. No matter what his sins were—past and present—it was obvious that Rick loved his daughter.

“I can’t promise you that having Darcie enrolled here at Dixie Twirlers will ensure her popularity, but...well, I’ll certainly do what I can to see that she fits in and feels a part of everything we do.” Lori Lee tossed the estimate on the sofa, then busied herself preparing the coffee machine.

“She’s all excited about taking lessons,” Rick said. “She’s a little shy and I was afraid she might feel uncomfortable around a group of kids she doesn’t know, but she’s been jumping for joy ever since I mentioned it to her.”

“I’ll start her out in the beginners’ class,” Lori Lee explained. “She’ll need two batons. One for class and one for competition. We sell them next door at Sparkle and Shine.”

Rick grinned, his sexy, captivating smile that turned Lori Lee’s stomach inside out. Why couldn’t Powell’s smile do that to her? Or Jimmy’s? Why was it that no one had ever affected her the way Rick did?

“You tell me what she needs and I’ll be sure she has it.” Rick couldn’t afford the lessons, let alone anything extra. Every dime he made, that he didn’t spend on Darcie, went into savings. That’s why he didn’t have any decent clothes, still wore a fifteen-year-old leather jacket and worn-out boots and went months between haircuts.

“I think Darcie’s a lucky little girl to have a father like you.” Lori Lee kept her back to Rick as she removed two mugs from the wall rack. “And the strange thing about it is that I never pictured you as a father. You were always too wild and free.”

“Darcie wasn’t planned,” Rick admitted. “She was an accident. I got April pregnant, so I married her for the kid’s sake. We stayed married less than a year.” Rick slumped down in a cushioned Windsor chair to the left of the sofa. “Believe me, Lori Lee, my daughter isn’t so lucky. April was a lousy mother and I was an absentee father who saw Darcie about once a month. I sent support checks, but April blew them on liquor and good times for herself.”

“You don’t have to tell me any of this. It’s none of my business.” Lori Lee wasn’t sure she wanted to share confidences with Rick. Doing so made their relationship more personal, and that was the last thing she wanted.

“If you’re going to help Darcie, you need to know that until we moved to Tuscumbia last summer she hadn’t had much of a life.”

“What happened to your wife? Your ex-wife?” Lori Lee poured coffee into two mugs, seasoned hers to taste and lifted the mugs off the table.

“April was killed in a car wreck two years ago.” Rick accepted the coffee when Lori Lee offered it to him. Her hand grazed his. He looked up into her startled blue eyes and realized that on some level she was afraid of him.

He set his mug down on the coffee table, and when Lori Lee sat down across from him, he reached out to touch her reassuringly. Grasping her mug with both hands, she scooted back on the sofa.

. “I decided to bring Darcie home to Tuscumbia because I knew it would be the only way she’d ever have a normal life.” Rick lifted the mug off the table and to his lips. He took several sips. “I used my life savings to buy half-ownership in Bobo Lewis’s business, and I’m hoping to buy him out when he retires. I’m trying to be an upstanding citizen, for Darcie’s sake. And one of these days, I’d like to find a nice woman, get married and give Darcie a real mother and a bunch of brothers and sisters.”

I don’t care, Lori Lee wanted to scream. I do not care! Why should it matter to me that Rick Warrick wants a houseful of kids? He doesn’t mean a thing to me. His dreams aren’t important to me.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. “You’re awfully quiet, and you’ve got a strange look on your face.”

“No, nothing’s wrong. I’m fine,” she lied. “I think you have some very worthwhile plans and I wish you the very best luck in...well, in buying out Bobo and in finding Darcie a new mother.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Rick said. “My sister Eve’s been setting up some dates for me, but nothing’s panned out yet. And I got a few dates on my own, but unfortunately they weren’t good mother material, if you know what I mean?”

Rick chuckled like a naughty little boy, and something inside Lori Lee wanted to slap his face. He was such a chauvinist, but then, he always had been. She supposed one of his many fascinations for the female sex was his blatant, unrepentant macho attitude. Why was it that women were intrigued by bad boys? Even she harbored a secret fantasy that she was the only woman on earth capable of taming Rick Warrick, of turning her own bad boy into a model husband and father.

But Rick wanted more children.

Lori Lee tried to smile, but the effort failed miserably. Instead she sipped her coffee, picked up the estimate folder and pretended to thoroughly inspect every page.

Rick knew he’d put his foot in his mouth when he’d mentioned “those kind of women.” He supposed he’d always considered bad girls the only kind of girls a bad boy like him deserved. He had to admit that bad girls were a lot more fun if all a guy wanted was a good time.

He’d tried to work up some enthusiasm over the women Eve found for him to date, but not even a hungry good-night kiss had gotten his motor running. Maybe nice girls just didn’t turn him on.

No, that wasn’t exactly true. There was one nice girl who’d always given him a hard-on just looking at her, and she still did. Rick squirmed uncomfortably in the chair. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He was sitting there, getting harder every minute, in a studio that would soon be filled with a bunch of tiny tots, one of which was his own daughter.

He had to get his mind off his favorite fantasy—making love to Lori Lee. He knew he wasn’t good enough for her, that she’d never even date him let alone consider marrying him. But since his return to Tuscumbia, he had found himself daydreaming about making love to Lori Lee, then making her his wife and the mother of his child.

If he shared that particular fantasy with her, she’d probably laugh in his face and ask him just who he thought he was. What would she want with a guy like him when she could have her pick of successful, respectable men? Men like Jimmy Davison and Powell Goodman. How could he ever compete with men who could offer her everything?

The silence between them stretched into hour-long minutes. Lori Lee glanced at the wall clock. Any second now her students for the five-thirty class would come barreling through the front door.

“I, uh, I have to get ready for my class.” She stood, then handed him the estimate. “Everything looks fine to me. Show this to Aunt Birdie and she’ll write you a check. When can you start on the job?”

“We’re booked up until next Monday.” Standing, he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and dragged the jacket down over the front of his jeans. “I’ll get my crew out here first thing Monday morning. About eight o’clock, if somebody can be here to let us in.”

“That’ll be fine. I’ll meet you here.” This was Thursday. She wouldn’t see him again until Monday. That gave her the entire weekend to get her hormones under control so she didn’t make a fool of herself around Rick. She had to keep reminding herself that he’d been bad news fifteen years ago, and he still was.

Darcie came flying threw the open door, Birdie waddling feistily behind her.

Jumping up and down beside her father, Darcie held up a shiny new baton. “Look what Aunt Birdie gave me. It’s my very own superstar baton.”

Willing his body to relax, Rick grinned and nodded his head. “Yeah, that’s some great-looking baton.” He glanced over at Birdie. “I’ll pay you for it, of course.”

“Nonsense,” Birdie said. “This was a gift for my new little friend. You can buy her the classic baton for competition.”

“Thanks, Miss Birdie.” Rick wondered if Birdie Pierpont had any idea how hard-pressed for cash he was and had taken pity on him. He hoped not. The one thing he hated most was pity.

“The other girls will be here shortly, Darcie,” Lori Lee said. “Would you like for me to give you your first lesson before they get here?”

“Oh, yes, Miss Lori Lee.” Gripping her baton tightly, Darcie stood at attention in front of her teacher. “What do I do first?”

“Come with me.” Lori Lee placed her hand on the child’s shoulder and led her to the center of the room. “Tell me, Darcie, do you know how to dip ice cream?”

“What?”

“Can you dip ice cream?” Lori Lee repeated. “You know, with an ice cream scoop.”

“Yes, I know how to do that. Why?”

“Because that’s what I want you to do with your baton.”

Darcie looked at Lori Lee, puzzlement in her stare. “You want me to dip ice cream with my baton?”

Lori Lee reached over and removed one of her batons from the wall rack where she displayed them. Gripping the wand in the middle, she delved it downward to the left, then lifted it and delved downward to the right.

“See what I did? I’m pretending my baton is a double ice cream scoop. On this side—” she dipped to the left “—is chocolate ice cream, and on this side—” she dipped to the right “—is vanilla ice cream.”

Darcie smiled and nodded her head. “I get it.” Watching again while Lori Lee demonstrated, Darcie scooped to the left, then to the right. “Look, Daddy, I’m scooping ice cream with my baton.”

“And doing a great job, sweetie.” His eyes met Lori Lee’s and for just an instant they shared the joy of Darcie’s triumphant happiness. “She catches on quick, doesn’t she, Miss Lori Lee?” Rick asked.

“She’s a natural. She’ll be moving up to Twinkle Toes in no time.” Lori Lee focused all her attention on Darcie. “Now, let me show you another exercise.”

Rick watched his daughter for several more minutes, then turned to Birdie and held out the estimate. “Lori Lee has okayed this, and I told her we can start work Monday morning. I won’t need any payment until the job’s done. It shouldn’t take more than one day, two at the most.”

Birdie waved the estimate away. “I don’t need to see the thing. Just put in whatever this old building needs to make it warm in the winter and cool in the summer.”

“I think we can manage that.”

“How much extra would you charge to make the job last an extra day or two?” Birdie cocked her head to one side, avoiding eye contact with Rick.

“Why would you want the project to—”

“To give you and Lori Lee a little more time together,” Birdie freely admitted. “It doesn’t look like y’all can think up any excuses on your own for seeing each other, so I thought I’d help out. After all, you’ve been in town five months and neither you nor Lori Lee had made a move to contact each other.”

“Miss Birdie, what are you saying? I can assure you that there’s nothing going on between your niece and me.”

“Yes, I’m well aware that there isn’t. I just want to know why not.” Easing up beside Rick, Birdie slipped her fleshy arm around his waist. “You’re single. Lori Lee’s single. And it’s obvious to me that y’all have got the hots for each other.”

“You’re a plainspoken woman, aren’t you, Miss Birdie.”

“Call me Aunt Birdie.” She hugged him around the waist.

“Well, Aunt Birdie, tell me why you’d want your niece involved with a man like me? You know my reputation. I’m a bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks. I barely got out of high school and I’ve worked construction most of my life. What do I have to offer a woman like Lori Lee?”

“She’s been afraid to fall in love again since her divorce,” Birdie told him. “She’s bombarded by the attention of all these lackluster Romeos. What she needs is a real man for a change. Somebody who’ll stir her blood.” Birdie jabbed him in the center of his chest with her index finger. “That’s you. A woman would have to be dead for you not to stir her blood.”

Rick grinned. Damn, but he liked Lori Lee’s Aunt Birdie. She was his kind of woman. “Even if Lori Lee was interested in me, which she’s not, what makes you think I’d be interested in her?”

The front door burst open and three little girls came rushing in, one breathless mother following them. Lori Lee gathered them together and introduced them to Darcie.

“Your daughter is a lovely child,” Aunt Birdie told Rick.

“Yes, she is, but my daughter’s looks have nothing to do with the question I asked you.”

“I think maybe it does.” Birdie told him, then smiled at the harried young mother who approached them. “Hello, Mindy. How are you today?”

“Running around in circles as usual,” Mindy said. “Who’s this? A new twirler father?”

“Forgive my lack of manners.” Birdie patted Rick on the arm. “Mindy, this is Rick Warrick, Darcie’s father.” Birdie nodded toward the newcomer. “Rick, this is Mindy Jenkins. She’s the mother of the little brunette over there, and aunt to the redheaded twins.”

“Well, welcome to the twirling world,” Mindy said. “Just be prepared for your little girl to sleep, eat and bathe with her baton for the next few months.”

“Don’t you think Rick’s daughter is a living doll?” Birdie asked. “I was just about to tell Rick how much she reminds me of Lori Lee at that age. Do you see the resemblance, Mindy?”

Mindy stared at Darcie, then at Lori Lee. She smacked her lips. “Glory be, you’re right. I swear, they look enough alike to be mother and daughter.”

“Your wife must have been a very pretty blonde,” Birdie said. “I imagine she looked a lot like Lori Lee.”

Damn smart old woman, Rick thought. Was she psychic or something? Without actually accusing him of choosing a woman who had reminded him of Lori Lee, Birdie let Rick know she’d figured out just why he’d been attracted to his former wife.

“Yeah, she looked a bit like Lori Lee, but that’s where any similarity between the two ended.”

Rick had to admit that he had a weakness for blondes, especially blue-eyed blondes with pouty lips and hourglass figures. He supposed he’d looked for Lori Lee in every woman he’d been with since he’d left Tuscumbia fifteen years ago. He’d been with plenty of cheap imitations, Darcie’s mother being the closest thing he’d found to his fantasy woman. At least in the looks department. It hadn’t taken Rick long to discover April Denton was no lady. But then, it hadn’t mattered. He sure as hell had never been a gentleman.

Since the day he realized Darcie was really his, he’d thought back to when she’d been conceived, wondering why he’d been fool enough to have sex with a woman without using protection. He wasn’t usually that careless.

He could recall only one night that it could have happened. The first night he’d had sex with April. The night he’d taken April Denton to bed and made love to Lori Lee Guy.

Three

It was a slow day at the Sparkle and Shine shop, slower than usual for a Monday in January. A cold drizzle had set in a little after eleven, and Lori Lee could tell by the clinking taps on the awnings that the rain was mixed with sleet. She hoped the weather didn’t worsen and force her to cancel the afternoon and evening classes. All the competition groups needed this last week of practice before they performed in Gadsden on Saturday.

“Where are those tights with the pink and red hearts on them?” Aunt Birdie called from the storage room. “I wanted to plan our Valentine display for the window. I’ve got to find something to keep me busy. It doesn’t look like we’re going to have any customers.”

“Mondays are always slow,” Lori Lee said. “Besides, the weather’s getting nasty. And we sold out of those tights last year. I have some ordered and expect them in any day now.”

“Well, I can’t find anything else to get into back here.” Emerging from the storage room, Birdie pulled a pack of cards out of her yellow smock pocket. “We could play a few games to pass the time.”

“You don’t want to play cards,” Lori Lee said. “You want to talk, to ask me a dozen questions about my date Saturday night.”

“I couldn’t care less about your Saturday night with Powell.” Birdie slipped the cards back in her pocket. “Even if you slept with him, I’d probably find the retelling as boring as you found the actual event.”

Lori Lee tried not to laugh, but several muffled giggles escaped. “I didn’t sleep with Powell.”

“I didn’t think you did.”

“We went to a play at the Ritz and had a late dinner at the Renaissance Tower.”

“That’s nice, dear.” Birdie walked over to the front door and looked outside. “It’s just a coming down, isn’t it? Good thing Rick and his crew are working inside.”

“I wondered how long it would take you to get around to talking about Rick.” Lori Lee walked over and placed her arm around her aunt’s shoulders. “I saw him this morning at the studio for all of about five minutes when I unlocked the door and let him and his crew in.”

“I think I’ll run next door and invite them to eat lunch with us. Lord knows I brought enough food for half a dozen people.” Birdie headed for the storage room. “I’ll need my coat and umbrella.”

“If you’re going to invite them all for lunch, just use the telephone,” Lori Lee suggested as she strolled around the shop, flicking imaginary specks of dust off the countertops. “And if Rick accepts, I hope y’all have a lovely lunch. Unfortunately, I won’t be here.”

“What do you mean, you won’t be here?”

“I mean I’ll go somewhere else for lunch. I will not allow you to play matchmaker for me with a man who is as unsuitable for me as I am for him.”

Birdie pivoted around slowly, then smiled broadly when she glanced at the front door. “You do whatever you want, sugar, but I’m going to issue my invitation in person.”

Lori Lee followed her aunt’s mesmerized stare, straight to the man approaching the front entrance. When the door opened, a blustery wind blew a gust of frozen rain into the shop as Rick Warrick entered. He shook the rain from his shaggy black hair and brushed icy droplets off his thick, corduroy work jacket. Lori Lee noticed the swirl of dark chest hair peeping over the top of his beige thermal undershirt.

“Good day, ladies.”

The sound of his deep, husky voice rippled along Lori Lee’s nerve endings like Mississippi sorghum poured over hot flapjacks.

“Well, hello, Rick,” Aunt Birdie said. “You boys taking a lunch break? Because if you are, Lori Lee and I would like to invite you to share lunch with us. I brought leftovers from my Sunday dinner.”

“Thank you, Miss Birdie—”

“Aunt Birdie.”

“Thank you, Aunt Birdie. I’m sure your leftovers will beat the heck out of my cold bologna sandwich.” Rick ran his fingers through his damp hair. “I’d be happy to accept your offer, if we can postpone eating for a bit.”

“Wonderful.” Birdie beamed, her eyelashes fluttered. “How long shall we wait? It’s nearly noon. I thought y’all took your lunch break at twelve.”

“We do, and my men are getting ready to eat right now. But before I join you ladies for lunch, I’d like y’all to come next door for a minute.”

“Is something wrong?” Lori Lee asked. “Have y’all run into a problem of some sort in removing the old heating system?”

“No, ma’am, not a problem, just an interesting development,” Rick said. “While we were tearing out the old heating unit, a part of the wooden wall behind it fell in. The boards were rotted clean through.”

“Was it some type of support wall?” Lori Lee went into the basement as seldom as possible. She hated the creepy feeling it gave her, as if she were inside a tomb. “Is there any danger of the upper level floor falling in?”

“No, nothing like that,” Rick assured her. “The wall served no purpose, really. I figure it was put up to close off part of the basement. We found something down there I thought you and Miss...Aunt Birdie might like to see.”

“Something in our basement?” Dimples creased Birdie’s fat cheeks. “Well, you go on over, sugar, and check it out. I’m afraid I can’t get up and down those rickety old stairs.” She smiled at Rick. “Just what have you found?”

“It looks like a bar,” Rick said. “And not just any bar. This sucker is a huge, ornately carved wooden bar, a good fifteen feet long.”

“Oh, my, yes.” Birdie clapped her hands together like a giddy child. “I’ve heard the rumors all my life, but I never realized that the old speakeasy was located in the basement of one of my buildings. Isn’t this exciting?”

Lori Lee didn’t know whether she would call the discovery of an old bar beneath her studio exciting or not, but Aunt Birdie and Rick certainly seemed to think so. She really wasn’t interested in exploring the subterranean depths beneath Tuscumbia, but if she didn’t pacify Aunt Birdie’s curiosity, her elderly aunt just might try to make the journey into the basement herself.

“All right. Let’s go see this great marvel.” Lori Lee wondered if she’d need her jacket. But if she took the time to bundle up and get an umbrella it would only prolong this little adventure. “We’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

“Take your time,” Birdie called after them as they rushed out the door.

The awnings connecting the two buildings partially protected them from the downpour, but not from the wind gusts. Rick flung the door open for her, then followed her inside. Several workers spoke or nodded to Lori Lee; she returned their greetings. The men sat on the floor, their lunches spread out around them like a picnic.

“It’s quite a sight, Miss Guy. Bet that bar’s been in the basement since the twenties,” one of the crew members said. “After lunch we’ll clean up all that old rotted wood before we do anything else.”

Rick placed his hand in the small of Lori Lee’s back and guided her down the basement steps. His hand was big and warm and strong. His touch seared her through her sweater.

No other man’s touch had ever affected her the way Rick’s did. Years after he’d grabbed her on the front porch when she was seventeen, she’d told herself that she had exaggerated the power of his touch, that memories often played tricks on a person’s emotions. But this touch wasn’t memory. It was here and now—and its power was as great as she remembered.

She hurried down the steps, fleeing from him, trying to escape the unwanted sensations spiraling up from the depths of her femininity. The chill of the damp basement hit her suddenly. She shivered. Hugging her body to warm herself, she rubbed her palms up and down her arms.

“Are you cold?” Rick asked, coming up behind her.

“Yes,” she admitted. “I should have brought my coat.”

Before she could utter a protest, he removed his jacket and flung it around her shoulders. As she turned to face him, he pulled the zippered edge across her chest. His hands lingered, his long, thick fingers clutching the material. His knuckles rested in the crevice between her breasts.

Lori Lee looked at his hands. Big and broad. The tops sprinkled with dark hair. The palms callused.

“Thank you. But won’t you be cold without it?” She lifted her gaze to his face and her breath caught in her throat. Didn’t the man ever shave? Or was it that his heavy black beard gave him a perpetual five-o’clock shadow?

A lock of hair hung across the edge of his forehead. She longed to brush the errant strand away from his eye. She clenched her hand into a tight fist, warning herself not to touch him.

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