When Love is True
Joan Kilby

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Mike

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Epilogue

Chapter 1

Two sets of bubbles rose from the scuba divers off the west coast of Vancouver Island. Chloe Bennett, wrapped in a duffel coat against the chill January air, watched the spreading ripples intersect and wondered which set of bubbles belonged to her husband, Daniel, and which belonged to Evan, her former lover?

Her nineteen-year-old daughter, Brianna, poked about in tide pools, and Chloe could see her glowing blond head as she wandered between granite boulders as large and smooth as a whale’s back. Other questions surfaced, which Chloe had given up pondering years earlier. Who had fathered the child who’d brought her and Daniel to the altar—Evan or her husband?

Chloe worried about Daniel. Evan was a highly experienced scuba diver, but Daniel was a novice and this deep-water shipwreck was quite possibly beyond his present capability. Only Chloe knew that his confidence was at least partly feigned. Only she knew he was there in large part because he was determined not to show weakness in front of his rival.

She wrapped her duffel coat tighter and shivered at the memory of the rage in Daniel’s eyes as the men had suited up on the cobblestone beach between the towering cedar trees. She understood his hostility toward Evan, but why had he turned on her? Was it possible Daniel had overheard her conversation with Evan at the house before the dive?

Twenty years earlier…

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” Esme dabbed at the delicate skin beneath her daughter’s eyes and the damp tissue came away smudged with dark brown mascara. “This is the happiest day of your life.”

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Chloe swallowed and pressed a trembling hand to her stomach, which was cinched tight in ivory satin. A worn pair of ballet shoes hung by their pink ribbons from a knob on her old brass bed, a reminder of the career she was giving up just as she was reaching her peak.

“Nerves,” Esme pronounced with a bright smile. “All brides get cold feet before the ceremony.” She tossed away the used tissue and pushed at Chloe’s wispy red-gold bangs with her beringed fingers. “Turn around and let me adjust your veil.”

“Mom, stop!” Chloe clutched her mother’s wrists with icy fingers. “It’s not nerves. It’s morning sickness.”

Esme’s dark blue eyes widened. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I was,” Chloe said bitterly. “Why do you think I’m getting married?”

“I’d hoped it was for love.” Esme’s gaze skimmed Chloe’s thin, muscular figure for any hint of a pregnancy. “You’ve only been seeing Daniel for a few months. Before that you were head over heels for that Australian doctor who went to work in the refugee camp. What was his name?”

“Evan.” Brilliant, handsome, charming Evan had lit up her life like a bolt of summer lightning before leaving for Sudan and plunging her world into darkness. That they’d fought before he’d left added another layer to her misery. Fresh tears spilled over Chloe’s lower lashes and she grabbed another tissue from the box on the maple dresser.

Esme sat Chloe on the bed and put an arm around her. “Is the baby Evan’s? There was something about him I didn’t like. He was a little too glib, if you ask me.”

“You only met him once, so that’s hardly fair.” Wearily, Chloe shrugged her lace-covered shoulders. “I don’t know whose baby I’m carrying. Daniel and I spent only one night together, but it could also be his.”

Dependable, solid Daniel, a man of few words and kind deeds. She couldn’t have found anyone more different than Evan, if she’d tried. After that first impetuous night with Daniel she’d leaned on him, taking comfort in his steady companionship. In the months following Evan’s departure, however, it was hard not to compare Daniel’s predictable ways to Evan’s quicksilver charm.

Esme rubbed Chloe’s back as if she were comforting a young child. “You don’t have to have the baby. Aside from the question of paternity, it’ll put a crimp in your ballet career. You’ve worked hard for years and you’re finally a soloist.”

Chloe twisted the tissue into a knot in her hands. “When I think of Evan traveling across the world to save other children’s lives, how could I do that? I want this baby, Mom. I really do.”

“But you shouldn’t marry Daniel if you don’t love him,” Esme argued. “It’s not fair to him.”

“He knows I don’t love him—not in the way I feel about Evan. He says that what matters is for the baby to have a mom and a dad. I like Daniel a lot, Mom. He’s really good to me. And he wants the baby, even if it isn’t his.”

“What if Evan comes back?”

Chloe sniffed and dabbed at her nose. “He didn’t want to get engaged or make any sort of promise. Two years is a long time, but I thought what we had was special. The worst part is we didn’t make up before he left. I wrote him twice—once to tell him about the baby, and then to let him know I was getting married.

“He didn’t reply to either of my letters. I kept hoping he’d show up in time to stop the wedding.” She drew in a deep breath and then let it out. “I guess it’s too late now.”

“Regardless of Evan, it’s not too late to back out,” Esme urged. “It would be hard on Daniel, but he would understand. You could come back home for a while, and your father and I would help with the baby. Marriage is a commitment you shouldn’t make unless you’re one hundred percent happy about it.”

Chloe shook her head. “I can’t. You should have seen Daniel’s face when I told him I was pregnant. He was so happy, you’d think we’d planned it.”

When her mother started to protest, Chloe added quickly, “It’s not just for his sake that I agreed to get married. My baby deserves a father, and I know Daniel will make a good one.” She tugged at the tissue, and it fell apart in her hands. “I’ll never have another love like Evan, and so I might as well do what’s best for my child.”

“Well, if that’s really what you want…” Esme’s loving face softened into a thoughtful smile. “Maybe the baby will bring you and Daniel together.”

“That’s what he said.” Chloe twisted the diamond ring—more than Daniel could afford—that weighed down her left hand. “I hope you’re right.”

Esme held her daughter’s tight. “Daniel’s a fine man. I’m sure you’ll grow to love him.”

A horn honked on the street below. Daniel was forgotten as Chloe ran to the window, every fantasy she’d entertained over the past month rushing to the surface. Evan was here to stop the wedding and whisk her away. He wanted her baby, even if it wasn’t his; he loved her more than life itself.

The car outside was a white stretch limousine.

Feet sounded on the stairs. Jasmine, Chloe’s best friend and maid of honor, hurried in, her dark curls bouncing above a pale blue taffeta gown. “Your father’s here to take us to the church.”

Reality settled like a cloak of chain mail around Chloe’s shoulders, pulling her back to earth. Slowly she turned away from the window. There would be no last-minute romantic escape. She was marrying Daniel Bennett and that was that.

Blinking away her tears, she smiled and did her best to inject a lightness into her voice. “Here comes the bride.”

Daniel’s heart overflowed with joy and relief as he watched Chloe follow her bridesmaids in a slow procession down the aisle. Contrary to his fears, she hadn’t backed out at the last minute. In her shimmering dress, with burnished hair piled high, she looked like a princess. He tried to catch her eye, but her attention was fixed on the altar.

Daniel’s gaze dropped to Chloe’s stomach, which was hidden by a bouquet of freesias and white roses. “Who gets married these days just because the girl is pregnant?” Rob, his brother and best man, had asked.

Daniel’s answer had been simple, “I do.”

How was it possible to love a woman as much as he loved Chloe, when she didn’t love him back? He hadn’t been looking for a wife; he was just a carpenter working on the construction of new homes, without a thought for the future. He’d taken his dirty clothes to the Laundromat and there she’d been, weeping over another man’s dirty shirt.

Rob thought he was a sap for getting involved with a woman on the rebound, but Daniel didn’t care. Chloe’s relationship with Evan was over—she’d told him so. Daniel had never met anyone like her. Small and bright, lively and graceful, she reminded him of a robin, vivid red against a snow-covered fence, a sure sign that spring was on its way.

He hadn’t intended to drink quite so much that first night. He’d simply tagged along to look out for her while she drowned her sorrows, but she’d insisted he match her glass for glass. Even then, it had been she who had pulled him into bed—not that he’d put up any resistance.

Daniel glanced around the packed church, which was filled with smiling, happy people. Dozens of his relatives were there, and Chloe had also invited numerous friends. Guests who couldn’t find seats stood in a throng behind the back pew. There, a blond man with a three-day beard and rumpled black shirt caught Daniel’s eye. Alone, among the many guests, this man was scowling.

Daniel’s uneasy gaze moved back to Chloe. She was almost at the head of the aisle, gripping her father’s arm with white knuckles. Then she took her place beside Daniel. Daniel’s fingers curled into his palms, but he kept his smile steady and his gaze loving. No one was forcing her to marry him. Sure, she had doubts; that was understandable. That’s why she needed him to be strong, certain.

The ceremony was brief, but to Daniel at least it was full of meaning. The solemn words and religious ritual sanctified their union, assured him that this marriage was meant to be. The legal bond gave him rights. The child gave him responsibilities. Chloe gave him…Well, Chloe had given him herself. And he intended to keep her.

“I do.” She smiled at him, her voice tremulous but sincere.

“I do.” His fingers shook as he slid the wedding band onto her finger.

Daniel kissed his bride. It was brief but, oh, so sweet. A surge of love and a fierce desire to protect and cherish her welled up in Daniel as he smiled into her eyes. Then they turned as one and walked down the aisle. The flowers decorating the pews gave off a heady scent. Chloe’s hand felt small and cold nestled inside Daniel’s, like a wounded bird seeking refuge.

He glanced sideways at her clean, sharp profile and his heart soared. The baby would complete the job the ceremony had begun and bind them with love and purpose.

Then he became aware of movement among the guests to his left. The blond man in the black shirt was edging his way to the front. Chloe noticed him a split second later. Daniel felt her hand tighten in his, heard her faint gasp. Evan, her ex-lover. Chloe’s step faltered. Daniel supported her elbow and bore her out the door and down the steps. Away, he had to get her away.

They had almost reached the waiting limo when she glanced over her shoulder. Her entire being strained backward and Daniel read the terrible truth in Chloe’s eyes, as a blizzard of confetti swirled around them.

She still loved Evan. He wondered if she always would.

Evan prowled the perimeter of the reception hall like a wolf circling a rival’s territory. He was the un-invited guest and he felt like howling. He’d come straight from the airport—his unpacked suitcase was still in the trunk of his rental car. His fingers rubbed against the stubble on his jaw. He hadn’t even taken time to shave.

Chloe and her new husband were seated at the brightly lit head table, looking as stiff as the plastic figurines atop the wedding cake. Chloe’s eyes followed Evan’s progress around the room, tethering him to the hall with her longing. The groom was aware of Evan, too, and his dark eyes smoldered with anger and resentment.

Why had she tied herself to this doltish lumberjack of a man, Evan wondered. She’d moved toward that altar as if she were a virgin on her way to be sacrificed. Her nearly illegible note, dashed off in haste and smudged with her tears, had explained that she was pregnant. Whose baby was it?

Evan picked a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter. Was theirs a once-in-a-lifetime love, as Chloe had maintained? Certainly his feelings for her were strong enough to make him catch the first flight out of Khartoum after receiving her letter. That had surprised even him but, then, he was always prepared, physically and mentally, for a quick departure.

The happy couple were getting up to dance the first waltz together. Evan tilted back his champagne, downing it in a long swallow that made his nose burn. Traditional claptrap, this had to be the groom’s doing. Chloe was a free spirit.

A hand slid over Evan’s forearm and he turned to see an attractive brunette in a red dress. “I’m Valerie,” the woman said. “Would you like to dance?”

Evan started to decline—he wasn’t fit company for anyone tonight. Then he glanced toward the dance floor again and set his glass on the nearest table. “It would be my pleasure.”

He remembered to smile at his partner and tried to reply to her small talk, but his gaze kept drifting to Chloe. Her face, with its fine bones and eyes the color of the summer sky at twilight, was more memorable than beautiful. Although she was small, she held her back straight and her head fiercely upright. Her steps were deliberate and graceful. Her eyes were puffy, however, as if she’d been crying.

Two dances later, Evan thanked Valerie and turned to face Chloe. With a self-mocking smile and a stiff bow, he said, “My best wishes to the happy couple.”

“You weren’t invited…” the big man began.

“Oh, but I was,” Evan said, his voice grating slightly with the effort of being civil. “Chloe sent me a letter.”

“Daniel,” Chloe said, holding his arm. “This is Evan.”

“Who cares?” Daniel growled.

“I don’t expect you to,” Evan replied evenly. Then he turned to Chloe and asked, “May I have this dance?”

Daniel glared at him and touched Chloe on the elbow, a gesture that was both possessive and protective. “Don’t.”

“It’s okay, Daniel,” Chloe said, taking a deep breath as if to calm herself. “I’ll see you back at the table.”

By sheer coincidence, the next song was a ballad that Evan and Chloe had first heard together. Evan drew her into his arms and pressed his lips against her temple, not caring who saw them or what anyone thought.

“Evan, don’t,” she said, resisting his embrace.

“Chloe, love,” he murmured. “What have you done?”

She leaned away from him to search his face. “I thought you weren’t going to come.” Her voice broke. “You came too late.”

There was no point now in hurting her. Evan had watched the entire ceremony, including the part where the minister had asked if there was any reason why Chloe and Daniel shouldn’t be joined together. The impulse to speak had been there, but only fleetingly. Evan had told her before he’d left for Sudan that he’d be back when his stint was up—and probably that would have been true. But they’d known each other a mere six weeks and he was only twenty-eight; he had a whole world to explore before he settled down.

“I’ll regret that for the rest of my life.” He cupped her chin with his long fingers and lifted it so he could search her eyes. “Is the baby mine?”

“I’m not sure,” she said, her gaze sliding sideways.

A surge of irrational anger ran through him. “You got over me awfully quickly.”

“I wrote to you twice,” she shot back. “You didn’t answer.”

“It’s not a sedate suburban clinic over there,” he said tersely. “People are dying by the thousands.”

They continued to dance in silence for a few minutes, tense at first but then gradually she relaxed and let him draw her closer. “Is hubby taking you on a honeymoon to some romantic destination?”

“We’re not going anywhere,” she told him. “Daniel has to work.”

Evan raised their joined hands to brush his lips across her knuckles. “My return flight isn’t until the end of the week. While hubby’s away, Chloe could play.”

Her gaze locked with his and heat rose between them. For two cents he’d drag her out of this hall and say to hell with her husband, to hell with Sudan.

“I’m married,” she whispered. “Daniel’s a good man. I can’t betray him.”

Evan felt a sharp stab of pain over what he’d lost. He almost felt as if he’d been betrayed. He’d been careless with women’s feelings before, but no one had ever mattered to him the way Chloe did. Until this moment he hadn’t even realized how strong his feelings were for her. “Paul Bunyan over there might be your lawful husband,” he said, “but you’ll always belong to me.”

“Oh, Evan, this is such a mess.” She sighed. “I love you, but I can’t…” Her voice trailed off.

“You could if you wanted to.” At that, her mouth pressed into a thin, stubborn line, and Evan knew he wasn’t going to get his own way tonight. To his dismay, his voice shook as he asked, “Before I go may I kiss the bride?”

She nodded and he lowered his mouth to hers in a brief kiss that was achingly sweet and salted by tears. Evan cradled Chloe in his arms, lost in emotion and not knowing how he’d gotten that way.

A large hand grasped his arm, pulling Evan back. Damn, it was the glowering lumberjack. Evan cast a last glance at Chloe, and then released her. “She’s all yours, mate,” he said roughly to Daniel. “For now.”

Chapter 2

Bubbles streamed from the mouthpiece of Daniel’s regulator and cold water seeped into his wet suit. After an awkward duck dive he hauled himself hand over hand down the rocky underwater slope. Evan descended in an effortless glide, with an occasional casual flip of his fins. The bastard made it look so easy.

The sound of his own rasping breath and thudding heart filled Daniel’s silent world. Then, as he went deeper and the pressure increased, he gained speed. Starfish and anemones slid past, barely noticed. Twenty feet, thirty feet…With too many weights on his belt, he was going too fast. He banged his knee on a rocky outcropping. The underwater flashlight strapped to his calf clanked against rocks.

Daniel fumbled for the hose of his buoyancy compensator and spurted compressed air into the vest, slowing his descent. Relief flooded his veins and he realized he was sweating despite the cold.

At the base of the slope, hovering in a cloud of sediment that rose up from the soft ocean floor, Evan waited patiently, his upturned face pale inside his mask. Anger surged through Daniel at the thought he’d allowed himself to be goaded into this expedition; had allowed this man access to his family. Daniel should be pummeling the brilliant Dr. Cutler, not trying to prove he was the man’s equal.

At the bottom Daniel was still breathing heavily, and he consciously tried to slow his oxygen intake. Eyebrows raised, Evan put his thumb and forefinger together in the universal sign, waiting for Daniel’s answer to the question of whether everything was okay.

Everything was not okay. His wife was in love with this man and she was probably, right this minute, planning to go away with him. Daniel formed his fingers into a circle in response. Okay.

Inside, he seethed.

Chloe unbuttoned her blouse and pushed aside her nursing bra. Six-month-old Brianna latched eagerly on to the exposed nipple and started to suck. Her sturdy little legs in their pink sleeper pushed against the arm of the chair and a tiny hand clutched at Chloe’s breast.

Outside, cold November rain was falling for the fifth day in a row, making Chloe feel like a prisoner in her own home. The rental house was small and shabby, the living room dim even in midafternoon. It was all so dreary!

Chloe stroked her daughter’s downy cheek and peace settled over her, wrapping the two of them in a cocoon. Now and then Brianna stopped sucking, making small gusty sighs that caused Chloe to smile. Any hardship, any sorrow, was endurable for Brianna’s sake but, oh, she missed the modern light-filled apartment overlooking the water that she’d lived in before she was married.

She’d just switched the baby to her other breast when she heard Daniel’s truck pull into the gravel driveway at the side of the house. The back door opened and his boots clunked heavily on the rubber mat just inside.

Daniel padded through the living room on his way to the bedroom. Noticing Chloe, he stopped. “Why are you sitting in the dark?” he asked, flipping on the lamp.

Chloe blinked against the light. “You’re home early.”

“Can’t work in this rain.” Beads of water glistened in his black hair, which was messy from being pushed out of his eyes. “We’re raising the roof trusses and it’s too dangerous, even with scaffolding.”

He bent to kiss the top of her head. Chloe glanced up and saw his gaze on her bare breast, and she tried, without appearing obvious, to cover herself.

Daniel pretended not to notice and gently touched the back of Brianna’s hand with a fingertip. The baby stopped sucking to smile at him. “Do you want some tea?” he asked Chloe, keeping his eyes averted.

“Yes, please,” she responded, feeling contrite and resentful at the same time. His love made her feel guilty, because she didn’t reciprocate it. They’d both known what they were getting into when they’d decided to marry, but somehow the reality had turned out to be different from the theory.

Daniel put on the kettle, then took Brianna away to change her diaper. Chloe pulled her clothing back together and went out to the kitchen to finish making the tea. As she rinsed out the teapot in the chipped enamel sink, she felt the floorboard sag beneath her feet and looked down to see water seeping between the worn green linoleum and the baseboard.

“Daniel,” she called. “We’ve got a problem!”

He appeared in the doorway with Brianna in his arms and watched Chloe bounce up and down on the soggy boards. “This place is a piece of crap,” he said, disgusted. “We can’t have Brianna crawling around in here.”

“This wouldn’t be happening, if we’d stayed in my apartment,” Chloe couldn’t help but say.

“We couldn’t afford your apartment—as I explained when we went over our budget,” Daniel replied patiently. “Here, we’ll have a backyard for Brianna to play in next summer.”

Chloe sighed as she dropped tea bags into the pot and poured boiling water over top. She supposed Daniel was right, but next summer seemed a million years away. “I’ll call the landlord. If we’re lucky he’ll get someone in before the weekend.”

“Don’t bother,” Daniel said, getting an arrowroot cookie out of the tin for Brianna. “I’ll fix it myself and ask for a reduction in rent.”

Chloe’s eyebrows rose. She still wasn’t used to being with a man who could not only build a house from the ground up but who could fix anything that was broken. She poured the tea, and then carried steaming mugs into the living room.

Daniel was sitting on the floor with Brianna. After a moment’s hesitation, Chloe lowered herself to the carpet to join them, tucking in one leg in and stretching out the other. Brianna sat between Chloe and Daniel, slightly wobbly but holding herself up. Chloe handed her a squeaky toy and the little girl pressed on the plastic dog with both hands, trying to make it squeak.

Daniel sipped his tea. “What did you do today?”

“Laundry, cleaning…The usual stuff.” Chloe pressed her fingers into her stomach and felt the muscles that had gone soft with disuse and stretching during her pregnancy. If she was dancing they would soon tighten up again, but she wasn’t going back—at least not right away. They couldn’t afford child care and, anyway, she wanted to be home with Brianna. “The Joffrey Ballet is in town from New York. If my mother can baby-sit, do you want to go?”

Daniel snorted. “Pay all that money to watch a bunch of guys in tights? No, thanks.”

Chloe glanced away, stung by his dismissive tone and remembering the performance she’d attended with Evan, the week before he’d left. Afterward, they’d discussed the story behind the dance and talked about how skillfully the dancers had interpreted it.

Silence descended on the room, the only sound the beating of the rain on the roof and Brianna’s soft babbling. The tot banged her play dog on the carpet, finally eliciting a tiny squeak. Not satisfied with this, however, she twisted around and offered the toy to her father.

Daniel made the dog squeak and Brianna gurgled happily, displaying a gummy grin with two small bottom teeth. Then Daniel growled and tickled Brianna’s tummy with the plaything. She convulsed in a belly laugh, her bright blue gaze darting between Chloe and Daniel as if inviting them both to share in her delight.

“She’s really alert, isn’t she?” Daniel’s voice was full of pride.

Chloe smiled warmly at Daniel, her undercurrent of disappointment forgotten with their mutual adoration of Brianna. “You should have seen her today, picking up blocks and putting them in a bucket. She wore a little frown of concentration, so serious and so cute.”

Brianna spied a ball behind the couch and hoisted herself onto her hands and knees, rocking back and forth as if getting ready to launch herself across the room.

Daniel grabbed the ball and placed it a foot away. Brianna edged forward. “Chloe, look, she’s crawling. That’s my girl!”

Chloe chuckled as Brianna reached for the ball and collapsed on her tummy. Noting the pride and pleasure on Daniel’s face, she thought about his choice of words—“that’s my girl.” “We could get a DNA test,” she said, broaching the delicate subject, which Daniel always seemed to want to avoid. “Then you’d know for sure if she was yours.”

“She already is mine.”

“I know, but…”

“I don’t need proof,” Daniel insisted. “I couldn’t love her any more if I’d given birth to her myself.”

Chloe smiled, relieved. “Okay.”

Daniel placed a hand on Chloe’s outstretched leg and began to massage her calf with his rough calloused fingers. For a moment Chloe just thought about how good it felt. But then she saw his dark eyes heat and she tensed and looked away, not wanting to encourage him. Daniel’s smile faded as he withdrew his hand. The warmth that had built between them over Brianna suddenly cooled.

Chloe felt sick at the hurt and anger she could see in Daniel’s eyes, but she couldn’t help her feelings. Before Brianna was born she’d responded to Daniel’s lovemaking as warmly as she could, considering how she still felt about Evan. Recovering from the birth had given her a brief reprieve, but now Daniel clearly wanted to resume their previous intimacy. At night in bed she sensed his need—as he moved restlessly in his sleep beside her and awoke each morning with an erection. She could see his frustration as he’d turn his naked body away from her and head to the bathroom for a long shower.

Chloe wanted to be a good wife to Daniel. Sex was part of that, but it was hard for her when she wasn’t in love with him. She liked being cuddled and she enjoyed the warmth and safety of being wrapped in his strong arms. Daniel had been her friend before he became her husband, and she appreciated it. But now it seemed they were losing even that.

Chloe got to her feet and went to the window. The rain still poured down steadily, shrouding them in a silver curtain. If only she could take Brianna for a walk—anything to get out of the house. But the weather wasn’t going to lift.

She watched the red mail truck slowly progress up the street, making frequent stops at the closely set houses. Outside their gate the driver jumped out in his raincoat and boots and leaned across a big puddle to push an envelope and flyers though the slot in the box.

Chloe caught a glimpse of blue—an airmail letter? Her heart leaped wildly. She’d told Evan not to write; there was no point now that she was married. But she didn’t know anyone else who would send her a letter from overseas. “Mail’s here.”

“I’ll go.” Daniel started to get up. “You stay here where it’s dry.”

“No!” she said, quickly adding, “I need to get out of the house. For some fresh air.”

Before he could protest, she threw on her raincoat and boots and splashed down the path to the front gate. Putting her body between the letterbox and the window, she leafed through the flyers for the pale blue envelope. Evan’s handwriting jumped out at her, as did the Sudanese stamp and Arabic script. Stifling the impulse to pirouette in her rubber boots, she bounced on her toes and grinned foolishly. Raindrops were soaking the thin paper, so she quickly folded the letter and shoved it into the front pocket of her jeans.

Hurrying back inside, Chloe was torn between wanting to run to the bathroom to read Evan’s message and knowing she had to go back to the living room and talk to Daniel as if nothing had happened.

“Any mail?” Daniel called.

Chloe stood in the doorway. “Just some flyers.”

“Let’s see.” As she walked across to hand him the flyers, his gaze dropped to her pocket.

She glanced down involuntarily. Damp splotches darkened the faded denim. Swiftly she picked up Brianna and started to move away.

“Nothing else?” Daniel’s voice was deceptively casual.

Her back to him, Chloe surprised herself when she was able to answer lightly, “No.”

It was the first time she’d ever lied to Daniel—a stupid lie since he’d already caught her out. The letter from Evan in her pocket made her feel as if she had a scarlet A emblazoned on her forehead. She knew she was wrong to cling to the memory of Evan but between Daniel and Brianna, she had no life of her own any more. Couldn’t she have this one reminder of her old life?

“Chloe?” Daniel said softly.

“I’m going to put Brianna down for her nap,” she said, ignoring his unspoken plea. “Then I’ll have a bath.”

She tucked in Brianna and left the little girl murmuring softly to herself, then went to run a bath. Lavender-scented bath oil mingled with the stream of gushing water, filling the room with fragrant steam. Her blood humming in her veins, Chloe locked the door and stripped off her clothes.

She slit open the letter with a nail file, then eased herself into the tub, taking care not to get water on the flimsy writing paper. Banging erupted in the kitchen, followed by Daniel’s muttered cursing. Chloe frowned at the closed door, worried the outburst would wake Brianna. She waited, tense and listening, until the noise abated.

Darling Chloe, she read, as she sank a little lower in the hot scented water. I’m writing this by flashlight, as the generators have been turned off for the night. I know you told me not to write, but I can’t help myself. Your photo is among my few personal possessions on the wooden crate next to the army cot that is my bed.

You must have had your baby by now. Did your labor go all right? Does the baby look like you? Girl or boy? Not a day goes by that I don’t berate myself for being halfway around the world when you needed me.

We’re working sixteen-hour days in the most appalling conditions. The only thing that makes life bearable is the human contact. Jumma, the young Darfur boy who runs errands between the operating tent and the doctor’s quarters, regularly has us in stitches…. Evan went on to relate a series of anecdotes that had Chloe alternately smiling and shaking her head. The world he described, while unimaginably dreadful, also contained glimpses of humor and humanity. It took her far away from her mundane round of diapers and 2:00 a.m. feedings and the daily routine of making dinner for a husband who, although kind and loving, didn’t know Nureyev from Nabokov.

Finally, Evan concluded, Remember how we talked all night and made love at dawn? I still get excited just thinking of you. I’m consumed with jealousy, knowing that someone else has his hands on your lovely body. Someday, somehow, I swear we’ll be together again. Till then, thoughts of you dance like a butterfly upon my heart. Adieu, sweet Chloe. Forever yours, Evan.

Chloe lay back in the water, the hand holding the letter dangling over the edge of the tub. Oh, Evan. She shut her eyes and could taste again his mouth on hers, feel his hands, sensitive and sure, touching her, arousing her. The letter slipped to the floor as she lost herself in memories of his lithe, strong body, like a god, like an angel. His laughter, his golden hair glinting in the sun, the sun-warmed scent of his skin…The images and feelings she created in her mind were so real that she never wanted to open her eyes.

Gradually the water cooled and reality intruded. Chloe sat up, blinking against the light, noticing the cracks in the green tiles, the black mold in the grout, the damp under-the-sink smell that never went away no matter how frequently she cleaned. Suddenly she felt weak and depressed.

Wearily she pulled herself up and looked around for the soap and a washcloth. Lathering soap onto the cloth, she started scrubbing. Tears rolled down her cheeks and fell onto her swollen breasts.

“Chloe?” Daniel’s voice was right outside the door. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she choked out. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“I’m going to get some plywood,” he said and started to open the door. “I need to wash my hands.”

“Wait!” Panicking, Chloe reached for Evan’s letter. Water dripped onto the tile floor and she spoke loudly to cover the rustle of paper. “Can’t you do that in the kitchen?”

“We’re out of soap there.” He paused before curtly adding, “May I come in?”

“Just a second.” Chloe shoved the letter into a drawer in the vanity. Submerging herself in the sloshing bathwater, she wrapped her arms around her bent knees. “Okay.”

Daniel glanced at the puddle on the floor and then looked at Chloe in the mirror. “You should come out if you’re cold.”

“I will soon.” Halfheartedly she splashed lukewarm water over her shoulders.

He searched the bottom cupboard. “I can’t find the soap. Did you put it in a drawer?”

“It’s in the cabinet,” Chloe said quickly. “I’m positive.”

Daniel glanced over his shoulder at her anxious tone, then moved a package of toilet paper. “You’re right. Here it is.” Carefully he unwrapped a bar of soap and put the paper in the trash. Even then he didn’t leave.

“What is it?” Chloe asked, ready to scream.

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Of course,” she said. “Why do you keep asking that?”

His dark eyes searched her face. He shrugged and said simply, “I’ll be back soon.”

She waited until she heard his truck pull out, then got out of the tub. Wrapped in a towel, she removed Evan’s letter from the drawer and tucked it inside a box of sanitary napkins. It was only when she was dressed and combing out her hair that she looked at the reflection of herself and saw her red-rimmed eyes.

Daniel wasn’t stupid. He must have guessed she was crying over a letter from Evan. If only she could talk things over with Daniel, the way she had when they’d met. He’d been so understanding, so compassionate, counseling her not to count on a man who had gone away without making up after they’d fought. What would he advise her to do now?

How do I stop loving the man who’s my kindred spirit? she imagined herself asking Daniel. How do I start loving my husband when we have nothing in common but our child? Was I wrong to marry one man when I love another?

But she could no longer talk to Daniel about Evan. She’d made her choice and it wasn’t fair to have second thoughts. Neither could she rid her heart of Evan, even if she’d wanted to. That was her real crime—she didn’t want to stop loving Evan.

Chloe layered on a woolen undershirt and one of Daniel’s thick flannel workshirts, drew on her heavy corduroy pants and buried her feet in socks and slippers, trying to get warm. She just had time to throw a stew together and get it simmering on the stove before Daniel returned from the building-supply outlet with sheets of plywood.

His handheld electric saw whirred, drowning out the radio Chloe’d turned on, and piece by piece he replaced the flooring. Chloe sat in the living room knitting a blanket for Brianna’s crib, shutting out her thoughts with the rhythmic clicking of the needles. After Daniel finished repairing the floor, he spent the rest of the day digging a trench down one side of the house and laying drainage tiles. He worked in the pouring rain until the light was gone, before coming in soaking wet, his nose dripping and his reddened hands like ice.

“I’ll run you a hot bath to warm up,” Chloe said, putting down her knitting to hang up his sodden rain jacket.

Daniel gave her an oblique glance. “No, thanks.”

Later she lay in bed in the dark, worrying, while she listened to Daniel brushing his teeth. A thin line of yellow light glowed around the closed bathroom door. She should have moved the letter to a safer place. She should have destroyed it. She should have…

The water stopped. The toothbrush clattered softly in the metal holder. Chloe caught her breath, her ears straining in the silence. She heard a drawer slide open slowly. More silence. Then the drawer was shut and another opened.

Daniel glanced through the contents of the drawer—hairdryer, bottles of shampoo and conditioner, a box of sanitary napkins, hairbrush. He picked up the half-empty box of napkins. If she thought he was too squeamish to look in here, she didn’t know him very well. Breath held, he pushed his hand inside…Bingo.

Daniel withdrew the envelope and studied the address. He was an expert on Evan’s bold, elegant handwriting, having seen the various cards he’d given Chloe, all of which she’d saved. There’d been a birthday card, cards with funny pictures and cards with romantic scenes, all overflowing with Evan’s witty observations, references to shared experiences or poetic allusions that Daniel didn’t begin to understand.

Daniel picked up the envelope and tested the solid thickness of several sheets of paper. Rage and despair flooded him as he thought about the sheer unfairness of having to compete with Evan, who used words so easily he could fill pages and pages with them. Daniel’s hand started to tighten around the envelope. Hastily he stuffed it back into the box before he ended up crumpling it into a ball. Quietly, carefully, he shut the drawer. He didn’t need to read the letter to know Evan had once again seduced Chloe.

Daniel had hoped that when they were married and Evan was gone again that part of Chloe’s life would be over. Now he realized it would never be over, as long as Evan continued to occupy a place in her mind and her heart. Daniel had married Chloe because he wanted to do right by her and the baby and because, God help him, he loved her.

Had they made a terrible mistake? He couldn’t say. All he knew was that, where Brianna was concerned, he’d done the only thing he could have done. Right or wrong became irrelevant when weighed against the bone-deep love he felt for the child. The only thing that gave him hope was the knowledge that Chloe felt the same about their daughter.

Daniel put his dirty clothes in the wicker hamper and folded his towel on the rack. Then, so he wouldn’t wake Chloe, he turned out the light and went to bed in the dark, feeling his way along the wall until his knee bumped the bedside table.

Once under the covers he was tormented by the warmth and scent of the woman in his bed. Usually he kept his distance, huddled on his side so he wouldn’t accidentally touch her thigh or brush against her breast and end up tossing and turning all night. Tonight repressed desire made him reach for her, and he wanted to possess her. He felt her tense, but he shifted closer to kiss her neck. “Chloe.”

She started to squirm away. “Daniel, I…”

He took her mouth before she could tell him to stop, plunging his tongue inside with a ruthlessness that further inflamed him. His hand found her breast and the blood roared in his ears. She started to kiss him back and her pelvis pressed against him so that he groaned aloud. At last. She wanted him, too.

“You’re beautiful, like a…a goddess,” he muttered clumsily, struggling to be the kind of man she longed for. “I want you more than a flower wants the sun, more than…” More than he could say, he thought disparagingly. He gave up and pressed his lips to her cheek and along her nose to her soft fluttering eyelashes. There he encountered moisture and tasted salt. Damn. She was crying.

“I’m s-sorry, Daniel,” she stuttered. “I…I can’t.”

His taut skin strained with a physical pain and his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her upper arm. A single word exploded from him. “When?”

She shrank back. “I don’t know.”

Daniel threw himself onto his back and flung an arm over his eyes, rigid in a red haze of thwarted desire. After a moment he became aware of her sharply drawn breaths and irregular hiccups. “Come here,” he said gruffly and pulled her into his arms.

She went with a soft sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Never mind,” he said heavily, smoothing her hair away from her face. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Maybe I could do it if…”

Hope surged and was quickly checked. Cautiously, he asked, “If what?”

“If you didn’t want me so much.”

At first he was confused. She didn’t want him to want her? How could they make love if he wasn’t aroused? Then he realized—she didn’t want him to need her emotionally. No words of love, no adoration or expectations. Just animals fulfilling their physical needs.

“I told you when I proposed, that I wouldn’t ask for more than you can give, and I stand by it,” he said quietly. He hadn’t realized at the time that not being able to express his love would be the price he was going to pay for her hand in marriage.

“Okay, then.” She turned to him awkwardly, a little shyly, and put her arms around his neck.

Daniel kissed her tentatively, trying not to pour all the bittersweet love he felt in his heart into a deep embrace that would make her withdraw again. Beneath her flannelette nightgown her skin was smooth and satiny, her muscles sleek and firm. Soon he forgot everything but the need to sink himself into her softness. He tugged the fabric up past her waist and over her head, gazing down at her. He could just make out the faint shine of her eyes. Don’t cry, babe.

Chloe bit her lip as she gazed up at him. “Please don’t be upset if I don’t come.” Quickly, she added, “It’s not that you’re not attractive or a good lover, it’s just that…”

Daniel pressed his fingers to her lips, silencing her. “Just don’t talk for a while.” He’d taken enough blows to his pride for one day.

He used a condom, even though she was breast-feeding and even though it was like locking the barn door after the horse had bolted. The last thing they needed was another accident. He was as tender as he could be and drew out the lovemaking as long as he could manage. But he’d wanted Chloe so badly and for so long that he came more quickly than he’d have wished. Just as she’d predicted, she didn’t climax.

When he’d recovered sufficiently, he lifted himself onto his elbows and kissed her damp eyelids. “Do you want me to…”

“No,” she said swiftly. “Thank you.”

Stung by her politeness as much as her rejection, Daniel drew himself out of her and rolled onto his back. Well, he’d known what the score was, because she’d told him. When was he going to figure it out? She didn’t want him. Didn’t need him. Didn’t damn well love him.

“Daniel?” She slipped one arm over his chest and snuggled into his side. “Let’s just hold each other.”

Daniel fought back his disappointment to savor having her in his arms, because just holding her satisfied another need as deep as sex. And who knew, tomorrow she might regret this intimacy and insist they go back to being husband and wife in name only.

After a few minutes’ silence, he said, “There’s a piece of waterfront property out past Sooke being subdivided.”

“Oh?” she replied, yawning sleepily.

“I’m building a house for the developer.” He stroked her hair, thinking how soft it was, like…like…“I want to buy one of the lots. The developer will do a straight trade, if I build his house for cost. After that, I’ll build a house for us. I’ve worked out the finances and it’s a stretch, but I think we can just manage.”

She’d been half-asleep in his arms, but suddenly there was a wakeful alertness to her. “A house for us?”

“It’s isolated,” he said quickly, “but I know you miss your view of the water and I’ve always loved the ocean. When we’re a bit more secure financially, we’ll get a second car for you. It would be good to have our own place.”

She was quiet for such a long time that he thought she’d fallen asleep, but when he turned to look, her eyes were wide open staring at the ceiling. He didn’t even want to ask what she was thinking. “Sleep on it,” he suggested.

“No, let’s just do it.” She spoke quietly but with a kind of grim determination.

Perhaps her lack of enthusiasm ought to have discouraged him, but instead the flickering flame of hope flared back to life. He kissed her temple and said, “I’ll call the owner in the morning.”

Someday, he vowed, she was going to love him as much as he loved her. As his eyes closed, a more sobering thought filtered through. Before that day came, how many times would she have to consciously choose him before he believed she intended to stay?

Chapter 3

The weight of the water pulled Daniel down. Sixty, then eighty feet; deeper than he’d ever gone before. The pressure glued his wet suit to his skin and sucked his mask against his face. It was cold and dark and eerily silent.

Evan left the rocks that marked the shoreline and moved out over the flat muddy sand of the ocean floor. Daniel forced himself to follow across the featureless landscape as visibility faded into murky darkness. The bottom sloped gently down. Every now and then one of Evan’s fins kicked up a cloud of silt, obscuring Daniel’s view of him.

Where were the other divers? Daniel twisted awkwardly in his bulky suit and constraining scuba gear, but he couldn’t see anyone else. He and Evan might be the only two people left on the planet. Wouldn’t that be fine? Trapped in a twilight zone of gloom with the one man in his life he could truly say he hated.

Damn Evan. He was swimming too fast, getting too far ahead. He was just a dim shape, a blur of blue neoprene against the dark sepia tones of the deep. How convenient if he “lost” Daniel down here. He’d be sure to comfort the poor widow. Would she grieve or would she secretly be glad?

Daniel checked his depth gauge—100 feet. This place gave him the creeps. For two cents, he’d surface right now. Except that Chloe would look at him with that sympathetic glance of hers, the one she used when she was trying to be comforting. She wouldn’t blame him for aborting the dive, but that was no consolation. Didn’t she know that a man didn’t want pity from his woman? He wanted respect, admiration, adoration. All the things he had always seen in her eyes when she looked at Evan.

Well, he wouldn’t beg for her love. That was one thing he’d decided on early in their marriage. She either loved him or she didn’t, but he would never demean himself by pleading for her affection.

Evan was completely out of sight now. Daniel fumbled for his flashlight, his fingers clumsy in the thick three-fingered mitts. Finally he felt the recessed button respond and a yellow beam illuminated an unexpected scene.

Rising from the sea floor not ten feet away were a dozen or so sea pens, their feathery bright orange fronds waving gently in the current like so many dyed ostrich plumes. He knew what they were from the book of underwater sea life Brianna had given him last Christmas, but he’d never thought he’d see such an amazing sight with his own eyes.

He swam over to them. After a few minutes of intense observation, he reached out to the delicate curling tentacles. At his touch, water squirted from the central stalk and the colony of animals that made up the pen deflated and sank into the sand. Surprised, Daniel kicked backward.

And bumped into Evan, coming to find him. Evan saw the sea pens and his mouth curved in an appreciative smile around his regulator. For a moment they were united by a common interest. For a moment Daniel forgot his antipathy. Then he remembered. That mouth that smiled in camaraderie had kissed Chloe, the hand that motioned him to “come on” had touched his wife intimately, the eyes that met his had looked upon her naked body.

He and Evan might be dive buddies, but they were about as far from being friends as two men could get.

“Close your eyes.” Daniel held Chloe by the hand and led her up the steps. Piles of offcuts and concrete rubble lay here and there, and the yard was bare dirt, but their new home was ready to move into.

“I’ve walked every inch of this house at every stage of construction,” Chloe said, with a little laugh over his excitement. “I’ve picked out tiles and carpets and paint colors. Why close my eyes now?”

“Just do it,” Daniel urged, turning a key in the lock. This was his moment and he wanted it to be perfect.

Chloe closed her eyes, then immediately opened them. “What about Brianna? We can’t leave her in the car.”

“She’s fast asleep,” Daniel reminded her. “The car’s parked in front of the garage, with the U-Haul truck right behind. She’ll be all right for a minute. Now close your eyes.”

Chloe obeyed. A moment later she let out a whoop as Daniel scooped her into his arms. “Keep them shut,” he warned, nudging the door open with his hip and carrying her across the threshold.

Chloe clung to his neck, shrieking a bit with every unexpected lurch. She felt like a wisp of nothing in his arms even though he’d seen the muscles in her thighs as she balanced on her toes. It was easy to forget how much strength was needed for her dancing.

The first time he’d seen her glide across a stage she’d reminded him of a sleek sea bird skimming over the waves. He’d wanted to shelter her, so he’d built a nest for her and their chick, combining those elements that held meaning for him—sky and sea, a cozy haven, a dwelling place for love.

Chloe would cringe with embarrassment if Daniel were to reveal his clumsy poetic thoughts. So he simply walked into the great room and stood with his back to the wide, tall windows high above the Strait of Juan de Fuca. He wanted her first sight to be the family room and kitchen, the heart of the house. “You can open your eyes now.”

Chloe slid out of his arms and gazed silently at the gleaming appliances and terra-cotta tiles, the warm Mediterranean colors. She turned slowly in a circle, past the breathtaking view, the built-in teak shelving and the stone fireplace, and back to Daniel. Solemn and silent, she seemed about to cry. “You did this.”

“Not all by myself.” There was an enormous lump in his throat. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, Daniel, it’s beautiful.” She put her arms around him, her words muffled by his shirt. “I knew what it was going to look like, but until now it was almost unreal—as if someone else was going to live here. I can’t believe it’s ours. You are amazing.”

Daniel held her, then reluctantly eased himself away. “I’ll go check on Brianna. You look around some more.”

“Wait.” Chloe slid a hand up his chest and curled her fingers around his neck. Balancing on her toes, she rose up to kiss him.

Her mouth opened and her tongue shyly pressed against his, flooding him with heat. Daniel gathered her close, hiding his rush of surprise by deepening the kiss. Chloe so rarely initiated anything. With one hand cupping her buttocks, Daniel gently molded one small, firm breast. To his surprise, she didn’t pull away as she so often had before, but instead reached for his belt buckle.

He glanced over his shoulder. The front door was open so they could hear Brianna if she cried out but…The front door was open.

Anyone could walk in, and the thought excited him.

“Don’t worry.” She was breathing heavily as she slid his zipper down over his bulging erection. “This won’t take long.”

“I don’t have a condom on me.”

Chloe grinned up at him. “We’re married, aren’t we?”

A jolt of pure joy shot through Daniel. He slid his hands beneath her denim skirt and eased down her panties. She was slick and hot beneath his probing fingers. Down onto the brand-new carpet they fell in a tangled heap, Daniel’s jeans halfway down his legs and Chloe’s skirt up around her waist. A button popped open on her blouse, exposing a swelling curve of flesh. Daniel sucked on the rosy nipple and felt Chloe’s legs spread beneath him. The submissive gesture, the giving way, the welcoming, flipped a switch in his brain and all the months of control slipped away as he entered her.

“Sorry,” he panted, withdrawing instantly. “Too hard?”

“Harder,” she said, teeth gritted, back arching.

Their coupling was short and fierce and sweet beyond measure. Afterward Daniel raised himself onto his elbows, taking his weight off her glistening body. Her eyes were closed, her smile dreamy with contentment. “So,” he said. “A new house is a big turn-on for you.”

Chloe tilted her head back and laughed, her slender throat vibrating. “It’s you, you big, sweaty lug. You’re the turn-on.”

Grinning, Daniel stuck his nose into an armpit. “That good? Maybe I should bottle it.”

Then her eyes opened, and Daniel was surprised to see them mist over as her laughter faded and was replaced with a tremulous smile. “Thank you, Daniel,” she whispered. “You’ve made us a family.”

“Brianna made us a family,” he replied gruffly.

Chloe ran her hands over his shoulders and down his arms, tracing the hard outlines of his biceps. “You are the bricks and mortar, the solid foundation of our lives. I really love you.”

The way she said it, she could have meant she loved him as a friend. Foolish or not, however, Daniel chose to interpret her words in the most positive way. He dipped his head to kiss her lightly on the lips. “Now that’s something to build upon.”

Daniel went out to the car and brought Brianna inside. The one-year-old rubbed her eyes and blinked sleepily at the unfamiliar surroundings. “She was just waking. If you want to take her, I’ll start bringing in our boxes.”

“Let’s look through the house together first,” Chloe said. “Decide where we want to put everything.”

“That’ll be an easy decision,” Daniel replied. “Since we don’t have much.”

The design of their house was elegant in its simplicity, and above all, it was functional. All the rooms were large and spacious. Their bedroom, like the living room, faced the ocean and had its own deck. Directly across the hall was Brianna’s room, then the bathroom and linen closet, and then a much larger room. Daniel had called it a rec room during construction, but now its true purpose was revealed.

Chloe stopped short in the doorway to survey the bare floorboards. “Where’s the carpet?” Then she noticed the barre and the wall-to-wall floor-to-ceiling mirror.

He waited, hands clenched, for her reaction. Why the hell hadn’t he discussed it with her first? He’d wanted to surprise her, that’s why.

Those mirrors had cost a fortune, but damn it, he wanted to give her this. He wanted her not to regret giving up her dancing along with her lover when she’d married him.

Brianna was wriggling in his arms, so Daniel set her on the floor. She toddled into the room, saw herself in the mirror and giggled with delight. With graceful steps, Chloe took the little girl’s hands and twirled her in a pirouette. She glanced over her shoulder at Daniel, her face alight. “This is wonderful. Thank you.”

Daniel felt the tension seep from his shoulders and he leaned against the doorjamb, watching his girls spin and twirl. Winning Chloe’s smile made the extra work and expense worthwhile. “I thought you could teach here, until you’re ready to rejoin the ballet company.”

Chloe’s steps slowed, and she surveyed the room as she examined the possibilities in her mind. “There aren’t many children around here, but Sooke isn’t so far away. Teaching might be just the thing.” Then she crossed the floor, to tug on his hands. “Come on, dance with us.”

“I’m no good at that stuff.” He loved the way Chloe celebrated life through her love of movement, but next to her he was big and clumsy.

“Yes, you are. Come on,” she urged, twirling under his arm. Her clear, sweet voice lilted in a wordless melody as she encouraged him to sidestep across the room.

Daniel felt like an idiot clunking around in his heavy boots, but Chloe’s smile was contagious and after a moment he laughed and gave in, hamming it up when Brianna started to clap. A rush of happiness caught him off guard. His wife had made love to him and his baby daughter adored him. Life was good. He picked up Chloe and Brianna in his arms and spun around until they were all dizzy and laughing.

Finally Chloe, gasping for breath, pounded on his shoulders. “Put me down.”

Daniel stopped spinning and set them down, still smiling. “Guess we’d better get to work.”

Within a couple of hours, they’d carried in the few pieces of furniture they owned—a brand-new bed with matching side tables, Brianna’s crib and chest of drawers, Daniel’s tallboy and a bookcase he’d had before they’d married, a couch and matching chair upholstered in maroon corduroy and a pine coffee table they’d bought at an auction. The only good piece of furniture they owned was a round oak dining table that Chloe’s parents had given them as a wedding present.

“Our furniture looks a bit shabby now that it’s in our new house,” Daniel said when they’d arranged the pieces. “And sparse.”

“It’s fine,” Chloe insisted, tucking her hand through his arm. “We’ll have more as we go along.”

Daniel covered her small hand with his larger one. In the year and a half that had passed since they’d gotten married, this was the first time she’d talked about the future with any sense of permanency.

“What’s important is that it’s a new beginning,” Daniel said, almost to himself.

Eyes shining, Chloe turned to face him and took both his hands in hers. “Yes. A new beginning.” Then her face dimmed a little and she bit her lip. “Daniel, I should tell you, I’ve been doing something I shouldn’t. You see…”

“Don’t.” He squeezed her hands, not wanting to hear the words spoken aloud. “You don’t need to say anything.” He hadn’t found any new letters in several months and he’d assumed that she’d finally gotten over the Australian doctor. He might have known for sure if he’d actually read the correspondence, but he’d refused to invade her privacy.

Her forehead creased in a worried frown. “But…”

He searched her face. “You meant it when you agreed this is a new beginning, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” She gazed back steadily and an understanding passed silently between them. With a tentative smile she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. “I swear I’ll be a good wife to you.”

Daniel stroked her hair, savoring the closeness. “Don’t be silly. You already are. Do you want to take a walk on the beach?”

Chloe’s glance shifted to the window and the bright blue sky. She hesitated and then she said, “Not right now. I’d like to unpack some of those boxes, and Brianna’s going to need something to eat soon. You go.”

Daniel followed the path he’d cleared on previous walks through the salal bushes down to the small beach. The coastline curved outward in either direction to a rocky point where waves surged and foamed. Here in the center of the cove, the water was calm. A breeze ruffled his hair and brought the tang of salt and seaweed close. Brianna would learn to swim here, the way he’d learned to swim on the west coast of the island near Tofino where he’d grown up. The water was cold, but that just made a person strong.

He walked along the shoreline, his boots crunching in the loose shells and gravel, stooping now and then to pick up an abalone shell and admire its opalescent inner surface. A crow flew overhead, cawing, and settled with a noisy flap of black wings high in a fir tree at the edge of the beach.

As Daniel rubbed a smooth stone between his fingers, thoughts of Chloe flitted through his mind. The sweetness of her smile, her eagerness as she surged beneath him, her passionate feelings for their new house. Just when he thought he was beginning to understand her, she surprised him. It would probably always be that way with them. The fact that she was his wife at all was still astonishing.

Daniel stopped and looked up at the house and felt his heart fill with pride and hope for the future. This was their home. His and Chloe’s and Brianna’s. Someday there would be more children.

He frowned and blinked. Was that a wisp of smoke coming from the fireplace chimney? Daniel stared hard for another minute, then shook his head. The sky was perfectly clear. He must have been imagining things.

Pocketing the abalone shell to show Chloe and Brianna, he headed back to the house.

Humming the celebrated pas de deux from Swan Lake, Chloe twirled across the kitchen floor between the fridge and Brianna’s high chair, setting a small tub of yogurt on the tray with a flourish. Brianna rewarded her performance with a giggle and a clap of her sticky fingers.

“You like that?” Chloe said to her. “You should have seen me dance the solo.” She mimed the dying swan princess, folding her crumpled wings and slithering to the floor where she rested motionless, collapsed. Brianna leaned over the side of her high chair, watching intently to see if her mother would rise again.

Chloe lifted her head and Brianna smiled.

“Ah, Brianna, if only…” Chloe slowly rose to her feet. If only what? Her audience wasn’t a fourteen-month-old child? Her life hadn’t telescoped from opening nights and nationwide appearances to diapers and vacuuming? She loved Brianna and adored the house and Daniel was an angel, but there was no point in denying that her life lacked excitement.

It had been two long months since they’d moved in. Daniel reveled in the wildness and solitude of the ocean and the forest, but Chloe missed people—especially during the work week when her friends were all busy in the city. She still missed walking out of her apartment and strolling down the street to the corner café or going out to a concert in the evening.

She was foraging through the sparse pickings in the fridge for her own lunch when the doorbell rang.

“Who could that be?” She tugged on her tank top to smooth it down and pushed back the wisps that straggled from the twist of hair at the back of her head. Her mother and father always called before they visited, and besides they only came on Sundays.

Chloe hurried down the hall to open the front door. “Oh, my God,” she gasped. “What are you doing here?”

Chapter 4

Evan presented her with a dozen red roses wrapped in gold paper and gave her his trademark brilliant smile. “Is that any way to greet your long-lost love?”

She cradled the blooming flowers in the crook of her arm. Primly, she said, “You’re not my love now.”

He laughed and kissed her quickly on the mouth. A whiff of his aftershave, leather and sandalwood, caught her unaware and transported her back to the past. To a brief but intense history of tumbled beds and Sunday brunch in fine hotels, to violin concertos and kisses in the rain.

Flustered, she backed away. “I’d better put these in water.” Seeing Evan sling his canvas-and-leather satchel down inside the door, she added in alarm, “You can’t stay here.”

“I know that.” His lighthearted Aussie drawl always made it sound to Chloe as if he were on the verge of laughter. “Your lumberjack would chop me up for kindling.”

“Don’t call him that,” Chloe said. “Daniel’s a good man.”

Her heart beating rapidly, she walked briskly back to the kitchen. She could feel Evan’s gaze on her bare legs and his powerful presence in her house. Daniel’s house. Dropping the bouquet in the sink, she faced him. “Didn’t you get my last letter?”

Evan’s light blue eyes burned into hers. “The one where you told me not to write anymore?” A sound from the high chair made him glance past her shoulder. His deeply tanned skin paled. “Is this your daughter?”

“Brianna.” Chloe found a tall, square vase in the cupboard and filled it with water. “She’s—”

“Fourteen months old last week,” Evan said. Chloe stepped aside and he walked toward the little girl who was smearing strawberry yogurt around her tray. “G’day, Brianna,” he said softly. “How’s it going?”

Brianna lifted a round trusting face and displayed her yogurt-covered fingers for his inspection. Evan studied her intently, then turned to Chloe. “She looks just like you.” He paused. “I can’t see anything of me or Daniel in her.”

Chloe busied herself arranging the roses. “Naturally, she’s like Daniel.”

“So you’ve had a DNA test?”

He sounded disappointed. Did he really wish Brianna was his? Fear clutched at Chloe. What if he contested the issue of paternity and sued for custody? Daniel would be devastated and Brianna would be traumatized. “Y-yes, yes, we have,” she faltered, not looking at him. “She’s definitely Daniel’s child.”

Evan tipped up her chin and searched her face. “Liar.”

Chloe blushed and pulled away. “All right, we haven’t, but this is her home and Daniel is her father.”

“Do you really imagine I’d try to take her away from a stable, secure family?” Evan shook his head. “What would I do with a toddler, anyway? A refugee camp is no place for a child. At least not for fortunate kids like Brianna who have a home.”

“Have you finished your stint in Sudan?” Chloe rinsed a cloth in warm water and wiped Brianna’s hands. Relief flooded through her. He wasn’t going to upset the fragile balance she’d finally achieved in her life, in her marriage. Anyway, she wouldn’t let him. “I thought you were there for two years.”

“They let me off a month early for good behavior.” Chloe’s eyebrows rose and he admitted the truth. “I got a recurrence of malaria, a bad bout. I went to Paris to recuperate but the City of Lights isn’t much fun when you’re sick and on your own. So then I decided to head home, stopping on my way to visit my brother in Victoria.”

“How is Jack?” she said.

“I haven’t seen him yet. I came here straight from the airport.” Evan moved closer and stroked his knuckles lightly down her arm. “Did you really not want my letters? Or did the lumberjack force you to put me off?”

“Don’t call him that!” Chloe shivered at Evan’s touch. Unsettled, she slipped sideways out of his reach. “Daniel doesn’t even know about our correspondence. I made the decision to stop writing myself. In fact, I burned all your letters the day we moved here.”

He winced. “That was cruel.”

“You know we can’t continue to have a relationship.” She wrapped her arms around her waist, anchoring her fingers in the waistband of her skirt. “How did you find me at this address?”

“Your husband runs a business out of his house and he’s listed in the Yellow Pages. It didn’t require Sherlock Holmes to track you down.” He glanced around at the warm maple cabinets and the granite countertop. “It’s nice. Daniel’s a good builder, I’ll give him that.”

“I was just going to have some lunch,” she said, softening her tone a little. She went to the cupboard and took out a can of tuna. “Will you join me?”

“Yes, but put away the canned fish.” He brought his satchel into the kitchen and proceeded to pull out a portable feast. “Remember how we used to talk about going to Paris?” he asked Chloe, placing a luscious circle of brie and shrink-wrapped pâté on the counter. “Since we didn’t get there together, I’m bringing Paris to you. Pain de campagne,” he went on, handing her a heavy round loaf. “Olives. Italian, not French, but still…Dried muscatel grapes and—” with a flourish he produced a foil-capped bottle “—real Champagne.”

Chloe burst into delighted laughter. “Evan, you are the limit! But this is just what I needed today.” She got Brianna out of her high chair and set her on the floor with some toys. Then she cleared the newspapers and flyers off the dining table. She started to bring out the everyday plates, then changed her mind and got a stool to reach into the top cupboard for the set of good china her grandmother had given her as a wedding present. Real champagne all the way from France deserved crystal flutes.

“Do you have an ice bucket for the wine?” Evan asked.

“I have a plastic bucket in the laundry room.”

For some reason this struck them both as hilarious. Suddenly a party atmosphere had taken over, as they unwrapped the food and poured the wine together. Conversation and laughter bubbled along with the champagne. Chloe ate ravenously and drank with abandon, as if this might be her last meal. She hadn’t felt so alive in months. Maybe not since Evan left, a tiny voice whispered. She brushed the thought aside and let him refill her champagne glass. His tales of adventure ranged from Sudan to Istanbul to the glittering restaurants and theaters of Paris.

Chloe took in his chiseled features and golden hair. His thin V-necked cashmere sweater looked sophisticated and sexy over designer blue jeans. She watched his long fingers restlessly toy with the cutlery. Fingers that had brought her unparalleled pleasure had also saved lives and comforted the sick.

“What was it like in the refugee camp?” she asked. “It must have been awful.”

Shadows filled his eyes, hinting at never-to-be-forgotten scenes of horror. “It’s like nothing you can imagine. Hell on earth. Patients arrive in a continuous stream, and the suffering is beyond imagining—limbs hacked off, women raped almost to the point of death, mutilated children, disease, starvation…We do what we can, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day, but there’s no respite.

“Horrible as that is, I could cope with it. But it’s what I couldn’t do that tormented me, the hundreds of people I had to turn away because the clinic simply didn’t have the resources to treat them all.” He tilted his glass to his lips, but he’d already drained it dry. “Have you got anything else to drink?”

“I’ll go see.” Chloe got up, staggered a little and laughed. “I’m not used to drinking in the afternoon.” She wagged her finger at him. “You’re a bad influence.”

“Good,” he replied with a wicked grin. “You look as though you could use shaking up.”

“I do not!” she said hotly. “I have a great life. A wonderful husband and a beautiful child.”

Suddenly remembering Brianna, she glanced around the room in a panic. Her heart flooded with relief. The baby was playing quietly with her activity center. Feeling her mother’s gaze on her, Brianna looked over and raised her arms to be picked up.

“There you are, pumpkin,” Chloe cooed, gathering her into her arms. “You’re being such a good girl.”

“Unlike her mother?” Evan drawled.

Chloe ignored that and went to the fridge with Brianna still in her arms. “There’s some Chateau Cardboard,” she said, eyeing a box of white wine wedged between the milk and the orange juice.

“Oh, my, you have come down in the world,” Evan teased. “I suppose it’s better than nothing.”

Chloe felt her cheeks flush. “Or there’s Glenlivet.”

“That sounds better,” Evan said. “A couple fingers of scotch ought to cure what ails me.”

Chloe got down the bottle of expensive whiskey with a feeling of misgiving. This was Daniel’s one luxury: he allowed himself a single drink before dinner on the weekends. Still, she couldn’t let Evan think her marriage had dragged her down—although by comparison to his life her surroundings must seem boring and hopelessly provincial.

She tried to put Brianna back on the floor but the little girl cried, so Chloe put her in her high chair and cut her a hunk of the chewy country bread that Evan had brought. “That’ll give your gums a workout.”

Leaving Brianna to eat, Chloe poured Evan a drink. He got up from the table and came into the kitchen, where she handed it to him.

“Come on, you have to join me.” He grinned. “Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.”

She hesitated for a moment, then with an answering grin and a shrug she sloshed a small amount into another glass. She was just drunk enough not to worry about consequences.

Evan sipped his scotch, leaning against the counter and gazing down at her with an indulgent smile. “How have things been with you? Made lots of friends in this neck of the woods?”

“We don’t have many neighbors yet. The lots haven’t all sold and only one other house has been built so far—that of the man we bought the land from. His wife works, and anyway we don’t have much in common. A fisherman lives down the road, but when he’s not out on his boat he’s in the pub.”

“But you could drive into the city. Visit your old friends?”

“We don’t have a second car,” she explained, adding defensively, “but we will, soon. I’m going to be teaching ballet. I’ve printed up and distributed leaflets.” She stopped herself with a small sigh. “Nothing will happen until school starts in September.”

“A whole month away.” Evan watched her carefully. “Your lumber…Sorry, your husband must be quite something to keep you satisfied out here in the sticks.”

She shrugged unhappily. “He works long hours during the summer, traveling up island and even across to Saltspring Island.”

“Leaving the missus all alone and lonely,” Evan said softly.

“I’m not…” she started, then broke off. She was lonely. But that wasn’t Daniel’s fault. “He has to take every job he can get. Come winter, work will be scarce.” The champagne and the whiskey were making Chloe confused. Did she resent Daniel for having to defend him or Evan for making her see how dull her life was? Daniel had built her this house, but then he’d left her imprisoned like a princess waiting to be rescued.

“Where is he now?” Evan reached out to tuck a tendril of her hair behind Chloe’s ear. “Will he be home soon?”

“He’s in Duncan. He won’t be home for hours.” Chloe held her breath. At the end of the U-shaped kitchen, she didn’t have much room to maneuver. Evan was so close, just a touch away, and so tempting. Gazing into his sky blue eyes, she could easily imagine that she was still in love with him and he with her.

“I’ve missed you, Chloe,” he murmured. “Missed your smile, your touch.” He bent his head, his lips inches from hers. “I’ve been lonely, too.”

Chloe started to strain toward him, then suddenly stopped herself. This was crazy. Her heart beat fast as she backed away, only to find herself hard against the counter. “You’ve been gone two years. You must have had other women.”

“In the camp we were four to a room, with a few fitful hours of sleep a night. Not exactly a romantic setting.”

“In Paris, then.” He was too handsome not to attract women. And what man could resist being pursued?

Right now he was doing the pursuing, edging closer until his hips brushed hers and his hands skimmed her arms.

“Ah, French women—they’re charming and chic.” He captured her hand and kissed the palm. “But we have a connection, Chloe. Our minds work the same way. Our hearts beat as a single unit.” He placed his hand below her left breast. “I can feel your heart beating now, like a small wild bird.”

Chloe licked her parted lips, helpless as that wild bird to stop what was going to happen next. Nor did she want to—she craved Evan’s kiss with a kind of madness. It was all she could think of; the need to feel his mouth on hers, his hands on her body.

She slid her arms around his neck and drew him to her, hungrily tasting his lips, his tongue. So familiar, yet so exotic—a postcard of paradise, remembered and yearned after, finally within reach. The kiss went on and on, erasing her will and replacing it with feverish need. Dimly she heard a clattering, metal on tile, and couldn’t make sense of the sound.

Yet a hole had been torn in the silken sensuality that Evan had wrapped her in. Thoughts of Daniel broke through, flooding her with guilt and regret. What was she doing?

She broke apart and pushed Evan away. “Stop! I can’t do this.”

Afterward, Chloe couldn’t have said what made her glance over at Brianna in her high chair. A mother’s instinct? Guilt, that her daughter should witness her mother betraying her father?

Except that when she did look, Brianna’s eyes were glazed, her face was blue and her mouth wide open in some awful parody of laughter. While Chloe had been kissing Evan, Brianna had been choking on a piece of bread.

Chloe screamed.

Evan reacted instantly, his training overriding his aroused state to thrust Chloe aside and reach for Brianna. He dragged the baby from her high chair and scooped his finger into her mouth. Then turning her over with one hand under her solar plexus, he gave her a sharp rap between the shoulder blades. Nothing happened. “Call 911.”

While Chloe grabbed for the wall phone, he repeated the thump between Brianna’s shoulders, his mind leapfrogging ahead to the possibility of a tracheotomy. Pray God it wouldn’t come to that. He repeated the maneuver a third time, and a chunk of half-eaten bread came shooting out of Brianna’s mouth.

Instead of reviving, however, she lay limp and unresponsive in his arms. He lay her on the counter and loosened her clothes. A finger at her neck found a thin, erratic pulse, but her color was still cyanotic. How long had she been without oxygen while he and Chloe had kissed? Guilt played no part in his calculations; becoming emotional would only impair his ability to treat the child.

He bent to cover Brianna’s mouth and nose with his own mouth and breathed lightly. Counting, one, two, three. Again, one, two, three. And again. Come on, darlin’. Yet even as he calmly proceeded to work at resuscitating her, his thoughts ran wild on a parallel track. Brianna could be his daughter. Why had he thrown away his chance with Chloe? If Brianna lived, he would change; he’d settle down. He would—

Brianna coughed. Her small lungs heaved and shuddered. Her skin began to turn pink. Evan’s vision blurred. Thank God. Thank God.

Gathering up the child, he held her to his chest for a moment, feeling her heart race as she hiccuped and sobbed, then let loose a huge wail that had Chloe reaching for her, clutching her and swaying as she tried to soothe her. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re okay.” She glanced at Evan. “Should I cancel the ambulance?”

“Yes, but we’ll still take her to the hospital.”

“Why?” Chloe asked. “She’s breathing. She’s fine.”

“We don’t know how long she was choking, and even after the obstruction was removed she was unresponsive.” Evan held a finger in front of Brianna’s eyes and slowly moved it from side to side. She followed in one direction, then stopped watching. “You need to have her assessed.”

“Do you mean for brain damage?” Chloe asked, horrified.

He could see her thoughts. A moment’s indiscretion might mean a lifetime handicap for Chloe’s daughter. “It takes six minutes before oxygen deprivation causes brain damage. I think she’s fine, but we need to make certain. Let’s go. The sooner, the better.”

“Neither of us can drive. We’ve been drinking,” Chloe said, shame twisting her features.

“It takes a lot more than that to make me drunk these days,” Evan said dryly. Alcohol had become something of a problem for him; one he was doing his best to ignore.

“I can’t leave this mess. Daniel will know you were here.” She looked around at the bottles and glasses, the dirty plates and scraps of food—evidence of an afternoon of debauchery. Her shoulders sagged. “I’ll have to tell him, anyway. Especially if Brianna is…” Her eyes welled with tears and she shook her head. “Oh, God.”

“Listen to me.” Evan took her by the shoulders. “Brianna choked on a piece of bread, when you weren’t looking. No one watches a fourteen-month-old baby constantly. It could have happened anytime—while you were stirring a pot on the stove or while you were making a sandwich.”

“But it didn’t! It happened when we were—”

He gave her a little shake. “Chloe, I’m telling you this for your sake. For Daniel’s sake. You do not have to tell him you were kissing me. Understand? It would only make things worse.”

Part of him wondered why he was giving her this advice. If Daniel divorced Chloe, he could have her. He’d come here not just to see his brother but also to see her. To find out if he was still attracted, if he was in love, how much he wanted her. A lot, obviously. But was it enough to disrupt all their lives? Enough to marry her? He thought he’d settled the matter once, and then he’d found he couldn’t stay away. He still wasn’t ready to give up his freedom, but what he hadn’t counted on was his gut reaction to Brianna. If she was his daughter, how could he just leave without fighting for her?

He got Chloe and Brianna into his rental car and headed out on the narrow coastal road leading into the city. Chloe called Daniel on her cell phone, her fingers pleating the fabric of her skirt.

“Brianna’s fine, I’m sure she’s fine,” Chloe kept saying. “We’re just getting her checked…” She broke off, eyes scrunching shut as she realized what she’d let slip. After a pause, she added, “Evan. He’s in town to see his brother.” There was a longer pause. “He saved her. Okay, I’ll see you there. Hurry.” She hung up and turned to Evan. “You’ll stay, won’t you, until Daniel gets there?”

“Of course,” Evan said, gripping the steering wheel. Despite the way Chloe had responded to his kiss, she seemed to feel something more than loyalty to her husband. Could she actually love the man? Would she still feel that way if he proved not to be Brianna’s father? Would she stay with Daniel if Evan asked her to leave with him?

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