You can count on me. The words echoed in Diana’s head.

“Cam, I really don’t need help.”

He stared down into her wide eyes. “Yes, you do,” he said firmly. “Di, I know you can do this on your own. But, since the baby’s father isn’t around to help you, I’ll be around—in case something happens or whatever. You don’t have to be alone.”

To her horror, her eyes were filling with tears. She fought them back. Tears were a sign of weakness, and she couldn’t afford to show that side to anyone. But as she fought for control he was kissing her lips, moving slowly, touching gently, giving comfort and affection and a sense of protection that left her defenses crumbling.

She swayed toward him like a reed in the wind. He was so wonderful. How could she resist him? A part of her wanted to do whatever he said, anytime, anywhere. And that was exactly the part she had to fight against.

Dear Reader

Say ‘California’ and most people around the world picture sun-drenched beaches and sun-tanned bodies, along with movie stars and palm trees. But anyone who has been there knows there is a lot more to California than that. Most of the state is actually rural, and the Central Valley is one huge farm. There’s a reason it’s called the Land of Fruits and Nuts—the real kind, not the metaphorical version!

And then there is Gold Country—the area where this story is set, and one of the reasons California is called the Golden State. Gold was discovered at Sutter’s Mill in 1848, and people streamed in from around the world—by covered wagon, by boat, on horseback—to find their fortune in the hills. A few actually got rich, and some established towns and dynasties along Highway 49 that remain today. It’s a beautiful and historic area, far from the coast but just as interesting.

Cameron Van Kirk, the hero of my story, belongs to one of those dynastic families. The heroine, Diana Collins, comes from the opposite extreme—one of the many families who didn’t make it rich. I hope you enjoy reading about how they tackle the family obstacles between them and find their way to a loving future.

Regards

Raye Morgan

Raye Morgan has been a nursery school teacher, a travel agent, a clerk and a business editor, but her best job ever has been writing romances—and fostering romance in her own family at the same time. Current score: two boys married, two more to go. Raye has published over seventy romances, and claims to have many more waiting in the wings. She lives in Southern California, with her husband and whichever son happens to be staying at home at that moment.

Look out for Raye Morgan’s

next Mills & Boon Romance in the New Year

The Italian’s Forgotten Baby

January 2010

KEEPING HER BABY’S SECRET
BY
RAYE MORGAN

MILLS & BOON®

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to the Mother Lode and all the wonderful towns along Highway 49.

CHAPTER ONE

DIANA COLLINS woke with a start and lay very still, her heart beating hard in her chest. She stared into the dark room. She’d heard something. She was sure of it.

It was midsummer and her windows were all open. That was nice for ventilation, but not so wise for safety, even out here in the country. Silently she railed at herself. She’d known she should do something about getting bars on the windows or…

But wait. There it was again. The intruder wasn’t stumbling around in her little turn-of-the-century cottage. He was still outside. He was…singing.

Slowly she lifted her head. She knew that song. She knew that voice.

“Cam,” she whispered, and now a different brand of adrenaline was shooting through her veins. She smiled.

“Cam, you idiot!”

Slipping out of bed, she went to the window and looked down toward the lake. She could just make out a dark figure lounging on the pier. The moonlight glinted on a bottle he was holding as he leaned back to let out a wobbly high note.

“Oh, Cam,” she said despairingly, but she was laughing. It must have been ten years since she’d last seen him. Joy flashed through her as she dashed around the room, searching for a robe to throw over her light night-gown—and to conceal, at least for the moment, her rounded belly.

Everything was going to be…well, not okay, but better. Cam was back.

Cameron Garfield Wellington Van Kirk the third was feeling no pain. There was no denying it—he’d been indulging. And since he almost never had more than a single glass of wine at dinner these days, he’d been affected more quickly and more thoroughly than he’d expected. He wondered, fleetingly, why he seemed to be bobbing in a warm, mellow glow. It was unusual, but rather nice.

“Maybe a little too nice,” he muttered to himself in a Sam Spade accent, trying to look fierce and world-weary at the same time. It didn’t really work. But did that matter when there was no one here to witness it anyway?

Never mind. He was going to sing again. Just one more swig from this nice bottle and he was going to sing that song about Diana.

“‘I’m so young, and you’re…’” he began tunefully, then stopped, frowning. “Wait a minute. I’m older than she is. This song doesn’t make any sense.”

An owl called from across the water, then swooped by, its wings hissing in the air.

He turned and there she was, coming down toward the pier, dressed in lacy white and looking like something ethereal, magic—from another world. He squinted, trying to see her better. He wasn’t used to thinking of her as part angel, part enchantress. The Diana he’d known was a girl who had both feet firmly placed in a particularly earthy sort of reality. At least, that was the way he remembered it.

“Diana?” he whispered loudly. After all, he didn’t want to wake anybody up. “Is that you?”

She came closer and he watched, fascinated, then blinked hard and shook his head. It was his old friend Diana all right but it looked like she was floating. Were her feet even touching the ground? Her cloud of blond hair shimmered around her and the gown billowed in a gust of wind and he felt a catch in his breathing. She was so beautiful. How was it that he’d managed to stay away this long?

“Cam?” she said, her voice as clear as the lake water. “Is that really you?”

He stared at her without answering. “If this is heaven,” he mumbled as he watched her, enchanted and weaving dangerously right next to the water, “it’s more than I deserve.”

“It’s Apache Lake, silly,” she said as she came onto the pier and headed right for him. “Heaven is still to come.”

“For you, maybe,” he muttered, shaking his head as he looked her over.

She might look magical but she was all woman now—no longer the barefoot girl with the ragged cutoffs and the skimpy cropped top and a belly-button ring—and like as not a set of bruises administered by her bully of a father. That was the Diana he’d left behind.

This new Diana was going to take some getting used to. He made no move to give her a hug or a kiss in greeting. Maybe that was because he wanted to with a sudden intensity that set up warning flares. And maybe it was because he’d had too much to drink and didn’t trust himself to keep it simple.

“Some of us are still holding our options open,” he added irrelevantly.

Her answering laugh was no more relevant, but it didn’t matter. She was laughing from the pure joy of seeing him again. She looked up at him, still searching his face as though needing to find bits and pieces of the Cam she remembered. She noted how he was still fighting back the tendency to curl in his almost-black hair. And there were his startlingly blue eyes, crinkling with a hint of laughter. That was still the same. But there was a wary reserve that hadn’t been there before. He was harder now, tougher looking. The sweetness of the boy had been sloughed away and in its place there was a cool, manly sort of strength.

For just a moment, her confidence faltered. He was large and impressive in a way she didn’t recognize. Maybe he’d changed more than she was going to like. Maybe he’d become someone else, a stranger.

Oh, she hoped not, but her heart was in her throat.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey yourself,” she said back softly, her dark eyes luminous in the gloom as she searched for clues in the set of his shoulders, the lines of his face. “What are you doing here?”

He frowned, trying to remember. Everything seemed to have fuzzy edges right now. He’d been on his way home—if you could call the house where his parents and grandfather lived his home. Yeah, that was it. He’d been on his way home, and then, he’d taken a detour….

Suddenly the answer was clear. He’d thought he was just stopping by to say hello to an old friend, putting off the homecoming he had waiting for him at the Van Kirk family mansion on the hill not too far from here. But now he knew there was a flaw in his thinking. There had been another motivation all along. He just hadn’t realized it. He’d come to find the person he’d missed most all these years. And here she was, not quite the same, but good enough.

He looked down at her, needing nothing more than the Diana she was today. He soaked her in as though he’d been lost in the desert and dying of thirst. She promised to be something better and more satisfying than mere alcohol could ever be.

They said you can’t go home again, and maybe that was true. Things could never be the way they’d been before he left. But that was okay. The way Diana had turned out, things might just be better.

“What am I doing here?” he repeated softly, still struggling with blurry thinking. “Looking for you.”

“For me?” She laughed dismissively, looking over his shoulder at the moon. “I think you’re looking for someone who isn’t here anymore.”

“You’ll do,” he said simply.

They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment, their memories and emotions awakening and connecting in a way their words could never quite explain.

“I thought you weren’t ever coming back,” she said at last, and her voice had a catch in it that made her wince. Tears of raw feeling were very near the surface and she couldn’t let them show. But to see him here, standing on her pier, just as he had in those bygone days, sent her heart soaring.

She looked at him, looked at his open shirt and wide belt, his attractively tight jeans and slim hips, the way his short sleeves revealed nicely swelling biceps and she shook her head. He was so like the young man she’d known, and yet so different. The dark hair was shorter and cut more neatly, though it was mussed a bit now and a spray of it still fell over his eyes, just like always. The face was harder, creases where dimples used to be. But the gorgeous eyes were just as brilliantly blue, sparkling like star-fire in the moonlight.

For so long, she’d been afraid his last declaration to her would come true. Even after all these years, the memory of those final words had the capacity to sting deep down in her heart.

“I’m out of here, and I’m never coming back.”

She’d thought her world had melted down that day. And now here he was, back after all. “Naw,” he said carelessly. “I never meant it. Not really.”

She nodded. She accepted that. She’d waited for a long time for him to show up again. She’d been so sure he would, despite what he’d said. But after years, when it didn’t happen, she’d finally started to lose faith.

She remembered when he’d left. She’d been an angry and confused eighteen-yearold, trapped in a broken home, grasping for a reason to thrive. For so long, he’d been her anchor to all that was good in life. And then he’d left and she’d felt adrift in a world without signs or shelter. She’d been so very all alone.

“What I can’t understand is why you’re still here,” he said.

She lifted her chin. “Where did you think I’d be?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. San Francisco maybe. Becoming sophisticated.” He half grinned. “Gettin’ swanky.”

“Swanky?” She laughed. “That’ll be the day.”

As if on cue, he began to softly sing the Buddy Holly song of the same name, still staring soulfully into her eyes.

“You’re drunk,” she accused him, shaking her head as though despairing of him.

He stopped short and grimaced. “No. Impossible.” He stared hard, actually trying to convince her. “You can ask anyone. I don’t drink.”

“Cam!” She looked pointedly at the bottle in his hand.

He looked at it, too, then quickly looked away. “Hey, anyone,” he called out a bit groggily across the lake, forgetting all about keeping it quiet. “Tell her. She needs to hear it from a neutral source.”

She bit her lip, trying not to laugh at the picture he made. “There’s no one out there,” she told him simply.

“Sure there is.” He turned his heavylidded gaze on her. “Look closely, now. Can’t you see them?”

Turning to lean on the railing, she looked out across the lake to the stand of pines and cottonwoods shivering in the breeze. It was so good to be here in the night with Cam, almost as though a missing part of her was back in place, where it should be.

“See who?”

“Us.” He moved closer and spoke very near her ear. “Cam and Di. The boy and girl we used to be. The ghosts are out there.”

She could feel his warm breath on her skin. It made her pulse beat just a little faster and she was enjoying it, for now.

It had been so long.

She’d tried asking about him over the years, first in the village, then at the Van Kirk mansion when she’d been there in connection to her job, and the response she had was minimal. She’d told herself that it looked like he was gone for good, that he’d had some sort of rift with his family that couldn’t be repaired—that he was never coming back. She’d tried to convince herself to forget about him. But his influence on her was embedded in her soul. She couldn’t shake him loose, no matter what.

And at the same time, she’d always known that she could never really have him. But that was a tragic fact of life, something she’d accepted as a given.

She turned and looked at him. “I don’t see anything,” she told him, determined to be the realist to his crazy dreamer. “There’s nobody out there.”

“Sure there is.” He frowned as though it was a puzzle that needed solving. “Maybe you should have some of this,” he said, brandishing the bottle and looked at her hopefully. “Your vision might get better.”

She shook her head, rolling her eyes as she did so. He looked at the bottle, drained it, then frowned, silently reproaching himself. She had a right to hate drinking. She’d certainly suffered enough from the stuff.

“Okay. I’ll get rid of it.” Easy enough for him to say. The bottle was empty now.

“Wait!” She stopped him from sending it sailing out into the water, snatching it from his hand. “Don’t litter in my lake. I’ll put it in the trash can.”

He blinked at her but didn’t protest, leaning back on the railing with his elbows and watching her with the trace of a smile on his handsome face. She tossed the bottle and turned back to him. Her heart lurched at the picture he made in the moonlight, part the man he was now, part the memory of the boy. There had been a time when she would have done anything for him. And now? Hopefully she knew better now.

Looking out across the water again, she pretended to squint and peer into the moonlight. “Wait a minute,” she said, looking hard. “I think I see them now. Two crazy kids stomping around in the mud.”

“That’s them,” he said approvingly, then looked down at her. “Or more accurately, that’s us.”

Us. Yes, they had spent time together on that side of the lake. How could she forget? Some of the best moments of her life had been spent there.

Cam was always fighting with his grandfather in those days. After a particularly bad argument, she would often find him down at the far side of Apache Lake, fishing for rainbow trout. She would sit and watch and he would tell her stories about the valley’s history or his sister’s latest exploit or…sometimes, what he wanted to do with his life. His dreams involved big things far away from gold country. Whenever he talked about them, she felt a sense of sad emptiness inside. She knew she would never be a part of that world.

He always used catch and release, and she would watch regretfully as he threw the shiny, silvery fish back in and they watched it swim away. He didn’t realize that she could have used it for dinner. More often than not, the refrigerator at her house was bare and her father was off somewhere burning through the money that should have gone to food, pouring it down his throat in the form of bargain wine. But she never said a word to Cam. She was too embarrassed to let him know her dinner would be a cheap candy bar that night.

Such things were not a problem any longer. She had a nice little business that kept her comfortable, if not exactly rolling in wealth. These days she was more likely to try to cut down on calories than to need to scrounge for protein.

Times had changed. She’d traded a rough childhood for an adulthood that was a lot nicer. She’d been a damaged person then. She was okay now.

Her hands tightened on the railing and she bit down on her lower lip to keep it from trembling. Who was she trying to kid? A woman who was content with her life didn’t take the steps to change things that she had recently done.

He hadn’t noticed yet. She resisted the urge to pull her robe more carefully over her slightly rounded belly. He was going to have to know the truth some time and it might as well be now.

Well, maybe not now. But very soon.

“Remember the night before I left?” he was saying, his voice low and slightly hoarse. “Remember…?”

He let his voice trail off and she closed her eyes. She remembered all right. She would never forget. It was the one and only time he’d ever kissed her. It wasn’t much of a kiss—not at all the kind of kiss she’d yearned for. His lips had barely touched hers. But she still considered it the best kiss she’d ever had.

She felt him touching her hair and she sighed. If she turned to look at him, would he kiss her again? She tried it, moving slowly, opening her eyes to look up into his face. For just a moment, she thought he might do it. But then a look of regret came into his eyes and he turned from her, moving restlessly.

Her heart sank, but she scolded herself at the same time. What was she thinking? A romance with Cam was not in the cards—never had been.

“So where have you been all this time?” she probed to get her mind on other things.

He shrugged. “Pretty much everywhere. Served a few years in the Navy. Worked on an oilrig in the Gulf. Spent some time as a bodyguard in Thailand. The usual stuff.”

She nodded. This was definitely not the sort of thing his mother would have bragged about. If he’d been at law school on law review, spent time working as an aide to the governor, or made a pile of money on Wall Street, she would have made sure the local paper covered it in minute detail. Cam had always had a tendency to turn away from the upper class path to respect and follow his own route to…what? That had often been a bone of contention between him and his family.

But who was she to complain? It was exactly that inclination that had led him to be her protector for those early years. Their friendship had started when she was in Middle School. Her father was the town drunk and that meant she was the object of vile names and other indignities that adolescent boys seemed compelled to visit upon those weaker than themselves. Cam was a couple of years older. He saw immediately what was going on in her life and he stepped in to make it stop.

That first time had been like magic. She’d gone for a swim at the park pool. None of her friends had shown up and suddenly, she’d been surrounded by a group of boys who had begun to taunt her, circling and snapping at her like a pack of wolves. She knew she could hold her own against one boy, or even two or three, but there were too many this time and she panicked. She tried to run, which only egged them on, and just when she thought she was going to be taken down like a frightened deer, Cam appeared on the scene.

He was only a few years older than the boys, but his sense of strength and authority gave him the upper hand and they scattered as soon as he challenged them. He picked her up, dusted her off and took her for ice cream. And that began a friendship that lasted all through her school years. He was her protector, the force behind the calm, the one who made everything okay.

Even when he’d gone away to university, he’d checked on her whenever he came home. He treated her like a big brother. The only problem was, she’d never been able to completely think of him that way.

No, from the start, she’d had a major crush on him. It hadn’t been easy to hide. And the effects had lingered long after he’d skipped town and left her behind. In fact, she knew very well it was her feelings for him that had ruined every relationship she’d attempted ever since.

“So you’ve pretty much been bumming around the world for ten years?” she asked, frowning as she looked at him again. Whatever he’d been doing, it actually looked to be profitable. Now that she noticed, his clothing was rumpled, but top-of-the-line. And that watch he wore looked like it could be traded in for a down payment on a small house.

“Not really,” he told her. “The first five years, maybe. But then I sort of fell into a pretty lucrative situation.” He shrugged. “I started my own business in San Diego and I’ve done pretty well.”

“Good for you.”

He shrugged again. “I’ve been lucky.”

She knew it was more than that. He was quick, smart, competent. Whatever that business was, he was evidently successful at it.

“And all that time, you never thought a simple phone call might have been in order?” she asked lightly. “A letter, maybe? Just some sign that you were still alive and well?”

She bit her lip again. Was she whining? Better to drop it.

He shook his head. “I figured a clean break was the best way,” he said softly.

She winced. That was exactly what he’d said that night, after he’d kissed her. But she wasn’t going to complain anymore. It wasn’t like he owed her anything. When you came right down to it, he’d done more for her than anyone else ever had. What more could she ask for?

That was a dangerous question and she shied away from it quickly.

“So what brought you back?” she asked. “Are you back for good?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them and she made a face, knowing she had sounded altogether too hopeful.

He looked at her, then at the moon. “Hard to tell at this point,” he muttered. Turning, he looked back toward the little house she lived in. She’d done something to it. Even in the dark, it didn’t look so much like a shack anymore.

“Your old man still around?” he asked.

“He died a few years ago,” she told him. “Complications from pneumonia.”

Complications from being a rotten drunk was what she could have said, he thought bitterly. She was better off without him. But that being said, you didn’t get to choose your relatives and he was her father.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking away.

“Thanks,” she said shortly. “For all the grief he gave me, he did manage to hang onto this little piece of property, so it’s mine now. All five acres of it.”

He nodded, then smiled, happy to think of her having something like this for her own. Whenever he’d thought of her over the years, he’d pictured her here, at the lake. It was so much a part of her.

“I had a funeral for him,” she went on. “At the little chapel on Main. I thought it would just be me and him.” She shook her head, remembering. “Do you know, most of the town came? I couldn’t believe it.” She grinned. “I even had a cousin I’d never met before show up, Ben Lanker. He’s an attorney in Sacramento and he wanted to go over the will for me, to see if all was okay.” She laughed shortly. “I think he was hoping to find a flaw, to see if there was some way he could get his hands on this property. But I’d had everything nailed down clear and legal when I was dating a lawyer in San Francisco, so he was out of luck.”

He laughed along with her, pleased to know she was taking care of herself these days. Looking at her, he couldn’t imagine her being a victim in any way.

“So tell me, Cam,” she said. “The truth this time. I’m still waiting to hear the answer to my question. What brings you back to your ancestral home?”

He sighed. “It’s a fairly easy answer. I’m just embarrassed to tell you.”

That made her laugh again. “Oh, now I have to hear it. Come on. The raw, unvarnished truth. Give it up.” She smiled at him. “What did you come home for?”

Giving her a sheepish look, he grimaced.

“Okay. You asked for it.”

She waited expectantly. He took a deep breath, as though this was really tough to admit.

“I came home to get married.”

CHAPTER TWO

THE smile froze on Diana’s face. She blinked a few times, but she didn’t say anything. Still, it felt as though Cam had shot an arrow through her heart.

It shouldn’t have. She had no right to feel that way. But rights didn’t wait on feelings. She stared at him, numb.

“Married!” she finally managed to say in a voice that was almost normal. “You?”

He coughed discreetly. “Well, that’s not actually technically true.”

She blinked. “Cam!”

One dark eyebrow rose provocatively. “Take it as a metaphor.”

“A metaphor!”

He was driving her crazy. She shook her head. It was too early in the morning for mind games.

“Will you tell me what is really going on?”

He sighed. “Let’s just say my mother has plans. She thinks it’s time I settled down.”

“Really.” Diana took a deep breath. So…was he getting married or wasn’t he? She was completely confused and beginning to get annoyed. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

He looked at her blearily. “What girl?”

She wanted to throw something at him and it took all her strength not to snap back through clenched teeth. “The girl your mother wants you to marry.”

“Oh.” He frowned as though he didn’t see how this mattered. “There’s no specific girl. More like a category of women.” He shrugged and raked fingers through his tousled hair, adding to his slightly bewildered look. “She has a whole roster picked out. She’s ready to toss them at me, one at a time, and I’m supposed to catch one of them in the end.”

Diana took a deep breath. This had been the most maddening conversation she’d had in a long time. The strongest impulse she had right now was to push him into the lake. How dare he come back here this way, raising old emotions, raising old hopeless dreams, and then slapping her back down with vague news of pending nuptials? Was this a joke? Or was he just trying to torture her?

But she knew that wasn’t really it. He didn’t have a clue how she had always felt about him, did he? Well, despite the position it put her in, that was probably a good thing.

Holding all that in as best she could, she looked out at the moonlight on the lake. Funny. Cam had come home and within minutes she had reverted back to being the little raggedy urchin who saw him as her white knight. For years she’d clung to his protection, dreaming that one day, when she was older, he would notice that she wasn’t a little girl anymore, that she’d grown into a woman.

She sighed softly. It had always been a stupid goal, and still was. He was from a different world and only visited hers when it suited him. He wasn’t available, in other words. And even if he were, what she’d done to her own situation alone would rule out any hopes she might have. She should know better by now. A little toughness of her own was in order. No more shabby girl with her nose pressed to the windowpane.

She tilted her head to the side, a bemused look on her face as she worked on developing a bit of inner strength.

“Let me get this straight,” she challenged. “You came back because your mother wanted you to?”

He blinked at her groggily. “Sort of,” he admitted.

She shook her head, eyes flashing. “Who are you and what have you done with the real Cam Van Kirk?” she demanded.

“You don’t buy it, huh?” He looked at her, trying to be earnest but too groggy to manage it well. The swath of dark hair that had fallen down over his eyes wasn’t helping. He was looking more vulnerable than she’d ever imagined he could look.

“Actually,” he murmured, “neither do I.”

“What does that mean?”

“Come on, Di, you know how it is. You grow up. You begin to realize what is really important in life. And you do things you never thought you would.”

Sure, she knew how it was. But she couldn’t quite believe it. Not Cam. Not the young rebel she’d idolized for so many years.

“What happened to you, Cam?” she asked softly, searching his face.

He moved toward her, his hand reaching in to slide along her chin and cup her cheek. She pulled back, looking surprised at his touch and pushing his hand away.

And as she did so, she forgot to hold her robe closed and it fell open. Her rounded belly was obvious.

“Whoa,” he said, jerking back and staring at it, then looking up at her face. He shook his head as though trying to clear it so that he could deal with this new development. “What happened to you?”

“It’s not that big a mystery,” she said quickly, pulling the robe back. “It happens a lot, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

He stared at her for a moment, his brow furled, and moved a bit further away, purposefully keeping his eyes averted from her midsection.

“Did you go and get married or something?” he muttered uncomfortably.

She looked away and he frowned. The downside of that possibility was suddenly clear to him. He didn’t want her to be married. Given a choice, he would rather she wasn’t pregnant, either. But that was clearly settled and he could have no influence on it. But the married part—no, if she were married he was going to have to leave pretty quickly and probably not come back.

Why hadn’t he considered this possibility? Somehow it had seemed natural to find her here, just where he’d left her. But of course things had changed. It had been ten years, after all.

“No, Cam,” she said calmly. She pulled the robe in closer and looked out at the lake. “I’m not married.”

Was he supposed to feel relief at that? Probably not. It was pretty selfish of him. But he couldn’t help it. Still, it left a few problems behind. There had to be a man involved in this situation. Cam blinked hard and tried to act sober.

“Who’s the daddy? Anyone I know?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

He shrugged. “Your call. So I guess you’re doing this on your own, huh? Are you ready for that?”

She gave him a quick, fleeting smile. “I’m fine, Cam. I can handle this.”

Something stirred inside him. Was it admiration? Or regret? He was a bit too groggy to tell. But the Diana he’d left behind had seemed to need him in so many ways. This one, not so much. That was probably a good thing. Wasn’t it? If only he could think clearly, he might even be able to tell.

“Well, you know, if you need any help…” he began.

She turned on him, ready to be defensively self-reliant, and that was when she saw what looked like blood. It was trickling down out of his dark hair, making a rivulet in front of his ear. She gasped, then looked more closely, detecting a lot more that had started to dry against the collar of his shirt.

“Cam! What’s this?” She touched it and showed him.

“Oh, just a little blood.” He pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at it.

“Blood!”

He gave her a melancholy smile. “I had a little accident. Just a little one.”

She stared. “With your car?”

He nodded. “The car wouldn’t go where I tried to get it to go. I kept pulling on the wheel and saying, ‘Come on, car, we’ve got to get to the Van Kirk mansion,’ and the stupid car kept saying, ‘You know you’d rather go see Diana.’” He looked at her with mock earnestness. “So we crashed.” He waved toward the woods. “We smashed right into a tree.”

“Cam!”

“Just a little one. But I hit my head pretty hard. Didn’t you hear it?”

She stared at him, shaking her head. “Oh, Cam.”

“It wasn’t very far away.” He frowned. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear it.”

“I was asleep.”

“Oh.” He sighed and stretched out his arms, yawning. “Sleep, huh? I used to do that.”

She noticed the dark circles under his eyes. For all his handsome features, he did look tired. “Maybe you shouldn’t drink when you drive,” she pointed out sharply.

“I didn’t.” He shook his head. “The drinking came later.”

“Oh.”

He shrugged. “Just a bottle I found in the trunk after the crash. I brought it along to tide me over while I waited on your pier for the sun to come up.” He looked forlorn. “I was planning to invite myself for breakfast.”

How did he manage to look so darn lovable in this ridiculous state?

“It’s still a little early for breakfast.” She sighed, then reached out and took his hand. “Come on.”

“Okay,” he said, and started off with her. “Where are we going?”

“Where else would the prodigal son go? I’m going to take you home.”

The drive up to the Van Kirk mansion was steep and winding. Diana had made it often over the last few years in her little business van. Alice Van Kirk, Cam’s mother, had been one of the first people to hire her fledgling floral styling company to provide fresh arrangements for the house once a week back when she’d originally started it.

The sky had begun to lighten, but true dawn lurked at least a half hour away. Still, there was enough light to let her see the turrets and spirals of the Van Kirk mansion ahead, reaching up over the tops of the eucalyptus trees, shrouded in the wisps of morning fog. As a child, she’d thought of the house as an enchanted castle where royalty lived high above the mundane lives of the valley people, and it looked very much like that now.

“Are they expecting you today?” she asked.

When she didn’t get an answer, she glanced at Cam in the passenger’s seat. He was drifting off to sleep.

“Hey!” She poked at him with her elbow. “I don’t think you should let yourself sleep until you see a doctor. You might have a concussion or something.”

“Hmm?” he responded, looking at her through mere slits where alert eyes should be.

“Cam, don’t fall asleep,” she ordered.

“Okay,” he said, and his eyes immediately closed all the way.

“Oh!” she said, exasperated and poking him with her elbow again. “Here we are. Which door do you want?” She grimaced. “I don’t suppose you have a key, though, do you?”

He didn’t answer and his body looked as relaxed as a rag doll. With a sigh, she pulled into the back entrance, using the route she was used to. The servants’ entrance she supposed they probably called it. The tradesmen’s gate? Whatever, it was just off the kitchen and gave handy access to the parts of the house where she brought flower arrangements once a week. She rarely ran into any of the Van Kirks when she came. She usually dealt with Rosa Munez, the housekeeper. Rosa was a conscientious employee, but she doubted the woman would be up this early.

“How am I going to get you in there?” she asked, shaking her head as she gazed at the dark house. Turning, she reached out and pushed his dark hair back off his forehead. His face was so handsome, his features so classically perfect. For just a moment, she ached, longing to find a place in his arms. But she couldn’t do that. She had to be tough.

“Cam,” she said firmly, shaking his shoulder. “Come on, wake up.”

“Okay,” he murmured, but his eyes didn’t open.

This made things a bit awkward.

Slipping out of the car, she went to the door and looked at the brass handle, loath to try it. She knew it would be locked, and she assumed there was a security system on the house. Everyone was obviously still asleep. What the heck was she going to do?

Stepping back, she looked up at the windows, wondering if she could climb up and get in that way, then picturing the embarrassment as she hung from a drainpipe, nightgown billowing in the breeze, while alarm bells went off all through the house. Not a good bet.

Turning, she went back to the car and slid into the driver’s seat.

“Cam, I don’t know what we’re going to do,” she said.

He was sound asleep and didn’t even bother to twitch. She sighed with resignation. She was going to have to wake up the whole house, wasn’t she? Now she regretted having come without changing into day clothes. But she hadn’t been sure she could keep Cam in one place if she left him to go change, and she’d thought she would just drop him at his doorway and make a run for home. She should have known nothing was ever that easy.

“Okay. If I’ve got to do it, I might as well get it over with,” she said, leaving the car again and going back to the door. Her finger was hovering half an inch from the doorbell and she was bracing for the sound explosion she was about to unleash on the unsuspecting occupants, when the door suddenly opened and she found herself face-to-face with Cam’s sister, Janey.

“Diana? What in the world are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Janey!” Diana was immediately aware of how odd she must look standing on the Van Kirk doorstep in her filmy nightgown and fluffy white robe. The shabby slippers didn’t help, either.

Janey, on the other hand, looked trendy and stylish in high end jogging togs. A tall, pretty woman about a year younger than Diana, she was evidently up for an early morning run and determined to look chic about it. Diana couldn’t help but have a quick catty thought wondering which of the local squirrels and chipmunks she might be trying to impress. But she pushed that aside and felt nothing but relief to have a member of the family appear at the door.

She and Cam’s sister had known each other forever but had never been friends. Janey had been aware of the close ties between Diana and her brother, and she’d made it very clear in very public ways that she didn’t approve. But that was years ago. When they saw each other now, they weren’t exactly warm, but they were perfectly civil.

“Janey,” Diana said, sighing with relief. “I’ve got Cam in the car. He was in an accident.”

“What?”

“Not too bad,” she reassured her quickly. “He seems to be basically okay, but I think a doctor ought to look him over. And…well…” She winced. “He’s been drinking so…”

“You’re kidding.” Janey followed her to the car and then they were both fussing over her brother.

“Cam, you blockhead, wake up,” Janey ordered, shaking his shoulder. “We haven’t seen you in years and this is the way you arrive?”

He opened one eye. “Janey? I thought I recognized your dulcet tones.”

She shook her head. “Come on. I’ll help you up to your room. I’m sure Mother will want to call Dr. Timmer.”

“I don’t need Dr. Timmer,” he grumbled, though he did begin to leverage himself out of the car. “If Diana can take care of herself, I can take care of myself.” He tried to pound his own chest and missed. “We’re a pair of independents, Diana and I.”

Janey gave him her arm and a quizzical look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said crisply. “Come on. We’ll let your friend get back to her…whatever.”

“Diana is my best friend,” he murmured, sounding almost melancholy. “My favorite person in this valley. Always has been.”

Janey chose that moment to notice Diana’s baby bulge. Stopping short, she gasped. “Cam! Oh, no!”

Despite his condition, he immediately recognized the way her mind was trending and he groaned. “Listen, Janey, I just got into town at about 2:00 a.m. Not even I could get a lady with child that fast.”

“Humph,” she harrumphed, throwing Diana a look that took in everything about her pregnancy and the fact that she was running around the countryside in her nightgown, delivering a rather inebriated Cam to his old homestead. It was obvious all this looked pretty darn fishy to her.

Diana almost laughed aloud. If Janey only knew the irony involved here. “Can you handle him without me?” she asked the other woman. “I’d like to get home and try to get some sleep. I do have an appointment back here with your mother at eleven.”

“Go, go,” Janey said, waving a hand dismissively and turning away.

But Cam didn’t turn with her. He stayed where he was, looking back at Diana. “I was just getting used to having you around again, Di,” he said. “A little later, when I’ve had some sleep…”

“You’ll be busy getting caught up on all the family news,” Janey said quickly. “And learning to give up living like a drifter.”

“Like a drifter?” Cam looked up as though that reminded him of something and Diana laughed.

“Watch out, or he’ll break out into song on you,” she warned his sister as she turned for her car. As she walked away, she heard the Cam’s voice warbling, “‘Here I go again…’” She grinned.

Cam was back. What did this mean? Right now, it meant she was full of sadness and happiness at the same time.

“The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat,” she murmured nonsensically as she began the drive down the hill. A moment later, tears were streaming down her face and she had no idea why.

But Cam was back. Good or bad, things were going to change. She could feel it in the air.

CHAPTER THREE

CAM woke to a pounding headache and a bunch of bad memories. It didn’t help to open his bleary eyes and find the view the same as it had been when he was in high school. That made him want to close the world out and go back to sleep again. Maybe he would wake up in a better place.

No such luck. He opened his eyes again a few minutes later and nothing had changed. He was still a wimp for having let himself be talked into coming back here. Still an unfit driver for having crashed his car just because of a freak tire blowout. Still an idiot for having had too much to drink and letting it show.

And still bummed at finding Diana more appealing than ever and at the same time, totally unavailable. Life wasn’t exactly glowing with happy discovery for him right now.

Then there had been the humiliating way he’d returned to the green green grass of home. His mother had tried to pretend he was fine and gave him the usual hugs and kisses a mother would bestow upon a returning miscreant. But, his father barely acknowledged his return. And Janey was plotting ways to undermine him and making no bones about it. He groaned. The outlook wasn’t bright.

There was one more gauntlet to brave—the most important one right now—his grandfather. There was no point in putting it off any longer.

He made the water in his shower as cold and stinging as he could stand. He needed to wash away the previous day and start over. Maybe if he could just start fresh…

But he already knew it was going to take all his will to be able to stay and do what he’d promised he would do—save the family business, and in so doing, hopefully, save the family.

Funny that it would be up to him. When he’d left ten years before, his grandfather had just disowned him and his father had refused to take his side. His mother was upset about his choice of friends, and his sister was angling to take over his position in the family. To some extent, a somewhat typical twenty-one-year-old experience. But it had all been a culmination of years of unhappiness and bad relations, and something had snapped inside him. He’d had enough. He was going and he was never coming back.

Leaving Diana behind had been the only hard part. At eighteen, she’d still been gawky, a coltlike girl whose antics made him laugh with quick affection. She thought she needed him, though he knew very well she was strong enough to handle things on her own. She was fun and interesting and she was also the only person who seemed to understand what he was talking about most of the time.

But that was then. Things were different now. Diana had proven she could make it on her own, no problem. She’d done just fine without him. And she now belonged to somebody else. She could deny it, but the facts were right there, front and center. She was pregnant. That meant there was a man in her life. Even if he was out of the picture for the moment, he was there. How could it be any other way?

And all that was just as well, actually. Without that complication, he knew he could have easily fallen in love with her. He’d known that from the moment he saw her coming down to the lake, looking like an angel. He responded to her in a way he never did with other women, a combination of past experiences and current attraction. Yes, he could fall hard. And falling in love was something he was determined never to do again.

For just a moment he thought about Gina, the woman he’d lived with for two years and had almost married. But thoughts of Gina only brought pain, so he shrugged them away.

He needed to focus on the purpose of his return. He needed to get ready to face his grandfather.

Diana parked in the same spot she’d used earlier that morning. This time there was a buzz of activity all around the compound. Workmen were putting new doors on the multiple garages and a painter was freshening up the long white fence that edged the driveway. Across the patio, two men were digging postholes for what looked to be a new barbecue center. With all this action, she could see she wasn’t going to need to contemplate a break-in this time. Sighing with satisfaction, she slid out of the car and made her way to the back entrance.

She’d traded in her nightgown for a sleek pantsuit she’d picked up in Carmel a few months before. Luckily she could still fit into it. She’d chosen it out of her closet specifically to rival anything Janey might be wearing. It had a high collar and a loose jacket that hid her belly and she knew she looked pretty good in it—always a confidence booster.

The back door was propped open and she went on into the huge kitchen, where Rosa, elbow deep in flour, waved at her from across the room.

“Mrs. Van Kirk is out in the rose garden,” she called. “She asked that you meet her out there to go over some new plans.”

“Fine.” She waved back at the cheery woman and headed into the house. She’d been here often enough lately to know her way around. This place that had seemed so special to her as a child, and then so scary when she was friends with Cam but never invited in, was now a part of her workspace.

Walking down the long hall, gleaming with Brazilian cherry hardwood, she glanced into the library, and then the parlor, to check on the large arrangements she’d brought just a few days before. Both looked pretty good. Ever since she’d stressed to Rosa that the stems could use a trim and fresh water every few days, her masterpieces were holding up better than they had before.

The Van Kirk mansion was beautiful in a way few houses could be. The quality of the original materials and workmanship shone through. The rich past and full history just added luster. It made her happy and proud just to be here, walking its beautiful halls.

As she rounded the stairwell to head into the dining room and out the French doors, Cam surprised her by arriving down the stairs and stopping right in front of her.

“Good morning, Miss Collins,” he said smoothly. “You’re back.”

She cocked her head to the side and looked him over, fighting hard to suppress her reaction as her heart began a frantic dance in her chest. Here he was. It was really true. She hadn’t dreamed what had happened the night before. Cam was back in her life, just when she’d thought it could never be.

He looked so good. Morning sunlight was even more flattering to his handsome face than starlight had been. Dressed in khakis and a blue polo shirt that matched his eyes, he looked hard and muscular as an athlete but gentle as a lover at the same time.

The perfect man—hadn’t that always been the problem? She’d never found anyone better. It made her half-angry, half-thrilled, and practically hopeless. Now that he was back, what was going to happen to her peace of mind?

One casual meeting and she was already straying into thoughts she’d vowed to stay away from. A simple look into that silverblue gaze and her breath was harder to find and she was thinking moonlight and satin sheets and violins on the terrace. Given half a chance, she would be sliding into his arms, raising her lips for kisses….

No! She couldn’t let that happen.

Very quickly, so quickly she hoped he didn’t even notice, she pulled herself up short and forced a refocus. Cam was a friend and that was all he could ever be.

So think friend, she ordered herself. Lover thoughts are not allowed.

“Yes,” she agreed, putting steel in her spine. “I’m…I’m back.”

His gaze swept over her. “You’re looking particularly lovely today,” he noted, a slight smile softening the corners of his wide mouth.

The corners of her own mouth quirked. “As opposed to what I looked like yesterday, after midnight?” she said, half teasing.

His grin was crooked. “Oh, no. After midnight you looked even better. Only…”

“Did you see a doctor last night?” she broke in quickly, eager to forestall any flirting he might have in mind. They had to keep their relationship on a certain level and she was bound and determined she would be the watchdog of that if he wouldn’t be.

“I guess so.” He shrugged. “I was pretty much out of it.”

“Yes, you were.”

Looking chagrined, he put his hand over his heart and gazed earnestly into her eyes. “I don’t drink, you know. Not really. Hardly ever.”

If she wasn’t careful, he was going to make her laugh, and that was almost as dangerous as making her swoon.

“So you said.”

“And it’s true. If I’d found a box of crackers in the trunk of the car instead of a bottle of booze, I’d have been all crumbs last night, instead of the sauced serenader I devolved into.”

She choked and his eyes sparkled with amusement at his own joke.

“But I do want to apologize. I was rude last night. I took over your lake and ruined your sleep and generally made myself into a damned nuisance.”

He meant it. He was really apologizing. She met his gaze in solemn candor. “You did.”

“And I’m sorry.” His blue eyes were filled with tragic regret.

She laughed softly, shaking her head. She’d missed him, missed his candor, missed his teasing and missed what often actually seemed to be his sincere sensitivity to what she was feeling. But she had to admit, that sensitivity could sometimes slosh over into a subtle mockery and she was afraid he might be working his way in that general direction right now.

Still, they were friends, weren’t they? She was allowed to act like a friend, at least.

“I’m not,” she said firmly. “I’m not a bit sorry.” She smiled up into his face. “Despite everything, it is good to have you back in the neighborhood.”

“‘Despite everything,’ you say.” He looked skeptical. “Seriously?”

Her smile deepened. “Of course.”

The warmth between them began to sizzle and she knew it was time to pull back. But it felt like resisting quicksand to do it. If only she could allow herself this small island of pleasure. Soon enough she would leave and hopefully wall off any further contact with Cam, except the most casual and occasional kind. Would it really ruin everything to let herself enjoy him, just for this warm spring morning?

Yes. He was looking at her mouth and it sent shivers all through her. She couldn’t risk even a tiny moment or two of weakness. Determined, she pulled away.

“I drove by to look at your car this morning,” she said over her shoulder as she started to walk toward the French doors that opened onto the gardens.

“How’s it doing?” he asked, walking with her.

She glanced at him sideways. “You didn’t tell me you’d had a tire blow out.”

“Didn’t I?”

“No.” She stopped in the doorway, turning to face him again. “It’s too bad. I sort of liked your story about fighting the wheel in order to get to my place.”

He snapped his fingers. “That was exactly what I was doing when the blowout occurred.”

She grinned. “Right.”

Mrs. Van Kirk, wearing a wide-brimmed sun hat and carrying a basket filled with cut flowers, was out among her prized rosebushes and as she turned, she spotted the two of them and began to wave. “Yoo-hoo! My dear, I’m over here.”

Diana lifted her hand to wave back and said out of the corner of her mouth, “Who’s she talking to, you or me?”

He stood beside her in the doorway, looking out. “I’d say it’s a toss-up.”

She glanced at him. “She’s your mother.”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he looked out at where she stood, waving at them. “Sometimes I wonder,” he muttered.

Diana didn’t wonder. In fact, she didn’t have a doubt. Cam looked so much like his mother, it was cute—or frightening, depending on how you looked at it.

“Well, I’m going to go to her,” Diana said, turning to leave.

He hung back. “I’m not coming with you. I’ve got a command audience with my grandfather.”

“Oh, no.” Stopping, she looked back at him. “Is this the first you’ve seen him since you came back?”

He nodded, a faraway look in his eyes. “This should be interesting.”

To say the least. Diana winced, remembering all those old, painful arguments with the old man when he was younger. She could see by the look on his face that he wasn’t as optimistic about the coming meeting as he might pretend.

“I’m surprised you’re not taking in a bodyguard,” she said lightly, only half joking. “I remember those sessions you used to have with him.” Her eyes widened as she recalled some especially wild fights they’d had and she shuddered. “He put you through the wringer.”

Cam nodded and he didn’t smile. “That he did.” His gaze skimmed over her face. “You want to come with me?”

She reared back. “Not on your life. When I was suggesting a bodyguard, I was thinking more along the lines of one of those burly fellows digging posts for the new barbecue center out back.”

He laughed. “I think I can handle my grandfather,” he said. “I’m older now. Wiser.” He cocked an eyebrow. “More agile.”

Diana shook her head, suppressing a grin. “And besides,” she reminded him. “From what I hear, he’s often bedridden. I guess that would give you an advantage.”

He laughed again. “Exactly.”

Word was that his grandfather was in rapidly failing health. With Cam’s father spending most of his time at spa resorts that specialized in “rest cures” and his sister reportedly caught up in playing musical husbands, that left Cam to support his mother and help make some decisions. She was beginning to realize that those circumstances were probably part of the reason he’d agreed to come back home.

“I’ll come out and join you if I survive.”

“Okay.” She winced as she started out through the rosebushes. She shouldn’t be encouraging any of this “joining” or chatting or anything else with Cam. Her goal coming in had been to have the meeting with Mrs. Van Kirk and then get out of here as quickly as possible. It was becoming more and more clear that staying away from Cam had to be her first priority.

The older woman came toward her, smiling.

“Oh, my dear, I’m so glad to see you. Thank you so much for coming by. Come sit with me in the garden and Rosa will bring us some nice tea.”

Diana smiled back and followed her to the little gazebo at the far side of the flower garden. Her relationship with Cam’s mother had undergone a complete transformation in the last few years. When she was a teenager, she knew very well the woman had considered her a guttersnipe who would contaminate her son if she didn’t keep a constant vigil. The one time Cam had tried to bring her into the house, Mrs. Van Kirk had practically barred the door with her own plump body.

Years later, after Cam was long gone and Diana had started her flower business, the woman had hired her periodically, acting rather suspicious at first, but warming to her little by little as the quality of her work became apparent. By now, her affection for the girl she used to scorn was amazingly obvious to everyone—and sometimes resented by Janey.

But Diana was comfortable meeting with her, and she settled into a chair across from her in the gazebo, thinking once again how similar some of her features were to Cam’s. She’d been a beautiful woman and was still very attractive in a plush sort of way. Her hair was auburn where Cam’s was almost black, and her look was soft rather than hard, but she had the same blue eyes and sweet smile he did.

“I want to tell you how much I appreciate you bringing my son home last night after that terrible accident,” Mrs. Van Kirk began. “He was certainly out of sorts for a while, but Dr. Timmer assures us there will be no lasting injuries. He was so fortunate it happened so close to your place.” Her gaze sharpened and she frowned. “How exactly did you know the accident had happened?”

“Just lucky I guess,” Diana said breezily. This was not the time to go into reasons why Cam felt at home enough on her property to use it as a refuge. “I was glad to be able to help.”

“Yes,” she said, gazing at Diana as though seeing her with new eyes. “Well, anyway, we’ll have tea.” She signaled toward the kitchen, where Rosa had appeared at the door. The housekeeper waved that she understood, and Mrs. Van Kirk turned back to the subject at hand.

“Now, I want you to take a look at my new roses.” She pointed out a pair of new English heirlooms. “What do you think of them?”

“Oh, they’re lovely. That soft violet color is just brilliant.”

She looked pleased. “Yes, I’ve hired a new rose expert to come in twice a week and advise me. I want to make sure I’m getting the right nutrients to my little babies. He’s very expensive but I’m so pleased with his work.” She looked up. “Perhaps you know him. Andre Degregor?”

Diana nodded. “Yes, he’s quite good.” And an internationally recognized rose expert. “Expensive” was probably putting it mildly.

“You seem to be doing a lot of work on the estate,” she noted, giving the older woman an opening to get the conversation back on track.

“Yes.” She settled down in her seat and gave Diana a significant smile. “And that’s why I wanted to see you. I’m going to begin a major project. And I want you to take a primary role in the preparations.”

“A project?” she echoed brightly. What type of project would involve a flower stylist? She was beginning to feel a faint thread of trepidation about this. “What sort of project?”

“It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a long time.” Her eyes were shining with excitement. “I’m planning a whole series of various social gatherings—teas, dinner parties, barbecues, card parties—all culminating in a major ball at the end of next month.”

“Oh my,” Diana said faintly.

“On top of that, we’ll be hosting quite a few guests between functions. I’ve hired a wonderful caterer from San Francisco—for the whole month!” She laughed with delight at the thought. “And I want to hire you for the decorating. If all goes as planned, this will be quite an undertaking.”

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