Isabella Trueblood made history reuniting people torn apart by war and an epidemic. Now, generations later, Lily and Dylan Garrett carry on her work with their agency, Finders Keepers. Circumstances may have changed, but the goal remains the same.

Lost

The joy of motherhood. Skylar Diamond was a successful fashion designer now, but the regret she harbored at the long-ago decision to give up her baby haunted her still.

Found

A grown-up daughter and an overprotective father. Sheriff Noah Beaufort didn’t appreciate a high-society type nosing around his town, watching his daughter, Lauren. Then Lauren took a fancy to the woman, and in spite of himself, so did Noah. But he was too good a lawman to trust her motives. Something was definitely suspicious....

“Come in, if you dare.”

Ashley peeked around the edge of the door. “I can come back later if this is a bad time.”

“Don’t even think about it.” Kyle walked out of the kitchen, a glass of water in one hand, Casey riding the opposite hip. He was barefoot, unshaven, dressed in a stained T-shirt and a pair of gym shorts adorned with fuzz from Casey’s new baby blanket. But Casey was smiling at him and clenching her fingers about his nose. He pried her fingers loose and tickled her tummy. She laughed out loud and then poked a thumb into her mouth and rested her head on Kyle’s shoulder.

Something tightened in Ashley’s chest and she found it difficult to breathe. “I know I look like something Mikasa dragged in from beneath the stairwell,” he said, “but you don’t have to stare at me like that.”

She kept staring, mesmerized. She’d never seen him look worse. She’d never wanted a man more. The feeling scared her to death. She took a step backward.

“Do I look that bad?”

“No, you look—fine.”

“Now you’re lying for sure. But lie all you want. Just don’t leave, unless you want to hear a grown man cry.”

Dear Reader,

I was thrilled when I was invited to be part of the Trueblood, Texas continuity project, and it turned out to be as much fun as I expected. Not only did I team up with some great writers, but I got to help create the wonderful Garrett family. They reminded me so much of some of the warm and close-knit Texas families I know. It was easy for me to understand how growing up as a Garrett would have a profound effect on forming my heroine’s character. I loved watching Ashley Garrett unfold and change as she interacted not only with her family, but with her sexy but complex neighbor and the precious, abandoned baby girl. By the time the story concluded, they had all walked off the pages and into my heart. I hope the characters in Surprise Package touch you as they did me.

I love to hear from readers. You can contact me through my website, joannawayne.com.

Joanna Wayne

Surprise Package
Joanna Wayne

www.millsandboon.co.uk

THE TRUEBLOOD LEGACY

THE YEAR WAS 1918, and the Great War in Europe still raged, but Esau Porter was heading home to Texas.

The young sergeant arrived at his parents’ ranch northwest of San Antonio on a Sunday night, only the celebration didn’t go off as planned. Most of the townsfolk of Carmelita had come out to welcome Esau home, but when they saw the sorry condition of the boy, they gave their respects quickly and left.

The fever got so bad so fast that Mrs. Porter hardly knew what to do. By Monday night, before the doctor from San Antonio made it into town, Esau was dead.

The Porter family grieved. How could their son have survived the German peril, only to burn up and die in his own bed? It wasn’t much of a surprise when Mrs. Porter took to her bed on Wednesday. But it was a hell of a shock when half the residents of Carmelita came down with the horrible illness. House after house was hit by death, and all the townspeople could do was pray for salvation.

None came. By the end of the year, over one hundred souls had perished. The influenza virus took those in the prime of life, leaving behind an unprece-dented number of orphans. And the virus knew no boundaries. By the time the threat had passed, more than thirty-seven million people had succumbed worldwide.

But in one house, there was still hope.

Isabella Trueblood had come to Carmelita in the late 1800s with her father, blacksmith Saul Trueblood, and her mother, Teresa Collier Trueblood. The family had traveled from Indiana, leaving their Quaker roots behind.

Young Isabella grew up to be an intelligent woman who had a gift for healing and storytelling. Her dreams centered on the boy next door, Foster Carter, the son of Chester and Grace.

Just before the bad times came in 1918, Foster asked Isabella to be his wife, and the future of the Carter spread was secured. It was a happy union, and the future looked bright for the young couple.

Two years later, not one of their relatives was alive. How the young couple had survived was a miracle. And during the epidemic, Isabella and Foster had taken in more than twenty-two orphaned children from all over the county. They fed them, clothed them, taught them as if they were blood kin.

Then Isabella became pregnant, but there were complications. Love for her handsome son, Josiah, born in 1920, wasn’t enough to stop her from grow-ing weaker by the day. Knowing she couldn’t leave her husband to tend to all the children if she died, she set out to find families for each one of her orphaned charges.

And so the Trueblood Foundation was born. Named in memory of Isabella’s parents, it would become famous all over Texas. Some of the orphaned children went to strangers, but many were reunited with their

families. After reading notices in newspapers and church bulletins, aunts, uncles, cousins and grand-parents rushed to Carmelita to find the young ones they’d given up for dead.

Toward the end of Isabella’s life, she’d brought together more than thirty families, and not just her orphans. Many others, old and young, made their way to her doorstep, and Isabella turned no one away.

At her death, the town’s name was changed to Trueblood, in her honor. For years to come, her simple grave was adorned with flowers on the anniversary of her death, grateful tokens of appreciation from the families she had brought together.

Isabella’s son, Josiah, grew into a fine rancher and married Rebecca Montgomery in 1938. They had a daughter, Elizabeth Trueblood Carter, in 1940. Elizabeth married her neighbor William Garrett in 1965, and gave birth to twins Lily and Dylan in 1971, and daughter Ashley a few years later. Home was the Double G ranch, about ten miles from Trueblood proper, and the Garrett children grew up listening to stories of their famous great-grandmother, Isabella. Because they were Truebloods, they knew that they, too, had a sacred duty to carry on the tradition passed down to them: finding lost souls and reuniting loved ones.

Joanna Wayne is acknowledged as the author of this work.

I’d like to give special acknowledgment to Rick Redmann for his valuable input on the business of advertising. I’d also like to thank Emilie Richards, who taught the creative writing class that got me started writing romance suspense and remains a wonderful friend. And to Wayne, always.

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER ONE

COWBOYS. Ranchers. Cattle. Beef.

Ashley Garrett typed in the words, Times New Roman font, eighteen point, and ran them across the page in the shape of a galloping horse.

Her mission was to put them all together and come up with an ad campaign and a slogan that was so terrific it would be on the lips and in the minds of every Texas citizen. In the process, she would put her name on the map—along with the Texas Ranchers Association, of course.

This was her biggest account to date, a chance to leap a few rungs up the advertising success ladder and put her one step closer to some swanky office on Manhattan’s famed Madison Avenue. Let other women marry and cook pot roasts. She’d influence what their kids wore, the kind of car they drove and where they’d buy their groceries.

But for now, it was sell the Texas Ranchers Association. Sell beef. Sell an image. The task had seemed so easy when Mr. Clintock of Clintock, Mitchum and O’Connell had offered her the plum account. Four days later, she was drowning in insipid, languishing in schmaltz, when what she needed was a spark of genius. Of course, she’d let the Creative Department guys in on the fun eventually, but she wanted to be the mind behind the idea, not just a facilitator.

Stretching her fingers and placing them back on her trusty keyboard, she prepared herself for another go at releasing a rush of ingenious juices. When in doubt, start with a cowboy. They were sexy, virile, rugged, totally masculine. Except for the ones who were dirty, sweaty and smelled of cattle droppings.

“Wrong mind-set, Ashley Garrett.”

Talking to herself again—a sure sign she’d been punching keys and staring at the screen on her computer too long. Fingering her favorite silver bracelet, she glanced at the chrome office clock on the wall over her file cabinet. Six-thirty. No wonder the office was so quiet.

Everyone else had gone back to their cozy suburban homes, where, according to someone’s statistics, they could enjoy their four bedrooms, two baths, two and a half children, one dog, one cat and two goldfish. Or else they’d headed over to happy hour at the hotel bar across the street so they could fortify themselves to face their mate and two and a half kids. To each his own.

She had a session scheduled with her personal trainer at seven. She loved saying that. It sounded so impressive. Not that she could afford him on a regular basis, but after one session, she’d been so excited about the results that her brother Dylan had made exercise her Christmas present. He was springing for three months of sessions, two per week. She had six weeks to go, and she could already see progress. By summer, she’d be able to do great things for a bikini.

In a matter of minutes, she’d flicked off her monitor, turned her daily calendar to the next day’s page and straightened her desk, readying it for the morning. Organization was a key factor in maintaining the level of professional excellence she demanded of herself.

Standing, she ran a hand down her skirt, ironing the pleats with her fingers so that they lay straight. The suit was teal, the fabric a silk blend, the workmanship exquisite. The price tag had blown her budget to heck and back, but she couldn’t resist it. Work was her passion, but clothes ran a close second.

The phone rang just as she grabbed her briefcase and threw the leather strap over her shoulder. She considered ignoring it, but thought better of it. It might be her pregnant sister Lily, and who knew what a woman with a stomach the size of a bloated beach ball might need?

“Clintock, Mitchum and O’Connell, Ashley Garrett speaking.”

“So this is where you spend your evenings. What a waste.”

The voice was male and unfamiliar. “May I ask who’s calling?”

“Guess I didn’t make as much of an impression on you as you did on me this morning. I’d recognize that soft, feminine voice of yours anywhere. This is Jim Bob McAllister.”

“Mr. McAllister?”

“Yes ma’am. It’s me.”

The Mr. McAllister from the Ranchers Association. She hadn’t recognized his voice, but she’d make it a point to the next time he called. “What can I do for you?”

“I’ve been thinking about what we talked about in our meeting, you know, about how to help folks see beef in a new, much more acceptable light. Anyway, I made a few notes this afternoon and I’d like to toss them around with you.”

“Great. You know what you want. I’m just here to put your desires into a total image package. I can see you tomorrow, any time that’s convenient for you.”

“I’d rather make it tonight.”

Yuck. She’d spent an hour with him this morning, and enough was enough. “Are you still in town?”

“Afraid so. I had hoped to drive back to the ranch this afternoon, but my business took longer than I’d planned. So, since I’m still stuck here, how about talking over dinner? My treat.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“It is to me, little lady. I don’t cotton to women taking out a wallet when they’re out with Jim Bob McAllister.”

Little lady! Gag me with a spoon. But if he wanted to talk business, she couldn’t very well turn him down. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather fax me your ideas? That way you could spend your evening in town with friends and not devote it to business.”

“No, once I get something galloping around in my mind, I just can’t let it go till I’ve put the horse in the stall.”

Which meant there wasn’t an easy way out of this. It could be worse. She’d met him on several occasions before today, mostly at Ranchers Association functions that she’d attended with her dad.

He was a respected rancher and around the same age as her father. Surely he wouldn’t grope her thigh under the table like the last client had after he’d insisted she join him for dinner to discuss the scope of the campaign. She’d told him as nicely as the situation allowed just what he should do with his scope.

“Dinner would be fine, Mr. McAllister, if we can make it around eight-fifteen. Can I meet you somewhere?”

She wrote down the name and address of the restaurant. The office was quiet as she locked up and headed toward the elevator. The parking lot would be even quieter, almost deserted this time of night. It never used to bother her, but ever since her self-acclaimed secret admirer had started leaving cards and flowers attached to her windshield, she was a bit uneasy when leaving the office alone.

Not that she was afraid. It hadn’t happened all that often and the cards were harmless enough, probably someone’s idea of a joke. Besides, her brother Dylan was an ex-cop and he had made sure she was well-trained in the art of self-defense. Pity the poor mugger who mistook her for an easy target.

Still, she walked to her car quickly, anxious to get to the health club as soon as possible so she could finish her session before she met Mr. McAllister.

* * *

ASHLEY PUSHED the breath from her lungs as she pulled her body up in yet another stomach crunch.

“That’s the way,” Bernie encouraged. “Use the stomach muscles, no stress on the back and neck.”

“How many more?” she gasped between breaths.

“Don’t think of it in numbers. Just get in the rhythm of crunch-release. And think what a taut stomach you’re going to have, not that your figure isn’t already great.”

“Then why am I paying for this torture?”

“You’re not. Your brother is. One more. Crrrunch and down and stop.”

She groaned and stayed flat on her back until Bernie took her hands and tugged her to a sitting position.

“We’ve worked on your abs, your stomach and your upper thighs,” he said. “I guess that about does it for this session. Now you can go out and party the night away.”

“Not me. I’m pretty much a dud.”

“Really, I never heard that about you, but I did hear that you’re a workaholic.”

“Who would you hear that from?”

He glanced across the room to where her neighbor Kyle Blackstone was leaning against a weight machine, chatting with a couple of bosomy females in form-fitting tights and clingy tops.

“You surely don’t believe everything Kyle says.”

“I don’t, but the women sure hang on his every word. You’re about the only one in here who doesn’t drool when he shows them a little attention.”

Kyle caught her looking at him and waved. She hated that, but she waved back in what she hoped was a nonchalant, offhand manner. He started over, and her pulse shot up. No need for aerobics when he was around. But she had no intention of letting him know he had that effect on her. He was far too sure of himself as it was. She’d just as soon Bernie not know, either.

“The man spends a lot of time watching you,” Bernie said. “Have you ever been out with him?”

“No.”

“Good. You have a lot more class than those bimbos that follow him around like groupies chasing a rock star.”

“He’s not my type.”

“I don’t think you’ve convinced him of that yet.”

“He’s only interested because he thinks I’m a challenge.” She groaned as she pulled her stressed muscles into a standing position. “Thanks for the session, though I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.”

“No pain, no gain. It’s trite but true.”

Kyle stepped up beside her. “That was quite a workout. If you need someone to massage those aching muscles tonight, I’m available.”

“And just which muscles do you plan on massaging?”

“You name it. I’m very accommodating.”

“I’ll just bet you are.”

“Well, if you don’t want a massage, how about dinner? There’s a new Italian restaurant just a block from our building. The pasta is eccellente and the vino is squisito.” He used his hands, fingers and mouth to add emphasis to his claim.

“And I already have a dinner invitation. Just my luck,” she teased.

He cocked his head to one side and flashed a devastating smile. “We can always do dessert at my place.”

“Dream on.”

“I already am.” He closed his eyes. “Wow! You’re good.”

When he opened his eyes, she closed hers. “Yeah, I am, aren’t I?” She gave him a playful right cuff to his upper arm. “I’m out of here. Thanks again, Bernie. And, Kyle, happy hunting. I’d hate for you to have to sleep alone tonight.”

She turned and walked away, not stopping until she reached the door to the ladies’ locker room. Bernie and Kyle were still standing together, immersed in conversation. Two very nice-looking men. Bernie had more of the macho build, huge shoulders, well-defined biceps, muscular arms and legs. Kyle was just lean and mean. Rock-hard body. Thick dark hair. Deep-blue eyes that a woman could drown in and never yell for help.

The man was drop-dead gorgeous—but he was not for her, and she needed to keep that thought firmly planted in her mind. The minute she became interested in a man, her life became complicated. The men either became possessive and jealous of the time she spent on her career, or else merely wanted to get her into the sack.

Without a doubt, Kyle fell in the latter category. Turning away from him, literally and figuratively, she pushed through the door of the locker room. She’d have to hurry to be at the restaurant by eight-fifteen, and it wouldn’t be prudent to keep Mr. McAllister waiting.

* * *

ASHLEY STUDIED the menu. The restaurant was pricey for her expense account, but no reason to worry, since McAllister would be picking up the check. She’d offer again anyway. Mr. Clintock had informed her when he’d given her the account that he wanted the Ranchers Association to be extremely happy with both the treatment they received from all employees of the agency and the quality of the finished product.

The waiter stopped at her elbow and asked for their drink order. Jim Bob ordered a vodka martini. She ordered a glass of sparkling water with a twist of lime.

“Nonsense. You need a real drink,” the rancher insisted. “Something to help you relax, so that we can get to know each other better.”

“I never drink when I’m on the job.”

“Then let’s just call this a get-acquainted night. I always work better when I feel I’m in tune with the person I’m working with.”

She cringed at the intimacy that had crept into his tone. It would never have been there if he was talking to Mr. Clintock or any of the other men connected with the firm. It was more of the “little lady” mentality that she hated. Or else Mr. McAllister was not as harmless as she’d assumed.

“What I’m most interested in are your ideas about the ad campaign,” she said, making sure he realized she was here only for business purposes. “I know the Ranchers Association is eager to modernize their image.”

“And Mr. Clintock assured me that you’re the woman who can do that for us.”

She centered her attention on the menu. By the time the waiter returned with their drinks, she’d decided on a green salad and a broiled trout filet. Jim Bob went for the steak, the largest and most expensive cut they offered, with a loaded baked potato and a side order of sautéed mushrooms. He ordered an appetizer of oysters Bienville for the two of them to share and a bottle of cabernet sauvignon with two glasses.

She waited until he’d gulped down half his martini, the time span of about four seconds, before she went back to the subject they had supposedly come to discuss. “Why don’t we start with the ideas you’ve come up with since our meeting this morning? That will give me more insight as to how you see this working.”

His mouth stretched into a smile. “I hate to talk business on an empty stomach. Why don’t you tell me something about yourself? And, by the way, the color of that suit really brings out the green of your eyes.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now tell me, what does an attractive little filly like you do for fun?”

“I work.”

“That sounds much too boring, and I have a feeling you’re not a boring lady.”

“Actually, I am.” She sipped her water. “But if you want to know about me, I can certainly give you the details that affect my ability to do my job. I have an undergraduate degree in graphic arts and a master’s degree in commercial advertising. I’ve worked for Clintock, Mitchum and O’Connell for almost two years.”

“And I’m sure you’re very good at what you do. But you can’t just work. As pretty as you are, I bet you have dozens of men on the string.”

“Afraid not. I’ve never wanted the kind of man who would settle for dangling from a string.”

“Then you must break a lot of hearts.”

“None that I know of.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

He scooted the candle from the center of the table. She met his gaze, hopefully achieving the look she was after. Business or nothing. “I’m sure that you’re far more interested in what I can do for the Ranchers Association than you are in my personal life.”

“Everything has a time and a place. Right now it sounds as if you could use more fun in your life. I know this great little club we could visit after dinner.”

Another dirty old man. She’d have to nip in the bud any ideas he had about including her in his extracurricular activities. But she couldn’t nip so sharply that she drew blood, at least not if she could help it. She wanted to keep this account.

“I don’t dance,” she lied, “and I hate nightclubs. The smoke bothers my contact lenses. So let’s talk about you. Let’s see, you’re married and have four children. Am I correct?”

His glowing ardor cooled as quickly as if she’d dumped her glass of water on his head. He downed the rest of his drink and motioned to the waiter to bring him another. After that, he sat quietly for a moment, his hand wrapped around the base of his empty glass while he stared at her from beneath his bushy, salt-and-pepper brows.

“You’re correct,” he said. “I have a lovely family, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the company of a beautiful woman. But if you’re more comfortable talking strictly about business, I can do that, too.”

“I appreciate that, and I want you to know that I’m committed to giving you and the association the type of modern, progressive image we discussed. I’ll make sure you get what you’re paying for.” And that didn’t include her. “So what are your ideas for the ad campaign?” she asked, determined to salvage something from the meeting besides irritation.

He rolled his fresh drink around in the glass, staring into it as if it were a crystal ball. Finally, he set it on the table and looked at her. “The association wants something bolder than we’ve ever had before, something that says we’re happening and on the technological edge of beef production. But we don’t want to lose our image as ranchers. You know, kind of John Wayne and Bill Gates rolled into one. Does that make sense to you?”

Perfectly. He wanted a miracle. And she darn well planned to give it to him, just as long as she didn’t have to get any closer to him than she was right now in order to deliver.

The rest of the meal passed without incident, though she was certain from some of the looks he gave her that he was still eager to inject her boring life with just about anything she wanted, as long as the facts never got back to his wife.

What she wanted was to go back to her apartment and sink into her nice, comfortable bed. Alone.

* * *

IT WAS NEARLY half-past ten when the elevator stopped at the eighth floor of the Prentiss Apartment Building. The door slid open, but before Ashley stepped out, she noticed a woman rushing toward her, head down, her raven-colored hair pulled back from her face. She looked up for a second as they passed, and Ashley could see that her eyes were swollen as if she’d been crying.

“Is something wrong?” Ashley asked. “Can I help you?”

“No.” Her voice wavered, and her hands were shaking as she put them up to stop the door from closing.

Ashley hesitated, then walked toward her own apartment. If the woman didn’t want her help, she couldn’t force it on her.

Besides, she was exhausted. Of course, she could always knock on Kyle Blackstone’s door and tell him she’d come for the massage.

Or she could jump off the balcony onto the street below. It would be about the same kind of suicide. She had willpower, but not the kind that could survive Kyle Blackstone’s hands roaming over her. Even the thought of it sent tingles to parts of her body that didn’t need to tingle.

She walked past his door on the way to her own. A huge wicker laundry basket sat in front of his door. Probably a gift from one of his many admirers. She was tempted to go back and peek inside but changed her mind. It was probably better not knowing what kind of gifts women sent that man.

Once inside her apartment, she twisted the dial of her dimmer switch until the living area was bathed in a welcoming glow. Neither her brother Dylan nor her sister Lily could ever understand how a person raised on a ranch could consider an apartment in a high-rise in downtown San Antonio home, but it fitted her lifestyle just fine, provided everything she needed.

She walked to the bedroom and kicked out of her black pumps, shedding her panty hose before she took off her suit. She draped the skirt and jacket over the hanger but didn’t bother to change into her pajamas. Her black slip would do just fine for the activities she had planned. A nice settling glass of wine while she worked.

Ranchers. Cattle. Beef. The words came back to ramble through her mind as she poured a glass of chardonnay and curled into her overstuffed chair. Ranchers. Cows. Worse than counting sheep, she decided as her eyes grew heavy. Her weary mind lost the power to concentrate, and instead pictured Kyle dressed in a cowboy hat and boots.

She closed her eyes. She didn’t want the man, but she might as well enjoy the image.

* * *

ASHLEY JERKED AWAKE, spilling half a glass of wine onto her living room carpet as she did. She’d obviously been a lot more tired than she’d realized. Only half-awake, she stumbled to the bathroom, wet a cloth, then hurried back to get the stain out before it had time to set.

Down on all fours, she had pain in places she didn’t even know she had places—proof that with Bernie’s help she was working muscles she’d never worked before. And now either she was hearing things, or there was a kitten trying to tell her something.

She looked around the room, half expecting her neighbor’s cat to poke its head from beneath the couch. Mikasa liked nothing better than to sneak in while the door was open, hide out and then pounce on Ashley when she least expected it.

The cries stopped, then started again, several decibels louder this time. But the sound was coming from the hall and not inside the apartment. Ashley stepped to the door and put her eye to the peephole. There was no sign of a cat. No sign of anything or anyone, except that basket in front of Kyle’s closed door. For a second she thought it had moved, but when she blinked and looked back, it was still. Nonetheless, the noise persisted.

If it was Mikasa, she was in trouble, likely caught behind or under something and couldn’t free herself. Ashley slid the dead bolt until she could open the door a crack. She peered up and down the hall, searching for some sign of the cat.

She was nowhere around. The noise had stopped as well, but the basket in front of Kyle’s door was most assuredly shimmying now. She crossed to the basket and leaned over.

Ohmigosh! It definitely wasn’t a cat but it was alive. An absolutely adorable baby girl—at least it looked like a girl—with chubby cheeks and the most beautiful dark brown eyes Ashley had ever seen. She fell to her knees and tugged the blanket to the side so that she could see all of the surprise package. The infant kicked her tiny feet and threw a few punches into the air.

“Don’t cry, baby. Whatever’s wrong, we’ll find someone who can fix it.”

The baby stopped whimpering and stared at Ashley, her tiny lips quivering. Poor thing. Ashley fumbled with the fastener on the safety belt that held her in the car seat. Once it was loosened, she picked up the baby and cuddled her awkwardly. If she had any maternal instincts, they’d never surfaced before, and they didn’t seem to be kicking in now.

There was no telling how long the baby had been out here, but it had been at least two hours since Ashley had first noticed the basket. She was probably hungry. Or maybe she was wet or worse. Ashley reached into the basket, feeling behind the seat for some kind of instructions. Surely babies came with instructions. If they didn’t, they should.

She pulled out a bag of baby supplies. Tucked beneath it was a piece of folded notebook paper. There was something written on it, but one glance and she knew it didn’t contain nearly enough instructions to help out a novice like herself.

Still, she scanned the note until the crisp ring of the elevator bell alerted her she was not alone. She turned as Kyle Blackstone and a shapely brunette with half a dress stepped into the hall. As they got closer, she could see that he was with Alicia, one of his groupies from the health club.

“Oh, look. It’s my neighbor, and doesn’t she look maternal, especially in that little black thingy she’s wearing.”

Ashley glared at him. He was only a few steps away now, and the leggy brunette had draped herself over his left arm so that they looked like one body with two heads and four legs.

Kyle took his arm from around Alicia and dug in his front pocket until he pulled out his key ring. The baby started crying again. He stared first at the baby and then at Ashley. “I hope you’re not at my door looking for a baby-sitter. I’m all tied up tonight. You know how it is.”

She stepped between him and the door. “I know exactly how it is. I’m pretty tied up myself, so as much as I’d like to help out, Daddy, this baby is all yours.”

For once the man was speechless.

CHAPTER TWO

KYLE STARED at Ashley. As much as he loved playing mind games with his sexy neighbor, this was carrying things too far. “Cute trick, Ashley, but I’m not even biting on this one.”

“I don’t call deserting an innocent baby a trick, Kyle Blackstone. I’d call it a crime.”

Her usually lyrical, seductive voice struck with hard-hitting bitterness.

“I think this is a little more than I bargained for.”

Alicia. For a minute he’d forgotten she was with him. Now he wished she wasn’t, but he had to keep up some kind of front. “I’m sure this is a mistake.”

She let go of his arm and backed away. “Why don’t you call me when this mistake is back with its mother?”

“You don’t have to leave.”

“No, by all means stay,” Ashley insisted. “I imagine Kyle will need some help tonight. That is unless he plans to invite the baby’s mother over. Then it might get a little crowded. Of course, what’s a crowd for some people is a ménage à trois for others.”

“Call me later, Kyle, like when the baby starts college.” Alicia turned and headed toward the elevator.

“Oops. Looks like you lost that one. She’d have to be wearing skates to escape any faster.”

“Thank you, neighbor. I didn’t really want to enjoy myself tonight anyway. Now, take your borrowed baby and go home.” He leaned against the door. “Unless you’d like to take Alicia’s place. Actually, it’s the least you can do, now that I think about it.”

“You’re such a romantic. No wonder the women flock to your door.”

“No, that’s the result of my other talents. So, what do you say? Do you want to take that baby back to wherever you got her and join me for a nightcap?”

“You just don’t get it, do you? This baby is yours.”

“No way. I—”

The baby started to cry, interrupting his protests. Ashley rocked the infant in her arms until it quieted, then poked the note in his face. “This was in the basket. The message is extremely clear.”

Kyle took the note and read it slowly, panic whipping through him as the words jumped from the pages in alarming clarity.

Dear Daddy,

Mommy can’t take care of me right now, so I’m coming to live with you. All you have to do is make sure I’m fed regularly and have a warm, safe place to sleep. Mommy put an empty bottle and a plastic pouch of my formula in the back corner of the basket. Just mix it according to the directions. There’s a few diapers there, too, to get you started. You’ll need to change me when I’m soiled or wet. But most of all, Daddy, I need you to love me as much as Mommy does, and to take care of me until she comes back to get me.

Your daughter

Holy smokin’ gun. This was too crazy for words. It had to be some kind of sick joke. No one in their right mind would leave a baby in his care.

Ashley pushed the baby into his arms, leaving him no recourse but to hold it. The infant wiggled and squirmed so that he was afraid he might drop it.

“Looks like you have things under control,” Ashley said, but her voice had lost its acidic edge. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

Panic struck again, this time with the force of a huge fist to the gut. Ashley was about to walk away and leave him with this—this little person. He’d never begged before, but this seemed like a real good time to start. “Please, Ashley. You can’t be heartless enough to leave me all alone with this baby. If you’re not worried about me, think of the baby. I don’t have a clue what to do.”

“Then I guess you better call 911.”

“What? And have the cops come out and arrest her?”

“They don’t arrest babies.”

“Well, she’s a little young for the cops to give her an ice-cream cone and have her wait at the station house until her mother shows up to claim her.”

“They won’t do that, either. They’ll call the authorities.”

“What authorities?”

“How would I know.”

“You’re the one who said to call 911. You shouldn’t give advice if you don’t know what you’re talking about.” This was ridiculous. He was standing in the hall arguing about what to do with a baby someone had abandoned at his door. Still, the mother had asked him to take care of this baby until she came back to get her. With luck that would be in the next minute, but he sure couldn’t count on it. And now she was starting to cry again.

“What do you think’s wrong with her?”

“She’s probably hungry, for one thing.”

“Then don’t you think we should feed her?”

“We?” She spread her hands palms up and her gorgeous green eyes flashed fire. “There is no we, Kyle. Never has been. Never will be.”

The baby’s cries became a loud wail. His muscles tightened and his insides bucked as if someone had force-fed him a jar of jalapeños dipped in chili powder. “Please, Ashley. I’ll owe you one, anything. Just help me feed her and get her quiet.”

“Anything?”

“You name it.”

“Clean the grout on my kitchen floor?”

“You’ll have the cleanest grout in the building,” he promised. “I’ll scrub it with my own toothbrush if necessary.”

“Deal.” Ashley took the baby from him. She didn’t look much more adept at holding her than he’d felt, but she settled the baby on her shoulder, and after a few pats on the back, the baby stopped crying.

“That’s right, sweetie. Ashley has you now, and she’s going to help your daddy fix your formula.”

“I’m not her daddy,” he said, but he opened the door, grabbed the basket and followed Ashley inside his apartment. Amazing. He’d been trying to get Ashley inside his place for months. One crying baby had accomplished the task in mere minutes. A crying baby and a promise to clean her grout.

Ashley Garrett was definitely not easy.

* * *

ASHLEY COULDN’T imagine that she was going to be much help. She knew less than nothing about taking care of infants. Even when she was little, she hadn’t been much of a doll person. Books, computer games and puzzles had been more to her liking. But a bargain was a bargain, and her grout could use a good cleaning. Besides, she couldn’t trust Kyle with the care of this poor baby. He’d probably feed her cold pizza and beer.

“I’ll prepare the formula,” Ashley said, walking straight to the kitchen. “You change her.”

“Change her into what?”

“Change her diaper. She’s probably wet, maybe worse.”

“Oh, no. I don’t do dirty diapers. I draw the line there.”

“Then you’re going to have a very smelly apartment.”

“If I’m doing the grout, the least you can do is change diapers.”

“I don’t think so, Daddy. The deal is just that I help you get her fed and quieted down until you hand her over to someone who’ll know how to take care of her properly.” She passed the baby to Kyle. The darling wailed in protest, not that Ashley blamed her. He held her like a sack of potatoes. Still, he did look a little different with a baby in his arms. Less suave. More vulnerable. Sexier than ever. Not that she’d admit that to him.

“Give your daddy a break, sweetie. He’ll probably get your diaper on backward, but at least you’ll be dry.”

“Backward, huh. How hard can it be to change a diaper?”

“I guess you’ll soon find out.”

“And don’t call me her daddy in front of her. She may start to believe it.”

“Why shouldn’t she? I do.”

He made a face as he turned to carry the baby and one of the diapers to the bedroom. Ashley went back to the task at hand. What a night this had been and it wasn’t over yet. Well, technically it was, because it was half-past midnight according to the clock on Kyle’s microwave, but she had the feeling it might be a long time before she got to crawl into her own bed and get some sleep.

* * *

KYLE LAID THE BABY on the bed, then sat down beside her. She kicked and boxed her little hands in the air, though she was no longer crying. In fact, she appeared to be enjoying the opportunity to stretch and kick, unhindered by her baby seat or someone’s arms.

He eased his face closer to her bottom and was grateful that no unpleasant odors assaulted his nostrils. Actually she smelled...like a baby. Not that he knew a lot about how babies were supposed to smell.

She made a cooing noise and kicked all the harder. She’d be a heartbreaker when she grew up. Thick, dark hair that curled around her heart-shaped face. Big chocolatey eyes accented with thick lashes. And the cutest little mouth he’d ever seen. He touched a finger to one of her chubby little hands, and she grasped it, holding on to him as if she wanted to shake hands.

“At least you’re not as unfriendly as Miss Ashley,” he said, talking to her as if she were a peer. He wasn’t about to try that baby-talk stuff Ashley spewed when she talked to her.

When she let go of his finger, he sat back and dealt with the shock of a baby in his bed. “Your mother must have been desperate to desert a little charmer like you. But don’t worry, she said she loves you. She’ll be back soon.”

Only if she really loved her little daughter, why had she dumped her at his door? What if he hadn’t come home tonight at all?

Easy question. If he hadn’t come home, Ashley would have been stuck taking care of the baby by herself instead of the two of them doing it together. But here they were, all nice and cozy, with Ashley in his kitchen wearing nothing but a silky black slip that showed off her body to perfection. Admittedly the slip and garments she had on under it covered far more than Alicia’s dress had, but still, a slip was one of those unmentionables, and that was sexier than any dress.

He chucked the baby under the chin. “Ah, now I know who you are, sweetheart. My own little Cupid who dropped by to get Ashley and me together. You just keep working your magic, and I’ll turn on the charm. With us teamed up together, she’ll never be able to resist me.”

Now for the diaper. He held it up. It looked fairly simple, but the last thing he wanted was to get it on backward and prove Ashley right. A row of pink and blue bunnies danced along the top border. He was sure that was a clue, but the thing had obviously been designed by a woman. A man would have just printed the word front on one side and back on the other.

He lifted the hem of the pink dress and pulled off the ruffled bloomers, a task far more difficult than it looked. Evidently babies didn’t know they were supposed to cooperate during the procedure.

“Is that as far as you’ve gotten?”

He looked up as Ashley stepped to the door, bottle in hand. “I could have been finished, but Cupie and I were bonding.”

“Cupie?”

“It’s a private joke.”

“Well, drop it. A nickname like that could scar her for life.”

Ashley stepped to the bed and took over the chore of changing the diaper while he stood back and watched carefully so he’d be sure to do it right next time. If there was a next time. With any luck, he’d be able to keep Ashley on duty until the real mom came to her senses. Or until he was forced to call the authorities Ashley talked about and have them take her away.

Take her away. Even the words were cold—heartless. He forced them from his mind as he watched Ashley tug and smooth the diaper before finally snapping it into place.

“All done,” she said, smiling as if she’d accomplished some major feat.

He realized then that she was a big fake. She didn’t know any more about tending babies than he did, yet she was giving this her best shot. He’d lusted after her for months. Found her wit and sexy looks a killer combination. But this was the first time he’d realized that he actually liked her.

Her hips swayed seductively as she marched into the bathroom, disposed of the wet diaper and washed her hands before rejoining him at the bed.

She picked up the bottle and held it out to him. “Do you want to feed her?”

“Me?”

“Well, if it turns out that she is your daughter, you’ll have to learn. You might as well start now.”

“It’s not going to turn out that way. I’m telling you this is all a mistake.”

“How can you be so sure? Every time I see you, you’re with a different woman. You don’t expect me to believe that you’ve never had sex with any of them.”

“Not as many as you seem to think. I’m rather choosy about who I go to bed with. Besides, when I do have sex, I use protection.”

“Protection is not a hundred percent. You won’t have to worry about it for long, though. I’m sure that once the authorities read the note the mother wrote, they’ll demand that you have DNA testing to determine whether or not you’re the father.”

A new blow to his system. He hadn’t even considered that possibility. Not that he was afraid of the outcome. No one was more careful than he was to make sure he avoided this kind of surprise. He had his life all planned out and it didn’t include kids until he was at least forty. He had fourteen years to go before that date approached.

“Guess your daddy is scared to try.” Ashley crawled onto his bed, picked up the baby and poked the nipple into the tiny mouth.

The baby latched on to it as if she’d been starving for days, though the rolls of fat on her thighs indicated otherwise. He could hear the sucking sounds from where he was standing and the soft mewing purrs of contentment as warm milk filled her stomach.

His own problems slipped to the back of his mind as the image seared its way into his consciousness. Ashley Garrett on his bed, bottle-feeding a tiny, helpless baby. The sight of it made him feel funny, like watching a sad movie and pretending not to be affected.

He wasn’t sure what it was all about, but he had the sneaking suspicion that it couldn’t be good.

* * *

“SHE’S ASLEEP,” Ashley whispered. “Throw back the spread so that I can lay her on the sheet.”

He did as he was told, and Ashley put the infant down slowly, right in the middle of his king-size bed. She wiggled a little but didn’t open her eyes. So far, so good.

Ashley eased from the bed and started toward the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To get the baby’s blanket from the basket. It’s softer than yours.”

“Just so you don’t think you’re sneaking out of here.”

“No way.”

“Good.”

“I don’t sneak.”

He flashed her a less than authentic smile as she sashayed out of the room. By the time she returned, he’d kicked off his shoes, settled back on the pillow and closed his eyes.

“Kyle, wake up and look at this.”

He opened his eyes a slit. Ashley was standing over him holding a doll. “Uh-huh. That’s good, Ashley. You can bring your dolly to bed with us if that makes you happy.”

“It’s not my doll. I found it in the basket when I pulled out the blanket. Apparently it had fallen beneath the covers.” Her voice rose excitedly.

“So, what’s the big deal? The kid’s mom probably wanted her to have a toy from home to play with.”

“This isn’t a baby’s toy. It’s porcelain, very delicate and easily broken.”

“What do you expect from a mom who leaves her daughter in my care? She probably never heard of toy safety.”

“Try to pay attention and follow me. This could be important. Since the doll is obviously not for the baby, it must represent something, be some kind of message to you. Why else would it be in the basket?”

“There are no messages in that basket for me. I am not the father.” But he reluctantly rose to his elbows. “Maybe it’s some kind of family heirloom and the mother wants the child to have it.”

“Possibly. Or maybe it’s something you gave the mother and she put it in the basket so you’d know who gave birth to your child. Are you sure you’ve never seen it before?”

“No. That’s my final answer. And to set the record straight again, this is not my baby.”

“Your baby or not, I think the doll represents something. It could be the woman’s way of crying out to be found. She could even be in danger.”

“And you could be suffering from lack of sleep or plain old delirium.”

“When I got off the elevator tonight, I ran into a young woman who looked frightened and nervous. I’ll bet anything she’s the one who dropped off this baby. I think she was Hispanic. She even had the same dark hair and eyes as the baby, and I know I’ve never seen her around here before.”

“Why didn’t you mention that before?”

“I didn’t think of it until I saw the doll. Something in the doll’s expression reminded me of the woman. Kyle, the baby was left at your door. That makes you morally responsible. You have to help that woman.”

“Hold on, Ashley. Your reasoning is faulty.” But the fear in her voice caught him off guard. Tending a baby for one night was one thing. Getting involved in the mystery of who she was and how she’d come to be left by his door was a different ball game altogether.

“Just give this a little time,” he said. “If it’s a joke, someone will show up any minute. If it’s a mistake, the mother will surely realize it soon and come back for the baby.”

“Can’t you at least consider the fact that this may be your child?”

“No.”

“Think about it. She’s not very old. She can’t sit up by herself, but she’s not a newborn, either.”

“Should this have some significance to me?”

She nodded. “If I had to make a guess, I’d say the baby’s three, maybe four months old. Who were you dating twelve or thirteen months ago?”

“Thirteen months ago, I was—” Damn. He blew out a slow stream of air, suddenly feeling as if he’d boarded a runaway train and they were approaching a cliff. His gaze went from Ashley to the sleeping baby in the center of the bed. Dark hair. Big, expressive eyes. Hispanic mother.

Ashley stepped closer, staring at him as if she could read his mind. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Worse.” The room closed in around him, making the air so stifling it seemed to cut off his breath. He rose and planted his feet squarely on the floor. “I need a breath of fresh air. If you need me, I’ll be on the balcony.”

“Don’t jump,” she said, her voice softer, gentler than it had been all evening. “It could be a lot worse.”

“Yeah. She could have been twins.”

* * *

ASHLEY EYED Kyle’s stooped shoulders as he walked from the room. Anxiety looked strange on him, destroyed the air of cocky self-confidence that before tonight she’d accepted as the sum total of who he was. Seeing this different side of him made her uncomfortable, made her fear that they would never go back to the impersonal level of playful sparring that had characterized their relationship.

They’d been neighbors for nearly a year, but she seldom ran into him in the apartment building. Most of their encounters had been at the health club. Something about sweating together two or three nights a week worked wonders at breaking down the barriers empty apartment halls raised.

She flirted, he teased. He tried to talk her into going out with him; she came back with witty put-downs. It was harmless fun for both of them, especially when she’d had no intention of ever letting the devastatingly handsome man into her life. Now she was in his apartment. In his bed. Fretting over a baby that might or might not be his, though the look on his face a few minutes ago made her think it was.

The baby squirmed in her sleep, lifting her hand to her mouth and inserting a chubby thumb. Poor darling, deserted by her mother—though Ashley had the distinct feeling the mother must have had a very good reason for what she’d done. Now everything was up to Kyle.

Like it or not, if he was the father, he’d have to take care of her and he definitely couldn’t depend on Ashley to play nursemaid. She had the biggest opportunity of her career staring her in the face. Tomorrow she’d be facing it with bags under her eyes from lack of sleep. She tugged a fallen slip strap into place and eased from the bed so as not to wake the baby. She’d fulfilled her part of the bargain and it was past time she went back to her own bed.

A few seconds later she stepped out the French doors and onto the balcony. Kyle was standing near the railing, staring into the moonless night. “The baby’s asleep, and I’m going now. You should be able to handle her the rest of the night on your own.”

He turned toward her, and even in the dim glow from the streetlights below them, she could see the strain that had settled into the muscles of his face. “I wish you wouldn’t go.”

“I don’t know what else I can do to help.”

“Suppose she wakes up crying.”

“Then you feed her. There’s enough formula left for a couple more bottles.”

“I can’t feed her. I can’t change her diapers.” He threw up his hands. “I have no idea how to care for her.”

“But you’re no longer insisting that she’s not yours.”

He shrugged his shoulders and ran his hands deep into his pockets. “I still don’t think I’m the father, but I could be. I was dating a woman named Tessa Ortiz about the time the baby would have been conceived.”

“You’re always dating a woman, Kyle. One after the other. You had to know something like this would happen sooner or later.”

“If she’s mine, I’ll take care of her—somehow.”

She was on solid ground with her accusations, but still the desperation in his voice weakened her resolve. At least he wasn’t screaming that it was the woman’s fault, or blindly denying his responsibility in the matter.

“You’ll need to have DNA testing done.”

“I will—when the time comes.”

“Why not now? It’s quick, simple and the only way you can be sure.”

“If I do, I’d be undergoing the tests to prove that she isn’t my daughter, not that she is. It just doesn’t seem right.”

“Right or not, the authorities will insist upon it.”

“Not if I don’t call them.”

“You said yourself you have no idea how to take care of a baby. Besides, it’s illegal to keep a baby that’s not yours.”

“Let’s not get into this tonight. If I don’t hear from the baby’s mother by morning, I’ll locate Tessa and find out what’s going on. If I can’t find her, I’ll take the baby and go in for DNA testing.”

She stared at him, amazed by his decision. Her expectations were that he would either call the authorities at once or have paternity testing done as soon as possible. But it seemed as if he really cared about what happened to this baby. He got to her, weakened her resolve.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if you’re going to take care of the baby tonight, I’ll stay and help. I just need to go home and change into a sweatsuit.”

“Oh, no!” He grabbed her hand. “If you walk out that door, you’ll never come back.”

He had a point. “Then I’ll need to borrow a pair of pajamas.

His face finally split into a grin. “You’re on.”

He took her hand and led her back to the bedroom, and she had the strange feeling that she might have just been had. Still, a promise was a promise. “Remember, this is only for tonight, Kyle. After that, you’re on your own with this project.”

“One night at a time. That’s all I’m asking. There is one slight problem, though.”

“I’ll bite.”

“I don’t own any pajamas and I only have one bed.”

“Then I hope you have a very comfortable couch. Otherwise you may wake up with a stiff back.”

“If you want stiff, I can give you stiff. All you have to do is ask.”

“While you’re waiting, why don’t you hold your breath and count to infinity.”

He nodded. “I’ll take the couch.”

CHAPTER THREE

“NO, I’M NOT sick, Ellen. I just have a personal emergency that I have to tend to.” Ashley stared at the phone and wondered how she’d gotten herself into this mess. All the work she had waiting for her at the office, and here she was trying to explain to her secretary why she wouldn’t be in today. But there was no telling what would happen to that poor baby if she just walked off and left her in Kyle’s care.

“I hope there’s not anything wrong with your sister Lily’s pregnancy,” Ellen said.

“Lily’s fine. Just look at my calendar and see if there’s anything that can’t be postponed.”

“You have that shoot of the TV ad scheduled for ten. Do you want me to cancel it?”

“No, I called Mark Beall over in Media about that. He’s agreed to handle it for me.” And if he screwed it up, she’d kill him. “Remind him that if he has any concerns, no matter how small, he should page me. That’s one of my most persnickety clients.”

“I’ll tell him, Ashley. And what about Mr. McAllister?”

“What about him?”

“Should I give him your pager number if he calls here for you?”

“Give it to him if, and only if, he says it’s important that he talk to me today or if he pushes for it.” Yesterday she wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes. What a difference a day made—or in this case, a dinner for two. But the RA account was too important to risk getting him all worked up over minor technicalities.

“I’ll take care of everything, Ashley. I just hope there’s nothing seriously wrong.”

“Nothing that won’t be handled in one day. That, I can promise you. If you need me for anything, page me or call me on my cell phone. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll call you this afternoon to see how things are going.”

Once she’d hung up the phone, Ashley crossed her sunlit kitchen, walked to her coffeepot and poured another cup of the strong brew. She usually used cream and a sprinkling of sugar substitute, but this morning she needed a full-strength blast of caffeine. She’d slept very little, stirring with every movement of the baby sleeping beside her. Then she’d gotten up at five to give her another bottle.

In all fairness, Kyle had untangled himself from the sheets on the sofa and padded to the kitchen after her. She’d turned down his offer of help. Not so much that she didn’t need it, but it was incredibly awkward sharing early morning with him, especially with him in his boxers and her in an oversize cotton shirt that she’d confiscated from his closet.

Now she was missing a day of work. This wasn’t her problem, but how could she ignore the needs of a helpless baby? Tessa had to be desperate to leave her daughter with Kyle. Maybe she was dying of some horrible illness or perhaps she was in imminent danger.

Ashley took a long sip of the coffee and tried to remember the face of the woman she’d glimpsed at the elevator last night. She had looked upset. And she had the same dark hair and eyes as the baby. But if she was Tessa Ortiz, and if the baby was Kyle’s daughter, why had the woman waited until now to tell him?

Jumping at the sound of battering knuckles on her door, she set her coffee mug on the table with such force that the hot liquid sloshed from the cup. She grabbed a napkin and wiped the spill from the counter and from her fingers as the pounding started again, this time louder than before. No surprise that when she unlatched the door and swung it open, Kyle was standing outside with the baby in his arms.

“I told you I needed an hour to shower and dress. I have ten more minutes,” she announced.

He gave her a quick once-over. “You look dressed to me.”

“I haven’t put on my makeup.”

“Forget it. You look fine. Besides, we have a problem.”

“There you go with the ‘we’ again.”

“I think the baby is sick,” he said, ignoring her comment.

Ashley studied the baby, a sense of panic stewing inside her. “What makes you think so?”

“This.” Kyle pointed at a disgusting spot on the shoulder of his T-shirt. “She started crying, so I picked her up. I held her on my shoulder the way you did this morning, and she spit milk all over me. Stinky milk!”

“Good going, sweetie!”

“This isn’t funny, Ashley. I think we should take her to a doctor.”

Ashley doubted it, though in all honesty, she couldn’t be sure. What she knew about babies would make a book about as thick as one on Women Who Long to Be Poor and Ugly. “I’ll call my sister Lily. She’s pregnant. She’ll know if spitting up is normal or if it’s serious.”

“How much do you plan on telling her?”

“Just the basics. I won’t even mention that the baby in question came by special delivery. But you might want to tell her more.”

“Why would I?

“When she’s not about to have a baby, she and my brother Dylan operate Finders Keepers, a private detective agency that specializes in locating missing persons. They could help you find Tessa.”

“I’d prefer to handle the search myself.” He paced the floor, still holding the baby, his hair mussed and his chin darkened by whiskers. She couldn’t help but notice how appealing he looked, but then any man with a baby would effuse a certain amount of charm.

She turned away and dialed Lily’s number. Thankfully it was her sister and not her husband, Cole, who answered the phone. The fewer people Ashley had to talk to, the better it would be.

“Lily, how are you?”

“Big and beautiful. At least that’s what Cole said this morning when I needed help tying my shoes. It’s no wonder I love that man. What’s up with you?”

“I have a question.”

“You, miss career woman, have a question for me. Can you wait while I circle the date on the calendar?”

“What are you talking about? I ask you questions all the time? Anyway, this question is way out of my area of expertise. It’s about babies, or about one in particular.”

“Whose baby?”

“It belongs to one of my neighbors.”

“The woman with the cat is too old to have a baby. You’re not talking about that hunk across the hall, are you?”

“Actually, it does belong to Kyle Blackstone. It’s a long story. I’ll explain it to you one day when you have absolutely nothing to do.”

“So, what’s the question?”

She could hear the suspicion in her sister’s voice, but a little suspicion was better than telling the whole story and providing her family with entertainment at her expense. “The baby in question spit up some milk after she took her morning bottle. Is that normal?”

“Absolutely, especially if it’s just a small amount.”

A direct answer without questions. So far, so good. “What do babies eat besides formula?”

“How old is this mystery baby?”

“I’m guessing three or four months.”

“That’s pretty vague. Can’t you just ask Kyle how old she is?”

“He’s not sure.”

“And I have the distinct feeling that wool is being pulled over my eyes. Spill it, sister. I’m not getting off the phone until you tell me the true story.”

She sighed and stared at Kyle. He probably wouldn’t like it, but if he was going to keep this baby while he searched for the mother, he had to know how to take care of her. “Okay, Lily. The truth is that someone left a baby in a basket in front of Kyle’s door last night.” Lily listened, interrupting occasionally to ask questions while Ashley gave her the briefest of details.

“I think I better have a look at this baby. I’ll get dressed and be there as soon as I can. In the meantime, try to talk some sense into your neighbor. He needs DNA testing—pronto. Deserting a baby is a crime, and if the child isn’t his, he should turn it over to the Department of Social Services and the police immediately so they can search for the mother.”

“I’ve already suggested he call the authorities. He’s a very hardheaded man.”

“Too bad that isn’t the only thing he has that’s hard. If it were, he wouldn’t be wondering if this baby were his.”

“I’ve already pointed that out to him, too.”

By the time she hung up the phone, Kyle had quit pacing and moved to stand at her elbow. “You squealed on an innocent baby. How could you do that?”

“I didn’t squeal.”

“Tell her that to her face.” He held the infant so she was practically nose to nose with Ashley. “Tell her that you want me to call the cops and have her picked up on vagrancy charges for loitering in our hall.”

She patted the baby’s cheek. “Your father is a little unbalanced, sweetie. But don’t worry. His kind of weirdness only affects males. You’re immune.”

“So what’s the verdict? Is she sick or not?”

“Spitting up is perfectly normal. And my sister isn’t going to alert the authorities or anyone else about your predicament. In fact, she offered to come over. I’m not sure why, but I know she’ll give you some advice on tending the baby. And she thinks you should call immediately and get an appointment to go in for DNA testing.”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“What is there to think about? You have to find out if she’s your daughter. You can’t just keep her if she isn’t. A baby’s not like a stray puppy that followed you home.”

“You make it sound like I kidnapped her. I doubt very seriously that she’s my daughter, but someone reached out to me for help, and I’m trying to oblige.”

“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Does that surprise you?”

“Yeah. Frankly, it does. I never pictured you as having a heart, much less a bleeding one.”

“It’s not like I’m planning to raise her to adulthood. I’ll track down Tessa and find out what’s going on. If I can’t find her, I’ll take the next step. If that makes me a bleeding heart, so be it.”

“In that case you better make a long list of questions for Lily, because after today you’ll be on your own unless you get one of your lady friends to come help you. This is it for me.”

He studied her floor. “I don’t know. As dirty as that grout is, you may want to keep me on retainer.”

“Today only, Kyle. I’m not kidding.”

“Fine. Now how about watching her while I grab a shower.” He handed her the baby, then put his mouth close to the baby’s ear. “Be a good girl for Miss Ashley, and feel free to do any pooping you think is necessary or any further spitting up while I’m gone.”

The darling snuggled against Ashley, resting her head over Ashley’s heart. It felt strange to hold her, kind of warm and satisfying. And once again, all Ashley could think of was what terrible thing could have driven a woman to desert this child.

“Tell me about Tessa, Kyle.”

He had already started toward the door but he turned back at her request. “Why?”

“Because I need to understand how she could walk away from her own flesh and blood.”

* * *

KYLE FELT HIS muscles tense as old memories surfaced. What caused any woman to put her own needs above the needs of her child? It was a question as old as time, or at least one as old as he was. But it wouldn’t do to fall back into the shadows of his past. He’d worked too hard to put them away.

“I don’t know that much about Tessa,” he answered, realizing how little he really did know about a woman who had shared two years of his life. “She was a very private person.”

“Were you in love with her?”

“I liked making love with her. Does that qualify?”

“Not even close.”

“Then I probably wasn’t in love with her, but I liked her a lot. We had fun together. She laughed at my jokes. I brought her coffee in bed. It worked for us—for a while.”

“And she never called you to tell you she was pregnant?”

“Not a word.”

“It doesn’t make sense. Even if she didn’t tell you when she had the baby, why wouldn’t she have come to you when she was in trouble instead of just dropping the baby at your door?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I like women. I never claimed to understand them.” He didn’t wait for more questions. Tessa Ortiz was the one with the answers. More to the point, she had the answers if this baby was his. He still didn’t believe that she was.

But then he’d been wrong before.

* * *

LILY GARRETT BISHOP moved to the back of the elevator as two men stepped inside after her. They turned and let their gaze settle on her bulging stomach. Both of them nodded and smiled. It was always interesting to watch strange men’s reactions to her condition.

Some looked away, as if anything associated with the birds and bees embarrassed them. Others smiled or started talking about their own kids, treating the fact that she was pregnant like the miracle of life it was. She felt much more comfortable around the latter.

The younger man was at least six feet tall and close to two hundred pounds, most of it muscle, judging from the way he filled out his jeans and the arms that protruded from the rolled sleeves of his plaid shirt. Dark hair, piercing blue eyes, probably in his mid to late thirties. Slight limp. Handsome but not a pretty boy. More of a man’s man. Could be a construction worker, a truck driver, maybe a cop.

She smiled as the elevator stopped on the fourth floor and the two men stepped off. Before starting Finders Keepers with her brother Dylan, she’d worked in forensics for the FBI, and she prided herself on her observation skills. Very little ever got by her. Another floor or two and she’d have had the guy’s facial features down, maybe even some of his expressions. Little things were all important when you were searching for missing persons. That and the ability to get leads from thin air.

When the elevator jiggled to a stop on the eighth floor, she stepped out and headed to Ashley’s apartment. She’d planned to spend the day writing thank-you notes for the baby gifts she’d already received, but nothing short of labor pains would have kept her from coming into San Antonio today.

The reality of her career-minded little sister tending to and fretting over a baby that belonged to her amorous neighbor was too good to miss. She’d always suspected Ashley had the hots for the man. Once she saw them together, she’d know for sure.

She knocked on the door and waited. Ashley opened it with a finger to her lips. “Shhh. The baby just fell asleep.”

Lily stepped inside and gave Ashley a quick hug. “So where is this mystery baby?”

“I made a pallet for her in my bedroom. That way she won’t roll onto the floor if I don’t hear her the minute she wakes up. You can take a peek, but don’t wake her. I’m already exhausted and it’s not even 9:00 a.m. But then I was up past midnight with her and back up before daybreak this morning.”

Lily patted her stomach. “And this is the life I can’t wait to start. Do you think I’m crazy?”

“No. You’re very lucky. You have a wonderful husband who loves you. I, on the other hand, am playing nursemaid to the baby of a man who drives me to distraction.”

“So why are you doing it?”

“Go ahead and peek into the bedroom. You’ll see.”

Lily did as she was instructed. The baby was lying on her side, sucking her right thumb for all she was worth. Cute as a bug—what baby wasn’t—but still she couldn’t imagine that Ashley had actually missed a day of work to baby-sit.

“Would you like some coffee?” Ashley asked when she joined her in the kitchen.

“No, I’ve already had my one cup limit. Too much caffeine isn’t good for the baby. I’ll take a glass of milk if you have one.”

Ashley opened the refrigerator door and stared at the meager contents while Lily peered over her shoulder. “No milk. I have Diet Coke.”

Lily walked to the cabinet and pulled out a glass. “Water’s good for me.” She filled the glass with cool bottled water and took a seat at the breakfast nook. “I think your assessment of the baby’s age is probably accurate.” She sipped her water. “Did you tell Kyle that I recommended immediate testing to determine if he’s the father?”

“I did.” Ashley took the seat opposite Lily. “He wants to try to locate Tessa Ortiz first. He seems sure that if he’s the father, Tessa is the mother.”

“Are you sure he’s not just putting off the inevitable, trying to delay finding out the truth about whether or not he’s the father?”

“I’m not sure of anything.”

“But you’re getting involved all the same.”

“No way. I offered to help out this one day, watch the baby while he tries to track down Tessa. Tomorrow I’m back on the job. The world needs beef, and it’s my job to convince them of the fact.”

“Well, if your hunky neighbor is going to keep this baby, he’ll have to find someone to watch her. Four-month-old babies require constant care.”

“Do me a favor. Never mention the word hunk in front of him. He takes it to heart.”

“I’ll watch my tongue.” Only she wasn’t going to watch it about everything. She’d driven all the way into town. She might as well say her piece. “Even if he only keeps the baby a few days, she’ll need clothes, toys, food, a crib. Babies don’t just camp out.”

“He plans to buy those things today.”

“He’s also taking a risk. If something happens to the baby while she’s in his care, and she’s not his baby, he could face a lawsuit or worse.”

“He’ll be over here in a minute. You can tell him all of that to his face, and I hope you get further than I did.” The phone rang and Ashley jumped from her chair. “That’s probably him now.”

Lily watched as Ashley spoke a series of hellos into the phone, then slammed the receiver down. She stood staring into space, her lips pulled tight.

“What was that about?”

“I’m not sure. I thought it was a crank call at first, but just before I hung up, a man with a deep-set voice warned me to stay away from Kyle Blackstone. He said the man couldn’t be trusted. Before I could ask what he meant, he hung up.”

Lily stood, walked over and put a reassuring arm about Ashley’s shoulders, though she didn’t feel particularly calm herself. “Did you check the caller ID?”

“It said unable to identify.”

“Has this happened before?”

“Never.”

Lily grew uneasy. She didn’t want to frighten Ashley, but this whole situation was sounding fishier by the minute. Ashley was proficient, intelligent and ambitious, but she was still a bit naive when it came to the ways of the world. Lily was probably partly responsible for that. She and her brother Dylan had both been overly protective where their little sister was concerned.

“What do you really know about Kyle Blackstone?” she asked, other than the fact that he frequents the same health club you do and lives across the hall?”

“Not all that much. He’s an attorney with Bragg, Cotton and Lerner. He works out two or three evenings a week and he has women out the kazoo.” Ashley dropped to a chair. “You think that call might be on the up and up, don’t you? That someone actually thinks I need to be warned about Kyle.”

“I just think you need to be careful. Don’t rush into any kind of relationship with him. I know how easy that would be if the two of you start tending to this baby together.”

“I’m not getting involved with him at all. I’ve made that clear to him.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about.”

She’d probably said too much, made Ashley uneasy when it was unlikely there was anything dangerous going on. It was just that searching for missing persons had exposed her to some pretty ugly situations, taught her that a lot of people were not what they seemed.

“I wouldn’t worry, Ashley. Just be careful and keep your eyes and ears—” Before she could finish, the front door burst open and a man stepped inside. Though Lily had never met Kyle Blackstone before, she immediately recognized him from her sister’s descriptions. The only difference was that the man was even better looking than Ashley had admitted, even in his present state. Right now he looked like a little boy who’d just lost his ice-cream money.

Lily watched Ashley’s reaction to the man, saw her tense the second she picked up on his agitated state. Observed the look that passed between them. It appeared a lot more than neighborly to her.

Ashley crossed the floor and stopped just in front of Kyle. “What happened? Did you get in touch with Tessa?”

He shook his head and exhaled sharply. “But I finally got in touch with Tessa’s sister. The news was not good.”

CHAPTER FOUR

A FATHER. Kyle had always expected to be one—one day. He’d imagined himself tossing a baseball, taking a son to football games, putting together a train set on Christmas Eve. He’d never been opposed to having a daughter, either, though he’d never given that possibility much thought.

The whole concept of fatherhood had loomed somewhere in the distant future. A contingency for much later—when his career was firmly established. When he’d sown his wild oats, driven his share of fast cars and grown bored with skiing in the mountains of Colorado and scuba diving off some exotic island in the Bahamas. When he was ready for a life of bottle-feeding and diaper changing.

That was indubitably not now.

Ashley stepped closer. “Did Tessa’s sister say that she’d given birth? Is Tessa in some kind of trouble now?”

“No, nothing that specific. Actually, nothing that offers any real solutions. She hasn’t seen or heard from her sister since a year ago. She’s pretty sure she’s moved out of town. Evidently they had a major argument and parted company.” He dropped to the couch and that’s when he noticed the other person in the room. She was taller than Ashley, her hair long where Ashley’s was short, but she had the same expressive green eyes and dark, shiny hair. And the evidence was jury-proof. She was most definitely pregnant.

“I’m Lily,” the woman said, walking over to shake his hand. “If this is personal, I’ll be glad to step into the bedroom while you and Ashley talk.”

He stood and extended his hand. “No, you already know about as much as I do anyway.”

Ashley sat down on the couch beside him, but not too close. Lily took the chair across from them, lowering herself slowly and holding her back as she did. He tried to picture Tessa in the same condition. Awaiting the birth of a daughter that for some reason she had decided to keep from him. He had trouble with the image. Tessa wasn’t the type who liked to suffer alone. That much he did know about her.

Ashley turned to face him. “A year ago... Tessa would have had to be pregnant even then, but maybe not far enough along to realize it. When did the two of you break up?”

“Right after Christmas. We’d been living together. She moved out.”

“Did you talk to her after that?” Lily asked.

“She came by to pick up her mail a few times. I asked how she was doing. She asked how I was doing. That was about it.”

“So why are you suddenly so upset?” Ashley asked. “An hour ago you were vehement that you weren’t the father. Now you seem worried that you are.”

He crossed an ankle over his knee, an effort to hide just how flustered he really was. “I expected this to be a done deal by now. I’d get Tessa’s number from information, which I tried to do. No listing. Or I’d talk to her sister Margaret and find out for certain that Tessa had not given birth. Now I find out Tessa likely moved out of town months ago and her sister doesn’t know how to contact her.”

Lily pulled her hair off her neck, then let it settle about her shoulders, all the while keeping her gaze pinned on him. “Then it’s possible that you’re the father?”

“I’m not denying that it’s possible, it’s just that it’s not likely. We used protection. But even more than that, I can’t see Tessa deciding she’d go through a pregnancy and birth without telling me about it. And even if she had, she’d have no reason to stick the baby in a basket and leave her at my door. She’s the type who’d just come by and say she needed help.”

“Maybe she’s afraid of how you’d react.”

He threw up his hands. “Do I look like some deranged brute to you? I’m a sensible man, an attorney for God’s sake. People come to me to get them out of a jam. It’s what I do.”

“As an attorney, you must know what options are available to you.”

One thing about Lily, she didn’t back down. “The way I see it, I can try to find Tessa, though I doubt she’s the mother of this baby, or I can sit around and hope the woman who left the baby at my door will come back for her.”

“You can make certain the baby’s not yours, and if that’s the case, you can notify the authorities,” Lily offered.

“That would be the easiest thing for me to do, but that seems like the worst thing I can do for the baby.”

Ashley laid a hand on his arm. The touch surprised him, made him even more aware that the woman he’d tried to get close to for weeks was seeing him at his most vulnerable. Not confident and self-assured, but reeling from a situation he seemed to have little control over.

Last night he’d felt certain this would all be settled by morning. Now all he felt was the crushing weight of responsibility bearing down on his shoulders. “I’m not ready to give up,” he said, “not yet. But I could sure use a crash course in baby care.”

Lily nodded. “I can do that, but you can’t put off learning the truth indefinitely.”

“I know. I’m thinking a few days, a week at most. I have some vacation time coming, and I can do a lot of the prep work for the cases I’m working on now via the computer. If I don’t turn up anything in that time, I’ll go with the DNA testing.”

“You’ll have to buy baby clothes and supplies. And you’ll need to borrow or rent a crib.”

“Just give me a list and tell me where to go to find the items. I’ll do the best I can. Right now I’m all the baby has. Well, me and Ashley.”

Ashley shook her head. “Don’t let that thought land as it flies through your mind. I have a career and an assignment that can’t be put on hold, and I will—”

“I’ll tell you what,” Lily said, warding off Ashley’s tirade. “Since Ashley’s already taken the day off, I’ll make a list and the two of you can shop for the needed supplies. I’ll baby-sit while you’re doing that and try to make notes of things Kyle needs to know, like making sure the bottles and nipples are sterile and how to bathe the baby.”

“Beef,” Ashley asserted. “I’m supposed to be concentrating on a way to sell more beef to the citizens of Texas. Not on buying diapers.”

But the resignation in her voice was obvious. Kyle was certain he’d won this bout, thanks to Lily. He would never have deliberately used the baby to get to Ashley, but he might as well play the cards he’d been dealt. A man with a baby. No woman could resist them.

Unless the baby was his for life.

* * *

LILY WATCHED Ashley and Kyle walk out the door. Kyle Blackstone was not what she’d expected from Ashley’s previous descriptions of him. He did have the great body she’d mentioned, the dark, wavy hair and the easy smile, but he had an aura of genuineness that had caught her off guard.

Still, the morning’s phone call warning Ashley to beware of him made her nervous. Add to that the fact that Ashley knew nothing concrete about him except that he was an attorney with a prominent firm and attracted women the way her black slacks grabbed lint. And he was awfully hesitant to go to the authorities or have DNA testing conducted.

But a few phone calls, a few record checks, and she’d likely find out all she needed to know about Kyle Blackstone. She wouldn’t even mention this to Cole and Dylan unless she found out something they needed to know. Cole would be upset that she was conducting any kind of investigation when she was supposed to be taking it easy until the baby was born. And Dylan had a tendency to blow everything out of proportion if it even remotely involved the safety of their little sister.

Walking to the bedroom door, she peeked in on the baby. The darling was still sleeping soundly, likely as exhausted as Ashley and Kyle had been from the change in her schedule. Lily spread her hands across the bulge of her stomach as her own baby kicked hard against the lining of the womb.

It wouldn’t be long now, and she’d be able to stare at her own baby as she slept. The anticipation filled her with an eagerness like none she’d ever known before. A sweet yearning that made her arms ache to hold her own child in her arms. Yet the mother of this baby had put her child in a basket and walked away.

The situation wasn’t unheard of. In fact, she’d run into problems caused by child desertion more than once since she’d gone into the business of finding missing persons—some firsthand, others in her research. Young mothers who didn’t know where to turn. Emotionally unstable mothers who went over the edge and knew no other way to cry out for help. Uncaring mothers or those addicted to drugs or alcohol. Desperate mothers.

She hated to even imagine which category Tessa Ortiz fell into. Hated worse to think that Kyle might know things he wasn’t admitting. He seemed honest, deeply concerned, yet he was hesitant to do the thing most men would have considered first.

Find out if the baby was his.

Turning away, Lily walked to the phone, picked it up and punched in the number of a friend at police headquarters. Arrest records were always a good way to begin a search into a person’s past. She’d follow the paper trail and see if Kyle was merely a nice guy with a body like Adonis and the looks to rival Brad Pitt, or if Ashley’s caller had been right and he was a man to be avoided.

For the baby’s sake and for Ashley’s, she hoped he was the man he seemed. Unless her instincts were way off base, Ashley was already falling hard for the guy. Of course, Ashley would be the last to admit it.

* * *

“WE HAVE TO GIVE the baby a name,” Ashley said as they walked toward the baby section of the department store. “I can’t keep calling her sweetie.”

“We can call her Cupie.”

“Not me! How about Annie or Lucy? Or Janie?”

“I’m not good at this. You pick one.”

She thought for a minute, picturing the cherub face, the dark eyes. Deserted by her mother. “What about Casey?” she asked, turning down an aisle bordered by baby clothes. “It’s short for Casilda. The name means ‘unknown,’ and almost everything about her is unknown.”

“Casey?” He rolled the name off his tongue, then smiled. “I like it. Not that she’ll keep the name long. I’m still counting on her mother coming back for her—soon.”

“But until she does, she’s Casey. It fits.” She stopped and pulled an adorable pink frock from the rack and held it at arm’s length. “Look at this one. Lace and ruffles and tiny rows of smocking. We absolutely have to buy this for her.”

He fumbled for a price tag. When he found it, his mouth flew open. “Do you know how much this costs?”

“You get what you pay for.”

“Yeah, but I’m the one doing the paying.”

“But it’s so cute.”

“Cute? For that price, it should be a national treasure.”

“Wait until your daughter finds out you’re a cheapskate.”

“Don’t say daughter. It makes me nervous.” He held up the list Lily had made for him. “Nowhere on here does it say lace, ruffles and smocking at ridiculous prices.”

“It says clothes.”

“It says soft, sensible, unfettered clothes. Lace, ruffles and smocks are legally considered fetters.”

“We’re not in court, counselor. Just think how adorable Casey’s going to look when you show her off to all your friends.”

“She looks adorable in diapers. I have no intention of introducing her to my friends and you are having entirely too much fun spending my money.”

“I’m hanging out with you, Kyle. By no stretch of the imagination can that be called fun.” Except that it was. And not only because shopping was her second favorite pastime—right after work—but because, as much as she hated to admit it, Kyle was fun to be with, as long as they were only friends.

He pulled a pair of pajamas emblazoned with the Dallas Cowboys logo off the rack. “Now this is more like it.”

She stuck up her nose. “No self-respecting little angel would be caught sleeping in those.”

“Hey, watch your mouth. This is the Cowboys you’re talking about. Sacrilegious comments like that can get you thrown out of Texas.”

“I’ll take my chances. Let’s go for something a little more feminine.”

“Then how about these?” He exhibited his next choice.

She rested her hands on her hips. “What’s feminine about cowboys and horses?”

“Shucks, ma’am. I thought all women liked cowboys.”

“Hmm.” Cowboys and romance. Her mind jumped from babies to the Ranchers Association. “You might have hit on something, counselor.”

“Does that mean I should invest in a Stetson and a pair of boots?”

“Why would you?”

“To impress you, of course.”

“It really bothers you, doesn’t it, that I don’t chomp on your bait and fall at your feet like the other women in your life.”

“I’m a man. We have fragile egos and we hate rejection. Fortunately, I know you go to bed every night wishing I was there with you. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

“Yeah, hold on to that thought, take it to the bank with a hundred dollar bill and see if you can get five twenties for it.”

He smiled seductively. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.” He picked up a stuffed bear and tossed it to her. “If you like, I’ll buy this for you, give you something cuddly to sleep with on cold winter nights. Or leave the bear, and I’ll come over.”

“No, thanks. I have a blanket, and it doesn’t snore.”

“I don’t snore.”

“Then you must have had a wild animal sleeping with you on the couch last night.”

“I could have. You and Casey ran her off.”

“You poor dear.” She played a fake violin with her hands. “Could I give you music with that whine?” Turning away from him, she picked up a pair of pajamas in a buttery soft fabric patterned with sleeping kittens. “Entirely unfettered,” she said. “What do you think?”

He fingered the row of snaps that ran up and down the inside of both legs and across the crotch. “Am I supposed to do something with these when I dress her for bed?”

“That would be my guess.”

“You don’t suppose she can dress herself, do you?”

“In a few years.”

Kyle grimaced but took the pajamas from her and dropped them into the basket. Ashley kept shopping until they easily had enough outfits for him to change the baby’s clothes a half dozen times a day. “I say we move on to the next department.”

“What else is on the list?”

“Toys,” Kyle answered. “She likes to pull hair. Maybe we could get her a wig.”

Ashley led the way to a display of cuddly baby toys. “How about a doll?”

“Good idea, especially since you said the one her mother left with her wasn’t meant to be played with.”

“A doll? Hmm.” She put a finger to her chin as if she were giving the matter serious deliberation. “Like the blow-up ones you usually sleep with?”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You could change all that, neighbor. One night and I could melt you down to nothing more than liquid gold.”

“And then what would you do for a challenge?”

“Bathe a baby.” They spoke in unison as they passed a counter of plastic baby bathtubs.

They both dissolved in laughter before their gazes met in one heated instant. The mood changed from easy to awkward as quickly as if a cold wind had blown through the department store.

“Did I say something wrong?” Kyle asked, knowing full well what had just passed between them.

But she could play the game as well as he could. “No. Everything’s cool. Let’s just work our way down the list and get out of here.”

“So cool, your face is still red. You really need to loosen up, Ashley. All we did was laugh together. That’s not like having sex.”

“You just never give up, do you?”

He smiled a devastating smile. “Only when I have to.”

But the easy teasing mood was lost. Playing games with Kyle was playing with fire. Step over the line and she’d be involved with him. Get involved with him and she’d be sleeping with him. Sleep with him, and her life would become a complicated, convoluted, giant headache that aspirin wouldn’t touch.

They finished their shopping and Kyle paid for the purchases, handing her two of the lighter shopping bags as they hurried back to his sleek black sports car. They still needed to make a stop at the grocery store and one at the rent-all business to arrange for a crib to be delivered.

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