A boss’s marriage of convenience for his daughter’s sake. Only from USA TODAY bestselling author Catherine Mann!

Widower Xander Lourdes will do anything for his toddler daughter. But in a high-profile custody battle, his millions only go so far. What he really needs is a wife, in name only. And he has just the woman in mind...if only he weren’t so drawn to the beautiful redhead!

Zoologist Maureen Burke is still reeling from a painful past, but her boss’s proposal comes just as her work visa is expiring. If they’re not careful, the heat between her and Xander may destroy the no-strings situation they’re both counting on...

Maureen Burke danced with abandon.

Throwing herself into this pocket of time, matching the steps of this leanly athletic man with charismatic blue eyes and a sexual intensity as potent as his handsome face.

Brains. Brilliance. A body to die for and a loyal love of family.

Xander Lourdes was a good man.

But not her man. Only her boss.

And too soon, her work visa was due to expire. And officials had thus far denied her requests to extend it. She would have to go home to Ireland. To face all she’d run from, to leave this amazing place.

So Maureen breathed in the salty air mixed with the scent of burning wood from the bonfire and allowed herself to be swept away by the dance. By the look of this man with coal-black hair that spiked with the sea breeze and a hint of sweat. His square jaw was peppered with a five-o’clock shadow, his shoulders broad in his tuxedo, broad enough to carry the weight of the world.

Shivering with warm tingles that had nothing to do with any bonfire or humid night, she felt the attraction radiating off him the same way it heated her. She’d sensed the draw before, but his grief was so well-known she hadn’t wanted to wade into those complicated waters.

Maureen wasn’t interested in a relationship, but maybe if she was leaving she could indulge . . .

* * *

The Boss’s Baby Arrangement is part of Mills & Boon Desire’s No.1 bestselling series, Billionaires and Babies: Powerful men...wrapped around their babies’ little fingers.

Dear Reader,

I am an animal rescuer. It’s not something I do. It’s who I am. For years, I’ve been active in volunteering at local shelters, but only in the past couple of years realized the time had come to be a part of starting a 501(c)(3) animal rescue. Little did I realize what an exciting, overwhelming, sometimes heartbreaking, but ultimately rewarding adventure that would be.

Needless to say, my work in animal rescue and my years in Florida inspired The Boss’s Baby Arrangement. A long drive through the magnificently exotic Florida Keys had me quickly convinced I absolutely had to set some stories there. And from that came the idea for the Lourdes Brothers of Key Largo, a family dedicated to saving and expanding a Florida wildlife preserve.

As my fingers flew across the keyboard, I soon found the animals weren’t the only wild creatures to be found in Key Largo! I hope you enjoy the sexy Lourdes brothers and each man’s journey to find the right woman.

Cheers,

www.CatherineMann.com

The Boss’s Baby Arrangement

Catherine Mann

www.millsandboon.co.uk

USA TODAY bestseller and RITA® Award winner CATHERINE MANN has penned over fifty novels, released in more than twenty countries. After years as a military spouse bringing up four children, Catherine is now a snowbird—sorta—splitting time between the Florida beach and somewhat chillier beach in her home state of South Carolina. The nest didn’t stay empty long, though, as Catherine is an active board member for the Sunshine State Animal Rescue. www.CatherineMann.com

To Jeanette Vigliotti, a brilliant professor and a dear friend. So happy you are an unofficial part of our family!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Extract

Copyright

One

Xander Lourdes had loved and lost his soul mate.

Parked in an Adirondack chair by the Gulf waters, he knew deep in his gut he wouldn’t find that again. Even after a year, his wife’s death from an aneurysm cut Xander to the core, but he’d been working like hell to find solace as best he could in honoring her memory every way possible.

By parenting their baby girl.

And by revitalizing a wildlife refuge in his dead wife’s beloved Florida Keys. He’d invested half of his personal fortune to revitalize this place. No great hardship as far as the executive angle went. He thrived on that part.

Although the fundraising parties? Like tonight? The endless schmoozing? A real stick in the eye. His preferred way to spend an evening was with his daughter, Rose, or in the office. These social gatherings tried his patience. For a moment his mind wandered back to how his wife had always stabilized and smoothed functions like this for him. She’d been a natural complement for him.

For his wife’s memory, he endured the beachside gala.

Xander drank tonic water, half listening to the state politician rambling beside him about a childhood pet parakeet. Small talk had never been Xander’s thing.

Waves crashed on the shore and a bonfire crackled at the high-end outdoor fundraiser. Tiki torch flames flickered, reaching toward the starlit sky as a steel-drum band played. Marshes swooshed with softer sounds in the distance, grasses and nocturnal creatures creating a night ensemble all their own.

A lengthy buffet table and bar kept the partygoers well stocked by the waitstaff currently weaving through the crowd of partiers talking or dancing barefoot on the sand, silk and diamonds glinting in the moonlight, tuxedo ties loosened. His brother—the head veterinarian—and his sexy-as-hell lady assistant led the dancing. The redheaded zoologist was just the sort to keep the party going.

Xander’s wife, Terri, hadn’t been much for dancing, but she’d loved music. When they’d found out she was pregnant, her first reaction was to track down a special device to play classical music for their baby in the womb. Music, she believed, could change a person’s life—convey emotions stronger than any other type of language. This belief had also prompted her to find compilations for the animals at the refuge to soothe them. Terri had been his calm and support since they were in first grade, when Xander had been labeled an outcast for already performing three grade levels above the others.

They’d been inseparable since she approached him on the playground that first day and he’d missed her every minute since she’d died.

His daughter—Terri’s legacy—meant everything to him.

Washing down the lump in his throat with another swallow of tonic water, he nodded at something or other the politician said about expanding the bird care portion of the refuge’s clinic. Xander tucked the info away for later. At least he had the executive power and the portfolio to make that happen, to control something in a world that had denied him control over so damn much.

There was no space tonight for thinking about that now. It wouldn’t help the cause his wife had devoted so much time and energy to.

Her volunteer work here had been important to her. When Xander’s brother had started at the refuge, Terri’s interest ignited. And then she’d discovered her passion, starting foundations to try to channel more funds into reviving the place.

His brother, Easton, oversaw the medical aspect of the refuge as an exotic animal veterinarian with a staff of techs and zoologists. Easton had worked here back in the early days, more concerned with animals than with the money he could make at a bigger, tourist-trap outfit. Xander had supported the refuge’s efforts with donations, but now his interest was more personal and yet also more professional. He’d been elected chairman of the board of directors. Terri had wanted him to take that role for years and now she would never know he’d fulfilled her hope that he could grow the refuge.

Damn.

He’d had enough of small talk.

Xander shoved out of his chair. “I appreciate your taking the time to chat and attend. If you’ll excuse me, I need to attend to some business, but my brother would thoroughly enjoy talking to you about those clinic additions. I’ll get Easton off the dance floor for you.”

Making a beeline for his brother who was still dancing with the fire-headed zoologist, Xander shouldered through the partiers, nodding and waving without stopping until he reached the throng of dancers. He tapped Easton on the shoulder.

“Mind if I cut in, brother?”

His eccentric younger brother turned on his heel, his forehead creased, a trickle of sweat beading on his brow. “What’s up?”

Easton wore the Prada suit Xander had made sure was delivered for the occasion, but his brother hadn’t bothered with a tie. No surprise. Dr. Easton Lourdes had always been more comfortable in khakis and T-shirts.

Xander tipped his head toward the politician still knocking back mixed drinks. “Donor at your nine o’clock. Needs your expertise on possible additions to the aviary in the clinic.”

His brother’s forehead smoothed and his face folded in a smile, all charm. “Can do.” He clapped Xander on the shoulder. “Thanks again for this shindig. It’s going to pay off big for the place.”

Easton charged past like a man on a mission, leaving his dance partner on the floor alone.

Maureen Burke.

An auburn-haired bombshell, full of brains and energy. She was an Irish native who’d spent much of her life in the States, so her brogue was light. Her degree in zoology along with her rescue experience made her the perfect second-in-command for his brother. Lucky for them she’d received her work visa at exactly the right time. She was extroverted, but also all business. And a woman Xander didn’t have to worry was out to take advantage of the Lourdes family fortune passed down for generations. A portfolio Xander had doubled and that women were attracted to when it came to dating Easton.

Maureen was an individual guaranteed not to mistake Easton’s attention as interest and an invitation to leave ten voice mails. Maureen was much like Xander when it came to romance.

Not interested.

He’d learned she was divorced and, from her standoffish demeanor just beneath that plush-lipped smile, he got the impression it hadn’t been a pleasant split. No doubt the man had been an idiot to let such a gorgeous, intelligent woman walk out of his life.

Xander extended his hand. “Sorry to have stolen your dance partner. I had to send my brother off. Dance with me.”

“Dance? With you?” She swept her long red curls back over her shoulder, her face flushed from heat and exertion.

“Is that such a strange request?”

“I didn’t expect you to know how to dance, much less to know an Irish jig.”

He winced. “An Irish jig?”

She grinned impishly, gesturing to the stage with elegant hands, nails short but painted a glittering gold for the party. “Next up on the band’s request list. Your brother double-dog dared me.”

Double-dog dare? No wonder Easton had left the dance floor so easily and with a grin on his face. He’d set Xander up.

And Xander wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. “I’m a man of many talents. Our mother insisted we boys attend dance classes as teens.” He braced his shoulders. “Whatever I don’t know, you can teach me.”

“Good for your mama.”

“And that dance?”

She propped a hand on her hip, her whispery yellow gown hitching along curves as she eyed him with emerald-green eyes. Finally she shrugged. “Sure. Why not? I would like to see the big boss give it a try.”

“Remember, you’ll have to help me brush up on the steps.”

“We’ll keep the moves simple.” She extended an elbow. “Steel drums playing Irish tunes is a first, not too intricate but still fun.”

He bowed before hooking elbows with her. Damn. He’d forgotten how soft a woman’s skin felt. Clearing his throat, he mimicked her steps, mixed with a periodic spin. Her hair fanned across his chest as she whipped around.

His body reacted to the simple contact.

Had to be lack of sex messing with his brain.

But holy hell, the dance seemed to go on forever with his blood pressure ramping by the second until, thank God, the band segued to a slower tune. And still he didn’t step away. In spite of the twinge of guilt he felt over the surprise attraction, he extended his hands and took her into his arms for a more traditional dance. The scent of citrus—lemons and grapefruit—teased his nose like an aphrodisiac.

Maybe the Irish dance hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

He searched for something to say to distract himself from the gentle give of her under his touch, the occasional skim of her body against his. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I enjoy anything that makes money for the refuge.” Her eyes glimmered in the starlight, loose curls feathering over the top of his hand along her waist. “I love my work here.”

“Your devotion is admirable.”

“Thank you.” Her face flashed with indecision.

“You don’t believe me?”

“It’s not that. But let’s not talk shop right now and spoil the moment. We can talk tomorrow.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I have an appointment to see you.”

“You do? I don’t recall seeing your name on my calendar.”

“Not all of us have a personal assistant to keep track of our schedules.”

“Am I being insulted?” He had a secretary, but not a personal assistant who followed him around all day like his brother did. Although his brother was known to be an absentminded-professor type.

“No insult meant at all. You’ve made a great future for yourself and for Rose. It’s clear you didn’t ride off your family fortune, but increased it. That’s commendable.” She shook her head, sending her curls prancing along his hand again. “I’m just frustrated. Ignore me. Dance.”

Her order came just as the band picked up with a sultry Latin beat.

* * *

Maureen Burke danced with abandon.

Throwing herself into this pocket of time, matching the steps of this leanly athletic man with charismatic blue eyes and a sexual intensity as potent as his handsome face.

Brains. Brilliance. A body to die for and a loyal love of family.

Xander Lourdes was a good man.

But not her man.

So Maureen allowed herself to dance with the abandon she never would have dared otherwise. Not now. Not after all she’d been through.

She breathed in the salty air mixed with the scent of fresh burning wood from the bonfire. What a multifaceted word. Abandon. She danced with freedom. But she’d also been abandoned and that hadn’t felt like freedom at all. The pain. The grief. Being given up on for no good reason other than the fact she wasn’t a good fit for her ex-husband’s life after all she had put up with. After she’d ignored the urgings of so many friends to leave him and his emotional abuse.

Rejection.

She’d known they had problems. Maureen was always willing to work at broken things. Hell, her never-say-die nature made her compatible and adept in a wildlife refuge. Vows meant something to her. She’d always expected if she ever got divorced it would be because of a major event—physical abuse or drugs. But for nothing more than “I love you but I can’t live with you”? Like she’d filled their home with some toxic substance.

More of that negative thinking born of years of his tearing her down until finally—thank God, finally—she’d wised up and realized he was, in fact, the toxin.

So she’d let him go and left their home full of insults and negativity. Hell, she’d left County Cork to get as far away from him and the ache as possible. It wasn’t like she had family or anything else holding her back. Her parents were dead and her marriage was a disaster. There’d been nowhere else for her to go except to the US and accept the job in a field of work she loved so much.

She allowed herself to be swept away by the dance, the music and the pulse of the drums pushing through her veins with every heartbeat, faster and faster. Arching timbres of the steel drums urged her to absorb every fiber of this moment.

Too soon, her work visa was due to expire, and officials had thus far denied her requests to extend it. She would have to go home. To face all she’d run from, to leave this amazing place where abandon meant beauty and exuberance. Freedom.

The freedom to dance with a handsome man and not to worry that her husband would accuse her of flirting. As if she would run off with any man who looked her way. How long had it taken her to realize his remarks were born of his own insecurities, not her behavior?

She was free to look now, though, at this man with coal-black hair that spiked with the sea breeze and a hint of sweat. His square jaw was peppered with a five-o’clock shadow, his shoulders broad in his tuxedo, broad enough to carry the weight of the world.

Shivering with warm tingles that had nothing to do with any bonfire or humid night, she could feel the attraction radiating off him the same way it heated in her. She’d sensed the draw before but his grief was so well known she hadn’t wanted to wade into those complicated waters. But with her return to home looming...

Maureen wasn’t interested in a relationship, but maybe if she was leaving she could indulge in—

Suddenly his attention was yanked from her. He reached into his tuxedo pocket and pulled out his cell phone and read the text.

Tension pulsed through his jaw, the once-relaxed, half-cocked smile replaced instantly with a serious expression. “It’s the nanny. My daughter’s running a fever. I have to go.”

And without another word, he was gone and she knew she was gone from his thoughts. That little girl was the world to him. Everyone knew that, as well as how deeply he grieved for his dead wife.

All of which merely made him more attractive.

More dangerous to her peace of mind.

* * *

As the morning sun started to spray rays through the night, Xander rubbed the grit from the corners of his eyes, stifling a yawn from the lack of sleep after staying up all night to keep watch over Rose. He’d taken her straight to the emergency room and learned she had an ear infection. Even with the doctor’s reassurance, antibiotics and fever-reducing meds, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Still wearing his tuxedo, he sat in a rocker by her bed. Light brown curls that were slightly sticky with sweat framed her face, her cherubic mouth in a little cupid’s bow as she puffed baby breaths. Each rise and fall of her chest reassured him she was okay, a fundamentally healthy sixteen-month-old child who had a basic, treatable ear infection.

A vaporizer pumped moisture into the nursery, which was decorated in white, green and pink, with flowers Terri had called cabbage roses, in honor of their daughter’s name. A matching daybed had been included in the room for those nights they just enjoyed watching her breathe. Or for the nanny—Elenora—to rest when needed. A glider was set up in the corner and his mind flooded with memories of Terri nursing their baby in the chair, her face so full of maternal love and hope, all of which had been poured into putting this room together. A week before Rose was born, he and Terri had sat on the daybed, his arms wrapped around her swollen belly, as they’d dreamed of what their child would look like. What she would grow up to accomplish. So many dreams.

Now his brother catnapped in that same space, as he so often did these days, quirky as hell and a never-ending source of support. An image of his brother dancing with Maureen Burke flash through Xander’s mind. His brother hadn’t had much of a social life lately, either, and even knowing Xander would help Easton if the roles were reversed didn’t make it fair to steal so much of his brother’s time.

Xander pushed up from the rocker and shook his brother lightly by the shoulder. “Hey, Easton,” he said softly. “Wake up, dude. You should head on back to your room.”

His brother’s eyes blinked open slowly. “Rose?”

“Much better. Her fever’s down. I’ll still take her to her regular pediatrician for a follow-up, but I think she’s going to be fine. She’s past needing both of us to keep watch.”

“I was sleeping fine, ya know.” His lanky brother swung his legs off the bed.

“Folded up like pretzel. Your neck would have been in knots. But thank you. Really. You don’t have to stick around. I know you have to work.”

“So do you,” Easton said pointedly, raking his fingers through his hair.

“She’s my kid.”

“And you’re my brother.” His eyes fixed on Xander’s. Steady and loyal. They’d always been different but close since their parents traveled the world with little thought of any permanent home or the consistency their kids needed to build friendships. They relied on each other. Even more so after their father died and their mother continued her world traveling ways, always looking for the next adventure in the next country rather than connecting with her children.

And, thank God, Xander’s brother could work at any wildlife refuge around the world and he’d chosen to stay on here and help him. That meant the world to him. Easton had done special projects here for Terri, but this place wasn’t on the scale of the other places where he could work.

Hell, it wasn’t on Xander’s scale. But for Terri, for Rose, too, he would put this place on the map. Whatever it took. This was his wife’s legacy to their child.

“Thank you.”

“No thanks needed other than getting this little one better.” Easton smoothed an affectionate hand over his niece’s head. “Well...and a bottle of top-shelf tequila to drink at sunset.”

“Put it on the list.” A long list, all he owed his brother. But he would find a way to pay him back someday. A kick of guilt pushed him to say, “If you need to move on to a larger job—”

“I wouldn’t be needed. Being needed, making a difference—” he shrugged, eyes flicking to Rose “—that’s what life’s all about.”

Xander swallowed hard. Terri had said that to him more than once. God, he missed her. “Fair enough.” And before he even realized the thought had crossed his mind, he stopped his brother at the door. “Might you really be sticking around because of a certain red-haired zoologist?”

“Maureen?” Easton said with such incredulity there was no doubting the truthfulness of his statement. “No. Absolutely not. There’s nothing going on between the two of us. We’re too much alike.”

Laughing lightly, he shook his head, scratched the back of his neck and chuckled again on his way out the door, leaving Xander more confused than ever. Not because of his brother’s denial.

But because of his own relief.

Two

Maureen listened for the familiar click-click of her key in her beach cabana door. The double click meant that the teal-colored cabana was, indeed, actually locked. One click meant a well-targeted gust of wind would knock the door in. She would miss these sorts of quirks when she moved out of the brightly painted cabana and tropical Key Largo.

But that wasn’t happening yet. Shoving the thought aside, Maureen adjusted her satchel filled with notebooks and began her commute to work. A leisurely five-minute walk.

And today, with the sunshine warming her fair skin, she was content to take in her surroundings as she made her way to the Lourdeses’ home residence, built on property they’d bought at the edge of the refuge. Sauntering to the main house—a white beach mansion that always reminded her of the crest of a wave in a storm—she let her mind wander.

Absently, she watched volunteers from town and from farther away gather and disperse on the dock on-site. Even from here, she could hear the bustle of their excitement as the crowd moved toward the fenced and screened areas beneath the white beach mansion on signature Florida Keys stilts.

Eyeing more volunteers who were gathering by the screened areas where recovering animals were kept, she scanned the zone for Easton. Not a trace of him.

Or Xander. After last night, her thoughts tilted back to the dance. To his warm touch, the way he looked after his daughter. The kind of person he was. And those damn blue eyes that cut her to the quick, pierced right through her.

She’d spent most of the night attempting to navigate her sudden attraction to Xander. Not that it really mattered. Instead of admitting that the dance echoed in her dreams last night, she attempted to turn her attention to more practical matters like the school group that was due at the refuge shortly.

Though located on Key Largo, the refuge’s secluded location meant tourists didn’t wander in haphazardly. The public could access the refuge only through a prearranged guided tour. This policy was one Maureen loved. It made the wildlife refuge into her own kind of sanctuary, one that often felt independent of the tourist traps and straw-hat community of the main part of town. The limited public interaction allowed her to enjoy the mingled scent of salt and animals. There was truly a wildness here that called to some latent part of Maureen’s soul.

Surveying her watch, she noted the time. The school children would be here soon. That meant she had to find Easton quickly.

And if she happened to see Xander...well, that’d be just fine by her.

Though, if she were being honest, the thought of accidently on purpose running into him made her giddy. Flashes of last night’s dance pulsed in her mind’s eye again.

What would she do if she actually ran into him anyway? Running a hand through her ringlet hair, Maureen stifled a sigh as Xander came into view.

Well, she certainly was committed now. At least, committed to some harmless small talk with a man who had pushed her sense of wild abandon into the realm worthy of Irish bards.

Biting the inside of her lip, she dropped her hands to her sides. Xander’s smooth walk was uninterrupted as he pulled on his suit coat.

He’d built an office extension onto the refuge when Terri, his wife, had started to volunteer. Terri had fallen in love with Key Largo and her volunteer work. Three years ago, when Maureen had just started with the refuge, Xander had commuted back and forth to Miami for work, using the office at the refuge as a satellite. After Terri passed away, he’d moved here full-time.

Maureen’s thoughts lingered for a moment on her memories of Terri. She had been a quiet, gentle woman. It hadn’t taken Maureen very long to figure out Terri’s heart was bigger than most, and that her kindness and empathy were genuine. Wounded creatures were comforted by Terri’s presence. When Terri had become pregnant, she’d begrudgingly performed office work, though Maureen could tell she’d rather have been among the animals.

After she’d passed away, Xander had poured himself into the refuge. In the beginning, Maureen felt like Xander was trying to find some other piece of Terri here.

Now she felt like the refuge had woven its charm for him, too.

Shrugging his suit coat into place, Xander jogged down the long wooden stairway leading from the home on stilts. “Maureen?”

He said it as if he didn’t recognize her. But, um, well, maybe she had taken more time with her appearance today. Jeans with a loose-fitting T-shirt was her go-to outfit. Minimal makeup—maybe a wave of a mascara wand over her lashes, a pale lip gloss, her wavy hair confined in a high ponytail. But today she looked considerably...nicer. Her fitted shirt revealed curves, and she’d deepened her lip color, daring a deeper nude that made her seem a bit more put-together, a bit more...well, sultry.

“Of course. Do I look that different?” Maureen’s tongue skimmed the back of her teeth, causing her to smile awkwardly, hands flying to a stray strand of her hair that fell in a gentle wave against her chest. So much for nonchalance.

His eyes flicked over her. Slowly—as if he was trying to work something out.

“From last night at the party? Yes.”

“We have a group of schoolchildren coming in for a tour this morning,” she explained quickly. “They’re due any minute and we’re shorthanded. Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Tilting her head to the side, she squinted at him. His top lip curled up, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. Raising his eyebrows, he took a step closer, winking at her, more lighthearted than she could remember him being in the past. “Shouldn’t you, Maureen?”

The smell of pine drifted into the space between them. Xander’s lip was still playfully curled up and she felt a thrill run down her spine as she stared back at him, noticing the way his hair was still damp from a recent shower. Her thoughts stopped there. It felt like ages before she responded.

“I’m looking for your brother.” How did Xander manage to keep from perspiring out here in a suit when she already felt like she was melting in a sauna?

Or melting from a different kind of heat.

“Easton’s running late. We were both up late last night with Rose.”

“You two took care of her?”

“Why is that a surprise?”

“I just assumed someone of your means would lean more on the nanny or call her grandparents.”

“My father has passed away and my mother, uh, travels a lot. As for my former in-laws, they can be rather...overpowering. And Elenora needs her rest to be on the top of her game watching Rose while I’m at work. I’m her father. And my brother worried, as well. He also pitched in early this morning when I needed to snag a shower for work. He should be down soon.” Xander gestured toward the pathway leading to the offices. “Shall we go?”

She stepped forward, aware of him in step beside her, his shoulder almost brushing hers on the narrow, sandy path. “That’s admirable of both of you to take care of Rose. How is she doing?”

“Ear infection, according to the emergency room doctor. I’ll be taking her to her pediatrician to follow up today.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Maureen’s thoughts drifted to Rose—the kind of child that adults fawned over. She was sweet, affectionate and filled with life. Maureen had seen testament to that sprinkled all over his office in the form of finger paintings and photographs. A shrine to childhood and a dedicated father.

Maureen’s own interaction with Rose always left a smile on her face. With tiny fingers, Rose would reach up to play with Maureen’s leather bracelet, touching it carefully as if it was a magical totem. Out of habit, Maureen’s own hand flew to her leather bracelet. Feeling the worn leather, she felt assured. This bracelet had been everywhere with her. A certifying stamp of endurance. “Thanks. But I think we’ve got it covered. Although I have to admit, it’s ironic that it took me and my brother to do one woman’s job.”

“And somewhere women are sighing.”

He laughed.

In the pit of her stomach her nerves became bramble-twisted, much like the palm fronds blowing and tangled by the wind. Those damn blue eyes—they disarmed her senses, unsettling her more than any sounds from wild creatures chattering. Especially today as his gaze darted from her eyes to her lips.

A faint tautness pulled at his cheeks.

Warmth crept up her neck, threatening to flood her cheeks with a schoolgirl blush. Get it together, her inner voice scolded. Taking the cue from her sensibility, she drew in a deep breath and straightened her blouse.

“You’re needed here to take care of animals.” Dropping his gaze, he nodded his head. The momentary flicker of attraction melted off his expression. Xander’s tone and eyes returned to their normal bulldog, businessman-slate stare.

“Of course. She’s your child and doesn’t really know me well.” She held up her hands. “I’ve overstepped and I apologize.”

He sighed. “I apologize. You’re being helpful and I’m being an ass. I have a reputation for that.”

She stayed silent.

“Not going to deny it?” His lip twitched upward.

“I wouldn’t dare call the big boss anything so insulting.”

He laughed. Hard. “You are surprising me left and right. Not at all how I’ve perceived you in the past.”

“You thought about me?” Words tumbled out of her mouth before she thought better of them.

“As your employer.”

“That makes things tricky. And you’ve had...a difficult year.”

“Fourteen months. It’s been fourteen months and three days.” His voice lost an octave, felt like a whisper on a breeze.

“I’m so very sorry for your loss.” An ache of deep empathy pushed hard against her chest. She’d seen the love Xander and Terri had for each other, a love she’d hoped to have in her own marriage.

“Me, too.” His eyes met hers as a gust of island breeze carried the scent of flowers and the sound of distant motors. “Rose means everything to me. She’s all I have left of Terri. I would do anything for my daughter but sometimes—” he thrust a hand through his tousled hair, his head tipping back as he looked up toward the sky “—I just feel like I’m short-changing her.”

She touched his arm lightly. “You’re tired, like any parent. And you’re an amazing father, here for her, along with your brother. And Rose truly has a wonderful nanny. Elenora genuinely cares about her.”

“Of course she does. I can see the affection they share.” Was this the kind of thing she was supposed to say to a man baring his heart and acknowledging his pain? Maureen found the familiar spot in her bottom lip and chewed, wishing she could say something—anything—to take the hurt out of his voice.

“I spend time with her every day.”

“I know that, too.” She hadn’t realized how much she’d noticed about his routine before. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. It’s clear you love her.”

“I do. She’s everything to me.”

“She’s a lucky little girl.”

The space between them thinned and now, shoulder to shoulder, she noticed how the pine soap pushed against a symphony of coffee beans and mint.

Turning to face her, his blue eyes sparked. He took half a step toward her, his own lips parted slightly as he searched her expression.

She stopped chewing her lip and tilted her head to the side to stare back at him, stomach fluttering the longer his gaze held hers.

“Thank you for your help last night organizing the gala.”

“Thank you for the dance last night.”

They stayed like that for a few moments until the buses were pulling up and pulling them back into reality. Away from whatever had electrified the air between them.

* * *

A full day in the office left Xander desperate for some salt air and sunshine. He’d worked, taken Rose to the pediatrician and had just settled her down for a nap. He’d read her a story before she drifted off to sleep. With the nanny on-call, he’d decided to take his brother up on his invitation to check the water samples from the nearby swamp.

He tried to convince himself he was only going out on the boat to become better acquainted with the procedures so he’d be of more use at the next fund-raiser. The fact that Maureen also was on the boat was pure coincidence. Xander tried to tell himself that was an accurate representation of reality.

His attempt to delude himself, however, was a hard sell, it turned out. He couldn’t deny he wanted to be there. He’d looked forward to seeing Maureen and finding out if this attraction to her was just an anomaly.

Easton, his assistant, Portia, Maureen and Xander were all in swimsuits as the low-slung boat putted its way through the water. He tried not to notice Maureen’s toned legs and the way her lavender one-piece swimsuit hugged her curves. Even her messy wind-whipped ponytail was sexy as hell.

Maureen was also a stark contrast to Portia Soto, his brother’s assistant. Portia was also in a one-piece bathing suit, but a long patterned sarong swaddled her body. Portia embodied prim and proper. No detail was too minute to escape her notice. Portia adjusted her oversize hat and sunglasses, though she looked anxious.

So far, Xander couldn’t understand why Portia had taken the job as his brother’s assistant. She was efficient and talented. Of that, there was no doubt. But she seemed to be timid the majority of the time, not necessarily the sort that came immediately to mind when thinking of staff for a wild animal refuge.

Easton sat beside his assistant, who’d plastered herself in the seat with her back pressed against it, her fingers gripping the edge. Poor thing. She looked absolutely miserable and terrified. And while Xander’s first instinct was to talk to the trembling woman, he couldn’t help how his eyes seemed to always find their way back to Maureen.

“Would you like to return to the shore? You don’t have to come with us every time,” Maureen said gently, touching Portia’s arm.

“The doctor relies on my notes.” She nodded to the bag in her hand, though Portia’s eyes darted nervously to the brackish water and swamp animals outside. Clearly this job pushed her limits and yet here she was, anyway.

“They are helpful,” he said absently while leaning over the edge. Wind tore through the boat, pressing Easton’s blue swim trunks and white T-shirt hard against his body.

Maureen clucked her tongue. “A gator’s going to bite your arm off one day.”

Portia turned green.

Maureen’s brogue lilted like the waves. “I’m only teasing.”

Portia looked down and eased one hand free to pull her recorder from her waterproof bag. She began mumbling notes into the mike.

Maureen angled down to Easton. “I think she’s plotting your demise.”

“Possibly. But we have an understanding. We both need each other.”

“It just seems strange she would take a job that scares her silly.”

“I pay well. Not many enjoy this. I trust her and that counts for a helluva lot. Besides, I’m convinced she has an adventurous spirit buried underneath all that starch.” His grin was wicked as he turned to face Maureen. That was his brother all right—always pushing people’s comfort levels and making them laugh.

“If she doesn’t have a heart attack first.”

Portia chimed in, hands once again finding the edge of the seat cushions for stability. “Or die from some flesh-eating bacteria.”

Easton laughed, his chuckles echoing over the water before he returned to his work again.

Xander caught his brother’s eye before Easton turned to face Maureen. Something sly passed over Easton’s expression and he quickly raised his brow to Xander before fully focusing on Maureen. “I’m damn sorry you’re going to be leaving us.”

“Me, too. This is a dream job.” Her lithe arm extended out to the impossible shade of green water that surrounded them. Her attention seemed fixed on an imaginary spot on the horizon and Xander followed her gaze, trying to imagine what she was thinking about. Did she want to go home? It certainly didn’t seem so from her crestfallen face, and she had asked him to look into extending the visa to complete her work here. He hadn’t heard back, but then, that news would have gone to her and apparently the answer hadn’t been positive.

Still, her face showed such distress, Xander couldn’t help but wonder if it was about more than work.

Easton let out a low whistle. “And you’re sure there’s no way to extend the work visa?”

“It’s been denied. Your brother even had the company lawyers review my paperwork to help, but with things tightening down regarding immigration, my request has been denied...” Maureen glanced back at Xander, her eyes as green as the crystal waters.

Did she know he could hear them?

He did his best to seem disinterested and aloof, channeling years of cutthroat business meetings to school his features into a mask of neutrality.

Easton’s eyes momentarily flicked back to Xander. For a brief moment he swore Easton’s head nodded slightly. Was that a sign to pay attention? What did his brother have planned?

“Xander has a lot of his time and energy—and heart—invested in this place.”

“That, he does. I was surprised to see him dance last night.”

“Who would have thought he could dance a jig?” Easton winked over his shoulder at his brother, making it clear he knew full well his brother could hear every word. “Who would have thought he would dance at all? That has certainly been in question since Terri died.”

“She was a lovely lady.” Maureen’s voice meshed into the sounds of the nearby birds.

Xander tried not to look desperate as he strained to hear the rest of the conversation.

“She was. We all miss her. Her parents do, too, obviously. We always will. But I can’t help hoping my brother will find a way to move on.” Easton’s lips had thinned into a smile and he stuck her with a knowing glance.

Maureen shook her head and tendrils of red hair fell out of her loose ponytail. “You’re reading too much into a dance.”

“I didn’t say a thing. You did.” A taunting, brotherly tone entered Easton’s voice. He lifted up his hands to her, palms out in an exaggeration of placation.

“I’m definitely not making a move on your brother.” The words were jagged on her tongue. Even from his seat, Xander could see pain jutting into Maureen’s normally fair, bubbly features.

“Again, I didn’t say that. You did.”

“I’m divorced.”

“I know.”

Shrugging her shoulder, she leaned against the rail of the boat. “It was ugly.”

“So very sorry to hear that.”

“The past is past. I’m focused on my present and my job.”

“Is that the reason you’re so determined to stay here? Because your ex is back home?” Easton’s eyes flicked back to Xander who pretended not to notice. But the truth was that his heart pulsated in his chest as he continued to listen to their conversation. A bad divorce? He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened.

“Staying here is certainly easier. Fresh starts often are.”

“It’s not over yet.”

“I appreciate your optimism.”

“Um, hello?” Portia’s voice rang out, urgency coloring every syllable. “Um, Doctor?”

“Yes, Ms. Soto?” Easton turned to face her.

“I’m getting seasick.” And with that, Portia pulled herself up to the railing, turned a particularly sunset shade of scarlet and hurled the contents of her stomach overboard.

Xander reacted, setting their course back to the dock. Portia needed land, and fast.

They weren’t too far away. Within minutes the dock was in sight.

And so were Xander’s in-laws. It was never a good sign when they showed up from Miami unannounced. A pit knotted in his stomach and he felt his jaw tighten and clench.

Xander leaped off the boat as soon as it stabilized and helped Portia out. She’d gone ghost-pale and her hands were clammy—clearly she was much more seasick than she’d let on. Once Portia’s feet were on solid ground, she covered her mouth, nodded politely at Xander’s in-laws and dashed up to the house, probably stifling the urge to hurl the whole way.

His in-laws surveyed the landscape with eyes that revealed complete disgust. His mother-in-law’s gaze followed Portia up the slope to the house. Delilah’s brow arched, a silent conversation seemed to unfold between her and Jake, Xander’s father-in-law.

So the verdict was out on this place. They’d hated it and did little to try to disguise that.

Jake looked at Portia’s disappearing form and then back at Xander. Disapproval danced in his gaze.

Xander stifled the urge to grind his teeth. Did they actually think he was interested in Portia? And was that really any of their business to pass judgment on his dating life? Of course they all missed Terri, but she was gone, for over a year, and that was the tragic reality.

Besides, he wanted to tell them they had it all wrong, anyway. Portia wasn’t his type. Xander didn’t know why they’d assumed she’d be the kind of woman he was interested in, and he didn’t want them to believe he hadn’t loved their daughter with his whole soul. Xander certainly didn’t want them to think she’d been so easily replaced.

The protest nearly formed against his tongue when reality jabbed him. Portia was polished, quiet, reserved... As far as types went, she shared a lot of Terri’s qualities.

But Portia had never crossed his mind. Not once. Not in passing. There was no draw to her. Not like there was to the fiery Maureen. Xander’s eyes flicked quickly to Maureen. She was helping Easton dock the boat.

Turning his attention back to his in-laws, he surveyed them, trying to anticipate the reason for this unannounced visit.

Jake and Delilah Goodwin were good people, if intrusive. They were what the news media deemed helicopter parents.

Xander had always imagined their hovering had everything to do with the circumstances of Terri’s birth. For years Delilah and Jake had tried to conceive but never could. The doctors had told them it was practically impossible for them to become pregnant. But somehow Delilah had been able to conceive and carry Terri to full term. The miracle child. Their only child.

Terri had been pampered and sheltered her whole life. They’d treated Terri like spun glass, like a fragile thing that needed protection from everything and everyone. Now having a daughter of his own, he understood the motivation and desire, but Jake and Delilah had taken hovering to its extreme.

Xander watched as Jake gave Delilah’s hand a quick squeeze. His business instincts told him the gesture was one of support. He understood that. Terri’s death had changed everything.

Delilah straightened her heirloom pearls on her neck, the only piece of jewelry that spoke to their enormous wealth. They were kind people, but they were used to dictating orders. They weren’t the compromising type.

“We heard our grandchild is ill and you’re out here. Who’s watching her?” Jack said, his voice even but stern.

“She’s napping while Elenora watches over her. Rose has an ear infection. We went to the emergency room last night and the pediatrician today.”

Laying a manicured hand to her chest, Delilah stiffened. “She could have a relative watching her.”

“She does. Her father and her uncle.” Xander kept his tone neutral, doing his best to remember that they didn’t mean to be insulting or accusatory.

“Both of whom are out partying on a boat,” Delilah continued, her voice shrill and unforgiving.

The correction was gentle but necessary. He wished Terri was here to help him navigate this. “Working.”

“Okay, then. Working. She could have her grandmother all day.”

“I’m appreciative of your offer to help. Who told you about the ear infection?”

Delilah waved her hand dismissively. “Someone on the staff when I phoned to say hello.”

To check up, more likely. His in-laws made no secret of the fact that they wanted custody of Rose. He would feel a lot more comfortable welcoming them for visits if they weren’t taking notes and plotting the whole damn time.

He ground his teeth and tried to be as reasonable as possible. He didn’t want to upset his daughter’s world by having her taken from her own father. “Rose will be awake in about an hour. If you would like to stay for lunch, you can play with her when she wakes.”

He glanced over his shoulder, checking on his brother and Maureen. Easton was tying the boat off along the dock while Maureen gathered up the samples. But that wasn’t what caught Xander’s eye. A massive gator swam in the dock area and bumped into the boat. The low-slung boat was tipped off balance and his eyes darted to Maureen, who was leaning over the railing.

Three

Water swirled around Maureen as she plummeted into the murky bay off the side of the boat.

Swimming had never been an issue for her. In Ireland, her childhood adventures had often unfolded in rivers and lakes. The water called to her. When she was young, she’d hold her breath and dive in undaunted. She’d even told her parents she was searching for kelpie—mythical Irish water horses. They were dangerous creatures of legend—sometimes drowning mortals for sport. At eight, Maureen was convinced that she could find kelpie and clear up the misconception. Her inclination to help and heal ran deep, to her core.

But here, in the swampy waters of Key Largo, there was no mythical creature that might whisk her to the bottom and drown her. No, in this water, an alligator slinked by. An animal that actually had the capacity to knock life from her lungs.

She tread water, schooling her breathing into calm inhales and exhales. Or at least, this was the attempt she was making. Boggy, slimy weeds locked around her ankle, twisting her into underwater shackles.

Adrenaline pushed into her veins, her heart palpitating as she tried to force a degree of rigidity into her so-far-erratic movements.

From her memory depths, she recalled a time not unlike this one. She’d been swimming in Lake Michigan after her parents had relocated to Michigan. She’d been caught in weeds then, too, but her father had been there to untangle her. And that lake had lacked primitive dinosaur-like predators, which had made the Lake Michigan moment decidedly less dramatic.

Eyes flashing upward, she caught the panic flooding Xander’s face.

Ready to help her.

The weeds encircling her ankle pulled against her. Damn. How’d she managed to become so ensnared so quickly? The pulse of the tide slashed into her ears, pushing her against the boat.

A loss of control kicked into her stomach. She heard vague shouting. Easton? Maybe. His voice seemed far away.

The grip on her ankle pulled taut, forcing her below the surface. The more she tried to tread water, to grab hold of the boat, the more she was pulled down. A new sort of tightness tap-danced on her chest. A mouthful of salt water belabored her breathing.

A vague sense of sound broke through her disorientation. Xander’s voice. That steadying baritone. “Maureen, I’m coming!”

Words drifted to her like stray pieces of wood. Her salt-stung vision revealed Xander’s muscled form coming toward her. She made out the people behind him—his in-laws. Even from here, blurry vision and all, she read the concern in their clasped forms.

In an instant Xander was there, face contorted in worry. With an arm, he stabilized her against the boat. Air flooded her lungs again.

“I’m okay. I can swim. I just need to get my foot untangled from the undergrowth.”

“Roger.” He started to dive.

She grasped his arm. “Be careful of the—”

His gaze moved off to the side where the gator lingered with scaly skin and beady eyes. “I see. And the sooner we get out of here the better.”

He disappeared underwater, a trail of small bubbles the only trace of him. Sinking fear rendered a palatable thrum in her chest—a war drum of anxiety. The gator disappeared under water.

Time stood on a knife-edge.

Suddenly she felt a palm wrap around her ankle and release her from the weeds. On instinct, she drew her knee to chest.

Xander followed. The edge of worry ebbed but refused to fade.

“I’m sure you can swim. But humor me. You may not know you’re injured.”

“I don’t want to slow you—”

“And I don’t want to hang out here in the swamp with gators and God only knows what else in addition to the leaking gas. Quit arguing.” No room for negotiation in that tone. It must be the same voice Xander used in boardroom meetings.

“Okay, then. Swim.”

His arms around her, she felt warmth leap from his body to hers. Feeling small and protected for the first time in ages. The muscles in his arm grew taught and retracted as he moved them through the water. Steadying her breathing, pushing her fear far away.

The water gave way to mucky sand and he helped her wade through that all the way to the shoreline.

Her body shook of its own accord. As if by reflex, he wrapped her into a tight hug and her head fit snugly beneath his chin.

The world, which a moment ago was filled with panic and fear, stilled. His breath on her cheek warmed her bones with more intensity than the tropical sun.

In that space, adrenaline fell back into her bloodstream. But fear didn’t motivate that move this time. Awareness did as he held her close, breathing faster, somehow keeping time with her ragged heart. His body felt like steel against hers as she pulled away from him, her eyes catching his, watching as they fell away to her lips.

She hadn’t imagined it, then, noting his desire.

“Maureen?” Her name sent the world crashing back into place. Willing her eyes away from his, she looked over her shoulder to see his in-laws and Easton standing a short distance away.

Knowing he needed coverage, even if just for a moment, she turned to face them, careful to stay angled in front of Xander. As if he’d done it a thousand times before, his hands fell to her shoulders. A mild but welcome distraction.

Xander’s in-laws were visibly distraught.

“Are you okay?” Xander’s father-in-law asked, face crumpled like he smelled something rotting. Maureen nodded dully, afraid her words might betray something private and real about this moment.

The man shifted focus from Maureen to Xander. “And you?”

“Yes. Thankfully. More of a scare than any real harm.” His hands squeezed Maureen’s shoulder blades before dropping. Immediately she felt the echo of his absence from her skin.

His mother-in-law sniffed in response. “Honestly. What if that had been Rose? I’m just glad she wasn’t out here. A nature refuge is lovely, of course—” ice entered her words “—but such a dangerous, unpredictable place isn’t so well suited for our grandchild.”

Maureen squinted at the woman’s response, which felt more like a warning than anything else.

* * *

Hours separated him from the gator run-in and he still couldn’t think straight.

He’d always been a pro at compartmentalizing events, locking his personal life away so he could focus on whatever task at hand. That proved infinitely difficult with this afternoon’s events.

As if his mind was a film loop, he kept revisiting Maureen falling in the water, a gator just a few feet away. The moment she looked like she was struggling sent him tumbling into action—a reflex and urge so primal, he couldn’t ignore it.

Nor could he ignore the way she’d looked, soaked to the bone in her swimsuit. The feel of her shuddering with relief when they were on solid ground. How that relief reverberated in his own gut as he’d looked at her full lips.

There was no denying how turned on he was. The connection he’d felt to her in that beachside embrace had made him so damn aware of her. Sure, she’d always been attractive. He knew that, but there was something so sexy about the way she’d endured the gator run-in.

He wanted her, down to his core. All day, his thoughts drifted to her.

Did life ever get easy?

Watching his in-laws with his daughter provided a quick answer to that question. Delilah and Jake weren’t mean—they were matter-of-fact. Particular. Things had to be just so.

Reflecting back on Terri’s perfect makeup and clothes, he saw what a lifetime of being scrutinized could do. How that constant second-guessing had sometimes wrought Terri up with anxiety. Especially when her parents came for a visit. She’d agonize on the arrangement of pillows and the tenderness of the pasta. Her mother and father always had a critique, a method of alleged perfection. Deep down, he knew they meant well.

Seeing Delilah straighten Rose’s bow and quietly comment on staying proper rubbed him the wrong way. He wanted his daughter to grow up confident in her own worth.

He wanted to bring up his child.

“You know, Xander, we could help you with Rose. Keep her until school starts. We’re retired now and we can devote all of our attention to her.” Delilah’s polished voice trilled. She had been hunched over Rose, examining the little girl’s drawing.

“Ah, well, I know she looks forward to seeing you both. I think that helps enough,” he said sympathetically. The pain of loss seemed to form a permanent line on her brow.

“Barry, our family friend and lawyer, you remember him? He mentioned that the court might see an arrangement with us to suit Rose better. We know how hard you work. We have the time to devote to her that you may not right now.” Jake stood behind Xander, resting a hand on his shoulder.

The blood beneath his skin fumed, turned molten. He had to keep his cool. “Well, I know how much you love Rose. But it’s time for her to nap. She’s still not feeling well.”

Smoothing her dress, Delilah nodded. “Yes, she does need rest.”

“I’m sure you feel similarly. You both should probably get settled in your hotel.” His even tone held a challenge in it. He needed separation from them. Boundaries.

Especially now, because their intent had come into full view. They were here to spy on his proficiency as a father.

A more sinister thought entered his mind. What if they just snatched her away? It echoed in his mind as he saw them off the property and as he walked back into the room where his daughter slept. He looked at Elenora, a woman in her fifties with kind brown eyes, and left instructions with a caution about the issue with his in-laws. Elenora had to stay with Rose, and if anyone tried to come on the property, he was to be alerted at once.

The woman nodded her understanding. Feeling satisfied, he walked to his other unofficial charge. He went to find Maureen. Needed to make sure she was okay after her accident. There had been no time to actually check on her—not with his in-laws so close by.

Striding over to the clinic—another retrofitted and well-windowed building—his pace quickened. An urgency to move filled him. The stress of his in-laws, their constant reminders of the danger of the refuge and the way he was raising Rose. It all slammed into him.

Opening the door to the clinic, the sour smell of oil assaulted him. He turned the first corner in the building to see Maureen and a gaggle of oil-soaked seabirds. When the boat tipped, oil had seeped into the water and drenched the feathers of about five birds. The refuge had rounded them up for cleaning.

Maureen worked quickly, using the Dawn dish soap generously to lift the layers of oil from delicate feathers. He studied her, once again reminded of the intense gut-kick he’d felt earlier when she’d fallen into the water. The fear of loss knotted. He hated that fear.

Maureen cooed at the birds, mimicking their squawks with absolute precision. From a distance, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d felt like she was actually talking to them. A real conversation. Her heart seemed to soar with delight as every inky layer of oil was lifted from the feathers of the bird.

Easton, a few feet away in the exam room, diligently looked over every bird Maureen had expertly cleaned.

Her hair was wet and piled on top of her head in a loose topknot with a few spiral curls escaping. She wore surgical scrubs. Apparently she’d only taken a quick shower to remove the muck from herself before going to work again.

She probably hadn’t even thought about getting her own ankle examined. So like Maureen. So tender.

As she stood rinsing a bird, a smile on her lips, he felt the world slip away again. Mesmerized by her grace and movements.

And so kind. That fact, her empathy and patience, it was the remedy he needed. One that might even strike favor with his hard-to-please in-laws.

* * *

Gently, Maureen worked the oil out of the bird’s left wing feathers, careful not to squeeze too tightly and damage the delicate bones. Moments had fallen away before she registered someone lingering by the door frame.

Not just someone. Xander.

Heat flooded into her cheeks as she remembered the way their bodies had pressed up against each other after the gator run-in.

“Are you okay? That was quite a spill you took.”

She shrugged her shoulders, tongue unable to articulate any of her whirring thoughts.

“What makes a girl—hell, anyone—want to wrestle with alligators?” He inched closer.

“They don’t bite nearly as hard as the ones in the boardroom,” she volleyed back, thankful to find her voice again. He unnerved her fully.

“Funny.” A puff of a laugh teased against his teeth, leaving behind a serpentine hiss.

“And I can outrun them.”

“Also funny. But seriously, why this career?”

A loaded question. Freedom. This career awarded her a sense of sky and life the way nothing else could. “Why any career? Why would you want to stay inside all the time?”

“I enjoy the corporate challenge and I have a head for business. Without that, places like this would close down. It almost did.” A defensive edge filled his tone.

She flashed a toothy smile, raising an eyebrow as a soap bubble floated in the space between them. “True enough. And without me, places like this wouldn’t exist. I wanted to be a veterinarian. I just had to find my niche.”

“So someone threw an alligator in your pool and you knew?” His lips parted into an incredulous smile and she found it hard to concentrate. Averting her gaze, she turned back to the double-crested cormorant, the bird made its traditional guttural noise that sounded much like a grunting pig. Funny. Endearing. It helped her re-center, refocus on her work with the greenish-black bird that sported an adorable orange neck.

“I was actually out on a field trip for school. My work group got separated from the rest and we were lost, wandering around deeper into the moors. The fog rolled in and we couldn’t see what was around our feet. It freaked out the others in the group, but I found that soup of nature...fascinating. I just wanted to reach down in there and run my fingers through the mist. I felt...connected. I knew.” She gestured to the world around her. “This is what I’m supposed to do with my life.”

“You are...an incredible woman.”

She felt the blush heat her cheeks. His compliment shouldn’t matter but it did. Her self-esteem had taken some serious dings during her marriage. “Thank you. I’m just a lucky one.”

“Hard work certainly increases the odds of good luck.”

“Still, life isn’t always evenhanded.” In fact, she felt like it was often like an out-of-balance scale. All the counterweights were askew. Looking at him now, leaning casually against the workstation, definitely riled her sense of evenhandedness. Being attracted to him was not without complications. Serious work-altering complications. And then, there was the problem of her work visa expiring.

His face went somber. “True enough.”

“Oh, God.” She touched his arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

“It’s okay. Really. I can’t spend the rest of my life having people measure their every word around me. I wouldn’t want that for Rose, either. I want her to grow up in a world of happiness.”

Searching for some level ground, she offered, “I’m sure she’s being pampered to pieces by her grandparents.”

His face went even darker.

“What did I say wrong?” Her stomach knotted.

“It’s not you. It’s just that my relationship with them has become strained since Terri died. They miss her, I understand that. We’re all hurt.”

“Everyone could tell how much you loved each other.”

“We’d known each other all our lives.” His voice was filled with a hollow kind of sadness.

“So you’ve known her parents as long, too. They should be like parents to you, as well.”

He barked out a laugh. “If only it was that simple.”

“I don’t want to pry.”

He shook his head. “You’re not. They blame me for not taking care of her. I was working late when she died. If I’d been home on time, maybe I would have seen the symptoms, gotten her to the hospital in time...”

In his tone, she could hear how many times he’d replayed that night in his head. Played the what-if game. She knew how painful the potential of what-if could be.

“You can’t blame yourself.” Her voice was gentle but firm.

“I do. They do.” Quieter still, he took a step forward, buried his face in his hands as if to shut out any chance of redemption. But Maureen knew a thing or two about “phoenixing”—the importance of being birthed by fire and ash.

“Easton told me the doctors said there was nothing that could have been done.”

She reached a soapy hand for his, certain Xander needed a small show of comfort. Her heart demanded that of her.

“I wish I could believe that. I wish we all could.”

“That has to have left a big hole in your life.”

“It has.”

“I’m so sorry.” And she was. So damn sorry for how things had played out for him. For the burden of a future he’d glimpsed but could never have. She understood that sort of pain.

“I have our child. And I can’t change things.”

“Stoic.”

He leveled a sardonic look her way. “The problem with that?”

“Nothing.”

“Even I know that when a woman says nothing, she means something.” He half grinned, an attempt at light in a shadowed spot. A good sign. A necessary one. And Maureen used that light to ask the question that had burned a hole in her mind all day.

“I just wonder who...”

“Who what?”

“Who helped you through that time?” Immediately she regretted the push for information. Stammering, she continued. “Th-that’s too personal. Forget I said anything.”

He waved his hand, dismissing her retraction. “Holding my daughter comforted me. There’s no way to make the pain go away. Enough talk about me. What about you? Tell me your life history if you expect mine.”

“I’m from Ireland.” An evident truth and perhaps a cop-out answer meant to delay going deeper.

“Great mystery there, lass.” He re-created a thick brogue, sounding like an Irishman in a BBC production. The gesture tugged a smile at the corners of her mouth.

“My accent’s not that thick.”

“True. And why is that?”

She looked up at him through her lashes as she finished the last bird’s wing. “My father worked for an American-based company in Michigan for ten years.”

“Is that what drew you back here?”

“Maybe. I needed a change after my divorce and this opening came up. I got the work visa. Here I am.” That was the heart of the story. No lies, but nothing to sink his teeth into. Maureen was always much more comfortable asking people how they felt and what they needed than sharing her own details, especially after her divorce.

“And now it’s time to go home.” He tipped his head to the side. “You don’t seem pleased about that. I imagine your family has missed you.”

“They weren’t pleased with me for splitting with my ex. They accused me of choosing my job over my marriage.”

“Your husband wasn’t interested in coming with you?”

“No, he wasn’t. I didn’t ask, actually. We’d already split by then, but my parents didn’t know.” She shook her head. “But I don’t want to talk about that. Nothing more boring than raking over the coals of a very cold divorce.” The need to change the subject ached in her very bones.

“Whatever you wish.”

Time to shift back to Xander. To something of the present. “What brought you out here?”

“I need your help.”

“Is there an animal loose?”

He held a hand to his chest, acting as if he’d been wounded by her insinuation. “I think you just insulted my manhood. I may not be my brother, but I can handle a stray critter.”

Damn, he was too handsome and charming for his own good—or her sanity.

She considered his words for a moment before pressing further. “Snakes?”

“Sure.” He nodded.

“Birds?”

“A net and gentle finesse?”

“A key deer?”

“I could chase it with the four-wheeler.”

The image of Xander loaded up in a four-wheeler corralling key deer sent her giggling. She’d never seen this fun side of him before and she couldn’t help but be enchanted by the flirtatious game. After all, it was safe, not likely to lead anywhere. “Gators?”

“Stay away from the gators.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Quite frankly, I would rather handle the gator than wrestle the numbers and executives you deal with.” She shuddered. “And living in an office? No, thank you.”

“But you’ll stay in the boat when it comes to the alligators from now on.”

“Of course.” She winked playfully at him, enjoying the lighthearted, no-pressure moment. “What did you want to ask me?”

“How’s your work visa extension progressing?”

Ugh. Now that was a sobering turn to the conversation. This wasn’t new information. The question confused her. “Not well.”

“I can help you.”

“You’ll put in a good word for me?”

“I already did that and clearly that’s not enough.”

“Then what are you proposing?”

“That’s just it. I’m proposing.”

His words thundered in her brain, a reality she couldn’t quite locate yet.

Proposing?

Four

The words hung heavy in the air between them. She blinked at him. Not a good sign.

Her head bobbed side to side, as if she was replaying his words. He watched as her practiced hands put the now-clean bird in a cage, the greenish hues of the feathers more vibrant, the orange neck glowing again. Astonishment pulled at her lips while the bird perched and gave its little grunting honk of joy. Maureen, however, stayed silent.

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