“Have you come looking for safety, Daphne?”

She met his gaze, and then hers fell to his mouth. Wanting her was crazy. A woman had never confused Patrick this way before.

“We’re getting too personal.” She leaned back and stood.

“Wait.” He caught her arm. Though she tried to be tough, she couldn’t hide her fragility. “Do you want me to call Raina?”

Softness returned to Daphne’s eyes. “I really don’t need you to take my first step with my sister.”

“I’d like to help.”

“You might as well know I’m not used to having someone take care of me.”

“Taking care is what small towns do best.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I know you’re trying to make me feel welcome. I appreciate that you care.”

Care? Patrick was trying not to care too much.

Anna Adams wrote her first romance on the beach in wet sand with a stick. The Atlantic Ocean washed that one away, but these days she uses modern tools to write the kind of stories she loves best – romance that involves everyone in the family, and often the whole community. Anna is in the middle of one of those stories with her own hero of twenty-seven years. From Iceland to Hawaii and points in between they’ve shared their lives with children and family and friends who’ve become family. Right now they’re living in a small Southern town, whose square has become the model for the one where much of the action happens in Honesty, Virginia. In fact, Anna wrote much of Her Reason To Stay in a coffee shop looking out at the courthouse that readers of this series must know so well.

Her Reason
to Stay

by

Anna Adams

MILLS & BOON®

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Colin and his Sarah,

who, happily, is another Sarah for us to love.

Buddy, the instant I first looked into your face,

I became a better woman. Have I ever

thanked you for that?

Table of Contents

Cover Page

Excerpt

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

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

Epilogue

Preview

Copyright

Chapter One

“I CAN HARDLY LOOK at you. You have my face. And seeing you reminds me that my parents lied to me.”

Those weren’t exactly the words she wanted to hear. Daphne Soder had expected surprise, maybe even shock from her long-lost sister. Instead, the stranger who was also her twin seemed one second away from leaping out the closest window.

Ignoring a strong urge to stop her, Daphne kept still, trying not to frighten Raina Abernathy any further.

Raina sat beside her lawyer, barricaded behind a long maple conference table in the office of Delaney, Brock, Sheffield and Gannon. Her body language screamed, “stay away,” as she moved closer to the dark-haired man whom she clearly considered her protector.

His name was Patrick Gannon, and his glacial expression pierced Daphne as if he expected her to reach across the table and murder Raina in front of him.

So much for a happy reunion. Daphne had arrived at this meeting filled with the crazy hope that she and her sister could finally become a family, that they’d learn to love each other. But Raina obviously didn’t want that, and her rejection hurt.

“I’m sorry. I had no idea you didn’t know about the adoption,” Daphne said. “Still, that doesn’t change why I’m here.”

Patrick turned toward her, his mouth a thin line, his glare raising goose bumps that made her hug herself. He stared at her arms, then looked into her eyes, his own filling with suspicion.

“I don’t have any ulterior motives,” she said. “But I hope you aren’t thinking like Mr. Gannon, Raina.” She met his gaze full on. It took more than a man with the ability to launch an ice age at a glance to scare her these days. “Or are you assuming the worst because my sister does?”

Neither Patrick nor Raina answered.

“I’d hoped you’d welcome the chance to meet your twin sister,” Daphne continued. “I understand you’re reluctant because you don’t know me, but can’t you try?” She studied Raina—a polished, expensive yet timid version of herself.

Raina looked away, but not before Daphne saw her obvious sadness. She reminded herself that she’d had months to get accustomed to the idea that she had a twin sister. And because her family had been anything but stable, the news had been welcome. The same was not true for Raina, who probably was struggling to accept such a radical change to her world. That realization nudged aside Daphne’s disappointment, allowing her to feel Raina’s pain.

Almost against her will, Daphne slid her hand across the table toward Raina. Reaching out to strangers was difficult, but she and Raina shared a bond that Daphne longed to build on. Offering physical support was a monumental step she had to take.

Patrick shifted, positioning his body to protect Raina. The rejection and hostility in the move, along with Raina’s acquiescence made Daphne snatch back her hand.

He glanced at Raina, and the look they exchanged appeared intimate, as if they carried out a silent conversation. Certainly their closeness exceeded the bounds of a typical lawyer-client relationship. He seemed ready to vanquish dragons—or in this case, a pesky, lowbrow twin who didn’t have the sense to stay hidden—at the merest gesture from Raina. Daphne knew a moment of envy. A woman who had Patrick Gannon in her corner would never need a pit bull or an electric fence to keep her safe. Did Raina appreciate having someone so willing to support her? Did she know the value of not having to fight battles alone?

Daphne tucked both hands under the table and twisted her fingers until they hurt. She didn’t need a man like Patrick in her life. She knew how to take care of herself. In fact, she preferred it that way.

“I can’t give you money,” Raina spoke suddenly, startling Daphne. “It’s all tied up. In a trust. I just get an allowance.”

“You think I’m letting you treat me like this because I want your cash?”

Patrick opened the folder in front of him. “It’s a logical conclusion. Raina has inherited the Abernathy pharmaceutical fortune. And from what I’ve been able to discover, you don’t have many assets of your own.”

Her beleaguered finances were no secret. But if that was the biggest obstacle Patrick could throw in her path, then clearly he hadn’t been that thorough in his background check. If he knew her true history, he never would have allowed her within the same state as Raina. Still, those deeds were in her past and bore little relevance to this situation, even though she doubted Patrick and Raina would hold the same view.

“You have nothing compared to the Abernathy fortune,” Raina said.

Her coldness and the way she stressed her adopted family name destroyed Daphne’s dreams of an amicable reunion and a new family. So she reacted the way she usually did in the face of rejection—she went on the offensive.

“You have everything,” Daphne said. “Wealth, poise and standing in this little town. I’ll bet your parents loved you and made sure you had nothing but the best.” In essence, all the things that were in such short supply in Daphne’s life. “Yet despite those advantages, I can’t detect a shred of kindness in you. It’s a disappointment to think we share the same blood.”

“You counted on kindness? You expected to be welcomed with open arms because we resemble each other? Blood doesn’t make us family.”

Daphne brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “This is not how I saw meeting you.”

“Tell us what you want,” Patrick said, halting the deteriorating conversation.

Daphne resisted looking to Raina for help. If their roles had been reversed, Daphne would have told him to stay out of the situation and let her talk to her sister. But after her quick insults, Raina was content to leave the hard work to her lawyer. One more piece of evidence that their physical similarities did not extend to their personalities.

Honesty, Virginia, had sounded like a sanctuary to Daphne from the moment she’d read about it and Raina. A chance to create the kind of family most people took for granted. Finding out that she was a twin had underscored her loneliness and isolation.

Raina hadn’t been alone. She’d had a mother and a father who’d loved her. She’d been a princess in this town. She’d belonged to people and to a place. She’d never needed that mystical twin connection the way Daphne had. Raina hadn’t needed fantasies of real parents swooping in to rescue her from a crazy foster mother who beat her with wooden spoons. Or from a foster mother’s boyfriend who seemed a little too interested in the young female charges. The disparity in their childhoods and their biological connection motivated Daphne. She wanted, no, needed, Raina to acknowledge her.

“I’ve searched for our parents for years.” Ten years to be precise. Since she’d turned eighteen. “I finally learned our mother died in a car accident soon after we were born. Our father gave us up for adoption. I haven’t traced him, but I found out about you in a newspaper clipping. The article talked about our mother’s accident and mentioned her surviving twin daughters.”

“My mother died three months ago,” Raina snapped. “It’s too late to start wondering about this other—woman.”

“You can’t help feeling—” Daphne said.

“Don’t pity me.” Raina’s voice went shrill.

Daphne stared at her, surprised to feel the tightness of tears. Regardless of her treatment of Daphne, Raina was mourning. “I don’t,” she said.

“Who needs your pity? My parents loved me. They didn’t tell me about this other life I barely had because they knew what you don’t understand. That past has no relevance. It’s not me.”

Maybe the Abernathys hadn’t wanted anything to mar the illusion of their perfect life. Or maybe they had been afraid Raina couldn’t handle the truth, which her oh-so-helpful sister had brought home with a vengeance.

Either way, it appeared Raina wasn’t content to hide behind Patrick for the entire meeting. Not about to let the two of them tag-team her, Daphne turned to him.

“Why are you here?”

Her aggressive tone made Raina sit back in obvious surprise, while Patrick gave a startled half smile that increased the laugh lines around his mouth and eyes. She couldn’t help thinking that if he knew how much the expression softened him, he’d never use it. She liked how that simple curving of his lips hinted at warmth hidden beneath his cold exterior.

Without warning or any reason, he woke a new emotion in Daphne. A longing that baffled her. She hadn’t come here to get all fascinated by a man whose job it was to thwart her.

“Patrick’s with me in case I need him to explain the facts of my life to you,” Raina said. “I have nothing to share with you.”

“Nothing? No sister’s love? No interest in finding out if we could be a family?”

Daphne wished she hadn’t spoken. Raina’s silence was more than enough answer. Daphne looked out the rain-streaked windows at budding treetops and the bell tower of the courthouse that composed the town’s square. She’d never forget this moment. Her quest to build a future with her sister ended now.

Even in the face of her pain, she refused to let these two, with their suspicions and remote expressions, know she hurt. She faced them, trying to appear as if she didn’t care.

Raina couldn’t look at her. Her eyes flickered toward Patrick, no doubt seeking his support. Money, even tied up in a trust, mattered to Raina. Money. If she’d worried about anything else, Daphne would have been willing to fight. But she would never tolerate being accused of acting out of greed.

She banged her hands on the table and pushed back her chair. On her feet, she was aware of her faded jeans and knit shirt. By comparison, Raina’s white suit must have cost more than the rent Daphne had paid last year.

“I’m leaving, but I want you to remember I only asked for family. Goodbye, Raina.”

Patrick stood—to make sure she didn’t pick her sister’s pocket on the way out? “Wait,” he said. “Why don’t you—”

“No.” She wanted out of this room with its smells of polish and coffee and paper. She needed fresh air that wasn’t weighed down with judgment and skepticism.

Her sneakers made no sound on the plush mushroom-colored carpet. She opened the door and slipped through. The receptionist sprang from her chair, mistaking Daphne for someone who mattered.

She held her head high, startled that no one recognized her as a woman limping on the last of her courage. At the elevator, she punched the down button. Four times. Fast.

The conference-room door opened. No way would she check to see who’d exited the den of intimidation.

She made for the door marked Stairs. She pounded down, half sliding on the metal balustrade, praying she’d come out in an alley rather than the foyer.

The gods must have been playing with her. At the bottom she stumbled straight into the marble atrium of Blah-Blah-Blah-and-Gannon.

The latter burst out of the elevator so abruptly the doors rattled on their runners. Swearing beneath her breath, Daphne walked quickly. She wouldn’t run, but she wanted out of this building before Patrick caught her.

He beat her to the revolving door, stepping in front of her. He held out his hands. “I don’t think you understand.”

“I didn’t. I do now.”

“I’m all Raina has left, but that doesn’t mean I don’t give a damn about anyone else. And Raina doesn’t want to hurt you.”

Daphne stared at him. “You see a different Raina than I did.”

Patrick smiled. A hint of sensuality curved his lips, but she didn’t want to respond to it.

“Don’t leave like this,” he said.

“I don’t blame her. We don’t know each other, and I just blew up all her beliefs about her happy family.”

“She doesn’t want you to go.”

“Since when?”

“I guess since she realized you really were walking away.”

“So she changed her mind a split second ago.” Not good enough. Daphne deserved better than a halfhearted plea delivered by someone else. “You know, that sentiment might be more convincing if she’d had the guts to deliver it herself.”

Patrick took her arm. She pulled away with a youdie look that had always stood her in good stead.

“We were cold to you,” he said.

“You have a talent for cold.”

“Think of the coincidence. Raina’s mother died and the estate went to her. It’s been well publicized.”

“You’d be surprised how few Honesty newspapers sally beyond the town limits. That, combined with the fact I don’t read the financial pages, means I didn’t know Raina was rich.”

He glanced toward the passersby who eyed them curiously. “Out of nowhere—” he lowered his voice “—you arrive, claiming Raina’s family wasn’t really hers, but that you are.”

“It sounds improbable right now, but until I saw the two of you sitting behind that table as if you were under siege, I assumed she’d be as happy as I was to find a sister.”

For a moment, he said nothing. Upstairs, he’d been as impassive as Raina. But now he looked uncomfortable.

“Raina and I made assumptions, too,” he said. “Come back up, and we’ll all start over.”

“Forget it. I made a mistake.”

“I’m trying to explain what we thought. Raina’s mother asked me to protect her. I have to do that.”

“She’s a grown woman.”

“And totally untouched. Honesty is a safe place where few things have challeneged her. She’s used to her life being a certain way and you’ve changed that. But she is a good person. Get to know her, and see what I mean.” He touched her again, squeezing her wrist as if to emphasize his sincerity. She looked down, causing him to release her.

“You all but accused me of planning to rob Raina the second she turns her back on an open checkbook.” His intensity had the strange effect of a rope around her throat. She was strong enough to ignore a passing attraction to some guy. She wouldn’t let him distract her. “You think I’m after my sister’s money. I don’t need it. I can find a job. I’ve found a way to start over too many times to tell you.” Good God. It was like in the old days, when she’d drink too much and buttonhole strangers to confess her worst sins. “I never found family before.”

She didn’t realize her voice had broken until he lowered his head. Above him, the atrium soared to a glass dome. His dark lashes glinted in the diffused light. No doubt part of Mother Nature’s foul plan to make him look sensitive.

“I have to go,” she said.

“I know I’m making this worse, but I just want to ask for another chance. For Raina,” he said. “Accept our apologies for thinking you might be here for whatever handout she could give you.”

“I don’t see how you stay in business. The other attorneys must rake you over in court if you’re this articulate.”

“I hardly ever make a fool of myself like this.” He stepped out of her way. She could have left.

“Why should I stay? Raina didn’t care enough to come downstairs to insult me, herself. None of what you or I say matters because this is between me and her.”

She got as far as the revolving door.

“Raina’s still mourning her mother. Her father died when she was in college. She has no one else.”

Daphne was already reaching for the door, but she thought of Raina, braced behind the big table, her arms wrapped around her waist. His shot hit Daphne right where she was weakest.

“No one,” he said again.

Maybe he wasn’t that bad in court. “You know things about me. Have you investigated me?”

“No,” he said. He was a good liar, but she’d been a jury consultant. She’d made her living sitting in on voir dire to assess which jurors would vote her client’s way in a court case. She understood psychology and body language, and she was hard to fool. She eyed him steadily until he continued. “I looked. Aside from the financials, I found stuff on your track-and-field results.”

She almost told him he hadn’t dug deep enough, but why send him straight to the truth about her past? He and Raina would think even less of her.

“She’s alone. You could help her. She might help you, too.”

“Alone’s a bad place to be.”

A man in a business suit burst through the door from outside, shaking rain off his umbrella. Patrick pulled her away from the door.

“People have already tried to take advantage of Raina.”

“I don’t doubt that.” It was the way of the world. “But I didn’t, and I wouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have come here. This place…It makes me think of families and old-fashioned closeness. I’m used to bad guys who wear their evil on their sleeves.” She couldn’t articulate her experience of the town thus far. Of course, her exposure had been limited, so maybe she should see more before passing judgment. “My sister is content in a world I’m not sure I could live in even if I wanted to. I’m used to larger, more anonymous cities.”

“How do you know until you try?”

“It might be pointless, Patrick.”

She hadn’t meant to say his name. It was too personal. It invited proximity. As if acting on that invitation, he stepped closer. Her awareness of her surroundings narrowed until she saw—felt—only Patrick.

Each breath pressed his chest against her shoulder. The situation grew personal in the extreme.

“You don’t know this place. Raina’s been lost since her mother died. You could help her life make sense again. I can’t do any more for her.”

He wasn’t acting the part of a knight in a business suit. He truly cared about Raina. His love for her dragged Daphne back to earth with a thump.

She twisted away. “I don’t understand what goes on between you two, but you make me feel claustrophobic.”

“I don’t understand.”

Maybe he’d never longed for that one person who made him feel he had a place, a love stronger than anything else he’d ever known—a love to fill the gaps created by years without affection or concern. But Daphne had. And she began to suspect that Patrick loved Raina that much.

Daphne hadn’t resented Raina’s luckier ticket in the adoption lottery, and she’d been glad her sister had never been forced to fend off unwanted male attention. Right now Daphne envied the connection between Raina and this man.

“I’m sorry.” Daphne held out her hand. “You’re my sister’s answer. She doesn’t want love from me. You matter to her. Goodbye, Mr. Gannon.”

He stared at her for a moment, the look in his eyes confused as his hand clasped hers. Her palm disappeared in his. Her fingers felt crushed and her arm grew heavy from her wrist to her shoulder. Heavy with awareness.

“I didn’t expect you to be like this,” Patrick said. “You’re strong enough to walk away.”

She retreated, fighting her attraction. A woman who’d grown up with inappropriate men, Daphne recognized the danger of being vulnerable to a man like Patrick—one who got through her defenses, one who was committed elsewhere. Affairs always started this way. Sexual longing. Looking too deeply into his eyes. Him holding her hand too long, drawing out perfectly natural physical contact, making it something more. That path, however tempting, led to heartache. It led away from the real, safe love she deserved.

She should run, if only because of Patrick and the threat of a relationship that had nothing to do with her reasons for coming to Honesty.

But there was Raina. Suppose he was right. Suppose she really wanted to know Daphne, but she didn’t know how to say so.

Wasn’t it worth another day or two in this little town to have the chance to know her sister?

“I’ll stay.”

Instead of sagging with relief, he seemed to grow larger. His shoulders went back as he took a deep breath.

“But she has to call me. She has to make the next move.” Daphne had a right to make demands after the way they’d treated her. “And next time we meet on neutral ground.”

Before he could counter or touch her again in a way that would persuade her to linger, she left. She walked to where she’d parked, ignoring the rain. She tried to look purposeful, as if she weren’t trembling from scalp to toe with unexpected, totally illogical need of a man who loved her sister.

Chapter Two

“DID YOU CATCH HER?”

“I caught her.” Patrick pressed his tingling palm to the side of his jacket.

What was his problem? Daphne was his client’s sister. Besides, he wasn’t interested in a relationship right now. There’d been plenty of women who’d offered to comfort the poor, divorced single dad whose ex-wife had loved pills better than their family.

He’d turned down those women because his son needed him and he couldn’t afford to complicate his life any further. But something about Daphne had almost made him forget.

With ridiculous weakness, he’d basked in her scent, eased closer so that the dark tendrils of her hair had curled against his shoulder, while he’d kept her talking, not only to persuade her to give Raina a second chance, but to prolong the pleasure of drowning in the whiskey-honey tones of her voice.

He’d been too long on his own with his son, Will.

“She’s staying, but you have to call her, Raina. I’m done.”

“I will.” Raina pushed herself out of her chair. Happiness softened the pinched lines of her face as she hurried to the window.

Patrick had worried about her since the moment her mother had pulled him closer to her hospital bed and begged him to look after her daughter. It was good to see those lines ease.

Nevertheless, he had to make sure she understood he wasn’t part of her relationship with Daphne, whatever it turned out to be.

“You’re too late,” he said as Raina’s forehead bumped the window. “She was speed walking last time I saw her.” He’d probably lit the fire—hanging on to her as if she were a rope at the edge of quicksand.

“I didn’t know what to say.” Raina pressed fingertips to her head. “She looks like me, but she…she seems so different.”

Raina was right. Daphne was different. She was strong, independent and, most telling, she wasn’t afraid to let her feelings be known.

At twenty-eight, Raina remained, improbably, the princess under glass in one of Will’s Disney movies.

“You know where she’s staying?”

“She sent me the address.” Raina dug in her purse. “Even after your secretary told her to get in touch with you if she wanted to meet today.”

“She doesn’t take orders well.”

“You admire her, Patrick?”

Admire her? He shrugged. “She’s got courage. She’s had a harder life than you.”

He needn’t have been so blunt. Daphne had rattled him, resurrected feelings he’d thought had gone forever. He’d deliberately kept his emotions on ice after what had happened to his son last year. Staying detached from everyone except Raina and Will had become his special skill.

“How do you go to someone you’ve never met and tell her you’re her twin? And how do you anticipate being welcomed?” Raina found what she was looking for, a crumpled envelope. “I admire her courage, but I don’t have it in me to love a sister who’s a stranger.”

“I’ll repeat what I said to her. Give her a chance.”

“You asked her to give me a chance?” Raina looked affronted at the idea that she had done something that required being given a second chance.

Which was Patrick’s last straw. He should have walked when Raina had first called him about her twin-out-of-nowhere. Untouched by life except in her own extraordinary home, she might be out of her depth with a woman like Daphne.

Patrick began to gather the papers around his folder, still open on the table. “Raina, I’ve paved the way for you. The rest is up to you.”

Raina waved off his impatience. “I know. I get upset about the wrong things, and I always look to you to help me make a decision, but my mother’s not here, and I can’t ask her why she didn’t tell me I was adopted. She should have warned me. She had to know Daphne or my birth parents might show up.”

“No one came in all these years. Hannah probably thought her secret was safe.”

“Okay, okay.” Raina gripped the envelope so hard it crinkled in the silent room. “Why do you suppose they didn’t adopt Daphne, too?”

“I don’t know. You were infants. Maybe your parents didn’t know about Daphne.”

“Does that seem likely?”

“I’d think the agency would have wanted sisters to go together.”

“Just when I need my memories most, I feel as if I didn’t know my parents, either.” Raina straightened the envelope and pulled out the letter. “I’ll call Daphne’s hotel.” She scanned the writing. “Good Lord, it’s one of those cheap ones out on Helier Drive.”

Patrick had noticed the frayed cuffs of Daphne’s long-sleeved T-shirt and the worn spots on her jeans. Those shiny white patches, forming the seat of her pants, would stay on his mind a while, but he couldn’t attribute them to her sense of style.

“That hotel is probably all she can afford.” He wasn’t any happier than Raina at the thought of Daphne in an area where most of Honesty’s criminal activities occurred.

“I wonder if she’d meet me for coffee?”

“Ask her.” He glanced at his watch. “I have some meetings.”

“Why are you so eager to rush off? We didn’t intend to hurt her feelings.”

“It got out of hand fast. We should have been more tactful.” Accusing Daphne right at the start of wanting money had been unfair. “She wants to get to know you. You’re interested in finding out about her. If you talk, things will work out.”

Raina took out her cell phone. “Mind if I use this room a second longer?”

“Fine. Will’s waiting for me.” His mother looked after Will, and Patrick was already late to pick up his son. He shoved the last of the loose pages inside the folder he’d made on Daphne. Sports clippings from the Internet, bank statements, her initial letter to Raina, hope written between every line. “Take your time and try to keep the games to a minimum, Raina.”

“Games?”

“You know what I mean. This morning was a game. You tried to make Daphne angry enough to admit she’d come to take advantage of you. But maybe she didn’t.”

She stopped in the middle of punching in Daphne’s number on her phone. “What happened downstairs?”

“Nothing happened,” he said. Nothing would. Will was his priority.

But from the second he’d read hurt in Daphne’s eyes, from the moment he’d held her hand too long, he’d wanted her, pure and—not in any way—simple.

How, out of the blue, could he desire a stranger when he’d sworn off any attachment except to Will until they had their life under control again?

“Patrick?” Raina dropped the phone to her side. “You look funny. Are you okay?” She put her hand on the table, leaning toward him. “Is Will all right?”

He turned the legal pad and folder as if aligning their edges were a priority. Raina knew he still felt guilty that his son had almost died because he’d been blind to his ex-wife’s addiction. If he’d known how much Lisa had craved the drugs that had become her crutch, he’d never have left Will alone with her. And his son would have been safely at home that snowy day, rather than nearly dying of hypothermia in the backseat of the car while his mother lay unconscious in a dressing room less than a block from Patrick’s office.

“Will’s fine.” Raina had witnessed the rapid divorce that left him with custody of his son. She might be focused on her own grief, but she could step outside it long enough to care about his family. That was why he went out of his way for her.

“Daphne didn’t come for money.” He hoped he wasn’t mistaking his own lust for good judgment. “I believe her.”

“Why?”

“She wouldn’t have walked out of here if she’d planned to work you for a paycheck.”

“Something changed. You were on my side, but suddenly Daphne’s strong and kind, and I’m not supposed to play games.”

“We’re talking trust. You both want to know each other, and that’s going to take trust.” He reached for the door then turned to look at her. She was right in a way. Those few minutes with Daphne had changed his feelings. It didn’t make sense and it wasn’t convenient. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Raina.”

She’d always been the younger sister he’d never had, but the image of her twin, using her body to push through the revolving door, made him hitch his shoulders beneath a shirt that suddenly tormented his skin.

He’d looked at Raina almost every day of her life. He’d talked to her and laughed with her and protected her, but Daphne was different. Her sad eyes had made him wonder about the secrets hiding behind them. He had felt the taut weight of her breasts, a breath away from his chest, as if he’d held her already.

After living alone with his son for long, empty, safe months, he’d longed to wrap his arms around Daphne’s slender waist and simply take pleasure in her warmth and curves.

Wouldn’t he be safe with a woman who wanted family as badly as she did? Did he dare even entertain the possibility? After such deep acquaintance with fear and anger, hope seemed to sting.

“I’ve got to get to Will,” he said.

LATER THAT DAY, Daphne inhaled the coffee aroma, trying not to be noticed by the woman and little girl in line in front of her, not wanting them to mistake her for Raina. She checked her watch. She’d arrived at Cosmic Grounds about fifteen minutes early for her appointment with her sister, but it gave her time to appreciate the dark wood wainscoting beneath rich red walls without gawking like the stranger she was.

She eyed buttery-smelling scones on plates beside jars of biscotti and chocolate-chip cookies wrapped in crinkly sleeves. The little girl plucked a praline out of a pyramid of the fat caramel-colored candies.

“Can I have one, Mommy?”

Her mother glanced down, barely comprehending. “I guess.” Then she looked startled when the girl behind the counter asked for more money.

Daphne risked a scan of the other customers, a man buried behind a newspaper, a young girl running her index finger over a tome the size of the Domesday Book. The girl sipped her coffee. Her short cap of brown hair fell away from her face, and she smiled with tired gray eyes.

Daphne had worked her way through a criminology degree. She recognized the signs of unremitting study. The girl went back to her work, and Daphne sighed, hoping despite a healthy dose of wariness that this might become her favorite coffee shop.

Cosmic Grounds didn’t compare in size or even selection to the chain coffee shop down the block. Interesting that Raina had chosen it for their meeting. She seemed conventional all the way. Maybe she was hoping that the two of them wouldn’t be seen by too many of her neighbors.

The mother and daughter hurried from the shop, balancing a coffee cup, a small container of hot cocoa and the girl’s candy.

Daphne didn’t realize she’d been watching them until she turned back to find the spiky-haired blonde behind the counter staring at her. Daphne glanced over her shoulder again before she realized the college-aged young woman must have thought she was Raina.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” the girl said, but then slapped her hand over her mouth as if she’d dared too much. Was Raina a snob?

Daphne slid her hands inside her jean pockets. “I’m not my sister” almost slipped out of her mouth. But even as the idea of Raina intimidating coffeeshop employees troubled her, she didn’t want to criticize her sister.

Forget it. The good citizens of Honesty would soon find there were two of them, and this girl could expect the shock any moment.

The girl lifted her khaki Cosmic Grounds baseball cap and settled it again on her spiky hairdo. “Can I help you?”

“May I have a café au lait and a cherry scone?”

“Sure.” Smacking a big wad of gum, she tapped out the charges and gave Daphne the bill, still studying her. “I’ll bring it to your table.”

Daphne paid then found a spot for two in a dark corner. Until she knew how Raina felt, it might be best to keep their meeting private.

Trying to be invisible reminded Daphne of how she’d spent her adolescence, hunched over, pretending she wasn’t a developing young woman, that she didn’t exist, hoping no one else would try to touch her.

She was spending her twenties learning to live confidently in her own skin.

A small hand with a Celtic ring tattooed in henna on its index finger slid a mug and scone onto the table.

“I like that.” Daphne pointed to the girl’s finger.

“You like it?”

Daphne almost laughed. Raina must not seem like a tattoo kind of girl. The door opened, making the bell above it peal. The girl turned to greet her new customer. Only to wheel back and eye Daphne.

“I thought you were her.”

“You’re probably wondering why now.” Seeing them both, no one would have trouble telling the sophisticated, well-groomed Raina from Daphne.

“Hunh.” The girl whistled around her gum and went back to the counter.

Even Daphne felt confused when she looked at her twin. Daphne’s hair tended to clench like a fist in the rain, so she’d wound it into a knot before she’d climbed out of her car. Raina’s hair dared not curl. If they ever became intimate enough, Daphne would ask how her sister achieved such flawless control.

Raina placed her order then came to the table. She tucked her change into a wallet that matched her multibuckled, oversize white purse. “Sorry I kept you waiting. I couldn’t find my umbrella. I never used to be so scattered.” Not one wrinkle, not a speck of dirt touched her white suit.

Daphne marveled. Nature versus nurture. They were bound to learn which was more powerful if they got to know each other.

“You’re staring,” Raina said.

Daphne shut her mouth. “Not to be rude. Why’d you ask me to meet you here?”

“You get to the point.”

“I thought the same thing about you in Patrick’s office.” She must have said his name with some special emphasis because Raina lifted both eyebrows, leaning forward. Daphne touched her own brows.

“Patrick talked you into giving me a second chance,” Raina said. “How did he do that?”

Daphne picked a packet of sweetener out of a small ceramic holder. “He said you’d want to know me.”

Raina stared at the sweetener package for a second. “I’m sorry about accusing you, but I have money, and you…”

“Don’t. But I do have a temper.” And pride. “I have manners and feelings, despite my low-class background.”

“Right. Sorry.” She took the sweetener out of Daphne’s fingers, and Daphne met her sister’s gaze.

Again, Raina said nothing for several moments. Finally, she held her hand out. “I behaved like an idiot, but please take some time before you decide about me.”

Daphne took her hand. They shook as the girl from the counter approached with a tray.

Raina took it, her expression relaxing into a smile. “Thanks, Kyla.” She set her mug—tea—and a dish of sugar cubes on the table.

“Sure.” Kyla took the tray back, still staring from one to the other of them. “Call me if you need anything else.”

Raina grinned at Kyla’s retreating back. “She’s shocked. So am I, every time I look at you.”

“But you seem to be taking it in stride now.” Daphne sipped her coffee. “I thought you were frightened this afternoon. Now, you seem confident, like a woman with a plan.”

“My parents never told me I was adopted. Imagine opening a door and seeing someone with your face who tells you the last thing you want to hear.”

“What did you think? That I’d had plastic surgery or something to make myself look like you so you’d give me money?”

“I’m not suggesting we aren’t twins, but I’ve learned to be suspicious of everyone. I’ve already had guys ask me to marry them. Not because I’m so lovable.” She shrugged, and Daphne admired her ability to laugh at herself. “Which you may have noticed. But they each desired a piece of my net worth. My life is ludicrous, and you show up when I’m feeling most cynical.”

“When is a bad time to find family? All I wanted was to know my sister.”

That word felt strange to Daphne, not warm anymore. Raina ignored it.

“I do a lot of things well.” She dropped a couple of sugar cubes into her cup, and then she dipped her tea bag. “My mother taught me to pretend people aren’t staring at me and my companion in a coffee shop. She trained me to wear the right clothes for spring, although she probably would have checked the weather forecast before she put on white. She taught me how to appear cool under fire.” She tilted her head at a wry angle. “Only, I seem to have a problem with that one, too.”

“You’re not under fire. I want to know if we can be sisters.” A knot in her throat stopped her. She didn’t want Raina to realize how much it mattered.

But Raina noticed. “That’s what I mean. I don’t know how I’m supposed to respond. My parents lied to me. You’re looking for someone who could be your family. I’ve just lost the last of mine, and here you are, suggesting we could belong together.”

Belong together. Even Daphne hadn’t gone that far. Her heartbeat picked up a little pace. Speaking became difficult. This was why she’d come to Honesty.

Raina stirred her tea without touching the sides of the mug and set the spoon delicately on a paper napkin.

Suddenly, there was something Daphne had to know. “Did Patrick make you call me? He came after me because he was worried. This meeting was his idea.”

Raina looked straight at her for the first time. “You call him Patrick as if you know each other.”

Had he noticed she was attracted to him? “Should I have said Mr. Gannon?” What had Patrick said after he’d gone back upstairs? Had they laughed at her?

“That’s not what I meant, but you two spent a few minutes alone in an elevator, and suddenly you’re both different.”

Worse than laughing. “I took the stairs.”

Raina looked confused, but then she laughed, picking up her spoon again. She gave her tea another stir. “I overreacted. To you and to everything about our situation.”

“Being sisters? That situation?” Or was Raina staking her claim to Patrick? Suddenly, Daphne couldn’t breathe. She felt around for her own purse.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting out of here, once and for all. You don’t care that we’re sisters. You called only because you do what Patrick says.”

“No, no, no.” Raina said it as she would chide a young child, and she reached for Daphne’s wrist. She looked down. “My God, you’re thin. Don’t you ever get a square meal?”

Daphne wanted to run, but if she did, she’d never see Raina again. It was too much to risk.

“Will you let me say I’m sorry?” Raina let Daphne go, but her steady gaze suggested she might grab at Daphne again if she made a move toward the door.

Maybe they were both overreacting.

“Sorry,” Daphne said. “Maybe I seem confident, but trust isn’t my strong suit.” She wrapped her hand around her throat. Moments like this made her thirsty for more than just coffee.

“That’s something we share.”

Daphne flattened her hands on the table. “We share?” She hardly knew she’d said it out loud until Raina’s mouth began to move.

“Four guys, Daphne. Four requests to help themselves to the Abernathy portfolio, all during the past three months. And I’ve known these men since I was a child.” She sipped her tea. Her mouth was so tight, Daphne half expected the liquid to trickle down her chin. “One was a friend of my father’s. His age.”

Daphne slid her hands up her arms, over goose bumps. “I feel the ick factor, but you didn’t understand me.” Being blunt felt awkward. “I want to share—things—our past, the lives we want, the truth—with you. I want a real relationship, not a nodding acquaintance.”

She stuttered to a halt, but Raina’s smile switched on. “You have weaknesses, too.”

“That makes you happy?” That she was vulnerable? That one person left in the world could hurt her?

“No, not happy. But I can identify with you. I may look capable, but something happened to me after my mother’s—death.” Raina’s sadness made Daphne long to comfort her, but Raina had a formidable touch-me-not air. “As you saw in Patrick’s office, sometimes I’m barely able to function. I’m wondering where you get your guts, why you have them but I don’t.”

Daphne smiled. “That’s a funny word from you.”

“Courage, if you prefer.”

“I wonder whether we’re both brave enough to try being sisters.” Daphne eyed Raina over the rim of her coffee cup.

Raina drank her tea, honest-to-God splaying her little finger, then she set the cup in its saucer.

“Let’s get your things.” She pulled her suitcasepurse close to her chest.

“My things?” Raina had gone from shrinking in Patrick’s office to bossing the sister she hadn’t fully accepted yet. Daphne grabbed her coffee, telling herself it was too soon to move in together. “I can’t stay with you.”

Raina arched her perfect eyebrows. “You don’t have a job. Where can you afford to—”

“I have a room in a hotel. I sent you the address.”

“That place isn’t safe for a rat.”

Daphne ran a finger over her eyebrows, which could have benefited from the waxing Raina had obviously recently endured. “Don’t let anyone say you’re not a plain speaker.”

“I’m just suggesting you’d feel more comfortable, and we’d have more time together if you came home with me.”

“Just a few hours ago you accused me of trying to rob you. It’s pretty hard to forget what you said.”

“About?”

“Not having money for me, Raina. Now you want to adopt me. But you and your buddy Patrick might talk it over in a few days and decide I’d tricked you into giving me a room in your ritzy house.”

“Come on. I didn’t react well. Would you have done any better?”

Daphne stared at her. “I honestly don’t know. I’m very aware that I’m the bad bargain in this deal.”

“Bad bargain? What are you talking about?”

“Are you serious? Look at me. My clothes are rags compared to yours. My tastes are plebeian. I have nothing to give you.”

“I haven’t asked for anything.”

“Except to be left alone.”

“That’s over. Let’s think of how you can find a way to live here. You need a job, a home.”

She stopped, her gaze pointed.

“Raina, forget it. You own a palace and I’m peasant material.”

“And proud of it.” Raina clearly refused to comprehend. “Can you type? I’ll bet Patrick could find work for you.”

Daphne might have been annoyed if the seductive memory of Patrick’s hand sliding over her palm hadn’t made her push her fingers under her thighs. Getting close to Patrick would be courting danger. She’d learned a long time ago to ignore instant attraction. Her defenses must be down. “His charity won’t do, either. I’ll find something.”

Raina opened her mouth, but words didn’t come.

“You’ve also changed a lot since this afternoon,” Daphne said.

“I’m not stunned anymore.” Raina stirred another cube of sugar into her tea. “Now that we agree, come with me and we’ll get serious about what to do next.”

“We agree?” Raina’s enthusiasm put her off. Why had her sister changed her mind so quickly?

Raina ignored her reticence. She flicked the label on her tea bag. “This stuff’s horrible. I’ll take you to a place that’ll serve us something with some taste.”

“I can’t afford to waste food.” Daphne hated the slightly smug, pompous note in her own voice. “Sorry. I mean I can’t afford a meal in the kind of restaurant you’re talking about.”

“Oh.” Raina became deeply interested in Daphne’s scone. The door opened again, and watery sunlight revealed a pinkish blush on her cheek. “Maybe I’ll get one of those.” She leaned back, nodding her head to the beat of the jazz tune being played. Her eyes followed the swirls of burgundy and passion-purple paint, cut by dark beams. The lines around her mouth relaxed—almost. “I’ve never been here, but it’s not so bad.”

“So how do you know Kyla?”

“We go to the same church.” She waved at the young woman behind the counter. Kyla stared as if Raina’s chic dark brown coiffure had tilted of its own volition upon her head.

“You have to go up there to get one,” Daphne said.

“Really?” Raina sat up, feeling for her purse, but seemingly surprised to find it still in her lap. “Usually they come to me.”

Daphne smiled into her cooling coffee as her sister sashayed to the counter.

So far, nurture was winning hands down.

Chapter Three

THAT NIGHT, as the temperature in Daphne’s rented room dipped below bone-chilling, she negotiated with the thermostat for more heat. The unit rumbled like a jet on takeoff, and Daphne gagged from the stench of burning dust. She was running for the door to let in fresh air when someone knocked.

The second she touched the chain, it fell out of its slot. She undid the dead bolt and opened the door.

Patrick Gannon stood outside, leaning back for a good look at the overloaded gutters. “You can’t stay here,” he said.

He hadn’t even glanced at her, but she studied his long, lean body, different in jeans and a black sweater. Different, but no less devastating.

“Did you hear me?” he asked.

“It was a hell of a greeting.”

He seemed to see her for the first time. Heat invaded his eyes. He could hypnotize an unwary woman with a single glance. But she couldn’t force herself to look away.

“One more wet leaf and the roof will cave in.” He might have been talking ham sandwiches and coffee. His words didn’t affect her half as much as his husky tones.

“I’m not afraid.” She shuddered. “Spring’s here, so I’m safe until fall.” Safe? Not unless she could get rid of him. She had to get a grip. “They’re giving me a monthly rate, and I can’t afford anything more plush.”

He walked in as if she’d invited him. She stepped out of his way.

“The room smells of mold.” He crossed to the heat, tapped the vents and then wiped his hands on his legs. “How do you feel about carbon monoxide?”

“Don’t say stuff like that. I scare easy.” She closed her mouth with a snap. “Honestly, I’ve stayed in far worse. None of the guests knifed each other in the parking lot last night, and I got a free show.” She pointed to the Crowded Beer Case, a drinking establishment whose red neon lights flashed through the gaps in her drapes.

“Maybe you should put in a bid to buy the place.” Patrick filled the room with broad, unlawyerly shoulders. His sweater, probably cashmere, hugged his chest and tempted Daphne to run her hands over the muscles so finely delineated.

“All right. It smells bad, and it’s not exactly brand new. Why are you here?”

At last he met her eyes. “Raina wants you to stay with her.”

“I thought she and I talked this out.”

“She knows this place, and she’s worried you might not be safe.”

“So she sent her mouthpiece again?”

“She always assumes people listen to me because she does.”

“And you did manage to stop me from leaving this morning.” She said it just to see how he’d react. Was the same half-unwelcome attraction bothering him?

He ignored her comment. “If Raina had any idea what this place was really like, she’d lobby city hall to tear it down.”

“I’m fine here.”

He shrugged, “give me a break” written all over his face. Daphne shook her head, feeling her skin flush.

“I appreciate that you’re both concerned, but I wish she’d stop sending you after me.” In the silence, she waited for him to leave. He stood still. “I’m fine,” she repeated. “You can tell Raina.”

Again, he ignored her jab. “I’d call the biohazard team if the town had one,” he said, still eyeing her. He gave a wry smile.

Against her will, she smiled, too. “You’re a funny guy.” She moved away from him, trying to escape the seduction of his nearness. “But I’m not living off Raina.”

“Come work for me. I’ll pay you enough to get you out of here.”

“Is that another one of Raina’s ideas?” She wanted to know about him—why he was so willing to drop everything for Raina. Did he have romantic feelings for her? Was that why he was working so hard to make friends with her? Even giving her a way of supporting herself so she could stay in Honesty.

Daphne reminded herself she was trying to live her life a new way, without bitterness or resentment. “I’ll find a job,” she said. “You and Raina don’t have to worry about me.”

“Why not give my firm a chance?” He caught her arm, as he had that afternoon. She stilled, aware of the heat and heaviness of his hand. “We always need word processing,” he continued.

He must not know about her criminology degree or those golden days when her skills had been in demand.

With her free hand, she rubbed her mouth, suddenly thirsty as she remembered the despair of the postacquittal years. She’d never totally managed to drown her sorrow in one bottle after another, but her efforts had nearly destroyed her life.

“What?” A frown etched two small lines into Patrick’s forehead. “I don’t doubt you’re capable.” His gaze dropped down her body as if he were brushing fingertips over her skin. Daphne wanted to step behind a barrier, because her breathing and her breasts and her heartbeat had all reacted to his glance.

“What am I doing here?” he asked, his own voice tight.

“That’s a good question.”

He let her go and stared at his hands as if he’d betrayed himself. “This is your sister’s problem. She should have come herself.”

“You’ve done what Raina asked.” Seeing his obvious distress, she took pity on him. “Besides, I don’t know anything about computers. I’ve never owned one, so I couldn’t do your word processing.”

In the way of amateurs everywhere, she’d gone one lie too many. His skeptical grimace made her laugh with some relief.

“Did I go too far?” she asked.

“Who hasn’t used a computer these days?” He touched her hair. The mere heat of his body drew her. She wanted to move closer, so she glued her feet to the floor.

“What did you do before?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said as the past unrolled like film in front of her eyes, the blood, the pain and the disappointment that hurt more than a physical slap. She stepped back, afraid that her memories might somehow leap into Patrick’s head. “I searched for Raina. Shouldn’t you go now?”

“I want to know,” he said, unmoving, but obviously not unmoved. The sympathy in his eyes was more than she could bear.

Something had happened between Patrick Gannon and her. Feelings that ran too deep considering their short duration. “Should we trade?” she asked. “I’ll tell you personal things about myself if you do the same.”

He backed away, reaching the door with no haste, but sending a message of rejection in his frozen glance. The room fell away behind her.

“Your way may be right,” he said. “I had no right to pry. We don’t know each other, but I forgot that.”

And she forgot to breathe. In that moment, she sensed that if she made a move, he would stay. And they’d start exploring their feelings for each other.

So she remained still. Patrick opened the door. “I’m late picking up my son.”

“Your what?”

He was married? Leave it to her to choose a married guy. No wonder her inner alarm had been clanging with such urgency. Almost a full year in AA, and she still wanted to do things that were bad for her, such as letting Patrick matter.

“My son.”

“You’re married? I thought you and Raina might be…”

“No,” he said with enough emphasis to make it clear he’d denied the suggestion before. “I’m her friend. I’m also divorced.” Rage vibrated in his tone. Before she had time to ask why, he reached for the door. “Daphne, this chain is a toy. At least get yourself moved to another room.”

“I will.” She’d followed like some kid, anxious for a last glance.

Patrick’s scent wafted around her. His skin carried a memory of outdoors and spice. Too much aching intimacy had no place between strangers.

He looked at his watch, accidentally exposing the too-fast beat of his pulse in a vein on the underside of his wrist. “I have to get my son,” he said again.

She nodded, taking the hint of a second reminder. He was trying to put the boy between them, and she was glad to let him.

He crossed the sidewalk to the parking lot. “You should give Raina a call. She might be right about this place.”

Daphne noticed his matter-of-fact tone. Maybe her feelings were coloring the way she looked at him. She knew how to resist. She’d had some problems, a major one with whiskey, but men with eyes like ice and bodies like sin had never been an addiction.

“Thanks for the advice.”

A chill April wind blew through the open door. Bits of paper whispered across the parking lot.

Beneath the streetlights, his shiny car stood out from the dull vehicles around it. She pushed her hair out of her eyes, struggling against an insistent need to call him back.

Patrick opened his car door. “Get moved to a different room.”

She patted her back pocket for her key card. “Yeah.” She shut her door and made a beeline for the window shielded by a smudged curtain and a white sign that dripped the word Office in black.

Only several moments after he’d turned the car in a wide, swift circle, without looking at her, did she move away from her lookout position.

THE NEXT MORNING, the college student on duty behind the counter at Cosmic Grounds came to Daphne’s table and passed her a red Sharpie. Smiling shyly, he said, “I found this for you.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” He was already gone, the back of his neck shiny red.

She ducked her head and returned to the classifieds of the Honesty Sentinel.

Fortified by a cup of the kid’s strongest brew, she started her search. Pickings were slim, but she had to find something she could do. Then she’d worry about coming up with a résumé to impress a prospective employer.

Fifteen minutes later, she’d circled only three jobs that required no experience.

What would Raina think? It all depended on which Raina Daphne met here for coffee—the one who’d sat hunched in the corner of Patrick’s office chair, or the one who’d shown up at the coffee shop two days earlier. The second one didn’t seem likely to die of shame if her twin took a menial job.

Daphne rested her forehead in one palm and started at the ads again. She could always go back to jury consulting. Considering the mess she’d made of her last case, she could slip by the local jail and set the felons loose on an unsuspecting populace.

Inhaling with all her might, she swallowed hard. The negative stuff was getting too difficult to deal with on her own. She had to find a meeting. It had been over a week since her last one, but the thing they’d drummed into her addled head in rehab had been the importance of always finding an AA meeting.

“I thought I’d find you here. Good thing you keep coming, or they’d be out of business.” Raina’s voice at her side made Daphne jump.

Daphne set the marker on the table. “Hello, Raina.”

Today’s perfect outfit was a pink tweed suit and patent-leather pumps.

“Are you on your way to work?” Daphne asked.

“I had a meeting, but I’m planning to look for something like a job.”

“Like a job?”

“You know, one that pays.” Raina sat across the table. “My mother’s health began deteriorating after I finished college, so I helped her keep up with her charity work. We’re close to D.C., you know, but we’re such a small town in a small county. Our social services don’t always stretch to help everyone who needs them.” She smoothed her perfect hair. “When Mother couldn’t do everything she wanted, I did what she asked.”

“That’s good work.”

“But it was my mother’s. Not that I resented being her right hand. I enjoy helping people.”

“Who have you been helping? Children?”

“And adults. Anyone who doesn’t have a job. Anyone who needs something to eat.” She looked away and her uncomfortable expression made Daphne wonder if Raina thought she needed help, too.

“I’m fine. I don’t have your kind of money, but I don’t need to be rescued.”

Raina met her gaze straight on. “I wasn’t thinking of you that way. But I knew you’d take it personally.” She gripped another steamer trunk-size purse, this one in pale pink that matched her suit. “Remember, I accused you of coming for my money and I refused you before you got a chance to ask.”

“That’s true.” Daphne sipped her coffee. “I guess that proves something.”

“That I’m tactless?”

“No. That it’s easier to care for people you don’t know.” Daphne thought about all the people she’d assisted by selecting the juries that freed them. It had been great. She’d thought she was helping the innocent find justice until she’d actually learned the truth about her last client.

“I’d like to help you if you’d let me.” Raina flipped her bag open. She pulled out a square opaque plastic container, topped with a blue lid. “To make up for my heavy hand, I’ll admit I brought you breakfast. I’m sure they didn’t feed you at that hotel.”

“Let’s ask Patrick if anyone would be foolish enough to eat there,” Daphne said without thinking.

“He told me you were upset that I’d sent him.”

“Not upset.”

“You had every right to be. I don’t know why I didn’t come myself. Maybe then you’d believe I want you to stay with me.”

Her sister’s face revealed her regret. Daphne let her qualms go and leaned across the table to touch the container. “You cooked for me?”

“Not exactly.” Raina popped the lid. “I didn’t make it although I’m an excellent chef. But our cook made an egg casserole with prosciutto and Parmesan this morning—”

“Our cook?” Daphne pictured Patrick spooning something from a silver dish across a long table from Raina. Did he and his son live with her?

“Mine now, I guess.” Raina’s expression tensed and Daphne patted her hand.

“You mean she worked for your mother and you? I’m sorry.”

“Who’d you think might be living with me?”

Daphne wasn’t about to utter Patrick’s name. “No one.”

Raina’s skin stretched even more tautly across her high cheekbones. “Funny that we’re hurting each other even when we don’t want to. I’m not seeing Patrick Gannon. He’s been my best friend since childhood. His parents were my mother and father’s closest friends.”

“He says he’s divorced.”

“And he’ll be dealing with Lisa, who’s no picnic, until Will is out of college or older.”

She took another container from her purse and popped that lid, too, revealing fresh-cut strawberries, blueberries, grapes, pineapple and melon, all very tempting. Daphne licked her lips. She could see how Eve might fall for an apple.

“What’s with Patrick and his son?” she asked.

“His ex-wife did horrible things. Bad enough to ensure that she lost custody of Will. He and Patrick are both trying to get over her.” Another box held utensils. “She thought I was having an affair with him, too.”

“Were you?”

“You’re blunt.”

“We’re getting to know each other.”

“I never had an affair with my best friend, who was married and the father of a young son. I have some morals.”

“I’m sure you do, but things happen. People are complex.”

“Not me. Not that complex.” Raina waved at the bowls. “Eat up.”

Daphne pulled one closer. “Okay. I’ll interrogate you later, but people who say they aren’t complex usually are.” She studied the containers. “Are you going to share this with me?”

“I already ate. You should take better care of yourself. My mother believed that old adage about breakfast being the most important meal of the day.”

“You really do miss her.” Daphne’s own maternal role models had been so terrifying she’d been glad to escape.

Raina exposed her pain with a brief, sharp nod.

“You’re different today,” Daphne said. “A mix of yesterday morning and afternoon.”

“I didn’t know what to expect yesterday. In the morning, I assumed you’d come for the money, but then I was determined to make you stay.”

“Make me?”

“I managed, didn’t I?” Her smile melted most of the barriers around Daphne’s heart. “By last night, I had time to think. I feel a bit awkward this morning. Don’t you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Believing that you want to know me, but you don’t expect anything else from me seemed gullible, considering.”

“But now you trust me? How did you make that change so quickly?”

“I made a start.” Raina plucked a strawberry from the box and popped it into her mouth. “And I’m hoping for the best.”

“Finally, I see why Patrick is so protective of you.”

Raina didn’t answer, just looked at her like “What are you saying?”

“You’re innocent. An unkind person could take advantage of you.”

“Come on. I’m tired of hearing that. I’m as mature as any other woman my age. I’ve had a life.” Raina passed a white brocade napkin. “Did you and Patrick discuss a job?”

Daphne slid the napkin into her lap, anxious that no one else should glimpse it. The food was a delightful surprise—even though bringing one’s own food into a café was inappropriate—but the costly linen felt a little too much.

She picked up one of the heavy forks. “There’s an A on the handle.”

“For Abernathy.” Raina reached for the newspaper, scanning the three positions Daphne had circled. “What about the job?”

“I’m not going to work for Patrick. This really is the family silver?”

“We eat with it if that’s what you mean.” Raina ran her French-manicured index finger around the first ad. “Child minder?” She tapped her cheek. “That’s a fancy name for a nanny, you know. For Elena Hennigan and her husband. They want a live-in caregiver for their boys, but they don’t say so here because who wants to stay in someone else’s home these days? Do you want to live in and take care of toddler boys, aged four and two?”

“I want a job, but little kids make me nervous.” What if she only knew how to be the kind of child minder who’d made her younger years a living hell?

“Florist’s delivery?” Raina read the next circled item. “You’d find that fun?”

“Fun?” Daphne shook her head. “I need a job. Fun isn’t part of the equation.”

“But you’d like to enjoy what you do, wouldn’t you?” Raina studied her sister. “Do you ever wonder if you might be prejudiced against wealthy, spoiled women?”

Again Daphne admired Raina’s ability to laugh at herself. Another surge of affection warmed her.

“I thought of one other thing last night,” Raina continued. “I had one paying job.” Suddenly fascinated with the blue lid from the silverware box, Raina twirled it with her index finger and thumb. “I wrote papers for other students one term in college. If anyone had ever found out…”

Daphne formed the word What? with her lips, but couldn’t produce sound. Already, she’d built an image of her sister. Listening while Raina blew it up was like hearing a nuclear explosion. “You—?”

“My father was angry because my grades weren’t—” she lifted her head and shook it “—what he expected from an Abernathy. He threatened to cut off my tuition. I had to make money.”

“You cheated?” Daphne covered her mouth, but too late as the guy from the counter leaned in for a closer look.

Raina followed Daphne’s eyes. By the time she turned back, her skin was burnished pink. “You never did anything wrong?”

Daphne stared at the breakfast Raina had brought. “Plenty of bad stuff. Probably worse than you can imagine. But I never—”

“Well, now you know I’m not perfect.” Raina pushed her chair back. She waved at the plastic on the table. “Just throw that stuff away when you finish.”

“I’m not going to throw away your silverware. Raina, wait. Talk to me. I was surprised. I never meant…”

“You didn’t like what I said.”

She disappeared in a whirl of pink tweed before Daphne could gather up the silverware and damask and plastic and her own bag. Finally, with everything in her arms, she ran to the door.

As it closed in her face, she hit the glass, elbows first. Her right funny bone sang a teeth-clenching song.

“Hey,” said the kid behind the counter.

Daphne looked at him as she fumbled with the metal handle.

He nodded toward the square outside. “She’s mean.”

“She isn’t.” Already, she was protective of Raina, who’d dared to confess one sin. “Leave her alone.”

She finally got the door open and peered both ways on the sidewalk. A woman in red was pushing a stroller, and Daphne hopped back to give her room. A guy in a suit that had never touched a rack looked her up and down so deliberately she could almost see herself burying her fist in his stomach. Maybe she had something against rich, spoiled men, too. A little boy sailed his big, green plastic airplane just beneath her chin, roaring an engine noise.

She couldn’t see Raina.

“What’d you say to her?”

The kid from the counter had followed. Not much else to do.

She shrugged. “That I was disappointed in her.”

“I hate when my dad says that.”

She glanced at him. He nodded, wise despite his youth and coffee-stained Cosmic Grounds T-shirt.

“I was the mean one,” she told the kid.

She pulled out her phone and dialed Raina’s cell number. It rang and rang until voice mail took over. “Raina? I’m sorry. The things I did as a teen you wouldn’t believe.” Wrong tack. The truth was, she’d been shocked, a little dismayed that Raina’s halo had slipped.

Which was ridiculous. Raina would have good reason to board her windows and lock the doors when she finally heard the whole truth about her sister.

“Please, just call me. Trying again might be our best thing. I wouldn’t have the courage to ask you if you hadn’t come to me in the coffee shop yesterday.” She could hardly say her mistake might be a good thing, even though it made her see how much Raina already meant to her. “I think we’re starting to be sisters because I seriously need to explain.”

Chapter Four

MITCH ESPY CAME around his desk to take a check from Patrick’s hand. Every so often Lisa called Mitch with a request for money. Blackmail. As long as Patrick paid her, she stayed away from Honesty. And Will.

“Don’t worry.” Mitch laid a hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “If Lisa comes back, we’ll be ready for her.”

“She’ll be back. Don’t think for a moment she won’t. Just come up with a cogent argument for the day she takes us back to court. I’ll never allow her to be alone with Will again as long as I live.”

Mitch nodded. “I understand, but no judge in his right mind will allow her visitation until she takes care of the problem.” He waved the check. “This will keep her at bay a while. It’s money she wants.”

But Patrick, whose anger at her almost consumed him, didn’t believe that someday she wouldn’t remember how to love Will again.

“She wants the money for drugs, Mitch. I’m paying to keep her high.”

“I can’t argue the morals of that again. Will’s safety has to come first. Besides, if she could admit she’s addicted, she’d be in treatment.”

Talking about it—hell, thinking about it—made him too angry to think straight. “Send her the damn check and add the usual note. After she’s in treatment, she can get in touch.” His skin crawled when he thought how easily she could make her way back to town and into his son’s life.

Moments later, he was out on the sidewalk, hurrying toward his office. He still had an arraignment and a deposition to deal with before he picked up Will from his mother’s house.

Just then a spring breeze gusted across the square, lifting the hem of a printed, pale orange sundress on the woman seated on a bench. Daphne caught her hem and smoothed it over her crossed knees.

He slowed down. Adjusted his tie. Longed not to care so much that her bare legs looked long and smooth and he could imagine the infinite pleasure of stroking her skin.

“Daphne?”

She looked up, her eyes blank as her mind was obviously elsewhere. But when she recognized him, her body seemed to take over. She sat up straighter, lifting her breasts, tightening the cross of her legs.

“Hey, Patrick.”

Her voice was about three octaves huskier than Raina’s, and the sweet tones got inside his head.

“What’s up?” It wasn’t much. It was the best he could manage. “Did you get a new room?”

She looked blank again. “Oh. That.” She scooted aside in an unspoken invitation for him to join her. “I got distracted on my way to the office. The lock’s fine.”

“Are you nuts? You need iron bars, but the chain should at least work. Call the hotel and have them fix it while you’re out.”

Her smile mocked his naiveté. “You saw the place. I’m not sure that guy at the desk could unfasten his a—himself from the seat of his chair. He’s certainly not up to installing hardware.”

“Either change rooms, have him fix it, or I’ll come fix it.”

She stared at him.

“Most women would think I’m overstepping,” he said.

“Uh-huh.”

They stared at each other, and it was like drinking his fill when he was dying of thirst. Finally, he had to look away.

“Why do you care?” she asked.

Good question. One that had kept him awake for the two nights since he’d last seen her.

“Put it down to an urge to run my own patriarchal society. I look after your sister. I’m my mother’s financial adviser. For my ex-wife…” He’d nursed Lisa for years, thinking she was on the verge of death. “I’m tired of being responsible, but it’s a hard habit to break.”

“Okay. Don’t worry.”

“I will if you don’t get it fixed.”

“I can use a screwdriver as well as the guy in the office.” She lifted the paper he hadn’t noticed on her lap. “I’m looking for a job. Do you know a Mrs. Hennigan? She’s so desperate for child care she offered me the chance to look after her boys.”

“Did you accept it?”

“I saw her son Tyler riding their beagle. Tyler’s two, and the beagle must be about eighty-two. I figured I’d have to report Tyler to the SPCA, and that wouldn’t win me any points with his mommy.”

“What about the older one? Drake?”

“He hit me with a spitball in the back of the head before I could escape the house. Mrs. Hennigan says the boys are having separation anxiety since their last nanny left. I’m betting they could find her in the nearest home for child-care providers driven crazy by their charges.”

“What did you do before you came here?”

“Whatever.”

Oh, yeah. He’d already tried that.

“You weren’t boosting cars?”

“I’m not sure you’re joking.”

The suggestion seemed to spook him. “Why?” He shook his head. “Raina was right. I could find something for you in my office.”

“Don’t tempt me.” She pleated her skirt with her fingers, then added, “I upset Raina.”

He tugged at his collar, not wanting to know. “Yeah?” The arraignment, the deposition, his son’s fears, as well as Will’s longing for his mother, all had a place in line for Patrick’s attention. He had enough to do. Walking away from both Raina and Daphne would be the smartest thing to do. “What happened?”

“She told me something.” Daphne scooped her hair behind her ear. “I was shocked, and she got upset.”

“How could Raina shock you?”

Daphne twisted her mouth. “I’m not sure I can say.”

“Did you talk it out with her?”

“She walked out. I ran after her, but I couldn’t find her.” She went back to ironing her skirt with her index finger and thumb. “I’ve tried calling her, but she doesn’t answer. Is she good at holding grudges?”

“I can’t remember her ever holding one. Maybe if you gave me a little more to go on. Was this serious? Do you want me to talk to her?”

Daphne’s spontaneous laugh warmed him like the spring sun at his back. “I think I can handle apologizing myself. If she’ll answer her phone.”

“You matter to her,” he said. “Once you’re more at ease with each other, you’ll be able to argue and make up like normal sisters.”

“You know this because?”

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