“It’s windier up here than down in the city. You’re obviously getting cold,” Ryan said.

“Oh, a few minutes won’t hurt. I want to see the site for your future home,” Carolyn said, then shivered.

Ryan encircled her with his arms, stepping close to nestle her to him. Carolyn stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, savoring the warmth of Ryan’s massive, powerful body.

Oh, he was so strong, yet so gentle. She was definitely not cold any longer. The heat emanating from Ryan was suffusing her, causing her heart to quicken its tempo. The heat was growing hotter, beginning to burn within her with licking flames of desire.

Move away, Carolyn, she ordered herself. This was dangerous, was too intimate and… It was as though she and Ryan had been transported to another world where no one existed but the two of them. And in this world, they were free to do whatever felt right and real.

Dear Reader,

While taking a breather from decorating and gift-wrapping, check out this month’s exciting treats from Silhouette Special Edition. The Summer House (#1510) contains two fabulous stories in one neat package. “Marrying Mandy” by veteran author Susan Mallery features the reunion of two sweethearts who fall in love all over again. Joining Susan is fellow romance writer Teresa Southwick whose story “Courting Cassandra” shows how an old crush blossoms into full-blown love.

In Joan Elliott Pickart’s Tall, Dark and Irresistible (#1507), a hero comes to terms with his heritage and meets a special woman who opens his heart to the possibilities. Award-winning author Anne McAllister gets us in the holiday spirit with The Cowboy’s Christmas Miracle (#1508) in which a lone-wolf cowboy finds out he’s a dad to an adorable little boy, then realizes the woman who’d always been his “best buddy” now makes his heart race at top speed! And count on Christine Rimmer for another page-turner in Scrooge and the Single Girl (#1509). This heart-thumping romance features an anti-Santa hero and an independent heroine, both resigned to singlehood and stranded in a tiny little mountain cabin where they’ll have a holiday they’ll never forget!

Judy Duarte returns to the line-up with Family Practice (#1511), a darling tale of a handsome doctor who picks up the pieces after a bitter divorce and during a much-needed vacation falls in love with a hardworking heroine and her two kids. In Elane Osborn’s A Season To Believe (#1512), a woman survives a car crash but wakes up with amnesia. When a handsome private detective takes her plight to heart, she finds more than one reason to be thankful.

As you can see, we have an abundance of rich and emotionally complex love stories to share with you. I wish you happiness, fun and a little romance this holiday season!

Karen Taylor Richman

Senior Editor

Tall, Dark and Irresistible
Joan Elliott Pickart

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Autumn and Kate,

special little ladies

of two worlds.

JOAN ELLIOTT PICKART

is the author of over eighty-five novels. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys reading, gardening and attending craft shows on the town square with her young daughter, Autumn. Joan has three all-grown-up daughters and three fantastic grandchildren. Joan and Autumn live in a charming small town in the high pine country of Arizona.

Contents

Prologue

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

Epilogue

Prologue

“I’m here as summoned,” Ryan Sharpe said, smiling as he sank onto the butter-soft leather chair next to the fireplace in Robert MacAllister’s study. His grandfather sat in a matching chair across from Ryan, the leaping flames of a warming fire crackling in the hearth separating the two men.

“I’m honored to be included as one of your grandchildren in your secret mission to give each of us a special gift at a time of your choosing.”

“You know that I’ve considered you my grandson ever since Ted and Hannah adopted you in Korea when you were six months old,” Robert said. “The Sharpe family had always been a part of the ever-growing MacAllister clan.

“I’m very proud of you, Ryan. You’ve worked extremely hard and are a valued member of the team at MacAllister Architects.” He chuckled. “And like the others who have already received their gifts, you’re early for our meeting.”

Ryan laughed.

“As you know, it’s up to you whether you choose to tell anyone what I give you this evening. That’s entirely your decision to make.”

Ryan nodded.

Robert frowned and studied Ryan for a long moment before speaking again, causing Ryan to shift uncomfortably in his chair under his grandfather’s intense scrutiny.

“I wish I had some magical words to say to you, or a mystical wand to wave,” Robert finally said quietly, “that would create peace within you, Ryan. I’ve watched you struggle with your mixed heritage for so many years, and it’s heartbreaking to know you feel as though you don’t really fit in here—or in Korea.”

Ryan sighed. “I hoped that the trip I just made to Korea would bring me that peace, make me feel as though I’d found the place where I really belong, but it just didn’t happen.

“So, here I am, half and half, not fitting in anywhere. People stared at me in Korea because I’m six feet tall like my birth father and have wavy brown hair, yet my eyes are almond shaped like my birth mother, and my skin is tawny. The journey to Korea only emphasized to me that I’m different.”

“Mmm,” Robert said, nodding.

“Please don’t misunderstand me, Grandpa,” Ryan said, leaning forward. “I have the greatest, most loving parents that any guy could have. I’m very grateful for them and for the entire MacAllister family. My problems are my own. I’m beginning to believe, though, that I’m never going to get a handle on this war I continually fight within myself.”

“Which brings us to the subject of your special gift,” Robert said, getting to his feet.

He crossed the room to his desk and returned to settle again in the chair, holding a white box that was approximately a ten-inch cube. He stared at the box, then extended it toward Ryan.

“I give you this with love,” Robert said, “and pray that it helps you quiet your demons.”

Ryan set the box on his thighs, then carefully removed the lid. He pushed back the white tissue paper, then his breath caught. With hands that were not quite steady he reached in and gently withdrew the special gift.

It was a globe.

Nestled on a dark, wooden stand was an exquisite, intricately detailed antique globe, the creation being a total of about seven inches tall. It was made of such fine china that the glow of the flames from the fire could be seen through the sphere.

“It’s…it’s beautiful,” Ryan said, awe ringing in his voice. “Absolutely incredible. I…I don’t know what to say, Grandpa.”

“Then just listen to me please, Ryan,” Robert said quietly, as he leaned forward. “You’re holding the world in your hands at this very moment. Don’t you see that you are so much bigger than it is, than the prejudices that world might have?

“The whole world is yours. Oh, my dear boy, don’t be so driven to find your place in it, to feel that you must choose between your two unique cultures. Embrace them both, realize how blessed you are to have them. Each gives you rare and wonderful gifts. Accept who you are and be at peace.

“I hope that whenever you look at the globe, you’ll remember what I’ve said tonight. I pray that it will ease your pain and make your path easier in the future. I love you, Ryan.”

“I love…” Ryan said, then tears filled his eyes. “I love you, too, Grandpa. I’ll treasure this gift for the rest of my life, and I swear to you that I’ll try even harder to find that inner peace. I’ll look at this globe every day and hear your words and…thank you.”

Ryan swallowed heavily. “But thank you isn’t big enough to express how I feel. You put so much thought and love into choosing this globe for me and…” Emotions closed his throat and he shook his head.

“Your thank-you will do just fine,” Robert said, smiling. “Now, go home, Ryan. Take your globe…your world…with you, along with a firm resolve to become a man at peace with who and what he is. God bless you, my beloved grandson. Good night.”

Ryan nodded, replaced the globe carefully in the box, covered it and got to his feet. Unable to speak past the lump in his throat he gazed at his grandfather and saw tears matching his own shimmering in the older man’s eyes.

After a long moment, Ryan turned and walked from the room, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

Chapter One

One Year Later

Hands across the Sea International Adoptions was located on the fourth floor of an office building in Ventura, but was bursting at the seams and needed more office space. A new spacious structure was going to be on a piece of land donated by a grateful couple who were overjoyed with their newly adopted daughter. Ryan had agreed to present the plans for another architect at the firm who was still on vacation.

He entered the office and glanced around, deciding immediately that he liked the classy but welcoming reception area that had been decorated in colors of country blue and raspberry. Numerous plants gave it a homey touch, and a play area in a corner was equipped with toys, a small table and chairs. He approached the smiling receptionist and gave her his name and the purpose of his visit.

“Oh, yes, Mr. Sharpe,” the young woman said, “they’re expecting you, but we’re running a little late this morning. If you don’t mind waiting in Ms. St. John’s office, she’ll be with you in just a few minutes. Carolyn St. John is our assistant director, and is in charge of Asian adoptions. The head of the agency is tied up in an overseas conference call.”

“No problem,” Ryan said. “Just point me in the right direction.”

The receptionist got to her feet. “I’ll show you the way. Would you care for a cup of coffee or tea?”

Ryan declined the offer and was deposited in a large office decorated in the same colors as the front area. A stack of files was on top of a desk, filing cabinets lined one wall and two chairs were placed in front of the desk. He leaned the cardboard tube against one of the chairs, then his glance fell on the wall behind the desk.

There were more than two dozen framed photographs of Asian children ranging in age from, Ryan guessed, maybe two or three months up to eight or nine years displayed on the wall. He frowned as he slowly studied each photograph, his gaze lingering on the pictures of the older children.

Memories from years ago hammered against his mind, causing him to feel a chill.

He was seven or eight years old and seated in a restaurant booth with his adoptive parents and older sister, Patty, who was a carbon copy of their mother.

He saw the speculative looks from the other diners as they scrutinized the Sharpes, then whispered among themselves. He was sure they were saying that, for some unknown reason, his parents had decided to complete their family by adding a foreign child, who stuck out like a sore thumb.

He recalled an open-house night in elementary school during which his teacher commented that she hadn’t realized Ryan was a foster child, then apologized quickly when Ted informed her that Ryan was their son.

He remembered the day that Patty had come home from school in tears, saying some of the older kids had taunted her, saying her mother must have been getting it on with the gardener or the grocery man. They couldn’t imagine why Patty would have such a weird-looking younger brother who obviously wasn’t really a Sharpe.

Then later in high school… No, enough of this. Enough.

Ryan shook his head to fling into oblivion the disturbing images of days long past, drew a deep, steadying breath, then stared at the photographs again.

Carolyn St. John rushed to the open doorway of her office, prepared to apologize to Mr. Sharpe for keeping him waiting. She stopped so abruptly she teetered slightly and completely forgot what she was going to say.

My goodness, she thought, as she swept her gaze over the man standing in front of her desk. Mr. Ryan Sharpe was, without a doubt, one of the most handsome, well-built men she had ever seen.

He was, she guessed, about six feet tall, had dark brown, wavy hair, tawny skin, and drop-dead gorgeous, extremely dark, almond-shaped eyes. His suit was obviously custom-tailored and accentuated his broad shoulders and long, muscular legs.

There was an—oh, what should she call it—a blatant masculinity emanating from Ryan Sharpe, a sensual male something that was causing her heart to do a funny little flutter and a flush of heat to stain her cheeks.

Well, this was ridiculous, to say the least, Carolyn thought, drawing a much-needed breath. She was reacting to Mr. Sharpe like an adolescent girl who found herself in a dither because she was in close proximity to the popular football quarterback in high school. Enough of this nonsense.

“I’m sorry to have—” Carolyn started, as she walked forward. She stopped speaking as she heard the breathy quality of her voice, cleared her throat and tried again. “—kept you waiting, Mr. Sharpe.

“I’m Carolyn St. John. The others are waiting for us in the conference room to review the plans you’re presenting for the new building. Our director, Elizabeth Kane, will join us as soon as she finishes with an overseas telephone call. Were you offered something to drink?”

Ryan pulled his gaze from the photographs and turned to look at Carolyn St. John.

Pretty woman, he thought immediately. Really lovely. Carolyn St. John was about five foot six, slender, had curly dark hair that sort of fluffed around her face and fell to just below her ears and the bluest eyes he had ever seen. Nice. Very, very nice.

She was wearing a long-sleeved blue dress that matched her eyes with a swirly-looking skirt that came to just below her knees and revealed shapely calves and ankles. Her only jewelry was a gold locket on a delicate chain.

But he’d been so engrossed in looking at the pictures on the wall that he hadn’t heard one word she had said beyond asking if he’d been offered refreshments.

“Yes, thank you, but I don’t care for anything to drink,” he said, smiling slightly. He switched his gaze back to the wall of pictures. “I assume these are children from overseas that have been adopted by their new American parents.”

“Yes, they are,” Carolyn said, closing the distance between them.

Oh, Ryan Sharpe smelled good, too, she thought rather giddily. He was wearing a woodsy-scented aftershave that suited him perfectly.

“I’m in charge of Asian adoptions,” she said, “as well as being the assistant director of the agency. Those are photographs of children from various Asian countries I’ve placed with couples and single people in the States.” She smiled. “It’s my gallery of happiness and dreams come true.”

“Happiness and dreams come true,” Ryan said quietly, but with a slight edge to his voice, “for the parents. I qualify to have my baby picture on a wall like that because my parents adopted me from Korea.”

Ryan paused and looked at Carolyn St. John again, a deep frown on his face.

“I know you believe you’re performing a service here by providing these children with a chance at a life far better than the one they would have had in an orphanage,” he went on, “and you are, to a point.

“But have you ever considered the far-reaching ramifications, Ms. St. John, of placing foreign children with American parents? Have you thought about what it’s like for those kids when they realize they are different, just don’t fit in? Do you ever think about that, when you’re handing out cute little babies from overseas?”

“First of all, Mr. Sharpe,” Carolyn said, with a flash of anger, “we don’t hand out those children to just anyone. You’re obviously only part Korean but…” She planted her hands on her hips. “I’m sorry if you had difficulties with your mixed-heritage while growing up, but no, I’m not going to justify what I do here, to someone who has a chip on his shoulder as wide as Toledo.”

Carolyn narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin. “If you’ll follow me, please,” she said coolly, “we’ll join the others and you can present the plans for the new building.”

Carolyn spun around and marched from the room.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I…” Ryan stopped speaking as Carolyn disappeared from view. “Damn.”

Ryan shook his head in self-disgust, then grabbed the cardboard cylinder. He stared up at the ceiling for a long moment, then drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly with the hope of dispelling the anger he felt for his behavior.

Man, he thought, who had put a rotten nickel in him, causing him to mouth off like that? Those photographs had caused painful memories to rise up from some dusty corner of his mind and slam against him like physical blows.

But that was no excuse for what he had just done and said. Not only had he represented MacAllister Architects very poorly, he had also alienated a very attractive woman. A woman, who when angry, had eyes like incredible blue laser beams and a pretty flush on her cheeks.

He had to apologize to Carolyn St. John, make amends…right now.

Ryan left the office and looked down a hallway, seeing Carolyn waiting for him at the far end of the corridor. She had her arms crossed beneath her breasts and was tapping the toe of one shoe impatiently.

She was definitely angry at him, Ryan thought, starting toward her, not smiling.

Ryan strode down the hall and stopped in front of Carolyn.

“Look, I want to say that I…” he started.

“The others are seated inside,” Carolyn said, cutting him off as she spoke to the knot of his tie. “We’re running late as it is, so shall we go in, Mr. Sharpe?”

“It’s Ryan and…”

Carolyn swept one arm through the air. “After you. I’m just breathless with anticipation to hear what other pearly words of wisdom you have to offer…Mr. Sharpe.”

Ryan cringed as Carolyn’s words made a direct hit on his already guilty conscious, and he moved past her to enter the large room where a dozen people were seated around a long table.

Carolyn introduced Ryan to Elizabeth who introduced Ryan to the others as Carolyn took a seat at the far end. As Ryan spread out the blueprints in the center of the table, everyone got to their feet to see better. Carolyn rose but stayed at the edge of the group.

Ryan Sharpe, she fumed, might be one of the most handsome and well-built men she had ever encountered, but big macho deal. All the rugged good looks and nicely placed muscles in the world would not erase the fact that she did not like him.

How dare he pass negative judgment on her and the agency? He accused her of not knowing what it was like to be different? Oh, ha, a lot he knew. She had firsthand knowledge of that lonely status.

But no matter what difficulties he might have had while growing up, and no matter what problems the precious children she helped place with parents in this country might encounter, they were far better off here than lost in the shuffle in overcrowded orphanages and—

Oh, Carolyn, shut up, she told herself. She didn’t have to justify her chosen career to a narrow-minded hunk with an attitude. So there.

“Right,” Carolyn said decisively, then realized, to her embarrassment as everyone turned to look at her, that she’d spoken aloud.

“Well, good, Carolyn,” Elizabeth said, smiling. “I’m glad you agree that French doors leading to the courtyard are much classier than what we’d decided on earlier. It appears we’re in accord, Mr. Sharpe.”

“It’s Ryan, please,” he said to Elizabeth, then shifted his attention to Carolyn. “I’m delighted that you and I are on the same page…Carolyn.”

“Oh, we are…Ryan,” she said, ever so sweetly. “About French doors.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Did I miss something here, Carolyn?”

“No, Elizabeth,” Carolyn said, “nothing that deserves any further discussion. Are there any other changes from the original ideas we presented that we need to be apprised of?”

“Well, no, not according to the notes I was given,” Ryan said. “I just need Elizabeth to sign off on these plans and we’re all set. You can present these blueprints to your contractor. MacAllister Architects will have another set on file at our office in case any questions or problems arise during construction.”

“We’re going to have a ground-breaking ceremony with the press invited,” Elizabeth said. “I think I’ll buy a shiny shovel and put a huge red bow on it to turn over the first scoop of soil on our land and…”

As Elizabeth chattered on to Ryan about the ground-breaking ceremony, he smiled and nodded, then watched in frustration as Carolyn left the room without making eye contact with him.

At last able to escape, Ryan hurried to Carolyn’s office where she was sitting at her desk busily typing on a computer keyboard. Ryan stood in front of the desk and cleared his throat. Carolyn continued to type.

“Carolyn,” Ryan said finally.

“Hmm?” she said, her fingers flying over the keys.

“Look, I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I was way out of line, and I apologize for my outburst. It’s just that I… No, there’s no excuse for my behavior. I’d like to make amends. Would you have lunch with me? I’ll come back at noon and pick you up. Please?”

Carolyn stopped typing, pressed a key to save the work, then turned her head slowly to meet Ryan’s gaze.

“Lunch?” he repeated, producing his best one-hundred-watt smile. “Please, Carolyn?”

“I bet you’re accustomed to getting just about anything you want with that smile…Ryan,” she said. “Well, chalk this up as a new experience for you. Have lunch? With you? Do let me know if there’s any part of this reply to your request that you don’t understand, but my answer is really quite simple. No.”

Chapter Two

That night Ryan sat in his favorite chair in his living room, an open and forgotten book on his lap as he stared into space, frowning.

Carolyn St. John, he mused. The events that had transpired earlier continued to haunt him. In the silence of his apartment, there was no way to escape from again squaring off against his less-than-flattering behavior hours before.

Ryan sighed, leaned his head on the top of the chair and glowered at the ceiling.

Yes, he’d come a long way, since receiving the globe from his grandfather, toward achieving his goal of finding an inner peace about his heritage. But what he had done that morning was screaming the fact that he still had miles to go in his quest.

Even more disturbing, he mentally raged on, was the negative impression he’d made on Carolyn. He’d slam-dunked that lovely woman in an area of her life that was obviously of great importance to her. He’d infuriated her and very possibly hurt her, as well.

No wonder she’d refused to go to lunch with him. He was lucky that she hadn’t popped him in the chops.

Ryan set the book on the table next to him, got to his feet and began to pace restlessly around the large room, now and then dragging one hand through his hair.

He couldn’t just erase from his mind what had happened and go about his business. He had to make amends to Carolyn, not only to ease his conscience but because…well, because he was attracted to Carolyn and hoped the lack of a ring on her finger meant she was single and not involved with anyone.

Carolyn St. John, Ryan thought, continuing his trek, was a very intriguing woman. Her slender, small-boned stature gave the initial impression that this was a woman who needed protecting from harm’s way, should be taken care of, because she was…delicate.

But, oh, man, there was far more to Carolyn than the first glimpse would indicate. There was a depth to her, layers that beckoned to be discovered, one by one.

She was passionate, there was no other word for it—about her career, about the families she formed by uniting orphans from overseas with people who had empty arms and were aching to have a child to love and cherish.

She had a temper…oh, brother, did she ever…when an emotional button of importance to her was pushed by an idiot like himself who dared do such a stupid thing.

She was stubborn. He’d done everything he could think of at the time to set things right, mend fences, make amends for his crummy behavior, but she wasn’t having any of it, no way. She’d lifted that pert little chin of hers, nailed him in place with those expressive, dynamite blue eyes of hers and refused to go to lunch with him. She had said no in such a way that he’d known he had better hit the road while he still could.

“Oh, yeah, she’s really something,” Ryan said, slouching back onto his chair. “But, Carolyn, my sweet? I may have lost that battle, but this war isn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.”

With a weary sigh Carolyn entered her bedroom, eager to slip into bed and end this day that had seemed to be a week long.

That darn Ryan Sharpe, she thought, as she removed her dress, had taken up residency in her brain. Why was she wasting mental energy on a man she didn’t even like? He was rude and opinionated. He’d dumped emotional baggage on her about his heritage and practically condemned what she was devoted to, heart and soul and mind.

Clad in her slip, Carolyn crossed the room, plunked her elbows on the top of the dresser and scrutinized her reflection in the mirror with a critical eye.

What, she wondered, had Ryan Sharpe seen as a man looking at a woman for the first time? Well, she’d been told over the years that she was pretty, and she was, she supposed. Not gorgeous, nor stunning, and definitely not voluptuous, just sort of wholesome, picture-on-a-box-of-corn-flakes pretty.

Ryan was the type of man who could have his pick of gorgeous, stunning and voluptuous women. He no doubt drew women like bees to honey.

A chill swept through Carolyn as Ryan’s scathing words echoed in her mind.

“Stop it,” Carolyn said aloud, realizing she was close to tears. She wrapped her hands around her elbows and drew a steadying breath. “Oh, yes, Ryan Sharpe, I know all about being different, not fitting in. Being different, different, different.”

With a wobbly sigh that held the echo of tears, and with hands that trembled slightly, Carolyn reached up and removed her double hearing aids.

Three days later in the middle of the morning, Carolyn rolled her eyes heavenward and frowned as a young woman entered Carolyn’s office carrying a bouquet of flowers in a pearly blue vase.

“Oh, no, Janice,” Carolyn said, leaning back in her chair and covering her eyes. “Not again.”

“Peekaboo, these are for you,” Janice said merrily. “Again. This is the third bouquet in as many days, Carolyn. Everyone in the office is just buzzing with curiosity as to who your new suitor is.” She set the vase on Carolyn’s desk. “Whisper his name to me. I swear I won’t tell more than ten people who he is.”

Carolyn laughed. “Oh, really? That’s an offer I can barely refuse, but I’ll force myself to pass.”

“Well, darn it,” Janice said, then removed the small white envelope from the plastic holder and waved it in the air. “How much is this worth to you without my peeking first?”

“Your life.” Carolyn extended one hand and wiggled her fingers. “Give.”

“Shoot,” Janice said, then dropped the envelope into Carolyn’s palm. “The romance of the century is taking place here and we only know the identity of one half of the dewy-eyed couple. You.”

“I am not half of a dewy-eyed couple, for Pete’s sake. Goodbye.”

As soon as Janice left, Carolyn dropped the envelope onto the top of her desk and stared at it as she toyed with the idea of just tearing it in two and throwing it in the trash. She knew exactly what would be written on the card, as it would no doubt be the same words as the previous two cards that had arrived with the gorgeous flowers.

Carolyn, she mentally recited, I’m sorry. Please forgive me and agree to have lunch with me. Ryan.

“Oh, he’s driving me over the edge,” Carolyn said, snatching up the envelope and taking out the card. “Yep, there it is. ‘Carolyn, I’m sorry. Please forgive me and agree to have lunch with me. Ryan.’ Well, I’ve had enough of this, thank you very much.”

She removed the telephone book from the bottom drawer of her desk, plunked it on the desk and began to flip through the pages with more force than was necessary. When she found the number she wanted, she punched them on the telephone and heard the ringing on the other end of the line.

“MacAllister Architects,” a woman said cheerfully. “May I help you?”

“Ryan Sharpe, please,” Carolyn said, drumming the fingers of one hand on the top of the desk.

“One moment, please, and I’ll connect you.”

“A thousand one, a thousand two,” Carolyn muttered, “a thousand—”

“Ryan Sharpe.”

Oh, my, Carolyn thought. She didn’t remember Ryan’s voice being quite that deep, quite that rumbly, quite that…male and…

“Hello?”

“Yes,” Carolyn said, much too loudly. “I mean, Ryan? This is Carolyn St. John. You have got to stop sending flowers to me. I mean, they’re really lovely and it smells heavenly in here, but my office is starting to look like a garden or a funeral parlor.

“Not only that but the staff is having a field day trying to figure out who my romantic— That is, who is sending them and… It’s very disruptive to our routine. So just stop it.”

“Okay,” Ryan said.

Carolyn frowned. “That’s it? Okay? No pleading your case? Nothing?”

“Nope. I’ll stop sending the flowers as soon as you agree to have lunch with me.”

“That’s blackmail, Ryan Sharpe,” Carolyn said, smacking the desktop with the palm of her hand.

“Whatever works. Lunch? Today? I’ll come by your office and pick you up.”

“Don’t you dare,” Carolyn said, stiffening in her chair. “Everyone here will go bonkers if they can put a face with the flowers. No, no, no.”

“Then I’ll meet you wherever you say. Noon.” Ryan paused. “There’s a deli around the corner from your building that makes great subs, if you’re open to suggestions.”

No, not that deli, Carolyn thought. She’d gone there once, and the popular restaurant was so crowded and noisy that her hearing aids had shrilled painfully in her ears.

Oh, drat, she didn’t want to have lunch with Ryan. She didn’t want to even see the man again. The continuous stream of beautiful flowers had caused him to take front row center in her mind and follow her into her dreams at night. He was driving her crazy.

Well, there was only one way to end his ridiculous performance. Suffer through one lunch with him and that would be that. Fine. No, it wasn’t, but what choice did she have?

“Carolyn?”

“Yes, all right,” she said, sighing. “But not the deli. There’s a small restaurant that’s fashioned after an English pub in the next block. I can’t remember the name of it but…”

“I know the place. Nice choice. It’s very cozy, rather…intimate, shall we say. I’ll see you there at noon sharp.’ Bye.”

“Goodbye,” Carolyn said, then her shoulders slumped with defeat as she replaced the receiver.

At exactly one minute before noon, Carolyn stood outside the intricately carved wooden door of the quaint little restaurant, and mentally pleaded with the butterflies to stop their frenzied flight in her stomach.

She wished she’d worn something more flattering today, she thought suddenly. Her gray suit with the pink blouse was very professional, she supposed, but she’d had it for several years, and the cut of the jacket was out of style and borderline frumpy.

Oh, for Pete’s sake, what difference did it make? This wasn’t a lunch date where she was attempting to impress. She’d been blackmailed into this meeting, a fact she was still angry about.

So why was she so shaken up about seeing Ryan Sharpe again? Oh, forget it. There was no point in asking herself a question she didn’t know the answer to.

“Get a grip,” she ordered herself, then squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and entered the restaurant.

She stopped immediately to allow her eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight to the rather dim, rosy glow created by candles burning on each of the small, cloth-covered tables. A smiling man in a suit and tie suddenly appeared before her.

“Ms. St. John?” he said, complete with a crisp, British accent.

“Yes, but how did you know that I’m…”

“Your gentleman told me that a lovely woman with dark hair, and eyes the color of a summer sky would be joining him,” the man said. “You most definitely fit that description, madam.”

“I do?” Carolyn smiled. “Well, fancy that.” She frowned in the next instant. “What I mean is, yes, I’m Ms. St. John and I’m rather pressed for time, so if Mr. Sharpe has already arrived would you be so kind as to show me to his table…sir?”

“Of course. If you’ll follow me, please?”

Forget it, buster, Carolyn thought. The butterflies had now doubled in number, her knees were trembling and… She did not want to be here. She did not want to see Ryan Sharpe again. She did not want…

“Madam?” the man said, from several feet away.

“Oh. Yes,” Carolyn said, starting forward. “Certainly.”

As Carolyn followed the ever-so-proper man, she saw Ryan seated at a table in the distance. Her heart quickened as he smiled and got to his feet.

How strange, Carolyn thought rather dreamily. The butterflies had zoomed out of her stomach and fluttered down to create a magic carpet that was floating her toward Ryan, because she surely wasn’t doing anything so mundane as putting one foot in front of the other. Oh, no, not when Ryan was smiling that smile and gazing at her with those mesmerizing obsidian eyes of his.

“Hello, Carolyn,” Ryan said quietly, when she reached the table.

Hello, who? she thought foggily, then blinked.

“Yes. Well, hello, Ryan,” she said, tearing her gaze from his.

The man assisted her with her chair and she sank onto it gratefully, her trembling legs threatening to give way beneath her. She spread her napkin on her lap, smoothed it, then straightened the corners into a perfect square.

“I’m very glad to see you again,” Ryan said. “Thank you for coming, for having lunch with me.”

He was more than glad to see her, he thought. As he’d watched her come closer and closer to him he’d been consumed by a strange sense of…rightness, of her being where she belonged…with him. A warmth had crept around his heart, then, an instant later, coiled and churned low in his body as desire flared into flames of heat.

His intense reaction to Carolyn was unexpected, but here it was, and for reasons he couldn’t begin to fathom he welcomed it, embraced it, owned it willingly.

Carolyn slowly raised her head, looked directly at Ryan, ignored the pitter-patter of her heart and prayed to the heavens that she didn’t have a dopey, dreamy expression on her face.

“Let’s order our lunch, shall we?” she said. Oh, good grief, was that her voice, that I-can-hardly-breathe-when-I’m-this-close-to-you sound? “My desk is stacked with work. Said desk that will no longer hold flower vases because I’m here as agreed.”

“You’re dusting me off.” Ryan frowned. “Won’t you accept my apology for my earlier behavior? Give me another chance?”

Carolyn sighed. “So you can get on your soap-box? Ryan, you believe that bringing Asian children here is basically wrong because they don’t resemble their adoptive families or their peers. You feel that what I do, what I’m devoted to doing is right…only to a point. I don’t want to hear all that again.”

“I’m very sorry about what I said that day. Please, Carolyn, believe that. I’m extremely grateful for my loving family and the advantages I’ve had.

“Yes, I had some problems, but that’s no excuse for saying what I did to you, and I know that. Let’s start all over again. Okay? Have dinner with me tomorrow night? It will be Friday, the beginning of the weekend, a new beginning for us that can erase what happened in your office the other day. Please?”

Nope, Carolyn thought, deciding that her napkin needed attention again. She was not going out to dinner with Ryan. No way.

Then again… It had been months since she’d been on a date. Months. Ryan was charming, intelligent, so handsome it was ridiculous, and he had apologized about a gazillion times for the crummy, negative things he’d said that first day and…

It would be a nice change to go out on a Friday night, instead of spending another one curled up with a good book. Not that she didn’t like to read good books, but… Was she mentally babbling? Yes, she was, no doubt about it, due to the fact that Ryan Sharpe had the capability of throwing her off-kilter. But as long as she was aware of that fact, she could stay one step ahead of it, or ignore it, or whatever and…

“All right,” she said, looking at Ryan again. “I’ll have dinner with you tomorrow night, Ryan.”

“You will?” Ryan said, an incredulous tone to his voice.

“Yes.”

“Great. Fantastic. Seven o’clock? I’ll need your address, too. For the record, I want you to know that I was fully prepared to resume my flower crusade to get you to agree to dinner.”

“Oh, spare me.” Carolyn laughed. “The flowers were lovely, really beautiful, but the whole staff at the agency was hovering around, trying to get me to divulge who my admirer was.” Her smile faded. “I really don’t care for being the center of attention like that. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Uh-oh. Do I owe you another apology for sending all those flowers.”

“No,” she said, smiling at him warmly. “I’ve never had flowers delivered to me before. Not once in my life. They really were beautiful and…well, thank you.”

“You’ve never received a bouquet of flowers from a man?” Ryan frowned.

“Are you folks ready to order?” a waitress said, appearing at the table.

“Yes,” Carolyn said quickly.

Bless you, sweet lady, she thought. She didn’t want to go further down this conversational path of poor little Carolyn St. John, who had never been the recipient of a bouquet of flowers from a man who had centered his thoughts on her.

“What would you like to eat?” Ryan said.

“I have no idea,” Carolyn said, laughing, as she snatched the menu from the top of the table. “I’ll only take a second to decide, though. I really do have so much work to tend to this afternoon.”

“Fair enough.” Ryan opened his own menu. “We can make this a quick lunch and follow it by a leisurely, unhurried dinner tomorrow night.”

Yes, that was true, wasn’t it? Carolyn thought, scanning the selection on the menu. And it sounded very, very nice.

Chapter Three

Carolyn hummed a peppy tune as she turned one way, then the other in front of the mirror hanging on the inside of her closet door.

Excellent, she thought. The dusty-rose, lightweight wool dress she’d purchased during her lunch hour seemed even more lovely now than it had in the store.

The long sleeves closed at her wrists with three small pearl buttons, and three matching buttons formed a delicate line down from the round collarless neckline. It was simple, but she hoped rather classy.

Her strappy, two-inch-heel evening sandals and small clutch purse were just the right finishing touch. Her hair was freshly shampooed, her makeup applied with exacting care and she’d added a dab of floral cologne.

She was ready.

To see Ryan.

To spend the next handful of hours with an incredibly handsome man, who had not been far from her thoughts the entire day as she anticipated their evening together.

Carolyn closed the closet door, then stared into space with a slight frown.

She was behaving ridiculously, she thought. Good grief, she’d skipped lunch so she could go shopping for a new dress, had rushed home to shower and shampoo her hair, had spent a silly amount of time getting her makeup just the way she wanted it and…

Carolyn smiled. “And I’m glad I did.”

She snatched up the clutch purse from the bed, left the bedroom and went down the short hall to the living room where she set the purse on an end table.

She could tell herself, she supposed, that she’d gone to all this fuss and bother because this was her first date in many months and she deserved to go a bit overboard.

But that wouldn’t be true.

She was giddy and acting rather out of character because she was going out with Ryan Sharpe. There. That was the truth. She should probably be unsettled by that realization, but she refused to do anything to dim her euphoric mood.

She was definitely not going to listen to the nagging little voice in her mind that kept whispering the fact that she was not convinced, despite Ryan’s apologies, that he approved of her life’s work. It was there, that doubt, hovering in the shadows and…

Oh, Carolyn, stop it. This date wasn’t the beginning of anything of importance. It was just a night on the town with a dynamic man. She wasn’t going to analyze her behavior or Ryan’s attitudes to death, she was simply going to enjoy herself, feel pretty, special and feminine for a number of hours and that would be that.

“Go for it, Carolyn,” she said merrily, then spun around as a knock sounded at the door. “There he is. Right on time.”

Carolyn hurried to the door, opened it and made no attempt to curb her smile as she drank in the sight of Ryan Sharpe.

Yes, indeed, she thought, he was gorgeous. Dark-gray suit, black shirt, gray tie with a thin burgundy stripe and a burgundy handkerchief peeking above the edge of the pocket of his jacket. He looked as if he’d just stepped off the pages of a men’s fashion magazine and he was here to collect her for a dinner date.

This was stuff of which fantasies were made, and she intended to enjoy every moment of the night ahead.

“Hello, Ryan,” she said, stepping back. “Please come in.”

He would, Ryan thought dryly, if he could remember what it took to walk, breathe, perform like a normal human being. His heart was thudding so fast in his chest he was probably having a heart attack and would pass out cold at this beautiful woman’s feet.

She was exquisite.

He wanted to memorize every detail of her, then—oh, yeah—then pull her into his arms and kiss her until they were both weak with desire, need and…

“Ryan?”

“Hmm?” he said absently, then shook his head slightly. “Oh, yes.” He entered the apartment, then turned to face Carolyn as she closed the door and met his gaze. “You look so lovely, so pretty in that dress that I wish I could think of better words than lovely and pretty.”

“Well, thank you,” she said, a flush warming her cheeks. “You’re rather dashing yourself.”

“I’ve been looking forward to our dinner date all day,” Ryan went on.

“Really? Well, since you’re being so forthcoming, I’ll admit that I’ve had a sense of anticipation about it myself.”

“Good, that’s good.” Ryan laughed. “I would have brought you flowers, but I thought I’d better cool it in that department for a while. I wouldn’t want to trigger that temper of yours, Ms. St. John.”

“Heaven forbid, Mr. Sharpe,” she said, laughing with him.

“Shall we go? I made reservations.” Ryan glanced around the medium-size living room and nodded. “I like your place. It’s homey, warm and welcoming. This must be nice to come home to at the end of a busy day.”

“Yes. Yes, it is.” Carolyn cocked her head slightly to one side as she studied Ryan. “Isn’t your home warm and welcoming?”

“Not really.” He frowned. “I’ve never taken the time to do much more than buy and borrow the bare essentials of furniture with none of the touches that make four square walls into a home. But that’s going to change. I’ve decided that this is the year I draw up the plans for a house, have it built and get out of that drab, boring apartment.”

“How exciting. Was that your New Year’s resolution?”

“One of them. We really should be on our way.”

“You made more than one New Year’s resolution?” Carolyn said as they left the apartment. “I forgot to make any, which is just as well because I either forget what they were or realize halfway through the year that I wasn’t doing what I said I would. What else was on your list?”

“Oh, just this and that,” Ryan said, as they left the building. “Are you hungry? The restaurant I picked has great food.”

“I’m starved.”

As Ryan assisted her into his vehicle, Carolyn’s mind drifted back to the conversation they’d just shared about Ryan’s New Year’s resolutions. When she’d pressed him, he skittered away from the subject, had actually averted his eyes from hers at that moment.

Was that strange? she wondered. Oh, forget it. She wasn’t going to clutter her mind with unimportant questions. She seriously doubted that Cinderella used mental energy pondering over mundane details while she was on measured time with the prince.

No, Cinderella had savored feeling special and beautiful and devoted her entire attention to the prince until it was time to end the evening. And that was exactly what she was going to do.

“Tell me about this house you’re going to design for yourself,” Carolyn said, as Ryan drove expertly through the busy traffic.

“I don’t have anything etched in stone in my mind. I just know I want lots of space, big rooms with plenty of windows to allow the sun to come in from all directions.”

“Have you considered a fireplace? When we get some of those winter rains, it’s damp and chilly. Wouldn’t a fireplace with warm, crackling flames be heavenly?”

“Sold,” Ryan said, glancing over at her with a smile, then redirecting his attention to the traffic. “Add one fireplace. A flagstone fireplace, I think, banked by oak bookshelves that go all the way to the ceiling.”

“Perfect. Oh, this is fun. I can certainly understand why you chose to become an architect. You make people’s dreams for their special home come true. And this time, you’re fulfilling your own dreams.”

“Mmm,” Ryan said.

Not really, sweet Carolyn, he thought. The home he’d dreamed about for many years would have the sound of happy children’s laughter and the lilting voice of the woman he had married and pledged his love to for all time. But that was a forgotten dream.

During the hectic Christmas holidays, he’d managed to get in touch with himself and make some resolutions. As a step toward achieving some inner peace in regard to his heritage, he’d decided to remain single. He would date when he was attracted to someone. But he’d decided to watch and listen for any clues that might reveal that while a woman might enjoy his company, she certainly wouldn’t want to marry and have mixed-heritage children with him.

Ah, hell, Sharpe, he admonished himself. Don’t go there. Don’t do anything to mar this evening with Carolyn. Just don’t.

“A garden tub,” Carolyn said, pulling him back to the subject at hand. “You know, one of those enormous, raised bathtubs that are big enough for two people and…”

Her voice trailed off as sudden images of her and Ryan in a garden tub filled with warm water flitted through her mental vision. They were naked…of course. And there were fragrant bubbles across the top of the water like frosting on a cake. Champagne. Oh, that was a nice touch. They were sipping champagne from wafer-thin tulip glasses as they sat close together, gazing into each other’s eyes and…

Good grief, she thought, where was all this coming from? She didn’t indulge in erotic daydreams, for Pete’s sake.

“Then again,” she said, hearing the thread of breathlessness in her voice, “I guess most men prefer showers over baths, don’t they? Forget the garden tub.”

“Oh, I don’t know. That big tub you’re describing holds a certain appeal, I must say. I could add an enclosed shower stall for when I wanted a quick in and out, and use the tub for really relaxing, unwinding from a long day.”

“That works,” Carolyn said, nodding, “but let’s change the subject. I think it’s rather nuts to be discussing styles of bathtubs, don’t you?”

Not really, Ryan thought, because all kinds of decisions had to be made when designing a house. Discussing that garden tub, however, wasn’t a terrific idea at the moment because the mental picture it was creating was kicking his libido into overdrive.

“There’s the restaurant just up ahead,” he said, extremely glad to see the familiar building. “We’re shifting gears from bathtubs to delicious food.”

And none too soon, Carolyn thought, willing her racing heart to return to a normal tempo.

The restaurant was one of Ventura’s finest and most popular. Carolyn and Ryan were shown to a small table in one of the many charming alcoves, affording them enviable privacy.

They ordered from large menus edged in satin binding, Carolyn’s menu had no prices printed on the parchment where the selections had been done in calligraphy. Ryan chose, tasted and approved a fine wine.

They chatted about the clever additions of the alcoves in the restaurant, moved on to the subject of the weather, then the winning record of a local basketball team made up of firefighters, police officers and members of the city counsel.

Crisp salads were placed in front of them, followed by Carolyn’s order of baked salmon with dill sauce, and Ryan’s choice of an enormous steak.

“Oh, this is all so delicious,” Carolyn said. “I have a feeling I’m going to eat every bite.”

“You’re not alone in that. This steak is great.” He paused. “So, tell me about Carolyn St. John, Ms. Carolyn St. John. How did you settle on a career involving international adoptions?”

“Is this going to lead to another argument on the subject?” she said, smiling, while telling the nagging voice in her mind to hush.

Ryan raised his right hand. “No, ma’am. I solemnly swear it is not. I’m attempting to get to know you better, and since your career is a very important part of who you are, it’s a reasonable question. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said, laughing. “Well, I grew up in Arizona and my parents still live in Phoenix. When I was a senior in high school there was a career day held and I spent quite a bit of time talking to a representative from an adoption agency. Something just clicked, and I knew that was what I wanted to do, be a part of.”

Ryan nodded.

“I went to Arizona State University and lived at home to save money. I have a bachelor degree in social work and another in human services. When I was close to graduating, I got on the Internet to see what jobs were available, found the agency here in Ventura, and as they say, the rest is history.”

“Interesting. You have two degrees?”

“It made sense at the time.” Carolyn laughed. “Looking back I wonder how I did that, because it seemed I was always studying and never getting enough sleep.”

“Do you have brothers and sisters?”

“No,” Carolyn said, redirecting her attention to her plate. “I’m an only child.”

Because special needs children require a great deal of time, energy and money to raise, she thought. Due to that her parents didn’t have the big family they’d originally planned on, but continually assured her that she was so precious to them it didn’t matter one iota.

“Did you have a happy childhood?”

“My goodness, I feel as though I’m being interviewed for a magazine article or something,” Carolyn said, forcing a smile to her lips. “What about you? Do you have siblings?”

“An older sister.” Ryan studied Carolyn for a moment as he caught the fact that she had avoided answering his question about her childhood. “It’s a cool story. My father was a police officer and met my mom when she was newly divorced and very pregnant. He ended up delivering my sister himself before the ambulance crew got there. He considered Patty to be his daughter even before she was born.”

“Oh, that is so sweet, so romantic. And then later they adopted you?”

“Yeah,” Ryan said, nodding. “My dad had mumps way back when and wasn’t able to have kids. So…after a ton of paperwork and months of waiting, they flew to Korea and got me when I was six months old. End of story.”

“But it really isn’t, is it?” Carolyn said softly, looking directly at him. “You had a difficult time adjusting.”

Ryan lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Off and on. I think it was a bit rougher for me because I was half-Korean and half-American. But enough of this, unless you want me to rattle off a bunch of Korean for you. I took a class in the language before I made a trip to Korea about a year or so ago. I learned enough to get by over there, but I guess Korean spoken with an American accent sounds pretty weird, because I set off a bunch of people in fits of laughter at times when I was attempting to communicate with them.”

“Did you enjoy your visit there?”

“No,” Ryan said. “Are you going to have room for dessert? They have a Black Forest cake here that is sensational.”

In other words, Carolyn mused, anything that touched on Ryan’s heritage was closed.

The conversation shifted again as they finished their meal with Ryan explaining that the Sharpe family was considered to be official members of the large MacAllister clan.

“My dad and Ryan MacAllister were partners on the Ventura police force for many years before they retired. They named their sons after each other.” Ryan laughed. “Which is why my name is Ryan in case you’re not following all this. I have a bunch of cousins, aunts, uncles, a set of grandparents, the whole nine yards, who aren’t really related to me but—” He shrugged.

“But they love you and you love them,” Carolyn said, smiling.

“Yes,” Ryan said seriously. “Yes, I love them all, very much. Believe me, Carolyn, I know how lucky, how blessed I am to have been adopted by Hannah and Ted Sharpe. I not only have wonderful parents and a super sister, but I’m part of the MacAllister family, too.”

Ryan pushed his plate to one side and folded his arms on the top of the table.

“I’ve upset and—and hurt a lot of fantastic people,” he went on, “by my inability to find an inner peace. Last year my grandfather, Robert MacAllister, gave me a special gift, a…well, that’s another story.

“What I’m trying to say here is that my problems are mine, are within me, are certainly not caused by any lack of love showered on me by my family the entire time I was growing up.

“I’m working hard, very, very hard, at getting a grip on the whole thing. It’s coming. Slowly, but it’s coming…the peace, little by little.” He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “What I did, said, in your office, though, was a red alert to me that I have a ways to go yet. I really am terribly sorry about what happened that day. Seeing all those pictures of the adopted kids just triggered a lot of memories and… Ah, hell, there’s no excuse for my behavior and I sincerely hope you’ve forgiven me.”

“Of course I have,” Carolyn said, reaching across the table to cover his hand with one of hers as the nagging voice stilled. “I understand so much better now why— Oh, Ryan, I hope so much that you find your peace, move past your feelings. I understand about being different and…” Her voice trailed off.

Ryan frowned as he laid his other hand on top of Carolyn’s where it rested on his.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Oh, well,” she said, attempting to pull her hand free. Ryan tightened his hold, keeping her hand firmly in place between his. “I…my career. Yes. I help create families that are a mixture of cultures. I’m confident at the time a child is placed with the new parents that all is well in that arena, but sometimes there are doubts, a problem or two with the extended family…

“You know, grandparents who might have difficulty accepting this foreign child as their grandchild. I work with those people as much as possible so that the child will know he or she, is totally loved and that…um…being different really isn’t important, doesn’t matter, and—” She cleared her throat. “I’m going to be sinfully indulgent and have some Black Forest cake.”

Ryan stared intently at Carolyn, then released her hand when she tugged on it again.

Something isn’t right here, he thought. Carolyn had been scrambling for an explanation about what she had said about knowing what it was like to be different. She’d started talking too fast, had been nearly babbling with her dissertation about unaccepting grandparents or whatever. The color had drained from her face, too, and she hadn’t looked directly at him while delivering her sermonette in a voice that was trembling slightly.

Ah, Carolyn, Ryan thought, what’s going on here? What wasn’t she telling him? What secrets did she have that she didn’t trust him with? Yet.

Carolyn leaned back in her chair and produced a small smile.

“Enough heavy discussions,” she said. “Are you going to have some cake with me?”

“Sure,” Ryan said, signaling to the waiter. “Would you like coffee with it?”

“No, thank you. The water in my goblet will be fine. Maybe we won’t feel so guilty about being piggy and having Black Forest cake if we both eat it. You know, like partners in crime, or something.”

Ryan smiled. “There you go.”

The tension of what had just transpired dissipated when the gooey, cherry-smothered pieces of cake were set in front of them. The tension was gone…but not forgotten.

When they were driving away from the restaurant, Carolyn asked Ryan if he knew where he was going to build his dream home.

Ryan nodded. “I have a piece of land that was given to me by my parents on my twenty-first birthday. It’s a Sharpe family tradition to be given a piece of undeveloped property on the big twenty-one. We can sell it, keep it, build a home on it, whatever suits our fancy.”

“How marvelous. And you like the location of your land?”

“Oh, yeah,” Ryan said, nodding. “It’s on a rise and has an unbelievable view of the city lights.” He paused. “Would you like to see it? We could drive up there right now in this vehicle, even though there aren’t any paved roads leading to it yet.”

Ryan laughed. “There’s a new one for you. Instead of asking if you want to see my etchings, I’m suggesting that you look at a bunch of dirt and scrub weeds with me. Classy, huh?”

“To the max,” Carolyn said, smiling, “but I’d enjoy it, I’m sure.”

“Okay. We’re heading for the hills.”

Twenty minutes later, after a drive that slowly left the city behind and gradually gained altitude as Ryan wove his way upward, he stopped and turned off the ignition to the SUV.

He crossed his arms on top of the steering wheel and swept his gaze over the fantastic view of the city lights that spread out below as far as the eye could see in all directions. He looked over at Carolyn, who had undone her seat belt and was leaning forward.

“What do you think?” he said.

“It’s breathtaking,” Carolyn said, awe ringing in her voice. “Oh, Ryan, what an incredibly beautiful view this is. I could sit here for hours and just drink in the sight of it. It’s so perfect it looks like a postcard.”

“Mmm,” Ryan said, nodding. “Yes, it does, now that you mention it. Would you like to get out so you can see it firsthand instead of through the window?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Carolyn laughed as she opened the door and slid off the seat.

They met in front of the vehicle, and Carolyn wrapped her hands around her elbows as a chilly breeze caused her to shiver.

“It’s windier up here than down in the city. This isn’t such a hot idea, Carolyn. You’re obviously getting cold.”

“Oh, a few minutes won’t hurt,” she said, then shivered again.

Ryan stepped behind her and encircled her with his arms, stepping close to nestle her to him. Carolyn stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, savoring the warmth of Ryan’s massive, powerful body.

Oh, he was so strong yet so gentle, she mused. She was definitely not cold any longer. The heat emanating from Ryan was suffusing her, swirling inside her, causing her heart to quicken its tempo. That heat was growing hotter, beginning to burn within her with licking flames of desire.

Move away, Carolyn, she ordered herself. This was dangerous, was too intimate and… It was as though she and Ryan had been transported to another world where no one existed but the two of them. And in this world there were no rules of conduct that must be followed. They were free to do whatever felt right and real, theirs.

Oh, yes, she had to step forward, out of Ryan’s embrace that was muddling her thinking, and she would. In a minute. Or two. Three at the very most.

“I think,” Ryan said, his voice husky, “that I’d design the house so that there was a big deck in the back, here, so I could sit in a lounge chair and enjoy this view whenever I wanted to. What do you think?”

I think my bones are dissolving, Carolyn thought. She really was going to end this unbelievably romantic moment and replant her behind safely on the seat in Ryan’s vehicle. She certainly was. In…just…a…few…minutes, give or take a couple.

“That sounds like a great idea,” she said, ignoring the weird trembling of her voice. “Right up there on the top of the list with the fireplace and the garden tub.”

“Oh, man, Carolyn, you feel so good in my arms. You smell like flowers, do you know that? You hair is so silky, so…”

“Ryan…”

He shifted from where he stood to stand in front of her without totally releasing his hold on her. In the silvery glow of the millions of stars in the heavens their gazes met. Of their own volition, it seemed, Carolyn’s hands floated from where they still cupped her elbows to encircle Ryan’s neck.

And then he lowered his head and kissed her.

Oh, my, Carolyn thought.

Oh, yes, Ryan thought.

The kiss was tentative at first, then deepened, as Ryan parted Carolyn’s lips and slipped his tongue into the sweet darkness of her mouth that held the lingering flavors of chocolate and cherries.

Hearts beat in wild tempo, and heat licked throughout them. Flames threatened to consume them with an intensity of want and need neither had experienced before.

Ryan lifted his head slightly to draw a quick, sharp breath, then tilted his mouth in the opposite direction and claimed Carolyn’s lips once again.

Slow down, Sharpe, Ryan thought suddenly. He was losing control, was close to the edge. He had to stop kissing Carolyn now…right now. But, oh, man, how he wanted her. She was responding to him in total abandon, giving as she received. But he didn’t want to do anything to frighten her, cause her to refuse to see him again. He had to get a grip.

Damn it, Sharpe, let go of her.

Ryan broke the kiss, grasped Carolyn’s shoulders and eased her away from his throbbing, aroused body. She blinked several times, then drew a steadying breath.

“My…goodness,” she managed to say, with a little puff of air.

“No joke,” Ryan said, taking a step backward. He dragged one hand through his hair to keep from reaching for her again. “I think…we’d better go before— If I kiss you again I’m afraid I’ll…” He pointed to the SUV. “Get in the vehicle.”

A bubble of laughter escaped from Carolyn’s lips. “Do you want me to salute first, now that you’re barking orders at me?”

Ryan smiled, then drew one thumb over the soft skin of her cheek, causing a frisson of heat to slither down her back.

“Ah, Carolyn,” he said, “you are so special. I like being with you more than I can say.” He chuckled. “I don’t exactly hate kissing you, either, but I don’t think I can handle a long discussion about that part at the moment. Come on. I’ll take you home.”

Carolyn matched his smile and nodded. Ryan encircled her shoulders with one arm to lead her to the vehicle, but she hesitated, turning her head to look once more at the gorgeous view of the city lights below, etching it indelibly in her mind.

“Thank you for sharing this with me, Ryan.”

“Sure,” he said, as they started forward.

Except, maybe it had been a mistake to bring Carolyn up here, he thought, frowning. This was the place where he’d hoped and prayed he’d obtain the inner peace he sought.

But now? Carolyn had been here. Carolyn had shared kisses so incredibly passionate with him here. Carolyn’s image might hover here, haunt him in the future, make him ache with the want of her, emphasize his aloneness. His loneliness.

Knock it off, he told himself, as he assisted Carolyn onto the seat and closed the door. Why go looking for trouble that wasn’t even a reality? So he’d brought a lovely woman to his land, and they’d shared a couple of kisses under the stars. It wasn’t that big of a deal.

Was it?

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