of their marriage. The financial world had assumed that Deidre and Nick, co-owner and leader of the DuBois conglomerate, would be natural adversaries. As an insider and friend to the couple, however, Ryan knew that immense wealth, media speculation and glitz and glamour aside, Deidre and Nick were deeply devoted to one another.
“Hi, what’s up?” she asked.
“If it’s all right with you, I’m going to have Scott fly in commercial to take you back to Lake Tahoe in a few days,” he said, referring to Scott Mason, the other pilot that worked for his company, Eagle Air.
“That’s fine with me,” Deidre replied. “But is everything all right?”
“Yeah. I just got some news that is going to make it necessary to spend more time here in Michigan.”
“Good or bad news?”
Ryan considered the question as he put the car in Reverse.
“Shocking...confusing...but good,” he said. “Definitely good.”
“I can’t wait to hear about it.”
“You will, eventually. It’s not the kind of news that can stay a secret for long,” he said dryly before he said his goodbye.
* * *
At six that evening Faith smoothed the black skirt over her hips and turned to examine herself in profile in the bathroom mirror. She hadn’t gained a single pound so far with her pregnancy, something that her obstetrician insisted was perfectly normal for the end of the first trimester. Nevertheless her body weight seemed to be redistributing. There was a subtle curve to her once-flat belly and her breasts were starting to threaten to burst out of her bras. Faith kept having the strangest sensation that she was transforming...blooming like a flower.
She heard a knock at her front door. Topsy, her new puppy, began to yap loudly from the utility room. Her reflection in the mirror had previously been rosy-cheeked in anxious anticipation at going to dinner with Ryan. At the sound of his knock all of the color drained away.
She left the bathroom and hurried down the hallway to the front door. She couldn’t help but relive racing toward the front door to greet him on Christmas Eve. Tonight’s anxiety was worse, though. Much worse.
She swung open the front door. “Hi,” she greeted upon seeing his tall, broad shouldered shadow on her stoop. “Come on in. I’m sorry about the racket.”
“You got a dog?” Ryan asked, stepping into the foyer. Faith backed up, making room for him.
“Yes. A few weeks ago,” she said, switching on the foyer light. For a split second they both examined each other. Faith blushed. Was he, too, recalling the other time he’d entered her house and they’d stood in this exact spot, inspecting each other with a sort of breathless curiosity? He looked fantastic—male and rugged, wearing a pair of jeans that emphasized his long legs and narrow hips, a white shirt and a worn dark brown leather flight jacket.
“You look great,” he said.
“Thanks. You like nice, too,” Faith murmured, feeling embarrassed. She’d worried she’d overdressed in the black skirt, leather boots and forest-green sweater. They weren’t going on a date, after all. Despite that, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from taking extra time with her grooming, even spending the ridiculous amount of time it took to straighten her hair with a flatiron.
She waved toward the interior of the house. “I just have to put Topsy in her crate, and I’ll be ready to go.”
“Topsy?” he asked, and she realized he was following her. She glanced over her shoulder.
“Yes, she was the runt of the litter from one of my oldest patients, a golden retriever named Erica,” Faith explained breathlessly as they walked through the dining room and entered the kitchen. “All of Erica’s purebred puppies went like hotcakes, but we had more trouble finding homes for this litter. Erica had an unexpected love affair with a local playboy—a spaniel-poodle mix. I was able to find homes for all of Topsy’s brothers and sisters, but poor Topsy remained unclaimed.”
“And so you couldn’t resist adopting him...her?”
“Yes. Topsy’s a she.”
“You told me on Christmas Eve that you had a strict rule about pet adoption.”
Faith paused next to the gaited entryway to the utility room. She blinked when she saw Ryan’s mouth curved in a grin, his gaze warm on her face.
“If I took in every patient who needs a home that comes through my practice I’d be out of a home myself,” she said.
Ryan didn’t speak, just continued to study her with that knowing, sexy smile. Topsy yapped impatiently behind her.
Faith sighed and shrugged sheepishly. Ryan had her number, all right. “Well, I had a moment of weakness when I looked into Topsy’s brown eyes. And like I told you,” she said, her cheeks turning warmer even at the memory of their former meeting here in this house, “I had to take in Cleo—she’s diabetic, and I couldn’t convince anyone to do her injections every day. Smokey doesn’t count, either, because who wouldn’t give a home to a little thing like that?” Faith said, waving at the three-legged, pale gray cat that hobbled fleetly into the kitchen after them.
“There’s no reason to be apologetic because you have a kind heart,” he said quietly. He glanced down to his feet when Smokey brushed against his ankles. He bent and stroked the affectionate feline. Faith had been so offset by his candid compliment that she was glad for the interruption.
“Are you still serving as the president of the Animal Advocates Alliance?” he asked a moment later, standing.
“Oh, yes,” Faith said enthusiastically, glad for a safer topic. Ryan knew about her charity work from Jesse. She’d been extremely touched when he’d made a generous donation to both the Armed Forces Foundation and the Animal Advocates Alliance in Jesse’s name following the chopper crash that had killed him. She unhooked the gate that kept Topsy in the utility room. “The annual fundraiser ball is next week. I put a lot of hard work into it. Well?” she asked, glancing back at him. “Would you like to meet the Queen of Cute?”
“I can’t wait,” he said, walking toward her.
She started to open the gate wide enough for both of them to squeeze into the utility room without releasing the excited puppy, but noticed Ryan stared at her back door.
“What happened here?” he asked, pausing to look at the improvised “lock”—a thick piece of wood nailed to each side of the door. His eyebrows slanted in worry. “Nobody tried to break in, did they?”
“Oh, no. It’s nothing. The old lock came loose, and I haven’t had a chance to hire a locksmith to come and replace it yet.” She shrugged. “It’s not very pretty, but it’ll keep things out. I’ve had a real rush of patients at my office as the weather warms up, and I just haven’t had a chance to get it fixed.”
“I’ll come and put a lock on it tomorrow.”
“Ryan, that’s not necessary,” she said, set off balance by his steadfast offer.
“It’s not a big deal.” Instead of waiting for her to inch
