here it was. And stronger than he’d ever experienced before because it was so unexpected. Like the excitement he’d found only in his former work, and in the danger he’d chased on sheer rock mountain faces and rivers of roiling white water. He hadn’t felt this alive in a long, long time.
And a woman was making him feel that way.
Not a drugged-out street thug who mistook him for a cop, or even the wild ocean in the middle of an unexpected storm or dangerous rapids on the raging Colorado. It was a woman!
Please, God, let her be ditzy.
Sabrina MacFadden fiddled nervously with her water glass. Reese Howard was not the type of man she’d pictured. She hadn’t expected to feel a spark of desire when they’d touched. She shook hands all the time in her role as secretary to the vice president of sales. It was the kind of job that demanded lots of interaction and hand-to-hand contact, but nothing, nothing had prepared her for the shock she’d felt. More like a sense of rightness. A feeling that she’d met the yin to her yang.
He should have been some stereotypical newspaperman who looked like he belonged in another era instead of the muscle-bound guy sitting across from her. This guy probably had never encountered an obstacle he couldn’t conquer.
His biceps bulged when he pulled over an extra chair. She felt like a ninety-pound weakling despite the fact that she worked out. Well okay, jazzercise really only worked if you went every week, but still.
She’d never felt so feminine. Never been this close to a man whose testosterone level was so high she could almost smell it. He was a man’s man. The kind of guy who could walk into a roughhouse-roadside bar and feel at home.
His touch at her elbow when they’d crossed the street had burned through her thin summer suit jacket. For a minute she’d forgotten why she’d given up on men. But the answer rushed back. There was no mythical Mr. Right waiting out there for her. Just good-looking guys ready for a “good time” and then goodbye. Reese Howard would be no different, she reminded herself firmly.
“Do you like latte?”
“Yes,” she said. She’d become addicted to caffeine early in life when her maternal grandparents had fixed her “sweet coffee” in a demitasse.
He ordered fancy coffee for both of them, in a way that annoyed her. But she let it go because surely she’d annoyed him by being late. He probably needed to reestablish his position of control. Having worked with men throughout her career, she was used to the way they tried to hoard power and had learned to fight the big battles and let go of the little ones.
He propped his elbow on the table and watched her. It unnerved her. She wished she could see his eyes. Was he really looking at her? The mirrored shades showed her nothing but herself.
The woman looking back at her wasn’t one she embraced. It was a breezy day. Her hair seemed to have a will of its own, which dictated that it writhe around her head like Medusa’s snakes. Concerned that he’d give her a bad report to his boss, she tried unobtrusively to tame her hair with her hands.
Worry never solved anything. Calm down.
But she couldn’t. So much rode on the outcome of their initial meeting. What if he went back to his editors and told them to find a different woman for the artificial insemination article? She’d have to find a way to pay for it herself, and money was tight right now because she was saving to buy a house on Mount Tam. And banks liked to see money in your account before they lent you more money.
The only thing she owned of real value was the classic car her father had purchased for her the year she’d been born. And after his death two years ago she’d promised herself to never sell it. She would in an extreme emergency, but right now there was another option. An option that would bring her lifelong dream of being a mother to fruition.
She glanced out over the bay and remembered why she’d started making sacrifices. She had always wanted a large family, but her parents had been in their late forties when she’d been born and they hadn’t been able to have any more children. She missed her mom and dad, craving the bond of family the way some people craved money and others coveted power.
She craved children because a large hole in the center of her soul couldn’t be filled by work or dating. She needed to nurture a small being, to pass on the stories and skills she’d learned from her parents and leave behind a small piece of herself. And she wanted to start on her family before she was too old to enjoy a child.
Her failed marriage had proved the only way she’d have a family was to go out and create one herself. She needed the stability. She missed the love and caring. She wanted to be able to accomplish something meaningful before she died. She’d had one of her closest friends die last year from cancer. Sabrina felt everything happened for a reason. Marcia’s death had convinced Sabrina it was time to make changes. She wasn’t going to live forever.
The sun beat down on the back of her head, and despite an occasional breeze, she was hot. The sea air smelled sweet and she wished she were on the beach. Maybe holding hands with her faceless dream man. The one who always showed up in her fantasies but never in real life.
She wanted every detail of this interview to be perfect. Hopefully, the reporter would be so impressed by her, that he would make his editor understand why it was so important she have a child. She must make up for the ground she’d lost by being late. The magazine hadn’t paid for anything yet—this interview would be the deciding factor.
Once their lattes arrived, Reese removed a narrow pad from his back pocket. “Tell me about your decision to have a child by yourself.”
He removed his sunglasses, and she found herself staring into eyes the color of the darkest night. They had to be brown, she thought, but they were so dark they seemed black. The lines of his face showed signs of hard living and time in the sun. She’d always been attracted to outdoorsy men. Reese Howard was rugged and drop-dead gorgeous—and he’d been eyeing her when she’d walked up to him.
“I’m lonely,” she said at last, thinking of this past solitary Christmas. All of her friends spent the time with family, and though Kayla had insisted she’d be welcome with her family, Sabrina simply couldn’t spend the holiday with her friend.
It would have demonstrated to Kayla and the world what Sabrina didn’t have. It was then that she’d made her decision to have a child. The idea had been in her mind for months, but sitting in front of the gaily decorated Christmas tree by herself had focused her resolution.
He didn’t write that down. He set a ratty-looking pen on the table and leaned forward, bracing his weight on his folded arms. The breeze kicked up again and ruffled the hair that brushed the back of his collar. He needed a haircut, she thought.
“Lonely how?” he asked, his voice raspy. The kind of voice her faceless dream lover had. The sexy tone made her shiver inside her coat and she rubbed her arms to dispel the sensation.
She began to feel more at ease and practically forgot that this wasn’t a casual meeting between friends, but a business interview. He made her feel as if she were the only woman in the world. What she had to say was important to him, she realized. “I have no family. Everyone at work has a family, some are close-knit, some complain about family members, and I have no one.”
He narrowed his eyes and looked out over the bay. Sailboats, wind surfers and water skiers peppered the water. “Are you an orphan?”
“Not
