making her feel cherished and safe in a way she hadn’t in a long time. And she missed her mom’s smile and warm understanding. She wanted one last hug from them, but knew, of course, she could never have it.
She longed to be a little person’s security blanket. The one thing that made a child feel safe in the middle of the night when scary monsters came to call. And later in life, when the teenage social scene left heartbreak, she wanted to soothe the hurt. She wanted to feel as if she was making a difference in someone’s life the way her parents had in hers. But more important, she wanted to share the joy of living with someone else. With family.
“I’m sorry,” he said. And she saw in his eyes that he really was. For an instant their gazes met and she felt that same current charge through her. Something shocking and unexpected, like a stream of warm water in the cool Pacific Ocean.
“Thanks. I still miss them,” she said. Tears burned the backs of her eyes but didn’t fall. She blinked several times and looked away.
“My dad is gone, too,” he said.
“What about your mom?” she asked, though it wasn’t her interview.
“She died giving birth to me,” he said in a way that didn’t encourage further questions.
She glanced back at him and was compelled to touch him. Taking his hand in hers, she rubbed her thumb over his knuckles. He stared at her for a long minute before finally turning away.
Sabrina looked down at their hands, startled again by his size. His hands were tanned where hers were pale. His skin callused where hers was smooth. His touch comforting where her life had been lacking for so long.
She pulled her hand from his slowly, reluctant to stop touching him. Shoving her hands in her lap, she forced herself to be more businesslike. No matter how comfortable she felt with him, he wasn’t her friend. He wasn’t her soul mate no matter how much his deep eyes made him seem so. He wasn’t anything more to her than a stranger.
“Why is having a child on your own terms so important to you?” he asked.
Sabrina looked out at the sea and gathered her thoughts. She knew why she wanted a baby, but she’d never put it into words. It was more a feeling of something that was missing.
“I’m not sure I’ll say this right, but it’s like there’s this big part of me missing. My arms ache to hold a baby—not my friends’ or co-workers’, but my own.”
She glanced up to see if he understood what she was trying to say. It was impossible to tell from his expression. Her feelings about the baby were tied closely to the woman she’d dreamed of being when she was eighteen and about to be married.
She remembered standing in a church filled with family and friends and staring down the aisle at the man she thought would love her forever. The man she thought would father all four of the children she dreamed of having.
Now she once again felt like a woman on the cusp of change. But this time she was in control—and finally on the edge of having her dream come true. All she had to do was convince the man sitting across from her to grant this wish.
She reached for her latte, then took a deep swallow. She felt as if she’d regained the ground she’d lost by her tardiness.
“One last question and we’ll wrap this up,” he said, giving her a grin that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Why don’t you want a man in your life?”
Two
Reese watched Sabrina choke on her coffee. Of course, he shouldn’t have asked the question at all. He felt like a killer whale bearing down on a sea lion. It was the type of probing question his editor Jeff had warned him to be careful of asking when interviewing her.
Her aqua-blue eyes reflected her hurt and she blinked several times. He acknowledged that he wouldn’t have asked in such a blunt way if she had been thirty-something, matronly and unappealing. While they’d sat in the sun-warmed sidewalk café, the bond between them had seemed to strengthen. As if their lives had been leading up to this moment and this meeting.
Electric shocks jumped between them each time they touched. And Reese felt off balance, as if a quake rolled through him, waking him from a slumber he hadn’t realized he’d been in. A slumber that had allowed him safety in relationships and safety in living because he’d kept part of himself detached.
He resented that she’d made him “feel,” because he’d done a good job of hiding his emotions, but this woman with her knockout figure, perky nose and aura of sadness touched him. He reassured himself he’d have to be a monster not to sympathize with her, but recognizing didn’t help. His life worked for him because he didn’t allow his emotions to rule him and he’d gotten used to being alone. There was a self-imposed barrier he always kept in place between himself and others.
“I want a family,” she said softly, as if confessing an important secret.
He pictured Sabrina with her own family. A complete family, not the one she was planning to have, but a fictionalized version with a stand-up guy for a husband and two kids. One on the husband’s shoulders, the other in her arms. Unexpectedly, he felt jealous that he wasn’t the stand-up guy with her.
“Isn’t there usually a mother and a father in a family?” he asked. He knew he was being a jerk. He should let her be. Give her space and peace. Don’t question her anymore.
“Yes.”
“Why don’t you want a husband?” he asked bluntly. He couldn’t stop the questions from coming.
“I tried that once and it didn’t work.”
“Why not try again?”
“Why do you care?” she countered.
All right, lady, show me you have a backbone. “I think the readers will want to know.”
She wasn’t the kind of woman he’d expect to choose to be artificially inseminated. She looked like a lady who’d be more comfortable being married first and then bearing a child. Despite her professional clothing, there was something soft and sweet about Sabrina MacFadden.
“Well, your readers will have to be satisfied with the answers I’ve given you.”
“Ms. MacFadden, for the amount of money my magazine is spending we expect to delve deep into the heart of you,” he said.
“The heart?” she said, fiddling nervously with the heart-shaped charm on her necklace.
Her motions drew his gaze to her smooth, slim neck. He wondered if her skin would be as soft there as on her hand. Probably softer, he acknowledged. Would her floral perfume smell be stronger there? What would she taste like? He shifted back on his seat and stretched his legs to relieve the pressure in his crotch.
Damn.
He leaned forward, ignoring his reaction as best he could. “Yes, the heart.”
She sighed, picked up her sunglasses and slid them on. The large lenses hid half her face but didn’t conceal her as he sensed she wished they did.
“I
