she thought about Sullivan. He was thirty-seven. She knew because she’d checked his records, and judging by the hard glint in his knowing eyes, he was cynical and not getting any younger. Gray wisps painted the tips of the honey strands of his hair, and crow’s-feet were visible at the corners of his eyes, giving his face a rugged, weathered look. He was sexy, too—sexy as sin.
But she wondered if she looked as cynical as he. Her eyes drifted to the letter again. There was a seemingly nice man out there who liked how her personality sounded in the letters she’d written to him. Was she ready to meet him?
At the thought, abrupt, unexpected pain seared through her. For an instant, all the trauma of her past came racing back, and she felt alone, betrayed and broken. So alone, she thought. As if the whole world had been hollowed out and she’d been left in the emptiness. Every time she started to hope someone might love her, she was filled with pain—because with the hope of that came the fear of loss. It was so hard to admit how much she needed love….
She hadn’t mentioned her past to her correspondent, of course. She never would. But maybe she could open up to him just a little. If she didn’t start making an effort, she was going to wind up like Sullivan Steele, unmarried and hardened by a cop’s life. Guilt niggled at her again. Was her investigation going to shatter his trust in his parents? The way her own trust had been shattered?
She stared down at the letter again. If she agreed to meet her mystery man, at least she knew she’d be physically safe. She was well-trained in tai kwon doe, not to mention good old-fashioned street fighting. She also carried a gun.
Picking up a pen, she began to write.
Dear Mr. X,
I hope you don’t mind the name, but I never know what to call you. Maybe you’ll share your real name with me soon when we meet? Yes, I’ve given it some thought and think we should.
Pausing, Judith mulled over a date and place.
She wanted her next encounter with Sullivan Steele out of the way first, and because she was consumed with searching for his father, she’d be preoccupied the following week.
If I don’t hear from you, I’ll meet you on the Saturday after this coming one. At five-thirty in the evening, I’ll be in Central Park, on the bridge in front of Bethesda Fountain, overlooking the boathouse. I’m tall, with dark hair, and I’ll be wearing a red silk scarf, so you’ll know who I am.
And then, her heart pounding, Judith quickly sealed and stamped the letter before she could change her mind. It was time to move on from her past. She’d learned how to survive. How to make a good living. She was at the top of her profession.
Now she had to acknowledge that love was out there in the world, just waiting for her. The magical experience of finding a message in a bottle had started to convince her of that. What an unlikely thing to have happen!
Judith could only hope she’d be able to meet her mystery man with an open heart.
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