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  But she really liked the Stewarts, Jules and her little family made up of big-time lawyer Ned, whose firm handled the legal affairs of the rich and fabulous, and their adorable toddler daughter, Amy, and of course the birthday boy himself, Domenic.

  Fascinated by the Wild Wild West, the charming and personable birthday boy had caught Shannon’s heart the first time they’d met. As she and Jules had gotten closer and worked together more and more, little man Dom was around quite a bit. He was hysterically funny and arguably the most curious child on the planet with a head’s-first, take-the-ball-and-run-with-it energy that seemed to nudge Shannon’s deepest emotions and ring a familiar bell. She teasingly called him a “man on a mission” because once he got a thought or idea in his busy, creative little boy’s mind, he was off and running, chasing down the details.

  He liked her, too, a lot, and the two of them could spend hours discussing dragon lore or why horses sleep standing up. The little boy tugged at her heart in ways that fired up a yearning deeply hidden inside her. Maybe it was his all-too-cute dimples or the way he seemed to fill whatever space he was in that evoked a response from Shannon. Like all young school-agers, he had a way of looking at life that was straightforward and unabashed, something she found charming.

  When Ned had insisted that Shannon give life to every conceivable cowboy fantasy a six-year-old boy’s imagination could dream up, her quiet delight at being given the opportunity to bring some lighthearted fun to Dom and his family was deeply satisfying. She could see the joy radiating from the proud parents, their straightforward love and pleasure in their first born swirling around them. They made Shannon smile.

  Here today, the Stewart property was completely bedecked in Western-themed props and scenery that made visitors feel like they were strolling through an authentic Wild West town complete with wagons, horses, and a scattering of actors providing charming improv flair. That they lived in Los Angeles meant she had at her disposal pretty much anything a Hollywood studio could get its hands on, so the possibilities were truly endless.

  They had even set up a chuck wagon, which, judging by the delicious aroma of searing meat permeating the air, was busy cooking up mouth-watering gourmet burgers and cowboy steaks for the assembled guests. Every thought and care had gone into not only bringing the coolest kid party imaginable to the occasion but a festive and fun-filled adult experience as well for the parents, friends, and family who had gathered to wish Domenic Stewart a very happy sixth birthday.

  Right now though, she was stressing because of the M.I.A. cowboy bandits and was hoping against hope that Rory had this under control. So focused was she on tapping out a text that she was in no way paying attention to her surroundings as she hurried breathlessly along a path covered with straw and bordered by hay bales, wagon wheels, and enough top-drawer Hollywood scenery that it looked like a movie set.

  Creatively decked out in head-to-toe cowgirl costume with a below-the-knee denim skirt and flirty ruffled petticoat, she’d added a very cool wide, double-buckled leather belt to the outfit, making the overall effect perhaps a bit sexier than she’d ever intended due mostly she knew to her curvaceous figure. Shannon was at this moment glad that her long, full-bodied tresses were caught snugly under her cowgirl hat so she wouldn’t have to keep pushing them away from her face as she lowered her head to concentrate on the screen of her phone.

  Between one second and the next, she was all but galloping along, her favorite short suede boots snapping a beat on the crunchy straw underfoot, when she seemed to hurl full force into a solid wall, causing her hat to fly off and a riot of blonde tresses to tumble around her face, blocking the wall from view. She started to stumble backwards into an awkward free fall when all of a sudden two large, strong hands caught her by the upper arms just before she went down.

  “Whoa there, little lady, you pack a powerful punch.” An amused male voice chuckled in a deeply familiar, hypnotic drawl that spread through her senses like warm butterscotch, flowing all around her, covering her being and penetrating her senses in a rush of awareness that stole her breath. She’d know that voice anywhere. Even in her nightmares.

  Oh no, no, no, no, no, her brain screamed while her head snapped up. She felt her eyes widen and pop from her head at what she saw.

  Still held firmly in large hands, which were sending electric shocks through her careening emotions, Shannon gazed in stunned horror at the face of the man who had changed the trajectory of her life. The man who had pretended to love her only to later assert that he’d just been having a bit of fun while availing himself of her naïve favors. Fool her, for he had been given everything she had only to casually walk away without a backward glance while Shannon had in the end lost far more than just her heart to this villainous man.

  To say she was struck dumb was an understatement. Thunderstruck maybe. More like a grenade going off in her brain. Dammit. Nick Temple in the flesh. No, no, not Nick Temple, the grad student who she’d fallen hopelessly in love with, her memory screamed, but Nicholas Temple Barrett, billionaire dilettante with a heart of stone. As for the flesh, well, Shannon was all too aware of the suddenly superheated atmosphere surrounding them.

  Time stood still. After several long seconds of stunned silence, a shocked, raw voice husked, “Oh my god…Shannon?” as he, too, seemed to be struggling in the moment. “Can it be you?” he ground out. Clearly bewildered and dazed, his reaction seemed to hang frozen in space for several excruciating moments, long enough for Shannon to absorb even more of the warm caramel consequence to his presence.

  Dear heaven, but she’d loved this man so. Loved the sharp, witty, caring grad student she’d known. Loved his long and slightly shaggy dirty-blond hair when it brushed freely against his collar. Loved the striking hazel eyes flecked with vibrant gold that gave him a sexy leonine appearance. Adored the cute-as-hell dimples peeking out of several days’ growth of scraggly beard every time he broke out the huge smile that so often had lit up his face. She considered that young man to be beautiful and handsome in an innocently shining knight way.

  The face she looked into today, while shocked and momentarily silenced, was older, harsher, and completely lacking in the kind of joy that would bring out those dimples. Gone was the long hair and rakish manner.

  In its place was a serious-looking grown-up with immaculately cut hair, his chiseled features lending an even greater air of barely contained power to his formidable physical presence, which was big, maybe a little intimidating, and if she wished to admit it, sexy as hell.

  To Shannon’s horror, instead of reacting like a viper had been tossed in her presence, she was instead suddenly fighting an unbidden and completely traitorous physical response. Indeed, her heart had all but leapt in her chest at finding herself held in the gaze of the hazel orbs that had haunted her dreams these last eight years. While Shannon knew she should run for the hills, she seemed instead to be melting in relief, as if she’d just been waiting all these years for him to come back and take away her unhappiness, so lonely had she been without him.

  What? What in the hell was she thinking? She wasn’t lonely—she was safe. Safe from having to engage her heart and end up broken and bruised. Turning frozen and brittle when the enormity of how he’d deceived and used her all those years ago came flooding back, Shannon sharply jerked herself ramrod straight in a physical rebuff just a heartbeat before hastily yanking her arms from his shocked, loosened grasp in wild arcs as she tried to pull away from him.

  Gaining her release, she cried, “No!” as she turned to escape, aware in her heart of hearts that she was fleeing her wild desire for him more than the man himself.

  In one frantic maneuver, Shannon tried to reign in her flailing arms in the same second that she turned to run away. Unfortunately, her hasty attempt at retreat was immediately halted by the heel of one boot getting caught in some scenery. Before she knew what was happening, she fell sideways in a clumsy wobble and went down hard with a thud before putting out her hands to break
the fall and lurching forward when her knees hit the ground.

  To make matters worse, as her body pitched frontward, she smacked her head on the edge of an inconveniently placed wagon wheel. Crying out in distress, she found herself stunned, sprawled on the ground, skirt and petticoat revealing way more leg than this situation called for, ankle twisted, knees bruised, hands scraped, and a nasty bump growing at her hairline. Fabulous.

  Trying to right herself from the uncomfortable and clumsy sprawl, Shannon put a hand down on the ground for leverage and instantly regretted that decision. She cried out in a painful gasp a split second before Nick gently grabbed both wrists and turned over her hands, palms up, so he could assess her injuries.

  Shannon was overcome with pain and distress and could feel a welling of tears making their way to her eyes, something she seriously did not want at this moment. Breaking out with some waterworks was simply not an option, no matter how hurt she was. Blinking furiously to keep the problem at bay, she stared in helpless fascination where Nick’s large, masculine hands so gently held her own much smaller and slightly trembling ones.

  * * *

  If his brain hadn’t been so damn fuzzy, Nick was sure he would have caught her before she hit the ground or at least reacted quickly enough to help break the fall. Instead he stood there numb and frozen, watching in a sort of slow motion haze.

  As it was, his fabled cool had deserted him the moment he understood that his most fervent desire, his one true wish, was right there in his hands. For real. Not a dream. Not a hallucination or fantasy, but the lovely Shannon, his Shannon, right here, close enough to pick up on her haunting scent. She always smelled of almonds with a hint of something else, deeply feminine and elusive, which he tucked away in the most secret corner of his mind lest he lose himself in wanting something he would never have again. Only this was real, and those hidden thoughts were colliding in rapid-fire fashion as the situation unfolded before him.

  Nick recovered quickly though and was at her side before she’d taken more than a breath or two. Realizing that she was definitely hurt gave his analytical mind something to focus on besides the wild rush of adrenaline overlade with yearning and a painfully deep desire that was washing over him and through him in wave after wave.

  A fierce and focused businessman, he was a serious force to be reckoned with. It wasn’t all that unusual for competitors and those whose companies he engaged with to have a healthy fear of him. What the hell, sometimes even he was scared of himself, but right at this moment, after eight long years of self-imposed emotional isolation, he was suddenly bereft of his usual steely cool. Having something purposeful to do meant he could pretend to be that other guy, while inside he was quietly reeling and struggling not to lose control.

  Beneath a frown of concern Nick carefully inspected her palms where evidence of scraping and abrasion were clear. He had to physically restrain himself from bringing both injured palms to his mouth so he could kiss her wounds and make it better. Those delightfully delicate hands with long, beautifully shaped fingers, so feminine and, to his mind, ladylike, brought a thousand memories flooding into his mind.

  Memories of those divine hands learning the planes and angles of his body, seeking out sensitive spots and stroking his skin in exciting wonder as she explored him in that erotically sensual way that lovers have blossomed in his mind. Her touch had been at times reverent and at others naughty or teasing. He’d bloomed under her stroking exploration, finding in her inexperienced caresses a deep sense of sharing and a connection more satisfying than any he’d ever known before or since.

  Forcing his attention back to the present, Nick heard himself admonish maybe a bit more sternly than intended, “Be still, Shannon, and stop wiggling while I see if you’re injured elsewhere. These hands are pretty scraped up and will need to be cleaned thoroughly and bandaged.” This last was said as he gently released those trembling hands into her lap while his own continued a cursory journey down her legs as his assessment resumed.

  * * *

  Did he just accuse her of wiggling? She didn’t wiggle. Certainly not! Okay, maybe just a little, but not so much as he’d know. “I do not wiggle,” she announced somewhat defensively as she fixed him with a dismissive glare, or what she hoped would seem dismissive.

  No way was he going to get the satisfaction of knowing he was unnerving her. She’d gladly take that knowledge to the grave, although deep inside she suspected that it wouldn’t take much for her to throw herself into his arms so he could make it all better. Apparently, once a fool, always a fool, she mused. Had nothing been learned? she groaned in silent desperation.

  Right at that moment his hands, which had been leaving a trail of warmth along her legs, connected with the injured ankle, wrenching a deep cry of complete distress from her. Pain shot up her leg right into her brain, causing Shannon to immediately lose all efforts to remain in control as the tears she’d been fighting erupted in earnest.

  “Oh no!” she cried in anguish as twin rivulets of tears began streaming down her face. “That hurts.” She hiccupped in pained distress. It was all suddenly just too much.

  * * *

  At the first sign of those tears and her obvious distress, Nick swallowed hard to keep his own emotions in check. She was really hurt. As he cradled her injured foot in one hand, his eyes searched her face while his free hand swept her long tresses back over her shoulder so he could see her more directly.

  That action revealed a bruise gathering strength at her hairline, a nasty-looking bump that was turning an angry reddish purple right before his eyes.

  A pithy swear rolled off his tongue in frustration as his brain took in the bigger picture. Scraped palms, a twisted and perhaps broken ankle, and now a contusion on her head. What else, what else? his mind chanted as he segued instantly into emergency mode.

  It was Shannon who uncovered the next injury when she winced out another distressed “Ow!” as she tried to help with gathering her wildly disarrayed hair. Touching a small tear in her cowgirl shirt right at her shoulder, she pulled her fingers back, and as she did, Nick detected a smudge of blood and knew she’d also somehow gotten a gash as she’d scraped along the old wagon wheel on her way to being sprawled on the ground.

  Okay, that was it, thought Nick. This was way more serious than first thought, and he needed to take fast action. After all, that’s what he did. Action Man. The guy everyone else went to when all hell broke loose. Only right now the hell breaking loose was happening inside him, and he seriously doubted his action-man status at this second. Not when Shannon was in pain and hurt.

  “You’re hurt, Shannon. Let me get a read on where the problems are so I can get you some help. Is it your shoulder where you found blood?” he asked as she shook her head in assent and seemed to finally get control of the river of tears that had overtaken her

  “Yes,” she whispered quietly, “there’s a tear in my shirt you should check.” He did so in short order, making note of the small bleeding gash, which from his visual inspection did not seem as deep or worrisome as to add much more anxiety to the situation. It was the growing bump on her forehead and the painful ankle that needed immediate attention.

  Oh so gently, continuing to cradle her injured foot, Nick quickly located a phone from his pants and pressed a few buttons before sliding the latest in fancy technology back into his pocket.

  “Let’s remove this boot, Shannon. Your ankle is likely swelling, and if we don’t take it off now, it will have to be cut off to get at the injury.”

  She mewled in alarm when his hands began the task of peeling off the soft suede ankle boots she’d worn. “Stop! Nick, please, I can’t…” she cried out, but he just ground his teeth and continued on, focusing on getting the footwear off with economy and a minimum of movement. Thankfully the suede boot came off quickly, because Nick seriously doubted his composure would stay fast if he hurt her any more.

  * * *

  “Trust me, little one,” he said, using one of the a
ffectionate terms for her he had used all those years ago as she sagged against him in relief. Hearing his calming voice, Shannon reached out and wrapped her fingers around his wrist in a reflexive move, only to quickly snatch back the unbidden gesture before she took it any further.

  Nick’s eyes bored straight into her soul, and she knew he could see her pain as he husked quietly and with deliberation, “Please trust me, Shannon.” It was a measure of the surreal situation they found themselves in that he used the word please, because the man she had known never said please to anyone for anything.

  She suddenly realized that he seemed vulnerable somehow. She knew him so well was her next thought as she considered that the serious businessman before her was just as rattled by what was happening as she was. Still, she couldn’t forget that he’d left a tsunami of pain, regret, and loss in the wake of his leaving her quite literally in the African dust. Could she trust him? What was he really asking? Did he mean could she trust him not to injure her further right this second or could she trust him again in a broader sense?

  Shannon didn’t have a clue about the latter. She’d had to shut it all out or she’d have gone mad. She did knew, however, deep in her heart of hearts, that she could in fact trust him in this emergency, so she let herself ease off a bit of the rigid tension that had overtaken her physically the moment his hands had started touching her all over.

  * * *

  Sensing her consent, as slight as it was, Nick energized his actions so he could continue on assessing her condition.

  Her ankle was swelling pretty fast, and while it didn’t look broken, he knew a full medical exam and an X-ray were called for. As he considered the puffy ankle resting on his kneeling thigh, Nick was momentarily swept away by the incredibly soft feel of her skin. It was then that he noticed the tiny silver chain she wore around her ankle. Looking closer, he noticed a small oval with the word “Goddess” engraved in a romantic flourish. Um, yeah, he was in trouble.