âHow about you nap for a few minutes while I get the pizza ready?â Nathan asked the boy.
For once Zach didnât argue. But instead of folding himself into his motherâs embrace, he lifted his arms to Nathan. âWill you carry me?â
Taken aback, Nathan checked with Catherine again.
âIf you donât mind,â Catherine said.
He swallowed past the lump in his throat. âI donât mind in the least.â
Wrapping his arms around Zach, he hoisted the boy onto his hip and stood, then extended a hand to Catherine.
She accepted his hand and rose. âLet me show you to Zachâs room.â
The little boy shifted in his arms, emitting a soft sigh, and nestled closer to his heart. Nathanâs throat constricted as he stroked a comforting hand over his back. In his whole life heâd never held a child. But the boy felt right in his arms. And good.
Irene Hannon, who writes both romance and romantic suspense, is the bestselling author of more than thirty novels. Her books have been honored with a coveted RITA>® Award from Romance Writers of America (the âOscarâ of romantic fiction), a HOLT Medallion and a Reviewerâs Choice Award from RT Book Reviews.
A former corporate communications executive with a Fortune 500 company, Irene now writes full-time. In her spare time she enjoys singing, traveling, long walks, cooking, gardening and spending time with family. She and her husband make their home in Missouri.
For more information about her and her books, Irene invites you to visit her Web site at www.irenehannon.com.
Nathan Clay gazed out over the sparkling blue waters off Nantucket, scanned the pristine white beach and took a long, slow breath.
What a change from the tiny, windowless cell heâd left behind four days agoâhis home for the past ten long years.
The juxtaposition was surreal.
Settling back in the white folding chair, he tugged at his unaccustomed tie, surveyed the seventy-five wedding guests assembled on the lush, garden-rimmed lawn that abutted the beach, and tried not to feel out of place. But it was a losing battle. He doubted anyone else in this high-class group had served time in prison. Especially the Supreme Court justice on the other side of the aisle, who was a longtime friend of the Morgan family.
The family his sister, Marci, would be marrying into in just a few minutes.
Talk about moving up in the world.
She deserved it, though. Marci had worked hard to build a better life. To rise above their tough upbringing.
He wished he could have done as well.
Then again, his childhood had been even rougher than Marciâs or his big brotherâs had been. Thanks to the secret that had darkened his life for more years than he cared to recall.
Bile rose in his throat, and he forced himself to swallow past it, to suppress the ugly memories. Those days were history. They couldnât hurt him unless he let them. And heâd resolved never again to give his past that kind of power.
A string quartet positioned to his right began to play, and he focused on the baroque music, letting its measured cadence calm him. Attired in black dresses, the four musicians blended together perfectly, each handling her instrument with a confidence that spoke of long hours of practice.
But it was the violinist who caught his attention. Eyes closed, she swayed slightly as she drew the bow back and forth over the strings, producing pure, clear notes that quivered with emotion.
Nathan didnât know a lot about music. He hadnât had much opportunity to learn to appreciate the finer things in life. But he understood the creative process. Knew all about losing oneself in oneâs art. That had been his salvation during his decade behind bars. And he sensed this woman felt the same way.
He studied her, appreciating the sweep of her long lashes as they feathered into a graceful arc beneath her eyes. Although her light brown hair was secured at her nape with a barrette, the no-nonsense style was softened by wispy bangs that brushed her smooth brow. The early afternoon sun highlighted her classic bone structure and warmed her flawless complexion, while the whisper of a smile touched her soft, beguiling lips.
Nathanâs gaze lingered on their supple fullnessâ¦and all at once he found it difficult to breathe.
Reaching up, he ran a finger around his suddenly too-tight collar and forced himself to turn away. Only to discover his new landlady, Edith Shaw, observing him with a smile of her own from two rows back. He had no idea how to interpret the gleam in her eyeâ¦nor the wink she directed his way.
And he didnât have a chance to figure it out, because all at once the music changed and an expectant hush fell over the guests.