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windows that invited the outside in. The gatehouse had provided Callie a cozy safe haven for almost two months now. She hated the idea of leaving but knew she had to pick up the threads of her life again.

      The problem was, she had no desire to return to Boston or to her former career. Despite all the courses and training and advice to the contrary, she’d let too much of the heartache experienced by her young, helpless and too often abused clients get to her. Even before the emails, she’d decided to quit. Now all she had to do was figure out what to do with the rest of her life.

      She had no idea how much Joe might play in that. If at all. The thought made her uncharacteristically nervous. To cover it, she responded to his comment with a lively patter.

      “The Ellises had the whole gatehouse gutted and redone for Tommy’s former nanny, Mrs. Wells. The one who broke her ankle in Venice. I don’t think you met her.”

      “No, I didn’t.”

      “Dawn’s totally conflicted over that. She’d never wish anyone harm, but she wouldn’t have met Brian and Tommy otherwise.”

      “And I wouldn’t have met you.”

      Ohh-kay, Callie thought as he curled a knuckle under her chin. So much for small talk.

      He tipped her face to his. “As I was saying before I got dragooned into boomerang duty, it wasn’t just those damned emails keeping me awake these past weeks.”

      His voice got lower and huskier with each word. Combined with the brush of his thumb along her jaw, he managed to get every one of her nerves bucking.

      “You’re so beautiful.”

      The compliment touched a secret place deep inside her. She didn’t lack confidence in herself or her abilities, but she’d spent a lifetime in Kate’s and Dawn’s more flamboyant shadows.

      “When did you have your last eye exam?”

      “I’m not talking the externals. I’m talking about what’s inside. The quiet self-assurance. The serenity.”

      The happy glow faded a bit.

      “I haven’t felt all that self-assured or serene in the past few months.”

      “You hid it well, even from your best friends.”

      “There was so much happening in their lives. I didn’t want to add to it.”

      “So you drew on your own inner strength, Callie. I admire that.” His thumb made another pass. “You’re the kind of woman I’ve been looking for. The kind I could come home to.”

      She didn’t know why that doused the glow completely, but it did. She pulled back and searched his face. The scar didn’t so much as enter into her thought process as she tried to interpret his expression.

      It hit her a second later. Affection. That’s what she was seeing. Admiration tinged with warm, genuine affection. Humiliatingly similar to what she saw on Dawn’s and Brian’s faces when they played with their son’s pup. The fact that Joe’s was spiced with an unmistakable dollop of desire didn’t soothe the swift, lancing hurt. Concealing her dismay, she eased out of his arms.

      “Sorry, but I’m not sure I understand. What, exactly, do you mean by ‘come home to’?”

      “Well...” He paused, obviously searching for the right words and opted for a demonstration instead. “How about I just show you?”

      He reached for her again and drew her closer. When his head lowered, Callie hesitated for just a moment before meeting him halfway. Her lips molded his. Her palms found his shoulders, circled his neck. It wasn’t just affection, she told herself. She could taste his hunger, sense it in the arms that tightened around her waist.

      When he widened his stance and positioned her between his thighs, she couldn’t quite stifle a groan. She could feel him against her belly. A minor distraction at first. Then a hard, rampant bulge that shot heat from her midsection to every other part of her. She wanted this man. Ached for him. Would take him any way she could have him.

      And when he scooped her into arms, she didn’t hold back before responding to his gruff, “Which way to the bedroom?”

      * * *

      He undressed her with a skill that might have given Callie pause if she hadn’t been so intent on matching him button for button, tug for tug. Her heart melted when he took time to sheathe himself. If she hadn’t already been a little in love with him, his determination to protect her even in this most intimate act would’ve done the trick. That, and the fact that he drove her to sensual heights she’d never experienced before.

      Every stroke, every kiss, every scrape of his late-afternoon bristles on her breasts and belly and thighs pushed her higher. She was panting when he parted her legs. Almost mindless with need when he entered her. Just enough sanity remained for her to take him along on the wild ride.

      Her belly tight, she locked her calves around his. Her muscles contracted. Every muscle! She thrust her hips against his again, once more, and gave herself up to the roaring tide of sensation.

      When they untangled, she came within a hair of succumbing to his offer of tomorrow and forever. Most likely would have, if he hadn’t tucked her against him and stroked her hair. Slowly. Lazily. Again, with the same absent affection Dawn or Brian might stroke their son’s puppy.

      She didn’t draw away. Didn’t vocalize the return of her insidious doubts. Instead, she buried them deep as she and Joe took turns in the shower. He’d brought his carryall with him from the airport and changed into jeans and a misty-blue cashmere sweater that softened the steel gray of his eyes.

      In deference to both the season and the occasion, Callie dressed up a bit in ballet flats, black tights with just a touch of silvery sparkle and a Christmassy green wool tunic. Twisting her hair up, she caught it with a jeweled butterfly clip she’d picked up on a foray to one of the DC area’s many malls.

      She was wearing her usual smile when she and Joe joined Dawn and Kate and their respective spouses to celebrate the end of her harassment.

      * * *

      Her calm smile stayed in place even when Kate and Dawn dragged her into the kitchen, using the excuse of making coffee for a tête-à-tête. Kate barely waited for the door to swish shut before she pounced.

      “Details! The fat, pregnant sow wants details!”

      Neither Dawn nor Callie bothered to point out that her tiny pooch barely even qualified as a baby bump.

      “Rumor has it you and Joe got all close and cuddly this afternoon,” Kate said. “Then you disappeared for several hours.”

      “Rumor being our gossipy friend here?”

      “Hey!” Dawn protested. “Since when is any area of our lives off-limits? Seems like I can recall you two demanding every intimate detail when I got engaged the first time.”

      “And the second time,” Kate admitted.

      “And the third,” Callie conceded.

      “There! See? Turnabout’s fair play. So how was it?”

      “Pretty amazing, actually.”

      “You can do better than that, girl. On a scale of one to ten?”

      “Twelve and a half.”

      “Way to go, Joe!”

      Kate raised both palms and got slaps from the other women. Callie’s was just a fraction slower than Dawn’s, but the other two women picked up on that millisecond instantly.

      “What?” Kate asked. “Twelve and a half didn’t ring your bells?”

      “They rang. Several times.”

      “But?”

      She’d shared too many ups and downs with these women to hide her silly, niggling doubt from them.

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