LITMIR.BIZ

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working with Rand again … Too risky given that tiny flicker of joy she’d experienced earlier. The man had already broken her heart once. She’d have to be a fool to return for a second helping of that kind of agony. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m not interested.”

      “Fifteen grand a month,” he offered without hesitation.

      Tara caught her breath at the obscene amount and her knees nearly buckled. Carol Anthony’s job as a hairstylist hadn’t provided health or life insurance, and Tara had inherited her mother’s debts along with her home and possessions. With that kind of money she could pay off the exorbitant medical bills her mother had left behind and stop the increasingly threatening collection notices.

      She was more than a little tempted. But why, oh, why did it have to be Rand Kincaid making this offer? “It’s not about the money, Rand.”

      He punched his fists to his hips, shoving his suit coat away from the flat plane of his stomach—a stomach she’d once been free to touch and taste. “Look, we both know you don’t give a damn about me. But do it for Nadia and Mitch. They don’t deserve to have the rug ripped out from under them. Name your price, Tara.”

      Tara wavered. Common sense said refuse. But a minuscule, insistent part of her reminded her how good she and Rand had been together. When she’d been with him she’d felt special and important, as if happily-ever-after might actually be possible.

      She’d never had time to come to terms with his abrupt ending of their relationship. Before she could sort out her chaotic emotions her mother’s persistent cough had been diagnosed as stage-three lung cancer. From that moment through the next few years Tara’s life had careened out of control on a roller coaster of hope and despair. Every waking thought had centered on her mother’s survival. There had been too many difficult decisions to make and so many fears to face. There hadn’t been time to think about her own wants and needs, her broken heart, disappointed dreams or the man who hadn’t wanted her.

      And then after battling four long, torturous years, her mother had died. Grief and guilt had consumed Tara. Since the funeral she’d been too numb to do anything but go through the motions of daily living. Work. Home. Paying bills.

      She’d clung to the status quo like a sailor hung on to a capsized boat, afraid to let go, afraid another crisis would drag her under. Inertia wasn’t something she enjoyed, but even one more change seemed like one more than she could handle. That was the only reason Tara could think of to explain why she’d stayed at a job she hated and why she couldn’t face boxing up and donating her mother’s things or even moving the bedroom furniture her mother had used out of the dining room. She couldn’t even open the dining room door.

      She chewed the inside of her bottom lip and studied the man in front of her. Was Rand’s reappearance in her life a wake-up call? An opportunity to get her life back on track? Hugging herself she stared at the picture of her mother on the mantel.

      Live your life without regrets, Tara. Promise me …. Her mother’s final words echoed in her head.

      Tara had learned two very important lessons as she watched her mother bravely fight and eventually succumb to the disease that had ravaged her body. One was that life shouldn’t be filled with regrets for the things you hadn’t done. The second was that some things are worth fighting for.

      Tara had failed on both accounts.

      She hadn’t been courageous or unselfish enough to buy her mother more time and maybe even save her life—a fact that would haunt her for eternity.

      Second, she’d let Rand walk away. She hadn’t fought for him—for them. She’d allowed his fear of commitment and his unwillingness to listen to her reasons for turning to his father destroy any chance they might have had for a future together.

      Rand watched her silently now with no trace of emotion on his hard-set face, but she was absolutely certain he had felt something for her back then even though he’d denied any emotions deeper than lust. If he hadn’t cared, he wouldn’t have treated her so well, and she didn’t think she’d imagined the quickly masked flash of pain and shock in his eyes that last morning. If his feelings for her hadn’t gone deeper than lust, he wouldn’t have been hurt by what had appeared to be a betrayal on her part.

      Unable to concentrate with his intense stare nailing her in place and compelling her to accept, she turned away. She’d never expected to see Rand Kincaid again, and she could have survived without him in her life. But here he stood in her home. It seemed as if fate were offering her a second chance to make this right—to make them right.

      Did she dare try?

      It would be a huge gamble. She might fail and get her heart shattered all over again, but at least she’d have the satisfaction of knowing she’d given it her best effort.

      But how? How could she reach a commitment-phobic man who’d walked away once already? How could she prove to him that good relationships could and did happen?

      She peeked at his reflection in the mirror that hung behind the sofa and caught his gaze raking her body. Heat flared in his eyes and kicked her pulse into a faster beat. And then he realized he was under scrutiny and masked his desire. He held her gaze dispassionately, but the raw hunger she’d glimpsed gave her the answer she needed.

      She’d start with the one thing that had always been good between them—the sex—and build from there. And this time she wouldn’t blurt out her feelings prematurely and scare him away.

      Her skin flushed and her heart pounded at the possibility of sleeping with Rand again. She would, ironically, be offering him almost the same deal his father had offered her. Move in, be her partner in every way, and she would help him with his problem.

      Would Rand have the courage to accept where Tara had failed?

      Blinking to break the connection, she wiped her damp hands on her dress, exhaled slowly—shakily—and faced him. “I’ll come back to Kincaid on two conditions.”

      “Name them.”

      “One, I want a glowing recommendation from you in writing. In advance.” If this gamble didn’t work out, she didn’t want to be forced into another low-paying, dead-end job. She had bills to pay and an obligation to keep this house.

      “If I give you the letter now, what’s to keep you from walking before the year’s up?”

      “My word.”

      He hesitated, his square jaw shifting. “Done. What else?”

      Chaos clamored inside her. She licked her dry lips and smoothed her damp hands on her hips again. “You. I want you, Rand. In my life. In my home. In my bed. Exclusively. For that year.”

      Rand recoiled as if she’d slapped him. “That offer is not on the table.”

      She fought to conceal her pain.

       Did you expect him to be thrilled?

      Maybe not thrilled, but something less than appalled would have been nice.

      But without their intense physical chemistry on her side, the odds of succeeding in this quest were next to nil. She might as well give up now and save herself the false hopes and heartache. Mentally and physically, she backed away. “Then I can’t help you.”

      His eyes narrowed suspiciously and the gold flecks in his irises glittered dangerously amidst the green. “What is this? Another attempt to get a ring out of me? I’ve told you before, I don’t do commitment.”

      No, and he never would if she couldn’t get past the boundaries he guarded so carefully. Last time he’d never spent an entire night in her bed or even met her mother. If she wanted her plan to succeed, she had to find a way to slip past his defenses and make him a part of her life. But she’d have to be careful. Rand would bolt if he thought she entertained even the faintest hope for wedding bells in their future.

      She held his gaze and forced a lackadaisical

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