“I can’t believe Matthew Strong is pulling out of the race.”

“Shhh!” Raven glared at her sister and turned back to the television.

“There you have it, folks. In the political upset of the year, a candidate that polls favored by a three-to-one margin has withdrawn his name from the race for the senate with only six weeks left until the primary. Matthew Strong’s decision is final, based on personal reasons, which he apparently has no intention of revealing.”

With a sigh, Raven switched off the set. Tense silence reigned in the room and she knew her family was struggling not to ask the question. Finally, she could take the tension no more and she shot to her feet. “Okay, yes. It’s Matthew.”

“Your Matthew?” Her father looked at her over half-glasses.

“Yes.” She rubbed her throbbing temple with the balls of her fingers in an attempt to ease the pressure. My Matthew. Regret for what might have been all those years ago shot through her. She hadn’t allowed herself second guesses. No regretting her decision. So why was her heart suddenly about to pound out of her chest?

TRACEY V. BATEMAN

lives in Missouri with her husband and their four children. She writes full-time and is active in various roles in her home church. She has won several awards for her writing, and credits God’s grace and a limited number of entries for each win. To relax, she enjoys long talks with her husband, reading, music and hanging out with her kids, who can finally enjoy movies she likes. Tracey loves to encourage everyone to dream big. She believes she is living proof that, with God, nothing is impossible.

Betrayal of Trust
Tracey V. Bateman

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Behold, what manner of love the Father has bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God.

—1 John 3:1

Lovingly dedicated to the memory of my dad,

Rodney Devine Sr., who passed away several

years ago. He always made me feel safe.

Also to the memory of my father-in-law,

George Bateman. I had no doubt that he loved me.

There is no one like this special man, except

perhaps his wonderful son, my husband.

And to my Abba. Father to the fatherless.

God in Heaven. Thank You for adopting

me into Your family.

Dear Reader,

Thank you for joining me for the third and final book in The Mahoney Sisters series. I never fail to marvel at the love of adoptive parents for their children. Chosen children. Children, who were born to one family, but planted firmly in another. Legally, they are given the same right to the surname and anything their parents have just as though they shared a bloodline.

This is exactly what Jesus does for us. His blood is like an adoption certificate, legally binding us into the family God. We were not God’s original family, but He chose us to become His children. What an awesome gift. We are heirs of salvation. Joint heirs with Jesus.

This is what Raven had to come to understand. That she was part of the Mahoney family just as surely as if she’d been born into Mac Mahoney’s bloodline. He took her as his daughter, raised her as his own, loved her as his own and gave her his name. She was his daughter. All she had to do was come to an understanding of how much Mac loved her. How often do we doubt that God really loves us, that He really wants good things for us? I pray that as you read this book, the “father” love of God spoke to your heart in a special way.

God bless you as you live, move and have your being in Him.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Epilogue

Prologue

Matthew Strong pulled his car into the wooded rest area of the forest reserve and watched a man approach wearing army surplus and tennis shoes. Even from ten feet away, Matthew noticed the grime on his hands. His stringy, greasy hair was held in place by a filthy bandana folded to look like an Indian headband. He sauntered, his shoulders moving with a cocky assurance that grated on Matthew’s nerves.

Fighting to contain his disgust, Matthew pressed the automatic unlock and the man slid onto the tan leather seat, his stench powerful enough to bring down a bear.

“This is the one and only time I’m going to do this,” Matthew said without a greeting. “So if you’re planning any kind of ongoing blackmail, you can forget it now.”

Ray Marx gave him a two-fingered salute as he tugged on the handle and slammed the door, closing them inside. His lips curled in a smug sneer that left Matthew fighting for control. “Really nice of you to meet me. Got a cigarette?”

Without bothering to respond to the ridiculous question, Matthew pulled an envelope from the pocket on the driver’s side door.

Silently, and for effect, he fingered the bulging manila envelope. Ray’s eyes followed every trail of his thumb in anticipation. His foot tapped in a nervous beat to no discernible rhythm. Anticipation of what? Drugs? More than likely. But Matthew couldn’t worry about that right now. Not when his child’s safety was at stake.

“I see eight years in prison didn’t do you much good. How long did it take to find a fix? An hour?”

“What are you, my parole officer?” Ray reached for the envelope, but Matthew snatched it back.

“We’re going to get a few things settled first.”

“I said all I got to say to you on the phone. Give me the money or I go to the papers. They might be interested in hearing about the daughter you stole from me.”

Anger burned in Matthew. He slid his hand inside his Armani jacket and produced a document. “Are you forgetting this?”

Ray’s eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

“You signed away your rights to her. Remember? The adoption is legal. No court in the country would revoke that. It’s all a matter of public record. I have nothing to hide.”

Matthew watched the drug dealer carefully. There was no emotion in his eyes other than greed and perhaps a trace of anger to see the truth in black and white.

He shrugged. “I was forced into signing.”

“We both know that’s a lie.”

“A lie? I’m truly hurt. And here I’ve been dreaming of the day I get out of prison so I can be a real daddy to my little daughter. Think of all the things I could teach her.”

Matthew clenched his fists to keep from dragging the clown out of his car and pummeling him to within an inch of his life. But he knew that would do no one any good. Least of all Jamie, his eight-year-old daughter. “But that’s what this little envelope is all about, isn’t it? Your promise to go away and pretend you’ve never heard of my sister, let alone fathered her child.”

“And I thought it was just about a friend helping a friend.”

“Sure you did.”

“Well, if you’re not going to play nice, give me my money and I’ll leave you alone.”

“That’s what I intend to ensure before I hand over a dime.” Matthew narrowed his gaze and stared until Ray squirmed under the intensity. “Do not go near my sister. Is that clear?”

“Yeah, yeah. I got all I needed out of that one, anyway. Give me the cash and let me go.”

Matthew handed over the package.

With his filthy, grease-embedded hands, Ray deliberately opened the envelope and riffled through the cash. Pretending to count. Slow, sly, like the coyote he was. A predator. The dregs of society. Not worth the dirt under Casey’s dainty feet.

Dear, God. Why couldn’t I have protected her from having a relationship with a man like this?

Ray finished counting and looked up. “Just one more time to double-check.” And he started the process again.

Matthew balled his fists. In two seconds he was going to…

Dan Ackerman, Matthew’s semi-retired attorney, shifted forward from the back seat. He slapped down hard on the leather headrest above Ray’s head. The seat shook.

Ray jumped, his Adam’s apple moving up and down in his throat, his eyes shifting in an obvious attempt to suppress a rush of fear.

Grim satisfaction flowed through Matthew.

Dan fixed Ray with a glare that allowed for no more stalling. “You know it’s all there. Get out of here and stay out of Matthew’s sight, if you know what’s good for you.”

Obviously trying to maintain his dignity, Ray slid the money envelope into his dirty army jacket and made smug eye contact with Matthew. “Thanks for the new start. I’ll be seeing you.”

Matthew sprang with the agility of a mountain lion. He grabbed Ray by the scruff of his neck and slammed him against the window.

“If you come near my sister again, I’ll make you wish you’d never heard the name Strong. Do you understand me?”

He felt Dan’s hands on his shoulders. “Matt, don’t give him any ammunition.”

Slowly, Matthew allowed reason to return. The blind rage lifted and he unclenched his fists, releasing handfuls of wrinkled jacket.

“Unlock the safety so he can get out,” Dan said.

Matthew flipped the switch. The coyote slunk against the door, then got brave as the handle gave way beneath his hand.

“Give my girl a hug for me.” He smirked. “Tell her Daddy loves her.”

Fury exploded in Matthew and he went for Ray again, but the coward anticipated the move and jumped out just before Matthew could grab hold. He fled into the woods without looking back.

Dan grabbed Matthew before he could go after the man who had ruined his sister’s life nine years earlier. She had finally come to her senses that night, just before Ray nearly beat her to death. That was also the same night the police had picked him up on probation violation and new drug charges. But the arrest was made too late to save Casey. The thought of this man back in their lives filled Matthew with rage.

“I’ll kill him!” The image of his battered twenty-year-old sister haunted him. Her bouts with sickness. The revelation that she was carrying her abuser’s child and the knowledge that she wouldn’t, couldn’t, have an abortion.

Casey had delivered the baby, but remained a shell of the girl she’d once been. The last beating had damaged her brain and left her with severely diminished mental capacity, unable to raise a child. Despite the efforts of all the doctors who did their best to fix her, she would never be the same.

Jamie, named after Matthew’s father, was born healthy and wonderful. Matthew had raised her as his own daughter. Now this monster was back, threatening to take his so-called story to the press. Threatening to accuse the Strong family of using their substantial influence to gain his arrest in order to get rid of him—get him out of Casey’s life. Of course, he’d be willing to stay quiet for the right price.

Matthew waited while Dan left the back seat and moved to the front. He was fairly confident Ray would not speak a word about the Strong family. He only hoped he had bluffed the man enough to stay away. But he couldn’t be certain. And that uncertainty was the prompt for his next course of action.

Matthew’s jaw ached from his clenched teeth.

With a glance at his gold watch, Matthew tried to stop his heart from racing. He’d taken care of one problem for today. Now it was time to move on to the next item on his agenda: end his career. He’d been groomed for public office since the day he was born. Thirty-seven years in the making. Destroyed in five minutes.

“What time is the press conference?” He kept his tone even, though it took a conscious effort to keep a quiver from his voice. He would give a brief statement and take no questions. The subject of his withdrawal wasn’t up for discussion. After this first and only payoff, he would take away Ray’s only ammunition against the Strong family: Jamie.

“Matt, you sure you want to do this?”

Matthew nodded. He felt raw. Spent. Ready to get it over with. “There’s no choice. If I’m not in the public eye, Ray will have no ammunition against me. No one’s going to care enough about my private life to try to hurt my sister or my daughter. It has to be this way.”

Chapter One

Raven Mahoney’s jaw dropped as the sickening thud of truth slammed her with the force of a major-league line drive to the gut. While she’d been playing the dutiful maid of honor and helping with wedding preliminaries for her sister, Denni, she’d just missed out on reporting the press conference of the year. As far as Raven was concerned, that smacked of injustice.

From the TV screen in Denni’s living room, cameras flashed at dizzying intervals. Raven could almost feel the claustrophobia she experienced every time she stood among the crowd of reporters, fighting for the chance to ask a question.

And she almost always got her chance to ask the tough ones, but not so tough the speaker wouldn’t respond. She knew her success was a nice combination of her looks (especially if the speaker was a guy) and her instincts about how to ask the right questions so they sounded less intimidating. At thirty-five, she’d gained a lot of savvy in her field and she was ready to move one more step up the ladder of success.

Only, the teenybopper on the screen in front of her was getting the story, she, Raven should be getting. Something akin to a growl rose in Raven’s throat, and her predatory nature kicked in.

Enjoy the cameras while you can, little girl, because as soon as I get home, you are going down.

Raven closed her eyes and imagined herself at that press conference. Where she wanted to be. Despite the jumble of cameras and elbows jabbing into her head, she itched to be in the thick of things. To prove, once again, her value to the station. Ten years on the job had to count for something, didn’t it?

Her chest tightened, and pressure began to build. But this time, the claustrophobia struck in the living room of her soon-to-be-wed sister’s Victorian home. Being in the bosom of her loving family suddenly felt more like standing in a trash compactor as the walls inched closer and closer together until finally they squished her, a sensation that had grown familiar over the past few years, ever since her mother’s death, when she’d learned the truth about who Raven Mahoney really was.

In retrospect, it all made sense, but the revelation only served to make her feel more like an outsider in the midst of this family—and all these years later, Mac still hadn’t set the record straight. Nor had Raven. Mac had no idea she knew. And as angry as she was with him for keeping the truth from her, she didn’t have the heart to confront him.

“I can’t believe Matthew Strong is pulling out of the race.” Keri, Raven’s younger sister, married barely a year herself to her childhood sweetheart, flopped onto the overstuffed green couch next to Raven. “I was going to vote for that guy.”

“Shhh!” Raven glared at her sister and pressed the volume-up button on the remote.

“Sheesh, so-o-rry.”

“What’s going on?” Denni, the middle sister, entered the room, her eyes on the TV.

“Shh, or you’ll get your head yanked off.” Keri’s exaggerated whisper resonated through the room.

“I’ll talk if I want. It’s my house. Besides, I’m the bride and everyone must cater to my whims. So there.” Denni stuck her tongue out at Raven.

Raven rolled her eyes at the childish gesture, but couldn’t resist a smile before shifting her focus back to the TV.

Her claws extended at the sight of the so-called reporter staring out from the screen: Kellie Cruise, an upstart and a spoiled-rotten brat—way too under-qualified and inexperienced to be covering a press conference. Especially one of this magnitude. But nepotism at its finest continued to be at work for the daughter of the station manager. And Raven knew if she didn’t act fast, the just-out-of-college kid was going to get Bruce King’s job when he retired. The job that Raven wanted. Deserved.

“What’s going on?” Mac Mahoney’s booming hint of an Irish brogue filled the room.

“Shh!” The three girls spoke in unison.

“Hey, now. Is that any way to speak to your father?” He scowled, but quieted, as his attention turned to the blond-haired, blue-eyed reporter who was wrapping up the breaking-news coverage.

“We’ve been told that Mr. Strong will not be answering any questions on the subject of his withdrawal. Now or ever. His decision is final and is based on personal reasons which he apparently has no intention of revealing.”

The camera shifted back to the studio where the white-haired, almost-retired anchor stared out at the TV audience.

“There you have it, folks. In the political upset of the year, a candidate whom analysts and polls favored by a three-to-one margin has withdrawn his name from the race for Senate with only six weeks left until the primary.” The older gentleman heaved a sigh. “To reiterate…with no warning to his supporters and no explanation, Matthew Strong has pulled out of the race for the Missouri Senate.”

If he’d said, “And may God help us all,” Bruce couldn’t have been more obviously biased. It was only too apparent that he had had high hopes for Matthew’s election to Senate. No matter how much she might agree, Raven couldn’t help but be a bit irritated with his transparency. Part of good reporting was remaining detached, keeping your opinion carefully masked behind the facts and nothing else. Perhaps it was simply that after so many years behind that desk, Bruce didn’t feel he had anything to hide—namely his opinion.

With a sigh, Raven switched off the set as regular programming resumed. Tense silence reigned in the room and she knew her family was struggling not to ask the question. Finally, she could take the tension no more and she shot to her feet. “Okay, yes. It’s Matthew.”

“Your Matthew?” Mac looked at her over half glasses.

“Yes.” She rubbed her throbbing temple with the balls of her fingers in an attempt to ease the pressure. My Matthew. Regret for what might have been all those years ago shot through her. She hadn’t allowed herself second guesses. No regretting her decision. So why was her heart suddenly about to pound out of her chest?

She could still see Matthew’s expression of bewilderment as she’d placed the diamond engagement ring into his palm and curled his fingers around the token. She’d walked away. Transferred to a different school. And that was the last time she’d spoken to him.

Keri’s voice brought her back to the present. “Wow. I wonder what his folks think of him leaving the race. He was a surefire win for his party. Especially with his father dying last year. I don’t think Missouri is ready to live without a Strong representing us in Congress. What was Matthew thinking?”

All eyes turned to Raven as though she should know the answer to the question. “How should I know? I haven’t seen or spoken with the guy since college.”

Raven fingered the cell phone hooked to her waistband. She itched to phone Ken at the station and get the scoop. The press had to know more than they were reporting. No one pulled out of a race without giving some sort of an explanation—even a bogus one. Was there a gag order? She was tempted to make the call, but doing so now would betray her impatience to have this wedding over with so she could get on with her life. She’d been here two days as it was—long enough. Too long, actually, from the looks of things.

Matthew! Couldn’t you have waited a few more days to do this idiotic thing?

Fingering a loose thread on the arm of the couch, Raven considered the new development. What could have happened to make Matt give away the chance eventually to run for president? That was his dream, his goal, not only to follow in his old man’s footsteps, but actually to exceed his accomplishments. His family had groomed him for the White House. He’d had no other ambition except for marrying her. And other than the monkey wrench of a broken engagement, his plan was failsafe—undergrad, law school, interning under an incumbent senator, eventually running for senator himself and serving his constituents until it was time to run for president. Raven was supposed to have helped him decide when the time came. They would have been in their late forties, probably, by the time he was seasoned enough and ready to win the White House. And she’d had no doubt that with or without her he would someday be the president of the United States.

Now what would he do? Return to his law practice? Given his fame, that might be difficult.

She clenched her fist to keep from snatching the phone from its holder. If she could just get back to work, she could figure all this out.

“No way, Rave. You are not wimping out on my wedding, so you can just forget it. I don’t care how big the story is. My wedding is more important. And you’re not ruining it by leaving me one bridesmaid short.”

Jerked from her thoughts by Denni’s firm statement, Raven mustered up her most indignant and wrongfully accused expression. “I can’t believe you think I would consider leaving before the wedding.”

Denni rolled her eyes. “Pul-ease. I recognize that ‘get me out of here before I suffocate’ look. You’re trying to think of a way to weasel out of my wedding so you can go back to Kansas City today—and don’t bother to deny it.”

Heat crept to Raven’s cheeks. “All right. You have me. It crossed my mind for a second. But that’s all—and not really seriously.”

Denni’s responding scowl increased Raven’s shame. She hated feeling guilty and it seemed like she always felt guilty around her family. They expected too much. More than she could give. She knew she was a terrible sister, a terrible daughter. Her gaze focused past her sister to Mac Mahoney. The gruff, but tender retired Irish cop who had raised her, loved her, taught her never to settle for second best at anything in her life.

He looked up from studying the TV listings and his eyes crinkled with his smile.

Raven fought to hold back tears of melancholy.

She might feel like a terrible daughter, but then, she wasn’t really his daughter at all, was she?

The door to the sleek black Lincoln closed behind Matt amid the flashing of cameras and a myriad of questions thrown at him from determined reporters hoping he’d actually answer one. But they didn’t understand. His public image didn’t matter anymore. Only one thing did at this point: keeping Jamie out of the line of fire perpetuated by a biological father with ulterior motives. No telling how far that man might go to extort money from the family. He’d never get custody of Jamie, but he could drag them all through the mud. And that wasn’t something Matt was willing to chance. He’d sacrificed everything to ensure it.

“That’s that,” he said into the airspace between the front and back seats. The driver gave him a quick glance in the rearview mirror and then returned his attention to the road as he realized Matt wasn’t speaking to him.

Exhausted, Matt slouched back against the leather seat and pulled at his silk tie, loosening its stranglehold around his neck. A tangle of frustration, disappointment, anger, all rolled into a lead ball in his stomach, nauseating him.

Leaning his head back against the seat, he closed his burning eyes. He refused tears. Refused to regret his decision. It was the only choice he could have made. The right choice.

Still, he had to wonder how a life that had been so carefully planned could have ended up so off-course. By now he should have been married with two or three kids of his own, should be six weeks away from accepting his party’s nomination for Senate, and only a few months from the next step in his destiny: Capitol Hill, the springboard to the Oval Office.

Backtracking in his mind, he could see that everything started going sour the day Raven Mahoney returned to school after attending her mother’s funeral. He should have gone with her to her hometown of Briarwood, Missouri, in the first place, but she’d insisted it was something she had to do on her own. Her stubbornness was never more evident than when she was trying to prove she didn’t need anyone to lean on. He scowled.

He’d watched her career evolve through the years as a reporter and weekend anchor for Channel 23. She grew more beautiful by the day, it seemed. His throat tightened with longing. No matter how many women he’d dated over the years, he couldn’t get Raven out of his mind. No one measured up, and any relationship he entered into ended within months.

He clenched his fists, still able to feel the prick of the diamond against the soft flesh of his palm when she’d broken their engagement. Maybe it would have been easier to accept…easier to move on…if only she’d told him why.

For the first time in his life, he’d been helpless to achieve his goal. Never had he felt such pain as when he watched Raven walk away from him. He’d hoped she’d glance back, knowing if she did, he could go after her and bring her back to him. But she squared her shoulders, kept her head erect, and never so much as slowed her steps as she walked out of sight.

When he’d spotted her on the local news, it had been all he could do to refrain from picking up the phone. But she’d made it pretty clear he wasn’t the man for her. So he left her alone, but found himself watching her left hand for signs she might be engaged or married. So far, so good.

“Do you want to go in through the main gate, Mr. Strong? Or should I keep going?”

Matthew glanced at his driver, and then out the window. The gate in front of his family home was thick with reporters. “No. Drive on by. We’ll circle for a while. Maybe they’ll get tired and go away. If not, I’ll stay at a hotel.”

They drove the streets of Kansas City until dark, stopping only once at a drive-through. The greasy burger and fries sat heavily in Matthew’s stomach as he tried to pray for wisdom. Peace. How long would it take for all of this to blow over and for the media to lose interest? Not soon enough for his comfort. In the meantime, how would he keep his sister and Jamie away from public scrutiny?

Chapter Two

Raven closed the back driver’s-side door of her red SUV and searched the wad of keys in her hand for the one to the ignition. She glanced at her glowing digital watch with grim satisfaction. Ten minutes after midnight. At this time of night, traffic would be practically nonexistent. She’d be home in four hours.

“I still think you should wait until morning.”

Forcing a smile, she turned to Mac. “I’m wide awake. And this way I’ll miss daytime traffic.”

Mac sighed and shrugged. “I don’t suppose I can force you to do as I say anymore. But be careful and call me as soon as you get to your house—no matter the time. I won’t sleep until you’re home safe and sound anyway. Lock your doors and don’t stop for anyone. Not even flashing red lights. Never know if some sicko bought a strobe light just to fool pretty girls.”

“I promise,” Raven said around a sudden lump in her throat. It felt nice to have someone concerned about her.

As if sensing her mood, Mac opened his arms. She hesitated only a second before surrendering to his familiar embrace.

“I love you, Raven, my sweet girl. You will meet us at the cabin for the fall barbecue, right?”

“I’ll try, Dad. Just depends on how busy I am at work.”

“Well, you’ve got three months to think about it. And make plans.”

Raven pulled out of his arms and opened the driver’s-side door. She rolled down the window as Mac stepped up for a final goodbye.

“I don’t mean to push you, honey. I just miss my girl, that’s all. It’s like pulling teeth to get you home for a visit.”

“I know. I’m sorry. But I’m a busy career woman. When you’re married to your job, it takes a lot of TLC to keep the relationship alive.” She forced a grin in an attempt to lighten the situation.

Mac looked at her with sad eyes. Another sigh escaped his lips. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead through the open window. “I just can’t help but think there’s more to it than just your work.”

“Like what?” Raven asked, shrugging with a nonchalance she hoped he interpreted as her way of saying he was being silly to even think there was a problem.

“I don’t know, honey. You tell me.”

Raven kissed his cheek and then fired up the SUV. “You’re just being paranoid, Dad. Nothing’s wrong except that that ten-year-old, Kellie Cruise, is about to sashay in and get my job if I can’t talk Matt into an exclusive interview.”

A scowl marred his features, but his eyes gentled with acceptance. Raven knew he was letting her go without more argument, advice or admonishment. And she appreciated the gesture. He patted her cheek, then walked around to the sidewalk where he stood with his hands inside his pockets.

A blue economy car whizzed by just as she started to pull away from the curb. She slammed on her brakes to avoid getting sideswiped. “Nice driving, buddy!” she hollered after the retreating car.

“Great way to start the trip,” she grumbled.

As she drove away, Raven glanced in the rearview mirror. The streetlight illuminated Mac’s position. He stared after her, his shoulders slumped. A twinge of dismay stung her heart and she gripped the steering wheel until her fingers ached. They would eventually have to talk, but not today. First she had to deal with Matt. Seeing his face plastered across the screen and hearing his strong, deep voice make his announcement had filled her with a sense of what might have been between them. And along with nostalgia, the pain of Mom’s funeral had crested once more on a tide of buried memories.

How different might her life have been if that drunk driver hadn’t plowed into Mom’s car, killing her instantly? For one thing, Raven wouldn’t have discovered the truth about her paternity. Life would have continued as it was projected to go. Marriage to Matthew. Two-point-five kids. Ignorance would have been bliss. Knowledge had darkened the bright light of hope for the future—a future with Matthew. Everything had changed.

Releasing a sigh, she pressed the accelerator with her toe and the SUV picked up speed, heading north on US 63.

Her eyelids grew heavy an hour later listening to Frank Sinatra’s silky-smooth crooning, and she stopped at a twenty-four-hour quick stop along the highway to grab a cup of coffee. She grimaced. The black brew smelled as if it had probably been sitting there since the afternoon before. The clerk gave her a guilty look and pronounced it “no charge.”

A blast of sultry summer air lifted strands of Raven’s sleek black hair off her neck as she exited the convenience store. A motor revved to her left and she turned in time to see a familiar blue car drive away from the parking lot. Familiar from where?

Visions of the back of that car haunted her, keeping her mind busy while she drove the rest of the way to Kansas City. She pulled into her drive and dialed her dad—per his express instructions, no matter what time she arrived—to let him know she’d made it safely to her door.

Her mind went back to the car that had sped by as she was about to pull away from Denni’s curb. So that’s where she remembered a blue car from. Both small, blue and square. She grinned and shook her head. That was a weird coincidence. Nothing more. Probably wasn’t even the same car. Some reporter she was.

“Hi, Dad,” she said when he picked up. “Just letting you know I’m home safely, so you can go to bed now and try to sleep.”

“Praise the Lord.” She could hear the note of relief in his voice. But there was a weariness that she’d noticed lately that concerned her.

“Dad, you feeling okay? When was the last time you checked your blood pressure?”

“I’m just fine, young lady. Don’t start sounding like Ruthie.”

Raven bristled. The last person she sounded like was Dad’s Southern belle of a fiancée. The mention of the woman’s name conjured the flamboyant red hair piled atop her head like Flo from the eighties sitcom, Alice. The too-cheerful-to-be-real demeanor. The knowledge that Mac could be in love with this type of woman after loving Raven’s mother, a classic beauty with more creativity and style in her little toe than Ruth had in her whole body was just too irritating.

“Well, I’ll let you go, Dad. Get some rest, okay?”

“You too, hon.”

Raven disconnected the call. By the time she’d unloaded her bag, gone inside and showered, dawn was just beginning to glisten over the enormous oak tree in her backyard.

She sat on her deck, wearing a white terry-cloth robe and sipping a mug of strong, black coffee. By 6:00 a.m., she could restrain herself no longer. She snatched up her phone and dialed Ken, her camera guy and the one person she knew would be straight with her. His grumbled, sleepy “Hello” didn’t faze her. He’d interrupted her sleep plenty of times.

“Ken, what’s going on with the Matthew Strong story?”

“Raven?”

“Who else?” Impatience edged her voice, but after two days of no inside info after finding out about Matt, she’d had all the delays she was going to take. “Matthew Strong?”

For the next few seconds all she heard was the rustling of sheets and the hiss of a lighter as presumably, the grizzled, old-before-his-time, forty-five-year-old sat up in bed and lit a cigarette.

“Those things will kill you, Ken. You need to quit smoking.”

“Mind your own business.”

“Fine. They’re your lungs.”

“You got that right.”

Raven shifted in her seat, stifling a yawn. “Tell me about Matt.”

“Matt, is it?”

Despite the fact that Ken couldn’t see her, Raven felt a blush creep up to her cheeks. “We had a thing once a long time ago.”

“What kind of thing?” he asked in his I-smell-a-story tone of voice.

“The kind that’s none of your business.”

“Touché, but is it perhaps the kind of ‘thing’ we might be able to use to get access to the almost-senator?”

An uneasy twist affected Raven’s stomach and suddenly the coffee didn’t sit well. “Just meet me at Corner Coffee, will you? We need to talk and map out a strategy.”

“All right, girl. But let me tell you, I’m not wasting my time on personal ethics. If you got an inside to this guy, you better use it or I might take the sweet Miss Kellie up on her tempting offer.”

“You’re old enough to be her dad.”

“Yeah, well. Ain’t that the kicker? I’m not her dad and she seems to go for my natural maturity. And she likes the way our names go together. Thinks it’s downright cute. Kellie and Ken. It does have a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Raven gave a snort. “Don’t flatter yourself, pops. She wants to break up the wonder twins, and that’s all there is to her sudden attraction.”

It was common knowledge around the station, and had been for the past several years, that Ken and Raven were an unstoppable team. Thanks to Raven’s instincts for where the great story was, they rarely failed to bring it home, and thanks to Ken’s hot ability with a camera, they ended up with unbelievably good shots of whomever they were after. The dream team.

Raven’s ire rose at the very thought that Kellie might be making a play for Ken. And even more so that Ken was exploiting it to bait her into using her past with Matt as a means to an end.

Never mind that she planned to do that anyway, she didn’t need someone reading her so easily. It just made her feel more rotten than she already did.

“Stop threatening me. You know Kellie would get on your nerves in three and a half seconds. You’d be miserable. Meet me in forty-five minutes.”

Without waiting for a reply, she hung up. A second later the phone rang. A grin split Raven’s lips. She snatched up the receiver. “You just have to have the last word, don’t you, cowboy?”

“I’m sorry?”

Raven nearly swallowed her tongue at the unfamiliar voice. “Who’s this?”

“Um, Sonny.”

“Well, Sonny, I think you dialed the wrong number.”

“I don’t think so. Raven Mahoney?”

“All right, buster. I don’t know how you got this number, but I don’t take calls from strange men.”

“Wait! Don’t hang up. If you’re Raven Mahoney, then you’re going to want to talk to me.”

Matthew jolted awake and fought to understand why he could barely breathe.

“Are you awake, Dad?”

A smile lifted the corners of Matthew’s lips and he opened his eyes to find Jamie sprawled across his chest, her dark hair sticking up in about twenty different directions.

“I am now, you little twerp!” Grabbing the little girl he wrestled her across the bed and tickled her just enough to be funny. Too long and it was just mean. Matthew wouldn’t do that. But they both enjoyed a short wrestling/tickle game.

“Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“I saw you on TV yesterday.”

“You did?” Irritation nipped at Matt. “How come you were watching it?” And more importantly, why didn’t his mother keep Jamie away from the set? She knew he wouldn’t want his daughter watching.

“The news interrupted cartoons.”

“I see.”

She stretched out on her side next to him, her ear cupped in the palm of her head as she rested on her elbow. Her eyes dulled with a rare solemnity as she stared at him with concern.

“How come you changed your mind about being senator?”

A lump gouged Matthew’s throat. “I just decided it was best.”

“Why?”

He caressed his daughter’s hair. “Some things are not up for discussion, Jamie. When you’re older, I’ll explain.”

The little girl scowled, looking an awful lot like Ray. Way too much. Matthew’s pulse quickened. As if by instinct, Matthew reached forward and grabbed her into a fierce hug.

“Dad!” The muffled voice held a squeak of mild panic. “You’re squishing me.”

Reluctantly, Matt released her. “Jamie, I want you to listen to me. This is very important. Are you paying attention?”

Wide brown eyes stared back at him, as Jamie nodded.

“You have to be careful. Play close to the house and don’t go near the gate. Understand?”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

She frowned, her freckled nose wrinkling in confusion. “But why do you say so? I always play by the gate.”

“Can you just trust me on this one?”

She hesitated, but gave another nod.

“Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know really well. Even if you see me talking to the same person. Clear?”

“Come on, Dad. What’s all the drama about?”

Matthew smiled at his daughter. “There are some things I’m not ready to talk about.” Like the fact that your natural dad is out of prison and extorting money from me. And if I didn’t step down from the race, he could have used my position to exploit you. If Jamie were a few years older, he could have told her those things, but not at eight years old. For now, she needed to concentrate on playing soccer and watching the Cardinals and having a great summer vacation. “Now, are you clear on the new rules?”

She shrugged. “I guess so. Can we go to breakfast now? Grams said we’re having blueberry pancakes.”

Matthew’s favorite. He had a feeling he’d be getting a lot of his favorite dishes over the next few days. Mom’s way of consoling him. It was a wonder he didn’t weigh a ton.

“Go tell Grams I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Yes, sir.”

Matthew took a quick shower then headed down the hall toward the stairs. He paused at Casey’s door, tapped lightly, then opened it just far enough to see in. His little sister slept peacefully, her long lashes fanning baby-doll cheeks. She was still so innocent. His heart ached for what might have been. What sort of life might she have had if Ray had never come to work at the mansion as a gardener? A user and an abuser, he’d sweet-talked his way into Casey’s life. Her family hadn’t discovered the relationship until it was too late—Casey left home, moved in with Ray and lost her trust fund down the black hole of drug abuse. Ray’s addiction.

Guilt squeezed Matt’s heart. And he thought the same self-condemning words that had repeated themselves over and over during the past eight and a half years.

If only he had never hired the man who had wooed his sister then stolen her innocence.

Chapter Three

Raven mulled over her strange telephone conversation as she wove in and out of five lanes of traffic. She was already twenty minutes late to meet Ken. And Ken didn’t like being kept waiting.

Well, he’d just have to get over it. She wasn’t going to tell him the caller had been her long-lost half brother. A fresh jolt knocked into her gut at the thought. She actually had a brother?

Sonny Thatcher. Son of Josiah Thatcher…her father. A twinge of guilt pinched at her as immediately her mind conjured the image of Mac. She didn’t want to hurt the man who had loved her as his own and raised her with the same loving care as he had her two younger sisters. But how odd to discover her biological father had lived in Kansas City. All these years, they’d shared the same city of residence.

Her conversation with Sonny had been brief. She’d listened to just enough to convince her he might be telling the truth about their familial connection, set up a meeting time and place, then sat on her overstuffed couch and allowed her heartbeat to slow to a steady rhythm for the next ten minutes. She wasn’t positive that she even wanted to know these men. But she couldn’t shake off her curiosity and had set up the meeting despite her conflicting emotions.

A horn blared behind her as she whipped her SUV into the last lane of traffic just in time to avoid missing her exit. That’s all she needed, further delays.

And why wasn’t Ken answering his cell phone anyway? Essentially, it was his own fault he didn’t know she’d be late. She’d tried to call him four times.

She pulled into the parking lot ten minutes later and breezed into the coffee shop. Ken sat at their table.

“I don’t want to hear it,” she said putting up her palm. “I have a good reason for being late.”

He shrugged. “I just got here, myself.”

“Ken! What if I’d been here waiting for thirty minutes?”

He shrugged again. “So, what’s your good reason for being late?”

“Forget it. Let’s just order coffee and get started.”

“I’ve been thinking about it.” He drew on his cigarette, then released the smoke into the aisle where a leggy blonde in a red business suit walked by and glared. Ken gave her a once-over and pointed to the Smoking Section sign.

“I wish you’d stop offending people with those things. Especially when I’m with you. What if they recognize me?”

“You’re flattering yourself again.”

Raven’s cheeks warmed. “What have you been thinking we can do?”

“Most logical? Call him up and remind him why he ever had a ‘thing’ with you in the first place.”

“Hey, don’t imply it was less than it was. We had a real relationship. No kissing on the first date, down on one knee, heirloom engagement ring, the whole works. And yes, waiting until marriage for anything more than kissing.”

Surprise registered on his face. “So he’s the honorable type. That’ll help.”

Raven scowled. “I don’t know if I want to use my past relationship with Matt just to get a story. It cheapens it in a way.” The only real relationship she’d ever had. It was a bittersweet memory, but one she cherished all the same.

“If you don’t get the story someone else will. Are you willing to let it be Kellie?” He leaned forward. “I’ll let you in on a secret a little birdie told me.”

“What?”

“Kellie’s mother is a club friend of Matthew Strong’s mother. Seems they meet once a week for lunch. So you see, Kellie has an inside track to this guy too.”

Raven’s competitive nature took charge. Ken was right. Matthew couldn’t hide forever. Eventually someone was going to track him down and get a story out of him. No way was she going to let that person be Kellie. She stifled a growl. Why did everything have to come to that girl handed on a silver platter? Well, she couldn’t have Matthew!

She snatched up her cell phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling Matt, what do you think?”

Triumph shone in his green eyes. “You know the number by heart?”

“If it hasn’t changed since we were dating. You know I never forget anything. As far as I know he’s still living in a wing at his parents’ mansion. Since his dad died, he’s sort of the man of the family.”

Ken rolled his eyes. “Families are a chain around your neck. You have to cut them loose or you’ll never have any peace.”

Raven hated when he talked like that. Her head and her heart were constantly in a struggle about family and she didn’t like hearing it so blatantly from a bohemian with no morals and no ethics. If Ken weren’t such a great cameraman…

She dialed Matt’s number while Ken looked on. It rang four times then a child answered. “Hello? Who is this?”

“I’m not allowed to say,” the child replied. “Who’s this?”

“Is—is this the Strong residence?”

A long pause on the other end.

“Hello? Are you still there?”

“Yes,” came the whispered reply.

“Is this the home of Matthew Strong?”

“I’m not allowed to say.”

“Who are you talking to, Jamie?”

As if caught playing phone pranks, Raven quickly disconnected.

“What?” Ken stared at her, his eyes asking the obvious question.

“A kid answered. I think I must have gotten the wrong number.”

“Maybe it was Matthew’s kid.”

Raven scowled. “And no one knew about a wife and child? Come on.”

“Yeah, that’s true. So what now?”

Raven took a sip of the too-sweet, chocolate-flavored coffee and pinched a bite from her muffin.

“Matthew was always a creature of habit. He probably still works out at Randy’s Gym on Harrison.”

“Mr. Senator at that dive? I don’t see it.”

“Trust me.” Digging into her purse, she tossed some bills on the table, then stood.

“Where are you going?”

“I think it’s time to get back into shape. See you later.”

With a grin, she exited Corner Coffee and headed to her car. First stop—the sports shop two blocks away. She’d need exercise clothes and gym shoes if she were going to pull this one off.

Now, please God, let Matthew still work out at the gym.

The memory of that phone call this morning irked Matthew. Jamie knew better than to answer the phone. Only the girl’s insistence that the caller had been a woman stopped Matthew from calling the phone company and changing their number.

He couldn’t explain to Jamie. And that made things hard. The kid was growing more independent by the day. Answering the phone was taboo. She knew that. If one of her friends called, she could talk. But she could not answer on her own. Why had the little girl picked now to start testing the limits?

Dusk was settling as he pulled into the parking lot. His muscles twitched, anticipating the welcome punishment. He knew he could trust Randy not to let anyone know he was coming in to work out. The salty characters at his gym were serious body builders who didn’t care if he was a senatorial candidate or a factory worker named Ed. As long as he didn’t hog the free weights, they were cool. Never once had he had to deal with the press before, during or after a workout. And right now he needed to sweat. To push his body to its limits and clear his head.

He kicked the treadmill up a couple of more notches and increased his running speed. His heart responded with the appropriate rise in beats per minute.

The newest CD from his favorite worship band blasted in his ears through headphones, upbeat music lifting his spirits and setting his mind on things above. Soon he became lost in the rhythm of the music and his own body’s rhythm as he pounded out mile after mile on the soft surface.

You’re with me on the mountaintop

When my world comes full stop.

With me in the darkest times,

With me when the sun shines bright.

I know Your hand is guiding me

In trusting You I find release.

Matthew swallowed down the lump in his throat. Trust had been difficult. He couldn’t see where the rest of his life could possibly go. It would be nearly impossible to practice law again any time soon. Too many people knew him. Politics were out of the question—at least until Jamie was grown, and by then, it would most likely be too late.

He supposed he could move to a quiet little town in a different state and start a bookstore or a café or something.

I know Your hand is guiding me.

In trusting You, I find release.

I want to trust You, Lord. But I can’t see what You possibly have planned for me.

He might have continued the prayer, but movement caught his attention through the mirror in front of the treadmill. A woman entered the workout room. Every eye in the place followed her as she glided to a cross-training machine. Matthew’s throat went dry. She looked so much like…

Just then she looked around and spotted him. Her eyes went wide with surprise. Matthew nearly stumbled. To avoid falling flat on his face, he peeled his eyes away from Raven and turned his attention back to the treadmill for just a second to slow to a walk and then a stop. He grabbed a towel and swiped at the sweat streaming from his face, neck and arms as he walked toward her. Not exactly the impression he wanted to make on Raven Mahoney after fifteen years.

Her lips curved into a gorgeous smile that did more aerobically for his heart than the last four miles on the treadmill.

“Matthew,” she said breathlessly. “You still work out here?”

Ignoring the twinge of suspicion niggling through his mind, Matthew took her proffered hand, wishing he didn’t reek of sweat so that he could pull her to him and bury his face in the silky strands of her hair.

“You know me. This is the only place I can get a decent workout. Luckily the press hasn’t gotten wind of it yet.”

Her expression clouded.

“I didn’t mean you.” He smiled.

Relief crossed her features and she smiled back, flashing teeth that were just a little more perfect than he remembered.

“So what have you been up to?” he asked.

“Oh, I just got back from my sister’s wedding in Rolla.”

“Which one?”

Raven smiled. “Denni. Keri married her childhood sweetheart a year ago.”

“So you’re the only unmarried Mahoney girl left?”

She shrugged and her nostrils flared a little the way they did when she was trying to pretend she wasn’t irritated. “I guess so.”

“You didn’t have to be.” Matthew could have kicked himself. Now why had he gone there? Her expression hardened.

“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“Don’t worry about it, Matt. You want to show me how this thing works?” She indicated the cross trainer machine. Clearly the subject was closed.

“How about if I take you to dinner instead?”

“What about my workout?”

He leaned in. “Between you and me, I think you can afford to skip it.”

Pink crawled to her cheeks, charming Matt. So the self-assured reporter still had trouble taking compliments.

“What do you say?” he pressed.

She narrowed her gaze and studied him as if trying to gauge his motives. “You know I’m a reporter. What if all this was a ruse just to get a story from you? Maybe I want you to ask me to dinner?”

The challenge was more than Matt could resist. He winked. “Then let’s just say I played right into your hands.” He knew he’d have to be on guard. Still, after all they’d shared he couldn’t believe she’d callously milk a story from him with no thought to his privacy.

Still, she hedged. “It’s just dinner, Raven. No strings attached.” Unless you want them to be.

Her expression softened and she nodded. “All right. I’ve heard these machines are real torture anyway. Dinner with you has got to be preferable.”

The teasing glint in her eyes shot through his heart, igniting feelings that had eluded him since he’d watched her walk away. She still had him. Hook, line and sinker, his heart belonged to this woman. All she had to do was say the word and he’d bring out that velvet box containing her engagement ring and pick up right where they’d left off.

Maybe he had a future after all. And maybe that future was wrapped up in Raven Mahoney.

Chapter Four

Raven couldn’t believe her luck. She stared across the table as Matt gave the waiter his order and handed back the menu. How was it possible that he’d grown even more handsome during the past fifteen years? A few lines etched the skin next to his eyes and around his mouth, but these served only to give him a mature, distinguished appearance. A few silver strands of hair near his temple added to the effect and Raven found herself wanting to giggle like a nerdy high school girl who had landed a date with the captain of the football team.

One disturbing question probed her mind. How could she have ever led herself to believe she was over Matthew Strong?

He glanced up. A slow grin spread across his face. “I caught you.”

Raven quickly averted her gaze to her own menu, feigning nonchalance. “Caught me what?”

“Staring.”

“Oh, please.” Raven smiled despite her embarrassment. “Still full of yourself, I see.”

“What some people see as egotism, others—Mom, for instance—consider confidence.”

“Confidence, huh?” Raven tried to control her breathing. Keep it even and light. Not give away her out-of-control feelings. But one look into Matt’s eyes and she knew she was fooling no one. Least of all, Matt. The one person who could read her like a copy of the Washington Post.

She didn’t resist when he reached across the table and took her hand, lacing her fingers with his, forming a steeple. “Why, Rave?”

“W-why what?” She swallowed hard, kicking herself for not preparing for this inevitability. Of course Matthew would grab her heart again. She just hadn’t realized he would do it in five seconds flat. That had to be a world record.

“Why did you walk away?”

“I just—had to, Matthew. It’s nothing I can put my finger on, really. I just knew it wasn’t right between you and me.”

“It was right.” His thumb traced the sensitive skin between her thumb and forefinger, making it hard for Raven to concentrate. “We were right together.”

“I—I don’t think so. Life was too complicated. I wasn’t ready to commit.”

“Doesn’t it seem strange to you that we’re both still single? Neither of us moved on.”

Raven snatched her fingers away and hid her hands in her lap. “What makes you think I haven’t moved on?”

Disappointment washed Matthew’s features as the intimate moment between them passed. “No ring.”

“Maybe I don’t believe in conventional tokens of commitment.”

He gave a short laugh. “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend. Even unconventional girls.”

Raven had to smile. Then she grew serious once more. “Just because I haven’t tied myself down to a man doesn’t mean I haven’t moved on, Matt. It just means I’m not interested in a relationship. What I have moved on with is furthering my career.”

“I see.”

And Raven could tell by the smug relief on his face that he did indeed see. And not what she was claiming, either. He saw into the very truth of the matter. A truth that had taken her by surprise—the fact that he still had her heart. But she wasn’t ready to deal with that issue herself, let alone admit it to Matt, of all people.

She fixed him with a dubious rise of her brow. “Oh, please. Don’t make this about you.”

He held up his hand in truce fashion. “Far be it from me to be so egotistical.” But his eyes glinted with amusement.

Raven rolled her eyes. He exuded ego.

“What about you? Why haven’t you moved on?” Desperate to get the focus off of her own life and motives, Raven took a chance on the question, knowing he would more than likely open up all the raw wounds between them. This news story had better be worth all the pain.

He studied her, his blue eyes squinting with intensity, as though probing her mind. She squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze evenly, hoping against hope that she had met her objective and accomplished an expression of passive interest.

“Why haven’t I moved on?” He leaned back in his seat as he repeated her question. “I guess I never found the right girl. No one measures up to Raven Mahoney. Didn’t you know that?”

He was mocking her. Raven knew it and she felt the blush creep to her cheeks in hot trails.

He smiled. “Actually, I’ve just been too busy. First, with law school. And I have to thank you for all my good grades, by the way—if you hadn’t dumped me, I’d have been much too distracted to pass the bar.”

“You’re welcome,” Raven said dryly.

He gave her an appreciative smile for taking the joke as it was intended. “After law school I worked for three years in the offices of Tyler, Hillman and Long.”

“Very prestigious. I’m duly impressed.”

“As I intended you to be. Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome.” Raven’s heart nearly soared at the banter. They had settled into the easy back-and-forth just as though time hadn’t moved forward fifteen years without them.

“Then I went to work as an intern in Senator Grady’s office. Eighty-hour work weeks don’t make for a romantic atmosphere. I barely had time to sleep and spend time with my d—”

An arrow of sharp instinct lodged into Raven’s senses. She raised her brow? “Your what? Dominoes? Diary? Dear old aunt?” She grinned.

With an indulgent smile at her attempt at humor, he gave her another studied look, then almost in defeat, sighed. “My daughter.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a billfold. He handed her a photograph. An adorable little girl with brown hair and marked freckles grinned back at her, revealing two missing front teeth. “That’s a couple of years old. Her teeth have grown in.”

Matt’s pride in the girl was obvious.

Questions tripped over each other in Raven’s mind until she wanted to give them expression, but she sat up a little straighter and forced herself to hold back. A professional never overwhelmed the interviewee. Tread carefully, Raven. Don’t scare him off.

“She’s cute.” She smiled. “Doesn’t look a thing like you, though.”

“She’s adopted.”

“Wow, Matt. That’s amazing.”

“You don’t sound amazed.” A frown creased his brow.

“I’m just wondering why a single man with a busy and promising career would feel the need to adopt. It’s not like you even have a wife to give the child a mother. Why not just find a woman, get married and have a little princess of your own?”

He raised an eyebrow, one corner of his lips tipping in a mocking smile. “Are you applying for the job? Because if you play your cards right—”

“All right!” Raven reached for her water glass with a trembling hand. “You’re going to have to stop bringing up our past as though we’re still a couple, Matthew. It’s….ridiculous.”

“Then you’re going to have to stop behaving like a reporter. I don’t like being interrogated—especially where my family is concerned.”

“I am a reporter. Remember?”

“Funny, and I thought you were an old friend.”

The waiter appeared with their food, effectively cutting off Raven’s reply. For the moment. Matthew turned an expectant gaze back to her. “Do you want to ask the blessing or should I?”

Alarm shot through Raven. Matthew frowned, obviously confused by her hesitation. ‘Everything okay?”

“Uh—yeah,” she said. “You pray.”

He did so, then picked up the conversation where they’d left off. “Well?” he asked. “Are you here as an old friend or as a reporter?”

“I didn’t realize it was taboo for ‘old friends’ to ask about family, Matthew. Or is your personal life only off limits to some old friends?” It had taken her the five minutes the waiter was beside their table to come up with the proper response, and she couldn’t help but silently bless the server for coming to her rescue. Her words nailed him with their intended effect.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I tend to live with a bit of an edge lately. Suspicion is my middle name.”

“Listen, I understand. I’m not one to discuss my personal life much either. I just thought…” She gathered a deep breath just before hammering in the nail. “I just thought you wanted us to be friends again.”

Matthew couldn’t put his finger on exactly why he didn’t trust Raven. Perhaps because she was a reporter, perhaps because she’d suddenly shown up out of nowhere. Perhaps because she had broken his heart and left a gaping wound to remind him not to trust her.

Friends. She was offering friendship when he wanted so much more. He wanted her love, her adoration, her devotion. He wanted her heart and body—in a pure and holy union before God.

Friendship wouldn’t do. He’d rather never see Raven again than be forced into a lesser relationship.

On the other hand, perhaps some time on a friendship basis with her would give her a chance to realize she still loved him. And Matthew knew she still cared. He could read it in her eyes, had felt it in the rapid pulse at the base of her wrist. Perhaps he could finally get an answer—once and for all—as to the reason she had walked away from their love.

“Friends, huh? You’re right. All of my friends know about my daughter. So why should you be any different?”

“Well, look. If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. We haven’t seen each other in a very long time. You might not want to become reacquainted.”

There it was again. That feeling she was playing him. Would she be so callous as to use his feelings for her just to bring home a story?

“I want to tell you about Jamie.”

“Jamie, huh? Named after your dad.” She smiled. “That means you’ve had her since she was a baby.”

“How do you figure that?”

“You named her. I can’t see you adopting an older child and changing her name.”

Matthew grinned. “Always thinking deductively, aren’t you?”

A shrug lifted slender shoulders. “Comes with the job.”

“All right. Yes. I took her home from the hospital and she’s been my daughter since the day she was born.”

“What of her birth parents?”

The question was to be expected. Still Matthew hesitated.

“Not something you want to talk about?” Raven asked, her gorgeous brown eyes fixed on him, almost daring him to close the subject and prove he didn’t trust her.

“Her mother is my sister.”

“Casey?”

“Yes.”

“She wasn’t married, I take it.”

“No, she wasn’t. The baby’s father sweet-talked her out of her entire trust fund then beat her half to death when she wised up and tried to leave him—by then she was pregnant. It’s amazing she didn’t lose the baby.”

“Oh, Matthew. I’m so sorry to hear that. How is she now?”

“Honestly? She’s brain-damaged. Mentally she’s about Jamie’s age.”

“He beat her that badly? Did he go to jail for it?”

“He went to jail for other things.”

“I’m guessing the judge revoked his parental rights?”

“A judge didn’t have to. Ray gave up his parental rights more than willingly. Signed Jamie over to me legally.”

“How is it that the press didn’t make a big deal about this? Jamie has to be around six or seven at least.”

“She’s eight. And the reason no one knows about her is because I’ve purposely kept a low profile. Remember we’re just wrapping up the primary season. If I had continued on to the general election, I’m sure it would have come up.”

She clamped her lips together as though purposely keeping her mouth shut. But Matthew saw the unasked questions lingering in her eyes. He didn’t blame her. He supposed she instinctively formed the right questions in her mind. And that’s what made her so good at her job. But reporter or no, to her credit she didn’t pry.

“So tell me about your family. How’s your dad?”

Raven’s face clouded.

“What is it? Is he all right?”

“Oh, just a little high blood pressure and a fiancée who doesn’t help it.” She gave him a dubious grin. “Other than that, he’s all right.”

“Then why the long face?”

“Long face?”

“During our…previous acquaintance…your face lit up like a light show any time you mentioned your dad. The wonderful and wise Mac Mahoney. No one measured up, and, quite frankly, I was a little jealous.”

A throaty laugh lifted into the air between them. “Believe me, Mac is still wonderful and wise. But let’s just say I’m a little wiser as well.”

“That’s nice and cryptic of you.”

She shrugged, her face hardening. “Not cryptic, just not a topic open for discussion.”

“I see. You want your ‘friends’ to open up their family drama, but you’re not willing to do the same. Typical.”

“Oh, please. Don’t try to turn this around on me.”

“Would you like dessert?” The waiter’s sudden appearance gave Matthew a start.

“No, thank you,” Raven snapped. “I’d like the check please.”

“I’d like the check,” Matthew corrected, eyeing the waiter sternly.

“Don’t you dare give it to him!”

“Shall I split it between you?” the waiter asked, his expression that of a deer caught in headlights.

“Yes, we’ll go Dutch.”

Matthew released an exasperated sigh. “Fine,” he said to the waiter. “Split the check.”

Smoke curled into the air from the cigarette clenched between his lips. He leaned against his car and watched the couple coming out of the restaurant across the street. Brief panic grabbed his stomach as the man hesitated, glanced toward him.

In a fit of daring, he’d parked right below the streetlight, which illuminated his blue hood. Now he had to wonder how smart it was to be parked where they might glance over and see him any second. But if Matthew Strong noticed a man leaning against an old blue beater, smoking a cigarette, he made no indication of it. Typical of a politician. Unless there were a baby he could kiss or a cause he could exploit, he wouldn’t take notice of anything past the end of his own nose.

Raven Mahoney glanced at her watch impatiently, waiting for the valet to bring her car around. Her sleek black hair swayed with the jerky movements that clearly stated her irritation.

He’d recognize her anywhere. Even in the misty night, he could see her beauty every bit as defined as on television.

He took a long, slow drag from his cigarette and watched as a champagne-colored luxury car approached. The politician exchanged what was presumably a tip, for his keys. He opened the door to Raven’s car for her and she slid not-so-gracefully inside.

They drove away, leaving him to stare until the taillights vanished from his view. After one last drag from his cigarette, he tossed it to the ground and headed for the driver’s-side door.

Anger burned in him. But now wasn’t the time for a confrontation. That would come later. After everything was in place.

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