“I never should have done it. I should have left you out there to freeze!”

Kristin had been so full of emotion, so intent on getting out all the pent-up anger, she hadn’t really been thinking about what kind of a reaction to expect from him—and for a moment Jake didn’t do anything. He just stood there, staring down at her.

But then the most amazing thing happened. Suddenly he was coming toward her, reaching for her, pulling her close.

“I could have lost you,” he growled, pulling her into him. “I could have lost you.”

His words made their way into her heart and burst through her system like fireworks on the Fourth of July. She forgot about being angry, forgot about being careful and staying in control. Suddenly she understood there were some things worth suffering for—and in that moment she knew Jake Hayes was one of them.

Dear Reader,

Welcome to another fabulous month of the most exciting romance reading around. And what better way to begin than with a new TALL, DARK & DANGEROUS novel from New York Times bestselling author Suzanne Brockmann? Night Watch has it all: an irresistible U.S. Navy SEAL hero, intrigue and danger, and—of course—passionate romance. Grab this one fast, because it’s going to fly off the shelves.

Don’t stop at just one, however. Not when you’ve got choices like Fathers and Other Strangers, reader favorite Karen Templeton’s newest of THE MEN OF MAYES COUNTY. Or how about Dead Calm, the long-awaited new novel from multiple-award-winner Lindsay Longford? Not enough good news for you? Then check out new star Brenda Harlen’s Some Kind of Hero, or Night Talk, from the always-popular Rebecca Daniels. Finally, try Trust No One, the debut novel from our newest find, Barbara Phinney.

And, of course, we’ll be back next month with more pulse-pounding romances, so be sure to join us then. Meanwhile…enjoy!

Leslie J. Wainger

Executive Editor

Night Talk
Rebecca Daniels

MILLS & BOON

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REBECCA DANIELS

will never forget the first time she read a Silhouette novel. “I was at my sister’s house, sitting by the pool and trying without much success to get interested in the book I’d brought from home. Everything seemed to distract me—the dog, the kids, the seagulls. Finally, my sister plucked the book from my hands, told me she was going to give me something I wouldn’t be able to put down and handed me my first Silhouette novel. Guess what? She was right! For that lazy afternoon by her pool, I will forever be grateful.” From that day on, Rebecca has been writing romance novels and loving every minute of it.

Born in the Midwest but raised in Southern California, she now resides in the scenic coastal community of Santa Barbara with her two sons. She loves early-morning walks along the beach, bicycling, hiking, an occasional round of golf and hearing from her fans. You can e-mail Rebecca at rdaniels93111@hotmail.com.

TYVMFE! And for Jackson Jerome Phillips:

Aunt Nell has a place at the table for you.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 1

“He said he couldn’t go that long, you know, without…er…without it.”

“Without sex?”

“He’s a man, he has needs.”

“And this was while you were in traction.”

“Right, for six weeks. He said it would just be for then, just while I…couldn’t. H-he promised it would stop after that, he wouldn’t see her anymore once I was…well, once we could…we could…”

“We get the idea. And that was okay with you?”

“He’s a man, he has—”

“Needs, yeah, you mentioned that.”

“But then, when I got home from the hospital I found it. The letter.”

“The Dear Jane.”

“Yes.”

“And he was long gone, right?”

“He went with her to Alaska. They’re going to look for gold.”

“Gold? Oh brother!”

“Gold? You mean like prospect?”

“Yeah, that’s why he said he needed my truck.”

“Your truck?”

“It’s four-wheel drive, he had to borrow it, you know, to get up into the mountain.”

“He didn’t borrow it, lady, he stole it.”

“He took your truck without checking with you first?”

“He just borrowed it. He promised to bring it back once they struck it rich.”

“I don’t call that borrowing, Sally. I call it grand theft auto.”

Jake smiled.

“But I miss him, Jane.”

“Oh jeez, lady, give me a break.”

“Sally, my dear girl, give me a break. You don’t miss this guy, you escaped him. He didn’t leave you, he did you a favor.”

Jake’s smile widened. It wasn’t the first time they’d thought alike. “You tell her, Jane.”

“Count yourself lucky all this relationship cost you was your truck.”

“But…but I love him.”

“Well, if you do, he doesn’t deserve your love, Sally. But there will be someone who does. Anybody agree? Anybody out there have advice for Sally Sad in Savannah, or a story of the love you’ve lost that you’d like to share? Let’s hear from you, 1–800–NIGHT TALK. This is ‘Lost Loves’ and I’m your host, Dear Jane—Jane Streeter—and here’s a little smooth jazz to soothe those aching hearts.”

Jake stretched back as best he could in the narrow lawn chair, listening to the sultry tones of the saxophone drift out from the speaker and up into the night sky. It was late, too late, and he needed to be up early in the morning, but he wasn’t sleepy. He’d gotten caught up in the music and the stories from callers who had phoned into the late-night radio program, caught up in the soft, velvety voice of Dear Jane.

Of course, if anyone were ever to ask, he would deny it to the death that he was part of the legion of listeners across the country who tuned in to the popular call-in program. After all, real men didn’t listen to programs called “Lost Loves.” They went for things like sports and hard-core news. But when you live alone at the top of a mountain, the nights get to be long, and the low, sultry voice of Jane Streeter helped fill the hours.

A tiny flicker of light glimmered suddenly out of the blackness from the far side of the canyon below. Jake sat up, automatically reaching for his binoculars. No flame, no fire, nothing to get excited about, but he would check it out anyway.

He focused the high-powered lens on the tiny spot of light. Just the pale beam from the headlights of a lone vehicle on the narrow mountain road. Too late for campers to be out. Besides, it was off-season. The campground wasn’t set to open for another six weeks yet. More likely one of the handful of locals who lived year-round in the tiny fishing village of Vega Flats, which was three thousand feet and fifteen very rugged miles below his mountaintop perch. It was probably Mac making his way back to his cabin on the ridge after closing up the tavern in town, or maybe Ruby from the bait shop, out looking for night crawlers or tracking down one of her stray colts from the small herd of free-roaming horses she raised.

Jake followed the headlights’ slow progression along the winding mountain pass until they became lost in the dense overgrowth and disappeared. He had planned to swing by the Flats tomorrow to pick up his mail while he was out checking a report of a mudslide along the trailhead leading up the east ridge. He would give that stretch of road a look just to make sure whoever was down there had gotten to where they were going okay. The narrow gravel pass was treacherous in broad daylight; in the dead of night it could be a killer.

“We’re back and we’ve got Miss Priss from Mississippi. What do you say to Sad Sally?”

“Jane, I’ve only got one thing to say to Sally and that’s good riddance to bad rubbish. Let’s hope she’s seen the last of him.”

The loud click on the line had a laugh coming from Dear Jane.

“Okay, Miss Priss, thank you for that. Rita in Rialto, what’s your advice for Sally? What’s a girl to do when her man takes off with her neighbor and her four-wheel drive?”

“Well I’m with you, Jane. Sally honey, if my man did that to me, he’d be doing some serious talking to the business end of my Colt .45.”

“Colt .45, ouch!” Jake laughed, dropping the binoculars to his lap.

“Whoa, Rita, gunplay, that’s a little harsh, isn’t it? After all, isn’t all fair in love and war?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t shoot him, honey, just put the fear of God into him. And if that didn’t work, I’ve got a friend over in San Bernardino who could turn that dude into a dudette.”

Jake laughed again and shook his head. “They grow them mean in Rialto.”

“Well okay, Rita in Rialto, thanks for the call. Let’s go to Harry, calling in from the East Coast. Harry, what’s the word?”

“I think you’re right, Jane. There are a lot of good men out there, Sally. Forget that creep. You’re better than that and don’t let yourself be disrespected like that again.”

“Sage advice, Harry, thanks for tuning in. Now here’s a sad story from the Pacific Northwest. This is Tim from Tacoma. You’re on, Tim. Talk to me.”

Jake leaned back in the chair again and listened as the story unfolded. He stretched out his long legs, hooking his knees over the edge of the deck’s railing. It had been a mild winter and spring had come early. But despite the clement days of early March, midnight on the mountaintop was always cold, and sitting on the deck, which encircled the lookout tower’s dome, it was even colder. Snow still dusted the ground in a few spots and the thermometer hanging on the post beside the sliding door read thirty-six degrees.

He pulled his Gortex jacket around him tightly and reached for the glass of wine on the small metal table beside the chair. He didn’t mind the cold, but even if he had he wouldn’t have gone inside. The midnight sky was brilliant with a million stars and worth risking cold ears and a red nose.

He drained the glass, feeling the alcohol warm a path down his throat, and listened while Dear Jane talked with the caller on the line. There wasn’t another sound on the mountain and her voice drifted out into the darkness like the wind through the redwoods. He’d been first drawn to “Lost Loves” by the jazz, an eclectic mix of new and classic pieces, but it wasn’t long before he found himself listening to the rest of the show—in particular to Dear Jane herself.

Jake wasn’t one for talk radio and normally wouldn’t have much patience for the sad stories phoned in by listeners. But there was something in the way Dear Jane responded to her callers, something so practical, so down-to-earth and rooted in common sense that he could appreciate. She seemed genuine, real, and she refrained from the usual antics of the media to stir up controversy or feign concern in an attempt to promote ratings. It was her manner, her comments, her sense of humor that had him tuning in night after night—well, that and her sexy voice.

“So that winds down another one for tonight. Don’t forget to tune in tomorrow and catch the irrepressible Sly Fox, who will be sitting in for me for the next few days while yours truly takes a little R&R away from heartache.”

“Who broke your heart, Jane?” Jake asked, gathering up the glass and binoculars and slowly rising to his feet.

“But I’ll be back on Monday night with the best in jazz and worst in love. In the meantime, you’re in good hands with Sly Fox.”

“But Sly Fox is no Dear Jane,” Jake commented. The substitute host had filled in for Jane Streeter on several occasions in the six months he’d been listening and Jake would inevitably find himself losing interest in those broadcasts. But he didn’t mind this time. With Ted’s wedding, he wasn’t going to be able to catch the program for the next few nights anyway.

The reminder that all too soon he would be heading down the mountain and returning to Los Angeles again had a mixture of emotions broiling up inside and he suddenly felt cold—the kind of cold that had nothing to do with the brisk night air. The sturdy Gortex could protect him from the elements but it didn’t stand a chance against the dread that pushed itself up from the past.

“And don’t forget, love may be a many-splendored thing, but when it’s over, we’ll be here waiting. This is Dear Jane—Jane Streeter—and you’ve been listening to ‘Lost Loves’. Until next time, dream, hope and love until it hurts. Good night.”

Jake took one last glance across the sky, but like his disturbing sense of dread, the wind had kicked up, whistling through the trees and dropping the temperature another few degrees. He reached up, switching off the small outside speaker mounted on the wall, and pushed the sliding glass door open. The blast of warm air that greeted him from inside the tower felt delicious and inviting, causing him to shiver again.

Ranger Station and Fire Watch LP6, with its solid stone walls and thirty-foot tower perched atop Mount Holloway, was known as Eagle’s Eye, and in the three years since he’d been appointed its ranger, he’d grown accustomed to the volatile weather conditions. The remote assignment in the backcountry of California’s Los Padres National Forest wasn’t usually the first choice of rangers entering the United States Forestry Service. Not many welcomed, or could tolerate, the solitude and the rugged living conditions. But solitude was exactly what Jake had wanted when he’d joined the Service three years ago. He’d wanted to be by himself, wanted to be as far away as he could get from people, from the LAPD and from the memories.

Valerie had accused him of running away—from her, from their marriage and from all the reasons that it wasn’t working. But things hadn’t been working between them for a long time, long before there had been a drug dealer under indictment and a key witness to protect.

He’d been a cop for ten years and had considered himself a damn good one. He’d worked hard to make his way up through the ranks, putting in long hours and many late nights. But while his efforts had paid off, landing him in charge of an elite task force working to bring down a major drug-smuggling operation in the Los Angeles area, the strain it put on his relationship with Valerie had put their marriage in jeopardy. He’d promised her once the assignment was over, he would take some time off and work on making things right between them—and who knows, maybe if things had worked out as they should, they could have salvaged something. But as it was, he’d never know. Fate had stepped in and changed everything.

He hung the binoculars on a hook beside the door and switched off the lights and the stereo. The tower went black and he followed the pale glow of the lights along the spiral stairwell to make his way across the tower’s dome. He didn’t like thinking about those days or about that old life, but sometimes even time and distance couldn’t block out the memories.

Ricky Sanchez. He’d been a man who had worked hard all his life, a kind, decent man with a wife and a family, a man Jake would never forget.

It had been a warm summer night in June when Ricky Sanchez had gone about his normal janitorial duties of waxing floors, emptying trash cans and cleaning the rest rooms after hours in one of L.A.’s towering glass and steel high-rise office buildings. But on that particular night it had been the wrong place to be at the wrong time. From an unseen spot in a maintenance closet, Ricky unwittingly became the eyewitness to a high-level drug deal that had turned deadly.

Ricky hadn’t known at the time that it was notorious drug lord Donnie Hollywood whom he had seen put a bullet in the head of a rival, but instinct had told him the only way to stay alive had been to find a hiding place and stay there, which is exactly what he had done. He’d still been trembling in a crawl space when the police had found him the next morning.

Jake still remembered the rush of adrenaline he’d felt when he’d listened to Ricky tell what he had seen. They had been trying for months to get something on Hollywood, something that would put him out of commission for good, but he’d managed to elude them each time. But now they had him on a murder charge and Ricky’s testimony was going to put him away for life.

It hadn’t come as a surprise when word filtered in from the streets that Hollywood had promised a hefty reward to anyone who succeeded in taking out the prosecution’s star witness. The authorities had already taken steps to protect Ricky, and Jake had been confident they had thought of everything to keep him safe. He’d been stashed in a safe house with around-the-clock security and no one outside of Jake, the D.A. and a small, select number of task force agents—all of whom he had trusted implicitly—knew how to find him.

Unfortunately, it was the one thing Jake hadn’t accounted for that did Ricky in. It had been one of their own, one of his own task force agents who had betrayed him. Hollywood had managed to do the one thing Jake had thought could never happen, turn one of his men against him, and it was a mistake he would regret for the rest of his life. It had not only cost Ricky his life, but the lives of two more task force agents as well.

Jake paused at the top of the stairs, staring down the narrow passage. The sense of betrayal had been overwhelming but the sense of failure had been even worse. Ricky had known the risk, had understood the danger, but he’d agreed to testify anyway. He had trusted Jake and the other members of the task force with his life, and they had let him down. At the funeral, Ricky’s wife had told Jake she forgave him, and her words had haunted him every day since then. How could she forgive him when he hadn’t been able to forgive himself?

He made his way down the stairs and along the corridor to his small apartment. It had been over three years since the funeral, three years since Valerie had left him and he’d decided to resign from the force. He’d failed—both in his personal life and at work. He’d dropped the ball. His wife had suffered and an innocent man had paid with his life. How could he ever forget that?

He’d hoped being alone would help him work through his guilt, would help him put the past behind him and allow him to get on with his life. But he was beginning to think that was never going to happen. Ted had told him he needed time to heal, but in three years the wounds still felt fresh.

He reached inside the door and flipped on the kitchen light. The station had originally been designed to house two rangers, with living quarters for each—one built into the stone base of the tower and another one above a detached garage about thirty yards across a small compound—but lean budget times allowed for only one ranger to be assigned. Jake had chosen to live in the apartment within the tower. While the actual living area was no larger than the quarters above the garage, the tower housed the main kitchen, laundry facility and a fireplace. Besides, it had just made sense that he be close to the station’s elaborate communications systems, located in the tower, in the event of an emergency.

Setting the glass in the sink, he headed for the bedroom, feeling as though he could sleep for twelve hours straight. But despite his fatigue, sleep eluded him.

Maybe it was a good thing he would be leaving the mountain. Maybe he needed to test the waters a bit, see what it was like to be back in civilization again, to be among friends, eat a little junk food and maybe even drink a little too much—at least for a little while. While leaving wasn’t exactly something he was looking forward to, he should try to make the best of it. Besides, he hadn’t been able to say no to Ted.

Los Angeles police detective Lieutenant Ted Reed was like a brother to him and if it hadn’t been for Ted, Jake wasn’t sure he would have made it through those terrible months after Ricky’s death and the divorce from Valerie. The two of them had grown up in a neighborhood in Los Angeles where it paid to know who your friends were and who you could trust to watch your back—and Ted had protected his on more than one occasion. Somehow the two of them had managed to survive the poverty and the violence, the dysfunction and the disadvantages, even though it hadn’t been easy. They’d made the decision to enter the police academy together and had supported each other throughout the ten years they’d served on the force. The hard times had forged a permanent bond between them. It made them survivors.

It had been almost awkward when Ted asked him to serve as best man at his wedding. But he understood. As men and as cops they had learned to play their cards close to the vest and keep emotions to themselves. Ted hadn’t told him much about the woman he was marrying but Jake could hear the emotion in his friend’s voice. The feelings were there—powerful and deep—and it wasn’t necessary for them to go through the uncomfortable ritual of talking about them.

The wedding was in a couple of days and Jake planned on heading down the mountain in the morning after he got back from checking the trailhead. While Eagle’s Eye was remote, he was never really alone. The area wasn’t without inhabitants. There was Claybe Fowler, his nearest neighbor in the Forest Service, who manned the Cedar Canyon Ranger Station located eight thousand feet below at the base of the mountain. And during Jake’s regular trips to Vega Flats, its motley crew of residents had all become his friends. Of course, during the summer months there were hikers and mountain bikers, campers and even a handful of hunters and fishermen about, and with the help of the tower’s state-of-the-art communications and computer system, he also managed to keep in touch with the outside world. He talked to Ted, his co-workers, his mom and his sister on a regular basis via his ham radio and his cell phone, when he could catch a signal. The satellite dish gave him more television channels than he could count and, of course, there was the radio and Jane—Dear Jane.

So, while isolated, he hadn’t exactly been alone the last three years. And while he didn’t relish the thought of going back to L.A., he owed it to Ted.

“Go to sleep,” he ordered himself, rolling onto his side and pulling the comforter around him close.

He let his mind drift, thinking back over the stories he’d listened to tonight on the radio. He wondered just how many of them were real and how many were made up just to get on the air.

He thought of Dear Jane’s soft purring voice. Would he make up something just to get on the air with her? Or would he need to? If he were to tell her about Valerie, about Ricky and how responsible he felt for his death, what would her advice to him be?

“I know you’re there Jane, I can hear you breathing. Oh Jane, dear Jane, it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything—you got plenty said on the radio tonight. It’s my turn now. You can listen to me for a change.

“Did you get my letter? If you read it you will know it won’t be long now. I’ll find you. I’ll find you and the—”

Her hand shook as she flipped the call button, cutting off the caller. The ringing in her ears was almost deafening and her heart beat so fast in her chest it was almost painful.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Hmm…wh-what?” She looked up into Dale’s kind, round face. “Y-yes, I’m fine. Why?”

“I don’t know, you look a little pale.” Her producer regarded her for a moment, his gaze narrowing. “That was him, wasn’t it? It was that psycho again. He used the call-in line, the son of a—”

“He just wanted to let me know he’d been listening.”

Dale reached for the telephone receiver.

“No, please,” she said, stopping him with a hand on his.

“We need to report this.”

“It was just more of the same stuff as before, just him getting his jollies—nothing new.”

“But the cops are going to want to know.”

“And I’ll tell them, I promise. Just not tonight. I’m exhausted and they’ll keep me here answering questions until dawn.”

He picked up the phone, offering it to her. “Call them.”

“He’s on tape, they can listen in the morning.”

“They told you to report every time he called.”

“I will, I promise,” she insisted, taking the phone and lowering it onto the cradle. “First thing tomorrow.”

Dale drew in a deep breath and gave her a skeptical look. “If you don’t, I will.”

“I will,” she vowed with mock seriousness, raising a hand. “Scout’s honor.”

Dale made a face, and pushed away from the desk. “I got a bottle in my desk drawer. Feel like a drink?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ve got a long drive home.”

“Well, if you change your mind,” Dale said, heading for the door, “give me a shout.”

“I’ll do that.”

At the door Dale stopped and turned back to her. “And let me know when you’re ready to leave. I don’t want you walking out to your car by yourself.”

She nodded. “Yes, Mother.”

Dale snorted and shook his head. “You amaze me, sitting there so cool and calm. Doesn’t it bother you knowing that nut’s out there somewhere?”

“Sure it bothers me. But you said it yourself, he’s a nut and more than likely he’s probably harmless,” she said, feeling her throat grow tight. “Although I admit, I’ll feel a lot better when the police have him behind bars.”

Dale smiled. “Believe me, we all will.”

She laughed, but as Dale pulled the studio door closed behind him she let the smile fade from her lips. She glanced down at her hands, balling them into tight fists to stop them from shaking. She felt sick—shaky and sick—and it would take more than one drink for her to forget that horrible voice over the line.

“Don’t think about it. Just don’t think about it,” she mumbled aloud.

She closed her eyes, pressure throbbing painfully at her temples, and squeezed her fists even tighter. Her nails bit into the flesh of her palms but she didn’t care—anything to stop the shaking.

Who was she kidding? She wouldn’t be able to get down enough alcohol to get that raspy, mocking voice out of her head. Besides, she had a client coming in early tomorrow. It was hard enough balancing a private counselling practice with a nightly radio program without throwing a hangover into the mix. Still, it might be worth a try. She could call her partner to cover for her and lose herself in a couple of bottles of wine.

She rubbed her fists against her temples, slowly massaging. If only Dale knew how terrified she really was—if only everyone did. But she was determined no one ever would. She was not going to allow herself to give in to the fear—she didn’t dare. Keeping up a front was the only way she could cope. Besides, maybe if she pretended long enough the awful fear really would go away… only that hadn’t happened yet.

When the letters first started showing up in the mailbag eight months ago, she hadn’t been too concerned. After all, she received so much mail at the station it was only natural there would be a few crackpots in the bunch. But after several weeks, when the letters turned to phone calls, and the phone calls turned threatening, she’d gotten very concerned—and so had everyone else.

How foolish she had been in the beginning—and how naive. But he’d seemed so harmless at first, she’d honestly thought she might be able to talk some sense into the guy. She had taken those early calls, listening as he rambled on and on in that mechanical-sounding voice about why he believed they were meant to be together and why she should accept it. She never should have taken those calls, never should have listened. The calls had grown increasingly hostile and she was never going to forget those words or the images they left in her brain.

“I’m not going to think about it. I’m not going to think about it,” she insisted, her hands starting to shake again.

“You say something?”

“Huh? What?” She jumped violently, startled by the sudden appearance of the station’s young intern at the door. “N-no.”

The young man shrugged, looking confused. “Uh, Dale said I should walk you out to your car. You ready to go?”

“Oh, right, y-yes.” Her throat was tight and she cleared it with a small cough. “I’m…I’m ready.”

She felt foolish following the young man down the corridor and into the elevator, but if the truth be known, she was grateful not to be alone. Of course, there was just the rest of the night to think about—the drive home, the empty house, the long hours until dawn. She would hear every noise, jump at every bump, wonder about every shadow—just as she had every night for the last eight months. It wasn’t much better once she finally did drift off to sleep. Dreams filled with shadows and danger and dark, looming figures were even worse.

The elevator doors slid open, the sound echoing through the nearly deserted parking garage. And the hollow sound of their footsteps along the concrete made it feel even emptier.

“I like your car,” the intern said as the automatic door locks opened with a chirp.

“Thanks,” she said, eyeing the interior of the SUV carefully. When she was sufficiently sure no one was hiding inside, she slid onto the seat. “And thanks for walking me down. I really appreciate it.”

“Not a problem. Take care,” he said, raising his hand in a wave as he started back for the elevator. “Hasta.”

“Yeah, hasta,” she mumbled, slamming the door and quickly triggering the doors to lock again.

She hated living like this. It wasn’t fair, her life was not her own anymore—and all because of that…that creep. He was out there somewhere, doing what he wanted, going where he wanted to go, no restrictions, no fears. She was the one living in a prison, constantly looking over her shoulder, afraid of what might be around the corner, and she resented it.

“And that’s exactly what he wants,” she concluded aloud into the silence of the car—which only added to the insult. He wanted to terrify her and he’d managed to do that very effectively.

Frustrated, she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street, punching at the radio and turning up the volume to full blast. Maybe he was out there. Maybe he was watching right now—and she almost wished he was. If he wanted to see her cower and hide, he would be disappointed. She may be frightened, her nerves may be frayed and on edge, but he wasn’t going to get the best of her—no way in hell.

“Finally! The mountain man has arrived” Ted made his way through the small cluster of people milling about in the church foyer, waiting for the rehearsal to begin. With arms outstretched, he grabbed Jake in a bear hug. “Am I glad you’re here!”

“I’m late, I’m sorry,” Jake apologized, returning Ted’s hug. “The 405 was like a parking lot. I didn’t think traffic would be so bad this time of day.”

“Now I know you’ve been up on that mountain too long,” Ted said, pulling back. “This is L.A., have you forgotten? Traffic is bad here—period! It doesn’t matter what time it is.” He rested a hand on Jake’s shoulder and took a deep breath. “You’ve got to help me.” He ran a hand over his stomach. “Honest to God, I think there are butterflies in there. I’m not cut out for this.”

Jake couldn’t resist the urge to smile. Ted’s tall, lanky build and sun-bleached hair may have had him looking more like a California surfer than a seasoned cop, but that only proved just how deceiving looks could be. Typically restrained and self-controlled, not much ever ruffled his feathers, and even if it did, you would never know. But he definitely looked worse for wear now.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous. A tough cop like you?”

“Felons I can handle. What I need is protection from the wedding planner.”

Jake frowned. “What’s a wedding planner?”

“Not what—who,” Ted clarified, turning slowly and gesturing to a small, well-dressed woman chatting with a group of people in the church. “Although, if you ask me, she’s more like the wedding Nazi.”

Jake turned to look at the woman. “That tiny little lady? You’re afraid of her?”

“Don’t let her size fool you,” Ted warned. “I’ve known prison guards who could take lessons from her.”

“Want me to go over there and rough her up?”

Ted made a face. “Funny, very funny.”

Jake laughed. “Well, calm down, the cavalry has arrived. I’ll protect you if…” He glanced at the petite woman and laughed again. “If Minnie Mouse over there decides to get mean.”

Ted laughed then too. He gave Jake’s shoulder a good-natured pat and his smile faded just a little. “But I admit, I do feel a whole lot better now that you’re here. I miss having you around.”

Jake’s face grew sober. Ted knew better than anyone this trip to L.A. wasn’t going to be easy for him. “Maybe I’ve got a few butterflies too.”

“No reason to,” Ted assured him. “We’re all friends here and everyone is really anxious to see you. They all miss you.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“Yeah, well,” Jake said with a shrug. “There’s no way I was going to miss your wedding.”

“I was banking on that. I don’t think I could get through all this without you,” Ted confessed. He looked at the activity happening around them and shook his head. “Just look—all this fancy, foofy wedding stuff—it isn’t me. What am I doing here?”

Jake’s gaze narrowed. “You’re not having any…second thoughts, are you?”

“About marrying Cindy?” Ted shook his head. “No way. She’s…well, she’s…perfect! You’re going to love her.”

“As long as you do, that’s all that’s important.”

“Oh, I do,” Ted assured him, gesturing to the activity around them again. “Enough to put up with all this.”

Jake looked around then too and nodded. “Must be true love.”

Ted started to smile, but spotting the diminutive wedding planner headed their way, suddenly bolted to attention.

“We’re starting in five minutes, boys,” she declared as she breezed by. “Find a seat inside.”

Ted’s gaze followed as she passed, then slid to Jake. “You heard her, we better get moving.”

Jake chuckled as they turned and started into the church. “But aren’t we missing the bride? When do I get to meet this woman who has enticed you to endure all of this?”

“I don’t know, she should have been here by now….” Ted’s words trailed off when he spotted the car pulling up to the curb outside. “There she is. Come on, I want you to meet her.”

Jake followed Ted back outside and across the walk to where two women stepped out of the parked car—one brunette, one blond. In one smooth motion, Ted swept the brunette up in his arms and into his embrace.

“I take it this is the bride,” Jake said when he’d reached the tall blonde standing by the car.

“Either that, or Ted has some explaining to do,” she commented dryly.

A sudden chill had the hair on the back of his neck standing up straight. Something registered in his brain, something so…so peculiar it left him feeling a little unsettled. Turning to the woman beside him, he studied her as he extended a hand.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Jake Hayes.”

“Kristin Carey,” she mumbled, ignoring his hand and slipping a pair of sunglasses over her eyes. “So when is this thing supposed to start?”

He’d admit to having been rebuffed by a woman a time or two in his life, but never quite as resoundingly as that. “According to Minnie Mouse over there,” he said, nodding to the wedding planner, “in five minutes.”

“Minnie Mouse?”

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “Just a joke.” But from the look on her face, she obviously didn’t think it a very funny one.

“Cin,” she said, pushing past him and calling to the woman in Ted’s arms. “I think the wedding planner is trying to get your attention.”

But Ted was already pulling his bride-to-be in their direction.

“Here she is, Jake,” he announced. “This is Cindy.”

“Cindy,” Jake said in a low, formal voice.

Reeling a bit from the rather rude encounter with the icy blonde, he wasn’t sure what kind of reception to expect from Cindy. Should he try to shake her hand, bow or just stand there like a dope? But Cindy didn’t seem to have any doubts. She completely surprised him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Jake, at last!” she gasped, her blue eyes bright and sparkling. “I can’t believe I’m actually talking to Jake! Ted talks about you so much I feel like we’re already friends.”

“Just promise to give me a chance to defend myself,” he said, liking her immediately. “There’s no telling what this guy’s been saying.”

“Oh, it’s all been very complimentary,” Cindy assured him. She slipped an arm through his, shooting Ted a wink. “But I’m depending on you to fill me in on all the secrets.”

“I keep telling her there are no secrets,” Ted insisted. “I’m really a dull guy.”

Jake turned to Cindy. “Well, he is right about that. He is dull—really dull. Which makes me wonder, what do you see in him anyway?”

Cindy laughed. “Anyone who knows me knows I love a challenge. Right, Kristin?”

“The bigger the better.”

There it was again, that curious tickle in the back of his brain. Did he know this woman? Is that why she’d given him the cold shoulder? Only he couldn’t imagine forgetting someone who looked like her. Ms. Kristin Carey may be a bit frosty around the edges, but the fact remained that the tall, slender blonde was probably one of the most striking women he’d ever seen. If they had ever met before, he was sure he would have remembered.

“Jake,” Cindy said then. “This is Kristin, my sister.”

Jake nodded. “Actually, we just introduced ourselves.”

“That’s great,” Cindy said, reaching a hand out to her sister. “Because as best man and maid of honor, you two are going to be spending a lot of time together the next couple of days.”

Jake felt something in the pit of his stomach go tight. “Wonderful.”

“Okay, everyone inside. Time to get started.” They all turned in unison as the wedding planner approached, clapping loudly. “There will be plenty of time for chitchat later. Everybody into the church.”

“It seems the wedding Nazi has spoken,” Ted grumbled, pulling Cindy to him. “And my advice to you is to do what she says.”

Jake watched as Ted and Cindy started arm in arm up the walk. Turning slowly, he gave Kristin a hesitant look. “Shall we?”

“We probably better,” she said as she passed. “Wouldn’t want to keep Minnie Mouse waiting.”

Chapter 2

Kristin stood in the church foyer waiting for her cue. She glanced down at the gaudy tissue-paper bouquet in her hand and steeled herself against a wave of nausea. Of course, tomorrow she would be holding the real thing—a spray of pale pink roses and baby’s breath—and probably feeling even worse.

Her gaze shifted to the long center aisle leading to the altar and she felt her stomach turn again. How was she ever going to make it down that walkway without tripping, fainting or throwing up?

“Just breathe,” she reminded herself aloud, drawing in a deep breath. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t a nervous, fidgety person. She’d always prided herself on the ability to keep a cool head and steady hand. But a stranger had come into her life and changed all that, a stranger who had her edgy and uneasy and seeing danger around every corner.

Wasn’t it supposed to be the bride who got the jitters and the maid of honor who calmed her down?

Kristin turned around, watching her sister as she talked with Ted’s father. With her sparkling eyes and radiant smile, Cindy looked anything but nervous. In fact, Kristin couldn’t remember seeing her sister looking more beautiful, or more serene.

Which was only the way it should be. If there was one person on this planet who deserved to be happy, it was Cindy.

Cindy had barely been out of high school when their parents had died. Not many young women would have welcomed the responsibility of a thirteen-year-old sister, but Cindy had been determined that the two of them stay together. She had worked hard to make a home for them, and later, when Kristin had considered foregoing college because of the financial hardship it represented, Cindy wouldn’t hear of it. She’d insisted Kristin apply for every scholarship available, and what they didn’t cover, the money Cindy earned waiting tables in the evenings after a full day at her job with the Los Angeles Probation Department did.

Which was why Kristin didn’t want to do anything to spoil Cindy’s wedding. One way or another she was going to do this, she had to—for Cindy.

“For Cindy,” she whispered, taking courage from the words.

Her gaze shifted to Jake Hayes as he stood in his position to the left of Ted. Thinking about how rude she’d been to him made her feel queasy all over again. He’d been friendly and pleasant and she’d practically cut him off at the knees.

He was watching the wedding planner, listening to her instructions and moving as she prompted him. He really did seem nice—not that she was surprised. Ted had described him as a good guy. Under normal circumstances she probably would have enjoyed getting to know him. The problem was, these weren’t normal circumstances. Things hadn’t been normal in her life for a very long time. Still, she hadn’t intended to be impolite. It was just that despite all that Ted had said about him, to her he was a stranger, and the grim fact of her life was that strangers terrified her.

“That’s your cue, dear.”

The loud clapping sound had her looking up.

“Hello? Are you listening?”

“Oh, uh, y-yes,” she stammered, feeling her cheeks flush red.

“That’s your cue,” the wedding planner said again. “Start walking now.”

“Y-yes,” she stuttered again. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

Flustered and embarrassed, she clutched the paper bouquet tightly in her hands and took a few hesitant steps forward.

“No, no, no,” the woman said, shaking her head, marching up the aisle toward her. “You’re not trudging through mud. Try and smooth it out a little, dear. Nice and easy.”

Kristin watched as the wedding planner demonstrated, then on stiff, wooden legs, Kristin tried again. She didn’t think her awkward, wobbling gait was any better, but she did the best she could. She felt ridiculous and terribly self-conscious, and without having to look, she could feel Jake’s gaze burning through her, turning the narrow aisle into an endless corridor of embarrassment. It wasn’t until she’d finally reached the end and slipped into her spot alongside the altar that she actually dared to glance up. Almost instantly, Jake’s gaze caught hers and he gave her a broad smile. She nodded stiffly in response, a move that only made her cringe even more.

“Pull yourself together,” she muttered. She was acting as though she’d never been around a man before, clumsy and ungainly.

But when she looked up and caught sight of Cindy as she started down the aisle, she suddenly forgot about being embarrassed or uncomfortable. It was only the wedding rehearsal but her sister looked radiant and Kristin felt her eyes sting with tears. This was Cindy’s time to shine and she was determined nothing was going to get in the way of that—not her problems, not her inhibitions….

Her gaze slid to Jake Hayes.

And certainly not her trouble with strangers.

Jake watched the wedding planner and waited for his cue. It would be all downhill from here on out. The mock ceremony was over and all he had to do now was follow Ted and Cindy back up the aisle and out of the church. Piece of cake. Although with Kristin on his arm he wasn’t expecting it to be particularly pleasant. But she would only have to tolerate him just long enough to make it out of the church. After that, he would be more than happy to stay out of her way.

For the life of him he couldn’t figure out why she seemed to dislike him so much. After all, they were virtually strangers—at least he thought so. She didn’t know him well enough to dislike him. Granted, he wasn’t the most charming guy in the world, but it usually took a woman a little longer to find him annoying.

Of course, his paranoia made him wonder if Kristin’s attitude toward him had anything to do with what had happened three years ago, either with the shootings, the task force or his resignation from the police department. Had someone said something to her about any of it? But common sense told him that wasn’t the case. For whatever reason, the woman had taken an instant dislike to him and he just had to accept it.

When the signal came, he was ready and moved slowly into the aisle. Looking at Kristin as he offered her his arm, he expected to see nothing but ice in those clear brown eyes of hers, so he was taken aback when he didn’t. In fact, her face was full of emotion. Could it be the Ice Queen wasn’t so icy after all?

Her hand on his arm felt warm as they moved together and he could feel the slight brush of her body along his as they walked. He wasn’t sure what had brought about the change in her, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Emotion had a way of softening her beautiful features and frankly he liked the effect.

Still, he had to admit, her transformation had left him feeling a bit unsettled. He wouldn’t have pegged her as the sentimental type. Weddings had a way of getting to people, though. Even he had felt a tug of emotion and this had only been the rehearsal. And it was probably that same sentimentality that had him turning to Kristin and giving conversation another try.

“That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” he whispered as they made their way up the aisle. “And the good news is that we only have to do it one more time.”

“But the bad news is, the next time we’ll be doing it in front of a church full of people,” she pointed out darkly.

“You have a point there,” he acknowledged. Since she hadn’t snapped his head off, he boldly pushed on. “Feeling a little anxious?”

“Only about tripping, fainting or throwing up,” she groaned. “Or any combination of those three.”

“That could be a little embarrassing,” he agreed with good humor. “But you did great this time. There’s no reason to think tomorrow will be any different.”

“No?” She released his arm as they reached the large double doors leading outside and tossed the paper bouquet aside. “Maybe you’d like to try it in four-inch heels and carrying a handful of flowers.”

Just like that it was back—that hard edge, the sharp words—and he was surprised at how disappointed he felt. “Somehow I don’t think they’d go too well with my tux.”

She didn’t so much as blink, let alone crack a smile. She simply turned and left.

He stood in the open doorway and watched as she ran down the steps and across the drive toward Ted and Cindy. He felt strangely winded, as if he’d just taken a punch in the stomach. What was her problem? Was there something actually wrong with her or was she simply incapable of being civil to him?

“You win some, you lose some,” he muttered, doing his best to remain philosophical as he started down the steps.

He really shouldn’t let her attitude bother him. After all, it wasn’t necessary that they like each other. It just would have made the next couple of days a little more pleasant, that’s all. It wasn’t a big deal, certainly nothing he was going to lose any sleep over. It was just that there was something so…what? Familiar? How was that possible? He was certain he had never seen her before today. So why did he have this ridiculous feeling that he knew her, that there was a connection between them?

“You’re frowning.”

Jake glanced up at the sound of Cindy’s voice. She’d broken away from the rest of the wedding party, who had gathered outside the church, and her expression was full of concern. “Was I?”

“Yes, is everything okay? Was there something about the rehearsal you didn’t like?”

“Absolutely not,” he insisted, slipping a reassuring arm around her shoulders. The gesture was unusual for him but there was something vulnerable and soft about Cindy that made it okay.

He thought of Kristin’s hand on his arm, how it had almost felt natural for a moment—but only for a moment. She hadn’t welcomed his touch. In fact, she’d been able to stand it only long enough to get out of the church. How could two sisters be so different?

“Are you sure?”

“It went great and tomorrow it’s going to go even better.” He gestured to the others. “Ask anyone.”

Cindy’s face relaxed. “I hope you’re right.” She breathed out a long sigh, catching Kristin’s eye in the crowd and motioning her over. “I’m just so nervous.”

Jake followed Cindy’s gaze, watching as Kristin made her way toward them. “I think it might run in the family.”

Cindy turned to her sister as she joined them. “Kristin, what if I trip?”

Kristin shrugged. “What if I faint!”

“Oh brother,” Ted said as he approached and immediately reached for Cindy’s hand to pull her to him. “Talk about looking on the dark side. What if everything just happens to turn out fine?”

Cindy looked up at him and sighed again. “You think that’s a possibility?”

“I don’t know, let’s show up tomorrow and find out,” Ted said, placing a kiss on the end of her nose.

Cindy looked at Kristin. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

“Oh what the hell,” Kristin said with a careless wave. “We’ve come this far.” She put a hand on her sister’s arm. “How about we make a deal? I won’t laugh if you trip and you promise to step over me if I faint. What do you say?”

Cindy laughed and patted Kristin’s hand. “It’s a deal.”

“Well, I’m certainly happy we got that settled,” Ted announced dryly. “And Kristin, I should have known that alter ego of yours would come up with a solution.” He glanced down at his wristwatch. “But now we need to get moving. I told my folks we’d meet them at the restaurant.” Turning to the group, he raised his hands. “Okay, everybody, time for free food—follow me!”

It was a long time before Jake had an opportunity to talk to Ted again—long after the rehearsal dinner had ended, long after all the old friends had been greeted and long after all the toasts had been made. The restaurant was nearly empty and most of the wedding party and friends and family had left. As the waiters stacked chairs around them, he and Ted sat alone at a table, watching while Cindy, Kristin and the small group that remained played a lively game of darts in the lounge.

Jake felt exhausted, but it was a good kind of fatigue. He’d been concerned about seeing everyone again—friends, family—about how they would react to him after all this time. But as it was, things had gone fine. Old friends seemed genuinely pleased to see him and it had been good to catch up again. Of course, he’d done his best to keep his distance from Kristin Carey throughout the course of the evening. Although he couldn’t help noticing she didn’t seem to have a problem being friendly to the others at the party.

“You mentioned something back there at the church I was curious about,” he said to Ted as Kristin tossed a dart that missed the board and landed somewhere behind the bar.

“I did?” Ted asked drowsily, taking a sip of his beer.

“Something about Kristin.”

Ted put down his glass and blinked sleepily. “I don’t remember.”

“You said something about an alter ego?” Jake leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Is there…well, you know. Is there something wrong with her? I mean, some kind of weird split-personality thing or something?”

Ted snorted out a laugh. “What? What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Jake insisted, feeling silly now for having brought up the subject. “You’re the one who mentioned an alter ego. What the hell else is that supposed to mean?”

Ted laughed again and took another drink of beer. “Well, you don’t have to worry. There’s nothing wrong with her. I was just referring to…well, she has this job. She doesn’t like to talk about her work, but…well, she’s on the radio—”

Jake felt the hair at the back of his neck stand on end and a strange-sounding tinkle rang in his ears.

“It’s a talk show. Late-night sort of thing,” Ted continued. “Called ‘Lost Loves.’ It’s really very popular and…well, Cindy and I tease her about having an alter ego because she doesn’t use her real name on the program. On the air she’s known as Jane Streeter—Dear Jane.”

Kristin took aim with the dart and let it fly across the room. But instead of sailing into the bristled board, it took a dramatic nosedive and landed snugly in the wooden leg of the bar stool. Covering her mouth with her hand, she grimaced. That one had surprised even her. Behind her, though, the group in the lounge erupted in laughter and cheers.

“I meant to do that,” she deadpanned as she turned around, which only brought a barrage of hoots and whistles.

“Good form though,” Cindy shouted over the noise. “And I don’t think there’s a person here who could have done that if they tried.”

“I stink,” she stated flatly, reaching for her wineglass.

Cindy paused for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, you do.” She leaned close, slipping an arm around her shoulders. “But I love you anyway, little sister.”

Kristin smiled. “And I think you’re a little tipsy.”

“Me?” Cindy gasped dramatically, then shook her head. “Naw.”

“Karaoke time!”

They both turned as Cindy’s longtime friend, co-worker and bridesmaid, Dana Byrd, came rushing up.

“Come on, Cin, get up here,” she said, grabbing Cindy by the hand and pulling her to her feet.

“What? No! No, no,” Cindy protested, shaking her head. “I can’t sing.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not a requirement,” Dana assured her as the rest of the group began clapping and chanting: “Cin-dy, Cin-dy, Cin-dy!”

“Kristin, help,” Cindy pleaded as Dana dragged her off. “Don’t let them do this.”

“What can I do?” Kristin asked, tossing her hands up in a helpless gesture. “Your public won’t take no for an answer.” As Dana pulled Cindy farther away, she raised her voice to be heard over the din. “But don’t worry about embarrassing the family. I’ve already taken care of that.”

Kristin had to laugh as she watched Cindy stumble her way through a popular song. Her sister hadn’t lied about the singing, she really was awful! But her sour notes only had everyone laughing that much harder and soon the whole room was singing along.

All in all, it had turned out to be quite an evening and Kristin had to admit she’d enjoyed herself. She hadn’t exactly been dreading the event, but she had been concerned. Given all the chaos going on in her life the past several months, she’d had some serious doubts she would be able to enjoy anything anymore. But there was something about the raucous group, the camaraderie, the laughing and the loud music that managed to block out her concerns and she welcomed the respite.

It had been a long time since she’d felt this comfortable in a public place. Granted, her exposure was somewhat limited. She was hardly alone. The wedding party had all but taken over the small restaurant. And besides, with all of Cindy’s friends from the probation department and Ted’s friends from the police force, how much safer could she have been?

Her gaze shifted across the room to Jake Hayes. He was the only stranger and the only one there who made her uneasy. However, the reason he made her feel uncomfortable had nothing to do with the fact that he was a stranger.

She thought about her awkward performance at the wedding rehearsal and cringed. Why had she acted like that—so cold and unfriendly? And why was she so awkward? It wasn’t as though she’d never caught a man’s attention before. She’d dated often in college and would even go so far as to say she may have fallen in love a time or two, or at the very least, experienced several episodes of very ardent “like.”

Of course that had been before she’d realized just how vulnerable love made a woman, before she’d learned how emotions could be used against you. That had been before Blake.

So instead of thinking about love, she had decided to focus on a career. It wasn’t as though she’d started out looking for a career in broadcasting. After graduation, her focus had been on establishing a counseling practice and expanding her patient base. When she’d agreed to do a quick guest appearance on a local morning-radio program it had been to promote a new counseling hot line for teens. She wasn’t sure why, but she’d been a natural behind the microphone and soon calls began coming in to the station for her. Dear Jane and “Lost Loves” had grown from there. It had all happened so fast she really hadn’t thought about where the show was going or what the potential was—that is, until Blake Murray came into her life.

It was at a local broadcasters’ awards dinner almost four years ago—her first—and “Lost Loves” had been up for L.A.’s Best Talk Radio. Winning had been a thrill, but meeting Blake had changed her life. Tall, handsome, charming and full of self-confidence, he came at her with both barrels and she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him. They became inseparable from that moment on.

As the manager of a small radio network, Blake had been a strong supporter of her radio show and she’d been thrilled when he’d shown an interest in promoting her career. But even beyond that, he had a way of looking at her that made her feel as though she were the only woman in the world. She had thought it was love she’d seen in his eyes. What a dope! It hadn’t been love—it had been dollar signs.

To Blake, she must have looked like an innocent, ripe for plucking. He’d swept her off her feet with talk of building their life together. Thinking about it now, she honestly couldn’t remember which had come first, the marriage proposal or the partnership proposal.

Blake had been concerned that the local radio network that broadcast “Lost Loves” wasn’t doing enough for her, that they were taking advantage of her and holding her back. She needed someone to look out for her interests, to steer her career in the right direction, someone who cared about her, who had her best interests at heart. He had told her she deserved the best and he was going to see to it that she got it.

Kristin shook her head. How foolish she had been. She realized hindsight was always twenty-twenty, but how could she have ignored all the warning signs? How could she have let herself be taken in?

Only she knew why. That was what love did to her—it made her blind and stupid and made her forget all about common sense. That was a lesson she’d had to learn the hard way. Back then she’d been too starry-eyed, too much in love to see what was so painfully obvious now.

Even though she knew things were moving fast, she’d accepted when he’d asked her to marry him. It was only by coincidence that she’d stumbled across those papers on his desk, those papers dated weeks before they’d even met, papers outlining his plan to negotiate a merger with a national radio network. Of course, the merger was dependent upon him acquiring control over “Lost Loves” and control over Jane Streeter and her career.

She shuddered. It had been a lie from the very beginning—the romance, the relationship, the proposal. He’d set her up and she’d never seen it coming. Like a fool she’d trusted him, believed him when he said he loved her, when he said he wanted to help. But Blake’s idea of helping her had been helping himself. He had set his sights high, and Jane Streeter and “Lost Loves” had been his ticket to the big time.

It hadn’t exactly been her finest moment. The truth had been a shock, but she had needed a lightning bolt like that to shock her back to her senses. She had allowed her feelings to blind her to the truth and she should have known better. It had been a bitter pill to swallow to find out that the man she loved had cared more about what she could do for him than he did about her. But somehow she’d gotten through it. It had been a painful lesson, but one she would never forget. She wasn’t the kind of woman who could fall in love; it was simply too dangerous. It made her lose too much of herself, made her defenseless and left her too vulnerable. Love was just too risky for her. She would never allow her heart to rule her head again.

She took another sip of wine and watched her sister, feeling a swell of emotion in her chest. Cindy had warned her it wasn’t fair to swear off all involvements simply because of one failed relationship, and maybe she was right. Maybe the day would come when she would feel safe enough or confident enough to take a stab at love again. But that time hadn’t come yet and as Dear Jane, she had listened to so many sad stories she wasn’t sure it ever would.

“Care to make a request?”

Kristin stirred herself from the unpleasant memories and looked up, surprised to see that Ted and Jake had moved from the restaurant into the lounge.

“You’re going to serenade us?” she asked, smiling up at Ted.

“Not yet, but I think after another couple of beers…” Ted let his words drift, then nodded toward the bar. “What can I bring you?”

Kristin shook her head. “I’ve had my limit.”

“Come on,” he prompted with an impatient wave of his hand.

“I don’t dare,” she confessed. “Another drink and I just might want to try my luck at darts again.”

Ted’s hand shifted to a gesture of surrender. “Enough said.” Turning to Jake, he raised an eyebrow in question. “Best buddy, name your poison.”

“Designated driver, remember?” Jake said, lifting his glass. “I’ve been on mineral water for the last two hours.”

Ted shuddered. “I don’t see how you can drink that stuff.”

“Hey, I’m not going to risk getting pulled over,” Jake told him, giving him a sly look. “You know what those L.A. cops are like.”

Ted considered this for a moment, then spun around and shouted to the bartender. “Another mineral water for my friend here.”

“Do you mind if I sit down?” Jake asked.

When Kristin looked up, Jake was smiling at her and she felt herself becoming stupidly awkward. “Oh, s-sure.”

“Turned out to be quite a party,” he said, gesturing to the group and Ted weaving his way toward the karaoke stage.

“Quite a party,” she agreed. Just then Cindy and Dana broke into another song. “And quite loud too.”

He nodded and took another sip of water. It was really too loud for conversation, which was fine with her. She wasn’t sure what to say to him anyway. She’d been so rude earlier she was a little surprised he was willing to speak to her at all.

It took a little concentration but she forced herself to focus on Cindy and Dana as they mugged it up onstage, but there wasn’t a moment she wasn’t aware of Jake beside her. She knew every time he took a drink, every time he laughed, every time he turned to look at her.

Why was she so supersensitive where he was concerned? He was a longtime friend of Ted’s so it was obvious he wasn’t the type of stranger she needed to be wary of. So why not relax and just enjoy herself? He was another member of the wedding party—no more, no less.

But when she glanced at him as Ted stepped up onstage and joined Cindy and Dana in their song, he was smiling at her and she felt her heart leap to her throat.

“If it even looks like they’re coming anywhere close with that microphone,” he said in a loud voice, talking over the noise, “I’m making a break for the door.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” she called back.

He smiled at her and she felt her throat close off again. She quickly turned away in an effort to avoid the danger of any further conversation. She concentrated instead on Ted and Cindy as they entertained everyone with their best Sonny and Cher impersonation while murdering the song “I Got You Babe!”

Despite all the laughter and good feelings, Kristin felt herself becoming angry and frustrated. He was there. Him. That nameless, faceless stranger who had stolen her freedom, and it just wasn’t right. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. This should be one of the happiest times in her life. Her only sister was getting married. Cindy had found the man she loved and they were beginning a wonderful life together. Nothing should be more important and nothing should get in the way. Yet, there was something—someone who threatened to take center stage. The poison that touched her life touched theirs as well, and made her the angriest of all.

From her peripheral vision she was aware when Jake turned and looked at her, and felt a surge of frustration. How much longer was this going to go on? How much longer was she going to greet every new man she met as if he were him, as if he were the stranger who knew her only as Jane Streeter, who had muscled his way into her life and made it a living nightmare?

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