“I’m still not sure why you came to me about the pregnancy, Sierra. I’m not sure what you want.”

Sierra was afraid to admit what she wanted. She was afraid to admit that making love with Ben Barclay had wiped away everything that had gone before. Had made her lose herself. Had encouraged her to dream again.

“I told you because you had a right to know. If you want to walk away, that’s fine. I’ll raise this baby on my own.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Ben assured her. “I intend to be a full-fledged father. We’ll figure this out, Sierra. It will just take some time.”

Figure out how involved they were going to be in each other’s lives? Figure out if he wanted to be involved in the pregnancy?

Figure out if one night could have been filled with more than desire?

Karen Rose Smith has seen more than sixty novels published since 1991. Living in Pennsylvania with her husband—who was her college sweetheart—and their two cats, she has been writing full-time since the start of her career. Lately, in addition to writing, she has been crafting jewellery with her husband. She finds designing necklaces and bracelets relaxing enough to let her mind weave plots while she’s beading! Readers can receive updates and excerpts for Karen’s latest releases and write to her through her website at www.karenrosesmith.com, or send mail to PO Box 1545, Hanover, PA 17331, USA.

The Daddy Verdict

By

Karen Rose Smith

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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To my father, Angelo Jacob Cacciola,

who taught me how to build model ships

and play blackjack.

I miss you, Daddy.

Chapter One

“I only came here today because…because I’m pregnant.” Sierra Girard’s blue eyes were wide and vulnerable as her words echoed in Ben Barclay’s office.

One thought flashed through his mind—they hadn’t used a condom. That oversight had been a first for him.

“Why did you leave without a word?” he asked, feeling as if she’d punched him in the gut with her announcement. Six weeks ago they’d met at a party and had ended up spending the night together…well, most of a night.

Her wavy brown hair fell across her shoulder as she looked down at the purse in her hands, then back up at him. “I left in the middle of the night because we got caught up in the heat of the moment. Because neither of us was looking for what happened. You told me your work was your life…that your job as assistant district attorney took all of your waking hours and many of your sleeping ones.”

Pregnant. Sierra was pregnant! Ben was suddenly angry at himself and angry with her.

His expression must have shown some of what he was feeling because she murmured, “I never should have come.” Turning, she left his office, slipping quickly into the hall.

Instinct made him move like lightning. He grasped her arm.

They both froze, startled once more by the electricity that had drawn them together.

Finally Sierra pulled from his hold. “This isn’t your problem. It’s mine. I just thought you might like to know.”

He and Sierra had started talking at the engagement party of mutual friends. That night her smile had curved around his cynical defenses, breaking down barriers that had been cemented in place for years. Desire had exploded, burning away common sense. After they’d had sex, work exhaustion had caught up to him. He’d fallen asleep…and she’d disappeared.

A colleague walked down the hall and tossed Ben a quizzical look.

“Come back inside,” Ben suggested, purposefully keeping his tone calm.

When Sierra hesitated, he added, “You’re not going to pull a vanishing act on me again.”

“You could have gotten my number from Camille or Miguel if you wanted to reach me,” she chided softly.

Had she wanted him to search her out?

Why would he want to pursue a woman who’d left without a word or a note? Why would he want to pursue a woman, period? They all left. He knew that too well. His mother had deserted his father, along with him and his two brothers. And after Ben had hit thirty and decided coming home to a woman would be better than returning to an empty apartment, he’d started dating Lois. However, a year and a half later, she’d broken off their relationship because he was too dedicated to his work. She’d been seeing someone else at the public relations firm where she worked while he was working! “Love” only had meaning to him in how it related to family. There was no such thing as happily ever after or vows that lasted forever.

Intrigued by Sierra as he had been since they’d met, he asked, “Did you leave that night so I’d chase you?”

“No,” she protested so quickly he almost believed her. Then she went on, “I don’t tumble into bed with a man every time I go to an engagement party. That night—”

She stopped to gather words that seemed to elude her. “I’d never done anything like that before! I was confused afterward. When you didn’t bother to get my number and call, I knew you weren’t interested.”

Sierra Girard was so beautiful in an innocent, twenty-four-year-old kind of way. He was only thirty-five, but the eleven years’ difference seemed more like thirty to him right now. He’d seen things she couldn’t imagine in her worst nightmares. The folders on his desk were full of pictures he hoped she’d never see.

“Why did you really leave the hotel room that night?”

“I thought I was doing the best thing for both of us,” she replied with what sounded like sincerity. “That way we didn’t have to be embarrassed or awkward, or figure out how to say goodbye.”

“Do you always run from awkward situations?” He really didn’t know much about her. Just that she and Camille were good-enough friends for her to be Camille’s maid of honor.

At Sierra’s pointed silence, Ben raked his hand through his black hair, deciding to let that question go so he could ask something more pertinent. “Have you seen a doctor?”

“Yes, I have.”

“What are you going to do about the pregnancy?”

Where before Sierra had seemed almost pale to him, her cheeks took on color now. “I will not get an abortion.”

“I’m not asking you to consider it.” He took a step closer to her, then wished he hadn’t because he inhaled her rose-scented perfume. It had driven him crazy at the party the whole time they’d talked, as well as the whole time they’d been naked together. “I just want to know if you can be sure this child is mine.”

“It’s your baby,” she replied quietly. At his silence, she asked, “You don’t believe me?”

His poker face must not have been as neutral as he thought. He was short on trust these days, especially where women were concerned, and it must have showed.

“Okay, Ben.” Fumbling with the catch on her purse, Sierra reached inside and pulled out a business card. “Here. Now you have my number and the address of my shop. Our baby is due at the end of May. Give me a call if you want to be involved in being a parent. If not, I understand.”

Before he could take a breath, Sierra hurried into the hall, her sandals clicking on the tile.

As he watched the sway of her hair across her back, the loose folds of her gauzy dress swinging around her legs, he knew he should call after her…go after her…bring her back to his office until they settled something. But he didn’t do any of those things. As one of the most level-headed, steadiest assistant district attorneys in Albuquerque’s violent crimes unit, he was shocked to realize he was shaken to his core.

He was going to be a dad!

He had to figure out a plan of action before he talked to Sierra again. He had to figure out if she was sincere, or if she might be trying to use him because she wanted monetary support for a child that might not even be his.

The phone on his desk rang.

Knowing Sierra had probably reached the elevator by now, Ben hurried to pick up the receiver, not at all sure tackling this situation with her would be any easier than prosecuting his hardest case.

Sierra gripped the phone Saturday afternoon as she waited for her aunt’s reaction.

“So you told him yesterday and he said…” Gina Ruiz prompted her niece from across the globe.

Sierra paced back and forth behind the counter of her shop, Beaded for You, on the outskirts of Old Town, Albuquerque. Her aunt Gina was questioning her with the fierce protectiveness of a mother. Her aunt had been more of a parent than either of her parents ever had, and Sierra loved her for it.

“He was…shocked.”

“I suppose that’s good. That means something like this doesn’t happen to him every day.”

In spite of Sierra’s queasy stomach, which always seemed to become unsettled midafternoon, she had to smile. “I should hope not. I never would have ended up in bed with him if I’d thought—”

She stopped, realizing what she had just said. This was her aunt, for goodness sake, not Camille.

“What happened, Sierra? This kind of thing isn’t like you at all. You told me Ben Barclay is going to be Miguel’s best man, but you don’t really know him, do you? Did he take advantage of you in some way? Put something in your drink? Did you have too many glasses of wine to celebrate Camille and Miguel’s engagement?”

Sierra remembered her first glimpse of Ben at the party. Oh, he was handsome all right, with black hair, thick brows, defined cheekbones and a jaw that looked very stern, except when he smiled. When his gray eyes had held hers for a long moment across the room, she’d felt…breathless, and had been unsettled by the tingles that had danced down her spine. With good reason. She didn’t date because the memories of her fiancé and the selflessness that had gotten him killed were still too fresh at times.

But, as Sierra knew, fate wasn’t something you could control. After she and Ben had been introduced, they’d begun a conversation about his work, about her shop. The room had gotten very noisy. She’d sensed he liked quiet as much as she did when he’d invited her to his room. She’d never expected their conversation would lead to bed.

“Sierra?”

“Aunt Gina, he was the perfect gentleman. I mean, it was both of us. It just happened. I’m not sure why or how. It just did.”

“Do you want me to come home?”

Sierra’s mother and father were anthropologists who traveled the world. Although they’d kept her with them when she was small, she’d always known she was secondary to whatever they shared, including their work. Her mother found nannies and teachers for her and often brought her back to New Mexico to spend weeks or months with her aunt.

Sierra had always felt extraneous. Once on a visit home, she’d heard her parents arguing with her aunt, her mother’s sister, about her need for normal high school years, a chance to socialize with children her own age and make bonds that would last longer than six months or a year. When Aunt Gina had invited Sierra to live with her for her four years of high school, Sierra had accepted joyfully, and would always be filled with gratitude for that time of her life.

Now her aunt was in Greece, a trip she had planned for most of her adult life. Sierra wasn’t going to make her cut it short.

“There’s no need for you to come home. Honestly, I’m fine. I really am. Camille and Miguel are here and so are other friends. I’ll be busy with Camille’s wedding next weekend.”

“But who will look after you when they’re away? What if you have a problem?”

“I can look after myself. My doctor’s a phone call away. Honestly, Aunt Gina, please don’t worry.”

The security bell dinged as her shop door opened. Ben Barclay walked in!

“Aunt Gina, Ben just came in. I have to go.”

“Don’t let him make decisions for you,” her aunt warned.

“I won’t.”

“Call me again soon.”

“I will. I love you,” she murmured into the cell phone, and after her aunt returned the sentiment, Sierra closed it.

With the brilliant New Mexico sun behind Ben, he stood in shadow until he approached the counter. His gaze assessed the space quickly—the glass cases filled with beaded jewelry created of lapis and tiger eye, turquoise and Venetian glass. She couldn’t tell from his expression what he thought, but she’d already learned that was normal for an encounter with Ben. Dressed in black cargo pants and a rust-and-black Henley shirt, he looked every bit as handsome as he had in his suit. She couldn’t keep other pictures from clicking through her mind—broad bare shoulders, curling black chest hair, powerful muscles…

Sierra warned herself not to expect anything from him. There was an edge to him that she suspected came from his work—all-encompassing work, like her fiancé’s had been. Travis had been a doctor, and his vocation had been to save lives. Ben saved lives, too, in a different way. He put the bad guys away so they couldn’t hurt anyone again. But his work had been another reason she’d left his room so quickly that night. Right or wrong, dedicated men didn’t put the people they loved first.

Ben approached the sales counter where she stood. “At the party you told me you make jewelry. Which are yours?” He was obviously starting with soft conversation before they delved into the tough stuff.

“I made all of it. At least when I get insomnia, I have something to do,” she joked, though it was hard to come up with a smile, wondering why he’d come and what he would say.

Ben’s gray eyes took in everything about her, from her turquoise blouse to her brown gaucho pants. They came back to rest on her necklace, the long dangle of beads that rested between the plackets of her blouse. “Did you make that?”

His gaze on her melted her insides as she nodded. When he’d made love to her, nothing had existed except the two of them.

His thumb ran over a turquoise nugget, then the round coral beads beneath it. “You’re a talented woman.”

“I just have a knack for putting together colors and shapes.”

Dropping the dangle as if it were suddenly too hot to handle, he said, “I want to be part of my baby’s life…if this child is my baby.”

In some ways she knew life would be easier and less complicated if she parented their child alone. Still, she answered, “It is.”

He scrutinized her for a long moment. “We’ll have a DNA test done after the baby’s born. But until then, I want to know what’s happening. Do you need financial assistance?”

His jaw had set after he asked the question, and Sierra wondered if he believed she was just after money. “I don’t need help.”

“Do you have insurance?”

“Yes, I do. I didn’t come to you because I wanted anything.”

“You just thought I should know?”

The repetition of her reasoning sounded lame when he said it, but it was the truth. “I have an appointment with my obstetrician Thursday after next. If you’re interested in meeting her, if you have questions…”

She trailed off, feeling they were moving toward an intimacy she wasn’t ready for. And it had nothing to do with having sex. The intimacy involved becoming parents together.

“I have a trial coming up, but if there’s any way I can be at your appointment, I will. Just let me know when and where.”

This was so awkward. She’d never dated much. By the time she’d gone to public high school, the other girls were way ahead of her with their flirting skills. She’d always just wanted to meet someone who would understand her…whom she could understand. Travis had been the one. Even though her aunt had told her she was too young to get seriously involved at twenty, her parents, on the other hand, had told her to follow her heart. She had.

“What are you thinking about?” Ben asked, and she realized memories must have shone in her eyes.

“I was thinking about what brought me here.”

“To Albuquerque?”

“No, not exactly. To age twenty-four, having the shop, meeting you and now getting pregnant.”

He waited for a moment as if to see if she’d say more. But she didn’t. She didn’t know him well enough. She’d been so foolish to let unexpected desire lead her here.

“You said you live with your aunt. Do you have other family in Albuquerque?”

She shook her head. “No. My parents are in Africa right now. And even my aunt—” She stopped, not knowing how many personal details she wanted to give him.

“Your aunt?”

“She’s traveling. She’ll be back in a few weeks.”

“Does she know about the pregnancy?”

“I called her this afternoon. I wanted to tell you first.”

That seemed to give him pause. “How about Camille?”

“If we have any alone time before the wedding, I’ll tell her. But if not, I’ll wait until she returns from her honeymoon.”

“Are you planning to stay overnight at the hacienda after the wedding?”

Miguel Padilla’s parents lived in a hacienda outside of Santa Fe. That’s where the wedding was going to be held, though the reception would be celebrated at the inn where Sierra and Ben had attended the engagement party. “I’ll be staying over. Camille’s mother wants to talk to me about Christmas presents she’d like me to make for her nieces. What about you?”

“I hadn’t decided yet, but now I’m beginning to think it might be a good idea. In fact, we could go together.”

That suggestion urged her to take a deep breath. “Together?”

“We’re going to have decisions to make. Don’t you think it would be a good idea if we got to know each other?”

Sierra really hadn’t thought past telling Ben the news about the pregnancy, simply because she hadn’t known what his reaction would be…or how he’d feel about fatherhood. Maybe the weekend would provide them with a good opportunity to figure out whether or not they could parent together.

When she didn’t answer right away, he frowned. “Look, if that’s too complicated—”

“No. No, it’s not. I just…I hadn’t thought past telling you I was pregnant. I thought you’d want nothing to do with me and the baby.”

“How did you get that impression?”

“Your career takes up most of your time. Besides, this isn’t the kind of responsibility a man takes on willingly.”

“You assumed I wouldn’t be willing.”

“I suppose I did.”

The silence floated around them like the dust motes in the sunlight. Finally, Ben concluded, “Maybe after next weekend we’ll both know each other better.”

There was something about Ben that drew Sierra toward him. It also made her a little afraid. Not physically afraid or anything like that…just afraid because he looked at her with so many questions, as if she wasn’t telling him the truth. He looked at her as if she were on one side of the fence and he was on the other. Maybe her imagination was just going wild and he wasn’t as complicated as she thought he was.

Just as she’d done in his office, he took a card from his pocket and handed it to her. “My cell phone number’s on there. You can always reach me. I’ll give you a call later in the week and we’ll set up a time for Saturday.”

She nodded. As he turned to leave, she called his name. “Ben?”

He faced her once more.

“Thanks for making this a little easier.”

“We’ll see how easy it is once we get deeper into it.” Then he left her shop.

Had she made a mistake agreeing to go to the wedding with him? She could back out, tell him she wanted to drive herself.

But that would be the cowardly thing to do. She wasn’t a coward.

Chapter Two

“Are you ready?” Ben asked in that way he had of appraising Sierra that made her feel turned inside out.

Flustered and nervous after opening her door to him, she asked herself for the umpteenth time why she’d agreed to drive with him to Santa Fe for Camille and Miguel’s wedding. “Sure am. I just have to grab my duffel bag and gown. Come on in.”

Friendly. She’d just be friendly and polite and keep her distance. But that was difficult when excitement tingled through her from studying him in his black polo shirt and khaki slacks.

She stood aside to let him in.

As soon as he stepped into the casita’s small living room, she realized just how hard keeping her distance would be. Tall, fit and broad-shouldered, Ben seemed to take up the entire room.

“This is nice,” he remarked, assessing the space. A tan ceramic-tiled counter separated the appliances from a table for four and a hutch displaying artifacts. The house had an alarm to protect them and other treasures her aunt had gathered over the years.

“It’s been my home as much as any place has,” Sierra admitted.

“You said you lived with your aunt when you attended high school.”

Apparently he’d listened and remembered. “Yes, and since I returned to Albuquerque a few years ago.” She went to the sofa to pick up her garment bag.

“You didn’t say much about where you lived before returning here.”

Avoiding his gaze, she lifted her duffel. “We can talk about that in the car if you want to get going.”

Before she could guess what he was going to do, his hand reached out for her bag. “I’ll take that.”

“I’m stronger than I look,” she joked.

He stood very close, so close she could catch the scent of his aftershave. “I imagine you are. But if you want to lock the door, you’ll need a free hand.”

He was right and one step ahead of her.

Somehow in passing the duffel’s strap to him, their hands brushed. His skin was hot, slightly rough. She remembered exactly how his hands had felt on her skin.

When their gazes collided, neither of them breathed for a moment. But then Ben motioned to the door. “Ladies first.” His expression was unreadable as she set the alarm, then stepped outside.

After he stowed her duffel on the floor in the backseat of his SUV, he hung her gown across from his tuxedo. Sierra had already fastened her seat belt when he climbed in. He stared at her for a few seconds and didn’t start the ignition.

“What?” she asked.

“I’m surprised you don’t have more luggage.”

“We’re just going overnight.”

“Yeah, but with the wedding and all…”

What had he expected? A huge cosmetics case, a suitcase filled with alternate outfits? “I’m a traveler, remember? I’ve learned to pack light.”

“You’re one of the few women on earth who can do that.” He turned the key.

“Actually, my mother is another. That’s one handy trait she taught me.”

After he pulled out onto the street, he drove to the intersection. But at the stoplight, he glanced at her again. “You said your parents were anthropologists and you traveled with them until you came back here to live with your aunt while you were in high school.”

“That’s right.”

“You were an only child?”

“I was.”

“Then why did they let you return here to live during your most formative years? Why didn’t they want to see you go out on your first date, drive your first car, attend a prom?”

Ben might have an edge sometimes—she’d sensed a cynicism about him from the moment she’d met him—but he was much too perceptive, too. Had that talent come from perfecting interrogation skills? Or from trying to read witnesses and criminals?

“My parents are a little unusual.”

“How so?” He turned onto a main street and headed for I-25.

In the past she’d never let anyone but her aunt see how her childhood years had affected her, how lonely she’d been, how the feeling of not being wanted superseded all others. Now that she’d set foot in this conversation, she didn’t know quite how to step out of it.

Sticking to the basics, she explained, “My parents were totally engrossed in their careers.”

“Lots of parents are,” he remarked.

“I suppose so.”

Ben wasn’t going to let that be the end of it. “So how did their preoccupation with their careers affect you?”

“Are you trying to psychoanalyze me?”

Again he tossed her a quick look. “No, just trying to understand your background.”

“Are you going to tell me about yours? I mean, I know you’re from Minnesota, but that’s about it.”

“Are you evading my question?”

She had to remember she was dealing with a lawyer, a man who was used to getting answers. She had the feeling he wouldn’t give up until he did.

After another few moments of hesitation, she agreed, “Yes, lots of parents are engrossed in their careers. That’s true. But to explain my parents’ lives…” She hesitated again.

He waited, expecting her to go on.

She could just clam up, but if they were in this for the long haul, she should give him a hint of what her childhood had been. “You told me your work is demanding and you’re busy even nights and weekends.”

“I did.”

“Well, imagine this. Imagine that you married another A.D.A. whose dedication and work ethic was the same as yours. On top of that, imagine that you worked with her on every case, all day, every day. Then picture your wife having a baby and the two of you still wanting to work every case together and wanting to go back to the way things were before the baby was born.”

He went silent for at least a half mile until they veered off the main road onto the interstate and headed for Santa Fe. Finally, he offered, “If I imagined that scenario, then I’d also imagine a nanny raising the baby, right?”

“Mom and Dad were researchers, so I had lots of nannies.” Usually native women whom she’d come to love and respect. But she’d felt so separated from her mom and dad as they’d interviewed villagers, discussed their theories, written up their findings.

Ben’s mouth tightened. “Where were you born?”

“In France. My father was French and his mother was living then. From the accounts I’ve heard, my parents went there in my mom’s ninth month and we stayed for three months after I was born.”

“And then?”

“Then they went to Africa, then Bali, India and South America.”

“How many languages do you speak?”

“A few.”

“I’ll bet! So what happens in a child’s head when she settles in and then has to move again—someplace strange and foreign where she doesn’t even know the language—and her parents are preoccupied with their careers?”

No matter how she’d tried to be factual and not emotional, Ben had focused on the undercurrent. “I lived in books if I had access to them. When I didn’t, I learned the crafts of the people we lived with.”

“Crafts. You mean like cooking, making clay pots?”

“Basket making, weaving, dying yarn, etching, whittling. You name it, I’ve probably done it.” Definitely wanting to change the topic, she asked, “Are you close to your family?”

“‘Close’ is a relative term, but yes, I think I am. We call one another when we need something. I go home for holidays when I can.”

“The night of Camille and Miguel’s engagement party, you mentioned your dad and going ice fishing with him. What about your mom?”

The silence that invaded the car at Sierra’s question told her more than any words could that Ben’s childhood hadn’t been perfection, either. “She left when I was six.”

“Left your dad?”

“Left my dad, Nathan, Sam, me and Rapid Creek.”

She could tell this wasn’t territory Ben traveled often, either. To push or not to push. If she knew more about his background, she might understand him better, right?

“Where did she go?”

“It’s not important. She just went. Dad wiped her out of our lives. He finally told us she’d died when Nathan went to college.”

“And you didn’t know?” Sierra was absolutely shocked.

“When she left, she didn’t stay in touch.”

Although Ben was obviously trying to keep his tone neutral, she heard bitterness and she stopped asking questions. They’d both shared enough for one session.

It was so much easier to concentrate on the scenery she loved. New Mexico was absolutely her favorite place on earth. No sky seemed as blue, no clouds seemed as close, no cliffs seemed quite as awe-inspiring. From the Sandia Mountains northeast of Albuquerque to the Sangre de Cristos east of Santa Fe, from the piñon pines along the Rio Grande to the sage, coyote fences and adobes, New Mexico made her feel as if she fit here in a way she didn’t fit anywhere else. Maybe it was because her aunt lived here and her aunt had been the one loving, guiding, gentle force for her whole life. Yet her aunt wasn’t the only reason. There was something about the creative spirit here that just enveloped Sierra in loving arms.

Obviously also wanting to end their conversation for now, Ben switched on the CD player. Strings of an acoustic guitar and flute floated into the car. It was the kind of music she liked, too. Did she and Ben have common interests?

She doubted it more and more as the miles passed and he didn’t speak. He seemed to be miles away, and she suspected he wasn’t thinking about the wedding.

Sierra left Ben to his thoughts for the remainder of the drive. She refused to think beyond today. She was going to enjoy her best friend’s wedding and try to find out more about Ben. But something told her finding out more about him might lead her someplace she didn’t want to go. With him beside her in the car, it was hard to escape memories of the night they’d shared. But for now, she had to put them aside. She had to think clearly. She couldn’t let the sight of his strong hands on the steering wheel remind her of how those hands had made her feel.

She was almost relieved when they took the road to the Padilla family’s hacienda. The black, wrought-iron gates were open, welcoming them. A sprawling peach adobe house nestled against the hills while a tiered fountain in the front courtyard bubbled and streamed.

They’d almost reached the protective arch above the door when the heavy oak portal opened and Camille came running out. She embraced Sierra and then saw Ben holding Sierra’s gown and duffel. “What’s this? Did you two come together?”

Before Sierra could answer, Ben replied, “It seemed the practical thing to do.”

“Why, yes, I guess it would be practical,” Camille agreed, her dark eyes sparkling with curiosity as she arched a brow at Sierra, and her black hair blew in the fall breeze.

As they all stepped inside the foyer, Ben said, “I can just drop this all in Sierra’s room. Which one is hers?”

“Upstairs, second door on the right.”

After Ben headed that way, Camille looked at her friend. “What haven’t you told me?”

Sierra felt her cheeks warm. “We’ll have to talk when you have some time.”

“I’ll make the time,” Camille assured her.

“Sure, you will. In between saying your vows, dancing your wedding dance and leaving for your honeymoon.”

“Sierra, how nice to see you again!” Camille’s mother, Maria, greeted her as she joined them. “You look beautiful, as always. But I’m going to have to steal my daughter away now. It’s time for her to get dressed.”

“Mom, I have plenty of time.”

“Not as much as you think. Sierra, once you’re dressed, come down to the master suite. That’s where Camille will be. Mrs. Padilla and I will be helping her get ready there.”

Camille rolled her eyes and murmured to Sierra, “This is a tradition of some kind.”

“Traditions are good,” Sierra tossed back with a smile, knowing she was going to begin lots of traditions for the child she carried…so many her son or daughter wouldn’t be able to count them all.

She gave Camille a hug. “Go on. Make yourself beautiful for your husband-to-be. I’ll see you in a little while.”

As Sierra wound her way through the living room to the stairway that led to the second floor, she found Ben just mounting the steps.

“I got waylaid by Miguel—last-minute instructions,” he explained.

“Anything I should know about?”

“I don’t think so. Apparently there was a glitch and the wedding arch just arrived. But it’s set up now and all the chairs are in place. He said there are enough flowers to open his own shop.”

Sierra laughed. “Camille loves flowers, especially jasmine and gardenias.”

“That’s what’s there.”

As they walked up the beautiful oak stairs, the scent of lemon oil permeated the space. Ben asked, “What’s your favorite flower?”

She looked over her shoulder at him. “I’m partial to roses, especially pale pink ones.”

“You wear the scent of roses.” He reached the landing a step behind her.

“You noticed!”

Beside her now on the second floor, he gazed into her eyes and admitted, “I noticed a lot about you, Sierra. That’s how we ended up in bed together.”

Her cheeks began to burn. Apparently Ben said exactly what was on his mind. She turned toward the second door on the right.

After she stepped over the threshold into the guest room, she appreciated the white iron bedstead, carved oak furniture, beautiful lace curtains and colorful rugs on the floor.

Ben lifted the dress. “Where do you want this?”

She took it from him, opened the closet and hung it inside. “I might have to touch it up with an iron.”

He carried her duffel bag to the bed and set it on the mattress. His gaze lingered on the bed and hers did, too.

They looked up at the same time and their eyes locked.

As if she’d stepped into a time machine, Sierra was tossed back seven weeks. The room was Ben’s room at the inn, the bed was Ben’s bed. They’d sat on the edge of it, talking, and then the talking had turned into kissing.

They’d undressed each other hungrily. They’d come together so passionately, thought had fled. Good sense had gotten buried and only desire had mattered. Although they’d been eager, Ben hadn’t rushed with her. He’d made sure she was as hot and needy as he was. And when he’d entered her, he’d blotted out the rest of the world.

But then she’d awakened, knowing he’d have regrets and so would she. So she’d left.

Not removing his gaze from hers, Ben approached her slowly.

Her mouth suddenly seemed very dry.

“When you left in the middle of the night, you knew we’d see each other again today.”

“Yes, I did.”

“How were you going to play that? How were you going to act?”

“If you hadn’t contacted me, I would have pretended that night never happened. How about you?”

“I don’t think I could have pretended it never happened. I would have asked you why you didn’t stay.”

“It was a mistake.”

“You decided that for me, too?” There was a hard edge to his voice, as if he didn’t like that idea at all.

“If it hadn’t been a mistake, you would have called.”

“Women,” Ben said, shaking his head. “You left, but I was supposed to call?”

“It really doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”

“I think maybe it does. I want to know the real reason why you left. The truth, Sierra. Not just something you think I might want to hear.”

Could she tell him the truth? His turbulent gray eyes told her that she’d better or he’d never believe another thing she said. She swallowed hard. “You scared me.”

That completely shocked him. “Did I hurt you in some way?”

“No,” she quickly replied. “No, you didn’t hurt me. I guess I said that wrong. You didn’t scare me. Your intensity scared me because I responded to it. I…that was the first time for me in a long time. I didn’t think I was ready. I didn’t think I could—I’m not putting this very well. It was just very unnerving for me. I didn’t know how to deal with it so I left.”

His gray gaze was penetrating, as if he wanted to turn her inside out…see to the very bottom of her soul. Finally he admitted, “I don’t trust easily, Sierra. I’m still not sure why you came to me about the pregnancy. I’m still not sure what you want.”

She was afraid to admit what she wanted. She was afraid to admit that making love with Ben Barclay had wiped away everything that had gone before, had made her lose herself, had encouraged her to dream again.

Although she wanted to turn away, lessen the strong vibrations that shook her when she was around him, she looked right into his eyes. “I meant it when I said I don’t want anything from you. I told you because you had a right to know. What you want to do about it is your choice. If you want to walk away after today, that’s fine. I’ll raise this baby on my own.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he assured her. “Once I know this baby’s mine, I intend to be a full-fledged father.”

“You still don’t believe me?”

When he didn’t reply, she knew the answer. He’d just told her he didn’t trust easily and that was absolutely the truth.

Reaching out, he grazed her cheek with the back of his hand. “We’ll figure this out, Sierra. It will just take some time.”

Figure out how involved they were going to be in each other’s lives? Figure out if he wanted to be involved in the pregnancy? Figure out if one night could have been filled with more than desire? The reasons why she’d left that night still held. She didn’t know if she was ready for another intimate relationship, especially with a man like Ben, a man dedicated to a career that was all-important to him. She had to remember that before she took another step toward him, before she let him take a step toward her.

She backed away. “I’d better get ready.”

He nodded. “My tuxedo’s still in the car.” He crossed to the door. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”

When Ben closed the door behind him, Sierra sank onto the bed. All she had to do was think about Camille and Miguel and the next few hours would be easy.

If she said that often enough, she might believe it.

Ben shrugged into his tuxedo jacket, then checked his pocket for the wedding ring. He heard the floorboards creak in the room next door. Was Sierra styling her hair? Applying makeup? Slipping into her gown? All too easily he could recall exactly what she’d looked like naked and become aroused by the picture.

Damn! How could she possibly be as innocent as she looked? Was he really supposed to believe she wanted nothing from him?

He thought of his mother leaving his father all those years ago, and his father’s bitterness and unhappiness after she left. His brothers’ sadness. His own feeling that he’d done something wrong to make her leave. Weren’t mothers supposed to love their children no matter what?

He heard the water running in Sierra’s bathroom, then it was quickly shut off. He could picture her applying lipstick to her full lips or brushing her luxurious hair.

Intentionally, he thought about Lois, the woman he’d thought he’d marry some day. She’d been beautiful in a much more sophisticated way than Sierra. She’d been a professional woman, serious about her career in public relations. He’d thought she’d understand working early, working late, working weekends. Before she’d left, before she’d told him she’d already found someone else, she’d said something he hadn’t been able to forget. “I still feel alone, even when I’m in the same room with you, Ben.”

He wasn’t sure exactly what that had meant.

Instead of focusing on a past that couldn’t be changed or Sierra, who unsettled him more than he wanted to admit, he turned his attention to another situation that had preoccupied his thoughts.

Last night after a basketball workout with the teenagers he’d befriended, he’d approached his car in the public parking lot. The hairs on the back of his neck had twitched. He always paid attention to that feeling. Although years before he’d earned a black belt in karate, his skills had gotten rusty with disuse. Last night he’d reached into his jeans pocket for his pocketknife, flipped it open and kept his hand by his side. Then he’d heard, “Hey, Mr. District Attorney.”

A man had suddenly appeared from behind a truck. Although he’d been of average height with lank brown hair and a too-large black shirt hanging over worn jeans, a memory had flickered in Ben’s brain.

“I have fifty dollars in cash and one credit card,” Ben had said reasonably, his thumb securing a firm place on the knife handle.

“I don’t want your money,” the man had declared. “I want you to lay off my brother. He’s innocent.”

“Who’s your brother?” Ben had asked to gain time.

“Charlie Levsin. If you don’t back off, something could happen to you.”

Ben had considered the death threat he’d received in August. It had come in with his mail in a plain white envelope, one sheet of paper printed on a computer. You are going to die. Although he’d received death threats before, this time his boss had suggested he leave town for a few days and he had, to help his brother Sam lay floors in his new house. There had been nothing since then.

Levsin’s trial was scheduled for December. Ben had known better than to alienate Levsin’s brother. “Threatening my life could get you in trouble.”

“There ain’t nobody here to hear me. Your word against mine. Just make sure my brother gets off.”

Ben had evidence up the kazoo against Levsin and there was no way he was going to back down. “The jury will decide whether he’s innocent or guilty.”

“Yeah, well, they’d better decide he’s innocent. I mean it, Mr. D.A. You throw that trial or you’ll be sorry.”

As quickly as the man had appeared, he’d disappeared.

If Ben had chased him, caught him and hauled him in, they could have held him for a while. But it would have just been his word against Ben’s.

Ben’s thoughts were interrupted when his phone rang. Plucking it from the dresser, he opened it. When he checked the caller ID, he was relieved to see his brother Nathan’s number.

“You almost caught me at the altar,” Ben joked, pushing away the sound of Levsin’s voice that had played in his head since last night.

It took Nathan a moment to absorb what Ben had said, then he replied, “Sorry. I forgot you were a best man again this weekend.”

“It’s okay. I have a few minutes. I was just checking to make sure I had Miguel’s ring for Camille in my pocket.”

“I remember when you handed me the ring for Sara.”

“No regrets?” Ben asked, really curious.

“Not a one. I’m a lucky man. Who would have thought I’d find another woman who could put up with me?”

Ben laughed. “I think Sara does more than put up with you.”

“You’ve come to accept her.”

“Yeah, almost like a sister. She’s a straight talker and you know I appreciate that.”

“What about Corrie? Sam mentioned he thought the two of you got along really well when you flew home to help us lay floors in his new house.”

His brother Sam was a newlywed, too. “I like Corrie. She’s not quite as open and free as Sara, but anyone who loves animals like Sam does has a good heart. She’s pretty honest about what she thinks, too.”

“Women these days are like that.”

Ben thought about Sierra…their news. He didn’t keep secrets from his brothers. Well, that wasn’t completely true. He hadn’t told them about the death threat. He wouldn’t, either. Yet that was different. “My life got a little more complicated recently.”

“Work?” Nathan asked.

“Not this time. I…uh…” He suddenly felt tongue-tied. “I found out I’m going to be a father.”

The silence told Ben that Nathan was thinking how best to respond. Finally his brother asked, “Are congratulations in order?”

“You mean, am I happy about it? I’m still trying to get used to the idea. But the more I think about it, yeah, I think I’m happy about it. You know how I love spending time with Kyle.” His nephew was one of his favorite people.

“So you’re involved with someone?”

“Not exactly.”

“You’d better explain that.”

Ben blew out a sigh. He had to admit his stupidity to his brother. “I messed up. First time ever. Remember the engagement party I told you about?”

“The one in Santa Fe, where Miguel asked you to be best man.”

“Yeah. Well, Camille’s maid of honor and I started talking. One thing led to another, and she’s pregnant.”

“You’ve been dating her since the party? You didn’t say a word.”

“No, I haven’t been dating her. After that night, she left. I just figured it was a night she didn’t want to repeat. But she turned up at my office to give me the news.”

“So she’s there with you this weekend?”

“We decided to come together. I mean, we drove together. We’re here separately. Nothing’s going to happen.”

Nathan was quiet, then replied wryly, “Something already did. You advised both me and Sam to be careful about custody issues. Is it going to be a problem for you?”

“I don’t know yet. I don’t know Sierra that well. That’s partially why I suggested we come together this weekend.”

“Does she want the baby?”

“She seems to and said she wouldn’t consider an abortion.”

“You know a good custody lawyer?”

“Sure do. I hope it’s not going to come to that. Sierra hasn’t had roots. Her parents are anthropologists and move around a lot. On one hand, she could just take off and join them anytime. On the other hand, her aunt’s here and so is her shop. Sara would love the handmade jewelry.”

“Maybe Sara will get a chance to see it. That’s actually why I called. How would you like some company for Thanksgiving?”

“What brought this on?”

“Well, you know Sara and I have applied to adopt. Something could come through at any time. Once we have another child, traveling could be more difficult. Kyle wants to see those petroglyphs you tell him about whenever you visit. So we thought this might be a good time to take a trip. How do you feel about that?”

“I’m swamped at work and I didn’t know if I could fly out for Thanksgiving. So, yeah, it would be great. Dad won’t mind?”

“Nah. He and Val will spend it with Sam and Corrie and her dad. By Thanksgiving, there will hopefully be a baby to hold.”

Corrie’s due date was November 11. But with a first baby, Ben knew anything could happen. “If you fly out for Thanksgiving, you can give me your opinion of Sierra.”

“Does my opinion matter?”

“Sure it does. I checked out Sara before you got involved.”

“Yes, I guess you did.”

“I haven’t figured out Sierra yet. She says she doesn’t want anything from me. She says she can raise this child alone. But that’s not going to happen.”

“Just be careful, Ben, especially if you want to be a dad.”

“I’ll be careful. Remember, I know the ins and outs of the law.”

A few minutes later after Ben said goodbye to his brother, he pocketed his phone. Then he went downstairs to find Miguel, eager to see Sierra walk down the aisle. Weddings seemed to bring out both the best and the worst in people since they were highly emotionally charged events. He’d be watching Sierra carefully throughout the day, to see if she was the sincere woman she seemed to be. Actions always spoke louder than words.

Then he would decide exactly what he was going to do about the custody issue.

Chapter Three

Ben felt poleaxed as Sierra walked down the aisle toward him. He stood beside Miguel to the left side of the arch waiting for the main event—the bride marching down the aisle with her father. But first, her maid of honor prepared the way.

Sierra’s gown had been encased in a garment bag so he’d had no idea what it would look like. He’d never quite expected this. The turquoise fabric was filmy and floaty. The expression on her face got to him. She was thoroughly happy for her friends. He caught the sheen of tears in her eyes as she gripped her bouquet tighter.

They hadn’t rehearsed since only two of them were in the wedding party, but Miguel had told Ben what to do. He walked to the center of the aisle to meet Sierra and let her hook her arm into his as he escorted her to the right side of the arch. She held on to him as if the moment might be too emotion-filled for her to handle alone. But then she released him, stepped away, independent and so very beautiful. He could only stare at her for a moment before he once more took his place beside Miguel.

Tearing his attention from Sierra, he heard the swell of music created by the guitars and violins located to the side of the guests, then focused on the bride as she walked up the aisle.

He tapped Miguel’s shoulder. “You’re a lucky man.”

But as Miguel murmured, “I know,” and stepped to meet his bride in the middle of the aisle, Ben’s gaze fell again on Sierra. Their eyes locked and held, but then she looked away to watch Camille’s father hand his daughter to her future husband.

The minister motioned them forward and the ceremony began.

The ceremony, however, didn’t make an impact as Camille handed her bouquet to Sierra, as the couple bowed their heads in prayer, as they exchanged vows and then rings. Ben’s mind whirred with future pictures of Sierra as a mother with a newborn in her arms, rocking the baby to sleep, feeding the son or daughter that was a part of him.

But was this baby part of him? Was this child his? He didn’t know Sierra. He didn’t know her morals. He didn’t know if she slept around. Only a DNA test would tell him the truth. Women lied, he knew that. Hadn’t his father told him from his teenage years on that women were selfish, that they did what was best for them, not what was best for their family? His mother had proven that to all of them. Lois, instead of telling him what she wanted and needed, had turned to another man.

He didn’t want to accept the fact that he was an expectant father, only later to be disappointed. Better to stay removed than to care. Better to learn the truth now than later. In his job, he had to constantly separate the truth from lies. He was practiced at discerning the truth and he’d do exactly that with Sierra.

“We’re supposed to mingle,” Ben murmured close to Sierra’s ear as he stood behind her to pull out her chair.

The reception was being held in the same room at the Inn where Camille had introduced Sierra to Ben. Throughout dinner she’d sat beside Camille at the head table while Ben was positioned on the other side next to Miguel. Even so, she was aware of him in a way she’d never been aware of another man—not even Travis. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

As Sierra stood and rounded the table, Ben’s hand rested protectively at the small of her back. The heat of it easily penetrated the chiffon.

They were headed for the table where the bride and groom’s parents sat when a little girl of about five, who was dressed in a pretty pink taffeta dress, chased a boy who must have been her younger brother. The boy dashed around Sierra, but the little girl ran right into her.

“Whoa!” Sierra caught her, steadying them both. She felt Ben’s strong hands steady her.

The girl looked up at Sierra with fearful wide blue eyes, as if she was preparing herself to be scolded.

Sierra just smiled. “Do you think you could slow down a little? If you slip in those pretty shoes, you might fall and get hurt.”

The child poked her finger into her mouth and tentatively smiled back, mumbling, “Okay.”

“What’s your name?” Sierra asked.

“Trisha.”

“Trisha, you look almost as pretty as the bride today. Were you chasing your brother?”

Trisha nodded again. “He wants to play tag.”

“Maybe you could tell him tag would be a better game outside.”

Trisha pointed to the table where the boy had run. A woman who looked to be in her thirties was gesturing to the chair beside her. “Mommy’s probably telling him that.”

“Probably,” Sierra agreed.

“I’ll tell Mommy you said I’m as pretty as Camille.” Trisha quickly walked toward her mom, looking back at Sierra and waving.

Sierra waved back.

Ben tilted his head and studied her. “Have you had much experience with kids?”

“I was one,” she teased.

He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. You don’t have brothers or sisters. You weren’t around family growing up.”

“No, but I did make friends wherever we went. There were two ways to handle each situation when we moved. I could either be on my own so that when we left again, leaving friends behind wouldn’t hurt, or I could just jump right in and get involved, make friends and hope someday we’d see each other again. I jumped in. I didn’t like being lonely.”

Ben looked thoughtful. “Did you see any of your friends again after you moved away?”

“Unfortunately, no. But it was the hope of seeing them again that mattered, and I have a lot of years left to still do it. Who knows? I might return to Brazil or Africa.”

The violinist and guitar players, instead of just playing background music, had launched into a rendition of “Endless Love,” one of Camille’s favorite songs. She and Miguel moved to the middle of the dance floor, ready for their first dance as newlyweds. They looked so happy.

“Next dance we’re going to have to go out there,” Ben reminded her.

The second dance would also be for the parents, Ben and Sierra and any of the guests who wanted to join in. The idea of being held in Ben’s arms again sent a tremble up her spine.

When the love song ended, the instrumentalists began an up-to-date slow melody.

Ben motioned to the dance floor. “Ready?”

She was as ready as she was going to be. She nodded.

He didn’t touch her—she could still recall too vividly the feel of his fingers on her cheek—until they reached the dance floor. He didn’t hesitate then, just opened his arms in the usual ballroom position. She took his hand and laid her arm on his shoulder. His arm went around her and rested lightly on her waist. The room around her with its pale stucco walls and Native American wall hangings faded into nonexistence.

Ben’s cologne was subtle and very masculine. His bolo tie was straight…his shoulders so very wide. The Westerncut jacket fit him perfectly. She wondered about the man inside. What did he really think about her pregnancy? How did he actually feel? When she’d spoken to him the night of the engagement party, she’d known he was a guarded man. That guard covered his emotions.

Sierra could feel Ben’s fingers through the chiffon. Her dress was two pieces, a long flowing jacket with long sleeves, ruffles on the cuffs, and a slip of a dress underneath. Now it seemed almost like a second skin as the dance floor grew more crowded and Ben pulled her a little closer. She looked up and became immobilized by his stormy gray eyes.

She almost tripped when they moved, and he caught her even tighter. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” This near, she couldn’t help thinking about their bodies joining seven weeks ago.

He must have been thinking about it, too, because he said, “I want you to understand something, Sierra. What happened at the engagement party wasn’t an everyday happening for me, either. I have never slept with a woman without protection before.” His voice was low, his face close to hers.

“Even when you’re in a relationship?”

His brow furrowed, and she knew he wasn’t going to confide in her about any of those relationships. “Even in a relationship. A relationship isn’t a marriage. A child deserves two parents who are committed to each other.”

In a way, his statement was reassuring. But in another way, that intensity she sensed in Ben would be directed toward his child, toward fathering, toward custody.

He went on, “I don’t usually sleep that soundly, either. I hadn’t gotten much sleep that week or I would have heard you when you left. I wouldn’t have let you leave.”

“What would you have done?”

For a moment he was silent and she guessed he was trying to find diplomatic words. “I would have gotten your number in case anything happened. I take my responsibilities seriously. This baby, if it’s mine, will be my responsibility.”

“I’m the one who’s carrying this child. I’ll be primary caregiver. I’ll be making decisions for me and the baby.”

When he stiffened, she knew she might have been too blunt. But they might as well set their boundaries now. She wasn’t going to take directives or follow orders. If he wanted to be involved, this was about both of them being parents, not one or the other taking control.

After a few more seconds of their bodies not being as relaxed as they were a few moments before, Ben said, “I should break in on Camille and Miguel. That’s the tradition. Let’s move that way.”

She couldn’t tell if he’d had enough close contact or was really concerned about tradition. But she let him lead her toward the newly married couple.

Ben tapped his friend on the shoulder. “I think it’s my turn. You’ll have her for the rest of your life.”

“And I’ll even miss these few minutes with her,” Miguel complained. But then he looked at Sierra. Smiling, he offered her his hand. “Dancing with you will be my pleasure.”

He floated her away comfortably, not at all awkwardly the way she and Ben had danced. On second thought, the tension had been awkward, but their bodies had fit together all too well.

“So,” Miguel said, studying her carefully. “Camille tells me you and Ben arrived together. Are we supposed to read something into that?”

“There’s nothing to read. Why should both of us drive up separately?”

“That’s what I told Camille. But you know her, she has a suspicious nature. She maintains you two disappeared the night of our engagement party and we’re seeing the results of that now.”

“The results of what?” she asked.

“That’s what Camille wants to know.”

“You have no interest, of course.” Sierra gave him a rueful smile.

“Let’s just say, not many women turn Ben Barclay’s head.”

“How long have you been friends?” Sierra asked, eager to know more.

“Camille never told you our history?”

Sierra had avoided asking Camille questions about Ben. She hadn’t wanted to seem too interested. Actually, she hadn’t been interested. Not until they’d started talking, not until—

“No, she never told me.”

“Ben went to college with my brother.” A look of pain settled on Miguel’s face, pain that was always in his heart.

Sierra had known that Miguel’s brother, Pablo, had been killed in a drive-by shooting when he was home from college one summer.

“Ben was with Pablo when he was shot.”

Miguel never talked about his brother and Sierra had never asked. Camille had told her the basics and she hadn’t pressed for more.

Continuing, he explained, “Ben had come home with Pablo for a vacation before they both went to Tennessee to work on Habitat for Humanity homes. I really think what happened to my brother was the reason Ben decided to be a prosecutor, why he came here to Albuquerque instead of going back to his home in Minnesota.”

Miguel gave her a sad smile. “He has two brothers back home, but he’s become the brother to me that I lost. That’s why he’s my best man, and…” Miguel paused for effect. “That’s how I know there’s a spark in his eye when he looks at you. I haven’t seen that for a very long time.”

If Sierra asked Miguel more questions about Ben, he might answer her. For instance, when had he last seen that spark? Yet she knew if she wanted the answer, she would have to ask Ben herself. She needed to see his expression, learn to know him on her own.

“Ben doesn’t give much away, does he?” she asked.

“Think about his job, Sierra. Think about what he does every day, the criminals he has to question. Think about the juries he has to convince, the trials he has to win to make everyone safe. He’s practiced hard at giving nothing away. You’ll be good for him. You wear your heart on your sleeve. That’s a compliment, by the way, so don’t be offended. That was one thing I liked about you as soon as Camille introduced us—your lack of pretense.”

As the song ended, Miguel guided Sierra to where Camille and Ben were standing. Miguel took his new wife into his arms again. “How about one more dance before we start mingling?”

Camille gave him a kiss in reply.

Ben said to Sierra, “I’m going to step out on the balcony for some fresh air.”

She didn’t know if it was an invitation or not, but she took it as one. “That sounds like a good idea.”

They walked side by side to the French doors that led to a long balcony. He opened the door for her, and when they stepped outside, she realized they were alone. Although Sierra took in a deep lungful of the crisper night air, pleasant after the stuffiness inside, the breeze made her shiver.

“Cold?” Ben asked as a loose strand of her hair brushed against her cheek with the breeze.

“A little, but it feels good.” They were standing at the wrought-iron railing looking up at a magnificent night sky.

Ben reached over and touched her hand. “You are cold.” He shrugged out of his jacket and settled it around her shoulders.

She could feel his body heat still warming it and sank into the scent of his cologne. She asked, “Have you ever ridden a cable car up to the top of Sandia Peak at night?” She often took advantage of the tourist attraction when she needed to go to the top of the world and think.

“I’ve been up there a couple of times, but not at night.”

“You have to go. With the lights of Albuquerque below, the stars and the moon up above, it’s like being suspended in space where anything’s possible.”

They were silent again for a few minutes and then Ben turned to look at her. The light from inside the inn played over him, casting half his face in shadow. “You said you hadn’t been with a man for a long time. How long?”

“Since I was twenty.”

If he was surprised, he didn’t let on. Instead he asked a perceptive question. “What happened when you were twenty?”

She didn’t want to go there, she really didn’t, but she’d already sensed Ben wouldn’t give his trust easily. She wanted him to trust her. How else could they be parents together? “It’s still difficult for me to remember.”

When he kept quiet, she had no idea what he was thinking. Concerned he’d mistakenly believe she’d been assaulted or worse, she quickly said, “After high school I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. So I returned to Africa where my parents were then to help reestablish our relationship. I hadn’t seen them much over those four years. I thought if I acted as their secretary or assistant, maybe we could finally connect now that I was an adult.”

“Did that happen?”

“No. They really didn’t need me. I volunteered at a medical center. I was drawn to the children there and got to know the doctor who set up the clinic.”

“Got to know him?”

“Fell in love with him. Six months later we were planning our wedding. A week before the ceremony, he learned of an epidemic in one of the villages. He was determined to go and save lives and wouldn’t let me go with him. The reason was, there were guerrillas in the area, guerrillas who don’t care about sick children or the doctors who help them. All they cared about was stealing supplies and taking what they needed. Travis went because saving lives came first before any personal considerations. I knew if he was needed there, we’d postpone the wedding. I understood that. I understood his need to help.”

“What happened?”

“Travis was killed by fanatics who didn’t care who they murdered.” Her voice shook and she could hear the quiver. Tears burned in her eyes, and because she didn’t want Ben to see them, she stared up at the sky again.

“It seems like yesterday?” he asked in a low voice.

“Sometimes. Other times, it feels like a lifetime ago.” She slipped his coat from her shoulders, suddenly needing to be away from him, away from a man who stirred up feelings she hadn’t experienced in a very long time, away from a man who had wiped Travis from her memories for an evening.

She blinked a few times and found a smile and handed him his jacket. “Thanks. I think I’ll go in now.”

He didn’t stop her as she opened the door and stepped back into the reception.

Sierra mingled for a while, wanting to forget about her discussion with Ben on the balcony, not wanting to stir up memories of Travis or even the electrically charged feeling she experienced whenever she was with Ben. After speaking for a while with Miguel’s parents and then Camille’s, she noticed Ben on the other side of the room talking to a man who looked to be about his age. At the dessert table the wedding cake just didn’t tempt her, so she picked up one of the other selections, a cup of crème brûlée, and carried it to her table. She took a few bites.

Camille slipped onto the seat beside her. “Did you and Ben have a good conversation out on the balcony? It’s a romantic night out there.”

Sierra could see her friend was teasing her. She should tell her about her pregnancy. “We talked.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Camille, this is your wedding night. Why would you care what we talked about? You should be thinking about later, leaving tomorrow morning on your honeymoon.”

“Oh, I am, but you know me, I can multitask.”

Knowing her friend deserved the honesty with which they usually spoke, Sierra said, “I told him about Travis.”

Camille studied her. “There’s more going on here than two people who just met each other.”

That was an opening, so Sierra took it. Leaning close to Camille, she murmured in her ear, “I’m pregnant. Ben’s the father. I wasn’t going to tell you now, but you’re pushing.”

Camille tried to recover from her astonishment. “You are going to tell me when, where, how and why.”

“Not now, not here. I just told Ben last week. I want you to forget about it until you get back from your honeymoon.”

Camille laid her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Although the crème brûlée was lying heavy in her stomach, she assured Camille, “I’m fine. I’m going to figure it all out.”

“With Ben’s help?”

“We’ll see.”

Camille whistled through her teeth. “Ben Barclay. Who would have thought?”

Sierra’s quelling look didn’t intimidate Camille. “So that’s why you told him about Travis. Was that so you could get closer to him or push him away?”

Her friend never ducked the hard questions and Sierra had to think about that one. “I’m not sure.”

Her stomach felt even queasier. To distract both of them, she swiveled in her chair to face Camille. “So describe this resort where you’re staying in Aruba.”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“You bet I am.”

“It’s supposed to have everything, but Miguel and I probably won’t be seeing the outside of our room. I can’t wait to have nine whole days with him, without interruptions, without hi-and-goodbye schedules. I’m glad I quit my job last month to help with the wedding details. I know it will help us get a good start on our marriage.”

As an art history major, Camille had been working in one of the galleries in Santa Fe since she graduated from college. “Do you think you’ll go back to work?”

“Miguel doesn’t want me to. We’d really like to start a family, but I think part-time work might be nice. We’ll see how things go until after the New Year.”

Miguel was vice president at one of the Santa Fe banks. He’d also inherited a trust fund from his grandmother, so if Camille didn’t want to go back to work, they didn’t have to worry. But if Camille didn’t get pregnant quickly, Sierra suspected she’d tire of being a stay-at-home wife.

The nausea Sierra experienced was increasing, becoming more intense.

Camille studied her. “You’re looking a little green.”

Suddenly Sierra knew she needed to make an exit to the bathroom and fast. “Be right back,” she managed to mumble as she hopped up from her chair and made a beeline toward the ladies’ room. She just made it in time into one of the stalls and lost her supper when Camille rushed in after her.

“Are you okay? Ben’s right outside, he’s worried.”

Sierra stood and took a deep breath. Actually she felt much better. Pushing the door open, she told Camille, “I’m fine now, really,” and went to the sink to wash her face.

There was a knock on the ladies’ room door.

Camille’s brows arched just as the door opened an inch and one very masculine voice demanded, “Sierra? Are you all right? Can I come in?”

Seeing Ben right now was the last thing Sierra wanted.

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