

Begin Again

The Ludzecky Sisters

Book 1

Kathryn Shay

# Copyright 2015 Kathryn Shay

Cover art by Patricia Ryan

Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the online bookseller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

# Table of Contents

Prologue

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 15

Author Note

The Ludzecky Sisters series

PRIMARY COLORS Excerpt

CLOSE TO YOU Excerpt

PROMISES TO KEEP Excerpt

Author the Author

# Prologue

The Ludzecky family was well acquainted with tragedy, but none as horrific as this one.

The matriarch, Donuta Ludzecky, affectionately known as Matka, sat in the front pew of a Catholic church next to her best friend, Rosie Pettrone. The woman had suffered the worst loss any mother could have visited on her—losing a child or, in this case, losing two. Twin boys. Twenty-eight years old. The driver of a truck had barreled through a red light and crumpled the front of the car. The boys were killed instantly. They had been married to Paulina and Antonia, Donuta's two daughters. Like the good Polish woman that she was, Donuta sat stalwart, holding back any display of her own emotions. Of course, she suffered with and for her friend. But she also could not help thinking of the effect this obscene event would have on her eight children.

Her gaze traveled first to her twin girls, dressed in black, shoulders hunched, sitting on either side of Rosie. Antonia had dissolved into tears the moment they had walked into church and had not stopped crying. Lukasz had to take care of her two-year-old son, who cried into his uncle's chest. Paulina, stronger both physically and emotionally than Nia, had slid her arms around her boys, and remained stone-faced. The crying would come later for her, Donuta knew. And their lives would never be the same without their men. Donuta had learned that fact from the death of her own husband when she was in her forties.

Her gaze landed on Lukasz. He and his wife, Kelsey, had come down from Binghamton after the accident happened. Their near-perfect lives had been hard-won, and now their happiness would be shadowed by their sisters' trauma. And Lukasz would suffer over living four hours away from the family. Next in age, Caterina was content as a mother, working in linguistics for the Secret Service, very much in love with her husband Aidan O'Neil. She would want to protect the girls, which would be impossible. She had already made plans to stay in Queens with them for three weeks.

Ana, the third oldest, had helped take care of Donuta's other children, especially when more babies had come along and Donuta was in the hospital, giving birth or, twice, with exhaustion. Though Ana was happily married with one child, she would smother her twin sisters, trying to make things right for them.

Magdalena, a year younger than Ana, would take over the logistics. A successful businesswoman, she would try to organize, strategize and "fix" whatever she could for her sisters. She did not yet know there was no fixing tragedy, that the girls needed to simply grieve, but Magdalena believed she could do anything she set her mind to.

And then there was Sofia, who had had tragedy of her own. At sixteen, she had been diagnosed with leukemia. The treatment had forced her to give up her dancing aspirations. This one would go into herself unless someone stopped her. Donuta hoped her quiet daughter, fragile, thin as a willow, could withstand the sorrow that had come their way.

And last was Elizabeita. Who knew what the baby of the family would do? Bright enough to be a Rhodes Scholar and earn two degrees at Oxford, pretty enough to be a model and bold enough to sky dive and jump off cliffs, the girl had been impossible to control all her life. Donuta worried about her. How would this one handle the overwhelming grief?

When the priest asked them to stand, Donuta chided herself. She was thinking about her family's welfare, and here was poor Rosie, who had suffered such loss. However, the fact remained: Donuta would be a friend in every way, but her role as Matka would make her priority her children, as always.

# Chapter 1

Three Years later

"Stop fidgeting. I'm almost done." Magdalena, who was fussing Paulina's hair into a French braid, chided her younger sister. They sat before a vanity in Magdalena's elegant condo in the financial district.

Paulina stared in the mirror. "Sorry, but I just don't see the point of this. Tying it back would be easier."

"You're going to meet with the architect for this new project. You should be presentable."

"Why? I won't get more jobs from him because of my hair."

Magdalena, who always looked as if she'd stepped out of the pages of Vogue, sighed. "I hate that you hide your beauty."

"I don't hide it. It's just not important to me." Paulina touched her face. Her cheekbones were high and her skin clear. "So don't you dare ask for me to put on makeup."

"There, I'm done." Her sister picked up a hand mirror and showed Paulina the back of her head.

Thick and tightly woven, hanging down to her rib cage, the braid was pretty. But the sight made her sad. She could still see her husband with his big hand fisted in her hair. He'd whispered, Grow it long again. That was sexy as hell.

"You don't like the style?" Magdalena asked, probably noting her expression.

"I love it."

"But?"

Trying to diffuse the memory, Paulina sniffed at the row of jars and tubes containing creams Magdalena had lined up on the counter. "My hair was short when Donnie died. He wanted me to let it grow, but I couldn't see the point." The notion still prickled.

Magdalena's smile disappeared. "Yours grew the fastest."

In some kind of unconscious solidarity, all seven of the Ludzecky girls had grown their hair long since the Pettrone brothers' deaths, to match Antonia's, which she'd always let reach down her back. No one had planned it, but now they all sported the same thick, sun-streaked blond locks. Donnie would have loved it.

Magdalena kissed Paulina's head to signify she understood. "Think happy thoughts today, and put on the dress I brought you."

"Really, Mags, I have some dressy clothes of my own." Well, not quite dressy, but presentable enough for a business meeting.

"Humor me."

As Paulina stood and slipped into the sheath, she could appreciate the soft copper-colored silk flowing over her skin. It made her think of a man's hands touching her.

"What's wrong? You flushed like you turned on a porn channel by mistake."

Paulina sat to slide on her shoes. "I was just thinking."

"About?" A hesitation, then, "Spill it, girl." Sometimes all of the sisters, not just the twins, had a sixth sense about each other.

Briefly, Paulina looked into Magdalena's eyes. They, too, were hazel, though her sister's were almost almond shaped. "I miss having sex. There, I said it out loud."

"Ah." Magdalena took Paulina's hands in hers. "It's been three years. Donnie wouldn't want you to live like a nun."

No, he wouldn't. Once, when they were making out wills and designating the guardianship of their kids, they'd talked about what they'd want for each other if one of them died. Donnie, big, macho and protective as hell, had said, Don't mope over me, babe. Go on with your life.

"No, Donnie wouldn't want that. But Nia might."

Her twin had not moved past her grief over Peter, Donnie's twin, since their accident three years ago. Paulina had to tiptoe around her in order to even go forward in making changes in the business. Paulina certainly couldn't confess her desire to be with another man, faceless though he was at this point.

Magdalena kept hold of her hands. Two years older than Paulina, this sister was the most worldly of any of them, having gone to Harvard Business School and, afterward, having built a wildly successful career as an operational analyst in a large money firm in Manhattan, where she lived. "Honey, we all know Nia is in a different place from you. And we respect her timeline in getting over the grief. But you can't let her hold you back."

"That's not the only thing." Even when she shrugged, the silk caressed her. "I never go anywhere to meet men. I work with them all day but can't get involved with my employees. There's just nobody to date."

"Then take up hobbies. Join a gym."

Standing, Paulina turned to the mirror again. At five eight, her body was muscular and toned. "I don't need a gym. I do physical labor every day." She turned away from her image.

"And where would I get the time for hobbies?"

"Let me think on this."

Drawing back, Paulina checked her watch. "I have to be downtown in a half hour."

"One of the company's drivers is waiting for us. I can take you to Armstrong Associates on my way to work."

Remembering what this woman had done for them, Paulina's whole being softened. "My rich, beautiful sister. Have I thanked you enough for coddling us the last three years?"

"Hush. No need. Kocham ciebie, siostra. Always."

"And I love you."

Paulina was still thinking about Magdalena when she arrived at 16 Park Avenue. After she exited the luxurious leather-seated town car, she drew her dressy coat around her, stared up at the chrome-and-glass building. Befitting the architectural firm it housed on the top floors, the edifice had interesting angles that the late March sun sparkled off. She took a deep breath. The physical structure was somewhat intimidating. Her company, Pettrone and Ludzecky Builders, had gotten the construction bid for a new music hall in Queens, and Armstrong Associates had been chosen to design it. Since Donnie had secured contracts for the firm two years out, only for the past twelve months had Paulina been making the deals. Though she'd snagged this project, she still wasn't used to the process.

Shaking off the negative thoughts, she entered the building, carrying the purse Magdalena had insisted she bring. As she stepped into the elevator and watched the red numbers on the screen go up, she vowed she would be calm and collected.

The elevator opened to a contemporary suite of offices. Stunning teak double doors greeted her. She couldn't resist running her hand over the carving before she opened them to a large anteroom with a receptionist. The woman sat behind a sleek desk. "Hello. I'm Lana Bright. You must be Ms. Pettrone. Our ten o'clock is with you."

"Yes to both."

Lana rose. After hanging up Paulina's coat, the receptionist said, "Follow me." They went down a short corridor to a second set of double doors, which mirrored the ones in the entrance. Lana knocked.

A deep voice within called out, "Come in."

A man stood staring at the panorama beyond the windows that faced New York's skyline. Paulina got a fleeting impression of long, lean lines and wide shoulders before he turned and approached them. "Ms. Pettrone. Nice to meet you. I'm Adam Armstrong."

"You, too, finally." They shook hands.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to attend the initial meetings with the city and the structural engineers for this project."

"I was told you were in Europe."

"Designing an art museum in Florence."

"That must have been a wonderful experience."

"It was."

"Your father was a great substitute."

His face shone at the mention of his dad. How sweet.

"He's the greatest man I know." His smile was now a thousand watts. Actually, Adam was...arresting. His features were chiseled, his dark blond hair cut short enough to be neat but long enough to let the sun highlight it. His eyes were grass green.

Damn it all, she thought. If she was scoping out her business associates, Paulina really needed to find a man.

oOo

The woman's fingers were callused, Adam noticed when he shook her hand, and she didn't wear a speck of makeup. But she looked remarkably different in person than she had on her firm's website. More feminine, he guessed, though he never went for rounded cheeks and plain features. Adam appreciated the ability of women to use makeup cleverly to enhance their appearance. "Come in. May I call you Paulina?"

"Most people call me Paulie."

God, no, not a boy's name. He preferred the more lyrical form of address. "Call me Adam. Can Lana get you something?"

She shook her head, and a few tendrils of hair escaped her functional braid. Soft and blond, they kissed her face.

"Then let's sit."

They took chairs at an oval teak table by the windows. Her eyes widened like a child's as she perused the skyline. Right away, he knew this woman wouldn't dissemble, which would be a welcome change from some business partners he'd dealt with. "What a pretty office, Adam, and a gorgeous view."

"It's inspirational."

"I'll bet." Smiling, she still gazed out the window. "I love all the styles, sizes and heights of the buildings in the city."

"I do, too." Though nobody had ever voiced his own affection for New York like that. Glancing down, he unrolled the blueprints. "Ready?"

The corners of her mouth turned up.

"What?"

"You sound like a little kid opening a present."

He chuckled. "I guess that's how I feel about my work. Even though you've gone over the preliminary drawings with my father, you haven't seen the actual building."

"Go for it."

The facade was first. Paulina Pettrone drew back when she saw it. What the hell? He waited as she leaned in closer and examined every inch of it, then raised her gaze to his. The color of fall leaves now, her eyes were filled with something he couldn't name. "I didn't expect this."

"Is something wrong?" He felt as if somebody had told him his baby was ugly.

"I'm surprised at the traditional arches and windows. Carvings into the stone. The classic lines." She gestured to encompass the office. "I was anticipating something more modern, like this."

"The city wants a classic look for the exterior. This style fits in with the neighboring buildings. But the inside has some modern elements." He stared down at his plans. "Besides, it will be filled with some of the greatest music in the world, so it should be a combination of both."

"I'm glad you believe in matching the exterior with what's inside."

He'd been called the new Frank Lloyd Wright, whose mantra was exactly that. He wouldn't brag to her, though.

She took a bead on him. "I checked you out online. Now I remember the comparison to Wright. Very nice."

"Thank you." Her gaze went back to the plans, as if she couldn't stop looking at them. That tickled him. After he let her study each and every page, he asked, "Do you think you can handle the outside?"

"Of course." She seemed amused at his question, making him feel silly. "We've done older facades like this before. I've worked on all of them." Now her eyes twinkled. "Literally. I helped set stone in place and built the arches."

"I'm impressed. Your company has been in the contracting business for ten years?"

"Uh-huh. I started to work there right out of high school but ended up getting a degree in building construction at a local college and took several more structural-engineering courses."

Since he knew what had happened to her, he felt he needed to mention it. "I know your husband and his twin brother started the business years ago. Is it all right if I say how sorry I am for their accident?"

The light went out of those eyes. It didn't dim, it was doused completely. And the effect was startling. He'd never seen that kind of transformation before. "Yes, you can say that. It's worse when new people ignore that he's gone."

Adam squeezed her arm. Now, that part of her skin was silky. And he got a faint whiff of lotion. "Then I'm glad I said something."

"Don't you want to know if I can handle the job since I've only been in charge three years?"

"Word on the street says you and Don were equal partners."

Her laughter was soft. Sincere. "I like that. He would, too."

"Let me show you the inside. There are some complicated sections."

Her chin raised, and his attention dropped to the cuffed neckline of the dress. "I can do anything that needs to be done."

"You wouldn't be here if I didn't think you could, Paulina."

"I know. Now show me your baby."

# Chapter 2

"Get the lead out, Benson. We need that lumber up to the house right away." Paulina was walking toward Frank Murray, her foreman, as he spoke to a worker who'd been slacking off. "Everything okay?"

Frank turned and his jaw dropped. "Who are you lady, and what have you done with Paulie?"

Glancing down, she felt herself blush. She'd change in the firm's trailer, parked at the job site and containing the office, a bathroom and a small kitchenette. "Very funny. I had a business meeting. I'm going to turn back into Cinderella now. But I wanted to make sure everything went fine without me."

His gaze softened. "You know Don didn't check on us every second."

She nodded. "I want everybody to see I can take his place effectively."

Reaching out, he gently touched her arm. "It's been three years, honey." The term wasn't sexist, more old-fashioned. "We know you can do this. The men and women who work for us full time, as well as the subs we hire, respect and like you."

"Thanks." Turning, she headed toward the trailer.

Frank called out, "Hey, nice hairdo."

Her hand went to the braid. "Mags's idea." As she walked to the trailer, she thought about Frank. He'd been Donnie's best friend, outside Pete, and they'd worked together for years. Donnie used to tease her about him.

Frankie's got a crush on you.

He told you that?

Nah, I can tell. And he makes unconscious comments. "Paulie seems tired, but she's still pretty... Like that dress your wife had on last night." Donnie had grinned. I hope I don't have to punch him out someday.

She'd jumped on her husband then and wrapped her arms and legs around his body. If she recalled correctly, they'd had sex right there on the couch in the corner.

A burst of pain shot through her, so strong she had to grip the purse she carried. She missed Donnie so much and still, sometimes, couldn't believe he was gone. Though everybody thought she was the strong one and Nia the most affected by the deaths of their husbands, sometimes the loss of him made her want to crawl under the covers and stay there.

Her sister Sofia, who owned a yoga studio, had taught her to deal with the ambushes of grief by taking deep breaths and concentrating on them instead. So, once inside, she sat down and took in air slowly, then let it out. Several times, and her hands stopped shaking. Finally, she was together enough to change into a T-shirt, jeans and work boots and head out the door. She had work to do. And a lot more to come, one of which was a beautiful new building in Queens, where she'd lived her whole life and was surrounded by loving friends and family. "You have a lot to be thankful for, Paulina," she reminded herself as she walked to the house. "Remember that."

oOo

Adam sat in the backseat of his limo, fingering the small cell phone Paulina Pettrone had left behind in his office. She'd checked the time on it and must have thought she'd slipped the thing back in her purse. Lana had spotted the small device under the chair.

Paulina had seemed uncomfortable with that purse—an expensive deep brown one—and maybe even in the dress she'd worn. He hadn't expected the woman he'd looked up online to wear such sophisticated clothes. He'd pegged her as what they used to call a tomboy, but she was certainly feminine when she showed up today.

Hell, what did he really know about women?

Do you realize you call your buildings she? You're married to them, not to me. All you think about is work.

To be honest, at the time, Bethany had been right. He'd joined his father's firm after graduating from Cornell, and in typical-dad fashion, Andrew Armstrong had told him he'd have to earn his way up the ladder. Adam had not only risen to his father's expectations but enjoyed the sense of accomplishment. He'd worked hard to please his dad, and himself, too.

Unfortunately, Bethany hadn't been able to wait for success to come their way and had had an affair with his best friend. He didn't know what hurt more—losing his wife or his longtime buddy, which in itself said something about his marriage.

"The site's right up here, Adam."

Adam could see the trailer labeled Pettrone and Ludzecky Builders and the frame of the current building they were erecting. The scent of fresh-cut wood filled his head when he opened the door. "Thanks, Joe. I'll only be a minute."

His driver, Joe, had been with him for years, so it wasn't odd that he turned around in the seat and wiggled his brows. "Must be some woman to come this far out of your way."

"What?"

"Bringing her the phone instead of having me run it out. You must like her."

"No, actually, I only met her this morning. And she's not my type." He thought of Elyssa, the woman in his life these days, with the sleek, short hair and long, lean body.

Joe faced forward again. "Uh-huh."

Since it was seven at night, the site was deserted. No vehicles were parked on the grass, but a light was on in the trailer. After he exited his car, he walked over to it and knocked. No answer. He knocked again. Then he heard, "Who's there?"

"Adam Armstrong. You left your cell phone in my office, and I had a meeting out this way, so I'm returning it." He told the little lie because, Joe was right, his actions were unusual. Nothing. Then he heard the lock snick. Paulina opened the door. The first thing he noticed was she held a baseball bat. The second was she wore men's clothes, reinforcing his tomboy expectation. And last, she was dirty...really dirty. Her face was smudged. The T-shirt dingy. Jeans sported patches of mud and clunky work boots were scuffed and caked. "Hi." She nodded to the phone. "You didn't have to do that."

"No problem."

"I'm not used to carrying a purse. I usually stick the cell in my pocket. But then again, I didn't have one of those in the dress, either."

Her confession stumped him. No coyness from her. And she certainly wasn't trying to impress him. "Um, okay."

She shook her head. Her hair was still pulled back, but now the braid was messy. "It's Mags's fault. She made me take the damn thing."

"Mags?"

"Magdalena, my sister. She dressed me for our meeting." Her hand went to her mouth. "Oops, I don't think I was supposed to tell you that."

"Why?"

"She thought I should appear more sophisticated." The sound that came out of her mouth was almost a snort. "As if."

"You looked perfectly lovely." He gave his version of a snort, then scanned her up and down. "Quite a difference from now. What the hell did you do today?"

"Plumbers were putting in the bathroom piping, and somebody had to go into the crawlspace beneath. I went because I'm the littlest. Not that I'm little. But smaller than the guys."

"Interesting." He couldn't help but smile. Who would have known once he got her talking, she'd ramble on. And reveal a lot about herself.

"Sorry for running my mouth. I got nervous when you came to the door." He nodded to the bat, which she still gripped in a gritty hand. "That's not much protection. I could wrest it away from you in seconds."

"Ha! No way."

"Want to bet?"

"Sure. You can buy me a beer sometime if I win, and if I lose, I'll treat you to one of those fancy martinis that comes in all flavors." It was his turn to chuckle.

With a light in those hazel eyes, she eased her way outside. Night hadn't fallen, but they were in shadows. He thought briefly how this so wasn't him, but her playfulness was contagious. Whipping off his jacket and hanging it on the doorknob to the trailer, he rolled up his sleeves and took a crouching stance. "Go ahead, try to hit me."

Raising that bat, she winked. "Don't worry. I got good reflexes. I won't hurt you." She aimed for his shoulder, but he darted out of the way. She pivoted fast and went for his hip. Again, he evaded. When she tried to get around him, he caught the end of the bat and snatched it from her.

"I told you—"

His feet went out from under him—and he went sprawling face first in the dirt.

Standing over him, she laughed. "I wouldn't call that a win."

He managed to sit up and dangled his hands between his legs. "I got the bat, but you got me. For the record, I wasn't prepared for a street fight."

"Always be prepared for a street fight. My brother taught me that." She held out her hand.

Taking it, he rolled to his feet. But he didn't let go. "When?" he asked.

"When what?"

"When can I take you for the beer?"

"Oh, forget it. We really tied."

Suddenly, he didn't want to forget it. "I—"

"Mr. Armstrong?" The voice came from under a nearby tree—full of humor.

"Damn. Did you see that, Joe?"

His friend came over to them. "Every bit. I'd say you're losin' your touch, boss."

"Joe Corleone, this is Paulina Pettrone. She's building the music hall."

"So you said." Joe turned an affectionate smile on Paulina. "Hello, Mrs. Pettrone."

"Mr. Corleone." Her expression was mischievous again. "Should I, like, be afraid of you?"

A deep laugh rumbled out of Joe. "Maybe. I got connections, lady."

Adam cocked his head. Was Joe hitting on Paulina? She must like Italian men, given who she'd married.

Paulina bestowed an equally flirty expression on Joe. "I have a few things to finish, and then I'm leaving."

Glancing around, Adam frowned. "Where's your car?"

"My truck's back home. I stayed with Magdalena in the city last night, then I caught a train back out here. I'll call a cab tonight."

"Won't your family come get you?"

"Yeah, they would. But then my sister will...never mind. I'll be fine."

Joe crossed his arms over his chest. "We aren't goin' anywhere without you. You shouldn't be out here all alone."

Her face saddened. "Yeah, you're right. I have to be careful for my boys. You never know when disaster will strike."

Stillness, full of grief, invaded the night.

"So you'll come with us." Joe's tone was firm.

"I'm a mess. I'll dirty up the car."

"No problems. I got a blanket in the trunk."

They waited while she locked up, then headed to the car. Joe retrieved the blanket and opened the back door for Adam. But Paulina grabbed the blanket and then the handle of the front door. "I'll ride up here with your chauffeur."

Once inside, Adam said, "He's a great deal more than that."

She climbed inside and the door shut. Adam followed suit. And wondered why it bothered him that she obviously didn't want to get in the backseat with him?

oOo

"So, you live in Queens?" Joe asked.

"Born and bred."

"I spent some time here in my youth." Joe's tone was filled with amusement, indicating the trouble he'd probably gotten into. As he drove out of the site and onto the road, he added, "Sorry about your husband, Mrs. Pettrone. Do you live alone now?"

"Hardly. After Donnie and Peter died, our two families moved into the house where my sister and I grew up with my mother. My crew and others in the business put on a huge addition, and now it's home to three little boys, three women and various sisters and brothers who come to visit."

"Do you like livin' with all of them? I gotta have my space."

She shrugged. "Being together saved all our sanity after the accident. Now I think we're getting on each other's nerves some."

"It's sweet that you had your family around you."

"Don't you have family, Joe?"

"I got three brothers. And then there's my other familia, if you get my drift. They're nice to have in my pocket."

"Oh, God," Paulina uttered and the guys laughed. He probably wasn't related to the mob, but she wasn't going to take any chances.

The big car swerved to the curb. She wondered what they thought of the three-story building made of brick and wood that stood back from the street. Warm lights glowed from within, and a porch lamp had been turned on. She swiveled in her seat and caught sight of Adam, sprawled on expensive leather, his arms spread over the seat back, his legs stretched out. "Thank you, Adam, for the ride."

"Oh, did you remember I was back here?" His voice was laced with humor. She hadn't realized she'd practically ignored him. But it was interesting that he'd taken note.

Joe said, "I'll walk her to her door."

Adam sat forward. "No, I got this one, Joe." Without waiting, he climbed out of the backseat, opened her door and helped Paulina out.

His firm grip and now the sight of him, even with a layer of dirt on his clothes, stirred something inside her. With his hand at her back, he opened the wrought-iron gate and walked up the long sidewalk to the porch. Night had fallen, cloaking them in shadows when they reached the front door. She turned to him. He seemed even bigger, and his chest was...well, great. She'd noticed his muscular build when they'd tangled with the bat. A little thrill of attraction coursed through her again. "Thank you. For my phone. For the ride. For the interesting conversation."

She nodded to the car. "He's a great guy. You have an unusual relationship."

"I know. In some ways, he's my best friend."

"Again, that's sweet."

He took her hand, squeezed it. "I'm looking forward to working with you, Paulina."

"I feel the sa—" The front door flew open and Nia stood before them, like an outraged mother whose kid was late getting home.

"Paulie, where have you been? I called you several times."

"I left my phone at Armstrong Associates. Adam was kind enough to bring it out after work." She glanced at the phone in her hand. "I never turned it on. Sorry."

Antonia took a bead on him. "You're the architect on our new project. I've spoken with your secretary."

His brows raised.

"Nia's our office manager, Adam."

"Ah." He stared at her. "You've got to be twins, right?"

"Of course we are."

"Nia's prettier," Paulina blurted out, wondering why she'd said that. Basically, Adam Armstrong was a stranger. And it wasn't as if she minded how beautiful Nia was. It would be like being jealous of herself.

Adam stepped back. "I'll say good night." He arched a brow. "To both of you lovely ladies. Paulina, I hope to see you soon."

He headed down the walk in a sexy stroll that picked up Paulina's pulse. Shaking her head at her foolishness, she went inside the house. Nia shut the door—hard.

"What's wrong?"

Nia's arms circled her waist. "You...you were with another man."

"No, no, Nia. He's our architect. I only met him today."

"He seemed interested in you."

"I highly doubt that. I'm not his type." She linked arms with her twin. "Now, fill me in on what the boys did today."

"Okay. They're playing their half hour of video games now. I'll warm up supper."

"Great." She laid her head on her sister's shoulder. "I'm glad to be home."

# Chapter 3

"All right now boys, go get ready for bed."

"Not without Mommy." This from Ben, the rascal of the family.

Donuta stood and picked him up, glad that at sixty-five she could still lift the little boy.

She gave him a sloppy kiss, then set him down. "I want to talk to your mother. She will be right up." Matka gave him the look that kept everybody in line, from child to adult. Both kids scampered away.

Before she sat again, she went out into the kitchen and came back with a Molson's—Paulina and Donnie's favorite beer. "Thanks, Matka."

"You need this." She scanned her daughter. "You are dirty tonight. And seem more tired than usual." Donuta studied her. "On edge, too."

"It was a long day." She took a sip of beer. "How was yours?"

"Simple. Ana came over. We made pierogi for tomorrow night."

The devil came into Paulina's eyes. This one could tease. "Ah, yes, we're going to meet your gentleman friend."

Donuta was not shaken. "Yes, kochanie, you are. Is that all right with you?"

"Of course." Paulina sat forward and took Donuta's hand. "You're not worried about us meeting him, are you?"

"No." She glanced away. "Maybe Nia."

"Do you want me to talk to her?"

"I have done that. But thank you for asking. I suppose I wanted to share my worries. You are so good at listening, Paulina. To your own detriment."

"How's that?"

"You put others first, and sometimes do not tend to your own needs. I have a feeling you are lonely."

"How can I be lonely in this house full of people and scads of workers at the company?"

"In the same way I am."

Her daughter's pretty face turned sad. "I'm sorry you're lonely. I'll be very nice to Gerald. I'll say something to Nia, just in case." She stood, took another swig of beer and set it on the table. "I have to go get the boys down."

"There, you just did it again. You change from a discussion about your life to that of ours."

"Did I?" She gave Donuta a peck on the cheek. "I'll think about what you said." After she left, Donuta sat and picked up the drink. Beer was not her favorite, but she took a taste anyway. Her lovely daughter would eventually focus on herself no matter how long Donuta had to prod. And a mother knew well how to do that.

oOo

Nia sat next to Salvador on his bed and leafed through the photo album. She'd started this ritual right after Peter died, when Sal was two. For three years, she showed him pictures of his dad and told him the stories behind the photos. Now, she watched as her child, almost an exact duplicate of her husband, searched for a special picture. Not for the first time, she wondered if she'd kept this up for too long. It was bad enough that Nia still grieved for Peter, but she worried that the nightly reminders might stunt Sal's progress in moving on. He was so introverted it scared her sometimes.

"This one, Mommy."

Ah, he'd chosen one of her favorites. The two of them, bringing their tiny baby home from the hospital.

"That's me, right?" He knew this, of course, as he'd chosen it before.

"Yep. You, me and Daddy."

"And I was the...what did you call it?"

"The light of our lives."

That too worried her. She didn't want to put too much pressure on Sal by doting on him, letting him know he was the focus of her universe, even though he was.

Carefully, he traced the blue blanket with his fingers. Nobody knew where the boy got his artistic talent, but he was fascinated by colors and shapes and many of his drawings hung in the playroom. His teachers said he was exceptional.

"I cried a lot, right?"

"Uh-huh. And Daddy would get up and walk you."

"I don't remember, Mommy."

"Of course you don't. You were just born."

"No, I don't remember him."

Another heartbreak. All three boys had been toddlers when their fathers were killed, and none remembered the men themselves. "That's why we look at the pictures, honey. So you can remember."

He yawned. "I know."

"Time for sleep. You're tuckered out."

Obediently, and contrary to his cousin Ben, Salvador handed her the book and slid down onto his pillow. "'Night, Mommy. Love you."

"I love you, too, baby."

Instead of leaving, she lay down on the bed with him until he fell asleep. This too was a concern. Damn it, when had she become such a worrywart? Where was the shy but happy young woman Peter had married? Problem was, Nia didn't know how to get her back.

oOo

"God bless Matka, Aunt Nia, Sal and Mommy. Tell Dad I hit a grounder to first base in T-ball today."

The last of Ben's words were uttered tenderly. He was a pistol of a boy, and it killed her to hear the sadness in his voice. Paulina ruffled his hair.

Kneeling on the other side of her, Tommy began, "Hi, God." He gave the usual mentions of his family. "Tell Daddy I miss him."

Each night, these prayers were different. Sometimes funny. Sometimes poignant, a few times angry. Tonight's words were sentimental again.

Each twin bolted up from his knees and climbed into a bunk bed. Paulina boosted herself up to Tommy's on top, lay next to him and glanced at the ceiling. She'd put stars on the plaster, and they glimmered when even the subtlest of light hit them. "You okay, buddy?"

"Yeah. I wish Daddy was here." His mouth formed a grim line, too grim for a five-year-old. "We got that father-son camping trip at church."

She'd known about that, but forgotten about it. Damn! She hated those things. Didn't youth group leaders ever think about kids without dads? "Maybe Uncle Luke can take you."

"Matka called him. He's away at a meeting for teachers."

"I could ask Frank."

"Nah. It's okay." His eyes closed. His lashes were thick like Donnie's, his hair and eyes as dark as his father's.

"Good night, honey." She kissed him on the cheek, then vaulted to the floor and crept in with Ben. On the plywood above his bed were pictures of famous baseball players. Luke had spent a lot of time teaching him about the leagues. "I'm too old for this, Mom."

"If you want me to not tuck you in, I'll stop doing it. But I think maybe you think you should be too old for this. I won't tell anybody, Ben."

"I won't, either," a voice came from above.

"'Kay, Mom. Sorry."

They talked for a few minutes, then exhausted from the long day, she left the twins' bedroom and went into the bathroom. While she tidied up the towels and wiped away toothpaste, she thought about the rituals they had before bedtime. On her way to the boys' room, she'd seen Nia with Sal looking at a photo album. It didn't take Einstein to figure out what the book contained. Pictures of Pete and Donnie. Though they all had to deal with the obscene tragedy in their own ways, she worried about Nia, who couldn't seem to move on and was probably affecting Sal's ability to do so, too.

Pushing away the unpleasant notion, Paulina went into her room. It adjoined the twins' by way of a bathroom, and similarly, Nia's connected with Sal's. After those few awful weeks of living at their respective houses, Antonia had talked about moving home to live with Matka. And she'd begged Paulina to do the same. Paulina hadn't been ready to leave the house she and Donnie had built, but the yawning loneliness and excruciating pain of loss had made her succumb. She'd mentioned to Frank they'd need renovations on the Ludzecky family home, and asked if he'd help her do them. Instead, he'd taken over the project and an entire addition had been miraculously put on in two weeks. All the builders in the industry in Queens who'd known Donnie and Peter dropped everything else to do the work, and they wouldn't take payment. Now, three years later, she was still here.

Thoughtful tonight, she scanned the room. Because she'd been uninterested in picking out colors and furniture, Ana had decorated her room in bright yellows and greens, Nia's in soft peaches and browns. Now Paulina could appreciate the multi-colored spread, the cheery walls and accent chairs. The furniture had come from their master bedrooms at home, but the different décor had been Ana's idea.

Shaking off the ruminations, Paulina stripped out of the yoga clothes she'd put on and tossed them into a wicker basket. She went into the bathroom, turned the shower to hot and stepped into it.

Nirvana. The strong spray beat against her back, her butt, her legs, easing muscles she'd overused today. Turning around, she let it wash the dirt off her face and the rest of her body. As she soaped her hair, she imagined a man massaging her scalp with strong, masculine fingers.

He'd be behind her and when he finished with the shampoo, his sudsy hands would slide around front to caress her. He'd knead her breasts in just the right way, slip his hand between her thighs and bring her to climax.

Sometimes she imagined Donnie doing these things, but lately, it was a faceless stranger.

Tonight was the latter. Blue eyes. Blond hair. Hmm.

A loud knock yanked her from her fantasies. "Paulie, you've been in there forever. Are you coming out soon?"

If her sister was a shrew in her still-intense grief, Paulina would have confronted her about it. But Nia's sadness hit you like those pictures of hungry kids on television. It reached out and clutched at your heart. So Paulina was very, very patient with Nia.

"Be there in a minute."

Wearing a green towel around her body and one twisted in her hair, Paulina exited the bathroom and found her sister propped up by pillows on the bed. "You all right?"

"I don't know." Her face was lined with fatigue. Her shoulders slumped in pretty pink pajamas, which Paulina knew Pete had bought her for Christmas one year. "I feel worse today than usual."

Paulina sat down on the mattress. "Was it because I was late and didn't call?"

"Partly. We all worry."

"Did something else happen?"

"Yes." When she looked up, her expression was one of a criminal who'd just committed a crime. "Tommy and Ben's Little League coach asked me out for coffee."

"What did you say?"

"The truth. That I'm not ready to date." Nia ran a hand through her long, thick blond hair. She was really pretty. Paulina remembered saying that aloud in front of Adam and his subtle compliment after. Good night...to both you lovely ladies.

Studying Nia, she decided the time was right to press her. "It's been three years, sweetie.

Pete wouldn't want you to live the rest of your life alone."

"I know. Rosie and I talked about it." Pete's mother had been like a second parent to them. Both girls adored her. "She encouraged me to see other men, to heal faster."

"I feel the same way, Nia. You do need to move on."

Nia swallowed hard and wrung her hands. "It's not that I don't want to. I do. But I can't."

Her gaze was pleading. "Tell me how to get better, Paulie. You're making progress."

"With baby steps. Go out with the hunky coach."

"I'll think about it." She studied Paulina's face. "You're exhausted. You should go to sleep."

They could always read each other. As much as Nia knew Paulina needed rest, she in turn knew what Nia wanted. "Stay with me tonight." They'd slept in the same bed as kids, and at horrible times like when Stash Ludzecky, their father, had died. Then they'd lost the guys, and for three weeks, they'd shared the same bed. Ana, their older sister, had moved into the house for three months and often joined them. Unfortunately, Ana's sojourn at the Ludzecky homestead had put a terrible strain on her marriage and eventually led to a divorce. Paulina would never forgive Jared Creswell for being so selfish at such a devastating time.

"I do need to rest. But I'll sleep better if you're here."

"You sure it's okay?"

"Of course. I'll dry my hair, then be right back."

When Paulina returned to the bathroom, she retrieved the dryer; she'd take only the time to get most of the dampness out before sleep. When she glanced in the mirror, she could see the shower behind her. And thought once again how she wished she had company tonight other than her sister. Maybe Matka was right. Maybe she was lonely.

oOo

For some reason, Adam had had a hard time sleeping last night, so he was late getting to work. He walked into his office at nine and found his father waiting for him. His favorite man in the world was dressed in golf clothes. Drew Armstrong had just retired, leaving Adam the business to run. "Hey, Dad."

His father peered up from the architecture magazine he'd been reading. Adam knew exactly what he would look like at sixty-five: gray hair, same dynamic green eyes and not an ounce of fat on him. Not only were he and his dad in sync mentally but physically, too. It couldn't have pleased Adam more. "I didn't believe Lana that you weren't in yet and hadn't called to say you had an appointment." He cocked his head and asked, "Who is she?"

"I was home alone last night." His frown came without his conscious permission. "I didn't sleep well."

"So I'll ask again. Who is she?"

"There isn't a woman. Though now that you mention it, I think I was dreaming about a blonde." God in heaven, could it have been Paulina Ludzecky? Nah, she wasn't his type.

"Spit it out. You know who she is. I can see it on your face."

"Talking about the dream brought someone to mind. I met with the Pettrone and Ludzecky rep yesterday to discuss the music hall."

"That poor family. Two sons dying at once." His dad actually shivered. "I can't imagine how one lives on after that."

"I hear you, Dad."

"Why don't you come golfing with me today?"

"I'd love to, but I can't without making plans ahead of time. How about Saturday?"

His dad stood. "You're on, son. She pretty?"

"Who?"

"The rep from Pettrone and Ludzecky?"

"Not really. At least not until you get to know her. She's got a girl-next-door face and a no-frills attitude." He grinned.

"What?"

"She left her phone at my office. Joe and I ran it out, and she was alone at the company's trailer. She answered the door with a bat."

"Sounds feisty."

"I'm sure she is. But she's a little too wholesome and tomboyish for me."

"Tell that to your dreams, kid."

After his father left, Adam made himself a cup of coffee from the Keurig, sat down at his desk and put Paulina Ludzecky out of his mind. After calling up his email, he was scanning it when an incoming text chimed on his cell phone. He clicked into the first message. It was from Elyssa.

He thought about the tall, lithe, dark-haired woman he was dating. Now she was his type. She wanted to have dinner with him. He responded affirmatively, then another text came in. He didn't recognize the number, but he called it up anyway.

Just got word the groundbreaking for the music hall is scheduled for April fifteenth. Didn't know if you were notified.

Coincidence or kismet that Paulina was contacting him when he'd just been talking about her. Thinking about her. He typed back: You know the mayor's planning a ribbon cutting.

Oh, no. I hate those things.

You have to go. Do we need to meet beforehand? He knew they didn't.

No return message. Huh. He went back to his email. Five minutes later, another chime.

Maybe another bat-stealing contest?

Adam laughed aloud. No thanks, you fight dirty.

Right away came: I DO NOT!

She was shouting at him already.

He seriously thought about asking her for that beer after the ceremony. Was she a good conversationalist? She and Joe had kept a running dialogue in the car, and she'd revealed a sense of humor and an ability to banter well.

But something stopped him. He glanced around his expensively furnished office, glanced down at his $2000 suit. And thought of the peek he'd gotten into the construction company's trailer, the kind of neighborhood she lived in, and her dirty T-shirt and jeans. The two of them would have absolutely nothing in common.

Somewhat begrudgingly, he typed back. You were right. It could be considered a draw.

This wouldn't go anywhere. He'd save her the heartache of finding that out herself. Due in a meeting now. See you on the fifteenth.

He set his phone on the desk and turned back to email. He called up his business account and lost himself in the wonders of building design. Only once or twice did he get a twinge of regret for halting anything with Paulina Ludzecky before it began.

oOo

"Son of a bitch!" Paulina plopped her hands on her hips. "Who the hell in his right mind would leave knotty-pine ceiling lumber in front of the house? She cupped her hands and called out, "Hey, anybody know when this was dropped?"

A carpenter, Jason, came up to her. "That isn't for the ceiling, is it?"

"Yep. Do you know when it was delivered?"

"About an hour ago. I thought it was more two-by-fours."

"Damn it." She nodded to Jase. "I know it's not your fault."

These kinds of things used to drive Donnie nuts. His irritation had rubbed off on her, or maybe her cranky mood was because last week Adam hadn't taken her up on her positive response that she'd like to meet up. But he was her last worry today. She stalked to the trailer, went inside and called up records for the house. In minutes, she had the lumber people on the line.

"Carter Ceilings."

"This is Paulina Pettrone. I ordered knotty-pine wood for a ceiling, and it was dropped off outside. In the air. It's sunny now, but it could have rained."

"Hold on. I'll connect you with Larry."

A man came on. "Elkins. What's up?"

Patiently she explained the problem again.

"Yeah, I dropped it off myself. My regular guy was sick."

"You dropped it off outside."

"Uh-huh."

"What if it had rained?"

"It was blue skies."

She gritted her teeth. "Mr. Elkins, check your invoice."

"Now?"

"Yes."

Grumbling. Mumbles of hell and damn. He yelled to a person named Mary. Finally,

Paulina heard rustling paper, and he said, "I got it. What am I looking for?" Male irritation dripped from his voice.

"Check the box for directions."

"Okay, okay, I see."

When he didn't say more, she asked, "It says wood is to be dropped off in the upstairs master bedroom and the downstairs kitchen and family room."

"Yeah, I got it now. I didn't see that."

"Sorry about your error. You'd better get over here quick. We clock off at five."

"You shitting me, lady? It's a half-hour drive from my place to yours."

"I know."

"Can't your men do it this time?"

"No."

Before she clicked off, she heard more grumbling and "...ball buster."

She sighed. Her normal instincts were to do it herself, at least her and her crew. But Donnie had been adamant about these things.

Don't let them get away with anything. We're the buyer. They're the seller. They'll take advantage of your sweet nature, honeybunch.

He liked to call her pet names on the job, just to see her get mad. As always, the memory made her sad. She thought about the Elkins to avoid her memories of Donnie. Maybe there was a compromise. Maybe when he got here, she'd help him carry the lumber in. Donnie wouldn't have let her do that, but Donnie was gone, as she knew so well. Too well. Sadly well.

# Chapter 4

Joe drove the town car up to the big brown awning that served as the entrance to the Tavern on the Green. "Here you go, boss." Under his breath, he murmured, "Better you than me."

"What was that, Joey?"

A chuckle escaped his driver, who tonight wore a suit in deference to the event. "You know you're dreading this."

"I don't particularly like fundraisers, no. But I promised Elyssa I'd be here."

Elyssa ran a successful business planning fundraisers for the cultural arts. She employed a large staff and worked hard herself.

"If I were you, I'd rather be wrestlin' bats from that little Paulina Ludzecky."

"Be careful what you wish for." Adam chuckled with the memory of Paulina, bat raised, eyes narrowed, scoping out how she would beat him. "She's a wild woman."

Joe rolled his eyes. "Not takin' that one on."

Playfully, he socked Joe in the arm. "Go get something to eat, but leave your phone on."

"In case you want a quick escape?"

"Just be available, wise guy."

Adam approached the building, walked under the long red canopy and entered the restaurant. The place was closed to the public tonight to accommodate a fundraiser for the Youth Arts Center in Brooklyn. Local artists had donated paintings and photographs to be auctioned off to get the money needed for this very worthy cause. As usual, the event was by invitation only.

He handed his card to the host at the door.

Adam liked this restaurant, particularly the room where the dinner/auction was being held. Walls of windows spanned the circular space and glittery chandeliers dangled from the high ceiling. The tables were covered with blue-and-white linens. He caught sight of Elyssa near those windows. Once again, he noted that she was his type. Five eight, slender, and sleek in a black dress. She was talking to a woman in front of a group of photographs for sale. When she saw him, she motioned him over. She stepped away from her guest and kissed his cheek after he reached her. "You're late, darling."

"Sorry."

"Come, I want you to meet the wife of one of our donors. He couldn't make it, but she was available."

When he got closer to the woman Elyssa had been talking to, his jaw dropped. She was tall, solidly built, with skeins of blond hair. It knocked him off-kilter for a minute because her high cheekbones and hazel eyes were an awful lot like...

Low and husky, Elyssa said, "Adam Armstrong, this is Caterina Ludzecky."

"I thought so."

"Excuse me?" Caterina's thick eyebrows rose. They, too, were the exact color of her sister's. "Do we know each other?"

"No. But I'm working with your sister, Paulina."

The woman's whole face brightened. Full lips parted, and a familiar sparkle came into her eyes. "You know Paulie? Isn't she a doll?"

"I liked her." A grim thought invaded his consciousness. "I'm sorry for what happened to your brothers-in-law."

The sun went out of Caterina's eyes. "I still can't believe it sometimes. We knew them all our lives."

"Am I missing something?" Elyssa's neck had stiffened, and her tone was miffed. Turning to his date, Adam explained, "I'm sorry, Elyssa. Caterina's family suffered a great loss a few years ago." As briefly as he could, he explained what had happened. "I'm working with Pettrone and Ludzecky Builders on the new music hall in Queens, and their wives run it now."

Elyssa gave her condolences.

A man rushed up to her. Adam recognized him as a member of the Brooklyn town board, who served as her co-chair. After introductions, he said, "Rafael Castle just came in. Would you be able to meet him now?"

"Of course." She nodded to Caterina. "Excuse me." To Adam she said, "Grab some champagne and keep Ms. Ludzecky company."

Caterina glanced after Elyssa. "You don't have to do that. I can entertain myself."

"I'd like to get to know you better. Maybe you can tell me more about your family."

She frowned. "The O'Neils?"

"No, the Ludzecky family. Why did you ask about them?"

"I'm married to Aidan O'Neil."

"Ah. The former president's brother-in-law."

Adam recalled the story of the famous New York family. Four brothers, and a sister who'd married the now ex-president. He'd read somewhere what each of the brothers did: photographer, journalist and two ran a pub. Called Bailey's. "Of course I know about them. As a matter of fact, I read Dylan and Rachel's book about the family. I've got his others on my TBR pile."

"I don't discuss them with anybody, Adam."

"I'd rather hear about your clan. Tell me about seven girls and one boy growing up in one house."

Her eyes filled with mirth again. "I'll do you one better. Come over here."

They walked down the row of photographs, then turned a corner. And Adam came face-to-face with the woman who'd dominated his thoughts since he told her he didn't want to see her. But there she was with her six stunning sisters. In bridesmaid apparel, each a shade of pink, three graced one side of the bride—Caterina—and three on the other. His gaze focused on the third woman to the left. She wore a strapless, form-fitting deep rose dress. He had no idea she had those kinds of curves. Her hair was chin length then, but as thick and luscious as the rest of her sisters'. "I...I'm speechless. This is a spectacular photograph. Did the groom take it?"

"He insisted on shooting some photos himself."

"It must be valuable."

"Apparently, which is why we donated this one to the Youth Arts Center." She shook her head. "We all think it's silly that someone outside of the family would buy one of our wedding photos. But I guess all of Aidan's work is coveted."

"This one is beautiful."

Caterina regaled him with a few stories about her sisters, which he absorbed intently. He particularly liked the one about Paulina and Antonia playing pranks on their sisters. "But Paulie was the instigator. Though Nia's shy, she did whatever her twin told her to."

"I met her."

"She works at the business, too."

Right then the last bids before dinner were called.

"My cue to leave," Caterina said. "I promised my in-laws I'd be back by eight. They have Katie and Donnie."

Adam's brows rose. "You named your son after Paulina's husband?"

"Yes. My sister-in-law Sophie named her child after Peter."

"How sweet. You and your family must be close."

"Very. It was nice meeting you, Adam."

"More so for me, meeting you. I hope I see you again."

"Perhaps, because of the music hall."

As she walked away, Adam shook his head, his mind filled with the beautiful Ludzecky women. He had a feeling they'd stay in his mind all night.

He walked the exhibit and made sure he bid on a few pieces. Dinner was called, so he headed to a table up front that had been reserved for Elyssa. Several people had already been seated, and he ended up next to someone who again seemed vaguely familiar.

Elyssa touched the man's arm. "Rafael Castle, this is my friend, Adam Armstrong." The man had blue eyes the color of sapphires and curly brown hair. His smile was broad when he said, "The architect? I admire your work."

"Thank you. I'm familiar with yours, too."

"I'm always surprised to hear that."

"Don't be so modest, Rafe." To Adam, Elyssa explained, "He was recently featured as one of New York's up-and-coming artists at the Guggenheim."

"Now there's a beautiful building." Rafe took the emphasis off his own work. Adam did the same thing sometimes.

"The title of your exhibits is clever, Rafe," Elyssa added. "Castle in the Sky." He laughed with ease. "You'd think I decided to paint the skyscapes just to use that line, wouldn't you?"

Shaking his head, Adam said, "Somehow, you seem too down-to-earth for that."

Elyssa cocked her head. "I'm sorry Jonas Crane couldn't attend with you."

"He's under the weather."

"Jonas Crane?" Adam said. "I tried to buy one of his pieces once but didn't get it. You know him?"

"He was my mentor, and much more."

The woman on the other side of Rafe touched his arm. "Mr. Castle, I'd like to talk to you about Lavender Loneliness, the painting you donated."

Dinner was served, and Adam settled in and ate his filet mignon. He listened to officials ask for support for the center. He overheard Elyssa courting the banker next to her, trying to get him to furnish his new building with artwork from the auction. Some of the donors had been asked to say a few words, and when Rafe Castle was called up, he spoke with charm, enthusiasm and confidence. Adam liked him.

Back at the table, Rafe didn't sit down. "Want to see the painting Jonas Crane donated?"

"Of course. Maybe I can get this one."

As they threaded their way through the exhibit, they passed the Aidan O'Neil photograph. Once again, Adam's interest was piqued.

oOo

Planting her feet, adjusting the angle of her body, Paulina held up the bat. The ball flew to her and she swung. The smack was loud, and the sphere bulleted past the pitcher's head. Past the second baseman. And finally beyond the fence. "Yay!" Nia called out from the sidelines.

Two boys also yelled, "Yay, Mommy!"

"Yay, Aunt Paulie!"

Smiling broadly, Paulina took her victory lap in long, powerful strides. As always, the feel of the wind in her hair, the bases under her feet and the joy of victory consumed her. Her teammates waited for her at home plate, and she slapped hands with them. God, she loved sports. Since this was a local-businesses league, Frank was up next and struck out. The other team came in to bat, and hers jogged out to the field. Frank grabbed her hand. "Nice job, Pettrone. You still got it."

"Sure I do. You'll do better next time."

At first base, Paulina situated herself behind the white square, to the left of the other team's base coach.

"Nice hit," the guy said.

"Thanks." Since he was staring at her, she introduced herself. "Paulie Pettrone." "Steve Lowden. I own an electrical business and I'm a friend of Frank's. We grew up together."

"Then you must be okay."

Play at the plate was slow. Paulie tried to keep her mind on the game, until the opposing team finally netted three outs. As it was the bottom of the ninth, Pettrone Partners won.

Thoughts of Donnie when he named the team encompassed her. All the workers here make the company successful. They are our partners. He'd played shortstop, and sometimes, she forgot and looked for him between second and third.

The kids came running out to her after the teams partook of the end-of-the-game protocol. Her guys hugged her, and Salvador hung back. "Did you enjoy the game, sweetie?" Paulina asked the boy.

"Yes, Aunt Paulie."

"No, he didn't." This from Ben, who earned a grimace from Paulina because of his sour tone. "He drew the whole time."

Paulie ruffled Sal's hair. "Maybe you can show the pictures to me when we go get ice cream, honey."

Dark-as-night eyes lit up. Peter's only child had become introverted after his father died. He'd been a sunny two-year-old when his dad was alive, but he'd gone into himself after the accident, as if everybody's grief was too much for him.

Paulina searched for Nia, who'd come to watch, too, and saw her talking to one of the other team's players. She led the kids back to the bleachers to wait for her, but Ben rushed over to his aunt and tugged her away. Paulie heard him say something about ice cream.

When Nia joined them, Paulina asked, "Who were you talking to?"

Her sister's face was flushed, and it wasn't from the early evening sun. "A man from a company we deal with for flooring." Paulie raised her eyes brows. "And?"

"Not now." Nia spoke in a hush.

Ten minutes later, the team gathered at The Ice Age, a shop near the field that sold their favorite custard. They got cones for the kids, and Paulina eased back in line to get hers and Nia's treats. Someone said from behind, "Hello, again."

She turned. "Hi, Steve."

Motioning to the table where Nia sat with the three boys, he said, "Your kids are adorable. Triplets?"

"What? Oh no. Two are mine, twins, and one's my sister's."

"I have a son. He's seven and lives with his mother. Maybe I'll try to bring him to one of my games. Like you did."

"He could sit with ours."

"Hmm." He watched her. "Or, we could take them all for pizza sometime."

"Together?"

"Well, we could sit apart if you want to." His tone was dry, making her realize he'd asked her for a date.

She laughed. "No need." As she'd told Magdalena, she'd wanted to meet some men, so she added, "Yeah, let's do it."

They exchanged phone numbers and Paulina went back to Nia's table.

"Who's that?" her sister asked.

"A guy I met at first base. What did the flooring guy say?"

"Vince Davidson. He asked me out." Her brows knit. "I hedged again. I'm just not ready."

"Nia, this is the second time in a few weeks that you've been invited on a date. We talked about this. You have to try."

"Maybe." She nodded to Steve. "He's cute. But you never liked blond men." "Things change. I've been trying to tell you that." She thought of Steve and then of another blond, Adam Armstrong. She wondered how he was. She hadn't heard from him since he'd made a suggestion about getting together. When she'd showed interest, he'd rebuffed her. It didn't make sense. Paulina wished she could talk to Nia about that, but she didn't feel comfortable doing so.

Watching her children eat their ice cream, she realized that a lot of things hadn't made much sense since Donnie had died. And she was tired of that. She'd have to think of ways to counteract her attraction to the handsome architect. Maybe Steve Lowden was a start.

# Chapter 5

"You can stop stewing now. We're here." Joe swerved into a parking space at the site the Metropolitan Music Hall would occupy and turned around. "I know you hate being late."

"Yes, but there was traffic. It wasn't your fault. Are you staying for the ceremony?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. I can't wait to see that little spitfire again."

That little spitfire had been haunting Adam's dreams, though he couldn't figure out why.

It had been two weeks since he'd met her, and he hadn't heard from her since she'd emailed him.

Why would you? You shot her down.

That was true, though the reasons for it weren't quite as definitive today as he'd felt then. She was still on his mind a great deal of the time.

From a distance, Adam scanned the crowd that had already gathered. But he didn't see Paulina. Was she late, too? There was the borough president of Queens, who among other things, made recommendations for land use and planning. Some people on the borough board he'd met. He recognized a secretary who was competent and quick to get back to him. She was talking to two women, one facing him, one in a tailored beige suit, with long, free-flowing hair down her back. He saw that the other was Paulina. Hair in a braid, as usual, wearing nondescript clothing.

He strode to them. "Hello, ladies."

"Hello, Mr. Armstrong." Up close, he was startled to see this wasn't Paulina. She was her twin, Antonia.

The woman with her back toward him pivoted.

And Adam startled. Speechless, he stared at her. This was Paulina. He recognized the tilt of her chin, the arch of her eyebrows, the full lips. What he hadn't been prepared for were the skeins of blond hair in cascading curls down her back.

"Adam?" she said, her hazel eyes darkening. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, of course." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, I didn't mean to stare."

"At what?"

Stepping closer, he went to reach for a few strands but thankfully realized the inappropriateness of the gesture, out here in public, with all these people around. Instead he pointed. "This."

"My hair?" Her lips parted as she gritted her teeth. "I could kill Nia. I didn't have time to dry my hair—I hate being late—so I twisted it up with a clip. Nia thought it should be down for pictures. So she snatched the clip and hid it from me. Now it's a wild mess."

"Your hair is lovely." He managed to compose himself and turned to Nia. "Why isn't yours down?"

"Too much bother. I like the braid. But she'll be photographed today, and she should look beautiful." Raising her chin, Nia finished, "She hates to fuss, so I decided for her."

"Whatever!" Paulina rolled her eyes. "Change the subject, Nia. All this talk of my appearance is embarrassing me."

He smiled. They were cute together.

"May I have your attention, please?" The borough president's voice boomed over the microphone. Adam had liked working with the guy. He was insightful and understanding of the building process. Surprisingly, he and Adam had agreed on most things as he was drawing up the plans that had then gone to the city for approval, which they'd gotten easily.

"Today is a good day in Queens." He gestured to the blue sky above, with the sun gently beaming down on them. "We're working toward a whole host of buildings to serve the cultural community in our city." He went on to speak of other structures that would be built, and Adam thought of the fundraiser he'd been to at the Tavern on the Green, and Elyssa. But his gaze strayed to Paulina. He liked the way she stood up straight, held her head high, cocked to the side. All that hair mind-boggled him again.

"So, on to the festivities," the president said. "Let's cut the ribbon. Adam Armstrong, our architect, along with Paulina Pettrone, the head of Pettrone and Ludzecky Builders, are here to do the honors."

Adam stepped back so Paulina could precede him. When she stopped to shake the board president's hand, Adam halted close to her. The sweet scent of flowers rose up from her hair, and he couldn't help but inhale it. Something stirred inside of him, and again, he had the urge to touch those luscious locks.

The president stepped back, and Paulina took one set of large scissors, Adam the other. They cut the blue ribbon at the same time, and the crowd applauded. Paulina grinned, and he noticed a little dimple in her cheek.

"Happy about this?" he whispered to her.

"Hmm." Her voice was low...sensual. "Excited."

There were photo ops next. In every one of them, he stood beside her, and once they were told to move even closer, he had to slide his arm around her to fit everyone in the picture. She felt solid, strong, but that damn hair made her so feminine he could barely keep his face impassive.

When the event ended, Nia came up to them. "Congratulations to us all," she said sunnily. Then to Paulina, "I'm heading out. I'll be at work around noon."

"Eat before you come to the site. Corralling thirty kindergarteners is no easy task." She turned to Adam. "Nia's chaperoning a trip to the zoo. Our three boys are going."

"Are they in same class?"

"Yes." Nia's face tightened almost imperceptibly. "They usually break up twins, but after..." Her voice trailed off.

"Because their dads died," Paulina finished, "and they got so close, the school agreed to our request to keep them together."

Nia left, and Adam caught sight of Joe. "Do you have your car?" he asked Paulina. "Joe and I could drop you off."

She waved to Joe. "No, my foreman is picking me up. We're going to visit some suppliers to check out front doors for the house we're building." She glanced at her watch. "Not for a half hour, though." Her gaze strayed to the far end of the property. "I'd like to go out to the yard where the outdoor stage and seating will be. What a great idea."

"Yes, it was." He could hear the smugness in his voice

The woman's eyes narrowed on him, similar to Caterina's the other night and to Nia's just now. "It was your idea, right?"

"Guilty as charged. Come on. I'll go back there with you. Let me just tell Joe."

He accompanied her to the rear of the property, which would eventually hold an outdoor stage behind the music hall when it was built. But the unusual nature of the trees was the eye-catcher. They surrounded the area like a green cocoon, and some jutted out to permit more privacy. A picnic table had been placed in one of the coves.

"What a stunning topography," Paulina commented. "And it's all natural, right?"

"Uh-huh. I fell in love with the grounds right away."

"Me, too, when we first checked them out. They're inspirational."

"Let's sit for minute before your ride comes and enjoy the view." He pointed to the picnic table and they headed toward it. They sat on the same bench, facing outward.

For a moment, he wondered if they had anything to talk about other than the building.

Out of the blue, she asked, "You said you've been to Europe, right?"

"On occasion."

"Have you ever gone to the Rodin Museum in Paris?"

"Yes." He waited but she said no more. "Why?"

"I've only seen pictures, but I was thinking how lovely those outdoor gardens are." She sighed. "Wouldn't it be nice to see sculptures scattered on the sides and back of the stage?"

"It would. Costly, though."

She shrugged a shoulder. "No fund-raising was needed to build the music hall."

"Queens got grants from the National Endowment for the Humanities."

"So maybe we could find a person to plan a fundraiser to buy the first sculpture, then the project might take off. Get a work by somebody famous like Albert Paley or Henry Moore, and maybe some more up-and-coming artists would donate a work."

"You like sculpture?"

"Yeah. My little sister works at the Met, and she got me hooked. I spent hours in the Greek and Roman Gallery, once I discovered it. Then I took a few art history courses and studied Michelangelo and Cellini. Donnie was going to take me to France to see Rodin and others, but we never got around to it before we had kids, so the trip was put on hold."

"Ah. I'm sorry. Sometimes we put things off that should be done in the present."

Adam heard his own words in a different way. Right now, with the sparkle of the sun hitting that lovely hair, with the sky making Paulina's eyes liquid, he knew for certain what he didn't want to delay. When he saw her expression, how she stared up at him, he realized she was thinking the same thing. But she pulled her gaze from him, then stood. "I, um...it's getting late. I have to go." She started away.

Catching her from behind, he turned her around and edged back so they were under the cover of the trees.

He held her by the shoulders, then he lowered his head.

oOo

From the way Adam looked at her when they were seated on the bench, Paulina knew he was going to kiss her, so she tried to leave the backyard. But once he'd stopped her, there was no escaping—because she didn't want to be anywhere else. His mouth touched hers lightly, brushed over her lips, and she savored his taste—coffee and a hint of peppermint, which was soon eclipsed by the essence of him filling her head. After a few seconds, he slid his arms around her and drew her close. She went easily, willingly and fell deeper into the kiss. His tongue explored her mouth, and she allowed it, welcomed it, returned it. His body aligned perfectly with hers, and he pressed his hips in close. He was hard, and she was going damp, and she wanted to weep with the sensation. She missed the scent of a man, his flesh and bones, his unyielding frame. She inhaled him, crooked her head so he could get better access.

She had no idea how long the embrace went on. All she knew was that at some point, they were both stepping back, breathing hard, staring at each other.

"Well!" he said, raking his hand through his hair. She took pleasure in his loss of composure and consequently wasn't embarrassed by hers. "That was unexpected." "Really? You started it."

"That's not what I mean." He arched a brow. "Besides, you wanted it."

"I'm not denying that."

"What I meant was, the contact was intense. Right away, without warning. I'm shocked by my reaction."

Her hand touched her lips as she savored his taste, still on her. "I enjoyed it. But if you didn't, that's okay." Once more, she started away. She didn't have time for games, and if he was rebuffing her again, she didn't want to stick around and get her feelings hurt.

"Hold on!" This time he caught her hand, pulled her around and didn't let go. "Why do you keep running away?"

She took in a deep breath. "I guess because I can't read you. You flirted, asked in an email if we should meet, then said never mind."

"I did."

No hedging. No denial. She liked that. "Why?"

"Because I wasn't sure we should...do anything like this."

"Adam, it was only a kiss."

His expression said it was much more than that.

"But I liked it," she continued. "Still, don't worry. I'm not asking you for anything."

Jamming his hands in his pockets, he rocked back on his heels. "What if I want something?"

"Damn it, Adam, just say what you mean. What you want. I don't have time for or interest in being coy."

"Let's go out."

She watched him.

"You've dated since your husband died, right?"

"No, but recently I made a decision that I wanted to get into the...the swing of things. I'm seeing someone tonight for supper and a movie."

His brows knit together. "Is it serious?"

"I met him on first base."

"Excuse me?"

She laughed at her expression. "At a softball game. I got a hit, and he...never mind all that."

"So, you're a free agent, so to speak."

And would probably stay one. But she'd like to see this man. "I am, but I'm not interested in anything serious. Just some fun." Some hot sex. She didn't say that aloud, thank God. Though she knew one thing: she was attracted to him big-time.

"Have dinner with me this weekend."

"Sofia's taking the boys on Sunday for the day. I could do an early dinner."

"All right. I'll pick you up at five." He added, "Wear something nice, but no ball gowns."

Did he think he had to tell her what to wear? What was all that about? Maybe it was nothing. She just wasn't used to this dating scene. Had never really been in it. He was probably being thoughtful.

"Hey, Paulie, you back here?" Frank's voice came from the end of the yard.

She said, "I have to go."

He grasped her arm again. "Would you wear your hair down Sunday?"

"Maybe. Let's wait and see."

oOo

"So, how'd it go?" Joe asked the question after Paulina left and Adam went to the car.

"The ribbon cutting? You were there."

"No, I mean afterwards when you followed Paulina to the backyard."

"Could you see us from the street?" God, he hadn't thought of that. He hadn't thought of anything but how she fit him perfectly, how she wanted him.

"At the picnic table. Then you dragged her into a bunch of trees that covered you. But you should be more careful if you don't want spectators to see what you do." He glanced in the rearview mirror and started the car. "What did you do?"

"None of your business."

"I can fill in the blanks."

"Just take me downtown, please. I don't want to talk about this yet."

"Sure thing, boss."

When Joe dropped him at his building, Adam went upstairs and into his office. Until now, he'd resisted the urge, but today, he strode to the storage area built in behind the whole left wall. From it, he took a rectangular-framed photo, two feet by three feet. Bringing it to the sitting area, he rested it against the back of the couch and sat across from it.

And stared at the lovely faces of the Ludzecky sisters. One in particular. And he noticed something. Not only was her hair shorter but her whole demeanor, even just standing there, was different. She seemed relaxed, despite the formal occasion, and there was mischief in her eyes, as if she was just about to whisper something naughty to one of her sisters. And those eyes were clearer, brighter. But the biggest thing was she looked younger. The wedding had been only a few years ago, but in the photo, Paulina could have passed for a teenager. No longer. Nobody could mistake the sad wisdom that had taken up permanent space in her eyes.

It made him feel so bad, he had to tear his gaze away from the photo. It also made him resolve not to add to the grim expression—ever!

I'm not looking for anything serious.

That was good. It would be easier to keep the relationship upbeat if they had pleasant, no-strings-attached times together. At least she wouldn't get hurt that way.

# Chapter 6

Her brother, Lukasz, stood on the blacktop in the backyard of the Ludzecky home, a basketball poised in his hands, ready to shoot. His smile was cocky and his muscular body exuded self-confidence. "So, catch me up on your life, sis."

Paulina waited under the basket, ready to rebound. "Is that why you dragged me out here? To grill me?"

"Uh-huh. The others'll tease you. I just want to know what's goin' on."

She glanced toward the house. Since the guys had died, the Ludzecky siblings tried to have dinner once a week. Luke was farthest away, so he didn't get here every time, but today he'd given his wife a break and brought his girls down for an overnight. Magdalena didn't attend regularly, either. She was often brokering seven figure deals or working until the wee hours of the morning. Tonight, five of them had come.

She watched Luke. She trusted him as much as she'd trusted Donnie, and she could use some advice. "I had a date. With a guy in our softball league."

Her brother took the shot, and from under the basket, Paulina caught the ball and threw it back.

"He nice?"

She thought of Steve Lowden, and how he'd been a perfect gentleman, how he liked to talk about sports and television shows and his kid. They'd had fun, but Paulina hadn't felt any chemistry with him. Not like her response to Adam.

"Yeah, you know, easy."

Luke growled in his throat. "Easy is the kiss of death for a guy. We wanna be mysterious, difficult to read." He took another shot. "It lures women to come back for more."

She wrinkled her nose. "Not what I felt with Steve."

"He kiss you?"

"TMI, Luke."

"The hell it is." He threw the ball down and crossed to her. He was taller than her and always made her fell small, protected. Gently, he grasped her upper arms. "You've mourned long enough and you deserve to have a full life. That includes lots of kissing and what comes after it."

She deflated. They all did when Luke went soft on them. Poor Kelsey, his wife. She didn't stand a chance when he was in this coaxing mode. "Truthfully, I want that, too." She peered up at him. "A lot."

He led her to the picnic table off the blacktop. It reminded her of sitting on the one at the music hall property with Adam. Who'd kissed her senseless. "Talk to me, honey."

"I have another date. With someone else."

Blondish eyebrows arched. "You work fast. Maybe you don't need my advice."

"No, I do. He's the architect on the new music hall."

"Conflict of interest?"

"I hadn't even thought of that."

"So, what's got you concerned?"

"He seems interested sometimes and sometimes not. Plus we're from two different worlds."

"I assume you're talkin' about wealth and status. Does that bother you?"

"No, I don't care about that crap. I am who I am. But a couple of times, I got the feeling that our differences were important to him."

"Is he nice to you?"

"Very. And flattering." She thought of the expression on his face when he'd seen her hair down. "And he's not easy."

"Paulina, I love you dearly, but that doesn't color my view of you. Any man would be lucky to have you in his life. You're kind to everybody, and good-hearted, even in your grief. To hell with different life styles. Go after what you want."

She gave him a little sister grin. "Like you went after Kelsey?"

A former Secret Service agent, Luke had been undercover as a high school student and his now wife had been his teacher. "Once she knew my real identity, yep, that's exactly what I did." He winked at her. "And I got her."

"I'll think about it. Thanks for the advice, Lukasz."

After the pep talk, they headed inside to find Luke's two girls wrestling with Tommy and Ben in the family room. Luke got right in the middle of it, so the four kids turned on him.

Paulina went to the dining room, where she found her sisters and...well, when did he get here?

Nia leaned over. "He came while you were outside. Matka invited him for dessert."

"Huh."

Gerald Callahan sat close to Matka, who'd dressed in a pretty skirt and blouse tonight. For him? Paulina watched as Callahan touched her hand when they spoke to each other. Then he noticed Paulina. "Here's Paulina. Who won the basketball game?"

"Hello, Gerald. We were just shooting baskets."

"I would've won if it was a game," Luke called out from the family room.

"How quickly they forget." She'd beaten Luke many times.

"Nice to see you again."

"You, too, Gerald." Tonight, and the first time she'd met him, she'd thought he looked familiar. Tall, thin, with graying hair that had a lot of dark in it, he was handsome.

"Do I have egg on my face? Something in my teeth?" His tone was teasing.

"Sorry for staring. But you remind me of someone."

"That movie star you're probably too young to remember, Richard Crenna." This from Matka. "I finally figured it out."

Somewhat battered, Luke entered the dining room. Held out his hand. "I'm Luke." He gestured to his sisters. "The thorn among these beautiful flowers."

"Luke. Nice to meet you."

Sitting down, Luke glanced at Paulina. He winked at her. "So, Gerald, fill me in on yourself. Who are you, and what are your intentions with my mother?"

Matka blushed and everyone else laughed out loud. It was about time Luke picked on somebody besides his sisters, but poor Gerald.

"I recently retired from my software firm and left my sons in charge," Gerald told him. "I just brought a place in Hampton Bays but still have an apartment in the city. I'm sixty years old."

Paulina thought, Talk about different worlds.

"And," he added as he slid his arm around Matka, "My intentions toward your mother are forming as we speak."

oOo

After Gerald left and the kids were settled in bed, Nia excused herself from Sofia, Luke, Matka and Paulie and went to her room. She was sad and she knew why. Everybody but her was moving on. Even her mother. Truth be told, Nia thought that had been too long in coming. Matka had dedicated herself to her children, more so after their dad died. Just like Nia herself. Was she, too, going to wait twenty-five years to change her life, make it better?

Thoughts of Peter intruded. On their wedding night...

I love you so much, Nia. You're my whole world. Unlike Paulie, she'd wanted to wait until they were married to make love. Peter had agreed, of course, as always, recognizing her shyness, her introversion. But along the way, he'd laughingly coaxed her into clothes off and some hot petting while they were still in high school, which she'd enjoyed. Now she wished she'd slept with him at sixteen, as Paulie had done with Donnie.

She stared at herself in the mirror. "You're an idiot. These kinds of memories are only going to hold you back."

What to do? Tonight, she felt as if she had to change something. Rising, moving to the computer, Nia sat down and called up an email address for Vince Davidson, the man who owned an electrical firm. He'd been nice to her in all their dealings and at the game, too. Gritting her teeth, she went into her work address book and got his contact information. She opened a new email. "Hi, Vince," she wrote. "Any interest in a date if I've changed my mind?" Without rereading it, she moved her cursor to send.

She stared at the blinking cursor. Closed her eyes.

And when she opened them, she pressed delete.

Raising her gaze to the ceiling, she said, "Give me strength, God, to get out of this rut." No divine intervention came from heaven, though, so she stood and headed to the bathroom.

oOo

Adam looked at his hand. A flush. In five-card stud, that was more than a winner. Around a poker table in the basement of the Corleone house in the Bronx, Joe's brothers and father were still in the game, and it was Adam's turn to raise. "I'm in for one and upping you two."

Joe's youngest brother said, "Shit, I'm out." The next oldest followed him.

With a gleam in his eye, Joe met the bid. And Gus, Joe's dad, raised. Adam's gaze narrowed on the older man. Still in great shape at seventy, he had a big build and sharp eyes.

"Don't believe you got it, Gus. I match the bet and call."

"When will you young ones learn?" Shaking his head, Gus laid his cards down. A straight flush.

"How the hell...?"

"You counted the cards." His sons were used to his devious methods.

"I might have," he confessed.

"All right, boys," Joe's mother, Patrice, called down the cellar steps from the kitchen. "Time for a break. I have snacks out."

Adam knew from previous visits here what snacks in this Italian household meant. Sure enough, when he got upstairs, he found crusty homemade pizza, its spicy scent filling the kitchen, piping-hot calzones, pepperoni bread and antipasto half the size of the table. Often, Adam could barely keep his pants buttoned when he left this house, and tonight would be a repeat.

After feasting on the food, Adam went outside for some air and found Joe sitting alone on the stoop. "You got that big wonderful family in there and you're out here. Why?"

"They drive me nuts sometimes. All talking at once."

Adam said, "I love it."

"Glad to hear that."

Suspicious, he asked "What do you mean?"

"Little Miss Spitfire's got a huge clan."

"Whoa, there. It's only a date." He'd told his friend he was seeing Paulina, but he would drive himself that night. "You're right, though. Your family is probably a lot like hers."

"Then maybe I should take her out."

"Like hell!" Adam stared at the trees, which blew gently in the early evening breeze.

"But I'm worried about our...differences." Joe was silent.

"Joey?"

"You're not bein' a snob now, are you, Adam?"

"I hope not. I'm just concerned we live in two different worlds."

"People who like each other create their own worlds."

"Yes, I guess. You're right. And anyway, it's just a date. I shouldn't worry about it now."

"Nope, and have fun." He stood when someone called out that the guys were ready to return to the game. "One thing, though, Mr. Armstrong. If you hurt her, I might have to get my extended family after you."

Adam joked back, but inside his stomach tightened. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Paulina Pettrone. God knew she'd had enough heartache in her young life. He tried to shake off the thought, but it bothered him as he played cards the rest of the night.

oOo

She didn't fuss. And she told Nia she didn't want company while she got ready for her date. Choosing a pretty blue dress that nipped at the waist and flared out around her knees, with sleeves to her elbows, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror and touched her hair. Down or pulled back?

Would you wear your hair down Sunday?

Why not? She brushed it out then twisted some locks on the sides and clipped them on each side of her head so her hair didn't fall in her face. Magdalena had bought a bunch of makeup for her and Nia, and after brushing on some rouge and applying lipstick, she studied herself in the mirror. "This is as good as it gets."

Turning, she walked out of the bathroom and...heard a tear. Damn it, the skirt of the dress had caught on the door edge and ripped. Oh, hell. She liked this dress, felt pretty in it. But she couldn't wear rags.

Wear something nice, but no ball gowns.

Quickly going to her closet, she found another outfit: not quite as pretty. But it was pink, and the two pieces flattered her figure. She had to change shoes, so she wasn't downstairs in time to answer the doorbell. She reached the foyer of the house and found Adam talking with Matka.

"Sorry, I meant to be here when you came, to make introductions."

Adam gave her an easy smile. "We managed without you." His gaze went back to Matka. "I hope we get to know each better, Mrs. Ludzecky."

Matka raised her chin. "We'll see, Mr. Armstrong." Turning to Paulina, she said, "You're lovely, kochanie."

"Thanks, Matka." She held her purse and sweater close. "See you later."

The day had been warm but now was cooling down, and a small breeze ruffled Adam's hair. He kept his hand at her back. Paulina had forgotten the feeling of that male protective gesture. She still liked it.

"Oh," she said when she saw his car. "Where's Joe?"

"Sometimes I drive myself, especially on personal occasions."

They reached the silver Porsche just as the wind picked up, and she went to put on her sweater. "Damn."

"You okay? You seem rattled."

"Sorry. I ripped the first dress I put on, just before you arrived." She held up the sweater. "This matched the other one." But she slid it on anyway. "Now I look like Easter eggs—pink and blue."

"Your mother was right. You look lovely."

She scanned him. "You, too."

"I spilled coffee all over the shirt I planned to wear tonight. So I'm not exactly put together, either."

She laughed. "Yeah, I don't usually care about those things."

"I'm afraid I care too much. About appearances."

"It's a hard thing to ignore."

"How do you? Ignore it?"

"We were brought up valuing other things. Even when Pa was alive, there was never enough money for new clothes, the latest sneakers. Matka worked hard to make us see family and friends and what we did in life was more important than our looks."

"That's nice. My parents were great but took pleasure in extravagances."

"There's nothing wrong with that, Adam."

Like the gentleman he was, he opened the car door for her. Once she was settled, he got in on his side and headed out. Paulina watched the road ahead and wondered if she believed what she'd told him. Did she think people concerned about appearances were shallow? Actually, she'd never had reason to think about it. "Want music?"

"Sure."

"What do you like?"

"Anything."

He turned on classical jazz. She never listened to it but liked the sound, especially of the saxophone. It reminded her of Luke practicing it in their childhood. After about ten minutes, drops of rain started to fall on the windshield. They drove farther to the lulling back-and-forth whisper of the wipers.

"The restaurant is up ahead," he said. They pulled into the parking lot. Before he parked, the heavens opened up and it began to pour.

"An April storm," he uttered. "Wouldn't you know?"

"I like walking in the rain."

"Really?"

"Yep. Matka used to let us play in it if there was no lightning out."

He shut off the engine. "I'm sorry, I don't see valet parking tonight. They usually have the service."

"Cutali's. I think I've heard of the place."

"Shall we sit the rain out?"

"Sure."

They made small talk until the drops dwindled.

"I'll go get an umbrella."

"No, Adam, that's not necessary."

"Sit tight." He exited the car and strode to the door. Paulina watched as he made his way through puddles. Then—oh dear Lord in heaven!—his feet slid out from beneath him. Without thinking, she bounded out of the passenger side and hurried over to him. Where she promptly slipped, too, and came down right in a puddle, which splattered all over them both.

oOo

Tony, the owner of Cutali's, handed them each a towel when they finally made it to the back door in one piece. He led them into a small break room and said, "I'll be right back."

Paulina's pink outfit had turned a muddy beige, and Adam's suit was soaked from the pants down. His shirt had gotten drenched, too, when she'd fallen on top of him, and he'd taken it off to dry himself. Despite the circumstances—Paulina didn't know whether to joke or be serious— she was mesmerized by the muscles of his chest, how the darker hair meandered over it. She hadn't expected him to be so buff. Her whole body reacted to all that gorgeous male flesh.

"You're staring."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. I like it." He grinned. Then sniffed. "Do we smell?"

"I can't tell. Magdalena always says it's hard to see the picture when you're inside the frame. I think that covers mud and grime." She giggled.

"You think this is funny, woman?"

"A little."

"Our date is ruined."

She sobered. "Only if we let it be, Adam."

He took a bead on her, making her nervous. He lifted her chin and wiped a smudge of dirt off her nose with his shirt. "You're completely right about that. I need to think more like you, Paulina. We'll try to salvage the evening."

Tony returned. She'd found out when Adam was comfortable coming through the back entrance that he and the owner were longtime friends. "One of my daughters lives upstairs with her husband." He held up a navy sweat suit for Adam and jeans and a long shirt for her. "Will these do? I'm afraid the kids don't keep up with the laundry, so this is all that's clean."

"It'll do for me." She grabbed the clothes. "Thank you. I'm wet and cold."

Tony directed her to the bathroom. Inside, she stripped off the soggy clothes—bra and panties included—and put on what Tony's daughter had provided. She absolutely refused to wear the dirty underwear even if it was obvious she was braless. It couldn't be helped. The outfit was a size too big, so she rolled up the sleeves and jeans and looked in the mirror. "Oh, geez." She wiped off her face. "At least I'm not grimy anymore." But her hair was wet from the rain and wouldn't dry anytime soon. She unclasped the sides and fluffed it out with her hands. Most of her makeup had been washed away.

She returned to the break room to find Tony gone. Adam had changed into the sweat suit. She burst out laughing.

"Don't," he warned.

"It's...a little small." The pants were halfway up his calves, the top barely covering his abs, the sleeves a foot short.

"At least yours are big." His eyes lingered on her chest. Uh-oh. Suddenly she felt self-conscious.

"If you're miserable, you can take me home and we can try this another time."

He watched her, as if deciding something. "Do you want to do that?"

"I'm fine. You seem uncomfortable."

"You hungry?"

"Famished."

"Maybe Tony will let us eat back here?" He motioned to the break room. "You up for that?"

"I am," she said, liking the choice he'd made.

oOo

As Adam walked her to the door, he let his hand drift to the small of her back and stay there, press into her. "This wasn't quite what I had in mind, but it worked out. At least I could feed you."

She bit her lip and nodded to the too-small shirt. "Sorry about the beer."

"Yeah, kinda fit the night, though."

Paulina had asked for beer with the gnocchi Tony had served them, and Adam said he'd join her in having one. When he'd opened the bottle, the liquid had spurted all over his chest.

"You have to admit all of this was funny, Adam."

"I admit it in spades," he said smiling. "And your attitude made the whole thing enjoyable." They reached the front porch and turned to each other. "So," he said, peering down at her. In the light from the small lamppost, he could see her eyes were full of mirth. "Do you want to try this again? Maybe I can make a better impression on you."

Cocking her head, she studied him. Then surprised him by looping her arms around his neck and moving closer. "Truthfully, Adam, tonight was a relief. I was nervous about going out with you."

He didn't pretend to misunderstand. "I was nervous, too." He brushed her hair out of her eyes. It was still damp. But it had curled some and was even thicker than the last time he saw it down. "Maybe this has an upside. Another date couldn't be worse than this one."

She placed her fingers on his mouth. They were warm. "Hush. You know as soon as you say that, it'll happen."

"Nah."

"The Polish are superstitious."

"Yeah?" He cuddled her closer. "Tell me some."

She fitted herself to him. "Okay, but not now. I don't want to talk now."

"What do you want, Paulina?" His voice was pitched low and curled inside her. "A kiss. Like the last one." Her eyebrows raised. "It was pretty hot and I've been thinking about it since then."

"Me, too," he murmured. "I've been thinking about it, too."

His mouth closed over hers and he felt a jolt go through him. He lifted her up so her toes left the ground, held her tight against him and devoured her mouth. He lost himself in the sensations of her. When he finally let her back down, once again, they were both breathing hard.

"Wow!" she said. "That was better than the other one."

He threaded his hands through her hair. He had to touch it. Feel its heavy weight and texture. "It was. Makes you wonder what the whole shebang would be like, doesn't it?"

She laughed at him. Heartily and unselfconsciously. "The whole shebang? I never heard it called that."

His eyes narrowed at her teasing and he met her forehead with his. "It makes me wonder what being inside you would be like." There was sex in his voice.

"Oh, God."

It was his turn to laugh. "So, answer my question. Another date?"

"Yes. Yes. Yes."

"Check your schedule and I'll check mine. I'll text you soon."

She ran her hand down his cheek. "I hope it isn't too long."

"We'll make sure it isn't."

"Good night, Paulina."

"Good night, Adam."

He waited until she got into the house and then walked to the car in the now-dry evening. Once inside, he sat and stared at the Ludzecky home. This was by far the worst date he'd ever had in his life. But, in some ways, it had been the best. Adam would have to think about that. And the differences between him and Paulina. Because right now, a part of Adam wished he was more like her.

# Chapter 7

"This isn't too bad, is it?" Paulina asked.

She and Nia had planned a special evening for the night of the father-son campout, even though it was a weekday. The kids were off school tomorrow for a teacher workshop day.

"It's okay, Mommy." This from Tommy, always her easiest.

"Yeah, it's okay," Ben put in. Under his breath, he added, "Poor fatherless children." Both Nia and Paulina recoiled. Nia asked, "Where did you hear that?"

"One of the youth group leaders said it to the other one. She wasn't mean, though. She felt sorry for us."

"She should have been careful that you didn't hear, honey." This from Paulina.

"Why?" Ben took a bead on his mother and aunt. "It's true."

"Is it always going to be true?" Tommy asked.

Sal's eyes rounded. "What does that mean, Mommy?"

Ben socked his cousin in the arm. "Maybe our moms'll get married again."

"Not my mom. She loves my daddy." He glanced at Nia. "Right, Mommy?"

"How did we get on this?" Paulina intervened. She didn't want her sister making any promises she'd regret. "Now, whose movie should we see first?"

Ben, of course, said, "Mine." Hell, how did you teach a kid who had not a speck of altruism in his little body to be more giving? Donnie would have known. He was always so considerate of others.

Sal sighed and Tommy looked away.

Paulina took Ben's hand. "Come help me get the pizza first, and we'll decide when we get back." Out in the kitchen, she turned to her son. "Ben, do you realize you always ask to go first."

"Yeah. The other kids don't care."

"I think they do care but are afraid to tell you or are unselfish enough to let it go."

Suddenly, Ben's eyes filled.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

"I wanted to go on that trip. Sometimes when I'm mad, I wanna go first or say mean things."

Paulina picked up the boy and sat him on the counter so they were eye to eye. "It's okay to admit you're mad. Say it out loud. Then maybe you won't grab for first or make mean comments."

"'Kay." He scrubbed at his face. "Sorry."

"Just remember that for next time."

"No, tonight. We can watch the Disney movie Sal likes."

"That's my boy."

She lifted him into her arms. He held on to her. Luxuriating in the hug, she clung to him, then set him down and turned to the pizza.

Ben asked, "So, are you?"

Going to the oven, she said, "Am I what?"

"Ever gonna get married again."

Oh, Lord. She peered down at him. "Tell me the truth. Would you want me to?"

"Uh-huh. If we all liked him."

Hmm, would they like Adam? Would he like them? She and Adam never had discussed anything about introducing him to her children. Of course, they hadn't. They didn't know each other well. Except, of course, to want to jump each other's bones.

Which fit nicely into her no-strings-attached attitude toward recreational sex. Nah, no need to introduce him to her kids for that.

oOo

The next day, Paulina watched as a cement truck poured concrete into the basement frames. She loved seeing the foundation go in, then the skeleton erected. She'd once told Donnie that a house going up was like giving birth in stages. He'd laughed and told her that was why women shouldn't be in building, they were too sentimental. She'd thrown a bucket of sawdust at him, and it had taken days to get out of his hair.

Smiling as the grind of the mixers stopped, she heard behind her, "Good morning." The purr of Adam's voice wended its way inside her. She straightened her back so a shiver wouldn't go up it.

Pivoting, she took in his pristine beige spring suit and crisp white shirt. Just for a minute, she regretted the...boyish...nature of her jeans and flannel shirt over a tee. "Good morning. I'm surprised to see you."

"I figured this phase would be over by ten." He held up a cup. "I brought you coffee."

"Super." She took it from him, sipped. And spit it out. "Ugh."

"What's wrong?"

"The coffee's so sweet."

"Mocha-flavored latte."

"That's not coffee."

His brows narrowed. "You're welcome."

"Oh, sorry. It's just that it tastes like dessert, and I don't like anything sweet in the morning."

Moving in closer, he tucked back a strand of hair that had gotten loose from her braid. "What do you like in the morning, Paulina?" His blue eyes had turned liquid, like the sea. This time, the shiver won.

"I like a lot of things." She arched a brow. "I guess you'll just have to find out for yourself."

"I'm here to see the foundation and talk about that." He glanced at the building. "God, I love this stage—where the drawings take shape, the structure starts to grow."

"I feel exactly the same."

"It should be dry by tomorrow. Will you start the joists and floor then?"

She glanced up at the sky. "Yeah, if it doesn't rain." She frowned. "I hope it stays clear. The boys have their first soccer game tonight."

"Ah, so you're not free? I was hoping you were."

"Did you drive all the way out here to ask?"

"And to see the base."

"I'm going to be busy with these games twice a week now, and with practice two other nights."

For some reason, that irked Adam. She hadn't told him about her sons' games. If he'd known, he wouldn't have given in to the urge to see her. "I see."

"Adam, you were supposed to text me dates you were available." There was a note of annoyance in her voice.

"I know." He looked back at the building site. Okay, this was stupid. He had no reason to be mad. "What's your first free night?"

"Saturday would be best."

He was busy. He had a date with Elyssa to take her to yet another fundraiser. "I can't do that."

"I could make Friday work. Nia has a PTA meeting, but I could ask Ana to take the boys."

He wasn't free, but he could change those plans. For a moment, he watched her. She was beautiful in the spring morning, the sun catching the highlights in her hair, the sky behind her making her eyes a lighter brown. "I have to change some things. All right, let's do Friday."

Her delighted smile was worth the effort, and she touched his arm, squeezed it. "Great. But this one's my treat."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm paying for the meal and I'll decide the place."

She was ingenuous in many ways. He had so much more money than she... "That's not necessary. I can afford a meal."

"As can I. No dice without it."

Adam wondered briefly if she was always this stubborn. "Fine."

"I'll text you with the place when I choose it." She scanned his body. "And tell you what to wear." She seemed amused by her comment and he didn't know why.

"You're on." He leaned over.

She jerked back. "What are you doing?" she whispered harshly.

Shit. He'd forgotten they were on the site. He raked a hand through his hair. "Something totally inappropriate. Sorry. You make me lose common sense, sometimes."

"I do?" She blushed. "I like that."

"I'm getting out of here. See you in few days."

Adam walked away. This must be what compromise between couples was all about. He'd never had to think much about it as women he saw mostly went along with whatever he wanted.

He wasn't sure he liked meeting her halfway. But he knew one thing. He liked her, a lot!

oOo

At Serenity Yoga Studio in downtown Queens, Paulina watched her sister Sofia take her place on the instructor's mat. Her expression was soft and gentle, like the woman herself. "We'll start with pranayama. Breathe in slowly. Breathe out. Now repeat."

Once or twice a month since Sofia had bought Serenity Yoga, she held a class for her sisters—whoever could make it—and then they went out to breakfast afterwards. The commitment was taken seriously by them all, so at least some of them got to see each other. Since the session started at 7:00 a.m., Paulina and Nia were only a bit late to work. Matka got the kids on the bus. The other girls came out from the city when they could. Ana made it when Jared had their daughter overnight, like today.

"Move to all fours. Spinal waves will stretch your muscles. Hunch your back like an angry cat." They did. "Now drop your belly like a cow and inhale."

"Hmm, most days I feel like the cat," Ana joked.

"Hush, no talking, big sister."

They continued the more sedate poses until they were sufficiently warmed up. Then Sofia said, "Next are standing poses. We'll start with a sequence: downward dog, then go to triangle pose, reverse triangle and half-moon. We'll hold each one at least a minute."

Paulina stood, her feet hip distance apart. Then she bent over in a jackknife-like pose, with her hands at the other end of the mat. She stretched her calves until she could straighten them and get the right slope to her back. Ana did the pose expertly—she'd probably been practicing at home—but Nia had trouble shifting her weight for her legs to hold her up. They finished that routine, then sat on the mats.

Since Paulina liked challenging herself, she asked, "Sofia, can we do headstands?"

Nia groaned at the request and flopped on her back spread eagled, or in yoga-ease, savasana. "I'm not doing headstands. We're too old for that." At their askance expression, she added. "I'm going right into savasana, and don't try to stop me."

"Chicken," Ana quipped, and Sofia threw a pillow at her.

Sofia set up Paulina and Ana on blankets and helped them situate themselves. Ana didn't need a spotter and got up alone in seconds. Sofia stood by as Paulina kicked off and went up with some assistance from her sister. She braced her legs against the wall to get her balance, then eased them away to fully straighten her legs, pointing her toes toward the ceiling. "Yes!" she said and kept the pose for a minute. So did Ana.

All four then relaxed in savasana and let the mellow music from the CD player wash over them. At the end, they gathered their stuff and left the studio.

"I can't do breakfast today," Ana said as she stepped outside. "I have a meeting at work.

Sorry."

Sofia kissed her cheek. "We'll miss you."

One of the best places in Queens to eat breakfast was a diner within walking distance called Ham and Eggs. They snagged a spot by the open window. Since the weather was warming up, they got to watch people walking by.

After they were served coffee and had ordered, Sofia asked, "How's Ana? She seemed hyper today."

"I think she's okay." Paulina was thoughtful. "But sometimes she has a lot of nervous energy. Since the divorce, I guess."

"I could give her lessons to calm herself more regularly."

"That would be great," Nia put in. "If she'll let you."

Paulina took a bead on her sister. "What's new, Sof?"

"Let's see. The first quarter of the year has been profitable. I've had to hire two more teachers for the second."

"Wow." Nia grasped her fingers. "And here you were worried you wouldn't be able to take over."

When Sofia had been diagnosed with leukemia, she'd turned to yoga instead of dance. At eighteen she'd become an instructor, and after seven years at the same studio, the woman who owned it had been ready to sell. With signatures from Magdalena and Luke and with the money Sofia had saved, she'd managed a down payment and a mortgage.

Paulina added "You don't have enough self-confidence, honey."

"I'm getting there." She winked at Nia. "You're my role model, Paulie."

Paulina knew the family thought she had the self-esteem of a prince, which was mostly true, though with Adam sometimes...

Sofia didn't notice her train of thought had trailed off and went on, "I might be teaching some yoga classes at our old high school. It'll open up a whole new income stream."

Nia's brows raised. "Seriously? They do that now?"

"Yeah. Physical education has lots of extras. Life skills that kids can keep up later. Not many play basketball after they graduate."

"Except Paulie."

"Yeah, Donnie and I had fun with that."

Grasping her hand, Nia said, "And now you play with Luke."

"Yep."

The waitress came, and Sofia ordered egg whites and fruit. Paulina had a breakfast plate with pancakes, eggs and bacon. Nia wanted coffee and grapefruit. Paulina often thought how what each of them ate was symbolic of their personalities.

"Any news with you two?" Sofia asked, biting into an orange slice. The girl was delicate, with the straightest hair of any of them, surrounding her like a cloak, bigger eyes, too, and full, pouty lips.

"The boys' coach asked Nia out. And a guy in the softball league I play in did, too."

"Did you go?"

"No. I was going to, but couldn't make myself do it. I guess I'm not ready to date."

Sofia reached out and grasped Nia's hand. "I'm sorry, Nia, but I understand."

"Thanks, sis. Paulie pushes me because she's dating."

Sofia's eyes got even bigger. "Seriously?"

"We've had one date. And I got to know him through the music hall before that. I asked Nia not to say anything, but it's okay to share now."

"Why wouldn't you want me to know?"

"I wasn't sure if dating him would even get off the ground." She gave Sofia a kind smile. "You tend to worry about me even more than Nia and Ana."

Sofia took in a breath and let it out slowly. "Yeah, I guess. Because of the past." When her sister had had leukemia at sixteen, Paulina had been the one to donate bone marrow that saved her life. Usually, donors were required to be eighteen, but Sofia had been really sick and so the hospital officials allowed Paulina to do it at fourteen.

Paulina cocked her head. "I thought we weren't going to feel guilt or resentment over this, sweetie."

"We're not." Sofia's smile was genuine. "I know I would have done it for you. Though I do have a right to be grateful. Now, tell me about the guy."

"I'm seeing him again Friday. I like him."

"But? There's caution in your tone."

"Because I'm uncomfortable with him sometimes. We're different." She thought of her down-to-earth husband. "He's nothing like Donnie."

"It's not that serious, is it?" Nia asked. "Just a few dates."

"Oh, it's not. But...let's just see how it all shakes out."

They said good-bye to their sister, and when they reached the site, they went into the office. Nia got to work on the computer and Paulina changed clothes and went out to the site. The guys were putting in the beams in the basement of the music hall, and would start on the frame soon. Inhaling the scent of the wood, she nodded. Now this was her wheelhouse. Here she felt comfortable.

She helped the workers move some lumber until noon, and by then the effects of the stretching this morning had diminished. She was sore, so she went to the back and lay out flat on the picnic table, staring up at the sky. Again, she thought of how much she liked the setting, pictured the stage already built and thought about the sculpture garden.

Then her thoughts took a personal turn. She remembered Adam drawing her to him, kissing her here and how she'd forgotten her name in the process. Then her mind traveled to the night on her front porch and how she'd longed for his kiss, his touch and much, much more. God, her hormones were getting the better of her. The thought made her happy, so she took out her phone and texted Adam. Her fingers flew on the tiny keyboard.

Meet me at the music hall site at six o'clock on Friday. Wear really casual clothes. Looking forward to it.

In minutes, her phone chimed.

Looking forward it, too. Actually, that's an understatement, lady. I've been waiting all week long. Did you think about me?

Yep.

And?

I've been waiting, Adam. For a long time. Paulina let the cryptic remark stand. She knew what she meant, even if he didn't.

oOo

Adam stood on the manicured green and examined the distance from his ball to the hole.

The soft breeze from the trees surrounding the course soothed him.

Behind him, his dad said, "This is an easy one, kiddo."

"For you, maybe. Putting's always my downfall."

Cheerfully, his father nodded. "You'll beat me if you make this putt, you know." Adam grinned, took a practice stroke then hit the ball.

It missed the hole.

His father laughed out loud as Adam tapped his ball in and retrieved it. "You did that on purpose, Pops."

Drew Armstrong winked. "Maybe. Do you have time for lunch?"

"Yes. I have an appointment at two, but there's plenty of time since we started so early." They headed for the clubhouse.

Taking an outside table on the patio of the Ocean View Golf Course on Long Island, where they both belonged, his father ordered a beer but Adam went for ice water.

His dad studied him. "So, tell me why you left your phone on and took texts when we played. We usually turn them off. Got a deal going?"

He didn't know what he had going with Paulina. "Remember we talked about the female builder, Paulina Ludzecky?"

"Yes, of course. You said she wasn't on your mind."

"She is now. A lot."

"So you're seeing her?"

"Um-hum. We have a date on Friday. The texts were from her, giving me the place and time."

His father frowned. "What about Elyssa, son?"

"What about her?"

"Doesn't she think you're exclusive?"

"We never discussed that. I like her, but most of the time, our relationship seems to be a convenience. Socially and sexually, I guess. For us both, I assumed."

"I'd make sure she understands what you just told me. I don't have that impression, and sometimes, you don't see how women feel about you."

"I didn't with Bethany. Since then I've kept my relationships..."

"Superficial?"

"Maybe."

"Is it serious with the Ludzecky woman?"

"I doubt it will last. I'm worried about how different we are, but God, Dad, I like being with her. But I don't know if we can fit into each other's lives. She's got twins, is committed to her family and..." He trailed off. "I don't know why I'm going on like this. We've only been together a few times."

"Doesn't take long when you're attracted to someone."

"Says the man who courted my mother for a month, then whisked her off to England for a wedding."

"Ah, those were the days. But I knew right away. We had everything in common."

"Hence my apprehension." He shook his head. "Let's table this. I don't want to dwell on her. I just want to enjoy our lunch."

"Fine. But first let me say that you're thirty-seven years old. You like this woman. See what happens. But first, give some thought to what's going on with Elyssa, too. Clarify it with her when you have a better handle on your feelings for Paulina."

Adam supposed his father was right. He probably hadn't thought about his situation with Elyssa because he didn't want to be serious about Paulina.

And that startled him. He hadn't known he was thinking along those lines. Problem was, he wasn't sure if he had a choice in the matter.

# Chapter 8

Pulling up in her truck at the music hall site, Paulina shut off the engine and marveled at the silence on the grounds. Usually saws buzzed and rattled, carpenters shouted and hammering filled up the space. Now it was like watching a baby sleep.

Show me your baby, she'd said to Adam. They might be different in a lot of important ways, but they saw the building process in the same way.

Exiting her car, she headed for the trailer, got out some lawn chairs and blankets they kept there and brought them to the backyard of the building site. She returned to her vehicle and popped the trunk, removed a large picnic basket and wine and beer stowed in a cooler. Balancing them in each hand, she walked around the foundation to the picnic table out back. As it was only five thirty, the sky was sunny and birds chirped from the nearby trees—the trees where Adam had kissed her senseless. She set the bounty on the bench and opened the picnic basket. Tucked in here were some things she may or may not need.

First, she spread out a deep blue tablecloth. Then white napkins and silverware. Last was the food she'd brought. She sniffed the fried chicken, the corn on the cob, the buttery pierogies her mother insisted she take and keep warm in a heated bag. The wine was red. Magdalena had told her which kind to buy and said it didn't need to be chilled. Last, she set out a plate and arranged the magic cookie bars she'd made for dessert. Unable to stop herself, she cut off the end of one and popped it into her mouth. The taste of coconut, chocolate and butterscotch was almost orgasmic.

Just as she had that thought, a car drove up in front of the site, and she could see that Adam had come alone, without Joe. She watched as he stopped and stood staring at the building site. A rush of warmth went through her. She'd bet this man was thinking the same thing as she when she saw it in its slumberous mode. Suddenly, she wasn't so worried about tonight.

He turned his head, saw her and made his way back. After glancing at the table, a slow smile spread across his face. "A picnic. How...refreshing. I can't remember the last time I went on one."

"No?" They picnicked with the boys and Matka routinely. "You're missing out."

Turning to her, he grasped her shoulders and smiled again. Then he kissed her, firmly on the lips. "Hi."

"Hi."

"I like the blouse." He tugged briefly on the strings that gathered at her neck. She'd paired it with a denim skirt that flared at her knees. The outfit was one of her favorites because it was comfortable.

"Thanks." She scanned him. "Nice jeans. The blue of the shirt highlights your eyes."

"That was the intent."

"Seriously? You think about those things when you buy clothes?"

Kissing her nose, he grinned at her. "Most people do." He motioned to the food. "What gave you this idea?"

"The nights have been warm lately." She leaned into him. "And a formal dinner didn't work out so well last time."

He brushed his palm down her hair, which she'd let go untamed. It had curled even more than usual. "I don't know, Ms. Ludzecky, I think our date ended well."

Her heartbeat speeded up at the memory. "So do I." She held his gaze. "Want some wine? I asked Magdalena what you might like."

"Sure."

She took it from the cloth bag.

"Hmm, a Cab. Yes, I'll like this."

"You're gonna have to open it, though," she said, handing him a corkscrew. "It's not my thing."

He made quick work of the cork. "Will you have some?"

"Nope, I brought beer for me." She'd thought about changing what she drank tonight, but the idea didn't sit well with her.

"I got some lawn chairs from the trailer, too. And blankets. I thought we could relax and talk for a while."

"I'd like that." He poured the ruby liquid into the wine glass she'd found in their cupboard, and she popped the top off a beer. They sat under the canopy of trees, but they could still see the music hall site. He said, "She's going to be a beauty."

"Yeah. I think so. I was studying the floor plan, though. There might be an issue with the backstage."

He shook his head "Not tonight. Tonight's you and me, a woman and a man. Tell me what you did the rest of this week. Did you win your soccer match?"

"It was a tie. Ben managed to score a goal. Usually, at this age, it's just hordes of kids scrambling after the ball and crouching on the field. Still, it's fun to watch them out there."

"Does your sister's son play?"

"No. Sal's shy. Nia had him in T-ball because the sport's less aggressive, but he hated it."

"What does he like?"

"To draw. Honestly, Adam, for five, he's unbelievably talented."

She also told him about yoga with Sofia and watching movies with the kids. "Probably sounds boring to you."

"No, it doesn't. It sounds warm and loving."

Spontaneously, she reached out and squeezed his hand. "I like that. How about you? What did you do?"

He'd attended a gallery opening, chaired a meeting of the board of trustees for a charity, and played golf with his dad.

"What charity?" she asked because that interested her.

"One for research on leukemia."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No. Dad's brother died from it when he was child. Why?"

"My sister Sofia had leukemia as a teenager. I, um..." She broke off.

"What?"

"I don't mean to brag. But I gave her a bone marrow transplant."

He reached over and ran his knuckles down her cheek. "How generous of you to be her donor, Paulina." He sighed. "My dad did the same thing with his sibling. It didn't work, though."

"Oh, wow, I'm sorry. Was it recent?"

"No, thirty years ago."

"They've made great progress in research. Sofia's worked, thank God."

She was pleased they'd found common ground. He took her hand and seemed happy about it, too.

oOo

Adam sat back down on one of the canvas chairs she'd brought along and patted his stomach. "I'm stuffed. When did you have time to do all this?"

Paulina took the second chair. "Last night. Matka made the pierogies, of course, but I know how. We all cook."

"I can't fry an egg."

"You probably had servants to do that."

He cocked his head. "We did. And I have a housekeeper now. But you said that like it's a fault."

"Did I? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." She tried to smile, but it came off weak. "Want a magic cookie bar?"

"A what?"

"Oh, Lord. You've never had one?" She stood. "I'll get them."

Grabbing her hand, he tugged her onto his lap. He noticed she didn't resist. "Not yet. I want another kind of magic." He tipped her chin and lowered his mouth. She tasted sweet and sexy. Cupping her hand at his nape, she moved to meet his chest with hers. The kiss went on, until he knew they'd have to stop or he'd embarrass himself.

When he drew his head back, she climbed off his lap as if she had the same thought. "Want to go for a walk? There's a little clearing in the trees a ways back, and we can see the stars come out."

A walk would calm his nerves...and other parts of him. "You're on."

After she put everything back in the picnic basket, she snagged blankets from the bench. He took her hand and they wended their way through the trees. He'd traversed the woods before he'd designed the music hall, but he didn't remember the clearing out here. The night had gotten darker as they'd walked, but when they came to the small open space, he stopped. The ground was lit by the stars. "This is breathtaking."

"Yeah, I eat out here sometimes when I'm working. The sky is more...present, even in the daytime."

Taking the blankets from her, he spread one out and dropped the other. They sat down and looked up at the stars. "Do you know the constellations?" she asked.

"Of course. I went to astronomy camp when I was young."

"Never heard of that one."

"Did you go to camp?"

"Girl Scouts. Basketball."

"Ah, so you played."

"Yeah, even as an adult. But then I had the boys and quit the league. Luke and I still shoot some hoops when he's home and we're not buried in snow. Did you play any sports?"

He stared hard at her. Her eyes picked up the sparkle of the stars, and her hair was mussed from his hands, her lips rosy from his mouth. Suddenly, he decided to go after what he wanted. "You know what Paulina? I don't want to talk about all this."

"Why?"

"Because it'll just show how different we are. I'd rather concentrate on what we have in common."

"And that's?"

He lay back and pulled her down over him. "This."

oOo

She fell on top of him with little grace. But she didn't care. All she wanted was to be close to this man. The kiss earlier had whet her appetite for him, an appetite that had increased since she'd met him. Now her mind was clouded with the woodsy scent of him, with the feel of his hard chest against her. Reaching out, he moved her so her body aligned with his and they melded into each other. His arms banded around her, making her feel desired.

The kiss went deeper, got hotter, and she struggled to get closer to him. After a while, he eased her off him, to her back, then angled himself over her. "You are so lovely I can't control myself."

"I don't want you to."

He cocked his head. "You're sure?"

"Shut up and kiss me again. Do whatever you want to me. With me."

He grasped her arms and found her neck with his mouth. Paulina closed her eyes, let him kiss her there, encouraged him to leave marks. Tonight, she cared about nothing more than being as much a part of him as she could. His hand slid under her blouse, and she felt his strong fingers explore her rib cage. He bent his head to the skin exposed by the neckline of the blouse, ran his tongue around her collarbone and Paulina sucked in a breath. His hands kneaded her breasts, then found the clasp on the front of her bra. He didn't ask permission to open it, just snapped it, and the feel of his hand on her bare flesh made her burn for him. She tried to inch her hand between them, to find him, touch him, but he stayed her. "Don't, baby, I'll go off."

"Adam, I..."

He removed her shirt and bra together. When his mouth closed over a nipple, shock waves went through her. "Adam, me, too. I'm dying here," she managed to say.

He eased back. "Then...more is okay?"

"I want more. Much more."

She felt his hand tug at her skirt, yank it up, and then a tearing sound rent the air. Oh, God, he'd ripped off her panties. She arched up into his hips. "Not this way, though," she got out in a ragged breath. "I want you to come inside me."

"I didn't bring protection, sweetheart. I didn't want to be presumptuous."

She reached for her skirt and retrieved foil packets from a pocket. "Call me Presumptuous Paulina."

His hand left her. She heard the jangle of his belt, his Goddamn it, when it stuck. A zipper. The rustle of the condom packet. Then he yanked open her legs and plunged into her.

Sensation washed through her as he began to thrust. It was all she could think about.

oOo

Adam rolled off her, lay on his back and closed his eyes. He could barely catch his breath. She gasped for air, too, next to him. Never in his entire life had he ripped off a woman's clothing, ravaged her mouth. Not even when he was a teenager and didn't know what he was doing.

She didn't speak, but he heard the rustle of her clothing, then felt her sit up. More rustling. A blanket covered him, and she sidled in next to him. Completely naked. For Christ's sake, he felt himself go hard again.

Tenderness came from somewhere. He tugged her close, entangled their legs. "So," he said, surprised at the amusement in his voice, "I guess you liked it. Even in the missionary position." Which was not the best for women.

"Are you kidding?" Her husky tone warmed him. "If I liked it any more, I'd be dead."

Laughter bubbled out of him. He couldn't remember laughing during a lovemaking session, and from all appearances, this one wasn't over with.

"Did, um, you?" There was insecurity in her voice now.

He eased her to the ground and braced himself over her. He covered her from her breasts down, but he could see the flush on her skin, a few marks he'd made. "How could you even ask that? I was out of my mind."

"Whew!"

Studying her, he asked, "Are you embarrassed we did this out here?"

Her brows knit. "No, I like making love outside."

"You did this before?"

"Sure. Haven't you?"

"Never." He watched her. "Then, what's wrong?"

She bit her lip. How on earth this woman could be shy now boggled his mind. "Tell me, Paulina."

"I didn't want to be too eager."

"There's no too eager in lovemaking."

She looked away, and something occurred to him. "Paulina... That's right. You told me you haven't dated since your husband died, so you haven't made love either, have you?" Like a little girl, she shook her head and stared at him.

"Why didn't you remind me?"

"Well, for one thing, I wasn't thinking straight and you were pretty far gone."

"Did I hurt you? I wasn't exactly coherent."

Now she chuckled and it was good to hear. "All I could think of was you. And the pleasure you gave me."

"That's a relief."

More relaxed, he lay back and brought her to his side again. Tucked the blanket around them. And stared at the sky. Her breathing evened out, and he liked how their hearts beat in one rhythm. After a while, he said, "You brought protection. I didn't have any."

She actually laughed at him. "This is a role reversal. But Adam, it's the twenty-first century. A year after Donnie died, Luke brought me a box of condoms. Insisted I keep them in my purse, in the car, in the office."

"Hell!"

"I put some in the picnic basket, just in case."

"I guess that'll show me. Women's rights, and all."

"Yep." She snuggled into him.

"Since we're equal partners in this, let me know when you're ready again, babe."

"Okay. I like cuddling, too."

He never had. But tonight was different. He savored her nearness, the feel of her naked body. Just staring at the stars with her. But then her hands got busy stripping off the rest of his clothes and retrieving another condom.

It was a long time before they talked again.

# Chapter 9

On Saturday night, Donuta stood before the mirror and her eyes widened. "I do not even resemble myself, corka."

Magdalena, the most sophisticated of her children and the most discreet, smiled at her from where she lay on the bed. Even lounging in the house, this daughter wore a copper silk top and pants to match. Her eyes glowed with the color. "You look like who you were, Matka."

"When I was young." She touched her hair. "I did not even know it would curl this way."

"And the makeup I forced you to wear is just right."

"It does flatter me. And the dress. Beautiful but too expensive."

"Gerald will appreciate it. That's enough."

When the man had asked Donuta to go to the private screening of a new Broadway show, All of Me, and the after party, Matka had said no. Gently, Gerald had told her if she didn't have anything to wear, his assistant would help her pick something out and he'd pay for it. She'd given him her best haughty look, the one she'd used to face down Stash, her Old World husband, many times.

I would never allow that. I am thinking about the logistics, I believe is the right word.

In what way?

Getting there, getting home.

I have a car for all that.

Perhaps I would rather stay in Manhattan with one of my daughters.

Anything to get you to come.

All right. And I will take care of my appearance...

"I wish you'd let me pay for the dress." Magdalena had offered, of course.

"I have money. Enough for this, but it is extravagant." Donuta remembered going without new clothes for years to provide them for the children. "You paid for this hairdo, which I fancy, and"—she held up her finger—"this frivolous but lovely manicure."

The doorbell to Magdalena's home buzzed. "He's here." She watched her mother as she rose. "Are you nervous?"

"I was nervous when I flew to America by myself to marry your father. When Lukasz got shot. When Sofia was diagnosed. This, my child, is nothing." "Kocham ciebie," Magdalena said to her.

"I love you, too."

Gerald was handsome as sin in his tuxedo. The sight of him made Donuta's pulse quicken. At sixty-five? She chided herself for her self-doubts. She wasn't dead yet.

"I'm speechless," Gerald said when he saw her. "You are lovely, Donuta, when you want to be."

She shook her head. "It is not important to me."

He kissed her cheek. "That makes how you look even more special."

They rode to the play in his town car—with a driver! At the theater, their seats were in draped boxes along the side wall. Donuta enjoyed the story about a working-class woman trying to make it on Broadway. A famous movie actor starred as the father, though she didn't know him because she rarely went to films. The party afterward was held in the penthouse of one of the patrons.

Dazzled by the glitter and glamour of the guests mingling in the huge space, Donuta accepted a glass of champagne from the waiter, then turned to search for Gerald. Instead, her eye caught on someone familiar. It took her a moment to realize it was Adam Armstrong. The man who was sweeping Paulina off her feet.

oOo

"Where's Matka?" Ben asked. "I'm hungry. "She said she'd fix me pancakes today before church."

Nia sighed. "We overslept and missed church. And Matka had...plans last night so she stayed with Aunt Magdalena."

"Plans like Mommy did last night?"

Paulina was sure she'd blushed to the roots of her hair. But she thought, I hope so. She hadn't told Nia what had happened between her and Adam. She grinned, though, at the thought of what they'd done together.

"Matka will be home sometime today," Nia told Paulina's son.

"I wanna ride my bike." This from Tommy, who glanced at his shy cousin, sitting by the window at a small table Nia had bought him, with some new art supplies. "Sal, wanna come?"

Salvador looked up. "Can't I stay here and paint?"

"You could," Nia said. "But it's a sunny day, and I'd like you to get some fresh air."

"Okay." Sometimes the kid just gave in too easily. But he was a lot like his mother and his father. Peter had been as easygoing as they come.

They got the kids fed, clothed and into sneakers, then headed outside. Their neighborhood had sidewalks, and appeared safe, but after the accident that had robbed them of husbands and fathers, both Nia and Paulina wouldn't let the boys go out of the yard alone like many of their friends did. And when any of the kids went to playdates, they either drove them or walked them over. Idly, Paulina wondered if they'd ever be less protective, if the cloud of impending doom would ever go away.

With the boys riding ahead, Nia spoke first. "You haven't said anything about Friday night. I wasn't going to push, but since Tommy brought it up..."

In truth, Paulina was afraid to share the wonderful night with her sister because she didn't want Nia to put a damper on it. "I had a good time."

"Will you see him again?"

"I think so. We're both busy. We're going to text next week to see if we can get together." Actually, he'd texted her a couple of times last night and sounded...nostalgic.

"Dating him is fine, I think, just so..." Nia trailed off and tugged her sweater around her tighter.

"Just so...?"

Nia took Paulina's hand. "...you aren't serious about him. I know we have to move on, but I always thought we'd find guys like Peter and Donnie."

"Yeah, I did, too." But Adam had crashed into her life like a meteor, and the relationship had taken a fast turn into intimacy. If she closed her eyes, she could still recall his scent, still feel the way he'd touched her, caressed her, kissed her. And more. The sensations were so acute, so pleasurable, so healthy, she couldn't regret what she'd done with him.

He'd walked her to the door at two in the morning...

"So, Ms. Paulina Pettrone. Did I knock your socks off like you did mine?"

"Uh-huh." She stared up at him. "It was wonderful, Adam, so wonderful."

"God, don't purr like that. You've worn me out but I could still—"

She put her hand on his mouth. "Kiss me good night."

He did. Lifting her off the ground again. (Why was that so sexy?) Devouring her mouth till she was breathing hard. (God that felt good.) "I have to see you, soon," he said when he released her.

"Nia, Matka and I coordinate our schedules on Sunday. I'll let you know when I can get free."

"Do you want to see me as badly?"

"I do."

A last peck on the cheek. "Make it soon, woman."

She wiggled her brows. "I'll make sure we have condoms, too."

He'd stalked away, mumbling under his breath about sirens, Lolita and femme fatales...

"You went quiet," her sister said. "Did I overstep with my comment on Adam?"

"What? No. I realize Adam couldn't be more different from Donnie."

More silence. "Do you even like all that stuff? A driver? His fancy clothes and haircut that could fund our church's food cupboard for a week."

"I don't hold it against him, if that's what you mean."

"I would have trouble with relating to his world."

She'd related to his world last night, and he'd tilted hers on its axis. "It's too soon to judge, Nia. Maybe it'll get to be too much for me, but maybe not. We've only had a couple dates."

"Yeah, I guess. Now let's talk about Matka. Do you think she spent the night with Gerald in the city and lied about staying at Magdalena's?"

"I have no idea. But don't tease her if she did."

"I won't. I want her to be happy."

Briefly, Paulina wondered why that same sentiment didn't apply to her and Adam. Gerald was from the same world as Adam. But she dismissed the comparison. She was right when she said that it was too soon to be serious or not serious about the man. So she didn't let Nia's reaction ruin what had happened with him under the stars.

They fixed the kids dinner, then talked about their weekly schedules, even though Matka wasn't here. Nia said, "Did you see the Wednesday-night soccer practice has been called off because the field is being used for a special event?"

"Um, no. I didn't." She studied her sister. "Do you want to go out? You watched the kids for me Friday."

"Where would I go?"

"Hmm, a movie by yourself. To a spa. Take some alone time, sweetie. Or you could call another one of our sisters to go with you."

"I don't need that, Paulie."

"Then, could I have Wednesday night to see Adam?"

"Yeah, sure." Nia's love shone in her eyes. "And you don't have to be afraid to ask me for time with him. It's okay, Paulie. Do what you want. Just be careful."

Well, she'd said she'd bring condoms.

oOo

Since Matka hadn't come home yet from New York, Nia went to the meeting at school alone and Paulina stayed with the kids. Besides, her sister really hated these things, but Nia enjoyed the plans they made. Since the PTA met each month on a different night to accommodate everyone, some meetings like this one were on weekends.

Once inside the gym area where seats had been set up, she listened with half an ear to the budget reports, the old business, thinking mostly about how Paulina was changing, expanding and Nia was stuck. Totally and completely stuck. The notion disconcerted her.

"The first item of new business is next year's artist in residence. We've got two people who said they would be interested in coming." The vice president of the group handed out a packet and Nia opened hers. "Alana Morgan is one. She paints portraits, more in the classical style."

A few of her paintings were included in the packet. Though Nia could appreciate the craftsmanship, she didn't get excited about the work. Probably because it left her cold, and she believed art should stir the emotions.

"The second is Rafael Castle."

Nia turned the page. Wow! His stuff was different, very different, but it buzzed with energy. The sky, in a variety of colors, came alive.

"Opinions?" the president asked.

Nia stood. "I like the second style. It's got energy and substance but doesn't tell you what to think about the subject. I think the kids will be drawn to it, as I am."

The discussion began. A few preferred the representational art, but more agreed with Nia. By the end of the night, they'd chosen their artist.

Nia left the meeting, feeling better than when she'd come. She might not have a man in her life, might not be moving on, but at least she could contribute to Sal's education in a meaningful way.

She hoped he liked Rafe Castle.

oOo

After Nia left, and the boys were playing in their rooms, Paulina went upstairs to email Adam. She called up her messages. There was one from him. Let me know tonight when we can see each other... Come on, girl. Give me a time... It had been written at four this afternoon. Thinking how good being pursued felt, Paulina giggled out loud and had started to return his email when one came in from Magdalena. Her sister's missive read, Click on this link. It's a page from last night. See Matka at her finest. Oh, and there's someone else you know there.

Intrigued, Paulina hit the link. Gala for the Glitterati of Broadway.

Matka went to a gala? Apparently. It was held at a penthouse in Manhattan. After a new Broadway play. She scanned the photos and came upon one of her mother and Gerald. Holy hell!

Matka looked gorgeous. A caption read Gerald Callahan and his friend, unidentified.

She scanned the other photos, and when she didn't find another of Matka in the batch, she was about to click off when her eye caught on someone. She enlarged the photo.

It was Adam, in a stunning tuxedo with a blue-and-green tie that highlighted his eyes. On his arm was a slender brunette wearing diamonds at her ears and throat. Beneath the photo the caption read, A candid of Architect of the Year, Adam Armstrong, with the longtime companion, Elyssa Hargrove.

Paulina zeroed in on the flute of champagne in Ms. Hargrove's hand. She recalled drinking beer from a bottle Friday night. Then another thought came to her. She checked her phone messages just to be sure. Seriously? Adam had texted her last night—twice—when he was on a date with his socialite girlfriend?

oOo

On Sunday night, Adam was in a rotten mood. First, he'd hurt someone he liked, cared about...

After the party, Joe had swerved the car in front of Elyssa's home on the Upper East Side. The glass was in place between the front and back seats, and Elyssa leaned over and pressed her breast against his arm. "Tell Joe to come back, darling."

"I'm sorry, I can't." He'd moved away from her. "I'd like to take a break from our relationship, Elyssa."

She angled her head and her jaw dropped open. "It's been a while since we've...been together. I wondered about your reticence to make love. Does your request have something to do with that?"

He hadn't pieced it together before this. They hadn't made love since he'd met Paulina. "In a way." He was hedging but he couldn't very well tell her that he'd had hot sex with another woman, who'd jumbled his brains. "It's for personal reasons."

"That's ominous. You could at least give me more information on this sudden decision."

"I prefer to leave it at that." He'd accompanied her to the door, then went back into the car, refusing to think about what his actions meant...

Now he was prowling around in his house, unable to figure out why Paulina hadn't been in contact. He walked to the window and let the evening air cool him off some. Sure, she had a busy life, but he'd sent three texts and an email. Damn it. He couldn't remember a time when he'd waited to hear from a woman.

Once again, he checked his phone and paced again, from his living room to the kitchen to his den, where he dropped down at his desk. Hell. He punched in her number. Waited some more. "Paulina Pettrone. Leave a message."

Shit. He was behaving like a teenager and he didn't like it one bit.

oOo

She always slept like the dead. Donnie used to tease her that their kids would have starved to death as infants if he hadn't gotten up to tend to them. But all night, she watched the red numbers on the clock go from ten to eleven to midnight. Hell, she had a big day tomorrow, a big week, really. They were hoping to get halfway through the framing of the music hall. That would be huge progress.

Turning over, she stared at the ceiling. And admitted what was wrong. Adam had had a date with another woman. And he was probably sleeping with the longtime companion. At first, she'd told herself they weren't exclusive, so his relationship with someone else shouldn't matter. But as the hours drifted by, she admitted to herself it did. She wasn't serious about him and didn't feel bad about having recreational sex with him. But she also wasn't sophisticated enough to sleep with someone who had bed partners other than her at the same time.

She punched her pillow and lay back down on it. She wouldn't see him anymore. Simple as that. Paulina's heart vised in her chest. But she was right to do this. Especially now, when she hadn't come to care about him yet.

Closing her eyes again, she waited for sleep to come.

# Chapter 10

Rain came the next morning, so plans for the framing were put on hold. Usually, Paulina went into work anyway, did office stuff with Nia, but today, she dressed in nice jeans, sandals and a plain white blouse, left a note for her sister she'd be late for work and headed into the city by the subway. Adam had called her last night, but she'd turned her phone off. Today, she'd tell him in person what decision she'd made and be done with him. Sad, she nonetheless knew this was the right thing to do. And in some ways, it was a relief. She wouldn't have to worry about their differences; she wouldn't have to think about introducing him to her kids.

But she also would never feel his kiss, his arms clutching her to him again. Her throat clogged at the thought.

When she arrived at his office, the building looked tall and glitzy, unlike the first time she'd come here and admired its architecture. Knowing that impression had some significance, she took the elevator to the top floor. His assistant was at her desk.

Lana recognized her. "Ms. Pettrone. How nice to see you." She glanced at her book. "Do you have an appointment with Mr. Armstrong?"

"No. I was hoping to catch him before the workday started."

"Let me check."

Lana returned in a moment...with Adam. Paulina's whole body reacted to the sight of him. She was struck by how attractive he was in the morning light. Except...wait, his eyes were grim, tinged with red. Maybe he'd had a rough night in the sack with whatever her name was.

The notion made her decision to end things between them even stronger.

"Paulina, this is a surprise." His voice was husky, like it had gotten after sex. Even how he spoke sent a frisson down her spine.

"I hope it's okay that I showed up without an appointment."

"More than okay. Come in."

As they walked back to his office, she felt...nervous, unsure, queasy even. She hated the reaction, so as soon as they were seated on one of the leather couches, she blurted out, "I wanted to tell you in person that I've decided not to see you anymore."

His green eyes widened. With shock? Well, she bet that women rarely, if ever, said those words to Adam Armstrong. "Why is that? I thought we'd gotten close Friday night? As a matter of fact, I've been more than disappointed that you haven't acknowledged my texts or calls."

His response spiked anger inside her, but she tamped the feeling down. It wasn't his fault she wasn't hip enough to accept the dating game he played. She came to the edge of her seat. "Here's why. I saw pictures of you at a Broadway play gala Saturday night. Actually, my mother was there." Damn, she was babbling. "Adam, you have a girlfriend. One who seems much more your type than me."

He glanced briefly away. "Elyssa is a friend."

"A longtime companion, the note under your picture said. Which means..."

He crossed his arms over his chest. Damn him. He must know what she was getting at.

"I realize this thing between us is in its early stages, and I'm not looking for anything serious, anyway, but I can't sleep with a man who's sleeping with other women. It's just not me."

He nodded.

"I know that sounds naive, and I probably am, but it's the truth." Still, he continued to stare at her. Now she felt stupid and stood. "Good-bye, Adam." Turning, she strode toward the door.

She'd just reached for the handle when he slapped his hand on it from behind. "Not so fast, Paulina."

oOo

Adam had been stunned by his reaction to hearing that Paulina was at his office. And that reaction wasn't anger at her ignoring him this weekend. It was relief. Intense relief. He'd think about that later, but now he grasped her arms gently and moved in close. Her hair, back in one long ponytail, smelled like lilacs. "Come to the couch and sit down."

Her back to him, she shook her head and straightened. "No, I've made a fool of myself."

"You haven't. We need to talk."

With a deep breath, she faced him, her hair swinging over her shoulder. Her chest rose and fell, and her breasts strained against the simple white blouse. He felt his whole body respond.

Without saying more, he tugged her to the couch. Got them both coffee and returned to sit next to her, closer this time. "Here," he said handing her a mug. "I think we both could use this."

"I..." She glanced away. "I'm embarrassed. I'm not used to dealing with men like you, but I thought it best to tell you my feelings in person."

Of course she would. He liked that about her. He loved that about her. She was honest and sincere; dissembling was foreign to her.

"Paulina, what happened between us Friday night was a real connection. Intensely pleasurable. But also meaningful, to me and apparently to you. That isn't negated by the fact that I had a previous commitment with another woman Saturday. But because it matters, I'll tell you I didn't sleep with Elyssa that night or, it dawned on me later, since I met you a few weeks ago."

She watched him. "I'm glad what happened between us wasn't some dalliance to you. But I think we're lucky this whole notion came up now. I didn't know I'd feel this way about you dating other women. Hell, I've had no experience with men other than Donnie, and we were together since high school." She sipped from her cup and then put it down on the coffee table.

"You probably think exclusivity is stupid. And, to make my reaction and this conversation even more ludicrous, I don't want anything serious."

"So you keep saying. First, let's deal with the exclusivity. If not dating other people for as long as this lasts between us is what you want, I'm in. And it's too soon for this to be serious. But if it went down that road—"

She interrupted. "It won't. We're so different, Adam, we could never fit into each other's worlds. I know the thought has occurred to you. You even told me what to wear the first time we went out. So maybe it's a blessing in disguise I reacted as I did about your date. We can end this between us now and be friends. What's more, we won't hurt our working together."

Agitation swirled inside him. "I don't want to end our relationship."

"Why?"

"Because I like you. And the sex was...unbelievable. I want more of your time and more intimacy with you. We can see what happens with the future. I won't force anything on you. But you have to tell me if, down deep, you feel the same way about me."

Her teeth came out over her bottom lip. "I guess I do. I felt bad yesterday at the thought of not seeing you again. No, more than bad. Horrible. And I'd like to enjoy what we have." She rolled her eyes. "Especially the sex."

"Then my answer is that we have fun both in and out of bed and not worry about what's beyond that."

"All right. As long as no mud puddles are involved."

He smiled. "No, no more puddles."

"Then, I guess we don't have a problem."

"There is one more thing." He got up and circled the couch. From behind it, he slid out a frame. It was about three by four. It seemed familiar.

"What's that?"

"Something that's going to make you more comfortable about coming here to see me, about your reaction to me."

He turned the frame to face her.

"Oh, wow." She looked up at him. "Where did you get that?"

"Your brother-in-law auctioned it off at a fundraiser I was at." Now it was his turn to be sheepish. "I bought it. I came into the office yesterday when you never returned my calls just to see it again."

Her jaw dropped. "This makes me uneasy."

"It makes me uneasy, too. It's somewhat creepy."

She raised her gaze to him. "No, Adam, not like in a stalking kind of way. What about not getting serious?"

"We aren't dealing with that yet, remember? I showed you this so you won't feel embarrassed about coming here."

"I know you didn't have to do that. How sweet of you."

"Hmm. I haven't been called that before." He gave her a grin. "So, how about Wednesday night?"

"I'd made arrangements with Nia to be free before I saw the picture of you at the gala." "How did you come across it? Did your mother recognize me?"

"No. My sister Magdalena was checking up on her online, because she knew reporters would be at the event. She emailed me the link to see our mother all dressed up. It was totally innocent because she doesn't know we're dating."

Leaning over, he clinked their coffee cups. "What would you like to do Wednesday?"

Her gaze slid to the photo again, then back to him. "I get to choose?" Now her eyes were mischievous.

"Yes."

"I'd like to make love again. This time where there's a bed, we can both get naked and not worry about anything."

He couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. "I can make that happen."

oOo

Sitting on the couch in Adam's huge brownstone on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, Paulina tugged the blanket closer around her. "This is nuts. I'm cold."

He grinned over at her from his seat on the other end—hair tousled, eyes slumberous and blessedly unconscious of his nakedness. Though Paulina wasn't at all shy about her body—you couldn't grow up with eight women in one house and develop any modesty—his suggestion tonight was a first for her.

"You got to pick the movie. I got to decide how we watched it. Fair is fair." She laughed. It was fun to joke with him, especially after the passionate lovemaking earlier. They'd come together as if they were long-lost lovers separated for years instead of days.

And the connection was intense, tinged with tenderness and maybe even gratitude. She'd have to think about that.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She nodded to the television. "Don't get any ideas during the show. This is one of my favorite films, and I haven't seen it in a while."

Reaching out, he ran a finger down her exposed calf, raising goose bumps and her blood pressure. "I can't get ideas out of my head when you're around." Watching her, he was quiet for a moment. "I wish you could stay the night."

"That kind of thing is so hard with kids, Adam. I have responsibilities."

"Would you want to if you could?"

"Of course." Spontaneously, she grasped his hand. Kissed it. They locked gazes, but when his expression turned even more serious, it made her nervous, so she looked away.

A sigh. "What's the movie you brought?"

"Love Actually. Liam Neeson is to die for."

"Hell, competition of the greatest magnitude."

"He does remind me of you some."

A full, satisfied grin.

"I'll get us refreshments." He rose and went to the kitchen. His place was stunning, a lot like his office, decorated with modern art and leather furniture, with teak accents everywhere. And it was big. The high ceilings and large windows made her feel dwarfed.

When he returned, she sipped her beer—some fancy kind she'd never had before—while he switched on the TV and started the DVD. He was attentive to the movie until he finished his drink. "My back is starting to hurt from sitting up. Let's stretch out on the couch together."

She gave a sham frown. "Liar."

"No, seriously, I have some problems with lower-back pain now and again."

She couldn't resist. She was drawn to him in every way. So she lay down and made room for him behind her. He drew the extra-large blanket of soft velour up to cover them both. Spoon-fashioned, his full body aligned with hers made her sigh.

His breath fanned her ear, making her shiver but not from the cold this time. "See isn't that better?"

It was. Until his hand started to wander.

Before long, Paulina lost track of the movie and Liam Neeson and focused her attention on Adam. Only Adam.

oOo

The text exchange the day after Paulina had come to his home read:

Since you're worried about our differences, I think we should alternate choosing what to do. We each get to pick an activity. Let's see if we enjoy them together.

Sounds good.

You like jock stuff, right?

Doesn't everybody?

Let's do something athletic Sunday. You decide what.

Sure. Prepare to get your ego crushed.

I'll prepare. See you after church.

So he stood in front of All You Can Play, the huge business in Brooklyn billed as a wonderland for adult athletes. Its front consisted of reflective glass, the glossy appearance framed by slick chrome lines. The facade was too modern for his taste, and he liked modern, but the exterior fit its purpose.

"Afraid to go in and face me?"

He hadn't heard Paulina come up behind him. Pivoting, he smiled broadly. All that hair was drawn back into the long ponytail again, and it bounced with every small movement. A white tank top bared tanned shoulders, around which she'd looped a long-sleeved shirt. Beneath navy shorts, her muscular legs made him remember having them wrapped around him.

He cleared his throat. "Not afraid at all. I was admiring the building."

She swept it with one long gaze. "Yeah, I like it, even if it is too modern for my taste."

"My thoughts exactly." He put his hand on her neck. "Ready to show me up, woman?"

"Of course." As they went in through the sliding-glass doors, she poked him in the ribs. "I'll try not to hurt you, old man."

Adam grunted. "I've only got eight years on you."

The attendant, a muscular guy with a name tag that read Joseph focused on Paulina. His approving gaze made Adam jealous, which was absolutely absurd. "Half of the areas are always open, but if you want any one of these"—he pointed to a printout on the desk—"you need to reserve it."

Over her shoulder, he scanned the list along with her. "You pick," she said.

"The half basketball court."

After they signed up, she pointed to another station. "Me, next. And it's open now."

Joseph directed them through a winding maze of games that could have come from a county fair, through video rooms, to the back of the warehouse-like area, where she stopped.

"Ah, a batting cage. You play softball, don't you?"

"I play a lot of things, Adam."

"Hmm, I know." She chuckled. "You go first. Maybe I'll pick up some pointers."

"I can handicap you."

"No need."

She walked into a cage. The area was about twelve feet high, six feet wide and thirty feet long, all encased by chain link. Turning to a mechanism off to the side, she fiddled with the knob. "I set the pitch for fast. But you don't have to."

"Go ahead. I'll keep track of how many you hit."

She situated herself at the plate, bent her knees and wiggled her butt, making it stick out. Grasping the bat in the right place, she waited until the ball shot out of the cage. Paulina slammed it into the net at the far end of the lane. And he counted...one...four... ten...until the machine stopped.

"Wow, you didn't miss any." He tried to keep the amusement from his voice. "Are you sure I have to do this?"

"Yep. A deal's a deal."

When she exited the cage, he gave her a friendly little pat on the ass and stepped up to the plate.

"Put it on medium," she told him.

Shaking his head, he started the machine at the same intensity she'd used. And hit the very fast, first pitch into the nets. And the second. And the third...By the time it shut off, they were even.

She bit her lip, to keep from laughing, he guessed. "You sandbaggin' me?"

"What do you mean?"

"You hit every one. And they came fast."

He chuckled. "I played first base on the Harvard-club baseball team."

She cursed him, but he could see her eyes light. Of approval. And competition.

It wasn't time yet for the basketball court, so they stopped at a room which read Surf's Up. "Have you done this one before?" he asked.

"No. So I don't have an advantage over you." She hesitated. "Unless you surfed in Hawaii for a summer."

"Never, though I wouldn't mind. Maybe we could go sometime."

She ignored the reference to the future. The object of the game was to stand on the board, which would mimic the action of surfing, displayed on a huge screen in front them. Two could play at once, and each person's avatar was in the simulation. She called herself The Bomb and he was Ace.

"Thankfully, the floor's padded for when you fall off," she said sassily.

"Or you."

The machines started to move.

Jerk, jerk...

To the right and the left...

They were thrown forward and had to balance themselves in a split second. To the side, to the back, but neither toppled to the ground.

Both were sweaty and breathing hard when the session ended.

Paulina propped her hands on her hips. "Okay, so you're an athlete."

"Guilty as charged. You never asked. Just assumed there were no muscles under my suit."

"I know what's under that suit, babe."

They were alone in the surf room and he tugged her close. "I like you like this. You're a jock, but very, very feminine."

She wiped the sweat off her face. "Gimme a break. I don't think that word and my name have ever been mentioned in the same sentence."

Laughing, he kissed her nose. "I doubt that."

They got water, stopped at a few carnival games like Skee Ball and Ring Toss until the basketball court was free.

When they stepped onto it, she asked, "What do you want to play?"

"Foul shots. Then some one-on-one."

His first ball swished through the net. Hers did, too. But on the tenth, lo and behold, Paulina missed and he made his shot. "Fuck," she said under her breath.

"What was that? Crude language on the court? I'm calling a technical foul."

"I never lose." She shrugged. "Except maybe to Luke every blue moon." She grabbed the ball. "I'll take it out."

He acquiesced. Now the competitive spirit was alive in him.

"Don't go easy on me," she warned, then dribbled around him for a quick layup. She was fast and graceful in her movements. From outside the lines, he took the ball straight in and made one from the other side.

Taking a long shot from mid-court, Paulina punched her fist in the air when it circled the rim and dropped in. Next, he stole the ball from her and scored.

When they crashed together and went flying to the floor, Adam sat up and shook his head. "No more."

She lay on her back, a red bruise on her elbow. "I win, then."

From his position on his sore ass, he quipped, "You're something else, woman."

She sat up. "You are, too. I can't remember when I had so much fun competing with a man."

He watched as the meaning of her words dawned on her, and she slapped her hand over her mouth. The expression of horror in her eyes had him inching over to her. He slid his arm around her and held her close. "It's okay, honey. I know you didn't include Donnie in that."

Adam was surprised at how easily the words came out of his mouth. Because, down deep, he knew he was jealous of a dead man.

# Chapter 11

Later that week, Paulina and Nia were finishing up in the trailer after the crew had left.

Paulina looked over at her sister, who was dressed in a pretty pink skirt and T-shirt to match.

Nia's outfit was in stark contrast to Paulina's dirty jeans and stained T-shirt. "Let's go sit outside. I want to talk to you."

Alarm suffused Nia's face and she gripped the pen she held. "Has something bad happened?"

"No, sweetie." God, she hated that they always expected the worst now. The common reaction also made her more patient with Nia. "Nothing bad at all."

Paulina took water bottles from the fridge and headed out behind the music hall frame. The mid-May evening was lovely, as the sun still shone and the trees rustled with a slight breeze. They reached the picnic table where she and Adam had eaten.

Nia said, "It's beautiful back here."

"Adam and I are thinking about doing some fundraising for a sculpture garden."

"Adam and you." Nia sighed. "That sounds serious."

Sipping her water, Paulina struggled for the right words. They were hard to find because her feelings toward Adam changed constantly inside her. "It is serious but not in the way you mean. I like him, but I'm not thinking June weddings. Nia, we slept together."

"I figured as much. You've been really mellow. When?"

"On our second date." She motioned to the trees. "Back there. And then again at his apartment."

"Remember how we made love outside with the guys? I liked that then."

"You were more adventurous with Pete."

She could tell Nia was struggling. "I want to handle this right, about Adam." She rolled her eyes. "And I want to know how it was. You've never been with anybody but Donnie."

"I think the phrase is the sex knocked my socks off."

At least Nia laughed. "I'm happy for you, Paulie. Some healthy sex is or would be good for both of us."

"Then why do you turn down dates?"

"Only two. And I'm beginning to think turning them down was a mistake." She gave Paulina a sideways glance. "I miss making love with a man, too. Those...devices Magdalena took us to buy in the city aren't like having a warm body."

Laughing out loud, Paulina slid her arm around Nia's shoulder. "Those devices are called vibrators. It's okay to say the word."

"I know." She tugged on her braid, which fell past her breasts. "I wish I wasn't such a prude. But everything was so easy with Peter."

"You're just shy. And as you said, neither of us had any sexual experience except with our husbands."

"I guess. Thanks for telling me. And I'm glad you enjoyed yourself with Adam."

"I have an ulterior motive."

"I'll cover the kids for you anytime you want. Maybe someday, you can return the favor."

"I'm sure I will. I'd like to go with Adam to a casino. And stay overnight in a hotel."

Nia's light brows pulled together. "Do you gamble?"

"No, but it sounds like fun. I have a few bucks saved."

In fact, they had plenty of money from the guys' life insurance policies, which were big because of the work they did. And the business had always done well. The fact that the homestead was paid for allowed Nia and Paulina to only have to take care of the taxes. They were financially secure. "I can afford to lose a hundred dollars."

Raising her chin, Nia said, "Of course you can. Go. Have fun. Just be careful."

Paulina nodded. She wished Nia would stop saying that, but she'd gotten what she wanted: she'd been honest with her sister, was able to gently nudge Nia toward dating, and she would get to spend the night with Adam. Who knew, maybe she'd like gambling.

oOo

Joe Corleone was laughing at him.

Adam could see his grin in the rearview mirror. "What?" he asked, sounding ornery even to his own ears.

"It's just nice to see you this way."

"What way?"

"Happy. Lookin' forward to seeing a woman."

"I've seen a lot of women. I always look forward to it."

"Oh, I thought she was different to you." Joe's face turned serious. "She's a nice person, Adam. I hope you're not—"

"Hold it right there, buddy. She is different. I like her, but I'm holding back some because she doesn't want a soul mate. She said that she had that once and doesn't want it again."

"Huh."

"I'm respecting her wishes. And her."

Joe's expression said all kidding aside. "That makes me worry about you, then. Because the way you are with her tells me this isn't a fling."

What a hateful word. And certainly didn't describe his feelings for Paulina. But he said lightly, "Nah. I'm fine. Taking one day at a time."

They arrived at the Ludzecky house, and Adam went to the front door. Dark clouds had been hanging around all day, as if they were about to empty anytime. He rang the bell.

Paulina answered right away. "Hi, I'm ready."

"Oh." She didn't want him to come inside, and he wondered if the boys were home. Then he banished the notion. It didn't matter. As he'd told Joe, one day at a time. She stepped outside with a practical small black roller bag.

"Is that all you're bringing?"

"Do I need more?"

Most women did. "No, I guess not."

"I have something nice for dinner, Adam, if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm not worried about anything." He leaned in close. "I can't wait to see you in it."

"And out of it, I'll bet."

He placed his hand on her neck and said, "Witch."

oOo

Paulina was having the time of her life. The Empire Casino, about an hour's drive from Queens, included a hotel associated with it, and they'd checked in right away. The room was huge, with a sitting area, a separate bedroom and a Jacuzzi tub, which, Adam said, they should try out. Since she knew he was anxious to teach her to gamble, she said she wanted to go to the casino and save the tub for later.

She wasn't crazy about blackjack, couldn't make sense of craps, so she told him she'd wander around the slots. When she saw the Dolly Parton machine, she laughed. She remembered how she and her sisters used to pretend they were a girl band and went into many iterations— pop, rock-and-roll and country. So she sat down. An hour later, she'd tripled her money.

"You should leave, you know," the man next to her said as his machine cha-chinged. "They get cold."

"Nah. It's too much fun. Good luck, though."

He gave her an appreciative once-over. Never one to want the attention of other men, Paulina found pleasure in the male approval. She did look nice; she knew that. She'd pinned her hair up after she'd washed it, so when she let it down, it was all curls. She'd thought Adam would swallow his tongue. And she'd splurged on a new dress, a blue-sequined thing that fit her in all the right places.

Turning back to the machine, she touched its surface. "So, Dolly, are you gonna go cold on me?"

She pressed the button for 200 Pennies again, and Jolene, the song she'd picked for the star to sing to her, came on. She hummed along softly and moved in her seat. All right, she needed three butterflies to get the bonus. "Come on, baby—one, two...three. Yes!"

New music came on, and once again, she danced in her seat. "Yeah, baby." The machine paid $20 on the first turn of the bonus round. The next turn gave ten wild icons, and it was the Classic Record. Holy cow, $500? On one turn. Honestly? When the bonus round ended, she'd won nearly $1000.

"Time to quit," she said, pressing Cash Out. She turned to find Adam behind her. "Hi. How long have you been there?"

"A while. I didn't know you were a Dolly Parton fan."

"Oops. I was singing out loud, wasn't I?"

"Oh, yeah!"

She glanced around. "Did I embarrass you?"

"Never." He stepped forward. "I was mesmerized at yet another facet of you."

She leaned into him. "One even I didn't know I had."

"Are you hungry? They have a great seafood buffet here."

"I am hungry. Let's go." They held hands as they walked through the buzz, bells and rattle of the machines. When they reached the restaurant, she said, "Adam?"

"Hmm."

"Let's go back to the hotel for dessert."

"You're on, doll!"

oOo

Adam's laughing mood turned serious the minute they returned to the hotel room. Closing and locking the door, he pivoted to find her still behind him in the dim light they'd left on. He read in her eyes me, too.

Instinctively he knew this wasn't time for talk, for tenderness. He grasped her by the waist and turned her around to unzip the lovely outfit she'd worn tonight. His ardor increased when he saw the black strapless bra and why-bother panties she wore. Somewhere in his mind, he recalled plain white underwear the last time they'd done this. He mumbled against her mouth, "You bought this for me."

"Y-yes.

Pushing her hair out of the way, he kissed her neck, her back, her shoulder blades, then drew her around again and pressed her against the wood of the door. Those eyes widened now and glimmered even more.

He took her mouth, devoured it, explored the inner recesses, then felt her reach for his jacket. He whipped it and his shirt off, still kissing her. She'd unbuckled his belt, and he stepped away to shuck the rest of his clothing, stopping only to take out a condom and roll it on. Then he rid her of her panties but left on the enticing bra.

"Now, Adam." Her voice was raw, urgent as she took his cock in her hands. She was all heat and heart and he couldn't wait to have her.

He gave a long, low animal-like groan. Lifting her up, he braced her against the door and plunged into her. And thrust. And thrust. Then he couldn't think at all.

Later, though, he remembered that before he practically lost consciousness, he'd whispered, "Mine, all mine."

# Chapter 12

Paulina sat next to Adam in the bright sunlight of Yankee Stadium. The new arena was huge and flashy. But Adam liked the popcorn smell, the rabid fans' raucous outbursts and the slice of gritty New York life.

Next to him, Paulina cupped her hands and yelled, "We need a run, Gardner."

The guy behind her quipped, "He'll get it, little lady."

She rolled her eyes under the Yankees ball cap he'd bought her to keep her face from getting burned. Their night at the casino had been over a week ago and he hadn't seen her because she'd been so busy—or so she said. He wondered if his comment the night they'd made love against the door had spooked her.

Mine, all mine. Words he'd never uttered before. With anyone. God only knew why he'd said that to her. He wasn't ready to investigate what that meant.

She was free, though, when he'd called to say he'd gotten tickets to a baseball game for Sunday afternoon. She'd once told him she loved the Yankees.

The batter hit a long one to right field. "It's going to be a foul ball," she said, disgusted.

"I don't think so." Just as Adam finished the last word, the ball went over the fence.

The whole Yankee crowd rose to their feet yelling, "See ya!"

She laughed and jumped up and down. "This is so great. Man, my kids would die if they knew I was here without them."

When the noise dwindled, Adam said, "I could have gotten more tickets."

Dropping to the bench, she sipped the beer she held. And went quiet. This had happened whenever he suggested meeting her kids; she sidestepped the requests. She also met him most places now, instead of his picking her up.

I'm not looking for anything serious. Just some fun.

He put her exclusion of certain areas of her life out of his mind most of the time because he'd agreed to her terms. Still, today, it niggled at him.

When the game ended, she said, "Thank you so much, Adam. This was fun."

It had been. "Where to now? It's only five. Want to eat?"

She shook her head. "I can't. I have to get home and help Ben with his homework. Nia texted me and said he wouldn't let her do it."

Battling back his disappointment, and damn, the irritation that she was so stingy with her time, he said calmly, "All right. We'll drive you home."

She hesitated. Then, "That would work."

When they pulled up in front of her house, he stayed her hand when she reached for the door. "I'd like to talk to you about something." He put up the privacy screen.

"Um, what?"

"Remember how you set the parameters that Monday morning in my office?"

"Yes, of course. We agreed we weren't looking for anything serious." Not quite. She'd insisted. But then, he hadn't argued with her, either.

"Not getting serious doesn't necessarily mean I can't meet your kids."

"Of course it does, Adam. The boys might get attached to you."

"By going to a baseball game? Or getting pizza?"

The expression on her face was puzzled. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Because they're part of you."

She sat back and stared out the window. He liked how she thought before she spoke, though now he was impatient. "I'll think about it. But I'm not leaning toward changing things." He let it go. Again.

Once she got in the house, Joe buzzed down the window. "Where to, boss?"

"You hungry, Joe?"

"Always."

"Let's get food."

"Ms. Pettrone wasn't hungry?"

"She has kid commitments."

"That's what happens when you date a mother."

"I suppose." But he could be introduced to this side of her life.

And was surprised at himself that he wanted to be.

oOo

Upset, Paulina walked into the house just before six, her mind whirling with thoughts of Adam—his words today and the night at the casino when he, probably unconsciously, had said mine, all mine.

Hearing sounds in the family room, she headed straight to the back of the house, where Ben would be pouting at Paulina's absence. She tried to go into mother mode but found it hard to change gears so fast.

"Hi, guys," she said as normally as possible.

Ben looked up. Not only was his brow set in a frown as he'd been working on a paper in front of him but when he saw her, he said, "What the heck is that on your head?"

Oh, God, she'd been so distracted by Adam that she'd forgotten to take off the Yankees hat. "It's, um, something I wore today."

The boy rushed over and, before she could stop him, grabbed the cap off her head and examined it. "It's new."

"Yeah, somebody just gave it to me."

Ben's expression grew into a scowl. Tommy, her easy one, joined his brother, and at least he was neutral. He said, "Your face is red."

"Like the sun did it," Sal added from his own table.

Just then, Nia entered the room. "Hey, you're back. Hi." Her eyes widened. At the fucking hat! But she said calmly, "What's going on here?"

"Mommy went to a Yankees game without us." These were bitter words from Ben. After the guys died, she and Nia agreed not to lie to the boys unless the truth would hurt them unnecessarily. And they were the adults in the situation, so they'd decide.

Nia stepped closer. "Did she tell you that?"

"Um, no."

"Nope."

"Ben guessed," Sal put in.

"I think you're wrong."

"Nia..."

"No, let me handle this. Mommy had some people to see today. She had the hat on when she left this morning. One of the guys at work got it for her when he went to a game."

Sal and Tommy said nothing. Ben scowled. Paulina guessed he thought this was a fib. But she stood by and let Nia do her thing. A wave of love, that Nia knew her so well and cared so much about her that she'd take over, swept through her.

Finally, the boys went back to their tables, and Paulina sent Nia a grateful look. Then Paulina approached the kids. "Okay, who needs help?"

"I do," Tommy said.

"Do you, Ben?"

"I guess."

The awkward moment passed, thank the good Lord. It wasn't until the kids were in bed and asleep that Paulina went to Nia's room. She found her sister on her bed, reading. The door was ajar, so she just walked in. "Can I talk to you a minute?"

"Of course." She patted the side of the bed and Paulina climbed on.

"Thanks for covering for me."

Her sister clasped her hand. "You needed it." Then a little chuckle. "And don't look so guilty. It's not the first time I got you out of a jam."

Remembering, Paulina smiled. "When I snuck out to meet Donnie after his away basketball game and Matka asked how I slept the night before."

"I said you snored." Another smile. "You covered for me when Peter and I were making out in our room and Matka came home."

"Yeah, and it was tough to distract Matka."

"So, don't sweat it." Pointedly, she added, "That, at least. Something else is bothering you."

"Yeah." She sank into the pillows and looked up at the ceiling. "Adam's not happy."

"Ah. At least you didn't get hurt, because you didn't invest in the relationship."

"He didn't ditch me, Nia. He wants more from me."

"More, as in...?"

"He wants to meet the boys."

Nia's small intake of breath was telling.

"Don't worry, I told him it would be too confusing for them. That since he and I aren't serious, meeting them would give the wrong message."

"I agree."

"I know you do. That's not all."

Nia leaned over so she could see Paulina's face.

"I think he wants the relationship to go further. For it to get more serious."

"But you told him you didn't want it to."

"I know. He said that was okay."

"Hmm." Then, "You seem upset that he's unhappy."

"I guess I am."

"Do you want more from him?"

"I might, Nia, but our lifestyles are so incompatible. I can't see it working."

"Honey, I'm sorry this is hard for you. But someone will come along who's more like us, and you can have a...solid relationship with him."

"I know." Though the thought of losing Adam and finding someone else was painful. "Thanks for listening and not getting upset."

"I'm only sad you're hurting. I want you to be happy, Paulie."

"I know, thanks."

"Now, let's talk about more funny times we covered for each other."

"Remember when you came home tipsy...?"

# Chapter 13

Because he didn't know what the hell he was feeling or maybe didn't want to admit it, Adam worked like a dog for most of the week. He pursued a job he hadn't planned to bid on, he put in long hours and buried himself in what was real, what never let him down—his designs. On the third night, exhausted but paradoxically still wound up, he headed to the country club for a drink. He thought about calling his father to meet him, but Adam would be rotten company, so he went alone. Maybe his golfing buddies would be there, and he'd be able to lose himself in no-mind conversation.

He walked into the club, which he liked and Paulina probably would hate; he swore at himself for the latter thought. Damn it, she wasn't coming here with him tonight! Entering the mahogany-paneled room, horseshoe in shape, with a polished wood bar, he sidled up to it and took a seat on a plush leather stool with a firm back. When his manhattan came, he sipped the strong drink and considered his life. A life he'd liked until you-know-who had entered it. He loved his job, adored his father, who was his best friend, and appreciated his colleagues and golfing pals. He had a circle of acquaintances he enjoyed spending time with, had plenty of money and more material things than he needed.

You like all that stuff?

"Arrgh." Get out of my head, woman.

"Adam?"

He turned to find a woman beside him. "Elyssa?"

"I was here for a board meeting, then had a drink with the other members. I'm surprised to see you."

"Why? I come to the club a lot."

"Not lately."

"I have been busy."

"Can I sit?"

"Yes, of course." He stood and slid out a stool for her, then dropped back down on his own.

"Have you been well?" she asked.

"Now, that's a good question."

She cocked her head. She was a lovely woman, perfectly his type, who he'd given up for what, he wondered now. "I thought perhaps you'd be happier during our break from each other." Since she'd brought a glass of wine, she sipped it and waited for a response.

"I thought I would be, too. And I am, in some ways."

A very female laugh. "As I told you then, if you changed your mind, found being apart wasn't what you wanted, and I was still free, I might consider dating again."

"That, you did."

She sighed. "You know you do this with your life. Even before we started seeing each other, I've watched you go from woman to woman and break the relationship off before it gets serious. I think you like being the illusive bachelor." Maybe he did. Or maybe he had.

"I don't know, Elyssa. You could be right."

"I'm not criticizing you. Just stating a fact. You should think about what you truly want."

And that, he thought, was the problem.

Her expression was sexy, alluring. "Now, why don't you buy me another glass of wine and we'll see where the evening goes?"

Maybe he should do that, he thought, until, as he called over the bartender, he remembered Paulina's words.

I can't sleep with a man who's sleeping with other women. It's just not me.

Fuck!

oOo

Paulina was in the trailer, poring over the plans for the back stage of the music hall when the door opened. She turned to find Adam in the entrance. Her heart leaped in her chest, but she tried to keep her voice even. They hadn't talked since the Yankees game. "Hi. Thanks for coming out."

"No problem." He crossed to her and went to kiss her.

She stepped away. "Not here, Adam."

Frowning, he backed away. "All right, let's look at the plans."

They turned to the blueprints. His scent rose up to fill her head, and just that made her warm. They might be in different places about how the dating should go, but nothing had diluted her visceral reaction to him.

His brows drew together as he studied the notations she'd made. "Hmm."

"The problem isn't with the design."

"I know. But you think the dressing room square footage allows for more space than each of them needs?"

"I do. I know the guest and solo performers need room and time alone, but if we..."

It took him an hour to redraw the area. He sat down, totally focused on the plans and sketched out possible changes. She'd done some office work and he called her over when he was done. He pointed to one. "I think this is the best."

"I do, too. Thanks for being so agreeable about this."

"Plans always need changes. The problem comes in when builders do it without consulting the architects."

"I can see why. There are things I'd never have known to do. Besides, this wasn't a small change. Can you initial the plans now?"

Standing, he rolled down his sleeves. Again, she was distracted by his muscles and the dusting of light hair on them. "I'd rather not. My structural engineer should okay them."

"All right. But can she do it today?"

"I'll make sure of it. You can begin work on this tomorrow."

"You can messenger them over in the morning."

He stepped back and studied her. "Or I can bring them out tonight. And we could grab some dinner." His voice pitched lower. "I haven't seen you in four days."

"Um, I can't tonight."

"Why?"

A knock on the door interrupted her response. Paulina was glad. Until a man carrying a big bouquet of purple and pink flowers walked in. "Paulina or Nia Pettrone?"

"I'm Paulina."

"Happy Birthday."

She sensed Adam stiffen behind her.

"Thanks."

The delivery man set the bouquet on the table and left after she tipped him.

Adam crossed to the flowers and plucked out the card. "Sorry I can't be there for the big day. Enjoy the celebration, you two. Lukasz."

He had no right to check the sender without her permission, but she ignored his action because she could tell from the expression on his face that he was hurt. "They're from my brother."

"Yes, I see that. What I wasn't aware of is that today's your birthday."

"Nia's, too," she said stupidly.

His usually warm gaze turned cold. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think of it."

"What's the celebration that Luke can't be part of?"

"Just a small party with the family."

Stepping back, he gave her a sharp nod. "I need to get to town for a meeting."

"Okay. Thanks again for coming out here."

Without responding, he strode to the door.

Before he opened it, she said, "Adam, wait."

Still facing away from her, he halted. She came up to him and got between him and the door. "You can give me a birthday kiss."

One of those sexy blond brows arched. "You just said not here."

"I know. I can tell you're upset about not knowing it was my birthday. I'm sorry, I should have thought of that and told you."

He sighed and took her face between his hands. Lowered his head and kissed her. Firmly. Seriously. Then he moved back. "I'll see you soon, I hope. Let me know when you're free."

She wanted to leave with him. She wanted to be with him in the worst way, especially today, on her birthday. She leaned against the door and closed her eyes. After a moment, she opened them and saw Nia at the window, watching her.

oOo

Driving his sport coupe, Adam picked up Paulina and headed out of town. She'd called him the day after her birthday and asked him out for the following Saturday. He'd been more hurt than annoyed at her keeping her birthday from him—and not asking him to the party?—and needed to see her. He'd planned a special day.

He gestured to her yellow sundress and light sweater. "You look cute today." He'd decided to pretend there was no tension between them.

"Thanks."

They stopped an hour away from New York; she glanced at the sign. "The Tristan Gardens? I've never heard of this place."

"It's new. They're planning to feature all kinds of displays among their trees, bushes and flowers."

"You like flowers?"

"Uh-huh. But there's more than that here today."

She glanced around. "Why isn't anybody else around?"

"Because the exhibit doesn't officially open until next week. I know the people here."

Her gaze caught on lovely carved gates, which had to span ten feet. "Wow, that's beautiful." Over them, she could see a pavilion rise high into the air. "Adam, did you design this place?"

"Yes. Remember, I told you about it that first day we talked about a sculpture garden in the back of the music hall."

"No, I don't remember that."

"You won't forget this."

"What?"

"I'd rather show you."

Picking up his phone, he punched in a number. "We're here, Jay." To her he said, "The owner's coming to meet me."

They didn't have to wait long. The gates opened and inside was an older man dressed casually in shorts and a T-shirt. "Hey, Adam, nice to see you again."

"You, too." He introduced Jay to Paulina.

"This the lady you want to impress?"

Smiling, he slid his arm around her. "Yep. How's the installation going?"

"Just about finished. But it's not cleaned up. You sure you don't want to wait until next week when we're open for viewers?"

"Nope. We'll come back again, I'm sure."

"Then have at it."

"Adam, what is this place?" she asked as the owner went back into the building.

"Walk with me. Just a bit. You'll see for yourself."

They wended their way through an explosion of colors and greens. And in the midst of it was The Burghers of Calais.

She gasped. Stopped. Stared. Then faced him. "Is it real?"

"Inasmuch as any of Rodin's work is. He considered his real art the bronze molds and plaster casts that could manufacture his sculpture."

"I know."

"There's only ten of these in existence."

"Wow."

"Twenty years ago, there was a big Rodin show at Rockefeller Center."

"I was only ten. Is this the same show?"

"Yes. It's on floating loan from the Cantor Collection. Jay has connections."

She sidled up to the statues. Still openmouthed, she stared at the sculpture of the head citizens of Calais, who had been willing to sacrifice themselves to save the country. "Look at those ropes and chains. They seem real."

After five minutes, he grasped her arm. "There's more, honey."

A few yards down, they came to The Three Shades. "Oh, Adam, look. This one's known for Michelangelo's influence. I can see the resemblances."

"It stood at the top of the famous Gates of Hell."

"I know. I'd love to see the whole gate."

Maybe someday, Adam thought to himself.

Paulina's reaction to the rest of the exhibit was the same. Awestruck. Absorbed. And happy.

Until they reached the last sculpture. When Paulina saw The Thinker, she shocked the hell out of him and burst into tears.

oOo

Paulina let herself go with Adam that night as she never had before. As if in slow motion, his every touch was intensified, made her burn and sizzle. His lips brushed her mouth, her breasts, her rib cage with the tenderness of a man who might not ever get the chance to do what he was doing again. The climax came, and it was like going over a waterfall, gently, easily, and it continued until she could barely move.

When he was inside her, Adam was overcome with feeling. So overcome, he had to let the physical take over because he couldn't tolerate the extreme emotion. Pleasure rushed through him, and he lost himself in her in a way he'd never, ever done before.

Neither spoke afterward. They'd said more with their bodies than they'd intended to.

oOo

Later, Paulina did say, "I have to go." Her voice was breathy. They'd fallen asleep and awakened to make love again. "I need to be home when the kids get up."

Next to her, holding her, he hugged her tighter. "I want you to stay. Always."

She stiffened in his arms. "I know. It would be nice if we had more freedom than we do. I'm sorry. But I'm a mom first."

Waiting a beat, he spoke. "I know that, Paulina. And it's not what I meant, which I suspect you also know."

Again, silence. Then she sat up and pulled the brown sheets to her chest. "Don't spoil this, Adam."

He linked his hands behind his head. "Spoil what?"

"What we have together. It's been wonderful being with you these last two months. I've had so much fun. And today was the best."

"You've had fun with me." He could hear the ice in his tone.

"Of course. I have to—" He reached out and crossed his arm over her lap, effectively trapping her. Her eyes widened.

"Don't diminish what's happened these last weeks, Paulina. Please."

"I'm not."

"We've gotten close."

Her shoulders sagged. "I know, Adam. And I've accepted that. I've tried to show you that."

Aw, shit. He sat up and faced her. "You have. And I think you know what I'm getting at. But in case you don't, it's time to take this relationship to the next level." Until he said the words, he hadn't realized he'd never said them to a woman since his divorce.

Paulina sat staring at him. In her eyes, he saw conflict. Turmoil. Finally, she said, "Adam, I like you a lot. I love being with you. But there's no next level for us. I thought you understood that."

"Oh, I did. Every time you refused to let me meet your kids, be a part of your birthday, have a meal at your house."

Her brow furrowed. "And you're hurt by all that."

"I'm not sure what I'm feeling. No, that's not true. What I know is that I want to be more a part of your life. In all aspects."

"That's not possible."

"Of course it is. For some reason—our differences, I guess, you won't give us a chance."

"I told you from the beginning that I don't want anything serious with you!" Her words were crisp. Cold. "I told you that when we first started out. And you agreed."

Time for a different tack. He was losing her. "I'll concede to that. What if I've changed and want something serious with you now?"

Biting her lip, she ran a hand through her hair, messing it even more. Stupidly, he noted the tangles he'd put in it. He'd like to brush it out himself. Jesus, what was happening to him?

When she looked directly at him, he saw the answer he didn't want in her eyes. And her words were going to cut like a scalpel. "We're too different, Adam. If I ever get serious with anyone, he'll have to be more like Donnie."

# Chapter 14

It had been three days since that awful night at Adam's, and Paulina felt battered inside.

She'd taken to running in the evenings, which she hated, but the only way she could sleep was to exhaust herself physically. Tonight, she'd waited until everyone was in bed, then crept outside and headed for the nearby park, which was lit up until midnight. She blanked her mind by counting her steps. One, two...eighteen...fifty-six. Her foot caught on something and she pitched forward, landing face first in the cool grass. Rolling over on her back, she stared up at the stars.

Are you embarrassed we did this out here? he'd asked.

No, I like making love outside.

You did this before?

Sure. Haven't you?

Never.

Damn it all. She didn't need to think about that first night they'd made love. It was equally hard to recall the last time they were together, their last exchange after she'd made what she saw now as a hurtful statement...

We're too different, Adam. If I ever get serious with anyone, he'll have to be more like Donnie.

The thoughtless remark had silenced him, but the expression on his face spoke volumes.

She'd reached for his hand, but he shrugged her off, slid from the bed and slipped on pants. Get out of my bed, Paulina, and out of my life...

And she had.

But since then, she'd been absolutely miserable.

"It'll go away," she told herself. But would it?

Slowly, she got to her feet. And found she was unable to stand up straight. Her ankle hurt like hell. It took twenty minutes to limp her way home in the cool, hostile darkness.

oOo

Donuta was in the kitchen brewing herbal tea when her daughter came through the door. She'd ignored what was happening with Paulina for two nights. But no more. "Sit down, kochanie."

Paulina tried to make her way to the table without Donuta noticing her limp. It was a fool's errand.

"How did you hurt yourself?"

"I tripped over a branch and fell. At least I was in the grass."

Without saying more, Donuta went to the refrigerator and took out a cold pack. She stopped at the sink to get paper towels. When Paulina's leg was propped up with the ice wrapped around it, Donuta patted the child's face with a wet one. "Ouch."

"You have scrapes on your cheek and forehead."

"Great."

After cleaning them and adding ointment from the first-aid kit she kept in the cupboard, Donuta sat down and took Paulina's hand. It was swollen. "Speak to me, corka. What has happened?"

The pain in her lovely eyes was familiar. Donuta had seen it before. She knew this one wouldn't lie to her. "Adam wants more from the relationship than I do. He doesn't want to see me again because of it."

"If he feels so strongly, it probably hurts to be in your presence."

Paulina's eyes closed. "I don't want him to hurt. I want things the way they were."

"That appears to be impossible now."

"Matka, I can't change what I feel."

"Do you know what you feel?"

"Of course I do. We're from two different worlds. Someday, down the road, I might want to get serious about a guy, but for Christ's sake, I just started dating."

"Don't use the Lord's name in vain."

"Sorry. We're just too different, Matka."

"And you have no common ground?"

"Not in the important things. Can you see me at one of those fancy galas drinking beer from a bottle? I'd shame him."

"The shame is on you. To be embarrassed about your background."

"I'm not. I would embarrass him, that's all."

"Hmm. I do not embarrass Gerald. Then Adam is more of a shallow man?"

Paulina didn't say anything, but her brows furrowed. "No, of course not. He's successful but is kind to others. He's got a deep bond with his father. And he's on the boards of charities."

"Qualities and interests you obviously don't share."

"No need to be sarcastic, Matka."

"I do not know what you need, Paulina. Or want. And you apparently do not, either."

Tears welled in her eyes. "I miss Donnie. I didn't want to be dating, looking for a man at this point in my life."

Though it hurt Donuta to do this, she had to be firm now. "You have to do those things. Donnie's gone. You must live your life with what fate has given you."

Her chin lifted. "With someone more like Donnie, then."

"That is sacrilegious. You cannot replace him."

Her daughter gasped. "I'm not trying to do that."

Donuta shook her head. "My opinion is different from yours."

"And mine counts."

Donuta sighed. "Kocham ciebie, corka. I did not mean to upset you. You should go to bed. You'll feel better in the morning." With that, Donuta stood and left Paulina alone with her thoughts. She'd done all she could do tonight.

oOo

"Son of a fucking bitch." Adam smacked the ball to the front wall of the court, and swore when it bounced back and hit him in the shoulder. His skin would be bruised. Like his heart.

"No, no more. I'm not doing this." This referred to his behavior in the three days since he and Paulina Pettrone had parted ways. Shit, since she dumped him. Just because he'd never been dumped didn't mean he shouldn't admit what had happened.

He rocketed another ball forward. This one bounced over his head and hit the back wall. Catching the little sphere midflight, he pounded it again, and it ricocheted toward him, narrowly missing his head.

The door to the court opened. "You'd better stop, son. I was watching you from the window. You're going to hurt yourself."

Turning, Adam saw his dad in the entryway. He leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. Andrew Armstrong, dressed in golf clothes, crossed the court and sat down next to him.

"Want to talk about it?" his father asked.

"No."

"Is this why you've been avoiding me?"

"Yes."

"Because of Paulina Pettrone?"

"Damn it, Dad, I said I didn't want to talk about her." When he realized he'd yelled at his father, he put his hands on his forehead. "I'm sorry."

"At least I know how serious this is."

There had been few cross words between him and his dad in their lifetime. His mother had died so young, and the two guys had only each other. Adam had spent his whole life trying not to hurt or disappoint his father. In return, his father had doted on him.

"She dumped me."

Eyebrows identical to his skyrocketed. "Why?"

"Because I wanted more from her. She said no."

"I thought you were happy with the casual nature of your relationship?"

Adam shook his head.

"This is like pulling teeth, Adam. Just tell me what the hell happened."

Maybe getting it out would loosen the vise in his chest. "I care about her. But I'm not keen on being with her and knowing I care more than she does."

"So you're going to give up?"

"Yep! Plenty of female fish in the dating sea."

"You're thirty-seven years old. Those fish have never appealed to you. Maybe you've been swimming in the wrong pool."

"And look what happened when I ventured out of it."

"You fell in love."

"Oh, God, Dad, don't say that. I got my feelings hurt, nothing more."

"If you say so." His father stood. "Think about what I said, though. I've got to get out on the greens."

Adam grunted. The last thing he was going to do was think about the possibility that he'd fallen in love with her. Not when he couldn't get out of his mind the haunting words she'd said to him.

If I ever get serious with anyone, he'll have to be more like Donnie.

oOo

Frank said, "Adam Armstrong's coming out today."

Paulina, stretched to the limit, snarled up at him. "What?"

"We need to talk about the foundations for the sculpture garden. The borough board wants them to be uniform."

"And why don't I know about this, Frank?" Her voice rose, making heads turn as they were outside in front of the shell of the music hall. Cool Paulina never yelled at anyone.

Her foreman threw his hard hat into the dirt. Silence descended on the site. Gray clouds had formed above, but they were nothing compared to the mood on the ground. "Because you've been a bitch this last week, Paulina. I'm sorry, but somebody's got to tell you or we're going to lose our workers."

"How dare you talk to me like that?"

From behind her, she heard, "Let's go for a ride, Paulina."

Whirling around, Paulina faced her sister. "Did you know about this?"

Nia was a marshmallow most of the time. But not always. "That you've been a bitch? Yes. Why? I have no idea because you won't talk to me." Moving close, she got in Paulina's face, which was shocking. "Now get in the truck or I'll ask the guys to corral you and force you inside." Nia arched a brow. "I'm sure they'd love to do that right about now."

Always a sore loser, Paulina stomped to the truck. Got in. Slammed the door. As soon as Nia started the engine and drove away from the site, Paulina buried her face in her hands and started to cry. Nia didn't say anything. Just drove down the road and let her get it all out. When the tears subsided, Nia turned into a parking lot and handed her tissues.

"What happened with Adam? I asked Matka and she said to talk to you. So I'm asking."

Because she'd had no sleep, because she was sick of herself and her rotten mood, she blurted out the whole story.

Nia listened, then was thoughtful. "For what it's worth, I think you made the right decision. I told you that before. But I could be wrong. You need to examine why you're so upset."

"No, Nia," she said, defeated. "I need to find a way to handle the split between us better."

"By tomorrow night?"

"What? Why?"

"The Sculpture Garden fundraiser is tomorrow."

"Oh, hell." She thought about facing Adam in a crowd of strangers. "I'm not going."

"You have to."

"No, I don't."

"Well, okay. I hope the others understand."

"Who?"

"All our siblings are coming."

"I forgot." She shrugged. "You can lie for me. Tell them I'm sick. They'll believe it if you tell them."

Nia grabbed Paulina's hand. "If you want me to, sweetie, I will. But that's not the right thing to do. Either get over him now, or change your mind about seeing him. But being a wimp isn't your style." Nia smiled. "That's usually me. The fearful one. I know how hard it is to be strong. But buck up, Paulie. And make your way through this."

"Thanks for the sympathy," she said sarcastically. "It's only been a few days."

"To get over a man you don't care deeply about? What's the problem?"

Paulina sat back in the truck and stared ahead. She didn't know what to do with Nia like this. She'd rarely seen this side of her. And did not like having it turned on her.

oOo

When Adam arrived at the site, he looked around and didn't see Paulina's truck. Both relieved, and hugely disappointed, he said to Joe, "Wait for me. I'm not staying."

"Okay, boss."

"What's gotten into you?" he asked. "No ribbing? No wisecracks?"

Unsmiling, Joe caught his gaze in the mirror. "I don't kick a guy when he's down, Adam."

The exchange with Joe didn't make him feel any better about being at the music hall site. He was mad. And at the same time he wanted, badly, to see Paulina. But why? She'd made her position clear. Nothing was going to change. He walked to the trailer and knocked on the half open door.

Frank said, "Come in, Adam."

Once inside, he didn't look at the space where he'd once kissed Paulina senseless. He didn't check out her desk to see if she'd been in to work today. He crossed right to the foreman. "You said you wanted some suggestions for the sculpture-garden bases," he said as civilly as he could. "I sketched some possibilities."

He'd been up all night, drawing and redrawing, wishing he had Paulina's input, remembering when they'd conceived of this idea in the trees out back.

When he was finished showing his work to Frank, Adam said, "These enough to choose from?"

"Yes. I'll run them by the team."

He wouldn't ask where she was.

Adam stood and Frank did, too. The foreman's face turned grim. "Now that we're done with that, man to man, I'm gonna ask you something and I want a straight answer. Donnie Pettrone was my best friend. What'd you do to his wife to make her so miserable?"

His wife. Now didn't that say it all?

He thought about snapping back that he didn't have to answer to her employee. But he wouldn't be rude to her friends. "It was a mistake to date her. She agrees. I have no idea why she'd be miserable. Now, if you'll excuse me." With that he stalked outside.

And bumped into Paulina. She stumbled backward and he reached out to steady her.

When she righted herself, her eyes widened like twin moons. "Um, hi," she said recovering first.

"Hello, Paulina." He brushed past her and had made it halfway to the car when he felt a tug on his bare arm. "Wait, Adam. Can we talk?"

Closing his eyes, he prayed for strength. "I gave Frank several drawings of bases. You all can choose."

"Not about that."

"About what?"

"About us."

He pivoted to face her. "Why? You made it clear that I'm good enough to fuck you but not meet your kids."

She recoiled back. For a minute, she just stared at him. "I'm sorry."

"What? That you used me for sex?"

"Well, yes. No. I mean, I didn't think I was doing that, but if I did, I am sorry."

"Apology accepted." He made to leave, but she stayed his arm again.

"Don't go."

Now anger superseded the hurt. It felt good. "Have you changed your mind about us?"

"Not really. But I've been miserable. Maybe we can..."

Might as well go for broke. "My mother says I'm in love with you. Do you feel that way about me?"

"No, no, not love. But..."

"Face it, Paulina. You'll only ever love Donnie. Any new guy on the scene is going to play second fiddle and have to be happy with his standing in your life. But it's not going to be me."

Still she held on to his arm. "Adam, it's too soon for this. We haven't been seeing each other that long. So, I'm wondering..."

"No," he said flatly, cutting her off. "Just no!" And this time, he walked away.

When he got back inside the car, Joe turned around. "What happened just now?"

"She told me she doesn't love me."

"Shit."

"Yeah," Adam said. "Shit."

# Chapter 15

Paulina lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She was a coward. But she couldn't see Adam tonight. The anger and hurt on his face from their encounter yesterday killed her. And he'd rejected her outreach to him. Which, she'd had to admit to herself, had been paltry. Instead of thinking about what she'd done, Paulina buried her head in the pillow and willed herself to sleep. Since the boys were with their grandparents, she wouldn't be disturbed. Exhausted, she wanted only blissful oblivion.

The door opened and she heard a rustling sound. "So, you're not going?"

Opening her eyes, Paulina saw her sister dressed in a deep pink suit with high black heels. "I said I wasn't. You look nice."

"Thanks." Nia gestured to the closet. "I got the sequined blue dress you bought for your overnight with Adam dry cleaned, if you change your mind."

"I won't."

Nia sat down on the edge of the mattress. The pretty scent of her flowery perfume drifted over to her. "You should come to the fundraiser."

"Nia, don't start. We already hashed this out."

"I've been thinking about it nonstop since we talked. And finally figured something out." Paulina put the pillow over her ears, like a child.

Nia yanked it way. "Stop that!" Her sister took a deep breath. "I want you to give Adam another chance."

"I tried to get him to talk to me yesterday. He wouldn't."

"Yeah, the mood you were in, I'm sure that you were a sweetheart."

Paulina flipped over on her back. "Nia, why are you being so stubborn about all this? You don't want me to have this relationship."

"Because I think your attitude is partially my fault. I encouraged you not to get involved with him emotionally. I filled your head with the notion that you have to hook up with somebody like Donnie."

"I'm an adult. I make my own decisions." She turned her head away, though, because she knew she wasn't behaving like one.

"All right." Paulina heard sniffles and sat up to get a better look at her sister. "There are tears in your eyes. Why, honey?"

"I don't want you to end up like me. Be like I am. I can't move forward. I can't leave my past. But I don't wish that on you, Paulie. I want you to be happy."

She grabbed her sister to her. "Oh, Nia, it's not too late for you."

"Then, it's not too late for you, either."

oOo

Somebody had pulled strings, so the fundraiser for the sculpture garden was held in the outdoor section of the Mitchell Modern Art Museum, second only to MOMA. As part of their permanent collection, the museum housed many modern sculptors' work: classics from Degas to Picasso to Rodin, as well as more current artists like Maillol and Moore. Adam made his way through the gate to the main outside area. The night was balmy in mid-June at 6:00 p.m., and guests had already arrived.

Elyssa approached him. "Hello, Adam."

"Elyssa. Sorry I'm late after you worked so hard on this evening, despite everything."

"Tardiness is unusual for you." Her gaze narrowed on him. "No date?"

"I'm solo tonight."

She seemed sincere when she said, "I hope you find what you're looking for, Adam." She glanced over his shoulder. "I have to talk to the mayor. I'll seek you out later."

Adam hoped she didn't. He would be miserable company. Studying the area, he caught sight of a group of eight people enter the gardens. The Ludzecky clan. All that long blond hair, those statuesque builds. And one of the guys must be the hero brother. He didn't see Paulina, though. Huh! He knew from what she'd told him that her siblings would be here. Since she never planned on introducing them to him, he turned his back and wandered around.

He stopped to talk to potential donors, checked out the drawings he'd done for the music hall, which were all fancied up now, and sighed when he noticed the trees where he and Paulina had made love. A stiff Scotch loosened him up, and he was glad to see his father approach him. With a woman on his arm? Adam was surprised. His dad had dated, of course, but nothing had lasted very long.

"Adam." Andrew clapped his son on the back. "I'd like you to meet Sara Sanders. Sara, my son, Adam."

"Hello, Adam. I've been asking to meet you for weeks."

"Weeks?" He looked to his dad.

"Yes. Sara and I have been seeing each other since March."

"I—" He caught himself. "Sara, nice to meet you. I'm sorry it wasn't sooner."

"Me, too. Perhaps Andrew will tell us why."

"Soon, but not now." A band in the corner began to play. "Let's dance."

Several couples went out to the floor. And Adam watched his father with a heavy heart.

Even his dad was getting his girl. And he hadn't told Adam because of his circumstances with Paulina. Hell, why hadn't he heard her out yesterday?

Don't go.

Have you changed your mind?

Not really. But I've been miserable. Maybe we can...

Adam's gaze snagged on two people who went up to his dad. The man was Gerald Callahan, and the woman was Paulina's mother. Fuck it! Donuta had a boyfriend, a man from Adam's world. Donuta didn't have problems with it.

"You look like you're about to bite somebody's head off."

Turning, Adam found Rafe Castle behind him. "Hello, Rafe. Nice to see you again."

"You, too. You seem mad as hell."

"I am in a bad mood." He shook his head. "Let's talk about something pleasant. How's your work going?"

"I was invited to this shindig, too, and I have a show coming up at this gallery, so I was here already. I'm working on the details."

"Great. I'll be sure to come to see it."

"I'll send you an invite."

"Hmm."

Rafe tracked Adam's gaze. "You keep checking out that table. Who are all those blondes?"

"Just a family I know."

"I'll let you go talk to them." He nodded to Adam. "See you in a month."

After Rafe left, Adam decided to bite the bullet and crossed to the Ludzecky family. There were ten of them seated around the table, and he was reminded of the photo of women at the wedding. Minus one—Paulina.

"I came to say hello, and thank you for all your support of the gardens in the music hall."

"Hello, Adam," Paulina's twin said.

"Hi, Nia."

Someone waved at him from the other side of the table. "Hi, Adam." The lovely Caterina.

"This is my husband, Aidan O'Neil."

"Ah, yes. You donated a picture for the fundraiser where I met your wife." And I bought it. Thankfully, the buyers remained anonymous.

Aidan gave him a small grin. "I heard you were acquainted with this family. Good luck, buddy."

"Adam? As in Adam Armstrong?" a deep voice said.

Adam nodded and the guy stood. He didn't hold out his hand to shake. He resembled the girls, but masculinity emanated from his muscular build.

"Luke Ludzecky. I heard all about you."

Four blondes spoke simultaneously.

"I didn't."

"Who is he?"

"Armstrong, the architect?"

"Ah, now it comes together."

Hell, this was ridiculous. So he asked brazenly, "Where is Paulina?"

"She's not here." This from Nia.

"Why?"

"She's sick. But it's because of you."

"It is?" Luke inched up to him. "What'd you do to my baby sister, Armstrong?"

"I think you have that reversed. Now, if you'll excuse me. I didn't want to be rude and ignore your family."

He was halfway across the room, headed toward the exit when someone touched his back. He turned to find Nia behind him.

"I'd like to talk to you alone, Adam. And no, you don't have any choice."

oOo

Her pulse beating fast because she knew this was a powerful man, Nia nonetheless raised her chin and faced him down. "You'll listen to me, Adam."

"So you said." Visibly trying to calm himself, Adam stepped back. "I won't be rude to you, Nia, but I can't handle a showdown right now with Paulina's sister."

"Neither could she handle one with you, which is why she didn't come to the fundraiser."

"You said she was sick because of me."

"She's heartbroken."

"She didn't seem so yesterday."

"If you'd looked more closely, you would have seen it." Nia folded her arms over her chest. "As it was, you weren't nice to her. She tried to reach out to you."

"Too little, too late, Nia."

Nia shook her head. "God, if I didn't think she was really into you, I wouldn't give you the time of day. So I'll just say this. Give her a break, Adam. We both had an unspeakable thing happen to us. And you're the first"—here, she poked him in the chest—"the only guy she's dated since then. I'd think you'd be more understanding." She stepped back for effect. "Perhaps it's best you broke it off. You're not the man I thought you were."

oOo

Paulina lay in bed long after Nia left, watching the sun set, watching the leaves that had filled in outside her window. And she was alone. Very alone. When Donnie died, there had been a hole in her heart the size of Texas. With each passing year, it dwindled and finally had settled into a tiny corner of her being. It was there and always would be. She didn't ever want it to go away. However tonight, there was a new, acute pain right alongside her loss of Donnie.

Getting up, she did something she hadn't done in months: she took out a photo album of Donnie and her. They'd kept one for each of the kids, the family, but also a private one that no one else had ever seen but the two of them.

Page one—them kissing at their wedding ceremony, at the reception, as they left family and friends. Then there were two on a single page: first of her in bed, sheets up to cover her breasts, a satisfied smile on her eighteen-year-old face. Then him, sexy as hell, bare chested, his hips just covered by the sheet. The pages continued through their too-short life together.

"Oh, Donnie," she said, her eyes damp. "Why did this happen?"

An accident, honey. Nothing more than that.

Since she'd made up the answer to the question, she asked another, hoping to find an antidote to the new pain inside her. "What am I going to do about other men?"

A long pause. Then her mind told her, It's time, love. You can't live your life alone.

All right, one last thing. "Is it Adam?"

Who knows? You won't know unless you give it a shot.

A few tears streamed down her cheeks, one dropping onto the old album page. She wiped it off with her fingertips.

She was still sitting there with the book in her lap when she got a text from Nia.

FYI, Adam left the fundraiser. I bumped into him as he was leaving. He didn't feel well and was going home. Remember what I said, sis!

Paulina scrubbed her face with her hands and took a deep breath. She might always cry when she saw that album, and she would always have that feeling of loss. But she didn't have to be alone. That was her choice, under her control.

So what are you waiting for, baby?

Bolting off the bed, she called a cab, shook out her hair, put on some makeup and the lovely blue dress. She was out the door in twenty minutes, just as the taxi arrived.

"Where to, Miss?"

"Fifty-seven west one-sixty, in the city." As the cab driver started away, she added, "And hurry."

oOo

"Hey, boss, she just got in a cab!"

"What?" Adam had left the window down between him and Joe and came to the edge of the seat.

"Right ahead. That yellow cab."

"What the hell is she doing? Nia said she was home sulking."

"Must be she got over it."

"I'm going to find out why. Follow the taxi."

Joe stayed close and it didn't take Adam long to figure out where she was headed. He sat back in the car. "I'll be damned."

When Paulina got out of the cab—God, she had that beautiful dress on that she'd bought for the casino weekend—he asked Joe not to pull right behind her. He let Paulina walk up to his building and ring the bell. Once, twice, then he came to the front of the house. "I'm right here, Paulina."

She whirled around. Stared at him a minute. He stilled. Then she closed the distance between them and threw herself into his arms. He caught her and held her tight. "Oh, Adam, I've been so miserable."

"Me, too."

"I had to come. I thought you'd be home by now. Nia texted me..."

"I went to your place. You were just getting into the cab."

"And you followed me?"

"At first, I didn't know where you were going."

She hugged him tight, then realizing he was holding her up, she slid so her feet were on the ground. "We have to talk."

"I know, love."

Hand in hand, they went into his place. She gestured to the room on the right. "Can we sit in here?"

They sat on the plush taupe leather couch. She was so close, he could smell the scent of her shampoo and some perfume. Reaching over, he grasped her hand again. "I'm sorry I was rude to you yesterday."

She clutched at his fingers. "No, I'm the one that's sorry. For being an idiot."

He watched her, the little frown between her brows, the way she bit her lip. "What does that mean?"

"I was stupid to run from you because you said things had changed for you."

"Wow, I didn't expect that."

"I realized things had changed for me, too, that I was more involved in our relationship than I admitted."

Letting go of her hand, he slid his arm around her and tugged her to him. She went willingly. "Tell me why."

"I was afraid. We are different. There'll be challenges."

Oh, thank God. She was talking about the future. "I know."

"And I always did picture myself with somebody like Donnie." He stiffened. "No, don't take that wrong. Why wouldn't I, Adam? I dated him since I was fifteen. I've never been with anyone but him until you. It was normal for me to feel that way."

"I suppose it was." Though it knocked at his male pride. But there was a lot at stake here, and he'd learned from what Nia had told him, so he'd tread lightly. "And now?"

"Now I think my feelings were normal, but you came along."

He held on to her words.

Lovingly, she touched his face. "I care about you so much, Adam. What happened was I tried to deny that my feelings were natural. And very powerful. But I'm not denying them anymore."

Kissing her head, "I can't tell you how glad I am to hear that. Are you done?"

"Mostly. Why?"

"Because I want to apologize for pushing too hard. My dad was right. I have been falling in love with you. But I should have been more patient. Let you come to what's between us and what could be between us, well, naturally, like you said."

"Will you give me time to do that now?"

"I will. If you want it."

"I do."

He smiled down at her. She was beautiful in this light, with that dress making her eyes glitter. "So, you don't need a Lifetime TV ending tonight?"

"Nah, I don't need that." Then she said dreamily, "But I always did want to be scooped up and carried off by a handsome man in a fit of passion."

Adam chuckled. "Well, then." He stood abruptly and slid his hands behind her back and under her knees. Lifting her, he cuddled her close. "You want passion, baby, you're going to get it in spades."

"Oh, good. I can't wait."

He stopped and kissed her nose. Then he said meaningfully, "I can, Paulina. I promise. I can wait."

-oOo-

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#  Author's Note

I've been fascinated by the Ludzecky sisters since I first wrote about them in PROMISES TO KEEP. Seven girls all younger than the book's hero, Luke. What would it be like to live in their house? Do sisters really get as close as these seven seem to be? How would this kind of love and support affect your future?

During the course of writing PROMISES TO KEEP, the sisters started to take on personalities, especially the youngest one, Elizabeita. And, of course, I returned to them in the second O'Neil book, CLOSE TO YOU, featuring Caterina, who followed in Luke's footsteps to join the Secret Service. Then the six girls and Luke appeared in her book. And in other O'Neil books. So it seemed natural to write their stories.

The six stories are built around a tragedy that happened three years before the first book opens. It isn't easy to inflict such an awful event as the death of the twin guys on such nice people, but I wanted to show what can happen after such a great loss, what are the effects on the widows and on the rest of this close-knit family. Matka foreshadows this in the prologue of BEGIN AGAIN.

I chose Paulina to go first because her story was easiest for me to write. I created her to be a woman who could recover from the loss, who could go on to live a full life, though it wouldn't be without complications. And of course, if she'd found someone other than Adam, more similar to who she is, she wouldn't have had such a difficult time. Truthfully, I think I'd be wary of trying to fit into Adam's world since I came from a background similar to Paulina's (Italian family, though, and only 4 sisters and a brother). So to me, everything she experienced seemed realistic.

As for Adam, if you're familiar with my other novels, you know I like to write about heroes from all walks of life, including those who have drivers and earn millions a year. The challenge with him was to make him likeable and down to earth enough for Paulina to care about him. Ultimately, his flaw is his assumption that he'll get his own way, and he does—he gets the girl!—but man, does he have to work for it.

The appearance of the rest of the sisters in this first book was also necessary and I hope I did it with a light hand. I wanted YOU, the reader, to be waiting for their stories.

Kathy Shay

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Be sure to read the rest of THE LUDZECKY SISTERS series as these six beautiful blond women try to make their way in the world after a tragedy strikes the family. Their stories will capture your heart.

In  PRIMARY COLORS, Nia Ludzecky is stuck in her grief and can't find a way out of her sorrow over the untimely death of her beloved husband. When she meets famous modern artist Rafe Castle, she's attracted to his gentle demeanor and lack of arrogance. But despite her feelings for him, she still finds it hard to leave the past behind and embrace love after loss. Rafe, however, doesn't give up on her.

 RISKY BUSINESS follows Magdalena Ludzecky, a career woman extraordinaire, who has everything, including Logan Price, her coworker and best friend outside of the family. But then they find attraction growing between them. And no, they both think, this can't happen! Do they have a chance at romance or are Logan and Magdalena going to lose each other forever? Plot twists abound in this friends to lovers tale.

In  THE WAY WE WERE, Ana Ludzecky had it all—a sexy husband, a beautiful daughter, a great job and the best extended family in the world. Then, tragedy strikes and her life turns upside down. Unable to bear the suffering of her sisters, she has trouble settling back into life with her husband Jared Creswell and their daughter. But Jared makes some bad choices that eventually lead to the dissolution of their marriage. Thrown together again, will the love that has never died surface and save them both?

At sixteen, Sofia Ludzecky, from  HANDLE WITH CARE, was diagnosed with leukemia and the disease changed her future. She's chosen a Zen lifestyle as a yoga studio owner and teacher. When she meets football Coach Max Walker at the high school where she's running a class, his outgoing personality, his bent for competition and his boisterous family upset her. But Max wants Sofia, and he's always gotten what he wants.

In  LOVE STORY, Elizabeita Ludzecky fears deeply for her family, which has been fraught with tragedy. She copes by being the carefree, risk-taking baby of the family, as well as an up-and-coming curator at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. But when hardened cop Nick Casella goes undercover at the museum, he sees the real Elizabeita and he's shockingly attracted to this beautiful too-young-for-him woman. Elizabeita returns his feelings and goes after him with all she has. With secret and lies as the basis of a relationship, does this one have any chance of surviving?

Continue reading for some exciting excerpts from related stories:

PRIMARY COLORS, Nia's story

CLOSE TO YOU, Caterina's story.

PROMISES TO KEEP Luke's story. He's the older brother of all these females!

#  PRIMARY COLORS Excerpt

"And the winner of the first grade prize for Excellence in Art is Salvador Pettrone."

Simultaneously, Ben and Tommy jumped up, fists in the air. "Yes!"

Sal sat demurely in his little first grade chair and blushed.

From the gathering of parents and guests off to the side, Nia watched her son, wishing he was outgoing like his cousins but loving him to pieces anyway.

"Sal." The deep male voice of the man at the microphone was filled with excitement. "Come up and get your prize."

Rafael Castle gave a megawatt smile, making Paulina take in a breath. From beside her, Adam Armstrong leaned in. "Watch it, girl. You're taken."

Paulina laughed. "Yeah, but not dead."

She'd been so happy all summer, now that her relationship with Adam was blossoming. They'd met when their company, Pettrone and Ludzecky Builders, had gotten the bid on a music hall that he'd designed. Surprisingly, Nia had taken a liking to the man despite the fact that he lived in a different world from the family. It seemed that every time she saw him and Paulina together, they were closer. And he'd treated Sal just like Paulina's boys—kind and gentle, always calm.

Making his way to the front, Sal stood before Rafe Castle, looking up and now smiling broadly. Nia had heard a lot about the man, who'd come to Benjamin Franklin Elementary School as an artist in residence for two weeks. She'd voted at the PTA meeting for him to be chosen because his artwork seemed so alive. Sal talked about him often...

Mom, he said I got talent.

Mom, he used my picture as an example.

Mom, he loves my work.

She'd been so grateful to the artist for helping bring her son out of his shell, for making him feel good about himself, even before she'd gotten an email from him: Dear Mrs. Pettrone, Your son Sal is one of the most talented artists of a young age I've ever seen. After the Art Fair, can we talk?

Responding in the affirmative, Nia was thrilled, and anxious to hear what he had to say.

The grades were separated in the large gym, and Sal watched as the other winners were awarded their prizes. And he cheered heartily for them. He's such a nice kid, she thought for the hundredth time. Peter would have been so proud. Though her husband had been a jock, he'd have celebrated his son's success in art, where Sal had inexplicably shown both interest and talent. It had been one of the many things she'd loved about Peter. Sometimes, at events like this, the hole in her heart became a gaping chasm and she struggled against the emotion.

When the formal part of the presentation was over, Rafe said, "Now mingle, everybody. See what stellar work your classmates have done." Displays of student art lined the walls. "And parents, please browse, too. Congratulations to them all."

The groups disbanded, and three little dark-haired, dark-eyed boys ran to where the Ludzecky family had gathered.

Sal threw himself into Nia's arms. "Mommy, I won!"

"I know, sweetheart. Congratulations."

Sneaking around his mother, Ben went up to Adam and gave him a high-five. "We didn't win. Mom told us last night we have other talents."

"But we're glad Sal won," Tommy put in. "I like his drawings."

Adam ruffled Sal's hair. "We're happy for you, kid."

Nia glanced up to see Rafe Castle approaching them. Before he greeted any of them, he knelt down so he was eye-level with Sal. How thoughtful. "You did good, Salvador. Just like your namesake."

"What's a namesake?" Ben asked.

Sal announced proudly, "Who you're named after."

"Our Uncle Salvador?"

A male chuckle from the artist. "Nope. I told him I bet he has roots going back to Salvador Dali, the famous twentieth-century artist."

"Like you, Rafe." Nia noticed Sal used his first name. "You said maybe you got roots to...who was it?"

"A painter from the Renaissance time period. Raphael Sanzio da Urbino."

"Yeah, that's him."

Standing, Rafe turned his gaze to Nia. "Mrs. Pettrone?"

Nia cleared her throat. Though she'd seen pictures of him online since the school chose him for this position, his physical presence was daunting. Those navy eyes focused on her, increasing their effect. "Yes, I'm Sal's mother."

"You're son's very talented."

"So you said."

"Rafe?"

Castle's brows rose. "Adam? Hello."

"You know my teacher, Adam?" Sal asked.

"We've met. And I saw his show at the Mitchell Gallery. I bought The Dragon Within. His work is amazing. So individualistic."

"What does that mean?" Ben wanted to know.

"That everybody gets something different out of it," Adam explained.

Her sister held out her hand. "I'm Paulina Pettrone."

When he got a look at Paulina, Rafe startled. "Wow, two of you? How do the men in the world stand it when you're together?"

"Excuse me?" This from Nia.

"You must bowl them over."

Paulina rolled her eyes. "It was a compliment, Nia. Say thanks." She focused on the boys. "Let's go see everybody's art before we have to leave. Nia, take your time in getting back to work. No rush."

"Could Sal go with you?" Rafe asked. "I'd like to speak to Mrs. Pettrone in private."

Nia stepped back.

"It's all positive stuff."

The four of them left, and Nia folded her arms across her chest, watching Rafe Castle. His dark hair was long and curly, and he carried himself in the confident, masculine way that men who looked like him seemed to have. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Salvador."

"I appreciated your letter."

"I meant every word, and more. Did you notice how his paintings and drawings evolved the last two weeks?"

"Yes, I did. Some got more realistic. Some more abstract. I liked the latter best."

His eyes glistened like sapphires, as if she's said the right thing. "I have a proposal for you. I'd like to continue working with Sal. Free of charge."

"Why on earth would you do that? Adam said you were hot."

He winked at her. "I am."

"Oh, I meant your reputation. But back to Sal."

"He's a prodigy. And that kind of talent needs to be cultivated."

Feeling guilt take root inside her, she sighed. "I've thought about getting him art lessons, but we're so busy..."

"I'll come to your house. And yes, I'd expect an adult to supervise us, so you'd have to arrange that."

"We live with my mother and sister. It wouldn't be too hard to get coverage." She raised her chin. "But I insist I pay."

"Then I retract the offer."

"What?"

"I won't take your money."

"Mr. Castle, I might be a widow, but we have enough funds to live on."

His gaze darkened. "I'm sorry, I didn't know Sal's father died. He's only talked about you, but...please, accept my condolences."

Nia could feel her face redden. "No, let me apologize. I jumped the gun. The boys told us some things they overheard people saying about them not having a dad, and I'm too sensitive."

"I don't think you can be too sensitive about your kids." He cocked his head. "So, the lessons?"

"I'll think about it."

His brows rose, indicating surprise at her statement. "All right." He took out a card and handed it to her. "Let me know."

"One thing, Mr. Castle. Thanks for not asking in front of Sal."

"Of course not. We're buddies. He'll want to do this. But it's your decision. I respect that."

"Do you have kids?"

"No, never married. So none yet." A big male grin. "Someday, though."

As he walked away, Nia stared at his long male stride. And okay, his butt, encased in soft denim, and his broad shoulders in a chamois shirt. But that wasn't the matter at hand. Now, once again, she'd have to make the right choice for her child alone. She wished Peter was here to help with that and a million other things. Which was enough to worry about. But more pressing was the issue that Nia had not gotten beyond her grief enough to move on like Paulina had and that was as big an issue of the solo responsibility she now had.

# CLOSE TO YOU Excerpt

Secret Service Agent C.J. (Caterina) Ludzecky and her three colleagues hustled into New York City's Memorial Hospital on the heels of the Second Lady and the vice president of the United States. Though she kept her emotions at bay when she was on the job, C.J. couldn't help but empathize with Bailey O'Neil, the vice president's wife of two years. She remembered well the night her own father had died in an institution far too similar to this one. She'd been fifteen, and she and her brother, Lukasz, had taken it the hardest, probably because they were the oldest of his eight children. Briefly, C.J. wondered how Bailey's brothers were faring. Embedded in her memory was the image of holding a weeping Luke in her arms. His vulnerability had crushed her. She considered saying a prayer for this family, but dismissed the notion; she didn't believe in that anymore.

The group of six reached the admittance desk and were met by a man dressed in an impeccable suit. "Mr. Vice President. Ms. O'Neil. I'm sorry to meet you under these circumstances. I'm James Jones. I manage New York Memorial."

Bailey and Clay shook hands with the administrator. "Thank you for coming in at this hour," the vice president said.

C.J. watched Clay slide his arm around his wife's shoulders; Bailey leaned into him. They had to be the most demonstrative political couple she'd ever encountered in the six years she'd been with the Secret Service. Their open affection for each other was often a topic of discussion among the who's who in Washington—much of it not always kind. Since Bailey was four months pregnant, Clay was even more attentive than usual.

As they spoke with the doctor, C.J. scanned the forty-by-forty hospital reception area. The other three agents did the same, though her partner, Mitch Calloway, who headed the Second Lady's detail, and Tim Jenkins, the special agent in charge of the vice presidential force, moved in close to the protectees.

"I'll show you the way." The hospital administrator glanced at the agents, then back to the Second Couple. "All of you, I guess."

Calloway looked over at C.J. About forty, he had shrewd brown eyes and dark hair accented by a touch of gray at the temples. Nodding to the other side of the room, he signaled her to take note. A striking redheaded woman was arguing with a...uh-oh...a man with a camera. Damn it, how had the media gotten wind of the vice president's midnight trek on Marine Two, the VP helicopter, from Washington to New York? And how did they get past the uniformed guards at the entrance to the hospital? True, the service hadn't had time to do any advance work because this was an emergency. But, still...

Irked, C.J. strode across the area. When she reached the pair, their disagreement was in full swing.

The female stood tall on her three-inch heels. Apparently she was digging them in. "I said no, Ross. We're not intruding on them. We're leaving right now."

"Yes," C.J. said, drawing herself up to her full five-eight height. "You are."

The cameraman, a wiry wrestler-type, peered over half glasses at her. "Yeah? Who says?"

Brushing back the tailored jacket of her black suit, C.J. exposed her semiautomatic then flashed her badge. They could guess who she was by her suit and the American flag pin on her lapel, along with her earpiece, but a little show of force never hurt. "The United States Secret Service. No media here, hotshot." She shook her head and let her usually even temper spike. "Can't you people be humane for once? This is a family emergency."

"First Amendment gives us—"

The woman stepped forward, sending a fall of auburn hair into her eyes and perfume wafting toward C.J. "I'm Rachel Scott. Our TV station, WNYC, got a tip that Vice President Wainwright and his wife had arrived in town and were headed to Memorial. But we won't intrude. Obviously a family member is more ill than we anticipated. We'll be leaving."

"Thank you. I'll follow you out." C.J.'s comment was neutral, as she'd been trained in responding to questions.

Don't confirm or deny the press's comments. Usually they're on a fishing expedition. If you agree with them, they'll phrase it like you said the words. Her first boss, David Anderson, had given her good advice on all aspects of being an agent. He'd been her mentor, until he turned on her, which still made her furious, except that it led to her working with Mitch in the D.C. field office. When Mitch had gotten into the coveted VPPD, the Vice Presidential Protective Division, he'd often called on her to substitute for agents or when extra protection was needed. After a year, one of the Second Lady's personal agents cycled out in the customary rotation of agents, and Bailey had asked for C.J. to join their detail permanently. That was how she'd come to such a plum position with not even a decade in the service under her belt.

Because she saw to it that the press exited through the front door without taking any detours, and turned them over to the uniformed agents standing post outside, C.J. had to find her own way to the CCU. As she traversed the corridors, she said into her wrist unit, part of the service's restrictive radio network, "Reporters are history. I'm on my way back."

"Understood," Mitch said. "We're at the CCU with Bulldog and Bright Star."

Code names were given to protectees, usually indicative of their personalities. Clay Wainwright was known for fighting relentlessly for the rights of others, and Bailey was a standout on the Hill because she didn't play politics.

The smell of hospital assaulted C.J. as she made the trip upstairs. Antiseptic, ripe food and something best left unidentified abused her senses. She remembered the odors. She associated them with death. For Bailey's sake, C.J. hoped her own visceral reaction was wrong this time.

Her three colleagues, Clay and Bailey were in the corridor outside of CCU talking to a doctor whose tag read, Edward Crane, Chief of Cardiology. The vice president of the most powerful country in the world commanded top people's attention. C.J. came up next to Mitch, who threw her a quick nod.

"Mr. O'Neil is resting now. We've given him a sedative." The doctor's voice was soothing.

"We've run some tests to assess his condition and make a determination on how to proceed. I've called in our best cardiac surgeon and his team." Glancing at his watch, he added, "I expect them any minute."

Again, Bailey leaned into Clay. "What's the prognosis?"

C.J. had to smile, despite the circumstances. Though she'd only been the Second Lady's permanent shadow for a few months, she'd followed the news accounts of the woman's whirlwind career as the wife of the vice president. It was public knowledge that Bailey and Clay had a history; first, as a young district attorney, he'd put her in jail for harboring a criminal. After that, for almost a decade, they'd disagreed on the best way to stop youth gangs, and had battled out their different views in the newspapers. But two years ago, when they were assigned to the same task force by the governor of New York, they'd fallen hard for each other, and thumbed their noses at the political world. From what C.J. understood, they'd fought like hell to be together. In any case, Bailey O'Neil was a perfect role model for teenage girls and women alike. C.J. truly valued her assignment protecting the Second Lady, even though there had been some nasty gossip about how she'd gotten the position.

The doctor continued analyzing the patient's condition. "It appears Mr. O'Neil had a major heart attack. Your brother tells us he had the classic symptoms—-chest pain, shortness of breath, discomfort in his arm. Mr. O'Neil, the son, called 911 and administered aspirin, which helped."

"Will Pa be all right?" Bailey asked, her voice shaky.

"We won't know that for a while. We've already done some tests to determine the amount of blockage. They wore him out, and made him anxious, which is why he's sedated. The cardiologist and his team will determine the extent of the heart trauma and a course of action when they get here."

"What might that include?"

The doctor glanced to Clay when he asked the question. "It depends on the amount of blockage. It could mean angioplasty, or some form of surgery. But we're getting ahead of ourselves. I hate to commit, Vice President Wainwright, until the surgeon can give us his opinion."

A woman who'd hovered behind them—she wore a hospital badge that read Janice Denny—cleared her throat. "I'll show you to the private waiting room. The rest of your family is there, Ms. O'Neil."

Bailey frowned. "Can I see Pa first?"

"Yes, of course." The doctor's smile was sympathetic. "One person at a time is allowed into the room. He's alone now, as your mother took a break. Try not to wake him up."

"Hold on." Mitch spoke with the air of a man used to being obeyed. "An agent will have to accompany Ms. O'Neil."

"Into the CCU?" the doctor asked.

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

"Isn't that a bit excessive?"

"We didn't have time to do thorough advance checks on your personnel or the hospital rooms themselves. If the press downstairs knows we're here, others could, too."

Tim Jenkins stepped forward. His kind eyes and boyish charm were deceptive. He said with the authority of an SAIL, special agent in charge, "One of your team should go to the waiting room and check the area out while Ms. O'Neil is in with her father. We'll stay here with the vice president until you let us know all's clear."

"I want C.J. to come with me," Bailey told them.

The Second Lady accepted the protection of the Secret Service willingly. Only the vice president was required by law to have it. On occasion Bailey let it slip in conversation that it was hard for her to have the agents around all the time. But she knew they were needed to protect her and her children, especially because she was so high profile, due to her gang work in New York. And she did her best not to take her annoyance out on the agents. Mitch had told C.J. horror stories about presidents like L.B.J. mistreating his protectives, and even some vice presidential wives trying to dodge the service's watch over them.

C.J. stepped forward, her face blank. "Whatever you want, Ms. O'Neil." Agents always addressed the protectees formally.

The doctor opened the door to the private CCU room, a privilege given to them because of the patient's relationship to the vice president. When the doctor moved back, Bailey and C.J. stepped inside.

A man hovered by the bed—one of her Bailey's four older brothers. This one, Aidan, had the O'Neil looks: tall, lanky but muscular with crystal clear blue eyes and black hair, his a little long. When he saw his sister, he rushed to her and grabbed her in a bear hug hard enough to crack her ribs. "I'm so glad you're here," he said, his voice breaking on the last word.

"Me, too."

"Come on over." He led her back to the bed.

A nurse sat in a chair in the corner. C.J. followed Bailey and stopped a discreet distance away, while Bailey sat down at her father's side. Machines at the head of the bed beeped and whooshed; the soft sounds of muted phones and footsteps filtered in from the corridor. Aidan settled a big masculine hand on her shoulders and C.J. avoided looking at his face.

"Hi, Pa," Bailey whispered, lightly touching Patrick O'Neil's limp hand. There were tears in her eyes. "It's me, your girl. I'm here in New York, and I'm going to stay until you get better." Some sniffling. "I love you so much. Please, come out of this. Get better. I'm not ready for you to leave us yet." She placed a hand on her stomach. "Clay and I are having another boy. We're going to name him after you." She kissed her father's head. "Please, Pa."

Before she lost control, even a modicum of it, C.J. averted her gaze. She was used to quelling her personal feelings, though she'd known this trip to New York would test that skill. Ever since she'd joined the Secret Service, straining her relationship with her family and being subjected to unfair rumors among the agents, she'd hardened her heart. Getting weepy and sentimental about the situation had no place in her life now.

#  PROMISES TO KEEP Excerpt

The National Threat Assessment Center, or NTAC, was located right around the corner from Ford's Theatre in D.C. Joe Stonehouse passed the famous landmark, remembering when he'd taken Josie there. Because the memory pricked, he shoved it away. He reached the Secret Service building and headed inside. Though it was Sunday night, they had business to take care of.

The route to the conference room was familiar, and the smell of lemon wax, cleaning fluid, and leather accompanied him. He'd worked at NTAC, a division of the Secret Service that analyzed potential assassins in order to preclude their attacks, for five years before Josie's death. Afterward, he became part of the Safe School Initiative, which addressed school shooters. Then, at his instigation, and with him at the helm, the School Threat Assessment Team, or STAT, was formed. They collected information about past school shootings and the shooters themselves for the purpose of preventing targeted school violence; they also monitored developing situations in high schools across the country. Then, too, since the World Trade Center attacks, school kids were even more messed up and needed help from adults.

And, in the event of a serious potential risk, they went undercover in the buildings. Which was why he was here tonight. He pushed open the conference room door.

"You're late," a voice from the other side of the room said.

The remark came from his sulking colleague, who still looked like one of America's Most Wanted in his torn jeans, flannel shirt, and unkempt hair. Joe refrained from snarling. Once again, he cursed his luck that Ludzecky was the only agent available to go into Fairholm High School with him on such short notice.

"Traffic on Dupont Circle," Joe said tightly. Shrugging out of the jacket of his pinstripe suit, he sat down on a table and picked up the remote to view a Power Point presentation the government had prepared for them over the weekend. "All right, Suzie Q, let's see what makes you tick."

"How come we didn't have all this information before we went up to New York on Friday?" Ludzecky wanted to know.

"We had to move in fast, given what we found last week." Joe clicked on the appropriate icon to get into the program. "The data wasn't ready."

They'd been collecting information on Fairholm High School for months as part of STAT's program to keep tabs on high-risk situations in the nation's secondary schools. But two recent developments had propelled them to target Fairholm for immediate intervention.

Mrs. Suzanna Quinn's picture appeared on the big screen. He studied the blond hair, pulled back in a knot like she'd worn it two days ago, revealing gold hoops at her ears. Her light brown eyes were smiling. "This is Suzanna Quinn's professional photo." He noted she wore the same kind of suit she had on when they'd met. Tailored. Professional.

"Buttoned up like a four-star general," Ludzecky commented.

"At least she sets a good example for her troops."

He clicked on background information; the screen split, and statistics came up next to her picture.

"She doesn't look forty-three."

Joe thought she did. A good forty-three, though. Smooth skin. Only a few laugh lines around her eyes. Sculpted chin.

Married. Widowed. She'd been climbing the academic ladder, on her way to a college administration position, when her husband had died from a heart attack. She'd shied away from working at the local college where he'd taught the ethics of law. Instead, when she'd finished her doctorate in education, she called on her initial experience as a high school social studies teacher, then school counselor, and finally assistant principal; she'd applied for and received the principalship at Fairholm High five years ago. She had one son, Josh, a senior at the school. He scanned the rest of the general information. "This isn't what I need to know about her."

Ludzecky sighed dramatically. The kid should be on stage. "I don't understand why we didn't just tell her we were comin' in undercover. She's the principal, for Christ's sake."

That got Joe's back up. Superintendent Maloney had had doubts about Quinn accepting the undercover work without a fuss, and after Joe had read her files, he'd made the decision to keep her in the dark. Maloney hadn't been comfortable with that, and Joe himself had had second thoughts about it. But his instinct had told him to wait, and on more than one occasion, those instincts had saved his life.

"You read her mission statement for the school and her own personal essay on management style; she'd balk at covert actions. She's preached democracy and openness and flexibility with evangelistic zeal." He glanced at the screen. "What I want to know is why."

"Afraid she'll interfere with your commando tactics?"

"No, I was afraid her objections would make it harder for us to get into the school. You know time is of the essence, after the latest developments. I decided to go under covertly; when everything's set up, I'll let her in on the plan. By then, it'll be too late for her to do too much damage."

Ludzecky scowled. "Don't you get tired of playin' God all the time?"

Joe ignored the sarcasm which came in a steady stream from the young agent's mouth. He continued to flick through the files. Pictures came up of her son—he resembled his mother, with blonder hair but those same eyes. Her husband was next. Joe clicked on an icon labeled Lawrence Quinn. Fifteen years her senior. Second marriage. First wife deceased. Professor at NYU in legal ethics. Ah, maybe this was the source of her rabid belief in honesty at all costs. They moved to Fairholm when their son was born; her husband taught at a local college, and she took a teaching job at the high school. Assessment by team: good marriage, low-key, no known separations, seemed to love their kid.

"Geez, look at that," Ludzecky said.

"What?"

"The guy died on their fifteenth wedding anniversary."

"Yeah?"

The younger man snorted. "Not surprised you didn't notice," he grumbled.

Joe knew Luke's, and others', attitude toward him. They called him Iron Man, Stone Man, the Ice King. Not that he cared. His restrained personality was a hell of a lot better than mimicking his parents. Besides, he hadn't always been like this.

Joe nodded to the section on Quinn's husband. "It could be just her husband's views that's got her so jagged on honesty. Your typical liberal couple." He tried to hide the disdain in his voice, caused by the memory of the liberal couple who raised him. Clicking the remote, he brought up the section labeled parents.

Her family grew up right here in D.C. Mother, Joanna Carson. Schoolteacher. Raised four children on her own after father died in 1960—two months before Suzanna was born. Father's career path...bingo!

Even Ludzecky leaned forward and read with interest. "Holy shit."

"Nathan Carson was brought down by good old Senator McCarthy," Joe said, finding the last piece of the puzzle.

They read the report together. Nathan W. Carson was a captain in the army when McCarthy's Communist-seeking bullets had hit him. He'd been one of the several U.S. Army officers brutally questioned in the infamous thirty-six hours of televised hearings.

"I wonder if the superintendent knew about Carson and that's why he thought she'd balk," Joe commented, almost to himself. "Those investigations included undercover work, phone tapping, infiltrations."

"Not to mention that he was found innocent." Ludzecky's tone was grave.

"There was almost no proof against anybody McCarthy accused. Didn't matter, though, the damage had been done."

"Click again, see what happened to Carson." Ludzecky straightened and peered intently at the screen.

Joe brought up the next slide. "Damn."

Luke sighed again, this time sympathetically. He had yet to develop a hard veneer, which was one of the things that got him in so much trouble. That and his lack of plain common sense.

Suzanna Quinn's father had committed suicide two months before she was born. He'd "involuntarily resigned" from the army and never bounced back.

"Well, I'm sure she can be managed effectively," Joe commented.

"Goddamn it, Stonehouse, don't you feel any sympathy for the poor woman?"

Sick of the kid's needling, he snapped back. "Sympathy gets in the way, Agent Ludzecky. It's what keeps getting you in all that hot water." He fiddled with the computer. "Let's look at the other school personnel."

# About The Author

A NEW YORK TIMES bestselling author, Kathryn Shay has been a lifelong writer and teacher. She has written dozens of self-published original romance titles, print books with the Berkley Publishing Group and Harlequin Enterprises and mainstream women's fiction with Bold Strokes Books. She has won five RT Book Reviews awards, four Golden Quills, four Holt Medallions, the Bookseller's Best Award, Foreword Magazine's Book of the Year and several "Starred Reviews." Her novels have been serialized in COSMOPOLITAN magazine and featured in USA TODAY, THE WALL STREET JOURNAL and PEOPLE magazine. There are over five million copies of her books in print, along with hundreds of thousands downloaded online. Reviewers have call her work "emotional and heart-wrenching."

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