BOOK 7

Of everything Sandra had taken from him, he hated her most for stealing his ability to trust. He’d thought himself incapable of caring about anyone ever again. He certainly never thought he’d feel the slightest glimmer of . . . He stopped himself, not wanting to name the deep churning inside his chest.

Rachel had been right when she’d said kissing her wouldn’t be simple. It was damn complicated. For the first time since Sandra, he wanted more than a few hours of gratuitous sex. He wanted the impossible - he wanted to know Rachel every way possible, which meant allowing her to become a part of his life.

Expelling a breath, he pressed his fingers to his closed eyelids. He’d wanted to throttle Rachel’s mother for interrupting them. On hindsight, he knew her arrival had been a blessing.

Rachel might not have called a halt to their kiss, and he’d been so driven he wouldn’t have stopped until he’d made love to her. And that was a dilemma he didn’t need.

Pushing thoughts of Rachel aside, he