When Dave suggested she spend the night with him, she didn’t object. She simply wanted to crawl into the first available bed and go to sleep for a very long time. And when she woke up she would go back to her music, just like before. It was the one thing she could count on. She was good at it. She had control. If things didn’t go right, only she was hurt.

“We’ll look again in the morning,” Dave said. “When it’s light.”

Kate nodded, her eyes bright with tears. “In the morning,” she whispered.

He carefully undressed her, buttoned her into a flannel pajama top, and tucked her into his bed. She was hurting, and he couldn’t help her. She was too tired to fight back. The best he could do was to comfort. But come morning, when she had some of her normal resiliency, they were going to have a discussion.

Kate woke up with a hangover. Not enough sleep and too many tears, she thought. She didn’t feel nearly as desperate as she had the night before, but her head was pounding. She propped herself up in bed and squinted at the sunlight splashing through the open window.

“ ’Morning,” Dave said, sliding through the door with a tray. “I’ve brought you breakfast.”

“Breakfast in bed. Some special occasion?”

“It’s in honor of your foot. It’s swollen. Too much activity yesterday.”

Kate looked under the covers and confirmed it. “Damn.”

He set the tray across her lap. Orange juice, waffles, four links of sausage, and coffee. “I talked to Howie this morning. They’re holding your kidnapper without bail, and the fire’s definitely out in the house across the street.” He nibbled on a sausage. “They’re boarding it up until the owner has a chance to start restoration…”

“And no one’s seen my kitten.”

Dave sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Kate looked at her breakfast. “This was really sweet of you, but I don’t think I can eat anything.”

“You have to have a little faith, Kate. We’ll find the kitten.”

How could she tell him? It wasn’t just the kitten. He was probably right, and the kitten would come out of hiding when it got hungry. Her real problem was Dave. She loved him. More than music. More than she’d ever thought possible. He was always there for her. He made her feel fragile and strong and desirable—all at the same time. He knew when to cuddle, when to stroke, when to tease. And he made her feel needed. He made her feel like a necessary part of his life. He would never be someone she simply passed in the kitchen en route to work. Their mating went far beyond the physical. It was emotional and intellectual, as natural as breathing. And just as essential.