“I’ve had my share of aimless nights,” he murmured. “You come to a point where you realize you don’t want too many more.” That was just it, he realized. It wasn’t the work, the hours spent closeted with law books or in a courtroom. It was the nights without meaning that left him wanting more. He lifted the wine to top off her glass, but his eyes stayed on hers. “I came to that realization very recently.”

Her blood began to stir. Deliberately, Liz pushed her wine aside and rose to go to the stove. “We all make decisions at certain points in our lives, realign our priorities.”

“I have the feeling you did that a long time ago.”

“I did. I’ve never regretted it.”

That much was true, he thought. She wasn’t a woman for regrets. “You wouldn’t change it, would you?”

Liz continued to spoon chili into bowls. “Change what?”

“If you could go back eleven years and take a different path, you wouldn’t do it.”

She stopped. From across the room he could see the flicker of candlelight in her eyes as she turned to him. More, he could see the strength that softness and shadows couldn’t disguise. “That would mean I’d have to give up Faith. No, I wouldn’t do it.”

When she set the bowls on the table, Jonas took her hand. “I admire you.”

Flustered, she stared down at him. “What for?”

“For being exactly what you are.”

CHAPTER 8

No smooth phrases, no romantic words could have affected her more deeply. She wasn’t used to flattery, but flattery, Liz was sure, could be brushed easily aside by a woman who understood herself. Sincere and simple approval was a different matter. Perhaps it was the candlelight, the wine, the intimacy of the small kitchen in the empty house, but she felt close to him, comfortable with him. Without being aware of it happening, Liz dropped her guard.

“I couldn’t be anything else.”

“Yes, you could. I’m glad you’re not.”

“What are you?” she wondered as she sat beside him.

“A thirty-five-year-old lawyer who’s just realizing he’s wasted some time.” He lifted his glass and touched it to hers. “To making the best of whatever there is.”

Though she wasn’t certain she understood him, Liz drank, then waited for him to eat.

“You could fuel an engine with this stuff.” Jonas dipped his spoon into the chili again and tasted. Hot spice danced on his tongue. “It’s great.”

“Not too hot for your Yankee stomach?”

“My Yankee stomach can handle it. You know, I’m surprised you haven’t opened a restaurant, since you can cook like this.”

She wouldn’t have been human if the compliment hadn’t pleased her. “I like the water more than I like the kitchen.”