“Yes. He didn’t want a family. He blamed her for getting pregnant.” It was easy to talk in the sheltered, leafy cocoon of his garden. The warm evening air was sweetened by the scent of honeysuckle and jasmine, and distant city noises blended with the call of birds and the hum of insects.

“You’ve never thought of trying to trace him?”

“No.” The last thing she needed was to meet someone else who wasn’t interested in her, but she didn’t share that.

He took her wineglass and set it down next to his on the table.

“I’m sorry you lost your home.”

“I’m not. It’s not as if it was the dream. I mean, for a while it was—I couldn’t wait to have my own place.” She’d never told anyone this before. Dreams were perhaps the most intimate thing you could share with a person, fragile and easily damaged. “When I was living with my aunt I used to literally dream about it. I felt so lonely, I cheered myself up by imagining a home that was all mine. And it didn’t have to be huge or fancy. I was just excited about having my own place. Filling it with books. Deciding what to put on the walls.”

“And?”

She stared into the darkness. “It never felt the way I imagined it would feel. Having my own place didn’t feel fun or freeing, it felt lonely. I’ve been as lonely in that apartment as I was with my aunt. You probably think that’s pathetic.”

“No. I love your honesty. I love that you don’t feel you have to put on a show for me. You’re a special person, have I told you that lately?” His head was close to hers, his smile so compelling she couldn’t help but smile back.

She could have resisted the broad shoulders and the sexy eyes. She might have been able to ignore his sharp mind and the way he listened and paid attention to small details. But his smile? His smile was lethal, and that was her downfall.

Their heads moved closer together, although she wasn’t sure if she was the one moving or him.

“You’re special, too.” That mouth, she thought. Smiling or serious, he had the most expressive mouth.

He leaned closer. Any closer and they would have been touching. “Do you feel lonely now?”

“No. Not lonely.” A little confused. A lot desperate. But definitely not lonely.

“Taking this slowly is killing me, by the way.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “I’m trying to assess the chances of Molly wandering in if you sleep in my room.”

“Too risky. Not a good idea.”