Chapters (40)
- Cover
- Praise for the novels of New York Times bestselling author Karen Rose
- Titles by Karen Rose
- Dedication
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Epilogue
- Dear Readers
- Excerpt from CLOSER THAN YOU THINK
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- What’s next onyour reading list?
He what? If she changed her mind, what would he do? Her nightmare abruptly changed, Adrian’s broken body on the rocks becoming Diesel’s. Her gaze jerked up to meet his, and she suspected that the instant fear that had filled her was now apparent on her face, because he rushed to soothe.
“No, Dani, not that. If you change your mind, I’ll survive. I won’t take my life.” His eyes filled with pain and then tears. “Is that what you’re afraid of? That if you hurt me, if you make me angry, I’ll kill myself?”
She did. She hadn’t even realized it until that moment. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Well, I won’t,” he said fiercely. “I won’t ever even threaten it. I promise you that. But it will hurt me.”
Relief made her hand shake as she lifted it to trace her fingertips over his lips, so soft and warm. “I don’t want to hurt you. Ever.”
He caught her wrist in his big hand, holding it like it was fine china as he kissed her fingers. “Then don’t,” he said simply. Sweetly. “Just be with me. That’s all I want.”
“You should want more,” she whispered. “You deserve more.”
He shook his head. “I want you. I deserve you.”
She opened her mouth to challenge him, then remembered Stone’s words. Take a page out of Delores’s book and let him make his own choices. She’d do that. But first he needed all the information. “I come with baggage, Diesel.”
“We all do.”
“My baggage is . . . extra. You said you needed me to be sure. I need the same thing. I need you to know what you’re giving up.”
Once again, he seemed to brace himself, but this time it seemed like it was for an argument rather than a physical blow. “Okay. Shoot.”
“You love children. I . . .” She lifted her chin. “I don’t plan to have any babies.”
He shrugged. “There are too many kids who need homes. Who need families to love them. Kids like Michael and Joshua. A child doesn’t need my DNA for me to love him. Or her.” He hesitated. “Although I’d like to know why. Is it your status? Or the syndrome? Or your career? Any are reasonable, but I’d like to understand.”
It was a fair question. “All of the above? I mean, I know that women who are positive can safely carry and birth an HIV-negative baby, but there are risks.”
“And if one of your positive patients wanted to have a baby?”