Catie nodded. “Partially. So many kids have told me they’d never have been brave enough to use prostheses without the camp.” Jacqueline had sent Catie to a similar international children’s camp when she first began to wear prosthetic legs, and though Catie had already been determined to use them full time, meeting older kids who were already living that life had helped her an incredible amount.

Especially after she was introduced to her mentor, Posey, who, at twenty-three, was already a champion skier.

Catie’s future dreams had suddenly taken concrete form.

The New Zealand version of the camp, which ran for a full month over the summer holidays, was the first thing she’d set up on her own—from contacting the large international camp to get advice on how to start, to touching base with local amputee services to spread the word about the initiative.

Jacqueline had offered to fund it, but it meant so much to Catie to have built the entire operation from the ground up exactly as she envisioned, and she was determined to maintain its independence. She had, however, made it clear to her mother that she’d never forget the gift Jacqueline had given her by sending her to that international camp.

Her mother, tough as steel, had actually looked nonplussed when Catie hugged her in thanks… but then she’d hugged Catie back and said, “I’m glad I got it right that time,” her voice quieter than Catie had ever before heard it.

That same voice had rung with open pride the last time she’d visited the camp. “Look at all this, and you’d never know you began as an eighteen-year-old with five kids in a day program.”

The Dragon might like control, but she also appreciated the fact her children—stepson Harlow included—had spines.

“It’s fucking amazing what you do.” Danny’s smile made his eyes light up, the reason he was the pinup of so many. When Danny Esera smiled with his whole heart, he was absolutely beautiful.

Not that Catie was affected.

At all.

“We need ground rules if we’re going to do this,” she said and picked up her tablet and electronic pen off the coffee table. “First rule: no PDA.”

“Vetoed.” Danny slashed out a hand. “There has to be some PDA if we’re going to sell it, but nothing like tongue kissing. That’s a step into nightmare territory.”

“I am never tongue kissing you, so don’t worry about that.” Skin unexpectedly hot, she considered his rejection of her suggested rule, decided he was right. “Minor PDA only. Hugs permitted. Arms around waists, that kind of thing. Kiss on the cheek is the closest you get to my mouth.”

“Agreed. And same. These luscious lips are off-limits to you.” Danny rubbed his bristled jaw. “Since we’re both pretty private on our socials, too much PDA would look suspicious anyway.”