The path grew steeper as it climbed toward the rocky bluff that jutted over the water. Molly said she and Kevin came here sometimes to dive. Annabelle paused as she rounded the bend to catch her breath. That was when she saw Heath. He stood on the rocky ledge gazing out at the lake, his jacket pushed back, his fingertips stuffed in his back pockets. Even unkempt and disheveled, he was magnificent, an alpha male at the top of every game he played, except the most important one.

He heard her footsteps and turned his head. Slowly, his hands dropped to his sides. In the distance, she saw a tiny speck in the sky. The balloons drifting away. It didn’t seem like a comforting omen. “I need to ask you two questions,” she said.

His stance, his shuttered expression, everything about him reminded her of the way the cottages had been closed up for the winter—no hot water, curtains drawn, doors locked. “All right,” he said tonelessly.

Her heart hammered as she stepped around the NO DIVING sign. “First question. Where’s your cell?”

“My cell? Why do you care?”

She wasn’t sure. What difference could it make which pocket he’d stashed it in? Still, Bodie had insisted she ask.

“Last time I saw it,” Heath said, “Pip had it.”

“You let her steal another phone?”

“No, I gave it to her.”

She swallowed and stared at him. This was getting serious. “You gave her your cell? Why?”

“Is this the second question?”

“No. Scratch that. The second question is…Why haven’t you returned Dean’s calls?”

“I returned one of them, but he didn’t know where you were.”

“So why did he call you in the first place?”

“What is this, Annabelle? Frankly, I’m getting tired of everybody acting like the world revolves around Dean Robillard. Just because he’s developed this sudden need for an agent doesn’t mean I have to jump to attention. I’ll get to him when I get to him, and if that’s not good enough, he has IMG’s phone number.”

Her legs gave out from under her, and she sank down on the nearest rock. “Oh, my God. You really do love me.”

“I already told you that,” he retorted.

“You did, didn’t you?” She couldn’t get her breath back.

Finally, he grew aware that something had changed. “Annabelle?”

She tried to answer, really she did, but he’d once again turned her world upside down, and her tongue wouldn’t cooperate.

Hope battled against the wariness in his eyes. His lips barely moved. “You believe me?”

“Uh-huh.” Her hammering heart created a ripple effect, and she had to clasp her hands to keep them from shaking.

“You do?”

She nodded.

“You’re going to marry me?”

She nodded again, and that was all he needed. With a low moan, he pulled her to her feet and kissed her. Seconds…hours…she had no idea how long the kiss lasted, but he covered a lot of territory: lips, tongue, and teeth; her cheeks and eyelids; her neck. His hands reached under her sweater for her breasts; she fumbled beneath his jacket to touch his bare chest.