“Like his father, it seems.” Missie glanced at the far end of the room where the men stood, and there was something in her eyes that reminded Ginny that once she had been in love with Steve, just a little. It had not been mentioned, but on occasion, a casual comment had reminded her that the girl had loved him once. Another ghost from Steve’s past; they were as numerous as her own, she thought.

“Yes, I have thought the same thing myself. Tell me about your Alejandro. Does he have your red hair?”

Laughing, Missie nodded, and for a time they discussed their children as easily as if they had been old friends. Perhaps they were in a way. Missie Carter had accepted Ginny without reservation, if not without a bit of shock. After all, to the innocent Melissa, Ginny had been a cosmopolitan creature far removed from her experience and world. She had been half fascinated, half afraid of the elegant young woman who seemed supremely confident.

It had been a revelation to Missie to discover that beneath the facade she showed the world, Ginny Brandon was as uncertain at times as she was, and as unhappy. It was Manolo—Steve—who had made her that unhappy, of course, as once he had even made her.

But that had been so long ago. She’d met Renaldo, and realized that the kind of man like Steve Morgan would destroy her woman’s soul if she fell in love with him. Oh, but he had been so exciting, so dangerous, and while she did not regret for a moment that he loved Ginny and not her, there was a bit of her that wondered with a delicious shudder what it would be like to be with him.

It had almost happened once, but she had been so naive, expecting tenderness and starlight, not the kind of harsh, ruthless invasion he intended. Perhaps he had known that, had done it only to show her that he was not at all what she wanted. He was right, of course. He’d terrified her.

But she never intended to allow Ginny to know any of that, for it was so long ago, and she’d been just a child playing at love, playing at passion. Renaldo, with his steady, honorable love and fierce desire to protect her, was what she had really wanted all along.

“Do you travel to Mexico City often?” Ginny was asking her, and Missie smiled and shook her head.