The fragrance of roses was almost overpowering; a huge bouquet dripped loose petals atop a gleaming parquet table next to the ottoman. Velvety crimson petals lay like drops of blood against the wood. Ginny suppressed a shudder and glanced up, her eyes briefly meeting his hard blue gaze.

Even while she struggled for words to break the sudden awkward tension between them, she resented the necessity for it. Why must he regard her so closely, his eyes shuttered, his face unreadable as if—As if she had chosen to stay away from the children? After all, she had been on her way to them when she’d left New Orleans and then had been injured before she could reach them. It wasn’t as if she had wanted to be taken so far away from them. And Steve knew that.

But he had still taken them from France to England and hidden them in the countryside with his old flame, so Ginny could not see them without his permission. If not for this attempt at reconciliation, she would no doubt never get to see her children again.

In truth, that was not the only reason she wanted to be with Steve, to try again. She needed to renew the love they had once felt so strongly for one another, and that fact was both frightening and promising.

Could they renew the love they had once shared after everything that had come between them? There was hope….

Yet now he regarded her so intently, his dark face set into harsh lines, black brows a straight slash over eyes that held volumes of unspoken censure.

He had often told her how much he admired her ability to always survive. Yet there were times it seemed as though he resented that ability. Her throat tightened. The tension was so palpable it throbbed like a live beast.

Across the room Steve sprawled in a wingback chair, his long legs stuck out in front of him and crossed negligently at the ankles. He looked far too comfortable when she was so ill at ease. Oh God, she was so nervous! Why? Why could she not be as unaffected as he obviously was? But she couldn’t be, of course, for this was too important.

This first meeting, with children she had not seen since they were infants, terrified her. Laura and Franco—her own children—twins born when she and Steve had been separated by distance and conflicts. The children had been left in Mexico, then sent to stay with Tante Celine in France for far too long. It was unintentional, of course, for Ginny had never dreamed of all the events that would take her so far away from them….