After chasing the elusive escape of sleep for several hours, Darci gave up. Scruffy grunted his protest when she finally climbed out of bed. Slipping on her pink satin bathrobe, she padded into the kitchen, opening the curtains on the bay window that looked out over the Rocky Mountains visible from her backyard. She waited for the scene to soothe her as it always did—waited in vain. For the first time, her life was totally out of her control.

She would make her pitch in the morning, lay it all on the line, but after that, her future was in the hands of six men. All six had sat on her stepfather’s board of directors, all six had honored her stepfather’s wishes and let her remain in the presidency. Until now. There had been more and more rumblings of discontent these past few months, no doubt fueled by frequent urgings from Uncle John.

If given the time and the freedom to make needed changes, she was certain she could turn the profit curve around. But the board had constantly stalled her efforts for change. She’d talked to each member over the past two weeks, tried to convince them to side with her, tried to show them that Blackmore’s needed to move into the nineties. But she had no way of knowing whether she was having any effect. Tomorrow would decide everything.

Including the state of her very unstable marriage.

“Worrying won’t change anything.”

Cole’s deep voice sifted over her skin. Refusing to turn, she continued her vigil at the window. “I know that, but my mind has other ideas.”

His fingers curled around her shoulders, offering his strength and comfort. “Everything looks much worse after midnight. When the sun comes up, your entire perspective will change.”

“Promise?” She needed to believe him, wanted to just let it all go.

“I wish I could, honey.”

She twisted in his arms, laying her head against his bare chest, the warmth and scent of his skin giving her something else to think about.

“Cole, I’m so scared.” She leaned into him, letting him offer comfort, taking the strength he so willingly shared. The doubts, the fears, no longer mattered. When his arms were around her, she knew she loved enough for both of them, knew that she could make him happy. Blindly, she turned her face toward his, offering her lips.

After only a second of hesitation, he brought his mouth closer, their breath mingling, his warmth teasing her. Ever so slowly, he fitted his mouth over hers, sending a volcano of sensation shooting up deep inside her. She wanted to cry out against the sweet agony, but the only sound that escaped her lips was a low moan.

He pulled her closer, tracing his fingers over her skin, seeking out secret places she longed to have him touch. Desperate to return his touch, she traced the muscles of his shoulders.

“I love you.”