Unbidden, an image of a woman in leopard-print underwear and a black tank top wielding a pair of pliers like they were a loaded handgun came to mind, and he grinned. He had no idea who she was or if she was married to some six-foot-nine tattooed biker, but it was the first time he’d ever been threatened with violence after climbing in bed with a woman. They usually took off their clothes and welcomed him with open arms. Despite the cloud of doom he’d been carrying with him these past few months, he was intrigued to know more.

Ten minutes later, he was dressed and gingerly making his way down the stairs with the cane, taking in his surroundings. He knew Wade Carter, former Broncos quarterback, was rich. Hell, as one of Australia’s top rugby players, Cole was no slouch in the money department, either. But Wade was wealthy in a way an Australian pro rugby player could only ever dream about, and this house was…something else. From the giant chandelier hanging from the ceiling above the rather grand entrance room to the sweeping staircase to the craftsmanship of the fixtures, he was utterly impressed.

And he’d been to Buckingham Palace.

Following his nose and his grumbling stomach, Cole found his way down one of the hallways that ran off the central reception area to where he could hear voices. The kitchen, as it turned out. The room was dominated by a huge central work area in the middle and large windows overlooking the backyard on the wall opposite. Light flooded in despite the hour, accentuating the open, airy space. It gleamed off the metallic cupboard knobs, sparkled in the glassware mounted in transparent wall cabinets, and shone off the pans hanging from the huge pot rack suspended above the cooktop.

The woman and her son were sitting at the far end of the central bench at right angles to each other, eating some kind of pasta. She was in the same shorts and T-shirt as earlier.

“Evening,” he said as he lounged in the doorway, pressing his shoulder into the frame.

She startled a little as she swiftly glanced over her shoulder at him, her ponytail bobbing. “Oh…hi.” She tensed visibly. “You’re awake.”

Her lack of enthusiasm at his presence was almost comical. “I am,” Cole confirmed, pushing off the doorway and closing the distance between them. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.” Leaning his cane against his leg as he drew even, he stuck out his right hand. “I’m Cole Hauser.”

“Yes,” she said, taking his hand in a brief shake. “I know.”

Okay. She wasn’t going to make this easy. “And you would be?”

“Jane. Spencer.”

He inclined his head as her hand slipped away. “Pleased to meet you, Jane Spencer.”