Catalina did love Isabelle, though in a mystifying way that he couldn’t wrap his mind around. Catalina was far too self-serving and egotistical to be a decent mother, yet she knew it and felt guilty about it. It was clear she regretted how she allowed her daughters to be raised and what had happened to them in the care of others….

One of her caretakers had locked Isabelle in a closet for four days.

Thomas tried to find some pity in his heart for Catalina, some way to help her make the connection with her surviving daughter that she was too clumsy to make herself…and came up short. He only felt searing rage for Catalina right now. Maybe sometime later he’d feel something else.

All Thomas wanted now was Isabelle in his arms. All he wanted was the impossible—to turn back the clock and make the pain go away for her, to give her a childhood like he’d had. One in which she’d been safe, loved, and protected.

He turned on his heel, sought the door and the woman he was falling in love with.

ISABELLE STOOD ON ONE OF THE MANY BRIDGES IN THE Coven conservatory, watching gardeners tend the plants and flowers that grew in profusion. This was the first place she’d thought of when she’d left her mother, a quiet, serene place where she could be alone with her thoughts.

And there was water here. The sound of the small stream burbling happily underneath the bridge upon which she stood calmed her. She focused on the current, the flow of the water around rocks and over pebbles, sluicing by the koi that swam in it. Isabelle joined her consciousness with it for a moment and all her residual tension leaked away.

Water took the path of least resistance.

For just a flicker of time when she’d first seen Catalina, she’d seriously wondered if her mother had come because she was grieving Angela. Perhaps her mother had made the trip to Chicago because she cared that one of her daughters had died. Maybe Catalina had even come for her remaining daughter, Isabelle. The little girl inside her who still yearned for her mother’s affection had experienced a flash of guarded happiness. That one instant of hope had made the realization Catalina had come only for the will that much more devastating.

Isabelle closed her eyes. She couldn’t deny there was still a part of her that longed for her mother to be a mother. Clearly, that would never happen. She needed to stop wishing for it.

Isabelle sensed Thomas behind her long before she heard his step on the bridge or felt his broad, warm hand on her shoulder. She closed her eyes and sighed. How could it be that his presence made everything seem better?