Beverly Barton has been in love with romance since her grandfather gave her an illustrated book of Beauty and the Beast. An avid reader since childhood, Beverly wrote her first book at nine. After marriage to her own “hero” and the births of her daughter and son, Beverly chose to be a full-time homemaker, aka wife, mother, friend and volunteer. This author of over thirty-five books is a member of Romance Writers of America and helped found the Heart of Dixie chapter. She has won numerous awards, and has made several appearances on bestseller lists.

In loving memory of our cocker spaniel, Cole, who was my faithful companion for nearly fifteen years.

Prologue

Leenie checked the refrigerator for the third time. The bottles of milk were there, as she knew they would be. Just where she’d put them. But she simply had to check a final time, had to make sure nothing had been left undone. After all, this was a turning point in her life, a make-or-break night. As she hurried by the computer desk in her kitchen, she glanced at the list of phone numbers posted by the telephone. Emergency numbers, her cell number, her private number at work, as well as the switchboard number.

Rushing out of the kitchen and down the hall, her heartbeat rapid and her stomach painfully knotted, she wondered why this had to be so difficult. It wasn’t as if she was the first woman in the world to go through this painful separation. Millions of women throughout the world had done what she was doing and most of them could probably sympathize with her feelings of guilt and fear.

As she neared the end of the hall, she slowed her pace, took a deep breath and told herself that she could do this. She was a strong woman. An independent woman. When she reached the nursery, she looked from Debra, who smiled compassionately, to Andrew, who lay sleeping peacefully in his bed, totally unaware of the trauma his mother was experiencing.

“Everything will be all right.” Debra draped her arm around Leenie’s shoulders. “You’ll be gone only a few hours and he’ll probably sleep the entire time you’re away.”

“But if he wakes and I’m not here…” Leenie pulled away from her son’s nanny, walked over to Andrew’s bassinet and watched her six-week-old baby as he slept. His little chest rose and fell softly with each tender breath he took. She reached out to touch his rosy cheek.

“If he wakes, I’ll be right here,” Debra assured her. “And if he’s hungry, you left breast milk in the fridge. You aren’t deserting him forever, you’re just going to work.”

“Maybe we should postpone this another week or so.” Leenie couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from Andrew, even for the four hours it would take her to drive to WJMM, do her two-hour midnight talk-show on the radio, set things up for her morning TV show and then drive home.

“No, we won’t postpone it,” Debra said firmly. “We can continue taking Andrew to the station every morning for your daytime show, but he shouldn’t be dragged out of his bed every night.” Debra crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her gaze. “Go to work, Leenie. You do your job and let me do mine.”

Sighing heavily, Leenie admitted her deepest fears. “But one of my jobs is being Andrew’s mother and if you do your job too well, my son will bond with you and not me.”

Huffing loudly, but following up with an understanding smile, Debra patted Leenie’s arm. “Andrew has already bonded with you. He knows you’re his mother. If I do my job well, and I’d like to think I’ve been doing that since the day we brought Andrew home from the hospital, then he’ll think of me as a favorite aunt or as a grandmother.”

“I’m being silly, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re being a good mother.”

“Am I a good mother? I’m not sure what makes a good mother. As you well know, I didn’t have one of my own. No mother at all raised me, good, bad or otherwise.”

“Jerry and I were parents to over fifty foster kids in our thirty years of marriage.” Debra sighed dreamily, as she always did whenever she mentioned her late husband, who had died two years ago at the age of sixty-three from a heart attack. “I’ve seen all kinds of mothers and I know a good one from a bad one.”

“Yes, I imagine you do. You were certainly an excellent role model for me when I lived with you and Jerry. I learned by watching the way you were with all of us foster children what a good mother is.” She had been fifteen when she’d been sent to live with Debra and Jerry Schmale, a young minister and his wife who’d been told they could never have children of their own and had decided they would give their love and time to unwanted, neglected kids of all ages. The three years she’d spent with the Schmales had been the best years of her childhood.

“You, Dr. Lurleen Patton, are a good mother,” Debra said.

“Even though I’m a single parent? Even though I didn’t provide Andrew with a father?”

“You told me that Andrew was the result of a very brief affair with a man you barely knew. A man who showed no interest in settling down. A man who was very careful to use protection each time y’all made love.”

Leenie nodded. “One of those times, that protection failed. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have gotten pregnant. But that wasn’t Frank’s fault.”

“You made the decision not to tell Andrew’s father about his existence because you felt it was the best thing for everyone concerned. Right?”

“Right.”

“Have you changed your mind?”

No, she hadn’t changed her mind. Although, truth be told, sometimes she wished she had called Frank the day she’d found out she was pregnant, called him and told him he was going to be a daddy. But she’d been so shocked herself that it had taken her weeks to figure out what to do. By the time she decided she wanted to keep her baby and raise it herself, she had also decided that the last thing Frank Latimer would want in his life was a child. Their entire relationship had lasted less than two weeks. Love hadn’t been involved. Just a major case of lust.

“No, I haven’t changed my mind. If Frank knew he had a child, it would simply complicate his life and mine, not to mention Andrew’s.”

Debra turned Leenie around, grasped her shoulders and all but shoved her out of the room. “If you don’t leave now, you’ll be late.” Debra walked Leenie into the hallway and all the way to the back door. “Call me every thirty minutes, if that will make you feel better—but go. Now!”

Leenie sighed. “Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Sometimes I think I need you even more than Andrew does.”

Debra hugged her, then lifted Leenie’s jacket and purse from where they hung on a coatrack near the door, handed them to her and said, “Drive carefully, call as often as you need to, have a great show tonight and I’ll be waiting up for you when you come home.”

Leenie slipped into her coat, draped her purse straps over her shoulder and opened the back door that led into the garage. She unlocked her new GMC Envoy SUV, a vehicle she’d purchased a month before her son’s birth. Of course she’d kept her sports car, but hadn’t used it since Andrew had been born because she never went anywhere without him. Use it tonight, she told herself. Get in your Mustang and fly off down the road.

After locking the SUV, she went over to the Mustang, unlocked it and got in, then revved the motor and hit the remote that opened the garage. Within minutes she was zipping along the highway that led from the suburbs of Maysville, Mississippi, into the downtown area where the studios for both WJMM radio and TV stations were located. She’d been doing a late-night radio talk show and a morning TV show for quite a few years and enjoyed being a local celebrity, a psychiatrist who doled out advice over the airwaves five days and nights a week.

When she’d been younger, she had longed to create a family of her own. Having grown up in a series of foster homes and remembering very little about her own parents, she had always felt so alone. Her mother had died when she was four and her father when she was eight. A skinny, gangly girl, who had talked too much and tried too hard to make others like her, she’d never had a real chance of being adopted. From eight to eighteen, she’d been shifted around from foster home to foster home. She’d felt unloved and unwanted all her life and by the time she hit thirty and Prince Charming hadn’t entered her life, she’d pretty much given up hope for that fantasized happily ever after ending in her life.

Although she’d been around the block a few times, as the old saying went, she wasn’t promiscuous. Each time she’d been in a committed relationship, she’d wanted it to be “the one.” And she’d never had a one-night stand. Not until Frank Latimer entered her life. Or should she say breezed in and out of her life. And technically, he hadn’t really been a one-night stand. More like a ten day mini-affair. She’d taken one look at the big lug and fallen hard and fast. They had set the sheets on fire and what she’d thought would be a one-nighter turned into a very brief, extremely passionate relationship.

Leenie wished it wasn’t late November already so she could put the top down on her car and achieve that wild and free feeling it gave her to ride with the wind. Maybe that’s what she needed—some cold night air to clear away the cobwebs. As hard as she tried to relegate Frank Latimer to the back of her mind, to put him into the past where he belonged, she found it difficult, if not impossible, to do. Although Andrew had her blond hair and blue eyes, he resembled Frank or the way she was sure Frank had looked as a baby. And every time she looked at her son, she saw his father. How could she—a psychiatrist who’d been trained to understand the human psyche—have ever thought she’d be able to forget about the man who had fathered her child? Whether or not he was actually in her life, he’d always be a part of it. Andrew was the living, breathing proof of that.

She’d told Debra that she wasn’t having any second thoughts about contacting Frank to let him know he had a child, but maybe she’d been lying to herself as well as Debra. Maybe she should call Frank, feel him out, see if there was somebody special in his life these days. Or maybe she should just fly to Atlanta and take Andrew with her. No, she couldn’t do that, couldn’t just show up on Frank’s doorstep.

Stop debating the issue, she told herself. You’re not going to call Frank. And she wasn’t going to fly to Atlanta. If he had the slightest interest in renewing his relationship with her, he’d have called by now. After all, it was over ten months since he’d said goodbye and walked out of her life without a backward glance. She had to accept the fact that Frank wasn’t her Prince Charming, accept the fact that there was no such animal. Just because he’d been different from the other men she’d known didn’t mean she was as special to him as he had been to her. What they’d had wasn’t love. It was just sex.

Chapter One

Leenie glanced across the table at Jim Isbell, a goodlooking, likable guy. He had asked her out after their initial meeting last week when he’d appeared on her morning TV show in a segment about group therapy. Jim was a psychologist who worked with families in trouble—drugs, alcohol, infidelity and various other problems that plagued many people in today’s complex modern society. This was their first date—one she’d been looking forward to eagerly. It was a simple workday lunch between friends. No strings attached. Nothing that would put pressure on either of them. Everyone who knew her, including Debra, had encouraged her to start dating again. After all, she hadn’t been out with a man since she’d found out she was pregnant. Now Andrew was nearly two months old and adjusting beautifully to having a working mother. Debra brought him to the studio several days a week, but kept him home in his own bed at night. Although Leenie loved her job, her son was the center of her world.

“So, are you interested?” Jim asked.

“Hmm?”

“Dinner and a movie this weekend,” Jim said.

“Oh, uh…yes. That might be nice.” Nice. Such an odd word, with so many meanings. And often a bland word, one that conveyed very little emotion. Oh, jeez, Leenie, don’t overanalyze your response about the date. You meant the word nice in the…well, in the nicest way. She smiled to herself. You like Jim. Obviously he likes you. You’ve had a pleasant lunch, so why not follow up with a dinner date?

Nice? Pleasant? Why not fantastic or great or fabulous or wonderful? What if Frank Latimer asked her out for a dinner date? You wouldn’t be using such lukewarm adjectives, now would you? An inner voice taunted. Stop it! She shouldn’t compare Jim to Frank. They were apples and oranges. Yeah, sure they were, but Jim was such a boring apple and Frank had been such an incredible orange.

Frank with the sexy gray eyes and hard, lean body. Frank, who had memorized every inch of her with his bedroom eyes, with his big hands and his mouth and tongue. Frank, who always looked like an unmade bed and had a way of curling her toes without even touching her.

“Lurleen?”

“Huh?” Apparently Jim had said something to which he expected a response and since she’d been thinking about another man, she hadn’t heard a word Jim had said.

“You’re a million miles away, aren’t you?”

“Sorry, Jim, it’s just that I—”

“No need to explain. You’re thinking about your son, aren’t you? New mothers tend to obsess about their babies. But you really should work your way through those typical feelings about neglecting and abandoning your child in favor of your career. You’re too smart to believe that you have to be the most important person in his life right now. After all, you have a perfectly capable nanny, don’t you?”

“Yes, a very capable nanny.”

“I understand that you have an extra burden of guilt on your shoulders since you’re a single mother.”

Leenie stared at Jim as he continued talking, giving her his opinion about the correct way to rear children, especially a son without a father figure. Not one to take criticism or advice well, his comments aggravated her. Who was he to be giving her advice? Had she asked him to share his wisdom on the subject of raising children?

“Jim!”

With his mouth open midsentence, he stopped talking and looked quizzically at her. “Yes?”

She’d been about to lambaste him, tell him in no uncertain terms that her relationship with her son was none of his damn business. Instead she said, “Let’s order dessert. Cheesecake.”

He arched his eyebrows in a disapproving manner. “Are you sure you want the extra calories? After all, you probably still have some baby fat you want to lose.”

He smiled at her in his good-natured manner. And she wanted to slap him. Baby fat, indeed! She weighed now precisely what she’d weighed before she’d gotten pregnant, having dropped twenty pounds when Andrew was born and another ten in the past two months. Everyone else she knew had marveled over how quickly she’d gotten back in shape.

“Right. No dessert.” It wasn’t the calories she could do without, it was the company. She gritted her teeth to keep from telling him off in no uncertain terms. “Look, I just remembered that I have a previous engagement this weekend, so I’ll have to forego dinner and a movie.” She shoved back her chair and stood.

Ever the gentleman, Jim stood up. “Perhaps lunch again next week, then?”

“Perhaps.” She picked up her purse.

“I’ll call you.”

“Please do. I hate to run, but—”

“Work awaits,” he said.

“Yes.”

She didn’t bother to contradict him, to tell him she was going home where she’d spend the afternoon and early evening with Andrew. Nodding, she forced a smile, then hurried away from the table, out of the restaurant and to her car. Once inside, she checked her watch. Two-fifteen. She’d go on home and be there in time to help put away groceries. About now Debra and Andrew were at Foodland on their weekly shopping excursion. Usually Leenie joined them for lunch on Fridays and afterward they bought groceries together, but today she’d had a date. A waste of time. Time she could have spent with her son.

Wonder if it’s too late to join them at Foodland? She could buy one of those frozen cheesecakes and indulge at supper tonight. That’s what she’d do. Eat cheesecake and forget about Jim Isbell. Out there somewhere was another guy who wouldn’t bore her to tears. Someone as much fun as Frank. As sexy as Frank. As good in bed as Frank.

All right already. Enough about Frank!

Frank is the past. Jim Isbell was a dud. Think about Andrew. And cheesecake.

Frank Latimer stretched out as best he could in his seat, thankful that he was in first class and not stuck back in coach. Most of the time when he flew, it was on the luxurious Dundee jet, but when his latest job had ended today, the jet was already en route to Key West, taking a crew of Dundee’s best for a top secret assignment. He was set for a week off and planned to do some fishing while he relaxed at Sawyer McNamara’s Hilton Head vacation house. He’d been working practically nonstop for nearly a year now. When he’d left Maysville, Mississippi, eleven months ago, he’d taken a European assignment just to get him out of the country and as far away as was possible from a certain long and lean blonde. If there had been a flight to Mars eleven months ago, he’d have taken it.

“Would you care for another glass of tea, Mr. Latimer?” the attractive brunette flight attendant asked. He’d noticed her immediately, the minute he’d boarded his flight from Chicago to Atlanta. Ms. Gant was petite and slender, with big eyes and big boobs and a come-hither smile.

“No, thank you.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Oh, yeah, there was something she could do for him all right. He was in bad need of a warm body in his bed. For months after his whirlwind affair with Leenie Patton, he hadn’t touched another woman. Then he’d convinced himself that what he needed to get Leenie out of his system was a woman—actually a lot of women. He’d tried that, but it hadn’t worked. No one had tasted like Leenie or felt like Leenie or sounded like Leenie. So after gorging himself on nameless, faceless bed partners, he’d sworn off women altogether, at least until he could stop wanting one particular lady—a sexy, wild woman he’d called Slim.

“Mr. Latimer?”

“Huh?”

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m fine.”

No, he wasn’t fine. He was tired. This last job had lasted six weeks and he’d been shot at twice and wound up in three fistfights. He badly needed some major down-time. And Sawyer’s luxurious home in Hilton Head was just the ticket. If he could find a gorgeous, sexy blonde to spend the week with him, he’d have it made. It was time to end his months of celibacy.

The trouble is you don’t want just any gorgeous, sexy blonde. You want Slim. She’s what you want. All you want.

So why not call her up when he landed in Atlanta? And say what? I’ve been thinking about you for eleven months? Every time I slept with somebody else, I wished she was you?

“Hell, no!”

Frank didn’t realize he’d cursed aloud until Ms. Gant said, “Yes, Mr. Latimer, did you say something?”

“Just talking to myself,” he told her. “That happens when you get old.”

She giggled like a teenager and flashed him a brilliant smile. “You’re hardly old.”

“I’m forty,” he admitted, feeling every year of it.

“That’s not old. That’s the prime of life for a man.”

He chuckled. “I thought prime time for a guy was eighteen.”

She moistened her lips. “A man of forty has experience that a younger man doesn’t. I prefer experience.”

She’s putting it out there for you, Latimer, he told himself. All you have to do is take what she’s offering. He was tempted. Damn tempted. Even if she wasn’t a long-legged, willowy blonde.

Leaning down close to his ear, she whispered, “I’ll be in Atlanta overnight.”

“How about dinner?” He’d definitely been celibate long enough. Months of doing without wasn’t his style. It was time he tried sex again. And past time to get Leenie Patton out of his system.

Two blocks from Foodland, Leenie heard the wail of sirens—police and ambulance—and couldn’t help wondering if there had been a bad wreck somewhere nearby. The first thought that flashed through her mind was that Andrew and Debra had been involved in the accident. But she quickly dismissed the idea as nothing more than her tendency to worry much too much about Andrew whenever he was out of her sight. Of course she understood that her worries, concerns and fears were perfectly natural, that almost every new mother experienced these emotions whether she was a working mom or a stay at home mom. Naturally, being a single parent only added to her concerns about motherhood. With each passing day of Andrew’s life, Leenie felt more and more guilty for not having contacted Frank to tell him about their child. She had given herself every reason not to call him, to keep Andrew’s existence a secret from him, but in the end she knew, in her heart of hearts, that Frank had a right to know.

Admit it, she told herself, you’re scared to tell Frank the truth. If she told him and he didn’t want to be a part of Andrew’s life, she’d wonder what kind of man he really was. On the other hand, if he wanted to be a part of his son’s life, but didn’t want her in the bargain, then she’d have to not only share Andrew, but she’d have to accept the fact that she’d never been special to Frank.

As she cruised down the tree-lined street at thirty-five miles an hour, she forced her mind off Frank Latimer and onto cheesecake. Wonder if Foodland has any chocolate cheesecake? she mused.

Suddenly the Lexus in front of her eased to a halt behind a line of other vehicles. Noting that the car’s brake lights had come on, Leenie stopped her SUV and tried to see what lay ahead. Able to make out the whirl of blue flashing lights in the distance, she figured traffic had been stopped at the scene of the accident about a block ahead of her. If the wreck had just occurred, it could take quite a while to clear things up and get traffic moving again. Her lane was stalled and the other lane was empty, as if traffic had been stopped on the other side of the police car up ahead. She sighed. I should have gone home instead of heading to Foodland to meet up with Debra and Andrew, she thought. If she got stuck here for very long, she’d call Debra on her cell phone to let her know why she was delayed.

Tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, she hummed. And waited. Suddenly an ambulance flew by, its siren mournfully eerie. Once again, an odd sensation hit Leenie in the pit of her stomach. Don’t do this to yourself, she cautioned. Stop thinking Debra’s Saturn was involved in the wreck. Debra and Andrew were either still at Foodland or they were stalled on the other side of the accident and were waiting in line, just as she was.

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