“Dear Abby...I’ve been chasing the same bad guy all over the Middle East. Got him!”
Never once had he written what he’d felt: “Dear Abby...I miss you.” It would have made those feelings too real, would have opened a door he hadn’t dared to open.
For the same reason he had never let her know how to contact him in return. He had feared that one sweet letter expressing even a hint of encouragement would draw him back into her life. He hadn’t been willing to risk it, for her sake and his own.
But for all of his precautions, he had never, ever forgotten the dark-haired angel of his soul, the one person who had always been able to bring him laughter in the midst of his deepest sorrows.
The only time Abby had been out of his thoughts at all had been when he was caught up in the challenging task of thwarting some terrorist or chasing after some elusive treasure that promised a reward of professional satisfaction as much as financial gain. Those often dangerous missions should have been enough to keep his mind fully engaged, but the image of Abby was always there, taunting him, making him long for things that simply couldn’t be.
For a few hours or a few days at most, he was able to push her image aside and immerse himself in the kind of cold, calculated concentration that had kept him alive, but never for longer than that. Sooner or later he would see a woman with long, dark hair or smell the scent of jasmine or hear a certain throaty, joyous laugh and immediately Abby would come to mind as vividly as if she were actually standing right next to him. And his heart would ache.
After a while the expected sense of excitement at succeeding on his most challenging, most dangerous assignments had been increasingly hard to come by. His work had suffered, as if the daring that had once sustained him through the worst that life had to offer no longer had the strength to mount this one last, pitiful battle against his loneliness. No other woman along the way had captured his heart. That belonged to the woman he had deliberately left behind.
That, in the end, was what had sent him back to Phoenix in time for Abby’s twenty-fifth birthday. He had needed to find out once and for all if everything he remembered about her was accurate or if his mind and heart were playing tricks on him. He needed to know so that he could get on with his life.
His first night back he had gotten his answer. It had taken no more than a glimpse through the Dennisons’ living room window to tell him that nothing had changed. His heart had filled with wonder just at the sight of her, her long hair a silken wave down her back, her face alight with laughter.
And then he had gone inside, held her in his arms for the space of a hug...and learned that she was engaged.
Nothing he’d ever experienced had prepared him for the sense of abandonment and desolation he had felt in that instant. He’d been overcome with regrets for all the time he had wasted, for the treasure he’d allowed to be stolen right out from under him. He had cursed himself for a fool for letting it happen, just as Jared had predicted he would if he let her go again.
And all the while on that awkward, devastating night he had been forced to offer congratulations to old Martin, to act as if his own heart weren’t breaking.
But as the planned two-week stay turned into three weeks, then four, Riley had begun to see signs that the engagement wasn’t the heaven-made match Abby pretended. He had been encouraged by her fascination with the details of each and every assignment he’d carried out over the years he’d been away. And he had planted the seeds to entice her into asking to come along on the trip to Mexico.
So, despite what anyone said, he knew without a doubt that what had happened to her here was his fault. She would never have asked, if he hadn’t deliberately opened the door, hoping...well, who knew what he had been hoping. Not this, though. Definitely not this.
He pressed a kiss against her knuckles, noting that the bruises were fading and the scrapes were finally healing. Soon the skin would be soft and smooth again. Soon, if he had his way, her hands would reach for him.
“I know you need more than words, more than promises this time, Abby, but I have changed and that’s the truth. With a little help from my friends,” he said, thinking of Jared’s unrelenting prodding, “I’ve realized that life is all about taking chances and that includes taking a risk on love and commitment. I don’t ever want to be separated from you again. I’m here for you now and I will always be there when you need me. Always.”
* * *
What was this nonsense about always, Abigail wondered irritably. Captain Riley Walker seemed to think he had some sort of permanent hold on her, just because he’d rescued her. Actually, to be more precise, he probably thought that those kisses he’d stolen, the awakening of her passion, gave him some sort of claim, as well. Perhaps at another time, under other circumstances, they might have.
The truth of it was that she’d discovered she was quite taken with him. He was indeed gorgeous. In fact he was just about the finest specimen of masculinity she’d ever encountered, she thought dreamily. And the way he had made her feel, well, the truth of it was that no one had ever made her senses soar in quite the same way.
But always? The word alone no longer had the power to seduce her. She needed proof. She needed actions.
Still thinking of that, she awoke with
