Книга - The Devaney Brothers: Michael and Patrick: Michael’s Discovery

The Devaney Brothers: Michael and Patrick: Michael's Discovery
Sherryl Woods


www.SherrylWoods.com#1 New York Times bestselling author Sherryl Woods brings readers two classic tales of the Devaneys…brothers torn apart in childhood, reunited by love. Michael's Discovery For years, Kelly Andrews has waited for her big brother's best friend to notice her. As the physical therapist assigned to his recovery, she's finally getting the chance. But navy SEAL Michael Devaney is broken in body and spirit, and all he sees is himself–as half a man. He's sure he'll never be enough for the beautiful and vibrant Kelly. Can Kelly convince him that he's all the man she would ever need?Patrick's Destiny Devastated by the discovery of a terrible family secret, Patrick Devaney has shut out the world. But enchanting kindergarten teacher Alice Newberry sees the hurt in his eyes and is determined to help Patrick find peace. She knows it will take a lesson in love and forgiveness to coax the brooding fisherman out of hiding. Soon, Patrick begins to hope, but before he can truly claim Alice as his own, he has to face the greatest challenge of his life–his past.







#1 New York Times bestselling author Sherryl Woods brings readers two classic tales of the Devaneys…brothers torn apart in childhood, reunited by love.

Michael’s Discovery

For years, Kelly Andrews has waited for her big brother’s best friend to notice her. As the physical therapist assigned to his recovery, she’s finally getting the chance. But navy SEAL Michael Devaney is broken in body and spirit, and all he sees is himself—as half a man. He’s sure he’ll never be enough for the beautiful and vibrant Kelly. Can Kelly convince him that he’s all the man she would ever need?

Patrick’s Destiny

Devastated by the discovery of a terrible family secret, Patrick Devaney has shut out the world. But enchanting kindergarten teacher Alice Newberry sees the hurt in his eyes and is determined to help Patrick find peace. She knows it will take a lesson in love and forgiveness to coax the brooding fisherman out of hiding. Soon, Patrick begins to hope, but before he can truly claim Alice as his own, he has to face the greatest challenge of his life—his past.


Praise for the novels of Sherryl Woods

“Skillfully introducing readers to The Devaneys, Sherryl Woods scores another winner.”

—RT Book Reviews on Sean’s Reckoning

“Sherryl Woods writes emotionally satisfying novels about family, friendship and home. Truly feel-great reads!”

—#1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber

“Woods is a master heartstring puller.”

—Publishers Weekly on Seaview Inn

“Woods’s readers will eagerly anticipate her trademark small-town setting, loyal friendships, and honorable mentors as they meet new characters and reconnect with familiar ones in this heartwarming tale.”

—Booklist on Home in Carolina

“Once again, Woods, with such authenticity, weaves a tale of true love and the challenges that can knock up against that love.”

—RT Book Reviews on Beach Lane

“In this sweet, sometimes funny and often touching story, the characters are beautifully depicted, and readers…will…want to wish themselves away to Seaview Key.”

—RT Book Reviews on Seaview Inn

“Woods…is noted for appealing character-driven stories that are often infused with the flavor and fragrance of the South.”

—Library Journal

“A whimsical, sweet scenario…the digressions have their own charm, and Woods never fails to come back to the romantic point.”

—Publishers Weekly on Sweet Tea at Sunrise


Also by #1 New York Times bestselling author Sherryl Woods

THE DEVANEY BROTHERS: RYAN AND SEAN

HOME TO SEAVIEW KEY

SEAVIEW INN

TWILIGHT

A SEASIDE CHRISTMAS***

TEMPTATION

SEA GLASS ISLAND††

WIND CHIME POINT††

SAND CASTLE BAY††

WHERE AZALEAS BLOOM*

CATCHING FIREFLIES*

MIDNIGHT PROMISES*

THE SUMMER GARDEN***

AN O’BRIEN FAMILY CHRISTMAS***

BEACH LANE***

MOONLIGHT COVE***

DRIFTWOOD COTTAGE***

RETURN TO ROSE COTTAGE†

HOME AT ROSE COTTAGE†

A CHESAPEAKE SHORES CHRISTMAS***

HONEYSUCKLE SUMMER*

SWEET TEA AT SUNRISE*

HOME IN CAROLINA*

HARBOR LIGHTS***

FLOWERS ON MAIN***

THE INN AT EAGLE POINT***

WELCOME TO SERENITY*

MENDING FENCES

FEELS LIKE FAMILY*

A SLICE OF HEAVEN*

STEALING HOME*

WAKING UP IN CHARLESTON

FLIRTING WITH DISASTER

THE BACKUP PLAN

DESTINY UNLEASHED

FLAMINGO DINER

ALONG CAME TROUBLE**

ASK ANYONE**

ABOUT THAT MAN**

ANGEL MINE

AFTER TEX

*The Sweet Magnolias

**Trinity Harbor

***Chesapeake Shores

†The Rose Cottage Sisters

††Ocean Breeze

Look for more of The Devaney Brothers

DANIEL

available soon from Harlequin MIRA


The Devaney Brothers:

Michael & Patrick

Sherryl Woods






www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)


Dear Friends,

Years ago, I heard a question on Jeopardy about the most successful Disney movies of all time. It stated that they all had something to do with orphans. Well, who am I to argue with the Disney magic? Thus the Devaneys were born—five brothers, separated for years, thanks to a decision by desperate parents.

As each story unfolds and the brothers are reunited, more and more questions arise about why their parents allowed them to be separated. Readers have debated ever since about whether their reasons were valid or impossible to understand. As you come to know the brothers, I hope you’ll share your thoughts with me, as well. Put yourselves in the parents’ shoes and think about what you might have done under the same circumstances.

In the meantime, I’m delighted that the emotional stories of Ryan, Sean, Michael, Patrick and Daniel are coming back into print. I’ll look forward to hearing from you.

All best,

Sherryl


Table of Contents

Michael’s Discovery (#u59c0c42e-d57c-5779-b74c-eb0a40600aa7)

Patrick’s Destiny (#litres_trial_promo)


Michael’s Discovery


Contents

Prologue (#ub46dcdbf-ca74-58a0-8caf-143cbc4e76cc)

Chapter 1 (#u240a07ae-de25-5108-a2f8-e8b492f39461)

Chapter 2 (#u980289a0-74cb-5680-988a-5458bc2df11a)

Chapter 3 (#u7eb736bd-deaf-5dfe-a3de-b12815ad281b)

Chapter 4 (#u3109dc5b-9a5b-55f7-a90a-943d03d5529f)

Chapter 5 (#ue4a853ce-3d1c-5995-9e95-7447fb30172c)

Chapter 6 (#u0bae3d66-79e9-5ec9-be86-bf80e611d170)

Chapter 7 (#uc344de8d-39cd-5bb1-b1f1-e4124cef1cf6)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)


Prologue

Even through the haze of pain, Michael was aware of the charged atmosphere in his San Diego hospital room. The doctors had just delivered their dire predictions for his future with the Navy SEALs. Nurse Judy, normally a fountain of inconsequential, cheery small talk, was fluffing his pillow with total concentration, carefully avoiding his gaze. Clearly everyone was waiting for his explosion of outrage, his cries of despair. Michael refused to give them the satisfaction—not just yet anyway.

“Okay,” he said, gritting his teeth against the hot, burning pain radiating through his leg. “That’s the worst-case scenario. What’s the best I can hope for?”

His doctors—the best orthopedic doctors anywhere, according to his boss—exchanged the kind of look that Michael recognized. He’d seen it most often when an entire op was about to go up in flames. He’d been seeing it a lot since a sniper had blasted one bullet through his knee, then shattered his thigh bone with another. The head injury that had left him in a coma had been minor by comparison. The patchwork repairs to his bones had apparently just begun.

He still wasn’t sure how long he’d been out of touch, left for dead by the terrorist cell he’d penetrated. He did know that had it not been for a desperate, last-ditch effort by his team members, he would have died in that hellhole. He should be grateful to be alive, but if his career was over, how could he be? Though he was determined not to show it, despair was already clawing at him.

“Just tell me, dammit!” he commanded the expressionless doctors.

“That was the best-case scenario,” the older of the two men told him. “Worst case? You could still lose your leg.”

Michael felt a roar of protest building in his chest, but years of containing his emotions kept him silent. Only a muscle working in his jaw gave away the anguish he was feeling.

His entire identity was tied up with being a Navy SEAL. The danger, the adrenaline rush, the skill, the teamwork—all of it gave him a sense of purpose. With it, he was a hero. Without it, he was just an ordinary guy.

And years ago, abandoned by his parents, separated from his brothers, Michael had made a vow that he would never settle for being ordinary. Ordinary kids got left behind. Ordinary men were a dime a dozen. He’d driven himself to excel from his first day of kindergarten right on through SEAL training. Now these doctors were telling him he’d never excel again, at least not physically. He might not even walk...at least not for a long, long time. As for losing his leg, that was not an option.

With that in mind, he leveled a look first at one man, then the other. “Let’s see to it that doesn’t happen, okay? I’m a mean son of a gun when I’m pissed, and that would really piss me off.”

Nurse Judy chuckled, then bit off the reaction. “Sorry.”

Michael shifted slightly, winced at the pain, then winked at her. “It always pays to keep a man who’s itchy to use a knife aware of the consequences.”

She touched a cool hand to his cheek and studied him with concern. Since she was at least fifty, he had a hunch the gesture was nothing more than a subtle check of his temperature. The woman hadn’t kept her hands to herself since he’d been brought in two days ago with a raging fever from the infection that had spread from his leg wounds throughout his body. She’d been with him when he was rushed straight into surgery to try to repair the damage that had occurred halfway across the world. The doctors in the field hospital had done their best, but there had been little doubt that his injuries would require a higher level of medical skill.

He gave the nurse a pale imitation of his usually devastating smile. She was beginning to show signs of exhaustion, but she hadn’t left his side, unless she’d stolen a catnap while he’d been out of it in the operating room. Obviously she’d been hired by his bosses because she took her private-duty nursing assignments seriously. And given his own level of security clearance, hers was probably just as high in case he started muttering classified information in his sleep.

“How about some pain meds?” she asked. “You’ve been turning me down all morning. This stoic act of yours is beginning to get old. You’ll heal faster in the long run if you’re not in agony.”

“I wanted to be alert for the prognosis,” he reminded her.

“And now?”

“I think I’d better stay alert to make sure those two stay the hell away from my leg.”

Just then there was a flurry of activity at the doorway, a hushed conversation, and then two tall, dark-haired men were pushing their way inside, ignoring the doctors’ protests that no visitors were allowed.

“Why not take that medication, bro? We’re here now. Nothing’s going to happen to your leg on our watch,” the older of the two said, pulling a chair up beside the bed and shooting a warning look at the doctors that would have intimidated an entire fleet of the Navy’s finest.

An image floated through Michael’s hazy memory. He looked again and suddenly a name came to him, a name he hadn’t thought of in years. “Ryan?”

“It’s me, kid,” his oldest brother responded, squeezing Michael’s hand. “Sean’s here, too.”

To his total chagrin, Michael blinked back tears. So many years, but there had been a time when he’d shadowed his two older brothers everywhere they went. They had been his heroes, at least until they had deserted him. To a shaken four-year-old that’s how it had seemed on the day he’d been taken away to live with a different foster family—as if the cornerstones of his world had abandoned him. Coming on the heels of his parents’ vanishing with the twins, it had been too much. He’d pushed all thoughts of the other Devaneys from his mind, kept them locked away in a dark place where the memories couldn’t hurt him.

And now, all these years later, his older brothers at least were back, the timely arrival just as mysterious as the untimely disappearance.

“How did you find me?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion. “Where did you come from?”

“We’ll get into all that later. Right now, you need some sleep,” Ryan soothed.

Michael studied him, then sought out Sean. He would have recognized them anywhere, he thought. It was like looking in the mirror: the same black hair—even if his was military crewcut short—the same blue eyes. They’d all inherited Connor Devaney’s roguish good looks, for better or for worse.

Their father had been a handsome devil, one generation removed from Ireland and with a gift for blarney. An image of him crept into Michael’s head from time to time, always accompanied by deeply entrenched bitterness. If there was a God in heaven, Connor Devaney would rot in hell for taking his wife and their youngest sons and walking away from Michael, Sean and Ryan.

“Lieutenant, how about that pain medication now?” Nurse Judy asked gently.

Michael wanted to protest. He had so many questions he wanted to ask his brothers. But one glance at the way Ryan and Sean had settled in reassured him that they weren’t going anywhere. Nor was any surgeon going to get anywhere near his damaged leg as long as they were around.

“Sure,” he said, finally giving in.

Michael felt the prick of a needle in his arm, the slow retreat of pain and then his eyes drifted shut and for the first time since he’d been flown home to California, he felt safe enough to fall into a deep, untroubled sleep.


1

Six months later, Boston

Michael maneuvered his wheelchair across the floor and set the lock. He eyed the sofa and debated whether its comfort was worth the effort it would take to heave himself out of the chair. Every damn day was filled with such inconsequential challenges. After years of trying to sort through the life-and-death logistics of SEAL missions, it grated on him that the simple decision of where to sit to watch another boring afternoon of television took on such importance.

“You want some help?” Ryan asked, his expression neutral.

Over the past few weeks, when his brother had been popping in and out of California on a regular basis, Michael had learned to recognize that look. It meant that Ryan was feeling sorry for him and was trying not to show it.

The attempt was pretty lame, but Ryan was actually better at it than Sean. Sean’s obvious pity was almost more than Michael could take, which was one reason Ryan had been designated to pick him up at the airport and to help him settle into his new apartment.

Michael had discovered that the grown-up Ryan was a low-key kind of guy. He ran his own Irish pub and had settled into family life with a woman named Maggie who seldom took no for an answer. Michael had already had a few encounters with her on the phone and discovered she masked an iron will with sweet talk.

Sean, however, was a recently married firefighter, an active man who would have chafed at the restrictions on his life, just as Michael did. Maybe that was the reason that Sean couldn’t seem to hide his sympathy each time he saw Michael in this damnable wheelchair. They probably needed to talk about it, but neither one of them had gotten up the nerve. Besides, what was there to say?

“I still don’t know how I let you all talk me into moving back to Boston,” Michael grumbled as he waved off Ryan’s offer of help and struggled to move from the wheelchair to the sofa on his own. “There must be a foot of snow out there. In San Diego, I could be basking in the sunshine beside a pool.”

“But you wouldn’t be,” Ryan said wryly. “The way I hear it, you hadn’t set foot outside since you left the hospital.”

Michael scowled. His brother clearly had too much information about his habits. There were only a handful of people who could have given it to him, most of them men Michael could have sworn were totally loyal to him.

“Who ratted me out?” he inquired testily.

Ryan held up his hands. “I’ve been sworn to secrecy. Your men seem to think you have a particularly nasty temper when crossed.”

At least he could still intimidate somebody, Michael thought with satisfaction. It was a consolation. He certainly hadn’t been able to intimidate Ryan’s wife, Maggie, though.

Maggie was the one who’d called every single, blessed day pestering him to come East. She’d ignored his cranky responses, talked right over his blistering tirades and pretty much won him over with her silky sweet threats. He wondered if Ryan knew what a weapon he had living with him. Michael was convinced that Maggie Devaney could take over a small country if she was of a mind to. Michael could hardly wait to meet her in person, though he’d prefer to be in top-notch form when he did.

“Why didn’t your wife come to the airport with you?” he asked his brother.

“She thought you might like a little time to yourself to get used to things,” Ryan said. “She did send along a list of therapists for you to consider. She said you’d been discussing it, but hadn’t agreed to hire one yet.”

Michael frowned at the understatement. “Actually, what I told her was that I wasn’t interested. I could have sworn I’d made that clear.”

“You’re content to spend the rest of your life in that wheelchair?” Ryan asked mildly.

“The doctors are the ones who consigned me to a wheelchair,” Michael responded bitterly. The shattered bone in his thigh had taken two additional surgeries, and the doctors still weren’t convinced it would ever heal properly. His knee was artificial. He felt like the Bionic Man, only one who’d gotten faulty parts.

Even if everything healed and worked, he’d never have the agility to return to the kind of work he loved. His navy career was definitely over. He’d declined the offer to push papers behind some desk at the Pentagon. Michael shuddered at the very thought—he’d rather eat raw squid. So he was twenty-seven and out of work and out of hope. He’d learn to live with it...eventually.

Ryan leveled an uncompromising look straight at him. “Is that so? You’re blaming this on the doctors? The way I hear it—”

“You apparently hear too damned much,” Michael retorted. “Has it occurred to you that I was doing just fine before you and Sean—and your wives—came busting back into my life? I don’t need you meddling now. If I decide to stay in Boston, I won’t have all of you making me some sort of project.” He leveled a daunting look of his own. “Are we clear on that?”

“No project,” Ryan echoed dutifully.

Michael studied his brother with a narrowed gaze. That had gone a little too easily, he thought just as the doorbell rang. He scowled at Ryan. “You invite somebody else over?”

Ryan looked just the teensiest bit guilty. “It could be Maggie.”

“I thought you said she was giving me some space.”

Ryan shrugged. “Well, that’s the thing with Maggie. She has her own ideas about how much space a man should have.”

“Great. That’s just great.” Michael eyed his wheelchair with frustration. No way in hell could he haul himself back into the thing and get out of the room before Ryan opened the door. As curious as he was to see the woman who’d married his oldest brother, he wasn’t ready for the meeting to take place today. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it. He resigned himself to an early introduction to his sister-in-law.

Before he could catch his breath, Maggie burst into the room, her cheeks red, her eyes flashing and her hair like something from a painting of an auburn-haired goddess. No wonder his brother had fallen for her. Michael was half in love himself, but that was before he caught sight of the curly-haired toddler clutching her hand.

“This is Maggie,” Ryan said unnecessarily. “And the pint-size replica is Caitlyn. She’s just learned to walk, and she has only one speed—full throttle.”

The warning came too late. Caitlyn took one look at Michael, broke free of her mother’s grasp and hurtled straight toward him on her chubby, wobbly legs. She was about to grab his injured leg in her powerful little grasp when Michael instinctively bent forward and scooped her up.

Wide green eyes stared at him in shock. He expected immediate tears, but instead a slow smile blossomed on her little face, and he was an instant goner. He’d never realized a kid could steal a person’s heart in less than ten seconds flat.

He sat her on his good leg. “Hiya, Caitlyn. I’m your Uncle Mike.”

She studied him intently, then lifted a hand and patted his cheek.

“She’s not saying too much yet,” Maggie said, “but trust me, she knows how to make herself understood.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Michael said, already thoroughly under little Caitlyn’s spell.

“Think you can handle her for five minutes?” Maggie asked. “I have groceries in the car. I’m afraid I overdid it. I could use Ryan’s help bringing them in.”

“Sure. Miss Caitlyn and I will be fine.” He wasn’t sure how he knew that. It was just that it was the first time in months that someone wasn’t looking at him with pity. His niece’s expression was merely curious. He could deal with friendly curiosity, especially from someone who hadn’t yet learned how to ask complete and probing questions.

But the instant Ryan and Maggie left, Michael had a sudden attack of nerves. He didn’t know a whole lot about kids. He had dim memories of his twin brothers, but he’d been little more than a toddler himself when the family had split up. He’d been the youngest in his foster family. Now both of his foster sisters were married, but so far were childless. A couple of the guys on his SEAL team had children, but Michael had tended to steer clear of the gatherings when they’d been present. He didn’t like the feelings of envy that washed through him when he was surrounded by tight-knit families.

“So, kid, what do you like to do?” he asked the toddler who seemed perfectly content to sit cuddled in his arms. “I’ll bet you have a doll or two at home. Maybe a stuffed bear.”

Caitlyn listened intently, but said nothing.

“Then, again, maybe you’re one of those liberated little girls who has cars and trucks,” Michael continued. “Your mom strikes me as the kind of woman who’d want you to grow up knowing that you have options.”

Apparently he’d said the wrong thing, because Caitlyn suddenly looked around the room and huge tears promptly welled up in her eyes.

“Mama,” she wailed loudly. “Mama!”

She sounded as if her little heart was breaking. Feeling desperate, Michael awkwardly patted her back. “Hey, it’s okay. Your mama is just outside. She and your daddy will be right back.”

That brought on a fresh round of tears. “Da-da-da!”

Michael was at a loss. He was about to panic, when the door swung open and Maggie and Ryan came breezing in. Maggie grinned, set the groceries beside the door and swooped in to pick up the squalling child.

“Hey, baby girl, what’s all that noise?” Maggie chided.

Just like that, the wails trailed off and the tears stopped. “Mama,” Caitlyn said contentedly, patting Maggie’s cheek. Then she turned back to Michael and held out her arms.

Michael couldn’t help chuckling. “Fickle little thing, aren’t you?” he said as he reached for her. “You’re going to grow up and break some man’s heart.”

“She won’t be dating until she’s at least thirty,” Ryan said emphatically.

“Good plan. I can hardly wait to see how well you stick to it,” Michael said. “Especially since this one obviously has a mind of her own already.”

“Don’t laugh. You might be called on to help me chase off the boys,” his brother informed him.

Michael looked at the little angel who was now snuggled against him, half-asleep. “Just say the word,” he said solemnly.

“That reminds me,” Ryan said, taking a slip of paper from his pocket and handing it to Michael.

“What’s this?”

“Maggie’s list of therapists. She reminded me just now to be sure and give it to you.”

Michael’s gaze narrowed. “And the connection to your daughter’s social life would be?”

“If you’re going to help me protect Caitlyn from hormone-driven teenaged boys, you’re going to have to be in top form,” Ryan said. “You might as well pick one and call. If you don’t, Maggie will.”

Michael glanced toward the kitchen where his sister-in-law was busily arranging his groceries and dishes so things would be within reach. He took the list and stuffed it in his pocket without comment.

It was only later, after Ryan, Maggie and Caitlyn had gone, that he took out the paper and glanced at the names. One jumped out at him: Kelly Andrews.

Years ago his best friend, Bryan Andrews, had had a sister named Kelly. Was it possible that this was the same girl? He remembered her as being a cute, shy kid, but by now she would have to be, what? Twenty-four most likely.

Michael had lost touch with Bryan years ago. Maybe he’d track him down and ask if his sister was a physical therapist. Purely as a matter of curiosity. He had no intention of asking some therapist to waste her time on him, not when every doctor he’d seen had said that a full recovery was impossible.

And, he thought with self-derision, anything less meant he might as well be dead.

* * *

Kelly Andrews was as nervous as if she’d never worked with a patient before. She stood outside the small cluster of apartments in the freezing cold and tried to gather her courage. No matter how many times she told herself that Michael Devaney was a potential client, nothing more, she couldn’t help the rush of emotions that filled her.

Michael had been her first teenage crush. Three years older than she was, he and her brother had been friends throughout high school. Michael had never given her so much as a second glance, not as anything more than Bryan’s kid sister, anyway. That hadn’t stopped her from weaving her share of fantasies about the quiet, dark-haired boy with the intense, brooding gaze and a body that even at seventeen had been impressively well muscled.

It was Bryan who’d told her about Michael being shot and the doctors’ very real conviction that he would never walk, much less work as a SEAL, again. Bryan had come back from his visit with Michael sounding worried that his old friend was going to give up. That concern had communicated itself to Kelly.

“His brothers went out to San Diego and convinced him to come back here to recuperate,” Bryan had explained two nights before. “I spoke to Ryan after I saw Michael. He says his brother is going to be needing a lot of physical therapy, but so far Michael has flatly refused to ask anyone for help. He did ask about you, though.”

Kelly’s heart had taken an unsteady leap. “He did?”

“Apparently your name was on a list Ryan’s wife made of prospective therapists.” Bryan had regarded her with a knowing look. “You interested? I know how you love a challenge. I also know you always had a thing for Michael.”

“I did not,” she said, though the flush in her cheeks was probably a dead giveaway that she was lying.

As desperately as she wanted to be the one to be there for Michael now, she had hesitated. “From what you say, it’s going to be a long, difficult process. He’s going to need someone he trusts. Do you think he’ll pay any attention to me? In his mind, I’m probably still your kid sister.”

Bryan had grinned. “Sis, you forget, I’ve seen you in action at the clinic when I’ve come by to pick you up. You’re hard to ignore. So, should I tell his brother you’ll take the job, and that you won’t let Michael’s lousy, uncooperative mood scare you off?”

“Hold it. Back up a minute. You said that before—something about brothers. I thought there were only girls in his family.”

“The Havilceks only had girls, but Michael was a foster kid.”

“Of course. I knew that,” Kelly said, suddenly remembering. “At least, I knew he had a different last name. I guess I never really gave much thought to it, because he didn’t seem to. So, these brothers are his biological brothers?”

Bryan had nodded. “He hadn’t seen them in years till they turned up in San Diego.”

“That must have been a shock.”

“It was. They were separated when his parents bailed on all of them. Michael was only four. He barely remembered them.”

She’d stared at her brother with surprise. “Is this something you just found out, or did you know it when we were kids?”

He shook his head. “I knew he was a foster kid. But back then, Michael never talked about how he’d wound up with the Havilceks. Every time I started to ask about his real family, he told me the Havilceks were his real family, the only one that counted.”

The story explained a lot...and added to her fascination with Michael Devaney, a fascination she was going to have to ignore if she was going to do her job the way it needed to be done.

“I’m scheduled at the clinic tomorrow, but tell Ryan I’ll go by to see Michael the day after tomorrow,” she had told her brother. “Whether I stay, though, is going to have to be up to Michael. I can’t force him to do therapy if he’s not willing.”

Bryan had grinned at her. “Since when? I thought you specialized in difficult, uncooperative patients.”

She did, but none of them were Michael Devaney, who’d always left her tongue-tied.

Since that conversation with her brother, she’d had more than twenty-four hours to prepare herself for this meeting, but she was as jittery as if it were the first case she’d ever handled. Today she was only doing an evaluation, working up a therapy schedule and making sure that Michael was going to be comfortable having Bryan’s kid sister as his therapist. She was counting on a brisk, polite half-hour visit.

She was not counting on the crash of something against the door when she rang the bell. Nor on the bellow telling her to go the hell away.

Oddly enough, the tantrum steadied her nerves and stiffened her resolve. She had a key in her pocket, passed along to her by Bryan, but when she tested the door, she found it was unlocked. Michael might be furious at the universe, he might be testing her courage, but he wasn’t really trying to keep her out, or that door would have been locked tight with the security chain in place.

She plastered a smile on her face, squared her shoulders and called out a cheery greeting as she stepped across the threshold. From his wheelchair across the room, Michael glared at her, but he lowered the vase of flowers he had apparently been intent on heaving in her direction.

“Having a bad morning?” she inquired politely, ignoring the shock that seeing him had on her system. Incapacitated or not, he was still the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.

“Having a bad life,” he snapped back. “If you’re smart, you’ll turn tail and run.”

She grinned, which only seemed to infuriate him more.

“I’m serious, dammit.”

“I’m sure you are, but you don’t scare me,” she said with pure bravado. In truth, what really terrified her was the possibility that he’d force her to leave when he so clearly needed someone with her skills to get him out of that chair and back on his feet.

His scowl deepened. “Why not? I’ve scared off everybody else.”

“How? Have you been waving a gun around?”

“Not likely. I believe they’ve all been removed from the premises,” he said bitterly.

“Good. Then that’s one less thing I need to worry about,” she said. “Mind if I sit down?”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

She crossed the room, paused in front of his wheelchair and held out her hand. “It’s good to see you again, Michael. You look great.” And he did. Despite the exhaustion evident in his eyes, despite his unshaven cheeks, he looked exactly the way she’d remembered him—strong and invincible and sexy as sin. Not even his being in a wheelchair could change that.

For a minute he seemed totally taken aback by her comment, but eventually he clasped her hand in his. To her very deep regret, the contact sent a shock straight through her. She’d been hoping she was past being affected by him, that a girl’s crush wouldn’t inevitably mean that there would be a woman’s attraction. It would make the next few weeks or months a lot easier on both of them if she wasn’t fighting unreciprocated feelings of attraction.

“You look good, too,” he muttered, as if he wasn’t all that comfortable with polite chitchat. That much at least hadn’t changed. Michael never had been much for small talk. He’d always been direct to the point of bluntness.

“I’m sorry you were hurt,” she said.

“Not half as sorry as I am.”

“Probably not. So let’s see what we can do about getting you back on your feet.”

His already grim expression turned to a glower. “Look, the doctors have already told me that I’ll never work as a SEAL again, so let’s not waste your time or mine.”

“And that’s the only profession out there for a man with a sharp mind?” she asked.

“It’s the only one I care about.”

She decided not to waste her breath trying to bully him out of such a ridiculously hardheaded, self-defeating stance. “Okay, then, if you’re not motivated to walk again so you can get back to work, what about so you can do a few simple things like going for a walk in the park or maybe going out to get your own groceries? The way I remember it, you’re an independent guy. Are you going to be content letting other people manage your life for you?”

He patted the wheelchair. “With a little more practice, I’ll be able to get around well enough in this.”

Now it was her turn to frown. “And you’re ready to accept that?”

“It’s not as if I have a real choice. The doctors said—”

She cut him off. “Oh, what do they know?” she asked impatiently. “The Michael I remember would take that as a challenge. Why not prove them wrong?” She looked him straight in the eye. “Or do you have something better you’d like to be doing?”

“I keep busy.”

Kelly eyed the computer across the room. A bingo game was on the screen. “I imagine you can earn pocket change playing bingo, but I also imagine you’ll be bored to tears in a couple of weeks.” She shrugged. “Still, it’s your choice. I certainly can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Damn straight,” he muttered.

She bit back a smile at the display of defiance. “So, Michael, what’s it going to be? Do I go or stay?”

Once again, she’d obviously taken him by surprise by leaving the decision entirely up to him. He blinked hard, then sighed. “Stay if you want to,” he said grudgingly.

She grinned at him. “Okay, then, let’s do this my way,” she said. “Here’s what I’m thinking.” She laid out the exercises and the rigorous schedule she’d already devised based on the medical information his brother had shared with her. “What do you think?”

“Do you have a masochistic streak I missed when you were a kid?” he grumbled.

Kelly grinned. “No, but I have what it takes to get you out of that chair.”

For the first time since she’d arrived, he actually looked her directly in the eye, then slowly nodded. “You may have, at that.”

“Then that’s all that really matters, isn’t it? I’ll see you first thing tomorrow. Be ready to work your butt off, Devaney.”

He chuckled. “You’re tougher than you used to be, Kelly.”

“You’d better believe it,” she said. “And I don’t have a lot of use for self-pity, so get over it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a salute.

She gave a nod of satisfaction. “It’s always helpful when the client realizes right off who’s in charge. Therapy goes much more smoothly.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

“Not to worry. I’ll make sure of it,” she said, winking at him as she closed the door behind her.

She paused outside and leaned against the wall, unsuccessfully fighting the tears she hadn’t allowed herself to shed in front of him. She’d put on a damn good show for him, but she’d been shaken. What if she couldn’t do what she’d promised? What if she couldn’t get him out of that wheelchair and back on his feet?

“Stop it,” she muttered. Failure was not an option, not with Michael.

As for getting personally involved with a client, that wasn’t an option, either, but she had a horrible feeling it was already too late to stop it.


2

“So, how did you and Kelly get along?” Bryan Andrews asked Michael when he stopped by for a beer at the end of the day.

Michael studied his one-time best friend with a narrowed gaze. He still wasn’t sure how much he appreciated Bryan’s unequivocal recommendation of Kelly for the job as his therapist. “Did she do a tour in the marines I don’t know about?”

“Nope.”

“I remember her as a sweet kid. She’s changed.” And that was a massive understatement that didn’t even take into account the pale gold hair swept up in a knot that revealed the long, delicate line of her neck, the silky complexion and the woman’s body with all the appropriate curves.

“She deals with a lot of cantankerous patients at the rehab clinic. She’s had to change,” Bryan said. He gave Michael a warning look. “Give her any grief and you’ll have me to contend with, too.”

“Trust me, I don’t think she needs her protective big brother butting in,” Michael told him. “She could take me out in ten seconds flat.”

“Are you telling me there’s finally a woman who can get the upper hand with you?” Bryan taunted, clearly delighted. “And that it’s my baby sister?”

“Only because of my weakened condition,” Michael assured him.

“Good to know. Back in high school I used to envy the way you could take ’em or leave ’em. The rest of us were slaves to our hormones, but not you. There wasn’t a girl in school who could twist you in knots.”

That seemed like a lifetime ago to Michael. He’d had a purpose then, and he’d known that a teenage romance would only get in the way. “I was focused on what I wanted to do with my future. I didn’t have time to get serious about any girl.”

“That doesn’t mean you couldn’t have had any one you wanted,” Bryan said. “It was great hanging out with you. The girls swarmed around you, and I ended up dating them.”

Michael gave him a wry look. “I hope you’re not counting on that happening now. I doubt any woman will give me a second look while I’m in this chair.”

“If you ask me, that alone is a great reason to get out of it,” Bryan said. “Stick with Kelly. She’ll have you whipped into shape in no time.” His expression sobered. “Seriously, pal, she’s good. Cooperate with her. Let her do her thing. If anyone can help you, she can.”

“Stop trying to sell her. She has the job. And it’s not as if she’s going to give me much choice about cooperating,” Michael retorted, able to laugh for the first time in weeks as he thought of the way Kelly had held her own in the face of his display of temper.

Even as the unfamiliar sound of his laughter filled his cramped apartment, he realized that Kelly Andrews had brought two things into his life during her one brief visit—a breath of fresh air and, far more important, the first faint ray of hope he’d felt since his SEAL team had dragged him out of harm’s way.

He immediately brought himself up short. He had been in some tricky, dangerous situations over the years, but nothing had ever scared him quite so badly as the sudden realization, that well-intentioned or not, Kelly might be holding out false hope.

Fear crawled up the back of his throat until he could almost taste it. If he tried to walk and failed, it might be far more devastating than never having tried at all. In the real world, how many miracles was one man entitled to? He’d gotten out of his last mission alive. Maybe that was his quota of good luck for one lifetime.

He looked up and saw that Bryan was regarding him with concern.

“You okay?” Bryan asked.

“Just reminding myself of something,” he said grimly.

“Judging from that expression on your face, it wasn’t anything good.”

Michael shrugged. He wasn’t about to tell Kelly’s brother that he’d been reminding himself that she was a mere woman, not a miracle worker. It was a distinction he couldn’t allow himself to forget, not for one single second.

* * *

“Are you sure you ought to be taking on this particular client?” Moira Brady asked Kelly, her expression filled with concern.

“I’m a professional. I can keep my feelings under control,” Kelly insisted. “Besides, it’s been years since I had my crush on Michael Devaney. I was a kid.”

Moira regarded her skeptically. “Then you had absolutely no reaction to seeing him again? He was just a patient, someone you happened to know from years ago?”

“Absolutely.”

“Liar.”

Kelly frowned at her best friend, who also ran the rehabilitation clinic where Kelly worked part-time on days when she didn’t have private patients scheduled. “I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal about this, Moira.”

“Because I don’t want to see you get hurt,” Moira said bluntly. “You always give your patients a hundred and ten percent, Kelly. You care about their progress. You feel guilty if they don’t achieve the results you’ve been anticipating.”

“Well, of course I do. Are you saying I shouldn’t?”

“No, but add in your personal history with Michael Devaney, and I see a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Oh, please,” Kelly said derisively. “Michael and I don’t have a personal history.”

“But you fantasized about one,” Moira countered. “I know that because you told me about him in glowing detail way back when we first met in college. He’d been gone for three years by then, but you hadn’t forgotten the least little thing about him. Can you honestly tell me that there wasn’t one teeny-tiny spark when you walked into his apartment yesterday?”

A spark? More like a bonfire, Kelly thought wryly. Not that she intended to admit it. “No spark,” she said flatly.

Moira’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Okay, is this one of those semantics things? What if I asked about fireworks? Would you admit to that?”

Kelly sighed. “It doesn’t matter. Michael Devaney doesn’t think of me in that way. I’m his friend’s kid sister.”

“Think he’ll remember that when you’re massaging his muscles?”

Kelly felt the heat climbing into her cheeks. She’d been wondering about that very thing herself. Anticipating it. She’d been itching to get her hands on those taut muscles of Michael’s for years. Now she had the perfect excuse. She swallowed hard and banished the totally unprofessional thought.

Scowling, she reminded both of them, “I’m a professional, dammit!”

“Yeah, sure,” Moira said. “You keep telling yourself that. And just in case you forget it, I’ll mention it to you every chance I get.”

* * *

Michael couldn’t seem to get his pants on. Lately he’d taken to wearing sweatpants because they were easy and comfortable and warm, but he’d gotten it into his head to put on a pair of jeans for this first session with Kelly. His bum leg wasn’t cooperating.

He had the pants half on and half off when the doorbell rang. Scowling, he gave one more forceful yank on the jeans and barely managed to stifle a howl of agony. Or at least he thought he had, until he looked straight up into Kelly’s worried gray eyes. Her cheeks were flushed and she was still wearing a bright pink ski jacket over a sweater that looked so soft he immediately wanted to stroke his hand over the material...and the woman under it.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Aside from having an uninvited guest appear in my bedroom, I’m just peachy,” he growled.

Her chin shot up and fire blazed in her eyes. “Not uninvited. I’m here for our appointment, and I’m not even a minute early. I only came in because you didn’t answer the door and I thought I heard you cry out.”

“I didn’t answer the door because I wasn’t dressed,” he retorted. “How the hell did you get in, anyway?”

“Your brother gave me a key,” she said. “And since you’re obviously okay, I’ll head on into the living room and get set up. You might as well strip out of those pants before you join me.”

The suggestion probably couldn’t have been more innocent, but something that felt a whole lot like desire slammed straight through him. “I beg your pardon?”

Kelly gestured toward his jeans. “The pants. Lose them. I’m going to start with a massage to loosen up those tight muscles.”

Michael swallowed hard. She intended to put her hands all over him? He frowned at her. “Did we talk about that when you were here yesterday?”

“I’m sure it came up,” she said briskly. “Five minutes, okay? I have another client in an hour, so there’s no time to waste.”

Michael stared after her as she left his room. They most definitely had not talked about this. He would never have agreed to letting her put her soft as silk hands on his body. He might be injured, but he wasn’t dead. One touch and he suspected this could go from a therapy session to something else entirely. It had been too blasted long since he’d felt a woman’s hands on his bare skin. His best friend’s baby sister was not the woman who should be testing his willpower.

Still wearing his jeans—zipped up and securely in place now—he wheeled himself into the living room. “We need to rethink this,” he said tightly. “It’s not going to work out.”

She leveled a look straight at him. “Oh? Why is that?”

“I don’t think you ought to be touching me.”

He could almost swear that her lips twitched at that, but she managed to cling to a perfectly serious expression.

Hands shoved into the pockets of her own snug-fitting jeans, she inquired curiously, “I don’t make you nervous, do I?”

“Of course you make me nervous,” he retorted. “What man wouldn’t be nervous when an attractive woman he barely knows suddenly announces that she’s going to be massaging him?”

“You’ve known me since I was fourteen,” she reminded him. “And it’s therapy, not seduction.”

“Tell that to my body,” he mumbled under his breath, very aware that the conversation alone was having an extremely interesting effect on certain parts of his anatomy. This was Kelly, dammit. What was wrong with him? Bryan would mop the floor with him—and rightly so—if he heard about Michael’s reaction to his sister.

“What was that?” she inquired, her expression all innocence.

“Nothing.”

“Come on, Michael. You were a SEAL. The way I hear it, they’re the bravest of the brave. Are you actually going to fire me before we even get started, just because I’m going to massage you? What would your buddies think of that?”

The challenge hung in the air. The woman was good. Really good. She knew exactly how to play him. He scowled at her. “If I had half a brain, I would.”

She did grin then. “Is that a yes or a no?”

Michael considered his options. He could fire her right now and hire somebody else—preferably some ox of a man—or he could try getting through at least one treatment before calling it quits. He owed Kelly for one session anyway, and something told him she wouldn’t take a cent if he didn’t let her do her job. He weighed fairness against self-preservation, and opted for fairness.

“We’ll see how it goes today,” he said finally.

She gave the slightest little nod of satisfaction. “Okay, then, let me help you out of those pants.”

One fierce look from him stopped her in her tracks. “Or you can get them yourself,” she said.

Wincing at the shooting pain that accompanied every movement, Michael finally managed to shed the pants and heave himself onto her portable massage table. At least he was on his stomach, so he wouldn’t have to see her face when she saw the jagged scars from the surgery. He didn’t miss her sharp intake of breath, though.

He felt a soft splash of warm oil on his injured leg, then the skimming touch of her hands as she smoothed it down the back of his thigh and over his calf. Her touch was gentle rather than provocative, but that didn’t stop the sudden shock of awareness that flowed through him. Michael forced his mind to detach itself from her actions and concentrate on counting backward from a thousand. It was a tactic that had served him well in other situations involving slow torture.

“Am I hurting you?” she asked.

The simple question dragged her from the periphery of his consciousness right back into his head. “No,” he said tersely, trying to mentally haul himself back to that nice, safe place.

For a few moments, blessed silence fell. Michael made it all the way down to nine hundred and two before she spoke again.

“What happened?” she asked.

He resigned himself to staying in the disconcerting moment. “When?”

“When you were hurt.”

“I walked into a trap,” he said, still filled with self-loathing at the stupidity of it. He should have known what was going on. He should never have trusted the intelligence report that the caves had been cleared of terrorists. He’d always relied on his own surveillance, his own instincts, but this one time he’d gotten anxious, a little careless. It was a bitter lesson that would have served him well in the future...if only he had one.

“Where were you?”

Too many years of keeping silent about his work kept him cautious even now. “I can’t say.”

“But you were a Navy SEAL, right? So I can assume that this had something to do with the war on terrorism?”

“You can assume anything you want to assume.”

Her fingers began to massage a little deeper, working muscles too long unused. Knots of tension in his legs seemed to ease, at least as long as she didn’t venture too close to the scars. That area was still amazingly tender. He yelped the first time she touched the bullet’s exit wound on the back of his thigh.

“Sorry.”

“I’ll survive.”

“I’m sure of that,” she agreed. “But I’ll be more careful around the scars. I can’t ignore them, though, because that skin’s going to need to be stretched.”

“Whatever you say.”

She patted his leg. “That’s it for today, then.”

He glanced up and regarded her with surprise. “You’re finished?”

“It’s been nearly an hour, and I have another appointment across town.”

“At this rate, we’re not going to make much progress,” he said, suddenly disgruntled by the too-quick end of the session and the complete lack of anything remotely like measurable improvement. “I thought you were going to work my butt off, or am I misquoting you?”

“Nope, that’s what I said, and that day will come. I’ve got you scheduled for two hours, day after tomorrow. We’ll start the exercises then.” She met his gaze. “That is, if I passed today’s probation.”

He ought to tell her to get the hell out and stay away, but he couldn’t seem to make himself do it. He was too afraid of the disappointment or disdain he’d see in her eyes. Either one would make him feel like a jerk. Besides, a part of him couldn’t help clinging to the possibility that she was his best hope for getting back on his feet again.

He met her gaze. Now that he was willing to give therapy a try, he wanted to see progress. He wasn’t scared of a little pain or hard work. In fact, he looked forward to it. “Make it three hours, day after tomorrow.”

“You’re not ready for three hours,” she said flatly.

He scowled at her reaction. “Let me be the judge of what I can handle. I’ve gone through training so rigorous, it would make your therapy seem like child’s play.”

“Have you done it since having several bones shattered, to say nothing of going through—what was it—three surgeries?” she inquired tartly.

The woman was tough as nails. It was a trait he couldn’t help admiring. “Okay, you made your point. Two hours, but if I’m up to it, we’ll go to three the next time,” he bargained. “Is it a deal?”

Kelly looked for a moment as if she might argue. Finally she held out her hand. “Deal.”

Michael took her hand in his and instantly regretted it. It had taken every ounce of willpower he possessed to ignore the way her hands had moved over his body earlier. Now, with something as simple as a handshake, he was once more thoroughly aware of her as a desirable woman.

Her skin was amazingly soft, her grip strong. A faint hint of the aromatic oil she’d used for the massage lingered in the air. It wasn’t the least bit feminine-quite the opposite, in fact—but it suddenly turned erotic. If he’d been another kind of man in a different situation, he would have brought her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. Instead, he released her hand as if he’d been burned.

A faint flicker of surprise flashed across her face, followed almost instantly by understanding. To his disgust she’d apparently guessed that for one brief second he’d let himself cross some sort of line.

“Is there anything I can do for you before I go?” she asked.

A thousand and one wicked possibilities slammed through him. “Not a thing,” he said tightly.

“Are you sure?”

“I thought you were in a hurry.”

“I can spare five minutes,” she said, regarding him with amusement. “I could fix you some breakfast if you haven’t had any.”

Forget breakfast, and five minutes wouldn’t be nearly long enough to act on a single one of those wicked possibilities, Michael thought wryly. He wondered what she would do, though, if he suggested, say, a kiss.

It wasn’t propriety or the thought of Bryan pounding him to a pulp that stopped him. It was the very distinct likelihood that it would backfire on him. If he was already having totally inappropriate thoughts about Kelly after one very brief therapy session, a kiss could very well send him over the edge. He might start obsessing about the way she’d feel in his arms. He might forget all about the reason she was there...to help him get back on his feet, not to help him prove he was still first and foremost a man.

Michael sighed heavily, determined to ignore the tantalizing sparks sizzling in the air. “I’ll see you day after tomorrow.”

She almost looked disappointed. “Whatever you say.”

To keep himself from doing anything foolish, he deliberately turned his wheelchair in the direction of the kitchen, putting his back to her. “Lock the door on your way out,” he said.

He expected to hear the door open and close, the lock click into place. Instead, there was nothing, not even a whisper of movement.

“What are you going to do with the rest of your day?” she asked finally.

“Planning my activities is not part of your job,” he retorted more sharply than necessary.

“I was asking, not planning,” she responded, evidently undaunted by his tone. “I hate to think of you being shut away in here all alone.”

“You might not think my company has much to recommend it,” he said. “But I’m content with it.”

“Have you called the Havilceks and told them you’re back? Have you even told them what happened to you?”

Back still to Kelly, Michael frowned at the question. He’d made one call to them from San Diego to let them know he’d been injured, but that he was recuperating. To his astonishment, Mrs. Havilcek had wanted to fly out right away, but he’d explained about Ryan and Sean being there.

“Oh, Michael, that’s wonderful,” she’d said with what sounded like total sincerity. “I won’t come now, then, but you call me if you need me. I can be there the next day.”

The memory of that promise had been enough to warm him whenever loneliness had crept in after Ryan and Sean had headed back East. It was enough to know that Mrs. Havilcek would come if called, and amazing to think that after all the years she’d cared for and loved him, that he’d even doubted for a minute that she would.

“Have you gotten in touch with them?” Kelly prodded.

“Not since I got to Boston,” he admitted.

She regarded him incredulously. “Why on earth not?”

He wasn’t sure he could explain it. He loved his foster family. The Havilceks had been great parents to him. And he couldn’t have been any closer to the girls if they had been his real big sisters. But when Ryan and Sean had turned up, he’d felt almost disloyal to the Havilceks, as if having feelings for his biological brothers was some sort of betrayal of all his foster family had done for him. He was still wrestling with how to handle keeping all of them in their rightful place in his life, a life that had changed dramatically since he’d last seen them.

“I’ll call them,” he told Kelly, “once things are a little more settled.”

“You mean after you’re back on your feet? Don’t you want them to see you when you’re not a hundred percent? Do you think they’d care about that?” she demanded indignantly.

He found the suggestion that he was acting out of misplaced pride vaguely insulting. “No, of course not. It’s not about that at all.”

“What then?”

He regarded her with a wry expression. “You know, Kelly, maybe there’s something we ought to get straight. You’re here to help me walk again. Leave the rest of my life to me.”

“I would, if you weren’t so obviously dead set on wasting it,” she shot back. “But that’s okay. I’ll drop it for now.”

“For good,” he countered.

She flashed him a brilliant smile. “Sorry. I can’t promise that.”

Before he could threaten to fire her if she insisted on meddling in things that were none of her concern, she was out the door. The lock clicked softly into place, just as he’d requested.

Michael should have felt relieved to have her gone, relieved to be alone with hours stretching out ahead of him to do whatever struck his fancy, at least given the limits of his mobility.

Instead, all he felt was regret.


3

If Michael had been anticipating a lonely, boring day to himself after Kelly’s departure, he should have known better. Despite his admonition to Ryan that he was to be no one’s project, his brothers and sisters-in-law were apparently determined that he not have a single minute to himself to sit and brood. In fact, by the end of the day he wouldn’t have been surprised to discover a schedule of their assigned comings and goings posted outside his door.

Maggie was first on the scene, with Caitlyn in tow. His niece came in dragging a purple suitcase on wheels, which he discovered was filled with her favorite picture books and a doll that was apparently capable of saying all the words Caitlyn had yet to master. She shoved the doll in his arms, then climbed up beside him on the sofa, put a book in his lap and regarded him expectantly.

“She wants you to read to her,” Maggie said, as if that hadn’t been perfectly obvious, even to a novice uncle like him.

Michael studied the thick board book with its brightly colored pictures, started to flip it open to the first page, only to have Caitlyn very firmly turn it back to the cover and point emphatically. He gathered he was supposed to begin with the title.

“The Runaway Bunny,” he began.

Caitlyn nodded happily, then snuggled closer.

Michael glanced in Maggie’s direction, caught her satisfied smile and gave in to the inevitable. He discovered that reading to a one-year-old might not involve complex plots, but it had its own rewards. Caitlyn was a very appreciative audience, clapping her little hands together with enthusiasm and giggling merrily.

Even so, after five books, he was more than ready for a break. He uttered a sigh of relief when Maggie announced that lunch was ready. He prayed it would be accompanied by a good stiff drink, but since he hadn’t found a drop of liquor in his cabinets after Maggie had stocked them, he wasn’t holding out much hope.

“Shall I bring lunch in there?” she asked.

“Nope. I’ll come to the kitchen,” he responded. He glanced at Caitlyn. “How about it? Want to hitch a ride with Uncle Mike?”

She nodded happily and held out her arms.

“Whoa, sweet pea. Let me get settled first.” He struggled into the wheelchair, then lifted her to his lap and wheeled into the kitchen, where Maggie was pointedly ignoring the fact that it had taken a much longer time for them to get there than it would have taken for her to bring the lunch into the living room to him and Caitlyn.

“How did your first therapy session go?” she asked as she served the thick sandwiches and potato salad she’d prepared.

“Why am I not surprised that you knew it was this morning?” he inquired dryly. “And why am I stunned that it took you this long to get around to asking about it?”

Maggie gave him an irrepressible smile. “I’m learning restraint.”

Michael laughed. “How’s it going?”

“Pretty well today, apparently.” Her expression sobered. “So, how did it go? You didn’t scare Kelly off, did you? She seemed like a nice young woman when she came by the pub to pick up a key to this place from Ryan.”

“About that,” he began, intending to explain that his key wasn’t to be handed out at random to anyone who asked or professed a need for a copy.

Maggie held up a silencing hand. “I know. I told Ryan he should have consulted with you first, but he was afraid she’d show up for the consultation and you wouldn’t let her in. He figured the key would assure that you’d see her at least once.” She met his gaze. “You can always ask her to give it back. Did you?”

“No,” he admitted, not entirely sure why he hadn’t. Maybe it was best not to examine his reasons.

Maggie seemed to be struggling with a grin. “I see. Then things have gone okay with Kelly?”

He was not about to admit that Kelly had actually left today before he was ready for her to go. Maggie would clearly make way too much of that, though whether she’d deduce it was enthusiasm for therapy or for the therapist was a toss-up.

“She’ll be back day after tomorrow,” he conceded grudgingly, and let it go at that.

“Terrific.”

He studied his sister-in-law intently. “So, Maggie, who has the afternoon shift?”

She regarded him blankly. “Excuse me?”

“Is Sean coming by to take over when you take the peanut here home for her nap? Or maybe his wife? Then, again, Deanna has already called in today, so maybe it’s Ryan’s turn.”

Color bloomed in Maggie’s cheeks.

Michael sighed. “I thought so. You all divvied up the assignment so I wouldn’t be alone for more than an hour or so at a time, didn’t you? I’m amazed nobody took the night shift, or is somebody that I don’t know about sitting in the hallway from midnight to seven in the morning?”

Maggie’s chin rose, eyes flashing. “Your brothers are concerned about you. It’s perfectly natural.”

“Where was that concern twenty years ago? Or even five years ago?” he demanded heatedly. “Hovering now won’t make up for all those years they didn’t do a damn thing to find me.”

Maggie regarded him in silence.

“No answer for that?” he pushed, even though he knew he was being totally unreasonable by taking years of pent-up anger out on her. “I didn’t think so.”

Before he could wheel himself away from the table, Maggie rested her hand on his. “They were hurt, too, you know.”

“Not by me, dammit!”

“No, of course not. But you were all kids,” she reminded him with gentle censure. “None of you could have been expected to fight the system to find your way back to the others.”

“We’ve all been adults for a long time now,” he retorted.

She regarded him with an unflinching stare. “Then I’ll ask you this—did you look for Ryan or Sean?”

Michael’s heart throbbed dully as he thought of how hard he’d worked to block out all memories of his big brothers. He’d substituted the loving Havilceks for his family. They would never have turned their backs on one of their kids, not even him, though he’d spent a lot of years with his heart in his throat expecting the worst.

“No,” he admitted, “but—”

“Can’t you let it be enough that your brothers are back in your life now? We’re family, Michael. It may be late, but let’s not waste any more time by tossing around a lot of useless recriminations.”

Gazing into his sister-in-law’s troubled green eyes, Michael fought off the desire to prolong the argument. Maggie was right. There was nothing to be gained by holding grudges, and maybe quite a lot to be gained by forgiveness.

“Okay, then,” he said at last. “I’ll work on putting aside the past, if you’ll do something for me in return.”

“Anything,” she agreed readily.

“Can the hovering,” he said bluntly. “I have to learn to do things for myself. And if there’s something I can’t manage, I’ll call and ask for help.”

She studied him skeptically. “You promise that you won’t shut us out completely?”

He grinned at that. “As if you’d let me. No, Maggie, I won’t shut any of you out. You’re welcome here anytime...just not all the time.”

She laughed. “Okay, I get it. I’ll speak to Ryan, Sean and Deanna.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Of course, that puts you in my debt, at least a little, doesn’t it?”

He eyed her warily. “A little, I suppose. Why?”

“Will you come to the pub on Friday night? There will be Irish music, and the special’s fish and chips. Ryan can come by to pick you up.”

Michael was surprised to find that the prospect held some appeal. “You’re a tough negotiator, Maggie Devaney.”

“I know,” she said with unmistakable pride. “I had to be to win your brother’s heart. You may find this hard to believe, but he was even less trusting than you are.”

“You’re right. I do find that hard to believe.”

“Well, it’s true.” She smiled at him. “Will you come?”

“I’ll come,” he agreed. “But I’ll get there on my own.”

She opened her mouth, but he cut her off before she could protest. “If I can’t manage it, I’ll call.”

“Fair enough, then. I’ll do these dishes and get out of your hair.”

Michael glanced at his niece and saw that she was nodding off in her booster seat at the table. “I think maybe you ought to get Caitlyn home for her nap, instead. I can clear things away in here.”

“But—”

He deliberately scowled at her. “Go, Maggie, before you undo all the warm and fuzzy feelings I’m developing toward you.”

She laughed at that, picked up her daughter, then bent and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad to have you as part of our family. You’ll get to meet the rest of the O’Briens on Friday night. You might want to brace yourself. My family can be a little overwhelming. Ryan and I have been married for nearly two years now, and they still make him nervous.”

“Now there’s a fine recommendation,” Michael responded dryly. “I’m really looking forward to Friday night, after that.”

“The music will compensate for the chaos. I promise.”

Michael believed her, which was a bit of a miracle in and of itself. Other than the men on his SEAL team, he’d long ago lost his faith in promises.

* * *

Kelly wasn’t sure what to expect when she arrived for her second therapy session with Michael. Even though during her last visit he’d agreed to continue with his rehabilitation, he wouldn’t be the first patient to have a change of heart between sessions, especially if he’d spent the intervening hours brooding.

She rang the bell at his apartment promptly at 10:00 a.m., then waited to see what sort of greeting she got. She counted it a positive sign when nothing crashed against the door. Nor were there any cries of pain from inside. So far, it was going better than either of her earlier visits.

When another full minute had passed, she rang the bell again. “Michael, it’s me. Is everything okay? Should I come on in?”

More silence. She frowned at the door. Had he bailed on her, after all? Or was he inside, simply ignoring her, hoping she would go away? She was about to put her key in the lock, when the front door of the building crashed open. Kelly whirled around and found herself staring straight into Michael’s very blue eyes.

“Sorry,” he said as he awkwardly tried to manipulate the chair into the foyer. “I had to go out. I thought I’d be back before you got here, but everything took longer than I expected.”

Kelly stared at him. “You went out?” she said blankly. Where? How? She resisted the urge to ask questions he would no doubt find intrusive, if not downright insulting.

“To the store,” he said, holding up two small plastic bags crammed with groceries. He looked astonishingly pleased with himself.

“How did you manage?” she asked. “Did you call a taxi?”

“Of course not. The store’s only a few blocks away.”

Her incredulity grew. “You went in your wheelchair?”

“I sure as hell didn’t walk,” he retorted, his good mood evaporating.

Kelly immediately felt guilty for spoiling his moment of triumph. “Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting it. It’s terrific that you were able to manage on your own.”

His scowl stayed firmly in place. “You’re not out of a job just yet, if that’s what’s worrying you.”

“No, of course not. You caught me off guard, that’s all.” She gestured toward the apartment. “And I was worried when you didn’t answer the door.”

“Well, I’m here now, and that clock of yours is no doubt ticking, so let’s get started.”

Filled with regret about the tension she’d managed to cause, she merely nodded and stepped aside. “Go on in. I’ll be right behind you.”

He wheeled past without comment. Kelly leaned against the wall for a second and drew in a deep breath. Why was it that she couldn’t manage to have one single encounter with this man without some sort of misunderstanding? She’d never had problems making herself clear before, but Michael managed to keep her off-kilter and tongue-tied. When she finally did speak, everything kept coming out wrong. Sure, he was understandably prickly, but she seemed to have a special knack for setting him off.

Determined not to let it happen again, she squared her shoulders and carried her equipment inside. While Michael was putting his groceries away, she got set up.

A few minutes later he came into the living room wearing a pair of boxers, a T-shirt and a frown. He gestured toward the massage table.

“Are we starting with that again?”

Kelly nodded.

He struggled awkwardly from the chair to the table, then stretched out facedown. Kelly put some of her aromatic oil on his injured leg and began to massage, trying to ignore the body heat the man put out. If she were ever stranded outdoors in a blizzard, Michael was definitely the man she’d want with her. He emitted heat like a blast furnace.

His muscles were also knotted with tension, probably due in part to her. She smoothed her hands over his powerful thigh and down the length of his calf until she finally felt the tension begin to ease.

The massage probably went on longer than necessary because she enjoyed touching him so much, enjoyed the fact that for once they weren’t at odds, enjoyed even more the soft sigh of pleasure that eased through him.

It was the sigh, though, that snapped her back to reality and reminded her that the massage was not about her enjoyment, or even his. It was therapy, a prelude to some of the stretching exercises she’d scheduled for today. Kelly had a feeling that one reason she’d put off getting to those was the knowledge that Michael was going to be indignant that she wasn’t assigning him anything more strenuous.

“Okay, that’s it,” she forced herself to say finally.

Michael sat up slowly and regarded her with confusion. “For the day? We’re finished?”

She smiled at his obvious dismay. “Not just yet. I have some stretching exercises for you to try. It’ll help with getting those torn muscles and ligaments back into shape.”

As she’d expected, he frowned.

“Stretching?” he asked disdainfully. “Come on, Kelly, can’t we move beyond that?”

She regarded him evenly. “You straighten that injured leg out and do ten leg lifts and we’ll reevaluate my plan.”

“Piece of cake,” he boasted.

“Okay, then, let’s see it,” she said, her arms folded across her chest as she stood back and waited.

She wasn’t the least bit surprised when he couldn’t get his leg to straighten completely. Nor when his first attempt to lift it in the air had sweat beading on his brow. He was wincing in obvious pain as he finally managed to raise the leg a scant three or four inches.

“Okay, you win,” he grumbled, scowling fiercely. “But nobody likes a know-it-all woman, you know.”

“I don’t need you to like me,” she said cheerfully. “I just need you to trust me.”

“Sweetheart, there are very few people on earth I trust,” he said bitterly. “I don’t know you well enough for you to make the cut.”

The comment tore straight through her, but she forced herself not to let it show. “Then maybe we need to do something to change that.”

His gaze narrowed. “Such as?”

“Spend some time together.”

Her response clearly startled him.

“You’re asking me out?” he inquired warily.

Kelly’s pulse skittered crazily at the idea, but she kept her tone even. “As if I’d date an ill-tempered old man like you,” she taunted.

He frowned at that. “I’m only three years older than you.”

She grinned. “I notice you didn’t try to argue with the ill-tempered part.”

He shrugged. “Didn’t see much point in it. When you’re right, you’re right. I’ll try to stop taking my bad moods out on you.”

“Thank you.”

“So, if you weren’t suggesting a date, what were you suggesting?”

“Just getting out in the world. It’ll give me a chance to evaluate your motor skills in a more realistic setting, and you can ask me whatever questions are on your mind.”

He regarded her doubtfully. “And you think that will build trust?”

“Couldn’t hurt,” she said.

“What do you think your brother will have to say about you and me going out?”

“Bryan doesn’t interfere in my work. For that matter, though, he’s welcome to come along.” Maybe her brother could smooth things over between them, keep her from saying the wrong thing, or at the very least, keep Michael from misinterpreting what she said and taking offense. “Is it a deal?”

He seemed to be struggling with the offer, weighing it from every angle to see if he could find a catch. Kelly could almost see the wheels in his head turning. She realized then that this whole trust business was a far larger issue than she’d first assumed. Obviously it had to do with his family background. How on earth could she be expected to overcome that kind of distrust in a few short therapy sessions?

She looked him in the eye. “Or would you prefer to start over with another therapist.”

“No,” he said at once.

She might have found the quick response flattering if she didn’t suspect it had more to do with his dread of wasting time searching for someone new than it did with her.

“Okay, then,” she said. “Pick a day and we’ll get together.”

“Friday,” he suggested finally. “I promised my sister-in-law today that I’d go to the pub Friday evening. Why don’t you and Bryan come along?”

Kelly nodded. “Sounds good. Want us to pick you up? You’re on our way.”

“Sure,” he said eventually, as if he’d wrestled with that decision, too.

She grinned at him. “You’re not sacrificing your independence, you know. You really are on our way.”

He gave her a self-deprecating grin that made Kelly’s heart flip over.

“I know,” he admitted. “That’s why I finally gave in. I’m stubborn. I’m not an idiot.”

She laughed then. “A distinction I’ll try to remember.”

His expression sobered. “So will I. I really am sorry for giving you such a rough time. It’s just that all this is so blasted frustrating.”

She patted his hand. “Compared to some people I’ve worked with, you’re downright sweet-natured.”

Michael winced at the description, just as she’d expected him to.

“Don’t worry,” she reassured him. “I won’t let it get around. I imagine you big, tough SEALs pride yourselves on being as cantankerous as they come.”

“You’d better believe it,” he agreed, his fierce expression belied by the twinkle in his eyes. After an instant, the sparkle dimmed. “Of course, ex-SEALs are another breed entirely.”

There was no mistaking the return of bitterness and despair in his tone. Kelly desperately wanted to make things better, but she wasn’t sure if she could find the right words. She made herself try, though.

“You know, Michael, it seems to me that in some ways it takes as much bravery to face a future all alone without the SEALs as it does to take on some dangerous, covert mission surrounded by an entire team of highly trained experts,” she told him.

“In other words, if I don’t get over myself and face this whole therapy thing head-on, I’m a coward?” he asked.

“Your words, not mine,” she said.

He sighed heavily. “Then maybe that’s exactly what I am,” he conceded, his expression bleak. “Because if I’m no longer a SEAL, then I don’t know who the hell I am.”

Kelly could have offered a whole string of platitudes that would have meant nothing at all to him, but she didn’t. Instead, she merely touched his shoulder. “But you’ll figure it out,” she said quietly.

“I wish I were as sure of that as you seem to be.”

“You’re a smart man, you’ll find your way,” she insisted. “Trust me.”

His gaze captured hers and held. “Which brings us full circle.”

She gathered up her things and headed for the door. “I’ll see you Friday night and we’ll work on it,” she said, because suddenly there was nothing on earth more important to her than gaining Michael Devaney’s trust...unless it was giving him back his faith in himself.


4

Bryan was staring at Kelly as if she’d suddenly grown two heads. “Tell me again how this came about?” he demanded, when she invited him to join her and Michael at Ryan’s Place on Friday night. “You asked Michael—your patient—out on a date? How many rules does that break?”

“None precisely,” Kelly retorted defensively. “And it’s not a date. Michael admits he has issues with trust. I find it’s impossible to do my job if my client doesn’t trust my judgment. I thought it might help if he got to know me better as someone other than your baby sister. Apparently he agrees, because he suggested going to Ryan’s Place on Friday night. Now do you want to come along or not?”

“Oh, I’m coming,” Bryan said, his expression grim. “If only to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. You seem to forget that I can read you like a book. It may be an issue of trust for Michael, but it’s a whole lot more for you.”

Kelly found her brother’s attitude extremely annoying, to say nothing of patronizing. “I am not going to try to seduce him, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said heatedly.

“What if he tries to seduce you? Will you take him up on it?” Bryan asked with the sort of bluntness he normally reserved for the patients he counseled in his psychology practice.

Much as she wanted to believe that Michael attempting to seduce her was a possibility, Kelly was a realist where Michael Devaney was concerned. He was not going to try to get her into bed, not Friday night, most likely not ever. More’s the pity.

She regarded her brother with a sour look. “I’ll let you know if the issue arises. Then, again, maybe I won’t. It’s not really any of your business.”

“How can you say that? Of course it is. I’m your brother, and I’m the one who talked you into taking this job.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Bryan, you didn’t talk me into anything. You mentioned it. I spoke with Ryan and then consulted with Michael. He and I were the ones who agreed to give it a try. At best, you gave me a lead on a job. You’ve done it a hundred times before without working yourself into a frenzy over the outcome.”

“But this was different.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re talking about Michael,” he replied with evident impatience. “I knew you’d jump at the chance to help him because you always had a thing for him.”

She kissed her brother’s cheek. “Too late for regrets now, worrywart. I’m a big girl. I can handle this.”

“You can handle Michael’s therapy,” he corrected. “I don’t have a doubt in the world about that. But this? This is social. Michael’s not thinking straight these days, and neither, apparently, are you. You’ll end up getting your heart broken.”

She frowned at him. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“You know what I mean. I thought for sure you’d be over your crush by now, but you aren’t, are you?”

“I was barely a teenager when you first brought Michael home. He was gorgeous. Naturally I was intrigued by him,” she said, ignoring the fact that none of those feelings had gone away. She was still very much attracted to Michael, something her big brother definitely didn’t need to have confirmed. Maybe it was time to turn the tables, put him on the hot seat. “Now let’s talk about your love life—or should I say your lack of one.”

His scowl deepened. “Nothing to discuss,” he said tightly.

“Oh, really? Then that fling with what’s-her-name is really over?” she pressed, in part because she knew of someone else who was ready and willing to take on Bryan, if he’d finally wised up.

“It wasn’t a fling,” he said defensively. “And you know her name. It’s Debra.”

“Short for dim-witted,” Kelly muttered. “You know, for an intelligent man who has a degree in psychology, you have exceptionally lousy taste in women.”

“Thank you for sharing your opinion,” her brother retorted. “Next time you feel so inclined, bite your tongue.”

She grinned at him. “Advice you should consider following when it comes to Friday night.”

Bryan sighed heavily, picked up his jacket and headed out without saying another word.

Now it was Kelly’s turn to sigh. She should have kept her mouth shut about Friday, because if she knew her brother at all—and she did—he was on his way straight to Michael’s, probably to warn him to behave or get his teeth knocked down his throat.

Kelly considered calling Michael to warn him, but why bother? Bryan was a great guy, but he definitely leaned more toward intellectual pursuits than physical prowess. Michael could probably use a good laugh. He might be in a wheelchair, but she had a feeling he could still take her brother in a fight. Maybe it would do both of them good for Michael to remember that.

* * *

Michael was watching the Celtics game on TV and cursing the fact that there wasn’t a beer in the place, when the doorbell rang. Since he’d all but banished his brothers from stopping by uninvited, he figured he shouldn’t just tell his visitor that the door was unlocked. He wheeled across the room and found Bryan on his doorstep, a scowl firmly in place and a six-pack in his hand.

“Talk about your mixed messages,” Michael said, moving aside to let his friend in.

Bryan stared at him blankly. “What?”

“Hey, you’re the psychologist,” Michael reminded him. “Shouldn’t you understand that arriving with a frown on your face and a peace offering in your hand could be a bit confusing?”

“Was I frowning? Sorry,” Bryan said, though the apology sounded halfhearted.

Michael studied him curiously. The Bryan he’d once known had always been upbeat, always able to put a positive spin on things. He could spot the silver linings on the cloudiest days. It was a trait that probably contributed to his skill as a psychologist. Clearly, something had to be weighing mighty heavily on him to put this scowl on his face.

“Something on your mind?” Michael probed cautiously.

“You could say that.”

“Why don’t you pour a couple of those beers and tell me all about it?” Michael suggested. Listening to somebody else’s problems for a change would be good for him, he decided. It might make him forget his own.

While Bryan headed for the kitchen, Michael went back in the living room and muted the sound on the TV. He didn’t have to listen to the game, but he wasn’t going to skip it. Basketball was the one thing he’d missed when he was off in various godforsaken locations. Of course, he’d also missed playing it, but for now he’d have to settle for the vicarious thrills of watching a good game on TV.

Bryan returned, handed Michael his beer, then sank down on the sofa, still looking worried.

“Woman problems?” Michael asked.

“Not the way you mean. It’s Kelly.”

Now it was Michael’s turn to frown. “Has something happened to your sister? She was here this afternoon, and she seemed perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, well, since then, she’s apparently lost her mind.”

Michael stared at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“This whole cockamamy scheme that the two of you should spend time together,” Bryan explained. “Whose idea was it?”

“Hers,” Michael said at once, still not seeing why Bryan was making such a big deal out of it. “What’s wrong? It’s not as if we’re dating—though, frankly, it would be none of your business if we were.”

Bryan snorted. “Yeah, that’s what she said, too.”

“Well, then, what’s the problem?”

“I don’t like it, that’s the problem,” Bryan said, regarding him defiantly. “Therapy’s one thing. This—whatever this is—is something else entirely. Kelly’s no match for you. She’s been in Boston her whole life. She’s dated some, but the men were nothing like you.”

“Which makes her what? Naive? Stupid?”

Bryan’s scowl deepened. “Of course not.”

“Glad to know you’re smart enough to see that. But if Kelly’s not the problem, then I must be,” Michael concluded. “Do you figure I’m some sort of macho, sex-starved male who can’t keep his hormones in check?”

His friend flushed a dull red. “No, but you are experienced.”

Michael couldn’t deny that. “Maybe so, but I would never take advantage of your sister,” he said flatly. “After all the time we spent together, you ought to know me better than that.”

“I suppose, but it’s been a lot of years since you and I hung out, Michael. You could have changed,” Bryan said defensively.

“I haven’t,” Michael said, meeting his gaze evenly.

Bryan nodded slowly. “I’ll take your word, then, that you won’t take advantage of her.”

“Thank you.” He slanted a look at Bryan. “So, does she have any idea you’re over here warning me off?”

“Probably,” Bryan said.

Michael regarded him with amusement. “And you got out of the house in one piece? Amazing. You must be quicker than I remembered.”

“Very funny.”

“Look, I admire the fact that you care about what happens to your sister, but I swear to you that I’m not a threat. I’ll say it one more time—this whole pub visit is strictly professional. She thinks it will help the therapy if I can put my trust in her.”

Bryan rolled his eyes. “And you bought that hogwash?”

Something in his reaction sent a little chill of apprehension down Michael’s back. He regarded Bryan with a narrowed gaze. “You think she has another agenda?”

“She might not even be aware of it herself, but, yes, I think she has another agenda.” He leveled a warning look at Michael. “And so help me, if you take her up on it and break her heart, I’ll make you regret it.”

“Whoa!” Michael protested, reeling from the possibility that Bryan viewed his own sister as the one who couldn’t be entirely trusted to exercise good judgment. “It’s a long way from spending one evening in a pub with family to breaking your sister’s heart. Trust me, that is not a road I intend to go down.”

“As long as you’re clear on the consequences,” Bryan said flatly.

“Very clear. Are you clear on the fact that I’m not the least bit interested in getting involved with anyone these days? Fixing my own life is pretty much an all-consuming task.”

“Okay, then,” Bryan said, clearly relieved. “Now turn the sound up on the game, while I get us another beer.”

Michael stared after him as he left the room. Bryan’s little wake-up call hadn’t exactly scared him. He could handle an irate Bryan. But the memory of the way he’d felt when Kelly had her hands all over him gave him pause. He was suddenly far less confident about whether he could handle Kelly, if she really did have something other than therapy on her mind.

* * *

Michael was still feeling a little leery about Kelly’s intentions when they got to Ryan’s Place on Friday night. Fortunately, with nearly a dozen members of his own family and the O’Briens around, it was easy enough to put some distance between himself and Kelly.

When the boisterous crowd got to be too much for him, he made his way to the bar where Ryan was trying to keep up with the orders. Michael couldn’t hide his grin at how natural his big brother looked pouring ales and Irish whisky and joking with the customers.

“This place suits you,” he told Ryan, when his brother finally turned his attention to him.

“You like it, then?” Ryan asked.

“There’s a warm, comfortable feel to it I haven’t run across since a vacation in Ireland a few years back.”

“Then I’ve done it right,” Ryan said, obviously pleased. “And having you and Sean in here couldn’t make me happier. For a long time, I thought I could be content just to have this place with its crowd of regulars. Then Maggie came along and made me see what I was missing.” He nodded toward the crowd across the room. “The O’Briens are special. I didn’t trust all that love they shower on everyone at first, but it’s the real thing.”

Michael nodded. “I can see that. Not five seconds after we met, Nell O’Brien fussed over me as if I were one of her own brood.”

“You are now,” Ryan said simply. His expression turned thoughtful. “You know, if you wanted to invite your foster family here sometime, it would be fine with me. I’d like to get to know them. I never stayed with any of mine long enough to get attached. Sean had better luck, but he doesn’t see them much anymore. Of all of us, I think you’re the one who came closest to finding a real home.”

Michael tried to imagine the Havilceks here and, surprisingly, found that he could. “Maybe I will,” he said. “One of these days. I haven’t told them I’m back in Boston.”

Ryan regarded him with shock. “Why not?”

Michael tried out the same explanation he’d used on Kelly to see if it sounded any better now. “I wanted to sort things out for myself. My foster mom is great, but she’d take over and try to fix things.” He grinned. “The girls are no better. I had measles when I was maybe eight or nine and they just about nursed me into a mental institution with all their hovering. I couldn’t think straight. Even a cold was enough to bring out all their Florence Nightingale tendencies.” He tapped his still-useless leg. “Just imagine the frenzy they’d go into over this.”

“Would that be so awful?” Ryan asked, an unmistakable trace of envy in his voice.

Michael sighed. He’d learned only a little of what his big brother had gone through in foster care, but he knew their experiences were vastly different. He could understand why Ryan might not get how Michael would chafe under all that attention. “Trust me, it’s better this way. They’d be hurt if I refused to move in with one of them.”

“Will they be any less hurt when they find out you’ve been hiding out from them for months?”

“Not months,” Michael insisted. “Another week or two, just till I see if my prognosis improves at all.”

Ryan nodded. “Okay, then, I’ll back off for now.” He glanced across the room. “I was a little surprised to see Kelly and her brother with you tonight.”

Michael shook his head, thinking about how complicated this simple outing had turned out to be. “Kelly’s here because she thinks therapy will go more smoothly if I start to trust her.”

“And Bryan?”

“He’s here because he’s afraid I’m going to make a move on Kelly,” Michael admitted dryly.

Ryan barely contained a chuckle. “And do you intend to make a move on her? You could do a lot worse, you know.”

Michael turned and studied Kelly. She was a beautiful woman, no question about it. And there were definitely some sparks between them. Even so, he shook his head. “Too complicated.”

“Because you and Bryan are friends?”

“No, because she’s my best shot at getting out of this wheelchair. I don’t intend to do anything that might distract from that.”

Ryan’s gaze narrowed. “There are a lot of therapists in Boston, you know. Maggie’s still got her copy of that list she made. A new therapist could uncomplicate things.”

“I’ve made my peace with having Kelly underfoot. I don’t want to start over,” Michael said flatly.

“That might be a shortsighted view, especially if you’re attracted to her,” Ryan said, refusing to let the subject drop.

“I’m not,” Michael insisted.

A grin spread across Ryan’s face. “I hope you were more convincing when you tried that line out on her brother.”

Michael sighed. “Probably not.”

“Just make me a promise, then,” Ryan pleaded. “When you two decide to have it out, don’t do it in here, okay? The bar glass is expensive.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Michael glanced toward Kelly and saw that she was watching him. “Guess I’d better bite the bullet and get back over there. I’ve managed to stay out of Kelly’s path most of the evening, which pretty much defeats the avowed purpose of bringing her here.”

Ryan stepped out from behind the bar and blocked his path. “Look, I know you didn’t ask for any advice from your big brother, but I’m going to offer some just the same. Therapy might get you back on your feet, but it’s going to take more than that to heal your soul. If Kelly’s offering more, don’t be so quick to turn your back on it.”

“I suppose you gave in the very first second that Maggie came into your life,” Michael speculated.

Ryan laughed. “Hardly. I’m just trying to save you a little time. You can learn from my mistakes and give in to the inevitable.”

“There’s nothing inevitable about Kelly and me.”

“If you say so,” Ryan said doubtfully.

“I do,” Michael said very firmly.

Unfortunately, Ryan didn’t look as if he believed the denial any more than Michael did himself.

* * *

In terms of building a bridge between herself and Michael, the evening had been a bust so far, Kelly concluded as he rejoined the group who’d clustered around several tables in the middle of the pub. She noted he was careful to stay on the opposite side of the table from her.

Unfortunately for him, Bryan had just asked Katie O’Brien to dance, so the chair right next to Michael had just opened up. She made her way around the table.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she accused lightly as she took the vacant seat.

“Bryan’s orders,” he said just as lightly.

She laughed. “I probably ought to kill him.”

“You probably should.”

“Then, again, I’m surprised you scared off so easily.”

“A smart man knows to pick his battles and his enemies.”

Kelly regarded him with dismay. “Is that what I am, the enemy?”

He winced. “No, of course not. Neither is your brother. We’re just caught up in a complicated situation.”

“It doesn’t have to be all that complicated. I’m trying to get to know you. I’m not asking you to marry me or even to sleep with me.”

“Thank heavens for that,” he said fervently. “Your brother really would kill me, then.”

She decided to play it cool. “Only if you took me up on it,” she teased. “Would you?”

“Kelly.” Her name came out part warning, part plea.

“Yes?”

“You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“Only if you’re the least bit tempted,” she said.

“I’m a man,” he said, as if that said it all.

“So, of course, you’re not capable of resisting temptation?” she scoffed. “Please, Michael. Don’t try to make me believe you’d take advantage of the situation, if I happened to throw myself at you.”

A dull flush crept into his cheeks. “We’re never going to know, because you are not going to do that. Are we clear?”

The direct order made her see red. Something dark and dangerous came to life inside her. Before he could make his demand again, she leaned forward, clamped a hand around the back of his neck and kissed him.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d only intended the gesture to be a belligerent response to his unreasonable order. Big mistake. No, huge mistake. Because the instant her lips met the hard line of his mouth, she felt as if the entire world was spinning out of control.

And when his mouth opened and his tongue thrust between her lips, she was completely lost to sensation...greedy, urgent sensation that made her pulse hum and her heart thump wildly. Liquid heat pooled low in her belly and desire made her want to cling and savor and taste. Only a low growl in Michael’s throat had her tearing herself away, her cheeks flushed, her breath coming in quick, unsteady gasps.

She rocked back in her chair and raked her fingers through her hair. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, embarrassment flooding through her. Only the dazed look in Michael’s eyes kept her from feeling like a complete fool.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice harsh. “Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have—”

She cut him off. “Shouldn’t have what?” she asked with self-derision. “Responded when I all but attacked you?”

He smiled faintly at that. “I dared you,” he pointed out.

“You did not,” she said, then thought about it. Maybe he hadn’t dared her in so many words, but the challenge in his voice was exactly what she’d responded to. She studied him in confusion. “Okay, maybe you did. Did you do it on purpose?”

He looked almost as bewildered as she felt. “I wish to hell I knew.”

Before they could explore it any further, her brother arrived, a glowering expression on his face. “I see that my warning was taken to heart by both of you.”

“Oh, stuff a sock in it,” Kelly retorted.

Bryan ignored her and looked at Michael. “What about you?” he demanded indignantly. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I think ‘stuff a sock in it’ pretty well sums up my view, as well.”

Bryan scowled from Michael to Kelly and back again. “Okay, then, I wash my hands of this. You two are on your own.”

“Fine by me,” Kelly retorted.

“I always have been,” Michael said, his expression already distant and withdrawn.

Bryan hesitated. He seemed as if he were about to relent, but then he whirled around and headed for the bar.

Kelly instinctively reached for Michael’s hands and held them tightly. “You are not on your own anymore. Look around you. You never have to be alone again.”

Michael surveyed the assembled Devaneys and O’Briens warily, as if he still didn’t quite trust what they were offering. In that instant, Kelly felt something deep inside herself shift. Years ago what she had felt for Michael Devaney had been a teenage crush on a handsome, mysterious boy. What she felt right now was so much more. She wasn’t quite ready to put a label on it, especially not one he would reject out of hand.

But if it took her a lifetime, she would find some way to wipe that bleak expression from his eyes and prove to him that he was a man worthy of being loved.


5

The memory of that soul-searing kiss kept Michael awake most of the night. It had taken him totally by surprise on so many levels, his mind was still reeling.

Even after Bryan’s warning, he hadn’t actually expected Kelly to make a move on him. A part of him still thought of her as Bryan’s kid sister. That she had impulsively and thoroughly out-of-the-blue locked lips with him had shocked him right down to his toes. That wasn’t some kid’s move. It was the act of a woman willing to take what she wanted.

That he had responded, that he had all but devoured her right there in the middle of his brother’s pub in front of a whole slew of witnesses—including her disapproving brother—had been almost as shocking. Maybe that head injury he’d dismissed had left his brain more addled than he’d realized.

He’d admitted to Kelly that part of the blame was his. He had—albeit unintentionally—pretty much challenged her to kiss him. What red-blooded, healthy, spirited woman wouldn’t have reacted exactly as Kelly had? That didn’t make it right. It certainly didn’t make it smart. And it most definitely didn’t make it something that could be allowed to happen again.

Unfortunately, short of firing her, he wasn’t entirely clear on how he was going to guarantee that there wouldn’t be a repeat, especially now that they both knew exactly the kind of fireworks they’d be avoiding. Most men—and even a few women—would not willingly turn their backs on that kind of instantaneous combustion, no matter how dangerous.

Michael muttered a sharp oath under his breath. Why hadn’t he seen that kiss coming? He could have deflected it, laughed off the incident and gotten a decent night’s sleep. Instead, he’d tossed and turned, his body half-aroused by lingering memories of the way Kelly’s mouth had felt on his. Here it was nearly eight in the morning and he was as stirred up as he had been within seconds after she’d dragged her lips away from his. Worst of all, there wasn’t even enough time for him to haul himself into an ice-cold shower before Kelly arrived for their Saturday morning session.

Well, there was only one thing to do, he finally concluded. He had to face the whole situation squarely and give Kelly the option of quitting or sticking around under a stringent set of hands-off guidelines.

There was just one tiny little flaw in that plan. Massages were part of the therapy. He’d discovered already that there were a dozen different reasons why it was necessary for her to touch him. Trying to ban all contact between them was pretty much self-defeating in terms of his recovery. Not banning it was dangerous for entirely different reasons.

Michael thought of the thousand and one dangerous situations in which he’d found himself during his years as a SEAL. How could he possibly let one sexy little therapist scare him out of doing what needed to be done? He couldn’t, not if he ever expected to look at himself in the mirror again.

Bring her on, he thought with renewed determination. Let her tempt him. He would be strong. He would resist. He would concentrate on the reason she was in his life...to make him whole again, to get him back on his feet. He would pretend she looked like a frog and had the skin of an alligator.

He choked on the image. Maybe he should forget about trying to deceive himself into thinking she wasn’t attractive and concentrate on developing the willpower of a saint.

* * *

“You did what?” Kelly’s boss at the rehab clinic asked incredulously when Kelly stopped by with coffee and blueberry muffins on her way to Michael’s on Saturday morning.

The coffee and treats were a Saturday ritual. The stunned expression on Moira’s face was a rarity. So was the hard look that followed. Kelly found herself wincing under that intense, disapproving scrutiny.

“Tell me again,” Moira commanded. “I can’t believe I heard you right the first time.”

“I kissed Michael,” Kelly repeated. “I flat out, on the lips, kissed him.” Her chin shot up in a display of defiance. “And I would do it again, if I got the chance.”

That said, her belligerence wilted. “Not that I’m ever likely to have another chance,” she said. “He’ll probably fire me when I walk in there this morning.”

“He should,” Moira said without the slightest trace of sympathy. “Of all the unprofessional, self-defeating things you could have done—”

Kelly cut her off. The lecture wasn’t really unexpected, but it was unnecessary. “You’re not telling me anything I haven’t already told myself a thousand times since last night. What do I do now?”

“Go over there and face the music,” Moira said. “And don’t be surprised if it’s a funeral dirge.”

“That’s what I love about you, Moira. You always paint such a rosy picture of things,” Kelly said wryly.

“What did you expect?”

“I suppose I was hoping you’d mix a tiny bit of compassion in with the lecture,” she admitted. “Imagine that this was a guy you’d had the hots for during most of your adult life. Wouldn’t you have done exactly what I did, given the chance?”

“You weren’t exactly given the chance,” Moira reminded her. “You stole it.”

“A technicality,” Kelly insisted. “Remember, he did kiss me back.”

“Which only proves he’s a red-blooded male.”

“You don’t intend to give an inch on this, do you?” Kelly asked wearily.

“And let you off the hook? No way.” Moira’s disapproving frown did lift ever so slightly, though. She leaned forward and subjected Kelly to a thorough survey. “Judging from the pink in your cheeks and the sparkle in your eyes, the kiss must have been worth putting your professional reputation on the line.”

Kelly sighed. “Oh, yes,” she confided dreamily. “That kiss was everything I ever dreamed of, and then some. I can only imagine what kissing him would be like if his heart was really in it.”

“Probably best not to go there,” Moira said. “You might be tempted to try it again.”

“Oh, I suspect I will be,” Kelly admitted. Before her friend could react to that, she squared her shoulders with renewed resolve. “But the next time, I’m going to resist. I’m going to remind myself that I am not in Michael’s life as a woman, but as a therapist. That I have a job to do, and I won’t be able to do it if there’s all that kissing going on.”

“Great logic,” Moira said, laughing. “Tell me again why you were at the pub.”

“So we could get to know each other better.”

“Well, kissing would definitely accomplish that,” Moira noted.

“Actually, it was all about gaining his trust,” Kelly corrected. “I don’t think the kissing accomplished that. If anything, it probably did the exact opposite. He’s probably terrified to be alone in a room with me for fear I’ll find some new way to test his code of honor.”

“Could be,” Moira confirmed. “I guess you’ll find that out when you get over there.”

Kelly sighed. “And there’s no point in putting that off, is there? Wish me luck.”

“Always,” her friend said, her expression sobering. “I just wish I knew if you wanted luck on the professional front or the personal.”

“That is the heart of the dilemma, isn’t it?” Kelly said as she left Moira’s office to make the drive to Michael’s.

Until she heard him call out in response to her ringing of the bell, she wasn’t sure she would even find him at home. Apparently he was less cowardly about this meeting than she was. She wanted to turn and run.

She didn’t, though. She walked into the apartment with her head held high and a plan forming in the back of her mind for keeping Michael as a client despite her behavior the night before. One look at him had all of that flying right out of her mind.

“What happened? Are you sick?” she demanded, taking in his ashen complexion, unshaved cheeks and still-mussed hair.

“No sleep,” he said tersely. “I finally gave up about twenty minutes ago. I haven’t even had my first cup of coffee.”

Her heart skipped a heat. “Why were you having trouble sleeping?”

“Do you even need to ask?” he asked, his expression daunting.

Kelly winced at his harsh tone. “The unfortunate kiss,” she said.

“The unfortunate, never-to-be-repeated kiss,” he confirmed, then almost immediately scowled at her. “There you go again.”

She stared at him in confusion. “What?”

“What I said before, it was not a challenge.”

“Of course not,” Kelly agreed at once, though she had to admit a tiny part of her had reared up in defiance of that never-to-be-repeated edict.

“Then why did you get that same glint in your eyes that you got last night right before you kissed the daylights out of me?” he asked.

Kelly stared at him. “A glint? Really?”

“Don’t give me that innocent look. If I’m going to have to watch every word out of my mouth around you, this is never going to work. I can’t have you thinking that everything I say is some sort of challenge or invitation or something.”

Kelly seized on the fact that he apparently hadn’t decided to fire her outright. “I’ll behave myself. I promise. What happened last night was a fluke. I swear to you that I am not in the habit of throwing myself at my clients.”

“Good to know,” he said, his mood lightening ever so slightly. “How did you happen to make an exception in my case?”

“Like I said, it was a fluke. I must have had too much to drink.”

“One ale that you nursed all night?” he asked skeptically.

Kelly shrugged. “I’m not a big drinker.”

A grin tugged at his lips. “Also very good to know. I guess it wouldn’t be wise to invite you over for beers and basketball.”

“I don’t think the basketball would be a problem,” she said thoughtfully, then winced as his grin spread. “Sorry. You were teasing.”

“Just a little,” he conceded.

“Michael, I really am sorry. What I did was inappropriate and unprofessional, and I assure you that it won’t happen again. I hope you’ll give me another chance.” She drew in a deep breath, then dove into her planned speech. “In fact, I was thinking that we could move the sessions to the rehab center where I work part-time, if that would make you feel more comfortable. There would be other patients, other therapists around. We’d never be alone.” She’d figured that alone would sell him on the idea, but just in case it wasn’t enough, she added, “And there is equipment there that would be helpful.”

His frown deepened as she spoke. “Forget the center. I don’t want to work with a lot of people staring at me. We can go on working right here.”

“But the equipment there really would be helpful. At some point you’ll need to go there, anyway.”

“When that time comes, we’ll discuss it,” he said flatly, clearly refusing to give the idea any more consideration. “Not until then. As for avoiding a repeat of what happened last night, I told you then that part of the blame is mine. I take full responsibility for my part in it, and you’ve apologized for yours. That’s sufficient. We’ll just forget about this and make sure it never happens again. There’s no point in denying that there’s some sort of attraction going on here, but we’re both adults. We can deal with it and keep ourselves from acting on it.” He met her gaze. “Deal?”

“Deal,” she agreed eagerly, so overcome with relief that she wanted to hug him, but wisely managed to resist. Instead, she injected a brisk note in her voice and said, “Now, why don’t I make some coffee and we can get started?”

“The coffee can wait,” Michael said. “We’ve already wasted too much of this session. I want you to give me a real workout today, and in case there’s any doubt in your mind, that is a challenge, and I expect you to take me up on it.”

Kelly nodded. She didn’t even try to hide her relief that he was giving her a second chance. And if the only thing he wanted from her was a grueling schedule of therapy, she would bury the memory of just how good that kiss had been and accommodate him.

At least for now.

* * *

The increasingly demanding exercises were excruciatingly painful. Sweat was beading on Michael’s brow, but Kelly had asked for ten more repetitions and, by God, he was going to give her ten. A SEAL never quit. Sometimes, in the weeks and months following his injury, he’d had a hard time remembering that. For a few weeks in San Diego, the news had been relentlessly discouraging. Eventually he’d taken it to heart and resigned himself to his sedentary fate.

But ever since the morning after that unforgettable kiss, Kelly had flatly refused to let him sink for one single second into a morass of self-pity. Whenever he muttered about all this effort being a waste of time, she sent him a chiding look and demanded even more from him. In the last couple of weeks, he’d learned to keep his mouth shut and do whatever she asked without protest.

The two hours she spent with him three days a week flew by. And after she left, it took him hours to recover from pushing himself to the limit, but he would not allow himself to quit.

She thought he was making excellent progress. He disagreed, but kept his opinion to himself. If he so much as hinted that he was discouraged, he was afraid that one of these days she would stop responding with extra work and simply walk out the door. If she did that, she would take his only hope with her.

Besides, aside from the rigors of her therapy, he enjoyed spending time with her. He liked the way she got in his face, refusing to back down. He liked even more the faint feminine scent she wore. He was beginning to remember just how much he liked having a woman in his life. Not one special woman, just someone to flirt with, maybe dance with, make love to.

He sighed, then realized that Kelly was staring at him with a puzzled expression.

“Where did you go just then?” she asked. “You stopped right in the middle of the eighth leg lift.”

“Sorry. I guess my mind wandered.”

“Really?”

“It happens,” he said gruffly.

“Of course it does, but you’re usually so focused.”

He reached for a towel and wiped his face. “Well, today I’m not. Sue me.”

There was no mistaking the hurt in Kelly’s eyes. It wrenched Michael’s heart. He honestly couldn’t blame her for being on the brink of tears. His mind had wandered down a forbidden path and now he was unreasonably taking it out on her. Why was it that he could look into the eyes of soulless terrorists and remain completely unmoved, but one glance into Kelly’s soft gray eyes and he was lost?

“Sorry,” he said, apologizing yet again for his thoughtless behavior.

“Why don’t we quit for the day?” she suggested, her tone neutral. “You’ve been working too hard for the past couple of weeks. You could use a break.”

Michael was smart enough to acknowledge that she was right. He had been overexerting himself and his muscles were complaining. The last thing he needed was a tear or some other injury that would put his rehabilitation on hold. Nor did he need to risk offending Kelly any more than he had already.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, trying to make amends. “I need to go see someone today. If you have time to give me a lift over there, I’ll buy you lunch on the way.”

Kelly seemed so taken aback by the suggestion, he couldn’t help chuckling. “I’m not scared to be alone in a car with you,” he teased. “Or in a restaurant. You’ve been on very good behavior lately. I think I can let down my guard for a couple of hours.”

She gave him a rueful smile. “You have no idea how stressful it’s been,” she responded.

Michael had the distinct impression that she wasn’t actually joking. He could understand exactly where she was coming from. Despite his overwhelming relief that they’d been adhering to the ground rules about no intimate contact, the strain of it was telling on him, too. Maybe that was one more reason why he’d suggested lunch. He figured they both deserved a reward for their incredible restraint.

“Probably best not to go down that road,” he told her. “Not when we’ve been doing so well.”

An expression of what might have been disappointment flashed in her eyes, but then she regained her composure.

“So where are you going that you’re willing to risk spending time alone in a car with me? It must be important.”

He nodded slowly. “It is. I’m going to stop by to see the Havilceks.”

“Your family,” she said at once, her expression brightening. “I met your mother a few times when we were kids. I guess she was actually your foster mother, though, right?”

He nodded. “I didn’t think of her that way, not for long, anyway. She wouldn’t allow it. She said that even if she couldn’t adopt me, she intended to be my mother. No boy could have had a better one.”

“Then why have you waited so long to get in touch with her since you got back to Boston?” she asked. “I still don’t understand that.”

“Self-protection,” he admitted candidly. “She’s the kind of woman who assesses a situation, then takes over. It doesn’t matter to her that I’ve been a grown man for a long time and that I’ve handled extraordinary responsibilities with the Navy, I’m still her baby.”

“Hard to picture anyone thinking of you that way,” Kelly said, surveying him with blatant appreciation. “Then again, that’s exactly how my folks treat Bryan and me. It would probably help if Bryan and I moved into our own places, but it’s been so comfortable living at home, neither of us have bothered. Hovering and worrying is probably just a universal parental trait.”

“That doesn’t make it any less annoying, especially in a situation like this,” Michael said.

“No, it certainly doesn’t.” Kelly regarded him with undisguised curiosity. “Do you remember your real...” She immediately stopped and corrected herself, “I mean, your biological mother at all?”

Michael had thought about that very question a lot over the years, even more so since Ryan and Sean had found him in San Diego. They both had such vivid memories of their mother, but Michael’s were all hazy. When Mother’s Day rolled around, it was Doris Havilcek—with her sweet smile, graying hair, sharp intelligence and steely resolve—whose image filled his head. Kathleen Devaney was a name on his birth certificate, nothing more. She stirred no sentimental feelings in him at all.

“Not really,” he told Kelly. “I don’t have the same kind of anger about her and my dad that Ryan and Sean feel, either. Maybe if I’d been a little older or if I’d wound up in a different situation the way they did, I’d hate them, too, but basically when it comes to my biological parents, I feel nothing at all.”

Sorrow spread across Kelly’s expressive face. “Aren’t you even the least bit curious about them? I know I would be. I’d want to know what they’re like, why they did what they did, where they are now.”

“Why bother?” he said cynically. “There are no good explanations for any of it. If it were up to me, Ryan would give up searching for them, but he’s determined to finish what he started. Sean has some reservations, but in general, I think he’s backing him up. I think one reason they’re so determined to find our parents is to find out what happened to the twins. For all we know, they were abandoned along the way, too, when it got to be too inconvenient to keep them around.”

“Twins?” Kelly repeated incredulously. “There were more of you?”

He nodded. “Twin brothers, Patrick and Daniel. They were only two when we were all split up. Ryan seems convinced our parents took them when they left.” He tried to dismiss the little twinge of dismay that stirred in him, but he wasn’t entirely successful. If it was true, it made the whole mess even more despicable.

He met Kelly’s gaze. “If you ask me, Ryan’s going to be opening up a whole lot of emotional garbage by tracking them down. If they did have all those years with our parents, how the hell are they supposed to react when three older brothers come charging back into their lives? And I doubt if either Ryan or Sean can claim to be entirely indifferent to the fact that our parents chose to keep Patrick and Daniel while dumping the rest of us into foster care.”

“But it could be wonderful to be reunited,” Kelly insisted.

“Maybe in an ideal world,” Michael said. “But something tells me it’s not going to be a picture-perfect moment, not for anyone.”

He shrugged off his dread of that day and forced a smile. “Have you actually agreed to my invitation yet?”

She laughed. “Probably not, but if you think I’d miss the chance to see you reunited with your mom, you’re crazy. Of course I’ll take you, and lunch will be great.”

“You won’t mind pushing me around in this chair?” he asked, even though the real question was how he was going to feel letting her do it. He had a hunch she’d be more comfortable in the situation than he was likely to be.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, confirming his guess. “But you might want to change first. Otherwise the restaurant’s likely to make us eat outside, even though the temperature’s in the teens today.”

Michael glanced at his sweaty workout clothes and feigned indignation. “You think I need to improve on this?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said fervently. “Not that I haven’t always been rather fond of a truly male scent, but everyone’s not like me.”

“Maybe you should come back in a half hour,” he suggested.

She frowned at him. “Make it an hour. I could use a little sprucing up myself. Will that still give us enough time for lunch before you’re due at the Havilceks’?”

“Sure,” he said, unwilling to admit that he hadn’t exactly warned them that he was coming by. He hadn’t wanted to give his mother time to work up a good head of steam about his failure to get in touch the second he hit town. He was hoping the surprise of finding him on her doorstep would take the edge off of her annoyance.

Kelly grinned at him. “You haven’t told them you’re coming, have you?”

“Nope,” he said unrepentantly.

She laughed. “This is going to be fun. I’m not sure which I’m looking forward to more—the joyful reunion or listening to your mother deliver a blistering lecture about the way you’ve been hiding out in Boston the last few months.”

Michael regarded her with chagrin. “Something tells me you’ll get a chance to evaluate both options and decide which has the most entertainment value. The only person I’ve ever met who’s tougher on me than you is my mother. None of my commanding officers in the navy even came close.”

“Then I can definitely hardly wait to meet her,” Kelly said. “Maybe she’ll give me some tips on how to handle you.”

He leveled a look straight into eyes suddenly churning with emotion. “Trust me, that is not a lesson you need to learn.”

Kelly looked incredibly pleased by the backhanded compliment. “Even an expert can use an occasional pointer from someone with more experience.”

Michael groaned. What had he been thinking? The prospect of having Kelly and his mother ganging up on him was almost more daunting than trying to get out of this damned wheelchair.


6

Kelly deliberately chose the most wheelchair accessible restaurant she knew for their lunch. Though she wasn’t absolutely certain, she was fairly sure that this was the first time Michael had ventured out to eat anyplace other than his brother’s pub. She didn’t want the experience to be so stressful that he refused to try it again. He was a proud man and he was already chafing enough at letting her assist him with getting in and out of her car.

“Is this okay?” she asked as she walked along beside him as he rolled himself toward the street-level entrance.

“Looks fine,” he said, his expression grim as he contemplated the door. When Kelly started toward it, he grabbed her wrist. “I’ll get the damn door.”

Arguing seemed pointless. She waited until he’d maneuvered himself around and could hold it while she stepped inside. Then he faced the dilemma of how to get in himself without having the door crash into him. His face was a study in concentration as he shouldered the door open, then eased his chair through the entry. She didn’t release her pent-up breath until he was safely inside the restaurant.

There were more obstacles to come. The only vacant table in the busy restaurant was all the way across the room. When the room was empty, Kelly imagined the aisles were wide enough, but now with chairs jutting erratically out, they were all but impassable. Michael’s expression was filled with tension as he tried to make his way between tables without knocking into the backs of other customers, most of whom were completely oblivious to his difficulties. The hostess had long since placed their menus on the table and gone back to her post by the time Michael finally crossed the room.

“You did great,” Kelly said, taking her seat.

“I don’t need a pat on the head for getting across a damned restaurant,” he snapped.

She bit back a sharp retort of her own and turned her attention to the menu. She was still fighting the sting of tears when she felt his hand cover hers.

“Kelly?”

“What?” she responded, still holding her menu up to mask the fact that she was about to cry over something so ridiculous, especially when she could totally understand his level of exasperation. For a man whose work had required a peak level of physical fitness and agility, to adjust to being anything less had to be difficult.

“I seem to spend my life apologizing to you, but I am sorry. It’s just so damned frustrating to be tied to this chair,” Michael said, his tone full of contrition.

She lifted her gaze then and met his. “It won’t be forever. And even if it were, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.”

“It’s already the end of my world,” he said quietly. “No matter what, I won’t be going back to work as a SEAL. For months, in the back of my mind, I was convinced I could if I just worked hard enough.” He sighed. “But for weeks now I’ve been struggling to face the fact that that’s not going to happen.”

“I know I can’t begin to understand what it’s like to lose something that’s been so important to you, but you will find something else just as challenging,” she told him earnestly. “There are plenty of things a man with your intelligence can do. And a career’s not everything. You can marry, have a family. Your life isn’t over.”

“The only one I ever wanted is over,” he said flatly.

“If that’s going to be your attitude, then I feel sorry for you,” she told him, refusing to back down when a dull, red flush climbed into his cheeks. “There are plenty of people who will never walk again. You will get out of that wheelchair. So it’s taking a little longer than you’d like. And you won’t be able to do some of the rigorous things you once did, so what? You’re alive, dammit! Stop feeling so sorry for yourself and concentrate on what you still have, instead of what you’ve lost.”

For what seemed like an eternity she wasn’t sure if he was going to explode with anger or simply turn around and wheel himself right back out of the restaurant. She was still wondering when their waiter appeared and, completely oblivious to the tension, announced that he was Henry and he’d be taking care of them today.

“Just what I need,” Michael muttered. “Somebody else who thinks it’s his mission in life to take care of me.”

Henry stared at him in confusion. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

Michael’s smile wasn’t exactly wholehearted, but it was a smile. “No, I’m just having a bad day. How’s your day going, Henry?”

Henry still looked uncertain, but he said gamely, “Fine, sir. Have you two decided on what you’d like to drink?”

Michael glanced questioningly toward Kelly.

“I’ll have a cup of tea,” she said.

Michael nodded. “The lady will have tea, and I’ll have your strongest poison.”

Henry blinked furiously. “Sir?”

Kelly bit back a chuckle. “Don’t mind him, Henry. He thinks he’s being amusing. Bring him a cup of very strong coffee. I want him wide-awake while I finish telling him what I think of him.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the waiter said, backing away from the table with undisguised relief.

“Think he’ll ever come back?” Michael asked.

“He shouldn’t,” Kelly said. “You were awful to him.”

“And to you,” Michael said. “I thought I’d save you the trouble of having to put something lethal in my coffee by asking him to do it.”

“Don’t think I wouldn’t, if I had any murderous tendencies,” Kelly told him. “Unfortunately, I still think you’re worth salvaging.”

He studied her intently. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you think I’m worth saving?”

She got the impression that he sincerely wanted to know, maybe even needed to know. “Because underneath all that exasperating self-pity, you’re a good guy. You’ve spent your life being a hero for your country. You’re smart, occasionally funny and breathtakingly handsome, though I wouldn’t let that go to your head. Good looks rarely make up for a lousy disposition.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “I’ll try to remember that from now on.”

Kelly regarded him seriously. “Michael, there really are a lot of blessings in your life. You should try counting them, instead of focusing on what you’ve lost.”

“I will,” he promised, his own expression suddenly serious. “I hope you won’t mind if I put you at the top of the list.”

Kelly’s breath caught in her throat and the tears she’d fought off returned with a vengeance. “Dammit, why did you have to go and say something so blasted sweet?” she asked, swiping impatiently at her cheeks. “I was just getting comfortable being furious with you.”

He reached over and caught a tear streaking down her face, then brushed it gently away. “Well, now, I couldn’t have that, could I?”

She sniffed and tried not to notice the way his fingers felt against her skin. “Why not?”

“You were liable to go off and leave me stranded in here,” he told her with a perfectly straight face.

Kelly choked back the laughter that bubbled up. “I should have known your reason would be totally self-serving.”

He grinned. “That’s the kind of guy I am,” he said unrepentantly.

“No,” she said emphatically. “That’s the kind of guy you want me to think you are.” She leveled a look deep into his eyes. “Which makes me wonder why you feel it’s necessary. Are you deliberately trying to scare me off, Michael? Is this part of your tactic to keep some distance between us?”

He seemed to consider the question for an eternity before finally shrugging. “I honestly don’t know.”

“Then you should know that it takes a lot more than a bad temper to scare me away.”

He sighed heavily. “Yeah, I think I’d already figured that out.”

* * *

The entire scene at the restaurant had been totally draining. Given a choice, Michael would have gone back to his own apartment and hidden out for the rest of the day, but he wasn’t about to admit to Kelly just how shaken he was, both by the struggles he’d had adjusting to a world in which he wasn’t agile as a cat and to the discovery that her opinion of him mattered. It mattered far more than it should.

Which was also why he wasn’t going to back out on this visit to see his folks. He wasn’t going to give Kelly one more reason to think of him as a coward.

Given his state of emotional turmoil, he shouldn’t have been surprised by his reaction to seeing the home in which he’d grown up, but he was. It was as if a hard knot he hadn’t even known was there, deep inside, finally eased.

The house, an unimpressive, two-story brick Colonial on a quiet street, looked exactly the way it had since the first day he’d walked through the door. There was ivy climbing up one side, despite his father’s frequent attempts to destroy it. The shutters, despite his mother’s avowed intention to paint them red, were still the glossy black his father preferred, as was the front door with its gleaming brass knocker. His gaze drifted along the front walk, then froze at the sight of the steps. There were so blasted many of them. How had he forgotten?

Apparently Kelly saw his dilemma at the same instant, but she was quicker to adjust. “You can go in through the garage,” she said swiftly. “It opens directly into the kitchen, doesn’t it?”

Michael didn’t bother asking how she knew that. She had been in the house from time to time. If the visits hadn’t been especially memorable to him, apparently they had been to her. He was grateful for that at the moment.

“That’ll work,” he said at once. “The garage door’s not locked and it’s not automatic. Think you can lift it?”

She grinned and feigned flexing a muscle. “I may be little, but I’m mighty.”

She went on ahead as Michael tried to navigate the driveway. It seemed to take forever. He was surprised that no one glanced outside and caught a glimpse of him struggling up the slight incline. What if no one was home? Granted it was Saturday afternoon and his mother had always baked on Saturdays, but maybe things had changed.

As he considered that, he realized that Kelly had the garage door open. His mother’s car, the same dull gray sedan she’d driven for far too many years now, was right where it had always been. He bit back a sigh as he thought of how many times he’d offered her money to buy herself something newer, and how many times she’d told him to save his money for a rainy day.

Just then the door from the kitchen was flung open and there she was, her cheeks rosy from the heat of the oven, wisps of graying curls framing her face and an expression of pure delight on her face.

“Oh, my,” his mother whispered. “I heard the garage door, but I never imagined... Oh, my.” She was down the driveway, her arms around him before Michael could even blink away the tears that threatened.

“Mom, you have to stop crying,” he said as he held her tightly. “I’m okay, and any second now you’re going to have me blubbering. How will that look?”

“I don’t care how it looks,” she said, still not releasing him. She shook him just a little. “There’s nothing wrong with a man showing emotion. I thought I’d taught you that.”

Michael laughed. “You certainly tried.”

His mother stood up at last, then surveyed him thoroughly. “Oh, Michael, you look wonderful. Why didn’t you let us know you were coming?”

“I didn’t want you to make a fuss,” he said, knowing now how futile that had been. Surprise or no surprise, there would eventually be a fuss. He took her hand and gestured toward the garage. “There’s someone here you’ve been ignoring. Do you remember Kelly Andrews?”

His mother spun around, and her eyes lit up. “Bryan’s little sister,” she said at once, then grinned. “The one who always had a crush on you.”

Michael winced. “Mom, don’t embarrass her.”

But Kelly was laughing. “And I thought I’d hidden it so well.”

“A mother always knows,” his mother told her. “It’s wonderful to see you again. But how...?” Understanding obviously dawned, and she whirled on him. “Michael Devaney, how long have you been back in Boston?”

“Not long,” he said evasively.

She turned to Kelly. “How long?”

Kelly looked straight at him and didn’t even hesitate. “I believe it’s been about six weeks now, hasn’t it, Michael?”

“Traitor,” he said.

“Honesty should be prized,” his mother scolded. “What on earth am I thinking keeping the two of you out here when it’s bitter cold? Come inside where it’s warm, so I won’t feel guilty making you listen to me tell you just how annoyed I am with you, Michael Devaney.”

He felt a little like saying, “Aw, Ma, do I have to?” Unfortunately he knew exactly the sort of reaction that would get. He might as well go in and get the deserved lecture over with.

Looking up, he gave his mother his most appealing smile. “I don’t suppose you’ve been baking today, have you?”

She frowned at him, though there was a twinkle in her eyes. “I’ve just finished baking for the social hour after church tomorrow, as you perfectly well know, since I’ve been doing it every Saturday for the past thirty or more years. I don’t imagine anyone there will object if I cut one of the apple pies for you and Kelly.” She gave him a knowing look. “And I imagine you’ll be wanting ice cream on top.”

“Is there any other way?” he asked as his mother stepped behind the chair and briskly wheeled it inside as if she’d been doing exactly that forever.

The kitchen smelled of cinnamon and sugar and apples. While he and Kelly took off their coats, his mother bustled around cutting the pie, putting ice cream on top and setting it on the table. Only after he’d taken the first bite and made all the appropriate comments about her incredible baking did she pull out a chair and glower at him.

“Now, then,” she said in a tone with which he was all too familiar, “we’ll talk about why in heaven’s name you thought you had to keep your presence here in Boston a secret from me.”

Kelly grinned and settled back more comfortably in her chair. “I think I’m going to enjoy seeing you try to wriggle off the hook.”

His mother frowned at her. “You’re not off the hook, either, young lady. You know the phone number here. You could have tipped me off.”

Kelly instantly looked so incredibly guilty that Michael took pity on her. “Don’t blame her. I swore her to secrecy.”

It was a slight overstatement of the truth, but Kelly didn’t deserve to get one of his mother’s blistering lectures on his account. Hiding out had been his choice, though for the life of him, he couldn’t think now why he had thought it was necessary.

“Then you explain it,” his mother challenged.

He met her gaze and said simply, “I needed to get my bearings.”

“And you couldn’t do that under this roof?” she demanded incredulously.

“No,” he said quietly. “I’m not the same man I was when I left here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” his mother said with obvious impatience. “Of course, you are, certainly in every way that counts. You’re going to have to do much better than that, Michael.”

Both women seemed to be watching him expectantly, but Michael didn’t have any answers for them. None his mother was likely to accept, certainly.

“I’m glad I’m here now, Mom. Isn’t that enough?”

Her eyes misted again. “Yes, I suppose it is,” she said softly, then reached for his hand. “Your father is going to be so pleased. He’ll be home soon. You can wait, can’t you? And I can call your sisters. I’m sure they’d want to be here to welcome you.”

Michael noticed that even without him having to say it, she’d apparently gotten the message that he wouldn’t be staying here with them. “Of course I can wait, as long as Kelly’s not in a rush.”

She immediately shook her head. “I’m in no rush. In fact, that will give me time to try to pry this pie recipe out of your mother.”

Nothing Kelly could have said would have done more to ingratiate her with his mother, Michael thought as he saw the pleasure bloom on Doris Havilcek’s face. Before he knew it the two of them were sharing recipes as if they’d been at it for years. He sat back, closed his eyes for an instant and let the sound of their excited talk flow over him.

It didn’t take long for the rest of his family to assemble. His foster sisters Jan and Patty, were the first to arrive, welcoming him with hugs and more stern admonishments about his failure to get in touch the instant he hit town. He was trying to fend them off with good-natured teasing when the man he’d always considered his father walked in.

Kenneth Havilcek was a big, burly man who’d spent his life in construction. He’d loved athletics and privately bemoaned the fact that his daughters weren’t the least bit interested in any of the sports he loved. When Michael had come into his life, he’d said Michael was the gift of a son he’d been dreaming about. Sports had been their bond. No father could have been prouder when Michael excelled at both football and basketball in high school. He’d never missed a single game.

He was halfway across the room, a welcoming smile on his face, when he spotted the wheelchair and faltered. When he finally met Michael’s gaze, there was a shared misery in his expression. Clearly, he understood better than most of the others in the room the full implications of Michael being unable to walk, however temporarily.

The moment lasted only a heartbeat, then he was bending over, giving Michael a hearty bear hug and a slap on the back. “Welcome home, son. I imagine your mother has already given you an earful about keeping us in the dark about being in Boston, so I won’t add to it.” He waved a finger under Michael’s nose. “But don’t think for a second I’m not as irritated by it as she is.”

“Sorry, sir.”

His father nodded. “I should think you would be. Now, then, what’s this I’ve been hearing about your biological brothers finding you?”

His sisters reacted with shock. “You’ve heard from them?” Jan demanded. “Why didn’t anybody tell me?”

“Or me?” Patty asked. “This is huge news. Where are they? Have you actually seen them? What are they like?”

Michael held up his hands. “Whoa! One question at a time. They came to San Diego when I was in the hospital, so, yes, I have seen them.”

“They were in San Diego and you wouldn’t let us come?” Jan said, her indignation plain.

“I didn’t invite them,” he protested. “They showed up.”

“I guess there’s a lesson there for us,” Patty said to her sister. “When it comes to our baby brother, we shouldn’t wait for an invitation. So where do they live? What are they like?”

“They’re right here in Boston,” he admitted. “We have a lot of old baggage to work out, but I do like them. And they’re dying to meet all of you. Ryan would like you to join us at his pub one evening.”

Patty stared at him with sudden comprehension. “Not Ryan’s Place?”

Michael nodded. “You know it?”

“I’ve been there half a dozen times for the Irish music. Ryan is your brother? I can’t believe it.” She tilted her head and studied him. “Now that you say it, though, I can see the resemblance. This is so amazing. When can we go?”

Everything was moving a little too fast for Michael. He wasn’t sure what sort of reaction he’d expected from his family, but it hadn’t been this. Then, again, he should have known that people who could welcome a little boy into their home with such open hearts would be just as eager to welcome those who mattered to him.

“How about next Friday night?” he said eventually. He turned his gaze to Kelly, who’d been sitting quietly throughout his reunion with his father and sisters. “Can you make it then?”

Michael caught the pleased look that his mother exchanged with his father and knew exactly what it meant. She already had him romantically linked with Kelly, though they’d never given her so much as a hint that Kelly was anything more than his therapist.

Kelly must have seen the same look, because she hesitated.

“I’d like you to come,” he told her, not sure why he felt it was so important to include her. He just knew that this whole day had been easier because she was by his side. He wanted her there when his two families met for the first time. “Please.”

She smiled then. “Of course, I’ll come,” she said, studying him intently. “But if you don’t mind, I think we should be going now.”

His sisters protested, but his mother took Kelly’s side and within minutes Michael was outside in Kelly’s car. He glanced over at her as they pulled away.

“How did you know I was ready to leave?” he asked.

She shrugged off the intuition. “Something in your eyes, I suppose.”

Michael sighed. It should be terrifying that she could read him so easily, but for some reason, it wasn’t. Tomorrow, when he was less exhausted, he’d have to try to figure out why.


7

Kelly had known she was in serious emotional trouble the minute she’d started sharing recipes with Doris Havilcek. There had been something so wonderfully comfortable about it, as if she were already a member of the family that had taken Michael in when he was a boy. Even as warmth had stolen through her, she had realized that she was heading down a very dangerous road. Being accepted by the obviously warmhearted Mrs. Havilcek was a far cry from having Michael indicate that he wanted her in his life in any meaningful way.

She had tried to remain on the fringes of the family’s reunion, staying silent and unobtrusive so that no one else would get the idea that she and Michael were a couple. Clearly his foster mother had jumped to that conclusion, and that was likely to be awkward enough.

Kelly had spent the rest of the weekend trying to think of some way to extricate herself from the visit to Ryan’s Place, but nothing came to mind—probably because the truth was that she wanted to be there to see how the Havilceks and Devaneys blended together, and whether Michael was at ease among them.

Even so, on Tuesday she attempted to make an excuse as she and Michael were finishing his therapy session. The two hours hadn’t gone especially well, and he was in a particularly foul temper because of it. She probably should have waited to broach the subject of Friday night until his mood improved, but she wanted to get it over with.

“One more thing,” she said as she gathered up her equipment. “I’ve been thinking about Friday, and I don’t think that’s going to work for me.”

Michael’s gaze shot up, a surprising display of alarm in his eyes. “Why not?”

“It’s just not. I...” The lie faltered on her lips, but she sucked in a breath and managed to get it out. “I have a date.”

He regarded her curiously. Suddenly his anger seemed to fade. “Is that so?” he said mildly. “Can’t be much of a date, if you didn’t even remember it when the subject of Friday night came up on Saturday.” His gaze narrowed. “Or did you make it after that?”

Kelly hated the faint hint of contempt in his eyes at the possibility that she was breaking her plans with him to go out with someone who’d issued a later invitation. “No, of course not,” she insisted, unwilling to carry the lie to that extreme. She didn’t want him to dislike her. Nor did she want to destroy the fragile trust they were building. She merely wanted to protect her heart. “It was on my calendar. I’d just forgotten about it.”

“Is this date with a man?” he asked.

Kelly studied him curiously. He’d almost sounded jealous, but that couldn’t possibly be. Or could it? She decided to play out the charade a little longer to try to gauge his reaction. “Don’t women usually go out with men?” she asked. “Besides, my private life is none of your concern. We set up the ground rules weeks ago.”

He sighed at that. “Technically, no,” he agreed. “But this family thing is important to me. I thought you understood that I want you to be there.”

“Of course I understand that it’s important, but you don’t need me there,” she said, instantly feeling guilty for trying to wriggle off the hook. “Look at this another way. If I stay away, we’ll avoid all sorts of potentially embarrassing questions.”

“Such as?”

“What I’m doing at what should be a very private meeting between the Havilceks and the Devaneys,” she explained. “That’s likely to stir up all sorts of speculation.”

Michael suddenly grinned. “So that’s it,” he said as if he’d just discovered some huge secret. “You’re scared my mother’s about to start making wedding plans. You should have thought of that before you started asking her for the recipe for all my favorite dishes.”

She frowned at his obvious amusement. Maybe it was a big joke to him, but it wasn’t to her. “Aren’t you worried about that?”

“Not particularly.”

“Why?” she asked, bewildered by the fact that he wasn’t the least bit concerned.

“Because my mother is basically harmless. And if she does start getting any crazy ideas, I’ll set her straight. It’s not a big deal, Kelly. I can handle my mother.”

“Yeah, I could see that on Saturday,” she said dryly.

He laughed. “Okay, I can usually handle my mother.” His expression sobered. “Come on, Kelly, tell the truth. You don’t really have a date, do you?”

Continuing to lie was obviously pointless. Apparently she wasn’t all that good at it. “No,” she finally admitted with a sigh.

“Then come.”

“Why is my being there so important to you?”

Now it was his turn to look vaguely bewildered. “It just is,” he said finally. “I feel more...” He paused, searching for a word. “I feel more normal when you’re around.”

The explanation left her more confused than ever. “Normal how?”

He looked away as if he were almost embarrassed to make the admission. “You don’t get that expression in your eyes when you look at me that everyone else gets,” he said.

Kelly was beginning to get the picture. “No pity?”

“Exactly. And you don’t let me off the hook when I’m behaving badly. Everyone else does, as if I deserve a pass because I’m in this damned chair. That’s the last thing I need. I need to be held accountable for my actions. I need you right now.”

Kelly swallowed hard against the tide of emotion rising in her throat. Michael’s admission that he needed her—that he needed anyone—took her breath away. It was a huge breakthrough for a man who’d probably gone through his whole life trying to convince himself that he didn’t need anyone. How could she possibly turn him down after that?

“What time?” she asked, resigned.

As he realized what she was saying, a smile spread slowly across his face. “Pick me up at seven?”

Kelly almost agreed, then recalled that he’d told his family to meet at the pub at six-thirty. “Isn’t that a little late?”

He gave her a rueful look at having been caught. “I was hoping they’d get all the introductions out of the way before I got there.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’ll pick you up at six-fifteen, and no dillydallying. Be outside and ready to go. I’ll remind you of that when I’m here on Thursday.”

Michael laughed, clearly in a much better frame of mind now that she’d caved in to his request. “Yes, ma’am.”

Impulsively she went back and touched his cheek. The faint stubble was rough against her palm. His heat and masculinity drew her as no other man’s ever had. It was getting harder and harder to go on with the charade that she was immune to him. “It’s going to be okay, you know.”

He placed his hand over hers and held it in place. “With you there, something tells me it will be.”

* * *

Michael still wasn’t used to Kelly having her hands all over him. It didn’t seem to faze her, so he knew he shouldn’t let it bother him, but it did. In fact, it was driving him crazy. As if worrying about Friday night weren’t bad enough, today he couldn’t seem to keep his thoughts from straying to what it would be like if Kelly’s touches were a little—okay, a lot—less impersonal.

“How do you do it?” he asked finally when it felt as if he might explode if she stroked her hands over his thigh one more time. He’d spent the past few weeks trying to hide the fact that he was in a perpetual state of arousal when she was around and it was beginning to get to him.

“Do what?” she asked, sounding oddly distant.

“The massage thing.”

“I took classes.”

He glanced back over his shoulder and frowned. “Not what I meant, and you know it.”

She met his gaze, then looked hastily away, her cheeks suddenly rosy.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” he persisted.

“It’s my job,” she said, her tone as prim as someone’s elderly maiden aunt. “You’re a client.”

“I’m also a man,” he reminded her. Some wicked instinct had him rolling over to prove the point. He was thoroughly aroused...and that was despite a concerted attempt to remain completely disconnected from the massage.

Kelly’s attention was immediately drawn to the evidence. She swallowed hard, then deliberately looked away. Michael tried to gauge her reaction. It had almost seemed as if she was more fascinated—maybe even secretly pleased—than embarrassed. Maybe she wasn’t as immune as he’d thought.

“Look, I...” Her words dwindled off.

He reached out and clasped her hand in his. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I really don’t. Actually, I was curious about how you remain detached from what you’re doing.”

She met his gaze. “The truth?”

“Of course.”

“The issue has never really come up before.”

“Before?” he repeated, a certain measure of gloating creeping into his voice. “Meaning it has with me? You aren’t unaffected by touching me?”

She pulled away. “Don’t sound so blasted pleased with yourself. We really shouldn’t be having this conversation. It’s inappropriate and totally unprofessional on my part. Besides, we had an agreement.”

She was so clearly dismayed that he instantly backed off. Besides, he had the answer he wanted. The attraction wasn’t as one-sided as he’d imagined. Satisfied with that knowledge, he rolled back on his stomach and rested his head on his arms. “I’ll drop it, then,” he murmured.

“Thank you.”

“But don’t be surprised if it comes up again tomorrow night when you’re not on the clock.”

Her hands on his leg stilled. “Michael!” she protested weakly.

“Kelly!” he responded, teasing.

She sighed heavily. “What am I going to do about you?”

“An intriguing question,” he told her. “Let’s put that on the agenda for tomorrow night, too.”

“You realize if these topics come up tomorrow night, we might never actually make it to the pub?”

He hid his grin. “Definitely an added bonus,” he conceded.

She smacked his uninjured leg. “Forget it, Devaney. I’m not providing you with an excuse to get out of introducing your families to each other.”

“Oh, well, it was worth a try,” he said with an air of resignation.

And getting Kelly to admit that she was not oblivious to the effects of these massages had definitely been a side benefit. Of course, it was also likely to fuel his own fantasies so that he wouldn’t get a minute’s rest between tonight and tomorrow. He figured the sacrifice of a little sleep was worth it.

* * *

Kelly was a nervous wreck on Friday night. She told herself she was worried for Michael’s sake, that she merely wanted everything to go well, but it was more than that. The entire conversation they’d had about the impact of her massages on him had been disconcerting at best. His assurance that he intended to get into the subject again tonight the instant they were alone had her feeling edgy with anticipation of an entirely different sort.

She had been stunned when he’d revealed that he was thoroughly aroused. Stunned and, she was willing to admit, thrilled that she could have that kind of impact on a man she’d been convinced didn’t think of her as a woman at all. There was little question now that Michael saw her as a desirable grown-up, not a kid. But what would he do about it? Would he do the noble thing and ignore it because of his friendship with her brother and her role as his therapist? She hoped not. She’d been waiting far too long for him to notice her.

Of course, that wistful thought lasted only the length of time it took to say “lost license.” She could just imagine what Moira would have to say if Kelly revealed that there was anything the least bit provocative about her contact with a client.

She should get a grip, she told herself sternly, and tell Michael he had to do the same. Or she should quit. One or the other. She certainly couldn’t let things continue as they had been, not if she valued her professional reputation.

But the prospect of not seeing Michael on a regular basis was inconceivable. He’d come to mean too much to her. Her childish infatuation was developing into something far more important. Something she had to ignore, though, if she wanted to see him through his rehabilitation. And she did want that. She wanted to be there when his leg was strong and he was finally able to walk again. Which meant she was going to have to push her personal feelings for him aside and pretend they didn’t exist, no matter how badly he tormented her.

When she arrived Friday night to pick him up, he was dutifully waiting for her outside, despite the fact that the temperature had dropped and there was a threat of snow in the damp air.

“Are you crazy?” she demanded as she got out to open the door and help him into the car. “Why didn’t you wait inside?”

“You told me six-fifteen and that I wasn’t to dillydally,” he reminded her.

“And you always do what I say?”

He gave her his most winning smile, the one that made her heart flip over. “I try.”

Kelly noticed that he was able to transfer himself to the car a bit more easily than he could the previous weekend. He was actually able to put a little weight on his bad leg. When he was settled, she put the wheelchair in the back, then got back behind the wheel and glanced over at him.

“You ready?”

“No.”

She grinned at his sour expression. “Too bad.”

“We could run away to the Caribbean. Spend a month or two in the sun getting a tan,” he suggested, regarding her seriously. “My treat.”

“As much as the possibility of spending a few days on a beach where the temperature is at least fifty degrees warmer than it is here appeals to me, I’m afraid I’ll have to say no to that, too.”

“You’re no fun,” he accused.

His words, clearly spoken in jest, hit a raw nerve. “So I’ve been told,” she said, unable to keep the old hurt out of her voice.

Her response clearly startled him. His gaze narrowed. “What idiot said a thing like that?”

“The last man I dated.”

Something in his expression turned dark and dangerous. “He hurt you, didn’t he?”

“Well, it’s never pleasant being told that one is a bore,” she said, trying to make light of it.

It wasn’t that Phil Cavanaugh had devastated her. She hadn’t cared enough about him for his opinion to matter that much, but she had been shaken. It had made her question if that was why no relationship she’d been in had lasted more than a few months. Had Phil been speaking the truth? Was that the conclusion her other dates had eventually reached?

“Why would he say such a thing?” Michael prodded.

“Look, just forget about it,” she said. “It’s not important. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“You mentioned it because even though I was joking, I apparently struck a nerve. Now, tell me,” he ordered, “what gave this jerk the idea that you weren’t much fun? Was there some specific incident, or was he just insulting you on general principle?”

Kelly had never examined that awful exchange from that exact perspective before. She considered Michael’s question thoughtfully. It hadn’t been an out-of-the-blue comment on her personality at all. Phil had made the accusation when she’d refused to join him at a nightclub for swinging singles, who enjoyed sharing their partners. She’d been stunned that he’d asked in the first place. He’d professed to be shocked by her refusal. Obviously they hadn’t known each other at all. For months afterward she’d struggled to figure out why he’d ever thought she would go along with such an idea. She’d refused every invitation, terrified that the man who asked had the same low impression of her morals that Phil had had.

Suddenly she felt Michael’s hand cover hers.

“Kelly, what happened?” he asked, regarding her with concern. “I really want to know.”

And oddly enough, she found that she wanted to tell him, but how to explain it so that she didn’t feel even dirtier than she had that night? “He made a rather insulting suggestion about how we could spend an evening and I turned him down,” she said finally, skirting the specifics.

“Some men don’t take rejection well,” he noted.

Her lips twitched slightly. If only it were that simple. “As I recall, not five minutes ago you made the same comment when I turned your invitation down.”

“Yes, but I was joking and you knew it.” He studied her intently. “You did know it, didn’t you?”

“Honestly, yes, but that didn’t stop me from having an instant of déjà vu.”

“I’m sorry. Not that I don’t think running away to the Caribbean with you to be an excellent idea, but I was only trying to buy myself some time.” He lifted his wrist, looked at his watch, and a triumphant grin spread across his face. “Which I have successfully done.”

Kelly glanced at the clock on the dashboard and realized it was indeed after six-thirty. All thoughts of the slimy Phil Cavanaugh fled. She scowled at Michael. “You rat!”

“At least acknowledge that I’m a clever rat,” he teased.

“Not a chance. I intend to tell everyone who’ll listen that we’re late because you’re not only sneaky, but you’re also a total chicken.”

He regarded her with mock ferocity. “You wouldn’t dare,” he said direly.

“Watch me.”

He didn’t say another word as she started the car and drove the short distance to Ryan’s Place, but as soon as she’d parked and come around the car to help him into his wheelchair, he snagged her hand and pulled her closer.

“I know one way to stop you,” he said, amusement threading through his voice.

“Oh? How?”

“Like this.” He gave a firm tug that had her tumbling into his lap. His mouth covered hers in a kiss that robbed her of breath and definitely cut off both thoughts and speech. Her pulse was scrambling by the time he released her.

She stood up shakily, cleared her throat and regarded him through dazed eyes. “You won’t do that, though,” she said, her voice unsteady.

“I won’t?”

“No,” she said with confidence. “It would stir up too many questions.”

He laughed. “Do you honestly think I’m afraid of a few questions? Especially when the trade-off is a chance to kiss you thoroughly? Sweetheart, remember that I’ve been trained to withstand the worst kind of torture without breaking.”

Kelly didn’t like the gleam in his eye. She realized suddenly that he meant exactly what he was saying. He would kiss her into silence and enjoy every outrageous minute of it.

So would she, but that was another issue entirely, and she was not about to share that little tidbit of information with him.

* * *

For once, kissing Kelly had served a purpose other than completely and fruitlessly turning him on. He was feeling downright cheerful and relaxed when they finally went into his brother’s pub. Unfortunately, his sister-in-law was the first to spot them. Maggie was on the two of them like a hummingbird after nectar.

“My, my, my,” she said, subjecting both of them to a thorough survey. “Rosy cheeks, avoiding looking at each other. Hmm, what could it mean?”

“Nothing,” Kelly insisted, her cheeks burning an even deeper shade of pink.

Maggie’s gaze settled on Michael. “You going to lie to me, too?”

He grinned. “Not a chance. I know better.”

Maggie patted his back. “Good man,” she said approvingly. She winked at Kelly. “Fibbing is a waste of time, anyway. I saw you two through the front window. It was quite a show, at least until that kiss pretty much fogged up the window. Then I had to rely on my imagination to guess what was going on.”

“Oh, God,” Kelly whispered, obviously embarrassed. “Did everyone see?”

Maggie wrapped a consoling arm around her shoulders. “Only me and Ryan,” she said, then added, “and the people at the table by the door.”

Kelly whirled in that direction, then groaned when she saw it was Michael’s folks. His mother seemed especially pleased by what she’d observed. His father was merely studying the two of them with a speculative look.

Maggie laughed. “Definitely a fascinated audience, am I right?”

Michael shook his head at Maggie’s obvious pleasure in their discomfort. Ryan definitely had his hands full with her. Michael couldn’t decide if he pitied him or envied him. Add in Caitlyn, and the balance definitely tilted toward envy.





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