Or did she?

Confused and surprisingly hurt, she stared at the stairs up which Stone had disappeared.

The detective she’d hired had done his job. She knew all the paper facts about Stone and his daughter-her daughter knew where they lived, what he did for a living, what he drove, and still it wasn’t enough. She yearned for more. She yearned to see her child.

For that, Jenna needed forgiveness. And Stone-she needed him, too. He’d looked so good. So big and powerful and darkly beautiful. So… hers. Only he would never be hers again. She’d seen to that ten years ago, when she’d run from both of them like the frightened seventeen-year-old she’d been. The ache in her heart was so sharp it almost doubled her over.

So did the shock of him not recognizing her-an additionally painful and deflating blow.

Well, what had she expected? A jagged windshield tearing off her face hadn’t helped any. Neither had the reconstructive surgeries or the way her hair had returned darker after being shaved in pre-op. And no one would recognize her voice, which was now throatier-even sexier-thanks to her voice box also being damaged in the accident. But most of all she blamed the ten years that had passed so quickly since she’d left the small town nestled on the California coast.

“It’ll be okay,” she whispered. Stone, in spite of his inner toughness and sometimes blunt nature, was a gentleman at heart. No matter how much rage and resentment he’d built up against her-and she was certain there was plenty-his sense of decency and honor would prevail. He had a will of iron and a stubborn streak to go along with it, but regardless, Stone was honest to a fault.

Unlike her.

At the thought, the tears she’d been barely holding back began to fall.

Late that afternoon Stone flipped up the page on the calendar and drew a ragged breath as he reminded himself what he already knew.

Jenna’s birthday.

She’d be… He pretended to count. As though he’d forgotten it’d been ten years since he’d last laid eyes on her.