Maguire headed back, grabbed a blanket from an overhead bin and dropped into the oversize lounge chair closest to her. He considered turning on the tube, or switching on his computer, or opening his briefcase. Instead, he found himself staring at Carolina again.

Everything about her was soft. Skin. Hair. Mouth. There wasn’t a single hint of toughness in her.

He could well believe she’d risked her life to save his little brother, even though Tommy was a relative stranger to her. He could well believe she wouldn’t think, before leaping in, to help someone else.

He couldn’t imagine her being tough enough, resilient enough, to handle the pressure that had been heaped on her in the last two months. She’d never had the training for it, the upbringing that could have prepared her.

His father, so typically, had impulsively left her a gift that was supposed to be generous and wonderful. It would never have occurred to Gerald that he’d thrown a young woman into the deep end with no life raft in sight.

Maguire had to be the life raft.

There was no one else.

And that meant exactly what he’d told Henry. It didn’t matter, about her soft skin, or that silky blond hair. It didn’t matter that those small, perfect lips challenged a man to want to take them, to mold them, to see exactly what kind of passion might be awakened there. She was a sweet woman. A giver. Those were the facts Maguire already knew.

But whether there was more under that surface, he had to find out. Without touching her. Without harming her in any way.

No matter what it cost him.

Chapter Two

Carolina opened sleepy eyes and abruptly frowned. You’d think she had a wild love life, considering how many strange beds she’d woken up in lately.