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Chapter One

Spotlights flashed in rainbows across the stage. Red. Green. Blue. Crisscrossing until they merged into one white-hot light on Geoff Chastain's face, evoking memories of other times. The screams of thousands of teenaged girls washed through his memory as he pulled the microphone from its stand.

The first notes of his daughter's favorite song filled the auditorium and his breath caught, jagged, in his chest. Pain pulsed through Geoff's heart with each beat of the drum. He nearly dropped to his knees, longing to crawl back into the self-imposed exile where he had existed since his daughter died.

The faces of the kids in wheelchairs looked up at him with bright expectation. The whispers of the singers waiting in the stage wings curled around him in concern.

Daddy, promise you won't let the music die. His daughter's last request haunted Geoff. He never suspected life would become so desolate he would forget to eat and sleep, let alone lose touch with the music that had always flowed so easily from his soul.

A singer moved from the wings to stand beside him. Her presence drifted around him in silent encouragement. Her sweet contralto coaxed him to sing with her.

Focus, he ordered his brain, staring at the woman. Waves of auburn hair framed her face, then tumbled halfway down a lush body barely covered in spandex and sequins. A woman designed to stir a man to action.

Geoff's voice rasped with disuse on the first verse; the woman's harmony covered it. As he started the second verse, an image of his daughter swam before his eyes and Geoff's throat closed. The woman picked up the melody without missing a beat, as if they had planned this duet.

He grasped at her hand and drew a deep breath. Her soft scent filled his nostrils, drawing his attention away from the pain. Giving him the strength to dig deep inside where the music had lain in silent mourning.

Geoff's voice mingled with hers on the chorus, then soared as he soloed the third verse. Their voices chased each other through the final refrain, then their eyes met and held on the last triumphant note. Awed silence hung for a moment before applause erupted and the crowd was in motion.

A sea of well-wishers swarmed onto the stage. Not the frenzied near-riots of years ago, but the exuberant cheer of celebration. Smiles and congratulations wrapped warmly around Geoff as men pumped his hand and women kissed his cheek.

But the mysterious auburn-haired woman who saved his musical butt had disappeared.

* * *

Shannon Ausbrook ducked into the ladies lounge and locked herself in a stall. She leaned against the door as a hollow sense of déjà vu swept through her.

Why had she stepped up to the microphone with Geoff Chastain? He was a professional singer, not one of the kids in her therapy sessions who needed a champion to soothe the hard knocks that life had dealt out.

Yet Geoff's soul seemed shattered when she looked into the velvet brown depths of his eyes. She had felt the power of those eyes years before. When he touched her. Kissed her. Slipped off her clothes and took her virginity.

Shannon wrapped her arms protectively around her belly. She couldn't change the past by screwing up the future. She had learned her lesson with Geoff Chastain fifteen years ago. She wasn't going to repeat that mistake.

Shannon yanked open the stall door, nearly colliding with two women who had entered the restroom. Their whispers and laughter stopped as they stared at Shannon in speculation. She lifted her chin and strode to the sinks.

Behind her, the conversation of the women resumed. "Isn't Geoff Chastain still the sexiest thing you've ever seen?"

"I'd trade my first three husbands for one night with him." Laughter purred from the other woman.

Then the locks on their stalls clicked shut, muffling the women's comments.

A rock star will break your heart and go on to the next dozen girls without thinking twice, Shannon thought as an ache twisted in her chest.

And she was being ridiculous.

Everything that happened with Geoff was in the past. The painful emptiness had been filled by children who needed her skills. Children who would benefit from the music therapy program she could start with money from tonight's successful fundraiser.

After three years of promises from her boss at Talmidge Center for Children, Shannon's dream of using music therapy to help children heal was nearly a reality. Enduring a few painful memories was a small price to pay.

What did it matter? She would never see Geoff Chastain again. She could just shove the pain back down and go on with the course she had set for her life.

Just to be sure, she sneaked out the back door to the parking lot and took the back streets home.

Shannon didn't draw an easy breath until she pulled into the circular drive of the Victorian house she had inherited from her grandmother. Thanks to a half dozen how-to books and the guidance of a retired cabinetmaker in the neighborhood, Shannon was fulfilling Gram's dream of restoring the old house, including the lacy white gingerbread trim at the roofline and the porch planking that lay straight and true under several coats of weatherproof marine paint.

Shannon unlocked the front door to the impatient whuffs of her mostly Border Collie dog, Jasper. He bounced and circled around her, licking her hand and demanding his traditional welcome home treat. She automatically scratched his ears and handed him a dog biscuit.

"Oh, wow, what a night." Shannon dropped her purse on the kitchen counter, envisioning her grandmother baking cookies.

"The gingersnaps are piping hot." Gram pushed at a wispy white curl with the back of her mitted hand. With her face glowing rosy and moist from the heat, she closed the oven door and eyed Shannon closely. "You're looking a little peaked, girl. Be sure to drink that whole glass of milk."

Since she was a child, this house had been her refuge. Shannon retreated to the shelter of her grandmother's love when she fought with her parents, when her pride was bruised, when she hurt so bad it seemed nothing could ease the pain.

Gram would understand. Gram could make anything better with cookies hot out of the oven and a dose of practical advice. Well, everything except the night Shannon met Geoff Chastain.

From a corner of the hotel suite, Shannon stared in awe. Chandeliers dripped from the arched ceiling, glittering with reflected laughter. She didn't know anyone here, except Lauren and her boyfriend, who had disappeared nearly half an hour ago.

In a niche by the fake fireplace, Shannon could watch Geoff Chastain without seeming to stare. Since he entered the room, people flowed constantly around him. Jocular, laughing men and flirtatious women.

A dozen steps, Shannon told herself. Geoff is only a dozen steps away. Yet no amount of swallowing could lessen the dryness in Shannon's mouth. What if she couldn't talk when she met Geoff? What if she just stood there with her front teeth stuck to her lips?

Do it now, Shannon ordered herself. But with two steps, her courage faltered.

Shannon pressed her fingertips to her temples. Whatever it took, she would not revisit the past. One sure way to drown out the memories was physical activity. Shannon changed into an old pair of jeans and a baggy sweatshirt, then fetched a crowbar out of the tool shed.

Upstairs, a circular turret crowned the second story of the Victorian house. As a young child, Shannon had played within these stained plaster walls. As a teenager, she came here to dream, pulling aside the faded brocade draperies to stare at the half-circle of stars around her.

Tonight's mission wasn't quite so fanciful.

Shannon slammed the iron bar through a section of cracked plaster, and set about purging Geoff Chastain from her life once again.

The sun had crested the horizon before Shannon paused to survey the piles of crumbled plaster. She stretched and breathed deeply, letting her mind race with plans for refinishing the room. A soft rose color on the walls would set off the solid oak moldings around the floor-to-ceiling windows framing a semicircular view of the city. Unfortunately, a hundred and twenty years of paint had to be stripped away from the moldings to find their original beauty.

"Hey, Jasper, why don't you go start the coffee while I clean up?" Shannon scratched the dog's ears. Training her dog to push the start button on her coffeemaker with his nose had been a stroke of genius. Of course, she could use the automatic timer, but Jasper seemed so pleased with himself that Shannon didn't have the heart to take that task away from him.

As Shannon walked toward the bathroom, the chime of the doorbell brought her to an abrupt halt. No one paid a social call this early in the morning. Something must be wrong.

Shannon dashed down the stairs and threw open the door.

* * *

Geoff stood on the white-railed, wraparound porch of the Victorian house where Shannon Ausbrook lived.

Where memories had driven him.

Their mutual friend, Lauren Westover, was his ticket to seeing Shannon again. Years ago, Lauren had brought Shannon to a backstage party and into Geoff's life. Last night, for the second time, Lauren brought Geoff and Shannon together.

However, judging by her disappearance last night, Shannon didn't seem eager to see him again, Geoff thought wryly.

"I'm sure she's home." Lauren knocked loudly on the old wooden door.

The morning sun threw its golden rays across the glossy surface of the porch to glitter on the oval stained glass inset of the door. The old house seemed to glow with loving care.

Why didn't Shannon have a husband and children of her own to fill this big house? Geoff wondered. According to Lauren, Shannon poured all her energy into the lives of the children in her physical therapy sessions and the pursuit of funding for a music therapy program.

The promise of funding landed Shannon on stage with Geoff last night. She had assembled a group of friends to sing a medley of his band's hit songs. Luckily for Geoff, she knew the words and harmony to the NightHawke song he had choked on.

A dog barked inside the house and footsteps hurried down the stairs, curling anticipation in Geoff's belly.

When she turned from the window, only skimpy lace covered the lush fullness of her breasts; covered but didn't hide the swollen nipples that strained against the delicate fabric. She seemed hesitant at first, but leaned eagerly into his caresses with little encouragement. Then she urged him on with quick movements of her hands across his body--

The door swung open to reveal a white-dusted apparition, not the arousing woman of Geoff's memories.

Geoff's gaze traveled from the well-worn work boots and thread-bare jeans to an oversized gray sweatshirt that fell to mid-thigh. The woman bore little resemblance to the auburn-haired goddess who sang with Geoff last night, except for the startled gaze in her eyes, warning Shannon might bolt away at any second.

"May we come in?" Lauren asked.

Reluctantly, it seemed, Shannon stepped aside.

"What are you doing?" Lauren indicated Shannon's baggy, dust-covered clothing.

"Um, remodeling."

"At this hour of the morning?" Lauren glanced at the grandfather clock in the hallway.

"I do my best work at this time." Shannon yawned and rubbed a fist over her eyes.

Suspicion rose in Geoff's mind that Shannon did not go to bed last night. Smudges of sleeplessness underlined her red-rimmed eyes and the shoulders under her sweatshirt sagged. Empathy tugged unexpectedly at Geoff's heart.

"Jasper fixed a pot of coffee. Do you want to join me for a cup?" Shannon asked.

"Jasper is the dog," Lauren whispered to Geoff.

"Ah." She's so tired she doesn't know what she's saying, Geoff thought. But when they arrived in the kitchen, a black dog with white and tan markings stood with his paws on the counter by the coffeemaker. Shannon patted his head and gave him a treat. The mutt looked at Geoff and seemed to grin.

Geoff blinked and focused on the dog once more. The canine sat on a rug watching attentively while Shannon filled his food dish. Just like any ordinary dog.

"What are you remodeling?" Lauren asked.

"The turret on the second floor." Shannon set the dog dish on the floor for Jasper.

"Have you ever done remodeling before?" Geoff watched Shannon curiously. He was fascinated by the change from vamp to dusty laborer with a most unusual dog.

"Most of the house has been redone since my grandmother died."

"Did it help?" Geoff asked.

Shannon's gaze swung to Geoff, making a connection in his heart and stirring a yearning in his gut.

"Pardon me?"

"Did remodeling this house help you grieve for your grandmother?" Geoff forced himself to meet Shannon's searching gaze.

The green in her eyes dominated this morning, nearly eclipsing the narrow brown circle at the center of her hazel eyes. He remembered how her eyes glowed with the fiery green of emeralds when he touched the silken moistness of her skin.

Slowly, she nodded. "Yes, eventually the physical labor eased the emotional pain. Gram talked of restoring this house. It seemed a tribute to her to finish her dream."

The ring of Lauren's cell phone prevented Geoff from questioning Shannon further. Perhaps losing a grandparent wasn't the same as losing a child. How could Shannon stay in this house surrounded by memories of her grandmother? For Geoff, memories of Mandy made the pain worse.

"My son." Lauren clicked off her cell phone with a sigh. "Matt can't find his white shirt for the audition. And he only has one shoe and socks with holes. Shannon, would you take Geoff to the airport? I know it's silly and Matt really could do this on his own, but do you mind?"

The stunned expression on Shannon's face shouldn't have bothered Geoff. Plenty of other women still found him attractive. Of course, he rarely took advantage of that attraction any more.

Without waiting for an answer, Lauren dashed for the door. "Thanks, Shannon. I really appreciate this."

The thud of the front door closing emphasized the silence that hung between Geoff and Shannon. They stared at each other, frozen in memories of the past.

At last, Shannon inched sideways toward the stairs. "Do I have time for a quick shower before your flight?"

"No problem." When she returned, maybe she wouldn't look at him like something her dog dragged in. Maybe a spark of desire would dance in her eyes. Maybe Geoff would have his fantasies under control.

Alone with the dog, Geoff carried his coffee cup to the sink and washed it. Had Shannon laid the cream-colored tile countertops herself? Did she spend hours sanding and staining the kitchen cabinets the same bleached oak as the wooden floors stretching throughout the house?

Creamy white walls provided a perfect backdrop for the playful wallpaper of dogs, cats, and birdhouses in the kitchen. That same pattern was repeated in rugs tossed informally on the floor that led to the parlor. A reflection of Shannon's love for her own pet? Geoff wondered.

In the parlor, a bank of windows opened the entire back wall to a lush jungle of greenery and flowers. Children's drawings lined the opposite wall from floor to ceiling, reminding Geoff of Mandy's early artwork adorning the walls at home. A momentary urge to tear the drawings down and shred them flashed and died in quick succession. Destroying another child's mementoes wouldn't bring Mandy back.

Geoff's fingers touched the childish circles and lines. An alien spaceship with the name Bobby on it. A baseball sketch drawn by Ryan. A little girl named Christy in a pink tutu. A different name autographed each drawing. Obviously the kids in Shannon's therapy sessions returned her loving care.

* * *

Shannon stepped under the steaming blast of the shower.

Geoff Chastain was past history. He did not exist in her life. He meant nothing to Shannon.

He was in her house.

Her fingers trembled as she soaped a cloth and smeared it over her body. The man affected her as badly as when she had been a star-struck teenager. All those years ago, in borrowed clothes and a year's worth of make-up, it was little wonder Geoff thought she was more experienced in the ways of love. That was her intent. She wanted to be sophisticated and impress him.

She had wanted to seduce him.

Shannon hurried down a shadowy corridor, pushing against several doors before finding one that swung open. She slipped inside and stood for a moment.

This is silly, she chided herself, and cowardly. Since when had Shannon Ausbrook been afraid of anything? Shannon nibbled her thumb and frowned. Since hormones had reduced her to a state of quivering confusion, that's when. If this was what happened to grown-ups, Shannon wasn't sure she wanted to pass that milepost.

As her eyes adjusted to the partial darkness, she looked around the room. Moonlight spilled through the window, casting shadows across the plush carpet.

The room appeared unoccupied, although several items of clothing were slung carelessly over the furniture. Shannon shrugged off her jacket and draped it over a striped chair near a man's coat. It felt so good to be free of the restrictive clothing that she slipped out of her shoes and wiggled her toes into the deep pile of the carpet.

A bathroom should be nearby. As she stepped into a shadowy doorway, she stubbed her toe. Shannon bit back a shriek as she rubbed her foot. The object didn't move, so she assumed it was not a living, biting thing. Cautiously, Shannon reached downward. Her fingers met smooth, cool material.

When she lifted it, she realized it was a boot, tall and black, just like the ones Geoff Chastain wore on stage.

Shannon swallowed. From her position in the doorway, she saw a ruffle of white against the fabric of the couch. A few steps in that direction confirmed it was the shirt Geoff had worn, still slightly damp and smelling of masculine energy.

Clutching the shirt to her breast did nothing to calm the rapid beating of her heart. The touch of the fabric Geoff so recently wore had the opposite effect, as if the man himself touched her breast.

Quickly, Shannon removed the shirt from her flushed skin and placed it back on the couch. She realized that Geoff had walked here; Geoff had undressed here. The room was becoming unbearably warm. Or was it only her? Shannon unbuttoned the top buttons of her blouse and walked toward the window. The air against her heated skin felt like a cool spring breeze. Shannon leaned against the sill and breathed deeply.

"Are you comfortable?" His quiet voice hit her jittery nerves like pebbles against a window. Shannon spun around and gasped. Geoff Chastain stood silhouetted in moonlight, regarding her with a half-smile. Geoff's gaze flickered from her head to her toes, returning to rest at the gaping vee of her blouse.

Shannon fumbled at the buttons in a vain attempt at modesty as she wondered if the extra mascara and blush she applied for tonight had stayed in place.

Geoff moved toward her with the grace and stealth of a jungle cat. Closer and closer until his hand stilled the jerky movements of her fingers.

"What a pleasant surprise." He raised his other hand toward her, gently lifting a strand of her hair to his lips.

Shannon slid her tongue over parched lips. Not a single clever comment came to mind as Geoff leaned closer, his musky scent blurring the function of her brain.

The soapy cloth moved in tantalizing circles over Shannon's breasts, recreating the sensual friction of Geoff's hands long ago--

"What am I doing?" Shannon tossed the cloth away from her and cranked the water to cold.

After a frigid rinsing, she flipped off the water with a decisive twist of her wrist.

She would not relive the foolish dreams of a sixteen-year-old who fancied herself in love with a rock star. Even more ridiculous, she believed she could make Geoff love her simply by having sex with him.

If that was true, most of the male student body at her high school would have loved her. Humiliation flushed Shannon's skin at the memory. When her tryst with Geoff became public, nearly every guy in school propositioned Shannon. Even guys she once considered friends figured she would be an easy lay. They didn't care where: under the bleachers, in a restroom stall, against a locker while other kids hurried to the next class.

And all the girls hated her.

Fortunately, Shannon only had to endure a few months of this torment before graduation and college in another city. But the memories jaded her view of men. She rarely dated in college and earned the nickname of "Ice Princess," which she much preferred to some of the names her high school peers had called her.

Occasionally Shannon wondered if another man could ever stir her blood and make her heart race the way Geoff Chastain did fifteen years ago. The way he still did today.

She had to get rid of him.

In less than fifteen minutes, Shannon clattered back down the stairs. Dressed in baggy slacks and another sloppy sweatshirt, she wore no make-up and had hastily captured her mane of hair into a braid. "Are you ready to go?"

Geoff turned from her wall of drawings to stare at her. Shannon resisted the urge to smooth her hair or check to see if all buttons were buttoned and zippers zipped.

"I can catch a later flight." Geoff's thousand-megawatt grin turned her bones to jelly and sent flashes of panic to her barely functioning brain. He had to leave her house. Now!

"Is there somewhere I can drop you?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Shannon wished she could snatch them back. Her mother would be horrified at Shannon's rudeness.

"I could just hang out here?"

No! Not an option. "I've really got a lot to do." Shannon figured the coffee would get her to the airport and back. After that, her sleepless night would catch up with her and she would be a jittery, blithering idiot--worse than now. She needed sleep, but couldn't sleep with Geoff nearby. Being horizontal anywhere near him was inviting heavenly trouble.

"I thought I'd stay in Portland a bit longer."

"I'll take you to a hotel." She grabbed his duffel bag and nearly ran out the door.

Geoff caught up to her in several long strides. "I can carry that."

Their fingers and their gazes touched briefly as Geoff took the bag and hefted it over his shoulder. Shame pricked Shannon's conscience with a chant of rude, rude, rude. She drowned out the niggling voice with a desperate excuse of self-preservation.

All the way downtown, Shannon studiously avoided making eye contact with Geoff or speaking. As soon as he stepped out of the car at the hotel, she sped off down the street--with his bag of belongings in the back of her car.

* * *

Baffled, Geoff watched the taillights of Shannon's car. Okay, so they had some history. And perhaps his lovemaking technique with her fifteen years ago could have used some finesse. So what did she want from him? Nothing, apparently, judging by her reaction.

Fine. One more stop in Portland, then he'd catch a plane home. And perhaps she would find a way to get his bag to him.

Geoff walked slowly through the streets of Northeast Portland. The city had changed in the twenty years since he had haunted this area as a young teenager.

Gangs weren't so much in evidence now. Houses that had once been left to decay sported a fresh coat of paint or a new porch. There were still pockets of neglect, still questionable characters on occasional street corners, but overall the neighborhood reflected the pride of new ownership.

And old friends, Geoff thought, as he stood in front of the red brick building that housed Cisco's Mexican restaurant. Few patrons knew when they walked inside that they were in one of the most secure buildings in the city. Celebrities and other VIPs slipped in and out without notice through a network of tunnels underneath. Inside, some of the seemingly ordinary booths were bulletproof cages with trap doors leading to the tunnels.

Today, Geoff chose to walk through the front door. A three-hundred-pound man with biceps the size of small trees sized up Geoff through narrowed eyes.

As a skinny fifteen-year-old, Geoff had washed dishes here for minimum wage plus access to the piano during off-hours. During those lean years, Cisco's owner, Kingston SanRegis, had been more of a father to Geoff than his old man or any of a series of foster parents ever thought of being. Geoff never complained when his backside was too bruised to take his break sitting down, but Kingston seemed to know. Geoff never said he hadn't eaten since the day before, but Kingston always insisted Geoff start each shift with a decent meal.

"Would you ask the owner if he could use a good dishwasher?" Geoff addressed the bouncer.

The large man's expression didn't change as he looked Geoff over from head to toe. Then he nodded and disappeared. Seconds later, a booming voice preceded the appearance of another huge man. "Geoff Chastain, is that you?"

Kingston SanRegis caught Geoff up in a bear hug, his ebony face animated by a delighted grin. "Where have you been, boy, that you haven't come to see your old friend in so many years?"

Geoff could have protested that he occasionally called, but the older man was right. Geoff hadn't been back in Portland for many, many years.

"Come. Sit down. We will prepare your favorites--on the house." With one beefy arm wrapped around Geoff's shoulders, Kingston led him to a private booth where they spent the next hour rehashing old times and devouring a feast of burritos, chips and salsa.

"What are you doing in Portland, my friend?" Kingston eyed Geoff closely.

Running away from the pain of Mandy's death. Following an odd, nagging need to sort out the past and lay it to rest. Hoping that I can find something useful to do with the future. Why was it so difficult to share his thoughts with his old friend?

Geoff gazed around the restaurant to avoid Kingston's probing gaze. A familiar figure sauntered into view. Without the baggy sweatshirt, the generous curves of Shannon's upper torso were lusciously outlined in a body-hugging knit shirt. She didn't run from the warm greeting of the bouncer who had frowned at Geoff's arrival. Geoff swallowed, trying to calm his body's reaction. "Does she come here often?"

Kingston followed Geoff's gaze to where Shannon stood. The older man's hand on Geoff's arm held a warning and at the same time took some of the sting out of his words. "Sometimes the past is better left undisturbed."

Geoff stared at Shannon for a moment longer. Wondering--wishing-- "You're right. I need to get going."

"Next time, don't stay away so long," Kingston said.

Geoff paused in the doorway to watch Kingston greet Shannon. The older man casually dropped his arm across Shannon's shoulders, then said something that made her smile.

Ah, hell, Geoff thought. A fool's dream.

He pushed through the door and out onto the sidewalk, automatically scanning the area around him. Being on the road for so many years with a security-conscious bodyguard had honed his instincts for trouble. Not that he always avoided it; he just knew what he was getting into.

When Shannon left the restaurant, Geoff watched her walk toward a disreputable, beat-up pick-up. The vehicle was definitely a change from the late model sedan she drove this morning on their trip to the hotel. Perhaps she had a boyfriend after all. But she slid into the driver's seat beside the furry black dog.

The mutt sniffed the brown paper bag she held as she cautioned him to be patient. With her window rolled down, Geoff heard Shannon talking to the dog. She handed him a hunk of burrito and admonished the dog to chew and not just swallow.

Not paying the least attention, the dog wolfed down his food. Barely three bites into her own burrito, the dog turned his full attention to Shannon's food. He scooted closer and closer on the seat until Geoff could imagine saliva dripping onto Shannon's leg. She gently scolded him and the dog subsided a couple inches. Finally, Shannon broke off a chunk of the nearly foot long burrito and gave it to the dog.

Instead of nipping her fingers as Geoff feared, the dog delicately took the proffered bite. Shannon placed the empty wrappers in the bag and hugged the dog, then snapped on her seatbelt and turned the ignition.

Nothing.

She tried it again. Still nothing. Geoff drifted closer, wondering if Shannon noticed the two kids across the street watching her.

"Car trouble?"

Shannon's hand flew to her throat. "I left you at the hotel."

Geoff shrugged. "I needed some exercise. Do you want me to start this old pick-up for you?"

A vee of doubt appeared between Shannon's brows.

"I knew how to hot-wire a car by the time I was eight," Geoff said.

"That's not necessarily a good recommendation."

"It's come in handy on occasion. Are you willing to take a chance?"

Her gaze roamed over his face for a moment. Although doubt remained in her eyes, she agreed. "Be my guest."

Within a minute, Geoff had the old pick-up running. Losing my touch, he thought. The cops would have been there already in the old days.

Geoff straightened from under the hood and walked to Shannon's window. She stared at him, seemed to consider something, then simply said, "Thank you."

Disappointed, Geoff watched her drive away. Well, hell, he thought as she turned the corner. Three strikes and you're out. She was still running from him. He should be glad she was gone.

Two steps later, the rumble of an old eight-cylinder engine stopped beside him and a sultry female voice called out, "Have you ever done any remodeling?"

Chapter Two

Shannon meant to leave Geoff standing on the street. Really she did.

One last look in the rearview mirror destroyed all her good intentions. Geoff stood with one foot in the street, the other braced against the curb. With his thumbs hooked in the belt loops of his jeans, he watched her drive away. He looked as confused as Shannon felt. The past held only pain. So why couldn't she just let it go?

Shannon circled the block and pulled to a stop beside Geoff. In answer to her question about remodeling, he climbed into the old blue truck beside her dog, grinning as if he had just been offered a piece of heaven.

What did he expect of her? she wondered as she pulled into traffic. Considering their history, the answer didn't take much thought. Once more, Shannon had jumped into a situation with her emotions rather than her brain. It was familiar territory. With a sigh, Shannon pulled into the circular drive in front of the Victorian and turned off the engine.

"Regret coming back for me already?" Geoff's chocolate brown eyes regarded Shannon intently.

She stared at him for a long moment, battling her own conflicting emotions. "I'll pay you for your help this afternoon. In cash, I mean, not...in other ways."

Geoff's left eyebrow quirked up.

"If that's not okay, I'll take you back to the hotel."

"I won't be staying there." Geoff pushed open the pick-up door and stepped to the ground.

The dog jumped out as Shannon rounded the pick-up to confront Geoff. "So we agree on the terms, right?"

A half-smile curved Geoff's lips. "Let's just see what develops."

Geoff hoisted a couple pieces of sheetrock out of the back of the pick-up and carried them toward the house, leaving Shannon staring at his backside. She swallowed hard as she watched the saunter of muscle beneath his well-worn jeans. Closing her eyes for a moment, she prayed for restraint. She didn't need to remodel her house to purge the past; she needed the physical release to keep herself out of trouble in the here and now. Grabbing a box of nails, Shannon hurried to unlock the door.

Except for a brief exchange of instructions of who would lift the sheetrock into place and who would nail, Geoff and Shannon didn't speak. But with every swing of her hammer, Shannon felt Geoff's presence. As he held the sheetrock, the muscles of his upper arms bulged against the fabric of his T-shirt. As he squatted to cut a fitted piece around the window frame, his jeans stretched tight across his thighs.

By late afternoon, all that remained were the narrow pieces above the curved bank of windows and the crumbling ruins of Shannon's self-control.

"I'll steady the ladder while you nail this into place." Geoff handed Shannon a precut piece of sheetrock.

Only a foot wide and four feet long, the chunk of wallboard was smaller than many Shannon had handled. Yet her fingers felt as thick as the handle of the hammer. The sheetrock tilted and slipped.

Geoff caught it easily. "Do you want me to finish this part?"

Disgusted with her clumsiness, Shannon shook her head.

"This won't take long." Geoff offered encouragement as his hands clasped Shannon's thighs to steady her on the ladder.

His touch had the opposite effect, turning Shannon's knees weaker than the gooey spackle they would soon be using to seal the cracks between the sheetrock.

Shannon tried to ignore the heat flooding through her body and focus her attention on the broad-headed nail she held between her thumb and forefinger. Only six nails and she would be done.

One. Two. She stretched to pound in the third nail and Geoff's grip tightened slightly in response. Four. She gritted her teeth and leaned farther, bringing another tightening of Geoff's steadying grip. Sparks of awareness shot up Shannon's legs. She closed her eyes and swung the hammer...straight into her thumb. "Damn!"

"Are you alright?" Geoff lifted Shannon off the ladder and into the circle of his arms.

Heat surrounded her, totally destroying any coherent thought Shannon might have possessed. As her feet gently touched the floor, she held her thumb up for Geoff to examine. He took it gently in both hands and brought it to his lips. The velvet soft caress of Geoff's lips against Shannon's fingers would have brought her to her knees had she not been leaning against his body for support.

"Why?" A moment passed before Geoff's whispered question registered in Shannon's befuddled brain. "All those years ago, why were you in my hotel room?"

Thunder pounded in Shannon's veins as Geoff gently tugged at her hair twined in his fingers. "A kiss before you go?"

Had she heard him correctly? Geoff Chastain wanted to kiss her? He stood close enough that his breath drifted in caressing waves across her face. With a slight turn, Shannon could touch the half-smile lifting one corner of his mouth.

She might be shaking like a rookie facing a major league pitcher, but Geoff's invitation restored her moxie. Shannon wouldn't pass up this once-in-a-lifetime chance. She tilted her head to bring their lips into contact. The jolt from Geoff's caress exploded through Shannon's body, energizing then draining every nerve ending. Geoff cupped her head in his hands and angled his mouth across hers, deepening the kiss. Shannon trembled against him, her fingers tangling in his shirt.

The soft mat of hair against her palms contrasted with the sculpted muscles of Geoff's chest. His musky masculine scent surrounded her, seeped into her pores, and made her head swim. Touching Geoff was beyond her wildest imaginings.

Shivers of indefinable need racked her body. A jumpy-raw yearning she couldn't control. What if she did something wrong? What if she didn't please him?

What a fool she had been. Shannon stiffened in Geoff's arms and turned away. "It was just a childish dream."

"You didn't act like a child. You were beautiful."

Every movement of Geoff's body beckoned to the sensual side of Shannon that she had ignored for so long. She wanted to have wild, hot sex with Geoff and damn the consequences.

"So beautiful."

But his words echoed in her memory, reminding her how easily this man could touch her emotions and walk away.

Shannon gathered her self-restraint. A pizza and a check for his labor this afternoon, she told herself, then she would send him on his way. "I'll order a pizza."

With only a long questioning look, Geoff picked up a hammer and climbed the ladder, muscles contracting and releasing against the denim of his jeans.

Shannon forced her gaze away from Geoff's backside.

Order the pizza, she told herself. Pay him off and make a good, clean break with her heart intact. Before the subject of their past came up again.

Half an hour later, Geoff and Shannon sat cross-legged on the floor in the parlor, eating take-out pizza and drinking cream soda.

As the last piece of pizza disappeared, Geoff leaned back against the windowsill. "How can you live in your grandmother's house with reminders of her everywhere?"

"Being surrounded with Gram's things was all that kept me sane in the first few months after she died."

Geoff shook his head sadly. "I haunted the places my daughter loved. I slept in her bed. I even cuddled her stuffed animals. Nothing eased the pain."

Sadness and empathy arrowed through Shannon. She was not the only one who had lost someone she loved. Not the only one who struggled with grief. "When did your daughter die?"

"Two years ago the night of the fundraiser."

The pain in Geoff's eyes tore at Shannon's heart. "I'm sorry...so sorry."

"I promised her..." He paused and closed his eyes. His voice, when he spoke, was a whisper. "I promised Mandy I wouldn't let the music die. That I would finish her dream of sharing music with other kids. But I couldn't. Not until last night..." Geoff's anguished eyes sought answers in Shannon's.

"It's only been two years." Shannon took Geoff's hands in her own, hoping to convey some measure of comfort. "Grieving takes time."

"How long before I forget?"

"You don't forget." Shannon squeezed Geoff's hands. "You remember the joy, the laughter, the tears."

"I couldn't cry. Not then. Not since."

Shannon touched Geoff's face. "Give yourself permission to grieve in your own way and your own time, not how someone else thinks you should feel."

Geoff pushed to his feet and paced the room, pausing occasionally to touch a child's drawing or a portrait on the piano.

Shannon didn't interrupt. She quietly gathered the containers from the pizza and soda and took them to the kitchen.

When she returned to the parlor, Geoff sat at the old upright piano that held a crowded collection of family portraits on its top. Not wanting to intrude, Shannon settled on a chair and watched.

Geoff touched the keys, cool and smooth beneath his fingers. He closed his eyes. "Hit that chord again, will you, Geoff?" The microphone blasted the sound across the auditorium. "That's perfect."

For so many years, music had been Geoff's life. Music had saved him from being just another troublemaker; had entertained his daughter through years of sickness and surgery. Geoff's fingers settled on the keyboard. It had been so long. Music didn't come easily after Mandy died, as if grief tore out the part of him that created. Oh, he tried. He hoped music would ease the pain as it always had. But it wouldn't come. And eventually he didn't try any more.

Until last night when a little boy with eyes that reminded him of Mandy's begged, "Sing me a song."

Geoff's hands moved across the keyboard, seeking permission to renew an old friendship. Seeking that place deep inside where the music was born.

Gradually, the notes became surer; the strokes bolder. A feeling of contentment washed through Geoff as his hands moved now without hesitation, drawing a hauntingly romantic melody from the old instrument. Geoff moved from one song to another without pausing. The music flowed. Unstoppable. Old and new, new and old. His fingers tingled from their contact with the ivory. The notes wove into a ballad, sad at first, then growing and rushing, finally lilting with joy at the end.

Geoff dropped his hands into his lap. He felt...odd. Like the old days when songs flowed without effort. He could write drunk or dead tired, standing in the men's john or lying in the most luxurious suite.

Or with Shannon in his arms. Geoff stared at Shannon, sitting cross-legged on the overstuffed chair, and remembered her at sixteen.

"Mmm. You inspire me." Geoff led Shannon to the couch, settled her between his legs and reached for a keyboard. His arms circled her as fingers drifted across the keys, creating a melody that soothed and hypnotized.

"You were my first love..." Geoff sang softly, tickling the sensitive skin near her ear with his words. "The perfect angel I'd always waited for..."

Geoff had taken his gift of music--and the gift of Shannon's innocent love--for granted.

Did he have the courage to rediscover music and reclaim Shannon's love?

Damn, he was going to try.

Focused on Shannon, Geoff's fingers began forming notes into music; blending chords into harmony.

Over the next several hours, Shannon listened with growing awe, caught up in the melodies that whispered and coaxed, demanded and provoked.

The grandfather clock in the hall was striking midnight when Geoff stood and stretched his muscles. "I used to do this all night. Until Mandy died."

"And the music seemed to die with her."

Geoff nodded. "Others thought I should jump right back into music. I didn't even know what day it was, let alone know a C sharp from an A flat. Toward the end, we had a lot of machines in her room and the sound was somehow comforting. I knew she was still alive if the machines were humming. Then afterward...the silence seemed to drive the pain deeper. At two or three in the morning, I turned on the TV to these old black and white movies with scratchy soundtracks. It was noise, you know."

"I know."

Geoff reached for Shannon's hand; held it tight. "How am I going to live without my Mandy?"

"One moment, one hour, one day at a time, as best you can." Shannon squeezed Geoff's hand.

"Some days I don't think I'm going to make it..." Geoff's voice cracked.

Shannon tugged him down beside her. "You'll make it. Somehow, the strength will come."

"Why the innocent ones? She was sweet and funny and wise. She was my life. And now she's gone."

The heart-wrenching despair of Geoff's tears soaked into Shannon's shirt and seeped into her heart. The thought occurred to her that he would understand how she felt about the baby lost so many years ago. Comforted by that realization, Shannon fell asleep cradling Geoff's head against her shoulder.

* * *

The sound of the doorbell echoed distantly. Shannon sighed and snuggled closer to the source of warmth surrounding her. With a deep breath, she inhaled the musky scent of a man.

Geoff.

Her eyes opened slowly as a smile spread across her face. Then the knocking started again at the door, nearly matching the rapid beat of her heart as Shannon lay tangled in Geoff's arms.

"Good morning." The husky murmur of Geoff's voice drifted across her cheek.

Shannon considered ignoring the visitor at the door in favor of pursuing the invitation in Geoff's gaze, but the knocks sounded once more; two fast and three slow raps. The signal Shannon taught her best friend's children. She had totally forgotten her promise to Julia Cabot and her three-year-old twins to go with them to the zoo today.

With a smile of apology at Geoff, Shannon hoisted herself out of the chair.

As she opened the door, two pint-sized blonde-haired children tumbled inside, wrapping their arms around her knees. A quick glance at Julia in scarf and sunglasses shot alarm through Shannon. Still, she forced her voice to be cheerful for the twins' sake. "Hey, come on in."

Shannon shepherded Julia and her two children inside, then scanned the street for strange cars before she closed the door and locked it. As she turned, she nearly ran into Julia, who stood frozen at the sight of Geoff standing in the kitchen pouring a cup of coffee.

Julia must think Geoff and I spent the night together, Shannon thought. And we did...but not exactly. We didn't sleep together. Well, actually, we did. But that's all we did--sleep. Darn it. I mean that's a good thing, right?

Shannon pasted a this-day-is-just-like-any-other-day smile on her face and scooted past Julia. "Julia, this is Geoff Chastain. Geoff, this is Dr. Julia Cabot and her children, Abraham and Angelina."

"We're going to the zoo today," Angelina announced.

"After breakfast with Aunt Shannon," Abraham added.

"We can do this some other time," Julia said.

Going to the zoo with a child was such an ordinary, easy thing to do, Geoff thought. Something most people took for granted.

Shannon turned to him and smiled. Her lips moved, but Geoff didn't comprehend what she said. Her gentle touch on his arm and the worried look in her eyes triggered enough grasp of his senses to decline her invitation to accompany them to the zoo. But he did need a ride to the airport.

The chatter of little voices mingled with Shannon's earnest reactions as Julia drove them toward the airport in her old Volvo. Geoff wished he sat in back beside Shannon and held her hand, garnering her undivided attention as the two children did. He contented himself with listening to her voice, remembering the feel of waking up this morning holding her in his arms.

They stood awkwardly in the loading zone at the airport until finally Shannon thrust out her hand. Confusion clouded her eyes. If things had been different, he would have swept her into his arms and kissed her long and hard. If things had been different, perhaps they wouldn't be saying good-bye.

The irritated blast of a car horn jolted them back to the hustle and impatience of a crowded city. Geoff loosened his grip on Shannon's hand and she backed toward the car. She waved as they pulled into traffic. Soon the car rounded a corner and Geoff could see her no more.

Loneliness settled around Geoff like the clouds blocking the April sun. Seeing Shannon triggered painful memories, but also brought a sense of hope for the first time since Mandy died. He came to Portland looking for a reason to live. Could Shannon be that reason?

A cab pulled to the curb. As its passengers alit, Geoff slid inside. With a smile of satisfaction, he asked the driver to take him to the zoo.

* * *

The zoo nestled within the four hundred acres of Portland's Washington Park, which also included the International Rose Test Gardens. Douglas fir trees dotted the landscape, towering reminders of the forests that once covered the landscape as far as the eye could see. On this day, the April sun played peek-a-boo with clouds tossed across the spring sky by playful winds.

Through the admission gates and past the mountain goats, the twins led Shannon and Julia onto the suspension bridge that led to Black Bear Ridge. As they reached the other side, Shannon noticed a man in a trench coat and stocking hat watching the twins. Or at least she thought he was watching the twins. It was hard to tell behind the sunglasses he wore.

Shannon was taking no chances. She hustled Abraham and Angelina deep into the exhibit, as far away from the man as possible. When she looked up again, he was gone.

"What are you doing?" Julia asked quietly.

Shannon looked over her shoulder. "That man. He looked familiar--sort of, but not really."

The bears were in a playful mood. While the cubs dangled their paws in the water, one of the adult males stood on its hind legs and bellowed at the crowd.

Beyond the bears stood the man in the trench coat.

"There he is again," Shannon whispered.

"In the oat-cay and at-hay?" Julia answered.

"Whose coat and hat?" Angelina asked.

Julia frowned.

"Sorry," Shannon said. "We were bored one afternoon and I taught them Pig Latin."

Shannon waited until the bears caught the twins' attention again. Then she whispered to Julia, "I'm going to talk to security."

Julia grabbed Shannon's arm. "No." Abraham and Angelina turned toward their mother with puzzled looks on their faces. "We haven't seen the elephants yet. Why don't we go there next?"

"I don't want trouble," Julia mouthed to Shannon.

The comment made Shannon wonder what Julia's husband was involved in. A lawyer could come into contact with some pretty shady characters. Julia let slip something about a couple of seedy bars she pulled Dan out of in recent weeks. But right now, she was more concerned with whoever was following them. Shannon lagged behind Julia and the twins as she dug through her purse. Her fingers closed around a cool metal cylinder. If the guy tried anything here, he would be washing pepper spray out of his eyes.

At the elephant house, the zoo was celebrating Packy the Elephant's birthday with two giant cakes. One was made of hay for Packy, the other of chocolate and icing for the zoo's visitors. Shannon assured Angelina and Abraham she would get the biggest pieces with the most frosting for them.

As Shannon stood in line, she spotted Mr. Trench coat moving toward Julia. A smiling attendant handed Shannon two huge pieces of cake and a cup of punch. Not knowing what else to do with them, Shannon carried the refreshments with her as she trotted toward her friends. When the man was within five feet of Julia and the twins, Shannon broke into a run.

"No!" she shouted. "Leave them alone!"

The man spun around just as Shannon launched herself at him, cake and punch aimed directly at his head.

"Aagh." The man ducked and tried to cover his head. In the process, his hat came off and his sunglasses fell onto the ground.

Shannon froze in stunned surprise.

Chapter Three

"Geoff, I'm really, really sorry." Shannon knelt beside Geoff and tried to wipe the frosting off his face with a tissue.

"I think this will work better if I do it myself," Geoff said, gently lifting her hand away from his jaw.

"I'm sorry." Shannon picked up his sunglasses and wiped at them with the tissue, smearing the gooey frosting even more.

Geoff plucked them from her fingers. "I'll, uh, take care of those too."

"I'm--"

"I know, you're sorry," Geoff said. "I'll go wash up."

The restroom mirror presented a laughable image, reminding Geoff of a badly made-up clown staring out of eyes smudged with red and blue. His hair escaped the worst of the frosting, protected by the stocking hat. His shirt, though, was going to take some heavy duty laundering.

Geoff stripped off the shirt and set to washing away the frosting. Okay, so it was a bad idea to sneak around after Shannon. He must be losing his touch since the old days when he and his bodyguard could blend in with almost any crowd. Of course, there was little in the way of a disguise in the taxi to work with. The trench coat now topped with icing and a black stocking hat. It probably made him look more suspicious than if he had just worn his street clothes.

Geoff didn't expect Shannon to attack him, though. He guessed he would do the same for his friends. Her methods were rather unorthodox, that was for sure. If nothing else, the element of surprise was on her side.

"Hey, buddy, are you the guy who got hit by the flying cake?" A sandy-haired man grinned at Geoff.

With a chuckle, Geoff replied, "Yeah, I am."

"The little lady sent these in." The man held out a gray sweatshirt and pants. "She said she was sorry." The man paused. "I'd forgive her if I was you."

"Thanks. I think you're probably right."

As the man left, Geoff examined the sweats. A large bull elephant trumpeted across the front of the shirt over the slogan, "Happy Birthday, Packy." A momento of a day Geoff certainly wouldn't forget.

When Geoff emerged from the restroom, Shannon paced outside, nibbling on her thumb. She quit fidgeting and stared at him as he approached.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as he stopped in front of her.

"Forgiven," Geoff said. "If you don't say 'I'm sorry' any more."

"I won't. I'm just really...glad you're alright."

What is alright? Geoff wondered. I run at the thought of being around kids. Yet I pursue a woman who has dumped me three times in the past forty-eight hours. Of course, she followed that up by sleeping with me last night. Go figure.

"Why were you following us?" Shannon asked.

"I was worried the husband would come looking for Julia and the children."

Shannon grinned. "And you didn't want me arrested for assault. How thoughtful of you."

"I believe you're serious."

"So does Julia's husband." Shannon fell into step beside Geoff. "But you didn't want to come to the zoo when I invited you."

Silence wrapped around them as Geoff stopped walking. He stared unseeing at the elephant house in front of them. "It's tough to be around kids."

"Because they remind you of Mandy and bring back the pain of missing her?"

"Yeah." Geoff nodded slowly.

Silence pulsed between them for a moment, then Shannon said, "It's a beautiful day to visit the zoo."

Sidestepping the past again, Geoff thought. But perhaps they needed to explore that pain a bit at a time. For now, it was enough that Shannon wasn't sending him away. He extended his hand. "With you as my guide, it would be beautiful indeed."

Slowly, Shannon took Geoff's hand and walked toward the zoo train where Julia and her children waited impatiently. The pint-sized locomotive wound upward through the zoo toward the rose gardens.

At the top, Geoff and Shannon climbed out to stretch their legs while Julia rode back with the twins. From the viewpoint overlooking the rose test gardens, the city seemed to sprawl to the foot of snow-capped Mt. Hood.

"I've loved this view since I was a kid," Shannon said.

"Did you come here often?"

"Almost every month until I was a teenager."

Geoff stood at Shannon's side. He didn't touch her, but her presence was a tangible thing, as if their souls knew each other.

"What was your childhood like?" Shannon asked.

Her question took Geoff by surprise. Since NightHawke hit the big time, Geoff considered the trials of childhood far behind him.

The little boy huddled between the sofa and the wall, pushing a fist into his stomach to quiet the rumbling.

"If you be quiet, I'll bring you dinner," his mother had promised.

Instead, she brought home a man from the diner where she waited tables. With only a warning frown from his mother, she took the man to her bedroom. Geoff knew there would be no dinner tonight. That's the way it had been since his dad left. But at least there hadn't been any yelling or fists flying at him, either.

"I'm sorry--that is, you don't have to tell me if it's none of my business," Shannon said.

Geoff shook off his memories. "It's no big secret. My old man took off when I was five or six, and not long after that my mother had a nervous breakdown. Then I bounced in and out of foster homes. In my teens, I discovered music. I stowed away in NightHawke's van when I was sixteen and the rest, as they say, is history."

Shannon's gaze didn't leave his face, as if waiting for Geoff to add more detail. The toot and whistle of the returning train gave him an opportunity to change the subject. "We shouldn't keep Julia and the children waiting."

With a shrug, Shannon turned to take one last look over the acres of gardens that, in June, would be a riot of vibrant blooms. "I wish you could see the roses in bloom."

So do I, Geoff thought, his mind filling with the image of Shannon lying on a bed covered with rose petals. He wanted to stay with her tonight, but not to sleep this time. He would show her--oh, so exquisitely--how making love should be. One night could stretch into two or a week or a month. "If you have a spare room, I just might stick around until then."

Temptation, then wariness flashed in Shannon's eyes. "What is it you have in mind, Geoff?"

"I'm attracted to you. I want to get to know you better."

"Sexually or intellectually?"

Her bluntness was another surprise. But perhaps candor was the best tack. "Both."

A sad smile barely moved her lips. "I don't think I can do that."

Disappointment and the sting of rejection arrowed through Geoff, yet the shadow of vulnerability in Shannon's eyes tugged at his protective instincts. Perhaps his biggest challenge would be to protect Shannon from his baser desires. "I'm sorry to push. Do you think I could convince Julia to give me a ride to Cisco's?"

* * *

Shannon slowly roused through the mists of sleep. She pushed the lace of the pillow sham out of her eye and peered around the room. The walls still gleamed white with splashes of primary colors across the wallpaper. A jungle of plants still cascaded from narrow stair-stepped bookshelves clustered on either side of the bay window. Yet something was different--like the slant of the sun's rays through the louvered shutters. Shannon fought a sinking feeling as she sat up and looked at the digital clock beside her bed. It blinked MONDAY 8:03AM.

Shannon groaned and rolled out of bed, startling her dog from his place on the faded rag rug she and Gram had braided one summer. "Why didn't you wake me up like you usually do, Jasper? Geez--twenty-seven minutes until I'm supposed to be at work. Go turn on the coffee, will you, boy?"

Jasper woofed in sympathy as Shannon disappeared into the shower. By the time she emerged, Jasper once again sat by her bed.

"Mission accomplished? Good boy." Shannon scratched the dog's ears. She grabbed underwear from the bureau, then flung open the closet doors. "What shall it be today? Mr. Sun or the crayon kids?" Shannon held up a rust-colored tunic with a glittering yellow and gold sun splashed from the left shoulder across the front of the shirt. The other top was a pale blue T-shirt with stick kids patterned around the bottom hem.

Jasper woofed and Shannon put the blue top back in the closet. "You think I'll need this to keep me awake, huh? You're probably right."

Shannon rarely had trouble falling asleep. But after experiencing so many conflicting emotions this weekend with Geoff, she lay awake agonizing for long hours last night. Perhaps she should have just invited the man into her bed. But for what purpose? To prove that she didn't have to be a teenager to be a fool? It's better that Geoff is gone, Shannon told herself.

With the sunshine top in place over slim gold pants, Shannon slid her feet into brown leather flats. She braided her hair to one side as she dashed down the oaken stairs, Jasper following closely.

Shannon poured a cup of coffee, sipped it, and sighed. "You are a lifesaver, Jasper. This will make me almost human."

Shannon continued to chatter at the dog as she scooped food into his dish, then dropped a piece of bread in the toaster for her own breakfast. The toast popped up as Jasper licked his bowl clean. He looked hopefully at her. "You'd take my breakfast too?"

Jasper looked at Shannon without blinking.

"Okay." She tossed him a piece of crust. Jasper waggled happily and slipped out his pet door into the back yard. Shannon grabbed her purse and her guitar, then hurried out to her car. If she was lucky, traffic would be light.

Shannon pulled into the parking lot of Talmidge Center for Children at 8:34. The squatty brick building sprawled over half a block. On one end, a spire of offices rose three stories above the rest of the facility. The therapy rooms lay near the center of the facility, a three-minute sprint from the parking lot if Shannon could reach her office without interruptions.

Fate had other ideas this morning.

An orderly pushing a patient in a wheelchair winked at her. "Great show on Friday." His gaze traveled slowly from her legs up to her breasts. Shannon leveled a cold stare at him but made no comment.

A doctor and two nurses joined her as she continued down the hall.

"Hey, Shannon, good show on Friday," the male nurse said.

Shannon took heart. At least he wasn't staring at her chest.

"How about sharing Geoff Chastain's phone number?" the other nurse asked.

Shannon bit her tongue to keep from saying not in this lifetime.

"I missed the fundraiser again, didn't I?" The doctor frowned.

The female nurse laughed. "But you were saving lives."

The two nurses strolled down a corridor to the left; the doctor continued walking with Shannon. "I have a patient coming your way tomorrow. Amelia Lockridge. Broken leg from an auto accident that killed her mother. She just got the cast off. She's seeing a psychiatrist too."

"Were there any other injuries?" Shannon asked.

"Nothing serious. A lot of emotional trauma, though. Your receptionist should have her file."

Shannon smiled at Jenny as she approached the reception desk. "Morning, Jenny. Any messages?"

"Not from your patients." Jenny handed her a file.

"Good. I can catch up on paperwork." Shannon started toward her office.

"Well, there is one thing..." Jenny called after her. Shannon turned back toward the receptionist. "You have an observer today."

Shannon rolled her eyes. "For how long?"

Jenny shrugged. "Bigelow didn't say. He just said show the man what he wants to see."

"Can't someone else babysit him?"

"He asked specifically for you," Jenny said.

Shannon frowned. She had regular patients this morning. They would love to show off for an observer. "Okay, send him in when he gets here."

"Umm...he's already here."

"You mean here--as in my office?"

Jenny nodded, then whispered, "He's gorgeous."

Shannon's heart sank. In her office meant the man could hear every word she said.

Shannon paused in the doorway of her office. Geoff stood amid the piles of paper in the twelve-by-twelve-foot space that housed Shannon's desk and a filing cabinet.

"Hi." Geoff grinned at her.

Shannon stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Her answering greeting came out a pathetic croak. She cleared her throat and tried again. "You're my observer today?"

Geoff nodded.

"I didn't mean what I said..."

"About palming me off on someone else to babysit?" Geoff's smile widened.

"My big mouth is legendary."

Geoff laughed and moved toward her. The walls closed around Shannon, and she wished she had left the door open. Geoff stood so close. Close enough to tip her chin upward so her gaze met his.

"I'm sorry--"

"You promised not to say that any more," Geoff said.

Shannon took a step backward, grasping desperately for some semblance of sanity and professionalism. "Are you really here to observe?"

Geoff nodded. "I want to see everything."

Shannon would show Geoff she could be a professional. She glanced at the calendar on the wall. "I have three sessions this morning with individual patients, a group session at one o'clock, and a staffing at two-thirty to discuss the progress on several patients.

"Let's start with a tour of the therapy room." Shannon led Geoff into a gymnasium-sized room. "Everything here was designed with the idea that play can be therapy. Most of our kids are pre-school age or in the first or second grades. They might have birth defects or have been injured in accidents or from abuse. We use the beach balls, hula-hoops, swings and scooters to help improve balance and coordination."

Shannon sat on a raft-sized swing suspended from the ceiling. "This is a favorite with the kids."

"What's in here?" Geoff pointed to a large cabinet labeled "Dreams."

A smile glowed in Shannon's eyes as she pulled a ballet tutu out of the cabinet. "Christy wants to be a ballerina. Lisa wears sequined circus tights for her sessions on the swings. Jason has a tuxedo jacket and top hat for conducting the symphony." She waved a hand at the remaining costumes. "Each of my kids has a dream that comes alive when they are here.

"Which reminds me--" Shannon glanced at her watch. "Ryan is due any minute. He has muscular dystrophy and needs weekly sessions to keep his muscles from shrinking and deforming his legs."

Panic flirted at the edges of Geoff's mind as he tried to concentrate on what Shannon was saying. What the hell am I doing here? He hadn't been directly involved in kids' programs since before his daughter died and couldn't bear to be close to kids since then. But Shannon so earnestly outlined her therapy sessions with kids that his need to please her overcame the need to run.

So he sat quietly in a corner while Shannon transformed the therapy room into a baseball diamond for sports fanatic Ryan. Shannon and Ryan started out with pre-game stretches, then played their own brand of baseball. Ryan played all the positions, while Shannon coached and cheered and filled in where she was needed.

The wrap-up was a slightly altered version of "The Star Spangled Banner." Ryan sang with enthusiasm, and hugged Shannon before leaving with his mother.

Then Geoff let out the breath he had been holding. The child was gone and his heart was still intact. And Geoff was very curious about the contents of the second large cabinet where the keyboard had been stored. "What else is in this cabinet?"

Shannon hesitated, then spoke quietly. "The Magic Music Box." Slowly, almost reverently, she opened the doors. The upper portion was stuffed with CDs of every kind of music imaginable. The space below housed a menagerie of musical instruments.

"Where did you get these?"

With a not-quite-casual shrug, Shannon replied, "Local musicians, churches, music stores--sometimes pawnshops. I've had the acoustic guitar since college and just purchased a keyboard."

One glance at Shannon revealed this was her dream. Her pride. Her vulnerability. "Do you use music in all your therapy sessions?"

"I try to." Shannon straightened the CDs in the cabinet. "It may be as simple as singing ‘The Star Spangled Banner' with Ryan or letting the kids choose background music for their session. I've also taught lullabies to moms whose infants have cerebral palsy, which relaxes the babies and makes therapy easier. The speech therapist and I have also worked together to teach kids to sing. That relaxes the facial muscles and improves breathing."

"And just makes the kids feel good," Geoff said, realizing what Mandy meant when she made him promise to share music with other kids.

As Shannon was doing.

"You should have your own music therapy program." An idea was forming in Geoff's mind.

"Part of the money we raised from the fundraiser will help set that up."

Disappointment swept through Geoff. He wanted to make Shannon's dream of a music therapy program come true. Not here at Talmidge, but at M's Playground, the facility he had built for his daughter. Perhaps he could change her mind.

Geoff's thoughts were interrupted by a young dynamo in a wheelchair zooming into the therapy room.

"Hey, man, you came back!"

Geoff recognized the speeder in the chair as Jason, the boy who asked him to sing at the fundraiser. Thanks to years on stage, Geoff pasted a smile on his face and injected enthusiasm into his voice in spite of his continuing uneasiness around kids who reminded him of his own daughter. "Hey, Jason, how are you doing?"

The boy beamed. "Can I have your autograph?"

"Sure. If Shannon finds a pen and paper."

Shannon dug through her desk for a moment, then held up the requested items. With a shaky hand, Geoff wrote a personal message and handed it to Jason.

"Can I have your autograph too, Shannon?" the boy asked.

"Mine?" Shannon's face furrowed with surprise.

"Sure. You sing real good and someday you might be a star like Geoff and make lots of money."

"You won't be too disappointed if I don't become a star, will you?" Shannon scribbled a message on the sheet of paper beside Geoff's signature.

"Naw. It's okay if you want to stay here with the other kids," Jason said.

"The other kids?" Shannon asked.

"Yeah. I won't need therapy when I'm a star."

"Then we'd better work extra hard now," Shannon said.

"I brought a new CD," Jason said. "Mom thought you might like to hear it."

"Just not at full volume, please. And maybe we can persuade Geoff to play the keyboard for us."

Jason begged Geoff to participate in his therapy and, once again, Geoff couldn't refuse. At the end of the hour, his heart ached a bit, but with admiration for this energetic young man, not because he brought painful memories.

Now Geoff was determined to convince Shannon to come to M's Playground. The new music hall he had planned before Mandy died would showcase Shannon's music therapy.

"Your love for these kids is obvious, and what you're doing really works. You can see the hope in their eyes when they leave."

"Thank you." Shannon's wide smile revealed pleasure at the compliment. "That means a lot."

"Your work would fit perfectly with what we do at M's Playground. Why don't you bring some of the kids to M's for a week and see for yourself?"

Shannon's jaw sagged. "Well, of course, they would love it. But we can't afford that--"

"What's to afford? It's on me."

"Oh, no, that's too much to ask--"

"I have an ulterior motive. I'm building a music hall and want to launch a music therapy program. For the week Talmidge kids are at M's, I want you to conduct music therapy classes for all the kids there." Geoff carefully watched Shannon's face for her reaction.

"Geoff, it's too much--"

"I've seen you work with kids. I think I'm getting a bargain."

"I don't know..." Shannon nibbled her thumb.

Geoff knew Shannon was almost convinced. Years of reading the emotions of an audience and knowing how to respond gave him an edge in dealing with people. He knew when to push; when to back away. Now was the time to give Shannon some space and let her come to the conclusion he suggested.

* * *

The sight of Geoff leaning in the doorway of Talmidge Center for Children greeted Shannon when she arrived for work the next morning. He pushed away from the building and walked to her car when she drove up. The touch of his fingers under her elbow as he helped her from the car tingled up Shannon's arm, spreading currents of delicious awareness throughout her body.

Speculative looks and whispers replaced the previous morning's taunts and suggestive comments as Geoff and Shannon walked toward the therapy room, talking with animation about the plans for a new music hall at M's Playground.

A sense of unreality settled around Shannon that set the tone for the day. In the eyes of others, her association with Geoff had changed her overnight. All day long, Shannon had the eerie feeling she was occupying someone else's body. A very public someone else whose every word and movement was dissected by anyone with access to the Talmidge grapevine.

The kids in Shannon's morning therapy sessions were delighted to see Geoff and convinced him to sing for them. An unexpected number of visitors dropped by under the guise of picking up therapy pointers from a co-worker. But the women's gazes lingered on Geoff and the men subtly challenged his presence.

Even Shannon's closest friends added to what she was quickly coming to think of as "celebrity insanity."

"Hi, is anyone here?" Lauren Westover's voice lilted through the therapy room.

In high school, Lauren had invited Shannon to the after-concert party where she met Geoff. Soon after, Lauren had mysteriously disappeared. Fifteen years later, Lauren returned to Portland with her teenaged son after her husband was murdered, looking for a new start as the marketing director at Talmidge Center for Children.

Working on the fundraiser under Lauren's able direction had renewed her friendship with Shannon and introduced her to Julia Cabot, a psychiatrist at Talmidge, whom Shannon had considered her best friend for several years.

Lauren appeared in the therapy room with a dazzling smile carefully in place, tugging Julia along behind her.

"What's up, ladies?" Shannon asked.

"We need to cover some of the details for the next fundraiser," Lauren said.

"Can't it wait until tomorrow's meeting?" Shannon asked.

"Oh, no," Lauren said. "I've got to get back to...uh, one of the vendors today...with a definite answer." Lauren elbowed Julia in the ribs. Julia nodded. "How about lunch?"

"Um-hum. Geoff, would you eat lunch with these two?" Shannon gestured toward Lauren and Julia, who wore matching toothy smiles.

"Where would you suggest dining?" Geoff asked.

"The cafeteria?" Lauren said.

"Ah, institutional food--my favorite." Geoff winked at Shannon and said in an aside, "Antonia would have a fit if she knew where I was going to eat."

At Shannon's questioning look, Geoff added, "My housekeeper turned mother."

Julia and Lauren kept up a running chatter of inanity on either side of Geoff and Shannon as they trudged toward the cafeteria. The minute they stepped inside, all conversation ceased.

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