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Her Only Chance
Cheryl Anne Porter
As a Navy SEAL, Kell is used putting his life on the line. But he can risk his heart again on a woman who keeps walking away from him?Jamie Winslow has been in love with Kellan Chance forever. Only, despite the undeniable chemistry between them, they'd never found a way to make it work. Now in order to get her license to practice psychology–and cash in on a major book deal–Jamie needs to find some sort of closure in her relationship with Kell. And it would be a lot easier if she could just keep him out of her bed…



“Marry me, Jamie. Tonight.”
Everything inside Jamie screamed for her to say yes. But her practical side urged her to proceed with caution. She and Kell had tried to be together twice before. “I want to, very much, Kell. But not like this.”
“Why not?” He held her tighter in his arms and trailed slow, sensual kisses down her collarbone.
Jamie melted. “Kell, you aren’t being fair. I can’t think with you pressed this close to me.”
He lifted his head and looked deeply into her eyes. “I like being pressed close to you. As you can feel, I want to make love to you. Here. On the beach.”
“My, my, you are impetuous tonight. First you want to marry me, then you want to make love to me—all in the same night.”
Kell pulled back. The bright moonlight illuminated the look of bemusement on his face. “Well, that’s the right sequence, isn’t it? First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes making love on a moonlit beach…”
“I think you forgot the baby carriage.”
Kell pulled her down to the sand. “Not without the making love part first…”
Dear Reader,
How many times have you heard couples say… “We were high school sweethearts”? Or, “I’ve known him since we were kids”? For many, this isn’t a fantasy, but a wonderful reality. They got it right the first time.
But that doesn’t happen often. And I got to wondering…would these people have fallen in love if they’d met again when they were older? Would the same chemistry be there? Hard to know, isn’t it?
In my first Temptation, Her Only Chance, I got to explore these possibilities. Jamie is a child of divorce and seeks security. Kell is a Navy SEAL, used to risking his life but not his heart. They have tremendous passion for each other—and share just as many problems. They can’t be together—yet they can’t stay apart. Neither one is willing to throw away all the love and the history they’ve shared.
Do they stand a chance? Read on and find out….
Enjoy,
Cheryl Anne Porter

Books by Cheryl Anne Porter
HARLEQUIN DUETS
12—PUPPY LOVE
21—DRIVE-BY DADDY
35—SITTING PRETTY
Her Only Chance
Cheryl Anne Porter


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To all therapists everywhere.
If you don’t have your own book, you should.

Contents
Prologue (#u9600da49-61b5-5288-83c5-f3408735d6ca)
Chapter 1 (#u8b210c3c-4893-5695-a958-4dc3d4a07d37)
Chapter 2 (#u019534e4-3b62-52c9-a594-eb5731ce8b5f)
Chapter 3 (#ue20ee5f5-c3a1-5ee0-aef3-c200284d86d8)
Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
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)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue
“I ALWAYS KNEW you were crazy.”
“Gee, thanks.” Jamie Winslow came to a stumbling stop as she jogged with her sister along Bayshore Boulevard. To her left, the waters of Tampa Bay sparkled and winked. Breathing hard, Jamie squinted at Donna through the bright morning sunshine. “Seriously, Donna, I have to go to these therapy sessions. They’re required before I can be licensed.”
“Yes. I remember those well myself.” Jamie’s sister, a petite woman with delicate features much like Jamie’s own, was bent over at the waist, her hands clasping her knees. Finally, she managed to ask, “But why are you so worried? If you really were crazy, they’d already know by now.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.” Still, Jamie couldn’t help obsessing a little about the tricky ground she and her therapist would cover in that afternoon’s session. She was reluctant to mention it to Donna, who always felt compelled to fix her younger sister’s problems, even when, like this one, they weren’t the least bit fixable. “By the way, Ms. Junior-High Counselor, we in the psychology field no longer refer to people as crazy.”
“We should. Most of them are. Except for us, of course.” Donna straightened up and groaned. “Every muscle I own hurts right now.” With that, she limped off to the nearest concrete bench. Jamie followed her, watching her sister gracelessly flop down on the seat. “So,” Donna continued, “it can’t be your grades that are worrying you. You’ve always aced any class you took.”
Jamie made a face. “Aced them with a lot of hard work. It was never easy for me like it was for you. But, still, you’re right. My grades aren’t bad. But apparently I’m a mass of insecurities.”
Donna’s blue eyes rounded with feigned surprise. “No! Seriously?” She then chuckled sympathetically. “You poor kid. You must be at the part where they tear you down so they can rebuild you.”
Jamie nodded, asking desultorily, “How’d you know?”
“Because there’s nothing like therapy to unravel a person. Finding out you’re susceptible to your own emotions and experiences isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, is it?”
“No,” Jamie griped, crossing her arms. “Now I know how it feels to be a specimen in a biology lab.”
Grinning, Donna squinted at the bright sunlight and shaded her eyes with a hand as she stared up at Jamie. “That’s the spirit, sis. Seriously, though, try thinking of your time with the shrink as another bit of class work.”
“Class work? How?”
“This is where you understand how your patients feel when they come to you and you start doing the same thing to them.”
“I see your point. I just wish that was all there was to it.” Suddenly overcome with the enormity of her crumbling confidence, Jamie covered her face with her hands and gave in to a moment of pure anxiety.
“Hey, honey, are you all right?”
Jamie lowered her hands and met her sister’s concerned gaze. “Do I look all right? Donna, what am I going to do? I mean, here you and Mom came all the way from New Orleans to celebrate with me. And I’m not even sure if I’ll graduate. I can see it now. Culled from the cap-and-gown herd. Left behind for the predators that prey on the weak and the sick.”
“Lord, as bad as all that?” Donna patted the concrete seat next to her. “Come here, Jamie. Sit. Talk to me.”
Exhaling her frustration, Jamie sat next to the comforting presence of her sister. “By the way, before we get too deeply into my angst, I want to tell you how good it is to have you and Mom here. Even if it is only for a few days. I miss you guys.”
Donna raised an eyebrow. “So move back to New Orleans.”
“I can’t.” Jamie stared down at her running shoes. She could never move back home. Too many bad memories, too much guilt. “I love you all. But my life is here now.”
“You keep saying that. And I guess I see your point,” Donna admitted. “You’ve been in Tampa for five years now. I love this city. You’ve established a nice home for yourself. You have new friends and important professional relationships. And, yes, it will be easier to get a practice going among people who didn’t watch you grow up and still think of you as that little brown-haired pigtailed girl with the skinned knees. But there are times when I wish you’d never applied for the postgraduate opening here.”
“It was a blessing, Donna. Trust me.”
“A blessing? Then how come you sound ready to hurl yourself into the bay?”
“Oh, please, I’m not suicidal. Far from it.” But still, Jamie looked out across the shimmering water and firmed her jaw. That day so long ago still haunted her. In a moment of flashback, she relived it. She was thirteen, and her father caught her and sixteen-year-old Kellan Chance together on the bed in Jamie’s bedroom. It was her first kiss. It was innocent. A simple exploring of carbonated hormones. And, yes, they had fallen back on the bed. But her father had exploded and thrown Kell bodily out of the house. Then her parents fought, and her father left…for good. God, what a disaster. And it was all her fault. She’d never said that out loud to anyone. It was hard enough to admit it to herself.
Jamie blinked away the bad memory and looked over at her sister. “Trust me, Donna, I would be much worse if I’d stayed in New Orleans.”
“What’s so bad about New Orleans? You were born there. You have friends there. Mom is there. And I’m there.”
Jamie grinned. “You miss me, don’t you?”
Donna put her arm around Jamie and pulled her close in a quick hug. “Of course I do, kiddo. I love you. I want you to be happy.”
Jamie hugged her back. “I am happy. Well, I was until these required sessions.” Jamie’s concerns bubbled up inside her again. “Do you realize what will happen if this doesn’t go well and I’m not certified to practice?”
“Yes, I do. Ten years of higher education, right along with your career, will circle the drain. But I know you, Jamie. And I know you won’t allow that to happen.”
Jamie shrugged. “I’ll do what I can. But I’m not the only one involved here.” Ouch. She hadn’t meant to reveal that.
“Who are you talking about? Your therapist?”
All she had to say was yes. But Jamie realized she wanted to tell her sister the truth, all of it. She wanted to talk to her. So, adopting a sparkly I-have-a-delicious-secret expression, she said, “No. Not my therapist. There’s another ‘someone else’ I’m talking about.”
Donna poked her sister in the arm. “Ohmigod, a man. Talk to me, girlfriend.”
Jamie chuckled. It was like they were teenagers again. “Okay. Two words. Kellan. Chance.”
Donna stared at Jamie. “Kellan Chance? You’re not serious. Come on, you said you haven’t even spoken to him in a year.”
“I haven’t.”
“Then what—” Donna stopped and a moment later the invisible I-get-it light went on over her head. She pushed at Jamie’s shoulder. “Get out. This afternoon’s topic on the couch isn’t so much Kellan Chance as it is your sex life. Am I right?”
Jamie nodded. “Bingo. My sex life. Or total lack thereof.”
“Ah. Not much action since you blew Kell off again, right?”
“I did not blow him off.”
“Yes you did. So let me guess.” Donna cocked her head, thinking. “I know. You haven’t washed that gorgeous, sexy man out of your hair yet, have you?”
“Yes I have.” But Jamie’s heart knew better. Poof, there he was in her mind’s eye. That gorgeous, sexy man, as Donna called him. He lurked inside her…a picture of muscles and a tight T-shirt, of dark and brooding eyes that accused her of walking away from him again. As always, his image sent a delicious shiver over Jamie’s skin. Not that all she loved about Kell was sex. But he was the type of man that made a woman—any woman—think about the bedroom.
Jamie heard her own guilty sigh in the same instant that Donna did.
“So where’d you go in your head just now?” Donna’s grin could only be called lascivious.
Jamie felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment. “Stop that. This is serious.”
Donna chuckled and tugged at Jamie’s ponytail. “All right, little sister. I’m listening. Talk to me.”
“Okay, here’s the thing.” Jamie took a deep breath for courage and plunged in. “What am I going to do when Dr. Hampton asks me about Kell? I mean, Kell essentially is my sex life. There’s no way to avoid talking about him.” She shook her head. “I am getting such bad vibes for this afternoon’s session. It’s make-or-break time.”
“Yes, it is. So here’s what you’re going to do.” Donna stood up, signaling for Jamie to do the same, and the two of them began walking toward Jamie’s car. “While Mom and I are ruining our budgets this afternoon shopping at Olde Hyde Park, you are going to go to your session and face the truth that you still love Kellan Chance and you always will.”
Jamie felt like screaming. There it was, like a big-banner headline flying across the blue sky for all the world to see. Her biggest fear just baldly blurted out. Her denial was instant. “I do not—”
“Oh, you do so. Don’t lie to me or to your therapist. He’ll see right through you. Instead, work with the man to try to figure out why it is that you keep breaking Kellan’s heart. And your own.”
A second denial rode Jamie’s lips, but the words wouldn’t come. Everything Donna said was true. She couldn’t live with the man and she was even worse without him. And right now, she was without him. Yet he had the power, without even being aware of it, to destroy everything she’d worked so hard for.
Jamie sighed in defeat. Loving Kell, or not loving him, was the last thing she could do anything about. But it also the one thing she had to do something about.

1
JAMIE TRIED to remember the last time she’d had a thirty-minute conversation about sex with a man and hadn’t at least been turned on first. She couldn’t come up with any time before today. Thank God. But now here she was, with her therapist, a slight older man with a gray beard and a notepad, sitting in his private, low-lit office. Talking about sex. For thirty minutes!
“I don’t have a problem with sex,” Jamie assured her therapist for the tenth time. “I like it a lot. Well, at least I did before this conversation. Now I may never want it again.” She grinned, but when the therapist didn’t even crack a smile, she hurriedly added, “Just kidding. Don’t write that down. Okay, so you’re saying I have a problem with one member of the opposite sex, right?”
“I don’t know, Jamie. You’d have to tell me.”
“I did tell you. Sex for me is pronounced Kellan Chance. You’d think the man and I were star-crossed lovers, and I’m compelled to keep reliving the tragedy.”
“Tragedy?” Dr. Hampton raised a graying eyebrow. “Is that how you see your relation—” A knock on the door interrupted him. “I’m sorry. Will you excuse me?” He stood up. “Roberta wouldn’t knock if it weren’t an emergency.”
Jamie waved a dismissive hand at him. “Please, go ahead.” Secretly thrilled with this temporary reprieve, she added a smile. “Take your time.”
Dr. Hampton nodded and crossed the room, quietly opening the door and leaving the room. Jamie watched him, thinking she needed to develop that soothing technique. She couldn’t seem to enter or exit a room without wrenching the door open or banging it closed. If only she could close her aching—and arousing—thoughts of Kellan Chance as easily.
It was true. Where Kellan was concerned, her heart and mind and body simply would not allow her to rest. He was entrenched in her senses. She felt certain she could smell his scent, taste his kiss, feel his touch…even after not seeing him for a year. No. Jamie leaned forward, crossing her arms atop her knees and resting her forehead against them. Do not think about him, Jamie. You’ll only lose.
She raised her head and stared across the soothingly lit and comfortably furnished office where Dr. Hampton plied his psychiatric trade. “I can do this,” she said softly to the man’s diplomas hanging on the wall behind his huge walnut desk. “I can and I will,” she said with more force, already feeling better. “I don’t have anything to worry about.”
Except Kellan Chance.
Slumping, Jamie muttered a mild expletive. The man is going to drive me crazy. She then remembered her conversation earlier with Donna about being crazy. Yeah, crazy about Kellan. Worse than that, she knew she still loved him, as Donna had accused. Not that loving him has done me any good, Jamie fussed. Kellan will never change. She knew it was true. The man, despite all his wonderful qualities, physical and otherwise, was a thrill seeker, a danger junkie. Her exact opposite. He was also, without being aware of it, her worst enemy. Or he would be, if the truth ever got out.
That truth was that Jamie had fallen for Kell—the classic “wrong man”—and hadn’t been able to get over him. In fact, she was so hopeless where he was concerned that her academic curiosity had finally taken over and had plunged her into research, which had fueled her doctoral thesis: Women Who Fall For “The Wrong Man”: Why Do They Do It?
How could she have known that, in psychology circles, her research and the resulting paper would be hailed as groundbreaking? That was another secret she wasn’t able to share with Donna or anyone else—her secret book deal with a major publisher who wanted her to develop her thesis into a nonfiction, self-help guide on relationships. Once she signed the contracts, she’d have a lot of money and even more publicity. But there would be no binding contract until she rewrote her thesis into lay terms, and made it slick and glossy in short chapters chock-full of advice, conclusions, lessons, and, worst of all, answers. Help.
The publicity plan scared Jamie the most. The publisher wanted to spring her on the public, present her as the one woman in today’s world who had all the answers about relationships. Jamie could read the caption now, headlining her photo on some glossy magazine page: What does this woman know about relationships that you don’t?
Not a damn thing. She still couldn’t believe this was happening to her. Who would have guessed that the woman from New York that she’d found herself cornered by at that faculty mixer—all Jamie had known then was the woman was someone important’s sister—was also a high-powered literary agent?
Even now, Jamie could remember how, out of sheer desperation for something to talk about, she’d spouted off about the research she’d done, the interviews, her conclusions, et cetera. And then the woman produced a business card, gave it to Jamie and said Kid, I’m going to make you a star.
Whew. A book like this was all about perception, Liz Clendenen, the agent—her agent—had told her. In Jamie, the publisher believed they had the right author, providing she turned out to be an entertaining writer, too. She was young. Attractive. Articulate. Educated. Yep, she had all the credentials, everything they could hope for. All in one package. Except…and only Jamie knew this…she was a fraud. She, too, had fallen for the wrong man. And she still wasn’t over him. That made her a victim of her own syndrome. Frankenstein’s monsterette. Dr. Jekyll and Ms. Hyde.
I have to quit bringing up Kellan to Dr. Hampton. He could unwittingly blow the whole book thing, along with my license to practice, if he thinks I have serious unresolved issues here. Jamie wondered how this could be happening to her. Just when everything fell into place in her life…it all fell apart. She had this unbelievable chance to succeed beyond her wildest expectations, and she’d lost control over her own destiny. Her feelings toward Kellan Chance could torpedo everything.
It had always been this way for her in her life. Every time she tried to do anything positive, something went wrong. No wonder she’d become a thinker, a watcher, and not a doer.
A moment later, she heard the office door behind her slowly opening. Her heart thumping, she quickly brushed her long hair back from her face and tugged at her short skirt. Just keep your cool here, Jamie. You can do this. She turned and smiled at Dr. Hampton.
His answering smile bled into a quizzical frown as he sat in his chair and opened his notepad. “You look nervous, Jamie.”
“I do? Well, I’m not. Except about getting my license to practice, that is.” No license, no certification meant…no book. Only, Dr. Hampton didn’t know that, and she couldn’t tell him.
He nodded. “Yes. Your license to practice.” But he didn’t elaborate. He just took up where they’d left off. “Before we were interrupted, you mentioned—” he checked his notepad “—Kellan Chance and tragedy. Tell me about that, Jamie.”
“Well, there’s no real tragedy. Not like a car accident, or plane wreck. It’s just that when Kellan and I get together, it always ends up in heartache, almost as if we were predestined for it. We always come to tragedy, it seems.” When the doctor said nothing, Jamie continued, blurting, “Kellan is Gaelic for warrior, you know. And he certainly lives up to his name. He’s a Navy SEAL. Did I tell you that?”
Dr. Hampton nodded. “Yes. But there’s more to him than that, isn’t there?”
“Oh, of course. He’s kind, considerate, intelligent. A real Southern gentleman. A well-rounded man.” The image that conjured up in her mind…Kell’s physical well-roundedness…had Jamie blushing and looking down at her hands in her lap. Why did she always become so wrapped up in Kell physically that she forgot his other attributes?
Dr. Hampton suddenly broke into Jamie’s reflective silence. “Those are all good attributes, Jamie. He sounds very nice.”
“He is.” Her words were a defeated sigh. “He’s more than nice. He was my best friend. We did everything together. I miss him—” Jamie watched Dr. Hampton writing furiously on his notepad. What now? What had she said to set him off on yet another blazing round of note-taking? That she missed him? Jamie sat silently, determined not to utter another word until her therapist/professor stopped scribbling her innermost secrets onto what would become nothing more to him than office notes.
The air conditioner suddenly kicked on, sending cooled air throughout the comfortably furnished office. Jamie was sure the walls were slowly closing in on her. Finally, Dr. Hampton stopped writing and looked up at her. Despite herself, she had to admire his expertise. “This works for you, doesn’t it? The long silences, all that writing? Just awaiting the patient’s thoughts—which they finally and desperately blurt out. It’s a good technique.”
“Is that how you feel, Jamie? Desperate?”
She stared at Dr. Hampton. He acted as if it was his job to jump on everything that came out of her mouth. Then she remembered…that was his job. It would also be her job someday soon—if she got past these sessions. “Yes, I feel desperate. But desperate to graduate and get my license. That’s all.”
Well, now, Jamie, that certainly sounded hostile. Dr. Hampton probably thought so, too, given the assessing stare he was sending her way. Swallowing, Jamie glanced at the wall clock behind him. The obnoxiously slow-moving big hand showed she still had fifteen minutes left in her hour. Great. Jamie smiled hopefully, helplessly, at her therapist and wisely said no more.
Dr. Hampton carefully placed his notepad on the small table next to him. He brushed something off his trousers, crossed his thin legs and met her gaze. Bad news was written all over his face. “You come back to your license almost as much as you do to Mr. Chance. I don’t suppose, though, that I blame you. Only I’m afraid, Jamie, that your license isn’t going to be forthcoming, at least not yet.”
His words were like an arrow to the heart of her future. Jamie put a shaking hand to her temple. “Would you please explain ‘not forthcoming’?”
“I’m afraid it means I’ll be, well, holding up your license.”
Jamie’s heart raced, leaving her weak-kneed. Her license. Her agent had called her just three days ago asking her when she’d have it. Liz had said Jamie needed to mail a copy to Highline Publishing and to her the day she got it. Only then would they draw up contracts that meant a signed deal. Jamie could hear herself assuring Liz she’d have it within a week or so. Or so? Suddenly “or so” appeared to be sometime in the next Ice Age. “Oh, God. Oh, please, Dr. Hampton, you can’t deny me my license. You can’t.”
Dr. Hampton’s gaze roved over her face. “I’m not going to deny you your license, Jamie. Well, not for any longer than I have to. I just think there’s something here that needs fine-tuning, let’s say.”
Fine-tuning? That’s it? Jamie leaned forward and stared at her former mentor, now tormentor. “That sounds hopeful. Considering I’ve studied under you for years, you’d have seen if I had any serious emotional problems by now. We’re just talking about temporary, right?”
“Correct. And I don’t feel you have serious emotional problems, Jamie. However, I am seeing something, in the course of these sessions, that I feel you need to address before going into practice for yourself.”
But I’m not going into practice, she wanted to yell. I’m going to be rich and be on TV. I’ll have books and make public appearances and—
Dr. Hampton continued “—while I don’t think you have a long-term problem, I just don’t see how, at this point, I can recommend you for licensing in marriage and family counseling.”
Still a bit breathless with the enormity of the man’s words, Jamie concentrated on breathing—and cooperating. “Okay. So we can’t do that now. What do I have to do? More classes? Labs? Some more interning?”
Dr. Hampton held out a steadying hand to her. “No, none of that. You’ve been exemplary in your courses. It’s not that at all.”
“Then what? It’s me, isn’t it? You’re just being nice and I am so totally messed up, aren’t I?”
Dr. Hampton chuckled. “No, calm down. You’re going way overboard with this.”
Yes she was, and she couldn’t stop it. “Am I at least going to graduate tomorrow night? I have family here for the ceremony. What am I going to tell them?”
Dr. Hampton gripped Jamie’s hand and looked her in the eye. “Listen to me. You don’t have to tell them anything. You will graduate tomorrow night, and your degree will be conferred upon you. It will be my honor to present it to you, Jamie.”
Grateful tears filled her eyes. Jamie slipped her hand out of his and reached across a small end table to the box of tissues. She plucked one out, wiped her eyes, then tossed it in a waste backet. “Well, thank God—and you—for that much, at least. My mother and sister are here from New Orleans to see me graduate.”
Dr. Hampton smiled. “Excellent. I’m sure you’re enjoying their visit. And I’ll look forward to meeting them.” Then his expression sobered, signaling a change in subject. “About your license, Jamie. Try not to be discouraged. Or too hard on yourself. I think you can work through this just fine. However, your graduate committee and I believe that before we can sign off on your state application you need to work a bit on finding closure.”
Jamie nodded, taking a moment to come to terms with what he was telling her. She also tried to think how she could get through this without Liz finding out. She had no choice but to cooperate. And to admit that this had really shaken her. Was there no area in her life where she could get things right the first time out? “All right. What do I have to do?”
“As I said, seek closure. With Kellan Chance.”
Jamie’s stomach tightened. As Donna had reminded her, she’d walked away from Kell—for the second time in her life—only a year ago. And now, her entire professional life rested on achieving closure with this man, a consummate warrior in her white-collar world? A teensy little fly in her great big jar of ointment? Dread washed over Jamie. Resting an elbow atop her knee, she leaned forward, rubbing at her forehead. “Great. Kellan Chance. The story of my life. I thought you meant undergo more sessions, talk about my feelings for him, something like that.”
“I do. We’ll continue those as well.”
“Dr. Hampton, perhaps I should explain. Kellan and I have quite the history. We go way back. Since before high school. Then, eight years ago, when I was twenty-one, I left him at the altar. Full church, white dress, all the trimmings. He was not amused at being humiliated in front of the whole town.”
“I suppose not. So you’re saying you don’t believe Mr. Chance has feelings for you?”
“Oh, he has a lot of feelings for me. All of them centering around murder.”
Dr. Hampton eyed her skeptically. “Are you certain? Because you said earlier in this session that you’d been involved with him after the, um, failed wedding.”
Guilt had Jamie darting her gaze around the room. “Yes. Two years ago we got together again. We lasted about a year.”
“I see. And how did it end that last time?”
“Badly. I walked away. Again.”
“Ah. Why is that?”
Jamie was getting tired of this being all about her. “Look, you need to understand the Chance family. It isn’t just a name with them. It’s their motto. The whole family takes chances in some way. Kell has two brothers—Brandon and T.J. Brandon is older than Kell. He used to be a Nightstalker pilot. Now that he is out of the military, he’s still taking risks, running his own security company. And T.J., the youngest, is into extreme sports. Very extreme. Even their parents are gamblers—real gamblers. That’s how they earn their living. So anywhere it’s legal, they’re there. When the boys were young and the Chances needed to go ‘earn a living,’ they’d have Aunt Tillie—who deals cards on a riverboat—sit with them.”
“Good heavens.”
“That’s milder than most people put it.” She stopped and looked Dr. Hampton in the eye. “And that’s the crux of the problem. I just don’t think Kell could change, even if he wanted to. And I don’t think he does. Taking risks is in his genes. He gambles with his health, his life, his body. Everything but his heart. He—”
“Jamie, what would you do if he did change?”
Her body’s response to that question startled Jamie. Fear had jetted over her. Fear, not relief. Warily, she eyed her therapist. “What do you mean?”
“If he quit taking risks. If he settled down, got a stable job. Would you marry him?”
“Wow. I can’t imagine Kell like that.” She laughed. “No, I guess he wouldn’t be himself, so I wouldn’t love him as much as I do. So I couldn’t marry him.”
Dr. Hampton just stared at her.
Jamie sobered. “Oh, God, I am so messed up. How could I get this far without knowing myself?”
Dr. Hampton relented, smiling. “I see this all the time at this stage, Jamie. We’re so busy learning and examining everyone but ourselves that we forget we’re human, too. I’m simply saying there’s something here worth exploring. Some unresolved feelings between the two of you. Do you agree?”
Jamie’s shoulders slumped with defeat. “Yes.” What choice did she have?
“Don’t look so glum, Jamie. You’ve made real progress in the past few weeks.”
“I suppose. I’m almost not against marriage anymore.”
Startled, Dr. Hampton sat forward in his chair. “That’s an odd conviction, Jamie, for someone who’s training to be a marriage and family counselor.”
Jamie started backpeddling before she lost more ground. “I’ll be a good counselor, Dr. Hampton. You know that. Just because something isn’t right for me doesn’t make it wrong for other people. I can separate the two.”
“Well, the only way we’ll know that for sure is for you to achieve a satisfactory resolution with Mr. Chance. In fact, I think your success in private practice depends on it.”
This was a disaster. Jamie exhaled slowly. She’d give anything if she could tell him the truth, that she wouldn’t be going into private practice. Then it struck her. It didn’t matter if she went into private practice or not. She’d still need the same skills, the same compassion, when she wrote her book because she’d still have patients, hopefully millions of them. Her readers.
Dr. Hampton was right. Facing Kell again would only make her a better therapist, a better author—a better person. Dammit. She brushed her hair back from her face. “So. Kellan Chance.”
Dr. Hampton nodded, seemingly a bit mollified. “Afraid so. But I don’t think it’s as dire as you believe.”
“Oh, it’s dire. I am the last person on earth Lieutenant-Commander Kellan Chance wants to see.”
“You’ve said as much. But isn’t he stationed here in Tampa at MacDill Air Force Base?” He flipped back through his notes. “Yes. Here it is—Special Operations Command, right?”
“Right,” Jamie grumbled. She knew how close Kellan was to her…geographically.
“Good. Because if you take care of things with Commander Chance promptly—then we might not have to delay your licensing for long.”
“Seriously?” Jamie perked up. “How long?” Maybe she could stall Highline Publishing. Maybe she could tell them her license was being processed. She could plead logjammed paperwork, delays at the post office, things like that.
“Well, how long depends on you. But I’m thinking maybe thirty days.”
Relief coursed through Jamie. Thirty days were so doable.
“I believe that since Mr. Chance lives here, all you need is opportunity.”
Jamie shook her head. “And more courage than I’ve ever had.” She could just see herself knocking on Kell’s door…after having told him, a year ago, that it was over forever between them. She could still see his stony expression that hid the hurt in his dark eyes. Guilt pushed aside her short-lived relief. She couldn’t play with Kell’s heart for her own gain. She had to be sincere in whatever she said or did. Or she’d never respect herself again. “So, all I have to do is get him to talk to me, just work out our issues? I mean, I don’t actually have to commit to anything with him, do I?”
“Oh no, no. We’re not in the business of forcing love. I wouldn’t counsel that. But, Jamie—is this something you can do? Do you feel safe, comfortable, in his presence?”
“Safe?” She thought of Kellan’s hawkish stare, his muscled body…the way his hands, his mouth, felt on her. She sighed. “Safe and comfortable are two things no one feels around Kell. He’s so intense. But in this context, yes, I’ll be fine. Despite his training and his occupation, he’s a very gentle man. Out at the base, the Special Ops guys are called the Quiet Professionals.”
“I see. That’s interesting—and good to hear. Because all I’m asking you to do is examine your own motives and feelings and then talk to him.”
“Talk to him,” she repeated. “This whole thing sounds as if I’m seeking forgiveness.”
Dr. Hampton’s expression softened. “You may be. But you won’t know until you talk to him.”
Just the thought of seeing Kell again had her stomach fluttering…with anticipation or dread, she couldn’t say. Heaving out a sigh, she met her professor’s waiting gaze. “So. I guess I have my marching orders.” She looked at the clock. Mercifully, her hour was up. Jamie stood and retrieved her purse. Dr. Hampton stood, too. “This isn’t going to be easy,” she remarked.
“I know. If it were easy, you wouldn’t have a problem.” With that, Dr. Hampton walked her to the door. “Try not to worry right now, Jamie. Get through graduation and enjoy your family’s visit. After they leave, we’ll talk again and go from there, okay?”
Jamie opened the office door and then turned to shake his hand. “Thank you…I guess.”
Dr. Hampton chuckled. “Jamie, you’re one of the finest doctoral candidates I’ve ever worked with. You’re infinitely qualified academically, and you’ll be fine. Trust me, this Kellan Chance thing is merely a hump you need to get over. One day you’ll look back on this and thank me—only sincerely.”
While pleased by his compliments—her flagging confidence really needed to hear them—Jamie just smiled. But she couldn’t help wondering if, once she walked back into Kellan Chance’s life, he would want to thank Dr. Hampton. Yeah, right. With a low-level air strike, maybe. Or a bouquet of bayonets.

2
MEANWHILE, and not too far away, on the secretive air force base situated on a spit of land that jutted out into Tampa Bay, Kellan Chance was learning his fate. And he was not a happy SEAL.
“I just don’t see any help for it, Lieutenant Commander,” General Halter was saying. “Your medical condition requires me to assign you thirty days R and R while we make a further review of the incident. While you’re on the mend, you’re free to come and go as you please. But I’d like you to stay in Tampa and make yourself available to the investigators.”
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir.” No one had to tell Kell what his commanding officer meant by thirty days of rest and relaxation. He had, in essence, just been relieved of his command, wounded or not. Dressed in his battle fatigues in front of General Halter’s desk in the Special Operations Command headquarters building on MacDill Air Force Base, Kell knew he’d messed up. He’d been in charge of a mission in Eastern Europe that had gone sour.
It was the worst possible outcome. They’d been detected, had a face-to-face with the opposition, and in the ensuing fight, some of his men had suffered injuries. In fact, Jeff Camden, his second-in-command and Kell’s best friend, was still in the hospital in Frankfurt, Germany. Guilt ate at Kell. Still, he refused to blame the bad intelligence he’d received regarding their target. He had no one but him to blame. That was the way it worked. He knew the risks and had always accepted them. With rank came responsibility. He’d danced to the music, and now it was time to pay the piper. Hopefully, the price would not be his career. That loss of honor would be unthinkable.
“At ease, Commander. This isn’t an inquisition.”
“Yes, sir.” No less tense, Kell did as ordered. He stood straight, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze riveted to a point on the opposite wall.
“Look, Kell, why don’t you sit down and let’s talk, man to man?”
Kell blinked at the general’s familiar use of his name. He cut his gaze over to the tall, lanky man, who suddenly appeared to look a little haggard. “Yes, sir. After you, sir.”
The general nodded and sat down, gesturing to the upholstered leather chair on the other side of the desk.
With measured precision and a few sharp moves worthy of a military parade…as if to show the general that the sutured and bandaged cut on his thigh didn’t bother him…Kell sat, holding his Special Ops beret in his hand while he awaited the general’s next words. He tried to convince himself that his heart wasn’t about to thump out of his chest.
The general sat forward, resting his elbows atop his desk and tenting his fingers together. “All right, here’s the thing. How old are you?”
Startled, Kell almost dropped his precise military bearing. “I’m thirty-two, sir.”
“Thirty-two. And you’re a lieutenant commander. I’ve always believed that only in our profession and in professional athletics is thirty-two getting up there in age. Most of our field officers are still in their twenties.”
Kell knew instantly where this was going. A desk job. His chest tightened around his heart, which felt as if it were expanding. “Begging the general’s pardon, sir, but I’m as fit as any man in my—”
“Yes, you are, even despite your injury. And you’re a fine commander. Your men are extremely loyal to you, and your superiors sing your praises, me among them. You’re also a highly decorated officer with more successful missions under your belt than anyone else. No one doubts your dedication, son.”
Until this last mission. It was unspoken between them. As the general talked, Kell’s jaw got tighter and tighter.
“It’s time for a change, Kell. I know how you feel about a desk job. But you have to admit this isn’t any ordinary office. You know what SOCOM is—a mixed-branch military nerve center where the strategy is done for the four services, where the missions originate. And it’s a tremendous responsibility. I feel we need someone like you in-house. No one knows Special Ops like you. And, of course, there’s a promotion in this.”
Kell sat rigid. The only thing worse would be to get assigned to the Pentagon—it was considered a graveyard for commanders. However, the one-foot-in-the-grave assignment was the desk job. Which he’d just been handed. A dead end. The last of the line. Kicked off the team for a lack of performance. Total loss of respect, of self-esteem. And there wasn’t one damn thing he could do about it, except say, “Thank you, sir. I’m honored, sir.”
“Like hell you are, Commander. I wasn’t when I got these stars—” he pointed to the insignia of his rank on his shoulders “—and this corner office. I thought my military life was over, that I was washed up. I couldn’t have been more wrong. And neither can you. This isn’t punishment, Kell. But it will seem like it when you’re sitting here safely, knowing you’re putting young men out in the field in jeopardy. You’re going to fret like you’re their daddy. And you’ll find you’re extremely careful of every detail so none of them gets hurt. That’s what I want from you. In one way, having you here is a way of making sure that what happened to you and your men will never happen again.”
Kell met his commanding officer’s steel-gray eyes. The general was referring to the intelligence officer who’d been relieved of command after Kell’s latest mission had failed. But Kell couldn’t help thinking that the general also meant that if Kell was sitting here at a desk, he couldn’t lead any other men into a trap. He swallowed, knowing the general was awaiting some comment from him. He stood up, coming again to attention. General Halter followed suit. Kell met the older man’s gaze. “Thank you, sir. Will that be all, sir?”
The general looked Kell up and down, narrowing his eyes assessingly. “You’re a fine man and a fine officer, Commander Chance. It’s just time for a change, for a move up the chain of command. It will be an honor to have you in the building and to work with you directly.”
Like the general had said—it sure as hell didn’t feel like an honor. Still, Kell put his beret back on, carefully adjusting it to the perfect angle. Then he saluted the general. “Thank you, sir. I look forward to the opportunity to serve you and my country in my new capacity.”
The general nodded and returned Kell’s salute.
Guilt ate at Kell. He’d gone too far one time too many. He’d asked too much from his men, and they’d almost paid the price with their lives—and all at his command. Maybe the general was right. Maybe he was getting too old for this. Maybe it was time to quit gambling, something his parents had never learned. Maybe it was time for a desk, time for change. No more risks.
Like hell it was. A bit of the fire in Kell’s belly went out. Who was he kidding? He didn’t believe any of that. He was Kellan Chance. A warrior. It was too bad his mother and father had just left after coming to see about him. He could have asked them what the Gaelic term for desk jockey was. Thank God they’d returned to New Orleans before he’d been put out to pasture. That wasn’t something he wanted them to know right off. But he’d better get used to the idea, he told himself. Because apparently he was going to have to live it.
He was also going to have to find a way to avoid losing face with his risk-taking brothers. Or himself.
THREE DAYS and as many doctoral-degree celebrations later, Jamie sat with Donna in the sun-splashed Tampa International Airport. True to Winslow form, the three of them—Jamie, her sister and their mother—had arrived chronically early for the flight that would take Jamie’s family back to New Orleans. So, with time to kill, their mother had wandered into a glass-fronted bookstore in search of the latest thriller to read during the flight.
That left Jamie and Donna to chat as they camped out with the carry-on luggage at one of the upscale coffee bars in the terminal. But even with all the traffic around them, all heads turned their way when Donna squealed, “You have got to be kidding—”
“Shh.” Jamie immediately leaned across the table. “Mom and half of Tampa will hear you.”
Donna’s blue eyes danced with delicious intrigue as she, too, leaned forward, speaking in a lowered voice. “Mom’s over there in that bookstore. She can’t hear us.”
“Ha. The woman can hear through walls. We’re talking about Mom here, Donna.” Jamie sipped the last of her coffee.
“Like heck we are. We’re talking about Kellan Chance. I was right, wasn’t I? You’re going to have to confront him.” Triumphant, Donna sat back. “Damn. I’m good.”
Jamie wondered what her sister would say once she could finally tell her about the book deal. “Yes, you are. But I knew it would all be about Kell, if you’ll remember.”
“Yes, you knew.” Donna turned serious. “But I’m worried about you, little sister. You walked away from that man and a church full of people on your wedding day eight years ago. And then you broke up with him again last year. And now these psycho professors of yours want you to see him again?” Donna sipped her coffee and eyed Jamie over the cup’s rim. “Have they lost their collective minds, playing Cupid like this? Kell is not going to be amused.”
“They’re not playing Cupid. They say I need closure. Can’t you just hear me telling someone as practical-minded as Kellan Chance that we need closure? He’s going to think I’m crazy.”
“Well, add my name to that list,” Donna said. “I’ve thought you were nuts ever since you ditched him right out of college.”
Jamie let out a guilty breath. “Will you quit saying I ditched him? I didn’t ditch him. I had…issues.”
“Issues? Such as…?”
“It’s not obvious? The way he plays with life and limb, Donna. I mean, come on, he’s thirty-two now. When do these Chance boys get over it?”
As if suddenly too warm, Donna fanned herself with her hand and sent her sister an arch expression. “They’re hardly boys, honey. Whew. Kell and his brothers are men to the nth degree. Wow.” Then she popped forward in her seat. “Wait a minute. You knew that Kell hadn’t changed a couple of years ago when y’all got back together. Shoot, we expected you two to finally get married then. But you took off on him again. So, what’s really going on here, Jamie? There’s something else, isn’t there?”
Jamie exhaled and toyed with her now empty paper cup. There was something going on. She just wished she knew what it was. It wasn’t a commitment thing. She’d committed to many things…although none of them had been men.
“Sweetie? Out loud.”
Jamie blinked and stared at her sister. “Oh. Sorry.” Suddenly she wished she and Donna lived a little closer. There was no one better to confide in. Donna was a counselor herself, a committed wife to Wayne and a wonderful mother to Jamie’s niece and nephew, Cindy and Bret. In other words, she was stable. But Donna was also someone who would be totally on Jamie’s side, someone who had the same parents, the same experiences, and who could tell her how to get past this closure/commitment hang-up of hers.
Feeling a rush of warmth for her sister, Jamie leaned forward, fully prepared to spill everything that was going on with her—including the book deal. Until she glanced over her sister’s shoulder. Then Jamie sat up stiffly, her mouth open, her eyes wide.
Donna pivoted in her seat and a starkly silent moment passed. Then, Donna, still looking over her shoulder, intoned, “Oh…my…God.” She jerked back around to face Jamie. “Is that who I think it is with Mother?”
Jamie nodded and finally remembered to breathe. Kellan Chance was walking their way. He was almost upon them…with her mother in tow. And that wasn’t all. Latched on to his arm was a stunningly beautiful woman who smiled warmly up at him.
KELL GLANCED DOWN at Melanie, who clung tiredly to his arm. Her flight from Germany, not to mention the long hours she’d spent at her husband’s bedside, had to have been exhausting, but still she smiled up at him. Kell winked at her and then met Jamie’s gaze as they approached the table where she sat with her sister. Jamie’s expression reeked of uncertainty. For his part, though, Kell could hardly look at her without wanting her. His breath caught. His chest ached. Dammit, he wasn’t the least bit over her. Still, staunchly military in his bearing, despite his civilian clothes, and revealing nothing of his inner turmoil, Kell proceeded with his greetings. “Donna, Jamie,” he said, managing a sincere smile. “It’s good to see you.” His gaze came to rest on Jamie. “You look great.”
Some naked emotion flared in her eyes but was quickly gone, leaving Kell to wonder if he’d really seen it. But if Jamie had nothing to say, Donna wasn’t stuck for words. She got up immediately and came around the table toward him, her slender arms held out. “Kellan Chance, you great big hunk of good-looking man, come here and give me a hug. Excuse me.” That last was meant for Melanie, whom she neatly sidestepped as she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him hard.
Held that way, Kell could only submit with a grin. When Donna finally released him, he stepped back, glanced again at Jamie, who hadn’t moved except to tightly cross her arms and legs. All Kell wanted to do was sit down and memorize very nuance of her. He wanted, needed, to feel the heat from her body, smell the scent of her skin, hear her laugh, listen to her talk. But he couldn’t. He turned to Melanie. “Donna, Jamie, I’d like you to meet Melanie Camden. Melanie, I’ve known Donna and Jamie since I was a kid back in New Orleans.”
“That he has,” Mrs. Winslow chirped, her bright-eyed gaze and forced smile betraying her underlying nervousness. “Isn’t Melanie just the prettiest thing, girls?”
“Lovely,” Donna confirmed, arching a worried look at Jamie.
Fighting a grin, Kell silently applauded Jamie’s mother’s attempt at diplomacy. No doubt, she expected the same fireworks from her daughter that he and, obviously, Donna did. “Why, before I recognized Kellan, I couldn’t help thinking, ‘What a lovely couple.’ And well, I guess they still are. Don’t you think so, Jamie? Honey?”
Along with everyone else, Kell looked expectantly at Jamie. Finally, she got up and came around the table. “Yes, Mother, they’re very lovely.” Then, offering her hand to Melanie…as if a firing squad forced her to do so…she said, “Hi. I’m Jamie Winslow.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Jamie. It’s good to meet all of you.” Melanie retrieved her hand and brushed it through her sleek brunette hair. “Kell always speaks of New Orleans and his family and friends there. And looking at y’all, I can see it’s no wonder. All that rich mahogony hair and those blue yes. How striking. Louisiana must be missing three of its sharpest beauties.”
In Kell’s opinion, this just could not get any better. The three women, like everyone else from three to ninety who met Melanie Camden, softened and sighed, succumbing to her Atlanta-debutante charm that even out-Southerned theirs. You couldn’t hate the doe-eyed Melanie if you tried. Kell knew that Jeff, her husband and a Tom Cruise look-alike, counted him as the only man he could trust with his wife—but only in broad daylight and in a crowded airport. She was that breathtaking—and that upsetting to Jamie. Kell didn’t know if he felt good or bad about that.
“Are y’all just getting in? Or are you leaving?” Melanie asked, apparently feeling a need to fill the gap in the polite conversation that none of them were making.
Jamie, Kell noticed, studiously avoided looking at him as she answered. “My mother and sister were here for my graduation. They’re leaving today.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Why, I bet you hate to see them go,” Melanie sympathized. “But how nice for you…your graduation, I mean. What a happy time in any family. May I ask what degree you obtained?”
“She got her doctorate in clinical psychology,” Mrs. Winslow chimed in, as if anxious for an opportunity to praise her daughter. “We’re so proud of her. She’s a doctor now.”
Kell, tired of being ignored, reached out and took her hand in his, holding it tightly…even as that familiar fire traveled up his arm. “Congratulations, Dr. Winslow.” He looked her right in the eyes. “I know how much getting your degree means to you. In fact, I recall it was more important to you to get a degree in mental health than it was to practice it yourself.”
He’d left her no choice. Jamie bristled. That was what he wanted from her…an honest response. “I don’t practice mental health? How about you? Jumped out of any perfectly fine airplanes lately? While they’re in the air, I mean.”
In light of last week’s secret and disastrous events, Kell bristled right back. “As a matter of fact, I have. Just recently I jumped out of an airplane that was only barely adequate.”
“Oh, really, Captain Marvel? No parachute, either, I suppose?” She jerked her hand, trying to get it out of his grip. But Kellan wouldn’t let go, he couldn’t let go. Jamie’s face reddened. He knew that sign—her Irish was up. And he knew what would follow. An escalation in the cold war.
“You’re so full of yourself, Kellan Chance, you probably just floated to the ground on your own ego.”
“All right now, you two, that’s enough.” The sharp intervening warning came from Jamie’s mother. “Don’t you start up in front of Melanie here. Behave.” Then she turned to Melanie. “Think nothing of them, honey. They’ve known each other practically since the cradle and just fuss all the time.”
To Kell, Melanie looked shell-shocked. Jamie finally managed to pull her hand from Kell’s and touched Melanie’s arm. “I apologize, Melanie, for my rudeness. But if you’ll excuse us, I have to get Mother and Donna to their terminal. Their plane leaves in—”
“An hour. We have plenty of time…Dr. Winslow,” Donna said, cutting Jamie off and emphasizing doctor…as if reminding her to act her profession, if not her age.
Kell’s anger left him. He’d provoked Jamie and this scene. It was up to him to end it. He gripped Melanie’s elbow. “It was nice to see all of you. But I’m sure Melanie’s luggage is downstairs at baggage claim by now. If you’ll excuse us.”
Everyone—except Jamie, Kell noticed—called out goodbyes and nice-to-have-met-yous. As he walked away with Melanie, Kell thought he could still feel Jamie’s hand in his, as well as her gaze burning into his back. He wanted nothing more than to turn around, stalk back to her, grab her by the arms and kiss the hell out of her…for starters.
After a few more steps, Melanie broke the silence between them. “That’s her, isn’t it? She’s your lost love—the one whose name you’d never tell me.”
Suddenly defensive, Kell shrugged. “She might be.”
Melanie tsked. “Might be, nothing. She is, and you know it. I swear, Kellan Chance, if you don’t tell that woman you still love her, you are just going to pop.”
Kell’s jaw tightened. “Then I guess I’ll have to pop.”
“Oh, you men. You are so stubborn.”
Kell glanced down at Melanie’s beauty-queen face. Guilt shot through him. Her worry over her wounded husband, the exhaustion on her face, her long flight…all of that was his fault. He’d caused it, as much as did the hazards of belonging to Special Ops—or being married to it. Kell suffered the fleeting yet troubling realization that this woman’s life, lived essentially without her husband at home but always worrying about him, would have been Jamie’s, if the two of them had made it work that last time. This is what he would have been subjecting her to. How selfish was that? Kell blinked away his unsettling epiphany by grinning down at Melanie. “What about you women? You go around breaking our hearts all the time.”
Melanie demurred with a classic uptilted look at him through her long eyelashes. “Only as necessary. And always for a good reason.”
Kell laughed. Even more than Melanie’s beauty, he appreciated her for her warmth and wit…two of the same qualities he’d always admired in Jamie. “I’m in over my head with you, aren’t I?”
“I expect so.”
“You do know that Jamie thought you and I are together, don’t you?”
“Well, we are together. But I know in what sense you mean.”
“And you were content to let her think it, weren’t you?”
Melanie raised her chin, à la Scarlet O’Hara. “As were you. But from what I just saw in that woman’s eyes when she looked at you, this isn’t the last you’ve seen of her. Now, what do you think of that?”
Kell couldn’t deny the leap his heart took at such an idea. But out loud he quipped, “Frankly, my dear, I think I don’t give a damn.”
THE NEXT DAY, Jamie flopped impatiently around her high-rise apartment, dressed only in shorts and a T-shirt. Nothing felt right. Even the brilliant Florida sunshine, sparkling off the blue water of the bay outside her balcony’s sliding-glass doors, couldn’t cheer her.
That’s what she got for setting up the next two weeks as her downtime before beginning the arduous task of trying to make a glitzy bestseller out of her doctoral thesis. She’d known this time would be all she’d have to herself for a while and had looked forward to the freedom. But now the days seemed ominous, as if each passing second was stretched taut and yet frighteningly short. All because of Kell.
Standing now at the closed glass doors, her arms crossed, Jamie watched a jogger slowly progressing along the same stretch of sidewalk that she and Donna had run. And decided she’d never felt more alone. She tried to tell herself that what she was experiencing was simply the normal letdown following the excitement of graduation. After all, her academic life, for the most part, was now over. That was good, she supposed.
And then there was Mom and Donna. She’d really enjoyed their visit, just the three of them, girlfriending it all around Tampa. There’d been so much to show them. But now they were gone. Back home. A wistful feeling overtook Jamie. She’d hated not being able to tell them about the book deal. It had taken every bit of restraint she possessed to keep it a secret. But a signed deal was a signed deal. She was to tell no one. And she hadn’t.
It was funny. She wanted this book contract mostly because of the good she could do with the money that came with it. And yet she couldn’t tell those it would affect. Jamie hated that her mother, who’d already suffered one heart attack, was still working and paying off a mortgage. Her mother had even managed to help Jamie through college, just as she had Donna. Now it was time to pay her mom back, to give her a carefree life, full of fun and travel, whatever she wanted. It was only fair. And her mother was still a relatively young woman of fifty-eight. She could find someone else to make her happy. Jamie smiled, knowing nothing would make her happier than giving back even a little of what her mother had given her.
So her silence now about the book deal had been bittersweet, even more so as she’d watched her family leave. Their leaving always left a void and yesterday had been no exception. Again, she saw herself standing at the plate-glass window at the airport, watching the big jet take off, already missing them.
She’d been sad…and seeing Kellan had made her feel so much worse. Jamie felt so hollow, so fragile. It had upset her to realize that she’d wanted nothing more, as he walked away with that woman, than to humiliate herself and chase after him, crying out his name, begging him to stop. What a desperate, romantic scene that would have been. Like the foggy airport scene at the end of Casablanca. Of all the homecomings and leave-takings that go on day in and day out at airports all around the world, you had to walk into this one. Or something like that.
Still, she couldn’t get yesterday’s scene out of her mind. There she’d sat, unaware of his nearness, enjoying the moment with her sister. Then, out of the blue, Kell and that gorgeous Melanie Something had walked right up to her and Donna. What were the chances that her mother would run into them in a complex the size of Tampa International Airport? Stupid fate.
Poor Mom. Before she’d gotten onto the airplane, she’d said she was sorry. She simply hadn’t known what to do once she’d realized it was Kell she’d bumped into. She’d been stuck and had to bring him over and she hoped she hadn’t upset Jamie. Jamie recalled now downplaying the moment, telling her mother that was silly, she was over him and had been for a long time.
Yeah, right. I’m over him. Tears threatened in Jamie’s eyes. She blinked and sniffed, telling herself she could not do this. Not for a license. Not for a publisher. She just couldn’t contact Kell now that she knew about Melanie. Another woman. Talk about closure. Jamie knew she should be happy for him. He’d gotten over her, that was easy to see. But it hurt. Turning away from the glass doors, Jamie told herself she needed to shake herself out of this mood before she did something dire…like eat all the ice cream she had stashed in the freezer. She perked up…Hey, ice cream. That sounds good—
The phone rang. Blessedly.
Relieved for her waistline, Jamie ran for the cordless set, flitting around her furniture and hoping it was either Becca or Jan or Carrie—or all three of her friends, women who understood the terrible possibility of death by chocolate. They could all go out to lunch. Or for a ride to the beach. Or shop. No, wait, this was Monday. They’d all be at work. So who could be on the line? She grabbed the phone on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Jamie? It’s Kell.”
Jamie froze, staring at her reflection in the ornately framed beveled mirror over the sofa. The woman staring back at her looked shocked. Because that woman is, Jamie told herself. Her heart was pounding and she felt hot and weak and giddy.
In the earpiece she heard Kell saying, “Jamie? Are you there? Do I have the right number? Is this 2-5-8—”
“Yes. It’s me—” she swallowed, having trouble saying his name “—Kell. I’m just…I’m here. Hi.”
“Hi. You okay?” His voice sounded low and seductive. It frittered on Jamie’s nerve endings.
Despite their public fuss yesterday, she strove for light and cheerful. “Sure. I’m fine. Couldn’t be better. How about you? You okay? How’s Melanie?”
After a second or two, Kell said, “She’s fine. All safe at home after visiting her husband.”
“Her husband?” Jamie was shocked. What he did and who he saw were really none of her business. But considering she had the home field advantage with him—meaning, she’d known him since he was a kid—she could be judgmental. “Kellan Chance, you’re seeing a married woman? What would your mother say?”
“Nothing, because there’s nothing to say. Melanie, just like her husband, Jeff, is a good friend of mine.” Kell chuckled. “Not that I owe you an explanation, but I was just seeing her home after an overseas flight.”
A bit embarrassed, Jamie tried to keep the moment. “Oh, a world traveler, huh? Must be fun.”
“Not this trip.” Kell’s voice was dark. “Jeff was…injured and is in the military hospital in Frankfurt, Germany. Melanie had been over there with him. So when she flew back home, I offered to pick her up. It’s the least I could do.”
They were friends. Just friends. Jamie’s heart soared. Kellan didn’t have someone else, and he wasn’t over her. She knew this because he’d just gone to great lengths to explain things to her. “That was nice of you to help out a friend,” she finally said. “So how’s her husband? Is he going to be okay?”
Kell didn’t say anything at first. After a few moments, he said, “Jeff will be fine. Melanie wouldn’t have come back otherwise.” She heard him let out a loud breath. “Listen, Jamie, I really called to apologize to you for what a jerk I was at the airport yesterday.”
She couldn’t believe her ears. “What’s this? An apology from the Kellan Chance?”
He chuckled. “Knock it off. I’m trying to be nice here.”
“Wow. Now I’m worried. I must be dying and no one’s told me. I mean, an apology and an attempt to be nice—all in the same conversation?”
“People change, you know. You probably wouldn’t recognize a lot of things about me now.”
Jamie tensed, again assailed with the same fear that had gripped her when Dr. Hampton had asked her what she’d do if Kell ever changed. Suddenly claustrophobic, she searched for something innocuous to say. “So, were you and your friend Jeff on some mission when he was injured?”
“You know I can’t say if I was there or even if it was a mission.”
Which meant it had been and Kell had been there. Still, something in his voice, a sadness or a hardness, she didn’t know which, made Jamie ask, “Kellan, are you all right?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine.” Now that she thought about it, yesterday he’d looked thinner. His handsome face had been all taut angular lines. And he’d walked stiffly, too, maybe a bit slower. Then, because he was so somber, so different, and because she was worried about him, Jamie reverted to familiar ground. “So, are you still Mr. Important out at MacDill?”
That earned her another chuckle…a sound she knew well and loved, one that had her stroking the mouthpiece in her hand, as if by doing so she could feel Kell’s strong jaw or his clean-shaven cheek. “Ironically,” he said, “I’m even more so now, it turns out. And how about you, Dr. Winslow? I’m really proud of you—not that you could tell yesterday by my behavior at the airport.”
“Forget that, Kell. We were both pretty immature. The shock of seeing each other, I guess. I’m over it.”
“Well, good. But I’m still sorry. So, are you going into private practice?”
Jamie exhaled in frustration. When would she ever be able to tell anyone the truth? “No. Not exactly. Why? Are you in need of a therapist?”
“Surprisingly, yes. It’s been suggested.”
Jamie laughed. “I bet it has.” But she already knew that the men of the Special Forces units regularly undergo psychological testing and evaluation because of the nature of their jobs.
“So, Jamie, how come there’s no new man in your life?”
Well, that touched a very old and deep wound between them. But his voice hadn’t sounded anything but conversationally friendly…maybe. “Now, how do you know there isn’t? I could just be going by my maiden name, you know.”
“That’s true.”
He didn’t believe her in the least. Mainly, she decided, because he knew her too well. After all, he was the man she’d twice left standing alone. There it was—the old commitment thing. Jamie smiled wistfully. “I can’t pull anything over on you, can I?”
“No. Afraid not.”
After that, the conversation seemed to drag. Jamie couldn’t think of a thing to say. And all Kellan did was breathe…and perhaps wait for her to say something. She wondered why he’d called, where this was going. “Are you married, Kellan?” she suddenly blurted.
“Oh, hell no. You broke me of wanting that. Ever.”
Well, if she thought the conversation had lagged before…
“Look, Jamie,” Kellan suddenly said, “you want to get a drink or something right now? Maybe ride to the beach, if you don’t have plans?”
He was asking her out? “No, I don’t.”
“You don’t what—have plans or want to?”
He was so direct. And giving her the opening she needed to speed up the closure Dr. Hampton so obnoxiously insisted on. Jamie moistened her lips. She couldn’t think how to respond. It suddenly seemed cheap to use him like this. Especially when he was down and a little vulnerable. But wasn’t that the perfect mood for him to be in for her to achieve her goal? Well, that sounds perfectly noble, Dr. Jamie Lynn Winslow.
“Hello? Jamie?”
Jamie started, as if only then realizing she held a cordless phone to her ear. “Oh, I’m sorry, Kell. You just surprised me, that’s all.”
“I didn’t mean to. But what do you say?”
He sounded as if he really needed to talk to her. This was so scary and so unlike Kellan. Jamie’s chest constricted. Why was she so good at this with patients but terrible at it in her own life? “No, Kell. I…can’t go with you. I’d like to. But I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” His voice betrayed nothing.
Helplessness ate at her. She didn’t want to turn him down. She wanted to go, but she feared it was for the wrong reason. For her reason. And not his. If he was really down, then he deserved honesty and sincerity. Not her self-serving motivations. “I just can’t. I’m really sorry, Kellan.”
His silence told her he clearly hadn’t expected that response. Just as she was about to change her mind, he said, “All right. If you can’t, you can’t. Sorry I bothered you, Jamie. I shouldn’t have called. I guess I just let the past get in my way there for a minute. It was nice seeing you yesterday. I was just hoping—well, never mind. It won’t happen again. Goodbye.”
Jamie started to protest…but the line went dead.

3
THE HOLLOW SOUND of a dial tone assaulted Jamie’s ear. Hating herself, she hit the off button, and tossed the cordless set onto her overstuffed sofa. She followed it, plopping down on the poofy cushions. “Jamie Lynn, why didn’t you go?” she asked herself. “Because I—”
The phone rang again.
Startled, her pulse racing, Jamie searched the cushions for the receiver. And came up with it on the fourth ring. “Hello? Kellan? I’m sorry. I—”
“Jamie? This is Dr. Hampton. Are you all right? You sound breathless.”
“Dr. Hampton? Oh, hi. No, I’m fine.” Acute disappointment ate at her. It wasn’t Kellan. Of course it wasn’t Kellan. Why would he subject himself to further rejection? “Did I forget a session?”
“No, no. We need to schedule one, if you’ll remember. I told you I’d call you the first of the week. Remember? And this is Monday, Jamie.”
“I know what day of the week it is, Dr. Hampton. I am firmly oriented as to day and time.”
“Of course you are, Jamie.”
That’s when it hit her. He was right—this was Monday. Why wasn’t Kellan at the base? How could he be free to ride to the beach on a Monday? That didn’t make sense. He never took time off. Jamie frowned. Something was wrong with Kellan.
“Jamie?”
“Oh, sorry, Dr. Hampton. I’m right here. When did you want to see me?”
“That depends on you. Have you had an opportunity to speak with Mr. Chance?”
“Sort of.” When Dr. Hampton didn’t say anything—it was like being back in his office—Jamie rushed to explain. “I mean I had a chance—no pun intended—encounter with him yesterday at the airport. And he just called me a few moments ago.”
“Oh. That explains why you thought I was Kellan.”
Caught red-handed. “Yes, sorry. But the conversation between us didn’t go well. As usual.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I guess we couldn’t expect it to be smooth sailing right out of the chute.”
Jamie frowned. A mixed metaphor from Dr. Hampton? It really was Monday. “No. I guess not.”
“May I ask why it didn’t go well?”
“Sure. You’re the guy with the license.” She had to wonder why she was always on the defensive with Dr. Hampton.
“You’re being defensive, Jamie.”
She exhaled sharply. The man missed nothing. “I know. I can’t seem to be any other way with you.”
“Just relax and let me help. So, I guess we’d better set up an appointment. How is Thursday afternoon at three, shall we say?”
As if she had any plans. “Fine.”
“Good. That gives you another three days to talk to Mr. Chance. In the meantime, give some thought to a specific plan. Be proactive in this. Set some goals so you’ll know if you’re making progress. I think that will help you.” Dr. Hampton paused. When he spoke again, his voice held a different tone, that of a friend…or a father. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this, Jamie, if it weren’t important. I might be your therapist, but I also like you very much. You’re a wonderful young woman with a bright future. I have been proud to call you my student…and now, hopefully, my colleague and friend.”
Tears clogged her throat. She’d never seen this side of Dr. Hampton before. “Thank you,” she managed to sniff out.
“You’re welcome.” Then, he turned professional again. “Well, then. Does meeting with Mr. Chance remain something you’re comfortable doing?”
No. “Yes. But you know, he seems sort of down about something, Dr. Hampton. I don’t want to use him for my purposes, if he’s really vulnerable right now.”
“That’s very admirable, Jamie. But you wouldn’t be using him if you were sincerely listening to him and being his friend. In fact, why don’t you strive for that, for just being his friend? You might be able to help him. After all, you are a trained professional, as the joke goes, so you can try this at home. Come up with a non-threatening situation for your first meeting. Maybe a ride to the beach?”
“Well, that’s already been discussed. Apparently, I should be listening. Anyway, thank you for your advice. I’ll be Kell’s friend, and I’ll see you Thursday at three.”
“I look forward to it.”
“Me, too. Bye, Dr. Hampton.” Jamie hit the off button again and just sat there, the phone in her lap, staring into space.
She’d just blown Kell off and now she had to reestablish contact with him. Fine. But on my terms, not his. That was why she’d refused him when he’d called, she told herself. She hadn’t been comfortable with the scenario. His car. His money paying for their drinks—he would have insisted on that. Kellan calling the shots. The balance of power would have been all wrong. She needed it to be on her side when she talked to him about closure. Her closure. Not his.
Jamie frowned. Now, that sounded terribly selfish. It brought back Kell’s remark yesterday about her thinking everything was about her, and that bothered her. Maybe the problem was she spent too much time considering every motive behind every act that every person ever made. Well, hadn’t she just spent the last ten years training to do exactly that? So why should she beat herself up about being true to her profession? Alleged profession, if I don’t find closure. So there it was. Maybe she was trying too hard. Maybe she just needed to lighten up and concentrate on other people. Wasn’t that what her profession was all about, anyway? Helping others?
But she knew that she had to be okay with herself first before she could be of any help to others. She couldn’t be like the dentist with bad teeth. Or the beautician with awful hair. She had to be the therapist with her head—teeth, hair and all—on straight. And that meant…she had to deal with Kellan Chance. Just his name made her shiver with wanting. It was so masculine, so strong. Gaelic for warrior. Jamie put a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. “Oh, man. What have I got myself into?”

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