“Honey, wake up. Allegra, come on, open those gorgeous eyes of yours.” Kowalski shook her shoulder gently. He didn’t want to leave while she was still asleep.

Allegra nestled deeper into the blankets. One slender hand pulled out from under the blanket and her forefinger waved back and forth. No.

Kowalski grabbed her hand and kissed it. “Time to get up.”

“What will you give me if I do?” Her voice was muffled by the pillow.

He smiled. “Well, coffee and what looks like the world’s finest croissant.”

She turned her head on the pillow but didn’t open her eyes. “The Mancusos call them ‘cornetti.’ Okay, cornetti. That’s good, but not good enough. What else?”

“Whole-wheat bread, butter and homemade jam. Don’t know what kind it is, but it sure smells good.”

“Color?”

“Ahh…” Kowalski was stumped. “Purple?”

“Blueberry.” Allegra finally opened her eyes. “You drive a hard bargain, Senior Chief, but blueberry jam it is.”

“Uh huh, tough guy, that’s me.” Kowalski bent to kiss the tip of her nose. He kept his tone light but watched her carefully.

She’d slept the rest of the night after the nightmare, thank God. Fuck, but she’d scared him. The terrified mewling sounds she’d made while in the grip of the nightmare had made his hair stand on end. She’d been clammy and shaking when he’d roused her from whatever horror she’d been living in her head.

He made sure she slept surrounded by him for the rest of the night. He was going to nip any other nightmares right in the bud from now on. But luckily, she seemed to have slept easy the rest of the night.

He hadn’t. He’d slept in a state of combat readiness. It was a shallow-sleeping technique SF soldiers used to give their bodies necessary downtime but allow them to be ready to fight in a split second.

He hadn’t had to fight, he’d just had to worry.

Allegra this morning looked just fine, though, he thought, as he helped her to the bathroom. Rosy and rested.

They were getting a rhythm. She’d hold out her hand, waiting for his arm. Once she had a hold on him, she relaxed and was able to follow his lead. He left her in the bathroom and finished preparing breakfast.

It was going to be a busy day, so he fixed a big breakfast for himself. He had a lot to do today and wanted to get back to Allegra as soon as possible, so that meant skipping lunch.

The bread popped out of the toaster as she stopped at the threshold, waiting, slender hand out. It pleased him beyond measure that she wanted him, needed him. She smiled when she felt his arm.

“Wow, smells wonderful,” she said, once she was sitting down.

“You know, you could make a fortune by selling to restaurants what’s in your freezer. Butter?” She nodded. Kowalski poured her coffee and buttered her toast for her. “Bless the Mancusos, whoever they are. This stuff is great.”

“Oh, yes.” Allegra smiled.

“What are you doing today?” Kowalski asked, polishing off his third piece of toast and picking up the next.

“Well, Rosa’s sister-in-law Francesca is coming to clean house for me, so there will be a whole new layer of food, in case that interests you. Francesca’s specialty is homemade pasta, so expect pans and pans of lasagna and ziti, and this funny ear-shaped pasta called orecchiette. I usually practice the harp while she’s cleaning. She says she loves to hear me play and sing, so it suits both of us. And anyway, I’m practicing for her son’s christening. I promised I’d play at the reception next month. So I’ll practice all morning. Then I’m meeting Suzanne for lunch at The Garden. We made the date last week. She hasn’t called to cancel, so I guess it’s still on. Suzanne’s very reliable that way. Claire was supposed to come, too, but she’ll probably still be at the hospital with Bud.”

Kowalski put down his fourth slice of toast with a frown. Lunch…hell, it was going to be tricky and tight. He had to run downtown to Portland Police HQ for a debriefing, and then he had an 11:30 appointment with a former FBI Hostage Rescue Team member, Dan Keller. Keller had a great résumé, and both Midnight and Kowalski thought he’d bring deep skills to the company. But the interview would take time. Shit.

“When’s your appointment?”

“Noon.” Allegra serenely finished her toast. “Where’s the milk?”

“Bravo, red, two o’clock.” She found it immediately and smiled, pleased. “Listen, honey, I don’t know if I can make it here in time. I’ve got a really heavy morning.”

“In time for what?” she frowned, as her head swiveled to his voice.

“To drive you to The Garden. Do you think you could call Suzanne and ask her if she could put lunch off until one?”

“You don’t need to drive me anywhere, Douglas. Suzanne will be stopping by to pick me up and anyway, if she can’t, I’ll just call a cab. I have the number of the cab company memorized.”

“No.” Kowalski kept his tone even, though the thought of Allegra calling a taxi, being alone in a cab with a stranger, made him want to punch his fist through the wall. “Don’t call a cab. Call me if Suzanne can’t make it. If I’m not free, I’ll send one of my men.” Jacko was free this morning, Kowalski would see to it.

Jacko was even a worse nightmare to look at than he was. At least Kowalski dressed normally. Jacko dressed in ancient sweatshirts with the sleeves cut off, raggedy torn jeans and scuffed boots, no coat, no matter what the weather, even in the snow. That put people off almost as much as the viper tats, shaved head, and nose and brow rings.

People looked away when Kowalski entered a room. People crossed to the other side of the street when Jacko walked down the sidewalk.

Didn’t matter. Jacko might look like something out of a horror movie, but Kowalski trusted him with his life. Had trusted him with his life several times. More importantly, he trusted Jacko with Allegra’s life.

Allegra was frowning as she sipped her coffee.

“Promise me you’ll call.” Kowalski covered her hand with his and waited. The one thing he didn’t want was for that lovely chin to go up, for her to get into a pissing contest with him.

He already knew that he was weak where Allegra was concerned. He’d never backed down from anything in his life, but he would with her. However long she wanted to stay with him, they’d do what she wanted. Eat what she wanted to eat, go where she wanted to go, do what she wanted to do. She could wrap him around her little finger. That was simply the way it was and the way it would be. He accepted it.

Except for one thing. Her personal safety. And there Kowalski was a rock—he wouldn’t give an inch. She was not going to take a cab, and that was that.

“Promise me,” he said, and watched her carefully.

That chin went up as she contemplated Irish rebellion, then trembled. She clearly knew he was right. Maybe she’d had a bad experience or two in a taxi. “Promise.” His grip on her hand tightened slightly.

He watched Allegra teeter on the edge, then give up.

“Okay. I promise.”

Nail it down, he thought. “You promise what?”

She heaved a sigh. “I promise, I swear, I won’t call a taxi.”

“Not today, not ever.”

“Not today, not ever,” she repeated obediently, and blinked. “Wow, that’s going to be hard.”

“Nope, easiest thing in the world. You need a ride, you call me. Simple as that. Memorize my cell phone number.” He gave it to her and made her repeat it until he was satisfied she’d remember it. “If I can’t drive you, one of my men will. I’ll see to it.” Kowalski was going to find himself a trusted man—a retired cop, say—and keep him on retainer to act as Allegra’s driver. It would save his sanity.

“And you?” Allegra’s small hand flexed under his. “Will you—will you be back tonight?”

Her eyes were huge as she turned to him. She couldn’t see him but she was listening with every cell of her body.

Was she unsure about him? Unsure that he’d come back? That was crazy. He’d walk barefoot over live coals to be with her.

“Oh yeah.” He breathed the words, and his tone must have reassured her because she relaxed slightly. “I’ll be back, count on it. I’ll try to make it back—” Home. He almost said ‘home’. “I think I’ll be back by around 5:00.”

“I’ll be back by then, too. You can explore what Francesca left for me, have fun sifting through the pans. She’s a fabulous cook.” She smiled at him. “So—what’s your day like? Will you be busy?”

“Yeah. I have to go down to Portland PDHQ. Police Headquarters,” he added, when she looked puzzled. “I’ll have to be debriefed about what went down at the Parks Foundation.” Jesus, it felt like a century ago. A lifetime ago, when his heart had been whole, when his life had been his to decide. B.A. Before Allegra. “I have to make it back to the office by 11:30, though. I’m interviewing a guy for an executive position with the company. He’s got good credentials, looks fabulous on paper, former HRT.”

“That’s nice,” Allegra said absently, delicately picking up a slice of toast. She froze, the toast an inch from her mouth. She put the slice down slowly and turned to him with a furrow between her brows, looking baffled. “Douglas?”

Kowalski drained his cup and stood. He ran the back of a forefinger down the smooth curve of her cheek. “Yeah, honey?”

“Why on earth do you need a man who used to be on Hormone Replacement Therapy?”

Little bitch would be off balance today. That was good, that would make her weak, vulnerable. Ready for the end game. She wasn’t made for the big time, that was clear. She was soft, easy to scare. It took balls to become a star.

Yesterday she’d freaked. Alvin watched her turn white and collapse after he played Mr. Sanderson’s recording. She’d simply folded. She was with a guy—big ugly bruiser, and he’d caught her before she fell to the ground. Alvin wasn’t worried about the bruiser. He couldn’t know who Alvin was and the next time Alvin got near the little bitch, she’d be alone. He’d make sure of that.

Bitch was dangerous to Mr. Sanderson. She could put him behind bars forever and then how was Alvin supposed to make it?

Mr. Sanderson needed her dead and he needed it to look like a suicide. Easy enough. Have her think she was hearing ghosts, drive her crazy, then walk into her house when the big guy was gone and put her head in the oven.

She cooked with gas. Alvin knew because he’d been in the house while she was out. It was going to be a piece of cake.

Drive her nuts, wait for the boyfriend to leave, then walk in. Hold her by the hair so bruises wouldn’t show, then shove her head in the oven.

And then he’d be the new Eminem. No more changing bedpans and washing down freaks. No more shit work. Just music and babes and snow, forever. There was just one thing standing between him and his destiny—Allegra Ennis.

She was going down.

“Oh sweetie,” Suzanne said, “are you okay? I was so worried about you. I tried calling but the phone was always busy. And your cell was off.”

Allegra tried not to blush. Douglas had taken the phone off the hook and switched off her cell so they wouldn’t be disturbed.

They were in The Garden, waiting for their orders to arrive. Claire had phoned to say she’d be late and to go ahead and order for her. Her usual—soup of the day and a small salad.

Allegra knew Suzanne so well, it was as if she could see her. She’d have on one of her form-hugging, pale pastel killer designer numbers that would never, ever show sweat or dirt or even wrinkles. Suzanne seemed to have an endless variety of them, bought from some secret source. Her dark blonde hair would be perfectly coiffed, discreet expensive jewels glinting from ears and hands. The only non-discreet thing was the humongous wedding ring on the ring finger of her left hand. Allegra had touched it once and it felt like a faceted pigeon’s egg. Very non-Suzanne, but then her husband struck her as a non-Suzanne husband. Still, she seemed happy with him, which was what counted.

She’d be leaning forward now, tucking a stray lock of shiny hair behind her ear. When she talked to you, she focused and listened. Allegra loved that about her.

“I’m okay.” Allegra smiled, to take the worry out of Suzanne’s voice. She deliberately injected some Ireland into her own. “Quite a time we had at the Foundation, eh? Nothin’ like a little ruckus to keep the blood up.”

“Horrible.” Suzanne’s voice was quiet. “That such a violent thing should happen at the Parks Foundation. The next jewelry show will be bristling with guns and guards and will be one further step down into barbarity.” Allegra could feel the air displacement as Suzanne shivered with disgust. Suzanne’s hand covered hers for a brief moment. “It must have been so awful for you. I wanted to wait for you, but Douglas insisted he’d take you home. Did he see you to your door all right?”

“Ah, yes, yes he did.” And beyond.

Allegra blushed beet-red. She could feel it, feel the rush of blood to her face and throat, and cursed her pale Irish skin.

“Oh.” Suzanne blinked when she was surprised or taken aback, which wasn’t often. She was such a cool customer. But right now she was probably blinking up a frenzy. “Oh!” Quick intake of breath. “You mean you and—you and Douglas? I never would have—oh my gosh.”

Allegra knew what Suzanne was thinking.

After the accident, when she’d woken up from the coma to find herself blind, it was as if she’d entered some no-sex, no-pleasure zone. She wasn’t an attractive woman any more, one who could expect a degree of constant male interest in her, one who liked being young and pretty and female. No, now she was this damaged and neutered…thing. She’d been robbed of her femininity. Pretty clothes, daring makeup, the mild flirting any pretty young woman carries on with the men she meets—they’d all been taken from her. She lived in a dark, grim world where just getting through the day—keeping herself clean and fed and free of bruises—drained her of all energy. Boyfriends, lovers, flirting, sex—they were all beyond her, disappeared into the great yawning chasm of darkness that had engulfed her life.

But now she had someone in her life and it astonished her, too. She wouldn’t have talked about it, out of fear of jinxing it. She wanted to wait and see if Douglas was going to stick around for a while before letting Suzanne or Claire know about it. Damn her skin and her tendency to blush. Well, the secret was out now, no sense denying it.

“Yes, um, Douglas stayed. And he’s, um, coming back tonight.” She frowned. “Or at least he said he was. I hope his word is good.”

“Oh, his word is good.” Suzanne’s voice held something. What? Some odd inflection as if she was trying to tell Allegra something without saying the words. “There’s no doubt about that. Douglas is a thousand percent a man of his word. If he said he’s coming back, count on it—he’ll be back. I don’t think grenades or machine-gun fire could stop him. It’s just that…”

“What?” Allegra leaned forward, suddenly anxious and scared. Had she missed out on something? Not recognized something? What if Douglas wasn’t as wonderful as she thought? What if he was hiding something, like—

“Heavens! He isn’t married is he? He said he wasn’t. Or rather,” she frowned, “he implied he was single. It would be just too awful if he was married with a dozen kids.” She clapped her hands to her still-red cheeks in horror. Oh God, she simply couldn’t stand it if her time with Douglas had been a lie. He seemed so steady and—

“No, sweetie, Douglas is definitely not married, never has been. There are no kids anywhere, I can assure you of that.”

Allegra sat back in her chair, relieved. Wow. Maybe she should stop thinking in such catastrophic terms all the time. Not everything was destined to turn out for the worst. Maybe.

“Well, this is a real surprise.” Suzanne touched the back of her hand lightly, letting her know she was there, listening. “I want you to tell me everything. What happened? He accompanied you home and then just walked right in?”

“Mmm, not quite. We had a little…interlude at the Foundation.”

“What?” This was actually fun. Allegra was enjoying the shock and surprise in Suzanne’s voice. Not much knocked Suzanne off course. “At the Foundation? Between the concert and the bad guys? No wait, you were singing when they broke in! Just when did you have time to carry on a romance? This is incredible.”

It was so romantic, Allegra wanted to tell the tale. For just a second, she allowed herself a flash of thought of the future. And since it was in the privacy of her own head, she could think what she wanted. She imagined telling her grandchildren the story. And since it was her head and her daydream, there were lot of kids listening.

Ah, me darlings, gather ’round and listen to when your grandfather started seducing yer grandmother under the podium while bad guys were shootin’ their guns.

“Well, you and Claire weren’t around, so Douglas accompanied me up onto the podium.” She shushed Suzanne, who’d groaned. “And don’t you dare apologize for not being there because if you had, I wouldn’t have had a chance to connect with Douglas. Anyway, he walked me to Dagda and said he’d wait for me to finish, so he was close by. I was halfway through the set when I heard noises from the audience. It was only later that I found out the lights went out. And then—and then there was a huge explosion. Only just as the noise of the explosion hit me, something else hit me—Douglas, flying off the podium with me in his arms. Amazing. He rolled us right under the concert podium. He was on top of me. And we, um, stayed there…for a while.”

Long enough to almost have an orgasm, she thought, and blushed bright red again.

“It was so wonderful, Suzanne,” she said dreamily. “I just can’t tell you how—how wonderful and exciting and thrilling it’s been. Just amazing. I mean, I know perfectly well that there are huge differences between us. Don’t think I don’t realize that.”

“Well,” Suzanne said, her voice kind. “What does that matter? After all, looks aren’t every—”

“I mean,” Allegra interrupted, “I’ll just bet you anything he’s a Republican.”

Suzanne laughed.

“What?”

“Oh, yes, I think you can safely say that Douglas is a Republican. And definitely John and probably Bud, too. It’s okay, your vote can cancel his out. Who cares about politics? There are more important things. Are you—are you happy with him?”

“Absolutely.” With all her doubts about herself and what she could offer, that was a question Allegra could answer without hesitation. “It’s been wonderful—so far, at least. I feel incredibly safe with him, you know?”

“Yes,” Suzanne said softly, putting her hand over Allegra’s and squeezing lightly. “I can imagine. I know how I feel with John, like nothing bad can happen as long as he’s around. I’m only sorry that on Saturday night I insisted that he and Douglas be unarmed. I was wrong. How wrong was, uh,” Suzanne’s voice turned wry, “pointed out to me very forcefully all day yesterday.”

“Exactly.” There was something about Douglas that made her feel safe, just having him in the room made her feel better. She’d never seen John, Suzanne’s husband. She’d only had dinner with him and Suzanne once, and they’d spoken briefly at the Foundation, but something told her he was in many ways similar to Douglas. Tall and with a deep voice, though not as deep as Douglas’, steady and calm.

You could almost feel the glow coming off Suzanne whenever she talked about her husband.

“That’s the way I feel about Douglas. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing. And, boy, does he.” Blood rushed back to her face. She felt like a stoplight. “Whoa, did that come out wrong.”

Suzanne laughed again. “Uh huh. If he’s anything like John, um, in intimacy, I’ll just bet he knows what he’s doing.”

“Who knows what who’s doing? Hi Allegra, hi Suzanne.” Before Allegra could answer, there was a flurry of air, soft lips kissed her cheek, and Claire’s voice said, “I made it! I left Mr. Impossibly Grumpy for two whole hours and got here! It’s so good to be out of the hospital and,” Claire breathed in deeply, “smelling something besides rubbing alcohol and formaldehyde! It wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the fact that Bud keeps trying to get out of bed, though he’s attached to machinery by a thousand tubes. If I hadn’t stopped him, he would have pulled out his IV this morning. I swear, that man survived surgery only to get murdered by his nurses.”

“Hi, Claire.” Allegra smiled. Claire was so sweet. She could just see her with Bud, patient and gentle with a grouchy male. Men could be so impossible. She remembered her father when he’d had gallstone surgery and had morphed right into a cranky old bear who—

A sharp pain flared deep in her head then spread, pounding. Allegra gasped and held her head.

“Hey, sweetie.” Suzanne’s cool hand touched her forehead. “Is something the matter? Do you need something?”

Another head. That’s what she needed. And while she was at it, another life. This happened to her often when she thought of her father, another cruel blow of fate.

“No, no, nothing’s wrong,” Allegra lied. She brought her hand down, forced a smile on her face. “I’m fine. Sorry. So Bud is okay? We were so worried, Douglas and I. But Douglas told me that if a gunshot wound doesn’t kill you immediately, there’s an excellent chance of survival and recovery. And I suppose he should know.”

“Yes, he’ll be fine. I think it’s a sign of recovery that Bud’s threatening to pull his gun on the doctors unless they tell him when he can go home. Preferably yesterday, to his way of thinking. Why, right after surgery…” Claire’s voice trailed off and Allegra could practically hear her head swivel. “Douglas? You’ve got a guy named Douglas? Who’s Doug—heavens! Not your husband’s partner?” This to Suzanne. She sounded shocked.

“The same.” Suzanne’s voice was dry. “Senior Chief Douglas Kowalski.”

Silence. More silence.

“Wow,” Claire said finally.

“Yeah,” Allegra said, feeling the blood rise to her face again. “Wow. You can say that again. It’s been great. Just great. I’ve never had such an exciting time with a man before. I mean—oh God.” That came out all wrong, all over again. She must be radiating heat from her blush.

Suzanne and Claire laughed.

“Ladies? Your meals will be here shortly. May I take your drink orders?” Allegra wondered if it was the tall waiter who had the demeanor of an undertaker or the short, hairy one. They each ordered a glass of wine—a Merlot for her, Riesling for Claire and Zinfandel for Suzanne. The waiter disappeared in a cloud of scent. He’d obviously rolled out of bed this morning straight into a vat of aftershave.

”So,” they said all at once, and laughed.

“So.” Allegra turned toward Claire. “I want to hear all about Bud.”

“I don’t,” Suzanne said promptly.

“Me neither.” Claire tapped Allegra’s hand. “I’m sick of thinking of Bud. I’ve done nothing but care for him for the past thirty-six hours and I’m going back to him when lunch is over, so I’m all Bud-ed out right now. I want to hear about…Douglas.” There it was again, that tone. Suzanne had it too, when she said his name. What was that about? “Come on, Allegra. Tell all. And I mean everything. Every little detail.”

There was a scraping sound as the two minxes actually brought their chairs closer to her, so as not to miss anything.

“Not talking,” Allegra said primly, miming a zip across her mouth. Claire made a shocked sound.

“Not at all?” Suzanne’s fingers tapped impatiently on the wooden tabletop.

Allegra shook her head. Not a peep.

“Nothing? Not the tiniest detail? Ah, come on,” Claire whined. “I told you all about Bud and when we met.”

Allegra shook her head, vigorously, enjoying the suspense. Claire had indeed talked, in shocking, red-hot detail. Well, she had her own red-hot story to tell. Putting on a smug smile, she waited. Let them suffer for it if they wanted dish.

“Nothing for it but to bribe her,” Claire told Suzanne. “But with what? Chocolate mousse?”

Allegra hesitated a moment—chocolate mousse was tempting—then shook her head. She had chocolate mousse, Francesca’s tiramisù and Sacher torte in her freezer. They’d have to do better than that.

“I know what will get her to talk,” Suzanne said slyly. “A secret. A big, big secret. Big, fat, juicy secret.”

“What?” Allegra and Claire said together.

“Wouldn’t be a secret if I told, would it?” Suzanne sounded incredibly smug. “And yet, I’m willing to talk if Allegra is.”

The sound of the serving trolley, then the sounds of the waiter placing their plates on the table. Allegra leaned forward to take in the scent of her order—gnocchi in gorgonzola sauce, a specialty of the house. Her favorite dish at The Garden was onion soup, but soup was too messy for her to eat in public, even with understanding friends like Claire and Suzanne.

Claire dinged her water glass with the spoon. “Okay now, we’ve struck our deal, so who goes first? I vote Allegra.”

“Nope.” Allegra brought one of the gnocchi to her mouth and savored it. The Garden’s chef was fabulous. “I’m not talking until I know that Suzanne’s news is worthy of my news. On a scale of one to ten, mine is a hundred.” She had the upper hand and she knew it. New loves were the atom bombs of gossip. They blew everything else right out of the water.

“How do we know you won’t cheat? Suzanne tells her secret and then you zip up again?”

Allegra sipped her Merlot. “You’ll have to take it on faith.” She smiled and sipped again, waiting. “Take it or leave it.”

“We’ll take it,” Claire said.

“Absolutely.”

“You first, Suzanne.” Allegra smiled. She loved besting Suzanne in negotiation. Suzanne in a previous life must have worked in the Casbah in Casablanca, buying and selling carpets. Getting the upper hand with her ranked right up there with winning the Nobel Prize.

“Okay. Well, this is my news.” Suzanne took a deep breath, let it out shakily. “I’m…pregnant.”

Claire and Allegra squealed at the same time, cutlery clattering to the table. Allegra reached over to clasp Suzanne’s hand. “Ohmygodohmygod!”

“This is great! Oh, wow! I can’t wait to tell Bud!” Claire laughed. “He’ll have a cow. Gosh, this is all so sudden!”

The three friends hugged and Allegra heard Suzanne sniffle. Well, that’s why she kept pocket handkerchiefs in her purse, for friends. Suzanne took the proffered handkerchief with a muffled, “Thanks,” and blew her nose. Hormones, Allegra thought. Had to be hormones. Suzanne never cried.

“Whoa, sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying. I mean I’m happy and everything, it’s just—” Suzanne honked in an unladylike and very un-Suzanne-like way into the handkerchief. “It’s all so overwhelming. Everything’s happened so fast.”

And it had. Suzanne only met her husband for the first time a month ago. She’d had wild sex with him the evening they met—Allegra and Claire had dragged that out of her—and the next day she was running for her life, after John shot and killed two men gunning for her.

Then she and John holed up in some cabin in the mountains, which she said was very dingily furnished. Man, woman, alone in shabby mountain cabin—well, you have some baby-making ingredients right there.

Then the FBI had taken her away for four days until the bad guy had providentially ended up dead. The next day she and John were married.

And now she was expecting. Talk about the pace of modern life.

“I was on the Pill,” Suzanne said, and honked again into the handkerchief. “I know how to take care of myself. But things got so muddled there. I must have skipped a day or two. And then John and I—” She stopped abruptly and Allegra wished she could see her, see whether Suzanne could blush. She had a very good idea of what she and John had been doing. “It’s really early, I’m only a few days late but somehow I just knew I was pregnant. So I bought the kit and took the test this morning. I’m a little shell-shocked. I still haven’t told John.”

“Do you want a child?” Claire asked gently.

“Yes.” Suzanne’s voice was clear. She sounded like her old self. There was a rustle of clothes and Allegra visualized her sitting up straighter in her chair. “Absolutely. I wouldn’t have chosen to get married and get pregnant quite so quickly, but there it is. Now I just have to screw up the courage to tell John.”

“You don’t think he’ll want a child?” Allegra asked. How sad. This had happened to several of her girlfriends. The husbands or boyfriends hadn’t wanted children, hadn’t wanted the burden or distraction. It was a shame because Allegra couldn’t imagine anything more wonderful than bearing a child to love. She herself wanted a big family. She’d always suffered from the fact that she was an only child.

“No, he wants it. He was saying just the other day he thought we should start a family. I just didn’t think it would be so…soon.” Her voice wobbled at the end. She drew in a long breath and her voice steadied. “The truth is, I wanted to come up with a sure-fire John Management Technique before having a child. I still haven’t figured out how to keep John on the other side of the line as far as arranging my life is concerned, and this is going to send him over the top. John tends to go wildly overboard in the protection department.”

“Tell me about it,” Allegra and Claire said at the same time, then laughed.

“Well, you see? Maybe they all studied at the same School for Overprotective Men. I swear, it was a struggle to be able to drive here today. I mean, there’s maybe a quarter inch of snow on the sidewalks, the streets are clear as anything, but John kept insisting that he have one of his men drive me here. His men are not what you’d call great company. They sit at the wheel like great lumps of protoplasm and scowl at each passing car and pedestrian as if they were terrorists just waiting to whip out a gun or a bomb. It’s so totally annoying. And of course his men are supposed to be working, and I don’t want to keep them away from it for too long, which means I have to calculate when I’ll leave and when I come back. That’s really annoying, too. I won today because I really put my foot down, but once John knows I’m pregnant, well I can kiss my steering wheel good-bye.”

Allegra had a sudden vision of Alpha Security International, John and Douglas’ company, turned into a glorified chauffeur service.

“I’m going to have to fight now to get to the big Home Decoration Exhibit in Savannah in March. I so look forward to it every year. I love meeting colleagues from all over, catching up on new trends, and now I’ll bet you anything John’s going to insist on coming with me. He’ll stick by me like glue. Can you imagine chatting with Willard Sykes about the new damasks out of China with John there, glowering?”

Wow. Allegra tried to imagine it—Suzanne and a colleague talking textile shop with a very large, bored, armed man sitting right next to them. It would put a damper on things, that was for sure. Not too good for business, either.

“And afterwards,” Suzanne continued, and Allegra could practically hear her roll her eyes. “Can you imagine how protective he’s going to be with a child? And I’m expecting a girl, I just know it, I can feel it in my bones. She’ll be lucky if he’ll let her out of the house before college.”

Silence as all three mulled over Suzanne’s little girl trying to date when she reached her teens with John running interference.

“Well,” Allegra ventured softly, “he’ll love her, that’s for sure. Like he loves you. That counts for a lot.”

Suzanne heaved a great sigh. “I know. I know how lucky I am. John’s a wonderful husband and he’ll be a loving father. I’m delighted about the child. I just wish I felt a little less…off balance about it.”

“Give yourself a break, Suzanne,” Claire said. “Of course you’re off balance. You almost had your head blown off at the Foundation. That would make anyone a little uncertain, even Suzanne La Cool.”

“What?” Allegra straightened as if an electric prod had stung her. “What’s this about Suzanne’s head nearly being blown off? What are you talking about?”

“Oh.” Allegra could hear the gears grinding in Claire’s head. She clearly wished she hadn’t spoken, but now she had. “Well, at the Foundation, um, Suzanne was taken hostage by one of the robbers.”

“Together with a number of other women,” Suzanne intervened hastily, as if that made it somehow better.

“Yeah, but the creep didn’t have that huge black bazillion-round submachine gun against their head,” Claire objected heatedly. “Just yours.”

“And Douglas didn’t say a thing, the rat.” Allegra was going to strangle Douglas when she got home. If she’d had any inkling Suzanne’s life had been threatened, that she’d undergone such a traumatic event—well, more traumatic for Suzanne than for anyone else—she’d have called yesterday, to find out how she was.

“He didn’t want you to worry.” Claire placed a hand over hers. “I guess all three of our guys went to that same school. It’s like they want to protect you from—life, I guess.”

“Well, enough about me,” Suzanne said briskly, sounding like her old self. It had been so weird hearing her sound a little lost and uncertain. It was so totally unlike her. “I’ve paid up, so now it’s your turn, Allegra, and it better be good. We want to know everything.”

“Oh yeah.” Claire turned on a dime. “Time to put out.”

Claire had been very forthcoming about the hot weekend she’d had with Bud, when she lost her virginity to a man she thought was a lumberjack, but who was, instead, a homicide detective. But Claire had been new to sex and was overwhelmed with the power of it. Allegra wasn’t new to sex—though she was very definitely new to the type of sex she’d had with Douglas. Still, it felt too…fragile, yet, to tell the details. She could tell the heart of it, though.

“Well…” Allegra could feel the waves of rapt attention coming off her two best friends. “You know how when you first meet a man and you’re on your best behavior and you want it all to be perfect and somehow it never is? No matter how hard you work at it? Well, I didn’t work at anything with Douglas. Our first kiss was under the podium at the Foundation while I was cowering in fear at the sound of gunshots. He’s the first man I’ve been with since…since.” Her voice cracked and Suzanne’s fingers touched her face, smoothing back a lock of hair.

“We know, sweetie.” Her voice was soft with acceptance and understanding. Another thing she loved about Suzanne, and about Claire, too. They always understood.

“Anyway,” Allegra continued, when the tightness in her throat eased up, “I think what’s so incredible is that at all times I’ve been completely myself with him. I feel total freedom. I never once worry about the effect I’m having on him or how I look or…or anything.”

She twisted the linen tablecloth, searching for the words to tell her friends the deepest secrets of her heart.

“I thought my life was over, when I woke up blind,” she said finally, quietly. “I honestly thought I might just as well be dead. I couldn’t imagine falling in love, ever again. More to the point, I couldn’t imagine anyone falling in love with me. Who would want me? I can’t do anything for myself, I’m no fun at all.” Allegra toyed, briefly, with the idea of telling her two best friends about the nightmares, waking and sleeping, but that felt too raw, too scary. “So you can imagine my surprise when this big strong man, who can do anything or have anything he wants, apparently wanted—wants—me. Not only does he want me, but he wants the unvarnished, damaged me. He doesn’t seem to find me lacking in any way.” She wiped away a tear. “It still feels like a miracle and I’m waiting for him to tell me that I’m too much trouble, but so far…” Knock on wood. “So far, he seems to be sticking. It’s only been two days—less than two days, and I don’t know what the future holds, but even this little bit of time has helped me find myself again. I can let myself be me with him. I thought I’d never be happy again, but Douglas has given me happiness back. It’s such a big, scary risk for me, opening my heart to him, but I feel safe with my heart in his hands.” She turned to her left. “You know, Suzanne? Like you feel with John?”

There was utter silence.

“Yes, I know.” Suzanne honked into her handkerchief again. Allegra wondered if she had any mascara left.

To her right, Claire sniffled. “That’s wonderful,” she said in a watery voice, then she exclaimed, “Oh my gosh! Look at the time! I have to get back to the hospital before the afternoon rounds. If I’m not there, Bud’s capable of pulling all his tubes out and staggering away. Or punching out the doctors’ lights. Suzanne, can you settle my bill and I’ll pay you back later? Allegra, I’m so happy for you… Oh, God, I’ve got to run!”

With a flurry of kisses, Claire left.

Suzanne settled the bill, refusing Allegra’s credit card. “Put it back, sweetie. And I won’t accept Claire’s money, either. Think of it as my little celebration lunch, to announce my pregnancy. Come on, now, the sky’s darkening. I want to get you home and then drive back before John sends out the Marines—or the SEALs—to find me.”

Allegra stood shivering outside the door of The Garden, waiting for Suzanne to bring the car around. A tiny snowflake fell on her cheek and she lifted her face to the cold air, breathing deeply, feeling peace settle in her heart.

She was so lucky to have Suzanne and Claire in her life. Not everybody had such good friends.

Not everybody had a Douglas.

To her shame, she found herself counting her blessings for the very first time since she’d lost her sight, something she should have done earlier. There were plenty of them. She had no money problems. She was in extremely good health. People cared for her. All of that was worth celebrating.

For the first horrible, black week in the hospital, Allegra had seriously considered suicide. Just ending it all, any way she could. She missed her father fiercely and she simply could not contemplate life in an endless black abyss. But she’d been wrong. There were things to look forward to. Bud and Claire were definitely going to get married and they’d want her to sing at the wedding. One part of her brain, the music lobe, was already putting together the selection of songs, if she could keep from crying with happiness. And Suzanne’s child. If it was a little girl, the three of them would keep her knee-deep in dresses while John drove them all crazy, hovering. A little girl to love. Douglas in her life, in her bed. Maybe, just maybe, life was good, after all.

Allegra smiled.

“You little bitch. You’re going to get what’s coming to you. I’m going to see you dead and then you’ll roast in hell.” Corey Sanderson’s voice was in her ear and his hand grabbed her arm in a painful vise.

Allegra screamed at the top of her voice.