She probably doesn’t even remember you.

“Welcome to the Cimarron. It’s a real pleasure to meet you. Make yourself at home.” Jack pressed her hand between both of his. “Can I get you something to drink—wine, beer, scotch, soda, some overpriced bubbly water?”

Laura smiled, a genuine bright smile that put dimples in her cheeks. “Overpriced bubbly water would be lovely. Thank you.”

Jack turned back to the kitchen.

Hunter stepped forward, held out his hand. “Marc Hunter. I’m Sophie’s husband. Sophie has said great things about you.”

“Thank you. She’s said good things about you, too.”

“All true, I’m sure.” Hunter grinned.

“I’m Julian Darcangelo. I head up the DPD’s vice squad. My wife, Tessa, is a big fan of yours. She’s an investigative journalist herself and has written a few books. She used to be on the I-Team before she went freelance. I can’t believe she hasn’t found some excuse to visit Sophie at the paper so she can meet you.”

“Sophie has mentioned her.” Laura’s eyes narrowed. “You say she’s written books? Wait—is her name Tessa Novak?”

Darcangelo nodded. “That was her maiden name. She still uses it for journalism.”

“I’m a fan of hers. I read the two books she wrote about human sex trafficking. She inspired me to look into the issue in Pakistan and India.”

“Hearing that is going to make her day—hell, her entire year.”

Rossiter pushed his way forward. “Gabe Rossiter. I’m Kat’s worse half.”

Laura took Rossiter’s hand and smiled that beautiful smile of hers. “I’ve heard about some of your adventures.”

“He’s the most famous one-legged extreme athlete in the world,” Hunter quipped. “Just ask him.”

That made her laugh.

Her gaze shifted to Javier. The color drained from her cheeks, and her eyes went wide, her lips parting as she stared up at him. “It’s . . . It’s you!”

* * *

LAURA COULD HEAR nothing over the thrum of her own pulse, her gaze fixed on the face of the tall man who stood before her.

Javier Corbray.

Somehow, he was standing right here in this room with her.

“Hello, Laura.”

A feeling of light-headedness swamped her, the floor tilting.

Strong hands caught her shoulders, steadied her. “Are you okay? Why don’t you sit down for a sec?”

He wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders and led her over to the leather sofa in front of the fireplace, sitting on the coffee table across from her, his gaze fixed on her, his two big hands taking hold of hers.

She found herself staring back at him, this man from her memories—memories from another life. He seemed out of place here, her past now standing right here in her present. A trill of panic shot through her.

She drew her hands away, words spilling out of her. “I didn’t think I would ever . . . I never expected . . . I didn’t know you’d be here, and . . .”

“Small world, isn’t it?” He smiled. “Nate and I are old friends.”

It was then she noticed that the room had fallen silent, apart from the chatter of children playing down the hall. She looked up to find everyone watching her. Feeling strangely exposed, she shifted her gaze to the fireplace.

Javier leaned in. “Why don’t we find someplace quiet where we can talk?”

A chance to talk with him in private. “Yes.”

“Try the library,” she heard Nate say.

She got to her feet, following Javier down the hallway and into a spectacular two-story library with its own fireplace. Under normal circumstances the room would have made her smile with delight. Today, it was just a room. She sat in front of the fire in a soft leather wingback chair, her gaze drawn to him. He sat down not in the chair beside her, but across from her, as if to give her room to breathe.

She needed it. For so long he’d been just a memory, a man with whom she’d spent one precious, luxurious, uninhibited weekend. And now he was here.

“Are you okay?” His eyebrows pressed down in a concerned frown. “Can I get you something to drink—that bubbly water Jack promised you?”

“No, I’m fine. I was just . . . surprised.” An understatement.

“Sorry to give you a shock. I had no idea there was any connection between you and Nate until he told me you might come to the barbecue.”

“Please don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.” She allowed herself to look at him, to really look at him. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

Oh, he was a beautiful man—dark, exotic, sensual. Some men were intelligent. Some were tall. Some were sexy. Some had thick hair or broad shoulders or natural athleticism. Some had lips that made women long to kiss them.

Javier had it all.

His short, dark hair had a bit of curl, his nose straight, his jaw strong. High cheekbones, full lips, and long lashes added a boyish touch to his otherwise masculine face. He was muscular without being bulky, broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist.

She’d noticed him the moment she’d walked into the restaurant in Dubai. Wearing a dark T-shirt that stretched across the muscles of his chest and shoulders, he’d stood out in a room full of European businessmen in suits and Arabs wearing traditional kanduras and gutras. When he’d come to her table to rescue her from those drunk Russians, she’d known they would end up in bed. Despite what Derek Tower might think, she didn’t make a habit of sleeping with men she met in bars. Javier was the exception, and she hadn’t regretted it. He’d been the most giving lover she’d ever had—sensual, focused, attentive to the smallest details.

Something stirred inside her at the memory, something she hadn’t felt in a very long time—physical attraction.

And her sense of panic grew.

She’d thought about him for so long, wondered what it would be like to see him again. Now she knew. It was like being slapped in the face with the life she’d lost, with the life that Al-Nassar had stolen from her.

“Neither have you.”

She gave a little inadvertent laugh. “We both know that’s not true.”

“I’m so sorry about what happened. I saw the news broadcast when you were taken. I . . . I’ve never felt so damn helpless in my entire life.”

Laura didn’t know what to say. Most people avoided mentioning her abduction and what had followed.

He stood, walked to the fireplace, added wood to the blaze. “I followed your story. What you did took brains and guts. Speaking to them in their own language. Using their culture and beliefs to force them to see you as a human being. Yielding on the outside but fighting to stay strong on the inside.”

He spoke the words matter-of-factly, but when he turned back to face her, his gaze was soft with sympathy.

Laura looked away, his praise making her uncomfortable. She didn’t deserve it, any of it. “I’m just lucky I was able to speak Arabic and—”

“Luck had nothing to do with it.” His tone was adamant, brooking no challenge. “I have a world of respect for you, Laura.”

She looked up, willed herself to meet his gaze again. If those words had come from anyone else—her mother, her grandmother, her therapist—she would have dismissed them as nothing more than attempts to distract or console her. But coming from Javier, they seemed to slip inside her.

“I would have gotten in touch with you a long time ago, but I’ve been out of the country most of the past two years. And when I didn’t hear from you, I thought maybe you didn’t want contact.”

“We said no strings.” She changed the subject. She couldn’t go there. She just couldn’t. “How do you know Nate?”

“He and I served together in Afghanistan.”

“So you are military.” She found herself smiling. “I knew it.”

A dark eyebrow arched. “Oh, yeah? What gave it away?”

“You just have that look.”

The other brow arched. “What look?”

But there was something important she needed to say. “It’s good to see you again, Javier, but you should know that I . . . I’m not the same person I was in Dubai. Too much has happened since then.”

She hoped he understood what she was trying to tell him. This wasn’t going to be like last time. She wasn’t going to rip off her clothes and fall into bed with him. Even if she’d wanted a relationship, a lover, she couldn’t have one. She didn’t think she was capable of enjoying sex right now. Besides, her body had changed.

If they slept together, he would discover the stretch marks on her belly, and he would know she’d had a baby. She couldn’t share that secret with anyone—not yet, not until Klara was safely with her here in the U.S.

“I’m not going to make demands of you. I’ve got no expectations.” His lips curved in a lethal lopsided grin. “But it is good to see you, too, bella.”

Bella. Beauty.

That was what he’d called her in Dubai.

She looked away. “So . . . what branch of the military were you in?”

“The navy.” He seemed to hesitate for a moment. “I’m a SEAL.”

* * *

“YOU’RE A . . . A SEAL?”

“It’s not something I’m supposed to spread around.” Javier watched some of the tension leave Laura’s body and found himself feeling both pride at her reaction and annoyance at the fact that she seemed more at ease with him as a frogman than as the man who’d made love with her.

“I’m sure you already know this, but a team of SEALs saved my life. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her motions revealing dark bruises around her wrist where that bastard Tower had grabbed her.