The Millionaire's Homecoming. Cara Colter

her own life, thank you very much.

      Despite her discomfort, Kayla could not help but notice the details of the gorgeous vehicle. Sleek and posh, the subtle statement of a man who had parlayed his substantial talent for being able to discern the right thing into a sizable fortune and an amazing success story.

      Not like Kevin.

      Again, the thought came from nowhere, as if somehow David’s close proximity was coaxing to the surface feelings she did not want to acknowledge about her late husband.

      Guilt washed over her. And then she just felt angry. She had tried so, so hard to put Kevin back together again, and not a word from David.

      The ride with him was mercifully short given that his scent—masculine and clean—was mingling with the scent of sun on leather, and tickling at her nostrils. In minutes, his driving fast, controlled and superb, they arrived at the small village emergency clinic.

      For practical purposes it was located adjacent to the public beach where the huge influx of summer visitors didn’t always recognize the dangers hidden beneath the benign scene of a perfect summer.

      But David knew them. He knew those dangers intimately. Kayla was aware of David’s shoulders tightening as he pulled into the parking lot.

      He got out of the car and she followed, watching as he went still and gazed out over the nearby beach.

      Fried onion and cooking French fries smells wafted out of the concession and the sand was dotted with the yellow-striped sun umbrellas rented from a stand. Out on the water, people who didn’t have a clue what they were doing paddled rented kayaks and canoes.

      Teenagers had laid claim to the floats that swayed on sparkling waters, and bikini-clad girls shrieked as boys splashed them or tried to toss them in the water.

      Toddlers played with sand buckets, mothers handed out sandy potato chips and farther back, among the cottonwoods, grandmothers sat in the deep shade engrossed in books or crossword puzzles.

      The lifeguards, alone, were not in fun mode. They sat in high chairs, watching, watching, watching.

      She hadn’t been there that day it had happened. The day that had changed all of them forever. David was looking at one of the lifeguards, frowning.

      What did David see? She saw a young man who was slouched in his chair, looking faintly bored behind sunglasses, as he endlessly scanned the waters between the sand and the buoys that ended the designated swimming area.

      For a moment the expression on David’s face was unguarded, and she could see sorrow swim in the depths of those amazing eyes. Her animosity toward him flagged. Was it possible that like Kevin, he could not put it behind him?

      “David?” She touched his arm.

      He broke his gaze and looked at her, momentarily puzzled, as if he didn’t know who she was or where he was.

      “It was a long time ago,” she said softly.

      He flinched, and then shook off her arm. “I don’t need your pity,” he said quietly, his voice cold and hard-edged.

      “It wasn’t pity,” she said, stung.

      “What was it, then?” His voice sounded harsh.

      She hesitated. “A wish, I guess.”

      “A wish?”

      “That it could somehow be undone. That we could have been the same people we were before it happened.”

      For a moment he looked like he was going to say something, and that he bit it back with great effort.

      “Wishes are for children,” he said grimly.

      “And that’s the day childhood ended for you,” she noted softly.

      “No, it isn’t. I wasn’t a child anymore.” He didn’t say neither was Kevin, but she heard it as clearly as if he had spoken it. “It was the day childhood ended for her. Not us. That little girl who drowned.”

      “It wasn’t your fault.”

      “No,” he said firmly, “It wasn’t.”

      Which left the cold, hard truth about whose fault it had been. It had been an accident. A terrible tragedy.

      But somehow he had always blamed Kevin, never forgiven him. David’s hard attitude had been part of what destroyed him.

      That’s what Kayla needed to remember when she was leaning toward him, thinking illicit thoughts about his lips and admiring how posh his car was.

      “It was an accident,” she said, “There was a full investigation. Ultimately, it was an accident. Her parents should have been watching more closely.”

      His eyes narrowed on her. “How long did he tell you that before you started believing it?”

      “Excuse me?”

      His tone was furious. “Her parents weren’t trained lifeguards. How would they know that drowning isn’t the way it is in the movies? Would they know sometimes there is not a single sound? Not a scream? Not a splash? Not a hand waving frantically in the air?

      “He knew that. He knew that, but you know what? He wasn’t watching.”

      Kayla could feel the color draining from her face. “You’ve always blamed him,” she whispered. “Everything changed between the two of you after that. How could you do that? You were his best friend. He needed you.”

      “He needed to do his job!”

      “He was young. He was distracted. Anybody could be distracted for a second.”

      “The end of our friendship doesn’t just fall on my shoulders,” David said quietly. “Kevin wouldn’t talk to me after the investigation. He was mad because I told the truth.”

      “What truth?”

      He drew in his breath sharply, seemed to consider.

      “Tell me,” she said, even though she had the childish desire to put her hands over her ears to block what he was going to say next.

      “He was flirting with a girl. Instead of doing his job.”

      She knew David rarely swore, but he inserted an expletive between his and job that could have made a soldier blush.

      “He was over there by the concession not even looking at the water.”

      “He was already going out with me!” she said, her voice a squeak of outrage and desperation. “That’s a lie.”

      “Is it?” he asked quietly. “I was coming on shift. I wasn’t even on duty. I looked out at the water and I knew something was wrong. I could feel it. There was an eeriness in the air. And then I saw that little girl. She had blond hair and she was facedown and her hair floating around her head in the water. I yelled at him as I went by and we both went out.”

      “You’re lying,” she whispered again.

      He looked at her sadly. “It was too late. By the time we got to her.”

      “Why would you tell me something so hurtful?” she demanded, but her voice sounded weak in her own ears. “Why would you lie to me like that?”

      His eyes were steady on her own.

      “Have I ever lied to you, Kayla?” he asked quietly.

      “Yes!” she said. “Yes, you have.”

      And then she turned and practically ran from him before he could see the tears streaming down her face.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      DAVID’S HAND LANDED on her shoulder, and he spun her around.

      “When?” he demanded. “When did I ever lie to you?”

      “We kissed that