Daniel's Desire. Sherryl Woods

going upstairs to look for the girl. Not ten minutes ago, you said you had no problem with that.”

      “Well, I do now. You’ll go upstairs over my dead body,” she said, standing defiantly in his path.

      His gaze never wavered. “Your choice.”

      The standoff lasted for what seemed like an eternity, but Molly clearly knew him well enough to realize that he wasn’t going to leave until he’d completed his search. She reached in her pocket, then slapped the key in his palm.

      “Have a ball,” she said sarcastically. “When you get to the bedroom, be sure to spend a few minutes reliving old times. Of course, things aren’t exactly the same. I’ve managed to rid the room of all traces of you.”

      He turned and stalked off before she could see that her jibe had hit home.

      Upstairs, he opened the door to her private quarters, then sucked in a deep breath as a million and one memories assailed him. He’d spent some of the happiest nights of his life in this apartment.

      It still bore the faint scent of Jess’s pipe tobacco, the more recent scent of Molly’s perfume. The carpet was worn bare in spots, and the overstuffed furniture had seen better days, but Molly had added touches that made the place feel cozy rather than shabby. There were fresh flowers in a vase on the table in the tiny kitchen, another vase beside the bed. There was a gallery of framed snapshots on her dresser, but the space where his had been was gathering dust. She’d tossed a bright red chenille spread across the back of the sofa and added a pile of pillows. A stack of well-worn paperbacks, mostly Louis L’Amour westerns, still sat beside Jess’s favorite chair.

      Being here again, absorbing the atmosphere, made Daniel’s heart ache. The pain was deeper because he was here not by invitation, but because he’d intruded. His lack of trust today was just one more thing to be added to the list of his sins he was certain Molly kept in some mental notebook. He doubted there was enough time left in either of their lives for him to make amends.

      Worse, there was no sign of Kendra Morrow, so he’d alienated Molly yet again for no good reason. That didn’t mean he believed for one second that Kendra wasn’t around. He had caught a glimpse of her slipping into the kitchen when he’d first arrived—there wasn’t a doubt in his mind about that. If he’d brushed past Molly, he might have caught the girl, but he hadn’t. One of these days he’d try to figure out why. Maybe he’d hoped that, despite everything that had happened between them, Molly would be straight with him. Maybe he’d just wanted an excuse to keep coming around.

      But she hadn’t been straight with him and it was plain that she intended to make this a whole lot more difficult for all of them than it needed to be.

      “I’ll find her eventually,” he told Molly when he’d completed his fruitless search and joined her again in the bar. “Why not make it easier for everyone and cooperate? I’m not going to snatch her away from here. I just want to make sure she’s okay. She can stay with you until Joe and I check things out at her home.”

      Molly evidently didn’t buy the promise. She looked him straight in the eye and said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

      “Have it your way then,” Daniel said with a sigh. “I’ll be back.”

      “I’ll look forward to it.” She gave him a blatantly phony smile. “Does this mean you don’t want that chowder?”

      Daniel knew that was what she wanted. To be honest, leaving was what he wanted, too. Being around Molly under the best of conditions made him edgy, made him want her in a way that was so ridiculous it didn’t even bear thinking about. But because he never took the easy way out, he met her gaze and said evenly, “Of course I want the chowder. Isn’t it the best in Maine?”

      Her gaze narrowed. “We like to think so. I’ll get you a cup. Shall I fix it to go?”

      “I’ll have a bowl. And I think I’ll stick around awhile and see who turns up.”

      Molly frowned at him, but made no further comment as she headed into the kitchen, no doubt to warn Kendra to stay put wherever she was hiding out.

      When Molly finally returned, Daniel regarded her with amusement. “What took so long? Did you have to start from scratch? Maybe go out and dig some fresh clams?”

      “Nope,” she said cheerfully. “Had to find the arsenic.”

      Before he could comment on that, an expression of genuine relief spread across her face.

      “There’s your brother,” she said as if Patrick’s arrival were a good thing, rather than a complication. “I hope you two will play nice. It’s bad for business when there’s a brawl in here.”

      Daniel followed the direction of her gaze to where his twin brother stood perfectly still near the bar. Patrick looked as if he’d like nothing better than to flee, but he sucked in a deep breath, then crossed the room and slid into the booth. That, at least, was progress, Daniel thought. A year ago, Patrick would have acted on his first impulse and left. Their one attempt at making peace appeared to be holding, as long as it wasn’t tested too often.

      “I’ll get you a beer,” Molly said to Patrick, then gave his shoulder a squeeze.

      They sat there in silence until she’d returned with the drink, then hurried away again, clearly relieved to have someone else dealing with Daniel.

      “You look good,” Daniel said finally.

      “Being in love does that for a man,” Patrick said. “Maybe it’s time you tried it.” He waited a beat, cast a pointed look toward Molly, then added, “Again.”

      Daniel didn’t miss the significance of the comment or the look. He wasn’t going to get drawn into that particular discussion, not if he could help it. “Not likely,” he replied. “Too many bad examples all around me.”

      Patrick gave him a wry look. “So, how are the folks?”

      Daniel hadn’t expected him to be so direct. He answered in kind. “They miss you.”

      “The same way they missed Ryan, Sean and Michael?”

      “As a matter of fact, yes. I think not a day has gone by in more than twenty years that they haven’t missed our brothers. I think we suffered for that. What do you think caused all that resentment we never understood?”

      Patrick frowned. “I don’t think about it. Maybe you should get together again with Ryan, Sean and Michael and ask them if they feel any sort of pity for our parents. Trust me, they don’t.”

      “I don’t know. They seemed like reasonable men to me.”

      “Reasonable, yes,” Patrick agreed. “Not gullible.”

      “When are they coming back up here? Mom knows they were here for your wedding. I think it broke her heart that she didn’t get to catch at least a glimpse of them. I think she would have risked coming to the wedding uninvited, if it hadn’t been for Dad. She knew how it would upset him…and you. Maybe she should have, though. Maybe a confrontation then would have put an end to all this.”

      “I’m surprised you didn’t encourage her to do it.”

      “I might have, if you and I hadn’t just started to make peace. I didn’t want to risk that. I thought it was a first step. Only trouble is, we seem to be avoiding taking the next one.”

      Patrick sighed. “You’re right. As soon as I start thinking about the folks, I get this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach again.”

      “See them. Maybe it would go away. Seeing them for the first time is bound to be hard. It’ll get easier after that. Tell Ryan, Sean and Michael that, too. Ask them when they’re coming.”

      “I’m not going to push them,” Patrick said.

      “But you are in touch with them?”

      “Why