The Baby Chronicles. Lissa Manley

we, Aiden?”

      Even though he was bugged by her flip tone, he managed to smile at Joe, not wanting to come off as difficult. He needed this job. Badly. “Colleen and I went to journalism school together.” And I was stupid enough to fall in love with her.

      “Ah. Well, good,” Joe said, inclining his head. “Saves the getting-to-know process.” He looked at Colleen. “Colleen, since you’re familiar with how we put these articles together, why don’t you take Aiden to your office and fill him in.” He looked back to Aiden. “And you fill her in on the plans we discussed on the phone.”

      Aiden’s stomach plummeted. He jumped his gaze to Joe. “She’s the reporter?”

      Joe nodded. “Yup. Is that a problem? She did a great job on ‘The Bridal Chronicles.”’

      Damn. Colleen was the last person Aiden wanted to work with, the last person he’d ever wanted to see again. The bone-deep bitterness he’d felt when she’d thrown his proposal back into his face and ended their relationship reared up like a cobra and bit him hard.

      There was no way he was going to stir up and relive all kinds of bad feelings—pain, betrayal, bitterness—by working with her.

      Slow down, Forbes. This job was his best shot in Portland to gain some attention as a baby photographer. No, he wasn’t about to make waves and come across as difficult to Joe and he wasn’t about to let Colleen take control of his life again. He would find a way to work with her, even if it killed him.

      Aiden arranged his mouth into a smile. “No, not at all.”

      Joe smiled. “Good. Hey, one more thing. I have to tell you, the photos of the kids you sent in with your portfolio blew me away. Got any more?”

      Aiden suppressed a shudder at the mention of the graphic black-and-white pictures of children he’d taken, unable to stop remembering their haunting poignancy. He’d only brought them out to snag this job and never intended to look at or deal with them again. “I gave them to my mom,” he said truthfully. “I have no idea what she’s done with them.” He hoped his tone conveyed how final that explanation was. Nothing could convince him to haul out those photos again.

      Joe nodded. “Ah. All right.”

      Aiden looked at Colleen, needing to move on to getting started. “You ready?”

      Colleen widened her blue eyes, apparently surprised that he was agreeing to work with her. Hell, he was surprised he was agreeing. But this job would be worth it.

      After a long pause, she tersely nodded and stood, smoothing her skirt. Aiden couldn’t help giving her a quick once-over. He had to admit she’d matured well. Her once slender college-girl’s body had blossomed into a curvy, womanly shape, displayed perfectly by the figure-hugging, knee-length navy blue skirt and jacket she wore.

      He stepped back and gestured for her to pass him. “Ladies first.”

      She scooted past, her eyes averted.

      Her scent washed over him—fresh, tangy peaches—stirring up his senses as it always had. His male radar kicked into high gear and he watched her walk away, appreciating her long, willowy legs and the way her rounded hips moved beneath her tight skirt.

      His blood began to percolate. Great. The absolute last thing he wanted was to get a renewed case of the hots for Colleen. Bad, bad idea.

      But, boy, did she look good…

      What the hell am I thinking?

      He’d returned to Portland to reestablish ties with his large family and to get rid of the guilt and dark memories his time overseas had embedded in his brain. He hadn’t come back to get tangled up in a mess like Colleen. She might call to him on a male level he didn’t have much control over, but there was no damn way he was ever going to let her get close enough to knife him in the heart again.

      Feeling marginally better, he said goodbye to Joe and left his office. Nope, Colleen didn’t have the power to affect him any longer.

      After the anguish and searing heartache she’d put him through, he’d make sure of it.

      “I can’t let him get to me,” Colleen said to herself, a bad habit she’d picked up during her early childhood, before foster care, when her parents were always gone and she hadn’t had anyone else to talk to.

      She repeated the words over and over again as she hightailed it toward her office, desperately hoping that if she said the words she would magically be successful.

      But she was a realist. She’d quit believing in magic when she was six and her mother had chosen to spend Christmas with her boyfriend in a hotel room, and her father had taken his new wife on a cruise rather than spend the day with Colleen. She’d been left alone for the day and most of the night, huddled on the couch, watching Christmas movies, tears streaming down her cheeks. She’d been forever changed on that cold, gray day.

      Her innocent love and faith in her parents, along with her little girl’s belief in magic, had died a quick, inevitable death, only to die all over again when they abandoned her to the foster-care system when she was nine. One thought had cemented itself in her brain then, and had a profound influence on the rest of her life. There was something missing inside her, some flaw that kept her from being able to love and nurture a relationship, even with the two people who were supposed to love her no matter what—her mom and dad.

      No, there was no use hoping for a magical solution. She was going to have to deal with Aiden—which meant getting rid of him. He was going to step into her office and she would be sucked back into his appeal. Oh, how she remembered his heart-stopping green eyes, keen sense of humor and wide, generous smile.

      And how cherished she’d felt when she was wrapped in his arms.

      She jerked her thoughts away from useless memories. Feeling warm, she pulled off her jacket and flung it on a pile of overfilled file folders in the corner, then gave in to her wobbly knees and sat down behind her paper-strewn desk.

      Aware that he would arrive any second, she pressed a shaking hand to her chest to calm her jumpy heart, took a deep, cleansing breath and closed her eyes for a moment, summoning up her trustworthy control. She could get through this if she remained calm, cool and unaffected.

      She sat up straight a mere second before Aiden stepped into her cube, instantly filling the drab, messy little space with his large, vibrant self. She forced herself to look directly at him instead of fooling with the voluminous stacks of papers on her desk as she was inclined to do.

      He simply stood in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. His shadowed eyes reflected a shrewd perceptiveness that sent a weird, hot, shivery chill down her spine.

      Of course, he looked too darn good. He always had. It wasn’t surprising that he was still absolutely gorgeous, the epitome, in fact, of her concept of the ideal male. Physically, at least. There was no such thing as an emotionally ideal male for someone like her.

      His tall, once-rangy body had filled out very, very nicely since the last time she’d seen him. His shoulders seemed broader, his arms thicker. An impossibly wide chest, perfectly displayed by the short-sleeved, forest-green knit shirt he wore, looked firmer and more muscled, and tapered down into a taut waist and legs that were long and solid-looking beneath his khaki trousers.

      His mahogany-shaded hair was shorter than she remembered, and he’d gelled the longer hair on top into a funky, spiky texture that somehow complemented his chiseled, masculine features and lightly tanned face.

      But it was his sea-green eyes that, true to her memories, got to her the most. He looked at her, pinning her in place, and she was unable to move a muscle or form a coherent thought. Yes, those incredible eyes had always been able to see into her soul.

      Why can’t you love me, Colly?

      His old question echoed in her head, reminding her of the wall he’d tried to tear down inside her, the love he’d seemed determined to wring from her barren heart.

      The