Honourable Intentions. Catherine Mann

with a baby, but leaving a half hour earlier than expected was darn near impossible.

      Still, she was determined to go before Hank showed up. His sudden arrival last night, his words, his touch—just the sound of his voice—had tipped her world upside down. The twisted sheets and coverlet on her bed attested to how he’d plagued her dreams. First, he’d been wearing a mask, dark and mysterious with blues music and fog wrapping around him. Then she’d been the one in disguise, but her mask took on a more sensual tone, her clothes and inhibitions falling away… .

      Nerves tingling to the roots of her hair, she turned away from her brass bed. In her dreams, she’d spent the entire night there with him. She did not need more time with him today, especially not when she was so emotional over her son. She would just leave Hank a message on his voice mail once she got in her car.

      She slipped the floral baby sling over her neck and settled her sleeping son inside. Today’s blood work would bring them one step closer to having the surgery behind them. Two days from now, her son would have the procedure and life could return to normal.

      Whatever normal was anymore.

      She backed out the door, working her key down the locks. Hank’s warning about the neighborhood, about providing for her child, tugged at her conscience. She turned around and pulled up short.

      Hank sat on her top step. No Top Gun flight jacket today. He wore jeans and a button-down, loafers without socks. Old-school aviator glasses rested on top of his head without making a dent in his close-cropped brown hair. He had a casual air that worked for him without even trying.

      How did he pull that off this early in the morning?

      “Uh, Hank, what are—”

      He held up a hand, and he gripped his iPhone in the other hand as he… played a game? The squawk, squeak and explosion noises coming from the handheld increased until a final blast and victory tune filled the morning. Hank didn’t fist pump, but he smiled before tucking away his phone and reaching for his coffee beside him.

      Shoving to his feet, he dusted off his jeans and slid his sunglasses down from his head and in place over his eyes. “Are you ready?”

      She was so jangled from the explicit images of her dreams that she felt them simmer through her even now. She couldn’t seem to draw a breath, as if just having him here stole all the air around her. Fighting for some distance, she shot him a level gaze and hoped her emotions didn’t show.

      “How long have you been there, and how did you get past the front gate?” She eyed the wrought-iron entry at the top of the alley. Still locked up tight. She looked back at Hank. “Well?”

      “I’ve been waiting for twenty-five minutes to go with you to the doctor’s appointment. As for how I got in, suffice it to say I’ve made my point about security.” He drained his coffee cup with a final long swallow.

      “Fine, you’re right.” She sighed and yanked off the diaper bag. She thrust it against his chest. “Make yourself useful and carry this.”

      Grabbing the handrail, she started down the stairs.

      “Yes, ma’am.” He laughed softly, his footsteps sounding behind her.

      His laughter taunted and turned her inside out all at once. God, he made her mad at the way he assumed he could thrust himself into her life, and she was even madder at herself for the leap of excitement over finding him waiting for her. “My car’s parked in a lot a block away.”

      “I have my car right out front. I’ll drive.” He took her keys from her hand and opened the wrought-iron gate.

      “You don’t have an infant seat.”

      “Wrong. I do.” He palmed her waist, guiding her past the shopkeeper sweeping beads and other Mardi Gras tokens littering the sidewalk.

      “It’s not even eight in the morning. Did the Renshaw-Landis influence make a baby seat appear in the night?”

      He peered over the top of his aviator shades, blue eyes piercing and too darn appealing. “I went to Walmart Supercenter. Open twenty-four hours.”

      “Renshaws shop at Walmart?” She closed the gate behind her, stepping into her sleepy city and aware from the draw of just a look from Hank.

      “For a car seat at midnight. Yeah.” He pitched his coffee cup into a street trash can, then fished keys from his pocket and thumbed the automatic lock. Lights flashed on a dark blue Escalade. Not tricked out. Just understated wealth.

      “Nice,” she conceded. “Definitely more comfortable than my five-year-old little hatchback.”

      Forcing him to fold himself into her tiny econo car would be silly and pointless. In fact, fighting him every step of the way could be more telling than just going with the flow, pretending they were still simply friends.

      He opened the back door and tossed in the diaper bag. “And does the infant seat meet with your approval?”

      “Let me see… .” She checked the belt, making sure he’d installed it properly.

      “The air force trusts me with a B-52. I think you can trust me to follow instructions.”

      “It’s my child’s safety. I have to be sure.” And she found nothing wrong.

      Wow. It had taken her three hours to figure one of these out. She eased Max from the sling, her son so small in her hands, so perfect. Love and protectiveness welled up inside her—along with gratitude that Hank had gone to such trouble to make sure her baby had everything he needed.

      Hank had to be exhausted, just back from overseas, then immediately on the road to see her. No wonder he needed the coffee. Her mouth watered at the thought of having a taste of something she’d been denied since getting pregnant with Max… .

      Uh, coffee. She missed coffee and chocolate and spicy foods, things she gave up while breastfeeding.

      “Gabrielle?” Hank stood in the open door, her beautiful historic city behind him.

      Her adventure. She’d started out here with such plans for taking the world by storm, launching a powerful career in international banking. Now she just wanted to help her child get healthy.

      “Right, let’s go before we’re late.”

      She clicked Max in securely and thought about staying in back with him. But he was already asleep again and Hank was holding the passenger door open for her. Without another thought, she shuffled into the front, and Hank pulled out into the early morning traffic.

      His GPS spoke softly. Of course he’d already plugged in the address for the hospital where Max would have his pre-admission blood work. Outside the car, people walked to work in business clothes. A mom pushed her kid in a stroller, passing by a homeless guy sleeping in a doorway. New Orleans was such a mix of history and wealth, poverty and decay. The city had looked different to her before her son was born. Her plans had looked different.

      Hank’s phone chimed from where he’d placed it on the dash. He glanced at the LED screen and let it go to voice mail. It was the same phone she’d seen him playing with earlier.

      “I wouldn’t have pegged you as the video game type.”

      He glanced over with barely a half smile, so serious for a guy who’d been blasting digital bugs on her steps. “I went to a military high school. One of my roommates was a computer geek.”

      “He got you hooked on games?”

      “You could say so. His computer access was limited in school—conditions of not going to jail for breaking into the Department of Defense mainframe.”

      Her eyes zipped to his phone. “How did I never know you attended a military high school? Or that you’re into video games?”

      “You and I spent most of our time together keeping things light.”

      They had always avoided more