Cedar Cove Collection. Debbie Macomber

… just some information. He’s so … odd. What can you tell me about him?”

      Teri had never really asked. James was James, and she’d heard very little about his background. He seemed too private for nosy personal questions. “He’s Bobby’s friend as much as he is his driver.”

      “What does he do all day? When he isn’t driving you or Bobby around, I mean.”

      “Well, sometimes he waits for me at the shop—doing his bodyguard thing. Why do you ask?”

      “I’m curious, that’s all. It’s not like I’m interested or anything, you understand?”

      “Of course not,” Teri said, glad Christie couldn’t see her smile.

      “In fact, the last time he took me home, I told him I didn’t want him to drive me again.”

      “Oh.” Bobby hadn’t said a word to her about that, and Teri suspected James hadn’t mentioned it to him.

      “He didn’t do or say anything to upset you, did he?” Teri asked.

      “Nothing bad, if that’s what you’re talking about, but he … he brought me a long-stemmed red rose. Twice.”

      Teri didn’t think that was so terrible. “How sweet,” she murmured.

      “Why would he do something like that?” Christie demanded.

      Teri had been right all along. James was attracted to her sister and, if she was reading Christie correctly, her sister was attracted to him. But Christie was afraid in exactly the same way Teri had been when Bobby had first started paying attention to her.

      “Do you want me to ask him about the roses?” Teri asked.

      “No! Please don’t.”

      “Okay.”

      “I don’t like him.”

      Teri arched her eyebrows. “Really?”

      “He’s so … refined. It makes me uncomfortable. He calls me miss. That’s such an outdated term! And he … he insists on escorting me to my door. Except the last time,” she rushed to add, “when I didn’t give him the chance.”

      “I know his mother was English and his father an American.” That much she’d heard from Bobby once.

      That didn’t seem to be the information Christie was looking for.

      “Do you want me to say anything to Bobby?” Teri asked. “Tell him you’d prefer not to have James drive you?”

      Her sister hesitated briefly, then murmured, “Maybe not. I guess it doesn’t really matter.”

      They ended the conversation soon after. When she hung up, Teri did a little dance around the kitchen, grinning madly. Bobby watched her, smiling, too.

      “What’s that all about?” he asked.

      “It’s working, Bobby Pin! Christie has definitely noticed James.”

      “Good.”

      “He brought her a rose.”

      Bobby frowned in disapproval. “Just one?”

      “Trust me—one was all he needed. Only … she’s afraid.”

      “Afraid?” he repeated.

      Teri walked over to where he sat, climbed into his lap and slipped her arms around his neck. “I was afraid, too. Don’t you remember?”

      “All I remember is how frightened I was that you might not love me.”

      His words melted her heart. “Oh, Bobby, I’ve always loved you.”

      “I’m glad,” he said simply.

      They exchanged a few very gratifying kisses, and then Teri left to make dinner.

      She’d just begun frying hamburger for one of her comfort-food casseroles when she started to retch. The aroma of cooking meat triggered a nausea so severe, she immediately rushed to the downstairs powder room. Thank goodness for a house with four bathrooms! She didn’t think she could’ve made it up the stairs.

      Bobby must have heard, because he was in the hallway outside waiting for her when she’d finished throwing up. “Are you sick?” he asked urgently.

      “I’m okay,” she insisted.

      “Flu? Food poisoning? Should I phone the doctor?”

      “I’m fine,” she said again.

      “I’ll call for James.”

      “Bobby, no!”

      A deep frowned creased his face as he studied her.

      “I’m perfectly okay now,” she assured him. “Dinner will be ready soon, but if you don’t mind, I think I’ll pass.”

      Bobby didn’t take his eyes off her and Teri sighed. She was doing her husband a grave disservice by keeping the pregnancy a secret.

      “I need to talk to you,” she whispered. Taking him by the hand, she guided Bobby back into the living room and urged him down onto the sofa. Then she sat in his lap again and rested her head on his shoulder.

      Bobby held her close.

      Teri wondered how to lead up to her revelation and then decided on the direct approach. “I’m pregnant,” was all she said.

      For a moment he didn’t say anything, but when she leaned back to get a better look at his face, he gave her the biggest, sweetest smile, a smile of such joy that tears threatened to fill her eyes.

      “I’m due in March.”

      He accepted the news with his usual composure. “You will be a good mother.”

      “I want to be.”

      “Childbirth will be easy. You have wide hips.”

      She rolled her eyes. “From what I’ve heard, it won’t be that easy, no matter how wide my hips are. And do we have to keep talking about my size?”

      Bobby ignored that. “I’ll be there with you.” He pressed his forehead to hers and laughed. “A baby,” he murmured. “A baby.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard him sound so happy. The stress of the past few weeks had taken its toll on him, and she was afraid this pregnancy would only add to his worries.

      Then, just as suddenly as he’d begun to laugh, he stopped. The happiness seemed to drain out of him. The change in him was so complete, so striking, that Teri instantly realized he was worried about her, frightened by the Russian’s threat.

      “The baby is why you’ve been so tired lately?” he asked anxiously. “And why you were sick?”

      She nodded. “The nausea’s going to end very soon—most women only have it for the first three months, and I’m almost there now. So don’t worry about me. Promise you won’t.”

      “I’ll try.”

      “I want you to be happy.” All she needed to do was look in his eyes to see the truth. Bobby was ecstatic—and at the same time, terrified.

      The doorbell buzzed, and Bobby let her go. She wasn’t expecting any deliveries, nor had she invited any family or friends. Although, now that she thought about it, she wouldn’t be opposed to seeing Christie. Or Rachel. She felt like celebrating. Telling Bobby seemed to make the pregnancy official.

      As soon as she opened the door, Teri recognized her mistake in not checking the peephole first. At least ten people stood on the other side, crowded together, each angling for position. Cameras flashed and Teri instinctively raised her hands to her face.

      “Are you Bobby Polgar’s wife?” someone shouted at her.

      “Who