Valentine's Day. Nicola Marsh

he muttered, choking back a smile.

      She sighed, glancing at him sideways. “You’re not exactly the Lone Ranger, my friend,” she chided, teasing him back now. “For all you know, you may have destroyed a great love affair.”

      He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You and Randy?”

      “Sure. Why not?” She made a face at him. “Romeo and Juliet. Anthony and Cleopatra. Debbie Reynolds and Eddie Fisher.” She struck a pose. “The names Cari and Randy might have belonged right up there with them all.”

      “All doomed to tragedy,” he noted helpfully. “If a great passion is meant to be it’ll take more than a missed connection to destroy it.”

      “Perhaps.” She flashed him a smile. “And yours, too.”

      His laugh was short and humorless. “C.J. and I aren’t meant for love,” he said cynically. “But we are destined to make beautiful music together.”

      She looked at him with bewilderment. “How can you know that when you don’t even know who she is?”

      He knew enough about C.J. to know she was meant—unfortunately—to be very important in his life. He might not know what she looked like, but he had her number, just the same. His smile was bittersweet as he shrugged, pushing open the outer door to the building for her.

      “Destiny is relentless.”

      “Destiny. Such a strong word.”

      But all that was forgotten as she looked at what they were heading into.

      “It’s starting to rain,” she said with dismay, just as they stepped outside and the door clicked shut behind them.

      “Yes,” Max said, wondering what else could go wrong. Just another layer of bad luck he supposed. But this was getting monotonous.

      “Where’s the car?” she asked.

      “The car?”

      He looked where he’d parked it. The space was empty. His first thought was—did Tito take it? But no. He glanced at the driveway. Tito’s rental car was gone. He looked back at the place where he’d left his newly minted beauty. Sure enough, it was gone, too. His heart sank. And now he knew what else could go wrong.

      He swore coldly and obscenely, and she pulled the baby closer, frowning at him, even though the words were in Italian. Reaching into his pocket, he realized he’d left his mobile in the car, which had now been stolen. He swore again.

      “Where’s your phone?” he asked curtly.

      She shook her head. “I forgot to bring it,” she said.

      He stared at her, unable to believe this string of bad luck wasn’t over yet.

      “My car’s been stolen. You have no phone. I have no phone. We just locked ourselves out of the building and it’s starting to rain.”

      She sighed, shoulders sagging. That was quite a litany of woes. “We’re also stuck in the middle of a rather bad neighborhood,” she reminded him, looking around at the menacing shadows.

      “Not for long.” He picked up the diaper bag and glanced down the street. The lights from downtown were visible in the sky. It was quite evident which way they needed to travel. “We’re going to have to walk, at least until we can flag down a cab. Let’s go. The sooner we start out, the sooner we’ll get there.”

      Cari looked down at her three-inch heels. “Okay,” she said sadly, trying to smile.

      He looked down at them, too. “Those shoes aren’t made for walking,” he noted dryly.

      That was certainly a fact, but her feet sure were cute in them, and what that angle did to her beautiful legs was beyond mentioning. He swallowed hard as the thought came and nestled into his senses. Raising his gaze to her clear blue eyes, he got another jolt of erotic sensation and he shook his head, trying to stave it off. This was no time to let his libido go wild.

      “I could carry you,” he said gruffly, still holding her gaze with his own. “But with the baby and all…”

      “You will not!” she retorted, taking a step away from him. “I can walk. Believe me, I’ve done it for years.” She started off down the street, just to prove it. “I’ll carry the baby. You get the diaper bag. It’s heavier.”

      They set off into the dark neighborhood, trying to ignore the drizzle. Most of the buildings seemed to be industrial and there was no sign of life coming from any that lined the street they were hurrying down. It was downright spooky.

      Max pushed all thought about his beautiful Ferrari out of his mind. There was no point in mourning over a car when he had so many other things to worry about. An occasional driver went by, driving too fast to be flagged down, and there were no people out on the street—at least, none that made their presence known. But there was an eerie feeling, a sort of vague menace. This was not the sort of neighborhood either one of them would have wandered into voluntarily. Bad things tended to happen at night in areas like this.

      Cari was feeling the creepiness as well, and instinctively she held the baby closer. Looking down, she felt a quick surge of tenderness for the child. Babies should be protected from harm and that was what adults where there for. But just as she had that thought, a flash of pain sliced through her. If only she’d been able to protect her own baby from harm. If only Brian had been more careful. If only…

      No. She shook the regrets away. She’d been down that road so many times. Right after the accident that took her husband and her baby, she’d spent months almost drowning in recriminations, all the old “if only” cries of the heart. It had taken time and a bit of counseling to help her pull out of that downward spiral and she never wanted to take a plunge like that again. You could either immerse yourself in the past and die bit by bit, or reach out to the future and make a new life. Slowly, painfully, she was trying to do the latter.

      But for now the past was useful in the training she’d had with her own baby. She seemed to bond naturally with this one, and that felt better than she had any right to expect.

      So she looked over her shoulder, wishing they were in a better neighborhood.

      “Do you have a weapon with you?” she asked Max, not really expecting him to answer in the affirmative, just expressing trepidation.

      “Unfortunately, I forgot to bring my Glock,” he quipped, but she noticed he took a quick look over his shoulder as well. “If only I’d known I’d need it.”

      “There you go,” she said lightly. “I guess you were never a Boy Scout.”

      He gave her a long sideways look. “What would that have done for me?”

      She shrugged her free shoulder and pulled the baby more closely to the other one. “You’d have known about their motto. Be Prepared.”

      “Oh, I’m prepared.”

      “Still, you’re not a real Texan, are you?” She sighed, pretending it was such a pity.

      That was meant to get his goat and it did the job.

      “I’m Italian,” he said with quick native pride. “That’s just as good, you know.” He grunted. “On second thought, it’s better.”

      “Is it?” She gave him a mockingly taunting look. “From what I hear, Italians are pretty emotional, compared to Texans. They talk real fast, yell a lot, say outlandish things.”

      “Sort of like Texans?” He got the joke, but he grinned and played along. “Why not? We enjoy life more than most people do. What’s more, we’re warm, loyal and generous to a fault.” His voice dropped in a husky way that was meant to make her senses quiver. “And we’re the most passionate lovers on earth.”

      She was glad the darkness hid how hot her cheeks suddenly became. The surge of warmth surprised her. She’d fallen for this