Jack opened his mouth to say something more, something to give him a reason to linger near her for a moment longer. But when he heard the elderly women making their goodbyes to the manager, he knew it was time to go. He’d decided he didn’t want Eleanor’s landladies to see him with their charge. Why such a thing would matter, he didn’t know. But he needed this moment, this meeting, to be between him and Eleanor, no one else.

“Will you be all right here alone?” He paused, then couldn’t resist adding, “Perhaps I should wait until your husband returns.”

He knew full well that there had been no male accompanying the women, but he had to know for sure.

Eleanor’s lips twitched in a faint smile. “There is no husband,” she said patting her stomach gently. “And I’ll be fine. Thank you. My companions seem to be coming back.”

“Then I’ll be on my way.”

He touched her then. He couldn’t help it. He had to lay his hand over her shoulder and squeeze ever so slightly.

A bolt of white-hot energy shot through his body. It took all the will he could muster to tear himself away and walk resolutely into the dining room.

“Do you mind telling me why we’re in such a hurry to get out of Denver?” One-Eye asked as he dropped his duffel bag on the floor and planted his hands on his hips.

“We’re not in a rush,” Jack reassured him. “I just want to catch the first flight this morning, that’s all.”

One-Eye snorted. “There’s another one leaving in three hours. Why wake us both at the crack of dawn?”

Jack didn’t bother to answer the man. After a restless night, haunted by dreams of Eleanor Rappaport, he was in no mood to humor anyone. He wanted to be rid of Denver as soon as possible.

“If you were to ask me,” One-Eye continued without urging, “I’d say your recent concussion must have rattled some of your marbles. You’re as jumpy as a one-armed man in a boxing ring. You ought to relax, see the sights. We could take in a tour of the Mint or one of the local resorts. There’s baseball, or…”

Barely listening to One-Eye’s monologue, Jack packed his belongings into a canvas bag and called the airline to confirm their tickets. Then, after ushering One-Eye from the room, he allowed the older man to drive to the airport, all the while enduring his chatter about the sights they would miss.

Once at the airport Jack paid for the car with his credit card, casting glances at the bold digital clock that ticked off the minutes to his flight. He and One-Eye would have to hurry.

Spurred by his thoughts, Jack rushed to the waiting shuttle bus. “Come on, One-Eye, or we’ll miss our plane.”

“Coming!” One-Eye grumbled, clearly loath to hurry any more than he had already.

Once the bus had dropped them off at the terminal, Jack checked the overhead monitors, then loped in the direction of the underground train, which would take them to the proper boarding gate. With each jarring step, his head pounded more fiercely, and his chest grew tight with something akin to guilt.

But why should he feel guilty? He’d come to Denver, seen Eleanor Rappaport and reassured himself that she was dealing with her blindness. What more could anyone demand of him? He wasn’t indebted to her in any way. The accident all those months ago had been just that…an accident. Even Eleanor Rappaport’s mother had insisted as much, according to the news report Jack had seen the morning after the incident. No charges had ever been filed against any of the people involved, no lawsuits begun.

So he shouldn’t feel anything but relief in escaping Colorado.

As he emerged onto concourse B, Jack heard their flight being announced and breathed a sigh of relief. He and One-Eye had arrived in time to board, but were late enough that Jack wouldn’t have to sit in the terminal and ponder the strange events that had brought him to this place. Within hours he would be in Los Angeles, back in his apartment, back in his normal routine.

Jack dodged around the other travelers, taking the escalator steps two at a time, while One-Eye trotted after him like a devoted puppy.

As soon as they arrived in Los Angeles, Jack would arrange some time off for himself. After a few weeks of rest and relaxation, he would be fine. He was sure of it. He wouldn’t think about Denver. Or Eleanor Rappaport. He wouldn’t wonder what could have happened if he’d stayed for one more day….

Stay. Just one more day, something inside him whispered.

No. He couldn’t. He needed to get back home.

“Your ticket, sir?”

Too late he realized he’d been standing in front of the check-in counter, staring into space while a pretty airline employee waited to process his boarding pass.

“Your ticket?”

“Sure.” He dragged the crumpled documents from his breast pocket, but as he handed them to the flight attendant, he was suddenly loath to let go. He became abruptly aware of the throbbing of his head and the aches of his weary body.

Funny, but when he’d been talking to Eleanor, he hadn’t remembered his injuries. He’d been so involved with her he hadn’t given himself another thought.

“Sir?”

Blinking, he stared at the too-pretty face of the flight attendant. But even as he stared at the woman, he found himself struck with a sudden thought. How was Eleanor going to take care of a child? What steps had she taken for the baby’s arrival? It was obvious that Eleanor had adjusted to a life alone, but what about the challenges of caring for an infant as well?

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I—”

The throbbing in his head increased. A tight band of worry tightened around his chest.

One-Eye touched his arm in concern. “Jack? What is it? You’ve gone as white as a sheet.”

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “Nothing, I—”

But he couldn’t finish the sentence. If he left, he would always wonder about Eleanor and her baby. Hell, he didn’t even know for sure if she was alone. He knew nothing about her other than she lived with two elderly women in an aging brownstone.

So who was the baby’s father? Had Eleanor been abandoned? Had she been abandoned because of her blindness?

Nausea gripped his stomach, and his anxiety increased.

Holding the ticket more firmly, Jack tried to extend it again, but as he did the sickness intensified. The clerk nearly tore it from his fingers, but he barely noticed.

Dammit all to hell, what was happening to him? He had no business insinuating himself in Eleanor Rappaport’s life.

The attendant peered at him in concern. “Your friend is right, sir. You do look pale. Are you sure you don’t want me to…”

The words flowed around him like thick honey, but Jack couldn’t grasp their meaning. Not when he was being flooded with an overwhelming dread. In an instant he knew that if he stepped on that plane, he would be making one of the biggest mistakes in his life.

“Dammit,” he whispered to himself.

Go back, a voice whispered inside him. You have to go back to her.

“No.”

Too late, he realized he’d spoken the word aloud, because both the flight attendant and One-Eye were studying him strangely.

Cursing under his breath, Jack turned and strode in the opposite direction.

“Sir? Your ticket!”

He didn’t stop. He didn’t pause. Vaguely he heard One-Eye running after him, but all Jack could think about was that he would have to confront Eleanor Rappaport again. Soon.

JACK HAD ORIGINALLY SUPPOSED that once his decision was made, he would grow comfortable with the thought of seeing Eleanor Rappaport again. But he wasn’t.

That fact alone was completely unsettling. He was a man who was accustomed to putting his life in danger. He made a living from such a practice. So why should a mere slip of a woman unsettle him so completely?

Shying away from an answer he sensed he wasn’t quite ready to examine, he vowed to approach this problem in a logical manner. He would plot each angle, investigate every possibility, just as if Eleanor Rappaport were a stunt to be choreographed.