The Baby Gift. Day Leclaire

his heart, filling it, expanding it, inflaming it. The chase didn’t last long. He captured her in his arms and they tumbled into a bed of powder-soft snow. Her long, cornsilk hair spread around her in a halo of rosy-gold, framing Rhonda’s bold, handsome features and distinctive hazel eyes.

      “Home is where your heart is, darlin’,” she whispered. “Where do you keep your heart?”

      “You’ll always have it.”

      “Promise?”

      “Promise.”

      “And you’ll always have mine.”

      She lifted her mouth to his and he was helpless to resist. He wanted her. Needed her.

      Took her.

      Alessandro awoke with a start, the fragments of his dream clinging with relentless determination. He groaned. Rhonda again. It defied understanding—not just because he continued to dream about a woman he hadn’t loved in years, but also because the events in his dreams had never happened. It took a full minute to separate fantasy from reality and realize what had disturbed his sleep.