My Heart's Desire by Jo Goodman

quite clear, easily understood, yet there was an undercurrent between them that hinted of something not so simply defined. Her eyes widened slightly, caught and held by his as he rose from the chair and approached her. Rennie suddenly found it difficult to breathe. Her heart was beating too loudly; her fingers twisted the fabric of her gown. She wanted to take a step back. Instead, she held her ground.
    When Jarret's face was above her, his chest just a hard heartbeat from hers, he stopped. "I could tell you why you don't like it," he said. "But you wouldn't believe me. I could show you, but the promise I made, the one you think you don't understand, won't let me."
    Rennie's shake of her head was barely perceptible. Her eyes never left his. Her voice was a whisper. "You're speaking in riddles."
    "I don't think so." His head lowered a fraction. He was close enough to feel Rennie's breath catch. For the briefest moment his eyes dropped to her mouth.
    Then he abruptly stepped away. "You have company, Miss Dennehy," he said pleasantly, as if the husky menace in his voice had never been. "Your fiancé's come calling."
    Rennie felt as if she'd been tumbling down a deep, dark well, only to be snatched up by the same person who had pushed her over the ledge. "You are a son of a bitch, Mr. Sullivan."
    Jarret's slight smile was his only acknowledgment.
    Brushing past him, Rennie gathered the pieces of her shattered self-confidence and went to meet Hollis in the entrance hall. How was it Jarret had heard his arrival when she hadn't heard anything above the slamming of her own heart?
    Hollis was giving Mr. Cavanaugh his coat. The older man slipped away as Rennie extended her arms to her fiancé.
    "Rennie!" Drawing her in his embrace, Hollis held her tightly. "God, I was glad to hear from you! I read the papers this morning... I didn't know what to think. I was certain there'd be some mention of Nate Houston and our aborted wedding."
    Rennie drew back; her feathered brows were fiercely knit. "You read the paper to see if our wedding fiasco was mentioned?" she asked, appalled. "It's after ten! Didn't it occur to you to come here on your own? To see if I was all right, to find out for yourself what was going on?"
    Hollis's hands rested on Rennie's shoulders. His palms slid down her arms until he cupped her wrists. He gave her a small, patronizing shake. "Rennie, Rennie. What's happened? You're acting completely out of character." He tried to lead her into the parlor, but she pulled out of his light grasp. He saw her wince and looked down at her wrists. The bruising just below the cuffs of her gown was clearly visible. "Did I just do that?" he asked.
    Tears sprang immediately to Rennie's widely spaced emerald eyes. Hollis's figure shimmered in front of her. That he could demonstrate such concern and fear of his own strength moved Rennie deeply. After a moment she allowed herself to be enfolded against his wide chest and powerful shoulders. This bear of a man, with his husky frame and broad, appealing face, could be fierce and threatening when he was challenged, but he would never hurt her.
    Hollis patted her lightly on the back of the head, satisfied that his world had been righted again. He urged her gently into the parlor, eased her onto the sofa, and poured her a small glass of sherry.
    "It's too early for that," she said, when he handed the glass to her.
    "Nonsense. It will calm your nerves."
    He sat down beside her, aware that Rennie's misty eyes were darting around the room. "Are you looking for something?" he asked.
    Rennie laughed weakly, mostly out of relief that Jarret Sullivan wasn't lurking somewhere in the parlor. "No, it's nothing. May I borrow your handkerchief?"
    It was a source of some annoyance to Hollis that Rennie never seemed to have her own. Under the circumstances he thought it better not to hint at it again. "Certainly," he said, passing it along. She wiped her eyes and tucked it under the cuff of her sleeve. Hollis