Hugging her felt good. Familiar. But it didn’t do a damn thing for him. Too bad. Nicole would have been a whole lot easier to handle than Claire.

“I’ve missed you, too,” she grumbled. “Everyone’s leaving me. Have you noticed that pattern? First Drew—”

“You threw him out.”

“Then Jesse.”

“You threw her out, too. You’re right. There is a pattern.”

“Shut up. I didn’t throw out Claire or you.”

“If you could have tossed me across the room, you would have.”

“Maybe,” she admitted, then made her way to the sofa and collapsed. “I’m back to work and maybe not taking it as easy as I should. I hurt.”

“Can I get you something?”

She looked at him. “How about Claire?”

“She’ll come back if you ask her,” he said.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

He did. “She served me with papers saying I don’t have to have anything to do with the baby if that’s what I want. Just sign my name and it’s like it never happened.”

Nicole raised her leg until she could rest her heel on the coffee table. “She told me. I let her think that would solve the problem.”

“It won’t?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re about the most responsible person I know. You’re not letting your own kid disappear from your life. You couldn’t stand it.”

He’d been avoiding that reality, but Nicole was right. Even if he wasn’t crazy about Claire, he wouldn’t walk away from his child. He wasn’t going to sue for custody, but he would insist they work something out.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted. “I never meant for this to happen.”

“I assume you’re talking about more than getting her pregnant.”

“Isn’t that enough?”

“If we were only talking about the logistics of sharing child rearing, you would have already worked out a schedule.”

First Drew, now Nicole. Did everyone know him better than he knew himself?

“I miss her,” he admitted. “I miss seeing her and talking to her. I bought a couple of her CDs, so I can hear her music, but that’s not enough.”

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, and stared at the carpet. “She haunts me. I don’t have to close my eyes to see her. I hear her voice in every moment of silence. Sometimes I think I should go after her, just get on a plane and fly to New York and drag her back here.”

“It would get the message across. What’s stopping you?”

“A lot of things. My history with women.” He remembered what Drew had told him—that he’d broken the family bad luck streak in every other area of his life, why not this one. “Can I make it different with her?”

“You know you can,” Nicole told him. “Besides, it’s not like Claire has a lot of experience. She won’t be as picky as some women would be.”

Despite the aching hole in his heart, he smiled. “Gee, thanks.”

“I live to be helpful. What else?”

The next one was hard to admit. He sucked in a breath. “Do you know who she is? She’s famous and rich. I’m a contractor. I do well. I have a successful business, but what do I have to offer her that she can’t buy herself?”

Nicole slugged him in the arm. She didn’t come close to hurting him, but she’d never hit him before.

“What?” he asked.

“It’s not about stuff, you idiot. It’s never about stuff. Why can’t guys get that? Stuff is usually a substitute we accept when we can’t get what we really want.”

“What do you really want?”

He noticed she didn’t have to think about the answer. Were women born knowing this kind of thing, or did they come up with it as they got older?

“We want to matter,” she said. “We want to be the most important part of your world. We want to know you’d be lost without us, that you ache when we’re gone and count the hours until we’re back. We’ll give you forever, if you just make us believe that.”

That was a lot, Wyatt thought. More than a simple “I love you.” It was about giving of himself, opening up to the possibility of handing her everything and still having her walk away. It scared the crap out of him.

“Is it too late?” he asked, not wanting to hear the answer, but knowing he had to.

Nicole sighed. “I should tell you it is, because you handled most of this pretty badly. But Claire loves you and I love her, so I’ll tell you the truth. No, it’s not. You can still win her. But don’t expect me to tell you how. I’ve already given too much away.”

Amy ran into the room. She saw Nicole and squealed with delight. “You’re here!” They embraced, then his daughter slid onto his lap and hugged him. “Hi, Daddy,” she signed.

There was so much affection and trust in her eyes. He could still pick her up and toss her in the air and she only laughed. It never occurred to her he could drop her or hurt her in any way. Because he never had and he never would. He would give his life for hers a thousand times over. She was his world.

Which is exactly what Claire wanted. To be his world. His everything. The woman of his dreams.

She was that and more. The problem was going to be convincing her.

CLAIRE ADJUSTED the headphones she wore before every performance. She did her best to get lost in the music, lost in the sounds and nuances of the piece. All around her, stagehands spoke into walkie-talkies, making sure the lighting was perfect, the stage cleared of everything but her piano, the curtains ready to open. Someone yelled that it was three minutes. She heard that much, then tuned out the rest of it.

She felt the presence of others. Lisa hovered in the background, ready to take the headphones from her, trying not to look nervous. While the performance was for charity, it was a big deal for both of them. It would be the first time Claire had played in public since she’d totally lost it in the early spring and had to be helped off the stage.Clair opened her eyes. She could see the piano from where she stood. She imagined herself there, the crowd beyond.

Some had come to support the cause. Others were there because they’d heard what had happened before and wanted to know if she had lost it. But most wanted to hear her play. They wanted the gift that flowed from her freak hands.

She looked at her fingers and smiled, knowing she wouldn’t change anything about herself, even if she could. She was exactly what she needed to be.

“Are you all right?” Lisa asked. “Should I not say anything?”

Claire took off the headphones and handed them to her. “I’m fine. Nervous, but in a good way. It’s anticipation, not fear.”

Which was almost the truth. Fear was there, nibbling on the edges of her consciousness, but she ignored it. She knew the music. That was easy. She’d survived the morning rush at the Keyes Bakery. Now that had been hard.

She heard the announcer begin to speak and touched Lisa’s arm. “Thanks for not giving up on me.”

“How could I?”

Life was nothing if not ironic. She and her manager had finally become friends, just when they were going to be working less together.

Claire waited until the curtain began to lift, then she walked to the edge of the stage and out to the center. She paused in front of the piano and faced the large crowd.

There were more people than she’d expected…a sea of expectant faces. The applause washed over her.

She drew in a deep breath, then another. She was nervous, but in a way that would give her an edge to help her do her best. There was no terror, no chest-crushing fear. A sense of contentment, of pride, filled her.

She was about to turn to sit when she saw someone wave at her. She stared into the crowd and recognized Amy. To the girl’s left stood Wyatt. Their eyes met and he smiled at her.

She felt her heart stumble a beat. Her breath got stuck and her whole body trembled. Wyatt? Here?

He was tall and handsome in a black tux, looking as polished as the rest of the crowd. As if he belonged in the city instead of back home in Seattle.

What was he doing here? Had he come to hear her play? Why hadn’t he called?

She wanted to rush into the audience and have him hold her. She wanted him to sweep her away and never let her go. She wanted to know why he’d come to her performance.

Then she remembered the other four hundred plus people who had paid to hear her play. She bowed once and walked to the piano, then sat down.

The concert hall went still. She could feel the expectation filling the space. She put her hands on the keys and began to play.

The music was familiar—an old friend who greeted her with a perfect combination of notes. The ebb and flow of the piece filled her body, then spilled out, transporting her to another plane where there was only amazing beauty in the form of sound.

She forgot about the crowd, she forgot to be nervous. She had found herself again, in this place. It was as it had always been.

No, it was different, she thought in a small corner of her mind. Better. More connected. It was as if by loving, by opening herself to the possibilities, the pain and the hope, she’d become one with the universe.

She was aware of Wyatt, of his watchful attention. She felt only support, though, and it gave her energy and focus. She moved her body as she played, allowing herself to give everything, and when she touched that very last key, she was drained as she had never been before.

There was silence at the end, as there had been at the beginning, but this was different. She looked up and saw amazement in their faces. It was as if she’d managed to stun even the most seasoned patron. As one, the audience rose to their feet and applauded. They screamed her name. A few wiped away tears.

She stood, her exhausted legs trembling to keep her upright. Satisfaction and pride filled her. She smiled and bowed.

As she rose, she met Wyatt’s gaze and saw something there. Need. Maybe even hope and she allowed herself to believe anything was possible.

“OH, MY GOD!” LISA CRIED as the curtains closed for the fourth and final time. “That was amazing. I’ve never heard you play like that. People are going to be talking about this performance for weeks. Whatever you did out there in Seattle worked.”

Claire smiled. “Apparently I really needed a vacation.”“It’s more than that. You’ve changed as an artist. You’re more…” Her manager frowned. “I want to say mature, but that’s not the right word. You’ve found something inside of yourself that was never there before. You’re one with the music.”

“Thank you.”

Lisa sighed. “Ah, they come. Your adoring public. I’ll do my best to keep away the crazies.”

Claire turned to greet those who had the inside track to getting backstage. She remembered enough names to make a good impression and appreciated all the kind words, but her attention was elsewhere, wondering when she would see Wyatt and Amy.

“Riveting. I’ve never heard that piece played so well.”

“The best I’ve ever heard.”

“Dazzling.”

“Extraordinary.”

Claire thanked them, knowing she couldn’t take full credit for what had happened. There was a part of her that had finally been set free, but it wasn’t a conscious act on her part. She suspected it had a lot to do with facing down her fear and growing up, but she wasn’t about to explain that to anyone. Except maybe her family.

At one point, she saw Lisa talking to Wyatt and pointing to the rear of the stage. As that was the way to Claire’s dressing room, she relaxed, knowing they would be there when she was finally able to get away.

Thirty minutes later, she escaped and made her way to her dressing room. She opened the door, her heart thundering, her stomach swirling with anticipation.

Amy launched herself. “I miss you,” she signed as she flew across the room.

Claire caught her and hugged her. “I missed you, too,” she signed, but she only had eyes for Wyatt.

He stood by her dressing table, looking gorgeous and hunky in his tux. She’d missed him so much, she ached, and seeing him now only brought all that pain to the surface. She wanted to go to him, but she knew she had to wait until she found out why he was here. He might simply be delivering the papers she’d left with him.

There was a knock at her door. Lisa stuck in her head.

“I promised Amy a tour of the orchestra pit,” her manager said and held out her hand. “We’ll be about twenty minutes.”

“Thanks,” Wyatt said.

Amy grinned at Claire then skipped out the door.

When the door closed behind them, Claire said, “Lisa’s not really a kid person, but she should be able to manage a tour.”

“Amy’s talked about learning to play drums after she gets her implant,” Wyatt said.

“Technically, in an orchestra, they’re percussionists.”

“Amy’s thinking more about a rock band.”

“Then she’ll be a drummer.”

Wyatt shoved his hands into his slacks’ front pockets. “You were incredible.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ve heard you play before. In the studio at Nicole’s house and at Amy’s school. This was different.”

“I had accompaniment.”

“Not only because of that. It was something different.”

Her heart pounded so hard her chest hurt. She wanted to believe that things were going to work out, but suddenly she wasn’t sure. He wouldn’t look at her. That couldn’t be good.