Kat was ready to trust a man with her heart.

"I'm in love with you too." The foreign words left her feeling vulnerable and yet strangely alive, aware of the electrical charges skipping along her flesh, mixing with his.

Tucker's brow raised, his lips parted slightly. He'd clearly not expected those words. His eyes creased in a tender, gratified smile before a mischievous gleam sparked in them.

"I already knew that, sweetheart. Just didn't expect you to admit it so soon." Kat's face flushed with heat. No one had ever made her blush, except this man. He leaned down, kissed her deeply, and then pulled back to gaze at her, his eyes soft and dreamy. "You might as well brand my ass with a hot iron," he angled down, his lips next to her ear, his hot breath electrifying her skin, "because I've loved you all along, Kathryn James." Then he hugged the breath out of her, lifted her off the ground, and whispered words of forever.

The kind of words that caused a new blush to bloom.

The trip home had taken longer than normal. There'd been a delay; Kat's fault. She'd stripped her curves bare in the front seat of his truck, slid her hands in and around all the places his hands had itched to be. Then she'd draped herself over the seat to wiggle her round ass in his face. The sight in his rearview mirror of the heaven tucked between her thighs had had him nearly flipping the truck. Any breathing man would have done exactly what he'd done: followed her taunting bare ass into the back seat-in broad daylight. Thank the stars for tinted windows and desolate Big Sky roads.

Now their clothes lay strewn about the house and he lay spent, contemplating the stars above him and the woman cooing with satisfaction in his arms. He drew her closer, burrowed deeper into her sweet-smelling hair. He belonged to someone again, and that someone belonged to him too. He'd missed that kind of connection for so long, he'd actually forgotten what it felt like. He breathed out in solemn relief, still unable to believe the fiery woman in his arms had admitted her feelings. He'd been prepared to wait however long it took to win her heart. Now that he had it, he wanted to make sure he deserved it, always.

An unexpected wave of possessiveness rolled through him, left ice in its path, as a face came into focus in his mind's eye: Cameron. Kat had told him everything about the incident with his waste of a brother. Pleased by the memory of her recounting, he squeezed her a bit; his hellcat had definitely taken care of herself before he'd gotten there. But the hate in Cameron's eyes, the warning in his words, had Tucker on alert. The meeting outside the Firetower had been no accident. How did Cameron know she would be there? Or who Kat was? Were there people at the office, or still working on the ranch, with loyalties to Cameron? He didn't have a good feeling about any of it. His thoughts shifted to a private investigator he knew ...

"Tucker, did you hear me?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head to clear it. His chin dipped down, and his vision filled with the gorgeous freckled face of the woman he loved, bathed in an angel's glow of starlight.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, did you say somethin'?" He stroked her hair, threaded his fingers through the silky mane.

She tapped his nose. "Well, I guess you can be forgiven for tuning me out. You have been pretty attentive this evening." Her appreciation stretched into a grin before her lips brushed across his chest. Then she brought her eyes to his. "But after today, we can't keep putting off the inevitable. We need to figure out how this is going to work. Realistically. And since you're a realist, you should be prepared to deal with it." She tugged at his chest hair, held it taut, her expression serious. "Like right now."

He almost chuckled out loud. Did she really think he could have a serious discussion with her naked body pressed up against his? Her leg twined around his, the moist heat between her thighs warming his skin, pulling at him, like a bull with a nose ring. He felt the smile before it spread across his face.

"You just can't relax and let things happen, can you?"

"Are you just now figuring that out, cowboy? I like to plan. I don't like surprises."

He rolled her onto her back, hovered above her. "Well, you're gonna have to relax on this, sweetheart. I'm not agreeing to some arbitrary plan, Kat. We'll work this out as we go. Our way. I'm not worried about it, and you shouldn't be, either." He could tell his answer wasn't going to fly with her.

"Do you want kids?"

The blurted question jerked his head back a bit. He tried to gauge her. "Do you?"

"Oh no, you don't. I asked first. Tell me the truth," she said.

Tucker assessed her in the milky haze. She appeared to be holding her breath.

"Is this some kind of test? If I answer wrong, it's a deal-breaker?"

"It's not a test. I just want to know. That's all."

He wet his lips and wondered why she had to have an answer right this second. With some hesitation, he answered truthfully. "What I want is you. With or without kids. I figure that part's up to you."

Her eyes widened in surprise and then eased into doubt. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just what I said. I don't have some hidden agenda to keep you barefoot and pregnant, if that's what this is about."

"Why not?"

He chuckled and then gripped her arms to keep her from squirming out from underneath him. "I can't win this one, can I?" He dropped down to kiss her, but she angled away. He shook his head and chuckled some more. "Has this been a problem in the past?"

A canvas of discomfort stared up at him. "I don't have a maternal bone in my body, Tucker. I've never had the desire to have children. I don't think that's going to change." She seemed to be waiting for his rebuke.

"Okay. Good to know. Looks like it'll just be you and me, then. I'm fine with that." He answered the disbelief evident on her face. "I'm in this either way, Kat. We'll have a great life-either way."

The tension gradually faded from her face and body. "Really?"

He nodded, a soft smile on his lips. "And if you change your mind someday," his smile turned mischievous, with a wag of his brow and a firm grip on her backside, "you can count on me to help you out, sweetheart." She gave him a playful slug to the shoulder. "See? Nothin' to worry about."

He brushed the bangs away from her eyes. "You need to trust me on this, Kat. There's nothin' about you that's gonna be a deal-breaker for me. Quit lookin' for reasons why this can't work."

She rolled her bottom lip over her teeth, her expression narrowed in thought. "You just seem like the kind of man who would want kids." She paused. "The kind of man who should have kids. I saw how that little boy followed you around the other day when all those kids were here to ride your horses. You were good with him."

"Yeah, that's Kody Sparks. Cute kid. He has taken a shine to me."

"And you to him. It was obvious."

Her whispered words sounded like some kind of question, but to him or to herself, he couldn't be sure.

He searched her face for answers. "What do you want me to say, Kat? I don't hate kids. Never have."

Her mouth opened but hung mute. Tucker shifted to his side and waited for her to formulate her thoughts.

"I don't hate kids, either. I've just never been comfortable around them. In my family, kids were meant to be seen, not heard. We were more like decoration, trained in etiquette and all the social graces-that sort of thing. We were supposed to follow the road already paved for us, no questions asked." She rubbed at her forehead. "You can see how well I followed the rules." She bunched the sheet tight against her chest and lay quiet. A deep exhale seemed to expunge the demon inside.

"The way you were with Kody. The way he hung on you, his arms wrapped around your leg, you ruffling his curly hair. The winks and smiles you two shared ..." She appeared to have drifted away. "He's a lucky little boy." The muttered words were tinged with melancholy.

The back of his fingers skimmed her cheek and then covered her fisted hands.

"I never had that kind of intimacy with my parents, or anybody in my family, except for Kyle." Her eyes darted to his and then flitted back to the stars. "For the most part, I was raised by nannies. My mother has always been distant, cold. More so toward me than my brothers. I'm not sure why, unless she detected early on I was going to be a huge disappointment." Tucker heard the pain she tried to mask with an empty laugh.

"And my father worked all the time, traveled often. When he was around, it wasn't all that different from when he wasn't, just another space filled at a long table. But," she paused, "there were times when I'd notice him watching me. He'd have this look, like he was holding back a smile, or a hug, or something ..." Her lids slammed shut. "I'm sure I made it up. I just wanted to see those things. They were never really there. My family isn't like that." She rubbed at her eyes and turned her head away from Tucker. "And Kyle and I only are in private. It's just the way it is."

Tucker gently squeezed her tightly balled hands. "People show their feelings in all kinds of ways, Kat. Your family loves you. How could they not? And I was there when your dad told you and everybody in that room how proud he is of you. How proud he's always been of you."

The pillow rustled beneath her head. "Yeah, I know I should be grateful I ever heard those words at all. But it still pisses me off that it took so long." Then her chin lifted in defiance, the vulnerability gone, a cool bitterness left in its wake. "It pisses me off that I wanted to hear it at all, that I liked it."

The sheet whipped back in a flurry of white, billowed, and then sank back down onto the bed, now cold without her in it. He pushed up and watched as she stood with command at a window, her arms locked around herself, jaw set tight. He sat stunned, unsure what had happened, what had caused her reaction.

He climbed off the bed and approached her with caution, keeping his distance. Her eyes were fixed on some faraway point.

"I've never needed approval." Her tone was even, strong. "In fact, I seem to thrive on disapproval." Her focus pulled closer, her head cocked as she regarded her reflection. "I guess you could say I turned a negative into a positive."

He took a couple steps toward her. "That's what a real fighter does, Kat. We don't stop just because someone wants or, tells us to," he moved close enough to see the sheen of unshed tears, "or tries to force us to." He knew not to touch her right now, even though that's all he could think about doing.

She shook her head faintly. "But it hasn't made you cynical like it has me. You make it look so easy, Tucker."

A sly grin turned up one corner of his mouth, the winds shifting in his favor. "The great ones always do, sweetheart."

A smile flashed on her face before she glanced away. But he hadn't missed the tear racing down her cheek. He didn't point it out, though, knew she thought it made her weak. But he knew better. This woman had never been weak a day in her life, of that he was certain.

"Remember when I told you we're the same in all the ways that matter." She nodded. "I read you like an open book the first day, Kathryn James. It was like lookin' in a mirror." He pulled her to him, skimmed his hand along her face, threaded his fingers through her hair. "I knew I needed you before I even knew why." He pressed his forehead to hers, brushed his thumb across her lips. "It's okay to need people, Kat. It doesn't make you weak. It makes you stronger. It makes us stronger-together."

She considered his words in silence. "I've only ever relied on myself. And this ... You ... You make me question things-make me rethink things. You've totally screwed up my plan, Williams." The trace of a smile emerged, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, nearly squeezed the breath from him. "Damn you, Tucker Williams. Damn you for making me need you." She nuzzled against his neck. "Now I have a weakness too."

He tunneled one hand through her thick hair, his arm encircling her waist, no space between them. And yet, it still wasn't close enough. She pulled back, tracked every plane, every angle, every line on his face as if seeing him for the first time. His chest swelled with awareness, with her acceptance of him, of them, exactly as they were. Then she dragged him down for a fevered, urgent kiss, the likes of which he'd only ever experienced with the woman in his arms.

The New York sky opened up and heavy rain slapped against the rooftop and windows. Wiper blades screeched and clawed in complaint under the wave of water. Kat's tormented eyes darted back and forth from her back seat window to the front windshield. Nothing but headlights and black rain. Her stomach rolled, her teeth clenched, and the dull ache lodged behind her eyes throbbed harder.

"We'll make it in time, Kat." Tucker squeezed her hand in reassurance. She nodded without looking at him.

The world had upended this morning when she'd checked her phone messages. Too many missed calls from Kyle to even count. Henry James had suffered a massive heart attack. Kyle had taken care of the travel arrangements and sent the corporate jet to get her back home as quickly as possible and had a driver waiting to bring her directly to Mount Sinai. Even with the unrelenting noise in her head since the call, certain words resounded louder than the rest: "Father is asking for you. He won't let up. He keeps saying he needs to see you. He needs to see Katie." That word, that name, had sounded so foreign uttered by her brother, given she'd only ever heard her father say it.

From what Kyle knew at the time of their last phone call, their father wasn't doing well. Weak. Medicated. Hooked up to monitors and IVs. Kyle promised to call if there was any change either way. So far, heavy silence. Kat checked her phone again to make sure it was still getting a signal.

Finally stopped in front of the entrance, Tucker grabbed her hand and pulled her from the car. Too impatient for the revolving door, she yanked open a side door and quickly made her way to the bank of elevators and up to the ICU.

A nurse at the check-in desk guided them back to the room where her family waited. "I'll let the staff working with your father know you're here. Someone will come get you and take you back to see him when they feel he's up to it."

She walked into a room full of people she should feel closer to than any others in the world, people she should find solace with, especially at a time like this. But they were, for all intents and purposes, strangers. Except Kyle. At least she had him. He stood at a window peering down at the street while others skimmed magazines, watched the wall-mounted television and listened to the chatter on Bloomberg TV, or discussed a stack of fabric swatches for the latest redo at Cecily and Charlie's Hampton home.

When Kyle's eyes met hers, his face shaded in obvious relief. He made a beeline for her and hugged her as if his life depended on it. She noticed the stares and discomfort at their unusual public display of affection. She pulled him even closer while she eyed Parker in the corner. The WSJ lay open on his lap, his hard focus honed in on her.

"I do not want that man here, Kathryn." Her mother's indignant voice ended the stare down. Kyle released her.

"Too bad, Mother. I do. And you're going to have to deal with it." Her mother's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Only family should be here." Charlie stood to take his mother's side.

She stepped back and grasped Tucker's hand. "What makes you think he won't be?" Tucker squeezed her hand. "He's here for me. And he stays."

"This isn't the time or place-"

"I couldn't agree more, Mother. So drop it. Now." Sarah James sputtered and fumed at Kat's ill-mannered interruption and insolent tone. "I'm here to see Father. I understand he's been asking for me." She scanned the group; some avoided eye contact while others shot daggers in her direction. The precipitous temperature drop in the room was unmistakable.

The door behind Kat swung open. "I need to take Katie James with me. Her father's asking for her again."

Kat zeroed in on Parker. One corner of her mouth turned up slightly, for his eyes only. She caught the glint of hostility that seemed to burn especially hot for her. She would get to the bottom of his issue with her, but priorities had shifted for the moment. Then she glanced to Tucker. The man appeared as unflappable as ever. He nodded for her to go, reaffirmed he could hold his own in this backbiting group.

The nurse escorted her through a maze of automatic doors and wide hallways filled with beeping equipment, the buzz of hospital staff, and the ever-present smell of decay perfumed with sanitizers.

"Your father is very weak right now. We need him to stay calm and rest, but he's been insistent that he see you. We're hoping your being here will be just what he needs." She patted Kat's arm, pulled a chart from the acrylic wall holder, and scurried away.

Kat stepped quietly into the room only to stop dead in her tracks. Her lungs deflated, and she couldn't seem to pull air back into them. This man wasn't her father, looked nothing like him. His normally tanned skin was now a ghostly gray. His thick white hair, always slicked back into masterful submission, now mussed and unruly with a mind of its own. The aura of aristocracy, the rigid posture, the stance announcing his authority over all things big and small, was gone. Vanished. Sucked out of him by an array of tubes and beeping monitors.

She pushed forward, stood over him, scanned the body lying in the bed, and tried to reconcile the image before her.

"Katie. Thank God," he muttered, his words weak, almost desperate.

Her face lifted to his sunken, shadowed eyes. She tried to smile. "Hello, Father." She kept her tone level, not certain how to react to the swirl of emotion swelling inside.

"Sit. We need to talk." The few words spoken were marked by the effort to speak them.

"The doctors want you to rest. I'll stay, but you need to save your energy. We can talk when you get out of ICU."

His eyes closed and he shook his head. "I won't."

Kat stiffened at the finality of his statement. "Of course you will." He ignored her and pointed his eyes at the container on the rollaway table. She picked up the plastic pitcher and brought the straw to his parched lips. He kept his eyes on her while he all but emptied the container.

"That's better." He licked his lips and pressed his head back into the pillow. "Much better. Pull up a chair, Katie. I need you close."

Kat stood frozen in place. His voice sounded stronger now, with an urgency behind his tired eyes. She rolled the table out of the way and placed a seat beside the bed.

"No. Closer." She complied until he seemed satisfied. He gave her a long look. "I've been waiting for you." The inflection of his words unnerved her.

He stared, fascination rife on his worn face as his eyes traveled over her hair, and journeyed, slowly, across her features. And then she saw it.

A smile.

He didn't even try to hide the curve of his mouth, growing broader and turning wistful. All those years, she'd read him right. He had held back those smiles. She hadn't imagined them after all.

She startled from the unexpected brush of his hand to her cheek.

"You're so much like her." His eyes glistened with a wet sheen. "And you look like her too. You always have."

She frowned. "I've never thought I looked or acted anything like Mother."

He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it.

"You're strong, Katie. And you're going to need to be even stronger. You're going to need to do exactly what I tell you to do." He shook his head, his stern expression demanding she save her words for later. "I've made mistakes in my life, but you were never one of them." He paused, a faraway look in his eyes. "I should've stood up to my father. I should've made different choices." He expelled a labored breath, then refueled his lungs. "I should've been stronger, like you."

"I really think you need to-"

He raised his hand to silence her.

"Your life is about to change. You need to prepare for that. You need to be ready." His eyes closed as he drew in slow, deep breaths.

Kat sat speechless. She scanned the monitors filled with colorful staggered lines and flashing numbers. She understood nothing she saw, nothing she'd heard since sitting at her father's bedside. When his weary eyes reopened, her heart ached from the regret dulling their shine. And in that instant of recognition, they connected in the understanding, the remorse, of what could have been, of what they'd each lost.

Of the loss yet to come.

His sudden grip on her hand pulled her back to the present. Her eyes dropped down to the unfamiliar sight, the foreign feel of their joined hands.

"You need to go to my study, Katie." Her vision locked back onto his. "I have a book with a key in it. You need to get it." Her expression of confusion was mixed with worry. "I shouldn't have avoided this for so long. I know that. I always knew it. I just ..." The unfinished words faded away and he released her hand to rest the back of his fingers against her cheek. "I'm so sorry."

She shook her head at his cryptic statements. "Why do you have a key in a book? And what are you apologizing for?" Bewilderment lined her face.