Why Are You Here

If no one recognized her, she would have to drag the memories back herself. And every time she strained after them, the headache that followed was almost more than she could bear.

She must have dozed off with her head against the rocking window. When Bella's eyes fluttered open, she startled. The elderly woman who had been sitting across from her was gone. In her place sat a young man, tattoos and piercings covering him from collar to knuckle.

He had been staring down at his phone. Feeling her gaze, he looked up. Maybe it was the face—something dissonant seemed to roll off him in waves. Caught in a small, involuntary panic, Bella glanced around. She hadn't missed her stop, had she?

"Where are we?"

"Just passed Oakville."

He dropped his eyes to the phone again as he said it. One stop left, then, before Union Station.

At Union she got off and spent a long while lost, unable to find the passage to the subway. She had thought she could simply follow the crowd, but she had trailed the wrong person and lost her bearings entirely.

Even without a trace of makeup her skin was clear, her features fine, and no plain clothes could hide a figure that was beautiful by nature. More than a few people checked her as they passed. Wound tight on the business of finding her way, Bella had no attention left for the looks that landed on her.

When she finally reached the subway connection, she snatched a look at her watch.

Less than ten minutes remained. Making it on time was already hopeless. Even after she boarded she kept checking the time, biting at her nails. At last she stepped off at Bay Street and cast her eyes about like a lost child.

The Four Seasons...

The meeting place was the top-floor penthouse of a residential condominium run by the Four Seasons Hotel.

Unlike the little town of Grand Bend, the streets here seethed with pedestrians, and the city's relentless blare of horns felt foreign. By the time she had trudged through snow that swallowed her feet and reached the door, she was already twenty-five minutes late.

The scarf had done what it could, but the wind had left her face numb. Gloves in hand, she stepped into the lobby, working her frozen fingers over cheeks stung red. The place was so lavish that the mere act of setting foot inside made her shrink.

"Excuse me. I have an appointment with Mr. Dane Hunter."

"One moment, please. I'll check."

A concierge in an immaculate suit received her with careful courtesy. She had wanted to leave Dane Hunter with a good first impression. Instead her trousers were soaked to the knees, and the hat and scarf she wore were a ruin of frozen snow.

She would have liked to duck into a restroom and put herself to rights, but she was already late and had no time to spare. She followed the concierge into the elevator and sighed at the woman staring back from the mirrored wall.

A soft chime, and the car stopped. The doors that had walled off her view slid open. She stepped out, lifted her face—and her lips parted.

Three crystal chandeliers hung in a soaring ceiling above monumental columns. Costly paintings and objets lined the walls as if she had walked into a museum. At the far end of a pale marble floor too vast to measure, a wall of glass opened onto a panorama of downtown.

Bella turned, half certain she had come to the wrong place. Only then did she notice that three elevators opened directly into the suite.

"...Does anyone actually live here?"

She murmured it under her breath and took two cautious steps out of the car. A banquet hall, maybe, or a convention room—had she wandered into the wrong one? While she hesitated, someone came out from deeper inside. The uniform suggested a member of the staff.

"Excuse me. I'm here to see Mr. Dane Hunter."

The woman looked her up and down and let out a small sigh. Water was dripping from Bella's clothes and shoes, staining marble that hadn't held a speck of dust.

"Wait here a moment."

She vanished and returned with a towel, which she held out.

"Shoes off first, please, and change into these slippers. I'll take the coat."

Once Bella had done as she was told, the woman led her into a sitting room. Heat poured from the fireplace, and her frozen body seemed to thaw all at once.

"Um... Mr. Hunter..."

"He said that when his guest arrived, she was to wait. Then he went out."

Bella lifted her wrist and checked the time. More than thirty minutes past the hour. If he had gone off to see to other business, she had no right to complain. She had turned up looking a wreck to what amounted to an interview, and late on top of it. The job, she was sure, had already sailed.

The leather sofa looked far too expensive to sit on while she was wet, so she stood awkwardly before the fire. Only when the woman brought two large towels, spread them over the cushions, and gestured for her to sit did Bella lower herself carefully onto the edge.

"Would you care for tea?"

"Thank you."

After the woman left, Bella looked around once more.

Incredible.

From floor to ceiling, there wasn't a corner that failed to be lavish.

Warmth met her frozen skin and set it prickling. She pressed both hands to her tired eyes and rubbed. Her clothes needed to dry before she went back out. Step into weather like this half-damp, and she would freeze solid—an armor of ice. The thought of the long way home in a cold this brutal already left her bleak.

Several minutes passed. Watching the flames waver in the hearth, she felt her head go hazy, as if she were slipping under a spell. She drew a long breath into her cupped hands and lifted her face—and that was when it happened.

From behind a column at the entrance to the room, a child was watching her. Their eyes met. Pitch-black hair, skin pale as porcelain. Lashes long enough to see even from a distance, and lips the color of cherries. The child was as pretty as a doll.

"Hi."

Bella smiled before she knew she was doing it. They had said there was a child to look after. So this was the one.

"I'm Bella. And you?"

The child, who had been studying her with curious eyes, edged closer, shy.

"You're awfully cute. What's your name?"

"Jude."

He blinked in a busy flutter and gave a little jerk of his shoulders. A tic disorder? Those usually showed up around five or seven. If that was what this was, the onset was remarkably early. Wait. Why did she know that? A strange familiarity brushed her, but she kept her face bright for him.

"Hi. It's nice to meet you."

"Mommy?"

What was that supposed to mean? She laughed inwardly.

Aiden, the Raymonds' grandson, had called her Mommy the first time he saw her too. Living apart from his own mother, he mistook any young woman about that age for her.

Neil's words came back all at once. Tsk. They had said this child had no mother either. Had the ache of that deprivation unsettled him enough to bring the tics on?

"Jude. I'm not Mommy."

"..."

"I'm not your mommy, but I'm going to look after you. Well—if your dad hires me."

Which didn't seem likely. Watching those eyes blink without pause, she offered a sheepish smile. He tipped his head, studying her, then reached for the hair that had spilled down her shoulder. Damp strands wound around his small hand.

"Mommy's wet."

At the word slipping out again between those small, plump lips, Bella only lifted the corners of her mouth.

"I got caught in the snow. It'll dry soon."

Just then the woman who had stepped out returned with a tray of tea and sweets.

"Oh my. Jude, you're up from your nap?"

"Yeah. Mommy's here."

At that the woman let out a soft little laugh. She, too, seemed to feel no particular need to argue with him.

Bella lifted the steaming cup and took a sip. Hazelnut lingered at the tip of her nose, but what wrapped her tongue was black tea. She didn't know why, but the taste wasn't unfamiliar.

"It's delicious. Thank you."

"Mr. Hunter is down in the lobby. He'll be up shortly. Come on, Jude—want to go to the kitchen with me and have a snack?"

"Don't wanna. I'm staying with Mommy."

"Jude. This lady isn't Mommy. She's a guest who came to see Daddy."

"Nuh-uh. She's Mommy."

"Jude, it's rude to say that to a guest."

Bella, watching the tug-of-war, stopped the woman with a smile.

"It's all right. The little boy I look after now did the same thing at first. Jude? Shall we read a book?"

Light broke across his face. "Yeah!" he cried, and shot off somewhere, bright with excitement. Even the sight of his back was so lovely it pulled a smile to her mouth. A moment later he came back lugging an enormous picture book.

Sleeping Beauty?

Bella laughed at the book a little girl might have chosen. He sat right down against her side without a shred of hesitation. The moment the cover opened, a pretty castle rose smoothly into view. Both of them lit up at the finely made pop-up.

"Wow... it's beautiful."

"This is our house. Mommy's the princess. When Daddy kisses her, Mommy wakes up."

"Is that so."

She swallowed a laugh and stroked the back of his small head.

Just then the sound of the elevator came from beyond the sitting room. Men's voices followed, and a burst of laughter. Bella set the book on the table and rose. Jude rose with her and stood pressed close at her side.

"Mr. Hunter, your guest is waiting."

The staff member's voice carried from the entrance.

Bella swallowed. She wasn't expecting much, but the nerves were beyond her. She straightened her stiff back and looked toward the way Dane Hunter would come.

"Uncle Liam!"

Beside her, the child sang it out, glad. The first man through was dressed in a gray suit so crisp it hadn't taken a single wrinkle. Behind the one called Liam came another, in a fine cashmere knit and suit trousers.

The moment the two of them entered, she felt the air change. They were both big men, and the presence rolling off them carried the scent of success.

"Daddy!"

Jude shouted it at the man in the knit.

Daddy. Then was that the man she had come to meet—Dane Hunter?

She studied him with curious eyes.

The child's deep black hair and his features were this man's, copied exactly. Not that she could find so much as a hair's breadth of the boy's pure, sweet feeling in the face before her.

He had to stand well over six-foot-three, and the proportions were perfect. A gaze sharp enough to seize the eye, the clean fall of a straight nose, lips that carried a sensual air. His features were so handsome there wasn't a flaw to catch.

Even refined clothes couldn't hide the breadth of those powerful shoulders or the magnificent lines of his body. He gave off the feel of something wild and thoroughly male.

Thump. Thump. To her embarrassment, her heart kicked as she looked at him.

"Hello."

At the sound of her voice, both men's expressions hardened at once.

Dane Hunter's eyes went wide with shock, as if he had seen a ghost. His gaze, fixed on her as though he had forgotten even how to blink, showed a raw redness rising in it.

"Daddy...?"

He didn't seem to hear the child at all. Slowly blinking eyes, lips parted—he looked as if his soul had slipped out of him.

"I'm sorry I'm late. My name is Bella."

The strangely grave air was awkward, so she offered the greeting.

When she introduced herself, his head tipped at a crooked angle. A mouth pressed shut, that cutting gaze—none of it felt ordinary.

Why that look? Had being late put him in a foul mood? Or was it that she was sitting on an expensive leather sofa looking like a drowned rat? Maybe the person he had been waiting for wasn't her at all.

"Um... I heard you were looking for a nanny..."

She clasped her hands, gone stiff with nerves, and pushed on. The air had veered so far from anything she expected that astonishment tipped over into a strange unease.

He let out a short, incredulous breath of a laugh.

What on earth was this? At the reaction she hadn't seen coming, Bella bit down on her lip.

With a jerk of his chin, Dane Hunter signaled the man beside him to give them the room. The other man cleared his throat and turned to the child.

"Jude, want to go downstairs with Uncle and get some ice cream?"

"Yeah! I wanna!"

Liam scooped up the boy who had flung both arms out and held him lightly. A meaningful glance swept over Bella and Dane, and then he turned to go. The child, in high spirits, laughed bright and clear and waved at her.

"Bye-bye!"

She couldn't quite answer him. She looked at the man with uneasy eyes. It felt as if, with the passing of the seconds, even the air had frozen solid.

Dane came toward her with the slow grace of an elegant predator closing on its prey. A scent too sensual to name slipped in at the tip of her nose.

She took a reflexive step back.

Her stomach lurched. Her legs shook. Something familiar and strange at once came at her as fear.

"Mr. Hunter...?"

Her voice had dried tight with nerves. In that instant a fierce light flickered in his eyes.

"You..."

He had been looking down at her with a face gone harsh, and at last he spoke.

It was like three years ago—when she had lost every memory she had and been cast out into the world.

A peaceful life can be destroyed without warning. At any moment.