Some Kind of Hero

Unable to answer either of these questions, Riane found herself reaching above her dressing table and plucking a toy from the shelf. Her action may have seemed random, but the doll she instinctively sought out was the one she’d called Eden for as long as she could remember. The one she’d always found gave her a measure of peace and comfort when nothing else could.

She couldn’t recall when she’d started her collection, and she had dolls from various countries around the world, but Eden had always been her favorite. She smiled wryly in the darkness, embarrassed to admit—even to herself—that she still found solace in the tattered old doll.

She turned back toward the bed as a soft knock sounded at the door, immediately contrite that her nocturnal wandering had awakened the housekeeper. “Come in, Sophie.”

The door pushed open, light spilling into Riane’s bedroom from the hallway. The housekeeper followed, an elegant gold-rimmed cup in her hand.

“You’re restless tonight,” Sophie commented, offering the drink.

Riane set Eden down on her pillow and cradled the delicate china between her palms. She raised the cup and inhaled the sweet scent of chocolate. Sophie had played a key role in Riane’s upbringing. She understood Riane’s moods and needs, and she knew there was nothing that worked better than chocolate when she was feeling unsettled.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Riane said. “Please, go back to bed.”

“You didn’t wake me,” Sophie told her, picking up the doll Riane had set aside. She smoothed back the tangled hair, straightened the faded skirt of her dress. Riane hid a smile behind the cup as she sipped. It was Sophie’s nature to want to fix and soothe, even when it wasn’t always possible.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sophie asked.

Riane wasn’t sure she could talk about feelings she didn’t understand. She was an intelligent, educated woman, yet the intensity of her reaction to Joel Logan continued to baffle her. “I don’t know.”

“It’s Mr. Logan,” Sophie guessed.

“It isn’t always about a man,” Riane chided, trying to deflect Sophie’s focus.

“It is when you’re pacing in your bedroom at 3:00 a.m.”

Riane frowned. Being up in the middle of the night wasn’t usual for her. “I’ve never been up pacing at this hour.”

Sophie’s smile was smug. “Exactly.”

“Sophie, you know that I’m going to marry Stuart.”

“I know that you think you’re going to marry Stuart.”

Riane took another sip of hot chocolate. “I thought you liked Stuart.”

“I like him well enough for a politician.”

“Sophie.” Such a statement was almost sacrilege in the Quinlan household, but Riane grinned.

“He’s not right for you,” Sophie insisted.

“He’d make a good husband,” Riane said loyally, wondering why she sounded unconvincing even to her own ears.

“You need someone who can put a sparkle in your eye, a flush in your cheek.”

“This is reality,” Riane said dryly. “Not a fairy tale.”

“The flush in your cheeks was real enough when Mr. Logan was here.”

And just the memory of the almost-kiss Sophie had interrupted caused Riane’s cheeks to flush with color again. She hid behind the heirloom cup, sipped the hot drink.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you and the way you look at him,” Sophie told her. “There’s chemistry there.”

“I never was any good at science,” Riane said lightly.

“You can joke about it, but you can’t deny it.”

Riane sighed. “Okay—I’m attracted to him.”

“And that scares you,” Sophie guessed.

“I haven’t felt this way since I met Cameron Davis in my first year of law school.” It was the only time she’d allowed her hormones to overrule her head, and the results had very nearly been disastrous. She refused to make the same mistake again.

“You won’t ever be happy if you don’t follow your heart.”

“I’m happy with Stuart,” Riane told her, but even to her own ears she didn’t sound very convincing.

Sophie snorted. “Then why haven’t you told Mr. Logan to stop coming around?”

“I did.”

“And then you invited him for dinner.”

“He invited himself,” Riane felt compelled to point out.

“He wouldn’t have been here if you didn’t want him to be.”

“He’s very persistent.”

Sophie chuckled.

“All right,” Riane admitted. “And maybe I enjoy his company.”

“Maybe?”

Riane shrugged, unwilling to make any further admission. Unable to express feelings she didn’t understand. The initial attraction had been purely physical. She’d spotted Joel Logan from across the room at the charity ball and had immediately been intrigued. But it was more than that. There was something about him that tugged at her—something even stronger than the self-protective instinct that warned her away.

She finished the creamy chocolate drink in one long swallow, then feigned a yawn. “I can probably sleep now.”

“All right, then,” Sophie relented, taking the cup from Riane and exchanging it for the doll she still held in her arms.

“Thank you, Sophie.” Riane’s comment referred to both the hot chocolate and the understanding.

Sophie nodded and kissed her cheek. “Sweet dreams.”

But when Riane finally fell asleep with her doll in her arms, she dreamed of a little girl crying.

Joel was waiting in front of the Courtland Hotel at precisely ten o’clock Friday morning when Riane pulled up in her snazzy little BMW coupe. It was a gorgeous car, and as he slid into the passenger seat of the vehicle, he noticed the driver was gorgeous, too.