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amazed by how accurately she’d analyzed Mallory’s emotional state. “Can you help him?”
    “Maybe. Maybe not. It’s up to him,” she said thoughtfully. “I can make a more accurate assessment once I meet him.”
    “Great.” Cain eagerly sprang to his feet. “Let’s take care of that right now.”
    A brief smile brightened her plain features. “Have you told him I’m coming?”
    Cain hesitated. “No.”
    “Good.”
    “It’s probably better he doesn’t know you’re a therapist,” Cain suggested, preferring to delay another of Mallory tantrums. The minute his cohort learned that he’d hired another therapist, there was sure to be trouble.
    “We won’t be able to keep it from him long,” Francine said evenly. “He’ll figure it out soon enough.”
    She was right. One look at this titan of a woman and Mallory would know exactly why he’d brought her to meet him.
    From the glint in her deep blue eyes, Cain guessed this was a woman who thrived on challenge. All the better, because Mallory was going to demand every ounce of fortitude she possessed.
    He led her through the house he’d rented on Russian Hill. Taken with the panoramic view of the Bay, Cain had also liked the countrylike lanes and terraced houses. Perhaps he was thinking the atmosphere would help Mallory, but if that was the case, the high rent area had been an expensive mistake. Mallory had made a prison out of the back bedroom.
    Greg, Mallory’s attendant, was leaving the room as they approached. He looked from Cain to Francine and then back at Cain.
    “He’s having a bad day,” Greg announced. His expression suggested they’d be better off returning at a later date.
    “As long as he’s in the shape he’s in now,” Francine said without waiting for Cain to respond, “every day’s a bad day.”
    Greg smiled and nodded. “Good luck,” he said as he stepped away from the door.
    Cain knocked once and walked inside without waiting for a response. The room was dark, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light. Mallory was sitting in the corner farthest from the door, with a blanket over his legs. The once robust man had lost seventy pounds in the last year and a half. His eyes had shrunk back into his head, and his hair was long enough to brush his shoulders. At a glance, he looked like hell. Cain wanted to shout at him, tell him to snap out of this, but he wasn’t the one with a shattered hipbone and a knee that had been blown all to shit.
    Cain could walk out of this house. Mallory couldn’t stand up, let alone walk. It was easy to make judgments from this side of a wheelchair. Feeling helpless, Cain did what he could, but it seemed like damn little.
    “I’m not in the mood for company,” Mallory muttered.
    “I brought someone for you to meet,” Cain said. It would take more than a sour mood to get rid of him.
    “Another time, perhaps.” Mallory’s voice was strained, the frustration and anger leaking through the words.
    Francine moved away from Cain and reached for the light switch, flipping it on. The room was instantly bathed in a warm glow.
    Automatically Mallory’s hands went to shade his eyes,and he cursed under his breath. Cain watched as his friend’s angry glare connected with the therapist’s gaze.
    “Hello, Mr. Mallory,” Francine said brightly, “I’m Francine Holden.”
    Mallory glared disdainfully at Cain as if he’d stabbed him in the back. “Get rid of her.”
    “Now, Mallory—”
    “I said get rid of her.”
    “I could get offended, but I won’t,” Francine said, chuckling. Cain swore he heard a tinge of glee in her laugh and loved it. This was going to work out far better than he’d hoped.
    “We’re going to become friends, Mallory,” Francine said. “Real good friends. For the next two months, I’m going to stick to you like glue, and when I’m through with you,” she said, firmly planting her hand on her hip, “I guarantee you won’t be sitting in a dark