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very well have killed to keep herself in fast cars and high fashion.
    She was not the seventeen-year-old who’d promised she’d never leave him when she gave him her virginity. She was not the twenty-year-old who’d sobbed when he’d announced his plans to join the Special Forces after he graduated from West Point. She wasn’t even the twenty-two-year-old who’d told him to fuck off one final time before walking out on him without another word.
    As she drew closer he focused on those differences. She was thinner, for one, he noticed as she got closer. And older, her mouth bracketed by fine lines that came from stress and age. Not to mention the wardrobe. He bet her outfit topped out at over a grand, even more if you counted the purse. A far cry from the wardrobe of a girl from a working class neighborhood who shopped at discount stores and went to private school on scholarship.
    She was nothing like the girl he’d known, and he was nothing like the dumb kid who’d entertained romantic illusions like true love and happily ever after.
    He took off his glasses, feeling a smile curl his lips for the first time in several days as she stumbled a little.
    She was off center. Just the way he liked it. And he was in perfect control. Because Caroline Medford meant nothing to him.
     
    Danny’s gray stare hit Caroline like a blast chiller, freezing the marrow in her bones as she tried to cover up her little stumble. His face was carefully neutral, and it was only because she knew him well that she could read the icy disdain in his eyes.
    No, scratch that. She didn’t know him, not anymore. She hadn’t known him for over a decade. He was a completely different person now, as was she. She needed to approach this as a purely business decision. Two adults helping each other get the information they needed, without letting their past relationship interfere.
    But as she closed the distance between them that cool gray gaze slid down, then up over her black wool-clad form. Heat unfurled low in her belly as her libido chose that inconvenient moment to wake after a long hibernation. God he looked good. Her Jackie O glasses hid her eyes, allowing her to hungrily drink in every inch of him, all the ways he was the same, all the ways he’d changed.
    Danny had always been tall and muscular, even when she’d first met him in high school, but his six-foot-four frame had filled out in the ten years since she’d seen him. He’d packed on a good twenty, twenty-five pounds, and though she couldn’t say for sure with the suit coat hiding his chest, she bet it was all pure, hard muscle. His face was still all planes and angles, his tanned jaw already hinting at a five o’clock shadow. His thick, nearly black hair was cropped short, but not as short as the military buzz cut he’d worn the last time she’d seen him. His blade of a nose was no longer perfectly straight. It now sported a bump on the bridge and pointed ever so slightly to the left, evidence that he’d broken it at least once. It gave an almost menacing cast to a face that didn’t betray an inch of softness.
    Except for his eyelashes, which were still so ridiculously long they brushed his eyebrows as he regarded her with his level stare. And his full, sensual lips, which pulled down at the corners as she stopped about a foot in front of him.
    “Hi Danny,” she said after he stared at her for what felt like a century without saying anything. Then, because she had no idea what else to say to him, “I wish this had turned out differently for you.”
    He flinched a little, and for a split second, almost so fast she missed it, there was flash of pain in his eyes, a peek into the abyss he tried so hard to hide. Tears stung her eyes and she struggled with the crazy urge to throw her arms around him, offer up her body and soul just to make him feel better.
    And hadn’t she learned the hard way that was a losing proposition any way you sliced it?
    “What are you doing here,