She hesitated before finally speaking. "Fine, I'll come back tonight. But on one condition—Doreen and her daughter can't be home. I can't stand seeing them."
Valerie never gave something for nothing. If those two weren't miserable, she wouldn't feel better herself.
"Deal. I'll make sure they're gone. Seven o'clock, then. I'll be waiting."
Only after hanging up did Valerie notice her damp palms. That hardened shell of hers protected wounds no one else could see.
Maybe she'd never been strong. Maybe courage had always been beyond her.
"Your father called?" Ryan appeared at the garden gate unexpectedly—more striking than the surrounding blossoms. That was Valerie's only coherent thought.
What man could be both angelic and icy? How did such contradictions create such devastating beauty?
