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No, the cottage wasn’t fancy. The furnishings were quirky and personal, assembled over the years as she had need and saw something that appealed to her. In fact, she’d had the same sofa for ages. She had a flash of memory, Daniel pressing her back on it, yanking her clothes off with hungry urgency. Please don’t let him remember .
    But he wasn’t looking at the sofa. He was turning slowly, taking in the scuffed, scratched hardwood floor that desperately needed refinishing, the old-fashioned sash windows that required all of her muscle to open them even a foot to let in air, the cracked vinyl floor through the arched entry into the kitchen.
    Well, so what? she thought defiantly. Not everyone was rich. She and Malcolm had wonderful neighbors here in Old Town Half Moon Bay. They could get to the beach within minutes. He’d taken pony rides at a ranch just outside town. Not half a mile away were fields of pumpkins and cut flowers. Malcolm had a swing set in the tiny backyard. He had everything he needed.
    “So this is where you’ve been hiding out.”
    She stiffened. “This is where I live . If I’d wanted to hide out, I would have left the state.”
    Tension radiated from him, and, as if he couldn’t help himself, he took a few steps away, then swung back to face her.
    “Why didn’t you get an abortion?”
    Her chin snapped up at that. “Why would I? I wantedto have children. I’m perfectly capable of supporting us. I was thrilled.”
    “But not so thrilled you told me. When did you find out, Rebecca?”
    Find out? Not until the end of their relationship. Suspect? Sooner, but she already knew Daniel Kane wasn’t cut out to be a family man. She should have run then, but she hadn’t. For another month she had let herself hope.
    “I was three months along the last time I saw you.”
    “Three months.” He shook his head, his gray eyes dark with bitterness. “We were still spending a couple of nights a week at each other’s places. Sleeping together. Talking over dinner.” He paused. “Making love.”
    “Was it making love, Daniel? Or just having sex?”
    He shrugged contemptuously. “Either way, you lied to me every day. Did you despise me so much?”
    “No.” She took a quick step toward him, her heart wrung by the flicker of pain she would swear she had seen. “Oh, no. I thought…I suppose I thought I was protecting you from having to make decisions you wouldn’t have liked.”
    He snorted. “How noble of you. You were protecting me from the knowledge that I was having a son.”
    “I didn’t know…” Rebecca stopped.
    He stared at her.
    “I mean, whether I was having a girl or a boy.”
    He made an impatient motion. “Girl or boy, most kids have a father.”
    “What would you have done if I’d told you I was pregnant?” She flung the question at him, as if it would sting, and yet she hoped he’d answer honestly. She’d wondered so often.
    A strange expression crossed his face. Rebecca had no idea how to read it, and had little chance anyway, he hid his emotions so quickly.
    “Does it matter now?”
    “Yes.” In the face of his looming size, she plopped down on the sofa. “Yes, it does. You’re angry at me for misinterpreting how you would have reacted back then, but you can’t tell me how you would have reacted.”
    “All right. I would have been shocked. I assumed you were using birth control.”
    “I was using birth control!” she snapped.
    As if she hadn’t spoken, he said, “Once I thought it over, I would have taken responsibility. Asked you to marry me.”
    If he had, even if she knew he didn’t love her, that he was only asking because it was the right thing to do, she would have said yes. Then think how miserable they both would have been.
    She crossed her arms as if that would hold in the pain.
    One of the main reasons she hadn’t told him, she realized now, was her fear that he would ask her to marry him for all the wrong reasons and that she would be weak enough