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anytime he wanted.
    He wondered if he’d ever make the call.
    Four
    Too wide awake for sleep, Mattie settled back in the deep, cone-shaped chair in the living room of her loft apartment. Another chair just like it sat at the opposite end of a modern ivory sofa piped in black.
    The place was open and airy, with big industrial windows, exposed brick walls and polished concrete floors. There were concrete countertops in the kitchen and baths, while the bedrooms had ebony hardwood floors. Black-framed architectural sketches of European cathedrals decorated the walls.
    The simplicity of the apartment suited her. She didn’t spend much time at home. Mostly she was working or down at the center. But the two bedrooms and two bathrooms provided just enough room and the modern décor went with her streamlined lifestyle.
    She wondered what Gabriel Raines would think of the place, and thought that he would probably disapprove. He’d expect a more feminine décor, maybe some ruffles and frills and a bunch of sentimental clutter. She was nothing like that and never would be.
    She heard a familiar meow and turned to see her big orange-striped tomcat, Tigger, padding toward her.
    “Hi, baby. Mama’s home.” As she reached down to stroke his fur, Tigger pushed his head into her palm and began to purr. “All right, I hear you.” She rose from the chair. “Come on, let’s get you some food.” Tigger wound himself between her legs as she walked toward the kitchen to retrieve a pouch of food and refill his bowl of crunchies.
    She was a pushover for animals, especially cats, which Gabe would also probably disapprove of. If he had an animal, it would have to be a Rottweiler or a mastiff or something. She almost smiled.
    Gabe said he lived just a few blocks away. Now that she’d seen him tonight in a pair of cowboy boots and knew he came from Wyoming, she could imagine him living in a place that sported Frederick Remington sculptures and Western paintings on the walls.
    She tried not to think how good he had looked, the black jeans and T-shirt he’d worn, stretching over a powerful set of shoulders and muscular chest, and biceps bulging with muscle. In an article online, she recalled reading that he was a former marine. Clearly he stayed in condition.
    She thought of those narrow hips and long legs and a little curl of heat tugged low in her belly. She told herself she liked more sophisticated men, the GQ type, guys interested in art and literature, men who enjoyed going to plays and dining in fine restaurants. Gabriel Raines was a man’s man, the macho kind she made it a point to stay away from.
    Not that she’d had many dates in the past few years.
    She was too busy for a relationship. She needed to focus her attention on her job, and what little time was left went to her work at the center.
    And somehow with men, the past always seemed to intrude. The two years she’d spent with Mark Holloway had ended in disaster and the memory still haunted her. They were supposed to get married, or at least that’s what she’d thought. She had foolishly believed Mark loved her, but as soon as she found out she was pregnant, Mark disappeared from her life.
    Just as her mother had warned, she couldn’t count on a man, even one who said he loved her.
    Then things went from bad to worse and she miscarried the baby, a tiny part of herself she had already come to love. Her job was all she had to keep her going, the only thing that kept her from total despair.
    That and her volunteer work at the center. Aside from manning the hotline, her job was mostly to offer support, to talk to people from needy families who came to the center for help, to listen to their troubles and try to provide resources and help them find solutions. Other people had such terrible problems that even the loss of her unborn child seemed small in comparison.
    She was young, she told herself. She could have another baby. But she had never truly recovered from Mark’s betrayal