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champagne flute and put it under the bench with hers. “You mean she’s better now?”
    “The asthma’s in remission. And after several surgeries that didn’t do much good, two years ago she finally had the one that actually worked.”
    “So she’s well? She can lead a normal life.”
    “She has to be careful.”
    Alice was studying him again, and much too closely. “You’re overprotective.”
    “I’m not.” He sounded defensive and he knew it.
    “But Lucy thinks so....”
    He grumbled, “You’re too damn smart.” He could almost regret not choosing a stupid princess. But then all he had to do was look at her, smell her perfume, hear her laugh, watch her with her horses—and he knew that no silly, malleable princess would do for him. Alice was the one. No doubt about it.
    “I certainly am smart,” she said. “So you’d better be honest with me from now on. Tell me lies and I’ll find you out.”
    “I have been honest.” Mostly.
    She shook her head. “Do I have to remind you of your alter ego, the stable hand—again?”
    “Please. No.” He held up both hands palms out in surrender.
    “Oh, my.” She pretended to fan herself. “You’re begging. I think I like that.”
    He set her straight. “It was a simple request.”
    “No, no, no.” She laughed. She had a great laugh, full-out and all in. “You were definitely begging.” Smiling smugly, showing off the dimples that made her almost as cute as she was beautiful, she asked, “You said Lucy is twenty-three, right?”
    He kept catching himself watching her mouth. It was plump and pretty and very tempting. But he wasn’t going to kiss her, not tonight. He’d just barely salvaged the situation with her and he couldn’t afford to push his luck by moving too fast. “Why are we talking about Lucy, anyway?”
    “Because she’s important to you.” She said it simply. Openly.
    And all at once he wanted to be...better somehow. It was bewildering. She stirred him, more than he’d ever intended to be stirred. He started talking, started saying real things. “When our mom died, we had nothing. Lucy was nine and sick all the time. I was twenty-one, just starting out, working days for that guy with the horse ranch I told you about, taking business classes at night. Our mom died and Child Protective Services showed up the next day to take Lucy away.”
    “I am sorry....” She said it softly, the three simple words laden with sadness. For him.
    He wanted some big things from her. Sympathy wasn’t one of them. “Don’t be. It was a good thing.”
    “A good thing that you lost your sister?”
    “I didn’t lose her. She went to an excellent foster mom, a great lady named Hannah Russo who made me welcome whenever I came to visit.”
    “Well, that’s good.”
    “It was, yeah. And that they wouldn’t let me take care of my sister was a definite wake-up call. I knew I had to get my ass in gear or I would never get custody of her. She was so damn frail. She could have died. I was afraid she would die. It was seriously motivating. I was determined, above all, to get her back with me where I could take care of her.”
    Her eyes were so soft. He could see the moon in them. “How long did it take you?”
    “I got custody of her three years after our mom died, when Lucy was twelve. I’ve taken care of her since then. She’s my family. Sometimes she doesn’t see it, but I only want what’s best for her.”
    “I know you do.” She leaned in close again. He smelled lilies and sea foam. “I like you, Noah.” She said his name on a breath. And then she leaned closer still. “You’re macho and tough. Kind of. But not. You confuse me. I shouldn’t like that. But I do. I like you far too much, I think.”
    He whispered, “Good.” His senses spun. She affected him so strongly. Too strongly, really. More strongly than any woman had in a long, long time—maybe ever. Above all, he had to remember not to push too fast. Not to kiss her. Yet.
    Her