“When can I go home?”

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with us for a while. Weeks yet. But I promise, we’ll do our best to keep you entertained,” Dr. Harding teased gently.

“I’ll have use of my hand? My leg again?”

The two doctors in the hallway exchanged glances. “We believe so, Helena.” And then they walked out, down the hall in the other direction, leaving Justin alone with Lady Helena.

“Doctor Webb, what am I going to look like? Please tell me the truth. No one else seems willing to answer a direct question. I can’t deal with the truth if I don’t know what it is. How bad are the scars going to be?”

Right then, Winona almost spun around and took off. She completely changed her mind about talking to Justin. It would wait. It was just selfishness, her wanting to see him, to be with him. And it was now obvious that he’d had a harrowing night and was having an even tougher day-Lady Helena’s careful, softly voiced questions could darn well break any woman’s heart-and Winona just couldn’t imagine bugging him right now.

Still, she lingered, just for a few more moments. Not to bug him. Not even to wait for him. But even though she couldn’t make out his specific words to Helena, she could hear him talking, the cadence of his voice like the refrain of an old love song, gentle, familiar, soothing. And then he was striding out, his head bent as he stuck a pen in his white hospital coat, the smile for his patient still plastered on his face…but that smile disappeared the instant he moved out of Helena’s sight.

He clearly believed that he was alone in the hall for that second. Winona could see those proud shoulders of his sag, the starch go out of his posture. His good-looking face was darn near chalk-white from exhaustion.

There was no way she was walking away from him.

“Justin?”

Even before his head whipped around at the sound of her voice, he had his normal expression back in place. His spine automatically straightened; his mouth tipped in that Sam Elliot, lazy, almost-smile; the virile vitality clipped back in his step. And those gorgeous eyes looking her over were-naturally-opaque as far as revealing any of his own feelings.

“Sheesh, Win. You prowling the bad neighborhoods again, looking for trouble?”

That was the whole problem with his teasing. She either wanted to smack him-or kiss him. The bottom line, as she was coming to realize, was that no matter what, she had always been tempted to touch him. How could she have failed to notice that for so long? “You had to know I’d track you down, after what you did,” she said severely.

“What, what? I didn’t do anything.”

“Don’t try that innocent routine on me, Doc. You’re in trouble-and most people know better than to get in trouble with a cop. It’s time to face the music. Exactly what do you still have to do this afternoon?”

“Well, I’m done with patients for the day, but I think I was supposed to meet with some insurance woman this afternoon. And I’ve got a good two hours of paperwork.” He shot her a wayward grin. “I can cancel that stuff. I’d rather get in trouble with you any old time. But I have to admit, Win, I can’t promise to be any kind of great company. I’m a little on the tired side.”

A little? That wayward grin couldn’t fool her in a month of Sundays. The more she studied him, the more she realized that he’d be lucky to drive himself home without falling asleep at the wheel. “Well, I promise, I only want a few minutes of your time-”

He frowned abruptly, as if suddenly remembering some terribly serious thing. “Actually, I need to talk to you. Serious talk. In fact, I wanted to call you much earlier, but stuff kept happening at the hospital and I just couldn’t get free to make the call. I’m glad we ran into each other-”

Winona was afraid it was weddings he wanted to talk about. That wasn’t going to happen. Now that she realized how completely wasted he was, his fate was sealed as far as how this encounter was going to go. “Okay, I’ll tell you what. Let’s swing by your house. Grab a sandwich. We can talk while you’re eating and then I’ll hightail it home.”

His eyebrows raised. “That plan works great for me, but it doesn’t seem very convenient for you. Since when do you want to go to my place?”

Since never. She’d been there; she knew where he lived, but she’d never felt comfortable alone with him in his house. It wasn’t a matter of not trusting Justin-in any way-but of always feeling edgy with the feelings he stirred in her. But right now none of that mattered. The only issue was getting Justin fed, comfortable, and asleep, which she figured would be a lot easier to manipulate on his own turf.

She followed his Porsche, which gave her a chance to use her cell phone to call Myrt. “How late can you stay?”

“I told you, I told you. All night, if you need me to. Any time.”

“Well…how’s Angel?”

“Just like her namesake.”

“Being good?”

“Happy as a clam.”

Winona’s worry nerves detangled. “Well, the thing is, I just caught up with Justin and he’s really whipped. What I’d like to do is take him home and make sure he gets some rest, but I know he won’t go along if I tell him that plan. I can’t believe I’m going to be at his place for very long, but I just can’t give you an exact time when I’ll be home.”

“So this is easy. I know where you are, I’ll call you if I need you. Otherwise, take the evening off, mom. Go play. If you’re not back by the time I get tired, I’ll just bunk down in the spare bedroom and leave the door cracked so I can hear the baby. Now, do you have a key?”

Winona blinked at the phone. Even her foster mothers had never asked if she’d had a key. Myrt was like having an honorary mother-whether she wanted one or not.

But her humor suffered a fadeout when she pulled up behind Justin in his drive. Her house was only a couple miles from here, but it might as well be another universe. His place was white stucco with a Spanish red-tile roof, two stories tall with pillars framing the front door. A covered patio stepped down in layers to water gardens. Her yard had a clothesline. His had a marble fountain and a jetted pool.

When he unlocked the door, he ushered her in first. Possibly it was the sudden silence that made her so oddly nervous. She scuffed off her jacket, pushed off her shoes, tried to brazen past her nerves with some normal conversation. “It’s been a while since I’ve been here. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been upstairs-how many rooms up there?”

“Four bedrooms and three baths, I think-but I can’t swear to that,” he said wryly. “I haven’t been up there myself since I can remember.”

She shot him a bemused smile. “And that’s another question I never got around to asking you before-why on earth did you buy such a big house?” The downstairs alone was a maze of room choices. Past the dining and living areas were a den and office, a sunroom and game room, and somewhere on the first floor was the master bedroom as well.

“Beats me. At the time, it seemed to make sense. I wanted a house in town, close to the hospital and my office. But I didn’t want a place in the same neighborhood as my parents-I love ’em, but that’d be too close. And as much as I’m crazy about my grandparents’ ranch, I couldn’t see living in the country. It’s just too far from my work.”

“But you didn’t need anything this monster size!”

“Well, I know. But Myrt and the gardener both came with this place. And the closed staircase made it easy to shut off the upstairs, so I have all that extra space for company, but it doesn’t get dirty or messed up if I just stay out of it. I really do like the room, though. And that brothers and sisters and family can pile in here over the holidays.”

She took a breath, but Hell’s bells…there was no way to get a question answered if you didn’t ask it. “Were you thinking about a house big enough for a family when you bought it?”

His head shot up. For a moment, she forgot how tired he was. The look of awareness kindling in his eyes seemed as electric and wide-awake as a charge of lightning. “If you’re asking if I can imagine you and our kids living here-yes, I can. And yes, I have been. Although imagining you and I practicing how to make those kids is mostly what’s been on my mind.”

She was a cop. Too old and too life-smart to blush, but blast the man if she didn’t feel warmth surging up her cheeks. No matter how close they’d become-no matter that there was a marriage proposal between them. She still couldn’t seem to believe that he wanted her. Or that she hadn’t realized how much fire had been simmering between them for so many years without her knowing. “Justin, I wasn’t asking about us-”

He grinned, but he also quit teasing. “Yeah, I know, you were asking me why I bought the house. But the truth is…I don’t know, Win. At the time, I just liked the place. It wasn’t that practical a decision. I fell for the two fireplaces and the unbeatable pool table in the game room. And the two trees in here.”

There were. The two fringey trees in his great room stretched at least ten feet tall. He flipped on switches as they walked through. Recessed lighting immediately softened the darkness, illuminating the picture windows and vaulted ceiling, the hardwood floor, the giant furniture-couches, chairs, cushions-all upholstered in a thick, white cotton duck. Most of the color in the room came from true-life greens-not just the trees, but also bushy plants in tubs.

Her gaze swept from the plants and white furniture to the occasional splashes of contemporary art on the walls. “Did you choose all this yourself?”

“Are you kidding? Mostly the house came this way. All I had to do was water the plants and pick out some stuff for the walls.”

“Men,” she murmured dryly.

“Hey.” Still headed for the kitchen, he pushed on more switches. A gas fire suddenly sizzled in the great-room hearth, adding warmth and light. They passed a hall table heaped with mail. A door opening onto his office. The downstairs bathroom looked more like a sitting room for a sultan than a practical john. She only caught a fast glimpse of the lapis lazuli tile, the square tub with whirlpool, the blanket-size towels in cobalt.