Pulled by equal but conflicting desires, he sank down into a leather chair, his gaze never leaving the painting. While half of him wanted to fling the object against the wall and destroy it, the other half burned with the desire to possess the woman portrayed in it.

The sound of toenails clicking on the hardwood floor broke the silence. A moment later his wolfhound, Gabriel, thrust his head onto his lap. “I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he murmured. He absently rubbed the dog’s head and neck. Gabriel whimpered in doggy ecstasy, turning his head this way and that, making sure every spot received attention.

Eventually, Gabriel flopped on the floor next to him, content and ready to sleep again. The sound of their breathing was the only sound except for the occasional rumble of traffic. The night ticked on towards the dawn.

Staring at the painting, he waited. Eventually, his hands relaxed and he sank back into the comfort of the large chair and tilted his head back. With his eyes closed, he shook his head in disgust. He could no more destroy the painting than harm a hair on her head, this beautiful woman who now haunted his dreams with her tousled brown hair, expressive blue eyes, and incredibly sexy body. He could feel his dick stirring to life again. Just thinking about her made him hard.

From the moment he’d first laid eyes on the painting in the window of a little coffee shop, he’d had to own it. The beauty of the artist’s work had caught his eye, but it was the subject that had captured his imagination. Now that he possessed the picture, he was filled with a yearning— no, a compulsion— to meet her. He felt connected to her somehow. There was a bond between them that he couldn’t explain, but he had to find out what it was.

He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. Maybe he’d just been working too damn hard lately, and that made him more susceptible to his dreams. He really didn’t know and didn’t care. Regardless, he didn’t think the dreams would stop until he discovered what it was about her that fascinated him so. That meant he had to meet her.

Realistically, he expected the dreams to disappear the moment he met her. After all, she was just an ordinary woman, albeit a beautiful one, probably living a completely mundane life. The sexy goddess from his dreams was the perfect creation of his overworked mind. In his experience, people rarely lived up to his expectations.

Better to deal with it head-on so he could put it behind him, especially if he wanted another uninterrupted night’s sleep. He was disturbed with how easily this unknown woman had slipped, uninvited, into his dreams. Being out of control was not a feeling he enjoyed.

With his usual take-charge style, he’d already set the wheels in motion and had begun the first step in the hunt. Find the artist and he’d find the woman in the painting.

The shadows were a light gray when he finally arose from the chair. Cold and stiff, he stretched for a moment to work the kinks out of his neck and shoulders. Gabriel raised his furry head for a moment, but seeing nothing wrong, returned to his doggy dreams.

Ignoring the dog, he slowly approached the picture for one last look. His finger traced the outline of her face before he made a sound of disgust and clicked off the light. It didn’t help. He could still see her sitting on the crumbling stone steps of a city apartment building, gazing at the dawn. Her beguiling face was bathed in the morning light, and her lips curved upward in a secret smile. He blinked, but she still sat there. Waiting.

“I’ll find you.” It was both a threat and a promise that he left her with as he made his way back down the hall and to bed.

Chapter One

“I need a Caesar salad, two pasta salad specials and a chicken salad sandwich on multigrain.” Katie clipped the orders to the board hanging just inside the kitchen door, and deftly scooped up the plates that waited on the counter. She didn’t wait for a reply or even an acknowledgement. She knew that Lucas had heard her. He always did.

She smiled as she watched him work. Lucas Squires was her boss and friend. He owned this popular coffee shop, aptly named Coffee Breaks, where she had worked since she was fourteen. Lucas had started her in the kitchen washing dishes and helping prep for meals. He had taught her how to cook and then eventually, she moved out into the shop to waitress. The patrons were friendly and the tips were good, but most of all Katie felt at home here.

Bumping her hip against the swinging door, she swept back out of the kitchen and into the lunchtime fray. Her movements were smooth and economical as she placed orders in front of their rightful owners. She smiled and chatted as she dispensed coffee, tea, and cold drinks, all the while tempting her customers to try a double fudge brownie, a Napoleon, a strawberry tart, or some other delight from behind the bakery case for dessert. Many of the people she served were regular customers, people who worked in the office buildings a few blocks over who made the trek here once or twice a week because the food was excellent and the desserts were sublime.

Katie rang up sales, scooped up pastries and slices of pie for people to take home or back to the office, cleared tables, and collected smiles and tips in equal quantity. Katie had a natural friendly air about her that made people feel comfortable. She drew people to her with her easy smile and lively blue eyes. She had an unhurried manner about her that permeated the shop, giving the place a relaxed and cheerful atmosphere.

Katie glanced at the clock as the last lunchtime group, a table of five, left. A handful of customers were scattered around the shop, but everyone had their orders and were busy finishing their meals or sipping their coffee. It was just before two in the afternoon and the busiest part of the day was behind her. Between now and closing at six there would be a slow but steady stream of people who just wanted a coffee or a snack.

Sighing in relief, Katie stretched her arms over her head, the move accentuating her long, lean, athletic build. Standing five foot eight in her stocking feet, she was as comfortable with her size ten body as she was with her short brown hair, cut in a no-nonsense style. Katie wore no makeup and her morning routine consisted of a shower, moisturizer, and running her fingers through her hair. Her movements drew more than one appreciative male eye, but Katie never noticed.

“Is that it?”

Katie turned at the sound of Lucas’s rough voice. She watched as he scanned the shop, missing nothing. “That’s the end of the lunch crowd.”

“Have Judy watch the counter.” Lucas disappeared back into the kitchen.

Katie shook her head, amused at her boss’s shorthand speech. “Judy, I’m out back talking to Lucas. Call if you need anything.” One more glance reassured her that the teenage girl would be fine for a few minutes, so she poured herself a cup of iced tea and retreated to the sanctuary of the kitchen.

Standing in the doorway, she paused for a moment, and watched Lucas work. At forty, he was sixteen years her senior, but he’d always treated her like a younger sister. He was six feet tall, but looked much larger as he was built like a brick building, solid and unyielding. His face was a strong one, compelling, if not classically handsome with a nose that had been broken more than once. His blond hair was cut short and was not yet showing any signs of gray. Most customers would never have believed that it was this man who created the culinary treats that they purchased every day.

A tattoo peeked out from under the edge of his white t-shirt and Katie knew the barbed wire design ran all the way around his biceps. It was one of several he had, all reminders of his days in prison.

Behind his hard façade, Katie knew, lay one of the gentlest souls in the world. Lucas had discovered his skill at baking behind bars when at eighteen he’d gone to jail for severely beating a man. That he’d been protecting his mother from his abusive father at the time had not mattered to the courts. By the time he’d gotten out of prison several years later, his mother was dead and his father was doing time for the deed.

Katie walked over to him and leaned into his side. His arm automatically came around her shoulders. She was alone since the death of her beloved grandmother, Olivia, and though they were an unlikely pair, they were family by choice, if not by blood.

“Is everything all right?” Katie placed her glass on the counter and waited patiently.

“Yeah, for now.” He gave her a quick squeeze before moving away from her. Opening the oven door, he checked the pies that were baking and then removed them, one by one, until all six of them were steaming on the counter. The air was filled with the smells of cherries, apples, and cinnamon.

He laughed when she breathed deeply and sighed, then deftly cut a piece of cherry pie and heaped it onto a plate. “Let it cool for a minute so you don’t burn your tongue,” he cautioned her as he handed her the plate.

Katie took the mouthwatering piece of pie with one hand, and pulled open a drawer and dug out a fork with the other. Settling everything in front of her at the counter, she pulled over a stool and plunked herself down. “So what’s up?” she asked as she broke off a flaky piece of pastry with her fork.

“I sold your painting.”

Her pie lay forgotten as she stared at Lucas. The hum of the refrigerator was the only sound in the quiet kitchen other than the sudden ringing in her ears. Surely, she had misunderstood him. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Swallowing hard, she tried again. “But that was just for display in the shop.” Her voice shook as badly as her hand, and she carefully laid her fork on the edge of the plate. The clink of stainless steel against the earthenware plate sounded unusually loud in the silence that followed.

Lucas just shook his head. They’d had this conversation before and he was continually frustrated by her insistence that she keep her talent a secret. “Your work is good enough to display, it’s good enough to sell.” His pale blue eyes studied her as he drew up another stool and sat next to her. “What are you waiting for, Katie? You can’t stay here forever.”

“Don’t you want me here?” She felt lightheaded and slightly nauseous at the thought that Lucas might want her to go. Her hands grasped the edge of the counter for support.

“Honey, of course I want you here.” He reached across the counter and took her pale, cool hand in his larger, warmer one. “But you’re better than this place, Katie. You’ve got real talent.” She stared at his familiar countenance, gauging the sincerity of his words. Lucas had never lied to her.

“I’m not ready to leave. I don’t want to leave.” Her voice was getting louder and more agitated as she spoke. Katie took a deep breath. Then another. It didn’t help. Her heart continued to pound inside her chest, and the room seemed to spin around her.

“You don’t have to go anywhere,” Lucas soothed, his voice low and reassuring. “But I want you to consider letting me hang some of your work here. We could advertise it and have a small opening party here at the shop.” Ruthlessly, he played his trump card. “It would be good for business.”

Katie’s thoughts continued to whirl. The painting had been a self-portrait of sorts. It was a side view of her, sitting on the stone steps of her apartment building, watching the sunrise over the city. She knew she’d captured the beauty of the moment as the colors of the morning sun had washed the aged buildings, making the old, decrepit neighborhood beautiful for that one moment of time.

“Who bought it?” Katie found it hard to imagine her painting hanging in some stranger’s home.

Lucas shrugged, unconcerned by such details. “I don’t know, really. Some businessmen sent his assistant down to buy it. I told her it wasn’t for sale.” His eyes gleamed and a rare smile crossed his face. “Next thing I know she’s on the cell phone and is offering me two thousand for it.”

“Dollars?” Katie managed to sputter.

“Yeah, that was my reaction. I guess she took my shock for denial and offered three.” Reaching into his apron pocket he withdrew a plain envelope. “I told her that the artist wanted thirty-five hundred in cash.”

Katie’s hand shook as she reached out and took the envelope. She opened it and just stared at the contents as they slid out of her nerveless fingers. A pile of fifties spilled onto the counter. Katie had never seen that much money at one time in her entire life.