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Widow Sarah Johnson struggled to pick up the pieces after her life was ripped apart. After two years of grieving, she's found contentment in her thriving business as photographer to Hollywood's A-list and in raising her angel-faced daughter, Kylee... until bodyguard and long-time friend Ethan Cooke changes everything with a searing moonlight kiss.
Sarah's world turns upside down as she struggles with her unexpected attraction to Ethan and the guilt of betraying her husband's memory. But when blue roses and disturbing notes start appearing on her doorstep, she has no choice but to lean on Ethan as he fights to save her from a stalker that won't stop until he has what he prizes most.
Ethan went to the pantry, grabbed a loaf of bread. “Why don’t you tell me what you need?” He pulled open a cupboard, took out a plate.
“A shower.” She smiled again and nibbled at her lip.
Ethan’s eyes zeroed in on Kylee, and he took a step back. “Geez, I don’t know, Sarah. I’ve never held a baby before. What if I drop her?”
A laugh bubbled in her throat at the sheer horror in Ethan’s eyes. Even after he’d helped her through hours of labor, watched her deliver Kylee, and cut the cord in Jake’s honor, he’d refused to hold her.
Sarah walked to where he stood. “You’re not going to drop her. Fold your arm like this.” She held her arm out, bending at the elbow.
Ethan cleared his throat and followed her lead. Sarah placed Kylee in the crook of his rigid arm. He grabbed her hand when Kylee squirmed. “She’s moving, she’s moving. She’s going to fall. Shit, Sarah, I really think this is a bad idea.”
“I think it’s a great idea. Trust me on this one.” She adjusted the baby slightly, moved his arm closer to his body, making sure his hand held Kylee under her diapered bottom. She backed away from them, grinning at the discomfort and mild panic she read all over Ethan’s face. “You’re a natural. Look at you two. I need my camera.”
Ethan groaned as she moved to the pile of bags outside the kitchen door and grabbed her case, pulling her Nikon D3 from the bag. She held the camera up, looked through the lens. For a test shot, she focused on Ethan’s arresting face. Sharp cheekbones and straight black eyebrows accentuated long, thick eyelashes and bold gray eyes. She zoomed in on the clear gray pools surrounded by dark, smoky rings, pressed the shutter closed in rapid succession. His firm, full lips and muscular torso showcased a man perfectly comfortable with his masculinity. She tightened her focus on his big hand holding Kylee’s little body, clicked away again, moved in closer, snapped more, getting lost in her passion for pictures.
“Sarah, do you want that shower or not?”
She pulled the camera back, focused on Ethan’s raised brow and lips pressed firm in annoyance. “Sorry. I got a little carried away. You two make excellent subjects. The camera loves your face.”
“So you’ve told me more times than I can count.”
She placed the Nikon back in the bag, zipped it closed. “You’re doing a great job with her.”
He glanced down at Kylee. “I guess this is okay.”
“See? I’ll be quick. She just ate, so she should sleep. Here’s the burp cloth, just in case she spits up.” Sarah draped the cotton towel over Ethan’s shoulder.
As she backed out of the kitchen, Ethan took a step forward. “Wait. Um, what if she starts to cry?”
Amused by his distress, Sarah couldn’t help but smile. The man standing before her dealt with the scum of the earth every day, yet a seven pound infant brought him to his knees. “Just jiggle your arm a little bit. She’ll fall right back to sleep.” She turned and walked toward the bathroom, called over her shoulder, “Oh, and relax. Babies feel tension.”
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