His pulse was still racing, and his stomach was still doing loops. He’d known Jennie was somewhere in the hospital, but it was clear that she’d been surprised—okay, shocked—to see him. His heart had jumped at the sight of her, and he’d known that, for him, nothing had changed. He was as much in love with her now as he had been the day she’d bumped into him in the gym. Jennie had only grown more beautiful in the years they’d been separated, but the vivacious girl he’d known was now encased in a hard shell of reserve. Her gray eyes had been cautious and her posture rigid. Her soft curves and long legs had been concealed by an expensive suede jacket and ironed jeans with a sharp crease down the front. That cold, aloof lady wasn’t his Jennie. That was Jennifer Fairchild Hart, the senator’s widow. But he’d seen flashes of the girl he’d loved. Boldness. Impertinence. Defiance. Just enough to believe that she was still in there. Just enough to offer him hope. There had to be some way to convince Jennie to give them a second chance.
