He whizzed around the curves like an Indy driver. She peered into the afternoon sun and eyed a street sign for North Mesa. If Trouble didn’t have dog ears, she might just scream. Instead she clenched her fist, her nails biting into her palm. “Not familiar?” Daniel asked. “Not a glimmer, and I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever remember.” “It’s only been a few days. You’re still healing.” He set his hand next to hers on the seat. “Even if you don’t, you’ll go on. You’ll create a new life. You and your daughter—when we find her.” Her heart fluttered at the nearness of his hand. But he didn’t hold it. Was he trying to tell her something? To pull away? Her heart stuttered a bit, because in her mind, she could see a picture as clearly as the landscape through this upscale neighborhood. Daniel, her, Hope. A life together. She would be his. If he wanted her. She couldn’t call it love, because she had no frame of reference, but if love meant your heart skipped whenever he whispered your name, if love meant trusting a man with your life, with your child’s life, if love meant having complete faith a man would always think of you before he thought of himself, if love meant knowing a man could be counted on to protect you heart and soul, then she had to believe she loved Daniel.
