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.He’d mortgaged the house to the hilt, gambled away money he should have used to pay life insurance premiums, which meant there’d been little insurance at all, and left a mountain of gaming debt.There were details Tommi hadn’t been privy to; things her mother had chosen to spare her and her sisters and never shared in the aftermath of that shattering discovery.Though their mom had somehow made sure they stayed in the same good schools, all Tommi had really known at the time was that they’d had to move from their lovely home, that their housekeeper and cook hadn’t gone with them and that their mother had spent years paying off those obligations.Except to pay for school trips, she’d absolutely refused Uncle Harry’s help.Her husband had created the mess, so she would clean it up.She would not rely on Harry’s charity.Tommi hadn’t known if it had been pride or something more nebulous that had guided her mother back then.For all she knew, it might well have been self-preservation.After all, having placed all her faith in one man only to have him let her down so badly, it made sense that she wouldn’t want to count on another.Or maybe what she hadn’t wanted was whatever obligation Harry’s help might have created.It had been a lesson learned, though.One Tommi had taken to heart.If a woman didn’t rely on a man, he couldn’t let her down.Even after all these years, she remembered how lost she’d felt without her father and the awful uncertainty she’d grown up with, having had her sense of security so thoroughly shaken.She couldn’t remember exactly when she’d decided she would do whatever it took to get that sense of security back.She just knew she’d also promised herself that, once she had, she would never put herself in a position to feel that way again.Yet, it was security that was missing from her life now, and what she needed badly to restore.For herself.For her child.The little life growing inside her at that very moment depended on her to make the right choices for her future.Her.It would be a girl.She felt that as surely as she did the need to at least pretend to be as strong as her mother had been back then.It was the least of what her mother would expect of her now.With that thought pushing her, she moved to her next task and opened one of the ovens to check the progress of her cassoulet.Breaking the crust, she ladled its broth over the mélange of meats and white beans.The motions were routine, and comforting in their familiarity.In her kitchen, she felt confident, capable.She had her father to thank for that.Cooking had become her escape from the awful pain of life without him all those years ago, as well as a way to contribute to her family’s care.It was not knowing if the partnership she needed would actually materialize that made it feel as if the rest of the floor just waited to be pulled out from under her.Then there was Max himself.The fact that he had her feeling so off balance didn’t help at all.The ladle clattered against the side of the pan.She didn’t want the thoughts he provoked; that unfamiliar and persistent need to be assured that everything would be all right.It was up to her to make things okay.No one else.As for the need to be held, she’d chalk that up to hormones, pretty much the way she had her craving for the sugary, dry cereal that kept her nausea at bay in the mornings.She couldn’t believe she was actually eating the empty-carb-loaded stuff, much less eating it straight from its cartoon packaging.But she could use a handful of her hidden stash now.The security camera above her back door sent images to the small monitor near the kitchen’s wall clock.As the buzzer by the door’s frame sounded and her glance darted to the screen, she just wasn’t sure if the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach had been brought on by the heat of the dishwasher and oven or because her potential savior had just jump-started those touchy nerves.Max’s secretary had said he’d be there at three-fifteen.The man was nothing if not punctual.“Come on in,” she called, pushing the heavy pan back into the heat.With all in her kitchen under control for the moment, she rested her hand over the uneasy sensation in her stomach and tossed the hot pads onto the prep station.She didn’t have time to get to her Puff Pops [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]