distinct accent than Zoe’s mother had possessed.
“Where’s Samantha?” Ryan asked, nerves jumbled together inside him.
“There,” Zoe said, pointing.
Ryan followed her direction and once again felt sure he was hallucinating. The monkey he’d seen earlier stood on the back of a large dog, balancing with ease. The animals came to a halt when a bald man carrying a huge ice-cream cake stepped forward. By his side walked a beautiful blond teenager, her hand tight in the crook of his elbow.
“Faith,” he said aloud.
“Sam. That’s my soon-to-be sister, Samantha,” Zoe said with pride. “Of course we already think of her as part of the family,” she quickly assured him.
He nodded but couldn’t speak any more than he could take his eyes off the girl who was the spitting image of his sister. At fourteen, Sam was three years younger than Faith had been at the time she’d run away. Sam possessed the same long, blond hair and similar features, with one marked difference. Where Faith had been morose, constrained by their conservative family’s demands and expectations, Sam appeared vibrant, happy and full of life.
He swallowed over the lump in his throat. “She’s a beautiful child.”
“Yes, she is. I’m sure the picture in Social Services files doesn’t do her justice,” Zoe said.
He muttered a noncommittal reply.
Their conversation ended when the “Happy Birthday” song began. The monkey blew out the candles before Sam could get to them. Laughing, she gave the animal a high five, and in turn, the monkey blew her a raspberry and then shot her a huge grin followed by a kiss.
The routine seemed practiced. “It seems like she knows the monkey,” he said, wondering if he sounded as stupid as he felt.
“She does,” Zoe said, unfazed. “Spank lived here for a while.”
“Spank?”
“The monkey.” Zoe rolled her eyes. “Please don’t ask, okay? She’s gone. She lives with her trainer, and we’re not violating any laws or rules, and we would never, ever put Sam or any other child in danger.” Zoe’s once self-confident voice took on a pleading tone as she obviously realized she’d slipped with her admission.
Once more, he sought to reassure her. “I can see that you wouldn’t.” Unable to stop himself, he reached out and touched her hand.
The spark of awareness was instant and energizing. His gaze immediately flew to hers, and in those green eyes, he saw equal doses of surprise and pleasure.
He felt the same and knew he shouldn’t because of who he was. But he let his fingertips linger. Her skin was soft, the texture as intriguing as the woman herself. He’d never felt such instant desire. How ironic it would be with a woman he couldn’t allow himself to get close to.
She met his gaze and smiled, a full, honest, interested smile. Ryan didn’t find trouble often, but he’d found it with Zoe Costas.
“Do you want to meet Sam? See for yourself how happy she is with my parents?” Her voice was a touch hoarser than before. The desire and awareness between them might be unspoken, but it was now a tangible thing.
He nodded. “I’d like to meet her.”
“Sam!” Zoe called, and the girl came running.
Her eyes lit up as she reached Zoe. “Hey, sis. Having fun?”
Sis. He shuddered at the memory the word evoked and at the fact that his niece obviously already felt like part of the family.
“The best. I want you to meet someone.” Zoe gestured toward Ryan.
He straightened his shoulders, suddenly feeling stiff and uncomfortable as Sam looked him over from head to toe, then frowned. “I hope he’s not your boyfriend.” She wrinkled her nose in the disgust only a teenager could demonstrate.
Clearly, he’d come up lacking. He tried not to let it bother him since she didn’t know him yet.
“Sam, that’s not nice,” Zoe chided. “And Mr. Baldwin happens to be Katherine’s replacement. He’s your social worker, not my boyfriend.”
“Oh, man, I’m sorry.” The young girl glanced down and began fingering old keys that dangled from a chain around her neck.
Scared? Chastised? He wasn’t sure but finally she looked up again, meeting his gaze.
“Hey, mister, I bet I can tell you where you got them shoes,” Sam said, her joke an obvious attempt at bravado in the face of her mistake.
He shot Zoe a questioning look.
She grinned, clearly amused but not giving away any of Sam’s secrets.
He shrugged. “Okay, I’ll play. Where’d I get my shoes?”
“You got ’em on your feet,” Sam said and burst into belly-aching laughter at her own joke.
He didn’t catch on immediately, and when