When Hearts Collide - By James, Kendra Page 0,29

and she was afraid it might explode. What if it had? She’d saved their lives. Was that why he kept dreaming about her?

Pearce pictured Molly’s freckled elfin face and the locks of red hair that kept falling forward, concealing her deep green eyes, eyes that reminded him of emeralds. Her hair looked soft and thick and rich. What it would be like to run his fingers through those curls? Would they slip through his fingers like imported silk?

As he drifted into sleep, Pearce’s last impression was the whisper of scarlet curls caressing his cheek. He dreamed about soft red tresses, deep green eyes, a freckled elfin face. But the face had a body—a body lying beside him, its curves snuggling into his, soft and warm, melting against him.

Pearce slept until suppertime. Had he sensed her presence? The object of his dreams peeked around the doorframe.

“You finally awake?”

He blinked the sleep out of his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Suppertime. Are you hungry? I made a cake in celebration of your homecoming.”

“Cake sounds delicious.”

Her dimpled grin set off a little flutter in his chest. Was having her in his home, with her devastatingly attractive smile, going to prove too dangerous? Too late for that now. At least it was only for a short time. A few days where he could enjoy the effect she had on his body and his emotions, then he would be able to look after himself and Gracie, and she’d be on her way.

“Molly, can you help me to the family room? I’d like to watch the news.”

Molly brought the wheelchair close to the bed. She slid her arms around him, supporting him from bed to chair, and then again to the chesterfield in the family room. All the while he tried to deny the effect her closeness had on his body.

No one was hungry, so Molly made soup and sandwiches. They celebrated with cake and ice cream. He’d propped his legs up on an ottoman and watched a comedy rerun. Molly was coming back from putting Gracie to bed, and he called out to her. “You look tired. Come and sit.” He patted the chesterfield beside him.

“It shows, does it?” Molly plopped down on the other end of the sofa.

Her grin touched a soft spot that set his pulse racing. He grinned back. “Gracie can be a trial at times.”

“She was overtired with all the excitement of you coming home. Plus having a sugar rush from all the cake and ice cream she ate.” Molly sighed. “But she’s bathed, had a couple of stories read to her, and she’s finally asleep.”

“You look like you’re ready for bed yourself.”

Molly laughed. “I must admit I almost fell asleep. I had to lie down beside Gracie to keep her in bed, and my eyes were drooping before hers. I should have had a second helping of ice cream, too.”

Pearce watched her. He saw a wistful look come into her eyes. “Molly, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“I’ve wondered why you put your life on hold to stay here and look after us.” He smiled. “You were a lifesaver for me. I wouldn’t have been able to stand it if Gracie had been taken by Children’s Aid and put in a foster home, even if it was for a short time.”

“I didn’t want to see her go to foster care, either.”

Pearce tipped his head, examining her. Molly looked away, took one of the throw pillows, and hugged it to her chest. Was there more behind her words? He thought he detected a tension in the line of her lips.

“I feel like there’s more to it than just not wanting Gracie in foster care. Is there, Molly?”

Molly looked quickly at him, then averted her eyes. “No.”

He spoke softly. “Really?”

Molly met his gaze, watchful. He wondered if she was deciding if she could trust him. After a short pause, she spoke.

“I was in foster care. My sister and I.”

He took her hand and felt tiny electric shocks synapse between their bodies. He looked up. Had she felt it, too? There was an intense look to her eyes that made him wonder.

“How long were you in foster care?”

“Too long.”

Molly’s lips were a tight line, and a vein twitched in her neck. Pearce spoke softly. “Tell me about your childhood.”

She shrugged. “There’s not a lot to tell.”

“I have time.” Pearce lifted his casted leg. “I’m a captive audience.”

Molly laughed. “I guess you are.”

“Tell me.”

Shrugging again, Molly paused, as if wondering where to start.

“I was