Coupling up with Jude McMillan…
Wow. Hell of a concept.
She attempted to pull in a deep breath, but it was shaky and feeble at best.
Kate’s gaze swept over the immediate area. The gorgeous twin staircases that rose to an open second-floor mezzanine. All the decorative, scrolled wrought-iron railings and the marble floors. The stately chandeliers. The expensive-looking accent tables and potted topiary.
A vision of this place at Christmastime instantly popped into her head. Kate could see a twenty-foot tall tree as the centerpiece in the entryway, elegantly adorned with ornaments and beautifully wrapped packages tucked beneath the plush limbs. Lighted garland twined around the railings. Carols wafting from hidden speakers. Children racing down the stairs to get to their presents.
Kate’s heart stuttered—and she practically heard the distinct sound of a needle skidding across a vinyl record.
Whoa! Wait… What?!
Children racing down the stairs to get to their presents…
Holy hell!
The visual was crystal-clear. Too highly detailed. Too much of an imminent reality—for Jude.
This house was designed specifically for the image filling Kate’s head.
But it wasn’t her reality.
Suddenly, Kate couldn’t breathe. Her knees nearly knocked together. She needed to sit.
Her gaze flashed to one of the chairs by a foyer table.
Too far away.
Her hand shot out and she clasped Jude’s arm as the room took a quick twirl at her expense.
“Kate.” He grabbed hold of her, stabilizing her. “What the hell? Are you okay?”
“I was…thinking…” She gasped for air. “And then the room was…spinning.”
“Jesus.” He pulled her to him, engulfing her in his strong arms, holding her upright. A moment or two passed and Kate inhaled his familiar scent. Calm rippled through her. Her breaths deepened.
“Damn, you smell good,” she whispered.
“Hardly the time to be teasing me, Kate.”
“Sorry. I’m fine. I promise. I just had a moment of…of…”
Of?
Kate had no clue what the hell she’d just had a moment of. What on earth had just happened to her?
The vision that had materialized so easily in her brain had been way too specific. Right down to the three kids—two boys with Jude’s dark hair and eyes. A younger girl, with Kate’s bronze locks and golden irises.
“Son of a bitch,” she mumbled.
“Excuse me?”
Kate’s stomach twisted.
She was not on the hunt for a husband, a six-bedroom apartment in Tribeca, two dark-haired boys and one tawny-eyed little girl. Kate’s aspirations were leading her overseas. To a danger zone. To a place where she could hopefully connect with and heal men, women and children who needed her services on that ominously ravaged level on which Jude had once needed her.
And yet, how incredibly amazing did it feel to be in his arms, inhaling his intoxicating scent?