Karen Rose - Have You Seen Her?

Nicky reached out and tugged Jim's tunic. "Why does he wear this?"

"Jim's a therapy dog. He and I go to visit sick people and Jim helps them feel better."

Nicky's red brows scrunched together. "How can a dog make sick people better?"

Jenna watched him scratching Jim's ears and remembering his ordeal, carefully considered her answer. "Have you ever been afraid, Nicky?"

Nicky's hand went still on Jim's head. Nicky stood frozen and somehow sensing the importance, Jim didn't move a muscle.

Jenna quietly drew a breath. "Well, sometimes sick people are afraid. They're afraid because maybe they hurt, or maybe the doctor is about to poke them with needles. When they pat Jim's head, it helps them forget about being afraid for a little while. And that makes them feel better."

After what seemed like an eternity, Nicky began scratching Jim's head again. "Then he must be a very nice dog."

Jenna let out the breath she held. "He is. Would you mind if I let him off his lead?"

Nicky shook his head. "No, let him go. I'll take him to meet Cindy Lou."

Jenna stood up, watching Jim obediently follow Nicky through the kitchen. She turned to find Helen's eyes glistening and Matt's teasing expression replaced with a seriousness that approached Nicky's. This entire family was hurting, she realized. She cleared her throat, forcing emotion back down. "Jim's well trained. He won't hurt Nicky."

Helen blinked, then brushed the moisture from her face without shame. "I don't doubt that, Jenna." Her eyes brightened. "Come to the kitchen and tell me about therapy dogs while I carve the turkey." She threw a meaningful glance toward Matt. "I will be carving the turkey, Matt, with a very sharp instrument. I do not recommend trying to steal a taste."

Matt grinned, shaking off his seriousness. "But I'm very fast."

Helen shrugged. "As long as you don't feel you need those fingers. Come along, Jenna."

"Wait."

Jenna stopped in her tracks and looked up the stairs. Brad stood at the top, his hand massaging the back of his neck, his face grizzled with at least two days' beard. He descended the stairs with a shuffling step and came to a stop in front of her.

"Dr. Marshall."

Jenna studied him up close, seeing the dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes. "Brad." she said softly. "I was hoping I'd see you. I left my briefcase in your dad's car Friday when he gave me a ride home after school."

He looked down at her feet, then back up, his eyes alert and discerning despite the dark circles. "What happened to your car?"

Jenna lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. "Somebody vandalized it. Slashed the tires."

His brown eyes flashed and his jaw hardened. "Rudy Lutz. Lousy scum."

She shrugged again. "Maybe. But it's already fixed." She smiled at him, as gently as she could. "How are you, Brad? I missed you in class on Friday."

He looked away. "I couldn't stay." His voice was harsh with what sounded like self-rebuke and Jenna's heart softened.

She squeezed his shoulder. "We can talk about it on Monday."

Brad turned his head in the direction Nicky had gone. "I heard you talk to my brother."

"He's a cute little boy."

"Yeah." Brad turned back and met her eyes directly and again Jenna felt his misery, a palpable pressure against her heart. "He doesn't talk often. Thank you."

Jenna swallowed, wishing she could take both boys into her arms for a hug. "Hey, I heard there was turkey for dinner. Are you as hungry as I am?"

Brad looked back to the kitchen where Nicky was earnestly introducing Jim to an enormous gray ball of fluff. No hint of a smile touched his lips. "I could eat."

Jenna made her own lips curve even though she felt more like crying. "Then let's go before Matt 'tastes' all the white meat."

Sunday, October 2, 6:13 P.M.

Steven pulled into his driveway, kicking himself for being late for a family dinner, when his eyes narrowed at the old Ford Explorer parked in front of his house. Company . A spurt of anger flared. That old sneak . Helen lured him home with the promise of a family dinnei, turkey with all the trimmings, only to really set him up with a blind date. He ground his teeth. After dealing with the press all day, he was not in the mood to be blatantly disobeyed by a meddling old woman. He'd told Helen again and again to stop her matchmaking. Today was the day she'd listen.

He got out of the car and slammed the door hard. Helen's matchmaking would be a total failure without half the match-him to be precise. He'd pass on the "family" dinner and barricade himself in his study. He had enough work to keep him busy for the rest of the night, easily. But the aroma that met his nose when he opened the front door made him quickly amend his plan. He drew an appreciative breath. As infuriating as she could be, Helen was a damn good cook and he was starving. He'd make himself a plate, then barricade himself in his study. A man had needs after all.

Food. Turkey. And sex. Jenna Marshall .

Not necessarily in that order, he thought bitterly. He couldn't even say her picture "flashed" in his mind, because it had been there all damn day. Through his team meeting this morning, the hellish impromptu press conference-she'd been there. Black hair, violet eyes, and all those curves… God . He had more important things to worry about. Saman-tha Eggleston. Brad. Nicky.

Yet still, Jenna stayed in his mind. Fantasy and memory switching back and forth until he thought he was going to scream. Jenna offering comfort with her eyes wide and hopeful. Sexy as hell sprawled on the floor of the school lobby, her skirt hiked high above the tops of those silk stockings. Naked in his bed, panting and crying his name as she came around him. He shuddered from the sheer force of the fantasy. God .

Jenna sitting at his dining-room table.

Steven stopped in the archway and blinked. This was neither fantasy nor memory. Jenna Marshall sat at his dining-room table. Eating his turkey. Sitting between his youngest sons while his aunt looked on in beaming approval.

Jenna Marshall, party to his aunt's schemes.

He'd been set up. By Helen. By Jenna herself. While he'd been kicking himself for having entirely normal fantasies, she'd been scheming with Helen. He felt doubly betrayed. Unholy fury, pent up all day, simmered and burst forth.

"What the hell is going on here?" he asked, his voice menacingly quiet to his own ears.

The buzz of conversation instantly ceased and every head looked up. He watched Jenna slowly put her fork on her plate. She said nothing, just looked up at him with those eyes of hers. But unlike Friday, they weren't full of compassion, but reproach.

Which made him even angrier. On the edge of his vision he saw Helen rise to her feet.

"You were late. We started without you," Helen said coldly.

"I can see that," he gritted from behind clenched teeth.

"And we have a guest," Helen added, her voice dropping to sheer ice.

Steven matched her tone, not taking his eyes from Jenna's face, which had gone still as stone. "I can see that too. I also remember telling you I didn't want any company this weekend and I especially didn't want another of your damn blind dates. I didn't know the two of you knew each other, Helen. What exactly are you doing here, Dr. Marshall?" he added, his voice deceptively mild.

"We didn't know each other until today," Helen said, balling her fists at her sides. "And I didn't know my nephew could be so rude."

Jenna stood up abruptly. "I think I should be going now." She looked over at Helen. "May I have my briefcase now?"

Briefcase . Steven drew a breath and felt his fury fizzle into a tiny wisp of smoke. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He'd stepped in it. Royally. "You came to get your briefcase."