Looking up at him made her uncomfortable, so she stood, too. She wanted them to be on level ground. “I didn’t sleep much last night.”

He tapped his foot with impatience, silently urging her to cut the chitchat.

“I can’t marry you, Michael.” When he turned away, she grabbed his arm, because it was important he hear her out.

“Marriage is sacred. We both believe that. Even if I said yes, I don’t think you would go through with it. You don’t love me, and I don’t love you. At least, we don’t love each other in the way a man and woman should love each other. And we’re the type of people who believe marriage is forever. So where would that leave us when this is all over? And how could that be good for any of us—especially Sharla?”

She didn’t pause long enough for him to answer because she had to finish before she lost her nerve.

“But I want to help.” Michael met her gaze, and she saw the glimmer of hope. He was so desperate he would accept any scrap she would toss his way.

“I don’t see what you can do—”

“I can accept your marriage proposal, and for the next six weeks we can pretend to be engaged. By that time, you should have received custody of Sharla, and I’ll go back to work.”

Michael stared at her in disbelief. “You’ll do that?”

She nodded. It was crazy, but she would do it. “For Sharla,” she reminded him. And for Angelina, she thought.

When her words finally sunk in, his laughter filled the air. Michael grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close. If it hadn’t been for the pain in his chest, they might have danced across the lawn. Unprepared for how good it would feel to be in his arms again, Josie closed her eyes to stop the dizziness, and prayed she’d made the right decision.

For the next six weeks she would once again be Michael’s fiancée. It was a role she’d survived once. How difficult could it be to do it again?

Time became meaningless as Michael continued to hold her. His enthusiasm was contagious, and Josie found herself breathing in sync with his every breath.

Above them, the stars became pinpoints of light, while the moon climbed toward its high perch. Though the summer evening was quiet, Josie heard music. She heard a symphony of hope and peace.

When their gazes met, the song in Josie’s heart faded to silence. Without thinking she leaned forward, meeting Michael halfway. She felt his breath on her mouth and down the front of her throat. She swallowed. A horn honked in the distance, and Josie came back to the present.

She pulled away, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I was lost in time…”

“Yeah, me, too.”

They continued to look at each other, neither daring to put words to all the feelings that had just passed between them.

“Let’s just forget this happened,” Michael suggested.

“That’s a good idea. We were just caught up in an old memory.”

Josie wanted to run, but that would be like saying she was afraid of Michael. And she wasn’t. But she was afraid of the way she had once loved him. The old memories weren’t buried as deeply in her heart as she’d thought, and tonight had proved that.

She let her gaze circle the backyard, and it all came back to her. Michael had proposed to her the first time, right here on this very spot. It, too, had been a summer night filled with moonlight and promise.

“If you think you can’t handle this,” Michael said, “tell me now, and you can walk away.”

Josie didn’t look at him immediately. The wise thing to do would be to bow out gracefully, but that would be the same as admitting she was still enamored with him. And she wasn’t. She just hadn’t expected to be blasted with so many feelings from the past. The raw emotion had caught her off guard, that’s all.

Josie took a deep breath and thinking of both Sharla and Angelina she said, “I promised to help you, and I will.”

Chapter Three

She’d made a huge mistake.

Josie pulled the covers over her head and disappeared into darkness. It was a bad dream. A very bad dream. That’s all. She would drift back to sleep, and when she woke up, she would be plain, old, unengaged Josie Marshall again.

A few minutes later, she cautiously peeked out from beneath the covers, but nothing had changed.

“Ooh,” Josie grumbled as she punched the pillow. “I can do this,” she told herself. “If I keep things simple, it won’t be that difficult,” she mumbled. She would play the role of Michael’s fiancée when needed, and then the rest of the time she would focus on the real reason she’d needed this unscheduled hiatus.

With her bedroom door partly open, the delicious smells of bacon and biscuits drifted up the stairway. Her mouth watered, prompting her to get dressed and join her parents for breakfast.

At the top of the stairs, she paused. Her parents’ voices were low enough that she couldn’t follow their conversation clearly, but the bits and pieces that traveled through the otherwise quiet house were light and teasing, tender and loving. Only eighteen months ago, she’d flown home from London to help them celebrate their thirtieth wedding anniversary.

No one had ever had to tell her the love her parents shared was special, a rare commodity these days. They had the kind of relationship she dreamed of having one day. A long time ago, she’d believed she’d found that kind of love with Michael, but they had been too young, too immature to hold on to it.

It wouldn’t be easy for her and Michael to fool her parents. If only there were another way she could help Michael and Sharla.

Josie started down the stairway, then on impulse rushed back to her room and dialed Michael’s number.

“Good morning,” Michael said. At the sound of his warm, cheery voice Josie sighed with relief when she didn’t feel a tug in her heart. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how desperately she needed proof that the emotions his embrace had evoked last night were merely remnants from their past.

“Hello,” Michael repeated.

“It’s Josie,” she said. “We’ve got to talk.”

“I’ll be right over,” he said, then quickly hung up the telephone.

“No, Michael. Wait,” she quietly yelled.

Even though she heard dial tone, she kept on talking. “I don’t want you to come over here. I don’t want us to spend any more time together than necessary. But we have to have a plan or this phony engagement is going to backfire on all of us.”

She glared at the telephone and then punched her pillow.

By the time she entered the kitchen, Michael had already joined her parents at the table. Her mother served him a large plate of scrambled eggs just the way he loved them—smothered in hot salsa.

“Good morning, pumpkin.” Her father hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ve got an early meeting this morning, so I’m off. But I’ll see you at dinner tonight.”

“I can’t wait.” Josie smiled, thinking how pleasant it would be to spend a quiet evening with her parents.

John Marshall winked, and then he was gone.

Sarah poured Michael a cup of strong coffee, then followed her husband to the front door.

In a loud whisper, Josie said, “You’ve got to get out of here.”

“And pass up my favorite breakfast? No way.” Michael added cream to his coffee.

“We need to talk before this goes any further,” Josie insisted. With her frustration level rising, and her parents saying their goodbyes nearby, she feared she would say something she might later regret.

“We do need to talk,” he said, meeting her gaze.

She relaxed a little.

“But after breakfast.”

“Michael!” Where did he find the nerve to barge into her home? She’d agreed to be his pretend fiancée; she hadn’t agreed to hand over control of her life.

Josie silently drummed her fingers on the table while Michael cleaned his plate and ate a second biscuit. When he’d finished his meal and her mother still hadn’t returned to the kitchen, Josie realized Sarah Marshall was up to her old tricks. Sarah had always believed Josie and Michael belonged together. It seemed the old dream might still be alive.