He stalked closer, careful steps that brought us face to face. My back was against the door as he placed a flat palm beside my head. He towered over me, wordless empty seconds passing between us. "That place is in the past, and that's where it'll stay. Do you understand me?"

I took a few unsteady breaths. As much as I wanted to know, I questioned whether I should. "You can talk to me, Blake."

His lips fell open a fraction. Filled with a nameless emotion, his gaze darted over me. Before either of us could say a word, he captured my face in his hands and melded our mouths together. His motions were rough, his lips a bruising force against my own, as if he were trying to erase the past twenty minutes. Maybe he was simply trying to erase the past. We could get lost that way sometimes, forgetting everything. But even his fierce passion now couldn't overwhelm what had been said and everything I'd heard.

I pushed him back, ripping us apart. Jagged breaths burned through my lungs and tears threatened, a well of emotion that this morning had brought to the surface.

"Goddamn it, tell me."

Adrenaline and love and the slice of fear that came with facing off with the uncompromising side of Blake pulsed through my veins. He curled his arms around my body, pulling me into a firm embrace that I was powerless to fight. His breath danced over my neck, his lips, softer now, almost resigned as they slid over my pulse. The tender way he moved over me almost demanded that I relax and stop fighting him. I weakened, wanting him to make this all right.

"Let it go. Please." He brushed his cheek against mine. "Just let it go."

I squeezed my eyes closed and held him back, wishing like hell that I could.

CHAPTER THREE.

I stared out our bedroom window into the moonlit darkness. I replayed Blake's conversation with Sophia in my head, over and over, like a track on repeat that wouldn't stop no matter how much I wanted it to. I tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable, but I couldn't forget the anger in her voice. Worse, the pain in it-an unsettling reminder that they'd loved each other once. That she still loved him.

And what the hell was the club? I'd thought of little else for the rest of the day but resisted the urge to ask him to tell me more about it. When it came to his past, I had to pry every painful detail from him. I planned to, but tonight I held back. A part of me didn't want to upset him even more than Sophia's visit had, but a deeper part of me worried about what I'd learn with the truth. Did I really want to know about this sliver of history that Sophia shared with him?

Still, I was about to become his wife, and I was haunted by the likely truth that she'd always know a side of him that I didn't. That vast unknown was what kept me from sleep as the minutes and hours ticked by. Blake slept peacefully beside me. Moonlight cast shadows over his face. If I hadn't memorized every beautiful feature, he might have looked like a stranger to me now, from this vantage, in the stark black-and-white of night.

Who was Blake...really? What made a man? What made anyone who they are at any given moment?

Blake was many things to me now. A lover, friend, a healer. A mentor too, yes. I cringed, hating Sophia's derogatory use of the word. Who had he been for her? Had he changed so much for me? Would he resent it as our years together wore on? Forever was a long time.

For the first time in a long time, my visions of happily ever after were tainted with unwelcome possibilities. What if I married the man I thought he was, only to find he was someone else entirely? What would I do then? How on earth could I survive without him, or with him, knowing I wasn't making him happy the way others had?

Blake stirred, momentarily pausing the incessant turning of my thoughts and the torturous barrage of doubt-filled questions assaulting my brain. He turned to his side, curling his body alongside mine. I stilled, hoping I hadn't woken him with my restlessness. His bare arm wrapped around me, coaxing me closer until I could feel his heart beating against me, a slow steady rhythm.

"Love you," he murmured against my neck. Seconds later, his breathing returned to its regular sleeping pattern.

I melted back into the welcome warmth of his chest and breathed out a heavy sigh. I wanted to cry then. I wanted to release all the terrible emotions Sophia had conjured. Why had I given her so much power over me? I had Blake's love. He loved me. But...maybe she was right. Doubt resurfaced, making my reassuring affirmations seem childish and inferior.

Maybe I'd never know the man he'd been before or the feelings he'd harbored while they were together. I tortured myself with the thought until my body simply gave up in the early hours, leaving me barely enough sleep to stay functional the next day.

In the morning, I sat at my desk, rubbing my tired eyes. I thought a new day might help. A fresh start and a clear head, except my head was foggy from lack of sleep. Blake and I had shared our morning coffee, but only a few words passed between us after I told him I didn't sleep well. He hadn't asked why. Perhaps he knew.

I tried to force my thoughts back to work, systematically weeding through the tasks of the day. Emails, meetings, getting everyone up to speed. Thankfully the business had been on track and prospering since our latest partnership. Alex Hutchinson, an accomplished tech CEO whose own e-commerce site dovetailed well with our focus on apparel, had taken a chance on me and the results were paying dividends for both our businesses. Thanks to Sid's urging that we expand our reach and Blake's introduction to Alex, we had been able to work out an arrangement where Clozpin referred more sales to his site and his promotions helped build the membership and traffic of ours. The result was that my business was now more than self-sustaining. I was on track to being able to return Blake's initial investment sooner than I'd anticipated and still hold steady.

I looked up from the stack of papers containing August's financials that I'd been working through. The clock on the wall blurred before coming into focus. Noon was approaching, as was my long-overdue lunch date with Marie. I'd considered canceling, but we really needed to talk about Richard. He was her boyfriend, but his role in the local press had become unsettling. As much as I wanted to put off our meeting, I couldn't. I startled when the office phone rang.

A moment later, Alli poked her head around the partition. "It's for you, hon."

"Who is it?"

"Someone from the local news. Maybe they want to do a promo for the site? I would have fielded it but they specifically asked for you."

"Okay, thanks." I picked up the phone. "Hello, this is Erica."

"Miss Hathaway, this is Melissa Baker. I'm from local WBGH. I was hoping to ask you a few questions regarding your connection with Daniel Fitzgerald and his campaign for governor."

I was silent a moment, the sound of blood thrumming through my veins loud in my ears. "Okay," I said, tentatively.

"Reports have been released by the local police in connection with the death of his stepson. Some of these reports imply that you are Fitzgerald's biological daughter. We have sources who have also confirmed that you have been working on his campaign. Can you confirm this?"

Yes, all of that was true, but I wasn't about to aid the media in its mission to smear Daniel's campaign or further link him to Mark's death, which was still under investigation.

I stalled. "I'm sorry, but this actually isn't a good time," I said.

"Perhaps I could stop by your office some time that would be more convenient. I understand you run an Internet business here in Boston."

Jesus, what else did they know? This would be creeping into Blake's arena soon if it wasn't already.

"I'm not inclined to comment at this time. I hope you understand."

"But Miss-"

I hung up the phone quickly and rested my hands on the desk, hoping to still the tremor in them. Shit. It would only be a matter of time before Richard's digging into my personal life would hit the press. As the days passed with no word though, I'd started to hope that Daniel's PR concerns were farfetched.

A little more awake and a lot more frustrated, I left the office to meet Marie. I stepped out of the building stairwell and walked toward the black Escalade that always idled by the curb outside my office. Clay, Blake's hired bodyguard, and most days my personal chauffeur, looked up from the paper he was reading in the driver's side. He unlocked the vehicle. I slid into the back seat.

"Hey, Clay."

"Miss Hathaway," he said, his voice deep and polite.

"You can call me Erica, you know. I won't be Miss Hathaway much longer anyway."

A short nod was his only acknowledgement. "Where to this afternoon?"

"What's your last name?"

Our eyes met in the rearview mirror. "Barker."

"Well, Mr. Barker, I have a lunch date at The Vine on Newbury."

He smiled broadly, revealing his straight white teeth. "Very well, Miss Hathaway."

Ten minutes later, Clay had deposited me in front of the tiny bistro on the busy street. I scanned the dining room for Marie. The eyes of my mother's best friend lit up when I found her. I walked her way and hugged her, relieved to see her but brimming with frustration at the part she'd played in all of this, whether or not she knew it.

"How are you doing, honey? You look tired." Her lips pouted with concern as we settled down across from each other.

"I'm fine. Didn't sleep well last night."

"How's Blake?"

"He's fine. We're fine." I didn't want to get into the real reasons why I'd had a sleepless night. Thoughts of Sophia and their dark past flooded to the forefront of my mind. I pushed them aside when Marie spoke again.

"You must be getting excited about the wedding. I'm sure you can't wait to see Elliot again too. Gosh, I haven't seen him in ages."

I thought back to the last time I'd spoken with my step-father. The conversation had been rushed, and I tried to forget the pangs of disappointment I'd felt learning he wouldn't be coming out to Boston after all.

"He's not coming," I said flatly.

"Why not?

I hesitated. "He reached out to me a while ago to plan a trip out here, to commemorate Mom. It's been ten years."

Her face fell and her lips curled into a sad smile. I closed my eyes, not wanting to think about how Marie had filled my mother's place these past years. Except now we were more friends than anything, and I was absolutely furious with her.

"Anyway, Blake and I want to keep things small. Everything has been happening so fast. I just kept putting off telling Elliot about the wedding, and when we finally talked about him coming out, it sounded like he and Beth were going to be too busy for him to make a quick trip, so I didn't want to put him in an awkward situation by asking about the wedding."

"But he's your..." She sighed softly. "Well, I guess it's your decision, Erica. I'm sure he would make a way to be there, though."

"He offered to fly me out to Chicago, so Blake and I decided to go out this weekend for my birthday. I'll talk to him then and explain everything. It's no big deal, really."

Her eyebrows rose. "That sounds like fun, honey. I bet Blake is going to spoil you rotten." She gave me a girlish smile.

I wanted to return her excitement, but all I could think about was that damn reporter and how this news was threatening to blow up in our faces at any moment.

"Is everything okay?" Marie reached for my hand, feathering her fingers over mine.

I gave her a weak smile and sat back, retreating from her grasp when the waiter filled our waters. We ordered and the silence descended once more.

I cleared my throat quickly. "Are you still seeing Richard?"

"Of course. Why?"

I worried the inside of my lower lip and traced the edge of my cloth napkin on my lap. This wasn't going to be an easy conversation. I didn't want to see Marie upset, but she had to know. I drew in a deep breath, bracing myself. "I have to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me. I know you care about Richard, but this is important."

"What is it? What's going on?"

"Did you tell him that Daniel Fitzgerald was my father?"

Her lips parted silently, her gaze steady on mine. "Why?"

I wilted, defeated by her reaction. I could have believed her if she'd denied it right off the bat. "Because, somehow, the police know that I'm Daniel's daughter. The investigation regarding his son's death still isn't closed, so they've got his life under a microscope right now. Now the press is latching onto this too. I just dodged a call from a local reporter. I have a sinking feeling there will be more."

"Are you implying that Richard had a part in this?"

I tried not to bristle at her defensive tone. Getting angry with her would go nowhere. I had to make her understand. "The night of the Spirit Gala, Richard was there. Remember, you told me to look out for him because he was covering the event with a photographer. He never introduced himself, but when the police questioned me about Mark's death, they had photos of him dancing with me. Not just one. Dozens of photos. Why would someone spend so much time on me, and how did those specific photos find their way into the police's hands?"

Marie picked up her water with shaky hands and swallowed the liquid down hard. "There has to be some other explanation for this. I don't know why Richard would do this."

"Maybe because he's using you to get information about Daniel. About me."

She shook her head with a frown. "That's impossible."

"He's a reporter, Marie. This is his job."

"He wouldn't do this. I know him." Her calm demeanor had risen to an almost frantic state. The truth hurt. This I knew.

I leaned in. "He said himself that his focus is on political news reporting, right? The controversy around Daniel's campaign-with Mark's death and now an illegitimate daughter helping with his campaign-how could he ignore it? Remember how things were on the rocks between you two, but then he came around after the gala? Everything changed between you two, seemingly out of the blue."

"Stop it, Erica," she snapped. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"How could you tell him about Daniel? You couldn't even tell me for a decade, for Christ's sake. And you tell him. A reporter? Now I have no idea what this is going to do to my business or Blake's, not to mention Daniel's campaign."

She scoffed. "You're worried about Daniel's campaign? He's given you nothing. He didn't want anything to do with you, Erica. Patty gave him a chance to be a father, and he chose his blue-blood family and his career. You grew up without a father because of that choice, and now you're fighting for his career too?"

My jaw tightened. She wasn't the only person to hold that belief. Blake would rather see Daniel in jail than anywhere else, but I couldn't stomach the thought of his demise because I'd made the mistake of discovering his identity and seeking him out.

"You don't understand what's at stake," I said simply, not wanting to get into the emotional reasons why I needed Daniel a free man. "What else did you tell him?"

"I don't know, Erica." Her head fell into her palm and she closed her eyes. "I had a couple drinks, and we were talking about how accomplished you are. Once I got going about all you've done under the circumstances, I probably went on for a while. Still, knowing what you mean to me, I can't believe he would intend to hurt you by misusing that information."

"Well, I'm nearly positive that he did." And if Daniel ever found out, God help him.

"No one else knows? What about the people you work with?"

I tossed my napkin on the table and shoved my chair back, losing my patience with Marie's obvious unwillingness to accept the truth of the matter. "Think what you want to, Marie. But do me a favor. Next time you see Richard, ask him if he told anyone else what you told him. Look him in the eye when you do, and tell me if you believe him."

I rose to leave, grabbing my purse.

"Erica, wait."

I paused. "You warned me once to be careful around Daniel. If you care for Richard, you might want to pass that advice on to him too."

I turned and walked out, ignoring her calling out my name one last time. I'd already said too much. But hell, if he was already hot on Daniel's trail, he should know Daniel wasn't a man to be trifled with. Maybe Richard already had his suspicions about Mark's apparent suicide. I had no idea who in Daniel's camp knew the truth. But I'd sworn Blake to secrecy, and I wouldn't be the one to put my own father behind bars.

I came home early and dropped the groceries on the counter. Despite my nagging fatigue, I threw myself into cooking dinner. Blake's family was coming over, and I had been looking forward to hosting since we'd be missing out on this weekend's dinner at his parents'. I lost myself in the task of prepping two large lasagnas, temporarily forgetting the worries that kept threatening to poke through.

I put the pans into the oven to cook and poured myself a full glass of wine, eager for a little mental relief. Alli came through the door after a short knock.

"Hey." She smiled and came to me for a hug. "You didn't come back after lunch. I was worried about you."

"I needed to get some things for the trip this weekend, and I wanted to get a head start on dinner too. Everything going okay?"