if he was spotted, not really. As long as he hadn't been spotted putting the photograph back, the rest of the day couldn't be anything but gravy.

He took long strides as he headed for his apartment. It was ten blocks away, and he considered a cab. But he needed to think. Was that the last he'd know of Luke Baxter or his sick mother? He gazed up through the spaces in the buildings and wondered. What if by some strange twist of fate, the woman wasn't merely a look-alike? What if she was his mother, too?

The sun must've been lower because the air had cooled and the streets were covered entirely in shadows. No, the woman couldn't have been his mother. The pictures looked alike, but not exactly alike. Besides, it was only his imagination wanting there to be a connection.

If only he'd never met Luke, never seen the picture and felt that strange feeling, that somehow he'd seen the woman before. He had enough on his mind-endorsements and appearances and movie offers and romance-without the mind-boggling idea that maybe, just maybe, he'd found his birth mother.

Dayne made it back to his apartment without incident. He put thoughts of the sick Baxter woman out of his mind and changed for the dinner dance. It was time to party, time to celebrate the hard work he'd put into the film.

He was talking with one of the sound guys in the buffet line at the party when he felt someone breathe into his ear. He turned and Sarah Whitley was standing next to him. She wore a slinky white tank top and tight black jeans. On the set she'd played a plain girl from a small town, but here that image was gone completely. She was stunning, and Dayne felt himself react to her presence.

"Hey... look at you."

She dropped her chin an inch or so and batted her eyelashes at him. 'I was just thinking the same thing." She let her gaze move slowly down the length of him and back up to his eyes. "Be my date?"

He gave her an easy smile. "You mean i might be so lucky'?"

265.

kingsb u ry s m alley Her arm slipped around his waist and she snuggled close to him. "Definitely.'

They shared dinner and laughter and two large bottles of Dom Perignon, and when they left in his limo sometime after midnight, Dayne had no doubt how the night would turn out. The entire location shoot had been like one giant session of foreplay. A little flirting, intentional eye contacL casual touching and hugging and tickling. And of course the kiss. Though he'd messed it up they'd found a dozen times to practice, times when he would step into her trailer, catch her from behind, and give her a lip-lock that took her breath away.

Then earlier today when she'd kissed him in front of the entire cast.., yes, he knew where the night was headed.

Sarah helped him into his apartment, both of them stumbling and laughing and feeling the effects of the champagne. By the time they reached his bedroom, most of their clothes were strewn along the hallway.

When he opened his eyes in the morning, his head was pounding and Sarah was sitting dressed in the chair beside the bed. "Hey," she said.

'Hey." He rubbed his face and moaned. "What a night, huh?" Weah." She smiled, but he couldn't read her eyes.

He hated this part of his lifestyle. She was a beautiful movie star, a girl any guy would love to chat with for an hour, let alone share the night with. The drinking and partying and getting together parts were always easy, but this.., this awkward morningaftcr feeling was always uncomfortable.

Questions hung in the ar between them.

()kay,, so they'd slept together. Did that mean they were an item now? committed o each other somehow? ready to move m together? And because of their celebrity status, there were other issues. Had anyone from the media seen them together after the party, photographed them in the limo, or watched them head up to his apartment?

266.

R E U N I Q N.

If so, it would be on the covers of the tabloids within the month.

Sarah pursed her lips and drew in a long breath. "I guess we got kinda crazy last night, huh?"

"Yep." He sat up in bed. Last night he hadn't cared a bit for modesty, but now he felt uncomfortable without a shirt on. He adjusted the sheets and rested his arms on his knees. "You okay?"

"Sure." She gave a thoughtful nod. Her smile didn't quite make it to her eyes.

"Dayne, I need to tell you something."

"Okay." His heart thudded harder than before. What was this? Surely she was on some sort of birth control. "What's up?"

"I liked working with you." She uttered a sad laugh and looked at the ceiling.

When she met his gaze again, she shook her head. "It was great, really. But..."

A short breath crossed her lips. "What I'm trying to say is, I've got a guy back in Hollywood. A director. We're sort of" she moved her hand about in the air-"sort of exclusive."

"Oh." A strange mix of rejection and relief washed over Dayne. Relief because the news could've been worse. She could've told him she hadn't used birth control, or that she had some sort of disease. But rejection because what? She was exclusive with someone? So why was she climbing out of his bed this morning?

"Don't be mad, okay?" She wrinkled her nose, looking irresistible despite the hard night. "I like you a lot, Dayne. It's just . . the guy I'm seeing wants a family someday and, well..."

He understood. A bitter laugh worked its way through his chest. "I'm a playboy, right?"

"Kind of." She shrugged daintily. "Lots of fun for a few nights or a few months, but not much of a family guy."

Dayne wanted to point out that if she could enjoy his bed for a night, she probably wasn't much of a family girl herself. But he didn't. Instead he cocked his head and gave her a mock salute. "Glad to be of service. Anytime I can bring a little entertainment to an otherwise boring night."

267.

kingsbu ry smalley Sarah's cheeks reddened and she looked at the floor for a few' beats. "Hey." She looked up, her eyes filled with concern. "Don't say anything about last night, huh? My guy wouldn't understand."

Her guy? Dayne wasn't sure whether to laugh out loud or tell her to leave. In the end he decided on the latter. He pretended to zip his lips together. "It's our secret." He nodded his chin toward the door. "Go ahead, Sarah, but use the back door. I'll stay another few hours so no one thinks anything."

Her expression softened. She stood, kissed him on the cheek, and tousled his hair. "You're a good sport, Dayne." The corners of her lips lifted, and she winked at him. "Last night was awesome."

She was gone before he had time to sort through his feelings. Last night was awesome, but see ya later? What had she said? The guy she was exclusive with was more of a family type? And guys like Dayne were better for a night or a few months? Was that really what people thought of him?

He slid back beneath the covers and stared out the window. Ten years of Hollywood living flashed at him in as many minutes. Leading lady after leading lady, he'd gotten together with them and walked away when the thrill wore off.

If that was his reputation-and it obviously was-then he'd done everything in his power to earn it.

His frustration at Sarah passed.

She had her own issues, certainly; otherwise she wouldn't have come home with him. But he couldn't be angry with her. Her thoughts about him were right. In a sense what she was telling him was "hey, thanks for the fun night, but a season of wild living is just a little too much for me."

She didn't want a playboy; she wanted a family guy.

The wordJmnily filled his mind and took up every bit of his consciousness.

Family. A mom and dad, brothers and sisters. Wasn't that what he'd always been missing? A family to call his own?

268.

A memory began to form. He was sixteen, a sophomore at the Indonesian boarding school while his parents were on the mission field. A girl in his math class asked him how long until he'd see his parents again.

"Three months, maybe four," he'd told her. "Don't you hate it?" She tipped her head, pensive. "Hate what?"

"Not having a family." She leaned forward on her forearms. 'At leasl most of us have brothers and sisters, but you.., you're always alone." A sad look flashed in her eyes. "I'd be mad at my parents if they did that to me, you know, made me an only child and then stayed away so much."

The memory lifted.

Even as a kid Dayne hadn't been a family guy. He didn't have the first idea how to be one. No wonder he hadn't stayed with anyone longer than a few months. He'd been alone, independent, as far back as he could remember.

He rolled onto his side and stared at the photo on his dresser, the only photo he kept visible anywhere in his apartment. It was a picture of his parents, dressed in khaki pants and tops, surrounded by village people, somewhere deep in the outback areas of Indonesia.

How come he hadn't remembered that he'd been adopted? In the back of his mind he'd always known, hadn't he? After his mother had shown him the picture of the woman who birthed him, the truth was out. He hadn't belonged to his parents from the beginning.

But somehow in his little-boy heart he hadn't wanted to believe anything but what was comfortable. His parents were his parents. Period. Never mind about some strange picture of a woman who had given birth to him. Not once until he went to the storage unit had he thought of her as his birth mother.

He studied the faces of the village people surrounding his parents. the people in the mission field were more family to his parents than he had been. His parents lived with those people, cared 269.

kingsbu ry smalley for those people, prayed for those people. All while he lived at the boarding school year after year after year.

Maybe he did have a right to be mad at them.

The picture of Luke Baxter's mother came to mind. What if by' some strange, bizarre coincidence she really was his birth mother? If so, then the pictures that covered Luke's desk were pictures that could've been his own, pictures that would've lined his dresser even now.

The thought exploded in his mind, tearing at his lifelong belief that he hadn't missed out on anything by not having a real family. Of course he'd missed out.

Sarah's words came back to him: "Not much of a family guy..." Unless maybe he did have a family somewhere. If not Luke Baxter's mother, then someone else.

Whoever she was, she'd be in her midfifties now, something like that. According to the papers in the box, the adoption had been closed. She might're tried to find him and been unable to. Or maybe she was looking even now.

Maybe fate had brought him into Luke Baxter's office that day, so that he'd be driven to the storage unit. Otherwise he never would've faced the fact that he had a birth mother or that maybe she was someone he wanted to find.

Dayne sat up in bed and stared at the telephone on the nightstand. Maybe if he found his birth mother, he would find a family at the same time. Then he might have a reason to give up his independence, settle down with a girl who had no ties to Hollywood whatsoever.

Before he had his mind made up, before he was certain this was something he really wanted to do, he picked up the phone and dialed his agent. "I need the number of a private investigator, someone I can trust."

His agent hesitated. "DayneT "Yeah, sorry." He leaned back against the headboard. The clock on his dresser read nine-thirty. "It's a little early."

270.

REUNION.

'Right." Concern rang in the man's tone. "Why do you need a PI, Dayne. You can't afford to be in trouble, not now."

"No trouble." Dayne wondered how much he should say. Nothing, probably. If he did find his birth mother, the last thing either of them needed was publicity.

He drummed his fingers on his thigh. But if he couldn't trust his agent, whom could he trust? "So what is it, Dayne? Be straight with me."

"Listen-" he pursed his lips and blew out-"I was adopted, man. i guess in the back of my mind I always knew, but last time I was in L.A. I did a little research. Found some papers my parents kept."

"Okay." His agent sounded relieved. "So why the PI?"

There was no turning back now. He closed his eyes and worked his fingers into his brow. "I wanna find my birth mother. It's important to me."

A silence followed. '+Look, Dayne, I'm not sure that's a good idea."

'Why?" Dayne leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

"Because you're Dayne Matthews. That means whatever woman gave you up for adoption has no idea her biological child is a famous multimillionaire."

Dayne tried to make sense of his agent's argument. Then, gradually, a light began to dawn. "'You mean she might want money?"

She might want a lot of things. Fame, a slot on the nighttime talk shows." He made a sound that expressed his frustration. "What if she's a drug addict or locked away in some insane asylum? That would look good, wouldn't it?"

Dayne hesitated. His next words came slowly, laden with emotion. "What if she's got a beautiful family and all she's ever wanted was to meet me."

"Touche." His agent waited, his voice softer than before. "You really, want to find her?"

'Yes." This time when Dayne said it, he had no doubts. If his 271 kingsbury smalley birth mother was alive-and he maybe even had a FAMILY out there-he wanted to know about it. "I want it quiet, though. That's why I need your help."

"You have some papers; is that what you said?"

'A whole box of papers. They're in storage in North Hollywood."

"Okay. Sit tight. I'll make a few calls and see if I can find someone who'll help you."

Dayne showered, got dressed, and made himself some eggs. The whole time he couldn't stop thinking about the chain of events that had led to this moment.

Finally, just before noon, the phone rang. Dayne grabbed it on the first ring.

"Hello?"

"I found someone. The guy works for entertainers, promises complete anonymity.

He's been around, Dayne; he keeps his word."

"Can he find birth mothers?" Dayne's heart pounded so hard he thought it might come through his chest and bounce about on the kitchen floor. "Does he do that?"

"Yes. He's very good. Let me see here..." A rustling sound filled the phone lines. "Yes, adoption is one of his specialties. I put him on retainer for you, and he says he'd like the box of documents as soon as possible."

"Then what? How long will it take?"

"No guarantees, Matthews. All he can do is try."

"Okay." Dayne paced across the kitchen and back again. He thought of his attorney's words yesterday, how Luke Baxter's mother was sick. Of course, she was probably not his birth mother, but still. Whoever she was, he wanted to find her. Now. before another week went by. "But he's good, right? He has a good chance of finding her?"