Wildest Hearts

know what I've already done because of your sister. You don't know how many changes she's made in my life. You don't know how much she's interfered in family matters that were none of her business.”

    “I know Annie. If she interfered, she was only trying to help. She's good at that kind of thing.”

    “And that brings up another point,” Oliver growled. “I won't join her tribe of wounded males. I don't need rescuing, damn it.”

    “So that's it,” Daniel said very softly. “You've heard about Arthur Quigley and Melvin Finch?”

    “Yes.”

    “There are a couple more like them scattered around the countryside.”

    “Damn.”

    “But they're not anything like you, Oliver. It's true Annie rescued them, but none of them ever returned the favor.”

    Oliver frowned. “What's that supposed to mean?”

    “You, Rain, have the distinction of being the only man who's ever rescued Annie. You saved Lyncroft for her and three nights ago you saved her life in that greenhouse. In her eyes you're a hero, not another wounded bird like Quigley and Finch.”

    “She's not exactly acting the part of the grateful damsel.”

    “What can I tell you? Annie's unique. And she's got her pride, too. You, of all people, should understand pride, Rain.”

    “This is a waste of time.” Oliver stalked to the door. “I don't know why I came here to talk to you about your sister.”

    “Oliver?”

    “What?” Oliver opened the door.

    Daniel met his eyes. “Thanks again. For everything.”

    “Forget it.” Oliver started through the door. He paused briefly and glanced back again. “By the way, your files on employees, competitors, and investors are almost totally worthless. I couldn't find any of the information I needed in them.”

    Daniel grinned. “I keep files, Oliver, not security dossiers the way you used to do.”

    Oliver did not bother to respond to that.

    Oliver walked the streets of Seattle aimlessly for over an hour. He bought coffee at a sidewalk espresso stand, watched the ferries depart from the waterfront docks, and wandered through Pioneer Square.

    The lack of focused direction felt very strange. Oliver could not recall the last time he had done anything without a clear-cut purpose. He always had a goal and he was always focused on that goal.

    When he finally came to a halt, he saw that he was standing in front of Wildest Dreams.

    Obviously part of him had known all along where he was headed.

    He felt like an idiot standing on the sidewalk outside the shop. The feeling of indecisiveness infuriated him. He was never indecisive.

    The door of the shop opened. A thin, wiry man wearing a navy blue sweater over a pair of corduroy slacks nearly collided with Oliver. The man stopped and peered up at him through horn-rim glasses.

    “Sorry,” the man said.

    Oliver shrugged, his gaze on the shop window. “Forget it.”

    “I know you.” The man drew himself up so that he stood a little taller. “You're Rain, aren't you? Annie's husband.”

    Oliver glanced at him. “What of it?”

    “I'm Arthur Quigley.”

    Oliver looked back at the window. “Is that right?”

    “Right. I'm the one who gave Annie the book she said you needed,” Arthur explained helpfully. “Sorry it didn't help.”

    Oliver took a firm grasp on his precarious temper. “Did Annie tell you that it didn't help?”

    “Not in so many words, but I've just been talking to her and she tells me that she's left you, so I have to assume things didn't work out.” Arthur frowned in concern. “Say, would you like to try another book? I've got quite a good selection.”

    “No, thank you.”

    “It's nothing to be ashamed of you know,” Arthur said in a confidential tone. “We men aren't born knowing how to be great lovers. It's a learned skill, just like everything else.”

    “I'll keep that in mind,” Oliver muttered.

    “Sure. Let me know if you'd like to try another book.” Arthur smiled. “Guess you're here to see Annie, huh?”

    “Maybe.”

    Arthur nodded, apparently satisfied. “It's about time. She's been eating her heart out over you. I'm glad you came to your senses.”

    Oliver stepped around Quigley, opened the door of Wildest Dreams, and walked inside. Ella looked up from behind the counter. She scowled at him.

    “What do you want?”

    “I came to see my wife,” Oliver said, laying plenty of emphasis on the last word.

    “She's got visitors.”

    “Too bad.” He went past her to open the door