Have you ever been fishing from a drift boat? Well, I have. As much as I enjoy the time spent with my husband out in the quiet beauty of nature, my mind tends to wander. So as we were floating slowly down Oregon’s gorgeous McKenzie River, taking in the occasional large, undoubtedly expensive homes on one side of the river and the not-so-expensive trailers hugging the steep riverbank on the other side, my romance writer brain posed the proverbial writerly question, "What if…"

And the story of Millionaire Harrison Rivers, barely-scrapping-by Juliet Jones, and the baby they made together when they’d both thought they’d just made a bit of heaven that wasn’t supposed to last was born.

I also discovered that it is possible for a rainbow trout to actually drown if it is hooked and dragged behind a boat too long. Amazing.

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PROLOGUE

Juliet Jones pulled in a soothing breath of warm, early-June air and leaned back in the lone wooden chair on the balcony above her family's store. After another long, boring day spent waiting behind the cash register for the rare customer to wander in, she ached clear to her bones. With a weary sigh, she slipped off her worn Keds and propped her bare feet on the peeling white railing.

She settled the cold beer bottle on the front of her frayed jeans shorts, closed her eyes and wished for the millionth time she hadn't promised Grandpa before he died that she would keep his store going. But she'd promised, so here she was watching her life slip away like the waters of Oregon's McKenzie River running steady and silent on the other side of the two-lane highway their little store hugged.

She was just twenty-one, but she felt as old as dirt.

If only Richard Gere would drive up in his Lamborghini looking just for her.

The deep growl of a motorcycle shifting down interrupted her snort at the ridiculous thought, and the sound of gravel crunching under wheels brought her eyes open. One look at the man leaning low over the green racing motorcycle as he pulled up to the store's rusting gas pump and she was a goner.

He could have a face like a butt under that black helmet and she wouldn't have cared. He looked like some mysterious warrior to her starved imagination--his black leather bomber jacket, faded blue Levi's, and trashed black cowboy boots his armor.

Juliet couldn't tell if he was looking up at her or not, so she kept staring when she would have normally looked away. She watched him settle both feet flat on the ground, turn the engine off, then reach up and flip his tinted visor up. She nearly jumped out of her skin. He was looking straight at her with beautiful, soulful eyes beneath full, dark-blond brows.

His gaze was as powerful as one of Shakespeare's love sonnets to her lonely heart.

He pulled the helmet from his head.

Juliet gaped and yanked her feet from the rail, starting a paint-chip blizzard. He was the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen. A dream come true, in fact. His straight nose and square jaw, roughened by dark-blond whiskers, held such masculine beauty she was too stunned-stupid to quit staring at him. What was a man like him doing in her world?

His gaze still on her, he hung his helmet on one of the handlebars and ran a hand through his thick, wavy, golden hair that brushed the top of his collar in the back. "Does this pump work?" he called up in a deep voice that hit her like gravel wrapped in velvet and turned her bones to liquid.

With a weak shake of her head, she croaked, "No." Clearing her throat, she needlessly added, "Though there's probably enough gas still down there to one day blow us all to kingdom come."

His smile was lopsided and unmercifully sexy. "Then you better hop on and let me take you far away from here," he offered, patting the back of his bike.

She laughed in an idiotic, high-pitched way. Man, she'd never made that noise before. Her face heated, and she wished she could disappear. So much for this fantasy coming true. The Adonis on the bike sure as heck wouldn't want to mess with a bubblehead on a balcony.

But instead of slapping on his helmet and roaring away, he lowered the kickstand with the heel of his boot and swung a long, thickly muscled leg over the bike and got off. "Well, if I can't top off my tank and you won't let me whisk you to safety, can I buy myself a beer inside and join you up there? I'm sure the view is something I wouldn't want to miss."

The suggestiveness of his tone and his masculine magnetic pull flustered her so much she started to ramble. "We haven't been allowed to sell beer since that incident with those darn thirteen-year-olds a couple years back. And as far as the view goes, the blackberry bushes and ash trees on the other side of the road have grown so much you can hardly see the river anymore."

He grinned up at her, and she actually felt the earth moving. But instead of making her feel wild and out of control, her heart rate slowed and everything became crystal clear. For once she knew exactly what she wanted. For once she was willing to take a risk.

She leaned forward in the chair and rested her elbows on her bare knees, with the neck of the full beer bottle caught between her fingers. Looking at him through the crooked railing, she said, "I can't sell you a beer, but you're welcome to share mine."

An intense, almost desperate look replaced his grin. "How do I get up there?"

She shook her head, sending her long, sun-streaked brown hair slipping off her shoulders. The peace of certainty made her feel powerful. "I'll come down."

"Good. Because in case you haven't noticed, that balcony has a definite lean to it. I'm not sure it's any safer than the gas pump."

This time she laughed for real. "I know. But it's my balcony." Thinking of her older brother's homemade racing motorcycle, she grinned and added, "Hey, if you like bikes, there's something you've got to see out back in the shed." As she rose from the chair, Juliet fought to control the surge of excitement pumping through her veins.

For the first time in her life she might actually get what she wanted.

CHAPTER ONE
OVER TWO YEARS LATER...

It was her.

Surprise brought Harrison Rivers to a halt in the little store's doorway so fast the rickety screen hit his backside.

Before he could stop himself, he blurted, "You're here."

He hadn't really expected her to still be here. Especially when he'd failed to see the soles of two sexy bare feet propped on the balcony's sorry railing when he'd arrived.

Her beautiful, brown-and-gold eyes wide, she opened and closed her mouth twice before breathily answering, "I'm always here."

"I didn't think you would be."

If anyone had asked him why he was there on this sunny September afternoon he would have claimed to have stopped for gum, but he had really made the thirty minute drive up to the little, nameless store on a backwoods Oregon highway for the first time in two years, two months and twenty-eight days to banish her from his thoughts. He'd hoped to find closure even in her absence before returning to his family estate in the nearest town, Plainview.

She ran a hand up and down her jeans-clad hip, drawing his gaze to her sexy, lean curves. "Why did you think that?"

Since he'd come back to forget her, getting turned on by her was the last thing he wanted. He forced his gaze to her face, though on his way up he couldn't keep from noticing that her breasts under her plain white T-shirt looked fuller than he remembered.
He cleared his throat. "I just assumed you'd headed off for Eugene and college. Maybe even got married." A treasure like her didn't stay buried long.

Yet here he was, staring into the same beautiful brown-and-gold eyes. They still reminded him of sunflowers lying on rich, moist earth. And he remembered too well how he'd thought at the time: Now, maybe that's all I really want out of life--a beautiful, barefoot girl in cutoff jeans, the summer sun glinting off her honey-brown hair as she sips a beer and meditates life, the river her mantra.

That day when she'd invited him to share her drink and her peace, he'd found himself taking more. God, how he'd needed the comfort she'd unwittingly given him. That had been so unlike him, so irresponsible, yet so right.

The wildness that had made him sample her full, luscious lips more than two years ago erupted within him like a long-dormant volcano. She was still as desirable. More so, with time adding fullness to her figure and maturity to her finely shaped face. And she was still barefoot.

Her earthy sensuality ratcheted his temperature up a few degrees.

She stepped toward him. "I didn't do any of those things. I've been here--" She stopped herself, but the word waiting hung between them.

Harrison met her hopeful gaze.

Damn it. He was no Prince Charming come to rescue the beautiful girl from the cinders or the glass coffin or whatever. Far from it. There was no place in his life for fairy tales.

He lowered his chin and willed her with his gaze to understand that he was doing the best thing for both of them. "I'd really hoped you had gone off to college or gotten married."

The glow in her eyes faded and the small smile curving her full lips fell. He'd made his point.

He suddenly became very aware of his Italian loafers. The reminder of how different his existence was from her barefooted freedom hit him like a bucket of ice. Before he'd said goodbye to her over two years ago, the realities of his world had forced him to acknowledge that their day together could be no more than his favorite memory.

He'd told himself it was because they were too different, having come from very opposite worlds. And he'd since vowed to never care about someone so much he lost control of his emotions.

This trip up here had been to remind him of that so he could stop thinking about her. He was determined to focus entirely on the multimillion-dollar corporation he was about to take over from his father. The company Harrison's grandfather had started and bequeathed to him as his legacy. The legacy Harrison had worked so hard to earn.

Enough eyebrows were raising on the company's board of directors as it was. His father's decision to make Harrison CEO at the ripe age of thirty-two hadn't gone over well. Even if he could control his emotions around her, Harrison wouldn't allow his judgment to come into question by becoming involved with a woman from such a different background as his. As it was, pulling teeth was easier than getting the board to see reason and agree to his plan to purchase, shut down, then overhaul the Dover Creek Mill.

Harrison had no choice but to snuff out the shining hope in her expression.

Sometimes he really hated reality.

But he had to face the truth. With his father's retirement less than a month away, Two Rivers Industries required Harrison's undivided attention. He needed to be in total control of himself to have total control of the company. And he wasn't in control, with memories of that one time with this woman plaguing him, distracting him from what he'd been born to do--run Two Rivers Industries.

It had been a mistake to come back. The way she still pulled at him confirmed it wasn't just their differences that should have kept him away. He should leave. Nothing, after all, had changed. As he pushed open the screen door, strange regret flooded him and he hesitated. How did one say goodbye to a memory?

Before he could decide, he caught the flash of something coming at him from the side the second before it hit him in the knees. "Whoa." He looked down and saw an overalls-clad, towheaded toddler wedged between his legs. He smiled and put his big hand lightly on the little head, flattening down the riot of crazy baby hair. "Well, hello, there."

The face that tilted to look at him made his breath stick in his throat. The dark green eyes warily regarding him made his heart skip a beat. The child's face seemed vaguely familiar.

The little boy stepped back, intent on making a break for the still-open door, but the sight of his red licorice rope firmly stuck to the knee of Harrison's olive-colored slacks stopped him cold and made Harrison laugh out loud.

The sound brought those solemn green eyes back up to his, and he was treated to the most cherubic smile he'd ever seen. He bent and removed the sticky candy from his pant leg, then crouched down and offered the rope to the equally sticky baby.

The little fellow snatched his candy and ran for the safety of the legs belonging to the woman Harrison had been haunted by since he'd found that moment of peace in her arms.

His heart slammed to a stop and his gaze met and held hers as she hoisted the little boy onto her hip. She hugged the child to her like a mother.

Harrison pulled in a sharp breath when he realized where he'd seen that baby's face before. Every morning he walked by a framed photo of a shockingly similar face that sat on top of his grandmother's piano.

The picture of himself as a baby.

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