Mitch Gallagher is a loner, down to the bone. Banished at sixteen from everything and everyone he held dear, he's an intensely private man whose rusty, unused heart long ago gave up on love.

Fragile Perry Matheson is on the run to protect her beloved son. Experience has taught her to trust no one, to lean only on herself, but too ill to travel and a winter storm on the way, Perrie has no choice but to gamble her child's safety on a man who wants only to be left alone.

During long days spent together in the mountain cabin, Mitch and Perrie each find surprises in store—and all the reasons they should stay apart battle with the yearnings of hearts too long denied love.

Rising Star 2000 Award

Romantic Times Reviewers' Choice Award Finalist

Crisp writing, richly drawn characters, strong plotting and fiery interludes show off Jean Brashear's top-notch romantic voice. --Romantic Times (4 1/2 stars)

This is a story for all romantics. Ms. Brashear has done what she does best, and makes her readers fall in love with two more wonderful characters.--America Online

Deliciously sensual...sure to take the reader's breath away...May all women have a lover as gifted as Mitch: he is a 6 star lover on a 5 star scale. YUMMY! Ms.Brashear has created a special family trilogy that readers will hail as classic series romance...strong dark heroes who linger with the romance reader long after the last page...Ms. Brashear has joined the ranks of talented authors like Linda Howard and Megan Chance who create dark heroes able to find the light; a light found only in their lover's eyes.--Compuserve

Perrie jerked awake from the nightmare, heart beating a fandango. She rubbed a slow circle on her chest and breathed deeply, staring into the darkness, listening. When she heard Davey's even breathing from the cot nearby, she relaxed a little, but she knew sleep would be elusive.

She tightened the belt of her robe and slipped through the door into the main room, headed for the firelight's glow. A few steps into the room, she stopped dead in her tracks. Stretched out on the floor in front of the dying fire, Mitch lay sound asleep.

Perrie approached with slow, careful steps. She'd never seen him like this, hard features softened in slumber. He looked younger, less careworn. The fierce eagle eyes closed, his frame still conveyed power and strength, but the man before her seemed almost vulnerable.

She'd never met anyone so alone. Her grandfather had spent much of his life in these mountains by himself, his solitude punctuated by stints as a hunting and fishing guide. Grandpa had been alone, but never lonely. Solitude was very much a part of who he was, intertwined almost at a cellular level with his sense of humor, his love of the wilderness, his blue eyes.

Something about Mitch was different. It was almost as if solitude were not a choice but a defense. He didn't know what his brother looked like. What was his story? Where was his family? Had he known gentleness in his life or only sorrow?

Sorrow. That was it. Beneath the power, beneath the fierce determination, the harsh strength, Perrie sensed a deep well of sorrow in this man. Why? What had happened? What had he suffered that made him so fiercely protective of his shell, so rigidly controlled? But Davey breached those high walls. Something in the boy touched the man and mined the goodness his manner hid.

He wasn't accustomed to children and his methods might not be found in any parenting book, but he had been good to a child thrust upon him by circumstance. Had taken care of a child not his own, had not punished the child for the mother's believed sins. He did not want her here, could not wait for her to leave. But he had still granted her more kindness in a few days than she had had from Simon in years.

Perrie's mind whirled, trying to sort out the best path. This cabin had been her lodestone, her guiding star for so long that she'd never considered what to do next, where she might go. She would die before she let Simon take her child. He might have the deck stacked with his family's connections and wealth, but somehow she would elude him. Somehow she would win.

You can't prove anything, Perrie. And who would believe you over me? Don't even try—not unless you want to lose the boy forever. With effort, she shoved Simon's words away. She had to think, not panic. She had little money left and her strength was not yet returned. For a time longer, she had to tiptoe through the days and pray that Mitch would not make them leave. She did not know enough about him to tell him her story yet.

Perrie rubbed her arms against the chill. Tending the dying fire would wake him. She spotted an old quilt folded on top of a chest. Tiptoeing quietly, she retrieved it and moved to Mitch's side.

Holding her breath, she covered the sleeping man.

I promise I won't involve you any more than I must, to save my son.