Whitney sat up straighter. “She didn’t? What happened?”

“Ashley convinced her personal trainer-Preston Block, the guy who returned Lexi-to take her. They planned to hold her for ransom until-”

“Ransom? How could Ashley possibly think I had any money? Didn’t Ryan tell her the truth about our divorce?”

“I assume he did. They wanted you to sign the property agreement immediately. There was a house Ashley really wanted, and your ex couldn’t qualify for financing unless he could show he owned everything so he could arrange for a new loan.”

“That bastard! How could he take Lexi and scare me like that?”

“Ryan had nothing to do with it. That’s what Block told me, and I believe him. He claimed it was his idea. After our visit, Ryan guessed Ashley knew something and insisted she return the dog.”

“Really?” She studied her hands for a moment. “I guess I underestimated Ryan.” She shifted in her seat, thinking about Ashley and the clothes that had appeared after the fire. “No wonder Ashley brought me clothes. She isn’t the sweet, innocent woman she pretends to be. She felt guilty for taking my dog. Why else would she have given me an expensive dress?”

Adam wasn’t going there. He hadn’t a clue what went on in women’s minds. “I suppose that’s the reason, but who knows?”

“Her reasons don’t matter. Why didn’t you tell me? I don’t get it.”

Again Adam cursed himself. “I should have, but Block was persuasive. He said you wouldn’t believe Ryan wasn’t involved. You’d cause more trouble and Ashley wouldn’t get her house. I liked you a lot-more than a lot. I decided you had your dog and it would be better to close the book on the past.”

Adam waited a few agonizingly long minutes before switching the subject and asking, “What did you tell Trish?”

“Nothing. I could pick up my messages yet I can’t seem to call out. But I intend to take the job.”

“Why? If it’s money-”

“It’s not. I’m starting over. This is the time and the place. I’m going to become a vet. I’ll need to split my time between working at the vet’s and taking classes.”

“You’re saying there’s no time for us?”

“I’m not sure there is an us. You haven’t shared things with me. You should have told me about Lexi. Every time she was out of my sight, I worried. There wasn’t any need. She’s not going to run away because she never did in the first place.”

“Would you feel this way if I’d told you about Lexi and my uncle?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve learned you can’t change the past, but you can do things differently so the future isn’t a replay of the past. I’m not going to have much spare time. When I do, I intend to spend it with Miranda.”

Adam opened his mouth to argue, then decided against it. Maybe a little distance wasn’t such a bad idea. It would give them both time to think. It would also get Whitney away from the house. He was pretty sure the media coverage had made it clear that Miranda had been the object of the firebombing-and she was no longer living there. But it didn’t hurt to be careful.

WHITNEY PICKED UP WHAT few clothes she had and moved to the address that Trish had left on the machine. She and Adam had exchanged less than a dozen sentences-all of them necessary-between Cancún and San Diego. He’d dropped her off at the mansion overlooking the ocean in La Jolla. He’d waited for her to find the hidden key and let herself in before leaving.

Whitney wandered around the home, telling herself that Adam had his pride. He wasn’t going to beg her to stay with him. Part of her wished things were different but another-wiser-part accepted the situation. She’d found her cousin and knew the truth about Lexi. Her life had a new direction now.

Time would tell if she and Adam had a future.

She heard the doorbell ring and knew it was Trish. She’d called her friend to say she was moving in, and Trish said she would meet her at the house to show her how everything worked.

Whitney opened the door and Trish breezed in, a happy smile lighting her face. “Where were you? I almost didn’t tell Ian that you were going to take the house-sitting job. For all I knew you were gone forever.”

Whitney followed her into the great room that overlooked the pool. In the distance the marine blue of the Pacific glittered in the midday sun. “Adam and I got away for a bit.”

Trish arched one finely plucked eyebrow and smiled. Adam and Whitney had agreed not to reveal anything to anyone about their trip to Cancún. No one was to learn Miranda’s whereabouts until this mess was straightened out.

“Sounds like fun,” Trish said with a wink. Whitney half expected the older woman to warn her about treacherous men, but she didn’t. “Ian Finsteter has an impressive collection of art.”

Whitney had wandered through the new home and had noticed a number of paintings and fine sculptures on display. Knowing the owner of the home purchased art from Trish had told Whitney the collection was valuable.

“Ian usually has the alarm on with motion sensors. He left it off until you moved in and I gave you the code.”

“What about Lexi? Won’t she set off the motion sensors?”

Trish shook her head. “Not unless she moves one of the sculptures.”

“Really? The motion sensors are under the pieces?” She glanced over to a postmodern sculpture of a ballerina gracefully pirouetting on one toe.

“Yes. It’s state of the art. The alarm goes into a special security service that only takes extremely wealthy clients. They’ll be here within three minutes if someone moves a piece of art and trips a motion sensor.”

“Lexi won’t touch a thing. I promise.”

“Where is she?”

“With Lyleen, the woman taking over my pets. She’s bringing Lexi here soon.”

Trish opened the sliding glass door that led out to the pool. “I met her. She seems…okay. Brandy’s happy, that’s all that counts.”

Whitney wanted to remind her that Golden retrievers were easy to please and thought everyone was their friend. That was why Lexi had gone off with Ashley’s personal trainer. But she didn’t open her mouth. Why alienate Trish when she’d gone out of her way to help her?

“Isn’t this fabulous?” Trish waved her arm to indicate the pool. Off to the side was a large polished black rock precariously balanced on a much smaller rock. “Don’t touch Obsidian I. It’s a priceless sculpture by Diego Rameriz, the Spanish sculptor who died recently.”

“Is it protected by a motion sensor?”

“Of course.” Trish led her closer until Whitney could see her own distorted reflection on the glossy-black surface of the sculpture.

“I better keep Lexi away from this.”

Trish patted the rock. “She’d have to jump on it to trigger the alarm. The sensors are designed to stop thieves from stealing the art. They’re not so sensitive that a maid dusting them will cause a problem. You would need to knock this off its base to activate the alarm. Lexi doesn’t strike me as the type of dog to cause problems. That’s what I told Ian when I explained this fabulous house-sitter came with a dog.”

“Thanks. We’ll both be very careful.”

They went through the magnificent home and Trish showed her what needed to be taken care of and how to do it. Whitney explained why she’d decided to work for the vet even though Trish hadn’t inquired, which seemed odd.

“Smart move,” Trish told her when Whitney finished. “I was in my later thirties before I opened my gallery and found my calling.”

Whitney could have reminded Trish that she’d had a wealthy family backing her, but she didn’t. Despite having money Trish had suffered a lot.

“What are you doing for a car?” Trish asked.

“Tomorrow I’m contacting the insurance company to see what they can do.”

“You’re welcome to use Ravissant’s minivan. I won’t need it for a few days.”

“That’s great. I really appreciate it.”