“I’m not hungry.” She looked out the window at the river again. “Atlanta has so many creeks and rivers. I worried about them after Bonnie was taken. I thought what if she wandered away and slipped off a bank and— But then I worried about everything. You never realize how many dangers there are in the world until you have a child.” She leaned back as the waiter came and set their salads in front of them. “Growing up, I was totally fearless about anything happening to me. I thought I was immortal—like all kids. Then I had Bonnie, and I found out a pinprick could cause tetanus, a tiny germ could give her pneumonia. So many things to fear…”

“Stop looking at your salad and eat it.” Joe picked up his own fork. “And I don’t believe you were the kind of mother to hover over her child. You probably made sure that she enjoyed life.”

She smiled and nodded. “That was easy. She loved every single minute of the day.” Her smile faded. “Past tense. I keep falling into that trap. I mustn’t do that.”

No, ease her away from it. “You were sixteen when you had her?”

“Yes.” She picked up her fork and began to eat. “You know all that from the reports. She’s illegitimate, but I made sure she didn’t miss having a father.”

“I’m sure you did. But you must have missed the emotional support yourself.”

“Why? I had Bonnie, I didn’t need anyone else.” She shrugged. “Stop thinking of me as some heartbroken victim. Sex was the only thing that bound me to Bonnie’s father. I made a mistake. Our time together happened like a lightning flash, then it was gone. But I had my daughter and that was all that mattered.” A luminous smile suddenly lit her face. “Anyone who has never had a child like Bonnie is the victim, not me.”

“I can see that.” He had been watching with fascination the play of expressions that flitted across her face. Every now and then he could capture the Eve she had been before she had been forced to face the horror that now dominated her life. “It just surprised me that it happened when you were so young.”

“It surprised me, too. I assure you I wasn’t prepared to be a mother. All I wanted to do was get out of the projects and build a decent life for myself.”

“But you decided to keep her.”

“She was mine,” she said simply. “I couldn’t give her up. You’d understand if you had a child.” She tilted her head. “Or do you?”

He chuckled. “You mean you don’t know? Rick Donald must have slipped up.”

“He said you weren’t married, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have a child.” She finished her salad and put down her fork. “I can’t tell you how many unwed mothers lived in the projects where I grew up. Men don’t have a great sense of responsibility where their children are concerned.”

“I’d take care of my own.” He smiled faintly. “And, no, I don’t have any kids. I’ve been too busy to make that kind of commitment. And for me, it would be a commitment. I know what it’s like to feel like an orphan.”

“Oh, yes, your parents are dead. Were you very young?”

“No, it was after I went into the service. A yachting accident. Just the way they would have liked it.”

“Weren’t you a little old to feel like an orphan? I was feeling sorry for you. I don’t know why. You have as much money as Richie Rich.”

“Richie Rich? He was a comic book character, wasn’t he? Lord, I admit I haven’t had anyone compare me to him.”

“Bonnie liked those comic books. She thought all the gadgets and toys Richie owned sounded fun.”

“I’m surprised you encouraged such blatant materialism.”

“Why not? It was a world full of fun and adventure. Bonnie never wanted to own any of the toys. She just liked to learn about them.” She smiled. “And they were so outrageous that I doubt even you owned anything like them. Did you?”

“I received a few fairly ‘outrageous’ gifts from my parents from time to time. Usually, they were sent as a substitute for some trip they’d promised me. Or when I’d been unusually good for a time and not gotten tossed out of the current school of choice where they’d sent me.” He grimaced. “That didn’t happen often.”

“You weren’t a good boy?”

“I was a bastard,” he said flatly. “My parents didn’t care as long as I didn’t get in their way. I did that a lot. I was willful and reckless and willing to fight to get what I wanted. It was no wonder that I wasn’t welcome in their orderly lives. My father was a stockbroker and my mother was a socialite who did nothing but look pretty and act as my father’s hostess, companion, and mistress. They lived smooth, pleasant lives, parties and trips to the Hamptons, journeys on my father’s yacht. That’s all they wanted, and I disturbed the flow.” He lifted his shoulders in a half shrug. “So most of the time, when I wasn’t being a son of a bitch, I just stayed away from them. It was better for both of us.”

“I can see that it might be. Poor little rich boy.”

He chuckled. “Are you mocking me?”

“Yes.” She met his gaze. “Because whatever hurt you, you’ve managed to put it behind you. You can take a little mockery now, can’t you? I feel sorry for the boy whose parents didn’t want him, but I’m familiar with a lot of those kinds of stories. Most of them didn’t include the soothing clink of coins to ease the pain. Sorry if you think that I’m not suitably sympathetic.”

“But you’re trying to be honest.”

She nodded. “I think you were as tough a person then as you are now. We’re alike in that. We’ve both learned to look ahead, not behind us.”

“And you’re not impressed by my wicked past?”

“Not as a kid. You’ll have to do better than that.” She frowned. “If you were kicked out of all those schools, how did you get into Harvard?”

“I cheated?” He shook his head. “No, I’m too damn smart. Things are easy for me. That’s why I was so frustrating for everyone. My parents swore I’d never get into Harvard, so I set out to do it. And I made it through.”

“Brilliantly?”

“Of course, it wouldn’t have given me any satisfaction if I hadn’t done it well.” He waited for the waiter to change out their salads for the sandwich plates. “My parents wanted me to go into politics. They thought a senator would be a nice addition to their circle. I took a look at Congress and decided that I’d probably be a zombie by the time I was thirty. So I joined the SEALs instead.”

“From what I’ve heard, they definitely don’t develop zombies.”

“No, I’ve never felt more alive in my life. They made me into the quintessential warrior, with all the skills and opportunities for battle. I’d found my niche in life.”

“Then why did you get out?”

“I liked it too much,” he said simply. “And I was too good at it. At first, I considered myself a patriot, and that was okay. Then there comes a point when you know you’re coming too close to the line between fighting for a reason and doing battle for the sheer heady love it. If you don’t stop before you cross that line, then you become what you’re fighting. I was tottering on the brink because I knew I was good enough to let loose all that violence and skill and probably never have to account to anyone. It was a hard decision for me to make.”

She studied him. “I can understand how it would be.”

Yes, she could sense that streak of wildness and violence in him, and he wouldn’t try to hide it from her. She wasn’t afraid of those qualities in him. If she was, then he’d have to handle that as it came to the forefront. He wasn’t going to lie to her about that side of his character. He hated deceit, and he was having to practice too much of it with her.

“Why the FBI?” she asked.

“It offered a certain amount of action, the technology interested me. I’d always been good at search and destroy. I’m insatiably curious, and I liked puzzles.” He nodded at the waiter, who was filling their coffee cups. “And it forced me to be the good guy.” He smiled. “You wanted frankness. Did I give you too much?”