Sabrina shifted in her seat to better look at Alex’s face. “I bet I could tell you which songs of Kari’s you’ve written.” Without waiting for a reply she said, “Two Hearts Apart; A Long Way to Go; and Dreaming of a Better Place.”

Sabrina had bought Kari’s albums when they came out, hiding them away so neither her mother or Lexi would catch her with them. The albums listed Kari as the composer. Sabrina had listened anyway, checking. She wanted to see if Alex was there too, if he’d left a part of himself there to mingle with the notes and chords. She had recognized him in a few of the songs. It had been like getting an unexpected letter from a long-lost friend.

Alex let out an amazed whistle and stared at her.

“I’m right?” she asked, even though his expression already confirmed it.

“I helped on those songs,” he said. “The only one you missed is “Love, Your Style.” I guess I should be flattered you missed that one, though. I was in a black mood when I wrote it. I’d just been through a bad breakup.”

Sabrina silently reviewed the song, seeing it in a new light. It was filled with pain and cynicism.

She had just exposed her own feelings and was still shaky from the experience. Alex, on the other hand, set his heartbreak to music for the whole world to hear. It was either brave or fanatically entrepreneurial to make money off your own pain that way.

She wondered if he would write a song about her now . . . and what it would say.

Alex leaned back against his seat. She looked at his arms and wondered what he’d done to get so tan. The beach? Golf? It had to be some outdoor activity. He wasn’t the type to use a tanning bed or a spray on.

He regarded her cautiously. “What else do you know about me?”

“That you’re not really that hungry. We don’t seem to be moving very far.”

He looked at the steering wheel as though just noticing it and sat forward in his seat. “Sorry. I was supposed to take you to a restaurant, wasn’t I?”

He took hold of the gear shift, and she chided herself for being flippant, for being too afraid to answer his question honestly—that she still knew everything about him. It had been her secret vice to keep up on him. And why shouldn’t she? She had needed to know those sorts of details for the day when she finally told Lexi about him. It was only for Lexi. Sabrina had fallen out of love with him and moved on long ago. Hadn’t she had her share of boyfriends? It didn’t mean anything that she’d never actually wanted to settle down with any of them. Raising Lexi and finishing her degree had just always taken precedence.

Alex shifted the car into reverse. Sabrina put her hand on his arm before he could pull out of the parking space. She didn’t want to go sit in a restaurant and put the veneer of polite conversation back on again. “You don’t have to take me anywhere. I don’t really want to go out in public. I’m a mess.”

His gaze ran over her. He didn’t shift back to park. “No, you’re not. You look great.”

She tilted her head at him in disbelief. “I’ve just been crying, and I’m wearing my housekeeping uniform.”

“You still look great. I know women who spend all day in the salon trying to look as beautiful as you do—” He broke off suddenly, as though he’d said something wrong, and put the car back into park. “Look, I’m not trying to hit on you or anything.”

“What?” Her mind was still lingering on his comment, and she hadn’t processed the implications of the rest of his sentence.

“I don’t want you to think I’m hitting on you again. I’m not a total jerk. I realize you probably have a boyfriend, and even if you don’t, you spent too much time over the years throwing darts at my pictures to care what I think. I’m just trying to make amends.”

“I never threw darts at your picture. Curses, maybe, but not darts.” She smiled despite herself. He thought she was beautiful. She felt a spiteful sense of happiness that he was complimenting her instead of all those starlets she’d seen with him in tabloids.

He turned toward the backseat of the car. She followed his gaze and saw a pair of small, slender boxes sitting there. One black, one white. He picked up the black one, fingering it nervously. “I’m not . . . I know that . . .” He ran a hand through his dusky-blond hair, apparently at a loss for words.

“What?” she prompted.

“This is probably stupid and I shouldn’t do it, but I feel bad that you and Alexia had to carry around Maribel’s necklace for years. I shouldn’t have stuck you with that memory. I shouldn’t have compared you to her in the first place.” He gave a frustrated grunt. “Even knowing that, I did it again. Two minutes after we climbed into this car, I told you how much you look like her.”

“I never minded that,” Sabrina said, somehow unable to let him feel guilty for that part. She had always liked the fact that she looked like his first wife. Back when she was younger it was one of the things that had convinced her she and Alex belonged together—even God thought so. Otherwise he wouldn’t have formed Sabrina to be exactly Alex Kingsley’s type.

“I know you’re not her,” he said. “I just wanted to tell you thanks for the sacrifices you’ve made to raise Alexia right. That says a lot about you.” He handed the box awkwardly to Sabrina. “Consider each one of those stones an “I’m sorry.” Now I’m only a few thousand apologies short.”

Stones? She took the box from him, stunned. She should feel something at this moment. Maybe gratitude, or perhaps indignation that he thought he could throw money around to win her over. But he seemed so genuinely eager for her to like the gift that she couldn’t refuse it. His genuine nature. That’s what had attracted her to him in the first place, and here it was again, swaying her actions.

She flipped open the box. Snuggled against black velvet was a necklace dripping with rubies. They grew progressively bigger until the center stone, which was a perfect, winking red circle.

She stared at them, entranced.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

She didn’t touch the necklace. “It’s stunning.” It belonged on the neck of an actress. Someone who was off to a posh red-carpet event. Sabrina had no idea when or where she’d ever be able to wear it, which deflated her a little. Alex Kingsley had finally given her a gift meant for her, and she would only be able to stare at it in the box. This necklace belonged to a completely different world than she did.

He must have read apprehension into her gaze. “It’s a purely platonic gift,” he told her. “I’m not hitting on you.”

She glanced up from the box. “You know, I wouldn’t mind if you hit on me a little. ‘Women scorned’ like that sort of thing. It’s vindication.”

He cracked a smile. “Okay, in that case, I’m hitting on you a little, just so you feel vindicated.”

She laughed, checking his gaze to see if there was any truth to his words. His blue eyes met hers and flashed with some emotion. Perhaps earnestness. Perhaps he was testing the waters. Or maybe it was just her imagination. She was, after all, incurably foolish where he was concerned.

He gestured at the box. “If you don’t like it, I can get you something else.”

“No, it’s beautiful.” She ran a finger over the rich red gems. “I’m just not sure where I would wear something this elegant.”

“Ahh,” he said, with a note of understanding. He unclipped the necklace from the box. “You’re in luck. These are all-purpose, dress-up, dress-down rubies. Here, let me show you.” He undid the clasp and reached toward her. She only had time to sweep her hair away from her shoulders before he was leaning over, putting his arms around her while he redid the clasp. She sat stiffly, trying not to react to his sudden nearness. She could smell his aftershave. His fingers brushed against her skin, making her neck tingle.

He’d done this the last time they met too. He had put a necklace on her, and his fingers had lingered, gently caressing the back of her neck and making their way to her shoulders.