Pediatrician Dr. Dave Westfield has spent the last eight years, since the car wreck that changed the course of his life, buried in his work. He spends his days at the clinic, and his evenings volunteering at a teen crisis center...hoping to save just one.

When their worlds collide, the attraction is instant...and dangerous.

"We really must stop meeting like this."

With a yelp, she shot up to a sitting position and stared up at the man of her fantasies. Oh my. The chest she'd just been thinking about touching was covered in a snug, dark blue T-shirt. His hips and thighs were perfectly encased in worn, faded jeans.

She gulped.

Dave gave a sheepish smile and shrugged. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

How could one woman make him feel so foolish? Like a green kid panting after his first crush. What the hell was she doing here in Caleb's cemetery, today of all days?

As he'd turned to leave Rebecca's grave, he'd seen this long, voluptuous blonde under the tree and, for just a second, thought it might be Molly. He'd figured he was imagining things, but something drew him over. Sure enough, there she lay, eyes closed, a gentle smile on her full, pink lips.

His body had reacted as it did every time he thought of her.

She shook her head. Her hair was down today and flowed in silky waves around her shoulders. She had a deer-in-the-headlights look about her, as if he'd caught her doing something unmentionable.

"It's...it's all right," she stammered. "I...uh... What are you doing here?"

Dave shifted his weight off his damaged hip and stared out at the old, faded headstones. Should he? Could he? Why not? He'd spent weeks fantasizing about this woman. Why not try it, just to see what might happen?

I can't be married to a man like you. "Dave?" Molly's soft, husky voice cut through his painful memories, pulling him back. He looked down at her, sprawled out on a red and green checkered blanket, wearing black running shorts that showed off every delectable inch of her long, shapely legs and soft thighs he wanted to touch. To kiss.

"Visiting my son," he blurted out. Oh, hell.

Molly's eyes went wide.

"He died eight years ago. It's his birthday today. I come every year, and I saw you here, and I just-"

"Dave."

"-wanted to say hi. I'll be going-"

"Dave."

"-home now. I have a lot of work to get done. Paperwork and such, you know-"

" Dave! "

"What?"

She dug into a small knapsack and pulled out a shiny, red apple. "Hungry?"

He stared at her for a long moment, his brain not processing anything but the fact she was so beautiful and he felt so stupid. Seeing her with that apple in her hand, he thought, is this how Adam felt all those years ago in Eden?