Through My Eyes — Barbara Delinsky

Peter Hathaway

Big city, big name, big bucks, he embodied everything I'd rejected. But my friend Cooper was in trouble, so I'd sent for the best man money could buy.

Now Peter Hathaway, legal eagle, lady-killer, man with the Midas touch -- was at my front door. For a split second every one of the bad vibes I'd experienced in the past few days shook me. Then I took a deep breath, opened the door, looked up, and froze.

"Jill Moncrief?" His deep voice cut through the thunder of the sea, and I've never been more grateful for anything in my life. For I swear, looking into those eyes, I'd forgotten who I was.