When Ava returned, with flushed cheeks, Aleksander couldn’t help but feel that something was bothering her and he was about to ask her what it was when the waitress arrived to take their orders.

And after the waitress had gone away, the flush on her face had disappeared and she had settled into a closed silence, looking like she was appreciating the scenery, but he could tell she was far away. He realized for the thousandth time since this trip had begun that all he wanted to do was delve into her mind and see what was going on inside it.

As he drew his butter knife over a small piece of bread roll, contemplating what it was that had ruffled her feathers, Olivia said, mouth full of bread, “Daddy, do you think Ava is pretty?”

What? Aleksander stopped chewing for a second because otherwise he would have choked on his bread and butter. After he swallowed, he asked Olivia, “Why do you ask?”

She stared at him plaintively. “Because I want to know.”

An awkward silence ensued.

The flush was back on Ava’s cheeks, but Olivia clearly wasn’t going to let this go without an answer.

“Daddy?”

He decided the best thing to do was to play along.

“Well, let me see…” He made an obvious display of assessing her face while he gathered his thoughts. Pretty didn’t even begin to explain Ava. She was the most gorgeous woman in the room, no competition. In fact, she was the most beautiful woman in every room he walked into. “Yes, she appears to be a fine looking woman—Viking Valkyrie and all.”

Olivia frowned at him. “Fine looking?”

“Valkyrie?” Ava queried.

“But you know what’s even better than that?” he asked, ignoring Ava’s comment for the moment. “She’s a great doctor. And that’s what I love about her.” Shit. That was the wrong word to use while trying to steer her away from this subject.

“Love?” Olivia smiled and her eyes lit up.

And of course, Olivia picked up on it. Nothing escapes her. He swallowed his groan and smiled at his daughter. “It’s a way of saying it.”

Olivia tapped her pen on her notebook. “What else is on your dating list, besides pretty?”

“My…dating list?”

The waitress arrived to refill their drinks and Aleksander hoped that with the interruption, this conversation would be forgotten. Unfortunately, once Olivia sunk her teeth into a line of questioning, she never gave up. She’ll undoubtedly make a great investigative reporter one day, if only—

“Yeah,” she barreled right in, the second she finished a swig of chocolate milk. “If you made a list of what you like for dating someone. I think she would have to be pretty and she’d have to like hamburgers. And what else?”

“Well, there’s probably some kind of hospital rules against playing matchmaker between your father and your doctor, so we should—”

“But we’re not in a hospital.”

“She has you there,” Ava said, locking him in to the awkward corner.

Olivia took a bite of her bread and Aleksander raised his eyebrows at Ava for just a second.

“Well, if you were to hypothetically assess if your doctor and I were romantically compatible—hypothetically speaking—then we should probably find out first what’s on her dating list.” How do you like the ball in your court, doctor?

Ava leaned forward. “Olivia, do you know what hypothetical means, Pixie?”

“Like a needle?” she asked, squinting her eyes in uncertainty.

“Mmm, no,” Ava shook her head with an amused smile. “That would be hypodermic.”

“Oh yeah,” Olivia said, smacking her forehead. “It means, like, not for real. Right?”

“That’s exactly right, Pumpkin,” a slightly relieved Aleksander replied.

“But what would be on your real dating list, Ava?” Olivia insisted.

Aleksander and Ava looked at each other. He challenged her with a mocking eyebrow.

Ava returned it with one of hers. Okay, counselor, I’m game. “Let’s see…”

Olivia waved her glass at Ava. “The floor’s all yours, doctor.”

Ava laughed at Olivia mimicking her father’s oft-used expression. She ticked off items on her index finger. “Item one. No athletes.”

“Daddy was a football star,” Olivia interrupted Ava. “He played in high school and in Harvard Law School. And he has lots of medals and trophies.”

“Aw, shoot,” Aleksander said, not looking all that crestfallen. “Fortunately, as we know, I’m a lawyer and businessman. But why not athletes? Got something against a man with a physique and a game plan?”

“Well, yes, I do. A bit.” A lot. Shaking the feeling off, she moved on, “Item two, good sense of humor. Three, kind. A kind person. Four, intelligent. Five…hmm…can talk.”

“So no mutes, then,” Olivia said. “That’s a good one. I’m putting that on my list, too.”

Ava laughed. “No, Liv, mute men, and any disabled men, are allowed as long as they can have an intelligent conversation about different subjects.”

“What kind of subjects?” Aleksander prompted wanting to know what interested her.

“Any subject, if the conversation is intelligent and interesting.”

“And?” Olivia prompted.

She looked at the girl and saw that she was frowning at her journal. “And what?”

“That’s the list?” Olivia looked up with a disappointed air.

“Well, I don’t really have a list.” Ava shrugged. “I mean, I’m not looking. But if I were looking, that would be my list.”

“So good-looking doesn’t matter,” the little girl said dubiously and crossed out an item on the page.

“No,” Ava said determinedly. “Looks are overrated. Good smile, though. That matters.”

“Good in bed?” Olivia suggested.

Ava choked on her iced-tea.

Aleksander frowned at his daughter. “Where did you learn that, missy?”

She shrugged. “From the TV.”

“I don’t allow you to watch such shows,” he protested.

“No, but I can hear what you watch when I can’t sleep.” She started blowing bubbles in her chocolate milk and smiled wryly, clearly loving how she was making her dad squirm. “You need to keep that racket down.”

“Ah. I will, don’t worry,” Aleksander said, then muttered something under his breath, a half-smile on his lips.

“Um, so what does good in bed mean?” Olivia asked. “That she doesn’t steal the covers from you?”

Ava’s eyes flew to his face again. His smile started in the laugh lines around his eyes, extended down to that firm mouth. Slow, and sure.

She tore her gaze away at last and took a hasty sip of her iced-tea.

“Is it hot in here?” she asked of nobody in particular. “Or is it just me?”

Their waitress bustled up with a tray, her brown hair swinging in a ponytail. “Double-bacon cheeseburger, plain chicken burger, and Caesar salad,” she announced, setting the plates down. She added the big paper-lined wire-aluminium basket of skinny-cut fries to the center of the table. “Anything else?”

Aleksander looked at Ava who shook her head and back to the waitress. “Not for the moment. Thank you.”

“Going to have to start watching that cholesterol pretty soon, Alek,” Ava said. “That’s a heart attack on a plate.”

“Aw, thanks for your concern, doctor,” he said. “All my vital signs are real good and my body is in perfect shape so far.” Do you want to check it up?

“Yeah.” She gave a ladylike snort. “Well, you watch yourself. You grow a gut and life will get a whole lot less…good-looking.”

“You think Daddy’s good looking?” Olivia piped in.

“No. Yes. I…” Ava’s train of thought jumbled and she had to shake her head at herself. “I mean, yes, your father is a handsome man but—”

“Yes?” She bounced at the edge of her seat. “Doesn’t he have the greatest smile and the dreamiest green eyes? And a sea of hair you just want to run your fingers through?”

Ava looked horrified for a second. Then she laughed. “You’re a menace, you know? Your daddy ought to keep you on a leash.”

“Arf, arf,” Olivia said, acting like a dog.

“So,” Ava said, working determinedly on her salad again. “Football star in high school, Harvard law school, one of the most powerful businessman in the US, and…” she added to another grin, “a face to die for and a good-looking body, too?”

He shrugged and smirked at her, amused at how she had put it.

“You really do have it all, don’t you?”

“Don’t have a wife anymore,” he reminded her with a sigh. And I will be losing my daughter, soon.

“I’m sorry,” she said, contrite, with a sigh of her own, “that was insensible to say.”

“But you can marry again,” Olivia said to her father. And then looked at Ava and asked, “Can’t he?”

A double menace. “I suppose so,” she said, awkwardly.

Aleksander looked at her for a moment, before saying, “That’s not in my current plans.”

Olivia’s eyes went from one to the other of them as if she was watching a tennis match. It was clear from the smile on her face that she was loving every minute of it.

But thankfully, the little girl moved on to less awkward and tempting subjects and by the time their dessert arrived, the heat coursing through Ava’s body had toned down—as much as it could considering Aleksander’s proximity.

He wiped his mouth with his napkin, elegance in his motions, tempered with masculinity. His large hands held power. His sensual mouth as well. She could imagine him skillfully using both to elicit pleasure. And then to her surprise, he stretched out his hand and brushed his thumb on the corner of her lips.

Ava jerked back, startled, as a sizzling, delicious shock of excitement trilled along her nerves.

“You had sugar on your mouth,” he said. He put a few bills inside the leather folder and rose, helping Ava out of her chair and picking up Olivia in his arms.

While Olivia chatted away about where they would put the Christmas tree, both adults walked in silence to the car too conscious of the forbidden attraction simmering between them.

Dazed, Ava crossed the street to the lot, feeling battered, like she’d been through a tame version of the Inquisition, all orchestrated by the cutest little eight-year-old imp the world had ever seen. They were waiting for Aleksander to pay for the parking when suddenly there was a commotion at the other end.

“Help,” someone shouted.

Ava rushed forward, finding a small group of people gathered around a hugely pregnant young woman, sitting on a bench. The front of her dress was wet, and she was breathing hard, clutching her belly.

“I’m not due for another two months,” she cried, clearly in a panic.

“It’s okay. I’m a doctor,” Ava said, looking up at the onlookers, as she slid in beside the woman. “Has anyone called 9-1-1?”

A man in a ski jacket and skull cap nodded. “Yeah. They’re on their way.”

Ava nodded and turned back to the woman. Her skin was pallid and ice-cold. She checked the woman’s pulse which was raging out of control, and felt the baby kick against the side of her belly. What this woman needed right now was calm, so she didn’t put the baby in more distress. “Plenty of women have had their water break early. You’re going to be all right.”

The distraught woman ran her hands over her round belly, doing her shallow breathing exercises. “I’m scared. I’ve had a couple miscarriages.”

Ava took her clammy hand in her own and squeezed it gently. “You’re okay. The ambulance will be here soon and they’ll take good care of you.”

She shivered and looked like she was going to cry. “I’m so cold.”

It was then that Olivia crept forward, pulled the pink crocheted wool cap off her head, and laid it on the woman’s bare hands. “Here. Keep yourself warm.”

Some of the attention that had been on the woman swayed to the little girl standing before her, without a hair on her head. With the cap on, she’d been just an ordinary eight-year old, and now, she was something else, a cancer victim, a sad case in herself, selfishly offering love to someone she didn’t know.

But the woman on the bench didn’t care. She took the cap gratefully and wrapped her hands with it. “Thank you, angel.”

Olivia beamed as the ambulance sirens just began to scream in the distance.

Ava smiled at her, and when the EMTs arrived and she finally let go of the woman’s hand to let them help, she realized she had tears in her eyes. She blinked them away as the pregnant woman was loaded onto a stretcher.

Before they wheeled her away, the lady handed the cap back to Olivia and thanked her and Ava.

“You’ll be just fine,” Ava told her with another squeeze of the hand.

“Both of you are my angels,” she said.

Aleksander took the cap and pulled it over his daughter’s head. “Keep it on, Liv,” he said to her. “The last thing we need is you catching a cold.”

Ava watched the ambulance speed away, lights flashing.

Aleksander turned to Ava. “Always helping people out?”

For a few seconds she was tempted to be cool, but being cool did not come naturally to her, and she turned to him and looked up, straight into those amazing green eyes. “I can’t not…it’s ingrained in me.”

“I can see that.” He leaned close enough that she could smell the fresh scent of his soap and her heart kicked against her ribs.

She imagined burying her nose in the curve of his neck, but immediately blinked away the startling thought.

Then he pulled a leaf from her long, blond tresses, twirled it on his fingers and gave it to her with a half-smile, before turning and opening the door to her. “Inside you go.”

After a few minutes, Aleksander noticed Olivia was too quiet in the back seat. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, he saw her moon-white face looking out of the window with a pensive air. “What’s on your mind, Pumpkin?”

She gnawed on her lip and sighed. “Do some people go to heaven soon?”

His heart slammed against his ribcage. He tried to deflect with humor. “As opposed to having to wait outside Heaven, like at a popular restaurant?”

From the rear mirror, he saw Olivia rolling her eyes.

“No, Daddy. I want to know if some people go to Heaven earlier than others. Like me, for example.”

Aleksander caught Ava’s gaze, a question in his eyes. She shook her head slowly and mouthed, Don’t avoid it.

Most of the time, that was just what he did. He changed the subject, skirted around the truth that was barreling up to meet them, breathing down their necks, getting closer every day. It was damned hard to think about Olivia dying and even harder to actually talk about it.

“Yes. We just don’t know when we’ll go to heaven. Sometimes babies go to heaven. Most of the time, only really old people go to heaven.”

Olivia thought a bit about his answer. “Everyone else goes to hell?”

A laugh burst out from Ava, and she turned on the seat to watch Olivia’s reaction. At the frown on her face, Ava said, “No, Liv. All good people go to Heaven, no matter what age they are.”

“But what if I’m not good enough?”

“Of course, you’re good enough,” Aleksander said immediately. Of all the things she had to worry about, that was the one she should be least concerned with. The scene in town was just one of a thousand times where Olivia had shown her enormous heart.

“Why? Does that scare you, skatten min?”

“Hmm, no. I guess not,” Olivia said. “It’s just that I have a list of things to do before I go there.”

His fingers tightened on the wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. He let out a long breath—half relief, half pain—and shifted again before flicking the radio on. “So, what’s on your list?”

“Build a fort in the living room, sit in a police car and meet a K-9; catch fireflies; feed the ducks; go down a slide and swing on a swing,” Olivia read the entries in her diary. “But I am sure there are more that I need to do.”

“I can think of a few things you might like.” said Ava. “Make a snow angel?”

“Yes! And build a snowman,” she added excitedly.

Aleksander suggested, “Camp in the backyard in a tent.”

“Right! With a ghost story at midnight!”

“Go fishing?” Ava added.

Olivia giggled. “Paint Daddy’s nails red.”

Ava burst out in laughter.

Aleksander groaned. “That is so not going onto your bucket list, missy.”

But the truth was, whether she knew it or not, he couldn’t think of a single thing he’d deny her.