Like a Hurricane

Like A Hurricane

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Deb Curwen

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Like A Hurricane By

Deb Curwen Triskelion Publishing www.triskelionpublishing.com

Published by Triskelion Publishing www.triskelionpublishing.com 15508 W. Bell Rd. #101, PMB #502, Surprise, AZ 85374 U.S.A. First e-published by Triskelion Publishing First e-publishing January 2005 ISBN 1-932866-58-2 Copyright © Deb Curwen 2004 All rights reserved. Cover art by Triskelion Publishing PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Chapter One

“I knew I should have worn something low cut.” Harleigh continued to stew about the speeding ticket as she pulled alongside the curb in her white Mustang. To make matters worse, the telltale lamp burning in the front window of her family’s brick Tudor cued her in that no one was home. Cursing softly, she decided if she ever made it on time for any one event in her life, there would indeed be cause for celebration. She’d even been late for her own birth, and not even the blue ticket lying on the seat next to her had succeeded in breaking the pattern. She leaned her head back and sighed, sorely tempted to bypass the party altogether. Flipping on the interior light, she checked her reflection in the rearview mirror and frowned. First, she’d have to do some heavy damage control. In her belated rush to get on the road, she had foregone the makeup, and her blond hair lay in tangled disarray across her shoulders. Worse, the smudges beneath her green eyes revealed her chronic burning of the midnight oil, and the oldest pair of jeans she owned, coupled with an oversized sweatshirt, effectively camouflaged any feminine curves underneath. Suddenly she saw herself through the officer’s eyes and wondered why he hadn’t taken pity on her haggard appearance and let her off with a warning. She had talked her way out of more speeding tickets than she cared to remember, and had she been the Harleigh of old, she would have had the young cop eating out of the palm of her hand. But tonight, Harleigh decided she looked and felt every one of her thirty years, and her natural charm had deserted her in her hour of need. The late October air refreshed her cheeks when she finally emerged from her car and grabbed an overnight bag from the backseat. Stretching the taut muscles in her neck, she sniffed the sweet smell of Jessamine, a pleasant reminder of how good it felt to at least be home again. Her sneakered feet moved soundlessly across the lawn as she made her way up the side of the house and around the back. She carefully maneuvered her mother’s prized flowerbeds and traversed the deck steps two at a time. Her stiff limbs relished the sheer joy of movement. With a quick fumble beneath an oversized pot, she retrieved the hidden key, unlocked the door and stepped inside to let it click softly behind her. The ticking of an antique clock underscored the stillness, and Harleigh shuddered at the otherwise eerie silence. She had always hated entering an empty house, and despite her perfect right to be there, she couldn’t help feeling like a thief sneaking around in the middle of the night. A hungry thief to boot.

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She hadn’t eaten since breakfast and her stomach suddenly rumbled in protest. Depositing her bag on a stool, she pulled open the refrigerator door, her mouth watering when she saw the tempting delights at her disposal. Shrimp cocktail. Stuffed mushrooms. Baked brie. And her father’s favorite crab dip. The same fare she knew she’d find at the party, so she opted instead for fresh fruit and cheese chunks. She filled a plate and poured herself a generous glass of milk. Only her quick gulp prevented it from overflowing, leaving her with a white moustache that would have done any five-year-old proud. She swiped her sleeve across her mouth, replaced the jug, and grabbed up her impromptu snack with both hands. Turning on her heel, she let out a shrill scream. A man, leaning against the island top with his arms folded across his chest, watched her every movement. A wide grin split his face as he viewed the now upside down plate on the floor and the milk splashed across the Carolina Panthers sweatshirt. “Did I do that?” His lazy drawl held no remorse as he trained a pair of cobalt blue eyes on Harleigh’s startled face. “My apologies, but I’m on meatball duty.” He scratched the side of his nose. “You should try one. They’re delicious.” Somewhere in the back of her mind, Harleigh acknowledged the stranger with the mesmerizing stare to be quite handsome. It took her all of five seconds to rake in his full head of black hair, the chiseled nose and cheekbones, and a pair of well-defined lips that any woman would undoubtedly find fascinating. He even had the requisite dimples on both sides of his bronzed face, made more apparent by his smile. And he obviously smiled a lot if the tiny lines creasing his eyes were any indication. But his good looks made him no less a stranger and Harleigh darted an anxious glance around before snatching up the closest weapon she could get her hands on. This time the stranger laughed outright. “What are you going to do, scramble me to death?” It took little effort for him to pry the stainless steel eggbeater from her fingers. Harleigh opened her mouth to scream again, but he merely bent down to retrieve her scattered dinner, giving her an unobstructed view of his incredibly wide shoulders. It occurred to her she should take this chance to run, but if he meant to do her bodily harm, she doubted he’d be peeling grapes off the floor with such meticulous care. After a moment, he stood up, eased the half-filled glass from her hand and reached around her to place both dishes on the counter. He made use of one of her mother’s delicate tea towels and began to gently blot the front of her shirt. The sight of the large, masculine hand so close to her breasts snapped Harleigh out of her stupor with lightning force. “I can take it from here. Thank you!” She slapped his hand away, vexation at his boldness warring with a sense of embarrassment as she completed the task he generously started. She

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didn’t consider herself a vain person by nature, but getting caught twice in one day looking like something the cat dragged in could only be defined as downright unfair. “Trust me,” she heard him chuckle, “I wasn't trying to cop a feel. Jailbait lost its appeal years ago.” He crossed his long legs at the ankles and resumed his earlier position. He didn’t have long to wait for Harleigh’s heated response. “Jailbait!” Her jaw clenched at the same time the tea cloth landed unceremoniously in the double sink. “Just how old do you think I am?” He shrugged, his gaze traveling down the length of her and back up again. Somehow it didn’t denote a flattering journey. “Seventeen? Eighteen, maybe?” His lips curved into a devilish grin. “Or do you still need to be tucked in every night with a bedtime story?” He laughed at his own joke and Harleigh would have liked nothing better than to wrap the man’s sense of humor around his gorgeous neck. If she could reach it. He stood at least six feet three, which put her at a distinct disadvantage. Instead, she gave him a blistering look of contempt and drew herself up to her full five feet, six inches. “Just who are you anyway?” “You took the words right out of my mouth.” He took a step closer, his eyes scanning her face with laser sharpness. “I think the question is, who are you, and what are you doing here?” “That was two questions, neither of which I’m inclined to answer. Now if you’ll kindly move out of my way.” “Not so fast, Sweetheart.” His arms shot out, bracketing her against the counter to effectively cut off her escape route. “You’re not going anywhere.” The man’s audacity annoyed Harleigh, though she found herself undeniably attracted to his scent. Despite his arrogance, he had excellent taste in cologne. “On whose authority? The only man I’ve ever taken orders from is my father. Although...“ She pasted an innocent expression on her face. “You’re probably not that much younger.” In truth, he didn’t look a day past thirty-five, but she couldn’t resist taunting him in return. “What are you? Forty-eight? Nine, maybe? Or do you need a healthy dose of fiber before bedtime?” A faint scowl creased his forehead. “Very funny. Now cut the smart mouth and tell me who you are.” “Go to hell.” Her smile dripped honey, and with a toss of her head, she attempted to step around him, but he held firm. “Brave words, but let’s see how well you stand up under R.B.’s scrutiny.” Harleigh raised her chin a notch. “R.B.?”

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“The man who owns this house.” The stranger stared down at her through chips of blue ice. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that breaking and entering is against the law?” She rolled her eyes. Of all nights to run into Dudley Do-Right. She flung her hands wide to encompass the room. “Give me a break. Do you see any door locks tampered with? Or windows busted out? And did you not see my car out front?” “Not to mention I caught you stealing.” He went on as though he hadn’t heard a word she said. “All of which constitutes a felony. You’re pretty young to be facing ten years.” “Are you for real?” Harleigh almost laughed out loud at the man’s earnest expression. He apparently believed he just caught a burglar red-handed. “Look, Mr., whatever your name is, this cops and robber routine is quite juvenile and I assure you completely unnecessary. So why don’t you quit while you’re ahead and pretend we’ve never met? I give you my solemn word not to make off with the silver.” He gave a short grunt. “If you think I’m going to let you out of my sight, think again.” He took hold of her wrist, his grip firm and unbreakable. “The way I see it, you have two choices. You can either come with me or tell your story to R.B., or I’ll simply call the police. Now which is it?” Harleigh felt the first stirrings of genuine annoyance. “What makes you think you can bully me like this?” “Maybe because I’m bigger than you are. Now, move.” For a moment, she wanted to put an end to this farce and tell the man what he could do with his silly threat. The last few weeks had taken their toll, robbing her of sleep, causing her to lose weight, and a two-hundred dollar fine given by an unsympathetic cop had only served to aggravate her mood further. But she discovered a perverse pleasure in this man’s stupidity. An impish need to play him dispelled the notion of simply revealing her identity. To do so would rob her of a little fun. And right now, that's exactly what Harleigh needed. A little harmless fun. She turned the full force of her gaze on him and assumed a look of growing unease. “You wouldn’t really call the police on me, would you?” “Try me.” She bit her lip with trepidation. “Please, Mister, I didn’t mean any harm. Really I didn’t.” She let him see her chin quiver and sniffed once. “Can’t you cut me some slack? I haven’t eaten since this morning.” For added measure, she sniffed again. “Is it so terrible that I’m hungry? And these people are obviously living right. If I rearrange the fruit bowl, they’ll never miss the first grape. A little trick I learned from years of babysitting.” She dipped her head and dug the toe of her sneaker into the floor.

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She anxiously chewed on her thumbnail and lifted her head just long enough for him to think she might start blubbering at any moment. Seconds ticked by, the silence in the kitchen palpable. The tall stranger stood very still, though his hold on her wrist loosened its death grip. Had her plea for leniency worked? Had she injected just the right amount of repentance in her voice? Unable to bear the suspense a moment longer, Harleigh peeked from beneath her lashes, fully expecting to see a softening in the man’s granite chin. Disappointment pricked her insides. Instead, the rise and fall beneath his expensive cashmere sweater unmistakably started as a low rumble that soon erupted into loud and hearty laughter. He made no effort to keep his amusement in check, and all, she suspected, at her own expense. “Try again, kid. I had more sympathy for my dog when I caught him chewing on my seven wood.” His laughter grew, and with it, Harleigh’s temper. “Quit calling me a kid.” She yanked her wrist from his grasp. Feeling the tables turned, escaping his insufferable presence became her only objective. In the half dozen steps it took her to reach the stairs, he made it in two. “Don’t even think about it,” he growled from behind, though a hint of amusement still laced his tone. Steel fingers clamped around her arm before she could take the first stair. For a man his size, he moved quickly, hauling her around and pinning her against the banister. A cry of protest broke from her lips. Harleigh stared at him through half-closed eyes, his features seeming to melt into a blurry blob of nothing. Surprisingly, she felt grateful he held her so tightly, otherwise she knew she would have fallen. Her head spun, and her mouth went dry as a wave of nausea threatened to overtake her. Feeling the color drain from her face, she swayed slightly. “This better not be another trick.” She heard the stranger mutter roughly as he eased her down onto the bottom stair. “Try to relax. If it will help, put your head between your knees.” Harleigh quelled a smart comeback and obeyed, mentally counting to ten. After a moment, she raised her head and leaned against the banister, her eyelids firmly shuttered. She felt him watching her, but took advantage of the brief respite to regain her equilibrium. “I suppose this means you’re pregnant.” She opened her eyes and sighed heavily. “Were you sent here to specifically annoy me? Because if you were, you’re doing a damned good job of it.” “Now I know you’re a thief.” He grinned. “You keep stealing my lines.” Rising to his feet, he moved quickly to the sink, filled a glass with water, and returned in a heartbeat to place it between her hands. “Drink this,” he ordered with a modicum of authority, “and don’t give me any grief.”

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The cool water felt glorious going down, and for the first time that night, Harleigh genuinely smiled. “Thank you. I’m feeling better now.” She handed the glass back to him and stood up. “And in answer to your question, the last thing on my mind these days is the pitter patter of tiny feet. I’m simply lightheaded from lack of food and a good night’s sleep.” Sidestepping him, she retrieved her overnight bag from the stool and retraced her steps to the stairway. His arm shot out and blocked her exit. “Now where do you think you’re going?” “Would you please get out of my way! Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m going upstairs to my bedroom.” That got his attention. “What do you mean?” She eyed him with exasperation. “Look, don’t you get it? I live here. More accurately, my parents live here. My name is Harleigh Boston, as in beloved and only daughter of R.B. Boston.” She poured on the syrup so there would be no doubt she had little fear of retribution falling on her head. “You’re Harleigh?” She found the genuine surprise on his face somehow insulting, but her weariness prevented her from taking umbrage. Right now only a steaming bath could soothe her, and not even the bluest eyes in South Carolina could deter her from her objective. “That’s right,” she snapped. “That’s my car out front. I came through the back door because there’s always a spare key hidden there. Although why I’m explaining myself to you is beyond me.” “So you’re Harleigh,” he repeated, again with unflattering emphasis. “Quit making it sound as though I should apologize or something. Yes, I’m Harleigh, and I have every right to be here.” He held up his hands. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. It’s just that…” His hands braced his hips and his voice trailed off. “Just what?” “Frankly, I didn’t recognize you.” “Why should you? We’ve never met. And I should be questioning your presence here.” He seemed ready to comply, but she waved him aside. “Some other time. Despite your obnoxious behavior, you seem harmless enough and I have a previous engagement from which you're keeping me.” Over her shoulder, she added, “So goodbye, good luck, and eat a meatball for me, whatever your name is.” “It’s Mitch, Harleigh.

Mitch Brannigan.”

A moment of silence filled the air before he

continued, “You know, the man with all that money you need.”

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The man with all that money you need. Harleigh came to a complete halt and turned back around slowly. Did she hear him correctly? Had she not had the benefit of the banister, she knew her legs would have buckled beneath her and sent her sprawling in unladylike fashion. She swallowed hard and bit the inside of her cheek to hold a sudden urge to giggle at bay. Her cheeks flamed when Mitch Brannigan sauntered toward her and extended one hand. “Nice to finally meet you, Harleigh. I’ve heard a lot about you. But then,” he flashed his white teeth as though auditioning for a toothpaste commercial, “seeing as I’m the man who could be the answer to your prayers, that could be a good thing.” Harleigh stared at him as though he had just turned into her biggest nightmare. She blindly obliged his friendly token and placed her hand in his. For about a tenth of a second. Any longer and he would have seen undeniable guilt in her eyes. She dropped her bag on the stairs and eased past him, willing herself to maintain a cool facade. She hadn’t done anything wrong or illegal, and, on second thought, she certainly hadn’t done anything to feel guilty about. “Busted.” His taunt from behind lifted the hairs on the back of her neck. She turned and leaned against the island and folded her arms, defiance lifting her chin a notch. “Excuse me?” He grinned. “Innocence becomes you, even if we both know it’s misplaced.” It only took a moment’s hesitation before Harleigh conceded defeat. Why deny it? He was right. She was busted. Big deal. No harm done. Although she couldn’t resist taunting him in return. “Were you born pompous or is this merely a trait you’ve acquired over the years along with your millions?” “You’re calling me pompous? The proverbial pot in a pair of tight jeans.” She raised an eyebrow. “If you consider me jail bait, should you be looking?” He laughed outright. “Touché.” “So what exactly is my crime now that we’ve determined breaking and entering isn’t?” “No crime to speak of, though it wouldn’t be the first time a woman considered me great husband material due to the size of my bank account.” “Get that a lot, do you?” Mitch shrugged. “Perhaps. But never from someone trying to get financial backing for her new lingerie line.” Harleigh grimaced at the sound of her own words coming back to haunt her. Words she’d

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spoken in jest at the dinner table. “I was joking. It was a joke.” “Good to know. I’d hate to think a man of R.B.’s caliber had a daughter with avaricious blood flowing through her veins.” “And if I did have?” she challenged. “I’m sure you didn’t get where you are today by always playing Mr. Nice Guy.” “Point taken. But I happen to admire your father very much. I would find it hard to believe that you haven’t benefited from his wisdom after all these years.” Harleigh agreed wholeheartedly with the man’s perception of her father, but she frowned just the same. “Where was his wisdom in repeating words not meant to be repeated?” Mitch surprised her with another of his flashing grins. “R.B.’s honor is intact. It’s your three older brothers who don’t seem to have a problem overlooking protocol. Even at the expense of their little sister.” Harleigh rolled her eyes and knew full well the earful Mr. Brannigan must have gotten one night at the Boston dinner table. “I should have seen that one coming. I hope one of them had the decency to admit I only said what I did after they did their fair share of egging me on.” “Consider the odds.” Harleigh gave a less than ladylike grunt. She knew full well how mischievous her brothers could be. Especially when dealing with the men in her life. None of whom they had ever thought good enough for her. The men in her life? As though there had been one of those in a long time. “So you’re Mitch Brannigan?” She shifted the focus back to him. “The new golf partner Daddy talks about ad nauseam.” A slight exaggeration, but her defense mechanism remained in overdrive. Rather than take offense, Mitch took the barb in stride. “I've enjoyed many a round with R.B. He's a damn good golfer.” He sounded duly impressed. “I understand you play quite well yourself.” “I have a respectable handicap.” She ran a critical eye up and down the length of him, mentally noting that not even cashmere could disguise his well-defined biceps. So this model of GQ chic was Mitch Brannigan. Who would have guessed? “I must say,” she allowed with a modicum of irony, “you don’t look like a golfer, weekend or otherwise.” “What does a weekend golfer look like?” “Like a billboard for the latest in polyester and knickers fashions.” His rich laughter rang out. “I'll take that as a compliment.” “You would,” she muttered beneath her breath, curbing an impulse to tell him what he could do

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with his dual dimples. She could be jumping to conclusions about the man, but his overabundance of self-confidence annoyed her sensibilities. Stubbornly, she refused to admit why it annoyed her. “Just what are you doing here, anyway?” “I told you. I was sent to pick up more food.” “Really?” “You don’t believe me?” Harleigh shrugged. “I’ve deduced we’re on the same guest list, but my mom is the consummate party planner. I can’t imagine her forgetting something as obvious as the menu.” Mitch grinned. “I get it. I suspected you, now you suspect me. Fair enough, if it makes you feel better.” “So now you’re implying I’m indulging in some childish game of retaliation?” “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Harleigh bit her lip. A strong desire to punch his lights out had her gripping the edge of the island with both hands. But the realization she kind of liked the way he looked at her effectively doused her impulse for violence. He accused her of acting like a child, but his sexy stare made her feel very much like a woman. Confused, she paused. Somewhere along the line, this sliver of awareness on her part had begun to cast him in a more favorable light. The concept did not elicit a great deal of enthusiasm. It only served to sour her disposition even more. “Mr. Brannigan, while I’d love to stay and trade insults with you, I dare say they're popping the champagne as we speak.” She jammed her hands into her pockets and fixed him with an icy look. “So before my father’s candles burn into oblivion, I’ll excuse myself to get dressed.” Without missing a beat, Mitch gave an exaggerated wave of his hand to ensure this time he wouldn’t impede her progress upstairs. He leaned forward so she wouldn’t miss his husky murmur as she sailed past. “Don’t keep me waiting long, Sweetheart.” “Waiting for what?” “The man with the money would consider it his honor and pleasure to drive you to the party.” “Let it go, will you? The joke’s over. And, thanks, but I’m perfectly capable of driving myself.” “I’m sure you are, but allow me to insist.” When she saw he wouldn’t budge, she retrieved her bag from the step and flung tartly over her shoulder, “Suit yourself. Far be it from me to deprive you of racking up more brownie points with R.B.” The receding sound of his insufferable laughter made her eyelids twitch. Sweetheart. Twice he had called her that.

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She hated to admit it, but it had a nice ring to it.

***

Mitch flipped through a magazine when he heard footsteps on the stairs. It seemed the little princess had at least one redeeming quality. He glanced at his watch. It had taken her less than thirty minutes to get ready. He chuckled softly to himself. Though he’d teased her about looking only eighteen, he knew full well thirty candles had lit the last birthday cake of the tempestuous Harleigh Boston. He even considered her cute in an unassuming way, if one could get past the smart mouth and lofty attitude. Although, on second thought, he couldn't fault R.B.’s penchant for extolling her virtues entirely. It hadn't escaped his notice the good doctor’s daughter had a perfectly rounded derriere that would fit quite snugly in the palms of his hands. In that respect, Daddy’s little girl could definitely be considered all grown up. And, of course, the mouth. Definitely kissable. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't known a moment’s temptation to crush its fullness beneath his own. If nothing else than to shut her up at regular intervals. He grinned. He liked feistiness in a woman. And he suspected she probably had more spirit than most men would know how to handle. Not that he included himself in that group. Confidence dictated he could handle her just fine. But, at the ripe old age of thirty-nine, Mitch liked to concentrate on a gentler version of the female species. Someone less sassy, and infinitely more compliant. He wanted a bride, all right, even kids and all the trappings that came with them. Something the little spitfire upstairs would undoubtedly spurn as antiquated garbage. Even Trish had commented she despaired of ever having grandchildren courtesy of her only daughter. Marriage and R.B.’s daughter? Where the hell had that come from, and in the same breath? Mitch frowned at his wayward thoughts. As if on cue, the scent of a very pleasing perfume filled his nostrils as he listened to heels clicking across the floor. Anxious to simply get on the road, he tossed aside the magazine and turned around. His heart promptly slammed to his knees. “I see you’re still here.” She stated the obvious. “I’m ready if you are.” Her voice barely registered on his consciousness, and for the first time in his adult life, Mitch found speech difficult. So much for first impressions. A nerve twitched at the corner of his mouth as he

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conducted a slow, sweeping survey of the woman standing in the doorway. Or should he say every man’s fantasy? No longer did a scrubbed-face teenager with a trace of milk dotting her lip peer up at him. In her place now, a ravishing beauty who even R.B. himself hadn’t done justice filled his line of vision and then some. Gone were the ratty jeans, sweatshirt, and sneakers. Instead, she had changed into a clinging black dress that hugged every line of her tight body. The low neckline revealed full breasts previously hidden and Mitch swallowed hard at their creamy perfection. A pair of shapely legs encased in sheer stockings curved down to slender feet in black satin heels, the kind made for dancing before seduction. And she’d drawn her hair, once straight and hanging loosely around her shoulders, on top of her head with blond wisps framing a traffic-stopping face. Minimal makeup gave her a flawless glow. From the black sooty lashes to the up-tilted nose to the generous rose-tinted lips, she blended femininity and blatant sexuality to an intoxicating level. Here stood the stunning blond he had heard tales of from the Boston home to the country club right on down to the corner market. Intuitively, Mitch knew why many made such a fuss over the youngest member of the Boston family. “Mr. Brannigan? Are you all right?” Oh yeah, you know damn well how to catch a man off guard. And Mitch could easily see her earlier irritation had vanished. The smile she gave him could melt the chocolate off of a cupcake. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” “Not at all,” Mitch managed to croak, pleased he at least sounded coherent. “But, if that’s all you have to wear, you’ll need a jacket to cover up. It’s cold out tonight.” “Your concern is touching,” she purred. “But I’m tough. I can take it.” “Okay, if you say so. The food’s in the car. Shall we go?” He brushed past her to open the door and waited patiently for her to lead the way. Harleigh obliged with a cool nod, and swept regally past him. The sleek sports car in the driveway purred impressively. She said as much and extended one hand. “Keys, please. I’ll drive.” Mitch pulled the door shut behind him and gave a quick bark of laughter. “Not in this lifetime.” A breeze whipped the hair from Harleigh’s cheeks, but her face didn’t catch Mitch’s attention in the moonlight. The cool air penetrating the material of her dress caused a certain part of her anatomy to stand perfectly erect. And reinforced his earlier observations. The lady definitely flaunted her maturity in all the right places. He knew he should have insisted she wear a jacket, if for no one else’s benefit but his own.

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He held the passenger door open for her, quick to notice the expanse of shapely thighs exposed as she slid onto the interior. In the time it took him to slide behind the wheel and turn on the ignition, he couldn’t help wondering just how tough the little princess considered him to be.

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Chapter Two

A mixture of noise, lights, and laughter emanated from the Hidden Cove Country Club when Harleigh and her chauffeur entered through the doors of the reception hall where a party buzzed in full swing. Balloons and streamers hung from the ceiling, floated in the air, or draped the food-laden tables. Women gossiped and laughed, men gestured wildly with their hands, and the general atmosphere sounded festive and full of frivolity. Pop music blared from the sound system, coaxing more couples onto the crowded dance floor. A guest, enjoying one cocktail too many, stumbled in their path and almost whipped Harleigh’s heels from beneath her. Mitch’s quick hands snaked out to stall her encounter with the coat rack. A grin split his handsome face. “What’s so funny?” she snapped, wishing she had listened to him and grabbed a coat. She felt like a damn popsicle. “You don’t look so tough right now. You’ve got goose bumps in all the right places.” “Nice of you to notice.” His I-told-you-so smirk had her counting to five before she cold-cocked him, but a familiar voice interrupting them from behind saved him from immediate harm. “Harleigh!” R.B. Boston, a giant bear of a man with a head full of white hair and a smile splitting the bottom half of his still handsome face, pulled her into his arms and swung her around with gusto. “I knew you’d make it, Sweet Pea. Though late as usual.” Harleigh burst out laughing at his exuberance. “Hi, Daddy.” Vainly trying to keep from exposing her backside like a party favor, she showed her delight at being back in her father’s arms after a two and a half month’s absence. Once grounded, she rose up on her toes and kissed him soundly on the cheek. “And happy birthday. You look terrific.” “I feel terrific.” He smiled broadly at her and turned his attention to the younger man beside her. “Mitch, I see you and my girl have already met. How did that happen?” Mitch accepted R.B.’s proffered hand. He started to respond, but Harleigh beat him to the punch. “We met back at the house, Daddy. Mom is obviously still cracking the whip, this time at Mr. Brannigan’s expense. He stopped by to pick up more food and was kind enough to offer me a lift.” Her voice crooned soft and cordial while her smile appeared warm and engaging. But she knew how to turn on the flashing gaze and she hoped it left little doubt in Mitch’s mind that she spouted civility for her Daddy’s benefit. She cinched it with her next words, spoken for his ears only. “First a

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gopher, then a chauffeur.” If she thought to goad him, he surprised her with a look that made her think he might kiss her in pure retaliation. Instead, he simply turned to R.B. and said, “Looks like the party is in full swing. Trish has outdone herself.” “Harleigh!” On cue, the hostess gave a cry of delight from the open doorway. Throwing her arms wide, Harleigh’s mother hurried over and hugged her daughter fiercely. “How wonderful to see you. I can’t believe you’re finally here.” At fifty-eight, Trish Boston presented a trim and attractive package in a bronze silk pantsuit, her upswept hair complementing her refined, still youthful appearance. With a slight frown, she ran a critical eye down the length of her youngest child. “Darling, you look so thin. Are you hungry? Please tell me you’re not living on those ridiculous dietary supplements. What else could...?” “Leave the girl alone,” R.B. interjected good-naturedly. “We haven’t seen her in months. Do you want to chase her back to Charleston before I even get my birthday dance?” Trish ignored her husband’s mild rebuke to bestow a beseeching smile in Mitch’s direction. “Mitch, would you be a dear and fix Harleigh a plate?” The target of her good intentions cringed inwardly. “Mom, please, I’m not a child. I’m perfectly capable of…” Unfortunately, Harleigh’s plea fell on deaf ears as Mitch took it upon himself to commandeer her elbow and steer her toward the buffet. “Be a dutiful little girl and go eat a meatball,” he chided with a wicked grin. His blue eyes danced with merriment, and Harleigh fought the temptation to act like a child after all and stick her tongue out at him. Instead, she schooled her features into a mask of docility, and gave him a tepid smile. “Don’t feel as though you have to baby-sit me, Mr. Brannigan.” “I don’t.” He handed her a plate. “And I repeat, the name’s Mitch. M-i-t-c-h.” “You can spell your own name. I’m impressed.” His fingers were warm against her own, and Harleigh almost snatched the china from him. “I believe I’ve ruffled your feathers in some way.” He didn’t sound in the least bit concerned. “And what beautiful feathers they turned out to be.” “It’s amazing what a hot shower and fresh face can do.” He took the liberty of spooning a few meatballs onto her plate. “Exercising a little vanity, perhaps?” She scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

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“It worked.” His devastating smile had an uncanny knack for enhancing the blue diamonds in his eyes, reminding Harleigh yet again how impossibly handsome he was. She might even have to say he exuded a great deal of charm in an irritating sort of way. His next move confirmed it. “Open your mouth.” “Excuse me?” He took the opportunity to slip an olive between her lips. His fingers lingered ever so slightly on her mouth. The contact sent an electric jolt through her middle. “Trish’s orders, remember?” The olive turned to the size of a lemon and Harleigh found it difficult to swallow. “I don’t think Mom meant for you to take her literally.” “Oh, but I take my responsibilities very seriously.” As though to prove his point, he lifted another olive to her mouth, but her hand forestalled him. “Thanks, but I can feed myself. Believe it or not, I don’t even need a sippy cup.” She eased around the table to put a little distance between them. His nearness became more disconcerting with each passing moment. “Coward.” For a moment, she thought she imagined his husky murmur. When their eyes met across the linen, his expression said otherwise, but if he noticed her heightened color, he kept it to himself. “So I understand this is your first trip home in a while.” “A girl’s gotta work.” “R.B. says you’re working on a new line. How’s it coming?” “It’s coming.” He took the hint. “Keeping it under wraps?” “Something like that,” Harleigh dodged. She purposely neglected to tell him of her battle with a designer’s equivalent to writer’s block. Lately, her creations showed about as much imagination as the drawings of a first-grader. The show she recently attended in Las Vegas had given her high hopes for new perspective and inspiration in the field of women’s lingerie. Instead, she came home with halfbaked creations that held about as much appeal as corduroy teddies. She had had mental blocks before, but never any of this magnitude and she could easily guess at least one reason behind it. Having been without a man for so long made her doubt her own appeal and femininity to the opposite sex. How could she inspire others when inspiration stubbornly refused to come knocking on her door? “You can trust me, you know.” Mitch’s words brought her head up. “Trust you?”

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“Not to divulge your secret.” Harleigh’s cheeks burned with mortification. How the hell did Mitch know her sex life had taken an extended vacation? For one frantic moment, she searched his face for confirmation. Or worse yet, pity. But seeing no trace of either on his face, she almost laughed out loud at her own foolishness. She couldn’t prevent a small sigh of relief escaping. “You’re talking about my design line, of course?” He nodded. “Though I can certainly understand your desire for secrecy. A marvel like you wouldn’t want to chance someone stealing her ideas.” “Daddy’s been busy, I see.” He grinned. “He sings your praises on a regular basis. Which gives us something in common, don’t you think?” Calm again, Harleigh swallowed the last of a wheat cracker and neatly wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “I can’t imagine we have anything in common, Mr. Brannigan, but I won’t hold it against you.” She replaced her plate on the table and turned to go, but Mitch’s hand forestalled her. “Not running away, I hope. We were just starting to get better acquainted.” The tanned fingers pressing into her forearm sent an involuntary shudder through her. His touch warmed her bare skin, the sensation incredibly pleasant and sensual, and celibacy aside, she couldn’t remember a man’s touch ever affecting her in such a delicious and wicked manner. She quelled the rush of heat coursing through her and said simply, “I promised my dad a dance. Any objections?” “Not a one, as long as I get my turn.” She patted his arm reassuringly. “Of course. But let Daddy lead. After all, it is his birthday.” Walking away, she couldn’t help noting his husky laugh had fast become a familiar one. Not to mention a very likeable one.

***

Mitch scanned the dance floor and saw her in an instant. Impossible to miss and too beautiful for words. Laughing one minute, tossing a saucy look over her shoulder the next. She obviously loved to dance, proving it by rocking every inch of her lithe body in perfect time to the music. He watched her intermittently for over an hour, enjoyed her exuberance, and bided his time until he could cut in. Her current partner, the youngest of her three brothers, also moved with the grace and agility of a trained professional. Less than two years apart in age, Holden and Harleigh bore a strong resemblance

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to one another, reassuring Mitch that, if the little princess craved a good time, at least she craved it tonight with her own sibling. He didn’t know how it had happened, but R.B.’s daughter had come on like a hurricane. He didn’t mind admitting it might be fun to throw himself directly in her path and brace for the inevitable assault. Lost in his reverie, the lady descended on him in a breathless rush and caught him off guard. Harleigh tossed her head back and laughed, her hands bracing her slim hips. “Are you planning to stand there all night, Mr. Brannigan? You look like a very proper chaperone standing guard over the senior prom.” Her green gaze flashed as brilliantly as her smile. “I thought by now you would have asked me to dance.” Her playful mood charmed Mitch to the core. And triggered suspicion. “The night is still young. Perhaps I’ve been waiting for the right moment.” She laughed. “What’s wrong with now? You do know how to dance, don’t you?” “I wouldn’t embarrass you.” She lifted her chin. “Prove it.” Without missing a beat, Mitch drawled, “Lead the way.”

***

Harleigh swayed her hips provocatively as she felt Mitch fall into step behind her. Maneuvering through the couples, she knew her feminine ploy succeeded when they faced each other and the smile on his face proved he hadn’t missed her efforts. The music’s tempo slowed to a romantic ballad, prompting her to stumble slightly. Mitch’s quick arm snaked out to steady her. He took one of her hands in his larger one and wrapped his arm around her waist. She couldn’t deny she liked the way she felt and fit in his arms, and even imagined he tightened his embrace while holding her. It took less than ten seconds for her to discover that for a man his size, he moved smoothly and lightly on his feet. She followed his lead with little effort. The love song garnered a welcome respite from the last three fast numbers favored by the DJ. The sensual lyrics lulled her senses, but the strong arms holding her drew her into a cocoon both pleasingly and deliciously warm. For a moment, they moved in companionable silence, giving Harleigh reason to think perhaps she should re-evaluate her opinion of the arrogant Mr. Brannigan. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head against his chest and simply enjoyed the sensation of being in a man’s arms again. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

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Surprised, she lifted her head. “Excuse me?” “You heard me.” She frowned. “Why do you persist in treating me like a kid?” That got a laugh out of him. “Trust me, Sweetheart, I’ve revised my thinking on that score. But you’re half drunk. What gives?” Piqued, Harleigh attempted to break free from him, but he pinned her wrists at the small of her back and effectively blocked her escape. “I thought we came out here to dance, not wrestle. That’s Tommy’s department.” Mitch grinned. “Tommy may have been state champion three years running in high school, but twenty years and twice as many pounds have seriously curtailed his prowess as a lean, mean wrecking machine. And besides, he’s not my type. The last time I spoke to him, he was heading to the buffet for seconds.” She squirmed in his arms, encountering the rock solid muscle of his thighs brushing against hers. She promptly ceased all movement. “Randy’s less than three feet away,” she choked, eyeing her oldest brother locked in a duty dance with the mayor’s portly wife. “You do know he just made Sergeant with the police department?” Mitch’s hand curved its way up her spine, pulling her into the crook of his torso. “And I congratulated him just last week. You missed one helluva party.” “I’d hate to cause a scene by yelling for help.” “You cause a scene? What a novel idea.” Harleigh found it more difficult to breathe with each passing moment. While not unpleasant, Mitch’s stronghold caused havoc with her equilibrium, aided in no small measure by the amount of alcohol she had consumed. His smell gave off an intoxicating blend of mint and musk, and his blue eyes seemed to reach deep inside her soul. Almost as though he could read her mind. “Ease up on the death grip. What will people think?” “As if you care.” He leaned in so his lips barely tickled the inside of her ear. “They’ll think we’re eating up the dance floor. And enjoying every moment of it. I know I am.” “This isn’t dancing. It’s called holding me against my will.” “Give it up, Sweetheart. I’m perfectly content to go on holding you until you give me an answer.” Defiance overruled the wicked sensations spiraling through her middle. “I forgot the question,” she stalled, only to waver beneath the determined glint in his eyes. He didn’t budge. “Though it’s none

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of your business, I’ve had two.” “Wrong. The drink you polished off moments ago was your third in less than an hour.” “You’re beginning to sound like my mother.” “And you’re still dodging the question.” He instinctively swung her around when another couple jostled his shoulder. “A beautiful woman like you doesn’t need to imbibe.” “Is that a compliment or a reprimand?” “Consider it friendly advice.” Mitch reached out and cupped her chin. “What is it? It can’t be that bad.” The smooth cadence of his voice unnerved her. What would he say if she told him he had put her at such odds? She searched his face, wondering if a healthy sense of humor lurked behind those delicious cheekbones to go along with his even healthier ego. He’d probably get a kick knowing she found him incredibly attractive and sexy. But the song ended, and he relaxed his hold, the moment passing. “Thanks, but if and when I ever need a shrink, I’ll look in the yellow pages.” “Are you always this stubborn?” “Are you always this bullying?” “Only when something’s worth pursuing.” He paused and took it a step further. “Or should I say someone?” His declaration silenced her. When his head lowered and his mouth captured her lips in a mindnumbing kiss, her toes curled and the blood rushed to her head. Had he not been holding her, she could easily have slithered to the floor in a pool of wanton need. Too soon his mouth lifted and when Harleigh’s eyes fluttered open, she didn’t imagine the desire running rampant in his eyes. “Now tell me,” he murmured, “that it’s none of my business.” She swallowed hard, uncertain she could tell him anything at the moment. Her mouth tingled in the aftermath of his kiss and she fought an impulse to throw her arms around his neck to reclaim the most delicious moment she had experienced in a long time. But Chubby Checker blaring from the sound system effectively cooled her ardor and she gave a self-conscious laugh. “I’d love to twist the night away, but Mother Nature calls.” She turned to go, but surprised herself by saying, “oh, and by the way, Mitch, you dance very well.” He caught her wrist. “We’re making progress.” “Excuse me?” “You called me Mitch.”

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She opened her mouth for a quick retort and realized she didn’t have one. She left him standing there while the other couples paid little heed and continued dancing around them.

***

Mitch stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel from the wall hook. Not bothering to dry himself off, he wrapped the white cotton around his waist and secured it at one end. Steam had turned the bathroom into a sauna, and he used the heel of his hand to wipe off the vanity mirror. An image of a blond spitfire filled the glass, and thinking back to the party, a satisfied smile settled on his face. He hadn’t embarrassed the lady on the dance floor. But even better, she had finally called him by his first name. He chuckled. Definitely a package of contradictions. Feisty one minute, arguably docile the next. And he couldn’t make up his mind which Harleigh he found more appealing. The fresh-faced teenager with the saucy tongue or the stunning beauty with too much sex appeal for his own good. Either way, he had certainly enjoyed himself tonight even thought they’d only danced one time. At least she had had the good sense to lay off the vodka. He kept a close eye on her throughout the remainder of the evening, silently applauding when she joined in R.B.’s birthday toast with black coffee to everyone else’s mixed bag of spirits. Offering to return her safely back to her parents’ house, he hadn’t been surprised when she politely refused, electing instead to accept a ride with Holden. And though her abrupt dismissal of him still lingered in his mind, he wouldn’t give up trying to get to know her better. Not when she had so neatly captured, if not his heart, than most certainly his attention. He completed his ministrations and flicked off the bathroom light and padded into his bedroom. Whipping off the towel, he flung it across a chair and pulled back the covers. A low growl from the hulking Great Dane resting at the foot of the bed preceded the distinct sound of the doorbell. “Quiet, Coby,” Mitch commanded, his eyes darting to the clock on the night stand. Two o’clock in the morning. Who the hell would be visiting at this late hour? He muttered an oath and thrust his legs into a pair of worn jeans. With Coby at his heels, he bounded barefoot down the stairs, taking time to zip up his fly, but leaving the top button undone. His late night caller’s visit would be a short one. He pulled open the door with a curt message, but the words never drew breath. He scratched the side of his nose as a slow smile spread across his face. “It’s a little early for trick-or-treating.”

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“I couldn’t sleep.” Harleigh shivered in the night air and burrowed her hands inside her coat pockets. She eyed Coby taking up residence at his feet and took a step backward. “He looks ready to pounce.” “Back upstairs, Coby,” Mitch ordered with the snap of a finger. “The lady’s not dangerous. At least not to you.” Trusting in her master, Coby obeyed, and promptly headed back in the direction from which she came. “No one told me you live with Godzilla.” Mitch grinned. “She may look the part, but she’s really Bambi in a larger skin.” “It’s chilly out here. May I come in?” “By all means.” He shut the door behind him and turned to find her blatantly appraising him from head to toe. “Do I pass inspection?” She had the grace to smile as she eased out of her jacket and hooked it on the banister. “You obviously work out.” “Nice of you to notice.” “It’s kind of hard to miss when you answer the door half-naked.” Amused, Mitch folded his arms across his chest. “It is the middle of the night. Coby and I were just turning in when you rang.” Deliberately, he performed his own silent appraisal of his unexpected guest. She had changed into black jeans and a pink sweater, and her hair now fell in soft waves around her face. He wondered if it felt as silky as it looked. The thought sobered him. “So what brings you by, Harleigh?” he asked softly. “I told you. I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to go for a drive.” “Do Trish and R.B. know you’re here?” Harleigh eyed him with mild vexation. “Honestly Mitch, my curfew ended on my eighteenth birthday. I don’t need Mommy and Daddy’s permission to visit a friend.” “So now I’m a friend?” She darted her tongue across her lower lip, ignoring his suggestion. “If my being here makes you uncomfortable, I can leave.” The foyer light reflected the haunting green of her eyes, and Mitch saw something flash in their depths. Something he couldn’t put his finger on. His instincts told him to tread softly, so he decided to follow her lead. He held out one hand. “Look,” he teased, “steady as a rock.” He tried to ignore the way her gaze drifted up and down his torso. “How did you know where I live, anyway?”

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“Daddy mentioned it in passing once or twice. “ Her eyes wandered over his face for a long moment. “Do you want me to leave?” In response, Mitch inclined his head toward the room on his right. “I’ll put some coffee on.” “I’d prefer a glass of wine.” She didn’t miss his raised eyebrow. “For the record, I rarely drink. Tonight was an exception and I quit after your little lecture. The wine will help me sleep.” He declined comment, moving past her to flip on a lamp that immediately bathed the den with warm radiance. Harleigh followed close behind, watching as he pulled two goblets from a glass shelf. Setting them on top of the bar, he filled both with a generous amount of the burgundy liquid and handed one to her. He watched her take a quick sip of the wine and wondered at her sudden self-consciousness. Her next question took him by surprise. “So who was the brunette I saw you dancing with tonight?” Mitch leaned against the bar and crossed his feet at the ankles. “You mean after you gave me the brush off?” She let that one pass. “There was something familiar about her. She’s beautiful.” He took a long swallow of wine. “She is that,” he agreed without hesitation. “And if she looks familiar, you probably recognize her from Channel Four news. I understand she’s giving the other anchors stiff competition in the ratings war.” “Ruane Kennedy?” At his nod, Harleigh looked dutifully impressed. “I seem to recall Dad did a root canal on her a couple of years ago. She’s quite a celebrity around here.” She cocked her head to the side. “I also seem to recall reading her wedding announcement a year or so ago.” “Her husband’s away on business.” “That’s convenient.” “Meaning?” Harleigh shrugged. “Probably just my imagination that she spent a great deal of her time in your immediate vicinity.” Mitch tried not to smile. “You noticed that, did you?” She seemed to want to say more, instead, changed the subject altogether. “Nice place you have here.” Curling her fingers around the stem of her glass, she moved around the room to assess her surroundings. Mitch had taken great care in furnishing his den with plush sofas and matching armchairs. A Persian rug encompassed almost the length and width of the room and fine pieces of sculpture he had collected from various parts of the world adorned the glass-top tables. Admittedly, he liked nice things

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around him, including his miniature library of books of varying topics and sizes that encompassed one wall. Another wall boasted a wide screen television surrounded by the latest trends in electronic entertainment. A baby grand piano handed down by his maternal grandparents graced one corner with the obligatory arrangement of family photos gracing the surface. After a moment, Harleigh turned around with a teasing glint in her eye. “Definitely a man’s room, and yet one to make a woman feel perfectly at ease.” She sat down on one of the sofas and tucked her legs beneath her. She sipped her wine and set it aside to clutch a pillow to her middle. “Is there one? A woman, I mean?” He took a seat on the arm of the opposite sofa. “Is this why you can’t sleep? You’re worried about my love life?” “Just curious. Do you mind?” His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Ask away.” “Okay. Is there a Mrs. Brannigan?” “Of course there is.” That seemed to catch her completely off guard. “Oh.” She gave a short laugh. “I guess I just assumed…” “Assumed? Or dare I say hoped?” “Daddy just never mentioned you were married.” Mitch grinned, confident he had annoyed her and peaked her interest at the same time. “I’m not married, Harleigh. I was referring to my mother.” Her fingers toyed with the fringe of the pillow as she continued her not so subtle interrogation. “Ever plan on getting married?” Now Mitch found her line of questioning intriguing, to say the least. “Sure, when the time is right. And the right one comes along. What about you? Why haven’t you said yes?” Harleigh shrugged. “No one’s asked.” She said it matter-of-factly, though skepticism laced Mitch’s tone. “I find that hard to believe. You’re a beautiful woman, as I’m sure you’ve been told countless times.” “I recall your telling me that earlier this evening.” “Some things are worth repeating.” He backed the compliment with a smile. “And talented from what I’ve seen of your recent designs.” “You’ve seen my designs?” Mitch left his perch on the sofa to dig into a stack of magazines on the coffee table. When he

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found the one he wanted, he turned a few pages and briefly scanned the material before reading out loud. “Ms. Boston, born and raised here on the Island, shows distinctive talent and creativity as an up-andcoming designer of women’s lingerie. Her Intimately Yours Collection, primarily well-known in the Lowcountry of Charleston, has begun to garner attention from other markets along the east coast and is expected to give its competition a definite and seductive run for its money.” He tossed the magazine aside. “Does that answer your question?” “And yet you didn’t recognize me at my parents’ house.” “You have to consider this article is six months old, I had never met you before, and you did look rather like…” “I believe the term you used was jail bait.” “You’re not holding that against me, are you?” She flung aside the pillow and leaned forward on her elbows. “Already forgotten.” He grinned. “To the contrary, it seems.” “No, really. I’m not in the habit of holding grudges.” “Good to know. I’d hate to think our friendship was off to a rocky start.” “Is that what this is? A friendship?” “You tell me. You’re the one putting in a surprise appearance.” Harleigh didn’t try to defend herself. “You haven’t asked me to leave yet.” “And I think you know why I haven’t.” This time she sighed and announced shortly, “I came by to tell you I’m leaving tomorrow. Or today is more accurate.” Sharp disappointment sobered Mitch instantly. “So soon? I’m sure R.B. and Trish were hoping for a longer visit.” “I do have a business to run.” “No one to hold down the fort while you’re away?” “I have a partner. Beth. And she’s a gem of a seamstress. But being the sole designer, there are last minute details to iron out before my Spring line debuts.” Her chin tilted and she shot him a teasing grin. “Don’t tell me you’ll miss me when I’m gone?” The taunt barely left her lips when Mitch surprised them both by pulling her from the sofa and straight into his arms. “So this is goodbye? We’ve barely said hello.” His fingers threaded the thick strands of her hair, his gaze again drawn to the beauty of her green eyes. Eyes that blinked up at him with that same undefined quality as before. “What is it, Harleigh?” he asked softly. “If there’s more

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you want to say or do, it might interest you to know you’ve come to the right place.” She traced the outline of his mouth with the pad of her finger. “I have?” Mitch’s line of vision moved downward to focus on her mouth. Full-lipped and colored with wine, it parted in that age-old sign that said she wanted to be kissed. “Harleigh,” he muttered. “A woman doesn’t come to a man’s home in the middle of the night unless she has one thing on her mind.” His finger tipped her chin upward. “Look at me.” She easily obeyed, and he searched her face for any sign of hesitation. “It’s your move where we go from here.” She acted on his challenge by moving in so close the fibers of her sweater tickled the hair on his belly. “You started this when you kissed me tonight. It’s the real reason I’m here. I didn’t want the night to end.” She stared him squarely in the eye. “I didn’t want that kiss to end.” Her fragrant breath, a wisp of warm air, made her confession soft and inviting. Mitch’s hands spanned her waist, urging her forward, and he didn’t pull any punches. “I can’t promise to stop at a kiss. And there’s precious time left to run, Sweetheart. What happens now can’t be undone later.” “Who’s running?” Her butter-soft response coupled with a sweep of her tongue let him know exactly what she wanted. Mitch instantly complied by swooping down to capture her mouth fully, completely, and intimately with his own. His heart beat with such intensity, he half feared it would explode into a million pieces. He found everything about her exquisite. Her scent, her lips, her skin. He wanted to partake of every inch of her, and when she shifted against him, he let his instincts take over and steered them both toward the sofa. She went willingly when he pressed her down into the cushions and allowed his body to blanket hers. All coherent thought left him as need took over, need and desire for this woman who had entered his life so abruptly. And with such promise. He kissed her again, drawing her deeper and deeper into his mouth, losing himself in the sheer sensuality of their embrace. His mouth moved lower to blaze a trail of kisses along the curve of her jawbone to the scented hollow of her throat and beyond to the tender arena behind her ear. “Where the hell did you come from?” he murmured wonderingly, as though he couldn’t quite believe someone could affect him so fast. And so deeply. His hand skirted the hem of her sweater, moving upward until his fingers encountered warm, womanly flesh. Through the thin barrier of her bra, he rubbed his thumb across her nipple and felt it harden into submission. Harleigh’s quick intake of air inflamed his senses even more as his lips swooped again and again to possess hers. It rocked and delighted him that she kissed him back without restraint, seemingly without logic. His gut told him it had been a long time since she had known a man’s caresses, and he reveled in the pleasure of acknowledging her as a sensual and desirable woman. Even more so he

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wanted to feel her lose control, to savor and enjoy the passion and pleasure he instinctively knew they would share. “Mitch…wait…stop,” she breathed between gasps of air. She turned her head and suddenly a scream of disgust punctured the air. “What the hell is that smell?” Mitch jerked upward. “What…what’s wrong?” “God, what do you feed that animal?” Harleigh pushed at his chest and struggled to sit up. “I think I just had my sinuses vacuumed.” “What the hell…” Confused, Mitch stared first at the woman in his arms and saw Coby hulking mere inches from their heads. He bounded to his feet in seconds. “Coby! What are you doing here?” he barked, though his tone held little menace. “I didn’t call you downstairs.” Coby whined, a low, pitiful sound, as she cocked her head at her master. Sitting back on her haunches, she whined again and shot Harleigh a look intended to make her heart melt. It obviously worked. “Ah. It’s okay, girl,” Harleigh crooned. She reached out to scruff the Great Dane behind her ears. “Mitch, I think I hurt her feelings.” “She’s going to hurt somewhere else before the night is over,” Mitch complained, partly in jest, wholly in frustration. He didn’t bother to mention where he hurt. Harleigh swung her legs to the floor and straightened her sweater. “She’s protecting you.” “I wasn’t in any danger.” “But she doesn’t know me. She was just checking me out.” Mitch grunted. “So was I.” Harleigh laughed. “I think she did us both a favor.” “Forgive me if your logic escapes me.” “Things were moving too fast. If she hadn’t stopped us, I would have.” He whipped his hands through his hair and shuddered before bringing Harleigh to her feet. With her swollen lips and mussed hair, she exuded a blatant sexuality that nearly knocked him off his feet again. He pulled her into his embrace and gave a resigned groan. “You would have, would you?” “Yes,” she confessed, “although Coby appears to have better timing than I do.” “Some best friend she is.” Mitch kissed the tip of her nose. “Something tells me we’re back to saying goodbye.” She brushed the hair from her cheek and grinned up at him. “Why don’t we just say good night instead?”

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“You’re leaving tomorrow, remember?” “I have a cell phone.” “Really?” “Plus a pager and a fax machine.” Mitch’s eyes darkened. “You don’t say.” “Would you like my e-mail address?” This time he laughed. “I’ve always heard Hallmark says it best.” She studied him intently and rose up on her toes to press her mouth to his. “I better go. I need sleep if I’m going to get an early start home.” With that, she stepped from the circle of his arms, taking a moment to give Coby a final pat on her head. “Thanks, girl, for the timely intervention. Next time I come I’ll bring you a bone. Hopefully, one with peppermint.” “Stay, Coby,” Mitch commanded sternly before following Harleigh to the foyer. He watched silently while she retrieved her jacket. She slipped her arms inside and zipped up the front. She eased past him, her hand reaching for the doorknob. “Harleigh?” She turned back to face him, her brow lifting in silent inquiry. I don’t want to let you go. The realization pierced his brain, but he reached out and straightened one flap of her collar. “Have a safe trip home,” he said quietly. “Thanks.” “You’re sure you’re okay to drive?” She held out one hand and mimicked his words. “Steady as a rock.” When she seemed in no hurry to leave, he fought the urge to take her in his arms again and kiss her one more time. “Good night,” he finally said. “Good night.” Shivering against the blast of cold air when she opened the door, she gave him a final smile over her shoulder and was gone. Before heading back upstairs, Mitch found himself committing to memory the color of Harleigh’s eyes, the way her lashes feathered at the corners, the slightly crooked tilt of her nose. Retracing his steps to the den, he grabbed the wine bottle and lamented the long night ahead.

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Chapter Three

“Damn her!” Mitch’s muttered curse came right on the heels of yet another failed hook shot. He pinched the bridge of his nose and cursed again for having wasted the better part of an hour pummeling his trash can with wads of perfectly good graph paper. Why the hell hasn’t she called? He slammed his fist on his desk and stood up with enough vehemence to send his chair rolling backward. Only the telephone ringing saved him from clearing the surface of his desk with one sweep of his arm. “Hello!” he barked, whipping a frustrated hand through his hair. “Mitch?” The feminine voice on the other end sobered him instantly. “Harleigh?” “Will her mother do instead?” Mitch grimaced at his telltale slip. “Oh. Hey, Trish. What’s up?” “Apparently my intuition.” He didn’t respond, prompting Trish to chuckle softly. “Hint taken. So how about coming to dinner tonight? We haven’t seen you since the party. Unless you count the morning paper.” Mitch retrieved his chair and resumed his earlier position. “You saw the piece about Denver?” “We did,” Trish replied with due admiration. “The high school band was a nice touch.” “That was a first,” Mitch remarked with modest enthusiasm.

“Usually ground-breaking

ceremonies are fairly predictable, but I think the entire town was there for the grand opening.” “The article said you spent almost a year and a half on that course.” “Yeah, it was a bear of a construction, but the final project exceeded even my expectations. I wanted it to be the consummate public golf course and I’m happy to say that’s what the townsfolk got.” “Time for a little down time, now?” He gave a short laugh. “That’s what I’ve been doing since the job was completed. And while I’ve enjoyed hitting the links with that competitive husband of yours, too much time on my hands doesn’t bode well for the brain, if you know what I mean.” Trish reiterated her invitation. “All the more reason you should come over before you get involved in something new. Everyone will be here. Except Harleigh, of course. How about it?” At the mention of Harleigh’s name, Mitch frowned, in no mood to spend an evening listening to

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tales of the one person responsible for his current state of mind. “Sorry, Trish, I’d love to, but I’ve already got something in the works. I’m heading up north to scope out new construction sites before cold weather sets in and I have a slew of phone calls to make.” Guiltily, he wondered if Trish saw through his lame excuse for passing on one of her famous home-cooked meals. To her credit, she remained the perfect hostess. “I’ll let you off the hook this time, but please promise you’ll stop in soon. R.B. shot his first eagle in years and he’s dying to crow to someone who can fully appreciate it.” Mitch laughed, this time the sound genuine.

“That’s a promise.

And tell him I said

congratulations.” He hung up the phone, his mood lightened somewhat. But, moments later, a loud knock on the door put the scowl back on his face. He glanced up to see his raven-haired secretary peeking through the opening. “Sorry to interrupt, Mitch, but there’s a gentleman out here who would like to see you.” “Liz, I told you I didn’t want to be disturbed.” He crinkled up a piece of paper and took aim with another hook shot. “Tell him to come back later when I’m not so busy.” His loyal assistant waited patiently until the missile landed smack in the center of an ivy plant. “Are you sure? He says it’s pretty important.” “Important to whom?” Listening with half an ear, Mitch decided this time he’d try a hook to the right. Liz cleared her throat. “To you.” “How so?” “He claims he wants to buy some of your fiancée’s underwear.”

***

Harleigh eyed the sketchbook in her lap without a trace of enthusiasm. It had taken her two hours and twenty minutes to create what was supposed to be a sexy, lust-inducing teddy in the finest silk. Somewhere she had missed her mark. The charcoal drawn model resembled a stick figure decked out in the gaudiest offering from the nearest five and dime, giving the artist reason to want to fling the book into the back corners of oblivion. At least there it could vegetate alongside her imagination. For the moment, she’d have to be satisfied with simply slamming it down on her desk while she paced back and forth and wore holes in the carpet. Mitch.

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She couldn’t stop thinking about him. More than a week since she’d seen him and still she couldn’t pick up the phone to call him. Or fax him. Or e-mail him. And if he thought Hallmark said it best, she doubted she’d ever find a card that could appropriately condone her latest behavior. What in the world had ever possessed her to do it again? Only this time she had done it with someone she couldn’t easily explain away. Not that it would ever come back to haunt her. Mitch would never find out. So why did she find it so difficult to call him? She knew why. Guilt could be a worthy opponent, and she felt plenty of it at the moment. Mitch had been a good sport about her joking with her brothers that he would make great husband material with a bank account large enough to fund her lingerie line. But would his sense of humor prevail if he knew she had pretended to be his fiancée as the result of a totally unexpected telephone call? And would he be quite so magnanimous to learn she had fabricated a tale of how her fiancé was indeed the financial backer for her latest non-existent silky bedtime creations? Logically, what else could she have done? Though her trip to Vegas wasn’t so long ago, she had completely forgotten all about the jerk who had followed her around like some dog in heat, spouting obnoxious promises of how good they could be together and how he would love the chance to show her what a real man could do for her. He had even gone to such lengths as to try and entice her with promises of giving her free rein to design for his lingerie company, an idea that would have intrigued and delighted her had it not come from the mouth of such a lecherous and obvious player. But he had called out of the blue, had actually traced her down to Charleston, again offering her an opportunity of a lifetime if he could have just one night alone with her. She had wanted nothing more than to tell him exactly where he could shove his lurid proposition. Instead, she had concocted an elaborate tale of being engaged to Mitch Brannigan who not only would be bankrolling her new Intimately Yours Lingerie Collection, but who was also the only man to whom she’d ever be giving herself, body and soul. She gave a heavy sigh, and wondered at her knack for spinning tall tales as purely a defense mechanism. Admittedly, it had spooked her greatly that the deviate from Vegas had been able to track her down with little effort. She had needed something, or someone, to come to her rescue. Mitch had fit the bill quite nicely, due in large measure to her obvious attraction to him. But her basic sense of honor now threatened to get the best of her, and she felt tremendous guilt for having lied to defend herself at Mitch’s unsuspecting expense. Not that she had acted with any degree of stability since meeting the man. From the moment of their encounter at her parents’ house, her behavior had been quite the opposite, culminating with a

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personal house call at two o’clock in the morning all because she couldn’t let the memory of one kiss go. “And he didn’t help matters by greeting me half naked at the door!” “Who was naked?” Harleigh jumped, not realizing she’d spoken out loud until she turned and almost connected head first with a bolt of Belgian lace carried by a slender brunette in khakis and white shirt. “Oops, sorry about that.” Beth Reed, her closest friend and business partner for the past three years, placed her bundle on a worktable and eyed Harleigh expectantly. “Come on, give. Who was naked?” Harleigh rubbed her temples. “No one was naked.” Beth begged to differ. “But I distinctly heard you say…” “I was talking to myself. You shouldn’t have been listening. And besides, I said half-naked.” “That works, too. So tell me. I want to know all the juicy details.” Beth’s dark curls bounced as she plopped down in a chair with obvious intention of going nowhere until she got the scoop. “And after you’ve satisfied my insatiable need for dirt, I want to know why I wasn’t invited to the party?” Harleigh gave a resigned sigh, feeling summarily trapped. If she had learned anything from working alongside the spirited Beth, it was the latter’s fondness for good, old-fashioned gossip. And the only way she, Harleigh, would make it home at a decent hour would be to give a minute-by-minute by­ play from her introduction to Mitch to the events that unfolded in his living room. An all-out confession would serve her best. Otherwise, Beth would see right through her. And, besides, if she didn’t confide in someone, she’d go mad. And she wouldn’t go quietly. Giving in to her friend’s demand for details, she offered her rapt audience just that, ending with a certain canine’s timely intervention before she had lost her head completely. When she finished, it took less than two seconds to get a reaction.

Beth shot up from her perch, her brown eyes twinkling with

passionate outrage. “I say we kill the dog!” “Down, girl.

You’re talking about Mitch’s best friend.

Coby was simply protecting her

territory.” Beth scoffed. “And all at your expense, don’t you know. Although I guess I can’t blame her. I wouldn’t want to share that man with anyone either.” “He’s just a man,” Harleigh returned, “albeit a gorgeous one.” “Just a man!” Beth repeated the words with vehemence and sighed. “Mitch Brannigan isn’t just a man, Harleigh. He’s the complete package, and any female with half a brain, canine or otherwise, would know someone like him comes along once in a lifetime and if she had any sense at all, she’d grab

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him and run like hell while she had the chance.” Harleigh’s eyes mirrored her confusion. “What would you know about Mitch? It hasn’t been twenty minutes since I mentioned his name to you for the first time.” “You’re kidding, right?” Beth marveled at the lack of recognition on her partner’s face. “Oh, my God, you don’t even know who it was you were kissing!” The realization had her visibly doubting her friend’s intelligence, and trying not to laugh.

“This is not funny,” Harleigh snapped. “I barely

know him is right, and yet I show up on his doorstep at some ungodly hour and end up practically making love with him on the first night we meet.” “It doesn’t sound like he minded.” “I feel like I’ve made a complete fool of myself with a man my father happens to think walks on water. If he ever finds out…” “Girlfriend…that is the least of your worries!” “Beth, you’re not listening to me. What happens when I run into him again?” “Isn’t that what you want?” “Of course. But what if he thinks I deliberately tried to seduce him, but cut him off at the knees?” “I’d say you cut him off a little higher.” Beth’s droll observation went unchecked as Harleigh resumed her pacing. “Mom and Dad have practically adopted the man. Three sons aren’t enough. They need one more. What am I supposed to do, avoid family dinners for the rest of my life?” Only after the fact did she realize Beth had steered her toward the sofa and gently, but firmly, pushed her into it. A magazine placed in her hands proved more effective in diverting her attention. “What is this?” “The latest edition of On Course Magazine.” Harleigh’s blank stare resulted in a resigned shrug from Beth. “Josh has been after me to learn how to play so he won’t feel guilty about leaving me alone on weekends. But the real fun’s on page eighty-nine. Take a look.” Harleigh obeyed, her feminine eye instantaneously admiring the classic handsomeness of the male subject smiling back at her. It took even less time for the explosion of dread inside the cavity of her stomach. She scanned the article, the well-written words neatly and precisely underscoring her growing unease. “Oh, my God.” She rose from the sofa slowly, her eyes darting to Beth to plead that her eyes deceived her.

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But Beth could only nod sympathetically. “That about sums it up.” “I had no idea.” “You do now.” Harleigh reluctantly looked back at the picture. Mitch, no doubt about it. And in Technicolor. She couldn’t have made a fool of herself with a man who enjoyed an occasional tee time with her father. No, she had to save that particular talent for someone seemingly brimming over with not just a lot of money, but power and friends in high places. She dropped her face in her hands and groaned, for the first time genuinely remorseful for her impulsive nature. The fingers kneading her shoulder blades were soothing, but provided little comfort. “Keep your chin up,” Beth attempted to placate her. “There are worse things that could happen. Tomorrow will be a brighter day and in time you’ll feel better. You might even look back on this day with a certain fondness, having no doubt learned what road never to travel down again.” A moment of pained silence passed between the two friends before they both broke into peals of laughter. Harleigh recovered first. “From what book did you get those pearls of wisdom? How to Convince Yourself You’re Not Stupid, Just Misguided?” Beth grinned. “At least you haven’t lost your sense of humor.” She paused and added with a hint of mischievousness, “so what if he thinks you were out looking for a hot time and got cold feet.” Harleigh looked appropriately chagrined. “Can I help it if I thought he was hot? And it’s been so long since…,”she sighed, letting her sentence trail off. Beth’s eyes flashed with sympathy. “Since you’ve had mind-blowing, earth-shattering, all up-inyour-toes sex?” Harleigh responded with a good-natured pout. “Always so eloquent with words, Beth. But yes, since I’ve had just that. And, you know, no disrespect to Daddy’s friends, but when he talked about Mitch Brannigan, I always pictured a man with big ears, sagging jowls, and hair growing out of his nostrils.” She sighed again. “I mean, I knew he had money and Daddy mentioned he was involved in several ventures. But, I thought he meant like the Geriatric Golfer’s Society or something. How was I supposed to know the real Mitch Brannigan would turn out to be a sexy, gorgeous, independently wealthy business tycoon who just happens to, as a hobby, mind you, design golf courses all over the world?” Beth gave a hapless shrug. “I’d say you’ve hit the jackpot.” Harleigh groaned. “To know what kind of woman he thinks I am.” She elected not to mention

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the unsettling telephone call with Mr. Vegas and her gross manipulation of Mitch’s identity. She could handle Beth thinking of her as sexually frustrated, but not intentionally lying to someone for her own personal gain. Beth didn’t share Harleigh’s sense of doom. “What are you so worried about? You’re thirty years old, Harleigh. So your libido was working overtime. Nothing wrong with going after what you want. And, besides, like you said, if it hadn’t been for that overprotective canine’s liver breath, you wouldn’t have let things go any further than they did.” “I think it was beef, not liver.” “Whatever. I’m sure you would have come to your senses and changed gears to something far less exciting. Like talking about his birds and putters.” “Birdies.” “What?” “It’s birdies,” Harleigh absently corrected, “not birds.” Beth rolled her eyes. “I don’t care if it’s pigeons or chickens. The point is, you’re perfectly entitled to embrace your feminine needs and all the better for you that the yummy Mitch seemed perfectly ready, willing, and able to oblige the lady.” A telephone rang in the adjoining room, pulling Beth’s head around. “Let’s hope that’s the convention center begging us to show your designs at their next bridal show.” With an impish grin over her shoulder, she winked. “Better yet, I hope it’s Josh with wicked promises of helping me embrace my feminine needs tonight!” Harleigh watched her friend go and smiled. She felt somewhat better than before. Beth made perfect sense. Why should Mitch think badly of her? They had shared an undeniable attraction to one another and he had been as willing a participant as she, leaving her with no reason to feel guilty or ashamed. And, if and when she found herself sitting across the dinner table from him, she’d let him know in no uncertain terms she wanted to explore their mutual attraction further. If he put on the brakes, so be it. Like Beth said in her own inimitable way, worse things could happen.

***

“There you go, Mr. Wyatt.” Beth handed over the lavender and white gift bag to her male customer. She planted a big smile on her face, her friendliest all day. “And don’t forget our holiday line will be out next week. I expect to see you here bright and early.” Only when he was safely out of

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earshot did she turn to Harleigh, busily straightening bras on the sales rack. “Over four hundred dollars from one sale, Har!” Harleigh glanced up with a satisfied smile. “I know. He must have bought a gown in every color.” Beth removed the register drawer and bagged up the day’s receipts. “The question is, for whom did he purchase them?” Harleigh pulled a face. “He was wearing a wedding ring. You think maybe his wife?” Beth snorted. “You’re spending too much time with your pastels and too little time in the real world. Otherwise you’d know that Mrs. Wyatt was in here yesterday and bought that crimson velour robe.” “So?” “So she bought it in a size sixteen and it was a perfect fit. The goodies Mr. Wyatt bought were a size four.” Harleigh suppressed a giggle, electing not to pass judgment on a well-paying customer. Instead, she assured Beth she would close up so Beth could hurry home to prepare for her hot date with Josh. She indulged in a moment of self-pity that channel surfing would provide the only activity on her agenda tonight. But the moment passed and she went through the nightly ritual of closing up shop and preparing for the next day’s business. Reaching underneath the counter to retrieve her purse, she heard a bell ringing that signaled a new arrival. “I’m sorry, but we’re closed.” She didn’t bother to look up as she searched for her car keys. “You’ll have to come back in the morning.” “Hello, Harleigh.” Harleigh’s hand froze inside her leather bag. Her mouth fell open and her head shot upward as she felt her insides rush with delight at seeing him again. Unfortunately, the feeling didn’t appear to be mutual. The man staring back at her, so familiar, so impossibly handsome, didn’t exactly exude a great deal of warmth. Or welcome. In fact, he looked downright ominous. Could this possibly be the same man she had almost made love with a mere week ago? “Mitch.” Involuntarily, her eyes drank in the sight of him. From the broad shoulders encased in black leather to the wool sweater and tailored slacks, to the tasseled slip-ons, he epitomized style and masculinity. She wondered if the man ever left the house in a pair of jeans. Tall, refined, well bred, he presented the complete package. The notion brought a smile to her face, but the grave look on Mitch’s effectively erased it, bringing her silent appraisal to an end. “You’re the last person I expected to see tonight.” She stated the obvious. “What brings you by?”

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Her attempt at flippancy fell flat. Mitch merely pocketed his gloves and spared her a cursory glance. He seemed more interested in his surroundings than the company, moving around the shop with the same air of authority that General Patton must have inspected his troops. Harleigh watched as he fingered the embroidered neckline of a pair of satin pajamas, the delicate confection a sharp contrast to the tanned masculine hand touching it. The pajamas were a particular favorite of hers, and she owned them in several colors. With a start, she imagined that same hand touching…and caressing a pair with her in them. His continued silence began to gnaw at her patience. “Hello? Have you lost your voice, or are you deliberately trying to unnerve me?” That got his attention and he finally halted in front of her. His steely gaze seemed to bore holes through her middle. “You look tired.” It was the last thing she expected him to say. “Still burning the midnight oil?” She shrugged. “A hard habit to break.” “The woman who just left, your last customer?” “No, that was Beth. My partner.” “Then you’re alone?” Harleigh manufactured a laugh. “Not any more.” His expression remained unchanged. She looked at him strangely. “Mitch, what is up with you? What’s going on?” “What do you mean?” “You don’t seem happy to see me.” “Should I?” he asked cryptically. “I know I haven’t called, and there’s a reason for that. I just need a little time to come up with one.” She gave him what she hoped passed for an irresistible smile of apology. “I find that hard to believe.” “Excuse me?” “Since when are you ever at a loss for words? I’d say you have quite a knack for exercising that imagination of yours.” Confusion, and no small amount of annoyance, ignited Harleigh’s quick tongue. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re making about as much sense as my checkbook.” She purposely moved around the opposite side of the counter to put distance between them. An odd reaction considering she hadn’t been able to think about anything but him for the last week. The front bell rang, but before she could identify her customer, she found herself ensnared between a full-figured mannequin draped in

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blue satin and Mitch’s arms of steel. “What…what are you doing?” she sputtered. “Play along with me. We’ll get to the bottom of this later.” Her cry of protest faltered beneath the onslaught of his mouth as it came crashing down on hers. The room started to spin, and Harleigh feared her teeth would literally snap, but the drug of Mitch’s unexpected kiss sent her soaring and she didn’t even think of fighting him. Instead, she found herself holding on to him for dear life, absorbing his strength, his scent, his sheer vitality, and kissing him back with fervor and hunger. She had longed for this man, dreamed of him. And she couldn’t begin to describe the ultimate joy of having him in her arms again. Illogically, she decided he could talk in forked tongue all night as long as he never stopped this unbridled assault on her senses. The distinct male cough barely penetrated Harleigh’s sensual fog, but the deep rumble of familiar laughter effectively doused it. “Harleigh, Sweetheart,”” she heard Mitch say. “I think we’re busted.” Dazed and confused, it slowly dawned on her that she and Mitch were no longer alone. She focused first on Mitch, then on the face of a man she had never seen before. He stood a mere foot away, hands buried in the pockets of his trench coat, his eyes hidden beneath the brim of his hat. Uncertainty clouded Harleigh’s brain when the stranger’s hand lifted, and she unconsciously moved closer to Mitch’s side. But the man simply removed his hat to reveal a shock of wavy hair and a pair of golden eyes, eyes that warmly and invitingly fixed on her. At Harleigh’s obvious confusion, he grinned and shot Mitch a look that clearly labeled him harmless. “Forgive me for interrupting,” he spoke in smooth, cultured tones. “I wanted to give the two of you some well-deserved time alone, but it was a little nippy out there standing on the sidewalk.” The undeniable shiver raking his form seemed to validate his claim. “Think nothing of it, Jason,” Mitch stated, pulling a still silent and thoroughly befuddled Harleigh against his side. She peered up at him, the blue intensity of his gaze seeming to dare her not to refute his next words. “Harleigh and I have all night to get reacquainted.” The man named Jason stuck out his hand, which Harleigh found herself blindly accepting. “Harleigh, it’s wonderful to finally meet you. Mitch has had nothing but glowing words to say about his fiancée.” Fiancée? Did he say fiancée?

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Harleigh swallowed, feeling like she had just stepped into the Twilight Zone. What the hell was this man talking about? More importantly, what was Mitch talking about? Beside her, Mitch chuckled again, tipping Harleigh’s chin to place a light kiss on her mouth. “My bride-to-be is still a little shy, Jason. But once you get to know her, it’s quite impossible to shut her up.” “I understand perfectly. But I apologize again for ruining your reunion. I hope you’ll forgive me.” He spoke directly to her and a pinch from Mitch cued her to respond in kind. “Of…of…course,” Harleigh stammered, “no harm done, Mr…?” “Lightner. But please, call me Jason.” Harleigh inclined her head, still dazed. “Okay, Jason it is.” Now, who the hell are you? The words nearly burst from her lips, but, remembering Mitch’s demand, no, threat, that she play along, she stepped into the hostess mode Trish had drilled into her from an early age. “I’m sorry if I seem a little distracted. Mitch took me by surprise. I wasn’t expecting to see my...fiancé…again so soon.” Her words sounded absurd even to her own ears, and, yet, Jason nodded as though he understood completely. “Mitch explained on the flight here how busy you are putting the final touches on your new collection, and his wanting to give you the space you need to accomplish your task. And while I admire his fortitude, I’m not sure I could leave my bride-to-be alone for too long. Especially one as lovely as you.” Harleigh had the grace to blush, though not from the compliment. What was this man babbling about? “Thank you, Jason, what a lovely thing to say. But that’s Mitch for you. Always so thoughtful and considerate of my feelings.” She gave her “husband-to-be” a smile to appropriately demonstrate her gratitude. “Still,” Jason insisted, “if I may be so bold, it must make for some very lonely nights.” Harleigh perfected a look of resigned longing. “I cry into my pillow every night.” Silently, Harleigh almost applauded her performance. She could be quick when she needed to be, and this was obviously one of those occasions. She wondered if Mitch fully appreciated the irony of her words? Better yet, she hoped her appearance would alleviate some of his as yet to be explained anger toward her. Though she had no idea he would put in a surprise appearance tonight, she thanked her lucky stars she had taken great pains with her appearance. She had worn her navy suit with her favorite lacy under-blouse and had curled her hair until it fell in soft waves across her shoulders. The only part of her appearance that might deter him from finding her attractive would be the war between

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shock, confusion, even guilt in the look she gave him from the moment he walked through the door. And if he noticed her eyes had turned to jade, he’d know soon enough many considered that her battle color. A peculiar thrill grazed her rib cage at the thought of doing battle with Mitch on a regular basis. “What do you say, Mitch? I understand the local cuisine is some of the best in the country.” At the mention of Mitch’s name, Harleigh glanced at him and knew immediately he had been watching her. Finding himself the focus of two sets of eyes had obviously caught him off guard. “Sorry, Jason, but when Harleigh’s in the room, it’s hard to keep my mind on anything else. What were you saying?” Jason threw his head back and laughed heartily, while the object of Mitch’s “affection” had to restrain herself from checking his temperature. “That’s quite all right. I was simply taking Harleigh up on her suggestion to sample your Lowcountry cooking.” “You remember Maggie’s Café, don’t you, Sweetheart?” Harleigh hooked Mitch’s elbow and smiled sweetly up at him. “We went there on our first date. You declared it our own special place in Charleston, so I think it only right that we share it with Jason.” Less than an hour ago, Harleigh had envisioned the only entertainment for the night to be backto-back sitcoms and air-popped popcorn.

Until Mitch arrived, in living, breathing Technicolor,

professing to be her fiancé to a total stranger and convincingly acting the part. As for Jason, she didn’t have a clue as to his real identity, where he came from, why he arrived with Mitch, and why he acknowledged them as an engaged couple when they barely knew one another. She could barely comprehend the events unfolding, and, for the moment, she didn’t know where the next few hours would lead. But with two exceedingly handsome men in tow, and the undeniably thrilling prospect of an evening with Mitch, she decided her current situation far exceeded the appeal of must-see TV! Oh, Beth! Whatever you and Josh are doing, it can’t be nearly as delicious as this!

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Chapter Four

Half-way through their main course, Harleigh had a mind to revise her thinking. The food at Maggie’s Café consistently satisfied one’s palate, but the topic of conversation turned to one that quickly left an unpleasant taste in her mouth. The evening started off well enough when, over cocktails, she discovered that Jason Lightner and Mitch had roomed together over fifteen years ago during their senior year at UCLA where each had majored in business and finance. It came as no surprise to learn that Mitch, a member of Sigma Phi Epsilon, had also served as President of the Senior Class and enjoyed considerable notoriety as the star athlete for football, basketball, and golf. The On Course article listed all of those statistics along with a detailed list of his many other accomplishments, all of which she already committed to memory. But Jason’s recounting of his collegiate years provided the evening’s prelude to disaster. As an honors student with little athletic ability and, by Jason’s own admission, a reputation for being more nerd than stud, he had both her and Mitch doubled over at his less than successful efforts to win the attentions of a certain well-endowed cheerleader. Harleigh used her napkin to wipe away the tears of mirth at the same time her eyes connected with Mitch’s across the table. For a brief moment, just the two of them occupied the room, their gazes locking in something not yet definable. The smile died on her lips and she swore she saw his eyes soften, ever so slightly. But the spell broke when, between mouthfuls of salmon, Jason concluded, “Valerie was quite appealing. But, alas, it seemed she favored brawn over brains.” Oddly, Harleigh found herself commiserating with the unknown Valerie. Everything about Jason screamed taste and class in their highest form, proof enough that the lady possessed a mere smidgeon of intelligence. An observation Harleigh didn’t hesitate to share in just those words. “I would imagine,” she went on, “that she rues the day she passed on becoming Mrs. Jason Lightner.” “From what I hear, I’ll bet Sam does, too.” Mitch’s muffled comment halted her fork in mid-air, and Harleigh furrowed her brow at him. “Excuse me? Who is Sam?” “My younger brother,” came Jason’s matter-of-fact response. “His brawn won over my brains.” “Which makes Valerie Jason’s sister-in-law.” Harleigh made the connection immediately, rendering Mitch’s contribution unnecessary. And yet, his obvious efforts to check his amusement at the horror on her face triggered an urge to shove a

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Brussels sprout up his nose. “Ex-sister-in-law,” Jason amended. “They’re divorced now.” For her part, the lady in distress wanted to slither on all fours to the nearest exit. Jason, however, didn’t seem in the least offended. “Sam is, for all intents and purposes, a good sort if you overlook that he’s lazy, misguided, and totally concerned with his own pleasures in life. Quite frankly, he and Valerie deserved one another.” “Still,” Harleigh offered lamely. “I shouldn’t have said what I did about her lack of… I simply didn’t know…and I certainly didn’t mean to imply that your brother…” “Nonsense. After Sam’s deplorable behavior with you the other night on the telephone, you’re entitled to have a less than favorable opinion of him.” Jason shook his head. “And with you and Mitch newly engaged, no less.” Harleigh felt her baby peas suddenly clog up her air passages. And she had a sick feeling of just having been caught red-handed, though for the life of her she couldn’t quite put the pieces together yet. She reached for her water glass and drained the contents in a single gulp, hoping she didn’t look as green as she felt. She purposefully avoided looking at Mitch while her brain performed a quick rewind to one unfortunate phone call. She thought her tale of being Mitch Brannigan’s fiancée and having her upcoming collection funded by the man she intended to marry had chased the lizard from Vegas away. But Jason’s words clearly dispelled that misconception. “Telephone call?” The words came out in barely a croak. Jason nodded. “I can’t apologize enough to you for my brother’s behavior.” “You’re telling me that…that man on the telephone was your brother?” “I’m afraid so. We may come from the same genes, but I won’t protect him. Or make excuses for his actions.” Jason cleared his throat with a note of regret. “Although he did redeem himself somewhat by confessing his behavior toward you, both in Vegas and over the phone.” Harleigh sat in stunned silence before allowing with no small degree of incredulity, “This is unbelievable. I mean, consider the odds.” “I know. Small world.” “But I’m still confused. How do you even know about Vegas? Or the telephone call? How do you know I was the woman?” “I told him.” Harleigh’s eyes speared Mitch with genuine horror. “You know you tell me everything, Sweetheart.” He caressed her hand in an intimate gesture. “I felt honor bound to offer some support since I wasn’t there to protect you in Vegas.”

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To her credit, Harleigh recovered quickly, a shaky laugh the only sign Mitch’s announcement had staggered her. “Of course. I know how you love playing my hero.” “It’s more accurate to say Mitch simply confirmed it.” Jason wiped the corners of his mouth and neatly placed his napkin alongside his plate. “You see, I own a string of department stores throughout the state of California. My buyer for women’s apparel was busy with other projects, so I sent Sam in her place to attend the Vegas show for reasons I’ll explain shortly. However, it appears my wayward brother was more interested in trying to sell himself to a young designer he met in Vegas and whom he described as ‘blond, sexy, and lethal’.” “But I never told your brother I was a designer. Quite frankly, and with all due respect, I spent most of my time trying to evade his obnoxious presence.” Jason grimaced and gave a hapless shrug. “He checked the guest list after you left. He can be very resourceful when it suits his needs, and his ego couldn’t process that a beautiful woman actually rebuffed him.” “Can’t say I blame him.” Mitch squeezed Harleigh’s hand to again gain her attention. “And I certainly can’t hold Sam accountable for thinking my fiancée sexy and beautiful.” He maintained possession of her hand, injecting the right amount of pride in extolling her virtues. “Perhaps his mechanics need polishing, and had I not allowed her to talk me into staying in Hilton Head so she could work on her designs, I could have answered the phone instead and told him exactly what he could do with his rebuffed ego. Though, frankly, Sam was undoubtedly the one in need of protection since Harleigh is and always has been quite capable of taking care of herself.” He kissed her knuckles, the warmth not quite reaching the gaze he sent her way. A fact not lost on Harleigh. “Isn’t that right, Sweetheart? A man always knows exactly where he stands with you.” A clueless Jason missed the subtle by-play.

“Well, Sam’s imprudence has given me two

unexpected bonuses. Number one, imagine my delight to hear that the one woman impervious to Sam’s charm was engaged to a man named Mitch Brannigan, the same name as my old college buddy. There was no doubt in my mind they were one and the same.” “And now here we are.” Mitch grinned. “Yes,” Jason agreed. “Here we are after all these years, thanks to my unscrupulous kid brother.” Harleigh’s insides rankled with guilt that Mitch continued to cover for her. But she listened to their exchange with as much curiosity as disbelief, surprising herself by asking, “I still don’t understand how the two of you hooked up again.” She couldn’t deny the evening’s events grew wilder by the minute.

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“You made it happen,” Jason easily responded, “when you told Sam you’re Mitch Brannigan’s fiancée.” This time she visibly blanched, while out of the corner of her eye she again saw a hint of amusement cross Mitch’s face. God, she wished she could read his mind. Instead, she listened as Jason continued. “The name was immediately familiar to me, and it seems old Mitch here has made quite a name for himself. It was child’s play going on-line to locate him. I always knew he’d become a walking conglomerate, but the success of his golf courses clinched it for me when I saw the recent newspaper article about the course in Denver. It took no time at all to track him down to his office in Hilton Head.” “Imagine my surprise when Jason showed up demanding to see my fiancée’s underwear!” The two men laughed in unison while Harleigh read between the lines of Mitch’s meaningful stare. Finding out about a bogus engagement, and to her of all people, had to have been the biggest shock to come his way in a long time. And, yet, he played the part of a loving fiancé both willingly and convincingly. The realization had her struggling with several unanswered questions. Primarily, why would Mitch go along with posing as her fiancé? Why not expose her as a fraud in his own defense? And why would he go to all the trouble to bring Jason to Charleston to meet her? If only to allow Jason to apologize personally for his brother’s behavior, he needn’t have bothered. She couldn’t even remember what Sam looked like, much less be concerned about one phone call. Unless… Harleigh’s mind raced frantically. Could this be Mitch’s way of exacting his revenge? Instead of merely telling Jason they weren’t engaged, perhaps he wanted to do it in her presence. Embarrass her as she undoubtedly embarrassed him. And who better to do it with than an old college chum, after which they could laugh and chalk up another tale to embellish on for years to come? Some of her uneasiness must have shown, and surprisingly, Mitch addressed it. “I think we’ve kept the lady waiting long enough, Jason. Don’t you think it’s time we tell her the real reason you’re here?” “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” Jason proclaimed. “One reason being I have an early flight back to L.A. in the morning and I need my six hours. And secondly, I know how anxious you both must be to enjoy a proper reunion.” Reaching into his jacket, he extracted his wallet and placed a business card in Harleigh’s palm. She held it up for inspection, noting the name Lightner’s emblazoned in gold lettering. “I don’t understand.”

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“My card,” he said unnecessarily. “So you’ll know where to reach me. My wife, Abby, and I are brand new parents of a baby girl.” His face broke into a proud grin. “Her name is Riley Nicole, and she weighed in at six pounds, thirteen ounces. Hence my desire to get home as soon as possible.” Harleigh felt comfortable enough with Jason to tease him. “I’m glad Valerie didn’t sour you on marriage.” He laughed. “Not at all. Abby is in a class all by herself.” “Congratulations on your new daughter,” Harleigh said sincerely. “But what does any of this have to do with me?” Jason leaned forward and, without deliberation, declared, “I’m looking for someone to design a line of maternity lingerie for my stores.” Harleigh’s eyes widened. “You mean Sam’s offer was a bona fide one?” Jason winced. “I’m not exactly sure what Sam offered you, but my offer is absolutely on the level. Throughout Abby’s pregnancy, she was, shall we say, less than enthralled with the selection of cotton gowns and pajamas being sold in today’s market. She’s a great lover of silks and satins and yet could never find anything in the lingerie departments to complement her burgeoning waistline, take her mind off of her swollen ankles, and, as she says, still make her feel sexy and beautiful. All of which, I’m sure, gives you some idea where this is leading.” “It might.”

Anticipation stirred inside Harleigh.

If Jason planned, as she suspected, to

commission her services to design his line, she knew her answer without hesitation. It presented an inspired idea, and one she could easily tackle with a great deal of enthusiasm. For a split second, she even said a silent thank you to Sam for tracking her down in the first place. “I’m not looking for just anyone, Harleigh. I want you.” Before he gave her a chance to respond, Jason continued, “I know Mitch was planning to finance your next collection, but that, of course, won’t be necessary if you agree to work for me.” Oh, God, there it is again. Mitch’s money. Harleigh inwardly winced. Because of her machinations, Jason believed Mitch to be her fiancé as well as the backer for her next collection of lingerie. First her brothers, now the nefarious Sam seemed to be conspiring to portray her as a scheming liar. Of course, she conveniently dismissed her role in the misconception. She hesitated with a quick glance at Mitch who gave no indication of his thoughts. “I’m more flattered than I can say, Jason,” she offered, “not to mention more than a little interested. But why me? There are so many other designers out there with more experience, bigger clientele.”

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“Perhaps,” Jason conceded. “But, notwithstanding the fact that none of them are engaged to Mitch, you also possess all of the qualities I envision it will take to create a truly remarkable collection. Youth, beauty, energy. I did my homework. Your designs prove that your talent and creativity are unquestionable. Isn’t that right, Mitch?” “Right on all counts,” Mitch readily agreed. “But let’s not forget one other little perk in Harleigh’s favor.” Harleigh eyed Mitch’s sudden alacrity with suspicion. “And what might that be?” “Who better to design maternity lingerie than the only woman in the world I want to bear my children?” Rising from his chair, he encircled the table and pulled a shell-shocked Harleigh to the floor. With one arm wrapped protectively around her shoulder, he gently patted her stomach and flashed his friend a winning smile. “Perhaps after our reunion tonight, I may just get my wish.”

***

Harleigh sunk against the door and closed her eyes, finding little solace in the fingertips massaging her temples. She muttered something unintelligible beneath her breath, trying in vain to dismiss the presence of the man standing obtrusively in the foyer. Until his deafening silence could no longer be ignored. Her fingers ceased, and her lids fluttered open to see the unmistakable censure in Mitch’s gaze. He looked as though he could cheerfully strangle her. She straightened beneath his cool scrutiny. “Was it necessary for you to follow me home?” “Yes.” His clipped response didn’t bode well. “It was rude to leave Jason to his own devices.” His expression didn’t falter. “He’s a big boy. He didn’t need me to hold his hand.” “No, but considering you haven’t seen each other in so long…” “You forget, he thinks you and I are due the reunion.” Harleigh sidestepped responsibility. “Who wouldn’t after the way you tried to devour me at the shop earlier?” “I seem to recall you played along quite willingly.” He divested himself of his jacket, hooking it on the wall next to hers before again slicing her with reproach. “And you’re stalling.” She bent down to pull off her heels. “Okay, fine, I’ll accept my share of the blame for this mess.”

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“How magnanimous of you.” His sarcasm rankled, and she insisted stubbornly, “You could have given me some warning about tonight.” “Like you gave me?” She sighed. “Touché. So now, turnabout is fair play?” “I couldn’t have said it better myself.” He also had a point. As much as she hated to admit it, the evening’s outcome resulted from her initial behavior. Though…on second thought…maybe his idea of fair play would actually do her more good than harm. If Jason seriously wanted her to design maternity wear for his stores, she’d have to be crazy to let such a lucrative offer pass her by. Definitely something to give considerable thought to and, despite her lingering sense of guilt on Mitch’s behalf, it helped to re-ignite her spirit. She gave him a conciliatory smile and tossed her heels on the carpet. “You’re right, you do. And I deserved every curve you threw at me tonight.” Mitch’s suspicions immediately surfaced. “What are you up to now?” “What makes you think I’m up to something?” “Your eyes. They speak volumes.” “Really? And what are they saying?” “That you’re up to something.” She laughed. “You already said that.” “And I’m right.” “Gee, can’t you accept an apology?” “I don’t know. Try me.” “Okay, okay,” she relented. “I apologize for not telling you about the phone call the other night. In all honesty, guilt has kept me from calling you this week.” Mitch’s brow lifted. “Go on. This should be interesting.” “After the damage my brothers did, I couldn’t believe I had done it again. But Sam, now that I know his name, spooked me. Surely you can understand why.” “Sam spooked you?” Harleigh’s hands bracketed her hips to emphasize her righteous stance. “Yes, he spooked me. A stranger tracked me down to my home. I was absolutely stunned when he called me the other night. And when he started in with his lewd bragging and beating his chest, the only way I could think to get rid of him was to tell him I was…you know…engaged, spoken for, out of circulation.”

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“I see.” Not sure that he did, Harleigh sighed. “It was the first thing I could think of to get rid of him and I thought it worked. He didn’t call back.” She paused and frowned at him. “But you certainly enjoyed icing the cake. Having half the restaurant burst into applause at your 'I want to be a daddy' routine was a little over the top. I’m surprised you didn’t have a box of cigars to pass around.” She moved past him, only to turn back around on impulse. “And in my defense, I only told Sam we were engaged. It was your bright idea to make it sound like making babies is on our agenda tonight.” “Two can play this game.” “And you obviously enjoyed seeing me squirm,” Harleigh shot back. When he didn’t deny it, she swore she saw a tiny crack in his granite expression. The idea intrigued her. It meant he couldn’t be as angry as he wanted her to think. She felt herself relax enough to extend an olive branch. “Come on, I’ll give you a full confession over coffee. It’s the least I can do.” Moments later, with the brew underway, she busied herself with setting out mugs and utensils, all the while cognizant of Mitch’s daunting company. Not to mention his sexy aftershave and the way she felt his eyes watching her every movement. Seated on a bar stool with his arms resting on the counter, he seemed larger than life, making her kitchen seem claustrophobic despite the Atlantic Ocean visible from the window. “So why did you cover for me with Jason?” Her gaze remained fixed on the task at hand. “I asked myself that very question.” “And yet, here you are.” He drummed his fingers on the counter. “Here I am.” “So what happened?” He kept things simple. “Once I got past the surprise of seeing him again and we caught up on old times, he dropped a bombshell by congratulating me on my recent engagement.” Her eyes shot upward. “You didn’t deny it?” “I didn’t have a chance. The second he called you by name, it changed the entire complexion of our conversation. Curiosity can be a formidable opponent, and, quite frankly, I wanted to know what the hell you were up to.” Harleigh winced. “It’s called improvisation. I’m very good at it. A throwback to my high school drama class. Sam in Vegas was bad enough, but the thought that he could find me so easily freaked me out. So I fabricated a fiancé, and, well, you got elected.” “I’m honored.”

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“Don’t let it go to your head. It hadn’t been that long since that night at your house, so you were an obvious first choice. Not to mention your name comes up every time Daddy calls me. Since he retired, golf consumes him.” She chuckled. “He’s quite in awe of your scratch handicap, you know. Before I met you, I assumed you were about his age, that you must be retired as well, and…” She halted in mid-stream as she remembered her description to Beth of a man with sagging jowls and hairy nostrils. She stared at Mitch across the counter, his chiseled jaw, penetrating blue eyes, and overall good looks far exceeding anyone she might have imagined for herself. Mitch arched a brow. “And what?” She shrugged and opted for honesty. “You’re an attractive man. I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times.” Not to mention charming, gorgeous, outrageously sexy, unmarried. He grinned. “But don’t let it go to my head?” She lifted the coffee decanter, filled their mugs and handed one to him while neatly dodging his question. “Changing the subject somewhat, who in a million years would have predicted this outcome? Cream or sugar?” “Just black.” He sipped his coffee over a moment or two of silence and inquired, “Does anyone else know about this?” “Not really. I told Beth about being harassed at the Vegas show, but nothing about Sam calling me. She would have insisted I report him to the police as a stalker.” “How do you know he’s not?” “You’re kidding, right? I mean, one phone call doesn’t exactly a stalker make. Sam isn’t exactly my idea of an upstanding citizen, but I seriously doubt he’s dangerous. And, besides, he’s Jason’s brother.” “Still, if he ever does call you again, I trust you’ll tell me right away.” “Really? Why would I do that?” “I thought I was your hero? You said so earlier in the evening.” Harleigh couldn’t resist smiling at his attempt to make light of the situation. “I believe I said you enjoy playing my hero. There’s a difference.” “Somehow I don’t see you as a damsel in distress.” “Well, I’m not a troublemaker either. At least, not intentionally.” He seemed to find that funny which put her on the defensive. “I’m not. I just…” She paused to search for the right words. “Have a tendency to speak before you think? Leap before you look? Talk out of the side of your mouth?”

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“Ok, ok. I get the picture. Ease up, already.” Mitch reached over and cuffed her on the chin. “I’m teasing you, Sweetheart. I’d love to play your hero any day.” His eyes darkened at the same time his voice turned huskier. Harleigh felt her stomach contract at the unmistakable desire on his face. She quickly changed the subject. “If it’s any consolation, it unnerved me when you identified yourself in Mom and Dad’s kitchen. Although the things I said about you were said in jest, I didn’t like the idea that, knowing how highly my dad thinks of you, you might see his daughter as some kind of gold digger or something.” She paused, frowning. “Do people still use that word?” “Is that what was bothering you at the party? Why you had a little too much to drink?” Mitch’s perception impressed her. They had barely met, and yet he had instinctively sensed her odd behavior. Still, she evaded his question. “I should have clarified the things I said, but it seemed irrelevant.” Mitch didn’t say anything for a moment. “So irrelevant that you showed up on my doorstep at two o’clock in the morning?” “I had an idea to bare my soul,” she admitted. “I thought we would have a good laugh over it, but we kind of got…sidetracked.” She swallowed at that particular memory. “How is Coby, by the way?” She kept her eyes downcast while she stirred one teaspoon of sugar after another into her cup. “Would you like a little coffee to go with that sugar?” His question brought her head back up. “Excuse me?” “You make that any sweeter and you’ll go into diabetic shock.” Her hand immediately stilled. “Oh,” was all she could seem to manage. If his thoughtful expression meant he knew where her thoughts had taken her, he took the gentlemanly route and let her off the hook. “Coby’s fine. Liz is taking care of her, though she’s probably counting the days until you bring her that mint bone you promised. Coby, not Liz.” Harleigh laughed. “I haven’t forgotten. I’ll probably be back home for Thanksgiving, so I’ll make sure to stop by with a whole box full.” “I’ll be looking forward to it.” Mitch’s voice dropped an octave, his meaning crystal clear. But Harleigh couldn’t resist teasing him. “Really? What flavor would you like?” That made him laugh outright. “I know I caught you off guard tonight, but you recovered quickly. I wasn’t sure you’d go along with me.” Grateful the conversation took a detour, she giggled suddenly. “I had little choice in the matter.

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For a second, when I saw Jason standing there in his trench coat and his face hidden beneath that hat, I had visions of being the next morning’s headlines. Fortunately, he turned out to be a very charming man. I like him.” “The feeling’s mutual. Once Jason saw your designs, he was adamant he had found the perfect designer to create maternity lingerie for his stores. I believe that’s what he meant by two bonuses, finding us both in the same day.” He regarded her closely over the rim of his cup. “You are going to call him, aren’t you?” More guilt made her frown. “His offer certainly sounds like a great opportunity.” “But?” “We’re operating under a lie here. He thinks we’re engaged.” “Jason is interested in what you and your talent can do for his business. His California stores are quite profitable, and he’s already planning to branch out to several major cities on the east coast. Think what it could do for you as well.” It sounded too good to be true. Although she enjoyed a modicum of celebrity, Harleigh knew she had a long way to go to be considered a top-of-the-line designer. She didn’t shy away from hard work and long hours to perfect her craft, but having an offer of this magnitude drop in one’s lap didn’t come along every day. Ironically, it came at the peak of her very first creative block. She eyed Mitch curiously. “Why are you doing this?” Mitch laid his cup down. “Doing what?” “Going to these lengths to help me land a new client? We barely know one another.” He gave her a crooked grin. “Considering we’re supposed to be engaged, I’m sure Jason thinks we know each other very well.” Her lips quirked. “It was all talk, remember? You were in name only. Everything else was a figment of my imagination.” Silently, she marveled yet again how the flesh and blood man wildly surpassed the image she conjured up.

“I must say, you’re being a good sport about everything.

Especially considering how angry you looked when you first came into my shop tonight.” “Maybe because I didn’t yet know what you were up to. I was beginning to think you might be gunning for my money after all. That what happened at my place was just a diversion of some sort. Though a very pleasurable one, I might add.” Harleigh frowned. “I thought we were past that.” Her hands braced her hips in a show of pride. “For the record, I’m not gunning for anyone’s money or help. I have a perfectly respectable business of my own, and if I say so myself, I’m damned good at what I do. Even without Jason’s offer, I’m

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confident I can make a name for myself in the design industry. So get the notion that your wallet is the only thing I find attractive about you out of your head once and for all.” She turned in a huff, but Mitch rose quickly and rounded the counter. His hands descended on her waist and pulled her close enough that she had to tilt her head to look up at him. “Second time you’ve admitted to finding me attractive.” He grinned at her petulant displeasure. “You were a good sport yourself when you kissed me back at the shop. I didn’t have a lot of time to convince you to act like a fiancée. Kissing you seemed the best way to go and you performed far beyond my expectations.” His teasing disarmed her. A smiled tugged at her lips. “Does this mean you’re convinced that my babbling on about your millions was simply my choice of weapon on both occasions and nothing more?” “I’m convinced.” “And there’ll be no more re-hashing of what’s becoming a very old tale?” “Not from my end.” He caught her hands between his. “And if I wasn’t flying to Virginia tomorrow, I’d stick around and prove it.” “Virginia?” “I’m scoping out property there for a new golf course. This trip is a detour.” Relieved that Mitch no longer seemed to think of her as some money-hungry schemer, Harleigh found it easy to ask, “How long will you be gone?” “A couple of days at the most. After that, who knows? I may make another detour back.” He tipped her chin. “That is, if the lady is willing.” Though her gaze confirmed it, Harleigh’s silence said otherwise. This time, Mitch frowned. “Two days too long or not long enough?” Two minutes without seeing Mitch seemed too long, but Harleigh had more pressing matters on her mind at the moment. “Do you really think Jason buys this engagement? I mean, among other things, he had to have noticed I wasn’t wearing a ring.” Mitch didn’t skip a beat at the change in topic. “Possibly, though it didn’t seem to make a difference.” “So what happens when we tell him the truth? Something we should have done from the beginning.” Mitch didn’t appear concerned. “Who said anything about telling him the truth?” Harleigh rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Let’s just keep pretending indefinitely we’re engaged to

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be married.” She reached for her cup on the counter and halted at the expression on his face. “Mitch, of course we’re going to tell him.” At his continued blank stare, her mouth dropped open. “Aren’t we?” She didn’t mistake the hint of laughter curving its way into his bottom lip. “Mrs. Brannigan has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” She played along. “I wouldn’t know. You’d have to ask your mother.” “Viva Las Vegas and the tangled webs we weave...” “Not we,” Harleigh corrected him. “That was all my doing. You simply carried it a step further.” With a shudder, she remembered Vegas and Sam’s fingers brushing her thigh, his hand daring to cup her ass right before he slithered away. “No disrespect to Jason, but Sam isn’t someone I care to meet again.” She carried her cup to the sink and laid it inside. She stood with her back against the cabinet. “Suffice it to say that the character of one brother falls far short of that of the other.” “I didn’t mean to bring back unpleasant memories. I never liked Sam Lightner as a boy. Doesn’t sound like the man is much of an improvement.” When Mitch joined Harleigh at the sink, she reached for the cup in his hand. “I’ll take that.” She turned to place it with hers, her mouth forming a silent O when his hands descended on her shoulders and pulled her back around to face him. Without saying a word, Mitch lowered his head, his mouth coming down hard, and purposefully, on hers. Instinctively, Harleigh’s arms encircled his neck, and her mouth opened beneath his, the heat of his kiss effectively shattering any semblance of willpower. Not that she needed, or wanted any. She melted into him, completely purging Sam from her thoughts to concentrate solely on the man holding her. Her response shook her to the core. A week of not seeing him made her aggressive as she stood on tiptoe to draw him into her, her fingers curling into the ends of his hair while she kissed him back without restraint. God, she couldn’t get enough of him, and with the slightest encouragement, she knew she could easily let him take her on the kitchen floor. He lifted his head, reluctance clearly etched on his face. “Do you know how much I’ve been wanting to do that all night?” She smiled. “You already did, remember?” “That was for Jason’s benefit. This was for mine.” At the mention of the man’s name, she sighed. “Mitch, what are we going to do about Jason? We have to tell him the truth.” “We will,” he promised. “But not tonight.” He cupped her face in his hands, his expression warm and tender. “For the record, I’m sorry you had to deal with the likes of Sam Lightner. Were I

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really your fiancé, it would have been quite satisfying to exert my rights and knock him on his ass. Not to mention to give my bride-to-be the attention she deserved.” The man simply oozed charm. And Harleigh marveled at the turn of events. It seemed only a moment ago Mitch Brannigan existed only in her imagination. Now he held her in his arms and made her wonder at the true existence of fate. Some of the wonder must have shown in her eyes as, blue eyes locking with green, Mitch softly reclaimed her mouth. Or, at least, those appeared to be his intentions. To kiss her gently, perhaps make her forget men like Sam Lightner existed. But good intentions fell by the wayside as suddenly he crushed her to him again, devouring her with his mouth, his lips, his tongue, giving her reason to think it could always be this way between them. That they would always be on the verge of losing control with each other. Not that she couldn’t handle it. Not when something felt so good. And so right. She burned from the inside out, and all she could think of, or feel, or want was Mitch. Desire for him licked and flicked every nerve ending in her body, and she couldn’t stem the moan of arousal that slipped from her throat. “Mitch,” she breathed, arching against him, wanting him. “The...the phone’s ringing.” “Let the machine pick up.” “It might be important.” “So is this.” Harleigh moaned again and lost herself in the possessive warmth of Mitch’s fingers kneading the small of her back. She barely heard her own voice telling the caller to leave their name and number after the beep. “Harleigh? It’s Jason.” The familiar baritone proved an all too effective distraction. Harleigh tore her mouth from Mitch’s, ignoring his protests to blindly scoop the phone from its cradle and punch the off button. “Jason?” She swore she heard a groan of frustration fall from Mitch’s lips, but the guilt she felt in deceiving his friend had the upper hand on passion. From the corner of her eye she saw him cross his arms to wait patiently, knowing he caught only snatches of her side of the conversation. Soon enough she hung up the phone and gave him a hesitant smile. “That was Jason,” she muttered unnecessarily. “I heard. What did he want?” “He didn’t want to wait until I called him. My designing for his stores is in the works as we

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speak.” Mitch chuckled. “That’s Jason for you. He never was one to let grass grow under his feet.” Just as suddenly, he frowned. “What is it, Harleigh? I told you, we will tell him the truth, and I guarantee he’ll get a big laugh out of all of this.” Harleigh laced her fingers beneath her chin, and blew out a breath. “Is that before or after next weekend?” “What’s going on next weekend?” “Jason’s having a party in L.A. in honor of his new designer.” Mitch looked dutifully impressed. “The man doesn’t waste any time, does he?” He pulled her back into his arms, ready to pick up where they left off. “You are going, aren’t you? Jason will certainly expect you there.” She blinked up at him. “No more than he’s expecting you to be there.” “Why me?” “It seems the guests of honor are the future Mr. and Mrs. Mitch Brannigan, and…” she paused for effect, “Since you evidently told him we’ve been keeping our engagement under wraps for the time being, he thought it might be the perfect time we’ve been waiting for to go public with our engagement.”

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Chapter Five

Mitch’s resounding laughter had Harleigh longing to break the nearest object at hand over his head. From her point of view, Jason’s phone call signaled a situation spiraling out of control. And if she didn’t see the need to push the panic button, neither did she share Mitch’s blithe assessment of the situation. “I’m glad you find this so amusing,” she snapped with a toss of her head. “Look at what you’ve done!” This time his laughter rang with incredulity. “What I’ve done! A minute ago you said this was all your doing.” “I was being nice.” Harleigh’s arms folded across her middle as she took up a steady pace. She thought back to Vegas again and wished she had never laid eyes on Sam Lightner. Unconsciously, she gave voice to her wayward thoughts. “I should have kick-boxed that jerk in the groin when I had the chance. I’m pretty good, if I say so myself.” Mitch noticeably winced. “R.B. mentioned that was one of your talents. I’ll remember to keep a safe distance should you ever feel the need to kick my groin.” She bristled at his apparent lack of concern. “Are you listening to me?” She still paced as though incapable of doing anything else at the moment. “We have to do something about this. Things are getting out of hand.” “Sweetheart, relax. This is funny.” He reached for her in a show of doling out reassurance. “Where’s your sense of humor?” She evaded his grasp. “I left it in Vegas.” “You know,” he observed dryly, “nothing has happened that we can’t fix. We’ve been gone from the restaurant for barely over an hour. Jason’s been known to move a mountain or two, but he didn’t do it by simply snapping his fingers. Not even he could have caused that much damage in such a short time.” Harleigh didn’t share his optimism. “Don’t bet on it,” she argued. “Because you didn’t hear him on the phone. He’s ecstatic with being reunited with his old college buddy…his engaged college buddy, or so he thinks…and he can’t wait to introduce the soon-to-be Mrs. Brannigan as Lightner’s new designer.” She shook her head in disbelief. “He wants to prepare a press release within the week, and…” She paused long enough to shoot Mitch an aggrieved look. “He wants me to see how peachy

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new parenthood can be.” “That’s understandable. Perhaps Jason’s enthusiasm is a little over the top, but besides being a new daddy, his wife happens to be a pediatrician. Who better to ply you with sound advice?” Harleigh stared at Mitch as though his ears had sprouted corn. “Somewhere along the way, you’ve started to enjoy this, haven’t you? You’re loving every minute this absurd plot thickens. No pun intended.” Mitch didn’t even try to keep a straight face. His hands braced his hips as he gave in to another burst of laughter. “The situation is pretty funny, Harleigh. I can’t remember when I’ve had this much fun.” “Well, you’ll forgive me if I see things a little differently than you do.” “Hand me the phone.” “What?” “I’ll take care of this right now. I’ll call Jason at his hotel and straighten everything out.” His easy solution didn’t produce the result he expected. Not an ounce of relief adorned her face. “What’s wrong now? One phone call and we’re home free.” Harleigh shook her head. “Jason never made it to a hotel. He was already on his way to the airport to catch the red-eye back to L.A. He said he couldn’t stand being away from Abby and the baby any longer.” Mitch shrugged. “Okay, than we go to Plan B. I’ll simply call him when I get to Virginia tomorrow morning.” “And say what?” He corralled her back into his arms with a confident air. “I’ll explain everything, how you invented a fiancé to discourage Sam’s advances, and how I couldn’t resist turning the tables on you.” His arms tightened around her waist. “Trust me when I say he’ll appreciate the humor of it all, and…” He tipped her chin, his mouth hovering close to hers. “He’ll still want you.” Harleigh still didn’t share Mitch’s confidence. If anything, she feared Jason would undoubtedly think neither one of them possessed an ounce of credibility. He might even feel like the unwitting victim of a bad joke. She would hate that because she not only genuinely liked him, she wanted the opportunity to experiment with his maternity line. But like Mitch said, nothing had happened that couldn’t be fixed. She even allowed herself the luxury of believing Jason would still want her designs despite the truth coming out. Unfortunately, it didn’t quell a niggling fear in the back of her mind. “Mitch, you do realize the

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potential for disaster if we don’t act quickly, don’t you? A press release could…” He cut her off with one finger pressed to her lips. “Relax. Let me handle Jason and you concentrate on your sketchpad. He’ll be expecting big things from you when you land in L.A. next week.” “Providing the job is still mine.” “It’s yours. I guarantee it.” Harleigh ran a tongue over her lips. “And you?” “What about me?” Her fingers worried the hair at his nape. “Assuming you’re right, and Jason’s still willing to give me a chance, are you planning to come to Los Angeles?” Her question brought a smile to his face. “In what capacity?” he challenged. “Certainly not as your intended.” She thought for a moment and teased, “my business manager?” “You couldn’t afford me.” “No matter. I prefer to handle my own affairs.” “Bodyguard?” That made her laugh out loud. “You’re thinking about Sam again, aren’t you?” “Chances are good you’ll run into him.” “I’m not afraid of Sam.” “No, but he might try to make things uncomfortable for you. Especially if he thought you made a fool of him.” Harleigh considered his warning. For about a tenth of a second. Sam Lightner had long been delegated to the back of her memory as insignificant and she intended him to stay there. Just as she intended to trust Mitch could make things right with Jason. “What hotel are you staying in?” Mitch cocked a brow at her sudden change in topic. “I haven’t registered. Jason and I rented a car at the airport and went straight to your shop. Why?” She chose her words carefully. “I could save you a trip back into town and let you stay here.” “What an intriguing idea.” “In the guest room.” He grinned. “I accept.” He paused and added, “should I lock my door?” She pulled his head down for a soft kiss, and whispered, “Only if you’re afraid of the bogeyman.”

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***

Long after midnight, when she had showered, crawled into bed, and watched the final scenes of a Bette Davis classic, Harleigh still found sleep an elusive thing. Not when her thoughts centered on her guest down the hall. She turned off the remote and placed it on the bedside table. Plumping her pillow, she made a half-hearted attempt to settle into her favorite sleeping position and closed her eyes. Unfortunately, an image of Mitch, naked, and branding her sheets with his scent, inspired more restlessness than she knew what to do with. It didn’t stretch her imagination to suspect that he slept in the nude. On the night she rang his doorbell in the wee hours, keen observation on her part had noticed his unbuttoned jeans. They looked as though he had thrown them on in haste. And, mercy, how he had filled out those jeans! She groaned and burrowed her face in her pillow, willing herself to think of anything but his cobalt blue eyes. Or his thick, black hair, perfect for a woman’s tousling fingers. Not to mention his bronzed chest and arms of steel. And those long, long legs with feet that easily measured a size thirteen. You know what they say about a man with large feet... “That does it!” Harleigh hissed, flinging back the covers and throwing on her ivory robe. Personally, she considered warm milk a horrid means for a sedative, but sometimes desperation called for desperate measures.

***

Mitch heard her bedroom door open and watched her pad barefoot into the hallway. For a moment, he considered making his presence known. She couldn’t see him from his vantage point, but when she paused outside his door and reached with one hand to tentatively touch the doorknob, he waited to see what she would do next. Disappointment washed over him to see her hand drop back down to her side. She slipped past him in the shadows, and still he said nothing. But thank God he had passed on taking a walk on the beach. He moved on silent feet to the kitchen and watched her heat milk in the microwave. He grinned to hear her unconsciously tapping her foot while she waited for the time to elapse. At the sound of the beep, she reached to pull open the door, but her hand halted in mid-stream. He made sure he had made no sound, not even so much as a creak in the floorboard. But he knew the second she saw his reflection in the microwave glass. She didn’t move, didn’t even seem to

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breathe, and when her eyes connected solidly with his, he knew he had her. “I don’t think warm milk is what you need.” He spoke barely above a whisper and moved so close to her, he felt the heat from her body, sensed her hunger, a hunger that easily equaled his own. His fingers began a slow, sensual climb upward through the flimsy material of her robe, caressed her arms and curved along her shoulders. He felt a shudder ran through her, and she leaned backward to rest her head against his chest. Mitch lifted the ends of her hair, his mouth roaming freely over the scented skin underneath. She smelled of lavender soap, clean, womanly, and totally irresistible. No words were necessary as Harleigh’s eyes closed, her soft mewl of pleasure more arousing to him than had she physically touched him. God, how he wanted her. But he wanted to take things slowly, to savor every moment with her, so he lingered, murmuring her name, and showing her in no uncertain terms he found her sensual and desirable. He turned her around slowly in his arms; the soft swell of her breasts clearly visible beneath the silk robe. The sash at her waist had loosened, and she seemed to watch with fascination when he untied it completely to slide the robe from her shoulders. It pooled at their feet, leaving her naked, and breathtakingly beautiful. Mitch swallowed at her perfection. The muted light from the lamp played around her in a seductive halo. From her full breasts with the nipples impudently erect to her taut stomach and softly flaring hips, and down to the blond triangle at the apex of her thighs, she personified an exquisite piece of sculpture. The look in her eyes, the half-smile on her lips drew his head down, and his mouth sought hers in a kiss meant to slow the pace for the inevitable. But Harleigh surprised him with her boldness. She wanted this. She wanted him. He couldn’t remember a moment in his life more primitive or humbling than this one. Suddenly it meant everything to him to make love to her in a way no one had ever made love to her before. Whether instinct or the first real stirrings of love guided him, he wanted to make her his woman, claim her as his alone. Such overwhelming feelings of protection and possession made him slower than usual as he continued to kiss her and hold her in his arms. “Mitch.” He barely heard her murmur his name. “I won’t break.” He lifted his head and saw the passion blazing back at him. He groaned deep in his throat and crushed her against him. Her mouth opened under his and she kissed him back with fervor, burying her

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hands in his hair, and he couldn’t help but thrill at the difference in their sizes. She felt small and womanly, and he wanted to engulf her in his arms. One hand cupped her ass and reined her in closer to ensure she knew exactly the extent of his desire for her. She rolled her hips wantonly against him, welcoming his intrusion, and her response shook Mitch to the core. This time both hands cupped her bottom and found they were indeed a perfect fit, further igniting his fever for her. “God, sweetheart, I want you.” His lips blazed across her cheekbone, his teeth nipped at her earlobe. “We both knew this would happen,” he breathed between kisses, “but I didn’t plan this.” Harleigh laughed softly and increased her hold on him. “I love surprises.” Her tongue whipped across his bottom lip and she playfully teased the tender flesh. “I may be a little out of practice, but if you think I don’t want this, I must not be doing something right.” Mitch sucked in his breath. She couldn’t be more perfect if she tried. He slashed her a grin and swept her up into his arms, his voice taking on a lusty timbre as he said, “your place or mine?” The thought of fucking her in her own bed inflamed his insides. Harleigh read his thoughts and didn’t hesitate to fulfill his wish. Within minutes, he carried her into her bedroom and propped her against a mountain of pillows. Her blond hair fanned out around her in a silken cloud and she gazed up at him with complete trust and longing. His eyes raked in the sight of her curves so naturally displayed. Her beauty humbled him, her confidence inflamed him when she pulled his head down and tantalized his mouth with her own. “You have an incredible mouth. A lover’s mouth.” She nipped softly at the object of her attentions. “Do you know how long I’ve fantasized all the things it could do to me?” She grinned. “Does that make me greedy?” He flashed his teeth in return. “Between the sheets, greed is good.” Before he could take steps to prove his point, she anticipated his next move to undress by rising to her knees and covering his hands with her smaller ones. “Fair is fair,” she intoned invitingly, the tension building between them as she deftly unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. Moonlight filtered through the curtains, seeming to underscore her luminous beauty. Hot, urgent desire exploded tenfold within him. His heart drummed at a delicious pace when Harleigh’s fingers splayed across his flesh to trace patterns down his ribcage and across the planes of his stomach, but nothing prepared him for the liquid heat of her tongue as it mapped a fiery trail of kisses down his torso. She sought out and found one nipple, gently sucking it into the warm cavern of her mouth while she continued to caress and explore every exposed inch of him. The muscles of his back played into her

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hands and, when he felt her fingers glide along his waistband to unsnap his jeans, his hands fisted in her hair to purposely bring her head back up to a safer zone. His eyes gazed meaningfully into hers. “Easy, Sweetheart,” he whispered, grazing her lips ever so softly with his, “or you might underestimate your powers.” Harleigh smiled with feline satisfaction. She uncurled her legs and lay back against the pillows to watch him kick off his shoes and socks and divest himself of his jeans and briefs. Her gaze drifted down to his cock and the fires burning in his belly threatened to consume him and send him into an abyss of mindless anticipation. She seemed to drink him in with her eyes. “I’ve never said this to a man before,” she confessed without hesitation, “but you’re beautiful.” If she thought he would laugh at the notion, he didn’t. Instead, he joined her on the bed, more intent on beginning his own sensual exploration. His palm flattened at the base of her throat, gliding over the smooth expanse of her neck and shoulders. She gave a small gasp when he found her nipple, rubbing it, loving it between the pads of his fingers. His head bent, his hand lifting one breast and another so his mouth could capture and worship their fullness. Harleigh responded instantly, shuddering beneath the onslaught of his tongue as it teased and licked each tiny nub into submission. Mitch wanted to play with her, to acquaint himself with every curve, line, and nuance of her body. To experience to the fullest the fantasy he had built inside his head of what it would be like to have her, to hold her, to possess her. But the real Harleigh, the flesh and blood Harleigh, made the fantasy pale in comparison. He had never been so caught off balance, and so eager to give pleasure to another human being. She filled him with tenderness. His lover’s hands roamed over her, molding and shaping her, keeping her close while his mouth began its own uninhibited journey down her body. He didn’t just kiss her. He inhaled her scent, tasted and savored her skin. His tongue dipped into her navel, back and forth and all around it, and lower to feel her move restlessly beneath him. He knew what she wanted. The same thing he craved, and his hands moved easily to curve around her ass to bring them each closer to their hearts’ desire. Harleigh arched into him, and he felt the pull between heaven and hell as he yearned to discover her most intimate places. But still he waited, prolonging her torment to plunder the tufts of her mound, to caress the insides of her thighs, and to inflict tiny stabs of fire all around her velvety folds. “Mitch, please,” she whimpered, desperate need taking control of her vocal chords. Her fingers buried in his hair to coax him, beg him to ease her suffering.

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Finally, mercifully, he complied, and finding her already wet and hot, his tongue delved into her with savage possession. She bucked beneath him, pressing her pussy closer to his mouth with complete abandonment. Inflamed by her eagerness, Mitch joined two fingers with his tongue, teasing her, stroking her, while he licked and sucked at the very core of her femininity. His ears roared to hear her cry out in pure ecstasy, her climax coming hard and fast as he brought her shuddering to release. He moved over her, blanketing her body with his own, and urging her thighs to invite him inside. He restrained himself for a second longer, his strength sustaining him as he positioned himself for entry. Their eyes met in the darkness, but neither one spoke, the moment too raw for mere words. But when he drove into her, his mouth swooped to silence the cry that erupted from her throat. All rational thought left him as she took him inside her. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs tightly around him, lifting her hips to take him deeper and deeper, but letting him set the pace between them. He pumped slow…then fast. He moved gently…then aggressively. And each time she met him and matched him, their rhythms in perfect sync with one another. Mitch loved watching her, seeing her eyes glaze over with passion, and feeling the sweet folds of her flesh ripple around him. Her passionate nature both stunned and delighted him. She held nothing back, instead met him thrust for thrust, abandoning herself to the pleasure until he saw and felt her again reach that ultimate precipice of desire. He held on for as long as he could, whispering her name over and over, but her broken moan of helplessness shattered his control and sent him soaring over the edge. His body gave a final jerk as he gave in to his own passion and joined her there in that special place known only to lovers. Time seemed to stand still with no sound, no movement. Only the beating of two hearts and the mingling of two breaths. When Harleigh opened her eyes, she reached out to caress the curve of his cheek. Almost as though she had to reaffirm his presence. That what just transpired wasn’t a dream, but an unbelievable altering of everything she believed in. And anything she had ever experienced. Mitch saw the subtle change in her. And understood it. Their lovemaking had deeply affected him, too, and tenderness for her washed over him as he shifted their positions until she half laid on top of him. One arm pulled her into the crook of his embrace. After a moment, when their breathing had returned to normal, he broke the silence first. “What are you thinking?” “What an incredible lover you are.” “Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you.” “And how unpredictable life can be.”

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“In a good way, I hope.” “Unbelievably good,” she responded without hesitation. “For the first time in a long time, I feel relaxed and at peace.” She giggled. “Having one’s lust assuaged can do that, you know.” Mitch grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” When he felt her shiver, he tightened his hold on her. “Are you cold?” She rose up on her forearm and shook her head. “I’ve never been warmer.” She traced the outline of his mouth with one finger, which he promptly captured between his lips. “Definitely a good sign.” Her swollen lips and flushed cheeks underscored his observation. “Do you have any idea how incredibly sexy you look right now?” “Dancing isn’t the only thing you do well, Mr. Brannigan.” Mitch laughed and drew her closer to his length. He brushed the hair from her forehead and lifted a single strand to inhale the clean scent of her shampoo. “I knew I would love making love with you.” She winced. “Nice to know you considered me a sure thing.” “Never a sure thing.” “What did you think of me?” “That you’re a very beautiful and sensual woman. I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since the moment we first met.” He spoke like a man smitten, so Harleigh’s less-than-ladylike grunt surprised him. “What’s that about? You don’t believe me?” “I believe you.” “But?” “But I’m so unforgettable you forgot how to use a telephone? After that night at your house, I thought we were on to something.” She blinked at him, seemingly unembarrassed to be so blunt. His initial frown turned into a smug smile. “I think the lady likes me.” “Give me a minute and I’ll think of yet another way to amuse you.” She attempted to rise, but he wouldn’t break his hold. He laughed softly and lifted his head high enough to nuzzle the base of her throat. Her groan of appreciation came reluctantly and she proved it by saying, “That’s not going to work.” Mitch disagreed as his mouth and tongue traveled upward to shower her with wet, baby kisses. With wicked assurance, he murmured, “What’s not going to work?” Harleigh tipped her head to the side. “That.” She swallowed, giving him better access and

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proving him right. “You mean, this that?” He breathed into her ear, his teeth gently nibbling at her lobe while his hand smoothed along her ribcage to reclaim the soft mound of her breast. He was thrilled at her immediate response when his fingers pinched and pulled her nipple with just enough force to make her sigh with pleasure, fueling his own. He could feel her whole body start its familiar trembling with his touch, and his desire for her reasserted itself tenfold. “Why, Mitch?” she demanded, curling her fingers in his hair and giving it a light yank. “Why didn’t you call me?” “Why didn’t you call me?” “I told you. I felt guilty about…stuff. What’s your excuse?” “I don’t have one because I did call you. And more than once. Perhaps you should invest in a receptionist.” He twirled his tongue along the outline of her ear and blew wisps of air inside it until she whined weakly, “You called me?” He chuckled low in his throat. “If you don’t have a receptionist, maybe you should try checking your voice mail once in a while.” “I hate telephones,” she moaned in her defense. When she felt the ridge of his erection already at full mast against her middle, she writhed wantonly against him. “For the record, I’m much better with e-mail.” With one quick movement, Mitch rolled her to her back and pinned her arms above her head in playful retaliation. “Now you tell me,” he scolded lightly, staring down into her passion-glazed eyes before swooping down to nip at her bottom lip. “My ego took quite a bruising, thanks to your stubbornness. So somebody needs to do a little groveling.” Harleigh sighed. “If you must.” She blinked up at him, squirming beneath him until he settled nicely between her thighs. “But make it quick, the night’s getting away from us.” “You don’t play fair.” Mitch laughed out loud before lowering his head to steal a full-fledged kiss. But Harleigh relinquished it willingly, murmuring softly, “and to think I hate warm milk.”

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Chapter Six

The Charleston International Airport buzzed with activity when Mitch stepped through the automatic doors just after six a.m. By the time he checked his bag at the ticket desk and passed through security at Gate B, his flight to Roanoke, Virginia had already been announced and he fell into step behind the final passengers boarding. Moments later, seated in First Class, he checked his watch, mentally calculating the difference between Eastern and Pacific clocks. By the time his plane landed, he figured Jason would still be hitting the snooze button, giving Mitch ample time to get his bearings before placing that all important phone call. Buckling his seatbelt, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, his mouth curving into a complacent smile. Could it be he had fallen in love with the good doctor’s daughter? God knew he found her irresistible on all levels. And last night had certainly proved how compatible they were in the bedroom. Hell, after last night, he couldn’t remember what any other women in his life even looked like. The same couldn’t be said of his green-eyed “fiancée”. If he possessed artistic ability, Mitch knew he could paint her likeness right down to the delicate arch of her eyebrows or the gentle curve of her cheekbones or the way her lips parted when she wanted to be kissed. She surprised him last night by inviting him to stay. And he would be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t been disappointed when it seemed they would share but a few kisses to end the evening. It had taken every ounce of willpower he possessed not to walk the short distance from the guest bedroom to Harleigh’s bedroom. Long after they had shared a passionate good night, and she sweetly laid out towels and amenities for him, he stared at the ceiling and envisioned what it would be like to hold and caress her, to make love with her, to listen to her cries of ecstasy filling his mouth and inflaming his senses. That their time came sooner than he expected had been an unbelievable gift, ending in a night he would never forget. He knew he could easily drive himself crazy with wanting her…again…and again. And he admitted on some instinctive level he had known she would find a way to get to him. And had she ever. He couldn’t remember another woman ever owning his thoughts like this one did. He didn’t find the realization in the least bit daunting. He glanced at his watch again and wondered if she was up yet. His flight at dawn prevented him

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from waking her up to say goodbye. But the next time they were together, and already he counted the days, he’d make sure she woke up in his arms instead of an empty bed. For now, he consoled himself with the notion that last night somehow sealed their fate together. And, hopefully, the note he left would sustain her until his return. A sudden jolt of turbulence brought Mitch’s head up. He opened his eyes only to realize that somewhere between take-off and becoming airborne, he had fallen asleep. “Excuse me, Mr. Brannigan?” A flight attendant smiled down at him from behind her drink cart. “Would you care for juice or coffee?” “Coffee, please,” he responded to her cheery morning demeanor. “Black.” Within seconds of handing Mitch his beverage, the pretty brunette smiled again before moving on to the next row of seats. Pulling down his lap tray, Mitch settled his cup and reached for the obligatory airline magazine, hoping to concentrate on less dangerous subjects than a certain sexy designer. “Hey, Mister?” Mitch turned his head to the side at the sound of the male voice. “Yes?” A young man probably still shy of his twenty-first birthday grinned at him as though eager to reveal the secrets of the universe. “What’s it like to be rich and famous and have such a hot babe like her?” Undeniable envy laced his tone as he slapped the face of a newspaper and handed it over to Mitch. “What is this?” “Definitely better than what you’re reading.” Glancing down at the unfamiliar publication, Mitch immediately sighed and wondered at the powers of fate. Harleigh, it seemed, had found a way to join him at thirty-five thousand feet.

***

Harleigh found Beth knee-deep in silk thongs and garter belts when she walked into the shop at precisely nine the next morning, one hour later than her usual time of arrival. “Morning, Beth,” she chirped, sidestepping the cardboard boxes strewn haphazardly across the floor. “Sorry I’m late.” Beth didn’t look up, seemingly engrossed in the task at hand. “I’m sure you have a good reason.” Depositing her purse behind the counter, Harleigh hooked her keys on a corkboard and glanced

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back over her shoulder. “Need any help with those?” “No, thanks. I can manage.” Wondering at her friend’s mood, Harleigh said nothing, instead idly straightened a row of multiscented body glitters while she replayed in her head the mind-boggling events of last night. Not only had Mitch re-entered her life, he knew about Vegas and the phone call, and had a wicked sense of humor about both. And even if she still felt a tad guilty for misleading Jason about her faux fiancé, nothing could erase the memory of what she and Mitch shared until the wee hours of the morning. Making love with Mitch had been the single most sensually explosive and soul-connecting experience she had ever known, and she had yet to convince herself she had returned to earth in one piece. Mitch personified every woman’s fantasy between the sheets and remembering how he had owned her body and soul last night made it impossible to suppress a giggle at the anticipation of seeing him again. “I don’t know if that’s jealousy rumbling in the pit of my stomach or a simple case of nausea.” Harleigh’s head pulled around at the distinct note of irony in Beth’s voice. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?” “Not as sorry as you’re going to be.” For the first time since sailing into her shop that morning, Harleigh took a long, hard look at the woman who had faithfully worked alongside her for the past three years. Self-absorption took a backseat as she realized with a start that Beth hadn’t demonstrated her usual good morning cheer. Thinking the much anticipated evening with Josh had somehow fallen flat, Harleigh felt genuine empathy for her friend’s well-being. She quickly drew to Beth’s side. “What is it, Beth? You’re acting kind of weird this morning.” The recipient of Harleigh’s concern rolled her brown eyes heavenward as she snorted, “I’m acting weird, she says.” “Yes, you are,” Harleigh stated emphatically. “Are you feeling okay? Is something going on that I should know about?” “That’s funny. You took the words right out of my mouth.” Dropping a zebra-patterned thong back into the box, Beth pulled herself to a standing position until the two women were eye level. “So how was dinner last night?” “Last night?” “Any cravings for chocolate-covered sardines…” “What?”

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“…or liver and onions smothered in whipped cream?” Harleigh made a face. “I think I’m going to be sick.” “Women usually are in their first trimester.” Beth waited for some sign of comprehension, but received only a blank stare. She threw up her hands and blurted, “Why didn’t you tell me you’re pregnant?” “What?” Open-mouthed, Harleigh stared back at Beth in horror. “Pregnant?” “Yes, pregnant! I can’t believe you’d keep this from me.” “I didn’t. I haven’t. Where in the world would you get such an idea?” Momentary doubt only slightly mollified Beth. “You’re saying you’re not?” “Pregnant? No! Of course not.” “Okay, okay, but brace yourself.” With that, Beth marched over and scooped up a newspaper lying on the corner of the counter. “What’s that? Or do I even want to know?” “Don’t be surprised if you’re the topic of Market Street today.” Beth thrust the paper into Harleigh’s hands and pointed to one column in particular. “I say it again, girlfriend, you sure snagged the complete package this time.” Harleigh’s gaze fell on the center of the front page. A black and white photo of Mitch had him flashing his killer-watt grin. Harleigh’s initial instinct had her smiling right back as she drank in the sight of him. Her second instinct made her gasp out loud at the woman seated next to him. “That’s me!” she cried, zeroing in on the navy suit she had worn for yesterday…and last night at dinner with Mitch and Jason. She winced. “They got me with my mouth open!” “At least you were having a good hair day.” Beth scratched her head and added with an impish grin, “Now read the fine print. And read it out loud so I can get goose bumps all over again.” Frowning, Harleigh complied, confident it couldn’t be that bad. Wrong.

“Mitch Brannigan, self-made millionaire and entrepreneur, was seen dining at Maggie’s Café last night with an unidentified male and the historic district’s own Harleigh Boston, owner and proprietor of ‘Intimately Yours’ Lingerie Shop located on Market Street. It’s been nearly six months since Brannigan completed design of the largest public golf course in Denver, Colorado, which begs the question - what has he been up to lately? According to the events unfolding at Maggie’s over salmon and cheesecake, the impending production of Brannigan’s latest project is scheduled for completion in

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approximately nine months. It seems the dashing millionaire is about to become a ‘Daddy’!”

The last word erupted from Harleigh’s mouth in a shriek. “Oh my, God!” Mortification in its rawest form took root in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes flashed disbelievingly from Beth back to the offending paper and back to Beth again. “Mitch is going to kill me!’ “He looks like a happy puppy to me.” “This is turning into a nightmare.” “I think it’s pretty funny.” Harleigh begged to differ. “It’s insane! How can they write stuff like this? I’ve never even seen this paper.” Beth shrugged. “It’s brand new. Strictly for the downtown scene.” “But there was no reporter. Or at least I didn’t see one.” “With two gorgeous hotties sitting at your table, who could blame you?” Beth made no attempt to hide her glee at the situation. “Obviously, there was a reporter lurking nearby and he got the daddy idea from someone.” Harleigh stifled a groan. “Mitch.” “What?” She held up her hand to diffuse Beth’s confusion. “But he was kidding. He told Jason I was the only woman he wanted to bear his children. He was just trying to teach me a lesson and...” “Wait, who’s Jason?” “The other hottie,” Harleigh supplied with a wave of her hand. “He and Mitch were roommates at UCLA and he just happens to be Sam’s older brother.” Beth had fast lost track of the players. “Okay, who is Sam and where was he sitting?” “He wasn’t there. At least not last night. Sam is the jerk who started this whole mess when he wouldn’t leave me alone at the lingerie show.” “You mean, Mr. Vegas himself?” “None other. Sam told Jason what happened in Vegas, his version, I’m sure, not to mention a phone call I got the other night from the letch.” “Wait. You gave that Sam dude your phone number? After the abominable way he treated you in Vegas?” “Of course not. He tracked me down at home.” As expected, the motherly hen in Beth flew to the defense of her young. “My God! Did you call

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the police?” “No, I didn’t. I didn’t think it was necessary. But getting back to...” “Not necessary?” Genuine dismay wrinkled Beth’s brow. “Harleigh, sweetheart, girlfriend, how many times have we watched Law and Order together? If this quack had your phone number, he could easily have been parked across the street waiting to make his move, just like that creep on CSI, Miami last week. You should have called me. Or Josh. Someone!” She waved her hands in a gesture of disbelief, only to back down at the look of annoyance on Harleigh’s face. She sobered instantly. “Sorry, go on.” “Thank you. As I was saying, Sam called me as I was getting ready for bed, proving he’s just as obnoxious over the phone as he was in Vegas.”

Harleigh’s tone snapped in self-defense. “So I

concocted this story about being Mitch’s fiancée in an effort to get rid of him. Anyway, for whatever reason, Sam’s conscience got the better of him and he confessed to his brother how he had treated me. When Jason heard Mitch’s name come into the story, he immediately searched for Mitch on line and tracked him down at his office in Hilton Head. Imagine Mitch’s surprise when an old college chum dropped in unexpectedly to congratulate him on his recent engagement.” “Ouch,” Beth commiserated and swiped the newspaper from Harleigh’s fingers. “But wait, there’s more,” she said and continued reading.

“The apparent mother-to-be is a Lowcountry celebrity in her own right with her line of provocative, barely-there lingerie creations. With her blond goddess beauty, his movie idol appeal, and their combined talents and successes, Brannigan and Boston look poised to become the city’s most current and popular love match. Which begs the next question - when is the big day? That is, if they aren’t already married.”

Harleigh groaned. “Is this a newspaper or a tabloid?” Beth ventured a silver lining. “Either way, it could be good for business.” She frowned suddenly. “Why didn’t you tell me Mitch was coming into town?” “I didn’t know! He came after you left yesterday.” Harleigh gave a snort of frustration. “He walked in the door looking like Darth Vader in black leather, acting as though he wanted to strangle me, and the next thing I know he pulls me into his arms and starts kissing me.” Beth flung the paper aside as her hands crossed her chest. “Oh, I love that part.” Harleigh nodded. “So did I.”

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“You can’t deny the man is a walking billboard for sex, romance, and fantasy all rolled into one. So obviously he forgave you?” Harleigh shook her head. “No, that came later. Jason walked in on us kissing, and before I could barely catch my breath, Mitch introduced me as his fiancée!” “So you had already told him about Sam’s phone call?” “Of course not.” “How did Mitch know to introduce you as his fiancée?” “Because Jason told him I was his fiancée.” Beth threw her hands up. “The next reality show needs to come knocking on your door. So is Jason married?” “Beth!” Harleigh gave a strangled laugh. “What about Josh?” She happened to like the lanky lawyer with his wire-rimmed glasses and slight overbite. And it didn’t take a genius to know he put the snap in Beth’s brown eyes every time he entered the room. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have asked. But is he?” “Yes, and he has a new baby, a real baby, so don’t get any ideas.” She reclaimed the newspaper where Beth had tossed it and eyed the black and white photo with a sigh. “Let them say what they will, but dinner last night was a blast!” And dessert had me seeing stars! “By the way,” she interjected to deflect her wayward thoughts, “did I mention that Jason owns a string of department stores on the west coast and that he wants me to design an exclusive line of maternity lingerie for them?” She batted her eyelashes at Beth in rapid succession as she waited for a reaction. It came in the form of a loud scream and an exuberant bear hug. “Harleigh, that’s fabulous! This could be the break you’ve been waiting for!” Beth’s enthusiasm bubbled forth and Harleigh pulled back, laughing. “Wait a minute, now. First off, if this is a break, it’s our break. And, secondly, no contracts have been signed, and until this little thing with Mitch is straightened out, I’m putting any kind of celebration on hold.” “Little thing as in Jason thinking you and Mitch are secretly engaged? Not to mention pregnant if he sees our little city paper?” “Exactly. I’m glad to see you’ve been paying attention.” Beth nodded. “So where is Mitch now, by the way?” “In Virginia. He flew there early this morning on business.” Catching the sudden arch of her friend’s eyebrow, Harleigh frowned. “What’s that look about?” Beth didn’t mince words. “Mitch spent the night, didn’t he?” The telltale color in Harleigh’s

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cheeks gave her all the answer she needed. “Thank God. I was convinced it was just a matter of time before you slapped a mattress on your back and went running down the street yelling curb service.” They laughed in unison until Harleigh had time to truly consider the matter. “Please tell me it didn’t show that badly.” “Not any more. Thanks to your sexy savior.” Beth grinned. Apparently someone in the room had stopped paying attention. Nearly eighteen months to the day, Harleigh had broken all ties with the handsome, but unfaithful architect from Broad Street and Beth didn’t hesitate to mention that fact. “Dylan is ancient history,” Harleigh scoffed. “I haven’t thought of him in months.” She hadn’t. Not since she had seen him on the street during the Spoleto Festival with a curvy blond on his arm. She had judged the woman to be considerably younger than Dylan, and it hadn’t escaped her notice that his date bore a striking resemblance to Harleigh herself. Call it vanity, but at the time, she had consoled herself with the idea that if Dylan couldn’t have her, he consoled himself with a pale imitation. Not surprisingly, these days she could barely remember what the cheating louse even looked like. The Dylan Talbots of the world couldn’t hold a candle to the Mitch Brannigans, and she defied even Beth to disagree. “It wasn’t just sex with Mitch.” “It shows.” “Even if it did happen fast.” “I’m not judging you. I’m happy for you. Especially” Beth ventured, watching Harleigh closely, “when it’s written all over your face that you’re falling for the guy.” Why deny it? Hell, she wanted to shout it from the rooftop. Instead, she found herself tiptoeing around the truth. “Let’s just say he’s definitely worth the effort to find out.” “So what are you going to do now?” Harleigh nibbled her lower lip. What could she do now? She hadn’t thought to ask for his cell phone. Should she simply wait to hear from him since she had no earthly idea how to reach him? An easy and safe solution, not to mention cowardly. Besides, she had never been good at waiting, and waiting wouldn’t accomplish anything at the moment. Contact the newspaper and read them the riot act for invading her personal space? What good would that do? They had only printed conversations overheard in a public restaurant. And the damage had been done. So what if the city of Charleston thought she and Mitch were secretly engaged and possibly having a baby? Worse things had happened. And it certainly didn’t matter if people started speculating whether or not her size four figure started showing signs of blossoming. Of course, she had to consider her parents and brothers in all of this. If, no, when, the news

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leaked back to them, she’d have some explaining to do. But they were family. They always supported her. And they all liked Mitch. No worries there. So if her family didn’t concern her, what did? Or should she say who? Jason. She kept coming back to Jason. He hovered at the brink of her conscience. Unlike his unsavory younger brother, Mitch’s former roommate had already proven himself a gentleman and an extremely likeable one at that. Plus, he had made her an offer in good faith to create a line of maternity lingerie exclusively for his growing expansion of stores. She could do the job and she could it well, but how could perpetuating a lie give credence to her reputation? Even if Mitch explained the situation to Jason’s satisfaction, how could she live with herself if she didn’t own up to her part in this whole mess? She had to come clean with Jason once and for all. Not over the telephone. Not by using Mitch as a buffer. But in person. Face to face. She’d explain how everything went down. From Sam’s accosting her in Vegas and his untimely phone call. To her inventing Mitch as her fiancé. To Mitch turning the tables on her with his bogus baby pronouncement. It all had to come from her. Only then could she agree to design the maternity line. Assuming Jason still wanted her services. The decision made, she glanced at Beth with renewed confidence. “I know exactly what I’m going to do.” She rounded the counter again and picked up the telephone, already contemplating her personal wardrobe. “Who are you calling?” Beth followed in her wake, bracketing her arms along the counter top while she eyed Harleigh with suspicion. “My travel agent.” At the distinct whine emanating from Beth’s lips, Harleigh grinned. “I’m going to L.A.”

***

Mitch’s meeting with the land developer had taken up the entire morning, and his protesting stomach berated him for not grabbing a quick bite to eat. But now, driving along the Blue Ridge Parkway in his rented BMW, he found the breathtaking beauty surrounding him reason enough to forget about his hunger and concentrate instead on getting his designing juices flowing again. Having lived for a time near the Shenandoah National Park as a kid, he had never forgotten the blue-misted mountains rising majestically in the distance. Or the cascading waterfalls that inspired a

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fourteen-year old boy to want to one day emulate those wonders of nature in his own visions of a truly remarkable golf course. The public course in Denver had proved to be a resounding success, and he hadn’t forgotten the hard work and long hours it had taken to make it so. But at no time during any one stage of that construction and completion had he felt this personal, almost sentimental attachment to the land itself. Perhaps he simply wanted to recreate memories of hiking trails and rolling pastures. And it certainly helped that his inspection trip to the targeted site had gone better than he expected. Indeed, despite the abundance of rock and the difficult terrain, he knew without doubt he could not only emulate those childhood dreams, he could stamp them with his own unique brand of imagination and expertise. All of which made him more than anxious to get back home to the drawing board. And if the Virginia forecasts of a mild winter ahead proved accurate, he could well envision his designs taking shape as early as mid to late January. As long as they didn’t throw him in jail first for attempted murder. Harleigh. Her name echoed through his brain with resounding frustration and he didn’t know whether to rage at the heavens or simply laugh at her impulsiveness. The plan had been for him to first call Jason upon immediately arriving in Virginia. This he had done post haste in the airport lounge, only to catch his friend on his cell phone en route to San Francisco to spearhead a managerial crisis. Secondly, he had followed through on his promise to tell the truth about his domestic situation, or lack thereof. And Jason hadn’t disappointed him in his reaction upon hearing the tale unfold. “Oh, this is priceless.” He had laughed long and hard over the phone line. “No wonder you looked shell-shocked when I congratulated you on your engagement.” “To say the least.” “Yet you didn’t set me straight. Interesting.” “Let’s just say I wanted to know what my fiancée was up to.” Jason’s end of the line went silent for a moment. “What’s this about her being pregnant?” “She’s not pregnant,” Mitch repeated dryly. “Evidently some local reporter was snooping around last night at the restaurant and decided to embellish on my words about Harleigh one day making a beautiful mother-to-be. Frankly, I’d like to get my hands around his scrawny neck for printing such lies, but my first concern is Harleigh. It’s too easy to think she hasn’t seen the paper yet. I just hope she’s not freaking out all together.” “You know you should be ashamed of yourself, don’t you?” Jason’s chiding held little bite. “That beautiful lady has a reputation to uphold in Charleston. Now, because you decided to teach her a

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lesson, in a public place mind you, the whole city is going to be on baby watch.” Mitch grunted. “May I remind you I didn’t start this?” “Maybe not, but you could have prevented it from going this far.” When he received no response, Jason chuckled. “You’ve fallen in love with her, haven’t you?” “Your words.” “You forget I’ve seen the two of you together.” Jason laughed again. “Spontaneous combustion, my friend. You can run, but you can’t hide.” “Who says I’m running?” Mitch found himself not in the least intimidated by the revelation. “So now that you know we’re not engaged, I trust your offer to Harleigh is still on the table?” “Of course. I certainly don’t need your money, but what I need and most definitely want is Harleigh’s talent. Though it may take some...” “What’s that?” Mitch plugged one ear with his finger when Jason’s voice fell out of range. “Jason? Are you there?” “Mitch...you’re breaking up...” Static marred Jason’s voice. “I’ll...call...you...” The line went dead and with it Jason’s last words. Mitch shrugged and hung up the phone, certain his friend wouldn’t let him down. Anxious to put Harleigh’s mind at ease, he had immediately punched in the number of her shop and identified himself to the recipient. It only took moments before he found himself barking, “She what!” Disbelief tempered his tone even though he had clearly understood every word the woman on the other end had said. “That’s right, Mr. Brannigan,” she repeated a little too cheerfully through the receiver. “May I call you Mitch?” Not waiting for affirmation, she went on, “Harleigh left for Los Angeles over an hour ago. Got the next plane out. Coach, as a matter of fact.” “Is there a chance in hell you can make me understand why she would do that?” “Because First Class was already booked.” Pinching the bridge of his nose and striving for a modicum of patience, Mitch shook his head while trying to picture the slender brunette he had seen only from a distance. “Beth, is it? I meant, why did she not wait to hear from me like we planned?” “Oh, of course.” Beth laughed unselfconsciously. “Well, if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say her conscience was getting the best of her.” “Excuse me?” “She’s feeling guilty,” Beth said simply and offered, “you wouldn’t know this, but there was an article floating around here that...”

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“I know the one,” Mitch interrupted, remembering how the young man on the plane had spent the better part of the flight grilling him about his ‘hot babe’. “But, what does that have to do with anything?” “I think her exact words were, ‘Mitch is going to kill me’.” “I may yet, though not for that reason.” He sighed through the phone. “Can you please tell me what time her plane gets in? Where she’s staying?” Frustrated, he hated to think of Harleigh flying to Los Angeles needlessly when Jason had already landed in San Francisco. He heard the rustle of paper on the other end and jotted down the information recited to him, absently thanking Beth for her help. “Mitch, don’t be too angry with her,” she pleaded in her friend’s defense. “She told me everything that’s happened, and even though there’s been no real harm done yet, Harleigh simply felt honor bound to right the situation with Mr. Lightner.” “Yeah, and that honor is bound to get her into even more trouble.” Mitch checked his watch and affected his most charming tone. “Don’t worry, Beth, my intentions are quite honorable where Harleigh is concerned. I just wish she had waited to hear from me before taking off like that.” “I understand, but this trip may be just what she needs.” “How’s that?” Beth hesitated only briefly. “I don’t think I’m breaking any great confidence here, but Harleigh has been experiencing a little bit of a creative block lately. A change of scenery might do wonders for her.” A creative block? Funny, but Mitch couldn’t think of a single person on earth who possessed more imagination and creativity than R.B.’s daughter. “Is she always this impulsive?” “Are you complaining?” This time Mitch laughed. “No, but you might say I’m taking notes. Anyway, if and when you hear from her, I’d appreciate it if you’d tell her to stay put until I get there.” “You’re going to Los Angeles after her?” Beth couldn’t keep a note of envy from her tone. “You got it.” It never occurred to him to do otherwise. “And, Beth, thanks again for your help.” Both of those conversations had ended well over three hours ago and now, while driving along the highway, Mitch could only hope that the Norfolk airport had a private jet standing by. He had no problem using his connections to further his own cause. Picking up speed, he did, however, question his sanity in chasing a woman he barely knew all the way across the country. But he remembered Jason’s words with clarity. You’ve fallen in love with her, haven’t you?

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Hell, yes. In every sense of the word. And he couldn’t wait to tell her. If he didn’t strangle her first.

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Chapter Seven

Harleigh’s temples pounded to a conga beat by the time her plane landed at the L.A. airport. An unexpected layover in Dallas provided a frustrating delay, and it hadn’t helped matters being sandwiched in between two less than accommodating passengers on the connecting flight.

Mrs.

Hathaway on her left had been pleasing enough, though Harleigh could have been spared the minute by minute by-play of the poor woman’s recent gall bladder surgery. Portly Mr. Russell on her right hadn’t bothered her with endless chatter. He had been too busy using her shoulder as a headrest while he snored himself into the record books. Though easily the flight from hell, she had only herself to blame. Impulsive behavior often meant suffering the consequences and, damn, if she didn’t miss Mitch in the process. Last night seemed light years away, and her determination to come clean with Jason meant she’d have to go on missing Mitch indefinitely. Securing her carry-on bag over one shoulder and her purse on the other, she waited her turn as the passengers disembarked from the plane, all the while hoping Mitch would track her down once she got settled in town. A sea of faces greeted her when she emerged from the terminal, and she paused to get her bearings. Remembering the flight attendant’s directions for baggage claim, she headed off only to stop short again at the sight of a man standing just five feet away. His dark uniform and cap easily identified him as a chauffeur, but the sign he held caught her by complete surprise. She bolted forward, her headache temporarily forgotten. “Excuse me, I’m Harleigh Boston.” She gave him a tired smile, grateful she wouldn’t have to summon a taxi, but curious at his presence. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, but how did you know to pick me up?” At least six feet five, the man peered down at her from beneath the brim of his cap, his features pleasantly craggy and non-threatening. “Hello, Ms. Boston. Mr. Lightner sent me. I trust you had a pleasant flight?” “That’s debatable, but thanks for asking.

And he did?”

Harleigh found Jason’s swift

accommodations impressive. “I didn’t know he knew I was coming. He must have called the shop and spoken with Beth.” “Yes, Ma’am. If you’ll follow me, I’m parked just outside.” “Wait, my baggage. I need to…” “It’s all taken care of, Ma’am. Just follow me.”

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“Jason doesn’t waste any time, does he?” Shrugging, Harleigh fell into a quick step behind the suddenly moving giant. “I really appreciate this, Mr.?” “Just Max will do,” came the grunt over his shoulder. Upon reaching the exit, automatic doors opened, and Harleigh soon found herself being ushered into the back seat of a sleek, black limo. The plush interior felt glorious beneath her weary backside, and she yearned to curl up on the seat for a decadent catnap. Max pulled open the door on the driver’s side and slid his considerable height beneath the wheel. Within moments, he whipped out into the street and Harleigh leaned forward to talk to the back of his head. “I’m staying at a bed and breakfast over on...” “I know the one, Ma’am.” “Oh, okay. Will it take long to get there?” “From the airport, it takes less than twenty minutes.” “Great. Wake me when we get there.” Harleigh gave a sigh of satisfaction. She had twenty minutes. Long enough to indulge in that catnap, but not too long that she couldn’t freshen up once she checked in, grab a bite to eat, and still try to hook up with Jason before the hour got too late. Relaxing against the headrest, she soon fell into a light sleep, comforted by memories of warm, blue eyes and soul-shattering kisses. It seemed seconds before she stirred, sensing the limo had stopped moving. Opening her eyes slowly, she yawned, already gathering up her carry-all and purse as she heard Max come around and pull open her door. “We’ve arrived, Ms. Boston.” Max’s deep voice brought her head around and she accepted his proffered hand in exiting the vehicle. She yawned again, laughing apologetically. “I didn’t realize how tired I was.” She peered up at him to thank him for the safe journey, but a distinct and familiar roar averted her attention. “What the...” Wide-awake now, she whirled around and gaped at her surroundings. Her travel agent insisted the Victorian gingerbread house surrounded by giant redwoods would be the perfect place to take up temporary residence during her stay in L.A. But, there were no redwoods in sight, and she didn’t need a geography lesson to recognize the Pacific Ocean when she saw it. Confused, this time she gaped at the chauffeur. “This isn’t the Victorian House.” “No, Ma’am.” “We’re at the beach.” Max shut the passenger door. “Yes, Ma’am.” “I don’t understand. Where is the Victorian House?”

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Max’s broad shoulders lifted. “About forty-five minutes back, Ms. Boston.” “Forty-five minutes! You said it took twenty from the airport.” “It does, but...” “Okay, what the hell is going on? I have reservations in the city. The rates they charge are ridiculous. I’m not going to be a happy camper if I get charged for accommodations I never enjoyed. And, please, stop calling me Ma’am. My name is Harleigh.” Max’s expression said that wouldn’t be appropriate. “I’m sorry, Ma’am, but my instructions were to bring you here. And your bill has been taken care of.” “Whose instructions?” “Mr. Ligh...” “I know, I know. Mr. Lightner.” She wrinkled her brow. “He lives here? Somehow, I thought he lived in L.A.” Max shook his head. “He does. This is his guesthouse. He felt you would be more comfortable with your privacy.” He extended one hand with an encouraging smile. “Please, allow me to show you inside.” Harleigh paused. She had always prided herself on her independence and taking care of business on her own terms. But her potential new client obviously liked to take matters into his own hands. So be it. Besides, she had always loved the ocean, and she’d be lying if she didn’t admit she much preferred her present surroundings to staying in the city. Jason’s three-story guesthouse with its huge double-deck and oversized windows rivaled any she had ever seen in a magazine. If she had to make this her home for the time being, why not make the most of it? “Okay, Max, you win,” she yielded. “Show me the way.” She followed him up a long walkway and waited patiently for him to open the front door. Once inside the foyer, she immediately noticed her luggage sitting on the floor. She shook her head at Max as she dropped her bag and purse on top of a table. “I’m not even going to ask how those got in here.” Max dipped his head and handed her a set of keys. “I hope you enjoy your stay, Ms. Boston. There’s a car in the garage at your disposal. You’re to make yourself at home. I’m sure you’ll find everything you need.” And, without so much as a backward glance, he ambled back down the walkway to his limo. Harleigh watched him go with a bemused frown. Though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, intuition told her that being shanghaied in a limo just might not be the only surprise lying in wait for her.

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***

Shortly after a shower and light snack, Harleigh rummaged through her purse until she found the card with Lightner’s emblazoned across the front. She called the home number scribbled on the back and waited patiently through three rings. “Good evening,” came the feminine greeting. “Lightner residence.” “Hello. This is Harleigh Boston. May I speak with Jason please?” “I’m sorry, but Mr. Lightner is not home at the present. May I take a message?” “Is this Mrs. Lightner?” “No, Ma’am, I’m the housekeeper. The family is in San Francisco.” San Francisco? Harleigh frowned. “Do you expect them back soon?” “Not for a couple of weeks.” “Are you sure? This is Harleigh Boston,” she repeated, “from Charleston, South Carolina. I believe Jason was expecting me.” After a moment of silence, the woman continued, “The family is away on a business trip. I’ll be more than happy to relay a message.” Confused, Harleigh ran her fingers through her still damp hair and tried to assimilate this latest development. Jason had arranged to have her taken to his guest house, and yet, according to his housekeeper, he had left town. She supposed he could have made the arrangements from San Francisco, playing the perfect host until he returned from his trip. Which made her feel all the more irresponsible since she had given him no warning of her arrival. Sighing, she decided she couldn’t do anything about it for the moment except be grateful for his hospitality. “Hello? Ms. Boston?” “I’m…I’m sorry,” Harleigh cleared her throat and stared down at her bare toes. “If you could please let Jason know I’ve arrived and that I’m anxious to see him. He knows where to find me.” “Certainly, Ms. Boston. Is there anything else?” “No, that’s it, but thank you.” She hung up the phone with a sense of dejection. Great. So much for her great intentions of setting the record straight anytime soon. And the prospect of spending a weekend on a deserted beach in L.A. held absolutely no appeal when she’d much rather be at home waiting for Mitch to return from Virginia. How the hell did she get herself into these impossible situations? She shrugged and took a good look at her surroundings. Things could be worse. Her host

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certainly had exquisite tastes. She had already delighted in the luxurious bathroom with its marble-tiled floors and shower complete with every color-coordinated amenity one could imagine. And she greatly anticipated the king-size bed with its silk curtains draping each corner of the iron canopy. Even if she’d only be sleeping in it. “Oh, the things Mitch and I could do in that bed!” She shook her head and sighed. She’d have to find other means to exert her energies tonight. Padding over to the window, she separated the curtains and gasped with pleasure at the panoramic view filling her vision. The sun resembled a bare blip on the horizon while sky and water blended colors like a vivid painting. She pulled open the French doors to sniff the ocean air and retrieved her portfolio from the bedroom. With sketchpad in hand, she sat crosslegged on a twin lounger with one objective in mind. Her impulsiveness may have shown Jason a lack of consideration in one respect, but she would do her damnedest to prove he hadn’t misjudged her talent.

***

Mitch found her curled up in front of the window, sound asleep, and completely oblivious to his presence. The sliding glass doors were open allowing a light ocean breeze to filter into the room. Not to mention unwanted visitors if they were so inclined. Unsure whether to be annoyed with her lack of precaution or simply amused by her complacency in unfamiliar surroundings, he moved around the side of the settee and immediately halted in his tracks, totally unprepared for the beguiling picture she made. She had obviously showered, her hair still damp and curling around her shoulders. One hand curved beneath her cheek while the other lay across her stomach in defenseless fashion. She reminded him of a little girl in sleep, but one look at the faded football jersey she wore shot that particular image to hell. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. Harleigh designed some of the most femininely erotic lingerie he had ever seen, and yet the designer apparently preferred men’s worn sweatshirts to sleep in. It had ridden high on her hip, revealing one bare buttock, and her legs that seemed to go on forever tapered down to slim calves and ankles, ending with pink toenails. A sweeping glance of her beautiful curves so naturally displayed made it difficult to swallow and Mitch had to reach deep down inside himself to ignore the tightening in his jeans. He hunkered beside her and took a moment to simply enjoy watching her sleep. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since he saw her last, and yet it staggered him how much he had missed her. He shook her gently and said softly, “Harleigh, wake up. It’s me.” The not too distant sound of a man’s voice penetrated Harleigh’s fog. She stirred slightly and

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groaned, obviously finding the intrusion an unwelcome one. “Go away,” she mumbled and scratched her nose. Mitch chuckled, watching spellbound as she stretched her limbs to their fullest length and rolled to her back. A glimpse of the wispy panel covering the vee between her thighs nearly knocked the wind from him. The lady did a damned good job of wearing a thong. “Come on, sleeping beauty, it’s time to wake up,” he muttered roughly, uncertain how much more he could take of her innocent exhibition. Harleigh lifted her hand to stifle a yawn, her eyelids slowly fluttering open. It took her a moment to focus “Mitch?” “Hi.” “Am I dreaming?” She gave a wisp of a smile, her voice still husky from sleep. “You’re supposed to be in Virginia.” “I was, but something happened to change my plans.” He reached out and tweaked her nose. “What am I going to do with you?” She blinked. “Kiss me?” “Why didn’t I think of that?” He grinned, leaning in to oblige her, but when her arms went around his neck, the sudden jolt caught him off balance. He toppled backward and took her with him. They landed in a heap on the carpet, both laughing outright before he pulled her head down and kissed her soundly on her mouth. They kissed long and hard before Harleigh lifted her head and purred, “Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here?” “Chasing you across the country.” With one fluid movement, he rolled their bodies until she lay fully beneath him. “You were supposed to wait to hear from me,” he chastised lightly and grinned again. “Although I’m discovering spontaneity can be sexy as hell.” She winced. “Not to mention expensive.” “I can afford it.” “I was talking about myself.” She smoothed his eyebrow with one finger. “But I’m glad you don’t seem too perturbed with me.” “If I was, you changed my mind.” “How? I was sleeping.” “Exactly. It’s easy to keep my temper in check when I’m staring at such a beautiful backside.” “You have a temper?” “When I’m crossed.”

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“I’ll remember that. But nice of you to notice you’re not the only one who works out.” “I applaud your success.” Mitch stood up and brought her to her feet, his arms encircling her while he perfected a stern look. “But, next time, lock the doors before you decide to take a nap. You’re all alone out here. It could have been anyone checking out your backside.” “Lucky for me you came along instead.” She frowned suddenly. “How did you find me anyway? Beth has the address in the city.” “I have my resources. Right now I want to know whatever possessed you to fly out here?” “I’m sure you can figure it out.” “But if you had waited a little bit longer, I could have told you...” Harleigh didn’t let him finish as she broke away from his arms. “I know I should have waited,” she allowed without hesitation. “But I didn’t know how to get in touch with you and things were going crazy. I knew if I didn’t square things with Jason right away, I would go crazy. He evidently called the shop, so he knew I was on my way here.” She pushed her hands through her hair, the movement causing her jersey to ride up and give Mitch another glimpse of the slender thighs underneath. He willed himself to focus above her shoulders. “So you jumped on a plane and flew three-thousand miles instead of making a simple phone call?” “I wanted to explain in person.” She sighed. “The idea sounded better when I thought of it.” “A phone call was all it took.” Comprehending, her eyes widened. “Jason knows?” Mitch nodded. “I told him this morning that there’s no engagement. Just like I said I would.” His hands bracketed his hips as he pretended not to notice how her nipples stood at attention through the fabric of her shirt. Though bone weary from the flight, he didn’t think jet lag caused the weakness in his knees. “And?” Harleigh bit her lip, her anxiety over Jason’s reaction clearly showing. “And, just as I predicted, he had a good laugh over it.” “Before or after he lambasted me?” “You’re not giving yourself enough credit. Trust me, you’re in. Although, for your sake, he was more than a little concerned about the article in the morning’s paper.” Harleigh gasped. “You’ve seen the paper?” “On the plane.” “So you know about the…”

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“Baby rumor?” Mitch nodded. “I hope it didn’t freak you out too much. You know how over zealous reporters can be.” “You’re taking this rather well. It doesn’t bother you that the public is under the misconception you’re about to become a daddy?” “Why should it? Rumors get started all the time. I’ve certainly had far worse press written about me.” He gave her a crooked grin. “Not that I would consider getting you in the family way a bad thing.” His good humor obviously surprised her. She folded her arms across the chest. “You know, you weren’t kidding when you said Jason moves mountains. No sooner did I step off the plane, he had his chauffeur pick me up at the airport and bring me here. I just assumed I’d see him tonight, so it’s strange that he’d be in San Francisco instead.” Mitch shook his head. “The trip wasn’t planned. He barely had a chance to get home after leaving us before he got a call from the store about a managerial uprising. It sounds like he has a long fight on his hands, so he took Abby and the baby with him.” “That makes me feel a little better,” Harleigh confessed. “At least Jason isn’t avoiding me.” “Why would you think he’d avoid you?” “I wouldn’t blame him if he thought my spontaneous travel plans labeled me as too aggressive in securing an account.” She bit her lip, and Mitch detected a sense of guilt in her tone. She proved it with her next words. “It seems I’ve made this trip for nothing. And so have you.” She sighed. “I know you must be exhausted. Are you hungry? Jason’s kitchen is a virtual grocery store.” She avoided looking at him directly as she attempted to side-step around him. “Believe it or not, I’m actually a pretty good cook. Maybe not as good as Mom, but…” Before she could complete her journey or her sentence, Mitch’s arms snaked out and caught her in the circle of his arms. “Stop it.” She blinked. “What?” “You heard me.” He tipped her chin so he had her full attention. “Sweetheart, I know how to use a telephone. I’m here because I want to be.” She studied him for a moment, not entirely mollified. “Is that true, or do you really want to yell at me?” His head dipped so his lips hovered close to hers. “I think you know damn well what I want.” He gave her no time to process his meaning before his hands skirted the hem of her jersey and palmed her ass. He pressed his cock against her middle to further prove his intentions.

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Her arms encircled his neck, letting him know her guilt now took a backseat to desire. “Does this mean you’re not interested in my cooking skills?” “Not at the moment. I ate on the plane.” He nipped at her bottom lip, his tongue enjoying its fullness with small, butterfly licks. “And I skipped dessert on purpose.” “You mean you passed on their pre-packaged, cherry-filled brownies?” Raining kisses along her jawbone, he shook his head. “Too sweet.” “Or those squares of carrot cake with the nuts sprinkled on top?” She moaned, letting her head fall back to give his mouth free rein to continue its heated journey. “I hate walnuts.” He lifted her until her legs settled around his hips. Eyeing a nearby barstool, he steered them forward and neatly placed her on the cushioned seat. He caught her face between his large hands, and on the heels of a lingering kiss, murmured, “Besides, I had something else in mind.” Harleigh’s eyes widened and he delighted in her look of anticipation. “I’m not sure I’ve recovered yet from last night.” “Last night was only the beginning of me enjoying you.” “You make me sound like a cookie.” Mitch grinned. “Now you’re getting the picture.” He drew her bottom to the edge of the stool and knelt in front of her. She didn’t disappoint him when her beautiful mouth curved into a smile of surrender and she instinctively opened her thighs for him. Her provocative scent filled his nostrils and he fought an overwhelming impulse to simply fuck her right there. Instead, he had a need to toy with her and take his sweet time in bringing her to fulfillment. With deliberate slowness, he pushed the sliver of silk aside to flick his tongue once against her clit. Her strangled moan left him little doubt he could make her come with scant effort. Using the pads of his thumbs, he gently parted her lips to expose her most intimate place. He blew out the barest wisp of air before letting his mouth swoop in to suckle her sweetness. Harleigh’s head fell back and her fingers gripped the edge of the barstool as she gave herself to him in the most primitive fashion. Mitch couldn’t explain it, not to her or to himself, but he intuitively knew her body as though they had been lovers for a long time. She had the sweetest pussy, and he continued to lick, stroke, and eat all around the folds of her flesh, losing himself in the pleasure of giving her pleasure. “Mitch. Please.” Her plea for release barely grazed his consciousness. But he felt her hand on the back of his head, exerting enough pressure to let him know she couldn’t take much more. This time, without hesitation, he gave the lady what she wanted. His hands gripped her hips and reined her in closer while

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his mouth and tongue hastened and sharpened their assault. He knew the precise moment she started to peak and he helped her along by burying his face deeper until only her cries of passion could be heard in the room. He raised up and eased her arms around his neck, nuzzling her ear and simply holding her until her body stopped quivering and she relaxed against him. After a moment, he muttered against her hair, “In case you’re wondering, the chase was well worth it.” She laughed weakly and tightened her hold around him, her words barely topping a whisper. “Maybe I should keep running.” “Something tells me I’d follow every time.” His hands caressed her beneath her jersey, but she helped him along by pulling the garment over her head and letting it find its own place on the floor. Mitch groaned at the sight of her beautiful breasts. He filled his hands with them, molding and shaping them beneath his palms, enjoying their softness. He bent his head to taste her, but she laughed again, this time stronger and pushed him away gently. “Hold that thought.” She slid off the stool and took Mitch’s hand in her own. “It’s my turn to show you what I was dreaming before you woke me up.” The smile over her shoulder seared his soul, and somehow Mitch didn’t need any further persuasion.

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Chapter Eight

“You have a very sensual body. I can’t keep my hands off of you.” The smooth cadence of Mitch’s voice tickled the inside of Harleigh’s ear and she opened one eye to peer up at him over her shoulder. “I’m not complaining.” “You could model lingerie.” “Since I’m obviously not designing any at the moment.” “Does that make me a sexist?” She curled in closer against his chest with a smile of satisfaction. “Somewhat, but it sounds good coming from you.” His finger traced the length of her arm, his mouth following in its wake to nip at her flesh. “You have beautiful skin. Soft. Baby soft. “His hand curved around to the nape of her neck, pushing her hair aside to burrow his nose in the hollow behind her ear. “Even your smell is sensual...intoxicating...” She closed her eyes again and gave in to the pleasure of Mitch’s attentiveness. “It’s called soap and water.” “It’s working.” “I still can’t believe you’re here.” “And you don’t seem to be complaining on that score either.” “Actually, I was thinking about Jason.” A second of stillness gave way to Mitch swiftly rolling her to her back with a growl of reprisal. The sheet pooled at her waist and left her exposed, but she merely laughed when he pinned her wrists above her head and speared her with blue fire. “Did you just say Jason?” His face hovered mere inches from hers, his weight making escape impossible. “For that I should hold you captive all night.” “Promises, promises.” “Good thing I have a healthy ego.” “Hmm. Among your other attributes.” Mitch grinned. “I aim to please.” He released his hold on her to stroke one hand down the center of her torso and slid his hand along her rib cage and over the mound of her breast. He continued his journey by rubbing one nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Already Harleigh could feel the fires in her stirring and she knew it would take little effort on Mitch’s part to have her again responding with complete abandonment.

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He dipped his head to suckle her bottom lip before adding, “Though I’m not above asking how another man found his way into our bed?” “Our bed. I like the sound of that.” Harleigh felt her skin burn beneath the calloused fingertips skimming ever so delicately over her body. “Although,” she yawned and stretched, delighting in the way Mitch seemed entranced by her movements, “technically speaking, this is Jason’s bed.” “We’re spending way too much time discussing my ex-roommate.”

His playful tone

complemented his relaxed mood as he captured one of her hands to suck each of her fingers into his mouth, his gaze holding hers. “I say we change the subject. One that requires less talking and a lot more action like making love all night and into the morning.” His mouth began a slow, wet descent from her wrist down her forearm. “Although,” he murmured into her scented softness, “technically speaking, this is my bed.” Harleigh had half way succumbed to Mitch’s seductive ministrations when his last statement penetrated her consciousness with the surprise of a pinprick. She became instantly alert. “Your bed?” “Uh-huh.” Responding solely to the womanly flesh at his disposal, Mitch blithely ignored the warning signs of Harleigh’s tone and shifted his attention back to the swell of her breast. “Jason doesn’t own a beach house.” Harleigh pushed her hand between their bodies before Mitch’s seeking mouth could make contact. “Excuse me?” “I said Jason doesn’t....” “I heard what you said.” Before Mitch could anticipate her intention, she muscled her way from beneath him and shot from the bed. Retrieving a silk robe from a nearby chair, she pushed her arms through the sleeves and tied the sash at her waist before turning back around to face him with an expression reserved for those on the verge of a tongue-lashing. “And I’m not sure I like the implications of what you said.” She could tell Mitch couldn’t have been more surprised or confused by the swift change in her mood. He sat up in the bed and flung a hand through his hair, looking like a man desperately trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. “Implications? What are you talking about?” Harleigh took a deep breath and swallowed, vainly trying to distance the sight of the hunk of steel gracing the sheets like some mythical lord of yore from her ever-growing irritation. “You know damn well what I’m talking about.” She crossed her arms, her cheeks flaming pink and her chest rising with indignation. “I can certainly tell you’re pissed, though I can’t imagine why. Maybe you could enlighten me.”

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“You just said Jason doesn’t own this place.” “He doesn’t. He’s a city boy.” “If he doesn’t own this place, he obviously didn’t make the arrangements for me to be here.” “Obviously not.” She took another deep breath. “And it wasn’t his chauffeur who picked me up at the airport.” Mitch flung the sheet away and swung his feet to the floor. He stood up and towered over Harleigh, perfectly comfortable in his natural state. “To my knowledge, he’s never met the man. Hell, I’ve never met the man. I left it to my assistant to make the arrangements. Although I was careful to make sure she gave the name Lightner to you rather than mine. I wanted to surprise you. You said you like surprises. But, it’s certainly nothing to worry about. Jason has his own legion of drivers.” “Are you trying to be funny?” “Not intentionally.” “Is it possible you’re really that dense?” “Apparently, since I have no idea why you’re upset.” She took a step back as though putting distance between them could make it easier to get her point across. Frankly, she found it damned hard to maintain her anger when her line of vision kept straying downward. “You rented this house, didn’t you?” “No, I did not.” His response threw her off balance. She frowned. “You didn’t? But how...” Mitch cut her off. “I own it. I own properties all over the country. This one just happened to be closest to where you were originally planning to stay.” Harleigh’s hands braced her hips. She ran her tongue across her bottom lip and mentally counted to ten. “I cannot believe you would do this.” Mitch leaned one shoulder against the iron post and crossed his arms. “You know what? I consider myself an educated, intelligent man, and yet, at the moment, I’m about as clueless as a man can be. What is it you think I’ve done?” She took another step backward. His eyes. Stay focused on his eyes. “I cannot believe you would be so presumptuous as to think this...this whole set up would be okay with me.” “What set up?” “Having me shanghaied from the airport, this house, that…that bed. We don’t even know each other that well.” For that Mitch gave a quick bark of laughter. “Sweetheart, forgive me if I’m overstating things,

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but for two people who don’t know each other very well, we sure as hell gave a good imitation of it in that bed.” Harleigh resisted the urge to stamp her foot. “But it was your bed, Mitch.” Mitch’s brow furrowed. “Well, whose bed did you want it to be?” “You just don’t get it, do you?” “I’m trying, believe me. What you’re saying is it’s okay for us to make love in a bed in Jason’s house, but it’s not okay if the house and bed belong to me?” He shook his head and made no attempt to hide his complete bafflement. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. We made love at your house and it wasn’t an issue.” “That wasn’t planned. It just happened. And it’s not crazy.” He frowned again. “And for that your feathers are ruffled? I mean, maybe I’m missing something, but what we just shared was incredible. Good God, the earth moved. And I don’t think I’m overstating things now when I say I know damn well it moved for both of us.” “Don’t remind me,” she snapped with a lift of her chin. More confident than ever she had a right to her ruffled feathers, she deliberately glanced at the juncture of Mitch’s thighs and scoffed. “And quit showing off. Can’t you put a towel on or something?” Her bold gaze conflicted sharply with her telltale blush. To make matters worse, she saw the corners of Mitch’s mouth quirk upward. “You think this is funny?” She almost shouted the words at him. He threw his hands up as if to ward off her wrath. “Right now, all I’m thinking about is how to get back into your good graces.” “I’m not mad at you. I’m just...” She released a frustrated sigh and closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them, Mitch stood a foot away. He reached out to flick a wayward strand of hair from her cheek. “Given what I’ve already learned about you, I should have anticipated you would react this way.” He kept his voice low and intimate. “But doesn’t it count for something how quickly you and I always seem to connect?” “What?” “I believe Jason called it spontaneous combustion.” He tipped her chin with one finger, his hand curving around her waist in case she decided to bolt again. “Though in our case, I’d say it’s not only spontaneous, it could very well be life-threatening.” “What are you babbling about now?” Harleigh’s voice sounded stilted to her own ears, not at all

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as firm and confident as she intended. Of course, it had nothing to do with the fact that the hairs on Mitch’s chest were within easy reach of her fingers if she were so inclined to exercise them. Or that a day’s worth of traveling and what Beth referred to as all-up-in-your-toes sex couldn’t taint the very essence of his masculine scent. “Whose life is being threatened?” “Mine,” he said automatically, this time both hands encircling her waist until he held her safely ensconced in his arms. “Especially if I can’t hold you.” He bent his head and let his tongue lick one corner of her mouth. “Or kiss you.” Harleigh gave in to the warmth of his kiss, instinctively, passionately, for about a tenth of a second. “Wait. Just wait.” She broke free and whirled away from him. “You’re trying to distract me,” she accused, determined not to let her resolve weaken despite her overwhelming attraction to him. Mitch followed in her wake. “Why shouldn’t I distract you? You distract me.” He descended on her until her back braced against the dresser and she could only rest her palms on the surface for support. “You distract me to the point that I can’t think of anything but you. But us.” His hands cupped the lower half of her face and his mouth did a swift appraisal of hers. “You distract me enough that I flew across the country on a moment’s notice just to be near you. And I was selfish enough to want you all to myself. Somewhere we could be alone with no one around for miles and miles...” He let his voice trail off to bury himself in the curve of her neck, but Harleigh caught him yet again by surprise and ducked beneath his arm to find refuge behind an oversized chair. “Mitch, you’re not listening to me.” She pushed her hands through her hair and tried to forget the exquisite thrill of feeling him throb against her abdomen only moments ago. “Could you please put some clothes on? We need to talk. I...I need to talk.” Mitch scratched his chin. “Why is it when a man is at his most amorous, a woman just wants to talk? May I take a shower first? A very cold shower?” Harleigh couldn’t prevent the smile curving its way into the corners of her mouth at the way he emphasized cold. It would be too easy to say to hell with her scruples and jump back into bed with him. Before Mitch, she had almost forgotten how pleasant sex could be. Since Mitch, she had learned pleasant didn’t come close to describing his talents as a lover. But she didn’t need sex from him at the moment. She needed to make him understand who she was, what she wanted for herself, maybe even what she wanted for the both of them. “Go ahead,” she acquiesced, already on her way to the bedroom door as she pointed toward the bathroom. “You know where the shower is. You’ll find everything you need.” With one hand on the doorknob, she turned back around with an ironic lift of her shoulders. “Just like you planned it.”

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***

She heard him approach from behind, but she didn’t turn around. Resting her forearms on the deck railing, she lifted her head and closed her eyes, enjoying the breeze blowing softly across her cheekbones. She shivered slightly, the night air cool against her legs and through the thin material of her robe, but the refreshing chill enabled her to think with a clearer head than she had recently shown. Mitch joined her at the railing, not so close as to touch her, but close enough that she could hear his even breathing, inhale the fragrance of the soap she had used earlier in the evening. Both seemed to appreciate the comfortable silence, and when she finally opened her eyes, she found him leaning on one arm, watching her, waiting. “It really is beautiful here.” She spoke first. Turning around to use the railing as a backrest, she crossed her arms and gave him a tentative smile. “I think I can think rationally now,” she said in deference to his choice of dress. Even in gray sweats, she couldn’t deny his superb physical condition, but at least he had covered himself, even if it made him no less gorgeous. He gave her a level look. “If you’re ready to talk, I’m ready to listen.” With his toothpaste white smile and relaxed demeanor, Harleigh wondered if the man ever had an uncertain moment in his entire life. She had had plenty and tonight seemed a culmination of all of them. She stared up at him for a moment, choosing her words carefully. “Mitch, what are we doing here?” “What do you mean?” She sighed. “You do know this trip could have been avoided.” “I kind of like where we are right now.” “Do you?” His answer came quickly and decisively. “Do you have any idea the effort it’s taking not to pull your into my arms and show you just how much I like where we are? Especially when I see those beautiful eyes of yours blinking a much more malleable shade of green.” He grinned. “How can you not know by now what you’ve come to mean to me?” “Maybe because we’ve only known each other a few short days. Not much more than a week really.” “Long enough to know we’ve got a good thing starting.” “But I wouldn’t call whatever this is a conventional kind of relationship.” That gave him pause. “Is that what you’re looking for, Harleigh? Something conventional?” He

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made it sound like a negative thing. His next words confirmed it. “Something safe?” She shrugged. “Believe it or not, those aren’t exactly the two adjectives most people would use when describing the way I live my life.” She turned back to the sea and propped her chin on one hand, giving him a sidelong glance. “I’m sure you’ve caught on to my tendency to fly by the seat of my pants.” He grinned again. “So you’re a little impulsive. No harm in that. And it seems to work for you.” “Sometimes it does. Other times, I’m not sure.” “If you’re still worried about Jason...” “I’m not. Not really.” He read between the lines. “But?” “But, little more than a week ago, you and I were just a name to each other. Now, there’s a newspaper article floating around saying we have a baby on the way and that we may or may not be married.” “Sweetheart,” he said patiently, “that article can’t hurt us. It was nothing more than a small publication geared toward an even smaller circulation. Mere gossip over the dinner table, if that.” She shook her head and straightened. “It’s not that simple for me.” She sighed, searching for words to explain why. “A white lie on my part has snowballed into a nice man being deceived, the press printing false information, and your having to cut short a business trip because I hopped on a plane on a whim.” “My business was done in Virginia. At least for the moment. And, I repeat, I’m here because I want to be with you. Do you believe me?” “I believe you.” Not only did she believe him, it thrilled her beyond measure to hear him admit it. But she still couldn’t shake her immediate concern. And because of that, she spoke sharper than she intended. “Mitch, I know my coming here wasn’t exactly well thought out. I had an agenda in mind, that of telling Jason the truth before he put all of his faith and trust in me only to be disillusioned. You took care of that, and for that I’m grateful. But I didn’t know that, so here I am and I had every intention of telling him that we’re not engaged and that there was never any talk of your financing my design line. I wasn’t exactly thrilled when I thought he had changed my hotel accommodations. I like being independent. I like taking care of my business and my life on my terms. But after I thought about it, I decided it was no big deal. I could look at this as a perk of the job, assuming the job would still be mine. But now, to find out that Jason wasn’t behind this...” she splayed her hands to encompass their

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surroundings. “To find out that this house belongs to you and that it was you who...well, it just puts a different slant on things.” A sudden breeze ruffled the fronds of the potted palms rising behind Harleigh. She shivered suddenly, prompting Mitch to reach out and take hold of her hand. “You’re cold. Let’s go back inside.” He led the way before she could find a reason to argue with him. Closing the French doors behind them, he pulled an afghan from the back of the sofa and draped it over her shoulders. “Better?” “Thanks.” “Harleigh.” He took her hands between his and gazed down at her. “It was only a hotel bill.” Harleigh’s eyes rounded. He had an uncanny ability to read her mind and it surprised her to know she liked the idea. Still, she remained stubbornly true to her own code of ethics, simultaneously taking back possession of her hands.

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of my own

accommodations.” “I know you are.” “And it wasn’t just a hotel bill.” She gestured over Mitch’s shoulder. “There is a fully stocked kitchen in there. And don’t you dare laugh at me.” Mitch quickly bit back the grin that threatened. “You make it sound as though we’ve broken the law. We have to eat.” “That’s not the point. And there’s Max. He was wonderful to me, but chauffeurs aren’t exactly cheap.” “No, but I wanted to make sure you got here safely. And a limo is infinitely more comfortable than a taxi.” She started to say something about not even being allowed to tip Max, but something in Mitch’s demeanor had her eyeing him with suspicion. “I don’t think you’re taking me seriously.” She flung off the afghan and let it fall back on the sofa. She made a move to go around him. He stepped in front of her and brought her up short. “What makes you think so?” “You probably even think I’m being silly.” “I never said that.” “Well, that smirk on your face doesn’t seem to want to go away.” She lifted her chin and glared at him, making no effort to hide her irritation. “We need to get one thing straight and that’s that I don’t need you pampering me or taking care of my responsibilities just because you happen to have more money than Bill Gates.” Mitch shook his head. “Uh...I think that might be overstating things. Donald Trump, maybe.

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Bill Gates? We’re not even in the same ballpark.” Harleigh sighed. “The point is, I make a perfectly respectable living on my own, thank you, and even if I was struggling financially, I have a very capable CPA who knows where all the little boxes are on my tax returns to deduct all of my impulsive expenses. And, by the way, I fully intend to reimburse you for the bed and breakfast.” Mitch listened patiently with arms folded and scratched his nose. “That isn’t necessary.” “Yes, it is, to me.” “The expense was minimal. And, it’s a tax write off. Besides, I told you, I...” “Yes, I know, you can afford it. You could probably afford to buy a hundred places just like it. But you’re still missing the point.” “I think the point is the one you seem to be missing altogether.” “What does that mean?” He shrugged. “Think about it. I don’t think it was a whim on my part to fly all this way. I mean, it would have been a lot easier and a helluva lot cheaper for me to simply call you and tell you I had spoken with Jason and for you to take the next plane back to Charleston. But for some strange reason, I didn’t. Why is that, I wonder?” “You said something about wanting to be near me, wanting me all to yourself.” His fingers hooked in the sash at her waist and pulled her against his length. “Good to know you’ve been paying a little attention.” She instinctively put her hands on his chest to steady herself. “More than you think. But, have you been paying attention?” “Only from the moment I first met you.” He shifted his hands to her hips, curving them around to cup her intimately through the silk. “You’re pretty hard to ignore, in case you haven’t noticed. And with Jason out of town indefinitely, you’re damn right I want you all to myself.” Bending his head, his eyes twinkled like cut sapphires as he kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you before, Ms. Boston.” “Is that so?” “That’s so. Although I must say I had heard rumors.” “What rumors?” “That you were beautiful, sassy, full of spunk, fiercely independent.” He ticked off each trait with deliberate emphasis to indicate he had found the information intriguing. “I can handle that.”

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“Not to mention stubborn, opinionated, demanding...” “Still handling it.” “And I believe someone mentioned how fickle you can be about men and relationships.” She made a moue with her mouth. “Ouch.” “That I can handle.” “Should I be flattered or forewarned?” “I’m not trying to do either. But what’s wrong with a little pampering? What’s wrong with wanting you to know I’m crazy about you?” A teasing little smile curved its way into one corner of his mouth. “Even when I thought you might be entertaining the thought of using me to give your career a boost, I didn’t care. I simply wanted to see you again.” She tilted her head sideways. “You mean you couldn’t wait to give me a taste of my own medicine.” “That, too.” His grin lacked remorse. “And even before we made love for the first time, there was no doubt in my mind I was hooked. It killed me having to leave you, and I was determined to wrap things up in Virginia as quickly as possible so I could get back to you. But Beth told me you were on your way to L.A...” He let his words trail off while Harleigh grimaced. “My intentions were honorable.” “And so are mine now.” He drew slightly back to look at her. “I want time alone with you, Harleigh. Time for us to get to know each other before Jason gets back and starts monopolizing your time and taking you away from me. My office knows how to reach me and when Jason does return, they’ll tell him where we are. Until then” He bent his head again, this time to capture her lips in a gentle kiss. “You’re mine.” Her arms encircled his neck, his words filling her with languid warmth, though she couldn’t resist teasing him in return. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a possessive streak?” “I’m not sorry for the maneuvering that got you here. Are you?” She could feel her anger rapidly fading. “What do you think?” “I am sorry, however, if I stepped on your pride or compromised you in any way.” Harleigh couldn’t resist a soft gurgle of laughter.

“I never said I didn’t want to be

compromised.” He rewarded her with a light rap across her backside. “Don’t make fun of a man when he’s apologizing. Especially when he’s about to extend a dinner invitation for tomorrow night.” “Tomorrow night?”

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“To a little hideaway less than ten miles up the coast. Afterward, we’ll walk on the beach where I can guarantee a sunset to leave you breathless.” “Umm...sounds wonderful.” “It will be. But, for the moment.” He lifted her around her waist and carried her to the sofa. When he sat down and took her with him, she straddled his lap and felt his heat torch her insides when she very neatly nestled against his steel cock. And she didn’t need a sunset to leave her breathless when he leaned forward to nuzzle her skin and loosen her sash until the folds of her robe fell open. His hands were warm and seeking beneath the silk. “You make it very difficult to stay angry with you, “ she said, letting her head fall to the side and emitting a soft moan of arousal when he pushed her breasts together and buried his face in her fullness. He paid homage to each pink nipple, his mouth warm, wet, and greedy as he suckled, teased, and worshiped her beauty. “I’m forgiven?” His hands scaled her chest and neck, moving upward to cup her face and thread the silky strands of her hair as he kissed her full on her lips. Forgive him for what, Harleigh wondered. For being so damned sexy and romantic, so willing to clear his schedule to make special time for the two of them, and so unbelievably and skillfully making her feel like the most beautiful and desirable woman alive? She gave him his answer, not in words, but in deed as she returned his kiss with one of her own, a long, lingering kiss meant to sear his soul and inflame his heart until he broke it off suddenly and rasped, “And you’re making it damned difficult for me not to fall in love with you.” The moment the words left his mouth Harleigh ceased all movement, leaning back to scan his handsome features, her gaze searching his to find truth in his confession. “ Mitch, I...how can...” “Don’t look so panicked. I’m not.” She swallowed. Hard. “Do you want to fall in love with me?” “It feels pretty damn good.” Love. How could it be possible? They had known each other such a short time. Did people fall in love this quickly? And how did she feel about him? God knew they were compatible in so many ways. But, love? She swallowed again, her face a myriad of conflicting emotions, prompting Mitch to let her off the hook for the time being. “You don’t have to say anything right now,” he murmured, his hand slipping between their bodies and finding her wetness. “Just feel my love for you...” He grazed the pad of his thumb back and forth across her most intimate feminine part, taking delight in the way she shivered and sighed, her eyes staying focused on him so he could see her pleasure, witness her surrender.

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But Harleigh wanted...no, needed to feel him, to touch and caress him in the same way he touched her. She pulled his shirt over his head, splaying her hands across his chest and down his abdomen, savoring his hard muscle and the very strength of him. When her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his sweats to boldly stroke him, his instant response had him squirming out of his pants and throwing Harleigh off balance. She laughed and clutched his shoulders for support. Her lips parted in wonder when Mitch grasped her hips with both hands and joined her body fully and completely to his. She felt him pulse at the very core of her being. She began a slow, seductive grinding that soon turned into a hot and gyrating lap dance that had Mitch tossing his head back with low, guttural groans and matching the demands of her body with each upward thrust of his own. Harleigh leaned back on her hands and rode with her climax. Her release left her weak, spent, and completely enchanted by his possession. And just before she heard his own hoarse grunt of satisfaction, she remembered his words. He was falling in love with her. For a second she wanted to tell him she returned his love. But he eased her backward on the sofa and she thrilled to his hard length so close against her body. Propping on one elbow, he gently stroked her face with his fingertips while his eyes, wide-open and warm, gazed down at her. “I trust you’re not still thinking about Jason.” The twinkle in his eye let her know he wasn’t worried in the least. “Jason, who?” “And you forgive my slick maneuvering in getting you here?” “You’re forgiven.” “And if I should have more surprises in store for you?” “Surprises are good,” she conceded. “As long as I’m allowed at least one of my own.” “Meaning?” “You’ll just have to wait and see when the opportunity presents itself.” “Not even a hint?” She zipped two fingers across her mouth in quick response. Mitch grinned. “Fair enough. For now, to show my good faith, I’ll prove I’m not a complete chauvinist by insisting you pick up half the tab at dinner tomorrow night.” Harleigh looked appropriately insulted. “Excuse me, but a gentleman doesn’t ask a lady on a date and suggest they go dutch.” Mitch threw his head back and laughed, unsure whether to shake her or kiss her. It took less than a second for him to exercise the latter option.

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Chapter Nine

“Has anyone ever told you that you eat like a field hand?” Harleigh grinned, not in the least offended by Mitch’s bluntness. “My mother would disagree.” She finished applying her lipstick and snapped her compact shut. She dropped both items back inside her purse before settling against the seat. She crossed her arms in front of her and shot Mitch a teasing look. “Fishing for compliments this morning?” Mitch took his eyes off the road for a second and frowned. “Excuse me? How did this get turned back on me?” Harleigh shrugged. “After the workout you gave me last night, a girl’s gotta eat to keep up her strength. And I don’t mind adding I look forward to many more main events.” This time, Mitch laughed and Harleigh noted he looked quite pleased with himself. “May I say you proved yourself a worthy opponent? Had we performed in the ring, it would easily have been called a draw based on endurance alone.” Harleigh readily agreed. “What about creativity?” “Of course. There was plenty of that. Not to mention skill, stamina, and enthusiasm.” “Don’t forget flexibility.” “Now who’s fishing for compliments?” They laughed together while Mitch reached over and took her hand, lightly brushing his lips across the backs of her fingers. “I repeat. Chasing you across the country has been well worth the effort.” A smile of contentment curved its way into Harleigh’s lips and she leaned her head back to bask in both the compliment and the warm sun filtering through the windshield.

They drove on in

companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Almost a week had passed since she impulsively boarded a plane with intentions to see Jason, and any feelings of regret had quickly vanished in the company of the man sitting beside her. If she only suspected it before, she knew for certain now. She had fallen in love. Mitch outshone any man she had ever met in her life, and she still marveled at her good fortune to have met him. Besides being intelligent and charming, he possessed a wicked sense of humor and an innate sense of who he was and what he wanted out of life. He didn’t appear to have a pretentious bone in his body, and in a short amount of time, she discovered he possessed many talents. He could grill a steak

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that melted in her mouth, tell a joke like a seasoned comic, and croon a love song in a surprisingly smooth and pleasant baritone. He even played piano, a feat he promised to demonstrate upon their return back to the east coast. She also learned he shared a close, albeit long-distance relationship with his parents and two younger sisters and their families, all living within a mile’s radius of one another in Denver. He made no bones about wanting her with him at the next Brannigan family reunion where he could show off his growing bevy of nieces and nephews. The icing on the cake came from their physical and sexual compatibility. Whether in bed, on the floor, against the wall, draped across the sofa, they were made for loving one another. And, of course, she couldn’t discount her personal favorite, the barstool. Had she been born the bragging sort, she’d have been on the phone in a heartbeat detailing to an appreciative Beth the “all up in your toes sex” she and Mitch enjoyed on a nightly basis, not to mention mornings and an occasional afternoon when they weren’t preoccupied with other activities. Mitch hadn’t understated himself when he said he wanted time alone with her, time for the two of them to get to know each other. And he’d made sure the process was fun, spontaneous, and romantic, not to mention exhausting. Each day had been a new adventure, but each one filled with laughter, great food, hand-holding, and stolen kisses. Day one, a private helicopter ride over the City of Angels. Day two, a trip to the San Diego Zoo to see some of the world’s rarest animals. Day three, a glimpse into the lives of the rich and famous with an eye-popping tour of Beverly Hills and Rodeo Drive. And day four, her favorite. A full day at Disneyland with a man whose sense of fun and adventure had equaled, if not surpassed her own. But no matter how long the day or how tired when they returned to the beach house, it only took the slightest touch or one meaningful stare before they fell into each other’s arms and made love as passionately and sensually as the first time. Wrapped within the protection of Mitch’s arms, a satiated Harleigh drifted off to sleep each night blissfully content and unable to think of a single black cloud to mar their newfound happiness. Mitch turned off the ignition and silenced the low hum of his rented Porsche. The distinct change in noise and movement jarred Harleigh from her nap.

She yawned and lifted her head,

automatically glancing at Mitch with a sheepish grin. “I must have fallen asleep. Why didn’t you wake me up?” He gave her a sly wink. “I was enjoying the peace and quiet too much.” “Ha-ha. Regular comedian.” Harleigh stifled another yawn. “At least you didn’t accuse me of

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snoring.” “A gentleman never tells.” Harleigh gave him her most indignant expression. “I beg your pardon. I’ll have you know I do not snore.” In response, Mitch leaned over and curved one hand around her neck and reined her in for a warm, lingering kiss. “You sleep pretty,” he murmured when he released her. “But, even if you did snore, I’d still find you irresistible.” “How come you always know the right thing to say?” “With you it just comes naturally.” Harleigh grunted her skepticism. “Ok, what’s the deal?” She glanced at her watch. “It’s barely ten. We’ve done the helicopter, the shopping and touring, the roller coaster and Tower of Terror. What’s next? Bungee jumping off the U.S. Bank Tower? It has to be something big to warrant such early morning sweet talk.” Mitch grinned. “We’re taking things a little slower today. Why don’t you step outside the car and see if you can guess what’s on the agenda?” Intrigued, Harleigh hesitated only a second before taking him up on his suggestion. She opened the passenger door and slid from the seat. The L.A. weather purported to be moderate all year long, but this early November morning seemed almost too perfect as she raised her face to the sun and let it bathe her cheeks with its pleasing warmth. She took a moment to simply stretch her limbs and savor the feeling of contentment at its finest. She knew Mitch now stood behind her, but she didn’t turn around. Instead, hands on hips, she gazed in awe at the breathtaking landscape of mountains, trees, and ocean as far as her trained eyes could see. “What is this place?” Mitch leaned in close to her ear. “It’s a golf course.” She cut her eyes at him with a scowl. “Well, I can see that. But it’s magnificent. How did you find it?” He shrugged, though a hint of pride laced his next words. “I designed it about eight years ago. It’s actually one of my favorites.” Harleigh felt a certain amount of pride herself in Mitch’s accomplishments.

“Well, Mr.

Brannigan,” she stated in all sincerity, “I am impressed. If the rest of the course is as beautiful and welcoming as the front door, so to speak, I dare say your talent and imagination definitely warrant all the

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publicity and admiration they receive. I’ll be looking forward to the grand tour.” With a self-satisfied smile, she reached for the door handle with all intentions of getting back inside the car. Mitch quickly slid his large body in between hers and the passenger door. “What’s wrong with right now?” His hands descended on her shoulders to hold her firmly in place. “Don’t even think about it, Brannigan.”

Unfazed by Mitch’s greater height and strength,

Harleigh reached around him to again take hold of the door handle, but he blocked her attempt. “After all the thrill rides we’ve taken this week, you’re going to let a little golf game scare you off?” “Now that you mention it.” She pulled at her ear, and wondered if she could whine her way out of the situation. “Mitch, my clubs are in Charleston. I’m just a hacker without them.” In response, Mitch purposefully turned her head just in time to see a golf cart moving in their direction. When the driver got within several feet, he turned the cart slightly and stopped, which gave Harleigh a good view of the backside. “Are you talking about those?” Harleigh’s jaw dropped as she glanced first at Mitch and back at the cart. “Those are my clubs.” “And mine. I had them flown out. Courtesy of the Liz and Beth task team.” “You went to all that trouble just for a golf game?” “It was no trouble.” He grabbed her hand and led her to the cart. “And this is not just a golf game.” The driver emerged from the cart and came around to shake Mitch’s hand. “Beautiful day to play, Mitch.”

The sandy-haired man tipped his cap in Harleigh’s direction.

“Wanna make it a

foursome? Joe was just saying...” Mitch laughed and cut him off. “Sorry, Greg, but this beautiful lady is all mine. May I introduce Harleigh Boston?” He turned to Harleigh and pulled her to his side. “Baby, this is Greg Linton. He’s the resident pro here.” Harleigh held out one hand, which Greg promptly accepted. “Hello, Greg. It’s nice to meet you.” “Nice to meet you, too, Harleigh.” She glanced around and back at Greg. “It’s a beautiful course from what I can see. But is it always this slow?” Greg grinned. “Mitch reserved the course for the day. Said he didn’t want any distractions. And since he’s being a spoil sport even about a foursome, I’ll be in the pro shop hexing him with bogies

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and bunker shots.” Harleigh giggled. “Thanks. I already know his reputation on the course, so I’ll need all the help I can get.” She glanced up at Mitch who didn’t seem in the least perturbed by the exchange going on right beneath his nose. After Greg said his goodbyes and left, Harleigh eyed Mitch with awe. “You reserved the course for a whole day? It’s just the two of us?” He shrugged. “Like I said, no distractions.” “You really want to do this, don’t you?” “You said you had a respectable handicap. Here’s your chance to prove it.” Still not convinced, Harleigh stood her ground. “I meant respectable in the company of players in my league. We both know I’m well out of yours.” Mitch leaned down and placed a quick kiss on her lips. “You said you were a fly-by-the-seat-ofyour-pants kind of girl. Think of this as just another challenge.” Harleigh glanced down at her matching blouse and cropped skirt. Perfectly respectable for a round of eighteen, and Mitch could easily pass for a pro in his oxford slacks and crisp shirt. She sighed, and wondered at her hesitancy. What woman in her right mind would pass up a chance to enjoy such a glorious day surrounded by beautiful scenery, not the least of which was the six foot three hunk staring expectantly at her and waiting for her to say yes to a simple game of golf? So what if she hadn’t played in months. They weren’t exactly competing in a tournament. And she certainly had nothing to prove as far as her athletic abilities were concerned. “Okay,” she acquiesced, “since you’re so determined. How many strokes do I get?” Mitch took less than a second to mull it over. “I’ll give you twelve off the bat to even our handicaps. I’ll throw in four more for extra leverage.” His devilish chuckle sent up a warning flag and Harleigh eyed him with suspicion. “That’s a generous advantage. Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?” “Somehow I think you’re up for the challenge.” “What are the stakes here?” “Surprise me.” Harleigh frowned. “What?” “You said you wanted to surprise me when the opportunity presented itself. Today’s the day. Although, I have to warn you I play to win. I’ll let you decide what my winnings are.” He kissed her again and seated himself behind the wheel. After a moment, he glanced at Harleigh still standing on the

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cart path. “Are you coming?” No distractions. She cocked her head to the side and shot him a look of mischief. “One of us will be before the day is over.”

***

Harleigh didn’t doubt for a moment which one of them would prevail by the end of eighteen holes. Having lived in golf communities her whole life, not to mention having a father and three brothers around to teach her the fundamentals of the game, her ‘twelve’ handicap held her in good stead with a variety of partners over the years. But Mitch Brannigan came from a different league altogether. Notwithstanding his scratch handicap, he had years of designing golf courses under his belt, including the very one they now stood upon. Which gave him the added advantage of playing on home turf, so to speak. And which meant she would have to find a way to beat him at his own game, whether on or off the links. Was she competitive by nature? Yes. Did she have a strong moral code to play fairly? Absolutely. But would she willingly go down without a fight? Never! With these strategies in mind, she graciously gave Mitch his due when he hit a drive at least three-hundred yards on the par four, first hole. “Very nice, Brannigan. I’m impressed.” She flashed him a winning smile and prepared for her own first shot from the ladies’ red tee. As Mitch watched from the sidelines, she felt a certain amount of pride when her natural swing enabled her ball to not only land a respectable distance in the center of the fairway, but from Mitch’s ball as well. “Ditto on impressions,” an approving Mitch declared when they met back at the cart. “Something tells me this is going to be more of a challenge than I thought.” “If you only knew,” Harleigh muttered beneath her breath. Mitch released the brake and headed back up the path before glancing in her direction. “Did you say something?” She shrugged. “Nothing important.” She placed a lingering hand on his upper thigh and squeezed. “This is going to be fun.” Mitch quirked an eyebrow at her, but said nothing until he stopped again. He eyed her ball

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across the way. “You’ve got a great lie there. I’d say you’re about one-hundred and sixty yards out. If I were you, I’d use my...” “No help, please.” With her hand still on his thigh, Harleigh reached up, surprised him with a warm kiss, and jumped out of the cart. “I know which club to use.” She wrinkled her nose at him and grabbed her seven iron from her bag and headed back out to the fairway. Her second shot fell short of the green. Mitch’s second shot landed three feet from the hole. No doubt his first birdie. When her third shot placed just behind his, she smiled to herself. Normally a quick player, she took her time checking the lie of her putt. She sensed Mitch just a few feet behind her also checking the lie of his putt. Twice she leaned over and brushed away an imaginary obstacle. And twice, when her cropped skirt rose up the back of her thighs, she silently congratulated herself for her dedication to her treadmill. When she putted in for par, Mitch congratulated her with an easy grin before collecting his birdie. One hole down, seventeen to go. Plenty of time to turn that easy grin into a frown of defeat. But Harleigh thought she’d prefer a look of anticipation and oh, the things she wanted him to anticipate for the night. For the next three holes, Harleigh played her usual game by utilizing her strengths and instincts. Good form, solid swing, steady putting. Her chip shots fell under the category of weaknesses, and history repeated itself when she had back-to-back bunker shots. Mitch, on the other hand, proved his skill early on with one par and three birdies at the end of four holes. Harleigh decided he looked entirely too pleased with himself. Time to start putting on the heat and making him sweat a little. If not with her club, definitely with her more natural assets. As Mitch halted the cart on the fifth hole, Harleigh blew out a whoosh of air and fanned her cheeks. “Is it me or is it getting warmer?” She shook her hair back and laughed. “This blouse has got to go.” Before Mitch had time to respond, she deftly unbuttoned her blouse and let it slide off her shoulders. She swung out of the cart, turned, and placed the folded garment beneath the dash. She barely contained a smile of victory when she glanced up to see Mitch’s gaze trained well below her neck. The spaghetti tank top she wore gave her breasts a voluptuous lift. She swore she saw Mitch’s Adam apple bob once or twice. Innocently, she slid her fingers beneath the material and plumped one breast at a time with an exaggerated sigh. “These stretch tops are so uncomfortable sometimes.” Grabbing her driver, she glanced back over her shoulder. “Are you coming?”

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She almost laughed out loud when she heard him mumble something beneath his breath before he retrieved his own club and headed for the tee. As she watched him perfect his stance, she drew in a breath of awe to again realize the magnificent specimen of manhood he presented. How did she get so lucky? As he approached, she deliberately slowed her pace on her way to her tee box. “You should be playing professionally.

No wonder Daddy enjoys the game with you.

You make every hole a

challenge.” She stepped in front of him and gave him her prettiest smile. Deliberately sliding her hand up the front of his chest, she palmed his face and stood on tiptoe to kiss him fully on his mouth. He responded eagerly, and she felt herself cream when his large hand slid beneath her skirt and cupped her ass. Afraid he could easily turn the tables on her, she giggled and stood back, but not before catching his hand and letting it accidentally smooth across her breasts. “Down, boy. We haven’t even finished the front nine yet.” “Harleigh?” He said her name almost as a warning. “Yes?” She perfected a look of complete innocence. “Is there something wrong?” He seemed to want to say something, instead, muttered, “we may not make it to the back nine.” By the time they did make it to the back nine, Harleigh saw a distinct change in Mitch’s skill on the golf course. Though he sunk a twelve foot putt on one hole, chipped in from the bunker on another, and shot an eagle on the par five, seventeenth hole, those shots of the day didn’t completely dispel his embarrassment at shanking his ball at the precise moment she chose to “plump” each breast again. Or worse, when he missed a two-foot putt, a feat undoubtedly caused by her tossing her rear end in the air to retrieve her ball marker. By the eighteenth hole, she had lost the game score wise, but considered herself the victor hands down if Mitch’s scowling face and silence gave any indication. Replacing the last flag of the day, she smiled broadly as she handed him his ball. “I’m so glad you suggested this. I’ve had a great time. Makes me want to golf more often.” “Enjoyed yourself, did you?” Mitch’s blue eyes narrowed slightly, but his question held little bite. “Every minute,” she responded easily. “You definitely play to win. Makes it really tough on those of us with less skill.” She propped her club over her shoulder and started past him. She cupped his ass and squeezed. “I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.”

***

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“I’m impressed.” Harleigh’s hand halted as she started to sip from her wine glass. She glanced across the linen covered table and gave Mitch a satisfied grin. “Thanks. I’m no Laura Davies, but I did okay.” “Your game is more than okay. But I was referring to the T & A show you put on.” “Excuse me?” Seeing those magnificent green eyes blink with such innocence made Mitch sit back in his chair and laugh outright. “I think I’ve said this before, but you don’t play fair, lady.” She gave a wounded gasp. “What are you talking about? I counted all my strokes, I didn’t talk unnecessarily, and I seem to recall slapping you a high five when you beat me fairly and squarely.” This time, he scoffed. “I beat you by a mere four strokes, but one more boob shot or shake of that tight ass of yours and I’d have been the one slapping the high five.” “You deserved it, you know. I needed something in my arsenal to put the heat on.” “And you succeeded magnificently.” He readjusted himself in his chair and frowned. “I feel like I’m wearing my three wood.” Harleigh promptly burst out laughing. “You say the nicest things.” She took a swallow of her wine and replaced the glass on the table to resume eating. After their round of eighteen, Mitch had offered to treat her to dinner to her choice of restaurant as a consolation prize. Especially since, as he gamely phrased it, he very much looked forward to collecting his winnings later that evening. She had chosen a quaint little Italian café just off the coastline that boasted outside terrace seating. Soft lighting created a soothing ambience for the wandering voices singing acappella. While Mitch ordered the house specialty of red fillet snapper, she chose the traditional spaghetti and meatballs. “The lady likes meatballs, after all,” he teased, reaching over with his napkin to blot one corner of her mouth. “Ironic, don’t you think, seeing as it was meatballs that brought us together in the first place?” Harleigh scrunched up her nose. “And here I thought it was my beauty, charm, and talent that made you take notice. First, you beat me on the golf course, now you want to shatter my ego as well.” She broke a piece of bread in half and offered him one. “Careful, Brannigan, or this French bread may turn out to be your much anticipated winnings.” He grinned.

“Not likely, since dinner’s on me.

Anything I buy can’t be considered my

winnings.” Harleigh shrugged, completely unruffled. “You’re absolutely right. And I fully intend to see

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that you collect your winnings. Although...” She let her words trail off while she purposefully took her time munching on her half of the bread. “Although what?” Mitch leaned on his forearms and let his gaze linger on her butter-glistened lips. “Don’t keep me in suspense.” Harleigh enjoyed one last swallow of her wine, ran her tongue across her bottom lip and shot him a mysterious smile. “After this night is over, you may be wishing you had let me win today.” A bark of laughter from Mitch’s side of the table rang out. “This should be good. Tell me why I should have let you win.” Harleigh wouldn’t budge. Instead, she simply placed her eating utensils on her plate with ladylike ease. She neatly folded her napkin and laid it on the table. “Shall we go? We have a long drive back to the beach house.” She stood up and retrieved her purse before pushing her chair in and glancing back across the table. “Oh, and Mitch, I believe I saw you consume at least four glasses of wine. I think perhaps I should drive back while you take a little catnap. With the surprise I have in store for you, you’re going to need all of your wits, strength, and then some.” With a quick wink at his surprised countenance, she blithely turned and walked away, leaving him alone to settle their bill.

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Chapter Ten

A steady downpour blanketed the beach by the time they arrived home from dinner, but Harleigh wasted no time in preparing for Mitch’s “surprise.” Apparently unconcerned by her veiled warning, Mitch took her up on her offer and slept during the forty-five minute drive back to the beach. And on her instructions, he took a quick shower and simply threw on his sweats, obviously anticipating the less he wore, the better for whatever Harleigh had in store for him. The lady in question found it difficult not to burst out laughing when she told Mitch she would try not to make him wait too long to collect on his victory. Smug best described his expression when she shooed him out of the bedroom and told him to watch television or design a golf course until she called him. Less than an hour later, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror to study her reflection. She almost wanted to giggle at her appearance since she had never ventured into such territory before. Not that she considered herself a prude. Especially after Mitch unequivocally unleashed the hidden depths of her sensuality. There simply had never been a man she considered worthy enough of such hands on attention from her. So in some respect, this would not only be a treat for Mitch, but for her as well. And she could certainly be thankful for the years of dance lessons paid for by her accommodating parents.

This time she giggled at the notion that the kind of dancing she’d be

performing tonight would rattle every conservative and oh-so-ladylike bone in her mother’s body. With one quick adjustment of her dress strap, Harleigh pushed a note beneath the bedroom door. She called his name and slipped from view and waited. She heard him almost immediately turn the knob. He hesitated as he obviously saw the note on the floor. She heard the rustling of the paper and Mitch’s husky laughter as he read the message. From her vantage point, she saw him enter the room and delighted in the look of surprise that brought a knowing smile to his face. She had placed and lit at least two dozen candles all over the room and had pulled the satin sheets down and plumped the pillows on the massive four-poster. On one side table, she had arranged a bottle of champagne on ice and fluted glasses. On the other table, a linen napkin covered the contents of a serving tray. Harleigh bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing and revealing her whereabouts, for not only did his expression bear the look of victory, but he looked like a man confident he had the situation under control.

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Just remember the note, Mitch. Remember the rules if you want your surprise played out to the end. Much to her relief, he understood the note as he settled himself in the chair she placed for him. She had a moment of unease she couldn’t go through with her performance. The flickering lights from the candles played over his beautiful face and chiseled torso. She allowed her gaze to trail down to the juncture of his thighs. Call it anticipation on his part or simply desire alone, but she didn’t imagine his cock had already arrived in full dress for the party. She swallowed hard at the picture of pure sex he exhibited. If her simple T & A show made him uncomfortable, she could only imagine what Act Two would accomplish.

***

The combination of candles, satin sheets, and music proved a great success in getting Mitch’s attention. The lady had obviously gone to a lot of trouble in creating such a sensual scenario and his excitement skyrocketed on anticipation alone. But nothing prepared him for the sight of Harleigh slinking into the room, emerging from the shadows with her exquisite curves poured into a black confection of silky straps and lace. She had clipped her hair high on top of her head, exposing the graceful line of her neck, and her smile personified decadent promises to be delivered. Her body moved in perfect sync with the sensual strains of the music. It took him less than a second to realize his surprise, or he hoped a small part of it, was a private striptease for his eyes only. Time stood still. Life ceased to exist outside the four walls. Fascinated. Mesmerized. Enchanted. Unable to think, to move, to breathe. All of these things described the man whose eyes never strayed from the blond vision in black silk dancing slowly toward him. Already he squirmed in his seat, his cock growing harder by the second. To glimpse her nipples peeking through the lace. To see her hips gyrating, thrusting forward, her hands fisting in the silk dress as she moved them up and down her torso with slow, sexy rotations. And when she palmed her pussy, baiting him unmercifully with her natural exhibitionism, his determination to simply sit and watch her performance warred with every impulse demanding he sweep her into his arms and fuck her. Dancing closer to him, she slipped her dress from one shoulder at a time to let it fall to the floor at her feet. With graceful ease, she stepped out and kicked the garment to the side, leaving herself naked except for her thong and spiky heels.

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Mitch’s gaze devoured her perfect breasts, bouncing, teasing, torturing him as she moved seductively in a circle. She turned and bent from her waist to taunt him with her tight ass. God, she knew how to work that ass. His heart hammered in his chest, and for a moment he wondered if she remained oblivious to his pain. But she rubbed one hand slowly down her cheek where it lingered on her mouth, reminding him how soft, how pliant she was, how she was made for kissing. She came within arm’s length and he knew he could reach out and touch her, but he remembered the note. For your visual enjoyment only. No touching is allowed...or your pleasures are forfeited. He closed his eyes to gather his wits, to summon every last ounce of his strength and willpower, all of which he would need tenfold to survive what she had in store for him. Confident he had himself under control, he opened his eyes again. Jesus. Harleigh now sat on the floor in front of him, her legs spread high and wide in the air. She gave him an unadulterated view of the triangle of black silk covering her pussy. He could barely swallow now. His ears roared. He felt like a man dying to think this might be her intention. To make him want her to the point he became a blubbering idiot begging for one morsel of her sweetness. This time she smiled at him, a smile he readily recognized. It said, ‘Oh yes, I’m yours, but only when I say so.’ He grinned. There had been no rule about grinning. He liked this game, after all. A game of cat and mouse. One he hadn’t played since high school. It sure beat the hell out of golf. When she suddenly lifted to her knees, she whipped his legs apart and crawled into his lap. Instinctively, without thought, his hands moved to grasp her gyrating hips. No touching allowed Shit. Again though, no rules about groaning. And he did. A loud, torturous groan as he gripped the arms of the chair to play by her rules. But the feel of her silk covered clit grinding across his cock destroyed him, annihilated him. A wicked chuckle from Harleigh confirmed she knew exactly what she was doing to him. And she loved every minute of the power she now wielded in spades. When he thought he couldn’t stand another second of her blatant tactics, she eased off his lap and left him, maintaining her seductive moves to pull a chair between them. With the ease of a natural born dancer, she lifted her leg high until her spiky heel rested over his shoulder. His eyes trailed a fiery path from her painted toenails to her slim ankle up her smooth calf and toned thigh. If he moved a fraction of an inch, he could taste her naked

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flesh. Thank God for his one-hundred and fifty-plus IQ. No touching meant no touching, period. And he wasn’t about to forfeit his pleasures, not when the temperature in the room rose ten degrees with every move she made. Make that fifteen degrees when she rolled her body toward him and pulled down one side of her thong. And when she suddenly whipped around with her hair flying and bent over to step out of her thong completely, Mitch felt his tongue swell and his eyes glaze over. Sexy. Sensual. Stunning. She wore her nudity like a Greek statue. Totally confident, completely uninhibited, as she sat backward on his lap and again began that slow, torturous gyration of her lower body. Now only his sweats separated them and when she quickly stood, turned around, and sat on his lap to face him, her eyes locked with his, daring him to break the rules. She rocked to and fro to simulate a woman riding her man while lifting her hands to release her hair and shake it from its clip. Suddenly, her limber body fell backward from her waist. The silky strands of her hair dusted the floor while her movements made her breasts bob up and down and torture him with their sweet smelling, rock-hard nipples. She drove him beyond crazy and he said as much, though his voice sounded strangled and foreign to his own ears. He was amazed he could speak at all. “You’re killing me, Sweetheart. You’re watching a man die a slow death.” She merely laughed and popped back up still gyrating, still swinging her hips with wanton abandonment until finally, mercifully, she ceased abusing him and laid her cheek softly against his for a breath of a second. Slowly rising, she took his hand and coaxed him to the bed, where she playfully pushed him back against the pillows. “Now, Harleigh?” She obviously read his mind and grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Not yet, baby. I want you to get everything you deserve for winning today.” Mitch grunted. “I have a big mouth and a bigger ego.” “Yes you do,” Harleigh allowed as she straddled his thighs and smoothed her hands up the length of his chest. Sliding them back down his sides, she slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of his sweats and pulled them down. His cock sprang forth, eliciting a husky murmur from Harleigh’s lips. “And my, oh my, look what’s even bigger than your ego.” She took him in her hands and laughed when he tensed and bunched the sheets beneath his fingers. “Open your legs for me, baby.” She took no mercy on him as she began a slow up and down motion with one hand while the other cupped his sack and lovingly squeezed it in her palm. “You’re

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huge, you know. You’re magnificent. You leave me breathless with anticipation.” As her hands worked their magic, Mitch swore his balls had never felt so hard. But when she bent down and took the head of his cock inside her mouth, he muttered a curse to the heavens that never again would he challenge her to a game of any sort. Unless they played by his rules. Her rules could easily send him to an early grave. He had once thought of her as the little princess. Ha! What a joke on him. She wasn’t a princess. She was a witch, a sorceress, the devil incarnate to tease and torment him to the point of insanity. The ends of her hair tickled his belly while her tongue, mouth, and teeth worked his cock like a damn ice cream cone. “Harleigh!” Her name ripped from his throat, but failed to penetrate her ministrations. His hands fisted in her hair. “Harleigh, enough’s enough. You win. I’ll never beat you at golf again. Just let me fuck you now before I go insane.” She lifted her head and deliberately ran her tongue across her lower lip. “Oh you can fuck me, baby. All night if you want to. But first...” She scooted higher on the bed until her knees straddled his face. “I want you to eat me.” Her baby soft whisper floated down like music to his ears and she lowered her hips in blatant invitation. “Make me beg for mercy.” Mitch needed no further encouragement. His hands grabbed her ass and yanked her forward so he could plunge his tongue into her wet pussy. Somewhere in the distance he heard her cry out, but the sound merely inflamed his need for her and he loved her, worshiped her, feasted on her womanly juices. Harleigh held nothing back. She met each thrust of his tongue, whimpered with every nip of his teeth, and trusted him to fulfill her most intimate desires. His own needs and desires fell by the wayside, though it was Harleigh’s gift to him with her complete and unbridled response to his primitive assault. He knew the precise moment she tensed and she reared back with a keening moan of release as she came sweetly, hotly in his mouth. He maintained his hold on her hips to give her time to relax and eased her back against the sheets as he rose up on his knees. She blinked and stared up at him with such wonder, he couldn’t help but laugh with male superiority. He leaned over and kissed her trembling mouth. “Who’s in the driver’s seat now, baby?” She merely gave him a half smile, stretched her arms luxuriously over her head and grabbed on to the backboard of the bed with both hands. “You are. Now shut up and fuck me.” “With pleasure.” Losing no momentum, he propped Harleigh’s calves over his shoulders and rammed his pulsing cock inside her. He watched her head snap back and her breasts bounce up and down as his fingers dug into her soft skin and positioned her at the perfect angle. In a frenzy of passion,

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his body slapped against hers as he pummeled her again and again, the tip of his cock touching every part of her until she cried out with another orgasm. The sounds of Harleigh’s fulfillment drove him over the edge and he rammed into her one last time as his own release rent the air with a slow, ragged groan. Mitch collapsed back on the bed beside her and closed his eyes. His chest and body still heaved with exertion while he heard Harleigh’s own breathing slowly return to normal. After a moment, he opened his eyes again and turned his head. Green eyes stared into his soul followed by an impish grin that charmed him to the core. “I bet this tops anything you and Daddy do after a day of golf.” Mitch laughed and rolled over on his side. “May I say, Ms. Boston, you dazzle me?” “Oh, I like the sound of that.” Propped on one elbow, Harleigh splayed her fingers across Mitch’s chest and drew lazy patterns in the light sprinkling of hair. Her eyes twinkled with wanton delight. “It makes me happy you enjoyed yourself.” He captured her hand in his and brought it to his mouth. In between a lingering kiss on each knuckle, he murmured, “There are no words to describe what you just did to me.” “It must have been the lap dance. Guys like that.” Her flippancy made the muscles in his stomach sharply contract. With a start, he identified the source.

Jealousy.

Something he couldn’t remember ever feeling before with another woman.

“Performed that many, have you?” That made Harleigh laugh out loud. “Of course. Didn’t you know I have this secret little room in my shop where I give private lap dances to all my male customers while wearing one of my very own intimate creations?” She laughed again, but sobered instantly when he didn’t join in the fun. Her jaw dropped. “Mitch? I’m teasing. You know that, right?” He continued to watch her quietly, as though trying to decide if she spoke the truth. His gaze narrowed, his chin hardened, but seeing the righteous indignation flashing back at him proved his undoing. The corners of his mouth lifted and she rewarded him with a not so gentle rap in his solar plexus. “You’re a rat,” Harleigh pouted good-naturedly as she rose from the bed to retrieve the bottle of champagne and glasses from the table. Mitch delighted in seeing her romp around in her nudity with such carefree abandon. She still wore her spiky heels, which made him appreciate the view even more. He repositioned himself on the bed and propped the pillows behind him. When Harleigh handed him the bottle to uncork, he did so without spilling a drop and promptly filled each of their glasses with the bubbly liquid. Replacing the bottle on the table, he accepted a glass from Harleigh and leaned over

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and kissed her softly on the mouth. “Damn, how did I get so lucky to fall in love with such a sexy witch?” Harleigh sipped her champagne. “Better a witch than a bitch, I guess.” “Why would I call you a bitch?” She gave a light shrug. “For teasing you unmercifully. The no touching rule. For hopefully making you feel just a little less superior for beating me on the golf course today. Take your pick.” He drained his glass in one gulp and tossed it on the bed. “So this was payback time, was it?” Harleigh followed suit and finished off her champagne as well. “Maybe.” Mitch grunted. “Well, it almost worked.” She cocked her head to one side, her breasts taunting him with their impudence. “What do you mean it almost worked? I had you practically begging for mercy.” “Nope, sorry.” He tweaked a nipple between his fingers. “I was in control the whole time. I just didn’t want to spoil your fun.” In retaliation, Harleigh slapped his hand away and vainly tried to escape from the bed. But she couldn’t match his superior strength and Mitch ruthlessly used it to his advantage. Laughing, his arms imprisoned her, though she continued her lame struggles. “By the way, what’s on the tray over there?” She glared at him with daggers in her eyes. “Dried fruit.” “Dried fruit?” “I found it in the pantry. I was going to hand feed it to you.” Mitch chuckled. “Meaning you’re not now?” “After that crack, you’re lucky I don’t shove a raisin or an apricot up your nose.” His laughter grew louder as he effortlessly flipped Harleigh onto her back. He pinned her wrists above her head with one hand and stared down at her mutinous scowl. “Don’t you know by now how much I love to tease you?” “Don’t you mean make fun of me?” “Never.” He grinned and swooped down to plunder her mouth. She struggled for less than a second more before her body relaxed and she began kissing him back in a way that made his head swim and his heart soar. They kissed long, sensually, passionately, then slowly and sweetly, before Mitch finally raised his head to gaze down at her. “You are a witch,” he said softly. “You have this most incredible and unbelievable power over me. You’re like a drug. I can’t get enough of you.” She blinked, and whispered, “Don’t expect me to ease up.” “No mercy?”

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“No mercy.” He pretended to shudder and grinned again, relaxing his hold on her. “You’re ruthless, you know. You put a lot of pressure on a man.” “You don’t seem to have any problem holding up your end.” She yawned and burrowed her head and nestled against him. “No pun intended.” Before he could respond, Mitch felt and heard Harleigh’s surrender. He kissed the top of her head, smiled, and pulled her closer. His private lap dancer had fallen fast asleep.

***

Mitch stretched and opened one eye to see three a.m. illuminated in the face of the bedside clock. He heard the rain still coming down in torrents outside and rolled over seeking Harleigh’s warmth. Both eyes opened to find her gone. He sat up and glanced around the room until he saw the light beneath the door. Why the hell would she be up at this ungodly hour? He stretched and yawned and flung the covers back and swung his feet to the floor. He pulled his sweat pants back on and went in search of her. Once again he found her curled up in the settee, this time wide awake and wearing his robe. With at least a dozen drawings lying either on the table or floor around her, she seemed deeply engrossed as her hand moved swiftly back and forth across a sketch pad. “What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?” Harleigh jumped at the sound of his voice, but only spared him a glance. “It’s over, Mitch. It’s finally over.” With her head still bent over her pad, she continued to sketch. Her deft fingers brought to life a creation that even to Mitch’s untrained eye looked stunning. He knelt down and braced his arms across the back of the settee. “What’s over, Sweetheart?” Again, she barely looked up, but Harleigh’s tone defined her enthusiasm. “This funk I’ve been in. I haven’t been able to create anything worth a damn for weeks. I was starting to think my designing career was over before it really began.” After switching a black pencil for a silver one, her wrist flew across the page as she drew bold slashes across her model’s torso. “I thought the offer from Jason would trigger my imagination, and when it didn’t, I started thinking up ways to turn his offer down just in case.” Mitch scratched his nose. “I’m glad to know that won’t happen. So what brought about this burst of creation?”

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Harleigh’s hand stilled and he saw one corner of her mouth lift. But when she turned her head and looked directly at him, her smile warmed the pit of his stomach. “How can you ask me that?” She laid her pencil and pad aside, then turned around on her knees until their faces were just inches apart. “You did, Mitch. You make everything I see or do or touch seem larger than life.” “I do all of that?” “I think I’m scared to death I’m going to wake up and find this has all been a dream.” Mitch leaned in and gently kissed her. “Dreams can be nice, but this is no dream, baby. I love you. It can’t get more real than this.” She smoothed her fingers across his mouth as though to reassure herself she hadn’t dreamed him. “I’ve never told you.” “I know. I’m patient.” “I’m telling you now.” “I’m listening.” “I love you.” Without saying another word, Mitch stood and scooped her into his arms and carried her back to their bedroom.

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Chapter Eleven

A brisk breeze fanned Harleigh’s face as she stood on the deck and sipped her coffee. Remnants of yesterday’s rain still permeated the air, and she breathed in the fresh smell of a new day while waiting for Mitch to return from his jog. Mitch. The mere thought of him brought a smile to her face. Last night she confessed her true feelings for him, and their lovemaking had taken on a languid sweetness, giving her a sense of being truly connected to another human being. With each touch and caress, with every whisper they shared, she fell deeper in love with the man. And yet, she couldn’t deny a certain sadness to know their idyllic days would soon end. They couldn’t stay in L.A. forever. Not with busy lives, families, and responsibilities waiting for them. Not to mention rumors still waiting to be resolved. Rumors such as a faux engagement, a possibly secret wedding, and of course, the impending, though completely false pregnancy. Nothing fatal. Or as Mitch had said, nothing that couldn’t be fixed. “Guilt. Plain and simple,” Harleigh muttered to herself as she rested her forearms on the deck railing. Guilt riddled her insides for not taking the time to call her parents in case the rumors had circulated back to Hilton Head. Not that she feared retribution from them. Or disappointment for that matter. She knew how much they liked and respected Mitch. She also knew they would see the humor in the situation. Hell, her father would no doubt embrace her in one of his infamous bear hugs at the prospect of bringing Mitch into the family fold. Maybe she hadn’t called them because her relationship with Mitch was still too new. Too raw. Or maybe, and this reason seemed the most plausible one of all, she wanted him all to herself. She simply wasn’t ready to share him with anyone. She cradled her cup in her hands and sighed, letting contentment overrule guilt for the moment. Less than a month ago, she had been celibate with no prospects and a struggling designer with no designs. And now she knew what it meant to have the world on a string. She’d even go so far to say she was living every woman’s fantasy. And all because of the lone jogger making his way back to her from far down the beach. She saw him from the corner of her eye and giggled, feeling her giddiness grow with each step that brought him closer. He had called her a witch, but he held all the power. She would do anything for the man.

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Anything. And she would spend the rest of her life needing him, wanting him, but most of all, loving him. She waved as he drew nearer, but the phone intruded on her musing. She padded barefoot back inside to grab it on the third ring. “Hello?” “Harleigh? It’s Jason.” “Jason!” “A little late. I hope you can forgive me.” Harleigh set her cup on the table and sat down on the settee with one leg curled beneath her. “Of course. I’m so glad to hear from you. Are you back in L.A.?” “We flew in late last night.” “So everything has been settled in San Francisco?” “Yes, thank God. The store is still standing and we didn’t lose a single employee. But I didn’t call to regale you with my woes. Mitch is there with you, I presume?” “He’s out jogging at the moment. But yes, he’s here.” “Good. Although after my last conversation with him, I couldn’t imagine he’d be anywhere else.” Relieved Jason couldn’t see the telltale color in her cheeks, Harleigh hedged. “Jason, there’s so much I need to say to you. I know Mitch told you the whole story, and yet I...” Jason’s tone took on a note of excitement as he blithely interrupted her. “There’s no need to say anything except I hope you’re both ready to party.” “Party?” “Yes. My house. Tonight.” “Tonight?” Harleigh’s voice squeaked on a note of panic. “How about a little notice?” Jason barked with laughter. “I know, I know. But we’ve wasted enough time. And had it not been for San Francisco, this would be a done deal. But no matter because after tonight, everyone will know about Lightner’s newest designer. I’m expecting big things from you.” “I won’t disappoint you.” “There was never any doubt in my mind.” Harleigh’s head reeled from the unexpected developments. “Jason, I don’t know how to thank you. What you’re doing for me...” “Don’t sell yourself short, Harleigh. It’s more a case of what you’re going to do for yourself. Don’t forget that. Seven o’clock. Don’t be late.”

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She barely had time to carry her cup to the kitchen before the phone rang again. Picking up a different extension, she pressed the phone to her ear and heard Beth’s voice carrying through the receiver. “Hey, girl. I was beginning to think you forgot about me. Not to mention a little thing called business. Ever heard of a place called Intimately Yours? We sell lingerie to die for, but if someone doesn’t get back here soon, there won’t be any garters and teddies to sell.” Harleigh grimaced at her partner’s sarcasm. “Hi, Beth.” “At least you remember my name.” “Would you believe me if I said I intended to call you later today?” “Pretty convenient if you ask me. But I’ll buy it.” With Beth’s softening, Harleigh relaxed against the kitchen counter. “It’s the truth. I fully intended to call you right after I called Mom and Dad. I don’t need to ask how the shop’s doing. You run the place better than I do. But what’s going on around town? Or do I even want to know?” “Where do I begin?” “That bad?” “Nothing you can’t handle. Customers are asking for you though, wondering where you are.” Harleigh absently studied her manicure. “What have you been telling them?” “That you’re shacked up on the beach with your rich lover until the baby arrives.” “Beth!” Beth curbed her mischievous nature. “Just kidding. I told them the truth. That you’re away on business and on the verge of becoming the most well-known designer in America.” Harleigh scoffed. “You were closer to the truth with the first scenario, minus the baby.” “Listen, I won’t keep you long. I just thought you might like to know the bank called.” “The bank?” “They approved your loan.” It took a moment before Beth’s words sunk in. When they did, Harleigh experienced a sense of satisfaction, but not the euphoria she expected when she first approached the bank about a line of credit for her Spring line. She had applied for the loan well over six weeks ago and until now had completely forgotten about it. “That’s great.” “That’s all? Where’s your enthusiasm? I thought you’d be turning cartwheels.” “I have other things on my mind at the moment.” “I can’t imagine.”

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“Let’s just say the last thing I need right now is a line of credit. Not when I have Mitch.” Beth’s sigh came across loud and clear. “Oh brother, have you got it bad. Okay. I get it. We’ll talk about it when you get back. Is it safe to tell the bank you’ll be in to finalize the paperwork within the next week?” “Safe enough.” “Hurry up and come home. I want to hear all the scoop.” “I will. I can’t stay shacked up with my rich lover forever.” They laughed together over Beth’s scenario before Harleigh said goodbye with a promise to let Beth know when she and Mitch would return to Charleston. She replaced the phone on its cradle and turned around with hopes of jumping in the shower where Mitch would find her wet, naked, and ready. She didn’t get far when she saw him standing in the doorway. “Hi.” She grinned and ran a quick eye up and down his sexy, sweaty stance. In track shorts and tank top, his muscled arms and legs glistened with moisture, and he exuded strength and masculinity as easily as he breathed. “I didn’t hear you come in.” She started toward him, but his expression stopped her in her tracks. A feeling of deja vu washed over her. He wore the exact same expression as on the night he showed up unexpectedly at her shop. She dismissed the notion as a figment of her imagination. “Did you enjoy your run?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he remained standing there, his mouth set in a hard line. “Mitch, what is it?” His hands braced his hips and she swore his gaze narrowed. He sauntered past her and pulled open the refrigerator door. She watched silently while he extracted a bottled water and poppedand popped the cap to squeeze the liquid down his throat. He seemed lost in his thoughts as he swiped the back of his wrist across his forehead, and simply stood with his back to her. “Mitch?” When he still didn’t respond, Harleigh opted for small talk, hoping to ease him out of his strange mood. “Umm...Jason called a few minutes ago. He’s back. Remember that party he wanted to throw in my honor? It’s tonight.” That got his attention. He turned around with a look of surprise, but remained mute. An alarm bell pealed inside her head. “I kind of had the same reaction, believe me. But you told me yourself he’s been known to move mountains. He said seven o’clock and don’t be late. I didn’t ask where he lives and he didn’t offer. I guess we both assumed you already know.” She babbled,

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especially since he seemed in no hurry to join the conversation. “Would you like some breakfast? I could whip us up an omelet. Or how about a Belgian Waffle?” She started opening the cabinets nearest the sink. “I know I saw a Belgian Waffle maker around here somewhere.” “I don’t want any breakfast.” She whirled around and threw her hands in the air. “He speaks. I was beginning to think the salt air had clogged your vocal chords.” Her attempt at humor fell flat. She saw no crack in his granite expression. She nearly stamped her foot in vexation. “Mitch, would you please tell me what’s going on?” He set his bottle on the counter and snapped, “I’m going to take a shower.” He started past her, but she reached out and touched his arm. “Do you want some company?” Her spontaneous invitation didn’t receive an encouraging reaction. She shifted uncomfortably beneath his gaze, and wished she wore something more enticing than biker shorts and her favorite jersey. “Guess not.” She let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t get it. When you left earlier, you practically kissed my face off. Now you look as though you want my head on a platter.” He closed his eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of his nose. His head shot back up. “Tell me, Harleigh. Is it the sex you like or is it the money after all?” She knitted her brows together. “Is this a trick question?” “Or maybe it’s both. Tell me. What are we looking at here?” “I’d give you an answer if I knew what the hell we were talking about.” “So how’s Beth these days?” This time she shrugged her shoulders, still clueless. “Beth is great. I’ll tell her you asked about her the next time...” Her voice trailed off as everything became crystal clear. Mitch cleared his throat. “The next time what? You talk to her on the phone?” He gave her a hard look, walked out of the kitchen, and left her alone. The phone call. She had been talking to Beth when Mitch walked in. Her brain performed a quick replay of their conversation. Beth had chastised her for not calling; had told her customers were asking for her. And that the bank had approved her loan. Her loan. Only Mitch hadn’t heard that part. He only heard her side of the conversation and had obviously misconstrued every word. Relief washed through her to know she could easily rectify the misunderstanding. She quickly

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retraced his steps and found him in the bedroom rummaging through a dresser drawer. “Baby, I can explain.” He pulled out a tee shirt, slammed the drawer, and tossed the shirt on the bed. This time, calm indifference dominated his tone. “Explain what? That you don’t need a line of credit because you have me?” She grimaced. “You heard that, did you? I know what it sounds like, but...” “Or that you can’t stay shacked up with your rich lover forever?” And she groaned. This couldn’t be happening. The dead horse had somehow reared its ugly head again. Mitch and his millions. She put her face in her hands for a moment before eyeing him with tempered impatience. “It was a joke. Beth’s words, to be exact. I was just repeating them.” “A joke?” She sat down on the corner of the bed and wrapped her hands around the post. “Yes. You have to know Beth. She says crazy things all the time. She said customers have been asking about me and she wanted me to think she was telling them I was shacked up with my rich lover.” She shrugged helplessly. “You gotta admit, it wasn’t exactly a lie. And besides, I saw you coming back from your jog. I knew you’d be back any second. Do you really think I’d say something that might sound suspicious when I knew you’d be walking in any minute?” Mitch floored her with his next words. “I don’t know what to think of you at the moment. Your mouth seems to get you into trouble at every turn. Why would this time be any different?” Harleigh pursed her lips together and mentally counted to ten. She couldn’t believe a man of such wealth, confidence, and success sounded like a jilted boy at his tenth grade sock hop. “Sweetheart, if we’re not careful here, we could find ourselves in the midst of our first fight.” Despite the chill emanating from his direction, she felt a smile threaten and tried in vain to check it. She failed miserably. Mitch didn’t share her light assessment of the situation. “You think this is funny?” “Well...” she hedged. “It’s not unfunny.” “I’m not laughing.” She held on to her temper, though she felt it simmer at the surface. “You would if you thought things through. Or thought about everything we’ve meant to each other these past few weeks. And after last night...” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t need to remind him of last night’s events. “What about last night?” Then again, maybe she did. She scratched her head. “You’re kidding, right? You’re going to

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stand there and pretend we didn’t fuck each other’s brains out last night?” She thought she had him there, but again, he surprised her. His expression didn’t alter. “Why haven’t you answered my question?” “Which one? You asked several.” She stared at him, dumbfounded to realize the extent of his anger. Or that he apparently believed she considered him an orgasm-producing ATM machine. She struggled for words for a moment and tried a different tactic. “Mitch, let’s talk about last night. And I don’t mean the fun and games. What happened to ‘Harleigh, you’re a witch. You’re a drug. I can’t get enough of you’.” “Men say stupid things in the heat of passion.” Her jaw dropped and without thinking she jumped up and grabbed the nearest object to throw at him. “Oh that’s low, Brannigan. That is so low.” Mitch easily caught the pillow before it smacked him in the face. “Feel better now?” She blew out a rush of air. “Do I feel better? Why don’t you come over here and let me drop kick your groin. That will make me feel better.” Mitch clapped his hands together three times. “Now that’s the Harleigh I’ve come to know. When faced with the truth, counter with a wisecrack. So mature.” She threw her hands up. “Yeah, well, you’re an idiot. You take a one-sided conversation, put your own spin on it, and fling an insult that’s not only ridiculous, but completely untrue. You meant every word you said to me last night and don’t you dare deny it.” He watched her closely for a second and said quietly, “Why can’t you answer the question? And you know which one I’m talking about. Be honest for once with me.” Hurt, Harleigh took a deep breath. “I was honest with you last night when I said I love you.” She straightened her spine and lifted her chin. “You know, it’s a good thing I’m not a witch because I’d turn you into the horse’s ass you are.” She glanced at the bedside clock and back at Mitch. “I presume this means you’re not going to the party.” “You presume wrong. I don’t intend to let Jason down.” “How noble of you.” When he didn’t rise to the bait, Harleigh hid her disappointment. She wanted to keep fighting. She wanted to get everything out in the open so he’d realize how ridiculous he was being to think she coveted his money. A little voice inside her head reminded her she held the power to set him straight. How could he stand there and look at her with such disillusionment and distrust? Hurt, even? He had to know deep down just how off base he was. Never in her life had she ever given herself so completely to

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a man. Heart, body, and soul. There was her answer. She had given everything to him, and yet he dismissed all of it because he misconstrued a simple phone call. Her pride wouldn’t let her say the words that would make things right between them again. If he didn’t know by now the extent of her love for him, to hell with trying to convince him. “Do you have something to wear?” He asked the question as though he didn’t care one way or the other. “I seem to recall you made this trip in haste.” “Why? Are you afraid I’ll ask for your Gold Card?” “I didn’t mean to imply...” She waved a hand at him. “Forget it. I know what you meant.” She started for the door and paused with a deliberate message. “Since the party is several hours away, I’m going to try sketching a few designs to take with me. It won’t hurt to give the guests a little preview since Jason is going out of his way to do this for me.” She felt her throat clog with emotion and immediately quashed it. Damn if she’d let him see her cry. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t disturb me.” She gave a false laugh. “You know, genius at work and all that. I’ll be ready by six.” She closed the bedroom door behind her and completely missed the step Mitch took in her direction.

***

Mitch spent a rotten afternoon. Despite his impulse to the contrary, he adhered to Harleigh’s wishes and left her alone with her sketchpad. And her thoughts. Thoughts that most likely envisioned him being hung by his thumbs over a pot of boiling acid. Or being staked naked to the ground covered in warm honey while hungry buzzards hovered above, waiting to swoop down and devour his body parts. He hated to admit it, but he deserved both scenarios. The moment he saw her chin lift and her back straighten, he knew he’d misjudged her terribly. Just as she claimed, he heard one side of a conversation and chose to believe the worst. Of her. One phone call to Beth cinched it for him. She explained in detail about the line of credit, how Harleigh had applied for it before she even met him, and how she intended to finalize the paperwork upon her return to Charleston. But for now, she wanted to concentrate only on him, a fact that Beth drove home with a great deal of guilt and recriminations. Okay, so he was an idiot. An absolute horse’s ass of an idiot. But men in love acted like idiots

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all the time, didn’t they? Especially when the prize was someone as beautiful and unforgettable as the woman yet to emerge from the bedroom. He glanced at his watch. Almost six p.m. She said she’d be ready. No need to doubt her. She had proven herself a woman of her word, no thanks to him. So now to make things right. If she’d let him. Checking his reflection in the hall mirror, he straightened his tie and heard the bedroom door click open. He didn’t have time to turn around before he saw Harleigh in the background. His heart skipped several beats and he forgot for a moment how to simply breathe. To say she was stunning seemed inadequate. High voltage femininity worked. He turned around to get a better look at his princess in gold satin. The mini dress clung to her body in all the right places while her four-inch ankle straps showcased her dancer’s legs. She could easily have come straight from the catwalk. She had left her hair down and curling loose, and when she glanced his way, he was struck anew by her flawless beauty. Too bad she wasn’t smiling. “Six p.m. Right on time.” Her flippant remark didn’t disguise the fire in her gaze. It didn’t take a genius to see she was still angry. At him. “You’re beautiful.” He said the words without thinking. She didn’t bat one spiky eyelash. “Have you seen my portfolio? I left it lying on the table.” “I put it in the car while you were in the shower.” “How sweet.” She draped the shawl she carried over her shoulders and gave his black tux a cursory glance. “We may as well go. I don’t want to keep Jason waiting.” Mitch sighed as she sailed past him with a proud set of her head. He grabbed his keys and fell in step behind her, unable to check a devilish grin. It promised to be a long night of groveling and he definitely had his work cut out for him. But damn if he didn’t intend to enjoy every moment of it.

***

Mitch’s first attempt at groveling failed miserably. Less than ten minutes into their drive to Jason’s, the silence in the car had started to rattle him. With another twenty minutes at best before reaching the party, he reached over to take her hand only to have his own summarily slapped away. “Don’t touch me.” Classic line for a woman’s wounded sensibilities. He tried again. And flew straight into a hornet’s nest.

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“I called Beth this afternoon.” “You what?” Incoming missile. He immediately tried to deflect it. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, Harleigh. I was wrong and I hope you can forgive me.” Self-preservation kept his eyes on the road. He didn’t need to look at her to know his apology meant less than a spoonful of dirt. “Go ahead and say it. I deserve it.” With her shoulders erect and her arms folded across her middle, Harleigh remained silent. For about a tenth of a second. “I’m not going to say anything, Mitch. My word obviously means nothing to you as evidenced by your need to call Beth to check out my story. I’ve taken into consideration everything you said this morning and while I admit I have on occasion resorted to using your name for my own purposes, I believe I explained to the best of my ability my reasons for doing so. I’m big enough to admit I started the ball rolling by telling Jason’s brother that you and I were engaged, but there was no way I could predict how the situation would snowball into such a ridiculous situation. It’s not my fault the entire city of Charleston thinks we’re engaged or that we’re secretly married or planning a wedding. And it most certainly was not my fault that rumors of my pregnancy hit the newsstands. You and you alone are responsible for that little tidbit. She paused and took a deep breath before continuing, “I’ve admitted I was a little hasty in flying out here to confess all to Jason. I could have saved myself a lot of time and money if I had simply waited for you to tell Jason the truth. All of that is now water under the bridge, or soon will be once I get back home and set the public straight on our relationship. A relationship I thought had become one based on mutual trust, admiration, and respect for one another. Obviously I was mistaken. You still believe I’m after your money with sexual bennies on the side. If you don’t know by now who I am and what I want, that’s your misfortune. Like I said earlier, you’re an idiot.” Mitch waited a moment to make sure she had finished and bit down hard to check his amusement. “I thought you weren’t going to say anything.” “Just shut up and drive. I don’t want to talk to you right now.” “On the contrary, it seems.” But he did as he was told and didn’t say another word. Content just being near her, he knew one way to get back into her good graces. Flipping on the radio, he sat back to enjoy the rest of the drive in spite of his sexy spitfire’s silent treatment.

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Chapter Twelve

“Harleigh, you look gorgeous.” With a genuine smile of affection, Harleigh accepted Jason’s kiss on her cheek and responded with a warm hug. “Hello, Jason. It’s so nice to see you again.” “And this is my wife, Abby. I’ve been anxious for the two of you to meet.” Harleigh took an immediate liking to the tall, pretty brunette whom she guessed to be two or three years older. Model slim, with no hint of having gone through recent childbirth, she was dressed in a stunning red halter dress that complemented her porcelain skin and stylish bob. They shook hands while Jason reached around Harleigh to welcome his old friend. “Mitch. Great to see you, too. And thanks for getting my guest of honor here safe and sound. Come on in. Some of the guests have already arrived.” Entering the foyer upon the marbled tile gave Harleigh reason to believe she wouldn’t regret her association with Lightner’s department stores. Jason and Abby obviously enjoyed a high level of success as evidenced by her surroundings. The beauty and impeccable decor of their home easily rivaled the pages from a magazine and she told them as much. “Thank you, but the credit is all Abby’s. Wait until you see what she’s done to the nursery. Abby laughed. “Speaking of which, I hope you’ll excuse me for a little while. It’s Riley’s bedtime. Nursing and all that.” She extended another warm smile on Harleigh and Mitch. “I’ll be back in a little while. For now I know Jason is anxious to introduce his new designer around.” In all of her thirty years, Harleigh had never shied away from center stage. She had always had her fair share of attention. With three older brothers to spoil and protect her, the standard had been set early on and continued throughout each chapter of her life. Dance class. Honors student. Cheerleader. Homecoming Queen. College. Her own business at age twenty-seven. Plenty of opportunities in which to shine and she had made the most of every one of them. But tonight proved the exception. Despite Jason’s perfect hosting and shining the spotlight on her with his guests, she simply wanted the night to end in order to make things right with Mitch. Though he remained by her side throughout the evening, they exchanged cursory glances and cordial conversation all for the sake of appearances. Tonight should have been one of celebration. Not only for her new status with Lightner’s, but

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more importantly for having found true love for the first time in her life. And yet she hadn’t even told Mitch how handsome he looked in his black tuxedo. He absolutely took her breath away, but pride prevented her from telling him so. She loved him beyond reason and wanted nothing more than to show him. Right after she strangled him for still wondering if she loved his money more. His needing to call Beth proved that theory. He couldn’t take her word for it. He had to call her best friend and partner to verify her credentials. He couldn’t have hurt her more if he had tried. “Care to dance?” Lost in her musings, it barely registered on her consciousness when Mitch took her champagne glass and handed it to a passing waiter. Instinctively her arms encircled his neck while his found the curve of her waist. Just where she said she wanted to be. He smelled heavenly and he moved her around the floor as though they were skating on ice. Stubbornly, she refused to look up even though she felt his gaze boring holes through her forehead. Instead, she nodded in other people’s directions with a smile that even she imagined bordered on insipid. “Baby, look at me.” Damn his voice. It slid over her body like melted honey. “Please.” She did and immediately felt her heart soften. How could it not when his blue eyes gazed down at her with such longing, such sweetness. Despite her lingering anger and hurt, she couldn’t deny there was no other place she wanted to be than in Mitch’s arms. She felt a crack in her mask and opened her mouth to tell him she forgave him. “Don’t you think you’ve pouted long enough?” God, were all men born dense? Undecided whether to stomp on his instep or simply tell him to go to hell, she lost the chance when a familiar face interrupted them. “Excuse me, Mitch, but I hope you don’t mind if I cut in?” Mitch and Harleigh eyed the man in the designer gray suit with similar reactions, neither one positive. Mitch spoke first in a voice that brooked no sign of welcome. “Sam Lightner. What an unpleasant surprise.” Jason’s younger brother gave a sheepish grin. “I see my reputation precedes me. Nice to see you again, too, Mitch.” He glanced at Harleigh. “May I have this dance, Ms. Boston? I would like the

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opportunity to apologize for my boorish behavior with you on more than one occasion.” Mitch grunted his disbelief, but the lady in gold satin ignored him. She surprised all three of them by accepting Sam’s invitation and moving from one man’s arms to another’s. She didn’t miss the scowl on Mitch’s face, and neither did she care. He accused her of pouting. Oh, was he going to pay for that one later! “If I may be so bold, trouble in paradise?” Sam’s voice shifted her focus away from Mitch. She blinked up at him. “Excuse me?” Sam glanced at Mitch who had taken up residence at the bar. “I can certainly understand Mitch not wanting you to dance with me, but you didn’t seem particularly happy in his arms either. Dare I hope he’s as big a jerk as I was?” “Bigger.” Sam threw his head back and laughed at her quick retort. Several heads turned in their direction. Mitch’s had never strayed. Harleigh took a moment to study Jason’s brother. Though he had treated her abominably at the Vegas show, she had to admit he didn’t seem at all threatening in Jason’s living room. Though not quite as handsome as Jason, he did have arresting brown eyes and an affable grin. And given his respectable hold on her when compared to his lecherous advances upon their first meeting, she decided to give him a second chance to redeem himself. “I accept your apology.” He lifted a brow. “Just like that?” “Unless this is all an act for your brother’s sake.” He perfected a pained look. “I deserved that. But no, it’s not an act. My only excuse is I lose my head whenever I see a beautiful woman. Frankly, I don’t do rejection well at all. So for that, I’m truly sorry.” He said the last on such a plaintive note, Harleigh laughed. And saw Sam Lightner for who he really was. A nice, average looking Joe trying to escape from the shadow of his older, more handsome and successful brother. She took pity on him and flashed him her warmest smile. “I doubt I left you with any scars. You look healthy enough, and somewhat less predatory.” He grinned. “Jason said you were a class act. It’s unfortunate the man whose opinion matters most doesn’t realize it.” Harleigh’s defense of Mitch came instinctively. “He knows it. He’s just being a little contrary at the moment.” She glanced back at the bar. Mitch had disappeared. She swallowed her disappointment,

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but proved unsuccessful in hiding it. “He’s not really your fiancé, is he?” Sam’s question caught her off guard. She assumed that Jason had laid that rumor to rest.. She gave the matter some thought and shot Sam an impish grin. “No. But only because I haven’t asked him yet.” That earned her a nod of respect as Sam twirled her around with a bark of laughter. “Lucky man, that Brannigan. But until he comes to his senses, I intend to enjoy the rest of our dance.” “I’m afraid not.” Harleigh’s smile faded when she saw Jason’s face loom over Sam’s shoulder. He no longer wore an expression of the perfect host. “May I see you for a moment? It’s important.” With a grumble of irritation for the intrusion, Sam nonetheless lifted Harleigh’s hand to his mouth and kissed it lightly. “Thanks for the dance, beautiful lady. And for not holding my past behavior against me.” Harleigh barely had time to respond before Jason whisked her away behind closed doors. When he took her hands in his, the concern in his eyes caused her heart to miss a beat. “What is it, Jason. Just tell me.” He didn’t waste any time. “I just got a call from your friend, Beth.” “Beth?” Harleigh frowned, confused. “I don’t understand. How...?” “When she couldn’t reach you at the beach house, she somehow tracked you down here. It’s your father, Harleigh. He’s been taken to the hospital. They think he’s suffered a heart attack.” Harleigh swayed and would have fallen if not for Jason’s quick response. “Daddy? Is he...he’s not...” She couldn’t say the words, but Jason swiftly took command of the situation. “I’ve already called the airport. The jet is on stand-by and I have a driver waiting outside to take you and Mitch.” “Mitch. I have to find Mitch.” “Of course. I think Abby’s giving him the grand tour upstairs, but let me...” Harleigh was already out the door and running up the stairs. Though Abby was nowhere in sight, Harleigh found Mitch easily enough standing outside on a side deck. “Mitch, there you are. I need you...” Mitch turned around, but didn’t seem at all happy to see her. “You need me? What? To kick Sam’s ass for you?” “What?” Harleigh shook her head. “No. I came to tell you...”

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Mitch cut her off as though he didn’t hear her. “Of course not. You and Sam looked too cozy for any ass-kicking. Funny how you can forgive him for treating you the way he did, but I’m still getting the silent treatment.” “Mitch, can we please talk about this later? I have to go. I’m leaving now and...” He straightened from the railing and shot her a look of disbelief. “What do you mean you’re leaving? After all the trouble Jason has gone to for you? You’re taking off, just like that?” Frustrated, Harleigh tried again. “No, not just like that. I’m trying to tell you that something’s come up. I...” “Jesus, Harleigh. When is this impulsiveness of yours going to stop? Can’t you for once in your life think about someone besides yourself? What could be more important at the moment than this party in your honor?” He dragged a hand through his hair and shot her a look of disgust. “Did you at least have the decency to tell Jason you’re leaving? Or were you expecting me to do it for you? After all, he’s my friend.” Stunned, completely taken off guard by Mitch’s attack, Harleigh stared at him for agonizing moments. She cleared her throat and fought hard to restore some semblance of control. When she did, she spoke to this man she professed to love as though he had suddenly become a total stranger. “Jason knows I’m leaving,” she said quietly. “He understands perfectly why I have to go.” “That’s Jason for you. The perfect gentleman.” Mitch’s expression hardened as his hands braced his hips. “So go ahead and leave. But don’t expect me to chase after you this time. Even I have my limits when it comes to your drama class antics.” “I’ll remember you said that.” Spinning on her four inch heels, Harleigh quietly left the room. Mitch never saw the single tear running down her cheek.

***

He couldn’t believe it. After all of Jason’s trouble and expense to arrange this party for her and Harleigh decided she had some place else to be. Unbelievable. Not to mention embarrassing. She said Jason knew she was leaving. He could only guess what excuses she had made. He glanced at his watch. He had accused her earlier of pouting. Did men pout? He didn’t like to think so. So why the hell was he hiding out upstairs when he should be downstairs explaining to a room full of people why the guest of honor had taken flight? Fuck.

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She definitely knew how to push his buttons. And then some. But he had to be honest with himself. He loved her. And despite their brief time together, he couldn’t imagine a day or night when he would grow bored with her. Impulsive? Yes. Maddening and irritating as hell? Absolutely. Closing the French doors to the deck, he turned around and grinned. He hoped they had a dozen kids just like her. “Why are you still here?” Mitch stopped in his tracks, surprised to see Jason standing in the doorway with an unfamiliar scowl on his face. Misunderstanding, Mitch muttered another curse under his breath. “I’m sorry, Jason. I don’t know what to say. You have every right to be angry. The least I can do is try and make excuses to your guests. I love that impossible woman, but she’s impulsive and has acting before she thinks down to a science. Of course, your guests don’t need to know that. I’ll think of something to tell them...” Jason frowned. “What the hell are you talking about? And why aren’t you with Harleigh? This is no time for her to be alone.” “What are you talking about? She left almost an hour ago. I thought you’d be furious.” “Didn’t you talk to her? She went looking for you. I just assumed...” A sense of foreboding filled Mitch’s gut to finally register the concern on Jason’s face. “You assumed what?” Jason sighed and rubbed a hand across his eyes. “Mitch, it’s Harleigh’s dad. He may have had a heart attack. The family has been trying to locate Harleigh. They called Beth who tracked her down here a little while ago. I chartered the company jet to fly the two of you back to Hilton Head and... Mitch? Wait...what are you going to do?” Mitch was already half way out the door when he barked over his shoulder, “I’m going to charter another damn jet.”

***

Mitch’s long stride carried him through the hospital corridor to the nurses’ station where he found two of Harleigh’s brothers in deep conversation. Randy saw him first and turned. Concern clearly marred his face. “Mitch. This is a surprise. What are you doing here?”

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Mitch shook hands with first Randy, then Tommy. His look of compassion encompassed both men. “I heard about R.B. I got here as soon as I could. How’s he doing?” Randy let out a heartfelt sigh. “It’s been a helluva night, but he’s going to be fine, thank God. It was a mild heart attack which came as a shock considering Dad’s always taken good care of himself.” Mitch didn’t hide his relief. Though he had only known the Boston family a few months, R.B. had definitely earned second place in his heart, first place unequivocally spoken for by a beautiful blond with whom he had yet to make peace. “I’m glad to hear he’s ok. I tried calling the hospital from my cell, but never could get through for one reason or another.” “Sorry about that,” Tommy offered.

“We called your office.

They told us you were in

California, but they would get word to you right away. Was your trip business or pleasure?” He gave a slight grin as though trying to ease the tension still permeating the air. “You could say a little of both.” The words stuck in Mitch’s throat, though he managed a half smile of his own. “I don’t see Trish. Is she in with R.B. now?” It took tremendous effort not to ask about Harleigh, but he couldn’t be sure how much, if anything, she had told her family about him. Randy shook his head. “She and Holden went down to the cafeteria. Mom’s been a real trouper, but we more or less made her go get something to eat. Besides, Harleigh’s with Dad. Has been almost from the moment she arrived this morning.” The mention of her name hit Mitch like a sledgehammer. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to keep his tone neutral. “How is she doing? I imagine she’s pretty shaken up.” Tommy chuckled. “You obviously don’t know our little sister very well. Otherwise, you’d know she’s tough as nails. She wasn’t here five minutes before she was trying to lift everyone’s spirits and reminding us what a stubborn old bird Dad is.” He laughed suddenly. “The brat even suggested it was Dad’s way of getting her to come home since none of us have heard from her in over three weeks. We called Beth to find out Harleigh’s whereabouts, but Beth promised to let her know about Dad right away.” You obviously don’t know our little sister very well. Mitch wondered what the two brothers would say if they knew just how well he did know Harleigh. “You said she got in this morning?” He asked the unnecessary question, self-disgust filling his gut to recall the horrible accusations he had flung at her. And yet, she had stood there in all her proud beauty, dry-eyed, chin lifted high, only to calmly turn and leave the room, never once letting him see the fear and panic she must have felt to know her father had been rushed to the hospital and might be fighting for his life.

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“She came straight from the airport,” Randy confirmed. “Didn’t say where she had been, and I guess none of us were in the mood to give her a hard time. She looked pretty beat. Said she’d been flying all night.” “As soon as Dad’s completely out of the woods,” Tommy intervened, “don’t think we won’t give her a hard time about where she’s been.” Mitch immediately rose to Harleigh’s defense. “Harleigh’s thirty years old. She seems more than capable of taking care of herself.” “What makes you think so Mitch?” All three men turned at the sound of the youngest Boston brother as Holden and Trish joined the circle. “What are you doing here? Does Harleigh even know you’re here?” No one mistook the censure in Holden’s voice that put Mitch in the hot seat. Everyone stared at him in quick succession. Surprised at Holden’s reception, Mitch frowned. “I was concerned about your father. I wanted to find out how he was doing.” Holden’s stance remained wooden. “You could have called. This is a family affair.” “Holden, what is wrong with you?” Trish’s stern rebuke couldn’t disguise her embarrassment. “I know your father’s illness has us all upset, but that’s no reason for your behavior.” “I’m sorry, Mom,” Holden offered, though he kept his eyes squarely on Mitch. “I don’t mean to upset you further, but Mitch knows why his presence here isn’t exactly welcomed. And I don’t think Harleigh needs any more trauma than...” The rest of Holden’s sentence faded away when Mitch glanced up and saw the door to R.B.’s room open. Harleigh emerged slowly. He absently wondered when she had had time to change into jeans and a sweatshirt. His heart ached to see her looking pale and exhausted. Tough as nails? Definitely not at the moment. He watched her close the door softly behind her and rub a hand across her eyes. With her head down and her hands bracing her sides, she hadn’t seen him yet as she made her way across the floor. Without explanation to her family, Mitch rounded their circle to go to her, his every intent to offer her the comfort he had callously deprived her of at Jason’s party. He hadn’t gotten far when she looked up and saw him, her beautiful features a blend of surprise and uncertainty. Mitch halted, giving her the choice to either accept or reject his presence. He felt all of Boston boring into his back, though no one said a word or made a move to come between them. It seemed an eternity passed before he saw the subtle change in Harleigh’s expression and he knew. She had forgiven

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him. She started toward him again, slowly at first, and then it seemed they couldn’t reach each other fast enough. Mitch scooped her into his embrace and hugged her fiercely while Harleigh had to stand on tiptoe to wrap her arms around him. Her tears were warm on his neck when she finally gave up her struggle and crumpled against his shoulder. He had never seen her cry. Not once. Worse, he had never made her cry. He simply held her, all the while murmuring his love for her and savoring the feel of her being back in his arms. This is where she belonged, where she would stay. Thank God she apparently didn’t intend to fight him on it. When she finally quieted, he cupped her face in his hands and used the pads of his thumbs to brush the wetness from her cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I tried.” “I know. Guess I wasn’t listening.” “You think?” “We could have come back together. Though I’m beginning to think you derive a lot of pleasure from having me chase you across the country.” He grinned with hopes of easing the lines of pain and exhaustion etched into her features. Even with her hair mussed and tears streaking her face, he thought her more beautiful than ever. Harleigh laid her forehead on his chest and took a moment to gather her wits about her. When she glanced up at him, he had to strain to hear her words. “Mitch, I’m sorry, too. I know you thought I ran out on you. Hell, maybe the news about Dad gave me an excuse to run because I didn’t have to stay and hear all those horrible truths about myself.” Mitch immediately put his fingers to her mouth. “Don’t. I had no right to say the things I did. I’ve been a complete ass.” “I think I said a horse’s ass.” He chuckled. “I won’t belabor the point. Just know when I found out about R.B., I got here as fast as I could.” Tears welled again in her eyes, but she blinked to keep them at bay. “I knew you would come when you heard. But you’re not just here for Daddy, are you?” She sounded like a child and he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her mouth. “I love you, Harleigh. When Jason told me the real reason you left, it killed me knowing you were making that long flight home without me. I wanted to be with you, to comfort you, but you...”

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She gave a weak laugh. “I know. You’ve already said it. I’ve heard it my whole life. I’m too impulsive. I take off like some bat out of hell without thinking of the consequences.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue to blow her nose. Just as quickly, her head popped up and she flashed him the look of a wounded bird. “Although part of me wanted to make you suffer.” “And I did. Believe me.” “How could you still think I’m in this for the money?” “Because it scared the hell out of me thinking I was right.” He pushed her hair behind her ears, his fingers lingering on her skin. “Let’s face it. I’m doomed to chase you wherever you go.” She giggled and sniffled into her tissue. “You were right about the sex. I really love the sex.” Mitch crushed her to him and laughed out loud, though he kept his words to a low murmur. “I don’t know if I can top that striptease and lap dance, but as soon as we’re alone tonight, you’re going to know just how much I love you.” “Excuse us, you two, but do we get an explanation or what?” At the sound of Tommy’s voice, Mitch and Harleigh turned simultaneously to find the Boston family minus R.B. all standing there with expectant looks on their faces. Harleigh leaned in closer to Mitch with her arm wrapped around his waist. Her smile spoke volumes, and though she addressed her entire family, her eyes lit on Holden in particular. “Mitch and I are in love. It’s a long story and we’ll tell you all about it later. But, for now, I’m exhausted and I just want to sleep.” She glanced up at Mitch with love shining in her eyes. “Can we say good night to Daddy first?” In response, Mitch nodded and kissed her again. “Of course. This might even be a good time to thank R.B. for sending me back for those meatballs.” Harleigh wrinkled her brow. “Meatballs?” Before Mitch could answer, Trish stepped forward and took hold of her daughter’s hand. “Don’t be upset, dear. We know how much you value your independence. But your father predicted you and Mitch would be in love before either one of you saw it coming. Knowing your propensity for being late, R.B. sent Mitch back to the house the night of his birthday party hoping to give the two of you time alone to meet and assess one another.” She smiled at both of them. “Your father is a very wise man.” Mitch grinned. “Now I know why he insisted I go alone even though I saw half a dozen pans of meatballs carried into the club.” Harleigh rolled her eyes, though clearly not upset with her father’s unique matchmaking attempt. She turned back to R.B.’s room and flung over her shoulder, “I feel the need for a daughter-father talk,

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but I think a hug will do nicely.” Mitch started after her, but Holden caught up with him until they stood alone together. He held out his hand. “Mitch, I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry, man. It’s just that...” Mitch accepted Holden’s handshake, but cut him off mid-sentence. “Forget it. There’s no need to apologize.” Holden didn’t relent. “Harleigh was visibly upset when she arrived even after I reassured her Dad would be okay. She let it slip she had been in California with you. I just assumed things had ended badly for her.” “They almost ended badly for both of us. But, everything is cool now. I love her, Holden. You don’t have to worry about her.” “I can see that. And I don’t think it’s premature to welcome you to the family.” “Thanks. I appreciate that.” Holden turned to rejoin his family and grinned over his shoulder. Mitch got another glance at the striking resemblance between brother and sister. “May I also say good luck and may the force be with you?” Mitch laughed. “I’m looking forward to every minute of it.”

***

“Coby!” They had barely made it inside Mitch’s front door before Harleigh dropped to her knees to scruff the Great Dane behind her ears. She laughed to have her face licked with over-the-top exuberance. “Where did you come from?” Mitch grinned and closed the door behind them. “I called Liz and asked her to have the traitor here when I got home. She certainly seems to remember you.” “And I didn’t bring a bone like I promised.” Harleigh stood up and patted Coby’s head. “At least she forgives easily.” With those words, Harleigh suddenly found herself pressed backward against Mitch as his arms encircled her waist from behind. He bent his head to nuzzle her ear and whispered softly, “Yes, thank God, she does.” A smile of contentment curved its way into her mouth. She leaned her head back and savored his strength. “I presume we’re no longer talking about the other woman in your life?”

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Mitch turned her around in his arms and tightened his hold. “You, Harleigh Boston, are the only woman in my life.” They kissed long and passionately until Mitch raised his head and placed light kisses on the tip of her nose, her cheekbones, her eyelashes, her forehead. “Now, forever, and always.” Harleigh bunched his shirt into her palms and blinked up at him. “Talk about putting pressure on a woman. That’s a long, long time you just committed yourself to.” “Not long enough. And it starts tonight. Upstairs.” Harleigh’s eyes widened with interest. “Upstairs? Hmm. I’ve never been upstairs. What happens when we get there?” “Remember what I said to you at the hospital?” “You said a lot of things.” “Allow me to refresh your memory. I said I was going to show you just how much I love you once we were alone.” “Oh yes, I remember.” She gave an exaggerated sigh, but couldn’t fake the yawn that followed close behind. “I’m not sure I have a lap dance in me tonight. I’m exhausted.” Mitch didn’t laugh, though he surprised her by scooping her into his arms. “No fun and games tonight, baby. I’m just a man wanting to make love to my woman in my own bed. But if you’re too tired to make love, I’ll be just as happy to hold you in my arms while you sleep.” Harleigh traced her fingers lightly down Mitch’s cheek. She leaned in, kissed him fully on his mouth, and murmured, “Aren’t you the one who said greed is good between the sheets?” “Meaning?” She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed again. “How about if you make love to me and then hold me while I sleep?” Shifting her weight in his arms, Mitch flicked off the foyer light and headed for the stairs with a very satisfied grin. “There’s no place like home.”