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Plain Jane's Prince Charming
Melissa McClone
For waitress Jane Dawson happily-ever-afters only happen in fairy tales…. So when she approaches I sexy millionaire Chase Ryder she's thrilled he'll sponsor her charity. Of course, there's no chance Chase will be interested in a girl like her!Chase has always dated women like him, focused and controlled. But Jane's passion to help others is like a breath of fresh air. Can Chase let down his ; guard? Because Jane's a woman in a million and deserves her very own happy ending….


Dear Reader,
As I began work on Plain Jane’s Prince Charming, I couldn’t stop thinking about a little girl in my son’s preschool class who had been diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL). While her family navigated their way through an overwhelming new world of oncology, treatment protocols and hospitals, the children in the preschool made a hand-print quilt for their classmate and waited for her return. Friends sought ways to help—bringing meals, praying and helping with her sister, who was in kindergarten.
Thankfully, her leukemia went into remission and she returned to preschool, but her chemotherapy treatments continued. Eager to help others, her parents organized a local benefit for The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.
I was so moved by the courage of this family, and the love and support that flowed from their friends and the community, that they all wove their way into the backdrop of this story. Leukemia is a horrible disease, but it’s not without hope. And that’s what I wanted to show in this romance—hope, heart and a happily-ever-after.
Melissa McClone
P.S. If you would like to learn more about ALL, or how you can help, please visit The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society Web site at www.leukemia-lymphoma.org (http://www.leukemia-lymphoma.org)
MELISSA MCCLONE
With a degree in mechanical engineering from Stanford University, the last thing Melissa McClone ever thought she would be doing was writing romance novels. But analyzing engines for a major U.S. airline just couldn’t compete with her “happily-ever-afters.”
When she isn’t writing, caring for her three young children or doing laundry, Melissa loves to curl up on the couch with a cup of tea, her cats and a good book. She enjoys watching home decorating shows to get ideas for her house—a 1939 cottage that is slowly being renovated. Melissa lives in Lake Oswego, Oregon, with her own real-life hero husband, two daughters, a son, two lovable but oh-so-spoiled indoor cats and a no-longer-stray outdoor kitty that decided to call the garage home. Melissa loves to hear from her readers. You can write to her at P.O. Box 63, Lake Oswego, OR 97034, U.S.A.

Plain Jane’s Prince Charming
Melissa McClone

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Melissa McClone on Plain Jane’s Prince Charming:
“I raided my own wardrobe to dress my heroine Jane. Her red field coat, black long-sleeved T-shirt and tan corduroy pants came from my closet. I used to wear purple wire-rimmed eyeglasses, too, until one of my children broke the frames. Let’s hope Jane has better luck with hers!”
For Taylor Jackson

CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE (#ud13c216a-1307-597b-beaa-0dd6476bdd48)
CHAPTER TWO (#u079440fc-7b43-5398-9c0b-f6496f33dd23)
CHAPTER THREE (#ua55bd77b-96ee-5303-ac3c-03cc42fa4014)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE
“MR. RYDER.” Standing in the foyer of Cyberworx’s state-of-the-art meeting facility, Jane Dawson couldn’t believe how steady her voice sounded when inside she felt like a coffee bean being ground into tiny bits. Still she managed to smile at the gray-haired businessman. “I would like to speak with you. For a minute. That is if you have time. Please.”
Jane winced.
So much for being smooth and collected, but this was different from speaking with customers while she managed the Hearth, a trendy coffee house in downtown Portland, Oregon. That job required patience, a smile and making sure the staff at the counter got the orders right, not cultured eloquence and grace.
“You want to speak to me?” In spite of his tailored suit, he looked more like a doting grandfather than the successful CEO of a multinational hi-tech company. “Chase…Ryder?”
He sounded surprised.
Of course, he did. People like Jane, college drop-outs who brewed coffee all day, didn’t usually approach people like him. And normally she wouldn’t. Especially when picking up after a catering job. On her day off.
But this wasn’t a normal situation.
She’d jumped at the chance to set up and pick up the breakfast meeting buffet for thirty guests at the corporate headquarters though catering jobs weren’t her usual responsibility. Her boss, Zoe, had offered her the opportunity to meet Chase Ryder, and Jane wasn’t going to blow it.
Act like you know what you’re doing. Saying. And think before you open your mouth. Zoe’s advice echoed in Jane’s head. She raised her chin. “Yes, I would, Mr. Ryder.”
His grin deepened the lines around his mouth and eyes. “I’m more than happy to speak with you, miss.”
Jane hadn’t felt this light, this hopeful in…well, years.
“Unfortunately,” he continued, “I’m not Chase Ryder.”
Her heart plummeted to her feet, as if two fifty-pound bags of Sumatra Gayo Mountain coffee beans had been dumped on each of her shoulders.
Not Chase Ryder.
How could she have made such a big mistake? Her assistant manager, Ally, had told Jane she couldn’t miss the Cyberworx’s head honcho. Tall, handsome and surrounded by people. She’d assumed the distinguished looking man had to be him. She’d assumed wrong.
The man stared at her. “Are you okay?”
No, she wasn’t okay. Jane needed Chase Ryder. She needed…a miracle. Or the fundraising benefit she wanted to throw was never going to happen.
“Miss?”
Whatever you do, do not cause a scene. Remembering Zoe’s final words made Jane force a smile. She wasn’t about to risk her job or future catering jobs for the Hearth over this.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Thank you for your time.”
“No, thank you.” The man chuckled. “You made my day thinking I was Chase.”
As the man sauntered away with a spring to his step, her shoulders slumped. She was in over her head and not qualified to do this, but she couldn’t get discouraged. She couldn’t give up. She still had to try.
For Emma. For sweet, four-year-old Emma who loved to play with baby dolls and still had months of treatment left, Jane wouldn’t give up. Maybe she could still find Chase Ryder. It was only ten o’clock in the morning. And if not…
She would write more letters and make additional phone calls. Somehow she would find sponsors for the fundraiser. Somehow she would help Emma’s mother, Michelle, tackle the mounting medical bills. Somehow Jane would pull this off.
If only she knew how.
Jane shuffled her way to the buffet table to pack up the equipment. Less than a dozen of the muffins, scones, cinnamon rolls and pastries remained on the trays, and she transferred them to a smaller plate to leave. All of the fruit cups were gone, except…
Oh, no.
One had spilled on the tile floor. Pieces of cantaloupe, grapes and pineapple had been squished, kicked and trampled on. The building’s janitorial staff cleaned after events, but Jane couldn’t leave a mess like this. She grabbed a towel near one of the coffee air pots, kneeled on the floor and wiped the sticky goo.
Nothing like a bit of fruit roadkill to finish off a lousy morning. She reached for a smushed strawberry. At least her day couldn’t get much worse.
“Excuse me,” a male voice said.
Still kneeling, Jane took in the shoes first. The black running shoes needed new laces, but looked comfortable. Just like his faded blue jeans. Her gaze traveled up the length of his calves to his thighs to his, um…
Her cheeks burned.
“You wanted to speak with me?” he asked.
What was she doing? She’d come to provide service. To beg a favor. Not stare at his…Jane jumped up. “I’m Ja…”
As she looked into his intense blue eyes, everything stopped. She couldn’t breathe let alone remember her name.
From the angular planes of his face to the slight cleft in his chin to his oh-so-kissable full lips, each feature fit perfectly together with his warm, bright eyes. His blond hair fell in loose curls and brushed the back of his grayish-blue dress shirt collar and navy sports coat. No man could be so naturally good-looking. There had to be a flaw, something more than a mole or two…
And then she found it—a jagged scar running through his right eyebrow. But rather than distracting from his looks it gave him an edge, a sexy, dangerous edge. She stepped back and bumped into the table. Her heart rate increased.
“Jay?” he asked.
“Jane.” Her voice sounded different, lower. She cleared her dry throat. “Jane Dawson.”
“Chase Ryder.”
Everything in her revolted. This was worse than before. He was too young, too handsome, too…male, like a cowboy who’d wandered into the wrong building. Wide shoulders and tall, six feet at least, as the top of her head came up only to his chin. Talk about being at a disadvantage.
“You wanted to speak with me?” he repeated.
His honey rich voice washed over her sending her temperature up at least another twenty degrees.
Don’t freak out. She could do this. So what if he was the most attractive man she’d ever seen? So what if he was richer than Midas himself? A family’s financial future depended on her. She couldn’t be derailed by a pretty—make that gorgeous—face.
“Yes.” Jane extended her arm only to realize she was holding the towel full of smashed fruit. She tossed the rag on the table and wiped her hand on her apron. “I did.”
He glanced at the watch he wore on his right wrist. “I’ve got three minutes.”
His terse response irked her, but what was she going to do? She had less than three minutes to get his help. “I’m organizing a fundraising event to assist paying for the medical expenses of a four-year-old fighting leukemia. The little girl is being raised by a single mother who works, but doesn’t have health insurance.”
She took a breath. “I sent two letters to your foundation about getting sponsorship for the event and left three voice mails, but never received any response. Since I was going to be here this morning, I thought I’d save another stamp and ask you myself though I realize your foundation isn’t associated with Cyberworx.”
He studied her, his appraising gaze missing nothing. Never had she felt so self-conscious and exposed in her freshly creased black twill pants, crisp white blouse and apron. She tucked a strand back into her ponytail.
“And you’re here for…?” he asked.
“The food.” She motioned to the name embroidered on her apron. “I’m…we catered the meeting. The Hearth. It’s a coffee house located in the Pearl district.”
“I’ve heard of it,” he acknowledged. “The Hearth is one of our caterers, but I don’t recognize you.”
“I usually work at the coffee house, not catering jobs. Except for today.” Jane wet her lips. “My, um, boss said I could talk to you as long as I wasn’t bothering you. Am I bothering you, Mr. Ryder?”
“It’s Chase, and no, you’re not bothering me.”
Thank goodness. Too bad she couldn’t say the same thing about him. Okay, he wasn’t exactly bothering her, just leaving her hot and bothered. He might not have the personality to match his good looks, but she would still need an iced cappuccino to cool her down once she finished here. “I know you’re busy and my time is almost up, but I’d be happy to send or e-mail more information about the fundraising event or buy you lunch so we could discuss it further.”
He raised a brow. “Buy me lunch?”
Lunch? Had she said that? More proof she wasn’t cut out for this sort of thing, but it was too late to back out now. “Lunch at the Hearth. I do get an employee discount, but we make a tasty…” Their deli sandwiches, soups and salads might not cut it for a man who could buy himself whatever he wanted. Think. Think. Think. “A tasty grilled panini sandwich.”
The corners of his mouth lifted. “You have a lot of confidence in your cook.”
A lot more than she had in herself. Zoe was going to kill her. Jane tilted her chin anyway. “It’s my recipe.”
His gaze met hers for a moment and a pleasurable shiver inched down her spine. “How does one-thirty sound?” he asked.
“Today?”
He nodded once, and a curly piece of hair fell across his forehead. She ignored the temptation to push the curl back into place.
“G-great.” And Jane supposed it would be. Once her heart rate returned to normal and she told Zoe that the Hearth was going to be serving grilled panini sandwiches at lunchtime today.
With seven minutes between meetings, Chase paused in front of his longtime assistant’s desk. As Amanda disconnected from her call, he picked up the rake from her miniature Zen garden.
Amanda, an incredibly young looking fifty-three, gave him an indulgent smile. “Don’t you have a call with Zurich?”
He checked the time. “In six and a half minutes.”
“I don’t want to keep you waiting.” Amanda removed her headset and brushed her hand through her short, red hair. “What do you need, boss?”
He carved symmetrical rows in the sand. “Cancel everything on my schedule from one o’clock on.”
She frowned. “Today?”
The same response as Jane Dawson except Amanda sounded disgusted, not surprised. He nodded.
“I should have known.”
“Known what?”
“That things have been going too well for it to continue. I’ve managed to pick up Drew from soccer practice every night this week.” She typed on her computer. No doubt, pulling up Chase’s schedule. “But if there’s another fire to put out—”
“No fire,” he interrupted, not wanting her to worry. Amanda’s job required her to be on call 24/7. He appreciated her dedication and hard work. “This is personal.”
“Personal as in a dentist appointment or personal as in deciding to climb Mount Hood again?” She raised an eyebrow. “Or could it be you have a date?”
Seeing the growing interest in Amanda’s hazel eyes, he scratched his right cheek. She’d worked for him for nine years and knew him better than most. She also had a tendency to mother him—the only negative trait he’d discovered. “I have an appointment.”
“With a woman.”
It wasn’t a question. “Yes, but it’s not what you think.”
Amanda grinned. “How do you know what I’m thinking, boss?”
“The twinkle in your eye gives you away every time.”
“I want to see the same twinkle in your eyes.” Ever since remarrying after being widowed six years ago, Amanda wanted everyone to pair up. Much to the dismay of Cyberworx’s single male employees. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy.”
“You need a woman.”
She sounded like his mom and sisters. He had it coming at him from all sides.
“I have plenty of women in my life.” Chase had everything he wanted. He didn’t need anything more. He drew a heart in the sand and crossed it out. “Just because you found ‘the one’ twice and remarried doesn’t mean the rest of us need to follow suit.” And ruin a good thing.
“Is she pretty?”
He glared at Amanda. Next time he would text message her and avoid another interrogation.
“Humor me, okay.”
Chase shrugged. “I guess she’s pretty.”
“You guess?”
He pictured Jane. “She’s got brown hair and wears purple wire-rimmed glasses. That’s what I remember about her.”
Not to mention her eyes. Or the way she wet her lips. But he wasn’t about to mention those things to Amanda.
This wasn’t a date. They were discussing a fundraiser. He liked assisting others, and Jane sounded like she needed help. Speaking of which… “Call P.J. and find out what happened to letters sent by Jane Dawson. She never received a reply to them or her telephone messages.”
“Will do, boss.”
“And try to find out before one o’clock.”
“Sure.” Amanda chuckled. “Don’t forget to polish your armor before you leave.”
“Very funny.”
“You have a tendency to rescue damsels in distress.”
“Jane’s not in distress,” Chase explained. “She needs help. And I—”
“Like to help people.”
“Exactly.” A local reporter had called Chase “the Robin Hood of the Rose City” who used a pen rather than an arrow to dole out funds to the less fortunate. Amanda had teased him about it ever since. “It’s not my fault I know—”
“Everything.”
“Very funny, Amanda.”
“But true.” She put on her headset. “One more thing before you go. What color of eyes does Jane Dawson have?”
“Um, green,” he recalled. “But not what you usually think of as green, like emerald. More like peridot, my mom’s birthstone.”
“That’s interesting.” A smug smile formed on Amanda’s lips. “Considering all you claimed to remember was the woman’s hair color and glasses.”
Busted. Amanda could see right through him. But in this case she was wrong. He only wanted to help Jane Dawson—the way he’d helped others. Her striking green eyes were simply his reward. Plus it wasn’t every day someone offered to buy him lunch. Employee discount or not.
“Get back to work or I’ll dock your pay.” He tossed the little rake back onto the sand.
“I’m salary not hourly.”
“True, but I’m still the boss.”
At the Hearth, Ally Michaels poured frothed nonfat milk into the steaming drink and placed the cup on the counter for the customer.
“Nonfat vanilla latte tall.” As the customer snatched the cup, Ally motioned to Kendra, the other barista, to take over the prep area and turned to Jane. “Do you know what you’re going to say to him?”
“I thought I’d start with hello.” Jane was in the process of trying to perfect three different panini recipes since she didn’t know what Chase might like. Not the easiest task with a one-thirty deadline looming.
Thank goodness Zoe had planned on adding the hot sandwiches to the menu next month, purchased the grill and received approval from the health department, or Jane’s momentary lapse of brain cells could have turned into a complete disaster. Of course, the day wasn’t over yet.
Jane tasted the pesto spread. Still not right. Maybe more pine nuts.
“Hello? Not good enough.” Ally pursed her glossed lips. “This isn’t some random customer. It’s Chase Ryder.”
She said the name with an odd mixture of awe and wistfulness. Unfortunately Jane understood completely. She felt as if she was thirteen again and crushing on the newest hit boy band. Ridiculous, yes. Especially after seeing Chase Ryder’s less than stellar, time-obsessed personality. But Jane hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. His eyes, his smile, his voice, his lips.
Full lips meant for slow, lingering kisses. All over.
Flutters overtook her stomach. Tingles, too.
She couldn’t remember feeling this way before. Definitely not with her ex-boyfriend, Mark Jeffreys. Of course she had probably just forgotten what attraction felt like. There hadn’t been room in her life for romance lately. Not with her job, classes and helping out with Emma.
And that hadn’t been such a bad thing.
Except Jane liked how thinking about Chase made her feel. His aura of confidence appealed to her. Maybe she could get to know him other better and…
What was she thinking? She couldn’t get lost in some daydream. This wasn’t about her. Or Chase. Or what kissing him would be like. This was about Emma’s fundraiser. Jane squared her shoulders. “He’s just a man, Ally.”
“And Mozart was just a piano player.” Ally snickered. “Come on, Jane. Didn’t you find Chase Ryder attractive?”
“I’m not interested in his looks, only his money.”
“I still can’t believe you thought he was some old guy.”
“Based on your description—”
“But everyone knows what Chase Ryder looks like. He’s one of the most eligible bachelors in town.” Ally wiped down the counter. “Don’t you read the social page in the Sunday paper?”
“I don’t have time for the paper.” She didn’t have time for anything, not even putting on this benefit. Her hands trembled, and she flexed her fingers.
Ally studied her. “This is important to you, right?”
Jane couldn’t express what the meeting meant so she nodded.
“Maybe you should put on some makeup and do something with your hair.”
“Too plain?” She had grown up being called “plain Jane.” Nothing had changed once she became an adult. She never had enough time or money to worry about her hair, makeup or clothing.
“You’re not plain, Jane,” Ally said. “You’ve got the girl-next-door, fresh face look down, but you need to grab Chase Ryder’s attention and make him notice you.”
“We’re having lunch together. He can’t help but notice me.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Ally yanked a pink tube from her pant’s pocket. “At least use this.”
Jane caught Ally’s toss. “Lip gloss? Bubble gum flavor?”
“It plumps your lips, too. You never know if he’ll kiss you goodbye.” Ally arched a brow. “With those lips, how could he not be a good kisser?”
“This is a business meeting, not…”
Forget it. No use arguing with man-magnet Ally. Jane concentrated on making the sandwiches instead. Too much was at stake to be distracted. She didn’t want to think about Chase Ryder. She definitely didn’t want to think about his lips or kissing him. Especially kissing him.
And that’s when it hit her.
Garlic. The pesto spread needed more garlic.
Lots and lots of garlic.
Now she wouldn’t dare be tempted by any kisses. Real or in her imagination.
Chase had never been to the Hearth. Amanda, however, swore by their mochas and pastries, which was how the coffee house had come to provide breakfast at morning meetings. He deposited coins in the meter, stuck the parking receipt on his window and walked inside.
The smell of brewing coffee, and freshly ground beans hit him first. No different from the other coffee houses in Portland, but the scent of garlic and basil lingering in the air surprised him.
And he wasn’t often surprised. He’d succeeded in business by preparing for the unexpected. He didn’t believe in having too much information.
On his way to the counter, Chased passed customers sitting at small wood tables. A man typed on his laptop. A woman read a book. A couple paged through the newspaper. A young man with a ponytail and wearing a familiar looking apron cleared cups and plates from one of the few empty tables. No one occupied the big, comfy looking leather chairs near the stone fireplace. The hearth, no doubt.
As a customer grabbed his drink from the counter, Chase read the menu on the chalkboard hanging on the wall behind the counter. He didn’t see Jane, only an attractive young woman with long blond hair, a diamond stud in her nose and dangling beaded earrings.
“Excuse me,” he said.
She—Ally according to the nametag on her apron—poured cocoa powder into a jar and didn’t glance his way. “What can I get for you?”
“Jane Dawson.”
Her head jerked up and cocoa spilled on the counter. “I’ll be right back.”
She disappeared through a pair of swinging doors. A moment later, Jane rushed out.
“Hello, Mr. Ryder, I mean, Chase.” She sounded breathless. Pink tinged her cheeks. “T-thanks for coming.”
She looked younger, vulnerable and he wanted to erase her apprehension. But knowing what he knew, that wasn’t going to be easy. “You’re welcome.”
“The menu is up there.” She motioned to the chalkboard he’d already read. “I’ll take your order and we can sit down.”
“I’d like the prosciutto and provolone panini and an iced cappuccino.”
Jane’s brows drew together. “Iced cappuccino?”
He nodded. “My favorite drink when it’s warm outside.”
“Mine, too.” She pointed to an empty table. “Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll be right there.”
He sat and checked e-mails on his PDA. This afternoon off would cost him workwise and put him behind.
Two minutes later, Jane returned with their drinks and eased into the chair across from him. She’d taken off the apron. “The sandwiches will be ready soon.”
“Nice place in a popular neighborhood.” He took in the surroundings. “You must do a good business.”
“We do okay. Sixty percent of our business comes from the same forty percent of customers,” she said. “We stay busy all day long, but the mornings are the most hectic.”
“Is that when you work?”
She nodded and toyed with her napkin.
“Contrary to what my competitors might say, I don’t bite.”
“Do you nibble?” The pink on her cheeks deepened and she stared into her drink.
“Only sometimes.” Chase wouldn’t mind one now. She was sexier than he’d realized with nice curves that had been hidden by her apron. Yes, he’d been right to come. Chase leaned back in the chair to get a better look. “So don’t worry.”
“Do I look worried?”
“A little.”
Jane’s smile lit up her face. “More like a lot, but thanks for trying to make me feel better.”
He appreciated her honesty. “I’m really not that intimidating.”
“Lunch is served.” Ally placed the plates, each with a sandwich, potato chips and a dill pickle, on the table. “These sandwiches are a recent addition to our menu and are popular with our customers. Enjoy.”
“Thanks,” he said as the woman stepped away.
Jane handed him a napkin. “I hope you like garlic.”
“I love garlic.” He took a bite. “Delicious.”
She seemed to relax and bit into her own sandwich.
“So tell me about your fundraising event,” he said. “How you got involved. What you hope to achieve.”
She patted her mouth with a napkin. “My father was diagnosed with leukemia five years ago.”
“I’m so sorry,” Chase said. “How is—?”
“He died last year.”
Chase struggled for the right words. He couldn’t imagine losing his dad or any member of his family. “That had, still has to be difficult for you.”
Jane nodded. “During his illness, I met other families in situations similar to ours. Spiraling medical costs, little or no health insurance, the financial worries becoming as big a concern as the medical ones. I became particularly close to one family. A single mother named Michelle and her daughter Emma.”
The affection in Jane’s voice made the situation clearer. “They mean a lot to you.”
“They are the only family I have left. We live…I live with them. I met Michelle in the hospital chapel, and we became friends. Best friends. She was concerned about her daughter. I was worried about my father.
“Emma was diagnosed with ALL, acute lymphoblastic leukemia, more than a year and a half ago. There is an almost eighty percent cure rate with proper treatment, but it’s expensive. Michelle doesn’t have any medical benefits with her job and she earns too much to qualify for assistance.”
“So she’s having to pay for this on her own,” Chase said.
“Michelle can’t pay for this on her own.” The passion in Jane’s voice matched the fire in her eyes. “She owes half a million dollars and Emma has months of treatment remaining.”
This wasn’t only about Emma and her mother. He wondered what scars Jane’s father’s illness had left on her. It was none of Chase’s business, but he wanted to know.
Something in Jane Dawson sparked an interest he wanted to explore further. Nothing more than a gut instinct, but that’s why he’d accepted her lunch invitation though common sense had told him to stay away. He’d made millions by trusting his gut over common sense. “Tell me about the fundraiser.”
“I want to throw a dessert benefit to raise money to help pay Emma’s medical expenses.”
“Why a dessert?”
“I figured it would be less complicated than a dinner.”
“True, but that’s a lot of money to raise in one evening.”
“I know I can’t raise the entire amount,” she admitted. “But any amount will help them.”
At least she was realistic about her goals. He respected her drive and determination. Not many people would take on such a task for a friend. “Do you have a location picked out?”
“My boss said we could hold the event here. No charge and she would donate the coffee and tea, but it might be too small.”
Definitely too small.
“Which is why I’m looking for sponsors.” Anticipation filled her eyes. “Would your foundation sponsor the event?”
He’d raised her hopes. Chase rubbed at his neck. He should have told her the truth as soon as he arrived, but she’d seemed so nervous. He’d wanted only to put her at ease. He shifted in his chair. “I spoke with the director of the foundation. Unfortunately we won’t have the resources for another major event until January.”
She blinked. Once. Twice.
Damn. He didn’t want her to cry.
Her lower lip quivered. “I appreciate you taking the time to come here today.”
“I wanted to come.” Chase watched her pretty face and hated to see it crumple. “The foundation will make a donation.”
“T-thanks.”
“And I, uh, I…” All he had to do was write a check and say goodbye. That’s what he should do. That’s what he’d done in the past. Robin Hood, remember. Though leaving would be the smartest move, he couldn’t. Not when the only thing he wanted to do was put a sparkle in Jane Dawson’s eyes and a smile back on her face. “I will sponsor your benefit myself.”

CHAPTER TWO
“YOU’LL sponsor the benefit?” Jane asked, afraid to hope, afraid to breath.
“I will.”
What air remained in her lungs whooshed out. She un-crinkled the napkin on her lap. Talk about finding a knight in shining armor—make that denim.
No, Jane reminded herself, there was no such thing. No matter how much Chase Ryder helped, he was still just a man.
“I’ll provide everything,” he added. “You won’t need any other sponsors.”
Stuff like this only happened in dreams. Jane wanted to pinch herself. The tightness knotting her shoulders disappeared. “I don’t know what to say except thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet, the work hasn’t even begun.”
“I’m ready. You won’t be disappointed.” She couldn’t stop smiling. Wait until she told Michelle. Maybe if the event went well, Jane could start a nonprofit group to assist other families. Wait. One step at a time. If she didn’t get her hopes too high, she wouldn’t be hurt. But there was one promise she could make. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make this a fantastic event, Chase. I promise you that.”
“Jane.” The way he said her name, his voice low and sexy, made her pulse quicken. Excitement, that’s all. “I’m not just writing you a check. I want to help you organize the event.”
Organize or take over? Chase Ryder didn’t strike her as a follower. “You want to help? Me?”
He nodded. “We can work together.”
Together? He had to be joking. The man ran a major company, no doubt he had dozens of social obligations. But the look in his eyes… “You’re serious?”
He nodded.
Uh-oh. This wasn’t good. Chase Ryder, philanthropist, thought he wanted to help. And he probably did until something more important came along or the workload got too heavy, and she’d be left to pick up the pieces and do it on her own. She didn’t want to go through that again. Jane straightened.
“Wow,” she said, making an attempt to sound enthusiastic. “That’s so generous of you.”
“I just want to help.”
But she didn’t want his help. She didn’t want to rely on anyone else again.
Jane needed him to realize that working together was not a good idea without offending him. She needed him to stick to just being the sponsor of the event. “Don’t you think we might drive each other crazy? It’s hard to work together when you know someone, but when you don’t—”
“I know I can work with you.”
Yeah, because we are so much alike. She managed to keep from rolling her eyes. “We just met.”
“I trust my instinct.”
Ever since her relationship with Mark had ended, so did Jane. Right now her instincts shouted, “Run away, run away.”
“Plus,” Chase continued. “I know what I see.”
“What’s that?”
“Someone with a passion to make this event a complete success.” He stared at her as if he could see inside her heart. “I hear it in your voice and see it in your eyes.”
He had her all wrong. “That’s not passion, it’s panic.”
“Whatever you want to call it, it’s there,” he said. “You know what you want to accomplish and that’s where I come in. I have the contacts, the experience and the money to fulfill your vision. Teaming together makes sense.”
It did. To a point.
She wanted the fundraiser to succeed, but at what cost? He might want control over all the decisions. He could change his mind and walk away. “What about the time commitment? You mentioned putting on an event like this takes a lot of work. You’re so busy with your company, can you do this, too?”
“I’m the boss. I can delegate.”
Delegate or shirk his responsibilities? If he could do that with his work, he might do that with the benefit.
“Besides, aren’t you busy, yourself?” he asked. “You have a job and your own life to live.”
“Well, yes,” she said. “But the extra work is only for a short time. Once the benefit is over—”
“We can both get back to normal,” he finished for her. “I understand the time commitment which is why sharing the workload makes sense.”
Darn. He was right. Jane should say yes and be done with it. This wasn’t about her. She had to think about Emma and Michelle, not herself.
He leaned over the table. “Don’t you want my help, Jane?”
Oh, man. She was going to ruin everything if she weren’t careful. Would she ever learn…? “I—I want your help. I appreciate your offer. I really do. It’s just…”
“What?”
She moistened her lips. Might as well tell him the truth. “You’ve caught me a little off guard.”
“I’m not one for big surprises myself, but sometimes the unexpected is just what a person needs.”
Chase Ryder was the last thing she needed.
But as he continued staring at her, the concern in his eyes seemed genuine. That confused her. He didn’t know Michelle or Emma, yet he wanted to help. Worse, a part of Jane—a big part—wanted his help.
Why was she hesitating?
He was offering her dream come true. And, she realized, her worst nightmare at the same time. Once she agreed, she couldn’t predict or control the outcome. It would be out of her hands. Just like with her father’s cancer. Or Emma’s. That scared Jane.
“I would like your help. I…I probably need it.” What if it didn’t work out? What if you’re not sincere? What if…? “But have you thought this over? I mean, really considered what’s involved in organizing an event? What if something came up and you couldn’t help? Where would that leave…?” Me. “The benefit?”
He reached across the table, covered her hand with his and gave a gentle squeeze. “I won’t let you down, Jane.”
How many times had she heard those words or something similar before? Just once she wanted to believe that someone would follow through. That someone cared enough. That someone wouldn’t leave her alone.
So all alone.
She stared at his hand, large and warm over hers. His palm and fingers were rough, callused, as if he labored outside instead of working in an office. She didn’t mind his touch. She liked it. Uh-oh. Jane tugged her hand away and grabbed her drink.
“So what do you say?” Chase asked.
What other choice did she have? She wanted the benefit to be successful. That was the only goal. She might have the “passion” to put the event together, but she couldn’t do it without a sponsor. She’d be stupid if she said no. “Yes.”
“Great, because I have an amazing location.”
Jane held her iced cappuccino in midair. She should have known. He’d just gotten involved and he wanted to choose the venue. So much for any warm and fuzzy feelings about working together. She might as well get used to it. “Where is that?”
“My winery.”
The cool glass nearly slipped from her fingers. She placed the cup on the table. Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. “You have a winery?”
“In Stafford.”
Better yet. Stafford, an upscale area south of Portland, consisted of rolling hills of green covered with estates, farms, equestrian centers, golf courses and wineries. A benefit there would draw more attention than one at the Hearth. And Chase couldn’t drop his involvement if he hosted it, since his name and reputation would be on the line.
“How many guests can the winery accommodate?” she asked.
Chase raised a brow. “How many do you want it to accommodate?”
Right answer. “And we can just…use it?”
“All you have to do is pick the date.”
This sounded too perfect. And that gave her pause. Nothing could be this easy. “That’s all?”
He nodded. “Surprised?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “I hope I don’t sound rude, but what do you get out of this? Publicity for the winery?”
“No.” He thought for a moment. “But that’s not a bad idea. Publicity would help both of us out.”
Until what he needed interfered with what she needed for the fundraiser.
“But all I really want to do is to help a little girl and her mother.” An upside-down V formed above the bridge of Chase’s nose. “What do you get out of all of this?”
“I get to help someone I care about,” she said, feeling guilty for thinking he had ulterior motives. “Someone who’s in no position to do it all on her own.”
“We’re not so different, Jane Dawson.”
She begged to disagree, but couldn’t. Not when his sincere tone told Jane he meant every word. And that meant she had not only found a sponsor, but real help.
Realization that she’d succeeded pummeled her with the force of a howling blast of icy wind from the Columbia River Gorge. She had everything she wanted. Everything plus more.
Thanks to Chase Ryder.
“What?” he asked.
“I…I’m…” Feeling inadequate, yet grateful, she shifted in her chair. Wrung her hands. Tried to remain seated so she wouldn’t run over to Chase and hug him. Not that she wanted to hug him. Just thank him. “Is your name really Kris Kringle?”
“No.” Chase laughed. “Though I dressed up like Santa Claus for my sister’s kids last year.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Jane pictured Chase wearing a white beard and red suit and being surrounded by laughing children, but then she imagined herself kissing Santa, rather Chase. That would definitely complicate matters. Blinking the image away, she resolved to remain strictly focused on the benefit. No more daydreaming and no more handholding. “So when can I see this winery of yours?”
He glanced at his watch. No doubt he had to get back to the office. “How about now?”
She gulped. “Sure.”
Driving south on Interstate 5 with the pounding bass from a rock and roll song filling the Escalade’s interior, Chase glanced sideways at Jane. She stared at the passing scenery—concrete, buildings and billboards—her mouth tightly closed.
So much for putting a smile back on her face and a sparkle in her eyes. He had assumed offering his assistance would do the trick, but that had only upset her more. He didn’t get it. Or her. Most women watched his every move, tried to impress him or boost his ego. But not Jane.
“If you want to listen to something different—” he drove onto the I-205 off-ramp “—let me know.”
“Thanks,” she said. “But this music is fine.”
Another mile went by. Another song played. Jane continued gazing out the window. No forced conversation trying to find common interests. No name-dropping trying to show she belonged in his world. No…anything.
Needless chatter bothered Chase, but he found her silence both refreshing and bewildering. Other women would have talked his ears off. Why wasn’t Jane doing the same?
Sure she wasn’t his usual type. He dated professional women—lawyers, executives, venture capitalists—who weren’t clingy and who had their money, though that hadn’t kept most from wanting his, too. But Jane was still a woman. And he was a man, a rich, handsome man considered to be a “catch” if he believed his own press. Shouldn’t she be flirting with him at least a little? Was she not interested in him or playing hard to get?
He would get the chance to find out.
Maybe that would compensate for the work he’d volunteered for with the fundraiser. He wanted to help the little girl, but now after the reality had set in, Chase had no idea how to make this work. He had projects to oversee, an upcoming merger and a two-foot stack of papers on his desk.
Wait until his best friend found out what he had done.
You’re a sucker for a pretty face.
Sam’s words had been dead-on this time, and he would never let Chase live it down.
“Nice car.” Jane ran her hand along the edge of her leather seat. “It’s more comfortable than my couch.”
He noticed her trimmed but unpolished fingernails. Practical, like Jane herself. “That’s a Cadillac for you, but you should see how it handles off-road.”
“Why would you take a luxury car off-road?”
He picked up the disapproval in her voice. His normal answer “because I can” wasn’t going to cut it. He would settle for the truth.
“I tried a shortcut once and ended up on forest service road then found myself on a logging road.” He patted the dashboard. “It was a little hairy, but the car came through fine. I doubt I’ll do it again, though.”
“Smart move.”
“You’re right.” Finally he had her attention. Good. Now he had to keep it. “That’s why I bought a four-wheel drive truck. And a couple of dirt bikes.”
“How many cars do you have?”
“Six,” he said proudly.
“Six.” She didn’t sound impressed.
“Not counting the dirt bikes, a motorcycle and two race cars.” He focused on the road. A white pickup pulled a horse-trailer ahead of them. “The race cars aren’t street legal.”
“So do you spin a wheel to see which one of the six cars you’ll drive each day?”
He couldn’t decide if she was being sarcastic or humorous. He would try funny. “No, I reach into a bag and pull out a key.”
Her grin reached her eyes, but no sparkle. Damn, he was hoping to get both with one shot.
“You could use a dartboard,” she said.
“My throwing precision would remove the element of Fate.”
“Not if you closed your eyes.”
There. Not quite a sparkle, but he glimpsed a twinkle in her eyes. Something stirred inside him. Something good, but unfamiliar. “Is that what you would do?”
She laughed, and the warm sound sunk into him. “If I thought I had six cars, my eyes would be closed because I would be dreaming.”
The more he learned about Jane, the more he wanted to know. He exited on Stafford Road and turned right. “What do you drive?”
“I take Metro, either the bus or the MAX train depending on where I am, where I need to go and when.” She touched the leather seat once again. “It’s not so bad.”
Not bad at all. Chase wondered what it would feel like if Jane stroked him like that with her fingertips and hand. The scene forming in his mind sent his temperature rising.
She glanced over at him. “Not as nice a ride as this, but it gets me there.”
“With the scrape of brakes and the crunch of bodies.”
“It’s not that crowded, but…” She pursed her lips. “How did you know?”
He hadn’t always driven a Cadillac. “In college, I didn’t have a car so I relied on public transportation.”
“Sure you did.”
“I’m serious.” Chase didn’t want her to think he was patronizing her. “On weekends, I would take get on the Red line at Kendall Square and ride the T, similar to a MAX train, to Park Street. I’d transfer to the Green line and get off at Kenmore Square.”
“Where was that?”
“Boston.”
“Harvard?” she asked.
“MIT.”
Her eyes widened. “MIT?”
“Massachusetts Institute of Technology.”
“I know what MIT is. A top science and engineering school,” she explained. “I just forgot about you being hi-tech.”
“Hi-tech. Guess that’s better than geek,” he said. “Though it makes me sound like a robot or something.”
“You mean a robotic shark that’s not afraid to bite anything.”
“Now that would be intimidating.” He glanced her way. “Except you forgot one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t bite. I nibble.”
She looked out the window and adjusted her glasses.
Chase grinned, but said nothing, enjoying the graceful, yet nibble-worthy curve of her neck.
“What does Cyberworx do?” Jane asked.
“Lots of different things.” He loved talking about his company. “Our newest division has been working with quantum dots, photonic crystals and carbon nano tubes.”
Her eyes glossed over. “I’m not going to attempt a comment.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” she said. “It’s not your fault I’m about as non-technical as they come. Want to know a secret?”
“Sure.” Now they were getting somewhere, but he doubted she would share her favorite places to be kissed. “And I promise not to tell.”
“I don’t own a computer,” she said.
“Not everyone owns a computer.” Something wasn’t adding up about this conversation, and then Chase remembered. “Didn’t you offer to e-mail me information about the benefit this morning?”
“I use the computers at the library.”
This complicated matters. “Do you go there every day?”
“No.”
“I rely on e-mail to get things done,” he explained. “It’s the easiest way for me to keep in touch and contact you.”
“I’ll stop by the library every day and check my e-mail.”
Not good enough. “I have a better idea. You can borrow one of my laptops.”
“Thanks, but um…don’t you need some sort of Internet access or something?”
“Yes.” He recognized the flash of panic in her eyes. No car, no computer, no money. But that didn’t mean she had no pride, either. He understood that. And he was beginning to understand Jane a little better. “But I have a special wireless deal. It won’t cost you anything.”
He waited for her reply. A beat passed. And another. She was going to say no. Somehow he would have to convince her to change her mind. For both their sakes.
“Thanks,” she said instead. “That would make things easier.”
He hadn’t seen that one coming. She had pride, but practicality had won out. “Great.”
“As long as it’s no problem,” Jane added.
He turned left and drove past an alpaca farm. “It’s no problem.”
And it wasn’t. Chase got the feeling working with Jane was not going to be a problem at all especially if they could mix a little pleasure—not to mention nibbling—with business.
As Chase punched in a security code to open the double wrought-iron gates, Jane stared at the grapes growing over trellises in neatly spaced rows behind the stone wall paralleling the road. To the left sat a big building where Chase said the wine was produced. Up on the hillside, sunlight reflected off the copper roof of a grand-size house. At least she thought it must be copper. The structure looked old, built of some sort of stone or brick, like a castle or villa. She leaned forward for a better view.
The gates opened, and Chase drove inside.
Anticipation built. She felt as if she were Cinderella arriving at the castle on the night of the ball. Jane had no idea what to expect and couldn’t wait to see everything. Until she remembered. Once the clock struck midnight it would be all over. She settled back against the comfortable leather seat.
A paved driveway wound up the grape covered hillside. Antique-looking lights were strategically placed along the roadside to illuminate the way at night. As they gained elevation, the house—more like a mansion—came into clear view. Jane gasped. “It’s as if we’ve been transported from Oregon to Italy or France.”
“A château in Bordeaux inspired the estate.”
“The designer did his research.” She truly felt as if she were part of a fairy tale. She expected to see white horses gallop by. And a prince. She glanced at Chase. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thanks,” he said. “The first time I saw this place I had to have it. No matter what the cost.”
His world was a hundred and eighty degrees from hers. She couldn’t afford to rent an apartment by herself, buy a car or replace lost contact lenses. “Must be nice to be able to have whatever you want.”
His gaze met hers, and her heart skipped a beat. “It doesn’t suck.”
Jane smiled. “If I lived here, I would never leave.”
“You haven’t seen the inside of the house yet.”
“True,” she admitted. “But I’m sure it doesn’t suck.”
“It doesn’t.” His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “But I don’t live here.”
“Why not?”
“It’s too far from work,” he said. “Too much traffic to deal with.”
“You own a piece of paradise, and you’re worried about traffic?” The question slipped out. Of course, he couldn’t live here. It wouldn’t be practical. She could appreciate that, especially in someone who had everything. Still it bothered her.
“I don’t have patience when it comes to wasting time.” He studied her. “Don’t tell me you like being stuck in traffic?”
“Traffic means I can read longer.” And study and do more homework. “Doesn’t it seem a little sad to leave this place empty?”
“I have staff living on site.” He parked the car. “I spend an occasional weekend here. And my family uses it, too.”
But it didn’t seem enough to Jane. She slid out the front seat and went to Chase, who had removed his sport coat and left it in the car. No need for a jacket on the sunny September day.
He pointed to a large, boxy building perched below the main house. “I want you to see the barn where we’ll hold the event.”
Barn? She didn’t see any red paint or smell anything that suggested animals lived nearby.
As Jane followed him down a wide cobblestone path, the sun glimmered off Chase’s hair. She imagined curling the ends with her fingertips. Unfamiliar warmth flowed through her veins. She needed to stop thinking about touching the man.
“Welcome to the barn,” he said.
She forced her attention on the big rectangular building that resembled another château only this one was single-story. Chase pulled open one of the two sizable wooden doors.
She stepped inside. Her mouth gaped. Forget animals. No four-legged creatures would ever be allowed inside such an elegant space with hardwood floors and a vaulted, wood-beamed ceiling. “This isn’t a barn.”
“No, but that’s what I call it.”
“I’d call it perfect.”
He laughed. “The winery’s original owners designed the space as a reception and event site. Since wedding planners are so picky, they made sure everything was, in a word, perfect.”
Chase showed where bars or drink stations could be set up. He turned on the lights to show her the kitchen with professional grade stainless steel appliances.
Back in the main room, she took in every inch of the lovely space. This was so much bigger and so much nicer than she imagined. “I can’t believe anyone complained when they got married here.”
“I bought the estate before any weddings took place.”
“Let me guess,” she said. “You made them an offer they couldn’t refuse.”
“Let’s say I made them an offer they accepted on the spot.”
“Sounds more like a gobble than a nibble or bite.”
“Guilty.”
Charming and kind, but still a shark. She was going to have to be careful around him. “I knew it.”
Chase grinned. “Emma’s benefit will be the first event held here.”
She loved how he called it Emma’s benefit. And then she realized what he’d said. “The first event here? Ever?”
He nodded. “The curiosity factory should bring people in.”
The news sunk in. Okay, it actually smacked her brain and bounced off. “This is a great place for a party or dinner or a million other things. Why haven’t you used it?”
“I like my privacy,” he said. “My nieces and nephews run around in here when it’s raining.”
She tried to match the public Chase Ryder—the one who according to Ally appeared regularly in Sunday’s society page—to the man standing in front of her. Tried and failed. “Thank you for allowing Emma’s fundraiser to be the first event here. I’m…we’re honored you’d open your home, I mean, this place to us.”
“Would you like to see the rest of the estate?” he asked.
She toured the operations facility and received a glass of the winery’s award winning Pinot Noir to sip while they strolled the grounds.
He showed her a dirt lot where guests could park. “We can have valets and shuttle guests up the hill to the barn.”
As he pointed out where a tented waiting area could be installed, Jane tried to understand the logistics of it all. She hadn’t considered parking an issue. Why should she? She no longer owned a car.
With the wineglass in hand, she followed Chase through the artfully designed gardens surrounding the mansion. Lavender scented the air. Low clipped hedges divided beds of flowers and greenery. An arbor of roses anchored one end, a fountain surrounded with colorful flowers and rosebushes the other.
“Do you know what floral arrangements you want?” he asked.
She hadn’t thought that far. Not that she knew anything about flowers except the names of the most common ones. “No.”
“I have two florists I use regularly, but if you have your own florist, that’s fine.”
A florist of her own? Jane nearly choked on her wine. The last time she’d received flowers was when her father died. “Feel free to talk to your florists.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Getting Chase involved would take the benefit to a higher level. That’s what she needed to do to bring in the big donors. Whereas he knew exactly what needed to be done and how to do it, she knew nothing. She felt completely inadequate and totally insecure.
As he led her through the tastefully decorated Architectural Digest-worthy interior of the château, those feelings threatened to swamp her. By the time they reached the balcony and stared at the unobstructed view of Mount Hood, the emotions overwhelmed her. Jane couldn’t enjoy the scent of flowers—bougainvilleas if she wasn’t mistaken—from nearby flower pots. She fought the urge to down the remaining wine in her glass.
The estate and Chase were something out of dream, but not her dream. She knew better than to reach for the golden ring or buy a lottery ticket or wish for something that would never happen. The sinking feeling in her stomach matched the slump of her shoulders. She leaned against the railing.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
She didn’t know where to begin. Because Chase wouldn’t understand. He couldn’t understand.
“Jane?”
She bit her lip. Took a deep breath. Exhaled slowly. “I’m feeling a bit…a lot overwhelmed right now.”
“That’s normal.”
Nothing about this situation was normal. She fit in at Chase’s château winery as well as a barefoot, homeless orphan peddling matchsticks at Buckingham Palace. Okay, slight exaggeration. She wasn’t that bad off. Jane owned shoes, lived in an apartment and had a job. But that wasn’t the worst of it. She didn’t have a clue what to do when it came to the benefit. That had become clear today.
What was she going to do?
She and Chase lived in completely different galaxies. Light years away from each other. How on earth could she pull this off?

CHAPTER THREE
JANE couldn’t do this. She’d been kidding herself to think otherwise. If only she hadn’t told Michelle about organizing a fundraiser. And approached Chase.
He took the glass from her hand. “You’re trembling.”
Was she? Jane crossed her arms. It didn’t help.
“Come inside.” He held the two glasses in one hand, pressed his other against the small of her back and led her through a pair of French doors. “Have a seat on the couch.”
As she sank onto the overstuffed sofa, Chase placed the glasses on a wooden table.
This wasn’t the time to be concerned about water rings, but she couldn’t help reacting to his casual disregard for his beautiful furniture. “Shouldn’t you put coasters down first?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
He grabbed a blue throw from a chair and covered her legs. She touched the soft as a feather fabric, probably cashmere.
“Would you like a cup of coffee or glass of water?”
She didn’t want him waiting on her. She wanted to leave. She’d wasted too much of his time already. But she had no car, no idea where the closest bus stop might be and no cell phone to call Michelle for a ride home. Jane considered asking Chase to borrow one of his six cars until she realized that meant seeing him again to return the keys. “No, thank you.”
Jane stared at the painting over the fireplace. She recognized the picture, but couldn’t remember the artist or title.
He sat next to her on the couch, his thigh nearly touching hers. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“About what?” Stupid reply, but his nearness disturbed her as much as his question. One more reason to get out of here.
The upside-down V reappeared above the bridge of Chase’s nose. “What’s bothering you?”
How could she explain she’d gotten slapped with a harsh dose of reality while touring his estate? She’d wanted to do something she couldn’t possibly manage out of love for Michelle and Emma. Jane had been swept up in a fantasy only to realize it had all been a pipe dream, not the sort of thing she could pull off. And she’d long since stopped believing in pipe dreams.
He waited and watched. For a man who had no patience with traffic, he showed an amazing amount with her. He deserved an answer, some kind of explanation.
“Would it be horrible if I changed my mind?” she asked.
“About having the benefit here?”
“About having the benefit altogether.” The words tumbled from her mouth, and she felt horrible for having said them. Michelle and Emma were counting on her, but Jane was afraid.
“You can do anything you want.” He stared at her, his eyes betraying nothing. “But are you sure? You seemed so excited a little while ago.”
She didn’t, couldn’t answer. Not when a little while ago she’d been completely delusional about her abilities to organize the fundraiser.
“You feel that overwhelmed?”
His concern brought a lump to her throat. Jane nodded.
“If the thought overwhelms you so much, the work probably would, too.”
“I’ve never behaved like this before.” Regret washed over her. She expected him to be angry, not show compassion. She wanted to see his ruthless shark side. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so bad. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” His encouraging smile made her feel worse. “I’ve found myself overwhelmed many a time.”
Chase Ryder? Overwhelmed? Maybe when he was a toddler standing on the edge of cliff alone. Jane held onto the blanket. “Are you always this understanding?”
“No, but I do have two sisters. Understanding is part of being a brother.” He picked up his wineglass. “I will admit having someone to share the workload on this would have been nice.”
“On what?”
“I’m putting on Emma’s benefit with or without you.”
Jane stared at him. “Why?”
“The medical bills still need to be paid and Emma needs more treatments, correct?”
“Yes, but—”
“She and her mother need help,” he said. “It shouldn’t matter who throws the benefit for them.”
Guilt clogged Jane’s throat. The fundraiser had been her idea. Her responsibility. Not his. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to do this.” He sipped his wine. “I’m thinking a black-tie event will bring in more money.”
She straightened. “A bit formal for a dessert, don’t you think?”
“Not just a dessert.”
His eyes held a hint of mystery, a secret she wanted to know. Jane waited, until she couldn’t wait any longer. “What?”
“A five-hundred-dollar-a-plate dinner with wine tasting.”
Her mouth gaped. She snapped it closed.
This was no longer her responsibility. This was no longer her problem. Forget about it. That was what she should do.
But she couldn’t.
“What about Emma?” Jane asked. “She wouldn’t be comfortable at a formal event. Michelle, either. They want to participate, not sit at home and wait for a check to be delivered. And what about their friends who want to support the benefit, but can’t afford that much.”
“Isn’t the goal to raise money?” Chase asked.
“Yes.” That was always the bottom line for people. Jane tightened her fingers around the throw. “But there are other ways of raising money besides having people dress up like a flock of penguins and feeding them fancy foods like foie gras.”
“You have something against foie gras?”
“It’s the liver of force-fed geese. Fat liver is the literal translation if I remember my high school French.”
He nodded once. Smiled.
The way he sat there looking gorgeous and knowing all the answers infuriated her. Turning this event into one of the fancy shindigs he normally attended was not in Emma’s best interest. “I wouldn’t feed that to an animal let alone pay for the opportunity to eat it.”
“A lot of people would.”
She wanted to wipe the smile off his face. “What about Emma? The benefit is for her. How does she fit into all this?”
“She can make an appearance at a convenient time or we can hang pictures of her on the walls.”
His ideas incensed Jane. “Why not hang posters of Emma looking pale, tired and sick so people will pity her and donate more money?”

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