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The Inconveniently Engaged Prince
Mindy Neff


Charming Prince Must Convince Fiancee She's His CinderellaJace Carradigne and Vicki Meadland had the kind of whirlwind courtship found only in fairy tales. But when Vicki learned that her Prince Charming was, well, a prince, and heir to a royal throne, she feared that her past secrets could get in the way of his future reign. With a dangerous enemy threatening to expose her, there was only one thing for a woman in love to do–flee for the good of her man. But Jace was used to getting what he wanted. And all he wanted was Vicki! Could he convince her that her past didn't matter? Would there be a royal title in her future?Get all the facts inside…as a search for an heir to the throne leads to scandals of royal proportions for The Carradignes: American Royalty







The Carradignes: American Royalty

Who’s Who?

Prince Jace Carradigne: Sure, he’s the king of his own cell-phone empire, but who knew that Jace was actually an heir to a throne! And now he’s found the woman of his dreams. But all is not happily-ever-after in Jace’s fairy-tale world….

Victoria Meadland: This charming cocktail waitress has always done for herself until her very own Prince Charming sweeps her off her feet. But Victoria has a secret that may keep her from becoming a real-life Cinderella.

Prince Markus Carradigne: The Korosolan throne should have been his. And this disinherited prince is prepared to use any means necessary to ensure that he, not Jace, receives the crown.

King Easton Carradigne: This noble ruler won’t rest until he finds the right man—or woman—to succeed him.


Dear Reader,

Millionaire. Prince. Secret agent. Doctor. If any—or all—of these men strike your fancy, well…you’re in luck! These fabulous guys are waiting for you in the pages of this month’s offerings from Harlequin American Romance.

His best friend’s request to father her child leads millionaire Gabe Deveraux to offer a bold marriage proposal in My Secret Wife by Cathy Gillen Thacker, the latest installment of THE DEVERAUX LEGACY series. A royal request makes Prince Jace Carradigne heir to a throne—and in search of his missing fiancée—in Mindy Neff’s The Inconveniently Engaged Prince, part of our ongoing series THE CARRADIGNES: AMERICAN ROYALTY. (And there are royals galore to be found when the series comes to a sensational ending in Heir to the Throne, a special two-in-one collection by Kasey Michaels and Carolyn Davidson, available next month wherever Harlequin books are sold.)

Kids, kangaroos and a kindhearted woman are all in a day’s work for cool and collected secret agent Mike Wheeler in Secret Service Dad, the second book in Mollie Molay’s GROOMS IN UNIFORM series. And a big-city doctor attempts to hide his true identity—and his affections—for a Montana beauty in The Doctor Wore Boots by Debra Webb, the conclusion to the TRADING PLACES duo.

So be sure to catch all of these wonderful men this month—and every month—as you enjoy their wonderful love stories from Harlequin American Romance.

Happy reading,

Melissa Jeglinski

Associate Senior Editor

Harlequin American Romance


The Inconveniently Engaged Prince

Mindy Neff






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To Michelle Thorne,

Super heroine and proprietress of the fabulous Bearly Used Books store. You’re a classy, gracious and fun lady,

and the best kind of friend!




ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Mindy Neff published her first book with Harlequin American Romance in 1995. Since then, she has appeared regularly on the Waldenbooks bestseller list and won numerous awards, including the National Readers’ Choice Award, the Romantic Times Career Achievement Award, three W.I.S.H. Awards for Outstanding Hero and two Gold Medal reviews from Romantic Times magazine, as well as nominations for the Holt Medallion, Golden Quill, Orange Rose and twice for the prestigious RITA® Award.

Originally from Louisiana, Mindy settled in Southern California, where she married a really romantic guy and raised five great kids. Family, friends, writing and reading are her passions. When Mindy is not writing, her ideal getaway is a good book, hot sunshine and a chair at the river’s edge at her second home in Parker, Arizona.

Mindy loves to hear from readers. You can write to her at 8502 E. Chapman, #355, Orange, CA 92869, or through her Web site at www.mindyneff.com (http://www.mindyneff.com), or e-mail at mindyneff@aol.com (http://mindyneff@aol.com).




Books by Mindy Neff


HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

644—A FAMILY MAN

663—ADAM’S KISS

679—THE BAD BOY NEXT DOOR

711—THEY’RE THE ONE!

739—A BACHELOR FOR THE BRIDE

759—THE COWBOY IS A DADDY

769—SUDDENLY A DADDY

795—THE VIRGIN & HER BODYGUARD * (#litres_trial_promo)

800—THE PLAYBOY & THE MOMMY * (#litres_trial_promo)

809—A PREGNANCY AND A PROPOSAL

830—THE RANCHER’S MAIL-ORDER BRIDE † (#litres_trial_promo)

834—THE PLAYBOY’S OWN MISS PRIM † (#litres_trial_promo)

838—THE HORSEMAN’S CONVENIENT WIFE † (#litres_trial_promo)

857—THE SECRETARY GETS HER MAN

898—CHEYENNE’S LADY † (#litres_trial_promo)

902—THE DOCTOR’S INSTANT FAMILY † (#litres_trial_promo)

906—PREACHER’S IN-NAME-ONLY WIFE † (#litres_trial_promo)

909—THE McCALLUM QUINTUPLETS “Delivered with a Kiss”

925—IN THE ENEMY’S EMBRACE

946—THE INCONVENIENTLY ENGAGED PRINCE










Contents


Prologue (#u2eb363cf-95b3-5032-b09c-aacd2f4dcb7d)

Chapter One (#uff8996ff-4d64-5d73-9b00-473ab29ed68f)

Chapter Two (#u13a575af-0936-5a06-a502-7c4e3179318c)

Chapter Three (#u04169bcd-3394-5128-a232-3a3650c8b19f)

Chapter Four (#uf1241c5a-e9ac-5710-8144-7c2c0ca31fea)

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)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)




Prologue


He was surrounded by luxury, the best money could buy, but this particular October in Manhattan was damned cold. He paced the richly decorated rooms of his midtown apartment, ice tinkling in his tumbler of scotch—the finest brand, of course.

When his private phone rang, he didn’t immediately answer, hoped to God that idiot he was spending a king’s ransom on would remember to use the code.

After three rings, he punched the call button. “Speak.”

“Jace Carradigne’s clean. One speeding ticket four years ago. That’s it.”

“Not good enough. You know what I need.” He gulped scotch, desperate to feel the buzz. The buzz sharpened his mind, calmed him.

“Yes, of course. It might take some time, though. His company’s telecommunication stock is due to split—for the third time. His employees regard him as a pal. He can name his own hours or take a five-year sabbatical and never have to alter his lifestyle. The guy’s rolling in dough.”

His fingers tightened around the crystal tumbler in his hand, the pressure threatening to shatter the heavy, obnoxiously expensive glass. Why did everyone else get these lucky breaks?

Money and power should be his. It was his right.

And the old man wanted to take it away from him.

It’s not going to happen. If he couldn’t find the information he needed to discredit Jace Carradigne, he’d just have to do it the hard way.

He sipped his scotch, letting the smooth fire dance on his tongue. Truthfully, arranging…accidents wasn’t as difficult as most people believed. And pointing the finger away from himself was like taking candy from a baby.

He nearly giggled at the rush of power that swam through the pleasant haze of alcohol. Let anyone dare to get in his way and they’d suffer the consequences. He just had to let them know they were getting in his way.

After that…well, forewarned was being sporting on his part. He wondered if Jace Carradigne liked to play.

“You have one week. Either get me something, or you’re out.”




Chapter One


Victoria Meadland’s stomach cartwheeled as she looked up and saw him crossing the crowded bar.

Jace Carradigne had been coming to the trendy nightclub in San Diego’s Gaslamp Quarter every Friday evening with his pals for several months now.

Recently, he’d been coming in more often. And alone.

To see her.

Her fingers trembled against the tray of dirty glasses and half-empty beer bottles she was in the process of dumping. She cleared her tray and handed the bartender, Paul, the next round of orders she’d collected.

Diamond Jim’s did an excellent business on most any night of the week, but Fridays were the busiest. She only worked part-time, but she needed the job until she could get her final college credits and start teaching school, which was her real dream.

And that meant she shouldn’t be fraternizing with the customers. Or anticipating a certain man’s contagious smile or exuberant compliments.

The problem was, Jace’s appearance was something she’d come to count on, to look for. It was like a standing date that neither of them had actually agreed to. Every time she saw him, she wanted to pinch herself.

Tall and surfer-guy handsome, his skin tanned, his dark blond hair streaked from the California sun, he headed straight toward her, made her feel as though she’d stepped into the pages of a fairy tale.

He always had a ready smile on his face and was quick to laugh or tease. His dynamic personality simply swept others along in his powerful presence.

She cautioned herself to be careful. God knows she’d made enough mistakes in her life. She wasn’t going to jump so fast this time. No matter what her heart bade her otherwise.

She swept her shoulder-length brown hair behind her ear and tried to still the pounding of her heart. Jazz music vied with the raised voices of couples, tourists and business pals unwinding after the work-week. For an instant, everything seemed to fade into the background, as though a friendly sorceress or angel had snapped the world into freeze mode.

Jace eased up to the bar, a dimple creasing his cheek, his hair tousled from the late October evening breeze.

“I swear I’ve never seen a prettier sight. Marry me, Victoria.”

She nearly choked on her breath. The din of music and voices swirled into the forefront of her consciousness once more.

For one heart-stopping moment, she almost imagined he was serious. Then she got a grip.

She shook her head. “Jace, Jace. You know I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can. Say yes and I’ll have the company plane wing us over to Vegas.”

“And be responsible for hearts breaking all over Southern California? Sorry, pal. Too much burden for my conscience.” This wasn’t the first time he’d greeted her with the outrageous suggestion.

“I already told you. I’m free as a bird. Not a single heart on the line for you to worry about.”

“You might be surprised,” she murmured. Her own heart was straddling a precarious line.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” She wiped away a circle of water on the bar and refilled the bowl of popcorn.

“Hmm.” The twinkle in his eye said he didn’t believe her, but would let it go for the moment. “Since I’ve asked you to marry me, don’t you think you should at least agree to go out with me?”

“You’re crazy,” she said, half-amused, more than a little tempted.

“About you.”

Lord, he was cute. Funny, attentive, wealthy… “You don’t even know me.”

“Sure I do. I’ve seen you at least once a week for the past month. That makes us practically engaged.” He checked his watch. “You’re off in half an hour, right? Let me take you out for a late dinner.”

“I have to study.”

“No one should study on an empty stomach. It’s a Carradigne rule.”

She bit her lip to keep from laughing. “I already had dinner.”

“What, at five o’clock? That was almost six hours ago. Okay, how about coffee? Come on, Vickie. Say yes.”

She picked up the tray Paul had filled with the latest drink order and scooted out from behind the bar. Passing his stool, she hesitated for a fraction of an instant. The darn man was simply too irresistible.

“Yes.”

He whooped and she hid a grin as she made her way through tables filled with patrons, several of which shouldn’t be ordering another alcoholic beverage. The saxophone player on stage announced this was the last song of the set and rattled off the dates and places where their group would be appearing next.

As she delivered drinks and stuffed tips in her pocket, she kept a subtle eye on Jace Carradigne. More than one female in the room tried to get his attention, but he didn’t seem to notice. Instead, his gaze followed her as though she were the only woman in the universe.

It was a heady experience. Especially for Victoria. A man like Jace Carradigne seemed too good to be true. Then again, she might be building fantasies where they didn’t belong. She hadn’t even had a formal date with him.

Yet.

Why had she agreed to go out with him tonight after refusing him for the past month? She’d thought he’d lose interest after the first couple of times she’d said no. She was sure he was just teasing, being friendly, passing a Friday night. Being a flirt.

But there was something deeper in his laughing green eyes. Something that made her want to ease into him and let him slay her dragons and be her knight.

And those kind of thoughts were ones that would get her in trouble. She had plenty of past experience to go by. From now on, she was going to look before she leapt. She wasn’t going to try to define herself through a man. Wasn’t going to search for love in all the wrong places, or mistake infatuation for the real thing.

Been there, done that, she thought, unconsciously touching the two sapphire rings she wore on the middle finger of her right hand. And the consequences had left irreparable scars on her soul.

“Looks like you’ve made Mr. Cell Phone millionaire a happy man,” Tiffany Hershey commented as she scooted Vickie aside and automatically began clearing dirty glasses from the table.

“Why do you always define people by their profession or bank account?”

Tiffany shrugged and grinned. “Girl, bank accounts are important. And when they come with a guy who looks like that…” Her gaze strayed toward the bar. “Well, I’d say you’ve struck the mother lode.”

“There’s more to Jace than his business success,” Vickie defended.

“Mmm, and you’re going to find out how much more, right?”

“We’re just going for coffee.”

“I know. I overheard. And you were officially off the clock three minutes ago.” Tiffany laid a hand on Vickie’s arm, her heavily made-up eyes turning serious. “Give him a chance, hon.”

“Tiffany…”

“Don’t give me that tone. You’ve got a wall around you a mile high. All you do is work and study. You deserve some happiness in your life.”

Over one too many glasses of wine after work one night, Vickie had told Tiffany about her life and the reason she’d sworn off men. She didn’t often tell her secrets to others, and had regretted opening up to the other woman. Just thinking about it brought her shame.

But Tiffany had turned out to be a gentle champion and confidante. Despite the other woman’s flamboyance, they’d formed a friendship.

“He’s out of my league.”

“Get outta here. You’ve got more to offer a man than most of them even deserve. Sometimes I think you’re too sweet for your own good, but I think this guy’s different. He doesn’t strike me as one to take advantage.”

“If he is, he won’t get far with me. I’m not traveling that road again.”

“That’s a great attitude, hon. But you still have to bend a little. Let people in.”

“We’ll see.” She’d let people in before. Too easily. And the bones of the myriad skeletons in her closet were a rattling echo in her heart and mind. Every day.

The bar would be open for another three hours, but like Tiffany had pointed out, Vickie’s shift was over. She retrieved her tips for the night and slipped in the back room to hang up her apron and grab her denim jacket. Paul was good about working around her school schedule, letting her have flexible hours and plenty of time to study.

At thirty-one, she was starting a bit late in the game toward a career, but better late than never. She was going to make something of herself. Securing an education and a stable, respectable career as a teacher meant everything to her. Eventually, she might even pursue her master’s and go into counseling.

She’d long ago lost contact with any of the people from the group homes she was raised in, but it was a burning point of pride that she show them—at least in her own mind—that she could excel, overcome the sins of the past.

A past where nobody had cared enough to ask if a little girl had dreams.

As a teacher, perhaps she could make a difference in just one child’s life. Be the type of role model she’d always wished had been there for her. Help a young girl or boy realize that they could reach for a dream.

Her heart thumped in her chest and her nerve endings tingled as she headed back to the counter where Jace Carradigne sipped a beer and waited for her. She wasn’t afraid of the man himself. She was afraid of what he made her feel. What he could easily make her forget: that she’d sworn off relationships until she’d graduated from college and accomplished her teaching goals.

He stood when she approached. “Ready?”

“I really should go home and study. I’ve got a psychology test on Monday.”

“See there? You’re in luck. I’m the perfect guy to help you out in that area.”

A bubble of laughter tickled its way up her throat. “I’m afraid to ask how.”

“I excelled in psychology classes in college. Had to actually, just to save my sanity. You see my sister, Kelly, was one of those gifted kids. She’s only twenty-six, but she’s already a scientist. She’s got multiple degrees in various fields of medicine.”

“And why did that compel you to study psychology?” They made their way toward the door and Vickie waved good-night to Tiffany.

“Because she used bigger words than I could understand.”

Vickie rolled her eyes. “I doubt that. According to your friends who’ve so helpfully given you references, you’re a self-made success story. The king of cell phones. A man like that’s not intimidated by a few big words.”

“See? Great guys, my friends. The king title’s a little over the top—even though I am related to a royal family. Was it my buddies singing my praises that made you decide to go out with me?”

She wanted to smile at the way he teasingly claimed a connection to royalty. She knew he’d deliberately put his friends up to giving him “references.” And they’d had great fun doing it. “I haven’t really decided to go out with you.”

“Too late. We’re out.” He gestured around to the crisp night where quaint wrought iron streetlamps illuminated the sidewalks in front of restored buildings that had stood since the 1870s. “And you’re with me.”

She shook her head. “Literal, aren’t you?”

“I can be. Think of me as your study aid. We’ll exchange information, delve into each other’s psyche. I’m an open book. Anything you want to know, just ask.”

Hiking the strap of her purse over her shoulder, she shoved her hands in the pockets of her denim jacket. The October air was brisk and invigorating. “Are you always so…”

“So what?”

“I don’t know. Happy?”

He laughed. “It’s called being positive. It’s an energy. Very effective business tool.”

“And personal one as well.”

“Is it working?”

“I think you know it is.” She glanced at the sidewalk tables outside a café. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“Well, it’s your call, but I’ve got a great condo across the bay. Incredible view. And I make a killer omelet. Decent coffee, too.”

“And I suppose you have some etchings you’d like to show me, as well?”

He slapped a wide palm to his chest. “Victoria, my love. You wound me. I’m a perfect gentleman.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. The man inspired it. He also made her nervous. Especially when he used those endearments so casually. “I think I’m a little overwhelmed by you.”

“Can’t have that. We’ll save the view for next time. How about the coffee shop around the corner. They’ve got a great caramel apple pie.”

“Now that’s just flat-out not fair. I’m a sweets nut.”

He leaned in close. “Mmm. I figured that about you. Will it scare you off if I warn you I’m dying to take a bite?” His eyes caressed her hair, her lips. “Of you.”

Desire washed over her so swiftly her head swam. Not good. Don’t backslide, Vickie.

She cleared her throat, took her hands out of her pockets and fiddled with the strap of her purse. “Um…yes.”

“Okay. We’ll ease into that.”

“Jace—”

He paused, put a finger over her lips. “You’re safe with me, Victoria. I joke around a lot, but I’m a nice guy. Honest.”

The warmth of his finger against her lips made her want to taste him. In his eyes was sincerity. The problem was, she’d been taken in before. She wasn’t too sure about her own judgment when it came to men and their intentions.

Oh, she wanted to believe him. Wanted to let down her guard and be a normal woman who could take life as it came and not worry about appearances or mistakes or anything else. But the past was always there. Lurking. A reminder.

“You’re thinking too hard,” he said.

“I’m a little rusty at this sort of thing.”

“What, going for coffee? It’s a snap.

Just follow my lead.”

Just like that he could put her at ease. She decided he was right. She was thinking this to death. For once in a very long time, she was going to go with the flow and simply relax in the company of a nice man.

“Then lead on.”

JACE CHOSE a corner booth at a trendy coffee house, and watched as Vickie slid onto the sea-green, vinyl bench. He wanted to scoot in next to her, feel the warmth of her body against his, but sat opposite her instead. He didn’t want to scare her off when she’d finally agreed to come out with him.

It was crazy really. He’d never reacted this way to a woman before. But the moment he’d seen her serving drinks at Diamond Jim’s he’d been hooked. Maybe it was the innocence of her sweet smile, or the dimples in her cheeks, or the soft music of her voice, or that intriguing glimpse of the little tattoo he’d seen on the small of her back when her sweater had ridden up as she’d bent over to wipe a table.

Or maybe it was something deeper. She touched him on a level he couldn’t quite define.

He didn’t know her, but wanted to remedy that. She was beautiful in a wholesome way, fresh and intriguing. She didn’t give much away, and he’d tried like mad to get her to open up. Instead, like a woman of mystery, she’d just smile and glide away—intriguing him all the more.

He’d teasingly gotten his friends to vouch for him and found himself suddenly nervous over her opinion. What had started as a friendly lark, a flirtation with a pretty waitress, had become soul-deep important.

He watched as she tucked her mink-colored hair behind her ears. He’d come to know the gesture as a nervous one.

What he was experiencing was more like a gut instinct—an incredibly strong gut instinct. And he’d made millions in the business world relying on his hunches.

He had an idea Victoria Meadland was going to change his life.

“Relax,” he said.

“I told you, I’m out of practice.”

“There are no expectations, here. I’d like it if we could just be ourselves.”

“Is that a rarity in your business life?”

He shrugged. “Not really. I’m the kind of guy who figures you might as well take me as I come.”

“I admire that kind of self-confidence.”

“Anybody can have it. In fact, I give miniseminars on positive attitudes to my employees. It’s amazing what it does for closing a deal.”

“Maybe I ought to sign up for one of your classes.”

“Are you kidding? You could probably teach the class. After watching you this past month, I’d say you’ve got more self-confidence than my whole company put together.” For some reason that caused her eyes to light with pleasure. Hmm. Had someone told her she wasn’t good enough sometime in her life? In his book, that was inexcusable.

“It’s called giving the customer what they want without letting them step over the line,” she said.

“Like holding me at bay for over a month?”

She grinned. “Something like that.”

The waitress stopped by their table. Jace hadn’t even looked at the menu. He wasn’t really hungry, but apple caramel pie was almost as much of a temptation as Vickie was.

“Did you guys want to order something?” the waitress asked. She was young and looked like she’d rather be anywhere else but here.

Jace grinned at her, and noted that she perked up a bit. “Absolutely. I’ll have the specialty pie and a cappuccino with extra cream. Vic?”

“Cheesecake, I think. And a decaf, white chocolate latte.”

The waitress scribbled the orders and left. “Decaf?” he asked. “I thought you were going to study.”

“I will. But I don’t intend to be up all night doing it. What’s your excuse?”

“Caffeine doesn’t keep me awake.”

“Lucky you.”

“Sometimes. So, Victoria Meadland, tell me all about yourself.” The withdrawal was subtle, but he noticed it, noticed the slight flush of her skin, as though he’d put her on the spot. He decided to change directions. “Wait. We were supposed to be studying psychology, weren’t we?”

She smiled, relaxed a bit. “I don’t think discussing our life stories is going to help me on the exam.”

“I can use big words if it’ll help.”

She laughed and he sat, transfixed. She had a wonderful laugh that lit her face and eased the little worry lines between her brows.

“No?” he said when she just shook her head. He liked that she was easing into his company. “So, what are you majoring in?”

“Human development and English. I want to be a teacher. I have one more semester before I’ll get my B.A. degree. Then another year to get my teaching credential.”

“You can teach without the credentials, though, can’t you?”

“For a while, yes. And I will, but I’ll also keep up my education and go for my master’s degree. That way I could go into counseling.”

“You’d be good at it.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I’ve watched you at Diamond Jim’s. You’ve got a special way of giving the person you’re talking to your complete attention. That’s a good quality for a potential counselor.”

“Thanks.”

“So how come you didn’t just major in education?”

“California doesn’t offer it.”

The waitress brought their coffee and dessert. Vickie picked up her fork and took a bite of cheesecake.

Jace’s mouth watered as he watched her eyes close, watched the pure, unadulterated pleasure wash across her face. “Good?”

Her eyes opened, locked onto his. “Delicious.”

He was sweating. Desire streaked through him and howled for action or release. For the longest time, their eyes held. Then she glanced down as though she had just realized the sizzle and was embarrassed by it.

“Um…” She stopped, cleared her throat. “How about you? Where did you go to school.”

He tasted his own pie, but even though it was excellent, it didn’t compare to the look that had come over Victoria’s face only moments ago. He imagined she’d wear that same expression in the throes of passion. “Virginia Tech.”

“Virginia? Is that where you’re from?”

“Nope. Born and raised right here in San Diego. But I knew I wanted to capitalize on the cellular telephone industry and at the time, Virginia Tech offered the best courses on wireless technology.”

She laid down her fork, gave him her full attention. “How long was it before you started your company?”

“Right out of college. I built Carracell Inc. from the ground up and surrounded myself with a great group of co-workers. That was almost ten years ago, when the cellular business was really starting to boom. Seems I was at the right place at the right time.”

“I imagine you put plenty of hard work into it.”

“Sure. But working at something I love is like taking a vacation every day.”

She sighed. “That’s so neat. Especially that you figured out what you wanted to do and were able to accomplish it while you were young.”

He frowned, realizing she was comparing herself to him. “You’re not exactly old. What are you, twenty-five?”

She laughed. “That’s the nicest compliment I’ve had in a while. I’m thirty-one. And attending college when you’re over thirty can be a humbling, aging experience.”

“Or keep you young at heart.”

“That, too.”

“Can I ask what made you wait to go to college? You seem pretty determined in knowing what you want.”

She shifted against the vinyl seat, scooted her coffee mug back and forth across the crimson tabletop. Then she looked him square in the eye, her chin lifted as though she expected someone to take a jab.

“I ran away from a group home when I was sixteen, which meant dropping out of high school. Since I was on my own, I had to work to support myself. Then I had to get my GED and build up a cushion of funds. I was young and didn’t realize I could work and go to college.”

“It’s a heavy load.”

“But it’ll be worth it.”

He shouldn’t ask about the group home. It was none of his business. But he seemed to have an insatiable need to find out everything about her. And coming from a close, happy family, the idea of not living within that circle of safety was unthinkable.

“This…uh, group home. Was it like a foster family?”

“No.” She twisted the two rings on her middle finger. “I lived in a few of those. Some of them were nice, some of them just okay. The group home was more along the lines of what you’d call an orphanage for kids not yet old enough for emancipation. It was called Helen’s Home. We called it Hell’s Home.”

From the set of her shoulders and the dare in her eyes, it was clear she wouldn’t tolerate pity. And he didn’t intend to give it.

But questions could easily be misconstrued. If he had his way—which he generally did—there would be plenty of time to delve into all the facets of Victoria Meadland.

He also made a mental note to himself to check into this Helen’s Home. If kids were being mistreated there, he had the connections to do something about it. And he would.

“Well, from living in Hell, you’ve definitely evolved into an angel.”

She gave a short laugh. “You’re nuts.”

“About you.”

“Would you stop saying stuff like that?”

“Can’t seem to help it. I take one look at you and the words just tumble out.”

“Did that fancy college also offer a class in smooth lines to use on your dates?”

He reached over and touched her hand, made sure he had her attention. “I don’t give lines, Victoria. You’ll find that my word is my bond. And I don’t use my words, or my promises, lightly.”

Her thumb tentatively touched his finger, then retreated. “What is it you want, Jace?” she asked, her voice so quiet it was a mere puff of breath.

“You.”

She started to shake her head.

“Give me a chance. That’s all I’m asking.”

“I don’t have time for a relationship.”

“You’d be surprised how much time’s available when you schedule it.”

“Between working and school, my schedule’s pretty full.”

“I know. And I don’t intend to stand in your way or keep you from your goals. All I want is some of your time.”

“Jace—”

“You feel it, too, don’t you?”

She took a deep breath, let it out and nodded. There was no coy game-playing. She knew exactly what he was asking.

“Yes. I like you a lot, Jace Carradigne. But you might find out that I’m not what you’re looking for. And in that case, the risk for me is just too great.”




Chapter Two


Vickie had studied until 2:00 a.m., so when her telephone rang at eight-thirty Saturday morning, she wasn’t feeling very civilized.

She reached for the receiver, knocked over the alarm clock she deliberately hadn’t set. “’lo?”

“Did I wake you?”

Adrenaline shot through her, bringing her straight up in the bed. She snatched at the clock, looked at the time, tried like mad to get her brain in gear.

“It’s eight-thirty on Saturday morning, and I’m not exactly what you’d call a lark. What do you think?”

Jace chuckled. “Sorry. I waited as long as I could.”

She settled against the pillows, wondered if she’d remembered to set the automatic brew on the coffee-maker. Sissy, who’d been curled up at the end of the bed, gave a disgusted look at having been disturbed. Vickie leaned forward and scooped the cat into her arms to soothe her.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those disgustingly chipper morning people.”

“Guilty.”

He sounded so happily contrite, she smiled, stroking Sissy’s silky fur. She’d rescued the cat when it had been a mere kitten, incensed that someone could just dump something so beautiful and sweet. Then again, she knew a bit about abandonment. Since she’d always yearned for a sister, she’d named the kitten Sissy. They’d been each other’s stability for three years now.

“What are you wearing right now?”

That caught her off guard, brought her fully awake faster than a pure shot of caffeine straight through an open vein. “None of your business.”

“Let me guess. A little T-shirt and a pair of those comfy shorts.”

She opened her mouth, closed it, then glanced down at her men’s-cut flannel pajamas adorned with little sheep and half moons. “Um, not exactly.”

“Am I close?”

A smart woman would not play this game. Lack of coffee, she told herself, could account for fewer brain cells. “Warm. I’m…comfy.” Her voice softened intimately. “No T-shirt or shorts, though.”

There was a beat of silence. “Oh, man. Don’t tell me you sleep in the buff.”

She grinned, bit her lip. “I wouldn’t dream of telling you such a thing.”

He groaned. “Doesn’t matter. Unfortunately for me, I have a vivid imagination. Now I’ll have to go take a cold shower.”

“You started it. And speaking of which, did you call me at this ungodly hour just to find out what I am, or am not wearing?” She couldn’t believe she was talking to him this way. At one time in her life, this would have been the norm. Flirting had made her feel powerful, especially when a man responded in typical fashion. But she’d changed her ways, put that behind her.

She’d come to realize that the insecure part of her had been starved for affection, and the least bit of positive attention she’d received from the opposite sex had sent her straight into infatuation. An infatuation she’d immaturely mistaken for something deeper.

Thankfully…hopefully she’d wised up. Though her behavior this morning tried to tell a different story.

Still, something about the anonymity of the telephone seemed to bring out the devil-may-care side of her.

“Actually, I called to invite you to breakfast.”

“Is that all you think about? Eating?”

His tone softened, deepened. “No. Not all the time. Lately, I’ve been spending a fair amount of time thinking about that little tattoo on your back.”

She blinked, tried to recall when he might have seen it. It was a tiny bouquet of happy flowers at the small of her back, the one thing left over from her misspent youth that she absolutely loved. Cold weather clothes, though, usually kept it hidden. And she certainly hadn’t peeled up her top for Jace Carradigne.

Clearing her throat, she started to speak, but he cut her off.

“Before you turn me down, breakfast comes with an offer to study. Bring your books and we’ll review together. See? No excuses.”

She glanced through the miniblinds of her apartment window. Outside the day was sunny with only a few high puffy clouds in sight. In the eucalyptus tree, a clever blue jay foraged in the bark for breakfast, bobbing his tail in apparent satisfaction before taking flight.

“I think I’m pretty well prepared for the psych test.”

“Great. Then we’ll eat and go sight-seeing like tourists.”

She couldn’t believe how tempting that sounded. For so long now, her life had consisted of work and school, with little time left for socializing or having fun. Oh, she could have made more time for socializing, but she’d been so focused, so single-minded, as though doing penance.

It suddenly struck her that she was getting tired of atoning. She was on her way toward her goals. Why couldn’t she enjoy the company of an exciting man?

It didn’t have to turn into a sexual thing.

Friendships between opposite sexes were normal and acceptable.

“Actually, I was planning to go bird-watching today,” she said, absently covering Sissy’s ears. Sissy would rather eat a bird than watch it.

“Come again?”

“You heard me.”

“You mean like sit out in the yard and just look?”

“The yard’s good. But I like the park better. Someplace with lots of trees. I was thinking about driving over to Torrey Pines and taking a short hike.”

“To watch the birds,” he repeated.

“It counts for science credits.”

“I see.” He sounded a little deflated, disappointed.

She twisted the phone cord around her finger. Her heart leapt into her throat and pounded. She probably shouldn’t ask, but… “Would, um…do you want to go with me?”

“Sure. I could get into bird-watching.”

He hadn’t even hesitated. She let out a breath, lectured herself not to panic. It wasn’t polite to uninvite. Besides, how much trouble could she get into bird-watching?

“Okay. You can either meet me somewhere or I can stop by and pick you up on my way.”

“I can come for you.”

“Nope. It’s my suggestion. I’ll do the driving.”

“I’ve got to tell you, I’m partial to a woman who likes to take charge.”

“Don’t push your luck, pal.”

He laughed. “Okay. My condo’s over the bridge on Coronado. Got a piece of paper?”

Accidentally dumping Sissy off the bed, she rummaged in the nightstand drawer and came up with a pen and a dog-eared crossword puzzle book. It seemed almost sacrilegious to write down the ritzy address in the margins of a rumpled game magazine, but it was the handiest at the moment.

He gave her several telephone numbers and a gate code, as well as detailed directions that were hardly necessary. She’d taken the ferry across to the lovely seaside suburb of Coronado several times just to soak up the ambiance—to see how the wealthier half of the world lived. So she was familiar with the area.

“See you in about an hour and a half?” she asked.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Hanging up the phone, she glanced down at Sissy, who was staring out of faintly annoyed iridescent blue eyes.

“What? It’s only bird…I mean science studying. There’s no rule that says I can’t invite company.”

Sissy merely licked her silky fur, as though she could see right into Vickie’s soul, feel the giddy butterflies winging in her stomach.

“Just wait until you see him before you take that attitude. Then try to tell me that you could resist.”

WITH THE TOP DOWN on her ten-year-old Chrysler convertible, Vickie drove over the spectacular two-mile bridge that connected Coronado Island to the mainland. Her hair swirled in the breeze and the brisk fall air sneaked beneath her lightweight turtleneck sweater, but she loved the freedom of driving with the top down on a beautiful sunny day.

Against the blue waters of the bay, the Hotel Del Coronado stood like a grand lady with its quirky timber facade of conical towers, cupolas, turrets, balconies and dormer windows. A distant memory flashed—herself as a young girl, watching a classic Marilyn Monroe movie that had been filmed at the hotel.

Caught up in fantasy, as girls on the bud of teenage could, she’d imagined herself right there, strolling through the acres of polished wood and old-fashioned ambiance. She’d have worn diamonds and silk, and been the love of a handsome leading man’s life.

At the time, she’d been living in a foster home in Washington, and California had seemed another world away. Yet, oddly enough, it was this hotel she’d focused on when she and Chet had run away together. They’d ended up only making it as far as Los Angeles. The pull of the hotel, though, the fantasy, had finally gotten her to San Diego…alone and much, much wiser.

She shook away those thoughts, unwilling to dwell on what couldn’t be changed. Definitely unwilling to spoil such a beautiful day.

Navigating the tidily maintained streets, she located Jace’s condo and punched in the gate code. The place was quite impressive, as she’d known it would be. Two stories, built in a Spanish architectural style, it sat right on the beach with a third level observation deck that would no doubt have a clear view to downtown San Diego, Mission Bay and the endless Pacific Ocean beyond.

Bicyclists whizzed down the streets dodging neighbors out for a morning jog and mothers pushing children in strollers. Parked in driveways or open garages were luxury cars and sports cars that cost the earth and made Vickie feel a little self-conscious about parking her dated Chrysler on the same block as them.

Oh, well. The classics were supposed to be an in thing. She got out of the car, breathing in the scent of the sea and fall blooms. Pots of geraniums, mums and fluffy ferns gave the oak and leaded glass entry doors a welcoming aura.

Before she could connect her knuckles with the wood, Jace was opening the door.

“Hi,” he said.

Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth for about three seconds. He wore a white chef’s apron over a pair of jeans and a torso-hugging blue sweater. His dark blond hair was streaked light in places by the sun and sexily mussed—the result of an expensive salon cut rather than lack of a comb.

And his smile…Lord have mercy, it could render a woman speechless. Especially those dimples.

His brows rose. “Do I have spinach in my teeth?”

She snapped out of her trance. “Uh, no. Sorry.”

He laughed. “Come on in.”

“Why are you wearing an apron?” Like a kid gazing at a castle for the very first time, she stared in awe at the high ceilings and chandelier dripping with hundreds of sparkling crystals. A gleaming piano with a mirror-clear ebony surface drew the eye toward the cavernous living room, the wall of glass, the balcony and the sea beyond.

“I invited you to breakfast, remember?”

She finally found her manners and stopped gawking at the house, looking instead at him. “But I thought we changed the plans and decided on the park.”

“Did you already eat?”

“Well, no. But—”

“Then come on in and let me impress you with my skills.”

Now, there was an invitation that ought to make a woman wary.

She followed him across sandstone tiles and up several plush carpeted stairs to a kitchen that also boasted a wall of glass and a clear view of both the city and the sea. At night it would be even more breathtaking.

Acres of granite counters flowed over and around top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances—two of almost everything, she noted. She could probably fit her entire apartment in this one room alone.

“Um, are you trying to impress me?” Good grief, Vickie, stop stammering!

“Actually, yes.”

“Well, at least you’re honest. Can’t say as much for the modesty.”

He waved a spatula at her. “Told you, I’m a take-me-as-I-am kind of guy.”

Yes, and she would love to take him. Because her heart was pumping like mad, she glanced away.

The dining table was set with china and crystal. Orange juice filled goblets and champagne iced in a bucket beside two of the chairs.

Something smelled absolutely wonderful. Arming himself with oven mitts, he bent and removed an egg casserole from the oven. Vickie decided that a man in close-fitting jeans wearing an apron was a dangerous combination for a woman’s heart.

“How in the world did you manage to have this all catered in a little over an hour?”

He took the serving dish to the table, lowered his brows. “If I’d had it catered, do you think I’d be parading around in an apron?”

“Probably. You said you were out to impress me.”

“With my winning skills, woman. I’m a great cook. Mimosa?” he asked, holding the champagne bottle over the goblet of orange juice.

She shook her head. “Not for me. I’m driving.”

“You don’t have to, you know.”

“That was the deal. Besides, I need a clear mind and clear vision to see the birds.”

“Good point.” He put the bottle back on ice and pulled out her chair in a gentlemanly gesture that charmed her. “Breakfast is served.”

She sat and waited while he retrieved a basket of croissants out of a warming oven, and took an icy bowl of fruit out of the fridge.

“Mom and dad, though they were home a lot, had demanding careers,” he said as he put the rest of the meal on the table, shrugged out of his apron, and sat down. “So, I learned to cook. My sister, Kelly, was too wrapped up in her latest invention to be bothered with cooking chores. Besides, I was afraid she’d try some experiment and blow up the kitchen.”

“She sounds fascinating.”

“She’d be stunned to hear herself described as fascinating—although she is. Very much so.” He lifted his juice glass. “Here’s to our second date.”

Vickie had automatically picked up her glass, but hesitated over the toast. “It’s not a date.”

He leaned forward and clinked the edges of the crystal. “Let a guy have his fantasies, will you?”

She chuckled and took a sip of juice. “This really does look fabulous. You didn’t have to cook for me, though.”

“I like to cook. It’s creative and relaxing.”

“That’s a commonality we don’t share.”

“You don’t cook?”

“Sure. I’m an ace with the microwave. If it comes out of the freezer and has instructions on the package, I’m right up there in a class with the Naked Chef.”

“Hmm. I’ve seen that guy’s cooking show on cable and I don’t recall him ever instructing on frozen meals.”

“Maybe I should write in and put it in the suggestion box.”

“Maybe you should just marry me and let me cook for you.”

She choked on a bite of egg and spinach soufflé. Her eyes watering, she gave him a dark look and waited for him to say, “just kidding.” When he didn’t, just sat there and smiled with his lips canted to the left and his dimples winking, she looked away and took a sip of water.

“Has anybody ever accused you of sounding like a broken record?”

“Mmm.” He speared a cube of melon and popped it in his mouth. “Once a competitor got a little nasty at a meeting and said our cell phones sounded like a static-ridden LP album with a scratch etched in the grooves. Does that count?”

She stared at him for a full two seconds. Then she laughed. “Your mother probably spoiled you rotten as a kid, didn’t she?”

“Sure. Doesn’t everyone’s?” The minute he said the words, she could see he wanted to take them back. “Ah, man, Vickie. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault you had parents who kept you.”

“I feel like a jerk.”

“Don’t. I love it when you laugh and clown around. And I’m not sensitive about that area of my life.” Others, perhaps, but she’d come to terms with the abandonment.

“Does it bother you to talk about it?”

She shrugged. “Not much to talk about, really. I never knew who my father was. When I was about five, my mother decided she couldn’t afford me anymore, so she turned me over to the state.”

“When you were five?”

He was so stunned and appalled on her behalf, she wanted to reach across the table and hug him. “Yes. Old enough to remember. That was the unforgivable thing during my growing-up years. She was a drug addict. Had more boyfriends than there were days in the week. Drugs won out over maternal instincts, I guess.”

“Did you ever try to look her up when you were older?”

“Yes. It’s strange how we cling to hope, even when bad things happen to us. I found out that she died two years after she gave me away.”

He reached for her hand. Not in pity. She could tell the difference. His touch was gentle, yet strong. The slight squeeze held compassion, yes, but mainly support.

“You’ve got to be proud of yourself.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve lived your life and made good choices when you could have dwelled on the negative and taken a different turn like so many others do.”

She felt the immediate twinge of shame pour over her, twisted the rings on her finger. “All my choices haven’t been so great.”

“You’re about to get your college degree. You work instead of standing in line for food stamps. You haven’t had the support of family to back you, yet you’ve forged ahead. That’s something to be proud of.”

She wasn’t used to people singing her praises. It pleased her more than she wanted to admit. Unable to find adequate words, she mumbled, “Thanks,” and concentrated on the fabulous breakfast before her.

“COOL CAR,” Jace said as they headed back over the bay toward town. “It suits you.” He loved the way the wind twirled her silky hair.

“I like it.”

He reached over and brushed a strand of hair that kept catching in her mouth. He could see her eyes from the corners of her sunglasses and saw her gaze dart toward him for an instant. She was still a little jumpy around him, as though she didn’t quite trust him. He wanted to change that attitude. In a hurry.

She was a mass of contradictions, and that intrigued him. Wholesome, sexy, shy and sweet, with a hint of steel at her core. She had the glossy lips of a siren, the delicate face of an angel—and a tattoo.

Hell, he was getting hot. And not from the sun beating down on his head.

“So, what do you usually do on weekends? Besides bird-watching, that is.” They were skirting downtown San Diego now. He automatically noted one of Carracell Inc.’s retail stores in a strip mall off to the right. The cell phone business was booming, and this particular location drew a lot of customers.

“Friday and Saturday nights, I work at Diamond Jim’s. During the day, and on Sundays, I try to catch up on chores and studying.”

“Hmm. So, you’re going to school five days and working six nights—”

“Five. I’m off on Sunday and Monday.”

“That’s good to know.”

She glanced over at him. He just smiled.

“Still, doesn’t leave much time for a social life,” he said.

“It hasn’t been a difficult sacrifice. I made the decision when I enrolled at the university, and that’s that.”

“Are you saying you haven’t had a boyfriend since you started school?” He saw her hands tighten on the steering wheel. That little gesture made him curious.

“I started school when I was five. Let’s see, I went steady with Terry Small in the third grade. And then there was a torrid fling with Chad Holkum at the end of fourth year…” She glanced at him. “Did you want the entire list?”

He liked her sass. Even though he detected that it hid deeper emotions. The very pleasantness of her tone told him he was trespassing where she didn’t want him to go.

Since he’d never been one to pay much attention to warning signs, he winked at her. “We can save that for the next date. What I was fishing for, and doing a bad job of it at that, was more along the lines of recent men. Just wondering about my competition.”

“Since there’s not going to be a relationship between us, competition isn’t relevant.”

“Victoria,” he said on a sigh, “you are a difficult woman. But never fear. I’m a patient man. And I love a challenge.”

“I’m not challenging you, Jace.” She pulled into the entrance of Torrey Pines State Reserve Park. Parking in the lot, she shut off the engine and turned to him. “I’m not interested.”

“No?” He held her gaze, brushed a finger against a stray wisp of hair that clung to her cheek. Her eyes belied her words. Hooking his hand around the back of her neck, he drew her forward, slipped off her sunglasses. “Let’s see.”

He’d caught her off guard, but after only the slightest resistance, her lips went pliant beneath his. If she’d fought him, pulled back in earnest, he’d have immediately let her go. But just as her eyes had contradicted, so did her mouth. It was sweet, hungry…and definitely interested.

She tasted like his destiny.

The thought skittered through his head, should have surprised him, made him nervous. The only thing he could truly think about right now, though, was the intoxicating, electrifying tumult of desire that gripped his body like a vice and held him in thrall.

Despite her admitted lack of social life, Victoria Meadland knew how to kiss. She damned near melted his bones and fried his brain.

He wanted more, pulled her tighter against him, angled his head and feasted, surprised to find himself hard-pressed to keep up with her. He’d meant to prove a point to her. He was the one getting the lesson.

A car door slammed and the sound of a child’s voice lifted in glee pierced his impassioned haze.

Jace lingered for another moment, then broke the kiss. Softly. Slowly.

He watched as her lids lifted to reveal dazed, beautiful blue eyes.

“Didn’t feel uninterested to me.”

Coherency flashed in her eyes with the speed of a powerful microprocessor. She scooted away from him, tucked her hair behind her ear, fumbled for the sunglasses he’d removed.

“Sexual chemistry doesn’t make a relationship.”

“No, but it helps.” He noted that her hands were trembling.

“Jace, I told you, I’m not looking for anything more than friendship.”

“But I am.”

Her release of breath held more than frustration. “I think this was a bad idea. Maybe we should just call it a day.” She reached for the ignition key.

He put his hand over hers, stilling her movements. He didn’t know what made Victoria Meadland try to shy away from men—or from him—but he vowed to find out.

“We haven’t even begun the day. I’d ask you if it was me, but after that kiss, it’d be a pretty stupid question.”

She stared out at the tall pines that perfumed the air, then took off her sunglasses and turned to him. In her eyes were secrets and a vulnerability she desperately tried to mask. The combination made his heart sting, made him want to gather her close and promise her the world.

A world where everything was nice and tidy and pretty.

“I’ve made mistakes, Jace. I don’t want to repeat them.”

He put a finger over her lips. “I’m not interested in the past. We all have one, and all of us screw up at one time or another. But we all deserve a second chance as well. Can’t you let yourself have that chance?”

She glanced away, pulling inward to a place he feared he couldn’t reach. “I’m scared,” she admitted softly.

“Hell, so am I. I don’t usually come on so strong to a woman, but you touch something inside me.”

“Jace—”

He stopped her again, this time reaching for her hand. “Let’s put this on hold, okay? We got a little side-tracked and we’re supposed to be bird-watching.”

“You can’t really want to go scouting for birds.”

“I absolutely do. And just think. You can use me for a sounding board, educate me on our residential winged creatures. It’ll be just like answering questions on a test. Difference is, I won’t know if you’re giving the correct answer or not, so either way, you ace the exam.”

Her smile started slowly, then blossomed. “That’s the most ridiculous attempt to get your way that I’ve ever heard. Sounds to me like you’re not going to be of much help as a study aid.”

He grinned, squeezed her hand again just to please himself. “Try me.”




Chapter Three


She took him on the Guy Fleming Trail because it was an easy walk. Although he was in fabulous shape, and his tennis shoes were top quality and would manage most any terrain, she herself enjoyed this loop of the park. It was less traveled by tourists, who usually chose the beach trail.

“It’s peaceful here,” he said, looking up at the huge pines. “I’ve lived in San Diego all my life and never come here.”

“You’re probably into roller-blading or running along the boardwalks or parks by the beach, I bet.”

He grinned. “How’d you guess?”

“It shows.” She gave his body a quick scan to prove her point.

“You’re good for my ego.”

“As if it needs any help,” she said dryly.

“Surely you’re not accusing me of being conceited.”

She thought about that for a moment. Actually, he wasn’t stuck on himself. Just self-assured. “I was teasing—oh, look.” She held out an arm, stopping him. Four quail chicks had ventured out for a drink in the birdbath just ahead of them.

“Little suckers, aren’t they?” Jace said.

“Shh.” Too late. The sound of his voice sent the mama quail out of the bushes where she’d been keeping watch. In seconds she had her babies rounded up and filed back into the cover of the bushes.

Vickie sighed. “There are rules to bird-watching. The first one is to be quiet.”

He looked sheepish. “I knew that.”

For the next few minutes, he walked beside her in silence, but she could feel the intangible vibration coming from him. He was dying to talk.

Unable to stand it any longer, she paused at the North Overlook and brushed her fingers against the prickly needles of a pine. “What?” she demanded.

His blond brows raised.

“You look like you’re about to burst.”

“I’m trying to be quiet.” He reached down and scooped up a handful of pine needles. “I’m usually pretty good at following rules. This one’s difficult.”

“Why? Don’t you enjoy the solitude of nature?”

“Sure. When I’m not with a beautiful woman.”

The compliment shot straight to her head, chipped at her resolve to keep things light.

“We can talk. Most of the birds are in the trees and they’ll pretty much ignore us.” Like the scrub jay busily gathering seeds out of a pine cone a few yards away.

He let out a relieved sigh. “So, don’t you need to be taking notes?”

“I’ve got a good memory. I’m more of a visual person, anyway. Most of the species, I’ve already looked up. I just like to come and see them in person rather than looking at a glossy picture. Besides, I love these old trees, the smell of them, what they represent.”

“Trees are trees.”

She smiled. “You’ve been living in the city jungle for too long. Your appreciation of the finer things in life appears to be lacking.”

“I appreciate fine things. Except, maybe opera. I’m sorry to say, I just can’t get into that. Or the ballet.”

She started them walking along the trail again. “I’ve never personally experienced either one, but I’ve read about them and seen some on television. I think I’d enjoy the ballet more than the opera.”

“Really?” He sounded appalled, yet resigned, as though he’d offer to take her if that’s truly what she wanted.

She tugged his sleeve when he slowed down, and he slid his hand down to link with hers. For a second, she started to resist. They shouldn’t be walking hand in hand like lovers. But the warmth of his big palm felt comforting. Solid. Like the pines that surrounded them.

The trees in this section of the reserve weren’t the rarest or the tallest of the species, but the moment she’d stumbled upon them several years ago, she’d identified with them. Along the sea cliffs, their roots grew in poor soil, they suffered from drought, were blasted by storms and cooked in the sun, yet they survived.

Vickie, too, had endured her share of hard times, but she hadn’t given up. She’d survived.

When she left her hand in his, he gave a squeeze as if to say thanks. Her heart throbbed in her chest and she suddenly couldn’t think of a thing to say. Life didn’t get much better than this.

Here she was walking through one of her favorite places. And here was this man with gilded hair and laughter in his eyes. A strong, capable man who excelled in the business world, yet remained so humanly, genuinely down to earth.

And he was with her.

“You’ve gone quiet,” he commented. “Are you taking mental notes?”

“Yes.” Just not on the birds. “It’s easy to get caught up in the serenity.”

“The beach is pretty serene.”

“Yes, but that’s the trail that most of the tourists take.” They were at the South Overlook now and she nudged him over toward a pretty clearing by the cliffs.

“Man, look at that,” he said. “You can see clear to Catalina Island.”

“That impresses you? You’ve got an excellent view right off your own deck at your condo.”

“Yeah, but the weather’s not always cooperative, and the island stays hidden.” He lifted their joined hands, pointed toward the south. “That’s La Jolla. See that hill over there?”

She leaned in close, smelled the fresh air scent on his clothes, the subtle hint of spice on his skin. She nearly lost her concentration, then followed the direction of their joined hands. “The one with the mansions scattered on top?”

“Well, yeah. But I never considered them mansions. My parents live on that hill.” He dropped their hands back to his side but didn’t let go.

“You grew up there?”

“Mostly. They bought the house about twenty years ago.”

“Must have seemed like paradise to you. Not that your condo isn’t like a slice of Eden.”

Jace glanced down at her, surprised by the whisper of envy, yet genuine appreciation. He’d taken his homes for granted, rarely saw them through anyone’s eyes but his own familiar ones. He kept forgetting that Vickie had grown up in what she’d termed Hell’s Home.

She was so beautiful. Not like a model or movie star all made-up for the public. She was fresh and wholesome. Her skin was smooth and sun-kissed with a sprinkle of pale freckles. Full lips, lake-blue eyes, a no-fuss hairstyle that left it silky and straight, long enough to brush her shoulders. The kind of hair that made a man want to run his hands through it, feel it tickling against his chest, his…

“Uh, why don’t we sit for a minute.”

“Sure.”

He’d meant to take advantage of the bench, but Vickie moved close to the edge of the overlook, bent down to test the dampness of the ground and sat among the packed dirt and pine needles, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. He joined her on the ground, took a moment to listen to the sound of the sea and chatter of birds, missing the feel of her hand in his.

A gull winged overhead, squealing as he soared and kept an eye out for food treasures in the sea or tidbits left on the beach by careless walkers.

“Do seagulls count as bird-watching subjects?”

“Yes,” she said with an indulgent smile.

“Well, then, we’ve got a front row seat to do some serious watching.” He propped an arm on his bent knee and sifted his fingers through the pine needles strewn on the ground.

“I bet you’ve loved living on the ocean all your life.” Her voice was soft and wistful as she gazed out at the sea.

“It’s the best.”

“Do you sail?” she asked.

“Mmm. I’ve got a little catamaran I take out several times a month. And a sixty-foot Michaelson that’s a honey of a sports fisher. It’s great for weekend trips to Catalina Island, too. Have you ever been over there?”

“No.”

“I’ll take you. It’s also cool to cruise the harbor at night, watch the sunset and look at the lights. We should plan that, as well.”

“Whoa. With all these plans, how do you get any work done?”

“I’m one of those nasty larks you mentioned this morning. I get up early, take care of business when the phones aren’t ringing like mad. Plus, I have an incredibly qualified staff to handle the day-to-day running of things. They’re a great group of people, most of them have been with me from the start of the company. If I decided to retire tomorrow, the company would run without me.”

“Could you just let it go like that? I mean, it’s your baby, so to speak. Wouldn’t you miss it?”

“Maybe. I’ve taken it pretty well to the top, and we’ve been lucky enough to stay there. Sometimes I get an itch to try something different, though. Nothing like a new venture to stir the blood. As you probably know with your studies and plans for teaching.”

“My teaching’s certainly not going to make me millions like your cell phone business obviously has done for you.”

“But you’ll be following your bliss.”

She looked over at him, hugged her bent knees tighter. “That’s a neat way of putting it.”

“It’s true. No matter what you choose to do in life, it should be something you love, something you’re passionate about. I’ve heard that passion in your voice when you talk about teaching, seen your dedication to school and studying. I admire that. If I didn’t think you were into it, I’d be trying to steer you in another direction.”

“A meddler, are you?”

He grinned. “Probably. My sister says so. She’s always buried in her science experiments and I’m hounding her to get out and interact with people more. She’s got great qualities but she isolates herself instead. I guess I can get carried away sometimes putting in my two cents worth, but I like to see the people around me, especially the people who matter to me, be the best they can be.”

Vickie rubbed her hands over the ribbed cotton sleeves of her sweater, watched the enthusiasm on his handsome face as he warmed to his subject. His optimism was contagious. And with regard to her, it was thrilling.

He believed she was the best she could be. The implied compliment touched her more deeply than a bucket of diamonds laid at her feet.

She’d been taught she wasn’t good enough. A gesture here, a cutting word there. Growing up, it had been as though she were invisible, of no consequence to anyone. Just a body taking up space and an extra mouth to feed.

Jace touched her cheek, startled her. “Where’d you go all of a sudden?”

She gazed out at the sea, to the hill scattered with luxury homes, one of them his family’s. “When I was fifteen, I skipped school with a friend. Her parents were at work, so we hung out at her house. We listened to music, mooned over boys, nipped into a bottle of wine and sampled a few other brands of liquor behind their wet bar. I found out pretty quick that mixing various types of alcohol has pretty awful consequences.” She paused and watched as a flock of pelicans took flight from the marsh and landed at the ocean’s edge to wade in the waves.

“Tracy’s mom caught us and drove me back to the group home. I just wanted to curl up and die someplace. Although she scolded us for the drinking, she figured heaving up our toenails was punishment enough. She was gentle with me, amused in a way.”

“I’m guessing the folks at Hell’s Home weren’t so amused?”

She smiled at the way he used her disrespectful name for Helen’s Home. “No, Helen wasn’t amused. She said she’d expected as much from me. That I’d come from trash and would be trash for the rest of my life.”

Jace cursed and put his arm around her. “But you didn’t believe her.”

“Oh, yes I did. For a while at least.” She liked the feel of his arm around her but didn’t like the direction of the conversation. She didn’t know why she’d told him that, could still feel the shame, the hurt, the isolation.

“So, anyway,” she said, flicking her hair behind her ear, “I appreciate you saying what you did. About being the best I can.”

He pressed his lips gently against her temple. She could have turned into him, would have welcomed the intimacy, but he simply rested his head against hers, sat quietly and watched the waves break in frothy curls, rushing onto shore and ebbing out again.

WHEN SHE PULLED into the driveway of Jace’s condo later that day, she left the car running so she wouldn’t be tempted to prolong the day. After only spending a short amount of time with him, she couldn’t believe how well they hit it off. He was easy to be with, brought out the best in her.

Jace reached over and shut off the ignition key himself. “How about some dinner before you head off for work?”

She shook her head. “No time. I need to type up a quick paper on my notes about today, then be at the bar by six.”

“Notes? Will I be included in them?”

She couldn’t resist his sexy smile. “I don’t think my science professor would go for that.”

“Hey, I contributed. I pointed out the seagull, didn’t I?”

“And scared off the baby quail.”

“Sorry about that.” He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “I don’t want the day to end.”

“I have to work or I won’t be able to indulge in your favorite subject. Eating. Honestly, I don’t know how you stay in such great shape.”

“Mmm. More compliments on my physique. We’re making progress.”

She laughed. “Get out of my car, Jace Carradigne. You’ll make me late.”

“Kiss me goodbye?”

She shook her head. “I can’t think when you kiss me.”

“I said you kiss me. I promise to let you do all the work.”

“You think that’ll make a difference?”

“Won’t know till we give it a try. In the interest of an experiment, I’m willing to sacrifice myself.”

“Does anyone ever tell you no?”

“Sure. Lots of times.”

His mouth was so close, smiling and inviting. The temptation was bigger than she was. “Okay. Keep your hands in your lap.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Stifling a bubble of laughter, she leaned over and brushed her lips against his. The spark was just as strong as a full-out kiss. What the heck. In for a penny and all that.

She touched the side of his face, watched his eyes deepen to the color of rich moss. This time when she leaned into him, her mouth was firm, direct and mobile. The tickle of laughter turned into a silent moan of intense need.

Although his hands remained in his lap as promised, he kissed her back. And oh, he was good at it.

Lost in the feel of him, she forgot that she was the one supposed to be in control. She raised her other hand to his face, and put everything she had into the kiss, determined to leave him with an impression he wouldn’t soon forget.

She was playing with fire, and it wasn’t fair, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.

Finding that her own bones had turned liquid, she eased up, nibbled, toyed, then slowly slid back to her own side of the car.

He sat totally silent for endless minutes. Then he raked a hand through his hair. “Wow.”

She was having a little trouble with her own breathing, so she just smiled.

“After that, you’ve got to promise to have brunch with me tomorrow.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I might have other plans?”

“Sure. But then you set me straight on several different occasions, remember?”

Her insistence over not having or wanting a social life. “It’s not nice to gloat when you’re right.”

“I grovel as well as I gloat.” He grinned, and the power of those dimples was like a thrilling sock to her solar plexus.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“You’d be doing me a huge favor. It’s Sunday brunch at my parents’ house. Although they’re great people, things like that can be tedious.”

“Your parents’ house! I’m not crashing a family breakfast uninvited. I haven’t even met them.”

“You won’t be crashing, I just invited you, and you’ll meet them tomorrow.”

“You can’t just invite a guest to come home with you.”

“Why not?”

“It might be awkward.”

“My mother would be insulted if she heard that. She prides herself on making company feel welcome. Come on, Vickie. I want to spend time with you. And I’d like you to meet my parents. Say yes.”

Going home to meet his parents seemed to be rushing things, yet she couldn’t believe how much she wanted to do that. To meet the people he’d talked about, see how he’d lived, grown up.

“I don’t know how you keep getting me to change my mind, but, yes.”

He lifted her hand to his lips, kissed her knuckles. Stunned by the gesture, she could barely think.

“I’ll pick you up at ten in the morning, then.”

She nodded, watched him unfold his long, lean body and get out of the car. “Be careful driving home.”

She merely nodded again, started the engine and backed out of the driveway.

He’d kissed her hand. Now how was a woman supposed to concentrate on driving after that?

HE WAS on her doorstep promptly at ten the next morning. With her nerves in a mess, she paused with her hand on the door, wondered if she should invite him in, hoped he wasn’t the sort to roam and snoop. Her bedroom looked like a teenager had gone in there and thrown a major tantrum.

Giving her appearance one last check in the hall mirror, she took a breath to calm her nerves. She hadn’t known what to wear for a meet-the-parents brunch, and had tried on every one of her meager outfits, finally settling on a pair of black slacks, and a knit turtleneck sweater in soft heather. A black leather hip belt matched her chunky calf-high boots. The extra three-inch height the boot soles gave her made her feel a little more confident.

She opened the door, and her nerves skittered all over again. Jace Carradigne was the epitome of the word male.

“Hi.” He held out a slim velvet box. “This is for you.”

“For what?” Sissy inched out from behind the couch, checking out the strange man in her domain.

“Just because.”

Her heart pumped. Slowly, she lifted the hinged lid, then sucked in a breath. The bracelet was simple in design, made of delicate gold links with tiny heart-shaped charms set with brilliant sapphires.”

“Oh, my gosh. It’s beautiful. I don’t know what to say. I can’t…I shouldn’t—”

“If you’re going to tell me you shouldn’t accept it, you’ll hurt my feelings.”

“But it’s too much.” She couldn’t resist running her finger over the cool stones.

“I saw it when I was poking around some shops this morning and thought of you. It matches the rings you wear.”

She automatically fingered the two sapphire rings on her finger. She’d bought them herself. Other than her watch and a couple of pairs of earrings, they were the only jewelry she owned.

Emotions worked in her throat. No one had ever bought her jewelry. And she’d received precious few gifts in her life. The homes she’d lived in growing up hadn’t had funds or the inclination to spend foolishly on kids who were only temporary.

“You shouldn’t be spending this kind of money on me.”

“Vickie, I’ve made a fortune and I’m dying to spend it. You don’t make it easy, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.”

“Well.” She admired the bracelet, wondered why she felt weepy all of a sudden. “You handle matters very well. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Since she still hadn’t invited him in, he stepped over the threshold, took the box from her and lifted the bracelet out. “Here, let me put it on for you.”

She held out her wrist. Chills raced up her arm as his fingers brushed against her skin. She stared at the top of his head as he bent over his task. Everything inside her wanted to fall. For him. It was an old pattern. An old habit.

But maybe this time would be different.

Take it slow, Vickie. Don’t rush.

He looked up at her, smiled softly. “Ready to go?”

The sapphire hearts tinkled merrily as she lowered her hand. Oh, damn it. She was going to cry after all. Tears welled, even though she fought like mad to battle them back.

Rather than making her feel foolish, he simply swept a gentle thumb across her cheek, wiped away the moisture, then pulled her to him and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “That’s the best thank-you I’ve ever received over a gift,” he whispered.

“I feel like an idiot.”

This time he kissed her eyelids, her cheeks. “You’re perfect.”

If he’d pushed even the slightest, she would have closed the door behind him and invited him into her bedroom, never mind the mess. But he didn’t press, didn’t take advantage, never even came close to her lips.

He was a man of honor, integrity, and the best kind of gentleman.

And despite her sternest warnings to herself, she was terribly afraid she was falling in love.




Chapter Four


Linking his hand with hers, Jace led her out the door to his car.

A sporty, obscenely expensive black Porsche.

“Looks to me like you’re doing a good enough job spending,” Vickie said as she slipped into the fragrant leather bucket seat.

He grinned. “I have a passion for speed.”

“Tell me about it,” she muttered to herself as he shut the passenger door and jogged around to the driver’s side. She glanced down at the bracelet on her right wrist. The sun glanced off the brilliant stones, casting speckled prisms across the gray leather dash of the car.

Darn it, she was beginning to feel like a princess. And that wasn’t an ideal she should let herself get used to.

“Buckle up,” he said as he slid into the driver’s seat and started the powerful engine.

She obeyed, glanced at him. “Do you plan to speed?”

“I’ll try to keep the shiny side of the car up.”

“I feel so much more comfortable now.”

He laughed. “Relax and enjoy.”

“Tough to relax when I’m crashing Sunday brunch at your parents’ house.”

“You’re not crashing. I called ahead, and Mom’s tickled to death.” He whipped the car into a tight turn and zipped onto the bridge. “Those were her exact words.”

“I’ve never been home to meet a guy’s parents before.”

“You’re kidding. Didn’t any of your boyfriends have families?”

She shrugged. “Guess not.”

He reached over and linked his hand with hers, pulling it over to rest on the gear shift. “Good. Not that the poor saps didn’t have families,” he said. “I like it that I’m your first.”




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