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Billionaire Bachelors: Stone
Anne Marie Winston
Stone Lachlan never thought marriage - especially one of convenience! - would be this complex.After all, he and Faith Harrell had agreed to marry for purely practical reasons, so there should be no question about the terms of their "relationship."But resisting a young woman as appealing as Faith was like trying to win a war without any weapons. And it seemed the harder they fought not to fall in love, the closer they came to losing the battle….



“I Need A Wife.”
Faith stared at him, apparently sure she hadn’t heard him correctly. He couldn’t blame her. As soon as the words were out, he’d decided he was crazy.
“You need what?”
“A wife.” Stone could hear the impatience in his tone, and he forced himself to take deep, slow breaths. Calming breaths.
She spread her hands in confusion, and her smooth brow wrinkled in bewilderment. “But how can I help you with that? I doubt I know anyone who—”
“Faith.” His deep voice stopped her tumbling words. “I’d like you to be my wife.”
Her eyes widened. Her mouth formed a perfect “O” of surprise. She put a hand up and pointed at herself as if she needed confirmation that she hadn’t lost her mind, and her lips soundlessly formed the word “Me?”
He nodded. “Yes. You.”
Dear Reader,
Celebrate the rites of spring with six new passionate, powerful and provocative love stories from Silhouette Desire!
Reader favorite Anne Marie Winston’s Billionaire Bachelors: Stone, our March MAN OF THE MONTH, is a classic marriage-of-convenience story, in which an overpowering attraction threatens a platonic arrangement. And don’t miss the third title in Desire’s glamorous in-line continuity DYNASTIES: THE CONNELLYS, The Sheikh Takes a Bride by Caroline Cross, as sparks fly between a sexy-as-sin sheikh and a feisty princess.
In Wild About a Texan by Jan Hudson, the heroine falls for a playboy millionaire with a dark secret. Her Lone Star Protector by Peggy Moreland continues the TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB: THE LAST BACHELOR series, as an unlikely love blossoms between a florist and a jaded private eye.
A night of passion produces major complications for a doctor and the social worker now carrying his child in Dr. Destiny, the final title in Kristi Gold’s miniseries MARRYING AN M.D. And an ex-marine who discovers he’s heir to a royal throne must choose between his kingdom and the woman he loves in Kathryn Jensen’s The Secret Prince.
Kick back, relax and treat yourself to all six of these sexy new Desire romances!
Enjoy!


Joan Marlow Golan
Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

Billionaire Bachelors: Stone
Anne Marie Winston



ANNE MARIE WINSTON
RITA Award finalist and bestselling author Anne Marie Winston loves babies she can give back when they cry, animals in all shapes and sizes and just about anything that blooms. When she’s not writing, she’s chauffeuring children to various activities, trying not to eat chocolate or reading anything she can find. She will dance at the slightest provocation and weeds her gardens when she can’t see the sun for the weeds anymore. You can learn more about Anne Marie’s novels by visiting her Web site at www.annemariewinston.com.
To all the nurses at the Waynesboro Hospital who have shared my midnight vigils. My thanks do not begin to express my appreciation for your kindnesses.

Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine

Prologue
“Smythe Corp. will be yours…on one condition.” Eliza Smythe’s eyes narrowed as she studied her only son.
Stone Lachlan stood with one arm negligently braced on the mantel above the marble fireplace in his mother’s Park Avenue apartment in New York City. Not even the flicker of an eyelash betrayed any emotion. He wasn’t about to let his mother know what her offer meant to him. Not until it was his and she couldn’t take it away.
“And what might that condition be?” He lifted the crystal highball glass to his lips and drank, keeping the movement slow and lazy. Disinterested.
“You get married—”
“Married!” Stone nearly choked on the fine Scotch malt whiskey.
“And settle down,” his mother added. “I want grandchildren one of these days while I’m still young enough to enjoy them.”
He set his glass on a nearby marble-topped table with a snap. It took him a moment to push away the hurtful memories of a small boy whose mother had been too busy to bother with him. His mouth twisted cynically. “If you plan to devote yourself to grandchildren as totally as you did me, why are you planning to retire? It doesn’t take much time to give a nanny instructions once a week or so.”
His mother flinched. “If it’s any consolation to you, I regret the way you were raised,” she said, and he could hear pain in her voice. “If I had it to do over…”
“If you had it to do over, you’d do exactly the same thing,” Stone interrupted her. The last thing he needed was to have his mother pretending she cared. “You’d immerse yourself in your family’s company until you’d dragged it back from the brink of bankruptcy. And you’d keep on running it because you were the only one left.”
His mother bowed her head, acknowledging the truth of his words. “Perhaps.” Then she squared her shoulders and he could see her shaking off the moment of emotion. Just as she’d shaken him off so many times. “So what’s your decision? Do you accept my offer?”
“I’m thinking,” he said coolly. “You drive a hard bargain. Why the wife?”
“It’s time for you to think about heirs,” his mother said. “You’re nearly thirty years old. You’ll have responsibilities to both Smythe Corp. and Lachlan International and you should have children to follow in your footsteps.”
God, he wished she was kidding but he doubted his mother had ever seen the point of a joke in her entire life. A wife…? He didn’t want to get married. Hadn’t ever really been tempted, even. A shrink would have a field day with that sentiment, would probably pronounce him scarred by his childhood. But the truth, as Stone saw it, was simply that he didn’t want to have to answer to anyone other than himself.
Where in hell was he going to get a wife, anyway? Oh, finding a woman to marry him would be easy. There were dozens of fresh young debutantes around looking for Mr. Rich and Right. The problem would be finding one he could stand for more than five minutes, one that wouldn’t attempt to take him to the cleaners when the marriage ended. When the marriage ended…that was it! He’d make a temporary marriage, pay some willing woman a lump sum for the job of acting as his wife for a few weeks.
“Draw up the papers, Mother.” His voice was clipped. “I’ll find a wife.”
“Which is why it’s conditional.”
That got his attention. “Conditional? What—you want final approval?” Another thought occurred to him. “Or you’re giving me some time limit by which I have to tie the knot?”
Eliza shook her head. “The last thing I want you to do is rush into marriage. I’d rather you wait until you find the right woman. But at least now I know you’ll be thinking about it. The condition is that once you marry, the marriage has to last for one year—with both of you living under the same roof—before the company becomes yours.”
One year… His agile mind immediately saw the fine print. He would find a bride, all right. And the minute the ink was dry on the contract with his mother, there would be a quiet annulment. A twinge of guilt pricked at his conscience but he shrugged it off. He didn’t owe his mother anything. And it would serve her right for thinking she could manipulate his life this way.
He smiled, trying to mask his newfound satisfaction. “All right, Mother. You’ve got a deal. I find a bride, you give me your dearest possession.”
Eliza stood, her motions jerky. “I know I haven’t been much of a mother to you, Stone, but I do care. That’s why I want you to start looking for a wife. Being single might seem appealing for a while, but it gets awfully lonely.”
He shrugged negligently, letting the words hit him and bounce off. No way was he going to let her start tugging at his heartstrings after all this time. She was the one who had chosen to leave. “Whatever.”
Eliza started for the door. “At least give it some thought.” She sighed. “I never thought I’d say it, but I’m actually looking forward to having some free time.”
“I never thought you’d say it, either.” And he hadn’t. His mother lived and breathed the company that had come to her on her father’s death when she was barely twenty-five. She’d loved it far more than she had Stone or his father, as his dad had pointed out.
Smythe Corp. He’d resigned himself to waiting for years to inherit his mother’s corporation. But he’d never stopped dreaming. Now he would be able to implement the plans he’d considered for years. He’d merge Smythe Corp. with Lachlan Enterprises, the company that had been his father’s until his death eight years ago.
As his mother took her leave, he moved into his office, still thinking about finding the right woman to agree to what sounded like an insane idea. A temporary wife. Why not? Marriage, as far as he could tell, was a temporary institution anyway. One he had never planned to enter. But if marriage was what it took, then marriage was what his mother would get.
While he turned the problem over in his head, he thumbed through the day’s mail. His hand slowed as he came to a plain brown envelope. In the envelope was the report he received quarterly, giving him updates on his ward, Faith Harrell.
Faith. She’d been a gawky twelve-year-old the first time he’d seen her. He’d been fresh out of college, and they both were reeling from the death of their two fathers in a boating accident a month earlier. He’d been absolutely stunned, he recalled, when Faith’s mother had begged him to become her guardian.
A guardian…him? It sounded like something out of the last century. But he hadn’t been able to refuse. Mrs. Harrell had multiple sclerosis. She feared the disease’s advance. And worse, she’d been a quietly well-to-do socialite for her entire married life, pursuing genteel volunteer work and keeping her home a charming, comfortable refuge for her husband. She knew nothing of finances and the world of business. They’d been married for a long, long time before they’d had Faith and their world had revolved around her. His father would have wanted him to make sure Randall Harrell’s family was taken care of.
And so Faith became his ward. He’d taken care of her, and of her mother, in a far more tangible way when he’d discovered the dismal state of Randall’s investments. The man had been on the brink of ruin. Faith and her mother were practically penniless. And so Stone had quietly directed all their bills to him throughout the following years. He’d seen no reason to distress the fragile widow with her situation, and even less to burden a young girl with it. It was what his father would have done, and it certainly wasn’t as if it imposed a financial strain on his own immense resources.
Faith. Her name conjured up an image of a slender schoolgirl in a neat uniform though he knew she hadn’t worn uniforms since leaving her boarding school. It had been more than a year since he’d seen her. She’d become a lovely young thing as she’d grown up and she probably was even prettier now. She would be finishing her junior year at college in a few months. And though he hadn’t seen her in person recently, he looked forward to reading the update on her from the lawyer who had overseen the monetary disbursements to Faith and her mother.
He slit the envelope absently as he returned to the problem of where to find a temporary wife.
Five minutes later, he was rubbing the back of his neck in frustration as he spoke to the man who provided the updates on Faith Harrell. “What do you mean, she withdrew from school two weeks ago?”

One
A huge, hard hand clamped firmly about her wrist as Faith Harrell turned from the Carolina Herrerra display she was creating in the women’s department of Saks Fifth Avenue.
“What in hell are you doing?” a deep, masculine voice growled.
Startled, Faith looked up. A long way up, into the furious face of Stone Lachlan. Her heart leaped, then began to tap-dance in her chest as pleasure rose so swiftly it nearly choked her. She hadn’t seen Stone since he’d taken her out for lunch one day last year—he was the last person she had imagined meeting today! Her pulse had begun to race at the sound of his growling tones and she hoped he didn’t feel it beneath his strong fingers.
“Hello,” she said, smiling. “It’s nice to see you, too.”
He merely stared at her, one dark eyebrow rising. “I’m waiting for an explanation.”
Stone was nearly ten years her senior. His father and hers had been best friends and she’d grown up visiting with Stone and his father occasionally, chasing the big boy who gave her piggyback rides and helped her dance by letting her stand on his feet. He’d been merely a pleasant, distant-relation sort of person until their fathers had died together in a squall off Martha’s Vineyard eight years ago. Since then, Stone had been her guardian, making sure her mother’s multiple sclerosis wasn’t worsened by any sort of stress. Technically she supposed she still was his ward, despite the fact that she’d be twenty-one in November, just eight months away. And despite the additional fact that she was penniless and didn’t need a guardian anyway.
Stone. Her stomach fluttered with nervous delight and she silently admonished herself to settle down and behave like an adult. She’d been terribly infatuated with him by the time she was a young teenager.
He’d teased her, told her jokes and tossed her in the air. And she’d been smitten with the fierce pain of unrequited love. Though she’d told herself it was just a crush and she’d outgrown him, her body’s involuntary reactions to his nearness now called her a liar. Ridiculous, she told herself sternly. You haven’t seen the man in months. You barely know him.
But Stone had kept tabs on her since their fathers’ deaths, though his busy schedule apparently hadn’t permitted him to visit often. He’d remembered her at Christmas and on her birthday, and she’d occasionally gotten postcards from wherever he happened to be in the world, quick pleasantries scrawled in a strong masculine hand. It hadn’t been much, she supposed, but to a young girl at a quiet boarding school, it had been enough.
And she knew from comments he’d made in his infrequent letters that he had checked on her progress at boarding school and at college, which she’d attended for two and a half years.
Until she’d learned the truth.
The truth. Her pleasure in his appearance faded.
“I work here,” she said quietly, gathering her dignity around her. She should be furious with Stone for what he’d done, but she couldn’t stop herself from drinking in the sight of his large, dark-haired form, so enormous and out of place among the delicate, feminine clothing displays.
“You quit school,” he said, his strong, tanned features dark with displeasure.
“I temporarily stopped taking classes,” she corrected. “I hope to return part-time eventually.” Then she remembered her shock and humiliation on the day she’d learned that Stone had paid for her education and every other single thing in her life since her father’s death. “And in any case, I couldn’t have stayed. I needed a job.”
Stone went still, his fingers relaxing on her wrist although he didn’t release her, and she sensed his sudden wariness. “Why do you say that?”
She shook the index finger of her free hand at him. “You know very well why, so don’t pretend innocence.” She surveyed him for a moment, unable to prevent the wry smile that tugged at her lips. “You’d never pull it off.”
He didn’t smile back. “Have lunch with me. I want to talk to you.”
She thought for a moment. “About what?”
“Things,” he said repressively. His blue eyes were dark and stormy and he took a moment to look at their surroundings. “You can’t keep this up.”
She smiled at his ill temper. “Of course I can. I’m not a millionaire, it helps to pay the rent.” Then she remembered the money. “Actually, I want to talk to you, too.”
“Good. Let’s go.” Stone started to tow her toward the escalator, but Faith stiffened her legs and resisted.
“Stone! I’m working. I can’t just leave.” She waved a hand toward the rear of the department. “Let me check with my supervisor and see what time I can take my lunch break.”
He still held her wrist and she wondered if he could feel her pulse scramble beneath his fingers. He searched her face for a long moment before he nodded once, short and sharp. “All right. Hurry.”
Faith turned and walked to the back of the store at a ladylike pace. She refused to let Stone see how much his presence unsettled her. Memories ran through her head in a steady stream.
When he’d come to visit a few months after the funeral to help her mother tell her what they had decided, he’d been grieving, but even set in unsmiling severe lines, his face had been handsome. She’d been drawn even more than ever to his steady strength and charismatic presence. He talked about the friendship their fathers had shared since their days as fraternity brothers in college but she’d known even before he started to talk that he’d feel responsible for her. He was just that kind of man.
He intended to continue to send her to a nearby private school in Massachusetts, he told her, and to make sure that her mother’s care was uninterrupted and her days free of worry. And though she hadn’t known it at the time, Stone had taken over the burden of those debts. At the time of his death, her father had been nearly insolvent.
“Faith!” One of the other saleswomen whispered at her as she rushed by. “Who is that gorgeous, gorgeous man standing over there? I saw you talking to him.”
Faith threaded her way through the salespeople gathering in the aisle. “A family friend,” she replied. Then she saw Doro, her manager. “What time will I have my break today?”
Doro’s eyes were alive with the same avid curiosity dancing in the other womens’ faces. “Does he want you to have lunch with him?”
Wordlessly Faith nodded.
“That’s Stone Lachlan!” One of the other clerks rushed up, dramatically patting her chest. “Of the steel fortune Lachlans. And his mother is the CEO of Smythe Corp. Do you know how much he’s worth?”
“Who cares?” asked another. “He could be penniless and I’d still follow him anywhere. What a total babe!”
“Sh-h-h.” Doro hustled the others back to work. Then she turned back to Faith. “Go right now!” The manager all but took her by the shoulders and shoved her back in Stone’s direction.
Faith was amused, but she understood Stone’s potent appeal. Even if he hadn’t been so good-looking, he exuded an aura of power that drew women irresistibly.
Quietly she gathered her purse and her long black wool coat, still a necessity in New York City in March. Then she walked back to the front of the women’s department where Stone waited. He put a hand beneath her elbow as he escorted her from the store and she shivered at the touch of his hard, warm fingers on the tender bare flesh of her neck as he helped her into her coat and gently drew her hair from beneath the collar.
He had a taxi waiting at the curb and after he’d handed her into the car, he took a seat at her side. “The Rainbow Room,” he said to the driver.
Faith sat quietly, absorbing as much of the moment as she could. This could very well be the last time she ever shared a meal with him. Indeed, this could be the last time she ever saw him, she realized. He had taken her out to eat from time to time when she was younger and he’d come to visit her at school. She’d never known when he was going to show up and whisk her off for the afternoon—Lord, she’d lived for those visits. But she and Stone lived in different worlds now and it was unlikely their paths would cross.
At the restaurant, they were seated immediately. She sat quietly until Stone had ordered their meals. Then he squared his big shoulders, spearing her with an intense look. “You can’t work as a shop girl.”
“Why not? Millions of women do and it hasn’t seemed to harm them.” Faith toyed with her water glass, meeting his gaze. “Besides, I don’t have a choice. You know as well as I do that I have no money.”
He had the grace to look away. “You’d have been taken care of,” he said gruffly.
“I know, and I appreciate that.” She folded her hands in her lap. “But I can’t accept your charity. I’d like to know how much I owe you for everything you did in the past eight years—”
“I didn’t ask you to pay me back.” He leaned forward and she actually found herself shrinking back from the fierce scowl on his face.
“Nonetheless,” she said as firmly as she could manage, given the way her stomach was quivering, “I intend to. It will take me some time, but if we draw up a schedule—”
“No.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said no, you may not pay me back.” His voice rose. “Dammit, Faith, your father would have done the same if I’d been in your shoes. I promised your mother I’d take care of you. She trusts me. Besides, it’s an honor thing. I’m only doing what I know my father would have done.”
“Ah, but your father didn’t make risky investments that destroyed his fortune,” she said, unable to prevent a hot wash of humiliation from warming her cheeks.
“He could have.” Stone’s chin jutted forward in a movement she recognized from the time he’d descended on the school to talk to her math teacher about giving her a failing grade on a test she’d been unable to take because she’d had pneumonia. “Besides,” he said, “it’s not as if it’s made a big dent in my pocketbook. Last time I checked, there were a few million left.”
She shook her head. “I still don’t feel right about taking your money. Do you have any idea how I felt when I learned that you’d been paying my way for years?”
“How did you find out, anyway?” He ignored her question.
“In February I went to the bank to talk about my father’s investments—I thought it would be good for me to start getting a handle on them since you’d no longer be responsible for me after my twenty-first birthday, which is coming up later this year. I assumed I’d take on responsibility for my mother’s finances then, as well. That’s when I learned that every item in my family’s budget for eight years had been paid for by you.” Despite her vow to remain calm, tears welled in her eyes. “I was appalled. Someone should have told me.”
“And what good would that have done, other than to distress you needlessly?”
“I could have gotten a job right out of high school, begun to support myself.”
“Faith,” he said with ill-concealed impatience. “You were not quite thirteen years old when your father died. Do you really think I would have left you and your mother to struggle alone?”
“It wasn’t your decision to make,” she insisted with stubborn pride, swallowing the tears.
“It was,” he said in a tone that brooked no opposition. “It is. Your mother appointed me your guardian. Besides, if you finish your education you’ll be able to get a heck of a lot better job than working as a salesclerk at Saks.”
“Does my mother know the truth?”
Stone shook his head. “She believes I oversee your investments and take care of the bills out of the income. Her doctors tell me stress is bad for MS patients. Why distress her needlessly?”
It made sense. And in an objective way, she admired his compassion. But it still horrified her to think of the money he’d spent.
The waiter returned then with their meal and the conversation paused until he’d set their entrées before them. They both were quiet for the next few moments.
Stone ate with deep concentration, his dark brows drawn together, obviously preoccupied with something.
She hated to be keeping him from something important but when she said as much, he replied, “You were the only thing on my agenda for today.”
Really, there wasn’t anything she could say in response to that, she thought, suppressing a smile. “Since that’s the case,” she finally said, “I’d really like to have an accounting of how much I owe you—”
“Do not ask me that one more time.” Stone’s deep voice vibrated with suppressed anger.
She gave up. If Stone wouldn’t tell her, she could figure out a rough estimate, at least, by combining tuition fees with a living allowance. And she should be able to get a record of her mother’s fees from her doctor. “I have to get back to work soon,” she said in the coolest, most polite manner she could muster.
Stone’s head came up; he eyed her expression. “Hell,” he said. “You’re already mad at me; I might as well get it all over with at once.”
“I’d prefer that you don’t swear in my presence.” She lifted her chin. Then his words penetrated. “What do you mean?”
“You’re not going back to work.”
“Excuse me?” Her voice was frosty.
He hesitated. “I phrased that badly. I want you to quit work.”
She stared at him. “Are you crazy? And live on what?”
He scowled. “I told you I’d take care of you.”
“I can take care of myself. I won’t always be a salesclerk. I’m taking night classes starting in the summer,” she said. Despite her efforts to remain calm, her voice began to rise. “It’s going to take longer this way but I’ll finish.”
“What are you studying?” His sudden capitulation wasn’t expected.
She eyed him with suspicion. “Business administration and computer programming. I’d like to start my own business in Web design one of these days.”
His eyebrows rose. “Ambitious.”
“And necessary,” she said. “Mama’s getting worse. She’s going to need ’round-the-clock care one of these days. I need to be able to provide the means for her to have it.”
“You know I’ll always take care of your mother.”
“That’s not the point!” She wanted to bang her head—or his—against the table in frustration.
“My father would have expected me to take care of you. That’s the point.” He calmly sat back against the banquette, unfazed by her aggravation, an elegant giant with the classic features of a Greek god, and she was struck again by how handsome he was. When they’d entered The Rainbow Room, she’d been aware of the ripple of feminine interest that his presence had attracted. She’d been ridiculously glad that she was wearing her black Donna Karan today. It might be a few years old but it was a gorgeous garment and she felt more confident simply slipping it on. Then she remembered that his money had paid for the dress, and her pleasure in her appearance drained away.
“I’m sure your father would be pleased that you’ve done your duty,” she said with a note of asperity. “But we will not continue to accept your charity.”
He grimaced. “Bullhead.”
“Look who’s talking.” But she couldn’t resist the gleam in his eye and she smiled back at him despite the gnawing feeling of humiliation that had been lodged in her belly since the day she’d found out she was essentially a pauper. “Now take me back to work. My lunch hour is almost over.”
He heaved an impatient sigh. “This is against my better judgment.”
She leaned forward, making her best effort to look intimidating. “Just think about how miserable I will make your life if you don’t. I’m sure your judgment will improve quickly.”
He shot her a quirky grin. “I’m shaking in my boots.”

He didn’t want to notice her.
She had been an unofficial little sister during his youth, and his responsibility since her father had died. She was ten years younger than he was. He was her guardian, for God’s sake!
But as he handed her back into the car after their meal, his eye was caught by the slim length of her leg in the elegant high heels as she stepped in, by the way her simple dress hugged the taut curve of her thigh as she slid across the seat, by the soft press of pert young breasts against the fabric of the black coat as she reached for her seat belt.
He’d seen her standing in the store long before she had noticed him, her slender figure strikingly displayed in a black dress that, although it was perfectly discreet, clung to her in a way that made a man want to strip it off and slide his hands over the smooth curves beneath. Made him want to touch, to pull the pins out of her shining coil of pale hair and watch it slither down over her shoulders and breasts, to set his mouth to the pulse that beat just beneath the delicate skin along her white throat and taste—
Enough! She’s not for you.
Grimly he dragged his mind back from the direction in which it wanted to stray.
He hated the idea of her wearing herself out hustling in retail for eight hours a day, and he figured he’d give it one more try. The only woman he’d ever known who really enjoyed working was his mother. Faith shouldn’t be working herself into exhaustion. She should be gracing someone’s home, casting her gentle influence around a man, making his life an easier place to be. He knew it was an archaic attitude and that most modern women would hit him over the head for voicing such a thought. But he’d lived a childhood without two parents because his own mother had put business before family. He knew, despite all the Superwoman claims of the feminist movement, that a woman couldn’t do it all.
Diplomatically he only said, “Why don’t you go back to school for the rest of the semester? Then this summer we can talk about you finding a job.”
Her eyes grew dark and her delicate brows snapped together. “You will not give me money. More money,” she amended. “I’m not quitting work. I need the money. Besides, it’s too late in the semester to reenroll. I’ve missed too much.”
He looked across the car at her, seated decorously with her slender feet placed side by side, her hands folded in her lap and her back straight as a ramrod. Her hair was so fair it nearly had a silver sheen to it where the winter sun struck it, and her eyes were a pure lake-gray above the straight little nose. She had one of the most classically lovely faces he’d ever seen, and she looked far too fragile to be working so hard. The only thing that marred the picture of the perfect lady was the frown she was aiming his way. The contrast was adorable and he caught himself before he blurted out how beautiful she was in a snit.
Then he realized that beautiful or not, she was as intransigent as a mule who thought she was carrying too heavy a load. “All right,” he said. “You can keep doing whatever you want. Within reason.”
“Your definition of reason and mine could be quite different.” Her tone was wry and her frown had relaxed. “Besides, in eight more months, you won’t have any authority to tell me what to do. Why don’t you start practicing now?”
He took a deep breath, refusing to snarl. He nearly told her that no matter how old she got she’d always be his responsibility, but the last thing he needed was for her to get her back up even more. Then he recalled the image of her stricken face, great gray eyes swimming with the tears she refused to give in to as she told him how she’d found out about her financial affairs, and he gentled his response to a more reasonable request. “Would you at least consider a different kind of job? Something that isn’t so demanding?”
She was giving him another distinctly suspicious look. “Maybe. But I won’t quit today.”
He exhaled, a deep, exaggeratedly patient sigh. “Of course not.”
When the taxi rolled to a stop in front of Saks, he took her elbow as she turned toward the door. “Wait,” he said before she could scramble out.
She turned back and looked at him, her gray eyes questioning.
“Have dinner with me tonight.”
Could her eyes get any wider? “Dinner?”
He knew how she felt. He hadn’t planned to ask her; the words had slipped out before he’d thought about them. Good Lord. “Um, yes,” he said, wondering if thirty was too early for the onset of senility. “I’ll pick you up. What’s your address?”

She lived on the upper West Side, in a small apartment that would have been adequate for two. But he knew from the talk they had shared over lunch that she had at least two roommates from the names she’d mentioned.
“How many people do you live with?” he asked dubiously, looking around as she unlocked the door and ushered him in.
“Three other girls,” she answered. “Two to each bedroom. Two of us work days and two work nights so it’s rare that we’re all here at the same time.”
Just then, a door opened and a girl in a black leotard and denim overalls came down the hall. Stone examined her with disbelief. She was a redhead, at least mostly. There was a blue streak boldly marching through the red near the left front side of her curly hair. She had a wide, friendly smile and green eyes that were sparkling with interest.
“Well, hey,” she said. “Like, I hate to tell you, handsome, but you so do not fit in here.”
He couldn’t keep himself from returning the grin. “My Rolex gave me away?”
“Gretchen, this is Stone Lachlan,” Faith said. “Stone, one of my roommates, Gretchen Vandreau.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Gretchen dropped a mock-curtsy, still beaming.
“You also, Miss Vandreau.” He grinned again as her eyes widened.
“Are you—oh, wow, you are! The Lachlans.” Her eyebrows shot up as she eyed Faith. “Where did you find him?”
“Actually I found her,” Stone said. “Faith and I are old friends.” He turned to Faith. “Are you ready?”
“Ready? Like, to go out?” Gretchen looked from one to the other with delight. “You go, girlfriend.”
“It’s not like that,” she said to Gretchen.
“Depends on what that is,” Stone inserted.
Faith turned and glared at him. “Stone—”
“Better hurry, I have reservations for eight.” He felt an odd sense of panic as he gauged the mulish expression on her face. Was she having second thoughts? Was she going to back out? He had to battle the urge to simply pick her up and carry her back down to the car.
She retrieved a black cape from the small coat closet with her friend chattering along behind her. He stepped in to help her on with the garment, and they went out the door to the sound of Gretchen’s enthusiastic, “Have a blast!”
He took her elbow and urged her into the elevator, conscious of a ridiculous sense of relief sweeping through him as they exited the cramped apartment. It was only that he felt it was his duty to take care of her, he assured himself. Faith didn’t belong in a crowded apartment or behind a counter in a department store. Her family had intended that she be gently raised, probably with the idea that she’d marry a polite young man of the upper class one day and raise polite, well-mannered upper-class children. After all, she’d been sent to the best private schools, had learned the sometimes ridiculous rules that accompanied moving in society.
He wished the idea didn’t fill him with such a sense of…unease. That was all it was. He wanted the best for her and it would be up to him to be sure any suitors were suitable.
He surveyed her covertly as they stood in the elevator, waiting for the ground floor. Her blond hair was smoothly swept back into a shining knot at the back of her head and the harsh lighting in the elevator made it gleam with silvery highlights. She was chewing on her bottom lip; he reached out and touched it with his index finger to get her to stop. Alarm bells went off in his head as a strange jolt of electric awareness shot through his body.
He stared down at her. She had her gaze fixed on the floor and he had to restrain himself from reaching for her chin and covering her lips with his own. What would she taste like?
Then he realized what he was thinking…totally inappropriate thought to be having about a girl who was like his little sister. Again.
Little sister? Since when do you wonder how your little sister’s curves would feel pressed up against you?
He almost growled aloud to banish his unruly thoughts and Faith’s gray eyes flashed to his face with a wary look he thought was probably normally aimed at large predators.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“No.” Then she shook her head. “That’s not true. Why are you doing this?”
He gazed calmly back at her. “Dinner, you mean?”
She nodded.
“I’m your guardian. It struck me today that I haven’t done a very good job of it, either, so I thought we’d spend a little more time together. You can tell me more about your plans.”
She nodded again, as if his explanation made sense.
The ride to the small, quiet Italian restaurant where he’d made reservations was a short one. As the maître d’ showed them to their table, Faith caught his eye. As the man walked away, she whispered, “If this isn’t a Mafia haven, I don’t know what is!”
He chuckled, surprised she’d picked up on it. He’d been coming here for years—the food was reputed to be some of the best Northern Italian cuisine in the city. But the waiters, the bartender, certainly the man who appeared to be the owner greeting guests, had an air of authority, underlaid with an indefinable air of menace. “It’s probably the safest place to be in Manhattan,” he said.
Over dinner, he asked her questions about her interest in computers.
“I had a knack for it,” she told him, “and I started helping out in the computer lab at school. It got so that the instructors were coming to me with questions about how to do things, and how to fix things they’d messed up. That led me into programming and eventually I set up the school’s Web site. And once I did that, other people began to ask me to design their sites. It occurred to me that I could make a living doing something I really enjoy, so I decided on a double major in computers and business.”
“You’re planning to open your own company when you get your degree?”
She nodded, and her eyes shone with enthusiasm. “Eventually. I think I’d like the challenge. But I’ll probably start at an established firm.” She paused and her gaze grew speculative. “You had to take over Lachlan after your father passed away, and you’ve clearly been successful at it. You can give me some pointers.”
He shrugged. Discussing business with Faith was hardly at the top of his list of things he wanted to do. “I’m sure you’ll have no trouble.”
Their dinners arrived and while they ate, he inquired about her mother’s health.
“She isn’t able to get around without using a motorized scooter now,” she said, her face sobering. “She’s sixty, and the disease has started to accelerate. Recently she’s been having a lot of trouble with her vision. Some days are better than others. But it’s only a matter of time before she needs live-in assistance or she has to go to some kind of assisted care facility. She wasn’t happy that I’m working, either, but we’re going to be facing some serious expenses one of these days.” He could hear the frustration in her voice.
“She’s only thinking of you,” he said. “She wants you to have the freedom and enjoy normal experiences for a young woman your age.”
Moments later, Faith excused herself from the table and made her way to the ladies’ room. As he watched her walk across the room, he was struck again by her elegance and poise. Every man in the room watched her and he caught himself frowning at a few of them in warning.
That was ridiculous. He wasn’t her keeper.
Well, in fact he supposed he was. But this wasn’t the Dark Ages and she didn’t need his permission to accept a suitor. Or a husband, for that matter.
He didn’t like that thought. Not at all. Faith was still very young, and she fairly screamed, “Innocent.” She could easily be taken advantage of now that she wasn’t in the somewhat protected environment of an all-girls’ college. She was still his ward, though in her mind, at least, it was a mere technicality. In his, it was altogether different. He was supposed to take care of her. And he’d never forgive himself if she came to harm, even if it was only getting her heart broken by some cad. It frustrated the hell out of him that he wasn’t going to be able to keep her safe.
Then the perfect solution to his frustration popped into his head. He could marry her!
Marry her? Was he insane? They were ten years apart in age, far more than that in experience. But, he decided, the kind of experience he was thinking of could play no part in a marriage with Faith. It would be strictly a platonic arrangement, he assured himself. Simply an arrangement that would help him achieve a goal and protect her at the same time. If she was married, Faith wouldn’t be a target for trouble. In another year or so she’d be more worldly, and the best part was that he would be able to keep her safe during that time.
He was going to have to marry to satisfy his mother’s conditions anyway. And if they married soon, as soon as possible, then he’d be only a year away from achieving the goal of which he’d dreamed for years. He would be able to merge Smythe Corp. and Lachlan Industries into one bigger and better entity.
Then he forgot about business as Faith appeared again. She walked toward him as if he’d called to her, and as she drew closer he could see her smiling at him. He smiled back, knowing that the other men in the place had to be envying him. Long and lean, she had a smooth, easy walk with a regal carriage that ensured instant attention when paired with that angelic face. He doubted she even realized it.
As she passed one of the waiters, the man flashed a white smile at her. She gave him a warm smile in return, and she had no idea that he’d turned to watch her back view as she continued on through the restaurant to their table.
And that was exactly why she needed his protection, Stone thought grimly. He stood as she arrived and walked around to settle her in her chair. She glanced up at him over her shoulder with the same sweet smile she’d just given the waiter, and he felt his gut clench in response. She was far too potent for her own good.
“So,” he said, picking up his water and taking a healthy gulp, “while you were gone I was doing some thinking, and I have a proposition for you.”
“A proposition?” Her eyes lit with interest. “Are we talking about a job here?”
“In a sense.” He hesitated, then plunged ahead. “Are you serious about paying me back?”
“Yes,” she said immediately.
God, he hadn’t been this nervous since the first day he’d stood in front of the assembled employees of his father’s company for the first time. “I could use your help with something,” he said slowly.
Faith’s gaze searched his expression, clearly looking for clues. “You need my help?”
He nodded. Then he took a deep breath and leaned forward. “I need a wife.”
She stared at him, apparently sure she hadn’t heard him correctly. He couldn’t blame her. As soon as the words were out, he’d decided he was crazy. “You need what?”
“A wife.” He could hear the embarrassment and impatience in his tone and he forced himself to take deep, slow breaths. Calming breaths.
She spread her hands in confusion and her smooth brow wrinkled in bewilderment. “But how can I help you with that? I doubt I know anyone who—”
“Faith.” His deep voice stopped her tumbling words. “I’d like you to be my wife.”
Her eyes widened. Her mouth formed a perfect O of surprise. She put a hand up and pointed to herself as if she needed confirmation that she hadn’t lost her mind, and her lips soundlessly formed the word, “Me?”
He nodded, feeling an unaccustomed heat rising into his face. “Yes. You.”

Two
Stone couldn’t have shocked her more if he’d asked her to stand and start stripping. Faith stared at him, convinced he’d lost his mind.
“Not,” he said hastily, “a real wife. Let me explain.” He took a deep breath. He was looking down at his drink instead of at her, and she was surprised to see a dull bronze flush rising in his cheeks. “My mother is beginning to think about retirement. She’s offered me her company, but before she’ll turn it over she wants me to be married.”
“Why would she do that?” She was completely baffled. What kind of mother would put her own child in a position like that?
“She thinks I need to settle down and give her some grandchildren.” He snorted. “Although I can’t imagine why. She’s not exactly the most maternal person in the world.”
She wondered if he heard the note of resentment and what else? Longing, perhaps, for something that hadn’t been, in his voice. “Forcing you into marriage seems a little…extreme,” she said carefully.
His face was grim. “My mother’s a control freak. This is just one more little trick she’s playing to try to arrange my life to suit herself.” He bared his teeth in what she felt sure he thought was a smile. “So this time I intend to outfox her.”
“What happens if you refuse to get married?”
He shrugged. “I guess she liquidates or sells. I didn’t ask.” He leaned forward, his eyes blazing a brilliant blue in the candlelight. “It would mean a lot to me, Faith. I want to keep Smythe Corp. a Lachlan holding.”
“Why?”
He stared at her, clearly taken aback. “Why?” When she nodded, he sat back, as if to distance himself from the question. “Well, because it’s a good business decision.”
“But surely there are other companies out there that fit the bill. Why this company?”
“Because it’s my heritage. My great-grandfather founded Smythe Corp. It would be a shame to see it pass out of the family.”
There was something more there, she realized as she registered the tension in his posture, something she couldn’t put her finger on, that underlay his stated reasons for wanting that particular company. But she had a feeling he wouldn’t take kindly to being pushed any further.
“Will you do it?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” She chewed her lip. “It seems so dishonest—”
“Any less dishonest than trying to force me into marriage just because she’s decreed it’s time?” he demanded. For the first time, his control slipped and she caught a glimpse of the desperation lurking beneath his stoic facade. But he quickly controlled it, and when he spoke, his voice was calm again. “It would only be for a year,” he said, “or a bit more. Strictly temporary. Strictly platonic. Except that we’d have to convince my mother that it’s a real marriage. I’m not asking you to lie about anything that would hurt anyone.” He stared deep into her eyes. “Think about that company, Faith. It’s been in my family for three generations. If it’s sold to an outsider, who knows what kind of restructuring might occur? Hundreds of people might lose their jobs.”
She frowned at him. “That’s emotional blackmail.”
He grinned ruefully. “Did it work?”
She stared at him, her thoughts crashing over each other in chaotic patterns. “Would we live together?”
He nodded. “You’d have to move into my place for the duration. But we’d get an annulment when the time comes. And I’d expect to pay you for your time.”
Pay you. She was almost ashamed of the mercenary thoughts that rushed through her head. Practical, she told herself, not mercenary. Not much. She couldn’t possibly let him pay her. Not after all he’d done for her. This would be a good way to do something for him in return. Besides, if she moved in with him, she wouldn’t have to keep renting her apartment.
She could go back to school, get a lot farther along in her education more quickly, if she didn’t have living expenses. She only had a year and a half to go. Which meant that she’d be able to start repaying him sooner. Because regardless of what he said, she was going to pay back everything he’d done for her and her mother in the years since her father had died. And suddenly, that goal didn’t seem so totally out of reach.
A profound relief washed over her and she closed her eyes for a moment.
“Are you all right?” He reached across the table and cupped her chin in his hand.
She swallowed, very aware of the warmth of his strong fingers on her skin. His touch sent small sizzling streamers of excitement coursing through her and she suppressed a shiver of longing. “Yes.” But it came out a whisper. She cleared her throat. “But you can’t pay me.”
He released her chin, his brows snapping together. “Of course I’ll—”
“No. I’m in your debt already.”
“All right,” he said promptly. “How about this: if you marry me for the time I need to get Smythe Corp., I’ll consider all the debt you imagine you owe me to be paid in full.”
She froze for a moment as hope blossomed. Then she realized she couldn’t possibly make a deal like that. It wouldn’t be fair to him. She started to shake her head, but before she could speak, Stone raised a hand.
“Hear me out. Marriage would be a sacrifice. You’d lose a year of your freedom. You’d be expected to attend social functions with me and play the part of hostess when we entertain. We’d have to convince my mother it was a real marriage for real reasons.”
She didn’t ask what he meant, but she could feel a blush heating her own face now as she sat silently considering his proposal.
“It’s a fair deal,” he urged. “An exchange of favors, if you like.”
She wasn’t so sure of that. Taking care of her mother and her for eight years weighed a lot more on her scale than one measly year of marriage did. But when she met his gaze, she could see the iron determination there. If she didn’t agree to this, he was liable to start in about paying her again.
And there was another factor, one that outweighed even her concerns about her finances. A moment ago, she’d seen naked panic in his eyes at the thought of losing that company. It wasn’t financial, she was sure. But it was terribly important to Stone for some reason. And because she’d discerned that, she knew what her answer had to be.
“All right,” she said hoarsely. “It’s a deal. But there are three conditions.”
He only raised one eyebrow.
“I’d like to continue with my education—”
“You don’t need to finish school.” Impatience quivered in every line of his big body. “You’ll be doing me an enormous favor with this marriage. The least I can do is settle a sum on you at the end of the year. You won’t need to work at all.”
“I want to work,” she insisted. “And I want to go back to school.”
“You won’t be able to work,” he said. “Can you imagine what the press would do with that?”
Unfortunately she could. As one of the richest men in the country, Stone dealt with a ridiculous amount of intrusive press.
“You’d have to consider being my wife your job,” he said. “But I’ll pay your tuition if you insist on taking classes.”
“I do,” she said firmly. “I’ll reenroll for the summer session.”
“All right. Now what’s the third thing?”
She hated that she had to ask him for help with anything, but she had no choice. And it wasn’t for her. “My mother,” she said quietly. “The cost of her care—”
“Is not a problem for me,” he said firmly. Then he leaned forward. “In fact, if you like, we could move your mother into my home. There’s an apartment on the main floor for live-in help but I’ve never had anyone live in. She could stay there.”
It was a generous offer and a generous thought, even if he was doing it for selfish reasons. She swallowed, more tempted by the thought than she should be. It would make her life much easier in many ways. And she’d be able to see her mother every day, perhaps even help with her care
“Please,” Stone said. “I’d really like you to do this, Faith.”
She studied his handsome face, serious and unsmiling, his eyes intense with the force of his will and an odd feeling rippled through her. “All right,” she said. Then she cleared her throat and spoke more firmly. “I’ll marry you.”

The next morning, Saturday, he picked her up in his silver Lexus and took her to his home so that she could see where she’d be living and check out the apartment for her mother. He’d asked her to stop working immediately, and though he could tell she didn’t like it, she’d informed him when he picked her up that she was no longer employed.
“Don’t think of it as unemployed,” he advised. “You just switched jobs.”
She was silent as he maneuvered the car through Manhattan’s insanely crowded streets to the quieter area where he made his home.
He could see her chewing her lip as she had the night before and he wondered what she was thinking. Worrying, probably, about whether or not she’d made a bad decision.
As he braked for a light, he said, “Thank you. I know this isn’t an easy thing for you to do.” He put his hand over hers where it lay in her lap and squeezed. This time he was prepared for the sensation her soft flesh aroused. Or so he told himself. Still, the shock he’d absorbed when he’d touched her last night reverberated through him. All he’d done was place his hand beneath her chin, letting his fingers rest against the silken skin of her cheek.
He thought he’d steeled himself for the same reaction that had hit him yesterday when he’d touched her lip.
But he hadn’t been prepared for the strong current of attraction that tore through him, making him want to deepen the skin-to-skin contact in a very basic way. It was as if she was a live circuit and touching her plugged him in to her special current. He mentally shook his head. What was he doing, asking the girl to live in his home? Putting temptation right under his nose probably wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done.
Still, as he drew her from the car and took the elevator from the garage to his Fifth Avenue town house across from Central Park, he felt an immense relief. Faith had been sheltered her entire life. Who knew what kind of things might happen to a naive girl like her on her own? He’d promised his father’s memory that he’d take care of Faith, and he would.
Unlocking the door, he ushered her into his home. Inside the door, Faith stopped in the large central foyer, looking around. Though she’d spent her early years in a family that wanted for little, he imagined that the place seemed luxurious compared to the seedy little apartment in which she was living. Looking at it through her eyes, he watched her as he realized he was holding his breath waiting for her reaction.
“This is lovely,” she said quietly. “Simply lovely.”
He smiled, relieved. Straight ahead of them, a hallway led to the back of the house while a staircase just to the right of the hall climbed graciously to a landing that led to an upper floor. To the left was a formal living room with an equally formal dining room through an archway behind it; to their right was Stone’s office, with its masculine desk, lined shelves of books and office equipment that filled the surfaces of the built-in counters along one wall.
“I’m glad you like it.” He stepped around her and indicated the stairs. “Would you like to see the upstairs? I’ll show you your room.”
She moved obediently in the direction he indicated, climbing the stairs as he followed. He took her down the hallway past an open set of double doors, pausing briefly to indicate the masculine-looking master suite done in striking shades of burgundy, black and gold. “That’s my room.” Turning, he pointed to the doors just opposite. “And across the hall is a guest suite. Your room will be the next one on the right. It should suit you. It belonged to my mother years ago and I’ve never changed it.” He shook his head. “She may have her flaws but I can’t fault her taste.”
Leading her to her room, he pushed open both doors.
“Oh,” she said on a sigh, “it’s perfect.”
It was a charming, feminine suite decorated in soft lavenders and blues accented with pure white. Though it was slightly smaller than his, it was still spacious, with a walk-in closet, a sitting area and a large full bath. He walked past her into the bathroom. “Our rooms are connected,” he told her, sliding back a large set of louvered doors to reveal his bath and bedroom beyond. “No one will have to know we don’t share a room.”
She couldn’t look him in the eye. “All right,” she said in a muffled tone.
“Faith.” He waited patiently until finally, she gazed across the room at him. “This will be a good arrangement for both of us. I promise to respect your privacy.”
She nodded. Her cheeks had grown pink and he knew that she understood that he was telling her, in as gentle a way as he could, that she had nothing to fear from him sexually. No, appealing as she might be, he had no intention of changing the platonic status of their relationship.
By the time they had finished the house tour, it was lunchtime. He’d decided to show her how it would be when they lived together so he took her into the kitchen and seated her on a stool at the large island while he made tuna salad, sliced tomatoes and piled the combination between two halves of a croissant with cheese. He grilled the sandwiches while he sliced up a fresh pineapple.
“I didn’t expect you to know your way around a kitchen,” she told him, filling two glasses with ice and water as he’d asked her to do.
He grinned. “Figured I’d have a chef on standby waiting to fulfill my every wish?”
“Something like that.” She glanced up at him and smiled. “I can cook, although I’m no Julia Child. I’d be happy to do the cooking.”
“Actually,” he admitted, “I do have a woman who comes in Monday through Thursday unless I have to be away. Why don’t we keep her for the time being until you see how much free time you’re going to have?”
“I’ll have free time from nine-to-five every day of the week,” she said. “If there’s anything I can help with, all you have to do is ask.”
He couldn’t imagine asking her to get involved in any of his business dealings except in a social fashion, and he had someone to clean the house, so he couldn’t think of anything he’d want her to do. “You’ll have studying to do as soon as the summer term starts,” he said instead. “And you’ll be able to spend some time with your mother.”
She brightened, and he remembered her pleasure last night at the idea of spending time with her mother. It was ironic, really, that they both had been deprived of their mothers for part of their childhoods. The difference was, she looked forward to spending precious time with her mother while he went out of his way to avoid close contact with his. “That will be nice.” Her light voice broke into the dark thought. “We haven’t had a lot of time together since I went away to school.”
Which was not long after the accident in which their fathers had died, he thought, as an awkward silence fell.
“Sometimes it doesn’t seem possible that Daddy’s been gone for eight years.” Her voice, quiet and subdued, broke the moment.
A stab of grief sharper than any he’d allowed himself to feel in a long time pierced his heart. “I know what you mean. Sometimes I still expect mine to walk through the door.”
Her gaze flew to his. “This was your childhood home?”
He nodded. “Dad and Mother lived here when they were first married. After the divorce, she moved out.”
“That must have been hard,” she offered. “How old were you?”
“Six. And no, it wasn’t particularly hard.” He willed away the memories of his youth, of the nights he’d spent crying into his pillow, wondering what he’d done to make his mother leave. Of the days he’d envied schoolmates who had had mothers who cared enough to show up for visitors’ days and school plays, mothers who sat in the stands during baseball games and cheered, mothers who planned birthday parties and actually remembered cake and presents. “My mother was rarely here and when she was, she and Dad were shouting the walls down half the time.”
The sympathy shining in her silvery eyes moved him more than he wanted to admit. “My childhood was just the opposite. Extremely quiet. My mother’s illness was diagnosed when I was less than two years old, and my father and I did our best to keep her from getting upset about anything.” She rested her elbows on the bar and crossed her arms. “In that respect, we have something in common. I went to my dad with my problems, because I couldn’t go to my mother.”
He smiled. “Did you know I used to go to the Mets games with your father and mine?” He shook his head. “Dad had great seats right along the third base line and we never missed a home game. Those two knew every player’s stats going back to the beginning of time. And they used to argue about who the MVP was each season, who should go to the All-Star team, who ought to be traded…looking back, I think they just argued because it was fun.”
Her eyes were crinkled in laughter. “I’ve never heard about this before.” Her smile faded slightly, wobbled. “I guess you probably have a lot of memories of my father that I don’t.”
He hesitated, torn between lying to spare her feelings and telling her the truth. Truth won. “Yeah, I guess I do. Some of my best memories are of times I spent with my dad and yours. I’ll tell you some more when we have time.” He rose and took the lunch plates to the sink for the housekeeper. “This afternoon, I’d like to go pick out rings. Is that all right with you?”
Her gray eyes widened. “Rings? Is that really necessary?”
He nodded, a little disappointed that she didn’t yet seem to grasp the seriousness of his proposal. “Yes. This will be a real marriage, Faith.” He almost reached for her shoulders, then stopped himself, remembering the desire that had knocked him over the last time he’d touched her. “Our reasons might be a little different from most people’s but we’ll be as legally wed as the next couple. So let’s go get rings.”
He called ahead, so that they would have some privacy while they shopped, and thirty minutes later, he handed her out of a cab in front of Tiffany & Company. Faith was a quiet presence at his side as they waited for the doors to be unlocked.
As they stepped into the cool hush of the store, a beaming saleswoman was upon them. “Welcome, Mr. Lachlan. It is Tiffany’s pleasure and mine to serve you. How can we help you today?”
“Wedding rings,” he said.
The woman’s eyes widened as did those of the other employees ranged behind her, and he wondered how many minutes it would be until the press got wind of his marriage. He supposed he should warn Faith, though certainly she knew how ridiculously newsworthy his life was. Then he realized that they had better each tell their mothers about their plans before they read it in tomorrow’s paper.
“We have a lovely selection right back here.” The saleswoman had recovered quickly and was indicating that they should follow her.
Twenty minutes later, Faith was still perched on the edge of a comfortable chair, quietly staring at the array of precious stones scattered across the black velvet before her. She shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly—”
From where he stood behind her, Stone said, “All right. If you can’t decide, I’ll choose one.” He knew she’d been going to say something ridiculous, like, “I couldn’t possibly accept such an expensive ring when you’ve already done so much for me.” It bothered him that the salespeople hovering around with their antennae primed for gossip would find rich pickings if they knew the truth about this marriage. Only, of course, because he couldn’t risk having his mother find out. Of course.
He bent down to Faith and murmured in her ear. “Be careful what you say in here—it will get into the papers.”
That startled her, he could tell by the way she jerked around and stared up at him, her face wearing an expression of shock. While she was still staring at him, he reached for a stunning square, brilliant-cut diamond ring with progressively smaller diamonds trailing down each side. It was set in platinum. He’d liked it the moment the woman had pulled it out of the case, and he suspected Faith liked it, too, from the way her eyes had caressed it. He lifted her left hand from her lap and immediately felt the tingling electricity that arced between them as their flesh connected. He took a deep breath and slipped the ring onto her third finger. There was just a hint of resistance at the knuckle before it slid smoothly into place and he quickly dropped her hand as if it burned. It was the same feeling he’d convinced himself he hadn’t felt when he’d taken her chin in his hand, indeed when he touched her in any way.

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