“Who’s there?” Drew called out.

Sweat broke out when he heard the cock of a shotgun.

With a fast reflex, Drew hooked the ankle of the intruder and they landed hard on the dirt floor. He heard the rush of air from the woman’s lungs.

And her sputtering.

He felt like laughing.

Olivia.

What the hell was she doing here?

“Drew!” Her voice registered amazement; then she laughed, relaxing under his weight. “Oh, I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” he said. “In case you haven’t noticed, I won that round.”

“I don’t think so.”

Unable to resist, Drew dipped his head and kissed her, stealing her breath before she could catch it and talk back.

When her arms crept around his neck, he knew he’d won this minor skirmish, but not the entire battle!

Dear Reader,

Instead of writing your resolutions, I have the perfect way to begin the new year—read this month’s spectacular selection of Silhouette Special Edition romances! These exciting books will put a song in your heart, starting with another installment of our very popular MONTANA MAVERICKS series—In Love With Her Boss by the stellar Christie Ridgway. Christie vows this year to “appreciate the time I have with my husband and sons and appreciate them for the unique people they are.”

Lindsay McKenna brings us a thrilling story from her MORGAN’S MERCENARIES: DESTINY’S WOMEN series with Woman of Innocence, in which an adventure-seeking beauty meets up with the legendary—and breathtaking—mercenary of her dreams! The excitement continues with Victoria Pade’s next tale, On Pins and Needles, in her A RANCHING FAMILY series. Here, a skeptical sheriff falls for a lovely acupuncturist who finds the wonder cure for all his doubts—her love!

And what does a small-town schoolteacher do when she finds a baby on her doorstep? Find out in Nikki Benjamin’s heartwarming reunion romance Rookie Cop. A love story you’re sure to savor is The Older Woman by Cheryl Reavis, in which a paratrooper captain falls head over heels for the tough-talking nurse living next door. This year, Cheryl wants to “stop and smell the roses.” I also recommend Lisette Belisle’s latest marriage-of-convenience story, The Wedding Bargain, in which an inheritance—and two hearts—are at stake! Lisette believes that the new year means “a fresh start, and vows to meet each new day with renewed faith, energy and a sense of humor.”

I’m pleased to celebrate with you the beginning of a brand-new year. May you also stop to smell the roses, and find many treasures in Silhouette Special Edition the whole year through!

Enjoy!

Karen Taylor Richman

Senior Editor

The Wedding Bargain
Lisette Belisle

www.millsandboon.co.uk

With heartfelt thanks to my agent, Karen Solem, for reasons too numerous to list.

LISETTE BELISLE

believes in putting everything into whatever she does, whether it’s a nursing career, motherhood or writing. While balancing a sense of practicality with a streak of adventure, she applies that dedication in creating stories of people overcoming the odds. Her message is clear—believe in yourself and believe in love. She is the founder and past president of the Saratoga chapter of Romance Writers of America. Canadian-born, she grew up in New Hampshire and currently lives in upstate New York with her engineer husband, Frank.

She’d love to hear from her readers. She can be reached at: P.O. Box 1166, Ballston Lake, NY 12019.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter One

I t felt strange to be free.

Free.

Five years after an explosion ripped his world apart, Drew Pierce walked into a roadside diner. Seeking temporary shelter from the rain, and the descending night, he blended in with the rough crowd.

His clothes felt damp, they were cheap, free prison issue, no name brands. His mouth twisted, recalling a time when that had actually mattered to him. Shrugging the thought aside, he skirted the occupied tables and found a seat at the chrome-edged counter. He sat on a hard stool, aware of a certain weariness that had nothing to do with time and circumstances.

His last ride had dropped him off at the diner. After a short break he’d be on the road again, hitching a ride with one of the truck drivers going his way. He was going home, surely a time for rejoicing. But no one was cheering, least of all him.

A middle-aged waitress was flipping burgers; onions sizzled on the grill. She looked dead on her feet; nevertheless, she spared him a smile. “What’ll it be?”

Drew stared back blankly. It had been so long since anyone had offered him a choice.

Choices.

He’d made so many wrong ones. They’d brought him to this place…this moment in time. The fluorescent lights were dim with several bulbs burned out. The day’s menu—meat loaf, mashed potatoes and green beans, along with the usual fare of burgers and deli-type selections—was posted on a chalkboard. The diner was definitely not a four-star establishment. He’d hit rock bottom.

The waitress was waiting for his order.

“Just coffee—black.” He raised his voice above the music blaring out of the jukebox. He didn’t recognize the tune, but it was pure country.

“You want anything to go with that?”

“That’s it,” Drew replied, with his thin wallet in mind. He barely had enough money to last a couple more days. His empty stomach groaned in protest. His gaze drifted hungrily to the pie sitting under glass. The crust was thin, the filling thick, purple-blue.

The waitress followed his glance. “We’re closing soon. The last piece is half-price.” Her kindness surprised Drew.

Swallowing his pride, he murmured, “Thanks.”

Moments later he bit into the generous wedge of pie. Yes, the blueberries were just as wild and sweet as he remembered, like forbidden fruit, some of northern Maine’s finest, no doubt. The coffee was strong, just the way he liked it—not that he would have complained.

He’d learned to accept small inconveniences, small indignities, even the big ones, to be honest. And he was nothing if not honest—a hard-won lesson. With everything stripped away, he’d taken a hard look at himself and didn’t like what he’d seen—a careless playboy, a user. His father had always said his second son would come to a bad end; and Drew had proved him right.

He polished off the last bite of pie.

In the corner, a television set was tuned to a football game. A few men had gathered around. Drew glanced at it idly. Someone turned up the volume a notch or two, competing with the jukebox and the sounds of laughter and conversation.

When the noise abruptly leveled off, Drew was slow to react. Lifting his cup to his mouth, he didn’t turn to gape at the new arrival as the other men did; nevertheless, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the woman’s reflection in the mirror behind the counter. Through a smoke-filled haze, he got an eyeful.

He’d heard the saying “Good things come in small packages.” Small and slender in a black leather jacket, with tight black jeans tucked into leather boots, she was dynamite.

For a brief charged minute, their gazes connected in the mirror. Something warm kindled in her eyes before she glanced away. With a stifled inner groan, Drew tried to deny his gut reaction. How long had it been since he’d been within touching distance of a beautiful sexy woman?

Too long.

When she drew off a cap to reveal a glorious tangle of pale golden hair, a man sitting near Drew was lighting a cigarette. The match flared, then burned down while she shook the moisture from her head, then walked slowly forward—every move as graceful as a small sinewy cat.

“Ouch!” The match burned the man’s fingers.

With a wry smile, Drew knew exactly how the man felt. She was hot. Once, he would have tried to pick her up. Now, he buried the impulse and nursed his coffee. He’d sown his wild oats, and then some. From now on, he intended to be the soul of discretion and stay out of trouble.

And she looked like his definition of trouble!

Apart from that, she looked youthful, a little unsure. Drew hoped she knew how to handle herself with this crowd because he had no intention of coming to her rescue. The tension in the room was palpable. And all because of a little piece of fluff.

She looked fragile, yet ripe.

With a frown, Drew silenced the thought.

The lights dimmed slightly.

The waitress called, “Closing in ten.”

Olivia DeAngelis heard the announcement.

Just her luck, she thought. With a sinking feeling, she took in the scene. The diner was closing. And here she was, stranded, somewhere south of Presque Isle.

She had planned to stay overnight in Bangor. But disheartened after seeing her lawyer and receiving his less-than-encouraging summary of her finances—and what she could do about it—she’d changed her mind and decided to head home despite the bad driving weather.

Now, to make matters worse, she’d stumbled into a diner filled with hard-core bikers and truckers. There wasn’t a respectable-looking man in sight, she decided, automatically rating each man according to his general appearance.

When she found her gaze tangling a second time with a pair of brooding dark eyes reflected in the mirror behind the counter, she wondered—had she sunk low enough to consider a stranger met in a seedy diner? She flushed at the thought and watched his eyes narrow. Had he read her mind?

Hastily she looked away.

At the moment, she had more pressing concerns than finding a husband to satisfy her lawyer. How to get home topped her list.

While she hesitated, one man broke from a group around the television. “Hey, doll, need some company?”

Trying to appear casual, she smiled. “No, thanks, I’m meeting someone.” She wasn’t, but he didn’t have to know that.

“Don’t rush off.”

Olivia felt a big beefy hand on her arm. “Excuse me,” she said, dismissing him more firmly.

The man chuckled through his thick pepper-gray beard, but he didn’t loosen his hold. “Forget your date. How about a drink?”

Olivia looked around for an escape. Her gaze fell again on the lone man at the far end of the counter. While all the other men were watching with avid attention, he was ignoring her—which made him appear safe.

“There’s my date.” She disguised her clamoring nerves with a light laugh. Forcing herself not to run, she crossed the room.

“Hey,” the man called after her. “Not so fast.”

Olivia didn’t slow down. Taking a deep breath, she slid onto the empty stool beside the stranger, then leaned toward him.

“Please, pretend you know me,” she whispered, momentarily shaken by the shuttered cynicism in his dark-brown eyes when he turned to look at her. “Just for a couple of minutes.”

Meeting her plea with an unwelcoming frown, he released a harsh sigh with the words, “I don’t want any trouble.”

“Neither do I.” She met his dark gaze.

He shook his head. “Look, I’m no knight in shining armor. Why don’t you find someone else?”

She looked around. “Who do you recommend?”

“Hell,” he muttered, then fell silent.

Taking that as an agreement, Olivia relaxed…a little.

The waitress glanced at both of them. “Who’s buying?”

“I am,” Olivia spoke up brightly. Thanks to a difficult childhood, she’d learned to take care of herself. Adapting to any new situation was lesson number one.

With a trail of unhappy children and broken marriages left behind, Olivia’s mother had spent her life trying to find herself—usually through some man.

Sadly she never had.

For the most part, Olivia avoided the male half of the species. It wasn’t that she didn’t like men; she simply didn’t want one of her own.

However, she’d learned to rely on her intuition when all else failed her. Some basic instinct told her that her rescuer—no matter how reluctant, aloof and unsociable—would do her no harm.

Under the dim lights, his face appeared shadowed; his hair was dark, clipped short. His clothes looked as if they belonged to someone else—someone stockier. He looked down on his luck. Olivia could identify with that. In less than six months, she’d be homeless.

Putting the dismal reality aside, she glanced at his drink, surprised to see it was nonalcoholic.

“I’ll have a Coke,” she said to the waitress, while ignoring the stranger’s lack of enthusiasm about her company. “I’m starved. Can I have some chips with that? I’ve been on the road all day. The weather’s awful! Then, to top it off, my car’s been acting funny since I left Bangor.” Olivia stopped just long enough to take a much-needed breath. “I don’t suppose there’s anyone here who can fix it?”

“Not until morning, I’m afraid.” The waitress took a swipe at the counter with a damp sponge. “A mechanic usually comes on duty at the garage next door at eight. There’s a motel out back. It’s nothing special,” she added.

Olivia could just imagine a seedy motel. They probably charged by the hour. “I was hoping to get home tonight.”

She jumped when the stranger at her side spoke up.

“Where’s home?” he asked.

“Henderson. It’s not far, less than two hours away.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I know where it is.”

“Oh?” When he said nothing more, she spoke again, “By the way, my name’s Olivia DeAngelis. And you are?”

“Drew Pierce.” He seemed to wait for a reaction—obviously assuming she recognized the name.

Returning with Olivia’s order, the waitress provided a distraction. She looked at Drew with interest.

“My husband used to do some logging. You related to them Pierces?”

“Yes,” he responded.

Amused by the terse reply, Olivia raised her glass to her lips, hiding her surprise at his identity. So this was the infamous Drew Pierce. Of course, she’d heard of him.

The Pierce family had once controlled Henderson’s logging and farming economy, before an explosion destroyed the migrant camp. Olivia frowned, trying to recall the details of the trial that followed—something about safety violations. There were also charges of mismanagement. Despite some high-powered lawyers, Drew Pierce was found guilty and sentenced, after which his family had cut their losses and left Henderson. The town hadn’t been the same since.

Olivia glanced at him, taking in the square chin, the full sensuous mouth, the dark hair and eyes. Funny, he didn’t look like pond scum, or any other of the unflattering terms she’d heard used around town to describe him. In fact, he looked disturbingly handsome in a reckless, edgy sort of way.

Then she remembered something else.

His family might have left town, but their house, Oakridge, was still standing. They were practically neighbors! She almost said as much, but his closed expression suggested he wouldn’t welcome that piece of information.

Olivia opened the bag of chips and offered him some.

“No thanks.” Drew tried to ignore her.

He really did try.

Might as well try to ignore a fly buzzing around his ear, he decided. But with her laughter and lightness, she seemed so feminine, so new, reminding him of all the female company he’d missed. If he stayed here one moment longer, he’d be demanding a key to that motel room and trying to lure her out there. But he didn’t do that sort of thing anymore! He was reformed, determined to go straight and avoid any entanglements, even if it killed him. Which meant he needed to rescue her—if only from himself.

With that thought uppermost, he said, “I know something about cars. Let me take a look.”

“Thanks.” She sounded breathless, as if he’d surprised her.

He probably had—he’d shocked himself. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to help her. Maybe it was that vulnerable mouth or the determined cheerfulness…or the way she filled out her jeans. In any case, the sooner he fixed her car and sent her on her way, the better he would feel.

He held out his hand. “Can I have the keys?”

She started to hand them to him, then stopped. “I think I’ll come with you.”

So she wasn’t all that trusting.

Smart woman.

With a tight smile, Drew took the keys from her, got up, then walked out, not surprised when she hastened after him. He didn’t slow down until he reached the parking lot.

The truck stop was all lit up with glittering red and blue neon lights. Rain bounced off the pavement. Within seconds, he was drenched.

Great.

With a grimace of discomfort, Drew turned up the collar of his denim jacket. It wasn’t waterproof.

Through the downpour, he looked around the parking lot. “Which car is yours?”

She pointed to a sedan sandwiched between two eighteen-wheel trucks. “That one.” Her car was small, like her, and a pale powder-blue.

With Olivia looking on, Drew climbed into the driver’s seat, then turned the ignition. Nothing happened.

“When did you first notice something was wrong?” he asked.

In response, she spared him none of the details. “It was running fine when I left Bangor after dropping off my brother and his family at the airport. Then I had lunch and did a couple of errands. It all took longer than I hoped. The car was still fine when I started driving home. Then it got dark.”

“Then what?”

“When I turned on the lights, they were dim. And they got dimmer. I’m lucky I got this far.”

Lucky for whom?

Sorting through all the information, Drew said, “Sounds like the battery might be going. How old is it?”

She looked at the car. “I bought it secondhand.”

“When was that?”

“About four years ago. They said all the equipment was original.” She beamed—as if that was a good thing.

Drew grunted some response. Her optimism was beginning to wear thin. “Let’s have a look.” He propped the hood open, then bent over the engine. “The battery terminals look corroded.”

“Hmm.” She got out an umbrella—a yellow flowered one, then tried to hold it steady over his head while he cleaned the terminals. The wind blew, rain lashed in four directions.

Before long, they were both soaked. She sneezed.

Drew glanced at her. “Why don’t you go back inside?”

“You might need my help.” She smiled at him, her eyes wide and gray, as crystal clear and guileless as a mountain stream.

He stared for a long moment. Something about her seemed familiar. “What did you say your name was?”

“Olivia DeAngelis.”

His gaze skimmed over her delicate flower-face, her pale hair. Irrepressible as her, it curled like a gold halo around her head. “You don’t look Italian.”

In her black leather jacket and jeans, she was an intriguing blend of worldliness and innocence. A wayward angel.

“I’m not. I was adopted.” She didn’t add any details.

“You’re not from around here originally.”

She tilted her head. “How did you guess?”

“The accent gave you away.” He’d gone to college and met people from the West Coast. “California breeze.”

She laughed. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”

When he remained silent, her smile faded.

So he’d finally burst her bubble of cheer. In a way, Drew regretted it, but perhaps it was just as well. He didn’t need a woman like her cluttering his life. He had no connections; his family had disowned him. Under the circumstances, he didn’t really blame them. His list of transgressions was long.

He’d hurt some innocent people and served time in an out-of-state minimum-security prison—not his idea of a country club by any stretch of the imagination. Society had exacted a price, and he’d paid. Would that satisfy his detractors and earn forgiveness? He was going home to face the same people who judged him guilty and sent him to prison. Beyond that, he had no plans—except to pick up his few belongings, then head out somewhere.

He had no clear destination in mind—as long as it was as far from his past as he could get.

Only one thing was certain—no one would miss him.

Not a soul.

Did he care?

He wasn’t sure. The admission left him empty.

At his deliberate attempt to distance himself, Olivia shivered in the cold autumn night. She tried to shake off Drew’s easy dismissal. People usually liked her; she worked hard to make sure they did.

Unexpectedly hurt and not willing to examine the reason too closely since all six-foot-two of him was standing less than a yard away, she decided to treat his rudeness with silence. That lasted about a minute.

Now he was glowering at the engine!

Alarmed, she leaned over for a closer look—brushing his hard elbow with her own.

“What’s wrong with it?” she asked, confused by the mess of greasy gears and wires.

“Nothing.” He inched his arm away, leaving her feeling colder than before. “I just cleaned and reset the wires. With a jump-start, you can be on your way.”

“Oh.” What had she expected?

Surprisingly he gave her a direct glance. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been rude.”

His mouth was set in a rigid line, his brow was furrowed. He didn’t look sorry. His chiseled features looked hard, with deep-set eyes that looked older than the rest of him. Despite that bit of insight, Olivia hardened her sympathetic heart.

She didn’t flinch from the truth. “You think I’m an airhead.” Why did that hurt? Why should she care what this man thought? She’d survived worse.

Drew heard the defensive note in her voice. “I didn’t say that.” All right, so maybe he did think she was a mental lightweight. He couldn’t deny that. But he also thought she was very young—far too young and vulnerable to be out alone, forced to rely on strangers for help.

If she belonged to him, he’d—

He stopped the thought before it went anywhere.

She wasn’t his. There had been many women in his life, but only one had touched his heart and left it permanently scarred. There was no room for another, which was exactly the way he wanted it.

Wasn’t it?

Before they got mired any deeper in this conversation, Drew decided to put an end to it. “Look, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

She lifted her dainty chin. “You didn’t.”

He tried to keep a note of impatience from creeping into his voice. “I don’t know you. I offered to fix your car. That’s it. We’re never going to see each other again, so my opinion hardly matters. Does it?”

Her heart-shaped face, with delicate brows and mouth, remained soft—even though she was visibly annoyed. “No, it doesn’t.”

At her aggrieved tone, he hid a smile.

“Then how about handing me that wrench?” He held out his hand.

“This one?” She slapped the hard metal into his outstretched palm.

The impact stung.

“Thanks,” he said dryly. Despite her diminutive size, Olivia DeAngelis packed a wallop.

“I think I’ll wait in the car.” She coolly folded her umbrella, then turned away.

In silence Drew watched her climb into the car, firmly resisting the urge to call her back, to apologize. He winced when she slammed the door.

Drew bent to his task again. Moments later, a trucker stopped and offered the use of his jumper cables. Before long, with the battery recharged, the car started on the first try. Drew dropped the hood with a satisfied “thud.” With a tip of his hat, the trucker drove away.

“Guess that does it.” Drew wiped his hands on a rag.

Olivia sat in the driver’s seat. Unsmiling, she rolled down the window. “Thank you so much for your help. I’d like to pay you something for your trouble.”

At her offer, Drew backed away. “No thanks.”

Olivia frowned, her fine brows arched. “But I would have paid a mechanic.”

Drew shook his head, absorbing the fact that she was different from so many women he’d known in his life who wanted something from him. Being broke eliminated that worry.

“It’s not necessary.” He wouldn’t accept money from her, even though he could use it. The fact that she’d probably guessed stung his pride.

But when he looked into her wide gray eyes, he didn’t see pity, just understanding. Acceptance. He was down on his luck, there was no hiding it.

After a lifetime of trying to live up to everyone’s expectations, and failing badly, Drew was free of the Pierce wealth, free of all the family trappings—which left him in the middle of nowhere—with the lonely night bearing down on him with each passing second, and the rain carrying the cold sting of autumn.

“Thank you,” she said simply.

“You’re welcome.” With an ironic smile, Drew turned away, leaving her with a half-mocking, “So long, Angel.”

Chapter Two

A ngel.

Olivia smiled ruefully.

He’d obviously forgotten her name.

She didn’t watch him walk away. She refused to let his careless dismissal hurt. No matter how intriguing, Drew Pierce was nothing more than a passing stranger—and not a very friendly one at that.

Men like him were good at one thing—walking away from a woman. She wasn’t sure how she knew that after such a brief encounter, but she did. Her smooth brow knit into a pensive frown. It occurred to her that Drew was the type of man who would make an ideal husband for her purposes—an absent one.

Despite the obvious benefits of such an arrangement, Olivia shuddered at the mere thought of marriage as a clear-cut business arrangement, even a temporary one. It was unthinkable, but then, so was losing Stone’s End.

When the wind blew a few fat drops of rain through the open car window, she rolled it up, then turned on the heat, along with the radio. Warm air took off the chill, soft music poured into the silent void, drowning out her troubled thoughts.

She didn’t want to think beyond getting to Stone’s End—while she could still call it home. Unless she could find a legal method to break her birth father’s will, it wouldn’t be home much longer. Had she found Stone’s End only to lose it?

At the age of nineteen, she’d connected with her birth family through a detective the family had hired to search for clues concerning a long-lost daughter.

Admittedly wary when first approached and afraid of building her hopes too high, Olivia had learned that her mother had been married to Ira Carlisle for a number of years. When the marriage ended, Avis left without informing Ira that a third child was on the way. As a result, Olivia had grown up not knowing she had a father, and an older brother and sister. Finding out she had a family was a lifelong dream; and typically, the reality didn’t live up to the fantasy.

When Ira died six months ago, Olivia had sincerely mourned the loss. He’d divided his beloved farm equally between his three grown children. Jared and Jessie had each received their generous portions when they married, so the terms of the will no longer governed their lives. But it created havoc with Olivia’s life.

Leave it to Ira not to leave any loose ends—particularly concerning his long-lost daughter, Olivia thought with a dispirited sigh. In his ironclad will, Ira left her a share of Stone’s End, which included the original farmhouse and a fair parcel of land.

There was only one small catch. She needed a wedding certificate in order to claim it. The terms gave her a year to find a husband and tie the knot.

She had only six months left.

Olivia shifted the car into gear. A red warning light in the dashboard caught her attention; her gas tank was nearly empty.

Fortunately the gas station attached to the diner was still open. She filled up, then stocked up on a few snacks from a vending machine. A couple of candy bars and bottled water should tide her over until she got home.

Moments later, when she turned the car key in the ignition, nothing happened. Holding her breath, she tried again. When the engine roared to life, Olivia released a deep sigh of relief.

She wouldn’t let herself think of the long lonely stretch of road ahead or the empty house waiting.

By now, the diner was flashing a Closed sign.

A couple of motorcycles roared past. Trucks pulled out, heading east, west, south, anywhere but north—her direction.

At the first crossroads, Olivia slowed when she observed a deep shadow on the edge of the road. A hitchhiker. The man’s features were shadowed, but she instantly identified the tall wiry build. She should keep driving. But Drew Pierce had generously repaired her car and asked for nothing in return.

How could she leave him stranded in the rain?

The small powder-blue car slowed to a stop.

Drew groaned inwardly. He thought he’d seen the last of her. Olivia. Now here she was again. He kept walking, hoping she’d get the message and drive on.

No such luck.

The horn beeped once, twice. Her persistence simply amazed him. When she reached to open the door, heat rushed out of the car.

“Do you want a ride?” she asked, her voice casual, but friendly, with that soft feminine persuasive note that could probably melt an iceberg.

Drew wasn’t totally immune.

For a moment, he searched his brain for any excuse, some glimmer of common sense that would keep him from accepting her invitation and getting further involved with her, this woman who made him ache just by looking at her.

He looked up and then down the highway, hoping for a reprieve, any sort of transportation that didn’t come with a delicate blonde in the driver’s seat. Unfortunately no one else was going his way. Just then, he felt the rain penetrate another layer of his clothes. Despite the chilling reminder of his present circumstances, he was still tempted to refuse her offer.

Then common sense came to his rescue.

Drew tossed his gear into the back seat. Avoiding Olivia DeAngelis wasn’t worth getting a case of pneumonia. He hoped.

“Thanks,” he muttered, folding his considerable length into the small passenger seat of her car. He couldn’t resist an irritated, “Do you make a habit of picking up strange men?”

Her eyes widened. “But I know you.”

He sighed. “Lady, you don’t know the first thing about me.”

“The waitress vouched for you.”

Biting off a few choice words, Drew said, “She never set eyes on me before I walked in there tonight.”

“But she knows your family.”

Drew stared at her in disbelief. “And that does it for you?”

“Why not? Is there something wrong with them?”

“No, of course not,” Drew muttered, refusing to be drawn into that sensitive topic. “But that isn’t the point.”

“Then, exactly what is?” She tilted her head. Definitely not an airhead, he decided. Sharp intelligence and stubborn determination gleamed in her gray eyes when she insisted, “You did me a favor when you repaired my car. I always pay my debts.”

Always?

He wondered if that was true.

For a moment, the overhead light illuminated the interior of the car, flickering over her bright hair and fair skin. In that instant, every detail about her registered in his mind, like an indelible stamp that would linger long after she did.

His gaze drifted lower. At some point, she’d unzipped her black leather jacket. Underneath, she wore a white tailored shirt and a snug-fitting suede vest. The look might have been severe, except for the whimsical needlework, roses and primroses, embroidered along the front panels. The vest hugged her, drawing his attention to the slender curve of her waist, the faint shadow between her breasts.

Drew dragged his eyes away from that sweetness, taking in the fine pulse beating in her throat. Her eyes looked wide—and wary—not totally trusting. Apparently she wasn’t as brave, or as bold, as she appeared on the surface.

That look of vulnerability melted his irritation.

The interior car light wavered, then blinked off, shutting out her image.

“Just drive,” Drew said, trying to dismiss her.

But his senses were filled with her. He smelled chocolate, and apples, and Olivia—a floral scent he couldn’t quite identify though it nagged at him, tantalizing, yet innocent and fresh. Soft music played on the radio, flutes and drums—no doubt meant to be soothing—but the rhythm and the rain threatened his last ounce of resistance.

He hadn’t been this close to a woman in five years—and he didn’t plan to start with a delicate blonde with a sweet smile and false bravado. She was obviously too young, early twenties, he guessed, and she made him feel every single one of his thirty-two years. He’d gone into prison a cocky young man and come out older. The gap between them was more than years and couldn’t be breached.

An awkward silence fell between them, splitting the air with tension. They drove north, at times passing a town, a blur on the landscape. Long stretches of open farmland and deep dark forests that looked dense and forbidding at night whizzed by.

At an intersection, her voice startled him. “I forgot to ask—you are going to Henderson?”

“Yes.”

“Are you staying long?”

So now they were going to make conversation. “Only a few days. That’s it.”

“Oh.” After a couple more failed attempts at conversation, she subsided into silence.

Drew preferred that to expanding their acquaintance. A relationship—even a fleeting one—wasn’t in the cards. Nevertheless, he was aware of her. A few miles later, when she visibly drooped, he noticed. “Why don’t I take over?”

The offer surprised Olivia.

“Thank you. I could use a break,” she said, grateful for his consideration. She was exhausted.

They traded places. Olivia slid along the seat, while Drew got out and went around to the driver’s side. After adjusting the seat to accommodate his long legs, he shifted the car into gear.

Olivia reached for a blanket from the back seat, then wrapped it around her shoulders. She sighed. Her eyes felt scratchy. Yet she couldn’t sleep. She dreaded going home alone.

Stone’s End would seem empty, the rooms filled with everyday reminders of Ira. Like so many, her memories of him were bittersweet. Nothing in Olivia’s life had ever been simple. From the first, Ira had seen past her flimsy defenses.

Through some hereditary alchemy, he’d recognized a certain trait in her and known how desperately she wanted to belong, how much she loved Stone’s End and everyone there—long before she knew it herself. Over the last four years, she’d grown to love Ira Carlisle; she thought he loved her. But then, he left the will, and now she wasn’t so sure.

Why did love always have conditions?

Why wasn’t she ever enough?

Earlier that day, she’d consulted a lawyer who termed the situation “awkward,” as if finding a husband to meet the terms of her father’s will was nothing more than an easy stroll down the aisle with a besotted bridegroom. Olivia had seen what love could do, and undo. Far better to rely on herself. In any case, there was no groom in sight, besotted or otherwise.

She had every reason to avoid marriage. Her parents were divorced before she was born. Among her mother’s many marriages, the one to Mike DeAngelis had been the most stable, but even that hadn’t lasted long—just long enough for Mike to adopt Olivia when she was ten. He’d given her a sense of security for the first time in her life. Out of loyalty, she still used his name.

She stifled a yawn, regretting that she’d changed her mind about staying overnight in Bangor and canceled her hotel reservation. Only hours ago, she’d waved her brother, his wife and their four children off at the airport. They’d be back in mid-December at the end of the Cornell University semester. She was going to miss them!

Nevertheless, she’d urged Jared to go when he offered to cancel his plans to present a wildlife lecture series, part of a prestigious grant connected to his veterinary practice.

Jared was concerned about her. Before leaving, he’d asked her not to do anything rash to comply with Ira’s will. Olivia had promised. Now she cast a guilty glance in her companion’s direction, wondering—did Drew Pierce come under the heading of something rash? Thank goodness Jared wasn’t here.

Shifting uneasily, Olivia stared out the window at the passing night. Although the foliage was still at its peak, a few bare limbs marked the passage of autumn, the coming of winter. At first sight, she’d fallen in love with Maine’s unspoiled beauty. With more experience, she’d learned it could be daunting. Just as the wind could steal your breath, the winter could steal your soul.

Despite that, she loved it with a fierceness she couldn’t quite explain. Like Stone’s End, it was in her blood. She frowned at the thought and tried to deny the intensity of her feelings. In her experience, opening up and caring that much about anything, or anyone, always invited emotional chaos.

Now, deliberately shutting out her companion, Olivia leaned her head back and closed her eyes, just for a minute.

Some time later, when the car stopped, she sat up abruptly. “Are we home?” One glance at Drew’s grim expression told her something was wrong.

He turned to look at her, his dark gaze apologetic. “No such luck. It’s the battery again.”

Was this a recurring bad dream?

“But you fixed it.” She twisted in her seat to stare at him. “It was working fine.”

Drew released a harsh breath. “A temporary fix. You probably need a new battery.”

“Where can we get one?” She looked out the window. They were in the middle of nowhere. “Where are we?”

“We just drove through Stillwater.”

Suddenly aware that the temperature in the car had dropped several degrees, Olivia shivered. “We’re still miles from Henderson.”

He nodded, saying impatiently, “You’re half-frozen. We can’t stay here. I know a place nearby, a summer cabin.”

She looked at him in dismay. “Do you think it’s wise to go wandering around the forest in the dark?”

“It may be overgrown, but there used to be a path. I think I can find it.”

At a glance, the woods looked thick and dark. Although her car had let her down, Olivia clung to the familiar safety. “But shouldn’t we stay right here and wait for help?”

“Look, we can’t stay here. I haven’t seen another car on this road in over an hour. So you can forget about anyone coming to our rescue. That gives us two options.”

Options—that didn’t sound too awful. “What are they?”

“We can sit here and argue all night, with the temperature dropping below freezing, and risk hypothermia. Or we can go to this cabin. It’s pretty basic, but we can get a fire going.”

Aware that she was quickly running out of excuses not to venture out into the night, Olivia argued, “But if you haven’t been there in a while, how do you know it’s still standing?”

“It’s sturdy, built of logs, and it’s been around for more than fifty years. It’s not going anywhere.” His patience worn thin after the lengthy explanation, Drew climbed out of the car. “We can walk. It’s not far.”

After a moment’s hesitation, she followed.

Drew knew his way around cars—fast cars and fast women. He had a bad feeling about this one—the car, not the woman. Or maybe both, if he was honest. In any case, he suspected there might be something seriously wrong with her car, something more complicated than a dead battery. The car had gradually lost power. He’d coaxed it up the last hill before it came to a dead stop. Now they were stuck.

He waited while Olivia tucked a few candy bars in her pocket, then reached for her purse and her umbrella. Juggling all three, she wrapped the wool blanket around her, then opened her umbrella. A strong gust of wind tore it out of her hand. It took off, twisting and twirling down the road, round and round, like a spinning top.

“Oh!” She tripped in her attempt to retrieve it.

“Leave it.” Drew took her hand, surprised at how it fit.

They walked.

At least he was on familiar ground. There was a lake nearby, more cabins. Logging roads crisscrossed the area. He was familiar with those. Squinting into the darkness, he looked around for a landmark. His gaze fell on a break in the solid line of pine trees edging the road.

Locating a road overgrown with leafy ferns, he ducked under a branch, Olivia at his heels. Within the forest, tall pines provided some shelter from the rain. Everything smelled damp.

And fresh.

Washed new.

“This looks right,” he said to assure her.

“It does?” Olivia peered into the dark gloomy woods.

He murmured back, “Mmm.”

The wind carried a bite.

Left with little choice but to go where Drew led, Olivia plodded on through the thick brush. He obviously knew his way—as if he had an inner compass. Olivia stumbled, catching her breath when he caught her waist and righted her on the path. She didn’t find her voice until he released her.

“Thanks,” she murmured huskily.

“Watch your step.” With that instruction, he moved on, obviously expecting her to follow in his wake.

“Me Tarzan, you Jane,” she muttered under her breath.

She might have laughed, except that she didn’t think he’d appreciate the joke. So far, she hadn’t found any evidence of his having a sense of humor. He was outdoorsy and rugged—a handy man to have around under the circumstances. Trying to imagine some of her artsy friends back in San Francisco coping in a similar situation, she smiled.

He caught her expression and frowned. “What’s so funny?”

Olivia gulped. “Nothing at all.”

Clearly he didn’t see any humor in their situation. When he looked at her like that, all dark-browed and glowering, she didn’t, either. He turned back to the path, and she released a frustrated sigh. Make that outdoorsy, rugged and moody. She plodded on, pushing aside a branch.

It snapped.

The sound echoed through the night.

Olivia shivered.

The road was full of deep ruts. It went nowhere, except deeper into the woods. With each step, images of lurid newspaper headlines filled her imagination. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, it was just that…well, she wasn’t a complete idiot.

She laughed nervously. “I should warn you my father was a cop in San Francisco. He taught me how to defend myself.”

Drew grunted something unintelligible.

Despite the lack of response, she persisted. “He taught me how to use a gun.”

“So you’re armed and dangerous?”

Olivia stiffened at the challenge in his voice. “I don’t carry a gun with me. But I do have a can of mace in my purse. And I have a black belt in karate. So don’t try anything.”

At that deliberate challenge, he stopped and turned to glance at her. “Is that supposed to frighten me?”

Olivia caught the cynical twist in his smile and regretted that she’d put it there. “Well, I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” She laughed, realizing he could probably recognize the fake note.

Unfortunately Drew didn’t feel like laughing back. “You are really something.” There was dry irony in his voice. He should have known Olivia DeAngelis was too good to be true.

All that sweet innocence and trust had disappeared at the first sign of trouble. He supposed he had to get used to that now that he had a prison record. As if matters couldn’t get worse, her stepfather had been a cop!

He turned back to the path.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” she said at his back after a moment of strained silence.

“You didn’t.” He smiled tightly. “In fact, it’s a relief to know that if there’s any trouble, you can defend yourself against all threats, even bears.”

Her voice wavered, suddenly unsure.

“What bears?”

Drew laughed. “You never know. One might come along.”

“You’re just trying to frighten me.” Despite the bravado, she picked up the pace, walking close to his back where the road narrowed into a single overgrown track. “There aren’t really any bears, are there?”

“They rummage around these woods for food, both day and night. It doesn’t help that the tourists feed them.”

“Oh.” Clearly alarmed, she pressed a hand to the candy bars in her pocket; she was a walking target.

“You needn’t worry.” He waited to hear her faint sigh of relief before he added, “Just stay close.”

Olivia bit back a retort. If that was meant to be reassuring, it wasn’t. In fact, given a choice, she didn’t know who posed the biggest threat to her safety and peace of mind—Drew Pierce or a ravenous bear, who might or might not have an appetite for her.

Drew stopped suddenly.

With her head down, Olivia walked right into his back. It felt solid, warm. She looked around his shoulder.

A cabin was visible in a clearing. At first glance, it looked abandoned. Built out of logs, it was rustic, long and low, and surprisingly large. There were No Trespassing signs posted all over the place.

Olivia frowned. “It’s private property. We can’t just break into the place.”

Ignoring her, Drew found a key under the mat, then opened the door and entered. “I know the owners. They won’t mind.” At the evidence of recent use, he added, “Looks like someone’s been using it as a hunting camp.”

Once inside, Olivia took note of the sparse furnishings—a lopsided oak table and chairs, a sofa, plus two cots, one on each wall. She didn’t dwell on the sleeping arrangements. A door to the left probably led to a kitchen. She hoped there was a bathroom.

Drew found an oil lamp and lit a match to it. The small light wavered, throwing the corners of the room in shadow.

Olivia asked, “Do you hunt?”

“I used to.” Drew didn’t explain that he’d stopped hunting years ago after he accidentally shot a neighbor’s dog. The Carlisles had never forgiven him for that…and other things too numerous to mention.

The sight of Olivia still wrapped in her wool blanket brought him back to the present. She looked frozen. He raked out some leaves, then set some tinder and a few logs on the fireplace grate. He lit it with a match from a box that sat on the mantel, and soon had a fire blazing.

A neatly piled stack of wood stood beside the fire-place.

“That should see you through the next few hours,” he said with satisfaction. “There’s a generator housed in a shed out back, but I don’t think you’ll need it.”

Olivia latched on to the one small detail he’d failed to explain. “Where are you going?”

“To see if I can dig up a mechanic. Stillwater’s only a few miles back the way we came.”

“But it’s raining,” she objected.

He headed for the door. “It’s either that, or spend the night here.”

Olivia’s gaze skittered over the narrow cots. She backed away, wrapping the blanket tighter. “I’ll be fine.”

Nevertheless, she followed him out to the covered porch.

Since first setting eyes on Drew Pierce, she’d felt threatened; now she felt more alarmed by his imminent departure.

Perhaps sensing her unease, Drew looked back. “Don’t go wandering around on your own in the dark. There’s a lake nearby and some ledges.”

“I won’t.” She didn’t want to fall. Warning taken.

He smiled. “Then there are the bears.”

She smiled back. “I’ve got my spray can of mace.”

He laughed, sounding so masculine and sure. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

She nodded.

Despite the urge to cling, Olivia let him go. Although she had no guarantee, she didn’t think he’d leave her stranded. In fact, he’d probably send someone back to get her; but she didn’t expect much more consideration from him. After all, he didn’t owe her anything. She knew how easily people broke their promises.

Her less-than-ideal childhood had left Olivia wary and afraid to trust. She and her mother had lived in so many places, one step ahead of an eviction notice. Despite all the setbacks, large or small, Avis had always managed to bounce back. Olivia had recognized but never fully understood her mother’s false air of gaiety until she was old enough to appreciate the cost of her mother’s freedom.

Olivia was still paying the emotional price.

How many times had her mother left her small daughter at a friend’s house while she took off with the latest man in her life? Olivia never knew when, or if, Avis would be back. For the most part, people had been kind. But sometimes, even the most generous of friends had grown impatient with being saddled with a child for long periods of time. Olivia had learned to read the signs when her welcome wore off.

Now as she watched Drew walk away and disappear into the gloomy night, she recalled all the other promises to come back that hadn’t been kept. She had no intention of falling for a man’s promises. She sighed. It was the perfect ending to a frustrating day.

Chapter Three

D rew didn’t look back. The long walk into the nearest town cleared his head. Heaven knew, he needed it. Stillwater hadn’t changed much, he noted. Built around a quaint town square, it was vintage New England.

A clear, crystal-blue lake provided recreational activities and drew tourists year-round. The fall foliage season was now in full swing, which meant that every hotel and motel within miles was probably filled to capacity. The town was all a bit too familiar.

Drew had misspent his youth here, then lived through more years than he cared to admit regretting that turbulent period. He’d grown up in the neighboring town of Henderson. At the age of eighteen, like a lot of restless teens, he’d thought his home-town was too small to hold him.

So he’d gone looking for some excitement in Stillwater, which was equally small, but the scenery was different, especially the girls. He’d found one girl he thought was special, but she’d proved him wrong. The scars from that experience had lingered a long time.

Now, through some stroke of misfortune, he was linked up with Olivia, who was clearly bad luck—as if he couldn’t come up with enough of his own. It continued.

For one thing, the gas station was closed. But they had an emergency phone number. Drew dialed it on a pay phone and got quick results. A mechanic agreed to come out with a tow truck—just in case.

While Drew waited for the man to arrive, he leaned his shoulder against the phone booth. A short overhang sheltered him from the rain. His gaze wandered down Main Street, drawn to the Stillwater Inn. The place had a new front, new owners. But it was still rustic, overlooking the lake. The water lapped at the dock.

Long ago, he’d fallen in love with a waitress from the Stillwater Inn. They’d both been hotheaded, rebellious and far too young to handle their emotions. As a result, they’d argued, broken up and made up so many times that he lost count. And in between one of those times, Laurel slept with another guy.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

She’d tried to trap Drew into marriage by claiming the child she was expecting was his—instead of Jared Carlisle’s. She’d died tragically young and left her twin sister, Rachel, to raise Dylan. Drew winced at the memory. Laurel had done more than damage his ego. The hell of it was, he might have given in to impulse and married her if she hadn’t lied. In the end, his father paid her off. She’d wanted the Pierce money, not Drew.

At least he didn’t have to worry about that anymore. For too long, he’d relied on his family’s wealth and position. With it, he was nothing—a spoiled, arrogant young man. Without it, he didn’t know who he was.

Fifteen minutes later, the repair truck pulled up to the curb. A mechanic called out, “You the guy with a breakdown?”

Drew smiled. He was close. “Yeah, that’s me. I checked the car battery. It won’t hold a charge.”

“Well, let’s go have a look. You coming?” he added when Drew didn’t make a move toward the truck.

Drew wasn’t sure of his next move. In all honesty, he was tempted to give the guy directions and be on his way, but the memory of a woman’s resigned smile stopped him. Olivia had rightly guessed he was a loner; she probably thought he was a loser, as well. Under the circumstances, he couldn’t argue either label, which should free him from obligation.

She obviously didn’t expect him back. He didn’t know why she didn’t expect more from men, or from life. But for some reason, he wanted to prove her wrong, at least in this instance.

The mechanic said curtly, “You coming? I don’t have all night.” The man’s impatience did it.

With a resigned sigh, Drew climbed into the truck. He didn’t like the thought of Olivia dealing with the situation on her own. Face it, he felt protective. He frowned at the admission, not liking that at all. After today, he was never going to see her again. Until then, what was a few more hours of inconvenience?

“You’re Drew Pierce,” the mechanic said after they’d been driving awhile. His gaze remained fixed on the two-lane highway.

“Yes.” Drew braced himself for the rest.

“I remember seeing your picture in the newspapers.”

That wasn’t surprising. The trial had been a three-ring circus. Instead of reacting to the man’s open challenge, Drew raised a casual eyebrow. “That so?”

When Drew failed to react, the man backed down. “Yeah, well…guess it was long ago. Most folks have forgotten.”

Drew doubted that very much. Small towns had long memories and even longer grudges. He had vivid memories of faces filled with hatred and contempt. The judge had thrown the book at Drew, giving him the maximum sentence. Well, he’d served his time. He wasn’t about to defend himself all over again.

“That’s the car.” Drew spotted the small blue car, relieved to cut the subject short.

It didn’t take long to install a new battery.

Drew turned the key in the ignition. Nothing.

With a shake of his head, the mechanic pronounced, “The car’s in rough shape. It needs some other new parts.” He listed just a few. “I can order them. Could take some time, though.”

“It’s not my car.” Drew frowned as the awkwardness of the situation began to sink in. He didn’t have money for repairs. In addition, he wasn’t going anywhere that night. Neither was Olivia. They were stranded. “You can ask the owner.”

The man frowned in confusion. “Fine with me. Where?”

“Back there.” Drew nodded toward the rough logging road.

Fortunately, the tow truck had four-wheel drive. When they reached the camp, Drew was surprised to see the place softly lit. Smoke came from the chimney, and Olivia stood in the door.

Waiting.

“Hi.” She smiled a warm greeting, all flushed-faced and sleepy-eyed, and Drew could feel himself falling, tumbling—

The mechanic broke the spell. “Looks like you got a cozy setup here.” He was leering at Olivia.

Drew shoved his hands in his pockets. He wanted to hit the guy. Instead, he took a deep breath, admitting that the man’s reaction was only natural. Olivia was a sight to behold. He couldn’t deny his own gut response. Since the first moment he set eyes on her, he’d wanted to punch every man who looked at Olivia—which was pure insanity. Or something else. Whatever it was, he’d get over it.

The mechanic introduced himself. “Hi, I’m Walt.”

Olivia smiled that megawatt smile. “How do you do, Walt?”

Now the mechanic had a name.

Drew liked him less and less.

The door opened wider.

Olivia hid her pleasure at Drew’s return, instinctively protecting herself until she could control her response. Half-asleep, she’d heard the sound of an engine, at first surprised, then relieved to see Drew. Perhaps that was why her heart was racing. Despite all the inner alarm bells issuing a warning, she liked him.

And he was proving more dependable than a lot of men.

Could he be the solution to all her problems?

“Won’t you come in?” She tried to focus her attention on the mechanic, deeply aware of Drew when he moved to stand near the fireplace, unbuttoning his jacket, then leaning his shoulder against the mantel. “Do you think you can fix my car, Walt?”

Entering the rustic cabin, Walt took off his hat. “That’s what we have to talk about. I replaced the battery—that’s part of the problem, but not all. I can get new parts, but it will take a day—or two.”

“Are the parts expensive?”

Walt named his price, assuring her it was fair. “In the meantime, I can give you a lift to town. Don’t know if you’ll find a room, though. Things are pretty well booked up with tourists.” He scratched his head. “Wish I could be more help.”

Mentally calculating the cost of parts, plus labor, plus towing costs—the list kept growing—Olivia knew she could afford a motel room or car repairs, but not both.

“I suppose we could stay here.” She glanced at Drew. “I mean, we are here. And there’s no sense looking for a place for just one night, is there?” When he raised an eyebrow, she rushed on. “It’s warm and dry.” And free. “What do you think?”

Drew shrugged. “Guess that settles it.”

Olivia smiled in relief. “Guess so.”

For a moment, their gazes met, a head-on collision. Olivia flushed at the expression in his eyes. Odd how they could agree so completely, yet leave so many questions unanswered.

“Well, if you’re sure,” Walt said a moment later when he turned to leave.

“We’re sure,” Drew said dryly.

Walt gave Drew a lift back to the car to get his backpack and Olivia’s one piece of luggage, which she’d brought in case she’d decided to stay overnight in Bangor. Drew couldn’t help wishing she had—they might never have met.

After seeing Walt off, Drew walked back to the cabin, where he turned on the generator before going inside. He found Olivia asleep on one of the cots. She’d removed all but the white tailored shirt and set her clothes out to dry.

Wrapped in a blanket, cocooned, with her arms curled around a pillow, she looked so young. Pale shadows lined her eyes; she looked exhausted. Yet she’d never complained. Not once. Her insistence on looking at the bright side of the situation was almost comical. It was also touching.

Tearing his gaze away, Drew frowned, not liking the direction of his thoughts. He looked around the room. She’d found some sheets and a blanket and made up his cot. It looked narrow, meant for one, not all that inviting.

With a weary sigh, Drew took off his jacket, then stripped down before he dropped onto the cot. It felt lumpy and hard, but he’d slept on worse. He closed his eyes. A room, at least fifteen feet wide, separated him from Olivia.

A warm fire crackled in the grate. A log fell. Wind battered the small log building. Rain hit the metal roof. Then there was Olivia.

He could hear her breathing.

How the hell was he supposed to sleep?

Hours later the sun poured through the dusty windows.

Olivia awoke, disoriented at first, to find herself wrapped in her wool blanket, instead of her familiar quilt. Her face flushed with heat when her gaze landed on her roommate. Drew was asleep. He lay flat on his back. With the morning light pouring through the window, Olivia took in his broad shoulders, his broad muscled chest covered with coarse dark hair.

Black stubble covered his chin. His facial features were perfectly aligned, almost too beautiful for a man, except for the strength in his square jaw. In sleep he looked younger, more vulnerable, but his brow was wrinkled in a frown, as if his dreams brought him no peace.

Hastily Olivia looked away, aware that she’d invaded some private area. Somehow she knew he wouldn’t appreciate the intrusion.

At the sight of her small overnight case on the table, Olivia rose, picked up the case and tiptoed from the room. The night before, she’d discovered a utilitarian bathroom. She flipped on a light switch, pleased to note that Drew must have turned on the generator, which meant there was hot water.

Olivia showered in the small metal cubicle, then dressed in the clothes she’d worn yesterday to impress her lawyer with her maturity. She needn’t have bothered. He’d advised her to find a husband, adding, “A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have a problem.” Like most men, he refused to look past the feminine package.

Admittedly she was guilty of using that package to her advantage on occasion, but she had no respect for men she could manipulate, which was one more reason to appreciate Drew Pierce. She knew he was attracted to her, but he seemed equally determined not to do act on it. Olivia slowly buttoned her shirt.

She couldn’t deny the obvious—Drew Pierce could be the solution to all her problems. Since he was “just passing through” as he put it, she wondered if he’d be willing to stick around Henderson long enough to attach his name to a marriage certificate.

There was no provision in the will stating they had to live together. In six months the marriage could be annulled. No strings and no one would get hurt.

She wondered if Drew could be bought, then recoiled at the idea of even asking him to marry her. But what if? What if she asked and what if he said yes? She trembled. Would she be willing to pay the price?

In her heart, the part of her that always remained carefully guarded, Olivia knew that marriage should be a permanent bond, but things didn’t always work out as they should.

From what she knew about Drew’s past, she doubted if he had many romantic illusions that might get in the way, or many scruples, for that matter. But then, what did she know about him? His critics were harsh, but she sensed there was more to him than gossip revealed.

Perhaps it was unwise, but she couldn’t deny that something in Drew aroused her sympathy. Her stepfather had been a cop. She’d had enough exposure to the criminal justice system to know that it broke some men. She wondered how Drew had survived it. Had it left him hurt and wounded in some way? Did that account for his long silences, his lack of warmth?

Olivia turned away, uncomfortable with the thought, and headed into the kitchen. She reached for a pot and started to hum….

Drew awoke abruptly.

He wasn’t sure what had disturbed him. But his first thought was that this was day four. His fourth day of freedom! With his eyes closed, he could hear the blessed sound of silence. It was interrupted by the sound of a woman’s soft humming.

Drew frowned, recalling his present situation—all the inconveniences, delays and disruptions—and they all had to do with Olivia DeAngelis. He could hear her puttering around the kitchen, opening cupboards, rattling pots and pans. When a teakettle whistled, he almost jumped out of his skin.

With a groan, Drew pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt. Not in the mood to face Olivia’s early-morning chirpiness, he slipped out the front door.

The storm had cleared the air. The air was cool and crisp and dry. The breeze felt good. Drew raised his gaze to the treetops scraping a brilliant blue sky. The sun filtered through, setting the maple leaves on fire. Nature’s celebration.

But autumn was all illusion, a time when nature signaled the end of a green growing season with bright gaudy displays of color, a time when life seemed exaggerated and desperate. As each day narrowed, there were clear signs that winter was on its way. It could be beautiful, but brutal, if you were unprepared…if you were alone. And Drew had forfeited every close tie.

Olivia interrupted his downward mood. “Good morning.” She’d come outside bearing gifts—a steaming mug of coffee.

“Morning,” he said, taking her in at a glance. A calf-length green skirt had replaced her tight black jeans—which was a relief. But when she moved, the skirt “swished” and he was lost again, enchanted by her intrinsic femininity. The coffee was strong. He took a bracing swallow.

“Do you need sugar?”

“No.” His voice sounded husky.

She smiled. “That’s just as well. There isn’t any. Apart from that,” she said, as if he had a burning desire to know each domestic detail, “the kitchen’s pretty well stocked. I found some coffee and powdered milk.”

He lifted his cup. “So I see.”

“There are some canned goods. I checked the expiration dates and they’re all safe. I was going to make pancakes for breakfast, but there aren’t any eggs. There is such a thing as powdered eggs, but I suppose that would be expecting too much.” She laughed, her eyes bright and alive. She was so alive. “How do you feel about canned hash or baked beans for breakfast?”

More choices.

Drew took another gulp of coffee. “Hash sounds good.”

“Tuna casserole for lunch?”

He nodded, but didn’t dare ask what went into that besides the tuna. She continued to chatter.

When she ran out of menu items, she started on Drew. “So what do you do—for work, I mean?”

He said dryly, “Let’s just say I’m between jobs at the moment.” Had he actually ever held down a real job, one that wasn’t manufactured for him, one that he cared about?

Olivia chuckled. “Any particular field?”

He shrugged. “Not really.” He had a college degree in forestry gathering dust somewhere, not that it amounted to much. “How about you? What do you do?”

Unconsciously provocative, with the breeze playing with the hem of her skirt, she stared at him with her wide-spaced gray eyes. Her eyelashes were long and lush, fanning her flushed cheeks. “I’m a hooker.”

Drew choked on his coffee, gulping in air when he finally recovered his voice. “What did you say?”

Clearly pleased to have captured his full attention, she repeated, “I’m a hooker. I hook rugs. You know, cut and dyed, originally designed, handcrafted wool rugs?” She laughed at his expression. “I have an art degree, which doesn’t earn much in this part of Maine. I’m not cut out for the starving artist-in-a-garret route, so I had to find something practical to do. I do all kinds of needlecrafts, as well.”

“And that pays the bills?”

“Yes.” A mischievous dimple played around her pursed mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shock you.” The little witch didn’t look sorry at all; in fact, she looked downright smug.

“You didn’t shock me,” he said, trying not to laugh.

Her gray eyes twinkled. “Oh, yes, I did.”

He considered kissing that sassy mouth, then thought better of it. “You do know that kind of talk could land you in a hell of a lot of trouble in certain circles.”

The fact that she felt safe with him had registered.

She shrugged. “It’s only a joke. Most people think it’s pretty funny.”

His gaze ran over her, every delectable inch. He shook his head, marveling at her innocence. “You’re lucky it was me. Not one of those guys at that diner last night.”

Olivia didn’t feel lucky. In fact, she felt odd, and her pulse had quickened with the sweep of his dark eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, wondering why she was apologizing. Maybe the joke was on her. She’d felt his scorching glance—which only made her more aware of his maleness…and her helpless response.

But at least he was smiling!

Flustered, Olivia looked past him to the surrounding forest. “It’s so beautiful out here. Have you ever seen a tree with leaves that shade of banana gold?” she asked, knowing she sounded like a tourist. “What is it?”

He chuckled. “That’s a birch tree. Where did you live in California?” He leaned against the porch rail, looking at her.

Under that lingering gaze, Olivia felt herself flushing. “I grew up in lots of places before winding up in San Francisco.” She smiled, unaware that it was wistful, remembering the frequent moves and upheavals of her childhood. Her mother was always looking for something better than what she had, something different. Many times, Olivia had felt like the grown-up.

“Do you have family in California?” he asked.

“There’s no one close.” She shook her head.

“Not anymore. How about your family?”

Drew looked away. “They’re scattered around. We don’t stay in touch.” He knew it was the perfect opening. He should tell her about his situation.

Part of him wished she knew about his past, and part of him dreaded her finding out, especially from someone else. He should tell her. When he didn’t add any details, she turned toward the house.

“Well, I should do something about a meal,” she said. And suddenly he wanted to call her back.

But the moment passed.

After breakfast, Drew felt restless, confined. He decided to go for a walk, just because he could.

When informed of his plan, Olivia tilted her head. “That sounds like fun. Mind if I join you?”

Drew hid his irritation. “Sure.” He didn’t know how to stop her—short of locking her in the cabin—or telling her she couldn’t come. And somehow he couldn’t do either.

He grabbed his denim jacket, then waited while she took a jacket from her case. She pulled it on, tugging at the sleeve. The jacket was a tapestry of richly colored floral embroidery.

He recognized her unique touch. “Did you make that?”

She nodded, “Mmm.” Obviously a girl of many talents.

Outside, a breeze caught her hair. Bright leaves fell all around, carpeting the ground in colors of red, gold and russet. The crunch of dry leaves under Drew’s feet felt familiar. As a youth, he’d felt a special affinity for the woods. As he grew older, he’d forgotten that—just one of the things he’d taken for granted and ignored when it was his for the taking. Perhaps in his arrogance, a man could only appreciate the things that were hard-won. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of pine and woods.

They followed a path down to the crystal-clear lake. With Olivia tagging along, Drew soon realized that a silent communion with nature wasn’t in the cards. She was full of information.

Her chatter irritated him at first; but then the gentle rhythm of feminine tones soothed a loneliness he’d never acknowledged. A deep well that had never been filled. The realization startled him. He’d never thought of a woman as a companion. A soul mate. Perhaps if he had, he might have had better luck finding one.

She sighed, drawing his attention back. She was a feast for the eyes—eyes that had only seen drab concrete walls for so long. Like spun gold, yellow birch leaves fluttered down around her. “I was hoping to see some wildlife,” she said.

He chuckled. “Hush, you’re scaring them all away.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, then turned her toward the water’s edge. “Just wait a few minutes, then you’ll see.”

She leaned back slightly, and Drew caught his breath at the brush of her skirt against his thigh.

As predicted, before long, a doe with her fawn appeared, taking dainty steps out of the woods. They stopped by the water, dipping their heads to drink. Under his hands, Olivia stood absolutely still—until the doe prodded her offspring back up the steep bank and into the woods.

“How absolutely beautiful,” she whispered.

She turned, standing close. Her breasts were a tantalizing inch from his chest. All it took was one deep breath. At the physical contact, her lips parted on a small gasp.

“Olivia,” he murmured her name. Like a starving man, he wanted to drag her close and kiss her—taste her—but he knew he wouldn’t stop there.

Slowly releasing her, he stepped back.

Revealing her confusion, her hand shook as she brushed her hair back from her face. “Drew?”

He shook his head, saying harshly, “Nothing. Forget it.”

Without further word, he turned and walked away.

Even if tempted, he had nothing to offer a woman like Olivia. Except himself. And that was never enough for the women he’d known in the past.

They had nowhere to go but back to the cabin. Once fully aroused, he dreaded spending another night alone with Olivia.

Before meeting her, he’d had a plan—go to Henderson, pick up his car, cash out a small trust fund and pick up some clothes. He planned to grab his possessions and go somewhere—he didn’t know where. A woman, no matter how tempting, was no reason to change his plan.

After a moment, Olivia caught up with him. She was silent—now that she’d succeeded in twisting him in knots.

A winding lakeside path took them to the road. About a mile downhill from the camp, they passed a farmer’s market and stopped to buy fresh eggs and milk. Fresh poultry. Some tomatoes. Apples. Drew took out his wallet to pay.

Olivia kept adding items.

Finally she walked toward him with a bouquet of flowers, ruffled hollyhocks in pink, red and purple mixed with lacy-edged white and yellow mums, clutched in her hand.

At the sight of her, Drew felt his chest squeeze. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. There hadn’t been many flowers in his life lately. And maybe that was what was missing.

Along with a few other things.

With a knowing smile, the farmer’s wife accepted his money and commented, “Your girl is very sweet.”

Your girl.

Olivia reached him. “I couldn’t resist the flowers. You don’t mind, do you?”

Mind?

No, in fact, he loved it. At the admission, Drew felt his heart twist like a leaf in the wind…falling. If only their situations were different. If only life would give him a second chance. If only he hadn’t messed up every good thing in his life.

Her face animated with pleasure, Olivia lifted the brilliantly colored flowers to her dainty nose. “They smell delicious.”

“Yes, they do.” Drew smiled back. She’d spent his last dollar on a bunch of flowers. He was down to an uncashed check from his sister and he didn’t care!

Hell!

He must be going soft, getting all sentimental about a woman he’d known less than twenty-four hours—a woman with laughter in her voice, sunshine in her eyes, pale flyaway hair and a come-hither smile that beckoned him to discover her secrets.

Chapter Four

D rew’s smile grew ironic. Oh, he knew he was susceptible, feeling deprived and vulnerable to anything in a skirt. He’d vowed not to seduce the first woman he came across, not even the second or the third.

With one bewitching smile, Olivia made it hard to remember exactly why he’d made such a stupid, impractical vow. She was there to tempt, to tease, to test him. Women had always come so easily, perhaps too easily. No matter how he tried to deny it, he couldn’t help but wonder—would she?

They were going to be alone for another night. He had no idea how he was going to keep his hands off her. He laughed without humor. The gods must be having a field day.

It was payback time for every indiscretion he’d ever committed—and there was a long string of them. Drew could only assume Olivia was going to drive him crazy for the next twenty-four hours, if he held out that long.

“Let’s head back.” He wished he had an alternative choice, some place to go, but he didn’t.

She checked the items she’d purchased. “I think we’ve got everything.” She waved to the farmer’s wife, who insisted on giving Olivia some fresh cream from the dairy.

“You’ll need some to top off that apple cobbler,” the woman insisted.

Apparently Olivia planned to do some baking. Drew marveled at her easy adaptability.

Olivia waved farewell to her new friend—she obviously had a knack for collecting them—and fell into step beside him. She was so small, reaching only up to his shirt collar. Her step was light, graceful.

All the way back to the cabin, Olivia stuck close to his side—less than a foot away. He felt dizzy from the scent of flowers. More than once, he regretted teasing her about hungry bears. Now he had to endure her nearness.

Then there was her soft voice, the bounce in her step, the gleam in her smile, the soft accidental brush of her hand against his—all guaranteed to wear down his resistance.

Was it all innocent?

Or was it only wishful thinking on his part?

They walked back to the cabin along the same track they’d found the day before. The woods were thick, endless, stretching in every direction. It would be easy to get lost in them.

The cabin greeted them like an old friend.

Built of roughhewn logs, weathered and burnished to a soft gray, it glowed in the midday sun. The sunny glen seemed far from the immediate past.

And the future.

He had today. All anyone had really. Who knew what tomorrow would bring? He smiled wryly, admitting that Olivia’s optimism was beginning to rub off on him.

She made lunch.

Either he was starving, or it was the best tuna casserole he’d ever eaten. Chin in hand, with her elbow leaning against the edge of the table, Olivia inched the serving dish closer.

“There’s more,” she offered.

Recognizing that enticing feminine note, Drew pushed away from the table and stood. “No, thank you.”

It would take more than a combination of canned tuna, condensed mushroom soup and noodles to seduce him.

He grabbed for an escape hatch. “The farmer’s wife took quite a shine to you. I’m sure she’d let you stay the night.”

At the suggestion, Olivia shook her head. “But I don’t know her. I can’t just intrude. Besides, I’m comfortable here.”

Drew had only known Olivia for one day—it felt longer—but he recognized that stubborn tilt to her chin. Knowing he was fighting a losing battle, he persisted. “Hasn’t it occurred to you by now that you shouldn’t trust me?”

She smiled at him. “But I do trust you. If you intended me any harm, you’d have done something about it by now.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Well, you’ve left behind a trail of witnesses, starting back at the diner. Then there’s Walt, and the farmer’s wife.”

“Spoken like a true cop’s daughter,” he said with an edge, frustrated at his inability to simply walk away from her.

Shrugging off his bad humor, Olivia started to gather the dishes. “So what are we going to do with the rest of the day?”

We?

Drew raised an eyebrow. “Not bored already, are you?”

“Not exactly, but I like to keep busy. I wish I’d brought some needlework with me. I never expected this kind of delay.”

She looked around. “This place could use a good cleaning.”

“Why bother?” As usual, the feminine mind was a mystery.

“I could start on the windows—after the dishes, of course.”

With a smooth move, she shoved a stack of plates, cups and saucers at him. “What’s this?” he asked.

“Dishes. You wash and I’ll dry,” she said.

“Right.” He looked down at the messy collection. He’d never washed a dish in his life!

At his hesitation, Olivia frowned. “That is, unless you’d rather dry?”

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