“I couldn’t have gotten through this without you, Stephanie.”

“Oh, you would have managed all right.”

“I don’t think so. You’re the first person I thought of to help out down here. I can see now my instinct was right.”

He lifted his hand slowly and touched her hair. “You have such beautiful hair. I’ve never seen it down like this.” His words were quiet, practically a whisper.

“It gets in the way.”

He laughed lightly at her answer. “I’d imagine that the problem is more like men get in the way,” he replied. “This one can’t resist….”

Her impossibly handsome boss was about to kiss her.

And she was going to let him.

Was this really happening to her?

Dear Reader,

No matter what the weather is like, I always feel like March 1st is the beginning of spring. So let’s celebrate that just-around-the-corner thaw with, for starters, another of Christine Rimmer’s beloved BRAVO FAMILY TIES books. In The Bravo Family Way, a secretive Las Vegas mogul decides he “wants” a beautiful preschool owner who’s long left the glittering lights and late nights of Vegas behind. But she hadn’t counted on the charms of Fletcher Bravo. No woman could resist him for long….

Victoria Pade’s The Baby Deal, next up in our FAMILY BUSINESS continuity, features wayward son Jack Hanson finally agreeing to take a meeting with a client—only perhaps he got a little too friendly too fast? She’s pregnant, and he’s…well, he’s not sure what he is, quite frankly. In Judy Duarte’s Call Me Cowboy, a New York City girl is in desperate need of a detective with a working knowledge of Texas to locate the mother she’s never known. Will she find everything she’s looking for, courtesy of T. J. “Cowboy” Whittaker? In She’s the One, Patricia Kay’s conclusion to her CALLIE’S CORNER CAFÉ series, a woman who’s always put her troublesome younger sister’s needs before her own finds herself torn by her attraction to the handsome cop who’s about to place said sister under arrest. Lois Faye Dyer’s new miniseries, THE MCCLOUDS OF MONTANA, which features two feuding families, opens with Luke’s Proposal. In it, the daughter of one family is forced to work together with the son of the other—with very unexpected results! And in A Bachelor at the Wedding by Kate Little, a sophisticated Manhattan tycoon finds himself relying more and more on his Brooklyn-bred assistant (yeah, Brooklyn)—and not just for business.

So enjoy, and come back next month—the undisputed start of spring….

Gail

A Bachelor at the Wedding
Kate Little

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KATE LITTLE

claims to have lots of experience with romance—“the fictional kind, that is,” she is quick to clarify. She has been both an author and an editor of romance fiction for over fifteen years. She believes that a good romance will make the reader experience all the tension, thrills and agony of falling madly, deeply and wildly in love. She enjoys watching the characters in her books go crazy for each other, but hates to see the blissful couple disappear when it’s time for them to live happily ever after. In addition to writing romance novels, Kate also writes fiction and nonfiction for young adults. She lives on Long Island with her husband and daughter.

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 One

She was so lovely. Beautiful, really.

He hadn’t realized it at first. But now the thought ran through his head every time he looked at her. Some men might not notice her. Some might even find her plain. But some men didn’t have his taste and experience when it came to women.

She wasn’t the flashy type. Not this one, Matt Harding mused. Stephanie Rossi possessed a more subtle, richer kind of beauty. Genuine and unadorned. One that worked on a man. Got under his skin. Into his blood.

He ought to know. If half of what the gossip columnists in this town reported was true, he was one of the city’s richest and most eligible bachelors, and changed beautiful partners as easily as he changed his custom-made suits. While the legend was exaggerated—as legends often are—Matt knew the womanizer image was well earned.

Stephanie Rossi had worked with him nearly a month now. He fully expected that, by now, he’d be accustomed to her looks, and immune to her appeal. But in fact, as the days passed, the affliction had only grown worse. Especially when she flashed that brilliant, heart-stopping smile. A smile that penetrated deep into his soul.

He hated when she was nice to him or seemed on the verge of letting down her guard. That made it so much harder. Sometimes he found himself purposely gruff to keep her at arm’s length. Or maybe growling was just a way of venting pent-up frustrations.

Three weeks on the job and she must think I’m an ogre, a horror. A total…jackass. No help for it. Let her think what she will. He knew he had no choice but to play the role of the tough, impossible-to-please boss.

Luckily, she didn’t smile or relax around him all that much. She certainly hadn’t tried to take advantage of her very advantageous opportunity, working side by side with the hotel chain’s owner. He knew some women would try to exploit the opportunity. Offering more than their professional talents. But not Stephanie Rossi. He’d wager that she didn’t have a conniving bone in her body. The very shapely, tempting body that it was.

She was all business. Professional and impersonal—or at least, trying to make that impression.

Efficient and sharp, but also graced with rare skills for soothing a disgruntled employee or a dissatisfied guest. An invaluable talent in any business setting, but especially a hotel.

When her name was first put forward as the temporary replacement for his personal assistant, Matt had balked. It was sexist of him, but he preferred a male assistant, one he could bellow at when the mood struck without having to manage a tearful outburst, or some other variety of female hysteria. Besides, he knew Stephanie Rossi had only been in her job at the Harding Plaza as an assistant manager in the operations department for barely a month. Even if she was the Wonder Girl her boss claimed, Matt didn’t see how she could come to the executive suite after such a short time. But finally—very doubtful it would work out—he’d agreed to try her for a week.

From day one, she’d been cool and competent—and for a girl born and bred in Brooklyn—a class act all the way. He tested her, even unfairly. But she’d handled the challenges admirably. She was certainly not the chattering, flailing female he’d expected. Far from it. She was so quiet, sometimes he hardly knew she was there. Well, he was always subtly aware of her presence—like a low-frequency vibration—even when she was off in her own office, a thick wall between them.

He’d been thinking about promoting her permanently to the head office. With her brains and management skills, she’d be a great asset to him. He had no doubt.

Just as often he had the impulse to send her packing, back to her regular job in operations. He knew by now that his attraction to her wasn’t wearing off as he’d expected. Quite the opposite. It was growing by the hour, building up speed and momentum. Like a boulder bouncing down a mountainside. Threatening to start an avalanche any minute now.

His regular assistant, Jerry Fields, was out on a medical leave and might not return to work for at least three months. Matt didn’t think he could last, working side by side with Stephanie all that time. After only a week, he was about to blow some crucial male fuse. Every time she gave him that small, inscrutable Mona Lisa smile, he had half a mind to jump her bones.

Impossible, of course. For one thing, he had an ironclad rule about romancing employees. He simply didn’t do it.

Stephanie Rossi was not the first to challenge his vow. Though no woman so far had ever tested his will-power as intensely. And she wasn’t even trying. But Matt was determined. He wouldn’t break down and give in. Not even for this girl, this very rare find. This dark-haired jewel.

Still, he couldn’t help watching her while she sat nearby, completely focused on her work, unaware of his secret scrutiny. Seated in an armchair across from his desk, her lovely features set in an expression of deep concentration, she reviewed a weekly summary of the hotel’s activity. He had a copy of the same report and should have been studying it, too. But his thoughts kept straying, his gaze kept wandering, feasting on the mere sight of her, though he could never get his fill.

He loved the color of her hair. In the late afternoon light that streamed through the large windows behind his desk, her smooth, dark mane was a rich shade of coffee, shimmering with red lights. So far, he’d only seen her wear it in this simple, conservative style, pulled back from her face and twisted in a loose knot just above her nape. A prim, professional look that suited her manner.

He imagined how it would look undone, falling down her back and across her shoulders in a silky cascade. How far would it reach? It looked quite long, rolled up in that complicated twist. It would certainly fall below her shoulders. Her bare shoulders, Matt decided. Her skin was flawless, smooth and fair, and the small pearl earrings she wore perfectly matched the radiant quality of her complexion.

His gaze slowly followed her profile, her high cheekbones, long, straight nose and wide, sensual mouth. Her thick lashes now shadowed her large dark eyes. Eyes that reflected warmth, intelligence and a touching innocence that Matt thought amazing to find in this city. A quality that unraveled him at times.

If it was true that eyes were the windows of the soul, then Stephanie Rossi possessed a beautiful spirit. Not that she was without a sense of humor. At times, she’d surprised him with her witty comebacks, sharp one-liners that effectively put him in line. Normally, he didn’t take any back talk from subordinates. But he did from her, her comments turning his moods into something more…reasonable.

She suddenly looked up at him, curiosity reflected in her shimmering gaze. A faint blush rose in her cheeks. She’d caught him looking at her and she felt self-conscious. He felt self-conscious, too. An unfamiliar reaction. He forced himself to maintain a blank expression.

“Looks like there’s been a small downturn in occupancy this week,” she said.

“Yes, I noticed.” He flipped a page on the report, not really aware of what he was reading.

She glanced at some notes she’d made in the margin of the page. “Gross receipts in room revenue and food service will be off about eight percent this week. But we should make up the difference quickly. There are two weddings booked for the weekend, big society affairs. We’ll have some overflow guests, I’m sure. And the International Association of Journalists is winding up their convention tonight with a banquet in the main ballroom. We’ve already scheduled extra staff at the front desk to get the conference attendees checked out quickly tomorrow.”

Matt nodded, his expression revealing neither approval nor disapproval. Secretly, he marveled at her ability to evaluate this thick package in moments. She also had a fantastic memory for detail. She knew what was happening on-site at any given moment and could anticipate the most improbable glitch. He already trusted her to watch over the daily events, freeing him to attend to larger issues.

Once again, Stephanie had it covered. Their meeting should be over. Yet, he couldn’t quite manage to excuse her. Once he did, she’d be gone. Out of his sight for two entire days. How would he distract himself for the entire weekend, waiting to see her again?

Oh, yes, he had a date. Scheduled to start later this evening, it would probably melt over into Saturday night as well, moving from the city to his house in East Hampton. Matt felt a muscle in his jaw tighten as he pretended to review the report once more. He tried to picture the woman he was presently dating—a stunning entertainment reporter, Jenna Malone. But he couldn’t quite keep the sexy blonde’s face in his mind’s eye….

He noticed Stephanie discreetly check her watch. It was almost six. Late to be kept working on a Friday night. Maybe she had a date, too? The thought of her rushing off to meet some boyfriend—some undeserving, immature punk, he was sure—irritated him. Though he knew he had no right whatsoever.

“Who’ll be on-site tonight for the conference banquet? Tom Daley?” he asked brusquely, naming the head of the banquet department.

“No, I don’t think Tom’s around tonight. His younger boy, Scott, is in a school play.”

Leave it to Stephanie to learn such a small, personal detail. He’d known Daley for five years and could hardly recall that the man had children. She not only knew the kid’s name, but probably knew the name of play and Scott’s role in it.

Matt ran his hand carelessly through his thick, dark hair. He rose abruptly from his chair and walked around to the front of his desk, where Stephanie sat. He sensed her watching him, waiting to see what he would do next. He sensed her tension. Yet she sat totally composed. She wasn’t afraid of him, he realized. She already knew his bark was worse than his bite. Especially where she was concerned.

“Well, someone ought to hang around tonight. Reporters are notorious gossips. We don’t want them bad-mouthing Harding Hotels from here to Timbuktu.”

“Good point. I’ll find someone from Food and Beverage to stand by.” She glanced at her watch again. “It’s late. I’d better get to work on that. Anything else?”

She suddenly rose from her seat and looked up at him. She was standing quite close. Too close for comfort.

He felt an almost overwhelming urge to reach up and touch her cheek, to pull her into his arms. He breathed in the scent she wore, light but spicy and intriguing, an essence that drew him even closer. She stared directly at him; her warm dark gaze made him forget what he was about to say.

He quickly moved away and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

“You should have thought of this banquet issue before, Stephanie. Now you face the problem of finding someone to cover at the last minute.”

She stood in the center of the room, standing very straight with her chin raised at an elegant, courageous tilt. She could take the heat; he’d grant her that. It wasn’t really her fault. It was Tom Daley’s. But of course, Stephanie didn’t shift the blame. She wasn’t the type.

“No problem. If I can’t find anyone from the banquet department, I’ll do it myself,” she said simply.

He pursed his lips. That wasn’t what he’d wanted at all, having her work late on a Friday night, cramping her social life…or was it? God, this woman was driving him crazy. And unlike so many others, she wasn’t even trying.

“It’s Friday night. I’m sure you have plans.”

He hadn’t meant to turn the conversation in a personal direction. The question had just slipped out. Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Yes, I do have plans,” she admitted, slowly, “but I suppose I can…rearrange them in order to stay a bit longer.”

Meet her boyfriend later, she meant. That image was even more vexing. He moved behind his desk and sat down hard in his chair. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“I don’t mind, really.”

Her gaze met his again and he felt his temperature rise. She felt it, too. He was sure of it. He could tell by the way she suddenly looked away and stared down at the carpeting, a faint flush rising on her cheeks. She had the face of a Renaissance beauty, a perfect image from a fifteenth-century masterpiece.

He swallowed hard. He had to get her out of his office. Immediately.

The beep of the intercom interrupted his thoughts. He pressed a button and curtly addressed his secretary. “Yes, what is it?”

“A call for Ms. Rossi, on line three. They said it’s an emergency.”

“For me?” Stephanie’s composed expression turned to alarm. “I can take it in my office.”

“No, go ahead—” he insisted. He handed over the phone receiver and pressed the blinking button on the console.

“Hello?” Stephanie greeted the caller. Her expression at first looked quite concerned, then within moments, relaxed and almost amused.

“Yes, Nana,” he heard her say. “No, it’s all right. He isn’t mad….” She glanced up at him, a small smile playing about her lips, as if they shared a private joke. He smiled back, feeling warm all over.

Stephanie finished the conversation quickly and handed back the phone. “Sorry about that.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Nothing serious.” He could see that she was trying hard not to smile, but finally she couldn’t help herself. “You don’t know my family. Their idea of an emergency is running out of sun-dried tomatoes. Or maybe if one of my sisters can’t make it out to Brooklyn for Sunday dinner.”

Matt laughed. He couldn’t help himself. “You have dinner together every Sunday?”

“More or less. You could set your watch by the antipasto platter. It hits the table at one forty-five, precisely. Right after my parents get back from twelve o’clock mass.”

She was making fun of her family, but she didn’t know what it was to grow up without any feelings of warmth and belonging. His fondest memories of mealtimes were sharing dinner with the servants, down in the kitchen.

“It sounds…very nice. Very traditional.”

Stephanie sighed and smiled again. “I guess. They’re not really that bad. Medical excuses are accepted. If you have a signed note from a doctor.”

He laughed again and Stephanie joined him. “Was that your grandmother?”

She nodded. “She couldn’t reach my cell. My grandmother’s card game was canceled so I don’t have to run out to Brooklyn tonight to babysit for my sister. Nana’s going to take over. So I guess I can stay and oversee the banquet.”

Babysitting for her sister. Those were her Friday night plans. She was a nice woman…too nice for him.

“Your grandmother plays cards?”

Stephanie nodded. “Poker. Five card stud, with her ‘posse’ from the neighborhood. Every Friday night…unless there’s something hot going on at St. Anthony’s with the Golden Age Club. She just plays for pennies. She says games of chance keep your brain cells active.”

Matt smiled and caught Stephanie’s eye. “She sounds like quite a character.”

“Definitely,” Stephanie added with a rueful grin. “Maybe it’s something in the water out there. They’re all pretty nutty if you ask me.”

She tucked the report under her arm, looking ready to conclude the conversation, but he was curious to know more.

“So your family lives in Brooklyn?”

“My parents, grandmother and all four sisters, including the three who are married.”

“You have four sisters?” He smiled at the thought of four more versions of Stephanie. “Your poor father. Imagine paying for all those weddings. He must try to bribe you all to elope.”

“I understand he makes an offer that’s almost too good to refuse,” she quipped. “But so far, all my sisters have gone the traditional route. He gets a break from his cousin who owns a catering hall. My youngest sister, Angie, is getting married a few weeks from now.”

“A spring wedding. That is traditional.” Matt eyed Stephanie. He imagined her going the same route, dressed in a long gown and trailing veil. Cream-colored satin would suit her perfectly. She’d be a vision—no doubt about it.

“That’s four down, one to go,” he tallied aloud.

“I’m not in any hurry.” She shrugged. Something in her offhand tone made him think he may have offended her.

“I didn’t mean to imply that you should be,” he said.

“If only my family shared your opinion,” she confided. “My life would be a lot easier.”

“Really? Do they bother you much about it?”

“Only whenever I speak to them, or see them…or have contact of any form.”

He laughed again, but he could see it bothered her. “That’s not a very modern attitude. What about your career? They should be proud of you. You’re excellent at your job and have a great future. You’ve come a long way for someone your age. I really mean it.”

His praise pleased her. He liked bringing that bright smile to her face. It was the only compliment he’d given her all week, though he knew she deserved to hear much more.

“Thank you, Matt. That’s kind of you to say. But no one has ever accused Dominic and Francesca Rossi of harboring a modern attitude.”

Matt smiled in reply. He fiddled with a silver pen on his desktop. He should just let the conversation go and say good-night. But he was too curious to know more about her. For instance…was her romance with the accountant serious?

“What about your boyfriend? How does he feel about it?” he asked quietly.

Stephanie looked surprised again and he suddenly realized he’d given himself away, at least his knowledge about her private life. He’d asked around about her. He couldn’t help it.

“I’m not seeing anyone special right now.”

He pulled his gaze from hers and stared out the window. “Oh, you’re not? I thought you had mentioned something about a boyfriend at some point?” he said vaguely.

“I don’t think so. I just broke up with someone. It was a long relationship. We knew each other from grade school. But I don’t think I ever mentioned it….”

Her voice trailed off on a puzzled note.

He cleared his throat. “Maybe not…I guess I confused you with someone else.” He sat up in his high-backed leather chair. “Well, these things happen. Usually, it’s all for the best.”

“Yes, I’m sure of it.” Her tone was very definite, he noticed, and she didn’t look the least bit unhappy. Looked like she was the one who had ended the relationship. Even better, from his perspective.

So, the accountant was out of the picture. He felt a happy jolt and struggled to hide it. Okay, so she’s not in a relationship. She’s still off limits, pal. Just remember that.

Yet, when Matt looked up again, it was as if a huge flashing sign had popped up over her head: AVAILABLE!!! AVAILABLE!!

“Is there anything else?” Stephanie asked, completely back to business.

“I think that covers it,” he replied quickly. “See you Monday.”

He waved at her in a dismissing motion, suddenly knowing he had to get her out of his office, out of his sight. Or something would happen. Something momentarily wonderful, he was sure…but definitely regrettable in the long run.

She said good-night, then turned and walked to the door. He loved the way she moved. She was so graceful and elegant, her slim figure almost entirely camouflaged today in a sleek blue suit, a slit in the back of the straight skirt revealing a length of long, slim legs.

He heard the sound of the heavy door closing behind her and was suddenly alone in his office. He released a long harsh breath. One he had not even noticed he’d been holding.

This…thing he had about Stephanie Rossi was insane. If he didn’t watch out, he’d end up embarrassing himself…embarrassing both of them. And maybe with a lawsuit on his hands for harassment as well, he reminded himself.

He ran his hand through his hair, picking up the subtle trace of Stephanie’s perfume that still hung in the air.

He shook his head. “Harding, get a grip!”

Stephanie escaped Matthew Harding’s office on wobbly legs. She entered her own office and quickly shut the door.

Thank goodness for Nana Bella. She normally got annoyed when her family interrupted her at work with one of their crazy “emergencies,” but this time her dear grandmother had displayed perfect timing. Nana Bella always claimed to be a little psychic—as Italian grandmothers often do, just to keep their children in line—but this episode proved it.

Matt Harding unnerved her enough under normal circumstances—curtly delivering his orders, shouting his displeasure, showing no positive reaction to the many miracles she pulled off. But when he slipped into a personal mode…asking her about her family, her social life—or lack thereof—and praised her work to the sky, she couldn’t take it. She’d nearly melted into a puddle of goo, right there on the Persian rug.

What in the world had come over him? Maybe the kitchen had slipped something into his afternoon coffee, she mused.

Sometimes she hated this job. Not her real job, as assistant manager of hotel operations, which she’d started at the Harding Plaza about two months ago. She loved that job. Landing it had been a big step in her career. But this special, temporary assignment. She was never going to make it. She would lose her mind before it was all over.

Why her, of all people? She’d been so happy here at first. Then, just as she was getting her feet wet in the new spot, the buzz spread around the office: Matt Harding needed a temporary replacement for his personal assistant. For some mysterious reason, Stephanie was tapped for the assignment. She couldn’t understand it. So many others who were possible choices had been at the hotel far longer. Some of the female managers especially were more than willing—jealously wondering what Stephanie had done to deserve the honor.

But what choice did she have? She couldn’t very well refuse. Her boss had presented the call as a real perk—a chance to show off her talents to the top man.

“Do a good job for Mr. Harding and you’ll really advance in this organization,” her boss had advised her.

Stephanie had a far different view. She’d already heard the lowdown on Matt Harding. For one thing, the dynamic founder of Harding Hotels was reputed to be demanding and temperamental, totally charming one minute, then biting someone’s head off the next.

So far she’d barely glimpsed the charming side. The past few weeks had been mostly snarling, barking and a few nips here and there—or totally ignoring her. Which she found most unnerving of all.

Then there was this other problem. Matt Harding himself, an undisputable hunk. With enough masculine magnetism to light up Times Square. When her friends found out she’d been called upon to babysit “His Royal Hotness” they’d had a field day teasing her and giggling endlessly over silly, adolescent fantasies. Stephanie either ignored them, or denied that she felt any attraction.

Nobody believed her. Why would they? He was just that good-looking…or something. Stephanie could never quite figure out what it was about Matt Harding that set him apart—she just knew, whatever it was, he had plenty of it.

Yes, secretly she was attracted to him, though she’d never admit it in a million years, not even to her closest friends.

Insanely attracted.

It was insane, Stephanie often reminded herself. And pointless. Like yearning after a movie star or sports figure, some guy so distant and unattainable, he didn’t even know you were alive.

Besides, Stephanie knew by now a good relationship was more than a physical attraction. Matthew Harding had his shortcomings. To begin with, he was arrogant, a total egotist, and extremely insensitive. Not the type of man she admired and respected at all. Therefore, no problem. Right?

The kind of man she envisioned settling down with would be solid, sensitive and warm. He would share her values and background. He was not a self-centered playboy, running around with models and actresses half his age. He wanted a wife and family, a real life—and he’d want to make a real and lasting commitment.

The description of her ideal brought to mind her former fiancé, Tommy Torelli. They’d grown up in the same neighborhood of Brooklyn, homey Carroll Gardens. They’d gone to the same schools and had known each other forever. Their parents were friends and Tommy was almost like family.

Stephanie’s father had always predicted that one of his daughters would end up a Torelli. But Tommy, in his careful methodical way, took his sweet time making his choice. The summer after Stephanie graduated from college, he asked her out on a date. She’d thought he was joking at first, but when she realized he was serious, Stephanie said, “Sure, why not?”

Maybe that would have been good enough for most people—a comfortable, feet-on-solid-ground start for the same type of clearheaded romance. But it wasn’t quite good enough for Stephanie. She wanted more. Some indefinable but essential ingredient was missing. She hadn’t noticed it at first, but as time went on, she realized her so-called romance with Tommy never quite progressed beyond, “Sure, why not?”

She might be willing to date a man for that reason, and even go steady for several years. But she ultimately discovered she could not answer his mature and logical proposal of marriage by saying, “Sure, why not?”

Tommy was dear, he was sweet. He had good values, a strong character, an easygoing, pleasant personality. Their backgrounds were so similar, they could share a private joke with a mere glance. But Tommy was not the man she wanted to share her life with.

Her family was shocked and unhappy when Stephanie announced the breakup. Her parents had hoped Angie’s wedding would inspire Stephanie to set the date as well. They’d never imagined Angie’s nuptials would have just the opposite effect.

“You’re throwing away a good chance here, Stephanie,” her mother warned. “I just don’t understand you sometimes.”

Then her father chimed in, “You’re just nervous, sweetie. Everybody’s afraid to get married, believe me. Sure you like your job. It’s fine for a girl to work until the babies come. But you don’t want to end up like Aunt Lily, do you? Living alone with a bunch of cats to keep you company?”

Aunt Lily was her grandmother’s so-called spinster sister. The story was that when her fiancé died in World War II, Lily would have no other. A spinster or not, Aunt Lily had always seemed very happy and fulfilled to Stephanie. She’d been a schoolteacher and now was active in her retirement years, always traveling to exotic places on educational tours for seniors. Lily always invited Nana Bella to come along, but Stephanie’s parents always dissuaded her. Despite her father’s dire warning, Aunt Lily’s golden years didn’t look half bad to Stephanie.

Besides, women had far more choices these days. But try telling that to her well-meaning, but totally sexist, traditional father. He was hardly aware that women had the vote.

What was the use of arguing? Stephanie couldn’t explain it. Tommy was a little too steady and settled. She wanted to get married, not turn into a zombie.

Only Grandma Bella seemed to understand. “Don’t listen to your father. He’s not the one marrying Tommy. You did the right thing, sweetheart. Tommy’s a nice boy, don’t get me wrong. But figlia bella, he’s not for you,” Grandma agreed with a brisk shake of her head. “You need a little…fire.”

But who was for her? What faceless stranger would step out of the shadows to inspire that head-over-heels feeling she was holding out for? That breathless rush that reminds a person that life is more than going to work, eating dinner and watching the six-o’clock news? The pure elation and connection of two minds and souls that can fill you with absolute joy?

Who was that man, who would share this adventure with her, Stephanie wondered as she gazed out her office window.

It certainly was not Matt Harding.

If she felt he was taking some personal notice of her today, that was merely her overactive imagination. Matt Harding did not look at a woman like her twice. Not when he had the “flavor of the week” supermodels lined up as his Saturday night dates, she reminded herself. All she had to do was open the New York society pages to get dashed with cold water, washing away any misconceptions she might have about his interest in her. Not to mention the hotel grapevine, always ripe for the picking with rumors about her sexy boss’s exploits.

There were other rumors too, a sad story about his past. How he’d married his college sweetheart, but she’d broken his heart. According to the gossip, she’d not only left him for another man, but also somehow walked away with the savings he’d planned to use to start his business. He’d been spurned, burned and left with nothing. Somehow, he’d managed to survive those hard times and build his business anyway. But she suspected the scars from that episode went deep. Which might explain his apparent aversion to serious relationships.

But it was not for her to analyze or judge Matt Harding. She wished she didn’t think of him at all. He seemed content with his life and happy on his romantic merry-go-round. I probably make no more impression on him than a new piece of office furniture, Stephanie thought glumly.

So why did he get so personal today? Maybe he was merely curious, she reasoned. It didn’t mean anything at all.

Even if he was feeling some tiny spark of attraction, she couldn’t dare encourage it. That would be a total and complete disaster. She was in a very vulnerable state right now. She couldn’t let her guard down.

She glanced out her office windows at an extraordinary view of Central Park and the uptown skyline, which sparkled with points of light. The moon hung low in a smoky blue sky. Perfectly round and shimmering like a silver coin. Well, maybe that explained it. Nana Bella always warned her about the romantic powers of the full moon, Stephanie thought, smiling to herself.

Perhaps her domineering, gorgeous-but-grouchy boss was not immune to the spell?

Far below, she could see the sidewalks crowded with fast-walking, fast-talking New Yorkers, hurrying home to start their weekend or to meet friends…or meet a date somewhere special. Taxis darted in and out of traffic, and alongside the park entrance, horse-drawn carriages lined up, waiting to take passengers on a romantic moonlit ride.

It was a perfect night to be out in the city. But she had nowhere special to go, no one to meet. It was just as well that she worked late, Stephanie decided. Less time to feel lonely. She wouldn’t even bother trying to find another manager. Why ruin someone else’s plans, when she had none?

A dash of lipstick and a quick smoothing out of her sedate hairstyle, and she was ready to oversee the journalists’ big banquet. Who knows, she mused, as she walked toward the elevators, maybe some dashing international correspondent will sweep me away on his magic trench coat.

Like Nana Bella always said, “When you wake up in the morning, honey, you never know what’s going to happen. So make sure you always wear nice underwear, sweetheart. Okay?”

Chapter Two

Matt turned the key and let himself in his front door. A penthouse suite atop the hotel, the luxury apartment was a laughably short commute.

He strolled across the onyx floor of the foyer and into the sweeping living room. He kicked off his shoes, slipped off his suit jacket and yanked off his tie. Then he fixed himself a drink, the usual, bourbon with a splash of soda. Already past seven, he noticed. Not much time left to get ready for his date. The buff-colored leather couch, covered with large suede and Kilim tapestry pillows, looked tempting and he longed to sit back and put his feet up. But Jenna would read him the riot act if he was late. She had pull at the trendiest restaurants and hated to miss out on a good table. A table where she could see all and be seen by all.

At times, she seemed to have no greater joy in life than finding her blurry photograph in the gossip pages of the morning newspaper. Not his style at all, though so far, he humored her. He’d never courted publicity and actively avoided it. Though the paparazzi always seemed to find him a worthy subject, he couldn’t quite understand the fascination. Especially when the gossip columnists put out some absurd story about his private life. But as Jenna often reminded him, any publicity was good publicity. He wasn’t so sure about that theory, but never bothered to argue with her.

He took a bolstering swallow of his bourbon and headed for the bedroom, a large master suite. Jenna was not the deepest, most sensitive person he had ever met—but she was very good in bed. Hey, a guy can’t expect a woman to be perfect.

Unfortunately, the concept of female perfection brought to mind one woman and one alone…Stephanie Rossi. He stripped off his shirt and trousers, wondering what Stephanie was like in bed. She always seemed so quiet and controlled. Yet he had long suspected that was an act, mostly for his benefit—a “persona” she donned for the office.

For one thing, there was her sense of humor. Surprisingly sharp and even zany at times. And he’d always found you could tell a lot about a woman by watching her eat. One morning he’d spied Stephanie having breakfast at her desk, a sticky cinnamon roll and a frothy cappuccino. The way she had delicately devoured the pastry, her eyes half closed as she licked the tip of one finger, her tongue darting out, skimming the trace of sugary icing….

He felt a lump forming in his throat—and other places on his anatomy—just thinking about it. She was a deeply sensual woman—no question about it. Secretly sensual perhaps. But that would make it all the more delightful to unveil her hidden, erotic side. Yes, a man would be very lucky indeed to be granted that special privilege.

Unlike Jenna, who flaunted her sexuality so boldly he’d become numb to it. Ah, well. Like the song goes, you can’t always get what you want.

He strolled across the bedroom in his briefs, not even bothering to glance at his image in the large mirror that hung on the opposite wall. For all his good looks and the admiring glances he constantly received, he was not a vain man. His tall, wide-shouldered frame was lean and fit, with well-developed muscles in his long legs, chest and arms. His chest was covered with a mat of dark brown hair, tapering down his flat, sculpted stomach. He liked to keep fit and needed to be in top shape just to keep up with his demanding lifestyle. He worked out regularly in the hotel’s fully equipped health club, and swam laps in the Olympic-size pool. Living across the street from Central Park made it easier to take an early-morning jog, or even go cycling.

Like many men approaching forty, Matt found it wasn’t quite as easy to finish those fifty sit-ups, or sprint that last mile. He sometimes worried about going “soft” all over. Yet the truth of the matter was, he didn’t have much to worry about. The women in his life never had any complaints.

As Matt pulled a dark-plum bath sheet from the linen closet, he noticed the light flashing on the phone machine, which sat on a writing desk in the corner of the bedroom. He walked over and pressed the answer button. Jenna’s high-pitched voice greeted him. She tended to squeal when excited and he turned the volume down.

“Hey, Matt. It’s me. I was really looking forward to seeing you, sweetie. But something has come up at work and I’m leaving tonight for—guess where?—the French countryside. Top secret emergency, sweetie, so don’t tell a soul. Guess what? Brian and Melanie are getting married—” Matt frowned. He didn’t know any Brian, or Melanie. Then he realized Jenna was talking about two famous actors who were always on the cover of the supermarket tabloids. Brian Bigelow and Melanie Marsh? Something like that.

Jenna, the celebrity authority, often referred to total strangers on a first-name basis, a habit he found annoying.

Jenna’s voice rattled on, and he listened with half an ear. He already knew the punch line. He’d been stood up for Brian and Melanie. For some reason, instead of feeling let down, he felt strangely…relieved.

“…so our sources heard the wedding was not going to be in Palm Springs or at Brian’s ranch in Montana. I mean, I knew that was a spin all along. Then I found out the real location. Brian’s stepmother’s chateau. She’s practically British royalty, you know. Lady Gainsworth…or Gainsworthy? I’m not sure…. Anyway, her personal secretary’s sister-in-law goes to the same day spa as I do. So she was getting a body wax in the booth right next to me and I heard everything. Lucky, right?”

How long was his message tape, Matt wondered. Didn’t it have an automatic cutoff at some point?

“Sorry, sweetie, but this really is the story of the year. I can’t miss out. Anyway, kisses and kisses, Matt sweetheart—” Matt heard some juicy kissing sounds and winced a bit. “I’ll make it up to you next week. Promise,” Jenna added with a sexy laugh.

A long, electronic beep signaled the end of her seemingly endless message. Well, so much for his hot date. He pressed the rewind button on the machine and headed for the shower.

Maybe Jenna breaking this date was in fact, a good thing.

This relationship wasn’t going anywhere and it was time he faced it. When she came back, he’d take her out to dinner and have the usual talk. “It’s not you, it’s me…” etcetera and so on. He knew his lines by heart by now. She’d probably be angry. Maybe even throw a drink at him. Some women did. He’d send her flowers, maybe a nice piece of jewelry?

Was there something wrong with him? Why was he so hard to please? Why couldn’t he find a woman who didn’t drive him crazy, or just plain bore him to tears?

Matt turned on the shower, adjusted the water to the steaming-hot temperature he preferred, then stepped into the black-marble and glass enclosure. For years, he’d been focused on building his business. Working hard and playing hard. He loved the company of charming, attractive women and was rarely without a gorgeous one in his life. But relationships—real relationships—were never a priority to him. Women seem to come and go, the next one always more enticing than the last.

As a young man, his motto had always been, “So many women, so little time.” But now it seemed more as if time was running out, and while he’d enjoyed the company of many, he still hadn’t found that special one in the world, the woman that was made just for him. Did she really exist? Would he ever find her?

Once upon a time, he’d been an optimist about such matters. A real romantic. But that had all changed back in college, when his first love left him for another man. She’d not only broken his heart, but had also made off with his inheritance, the seed money for his business. With the help of banks and investors, he’d managed to succeed anyway. Eventually, he’d realized that his ex-wife had robbed him of something even more valuable than money—the courage to reach out and love again.

Now it felt as if he was forever trapped in a hopeless loop of meaningless romances, with trophy dates like Jenna. Finally, just like tonight, he always found himself alone.

He briskly toweled off, then dressed in jeans and a black V-neck pullover. He combed his thick wet hair straight back and didn’t even think about shaving. Maybe I’ll grow a beard this weekend, he thought as he walked barefoot back into the living room.

He freshened his drink, then flicked on the evening news. The flashing images captured only a fraction of his attention. He was weary and the weekend seemed to stretch out endlessly—echoing with loneliness.

He’d take out his phone book and call someone. There were plenty of names to choose from. He could find a date for tonight, even at such short notice, he consoled himself. He and Jenna didn’t really have an exclusive relationship. He considered this solution, then realized there wasn’t any other woman he really wanted to see.

Well, there was one. But she was off-limits to him.

He took a gulp of his drink, the ice tinkling against the crystal glass. He’d drive out to his country house and spend the weekend at the beach. Being near the ocean always soothed his nerves and energized him. He’d spend the weekend. Maybe he’d meet somebody new out there, at the shore. Or in a club.

Is that what Stephanie would be doing this weekend? Not spending time with a boyfriend, he knew now. That was some relief. But maybe going out with girlfriends to singles clubs, or on blind dates, trying to find a new boyfriend?

He sighed and shifted restlessly in his seat. Why torture yourself? She’s clearly and totally off limits. Is that the fascination here? The kind of woman you need is running off to the French countryside to mingle with celebrities. Not hopping a subway to Brooklyn to babysit.

He glanced around the stylishly decorated, perfectly neat apartment. It suddenly felt so sterile…so oppressive. He had to get out of here. He snapped off the TV with the remote and dropped his glass on the marble coffee table.

Back in the bedroom, he started to pack a bag. The phone rang and he paused. Jenna again? Maybe her plans changed and she was free.

He made no move to pick it up. He didn’t want to see her tonight after all. The machine answered on the third ring and he listened closely.

“Mr. Harding? I’m sorry to bother you. I’m not even sure if you’re there…but a problem has come up that you should know about….”

Stephanie. He leaped toward the writing desk and scooped up the receiver.

“Yes, Stephanie. I’m here. What is it?”

Some glitch with the banquet. She needed his help. He’d run down and smooth it out. Then maybe they’d have dinner together….

“It’s Blue Water Cay. Ben Drury, the general manager just called. Talks just broke off with the unions. All the local employees just walked off the job—”

“What!?” Matt jumped up from his seat at the desk.

Blue Water Cay was the newest Harding property, a luxury resort and spa set on a tiny island off Florida’s southwest coast. The resort had opened just weeks ago. There were always kinks to work out at a new hotel. He knew the unions were acting up, asking for changes on the contract they’d only just signed. He had a team of mediators and lawyers on it.

But a complete walk-off of all employees? That was a total disaster.

“It was hard to get all the details. You should probably speak to Mr. Drury directly. He’s waiting for your call.”

“Of course. Do you have his number handy?” Matt grabbed a pen and paper and jotted down the number Stephanie recited.

“Thanks. Don’t leave the hotel until you hear from me,” he added. “I may need you tonight.”

Stephanie promised to wait for his call. She said goodbye and hung up.

Matt quickly dialed the general manager of Blue Water Cay Resort. The phone rang once and Ben’s voice came on the line.

“What the hell is going on down there?” Matt began the conversation without bothering with a greeting. “My assistant says you just had a full-scale walkout.”

Ben confirmed the bad news and went on to explain the problem in detail. Beneath his calm tone, Matt could sense that the newly promoted general manager was indeed, in a panic.

Understandably. It was a mess few hoteliers would ever have to face. Yet Matt was still angry that the situation had gone so far out of control before anyone had called him.

“The worst news is the union reps have walked out of their meetings with our representatives. Unfortunately, guests are starting to walk out, too.”

Just what he didn’t want to hear. An incident like this could tarnish the new hotel’s reputation for years to come. Matt simply couldn’t let this happen.

“Enough said. I’ve got the picture.” Matt considered reading Ben Drury the riot act. Then realized that would only waste time. Once he reached the hotel, he’d have plenty of opportunity to reprimand his top executive.

“Hold tight. I’ll be there in a few hours.” Matt glanced at his watch. “I’ll call from Miami. Send a car to the airport.”

The trip to the island from New York required a flight to Miami and then a puddle jumper, a small twin-engine plane that made quick runs to the islands.

“Sure thing. It might be hard to catch a shuttle tonight, though. You may have to wait until morning,” Ben advised in a nervous tone.

“I’ll be there tonight. One way or another,” Matt promised him.

Sounding like a man about to face the guillotine, Drury said goodbye quickly and hung up.

And with good reason. There was a major mess to be cleaned up, and he was the only one able to do it.

Along with Stephanie Rossi, he silently added.

The thought struck like an inspiration. He couldn’t think of anyone at this moment more able to help him. He was sure of it. She had to come. He’d make her come. He wouldn’t give her any choice.

You just want to see her in a bathing suit, his chiding voice cut in.

That’s not it at all. I need help down there. I can’t do it all on my own. She’s terrific at handling disgruntled guests, figuring out staffing, everything that needs to be covered to run a hotel.

Okay…I would love to see her in a bathing suit. With one of those matching sarong things floating around her hips, he mused.

But that’s totally beside the point!

Packing his bag with one hand, he dialed Stephanie with the other and then tucked the phone between his shoulder and cheek.

“I just spoke to Drury. It’s a disaster. I’m going down there right away.”

“Oh…that’s too bad,” Stephanie murmured in agreement. He could hear the banquet in the background. The clatter of plates and the murmur of the partying journalists.

“Who’s at the concierge desk tonight?”

“Max,” Stephanie replied.

“Have him book two seats on the next flight to Miami. If he can’t find a connection to the Cay tonight, have him hire a private plane. Something small. Then meet me in the lobby in fifteen minutes. I need you to come along. Got that?”

He waited for her reply, hearing only silence. He imagined the shocked look on her lovely face.

“I’m sorry…it’s a little noisy in here. Did you say you want me to come to Blue Water Cay?”

“That’s what I said. You’re my assistant, aren’t you?” he reminded her. “Isn’t an assistant expected to assist with emergencies?”

He felt a twinge of conscience at his gruff sarcasm.

He wasn’t really annoyed, just trying to strong-arm her into a quick agreement. If she didn’t fear her job was on the line, he reasoned, she might make some excuse not to go.

“Why…yes. I mean, of course. I just didn’t expect…” Stephanie paused and took a deep breath. “I don’t have any clothes. Or even a toothbrush. Maybe I should run up to my apartment and pack a bag.”

“Sorry. No time. You can buy a toothbrush and whatever you need at the resort. Just put it on an expense account. Any other questions?”

“Uh…no. Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll see you in the lobby in fifteen minutes.”

He hung up the phone and rubbed his face with his hands. Suddenly, he wondered if taking Stephanie Rossi with him was such a great idea after all.

“Whisked away! To a tropical paradise!”

That’s what Nana Bella’s reaction had been. Nana was the only family Stephanie had been able to reach while she waited in the lobby for her boss to appear. She knew they’d be looking for her over the weekend, maybe even call the police when she didn’t answer her phone messages. It was wiser by far simply to tell someone what was happening.

But her grandmother, bless her soul, hadn’t understood at all that this was hardly a pleasure trip and that her impossible boss probably expected her to body-block an entire herd of stampeding guests heading for the checkout desk. Among other impossible feats.

Nana didn’t get any of that. When she heard the news, she shouted, “Whoopee! You’re being whisked away to a tropical island! Just like Desiree and Chad….”

Desiree and Chad were Nana’s favorite characters from her favorite soap opera Tempest Rock. Since Nana’s world beyond the Rossi household was limited, the soap had become her primary point of reference and she often confused the events on Tempest Rock with real life.

“This is just business, Nana. A real emergency,” Stephanie explained.

The most miserable forty-eight hours of her life, most likely. Stephanie considered cooking up some last-minute excuse. Could she suddenly remember some crucial doctor’s appointment? Or some family crisis?

He’ll never believe me, she thought.

The moment to wriggle out of this invitation had passed. He hadn’t even given her a moment. She felt as if a gun had been held to her head, the unspoken threat being, “Come along…or else.”

“Believe me, I’m not being…whisked in any way, Nana. Hijacked is more like it.”

“I’ve seen pictures of your boss, sweetheart. I’d let that guy whisk me—or hijack me, even—in a heartbeat….”

“Nana…don’t be silly.” Stephanie felt her cheeks flush. Nana had a point. A fairly irrefutable one.

Stephanie felt someone standing beside her and looked up to find Matt. She wondered how long he’d been standing there. How much he’d overheard.

“So long, Nana. I’ve got to run—”

“Have a good trip, sweetheart. I’m going to light a candle for you!” Nana called happily after her.

Stephanie said goodbye again, clicked off her phone and stashed it in her purse.

“Checking in with your family?” His tone was bland but a faint light of amusement danced in his dark eyes.

“I needed to call in case anyone was looking for me.”

“Very thoughtful…and don’t worry about Sunday dinner. I’ll write you a note.”

She felt annoyed at his teasing for a moment. But his warm smile quickly melted her anger. Practically melted her bones, she realized. She found it hard enough to deal with him when he was being bossy and demanding. When he got all up close and personal like this, it was truly a challenge.

That’s the last time I’ll tell him anything about my real life, she vowed.

“I’ve got the e-tickets from Max. The flight leaves in about an hour and half, which should give us plenty of time. The car is out front, waiting,” she recited efficiently.

“Good work.” He smiled again, making her heart skip a beat. She’d never seen him dressed before in casual clothes. His worn denim jeans hung low on his hips, draping his long legs like an advertisement for male sex appeal. A soft black pullover, with the sleeves pushed up his forearms, molded his physique, emphasizing wide shoulders, a hard chest and washboard abs. He wore it without a T-shirt underneath and the high V-neck tantalized with a hint of dark chest hair.

He bent to pick up his duffel bag and she remembered again that she was traveling light. Frighteningly light.

What kind of clothes would she find at a resort shop on a tropical island—batik wrap skirts and tie-dyed bikinis?

Well, one disaster at a time, she coached herself.

Chapter Three

It all felt very dreamlike, Stephanie thought later. As if she and Matt were in a movie. The speeding ride to the airport in a long black limo. Their mad dash to the gate. The VIP treatment by the airline personnel.

She’d barely fastened her seat belt and caught her breath when the plane began to take off. She’d never sat in first class before. She had to admit, it wasn’t so bad. The leather seats were soft and roomy and tilted back for dozing. Like sitting in her Dad’s new deluxe La-Z-Boy recliner. She and her sisters had chipped in on Father’s Day and bought him the top-of-the-line model, complete with back massaging action at the touch of a button.

Of course, when you compared the two seating situations, you had to factor in proximity to Matt Harding. Though Stephanie wasn’t sure if that went in the plus or minus column.

She snuck a quick glance at her boss, who sat disturbingly close. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of gum, unwrapped a stick and stuck it in his mouth. Then turned and offered her some.

“Helps relieve the air pressure when you take off,” he promised.

She shook her head. “No thanks. I’m fine.”

He shrugged and stuck the gum back in his pocket. Staring straight ahead, he seemed to be thinking. Then he did the most amazing thing. The last thing she’d ever expect of him.

He blew a huge pink bubble.

Stephanie watched him, her mouth falling open. It grew and grew to an enormous, hypnotizing size. Then he somehow pulled the entire thing into his mouth and smashed it, with a loud pop.

He turned to her with a coaxing smile. “Sure you don’t want some? We could have a contest.”

“A contest?”

“See who can blow the biggest bubble,” he said, seeming surprised she didn’t understand.

She couldn’t tell from his tone if he was teasing her again. It seemed as if he might be. She’d rarely seen this playful side. She didn’t quite know how to react.

Retreat! Retreat! Run like…heck, a secret voice advised her. You don’t want to encourage this man, Stephanie. He’s out of your league, believe me. And bubble gum isn’t good for your teeth.

“I brought some files about the resort. I thought I’d look them over. Try to get some ideas of how to keep things going without a full staff….”

His playful expression took on a more serious cast. “Of course. Very efficient of you, Stephanie. As always.” He sighed and dug down into his briefcase. “I brought some, too.” He pulled out a wad of files and a laptop computer. “Maybe we can figure out some strategies.”

Stephanie agreed, relieved to see him switch back into “boss” mode again. She swallowed hard. She didn’t want to get personal with him. But traveling and working together all weekend like this was going to be a challenge.

But once she and Matt got down to work, the time passed quickly and the flight to Miami wasn’t nearly as difficult as she’d expected. She actually enjoyed brainstorming with him, and he always seemed very interested in her perspective. He knew so much and was very creative for a businessman, she thought. She learned a lot, just trading ideas with him.

He’s not just a pretty face, she thought with a secret smile.

When they reached Miami, they quickly found their connection, a small, local airline that flew between the mainland and many islands. The flight was not on the regular schedule, but since Matt was willing to pay handsomely for all sixteen seats, the pilot was willing to take him wherever he wanted to go.

Stephanie was not the greatest flyer and felt a little wary of the tiny, noisy aircraft. She took a seat and fastened her belt, forcing a calm expression.

Matt sat down beside her and patted her hand. “Nothing to worry about. We’ll be up and down before you even know it.’

She turned to him, feeling even more distressed. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

He smiled, but in a way that didn’t make her foolish. More like her burgeoning hysteria was somehow…cute.

“Sure you don’t want some gum?” he asked in a kind voice. “It might distract you.”

He took out the pack again and held it out to her. This time she took a stick. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I’ll let you warm up a little. Then we’ll let the games begin.”

She glanced at him, wondering if he was serious. He did look serious. She looked straight ahead, smiling a little. “I need to warn you. I grew up in Brooklyn. Four sisters. I’m tough.”

“Bring it on, babe.” He glanced at her, nearly laughing and she felt her smile growing even wider. Then she held her hand out for the pack of gum again.

“Two sticks each. Best three out of five.”

He looked surprised yet pleased at her challenging tone. “You’re on.”

Stephanie took the second stick of gum and started to chew. Then tried to remember how to blow a bubble. It had been a long time….

The rickety, noisy twin-engine plane rolled down the runway and slowly rose in the air without her barely noticing. When she looked out the window, they were flying smoothly over water and she could already see their destination, the small green island, nearby.

Matt won the bubble-blowing contest easily. His efforts were amazing. Her first two were laughable, but her last one was a real contender.

“You’re good,” she admitted as the plane taxied down the runway. “Who would have guessed this hidden talent?”

He grinned at her, looking pleased by the compliment. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Stephanie. You’d be surprised.”

His dark eyes flashed a silent challenge. She met his gaze a minute and looked away.

If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he’s flirting with me. Maybe Nana was right. Maybe I am getting whisked.

Stephanie turned her head and gave herself a mental shake. She was imagining this, right? Or maybe he was flirting, but it didn’t mean anything. He was bored and just flexing some cramped male flirting muscles. Just wants to make sure everything is in working order. Sort of like testing a fire alarm?

She wondered where she’d find his reset button. She really needed to turn it off.

Another sleek limo met them at Blue Cay’s tiny airport and they rode the short distance to the hotel without speaking much. The air-conditioned car sped down an empty, narrow road, and the dark and tropical night surrounded them. Palm trees on the roadside swayed gently and the deep-blue sky above was studded with white stars. She couldn’t see the water but sensed it all around, the scent of the sea in the heavy humid air like a strange perfume.

The limo turned down a long driveway that led to the resort. The columned entrance and portico was brightly lit and very impressive, everything white with blue tile. The surrounding landscape gave the impression of a lush rainforest, with giant Royal Palms and masses of tropical plants and colorful flowers,

She stepped out of the car and stared around, feeling very disoriented. And instantly sticky and overdressed, even in her spring weight suit. She could actually feel her hair curling in the humidity, springing loose from the pins that held it in place. She felt rumpled and tired and knew that she must look a dreadful mess.

Matt sprang out of the car, seeming energized and in total control. “Finally,” he said. He took her arm and began to lead her towards the lobby.

The hotel looked quiet, especially for a Friday night she thought. Then she realized, no bellmen, rushing forward to take their bags and help them check in. One lonely soul standing at the front desk.

The lone employee behind the desk spotted their approach and rushed toward them, flying through the automatic glass doors.

“Mr. Harding…. How was your trip? Here, let me take that for you.” Ben Drury, the hotel general manager, Stephanie guessed.

And I thought I’ve had a bad day. His was just beginning.

Ben Drury made a grab for Matt’s leather duffel bag, but Matt held on firmly.

“That’s all right, Ben. I can handle it.” He cast his employee a tight smile.

Ben backed off, still smiling, looking as if he might very well stumble over his own feet. He was that nervous.

“As you like. If you need a hand, just holler.”

“This is my assistant, Stephanie Rossi. She’s come down to help out.”

Matt stepped aside to make the introductions and Ben shook Stephanie’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, Ms. Rossi. Welcome. If you need anything at all while you’re here—”

I’d better get it myself. Because there’s no one left working here, Stephanie silently finished for him. She glanced at Matt, sensing he knew what she was thinking and shared the joke. It was a struggle to keep a straight face as Ben completed his welcoming speech.

“—just let me know. I’d be delighted to help you in any way possible….”

Still, Stephanie felt awfully sorry for the guy. The disaster wasn’t exactly his fault. Though he might lose his job over it. She smiled at him. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“You must be tired from the trip. Would you like to see your rooms? I’ve booked you both in the beachfront suites. I think you’ll be quite comfortable.”

That sounded like a plan, Stephanie thought. She was exhausted. She definitely wanted to see her room. Particularly, her pillow.

But Matt seemed to have some other plan in mind. She could tell from the way he frowned at the suggestion, before he’d even spoken a word.

“We didn’t come down here to sleep, Drury. I need a full update on the property. What kind of staff are we left with, what’s the occupancy? What’s going on with the union talks?”

Matt’s voice rose a notch on each point. Ben Drury seemed to flinch inside his dark blue suit.

Stephanie felt instantly jolted awake. She took a deep breath and glanced at Drury. He was in the hot seat and she felt sorry for him all over again.

She suddenly felt sorry for herself, too. It looked as if they were going to be up all night.

Up all night with Matthew Harding. Was her name going to be added to some long list in his diary, she joked to herself. With a footnote, of course.

How could hell look so much like paradise?

That was Stephanie’s first thought as she stepped through the glass doors and stared out at the magnificent view. The private patio, complete with a pool and hot tub, was set right on the beach, steps from the crystal blue bay. At half past six in the morning, the beach was totally empty, serene in the early light. The sand looked fine and white as sugar and the sea was a crystal shade of turquoise blue.

The private patio was beautifully landscaped, with scarlet and white hibiscus and hot-pink bougainvillea that bloomed wildly while tall palms provided corners of shade. A lattice-work wall, covered with a lush, flowering vine separated the space from the neighboring suite.

The suite where her boss was presumably still sleeping.

Stephanie hugged the hotel-issue, terry-cloth bathrobe around her slim form and padded back inside. She wasn’t even sure how she’d woken up so early. The alarm clock she’d found on the nightstand had helped. And she never could sleep late in a strange place.

But it was mostly sheer terror that had propelled her out of bed today, after little more than four hours’ sleep.

She pulled apart the little coffeemaker in the suite’s efficient kitchen. She set it up and turned it on. Coffee. She needed some. Bad. Real bad. Though she must have drunk at least a gallon of it last night.

They’d worked until nearly 2:00 a.m., Ben Drury, Matt, Stephanie and a few key executives, huddled together as they reviewed every facet of hotel operations. Hotel in-operations was more like it—as in totally inoperative, out of order, defunct.

This was not a surprise. The surprise was that Matt—bullheaded, optimistic, never say die—Harding expected to keep things up and running until the labor dispute was resolved. Which, at the current rate, looked like never.

Stephanie had to admire him. Another man would have closed the place down, booked the guests into other hotels, the Harding resort in the Florida Keys for instance. Or sent them home with rain checks or gift certificates. But not Matt Harding.

Pushed to the wall—and delirious from sleep deprivation and an overdose of caffeine—Stephanie had come up with a few innovative ideas last night that seemed to both impress and please her boss.

But it was one thing to come up with these crazy tactics to keep guests happy and fed and so full of blender drinks, they couldn’t budge off their lounge chairs, much less pack up and leave the place early.

It was another story entirely to actually pull the rabbit out of the hat. To pull off these crowd-pleasing tricks.

She’d left with the other executives, while Matt remained, going over the union contract with a bleary-eyed Drury.

Matt had hardly seemed tired, she recalled, while the rest of them were sitting with their chins on the table. He had stamina. Loads of it. The gossip about him was true. He could go all night. She smiled into her mug as the errant image raced through her mind.

The sound of splashing water broke into her thoughts. She returned to the glass doors again and glanced at the pool, expecting to see a seagull looking for a luxury bird bath. The pool was empty, without a ripple. Then she realized the sound was coming from next door. Matt’s territory.

She took a few quiet steps outside and peeked through the vine-covered divider. She could see his dark head cutting through the surface of the water, his long muscular arms and smooth broad back glistening as he made his way down the length of the pool with a powerful breaststroke.

He was…gorgeous. No question. He looked good in clothes, but this was something else altogether.

She felt guilty watching him in secret, a peeping Tom. Or the female equivalent. Still, she couldn’t force herself to look away. He was the very definition of total hunk. The masculine ideal. His torso rose as he reached forward in the water and her gaze slid down his sleek form….

What a pair of shoulders. Look at those arms. What a cute butt….

He twisted onto his back, floating a moment as he stared at the sky, then started a backstroke.

Her gaze scanned the flip side, from head to—

Stephanie blinked and dropped her mug. It crashed and broke into a million pieces. She jumped out of the way with a muffled curse, hot coffee burning her toes. She glanced through the screen just long enough to see that Matt had indeed heard the noise and knew she was standing there.

She heard the splashing stop and didn’t dare look again to see if he was coming out of the pool.

“Stephanie? Is that you?”

It’s my evil twin. I would never stand here, stalking you. Gawking at your naked anatomy…

Feeling totally mortified, her cheeks flaming as if she’d sat all day in the sun, she swiftly crept inside, not daring to make a sound.

Her only hope was to avoid Matt when he left his room, she decided.

She quickly dressed in her rinsed-out underwear and yesterday’s outfit. Then twisted up her hair and brushed her teeth with the corner of a washcloth and the complimentary toothpaste.

No makeup to hide the bags under her eyes. She could only find a tube of lipstick in her purse. The wrong color, but she put it on anyway, then checked herself out in the mirror.

She looked terrible. No question.

There are worse ways to start the day, Stephanie, she reminded herself. Like being caught checking out your boss in his birthday suit.

Stephanie arrived at the main building of the hotel feeling breathless. Luckily, there was a plan, outlined last night at the meeting. The first hurdle was getting through breakfast service. Stephanie found every able-bodied employee of the hotel assembled in the kitchen, with most not having the faintest idea of what to do.

She checked her notes and got them moving, somehow setting up a passable breakfast buffet in the outdoor dining space. Ben Drury, wearing a chef’s hat and apron, manned the omelet station.

The poor man was desperate to save his job, Stephanie realized. He’d do just about anything, short of posing on a platter with an apple in his mouth. He’d been trained in the food and beverage area of the hotel before his promotions, she’d learned, so this was a logical and the most helpful place for him to stay all day.

Out in the dining room, a man in a golf cap complained at the self-service concept. His grumbling was nearly as loud as the print on his Hawaiian shirt.

“A buffet? Give me a frigging break. I’m paying good money to have a waiter carry my food to the table. Didn’t the rest of you?”

A few guests averted their gaze, too polite to engage him. But some others started ranting, too.

Not even nine o’clock and she was facing a mutiny.

Drury rushed around, playing waiter in an attempt to placate them. Stephanie ran over and poured out coffee. Then talked up the freebies that would be available today in all parts of the hotel—free tennis lessons, sailboats, Jet Skis and down in the spa, massages, facials and aromatherapy.

The frowns soon turned to smiles while Stephanie made a mental note to have a huge sign posting the free services placed at the front desk—giving second thoughts to anyone trying to check out.

The rebellion had been quelled. Momentarily. Stephanie sighed, her body sagging with relief. Would she ever manage to last the day?

“How are you doing, Stephanie? Everything under control?”

Matt’s voice put her on instant alert. She felt as if he’d just materialized beside her out of thin air. Like a character on Star Trek.

She stood up tall and forced a smile. “So far, so good. We got the breakfast service going and the complimentary spa treatments and water sports vouchers seem to be working.”

“Yes, a great idea. That should help.” Matt was dressed in fresh clothes, she noticed. A blue shirt, black pants and a charcoal-gray linen jacket and silk tie. His crisp attire made her feel even more crumpled. She made a mental note to check out the resort shops at some point, if she could.

As good as he looked in his outfit, she couldn’t help but remember what was underneath….

“Up early?”

“Um…yes. I was. I got up early and headed right over here.”

Liar, liar. Pants on fire, she chided herself.

“Really? What a shame. It was a beautiful morning. You should have taken a few minutes out on your patio. To check out the view.”

Stephanie felt her cheeks flame, but forced herself to keep a calm expression.

He knew. He just enjoyed playing games, didn’t he?

She looked up and met his eye. “I was in a rush today. Maybe tomorrow morning,” she answered smoothly, “when I have more time to enjoy it.”

His bland expression changed suddenly, looking surprised at her comeback.

I grew up in Brooklyn, pal. I already warned you, she added silently.

“I have some good news,” he said, changing the subject. “Some reinforcements from our hotels in Boca Raton and the Keys are flying in this morning to help out. You’re in charge of figuring out how to use them. I don’t even trust Drury to make toast, quite frankly,” Matt added, glancing over his shoulder.

The assignment and authority he’d just given her was a great compliment. Stephanie felt honored…and overwhelmed, but tried to stay cool.

“The priority right now is housekeeping. I guess I’ll put most of the helpers to work there and see how it goes.”

“Good strategy. I’ll be in meetings with the union reps all day. If you need me, send a message and I’ll get back to you.” Matt smiled at her. “Good luck.”

She smiled back, feeling suddenly close to him. “Good luck to you, too. I hope it goes well.”

“Cross your fingers. The sooner we can sort this all out, the sooner we get to go back to New York.”

Which couldn’t be soon enough for me, Stephanie thought. She forced a smile as he nodded and walked over to chat with Ben Drury. She couldn’t help but notice the women in the dining room, forks poised midway to their mouths as they checked Matt out.

If the guests really get restless, we can always have Matt swim laps in the hotel pool. That will at least keep the ladies away from the checkout desk.

Somewhat cheered by the news of more employees on the way, Stephanie headed for the lobby, her pad of strategy notes tucked under one arm. The assistant manager of accounting was manning the front desk. Stephanie was almost sure that Shirley Conrad didn’t have the foggiest idea of what she was doing, but at least she had shown up for work this morning and was trying her best.

“How’s it going?” Stephanie asked her.

“Pretty quiet. A few couples asked me about flights off the island today, but so far, nobody’s checked out early.”

“I think they’re all still getting their fill of the free breakfast. Let’s hope all the carbs make them want to nap.”

“If the pancakes don’t work, try some piña coladas.”

“Excellent suggestion. Happy Hour may start a little early today. Like in about…fifteen minutes.”

Shirley giggled. “Rev up the blenders. Anything for the cause.”

“That’s the spirit.” Stephanie smiled as she slipped behind the desk to check the registration activity. The front desk had been quiet, just as Shirley reported. A good sign. Though it was still early yet.

She heard the sound of arguing, more like low-level hissing and looked up to see a man and woman loaded down with suitcases, golf clubs and tote bags as they stumbled across the lobby.

“Our first customers. Let’s see if we can get them to stay,” she whispered to Shirley.

The two women ran out from behind the desk and approached the couple. “Here, let us help you with those bags,” Stephanie said smoothly. She grabbed a suitcase in each hand and soon had it placed on the bell cart Shirley rolled over.

“We’re checking out. The reservation is under the name Ames, Harold and Alice. We were supposed to stay to Tuesday, but we’re checking out,” the man said belligerently. He dumped his golf clubs on the cart with a deafening rattle. “I have a good mind to ask for my money back on the days we spent here, too.”

“Harold…please.” The woman tugged his sleeve. “It wasn’t that bad….”

“Now you just let me handle this, Alice. I’m not paying for ‘not that bad.’ I’m paying for deluxe. And I certainly didn’t get it. Not once the help walked off.”

“We came here for our anniversary. Thirty years,” the wife explained. Stephanie thought she saw the woman glance at her spouse and roll her eyes, which Stephanie read as the universal sign of disbelief that she’d lasted so long in her marriage.

“Thirty years? Congratulations,” Stephanie crooned. “That’s really an achievement. If only we’d known you were celebrating such a big event, Mr. Ames. I would have been happy to upgrade you to one of our VIP suites. Very lovely. A private pool and Jacuzzi. Private beachfront, too. Did you get the champagne dinner or the his and hers massages at the spa?”

She knew very well that Harold and Alice had not been given any of these perks and upgrades, and watched as Alice turned to her husband with a shocked expression.

“Harold…a beachfront suite. Free massages…”

“I heard. I heard.” He frowned, looking uncomfortable as he considered how foolish he might look, giving up his belligerent stance. “You’d do all that for us? Gratis, I mean?”

Stephanie shrugged. “Our gift to you. In honor of your anniversary.”

Harold glanced at Alice, who gave her husband a mournful look. “All right,” he said finally. “My wife wants to stay longer, so I guess we’ll stick it out.”

Stephanie nearly laughed at his self-sacrificing tone. She’d just agreed to hundreds of dollars of complimentary charges. It was a lot for free. But Stephanie knew that if one guest had a bad time at the hotel, they would go back home and tell ten others, and that would be thousands of dollars in business lost. But if they were pleased with their stay, that would translate to more new business.

“I think you’ll be very comfortable in your suite and if you need anything at all to make your stay more enjoyable, just let me know,” Stephanie added.

Shirley had already gone behind the desk and scanned the computer for an unoccupied suite that was ready for a check-in.

“We can put you in room 505. Just give me a minute and I’ll make the keys.”

“Don’t worry about the luggage,” Stephanie added. “I’ll find someone to bring it down to the room for you.”

Probably yours truly, she added silently.

“And don’t forget to check out all the complimentary services the hotel is offering this weekend—water sports, golf, tennis and spa treatments.”

“Golf? That sounds good to me,” Harold chuckled.

“I always wanted to try a seaweed wrap. They say it’s marvelous for your skin. I’m going to run down there right now, before the rush.” Alice kissed her husband on the cheek and trotted off toward the spa.

Harold collected his new key and pulled his golf clubs off the luggage cart. “Thanks for your help, miss,” he said to Stephanie. “See you around.”

With a cheerful, jaunty walk, he was off to the greens. Stephanie turned to Shirley and they joined in a long, relieved sigh. Shirley stuck out her hand and Stephanie shook it.

“Nice work.”

“Thanks, you too,” Stephanie replied.

“Yes, very nice work, ladies.” Matt appeared, coming out from an office door behind the reception desk.

Stephanie realized he must have been there all along, listening in to the exchange. Shirley looked surprised, then terrified, suddenly bowing her head and tapping away like mad on the computer keyboard.

Stephanie faced him. “It’s not nice to spy on people.”

“I wasn’t spying…and look who’s talking,” he replied, his eyebrows jumping up a notch.

She knew he was talking about his morning swim again.

She felt a blush creep up her neck and took a steadying breath.

Before she could frame a proper answer, Matt brushed by her and headed for the luggage cart.

“Are you taking that to the storage room?” Stephanie asked.

“I’m taking it to room 505,” he answered, pushing the cart with both hands. “Your talents are obviously needed here, on the battlefront.”

Stephanie was surprised to see him pitch in in such hands-on style. But he did seem like a hands-on type of guy, she noted. A good thing…and a bad thing. Though he’d so far never tried to get his hands on her, she was starting to have the oddest feeling it was just a matter of time.

She watched him push the cart away, putting his strong back and long legs into the job. She wondered how he’d ever gotten started in the hotel business and decided to ask him someday. She had a feeling it was an interesting story.

He was an interesting man. An unusual man. A dynamic personality and yet, with a gentle, charming side, too.

She respected him, she realized. Otherwise, she’d never be able to take all his guff.

But I’m not going to get involved with him, she added firmly, catching herself. No matter how much he flirts with me. Really…I’m just not.

Chapter Four

“Look…a van from the airport just pulled up. Oh, God. I hope it isn’t more guests!”

Stephanie nearly laughed out loud at Helen’s expression. it was the first time she’d ever seen a desk clerk terrified by approaching guests.

“Just take a deep breath. We’ll get through this.”

Stephanie walked across the lobby and then outside toward the van, which was now parked. The door opened and the passengers began emptying out.

A woman in a neat tan business suit approached and held out her hand. Stephanie spied the gold name tag on her lapel and recognized another Harding hotel employee.

She sighed with relief. The reinforcements had arrived.

She greeted each of them as they emerged, then led the group into the hotel for a quick meeting. She explained the situation and the plan to keep the guests happy that had been worked out the night before.

Everyone seemed very professional and eager to help in any way they could. There were only a dozen more bodies to put to work, but every pair of hands helped.

Stephanie gave them each assignments and they headed off in all directions. A short time later, another van of Harding employees arrived and she did the same.

At noon, she checked on the lunch service, another buffet, set up at the pool. Ben Drury decided to fire up the barbecue and wearing his chef’s hat again, happily flipped burgers, hot dogs, shrimp on skewers and grilled chicken breasts. The guests seemed content with the offerings.

Shirley reported that the front desk had checked out a few guests, but nothing extreme. Many seemed occupied on the beach and at the spa. The tactics to keep occupancy up seemed to be working, but just for a little insurance, Stephanie decided to take Helen’s advice and opened the beachfront bar with free blender drinks for all.

Then she called up the band that usually played Saturday night in the lounge, performing a mix of pop tunes and Caribbean sound. She asked them to come over immediately and start early, at the poolside. The group was happy to get the extra work.

The afternoon wore on. The makeshift housekeeping crew managed to get all the rooms in order. The makeshift kitchen staff managed to move from one meal to the next without too many problems. The day was passing quickly and Stephanie ran from crisis to crisis. Sticking her finger in one leak, as another sprang out somewhere else on the boat.

By some miracle, the hotel was up and operating with its makeshift staff. Though just barely. But all the guests seemed to be having a good time and hardly noticed.

That was some achievement, she thought.

But Nana did light a candle for me, she recalled.

She hadn’t seen Matt all day and guessed he was closed up in meetings. Which was just as well, since she didn’t like the idea of him spying on her, the way he had this morning. Especially while she was racing around in “insane mode.”

It was nearly seven o’clock when she finally sat down. She chose a quiet corner in the kitchen and sipped a diet soda. Her feet were aching, but she didn’t dare remove her sensible pumps, for fear of never getting them back on again.

“How are you holding up, Stephanie?” Ben walked over to her. He’d been working in the kitchen all day but seemed cheerful. He’d taken off his tall chef’s hat but still wore an apron.

“I’m good. As soon as this is over I’m getting a foot massage,” she added. “What the heck, I’ll get my entire body done.”

Ben laughed. “You go for it. You deserve it.”

“My sentiments exactly.” Matt suddenly appeared behind Ben and came to stand between them.

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