“I’d like to kiss you.”

The blunt words were out before Ross could consider their tone. But he wouldn’t call them back even if he could have.

“Oh…” Jenna managed.

“I mean, it seems logical.” Right, and physical attraction has nothing to do with it, a more candid part of him mocked. “That way, we’ll have a better basis to, ah, make our decision.”

“So you haven’t reconsidered? You’re still thinking about marriage?”

“I am,” he assured her. “But right now I’d just like to kiss you.”

He lowered his mouth to hers, taking in her subtle floral scent and reminding himself that this was only a kiss. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t savor the moment. At last he forced himself to lift his head, drop the hand still cupped around her silky-smooth chin and take a step back. “I’m prepared to suggest that we take this…all the way.”

Jenna stared up at him, her own breathing far from even. “All the way?”

“To the altar.”

Her Necessary Husband

Sharon Swan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For my agent, Pam Hopkins,

with many thanks for all her support.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Born and raised in Chicago, Sharon Swan once dreamed of dancing for a living. Instead, she surrendered to life’s more practical aspects, settled for an office job, concentrated on typing and being a Chicago Bears fan. Sharon never seriously considered writing as a career until she moved to the Phoenix area and met Pierce Brosnan at a local shopping mall. It was a chance meeting that changed her life, because she found herself thinking, what if? What if two fictional characters had met the same way? That formed the basis for her next novel, and she’s now cheerfully addicted to writing contemporary romance and playing what if?

Sharon loves to hear from readers. You can write to her at P.O. Box 21324, Mesa, AZ 85277.

Books by Sharon Swan

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

912—COWBOYS AND CRADLES

928—HOME-GROWN HUSBAND *

939—HUSBANDS, HUSBANDS…EVERYWHERE!*

966—FOUR-KARAT FIANCÉE

983—HER NECESSARY HUSBAND*

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 One

Something told Jenna Lorenzo that Ross Hayward would not be hiring her as his live-in housekeeper the minute he opened the front door.

Only moments earlier she’d been admiring that door, painted the palest of yellows, and the wreath of sage green leaves topped with delicate dried flowers that hung under a high arch gracefully etched into the smooth wood. Like the rest of the modern two-story home built of narrow bricks shaded a pristine dove gray, the door was a tribute to conservative elegance. Even the well-trimmed front lawn with its neatly shaped borders of low plants sporting a quiet mix of early September blooms was designed to bid visitors a gracious welcome.

Serene, Jenna thought. That was the word that came to mind. She had never worked—and certainly never lived—anywhere quite like this place.

And she wouldn’t be working, or living, here. The polite smile that didn’t quite reach the deep-set navy eyes of the tall man standing in front of her had her all but positive of that.

“Come in, Jenna,” he said in a low voice she’d by no means forgotten from the initial interview he’d conducted several days earlier at Dewitt’s Diner. Despite the business nature of the lunch, she’d felt at ease in the familiar setting, having indulged in one of the downtown diner’s juicy hamburgers along with a mound of crisp fries many times with her friends when she was growing up in Harmony, Arizona.

She didn’t, however, feel anywhere near that same level of ease right now. The truth was that when it came to casually comfortable surroundings, the Hayward home was an entirely different matter.

Just how different Jenna realized full well the moment she stepped into the entryway and found herself confronted by a landscape of sheer white. Carpet, walls, ceiling. Even what living room furniture she could see through an arched opening at one side of the hall featured a white-on-white design. Only a group of pastel prints simply framed in silver and hung at well-spaced intervals provided any hint of true color.

Everything sparkled in the sun slanting through lacy white curtains. Nothing was out of place. It was a scene straight out of a trendy home magazine.

But this was real life, and there were children living here. “How in the world does it stay clean?” Jenna wondered out loud.

“We’ve learned to be careful,” the man at her side said.

The attractive man at her side, she couldn’t help thinking as they made their way to the living room. At one time, as had many girls in town, she’d had a major crush on the Golden Boy—which was how her adolescent eyes had come to view him—with his sun-streaked brown hair and flashing grin. Somehow it had only seemed natural when he’d started dating Cynthia Morgan during his high school days.

A slim blonde with the lightest of blue eyes, Cynthia had swiftly become the other half of the Golden Couple—a couple some had envied for their popularity. They’d married shortly after both graduated from college, Jenna had learned from friends on her recent return to Harmony. It had been, by all accounts, an excellent marriage, one that had quickly produced a beautiful baby daughter, and eventually another.

And then, almost three years ago, Ross Hayward had tragically lost not only his wife but also his mother when the car Cynthia had been driving skidded off a snowy road and crashed.

“Have a seat,” he said. “I’m glad you were able to spare me some time this morning.”

Jenna settled herself on a long sofa while her host chose an overstuffed chair across from her. A chrome-and-glass coffee table with smoothly curved lines as quietly refined as the rest of the room occupied the space between them.

“Actually, I was waiting for your call,” she admitted. “When you said you’d get back to me, I wasn’t sure if you’d want to meet again.” And when he had called her at the home of a friend where she was currently staying and invited her to come over, she’d imagined she was well on her way to being offered the housekeeper’s job. Until she’d seen his expression.

Now even his polite smile had faded. “I meant to get in touch sooner,” he said, “but I had some things to consider.”

What things? Jenna couldn’t help wondering as she folded her arms across the front of her deep tangerine pantsuit. No ready answer came to mind, but there was no denying that her prospective employer—most likely ex-prospective employer—looked far from overjoyed at the moment. He also didn’t look quite as much like a businessman today.

Then again, it was Saturday. Even the top guy at Hayward Investments was allowed to dress down on the weekends, she supposed. Not that his cream-colored knit shirt and well-ironed khaki pants were anywhere near as casual as faded denim, but the outfit still displayed some impressive sights. Strong shoulders snugly outlined by smooth cotton and forearms left bare to reveal lean muscles dotted with swirls of crisp hair readily indicated that this man didn’t spend all his time behind a desk.

Jenna dropped a brief glance down, half expecting to find gleaming leather loafers to complete the picture. Instead she saw no shoes at all, merely dark socks.

“We generally take off our shoes when we come in,” he told her, obviously noticing the direction her gaze had taken.

“Ah, yes, the white carpet,” she summed up with a nod. She dropped another look down, this time at her black pumps.

“You’re a guest, so you get to keep yours on.”

The wry statement had her chuckling. “Thanks,” she said.

Her host cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. “I know your qualifications are top-notch.”

But…He didn’t say it; she heard it, anyway. And what more could she say? He’d checked her references before their lunch. Three couples in the Denver metropolitan area combining dual careers with a bustling family life had confirmed that she’d run their busy households and done a bang-up job of it at a time when they’d needed someone like her most.

Jenna could only agree.

During the seven years since she’d left Nevada—where her father had relocated her family when she was sixteen—for the high plains of Colorado, she had put talents learned at her mother’s side to good use. Combining them with her own love of tackling new challenges, she had built a solid career for herself despite the lack of a college degree—a career she’d still be pursuing in the Denver area if the urge hadn’t hit to revisit her birthplace in Arizona during an unexpected break between jobs.

And then there’d been no question of a permanent return. As she’d come around the last curve on a winding highway lined with tall pines and gazed down on the small, sun-splashed city rimmed by a chain of low mountains northeast of Phoenix, something inside her had recognized it as…home. After more than a dozen years she was home, and she meant to stay.

“Look,” she said, deciding it was time to stop skirting the issue, “I’ll admit I’m more than getting the feeling that for some reason you don’t think I’m right for this position.”

And maybe it wasn’t right for her, she mused, all at once aware of precisely how attractive this specific member of the male species was—not to the female half of the population in general, which was probably a given, but to her in particular.

Good heavens, she couldn’t still have a crush on Ross Hayward, former Golden Boy. That would be ridiculous.

“Why don’t we just declare this visit over?” she suggested, then slanted a sidelong look out a curtained window and waited for the expected agreement.

Rather than simply concurring, however, the man seated across from her held back a grimace at her abruptly brisk tone. He hadn’t meant, Ross thought, to be quite so obvious about having reservations where this woman was concerned—reservations resulting from a recent conversation he had no trouble recalling.

“People are bound to talk if a widowed man still in his early thirties hires a single woman in her twenties as a live-in housekeeper,” Tom Kennedy, Harmony’s veteran police chief, had pointed out when Ross had stopped by police headquarters for a brief chat after his initial interview with Jenna. And hard on the heels of that statement, Ross remembered, the longtime friend of the Hayward family had gone on to share some news.

“Normally, I’d say it’s your choice on whether to just ignore the gossip,” Tom had told him. “But voters gossip, too, and you know our mayor is pushing seventy, and I’ve heard he may not decide to run again. That means we could wind up with another Hayward in the mayor’s office next year, provided you’re interested.”

And he was interested. Ross couldn’t deny that. His grandfather had been the last Mayor Hayward, and it was a sure bet that the old man, rest his stubbornly upright soul, would have counted on his direct descendant and the sole grandson to bear the Hayward name to try to follow in his footsteps. Especially since the old man’s only son had already left a black mark on the pages of the family history.

Ross knew it could be argued that he had been an upstanding citizen of Harmony right from the day he’d been born into one of the founding families first to settle the city. For generations most Haywards had been dedicated to getting things done and had won respect for their achievements. As time passed, some residents had even come to expect Haywards to set an example of what good stock and hard work could accomplish.

What no one had expected a Hayward man to do was to walk out on his wife of many years and head off to Southern California to live the life of an aging playboy. Which was exactly what his father had done, Ross thought grimly. And if he hoped to be mayor in spite of Martin Hayward’s hardly admirable behavior, it could only be smart to look after his own good standing in the community.

So, taking all of that into account, he’d been having a devil of a time making up his mind about whether to offer Jenna Lorenzo the job.

There was no question that he needed to fill the position—and fairly soon, what with Myra Hastings having to leave at the end of the month to care for her elderly mother full-time. But replacing his middle-aged housekeeper with a younger person who, while perhaps no true beauty, was still a striking-looking woman, might not be the wisest course he’d come to recognize.

And now that woman had just handed him an easy out.

The thing was, for some reason he found himself reluctant to take it. Not yet, anyway.

“Let’s not be too quick to throw in the towel,” he told her.

A fast frown formed on his visitor’s brow as she pulled her gaze away from the window. “I don’t understand. Either you want to hire me or—”

“Daddy!” a young voice wailed, breaking into the conversation. A rosy-cheeked blonde dressed in a pink cotton top with matching pants soon appeared in the doorway to the living room. She was a six-year-old bundle of usually cheerful energy. Yet despite her angelic looks, Ross knew full well she could sometimes be as mischievous as a pint-size imp.

“My daughter Katie,” he explained to his guest before fixing his attention on his youngest child. “What’s wrong, sunshine?”

Katie brushed back a small tear as she ran to him. “Pandora lost her hair again!” She held out a doll wearing a well-worn yellow satin gown and sporting a jumble of deep auburn curls.

Ross studied the object in question. It was a collector’s item more than a child’s toy, but his mother had presented it to Katie on her third birthday, anyway, with the warning to be careful when she played with it. Reality had, of course, stepped in; the doll had clearly seen better days. Nevertheless, Katie continued to favor it over most of her other toys.

“We’ll try to glue it on one more time,” he said, lifting his gaze from the delicate porcelain forehead sadly lacking a wide fringe of bangs. “Where’s the part that fell off?”

“I don’t know. Myra said it could be in the vacuum cleaner, ’cause she cleaned this morning.” Katie’s lower lip trembled. “Can you get it out, Daddy?”

Ross held back a sigh. “Even if I could find it,” he explained as gently as possible, “it would probably be in too bad a shape to save it.”

“But you could,” Jenna pointed out as she entered the discussion, “cut off some of what’s left and make a new hairdo.”

Him? Provide a doll with an entirely different hairdo? Ross couldn’t even imagine it. “I’m not sure I could do that if my life depended on it,” he admitted dryly.

“Could you?” Katie asked, spinning around.

Ross sat forward. “Katie, this is Ms. Lorenzo,” he said, completing the introduction.

Jenna smiled softly. “Pleased to meet you, Katie. May I see your doll for a minute?”

“Sure.” Katie took a seat beside Jenna and handed Pandora over. “Do you know how to do hair stuff?” She studied the woman next to her with a doubtful tilt of her head.

“Mmm-hmm.” Jenna’s smile took a knowing slant. “I wear my hair straight back like this,” she explained, smoothing a hand over the thick coil at the nape of her neck, “because it’s long, and this is the best way to keep it neat.”

“How long?”

“Almost to my waist.”

“Wow.” Katie’s eyes went wide. “How do you wash it?”

“It takes time,” Jenna allowed. She inspected the doll. “One of my sisters has hair this color. And another one has naturally curly hair she keeps short, like yours.”

Katie folded her small hands in her lap. “How many sisters and brothers have you got?”

“No brothers. Three younger sisters. And I helped all three fix their hair while they were growing up.”

Katie mulled that over. “Maybe Pandora could wear her hair like the twins on the TV show I watch sometimes after school.”

“You might be on to something there,” Jenna agreed after a moment, clearly recognizing the show in question when Ross had no clue. Myra wouldn’t, either, he knew, despite the fact that she was here every day when his daughters got home from school.

His current housekeeper was a fine person in her own right who cooked good, healthy meals, kept his house sparkling clean and could be trusted without question to watch over his children whenever he was away. Yet, for all of Myra’s virtues, taking time from her busy day to watch a kid’s television show with Katie on occasion would simply not have occurred to her.

But it obviously would to Jenna.

While a spirited discussion of how the new hairdo might be best achieved continued, Ross found himself wondering how his visitor would look with her own midnight-dark hair spilling past her shoulders and down her back.

Exotic, he decided. Yet classically female, as well. In fact, her oval-shaped face with its straight nose, high cheekbones and fine, creamy skin—not to mention those chestnut-brown eyes that slanted up slightly at the corners—would probably look right at home in a painting by one of the old masters.

As to the rest of her, he couldn’t make out enough to judge. Both of the tailored outfits he’d seen her in so far were by no means formfitting. Still, although she was several inches shorter than his own six-feet-plus, petite wasn’t the word that came to mind. Not when he suspected that a full figure with plenty of curves might be lurking out of sight.

Whatever the case, she’d been in his thoughts ever since their initial meeting. Something about her had captured his attention, that was plain. Something that might turn out to have little to do with her qualifications as housekeeper, if he wanted to investigate the matter further.

One thing for certain, when it came to her qualifications, she was the right choice to run his household, as he’d concluded soon after she’d offered her credentials. If he’d had the least lingering doubts about that, the way she was currently chatting so easily with Katie would have routed them once and for all.

Too bad Tom Kennedy had hit the nail on the head, Ross thought, recognizing that more than ever as his hooded gaze silently told him in no uncertain terms just how striking Jenna Lorenzo was—how vivid, how…alive she looked against a backdrop of almost total white. People were bound to talk if she moved in and took Myra’s place. Despite Harmony’s genuinely friendly atmosphere, gossip was a fact of life.

And the truth was that even if he chose to ignore the gossip, he was a long way from certain he’d be doing the fair thing by subjecting this woman to it.

Logic said to just tell her face to face that it wouldn’t work out and to thank her for her trouble, which he’d undeniably been of more than half a mind to do when she’d arrived on his doorstep. On the other hand, something that went beyond pure logic was still urging him not to let her go so easily.

Ross frowned at the knowledge that he had to make up his mind before his prospective housekeeper decided he’d left her hanging long enough and walked out on him.

JENNA SOMEHOW FOUND herself seated at a round, glass-topped kitchen table, a pair of shiny scissors and a small tube of clear glue set in front of her on a gray-and-white-checked place mat. Moments earlier she’d learned that the deep blue eyes belonging to the youngest member of the Hayward household could be very persuasive when attempting a woeful look. Even before Katie had followed it up with a whispered, “Please,” Jenna had suspected that her immediate future would include treating Pandora to a new hairdo.

Probably only an objection from the man now seated beside her would have changed her fate, she reflected as she placed a silver-gray linen dishtowel trimmed in lace around the doll’s neck. Instead, Ross had merely suggested that they adjourn to the rear of the house, where he’d again played host, offering refreshment and providing what materials she needed to get the job done. Then he’d settled into a chrome-backed chair in his not surprisingly gleaming kitchen and seemed to sink into his thoughts, as he had during most of their time in the living room.

What was he thinking so hard about? Jenna had to wonder. And was she going to be offered the position or not?

“Myra’s gonna be surprised to see how Pandora looks when she gets back.” Katie tucked small feet snuggled into pink socks under her and leaned in from her seat at Jenna’s other side. “Do you start cutting now?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Jenna sat the doll on the table, picked up the scissors and carefully began her task, her eyes narrowing for a better look. Her thoughts drifted to the brief meeting that had taken place in the hallway outside the kitchen just before Myra Hastings, a tall, thin woman with short salt-and-pepper hair, had left to visit her elderly mother who remained hospitalized after a stroke.

The housekeeper’s greeting could hardly be classified as warm, not when she’d explained, oh, so primly, that it took a great deal of effort to keep a home like this in tiptop shape. Plainly she knew, although Ross hadn’t said as much during his introduction, that Jenna had applied to replace her. And the older woman wasn’t exactly impressed. The question was: how much would Myra’s opinion count with her employer?

Certainly he didn’t seem any happier now than he had earlier. No, less, Jenna concluded, slanting a glance his way. But even with the corners of his mouth turned down and a deep frown marring his brow, he still looked good to her.

Probably too good.

“There, I think that’s enough off,” she told Katie, mustering a cheerful tone for the little girl’s sake. “Now we’ll glue on some new bangs and cut them on an angle, just like the television twins wear theirs.”

When the job was finally done, Katie clapped her hands and wasted no time in offering her judgment. “Pandora looks neat!”

“She looks very nice,” another young voice politely chimed in from behind Jenna. Startled, she turned around to find herself being calmly studied by light, clear blue eyes, a sight that instantly reminded her of the woman Ross Hayward had married. This slender-as-a-reed girl with straight, shoulder-length blond hair could only be Cynthia Morgan’s child.

The man of the house proceeded to introduce his eldest daughter, Caroline, who shook hands with the quiet courtesy of someone far older than her own ten years. Again he made no reference as to why their visitor was there. This time it had Jenna more than suspecting that the children weren’t aware of her status as a potential employee, as Myra plainly had been. They probably thought she was an acquaintance of their father’s.

Or a girlfriend.

No, not hardly, she informed herself in the next breath, belatedly reminded of what seemed to be common knowledge in Harmony—there had been no woman in Ross Hayward’s life since his wife’s death. As far as his children were concerned, their current visitor was no doubt a friend, and the most casual kind, at that. Which was fine with her, Jenna thought. And she would be fine, as well, regardless of whether she got this job or not.

“I recently moved back to Harmony after being away for several years,” she told Caroline, summoning a smile, “and I’m very glad I did.”

The girl’s own soft smile broke through. “It’s a good place to live, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“It’s cool,” Katie added.

Caroline straightened a fold of the powder-blue shirtwaist dress she wore with ballerina-style blue slippers and looked at her sister. “Cool means the weather,” she said in a small lecture. “It has nothing to do with a city.”

“Does, too,” Katie quickly countered, lifting her little chin.

Well acquainted with how easily sibling arguments could erupt, although she couldn’t imagine her own lively family ever butting heads over something as formal as a question of grammar, Jenna stepped into the breech. “Whatever the case,” she said, “Harmony happens to be where I was born a loo-ong time ago.”

Ross leaned back in his chair and found his mood lightening as the stretched-out word, issued with an exaggerated flutter of his visitor’s dark lashes, had both girls abruptly giggling. The sound was music to his ears.

Yes, he reflected with assurance, this was exactly what the daughters he loved more than anything in the world needed, and what had been behind his thought to hire a younger housekeeper in the first place. They needed someone who could joke with them on occasion as well as care for them. Someone who could offer a female perspective on things and fill a gap he couldn’t hope to fill. His daughters could only benefit from having a young, vibrant woman in their lives, no question about it.

And so would he, he knew. But in his case, it would have to go beyond having someone around to take care of his household. He wouldn’t satisfy any of the private needs that had begun to build inside him by hiring a housekeeper, any housekeeper. He needed something else. Something more.

Hell, what he really needed was a wife.

Which, in his more candid moments, he’d been telling himself for a while now. Not only would it give his daughters a motherly influence and provide some physical comforts for himself, it could also lead to more children, maybe even the son he would desperately like to have while he was young enough to do a good job of being a father to an active boy. Marrying again, and sooner rather than later, might well be the best solution all around, he’d conceded more than once. Trouble was, no single woman of his acquaintance even stirred his interest…except the one who had recently returned to Harmony. The more time he spent with Jenna Lorenzo, the more he was beginning to recognize that fact.

“Daddy, are you that old?”

Ross brought his attention back to the discussion, realizing he’d missed a turn in the conversation. “What?” was all he could ask in response to Katie’s question.

“Ms. Lorenzo said you were older than she is,” Caroline explained in her usual calm manner.

“Way older is what she said,” Katie tacked on.

He shot Jenna a look and found her eyes lit with amusement, as though she hadn’t been able to resist that little zinger. “If four years is way older,” he said dryly, “then I suppose I am.”

With that issue cleared up, Katie jumped to her feet. “I’m gonna put Pandora to bed for a nap.”

Jenna removed the towel from the doll’s neck. “Better let her sit up awhile longer to make sure the glue’s set.”

“Okay. I’ll sit her in her rocking chair.”

Caroline reached for the scissors and glue. “I’ll put these away, Dad.”

Ross nodded to his eldest child. “Thanks, princess.”

“You have two wonderful daughters,” Jenna told him when the children had left.

“I’m in total agreement on that score.” He sat forward and rested his forearms on the table. “And what can I say but thank you?”

She switched around to fully face him and frankly met his gaze. “You could say whether I’m going to be offered the job.”

Well, this was it, he thought. Despite her qualifications, he knew the chances of that particular relationship working out were slim to none. Added to his earlier reservations about offering her the position, seeing her in his home had led to his viewing her in a different, and far more personal, light. The sheer truth was that he’d become too aware of her as a woman, and a desirable one at that, to regard her as merely an employee.

He released a gusty breath. “No, I’m afraid not.”

“All right,” Jenna said after a silent second. She gave him the briefest of smiles as she scooted back her chair. “You must have things to do. I won’t take up any more of your time.”

Ross knew he could have summoned a courteous smile in return and seen her to the door. With his contacts, he could even have offered to help her find another job. And he would, in fact, have done both without hesitation—if he could have actually stood back and watched Jenna Lorenzo walk out of his daughters’ lives. Out of his life.

But he couldn’t.

Every instinct he had—instincts that had served him well in the business world—had begun to tell him in no uncertain terms that he could only benefit from doing his damnedest to further another sort of relationship with this striking-looking woman. A private relationship.

“If you’ll give me a few more minutes,” he said before she could step away from the table, “I’d like to discuss, not the housekeeper’s position, but something else entirely.”

Her brow furrowed as she looked down at him. “What else is there to discuss?”

He met her question with a blunt one of his own, deciding to just plunge in. “Would you consider going out with me?”

Even as he watched, a blank expression wiped every trace of emotion from her face. Moments passed before she issued yet another question.

“I came here to talk about a job, and you’re asking me out on a date?”

“Yes.” Jeez, how did he put what he was thinking into words when he was still groping his way through it in his own mind? “But it could lead to…something more. And I don’t mean an affair,” he added before she could misunderstand him.

While his body wouldn’t have protested much—not with this particular female—he knew that an affair was the last thing he wanted to start. It wouldn’t provide what his children deserved to have in their lives. Or what he needed beyond the rewards of a purely physical relationship, for that matter. Because, if he chose to look to what the future might bring and view things from a strictly practical standpoint, taking a lover also wouldn’t help in conducting a mayoral campaign.

No, it all boiled down to the fact that what he had to have to meet both his current and potential needs was a—

“Then what do you mean by, ah, something more?” Jenna asked, her tone wary as she broke into his thoughts.

“What I mean is…” He met her gaze, noting that her frown had not only reappeared but deepened. She hardly looked ready to go out with him at the moment, that was for sure.

If he didn’t get on with this, he told himself, she’d be headed for the door. He hadn’t missed the barest hint of temper glinting in her eyes; he had a temper himself, although he seldom displayed it. It also hadn’t escaped his notice that in addition to her growing irritation with his drawn-out explanation, she was fast coming to the conclusion that he was acting strange.

And after he said what he was about to say…Hell, she just might think he was flat-out crazy.

But he was saying it, anyway.

“If we started seeing each other and it goes well,” he told her, measuring out the words, “how would you feel about possibly marrying me?”

Chapter Two

Jenna’s jaw dropped. In the next instant she sank back into her chair and hit the seat with enough force to snap her mouth closed and rattle her teeth. Then she stilled completely and groped to take in what she had just heard.

How would she feel about marrying him? Him? Ross Hayward, once half of the Golden Couple, talking about walking down the aisle again with her. Her? No, he couldn’t have meant it!

“I must,” she said, finding her voice at last, “have misunderstood you. You weren’t—you couldn’t have been—talking about the two of us and…marriage.”

He studied her for moment. “I was.”

Now she had to suck in a breath, a big one. As her lungs filled, a short study of her own told her that he really did mean it. His watchful expression was far too serious to reach any other conclusion. Good Lord. Even in her wildest adolescent dreams, she’d never imagined that this man would ever consider asking her to marry him.

Then again, he wasn’t asking now, she reminded herself as the brain she normally put to good use began to recover from the undeniable jolt to its circuits. He’d mentioned possibly getting married, which was a far cry from an actual proposal.

“Maybe I’d better go into a few more details as to what I had in mind,” he said.

She cleared her throat. “Details,” she couldn’t help but say, “would be good.”

He sat forward and propped his elbows on the table. “First off, I’d like to get something straight. I’m not currently involved with anyone, and I take it, since you just recently returned to Harmony, that the same is true in your case.”

“It is,” Jenna agreed. Not only wasn’t she currently involved with a man, she had, in fact, been extremely careful for some time when it came to personal relationships with the opposite sex. The truth was, she’d been burned once, badly, and she had no wish to repeat the experience. She dated on and off when it suited her, but live-in housekeepers didn’t have much chance for a private life, and she’d accepted the restrictions.

“Then since we’re free in that regard,” Ross continued, “marrying each other could have some definite benefits for both of us.”

She was slowly getting his drift. “You mean that, rather than just a housekeeper, you’d have a wife to take care of things around here.”

“You’re right, of course,” he conceded, “but more than that, I would have a mother for Caroline and Katie.”

“And that’s important to you,” she summed up, all at once sure of her words as she looked him straight in the eye and saw the clear reality of the matter reflected in his gaze.

“It is,” he confirmed. And with that quiet acknowledgment, he went on to explain how he felt his daughters needed a younger woman’s influence in their lives. “I think it’s going to be even more important as they get closer to being teenagers,” he added, “and Caroline’s already on the brink.”

Jenna could hardly disagree, remembering how her own mother had dealt so well with her four girls. “I can’t deny that the mother-daughter relationship is important. Having a large family meant that both my parents had to work to make ends meet while I was growing up, and I remember how I sometimes couldn’t wait for my mother to get home—for more reasons than one, I’ll admit, as I got older. As the eldest child, I was often in charge of the younger girls once I was big enough to take on some responsibility, and it wasn’t always easy.”

He nodded. “That’s why I would prefer a stay-at-home mom for my kids, and in this case, living on my salary alone wouldn’t pose a problem.”

“No, I expect not,” Jenna replied. Which, she realized, was an understatement. Haywards had been among the more successful of Harmony’s residents for many years. None had ever been truly wealthy, but comfortably well-off would certainly apply, especially when compared with such families as the Lorenzos. The city didn’t have a bad side of town, so Jenna couldn’t honestly say she’d been born on the “wrong side of the tracks” from Ross Hayward. Nevertheless, a social gap remained between them. At least it would in some people’s eyes.

And now he was suggesting they date with the possible goal of marriage? Her eyes narrowed of their own accord. “Are you sure you don’t want to hire me as housekeeper?”

For the first time in many minutes, his lips curved in a smile. “I’m sure.” His gaze never wavered from hers.

“And the position we’re currently discussing would be far more permanent, when you think about it. You would have a secure future, financially and otherwise.”

And what about love?

Jenna didn’t voice the silent question. She didn’t have to. She knew this man loved his daughters; that was more than apparent. But his emotions weren’t involved in the bargain he’d just put forward. How could they be when he’d only really known her for a matter of days?

She was certain he didn’t remember her or her family from their earlier years in Harmony. He had no clue as to how she had once mooned over him, right along with most of the girls her age. To him, she was a known quantity in the fact that she had a history here, but he didn’t actually know her.

Of course, despite that, he obviously believed she had certain qualities that went hand in hand with being a good parent. And when it came to a wife…

“So what you’re suggesting is a potential marriage of convenience?” she asked very carefully.

“Not exactly.” He exhaled a short breath. “It might be based somewhat on convenience, I’ll admit, but I’d want it to be a real marriage in every sense of the word.”

There was no mistaking the candid look in his eyes. “You mean, a…physical relationship.”

“Yes.”

The single word had her pulse fluttering. “I see.”

“But I wouldn’t push you on that,” he added. “Even if we became husband and wife, I’d give you however much time you needed to feel more comfortable with the situation.”

“I see,” she repeated after another brief pause.

“I’ll also be up-front about the fact that I’d like to have more children. Would you like some of your own?”

“Yes,” she replied, this time without hesitation. She couldn’t deny that she had hoped to have children someday.

“Good,” he told her. “If we do decide to make that a, uh, joint project, it would be up to you to set the timetable, although I’d personally prefer not to wait too long to have another child.” He paused for a beat. “For now, all I’m asking is that you give this whole matter some thought.”

“Maybe you’d better give it some more thought first,” she found herself saying with blunt directness.

His sudden grin was wry. “I promise you I haven’t gone off the deep end. I’m one of the most sound and sensible of the Haywards. You can ask just about anyone in this town.”

She didn’t have to. Successful businessmen hardly made a habit of acting on a whim, and Jenna had to concede that the reasons he’d given for getting married again were logical enough.

“Have you considered how your daughters would feel about your remarrying?” she asked.

His expression sobered. “I’m not saying that the change wouldn’t have its rocky moments. There are bound to be some. But everything I’ve done since the day they were born has been with their happiness in mind, believe me.”

She believed him. In fact, his solemn tone made her wonder if he had already given up some of his own happiness in exchange for theirs. No, that was ridiculous, she told herself in the next breath. This man had been part of the ideal family. Whatever happiness he’d lost had been stripped from him by fate when he’d lost the perfect woman to share his life.

Jenna sighed to herself. How would that woman’s successor, no matter who she was, ever be able to compete with perfection?

“SO YOU DIDN’T get the housekeeper’s spot, but he wants to possibly offer you the job of wife.” Peggy O’Brien’s aquamarine eyes were wide, the flush of excitement on her cheeks nearly as red as the shiny curls brushing her shoulders. “What in the world did you tell him?”

“I finally agreed to think about it.” Jenna lounged back in a well-worn recliner set in one corner of a cozy family room, thinking that the O’Brien home, a ranch-style house located on a cheerfully rowdy street in a middle-class neighborhood filled with children, was usually a place that promoted relaxation. Unfortunately it wasn’t having that effect on her tonight.

She’d waited until Peggy’s five-year-old son, Tyler, had been put to bed and her loving husband, Jack, was puttering in his workshop off the garage before sharing that day’s startling events with her longtime friend from grammar school. When Peggy and Jack had invited her to stay with them during her job search, she had readily accepted.

“You have to think about the chance to marry Ross Hayward?” From her seat on a plump chintz sofa, Peggy crossed her arms over the front of the white T-shirt she wore with jeans and shook her head in wonder. “He’s got everything going for him, Jen. Looks, smarts, an excellent reputation in the community and a good income coming in from his business. He is definite husband material and—” Peggy wiggled a reddish brown eyebrow “—the man is probably one heck of a lover, as well.”

“He’s also a man who isn’t madly in love with me,” Jenna reminded her. “As I’ve explained, this wouldn’t be a traditional marriage. More one of convenience, in fact, than anything.”

“Hmm.” Peggy’s gaze narrowed thoughtfully. “Does that mean separate beds?”

Jenna cleared her throat. “Maybe in the beginning,” she replied, “but he frankly expects that to end at some point.”

“So the relationship wouldn’t be minus the normal physical aspects,” Peggy summed up. “Probably not for too long, at any rate. Which means you’d have the opportunity to find out exactly how good a lover he is.”

At the moment Jenna couldn’t imagine sharing a bed with the man who’d rendered her speechless that day. “I won’t be finding out anything if he never actually proposes. Or if he does, for that matter, and I decide to decline.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Peggy said. “You actually think you can turn this guy down?”

Because she was a long way from sure of the answer, Jenna countered with a question of her own. “Why not? Most people, even the least romantic of them, would probably think twice about entering into this kind of marriage, you know. Plus there’s the fact that I’m me. And he’s…him.”

“If you’re implying that you weren’t born high enough on the social ladder for him, Jen, my temper is going to get the better of me.”

Peggy’s staunch defense of her—their—less-than-upscale roots had Jenna smiling a truly genuine smile for the first time in hours. “No, I’m not implying that,” she said. “But you can’t argue the fact that Ross Hayward and I were born into very different kinds of families.”

Peggy raised one delicately boned shoulder in a shrug. “So what? Diversity isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Could be the Haywards would even profit from some new blood being added to the mix.”

“They seem to be doing just fine with the mix they have.” Jenna had to say it. “As far back as I can recall, they’ve been a good-looking bunch, and the two young girls I met today are certainly no exception.”

“Yes, ‘angelically fair’ would describe both whenever I’ve seen them around town, I agree. But then, how could they miss with the combination of genes from their father and…” Peggy’s voice trailed off as she steepled her fingers and tapped them together. “I think we’re getting to the heart of the matter here,” she continued after a second. “Unless I’m badly mistaken, your reluctance to consider the many merits of strolling down the aisle with the biggest catch in town has a lot to do with who he married first.”

Busted, Jenna reflected with a rueful twist of her mouth. “Okay, so maybe it does. But, my Lord, Peg, he had Cynthia Morgan to come home to every evening.” And to go to bed with every night. “You have to remember how she always looked—and acted.”

“Uh-huh. The stunning blonde with the polished poise most of our particular group would have given our eyeteeth to have at the time we were going through our awkward stage,” Peggy said. “Then again, she was older than we were.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” Jenna advised. “Cynthia never had an awkward stage. She probably entered the world holding her tiny head high and greeting the doctor who delivered her with a gracious smile.”

“And you’re thinking that she’d be a hard act to follow,” Peggy surmised with a shrewd glance.

Jenna could hardly deny it. “Sure, I am. What woman who knew her could resist thinking along those lines?”

“Maybe none—but you’re the woman he’s at least considering making wife number two,” Peggy reminded her. “And not because he’d have any trouble finding someone else to wear his ring if he wanted to put the least bit effort into it, as we both know. Instead, though, he’s apparently setting his sights on you. Whatever his reasons, that has to count for something.”

“Yes, it does,” Jenna acknowledged. Truth be told, she couldn’t help feeling flattered. Not that it would be wise to get too caught up in that feeling, her more practical side told her. Still, no matter what it said, her pulse picked up a beat every time her mind drifted back to that afternoon.

To him. “You can handle whatever you have to if you take that walk down the aisle,” Peggy declared, regaining Jenna’s attention. “Ross Hayward isn’t the only one who has a lot going for him.”

“Oh, if the whole thing ever came to pass, I can deal with the cooking and housekeeping part,” Jenna said with confidence, although honesty forced her to admit, privately anyway, that Myra Hastings might not be an easy act to follow, either. Not when it came to maintaining a spotless house decorated mainly in white—or as much of it as Jenna had seen, anyway.

“You can handle the mothering part, too,” Peggy assured her. “You not only helped raise your sisters, but from what you tell me, you’ve had recent experience riding herd on kids, as well. Heaven knows, you already have Tyler wrapped around your finger. You didn’t scream when he pulled out the fake spider that looks real enough, goodness knows. It’s made you tops on his list.”

“He’s a great kid,” Jenna pronounced without hesitation, and fully meant it.

Peggy grinned a plainly proud grin at that compliment to her offspring. “Thanks. Watching you with him, it’s easy to see that you like children, and I’ll bet they generally like you, which goes a long way toward what’s needed to make a good mother, at least as far as I’m concerned.”

Jenna mulled that over for a second. “I guess you have a point there. To me, caring about kids—not just caring for their needs—has to be a prime ingredient in what makes a good mother. And stepmother, too,” she added firmly.

“I don’t see you as a wicked one, that’s for sure,” Peggy murmured with a twinkle in her eye.

But would the two girls she’d met hours earlier come to view her in that light? Jenna knew that was the real question. There might well be rocky times ahead in that area, as their father had frankly conceded. Nevertheless, as he’d also contended, they would ultimately benefit from having a younger woman in their lives. It by no means had to be her, Jenna readily admitted, but having someone around to fill that role would be a plus.

Peggy sat forward. “And now we come to the wife part.”

“Yes, well.” Jenna ran her tongue around her teeth. “That particular subject is far from clear at the moment.”

“You don’t have to be Cynthia,” Peggy assured her, reading her like a book. “You just have to be you.”

“I can only be me,” Jenna replied, realizing the truth of that. When all was said and done, she was who she was, and she’d been comfortable with that for some time. Nonetheless, she also recognized that who she was might suffer in comparison to what many would consider a sterling example of perfect womanhood.

Jenna Lorenzo was by no stretch of the imagination perfect.

“So are you at least going to give this whole thing some real thought?” Peggy asked.

“I suppose I’ll have to,” Jenna said with a wry curve of her lips, “because the man in question has already talked me into going out with him for dinner on Friday night.”

Peggy’s grin came back full force, lighting up her elfin face. “Well, if nothing else, you’ll be going out on a date with Ross Hayward. At one point in my life, I would have stood on my head and sung every rowdy rock tune I knew—backward—to be able to do the same.”

Jenna had to laugh. “Me, too, as well you know.”

But that was long ago, and the upcoming event wasn’t precisely the normal kind of first date. It wouldn’t be a casual get-to-know-you occasion. Or only on the surface, perhaps. Underneath, far more serious matters were in the balance, ones that would demand answers before too long.

With Myra Hastings leaving in a matter of weeks, Ross Hayward had no choice but to make some arrangements. He would either be hiring another housekeeper—which wouldn’t be her, Jenna knew. Or he’d be taking a wife—which might be her.

In fact, he seemed more than willing to consider her for the latter position. The woman she’d become realized it was so, even if the girl who would always remain a part of her still couldn’t quite believe it.

HE WAS RUSTY at this dating business.

Ross couldn’t help but acknowledge that truth as he pulled out a chair for Jenna at one of the quieter eating spots in Harmony. He’d been out of college for only months the last time he’d ventured on a date as a single man. Not long afterward, he’d become a husband, and then years later, a widower with little desire to ask any female out.

Nevertheless, despite his lengthy break from the dating scene, the Mountain Meadows Café had seemed like a good bet for tonight. Not as starchy as the dining room at the Founders Club, where he continued to maintain a membership yet seldom visited these days. And not as casual as the diner where he’d chosen to conduct a job interview with the woman seated across from him, her deep burgundy evening suit providing a colorful contrast to both his own charcoal-brown suit and the pale tablecloth.

“This is nice,” she said, glancing around. Her small ruby earrings sparkled in the flickering glow of the single candle resting in the center of the table.

Again she wore her hair caught back in a thick coil at the nape of her neck. And again he wondered how it would look flowing like a dark waterfall down her back.

He also had to wonder if he would ever find out. If he would ever get the chance the run his hands through those gleaming strands. If…

Ross took in a breath and reined in his wandering thoughts. “The view is one of the best around,” he told his companion.

“It has to be.” Jenna studied a picture-postcard scene through the wall of clear windows beside her. Even in the growing darkness, enough light remained to make out the tall pines dotting the side of a low mountain.

“Would you like a cocktail or some wine to start things off?” he asked.

She opted for white wine, and he ordered a bottle of Chardonnay when the young waiter approached. He’d decided to join her despite the fact that a premium brand of Scotch on the rocks was his usual drink, one a long line of Hayward men had favored. Even his father, he thought, hadn’t broken with tradition there.

Silence fell between them on the waiter’s departure, as if neither knew exactly what to say next, until Ross picked up his menu and offered some comments on meals he’d enjoyed at the Mountain Meadows in the past.

“I don’t think you can go wrong with any of the fish selections,” he said. “The last time I was here, I had the grilled salmon and certainly didn’t regret it.”

“As it happens, I like fish.” Jenna studied her menu. “Even tuna fish is a hit with me. I used to have to fight a cat I once had for it. I swear Bingo had a sixth sense that brought him running every time I opened a can, no matter how quietly.”

“Was that when you lived in Nevada?”

Jenna looked up and hesitated for a brief moment. “Yes. What made you think that might be the case?”

He lifted one shoulder in an offhand shrug. “Bingo, cards, gambling. They seem to fit.”

“I suppose so.” She closed her menu. “I’m going to take your recommendation and try the salmon.”

He decided on the pan-fried trout and again searched for a subject of conversation once the wine appeared and their orders were taken. He could have asked Jenna more about her days in Nevada—would have, if he hadn’t noted how she’d put a subtle yet swift end to the earlier conversational turn.

A sign that she’d rather not discuss that particular time in her life? Could be, he concluded, mindful of the fact that there were times in his own life he had no wish to discuss, either.

He finally settled on food as a safe bet. “What do you like to cook?”

“Pasta is one of my favorites.” Jenna sipped her wine. “Goodness knows, I ate enough of it when I was a kid. My mother makes the best red sauce ever. I learned from watching her, so I’m pretty good at it myself.” She paused. “Can you cook?”

“Not really. Then again, my mother never had a great deal of interest in that area, either.”

She met his gaze. “I assume you had a housekeeper to take care of kitchen duties when you were growing up.”

“Uh-huh. We had several over the years, as a matter of fact.” But none of them ever looked like you, Ross added to himself.

“And after you got married?”

He ran a long finger down the smooth stem of his glass. “Cynthia preferred to run her own household,” he said. And then it was his turn to change the subject, because his former marriage was one of the things he’d just as soon not discuss. “How do you like the wine?”

Whether conscious of it or not, Jenna returned his earlier favor by readily going along with the switch in topics. “It’s excellent.” She glanced down at her clear goblet and the golden liquid it held. “Very smooth.”

As the evening continued, Ross couldn’t help but wish he were half as smooth when it came to wining and dining a woman. But all in all, it wasn’t going too badly, he decided when they’d done justice to two good meals and lingered over after-dinner coffee. Thankfully they’d found one subject that seemed to suit them both when it came to maintaining a steady flow of conversation, and that was Harmony itself.

It almost—but not quite—kept his thoughts from drifting to something he’d been asking himself in the back of his mind since halfway through dinner.

When they arrived back at the house where Jenna was staying, should he kiss her good-night?

Ross cleared his throat. “I’ll never forget when we had the record snowfall,” he said in another bid to silence the nagging question for which he had no firm answer. “I must have been around twelve, and I remember standing chest-high in one of the drifts.”

Jenna sipped her coffee. “That was the year it was nearly over my head in spots.”

“And did you build the biggest snowman you could, as I did?”

“Mmm-hmm. My sisters and I made fast work of it, too, since snow seldom lasted for long here. We tied a bright red scarf around his neck, as I recall, and thought he looked very dashing—until he started to lean to one side and promptly fell over. Then we consoled ourselves with a snowball fight.”

“I recall a few of those myself,” he told her. “Being an only child, I relied on my friends and a cousin around my age to provide a satisfying battle. We usually wound up half burying each other in the stuff.”

Jenna laughed, and found that it felt good. Somehow the thought of very young Ross Hayward covered from tip to toe with snow put her more at ease. It wasn’t like her to let her nerves rule, which they mostly had since he’d arrived on the O’Brien doorstep to pick her up. She usually had a much better hold on them.

Certainly her escort had done nothing to foil her efforts in that respect, either. This might not be quite the normal version of a first date, but so far he’d made no reference to the startling suggestion he’d come up with days earlier. She could only be thankful that he hadn’t brought it up again, because at this point she was still a long way from sure how she would respond if he actually wound up proposing.

At the moment it was far easier to put herself to the task of being a genial companion. With that in mind she kept up her end of a casual conversation, which remained centered on the past as they talked about the grammar school they’d attended and the first-grade teacher who’d taught several generations of the city’s residents.

“I haven’t seen Miss Hester since I got back,” Jenna said. “I wonder if she’d remember me.”

“My guess is she would,” Ross replied. “Although she’s over eighty now, she’s still as sharp as a tack. I think she really runs half the town, although no one will admit it.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. I could never get away with anything with her,” Jenna confessed.

He leaned back in his chair. “Neither could I, despite the fact that we’re related, at least through marriage.”

Now Jenna was surprised. “You are?”

“Yes. My grandfather married Hester Goodbody’s sister.”

Harmony was indeed, she thought, a small community. “I do know that your grandfather was mayor at one time.”

“That’s right. And,” he added, “there’s a possibility that I’ll be running for that office, too, provided our current mayor decides not to run for reelection.”

“Would you really want to do that?” she had to ask, again surprised. He’d seemed content with his business career.

“My grandfather would have wanted it,” he told her.

But that wasn’t the question she’d asked, Jenna noted.

She also noticed the lack of any mention of his father. And maybe that wasn’t quite so surprising. She’d heard about the events that had taken place during the time she’d been away. As far as her friend Peggy knew, the distinguished-looking man Jenna had little trouble recalling hadn’t set foot in Harmony since he’d abruptly walked out on his wife in favor of, as rumor had it, a far different lifestyle in California. As to the woman he’d left behind, she had immediately filed for divorce and had refused to discuss the subject in public right up to her death.

It wasn’t long before Ross paid the check and took a last sip of his coffee. “Ready to go?”

Jenna nodded and gave herself a mental pat on the back. She’d relaxed and had even managed to enjoy herself.

As he had before, Ross steered them both through the cheerful maze of small, candle-lit tables with a light grasp on her elbow. And as before, Jenna felt the barest grip of his long fingers right down to her toes. So much for relaxation, she reflected as sheer awareness had her shoulders tensing once more.

Sudden thoughts of how the evening might end surfaced as they left the restaurant and walked across the parking lot to her escort’s late-model blue sedan. If this were an ordinary first date, Jenna knew that something she hadn’t considered until now could well be taken as a fitting way to wind things up.

A kiss—a brief kiss—was almost customary.

Then again, even if this were an ordinary date, could the prospect of locking lips, even briefly, with Ross Hayward ever be judged an everyday average event? Not hardly, she acknowledged to herself. Not by you.

But then, he might not even be considering a kiss.

HE WAS GOING FOR IT. Or he was if he got the chance. If she didn’t slip away from him and head inside the minute they arrived at their destination, Ross thought as they started down a short walkway where a child’s tricycle was parked on one side of the path.

“Nice night,” he said, keeping his voice low as he glanced up at a black sky sprinkled with stars.

“Yes,” was her soft reply.

“Cool but pleasant.”

“Yes,” she said one more time as they reached a plain oak door lit by a small overhead lamp. She looked up at him and held out her right hand. “Well, thank you again for din—”

“I’d like to kiss you.” The blunt words were out before he even considered the tone of them. But he wouldn’t call them back if he could have. If he hadn’t said something, he’d probably be looking at that door closing behind her in a matter of moments.

When she just stared at him, brown eyes gleaming in the darkness, he cleared his throat. “Given the situation, I think we should find out what it would be like.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, it seems logical.” Right, and physical attraction has nothing to do with it, a more candid part of him mocked. He ignored it. “That way, we’ll have a better basis to, ah, make our decision.”

She studied him for a silent second. “So you haven’t reconsidered? You’re still thinking about marriage?”

“I am,” he assured her. “And I’m still of the opinion that, if we decide to go through with it, it would have benefits for both of us. But right now, I’d just like to kiss you. May I?”

She released a short breath. “Okay.”

The word was scarcely out when he lifted one hand to cup her chin. Then he lowered his mouth to hers, taking in her subtle floral scent and reminding himself that this was only a kiss. It wouldn’t—couldn’t—lead to greater intimacy. Whether there would even be an opportunity for any real body-to-body, skin-to-skin intimacy between them remained to be seen.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t savor the moment. And he did exactly that as he deepened the kiss just slightly, just enough to discover that he’d like to take it deeper still, much deeper. Instead he made himself settle for a gentle exploration of a mouth far softer than his own. As he lingered, his blood heated despite the cool breeze, and in a matter of seconds he had to work at keeping an invisible fist tight on his control, denying feet ready to take a last step to get even closer and hands that wanted to wander. All of him, in fact, wanted many things, none of which he could have.

Which he would never have, not with Jenna, unless he became her lover. No, unless he became her husband.

He needed, he reminded himself, a wife.

At last he forced himself to lift his head and to drop the hand still cupped around a silky-smooth chin. Inhaling a rough surge of air, he took a brief step back to let his senses clear. It was hard to believe that a kiss, even an undeniably potent one, had been enough to have him making up his mind about something that would change the course of his life. But it had.

“I know you’re probably not ready to hear this,” he said with a huskiness he couldn’t hide, “but I’m prepared to suggest that we take this…all the way.”

Again Jenna stared up at him, her own breathing far from even. “All the way?” she repeated carefully.

“To the altar.”

There, it was out. And he found he had no regrets. He’d made his choice, although the woman still pinned under his gaze needed some time to make hers. That was plain enough by the way her eyes had gone wide with what might have been shock.

“You don’t have to say anything now,” he told her. “I’ll call you in a day or two so we can make plans for another date and talk about it more.”

Jenna merely nodded once in reply. As she let herself into the house, her escort turned and left with a final wave. Moments later she was inside, leaning against the door she’d closed behind her.

She could still feel the imprint of his mouth on hers. Still taste the pure, tangy maleness of his questing tongue. Still smell the light, woodsy scent of his cologne. Still…Heavens, she was still tingling all over.

Peggy poked her head out of the doorway to the family room. “Good grief, what happened to you?”

“What?” Jenna blinked.

“That was my question, friend.” Peggy walked down the narrow hall. “What in the world happened? You look like you’ve been knocked for a loop.”

Jenna took a steadying breath. “I’m…fine.”

“Sure, and I’m a rock star.” Peggy crossed her arms over the front of her T-shirt. “Is Ross Hayward responsible for that stunned expression on your face?”

“I suppose so,” Jenna had to concede.

“What did the man do?”

“He, uh, kissed me.” Right before he floored me by proposing on our first date.

But she was keeping that last fact to herself for now, Jenna decided. He really had asked her to marry him, hadn’t he? Yes, although he hadn’t actually done it in the most traditional of manners, his meaning had been clear.

“And that’s the effect his chiseled lips have on the female half of the population?” Peggy’s brows climbed. “I’m impressed.” She paused to take another survey of her friend. “If he’s looking anywhere near as staggered as you are, wedding bells could be in your immediate future.”

Jenna pushed away from the door and was grateful to find that her knees were no longer in danger of folding. “Only if I agree to go along with it,” she managed to counter.

Peggy shook her head over that statement. “I think you’re a goner, Jen. If he can have you looking like that with no more than a kiss, how can you turn him down?”

Choosing to duck a question she knew she’d have to face far sooner than she expected, Jenna only shrugged in reply. “I’m heading off to bed,” she said as the need to be alone grew.

“All right, see you in the morning.” Peggy stepped aside. “After that stunning experience, you’ll probably have some terrific dreams,” she added with a sly smile.

But that prediction proved to be wrong, and later that night Jenna was wishing she actually could dream—about anything—as she stared up at the ceiling in the small guest bedroom. At least it would mean she had finally fallen asleep. It seemed that as hard as she tried to shut it down, her mind remained on full alert and filled with questions.

What she had to do to win any prospect of peace was to try to come to some conclusions, she decided at last.

So, did she really want a husband? she asked herself. She had to admit that she’d always expected when she was growing up to have one at some point. Her parents’ happy marriage had been a wonderful example.

But did she want that husband to be Ross Hayward, former Golden Boy and possible future mayor?

Well, as the man himself had pointed out days earlier, their marriage would provide her with financial security. Which wasn’t a matter she could take lightly, Jenna knew, after growing up in a household where money was usually scarce.

And, as he also hadn’t hesitated to mention, it would give her children. Another thing she couldn’t take lightly, because she’d spoken no more than the truth when she’d told him that she wanted children.

The problem was that she had learned something tonight. Something that had been made plain to her even before Ross, who was obviously a man of action, had rendered her speechless once again by staring down at her with frank directness and suggesting that they take it all the way…to the altar.

Up until hours ago she had privately skirted the issue of an intimate relationship with Ross and how it might affect her. Now she knew that what he could make her feel as a woman was far more powerful than any teenage crush. Even if they became husband and wife, it wouldn’t be easy for her to allow it to become a real marriage in every sense, not when it could lead to her coming to care too much for him. Because if that happened and he wasn’t able to return her feelings as time passed, her heart would be on the line—as it already had been in another relationship, with far from happy results.

So what did she do now?

You take a chance, an inner voice told her, because you can’t turn him down, not when there’s at least hope that it could someday become a genuinely caring marriage on both sides.

Jenna sighed the softest of sighs, somehow, deep at the core of her, recognizing that silent statement as the simple truth. She could toss and turn for still more hours on end, even continue to rack her brain for days, but it all came down to one undeniable fact.

Both the starry-eyed girl she’d once been who had viewed an all-too-attractive Hayward male from a distance, and the levelheaded woman she’d become who had just experienced the impact of his closeness, simply couldn’t say no. Not to him.

So the next move was hers, she knew, and there was no point in waiting for the man in her thoughts to call. Instead she would place a call herself. And then she would say words that would change her life forever.

As impossible as it would have seemed only a short time ago, Jenna Lorenzo was going to marry Ross Hayward.

Chapter Three

“So you’re really going through with this?” Adam Lassiter asked as he faced Ross across the gleaming surface of a large, dark walnut desk.

“I am, trust me.” Ross reclined in his tan leather swivel chair. As the rest of his corner-office furnishings, it was practical, comfortable and modern in design—all of which his current guest ignored in favor of frankly studying him.

The engagement announcement had been printed in the local paper that morning, and his phone had predictably rung off the hook until he’d given in to an urge for a little peace and quiet and asked his assistant to hold his calls for a while. Then his tall, dark and nattily dressed cousin had arrived on the scene.

Days earlier Ross had called to notify some closer family members before the news became public, which had led to Adam’s unexpected appearance. In fact, the man who made an excellent living as a hot-shot business consultant in the Phoenix area had driven a considerable distance to come to Harmony.

Adam braced elbows covered by the well-tailored jacket of his steel-gray suit on the arms of a beige tweed visitor’s chair. “I told the Lassiters when you asked me to be your best man that if you said you were going to do it, it was a good bet you would. But they refused to believe it until I rescheduled several appointments so I could come here and look you in the eye.”

“Uh-huh.” Ross hid a smile. “And how is my aunt Doris?”

Adam’s grimace was swift and wry. “Okay, so maybe my mother was the chief skeptic. The truth is that if she wasn’t up to her elegant neck in getting things ready for a major charity auction back in Scottsdale, she’d probably be here instead of me.”

“I assume,” Ross said, “that I’ll see her at the wedding.”

His grimace turning to a grin, Adam replied, “I don’t think wild horses could keep her away, especially when the bride is somewhat of a mystery woman.” He paused for a beat. “When do the invitations go out?”

“Soon. As I told everyone, the wedding is the last Saturday of this month.”

Adam frowned. “It’s none of my business, I’ll admit, but I have to wonder why the rush.”

“Why not? You know I don’t hesitate over most things once I’ve made up my mind,” Ross said in the mildest of tones.

And that was all he’d say on the subject. The bargain he’d made with his future wife was, as far as he was concerned, private. Only a few people knew that his intended bride had first applied for a housekeeper’s position, and he saw little reason to spread the word. No, he was keeping mum on that score, even though he and this particular cousin were near the same age and had been especially close until Doris Hayward Lassiter had gone along with her husband’s plan to achieve bigger and better things in the corporate world—and its various society connections—by moving their family to a larger city.

“Hmm.” Adam lifted a hand and ran it through his expertly cut hair. “I suppose even the best man doesn’t get to meet the mystery lady until the big day.”

“It won’t be long,” Ross assured him, keeping his tone mild.

Silence reigned for a moment. “How are Caroline and Katie taking the news?” Adam ventured at last with a probing look.

Ross suspected the question held more genuine concern than his normally unruffled relative usually displayed. Maybe because Adam had a young child of his own, a son he saw mainly during the summers since the boy lived back east with Adam’s ex-wife.

“It was a surprise,” Ross acknowledged, “but they seem to be dealing with it as well as can be expected.”

Maybe he would have liked at least a bit more enthusiasm on their part, he reflected, but he could readily understand why they’d both been unusually quiet since he’d sat them down and told them as gently yet straightforwardly as possible about his plans after Jenna had called. He’d been more than a little surprised himself, he couldn’t deny, when she’d agreed to marry him without much debate. But surprises aside, things would settle down and his daughters would be grateful to have her in their lives. It was just a matter of time.

As for himself, he was damned grateful to have her in his life, and for more reasons than one after the potent first kiss they’d shared. So far, it was the only real kiss circumstances had allowed, but he had expectations of getting more, much more. Not that he hadn’t meant it when he’d said he wouldn’t press her. Still, he hoped he wouldn’t have to wait too long to get everything he wanted…because he wanted it all.

“You look just a tad on the eager side, cuz.” Adam’s soft laugh came from low in his throat. “This woman you’re keeping under wraps must be something.”

Ross lifted a brow. “I suppose you could say that.”

“Aha. No further explanation required. I read you.”

“You always were quick on the uptake, cuz,” Ross countered, repeating the nickname they’d once used on a regular basis to refer to each other.

Adam rose to his feet. “Well, I’ll report back to the family and tell them that things are still on track. Is it going to be a big wedding?”

Ross got up and came around his desk. “It’s already bigger than we initially planned on,” he said as he walked his cousin to the door, “but it won’t be too big.”

IT WAS GETTING BIGGER every day, Jenna reflected with a rueful twist of her lips as she addressed a stack of envelopes that would hold thick, ecru-colored cards edged with a scalloped border. With desktop publishing, it was hardly astounding that professional-looking invitations could be produced so quickly, but who would have thought that one of the most popular—if by no means the grandest—spots in town to get married would be available for a Saturday event on such short notice? Yet that had indeed been the case, as her friend Peggy had wasted no time in finding out, and after that discovery the guest list had rapidly multiplied.

Like rabbits, Jenna thought.

Her family was coming, of course. They’d plainly been startled—or maybe downright amazed—at the news when she’d placed a call to Nevada, but they would be here. At least her parents and youngest sister would make it. Both of her other sisters simply couldn’t. One was attending chef’s school in Europe after winning a scholarship, and the other was due to have her first child only days after the wedding.

The bride’s family was merely the start, however. Even the groom’s was just the tip of the iceberg.

Besides his daughters, Ross had no immediate family still living—except for his father, whom he had firmly declined to invite. But Harmony was home to several more distantly related Haywards, plus many others who considered themselves longtime friends of the family. And, as it turned out, a whole bunch of them wanted to come.

They all wanted to attend a wedding that wasn’t quite the average version of the traditional celebration. Except none of the people primed to celebrate knew that.

“Why couldn’t we have just been married at the courthouse as we’d first thought and be done with it?” Jenna mumbled to herself as the phone on the kitchen counter rang. With Peggy and Jack working and their son in school, it was up to their houseguest to answer, so she rose from the square oak table set in one corner of the room and lifted the receiver. “O’Brien residence.”

“How’s it going?” a deep voice asked.

As usual, her pulse picked up a beat in response. Jenna wondered how much time would pass before it remained comfortably steady in reaction to what was an increasingly familiar, if undeniably pure male, sound. After all, she and Ross had not only talked on the phone several times in recent days, they’d also seen each other most evenings, mainly in the company of his daughters.

“I’m getting writer’s cramp,” she complained half-heartedly as she leaned against the counter. “Are you sure we can’t conveniently forget these invitations and sneak off to the courthouse instead?”

His chuckle was low and amused. “I’ll admit things seem to have snowballed, but we can handle it.”

Well, he could handle it, Jenna knew, at least when it came to the extra expense. Ross had already assured her that he could afford it. He had originally been determined to pay for everything, and he’d mostly had his way. She’d only insisted on buying her own wedding outfit, and he’d given in on that point. Their first compromise, she thought.

Wondering how many more they’d be called upon to make in the future, she said, “Okay, so we can’t sneak off. I’ll just keep writing.”

“Don’t forget that we’re taking Caroline and Katie out for pizza tonight.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Jenna replied, and meant it. Maybe this time, she thought, she’d even be successful at getting Ross’s daughters to do more than manage a short response to a direct question while aiming wary glances her way. Before much longer she would be caring for them on a day-to-day basis. She had to hope they would have become better acquainted by then. Katie, with a chattiness that had seemed to come naturally on the day they’d first met, probably wouldn’t hold back for long before allowing a friendlier relationship to develop. Not too long, at any rate. But Caroline…

A fleeting frown crossed Jenna’s brow. She wished she felt more confident that problems didn’t lie ahead there. Not that Caroline had ever said anything in the least troubling. No, Ross’s eldest child had impeccable manners. Nonetheless, her calm gaze had displayed an unmistakable coolness on the few occasions when her eyes had actually met those of the woman about to become her stepmother. But that didn’t mean Jenna planned to stop watching for a hint of something warmer to form.

“I’ll concentrate on pumping up my appetite so I can tackle my share of the pizza,” she added, determined to remain optimistic when it came to the children.

“Okay, we’ll pick you up at six.” Ross paused for a moment. “Any progress on the wedding outfit?”

“I’m going shopping tomorrow.” Again, she might have added. At the moment she was torn between a knee-length, cream-colored dress she could wear on other occasions and a floor-length model made of rosy silk that wouldn’t be as practical in the long run. She’d already tried on both at one of Harmony’s downtown boutiques. Neither was expensive enough to give her much pause, but she hadn’t been able to make a final choice.

“Don’t worry,” she told him, “I’ll show up wearing something appropriate. If I didn’t, my father, who can be a stickler for the proprieties when he wants to, would refuse to walk me down the aisle.”

“Then I take it you’ll be decked out in more than a paper bag.”

That had Jenna laughing out loud. Thankfully, while he could still rattle her with a casual touch, and far too easily as far as her nerves were concerned, he also had a sense of humor she had no trouble enjoying. “My father will insist on it,” she assured him with mock gravity.

It won her another low chuckle. “He sounds like a sensible man. I’m looking forward to meeting your family.”

She could have responded in kind—but didn’t. The truth was, she could have done without meeting a whole group of Ross’s relatives at the same time, especially when many of them had to be wondering about the hasty marriage.

“I’m sure the Lorenzos can’t wait to meet you,” she said instead.

If he noticed the lack of any mention of his own family, Ross made no comment, and the conversation ended seconds later.

Before Jenna could resume her seat at the table, however, the front doorbell rang. She smoothed a hand down the front of the oversize teal sweatshirt she wore with matching cotton pants and went to answer, walking with characteristic purpose. She didn’t amble often, certainly not when there was work to be done, and she still had those invitations to finish.

Opening the door, she found someone standing there who looked much the same at eighty as she had back when Jenna had been a member of her first-grade class. Hester Goodbody’s silver hair might be even more wispy now, but nothing had dimmed the good-natured intelligence gleaming in a pair of memorable blue eyes framed by gold-rimmed glasses.

“Hello, Jenna,” the older woman said with a soft smile.

Jenna had to smile herself as she took a step back. “It’s great to see you, Miss Hester. Please come in.”

As she shut the door behind them, Jenna noticed for the first time that her visitor had a long cloth garment bag draped over one slender arm clad in a skillfully crocheted sweater.

“I won’t be staying long,” Miss Hester said. “I know you must have many things still to do for the wedding.”

Jenna led the way into a small living room that didn’t seem to get much use in the O’Brien household. “Please sit down.”

Accepting the invitation, Hester Goodbody sat on the beige brocade sofa and placed the garment bag beside her. “You’ve grown into a fine-looking young woman,” she said as Jenna sank into a nearby chair.

Fine-looking—not beautiful. Jenna didn’t miss the distinction. Trust Miss Hester to come down on the side of simple truth.

“I hope I look half as wonderful as you do years from now,” she replied with total honesty.

The veteran teacher studied her for a second. “You will. You have excellent bone structure, and nothing withstands the test of time as well as good bones.” She paused. “I assume that good behavior has also won out with you.”

Jenna rolled her eyes, well up to speed on the reason for that comment. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve learned to be a lady, although I imagine you doubted you’d ever see the day.”

“You certainly could be a scamp, but a likeable one with so much zest for life.” The small features of the older woman’s face settled into more serious lines as she continued. “Which is why I’m delighted that you’re marrying Ross. I’ll think you’ll be good for him.”

Good for him? Although far from certain on that point, Jenna was positive of one thing. “I intend to be the best wife I can,” she said with determination.

“I’m glad to hear it.” A thoughtful frown creased Miss Hester’s finely lined brow. “Ross seldom misbehaved in school, you know. It might be that he felt he had the Hayward name to uphold, and if that was the case, I suspect it was more of a burden than most people realized.”

“I suppose you could be right,” Jenna conceded after a moment’s consideration. Not many would easily note a downside to being a member of a well-respected family, but the sharp-eyed teacher who probably saw more than most just might have a point.

“Anyway,” Miss Hester said, “I, for one, am pleased with the coming marriage, although from what I understand you’re having a little trouble deciding what to wear for the occasion.”

Jenna didn’t ask how that understanding had come about. News traveled fast in small cities. She remembered that well from her earlier days in Harmony. Given Hester Goodbody’s long-standing residency, this woman probably had more friends—and thereby sources of information—than anyone in town.

“I’ve narrowed it down to two choices,” Jenna told her. “I plan to take another look tomorrow and make up my mind.”

Miss Hester sat forward. “I have a third alternative.” She patted the garment bag with one thin hand. “I’m hoping you’ll give it some consideration.”

And that was how Jenna found herself viewing a wedding gown made of delicate ivory lace moments later. Long-sleeved and high-necked, it was snugly fitted through the bodice, with a narrow skirt that fell straight from the waist. A floor-length satin slip in the same ivory shade peaked through the lacy fabric and provided a subtle hint of sheen.

“It was my sister’s,” Miss Hester explained. “She was taller than I am—about your height, in fact. And it’s close to the same size as those dresses you tried on.”

Jenna arched a brow, unable to resist the urge to tease. “Which you just happened to hear about?”

“No, which I made it my business to hear about,” Miss Hester cheerfully confessed. “My sister wore this dress when she married Ross’s grandfather, but both her daughter and her son’s bride, Ross’s mother, chose not to wear it for their own weddings. So she added it to some other belongings she left me when she passed away.”

And what about another bride?

Jenna’s silent question was answered in the next breath. “Ross’s late wife also preferred to go with a newer style,” Miss Hester said, “which may have been a prudent decision on her part. This gown would have had to be altered extensively, given that Cynthia was taller than average and very slim. And I must say that she was a vision in pure white during the summer ceremony held on the outdoor terrace of the Founders Club. With your creamier skin tones, however, I believe ivory would better suit you,” she told Jenna, and demonstrated the truth of that by holding a lacy sleeve up to her former pupil’s hand.

“Yes, the color probably would be better for me.” Jenna couldn’t deny what seemed so evident as the delicate fabric brushed across her fingers. But how could she explain that the chance to wear what could be considered a Hayward family heirloom was something she’d never expected to be offered? And maybe never would have been offered, she thought, if Miss Hester knew the circumstances behind the upcoming marriage.

“I wasn’t,” Jenna said as diplomatically as possible, “planning on wearing a traditional wedding gown.”

“Nevertheless, it is lovely, isn’t it?” the other woman wasted no time in asking.

“Yes.” Jenna could hardly contend otherwise. The gown was indeed lovely, and somehow the fact that it was from another era only added to its gracious beauty.

Miss Hester straightened to her full height, which wasn’t very high. “I would consider it both a favor and an honor if you would wear it.”

Looking into sea-shaded eyes that plainly reflected the truth of that solemn statement, Jenna felt herself wavering. She did love the gown. And so would her mother, who hadn’t been able to afford more than a simple dress when she’d been married. Plus there was the fact that it probably wouldn’t have to be altered. She could make sure no damage was done and give it back as she’d received it.

“All right,” she said at last. “I’ll borrow it—just for that day.”

“No, you’ll pass it along as I did,” her companion countered in a no-nonsense tone, suddenly sounding exactly like the teacher Jenna had once known. “And I’ll get my reward from the sight of a young man’s face as he watches you walk down the aisle. All I ask,” she added, “is that you keep it a secret until then.”

Jenna knew when she was licked. “All right, Miss Hester, whatever you say.”

A sudden sparkle lit in Hester Goodbody’s gaze, making her look far younger than her years. “Spoken,” she declared with quiet satisfaction, “like a star member of my first-grade class.”

THE WEDDING COTTAGE had been the site of countless Harmony nuptials over the years. Nestled in the center of a large corner lot on a peaceful street, the two-story frame house painted a mossy green was snugly surrounded by a well-tended garden. There, a wealth of fall flowers dominated the picture, and tall, leafy trees poised on the brink of their annual autumn transformation chimed in to produce a bright scene despite the layer of thin clouds hiding the late-afternoon sun.

Accompanied by his best man, Ross took in the sights around him as he made his way from an adjacent parking lot down a winding sidewalk leading to a side door reserved for the lesser members of the wedding party, which at the moment included the groom. He knew full well that until the ceremony started, the bride was the one who counted—and with that thought in mind, he had to wonder how Jenna was making out. He hadn’t spoken to her since the evening before when he and his daughters had met her family over a quiet dinner hosted by the Lorenzos. Adam, who’d arrived in town a day earlier than the rest of the Lassiters, had joined them.

“Nervous, cuz?” Adam asked as they settled themselves in a small side room. Both men wore dark suits, white shirts, subtly striped ties, and had a tiny red rosebud stuck in the buttonhole of their jackets.

“I was more on edge last night,” Ross admitted, “but I think I passed the test.”

“With flying colors, in my opinion,” Adam remarked. “Your about-to-be in-laws are a nice bunch, and they were obviously thrilled with the girls.”

But were his girls thrilled with them? Ross couldn’t honestly say one way or the other. At least Katie had been more talkative than in recent weeks, and he supposed he’d take that as a good sign.

“The maid of honor is quite a looker, too,” Adam continued. “Too bad she’s too young for me.”

“Glad you recognize that,” Ross said. “Joe Lorenzo might not look kindly on any serious flirting with his youngest child, and as big as he is, a smart man probably wouldn’t test it.”

“Hmm. At least I got to meet the mystery woman. And I have to say you’ve got good taste. There’s definitely something about her that stirs the juices. I mean,” Adam added hastily at Ross’s lifted brow, “my juices might get stirred if she wasn’t well on her way to being your wife.”

Deciding to be satisfied with that concession, Ross looked in a mirror placed on a narrow wall sporting printed wallpaper in masculine shades of brown. He straightened a tie that didn’t need straightening and wondered how many grooms had stood where he was standing. The last time he himself had been a groom cooling his heels in another room, his father had been his best man. Now, it was hard to even imagine that.

Just then, Judge Reynolds, a longtime friend of the Hayward clan, poked his graying head into the room. “Time to take your places, gentlemen,” he said in his usual courteous fashion. “The bride and her party have arrived.”

Adam grinned, displaying a handsome set of teeth. “Showtime, cuz.”

It wasn’t long before both men stood beside the judge at one end of a large room decorated in a garden theme as though it were an extension of its outdoor surroundings. Directly in front of them, a straight walkway displaying a length of floral-print carpeting led to an arched doorway, with long rows of wicker chairs painted a leafy green lining both sides of the aisle.

The room itself was filled with familiar faces, and the most familiar of all to Ross belonged to his daughters, who sat next to Adam’s parents in the first row. He smiled at them, and Katie, dressed in cheery yellow, managed a tiny one in return. Caroline, who was partial to quieter shades of blue and wore it today, nodded her head, but didn’t smile. In contrast, Hester Goodbody, looking well pleased with the day’s events, met his fleeting glance with a wide curve of her thin lips from her seat behind the children.

Music began to swell from a small organ near the rear of the room, and then a shapely brunette barely over twenty appeared in the doorway wearing a floor-length dress of dusky-rose silk. A matching hair ribbon held back Sophie Lorenzo’s cap of short curls. An appealing grin broke through as she approached the men who awaited her, prompting Adam to lean over to his cousin and mutter, “Are you sure she’s too young for me?”

Before Ross could reply, the wedding march started, right along with a sea of whispers as the guests got to their feet. Even though he couldn’t make out the words, Ross drew his own conclusions. Those who hadn’t yet met Jenna were most likely speculating about what she looked like, and those who had were probably wondering how she’d be dressed for the occasion.

He had to admit to being curious himself on that last point. She’d only told him that she’d settled on something and hadn’t gone into details.

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