“Breakfast is almost ready,”

Kate called.

Dylan came in, fastening his shirt. “You don’t have to cook for me. I don’t expect it.”

“I don’t mind.”

“At least you should wear something a little less…that is, something more suitable for cooking.”

Perplexed, Kate looked down at her nightshirt.

“What’s wrong with this?”

“For one thing, there’s nothing to protect your skin,” Dylan growled. “Your legs are completely bare.”

“Not really. See?” She plucked at the nightshirt, pulling it higher. The shirt went halfway down her thighs.

“For God’s sake, don’t do that!”

Dear Reader,

Whether our heroes are flirting with their best friends or taking care of adorable tots, their stories of falling for the right woman are sure to melt your heart. Don’t miss one magical moment of this month’s collection from Silhouette Romance.

Carolyn Zane begins THE BRUBAKER BRIDES miniseries by introducing us to the first of three Texas-bred sisters, in Virginia’s Getting Hitched (SR #1730). Dr. Virginia Brubaker knows the secret to a long-lasting relationship: compatibility. But one sexy, irreverent ranch hand has a different theory all together…that he hopes to test on the prim but not-so-proper doctor!

In Just Between Friends (SR #1731), the latest emotion-packed tale from Julianna Morris, a handsome contractor rescues his well-to-do best friend by agreeing to marry her—for a year. But he doesn’t know about her little white lie—for them, she’s always wanted more than friendship.…

Prince Perfect always answers the call of duty…to his sons and to his kingdom. But his beautiful nanny tempts him to let go of his inhibitions and give in to the call of the heart. Find out if this bachelor dad will make the perfect husband, in Falling for Prince Federico (SR #1732) by Nicole Burnham.

The newest title from Holly Jacobs, Be My Baby (SR #1733), promises a rollicking good time! When a carefree single guy finds a baby on his doorstep, he’s sure things couldn’t get worse—until he’s stranded in a snowstorm with his annoyingly attractive receptionist. With sparks flying, they’re guaranteed to stay warm!

Sincerely,

Mavis C. Allen

Associate Senior Editor

Just Between Friends
Julianna Morris

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my sister.

Thanks for pitching in…even when it wasn’t fun.

Books by Julianna Morris

Silhouette Romance

Baby Talk #1097

Family of Three #1178

Daddy Woke Up Married #1252

Dr. Dad #1278

The Marriage Stampede #1375

* Callie, Get Your Groom #1436

* Hannah Gets a Husband #1448

* Jodie’s Mail-Order Man #1460

Meeting Megan Again #1502

Tick Tock Goes the Baby Clock #1531

Last Chance for Baby! #1565

A Date with a Billionaire #1590

The Right Twin for Him #1676

The Bachelor Boss #1703

Just Between Friends #1731

JULIANNA MORRIS

has an offbeat sense of humor, which frequently gets her into trouble. She is often accused of being curious about everything. Her interests range from oceanography and photography to traveling, antiquing, walking on the beach and reading science fiction.

Julianna loves cats of all shapes and sizes, and recently she was adopted by a feline companion named Merlin. Like his namesake, Merlin is an alchemist—she says he can transform the house into a disaster area in nothing flat. And since he shares the premises with a writer, it’s interesting to note that he’s particularly fond of knocking books on the floor.

Julianna happily reports meeting her Mr. Right. Together they are working on a new dream of building a shoreline home in the Great Lakes area.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

Chapter One

“I’m sorry, you can’t go in.”

Dylan O’Rourke heard his secretary’s protest a split second before the door opened. He spun his chair around, prepared to deal with an insistent client, and saw Kate Douglas instead.

“Kate.”

She smiled. “Hey, Dylan.”

“What do you want?”

With Kate it was wise to cut to the chase. When they were kids he’d had an annoying habit of being unable to say “no” to the lady—like the time she’d gotten him to help her run away from home. He still remembered his father’s blistering lecture over that particular stunt. After that Dylan had nicknamed her “Katydid,” to remind himself that he didn’t have to do everything that Kate did.

“Right now I want to sit down.”

Kate sank onto the couch and crossed her legs. Her long gold hair matched the earrings and the gold chain around her neck, and she wore a white silk dress, white silk hose and a pair of white leather sandals…an outfit that probably cost more than his first car.

White, in a construction office.

Dylan shook his head, yet he couldn’t help grinning at the same time. Common dirt wouldn’t dare stick to someone with Katrina Douglas’s kind of old money—gold dust, maybe, but never just plain dirt.

“It’s good to see you,” Kate said softly.

“Same here.” And he meant it. Kate might be a spoiled rich kid, but she was bright and full of fun…and she could wheedle a glass of water from a man lost in the desert.

Of course, he was older now, and not nearly so susceptible. He usually got stuck with buying tickets to some god-awful charity event when she stopped by to see him, but he’d refused other stuff. Like the time she’d wanted to auction him as a bachelor at one of her fund-raisers. Dylan shuddered at the memory. He was willing to escort her now and then to a party, but get auctioned?

Not a chance.

“What is it, Kate?” he asked, determined to get right to the heart of the matter. “Another fund-raiser? I’ll donate, but I’m not coming.”

“No, it isn’t another fund-raiser. Though it was mean of you not to show up at the last one. You were supposed to be my date.”

“No, I wasn’t. I told you I couldn’t go to that one, you just didn’t listen.”

She didn’t look convinced. “There I was, all alone,” she said. “It was terrible—it’s humiliating to be the only woman without an escort.”

Dylan almost fell into the trap before he caught the sparkle in her green eyes. “Brat,” he muttered.

“So, why couldn’t you come?”

“I was busy. And I’m tired of dry sandwiches with the crusts cut off.”

“They weren’t dry.”

“They’re always dry. You’ve dragged me to enough of those things for me to know I’ll be poorly fed and miserably uncomfortable. Honest, Katydid, you have the most boring friends. And they have an insatiable curiosity about how you happen to know an immigrant Irish construction worker. I should wear a sign that says My Dad Was One of the Help. Maybe I’d get left in peace.”

“Strictly speaking, your parents were the immigrants. You were born in the United States.”

“You know what I mean.”

“And you own the construction company,” Kate added. “You’re a very successful businessman.”

“Don’t glamorize me. I’m still a construction worker, and your friends wouldn’t know the difference between the working end of a hammer and a staple gun.”

“Maybe they’re curious because you’re Kane O’Rourke’s brother,” she said brightly.

Dylan snorted. His brother had become one of the wealthiest men in the country, but to the Douglases’ small and snobbish social circle, it was new money and not worth their attention. Of course, some of the unattached women he’d met at those fund-raisers had obviously hoped for an introduction to Kane, at least before he’d gotten married.

Thank God Kane had found a genuinely sweet and loving woman. Beth was terrific—down-to-earth and totally unimpressed with her husband’s money.

“Or maybe everyone wonders what such a great-looking guy is doing with me,” Kate suggested.

She did her best to look pathetic, but Dylan wasn’t buying a second of it. If he hadn’t watched her grow up from a skinny little kid, Kate’s golden-haired beauty would probably knock him breathless. Instead he was merely wary.

“Then when you don’t escort me,” she continued sadly, “I’ll bet they think you found someone prettier.”

“Give me a break,” Dylan muttered.

He didn’t usually think about the way Kate had blossomed. He wasn’t even sure when it had happened. One minute she was a bratty kid with a genius for talking him into trouble, the next minute she was dropping male jaws all over Seattle. But she still seemed awfully young—mostly because of the impish mischief lurking in her sea green eyes.

After a moment Kate looked up, but for once her eyes were very serious. “What you said about the ‘help’…does it bother you that your father used to work for my family?”

“Not particularly. Your friends, on the other hand?” Dylan lifted a shoulder.

“We might work on fund-raising projects together, but they’re my mother’s friends,” Kate said slowly. “I don’t fit in that well.”

“You’re young, give it a couple years.”

Frustrated, Kate regarded the tips of her toes, then wiggled them inside her sandals. Dylan was only two years older, yet he treated her like a little kid. Nothing she did seemed to make a difference to the way he saw her. She’d long since given up hoping that he’d look into her eyes and discover she was the woman of his dreams, but the least he could do was realize she’d grown up.

Honestly, it was so irritating.

She was a leftover piece of his childhood, someone he considered too immature, too flighty and too rich and spoiled to be anything but a friend. Men could be so blind when it came to women.

“I won’t fit in with mother’s friends if I live to be a hundred,” she declared, prompting a chuckle from Dylan.

“God, Katydid, you do make me laugh,” he said, settling back in his chair.

Kate sighed. Dylan didn’t laugh enough, not since his father’s death. He was so serious about everything, he needed someone to shake up his life…and she was just the one to do the shaking. And if he’d only realized it before now, she wouldn’t have to go to such ridiculous lengths to get his attention.

The O’Rourkes had been part of her world since before she could remember. She’d adored them from the beginning, and Dylan in particular. Keenan O’Rourke had worked seven days a week—five days for a forestry company, and two days as a handyman for her parents, but he’d always seemed to have time for his kids. Quite a contrast to her father, who’d been born wealthy, didn’t work, and rarely noticed her at all.

Dylan began looking through some papers on his desk, giving every indication that he’d forgotten she was in the room. Kate’s stomach clenched. Was she totally nuts, wanting him to decide she was Miss Right and fall desperately in love with her? Or would she just be getting one more inattentive man in her life even if he did decide he was in love?

“Dylan,” Kate said insistently.

He looked up. “Goodness, where did you come from, Katydid?” He grinned, then winked.

“You…rat,” she growled, but she wasn’t really angry. So Dylan had been playing a joke on her, she should have known he wouldn’t forget she was around. If nothing else, he’d been taught too much courtesy by his parents.

He put the papers back on his desk and crossed his arms over his flat stomach. “All right, kiddo, no more fooling around. What do you want? We’ve already ruled out one of your fund-raisers, but that leaves plenty of territory.”

Kate bit the inside of her lip and tried to look innocent. “Do I need a reason to visit my best friend?”

“Hah,” he scoffed. “I’m only your best friend when you want something. So stop stalling and let me have it.”

“So you can say no, right?”

“Yes.” Dylan scowled. “That is, no, I don’t always refuse. In fact, I say yes way too often when it comes to you. You’re a spoiled brat. Do you know that?”

“Whatever you say.” Kate wrinkled her nose. She might be spoiled by having too much money, but she’d trade every penny to be part of Dylan’s family. They were real and loving and took care of each other, no matter what. And Dylan was her best friend, even if he didn’t realize it.

“Katydid?”

Taking a deep breath, she tossed her head back.

“The name is Kate or Katrina. I stopped being Katydid a long time ago.” Actually, Dylan was the only one who’d ever called her Katydid, and she didn’t really mind except that it meant he still saw her as a child.

“You’re stalling.”

Of course she was stalling. He wasn’t going to like what she had in mind, but if she was careful about how she suggested it, he might agree. “You remember that my grandmother died several months ago?” she asked.

Dylan nodded. In his opinion Jane Elmira Douglas had been the Wicked Witch of the West’s less likable sister, but Katydid was softhearted enough to have loved the old bat, regardless. He’d gone over to see Kate the night of the funeral and even though she’d smiled and pretended it was all right, her eyes had been sad and bruised looking.

“Yes, it’s been about six months,” he said.

“That’s right.”

“And…?” Dylan prodded, as gently as possible.

“Uh, well, it’s my birthday next month.”

“I know.” A small frown gathered on his forehead. He was surprised she’d brought it up; ever since Kate’s parents had forgotten her sweet-sixteenth, she’d been a little touchy about the day.

She stirred restlessly, tugging at her white dress and smoothing the skirt. He waited, knowing that sooner or later she’d tell him what was going on—there was always a plan behind Kate’s verbal detours. As a kid he’d spent a lot of time bemused by the way she flitted around, the bright, elegant butterfly to his ordinary caterpillar. Now he mostly crossed his arms and sat back until she lighted on something.

“My birthday was mentioned in Grandmamma’s will. And that’s sort of the problem.”

“I see,” he said, though he didn’t see at all.

“She left me the Douglas Hill House, but only if I get married by my twenty-seventh birthday. I’m twenty-six now, so I don’t have much time.”

Dylan blinked. The Douglas Hill House was a mansion that overlooked the city of Seattle like a brooding raven and had to be the ugliest place ever built. He’d been inside it once when Kate had dragged him to an interminable party to raise money for disabled children. The only bright spot had been watching her play with the kids. She was great with youngsters; someday she ought to have a big family of her own.

“You’re going to be twenty-seven?” he asked.

Kate rolled her eyes. Dylan was an intelligent man, surely he had an inkling of what she wanted.

“Yes, I’m going to be twenty-seven. And Grandmamma was worried that I’d never marry, so that’s why she put the provision in the will. I get the final deed after a year of marriage.” Kate crossed her fingers because the next part was sort of a lie. “She knew I’d do anything to keep the house in the family.”

“Yeah, of course. You love the old place.”

She loved it, all right.

She’d love to see it dynamited.

Her grandmother had never had a clue about what her granddaughter wanted. The hardest part about losing Nanna Jane was knowing she’d been a disappointing afterthought to her own grandmother—never quite refined or proper enough to fulfill the Douglas legacy.

You’re just like your great-grandfather. You have no respect for our position, Nanna Jane would say, her lips pursed with disapproval.

Kate couldn’t remember the first time she’d heard the accusation, and it had taken years of digging and putting facts together before she learned what her grandmother meant. After his wife had died and his children were grown, Rycroft Douglas had gone to Alaska to dig for gold. The fact that her great-grandfather had added considerably to the family fortune hadn’t mitigated the outrageous scandal of a Douglas becoming a flamboyant adventurer.

Jiminy, Kate envied him.

She’d found Rycroft’s letters to his son, written from the Alaskan gold fields. The old man had been having the time of his life—much to the disapproval of his straitlaced daughter-in-law, who couldn’t quite embrace the idea that Seattle was basically a frontier town turned shipping capital. Kate didn’t know. Maybe certain owners of Seattle’s old money needed to be more uptight than their counterparts in places like Boston because their money wasn’t quite as old as they’d like it to be. Or maybe old money was the same everywhere.

Well, at least Nanna Jane’s will was giving her a chance to get what she wanted—though it was hardly what her grandmother must have planned.

“You understand my problem?” Kate said, a questioning note to her voice.

Dylan nodded. “More or less. You have a little over a month to get married.”

“But I don’t have anyone I want to marry.”

All at once suspicion grew in his face. “Now, Kate, you aren’t thinking…dammit, you aren’t thinking what I think you’re thinking.”

“But it’s the perfect solution.”

“For you, maybe. It’s a disaster for me.”

She didn’t have to manufacture tears, the implied insult was more than enough to make her cry. “That’s a terrible thing to say. A lot of men want to marry me.”

“Then marry one of them!”

“But they’d want a real marriage. I just need a husband for a year.” A tear dripped down her cheek.

“Now, Katydid, don’t start.”

A second tear joined the first. “We’re friends, and friends help each other.”

“Not that way. It’s out of the question.”

Out of the question in that tone of voice didn’t sound good, and she swallowed. She’d hoped so much that this would work. But she wasn’t going to give up, not yet.

“I’d just hate to lose Grandmamma’s house. There’s so much family history there, and all that…uh…hard-wood and parquet flooring.” Kate nearly gagged. If the house was completely renovated it might be a lovely home, but presently it was grim and depressing, a reflection of the austere woman who’d lived there for sixty-seven years.

“So bite the bullet and marry someone else.”

“But that would be the same as selling myself, just to get the house.” She tried to appear shocked. “How can you possibly suggest such a thing?” She actually was shocked, though women had been marrying men for money and position and property for much longer than she’d been around.

Dylan clenched his fingers. Truthfully, he wasn’t wild about the notion of Kate marrying one of the stuffed shirts who were always buzzing around her. He supposed it was because he was like a big brother to Katydid, and brothers never approved of their sister’s boyfriends. But there wasn’t any way he was going along with her nutty scheme.

Kate pulled a white handkerchief from her white purse and dabbed her eyes. “You want me to act like a prostitute, trading my body for gain. It wouldn’t be any different.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Dylan said, appalled.

“Yes, it is.” She lifted her chin. “Fine, if that’s what you want, I’ll decide which one of them I’m going to marry. You’ll get an invitation to the wedding.”

With a graceful twist of her body she rose from the couch and headed for the door.

She looked over her shoulder. “Maybe you can be best man,” she said as a parting shot. “I’m sure it’s an honor you deserve.”

The door closed behind her and Dylan groaned and thumped his head against his high-backed chair. She was working on his guilt and trying to make him feel responsible for a situation he had no part in creating.

Still, in a way Katydid was right. It would be selling herself to get the house. She plainly wasn’t in love with any of those suitors she’d talked about, and they would expect far more from the marriage than she wanted to give.

Suddenly he couldn’t bear the thought of sweet little Katydid submitting to a man’s attentions simply because her grandmother had been a conniving witch. There had to be another way. The Douglases’ small social circle wasn’t populated with a single man worth a red cent in terms of character. And several of those guys weren’t very nice beneath their silk shirts and monogrammed money clips.

Dylan rushed to his feet and hurried through the outer office. He caught up with Kate on the street below just as she was getting into her disreputable car. Why she insisted on driving the beat-up old Volkswagen Beetle was beyond him. Granted, it was a classic, but the least she could do was have the thing properly restored. He supposed it was her way of rebelling.

“Kate, wait.”

She turned and the look on her face made him wince.

“What? More advice?” Her chin rose higher. “Believe me, I have all the advice I need from you.”

“Please, Katydid, we need to talk.”

“I think we’ve said everything. Of course, I won’t be bothering you anymore to buy fund-raising tickets. I don’t suppose that my husband, whoever he turns out to be, would like it anymore than he’d like you showing up to watch something on the VCR with us.”

Damn.

Dylan’s fingers itched with the illogical urge to throttle Kate’s theoretical husband. It would be a pain tying himself to a spoiled princess for a year, but on the other hand, he’d watched after Kate since they were children. Like the time he’d talked her down from the roof of her parents’ six-car garage after she’d convinced herself that she was really a fairy with invisible wings.

“Kate, there isn’t one man you’ve dated who you feel some affection for?”

Something flickered deep in her eyes—an emotion he’d never seen before—but it disappeared and he decided he must have been mistaken.

“There’s no one else.”

He let out a breath. “Maybe you could suggest the same arrangement to one of those guys, and they’d agree.”

“But you’re the only one I trust,” she said simply.

Oh, God.

He supposed it really was that simple. “Look, I’ll come over tonight, and we’ll talk about it some more. Talk, that’s all. I’m not making any promises.”

Kate hesitated, wanting to push, but she knew it would just make Dylan more unwilling, which was the last thing she wanted now that he seemed to be considering her proposal. “All right. I’ll order Chinese.”

“Nope, the last time you got calamari. Damn stuff was so rubbery my jaw ached for a week. I’ll bring pizza.”

She nodded and put her key in the lock. Asking a man to marry her was much harder than getting him to help her run away from home or go to another boring fundraiser. She’d like to believe that Dylan—who said he was allergic to marriage—was really crazy about her and didn’t know it. But Kate had learned not to fool herself. She just prayed that living together for a year would convince him that she was the love of his life.

If necessary, she’d resort to drastic measures. How hard could it be to seduce a man who’s bumping up against you day and night? But then, maybe she didn’t want to know. Dylan had always been depressingly resistant to her in that way.

“I’ll see you later,” she said.

“Yeah, maybe we can discuss why you won’t get a proper car for yourself.”

Kate patted the steering wheel of the VW. She loved her car. It had character. She’d bought it with the advance from the sale of her first children’s book. Hardly anybody knew she worked; it was one of the few things that was hers alone. Dylan might find out if they got married, but then again, maybe not.

It wasn’t like they’d be sharing a bedroom or anything. Darn it.

Chapter Two

“It’s the pizza guy.”

Kate’s pulse jumped at the sound of Dylan’s voice coming from the other side of the front door. She took a last look at herself in the mirror and smoothed a strand of hair at her temple.

She’d taken great pains to dress casually in off-the-rack clothing. There wasn’t any need to remind him about her family’s money. Of course, he was very successful now, and his oldest brother’s current financial status made the Douglas fortune look like pocket change, but that didn’t alter the fact that at one time she’d been rich when he was poor.

“I hope that pizza is still hot,” she said, opening the door. “I don’t tip for cold deliveries.”

Dylan grinned. “You shouldn’t open the door without being sure it isn’t some weirdo on the other side.”

“I knew it was you, so there wasn’t any doubt it was a weirdo.”

“You have a real way about you, Katydid.”

Kate stepped back so he could enter. Dylan always seemed so big to her, maybe because he topped her by at least ten inches and eighty pounds of muscle. Lord, he gave her a weak feeling in the tummy. He wasn’t as perfectly handsome as his brothers, but he had a raw sexuality that was powerful and completely irresistible.

A secret smile tugged at her mouth.

Dylan’s rugged good looks caused a stir wherever he went. It wasn’t any wonder that the women he met at fund-raisers were curious about him, and more than a little envious when she showed up on his arm. Of course, the old guard of her grandmother’s generation could be snotty, but she’d seen them bowled over by his charm, nevertheless.

“I brought some wine,” Dylan said, waving a bag.

“Okay,” Kate said unenthusiastically.

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, I know you prefer milk with pizza.” Instead of a wine bottle, he pulled a carton of milk from the bag.

Just like that, he made her feel ten years old again. Milk was for little girls and kittens, not sophisticated women.

“Maybe I’ll have beer tonight,” she muttered, walking into her kitchen. The converted apartment over the garage was the one place on her grandmother’s estate that she liked. The garage had once been a carriage house with living quarters above, and it was hidden from the main house by a stand of trees. She had a private entrance to the estate, so her friends had been able to visit without being scrutinized by Nanna Jane.

Really, her grandmother should have worked for the CIA. She would have made a great spy.

Dylan set the pizza box on the old farm-kitchen table she’d rescued from a junk heap. Kate automatically opened the cupboard to get some plates, then shook her head. Dylan always said regular people didn’t eat pizza off plates—they just grabbed a napkin and chowed down.

“Have you…mmm…decided…” Her voice trailed, instincts telling her that he wasn’t ready to discuss anything beyond dinner. “That is, do you want beer or wine? I have your favorite beer, and I think I have some red wine, too.”

Dylan restrained his grin. “Milk is fine. You don’t need to have a drink on my account.”

“I’m over twenty-one, I can drink alcohol.”

“Yeah, but you don’t like it.”

She gave him a narrow look that announced he was on extremely thin ice. “This is about you thinking I’m still a child, right?”

“Chugging beer isn’t going to change my opinion one way or the other,” Dylan murmured. Kate was so cute with her feathers ruffled that he enjoyed shaking her up now and then.

She thumped two glasses on the table. “You’re impossible. A total pill.”

“I know.”

Dylan spied a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth and shook his head. She really was a sweet kid.

All afternoon he’d been thinking about her crazy plan to get married. He supposed that it was natural Kate would turn to him for help—he’d been playing protective big brother ever since they’d met. Despite her family’s money, she’d had a lonely childhood, spending more time with the family servants than with her family. When he’d come with his dad to wash the cars and do yard work she’d tagged along, always at his heels, asking questions and making him feel…

He sighed.

Might as well admit it, Kate had made him feel big and important, even though he was just a skinny youngster wearing hand-me-down jeans and T-shirts. In a funny sort of way she still made him feel big and important whenever they were together, teasing and calling him her best friend.

“Such a serious face.” Kate opened the carton of milk and filled their glasses. “If you behave yourself you can have a wine milkshake later.”

“And if I don’t behave, what do I get then?” Dylan’s voice deepened provocatively, startling him.

Where had that come from?

He’d never flirted with Kate. She was a bright, annoying kid who he was fond of, but he’d never considered anything romantic with her. Heck, he’d seen her knobby knees when she was a youngster and listened as she bemoaned her flat chest. Not that she was flat-chested any longer. In fact, she had a very nice set of measurements. So nice it was…he hastily put a brake on his unruly thoughts.

Kate blinked, obviously surprised. Then she tossed her head and gave him a slow smile. “You’ll get something better than a wine milkshake, that’s for sure.”

Dylan didn’t have time to decipher the expression in her eyes before she spun around and grabbed a shaker of crushed red pepper from the counter.

“Do you want fresh-grated Parmesan on your pizza?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Uh…I think they included some. Not fresh-grated, but good enough,” he muttered, still trying to sort out what had just happened. For God’s sake, he’d actually been flirting with a girl he regarded as a kid sister. Romance with Kate had never occurred to him, and if it had, he would have laughed at the idea. She was too rich, too flighty, too everything.

“Okay.”

She set the hot pepper sprinkles next to his glass of milk, which made him grin despite his inner turmoil. Kate didn’t like spicy food, which was why he always ordered their pizza as half vegetarian and half meat-lover’s special. She’d eat a couple pieces of the vegetarian and he’d have the rest.

Yet his smile faded as he gazed at the table. Kate had bought a special shaker and filled it with crushed red pepper after the time the restaurant had forgotten to include any with their order. She might be a royal pain, but she was fiercely loyal to her friends. Nothing was too much trouble when Kate Douglas was on your side.

A stab of guilt hit Dylan. Was it really such a sacrifice to marry her for a year? They got along pretty well, and it wasn’t as if he was dating anyone seriously. In fact, a convenient not-really-a-marriage with Kate would get his mother off his back about finding a nice girl. Now that three of her children were happily wed, Pegeen O’Rourke was even more determined to see the rest of them married off. It was something to think about.

“Earth to Dylan,” Kate intoned, jolting him back to the present. She dropped into a chair and rested her chin on her hand. “I’m hungry, how about you?”

“Right,” he muttered. “Hungry.”

A spicy fragrance rose from the large pizza inside the box, and they ate quietly for several minutes. Silences between them had always been comfortable and natural, but Kate’s earlier proposal had changed all that. He was crazy to even consider marrying a spoiled princess with the staying power of a soap bubble. Everything about her was delicate, from her golden hair and sea-green eyes to the arches in her small feet. She didn’t have a clue about the tough things in life.

Of course, if they did get married it wouldn’t be real. They’d be like roommates, with separate lives and separate beds. Legally, they’d end with a divorce, but as far as his conscience was concerned, it would be an annulment. A marriage that hasn’t been consummated isn’t a marriage in the first place.

“You aren’t having any hot pepper,” Kate said, shifting uncomfortably.

She couldn’t understand the peculiar expression on Dylan’s face or the way he stared at her. It wasn’t desire or affection—more like she had spinach caught in her teeth.

He shook the red pepper on his pizza and continued eating. She glanced around her cozy home and thought about what it would be like to share it with someone. She’d hate losing the carriage house because of Nanna Jane’s will, but it would be worse to lose her best friend. Maybe she should just tell Dylan she’d changed her mind and was giving up the estate.

Yet when Kate opened her mouth, the words stuck in her throat. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life wondering about what might have been. It was hard enough having spent her entire adult life pining after a man who thought she was still a kid. So instead of saying anything, she bit into a second slice of pizza.

She wanted to be like Great-Grandfather Rycroft Douglas, who threw his hat in the wind and dug for gold in the land of the midnight sun. That’s where she wanted to spend her honeymoon, in Alaska, celebrating the rebellious spirit she’d inherited from him.

All at once the corners of Kate’s mouth turned down. If she married Dylan—and it was a big if—there wouldn’t be a real honeymoon. Darn it all. She didn’t know whether to be angry about the conditions in Nanna Jane’s will or grateful for the opportunity.

“What’s wrong, Katydid?” Dylan asked quietly. “Are you thinking about your grandmother’s will?”

Her startled gaze flew to his. “How did you…?”

“I can tell you’re unhappy about something, and that’s the most obvious cause.”

Well, she had been thinking about the will in connection to Dylan and what the future might bring. Her spirits lifted. He’d sensed she was unhappy. It wasn’t a declaration of love, but it was better than nothing.

Kate shrugged and drank the last of her milk. “I’m all right,” she said noncommittally. She knew enough about Dylan to know she couldn’t push.

He reached across the table and drew his thumb across her upper lip. Heat rose in her cheeks both from his touch and the realization that she’d left a thin line of milk on her mouth. Lord, what her grandmother would have said about such unladylike impropriety. Kate didn’t care about the impropriety, but she hated looking ridiculous. Yet Dylan’s dark eyes were curiously warm.

“Dylan?” she whispered.

For a long moment he just stared at her lips. The breath caught in her throat and a tingling sensation crept across her nerves. Was he thinking about kissing her, or just wondering what it would be like? She’d only thought about it a few thousand times, but who was counting?

“I…I’ve been thinking about what you said…suggested this afternoon,” he muttered. “If we do it, we’ll need to sign a prenuptial agreement. It should be clear when we end things that we each keep what we owned before the marriage. Your grandmother’s lawyers can draft the thing—they’ll probably insist on it, anyway.”

The hope cascading through Kate came to a crashing halt.

A prenuptial agreement?

That’s what he’d been thinking about?

“You think I’d try to take part of your business?” she gasped. “How could you even begin to think such a thing? I don’t want a penny of your money. That’s absolutely the most ridiculous, unbeliev—”

“Whoa.” Dylan clamped his hand over her mouth. “Dammit, that isn’t what I meant. Your grandmother’s property alone must be worth more than my construction business, not to mention your trust fund and everything else. I’d just want to make it clear that I’m not interested in your family fortune.”

Annoyed, Kate nipped the callused palm of his hand with her teeth. He yanked his hand away with a low growl.

“So you want to save your pride with a pre-nup,” she snapped. “Announce to the whole wide world that you don’t think our marriage will last. Shall we publish the details in the Seattle Times classifieds, or do you think a simple announcement to our friends and families will be enough?”

Frustrated, Dylan ran his fingers through his hair. “It wouldn’t be a real marriage, so what does it matter what everyone thinks?”

She gave him a baleful look.

If Dylan didn’t already know what mattered, he probably wouldn’t ever know. It wasn’t just wounded pride—though her pride was already plenty wounded—it was something more fundamental. Dylan was her best friend; she trusted him in ways she’d never trusted anyone. She didn’t want a prenuptial agreement because legal agreements were for people who didn’t trust each other.

Unfortunately, she needed a reason that a pragmatist like Dylan O’Rourke would accept.

“It has to look like a real marriage,” she said. “Or the lawyers will make trouble. A pre-nup might seem suspicious.”

Dylan frowned. “Won’t they want to protect you just in case? At the very least your father will insist on me signing something. I don’t think he likes me that much.”

A pang went through Kate. Her father wasn’t the protective type—sometimes she wondered if he remembered her name.

“I doubt it,” she said dryly. “Father and Mother are in Europe for a few months. I doubt they’ll even come back for the wedding.”

“Katy—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kate said hastily, not wanting Dylan to feel sorry for her. “But you should know that Grandmamma’s will says we have to live on the property for a year as husband and wife.” It was the truth, and she was quite certain her grandmother’s snooty lawyers would scrutinize the situation like a gaggle of gossiping old biddies.

“You mean we have to live in that mausoleum?” Dylan groaned.

Kate’s heart jumped because it sounded as if he’d decided to help her. “The will just says we have to live on the property, so I thought we’d stay here in my place.”

“Here?”

“It seems easiest, especially since the big house needs a huge amount of work to be comfortable,” she said, trying to sound practical. Dylan was the kind of man who’d want a practical wife, and she had every intention of being the best wife in the world. “We’ll just be housemates. Of course, everyone has to believe it’s a real marriage,” she added hastily.

He glanced around her kitchen with an unreadable expression. “Your place is a little small,” he murmured.

Well, duh.

The last thing Kate wanted was to move into Nanna Jane’s mansion with its dozens of cold rooms and echoing space. She wanted them to live in a place where Dylan couldn’t avoid her, no matter how hard he tried.

It wasn’t as if she was being terribly deceitful, or anything. If he really thought about it, he’d realize how she’d been in love with him forever. And if he still didn’t feel the same about her after being married for a year, she’d agree to an uncontested divorce.

But Dylan was still looking thoughtful, so she pushed aside the possibility of failure and leaned forward. “What’s wrong with my place? It’s not that small and your company did the work to modernize it, so you know it’s in good condition.”

“Hmm…yes.” He scratched the side of his face. “But this is a great old building and there’s a lot of room for expansion. You’ve talked about enlarging—so this would be a good time to get it done. I really think it’s best.”

Kate shrugged in defeat. “All right. Draw up the plans and send me the bill.” So much for a crowded living space pushing them together. The forced intimacy would have helped—now she’d have to think of something else.

Dylan looked scandalized. “I couldn’t do that.”

“Why not? It’s just like the last time.”

“Like hell. Husbands don’t charge their wives for work they do.”

Much as Kate enjoyed the oblique reference to being Dylan’s wife, she didn’t think it was right for him to work on the converted carriage house without getting paid.

“That isn’t fair,” she objected.

“Tough,” he said, still sounding offended. “You won’t change my mind on this, Katydid. As a matter of fact, you’ll have to get used to not getting your way on everything. I’m not spending the next year saying ‘yes’ to you.”

He set his jaw, looking so endearingly macho and stubborn that a quiver went through her stomach. There’d always been a core of strength and certainty in Dylan that fascinated her. He was like a giant boulder in the middle of a river that water had no choice but to flow around. No matter what he might say, she’d never been able to talk him into anything that he didn’t actually want to do.

“Do you understand, Katydid?” he said insistently.

Her chin rose. “I understand. I’m not as spoiled as you think, and that’s something you’ll have to get used to.”

The level note in Kate’s voice made Dylan’s eyes narrow. He had the uncomfortable feeling he’d missed something significant, but he didn’t know what. Hell, women were a complete mystery. If he didn’t comprehend his own sisters, what made him think a woman like Katrina Douglas would be any easier? She lived in an ivory tower, and he lived in the real world.

“I just…all right,” he said finally. “When do you want to…uh…?”

“Get married?”

The easy way she said “married” made him wince. At least it was only for a year, and he wouldn’t have to feel responsible for her getting hooked up with the wrong man. Anyway, taking care of Kate was such a habit he wasn’t sure how to stop.

“Yeah, married,” Dylan muttered.

“It needs to be before my birthday, that’s all.”

“Okay, the sooner we do it, the sooner it’ll be over with. We don’t have to do one of those big society weddings do we?” he asked. “Your grandmother didn’t make that a requirement, did she?”

“No, just that I get married and live with my husband on the Douglas estate.”

“I’m surprised she put something so specific in the will.”

“I’m not,” Kate said glumly. “Grandmamma might have been old, but she had a mind like a steel trap. She was probably suspicious that I’d try to get around the conditions of my inheritance.”

Dylan’s breath caught in his throat as Kate stretched slowly, arching her back like a silky little cat. She took her time, reaching her hands toward the ceiling, her body twisting sensuously. It was totally innocent, and totally devastating to his already shaky peace of mind.

When she lowered her arms again she smiled lazily. “Sorry. I haven’t been sleeping well with so much to think about. It’ll be better tonight now that we’re getting things settled.”

Great.

She was going to sleep like a baby, and he was going home to a cold shower.

Gritting his teeth, Dylan ordered his body to stop behaving like a teenager with his first case of lust. This was Katydid, for heaven’s sake, he didn’t have any business getting stirred up over her. She’d asked for his help because she trusted him. Besides, it was temporary insanity. He’d get over it and then everything would be the same between them.

Ignoring the voice inside his brain that was laughing sarcastically, he leaned forward.

“How do you want to handle the ceremony?”

Kate drew a circle on the table with the tip of her finger. “How about going over to Victoria? Your brother’s wedding there was beautiful.”

A frown creased Dylan’s forehead. Victoria, British Columbia, was popular with courting couples, and the O’Rourke women had raved endlessly over what a romantic setting it had been for Kane and Beth’s wedding. But it didn’t seem right for him to marry Katydid in a place intended for lovers, not when they were just friends making a paper commitment for a year. It was much easier thinking about it that way—a paper commitment. Not really a marriage.

“I’d rather keep it smaller, here in Seattle,” he said after a moment. “Maybe just the two of us in a civil ceremony at the courthouse.”

Kate’s eyelids dropped instantly, yet he thought he saw disappointment in their sea-green depths before it was hidden. But surely she didn’t want a romantic wedding—or worse, a church wedding. There was something sacrilegious about going into a church and promising to love, honor and cherish when you were planning to get divorced in a year.

“Won’t your mother be disappointed?” Kate murmured after a moment. “I know how much she enjoyed it when Kane and the others got married. We could ask her pastor to do the ceremony. It wouldn’t have to be a big deal.”

Dylan winced.

Much as he wanted his mother to stop pestering him about settling down, he didn’t want to hurt her. But she’d be both worried and appalled if she knew the truth about why he was marrying Katydid. Fond as she was of Kate, she’d say they were making a huge mistake by using the sacred institution of marriage for something other than love. He was a little uneasy about it himself, but it wasn’t as if they’d really be married.

No sex, for one thing.

Lord, the next year was going to be dismal.

Unfortunately, sex deprivation didn’t seem like a good enough reason to say no. Dylan cleared his throat. Kate was so innocent, she probably didn’t have a clue about what she was asking from him.

“Katydid…I just don’t feel comfortable about having some preacher speak words over us.” His inexplicable physical reaction to her was causing another kind of discomfort, but she didn’t need to know about that.

A stillness crept over Kate until she slowly nodded. “I see. So we’ll do it at a courthouse, or wherever civil ceremonies are offered.”

Swell, now he felt like a selfish crumb.

Husbands probably felt like that a lot, so he was getting off to a good start. Moreover, it didn’t even make sense because Kate knew the ceremony wasn’t supposed to mean anything. So why did he feel guilty?

He sighed. “Look, I know you wanted—”

“No,” she interrupted quietly. “You don’t know. It’s fine. We’ll have a civil ceremony and explain that we were in too much of a hurry to wait for a big wedding. That should satisfy the lawyers. They’ve been nagging me about the deadline, anyway, so they should understand.”

Dylan searched Kate’s face, trying to guess what was going through her head. If she thought anyone would understand their marriage, then she was fooling herself. Katydid was like a shaft of moonlight—beautiful and unattainable, with quicksilver emotions and a pedigree of snobbish old wealth and privilege. While he was the son of down-to-earth Irish immigrants who’d worked hard and made a place for themselves in a new country.

They were utterly incompatible.

The only reason anyone might be deceived was because of the charity events she’d dragged him to over the years. Of course, his family had often hinted about something between them, but he’d always laughed it off.

Now they were the ones who’d be laughing.

Chapter Three

“Hold on for a minute,” Kane O’Rourke ordered.

Dylan wanted to yank his collar open, but his brother was too busy fastening the tie around his neck. Kane had filled their father’s shoes after his death, and he seemed to think this was one of his responsibilities.

“I can’t breathe,” Dylan grumbled.

“The groom has to be presentable, and that means a properly tied tie. Isn’t that right?” Kane appealed to the rest of the male O’Rourkes crowded into the smallest of their mother’s upstairs bedrooms.

The others nodded agreement with varying shades of amusement on their faces.

Dylan’s carefully laid plans for a quiet civil ceremony at the courthouse hadn’t materialized. Instead he was marrying Kate in his mother’s backyard with the entire family—plus a few dozen uncles, aunts and cousins—in attendance.

“I feel like a damn fool,” Dylan muttered.

“It’s the O’Rourke curse,” Neil said mildly. “Remember? Putting women and O’Rourke men together usually results in the men feeling foolish.”

A chorus of agreement followed, making Dylan glare. They didn’t know the half of it. And what did Neil know about it anyway? Or Kane and Patrick? They were besotted over their wives. He’d never seen more billing and cooing in his life than when the three couples were together at family gatherings.

Now he was supposedly joining the ranks of happily-in-love-and-delighted-to-be-married.

With an effort Dylan unclenched his jaw. His sisters-in-law were a charming trio of women, but ever since he’d announced his engagement to Kate, things had gotten completely out of control. You would have thought he planned to have the ceremony in an alligator-infested swamp rather than a courthouse.

What was wrong with a courthouse? A simple civil ceremony, no witnesses required—it was the best way to get married, especially when you didn’t really plan to be married. But that was the problem—he couldn’t admit any such thing.

“I suppose everyone thinks I’m going to be next,” said Connor with a grim look on his face. He was the youngest of the brothers, twenty-seven, and even more determinedly single than the rest of them. That is, the way the rest of them used to be.

Just wait a year, little brother, Dylan advised silently. I’ll be rejoining the bachelor ranks.

Well, it might be over a year.

He’d been thinking that it wouldn’t look good to the lawyers if he dumped Kate on her cute rear end after twelve months. They should go a while longer so it wouldn’t seem quite so much as if she’d gotten married just for her grandmother’s house. It might not make any difference legally, but he didn’t want Kate to be embarrassed. There’d been so much hysteria over putting the wedding together that he hadn’t had time to tell her.

A knock came at the door. “Is everyone decent in there? And fully clothed?” called their mother’s voice.

Everyone except Connor chuckled. It was an old joke, going back to the time when the preacher had come to visit on a hot Sunday afternoon and six-year-old Connor had streaked through the house, bare-butt naked. When Pegeen had scolded her son, he’d looked at her earnestly and said he was decent because he’d just been to church, but that it was so much cooler without clothing.

“I wish everyone would just forget about that,” Connor grumbled. Being the youngest son wasn’t easy, but it was an old complaint and lacked any heat.

Patrick reached out to open the door, a smile still on his face. “Decent and clothed,” he said.

“All right, then. Now all of you go on downstairs, I want to talk with Dylan.” Her Irish brogue was stronger than usual, the way it always was when she was feeling emotional.

Dylan watched his brothers and two closest cousins file good-naturedly from the room. He knew his mother had spoken privately with Kane, Patrick and Neil before their weddings, and he’d been dreading the moment; lying didn’t come easily, particularly to someone he loved.

Pegeen hesitated, then sighed softly. “Your father always wanted to be here, talkin’ to you before you got married. But then, I think you know what he’d say, don’t you?”

“I know.”

Keenan O’Rourke had taught his sons simple lessons about honor and fidelity and about what being a man meant; lessons that were part of the everyday fabric of living and not just for special occasions. So, yes, Dylan knew what his father would say. The words weren’t necessary.

“It’s a fine thing to make your own way in the world,” Pegeen murmured. “And you’re a fine man. But pay heed to what your heart tells you, son. ’Tis the one thing you’ve forgotten how to do.”

A frown creased Dylan’s forehead, but his mother continued before he could say anything.

“Only I shan’t worry overmuch,” she said. “Your Katydid is a darling child. She’ll help you to listen to your heart, as well as your head.”

“She’s a child, all right,” Dylan agreed without thinking, then winced. He hardly sounded like an adoring groom. “That is, she’s still so young.”

A smile curved his mother’s lips, reminding him of a cat with cream on its whiskers. “You’ve never wanted to see her as grown up, but she’s old enough to know what she wants. Katrina has a woman’s needs. I don’t think she’ll be lettin’ you forget that.”

He got a peculiar feeling, rather like the ground was moving beneath him in an earthquake. The whole conversation was making him uneasy—much like his recent discussions with Kate. She was honest and straightforward about everything, and yet he kept sensing currents of unspoken emotions. He supposed it was natural, she’d once had dreams of love and happily-ever-after, and here she was, forced to get married because of her battle-ax of a grandmother. Or rather, because of the battle-ax’s last will and testament.

He’d had his own lawyer look at the will, and Jane Douglas had indeed tied up her estate in language as stern and unbreakable as she’d once been herself.

The stubborn old bat.

“Is it time to go downstairs?” he asked gruffly.

“I’ll send one of the boys up when Kate is ready,” Pegeen assured. She kissed him, then paused at the door.

“ ’Tis bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.”

Dylan closed his eyes and restrained his groan. What would his mother say about “luck” when he ended up with a divorce in a little over a year? He couldn’t tell anyone it was really like an annulment since they wouldn’t be intimate. One thing was clear from the will, it had to appear to be a real marriage, even if it wasn’t.

Maybe they could just say they’d mistaken friendship for love and had decided to end things before they made each other miserable. It sounded okay but Dylan still didn’t feel right about it.

Lord, Katydid had gotten him into some messes before, but this one was a doozy.

The strains of the wedding march spilled through the garden and Kate held her breath. Her heart was pounding so hard she was shaking from her white satin shoes to the miniature roses pinned in her hair.

She knew Dylan wasn’t happy about how the quiet courthouse ceremony had become a romantic garden affair, but it was the wedding she’d always dreamed of having. And, since she expected it to be her one and only wedding, it was fine with her, even if he was upset about it.

“Ready?” asked Kane O’Rourke. He smiled and extended his arm. “I’m sorry your parents couldn’t be here, but I’m honored to fill in as ‘father of the bride.’”

“I’m the one who’s honored,” Kate said sincerely, yet a stab of guilt went through her. She hadn’t wanted to hear her parents disparage Dylan, so she’d waited until the last minute before calling them in London to say she was getting married. Her father had missed so many of the important events in her life, it never occurred to her that he’d be disappointed not to walk her down the aisle.

It had never occurred to her that they’d want to come at all.

She searched Kane’s face, wondering if he disapproved of the hasty way his brother was getting married. If he did, he hadn’t said so. The O’Rourkes had been so supportive it made her want to cry. Was love supposed to be this difficult?

“It’s time to go,” he said. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” But they hadn’t taken three steps before her feet faltered. “You know how much I love Dylan, don’t you?”

“I think the whole family knows that.”

Everyone except Dylan, Kate thought to herself. She forced herself to breathe. “I’ll do everything possible to make him happy,” she said.

“Well, if my little brother gives you trouble, you’ve got my number. It’s about time he woke up when it comes to you.”

She blinked and walked out of the house with Kane, at the same time thinking about what he’d said.

It’s about time he woke up when it comes to you…

Did Kane know that Dylan wasn’t in love with her? Maybe he thought Dylan really was in love, but hadn’t realized it yet. Or Kane might be deluding himself, just wanting to believe his brother had fallen in love.

Maybe…she dragged her racing thoughts under control. Maybe it didn’t mean anything.

It was a lovely day, unusually warm for May in the Seattle area, and the yard was filled with flowers, both growing and arranged in baskets set in every available space. Kate might have wanted a romantic wedding, but she’d tried to support Dylan’s plans for a courthouse ceremony. As a result his mother and the rest of the family had taken over. The place was beautiful. The photographer Pegeen had hired would be pleased.

Dylan waited for her in front of a rose-covered arbor, banked in ferns. His face was impassive, almost cold, and she shivered. The idea that she might be making a huge mistake was foremost in her mind. But Dylan wasn’t cold like her father, he was a decent, wonderful man, even if he did look as remote as an Alaskan glacier at the moment.

Just then he smiled and her heart melted. For once in her life she was going to take the risk of getting what she really wanted, and she’d deal with the doubts later.

“Hey, there, Katydid,” he murmured, holding out his hand.

She wasn’t wearing gloves and the hard calluses on Dylan’s fingers against her softer skin sent sensual images through her mind. What would it be like to have those same calloused fingers caressing her body? Would she ever find out?

Warmth crept up Kate’s face, and she hastily focused her attention on the judge’s face. One thing Dylan had succeeded on having was a civil, rather than religious, ceremony. She’d tried not to let it hurt, knowing Dylan saw the whole thing as just a favor to her, but she would have liked having Pegeen’s pastor do the wedding.

The judge said a few words about the sanctity of marriage and Dylan stiffened. Her tummy, already swooping with nerves, took a plunge that rivaled the highest roller coaster drop in the world. How would she get him to look at her in a whole new way if he was so against it in the first place? It wasn’t a new thought, it just seemed more of a problem now that they were actually getting married.

“Do you, Dylan James O’Rourke, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” asked the judge.

“I do,” he replied.

“Do you, Katrina Cecelia Douglas, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” asked the judge.

“I…do.”

Her slight hesitation earned a quick glance from Dylan, who had been staring at the hedge. One of his eyebrows lifted. He wouldn’t back down now, not having promised to help her, but he undoubtedly hoped that she’d decided she couldn’t go through with it. The judge, a friend of the O’Rourkes, continued smoothly, seeming unaware of the undercurrents between bride and groom.

Dylan looked positively fierce when he had to repeat the vow to “love, honor and cherish.” Luckily the moment passed before anyone noticed, and she was making the same promise.

The wedding band slid over Kate’s third finger, sending another pang of regret through her. Dylan wouldn’t be wearing a ring himself, he’d told the family it wouldn’t be safe with him working with construction equipment. She was the only one who knew it was just an excuse, one more reminder of their temporary arrangement.

When the judge said it was time for them to kiss, Kate’s lungs refused to function. How often had she dreamed of kissing Dylan, only to wake up and find it wasn’t real? Friendly hugs and busses on the cheek weren’t the same as the way a man embraces a woman.

Dylan put his hands on her shoulders and drew her close. Their gazes locked, then he looked down and focused on her mouth. Could he see the pulse jumping in her throat, the heat blooming across her skin, just because he was close?

Dylan, Kate cried silently. She’d give him anything he wanted, if she just knew what it was.

Very gently, he pressed a polite kiss to her mouth and ice condensed around her stomach. She couldn’t bear the thought of him drawing back, still so cool and remote, and she opened her mouth to protest.

This is our wedding, please…

Dylan felt Kate’s rush of breath and without conscious thought pulled her against him. She was clean and fresh, and he deepened the kiss, forgetting that she was the kid he’d always taken care of.

Sweet…she tasted so sweet.

He thrust his tongue between her teeth, trying to capture the elusive flavor, his senses infused with her fragrant warmth. He hadn’t held anything so soft in longer than he could remember, and his blood burned hot and heavy in his groin. She arched against him, her breasts seeming to plump into his chest. A ringing sound filled his ears.

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