“You’re enjoying this!”

Ashe took a step closer. “You like to play with people, shake things up, push people out of their comfort zone, shock them a bit.”

“Well, yes. People come to me because they want to change, and for that, you have to shake things up. As a teacher and therapist—”

“I’m not talking about you as a therapist,” he said, taking one more step forward, until he was absolutely looming over her with his big, powerful body.

“Oh,” she said softly. He was so close she could smell the scent he was wearing, something dark and spicy and very, very sexy. She felt little waves of heat coming off his body. “You mean—”

“As a woman, Lilah,” he said quietly, his already deep voice getting a little deeper.

She gave a little shiver that was part pleasure and part … okay, no. All pleasure. Nothing but.

Dear Reader,

The idea of the perfect bride, perfect wedding, even perfect marriage persists, even though no woman or marriage could ever meet that expectation.

Which is the reason I found the “Mess the Dress” trend so interesting.

Brides, in their wedding gowns, being photographed rolling in the grass or walking through the ocean? It just seems wrong, even shocking at first, but then the images become compelling, fun, adventurous, freeing.

We will not be perfect brides with perfect dresses or perfect marriages.

We’re real women, and we’ve had enough of trying to live up to that standard.

And as always with things that catch and hold my attention, there’s a book idea. In this case, the story of Lilah, a woman who helps women deal emotionally with divorce. She uses her unconventional methods—including “Mess the Dress” sessions—as a way of freeing women from that need to be perfect, to do everything right, to always make the right decisions.

Hope you enjoy it,

Teresa Hill

About the Author

TERESA HILL tells people if they want to be writers, to find a spouse who’s patient, understanding and interested in being a patron of the arts. Lucky for her, she found a man just like that, who’s been with her through all the ups and downs of being a writer. They live in Travelers Rest, South Carolina, in the foothills of the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains, with two beautiful, spoiled dogs and two gigantic, lazy cats.

Matchmaking
by Moonlight
Teresa Hill

www.millsandboon.co.uk

A very lucky writer will find herself surrounded

by kind, supportive, smart people who make her books

better. I count myself very lucky to have at my side

my wonderful editor, Charles Griemsman,

and agent, Helen Breitwieser.

Chapter One

Ashe had been warned. The elderly ladies inside were somewhat eccentric, not always reasonable, but supposedly perfectly sane.

It was the perfectly sane part that had Circuit Court Judge Thomas Ashford—Ashe to his friends—worried. Why would his friend and longtime colleague Wyatt Gray have included perfectly sane in his description, unless Wyatt thought there would be some question about the ladies’ sanity?

Wyatt had all but dared him to refuse to help, and Wyatt knew Ashe had a hard time refusing any kind of dare. So before Ashe had fully realized what he’d agreed to, he’d promised to do some vague favor for the ladies inside, something to do with a ceremony of some sort.

The front door of the three-story weathered stone mansion opened, and his first sight of the three little old ladies did nothing to allay his fears.

He’d seldom, if ever, been subject to such a frank appraisal from a woman in her seventies—at least—let alone three of them, and it was more than a little unnerving. One of them seemed quite taken with his shoulders. The middle one just grinned at him. And the third looked as if she was considering testing the strength of his bicep to see if he worked out regularly, which he did. Not that he could imagine why it mattered to her.

He felt like a specimen of some rare and misunderstood species in a zoo.

What in the world were they planning to do to him?

“Judge Ashford, welcome to my home. I’m Eleanor Barrington Holmes,” the middle one said, extending her hand to him. “I suspect we’ve been introduced before, although you may not remember. I believe you know my godson, Tate Darnley.”

“From the Downtown Redevelopment Committee? Of course. He’s doing an amazing job. Very nice to meet you again, ma’am,” Ashe said, taking her hand. “You do a lot of good work for the community.”

“I do my best, young man. Please allow me to present my dear friends, Kathleen Gray, Wyatt’s late uncle’s widow, and her cousin Gladdy Carlton.”

“Ladies,” Ashe said, shaking each of their hands.

“I’m also Wyatt’s grandmother-in-law,” the one who liked his shoulders said.

“Such a dear boy, and a delightful husband to our dear Jane,” the one who’d looked as if she’d considered pinching him said.

Ashe tried not to look too shocked at that. Wyatt Gray, a delightful husband? That would certainly be a remarkable turnaround for a man who’d been one of the most successful divorce attorneys in the state, a man so cynical about the state of marriage that the idea of him ever entering into it was impossible to believe.

And yet, from everything Ashe had seen and heard, that was exactly what Wyatt had done and he seemed perfectly happy with his choice. Which was even stranger.

“Wyatt said you ladies needed help with a ceremony of some kind?” Ashe asked.

Eleanor smiled up at him. And slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Yes, Judge, that’s exactly what we need. Why don’t you step out onto the patio for some tea, and we’ll tell you all about it.”

He let them lead him through several rooms to the patio at the back of the house where they sat down at an ornate black iron patio set. One of the ladies poured him a cup of hot tea, while another set a platter of baked goods in front of him.

“Our dear Amy, Tate’s wife, made fresh ginger cookies this morning,” Eleanor told him.

Ashe had noticed it smelled wonderful in the house and thought he remembered something about Tate Darnley’s wife opening a bakery recently and maybe catering an event Ashe had attended. He took a still-warm cookie from the platter and started to eat. “Excellent.”

“Amy does all the baking for our events,” Eleanor said. “Weddings, receptions, fundraisers, luncheons, even classes.”

So he would at least be well fed if he agreed to whatever the ladies wanted. Judging from the ginger cookies, that was a plus.

“Wyatt tells us you divorce people,” Kathleen said.

One of them needed a divorce? He was always surprised when people their age called it quits on marriage, although it did certainly seem that everyone eventually did. Still it seemed as if people would at some point think they were safe from all that, when he’d learned in his job that people never were.

Just the other day he’d had a couple in his courtroom who were ending a marriage after forty-four years. Forty-four years? How could you endure forty-four years and suddenly decide it wasn’t working? Had it worked for forty-three years and then stopped? Or had it been kind of bad all along, but not bad enough, until that last year? The last week? Last day?

Ashe really didn’t understand.

“I preside over divorces as part of my duties in family court,” he said. “One of you needs a divorce?”

“Oh, no. We’re not married. It’s for a series of classes at the estate—”

“Wyatt said you might be able to help us,” Kathleen said.

“Possibly,” Ashe said, knowing better than to agree without knowing what he was agreeing to first this time. “What exactly do you need, ladies?”

“A ceremony.”

“A divorce ceremony.”

Ashe was confused. “We don’t really have a ceremony.”

“But you could do one, couldn’t you? You’re a judge. You can marry people, can’t you?”

“Well, yes, I’m legally empowered to marry people.” Although that was one duty he had yet to perform.

“Fine, just do that in reverse.”

Ashe was starting to worry about the perfectly sane comments. “It doesn’t exactly work that way, ladies. Why don’t you tell me precisely what you need.”

“A divorce ceremony. Could you make one up?” Kathleen suggested.

“Or we could make one up. I’ve been divorced,” Eleanor said. “I remember everything about my divorce.”

“I’m a widow,” Kathleen said.

“And I’ve never been married,” Gladdy said.

Ashe helped himself to another cookie, chewing slowly, striving for patience, and then asked, “Why do you need a divorce ceremony?”

“For the classes,” Eleanor said, as if that made perfect sense.

Ashe smiled. They were kind of sweet and definitely interesting, but maybe not completely sane. “Ladies, what kind of class requires a divorce ceremony?”

“One for people who are divorced,” Kathleen said.

Of course.

Why had Ashe even needed to ask?

“So, you’re having classes for people who are divorced?”

“Yes,” Eleanor said.

Ashe shook his head. “But, if the people coming are already divorced, why do they need to have a ceremony?”

Kathleen frowned. “It may be better if Lilah explains it. It sounds so much better when she does it.”

Lilah? Ashe hadn’t been warned there was a fourth one. He wondered if the whole concept would sound saner if Lilah explained it. Couldn’t sound any crazier, he decided.

“All right,” he said. “Where is Lilah?”

“She should be along any moment,” Eleanor said.

And that’s when Ashe looked up and saw … well, it looked like a mostly naked woman running across the back lawn.

“Oh, dear,” Kathleen said. “I so hoped they would be done with all that before you arrived.”

“I believe you may be a bit early, Judge,” Eleanor said.

“Although I’ve always appreciated punctuality in a man,” Gladdy said, giving him a not at all shy smile.

Ashe was really worried now. One of them was flirting with him, and one of them was nearly naked. He hoped it wasn’t the nearly naked one who was supposed to make sense.

“Ladies, I’m not sure if Wyatt told you, but I have to stand for election next year to keep my seat on the bench.” Eleanor should understand. She had long been active in local politics, successfully raising money for a number of candidates in addition to her work with various charities. Someone Ashe should know better, he’d been told. Still … “I’m not sure I’m the right man for this job. I’d really like to help you, but someone in my position in the community has to maintain a certain level of propriety—”

“That doesn’t sound like any fun,” Gladdy said with a smile.

“Gladdy, please,” Eleanor said.

She gave a little shrug, not looking at all sorry for her comment. Was she really flirting with him? A man less than half her age? He feared she was.

“I don’t think it will be much fun, either,” Ashe admitted. “But the election comes with the job. So, if you ladies will excuse me, I’ll just—”

“You can’t go yet,” Eleanor said, grabbing him by the arm. “You haven’t even met Lilah.”

Ashe was honestly a little afraid to meet Lilah. What if she was even crazier than the rest of them?

“She’ll be done soon,” Kathleen asked. “And then she can explain everything to you.”

Ashe wanted to ask exactly what Lilah was doing but wasn’t sure he wanted to know. From what he could tell, someone was on the back lawn of the estate, naked or nearly so, with a long, flowing wedding veil. She seemed to be running around, the glossy white veil trailing after her, and another woman was either chasing her or perhaps photographing her?

Yes, maybe that was it. Now he saw a third person, carrying around some lights on a pole. Photographer’s lights?

He hoped so. That was the sanest explanation he could come up with. That what he was seeing was a photo session.

What could a divorce ceremony possibly have to do with the photo session of a scantily clad bride? No matter what, it couldn’t be good for a judge facing election soon. People wanted their judges to be above reproach, respectable, steady, solid and, of course, to show good judgment in all things.

Ashe turned his attention from the back lawn of the estate to the three little old ladies with him. He would swear they were trying to look perfectly innocent.

“It’s not what you think,” Eleanor tried to assure him.

“I have no idea what I think,” Ashe admitted.

“And I bet it’s been a long time since a woman surprised you,” Gladdy said. “We all need to be surprised every now and then, dear.”

No, really, he didn’t, Ashe thought, smiling uneasily.

He liked his life just the way it was.

“Perfect. We got it. Exactly what we wanted.” Lilah Ryan lowered her camera with a satisfied sigh. She’d been a budding photographer in high school and through her first year of college, then put it aside for a more practical life, until she realized that being so practical meant losing so much of herself in the process. She wasn’t doing that anymore. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate your patience.”

The man carrying the heavy lights for the shoot, Ben—actually her model’s boyfriend—groaned as he put the lights down. “Only took twice as long as it was supposed to.”

“But we got it right,” Lilah said, then turned to the model she’d hired for the shoot. “Zoe, thank you so much. You were great. You’re going to look beautiful, I promise. And the posters will be all over town.”

Zoe stood tall and slender, the wedding veil wrapped around her, until she slipped into the robe Ben offered. “I don’t think they’ll let you put these all over town.”

“They will, you’ll see.” Lilah was certain.

The image would be both provocative and tasteful. Lilah would make sure of it. And everyone would wonder what was going to happen at her classes, which was exactly what she wanted.

Lilah had promised herself she was going to do all that she could to get everything she wanted from now on. No more waiting. No more putting aside her own wishes for anyone else. She’d done that for too long.

The three of them picked up their equipment and headed back to the house. It really was lovely, the perfect setting for a wedding. Which also made it the perfect setting for Lilah’s classes.

She said goodbye to Zoe and Ben, who helpfully offered to pack up their equipment for her, then went to find Eleanor, whom she called a cousin, but was actually her mother’s second cousin’s aunt. Eleanor claimed she knew the perfect person to perform the divorce ceremony, and he was supposed to stop by this afternoon.

Lilah was so happy. Everything was coming together just as she’d hoped. She had the perfect location, this beautiful estate where people often came to get married. From her private life-coaching practice, she already had a number of people eager to attend her first series of classes, and now she also had what she was sure would be a striking, provocative image to use on her new promotional materials.

Someone to perform a divorce ceremony would be the icing on the cake.

Some people might think it sounded silly, a divorce ceremony, or a series of classes featuring workshops, group exercises and emotional clearing to help get over a relationship gone bad.

Lilah didn’t care. She knew better. She’d learned a lot from the mistakes she’d made in her own life and in dealing with her own divorce. The life-coaching approach wasn’t what she’d always envisioned for her career as a therapist, but she was thrilled to be doing this. Over the years, she’d seen too many people doing the same thing, over and over again, stuck in the misery of their current lives and unable to move forward. It had been maddening, frustrating and left her feeling as if she wasn’t truly helping anyone.

But now she felt as if she was helping and that this was simply what she was born to do.

Humming happily to herself, she walked through the house until she found Eleanor in the dining room with her two best friends, Kathleen and Gladdy, and a man.

An exceptionally good-looking man.

Not that Lilah really cared all that much how he looked. After all, a woman could only gaze at a man for so long. Eventually he opened his mouth and said something, often something offensive or stupid or simply dull. And then he’d do something controlling or belittling or just plain obnoxious. Looks came to mean so little when the reality of the man set in.

Still, this one was more appealing on the surface than most, Lilah had to admit. All starch and polish, with a beautifully tailored suit over an equally impressive body. He was tall, broad, powerful, leaning perhaps toward arrogance, but he had great dark hair and beautiful dark eyes.

“Lilah, darling,” Eleanor said, beaming at her. “I found the perfect man for you.”

“Man?” Lilah backed up a full three inches, not wanting to get anywhere near a perfect man for herself.

“For your divorce ceremony, darling,” Eleanor said hastily. “This is Judge Ashford. Judge, my dear cousin Lilah Ryan.”

“Oh.” Lilah was surprised. “Judge?”

He held out his hand to her. “Ashe, please.”

Lilah shook his hand. “I hadn’t thought to get a real judge.”

“We thought it would lend a nice spirit of authenticity to the ceremony,” Eleanor explained. “He and Kathleen’s grandson-in-law, Wyatt, went to law school together at Penn.”

“Oh, okay,” Lilah said, thinking that the judge did not look at all convinced he should help her. “Eleanor explained what I need?”

The judge hesitated, looking from Lilah to Eleanor, then back to Lilah. “A bit.”

“It always sounds so much better coming from you,” Eleanor said.

It sounded kind of wacky, actually, Lilah had found, but she explained it better than most people. Still, people got married in a ritual. Why was it so odd to use some sort of ritual to mark a divorce?

“It’s a series of classes for women who are going through divorce. Actually, most of them are already divorced, they just haven’t quite gotten over the relationship. You know, put it behind them, moved on.”

“And the ceremony …” Judge Ashford said.

“Is one more way of helping them move on with their lives,” Lilah said. “It’s really quite simple. Nothing complicated about it. A ceremony to formally mark the occasion. What else can I tell you?”

“Just one thing.” He frowned, looking a tad uncomfortable. “Are these women going to be naked?”

“Naked?” Lilah said.

“He saw part of your photo shoot, dear,” Eleanor said.

“Oh.” Darn. That was unfortunate and certainly not the first impression she’d have wanted to send to anyone about what she was doing here.

Still, they’d been on the very back edge of the estate, up against the background of the tall, thick hedges there, so no one outside the estate could have seen them. And if he’d been in the house, from that distance across the expansive back lawn, how much could he have possibly seen? People were practically naked on magazine covers these days and all over TV, after all.

Lilah lifted her face to look him squarely in the eye, feeling distinctly a little huff of judgment and disapproval in the air between them, which got her back up like nothing else these days. And truly surprised her.

How could such a handsome, vital-looking man be so troubled by a woman without her clothes on? Most men, she’d found, were all for naked women wherever they might be found, particularly a woman like Zoe. A young, beautiful, naked model? What could be better than that?

Lilah gave him a bit of that attitude right back. “You have a problem with naked women, Judge?”

Behind her, she heard Eleanor make a sound that was a cross between coughing and choking.

The judge blinked down at her, as he drew himself up even straighter.

Lilah closed her eyes, took a breath and tried to be good. She was looking for his help, after all. “What I meant was … It’s not like we’re doing a nudist retreat.”

The judge studied her even more carefully. “Good to hear it.”

And then, Lilah couldn’t really tell herself if he was being condescending or was honestly relieved people would be keeping their clothes on. For some reason, she really wanted to know, and sometimes, lately, after years of holding back and being careful and not really saying what she wanted to, Lilah just did. She said exactly what she wanted to, caution be damned.

“I mean, it’s not a rule or anything, but it’s certainly not what we intend,” she told him.

He frowned. “So, you’re saying—”

“I don’t think anyone will be naked,” she said, then couldn’t resist adding, “unless they really want to be, of course.”

Behind her, she heard Kathleen and Gladdy laugh. In front of her, Lilah saw that she’d brought the judge to a stony silence. She thought she detected the slightest tightening of his jaw, which at this time of day was covered with the faintest hint of stubble, which she admitted to herself was quite attractive on the man. And those dark eyes flashing with a bit of annoyance as they stared at her weren’t bad, either.

It occurred to her that perhaps people didn’t tease judges as a rule, and she doubted many people had ever mocked him. What a shame. He looked like a man in need of teasing, of loosening up a bit, having a little fun.

She could almost hear her former self saying in her own head, Stop playing with the judge, Lilah. He is not enjoying it.

But honestly, if he was going to be such a stick-in-the-mud about everything, she didn’t want him around her students.

She crossed her arms in front of her, smiled as sweetly as she could manage, and said, “So, you do have a problem with naked women, Judge?”

He smiled back, not at all sweetly. Condescendingly, Lilah thought, disapprovingly. “In public, yes. I’m afraid my job demands it.”

“What a shame,” Lilah said, that sweet smile pasted on her face.

“Oh, stop. She’s teasing you, Judge,” Eleanor said, jumping in. “Lilah’s never once said a word about people being naked here at her classes, and I feel certain she would have mentioned that before we agreed to her using the estate for her work. Lilah, stop toying with the man.”

“Sorry,” Lilah said, trying to look contrite.

He wasn’t buying it.

She was really starting to think people didn’t tease the judge.

“I wouldn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable,” she said, looking him right in the eye.

He smiled then, a different kind of smile, an I-understand-you-perfectly smile. Then he leaned toward her and whispered, “I think you like it a lot. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the kind of woman who lives to make people uncomfortable.”

Lilah felt a little kick of heat, starting where his warm breath brushed past her ear and slithering through her whole body from head to toe, her senses dancing with delight and that long-dormant hint of sexual interest.

Which honestly freaked Lilah out a bit.

And the judge knew it, damn him. She could tell by the look in his eyes. She’d taken some joy in making him uncomfortable, and he’d very happily done the same to her. Did that mean they were even? That they could stop sparring now?

“I’m … sometimes, I open my mouth and … inappropriate things come out,” she said. “Sorry. People will be keeping their clothes on. For everything except, maybe, the destroy-the-dress part of things.”

“You’re going to destroy dresses?”

He looked genuinely baffled by her. So many people were, and she wasn’t sorry. She liked it. She’d been boring for too long.

“Wedding dresses,” she explained. “As part of the workshop, women will bring their wedding dresses and … do whatever they want with them. Slash them. Burn them. Roll in the grass with them, jump in the creek along the back of the property …”

“While they’re wearing them?” Eleanor asked.

“Yes,” Lilah said softly. “I mean, they’ll start out wearing them. And then they’ll ruin them in any way they want, and … well, I don’t know how much people might have left of their dresses when they’re done. We want them to feel free to be as creative as they like in their destruction of their dresses. I wouldn’t want to stifle any honest expression of emotion. It’s therapeutic.”

“I’m sure,” the judge said.

“It is,” Lilah insisted. “I’m just trying to be completely honest here. I suppose there might be some people who really destroy their dresses and might be left … not wearing a lot afterward. So, if it’s a deal-breaker for you—”

“Wait,” Eleanor said, jumping in. “You two have hardly had a chance to talk, and I’m sure the judge just needs to have a better understanding of the whole concept of your classes. She really is trying to help people, Judge. Lilah’s been a successful therapist for years.”

He cocked his head sideways at that and just stared at Lilah. She let her nose inch a tad higher and tried not to be offended, knowing he thought she was too flaky to be a highly educated woman, although she had to admit the phrase “successful therapist for years” was definitely an exaggeration.

“She has a PhD in psychology,” Eleanor bragged.

“Actually, I have a master’s degree, and I’m working on my PhD. The classes are actually part of the research I plan to do for my dissertation,” she informed him, although it wasn’t something she often mentioned these days unless she was specifically asked about her formal training.

He looked taken aback at that.

Okay, she’d actually been working on her master’s degree for nearly a decade and had barely started her PhD classes on the side as her then-husband had pursued his dream of being a college president and they’d moved three times. All of which meant Lilah had changed schools three times and worked full-time at a number of different college administration jobs, putting aside her own dreams and ambitions for a man who, in the end, couldn’t even be faithful to her and also couldn’t stand the idea of her being more educated and more successful than he was. What a mistake that had been.

“Lilah, darling, didn’t you say you have to be somewhere before six?” Eleanor reminded her.

“Yes, I do.” No more playing with the judge. Not now. “I have a meeting with the printer who’s making my posters for my classes.”

“You and the judge should arrange a time to talk later. You can answer all of his questions, give him a chance to make up his mind about this, once he has all the information. Perhaps … over dinner?”

Eleanor beamed at both of them, looking like a woman who was up to something.

“No?” Eleanor said finally, when neither of them seemed happy about the dinner suggestion. “Lunch? Maybe just … coffee? Lilah, darling, give him your business card and take one of his.”

They both dutifully produced and exchanged business cards, the judge looking highly skeptical.

“She’ll call you,” Eleanor promised, then took the judge by the arm. “Let me show you out. We’re so happy you could come by today. I’m sure a man like you is so busy. I know Wyatt is …”

Lilah watched the two of them go, then turned to look at her cousin’s two partners in crime, Kathleen and Gladdy, both hilarious and outspoken women who seemed to have lived their lives to the fullest. They, too, looked as if they were up to something.

Still, they were just three little old ladies.

How much trouble could they possibly cause?

Chapter Two

Ashe went straight from his odd meeting at the Barrington estate to the law offices of his friend and colleague Wyatt Gray, where he barreled in and found Wyatt frowning over paperwork.

“This is a joke, right?” Ashe said.

Wyatt feigned a look of a complete innocent, something the man hadn’t been since grade school at least. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“This favor you asked me to do?” Ashe glared at him. “It’s a joke. It’s some kind of payback. I know it is.”

“Why would I be setting you up for anything?” Wyatt asked.

“I have no idea.”

Okay, maybe Ashe did, because there had been a time when the two men had enjoyed pulling little pranks and generally giving each other a hard time. Like Ashe taking every note Wyatt had on one of his cases from Wyatt’s briefcase, leaving him with nothing but completely blank pages on his legal pad and inside his files. It was something Wyatt hadn’t figured out until he was actually in front of Judge Whittaker, trying to give his opening argument. The look on Wyatt’s face had been priceless.

Or putting red lace panties in his briefcase another time, right before Wyatt was heading to court. He’d nearly choked when he’d opened up the briefcase, again in court in front of the same no-nonsense judge. But still, that was years ago and no proof of any kind had ever been found of Ashe’s guilt in either case. They weren’t kids straight out of law school. They didn’t do this anymore.

Did they?

“You went to Eleanor’s, I suppose?” Wyatt asked. “I told you, she can be a little—”

“Strange?” Ashe said.

“Sometimes.”

“Your in-laws are even stranger,” Ashe insisted.

“They’re an interesting group of women. But they’re not like … dangerous or anything. I mean, they’re all eighty-something—”

“Eighty-something?”

“Yeah. They lie about their ages, all of them. I guess women never really stop. But there are no mental competency issues—”

“What about the one prancing around in the backyard naked?”

Wyatt stopped cold. “Eleanor was dancing naked on the back lawn?”

“No. Not her.”

“Kathleen? Gladdy? There’s a naked octogenarian at Eleanor’s estate?” Wyatt winced.

“No. She wasn’t old. She was young. Twenty-something.”

“And naked? Really? Naked-naked?”

“She was wearing a wedding veil. A long, sheer wedding veil, but other than that, yeah, she was naked.”

“Eleanor let someone have a naked wedding at her estate?” Wyatt laughed out loud.

“No. Not a wedding. Just a woman in a wedding veil, a guy with lights and a woman with a camera,” Ashe explained.

“What in the world were they up to?”

“I have no idea,” Ashe said.

Wyatt sighed. “See, when I told you those women were … different? This is the kind of thing I meant.”

“Random naked women dancing on the lawn?” Ashe was starting to think Wyatt was as puzzled and surprised as he’d been at what had happened. Either that or Wyatt was a better actor than Ashe realized.

“Have you actually had any mental competency testing done on these women?” Ashe ventured.

“No. They’re fine, they’re the best of friends, just as happy as can be together. And when you have relatives who are eighty-something, you want them to be happy. When they’re happy, Jane’s happy, and when Jane’s happy, I’m happy. We just try to … you know, go along with whatever they want.” Wyatt shook his head. “What do they want now? Eleanor said something about classes. I assumed it was something to do with weddings.”

“Divorce,” Ashe told him. “The classes are about divorce.”

“What does that have to do with naked brides?”

“I don’t know. They’re your relatives. I thought it was some weird setup for a joke. I was sure of it. And now I’m supposed to meet again with Lilah, the one doing the classes, to let her explain everything to me.”

Wyatt nodded. “She’s a distant cousin of Eleanor’s. She grew up here. We actually went to the same private school in first or second grade, Eleanor says, but I’m not sure if I remember her. Her parents moved to Florida ages ago. I don’t think she’s been back in town long.”

“She was the one taking the photos.”

“Oh,” Wyatt said, then shrugged. “What’s she like these days?”

“Eleanor claimed she’s working on her PhD in psychology, but I have trouble believing that. And she looks like the love child of two hippies from a commune in the ‘70s, transported to the present time.”

“Oh. I hope she’s not … you know, up to something.”

“Up to something?”

“I mean, Lilah just popped up out of nowhere, and next thing I know, Eleanor invited her to move in. I haven’t had a chance to check her out myself yet. Neither has Eleanor’s godson, Tate. We have to be careful. The ladies don’t like it when they think we’re checking up on them.”

“So?”

Wyatt shrugged easily. “If you could just talk to Lilah, figure out what she’s trying to do, I’d really appreciate it. I know Tate would, too.”

Ashe groaned.

“Hey, you have no idea what I’m dealing with here trying to look after these women,” Wyatt complained. “They’re manipulative, stubborn as can be, determined to maintain their independence at any price. And it’s not like you can twist their arms until they talk. They’re little old ladies.”

“I’m so happy to hear you’re not abusing your elderly relatives,” Ashe quipped.

“Remember, this is good for you, too. Eleanor could be a tremendous help when it comes time for your election. That woman knows everyone in this town, and she knows how to raise money. You’ll need money, and I know you’re going to hate asking people for it.”

Ashe groaned. He dreaded the thought of campaigning to keep his job. It was one of the quirks in Maryland’s judicial system. Judges were appointed by the governor to an initial term, but to keep their seat on the bench, they had to stand for election. He didn’t even want to think about the hassles involved in that. He just wanted to do his job. It was demanding enough all on its own.

Wyatt was right. Eleanor Barrington Holmes was a force to be reckoned with in the community, and he knew she’d helped raise funds for a number of candidates in the past. She could be a tremendous help to him, if she hadn’t grown too eccentric of late.

“Come on. Lunch with a woman,” Wyatt said. “How hard is that?”

Ashe gave in. “All right. I’ll talk to her one more time.”

That was how he ended up, on a break from court one day, meeting Lilah Ryan at a little restaurant called Malone’s around the corner from the courthouse. He knew almost everyone in the place. They came from the courthouse, because the place was so close, the service was fast and the food wasn’t bad.

It was filled with men and women in conservative dark suits, briefcases on the floor beside them, yellow legal pads in front of them as they talked and jotted down notes, cell phones at the ready. Courthouse people. Lawyers and secretaries. A few clients here and there—he could pick them out by the worried looks on their faces. Most people got a little freaked out when they had to go to court.

And there in the midst of all those somber-colored suits was a single blaze of color. Lilah in a soft, silky, flame-colored sleeveless top and a billowy skirt shot through with the same color and lots of others, red to orange to bright yellow. She had sandals on her feet. Her toes were painted the same color as her top, Ashe noted.

Every man in the place was watching her, he realized. Heads kept turning away from legal briefs and legal pads, colleagues and clients, toward her and back again. Clearly, Ashe should have picked another spot for lunch.

Lilah looked up, spotted Ashe, then lifted a hand with flame-colored fingernails and waved. About a half-dozen multi-colored bracelets jangled on her wrist.

He could feel the heads turn from her over to him, see the double takes.

Judge Ashford and the hippie lady?

He made his way to her, stopping along the way to acknowledge friends and colleagues who greeted him with slight smiles, respectful nods of their heads and things like, “Afternoon, Judge.”

People respected him here.

He liked that.

He planned to keep it that way.

Ashe got to Lilah’s table. She stood and held out her hand, bracelets jangling, and he shook it briefly, waited for her to sit, then sat himself.

“Thank you for taking the time to talk to me,” she said. “I wasn’t sure you would, but Eleanor insisted no one but you would do for my classes.”

He was at a loss. “I can’t imagine why. I hardly know her, except for introductions at a charity event here and there. I’m just Wyatt’s friend. He’s Kathleen’s grandson-in-law. He said you might remember him from when you two were children.”

Lilah nodded. “Wyatt the wild man? I think he tried to look up my skirt one day on the playground at school when I was six or seven. Or maybe he was the one who dared his friends to do it.”

“That sounds like Wyatt,” Ashe agreed.

“Is he really married to Kathleen’s granddaughter?”

“Yes.”

“Happily? I’m so curious about her, but I haven’t met her yet. Kathleen said she’s written a book—financial advice for women—that’s coming out soon, and she’s busy getting ready to leave on a book tour. But the idea of the Wyatt I knew being happily married …”

“Well …” Ashe shrugged. What could he say? He had a hard time believing it, too, and he wasn’t the only one. He finally settled for saying, “They haven’t been married long.”

“Hmm. Kathleen and Gladdy believe he’s the perfect husband. I would think Eleanor knows better, living in this town as long as she has. But she doesn’t say anything when they start talking about how wonderful Wyatt is. I’m starting to worry about all of them. That they might be … you know, not quite all there mentally. Which is such a shame. They seem so nice. A little pushy, a little nosy, but nice.”

No arguments with that assessment from Ashe.

“I know Wyatt worries about them. And watches over them quite closely,” Ashe added, thinking maybe that would be enough to warn this woman off, if she had any thoughts of taking advantage of some nice, not-quite-there-mentally older women.

“Good,” Lilah agreed. “I think someone needs to be watching out for them.”

Okay, she was either sincere or she was playing him.

He really couldn’t tell, despite what he’d always considered to be really good instincts and people-reading skills.

The waitress arrived. Ashe knew what he wanted and asked if Lilah did as well, telling her they should really go ahead and order, because he didn’t have that long before he had to be back in court. She glanced at the menu for all of fifteen seconds and settled on the soup and sandwich special of the day.

The woman got points for being able to make up her mind quickly. So many couldn’t, he had found. And she got points for being … not so outrageous today. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as much of a chore as he feared.

Then the waitress came back and said, “I almost forgot, ma’am. I asked the manager. He said it’s fine to put one of your posters in the window.”

She pulled a small poster from her stack of menus and handed it back to Lilah, who smiled and said, “Thank you so much.”

Ashe caught a glimpse of the floaty, see-through veil her naked model had been wearing and couldn’t believe it. The naked lady on a poster? One that Lilah wanted displayed at the restaurant? Surely the manager hadn’t actually taken the time to look at it before agreeing to that.

“You can’t put that up here,” Ashe told her.

Lilah gave him an odd look. “You heard the waitress. She just said I can.”

“A photograph of a naked woman on a poster is not going to work in this town. In fact, I’m sure we have some sort of ordinance against it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with this photograph,” Lilah insisted. “Why don’t we let people judge for themselves?” She started to pull a small poster from the envelope she had with her.

“Don’t do that,” Ashe said, reaching for her. “Not now. Not here.”

“Just because you have a problem with a little nudity, Judge, doesn’t mean everyone else here does,” she claimed just a little too loudly.

Somehow in their minor tussle, the envelope tore, they both lost their hold on it, and her posters ended up all over the floor, a dozen or so of them, face-up, of course, for everyone to see.

Ashe winced and looked away.

Conversation around them stopped.

People turned and stared, started whispering. There were a few chuckles.

“Does anyone have a problem with this image being displayed here in town?” Lilah asked, holding one up for her audience to see.

Ashe heard mostly male voices, amused and offering no opposition. That was odd. When he turned back to Lilah, she looked quite pleased with herself. She leaned over to pick up her posters, but a number of men nearby had already jumped on that particular task for her, including one of the young waiters, who blushed as he handed them to her.

“Is that you in the picture?” he said, the poor kid’s voice cracking and moving up an octave or so.

“No, it’s not her,” Ashe said, loudly enough for the whole restaurant to hear, because he really didn’t need everyone thinking he was having lunch with the naked lady.

Murmurs of disappointment followed from the men in the room. A few speculated about the truth of what Ashe had said, and more than one man said something about wanting to be introduced to the woman who actually was in the photograph.

Lilah thanked her young admirer, then grinned mischievously at Ashe as she set her stack of posters on the table in front of him for him to see. “She might have been naked when I took her photo, but she doesn’t look it in the photograph. I’m not an idiot. I do know what I’m doing.”

Still skeptical, Ashe looked down at the poster, an advertisement for her Divorce Recovery Classes, and there was the naked woman. Except, well … not quite so naked.

There was the woman Ashe had seen, but shot through the gauzy haze of the wedding veil. Everything was a little fuzzy, so that she looked like a woman running away in a big, billowing wedding veil, but her body was no more than a shadowy impression.

Beautiful, provocative, but still tasteful, he conceded, and certainly that was the intent—to be just provocative enough to catch one’s attention and hold it. It was advertising, after all.

Ashe had misjudged Lilah badly, something a man in his profession should definitely not do. Although, honestly, he’d bet she took some devious bit of pleasure in trying to lead him to misjudge her in just this way. The flash of fire in her eyes when he finally looked up at her, that teasing, satisfied smile, told him just that.

“Are you like this with everyone you meet?” he asked. “Or is it just me?”

“I’ve recently made a vow to enjoy life to the fullest. I didn’t for too long,” she said. “Besides, most people are much too serious, don’t you think?”

“It’s a serious world. Serious issues, serious problems. Mine is, at least,” Ashe told her.

“Maybe a little too serious.”

“Divorce is a serious topic,” he argued. “It’s really hard for people.”

“I know. I want to help them. Truly, I do,” she claimed. “If you believe nothing else about me, please believe that. I take helping people very seriously.”

“So, tell me what it is you do at these classes of yours,” Ashe said, deciding she deserved a chance to be heard. Plus, he’d promised Wyatt to find out if she was up to something with Wyatt’s wacky relatives.

“Eleanor said you’re in family law. Or that you were, and now you hear cases in family court,” she began.

“Yes.”

“Divorces?”

He nodded. “Plus custody issues both between parents and social services, some probate stuff, guardianship issues for people who are older or incapacitated in some way, that sort of thing.”

“Have you seen how some people, while they might have been divorced for a while or just separated for a long time, are still emotionally so entangled in their marriages?”

“Yes.”

“To the point of it being highly detrimental to their lives? Clouding their judgment? Keeping them locked into place, unable to move on emotionally or just let go?”

“Yes,” he agreed.

He could tell stories that he thought would keep anyone, even the most hopeless, foolish, absolutely blind romantics and optimists, from ever getting married. In fact, he thought if he could videotape some divorce and custody proceedings in his courtroom, he could splice real-life scenes together into a documentary that had the power to end marriage, once and for all, in America, possibly even globally.

“I want to fix that,” Lilah said, as she eased back in her seat to make room for the plates of food their waitress was placing in front of them. “Divorced people who can’t let go and move on.”

“That’s all?” He dug into his lunch, deciding she was either supremely confident or hopelessly naive. He thought about telling her his idea for simply ending marriage altogether, which would end the need for helping anyone get over divorce, emotionally or otherwise.

“It’s important work,” she insisted.

“Yes, it is. I’m just not sure if it’s at all possible.”

“Well, I intend to try.”

She was naive, Ashe feared, perhaps idealistic and completely unrealistic. He felt sorry for her and experienced some small need to try to save her from herself.

“I don’t think that’s a job for one person, all by herself.”

“Then help me.”

“I don’t think it’s a job for two people, either. Way too big for that.”

She sighed, sounding disappointed. “Gandhi said, ‘Be the change you want to see in the world.’”

Ashe blinked at her. She’d quoted Gandhi to him? “I wonder if he was ever married.”

“He was. To the same woman for sixty years,” she claimed.

“Sixty years? Truly?”

“He was young when they married,” Lilah said.

“Must have been.”

“Okay, he was like … thirteen, and she was, too, or maybe a year older. It was an arranged marriage—”

Ashe laughed out loud, truly enjoying that little fact.

“Which has nothing to do with anything—”

“You’re the one who brought Gandhi into this,” he reminded her.

“Because I admire the sentiment. Imagine what a better world this would be if we all found a problem, a cause we felt passionate about, and went to work fixing it?”

Good grief.

Had Ashe ever been this naive? He didn’t think so.

Lilah sighed, clearly disappointed with him. “Please, just think about helping me. I promise I won’t tease you anymore about naked women.”

Which should have been a plus, he supposed.

“I don’t think it’s ever a bad thing to try to help people who truly need it,” she pleaded. “Watch those people coming through your courtroom and think about whether you believe they need some help letting go, moving on. That’s all I’m asking.”

He frowned. “You’ll be holding these … classes at the Barrington estate?”

Lilah nodded. “It’s perfect.”

“I thought she’d turned it into a wedding venue?”

“That’s what makes it perfect,” Lilah claimed. “All that excitement, the anticipation, the happiness. It’s like it’s in the air there, plus all the physical preparations to turn it into someone’s fantasy of the perfect wedding. We get caught up in the fantasy, the dream, and then reality sets in, and … Well, you know all this. You must see it every day. The fantasy doesn’t last.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“I want to use all that energy, all those feelings, the memories. Too often, we try to run away from those feelings or to bury them so deeply we never feel them, and that doesn’t work, either. The women coming to my classes won’t be able to. Wedding preparations or the dismantling of the wedding fantasies will be all around them there.”

“You want to deliberately stir them up?” He saw it now.

Lilah nodded. “Not to be unkind. Just to make it impossible to hide from those emotions. We have to deal with our feelings before we can move on from them.”

“So, that’s why you’re at Eleanor’s?” He couldn’t argue the sense in that.

“It seemed perfect, once I thought about it. And she’s been so kind. She’s a good friend of my mother’s and a distant cousin of some sort.”

“And you’re living there?”

“For now. I didn’t intend to, but I don’t know much about the town or where I’d really like to live. She offered, and there’s so much room there. I’m not a freeloader, if that’s what you’re thinking—”

“I didn’t say anything like that,” he protested.

“But you were thinking it. I’m going to see how things go for me here. If I like it and decide to stay, I’ll find my own place. For now, I’m staying in a little room off the kitchen, the maid’s room. It’s quiet and out of the way and all I really need.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insulting.”

“She’s lonely, I think, even with her friends and the weddings. Apparently her godson and his wife and son were living in the guesthouse for a while, but they bought a house and just finished the renovations on it and moved. So now it’s just Eleanor.”

“Well, I’m sure she’s happy not to be alone all the time,” Ashe conceded, then looked down at his watch. He had motions to read before court resumed. “So, that’s all you need from me? To perform some sort of divorce ceremony?”

“Well, if it’s not too much trouble, there are often people in the group who have questions about the divorce process. They aren’t looking for legal advice, but an explanation of how the process works.”

“Okay. I could do that,” he agreed.

“And—last thing, I promise—inevitably, I’ll run into a few women whose husbands or ex-husbands are abusive—”

“Yeah, you don’t want any part of a situation like that.”

“Well, no one does, but it happens, and some of these women will come to me for help.”

“Lilah, I see this all the time, and the thing is, a very few of these situations will end very badly, and even I can’t predict which ones will. But when it happens, it’s really bad, really dangerous.”

“I know. I’ve worked with battered women before. And I know, some cops are better at handling these kinds of situations than others. Some take them much more seriously. I just want a name, that’s all. One cop who’ll take the situation seriously, and as a judge, I bet you know who the good ones are.”

“Yes, I do.”

“But you don’t want to tell me who they are?”

“No, I think you need a keeper. I don’t want to do anything to help you put yourself in the middle of domestic violence situations.”

“A keeper? Really?” She looked both amused and mad. “A big, strong man who knows so much better than I do? One I should let make decisions for me?”

“That’s not what I said,” he told her, although … yeah, he thought it was probably true.

Not because she was a woman, but because she seemed to think she was invincible, ready to charge into even dangerous situations and fix them. Someone should be telling her not to do that, that she was bound to be hurt eventually.

Of course, she obviously didn’t want him or anyone else to do that, and she seemed to enjoy provoking him in all sorts of ways.

And it wasn’t entirely unpleasant, having her try to provoke him.

“Look,” she said finally, “the divorce ceremony doesn’t come until the very end of my series of classes, which means the first one won’t be for two and a half months or so. You don’t have to make up your mind yet. Just think about it.”

“All right. I’ll think about it,” he said.

Chapter Three

Ashe was wrapping things up for the day in his chambers when Wyatt knocked on his open door. Ashe motioned for him to come on inside.

“Did you really have lunch with a naked woman at Malone’s today?” Wyatt asked, looking completely baffled.

Ashe winced. “No, I did not have lunch with a naked woman at Malone’s. I had lunch with Lilah, who was fully clothed.”

“Oh.” Wyatt sounded disappointed, then shrugged at the look Ashe shot his way. “Sorry, it was one of the best rumors I’ve heard in months.”

“Well, it probably has to do with the photograph she took to advertise her divorce classes at Eleanor’s estate. I’m sure the posters are all over town by now, if I know Lilah. She wouldn’t have wasted any time.”

“Oh. Okay.” Wyatt frowned but let it go. “So, about Lilah? Do you think I should be worried?”

“I think if those three little old ladies were related to me in any way, I would always be worried,” Ashe said.

“True. Pity me, please, and help me. Should I be worried about Lilah?”

“Probably. I mean, I don’t think she’s a swindler or anything like that. But she likes to shake things up, at the very least. Enjoys it, even.”

“Which Eleanor and company will love, if I know them. Are you going to do this class with Lilah?” Wyatt asked. “Please tell me you are, because if you do, you’ll know what she’s up to.”

Which was a great excuse to help Lilah. He could do it for Wyatt. If only Ashe could convince himself that’s why he’d be doing it. He thought about how she’d looked today, how vibrant and … interesting.

The woman was nothing if not interesting.

How long had it been since he’d met someone he found truly interesting? Who challenged him the way she did?

“The woman quoted Gandhi to me. ‘Be the change you want to see in the world.’ What a beautiful world it would be if we all made an effort to try to fix just one problem. She actually said that to me,” Ashe added.

Wyatt reminded him, “You try to fix things.”

“I do damage control. We all do. You know that.”

“Bad day, Judge?”

Ashe nodded.

“Well, do you think Lilah could help people going through divorce?” Wyatt tried finally.

“I don’t know. God knows, somebody needs to. There are way too many screwed-up people in the world.”

“Look, I’m not asking for a lifelong commitment here. Just do one of Lilah’s little classes.”

“One class. And you’ll owe me big-time.”

Lilah put her posters up all over town, immensely pleased with how well they’d turned out. And—if she was completely honest with herself—how uncomfortable they’d made Judge Ashford.

She got back to the Barrington estate at sunset and found Eleanor, Kathleen and Gladdy just finishing dinner and moving on to coffee and dessert, which they invited her to share. She agreed, having found the trio of women to be delightful, interesting company, although a bit secretive. She always felt as if they were up to something they wouldn’t talk about.

“Were you pleased with your little advertisements, dear?” Eleanor asked, as they all dug into delicious fruit tarts with fresh cream.

“I was, but I’d love to hear what you all think,” Lilah said, pulling out the last poster, which she’d kept for herself, and holding it up for them all to see.

“Oh, perfect,” Eleanor said.

“Absolutely.”

“And eye-catching,” Gladdy observed. “I hope no one gave you any trouble about them.”

“Well, the judge had his reservations, before he’d even seen them. But once he actually looked, he admitted there was nothing blatantly offensive about them.”

“Offensive? It’s a perfectly beautiful image,” Eleanor insisted.

“I thought so, too,” Lilah agreed.

“An absolute shame that such a young, good-looking man would be such a prude—” Gladdy began.

“Gladdy, we don’t know that. Not at all.”

“It certainly seems that way. Someone needs to loosen the man up a bit,” Gladdy said.

Lilah tried to hold back a giggle as she thought of how appealing that sounded. Loosening up the judge. Toying with him was one thing. Teasing him, of course. But to truly loosen the man up would require some effort, some action, which she should not undertake. She’d been bad enough the first time they’d met, and she’d had her fun with him over the posters. But she was ready to try to be good.

“Is he going to help you with your classes, dear?” Eleanor asked.

“He’s going to think about it.”

“Well, I’m sure you can persuade him,” Eleanor said. “The women in our family know how to get what we want.”

Her smile told Lilah that Eleanor was thinking of more than a woman getting a little help from a man with a divorce ceremony. Apparently all three ladies enjoyed men of every age, body type, personality type, ethnicity and any other attribute Lilah could think of. It had been eye-opening and surprising to hear about their exploits with various men over the years.

Which had left Lilah feeling as if she’d led a very sheltered life. She hadn’t admired from afar as many of the men as she should have up to this point, much less actually done the kind of things one didn’t do from afar with such men.

Which had her thinking of the judge.

Lilah certainly found it easy to admire so many of his attributes, both physical and otherwise, and she preferred not to do that from afar. Not with him.

“Kathleen, what did Wyatt tell us about the judge?” Eleanor asked. “Single? Married? Divorced?”

“Divorced, Wyatt said. Apparently, they were very young, and the marriage ended years ago.”

“Hmm. I was just thinking, if he still had some hard feelings over his own divorce, that might explain why he seems reluctant to help Lilah,” Eleanor said. “Any children?”

“No, none. Wyatt seemed to think he was quite sought-after among the ladies.”

“I’d certainly chase him, if I was twenty years younger,” Gladdy claimed.

“Twenty?” Kathleen just looked at her.

“It’s quite the thing these days, isn’t it? The … more mature woman and the younger man?”

Lilah laughed as softly as she could, covering her mouth with her linen napkin, but it was no use. The sound got out, and Eleanor and Kathleen joined her, then finally Gladdy.

“A woman should never be too old to appreciate a good-looking man,” Gladdy said.

“Amen to that,” Eleanor agreed.

“How old do you think he is?” Gladdy asked.

“Late thirties, I’m thinking,” Kathleen said. “He’s so distinguished.”

“No, mid-thirties. I believe he tries to look and act older than he is, given the job he holds,” Eleanor claimed.

“Oh, the joys of a younger man,” Gladdy said.

Which set them all to giggling again.

“Things just don’t work the way they used to, once a man gets some age on him,” Gladdy confided to Lilah. “Such a pity.”

“Gladdy, stop,” Kathleen pleaded.

“I’m just saying, there are distinct advantages to younger men,” Gladdy said. “You should remember that, dear, should you find yourself interested in anyone. So many women go for older men, I suppose for their money or power. But I’ve always preferred the younger ones. You don’t usually have performance problems with the young ones. I wouldn’t think the judge would have any problems at all in that regard.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lilah promised. “Although right now, the last thing I want or need is a man.”

The estate was scheduled to host an elegant wedding that weekend, and on Thursday evening, Lilah watched as various people came and went, seeing what the house was like as it was prepared for an event.

As the sun went down and the workers setting up chairs, tables and various equipment finally left, she went for a run, and after a quick, cool shower, she put on a comfy pair of pajamas, thankful that the house had quieted down around her.

In the walk-in cooler, she found an opened bottle of pinot noir, left over from a wine tasting with a bride and groom earlier in the week, and poured herself a glass.

She was on her second glass when she glimpsed the headlights of a car illuminating the driveway to the house. Eleanor, coming back from dinner in town, most likely. She thought she heard someone tap softly on the side door. Then, before she could answer it, the door opened, and in walked the judge.

Lilah groaned inwardly and glanced down at her attire.

Cropped pajama pants with a drawstring waist, a little spaghetti-strap top that didn’t quite come down as far on her waist as the pants, no bra, no makeup, hair still damp from the shower, two big glasses of wine inside of her.

Then there was the judge, looking all serious and judicial on her, with his perfect, dark suit, a crisp white shirt, dark tie and those lovely, classic dark looks of his. Dark hair, dark eyes, a bit of color to his face that suggested he spent some time in the sun regularly.

“Judge,” she said finally. “What a surprise.”

He gave her an odd, assessing look. He was holding what looked like a gift-wrapped wedding present, which he placed on the big island in the middle of the kitchen.

“Eleanor said that the side door would be open, that it was fine to just walk in. I was supposed to be at the wedding this weekend, but something came up at the last minute. She didn’t tell you I was coming?”

“No, but it’s been a hectic afternoon. Lots of people coming and going, getting ready for the wedding.” Did he think she’d be here, in her pajamas, if she’d known he was dropping by? “I thought you were Eleanor coming back from dinner.”

He shook his head. “I just need to drop off a wedding gift.”

“For the daughter of the state assemblyman? You’re friends?”

“Yes. We … uh … used to date,” he admitted.

“Oh.” That was interesting. “No hard feelings, I hope?” Lilah asked.

“She’s a beautiful, intelligent woman. I hope she’ll be very happy.”

“Sorry you’re going to miss the wedding. I’m sure it’s going to be lovely,” she said.

He stood there, hands in his pockets, studying her in the dim light. Nerves got to her once more, and she took a last sip of her wine. He watched her do that, then shifted his gaze to the nearly empty bottle she’d left on the countertop.

“Are you all right?” he asked finally.

“I didn’t empty the bottle myself, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s from a tasting earlier this week, left behind after a half-dozen people sampled it. I’ll admit to having a little bit of a buzz, though. Two glasses, and it went straight to my head. I should have just gone to bed.”

And then, oddly, she wished she hadn’t said the word bed.

Although it was true, she should have been there, safe in her bed, instead of here, alone with him this way, feeling vulnerable and sad and underdressed.

“Lilah, I can’t begin to figure you out,” he said.

“I know.” And he really didn’t like that. She could tell by the way he said it.

“And I can figure almost everyone out. I have to. It’s a very important part of my job. And I’m good at my job. Why can’t I figure you out?”

She laughed just a bit. “I’m not sure I understand myself that well, which is not a good thing. I’m not sure I’m … fully formed the way a woman my age should be….”

Oops. There she went again. Fully formed? Really, Lilah.

“See, right there. I can’t tell if you’re deliberately trying to be provocative or not.”

“No. Not this time,” she said. “I admit, I have … baited you in the past, and I’m sorry for that. I mean … I know I should be—”

“But you’re not sorry—”

“No. You just seem so … uptight.” There, she blurted it out.

“I’m not,” he argued. “I just happen to hold a very public position in the community, and there are things expected of me and my behavior.”

“Of course.”

“And you, from what I’ve seen, are a woman who prides herself on being as outrageous as possible—”

“No. Really, I don’t. I just … I want to be me, and not some buttoned-up, repressed version of me to please someone else.”

“I am not repressed,” he said with a bit of heat, clearly enunciating each word.

“No, I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about … someone else. Someone who did that to me. Or … no, I did that to myself, because it was my choice, and now, I choose not to do that anymore. I choose to be me, and I’m not changing for anyone. I promised myself that.”

He leaned back and studied her once more, shaking his head back and forth.

“I’ll try to be good from now on, I promise,” she tried.

“And there you go again. What are you doing?”

“Trying to apologize, to say I’ll stop baiting you.” She laughed a bit, couldn’t help it. Something about this man …

“You’re enjoying this!” He took a step closer, which actually put him a bit too close for comfort. “That’s what I keep thinking, that you know exactly what you’re doing. I think you like to play with people, shake things up, push people out of their comfort zone, shock them a bit.”

“Well, yes—the shake things up, push people out of their comfort zone part is true. People come to me because they’re uncomfortable with their lives. They want to change, and to bring about change, you have to shake things up. As a therapist—”

“I’m not talking about you as a therapist,” he said, taking one more step forward, until he was absolutely looming over her, crowding her, trapping her between the kitchen cabinets and his big, powerful body.

“Oh,” she said softly, when he was so close she could smell the scent he was wearing, something dark and spicy and very, very sexy. She could have stood there, happily, taking in that scent and feeling little waves of heat coming off his body for a long, long time. “You mean me …”

“As a woman, Lilah,” he said quietly, and his already deep voice got a little deeper and a whole lot sexier.

She gave a little shiver that was part pleasure and part … okay, no. All pleasure. Nothing but.

But toying with him?

Was she really?

She thought about it. She liked him, or liked poking at that very serious side of his to see if there was another side, a more fun side.

Was that toying?

Was it … too intrusive? Kind of mean? Annoying?

He wasn’t a patient, a student or even a friend. An acquaintance at best.

“Is it really so bad?” she asked him.

He growled, looking even more irritated with her. “Okay, just tell me. Is this some kind of come-on? Are you trying to start something?”

“No,” she said, honestly surprised and puzzled at that. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” he repeated. “I don’t know if I can be any clearer about the question. Are you trying to let me know you’re interested in me and to find out if I’m interested in you? Because, if that’s what it is, just say so. It might be … interesting.”

“Interesting?” She wasn’t sure at all how to take that. Strange? Amusing? Distracting? What?

“No, I’m certain it would be interesting,” he decided. “I’m just not sure it would be wise—”

“Fine,” she said. So it would not be smart to have anything like that to do with her? Gosh, he might have some fun. However would he handle that? “I’m fairly certain it’s not a come-on—”

“Fairly certain?” he repeated again.

“I…I …I had to think about it,” she said, practically tripping over her own words with nerves and maybe a hint of excitement, even anticipation. Damn. “I might have to think about it a little more before I’m absolutely sure. But you put me on the spot, and I did my best to give you an answer. I’m fairly certain I’m not coming on to you or trying to start something with you because … Well, just because … You’re really not my type … anymore.”

“Fine,” he said, as if it wasn’t fine at all. And then he leaned in closely enough that, for a moment, his mouth was only a breath away from hers, and said, “Let me make myself absolutely clear. I’m not a toy. Stop playing with me.”

“Well, if you insist,” she said, feeling something she could only label as regret. Over no longer playing with the judge? She looked him up and down, taking in the near scowl on his handsome, tanned face, the beautifully put together body, the sense of leashed power that seemed embedded in him at all times.

Maybe she had been coming on to him, like an unconscious reflex or something … Some need to try out her newfound freedom or just … feel like a woman again.

“See, right there,” he said, not backing up an inch. “You’re doing it again. Teasing, trying to provoke me.”

“No, I’m not. If I was truly trying to provoke you, I’d tell you that the little old ladies who live here spent their afternoon teatime telling me that someone needed to loosen you up—”

He groaned.

“And I’m pretty sure they think the person to do that should be me, though I have no idea why. Maybe they think it would be amusing to watch me toy with you—”

“Lilah, I swear, if you don’t—”

“And if I really wanted to mess with your head a little bit, I’d tell you that Gladdy spent the afternoon telling me about the … frustrations of dating a man of a certain age—”

“What could that possibly have to do with me?” he asked.

“That they have certain … performance issues …”

He looked both angry and a little bit horrified.

“You’re telling me that you and an eighty-something-year-old woman have been speculating about what I can or can not do all on my own in the bedroom?”

“Not me,” she insisted. “Gladdy. It was all her.”

“Unbelievable,” he said, still right up in her face, so angry, so very handsome.

He was breathing hard, his breath warm with a hint of mint as it fanned over her face, her mouth. His body was also so warm, and it had been so long since she’d been this close to a man, one she truly found attractive, even if he was maddening.

Part of her just wanted to cuddle up against him and enjoy all the warmth, the strength and solid bulk of a man. She was swaying toward him, she feared, and maybe … just maybe, he was swaying toward her, as if there was some kind of invisible force field between them, drawing them together.

She wasn’t sure if he was the one who moved closer or if she was, but she caught her breath at the contact, at how deliciously sexual it felt and how much she found herself wanting him in that moment.

He felt it, too.

She knew he did.

No hiding from it.

He either got a little turned on, arguing with a woman, or he wanted her … Okay, more than a little bit turned on, from that momentary brush of his body against hers.

Because he was most definitely aroused.

Gladdy was right, no pharmaceutical help necessary.

Lilah had been staring at the pattern of his tie, avoiding his gaze at all cost, but she finally gave in and looked him in the eye.

“Well, now you know. Satisfied?” he growled at her as he eased away.

No, not nearly.

But for once, she managed to hold her tongue, as he turned and walked away.

Chapter Four

Ashe had a terrible case to handle on an emergency basis that Friday and Saturday, wrapping it up late that afternoon, and he had instructions to report to his boss, the administrative judge, on the outcome, as soon as the case was finished. As luck would have it, that judge was at a certain wedding that weekend, where his second wife’s niece was getting married.

A place where the most outrageous woman Ashe had ever met—no, the two most outrageous women, if he included Gladdy—also happened to be, making it the absolute last place Ashe wanted to be, except for the room at the hospital where he’d heard his latest case.

The reception sounded as if it was in full swing, as Ashe entered through the side door that led to the kitchen, where he’d found Lilah in her pajamas two nights ago.

He was relieved to see that she wasn’t there today.

The catering staff was clearing plates and cleaning up as he walked through the kitchen and followed the noise to the expansive stone patio where a number of guests still remained, drinking, eating and dancing.

“Judge, I thought you wouldn’t be able to join us today,” Eleanor said as she approached him.

“I’m not,” he said. “I just need to talk to Judge Walters for a moment. Court business. Do you know where he is?”

“I’ll find him. Why don’t you wait for him in the study? It’s nice and quiet there. I’ll take you.”

“Thank you,” he said, following her down the hall, down another one and then into a blessedly quiet private room.

“You look tired. And I imagine you’ve had a difficult couple of days,” Eleanor said. “Judge Walters and I are old friends. I believe I know the case he handed you.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not supposed to talk about it,” Ashe said.

“Of course not. Have you eaten? We have plenty of food. I’d be happy to send someone with a dinner plate for you,” she offered.

“I’m fine, Eleanor, thank you. I’m just going to talk to the judge and go home.”

“Well, I’ll send him right away.”

Lilah forced herself to watch the wedding and reception. She’d also stayed away from the wine, so her head was perfectly clear when Eleanor asked her to deliver a dinner tray to the study.

“Of course.” Then Lilah wondered why a server wasn’t handling this particular job. “Eleanor, who’s in the study?”

“A tired, hungry man who’s just finished a very difficult job. Be nice to him,” she instructed.

“I will, but why am I doing this?”

“Because when the man he’s with right now leaves, he’ll be all alone, and you’ll be able to apologize in private.”

“I can’t do it,” Lilah cried. She’d confessed some of what she’d said and done with the judge the night before to a delighted Eleanor that morning. “I can’t face him.”

“You can, and you will. He’s a judge, darling. He’s heard everything.”

“But I’m not one of his court cases. He’s not required to be fair, reasonable or impartial to me.”

“Lilah, dear, I told you, he’s tired, hungry and in need of a little comfort at the moment—”

“Comfort? What exactly do you mean, comfort?”

“I’m not asking you to walk in there and take your clothes off. Just be nice to the man. He had a bad day.”

“But I don’t think he finds anything about me comforting,” she said.

“Well, do your best, dear. It’s fine and good to challenge a man, to throw him off balance a bit, but sometimes a man needs a sympathetic ear and a soft touch.”

“Now, see … touching him is definitely not a good idea.”

“I’ve seldom found that putting one’s hands on a handsome man is a bad idea,” Eleanor claimed, as they got to the study door. “Don’t be a coward, dear. Tell the man you’re sorry, give him his dinner and let him tell you about his day. This silly misunderstanding will be forgotten in a moment. And reassure him that Gladdy’s not here. I sent her home with Kathleen.”

There was a plus. No Gladdy. Still …

“I didn’t tell you everything,” Lilah admitted. “He made it clear that he wants me to leave him alone.”

Eleanor dismissed that notion with a wave of her hand. “He’s a man. A very handsome man, and you’re a lovely woman. I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

“He said it wouldn’t be wise to get involved with me,” she added.

Eleanor laughed. “My dear, surely you don’t believe men are always wise in their involvements with women.”

“He was absolutely clear,” Lilah said, trying again. “He said, ‘I am not a toy. Stop playing with me.’”

“Then stop playing,” Eleanor said.

Stop playing?

Lilah fell silent.

That was Eleanor’s advice?

She would have protested even more, but she heard the doorknob to the study turning. Eleanor looked positively triumphant for a moment, then hurried away. Which left Lilah just outside the door as it opened, and out came an elderly gentleman, who’d been in the midst of congratulating the judge on a difficult job done well.

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