“Married! You don’t seriously intend for me to marry you?”

Manda focused her gaze on Hunter. “You are so damn sure that once we announce our engagement, my secret admirer will make his move and you’ll be able to catch him?” She pulled away from his arms. “By all means, let’s follow through with this idiotic plan. Let’s put both our lives in danger. Let’s show everyone in Dearborn that we’re fools in love, and to hell with the consequences.”

Hunter grabbed her, cupping her chin as he stared into her eyes. “I don’t think we’ll have any trouble convincing everyone that we can’t keep our hands off each other. Just pretend you feel about me now the way you did when you were sixteen.”

Manda’s face flushed. “And what are you going to pretend?”

“I’m a man, baby doll. With a woman who looks like you, I won’t have to pretend.”

Dear Reader,

This is officially “Get Caught Reading” month, so why not get caught reading one—or all!—of this month’s Intimate Moments books? We’ve got six you won’t be able to resist.

In Whitelaw’s Wedding, Beverly Barton continues her popular miniseries THE PROTECTORS. Where does the Dundee Security Agency come up with such great guys—and where can I find one in real life? A YEAR OF LOVING DANGEROUSLY is almost over, but not before you read about Cinderella’s Secret Agent, from Ingrid Weaver. Then come back next month, when Sharon Sala wraps things up in her signature compelling style.

Carla Cassidy offers a Man on a Mission, part of THE DELANEY HEIRS, her newest miniseries. Candace Irvin once again demonstrates her deft way with a military romance with In Close Quarters, while Claire King returns with a Renegade with a Badge who you won’t be able to pass up. Finally, join Nina Bruhns for Warrior’s Bride, a romance with a distinctly Native American feel.

And, of course, come back next month as the excitement continues in Intimate Moments, home of your favorite authors and the best in romantic reading.

Leslie J. Wainger

Executive Senior Editor

Whitelaw’s Wedding
Beverly Barton

BEVERLY BARTON

has been in love with romance since her grandfather gave her an illustrated book of Beauty and the Beast. An avid reader since childhood, Beverly wrote her first book at the age of nine. After marriage to her own “hero” and the births of her daughter and son, Beverly chose to be a full-time homemaker, aka wife, mother, friend and volunteer. The author of over thirty-five books, Beverly is a member of Romance Writers of America and helped found the Heart of Dixie chapter in Alabama. She has won numerous awards and made the Waldenbooks and USA Today bestseller lists.

To my fellow Heart of Dixie RWA chapter members,

past and present, for the camaraderie, encouragement

and support, but especially for all the good times

we’ve shared over the years.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Epilogue

Prologue

M anda Munroe inspected her curves in the mirror. The woman she saw reflected there was one others referred to as beautiful. She supposed she was pretty, just as she was rich and pampered. At least that was what everyone told her. Her father, older brother and grandmother doted on her. And she loved them, too, which was why she would never tell them that all their smothering attention could never fill the void, never replace the gigantic hole created in her life by her mother’s absence. Most of the time she didn’t feel sorry for herself for being the only kid in her circle of friends who didn’t have a mother. But for crying out loud, she had just turned sixteen and what she needed most was someone no one in her life could truly replace. A mother. Someone she could turn to for advice on being a woman. Grams was wonderful, but she was sixty and hardly up-to-date on the things today’s teenage girls needed to know.

Manda pivoted slowly in front of the cherry cheval mirror in her bedroom. Grams wouldn’t approve of the bikini she was wearing, even though some of her friends wore skimpier ones. But if she was ever going to make Hunter Whitelaw notice that she was no longer a little girl, she had to do something drastic. She’d decided letting him see her in next to nothing would open his eyes to the fact that she was all grown up. Now, maybe he’d stop thinking of her as nothing more than Perry’s little sister. She’d had a crush on Hunter for as long as she could remember, since the first time Perry brought him to the house, about six years ago when the guys played high school football together. Of course, back then, she really had been just a kid. But even at ten, she’d somehow known that Hunter was the one and only boy on earth for her. And since that time, with each passing year, she had become more and more certain that he was destined to be the love of her life.

Now, all she had to do was convince him of that fact. And parading around in front of him in her bikini was a great way to start. She didn’t have much time to accomplish her goal. Hunter was home in Dearborn for only two weeks, then he’d go back to the army.

Manda grabbed her waist-length hair, pulled it through a rubber band and secured it in a ponytail. She opened her bedroom door, peeked out into the hall for any sign of Grams, then rushed toward the back stairs. As she passed through the laundry room, she grabbed a huge white towel, then flew out the door and onto the patio. Seeing Hunter lying on one of the chaise longues by the pool, she skidded to a halt. He was all alone. Manda squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and sauntered in his direction. She probably had less than twenty minutes to make an impression on Hunter. Daddy was at work, Grams should be taking her afternoon nap and their housekeeper, Bobbie Rue, was enjoying her day off at her sister’s house across town.

Manda had timed her arrival at the pool to coincide with Perry’s trip to the store to pick up a couple of six-packs. He’d huffed about in the pantry, complaining that he couldn’t understand where the hell the four six-packs he’d put in there this past weekend had gone. She’d hidden the beer under the sink in the kitchen, knowing her brother wouldn’t spend a lazy summer afternoon without his favorite drink. Yuck. Manda had tried the nasty stuff and couldn’t imagine anyone drinking such foul-tasting poison.

Hunter was stretched out to his full six-four height, his big, muscular arms thrown back and his hands resting above his head. He wore only a pair of loose black swim trunks, leaving most of his body bare. As she approached, she took inventory, scanning him from head to toe. Thick, dark brown hair, neatly trimmed. Sunglasses hooded his eyes, which she knew were a light blue-gray. Broad shoulders and wide chest, trim waist and hips. And long, long legs. Big hands. Big feet. And every inch of his flesh was tanned a golden brown. Curly dark hair covered his chest, as well as dusted his arms and legs.

Now, that’s a man!

Manda paraded around in front of Hunter, who didn’t seem to notice her. She cleared her throat. He eased the sunglasses down his nose and peered at her over the rim.

“Hi, there,” she said, then tossed her towel on the chaise beside his, pulled back her shoulders and thrust forward her breasts, which were covered only by two triangles of shiny red material.

Hunter grunted and slid his shades back into place.

What was the matter with him? Manda wondered. Couldn’t he see that she was a gorgeous young woman? Everybody said so. All the guys her age drooled over her.

“Where’s Perry?” she asked.

“He went to pick up some beer for us,” Hunter replied, but didn’t glance her way.

“Mind if I join you?”

He shrugged. “This is your house, your patio and your pool.”

“So it is.”

Doing her best to act alluring, Manda lay down on the chaise next to Hunter’s and turned her head so that she faced him. She reached out, picked up the bottle of suntan lotion on the small table between them and flipped open the lid. After pouring a quarter-size amount of the white cream into the palm of her hand, she applied it to her arms, then repeated the process on her legs. She’d seen this seduction scene in a movie, so she figured it was worth a try.

“Do you mind doing my back?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“My back. Would you put some lotion on it for me? I can’t reach my back and with this fair skin of mine, I burn easily.”

Hunter barely suppressed the chuckle rising in his throat. Manda, Manda. What was he going to do with her? Perry had told him a couple of years ago that his little sister had a mad crush on her big brother’s best friend. At the time, he’d thought it was cute and rather endearing. But for the past few days, while he’d been home on leave, Manda had been driving him crazy. She had done everything but strip off naked to gain his attention. And from the looks of that skimpy bikini she was wearing, she must have decided to use that tactic, as well. If Mrs. Munroe saw Manda in that scanty swimsuit, she would ground her granddaughter until she was thirty.

He had to admit that if he didn’t know Manda was only sixteen—and if she weren’t his buddy Perry’s baby sister—he’d be tempted. Manda was just too damn pretty for her own good. Pretty? Hell, she was beautiful. And she knew it.

The girl was too pretty, too rich, too smart and too spoiled. He pitied the poor guy who wound up marrying her someday. She was growing up to be a high-maintenance lady.

“Sure, I’ll do your back,” Hunter said and took the bottle from her. “Turn around.”

She obeyed instantly, but then she did the unexpected. She unhooked her bikini top, jerked it off and laid it on the chaise. Hunter hadn’t been prepared for that particular move, but he supposed he should have been, considering the way Manda had been chasing him these past few days.

“That’ll make it easier,” she said.

Easier for what? Damn, this kid didn’t know she was playing with fire. His guess was that she didn’t understand how easily a guy could become sexually aroused. If she pulled this kind of stunt with another guy, she might get more than she bargained for. “Manda, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“A lady doesn’t strip off her clothes that way and expose herself,” Hunter said. “Your grams would be—”

“Grams is an old-fashioned prude who doesn’t know the first thing about being a modern woman. It’s been so long since she was young and in love that she’s probably forgotten how it feels.”

In love? Damn! He definitely wasn’t prepared to handle that kind of complication. Even if Manda were older, there were too many things that separated them on every level imaginable. She was and always would be off limits to him.

“Damn it, Manda, put your top back on and act like a grown-up instead of a stupid kid.”

“A stupid kid!”

She whirled around, anger flashing in her eyes, but before he could look away, he got an eyeful. God help him, the sight of her was enough to bring a strong man to his knees. Her breasts were large, firm and centered with pouting pink nipples.

Hunter jumped up, grabbed the red bikini top off the chaise and tossed it at Manda. “For heaven’s sake, brat, put that on. Now!”

She ignored his command, flung the top on the patio floor and shot out of the chaise. “I’m not a stupid kid. I’m a grown woman. Damn it, will you look at me? Can’t you see that I’m more than just Perry’s little sister?”

Hunter tried his level best to keep his gaze focused on her face, but that wasn’t an easy task. Not with her sweet, luscious body almost totally bare. He snatched the towel off the chaise and started to wrap it around her, but with another unexpected move, she flung herself at him and clung to him tenaciously. The towel slipped off and down to the floor. Her naked breasts pressed against his chest.

Hunter grabbed her shoulders, pulled her away from him and shook her soundly.

“What the hell’s going on?” Perry Munroe stood at the back door, a beer in each hand.

Manda whirled around, gasped when she saw her brother, then glanced over her shoulder and glared malevolently at Hunter. “Your best friend here was putting the moves on me.”

“Perry—”

“Damn it, Manda, put on some clothes, will you,” Perry said. “And leave Hunter alone.”

“You don’t believe me?” Manda asked in a wounded, little-girl voice.

Perry walked onto the patio, handed Hunter a beer, set the other on the table, then picked up the towel off the floor and wrapped it around Manda, crossing it over her breasts. “Get upstairs and put on a decent bathing suit before Grams sees you. And for the rest of Hunter’s stay with us, will you, please, leave him the hell alone?”

“You might not believe me, but we’ll see what Grams and Daddy have to say.” Manda scurried toward the house.

“Don’t you dare repeat such a stupid accusation,” Perry called after her, then turned to Hunter when Manda disappeared inside the house. “Sorry about that. She’s spoiled rotten. We usually give her anything she wants and unfortunately the one thing she wants the most right now is you.”

“She scares the hell out of me,” Hunter admitted. “Manda’s a stick of dynamite that’s just about ready to go off. Y’all had better tighten the reins on that girl.”

Perry laughed. “And think, she’s only sixteen. Can you imagine what we’ll have to deal with by the time she’s eighteen? Heaven help us.”

Hunter shook his head and laughed. “Heaven help the guy who marries her.”

Chapter 1

P erry Munroe found his sister pacing the floor in Dearborn Memorial Hospital’s ER waiting room. When she’d phoned him half an hour ago, she had been nearly hysterical. She’d kept repeating the same words. It’s happened again! The Manda Munroe Curse. The best he could make out from their brief conversation was that her date had taken ill during dinner and she had rushed him to the hospital. Of all things to have happened to Manda, why this? She hadn’t dated anyone in such a long time. Not since her fiancé Mike Farrar’s death.

Perry had hoped that the nightmare she’d lived through in the past was over, that she could actually live a normal life, find a man to love, marry and have children. He knew that was what his sister wanted more than anything. He’d thought perhaps her colleague, Dr. Boyd Gipson, who worked with her at the clinic where she was a grief counselor, might turn out to be Mr. Right. But somehow, by a trick of fate, Boyd had fallen victim to the Manda Munroe Curse, the phrase an insensitive reporter for the local newspaper had coined five years ago when Mike Farrar’s body had been found a week after his mysterious disappearance. At that time, the reporter had unearthed the tragic story of Manda’s past and the death of her first fiancé when she’d been twenty-one.

The moment Manda saw him, she halted her frantic pacing and ran toward him. He opened his arms and embraced her. She trembled as she clung to him.

“Oh, Perry, it’s happened again. Boyd and I were having dessert and coffee, when he suddenly became very ill. I don’t know how it’s possible, how anyone could have done it, but I know someone tried to kill him.”

Perry grasped Manda’s shoulders. “What does the ER doctor say?”

“He said it was food poisoning, but I know better.” Manda glared at Perry, her eyes wild with fear. “I thought…I hoped and prayed that I could at least have a nice, comfortable friendship with a man, without—without—” She took in huge gulps of air. “We’ve had only three dates. Nothing serious. Just companionship. But then that’s all there was between Mike and me. A marriage of two good friends, both who had lost a loved one in the past and… He won’t let me have anyone else in my life, will he? Not even a friend.”

Perry’s stomach knotted painfully. “Look, brat, I honestly don’t think that lunatic who might or might not have been responsible for Mike’s death had anything to do with this. It’s just a coincidence. It has to be. People get food poisoning fairly often. And you haven’t gotten any notes predicting Boyd’s demise, have you?”

She shook her head. “No, but… I’ll have to tell Boyd that I can’t see him again. Not socially. I can’t take the risk. If anything happened to him, I’d never forgive myself.”

“What do you plan to do, live the rest of your life like a nun? You deserve better. You’re allowing some lunatic to dictate the terms of your life.”

“Two men that I’ve cared for have died tragically,” Manda said. “First Rodney and then Mike.” She cupped her hands over her mouth and sighed in an effort to not cry again. “Someone killed them because he’s obsessed with me and doesn’t want me to marry anyone else. Whoever killed Rodney and Mike is probably still watching me, waiting for me to… I refuse to endanger another man’s life. Not ever again!”

Perry knew that when she got like this there was no point in trying to reason with her. He felt certain that Boyd’s food poisoning had been an accident, but Manda was bound and determined to blame herself. Poor girl. The woman standing before him bore little resemblance to the carefree, spoiled little hellion she’d once been. Rodney Austin’s death in a car crash only a week before their wedding had devastated Manda. That had been twelve years ago. It had taken Manda years to get over that loss, but eventually she had become engaged to her good friend, Mike Farrar, who had lost his wife to cancer. When they became engaged, Manda had received a series of letters warning her to not marry Mike, that if she did, he would die, just as Rodney had. They had taken the letters to the police, but the local law enforcement had been unable to trace the letters to find the author. Only days before the wedding, Mike had disappeared. His body had been found in the Poloma River. He’d been shot in the back. His murderer was never found.

For the past five years, Manda hadn’t dated. It had taken him months to convince his sister to accept Boyd’s pleas for a date.

Had he been wrong to encourage her to put the past to rest and move on with her life?

The letter arrived a week later. Manda had stopped by Perry’s law office in downtown Dearborn and tossed the nondescript white envelope on his desk.

“Read it,” she’d said.

The author of the printed missive had assured Manda that he was not responsible for Boyd’s illness. But he had pointed out that even Fate didn’t want Manda with another man. He had ended his letter with a warning.

You know that I’ll never let you be happy with anyone else. If you ever try to marry another man, I’ll kill him. And if you’re foolish enough to allow it to happen again, I might have to kill you, too.

The letter was similar in tone and wording to the six letters that Manda had received in the weeks leading up to her wedding to Mike. A second wedding that never took place.

Perry had insisted Manda take the letter to the police, just as they’d done in the past. He had gone with her, of course, and as he had expected, the local authorities reluctantly admitted that there was little chance of apprehending the culprit, with nothing but the letters as evidence.

Damn it all, he wasn’t going to allow his sister to crawl into a hole and pull the hole in after her. She was young— only thirty-three—and beautiful, with so much love and passion to give the right man. But out there somewhere was a nutcase determined to control Manda’s love life. There had to be a way to put an end to this craziness. He should have done something years ago, after Mike’s death. But he’d known Manda needed time to heal and he had allowed the years to slip by without forming a plan of action.

What Manda needed was a fiancé capable of not only outwitting a would-be assassin, but one able to protect her, too. Perry grinned. He knew just the man. He’d call him tonight. And tomorrow he’d tell Manda that she was going to marry the man of her dreams—her teenage dreams.

Hunter Whitelaw propped his feet up on the rustic log coffee table, eased his weary shoulders into the back of the overstuffed sofa and groaned. He and his fellow Dundee agent Matt O’Brien had just completed a month-long assignment and agents Jack Parker and David Wolfe had also recently finished with a difficult job. Hunter and Matt’s case had taken a toll on them and had dredged up some unpleasant memories for Hunter personally. An American billionaire had given his eighteen-year-old twins a trip to Europe as a high school graduation gift, but he’d wanted the two girls, Risa and Rhea, protected day and night. On the surface, it had seemed to be a plum assignment—a month in Europe, all expenses paid. At least that was what Matt had thought. Hunter could have warned them, but figured he would find out soon enough just how much trouble two cute little girls could be. Hunter had learned that lesson years ago.

The smell of frying fish wafted through the cabin. Jack Parker was cooking supper for them. Frying fish and hush puppies. Hunter closed his eyes and sighed. He could almost taste the delicious catfish they’d caught in the river this morning. He and Jack had persuaded Wolfe to go with them and the guy had turned out to be quite a fisherman. Apparently, Wolfe was good at whatever he did. But the man was too damn quiet, too reclusive. Hunter had actually been surprised that he’d accepted his offer to join them on their weekend trip.

Jack liked to fish as well as Hunter did. The gregarious Texan was a fellow who seemed to love just being alive. He was the exact opposite of Wolfe, a somber, solitary man, who seemed to carry the woes of the world on his shoulders. And then there was Matt, their movie-star-handsome buddy who had women swooning at his feet wherever they went. Hell, Risa and Rhea had been all over Matt, and the former Air Force Cowboy had been out of his league with the two nymphets. It had taken both of them working diligently to stay one step ahead of the twins and at the same time keep the girls out of their beds. If they’d been smart, they would have suggested Ellen, Dundee’s CEO, take this job herself and enlist several female Dundee agents to help her.

Hunter chuckled. He hadn’t been propositioned by a teenage girl since he’d been twenty-two and Perry Munroe’s little sister had given him an eyeful that summer he’d been home in Dearborn on leave from the army. Her outraged grandmother, who had believed Manda’s tale that Hunter had come on to her, had forbidden Hunter to set foot in the Munroe house ever again. Of course, Mr. Munroe and Perry had known the truth and assured Hunter he was always welcome.

“Supper’s ready,” Jack called from the kitchen. “Come and get it while it’s hot.”

After opening the front door, Hunter repeated Jack’s invitation to Wolfe, who had escaped outside over an hour earlier. Then he walked halfway up the stairs to holler at Matt. Hunter waited for Wolfe to enter from the front porch and for Matt to emerge from the upstairs bedroom, where he’d been playing games on his laptop computer. Once the two men joined him in the living room, he followed them straight to the kitchen table. They all laughed when they saw Jack in a large floral apron, apparently left there by the last people who’d rented the cabin.

“Hey, don’t laugh at my stylish attire.” Jack plopped lightly breaded and browned catfish on each of the four plates. “You guys would starve if it wasn’t for my culinary talents.”

“Don’t think you’re indispensable,” Matt said. “There’s a steak house less than ten miles from here.”

The four men gathered around the wooden table in the kitchen and quickly delved into the catfish meal. Three of them ate, talked and laughed. Wolfe just ate. Hunter couldn’t figure the guy out, couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was about the man that bothered him. He had to be an okay kind of guy or he wouldn’t be working for the Dundee agency. Sam Dundee, the agency’s owner, had personally hired Wolfe. And no one was hired without a thorough background check. But Wolfe’s former life was a mystery—to everyone at the agency, even the CEO, who usually did the hiring.

“So, are y’all interested in watching the Braves on TV tonight?” Matt asked.

“I thought we had satellite TV here,” Jack said. “I wouldn’t mind checking out the Playboy channel.”

“Is that all you ever think about?” Hunter smiled. “If you don’t slow down, Jackie boy, you’re going to burn out before you’re forty.”

“That gives me two more years to burn the candle at both ends.” Jack downed the last drops of coffee from the earthenware mug, then got up to pour himself another cup. “Anybody else want more coffee?”

“Only if you baked us an apple pie for dessert,” Matt said.

The good-natured comradery between Hunter, Matt and Jack continued throughout the evening as they shared a couple of six-packs. Wolfe watched part of the Braves game with them, then excused himself to take a long walk. He returned after dark, said good-night and went upstairs to the bedroom he shared with Matt.

“What do you think it is?” Matt asked.

“Huh?” Jack stared quizzically at his buddy.

Matt nodded toward the stairs. “Wolfe. What do you think his story is? Why is he such a mystery man?”

“Who knows?” Jack shrugged.

“Whatever’s going on with him, past or present, is none of our business,” Hunter told them. “The guy obviously has some demons chasing him, but if he wanted us to know, he’d tell us.”

“What about you Whitelaw—you got any demons on your tail?” Matt asked.

Hunter chuckled. “Sure. We all do, don’t we? But it’s not something any of us talk about, so why should Wolfe?”

Jack stood, stretched and then glanced at his companions. “I think I’m going to go take a dip in the river. I sort of have a date to meet up with the gals staying in the cabin down the road. Either of you want to join us?”

“How many gals did you meet?” Matt asked.

“Two,” Jack replied. “A brunette and a redhead.”

“I’ll go.” Matt stood. “You don’t mind, do you, Hunter? I know you have a thing for blondes, so—”

Motioning a get-out-of-here wave, Hunter said, “Go on. I think I’ll grab another beer and then read for a while.”

He did just as he’d said. Got himself another beer, kicked back on the sofa and opened Tom Clancy’s latest bestseller. But for some reason, he couldn’t concentrate. The words on the page seemed to blur together. Hell, maybe he needed to have his eyesight checked. He was nearly forty. Bifocals were probably a part of his immediate future.

Forty in six months. Where had all the years gone? And just what did he have to show for his life? One marriage gone bad, ending in divorce ten years ago. No children. Not even a damn dog to call his own. However, he did have a job he liked and a fat bank account, and that wasn’t bad for a poor Georgia boy who’d grown up on his grandparents’ farm. From the age of sixteen when he’d first become friends with fellow Dearborn High football player Perry Munroe, Hunter had known that someday he wanted to be part of the privileged world in which the Munroes lived. A fine house on North Pine Street. A sleek sports car. Entree to the country club and the best homes in Georgia. But most of all he wanted a woman from that world, a lady who possessed a pedigree back to Adam.

Eventually, he had acquired everything he’d ever wanted. As a member of the top secret Delta Force, he had lived a life of excitement and danger. With some shrewd investments, he had acquired enough money to buy that big house and the sports car. And he had married Selina Lewis, a Virginia debutante. His wife had been a spoiled heiress to whom marriage vows meant nothing. Her affair with one of his Delta Force comrades had ended their three years of trying to make their mismatched union work. In the end, he had admitted to himself that no amount of education, money or polishing could completely erase the redneck Georgia boy from his personality.

The phone rang. Hunter eyed the source of the insistent ringing, wondering who would be calling any of them during their weekend getaway. No one from the agency would dare disturb them, not after Jack had given boss-lady Ellen fair warning that they weren’t to be disturbed.

In no hurry, Hunter rose languidly from the sofa and made his way across the room to the wall telephone near the staircase. He lifted the receiver and said, “Whitelaw, here. This had damn well better be important.”

“Hunter, this is Perry Munroe. And this is damn important.”

“Perry, how did you know where to find me?”

“I contacted the Dundee agency and told them it was a family emergency.”

“I don’t have any family left since Granny’s death two years ago, so it must be your family emergency and not mine.”

“Look, old buddy, I have a huge favor to ask of you.”

“Name it.” Although he and Perry hadn’t seen each other in a couple of years, Hunter still considered the man one of his best friends. And if for no other reason than the good times they’d shared in the past, he would always be there for Perry, if and when his old pal ever needed him.

“I have a job offer for you,” Perry said. “A bodyguard job.”

“You need a bodyguard?”

“Not me.”

“Your wife?”

“No, not Gwen.”

“Then who?”

“Manda.”

“You want to hire me as Manda’s bodyguard?”

“Sort of,” Perry said. “Actually, there’s more to the job than just acting as her bodyguard.”

“Exactly what do you want me to do?” Hunter asked.

“I want you to marry my sister.”

Chapter 2

M anda had no choice but to attend tonight’s gala celebration. After all, how would it look to Dearborn society if she didn’t show up for her sister-in-law’s birthday party? Throughout high school and college, she had loved parties and had given her share of them. But that had been years ago. Before Rodney died. Before Mike was murdered. She could barely remember the person she’d been before tragedy had struck her life. Everything had been fun once. Lighthearted enjoyment. Boyfriends and parties and laughter. Manda realized that she would have been forced to grow up, sooner or later, and take on adult responsibilities. She had thought those duties would include being a wife and a mother. But the fulfillment of those long-ago dreams was as out of reach for her as grasping a distant star and holding it in the palm of her hand. As unlikely to come true as her teenage fantasy of Hunter Whitelaw loving her the way she had loved him.

“The birthday girl is beaming, isn’t she?” Chris Austin came up beside Manda and slipped his arm around her waist. “Just looking at her, no one would believe she’s forty.”

Manda smiled at Chris, Rodney’s younger brother, with whom she had tried to remain friends for Rodney’s mother’s sake. Chris was Claire Austin’s only child now, and she doted on him, despite the fact that he disappointed her on a regular basis. Although physically similar to Rodney, with the same golden hair, hazel eyes and lanky build, Chris didn’t possess the brilliance or charm that had been such an integral part of his older brother. She supposed having grown up in the shadow of an overachiever had given Chris an excuse to do absolutely nothing with his life.

“Gwen is lovely,” Manda agreed. “And she doesn’t look a day over thirty.”

“Living the good life doesn’t put wrinkles on a face, does it?”

When Chris pulled Manda closer to his side, she glared at him. Chris had been making passes at her for years, and for years, she’d been giving him the brush-off. After all this time, it had almost become a game with them. He advanced; she retreated.

“What say we ditch this boring society gig and head over to the Blues Club for some real fun,” Chris said.

Manda disengaged herself from his annoying hold. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Not tonight. Not ever. Go find yourself another playmate, while I go speak to my sister-in-law and wish her a happy birthday.”

With a little-boy pout on his face, Chris released her. “How long are you going to fight it, honey? You know Mother would love to see us get together.”

Manda laughed. “Claire would think I’d lost my mind if I even gave you the time of day. Your mother knows, better than anyone, what a womanizing rascal you are.”

“If you’d be mine, I’d—”

Grady Alder, who was Perry’s law partner, came up behind Chris, clamped his hand down on Chris’s shoulder and said, “Austin, why the hell don’t you leave Manda alone? She’s been telling you no for ten years, hasn’t she?”

Chris tensed and frowned, but when he glanced over his shoulder at Grady, he grinned broadly. “It seems I have several years on you, then, don’t I, Grady? She’s only been turning you down for how long now? Three or four years?”

Grady instantly released his hold on Chris and glowered at the younger man. “I think I heard your mother calling you. You’d better see what she wants or she might tighten the purse strings, and then where would you be?”

Chris smirked at Grady, then smiled at Manda. “I don’t blame you for refusing to date this jerk.”

“Will you two stop,” Manda said. “There are dozens of other women here for both of you to pester, so why don’t you leave me alone?”

“How does it feel, Alder, being lumped together with me?” Chris asked, a devilish twinkle in his eyes. “Both of us rejected suitors.”

Manda wished both men would go away and leave her alone. She tolerated Chris for Claire’s sake, because she adored Rodney’s mother. And although she genuinely like Grady, she had just about reached her limit of tolerance with him, too. The man had been persistently pursuing her since his divorce several years ago.

“Sorry, Manda, sugar.” Grady epitomized the old-fashioned Southern gentleman, and she knew Grams would approve of him as a husband for her. He’s our kind, Grams had once told her.

In her peripheral vision, Manda caught a glimpse of Dr. Boyd Gipson heading in her direction. Another suitable beau. Great, she thought, that’s all she needed—one more man vying for her attention. After Boyd’s bout with food poisoning, she had politely refused to see him socially, but he, too, had difficulty accepting her refusals. He had called her almost every day. Please, Lord, help me escape, Manda prayed silently. But with the wall at her back, flanked closely on each side by Grady and Chris, and with Boyd closing in on her, she was trapped.

“Manda, honey, you look gorgeous tonight,” Boyd said as he joined her other two admirers. “Would you care to dance?”

“Hey, I was here first,” Chris said like the spoiled child he was, despite the fact he was thirty-two years old.

“Austin, I believe Manda had already told you to get lost, hadn’t she?” Grady said.

“Remember, that request was for you as well as me,” Chris reminded his rival.

Manda put her hands on her hips, huffed and glanced from one man to another, taking in all three. “If I promise a dance to each of you, will y’all stop making spectacles of yourselves and of me?”

“Sorry, sugar,” Grady said again.

“Honey, I apologize if I’ve embarrassed you,” Boyd said.

“So, who’s going to get you first?” Chris asked.

She wanted to scream, Leave me alone! These men were fools. Didn’t they understand that she was a dangerous woman? Any man who cared for her risked his life in doing so. Her affection was as deadly as that of a black widow spider’s.

Hunter entered the house where he’d spent some happy days as a teenager. The last time he’d been in this house was eleven years ago, for a wedding reception, when Perry had married Gwen Richman and he had served as Perry’s best man. And that had been the last time he’d seen Manda, who had been one of Gwen’s bridesmaids. Although she’d been breathtakingly beautiful, he’d sensed the sadness in Perry’s little sister and had known taking part in the wedding had been difficult for her. It had been a little over a year since she had lost her fiancé in a car crash, only days before their wedding.

Making his way through the laughing, chatting congregation of Dearborn’s elite, Hunter searched the crowd for Perry, but the person who caught his eye was Perry’s sister. Manda stood across the room from him, a strained smile on her face as three men formed a crescent around her, all of them talking at the same time and directing their conversation at her. Some things never changed. Now, as in the past, Manda Munroe was surrounded by admirers, each hoping she would grant him the privilege of a dance, a date or any small crumbs of attention. Who could blame these poor fools? Manda was more beautiful now than she’d ever been. So beautiful that she could easily take a man’s breath away.

However, Hunter noticed that she did nothing to accentuate that beauty. The exact opposite was true. She wore her long blond hair restrained in a neat bun at the nape of her neck, had applied only a minimum of makeup and dressed conservatively in a simple black sheath. But looks like hers couldn’t be disguised. She possessed a to-die-for body and a face like an angel. Just looking at her was enough to give any man a hard-on.

And this was the woman Perry wanted him to marry!

Perry had given him a brief rundown of the problem, telling him that he’d fill him in on the details once he arrived in Dearborn. But the gist of the situation was that Manda was convinced that any man she became emotionally involved with was destined to die. Apparently her bevy of suitors was either unaware of the danger or each was so enamored that he didn’t care.

As he came nearer, he realized that the men were actually arguing over who was going to dance with Manda first. God help them. Didn’t they know a damn thing about this woman? He hadn’t seen her in eleven years, but he figured some things about Manda hadn’t changed since she’d been the bane of his existence when she was a kid. With a strong-willed, stubborn woman like Manda, you didn’t beg. She respected strength and decisiveness…and always wanted what she couldn’t have.

He dove through the partygoers like Moses parting the Red Sea, and headed straight for the most popular woman at Gwen Munroe’s birthday party.

Manda saw him, then blinked her eyes and looked again. She hadn’t been imagining it. It was him. Hunter Whitelaw. Big, bold and towering over the other men in the room from his six-foot-four height. His shoulders were so broad, his arms so huge that she assumed the tuxedo he wore had been tailor-made for him. Except for a few lines around his eyes and mouth and just a hint of gray in his military-short hair, he had changed very little in the past eleven years. He was now, as he’d been then, totally, absolutely, devastatingly male.

She’d had the most gosh-awful crush on him when she’d been a teenager and had thrown herself at him more than once. But he had always rebuffed her—and wisely so, since he’d been a grown man and she only a sixteen-year-old girl. Of course, that last silly prank she’d pulled by the pool had curtailed Hunter’s visits. Like a spoiled child, which she had most certainly been, she had lied to Grams and insisted that Hunter had made sexual advances. Although her father and Perry hadn’t believed her, Grams had. Finally months later she had confessed her lie, but by then the damage had been done and Hunter seldom came to the house after that.

Suddenly she realized that Hunter was coming straight toward her, his gaze riveted to hers. An unbidden and uncontrollable fluttering began in the pit of her stomach, and the closer he came, the wilder the sensations inside her grew. She hadn’t felt this crazy feminine yearning since the last time she’d seen Hunter. His presence always created the same idiotic havoc on her nerves. Even with Rodney, whom she’d loved with all her heart, the sexual stirrings had never been so strong. It was as if she related to Hunter on a purely physical level. Woman to man.

She stood there watching his approach, her gaze remaining locked with his as he cut a path between Grady and Boyd to reach her. Both men stepped back, mouths slightly agape, eyes widened in surprise, as they gazed up at the big man. Chris actually jumped back.

Without even a nod of acknowledgment to the men surrounding her, Hunter reached out, took her hand in his and said, “I believe this is our dance.”

She went with him, moving past her trio of admirers, who grumbled among themselves. Hunter led; she followed. When they joined the other dancers, he took her into his arms and began moving with an amazing agility for a man so huge. He held her close, but not too close, a hairbreadth between their bodies. He didn’t speak, only continued staring into her eyes, as if he thought he would be able to see some profound truth revealed there. Speak, damn it, she told herself. Say something to him. Say, it’s been a long time. Or how about asking him what the hell he’s doing here?

“They can’t help themselves, you know,” Hunter said, no trace of humor in his voice or show of emotion on his face.

“What?”

“Your men.” He nodded toward where the threesome stood on the sideline and watched. “They can’t help being infatuated with you. When a woman looks the way you do, men can’t resist.”

When she stiffened in his arms, he eased her just a little closer, enough so that her breasts brushed his chest. “You certainly never had any trouble resisting me, did you?”

That’s it, Manda, dredge up the past. Remind him of what a scandalous little hussy you were at sixteen. Remind him of why he felt unwelcome in this house for so many years.

“That’s what you think,” Hunter replied, a grin lifting the corners of his mouth.

Manda gasped. “You certainly could have fooled me. You acted like I was poison.”

“Baby doll, you were poison. You were jailbait.”

She quivered when his large, hard hand spread out across her back, his fingertips resting against the base of her spine. “I didn’t stay sixteen forever. If you’d been interested, you could have made your move when I turned eighteen.”

“I could have,” he said. “But by then you had dozens of guys buzzing around you, ones far more suitable for you than I was. You and I both know that your grams wouldn’t have approved of me. Besides, I’ve never liked the idea of being part of a male harem.”

“A male harem?” Manda laughed. “This from a guy who can snap his fingers and have any woman he wants.”

Hunter grinned. “You overestimate my charm. I’m just a good ole boy who does his best to remember the gentlemanly manners his grandparents taught him.”

Enough idle chitchat, Manda thought. Time to get down to the crux of the matter. “What are you doing here tonight?”

“Perry invited me to Gwen’s birthday party.”

“Why accept this particular invitation? He’s been inviting you to family events for the past ten years and you’ve never shown up before tonight.”

“Let’s just say that Perry’s invitation intrigued me.”

“How’s that?” Manda asked.

“He made me a business proposition that I found interesting. He suggested I come to the party and then afterward, we’d talk to the other person involved in the deal and the three of us would come to an agreement.”

“I must say that I’m intrigued now. I can’t imagine what sort of business deal a former army major would have with a small-town lawyer.”

“It’s personal business.”

“Is that so? Mind telling me who the third person is?”

The music ended. Hunter stopped, but continued holding Manda. He looked at her point-blank and said, “You’re the other person.”

“What?”

“I take it that Perry hasn’t discussed his plan with you.”

She shook her head. “No, he hasn’t. But since I’m involved, why don’t you fill me in on the details?” When the people around them began milling about, she realized that she was still in Hunter’s arms. She tried to pull away from him, but he grasped her hand and led her toward the double set of French doors that opened to the backyard.

She didn’t balk when he practically forced her onto the patio. What was it about this man that made her accept his caveman tactics? Just because she had always responded to him sexually, on a purely primitive level, didn’t mean she wanted him to drag her around by her hair.

A dozen or so people meandered about on the patio, most of them smokers who had escaped for a nicotine fix. Hunter led her to the far side of the patio and into the shadows formed by the centuries-old oak tree at the edge of the house. A shiver of apprehension rippled up her spine. Once out of earshot of the others and with their bodies partially hidden in the jutting curve of the house, Hunter settled his hands on her shoulders, his touch gentle. She stared up at him. He was a good foot taller than she and his size alone was intimidating. But on some instinctive level she knew that he would never hurt her.

“Perry filled me in on your decision to never date again.”

“How dare he discuss my personal business— Oh, my God! He called you here to be my protector, didn’t he? I didn’t think he was serious when he said that what I needed was a man who could defend me against the crazy person who killed Rodney and Mike.”

“There was never any proof that Rodney was murdered,” Hunter said. “Perry pointed out that before Rodney died in a car crash, you hadn’t received any threatening letters, the way you did when you became engaged to Mike.”

“What difference does that make? Both of the men I planned to marry met untimely deaths. Because of me.”

Hunter tightened his grasp on her shoulders. “Manda, what happened to you is tragic, but if you stop living…if you give up and give in to this lunatic who’s trying to control your life, then you’re not the feisty, headstrong, determined girl I once knew. Sixteen-year-old Manda Munroe would have spit in the devil’s eye.”

A shudder of remembrance passed through her as she looked at Hunter. “That girl doesn’t exist anymore. She was silly and spoiled and had no idea how unbearably cruel life could be. That Manda Munroe died, slowly and painfully, after being responsible for the deaths of two good men.”

“Damn it, you were not responsible for either of those deaths.” Hunter slid one hand upward to grasp the nape of her neck and the other around to cradle her back. “Perry was right. It’s past time to put an end to this madness. We’re going to bring your monster out into the light of day and drive a stake through his heart.”

Manda gulped in air. “Whatever plan Perry has cooked up, I won’t allow you to risk your life to—”

Hunter leaned over and lowered his head, bringing his mouth to hers. Shocked by his actions, she had no time to respond before he kissed her. Soft and languid in the beginning, but quickly escalating to a full-fledged, tongue-thrusting passionate kiss. Sizzling sensation radiated from the core of her femininity throughout her entire body. She had been kissed many times before, but never like this. This was a teenage girl’s fantasy kiss. An all-consuming, curl-your-toes, Me-Tarzan-You-Jane kiss.

She found herself unable to resist. Passion had become a negative word in her vocabulary. She had willed herself to not succumb to any attraction she’d felt for various men over the past five years, but with Hunter she had no control. She suddenly felt sixteen again and her big brother’s best friend was making her dreams come true.

Hunter ended the long, lingering kiss with tender nips on her bottom lip and a sweet trail made by his moist lips along her neck. She sighed as her body melted into his. Breathless, Manda gazed at him and one word formed on her lips.

“Why?”

He glanced over her shoulder, across the patio and whispered in her ear, “To begin the charade. This was Act One for our audience.”

“What audience?” She turned her head just enough to follow his gaze and saw Chris, Boyd and Grady on the far side of the patio, stunned expressions on their faces.

Damn. Had Hunter kissed her to prove a point to her three overzealous admirers? Was he thumbing his nose at them, showing them that he’d already gotten to first base with the woman they wanted?

Seething with anger, she went rigid in his arms. “I hope you enjoyed this,” she said quietly, her jaw tight. “Because it will be the only time you ever use me to—”

He kissed her again. Nothing more than a silencing maneuver. Then he explained. “Don’t you realize that one of those three could be your letter-writing menace? If we’re going to draw him out into the open and force him to take action, then we will have to convince him that we’re serious about each other.”

“Is that why you kissed me? Just what sort of scheme did you and Perry cook up behind my back?”

“A pretty good scheme,” he replied. “But I think we should wait until Perry has a free minute, so the three of us can discuss this plan together.”

“I agree. Perry had no right to drag you into this mess without my consent.”

“I’m sure he thought that you’d never agree,” Hunter told her. “Some things about you may have changed, Manda, but one thing hasn’t—you’re still as stubborn as a mule.”

“Hunter?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Go to hell!”

She pulled out of his embrace, marched across the patio, glared at the wide-eyed threesome and went into the house. If Hunter Whitelaw thought he was going to play hero for her, then he’d better think again. He might be a tough guy, but he wasn’t invincible. He could be killed just like any ordinary man. He could die because of her. Just as Rodney and Mike had died.

Hunter watched Manda as she nervously tapped her foot on the floor in Perry’s study. Apparently she hadn’t cooled off much in the past hour. She was practically foaming at the mouth.

“You had no right to call Hunter and ask him to pretend to be my new boyfriend!” Manda glared at Perry. “You’re asking him to risk his life and for what? Tell me that—for what?”

“How can you ask me such a question?” Perry slammed his fist down on top of his antique desk. “I’ve stood around and done nothing for the past twelve years, except watch you suffer. I thought that given time after Rodney’s death, you’d find love again, and you did, with Mike. But then when he was murdered, you cut yourself off from men entirely. And just when you ventured back into the dating arena, you let a freak accident—a damn food poisoning incident—determine the rest of your life.”

“It’s my life, isn’t it? I have a right to decide how to live it. And if I choose to spend the rest of my life alone, then—”

“I think there’s something you’re overlooking,” Hunter said.

Settling her gaze on Hunter, she all but snarled at him. “And just what would that be?”

“The fact that no matter what you choose to do, men aren’t going to stop coming on to you.” His lips twitched with an almost smile. “A woman who looks the way you do is always going to have men chasing after her. This nutcase who’s so determined to see that you never marry could eventually start eliminating any man who shows an interest in you.”

“Oh, good Lord. Do you actually think that…” She shook her head as if trying to erase his words from her mind. “Oh, all right. Let me hear the rest of your plan.” She pointed her finger first at Hunter and then at Perry. “But if I don’t agree, then the whole thing is off. Is that understood?”

A response from Manda, but not exactly an agreement. Perry nodded. Hunter grunted. After what Perry had told him, all the details of Manda’s life and the death of her second fiancé, Hunter realized that Manda could never live a normal life until the person behind the threats was exposed and ultimately, stopped.

“I called Hunter not only because he’s an old friend and someone you knew in the past, someone you actually had a teenage crush on, but because of his background.” Perry reached out and clasped Manda’s hands in his. “For a number of years, Hunter was a member of the Delta Force, a special operations military unit. And now he’s an agent for the top security and investigation agency in the country. He’s qualified to not only protect you, but to take care of himself under fire.”

“All right, I agree Hunter is highly qualified,” Manda said. “But that doesn’t tell me exactly what you intend for him to do. Are we supposed to date and see what happens?”

“You’ll date,” Perry said. “Y’all will have a whirlwind courtship. Hunter’s going to sweep you off your feet. You two are going to fall madly in love and within a few weeks, we’ll be putting together the quickest planned and executed wedding in history.”

“Wedding?” Manda’s face paled.

“Hmm—mm.” Perry placed Manda’s hand in Hunter’s. “You two are going to get married.”

“Married!” Manda screamed. “You can’t seriously intend for me to marry him.” She focused her gaze on Hunter. “You’re going to use yourself as bait to catch this guy. I won’t allow you to risk your life for me. Don’t you realize that— Oh, I get it. You’re so damn sure of yourself that you think once we announce our engagement, my secret admirer will make his move and you’ll not only be able protect me and yourself, but you’ll catch him, too.” She pulled away from Hunter and paced around the room. “By all means, let’s follow through with this idiotic plan. Let’s put both of our lives in danger. Let’s show everyone in Dearborn that we’re fools in love, and to hell with the consequences.”

Hunter grabbed her, cupping her chin as he stared into her eyes. “No one outside this room is to know that we’re only pretending. As far as anyone else is concerned—your grandmother, Gwen, Mrs. Austin—this thing between us is real. We’re going to convince everyone that we can’t keep our hands off each other.”

“I’m not sure I’m that good an actress.”

“Just pretend you feel about me now the way you did when you were sixteen and performed your little striptease for me out by the pool.”

Manda’s face flushed as she huffed loudly, “And what are you going to pretend?”

“I’m a man, baby doll. With a woman who looks like you, I won’t have to pretend.”

Chapter 3

B arbara Finch Munroe didn’t bother to knock before she entered her grandson’s study; she swept into the room like the queen she was. Mrs. Munroe had held the title of Dearborn society’s grand dame for the past twenty-five years, and despite the fact she had to be close to eighty, Hunter would lay odds she’d be around to keep her crown for another twenty-five years. There was spirit in her step and determination in her eyes—eyes the exact same shade of blue as Manda’s. She glanced from person to person, her gaze lingering on Hunter. A barely discernable change in her facial expression warned him that she remembered who he was.

“What are y’all doing hiding away in here when it’s time to bring out Gwen’s birthday cake? I was ready to give the caterers the nod when I noticed that you—” she glared at Perry “—were nowhere to be seen. It just so happened that Bobbie Rue saw you and Manda come into the study with a…gentleman.”

“Grams, you remember Hunter Whitelaw, don’t you?” Perry said, a quirky grin on his face.

Always the cordial lady, Mrs. Munroe offered Hunter a pleasant smile and nod. “Mr. Whitelaw, we haven’t seen you in a number of years. Are you in town visiting family?”

“No, ma’am, I’m afraid I don’t have any family left in Dearborn. I drove down from Atlanta for Gwen’s birthday party, and I’m certainly glad that I accepted Perry’s invitation.” Hunter looked point-blank at Manda and grinned like a lovesick fool.

Manda’s cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry you had to come looking for us.” Manda walked over and laced her arm through her grandmother’s. “Hunter and Perry and I were just talking over old times. And Hunter and I were laughing about that silly teenage crush I had on him when I was sixteen. Remember, Grams? I told you and Daddy the most awful fib about Hunter.”

Mrs. Munroe focused her gaze directly on Hunter. She pursed her lips in a disapproving manner.

“Believe me, Mrs. Munroe, if she comes to you with that same story tomorrow, it will be true,” Hunter said, his voice light, his tone humorous.

Manda gasped. “Hunter! Don’t tease Grams.” She tightened her hold on her grandmother and tried to maneuver the old woman toward the open door. “We’d better get back to the party, hadn’t we?” She stared at Perry as she inclined her head toward the door. “Come on. We don’t want to hold up the big production. I’m sure Gwen’s getting anxious about the presentation of her cake.”

Mrs. Munroe held her ground and pinned Hunter with her disapproving glare. “Young man, was that your rather vulgar way of saying that you’re interested in my granddaughter?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hunter said. “And I apologize, if my comment offended you. I’m afraid you’re going to have to get used to seeing me with Manda. I’ve asked her out for tomorrow night and she’s accepted.”

Mrs. Munroe turned her attention to her granddaughter. “Manda, is this true? Do you intend to—”

“Grams, don’t you think it’s wonderful that these two have finally connected?” Perry rushed across the room and took his grandmother’s hand. “I think it was practically love at first sight for both of them tonight.”

“Hardly.” Mrs. Munroe huffed in a delicate, ladylike way. “Manda and Hunter have known each other for years.”

“That was just a figure of speech,” Manda said. “What Perry was trying to say is that after seeing each other again tonight, Hunter and I find that we’re attracted to each other and…and we’re going to go with what we’re feeling and see what happens. Right?” She looked to Hunter for affirmation.

“That’s right. I plan to take some vacation time and stay in Dearborn so Manda and I can become reacquainted.”

“Are you sure that’s wise, my dear?” Mrs. Munroe asked. “After all… Does he know?”

“Yes, he knows,” Perry said.

Mrs. Munroe nodded her head. “Very well. Then I see no harm in their dating.” She grasped Manda’s hand. “It’ll do you good to have a social life again, even if…” She looked right at Hunter. “I’m an old-fashioned woman, Mr. Whitelaw. Anyone who knows me will tell you that I’m a snob, and they’d be right. I’m going to be honest with you—under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t approve of your escorting Manda around, but if you can bring her back to life and make her happy, then you have my blessings.”

“Thank you. I’m sure your approval means a great deal to Manda,” Hunter said, implying that her approval didn’t mean a damn to him. “And I promise that I intend to do everything I can to put a smile on her face.”

Manda’s gaze connected momentarily with Hunter’s and she caught the teasing gleam in his eyes. She just hoped that Grams hadn’t comprehended the sexual connotation of his comment. Before she realized his intentions, Perry whisked Grams away from her and out the door.

Perry called out as he glanced over his shoulder. “You two hurry along. You don’t want to miss the birthday cake.”

Manda started to follow, but Hunter grabbed her arm, detaining her. “Wait up a minute.”

She turned to face him. “What?”

“We should go back into the party together and make sure everyone sees us being…infatuated with each other.”

“Before we begin this charade, I need to know if you’re—”

“I’m sure,” Hunter said. “No one should live the way you’re living. Afraid to care about anyone. Scared to even date a man because you think dating him might put him at risk. Whoever’s out there, determined to keep you alone and miserable, needs to be exposed and dealt with so you can have a life of your choosing, not his.”

“I’m not sure we’re doing the right thing.” Manda took a deep breath. “Two men are already dead because of me. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.”

Hunter gently grasped her chin, cradling it between his thumb and forefinger. “Nothing will happen to me. Or to you. I’m going to protect you and keep us both safe.”

She nodded. More than anything she wanted to believe Hunter Whitelaw. He was so confident, so self-assured. She almost believed that he really could protect himself and her from an unknown enemy.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He draped her arm over his and led her out of the den, but paused momentarily in the hallway. “Go along with whatever I say and whatever I do. And just remember that everything between us is an act, a performance staged to make your secret admirer jealous enough to expose himself.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all anyone can ask of you.”

He led her back to the party. They arrived just in time to sing happy birthday along with the sixty other guests. She made no protest when he kept his arm around her waist, and whenever he nuzzled the side of her face or kissed her temple, she smiled and pretended that she loved Hunter’s ardent attention. While cake was served and Gwen opened her stack of presents, Hunter escorted Manda past her three suitors—Grady, Boyd and Chris— leaving the men without any doubts about his claim on Manda. He had walked in and snatched her right out from under their noses. And it was apparent by the stunned, hurt and even angry expressions on their faces that they couldn’t understand what had happened. Why had the reclusive, reluctant Manda suddenly thrown caution to the wind and succumbed to this big, dark stranger?

“If looks could kill, I’d be a dead man,” Hunter whispered. “I think we should put those three at the top of our suspects list.”

“You’re kidding? Those guys are harmless. They wouldn’t—”

“Never assume anything about anyone. It never pays to trust too easily. Professionally or personally. People are seldom what they seem. And putting your trust in the wrong person is a sure way to get your heart broken.”

“Speaking from personal experience?” she asked.

“Definitely.” He took her in his arms and joined the other couples dancing to the slow, sensual beat of a cool jazz tune.

She found that she liked the feel of his strong arms around her. It had been such a long time since she had allowed a man to hold her, even to simply dance with her. Hunter was so big that she should have felt dwarfed by his size, but somehow she felt protected and comforted. And even cherished. Damn, but he was a good actor.

“So, tell me, who did you trust that wound up breaking your heart?” She gazed into his stormy gray eyes and noted a hint of pain. Someone had hurt him. Maybe his ex-wife had broken his heart.

“I don’t make a habit of talking about my personal life.”

“No fair. If you get to know all the intimate details of my life, then I should at least be allowed to know something about yours.”

He brought her closer until their bodies pressed intimately against each other, then he gazed down at her as if he were going to kiss her. Not here, she thought. Not in front of all these people. That would be taking the act a little too far and a little too fast.

“Do you remember meeting my ex-wife, Selina, at Perry and Gwen’s wedding?” Hunter asked.

“Yes. She was a lovely woman.” Manda remembered that several people at the wedding had mentioned the similarity between Selina Whitelaw and herself. Both blue-eyed blondes, about the same age. And she had later learned that Selina came from the same type of background—a respected, blue-blooded Southern family with old money.

“She was a spoiled, selfish, promiscuous hellcat,” Hunter said, his smile never wavering.

He’d thought the same of her once. At least the spoiled, selfish hellcat part. At sixteen she might have been daring and determined where pursuing Hunter was concerned, but she hadn’t been promiscuous. Actually, she’d still been a virgin. And you still are! No one would believe it. Sometimes she had a hard time explaining to herself how a thirty-three-year-old woman could still be a virgin. As a teenager, she’d been rebellious and self-centered, but had drawn the line at experimenting sexually with any of the guys she dated. She and Rodney had been very much in love, but both had agreed to wait for their wedding night. But that wedding night had never come. And her relationship with Mike hadn’t been sexual. They had been friends, drawn to each other out of mutual admiration and similar interests. They had been affectionate with each other, and had they married, she didn’t doubt that they would have been compatible sexually. But they had never married.

“I take it that Selina was unfaithful to you,” Manda said.

“Mmm… I caught her in bed with one of my friends. Later, I found out that he wasn’t the first.”

“And you’ve never trusted another woman since. If that’s true, then you’re probably as afraid of forming a new relationship as I am.”

“There’s a difference. You want and need a husband and a houseful of kids. Or at least that’s what Perry told me.” He paused, as if waiting for her to deny his statement, which she didn’t. “I, on the other hand, have no desire to remarry. And I date as much as I want to, have as many women in my life as I need.”

“Need being the operative word?” Manda asked. “Need, as in physical need? You’re afraid of an emotional relationship, but you don’t have a problem having physical relationships. Am I right?”

“Are you inquiring for a personal reason?” Hunter nuzzled her neck.

Manda gasped as pure sensation shot through her. “What…what—”

“If you’re wondering if after we get married, I’d be willing to screw you even though we won’t be emotionally involved, then the answer is yes.”

She tensed in his arms, then stopped dead-still. “Grams is right—you can be very vulgar.”

When she tried to pull away from him, he refused to release her. “If you don’t want to dance any longer, then why don’t we go through the buffet line and get some cake? After all, we don’t want anyone thinking that we’re having an argument. Not when we’re supposed to be falling in love.”

Manda resigned herself to accept his smothering attention. Every glance, every hug, every kiss as phony as a three-dollar bill. But necessary, she reminded herself. If they were going to pull off this dangerous charade, she couldn’t allow herself to be affected by anything Hunter said or did. Or by her own unwanted feelings for him. Crazy as it might seem, she found herself as strongly attracted to him now as she’d been at sixteen.

Don’t you dare fall for this guy, she cautioned herself. Caring about Hunter would be dangerous—for him and for you. Even if there was no external danger, no lunatic watching and waiting for her to choose a new mate, she didn’t dare risk losing her heart to Hunter Whitelaw, a man who still saw her as spoiled and selfish, the way his ex-wife had been.

As they made their way to the buffet table, Manda noticed Gwen heading in their direction. The birthday girl herself, all smiles, but with unmistakable curiosity in her eyes. She and Gwen had known each other most of their lives and had at one time been friends. But that was before they’d both fallen in love with Rodney Austin. Manda didn’t think her sister-in-law had ever quite forgiven her for being the one Rodney had loved and wanted. Even though Gwen had married Perry only a year after Rodney’s death, Manda wondered if her sister-in-law had ever truly loved Perry. They seemed to have a stable marriage. Gwen was the ideal wife for an up-and-coming lawyer with political aspirations. And she thought Perry was content, if not genuinely happy. He doted on Gwen, gave her anything her heart desired and had even accepted her decision for them to not adopt a child after she had found out that she couldn’t have a baby of her own.

Before Gwen reached them, Claire Austin stopped Gwen to give her a hug. Hunter urged Manda into the line at the buffet table and as they waited their turn, he kept his arm around her shoulders and occasionally rubbed his hand up and down her arm in a gesture of affection. As Manda picked up a plate holding a piece of birthday cake, prepared by Atlanta’s renowned Chef Maurice Claude, she cast a quick glimpse over her shoulder and saw that Gwen and Claire, talking happily to each other, were heading their way.

Manda tried to hurry Hunter along, but he insisted on acquiring flutes of champagne for them. By the time they had cake and champagne in hand, Gwen closed in on them.

“Manda,” she called, and waved. “There you are. I haven’t had a chance to even say hello.” Moving nearer with each step, Gwen brought Claire with her. “I just had to postpone opening the rest of my gifts so that I could mix and mingle more with my guests.”

Gwen sized up Hunter, her gaze traveling from the top of his head to the tips of his shoes. “Hunter Whitelaw, we haven’t seen you in ages. I’m simply delighted that you’d drive down from Atlanta just for my birthday party.”

“Happy birthday, Gwen,” Hunter said. “You don’t know how glad I am that I accepted Perry’s invitation. Manda and I are getting to know each other all over again, and I must say that I’m finding myself intrigued by your beautiful sister-in-law. So much so that I’m staying over a few days, since I’ve persuaded Manda to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night.”

“How wonderful,” Claire said, a warm smile on her face. She reached out to clasp Manda’s hand. “Sweet girl, I’m so glad to see that you didn’t let that silly incident with Boyd Gipson keep you from accepting this young man’s invitation.”

“Claire, I’d like for you to meet Hunter Whitelaw,” Manda said. “Hunter is an old and dear friend of Perry’s. Hunter, this is Claire Austin. Rodney’s mother.”

“Ma’am.” Hunter nodded

“Hunter was Perry’s best man at our wedding.” Gwen laughed, the sound hollow and brittle. “And he was Manda’s first love, wasn’t he, Manda?” Gwen skewered Manda with her cold black eyes.

“Is that right?” Claire asked, her gaze resting on Hunter.

“She had a teenage crush on me, ma’am,” Hunter explained. “At the time she was a bit too young for me, but now six years difference in our ages doesn’t matter.”

“Of course, it doesn’t.” Claire patted Manda’s arm, then leaned over and whispered to her, “I do so want you to be happy.”

“Thank you.” Manda kissed Claire’s cheek.

“Manda and I were headed out to the patio to find a table. Would you ladies care to join us?” Hunter asked.

Gwen opened her mouth to reply, but Claire spoke first. “Nonsense. You two want to be alone…to talk. Besides, Gwen must spend more time with her guests, mustn’t you, dear.”

Manda took the opportunity Claire had given her to head toward the French doors. Hunter followed her along the escape route, through the open doors and onto the patio. The only empty table was in the garden, on the far side of the swimming pool. She halted immediately.

“Keep going,” Hunter said. “We’ll be out of earshot over there, but we can still put on quite a show for anyone watching us.”

“Do we have something more we need to discuss in private?”

“We have a great deal more to discuss,” he told her. “If we’re going to walk down the aisle in a couple of weeks, we need to plan a whirlwind courtship and get started on it right away.”

“A couple of weeks? You’re kidding. You expect us to get married in two weeks?”

“Keep walking.” He nudged her in the back with his plate. “And two weeks is my limit at playing adoring suitor. If our engagement doesn’t bring out Mr. Lunatic, then we’ll follow through with the wedding. That’s sure to bring him out. He’s not going to allow you to be happily married to another man.”

Manda set her plate and crystal flute on the wrought-iron table, then Hunter did the same. He pulled out a chair and with gentlemanly good manners assisted her. Once seated, she lifted the glass to her lips and sipped the champagne.

Hunter pulled a chair up beside her, so that when he sat, their arms brushed against each other. Quivers fluttered through her body. She hadn’t been this aware of a man in years. This won’t do, she told herself. She couldn’t let her emotions come into play during their game of pretense.

“So, the way I see it, we need to become a constant twosome,” he said. “Dinner tomorrow night. And afterward, you’ll invite me in and I’ll stay for at least an hour.”

“An hour?”

“Just in case Mr. Lunatic is watching your house.”

“Oh.”

“Then day after tomorrow, we’ll start having lunch and dinner together every day and by the end of the week, we’ll be inseparable.”

“I don’t know if I can stand that much of a good thing,” she said sarcastically.

“Force yourself. After all, it’s for your own good.”

“Okay, after we’ve shown the world how nauseatingly in love we are, what do we do next?”

“I move in with you—twenty-four hours a day.”

“No way!”

“Manda, that’s what people do when they fall madly, passionately in love.” Using his fork, Hunter sliced through his piece of cake, lifted the bite and brought it to Manda’s mouth.

When she opened her mouth on a startled gasp, Hunter slid the cake inside and grinned as she glared at him. She chewed and swallowed. “And I assume you know that we won’t be sharing a bed or even a bedroom.”

“We’ll work out the details later. As long as we give the appearance of being lovers, we don’t actually have to be. Unless you’d like—”

“I wouldn’t like,” she told him.

“How do you know you wouldn’t like it unless you try it?”

“I think you have me confused with your ex-wife. I don’t sleep around. I believe that love and sex go together in a relationship and that the best sexual relationships are created as part of the lifelong commitment two people make to each other.”

“Your grandmother did a good job of brainwashing you with her old-fashioned morals, didn’t she?” Hunter chuckled

“I think more and more people these days are seeing the wisdom in waiting until—”

“Okay.” He grabbed her hand, brought it to his mouth and kissed it. “I have no problem waiting until after we’re married. It should make for an interesting wedding night.”

“Hunter Whitelaw, if you think that I’m going to—”

He kissed her, adeptly silencing her tirade. She struggled for just a minute, then ceased her resistance, but refused to participate in the kiss.

When he lifted his head, he grinned and said, “Baby doll, if we’re going to convince people that we’re in love, you’re going to have to put a little more into it. You’re not doing a very good acting job.”

Keeping her voice low and smiling at him as she spoke, she laid her hand on his shoulder and gazed dreamily into his eyes. “If you call me ‘baby doll’ one more time, I’m going to emasculate you. Do I make myself clear?”

Chuckling softly, he caressed her hand that lay on his shoulder.

“I’ve noticed that lovesick fools usually have pet names for their lady loves, so if you don’t like ‘baby doll,’ would you prefer honey or sweetie or sugar or darling or—”

“I don’t think a pet name is necessary. I have no intention of calling you anything other than Hunter.”

He slid his arm around the back of her chair, effectively encompassing her shoulders. “Manda Munroe, you’re still a stubborn, hardheaded brat. You want it all your way or— Hey, that’s it. I’ll call you ‘brat,’ the way Perry and I used to when you were a kid. People will find that endearing and amusing.”

“Brat? Oh, that’s just great.”

“Take your pick—baby doll or brat?”

“Go to hell,” she said through clenched teeth.

“I have a feeling that’s where I’m headed. When I told Perry years ago that I pitied the poor guy who married you, I had no idea that I’d wind up being that guy. Or at least the first guy to marry you. Once we nab Mr. Lunatic and you and I get an annulment, I’m sure it won’t take you long to find a real groom.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” She glanced away, unable to continue meeting his gaze. Had he really told Perry that he pitied the guy who married her? Had he disliked her that much all those years ago? If she’d had even one silly little notion in her mind that Hunter might actually be attracted to her, that he might genuinely care about her, his comment had vanquished that thought. For the next few weeks she was going to have to accomplish a difficult task—pretending to fall madly in love with Hunter, without him ever realizing that he still held the power to affect her sexually and emotionally, more so than anyone she’d ever known.

Chapter 4

M anda was glad this was a Saturday morning and she didn’t have to go to work today. She had slept fitfully last night, waking often between erotic dreams about Hunter Whitelaw and frightening dreams about a faceless killer pursuing them. In retrospect, she wondered if she was out of her mind for agreeing to go along with Perry’s plan to trap her tormentor. What if something went wrong and Hunter was killed? She knew she couldn’t survive another loss. It had taken her years to recover after losing Rodney, but at least when he died, she hadn’t been eaten alive with guilt that his death had been her fault. No one, not even the police, had suspected that his car crash was anything other than an accident. Even now, Perry insisted that all the evidence showed that, after one of his long intern shifts at the hospital, Rodney had been driving too fast when he had probably fallen asleep at the wheel and careered over a steep embankment. More than anything, she wanted to believe that was true.

She would never forget Rodney. A part of her heart would always belong to him. Except for her teenage infatuation with Hunter, Rodney had been her first love. Until they met at the hospital where he’d been an intern when her father had been a chemotherapy patient, she had gone systematically through young men as if they were disposable tissues. From the age of sixteen until she met Rodney, she had dated dozens of guys, but not one of them had been special to her. By the time young Dr. Austin came along, she was accustomed to being the center of attention. And she had to admit that she had loved being pursued by countless lovesick boys. What a silly, foolish girl she’d been.

Falling in love with Rodney had been a good thing for her. Everyone had said so. And her entire family had not only approved her choice, but had adored Rodney as much as his mother had adored her. It had been considered an ideal match. After dating exclusively for eight months, during her senior year of college, Rodney had proposed and their families had combined efforts to plan an elaborate autumn wedding. A wedding that was supposed to be the beginning of a perfect life together.

Although they had come close to giving in to temptation, she and Rodney had stopped their lovemaking time and again before it progressed to the final act. They had agreed that since Manda was a virgin they would wait to consummate their love on their wedding night. An old-fashioned notion for people of their generation, but Rodney had been an old-fashioned kind of guy. She supposed that was one reason Grams had thought the world of him.

Manda had once believed that the day Rodney died was the worst day of her life. She had never known such agony. And it had been a pain that stayed with her, that was even now a part of her. Losing her father six months later, when he finally succumbed to cancer, had only added to her misery. But she hadn’t know what true suffering was until someone killed Mike Farrar, a dear, kind man who had been murdered because he dared to care about her enough to ask her to marry him. Realizing that she had quite possibly been the cause of two men’s deaths had almost destroyed her. If it hadn’t been for Perry and Grams and the support of the other grief counselors at the clinic where she worked, she might have done something stupid. For several weeks after Mike’s murder, she had been so distraught that she’d actually contemplated suicide.

What was it about her, she wondered, that brought death to those she loved? Except for Grams and Perry, she had lost everyone who had ever been important to her. Her mother had died in childbirth, something practically unheard of at the time. And then Hunter had rejected her foolish advances and walked out of her life. He’d been the only man who’d ever broken her heart. And then she had lost Rodney, followed by her father’s death and then finally Mike’s murder. She could not risk ever caring about another person. Others had to be aware of the horrible truth—loving Manda put your life in danger. She supposed on a subconscious level she had steered clear of even close friendships with other women, fearing that the Manda Munroe Curse would strike again.

For the past five years she had kept all of her relationships, with men and women alike, on a strictly casual basis. By doing this, she had held the curse at bay. But now she was planning to tempt fate by announcing to the world that in two weeks she was going to marry Hunter Whitelaw.

Although Perry had insisted that he be their guest at the Munroe home on North Pine Street, Hunter had opted to stay at his grandmother’s old house out on Mulberry Lane. He supposed he should have sold the place after Granny died, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to sell a property that had been in his family for several generations. His grandfather had been born in this old house, and so had his great-grandfather, in the first month of the first year of the twentieth century—January 1, 1900.

When he’d been a young idiot, Hunter had thought that what he wanted more than anything was to get away from the farm, to figure out a way to become a part of the social set to which his good buddy Perry Munroe belonged. As a young man he had been overly impressed with the fine homes on North Pine Street, with the sleek sports cars the rich boys drove and with the snobbish little debutantes who wouldn’t give him the time of day because he was poor. Of course, there was one girl who’d been different. But at the time, Manda had been years too young for him.

Odd that what was so important to a guy when he was twenty wasn’t what mattered to him when he was forty.

In the best of all possible worlds, he would come back home, renovate the old house and either raise cattle or rebuild the once thriving fruit orchard. Maybe he’d do both. And in that fantasy life, there was always a woman and a couple of kids living here on the farm with him. But after his experience with Selina, he hadn’t found a woman he wanted to be his wife. Of course, he hadn’t been looking. Actually, he’d been doing the exact opposite. He steered clear of any woman who possessed the qualities he now wanted in a mate. Loyalty. Compassion. A desire to live a simple life, to build a home and have children.

He’d told himself more than once this past year that when he retired from the Dundee agency, he’d return to Dearborn. Maybe while he was in town on this job for Perry, he could see about hiring a contractor and getting some work done on the old place. He had enough money to turn the family farmhouse into a showplace. Once he and Manda announced their engagement, him renovating the house would create speculation among her acquaintances as to whether he would dare to bring Manda out here to live.

Hunter laughed. After they married, maybe he should bring her here to stay for a while. She’d be miserable. The place was terribly rundown and still decorated with his grandmother’s old furniture that had already seen better days when he’d been a child. No, there wasn’t any need to make things worse for Manda than they already were. If the nutcase who wanted to control her life came out in the open with threats and maybe an attempt on his or Manda’s life, she would have enough to deal with. But a part of him couldn’t help wondering how Miss Manda would cope with life on the farm.

Hunter poured himself a cup of coffee from the old metal percolator his granny had used as far back as he could remember. Taking his coffee mug with him, he shoved open the kitchen door and walked out onto the back porch. The sun had just begun its ascent from the eastern horizon, but already at seven o’clock in the morning, the day was warm, predicting the accuracy of the weatherman’s forecast that the temperature would climb into the high eighties by midafternoon. Barefoot and bare-chested, he strolled out into the yard. Weeds infested Granny’s once picture-perfect flower beds that surrounded the ramshackle old house. His feet touched the dew-laden grass as he ventured past the wire clothesline and toward the small orchard of pear trees his great-grandfather had planted decades ago.

There was a sense of homecoming in being here, in setting foot on land that had been possessed by his ancestors for close to a hundred and fifty years. Strange how when he’d been a teenager, he had longed to get away from this place, from the daily chores that went along with being a farm kid.

Now, he wished that Granny and Pop were still alive so that he could tell them how wrong he’d been about wanting to escape the peace and solitude of the farm to live in a big city.

Had that been how his mother had felt when she’d run away at seventeen? Had she wanted to escape? But what she’d done was get herself pregnant. Unmarried and abandoned by her boyfriend, Tina Whitelaw had been forced to come home to her parents. Hunter had never known his father, didn’t even know who the man was. No name. No description. Nothing. His mother had returned to the farm, dumped him on her parents and before his first birthday, had left again. They hadn’t heard from her in years when they received a phone call ten years later telling them that she’d died from a drug overdose. She’d been living with her fourth husband in Los Angeles.

Hunter breathed deeply, savoring the smell of the earth and the abundance of verdant life surrounding him. Had his mother realized too late that what she had run away from was far better than anything she’d ever found?

Manda drank her morning tea on the patio of the house she had purchased eight years ago, shortly after acquiring her masters of education degree in community counseling. After Rodney’s death and her father’s six months later, Perry had sent her and Grams on a year-long trip through Europe. After the time she spent far away from Dearborn, her mind occupied with the wonders of the world, she had returned home to Georgia with a purpose. With love, comfort and support, she had survived the deaths of two people she dearly loved. She had wanted to spend her life helping others who were lost in the hopelessness of grief, as she had been. After acquiring her degree, she’d begun work as a counselor at the Hickory Hills Clinic. That’s where she’d met Boyd, who was also a counselor.

Oxford came bounding across the yard, wagging his tail and panting madly, after retrieving his favorite red ball Manda had tossed. The black-and-white springer spaniel had been a gift from Grady Alders last year on her birthday. Oxford, whom she’d named in honor of the saddle oxfords she’s worn as child because the dog’s oddly striped front feet bore a striking resemblance to the shoes, had become her beloved friend and confidant. She found herself often talking to him as if he were a person. Of course, he had no idea that he wasn’t. He slept at the foot of her bed on his own oversize, cedar-chips-stuffed pillow and had free reign of the house and yard. He ate table scraps along with choice cuts of meat she prepared especially for him. And she kept a supply of every dog treat product on the market, as well as an endless variety of toys. Oxford was probably one of the most pampered pets in the world, but why shouldn’t she lavish her love and attention on the animal? Unless Perry’s plan worked, she would never have the chance to become a mother and give all the love in her heart to a child of her own.

When the telephone rang, she made a mad dash into the kitchen, Oxford at her heels. Who would be calling her at seven on a Saturday morning? She lifted the receiver off the wall base.

“Hello?”

“Manda, dear, it’s Claire. I hope I didn’t waken you.”

“I’ve been up for a good half hour,” she said. “Oxford and I were outside soaking up some of this great springtime sunshine.”