“You may kiss the bride.”

Drew turned to Tia and their eyes met. His were dark and serious, clouded with something Tia now understood very well. Confusion. They had taken the biggest step a man and woman could take together. They had done it for some very good reasons. But if their fifteen-minute service had almost sucked her into believing this was real, how would she possibly survive eight months?

Drew bent his head and touched his lips to hers, but before he could pull away, Tia slid her right arm around his neck and nudged him to stay where he was. They wouldn’t give the impression of two people so enamored they had to get married in two weeks with a peck on the cheek.

They had to really kiss.

Dear Reader,

After looking at winter’s bleak landscape and feeling her icy cold breezes, I found nothing to be more rewarding than savoring the warm ocean breezes from a poolside lounge chair as I read a soon-to-be favorite book or two! Of course, as I choose my books for this long-anticipated outing, this month’s Silhouette Romance offerings will be on the top of my pile.

Cara Colter begins the month with Chasing Dreams (#1818), part of her A FATHER’S WISH trilogy. In this poignant title, a beautiful academic moves outside her comfort zone and feels alive for the first time in the arms of a brawny man who would seem her polar opposite. When an unexpected night of passion results in a pregnancy, the hero and heroine learn that duty can bring its own sweet rewards, in Wishing and Hoping (#1819), the debut book in beloved series author Susan Meier’s THE CUPID CAMPAIGN miniseries. Elizabeth Harbison sets out to discover whether bustling New York City will prove the setting for a modern-day fairy tale when an ordinary woman comes face-to-face with one of the world’s most eligible royals, in If the Slipper Fits (#1820). Finally, Lissa Manley rounds out the month with The Parent Trap (#1821), in which two matchmaking girls set out to invent a family.

Be sure to return next month when Cara Colter concludes her heartwarming trilogy.

Happy reading!

Ann Leslie Tuttle

Associate Senior Editor

Wishing and Hoping
The Cupid Campaign
Susan Meier

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Books by Susan Meier

Silhouette Romance

Stand-In Mom #1022

Temporarily Hers #1109

Wife in Training #1184

Merry Christmas, Daddy #1192

*In Care of the Sheriff #1283

*Guess What? We’re Married! #1338

Husband from 9 to 5 #1354

*The Rancher and the Heiress #1374

†The Baby Bequest #1420

†Bringing Up Babies #1427

†Oh, Babies! #1433

His Expectant Neighbor #1468

Hunter’s Vow #1487

Cinderella and the CEO #1498

Marrying Money #1519

The Boss’s Urgent Proposal #1566

Married Right Away #1579

Married in the Morning #1601

**Baby on Board #1639

**The Tycoon’s Double Trouble #1650

**The Nanny Solution #1662

Love, Your Secret Admirer #1684

Twice a Princess #1758

††Baby Before Business #1774

††Prince Baby #1783

††Snowbound Baby #1791

‡Wishing and Hoping #1819

SUSAN MEIER

is one of eleven children, and though she’s yet to write a book about a big family, many of her books explore the dynamics of “unusual” family situations, such as large work “families,” bosses who behave like overprotective fathers, or “sister” bonds created between friends. Because she has more than twenty nieces and nephews, children also are always popping up in her stories. Many of the funny scenes in her books are based on experiences raising her own children or interacting with her nieces and nephews. She was born and raised in western Pennsylvania and continues to live in Pennsylvania.

For my parents, whose continuing romance through their marriage showed me that love really can be everlasting.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter One

“I’m pregnant.”

Tia Capriotti stood on the porch of Drew Wallace’s white French Colonial farmhouse, staring at the father of her child. His shiny black hair, usually hidden by his Stetson, was sexily disheveled and his dark eyes glittered sexily, but that was Drew. He was handsome. He was sexy. And she now knew he was out of her league.

The sounds of two stable hands leaving for the day alerted Tia to the fact that they might be overheard. She knew Drew realized that too when he grabbed her forearm and pulled her into his foyer, quickly closing the stained-glass door behind her.

“Say that again.”

She raised her eyes to meet his gaze. “I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, God!” was all Drew said as he sat down heavily on the fourth step of the stairway. His butt hit the soft carpet runner as his boots thumped on the hardwood floor.

Tia said nothing, giving him time to get his bearings, remembering, as he probably was, the night they had run into each other at a party in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, so far away from Calhoun Corners, Virginia, that he’d never expected to come across somebody from his hometown. He’d always known her as Isabella. So when their host introduced her as Tia—a nickname she’d picked up in college—without her last name, he hadn’t associated her with his formerly chubby, long-haired next-door neighbor, whom he hadn’t seen since she’d left for college six years before.

But she had assumed he’d recognized her because he didn’t ask her last name and flirted with her as if she were the love of his life—something she’d dreamt of through high school when she’d had a killer crush on him. She was thrilled when he’d accepted her invitation to come back to her house.

They hadn’t caught the misunderstanding until after they’d made love, but when he had discovered she was Isabella Capriotti, not just plain Tia-somebody-or-another-who-worked-at-an-ad-firm-in downtown-Pittsburgh, Drew had been furious. He’d felt she should have realized he hadn’t recognized her, if only because she should have known he wouldn’t have a one-night stand with the daughter of the man who had helped him build his horse-breeding business. And if that wasn’t enough, he didn’t sleep with women twelve years younger than he was.

After his outburst, Tia had stared at him mutely, thinking his understanding of romance was nonexistent. He had no qualms about jumping into bed with a total stranger, but he was upset about making love to her—mostly because he knew her.

Still, she had her pride. When they had made love, he’d believed she was somebody else. She couldn’t even remotely pretend the man of her high-school fantasies loved her. And the way he had scolded her had made her blood boil. She was an adult. She had a job and a house. A bank had considered her responsible enough to give her a mortgage. She hadn’t deserved to be treated like a little girl.

And that’s exactly what she had told him before she’d asked him to leave. When he’d walked out her door that night she had been convinced that she would never see him again.

She knew he wouldn’t be happy she was pregnant, but she was here to assure him he needn’t be concerned. She might be twelve years younger than he was, but she was a twenty-four-year-old woman who made enough money to support a child. She was ready to become a mom. He could have as much or as little involvement with this baby as he wanted.

“Don’t worry. I have everything under control.”

“What about me? Don’t I get any say in this?”

“I absolutely want you to be involved in our baby’s life, but there’s no pressure. You have the option to be as involved as you want to be.”

He gaped at her. “That’s your idea of having everything under control? To give me the ‘option’ of being involved in our baby’s life?”

“No!” Tia said, baffled by how he had twisted everything. “I have a job and my own house…”

“I’m not talking about finances. I’m talking about the personal end of things. A child should have its father’s name.”

He sounded exactly as her dad sounded any time he heard of a woman having a baby on her own, and Tia realized that this was probably why women didn’t date men too much older than they were.

“As far as I’m concerned the first thing we need to do is get married.”

Tia’s heart thumped at the possibility of being the wife of the man she’d fantasized about since she was fourteen. But she knew he didn’t want to marry her. And she didn’t think she wanted to marry him, either. Not after the way he’d reacted the night they’d made love. No thanks.

“I didn’t come here to extort marriage from you. The baby can just take your name. It doesn’t matter if we’re married when he’s born—”

“Maybe not to you, but it does to me and I’ll bet it does to your dad.” He paused and groaned. “Damn it! We have a bigger reason to get married than giving the baby my name.”

Not quite sure she trusted him, Tia peered at him. “And that reason is?”

“Your dad’s reelection campaign is in trouble.”

“Really?” she asked dubiously. Her dad had been mayor of Calhoun Corners since she was six. No one ever voted against him.

“For the first time in close to twenty years, your dad has an opponent. Auggie Malloy. His entire platform is based on the fact that your dad had a heart attack last year. Everybody knows he takes pills when he’s stressed and Auggie’s saying that makes him too sick to be mayor. And Mark Fegan agrees,” Drew said, referring to the editor of the Calhoun Corners Chronicle. “He’s been running editorials supporting Auggie.”

This time it was Tia who groaned. “Are you kidding me? By doing that he’s actually causing the stress that causes my dad’s chest pain.”

“And makes your dad look too weak to be mayor. But even so, the election isn’t our problem. Our problem is that your dad has enough stress already and God only knows how he’s going to react when we tell him I got you pregnant in a one-night stand and we’re not getting married because we don’t really know each other—but we had sex.”

Tia fell to the step just below the one on which Drew sat. She hadn’t intended to tell her dad the “circumstances” under which she got pregnant, but she understood what Drew was saying. With the stress her dad already had, there was a chance that any news that made him angry could be the stress that pushed him over the edge, and she didn’t even want to put into words what would happen then.

“What if we don’t tell him until after the election?”

“There are six months until the election. Do you think you’re not going to be showing any time in the next six months? Or that the stress of the election will lessen as we get closer to the day that everybody goes to the polls? If anything, the stress is going to increase. It’s better to tell him you’re pregnant now before the election stress is at its worst, when he really could have a heart attack.”

As Tia tried to think it through, Drew scooted off his stair to pace the foyer, his boots making a thumping sound on the hardwood with every step. But he suddenly turned and stood towering over her. Because it was a hot June day, he wore only jeans and a T-shirt that his chest and broad shoulders stretched to capacity. His penetrating brown eyes seemed to be able to see the whole way to her soul. He was so attractive it almost hurt to look at him. She swallowed.

“This doesn’t have to be complicated. If we tell your dad we’ve been secretly dating and you’re pregnant so we’re getting married, nobody will blink an eye. And it’s not like we have to be ‘really’ married. You work in Pittsburgh. I live in Virginia. We don’t even have to see each other except for a few weekends to make the situation look believable. We can divorce after the baby’s born and once again I’ll bet nobody will even blink an eye, if only because with you working in Pittsburgh and me living in Virginia everybody will say our marriage was doomed from the start.”

What he said made a lot of sense. They could pretend to be married without having to live together because of her job. Plus, not seeing much of each other was a built-in explanation for why the marriage would fail. Oddly enough, it was the perfect way to hide the bad part of their situation while revealing the good parts. Her parents didn’t have any grandchildren. A wedding and a baby right now might be a calming influence. At the very least, a baby and a wedding could make her parents happy.

“Okay. We’ll get married.”

“Okay.”

The foyer became incredibly quiet. They spent the next few seconds staring at each other and it sunk in for Tia that she was marrying the guy she’d dreamed about from the day she’d met him when she was fourteen. Unfortunately, the wedding wasn’t happening anywhere near the way she’d envisioned it. And, even more unfortunately, Drew Wallace wasn’t the Prince Charming she had imagined in her teenage fantasies. In fact, he was pretty much the opposite of the sweet, sincere gentleman she had pictured him to be.

Drew suddenly turned and grabbed his Stetson from a peg by the door. “Let’s go tell your parents.”

Her gaze jerked back to his. “Now?”

“If we don’t do this now, we’re both going to lose courage. Or we’ll try to talk ourselves out of it. Trust me. When it comes to ugly situations like this, I know exactly how to get out of them.”

A quiver of misgiving shuddered through Tia. She wasn’t so naive as to think that a man as handsome and sexy as Drew got to be thirty-six without being involved with other women. Maybe even lots of women. But she’d never thought of him as needing to “get out of things.” Worse, she’d never thought far enough ahead to consider that he might actually be involved with somebody right now.

She rose from the step. “I’m not about to be confronted by an angry woman for stealing her man, am I?”

With his hand already on the doorknob, Drew let out a gust of air and faced her. “You’re not stealing anybody’s man.”

“Because you don’t have somebody?”

“Because we’re not staying married.”

“So this marriage won’t even be a bump in the road for you?”

Drew looked at her as if she were crazy and she said, “Never mind.” She stepped out onto the porch ahead of him and ran down the steps to the sidewalk, knowing that for the next several months, maybe even year, she was stuck with the grumpiest man on the face of the earth. “This is going to be fun.”

“It doesn’t have to be fun. It doesn’t have to be much of anything since we only have to spend enough time together that your parents don’t suspect the marriage is fake.”

“As I said, sounds like a barrel of fun.”

After crunching across the gravel to the big black truck he had parked in front of his garage, Drew opened the door to the cab and gestured for Tia to climb inside. “And as I said, it doesn’t need to be fun. Only official.”

Tia walked past him. She was pregnant with his baby and had conspired to enter into a fake marriage with him, yet he was barking orders as if he still saw her as a child.

“I’ll take my own car, thanks,” she said, her voice prim and proper. “There’s no reason for me to drive back here just to pick it up.”

He slammed the truck door. “Good point.”

“Whatever,” she said, and marched to her little red sports car.

She got inside, closed her door with enough force to rattle the windows and had her vehicle roaring down the lane toward the main highway before Drew turned to walk to the driver’s-side door.

Anger ricocheted through Drew. He kicked both front tires of his truck on his way around each fender and slammed his door, too.

His only consolation was that he knew Tia wasn’t really driving too fast. Her sports car had a big engine that would roar anytime anyone hit the gas even slightly. But occupying his brain with anger about her driving was much better than thinking about telling his mentor and friend that his daughter was about to have a baby. His baby….

Drew paused and, dropping his head, let his forehead bump against the steering wheel. His baby.

Dear God. He was going to be a father.

Even as the thought filled him with an emotion that made his heart feel as if it was surrounded by warm oatmeal, it also struck pure terror in that same heart. Not because he thought he couldn’t handle being a dad, but because he knew he could not handle being married. One incredibly ugly divorce had taught him that lesson. His ex-wife had bled him dry. But that wasn’t the worst. The worst was discovering, after he’d literally sold his share of his first business to his partner to pay her settlement, that she just happened to be having an affair with that same partner.

Drew squeezed his eyes shut, angry with himself for thinking of things so far in the past, but he couldn’t stop the memories. Sandy hadn’t been his first love. He’d had girlfriends, been in love, and even lived with someone for a few months before he’d met Sandy, so he wasn’t naive. But Sandy had been special. She was funny, interesting, smart and one of the most wonderful women he had ever met. He remembered some nights just watching her sleep, totally grateful that she was his.

Her request for a divorce had come out of the blue and had blindsided him. When he had opened the envelope from the process server he was sure he and his partner were being sued by one of their contractors. That would have been stunning enough. But to see in print Sandy’s name and his name and the word divorce on the same page, when he hadn’t even known there was trouble in paradise, had paralyzed him.

Figuring that it might be a joke or a mistake, he had raced home to talk to Sandy, but she had coldly assured him that it was neither a mistake nor a joke. He had begged her to let him make it up to her—though he hadn’t really understood what he’d done wrong. She had handed him a suitcase, told him she was changing the locks and escorted him to the door.

And he’d stood there. On the front stoop of the brand-new house they were supposed to share. Probably for a half hour. Numb and confused.

After the divorce, he had wished he’d stayed numb. Because when he had learned his wife had kicked him out so she could marry his former partner, he had gotten so angry he’d punched Mac Franklin. That cost him a night in jail.

But even that wasn’t the worst. The worst had been loving somebody who didn’t love him. The worst had been living in the same town when the woman he loved and the partner he admired got engaged, then married. The worst had been looking at her happy pictures in the newspaper and wondering where the hell he had gone wrong. Wondering why she had fallen out of love, and when. Wondering what was wrong with him that she didn’t want him. Going over every second of their two years together that he could remember and coming up empty. Feeling he hadn’t done anything wrong and wishing, almost begging God to let him have done something—even something small—so he would know not to do it again. So he’d have some hope for the future.

But that mythical “thing” he might have done never materialized. He was the victim, the guy who had been wronged, yet he was still the one who had lost everything. And maybe that was the reason the whole deal never really settled itself for him. There was no lesson to be learned except that he wouldn’t ever trust anybody with so much of his life again.

And Isabella—Tia—had already tricked him.

Not intentionally, Drew reminded himself. As she’d told him after they had made love, she’d lost weight and cut her long brown hair immediately after she had graduated from college. It was her first step in trying to get people to see her as more mature, but Drew didn’t know that. Because she didn’t look like the Isabella who had gone off to college, and because she had been introduced as Tia, and because they were so far away from home that he wasn’t thinking about anybody from Calhoun Corners, let alone somebody he hadn’t seen in six years, he had never suspected she was his former neighbor.

The whole situation was a jumble of confusion, but it was a manageable jumble. What wasn’t manageable—or predictable or even something he wanted—was a long-term involvement with a woman. But just because he and Tia were parents, that didn’t necessarily mean they had to be “involved.” If he could endure being married for eight short months, all he had to worry about were the times he dropped off or picked up their child. And as he’d already pointed out to Tia, she lived in Pittsburgh. At best, throughout this marriage they’d see each other on weekends.

Everything would be fine.

He drove down her parents’ tree-lined lane, very much like his own, to the Capriotti horse farm. His house was a white French Colonial, built as a gift to himself for finally succeeding financially the way he had always known he could, but Tia’s parents lived in a redbrick farmhouse that had been updated and renovated several times. Long and regal, it somehow managed to look more like a home than any house Drew had ever seen.

But even as the site comforted him, Drew’s stomach knotted. Ben Capriotti had saved his sanity. After losing his half of the architectural firm to his wife, Drew wasn’t going into architecture again because he was sure that profession was bad luck for him. When he had explained that to Ben, Ben had laughed and agreed to teach Drew everything he needed to know about breeding horses, and getting involved in something so complex hadn’t left Drew time to think about his ex-wife or his ex-partner. Ben had kept his promise and helped Drew every step along the way, and Drew had repaid him by getting his only daughter pregnant.

If he could take one thing back in his life, it would be making love to Tia that night in May. But since he couldn’t, he would at least do the right thing.

He shoved open his truck door and joined Tia on the front porch. Apparently over her anger with him, or maybe because she knew they needed to present a unified front to her parents, she quietly said, “Ready?”

Without hesitation or thought, he took her hand and caught her gaze. Bad move. The combination of those pretty blue eyes and the smoothness of her skin shot arousal through him. But Tia didn’t seem to have the same problem. She didn’t gasp or shiver. Her eyes didn’t darken with desire or even simple awareness. Instead, her expression grew puzzled.

Thanks. That was great for the ego.

He sighed and raised their joined hands. “If we’re going to get away with this lie, there are a couple of things we’ll have to do.”

He tried to ignore the electricity sizzling between their clasped hands, but he couldn’t. Though it had been more than a month since they’d been together, the heat they had generated that night was alive and well and giving him the kinds of thoughts that could get a man arrested in some states, reminding him of something he’d forgotten to even consider. How the hell did he expect to be married to this woman without sleeping with her?

Through sheer force of will. Tia was the only daughter of his mentor, which meant Drew had only one real concern. Making sure he didn’t push Ben Capriotti over the edge of his stress limit. To do that Drew only had to pretend to like Tia. He did not actually have to like her. When it came to common sense and sheer force of will, Drew knew he was the best. There would be no problem with his self-control.

“Holding hands is the easiest way to immediately clue them in that we’re more than friends.”

When Tia’s tongue came out to moisten her lips and she gazed into his eyes for a few seconds too long, Drew almost groaned. Not because the sexy gesture reminded him of just how difficult ignoring her was going to be, but because the lip-moistening demonstrated that she wasn’t nearly as unaffected as he had thought.

Well, whatever. He hadn’t met a woman he couldn’t cause to dislike him. Even Tia had kicked him out of her house the night they’d made love. In a few weeks he could have her absolutely hating him. And he would. Right after they convinced her parents they were crazy in love and getting married.

“Don’t take anything I say in here personally,” he said, then turned and opened the front door, leading her into her parents’ house.

When they entered the foyer, Tia called, “Mom? Dad?”

“In the den, honey,” her mother answered. “Come on back.”

“Okay,” Tia said casually, but Drew’s stomach plummeted. He considered giving himself a minute to calm down, but knew things weren’t going to get any better with the passage of time, so they might as well get this over with.

“Let’s go.”

With a slight tug on Tia’s hand, he led her into her father’s den. Her parents were seated together on the old tan leather sofa, reviewing the records for the farm.

As they entered the den, her mother glanced up. Drew knew Tia had gotten her size and shape from her mother, an average-height brunette with pretty green eyes. But her dark brown hair and blue eyes came from her dad.

“Drew?” Elizabeth Capriotti’s gaze skittered over to Tia, then unerringly honed in on their joined hands. “Tia?”

“Hi, Mom,” Tia said, then—probably because she was as nervous as he was—she unexpectedly blurted, “Drew and I are getting married.”

Her dad put down the computer printout he was holding. Looking totally baffled, he rose. “What did you say?”

“We’re getting married,” Drew said, squeezing Tia’s hand and hoping she got the message to let him handle this. “Tia wasn’t supposed to just drop that bomb on you like that.”

Her dad took two steps toward them. “How exactly would you suggest my daughter…my only daughter…my baby daughter…tell me that she’s about to marry a man who is ten…no, twelve…years older than she is?”

“I know this looks bad,” Tia began, but Drew lightly squeezed her hand again, reminding her to let him be the one to speak. Their whole purpose in getting married was to downplay the problem, and Drew was an expert at that.

“Ben, the news Tia and I have gets worse before it gets better. Since she started the ball rolling by blurting out that we’re getting married, I’m going to put all our cards on the table and tell you she’s pregnant.”

Tia’s dad gasped, stumbled then clutched his chest. Tia cried, “Dad!” snatched her hand back from Drew and rushed to her father.

“Ben!” Elizabeth shouted, jumping from her seat and running to the big mahogany desk to grab her husband’s pills.

But Ben waved Tia away as he turned to call his wife back. “Don’t, Elizabeth. I’m fine. But you two really are getting married,” he said, turning back to Drew and Tia. “And this pregnancy stays a secret until after the election. I’m contending with enough right now without adding the gossip of your shenanigans to the mix. Understood?”

Drew said, “Understood,” as Tia simultaneously said, “I understand.”

Ben shook his head. “No, you don’t understand, Tia. You live in Pittsburgh. You haven’t been reading the paper, seeing how Mark Fegan’s keeping conversation focused on my damn heart condition so Auggie Malloy doesn’t have to deal with real issues—” He waved his hand. “Hell. Forget it. The campaign’s my problem. I’ll handle it.” He pointed a stern finger at Tia and Drew. “But you two get married, and I mean right now.”

With that he returned to the sofa, sat and began going through the bills on the coffee table, dismissing Tia and Drew. Elizabeth hurriedly motioned for Tia and Drew to follow her out of the room.

As she closed the den door she said, “We didn’t even know you were dating.”

“We didn’t date long,” Drew said, silently congratulating himself for his cleverness. He hadn’t lied, but he also hadn’t admitted that they’d had a one-night stand.

“And we are happy,” Tia said.

Knowing that wasn’t at all true, Drew could only guess Tia had said that because it was the one thing her mother wouldn’t argue about. Elizabeth might be upset about her daughter marrying someone older, but she wouldn’t argue with her little girl’s happiness. He gave Tia points for recognizing that and decided that maybe, between the two of them, this wouldn’t be too godawful difficult to pull off, after all.

“Do you think Daddy’s okay?” Tia asked softly.

Elizabeth nodded. “He’s fine. Parents deal with unexpected babies and weddings every day of the week.” She blew her breath out on a long sigh. “It’s the election that’s making him nuts.”

“We’re sorry that this comes at such a bad time,” Tia said.

“When do you plan to get married?”

Drew said, “I thought we’d just get a license and go see a judge…”

Elizabeth’s eyes rounded with sorrow. “No wedding?”

“Sorry, Elizabeth,” Drew said, “but we’re a little pressed for time. As Ben said, we won’t announce that Tia’s pregnant for a few months, but the quicker we get married, the better.”

“I could put something together in two weeks,” Elizabeth insisted. “That would be the first of July. You could get married in the gazebo in the backyard and we could have a small reception under a tent.” She gazed at Drew imploringly. “It wouldn’t be any trouble.”

“Elizabeth—” Drew began.

But Tia interrupted him. “I think that’s a great idea, Mom. A wedding will be something fun for all of us. Maybe give Dad a break from the election for a day. As long as we keep it to a little wedding in the backyard.”

“That’s perfect,” Elizabeth said. “Nothing fancy. Just something small.”

Tia turned to Drew. “Unless you want to help Mom and me make wedding plans, you can go now.”

It took a second before Drew understood she was telling him his work here was done. When he got it, everything inside him melted with relief and he said, “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Elizabeth echoed. “You’re leaving?”

“I’m not much on girlie stuff, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth looked at Tia. “But you’re staying?”

“To help you plan—”

“All night?” Elizabeth said, but as she spoke her puzzled expression changed to a shrewd-mother smile. “Tia? What’s going on here?”

Chapter Two

“Nothing’s going on!” Drew said, grabbing Tia by the shoulders and turning her in the direction of the foyer. Tia struggled against his hold, but he gripped her tighter.

“Tia forgot how late it was when she volunteered to help plan tonight. You go back to the den and check on Ben. You can call us tomorrow morning and we’ll come over and talk about wedding plans then. Or Tia can come over by herself…whatever you and Ben want.”

With that, Drew pushed Tia up the hall and she gave up fighting him because it wasn’t good for her mother to see them argue or question each other.

But when they were on the front porch, out of range of both of her parents, she glared at him. “Drew—”

“Shhh,” he said, pulling her down the steps and all but dragging her to her car. “If we don’t make too much of a ruckus, maybe nobody will notice we brought two vehicles.”

He tucked her inside her little red sports car, then raced over to his truck. Tia followed him back to his house. Not at all happy with his high-handedness, she parked her car beside his in front of the two-car garage, walked into the foyer and tossed her car keys onto the curio cabinet.

“If you’d given me two minutes I could have talked my mother into planning tonight and I wouldn’t have had to come back here!”

“That was exactly the problem,” Drew said as he ambled off to the left into his living room. “It was obvious that you were trying to get rid of me when we’re supposed to be madly in love and you’re supposed to want to spend the night with me.”

Still in the foyer, Tia froze by the stairway. She barely had time to register a grateful reaction for his saving their charade. The words spend the night with me caused her chest to tighten and her pulse to scramble. She sure as heck hoped he didn’t think they should be sharing the same bed, but even as the idea entered her brain she knew that’s exactly what he thought. She was already pregnant. He knew she found him attractive. They had been magnificent together sexually. Plus, they were getting married. They would be each other’s opposite-sex companion for the next eight months. She couldn’t envision him going without sex for eight months.

She leaned against the newel post to steady herself. This situation just kept getting worse.

Well, she’d already faced two awkward conversations this evening. Time for number three.

Straightening her shoulders, she headed for his living room.

Seated on a white brocade sofa, with his arms stretched across its back and his boots on the coffee table, Drew looked disreputable and self-assured and so handsome that Tia had a sudden case of second thoughts. They might not be right for each other as a real husband and wife, but would sleeping together for the next eight months really be that bad?

“Your mother is suspicious,” Drew said, “because our story is weak. Not only do we have to come up with a more detailed story than what we told your parents, but we should also have a prenup.”

Tia’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open slightly. “You don’t have to protect your money from me!”

“How do you know I wasn’t trying to protect your money from me?”

Taken aback by that possibility, she thought about it, then remembered she didn’t have any money to protect. She’d only been working two years. Not enough time to accumulate a nest egg. Any money she had saved had gone into the down payment for her house.

“I don’t have any money.”

“Okay, then we’re back to protecting mine. But for a few seconds there, when you thought you might have money, you have to admit you wanted a prenup, too.”

This was why she wouldn’t sleep with him. He was nothing like the guy of her childhood fantasies. He wasn’t a sweet, considerate, smitten Prince Charming. He was a grouch who perpetually watched out for himself. “You’re insane.”

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t care what you think of me.” He pushed himself off the sofa and poured two fingers of Scotch. “Can I get you something? Soda? Iced tea? Glass of milk?”

“I’m fine,” she said, but she wasn’t. This morning she had been a happy-go-lucky employee at an advertising firm. She had a job secure enough that she was ready, even happy, to become a mom. In her generosity of spirit and fairness of heart, she’d decided to tell her baby’s father he was about to be a dad. She’d agreed to marry him to protect her father from the potential stress that telling the real story might generate. Now, her father was okay, but she was stuck spending too much time with a man who always looked on the dark side of things. She wished she had realized Drew wasn’t the nice guy she had created in her fantasies before she’d made love with him, but she’d been so caught up in her childhood crush that she’d let herself believe he was the man in her dreams.

He wasn’t. She didn’t know exactly who he was, but he most certainly wasn’t Prince Charming.

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

He peered at her over his Scotch glass. His gaze went from her short cap of dark hair, along her face, down her shoulders, pausing at her breasts, and then tumbled to her toes. For a few seconds he appeared to be considering his answer. Finally, he smiled and said, “I don’t remember asking.”

Embarrassment shot through her, but she ignored it. She didn’t believe for one second that he didn’t want to sleep with her. Still, she wasn’t arguing with good fortune.

“Let’s just say that was another one of those things we had to get out of the way.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

He strolled back to the white sofa and settled again on the plump cushion. “Let’s get back to the prenup.”

“I don’t have any money. I don’t want yours. I think your lawyer should be able to handle that.”

“You don’t want your lawyer to draw it up?”

“I don’t have a lawyer.”

“Then we’ll use mine. But you should get one to look it over before you sign it.”

“Why? Planning to cheat me?”

“No, just teaching you to watch your back. Marriage is as much a business proposition as anything else. It pays not to forget that.”

She would have had a snappy comeback, but as he spoke the room began to spin. She swayed slightly and groped for the back of a nearby club chair with cognac-colored pillows that matched the silk printed drapes.

Before she had a solid hold, Drew was at her side. “Whoa. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. But it’s been a long day.” Really long. All she had wanted was to do the right thing. For her trouble, she was stuck with a lunatic arguing about prenups. “I’m exhausted.”

“Then we’ll talk in the morning. We have the whole house to ourselves for at least two weeks because my housekeeper is taking care of her sister in Minneapolis after surgery. We don’t have to figure everything out tonight.”

Tia shifted out from under his hold. “Great. I’ll get my overnight bag from my car, then you can show me where to sleep.”

“I’ll get your overnight bag,” Drew said as he caught her by the shoulders, turned her around and led her into the foyer. He pointed up the steps. “Pick any room you want. Just don’t take the room at the end of the hall. That’s mine. I’d give it to you if you insist, but since Mrs. Hernandez has been gone, it’s a mess. The others are all clean. Take one of them.” With that, he turned and walked out the front door.

Tia climbed the steps. At the top she gazed down the long, quiet corridor of the second floor of his brand-new house and counted six bedroom doors. She would have taken the first, but curiosity got the better of her and she sneaked down the hall, peeking into each room, gasping every time she opened a door because all six were beautifully appointed. Probably professionally decorated.

And she suddenly realized why Drew wanted a prenup. In the same way that she’d grown up in the past six years, he’d become wealthy. Maybe even the object of women pursuing him for his money. And she’d shown up on his doorstep waving the oldest trick in the book. A pregnancy. After a case of mistaken identity.

Wow. No wonder Drew wanted a prenup. For all practical intents and purposes, it looked as if she’d tricked him.

“Do you have any rope?”

Drew glanced up from reading the morning paper. When he saw Tia standing in his kitchen doorway, he steeled himself against the slam of desire that hit him like a tsunami. He didn’t mind that she had the waistband of her too-big sweatpants bunched in her fist. What got to him was the enticing strip of belly flesh exposed because she had her white T-shirt tied at her midriff. It reminded him that he knew how soft she was. He knew how sweet she smelled. He knew just how good they had been together before he’d figured out she was Ben’s daughter.

Which was exactly why she was totally off-limits. She was Ben’s daughter. Not somebody he’d normally seduce. Not somebody he would sleep with again. Not only that, but their situation hadn’t really been settled. If she wouldn’t sign a prenup, he couldn’t marry her.

When she’d conveniently become sick before they could finish their discussion about the prenup, it had finally sunk into Drew’s thick skull that it was pretty darned odd that Tia had had absolutely no hesitation about making love the day they’d met at the party in Pittsburgh. They didn’t really know each other as adults, so Drew knew there was no emotional bond between them. Which meant the most logical conclusion to be drawn for why she’d fall into the arms of a man she hardly knew was that she had wanted something.

He didn’t have a clue what it was, but he did know that though he was duty-bound to raise his child and protect Ben, there was no way in hell he was losing half this farm. If she thought she was going to hoodwink him out of money, she was sadly mistaken. In fact, he’d decided not to push the issue of the prenup until he had a better handle on what game she was playing.

Gripping her too-big bottoms, Tia ambled to the table. “The first two weeks I was pregnant, I threw up every day and I lost ten pounds. Now all of my baggy clothes are way too baggy.”

“There’s plenty of rope for those pants in the stable,” he said, and turned his attention back to his newspaper. “If we were staying for breakfast I’d get you a bale. Since we’re going out, you might as well shower and put on something that fits.”

“We’re going out?”

“We need to be seen in public before your mother calls the preacher to arrange the ceremony or the local caterer to order two roasters of chicken for a buffet supper, and word of our marriage gets out.”

“You’re right.”

“So go change and I’ll see you at the truck.”

Though Tia cringed at the mention of his truck, much to Drew’s relief, she didn’t argue. She left the kitchen and twenty minutes later, dressed in comfortable-looking capri pants and a crisp white blouse, she joined him by his black truck where he was talking over the day’s chores with two hands.

“Jim, Pete,” he said when Tia joined them. He slid his arm across her shoulders. “You remember Tia Capriotti, Ben’s daughter.”

Jim grinned. Pete took off his hat.

“Sure.”

Tia extended her hand to shake both of theirs. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“We’re going for breakfast right now,” Drew said, not giving anybody a chance to really get to know each other. If her goal was to cheat him, he had to be very careful how chummy he let her get with the people close to him. He still had to marry her. He still wanted to be part of his child’s life. But he’d be darned if he’d let her insinuate herself into his world enough that she could get information to use against him to take half of the farm he’d worked for for the past ten years. “We should be back at about eleven. I’ll check on you then.”

Jim and Pete nodded and headed for the stable. Drew turned Tia in the direction of his truck.

“How about if we take my car?”

“No.”

“I no longer get morning sickness, but I still get motion sickness in any vehicle but my own car. We don’t want to show up at the diner first thing in the morning with me green and begging for crackers.”

He sighed. Unfortunately, she had a point. “Fine. But I’m driving.”

Tia rolledher eyes. “I’m pregnant. I’m not an invalid.”

“No, but I’ve seen the way you drive,” he said, taking the keys from her. “I want to get there in one piece.”

He opened the passenger’s-side door for her. She got in and he closed the door, then rounded the hood. He slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. It purred to life like the finely tuned piece of engineering that it was, and he smiled. He didn’t know a man in the world who wouldn’t have smiled.

“Nice car.” And not the car of a woman who needed to cheat a man out of money. He frowned. That really was the truth. This wasn’t the car of a woman who needed to trick a man for money.

“Thanks. I bought it as a present to myself two years ago when I graduated.”

Ah. Graduation money. The car didn’t count. “What is it you do for a living, again?”

“I work for an ad firm.”

“You took all those brains your dad told me you had and decided they would best serve the world by selling panty hose?”

She laughed. “I’m pretty good with panty hose, breakfast cereal is the specialty of the company I work for.”

“You think hawking cereal is more important than science or medicine?”

“No, but I don’t have a science or medicine kind of brain. I’m analytical, but I’m more verbal. I could have probably made a lot more money at a drug company, but I like what I do.” She shrugged. “And I don’t do so bad in the money department, either. In fact, as I climb the corporate ladder, my salary will increase quite nicely.”

Drew frowned again. She sounded like a woman who had her future all planned out, not a woman who would marry a guy for money. But that only baffled him all the more. If she didn’t want his money, what the hell did she want badly enough to make love with him that night in Pittsburgh?

“So you have a good job?”

She nodded. “And a house.”

That’s right! He’d been to her house. “Which means you should want a prenup as much as I do.”

“Because of my house?” she laughed. “Every cent I had saved went into a down payment, and I mortgaged the rest. If you tried to take my house, I’d hand you the payment book.”

“So you need money?”

She shook her head as if disgusted with him. “How many times do I have to tell you that I have a job. A good job. A job where I can climb the ladder. I have as much of a chance of being an executive at my company as anybody. I’m fine.”

Drew shifted uncomfortably on the driver’s seat of her car. He got it. She was self-sufficient. She didn’t need him or his money. But that meant the only logical conclusion he could draw for why they’d ended up in bed was that she had been overwhelmingly attracted to him. So attracted to him she’d forgotten all about birth control. So attracted she’d fallen for stupid lines. Really fallen. She’d all but purred with happiness in his arms.

He swallowed, suddenly aware of how close they were in the confines of her tiny car. The attraction they’d felt the night they’d met at the party had not been onesided. He’d been overwhelmingly attracted to her, too. On top of that, the heavenly soft, incredibly sensual woman beside him would be spending the next eight months of weekends with him. If he didn’t get ahold of himself right now, all he would be thinking about for all eight of those months would be sex.

He parked her car in the lot beside the diner and guided her into the small restaurant. Filled with Saturday-morning patrons, the place was alive with conversation and brimming with the scents of fresh coffee, bacon and maple syrup.

“Good morning, Drew,” Elaine Johnston said. Tall and amply built, the wife of Bill Johnston, the diner’s owner, served as hostess normally, but also filled in as a waitress or cook. “And good morning to you, too, Isabella.”

“She goes by Tia now,” Drew interjected, and though Tia laughed, Drew was struck by what a smart move that had been. By telling Elaine that Tia no longed used Isabella but went by the name Tia, he subtly told the woman in contact with nearly everybody in Calhoun Corners that he knew personal things about Isabella Capriotti.

But though that was good for the charade, Drew felt an odd sensation in his gut. They were sexually attracted. She hadn’t tricked him. She didn’t need him. Hell, she didn’t want him—except sexually. Now that he’d waded through the situation and realized she’d found him as irresistible as he’d found her, he was also recognizing that if he played his cards right she could want him again. And again. And again.

As Elaine led them down the aisle between two rows of booths, Drew inhaled a sharp breath. He had to stop thinking like this.

When they were seated and Elaine was on her way to get their coffee, Tia said, “So what now?”

His answer was quick and automatic. “We continue to make people believe that we are madly in love.” But as the words came tumbling out of his mouth, he realized that if she wasn’t the problem—if she hadn’t tricked him and didn’t want anything from him—then, technically, he was the problem. He’d seduced her. He was forcing her to marry him. He was demanding a place in her baby’s life. And now he was thinking about seducing her again.

He was scum.

“We have to make people believe we’re madly in love immediately? Can’t we date?”

“We don’t have time. Wedding’s already set for two weeks from now. Besides, if we start here, right now, the rumor will get to Rayne Fegan this morning.”

“Mark’s daughter? What does she have to do with this?”

“Your dad’s heart condition isn’t the only thing in the editorials. Mark’s also written about things your brothers did as teenagers, wondering why they were never arrested and almost accusing your dad of using influence to keep them out of jail.”

“Are you kidding?”

“Mark’s writing the editorials, but Rayne is the one digging up the past. We want her to find out we’re together so she’ll check up on us and decide we’re for real, and let us alone.”

“You’ve really thought this through.”

“It’s only common sense. There was no reason for Rayne to check on your brothers except to stress out your dad. When she hears about us she’ll think she struck pay dirt for more ways to push your dad and she’ll come gunning for us. But that’s what we want. We want her to ‘accidentally’ find us looking calm and ordinary. Like this has been going on so long that we’re comfortable. So nobody questions the wedding and there’s nothing about it that stresses your dad.”

Tia nodded, then leaned back and smiled at him. Once again, the easy upward movement of her lips was very good for the charade. Very bad for Drew’s libido. Still, he knew what he had to do. Especially when he saw Ossie Burton striding toward them, an evil look on his face, as if he was about to have one hell of a time teasing Drew.

Drew’s chest tightened. He’d vowed in every bar from here to the Chesapeake Bay that he’d never seriously date a woman again, let alone get married. He was not only about to endure months of the greatest physical challenge of his life by resisting a sexual attraction that suddenly seemed as natural as breathing, but he was also about to endure months of the teasing of his life.

Nonetheless, for Ben’s sake, he reached across the table and took Tia’s hand.

Tia and Drew ate breakfast interrupted by diner patrons who popped over to say hello, and the curious stares of people not bold enough to actually come over. When they left the diner, they walked to the small grocery store and picked up a few everyday items, making sure everybody saw them doing common, ordinary things. But when they reached the flower shop, Tia saw Rayne Fegan striding toward them.

“I told you she would track us down,” Drew whispered as he put his hand on the doorknob to go inside. Rayne stopped them.

“Tia!” she said, catching Tia’s arm to keep her from entering the flower shop. “My goodness, I didn’t know you were home!”

“I’ve been home a few times since May.” As if she’d done it a million times before, she turned and smiled at Drew.

Rayne’s eyebrows rose. “Oh.”

“We’ve been dating, Miss Nosey,” Drew said. Compared to Tia, Rayne looked like somebody’s maiden aunt. Though she wore her hair in a youthful ponytail, her long bangs sloppily brushed the frames of her outdated, oversize glasses. Her too-big blouse billowed over jeans that could have been taken in four inches. “I’ll spell it out for you so you don’t have to speculate in the newspaper.”

“Very funny.”

“It’s not funny the way you’re trying to take attention off the real issues of the election by focusing on Ben’s health.”

“He’s our elected official. He set himself up to have his life scrutinized. Whether or not he can actually do the job is a part of that.”

“He’s done the job for an entire year since his heart attack,” Tia said, joining Drew in defense of her father. “If you or your dad don’t realize he’s perfectly able to keep going then you’re wrong.”

“We don’t think we are,” Rayne said. “We think the town needs a young, enthusiastic mayor and we take the responsibility of the press very seriously.”

“In other words,” Drew countered, “you love making mountains out of molehills.”

Rayne shook her head. “We’re doing what needs to be done. Anytime he wants, Ben can pull out. From our point of view he’s the one who needs to reevaluate.” She sighed and glanced at Tia. Drew noticed the way her face softened with regret as she said, “It was nice to see you.” Then she walked away.

“I get the feeling you and Rayne were friends at some point.”

“We were two outcasts in high school. I was the brainy girl, she was the daughter of the guy who could put your misdeeds in the paper. We were a natural pair.”

She turned and entered the flower shop. Drew followed her, putting his hand on the small of her back, directing her to the counter.

“What can I do for you, Tia, Drew?” Sam Jeffries said, wiping his hands on a white cloth as he approached from the table behind the counter where he had been arranging a huge funeral bouquet.

“We’re getting married in two weeks,” Drew said easily.

Sam grinned. “Well, that’s a surprise.”

Drew only smiled before he said, “Tia’s mom will be handling most of the details, but Tia wanted to take a look around first so she knows what to tell her mother to order.”

“I have catalogues,” Sam said, not missing a beat. “I’ve got everything in here from altar bouquets to the bouquet the bride tosses when she leaves the reception.”

“It’s not going to be much of a reception,” Tia said, taking her cue from Drew and speaking easily, naturally. “Just something small in my parents’ backyard.”

Sam flipped open a huge book. “Let me suggest you sift through these,” he said, pointing at some pictures. “Match what you want as centerpieces or decorations with the flowers in your mother’s gardens and it will be perfect.”

Tia agreed with Sam’s logic, but a strange feeling overwhelmed her as she glanced at the bouquets being held by the brides in the photos. Up until she actually saw these pictures, the wedding was an abstract thing. Planning not to live together except on weekends reinforced that. But knowing there would be a ceremony, that they were taking vows, buying flowers, made it all seem too real.

She was quiet on the drive home, but so was Drew. His face drawn in serious lines, he appeared to be thinking so intently about something that Tia knew he probably wouldn’t hear her if she tried to make conversation. She let her gaze slide down to the sure way he gripped her steering wheel, then to his long legs. If she had thought her car was filled with him on the drive into town, it was even worse now.

Over and over she told herself that the awareness thrumming through her was purely sexual, but she couldn’t help remembering that he was marrying her to protect her dad, his mentor. For as much as he’d tried to make her believe he was a jerk, she kept seeing that he had a soft side and she wished she wouldn’t. Every time she realized how much he was putting himself out for her father, she started seeing the Prince Charming in him again and she didn’t want to. She wanted that to be a lie. A sham. Her own imagination. She did not want him to be nice. She most certainly didn’t want to like him. He’d made himself very clear the day before when he’d told her theirs would not be a real marriage. If she liked him too much, she would end up getting hurt.

She was glad he made the excuse of needing to check in with his hands, and left her to her own devices. She didn’t even care when she saw him get into his truck and drive off. She jumped in her car and drove to her mother’s, where she spent two hours deciding everything from what color her two cousins should wear as bridesmaids to which of their friends and neighbors should be invited.

When she returned to Drew’s house to find it was still empty and there were no messages on his answering machine telling her where he was or when she could expect him back, she told herself she was grateful for his rudeness. It reminded her that he could be a real jerk.

But when another four hours passed without a word from him, that gratitude turned into absolute fury. The idiot had left her alone in his house. A house she didn’t feel at liberty to explore now that she knew he had money. She didn’t know where he was or what he was doing. If he had been in an accident, she didn’t even know to send somebody out searching for him.

When he finally arrived home, she was waiting at the door. “Where were you?”

He bestowed upon her the sort of patient male look that all but locked in her perception that he was a total idiot. “What makes you think I’m supposed to check in with you?”

“I didn’t ask you to check in with me. I’m a guest and you left me without a word. I had no idea where you were. So after I spent two hours planning our wedding with my mother, I sat here waiting for you, and I’m starving.”

“You should have just eaten without me.”

Shooting him daggers with her eyes, she turned and strode into the kitchen. “Very nice of you to tell me now that I can make myself to home.”

“I thought that went without saying, since we’re getting married.” He followed her through the swinging door into the kitchen. “I have the prenup.”

Tia stopped. The prenup. So that’s where he was. Getting the document that put an end to all the worry she had that he might think she was trying to trick him. Once she signed it, he would recognize she didn’t want his money. And she wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around him anymore.

“Great.” Tia walked to the refrigerator, extracted a bag of rolls and a package of deli meat and took them to the table where he sat. “Where do I sign?”

He handed her the agreement. “Last page.”

“Got a pen?”

“Aren’t you going to read it?”

“Should I?”

“Yes.” His voice was quiet, not at all grouchy or demanding, and she suddenly knew what was going on. Pragmatic Drew wanted her to see he wasn’t cheating her. If nothing else, she always had to give this guy credit for fairness and common sense. Only an idiot signed a legal document without reading it.

“You’re right.”

After making a sandwich, she sat at the table and quickly scanned the agreement, reading exactly what she expected to read: articles that outlined that they would each keep the property that they had when they came into the marriage and not have a claim to anything owned by the other. It was short and simple and Tia almost stopped reading, but the very last paragraph shifted in tone.

She read the article and slammed the prenup on the table. “Very funny.”

“I didn’t put any jokes in there. So you’re going to have to explain which article tickles your funny bone.”

“I told you I didn’t want your money. Yet, this agreement says I get a hundred thousand dollars on signing.”

“The hundred grand is for a house.”

“I have a house!”

“I know. But you said you have a mortgage. And I also realized that though you might make a lot of money in that job of yours in the future, as an employee at the bottom of the ladder you don’t make all that much money now. So, the hundred thousand in the agreement is my share of making sure our baby has a home.”

She considered the gesture for only a second before she said, “I don’t want it.”

“This baby is our responsibility—both of ours.” He said the words gruffly, as if he didn’t want her to make a big deal out of it. “I take my responsibilities seriously.”

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