# Manhattan Merger

Rebecca Winters

Manhattan millionaire Payne Sterling is used to being in the public eye, but his notoriety goes too far when he sees his picture on a succession of new romance novels! Payne has never posed for any portrait, so he's determined to track down the artist who's embarrassed him…. Beautiful, talented Rainey Bennet had seen Payne's photo in her brother's holiday snaps and, having no idea he was a famous entrepreneur, she thought he made perfect "hero" material!In the flesh, he's just as gorgeous - but now he's taking her to court! Until the powerful tycoon proposes a way for Rainey to pay him back!

Dear Reader,

We’re constantly striving to bring you the best romance fiction by the most exciting authors, and in Harlequin Romance® we’re especially keen to feature fresh, sparkling, emotionally exhilarating novels! Modern love stories to suit your every mood: poignant, deeply moving stories; lively, upbeat romances with sparks flying; or sophisticated, edgy novels with a cosmopolitan flavor.

All our authors are special, and we hope you continue to enjoy each month’s new selection of Harlequin Romance novels. This month we’re delighted to feature another novel with extra fizz! Bestselling author Rebecca Winters brings us a fast-paced, feel-good romance that tells both sides of the story! The heroine, Rainey, and the hero, Payne, both get their say. And the result? A gripping, emotionally insightful read!

We hope you enjoy this book by Rebecca Winters—it’s fresh, flirty and feel-good! And look out for future sparkling stories in Harlequin Romance. If you’d like to share your thoughts and comments with us, do please write to:

The Harlequin Romance Editors

Harlequin Mills & Boon Ltd.

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Or e-mail us at: tango@hmb.co.uk.

Happy reading!

The Editors

Rebecca Winters, an American writer and mother of four, is excited to be in this new millennium because it means another new beginning. Having said goodbye to the classroom, where she taught French and Spanish, she is now free to spend more time with the family, to travel and to write the Harlequin Romance® novels she loves so dearly.

Rebecca loves to hear from readers. If you wish to e-mail her, please visit her Web site at www.rebeccawinters-author.com.

Rebecca Winters has written over forty-five books for Harlequin Romance® and is an international bestselling author. Her wonderfully unique, sparkling stories continue to be immensely popular with readers around the world.

## Manhattan Merger. Rebecca Winters


## CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

## CHAPTER ONE

“UNCLE Payne?”

Thirty-three-year-old Payne Sterling glanced up from the screen of his laptop in time to see his favorite niece Catherine come flying in the study. He doubted her feet touched the ground.

His fiancée followed at a little slower pace in her wheelchair. Both women seemed panicked by something.

“You’ve got to see this!”

Catherine looked and sounded frantic as she thrust a paperback book at him.

“Easy, sweetheart.”

Puzzled, he took it from her, then gave it his full attention. To his surprise he discovered it was a romance novel of all things entitled Manhattan Merger, by Bonnie Wrigley.

Below the title was a picture of a man holding a woman in his arms. They were standing in the office of a New York City skyscraper where the Manhattan skyline was revealed in the background.

Upon a second look he realized it wasn’t just any office.

Or any man…

Even though it wasn’t a photograph, it was like looking at himself in a mirror.

He stared at it for a full minute in stunned disbelief.

“Promise you won’t tell mother I’ve been reading these, Uncle Payne. The thing is, over the last year I’ve noticed that quite a few of the men on the covers resemble you. But this one is you,” Catherine’s voice trembled. “Even his hairline is the same shape.”

He could see that.

“She’s right, Payne!” Diane cried out anxiously. “This man has your build and dark brown hair. It’s the same length. Everything is like you, even to the exact hue of your blue eyes. That’s why I told Catherine she had to show this romance to you.”

Both of them had lost color.

“He’s even dressed in the same kind of suit and shirt I’ve noticed you wear to work before, Uncle Payne! And that view out of those same kinds of windows is exactly what you see when you walk in your office. The person who did the cover has to know a lot of private things about you.

“Look!” She pointed to some items. “See that picture of a ship passing in front of a lighthouse? You have a similar picture hanging on your office wall! And what about that little picture of a bulldog propped on the desk?”

Payne had recognized those details at once, but he hadn’t wanted to say anything for fear of alarming either of them further.

The fact that he’d hired an architect to incorporate the old lighthouse at Crag’s Head into a home where he’d been living for the past few years had set off more warning bells.

He eyed his fifteen-year-old niece whose hair was the same pale gold as his sister’s. “Have you read this yet?”

“No— As soon as I showed it to Diane, we decided to bring it straight to you!”

“You did the right thing.”

Somewhere he’d heard it said everyone had a look-alike. Possibly more than one. Maybe this was a fantastic coincidence, but he couldn’t take any chances. Not after what had happened at Christmas.

“Where do you get these books, Catherine?”

“One of the maids reads them first, then gives me a bunch. When I’m through, I return them to her.”

“Which maid?”

“Nyla.”

“Catherine really shouldn’t be reading books like this, Payne,” Diane declared. “Whoever is responsible for putting you on the covers probably read a lot of trashy romances at a young age and can no longer distinguish between fantasy and reality.”

“There’s nothing trashy about them,” Catherine defended quietly. “They’re exciting stories about people falling in love. You learn so much and go so many places. I think they’re wonderful! If you or mom would ever take the time to read one, you’d be hooked too.”

Diane’s eyes sent him a private message that indicated her strong disapproval.

“Listen, Uncle Payne—don’t be angry with Nyla. I don’t want her to get into trouble. She’s the one who said I ought to bring it to your attention!

“If you say anything to mom and dad about this, they’ll make me stay with grandma and grandpa the next time they take a trip. Nyla might even lose her job.”

He shook his head. “I’m not going to jeopardize her position here. On the contrary, I want to thank Nyla for aiding and abetting you in your latest reading frenzy. It has brought something to light that needs to be dealt with right away.”

Diane trembled. “This could be another crazed woman who’s been following you around without your knowledge. There’s no question she’s been in your office, Payne. I’m afraid for you.”

His fiancée had every reason to be terrified.

Less than six months ago Diane Wylie had taken a stalker’s bullet meant for him and was now condemned to a wheelchair—perhaps permanently.

Consumed by guilt, Payne moved around the desk and hunkered down at her side. Reaching for her hand he said, “I don’t know what to believe at the moment, but if this is another demented wacko, I’m going to find out. You two stay here. I’ll be back soon.”

He stood up, stroked his niece’s pale cheek, then grabbed the romance off the desk and strode out of his brother-in-law’s study. A few minutes later he caught up with Nyla in the kitchen enjoying afternoon tea with some of the other staff.

Her expression sobered when he showed her the romance and asked where she’d bought it.

“I get them through a book club, but you can find copies people have already read at the used book store in the village. It’s called Candle Glow Books. They have everything.”

“Thank you, Nyla.”

“You’re welcome. I might as well tell you, I’ve seen your face on other covers, but your hair and eyes were always different. Until this book came in the mail, I thought it was just one of those amazing coincidences.

“I suggested Catherine say something to you about it. The likeness to you is startling! So’s the story.”

The story too?

Without wasting more time he pulled out his cell phone and called security to meet him around the back of his sister’s house.

Since the age of seventeen, Payne had been the victim of half a dozen stalking incidents which had been brought to an end through police intervention.

But last December between Christmas and New Year, a psychotic woman had managed to penetrate the Sterling compound on Long Island’s South Fork. Whether she came by water or managed to get past the guard at the gate, no one knew.

At the time, the Sterlings were having dinner for the Wylies who’d invited them to their home for brunch earlier in the day. The Wylies lived on the North Shore of Long Island and had enjoyed this exchange tradition with the Sterlings for many years.

Prior to the Christmas holidays Payne had been out of the country a great deal and had spent most it working at his office where he could catch up on the paperwork in solitude.

While immersed, his mother called him upset because he’d missed the Wylies’ brunch. Could she at least count on him for dinner, and would he please bring Diane who was in the city shopping? If she could fly back with him, then no one would be late.

Knowing how much his mother cared about these things, he agreed to come and bring Diane with him. As the two of them were walking from the car to the front porch of his parents’ home, the demented intruder had emerged from the bushes. The thirtyish-looking woman claimed to be in love with Payne. If she couldn’t have him, no other woman could either.

Payne saw the glint of metal in time to push Diane aside before the gun went off, but the stalker had poor aim. To his horror the bullet struck Diane in her lower back before he could knock the lunatic to the ground. The horrific experience had changed all their lives.

Diane had clung to him all the way to the hospital. In the fear that she was going to die, she’d told him how much she needed him, how much she’d always loved him.

He’d had no idea of her deep feelings for him. He’d never been interested in her that way, but at that point it didn’t matter because he couldn’t have abandoned her in the state she was in.

Several months later she still couldn’t walk though she retained some feeling in her legs. The doctors told her they’d done all they could do and suggested she go to a clinic in Switzerland reputed to have success with her kind of spinal injury.

Afraid of failure, Diane had flatly refused to consider it and wouldn’t be consoled. At that point Payne took stock of his life and decided that if he proposed marriage, she might be more inclined to get the help she needed.

But after their engagement was announced, she seemed to retreat further into herself, unwilling to discuss going to Switzerland. Worse, she’d developed an almost irrational fear of the two of them being shot again.

In order to reassure her, Payne had made certain new security measures had been added to protect her and the Wylies as well as everyone on the Sterling estate. His fiancée now had twenty-four-hour protection.

As for Payne, four security men accompanied him wherever he went on business. A helicopter took him to his office in Manhattan. If he had to fly overseas, he used his private jet. When he had to drive somewhere on Long Island, one of the security men chauffeured him in a bulletproof limousine with one-way glass windows.

En route to the used bookstore in Oyster Bay, he handed the novel to the retired Navy SEAL, Mac, who’d been his personal bodyguard for the last three years.

“What do you make of this?”

Mac took one look and whistled. His gray eyes darted to Payne in puzzlement before he gave it back to him. “How come you’re on the cover?”

“That’s what I intend to find out.”

While the driver looked for Candle Glow Books, Payne opened the novel to the copyright page.

Red Rose Romance Publishers, Inc., Second Avenue, New York, New York.

His eyes narrowed. He’d never heard of it, but that location was east of Central Park near the Turtle Bay Grill where he often met with overseas clients.

It appeared the book had been published two months ago.

That meant whatever party was responsible for his picture being on the cover had possessed knowledge of him long before the publication date. Most publishing houses had up to three or more years of books waiting to go to press.

There was a disclaimer.

Any characters, names or incidents in this book do not exist outside the mind of the author.

Like hell!

A grimace marred Payne’s features.

He turned the book over to read the blurb. By the time he’d digested the second sentence, his body had broken out in a cold sweat.

Secrets?

Powerful, dashing New York billionaire Logan Townsend, is hiding a painful secret from his fiancée and family.

“Good Lord,” he whispered.

When he’s involved in an accident in the Canyonlands of the American West, Dr. Maggie Osborn discovers what that secret is.

Unbeknownst to him, she puts her life in danger to save his.

But secrets have a way of getting out.

It isn’t until Logan returns to New York that he learns Maggie is keeping one from him.

On the verge of sealing the most vital merger of his existence, he’s torn between duty and desire.

Upon reading the last line, Payne felt as if someone had just walked over his grave. Convinced nothing about this book was an accident, he rolled it up in his fist.

He would willingly litter the island page by page to be rid of it. But for several obvious reasons he couldn’t do that and was forced to sit there while he attempted to contain the savage impulse.

Sam, the security man at the wheel, turned down an alley, then came to a stop at the rear of the used book store in question. Two of the security men, John and Andy, jumped out to enter the shop ahead of Payne.

It was near the closing hour on a Tuesday evening in June. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect if he’d hoped to avoid a lot of unwanted attention.

When the all clear was given, Mac covered Payne’s back as they got out of the limousine and went inside the claustrophobic shop. It was a maze of cubbyholes and narrow aisles. With novels stacked to the ceiling everywhere he turned, there was no doubt this was a paperback lover’s paradise.

The eyes of the older saleswoman behind the counter lit up at his approach. “Mr. Sterling— Good evening! I’m Alice Perry. It’s a real honor to have you in my store.” She extended her hand which he shook.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Perry,” he answered back.

“What can I do for you?”

He handed her the novel which would never lie flat again.

She took one look at it and her gaze lifted to his with excitement. “I knew this was you!” she cried. “Every romance reader who’s come in here lately has been talking about it.”

Payne groaned. “According to my niece, there are other novels besides this that appear to have my likeness on the cover.”

“Oh there are!” she blurted. “But this one…”

So neither Catherine or Nyla had exaggerated anything. The news was going from bad to worse.

“At this point there isn’t a copy of Manhattan Merger to be had anywhere on the Atlantic seaboard. My phone’s been ringing off the hook with book dealers wanting copies! Those people lucky enough to have purchased it when it first came out are holding on to it for dear life.

“I kept copies of it and those other books for myself and my daughter who helps me run the shop. Perhaps before you leave you’d be willing to sign them? We’d be so thrilled if you would.”

“I’d be happy to oblige, if I’d given my permission to appear on their covers.”

Her smile faded. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I, Ms. Perry. That’s why I’m here, to try and solve this mystery.”

“You mean they just went ahead and used your picture?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” He had to tamp down hard on his anger. “May I see them please?”

“I only have four left. They’re locked away in the back room until a book dealer from Connecticut arrives on Friday. He’s a collector and is going to pay me five thousand dollars apiece for them. Give me a moment and I’ll bring them out.”

“Only five thousand?” Mac said in a teasing whisper as the woman disappeared.

Ignoring the aside, Payne wandered over to the nearest bookshelf marked Mysteries. It was crammed with titles by various authors and sorted according to the alphabet. He pulled one out, curious to see what kind of cover was on the front.

The photograph had captured a busy street scene somewhere in London. A quick look at the copyright page gave the name of a British publisher.

He moved to another section marked Upbeat Romances published in Los Angeles. Their covers were done in cartoon caricatures.

“Here we are.”

He reshelved the book and joined the woman who’d laid the four books out on the counter for him. At first glance, he was horrified.

It was his face all right.

One of them depicted him as a Norseman with a flowing mane of white-blond hair, hazel eyes, bulging thighs and biceps twice his size. The book was called Roald’s Bride.

Another showed him as a Castilian prince in royal ceremonial robes with pitch-black hair and eyes entitled, Her Prince of Dreams.

In the third book, Undercover Love, he was a gray-eyed Royal Canadian Mountie in full red dress uniform wearing a hat that covered his hair.

The Star Grazer was the last book. It portrayed him as a man from the future with auburn hair and brown eyes.

On all of the covers he had his arms around a beautiful woman. It appeared the same person had done the artwork.

“That’s some life you lead,” came another crack from Mac, sotto voce.

Payne made no response as he looked at the spines. All four were a product of Red Rose Romance Publishers, and had been printed within the last year.

“How many publishers put out paperback romances besides Red Rose?”

“Dozens of companies throughout the world, but the ones on my shelves come mainly from the United States, England and Canada. Red Rose produces the most every year by quite a margin.”

“Have you seen my face on the covers of any romances other than Red Rose?”

“No.”

That was the only good news so far. He could hope Red Rose was a mom-and-pop outfit that probably didn’t have a large distribution base. “Do you have your romances sorted by publisher?”

“Yes.”

“Will you show me where the romance section is?”

She laughed. “It’s practically the whole shop except for the mysteries and science fiction here at the front.”

He tried hard not to reveal his shock. “Why don’t we try the Red Rose section first.”

“Follow me, Mr. Sterling.”

She led him a fourth of the way back. “It starts here and goes to the rear of the store.”

His eyes widened in incredulity. “These are all Red Rose Romances?”

“Yes. Their company has nine different lines depending on what kind of romance you’re looking for. Of course these are only the English versions. Their books are published in over a hundred languages. Something like that.”

A hundred! That meant—

“We keep a few copies in Italian and Russian for the occasional visitor,” she added.

He wondered how many times Catherine had been in here that her mother didn’t know about. Payne loved his sister Phyllis, but like their mother, she didn’t approve of a lot of things.

With her high-brow taste in the arts, music and literature, he doubted she’d ever had the curiosity to read a paperback romance. He couldn’t help but wonder if Diane disliked them on principle too.

Or maybe she’d read a few when she was a teenager and refused to admit to it. He’d like to know.

In Payne’s mind it would make Diane a more real person if she’d gone against her mother’s wishes the way Catherine had done, and could own up to it…

“How far do some of these books date back?”

“Red Rose has been in business at least forty years that I know of.”

Forty years?

He studied the voluminous amount of reading material. Evidently someone besides Nyla and Catherine had been gobbling these up by the thousands for at least four decades.

That was a long time… Too long not to be a reputable company.

“You’ll find their books listed under the separate headings hanging from the ceiling over each section. There’s something for every taste.”

“So I see,” Payne muttered.

A Touch of Romance, A Touch of Passion, A Touch of Espionage, A Touch of History, A Touch of Babies, A Touch of Royalty, A Touch of Sci-Fi/Paranormal, A Touch of Cowboy and A Touch of Humor.

“You’re welcome to browse as long as you like.”

“Thank you.”

Since she’d pulled all the books with his likeness from the shelves, there was no point in sifting through the mountains of romances. The mere thought staggered the imagination.

However he did take a book from each section to examine the covers. All of them had been done as a painting rather than a photograph. He carried them to the counter.

“I’m going to buy these nine books. The four you’re keeping I’d like to borrow for twenty-four hours.” He pulled a credit card from his wallet. “Add $20,000.00 to my bill. When the books are returned, you can credit it to my account.”

She shook her head. “I trust you to bring them back, Mr. Sterling. There’s no charge.”

“Thank you.”

He put his credit card away and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. “You’ve been very helpful,” he said, sliding it toward her. She started to make change but he told her not to bother.

“This is much too generous.”

“Humor me, please,” he said with a smile.

“If you insist. After all these years, it’s so exciting to meet the legendary member of the Sterling family!”

Payne had heard that comment one too many times in his life. However it would do no good to remind the woman that his place in the scheme of things had happened because of an accident of birth. Her place had been determined the same way.

Furthermore, he got up in the mornings, worked hard, suffered, agonized and bled before going to bed at night, just the way she and everyone else did on the planet.

Her gaze searched his. “I do hope this turns out to be an honest mistake for all concerned.”

“My sentiments exactly.” Otherwise another nightmare had begun.

She bagged the books and handed the sack to him. He tucked Manhattan Merger inside the opening.

“I promise you’ll get these back. Thanks again, Ms. Perry.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Let’s go,” he murmured to Mac.

Once they were ensconced in the limousine, he phoned Drew Wallace, his attorney, and explained what had happened. They planned to meet at Crag’s Head as soon as Drew could get away from an important dinner engagement.

Pleased Drew could come on such short notice no matter the hour, he told him he’d send the helicopter for him. This was one meeting that needed to take place tonight under strictest privacy.

When he returned to his sister’s house, he discovered Diane in the backyard looking through some wedding magazines. Catherine was using doggie treats to make their family’s golden retriever do tricks.

Though Payne loved all his nieces and nephews, he’d always had a special feeling for Catherine. Her heart melted for the less fortunates of this world whether they be animals or people.

Out of all his sister’s children, Catherine was the one who’d taken her brother Trevor’s death from leukemia the hardest. When she came into her inheritance, he had an idea she’d give it all to research in an effort to find a cure.

Since the shooting, his niece had attached herself to Diane, determined his brunette fiancée would walk again one day. Catherine’s desire to make that happen had endeared her to Payne as nothing else could have done.

While Phyllis and Trent were away with their three older children, Payne’s niece—who’d begged to stay behind—had been helping Diane and her mother with plans for their wedding. It was scheduled for August first.

Without Diane’s knowledge Payne had already cleared his calendar so he could take Diane to Switzerland for the month. They would spend their honeymoon at a special hospital reputed to perform miracles on patients with Diane’s type of injury. He was going to get her there no matter what.

After climbing out of the limousine, he handed Mac the sack before approaching his fiancée. Though her light brown eyes still looked haunted, she broke into a smile when she saw him.

He gave her a quick kiss on the lips knowing what he had to say would disappoint her, but it couldn’t be helped.

“This problem with the romance cover needs to be dealt with. I’m afraid our plans to go into New York for dinner have to be put on hold.”

“Somehow I knew you were going to say that.”

“Drew’s meeting me as soon as he can.”

“That’s good.”

“After we’ve finished talking, I’ll call you. In the meantime, Sam will run you home.”

He pushed her wheelchair to the limousine, then lifted her into the back seat. Catherine and the dog ran over to say goodbye while John folded up the chair and put it in the trunk.

“Promise you’ll phone later and tell me what’s going on?”

He couldn’t look at her in this condition without being aware of her near lifeless legs. Though he might not have pulled the trigger, he was the reason she couldn’t walk.

“You know I will.” He gave her hand a squeeze, then shut the limo door.

“’Bye, Diane,” Catherine called to her.

As the car drove off, Payne put an arm around his niece and walked her toward the house. He needed to get his laptop. “I want to thank you for being so good to Diane.”

“I want her to get better.”

“So do I.” So do I.

“She’s decided she’ll never walk again, but I told her that’s crazy because she still has feeling in her legs. I won’t let her give up! Even if she doesn’t want to go to that clinic in Switzerland, you have to take her, Uncle Payne.”

He held the door open for her and the dog. Once they’d entered the house he said, “That’s my plan.”

“While you were in the village, she broke down crying and said she didn’t want to go through another operation when it wouldn’t do her any good.”

Payne gritted his teeth. “I’m afraid seeing me on the cover of that book has brought back the horror of what she went through at Christmas.”

“Then all the more reason for her to fight with everything she’s got to get better!” Catherine blurted. “At least her doctor hasn’t said her case is hopeless. It’s not like what happened with Trevor,” her voice wobbled.

“You’re right.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you for caring so much. When your mom asked me to look in on you while they were in Mexico, I was happy to do it. Tell you what— I’ll free up some time tomorrow afternoon and take you and Diane sailing.”

“She doesn’t like to sail.”

Payne had an idea something unpleasant had happened between Catherine and Diane. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing,” came the quiet response.

“You can say that to anyone but me.”

His niece looked up at him with soulful blue eyes. “Diane got after me about reading romances. She said they’re a waste of time and don’t reflect real life.”

Until Payne had a chance to read Manhattan Merger, he would reserve judgment.

“You shouldn’t take her disapproval to heart. She’s a little down right now.”

“I’m not. She’s been like this since you got engaged.”

His brows knit together. “Like what?”

“Let’s just say she has a hard time tolerating me when you’re not around.”

“That’s not true, Catherine. She cares for you enough to have wanted your help with our wedding plans.”

“She only asked me because you hinted it might be a good idea while mom and dad were away. I never told you this, but two years ago at that Fourth of July party on the yacht, Linda and I figured out Diane was in love with you when she told us to run along and leave you two alone.”

After what Catherine had just told him, he realized his perceptive niece understood a lot more about his fiancée than he’d given her credit for.

With so much on his mind at the time, Payne had been oblivious to Diane’s interest in him. If he hadn’t left his office that night… But all the what-ifs in the world weren’t going to change the situation that had shattered lives and dreams.

After finding his laptop in the study he said, “Why don’t you ask Linda to come sailing with us tomorrow, Diane or no Diane.”

“Really?” Catherine’s face broke into a sunny smile. “Thanks, Uncle Payne. You’re the greatest!” She stood up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “I’ll invite her when we get together later.”

“You do that. See you later.”

“Okay. Come on, Lady.”

Before he left the house to join Mac in the other limo for the short drive ride to Crag’s Head, he watched the dog follow her up the stairs. The Sterlings loved their animals. Payne was no exception, but after his bullmastiff Bruno had died, he’d decided not to get another dog.

Since moving into his new home, he was gone too much. It wouldn’t be fair to keep a pet when he was away a lot of the time. They needed constant love and attention.

When he joined Mac in the limo he confided, “A few days ago I told Diane I missed having a dog and planned to get her one for a wedding present so she wouldn’t be so lonely when I’m overseas. Apparently that’s the last thing she wants, even though I pointed out it could serve as a guard dog too.”

“It’s not really surprising when you consider her mother’s allergy to them,” Mac murmured back. “Your fiancée didn’t grow up around animals.”

Payne rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Diane claims she’s been in love with me for years, but since our engagement she’s begun to realize how little we have in common. I’m afraid I’m not the perfect man she thought I was.”

Mac eyed him frankly. “Don’t hate me for saying this, but someone should have warned her about the old saying, ‘Be careful what you pray for. You might get it.’”

“You’re scary, Mac.”

“How so?”

“You just took the words right out of my mouth. Last night she broke down and admitted she doesn’t like my home.” Mac grimaced. “Instead of a dog for a wedding present, could we build an English manor along the lines of her parents’ home?

“I reminded her that as an only child she would inherit her family home one day, and could spend as much time as she wanted there after our marriage.”

Mac didn’t say anything. Neither did Payne.

After leaving his sister’s sprawling New England style home which was reminiscent of many homes in the Hamptons, he craved his eyrie at Crag’s Head.

Money could buy a lot of things he would never want, and it had brought him more pain than he’d ever thought possible. But if he could be grateful for one thing, it had allowed him to turn his ideas for the old lighthouse standing on family property into a sanctuary of primitive beauty and isolation.

Payne was an engineer, not an architect, but he’d known what he’d wanted the moment he’d glimpsed Le Corbusier’s Chapel of Notre Dame Du Haut at Ronchamps for the first time.

Using a sculptural style rather than rectilinear, the famous French architect had created two curving walls of white-washed rough masonry that met beneath a dark roof.

Incorporating those same elements with the lighthouse, Payne’s home stood like a piece of sculpture on the headland overlooking the Atlantic. The randomly punched out windows of the walls gave him all the privacy and all the view he could ever want.

He liked being able to walk around while he studied where he would lay massive fiber-optic cables in a place as difficult as New York’s labyrinthine underground.

The urban fiber networks were one of the least-developed pieces of Internet infrastructure throughout the world. Payne had always considered it a market of vast potential.

Pleased to have been responsible for putting five million kilometers of glass thread in the ground already, he was now selling rights to individual strands of fiber outright. World carriers and corporations were coming to him every day asking for more.

When he’d had the place built, he hadn’t yet met the woman he’d wanted to marry. If he’d given it any thought at all, he’d imagined that when the right one came along, she’d love it as much as he did.

Last night he’d promised Diane he would add some interior features to the second floor to make it less austere and fortress-like.

As for the lighthouse portion of his house, it had been transformed into an open workspace. It was here in his inner sanctum he used the thick rounded walls to spread out his huge maps of the tunneling beneath major American and European cities.

Considering he was in negotiations for the rights-of-way to dig in fifty more markets by next year, there was no way of gauging where it would lead in future years. But it ensured he wouldn’t run out of problems to solve. That’s what he loved to do.

That’s why he was taking Diane to Switzerland, even if he had to drag her there. And if working with those doctors didn’t produce a cure, he’d heard of another one who ran a clinic for injuries to the spine in Norway.

If Payne had already figured out how to unearth dazzling riches lying in mud beneath the streets of New York, Paris and Rome, surely he could find a way for Diane to walk again!

“Betty?” he called to Mrs. Myers. She and her husband lived in to look after his house and do light housekeeping. “I’m expecting Drew Wallace later tonight. When he gets here, let him in my study, will you please?”

“Of course. Would you like something to eat before he arrives?”

“How about a sandwich.”

“Coming right up.”

Taking advantage of the time, he sat back in his easy chair, adjusted the floor lamp light and began reading Manhattan Merger.

The opening line grabbed him by the throat.

Logan Townsend wasn’t in love with his fiancée.

From that point on it was like walking through the minefield of his own psyche where his deepest thoughts and feelings were exposed at every unexpected turn. By the time he came to the last page and closed the book, his hands were literally shaking.

He recalled something Catherine had said before he’d left for Crag’s Head.

Diane got after me about reading romances. She said they’re a waste of time and don’t reflect real life.

How wrong could Diane have been!

If Payne could be thankful for one thing, it was that Catherine hadn’t read the story yet. It would bring her even more pain.

Once more the painting on the cover leaped out at him, underscoring his shock that this book with his picture was in circulation.

“Payne?”

At the sound of Drew’s familiar voice, he levered himself from the chair. Only then did he realize he’d been too riveted to the well-written story to notice Betty had brought him a tray of food some time ago. Unfortunately his appetite had left him.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“Good grief. You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“I wish that were the case. A ghost I could deal with,” he muttered grimly.

Payne handed him the book. “I just finished reading it. No one, and I mean no one, could have reached down into my soul to pull things out the way this author did. I’m talking secret thoughts and feelings here.”

His attorney took it from him and studied the cover. “There’s no doubt about it. The person who did this artwork used a picture or photograph of you. Let’s see the other books.”

Payne emptied the sack onto his desk. Drew examined the covers of all the books.

When he eventually looked up he said, “Every day of life your picture appears somewhere in the newspapers or tabloids. The public has free access. That means you’ll always be a target for unsolicited attention.

“But to find a painted picture of you on the cover of a book without your express written permission is a legal matter, never mind that the person responsible might or might not be a stalker.”

“So you don’t believe this could be a coincidence?”

Drew pursed his lips. “You have an aura that goes everywhere with you. Whoever did this painting caught your essence as well as the outer shell. I’ve a hunch this person has met you before, probably at your office.”

Payne agreed, still haunted by the story. “I doubt the artist and the author are the same person, but I suppose it’s possible,” he theorized. “Regardless, something needs to be done right away. My niece and fiancée are terrified.”

“With good reason,” his attorney came back. “I admit I don’t like this either.” His thick brows met in a frown. “Rest assured I’ll look into it first thing in the morning, then get back to you. I’ll take these with me.” He scooped up the books and put them in the sack.

“I promised the woman at the bookstore she’d get the four books back with my picture on them by Thursday at the latest.”

“No problem.”

Payne walked him to the north door which led to the pad where the helicopter was waiting. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

“It was my pleasure. The sooner we find out if we need to call in the FBI, the better.”

As he closed the door, Payne wasn’t sure anything earthly could help. Not when the author knew things about him no one knew but God…

## CHAPTER TWO

LORRAINE Bennett, known to most people as Rainey, had just set everything up to paint when her phone rang. It was only eight-twenty a.m.

Since she paid extra on her phone bill to avoid taking telemarketing calls, she figured it was Barbara Landers, one of the secretaries who worked for Mr. Goldberg, Rainey’s boss at Global Greeting Cards.

Barb was the same age as Rainey, and single. They’d hit it off the first day they were introduced. Since then they’d often eaten lunch or dinner together.

Through Barbara, who was a native New Yorker, Rainey had met a lot of her friends at weekend parties. A couple of guys had already asked her to other parties and films.

Ken Granger, another guy who lived in her building and was clerking for a law firm, had taken her to dinner several times. Rainey’s mother didn’t need to worry that her daughter lacked for a social life.

Stepping away from the easel, she walked over to her desk and picked up the receiver.

“Rainey Bennett Fine Art Studio.”

“Rainey? It’s Don Felt again.”

“Oh— Hi, Don!”

He was the head of the art department at Red Rose Romance Publishers. Only yesterday he’d phoned her about a new project, and had already faxed her the artwork sheets she needed to get started.

Between commissions from Global Greeting Cards and Red Rose, she had more work than she could handle at the moment. But of course she would never say no to a new project. This was her life and her livelihood!

“Sorry to bother you this early.”

“This isn’t early for me. I’ve already had my morning run in the park. What can I do for you?”

“Could you give me the name and phone number of the agency in Colorado you used for the male model on that sensational cover of Manhattan Merger?”

Her gaze clicked to the wall where she’d hung her oil paintings. Rainey was flattered that five out of the eight she’d done with him as the hero had already been sold to the authors who’d written the books featuring him on their covers. The ninth was in the beginning stages.

She had to admit those paintings were sensational even if she said so herself. However it was the man on the covers who made them so riveting. Rainey had only been the vessel to put him there.

“I didn’t find him through a modeling agency, Don.”

The artist in Rainey had been drawn to the face and body of a stranger whose rugged male beauty made her want to put him on every cover she did for Red Rose Romance.

It seemed the sales on those books had been phenomenal. The company had sent her red roses several times congratulating her for her excellent work.

Even better, the company had increased her salary to the point that she’d finally been able to move to New York and live on what she made doing artwork for them and the greeting card company.

“So—this masculine heartthrob who is setting hundreds of thousands of female hearts aflutter around the world is a figment of your imagination?”

“No.” She sucked in her breath. “I’m afraid even my psyche couldn’t dream up anyone that gorgeous.”

“Then he must be a boyfriend you’ve been keeping secret from me.”

She chuckled. “Don’t I wish. To be honest, I have no idea who the man is.”

After a slight pause, “Then how did you get permission to paint him?”

“I didn’t. About two years ago I saw him in a photograph. His looks were so incredible, I found myself sketching him every time I went near my drawing board.”

“Whose photograph?” he asked without preamble.

“My brother’s.”

“Do you still have it?”

“It was never mine to take. The only reason I happened to see it was because I was helping my mom clean his bedroom before he came home to go back to college.

“You know me and how I work. I often get ideas from people I see on the street or in a photo or some such thing. Later on if a face haunts me enough, I end up sketching it from memory.

“That’s what happened in this case. A third of the covers I’ve painted for Red Rose have been done without models.”

“I know, and there’s never been any kind of problem. Maybe there isn’t now.”

She gripped the receiver a little tighter. “What’s wrong, Don?”

“Possibly nothing. The legal department sent me a memo asking for the information.”

She blinked. “Legal department… Do you know what this is about?”

“Not yet. But since you admit you saw this face in a photograph, humor me and talk to your brother.”

“Don—you don’t understand. The man in that picture was simply one of a group of vacationers. Craig is a whitewater river guide. Every summer he takes dozens of groups on float trips down the Colorado, and always gets a picture of them at the place where they put in.

“This is his sixth year. He must have close to a hundred group photos lying in a box in his bedroom closet. I have no idea how old that picture even was.”

“Are they dated?”

“Probably. I wasn’t paying any attention at the time. He plans to open up his own sporting goods store one day soon and use them for wall decor along with trophy fish and elk he’s had mounted. He might remember something unique about a particular trip, but I doubt very much he could recall a name.”

“Will you ask him anyway? Then get back to me with the information A.S.A.P.?”

“It’s the end of June, Don. He’s been running rivers for the last three weeks. All I can do is leave a message at Horsehead Whitewater Expeditions. That’s the company Craig works for.

“They’ll get word to my brother to call me, but it might take anywhere from a few days to a week before I hear from him.”

There was another silence that increased her nervousness.

“Tell you what,” Don murmured at last. “I’m going to contact the legal department and find out why they’re asking questions. Then I’ll get back to you. Will you be there for a while?”

“Yes. I’m finishing up the painting for the cover of The Bride’s Not-So-White Secret, and will send it over to your office by courier the day after tomorrow.”

“Excellent. I’ll look forward to seeing it. Expect to hear from me soon.”

After they’d clicked off, she returned to the painting in question propped on her easel. Unfortunately the reason for Don’s phone call had taken the zip out of her morning.

Instead of reaching for the brush to fill in the last bit of lace on the bridal gown, she walked over to the painting she’d done for Manhattan Merger.

There he was. The embodiment of her dreams come to life on a piece of canvas:

Rich dark brown hair that looked vibrant to the touch.

Nordic blue eyes that seemed to envision things no one else could even imagine.

Rugged facial features denoting a life of hard work, sacrifice and triumphs.

The build and stance of a conquerer beneath his business suit. Someone who dared to explore new frontiers.

A man who hadn’t yet been transformed by a woman’s love…

Perhaps because his total persona had enchanted her, she’d managed to breathe life into him. Enough life that she’d just been told this particular cover had taken first prize among all the covers on romance novels published by the various companies in the U.S. over the last twelve months.

The romance writing industry was going to present her with an award in August. Bonnie Wrigley, the author, would also receive an award for writing Manhattan Merger, chosen the best romance novel from the Touch of Romance line.

Much as Rainey was thrilled by this honor, she coveted this particular rendering of the man in the painting too much to part with it.

When Bonnie Wrigley had made inquiries to the art department for its purchase, Rainey had told Don it wasn’t for sale. But she’d urged him to tell Ms. Wrigley that if it happened Rainey was the artist chosen to do another cover for her, she could have that painting for a minimal fee.

The phone rang again. Rainey rushed to answer it.

“Don?”

“No. It’s Grace Carlow, the senior attorney in the legal department at Red Rose Publishing. I just got off the phone with Don and decided to call you myself.”

Though the window air conditioner worked well, Rainey felt perspiration bead her forehead.

“Thanks for getting back to me so fast. I have to admit I’m a little anxious.”

“After talking to Don, I think we’re going to be all right. Where are you?”

“Near Eighty-Sixth Street and Lexington.”

“That’s good. Can you be at my office by ten?”

Rainey’s green eyes widened. “You mean today?”

“Absolutely. The sooner we put out this fire, the better.”

That didn’t sound good.

“I’ll explain when you get here. Come to the second floor. Make a left. I’m at the end of the hall.”

The line went dead.

With heart pounding, Rainey showered and dressed in a straw colored wraparound skirt and pale blue cotton top. She brushed her gilt-blond hair which had been styled in a feather cut, slid on sandals and flew out the door of her furnished studio apartment.

There was no elevator, however the stairs were carpeted. She hurried down three flights to the entrance of the pre-World War II building, calling out hello to several people who lived there.

She’d been lucky to find a place this close to the Metropolitan Museum. Her rent might be horrible, and the landlord didn’t allow pets which forced her to leave her dog behind with her parents. However this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

If things didn’t work out and her commissions fell off, she’d go back to Colorado. But she didn’t anticipate that happening anytime soon.

So far the conversation with the attorney had sounded the only discordant note since she’d moved here four months ago.

After living in a small town all her life, she felt tiny walking between the skyscrapers. New York was like being in a different universe with every race and type of person represented. She loved the explosion of humanity amid the famous landmarks. Rainey loved the smells and sounds.

She loved Manhattan.

There was a pulse throbbing here. She was now a part of it. That’s what made every day exciting.

Until today.

Since the phone call she’d had this awful pit in her stomach.

What if she’d done something so terrible, her happiness would be taken away?

Fear made her walk faster.

She entered Red Rose Publishers and took the stairs to the second floor. After reaching the end of the hall she entered the legal department and walked over to the front desk.

“I’m Lorraine Bennett. Grace Carlow is expecting me.”

A young female receptionist told her to go on back to the first door on her left. Rainey complied.

“Good! You’re on time.” The attorney waved her inside. She was a tall, big-boned woman who was probably in her early sixties. She wore a white pantsuit with a black and white houndstooth print blouse. From the crown of her upswept blond hair she pulled down her glasses and studied Rainey for a moment.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“You don’t look a day over twenty-one. Lucky you. Call me Grace.” She smiled and extended her hand which Rainey shook. “Sit down.”

Rainey took the chair opposite her desk. “I take it I’ve painted a celebrity by accident.”

The woman made a funny noise in her throat. “Ever heard of the Sterling bank of America?”

She bit her lip. “Who hasn’t?”

“Ever heard of Sterling Shipping lines?”

Rainey’s body started to feel heavier in the chair. She nodded.

“Ever hear of U.S. Supreme Court Justice Richard Sterling?”

“Yes,” Rainey whispered.

“Ever hear of Senator Phyllis Sterling-Boyce? Ambassador Lloyd Sterling? Rear Admiral Daniel Sterling?”

Her eyes closed tightly for a moment. “Of course.”

By now Rainey was squirming.

Grace handed her a recent publication of World Fortune Magazine. “The whole lot of them don’t even count compared to this Sterling.”

Rainey took one look at the man on the cover and gasped.

King of Glass New York Billionaire-soon-to-be-Trillionaire Payne Sterling discovers ancient burial ground while mucking about with fiber-optic cable in his underworld kingdom close to Wall Street.

She read the caption twice before she studied the man in hard hat and jeans resting against an enormous cable.

Like pure revelation she understood why she’d been so drawn to him that she’d felt compelled to put his face and body to canvas.

“Oh boy.” Rainey’s voice shook before she handed the magazine back to Grace.

The attorney eyed her with compassion. “Oh boy is right. He’s the embodiment of one of the sons of the Earl of Sterling who left England for America to build an empire of his own.”

She tapped the cover. “This one shuns publicity like it was the plague of mankind, but he’s so damned attractive it still comes after him, innocently or otherwise.”

She winked at Rainey who groaned out loud.

“Cynthia Taft, the newest attorney to join our staff, handled Manhattan Merger while I was on a leave of absence. She came to us from Los Angeles and probably didn’t catch the likeness because Payne Sterling is a celebrity in a very different pond than that of Hollywood.

“When I returned, I noticed his likeness on the cover and brought it to Claud’s attention. However he said not to worry about it because there’d been no trouble with the other covers. What was done, was done, and this wouldn’t be the first time an artist had unwittingly painted a cover that resembled a real person.”

“Except that I did draw his face from memory,” Rainey admitted.

“According to Don, you do that quite often.”

“Yes.”

“As I told you on the phone, I think we’re going to be fine, but it will take the rest of the day to prepare our case.”

Her pulse raced faster. “Case?”

“His attorney has already filed papers with the court. A judge is going to hold a closed door hearing tomorrow at two o’clock, so we have our work cut out.”

“What?” Rainey cried out aghast. “You mean he’s suing me?”

“You, the author Bonnie Wrigley and Red Rose Publishers.”

“Good heavens—”

Grace’s eyebrows lifted. “Don’t forget you’re dealing with a Sterling. The name moves mountains. But not to worry. He won’t win.

“By the way, who’s the person at Global Greeting Cards who will give us an affidavit to the effect that you haven’t put Mr. Sterling on any of their products?”

That was easy. “Saul Goldberg.”

She nodded. “I know Saul. Good man. All right. First things first. If we can get your mother and brother here in twenty-four hours, let’s do it. Red Rose will be paying their expenses.”

“Mom could come. But I don’t know if it’s possible to reach my brother in time.”

Grace eyed her intently. “Try. Mr. Sterling’s attorney, Drew Wallace, is the best there is if you know what I mean. He’s pulled this in the hope of catching us un-prepared, but we’ll show him.”

Rainey admired the other woman’s grit. Though she didn’t know anything about Grace Carlow, she had an idea the attorney was actually enjoying this.

“I’ll have to phone the company Craig works for and see if they can find him. My mother knows the number.”

“As long as you’re phoning her, tell her to bring that photograph with her. One more thing. Don said you do preliminary sketches before you start your paintings. Where are your drawings of Mr. Sterling?”

She gave Grace a sheepish glance. “The old ones are stored at my parents’ home.”

“Do you have pictures of them on disk?”

“No, only the finished portraits. Those disks are at my apartment.”

“I see. Tell your mother to bring the drawings too. When you get back to your apartment, burn the new ones!” she fired.

Rainey could weep for the sketches she’d done of him in cowboy gear as recently as three days ago. Sketches that would never appear on another book cover.

“Use my phone while I have a talk with Cynthia who’s trying to track down Bonnie Wrigley. I’ll be back in a minute to depose you.”

As soon as Grace left the room, Rainey hurried around the desk to call home. It was only quarter after eight in Grand Junction. Her father was a dentist and had probably left for his office already. He would have to get his partner to cover for him so he could drive her mom to the Denver airport with the requested items.

Later in the year, after all his little patients were back in school, her folks had plans to fly out to New York. They were going to spend time taking in the sights, then rent a car and drive Rainey through New England to see the turning of the leaves.

As it stood, her mom, and possibly her brother, were going to get an unexpected sneak preview of New York from the inside of a courtroom.

“Good news,” Grace announced ten minutes later. “Bonnie Wrigley will be at our office in the morning. How are things on your end?”

“Mom will fly in tonight with the items we need. The company Craig works for knows where he is and will get back to my father. Dad will call your office to let us know what’s happening.”

“Excellent. What do you want for lunch? They have great goulash and cheesecake at the deli down the street.”

“That sounds good.”

“Are you a coffee drinker?”

“No. Water or juice is fine.”

She nodded before buzzing her secretary.

“All right.” Grace sat forward with her fingers interlinked on top of the desk. “What Mr. Wallace will do is try to show that Red Rose Publishers willfully broke the law by using his client’s likeness on the covers for monetary gain without obtaining his permission.

“He’s asked us to bring the figures on the sales of those books to show that revenues went up when his client appeared on the covers.”

“This is all my fault,” Rainey whispered, feeling more and more ill by the moment. “He should be taking me to court, not the company.”

“We’re a family here at Red Rose. We defend our own, and we’ll prove it was an honest mistake. The worst to happen will be that we’re barred from using Mr. Sterling’s likeness on any more covers.

“It’s a shame, really,” she added. “Though he’s responsible for developing a whole new world-wide infrastructure, ninety-nine percent of our romance readership has no idea that Mr. Payne Sterling exists. All they care about is the man on those covers who is drop-dead gorgeous.”

Rainey averted her eyes. “He is that.”

“And you’re the remarkable artist who brought him to breathtaking life. Manhattan Merger ranks among the ten bestselling novels ever put out at Red Rose. That speaks highly for you and Bonnie Wrigley who wrote the terrific story in the first place. Red Rose is lucky to have both of you on the team.”

“Thank you. I hope you’ll still be saying that when the hearing is over.”

“I’m not worried. The truth will set us free, my dear. Why don’t you start by telling me the process you went through from the moment Don phoned you about Manhattan Merger until you shipped off your painting to New York. Don’t worry about dates. He has already supplied me with everything I need in that regard.”

Without preamble Rainey explained how she worked up a project. Grace interjected a question here and there. Lunch came and went. Still they talked. At three the phone rang through to Grace’s office.

It was Rainey’s father on the phone to tell her Craig’s company had flown him to Las Vegas by helicopter and he would be arriving at JFK airport before midnight.

Grace’s eyes lit up at that news. “Your brother will be one of the key witnesses in your defense. I couldn’t be more pleased to know he’s coming. This is going even better than I expected.”

“If you say so,” Rainey murmured.

“I do. Tomorrow morning we’ll assemble here at eight-thirty in the conference room down the hall. I’ll rehearse what’s going to happen and prepare your mother and brother for the kinds of questions Mr. Wallace will ask during cross-examination. Your job will be to perform for Mr. Wallace.”

Rainey frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I have a hunch he’ll show you a picture of a man or woman you’ve never seen before, then ask you to sketch them from memory. He’ll supply you with a sketch pad and pencils.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

“Of course not.”

“What should I wear?”

“The outfit you have on is fine.”

Rainey got up from the chair. “Thank you so much for your help. I’ll never be able to pay you back.”

“This is part of my job.”

“I’m still grateful to you. See you in the morning.”

On the way back to her apartment, Rainey stopped to buy food and flowers before hurrying home to clean and get things ready for her family.

Her mother arrived by taxi at seven p.m., her brother at eleven. He’d come with his backpack and bed roll which turned out to be a blessing. Her mom could use the hide-a-bed and Rainey would sleep on the futon.

She would have given anything if their reunion could have happened under different circumstances. The idea that a New York billionaire was suing her and Red Rose Publishers was like her worst nightmare.

Before they all went to bed, Rainey sorted through the pile of photographs to find the one that had gotten her into so much trouble. When she finally came across it and showed it to her brother, he remembered the man, but not the name.

“What was he like, Craig?”

“He was in a group of twenty people. I do recall he was congenial, fascinated by everything and seemed totally at home on the water.”

“Nothing else?”

“There is one thing that stood out,” her brother murmured. “When I take people on a float trip, I mentally pick someone in the group I could count on to help in an emergency. He was the one I chose. Most people panic a little at some point on the river, but he never did.”

After hearing Craig’s testimonial, Rainey couldn’t equate the man she’d painted with the person who could bring financial ruin to so many lives.

Grace had done her best to reassure Rainey things would be all right, but she had a hard time believing it. During the night she’d broken down sobbing. So, apparently, had Bonnie Wrigley who’d shown up in the conference room the next morning with drawn features and puffy eyes.

This was the first time they’d met each other. The minute the two women saw each other, they went out in the hall to commiserate in private.

At this point Rainey’s guilt had increased a hundredfold. If it hadn’t been for her cover, there would be no suit. Now poor Bonnie was going to have to explain how she dreamed up Manhattan Merger, where she got her ideas.