“I wish it was possible to marry you and live happily ever after. But it isn’t.”

Holly sat up. “I have to go.”

His comment had put a wedge between them. Graham realized he’d spoken with that intent. Don’t stop her from leaving, he ordered himself. But his hands operated on their own, reaching to stroke her back. She shivered in response.

“Kiss me good-night?” he asked.

His heartbeat quickened with the moment’s suspense as she fought a losing battle within herself. The fact that she didn’t stand a chance of winning it brought a fierce pleasure. He’d won this battle, he thought, as she leaned down, bringing her lips to his.

But would he win the war she waged against his bachelorhood?

Dear Reader,

Welcome back to Special Edition, where a month of spellbinding reading awaits you with a wonderful lineup of sophisticated, compelling August romances!

In bestselling author Jodi O’Donnell’s memorable THAT’S MY BABY! story, When Baby Was Born, a pregnant woman with amnesia meets a cowboy she’ll never forget! Beloved author Ginna Gray sweeps us away with another installment of her miniseries, A FAMILY BOND. In her emotional book In Search of Dreams, a woman with a scandalous past tries to say no to the man who vows to be in her future. Do you think a reunion that takes seventeen years to happen is worth waiting for? We’re sure you’ll say yes when you read When Love Walks In, Suzanne Carey’s poignant story about a long-ago teenage passion that is rekindled—then a secret is exposed. When the hero of Carole Halston’s Because of the Twins… needs help caring for his instant brood, the last thing he expects is a woman who turns his thoughts to matrimonial matters, too! Also this month is Jean Brashear’s Texas Royalty, in which a tough, once-burned P.I. seeks revenge on the society girl who had betrayed him—until she manages to rekindle his desires again! And finally, Patricia McLinn kicks off her compelling new miniseries, A PLACE CALLED HOME, with Lost-And-Found Groom, about a treacherous hurricane that brings two people together for one passionate live-or-die night—then that remembered passion threatens to storm their emotional fortresses once and for all.…

All the best,

Karen Taylor Richman

Senior Editor

Because of the Twins…
Carole Halston

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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To my niece, Robin, mother of adorable twins, Hunter and Justin.

Books by Carole Halston

Silhouette Special Edition

Keys to Daniel’s House #8

Collision Course #41

The Marriage Bonus #86

Summer Course in Love #115

A Hard Bargain #139

Something Lost, Something Gained #163

A Common Heritage #211

The Black Knight #223

Almost Heaven #253

Surprise Offense #291

Matched Pair #328

Honeymoon for One #356

The Baby Trap #388

High Bid #423

Intensive Care #461

Compromising Positions #500

Ben’s Touch #543

Unfinished Business #567

Courage To Love #642

Yours, Mine and… Ours #682

The Pride of St. Charles Avenue #800

More Than He Bargained For #829

Bachelor Dad #915

A Self-Made Man #950

The Wrong Man…the Right Time #1089

Mrs. Right #1125

I Take This Man—Again! #1222

Child Most Wanted #1254

Because of the Twins… #1342

Silhouette Romance

Stand-In Bride #62

Love Legacy #83

Undercover Girl #152

Sunset in Paradise #208

Silhouette Books

To Mother with Love 1992

“Neighborly Affair”

CAROLE HALSTON

is a native of south Louisiana, where she lives with her seafaring husband, Monty, in a rural area on the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain, near New Orleans. Her favorite pastime is reading, but she also gardens and plays tennis. She and Monty are camping enthusiasts and tow their twenty-six-foot travel trailer to beautiful spots all over the United States.

Fans can write Carole at P.O. Box 1095, Madisonville, LA 70447.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Chapter One

“Hello. Is anyone here?” called a woman’s voice from the outer office. Then, in a more irritable tone she said, “No, Jennifer! Don’t sit on the floor! Justin, hold on to Aunt Lena’s hand!”

These instructions were met with childish whimpers of resistance, leading Graham to surmise that his visitor had a couple of small kids in tow. He got hurriedly to his feet and headed for the door. It was noon and his secretary, Angela, had gone to lunch. She was the mother of three and an expert on kids, so Graham relied on her to protect the premises from being trashed on those occasions—rare, but memorable—when a client brought his or her offspring along.

Graham was at a total loss when it came to dealing with children—an understandable deficiency, since he hadn’t spent much time in the company of small fry. The younger of two boys, he’d grown up with virtually no contact with infants or toddlers. It was silly, but Graham regarded the whole notion of fatherhood as extremely intimidating, feelings he always owned up to when questioned on the subject by women he dated.

As he headed down the hall to the outer offices, he reflected on his unmarried state and wondered whether his candor on the subject of children had acted as a roadblock, preventing any of his romantic involvements from leading to marriage. He’d been thinking about this more and more since he’d turned thirty recently.

Only once had he proposed, more than four years ago. The words “Will you marry me?” had popped out in a moment of passion during his most intimate relationship.

He never dwelled on that memory, which still twinged.

“Can I help you?” he asked from the doorway to the outer office.

His unexpected visitor was a stranger, an attractive blond woman in her fifties who looked as harried as she’d sounded. Dressed smartly in a suit, she definitely wasn’t your stereotypical doting aunt, but he assumed, since she’d referred to herself as Aunt Lena, that the two preschool children with her must be her niece and nephew. Or, more likely, her great-niece and great-nephew. Both of them appeared to be unhappy campers, tugging to pull free of her firm grip on their small hands.

“Are you Graham Knight, the architect?” she inquired.

“Yes, I am—”

She’d turned her attention to the children. “Justin and Jennifer, will you please stand still? If you’ll behave yourselves for five minutes, Aunt Lena will buy you an ice cream.”

“I don’t want an ice cream,” Justin whined, tugging harder.

“Me, neither.” Jennifer sank down on the carpet and proceeded to throw a tantrum, kicking the floor with her patent-leather shoes.

Graham didn’t budge from the doorway. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the little girl’s loud wailing. “Would you care to make an appointment?”

“What a fiasco!” His prospective client sighed. “I should have called you in advance or written a letter, I suppose. I’m Lena Booth.” She had to shout, too, over the racket Jennifer was making. “Heather Booth’s aunt. I believe you and Heather dated four or five years ago. You remember her?”

“Why, yes, I remember Heather well.” She was the woman he’d proposed to, the woman who’d turned him down and broken off with him shortly afterward.

“Jennifer and Justin are Heather’s children. They’re twins.”

Heather’s children? Graham regarded the small girl and boy with new perspective, adjusting to their identity. Justin, brown-haired with brown eyes, didn’t resemble his mother, but Jennifer had Heather’s blond hair and blue eyes. She would probably be a pretty little girl if her face weren’t contorted with the fit she was throwing.

“If I let you go, will you promise to behave for a few minutes while Aunt Lena has a conversation with Mr. Knight?” Lena Booth said, addressing her charges. “You can watch the pretty fish in the aquarium.”

Jennifer promptly quieted, nodding.

“I’ll be good,” Justin mumbled sulkily.

When she had released their hands, the little boy walked over toward the aquarium, as prompted, but his sister sidled in the opposite direction, toward Angela’s workstation. Graham watched her nervously.

“Heather never mentioned having an aunt who lived on the North Shore,” he said to Lena Booth, taking for granted she would understand that he was referring to the North Shore of Lake Pontchartrain.

“I don’t live in Louisiana. I live in Jackson, Mississippi. I drove here today specifically to meet you and introduce you to the twins.”

Graham frowned at her in puzzlement. Why the dickens did she think he would want to meet Heather’s children? “Heather told you about me?”

“Oh, yes. I threatened to contact you much sooner, when she came back to Jackson pregnant and pleased as punch with herself. But I didn’t. Now I wish I had. I regretted my mistake even more when I had you investigated recently and confirmed what a decent man you are. Justin, stop doing that! You’ll scare the fish!”

Justin was slapping his palms on the glass front of the aquarium, making loud smacking sounds.

“Why contact me? And why on earth did you have me investigated?” Graham asked in bafflement.

“You really don’t have a clue, do you?” She shook her head, her expression oddly pitying. “Do your math. The twins are three and a half years old. Add nine months and then backtrack in time. Jennifer, leave the computer alone!”

Graham glanced blindly over at the little girl, who was busy punching keys on Angela’s keyboard. “Now wait just a minute!” he exclaimed, wagging his hand at Lena Booth. “You’re not trying to tell me—”

“I’m afraid so,” she said simply. “Heather had her heart set on being a mom, but she didn’t want the complication of a husband. Nor did she like the idea of using a sperm bank. She wanted to make sure she was getting sound genes for her child. She was planning on having one baby, mind you, not two.”

Graham clutched both sides of the doorframe, shaking his head from side to side in denial. It dawned on him that Heather’s aunt was speaking of her niece with sadness as well as disapproval.

“Good God, has something happened to Heather?” he asked.

Lena nodded. “She was on vacation with the man she was dating. They’d gone to Italy. There was a terrible automobile accident. Neither of them survived.”

Even in his state of shock and horror, Graham realized she’d carefully chosen her words so as not to state in the children’s hearing that their mother had died.

“Poor kids,” he murmured. “They’ve been told?”

“Yes. In euphemistic terms. They miss Heather, of course, but they spent most of their waking hours with a daytime nanny. As you can judge for yourself, they’ve been raised without any discipline.”

Graham looked helplessly over at Jennifer, who was now busily pulling out drawers at Angela’s workstation. Justin had stopped banging on the aquarium but had his face pressed against the glass, mouth open and tongue hanging out.

His kids? No way. There had to be some mistake. Please, God, let me wake up and discover this is a bad dream, Graham implored silently.

“Of course, you’ll want some scientific proof,” Lena stated, as though reading his panicky thoughts. “Especially if you were extremely careful and took precautions yourself during your affair with Heather.”

Graham figured his sick expression told its own tale, but he elaborated, “She told me she was on the Pill. And showed me a recent lab report giving her a clean bill of health. She said she’d just taken out a work disability insurance policy that required her to prove she was disease-free.”

“The part about the insurance policy was true.”

“This is straight out of some bad movie! What the devil am I supposed to do?” Graham answered his own question before she could speak. “Naturally, I’ll take financial responsibility. If it turns out I really was the sperm donor,” he added in an undertone, so the children could not hear.

“Frankly, after seeing you face-to-face, I don’t think there’s much doubt. Have you looked closely at Justin? I’ll bet you looked a lot like he does now when you were his age.” She glanced over at her great-nephew, who’d lost interest in the aquarium and was now busy clearing a low table of the magazines neatly arranged on its surface. “For your mother’s sake, I hope you were better behaved. Justin, don’t throw the magazines on the floor! Just turn the pages gently and look at the pictures!”

“Justin,” Graham said sternly.

Surprisingly the little boy raised his head, seeming to focus attention on Graham for the first time. Graham’s heart sank as he gazed into a boyish face that was probably a replica of his own face when he was a youngster of three years and six months.

Once she saw that Justin was engaged in the task of restocking the magazines and was, like his sister, paying the adults in the room no mind, Lena confirmed in a low voice, “See what I mean?” Her tone held sympathy. “I’m really sorry my niece put you in this bind. In her defense, she never intended for you to be any the wiser.”

“What she did was wrong! It was downright immoral.”

“I agree. And I would have informed you against her wishes that you were a father, but Heather convinced me not to. She insisted she wasn’t cheating you by keeping you ignorant. She said she’d made sure in advance that you weren’t one of those men who wanted a family.”

“God…” Graham put both hands up to his head as though he could jump-start his numbed brain to come up with some magic solution. “Before you go, give me your address and phone number. We’ll talk later, maybe tonight. I’ll start sending you monthly checks.”

Her expression had turned pitying again. She glanced at the children, still busily playing, and said, “Graham, I didn’t come here today to get money for child support. I’m quite a well-to-do woman. Also very busy running a large corporation in Jackson. I can’t take on raising Justin and Jennifer. I’m past the age of becoming a mom, and lack the patience. It wouldn’t be fair to them.”

“Who’s going to raise them? Heather’s parents?”

“Obviously Heather never told you much about them or you wouldn’t even suggest the idea. Mildred and Bill—Bill’s my brother—divorced when Heather was three. She shuttled back and forth between them, poor darling. They’re both on their third or fourth marriage now. It’s hard to keep track. I won’t go into the details except to say that Justin and Jennifer would be far better off in a good foster home than with either of their maternal grandparents.”

“A foster home! Isn’t there another relative?”

“Not on Heather’s side. There’s a married cousin, Andy, who’s stable, but he’s currently living in a foreign country.” She raised her eyebrows. “Your parents perhaps?”

Graham immediately rejected that suggestion. “My parents run a hardware store that they own in Picayune, Mississippi. Plus they have their hobbies and interests. No way would I ask them to raise a couple of young kids at their stage in life. My brother is divorced.”

Lena made no reply, but just gazed at him sympathetically. Panic bloomed inside Graham at what she was surely considering as his only option.

“I can’t raise them,” he told her, pointing to himself. “I’m single. And I know nothing about bringing up kids.”

Still she said nothing. The panic strengthened into an emotion more akin to terror.

“I live in a two-bedroom condo and use one of the bedrooms as my home study,” he went on, presenting his case as if it would convince any reasonable person. “There aren’t any children living in the whole complex. It just wouldn’t be a suitable environment. I would be a lousy father.”

“I’m not so sure about that. You might be the best thing that ever happened to Justin and Jennifer and, one would hope, vice versa.”

“Look at Jennifer!” Justin shouted, chortling. Graham had been dimly aware that the little boy had completed his mission of throwing all the copies of Architectural Digest on the floor and had climbed up onto the sofa and was using it like a trampoline, jumping up and down.

“Jennifer, don’t do that!” scolded Lena as she rushed over to Justin’s sister, who’d discovered Angela’s plastic tube of hand cream. The little girl had removed the cap and was holding the tube aloft, upside down, squeezing out a long strand of cream.

The whole scene became surreal for Graham. It was beyond comprehension that he would be expected to deal with these two pint-size vandals. Supporting them financially was one thing, but take them home with him and turn them loose in his condo? “No way,” he murmured in a tone of despair.

Lena wrested the tube from Jennifer’s hands, and Graham braced himself for a howl, but Jennifer seemed satisfied with patting one small patent leather shoe in the blob of pink cream that had fallen to the carpet.

“That was very naughty, Jennifer.”

“I’m not always naughty,” the little girl said. “Mary says I can be a little angel sometimes.”

“Mary was their daytime nanny,” Lena explained to Graham.

“Can we go and have ice cream now?” Justin asked, leaping off the sofa. He ran over to his great-aunt.

“I thought you didn’t want ice cream,” she replied.

“I do! I want strawberry.”

“I want vanilla with chocolate syrup and sprinkles,” said Jennifer.

Graham suppressed a shudder at a vision of the two of them with cups of ice cream at their disposal.

“Have you behaved yourselves well enough to deserve a treat?” Lena asked them.

“Jennifer was badder than me,” Justin pointed out.

“No, I wasn’t!”

Lena took each of them by the hand. “Come over closer to this nice man Aunt Lena has been talking to. He’s someone very important.”

“Who is he?” asked Justin.

“He’s your daddy.”

“Our daddy?” Jennifer questioned skeptically. “We don’t have a daddy. We just have a mommy, but she’s in heaven now.”

Graham had gone as still as a statue. The sense of unreality was more pronounced than ever. Lena, flanked by the two children, approached him.

“Are you really our daddy?” Justin asked when they’d come to a standstill.

Words wouldn’t come out of Graham’s mouth. He had to swallow. “Yes, Justin, I believe I am.”

“We grew in our mommy’s stomach,” Jennifer informed him, obviously still not putting much stock in his paternity claim.

“I was borned first.” Justin stood very straight. “I’m taller than Jennifer.”

“And he has a penis. I don’t.”

“Maybe you children would like to give your daddy a hug or a kiss,” Lena suggested.

“I’m a total stranger to them,” Graham protested.

Jennifer and Justin gazed up into his face. From their expressions they were processing the idea.

“He’s too tall,” the little girl pointed out.

Graham felt like a robot as he lowered himself to a squatting position. Jennifer moved first and Justin followed her lead. They pressed their lips to his cheeks.

“Give them a hug, why don’t you?” Lena prompted, and he complied in a gingerly fashion. “That’s nice.” She sighed with satisfaction. “Now, why don’t the four of us go out for ice cream? Then I’ll be on my way back to Jackson.”

Graham stood up, alarm bells going off at her use of the singular pronoun. “You’re taking the twins back, too, aren’t you? I need some time to make arrangements. And you’ll need to pack up their clothing and toys.”

“I have several big suitcases in the trunk of my car. I’ll send the rest right away. Let’s go, kids.” She clapped her hands briskly. “Aunt Lena needs to be on the road in forty-five minutes.”

Graham accompanied them, leaving his outer office in total shambles. His mind and emotions were in a similar state of disruption. His life had just gone from sane and orderly to crazy and chaotic.

Chapter Two

“Holly, isn’t this a fabulous turnout!” gloated Ann Johnson, the president of the North Shore Businesswomen Club. “Everyone who bought a raffle ticket must have showed up for the cocktail party and drawing tonight.”

“Not quite everyone,” Holly replied. “I counted the invitation cards I collected at the door. A hundred and seventy-four, and we sold two hundred tickets.”

“At $250 each! That’s $50,000, less expenses, for our scholarship fund.” Ann toasted Holly with her champagne glass. “Here’s to you for coming up with the idea for this year’s fund-raiser. It was sheer genius to tap into our members’ expertise and hold a raffle with multiple prizes like Decorating Consultant for a Week, Girl Friday for a Week, Nanny for a Week. Our ticket buyers loved the novelty of taking a chance on free service by an expert. And at $250, our raffle winners will be getting real bargains.”

“The only glitch was that those who bought tickets from me all had their favorite prize they hoped to win.”

“Same here. A couple of bachelors pointed out they wouldn’t have any use whatever for a nanny. But they were good sports when I explained that we weren’t selling separate tickets. It would be luck of the draw as to who won what.” Ann glanced around, searching the crowd of well-dressed people sipping drinks and munching on canapés. “One of my bachelor ticket buyers was Graham Knight. I don’t see him, and he said he wouldn’t think of missing what he called our ‘annual bash.”’

“No, he’s not here.” Holly sipped her champagne.

“You’ve already noticed our handsome architect’s absence.” Ann pointed out the obvious, her smile teasing. “Do I detect disappointment?”

“If you do, I must be fond of rejection.” Holly’s tone was wry.

“You? Rejected by a red-blooded male? That’s hard to imagine, especially as gorgeous as you look tonight. I love your emerald-green outfit. Oh, Gina’s signaling us. It’s time to hold the raffle.” The club president hurried off.

Holly sighed glumly, touching the shimmering green silk of her dinner suit before she followed in Ann’s wake. The dinner suit was new. She’d bought it especially to wear tonight. Darn it, she’d wanted to look her most “gorgeous” because she expected Graham Knight to be at the fund-raiser party.

A week ago she’d encountered him in the supermarket, of all places, and they’d chatted briefly. The chemistry had sizzled between them, as usual. Holly had bitten her tongue to keep from asking, “Are you busy tonight?” A modern woman, she rejected the old rules that required a guy to ask a woman out and never vice versa. That was nonsense, in her opinion. But Graham had already refused her once before during the past year, when they were working together on a job for a builder. Graham had been the architect and Holly the interior decorator.

So she hadn’t tried to make a date with him in the supermarket. Neither had he tried to make a date with her. But in parting he had referred casually to seeing her at the fund-raiser party. Darn it, Holly was disappointed he hadn’t come.

Which meant she actually must be fond of rejection. Except that all her instincts as a woman told her Graham Knight was every bit as attracted to her as she was to him. What was his hang-up where she was concerned?

The next time I get the chance, I’m going to ask him, Holly promised herself.

The North Shore Businesswomen Club had booked a banquet room at a local hotel for tonight’s party and raffle. A station for the drawing had been set up in advance on a dais at one end of the room. On a draped table sat an elegant flower arrangement, compliments of a florist member, but the focal point of attention as the guests gathered around the dais were two crystal bowls flanking the centerpiece, one containing five small envelopes and the other containing two hundred envelopes of a comparable size.

After a speech, Ann proceeded with the raffle by first introducing the five club members who were either donating their services or that of an employee as prizes. Holly was among them. She would be donating her own skills for the Decorating Consultant for a Week prize.

Next, Ann called for a volunteer to step up and draw two envelopes, one from either bowl. A jovial bald-headed man responded. He first read out the name of the winner, a woman who was present. After the excitement had died down, he revealed her prize in his booming voice, “Nanny for a Week!”

The raffle proceeded with three more volunteers assisting. In order, lucky ticket buyers won Fashion Consultant for a Week, Personal Fitness Trainer for a Week and Girl Friday for a Week. Finally, only one prize envelope remained to be awarded to the winner of Decorating Consultant for a Week.

Holly smiled at her own reaction. Her nerves had tightened with the suspense. Who would win her?

The last volunteer, a matron in pearls who happened to be one of Holly’s wealthier clients, stepped up beside Ann. Holly had sold Gwendolyn Myers her fund-raiser ticket. Gwendolyn dipped a manicured hand into the bowl still filled with envelopes, fished around at length to prolong the drama and eventually plucked out one. Careful of her nails, she opened the envelope and showed the card inside it to Ann, who blinked and cast Holly a surprised look that said, You won’t believe this.

“Shall I read the name?” asked Gwendolyn, getting into her role as though she were an emcee on an awards program.

“Please do,” said Ann, whose expression was amused.

Somebody, read the blasted name, thought Holly, her curiosity thoroughly aroused.

Gwendolyn cleared her throat and intoned, “The final lucky winner of the evening is…Graham Knight.”

Holly’s mouth fell open.

“Is he present tonight?” Gwendolyn was inquiring.

“No, I don’t believe Graham was able to come,” Ann spoke up smoothly. She moved things along and concluded the raffle with another speech while Holly was adjusting to this unexpected development.

“Holly, will you notify Graham Knight? Or would you like for me to?”

“I’ll do it,” Holly replied without hesitation. She and Ann were on their way to their cars and had paused in the parking lot. “I won’t mind having a legitimate excuse to pay him a visit at his office. You probably guessed that from our earlier conversation when his name came up.”

“True,” Ann admitted laughingly. “What a coincidence for him to win you!”

“How well do you know Graham, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Fairly well. Our connection, of course, is Bob.” Bob was Ann’s husband, a prominent builder on the North Shore. “We’ve had Graham over to dinner at our house quite a few times over the past five years. Bob considers him an excellent architect and is always glad to land a project designed by Graham.”

“When he came to dinner, did he bring a date?” Holly was blatantly fishing for information.

“On a couple of occasions he brought a very striking woman he was obviously quite infatuated with. As a matter of fact, she had coloring very similar to yours. Golden-blond hair and blue eyes. And I believe she was an interior decorator, too. Her name has slipped my mind. We’re talking at least four years ago.”

“Hmm, I wonder if she’s still around. I haven’t run into any other decorators who look like me.”

“The relationship apparently didn’t last. Maybe she moved away. It’s my impression that Graham hasn’t been that involved with anyone since. When I quiz him, he always denies having a special woman in his life. He’s such a nice solid guy. I’ve no doubt he’s good husband material.”

“I’m not looking for a husband,” Holly volunteered frankly. “But I enjoy male company, and he’s awfully likable and cute.”

Ann lightly slapped her forehead. “A brain cell just kicked in! Heather. That was Graham’s woman friend’s name. Heather. Holly. Same first initial,” she remarked.

Holly wasn’t acquainted with anyone named Heather.

The two women bade one another good-night. On the way home Holly mulled over the background on Graham’s past love life that Ann had divulged. Maybe he was still carrying a torch for this old girlfriend Heather who bore some outward resemblance to Holly. Maybe he was reminded of Heather everytime he ran into Holly and experienced nostalgia or pain.

It would explain why he kept his distance from Holly when he plainly was drawn to her.

One way or another, Holly intended to solve the mystery. Darn, she wished tomorrow were a weekday instead of Saturday. She guessed she would have to wait until Monday to drop in on Graham at his office and make her announcement. “You lucky man, you won me!”

By then he might have heard through the grapevine. Holly liked the idea of breaking the news personally. It was rather late in the evening for someone—including her—to phone him tonight. She was probably safe. What the heck, Holly thought, I’ll call him tomorrow morning at home and ask him to meet me for coffee.

Graham’s home number was conveniently listed in the phone directory.

Holly waited until nine-thirty to call, figuring that was a decent time to bother him on a Saturday. If she waited too late, she increased her chances of not catching him at home before he went out to run errands or whatever.

He picked up on the second ring and said hello in a tone that was almost a shout. Holly could hear some kind of loud background noise. A TV playing?

“Hi, Graham. This is Holly Beaumont. I have some news I’d like to tell you in person. How about meeting me for coffee at the Breakfast Joint?”

“I wish,” he said with an emotion that seemed to be bitterness.

Were those the voices of children shrieking and wailing?

“Graham, what’s all that racket?”

“What? I can’t hear you, Holly.”

“I said what’s all that racket?” she shouted. “Can’t you turn the TV lower?”

“Hold on. I’ll have to do it manually.”

“Don’t you have a remote?”

“God knows where it is, or whether it’s still functioning. Hold on,” he said again.

About ten seconds later some of the noise subsided, but not the shrieking and wailing. That noise obviously wasn’t coming from the TV.

“Okay. That’s a little better,” he said. “Look, Holly, I’m sorry, but I’m tied up here. Justin, don’t hit your sister. Jennifer, stop kicking Justin.” His pleas, obviously not intended for her ears, held desperation.

“Whose children are those?” Holly asked, having deduced that he was addressing a couple of kids.

“Mine.” The bitterness again.

“Yours? I didn’t know you were a father.”

“Neither did I until yesterday.”

“How old are they?” Holly was as fascinated as she was astonished.

“Three and a half. They’re twins—a girl and a boy.”

“Is their mother there, too?” She hadn’t heard a woman speaking.

“No, she’s deceased. I learned that yesterday, too, from the great-aunt who delivered the children.”

“‘Delivered’ them? You mean she just brought them and left them?”

“You got it.”

“Graham, this is the most bizarre story I’ve ever heard!” Holly exclaimed.

“Tell me about it. Sorry to be abrupt, but I’d better hang up before these two hurt each other.” He said a terse goodbye and cut the connection.

“Poor guy!” she sympathized out loud. “What a predicament!” Holly sat there a few moments, flooded with sympathy and trying to imagine what it would feel like to be in his shoes. One minute a single man with only himself to worry about and the next minute a daddy with twins.

Graham had come across as desperate and downright depressed, understandably. His life had been thrown into a turmoil and he didn’t seem to be coping very well. It would be criminal of Holly to go about her business today and not play Good Samaritan, especially since she’d had quite a bit of experience dealing with children during her teenage years. Baby-sitting had been her main source of extra spending money.

I’ll go over to Graham’s place and help him out for a few hours, Holly decided.

Generosity was her main motivation, but she was also dying of curiosity to meet his offspring!

The decision made, Holly briefly considered calling Graham back and alerting him that he should expect her. Then she scratched that plan and decided simply to appear at his door. Fortunately, she’d been inquisitive enough to note his address when she was stuffing raffle ticket stubs into envelopes for the drawing.

The drive from her house in the village of Madisonville to Graham’s condo near the lake in Mandeville took Holly between fifteen and twenty minutes. At ten o’clock she was ringing his doorbell.

Graham jerked the door open in midact of shoving his free hand through dark brown hair that already was rumpled. He wore a T-shirt tucked into his unbelted jeans, and athletic shoes. Despite the dark circles under his eyes that suggested he hadn’t slept well, despite his harried expression, Holly found him as ruggedly good-looking as ever.

“Holly,” he said blankly. His gaze took in her jeans and T-shirt and athletic shoes. Holly’s body hummed pleasurably in response to his inspection, the way it always did when she was around him.

“Hi. I came to give you some moral support,” she announced cheerfully. “On the phone you sounded pretty rattled.”

“This is hell.” He rubbed his forehead roughly with his palm. “Sheer hell.”

“The TV’s been turned up loud again,” Holly observed. She could hear the soundtrack of a cartoon show blaring inside the condo.

“They insist on playing it loud enough to burst their eardrums. When I turn it down, they turn it back up again.”

“Did you try taking away the remote?”

“Yes. I tried that,” he confirmed wearily. “But they scream and yell like a couple of banshees when they don’t get their way. I’m afraid the neighbors will call the police. So I gave the remote back to them to shut them up.

“God, you should see the inside of my condo. It looks like vandals have struck. I was cleaning up the kitchen when you rang the doorbell. Cereal and milk all over the place. Broken dishes. These two kids are monsters disguised as children, Holly. Monsters.”

“Can I come in? I’ll give you a hand with the kitchen.”

He hesitated before saying, “Sure. But enter at your own risk.”

Even in a state of emergency he had his qualms about admitting her into his condo. Holly ignored her little stab of hurt for the time being. She smiled and stepped inside the foyer, commenting, “Three-and-a-half-year-olds can’t be that dangerous.”

The trained decorator in her automatically noticed and approved the décor of his condo. Mexican tile floor in the foyer gave way to oatmeal-colored carpet in the living area. Soft white walls, striking artwork, glove-soft brown leather upholstery, natural finishes on wooden furniture. Tasteful, comfortable, and masculine.

It was an adult environment. The toys strewn about the living room looked totally out of place as did the two children lying on their stomachs in front of a thirty-six-inch TV housed in a handsome built-in entertainment center. Doors in the entertainment center stood open, drawers were pulled out, videotapes and CDs had been tossed about helter-skelter.

“See what I mean about vandals?” Graham gestured helplessly. “I tried to tell them that I didn’t own any videos or CDs for kids, but they refused to listen.”

“You mind if I ask them to turn the TV down?” she asked.

“You’re wasting your breath. But go ahead.”

Holly walked over to the twins and clapped her hands together smartly to attract their attention. “Justin. Jennifer. The TV’s too loud,” she said. The children looked up at her, taking her measure. It was difficult for Holly to maintain her brisk manner as she gazed into their faces. They were both adorable, the blue-eyed, fair-haired little girl and the brown-haired, brown-eyed little Graham look-alike. “I said, ‘The TV’s too loud.’ It hurts our ears. Turn the volume down.” She mimicked using an imaginary remote control.

Justin held the real remote clutched in both hands. After long seconds of deliberation, he pressed a small finger on the appropriate button.

“Well, I’ll be d—” Graham muttered. He’d followed behind her but stopped a few yards away.

“Lower than that, please,” Holly directed Justin. She smiled at the little boy when he’d reluctantly obeyed. “Thank you. That’s much better. And much safer. Loud noise can damage our eardrums and eventually make us deaf. That’s why workmen running noisy machines wear ear protection.”

“Who are you?” demanded Jennifer, sitting up.

“I’m Holly Beaumont, a friend of your daddy’s.”

The little girl’s face clouded up and her bottom lip trembled. “He’s not our daddy. Our mommy told us we didn’t have a daddy, and I don’t like him.” Tears suddenly welled up, and Jennifer began to cry brokenheartedly. “I w-want my m-mommy to come b-back from heaven. I want to go to my h-house and stay with Mary.”

“Don’t cry, sweetie,” Holly crooned. Her own eyes wet, she sank down beside the distraught child and hugged her.

“I want Mommy to come back. And I want to go to my house,” Justin said, breaking down and sobbing just as pitifully.

Holly gathered him close, too, and murmured reassurances that seemed woefully inadequate in light of the children’s great loss. “Mommy wouldn’t want you to cry like this. She would want you to be happy children. Tell you what. Let’s dry those tears and do something really fun. Okay? How would you like for your daddy and me to take you to a playground?”

Graham had come closer. At his muffled sound of protest, Holly glanced up at him and read panic on his face. He shook his head hard and mouthed, “No way.”

“Why not?” she mouthed back.

“You haven’t ridden with them in a car,” he said in an urgent undertone. “They won’t keep their seat belts fastened. And if you let go of their hands when you’re out in public, they can be gone in a flash. In different directions.”

He obviously spoke from terrifying experience.

“There’re two of us. We can manage,” Holly said confidently.

Meanwhile the children’s sobs had quieted.

“A playground?” questioned Justin with interest, sniffling.

“With seesaws and swings?” Jennifer asked, wiping her wet little cheeks with her palms.

Holly looked pleadingly at Graham, who sighed in capitulation.

“Against all my better judgment,” he said.

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