Книга - Billion-Dollar Baby Bargain / The Moretti Arrangement: Billion-Dollar Baby Bargain / The Moretti Arrangement

Billion-Dollar Baby Bargain / The Moretti Arrangement: Billion-Dollar Baby Bargain / The Moretti Arrangement
Katherine Garbera

Tessa Radley


Billion-Dollar Baby Bargain Tessa Radley Turned from best man to baby’s guardian in one shocking moment, bad-boy billionaire Connor North staked his claim. If maid-of-honour Victoria Sutton wanted any part in her godson’s life, she had to play by Connor’s rules. So Victoria moved into his home. She even agreed to become his wife…and their convenient marriage sparked a surprisingly powerful passion…The Moretti Arrangement Katherine Garbera Dominic Moretti knew he could fire his secretary – but he really wanted to make her…pay. She’d stolen from him. All the time he’d trusted her, all the time he’d been fighting his attraction to her, she’d been plotting with his enemy. So now he held all the cards. He could do whatever he wanted with Angelina…










Billion-Dollar Baby Bargain

by Tessa Radley

“I’d like to see the will.” She did her best to keep the tension out of her voice, to keep it level and professional. To her annoyance, her pulse kicked up.




He drew a leather document holder from under his arm. A surreptitious glance revealed lines of tiredness etched deep into his face, though they failed to mute the impact of his hard, handsome features.



Unable to restrain herself, Victoria snatched up the will, scanning the headings as she flicked through the pages. Searching for proof a darling baby’s life had changed forever.



“Co-guardian.” His voice was gravelly, all male, full of edges with no smooth sweetness. “And we share custody, too.”



A gust of chilly wind cut through the fabric of her dress. She shivered. Crossing her arms, she let the will fall as she rubbed her hands absently up and down her body.



Joint custody and co-guardianship. How on earth was that going to work? Damn, what had her friend been thinking?






The Moretti Arrangement

by Katherine Garbera

“Why would you settle for this kind of relationship when you could have something real?”




“This feels real to me,” he said, walking into the bedroom.



He sat down on the edge of her bed and then snagged her wrist, drawing her close. “Doesn’t this feel real to you?”



She swallowed hard. She wasn’t explaining this the right way. She wanted him to say that there was more between them than an arrangement, but there was no way that was going to happen tonight.



“I guess so.”



He pulled her even closer, wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder. The move was unexpected and she didn’t know what it meant. But she realised that analysing Dominic’s actions wasn’t going to bring her the answers she sought. Not tonight.






Available in July 2010

from Mills & Boon


Desire





Royal Seducer by Michelle Celmer

&

Bossman Billionaire by Kathie DeNosky

Billion-Dollar Baby Bargain by Tessa Radley

&

The Moretti Arrangement by Katherine Garbera

The Tycoon’s Pregnant Mistress by Maya Banks

&

To Tame Her Tycoon Lover by Ann Major





Billion-Dollar Baby Bargain


By




Tessa Radley

The Moretti Arrangement


By




Katherine Garbera











www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)





Billion-Dollar

Baby Bargain


BY



Tessa Radley


Dear Reader,



I’ll never forget the day that my first child was born. The doctor placed this wailing little person on my chest and I greeted him. The screams stopped instantly. He grew still. The nurse and my husband began to laugh, and the doctor said, “He knows his mum’s voice.” As I carried on talking, my baby tried to lift his head to look at me. I knew then that the doctor was right. All those months that he’d been part of me, he’d learned the sound of my voice. And right there a bond was forged.



It was an amazingly profound moment for me.



So it probably won’t surprise you that I’ve always enjoyed romances that contain babies. There is a tenderness in these stories – and often the stakes are so much higher. It’s not only the hero and heroine’s relationship that’s at risk, but the future of that vulnerable baby, too.



I’m a huge fan of Desire’s BILLIONAIRES AND BABIES stories…I have read all the titles published so far…and I’m thrilled that Connor and Victoria’s story is part of this fabulous collection.



Happy reading!



Tessa Radley


Tessa Radley loves travelling, reading and watching the world around her. As a teen Tessa wanted to be an intrepid foreign correspondent. But after completing a bachelor of arts degree and marrying her sweetheart, she became fascinated by law and ended up studying further and practising as a lawyer in a city practice.

A six-month break travelling through Australia with her family reawoke the yen to write. And life as a writer suits her perfectly: travelling and reading count as research and as for analysing the world…well, she can think “what if?” all day long. When she’s not reading, travelling or thinking about writing, she’s spending time with her husband, her two sons, or her zany and wonderful friends. You can contact Tessa through her website, www.tessaradley.com.


For my boys




Prologue


Who would have thought that a baby—cute and gurgly when his mother held him—could be such a demanding little devil? Victoria Sutton sank down onto the couch in the living room of her Auckland town house and gazed at the sleeping baby in the traveling cot with weary disbelief.

Dylan looked utterly angelic as stubby eyelashes rested in dusky crescents against chubby baby cheeks and his mouth moved gently up and down.

Oh, for a shot of caffeine.

Strong, hot Starbucks coffee. Hard to believe the whole weekend had passed without finding time to pick one up. Mandy, her secretary, would laugh herself silly tomorrow when Victoria recounted the events of the past two days.

Had it only been two days?

Propping her elbows on her knees, Victoria rested her chin in her palms, and groaned. Two days, but also two pretty much sleepless nights during which Dylan had turned her normally organized life upside down. Heavens, it seemed like she hadn’t drawn a breath since her best friend Suzy had gabbled her last bits of advice on Friday evening as Michael had tugged his wife out the front door, eager to get away for a brief romantic break to celebrate their second wedding anniversary.

Never again would she imagine that babies slept all the time!

Lifting her head from her cupped palms, Victoria scanned the normally immaculate living room and took in the chaotic disarray of toys, diapers and other baby paraphernalia. Another groan escaped. She knew her bedroom looked worse. She needed to get the mess packed up before Dylan’s parents arrived to collect him.

Victoria glanced ruefully at the apple puree smears on the winter-white fabric of the couch. And that stain on the carpet hadn’t been there before Friday, either. What had possessed her to feed Dylan in the all-white living room this morning? Had she learned nothing over the past two days?

Tomorrow first thing she’d organize to get the marks cleaned.

Tomorrow. Oh, heavens. Victoria’s hands shot to her mouth in dismay.

The weekly Monday-morning partners’ meeting…

Good grief, she hadn’t done any preparation. She thought wildly of how she’d delusionally planned to work while Dylan napped over the weekend.

A glance at the wall clock showed her it was still early. Michael and Suzy would be here within the next two hours to pick up Dylan. The whole evening lay ahead.

If she worked quickly to tidy the apartment, she might even get some work in before the Masons arrived. Grabbing a nappy bag, Victoria started to toss in toys, wet-wipes and unused diapers.

But nothing could take away from the fun she’d had with her godson. They’d played peekaboo and she’d tickled Dylan’s tummy. They’d been to the beach, where she’d dipped Dylan’s toes in the shallows while he squealed in ecstasy. They’d even shared an ice-cream cone—granted, most of it had ended up over Dylan’s face, plus a few smears down Victoria’s favorite Kate Sylvester T-shirt.

So she’d willingly offer to do it again. Her godson was adorable. A memory of his loud, growling screams in the middle of the night made her amend that statement. Mostly he was adorable.

The throaty roar of a powerful motor pulling up outside her town house unit made her pause in the act of retrieving a miniature sock from under the coffee table.

She checked the slim gold watch on her wrist. Too early for Michael and Suzy.

The doorbell rang in a long, insistent buzz. Victoria leaped to her feet, a quick glance showing that Dylan hadn’t stirred. The bell buzzed again. She shot across the room and, without pausing to look through the peephole, yanked the door open before whoever it was could lean on the doorbell again.

“Connor!”

Connor North, Michael’s best man, stood on her doorstep.

To Victoria’s annoyance her pulse kicked up, but with practiced ease she avoided Connor’s gaze. He wore a white T-shirt that stretched across a broad chest, and a pair of jeans that molded the lean hips.

“I probably should have called.”

His voice was gravelly, all male, full of edges with no smooth sweetness. Victoria knew she should reply, should agree that it would have been better for him to have called first—and then hope like blazes that he would go.

Instead, unable to answer him or steel herself to meet his unsettling pale gray eyes, Victoria fixed her gaze on the hard line of his mouth. Mistake. It had been two years since he had kissed her at Michael and Suzy’s wedding. By rights she should’ve forgotten all about the texture of his lips against hers, the desire that had spun dizzily within her.

She hadn’t.

Victoria swallowed.

The memory of the taste of him, the hardness of his body against hers, was so immediate it could’ve happened yesterday. Despite her every effort to pretend it had never happened at all.

“Connor…” she croaked, wishing he was a million miles away.

Why had he come? They didn’t have the kind of relationship that allowed for casual drop-ins. To be honest they didn’t have any kind of relationship at all.

Since the wedding the two of them had developed an unspoken pact of practicing avoidance: when one arrived at the Masons’ home, the other departed within minutes. The passage of time had not dulled the hostility that crackled between them. A dislike that they both colluded to conceal from Michael and Suzy—and Dylan.

She tried again. “Connor, what are you doing here?”

Carefully, with immense composure, she raised her gaze from that hard, tight mouth and met his gaze. To her astonishment he didn’t look anything like his usual arrogant, assured self. He looked…

She took in his pallor, the dull flatness in his gray eyes. He looked shattered. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Victoria—” He broke off and shoved his hands in his pockets.

At least he seemed to have no difficulty remembering her name these days, Victoria thought wryly. But it wasn’t like Connor to be at a loss for words. Usually the sarcastic quips rolled off his tongue. She frowned. “What is it?”

“Can I come in?”

Victoria hesitated. She didn’t particularly want him in her home. But he was…he wasn’t himself. “Sure.”

Leading him into the living room, she felt a flare of embarrassment at what he must see. Toys. Baby blankets. Dirty plates. She would’ve preferred Connor to see her home as it normally looked. Elegant. Immaculate. “Excuse the mess.”

He didn’t even glance sideways. “Victoria…” That soulless gaze was focused on her face with an intensity that was awfully disconcerting.

The need to fill the awkward silence made her blurt out, “Can I fix you a cup of coffee? Not that it’s anything like Star-bucks, but I was about to make myself—” she stopped before she could reveal that one small human had reduced her to a caffeine-craving wreck “—a hot drink.”

“No.”

“Tea?”

He shook his head.

She moved toward the kitchen, which opened off the living room, flipped the kettle’s switch and opened the fridge.

“I don’t have beer. Would you like a cola?” she offered with reluctance as his footfalls sounded on the tiles behind her. She wished he’d waited for her in the living room. There wasn’t enough space in the kitchen for the two of them.

“Please.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and shut his eyes. An instant later they flicked open and she glimpsed…pain?

Victoria swung away and yanked the fridge door open. She stared blindly at the contents before reaching for two cans of cola. Shutting the door, she said more curtly than she’d intended, “So what do you want, Connor?”

His mouth twisted. “Certainly not sympathy.”

She flicked him a rapid once-over as she set the cans down on the counter. He made no move toward the drinks. A ring of white that she hadn’t noticed before surrounded his lips.

What was wrong with him? “Why on earth would I offer you sympathy?”

It couldn’t possibly be about his former girlfriend. That had been over two years ago and no one ever spoke about Dana or Paul Harper, Connor’s former business partner who had pinched his live-in lover while Connor had been out of the country on a business trip.

What Victoria had gleaned of the affair had come from a soft-focus women’s magazine feature on Dana and Paul not long after Suzy’s wedding. Connor’s ex had been nominated for a business award, and was quoted gushing about how happy she was, how she’d “come into herself.” There’d been an accompanying spread of photos showing the couple at home in a modern Italianate mansion, all glass and marble.

Yet according to stories in business publications, Harper-North Architecture hadn’t thrived well under Paul’s leadership after Connor had walked out. In fact, Suzy had once told Victoria that Paul Harper still owed Connor money. Victoria had surmised that the only thing keeping Connor from placing Harper-North—and Paul Harper—into receivership must be his intent to squeeze every cent he could out of Paul Harper.

By contrast, there’d been quite a splash in the media about The Phoenix Corporation, the waterfront development company that Connor had floated. Reading between the lines, Victoria had gathered that he’d turned what for a lesser man might have spelled disaster into a multimillion-dollar success story.

Yet a sense that something was not quite right closed in on her, as he rubbed his hands over his face in a manner she could only describe as helpless.

“I shouldn’t have made that crack about sympathy,” he said. “Oh, hell, let me start over.” He dropped his hands to his sides and the eyes that met hers were as expressionless as ever. “I’m sorry, Victoria, I’ve got bad news.”

“Bad news?” Bewilderment set in. “What bad news?”

“Michael—”

“No,” she interrupted, as if that might stop her absorbing the reality of the despair that clung to him. “Not Michael!”

Her index finger tapped her watch face with insistent, staccato force. “He’ll be here soon. I know it.”

Connor was shaking his head and his face was gray, his eyes drained of all vitality. “He won’t. He’s never coming back.”

He had to be.

A sickening fear hollowed out her stomach. She found herself standing right in front of him—closer than she’d ever been, except for that brief disastrous time when they’d danced together at Michael and Suzy’s wedding. And when he’d kissed her. “You’re wrong.”

Because if Michael wasn’t coming back that meant…

Seized by desperation, she choked out, “Suzy. Where’s Suzy?”

“Victoria…”

This time he didn’t have to say anything more. It was all in the way he looked at her with deep sorrow and regret.

“No!” she howled, her throat thickening with grief.

He moved swiftly forward. “Suzy’s gone, too.”

Victoria fell forward against the broad chest, uncaring of how unyielding Connor’s solid frame had become. After a moment of blubbering her arms crept up about his neck.

He grew more rigid still for just a moment until his arms came around her and squeezed. Then he shook off her clinging arms and stepped back, his eyes remote.

“There are arrangements to make. I need to get on to them but I thought you should know…” His voice trailed away.

“That Michael and Suzy are—” she couldn’t bring herself to say it “—are not coming home.”

A muscle moved high in his cheek. “That’s right.”

“No, it isn’t right. It’s wrong!”

The eyes that met hers were full of torment. “Victoria—”

She shook her head. “They’re supposed to knock on the door…Suzy will be laughing, she’ll call out, ‘I’m baaack.’”

He hunched his shoulders.

The lump in her throat finally got too big and her voice broke. Tears welled up from deep within her aching heart. “It’s not fair. They should be here.”

Backing out of the kitchen, Connor spread his hands, then dropped them to his sides. “Look, there’s a lot to be done.”

“And you don’t have time for good, old-fashioned grief,” Victoria said bitterly, as she followed him.

“You’re overreacting.” He looked hunted. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not. I work faster alone. And you need to take care of Dylan.”

Dylan!

She gaped at Connor in horror. Oh, dear Lord, how could she have forgotten about Dylan?

Dylan had lost his parents.

Connor couldn’t leave now. “Connor!”

But Connor was already halfway across the living room. He threw an unreadable glance over his shoulder but didn’t slow down. “When I come back we’ll talk about Dylan.”




Chapter One


August, two years ago

The taxi pulled up outside the quaint white church where Suzy and Michael would be getting married tomorrow. Victoria paid the driver and leapt out, tugging her rollaway suitcase behind her.

“Hey, Victoria, over here.” Suzy stood in the churchyard, waving madly from behind a white-painted wooden gate, her curly blond hair bubbling about her face. “I’m so glad you made it.”

“Me, too.”

Opening the gate, Victoria abandoned her suitcase and stretched her arms out wide to give Suzy a fierce hug.

“When my plane was delayed I thought I was going to miss the wedding rehearsal.” She’d been away doing an audit for one of her largest clients. The text message from Suzy that she was getting married in five days’ time had shaken Victoria—although in hindsight it shouldn’t have. Over the past month, everything Suzy said had been prefaced by “Michael says.” But Victoria hadn’t expected the romance to escalate so quickly. “You certainly decided to get married in a hurry, didn’t you?”

Stepping away, Suzy grabbed Victoria’s hand. “Come see what the church committee is doing with the flowers.”

“You’re changing the subject,” Victoria said with fond frustration.

Suzy cast her a grin. “Tory, it’s too late to try and talk me out of marrying Michael tomorrow.”

Victoria smiled at the woman she’d pulled from more scrapes than she cared to remember. “Well, I hope Michael knows what he’s letting himself in for. Is he here yet?”

“He and Connor—his best man—” Suzy tacked on at Victoria’s questioning glance, “are on their way. We’re taking you both out to dinner tonight to celebrate. I booked a table at Bentley’s.” She did a little jig. “I can’t believe it’s the last night we’ll spend apart. Michael can’t wait for tomorrow, either. Come on.”

“Wait, let me grab my bag.” With a laugh, Victoria reached for the bag and let Suzy lead her through a courtyard overflowing with ivy and rambling roses, rolling her bag behind her.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the branches of a lofty Norfolk pine, casting shadows across the sundial in the centre of the courtyard.

Victoria came to a halt. Suzy slowed. “What now?”

“Suz, don’t you think it might’ve been better to wait? You’ve only—”

“Known Michael for a month,” interrupted Suzy, finishing the sentence with the familiar ease that came from twenty-four years of friendship, “but I knew after an hour that he was The One.”

“But Suz—”

Suzy stamped her foot, managing to look sweet and determined at the same time. “No, don’t say anything more. Just be happy for us. Please.”

Now, how on earth was she supposed to withstand Suzy’s puppy-dog eyes? Truth was she’d never been able to say no to Suzy, despite the fact that Victoria was supposed to be the sensible one.

The sound of footsteps prevented Victoria from responding. She glanced around and her eyes widened.

It wasn’t Michael—much as she liked him—who snagged her attention, but rather the dark-haired man who strode into the churchyard beside him. Tall and powerfully built with features that could’ve been carved from granite—angled cheekbones, a blade of a nose and a hard mouth—he made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

Victoria recognized the animal. She’d met them, done audits for the super-successful companies.

A tycoon.

Rich. Assured. Ruthless.

And this was Michael’s best man? Edging slowly forward, she glanced from one man to the other.

Michael’s fair good looks dimmed against the other man’s dark strength. They were as different as day from night. Where had Michael found him?

She must have said something because his gaze met hers. That was when her stomach flipped over. In contrast to his swarthy skin his pale-gray eyes held the unnerving translucence of crystal. But they contained utterly no emotion.

Ruthless.

“Connor North.”

He spoke in a crisp baritone, and Victoria instantly recognized the name. From its outset Harper-North Architecture had garnered buzz and awards for innovative restoration of Victorian homesteads and plans for cutting-edge new commercial buildings.

With reluctance Victoria took the hand he held out. A hard hand ridged with calluses clasped hers—hardly the hand of an office-bound paper pusher.

Yet from everything she’d heard, Connor North was very much a corporate animal. Financially astute, frighteningly efficient and with an uncanny talent for picking projects that would become landmarks. There was certainly no need for him to busy himself with the manual labor that the ridges on his palms suggested he did. The man was worth a fortune—and accumulating more. Last she’d heard Harper-North was considering launching a commercial-property venture to develop many of Auckland’s old dockside warehouses into exclusive waterfront retail complexes. It would be a feather in her cap to land him as a client—and no doubt he’d be able to introduce her to some of the blue-chip companies he was associated with. One or two more accounts like that and she’d be propelled into the upper echelons of Archer, Cameron & Edge.

He glanced down pointedly at their joined hands. A flare of embarrassment seared her as Victoria realized she still clutched his hand. Daydreaming. She dropped it as if she’d been scorched by a flaming torch.

Even Suzy was staring at her. “Do you two know each other?”

Victoria shook her head, not trusting her voice.

“No.” Connor North clearly didn’t suffer from the same affliction.

“Connor, meet Suzy’s oldest friend, Victoria Sutton.” Michael gave her an easy smile. “Despite his reputation, Connor won’t bite.”

Victoria wasn’t so sure. Connor North looked capable of doing a lot worse than biting.

“Victoria is a partner at ACE,” Michael informed Connor.

Victoria knew she should be grateful for the punt, because she should be doing everything she could to land his very lucrative account.

Instead, when Connor gave her the opportunity of a lifetime by asking, “The accounting firm?” she could only manage a nod, not trusting her voice. Her stomach, thankfully, seemed to have recovered from the tumbling sensation that had shaken her when she had first looked into his eyes.

Bridget Edge, managing partner of Archer, Cameron & Edge Accounting, would be horrified to see her now. Faced with the opportunity of a lifetime, Victoria couldn’t think of anything vaguely professional to say. All she could think of was getting as far away from the man as she could. He made her feel…the best word she could come up with was…unsettled.

Still prickling with a mix of apprehension and a weird kind of tingling sensation, Victoria allowed Suzy to shepherd her up the stone stairs into the church while Michael disappeared to put her suitcase in his car.

Inside the church a group of elderly ladies busily arranging white lilies and pristine long-stemmed roses in tall flower stands greeted Suzy with cries of delight. When Michael returned there were chirps about how fortunate he was to be marrying Suzy, and Victoria saw Connor North’s mouth turn down at the corners.

He didn’t want Michael to marry Suzy!

The realization rocked Victoria. How could anyone disapprove of dear, sweet Suzy?

For the next fifteen minutes Michael smiled indulgently while Suzy cheerfully ordered everyone around and Connor grew increasingly remote.

His phone rang six times while Suzy talked nonstop. Each time, Connor pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, glanced at it, then let it continue to ring.

Victoria could feel herself growing tenser as Connor’s disapproving silence continued, and she was ready to scream by the time Suzy called a halt, finally satisfied that the groom, the groomsman and the maid of honor knew what was expected of them.

“I want tomorrow to be perfect.” Suzy dimpled a smile at Victoria and moved on to include Connor, too. “Michael and I just want to thank the church ladies for the wonderful job they’ve done with the flowers, then we’ll meet you outside.”

“We’ve been dismissed.” Connor gave a grimace that Victoria supposed passed for a smile and stood aside for her to walk ahead of him up the aisle.

Conscious of him stalking behind her, Victoria increased her pace.

As they neared the vestibule his phone rang again. He checked it and this time said, “Excuse me, Verity, I have to take this call.”

Victoria pursed her lips. “Victoria.”

Connor North stared at her blankly with all the interest of someone examining a moth on the wall. It did nothing to endear him to her. She’d been away on an audit all week. She was hot, tired and he had her in such a tizz, while he barely knew she existed.

“Victoria,” she repeated tersely. “My name is Victoria.”

His gaze raked her and Victoria became aware that her white blouse was creased from the flight, that her long, straight black skirt clung to her hips and must make her look like a scrawny scarecrow. She ran her fingers past her ears, through her hair, and was relieved to find that the shoulder-length bob was as sleek as ever.

“Sure.” Connor shrugged dismissively, and turned away to answer his cell phone.

Victoria followed slowly as he strode out of the church, knowing she ought to care that he’d seen her annoyance. After all, he would be an A-list client. But did she want to deal with him?

No, she decided.

In fact, she could think of nothing worse.

Verity, indeed! Clearly all women were interchangeable in his mind. Like gray cats in the night…

Startled, she pulled her thoughts up short. Where had that come from? There was no chance she would ever be one of Connor North’s gray cats. Although his women would be far from gray. No doubt he was the kind of man who went for decorative, desirable D-cups.

A rueful downward glance reminded her that she would be no contender.

Skinny. Beanstalk. Swot. Four-eyes. She had to remind herself that the ugly labels were no longer true, and that only Suzy knew that pathetic creature had ever existed. It was ancient history. In the past. Now she held a partnership in a well-respected accounting firm. No one could take that away from her. She’d fought for it, not allowing cruel, childish taunts or her neglectful parents to roadblock her journey to success…and independence.

Forcing herself not to dwell on the old, self-destructive memories, Victoria fixed a bright smile to her face as she stepped through the carved church doors to the vestibule where Connor paced, his cell phone glued to his ear. She let the scent of lavender hedges in the courtyard outside swirl around her, and slowly serenity returned.

“Michael and Suzy have booked a table to take us to dinner,” she told Connor when his call ended, in case he planned to bolt off on a hot date, forgetting all about the bridal couple.

His mouth flattened. “I’m quite sure Michael and Suzy would prefer to spend a quiet evening together before the rush of tomorrow’s wedding.”

Why hadn’t she thought of that?

As they started down the stone steps that led to the courtyard, Victoria noticed with surprise that Connor dwarfed her. It wasn’t often that a man made her feel downright dainty.

In the courtyard Suzy and Michael caught up to them. After tomorrow Victoria knew their friendship would never be the same again. A sense of loss filled her, yet she’d never seen Suzy look happier.

She remembered Connor’s clever suggestion. “Wouldn’t the two of you prefer to have dinner alone tonight?”

Suzy dumped a basket of hymn books into Victoria’s arms. “Here, you’ll need to give these to the ushers to hand out tomorrow at the door. And of course we want to take the two of you out—we’ll have the rest of our lives to spend alone together.” Suzy gave Michael a bittersweet smile and Victoria wondered if he, too, had seen the shadows in Suzy’s eyes as she spoke…or knew the reason for them.

The way he put an arm across Suzy’s shoulders and pulled her close suggested he did. “Victoria, you’re Suzy’s oldest friend, and Connor’s the closest thing I’ve got to a brother. It will be great for the four of us to have dinner together.”

Michael was so nice, Victoria decided. Maybe Suzy hadn’t made a mistake. About to give Michael a grateful smile for setting to rest the doubts that Connor had raised, Victoria paused as she intercepted the glacial look Connor shot Michael.

What was that about?

Yet Michael, bless him, smiled in the face of Connor’s icy disapproval. He clapped a hand on his best man’s shoulder and leant forward to murmur something that caused Connor’s pale eyes to flare with suppressed emotion as he shot Victoria a look of intense dislike.

What had she done to deserve that? The unexpected unease he’d already roused in her coalesced into a hard ball of antipathy.

As Michael went to fetch his car, Suzy added, “After dinner I’m going home—alone.” She winked suggestively at Victoria. “I told Michael it’s unlucky for him to see the bride before the wedding and I’m determined not to do anything that might tip the scales against us.”

“You shouldn’t be getting married if you need superstitious hocus-pocus to make it last,” Connor said from behind them, causing both women to start.

As surprise—followed swiftly by hurt—flashed in Suzy’s eyes, Victoria swung around and saw no levity in the man’s strange eyes.

Outraged that he’d attacked sweet, effervescent Suzy the moment Michael had vanished, she forgot her own reservations about the hasty marriage. Coldly she pointed out, “But Suzy and Michael are getting married. They love each other. And there’s not a thing you can do about it.”

“Love?” Connor’s eyes glittered in the dwindling sunlight and his sharp bark of laughter caused Victoria to bristle defensively. “Is that what women call it?”

“It’s what Michael calls it, too.” A chill enveloped Victoria. She must be mad to challenge this man. “And what gives you the right to sit judgment on what Michael and Suzy feel for each other, anyway?”

He stared down his nose at her. “Love is overrated.”

Hoisting the basket of hymn books to stop them falling, she said, “If you’re that cynical then perhaps you shouldn’t have agreed to be Michael’s best man.”

“Victoria—”

“No, Suzy.” She broke free of the bride-to-be’s restraining arm. “What he said was rude and uncalled for.”

Suzy looked decidedly uncomfortable.

“Can I take those for you?” Connor had the basket before she could object.

“Thanks,” she said ungraciously.

“It looked like you were about to drop them.”

The superior tone annoyed her afresh. Victoria wondered if the hard, handsome man in front of her had ever apologized to anyone. He would, she vowed. “Are you proud of yourself?”

“For helping relieve you of the basket?” He tilted his head sideways. “I suppose I am.”

“That’s not what I mean.” And he knew it. Splaying her hands on her skinny hips, Victoria faced Connor down. She was taller than Suzy by a head, yet Connor still loomed over her. For a moment her resolve wavered; then she stiffened her spine. “Is that what you wanted?” She nodded to Suzy where she stood, her shoulders sagging. “You’re going to ruin her day if you carry on like this.”

There was a long, brooding silence.

“Sorry.” But he didn’t sound sorry in the least.

“That’s the best you can do?” demanded Victoria.

“I accept his apology,” Suzy said quickly. “I understand why he’s upset.”

“I’m not upset,” he growled, and gave Victoria a killing how-dare-you stare before stalking off in Michael’s wake, the basket swinging incongruously at his side.

“Jerk!” Victoria fumed. To her astonishment she found that her hands were trembling. She brushed them over her hair, more to regain her composure than to smooth the style. She was too tired to be tactful. “What does Michael see in the man?”

“Make allowances for him.” Suzy put a hand on her arm. “His girlfriend just dumped him for his business partner. It can’t be a good time for him.”

Victoria gave a derisive laugh. “I don’t blame her one bit. No sane woman could live with a jerk like him.”

“He’s hurting,” Suzy protested.

“Didn’t you hear the way he said ‘love’? Like it was something foreign to him. Connor North feels as much emotion as a slab of granite.”

“Michael says he doesn’t share much, so maybe he did love her. He’s been very good about it, even letting her keep the house.”

“I’m sure she deserved it.”

“Shh.” Suzy’s grip on her arm tightened. “He might hear you.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, I do. C’mon, Tory, Michael and I were seriously hoping the two of you would become…well…friends.”

Friends with Connor North? Friendship implied affection, warmth and loyalty. Victoria couldn’t imagine Rock-Face ever exhibiting any of those qualities. She stared down at the person who knew her better than anyone in the world and gave a snort of disbelief. “You’re dreaming, Suz.”

Had Michael and Suzy been planning to match-make?

“Okay.” Suzy held up her hands. “I’m not going to argue, so let’s change the subject. I’ve been meaning to ask you, Tory, if you wouldn’t mind popping past the cottage to water the potted plants while we’re on honeymoon. Connor might forget.”

Victoria frowned suspiciously. “What do you mean ‘Connor might forget?’”

“He’s been staying with Michael this past week and the two of them have been working like dogs every evening to get the house all painted inside. And Connor will look after it while we’re on honeymoon—Michael dotes on that house.”

“I suppose I can drop round in my lunch hour—that way I won’t bump into him.” Then Victoria clicked her tongue. “Suzy, you’re not intending to start off your marriage with a houseguest, are you?”

“Oh, no, he’s not the type to be a third wheel—though he’s helped Michael heaps with the house. Michael could never have done as much alone. No, Connor will find a place while we’re on honeymoon. Michael just felt he needed a few days to get over the shock of losing his woman, his home and his business in one shot.”

Victoria steeled herself against a sneaky twinge of sympathy. However hard a time he’d had, it was no reason to attack Suzy. “I’m sure he’ll recover.”

“Please be nice to him, Tory.” Suzy stretched her blue eyes wide. “I don’t want the wedding photos ruined because the maid of honor and best man have a fistfight.”



No sane woman could live with a jerk like him.

Telling himself that the dislike was mutual didn’t stop the maid of honor’s words from rankling as Connor marched across the car park tucked away behind the church hall. He came to a stop where Michael Mason rummaged in the trunk of a modest Toyota parked in the dark shade of two tall pines.

“That woman is a menace.” Connor dropped the basket filled with hymn books into the trunk next to the black rollaway bag.

The groom’s head came up, and the brown eyes of a man Connor met twice weekly for a killer game of squash grew cool as Michael said with deceptive mildness, “Suzy is going to be my wife, Connor. Watch what you say.”

Connor did a double take. “Wow. You’ve got it bad.” His mouth slanted as Michael tensed. “Steady on, I was talking about the maid of honor.”

“Victoria?” Michael slammed the trunk shut. “She’s been friends with Suzy for decades. In fact—”

The sudden gleam in Michael’s eyes had Connor bringing his hands up in front of him to ward off the inevitable. “Don’t go there—she’s not my type.”

The woman was way too opinionated.

Michael ignored the warning. “Maybe you need a change from blonds. In fact, Suzy and I thought she might be the perfect antidote to Dana.”

Fresh annoyance surged through Connor at the memory of overhearing Suzy telling her friend that he’d been dumped by his girlfriend. And the sympathy in her eyes when she’d said she understood why he was upset.

Upset? Hell, he wasn’t upset. He was damned mad.

Mad at Dana. Mad at Paul Harper. Mad at Michael for divulging a confidence. And mad at the irritating, interfering witch who’d forced an apology out of him.

Breathing deeply, he said, “I gather you told Suzy all about Dana?”

Michael extracted a set of car keys from his pants pocket and activated the remote to unlock the doors. “How could I not? She would’ve found out anyway.”

“My business partner and my girlfriend…and I was the last to know.” Connor tried to laugh as he went around to the passenger side. “Soap opera stuff, huh?”

The raw hurt and betrayal that two days earlier had scorched all the way to his soul resurfaced. He hated the thought of people picking over the details of his devastated life.

“What Paul did was unforgivable.” Michael’s mouth was firm as he settled in the seat beside Connor. “And Dana was more than your girlfriend. The woman’s been living with you for nearly two years. Hell, you even made her a director of Harper-North.”

How Connor regretted Wednesday’s drunken bout of self-pity. He’d been away, laying the groundwork to open Harper-North’s first Australian office. On his return from Sydney, Dana had hit him with the news that their relationship was over. She had a new lover—the man he’d gone to university with, the man he’d founded a business with. His best friend. His former best friend.

Connor had gone to Michael’s house, gotten drunk, and blurted it all out. Dumb.

“The whole world shifted on its axis in the three weeks I was gone.” Connor raked his hands through his hair. It needed a cut. The mundane thought steadied him. “Came back to find my life in uproar and you planning marriage.” He shook his head. “Crazy.”

“Not that crazy. I’ve know Suzy a while, even though we only started dating about a month ago.”

“A month?” Connor raised his brows. “After two years I didn’t know what kind of treachery Dana was capable of. You should’ve taken more time.”

“A month. A year. Two years. It’s not going to make a difference to how I feel about Suzy.”

“So what makes you so sure Suzy isn’t after a lifelong meal ticket?”

A chuckle filled the car. “Mate, I’m not the billionaire here. I don’t wear thousand-dollar suits—” Michael gave Connor’s Armani a mocking inspection “—drive a Maserati, or live in a marble mansion.”

“I don’t live there anymore.”

This week’s showdown came back to haunt Connor. Paul had already moved into his house with Dana. But he’d wring every cent that he could from the pair of them in exchange for the mansion that Dana had craved…and the share of Harper-North that Connor had walked away from. They weren’t going to get off scott-free.

“Sorry.” The laughter faded from Michael’s eyes. “But trust me, Suzy’s not marrying me for money. She’s a teacher, just like me, so our incomes are pretty equal.”

Dana had been trying to wheedle an engagement ring out of Connor for ages. His thoughts came to a grinding halt. Had Suzy tricked Michael into a proposal with the oldest trick in the book?

“What about children?” Connor prodded. Dana had begged for a child. But Connor had resisted. He hadn’t wanted marriage—which he suspected was the real reason for Dana’s desperate desire for a child. A child would’ve been a mistake. They were both too busy for kids, he’d told her.

Michael turned the key in the ignition. His jaw had firmed and his hands gripped the steering wheel.

“I’m not asking if this woman’s already pregnant,” Connor lied hastily as the motor took. “Just wondering if she views you as a father figure for any children she has.” A high school guidance counselor, Michael would make the perfect mark for a solo mother wanting financial and emotional support.

“She doesn’t have any.” The reply was clipped.

“That’s a relief. I was worried she might be a desperate divorcée.” Connor paused as they rolled down a narrow lane lined with clipped hedges that hid the church from view.

“She’s divorced but she’s not desperate.” Michael’s jaw jutted out, a sign of the stubborn streak that usually remained hidden beneath his affable, calm exterior. “You’ll like Suzy, Connor—if you let yourself. There’s no catch.”

Connor stared at Michael’s profile, aware he wasn’t getting anywhere. The strange notion that his orderly life had spun out of control increased. He shook his head. “You’re not listening. There’s always a catch.”

“Of course I’m listening.”

“But?” Something about the set of Michael’s jaw told Connor this was one of the rare times that none of his arguments were going to succeed.

In the years he’d been playing squash with Michael he’d come to value the calm, unconditional friendship they’d forged. Connor often offered Michael financial advice, and only twice had Michael disregarded it. The first time Michael had lost thousands on a development that went belly up. The second time Connor had advised him to steer clear of a derelict Edwardian cottage on a busy road. Michael had wanted to use an unexpected legacy from a great-aunt as a deposit. Connor had warned him the restoration would devour money faster than a hungry loan shark.

But Michael had bought the place anyway and spent every weekend working on it. Connor had taken to dropping by on Sunday afternoons to lend Michael a hand—much to Dana’s disgust—and the manual labor involved in stripping old paintwork and restoring the cottage had proved extremely rewarding. As the house took shape Connor finally admitted he’d been wrong. Despite the exorbitant amount of time and money it consumed, Michael’s home was special.

It had reminded him of the days when he and Paul had first started out, fired by dreams of preserving as many forgotten buildings as they could.

When had they lost that idealism? When had it all become about the next million?

Yet just because Michael had been right about that old place of his didn’t mean this madly rushed marriage would work out, Connor decided as they waited for a break in the traffic.

“But…Suzy’s nothing like Dana.”

Connor bristled at the mention of Dana’s name. “I never said she was.”

Michael threw him a disbelieving look. “Don’t let what Dana did embitter you. I think you’re well rid of her. I never liked her, you know. You deserve someone better.”

“Right now I’m hardly in the mood to play dating games,” Connor growled.

“You’ll get over it.” Michael nosed the Toyota onto the road that ran past the front of the church. “We’ll find someone to kiss your broken heart better at the wedding tomorrow.”

Connor gave him a baleful glare. “My heart isn’t broken.”

“No,” Michael agreed. “It’s your pride that’s battered.”

“Thanks, mate, I really needed to hear that!”

Michael was still laughing as they pulled up in front of the church gate where the bride and her maid of honor waited.

Despite Suzy’s blonde prettiness, Connor found his gaze drawn to her friend. A patina of reserve clung to her. There was not a hint of feminine flounce in the straight black skirt, black stockings or the tailored white shirt. Yet when she moved toward the car, she carried herself with an easy, swinging grace that contrasted sharply with her coolly composed features.

“Best therapy right now would be another woman. Victoria—”

“No.” Connor looked away from the termagant and directed a stony stare at Michael. “I definitely don’t need another hard-boiled career woman with her eye on the main chance. So don’t try any matchmaking tonight or you’ll be looking for a new best man for your wedding tomorrow.”




Chapter Two


Connor barely noticed the radiant beauty of the stained-glass window backlit by the afternoon sun. Or how the kaleidoscopic light fell onto the faces of bride and groom, giving them an otherworldly quality. Instead he stood stiffly next to her behind the bridal pair as they exchanged vows, Michael’s voice deep and serious, Suzy sounding much breathier.

His anger at her had driven away his annoyance that Michael had dared to discuss Connor’s abortive personal affairs with Suzy. He couldn’t bear the thought of being pitied by anyone.

Although he could hardly accuse her of pitying him.

Unwillingly Connor slanted a sideways look at the maid of honor. He’d planned to ignore her today. She’d said little at dinner last night. Despite his threats to Michael, his and Suzy’s matchmaking efforts had been irritatingly obvious, and Connor had no intention of giving the argumentative woman any encouragement. The next woman he dated would be pure entertainment…no strings and plenty of hot sex. Not another high-flyer married to her career.

Her pallor last night had suggested she’d be more prone to headaches than hot sex. So had her attitude—she’d excused herself just after eleven, pleading exhaustion, but when he’d offered her a ride home she’d given him a look that suggested she’d rather eat slugs, and insisted on calling a taxi.

He had to admit she looked much better today. Suzy’s doing, no doubt. He almost hadn’t recognized her at the church door. Only her height—she was tall, her head coming up to his chin—her slender body and those wary hazel eyes had identified her.

Yet she was impossible to ignore.

Yesterday’s rumpled white shirt and black sacklike skirt had given way to an ultrafeminine dress of some pale, gauzy fabric that turned what he could see of her skin to the delicious luminescence of pearl. She’d done something different with her hair, too, twisting the dark strands up so it exposed the soft, pale skin of her neck, and a couple of loose tendrils brushed the slope of her shoulders.

And all that bare, feminine skin tempted him to touch, to stroke.

What the hell was he thinking? One week without a woman to call his own and even this plain, uptight female was starting to look attractive.

Despite Michael’s advice, the last thing he needed in his life was a woman. Even if he did, this one didn’t qualify—she was way too intense. And, as Suzy’s best friend, too complicated.

A hush fell over the church and he turned his head to watch Michael slip a plain gold band onto Suzy’s finger. There was a moment where the world seemed to hold its breath, and Michael looked positively bewitched.

Connor let out the breath he was holding.

He should’ve advised Michael on the wedding band. Women liked diamonds. Dana would’ve demanded a humdinger—for investment purposes of course. Michael should at least have had a row of diamonds channel set.

The priest was giving Michael permission to kiss the bride. Connor blanked out the sighs from the congregation and his awareness of the woman standing beside him, and found himself hoping Suzy would be more trustworthy than Dana had been.

Then, thankfully, the service was over. As they filed out of the church Connor pulled out his BlackBerry and made a note to himself about a meeting with a Realtor to look at new offices that he’d remembered he was supposed to attend on Monday.

The maid of honor—he really should remember her name—was glaring at him. Guiltily he stuck the BlackBerry back in his pocket.

“Wait,” she ordered as he headed for the stairs. “Michael and Suzy will want a photo at the church door.”

Violet? Was that her name? “There’s a wedding photographer to do that.” He gestured to where the man stood. “I didn’t bring a camera.”

“They might want us to be in the photo with them. We should smile. Look happy.”

“Sure.”

She shot him a narrow look; clearly she hadn’t missed his sarcasm. Not Violet, but it had been something equally old-fashioned. Edith? No, that wasn’t right, either.

He was saved from the need to reply by Michael and Suzy’s emergence from the church, their faces alight with what even he could recognize was joy. Envy speared him. Then he suppressed it. He was done with love and romance…from now on his relationships would be based purely on sex. No emotion. No tenderness.

That way there would be no betrayal.

The bridal couple paused under the arched church door beneath a flurry of pink-and-white rose petals, and the photographer leapt into action.

The damn woman had been right.

Unbidden, his eyes landed on her. She was smiling, and Connor had to admit it transformed her face. At least she wasn’t gloating. His gaze lingered on her curved lips and he couldn’t help noticing that her mouth was very pretty when it wasn’t screwed up in disapproval.

“Connor, Victoria, over here!” called Suzy.

Victoria. Of course! “We’re being summoned.” He placed a hand under her elbow. Her skin was silky beneath his fingertips. Out of nowhere a totally unexpected surge of lust hit him. Perhaps the wedding reception wouldn’t be such an ordeal after all…

Suzy was beckoning impatiently. “Come on, we need a photo with the two of you.”

“I told you so,” muttered Victoria.

Connor shot her a look of dislike. Okay, so he’d been wrong on two counts. Firstly, the reception was going to be every bit as bad as he’d imagined and, secondly, she had been gloating. She’d simply concealed it under that sweetly deceptive smile.

All desire waned. It didn’t need Michael’s grin—nor the pointed look to Connor’s hand where it rested—for his hand to drop away from her arm.

The further he stayed away from Queen we-are-not-amused Victoria, the better.



On entering the ballroom, Connor discovered—much to his horror—that rather than the two of them flanking the bridal pair, he and Victoria had been seated beside each other.

“Give the two of you a chance to talk, seeing that all my attention will be on my bride,” Michael murmured sotto voce, holding a chair out for Suzy, who glanced up and gave Connor a little wave, her eyes glittering with mischief.

Irritation swarmed through Connor and he glared at the smug groom.

Connor survived the first round of speeches by ignoring Victoria completely, although if he’d been honest he’d have had to admit that the subtly seductive scent she wore didn’t make that easy. By the time he had to propose a toast to the bride and groom he’d downed three glasses of too-sweet wedding wine. When the first notes of the wedding waltz struck up he looked vainly around for a waiter to order a double whiskey.

“Come on,” an unwelcome voice beside him prompted. “We should join them.”

“I’m not dancing,” he said flatly, settling for another glass of sweet champagne with a grimace.

Her gaze landed on the glass and her straight eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Surely you’re not going to use Suzy and Michael’s wedding as an excuse to get drunk?”

Deliberately provocative, he raised the tulip-glass in a mocking toast. “I’m celebrating the love that you believe in.”

“Don’t be so flippant.” Her disapproval deepened. “This is the happiest day of Suzy and Michael’s life and you’re going to ruin it for them if you carry on. And all because you’re too busy feeling sorry for yourself.”

Connor blinked in disbelief. “What did you say?” He couldn’t have heard right. Everyone had been pussyfooting around the subject of Dana and Paul’s affair. Surely she wouldn’t dare…

Their eyes locked. Hers were more green than brown, flashing little flecks of gold. It wasn’t pity he read there but disdain.

He’d heard perfectly. And grew convinced this woman would dare anything.

Anger knotted in his chest.

“Snap out of it. Think of someone except yourself for a change. It’s only a couple more hours.” Her gaze dropped to the glass in front of him. “And I suggest you slow down on the alcohol.”

“I don’t know who you think you are—” he lowered his voice to a lethal rasp “—but you are way out of line.”

“I’m Victoria.” A grim smile accompanied the words. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the bride’s best friend—” she emphasized best“—but I don’t understand how Michael can call you a friend at all. I certainly haven’t seen you do anything to deserve it.”

Her words stung. He was on his feet before he could think. “I don’t have to listen to this!”

Startled dismay flitted across her face. She cast a quick glance to where the bride was nestled in the groom’s arms. Michael chose that moment to glance at them over the top of Suzy’s curls. Victoria muttered something that sounded suspiciously like an expletive, pushed her chair back and grabbed his hand.

“Great.” The beaming smile she turned on him transformed her face. “Let’s get dancing.”

Connor stared at her, poleaxed by the wattage of her smile. It made her look almost beautiful.

He blurted out, “You should smile more often,” and in a daze followed her onto the dance floor.

Michael slowed to a shuffle and mouthed, “Everything okay?”

Crap, she was right. Again. He was being selfish. Forcing a smile, Connor gave Michael the thumbs-up.

Everything was great.

Right.

Somehow the maid of honor was in his arms, swaying into the wedding waltz, her dress soft and silky under the hands he hadn’t even realized he’d placed on her waist.

“How did you meet Michael?” she asked, still smiling up at him.

He again noticed how lovely her mouth was and forgot the sheer fury she aroused in him. It was, after all, a very distracting mouth. One taste…it would surely rid his tongue of the aftertaste of that awful champagne.

“We’re members of the same squash club. When our original partners stopped playing—” Paul had preferred the gym “—we were both at a loose end, so we teamed up.” That had been six years ago. Despite seeing his business partner every day of his life, Connor realized Michael had proved to be the better friend. He switched off that train of thought before the bleakness that had hovered over him for the past three days descended again.

No Paul or Dana today.

Not even dreaming up grisly plans for revenge.

“Do you work with Suzy?” he asked, determined to get his mind out of the rut it kept drifting back to. Maybe Michael was right and a date with Victoria would be a good distraction.

The smile faded and her eyes turned cool. “I’m an accountant—Michael told you that, remember?”

“That’s right.” No, a date with Victoria would be a very bad idea. “But should you have reminded me? Isn’t that rude?” He gave her a sharklike smile that held no humor.

“Not as impolite as your evident disinterest—you can’t even remember my name.”

Touché. He took in the flare of rosy color on her cheeks, the sparkle of spirit in her eyes. How had he ever thought she was dreary? “Your name is Victoria. And I can’t think why I thought you were a teacher.”

“Perhaps because I know Suzy?”

No, it was that silent reserve, and the way she didn’t hesitate to correct him. He wasn’t accustomed to that—except from his assistant Iris. And that was different; Iris was a friend of his mother’s and had known him for three decades.

“It’s the way you told me off.”

She slanted him an upward glance. “Yesterday or just now? Either way, you deserved it.”

Connor tried to convince himself that yesterday’s scene had been her fault, but he couldn’t shrug off the discomfort that lingered at the memory of the expression in Suzy’s eyes. Telling himself that Victoria had provoked him didn’t wash. He was accountable for his own actions, and the fact that his life was in chaos was irrelevant.

Instead of responding, he simply shrugged.

“I think you need people to stand up to you more often.”

She pursed that luscious mouth again and Connor had a wild desire to shake her out of her righteous complacency.

“Everyone seems to know what I need.” Her lips parted and Connor got the impression she, too, was about to tell him exactly what she thought he needed. Wickedly determined to silence her, he drew her closer into his arms, bent his head and murmured in her ear, “Michael thinks I need a woman.”



Alone with Suzy in the hotel’s honeymoon suite where they’d retreated to mend the flounce of Suzy’s wedding dress, Victoria couldn’t forget the heady excitement that dancing with Connor had aroused—or the words he’d whispered in her ear.

Michael thinks I need a woman.

His touch on her waist…the way he made her feel so fragile and feminine in his arms…the glorious male scent of him that had surrounded her. She shivered.

Heavens, it had been too long since she’d dated if a man she despised could reduce her to quivering desire, she decided acerbically. Victoria pulled the final stitch tight and savagely snapped off the thread. “There, that should hold as long as you don’t put a heel through the hem again.”

“Victoria, I need a favor.”

Glancing up from where she knelt beside Suzy, Victoria met Suzy’s eyes in the floor-to-ceiling mirrored closet doors. “What’s the favor?”

“Don’t feel you have to agree.”

“How bad can it be? Come on, spit it out.”

There was a pause as Victoria arranged the skirts around Suzy’s legs, waiting. Then, “It’s harder than I thought it would be.”

At the hesitant note in Suzy’s voice, Victoria’s attention sharpened. She rocked back on her heels—no easy task given the close-fitting sheath dress she’d chosen to wear. “You can ask me anything—you know that.”

“This is different…it’s difficult. And I’m going to swear you to secrecy if you agree. You can never, ever tell anyone about it.”

Curiouser and curiouser. “Can it be more difficult than asking me to tell your mother you’d driven over her rose-bushes? Did I refuse then?” Victoria raised an eyebrow, inviting Suzy to smile with her. “Granted, you didn’t swear me to secrecy that time.”

But Suzy didn’t laugh.

“You can’t be having second thoughts about your wedding?” Victoria’s heart sank at the thought. “You’re not about to run out on Michael, are you?”

Suzy’s blue eyes grew round. “Oh, no! I’d never do that. How could you even think that, Tory? Michael’s everything I ever dreamed of finding.”

The certainty in Suzy’s voice caused a sudden flare of envy. Pushing herself up off the carpet, Victoria suppressed it. She’d made her choices. After a string of disastrous relationships had ended in accusations that she was too ambitious, she’d decided there were more rewarding ways to fill her life.

She had her job. A fantastic job where she’d built up an impressive client list. And she had Suzy, the best and most loyal friend anyone could wish for.

She didn’t need a man…or a wedding.

So why on earth was she envying Suzy?

And realistically what chance did she have of finding the kind of man she wanted? A man who would let her keep the independence she craved, and love her for it? The memory of a pair of hard hands at her waist, a harsh whisper in her ear, stole over her. Certainly not a man like Connor North. Arrogant. Demanding. A man who didn’t even believe in love.

Drawing a shaky breath, Victoria forced herself to focus on Suzy, on the issue at hand rather than on the illusion of finding someone who would love her forever. “I just thought you might’ve belatedly remembered your vow never to marry again.”

“That was years ago.” Suzy waved a dismissive hand and turned to the mirror to study herself. “I’d just come from the lawyer’s office and a horrible fight about the divorce settlement with Thomas. Of course I was feeling a little sore about marriage.”

A little sore? Victoria almost laughed at the understatement but the tension in her friend’s shoulders warned against it. Suzy had studiously avoided weddings for a year after that first disastrous attempt at matrimony.

“I love Michael. I want…need…this time to work.” Suzy spun back, her dress whirling around in a froth of white, and slanted Victoria an imploring look. “You of all people must know that I want what Mum and Dad had.”

How had Suzy unerringly known to pick on the one thing that would silence Victoria?

Suzy’s parents had adored each other—and they’d been loving and incredibly kind. Whenever Victoria’s father had been overcome by a bout of wanderlust, her mother had retreated into a sobbing self-pity. It had been Suzy’s parents who had offered Victoria a bed for the night, cooked meals for her and ensured that she made it to school with her clothes clean and her homework done.

When they’d drowned in a boating accident, Suzy and Victoria had been at university and Victoria felt the double loss almost as acutely as her friend. She would never forget the sanctuary that Suzy’s home had become during her adolescent years. It had saved her, creating a debt she could never repay. Without Suzy and her parents, who knew how she would’ve turned out?

Victoria held her best friend’s gaze. “I hope you find the same happiness your parents had. I think it’s wonderful that you’ve found someone—I just don’t want you to be hurt again.”

Suzy threw her arms around Victoria. “Relax, Michael is nothing like Thomas.”

Clumsily hugging Suzy back, Victoria stared over her friend’s shoulder at their reflection in the mirror, Suzy so beautiful in her high-necked lacy wedding gown, the hem no longer dragging on the ground.

She wanted Suzy to stay happy forever. She’d hated how Thomas had made bright, bubbly Suzy so miserable. Just like her own father had killed all the joy in her mother…

How she’d resented her mother for allowing it. How she’d wished that her mother had stood up and told her father to leave, never to return—and to stop neglecting them both—rather than weeping pathetically and sinking into depression every time he vanished. If only her mother had been stronger, not so emotionally dependent on the handsome but feckless man she’d married.

Suzy’s arms dropped away. “Stop frowning, Tory. It’s my wedding day, remember?”

Victoria blinked. “How could I forget?” she said wryly, gesturing to their reflections in the mirror. “Your gorgeous dress…the flowers…the suite.”

“Connor arranged the suite—and our honeymoon to Hawaii. It’s his wedding present to us. Wasn’t that generous?”

Victoria had no intention of acknowledging any redeeming qualities in the man. “All this talk of secrets had me concerned. But if you’re truly happy then I have no cause to worry.”

There was an expression in Suzy’s eyes that Victoria had never seen before. A mixture of trepidation and yearning. The sinking feeling returned. “There is something! What is it, Suz? Are you in trouble?”

“Michael knows the reason my marriage to Thomas fell apart was because I couldn’t—” Suzy swallowed visibly “—have a baby.”

“Oh, Suzy.” Victoria took Suzy’s hands in hers. Despite the heating in the honeymoon suite, her friend’s fingers were cold.

“He knows that Thomas and I tried IVF and that it was unsuccessful. So we talked to a specialist. From my medical records, she thinks there’s still a chance I could get pregnant.”

“That’s wonderful!”

“But only if we can find an egg donor,” Suzy finished in a rush, pulling her hands free and, after a quick glance at Victoria, turning away to retrieve her bridal bouquet off the bed behind them.

“You want me to be your donor?” For a moment Victoria wondered what would be involved. Pain. Expense. All sorts of stuff she’d never had to contemplate before. Victoria took in Suzy’s tense figure, the way she hunched over her wedding bouquet as she waited for Victoria’s reply. What was some physical discomfort compared to Suzy’s pain? Suzy had already lost one husband because of her inability to conceive, and while Michael loved her, it would be understandable that she feared his love would diminish as time passed and other couples they knew started to conceive.

Suzy was more than a friend. She was the sister Victoria had never had. Her only family. The person she owed more than she could ever give back. “Of course I’ll do it. Consider it a gift. My wedding gift to you and Michael.” To help this marriage hold together. To bring Suzy the happiness she richly deserved.

Instantly she was enfolded in a fierce hug, and the fragrance from the posy of white roses and gardenias Suzy clutched wafted around them.

“Thank you!” Suzy’s eyes brimmed with tears as she pulled back. “That’s the best gift ever…even if it doesn’t work out and there’s no baby, I’ll never forget this.”

“Miracles have been known to happen. And no one deserves this miracle more than you, Suz.” Victoria felt her own throat clogging up. “Help, now you’re making me cry.”

Suzy gave her a radiant smile. “It’s okay to cry at weddings—so long as it’s the happy kind of crying. Now let’s get back downstairs—I intend to dance the night away.”



Connor wasn’t at the wedding table.

Michael thinks I need a woman. Victoria couldn’t get his mocking words out of her head. Maybe he’d decided to follow the groom’s advice and find a willing female. There would be no shortage of them among the guests.

Searching the dance floor, Victoria couldn’t pick out his dark hair and tall figure, which should have towered above everyone else. She drifted around the edge of the polished wooden floor and finally spotted him standing near the open glass doors that led out onto a wide veranda.

He turned his head as if he knew she was watching him and met her gaze. Without a word, he headed for the doors and Victoria followed automatically, drawn against all good sense.

“So do you want to dance out here in the starlight?” He stood in the shadows of the balcony, leaning against the railing, moonlight casting a strange silver-and-black glow over his face.

Her breath caught in her throat. The music spilled through the doors, a slow, sweet, seductive beat. It would take only two steps to bring her into his arms, to feel the heat of his body close to hers again. No. Madness! “The moon’s too bright tonight to speak of starlight.”

His white teeth glittered as he grinned. “You’re probably right—but then I’m sure you make a career of being right.”

He pushed away from the railing and moved toward her. “So do you concur with Michael, that the warmth of a woman’s body is what I need?” The words cut through the night.

Victoria swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Why hadn’t she just minded her own business? He wasn’t the kind of man to play with.

“If you don’t want to dance, what are you looking for? Are you here to offer yourself?” he murmured huskily. “It’s supposed to be one of the delights of being the best man, hooking up with the maid of honor. What fun.”

Victoria found nothing amusing in his biting tone. “No.” She backed up but, before she could retreat, his arms came around her and he lowered his head.

“Don’t—” she managed, and then his mouth ground down on hers.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. Full of whiskey and force and anger, it was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

Victoria struggled but his grip was tight, pinning her arms at her sides. He moved closer, his thighs thrusting against her softness, making it clear he was aroused.

God.

She fought herself free. “What the hell was that about?”

“I don’t like being manipulated.” He was breathing hard. “I don’t want a woman, understand?”

“You’re insane.” She resisted the urge to retort that he was fooling himself—he was desperate for a woman. For her.

“You’re saying you didn’t come out for exactly that? Conspiring with your friend, hoping to catch me on the rebound?”

“You are such a jerk.” She swung her back on him, determined to leave him out here alone.

He grabbed her and yanked her back. “Not nice.”

This time when his lips descended she knew what was coming—and tensed.

But it was different.

Soft, seductive. His tongue stroked the corners of her mouth until she parted her lips, granting him access. This time he kissed her with a dark desire that stirred wants that had never been woken. Dark, traitorous desires. And when his hands swept up over her arms, down her back, she edged closer, craving more—wishing he’d sweep her off to someplace private where they could spend hours together exploring naked skin and sweet sensations.

By the time he ended the kiss she was ready to do whatever he asked.

Connor North set her away from him with shaking hands. “Now, tell me that wasn’t what you wanted.”

She lifted a hand to her mouth, the fullness of her lips tingling. Damn Connor North. He must surely be aware of his effect on her. Sucking in a shuddering breath, she said, “Don’t try it again or I’ll slap you so hard it’ll leave marks on your face.”

He laughed. “Here—” he thrust a pristine, folded white handkerchief at her “—use this for that other dramatic gesture B-grade girls love. Wipe it across your mouth and make the necessary sounds of disgust.” His eyes glittered wildly in the half light.

Ignoring the shaky feeling inside, Victoria quirked one expressive, dark eyebrow. “Girls do that to you often?”

“No…but then the women I know don’t threaten to slap me, either.” His not-so-subtle emphasis of the word women caused color to flame in her face.

She balled the handkerchief in a fist, and he flinched as she raised it to his mouth.

“Stand still.” Her voice was tight. “Better I wipe my lipstick off your mouth.”

The curves of his mouth felt full and sensual under the fabric.

“There, I’m done.”

Connor stared down at the red stain on the white cloth and his lips twisted. “You should have left your mark on my mouth.”

He raised his head and Victoria felt the force of his reckless attraction hit her like a surge of current. “Why would I want to do that?” She injected scorn into her voice.

He shrugged carelessly. “It would have given all the gossips something to talk about other than my scurrilous split from Dana.”

“I don’t want to be linked to you.” Victoria was appalled at the idea. “So we’re going to go back to the table and smile like crazy—for Suzy and Michael’s sake. But after today I intend to take great pains to keep as far away from you as possible.”

“That won’t be necessary. You’re hardly my type…” he paused, then added tauntingly “…Elizabeth.”

Victoria spun away and stalked inside and quite spoilt the moment by failing to remind him that her name was Victoria.




Chapter Three


August, present day, two years later

Late on Monday afternoon, Connor walked out of the morgue in the small Northland town where the bodies had been taken and gulped in a lungful of crisp, fresh air. Michael. The face he’d known so well in life had been unrecognizable in death. And all the dazzling laughter had left Suzy forever. Connor craved the deep, cleansing peace of tears.

But grown men didn’t cry.

Nor did he have time to grieve. Picking up his pace, he jogged across the car park to where the Maserati waited.

But once inside, he sat motionless, staring blindly through the windshield.

He should call Victoria. The thought came from nowhere. He sighed. What the hell was the purpose? Except to upset her further.

Pulling out of the car park, he headed for the highway.

Not far from the exit to the town he saw again the sickening skid marks, and the white symbols the police had painted on the tarmac.

Driven by a nameless, senseless urge Connor pulled over and got out.

The grass verge was peppered with glass, and he stepped over the deep furrows Michael’s tires had gouged out of the turf. A light country breeze blew across his face and cars whizzed past. There was none of the sense that Michael’s spirit still lingered—as Connor realized he’d hoped for when he’d pulled over.

It’s not fair. They should be here! Victoria’s words rang in his ears.

Balling his fists against his eyes, he faced the fact that he would never again see the slight smile that changed Michael’s expression from intellectual to human. He would never again play squash against that killer competitive drive that few people knew Michael possessed.

A tidal wave of sorrow swept over him, and a moment later the aftershock of loneliness set in, paralyzing him.

Even after the fiasco with his ex-girlfriend and his business partner, he’d been able to act. He hadn’t even missed Dana—he’d kept himself too busy. Working like a fiend to get the Phoenix Corporation up. Going to the gym. Squash and beers with Michael. Dating a string of women who entertained but didn’t enthrall. While all the time Michael watched him with that quiet smile and offered advice that Connor hadn’t taken.

And now he’d never see Michael again.

Even fighting with Victoria had to be better than this miserable emptiness. Then he remembered her face as he’d last seen it yesterday. Devastated by the loss of Suzy. Again the compulsion to call Victoria nagged him.

Michael…

Hell.

He dropped his balled fists to his side, blinked rapidly and swallowed, furious at the hot tightness in his chest. Never was a long time. And right now it stretched before him endlessly.

He wasn’t accustomed to being powerless.

The only things left for him to do for Michael were so final—so futile. Arranging the funeral. Carrying the coffin. Executing his will. Ensuring that Dylan was protected.

A car swept by in a rush of air, the driver hooting, jerking him out of his trance of grief.

Dylan.

Connor raked both his hands through his wind-ruffled hair. Michael had loved Dylan; he loved Dylan, too.

No doubt about it, Dylan was special. Never had a baby been more loved. And that’s the way it had always been meant to be.

When, shortly after his wedding, Michael had confessed to Connor that he was sterile as a result of contracting mumps as a boy, Connor had agreed to donate sperm to allow the Masons a chance at a baby. It hadn’t been a hard decision for him to make. Anyone who knew Suzy and Michael could see that they were made to be parents. Perfect parents. Yet they’d worried about how their baby might one day react if he discovered Conner was his biological father.

Michael and Suzy had wanted the truth about his biological father to stay forever secret—and Connor had acquiesced to their request. The baby had always been intended to be theirs. Not his.

But now Michael and Suzy were dead.

Connor flinched at the finality of the word. But he would not break his vow to the Masons. At least not until Dylan was old enough to understand why he’d been created from his father’s friend’s seed.

The foggy lethargy that had clung to him for most of the day started to lift. Connor strode back to the Maserati.

At last he had something to do. Something worthwhile. He had a duty—one he would not fail in. He would bring Dylan up to remember the fine man that Michael had been. And someday, when Dylan was older, he would explain how much his parents had loved him—and wanted him. That would be the time to tell Dylan—and the world—the truth.



Victoria reached for the shrilling phone and Dylan’s eyes, which had been growing heavier, popped open. He again started to suck greedily on the bottle she’d been feeding him.

Juggling the handset and the bottle, she waited for him to settle again in the crook of her arm before saying, “Hello?”

“I’ll be there in under an hour.”

Her heart started to knock against her ribs. “Who is this speaking, please?”

“Don’t play games, Victoria,” growled Connor. “It’s been a hell of a day.”

Victoria fell silent. Her day had been pretty awful, too. First thing this morning she’d called Bridget Edge, the managing partner at work, to let her know she wouldn’t be in, that she was taking compassionate leave because her best friend had died.

There had been a short silence. Then, after uttering perfunctory condolences, Bridget had asked when she would be back at work.

Victoria had known in that moment it wouldn’t be wise to say anything about Dylan. Yet.

Bridget would never understand. She wasn’t married and had no children. How could Victoria have confessed that Dylan needed her right now? Or that she needed Dylan more than anything in the world? Bridget would’ve thought she’d lost her marbles. Finally Victoria said she would be back as soon as the funeral had been held.

Suzy had placed Dylan in a day care center a month ago. So far he’d only been going for half a day as Suzy eased herself back into teaching part-time. But if Dylan returned, it would save her from needing to make other arrangements—and keep his routine normal. Tomorrow she’d call the super-visor, let her know to expect Dylan back.

Tomorrow—when she’d gotten a handle on her grief and could talk without her throat tightening up.

Oh, Suzy!

She certainly didn’t feel like facing Connor in less than an hour. Her emotions were too raw, her heart too sore. “I’ve just gotten Dylan to sleep and I’m about to take a bath. Perhaps we can talk tomorrow?”

“I thought you might want a copy of Michael and Suzy’s will.”

“Michael and Suzy’s will?” Good grief, she hadn’t even given a thought to a will. Most unlike her. Her gaze dropped to Dylan, whose mouth was now just twitching on the teat. Emotion overwhelmed her in a hot, poignant wave. The baby had kept her mercifully busy most of the day. He’d been querulous, almost as if he knew…

Except that wasn’t possible.

Connor was speaking again. She forced herself to concentrate.

“Yes, a joint will. I’ve just dropped the original at my solicitor’s so they can start winding up the estate.”

“I could’ve done that. It’s not going to be a complicated estate.”

“You’re too busy. Besides I’m the executor.”

Hurt blasted her. She’d been the executor of Suzy’s will before Suzy had gotten married.

Dylan grunted uneasily.

Cuddling the baby closer, she rocked him in a slow rhythm. “I didn’t know Suzy and Michael had a joint will.”

She’d nagged Suzy a couple of times to update her will when she was pregnant, but after Dylan was born, Victoria had forgotten all about it in the hectic pace of everyday work. That would have been around the time she’d taken over two new, big accounts on top of her already crippling workload. She’d finally built the practice she’d always wanted, but not without sacrifice.

“My solicitor updated it for them about a year ago.” Connor’s voice was clipped. “There’s not a great deal in the estate.”

“They both worked for state schools. They had expenses…” Victoria broke off, then added lamely, “And debts.” She’d promised never to reveal her part in Dylan’s conception. It certainly wasn’t for her to reveal the staggering costs involved—she’d contributed a large sum despite Suzy and Michael’s resistance.

“Not surprising,” Connor concurred, “given they had a mortgage, too. But Michael took out life insurance to cover that.”

Victoria knew Connor had spent hours helping Michael renovate the Masons’s home. He’d even organized grants from a historic trust for assistance.

A sense of guilt filled her. Connor had clearly sorted out Michael’s money matters, whereas she, an accountant, had failed to protect Dylan and Suzy’s interests, leaving it to her new husband to look after her. And would his life insurance cover the IVF debts?

I’ll make it up to you, Dylan.

She stroked the baby’s soft head. He would want for nothing that was in her power to give him.

She’d contributed to Dylan’s coming into the world, given Michael and Suzy the precious eggs they’d needed.

Dylan was a part of her.

“Are you still there?” The impatience in Connor’s voice jerked her back.

“Yes. I was just thinking.” The baby had just fallen asleep with the suddenness that still took Victoria by surprise. “Once the estate’s been wound up I can invest the proceeds for Dylan.”

There was a deafening silence.

Then Connor said, “I’ve always looked after Michael’s business affairs.”

And she’d always helped Suzy. Except when she’d become too busy. Discomfort filled Victoria.

This was not a time for a power struggle. She had to do her best to accommodate Connor; already he’d done a better job of looking after Suzy—and Dylan—when she’d been remiss.

But it will never happen again, she silently promised the baby in her arms. She was nothing like her parents. She would never neglect Dylan.

“Connor, as executor of the estate, of course you’d need to approve the investments. I’m sure we’ll be able to work together in Dylan’s best interests.” She might not like him but they were both grown adults.

“I’m sure we will.” Connor didn’t sound nearly as convinced. “As Dylan’s—” he broke off “—guardian you can bet your bottom dollar I will be very interested.”

Her heart stopped. “Guardian?” she croaked. Her mind raced. Had Michael decided to appoint Connor North the baby’s guardian? “You are Dylan’s guardian?” Oh, Suzy, how could you let this happen?

Connor’s voice, terse and cool, came over the line. “That’s what I want to talk to you about. I’ll be there in half an hour.”



By the time Connor arrived, Victoria had laid Dylan down in his traveling cot, showered and changed into a simple long-sleeved dress, and had just poured herself a cup of tea.

Rushing across the living room to open the front door before Connor could ring the doorbell, she pressed her finger to her lips and motioned him into the kitchen. “I just got him to sleep.”

In the kitchen, Victoria honed in on the subject that had been eating at her since their telephone conversation. “I’d like to see the will.” She did her best to keep the hostility out of her voice, to keep it level and professional.

Connor drew a leather document holder from under his arm and eyed the counter, which was covered with dirty dishes.

Embarrassment spread through Victoria. But then he hadn’t been looking after a baby all day.

A surreptitious glance revealed lines of tiredness etched deep into his face, though they failed to mute the impact of his hard, handsome features.

Only the loosened tie and undone top button of his white shirt hinted at the turmoil he must be going through.

The will could wait—whatever it held would not change now. And Connor looked like a train wreck.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“God, I don’t know if I need more stimulants,” Connor muttered, leaning against the counter.

She gestured to the crowded countertop. “I’ve just made tea for myself. Would you like a cup?”

She took his grunt as assent, poured him a cup of tea from the little white teapot and topped the brew up with boiling water.

He glared into the cup she passed him. “What the hell is this?”

“Chamomile tea,” she said sweetly. “Lots of antioxidants. Good for you in times of stress.”

“I doubt it will help.” His startlingly pale eyes clashed with hers but the opacity in them caused Victoria’s heart to bump and her throat to contract with painful emotion. She wanted to offer him the same comfort she craved—an embrace that went beyond words—but she knew he wouldn’t accept it. Not from her.

And to be truthful she didn’t care much for him, either. But she felt empathy for him—in the same way she felt pity for herself. She’d lost the person she’d been most deeply bonded to in the world. And, hard as it was to imagine Rock-Man bonded to anyone, Michael had been fond of him. Judging by the emptiness in Connor’s eyes, somewhere in that cold heart he’d been fond of Michael, too.

The sadness—the futility of it all—made her want to weep.

But she couldn’t let herself forget that he was Dylan’s guardian now. Please God, he hadn’t been granted custody, too.

Connor wasn’t the right person to bring up Dylan—he was too hard. Yet, given the animosity between them, it would be no easy task convincing him she was the right person. But failure to do so was not an option.

Because even though she hadn’t carried him in her womb, Dylan had been conceived from her egg—he was her baby.

“Come and sit out here.” Picking up the two cups and saucers she led him to the small deck that opened off the living room, edged with planter boxes filled with primulas and purple pansies.

Without a word, Connor followed.

Once seated, he placed the leather document holder on the white wrought-iron table where she often ate breakfast, and zipped it open.

Unable to restrain herself, Victoria snatched up the will, scanning the headings as she flicked through the pages. And found the clause that spelled out guardianship and custody.




Chapter Four


Fury bubbled up inside Victoria. She threw the papers down on the table and her chair scraped back against the deck. “You told me you were Dylan’s guardian,” she accused.

“Coguardian.” Connor shrugged. “And we share custody, too. We need to discuss it.”

The coldhearted bastard had nearly given her heart failure. She’d thought she’d have to beg to be allowed a say in Dylan’s upbringing. All her unspoken reservations about her ability to be the kind of mother that Dylan needed came crashing in on her.

A gust of chilly wind cut through the fabric of her dress. She shivered. Crossing her arms, she rubbed her hands absently up and down her body. She couldn’t allow her insecurities to take hold. She had to believe in herself. Because she was the only parent Dylan had.

Joint custody and coguardianship. How on earth was that going to work? Damn, what had Suzy been thinking?

Or not thinking.

Clearly Suzy had not imagined dying. Suzy would not have thought how impractical it all was to juggle such a young baby between two households.

Sure, it had been done before. But Connor had no motive to cooperate—it wasn’t as if he was the baby’s father. Still, as a single man who ran a large business, he probably wouldn’t want to be hamstrung with a baby. Her heart lifted a little at the realization. In fact, he’d be glad to be rid of the burden.

Connor moved his chair a little nearer and Victoria tensed as she always did when he invaded her space. He stopped, too close now, and leaned toward her. Protectively she tightened her arms around herself. She could smell the crisp, lemony scent of his aftershave, which still lingered after the long day.

The light-gray eyes held her captive. “Victoria, if you don’t mind keeping Dylan for another day or so while I get a room ready and painted out for him, I’ll take him as soon as I can. Certainly by Thursday.”

The spell snapped. Don’t mind keeping Dylan? Then give him up to Connor in a day or two? That wasn’t happening!

Pushing her chair back, she leapt to her feet. “Dylan will live with me,” she cut in, desperate to get this settled as quickly as possible.

“With you?” Connor tilted his head back and gave her a raking glance. He looked unnervingly assured. “No way!”

“What do you mean, no way?” For one awful moment she thought he’d seen all the way to her soul. Read her doubts about her mothering abilities. Then she pulled herself together. She would learn. She would ask the caregivers at the day-care center a thousand questions. There was no way she could do a worse job than her own parents. “How will you cope with a baby? You don’t even have a home!” At the blaze of fury in his eyes Victoria wished she’d left the last rash bit unsaid. Heck, she didn’t even know if it was still true. “I mean, your ex took your home.”

“And I bought another,” he said very softly, his eyes glinting dangerously.

So he thought a home could simply be bought?

Something of her skepticism must have shown, because he added, “I have a house with a garden to play ball in and a swimming pool to splash around in—not a shoebox like this.” Connor cast a disparaging look around the small deck, his gaze pointedly resting on the pale-cream couches and white carpets visible through the glass sliders. “At least Dylan will be able to grow up a boy in my home. What kind of life would he have here?”

“I’ll buy a suburban house with a garden,” she said, thinking back to the warmth and love that had filled Suzy’s parents’ home. “I haven’t needed more than this until now.”

She could afford to do it. Her savings were in a healthy state. Despite the lump sum she’d insisted on giving Suzy to help with the IVF expenses, which had been worth every cent. The outcome had been Dylan.

“And that’ll mean your commute to work will increase.” He gave her that sharklike smile. “Or did you intend to stop working?”

“Of course not!”

She needed to carry on working, otherwise how would she be able to give Dylan everything he deserved? Good day care and private schooling were expensive. And Dylan would get the best. She had no intention of leaving Dylan to the mercy of her own ignorance. And besides, it wasn’t only for Dylan. She loved her job. It gave her a sense of self-worth. And it paid pretty damn well, too. She couldn’t imagine giving up the client base she’d worked so hard to build. Nor would she ever throw away the independence she’d strived all her adult life to secure.

“Don’t try telling me you would give up work if Dylan lived with you,” she challenged, “because I won’t swallow it.”

“But I can take as much time off as I want to spend with Dylan—I’m the boss. And I have a full-time housekeeper. Dylan would be well cared for. It has nothing to do with double standards.” His bleak gaze settled on her. “Unlike you, I can devote as much time to Dylan as he needs.”

The emptiness that lay behind his eyes was the very reason she could never surrender Dylan into his care. He would never be able to convince her he could give Dylan more love than she could. If her parenting skills were in doubt, Connor’s were even more so.

A strong surge of maternal yearning took her by surprise. She swallowed. She would not lose Dylan to the block of rock who stood in front of her.

The baby was hers.

Hers.

And she would fight with everything she possessed, every weapon at her disposal, to make sure Dylan stayed with her. She, at least, was capable of giving him love.

“He’s not leaving here.” She realized her voice had risen.

“Victoria, be sensible—”

“I’m being perfectly sensible.”

He gave a snort. “With the hours you work you don’t have time for a baby. Suzy told me—me and Michael,” he amended as her brows drew together. “She was worried about you. She thought you’d buried yourself alive. All you lived for was building a practice that would lead to more status.”

“Buried myself alive?” The idea that Suzy had discussed her with Connor hurt. “What about you? You started a new company—and not just any company, the Phoenix Corporation is a huge venture.”

“Yes, but I employ a large staff, I delegate—I don’t do everything myself. I still found time to visit Michael and Suzy—”

“You pig!” Victoria couldn’t believe she’d heard right. “How can you say that? You cruel—”

“Oh, God, I’m sorry, Victoria.” His chair crashed backward and he came toward her, his hands outstretched. “I didn’t mean it that—”

She slapped his hands away. “You meant it exactly that way.” Her fingers stung. She stared down at her reddening palms. The tears she’d stanched so fiercely for the past two days leaked out.

“Victoria, I’m sorry.” His arms closed around her.

She fought him off, elbowing him fiercely. “Let go of me, damn you!”

He dropped his arms and stepped back, breathing heavily.

She stormed past him through the glass sliders. Half a dozen strides carried her across the living room and she yanked the front door open, her clammy hands clutching the door handle to keep her trembling knees from giving out. She’d wanted him to hold her, to share the grief…but never like this. “Get out.”

“We need to talk about Dy—”

“I have nothing to say to you. Go.”

“Victoria—”

She kept her gaze averted, horribly conscious of the soundless tears streaming down her face and the nausea rising in the back of her throat. “Please, just go.”

He stumbled past her. At the last moment he turned. “If you need—”

Hot, blinding anger surged, and she said, “I don’t need anything you can give me.”

Without another word Connor left.



The funeral was finally over. Mourners huddled in groups in the church hall sipping coffee from white cups.

Connor glanced to where Victoria stood in silence beside three women who he assumed must’ve been friends of Suzy’s. The scooped neckline of the fitted black dress she wore accentuated her collar bones and the delicate line of her throat, and her tall, slender body moved to-and-fro as she rocked Dylan. But she didn’t spare him a glance. She’d barely spoken to him today.

Guilt gnawed at him. How had he managed to screw up so royally two nights ago? Judging by the dark rings around her eyes, she hadn’t slept since. She was hurting. He could feel it. Hell, she’d made him so mad, but that was no excuse. Nor did the knowledge that he’d never intended to wound her so deeply ease his guilt.

He was worse than the pig she’d called him.

She’d loved Suzy. She would never forgive him for implying that she’d neglected Suzy before her tragic death. And how could he blame her?

The baby’s head was nestled close against her shoulder, and Dylan’s eyes widened with interest as Connor came closer.

“Here, let me take the baby.”

He saw her stiffen, her hold tighten around the baby, as she became aware of him. “No!”

Did she think he was going to rip the baby away from her?

“Please?” Couldn’t she see his remorse? “Dylan must be heavy.”

She edged away from the group she’d been standing with, but not before one of them gave him a strange look. He didn’t care. It was Victoria that concerned him right now.

“We’re fine.”

Her pallor, her reddened eyes, the way her fingers dug into the blanket that swaddled Dylan gave lie to that. She so wasn’t fine. But he wasn’t about to argue with her here for everyone to see.

“Victoria…” Connor searched for the words that would mend everything between them, that would put them back into the state of almost-truce that had existed before his in-sensitive accusation. And came up dry.

“Go away,” she hissed. “You’re not taking the baby from me.”

“Victoria—” An elegant woman with short hair wearing a black-and-white houndstooth suit came up beside them eyeing Connor with curiosity. “I wanted to say how sorry I am for the loss of your friend.”

“Thank you, Bridget.”

“And who is this fellow?” Bridget studied Dylan with decidedly wary eyes, causing Connor to suppress his first grin in days.

“This is Dylan, Suzy’s baby.”

“Oh.” Bridget exchanged long looks with Victoria. “How dreadful. Is her family looking after him?”

“Suzy doesn’t have any close family—her parents are dead, and she was an only child. Dylan’s been staying with me.”

His smile fading, Connor watched Bridget—whoever the hell she was—process that information silently. Victoria must have seen her doubts, too, because her arms tightened around the baby, causing Dylan to squawk in protest.

Connor reached for the wriggling baby. “I’ll hold him for you.” Dylan lurched toward him with a gurgle before Victoria could argue.

Bridget examined him with interest.

Connor nodded politely.

With visible reluctance Victoria performed the introductions. “Bridget, this is Connor North, a friend of the Masons. Connor, Bridget Edge is managing partner at Archer, Cameron and Edge.”

“Connor North? Of the Phoenix Corporation?” Bridget’s gaze sharpened. Connor could see her mentally tallying up his assets. “I didn’t know you were connected to Phoenix, Victoria.”

Victoria looked trapped.

Connor couldn’t resist saying wickedly, “We’ve been friends for years. We met at Suzy and Michael’s wedding—I was best man and Victoria was maid of honor.”

“How romantic.” Bridget gave him a thin smile before her gaze settled back on Dylan. “This arrangement of looking after the baby isn’t going to be permanent, is it?”

“No,” said Connor.

“Yes,” said Victoria, her color high.

Dylan blew a raspberry.

“Well, it sounds like you two have matters to sort out.” Bridget’s carefully plucked eyebrows were nearly up to her hairline. “Please call me at the office later, Victoria. I think we should talk.”

The tension in Victoria’s slim figure only increased with her boss’s departure. As the last of the stragglers drifted out, leaving Connor alone with Victoria…and a sleeping Dylan in his car seat, he said, “Come, it’s been a long day. Time for me to take the two of you home.”

“You know I’m going to have to call the office,” said Victoria.

Work. The funeral barely over and already she was fretting about work.

“All Frigid wants is for you to confirm that the baby won’t interfere with your billable hours.” Connor knew his cynicism was showing.

“Bridget. Her name is Bridget.”

He kept his face deadpan. “I’ve always had a problem with names—you know that.”

“Let it go, Connor.” But her lips twitched.

So she did have a sense of humor. If he hadn’t been watching her carefully he’d have missed that barely perceptible movement.

Outside the sky had turned gray and ominous, promising rain. As they headed toward the row of pines where the Maserati was parked, Connor said, “If Dylan comes to stay with me that will solve all her concerns.”

“No.”

So Victoria was digging in her heels. Connor knew the only way he was going to make her see sense was to be brutal.

“You’ll never be able to raise a boy.” Pausing beside the car, he set the infant seat down and opened the rear door. After securing the infant seat without waking Dylan, he turned back to Victoria and raked his gaze over her, telling her without words that he considered her wanting. “I give you two weeks tops before you surrender.”

For a moment, he thought he’d shaken her. Then she narrowed her pinkened eyes. “You don’t think I can do this? I’m the one who was watching him in the first place!”

Victoria had backbone, he had to give her that. But then, given her career he would’ve expected it. The question was: would she be able to cope all alone with a demanding job and a baby? He doubted it.

Connor took in her hands clenched in front of her breasts, and the way her mouth trembled. Her crushed-rose lips only emphasized her pallor. She looked too damned fragile.

For a moment he considered sweeping her into his arms, holding her close…

Then he shook the impulse away.

This was Victoria, not some frail butterfly. And she didn’t need anything from him—she’d told him so herself.

He stepped closer to her. “That wasn’t a dare. You don’t need to prove anything to me. All I want is Dylan.” And dammit, that was the truth of it. “Make it easy on yourself, let him stay with me.” That’s what he wanted desperately—what Michael would’ve wanted—his son to stay with him. But he couldn’t say that. He’d already hurt her enough. “You can come and visit as often as you want.”

The gold-green eyes that clashed with his were full of turbulence. “You think I haven’t thought of letting him go to you? But I can’t!”

“Why not?” he challenged.

“Because…” She gnawed at her lip.

“Because?” he prompted, forcing his gaze not to linger on her mouth.

“Don’t ask this of me.” There were shadows in her eyes that went way beyond grief. “I can’t do it.”

“It would be the easy solution.”

She hesitated, clenching and unclenching her hands. “Easy solutions aren’t always right. Suzy and I had been inseparable since we were five. I met her on our first day of school. Did you know that?”

He shook his head.

“She was tiny, like a beautiful, blue-eyed doll. She had blond curls, whereas I had dead straight, mousy hair. I felt so thin and tall next to her—she made me want to look after her.”

Victoria’s eyes had glazed over, and Connor knew she’d forgotten about him, about where they were, about the approaching storm. She was in a place he could not reach.

“We seemed like such opposites. Suzy so social, me so quiet.”

“You were fortunate that your friendship endured for all those years.”

“She was so much more than a friend. More than a sister, even. She was my confidante. My family. The person I trusted more than anyone else in the world when my family let me down.” Her gaze cleared. “I can’t give Dylan up. Don’t ask it of me.”

Connor’s sigh went all the way to his soul. He’d already hurt her beyond belief with his swipe that she hadn’t had time for Suzy before she died. How could he take her last link with her friend away from her? Even though he knew that Michael would’ve wanted Dylan to be with him.

The provision for sharing of guardianship and custody in the will had startled him. Victoria was a working woman who clearly didn’t have time for bringing up a child. What had the Masons been thinking? Suzy must’ve insisted on it, never believing the will would have to be acted on long before Dylan grew to adulthood.

But whatever the will provided for, it was absolutely irrefutable that Suzy’s death had left a vast chasm in Victoria’s life.

Connor drew a deep breath and made the biggest concession of his life. Despite what he believed was the right thing for Dylan—and him, he would go along with the provisions of the will. “Then we’ll have to split the custody—work out which of us gets which days.”

Emotion flashed in her eyes. “How can you even suggest that? It took Dylan almost the whole weekend to settle with me. He’s missing his parents, and now you’re suggesting ripping him away from me.”

“Not ripping,” said Connor firmly. “We’ll share him.”

“And he’s going to know what’s happening?” She shook her head so hard the silken mass of her hair whipped from side to side. “No, he’s not going to understand the terms of a custody arrangement. His parents are gone. Right now everything in his little life is in upheaval. I’m his only constant. How can you yank up the few roots he has left and take him away from me?”

She had a point. He remembered how Dylan had snuggled against her earlier.

“And you can’t take Dylan away from my home. That’s all that’s familiar to him right now. Another change of place is going to unsettle him all over again.”

He tilted his head to one side and replayed her words through his mind—Another change of place is going to unsettle him all over again. “That’s it!”

At his exclamation Victoria stared at him as though he’d taken leave of his senses.

He hit a hand against his forehead. “The answer is simple.”




Chapter Five


“Come on.” Connor held open the door.

Victoria hesitated only for a second. No way was she abandoning Dylan to Connor and the powerful Maserati.

She stepped past Connor, catching a whiff of lemon and male, and settled into the passenger seat. The acreage of leather was seductively plush, and before she could protest Connor had leaned across her and clicked the seat restraint into place, strapping her in.

She’d barely recovered from the jolt to her senses of having him so close when he joined her in the intimacy of the cockpit.

“Ready?”

Victoria nodded, unsure what she was letting herself in for.

The motor roared, and the rich, husky voice of Nina Simone poured from the surround-sound system, silencing even Dylan. Connor’s hands slid over the steering wheel with such tactile pleasure that Victoria had to suppress a groan. A moment later he swung the vehicle out of the churchyard.

The journey passed in a flash. As Connor throttled back the surging engine, Victoria glimpsed through the side window a familiar oak with wide, spreading branches.

What were they doing outside Suzy and Michael’s home?

She struggled impotently to unlock the car door, until—to her immense frustration—Connor strode around and freed her.

Clambering out, she slung her tote over her shoulder and asked, “Why have you brought us here, Connor?”

“Let me get Dylan first.”

Nostalgia welled up as she stared at the Edwardian cottage that had been Suzy and Michael’s home since their marriage—and where she had spent so many happy hours.

She wandered across the sidewalk to the low, white wooden gate.





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