The Honeymoon House

“Paul, Let’s Pretend This Is Our Honeymoon House,” Letter to Reader Title Page About the Author Dedication Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Epilogue Copyright

“Paul, Let’s Pretend This Is Our Honeymoon House,”

Danielle said. “Just for tonight.”

Paul swooped her up in his arms. “Like this?” He brought her back outside into the darkness. Then he carried her over the threshold, like a groom with his bride.

Danielle felt a burst of joy. “I feel like we’re marr—” She stopped herself. She couldn’t spoil the beautiful moment between them. She didn’t want to scare him off. Not when he was feeling so close to her.

“Let’s do it the right way,” Paul whispered as he carried her up the winding staircase to the master bedroom....

Dear Reader,

This month we have some special treats in store for you, beginning with Nobody’s Princess, another terrific MAN OF THE MONTH from award-winning writer Jennifer Greene. Our heroine believes she’s just another run-of-the-mill kind of gal...but naturally our hero knows better. And he sets out to prove to her that he is her handsome prince...and she is his princess!

Joan Elliott Pickart’s irresistible Bishop brothers are back in Texas Glory, the next installment of her FAMILY MEN series. And Amy Fetzer brings us her first contemporary romance, a romantic romp concerning parenthood—with a twist—in Anybody’s Dad.

Peggy Moreland’s heroes are always something special, as you’ll see in A Little Texas Two-Step, the latest in her TROUBLE IN TEXAS series.

And if you’re looking for fun and frolic—and a high dose of sensuality—don’t miss Patty Salier’s latest, The Honeymoon House. If emotional and dramatic is more your cup of tea, then you’ll love Kelly Jamison’s Unexpected Father.

As always, there is something for everyone here at Silhouette Desire, where you’ll find the very best contemporary romance.

Enjoy!

Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to: Silhouette Reader Service U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo. NY 14269 Canadian: P.O. Box 609. Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

Patty Salier

The Honeymoon House

www.millsandboon.co.uk

PATTY SALIER

Born and raised in Gravesend, Brooklyn, in New York, Patty credits her mother for her keen logic and her father for her curious, creative mind. She has been a published writer for many years. To Patty, her wonderful husband and two great children are everything she could want in life. “I’ve got so much to be thankful for.”

For my wonderful husband, lover and best friend,

Edward, and for my extraordinarily gifted children,

Diana and Jeff.

One

Danielle Ford swallowed the nervous lump in her throat as she sat on the black leather sofa in Mr. Harrington’s Century City office in Los Angeles.

Danielle was so anxious about the job interview that her panty hose stuck to her legs like seaweed. She yearned to remove the moist nylon and set her bare legs free.

“Danielle, the original architect I hired to design the honeymoon house I plan to build for my wife has fallen ill,” began Harwood Harrington, a graying businessman in his early fifties. “Your sister, Lisa, who as you know is my real estate broker, told me that you’re the perfect architect to take his place.”

Danielle’s stomach fluttered with excitement. “Mr. Harrington, I’ve got great ideas for your honeymoon house.”

Did she ever! Her sister and roommate, Lisa, had told her that Mr. Harrington wanted a cozy, romantic home for his young bride, with a cute nursery for the baby he dreamed of having with her.

“May I see your portfolio, Danielle?” Mr. Harrington requested in a warm but professional tone.

Her hands were trembling. “Sure, Mr. Harrington.” She anxiously handed him her portfolio, praying he’d hire her.

Mr. Harrington studied her work and frowned. “Lisa didn’t tell me that you only have two houses under your architectural belt.”

Danielle nervously clasped and unclasped her hands. “Yes, only two, but the owners were extremely pleased with my work. I can give you their phone numbers for references.”

She suddenly felt ill. She didn’t dare tell Mr. Harrington that there was a third house she had designed in her budding career as a junior architect.

The Tilden house had been her very first project, and a total disaster. But it wasn’t all her fault. The building contractor, Paul Richards, whom she’d never met, had ruined the project for her.

She shifted nervously on the chair, feeling her panty hose bonding like glue to her skin. If Mr. Harrington found out about the catastrophe, she’d never get the job. Nobody knew except Paul Richards.

Danielle yanked at her panty hose when he wasn’t looking.

Mr. Harrington leaned forward on his oak desk. “Danielle, your sister, Lisa, has gotten me terrific deals on real estate for the past few years. I owe her many favors. But I must be honest with you. I’d prefer working with an architect with denser experience.”

Danielle’s throat went dry. “Mr. Harrington, I’ve made a computer sketch of the most romantic honeymoon house you could ever dream of,” she quickly said, giving her last push. “Please let me show it to you. I’ve got the disk right here.”

As she frantically searched her black leather briefcase for the disk, the telephone rang. It was Saturday and his secretary wasn’t in, so Mr. Harrington answered the phone himself.

Just as she found the disk, he hung up.

“Danielle, I’ve got to drive to West L.A. to resolve a business problem.” He rose from his desk. “I should be back in forty-five minutes or so. Feel free to set up your architectural program on my computer. I look forward to seeing your vision of my house.”

Danielle’s spirits rose as he left the office. She still had a chance. She ran to his computer and inserted her disk. What he didn’t know was that it wasn’t just the honeymoon house job she wanted.

Her sister, Lisa, told her that Harrington was planning to build a new children’s library in Santa Monica.

Danielle sucked in her breath. A children’s library. She’d promised her parents, dedicated elementary-school teachers, that someday she’d design a children’s library in their honor. When her mother and father were killed in an automobile accident a few years later, she’d vowed to keep her heartfelt promise to them.

That’s why she had to get this job. If Mr. Harrington hired her, he’d see what a great architect she was. Then he wouldn’t be able to resist hiring her as the architect for his new children’s library.

Danielle’s heart soared as her design of Mr. Harrington’s contemporary honeymoon house appeared on the screen. As she pulled the chair closer to the computer to get a better view, her panty hose caught on a sharp edge of the desk. A huge, gaping hole appeared in her nylons.

“That’s it!” she called out. “You’re coming off!”

Danielle ran out to the reception area. She searched the secretary’s desk for the ladies’ room key. But the desk was locked.

She glanced out the office door into the fifteenth-floor hallway. The hall was deserted on that Saturday. She returned to Harrington’s private office, closed his door—and realized there was no lock.

She remembered he had said he’d be back in forty-five minutes or so. She had time. So she quickly lifted her skirt and began tugging down her panty hose.

In the multilevel Century City underground parking structure, Paul Richards drove his faded green van, looking for a parking space. He was so eager to talk to Mr. Harrington that he was forty minutes early for his appointment.

He was just about to turn into a spot, when the engine sputtered and died.

“You did it again,” he groaned, shaking his head. His van had stalled out on him fifteen times in the past month.

He pulled out a wrench from his construction tool belt lying on the worn passenger seat. He got out and yanked open the hood of the van, then tinkered with the valves to get the engine going again.

He needed a new van. He needed to pay his mortgage on his small cottage in Santa Monica. And he needed his general contracting business to grow, because residential building was at a record low.

At his last meeting with Mr. Harrington, Paul had handed him a business proposal. Harrington had the finances, and Paul had the construction talent. Paul hoped to create a partnership with Mr. Harrington to construct commercial buildings.

“Paul, I like your idea of a partnership,” Harrington had told him. “With me as the financier, you as the general contractor and Victor Horton, the architect you recommended, we could make an unbeatable team.”

If only Harrington would make his final decision, Paul wouldn’t be sweating it out anymore. As he slammed down the hood of his van, he anxiously glanced at his watch, wanting to hurry up to Mr. Harrington’s office.

A few minutes later, Paul quietly entered Mr. Harrington’s reception area. He wished he’d dressed properly for the meeting. He’d rushed from a construction site and was sweaty in work shorts and a T-shirt.

Paul noticed that the door to Mr. Harrington’s private office was closed. Mr. Harrington had told him many times to just walk in without knocking when he came by on a Saturday.

He wiped his perspiring hands on his shorts, turned the doorknob and barreled into the office.

“Mr. Harrington—” Paul’s words caught in his throat.

Standing in front of him was a shapely female holding up her skirt in one hand and panty hose in the other. His gaze landed on her tanned bare legs and pink bikini panties.

“What are you doing in here?” Danielle shrieked. She yanked down her skirt. Her cheeks turned bloodred with embarrassment.

Paul leaned against the door, unable to take his eyes off her. Her black hair flowed down her shoulders like silk. “Exactly what are you doing in here?” he asked, glancing at the nylon hose in her hand.

She immediately stuck the panty hose in her briefcase. “I—I have some work on the computer that I need to show Mr. Harrington when he returns,” she stammered. “So if you will please leave...”

“Leave?” Paul repeated, incredulous. “I’m here to see Mr. Harrington, too.”

“You can wait outside.”

“Are you throwing me out?”

She stared at him with bold turquoise eyes. “Listen, Mr. Whoever You Are, if you don’t get out of here in three seconds, I‘ll—I’ll—”

He was definitely intrigued. “You’ll what?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll do something!”

Paul smiled. “I’m open to all possibilities.”

“You’re—you’re impossible!”

Danielle felt exasperated, embarrassed, but most of all, she was frustrated at herself for being so attracted to him.

His charcoal gray eyes twinkled mischievously at her. He had curly brown hair that gave him a boyish quality. His green T-shirt hugged the hard muscles of his broad chest. She had to force her eyes away from the ample bulge in his denim shorts.

“Tell me,” he began. “Who are you? I’ve been here hundreds of times. I definitely would’ve remembered you.”

His steady gaze made her knees grow weak. “You first,” she insisted.

No man had ever thrown her off balance the way he had. She had to sit up on the edge of the desk to steady herself.

“Okay,” he began. “I’m—”

Just then, Mr. Harrington entered the office. “Paul, good to see you!”

Danielle immediately jumped off the oak desk, feeling like a complete fool. “Mr. Harrington, we were just talking.”

“Danielle Ford meet Paul Richards,” Mr. Harrington said. “Paul is the building contractor on my honeymoon house. And, Paul, Danielle is an architect interested in designing my house.”

“Paul Richards?” she repeated, incredulous. It couldn’t be. Paul Richards was the building contractor who’d ruined her first project, the Tilden house. And to top it off, he’d later given her an awful reference when a potential client of hers had inquired, even though he’d never even met her.

“Danielle Ford?” Paul asked.

The knowing twinkle in his charcoal eyes told how he obviously recognized her name.

“What a superb pleasure to meet you.”

Danielle was suddenly aware of Paul’s strong hand closing over hers. Though her mind fought it, she felt an electricity rush from his masculine hand through her entire body.

“Have you two ever worked together?” Mr. Harrington inquired curiously.

Danielle gulped. One word from Paul about the Tilden house, and her dreams of designing the honeymoon house and the children’s library were over.

“Hmmm...now, let me see,” Paul began with a teasing glint in his eyes.

She held her breath, begging him with her eyes not to say anything to Mr. Harrington about the Tilden house.

“While you two are thinking,” Mr. Harrington said, “I’ll take a look at Danielle’s computer sketch.”

As Mr. Harrington sat down at the computer to study her work, she felt panicky at not knowing what to do.

Paul leaned over to her and asked in a whisper, “You didn’t tell Mr. Harrington about your botched-up job, did you?”

“My botched up job?” she repeated. “You were the one who constructed the house all wrong!”

“No way!” he shot back in a hushed voice. “You designed a humongous house on a tiny piece of property. Your kitchen measurements were totally out of whack, and the kitchen ended up being larger than the living room. And you forgot to draw plumbing plans, so the bathroom had no pipes!”

Her hands shot to her hips, and in a low whisper she retorted, “Really? I saw pictures of the house after your construction. The windows you installed were lopsided. The floorboard was put in crooked. Nails popped out from the drywall. Great work, Mr. Richards!”

Paul flinched as though she’d truly insulted him. “Okay, okay,” he finally murmured in exasperation. “I took on too many jobs at the time. I was building three houses at once and ended up exhausted in bed for two months with pneumonia. I admit, I didn’t oversee the Tilden house properly. What’s your excuse?”

She nervously glanced at Mr. Harrington. Her hopes rose as he put on his spectacles to look more closely at her design.

“I was just out of architectural school,” she replied in a super-hushed voice, moving closer to Paul. “The firm that hired me was short on experienced architects. Just as I was completing the plans, the project was accidentally taken away from me before I could check for errors.”

Paul’s rugged face was so near that she could feel his warm breath on her cheeks. His gaze went down to her lips. For a crazy second, she felt he was mentally kissing her And she wanted to kiss him back.

Danielle quickly stepped away from him. She could never get involved with a man she worked with ever again. Not after what had happened with her ex-boyfriend Kevin.

She forced her words out in a whisper. “If you knew the Tilden house was partly your wrongdoing, why did you give me such a poor job reference after that project? One client wouldn’t hire me because of what you told her.”

Paul held her eyes with his. “How could I lie about your inadequate plans?”

“You could have said it was your fault, too!”

“The client was questioning your architectural competence, not my workmanship.”

“Lucky for you!”

“Hey—”

Mr. Harrington got up from the computer. “Paul,” he said, “do you think you could work with Danielle on my house?”

“Mr. Harrington, do I have the job?” Danielle hesitantly asked, praying she’d heard right.

Mr. Harrington pointed to her computerized architectural sketch. “Your version of my honeymoon house is exactly what I have in mind. Now I need Paul’s expert opinion, since he would be the one working directly with your plans.”

Danielle held her breath. Paul’s charged eyes were on her. Her skin grew warm. The powerful attraction she felt toward him scared her. She had to keep business and her personal feelings far, far apart with Paul.

“Let’s do it,” Paul said, his gaze never leaving her.

“Wonderful!” Mr. Harrington said.

She was exhilarated straight down to her toes. “Thank you, Mr. Harrington!” But as her eyes held Paul’s, she felt an instant set of reservations. How could she work with him, when all she kept thinking about was how incredibly sexy he was?

“I must admit,” Mr. Harrington continued. “I like the idea of my honeymoon house being planned and built by a man-woman team. However, I have one stipulation.”

“Sure, Mr. Harrington,” Danielle quickly said, not wanting anything to spoil her job.

“I need my architect and general contractor to work very closely on this project. The house is a gift of love to my new wife and our future family. I’d like a lot of love to go into the building of it.”

Danielle’s gaze mingled with Paul’s. Her heart thumped in her chest. What was he thinking? Did she see an intimate glint in his expression, or was it just her fantasy?

Her voice came out shaky. “I—I have no problem with that.”

“Mr. Harrington, I’m ready to start,” Paul added without hesitation.

Mr. Harrington slapped his hands together. “Paul, I want a full-size trailer set up on the construction site, and I want the trees cleared off the property immediately.”

Danielle was so overjoyed that she couldn’t remember picking up her briefcase. “Thanks again, Mr. Harrington.” Her body was bursting with joy. “I think you’ll be very pleased with my work.”

Mr. Harrington shook her hand. “I’m positive of it.” He opened his office door for her. “Send me your entire plan. I’ll make my changes, and we’ll get it to the building department for approval. I want the house completed without a moment’s delay.”

Danielle’s heart was soaring. “I’ll get it to you immediately.”

She practically floated out of his office. Now that she’d gotten the job, she was one step closer to talking to Mr. Harrington about his choosing her as the architect for his children’s library.

However, as she got into the elevator, a sudden attack of anxiety overwhelmed her. Anxiety about working with Paul Richards.

She couldn’t erase from her heart what had happened at the architectural firm where she and her ex-boyfriend Kevin had been employed. Working together had destroyed their relationship and ruined a job she’d wanted more than anything. She wasn’t going to let that happen with the honeymoon house. She vowed to keep emotionally clear of Paul Richards, no matter how incredible a man he was.

Mr. Harrington closed the door to his private office and turned to Paul with a concerned look on his face. “Paul, I hired Danielle Ford because I owe her sister a huge favor. Danielle’s got talent, but I don’t want to see any mistakes due to inexperience.”

Paul felt uneasy. He remembered the Tilden house. He couldn’t afford to make even one infinitesimal error on Harrington’s honeymoon house, not if he wanted that partnership with him.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Harrington,” Paul assured him. “The construction will go smoothly.”

“I’ll be honest with you, Paul,” Mr. Harrington went on. “The only reason I feel comfortable with my decision is knowing you’re in charge of the construction. That’s why I’m asking you to monitor Danielle’s work on the house.”

“Watch over her work?” he asked. The idea of monitoring Danielle’s plans felt totally wrong. “It’s kind of an awkward situation for me, Mr. Harrington.”

“I know,” he replied. “But you’ve never worked with Danielle’s plans before, have you?”

Paul anxiously looked away. He barely knew Danielle, yet he felt an immediate allegiance to her. He didn’t want to risk her job with Mr. Harrington.

“I’ve never met her before today, Mr. Harrington,” he forced himself to say. He was telling the truth about that.

“That’s why I’m depending on you, Paul,” Mr. Harrington continued. “I want my house to be flawless.”

“I’ll make sure of it, Mr. Harrington.”

“I knew I could count on you, Paul.” Mr. Harrington sat at his shiny oak desk. “By the way, I’m still intensely interested in your partnership idea.”

Paul beamed with hope. “I’m glad to hear you say those words, Mr. Harrington.”

“However, I want to get this project going first,” Mr. Harrington went on. “I also want to discuss my new children’s library with you.” The telephone rang. “I definitely want you to build it, Paul. I particularly like your recommendation of Victor Horton as the architect for my new library, especially since the three of us might go into a partnership together.”

Paul’s spirits rose to the sun. “Victor’s a creative architect. I know you’d enjoy working with him on your library.”

“We’ll talk more about Victor when I get my requirements for the library together,” Harrington said as he picked up the phone.

Paul extended a warm, thankful hand. “I look forward to building your honeymoon house and your children’s library, Mr. Harrington.”

Though the partnership deal still wasn’t signed, Paul knew he was on his way.

Danielle hurried into her small architectural office on Main Street in Santa Monica. She threw down her briefcase and excitedly phoned her sister, Lisa, at the real estate office.

“Lee, I got it!” Danielle gushed when she heard her sister’s voice. “All because of you!”

“I knew it!” Lisa replied with joy. “Mr. Harrington loved your computer sketch, didn’t he?”

“Just like you said he would.” She was still spinning with joy. “To celebrate, when you get home from work tonight I’m cooking your favorite Italian dinner.”

“Oh, no, I’ve got to work late,” Lisa said, disappointed. “Then, before I leave the office, I have to phone Manny before it gets too late in New York. You’ll probably be in bed when I get home.”

“That’s okay, Lee, we’ll do it tomorrow night.” Danielle knew how much Lisa looked forward to talking to her boyfriend, Manny, who had temporarily moved to New York for his job.

“I’m so happy about your new project!” Lisa added enthusiastically.

The moment Danielle hung up, she spread out her plans on the drafting table. She’d drawn a contemporary but warm two-story house in Malibu, near the ocean, with picture windows in the front facing eucalyptus, orange and lemon trees, and two large windows in the back facing a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

She made a quick list on a pad. First, she had to call a structural engineer for the framing plans. She wanted the honeymoon house to have a strong foundation because of L.A.’s earthquakes.

She also had to draw up the electrical and plumbing plans. She couldn’t forget the bathroom pipes! She was so excited she could barely write.

She’d show Paul Richards she was a good architect.

Paul Richards. She fingered the plans. She knew Paul could have easily told Mr. Harrington about her part in the Tilden house catastrophe. Why hadn’t he? Was he as attracted to her as she was to him?

Her stomach fluttered just thinking about working closely with Paul. The sensual way he looked at her in Mr. Harrington’s office had made her momentarily forget about work.

She put down her plans and drank a cup of cold water to calm her insides. She couldn’t allow her sexual attraction to Paul Richards to take over her senses. Hadn’t she learned the hard way that getting involved with a man she worked with only ended in emotional disaster?

As she drank the cool water, she remembered when she’d met Kevin three years ago at the architectural firm where they’d worked together. Kevin had been selfconfident and fun, and when she’d fallen in love with him, she’d shared her secret dreams with him.

She’d told Kevin she wanted to design a modern, high-tech house. She was sure a project of that magnitude would move her career ahead in their firm.

Her chance came. A wealthy client appeared in the office, seeking an architect to design his ultra-contemporary home. She excitedly told Kevin she was going to talk to the owner of their company right away and request that she be chosen for the job.

Kevin advised her to wait a little while. She listened to his advice because he loved her. He supported her. And she trusted him like family.

A few days later, she spotted Kevin talking privately with the owner. She was thrilled. She was sure he was recommending her for the job.

Then, one afternoon while Kevin was at a construction site, Danielle couldn’t find her drafting pen. When she searched Kevin’s drafting table for one, she felt the breath knocked out of her.

Hidden underneath other plans was Kevin’s sample design of the wealthy client’s modern, high-tech house and a letter to the owner of their firm requesting the prestigious job for himself.

She was crushed by his betrayal and devastated when she found out that the owner planned to move his architectural company to Chicago and wanted to take one talented, aggressive architect along with him. Kevin made sure he was that architect. He gave up their love as if it never mattered, as if she never mattered.

Danielle crumpled the paper cup and hurled it into the trash can. She’d learned one thing from Kevin. She’d never again fall in love with a man she worked with.

The next day, after doing some final finish work on a new home, Paul sped his faded-green van toward home. He felt troubled about the idea of keeping an eye on Danielle’s work. An architect had the right to privacy, and a good builder had to trust her creative judgment.

Paul made up his mind. Even though Mr. Harrington had insisted on his being a watchdog, he knew he couldn’t do it. He’d make sure Mr. Harrington’s house was built to perfection, but he’d never insult Danielle by interfering in her work.

Danielle Ford. She was spunky, determined and very sexy. He remembered her standing in Mr. Harrington’s office with her skirt up in the air, her tantalizing legs gleaming at him and her pink bikini panties in full view. He felt his body react just thinking about her.

Just as he drove past the Santa Monica baseball field, a baseball shot into the street in front of his van. He pulled his vehicle to the curb, got out and threw the ball back to the Little League players in the field.

He watched the kids practice before their game started. A rush of warmth filled him. He loved being with kids. But he knew he could never have a family of his own. He didn’t even know what being in a close family felt like.

A sadness overwhelmed him at the sight of the Little League kids’ mothers beaming with pride at their sons. He’d never known his mother. She’d died when he was born. A few years later, his father had married his stepmother, who had had two children of her own, but he’d barely known his father when he passed away of cancer. Paul had been three years old.

Paul had been raised by his stepmother, who had only seemed to care about her own two children. The sole person Paul had felt close to was his best friend, Lucky. He’d run to Lucky’s house whenever his stepmother screamed at him that he was always in her way. Lucky was the one who saw him cry when his stepmother told him that she wished his father had never left him to her.

When Paul had turned seventeen, he ran away for good—where nobody, even Lucky, could find him.

“Let’s play ball!” the umpire called out.

The words brought Paul back to the present. He glanced at the parents cheering in the bleachers for their kids. Family life belonged to others, not him. Never him.

When Paul returned to his small, steamy cottage in Santa Monica, he pulled off his T-shirt.

He banged on his window air conditioner to get it going, but not a whir could be heard from the motor. Maybe with the honeymoon house job, he’d be able to buy a new one.

His stomach grumbled for dinner. He looked in his refrigerator. Empty as usual. He grabbed a clean T-shirt and headed out.

At the supermarket, Paul went straight to the frozen food aisle. He yanked open the glass door. Ice-cold air hit his bare arms. What precooked delicacy was he in the mood for?

None, he thought. Sometimes he envied the construction workers he hired who were married and went home every night to their wives and kids to share a hot dinner and loving feelings.

He couldn’t remember ever having a warm family experience.

Paul pulled out a frozen lasagna dinner from the shelf and hurled it into his shopping cart. He rounded the corner on his way toward the vegetable and fruit department for his ready-made salad, when he suddenly slowed down his cart.

Standing a distance in front of him was Danielle Ford. She was bending forward, reaching into a display of ripe red tomatoes. Her tight white shorts accentuated her moonshaped buttocks. He halted his cart, unable to take his gaze off her. Her long, bare legs winked out at him.

He squeezed the chrome of the cart handle, imagining caressing the silken flesh of her thighs and gliding his palms up to her firm buttocks.

An elderly customer accidentally banged into him with her cart, waking him up from his sexual fantasy.

At the tomato stand, Danielle lightly squeezed each tomato for the perfectly ripened ones. She was excited about cooking Lisa an Italian dinner. She had just pulled out a red winner from the middle of the stand, when suddenly several tomatoes started falling down the display.

“Oh, no!” she whispered as an avalanche of tomatoes began tumbling to her feet. She frantically pressed her body against the display to stop the onslaught.

Just as she grabbed several, a strong hand collided with hers to help stop the tomatoes. She looked up to see Paul Richards’s charcoal eyes on her. The warmth of his masculine hand made her skin heat up in the icy airconditioned produce department.