Читать онлайн книгу «Marry Me, Kate» автора Judy Christenberry

Marry Me, Kate
Judy Christenberry
LUCKY CHARM SISTERSKATE:Join her this monthMAGGIE:Coming in February 1999SUSAN:Don't miss her in March 1999THE TWELVE-MONTH MARRIAGETheir marriage was a business agreement, plain and simple. Will Hardison needed a wife to prevent women from chasing his millions. Kate O'Connor needed help so she could build her late father's dream. So they struck a deal–they'd marry for one year, and both of their problems would be solved.Of course, there would be no touching…or kissing…or making soul-searing love…or giving away hearts. But then came the wedding night…!The Lucky Charm Sisters: A boss, a brain and a beauty. Three sisters marry for convenience…but will they find love?


ADDENDUM TO CONTRACT #1099 BETWEEN WILLIAM HARDISON AND KATHRYN O’CONNOR (#ua7e4b1f1-3cde-5a7a-b5eb-f48351dbf4ca)Letter to Reader (#u2548e1f8-d5e6-57f0-8c9f-ace8ceec8740)Title Page (#uf3196756-f39d-5a3b-95b9-01d6ccf5e958)About the Author (#u35fdc329-7878-5ad8-ae46-f017fa2ff0eb)Chapter One (#u50466220-3bfb-568c-8d19-36782a0c30ee)Chapter Two (#u3d486a15-5ced-5092-b071-ec5295466828)Chapter Three (#u228d2501-228c-5aa5-963b-8c5d835221e8)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
ADDENDUM TO CONTRACT #1099 BETWEEN WILLIAM HARDISON AND KATHRYN O’CONNOR
1. Both parties will ignore the sparks that ignite between them whenever they are in a room together.
2. They will forget the soul-touching kisses they have already exchanged and never engage in such activities again.
3. If, after all this, either party falls in love with the other party to this contract...well, that is their problem, and this office shall not be held responsible in any way.
Signed:


William H. Hardison
Signed:


Kathryn O’Connor
Dear Reader,
Silhouette Romance is proud to usher in the year with two exciting new promotions! LOVING THE BOSS is a six-book series, launching this month and ending in June, about office romances leading to happily-ever-afters. In the premiere title, The Boss and the Beauty, by award-winning author Donna Clayton, a prim personal assistant wows her jaded, workaholic boss when she has a Cinderella makeover....
You’ve asked for more family-centered stories, so we created FAMILY MATTERS, an ongoing promotion with a special flash. The launch title, Family by the Bunch from popular Special Edition author Amy Frazier, pairs a rancher in want of a family with a spirited social worker ..and five adorable orphans.
Also available are more of the authors you love, and the miniseries you’ve come to cherish. Kia Cochrane’s emotional Romance debut, A Rugged Ranchin’ Dad, beautifully captures the essence of FABULOUS FATHERS. Star author Judy Chnstenberry unveils her sibling-connected miniseries LUCKY CHARM SISTERS with Marry Me, Kate, an unforgettable marriage-of-convenience tale. Granted: A Family for Baby is the latest of Carol Grace’s BEST-KEPT WISHES miniseries. And COWBOYS TO THE RESCUE, the heartwarming Western saga by rising star Martha Shields, continues with The Million-Dollar Cowboy.
Enjoy this month’s offerings, and look forward to more spectacular stones coming each month from Silhouette Romance!
Happy New Year!


Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor, Silhouette Romance
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Marry Me, Kate
Judy Christenberry


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
JUDY CHRISTENBERRY
has been writing romances for fifteen years because she loves happy endings as much as her readers. She’s a bestselling writer for Harlequin American Romance, but she has a long love of traditional romances and is delighted to tell a story that brings those elements to the reader. Judy recently quit teaching French and devotes her time to writing. She hopes readers have as much fun reading her stories as she does writing them. She spends her spare time reading, watching her favorite sports teams and keeping track of her two daughters. Judy’s a native Texan, living in Plano, a suburb of Dallas.


Chapter One
“I’d like to see Mr. Hardison,” Kate O’Connor announced calmly to the efficient-looking woman behind the large desk.
“Do you have an appointment?”
They’d certainly reached the sticky part quickly. “No, but I won’t take much of his time. I’m here to talk to him about the sponsor program.”
“Are you with the press?” the secretary asked with a frown, flipping the pages of her calendar.
Kate wanted to say yes, but her innate honesty wouldn’t let her. “No.”
“Then why do you want to speak to Mr. Hardison?”
“I’d prefer to give my explanation to him,” Kate returned, her spine stiffening with resentment at the woman’s attitude. Careful, she warned herself. She mustn’t let her temper do her in. She needed to subdue it just as she’d subdued her red hair this morning, pinning it into a sedate French roll.
“I can give you ten minutes next month.”
Next month wouldn’t do. She was too close to going under. “I need to see him now.”
“Sorry.” The word was accompanied by a superior smile that made control of her temper difficult. Without another word, Kate walked out of the deeply carpeted office. Once the door had closed behind her, she sank against the wall, her shaking knees and aching heart unable to continue.
It had been two months since her father’s death. Two difficult months. She’d discovered the diner her father had run for years had been losing money the past twelve months and, along with his medical bills, had almost exhausted her father’s savings. She’d come up with a plan to keep the diner, but she needed an infusion of capital. Her sister Maggie had offered her savings, even though she didn’t want to keep the diner, but Kate couldn’t take Maggie’s money.
A smile lit her face. Pop always said Maggie was a changeling because of her cautiousness. But she was financially solvent, the only one in the family. Their half sister Susan, only recently discovered by Kate and Maggie, was trying to raise two half siblings on her own. She certainly couldn’t invest in Kate’s idea.
Besides, Kate felt it was her job, as oldest in the family, to take care of her sisters. Not the other way around. And she was determined to do so. When she’d turned to the banks, however, they wouldn’t offer her much without better collateral.
She’d been desperate when an article in the newspaper had caught her attention. The CEO of Hardison Enterprises had begun a sponsoring program for small businesses.
Without waiting for second thoughts, she’d dressed in her only business suit, a bright blue, Parisiandesigned outfit that showed off her curves, and had come to see Mr. Hardison at once. It turned out she needn’t have called at all since she couldn’t see him with an appointment until next month.
The door behind her opened and she heard the snooty secretary say, “I’ll have it for you in fifteen minutes, Mr. Hardison.”
Then, as the door closed, Kate watched the back of the woman as she hurried down the hall away from her.
Leaving the CEO unguarded.
I know you always warned me about being impulsive, Pop, but I’ve got to go for it.
She quietly opened the door and slipped back into the outer office. Staring at the door to the forbidden sanctum across the room, she briefly wondered if she had the nerve to just walk in.
She grinned. Pop always said she had more nerve than sense. She’d never proved him wrong. It wouldn’t happen now. She pushed away from the wall, charged across the room and opened the inner office door.
Her first surprise when she caught sight of the man behind the desk was his age. If pressed, she’d guess him to be thirty, give or take a couple of years. Had she gotten the wrong office? This man appeared too young to be the head of Hardison Enterprises. And somehow she hadn’t pictured Mr. Hardison as being so...sexy.
Then he stood. His tall, lean frame only increased the intimidation she felt as she looked at him. On a lesser man, she would’ve called his expression a glare. On him, the look threatened bodily harm to anyone who bothered him.
“Mr. Hardison?”
“Who are you?” he snapped.
Bingo. She had the right office.
“My name is Kathryn O’Connor. I need to talk to you about the sponsor program.”
“Are you a reporter?” His voice was harsh.
What was it with these people? Were their lives so exciting that they were constantly pursued by the press?
“No. But I—”
“Then get out.” He sat back down and turned his attention to a pile of papers on his desk.
Kate stood there, wondering what her next move should be. She wasn’t about to give up but—
“I told you to leave.” He didn’t even look up.
“Not before I talk to you. I want to be considered for the sponsor program.”
He covered his handsome face with one hand before looking at her. “That’s what you want? Forget it.”
“Wait a minute. I’d be a good risk,” she protested, moving closer to his desk.
“Then go to a bank.” He turned his attention back to his paperwork.
“They won’t loan me enough money.”
“Lady, there are no free rides, even for someone who looks like you.” His gaze roved over her and she felt her cheeks heat up.
“I’m not asking for a free ride,” she returned, her voice reflecting her anger at his accusation.
“That’s what they all say.”
She moved over next to the desk, as irritated by the way he ignored her as she was by his words.
“At least listen to me,” she pleaded.
“Out,” he replied calmly, making notes on a letter.
Something snapped in Kate, to be treated this way after the struggle she’d had. She smashed her hand down on top of the letter. “You have to listen to me.”
Slowly William Hardison lifted his gaze from the letter to stare at hazel eyes, their luminous quality enhanced by her anger.
It wasn’t her beauty that caught his attention. He was constantly in the company of beautiful women.
No, it was her firm little chin, the determined glint in her eyes. He sighed. He’d already faced a determined woman this morning.
His mother.
She’d been on his case again, wanting him to promise to attend the reception this evening for society’s finest. And to escort her newest candidate for the role of Mrs. William Hardison. His mother never stopped trying to manipulate, cajole or force him into doing what she wanted. Just as she had his father.
James Hardison had married later than most men. Almost forty, he’d fallen head over heels for Miriam Esters. After finally agreeing to marry the wealthy businessman, she’d led him around by the nose for the rest of his life.
It wouldn’t have bothered Will so much if she’d made his dad happy. But she’d never let him believe she loved him, and she’d never been satisfied with the gifts he’d showered on her.
As much as he’d loved his father, Will had despised James’s weakness for his mother.
After a few unfortunate forays into the romance arena himself, Will had come to the conclusion that most women were like his mother. Best left alone.
Now, as the attractive young lady smashed her hand down on the letter he was reading, he realized that, like his mother, she wasn’t going to go away without a fight.
He noticed her nails: clean, neatly trimmed, instead of the long red claws his mother and all her friends sported. Probably meant she wouldn’t try to scratch his eyes out. At least he hoped not.
“Miss...whatever your name is, I believe I asked you to leave.” He spoke in measured tones, hoping to defuse the situation.
“I suppose people always do exactly what you ask?” she demanded.
“Well,” he said consideringly, a faint smile on his lips, “it is my office.”
“All I’m asking is for you to hear me out! I’m a perfect candidate for your sponsorship.” In her agitation, her hair was escaping from its pins, curly strands framing her face.
“How would you know the perfect candidate?”
“I read about Paul Jones in the paper.”
“And you want to be the next Paul Jones?” he asked, his voice taking on a sharp edge as he looked at her more closely. Did she realize Paul Jones had been a con artist? Was she one, also?
“Yes!”
“No way in hell, lady. Now, get out of my office or I’ll call security.” He wasn’t about to get himself in another mess like the one with Paul Jones. The man had lied and cheated and threatened blackmail. So much for Will’s philanthropical efforts.
“Why won’t you listen to me?” she cried out. “Is it because I’m a woman? Are you one of those men who believe women are incapable of counting above ten?”
He gave her his most cynical smile. “The women I know are quite capable of counting millions, especially if it’s someone else’s millions.”
Her chin thrust forward and her eyes narrowed. “I’m only asking to be heard. I’m not trying to steal from you.”
“Look, our sponsorship program has been suspended pending evaluation, so you’re wasting your time.”
“No!” she snapped, as if it were her decision. “No, no, no!”
He grinned. How his mother would hate this woman, so demanding, argumentative, determined. She was exactly the opposite of those sweet-smelling, soft creatures whose hearts were made of iron.
In fact, if he chose a wife like this lady, his mother would probably wash her hands of him in despair.
As his hand reached for the phone to call security, he halted in midair. A ridiculous thought—but intriguing. He shot a look at her ring finger. Bare.
“Are you married?” he asked.
For the first time since she’d entered his office, she drew back. Only inches, but a definite retreat.
“Why?”
“I want to know.”
She hesitated but finally answered, “No.”
“I will listen to your pitch tonight. Write down your address,” he ordered, shoving a piece of paper and a pen across his desk, “and I’ll pick you up at eight. It’s formal.”
“What’s formal?” she asked, her voice wary. She hadn’t picked up the pen yet, and he wondered just how strong her determination was. She might save him from his bizarre idea if she weakened.
“I have to attend a reception this evening. It’s the only time I can give you. Take it or leave it.”
She stared at him and he calmly waited for her decision. He’d always been a gambler. But he’d never taken such a personal risk before.
She reached out for the pen and paper and wrote down an address. He took it from her and nodded as he folded it and put it into his top pocket. “Eight o’clock.” Without another word he returned to his perusal of the letter. Even as she walked to his office door, he’d lost himself in the new project he was working on.
Will put his Jaguar in Park and pulled the piece of paper from his tux jacket pocket: 1205 Wornall Avenue. He slowly lifted his gaze to the monstrosity in front of him. The Lucky Charm Diner—an old trolley car, painted a pea green, though half the paint had peeled off, set at the edge of the small parking lot. The sign on top of it was covered with graffiti, making its name almost unreadable.
She couldn’t live here. The woman he’d seen this morning, Kathryn O’Connor, in that elegant blue suit, couldn’t live in a diner. If she did, his plan would not only upset his mother, but it might also give her a heart attack.
Maybe Miss O’Connor just wanted to meet him here. She hadn’t seemed the cautious type, though these days any woman should be. But couldn’t she find a classier place to meet?
He shut off the engine and got out of the car. As he stood there, adjusting his gold cuff links, a rattletrap old pickup pulled into one of the many empty spaces. Without even a glance in his direction, two grizzled men in coveralls got out and entered the diner.
With a shrug, Will followed them.
He surveyed the small eatery, noting the faded tabletops, their green color matching the outside paint, the patched and uneven floor, the close quarters. Clearly a down-and-out café. Its name had certainly not been lucky for the owner.
Clearing his throat, he waited for the only employee in sight, a frizzy-haired, middle-aged woman, to acknowledge him.
“Just come on in and park yourself, honey. We’re not formal here.” Even as she greeted him, she was pouring coffee for the two men who had preceded him.
“I’m looking for Miss Kathryn O’Connor,” he explained crisply, trying to hold back his distaste.
The woman paused and giggled, her gaze sweeping over him. “Oh! You must be the gentleman she said would be coming. Kate!” she called in gargantuan tones. “He’s here.”
Will barely stopped himself from shaking his head in amazement. He couldn’t have chosen a better place to shock his mother if he’d tried. The picture of her entering this establishment, in her fur and pearls, almost made him burst out laughing.
The redhead appeared from a door to the side of the counter. The men drinking their coffee put down their cups and clapped and whistled, jerking Will from his thoughts.
She was wearing a little black dress, cut low in front, displaying her charms, and slit to the thigh on one side. Sheer black nylons led his eyes to the high heels that only emphasized all those curves.
His mouth suddenly dry, he cleared his throat again and muttered, “Good evening, Miss O’Connor.”
Seemingly unaffected by his appearance, she replied, “Hello, Mr. Hardison. Are you ready?”
“Hey, Kate, where you going, all duded up?” a member of their audience called out.
Will frowned in his direction but waited for the woman to answer.
“This is a business meeting, Larry.”
“Whooeee! I think I’m going into business!” the man whooped as all the others laughed.
Will’s soon-to-be date laughed along with the men, but he didn’t. “Miss O’Connor, this is a formal affair,” he said.
“This is as dressy as I come, Mr. Hardison. I haven’t frequented formal occasions lately.”
His gaze briefly roamed the diner before he said, “I can see.” He hadn’t intended his remark as a criticism but he saw the flash of anger in her green eyes.
“If I’ll be too much of an embarrassment to you, we can have our meeting here and then you can proceed without me.”
“Not at all, Miss O’Connor. After you.” He was looking a gift horse in the mouth. Why worry about her embarrassment if she didn’t? He’d never deliberately place any woman in such an awkward situation, but he’d warned her. It wasn’t his fault she wasn’t properly dressed.
After they were settled in the Jaguar and on their way, he said, “The man in there called you Kate.”
“Yes.”
“Ah. Do you mind if I call you Kate?”
She’d been staring straight ahead until now. Turning, she let one brow slip up in a fascinating manner. “Are we going to be informal, then?”
There was a challenge in the husky tones that made his gut clench. He didn’t want to react to her, but her sexy apparel combined with her attractions would make any man sit up and take notice.
“I thought it might be a good idea—since we’re going to be in each other’s company all night.”
“All night?”
Damn, she was making him sound like an adolescent boy, stumbling through his first date. “Too literal, Miss O’Connor. I of course meant all evening. Though when the evening ends will be your choice. I’m a gentleman.”
“Don’t play word games with me, Mr. Hardison,” she returned, her voice smooth and enveloping. “Given my choice, we would’ve had our meeting in your office.”
He breathed deeply and inhaled her perfume. His gaze swept up her leg, following the slit that teased him with a glimpse of a firm thigh.
“Tell me about the project you think would be perfect for Hardison Industries’s entrepreneurial program.” If he didn’t change the subject and stop thinking about how the evening might end, he was going to embarrass himself.
“Can’t you guess?”
Such a strange answer brought his gaze back to her. “I beg your pardon?”
“The light’s turned green,” she murmured just as the car behind him sounded its horn.
Embarrassed, he stomped on the accelerator and the tires squealed as he roared through the intersection. Feeling like a teenager, he tried to bring himself under control.
“What did you mean?” he finally asked.
“You’ve already seen my project.”
He frowned. He really wasn’t interested in discussing business right now. His plans were more important. All he’d hoped to do was distract his mind from the urges that were overtaking him every time he looked at her. But now she’d caught his attention.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. All I’ve seen is you.”
“Not unless you walked inside the diner with your eyes closed.”
“Walked inside—” He broke off and stared at her again in horror. “You can’t mean—”
“Watch out!” she shrieked and grabbed the steering wheel to help him avoid a parked car.
He turned back to the road, keeping his gaze firmly fixed in front of him, as he fought through the shock. “You’re saying The—The Lucky Charm is your project? You’ve got to be kidding!”
Chapter Two
Kate wasn’t pleased with the shock in his voice. The man was a snob, just like her Aunt Lorraine, who hated the diner. Anger warred with despair. She needed his money. Desperately. Otherwise, she would never have agreed to have a business discussion in a social setting.
“I’m quite serious, Mr. Hardison. I have figures to show you that support my intentions.”
He pulled into a parking lot that encircled the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art and stopped by the front door where a valet waited to park his car. It wasn’t until he reached her side after circling the vehicle that he responded.
“Either I’m thinking of a different kind of figure or they don’t amount to much, Kate. Because I don’t see where you could’ve hidden any more of your figure wearing that dress.”
The steamy stare that swept her from her toes to her shoulders, or perhaps a little below her shoulders, told Kate there wasn’t much hope for a business discussion. This man had his mind on other things.
Stiffening her shoulders, she raised her chin and waited until his gaze finally left her breasts. “I’m asking for a loan, Mr. Hardison, not selling myself. A business discussion is what I want, not...not a seduction.”
Though his cheeks reddened, he looked down his nose at her as if she were a common bug that happened to intrude in his path. “Of course. That’s my intention also.”
He took her arm, a touch that Kate felt all over, and led her toward the door, immediately opened by an attendant. Standing just inside was a receiving line of gray-haired women dressed in elegant, floor-length gowns, adorned in diamonds and pearls. Their escorts wore tuxedos, like Hardison’s.
Kate hid an inner groan beneath a smile. She’d occasionally attended such social events with her aunt Lorraine. And hated every minute of them.
The first lady stared at her in horror, as if unable to believe her eyes, and Kate quickly glanced down her person, afraid something was amiss. Her short black dress was certainly less formal than their gowns, but she was decently covered.
When she raised her gaze, she saw her escort bend over and kiss the woman’s cheek.
“Evening, Mother. I’d like you to meet Kate O’Connor. She works at The Lucky Charm Diner on Wornall Avenue.”
The woman’s face paled, and she wavered on her high heels. Kate feared they’d be picking her up off the floor any minute. And wondered if William Hardison had intended that result with his invitation.
After all, it hadn’t been necessary to mention the diner at all, much less make it sound as if she was working for minimum wage. Though minimum wage might be an increase in her income right now.
“I—I—how do you do?” the woman finally warbled, sounding as if she had a tickle in her throat.
“Fine, thank you, Mrs. Hardison.” Kate pretended a lack of interest in the woman’s distress, hoping she would understand that her accompanying the woman’s son was an impersonal thing. “Your gown is lovely.”
The woman’s gaze trailed down Kate’s figure, as if she intended to return the compliment, then thought better of it. “Thank you,” she muttered and dropped Kate’s hand.
The man next to Mrs. Hardison instantly grabbed Kate’s fingers and lifted them to his lips. Kate wasn’t fond of hand kissing, but having lived in France for four years, she wasn’t stunned by his action. His devouring stare bothered her more.
“Absolutely stunning, Miss O’Connor. I hope you’ll save me a dance. I’m Count Ryzinski.”
She supposed his affected speech was meant to imply he was European, but Kate didn’t believe it for a minute. She slipped her hand from his with no comment.
William Hardison’s arm slid around her waist and he introduced her to the next dowager in line. Distracted by his touch much more than the count’s kiss, Kate couldn’t remember the woman’s name.
Not that it mattered.
She wouldn’t see any of them after tonight, whether she got her loan or not. Unless, of course, they became future customers.
Will kept his hand on Kate’s waist, enjoying the feel of her. She might not be dressed as elegantly as the elite of Kansas City, but she shouted sex appeal.
And he was a healthy man.
The count, one of his mother’s hangers-on, appeared to be healthy, too. Too much so. It irritated Will that the man had kissed Kate’s hand, though it hadn’t seemed to bother her.
As they continued down the receiving line, he discovered every man introduced to Kate was affected by her curvaceous figure.
He wanted to punch them all out.
As soon as they’d finished the introductions, he took her arm and pulled her in the direction of the serving tables. “Let’s get a drink.”
A waiter stepped in front of them with a tray. “Champagne, sir?”
Will grabbed two glasses and handed one to Kate.
She calmly set it back down on the tray. With a smile to the waiter, she said, “I’d prefer mineral water. Is it available?”
The waiter acted as if he’d been given a commission of greatness. “I’ll bring it to you personally, miss,” he assured her, a hungry grin on his lips.
She thanked him and he hurried away, an almost full tray in his grasp, ignoring the people who were waiting to be served.
“You’re dangerous,” Will murmured.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Try not to ask for any more favors. I’m afraid half the men in here will fall on their faces rushing to serve you.” He noted the flash of anger in her eyes with satisfaction. The more off balance she felt, the more outrageous she’d behave.
And the more upset his mother would become.
“Will! Where have you been lately, buddy?” a male voice called out.
Will turned to see John Larabee, Jr., an old school chum, approaching. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Jack had always chased the most beautiful women, and Kate was easily in that category.
“Hello, lovely lady,” Jack added as he reached Will and Kate. He took Kate’s hand in his and held it.
“Good evening,” Kate said coolly and tugged on her hand.
“Let her go, Jack.”
Both his companions stared at him, Kate with indignation in her gaze, and Jack with a considering look. However, Jack didn’t bother to let go of Kate’s hand.
Kate tugged on her hand again. When the man didn’t immediately release it, she took Will’s champagne out of his hand and calmly poured what was left down the front of Jack’s tuxedo.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. How careless of me,” she said, a sweet smile of concern on her lush lips.
Jack stared at his tuxedo in horror, but he also released Kate’s hand. “You—you—that—” he sputtered, wiping his shirtfront and glaring at her at the same time.
Several people around them, apparently having watched the brief scenario, gave gasps of disapproval and moved to console Jack, a favorite with the elite of Kansas City.
“That was very rude, young lady,” a blue-haired dowager snapped as her husband offered a handkerchief to Jack.
“Oh, I quite agree,” Kate said calmly, “but you know how some men are. They just can’t behave themselves.” She smiled and then excused herself and moved toward the service table.
Will closed his gaping mouth, swallowed a chuckle and followed in Kate’s wake. This evening was going to be more fun than he’d ever had before at one of his mother’s events.
“A bit extreme, but effective,” he whispered in Kate’s ear as she looked over the hors d’oeuvres.
“Thank you,” she replied calmly, never lifting her gaze from the table.
Just as he decided she’d earned her interview, his mother arrived, outrage on her face.
“William! Is it true? Did this—this woman pour champagne on Jack?”
Kate, holding a plate with various hors d’oeuvres on it, turned to look at his mother. “Is Jack a friend of yours, Mrs. Hardison? I hope he’s not upset by my little accident. If he’s concerned about the champagne staining—”
“Young woman! I heard it was no accident!” She turned so that Kate was facing her back and looked at Will. “I cannot believe you would bring such a social misfit to our gala!”
Will had hoped the young woman would disturb his mother, but he hadn’t expected such a scene. Even so, it wasn’t fair for Kate to be treated so harshly. Without even thinking, he leapfrogged several unexplained steps in his plan and circled Kate with his arm.
“Why wouldn’t I bring her, Mother? Kate and I are to be married.”
Several glasses crashed even as Miriam Hardison slumped to the floor in a dead faint.
The silence in the car was deafening as William Hardison drove Kate home. After his mother fainted, pandemonium had reigned. Kate had taken the opportunity to sample some of the hors d’oeuvres, knowing her departure was imminent.
Even as Mrs. Hardison regained consciousness, several dowagers remonstrated with the root of all the problems, William. Kate listened to their impassioned words as she watched her escort’s expression. As his jaw squared, she stepped forward.
“William, dear, I’m ready to leave. Shall I call a taxi?” As if she could afford such an extravagance. “I’ll understand if you want to stay with your mother.”
At least he wasn’t dumb, she decided with relief. His glare told her he got her message loud and clear. She was leaving, with or without him.
“No, I’ll take you home.” He turned to the slumped-over woman, her head resting on the count’s shoulder, bravely sipping champagne. “Mother, I’m taking Kate home now. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Without waiting for a response, he’d taken Kate’s arm and strode from the museum.
She’d wondered if he’d explain, though she couldn’t think of any explanation that would justify his behavior. She hated being used, especially to upset someone. She might not enjoy the company of society ladies, but she didn’t wish them any harm.
When he drove in silence, offering nothing to account for his behavior, she silently said goodbye to her dream. After all, there hadn’t been much hope anyway. They wouldn’t sell the diner, but she’d have to take another job and save until she could carry out her goal.
Without the rude man beside her.
He pulled up to the diner and parked the car, then opened his door.
Kate didn’t bother telling him it wasn’t necessary to escort her to the door. He was the kind of man who wouldn’t listen to reason. She’d already figured that out.
Of course, she was curious about what had made him agree to an interview in the first place. But it didn’t matter. That possibility had gone the way of so many other plans.
“Good night, Mr. Hardison,” she muttered as she reached for the front door of the diner.
He opened the door and then entered behind her. She was suddenly grateful for the few customers lining the counter and the curious Madge.
“We haven’t had our talk,” Hardison said quietly.
She spun around to stare at him. “You never intended one, did you? After tonight’s events, I assume your only interest in me was comic relief.”
“I never expected...the situation deteriorated faster than I...I want to apologize for my mother’s rudeness.”
Kate stifled the gratitude she felt for his effort. “Very gracious, since you caused the problem.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m not an idiot, Mr. Hardison. And I don’t appreciate being used.”
“I didn’t—”
“Have a good time, hon?” Madge called, reminding Kate that every person in the diner was staring at them.
With a brief smile, Kate turned. “A lovely time, Madge. Is Paula working in the morning?”
“Yep, as usual.”
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.” Without ever turning around to speak to her escort, Kate headed for the double doors that swung into the kitchen.
She’d only managed one step when a strong hand grabbed her arm.
“We haven’t had our discussion.”
“As I pointed out earlier,” she said coldly, turning to glare at him, “I’m not an idiot. Whatever this evening was about, it wasn’t business.”
Kate O’Connor was right about one thing. She wasn’t an idiot, Will decided as he admired her snapping hazel eyes and flushed cheeks. And she was a beauty.
And she’d more than proved his theory.
“I promise you I intend to discuss your, uh, business plans. I’ll give you my full attention for one hour and you can show me those figures you said you had prepared.” Not that he expected anything that would make a lick of business sense. Not if it had to do with the ramshackle diner.
She didn’t grab the opportunity he offered. Instead she planted her hands on those slender hips that had drawn his gaze more than once and stared at him.
“Why?”
Of course she would ask. “Because I keep my word. You fulfilled your end of the bargain. Now it’s my turn.”
He found it fascinating to watch the changes in her expressive eyes as she considered his statement. Then she looked over her shoulder at their audience.
“Go on. Give him a chance,” one customer, an older, unshaven man urged with a grin.
“Billy—” she began, then stopped. She turned back to stare at Will, her eyes narrowing.
He knew the instant she made up her mind and breathed a sigh of relief. Somehow, the thought of ending their acquaintance tonight bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
“All right, Mr. Hardison. I’ll take your one hour. Come on.” She spun on her heel and headed toward a back booth in the diner.
Will frowned. He didn’t want to conduct business in the diner. With an audience. Hurrying after her, he said, “Don’t you think we could find a better place for our discussion?”
Like her bedroom.
He immediately shut down that errant thought. Business. He needed to think about business. But it was hard when he was following her trim figure encased in tight black, her red hair sparking as it moved with her.
“No.”
Brief and to the point. He’d already learned she was direct, so he shouldn’t have been surprised. “Okay,” he agreed with a resigned sigh and slid into the plastic and Formica booth opposite her.
From the small black purse she’d carried with her all evening, she withdrew several sheets of paper folded to fit inside.
Kate couldn’t believe she’d been given a second chance. Drawing a deep breath, she began to outline her plan to rescue her father’s diner.
“A catering firm?” the man opposite her asked in surprise. “I hate to mention such mundane things, but catering is a tough business, with a low profit margin. And even more important, it requires good cooking skills.”
Did he think she was an idiot? “Of course it does. But since I trained in Paris, I think my cooking will be adequate.”
“Paris, France?”
The surprise on his face was offensive. “No, Paris, Texas! Really, Mr. Hardison, must you insult my intelligence? Of course, Paris, France. I worked there as sous-chef of Maxim’s for the past three years.”
“Maxim’s?” he repeated. “But I ate there last November.”
“And you haven’t died from ptomaine poisoning yet? Amazing.” She had to remind herself not to be sarcastic. Pop always warned her about her sharp tongue, but the man was driving her crazy.
“I didn’t mean—the food was good. But you don’t look like you—I mean, your appearance—I’m surprised.” He finished with red cheeks, but his gaze had roved her face and body and it didn’t take much interpretation to understand his meaning.
“So you think only ugly women learn to cook?”
“No, of course not, but—let’s see those figures.”
Though his resorting to business to get him out of his difficulties was amusing, she didn’t bother to smile. Too much was at stake. But it didn’t keep her from appreciating that she had him at a disadvantage.
“All right, here’s what I’m hoping to do.”
She forgot the earlier events of the evening, her disgust with her companion, the despair that had filled her as they’d driven back to the diner. Inside, the flickering hope that had driven her to William Hardison in the first place flamed high as she described her plan to restore the diner to its former glory.
Or to more than its former glory since she wasn’t sure it had ever been a smart establishment. Her plans included a large expansion of the kitchen to enable her to mass produce hors d’oeuvres and meals for the catering. And, since the man had agreed to listen, she threw in the apartment she planned to add on for herself.
“You want to live here?” His glance around the diner wasn’t admiring.
“I already live here. I’d like to have nicer accommodations.”
His gaze whipped back to hers. “Where?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Where do you live?”
“There’s a room behind the kitchen.”
“I want to see it.”
Her eyebrows raised. She had no intention of showing him her bedroom. She wasn’t ashamed of it, exactly, but it wasn’t a showplace, either. Just a room with a small bed, some space for her to store her clothes and a lot of boxes holding some of her belongings and those of her father. It was none of his business.
“No, that’s not necessary.”
“I think it is.”
“But, you see, Mr. Hardison,” she said with a glacial smile, “I don’t much care what you think about my living quarters. I only care about your business acumen, in regard to my plans.”
“I think you have about as much chance of being successful as the Royals do of making the playoffs.”
Her confidence took a nosedive. The Royals, the local pro baseball team, were halfway through their season with a .348 percent win record.
She stiffened her back and raised her chin. “I see. Well, thank you for listening.” She started to slide out of the booth, hoping she could escape before her eyes allowed the tears filling them to overrun down her cheeks.
“But I will give you the money,” he said as he took hold of her arm.
She froze. Surely she had not heard correctly. He’d just said she had almost no chance to make her plan work. Then in the next breath he’d offered her the money?
Collecting herself, she asked sedately, as if her heart were not thumping like a drum, “On what terms?”
The smile on his lips should’ve warned her. But she was thinking percent, payments, length of loan, escrow. He wasn’t.
“My terms are that you marry me.”
Chapter Three
She gasped, drawing in a deep breath as she pulled herself together. Finally, when she had control once more, she said coldly, “I believe I mentioned earlier that I’m not for sale, Mr. Hardison.”
With a frown, he said, “You misunderstand me, Miss O’Connor. I don’t mean a real marriage. And I do not have any...designs on your body. The marriage would be one of convenience—for both of us—and would only last one year. There would be a prenuptial agreement spelling out the terms with a generous reward to you should I break any of them.”
Will watched her as she tried to understand his words. Admittedly his proposition was unusual. And if she couldn’t read his mind, perhaps even acceptable. He’d almost choked as he’d promised he had no interest in touching her, loving her. Physically. Of course, he had no interest in any emotional commitment.
He’d learned about that mistake from watching his father’s life.
But physically, the lady was a turn-on that would be hard to resist. But he would. Drawing a deep breath himself, he waited for her reaction.
“I don’t understand.”
“You met my mother this evening.”
“Yes. And I don’t appreciate what you did.”
“What did I do? I introduced you. The only thing I did wrong was announce our engagement before I spoke to you, but I said those words to protect you. My mother can be quite vicious to people she doesn’t consider...suitable.”
“To protect me,” she said, her gaze narrowing as she studied him.
Feeling like a first-grader who had lied to his teacher, he tried to keep his features smooth and unconcerned. “Yes.”
“And your reason for the proposal? Another attempt to protect me?”
Her sarcasm shattered his pretense and his cheeks flushed. “Not exactly.”
“Then explain.”
He’d figured she would demand details. Carefully selecting the version he wanted to reveal, he said, “My mother is...an ambitious woman. She’s been trying to force me into an advantageous marriage for several years.”
“And you’re not grown-up enough to say no?”
Her scornful look angered him. “Yes, I can say no. And have, repeatedly. That doesn’t stop her from disrupting my life with her efforts.”
She frowned but said nothing.
“I want some peace. I’m starting a new project that is going to take a lot of my concentration and greatly expand my holdings, and I want her to leave me alone.”
“And you can’t find anyone willing to marry you without making them a financial offer?” Kate quizzed him. “What’s wrong with you?”
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” he snapped back, burned by her condemnation. “Just because I don’t want—I’m not interested in marriage.”
Suddenly her big hazel eyes grew even larger and she leaned forward, whispering, “You’re gay?”
Exasperation made him slump against the plastic seat as he shook his head. “No, I’m not. Damn it, woman, why can’t you just accept what I’m telling you?”
“Because it doesn’t make sense. Why would any man tie himself legally to a woman if he doesn’t want marriage?”
“To keep from being persecuted by his mother.”
“And to embarrass her, pay her back, perhaps?”
Damn, damn, damn. No, she wasn’t stupid. “You’re not exactly the kind of woman my mother wants me to marry.” He cleared his throat. “If I married a society type, my mother would expect me to become even more involved in the society life-style. I want less.”
“So you thought you’d choose a weed to grow among the lilies, knowing everyone will hate her and avoid you.”
He didn’t like what she was saying, but he couldn’t deny at least some of it. “If the men you met tonight liked you any more, this diner would be overflowing.” She raised one eyebrow but said nothing. “Besides, what do you care if they don’t like you? You’d get your money to make your dream come true.”
“We still haven’t discussed payback terms.”
He smiled, knowing she wouldn’t have asked if she wasn’t considering his plan just a little. “That’s the beauty of the plan for you, Kate. If you meet the terms of the agreement, you don’t owe me anything.”
Her mouth dropped in surprise. “You mean—you mean the money is a gift?”
“Nope. You’re providing a service, and I’m paying. One year of your life.”
“But I can work on the diner, get started?”
“I want you to work on the diner, to be too busy for any socializing,” he assured her, feeling victory within his grasp.
“And all I have to do is go through a legal ceremony?”
“And pretend that we have a normal marriage.”
Kate felt her elation subside. “What does that entail?”
“Not much A few public displays of affection, moving into my house. Things like that.”
“But not your bedroom?” she demanded, wanting to be clear about his demands.
“Not my bedroom,” he assured her.
She stared at him. His voice was firm, his gaze clear, but there was a small flicker there that made her hesitate. That and the looks he’d given her this evening. Could she trust him?
Excitement filled her as she thought about finishing the year with her plans intact, debt-free. The possibility of succeeding was greatly enhanced if she had no loans. Maggie hadn’t believed she could pull it off.
“All right,” she said abruptly, looking him in the eye. “Have your lawyer draw up the papers. If everything is as you say, I’ll agree.”
What have I done?
That panicky question was lying in wait when Kate opened her eyes the next morning. She’d tossed and turned most of the night and felt more exhausted this morning than she had when she fell into bed.
Of course, five-thirty came early every morning, but she had no choice. Usually she hit the sack early, knowing the demands of the diner. Someday, she’d be able to hire someone else to share the burden of the cooking. Right now, she handled the eighteenhour shift by cooking extra amounts and freezing them for when she couldn’t be there, leaving her two waitresses to warm up the specials.
Thinking about the future brought her right back to the weird evening she’d suffered through. And the possibilities it offered. She had to call Maggie.
Rolling over, she reached for the phone and dialed her sister’s number. “Maggie? Are you awake?”
Her sister growled into the phone. “The sun isn’t up.”
“I know. But I had to tell you. I’ve found someone to give me the money for the diner!”
Ever practical, Maggie got right to the point. “What do you have to do in return?”
Kate tried several ways of answering, but nothing came out. It wasn’t easy to explain.
Maggie’s voice tightened. “Kate? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she hurriedly said. Maggie was younger by two years, but she’d always been the responsible one, the one to come along behind Kate and tidy up her messes.
“Then why haven’t you answered my question?”
“Because it’s hard to explain. It’s—it’s a personal services contract.” That sounded like a polite way to categorize their agreement.
“Kate! You’re not—”
“No!” Kate returned at once, understanding her sister’s misapprehension from her tone of voice. Then she rethought her answer. “I’m going to—to marry the man for one year. A platonic marriage. Strictly business.”
“Has he seen you?”
“Yes, of course he has.”
“Then don’t do it.” With an exasperated sigh, Maggie added, “No man could marry you and keep it platonic...unless he’s gay, of course. Is he?”
Kate let her thoughts travel over the sexy image of William Hardison in a tux. With a sigh, she admitted, “No, he’s not.”
“I don’t like this, Kate.”
“I know, Maggie, but I have to do it. For Pop. I know you don’t like the idea—”
“I just don’t think—never mind. I know it’s important for you to keep the diner. But I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I won’t. It’s all going to be spelled out in an agreement. And I’ll be able to make a good living. Maybe I can even help Susan some.”
“If she’ll let you. I’ve tried, but she’s too proud. She won’t let me do much.”
“But that’s the beauty of my plan, Maggie. She’ll be part-owner. Both of you will. If I make any profits, you two will get your share.”
Maggie, ever supportive, didn’t voice her doubts, though Kate knew she had them. “Good. Have Tori look at the contract before you sign it.”
Kate smiled. She’d known Maggie would be practical. “You’re right I’ll call her.”
After saying goodbye to her sister, she added to her list of things to do a call to Victoria Herring, a longtime friend who was an attorney. And Susan. She deserved to hear the good news, too. Maggie and Kate loved their new sister, but they found her as stubborn as either of them. She refused any offers of money to help her raise her siblings.
And without a debt overhead, Kate could offer real profit. She turned to the most entertaining of her plans, new menus. Catering offerings. What she’d tasted at the party at the museum last night wouldn’t be hard to beat. She’d need an entrée, of course, to society, someone to lend her support.
She almost slipped in the shower as she realized the added benefit to marrying William Hardison. Of course! He would be her entrée. She’d been concentrating on the financial aspects of their agreement, but there was more to be gained from their liaison.
Frowning, she remembered his hope that she would keep him from the necessity of social engagements. Fine. That’s what she would do. She would be working, anyway, if her ideas worked out. No one would expect her husband to accompany her on catering jobs.
Having nicely set him aside from her plans, Kate dressed and headed for the diner’s kitchen, ready to start her day, hope riding high.
When Will reached his office the next morning, his secretary handed him a stack of messages from his mother. He’d turned off the ringer on his phone when he’d gotten home last night. He knew his mother would call and he didn’t want to talk with her until he could present her with a fait accompli.
“She’s already called three times, Mr. Hardison. I assured her you would be in shortly.”
“And I am. But I don’t want to talk to her just yet. If she calls again, tell her I’ll be in touch by this evening, but whatever you do, don’t put her through. And get Charles Wilson on the phone for me.”
He’d barely sat down at his desk when his secretary buzzed him to pick up the phone.
After his greeting, his attorney asked, “Will? What’s up, guy? I hear you caused a ruckus at last night’s party.”
“Maybe. Listen, I need some fast work. Can you clear your morning and get right over here?”
“Problem?”
Charles was not only a friend, but also an efficient, knowledgeable lawyer. He didn’t waste time with protests.
“Not really. More of an agreement that will free me from problems, but it’s...personal.”
Knowing his words would intrigue the other man, Will smiled as Charles gave him his assurance he’d be right over and hung up the phone.
Then he pulled the legal-size pad from his briefcase. Last night, when he’d been unable to go to sleep right away, he’d made a list of his requirements for the agreement. Now he wanted to review them. It wouldn’t do to be careless. If he left a loophole, Miss Kate O’Connor could take him to the cleaners for a healthy reward.
She wouldn’t do that. He dismissed that unbidden thought with a cynicism borne of living with a greedy woman—his mother. She had dared many things he would have thought beyond a woman who loved her husband, as she’d always professed to do.
Better to concentrate on the legalities. If he didn’t leave any options for Miss O’Connor, then he wouldn’t have to rely on a generous heart that he wasn’t sure existed.
Charles stared at him.
“You want to do what?”
“Weren’t you listening? I just explained it, Charles. It’s not that complicated for a legal mind like yours.”
“Complicated? No. Stupid, yes.”
“Why? I thought you’d be pleased. I’ve covered every eventuality.”
“What does this woman look like?”
Charles’s unexpected question shook Will. “Why?”
“I heard she was a knockout. A redheaded bombshell.” Charles’s gaze remained fixed on Will.
How could he deny Charles’s description? Even thinking about the way Kate had looked last night, the response from the other men, hell, from him, made denial impossible. “You heard right,” he admitted tersely.
“And you want to put in the contract that if you have sex, even consensual sex, she gets half of everything?” Charles’s voice rose higher with each word.
“Don’t you have any faith in my self-control?” Will asked, glaring at his friend.
“Not unless you’re no longer male. Proximity, legality and sex appeal don’t promote abstinence when they’re combined. It would be too easy to let yourself believe she cares about you when your hormones are in overdrive.”
“Well, maybe I’ll hang a copy of our agreement over my bed so I can’t forget.” Or a picture of his mother. Either one would be a reminder that women are out for what they can get...and nothing more.
“Man, you are crazy,” Charles returned. “Don’t you want to take some time to think about this—this contract?”
“Nope. She might change her mind.” Will was afraid Kate might decide he wasn’t offering enough and up her demands. “Can you have the contract ready by four this afternoon?”
“Four?” Charles exploded. “You’ve got to be kidding! This kind of contract is new to me. I’ve got to check out precedents, confirm legal opinions, word it exactly so as not to—”
“Just write it in plain English, Charles. Not that gobbledygook you lawyers use.”
“That gobbledygook, as you call it, is what protects you from lawsuits. We won that suit filed by the last small businessman you sponsored because of it.”
“This contract is personal. And I’m going to abide by my part of it, so we don’t have to worry about that clause coming into play.”
“You’ve taken up monkdom? Become a eunuch?”
“No, but I’m not an animal. If I have an itch, I’ll find another way to scratch it, okay? She’s not the only beautiful woman in the world.”
“So you want me to make it clear that fidelity is not a requirement?”
“Man, does that sound crass or what? Surely we don’t have to spell that kind of thing out?”
“The more we spell out, the less likely you’ll find yourself in court trying to hang on to your company. And be sure she has legal representation present. We don’t want her claiming we misled her.”
Charles’s stern look didn’t impress Will all that much, but the thought of losing the company he’d inherited from his father and nourished and pushed into a large corporation did.
“Okay, put in whatever you have to. Then meet me at The Lucky Charm Diner on Wornall Avenue at four o’clock, multiple copies in hand.”
Without protesting again, Charles strode from the office, muttering under his breath. Will figured he was already writing his opening paragraph of the agreement in his mind. Charles was nothing if not efficient.
Only occasionally did the hard, cold reality of all the aspects of her agreement impose on Kate’s active brain that day. She let her spirits soar as she thought about the new decor of the diner, the new equipment, the opportunity to expand her culinary repertoire beyond chili, bacon and eggs, and hamburgers.
And maybe the opportunity to provide for her family, as Pop would have done.
She was so lost in her dreams, it was a shock to answer the phone and hear William Hardison’s voice on the line.
“My lawyer is going to meet me at the diner at four o’clock with the agreement ready for signing.”
She checked her watch. “But it’s three o’clock now.”
“Yes, and you’ll need a lawyer present.”
Nothing else. No apology for the short notice, no offer to meet at another time. The man was a definite autocrat.
“Okay.” She could be as terse as he.
“I’ll see you then.”
He left no time for her response. As she opened her mouth, the dial tone sounded in her ear. She slammed the receiver down in irritation. If he thought he was going to steamroll her, he had another think coming. She...and her lawyer...would read every word, study every comma, before she signed any legal document.
Since she’d already talked to Tori, she only had to let her know the time of the meeting, and listen to her complaints about short notice. But she knew Tori would be there.
Forty-five minutes later, her friend rushed through the door of the diner. “I’m here, but I left a disaster at the office. This had better be a good deal for you.”
Kate hugged her friend. “Thanks. You know it is. I’m going to achieve my dream.”

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