Kitabı oku: «Beauty and the Wolf / Their Miracle Twins: Beauty and the Wolf»

Beauty and
the Wolf
Lois Faye Dyer
Their Miracle
Twins
Nikki Logan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Beauty and the Wolf

Dear Reader,

Collaborating with friends Chris Flynn, Pat Kay and Allison Leigh to create our second HUNT FOR Cinderella mini-series ranks in my top-ten, most-fun-ever projects. We four had so much fun brainstorming these books. Billionaire HARRY HUNT has turned his matchmaking focus on the four Fairchild sisters—and in my story, Frankie Fairchild is determined to foil his benevolent scheming. But when she enlists childhood crush Eli Wolf in a plan to stymie Harry, she gets far more than a co-conspirator—because Eli is the one man Frankie has never been able to resist. And unknown to Frankie, Eli’s more than ready to convince her he’s the one man she can trust with her heart.

I hope you enjoy Frankie and Eli’s story—and that you’ll return next month for Meet Mr Prince by Patricia Kay for the final installment in the HUNT FOR CINDERELLA series.

Happy reading!

Lois

About the Author

LOIS FAYE DYER lives in a small town on the shore of beautiful Puget Sound in the Pacific Northwest with her two eccentric and lovable cats, Chloe and Evie. She loves to hear from readers. You can write to her c/o Paperbacks Plus, 1618 Bay Street, Port Orchard, WA 98366. Visit her on the web at www.LoisDyer.com.

For Michael, Stefanie, Randall, Lilia and Ava—

you’re the best family possible.

Chapter One

The living room of Harry Hunt’s lakeside mansion in Seattle glowed with warm light. Two matching Tiffany chandeliers were suspended from the high ceiling at each end of the spacious room, their stained-glass flowers vibrant with color. Outside, the rain and wind of a Pacific Northwest storm picked up speed as it raced across Lake Washington to hammer against the window glass. Inside, the people gathered in the big room were warm and comfortable, thanks to the fire crackling in the hearth beneath the hand-carved cedar mantel.

Frankie Fairchild rose from an overstuffed armchair and crossed the room to the bar, leaving her mother, Cornelia, chatting animatedly with Lily Hunt. Several bottles were clustered on the gleaming mahogany surface, and Frankie chose one with a distinctive label. The tart white wine from the Chateau Ste. Michelle Winery just north of Seattle was a personal favorite. She tilted the bottle to refill her glass.

As she sipped from the stemmed crystal, her gaze drifted idly over the room, pausing at the sight of her cousin Justin’s little daughter, Ava, hopping along the edge of the oriental wool carpet.

Harry’s neighbor, local actress Madge Edgley, bent to speak to Ava as the child reached the quartet of people chatting together on the bright red and blue carpet.

Harry always invites the nicest mix of friends and interesting people to his get-togethers, Frankie thought with appreciation. She moved on, noting familiar faces in the groups of people scattered around the long room, until she reached the group of men standing in front of the fireplace. Her uncle Harry and his son Justin were deep in conversation with two other men. Frankie knew one of them—Nicholas Dean—only slightly. The fourth man she knew very well. Eli Wolf was tall and broad-shouldered, with black hair and a rugged handsomeness that could make a woman’s heart stutter if he smiled directly at her.

Eli looked up, snaring her with an intent look from smoky blue eyes. Frankie froze, unable to look away.

It wasn’t until he turned to answer a question from Harry that Frankie realized she’d been holding her breath, caught by that enigmatic, very male stare.

She spun around to face the bar, topping off her wine with faintly trembling fingers.

What on earth is wrong with me?

Ever since Eli had given her a kiss at her last birthday party, she’d been thinking about him much too often. The kiss had sizzled, smoked, even though it was too short. In fact, the memory of his mouth on hers hadn’t faded in the four months since; if she closed her eyes, she could still feel the heat. She’d actually conducted an experiment over the last couple of months, purposefully kissing three other very attractive men. Though all three were adept, practiced and assured at kissing, none of them had stirred one iota of serious interest, let alone lust. She’d felt nothing remotely resembling what she’d felt with Eli. Zero. Zip. Nada.

It was very annoying.

She couldn’t decide what to do about it, if anything. And inaction was so unlike her that her inability to decisively resolve the issue and put it behind her was worrisome.

“Frankie.” A friendly pat on her shoulder accompanied the greeting. “How are you, honey?”

She turned around, glad of the distraction from her thoughts, smiling with affection at the tall, lanky man who was her host. “I’m good, Uncle Harry.” She glanced over his shoulder. “I thought you were busy talking business with Nicholas.”

“I was.” Harry’s shrewd gaze went from Frankie’s face and down the length of the room to the fireplace, where the owner of Dean Construction stood with Justin and Eli. “I must say I’m impressed with Nicholas. He’s built his daddy’s construction company into a solid corporation, despite strong competition. I’d bet money he’ll triple his net worth in the next five years.”

“You’re rarely wrong about these things, so he must be an excellent businessman.” Frankie sipped her white wine, her gaze following Harry’s. There was no question Nicholas Dean’s appearance backed up Harry’s assessment of his potential for success; he fairly oozed self-confidence. He was tall, well built and had an air of easy, affable friendliness that was belied by his sharply intelligent eyes. His presence here tonight, at a gathering of Harry’s family and personal friends, was significant. Frankie met Harry’s eyes once again. “You’re thinking of giving him the contract for building the new HuntCom campus in south Seattle, aren’t you?” she guessed.

“I’m considering it.” Harry nodded. “I’ve narrowed the list down to two—it’s between him and Eli.”

“Hmm.” Frankie wasn’t surprised. Elijah Wolf was the head of Wolf Construction and fiercely competitive. He and Justin were in their thirties now and remained close, although Justin was married, with a little girl, and Eli was still a bachelor.

“If Nicholas gets the contract, we’ll be seeing a lot more of him,” Harry told her.

“Mmm-hmm,” Frankie murmured.

“Whoever gets the job will be working closely with my boys, of course,” he went on, “but Eli’s practically a member of the family already, while Nicholas isn’t as well known to us.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier, then, if you awarded the contract to Eli and his brothers at Wolf Construction?”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe. But if I don’t give Dean Construction fair consideration for the job, it smacks of nepotism.”

Frankie choked on a sip of wine. Harry immediately clapped a big hand against her back, thumping her between her shoulder blades.

“Are you all right?” he asked with concern.

“I’m fine, Uncle Harry,” she got out. She coughed to clear her throat and took another sip of wine. “It was the shock of hearing you mention nepotism as if it were a bad thing,” she said, tongue in cheek.

“I don’t practice nepotism,” he growled defensively.

Frankie laughed, her amusement drawing a reluctant grin from Harry.

“All right,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe I tend to take care of my family first, but is that a crime?”

Frankie gave him an impulsive hug, the familiar scent of his aftershave warming her with affectionate memories. “No, Uncle Harry, it’s not.”

“Well, then …” He wrapped an arm around her and gave her a quick hard hug in return. “Besides, you’ll notice I’m not automatically giving Eli the contract. I’m seriously considering Dean Construction. That’s why Nicholas is here tonight—to see how he fits in with our family and friends.”

“He seems to be doing just fine,” Frankie told him, knowing Harry considered business a family matter.

“Yes, he does.” Harry’s gaze rested on Nicholas for a moment. “He’d make a good husband for some lucky woman,” he commented guilelessly.

“Hmm,” Frankie responded, distracted as Ava, Justin and Lily’s daughter, ran across the room and threw herself at Eli. Eli laughed, swinging the little girl high in the air before settling her on his hip. Ava cupped his face in her little hands and gave him an enthusiastic kiss. Eli’s eyes sparkled with amusement and his mouth curved in a grin, white teeth flashing in his tanned face. Distracted and charmed by the unabashed affection between the big, undeniably handsome man and the dainty, feminine little girl, it was a moment before Frankie registered Harry’s last words. Her gaze snapped to his face. He was eyeing her with an all-too-familiar expression. She nearly groaned aloud. Oh, no. Surely he’s not matchmaking again—and with me and Nicholas Dean?

She lowered her lashes and hoped her expression didn’t give away her suspicions as her mind raced, considering the possibility that Harry had turned his penchant for meddling on her.

“Nicholas has what a woman should be looking for in a husband,” Harry continued. “He’s proven he’s dedicated to business, so he’ll be a good provider. Plus, he’s young enough to have children but old enough to be a settled father.”

Frankie blinked, staring at Harry. “You think that’s all a woman wants in a husband? How did you arrive at this abbreviated list?”

Harry waved a hand dismissively. “I covered the essentials. If a woman wants romance, then I suppose Nicholas qualifies in that department—he’s not a bad-looking guy.”

“Harry, you’re astounding.” Frankie leaned closer, gripping his lapel and staring into his eyes. “You left out something extremely important.”

“What’s that?” Harry’s deep voice rumbled, his voice suspicious, as if he was bracing for a blistering lecture.

“You left out the all important x-factor.”

His eyebrows lifted. “The x-factor? I’ve never heard of it.”

“Some people call it chemistry. Some call it sexual attraction. I call it the x-factor.” And Eli has it in spades. The thought flashed through her mind, startling her.

“And you think Nicholas doesn’t have it?” Harry sounded skeptical.

“I don’t know,” Frankie admitted. “I’ve never been out with him. I was speaking in general terms about women and men.”

“Then you’re conceding you might be attracted to Nicholas Dean,” Harry said shrewdly.

“No.” Frankie let go of Harry’s lapel and shook her head, exasperated. Over the last few months, she’d successfully ducked Harry’s attempts to meddle in her love life, but her sisters Tommi and Bobbie hadn’t been as lucky. Fortunately, they’d managed to meet and fall in love with wonderful men on their own, despite Harry’s interference. There was no guarantee Frankie would be as lucky, however. She did not want Harry focused on finding a husband for her. The very thought was enough to make her shudder and break out in hives. “And we’re not talking about Nicholas and me—there is no Nicholas and me,” she stressed.

“But there could be,” Harry insisted. “As soon as his company was shortlisted for HuntCom’s south Seattle construction, I had the usual background check run. Which is why I know Dean Construction badly wants to win the contract. I’m dead sure Nicholas will cooperate in getting to know you—and you can find out if the two of you are attracted to each other.”

“Harry,” Frankie said with forced calm. “I am not going to date Nicholas Dean. I don’t need my uncle’s help in finding men.”

“It’s not as if I’m out there tracking down men for you, Frankie,” Harry protested. “But—”

“Good,” Frankie interrupted. “Because if I thought you were trolling Seattle looking for men you can coerce into dating me, I’d go hire a hit man and give him your address.”

“Frankie!” Harry looked shocked, but his eyes twinkled. “That’s a terrible thing to say. What would your mother think of her favorite daughter threatening my life?”

“She’s used to you, Uncle Harry,” Frankie said dryly. “She’d probably just ask me what you’d done this time to deserve it.”

Harry threw back his head and roared with laugh ter.

Harry’s booming laugh drew everyone’s attention. Eli Wolf looked up, over the top of Ava’s dark curls and across the room at Frankie Fairchild. She sipped white wine from a stemmed glass, her thick-lashed brown eyes fixed on Harry, an amused smile curving her lips. She was tall at five-eight, with long legs and curves that made a man’s hands itch to stroke her. Caramel-blond hair fell to her shoulders in a sleek curtain, framing her beautiful face. The simple, clean-cut lines of a black cocktail dress clung to her body, the long sleeves ending at her wrists. The dress hem was just above her knees, drawing the eye to sleek calves and the delicate bones of her ankles above black pumps with impossibly high heels.

Eli wondered how women walked in those things.

He’d known Francesca Fairchild since she was a little girl. Also, her cousin Justin was his best friend. Unfortunately, those two facts meant Frankie was strictly off-limits for all the things he’d like to do with her—something he’d regretted more often than he cared to think about. Especially over the past four months—ever since that unforgettable kiss at her birthday party.

“Unca Eli?” Ava’s small hand tugged his face around until she could meet his gaze. “Mommy says I can have a pet bunny, but first we have to get a cage for him. Will you make one for me? And can I come visit and help you hammer the nails and boards when you make it?”

Eli grinned, glad to be distracted from thoughts of Frankie and charmed as always by the little girl’s green eyes and hopeful smile. “Sure, honey. Let’s go ask your mom and dad when we can do that.”

With Ava perched on his hip, Eli strode across the room to join her parents and settle into a leather armchair. The seat gave him an unobstructed view of Frankie and was placed at right angles to the sofa where Justin and Lily chatted with Cornelia Fairchild, Frankie’s mother.

“Mommy.” Ava’s clear voice piped up. “Unca Eli’s going to help me build a bunny house.”

“That’s wonderful, honey.” Lily’s rueful gaze met Eli’s. “And how does Uncle Eli feel about this?”

“We have a plan,” Eli told her with a grin. “And it includes Justin’s barbecuing steaks for my granddad to pay my carpenter fee.”

“What? How did I get caught up in this?” Justin demanded, his eyes amused.

“Hey, you’re the dad,” Eli told him with a shrug. “I’m just the uncle.”

“I love you, Unca Eli.” Ava wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek.

“I love you, too.” Eli barely had time to register the swell of affection that filled him before the little girl jumped off his lap and climbed onto her father’s. Both Justin and Lily received hugs and kisses, the adults exchanging amused looks.

Ava launched into an excited description of plans for the rabbit hutch.

Only half-listening, Eli leaned back in the comfortable chair, his gaze going past the trio and across the room, drawn inexorably to Frankie once again.

The interplay between her and Harry as they conversed held the ease of comfortable familiarity. Frankie’s smile was affectionate as she smiled up at Harry, whose black hair and shrewd eyes, hidden behind dark-framed glasses, belied his age. Eli knew Frankie’s father had died when she was a child and if one could judge by appearances, it seemed Harry had stepped in to fill the role.

We have that in common, except it was my grandfather who took over my father’s role, Eli mused. And Frankie still has her mom while I lost both parents.

Cornelia was a force to be reckoned with, Eli thought, glancing at the older woman’s serene face as she listened to Ava describe her rabbit.

But then, so was Jack Wolf. Eli’s grandfather had taken in Eli and his three brothers, Conner, Ethan and Matt, a short two hours after a car crash on Seattle’s I-5 had taken their parents’ lives. Already a widower, Jack became a substitute parent to the four grieving boys, and his fierce commitment and support had created a family to heal their shattered lives.

Frankie watched Eli and Ava cross the room to join Justin and Lily, the little girl waving her hands excitedly as she talked.

“Why are you so determined to fix me up with Nicholas?” she demanded in an attempt to distract Harry, gesturing with her glass. “What about Eli? He’s single, he and his brothers own a successful construction company—isn’t he on your list of potential suitors?”

Harry glanced over his shoulder. “I’d be happy if you dated Eli. I like the boy,” he told her. “But he shows no signs of wanting to settle down. I suspect he’s a confirmed bachelor—I doubt he’ll ever marry.”

“You felt the same way about Justin once,” Frankie reminded him. “And look at him now—devoted father, loving husband. He’s a contented, happy man since he married Lily.”

“True,” Harry conceded with a dismissive shrug. “But Eli’s different than Justin. Justin hadn’t dated for a year or more before he and Lily got back together. He clearly needed Lily and wanted a wife and family. But like I said, Eli’s never given the slightest indication of being ready to settle down.” He nodded in Nicholas’s direction. “Now, you take Nicholas—he seems much more the type to marry and start a family.”

Frankie only half listened as Harry continued to list Nicholas Dean’s virtues. Unfortunately, she had to agree with Harry about Eli. He’d spent most of the last year recovering in stages after an accident on a construction site that snapped the bone in his lower left leg. Prior to that, however, if rumor was true, he’d been perfectly happy running his company and dating a variety of women. He’d been the poster boy for the quintessential bachelor before his accident, and Frankie assumed he’d returned to his active dating life now that he was recovered.

Wait a minute. Her eyes narrowed with sudden insight. The only way she could convince Harry to scratch her off his list of unmarried family members in need of his matchmaking assistance was if she could make him believe she was in a serious relationship.

But she wasn’t dating anyone at the moment, let alone deeply involved. What she needed, she realized, was a man willing to conspire with her to foil Harry. A man who, like her, had something to gain from plotting against her uncle. And a man who had no interest in settling down.

Eli Wolf was exactly the kind of man she needed.

She glanced sideways at Harry, murmuring a noncommittal response as he listed the charities that Nicholas Dean had contributed to the prior year.

The question was, would Eli be willing to plot with her to trick Harry?

“… and Nicholas said his family has lived in Queen Anne for over a hundred years,” Harry’s deep voice recited.

“Interesting,” Frankie murmured, catching only the end of Harry’s comment.

“Both of his grandmothers are alive,” Harry continued, “and live within a few blocks of each other on prime pieces of real estate.”

Harry kept talking, but Frankie tuned him out as she considered Harry’s matchmaking and how to stop him. She cherished her independence, loved her job as a research assistant and substitute English-literature professor at the University of Washington, and had no interest in changing her life. She was happy, content and did not want Harry nudging her toward marriage, no matter how well-intentioned his efforts.

Once again, her gaze went across the room, unerringly zeroing in on Eli. He and Ava were now seated with Lily and Cornelia, the little girl perched on his knee as she waved her hands and chattered enthusiastically to her mother.

Eli Wolf was the only man she knew who could stop Harry’s plans. He was well liked by Harry; in fact, he was practically an adopted son. And his company would benefit by getting the contract for constructing the HuntCom campus, so he, too, would benefit from joining forces with her.

An hour later, Frankie was still mulling over the potential scheme as she drove home. It wasn’t until she was in her pajamas and in bed, a book opened and then ignored on her lap, that she faced another, potentially more important, issue.

If Eli agreed to help her, they would have to spend time together pretending to be a couple. And maybe—just maybe—she would finally get over her long-ago crush on him.

She’d known Eli since she was eleven years old and her cousin Justin had brought his best friend to a party at Harry’s house. When she was fifteen, he’d joined Justin in vetting and harassing her first boyfriends, all under the guise of being protective stand-in brothers.

At sixteen, she’d suffered through a major crush on Eli, who was then twenty-one. By the time she was nineteen, she’d believed her crush was behind her and was relieved she’d kept her feelings a secret. She hadn’t even told her three sisters, Georgie, Tommi and Bobbie, about it.

She’d thought yearning after Eli Wolf was a part of her childish, romantic past, her feelings packed away with other high school memories. She’d gone on to date college boys and, later, a fellow professor at the University of Washington, a CPA and a lawyer or two.

She frowned at the blurred lines of type in the open book, not seeing the words.

Until he’d kissed her to wish her happy birthday, she’d been so sure she was over her crush. But the kissing experiment with three other men had raised serious questions.

Surely it couldn’t be that Eli Wolf’s kisses were addictive and had resurrected her schoolgirl infatuation—but if not, why did other men’s lips taste bland and boring?

She needed an answer. She didn’t date often, preferring instead to have a mixed circle of friends who attended events in a group. But in her admittedly limited experience, she’d never yet met a man who could hold her interest longer than a few dates. Surely the same thing would happen with Eli—and she’d permanently set aside her childish adoration for him and move on to happily date other men.

But what if she fell for him, rather than growing tired of him?

That won’t happen, she scoffed silently as she closed her book, set it on the nightstand and snapped off the lamp. I’m not foolish enough to fall in love with a commitment-phobic bachelor.

But she’d have to be on guard, she thought sleepily. She liked her life just as it was. She didn’t want to fall in love and surrender her independence or change the basics of her comfortable life. Though twenty years had passed since her father’s death, she vividly remembered the following days and months and how devastated her mother had been. Watching her mother over those early years as she coped with grief, Frankie had come to believe that loving deeply carried the potential for even deeper hurt.

Because Cornelia, Frankie and her sisters had adored George Fairchild. It wasn’t until after his death that they’d learned he’d had a gambling habit that left his grieving family nearly destitute.

She’d trusted her father with all the blind faith of a child. While she hadn’t stopped loving him, as she grew older she’d sworn never to foolishly trust a man that deeply again.

She’d always been goal-oriented and focused, she thought, stifling a yawn. Surely she could be the same while dealing with Eli? She’d keep her eyes on the prize—derailing Harry’s matchmaking intentions and putting to rest forever any remnants of her teenage crush.

Satisfied she’d fully considered and understood both the upside and downside of her plan, Frankie fell asleep.

She dreamed of a tall, broad-shouldered man with black hair and smoky-blue eyes—he held out his arms and her dream self ran joyously toward him.

In her quiet bedroom, she tossed and turned, murmuring and tangling the blankets as she dreamed.

Chapter Two

Two days after dinner at Harry’s house, Frankie left her office on the University of Washington campus midmorning and drove to Ballard. The Seattle community was twenty minutes west of the UW campus and an equal distance northwest of downtown Seattle. Wolf Construction’s business office was located in the industrial section near the Ballard Locks. Except for a diesel pickup truck with a Wolf Construction logo on the door, the parking lot on the south side of the building was empty.

When she entered the outer office, the reception area was quiet and empty, the two secretarial desks vacant.

“Hello?” No one answered her call, and she frowned. Surely the office’s outer door would have been locked if no one was here?

The silence was broken by a loud thump somewhere deeper in the building, followed by a male voice muttering what sounded like swearing. Frankie peered past the desks and down the hallway beyond, where several doors stood open into offices.

“Hello?” she called again. When no one appeared, Frankie waited another moment before determinedly rounding the desk and marching down the hall.

“Damn it,” a male voice rumbled with annoyance. “Where the hell did Connor put those plans?”

Frankie followed the deep voice, stepping into an office. She halted just inside. Eli stood across the room, his back to her as he pulled open a drawer and shuffled through the papers inside. He wore heavy black work boots, jeans and a black T-shirt. He bent over the drawer, and faded denim pulled tight over his rear. Beneath the snug clothes, sculpted muscles shifted and bunched as he stretched to reach the back of the drawer. Frankie stared, riveted, her body heating as her gaze followed the movements of his powerful body.

He straightened, shoving the drawer closed and opening the next one with an impatient jerk.

The noise snapped Frankie out of the spell that held her, and she gathered her composure, taking a deep, calming breath. “Hello, Eli.”

He stiffened and quickly swung around, his eyes flaring with surprise just before his mouth curved in a grin.

“Frankie? What are you doing here?”

Now that she was actually about to propose her plan to Eli, Frankie was suddenly nervous. Her fingers gripped the leather strap of her black Coach purse a bit tighter.

“I need to talk to you about something. Do you have a few minutes?”

Clearly surprised, he cocked his head to the side, considering her for a brief moment. “Sure.” He tossed a roll of blueprints into the open drawer, pushed it closed and moved away from the cabinet. “Come on in. Have a seat.” He gestured at the two leather armchairs facing the desk. “I’d offer you something to drink, but the office staff has the day off and the coffee is probably cold sludge left over from yesterday.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine.” Frankie crossed to the chair and sat, perching on the edge of the comfortable seat.

Eli half sat on the edge of the desk facing her. The position had him much too close to her. She had to look up to meet his gaze. At eye level, the worn denim of his jeans stretched across powerful thighs. Determinedly, she kept her gaze on his face.

“So, tell me,” he prompted when she hesitated. “What brings you to Ballard this morning?”

Now that she was here, faced with explaining her plan to Eli, Frankie was reluctant to begin the conversation.

“What were you looking for when I came in?” she asked, not answering his question. “You sounded frustrated.”

Eli glanced over his shoulder at the cabinet. “Frustrated isn’t a strong enough word,” he said, his gaze swinging back to meet hers. “My brother Connor told his secretary to send the blueprints down to the job site, but she sent the wrong ones. I came back to pick them up, but I’ll be damned if I can find them.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the cabinet with its long drawers. “They’re not in the project drawer.” He sounded thoroughly disgusted.

“Can you call him on his cell and ask him?” Frankie suggested.

“I tried that,” he told her. “He’s not answering.”

“I’m sorry,” she said with sympathy. “I know how disturbing it can be to have a project stopped. I hate wasting time while I wait for someone to respond before I can move forward.”

He nodded, his blue eyes warming. “It’s bloody annoying,” he agreed.

Eli studied Frankie through narrowed eyes.

She’s nervous, he thought with surprise. Making small talk about his search for the blueprints was only a ruse to delay telling him why she was here.

When he’d swung around and saw her framed in the office doorway, he’d been slammed with the same jolt of awareness that had plagued him ever since they’d shared a kiss at her birthday party four months earlier. Though it was meant to be casual, he hadn’t been able to forget the feel and taste of Frankie’s soft, lush mouth under his.

She’d featured prominently in more than one hot, sweaty dream ever since, leaving him sleep deprived and cranky the next morning.

He raked his fingers through his hair and shifted, forcing himself to remember the beautiful blonde sitting in the chair facing him was Justin’s cousin and, therefore, off-limits. “Come on, Frankie,” he coaxed. “Tell me why you’re here.”

She shifted in her chair, slim fingers tucking a strand of hair behind one small ear. She sat primly, feet aligned on the floor, hands now resting quietly on her lap. “I’ve known you a long time, Eli,” she began. “And more importantly, you’ve known my uncle Harry since you were a teenager. I’m sure you’re aware of Harry’s scheme to force his sons to marry, and how Justin fell in love with Lily in spite of Harry’s interference.”

“Of course.” Eli nodded. “Justin told me before the wedding.”

“What you might not be aware of,” Frankie went on, “is that Harry seems to think that since his scheming to force his sons to marry turned out so well, he’s decided to become a matchmaker for the Fairchilds. All four of us—including me.”

Eli was stunned. “You’re kidding” was all he could manage to get out. He shook his head in disbelief, but Frankie’s face didn’t look as if this was a joke. “That doesn’t make any sense. He damn near ruined all four of his sons’ chances at marrying the women they wanted.”

“I know!” Frankie leaned forward. “And he almost did the same with Tommi and Bobbie! Apparently, he thinks he’s successful, however, because he’s turned his sights on me.”

“What the hell?” Eli felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. “Who does Harry want you to marry?”

“Nicholas Dean.”

Oh, hell no! Eli’s rejection of the possibility that Frankie would marry Nicholas Dean was visceral and immediate. Somehow, he kept himself from snarling aloud. “Why did he pick Dean?” he asked, aware his voice was deeper, rougher than it had been only moments before.

Frankie waved one small, graceful hand. “Who knows? I think he picked Nicholas because Dean Construction was on Harry’s radar. Harry told me he’d run the usual background check on the company when it was shortlisted for the contract to build HuntCom’s new building in south Seattle. Evidently, Harry was impressed with Nicholas’s work ethic, plus the fact that he’s single, so Harry decided he should encourage Nicholas to ask me out.”

“And you’re not on board with the plan?”

“No!” Frankie frowned at him, her brown eyes sparking with gold. “I’m not.”

“I see.” Relief flooded Eli, the corners of his mouth lifting in a grin. “And you want me to tell Harry you’re not interested in dating Nicholas?” he guessed.

“I’ve already told Uncle Harry I’m not interested,” she informed him. “It didn’t faze him, and I suspect he’s working on a scheme to push me and Nicholas together even as we speak.”

Eli’s smile disappeared.

“I’ve watched Uncle Harry interfere in Tommi’s and Bobbie’s love lives,” Frankie went on. “And I’m convinced the only way to stop his matchmaking is to convince him that I’m taken. That’s where you come in.”

Eli blinked. “That’s where I come in?” he repeated.

She nodded decisively. “I have zero interest in getting married—and the general consensus of opinion in the family is that you don’t, either. Which makes you the perfect person for my plan.”

Eli narrowed his eyes over her thoughtfully. “I’m not sure I’m following you. Maybe you should give me the abbreviated version.”

Frankie waved her hands expressively, her expression wry. “I’m sorry—let me back up. The other night at Harry’s house when he was telling me all the reasons I should want to date and perhaps marry Nicholas Dean, you were standing across the room holding Ava. I’m afraid I used you to distract Harry and asked him why he didn’t suggest you as a potential husband. He told me he doubted you would marry. He said you seemed perfectly happy with your life as it was. Well …” She shrugged. “The moment Harry said that, I realized you were the perfect person for me to date, because neither of us wants to get married. When Harry kept droning on about all of Nicholas’s good qualities, I had a brainstorm.”

“A brainstorm,” Eli repeated. He realized belatedly that he kept repeating her statements and told himself to stop.

“Yes, exactly.” She leaned forward, her brown eyes gleaming with determination. “Which brings me to the reason I came to see you today. I need to convince Harry I’m madly in love and deeply committed to someone so he’ll stop trying to pair me up with single men. But I’m not in love, and there’s no one on my horizon. So I need someone to pretend to be involved with, while you,” she continued, pointing at him, “would like Wolf Construction to win the contract for the new HuntCom building. So … my proposal is that we team up. If you’ll pretend to be involved with me, I can almost guarantee Uncle Harry will move Wolf Construction to the top of the list for the contract. He’s already narrowed it down to you and Nicholas, and he as good as admitted to me that he’s inclined to award contracts to family or close family friends.”

“You want me to date you in order to get Harry to give my company a contract?” Eli asked, his tone neutral.

“Not exactly,” she told him. “I’m only suggesting that we both have something to gain—and frankly, I need a pretend-date/boyfriend as fast as possible. Harry, my mother and sisters already know and adore you, so they won’t bat an eye if it’s you I claim to have fallen madly in love with. If I introduce someone new, they’re going to be more skeptical. I want Harry off my back. Heaven knows what trouble he can stir up for me.” She shuddered.

Eli stared at her for a long moment. He didn’t want her believing he was the kind of man who would use her to gain a lucrative construction contract. On the other hand, there was no way he’d let her be courted by Nicholas Dean.

Not that Dean was a bad guy. He was, in fact, everything Harry thought he was—smart, successful and played a mean game of pool. Just the kind of man a woman could easily fall in love with.

Which was why there was no way in hell Eli was going to let him near Frankie, not if he could help it. He knew he was being territorial, but he couldn’t seem to help it.

Probably because I want to be the one burning up the sheets with Frankie, he thought. In fact, he realized with a start, he’d felt that way for months.

And it was time he did something about it.

“Well,” she said expectantly, interrupting his thoughts. “Will you do it?”

“Yeah,” he said with a slow drawl. “I will.” He stood, bending to cup her elbow and lift her from the chair. “Let’s go get some coffee and talk about the details.”

He hustled her out of the office and down the street to Zena’s Café before she had time to change her mind.

“So,” he said when they were seated in a booth with steaming mugs in front of them, “how do you envision going forward with this campaign to fool Harry?”

“I thought we’d keep it simple,” Frankie told him. “We can work out a list of events Harry is likely to attend. Then we can appear together and pretend to be in love while Harry’s watching. Hopefully, it won’t take long to convince him. Once he accepts that, he can cross me off his matchmaking list and sign your company contract for the new HuntCom campus, and we can go back to our normal lives.”

“Harry’s pretty shrewd—I’m not sure he’s going to be as easy to convince as you seem to think,” Eli told her. “He didn’t get his reputation as a shark in the financial world by being dense.”

“But that’s business.” Frankie propped her forearms on the polished wood tabletop and leaned forward. “When it comes to personal relationships, Harry can be amazingly unaware. Look at the women he married—disasters, every one of them.”

“You’ve got a point.” Eli shrugged. “It’s hard to argue with his marital record. The only good thing about Harry’s ex-wives is that he stopped getting married after making four bad choices.”

“Exactly.” Frankie nodded decisively. “I truly anticipate he’ll accept our romantic smoke screen as fact. I don’t think he’ll look deeper.”

“Nevertheless,” Eli told her. “If we’re going to do this, let’s do it right. Remember,” he cautioned her, “it’s not just Harry we have to convince. Your mother or sisters are likely to be attending the same functions as Harry. If we’re not believable, they’ll never buy it. Cornelia’s not going to be easy to fool—especially when it comes to one of her daughters. And if Cornelia knows we’re faking, she’s likely to tell Harry.”

Frankie frowned, unconsciously winding a lock of hair around her forefinger in a gesture Eli had noticed her make before when she was deep in thought.

“You’re right,” she murmured. She looked up at Eli, her brown eyes alive with bright determination, gold flecks swimming in the chocolate-brown depths. “So we can’t let her know we’re pretending. Think you can pull it off?”

Her tone matched the challenge in the quick curve of her lips.

“Absolutely.” He lifted a brow, tossing the challenge back at her with a slow smile. “The question is, can you?”

She laughed, shrugging in a quick, elegant shift of her shoulders beneath the tailored blue suit jacket. “A woman learns to fake being interested in a guy before she’s out of junior high school. It’s a rite of passage.”

“Yeah?” Startled and intrigued, Eli lifted an eyebrow in inquiry. “Why in junior high?”

“Because at my school, that was the first year of boy-girl dances, and every girl wanted a date. Unfortunately, the girls outnumbered the boys two-to-one. Which meant there was a lot of competition for invitations to the school functions.”

Eli swept a slow, appreciative gaze over her face, hair, down her throat and the swell of her breasts beneath the cream blouse she wore under her suit jacket. The table edge prevented him from going lower, and he returned to meet her eyes. “I bet you never had to compete for a date. I’m guessing the boys were lined up next to your school locker, waiting for you to choose.”

She threw back her head and laughed, the throaty musical sound stroking over Eli as if she’d touched him.

“Not hardly,” she said when she stopped chuckling, her eyes dancing. “When I was thirteen, I wore braces, was skinny—straight up and down without a curve in sight—spent most of my time with my nose buried in a book, and last but not least, I was taller than any boy in my class. So, no … I wasn’t exactly the most desirable date on anyone’s list.” She lifted her cup and sipped, eyeing him with amusement.

“No kidding?” Bemused, he stared at her. “I’m trying to imagine you as a skinny thirteen-year-old with crooked teeth, and it just doesn’t compute.”

“I’ll show you one of my seventh-grade class pictures sometime. Trust me—I’m not lying. In fact …” She considered for a moment. “It’s entirely possible that the reality of my thirteen-year-old nerdiness was much worse than I’m describing.”

Eli laughed, charmed by her candid comments. “Why don’t I remember you at thirteen?” he asked.

“Because you and Justin were freshmen in college that year and really busy—I hardly saw Justin that year, except for dinner on Christmas Day,” Frankie told him.

“That’s right,” Eli mused, thinking back. “First year at the UW was crazy busy. Now I wish I’d taken time to visit at Christmas. If I had, I could have seen you in braces.”

“You didn’t miss much,” she said dryly. “How about you? I’m guessing you weren’t a skinny nerd with braces when you were thirteen.”

Eli considered. “You’d have to ask the girls in my class whether they thought I was a nerd,” he told her. “I didn’t have braces, but I earned good grades and I was certainly a lot skinnier than I am now.”

“I bet you were cute.” She sighed. “If you’d been in my class, I’m sure you would have had girls lined up outside your locker.” She eyed him with curiosity. “And I bet you have girls lined up outside your condo now. It just occurred to me to wonder—do you have a lady friend who’s going to be upset with our pretend love affair?”

He shook his head. “No. If I did, I wouldn’t have agreed.”

She sipped her coffee and eyed him over the rim. “I know it’s none of my business, but after listening to the occasional comment from Justin, I’ve always assumed you’re usually dating someone. I’m glad you’re currently available, because it certainly makes my plan to fool Uncle Harry much easier, but why are you unattached?”

Eli didn’t want to tell her that even if he’d been dating someone, he would have untangled himself immediately. There was no way he’d let Harry maneuver her into dating and maybe marrying Nicholas Dean. He didn’t want to look too closely at the reasons he felt so strongly about Frankie dating Dean, but he accepted that he did.

“I suppose the truth is, I haven’t had time to think about dating lately. I’ve only been back at work full-time for a couple of months.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Her brown eyes warmed with sympathy. “I knew you were hurt at work last year, but I hadn’t realized you’d only recently recovered.”

“It took a while,” he said. “I fell off a scaffold on a construction site and broke my left leg.” He shrugged. “It was a clean break, but there were complications requiring two more surgeries—I was housebound and unable to work most of the year. Plus, I was in physical therapy off and on for months. The end result was that I was rarely in the office—or anywhere else, for that matter,” he added. “Practically the only social function I went to that year was your birthday party at Harry’s house. I was between surgeries that month.”

Her lashes lowered, screening her eyes, and faint color tinted her fair skin. “No wonder you aren’t involved with someone at the moment,” she said, lifting her gaze to his once more. “You haven’t had time.”

“No.” He pretended not to notice she’d avoided commenting about her birthday party but knew from the color in her cheeks that she hadn’t forgotten that kiss any more than he had. “The worst part was the boredom. I have no patience with sitting around. A guy can only watch so many cable-TV sports events without a break. Thank God I’m fully recovered and back at work, because, trust me—my grandfather and brothers were about ready to throw me into Puget Sound and let me drown.”

She laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’m sure you couldn’t have been that difficult.”

“According to them, I was worse,” he assured her. “I’m not a good patient—in fact, I’m lousy at it.” Maybe that was the reason he was so eager to take up Frankie’s plan to foil Harry, Eli thought. Maybe the memory of those long, boring months had made him susceptible to any pretty woman with an interesting scheme. “Your plan to outmaneuver Harry at his own game is perfect timing for me,” he told her, although he suspected Frankie was the most compelling element. “It’s just intriguing enough to distract me and make me forget those never-ending months of being stuck at home with my leg in a cast.”

“Whatever it is that made you agree, I’m just thankful you’ve said yes.” Frankie smiled at him and slid the tip of her tongue over the plump curve of her lower lip, licking away a drop of creamy coffee. Eli nearly groaned out loud, his body tensing.

He saw women drinking coffee nearly every morning when he stopped at the local Starbucks on his way to work. He didn’t have this reaction to any of them, he realized with a flash of awareness. Only Frankie managed to turn him on with one glimpse of the tip of her tongue sliding slowly over her bottom lip.

No, it’s not just any woman I want. It’s Frankie.