Sweeping The Bride Away

“I’m not disagreeing with you,” Blade said. “But I still think you’re settling. You have passion, verve.”

“What do you know about me?”

“I know enough.” His voice was quiet, cutting through the kitchen like a knife.

Cassidy whirled away from him and gripped the granite countertop.

“Cassidy.”

Something in the tone of his voice softened her.

“Yes?”

“Are you afraid to turn around and look at me?”

Actually, at that moment she was. All she had to do was stand in the room and she wanted him. He tempted her like chocolate cake, but she needed to remain true to her diet of bland. Slowly Cassidy turned around and looked at him, sensing the mistake the moment she did so.

Dear Reader,

This month we have a wonderful lineup of stories, guaranteed to warm you on these last chilly days of winter. First, Charlotte Douglas kicks things off with Surprise Inheritance, the third installment in Mills & Boon American Romance’s MILLIONAIRE, MONTANA series, in which a sexy sheriff is reunited with the woman he’s always loved when she returns to town to claim her inheritance.

Next, THE BABIES OF DOCTORS CIRCLE, Jacqueline Diamond’s new miniseries centered around a maternity and well-baby clinic, premieres this month with Diagnosis: Expecting Boss’s Baby. In this sparkling story, an unforgettable night of passion between a secretary and her handsome employer leads to an unexpected pregnancy.

Also available this month is Sweeping the Bride Away by Michele Dunaway. A bride-to-be is all set to wed “Mr. Boring” until she hires a rugged contractor who makes her pulse race and gives her second thoughts about her upcoming nuptials. Rounding things out is Professor & the Pregnant Nanny by Emily Dalton. This heartwarming story pairs a single dad in need of a nanny for his three adorable children with a woman who is alone, pregnant and in need of a job.

Enjoy this month’s offerings as Mills & Boon American Romance continues to celebrate twenty years of publishing the best in contemporary category romance fiction. Be sure to come back next month for more stories guaranteed to touch your heart!

Melissa Jeglinski

Associate Senior Editor

Mills & Boon American Romance

Sweeping the Bride Away

Michele Dunaway

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dedicated to my father, Larry M. Smith (1936-2002),

who always believed in me.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

In first grade MICHELE DUNAWAY knew she wanted to be a teacher when she grew up, and by second grade she wanted to be an author. By third grade she was determined to be both. Born and raised in a west county suburb of St. Louis, Michele recently moved to five acres in the rolling hills of Labadie. She’s traveled extensively, with the cities and places she’s visited often becoming settings for her stories.

Michele currently teaches high school English, raises her two young daughters and describes herself as a woman who does too much but doesn’t want to stop.

Michele loves to hear from readers, and you can visit her Web site at www.micheledunaway.com or write to her at P.O. Box 45, Labadie, MO 63055. Please enclose a SASE.

Books by Michele Dunaway

MILLS & BOON AMERICAN ROMANCE

848—A LITTLE OFFICE ROMANCE

900—TAMING THE TABLOID HEIRESS

921—THE SIMPLY SCANDALOUS PRINCESS

931—CATCHING THE CORPORATE PLAYBOY

963—SWEEPING THE BRIDE AWAY

A Bride-to-be’s Do’s and Don’ts

Do…

…listen to everything your busybody future mother-in-law has to say.

…go to dress fittings even though your wedding attire makes you look like a cumulus cloud.

…have fun with girlfriends before the wedding (especially to encourage them to find their own Mr. Perfect).

…write your future married name repeatedly.

Don’t…

…stare at the good-looking contractor who’s working on your house.

…even think about wearing his tool belt.

…contemplate long walks on the beach with your good-looking contractor.

…believe everything your fiancé says. Looks can be deceiving.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Chapter One

Mistake number one had been letting Lillian Morris, neighbor from hell and her future mother-in-law, in the front door. Yes, it would have been much better to have just ignored the doorbell and pretended she wasn’t home. But Cassidy Clayton had been waiting for the city building inspector, and when she’d opened the door, unfortunately he hadn’t been standing on the other side.

Cassidy looked at her fiancé’s mother and grimaced. Once again, this time within five seconds after Lillian’s arrival, Cassidy had been hit up to set an exact wedding date.

“I’m not sure,” she said slowly, for it was always wise to choose your words carefully around Lillian, “exactly, if Dan and I want to marry this June. We haven’t discussed it. After all, we’ve only been engaged two months. I was thinking more like October. That’s eight months from now.”

Lillian Morris peered over her horn-rimmed glasses and with a dismissive wave brushed off Cassidy’s concerns.

“Darling Cassidy, engagements should be short. Yours can be even shorter than normal, given that you’ve known my son all your life. Besides, a June wedding is perfect for you and Dan. Even Ed,” Lillian mentioned her husband, “agrees with me. He’s going to announce Luke’s candidacy for senate right after the best man’s wedding toast. Of course, Dan already agreed that his brother, Luke, would be best man. It’s only fitting.”

Great. Before Cassidy could even fully open her mouth to remind Lillian whose wedding it was supposed to be, Lillian went right on. After all, Dan was her baby boy.

“Besides,” Lillian said, “Dan and I discussed it just last night and he agreed that June is perfect. Of course he wants to see his older brother win the senate race and keep the seat in the family. Luke would be the third generation you know. And we’ll hold the reception at the Diamond Country Club. I’ve already contacted the manager, booked the room and arranged the menu. We’ll be starting with roving waiters carrying trays of appetizers that are—”

If only for a brief moment, the doorbell’s ringing interrupted Lillian’s prattle. The older woman blinked, as if startled, as she glanced at Cassidy. “Are you expecting anyone?”

Even the devil himself was welcome at this moment. “City building inspector,” Cassidy replied as she rose from the overstuffed armchair that had been her mother’s latest attempt at redecorating.

Lillian nodded. “Oh, that makes sense. I had wondered why you were here. Usually you’re at work by now.” Lillian waved her hand dramatically around Cassidy’s family home.

“You must be so grateful, Cassidy, to have sold this albatross. I’d imagine it gives you terrible memories, especially with your father divorcing your mother clear out of the blue like that after what, thirty-seven years of marriage? No wonder she took off for Cannes. I’d do the same. Not that my Ed would ever leave me. Some marriages are just meant to last. But I’ve always been lucky. I hope your mother isn’t taking too much of a loss on the property. She should have fetched quite a price for this neighborhood, especially selling it furnished like that.”

Cassidy’s smile tightened. Next-door neighbors for almost twenty-five years, Cassidy’s mother had always said that if Senator Ed Morris had thought divorcing his wife was less of a liability than was keeping her, then the tactless Lillian would have already been history.

Cassidy opened the front door. The elderly inspector standing between the columns looked like a smaller version of Santa Claus. Cassidy sighed. He seemed harmless enough. Grateful for the welcome diversion from Lillian and the already insane wedding planning, she bade him to come in without shooing Lillian out. Right after that, Cassidy discovered that not getting rid of Lillian was mistake number two.

FOUR HOURS LATER Cassidy tossed her handbag onto the wooden bar. It landed with a thump, nearly knocking the half-empty bowl of peanuts off the other side. She ignored the curious look crossing the face of the man seated to her right.

“Bud Light.” The words coming from her lips sounded foreign to her own ears.

But the bartender simply nodded as if dodging flying peanuts was the norm, and without a word of judgment, she took a beer from the cooler, removed the top and handed over the longneck bottle.

Cassidy placed the cold brown glass to her lips and took a long slow slip of the golden liquid. Normally she avoided beer, but today an ice-cold one sounded like just the medicine she needed. Besides, it would serve her fiancé and his silly mother right. When she was with them she only drank wine, for in their “crowd” domestic beer was frowned upon as something bourgeois. As if millions of Americans who tossed cold ones back every night could be wrong.

Oh well, drinking beer could be mistake number three in her perfectly ordered world. With satisfaction Cassidy mulled over that thought. After all, what else could happen?

Thanks to Lillian’s inane prattle to the building inspector, which caused him to find even more code violations to cite, Cassie now had a multitude of problems all needing to be repaired by the home closing date in just two weeks’ time. If the code violations weren’t fixed, the house sale couldn’t be completed, and she couldn’t take a well-deserved vacation and close on her cute new condo in Clear Lake.

Cassidy took another long sip. The building inspector hadn’t missed a thing. She had to do everything from painting to fixing a cracked concrete pad under a screened-in porch.

Closing her eyes, Cassidy again let the cool liquid slide down her throat. Perfect. She opened her eyes. At least this one thing was what she needed, which was good because right now the rest of her life was absolutely falling apart.

And, of course, Sara wasn’t on time, and that was after Cassidy, preparing for her former college roommate’s perpetual lateness, had arrived fifteen minutes past their designated meeting time of seven o’clock. There was nothing Cassidy hated more than sitting in a bar by herself.

Making the best of it, she took another long swallow and drummed her manicured fingernails on the bar as she surveyed the place Sara had picked out. “No one will know you there,” Sara had said after Cassidy had called her in the throes of desperation. Now after seeing the place for herself, Cassidy couldn’t agree more. As an image consultant, she’d helped some of Houston’s elite refine their images, and this wasn’t where anyone worth their salt would ever be caught dead.

At least it wasn’t smoky, although that was about all it had going for it. There was no question that the place was a dive. The wooden tables had seen better days, the chairs were vinyl, and the waitress sported a tattoo under her Harley-Davidson T-shirt. All that was missing was sawdust covering the floor and musicians behind chicken wire.

“You know, most people at least try to relax when they come into a bar.”

Cassidy turned toward the deep silken tone coming from the man seated to her right. Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Excuse me?”

“Perhaps, as long as you relax a little,” he said, his drawl rolling over her in waves. He grinned, and inwardly Cassidy groaned. Not another one.

Ever since she’d been a cheerleader in high school she’d attracted the wrong type of men like a refrigerator door attracted magnets. But at least this one was attractive. More than attractive.

From where he was sitting on the stool, he looked as if he would tower over her by at least a foot. His body was lean and wiry, and his shoulders were wide and broad. She liked that. Too bad his upper body was covered by a T-shirt that looked as if had been laundered too many times.

He twisted his beer in his hand, and Cassidy shivered despite herself. Maybe the air-conditioning inside the bar was set too high.

“Can I buy you another one?” Without waiting for her answer, he gestured to the bartender.

As he smiled again, Cassidy immediately gave him credit for having wide sensual lips, twinkling dimples and a roman nose that wasn’t too long. Too bad she wasn’t interested in men with dark-brown eyebrows and eyelashes, no matter how deep and sensual his greenish-blue eyes. Bedroom eyes. For that’s what they were, given the blood racing in her body. She made a show of studying her fingernails.

No, she told herself, as she tried to ignore the man’s magnetism, her fiancé Dan suited her just fine. At five-eight Dan only stood two inches taller than she. She could look Dan right in the eye. Plus he was always impeccably tailored, and his profession allowed him to keep his hands clean, unlike the man next to her, whose cuticles looked as if they’d recently seen some hard washing with Fast Orange.

Besides, she rationalized, she’d been dating Dan for more than two years now, and that was after they’d been friends forever. He’d been the boy next door of her childhood, and no one had been surprised when he’d proposed to her with a flawless diamond in the middle of the annual Morris New Year’s Eve party. Even better, Dan was easy, comfortable, not at all unsettling like the man seated next to her.

She hadn’t been this unsettled since—She brushed that thought aside. In college she’d learned that burning passion did just that—burn you and leave you singed.

Still, Cassidy had been raised in the spirit of Texan hospitality, and the man had just bought her a beer. She gave him a courteous smile and made her tone politely neutral. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He shrugged, as if it were a gesture he made all the time. “You look like you had a hard day.”

It had been hard, but Cassidy was loath to tell him that. She’d learned long ago not to engage men in bars with idle chitchat. It always gave them the wrong ideas. Besides, would the man really care about her problems?

Doubtful. Even Dan didn’t think the fact that Cassidy’s parents were divorcing after thirty-seven years of marriage was a big deal. After all, her well-to-do parents had been estranged for years. Her mother just hadn’t looked the other way this time.

“Cat got your tongue,” he observed. He signaled the bartender. “Bring me my regular, okay, Dee?”

“Sure, Blade,” she replied with a warm smile.

“My dinner,” he offered, seeing Cassidy’s look.

Cassidy nodded benignly and pinned her gaze to the door. Just where was Sara, anyway? She was never this late.

He ignored her nonverbal cue.

“Say, would you like something to eat? The food here is actually pretty good. I can personally recommend the strip steak. It’s the best around.”

She drew herself up and chilled her posture, sending down her nose the ice maiden look she’d perfected long ago. “No thanks,” she replied. Perhaps now he’d get the idea.

At her change in posture, Blade Frederick almost wanted to laugh at the irony of it. For once he hated being right. For once, why couldn’t he be wrong?

Nope.

Not this time. He’d pegged her from the moment she’d arrived in his bar. One of those upper-crust women, slumming in an environment not her own, for reasons she felt like keeping to herself. Perhaps she was having second thoughts about her perfect life. Maybe wedding-day jitters?

His beer tasted stale in his mouth as he studied her left hand. Judging by the Rock of Gibraltar diamond on her third finger, no wonder she didn’t want to be noticed, or bothered, either.

Although not noticing her was damn near impossible.

Her suit, especially its short skirt, showed off her figure perfectly. With her long blond hair she could rival a Barbie doll for perfection. Being raised around the fake stuff, he could tell natural color when he saw it, and she had it. He’d wager money on it, and nowadays that was something he had plenty of to spare.

Since she’d walked into his place, she’d judged and juried him into a neat little box, a box he’d long ago broken out of. He didn’t like her assumptions of who he was, but what the hell. When whoever she was waiting for finally arrived, she’d be gone. Just this once he might as well act the part she’d already assigned to him, a persona he’d long ago shed.

“You know, darlin’,” he drawled, “you really should eat something if you’re going to be slamming those beers down that fast.”

That got a rise out of her. He grinned. Yep, she was one of those high-and-mighty ones. She may have him pegged wrong, but he hadn’t made a mistake. He sure had her number.

“Excuse me?” Those golden eyebrows of hers arched again, and despite himself, Blade felt a bit of glee at getting a rise out of her.

He knew he shouldn’t delight in it, but after being looked down upon by the high and mighty of Scott Creek while he grew up, it was fun to toy with a woman of her class knowing that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with her. No matter what, he knew her type and her game, and never again would he let a woman out of her perfect world slum with his heart.

She continued to glare at him, and he found himself staring into her baby-blue eyes. Damn, she was pretty. But they always were.

God built them that way just to torment men. Blade shifted, trying to get that image out of his head and his now tightening jeans.

“Look, I didn’t come here to eat but to meet someone,” she said in a haughty tone that bordered on indignation. Blade bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from chuckling at her. She was too cute. “And since we do not know each other, and I’d like to keep it that way, please refrain from stating your opinion on my activities.”

The smile he’d been trying to restrain cracked open. “You almost sent the peanuts flying with your purse, honey. I was just concerned for Dee’s safety. She’s the best bartender around.”

“Thanks, Blade,” Dee called from where she was wiping up a residual beer ring.

Cassidy swung around toward him, her hosiery-clad legs connecting with his. She didn’t seem to notice, but he did. Immediately.

Her baby blues flashed fire. “You think I’m dangerous after two beers? Since you have no idea who I am or what I can do or how much I can drink, your opinion is best kept to yourself.”

Worrying about her drinking was now the last thing on his mind. His mind had headed south, and he wondered if she could feel the heat rising from his jean-clad thighs simply because of her touch. He suddenly hoped not. He hadn’t gotten this much of a rise from a woman in a long time, and despite himself, he wanted to prolong it.

“Most people value my opinion,” he drawled, giving her his best wink. If he’d worn his Resistol, he’d have tipped the cowboy hat’s brim to her.

She recoiled as if she’d seen a snake. “I am not most people.”

He could agree with her there. Actually, she was different from the others he’d met of her class. She had spunk, style. Perhaps his first impression of her had been wrong. He didn’t mind being wrong, not in this case.

A slow smile edged across his face. She’d said she wasn’t most people, meaning she didn’t value his opinion. He had the perfect reply. “Then that makes you one of the few that don’t know better.”

If she weren’t waiting for Sara, Cassidy would have shown him her beer up close and personal by dumping it in his lap. She bit her tongue from the barbaric reply that sprang to her lips, and instead replied through clenched teeth.

“I see your mother forgot to raise you with manners.”

He had to give her credit. She was fast on her feet. But so was he, and he was enjoying this challenge way too much. It had been a long time since he’d met a woman who could match wits and spar with him. “What I lack in manners, ma’am, I make up for in other areas.”

“Really.” Those areas were not something she wanted to think about, but unable to resist his bait, she exaggerated her Texan drawl to match his. “Too bad I’m so unimpressed with any of the areas I see.”

The electricity between them sizzled. His voice silky, he drawled, “Then perhaps you should investigate the areas you don’t see. I’m sure you’ll find something to your liking.”

Her legs pressed even more into his, and she deliberately allowed her gaze to rove over his body. “Nah. Those don’t interest me, either.”

He arched an eyebrow at her and laughed. He hadn’t seen this much spirit and spunk in a woman in a long time. He had to admit, it intrigued him. Better, she intrigued him. He had judged her too quickly, and now he wanted to peel off her layers in more ways than one.

Besides, he would remain in control. He was all grown-up and practiced in the art of womanly wiles now.

Cassidy bristled, annoyed at his obvious ease. Still she maintained her outward composure as she dug a little deeper. “What, a woman not being interested isn’t a reply you hear every day?”

“Can’t say that it is.” He signaled for another round of longnecks and his expression sobered. “Seriously, though, why don’t we make peace and then you can tell me what’s got you in such a foul mood.”

Cassidy blinked at him, her suspicion obvious at the sudden shift of conversation. Oh, what the hell. It could be mistake number four, or was she now on five? She’d lost count, and all she knew was that she needed to vent, and Sara sure wasn’t around.

Suddenly noticing that her legs were touching his, she moved herself a safe distance away. Her body immediately missed his touch, and Cassidy frowned. That wasn’t a feeling she should be having. She found her safe topic. “I had the house I’m selling inspected by the city today.”

He nodded his understanding. “I should have guessed. Hit you hard, did he?”

“Four pages worth of predications,” she replied, reaching for the bottle of beer the waitress deposited in front of her.

He whistled low. “Not good.”

“You’re telling me,” Cassidy replied, her comfort level with him escalating.

Finally, here was someone who actually understood. Dan had been too busy with some project to talk to her. Not even her real estate agent had been sympathetic, and she stood to make a huge commission from the deal. Blade’s roast beef sandwich arrived, and it did look good. Cassidy’s eyes glazed as she stared at it. Maybe she should eat something. “I thought you recommended the strip steak.”

“I do, but my usual is roast beef.” He dipped the French bread roll in the juice, and Cassidy’s mouth started watering as he raised the morsel to his lips.

He gestured with a French fry. “So you were saying, about the house?”

She blinked as the French fry disappeared. Darn her. She’d been staring at his lips! “Oh. Right. It’s all Lillian’s fault.”

“Lillian?” His dark-brown eyebrow shot up and Cassidy again noticed his eyes. Those bedroom blues had turned boardroom. He was actually interested in what she was saying. Danger signals went off in her head. Whoa, she thought. Time to stop drinking beer.

She reached for the plastic dish holding the remaining peanuts. She should at least eat something. “Lillian’s my mother-in-law. Well, she’s not my mother-in-law. Not yet. Not ever if I could help it. She means well, but…”