They were worlds apart, but the night brought them together…

“You’re beautiful, Katie.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do. I’ve always thought so. Since the first moment I saw you. But I know you can’t see me as someone on your level,” Finn said.

She laid her hand on his arm, the movement gentle and the touch uncharacteristically intimate. “Don’t say that. I’m not what you think I am. I want to be like everybody else, to get married and have children. I want what everyone else has….”

“You can have it.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is. Or it could be. It’s a beautiful night, you’re a beautiful woman and I’m asking.”

“Asking?”

“You to marry me.” Finn held his breath. “I want you to be my wife….”

Dear Reader,

Welcome to another month of wonderful books from Harlequin American Romance! We’ve rounded up the best stories by your favorite authors, with the hope that you will enjoy reading them as much as we enjoy bringing them to you.

Kick-start a relaxing weekend with the continuation of our fabulous miniseries, THE DADDY CLUB. The hero of Mindy Neff’s A Pregnancy and a Proposal is one romantic daddy who knows how to sweep a woman off her feet!

Beloved historical author Millie Criswell makes her contemporary romance debut with The Wedding Planner. We are thrilled to bring you this compelling story of a wealthy bachelor out to find himself a bride…with a little help from the wedding consultant who wishes she were his only choice!

We’ve also got the best surprises and secrets. Bailey Dixon has a double surprise for Michael Wade in Tina Leonard’s delightful new Western, Cowboy Be Mine. And in Bonnie K. Winn’s The Mommy Makeover, a dedicated career woman is suddenly longing for marriage—what is her handsome groom’s secret?

With best wishes for happy reading from Harlequin American Romance…

Melissa Jeglinski

Associate Senior Editor

The Mommy Makeover

Bonnie K. Winn

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A hopeless romantic, Bonnie K. Winn naturally turned to romance writing. This seasoned author of historical and contemporary romance has won numerous awards, including having been voted one of the Top Ten Romance Authors in America, according to Affaire de Coeur.

Living in the foothills of the Rockies gives Bonnie plenty of inspiration and a touch of whimsy, as well. She shares her life with her husband, son and spunky Westie terrier.

Bonnie welcomes mail from her readers. You can write to her c/o Harlequin Books, 300 E. 42nd St., New York, NY 10017.

Books by Bonnie K. Winn

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

624—THE NEWLYWED GAME

646—WHEN A MAN LOVES A WOMAN

680—THE DADDY FACTOR

720—HIS-AND-HERS FAMILY

775—THE ACCIDENTAL MRS. MACKENZIE

812—THE MOMMY MAKEOVER

Contents

Prologue

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

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Epilogue

Prologue

The incomparable Houston skyline dazzled beneath the mammoth windows of the sixtieth-floor office. Resembling glitzy, gift-wrapped packages, the tall glass skyscrapers mingled with older, more stately stone buildings. Like the city itself, it was a courtship of old and new. But Katelyn Amhurst had little time to dwell on the dynamic view, even less to consider courtships.

She glanced skeptically at her longtime assistant, Daniel. They had gone beyond “boss” and “employee” years earlier. Daniel saw himself as a cross between mother confessor and drill sergeant. While Katelyn viewed him with tolerant affection, she often wished he would ease up on his compulsive need for control. “I want to stop smoking,” she told him, “but—”

“I thought you wanted to beat this thing,” Daniel interrupted persuasively, flipping back his precision-cut blond hair. It was his one vanity. Katelyn knew Daniel was currently pursuing a cute brunette in accounting. No doubt the extra grooming was for her benefit.

Katelyn concealed a grin. She wished someone would keep his attention so he would quit harping about her love live. Or rather lack of it. “I don’t know, Daniel. Subliminal tapes? Isn’t that a little simplistic?”

Offended indignation gripped his thin features. “When have you ever known me to be simple?”

“Point taken. Not that I haven’t hoped…”

He took a deep breath as a long-suffering expression descended on his face. “The tape will do wonders for you. In fact, I’d say it’ll turn your life around.”

“It’s a subliminal tape, not a brain transplant,” she replied, still not reaching for the cassette.

Daniel anticipated her next request and handed her the day planner, which had been buried beneath a foot-high stack of folders. “Or a personality transplant,” he muttered beneath his breath.

“What? Oh, thanks. I was looking for that.”

He sighed quietly. “I know.”

She flipped open to the mind-boggling schedule of meetings, appointments and other commitments. “I have the Franklin dinner tonight. Did you hire a new limo service?”

“Yesterday,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Now, are you going to let a pack of cigarettes control you, or do you want the tape?”

Katelyn frowned. She’d mapped out her life with the precision of a Rand McNally atlas. From her Ivy League education and brilliant advertising career to her equally well-thought-out decision to skip both marriage and children. Despite Daniel’s efforts to convince her otherwise, she knew that latter decision was wise. She had everything in her life under total control. Except the one habit she couldn’t quite kick—smoking. If Daniel’s tape might work…why not? Casually, she took the tape and tossed it on top of her desk.

Head bent, she missed the smirk on Daniel’s face. When she glanced up, she met guileless blue eyes. “You won’t regret this, Katelyn.” He slipped the tape into a Walkman. “Just be sure to listen to it.”

“I’m not in the habit of forgetting things,” she reminded him, putting the tape player in her purse. Her razor-sharp mind was legend—terrifying her underlings and impressing her superiors. But she and Daniel had worked together too long for him to be intimidated.

“No, but you are in the habit of resisting doing what you don’t want to do,” he retorted.

She squared her shoulders. “You make me sound like a willful child.”

“I’d rather think of you as an intelligent adult.”

“Ahem.” She studied his expression, searching for sarcasm. “Well, thanks. I think.”

“And, Katelyn?”

“Yes?”

“The tape only works if you really want it to.”

“I really, really want to quit smoking. Okay? Now, I’d better run. I’m meeting with Grayco in…” She glanced at her wristwatch and let out an uncharacteristic oath. “Fifteen minutes. I’ll take a cab, but tell the new driver to pick me up there after the meeting.”

“Your wish is my command,” Daniel replied as she gathered everything in an efficient flurry and headed to the door.

She glanced back. “I don’t know about that. Sometimes I’m not sure just who’s in charge.”

DANIEL MERELY smiled in reply, watching the whirlwind of contained energy she created as she issued orders, signed documents thrust at her and kept a constant path to the elevator.

His gaze focused on her purse, knowing it contained the tape. Not the one on smoking, as she supposed. No, the tape resting innocently in her purse was actually entitled, Embrace Your Femininity. Its subliminal message implanted suggestions designed to turn even the most ruthless barracuda into an old-fashioned, loving wife and mother. It also emphasized the rapidity of the biological countdown Katelyn claimed didn’t affect her. Everything about the tape was designed to push a woman straight into marriage and motherhood.

Something Daniel truly believed Katelyn needed.

She lived, breathed, and consumed her work.

Her work and nothing else.

Daniel knew that Katelyn limited her dating to only “safe” men—ones who were neither threatening nor potential mates. Katelyn had convinced herself she would be happy living alone. She reminded Daniel of his older sister, Cindy. She had believed a career would keep her warm at night as well. Now, Cindy was sad, bitter and inescapably alone.

Having come to regard Katelyn almost as a sister, Daniel didn’t want her to have the same fate.

Chapter One

Finn Malloy was hot. Figuratively and literally. Houston’s muggy heat was wilting his ever-so-proper chauffeur’s uniform and Katelyn Amhurst’s tardiness was doing the same to his normally even temperament.

The fact that she was a half hour late didn’t faze him—he knew executive meetings weren’t conducted by a stopwatch. Even an hour late didn’t bother him, but Katelyn had surpassed two hours and still wasn’t in sight. Finn wondered if she was even inside the damned building. Standing next to his car, he stared at the skyscraper and a mile-high wall of reflective glass stared back, giving no hint of who was inside.

Having not met the lady yet, Finn didn’t know if she was the type who habitually miscalculated the length of meetings, didn’t know how to manage time, or simply had no consideration for the poor slob of a driver waiting out in the heat.

He hoped she knew his clock started ticking when he pulled up in front of the building, not when she took a notion to step outside and into his limo. His operation might be a one-man show, but he maintained the same billing rates the big boys did.

Eventually he hoped to add at least one more car to his fleet. Fleet! Hah! Finn doubted anyone referred to a solitary limo as a fleet. But, every building started with a single piece of lumber or brick. And Malloy Enterprises was starting with this sole vehicle—one that the bank owned more of than he did, at the moment.

He glanced at his wristwatch and groaned. Two and a half hours. Maybe he should call her office and see if there’d been a change of plans. They had his cell-phone number, but maybe she was the type who suffered from the ten-broken-fingers syndrome, too.

Finn reached into his pocket for the phone, then paused. A woman was heading in his direction, but she couldn’t be the corporate crusher. No woman who moved like that could be a barracuda of the business world.

Her long hair, caught in a severe barrette, resembled a red flame in the sunshine, though he could see it was actually a combination of blond, gold, brown and red. High cheekbones competed with a sensual mouth for dominance in her arresting face. But his eyes really lingered on her lush figure, the long legs that stretched out endlessly, capped by ankle-breaking high heels.

No, it wasn’t in his stars to drive around a ripe morsel like that. With those long legs, she’d sashay right past his car…

“You, there. Look alive. I’m in a hurry.”

He stared blankly at her. Could it be?

Katelyn tapped her briefcase against the discreet limo logo on the car door. “You are the new driver, aren’t you?”

Finn straightened up, clearing his throat, hoping to clear the confusion as well. “Yes, ma’am. I’m Finn Malloy.”

Delicate brows arched upward as eyes of indeterminate color barely scanned him. She wore her indifference like the raw silk power suit that hugged her curves. “Fine. As I said, I’m in a hurry. I have to be at the River Oaks Country Club in less than an hour, but first we need to stop at my condo.”

She was in a hurry. That was rich. After he’d waited in the heat for more than two hours. “Guess your meeting ran overtime,” he commented, opening the door for her.

She grunted an unintelligible reply.

Seeing neither an explanation nor apology stirring, he closed her door and opened his own. He pulled away from the curb, the long car gliding effortlessly into the already crowded street.

Hearing a click, then smelling the distinctive aroma of a freshly lit cigarette, Finn frowned. “Ma’am. This is a no-smoking car.”

Watching in the mirror, he saw the displeasure cross her face before she inhaled deeply, then rolled down her window and stubbed out the cigarette.

He couldn’t make any exceptions. Too many passengers wouldn’t ride in a car that even faintly smelled of cigarette smoke. But she didn’t complain. He guessed she knew the tide had turned against smokers—especially since it was becoming more and more difficult to find places to smoke.

Glancing again in the rearview mirror he saw that she had donned a pair of seriously dark-rimmed glasses and was absorbed in a deep stack of papers. Apparently, she was up to her neck in work. Hell, he could cut her some slack. She probably hadn’t enjoyed being in a meeting that ran over by two hours any more than he’d enjoyed waiting for her. “So, you the one who got stuck doing homework?”

“Hmm?” she responded after a moment without looking at him, her head still bent downward.

“The papers. Are you the only one who had to stay after school?”

She finally glanced up, annoyance clouding her features. “School? You must be confused. I work for Ellington Advertising. I would have thought you’d know that from your dispatcher.”

“Right.” He’d have to remember that if he ever hired a dispatcher. Apparently, her job description didn’t include having a sense of humor.

He let the silence build in the car for a few minutes, but he wasn’t the sort of person who was comfortable with silence for long. “So, you got a big night planned at the country club?”

“Um,” she replied, once again not bothering to lift her head.

She was a real live one, he thought with disgust. She might look like a million bucks, but her conversation wasn’t worth two cents. Still, he persevered. “Gotta go home and change first, huh?”

“Ummm.”

At this rate he could talk himself to death.

“Guess you want to knock ’em dead.”

At this she did glance up. He met her frosty eyes in the rearview mirror. “I assure you it is not my intention to ‘knock ’em dead,’ nor is what I wear any of your concern.”

Frosty? Make that Antarctica frigid. He was surprised that ice hadn’t formed on the windows, despite the exterior heat. “No, ma’am.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously before she returned them to her work.

Finn reached over to fiddle with the radio knobs, considering choosing a hard-rock station he knew would blast her prim little behind right off the seat. Instead he inserted a richly melodic Rachmaninoff tape that seemed to suit anyone he’d ever driven. He preferred it to the icy silence.

He rapped his fingers against the wheel in time to the music as he navigated through the growing traffic. Choosing to forego the freeway, knowing it would be snarled during commuting hours, he swung off onto a little-known alternate route. Of course, the ice princess lived in the trendy Galleria area. He could have guessed that without the information provided by her assistant.

Accustomed to her rigid silence, he nearly jumped when she spoke. “Where are we?”

“Headed to your condo.”

“Via Guatemala?” she questioned, staring out at the unfamiliar neighborhood.

He laughed, even though he doubted she meant to be funny. “Not quite. This way we’ll miss most of the traffic. Don’t worry. I know this city better than most people know their lovers.”

There was a momentary silence and he guessed she wasn’t comfortable with his point of reference.

“Be that as it may, Mr….”

“Malloy,” he supplied. “Finn.”

“Mr. Malloy,” she continued, ignoring his first name. “I prefer to not be driven through hell’s half acre. Safety is just as important a consideration as traffic.”

“You said you have to be at the country club in an hour. If I took the freeway, we wouldn’t even be at your condo in an hour.”

“Mr. Malloy, are you deliberately trying to be difficult?”

He grinned into the mirror, meeting her eyes, which now looked to be a cloudy gray. “No, but I’ve been told it’s one of my natural talents.”

“I doubt I’d term that a talent.”

“There are enough yes-men in the world. Don’t you get a charge out of something different?”

“I don’t get a charge out of risking my life to travel home.”

“You’re not in any danger. Besides, I can protect you if we run into trouble.”

“I’m not impressed with muscles, Mr….”

“Malloy,” he supplied again. “Finn.”

And again she ignored his first name. “…Malloy. I’m impressed with efficiency.”

“And you don’t think a person can have both?”

“It hasn’t been my experience. Now, Mr. Malloy, I have work to do.”

“Hey, sorry lady.”

Meeting her gaze in the rearview mirror, he had the impression she was silently counting to ten. “My name is Ms. Amhurst. I trust you can remember that.”

“Probably every bit as well as you can remember mine,” he replied pleasantly, his grin taking the sting out of his well-placed barb.

She harrumphed in reply and turned her attention back to her work. And despite a few more tries at conversation on his part, she didn’t respond. It was as though she’d set her hearing to the off position. When he pulled up in front of her condo a short time later, she didn’t comment on the remarkably quick time he’d made, nor anything else for that matter. Instead, she moved those delicious-looking legs of hers inside at warp speed.

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll be fine outside in the heat. No, I don’t need anything cold to drink—even if I have been waiting hours for you, without so much as a sip of water. Don’t give it another thought.” His words rang in the empty parking lot and he glanced upward at the windows he guessed were hers. Firmly drawn blinds covered the glass—no surprise there. He hadn’t met such an uptight woman in…He doubted he’d ever met such an uptight woman.

Finn was tempted to step back into the car to turn on the air-conditioning but he had a hefty gasoline bill to keep an eye on. He figured she’d be quite a while, even though she said she needed to be at the country club soon. He just hoped she didn’t intend to set another lateness record.

Having parked in the shade, Finn opted for pulling his cap over his eyes as he leaned against the limo’s immaculate fender. Settled in for a lengthy wait, he was startled when he heard the tapping of high heels only fifteen minutes later, followed by her voice, already barking orders.

“Let’s get moving, Malloy,” she ordered, grinding out a cigarette beneath one shoe.

Apparently if she dropped the “Mister” she could remember his name, he thought wryly. “Yes, ma’am.”

He offered a mock salute, before turning to open the rear door. But then he took a look at her—a really good look. She’d swept all of that marvelous hair up, revealing a long, shapely neck. A diamond necklace winked from between ample cleavage and a thigh-high slit in her long form-hugging gown flashed those incredible legs. He guessed she dressed to impress and intimidate. Nose in the air or not, she was one hot package.

Until he looked into her eyes. No longer seeming to be gray, they were the same rich blue as her gown—and as frosty as the rest of her glacial expression.

Finn stared at her curiously. “Do you have on different colored contacts?”

She glared at him. “I don’t wear contacts.”

“Then your eyes really do change color?”

“Yes. Not that it’s any of your concern. You’re paid to drive, Malloy, not ogle.”

“Sorry about that, Ms. Amhurst. You’re not like most of the clients I drive,” he replied, stifling his instinctive response.

“Perhaps I’ll request a more experienced driver next time,” she told him as she slid inside. “One who’s accustomed to all types of clients.”

Neat trick if you can manage it, he thought, wondering what she’d think if she knew he was Malloy Enterprises’s solitary employee. He was owner, operator, driver, dispatcher, accountant and salesman. Which reminded him that he needed this contract—more than he needed to antagonize Ms. Amhurst. “I’m in the process of getting that experience, ma’am. I appreciate your patience.”

She harrumphed before settling back in the seat.

With uncharacteristic silence he headed toward the country club. He could almost hear her unspoken surprise. It was nearly as much fun keeping her in suspense as actually needling her. She could believe he was bowing to her wishes, and at the same time he wouldn’t be antagonizing the hand that fed him.

Within minutes, they pulled up to the gatehouse of the prestigious River Oaks Country Club where entry was permitted only to a select few. But his passenger’s impeccable credentials shot them past the guard in moments.

Finn stopped in front of the massive entryway and opened the passenger door. Despite her standoffish manner, he couldn’t help admiring Katelyn’s elegant appearance. Silhouetted against the soft-pink aged brick, she looked as though the ornate building had been designed strictly as a backdrop for her. Then she broke the spell.

“Be here precisely at twelve.”

“Or my limo will turn into a pumpkin?” he responded with a charming smile intended to break the ice.

She gave him a long-suffering look. “Don’t be late, Malloy.”

He tipped his hat and then saluted. “No, ma’am.”

She turned, obviously dismissing him and he watched her walk inside, enjoying the gentle sway of her hips, the occasional flash of long legs.

“Knock ’em dead, Cinderella,” he muttered. Glancing at his watch, he realized he had time to go home and try to get a grip on things. With several hours of paid time to do as he pleased, perhaps driving the ice princess wouldn’t be so bad after all.

KATELYN FELT the dull, throbbing beginnings of a headache. Resisting the urge to rub her temples until she was safely out of sight, she smiled heartily at the executives from the Franklin Group as they left the dining room.

While the dinner hadn’t run overly long, it had been an excruciating four hours. The subtle balance between business and flirtation made her feel like she’d walked a tightrope all night. She knew it was part of being a woman in a male dominated executive world, still she wished she could simply concentrate on business and restrict the annoying male/female thing to her personal life. Katelyn grimaced at her last thought. As though she had time for a personal life.

She escaped to the smoking room and enjoyed one leisurely cigarette, waiting until she was certain the men from the Franklin Group were gone.

Katelyn sighed. Time to find her irksome new driver. Why couldn’t he just be one of the many bland, quiet little men who’d usually been her drivers? No chatter, no double entendres to deal with. He’d learn, like previous ones, that she took no guff. He’d either straighten up or lose the firm’s contract. With that thought in mind, she stalked toward the limo. Luckily for him, he was there on time, early in fact since it was only eleven-forty-five. And, he was at attention. Perhaps he just made a bad first impression or had been gripped with nervous chatter.

“Malloy,” she greeted him, knowing she wasn’t ever likely to forget his name again. It should have been easy to remember. He wore his Irish heritage like an ID badge. Wavy, black hair, sapphire-blue eyes, and a tall, muscular physique. And if she was in the mood to notice, a rugged, handsome face as well. But she wasn’t in the mood. Had she thought he could have been nervous? No, that wasn’t his problem. He didn’t lack an iota in the confidence department.

“Ma’am,” he replied, without as much of his earlier cockiness.

Good, perhaps he’s learning, she thought as he opened the passenger door.

Katelyn slid inside, leaning her head back against the seat, grateful the long evening was nearly over. As Finn opened his door, she straightened up, not willing to have anyone witness her fatigue. It was a sign of weakness, something she couldn’t tolerate.

As her head became level, she met three curious pairs of eyes. Since their heads barely reached the top of the seat, she could only assume they were very small children.

“Malloy?”

“Uh, these are my kids.” He tapped the first one’s head. “This is Jenny—she’s five. And the matching monsters are the twins—Erin and Eric. They’re three.”

Katelyn’s eyes moved between him and the children. “But what are they doing here?”

“Ah. Another baby-sitter quit. Since it was the middle of the night, I couldn’t get another one on such short notice.”

Katelyn refused to disguise her impatience or distaste. “Your personal problems are not my concern. I expect you to remedy the situation immediately.” She snapped out the order with all the compassion of a drill sergeant.

“What do you suggest? That I toss them out on the sidewalk until I’ve driven you home?”

Three woeful faces stared at her and she resisted the urge to squirm. “Of course not. But you have until tomorrow to take care of—” she glanced at the children “—it. If not, expect your firm to lose our contract. There are plenty of chauffeuring firms. I don’t need…” She looked again at the winsome trio. “Complications. You read me?”

“Like the Marine handbook.”

While she wondered at his odd reply, he buckled the kids into seat belts. From her vantage point they literally disappeared from sight. Relief filled her along with a nostalgic tugging that had attacked her more often than she wanted to admit. Her friend, Stefanie, insisted that it was her biological clock.

But Katelyn refused to believe her. Even though in the few still, quiet moments she allowed herself, Katelyn wondered at her decision to forego marriage and children. Wondered what it would be like to have a little moppet of her own.

Then she would remember her mother—how she’d never had time for her. Career-driven, she had left Katelyn’s upbringing to nannies and housekeepers. It wasn’t a fate she was willing to inflict on another generation. So, she pushed aside the urges, ignored the ticking of her biological clock and concentrated on the satisfaction her career gave her. She knew she wasn’t cut out to be one of the stay-at-home mommies, content to drive a minivan, spend her days wiping running noses, and exist in her husband’s shadow. No, she was too smart for that.

One of the children started to whine at that moment and Katelyn was immediately grateful for her own generous share of common sense.

She saw Finn reach over to soothe the child, speaking in a gentle voice as he did. Soon the whimpers quieted, but Katelyn wondered when the next protest would erupt. Now fully alert, despite her fatiguing evening, she was too anxious to stay quiet.

“So, Malloy, why isn’t your wife home with the kids? Does she work evenings?”

There was a small moment of silence, then she heard him clear his throat. “I lost my wife when the twins were born.”

Katelyn felt an immediate sense of remorse for probing at such a painful subject. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”

“You couldn’t,” he replied shortly.

“Hmm, right.” Katelyn knew when she was in uncharted territory and retreated back into silence.

Finn apparently caught the message because he was quiet as well, driving them swiftly through the night. It didn’t take long to reach her condo. After she’d exited the limo, Katelyn glimpsed the children through Finn’s open door. Sleeping, they looked like little angels. But she suspected that was an illusion.

“I have a nine-o’clock meeting at the Republic Bank Building. Be here at eight sharp in the morning.”

Once again he tipped his hat. “Yes, ma’am.”

FINN WATCHED HER walk inside, but he was almost too tired to appreciate the view. He turned to the car just as Erin woke up crying. Her wails woke her twin brother and Jenny was only a few moments behind. He guessed by the time they got home and he managed to get them to sleep, half the night would be gone. And he’d have to be up early to find a baby-sitter for the day, not to mention a permanent one.

Eight o’clock sharp, huh? He might be there at eight, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to be sharp.

The drive home was just enough time for the children to deeply fall asleep. Finn tried not to waken them as he carried each one inside. The twins were the easiest. Although they fretted a bit, they settled back to sleep fairly quickly. Jenny, however, was more difficult.

“I had a dream, Daddy,” she muttered, clinging to him as he tried to put her to bed.

Patiently, he pushed the damp hair away from her forehead. “What did you dream about, sweetie?”

“I dreamed I called and called, but no one was there, Daddy.”

Pain clenched Finn’s heart. He agonized over the time he had to leave the children with sitters. No doubt it was stealing their sense of security. “I’m here now.”

Jenny had taken her mother’s death hard. Still little more than a baby herself, she had sobbed for her mother. In those first days, Jenny had cried herself to sleep each night in exhaustion. Finn had always picked her up to soothe her, but inevitably Jenny’s cries would waken the twins. Physically, it wasn’t possible to hold a toddler and two newborns at the same time. Despite a succession of housekeepers, there simply wasn’t enough time for the children. That was why Finn had started his limo service, in the hopes of spending more time with them. He stroked her soft, dark hair. “It’s okay, sweetie. Daddy’s here.”

She hiccuped a remaining half-cry. “I miss Mommy.”

Despite her young age, Jenny had clung to the memories of her mother. Finn had learned the hard way that a traumatic event such as death could remain even in a young child’s memory. Emotion clogged his throat. “I know, honey. I miss her, too.” Finn watched as Jenny settled down a bit, wishing fate hadn’t been so unkind to their family.

“Daddy, are we ever going to have a mommy again?”

This time the pain felt worse. Finn knew the children needed a mother. Housekeepers and babysitters were no substitute. And he couldn’t spend as much time with the children as they needed—he had to earn a living. But he was neither inclined nor eager to try the dating scene. And when was there time? As it was, he was running constantly to try and stay on top of things. Any woman who wandered into their chaotic household would no doubt leave shrieking.

He met Jenny’s questioning eyes. “What makes you ask about a mommy now?”

Jenny lifted small shoulders in a half-shrug. “Brianna’s mommy is real nice. She makes cookies in the oven, not from the store. And she knows which clothes Barbie wears and she knows how to fix Brianna’s hair into really pretty braids.”

Finn sighed. All the things he couldn’t do. “But I bet she can’t rebuild an engine.”

Jenny scrunched her face in girlish disdain. “Icky. Why would girls want to know that?”

Why indeed? “Maybe we could try that hair thing. Braids, eh?”

“Uh, huh. French fried braids.”

Finn drew his brows together. “Braids that look like French fries?”

“Daddy! They don’t look like French fries, they are French fried.”

Finn looked at her in puzzlement. What the heck were French fried braids? He wasn’t sure which one of them was confused, but he was fairly certain one of them was. “Tell you what, Jen. I’ll figure out how to make them, okay?”

“Okay,” she replied reluctantly. Then she lifted large expressive eyes, instant reminders of his late wife, Angela. “But it’s still not the same as having a mommy.”

Of course not. As hard as he tried, Finn could never replace her mother. There was one thing he could never overcome. He wasn’t a woman.

Exhausted, Finn hoped that Jenny would fall asleep soon. He would be lucky if he managed to grab even a few hours’ sleep before his early morning assignment. And he guessed his new boss would have little tolerance if he showed up late. She might look dynamite, but unfortunately she was as equally explosive.

Jenny curled her hand trustingly in his and Finn resigned himself to staying by her side. Perhaps Ms. Amhurst would wake up on the right side of the bed in the morning. She couldn’t be as tough as she appeared.

Chapter Two

Katelyn rechecked her watch, drummed her fingers over the wine-colored leather of her briefcase and then tapped her shoe impatiently. Five minutes after eight. Hadn’t she told that cocky driver to be there at precisely eight o’clock?

She took another drag on her cigarette as she looked out of the glass double doors of her lobby and saw Malloy’s limo pulling into the circle drive. Quickly ditching the cigarette, she pushed open the lobby doors and strode outside. Malloy leapt from the car, but she was faster, yanking open the rear door herself.

“You’re late,” she greeted him, slamming her briefcase on the seat beside her as she slid inside.

“Good morning,” Finn replied, wondering if the woman had replaced her Cheerios with ice cubes or, possibly, ground glass.

She merely glared in response.

Finn considered telling her it was nothing short of a miracle that he’d shown up at all, considering he’d had to find a baby-sitter, put out all his domestic fires, and then turn an hour drive through traffic to her condo into thirty-five minutes. And all of that had been accomplished on almost no sleep. But, he suspected she wouldn’t care. It was his job, after all, and his messy personal predicaments were none of her concern.

He pulled out of the driveway. “We’ll get there in plenty of time,” he assured her.

She grunted in reply and opened her briefcase.

Finn grasped the thermos in the seat beside him, then lifted it so that she could see. “Coffee?”

He could see she looked tempted.

“There are cups in the bar—creamer and sugar, too. Normally, the coffee’s back there, along with donuts and bagels, but I had a pretty full morning trying to line up a sitter. We can swing by Shipley’s Donuts or the bagel place—”

“Coffee’s fine,” she cut him off, taking the thermos. “In the future, don’t stock donuts or bagels. I prefer power drinks. Daniel can give you a supply. But for now, as I said, I don’t want to be late.”

“You won’t be,” he replied, determined to make it downtown in record time if he had to drive over the rooftops of the cars in his way.

“So you said. But we had a late start.”

God, she was a thorny woman. It was no wonder she was over thirty and single. He pitied the man who decided to get close to her.

Finn glanced into the rearview mirror and saw that she was deep into her work already. Then again, maybe she wouldn’t surface often enough from her briefcase to be a bother.

He might be old-fashioned, but he thought a woman should get at least equal joy from her home and family. He suspected the ice princess would be appalled at such a thought.

Still, he tried again to talk with her. “So, another big meeting this morning?”

“Ummm,” she replied, obviously not paying any attention to him.

“Will this one last as long as yesterday’s?”

“Ummm,” she repeated.

“Same old thing?” he asked patiently, already knowing her answer.

“Ummm,” she said, as though on automatic pilot.

“Just another boring day dancing naked on conference room tables, eh?”

“Ummm.”

He waited patiently for a few moments.

“What did you say?” she asked suspiciously, finally looking up from her work.

“I asked if this meeting might run long like yesterday’s.”

“Oh. I don’t know. It shouldn’t, but few creative meetings can be accurately predicted.”

“Everyone thinks their brainchild is best,” Finn surmised.

Katelyn glanced up in surprise. She hadn’t thought the man capable of such perceptiveness. “Precisely. And it’s difficult for the client to remember they’re paying us to be creative.”

“Probably because it’s hard for them to accept that their ideas aren’t any good,” Finn guessed. “Or to remember that’s why they need you. If they were creative geniuses they’d have their own ad agency, instead of hiring one.”

“Right again.” Katelyn frowned. She didn’t want to believe the man was intelligent—it went against her picture of him. Purposely she turned her attention back to her notes. This campaign was a killer. She didn’t need any distractions—like wondering if hunky limo drivers had brains.

Finn tried to stifle a yawn. Between the kids keeping him up late and then having to get up early, he was dead tired. Looking ahead into the traffic, he realized the line of cars in front of him had come to a dead stop. He hit the brakes hard and heard a distinct thud. Since he’d managed to avoid hitting the car in front of him and the car behind had stopped a safe distance away, it hadn’t come from outside. Which left his passenger.

Craning his neck around, Finn looked in the back but didn’t see her. Doubting she’d bailed out, he stared straight down—into Katelyn’s furious face. Crumpled into a heap, she was wedged on the floor between the seat and the bar.

“Where did you learn to drive? Beirut?” Katelyn asked as she pulled herself up and onto the seat.

“Didn’t you have your seat belt on?”

“Are you suggesting that your erratic driving is somehow my fault? Because my seat belt wasn’t fastened?”

“Of course not. But you should have it on.” Finn held up a hand to stave off her protests. “For your own safety. Sorry about the quick stop. I’m a little tired this morning. Guess my reflexes aren’t up to par.”

“Mr. Malloy, my firm hired you to drive. I suggest you get your reflexes back on line.” She palmed the goose egg forming on her forehead. “Or I’ll be forced to find another firm.”

Finn swallowed his automatic response and his jaw ticked with the effort to keep it still. Not trusting himself to speak, he clamped his lips tightly together as he shoved a tape into the player.

The truth was, he needed this contract desperately. This morning was a glaring example. As a single father, Finn relied on the flexibility of having his own business. He also needed a steady contract that would guarantee to cover the limo payment, insurance and costs. And most of those contracts went to the bigger firms. It was a miracle that he’d gotten the call from Ellington. He couldn’t blow the job because the ice princess was a pain. He supposed her orderly life didn’t have any messy complications. Certainly nothing as unpredictable as children.

As promised, Finn delivered her to the Republic Bank Building ahead of schedule—a full ten minutes early. But even though he pointedly glanced at his watch as she exited the car, she didn’t comment.

“Did Daniel give you today’s schedule?” she asked instead.

“He faxed it to me.”

“Then you know I have a steady stream of meetings all day.”

“Yes.”

“Fine. It’ll be a full day, then.”

“So it seems,” he replied, managing a reasonably charming smile.

She looked at him, searching for sarcastic undertones, then decided to let it go. Gripping her briefcase, she headed inside the building for meeting number one.

Finn watched her walk away, thinking she was true to form. He wasn’t any more significant to her than the dozens of strangers crowding the sidewalk. In fact, if the limo could operate on automatic pilot he doubted she would miss his presence.

Clamping on his hat, he set the alarm on his watch for two hours from now, then climbed inside the car. If he was going to do battle with the ice princess, he had to get some z’s.

STEFANIE LANGSTON paused in front of Daniel’s desk, perching her slim, elegant body on the one empty corner, languidly swinging her impressive legs. Daniel smiled in appreciation as he rapidly concluded his phone call.

“This must be my lucky day,” Daniel told her as he hung up the phone, his eyes resting on her beautiful face.

She smiled, raising her brows ever so slightly. “Of course, dear boy.”

Then they both grinned, accustomed to this banter.

“She in?” Stefanie asked, referring to Katelyn.

“Yep. And your timing’s exceptional. She should be off this conference call any minute now.”

Stefanie nodded, then her expression grew thoughtful. “That’s good.”

Daniel picked up on her changing mood. “Something wrong?”

Again she nodded. “You remember that talk we had a while back? About how Katelyn’s been all work and no play?”

Daniel nodded cautiously. Although he and Stefanie had an easy, friendly rapport, he didn’t want to confide his plan to her.

“Well, I think it’s getting worse. I asked her the other day if she’d met anyone interesting and she told me she’d stopped looking.” She met Daniel’s eyes. “And that can’t be good. In fact, I can’t remember the last time Katelyn was excited about someone she was dating.”

“True,” he agreed. “And she’s not acting much like herself anymore.”

“I read you, Daniel. She’s edgy, impatient, and I think she’s forgotten how to laugh.” Stefanie narrowed her eyes knowingly. “But I don’t have to tell you. She can’t be a lot of fun to work for these days.”

That much Daniel was willing to admit. “You’re right. I’m worried about her.”

“Me, too.” Stefanie pulled her perfectly arched brows together. “Frankly, I think she needs to meet someone new, someone she can’t dismiss. Someone who could turn into a significant other.”

Daniel looked at her in surprise. “You’re advocating marriage?”

“Okay, so I’m no Betty Crocker, but Katelyn’s not like me. I grew up with all the traditional trappings and I know it’s there if I choose that road—” She grinned wickedly in self-derision “—or not. But Katelyn thinks she’s not cut out for the serious stuff, and I disagree. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be reexamining her decision to remain married only to her career.”

Daniel hadn’t counted on an ally in Stefanie. “So you think she might need a push in the right direction?”

Her eyes lit up. “Precisely.” She adopted her best mock alluring expression. “I knew I liked you, Daniel.”

“It’s mutual. And who better to nudge her in the right direction than us?”

Stefanie grinned. “Exactly. We can be discreet, thoughtful…” she paused with a wicked grin. “And pushy.”

Katelyn’s office door swung open. “Hey, Stef. What’re you doing here?”

“I thought I’d kidnap you for lunch.”

Katelyn automatically glanced at her watch. “I wish I could, but I don’t have time for lunch today.”

“Maybe dinner then?”

Katelyn shook her head. “I’m booked tonight, too.”

“Hot date?”

Katelyn laughed cryptically. “Date? What’s that? Nope, this is strictly business.” As she spoke, Katelyn reached for the stack of messages on Daniel’s desk.

As she did, Stefanie exchanged a look with Daniel.

“Okay, I sense a brush-off when I hear it,” Stefanie replied.

“It’s not that, Stef, really. You know you’re my dearest friend and I’d love to spend an evening with you. Let me grab my planner and we’ll set up something. Maybe next week?”

“Sure.”

“Actually, I have about five minutes before the next meeting. Come into my office. There’s just enough time for a cup of coffee.”

Stefanie trailed behind Katelyn, turning slightly before entering the office. She caught Daniel’s gaze, cementing their alliance.

KATELYN RELAXED in the dark interior of the car, relieved that the last meeting of the day was finally over. The nagging heartburn that had been erupting since her five-o’clock meeting was now a full-fledged fire in her stomach. Digging in her purse for an antacid, she fervently wished for a cigarette. At that moment, her fingers came across the Walkman Daniel had given her.

Maybe the tape could really work. Lord knew she needed to drop this irksome habit. It was getting to be easier to sneak a marching band into most places than a cigarette. Even the car her firm paid for was off-limits. It was beyond annoying. Not to mention the fact that she had so far failed to control this one aspect of her life.

With that thought she put the headphones on. As with any subliminal tape, she really didn’t understand it, but she was so tired. And the beginning just seemed to drone on about the benefits of listening to subliminal tapes. Still, she found herself relaxing, her head nodding as she leaned back in the seat. Maybe if she just closed her eyes for a minute…

“The freeway’s closed, we’re going to have to take Memorial Drive,” Finn told her.

When she didn’t reply, he sat in silence for a few moments. But silence had never been his strong suit. “That okay with you, Ms. Amhurst?”

Still no reply.

“Hey. You alive back there?”

Stopping at a red light, he craned his head back and saw that she was fast asleep. Even in sleep, she was an enigma. Although signs of weariness creased her face, she was also incredibly alluring. Asleep, she possessed a quality not visible while awake—a touch of vulnerability. Finn wondered if it was a trick of lighting or his own imagination.

But then her lips formed a quiet sigh. Inexplicably, the sound moved him. It shouldn’t. Katelyn Amhurst was a rigid power freak. Still, the fleeting glimpse made him pause. How much of that was genuine? Was there another Katelyn beneath the corporate killer?

The car behind him honked. Pulling back from the thought, Finn accelerated. The movement caused the papers resting on the front seat to fall to the floor. He had picked them up from the back seat, intending to sort them. Katelyn had emptied her briefcase between meetings. He guessed some of the papers might be ones Katelyn needed, but they were mixed with bits of trash.

Stopping at the next light, he reached for the papers, his hand closing over a small piece of cardboard. He started to drop it on the seat when he noticed that it was the inner paper from a cassette tape. He scanned it quickly: “Embrace Your Femininity.” Startled, he glanced back at Katelyn. No wonder she looked a tad vulnerable. But that was no doubt temporary. As the light changed, he slipped the label into the glove compartment.

A few minutes later, as they arrived at her condo, Finn made enough noise to ensure that Katelyn woke up. When he opened her door, she looked groggy but together, even remembering to remove the headphones.

As she dropped the Walkman into her purse, Finn cleared his throat, wondering about the tape label he had just seen. “So, what are you listening to?”

“It’s supposed to help me stop smoking.”

Right. Finn cleared his throat, stemming his reaction. “And is it working?”

“This is the first time I’ve listened to it.”

That explains a lot. “Guess you have to listen to it over and over for it to really work.”

“I suppose so.”

“No better time than when you’re in the car.”

She struggled to contain a yawn. “Uh-huh. Seven-thirty tomorrow morning.” She eyed him balefully. “Not seven thirty-five.”

He saluted, not completely squelching his grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

Katelyn hefted her briefcase as she slung her purse strap over her shoulder, then turned toward her lobby door.

Finn watched her for a moment. “Good night.”

“’Night,” she muttered around a yawn.

He grinned despite her lukewarm reply. Whistling, he started up the car and turned onto the still busy street. He had thought this job was going to be a real pain. Suddenly, it looked very interesting.

Chapter Three

“Dammit, Malloy. You’re late again.”

“Six minutes, Ms. Amhurst. And I was caught in traffic.”

“I thought you knew your way around the traffic.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes heavenward. “There was a major accident, life-flight was involved. Short of hiring my own helicopter, I was stumped.”

“People blame everything on the city’s traffic,” she groused.

“You’ll have to admit it’s a definite factor living in Houston.”

“The only thing I have to admit is that I have a meeting I must be on time to.” She reached for one of her power drinks. “Malloy, the difference between a successful person and one who wishes he were, is the successful person would hire the helicopter.”

Finn pursed his lips, considered a variety of answers and settled for the most benign one he could manage. “I’ll have to remember that.”

She quirked her eyebrows and he noticed that today her eyes were greenish—reflecting the color of her tailored suit. He’d never met anyone before whose eyes changed color so dramatically. They could reflect her clothing, her background, or even the moods of the sky.

He drove rapidly toward the downtown skyline, determined to make sure she wasn’t late for her meeting. And he arrived with five minutes to spare. Once again she didn’t comment on the accomplishment.

Instead she handed him a sheet of paper. “Here are some changes in today’s schedule. And the Woodruff meeting is vital. If I don’t make that one, heads will roll, including mine…” Katelyn paused, making certain she had his attention. “And yours.”

He accepted the sheet and scanned the location of the Woodruff meeting, nearly groaning. It was going to be held in one of the new buildings that had popped up in the Intercontinental Airport area.

One of the unique aspects of Houston was the number of mini-downtown areas that had cropped up all over the huge expanse of the city, each with their own skyline and unique set of problems. This one’s problem was location. While a thriving, growing area, it was inescapably situated near the city’s northern airport—a traffic nightmare at best, an unnavigable stretch of car-covered concrete at worst.

Two major freeways headed toward this particular airport and both of them could clog in an instant, and stay clogged for hours. Especially at the time Katelyn’s meeting was scheduled—three o’clock. At that hour it would be a nightmare to drive toward the airport. The roads would be filled with a mass of commuters and airport-bound travelers.

If there was a snag they could be stuck in a gridlock for hours. Since it was a major portion of his job to monitor the traffic and make sure his limo didn’t get caught in any of those snags, he knew exactly whose head would really roll if they didn’t make the meeting.

When Finn delivered her to the lunch meeting, Katelyn reminded him again about the importance of the Woodruff meeting. “I’ll be through at two. That should give us an hour to get there. Enough time?”

“If the freeway gods are on our side,” he replied, fervently hoping they would be.

Finn opted for a sandwich in the car as he listened to his traffic-band radio. The first hour passed safely enough. He called one of his connections at a local radio station and got the latest scoop from the eye-in-the-sky helicopter report. Both freeways, northbound I-45 and I-59, were traveling at normal speeds.

“Kyle, this one’s important,” Finn told his friend. “If there’s a change, can you call me on the cell in time to form an alternate plan?”

“Man, other than taking to the airways, there’s not an alternate if anything happens to both freeways.”

Finn tried to relax. “But what are the chances of something happening on both freeways?”

“This is Houston, man. They could both get wiped out in a torrential flood. Terrorists could blow them up. A tornado could hit ’em both or—”

“Don’t cheer me up, Kyle. Just call if something happens.”

Finn hung up, wishing the bad feeling in his gut would go away. He upped the volume on his radio and listened. Five minutes later his feeling became reality. An ammonia tanker had overturned on I-45 and they were closing the entire freeway. As he listened, details spilled from the radio with sickening accuracy. The lethal gas had the potential to kill anyone in the area and even the surrounding neighborhoods were being evacuated.

Finn found himself crossing his fingers as he thought about the remaining freeway. Then he remembered his own words to Kyle. What were the chances of both freeways being closed?

At that moment his cell phone rang. Misgiving filled him as he answered. Kyle’s words completed the scenario. A petroleum tanker that had been routed off I-45 took a steep curve on I-59 and overturned. Because of the possible flammability, combined with the chemical mix of the ammonia spill, that freeway had been closed as well. And, Kyle confirmed, every arterial and side street was jammed to the hilt.

“Only two strikes, man, but I guess you’re still out,” Kyle sympathized.

Katelyn’s words replayed themselves in Finn’s thoughts. The successful person would hire the helicopter.

“Not quite, Kyle. I’ve got three strikes, remember.”

“And two freeways.”

“You’ve got connections with the helicopter companies, haven’t you?”

“Yeah. We use ’em for backup when our copter’s down.”

“Can you get me one in less than an hour?”

“That’s a tall order. With the freeway blocked, they’ll be swamped.”

“That’s why I need your connections, Kyle.”

Finn heard a long sigh. “You got it. I’ll call you back in ten.”

The phone clicked off and Finn hoped his friend could deliver.

The next ten minutes crawled by. When the phone rang, he grabbed it. Kyle didn’t keep him in suspense. “We got it.”

Finn breathed a sigh of relief, not doubting for a moment that Ms. Amhurst would indeed fire him if they failed to make the meeting. Too much was riding on this contract to let that happen. He took down the directions Kyle gave him and floored the car. He didn’t have long to reach the heliport and return.

LESS THAN AN HOUR later, Finn and the pilot from Armadillo Airlines touched down at the helipad atop the building Katelyn’s lunch meeting had been held in. The helicopter’s dispatcher had reached Katelyn at the meeting and told her to meet them on the helipad atop the building.

Finn spotted Katelyn before they landed, her distinctive hair shining in the sunlight, her tailored suit plastered against her body by the powerful draft of the copter blades.

She strode up to the helicopter as Finn climbed out. “Malloy, what the hell is this all about?”

Instead of answering, Finn lifted her into the helicopter, ignoring her protests. By the time he explained the entire situation, she would be late to her appointment and he valued his head. “You’ve got a meeting to make. And this is the only way you’re going to get there. Both the freeways are closed and the side streets aren’t moving. The successful person knows it when she sees a good thing.”

For once Katelyn didn’t seem to have a rapier-sharp retort.

Finn climbed in beside her and buckled in. Katelyn had a strange look on her face, but she was quiet as the pilot took off. It didn’t take long to cross the city. Beneath them, stacks of unmoving cars littered the freeways and jammed the roads as far as they could see.

If Finn hadn’t been convinced before that the helicopter was the only way to reach their destination, he was now. The pilot landed efficiently on the helipad atop the Woodruff Building and Finn climbed out. He waited for Katelyn to follow, but she didn’t move. Climbing back inside, he saw that she was still in her seat, her hands gripping the armrests.

The pilot glanced at her sympathetically. “Not everybody likes traveling by whirlybird.”

Finn hadn’t noticed before, but she was as white as parchment. And her hands were nearly bloodless as she gripped the armrests. “Ms. Amhurst.”

Nothing.

“Ms. Amhurst, we’re at the Woodruff Building.”

Silence.

“Katelyn?” He angled his face so that his eyes met hers. Now they were a dark blue-gray. And they were terrified.

“Katelyn, it’s okay. We’re on the ground.” He glanced back behind him. Actually they were on top of a thirty-story building and the rooftop wasn’t as generous as he would have liked.

She looked at him blankly.

Finn carefully pried her fingers from the armrest, then gently pulled her forward in the seat. “Katelyn, we’re going to step outside. You’ll be on level ground.”

She didn’t resist as he lifted her down and out of the helicopter. The pilot waited patiently as they slowly cleared the area. As they reached the door leading inside the building, Katelyn slumped. Finn grasped her elbow and led her through it.

The cool rush of the air-conditioning was a welcome relief and seemed to reach her as his voice hadn’t. Still, he led her to a bench near the window.

She hid her shaking hands beneath her briefcase. “I guess I should have mentioned that I’m not real comfortable riding in small aircraft—and I suppose now that includes helicopters.”

Not comfortable. That was one way to put it. Scared senseless was another. “Why don’t we see if they have some vending machines and get a cup of coffee?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, her face still pale.

“Well, I’m not. I’d like a cup of coffee. That was a pretty hair-raising ride.”

She glanced at her watch. “We are fifteen minutes early.”

Seeing that she looked relatively steady, Finn stood and punched the elevator button.

When it arrived, Katelyn joined him. As the doors slid closed, she looked at him. “It seems you’re a quick study, Malloy.”

“You did say the successful person would hire the helicopter.”

“I didn’t know you’d take that literally,” she muttered.

“Changing your stand on what defines the successful person?”

“No.” Katelyn admitted as she shuttered her expression. “And I won’t underestimate you again.”

His sudden smile took her by surprise. Impossibly white teeth, eyes as blue as the ocean depths, the rugged features…Combined, they were enough to take her breath away. Telling herself it was her fright from the helicopter ride that had robbed her breath, she shored up a returning smile.

“That looks real good on you,” he said, his eyes not leaving hers.

Flustered, she brushed at an invisible bit of lint on her sleeve. “What does?”

“The smile. Looks like it belongs there.”

Remarkably, she felt her cheeks warming. She felt embarrassed and glanced away. “You’ve seen me smile before.”

His lips twitched. “Oh?”

For a moment she was tempted to huffily freeze. Then the humor of the situation struck her. “It really is absurd, isn’t it? It was my brilliant idea to hire a helicopter.”

He nodded, his smile growing bigger. “I have to agree with you. Frankly, I would never have thought of hiring a helicopter on my own.”

Sheepishly she grinned. “When I put my foot in it, I do it big-time.”

His expression gentled. “Maybe that’s why you’re such a success.”

Uncharacteristically, she glanced down, pretending to study her shoes. “Is that how you see me?”

“You’re smart, talented and doing what you want. Isn’t that success?”

Katelyn lifted her gaze. “Lately I’ve been wondering about that. I decided a long time ago that I wasn’t cut out for marriage and kids but now…”

“Now?” Finn prompted.

She shrugged. “I’ve wondered if maybe I’m missing out by not having children. Sounds silly, doesn’t it?”

But he didn’t look amused. “I don’t think so. My kids are everything to me. As hard as it is being a single parent, I wouldn’t trade them for anything. I know I’m no corporate whiz, but my life’s richer than if I had Trump’s fortune.”

“You really mean that, don’t you?” she questioned, boggled by the concept, moved by his sincerity.

“With everything that’s in me. Children are our dreams, our future.”

The biological clock she’d fervently tried to ignore chimed insistently. “But we can fashion a different sort of future.”

“What kind of future would that be?” Finn asked. “Do you really care who takes your job when you retire? Is that the legacy you want to leave the world? Frankly, I doubt that anyone on their deathbed wishes they had spent more time at work.”

The words chilled her, but Katelyn recognized their truth. “Are you saying what I’ve done will mean nothing if I don’t have children?”

“Of course not. I am saying that love and family are enduring.”

“Perhaps not everyone is cut out to be a parent,” she said quietly, revealing one of her hidden fears.

“That’s true enough,” he admitted. “But if your intentions are good, love will get you over the rough spots.”

She considered this. “But what if you have no idea what kind of parent you’ll be?”

“If you’ve given it that much thought,” he replied softly. “I’d say you have the makings of a good mother.”

Unexpectedly, she felt warmed by his words. He probably didn’t know the Dow Jones from the S & P, but he had a wisdom all his own. And she liked the kindness she saw in his eyes. Over the years that quality had lessened in importance. It occurred to her that might have been unwise.

She realized Finn could be right. Success had many definitions. And she wasn’t entirely certain hers was the right one.

FINN LOOKED at the fallout on the front lawn of his house and groaned. A tricycle was perched in the shrubbery and an open umbrella was suspended in the crepe myrtle tree. A pot of begonias was tipped over, dirt and flowers spilling across the porch. The twins must have been especially inventive today. One three-year old was a handful. Two of them far exceeded a simple doubling of the equation. Together, Eric and Erin could climb, grab, push, and pull down most anything they chose. Worse though, two small minds invented some incredible feats. And from the evidence on the lawn, it looked like they had come up with a corker.

It was terribly quiet. He wondered if this latest exploit had pushed Mrs. Phillips over the edge. She was an older woman whose patience and energy were diminishing rapidly as she cared for three young, active children. But she had been blessedly dependable. And the steady stream of sitters that had preceded her had all flaked out in one fashion or other.

Mentally crossing his fingers, Finn pulled open the front door. It was equally quiet inside. Uneasily, he glanced around, not seeing Mrs. Phillips or the children. He called out, but no one answered.

Worried, he walked rapidly to the patio door and slid it open. But what he saw made him want to slam the door shut.

Mrs. Phillips was covered in white foam and the twins were both orange, from head to toe, as was their dog, Snuffles. Finn could smell paint thinner and soap. And he could see water rushing from the hose, drenching Jenny.

He walked closer. “Mrs. Phillips?”

She turned, her face darkening to an ugly red beneath the odd foam. “It’s about time you got here,” she snarled.

Oh, this was bad. Very bad. “What happened?”

Mrs. Phillips turned an accusing glare on the twins. “Those two…two…they painted each other and the dog with your industrial day-glow safety paint!”

“She said we could paint!” Erin defended, looking strangely like a glowing alien.

“With your paints!” Mrs. Phillips screeched. “With normal children’s watercolors. Who in the world would have thought they could climb up to the paint in the garage?”

“What is that goop all over you?” he asked, knowing there wasn’t a satisfactory answer to her question.

Balefully, Mrs. Phillips stared at Jenny. “This one decided to spray me with the fire extinguisher.”

“She said the house was on fire!” Jenny protested.

“I said you kids could get in trouble as fast as a house afire. And that’s when she turned on the water hose as well.” Mrs. Phillips gestured downward at her soaked shoes. The leather was obviously ruined. “As though I hadn’t already had enough water for today. The twins filled the bathtub without telling me and it ran over, flooding the bathroom. Your upstairs carpet will never be the same, not to mention my sanity!”

Finn swallowed his amusement. If the poor woman didn’t look so aggrieved, he would have pointed out the inherent humor in the situation. But, clearly, she wouldn’t be in the mood to hear it. He doubted he would be either if he had been covered in foam and water. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Phillips. I know this has been a bad day—”

“Bad day? Mr. Malloy a bad day was two weeks ago when the twins filled my tote bag with shampoo, after emptying it from the bottle. Or last week when they poured the cake batter in the toaster. Or even two days ago when they poured sugar on the couch and filled the aquarium with ketchup.”

“It made the water red!” Eric offered.

Mrs. Phillips glared at him.

“Of course I’ll replace your shoes and tote bag, Mrs. Phillips. And I’ll try not to be late again.”

“Doesn’t matter if you are,” she stated.

“It doesn’t?” he asked uneasily.

“Nope. Because I quit. I would have left hours ago, but I’m not the kind of person to abandon young children.” She took a deep, exasperated breath. “Even ones like this.”

Finn glanced between the sitter and his children, who didn’t look particularly remorseful. “Surely we could work something out. The kids like you and I’m sure they weren’t deliberately trying to provoke you.”

“If this wasn’t deliberate, I’d hate to be on the receiving end when they are. Nope, I felt sorry for you, being a widower and all, but enough’s enough. What these kids need is a mother. Someone who can keep them in line.”

Glumly, Finn resigned himself to the inevitable. They had lost yet another sitter, which meant he would have to scramble to find one for the next day. “If you’ll give the total of the damages to the agency, I’ll make sure you’re reimbursed.”

She swiped at the foam still coating her clothes, then tossed down the rag she had been using to try and clean the paint from the twins. “Mr. Malloy, you haven’t got that much money!” Stalking toward the house, she punctuated her exit with the squishing creaks of her waterlogged shoes.

He flinched when she slammed the patio door hard enough to rattle the glass. Then he turned his gaze on his children. A trio of angelic expressions greeted him. So Mrs. Phillips thought they needed a mother. That was hardly a surprise. It was a logical conclusion. But it wasn’t the kind of decision based on logic.

“Daddy, Miz Pipps was mad!” Jenny told him, reaching her arms toward him.

Disregarding her soggy state, he picked her up. “You guys have to take it easy on the sitters. I’m running out of willing ones.”

“You could just stay home with us,” Jenny concluded with childlike reasoning.

He pushed the wet hair from her eyes. “I wish it were that easy, sweetie.”

“Up!” Erin demanded, holding up paint-covered arms. Next to her, Snuffles wagged his orange tail, flicking the paint on Finn’s pants.

He sighed as he picked her up, knowing his clothing was already ruined. “Okay, my little alien.”

“We’re hungry,” Jenny added.

“Didn’t you have dinner?” Finn asked in dismay.

Jenny shook her head. “I don’t think Miz Pipps likes us anymore.”

That was an understatement. “It’s okay, sweetie. I’ll order a pizza. I wonder if they’ll deliver turpentine with it.”

“Turptine,” Eric repeated several times, enjoying the new word.

And a new baby-sitter, Finn added silently. He would have to find one by morning. Coupled with cleaning up the twins, that would mean another late night. Yet he couldn’t be late for Ms. Amhurst. Feeling like a wishbone being pulled apart, Finn wondered again how he was going to make it all work.

KATELYN RECHECKED her makeup in the hand mirror, then fiddled with the bow of her chiffon blouse. It had been an impulse buy the previous day. The frothy confection in the store’s window had caught her attention and, uncharacteristically, she’d popped inside and bought the blouse without even trying it on. Its soft lines weren’t her usual style, but something about the very feminine item appealed to her. Along with the flowered broomstick skirt she’d also purchased. All sorts of different things seemed to appeal to her lately. It probably had something to do with quitting smoking, she decided.

The delighted saleswoman had given her a generous sample of a floral scent she insisted suited her as well. And somehow that morning it had. Katelyn rechecked her hair, having left it long and loose in soft waves. Her briefcase rested on the limo seat, still unopened, but she couldn’t bring herself to dive in as usual. It was such a delightful day—in fact she’d been humming all morning.

The limo turned into the circular drive of the Allen Center buildings and she sighed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been tempted to play hooky. And now she could think of little else. But discipline had been ingrained since she was a child. She exited the car, fussing a bit with her unaccustomed skirt.

“You look real nice this morning,” Finn commented.

Katelyn couldn’t stop the soft smile that bloomed across her face. “Um…thank you.”

It was part of the subtle metamorphosis she seemed to be undergoing. She smiled more often, although she tried to quash the reaction.

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

“That’ll be all. My meeting should be done by eleven.”

HE WATCHED as, instead of striding briskly inside, Katelyn strolled slowly, stopping to admire a cart of cut flowers and speak with the vendor, purchasing a single daisy.

She turned, the light striking her face. For a moment Finn saw her strictly as a woman. For some inexplicable reason he was drawn to her in a way he hadn’t felt since his wife’s death. It wasn’t just chemistry. Sure, Katelyn Amhurst was a knockout. But he’d known other beautiful women. And he didn’t even know what it was about Katelyn. Her strength, combined with a scant touch of vulnerability, was compelling.

As he watched, the president of Katelyn’s firm fell into step beside her. Now, that man was in her league. Finn felt his own jaw tighten. It wouldn’t be wise to forget that Katelyn was in a league totally her own. One to which he didn’t stand a chance of gaining admittance.

FROWNING, Daniel flipped through his planner. He had allowed two weeks to pass since giving Katelyn the first tape. He had seen minor changes in her. But at the slow rate of progress she was making, Katelyn would be too old to have children by the time she wanted them.

The door to his office opened. “Hi, Daniel.” Mary, the brunette from accounting, was becoming more than just someone to date. Their relationship had evolved into an exclusive one.

He smiled, momentarily distracted. “I thought you were swamped with budget forecasts.”

She shrugged prettily. “I couldn’t concentrate on them. Had my mind on our date last night.” She glanced at his open planner. “Busy?”

“Not exactly.” Needing a woman’s viewpoint, Daniel had told Mary about the tape. Initially it had raised her feminine hackles until he had explained his reasoning. “I’m thinking about the plan with Katelyn—it’s taking a lot longer than I anticipated.”

Mary drew her brows together. “I don’t think the tapes are supposed to work overnight.”

Daniel’s expression was glum. “I’m afraid that as slow as it’s going, Katelyn will get tired of listening to the Stop Smoking tape before she has a chance to meet someone.”

“Hmm. Maybe you need to try a different tape,” she suggested.

“Different?” Daniel echoed.

“More intense—to the point. Perhaps one that advocates marriage.”

“She’s not dating anyone right now,” Daniel objected.

“But you said the tapes work slowly. Perhaps another one could get her thinking along the lines of marriage so that she’ll be open to meeting someone new.”

“Someone suitable,” Daniel agreed. “Katelyn makes a point of always dating men who aren’t any more interested in marriage than she is.”

“And maybe the tape could change that,” Mary suggested. “Normally I would feel obliged to defend my fellow woman, but lately I’ve been warming to the idea of commitment myself.”

Pleased, Daniel met her gaze. “You are, huh?”

She nodded. “And without the help of a tape.”

“Too bad Katelyn’s not as bright as you.” He closed the planner, pushing it aside. “Want to go shopping on your lunch hour?”

She smiled. “For tapes?”

Daniel grinned. “I have an ulterior motive.”

Mary tilted her head. “Which is?”

“Katelyn benefits with the tape…”

Mary dimpled prettily. “And?”

“And I get to spend time with you.”

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