“Isn’t ‘Mr. One of Florida’s Most Eligible Bachelors’ dating someone? Plus, from what I’ve heard of him over the years, we’re not exactly each other’s type.”

“He is something of a stuffed shirt.” Bitsy agreed. “Very conservative. Actually, even though I love him to no end, he’s sort of a stick-in-the-mud. But he’s rich, successful, doesn’t belch in public, so, of course, he’s dating someone. Claudia van Dierling. She’s horrid, and she wants to marry him. You can see the dollar signs dancing in her eyes every time she looks at him.”

“Well, I’m not interested in his money. With my teaching salary and the trust fund my grandparents set up, I live very comfortably. I can certainly support my own child.”

“Exactly, my dear independent friend. I’m glad you agree with me.”

“Whoa. I didn’t agree with you-”

“And the fact that you’re opposites-well, therein lies the beauty. You’re in no danger of going overboard, are you, ’cause he’s not your type-although I swear I don’t know how you have a type considering you haven’t had a serious relationship since Nick.”

“Relationships are tricky for someone with all-or-nothing tendencies. I gave Nick my all. When he left, it almost did me in.”

“Yeah, Nick wins the creep-of-the-decade award. But that’s just it. With Andrew, you don’t need a relationship. A simple agreement will do nicely.”

“One of those prenuptial things. He’d have to agree to give up the baby.”

Bitsy looked momentarily nonplussed. “I don’t know. He’s never wanted a wife, so I guess that means he never wanted a kid. Although, he’s really great with Juliana. I bet he’d make a great dad.”

It didn’t matter how great he was with Bitsy’s daughter, joint parenting was a no go. “Uh-uh. I won’t have my child caught up in some kind of joint custody. I was nine when my parents divorced. From then on Jackson and I were shuffled back and forth between our parents, and our stepparents clearly wishing we’d just go away.”

“Get Jackson, that legal-eagle brother of yours, to draw up the agreement. Make that one of your terms.”

“It’d be the term.” Kat checked her appearance in the visor mirror. She’d been fighting the hair battle against her curls for years, but West Palm Beach humidity always won. It claimed victory again today. “Actually, just thinking about the social obligations that would come with being his wife make me queasy.”

“Huh?”

Bitsy pulled into one of the reserved spots flanking the Winthrop, Fullford, and Winthrop, Attorneys-at-Law building, and they stepped out of the car.

“You know what I mean, Bits. We both grew up in families chock-full of lawyers-our fathers and brothers-and I just hate the awful cocktail parties and all the schmoozing you have to do to get ahead. In fact, I can’t believe I let you talk me into coming. I’ve managed to avoid these horrible events for six blessed years. Getting out of them was one of the high points of Nick leaving.”

“It’s a great opportunity to check out Andrew without any pressure. Yes, the social stuff is a pain in the butt. Is it enough that you’re willing to give up the idea of having a baby? Because, face it honey, you’ve exhausted every other possibility.”

Kat paused before the double doors of the building and recalled the options she’d considered since deciding to have a baby by herself-almost two years ago. Sperm bank-too many loose ends and she was afraid she’d lose her job. Adoption-waiting lists and one close, emotionally wrenching call. A chance encounter-too risky medically and that pesky school board. Finding Mr. Right-not likely. Did she really want to hit thirty-five in a few years and find herself still in the same boat?

A temporary marriage with a great genetic contribution and no strings attached… Bitsy was right. Two years and counting and no closer to her own little crumb snatcher. Desperation lent her resolve. She could do this. They’d reach a nice civil agreement. A neat and tidy prenuptial-he’d give up rights to the baby and she wouldn’t touch his money. She squared her shoulders and opened the door. “I guess this doesn’t have to become one of my excessive disasters. I just bought a dozen behavior-modification tapes geared toward people with my all-or-nothing tendencies.”

“A dozen?” Bitsy sighed and hustled her into a waiting elevator.

“I obviously need them. I don’t consider a dozen excess. It’s insurance.”

Bitsy read her wavering stance. “Listen, you’ve only heard about Andrew through me. Go ahead and check him out today. You can present a plan to him later. This is the last week of school and you’ve got a nice break before summer school. The timing is right, girl! Everything’s falling into place. Go with the flow.”

The elevator dinged open and they entered the hall.

“Well…”

“This will work out great. Trust me…” Bitsy opened a door to reveal a well-dressed milling crowd.

Kat’s glance flitted about the room. “Where’s Juliana?”

“Eddie took her for an ice-cream sundae. A little father-daughter time together. They should be here soon.”

Kat edged back toward the door. “I’ll just wait out here for them.”

Bitsy hauled her back. “Nonsense. That’s not why you’re here. There’s the reason you’re here-my brother. Your next husband. The father of your child.”

Kat followed the direction of Bitsy’s finger. One look shattered her resolve. “You want me to marry him? The one right there? I don’t think so.” She shook her head for added emphasis.

“Aw, come on, Kat. He can’t help the way he looks. Anyway, looks aren’t everything. He’s really smart. He’s got a great brain.” Bitsy wheedled.

“I don’t suppose it’s his fault he’s drop-dead gorgeous…” Lust had her tingling in places that barely remembered how to tingle.

“Hey, you don’t want to have an ugly baby, do you?”

“I just want to have a healthy baby.” Kat forced herself to think logically. Good genes were good genes. Would anyone in their right mind not want to seriously work on baby-making with the black-haired hunk? Steady. She needed to ground herself. “He does look stuffy and uptight. But I suppose that hair and those chiseled features softened by baby fat would be striking.”

“You bet your sweet patoot it would.”

Kat’s attention shifted to the blond woman on his arm. “Claudine, I presume.”

Bitsy sniffed with a nasty look on her face. “Close enough. Claudia. The witch.”

Kat eyed the woman-tall, thin, polished, sophisticated. More than enough reasons to dislike her on general principle. But certainly not enough to think about yanking a marriage prospect out from under her. Confused, Kat wished for a sign. Could she really pursue Bitsy’s crazy scheme or should she return to waiting for chance to drop Mr. Right into her life.

She watched as a young man sporting a red power tie approached Andrew. With an apologetic look at Claudia, Andrew followed the young man out another door.

Kat grabbed Bitsy’s arm. “Come on. I want to meet her.”

Bitsy eyed her as they skirted the various groups. “Good idea.”

They were just about to make their way around a towering areca palm to the blonde beauty when they saw Juliana run up to Claudia. Juliana’s reedy, childish contralto easily carried past the palm that hid them. “Hey, Ms. Vander. My dad and I just got here. Where’s my Uncle Andrew?”

“It’s van Dierling. Shoo, you pesky brat. He’s busy.” Through the palm leaves, they could see a smile pasted on Claudia’s face that was deceptively pleasant. Her tone was saccharine sweet.

“You’re mean and I’m gonna tell.”

“If you were a smart little girl, you’d watch your mouth and your manners. I’m going to be your new aunt very soon.”

Bitsy made a strangling noise. “I told you she was a witch. Excuse me while I go defend my child.”

Juliana held a special place in Kat’s heart. The poor darling could kiss any relationship with her uncle goodbye if he married Claudia. And he’d probably never even entertain a clue as to what was going on. Men could be so stupid.

She’d wanted a sign. By golly she had one.

She’d save Juliana and the Winthrop family from the evil Claudine.

She’d marry Andrew Winthrop.

And finally, at long last, she’d have her baby.

1

ANDREW MARTIN WINTHROP III in the buff was a sight to behold. Bitsy had not told all. Of course, she probably hadn’t seen his spectacular, splendid bare butt in the past thirty years or so.

Kat lowered the binoculars unsteadily and popped a handful of M &M’s into her mouth. Get Andrew Winthrop III out of that starched shirt and those immaculately creased trousers, and there was more to him than she’d supposed.

She washed down the M &M’s with the worst coffee imaginable. She sighed. What she wouldn’t give for a good cup of joe right now.

Kat squinted through the binoculars again, not that she was trying to be voyeuristic and catch another glimpse of Andrew III’s well-formed buns. This was research. She could have hired a P.I. to investigate him, but since he topped her marriage list-okay, he was her marriage list-she’d decided to check him out herself. If he happened to move around sans clothes, she’d consider it a bonus. She scanned the bedroom, but Andrew had disappeared.

She settled in behind the oleander at the edge of his property and reached for the one-pound bag of chocolate candies beside her on the ground, scanning the house once more. Still no sign of Mr. “Stiff as His Shirt Collar” Winthrop III. His elegant yet sedate Mercedes sat in front of the cottage. He’d probably be starched and buttoned-down before he ventured out for the Sunday paper.

Bitsy had suggested she introduce herself while he was at his beach house for the weekend. She theorized he’d be more relaxed here than at his in-town home or office. If she only knew!