The paparazzi swarmed outside, their flashbulbs and strobe lights turning the evening sky to daylight. Television interviewers were lined up along the red carpet that swept the entire length of the long carriage drive entrance. Heat lamps were posted at intervals to keep the arriving guests from feeling too much of the chilly night air.

From where he was standing, Adam could observe Trish with her walkie-talkie and her clipboard, coordinating limousine arrivals and valet service. She wore her jeans and boots and a down jacket as she worked the lines, running from one end to the other. She would stop to give an encouraging word to one of his staff, then laugh at a photographer’s joke. She had a knack for making them all feel as though she were one of them while still giving orders and keeping everything on a tight schedule. She radiated confidence and warmth and it was obvious that everyone working the event had fallen in love with her. Everyone.

Hell. Scowling, he ran a finger in between his collar and his neck. Why was it suddenly so damn hot?

Sally strolled up to him and put her arm around his waist. “Darling, everything is simply fabulous. The hotel is magnificent.”

“Thanks,” he said, giving her shoulders a quick squeeze. “You look beautiful.”

His mother wore a high-collared white satin tuxedo shirt with a black taffeta skirt and cummerbund-not that Adam would know taffeta if it walked up and bit him, but she’d described the dress in excruciating detail on the phone earlier in the week. Her hair was all scooped up in some kind of fancy French braided style, no doubt to show off her shiny, dangly earrings.

Sally beamed. “Thank you. Isn’t it about time you got things started?”

“Twenty more minutes,” Adam murmured, checking his wristwatch to be sure. He waved to catch the valet captain’s eye, then tapped his watch and pointed to Trish. They’d worked out the signal ahead of time. Sure enough, within seconds, Trish came running.

“I’ll make it on time,” she said, bounding up the stairway and heading straight for the hotel door. On impulse, Adam stepped into her path and grabbed her in his arms. He swung her around, then kissed her and set her back down, breathless.

“You’ve got fifteen minutes to dress and get back down here,” he said.

“You’re not helping,” she said, smacking his arm. Then her eyes widened. “Is this your mother?”

“Yes,” he said, turning. “Mom, this is Trish.”

“We’ve spoken on the phone,” Sally said, shaking Trish’s hand. “It’s so nice to meet you in person.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Duke.”

“Oh, call me Sally, dear. Everybody does.”

“Thank you,” Trish said, smiling. “You look so beautiful.”

“Oh, you’re a sweet girl,” Sally said, patting her hair.

“Yes, she is,” Adam said. “Now get going.” He kissed Trish again and she laughed as he patted her behind to push her along.

“So, that’s Trish,” his mother said a moment later.

“Yeah,” he said, baffled and annoyed over the sudden and very public display of affection he’d just shown the world.

“She’s absolutely perfect,” she murmured.

His mother’s tone had him eyeing her suspiciously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She held up both hands innocently. “I’m just saying she’s a perfectly lovely girl. And Marjorie tells me she’s a hard worker.”

His eyes narrowed. “What else does Marjorie tell you?”

“Oh, Adam,” she said, with a soft chuckle. “If you only knew.”

“Mother.”

“Don’t frown dear, you’ll scare the guests.”

He shook his head, then he held out his arm for her to hold. “How about if I escort you inside?”

“I’d be delighted.”

With his mother by his side playing hostess, Adam worked the grand ballroom for the next twenty minutes. His guests raved about the rustically elegant resort and its beautifully designed ballroom and conference space. They gushed over the guest baskets placed in every room. Trish and the guest-services coordinator had selected the items to be included in the baskets and Adam had approved. Champagne, fresh fruit, cheeses and snacks, free spa treatments along with items from the hotel’s exclusive line of hair and skin-care products, and a plush Fantasy Mountain bathrobe and towel.

Adam thought about his mother’s earlier reaction to Trish. His suspicions were raised anew and he realized he would have to put an end to his affair with Trish as soon as he and Trish got back to town. The gala would be over and his life could get back to normal. He supposed he would miss her once in a while, especially around the office, but that’s the way it had to be.

Having made his decision, he studiously ignored the tightening he felt in his chest.

As he greeted the mayor of a small town north of Dunsmuir Bay, he noticed the crowd begin to murmur.

“Oh,” his mother whispered. “She’s stunning.”

He turned but couldn’t say a word as he stared across the room. Trish wore a strapless black gown that molded to her breasts and fell in a graceful column to the floor, yet managed to show off every curve of her body. It was classic and elegant. And outrageously sexy. Her hair tumbled loosely around her shoulders and a thin row of diamonds draped her neck, bringing Adam’s gaze right back to her stunning breasts. She looked like a goddess emerging from the sea.

She’d never looked more beautiful, if that was possible. It was Brandon who greeted her at the door, introducing himself to her and escorting her into the room. He snagged her a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and stayed by her side and talked.

Watching her sip champagne, Adam’s insides tightened at the memory of their two days of pleasurable solitude ensconced in the hotel suite. They’d explored each other’s bodies all day and throughout the night, finally falling into an exhausted sleep as dawn broke over the mountain.

Then waking up to start all over again.

The memory of her legs wrapped around him, her body arching into him, her sobs of need, caused a physical hunger in his gut and his jaw clenched as he forced himself to ignore it.

Adam checked his watch again. He had to determine exactly how long he’d have to stay at the party schmoozing with his guests before he could take Trish back to their suite. He could barely wait to strip that incredible dress off her.

“At the risk of repeating myself, she’s very lovely,” Sally said amiably, tucking her arm through his.

He looked at her squarely. “She’s also a great assistant-smart, loyal, highly organized and very talented.” And gorgeous in bed. Which is exactly where he wanted her. Now.

Sally touched his arm maternally. “I’m glad you have good people working for you, sweetie.”

Adam exhaled slowly. “Me, too.”

The orchestra began to play a big band favorite and Adam watched Brandon lead Trish out onto the dance floor.

“Crap,” Adam said. Why was his brother holding her so close? He was going to cut off her breathing.

Sally chuckled. “Why don’t you dance with me instead of standing here scowling? Your guests are going to think something’s wrong with the plumbing.”

“Good idea,” he muttered, and led his mother onto the dance floor.

After a few minutes of gliding around, Sally smiled up at him. “You dance beautifully, Adam.”

One of his eyebrows shot up. “I’d better. I risked my life to learn the damn fox trot.”

Sally laughed. To this day, Adam couldn’t believe she’d forced all three boys to attend cotillion when they were barely thirteen years old. Once word got out at school, the Duke brothers became targets and the fights began. The boys gave as good as they got, but often came home from school with black eyes and bloodied knuckles. Rather than cancel the dance lessons, Sally briskly enrolled them in marital arts and boxing classes, as well.

Chuckling, Adam recalled that she’d also forced them to learn how to cook and do their own laundry. She’d always said she was determined to raise well-rounded men who would make good husbands.

Adam was happy to be well-rounded, but that didn’t mean he intended to be anyone’s good husband.

“Every woman loves a man who can dance,” Sally said suggestively, her eyes glittering with humor as she glanced across the ballroom.

Adam couldn’t help but follow the direction of her gaze. His stomach tensed all over again as he spotted Trish, laughing and flirting and all wrapped up in the arms of his own brother.


The song ended. Trish and Brandon Duke applauded politely, then walked off the floor together.

“It was nice to meet you, Brandon,” she said, and was surprised to realize she meant it. She’d been concerned when she found out that the outgoing man who’d met her at the door was Adam’s brother. But as it turned out, he was a big friendly bear of a guy and a surprisingly good dancer. A former football player, he was several inches taller and a bit stockier than his brother. A very good-looking man, though not nearly as handsome as Adam.

“Great to meet you, too,” Brandon said. “Especially after hearing so much about you.”

“Really?” she said carefully. “Such as?”

“All good things,” he assured her.

“Now I’m truly worried.”

“Don’t be,” he said, laughing. “Listen, I’m going to try those Buffalo wings on the pier as soon as I can get there. Thanks for the recommendation.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. “I’ve never been to Buffalo but I think they’re pretty close to the real thing.”

“That’s what I’ve been looking for,” he said. “Whenever my team played the Buffalo Bills, we’d always go to the Anchor Bar downtown to get our fix. I haven’t been able to find the real thing since then.”

“I hope you’ll let me know what you think,” she said.

As Brandon continued talking, Trish casually gazed around the crowded ballroom and ultimately homed in on Adam. A rush of warm longing rose from her toes all the way up to her ears as she realized he’d been watching her intently.