His eyes narrowed as he conjured up a picture of Mom and Marjorie meeting, scheming, conniving to pull it off.

Suddenly, it didn’t seem at all far-fetched.

Abruptly, he remembered Trish’s own words, the ones he’d overheard her say to someone on the phone the other day.

Trust me, he won’t know what hit him.

Had Trish been talking to his mother? Or Marjorie, perhaps? It was obvious from her words that something shady was going on.

Did he really need more proof than that?

No. He had all the ammunition he needed.

He had to hand it to them, he admitted with a short laugh. Nice try. Trish was definitely attractive, and while he might enjoy the seduction part, there was no way in hell he’d fall for the whole love-and-marriage package.

He stared out the window at the waves crashing against the cliffs south of Dunsmuir Bay. He and his brothers had bought this land and built their company in this spot specifically to take advantage of the view. Despite the advantages Sally Duke had given them, they’d worked their asses off to get their company to the place it was today. He wouldn’t allow some gold digger to get her greedy paws on half of all that.

Raking a frustrated hand through his hair, he turned from the window and grabbed a bottle of water from the sideboard. It just figured that Mom would pick out someone smart and nurturing like Trish to be his mate. Yes, she was beautiful, too, but her beauty was fresh and healthy, nothing like the calculated, sophisticated, worldly women he’d always dated in the past. He knew his mother disapproved of those types of women, but they filled the bill as far as Adam was concerned. Women who wanted no strings, no obligations, just healthy, raucous sex when the spirit moved them. Nothing wrong with that.

He suddenly recalled his mother’s face as he’d introduced her to one of those women at a charity ball they’d both attended a few weeks earlier. At the time, he thought he’d read disappointment in the way Mom stared at him, the way her lips were pursed and her jaw was set. But it wasn’t disappointment at all, Adam realized now. It was determination. He’d seen a new sense of purpose in his mother’s eyes that night.

Determination to marry him off at the earliest possible date.

Adam rubbed his jaw, unsure of his next move. It was beginning to sink in, what Brandon had been dealing with since he’d temporarily moved back in with their mother. Sally Duke was a force of nature and it would be dangerous to underestimate her.

The more Adam pondered the odds that Trish had been planted here by his mother and Marjorie, the more plausible the whole thing seemed. The only question that remained was whether Trish was aware of their scheme. If she was in on the plan, and landing a rich husband like Adam was the only reason she was working here, then that made her a gold digger-plain and simple. An attractive gold digger, to be sure. But that meant she was fair game and ripe for outmaneuvering.

Pacing the length of his office and back, Adam mused over the possibilities. Trish James was perfect, absolutely perfect. Not for him, certainly, but for Mom’s imaginary view of what a prospective wife for her son should be like.

And the more he thought about it, the more he had to admit how impressed he was. His mother had almost pulled one over on him.

“Well played, Mom,” Adam murmured with a calculated grin. “And don’t worry, there’ll be a seduction, all right.”

He’d seduce the lovely gold digger, enjoy a few nights of hot, delicious sex, then send her on her way.

“But not right away,” he murmured as the plan took shape in his mind. After all, he had Fantasy Mountain to consider, and Trish was doing a great job organizing everything that would make the opening gala an event that would be talked about for years to come. Once it was over, though, he would kiss Trish James goodbye. Literally. He’d send the gold digger packing while also sending a clear message to his meddling mother that he would not tolerate her interfering in his life again.

With any luck, that would put an end to this ridiculous matchmaking scheme once and for all.

Four

“So it’s as horrible as you thought it would be?”

“No, no,” Trish said, keeping her voice perky. “It’s going great.”

It was Friday night, the end of an exhausting week. Trish tried to relax with a glass of chilled chardonnay while her best friend Deb Perris coaxed her three-month-old baby to drink milk from a bottle. They sat in Deb’s comfortable family room directly across the breakfast bar from the kitchen.

“You never were a very good liar,” Deb remarked.

“Why would I lie?” Trish asked.

“Gosh, I don’t know.” Deb brushed a few soft strands of Gavin’s hair off his forehead. “Maybe you’re trying to hide something. But here’s a little hint. If you think raising your voice two octaves higher than normal makes you sound happy, you’re wrong.”

Trish leaned forward to tug at little Gavin’s tiny foot. “Poor baby, you’ll never be able to get away with anything.”

“That’s right,” Deb said proudly. “So you might as well spill the beans. Is the man as bad as you thought he would be?”

“Worse,” Trish muttered before taking another hearty sip of wine to dull the misery.

“Really? Worse? How thrilling.” Deb pulled the bottle out of Gavin’s mouth to check how much milk was left. The baby began to fuss.

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” she crooned. “There’s plenty more.” She popped the bottle back into his mouth, then looked at Trish, unable to hide her excitement. “You know, I’m not surprised. Everyone at DDI seems to love him, but it’s always a different story when you get them behind closed doors. Figures the richest ones are always the biggest jerks.”

“But that’s the problem,” Trish grumbled. “The big jerk isn’t turning out to be quite the jerk we thought he’d be. Just the opposite, in fact. He’s thoughtful and funny and a true Good Samaritan-if all those charity files are to be believed. You should’ve seen how angry he got when he found out the contractors messed things up for handicapped guests at the resort.”

“You’re kidding,” Deb said. “He sounds like some kind of white knight.”

“I know.” Trish took another healthy gulp of wine. She wasn’t about to mention the orphanage Adam had spent time in. Not that she cared about his sensibilities. But good grief, how was she supposed to deal with the man she’d declared her sworn enemy when, despite what he’d done to her home and her family, she was actually starting to like him?

“Huh,” Deb said. “There’s got to be something wrong with him.”

“Not so far,” Trish griped.

“Oh, come on,” Deb persisted. “I can tell you’re holding out on me and that’s not fair. I’m stuck here blathering baby talk all day, every day. So throw me a bone, would you? A little gossip? Something? Anything?”

Trish laughed. “I’ve got nothing.”

“I’m not above begging,” Deb said as she fiddled with the baby’s blanket. “I don’t get out much. And not that it’s an issue or anything, but let’s face it, you owe me.”

“Hey, I steered you toward wearing the red dress, didn’t I?”

“Not good enough,” Deb said, laughing. “Although Ronnie was a happy man. Come on, spill.”

Trish sighed. It’s true that if it weren’t for Deb, she might never have been hired by Duke Development International in the first place. When Deb left her administrative job at DDI to stay home with the baby, she’d recommended Trish to Marjorie Wallace, the HR manager, who’d immediately hired Trish for the special assignment department. Trish never would’ve been able to infiltrate the company so quickly if not for Deb. So, yes, she owed her friend the truth-if only she could figure out exactly what the truth was.

“You could’ve warned me how dangerous this job could be to my health,” she groused, getting up to pour herself another half glass of the delicious crisp, dry wine. As she pushed the cork back into the bottle and returned it to the refrigerator shelf, she noticed the label. Duke Cellars. Oh, great. She couldn’t escape the man for one minute.

Deb gave her a quizzical look. “What do you mean, dangerous?”

Trish waved a hand to negate her words. “It’s nothing.”

Deb persisted. “Hey, if there’s a problem, you don’t have to handle it alone. You could-”

“It’s just-” Trish exhaled heavily. “It’s hard to breathe when he’s standing by my desk.”

Her friend’s smile was smug. “He really is cute, isn’t he?”

“Cute?” Trish repeated, stunned by the word. When had Deb become such a master of understatement? Cute was for puppy dogs and two-year-olds. Devastating would more accurately describe Adam Duke.

“But as I recall,” Deb continued, “I did warn you. You just weren’t ready to listen. You were on a mission, remember?”

Trish sipped her wine. “I still am.”

“You still intend to go through with it?”

“I have to.”

Deb shrugged, put the now-empty baby bottle on the side table, then lifted the baby to her shoulder. After a few pats, Gavin let out a healthy burp and they both laughed.

“What a good boy,” Deb whispered, bouncing the baby lightly in her arms.

Trish couldn’t prevent the pang of envy that tripped up her heart as she watched. Deb and she had been best friends since fourth grade when Deb’s parents moved their family to Dunsmuir Bay. Two years ago, Trish had been maid of honor when Deb married her high school sweetheart, Ronnie, in a beautiful ceremony on the cliff overlooking the bay. Then little Gavin was born three months ago and Deb quit her job to stay home.

Trish smiled wistfully. She didn’t really envy her friend’s happiness, but sometimes she wished things had turned out differently in her own life. If Grandma were still alive, if Anna’s Attic and the Victorian Village were still standing, her life might’ve taken another road, might’ve turned out more like Deb’s. She might have a husband or even a baby of her own by now.