A Convenient Proposal

Chapter Four

The whining vocals and jangling instruments created an excellent barrier between the two halves of the front seat. Arden sat with her eyes closed and her head back, hoping to relax and dull the knives stabbing through her skull. By the time they’d reached Daytona Beach, however, she could only surrender.

She turned the radio off. “Could we stop for the night? I really don’t think I can ride much farther without being sick.”

Griff flashed her an assessing glance. “No problem. There’s a good place to stay just two exits from here. Give me ten minutes and we’ll have a room.”

“No speeding,” she reminded him.

“Strictly under the limit,” he agreed. “And it’ll still be ten minutes.”

She stumbled across the grass beside the parking lot with Igor while Griff registered, then followed the Jag on foot as he drove around the building to the space nearest a door.

“I’ll bring the bags in,” he said, when she stopped beside the trunk. “I want you inside and lying down.”

“But—”

“No arguments.” He clasped her arm with one big, warm hand and drew her toward the door. “My ten minutes are almost up.”

Arden abandoned the argument because the afternoon sunlight jabbed viciously at her eyes. Even the elevator lighting seemed too bright. In the room, she unclipped Igor’s leash, then headed for the double bed nearest the air-conditioning unit.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, crawling to the center of the mattress. “I would help…” The pillow muffled her voice as she buried her face in its softness and succumbed to agony.

When she opened her eyes again, the world—though still painful—had become at least bearable again. She was lying on her side, covered by a soft blanket in a very cool room, with Igor curled in his usual place along the backs of her legs. The only light came from behind a mostly closed door, and the only sound was the soothing hum of air-conditioning. Focusing on that monotonous drone, refusing to ask herself any questions, Arden fell back into sleep.

A slight clink of glass woke her the second time. “Sorry,” a man whispered nearby. “I thought you might want something to drink when you woke up.”

Memory flooded through spaces vacated by the headache. Griff. The engagement. A baby. “That sounds good,” she murmured. “A cold drink would be wonderful.”

“Water or tea?”

She moved her head slightly, and it didn’t hurt too much. “Tea?”

“Coming up.”

Propping herself against the pillows required more effort than it should have, but she managed the feat in time to accept the glass of iced tea Griff offered. “Thank you so much.” The first taste was heaven. “Perfect.”

He hovered between the beds, as if he couldn’t decide whether to sit or stand. “I bought pain medicines, if you want something.”

“Right now I’m just thirsty.”

After she’d downed the glass and he’d brought another, Griff asked, “Do you get migraines often?”

Arden sipped, sighed, then frowned at him. “Do you always ask so many questions?”

“An occupational hazard, I guess. The animals can’t tell me what’s wrong, so I have to get as much information from the owners as I can. And that usually means asking questions.”

“Could you bring me my bag? I have some pills….”

“Sure.”

With the tablets swallowed, she set her empty glass on the table between the beds and slid down to rest her head on the pillows. She remembered that she hadn’t answered his question. “I haven’t had a migraine in months. But before I moved to Chaos, I was enduring at least one a week. Stress, the doctors said.”

“I’m sorry.” Griff sat down on the other bed, propping his elbows on his knees. “I didn’t intend to bring stress and pain into your life with my proposal.”

“Of course not.” The medicine was beginning to take effect, making her sleepy and a little drunk. She stretched out her arm to drop her hand onto his wrist. “I’ll be fine tomorrow. Just need…sleep.”

She wasn’t sure, but she thought she felt him kiss her fingers before the world faded away.



ONCE CONVINCED THAT ARDEN was fast asleep and would stay that way, Griff left Igor on guard and went to the hotel lobby to make a phone call. His first act upon reaching the ocean six months ago had been to throw his cell phone as far as possible—and considering he’d played right field for his high school and college baseball teams, that was far enough to be sure the phone never washed up on shore.

Now, he had to call collect. Fortunately, his mother answered. “Yes, of course we’ll accept the charges. Griff? Is that you?”

“Hey, Mom. Happy New Year.” Hearing her Southern belle accent exposed a soft place in his chest. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. We’re all just fine here. When are you coming home?”

Somewhere in the house, his sister Dana screamed, “Griff? Griffith Major Campbell, you get your butt home right now!”

He chuckled. “That was clear enough. As a matter of fact, Mom, I guess I’ll be there sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh, Griff, that’s wonderful.” Now she sounded a little teary, too. “Can we have the family over for dinner? Is that too much for your first night back? Where are you planning to stay? I’ll air out the guest cottage—no one’s lived there since last summer, but I can have it ready in a jiffy.”

“That would be great, Mom.” The moment was on top of him before he’d planned how to deal with it. “Um…I’m bringing someone with me.”

“That’s nice, son. You know friends of yours are always welcome.” Her words slowed, then stopped for a second as she interpreted his tone of voice. “Do you mean a girlfriend?”

“That’s right. Arden Burke is her name.”

“Is this an important relationship?”

“As a matter of fact…” He took a deep breath. “We have been talking about getting married.”

Which wasn’t a lie—he and Arden had discussed pretending to be engaged to be married.

A long pause followed his announcement.

“Mom? You still there?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m here. Just surprised, is all. You haven’t mentioned meeting someone. When you called.” Which wasn’t nearly often enough, her tone implied.

“It happened pretty suddenly.” Now he felt guilty. His family didn’t keep secrets more important than surprise parties, or birthday and Christmas presents. “But I’m sure you’ll like her. She’s terrific.” He sounded like the dumb hero in a two-star romantic comedy. “I thought Arden could stay in the guest house and I could sleep at the house, in my old room.”

“Of course. That will work out perfectly.” Her voice had cooled from its usual warm tone. “Here’s your dad. I’ll see you tomorrow, son. Oh, I’m so glad to be able to say that!”

In the next instant, his father said, “It’s about time you called to say you’re coming home.”

Griff grinned, at the same time shaking his head over the familiar, irascible voice. “Better late than never.”

“You’re way past late. I’m too old to be working this hard.”

“Right, Dad. You’re so ancient.”

“Without a second vet in the practice, I’m feeling ancient. Be prepared to do some serious overtime, ’cause as soon as you get home, your mother and I will be taking a long vacation.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it. But we’ll show up tomorrow afternoon sometime.”

“We?”

“Mom will explain. See y’all then.”

“Griff—”

“Kiss the girls for me. Bye.” He hung up without letting his dad get another word in. Jake Campbell always knew when his children weren’t telling the truth. Griff didn’t want to risk blowing his cover before he’d even crossed the Georgia state line.

Walking back to the hotel room, he endured second thoughts about his “brilliant” plan for going home. Could he and Arden convince his family that they had fallen in love and decided to get married? Exactly what kind of charade had they agreed to perform?

He entered the room as quietly as the lock would allow. Igor’s hackles raised as Griff came near, but subsided when he stretched out on the empty bed. Turning onto his stomach, Griff studied the woman across from him, now curled on her side and smiling slightly—sure signs she’d fallen into a deep, restorative sleep. The thought allowed him to relax, too.

He wouldn’t have any trouble demonstrating physical attraction to his “fiancée.” Even knowing she needed her rest, he could easily have become aroused enough to wake her up to make love. And he had a feeling she’d be fun to talk to, if she would ever answer his questions.

But she obviously wanted to keep her life—past, present and future—a secret. Griff had to wonder why. Was she a criminal, hiding from the law? Did all that money come from a bank robbery or an investment scam? Embezzlement?

More likely, Arden was a victim hoping to avoid pursuit, perhaps even threats against her life. That would explain the pistol and the dog. Had she witnessed a crime? Or was a jealous ex-boyfriend—husband, maybe?—refusing to let her go?

Griff flopped onto his back. Jeez. He was going to have to get a few answers from the lady, if only so he could stay alert and protect them both.

During tomorrow’s drive they would have to talk about the information lovers tended to share, so they wouldn’t be surprised when questions popped up. With his mother and three sisters at the dinner table, an interrogation would definitely be on the menu.

Meanwhile, Dr. Jake would scan their faces with his sharp blue eyes and register every hesitation, every panicked gulp, every blank-minded pause. Griff might not reveal his thoughts right away, but he had never successfully lied to his dad.

He was pretty sure tomorrow wouldn’t be any different.



THE NEXT MORNING, Arden swore she had recovered completely, and left Griff no choice but to believe her when she downed a huge country-style breakfast.

“I’m always famished after a migraine,” she said, spreading jam on a corn muffin. “And we didn’t really eat yesterday, did we?”

“I had a sandwich last night. But I’m glad you feel better.” Griff had done a reasonable job of finishing his own platter of food. “So we’re ready to go?”

Her nod set her hair swinging. “Definitely.”

They stopped for lunch at an outlet mall just over the Georgia–Florida line. “First we eat,” Arden declared. “Then we shop.”

Seeing the excitement in her face, he chuckled. “Lead the way.”

He followed her into the most upscale stores and watched her browse the racks with a critical eye. Then she would disappear into a dressing room with an armful of clothes, finally emerging with a select few items.

Only once did she ask for his help. “Stay there,” she told him, heading in with a pile of jeans. “I’m going to want a second opinion.”

Slouched in a chair near the dressing area, Griff waited with the resignation of a man who had spent too many hours watching sisters try on clothes, and who had all too often been asked for his appraisal, only to be told he didn’t know what he was talking about.

He would just tell Arden she looked great in everything, then let her choose. No sense getting into an argument over jeans.

Then she walked out in the first pair. “Wow,” he said sincerely. “Those look great.” The jeans rode low on her hips and fit tight in all the right places. She had put on a snug T-shirt, which revealed her slender waist and rounded breasts. Griff wholeheartedly approved.

Arden frowned as she examined her mirror image. “Not bad. Maybe a little wide in the leg?”

He tilted his head and considered. “Don’t think so.”

She nodded. “Right. I’ll be back.”

He shook his head when she reappeared. “Too big.” By which he meant not tight enough.

“Comfortable,” she replied. Then she pulled at a fold of fabric over her hip. “But you’re right. Too big.”

In the end, she chose the first jeans he’d liked, plus an even slimmer, tighter pair that left him shifting in his seat.

“Nice,” he managed to say. “Very nice.” He doubted she would appreciate being told those jeans were “hot.”

In the next store, Arden browsed through the coats and jackets while Griff went to the men’s department for clothes and shoes he could wear to dinner at his mother’s table. As he changed in the dressing room, an announcement came over the sound system. “Shoppers, be aware that we have a lost child in the store. If you see a little girl wandering alone, please inform a salesperson immediately. Thank you.”

As he left the changing area, Griff checked behind each door, but all the booths were empty. With his old clothes in a shopping bag, he went back to the women’s department.

He couldn’t see Arden anywhere. Lingerie, dresses, sportswear, makeup…no slim, dark-haired beauty was to be found. Returning to the coat section, he walked slowly among the displays, wondering if he should stay put and allow her to find him. Had she decided to ditch the plan, after all?

In the end, he almost tripped over her where she sat on the floor, head bent to look beneath coats hanging from a rack.

“Can you come out now?” Her low, sweet tone made the words sound like a lullaby. “Your mommy is wondering where you are.”

The child didn’t answer.

Arden extended her hand a short way. “I can take you to your mommy, if you want.” Still no response. “Or your mommy can come to you.”

Griff took the hint and notified the nearest saleswoman. Then he went back to serve as a marker for the child’s location.

Moments later, a blonde woman with a tear-streaked face dropped to her knees beside Arden. A crowd of security officers, store managers and salespeople hovered behind them.

The mother stretched out her hands. “Kristy? Kristy, honey? Come to Mommy.”

The little girl spoke this time. “Unh-uh.”

“Sweetie, you can’t stay here. We have to go home.”

“No.”

The mother’s cheeks flushed, and annoyance replaced some of her panic. “Come on out, sweetheart. We’ll go get that ice cream you wanted.”

Arden looked up at Griff. “We need a toy,” she said softly. “Can you find one?”

A glance around showed him the children’s department across the store. “Be right back.”

He sprinted as if he’d hit a double, grabbed a stuffed duck off a shelf and raced back like he was stealing home. Panting only slightly, he dropped the toy in Arden’s lap.

“Quack, quack,” she said immediately, sounding like an authentic bird. “Quack, quack, quack.”

She made the duck waddle forward, as if taking a peek at the little girl, and then retreat, still quacking. The second time, a small hand followed. Finally, a child’s head emerged from among the hanging garments. Kristy reached for the duck as her mother reached for her.

“There you are.” The woman got to her feet with her daughter in her arms. “Naughty girl, hiding from Mommy.”

Arden had released the stuffed duck into the little girl’s hold. Kristy put the toy under her chin and hid her face against her mom’s neck.

“Thank you so much.” The mother gave Arden a grateful look. “We’d been searching for an hour when they made the announcement. I was so afraid someone had taken her.” Tears spilled onto her cheeks again. She kissed Kristy’s forehead. “So afraid.”

Arden set a hand briefly on the child’s back. “I’m glad I could help. I just happened to hear her singing to herself.” She gathered her shopping bags and backed up as she spoke. “Let her keep the duck as my present.”

“Oh, no–”

But Arden turned at that moment and began to walk away. Catching a glimpse of her face, Griff pulled a couple of twenty dollar bills from his pocket and dropped them beside a register, then hurried after her.

He caught up in time to open the outside door before Arden could. Once they’d cleared the exit, he stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Are you okay?”

Tears sparkled in her long lashes as she looked up at him. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”

“Forgive me for saying so, but you don’t look fine. You look…devastated.”

“Not at all.” Setting down her bags, she wiped her fingers over her eyes and cheeks. No mascara smeared, proving that her long lashes were natural. “Really, I’m okay.”

Griff took the opportunity to pick up the shopping bags himself. “She was a cute little girl.”

“All those blond curls.” Arden sighed and nodded. “But evidently a handful for her mother.”

“Most kids are, at one time or another. I’m sure my mother will tell you stories about my escapades. One of the drawbacks to this charade, I guess. You’ll know more about me than you ever wanted to.”

“And we should be on the road, shouldn’t we?” Arden started walking briskly toward the parking lot. “We wouldn’t want to be late for dinner.”

Surprised that she hadn’t argued about carrying the bags, Griff followed. Igor greeted them at the car windows, and Arden took him for a brief walk in the chilly fresh air before they resumed the trip.

With her sunglasses back in place and her face turned toward the window, she couldn’t have signaled more clearly that she wasn’t in the mood to talk. Griff left her alone and even left the radio off as he wrestled with his own thoughts.

Arden had said she wanted a child as her “price” for doing him this favor. The expression on her face—part grief, part yearning, he decided—indicated more than just the ticking of her biological clock. He’d seen grieving pet owners wear that look.

Had Arden lost a child? Would she tell him if he asked?

Griff snorted to himself. Not likely.

Not yet, anyway.



THEY HAD THEIR FIRST lover’s quarrel as they passed through Macon around four o’clock.

“I am not a short-tempered man,” Griff said through set teeth. “But you’re testing my limits.”

Arden stared out the side window. “You know as much as you need to. My past is finished and of no interest to anyone, including me.”

His fist thudded on the steering wheel. “Lovers—people who are thinking about spending their lives together—share their histories. Childhood days, teenage years and college…all of it contributes to the person you’ve become. Your memories matter.”

Most of Arden’s childhood memories involved windowless rooms containing a music stand and a violin. “We aren’t spending our lives together. Just a few weeks.”

“Why are you threatened by my questions? Wait—you’re in the Witness Protection Program, right? If I discover who you really are, they’ll find you and kill you.”

She couldn’t repress a chuckle. “I wish I could use that excuse, because you might actually let this rest.”

“You won’t say where you were born?” He sounded almost discouraged.

Perhaps if she gave him a few details, he’d be satisfied. “Okay, you win. I was born in New York City and lived there with my mother until I was nine.”

He turned his head to give her a big grin. “Not so hard to say, was it? What happened when you were nine?”

“We moved around quite a bit.” Because she was performing in Europe and Asia.

“Where did you graduate from high school?”

“I was homeschooled.”

“Ah. And college?”

Now she’d reached her limit. “New York.”

“Does that meant New York State University? New York University? Or a college which shall remain nameless in the city of New York?”

“Does it matter?”

“Are you trying to drive me crazy?” With a twist of his wrist, bluegrass music blared into the space between them, painfully loud.

But Arden endured it without comment, refusing to give him the satisfaction of admitting it bothered her. Griff drove for an hour without changing the volume or glancing in her direction. Though she regretted the hostility between them, she couldn’t bring herself to admit more.

Because admitting that she’d attended Julliard would lead him to ask about her musical career. If she told him the truth, he’d pry into the reasons she wasn’t playing now. She’d have to reveal her approaching deafness, and from there move on to her gullibility and foolishness. As hard as she’d worked to bury those memories, telling Griff about them would bring everything back to the surface.

Why put herself through that?

Finally, he turned down the radio volume. “I’m sorry I yelled,” he said. “Maybe I’m not as even tempered as I claimed to be.”

“I can understand your frustration.” She turned slightly toward him. “Just believe me—nothing in my past matters today, and none of it affects you in the least. As far as we’re concerned, history started on New Year’s Eve.”

“I’ll try.” He swallowed hard. “So what details shall we concoct for the benefit of the nosy people in Sheridan? Let’s make up a really good story, so they’ll be suitably impressed.”

Arden hadn’t even begun to think of a story when Griff snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it. How about we say you’re a lost relative of the last Russian czar?”



WITHIN AN HOUR OF THEIR arrival, Arden decided that her current predicament made press conferences look like quiet time at the public library.

The Campbell family proved to be huge, comprised of not just Griff’s parents and three sisters, but their husbands and children, too, all of whose names she was supposed to remember. Plus his cousins—at least five of them, with their own spouses and kids.

“I’ll make you a cheat sheet,” Griff whispered shortly after they arrived. “You can study in bed tonight.”

Was it his breath on her ear that sent a shiver up her spine? Or just the prospect of having to know this many people by tomorrow morning?

Seated at the long table in the Campbells’ dining room, Arden managed to taste, chew and swallow exactly one bite of a delicious potato casserole before the questions started.

Griff’s oldest sister, Dana, sat on her right. “So, where did the two of you meet?” She resembled her brother, with the same curly blond hair, pinned into a loose knot at the back of her head, and those beautiful blue eyes. Both of them were the image of their father, whose piercing gaze had already flustered Arden more than she wanted to admit.

“We met in Miami.” Arden took a sip of iced tea, trying to recall the story they’d decided to tell. “On the beach, actually.”

Dana’s eyes narrowed. “Most people don’t talk to strangers on the beach.”

“My dog had slipped his leash.” They’d introduced Igor to the crowd, then put him in the laundry room with a blanket and his dinner. “Griff caught him and was walking along the shore looking for his owner.”

“Sounds like him.”

Arden gave a silent sigh of relief.

“But Igor still isn’t too friendly with Griff, is he? I mean, he doesn’t try to play with him or anything.”

“I’m afraid not.” Time for improvisation. “But you’ll notice that Igor isn’t friendly with men in general. The shelter where I found him said his previous owner was, to put it mildly, abusive, and had left Igor with a real grievance against males.” She offered what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “We’re working on it, though. I think Igor will come around in time.”

The youngest Campbell sister, Kathy, spoke from across the table. Arden turned to watch her lips, but the competing conversations in the room muddled the beginning of her comment.

“…love Griff,” Kathy said. “I’ve seen him coax foxes and deer to eat from his fingers.”

“That’s a good way to get rabies,” Dr. Campbell pointed out from the end of the table. His forceful voice would be audible no matter how high the level of background noise.

“Which is why I’ve had my rabies vaccinations.” Griff turned from talking to his mother, on his other side. “Why don’t y’all let Arden eat some of this delicious food? There’s plenty of time ahead for answering questions.”

She sent him a grateful glance.

“So take your own turn, bro.” Lauren, the middle sister, resembled her mother and Kathy, with soft, curling brown hair and green eyes. She, too, sat across the table. “How long have you two been dating?”

“That was July,” Griff replied promptly, “when we met on the beach. The fourth, to be exact. We were watching fireworks and Igor bolted because of the noise.”

“You’ve been in Miami all this time?” Mrs. Campbell’s question sounded loud in the sudden silence around the table. “But I thought you said—”

Griff held up a hand. “I did say. I spent most of the time I was gone traveling around the Caribbean. I hit the Bahamas, Turk and Puerto Rico, then Montserrat, Barbados, Tobago and most of the islands in between. But…” He raised his wineglass in Arden’s direction. “I went back to Miami more and more often. For a little longer each time.”

Arden had to admire his acting ability. He didn’t betray the lie with so much as the flicker of an eyelash.

“And you live in Miami all the time, Arden?” Mrs. Campbell’s reaction had so far been the most reserved in the family. “On the beach?”

Now everyone at the table had stopped talking to listen, so she could hear easily enough. “I have a condo there.”

“In a high-rise,” Griff added, “with an amazing view. Watching a storm come in over the horizon is better than any Hollywood movie.”

“And what kind of work do you do in Miami?”

She turned toward Dr. Campbell to answer his question. “I—”

But Griff spoke at the same moment. “I’m going to make Arden eat in the kitchen from now on,” he declared. “She’ll starve to death out here.”

“You’re right.” His dad pretended to look sternly around the table, but his eyes twinkled. “No one is allowed to talk to Griff or Arden again until they’ve left their seats.”

Arden gave another silent sigh as the focus of attention became more scattered. Even Griff addressed his food, rather than her.

But when she put her hand into her lap for her napkin, he reached over, grasped her fingers and squeezed.

As appeared to be their custom, the family sat late around the table, drinking wine and carefully avoiding asking Arden more questions. Her offer to help with clearing the dishes was met with a small smile and a shake of Mrs. Campbell’s head.

“No, thank you. Just sit there and relax.” Her three daughters and several cousins did get up, however, leaving Arden at the table with the men. She might have found that relaxing enough, but Griff hitched his chair close to hers and put his arm around her shoulders.

“This is what I’d do if we were authentic,” he murmured, taking her hand off the table and twining his fingers with hers. “Thanks for putting up with all this. I know it’s not easy.”

She smiled, trying to look as if he’d said something sweet and romantic. “It’s not exactly hard. You have a very nice family.”

“Too nice, sometimes.” He leaned close and kissed her cheek.

“What does that mean?” Her face felt hot where his lips had touched.

“Not my dad—he’s your usual gruff, grumpy, take-care-of-yourself old guy. But being the only boy with three sisters and a mom is like trying to swim in a pool filled with feathers. Soft, sweet-smelling feathers.”

Arden laughed. “That sounds awful.”

Griff gave her a dire look. “Exactly.”

People began getting up from the table, and Griff stood to pull her chair out so that Arden could, as well. Unfortunately, the end of dinner signaled the resumption of questions. As Arden surveyed photographs of the family displayed on the bookshelves framing the fireplace in the den, she felt Mrs. Campbell’s presence at her shoulder.

“Does your family live in Miami, as well?”

The subtext to that question came through loud and clear: Did they know about Griff before we knew about you?

“My mother lives in New York.” Arden turned halfway around, so she could see her inquisitor without a direct confrontation. “My dad left when I was five, and we haven’t heard from him since. I don’t have any brothers or sisters, or cousins, that I know of.” No matter how many times she told it, the story never sounded less pitiful.

“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Campbell said. “We’re so used to having lots of family around, I forget that not everyone is so lucky. Do you visit often with your mother? New York to Miami is a long way to travel.”

The usual javelin of anger and pain stabbed through Arden. “We…” She cleared her throat. “We had a—a disagreement about a year ago. I haven’t seen her since.”

For the first time since they’d met, the reserve in Mrs. Campbell’s eyes melted. “That’s terrible. I hope the two of you can resolve your differences soon. I can’t imagine not speaking to one of my daughters for a year—or even a day! I had a hard enough time when Griff vanished. He was out of touch for several months, and I went nearly crazy with worry.”

Arden turned the rest of the way around. “He didn’t tell you he was leaving?”

Griff’s mother nodded. “He did, but no one anticipated that he wouldn’t call or even send an email. It’s not like him to cut himself off from everybody.”

Arden looked across the room, where Griff was playing rock, scissors, paper with the eight children circled around him. “Being betrayed by the person you expected to marry changes you in ways you don’t understand. Or even recognize, at first.”

Mrs. Campbell followed her line of sight. “You sound as if you’ve experienced that kind of pain yourself.”

Having revealed more than she intended, Arden hoped her dismay didn’t show on her face. “Um…I was engaged. Then I discovered he was unfaithful, so I broke it off. But I haven’t mentioned that to Griff. If you wouldn’t mind—”

“No, of course I won’t tell him. But I can promise you that my son wouldn’t hurt a woman.”

“I know.” Somehow, Arden did. Part of Griff’s appeal derived from his courtly behavior. He was a gentleman in every sense of that old-fashioned word. “He’s different from any man I’ve ever known.”

“We’re certainly proud of him.” Rosalie Campbell smiled as she watched him lose the game. “We never again want to see him suffer as he has this last six months.”

“Believe me, the last thing I want is to cause trouble for Griff. Or anyone.”

That meant she couldn’t afford to stay too long or get too close to the family who loved him. Otherwise, there would be pain all around when she returned to her solitary existence on Chaos Key—with, perhaps, a child of her own to cherish.

And these people would hate her for taking that baby away.

So they simply couldn’t find out. She would have to leave before anyone even suspected she might be pregnant, Griff included. Judging by his family, and by what she knew of him so far, he was not a man who would let go of his child.

Unfortunately for them all, Arden had remade herself into a woman who refused to share. Not her child, not her life…and definitely not her heart.



GRIFF GAVE EACH OF the kids a high five hand slap, then looked around in time to see his sisters advancing toward Arden with more questions on their minds. After enduring a chat with his mom, the last thing his fiancée needed was another round with the Campbell interrogation team.

He arrived just in time to head them off. “Nope, no more tonight,” he declared, stepping between the inquisitors and their victim. “Arden and I are taking Igor for a walk and then she’s going to get some rest. It’s been a long couple of days.”

“Why, Griff, whatever do you mean?” Dana fluttered her eyelashes at him in her best Gone with the Wind imitation.

“We just want to make Arden feel at home.” Kathy usually played Melanie to Dana’s Scarlett.

Lauren twirled an imaginary mustache. “And worm her life history out of her.” She finished up with a wicked laugh.

“Tomorrow,” he promised, and put his arm around Arden’s shoulders to guide her toward his parents. “Tomorrow’s another day.”

As they said good-night, his dad held Arden’s hand for a moment. “I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to you, young lady. I’ll look forward to that in the days ahead.”

Arden smiled widely, as if she wasn’t terrified. “I will, too, Dr. Campbell. Griff’s told me how much he admires you.”

Griff didn’t remember saying anything like that. But it sounded good.

Then his dad looked at him. “With the holiday over, office hours are back to normal, but I’ll give you tomorrow and Tuesday off. We’ll expect to see you bright and early Wednesday morning.”

“Yes, sir.” If not for the weight of his dad’s hand on his shoulder and the brief squeeze from those strong fingers, the words would have sounded like punishment. Reading between the lines, though, Griff knew Jake was glad to have him back.

“’Night, Mom.” He leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “Thanks for the terrific dinner. Best food I’ve had in, oh, about six months.”

“Yes, well.” She gave him a hug, then stepped back. “Arden, I’ll be back in my classroom at seven-thirty tomorrow morning, but I’ll leave some breakfast at the house for whenever you’re hungry. There is a coffeepot with supplies in the cottage, and a few snacks if you should get hungry tonight.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Campbell. I’m so glad to be here.”

Griff expected his mother to invite Arden to call her by her first name. But as the pause lengthened, he realized she wasn’t going to do that.

“Let’s go rescue that dog of yours,” he told Arden. “’Night, everybody,” he called to the room at large.

Then, finally, they were outside in the cool, crisp night, with Igor sniffing his way through the rye grass his dad always put down to keep the lawn green through the winter.

“The fresh air smells good,” Griff said. “That was a long time to be closed up inside the house. After eight hours inside the car.”

Beside him, Arden nodded. “Island life is different, isn’t it?”

He nodded in turn. “There’s always a breeze.”

“And clouds scudding across the sky, night or day.”

“The splash of waves on sand and birdsongs in the trees.”

“True.” She drew an audible breath, then blew it out in a cloud of white. “Still, your family is happy to get you back. They’ll be glad to support you through the ordeal of the wedding. I don’t think you really need me here at all.”

“Oh, but I do.” He moved ahead of her onto the small porch of the guest cottage, pulled the screen door back and then pushed the front door open. His mother had left a lamp on the hall table switched on, so they didn’t have to step into darkness. “I couldn’t face my family, let alone the rest of the town, if you weren’t here.”

Arden had shut the door behind her, and now leaned back against it. “But why, Griff? Your family knows how badly you were hurt when Zelda canceled the wedding. You don’t have to camouflage your feelings.”

As Igor disappeared down the dark hallway on a sniffing expedition, Griff walked through the front of the house, turning on lights. “Living room, dining area, kitchen. I don’t want them feeling sorry for me.”

She had followed him into the hallway. “Sympathy isn’t pity.”

“I don’t want sympathy, either. This is the bedroom.” The lamplight showed pink and peach where he’d been expecting green. “Mom’s redecorated since I was here. That’s her stress reliever—wallpaper and paint. There’s a full bathroom attached.” He walked over to open the door.

Arden stayed by the doorway into the hall. “She said she was very worried when you left. That you didn’t call or email.”

Griff thrust his hands in his pockets. “What was I going to say? ‘Having a miserable time, glad you aren’t here’?”

Shaking his head, he joined her in the doorway. “Tonight, because of you, I wasn’t the prodigal son, coming home to be forgiven and taken care of.” He set his hands on her shoulders. “Instead, I came home proud, bringing with me a lovely woman who, as far as they know, is crazy about me. We’re deeply in love and planning a perfect life together. I may have left town a failure, but I came back a winner.”

She wrapped her fingers around his wrists. “They’re not completely convinced, you know. Your sisters, your mother and dad—they’re still suspicious.”

“So we’ll convince them.” Griff bent his head to breathe in the citrus scent of Arden’s hair, then lingered to kiss her smooth forehead. “If I stay here for a while, that should help.” He brushed his mouth over her temple, her cheekbone and the curve of her jaw. “How would you like to spend the time?”

Her breathing had changed. “Parcheesi? Backgammon?”

“Right.” He released her and started down the hallway. “I think there’s a set in the living room—”

“You’re not going anywhere.” She gripped his elbow to stop him, then pulled him around to face her.

Not that Griff made it hard. He’d only been teasing.

So she was smiling as her arms circled his neck. “How about spin the bottle?”

He folded his arms around her waist. “Let’s skip the bottle part.”

“Good idea.”

Still he paused a moment, studying the flecks of green in her gray eyes and anticipating the pleasure promised by her soft, rosy mouth…until, with a desperate little sound, Arden dragged his head down and pressed her lips against his.

Relief swamped him first—he wasn’t in this thing alone, thank God. Then desire surged through him and he drowned in it, pulling Arden tight against him to indulge all of his many fantasies about kissing her. Her sweet mouth surrendered and he took full advantage, tasting and stroking, groaning with pleasure as she made her own demands, satisfied her own needs.

She wore an ocean-green cashmere sweater that seemed to disappear beneath his palms…but not quite, so he slipped one hand underneath to find her skin every bit as silky as he’d anticipated. The new jeans he’d admired because they were tight meant he couldn’t do the same at her waist, but he smoothed a hand over the curve of her hip and the swell of her bottom and was rewarded when she pressed her belly even closer to his. Then she lifted her knee to the outside of his thigh and he pretty much lost his mind. The sane part of it, anyway.

Strong and hard and sure…he felt like an anchor to Arden, a rock she could cling to while her head spun and her knees dissolved. His hands moved on her body, a glorious, intimate pressure she wanted to feel on every inch of her skin. Or that might be his mouth, instead, exploring the arch of her neck and the curl of her ear.

Clearly, they both had too many clothes on, because she couldn’t get his shirttail out of his jeans fast enough to satisfy her craving for the feel of his flesh beneath her fingertips. She needed him closer, needed his weight on top of her to bear down against the aches he was creating there, down low, with just the press of his palm over her breast….

“Ow!” He jerked away, staggering back against the other wall of the hallway. “Damn it, what is your problem?”

Dropped all the way to ground zero, Arden sagged against the door frame, panting and staring. “Wh-what?”

Griff paid no attention. He was shaking his leg, trying to detach the dog’s jaws clamped around his calf.

“Igor!” She grabbed his bright green collar and pulled. “Bad dog, Igor. Release. Stop it.”

“Ow!” Griff put out his hands. “He’s got his teeth in my leg. Don’t shake him anymore. Talk to him calmly. Try coaxing him away.”

“Igor.” Arden knelt beside the dog, stroking his sides and back. “Igor, let go. Good boy, come on, good boy. You made him stop. That’s a good doggy, Igor. Let’s get a treat.”

Though it seemed to take forever, once Griff stood still, Igor finally backed off.

“Now follow through,” Griff told Arden. “Give him a treat.”

“Are you all right?”

“Sure.” He straightened and took a deep breath. “But maybe I should head back up to the house.”

“Um…okay.”

He gave a half smile. “Maybe Igor could stay in the kitchen while I make my getaway?”

Arden took the dog to the kitchen and gave him a chew bone, then made sure both doors to the room were shut.

“I am so sorry,” she said as she joined Griff at the front door. “He has had all his vaccinations.” She eyed the rip in Griff’s jeans. “Maybe you should see a doctor tonight, though. Dog bites—”

He straightened up from leaning against the wall. “Are an occupational hazard for veterinarians. Don’t worry about me.” With a knuckle under her chin, he lifted her face to his for a restrained kiss. “I’m just sorry we were interrupted. You pack a powerful punch, Ms. Arden Burke.”

She felt her cheeks heat with a blush. “So do you. I hope…” Taking a deep breath, she finished quickly. “I hope we’ll pick up where we left off. Soon.”

Instead of smiling, as she expected, he gave her a serious, searching look. “Me, too. G’night,” he added, giving her a last caress. “Sleep as late as you want and come up to the house when you’re ready.”

“I will.”

She closed the door behind him and leaned back against it. Those moments in Griff’s arms had amazed her—outside her music, she’d never before been so lost in the pleasure of the moment. Her mind had been completely overcome by her body’s reaction to Griff’s touch.

That reaction, she hoped, would burn itself out once they’d made love a few times. She couldn’t afford to become dependent on him for sex, or for anything else—his consideration, his gentleness, his encouragement and protection, for instance. She’d be living her life alone, fending for herself and, she hoped, a child.

Griff Campbell was simply a pleasant—well, more than pleasant—means to an end. As she released Igor from the kitchen and got ready for bed, Arden promised herself she would remember that fact.

Because if she didn’t, this entire effort would become yet another exercise in despair.



GRIFF LIMPED AROUND the yard for a while, letting the frigid darkness serve as tonight’s version of a cold shower. He visited the near pastures, but the horses stayed away, unsure of his identity in the dark. When the throb in his calf had overcome the unsatisfied ache in his belly, he allowed himself to head back to the house.

Wearing his shirt and boxers, he was sitting on the side of the tub in the downstairs back bathroom, scrubbing Igor’s teeth marks with soap and hot water, when his dad appeared at the doorway.

Jake leaned against the door frame. “Run into a wild coon outside?”

“Just an overprotective canine.” Griff turned off the water. “Can you hand me a towel?” When his dad reached for the pale peach one hanging within his reach, Griff shook his head. “You know Mom doesn’t want blood on her good linens. I need one of the everyday towels.”

“Right.” His dad stepped into the laundry room and came back with the appropriate cloth. “Doesn’t look too deep. You might want some antibiotics, though, since it’s more puncture than scrape.”

“Yeah. He had a pretty good hold of me, even through the jeans. Which are now useful for painting in and not much else. Brand-new, too.”

“The world well lost for love.”

“Right.” With his skin dry, Griff applied antibiotic ointment and gauze pads, then rolled tape around his calf to hold things in place. “I suspect I’ll survive.”

“Love, or the dog bite?”

His dad, Griff realized, had stayed up to investigate. Time to be careful about what he said. “The dog bite. Love is always fatal, I believe. Don’t we all die still loving somebody?”

“If we’re lucky. You seem to have found a replacement for Zelda pretty fast. Sure it’s not just a rebound romance?”

“Oh, yeah.” His dad didn’t need to know exactly why he was so sure. “Arden is a fantastic person. I think you’ll realize that as you get to know her.”

He wasn’t lying with that one, but he felt as if a huge bell had rung inside his chest, and the vibrations just kept going and going….

“I hope so. She’s certainly beautiful. A little quiet, I thought. Not comfortable in a crowd.”

“I’m sure Mom told you she’s not from a big family. Our hordes of cousins would scare anybody.”

“True. They’re mostly your mother’s family.” They shared a grin, because that was the standard line. Anything wrong always happened on the other side of the family. “Well, I’ll look forward to the quieter times when we can get to know your Arden better.”

Griff picked up his ripped jeans and dirty towel and followed his dad out of the bathroom. The shadowed hallway provided good cover for anything his face might give away. “Me, too.”

“So did you get to do any real work while you were down in the islands? Or did you drink the time away?”

“I volunteered for different clinics and rescue groups, when I could find them. There are some marine animal facilities scattered around, all still dealing with the aftermath of the oil spill and the last few hurricanes.”

“Not a total waste of time, then.” Jake headed toward the master bedroom.

Griff watched the door close behind his dad, knowing he shouldn’t let that last comment go unchallenged. But why start an argument his first night home?

He climbed the stairs to his room, instead, and settled into the bed he’d slept in since he was ten, where he’d hidden magazines of various kinds under the mattress and dreamed about everything from hot cars and hot music to hot women.

Apparently, he had one of those on his hands right now. Under Arden Burke’s cool exterior burned a fierce fire. After so long alone, Griff had a pretty good inferno going, himself. Together, they could burn up the night. Many nights, he hoped.

With the dog locked away somewhere else.

As he punched his pillow into shape, though, Griff reminded himself to be careful. The lady wanted something from him—that’s why she’d come along. This wasn’t a friend doing him a favor. Arden wanted him to make a baby for her. Quid pro quo.

So getting too involved would leave him in the same place Zelda’s defection had. But he didn’t want another woman to miss, or a relationship to mourn. Good times, salvaged pride and an easy goodbye—surely that wasn’t too much to ask.

And if it was, he was tired enough that even his doubts couldn’t keep him awake tonight.



OVER BREAKFAST the next morning, Griff offered to take Arden into town. “I can show you off to the populace, in line with our agenda, and you can tour the booming metropolis of Sheridan, Georgia.”

“Can we walk?” She took a deep breath of crisp air when they stepped outside. “It’s a beautiful day, not too cold at all.”

He squinted, as if measuring the distance. “Depends on how long you want to walk. We’re about three miles from the middle of town.”

A glance down at the knee-high boots she’d bought just yesterday dampened her enthusiasm. “Um, maybe not this time.”

“So, we can drive the Jag. Or…” He lifted a questioning eyebrow.

“Or?”

“We could ride my bike.”

Arden took a quick breath, hardly daring to hope. “As in motorcycle?”

“As in Harley.”

She clapped her hands. “Oh, yes. Please?”

Griff pulled a ring of keys out of his pocket. “I hoped you’d say that.”

In a matter of minutes, she was straddling the motorcycle at his back, arms around his waist and the wind in her face. “This is glorious,” she called over his shoulder. “I’ve always wanted to ride a Harley.”

“Glad I could be your first,” he yelled back, with that mischievous, slanted grin she was beginning to look for.

Griff piloted them to the center of town and found a parking place along a tree-lined street with quaint storefronts on each side. At one end stood an impressive brick courthouse with white columns and a white steeple on top. At the other end, long stretches of lawn and huge, leafless trees surrounded the statue of a mounted soldier.

“Here we are,” Griff said, removing his own helmet and holding a hand out for hers. “Beautiful, anachronistic Sheridan, Georgia. Population eight thousand, give or take a few. Home to the last remnants of the antebellum South.”

“Lovely.” Arden noticed the live pine garlands swagged across front porches, the wreaths made of real magnolia leaves and holly sprigs, all of them tied with red bows. “I’m sure it’s wonderful at Christmas.”

“Of course. The different church choirs come together on Christmas Eve to sing carols on the courthouse lawn.” He motioned up and down the street. “Folks stroll around with hot cider and cookies, greeting their neighbors. It’s a scene straight out of—”

He broke off, then swore under his breath. “I don’t believe this. Not first thing.”

Arden looked around. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t see anything dangerous, or unusual. Just a pair of women walking toward them on the sidewalk. Mother and daughter, judging from appearances, busy in conversation. Both of them were pretty blondes, well-dressed and with perfect makeup. They didn’t notice Griff until they almost ran into him.

The younger woman looked up at that moment. Her face went white and her jaw dropped. “Oh, my God,” she whispered.

“You know I hate it when you use that expression,” her mother said, still focused on a notepad in her hand. Then she, too, looked at Griff. Arden worried for a second that she might actually faint.

Griff nodded to the older woman. “Hello, Mrs. Talbot. Happy New Year.”

Then he took a deep breath and looked directly at the daughter. “I have somebody I’d like y’all to meet.” Reaching out, he drew Arden close to his side. “This is my new fiancée, Arden Burke.”

His arm felt like iron around her shoulders. “Arden, this is Mrs. Talbot. And my former fiancée, her daughter Zelda.”