That Carrington Magic

chapter 1



“Matchmaking? So I’m a guinea pig to check out your Internet dating questionnaire?” Jami Rhodes rolled her eyes, then stared back at the form on her laptop screen. “Who helped you think of these questions? It reads like a reality dating show.”

“Really?” Sierra’s gamine face lit with a proud grin, obviously accepting the remark as a compliment. “Ty and I thought of most of them ourselves.”

“Uh huh.” Jami shook her head. “Maybe a few Cosmo compatibility quizzes thrown in for reference?”

“Caught me.” Sierra glowed. “Magazines did inspire some, but we researched psychological profiles, other dating sites, and a library of material.”

Jami’s watched her friend’s enthusiasm and decided just to take the test. Easier than arguing. How could it hurt? But she wouldn’t go down easy.

“Hmm, let’s see.” Suppressing a grin, Jami tossed back her mane of hair, then read aloud. “For an ideal date, do you prefer: dinner and a show, a Broadway play, a picnic, or a tractor pull?”

“Tractor pull?” Sierra squealed, trying to see the questionnaire. “Must be a computer glitch.”

Jami sputtered into laughter.

“Oh, you!” Sierra punched Jamie’s arm. “You made up the tractor pull.” She pointed a slender finger to scold with mock seriousness. “Stop teasing. Pretend that I’m trying to find your Mr. Right and finish it. Now.”

“Pretend’s the key word, Sierra. Remember, this is for your eyes only.”

“Sure. Just a test run.”



Jami belatedly recalled that evasive tone when a week later Sierra announced a date match. “Date match? No way.” The aroma of baking chocolate chip cookies wafted through her kitchen as she stomped to the refrigerator, jerking it open.

“He’s the perfect guy for you,” Sierra coaxed, not a touch of shame in her voice.

“No computer date,” Jami grumbled, raking both hands from her throbbing temples up through her copper-red hair. She knew her nervous habit messed up her long wavy tresses and left funny peaks protruding like horns of hair, but she didn’t care. “You promised it wasn’t for real.”

“Come on, don’t be mad. It’ll be fun. Maybe you’ll even meet Mr. Right,” Sierra coaxed, sitting at the kitchen table reaching toward the plate of warm cookies in front of her.

“I can find my own Mr. Right.”

“Oh, sure. Like your ex-husband Doug? You don’t exactly have a great track record.”

Thoughts swirling, Jami turned her back on her friend while she poured two frosty glasses of lemonade. If possible, she’d eradicate her ex from her life and erase their whole disastrous marriage. Except for their son. She wouldn’t trade Toby for anything. She carried the lemonades over to the table and handed one glass to Sierra. “I was young and naïve.”

“You were twenty-one.”

“Twenty-one is young when you’re as naïve as I was,” Jami defended, hurt by the emotional hit.

“Sorry.” Looking abashed, Sierra toyed with her glass as she changed tactics. “Please, Jami, the future of CupidKey depends on this publicity campaign. That computer crash and website disaster about ruined us.”

“I know.” Jami stared down at the ice in her own glass, still fuming about by the below-the-belt remark, so unlike Sierra.

“Ty and I sank everything we have into our new business. He even convinced his brothers to invest. We need you.”

“Me? Why?”

“Without your help, we’re in trouble.” Sierra’s voice wavered.

“Doubt that.” Jami made the mistake of glancing up at her friend.

With tears glistening in her eyes, Sierra met her gaze, her lower lip trembling. “You know we tried to save money by not buying a brand new computer set-up and by building our own website. Instead, our ‘economy’ nearly cost us our business.”

“It was a disaster.” Jami rarely saw her normally sunny friend so downbeat, yet she couldn’t understand why Sierra needed her.

“Anyway,” Sierra continued, her shoulders drooping. “Now we finally have new computer equipment with a workable website up and functional, but the disaster cost us our original customers.”

“Rough way to start a business, but how does hooking me up help?”

“We’re desperate.” Sierra shook a finger at her. “It’s you or nobody.”

“Huh?”

“For real. Cooperate for my sake?”

“A date is the last thing I need right now. I don’t have the time or energy to deal with dating. I have all I can handle between work and Toby. Don’t ask this.”

“Come on, please?”

“Get someone else.”

“We can’t. It’s you.”

Sighing, Jami stared back at her friend, who had the same green-eyed, pixie appeal at twenty-eight as she’d had when they first met in Mrs. Ryder’s fourth grade class. In fact, the pleading in Sierra’s face had the same effect it always did. How many years had they been there for each other? Then eight years ago, Sierra had securely reinforced their bond of friendship when Jami’s parents were killed in an auto accident. She couldn’t have survived that nightmare ordeal without Sierra. Then again, when Jami’s world had crashed down upon her during her divorce, Sierra had held her up; been her strength, her support, and even made her laugh occasionally.

“There’s truly no one else. Please, we’re depending on you.”

“All right, if it’s that important.” Jami caved, though instinct warning her that she should refuse. Yet how she could deny her friend in need? “I guess I can handle one date.”

“Ah, it’s not quite that simple.” A ruddy blush crept upwards from Sierra’s pointed chin to her ebony hair, her voice rose an octave, and her long tapered fingers tightened around the glass. “It’s a bit more than a date.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a wonderfully romantic week at Frost Lake Lodge in the Rockies for you and your perfect match,” Sierra recited salesman pitch style.

“A week?” Jami clinked her glass onto the tabletop, lemonade sloshing out over the rim to drizzle down the sides and pool on the tablecloth.

“Yes.”

“Whatever for?” Jami felt certain her friend was weirding out.

“Our promotion.”

Sopping up the spill with a napkin, Jami never took her eyes off of Sierra. “I can’t leave Toby for a week.”

“Ty and I will pay for a babysitter.”

“You’re kidding.” Jami wadded up the soggy napkin and stomped across the kitchen to toss it in the garbage.

“Not kidding.”

“Good babysitters are rare enough. Who’s going to take care of my redheaded rascal that long?”

A sheepish expression crept over Sierra’s face. “Mrs. Porter?”

“No way. It would traumatize her to watch my son for two hours a day after school.” Jami stood behind the chair, her hands gripping the oak back. “Remember, Mrs. Porter’s past seventy? A week with Toby would kill the old dear.”

“Ty and I could take him. Ty’s been talking about starting a family.” Sierra glanced down at the table with embarrassment, as though she’d just admitted to sleeping in leather and handcuffs.

“Your husband will never want kids if he takes my adorable son for a week.” Jami raked her hands back through her hair. “And what about my shop? Who’ll run Dive-A-Wave?”

“You close the shop for lunch, don’t you?” Sierra asked as Jami nodded. “And you close nights, weekends, and holidays?”

“No biggie. Why?”

“Just close Dive-A-Wave while you’re gone.” Sierra drained the last of her lemonade and sat the glass on the table. “It’s not like you have customers beating down your door, is it?”

“True.” Never a hardcore businesswoman, Jami still felt uncertain about closing her shop for a week. Shaking her head, she paced back and forth across the checkered kitchen tile. “Is this whole thing necessary? Why not a simple date?”

“Ah, you remember that ad promotion where CupidKey promised to send a lucky computer-matched couple on a romantic trip?”

“Yes, a catchy campaign to launch your business.”

“Exactly. But our computer dating service is so new and then that setback resulted in losing our initial customers to other services.” Sierra shrugged in defeat. “Lost all suitable clients.”

“Then cancel the promotion.”

“We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“There’s a law that if a business offers a prize, it’s legally bound to present that prize.”

“So give the trip to someone else,” Jami retorted, twisting a lock of hair around her finger as she tried to ignore the desperate note in her friend’s voice.

“There isn’t anyone else.”

“Hasn’t anyone applied for a Cupid date since you got your replacement computer set-up?”

“A biker lady with a nose ring, platinum fuzz, and a full-body tattoo.” Sierra groaned. “I’m sure she’d be a real image-maker for our dating service.”

“Oh.” Jami’s mouth dropped open.

“Now you see the problem? We need a marketable couple for our ads.”

“Hmm, I have always wanted to see the Rocky Mountains.” Thoughts whirling, Jami spun around to face her friend. “I’ve never left Toby overnight. You guys will regret it.” Still, the tantalizing offer felt so tempting. “CupidKey is paying for the whole thing? You know I can’t afford it.”

“Cupid pays for everything. Ty worked us a deal.”

“I don’t know.” Jami felt herself wavering.

Sierra slyly added, “When was the last time someone offered you a free vacation?”

Or any vacation?

“It’ll be so peaceful and relaxing. You can drowse in the sun by a crystal blue lake, bird watch, or hike mountain trails. Whatever you want.”

“I can’t sun. You know I freckle.” Jami slid her hands up her arms, daydreaming of escaping Houston’s wool-blanket-heat to warm sunshine and pristine mountain breezes. She did like the idea of a mountain retreat and she hadn’t had a vacation in years. Besides, if Sierra needed some snapshots, what could it hurt?

“Please agree. I know you’ll love your Cupid match.”

“What if I don’t? A week is a long time to put up with a bad date.”

“Just pretend you enjoy each other for publicity shots.” Sierra’s dark brows peaked higher. “You don’t want to ruin our ad campaign, do you?”

“Me ruin your campaign?” Jami demanded. “You’re the one who tricked me into filling out that computer date questionnaire. I thought it was a dummy, not a real application. You programmed it into your dating service.”

“You ought to thank me.” Sierra’s voice rang with sincerity. “CupidKey is designed to select the perfect match. People pay a lot of money for a service like ours, and we’re finding Mr. Right for you free of charge.”

“I’m supposed to be grateful? I’ll probably hate him.”

“You won’t. He’s a real hunk.”

“You know him? Just who did that computer pair me with?”

“Ty’s brother, Grant.”

“What? A computer matched me with your brother-in-law? I don’t think so.”

“It did,” Sierra said in defense. “You have lots in common.”

“Like what?”

“Grant is a business consultant and you have a business.” Sierra ticked off the list on her fingers. “He likes kids—you have a kid. He likes to dance—you like to dance.”

“Three minor things?” Jami slung an arm over her face. “That dating form had a hundred questions.”

“I’m not through,” Sierra sniffed. “You like to cook—he likes to eat.”

Jami groaned.

“You have a scuba and diving shop—he enjoys diving. You enjoy dark chocolate—he enjoys it, too. You’re a woman and he enjoys women. A lot.”

Jami froze in horror. “A womanizer? You lined me up with a womanizer?”

Sierra stared wide-eyed at Jami. “Grant isn’t...”

“No way,” Jami ranted, exasperation surging through her as she cut off Sierra’s protest. “After Toby’s father cheated on me and destroyed our marriage, you know I vowed never to have anything to do with that kind of man again. Ever.”

“Grant is nothing like Doug. Your ex is a real jerk. But the Carrington brothers just naturally attract females. They’re irresistible.” A cloud-nine expression lit Sierra’s elfin face and her green eyes grew dreamy. “Ty has that same Carrington quality. I still can’t believe he chose me.”

“Oh, please.” Jami cleared the table and rinsed their lemonade glasses. “If you think I’m going to even consider a man who chases women.”

“I didn’t say Grant chases women. They chase him.”

“This is a bad idea.”

Obviously stricken, Sierra paled. “Please, Jami, you’re my best friend. You have to help me. Our whole business is riding on you.”

“I can’t,” Jami sputtered, certain she was doomed.

“It’s a law,” Sierra wailed. “We have to send a couple on the prize trip or face the consequences. What if Ty and I get sent to jail?”

“Jail?” Feeling like a traitor, Jami stared at her friend’s trembling mouth and teary eyes. How could she refuse? Yes, Sierra had always supported her even when others friends deserted her. Time to repay that friendship despite the reluctance thick in her chest. “Okay. I guess.”

“You’re the best!” Sierra threw her thin arms around Jami’s neck, hugging tightly. “I can’t ever thank you enough.”

“Yes, you can.”

“How?” She pulled back to gaze at Jami.

“No future matchmaking.”

“I promise.”

“Toby won’t appreciate me taking a vacation without him,” Jami said, half to herself as she imagined being separated from her dear little boy.

“It’ll be good for both of you.” Sierra smiled, sunshine breaking through clouds. “The Rockies are a perfect place for romance. You and Grant alone, without Toby.”

“Toby is part of me.”

“True, but you must admit the scamp has aborted several budding relationships with men,” Sierra reasoned with uncharacteristic logic.

“True, he doesn’t appreciate me dating.”

“See? A trip is perfect. The kid can’t do a thing to sabotage that.”

“Don’t underestimate my six-year-old darling. He’ll try.” Jami bit her bottom lip, tasting the waxy berry of her lip gloss. She’d never been apart from him a single night. “A week is a very long time.”

“Cheer up. He’ll stay safe with us here in Houston and you can relax.”

“I don’t know,” Jami began, wondering if there was another way and determined to check the cost of a child’s round-trip plane ticket to Denver.

“Don’t back out now,” Sierra pleaded, panic in her voice. “The future of CupidKey depends on you.”

“Talk about pressure.”

“You’ll have fun.”

“Yeah, right.” Jami took a deep breath. “So tell me about this lodge.”



Darting inside the Houston airport several steps behind her rambunctious boy, Jami pushed a lock of hair off her face and wondered at the wisdom of her choice to bring Toby along. Mother and son skidded to a stop with Sierra Carrington a short way behind them as they slowly moved forward in a winding luggage check line.

With an exasperated sigh, Jami gazed down at her child, who aimed a rubber suction-tipped, plastic arrow toward a crush of people and drew the bow. “Toby, no! You can’t shoot that here. You might hit someone.”

“I want to shoot somebody.” Toby’s round freckled face scrunched.

“No, you don’t. Arrows aren’t allowed at the airport. How did you sneak that into your backpack? We need to put it in one of the suitcases. Now.”

“Do it, tiger, before Security takes the bow and arrow from you,” Sierra crisply cautioned while Jami crouched down and began unlocking a suitcase.

“Nobody takes my weapon.” Toby glared at Sierra, who looked like a female elf with her shiny black cap of hair in a pixie-cut that fit her gamin face.

Jami bit her lip. Maybe she shouldn’t have allowed her friend to see them off, but this was Sierra’s deal and she was needed for an introduction to Grant Carrington. Besides, she couldn’t abandon her friend—Sierra had planned a publicity shot of Jami and her Cupid match as they met.

Unfortunately, a mutinous expression was settling over Toby from the set of his mouth to his stubborn body stance. This was not a good thing.

“We need to put your bow and arrow into the suitcase. Wait until we arrive at the lodge to shoot it, okay?” Jami touched Toby’s smooth cheek with a fingertip. Handful or not, he was so precious. Tears blurred her vision, her heart swelling with love as she gazed at her son. He was the only family she had left and she just couldn’t leave him behind for an entire week. “You wouldn’t want to lose your arrows before we even get there, would you?”

“I can’t believe you’re really taking him. You ought leave Toby like we planned,” Sierra scolded in direct conflict with Jami’s thoughts.

“Don’t go there,” Jami cautioned, aware of her son’s anxiety level rising.

“Let me take him to my place, instead. He’s got his stuff,” Sierra added, totally out of tune with the child’s panic as she ruffled Toby’s hair.

“Mom, don’t go without me,” Toby pleaded, a sob threatening his young voice. Bow and arrow clenched in his right hand, he grabbed her skirt with a chubby fist. “You promised you’d take me to the mountains with you.”

“You are coming with me,” Jami reassured him, miffed at her friend for upsetting Toby. When had he become so insecure? Couldn’t Sierra see that she was aggravating his insecurity? “Sierra, I meant what I told you last night. Toby accompanies me or I don’t go.”

“Grant’s not going to be happy about this.”

“You didn’t tell him?” Jami said, alarmed and surprised.

“No. I hoped you’d change your mind.” Sierra stood on tiptoe to scan the crowded airport lobby. “This is supposed to be a romantic getaway for you and your Cupid-selected, ideal mate.”

“Ideal mate? There’s no such thing,” Jami scoffed. “Besides, Toby and I are a team. If your brother-in-law objects—too bad.” She pressed her lips together, not realizing she mimicked her son’s pout.

“Mom, I’m going with you, right?”

“Hey!” Sierra suddenly hollered, staring past them, waving at someone in the crowd. “Jami, there’s your Mr. Right.”

Uncomfortably aware of how vulnerable Toby appeared, Jami ignored her friend to focus her full attention on her son. “Sweetie, I won’t leave you behind.” She gently unhooked his fingers from her dress, ruefully noting sticky chocolate prints marking the pink cotton. “Now put your bow and arrow away, please.”

“It’s not fair,” Toby grumped, his brown eyes bright with unshed tears that tore at her heart. “Robin Hood needs his weapon.”

Sierra waved both arms wildly. “Grant, over here!”

“Sorry,” Jami whispered to Toby, wishing they had just stayed home. Why had she let Sierra talk her into this?

“Jami,” Sierra’s excitement bubbled forth, “Grant is coming toward us. Smile and pretend you’re delighted. Play happy for the video.”

“Video? But my dress has chocolate smeared all over it,” Jami protested.

“Smile,” Sierra repeated. “Meet your Mr. Right.”

A plastic rubber-tipped arrow zinged past Jami’s left ear. She glanced up just as the arrow hit target. It stuck onto the forehead of a very handsome, very startled man, who halted mid-stride with his hand outstretched toward Jami.

So much for Cupid. Jami cringed. Toby-the-Terror had struck again.

Grant Carrington yanked the arrow off his forehead, the rubber tip releasing his skin with a pop. He held the arrow toward Toby. “This yours?”

Jami and her son stared at the white, red-rimmed target-like circle in the middle of her potential Mr. Right’s forehead. Toby gasped, and she wondered if the child would dash behind her.

Instead, he planted his small feet apart and faced the tall man who quickly closed the gap between them.

“I’m sorry,” Jami began, but the man cut her off.

“Did you shoot me?” Grant Carrington asked, his compelling gaze swiftly assessing Jami as she realized he was definitely blessed with striking Carrington genes.

“Well, no...”

“Then you’re not the one who owes me an apology.” Still holding the arrow, Grant targeted her child with a drill-sergeant glare.

Toby squirmed, but held his ground.

“Sorry, sir,” the child muttered, to her astonishment. Her son put apologies right up there with liver and spinach on his list of things to avoid.

“You know better than to shoot your bow and arrow in a public place, don’t you?” Grant Carrington continued, ignoring his sister-in-law, Sierra, who flitted around them like a distressed pixie.

“Yeah,” Toby whispered, his expression a combination of awe mingled with fear as he stared up at the man.

“Then I’m not the only one you owe an apology to, am I?” Grant drawled. Though his face remained impassive, Jami noted a smile twitch his lips.

And what lips! That sensually molded mouth distracted her for a moment into wondering how it would feel to be kissed by this broad-shouldered, tall Greek god of a man, who filled out an Armani suit to perfection. She shook away the tantalizing thought in time to see her son hesitate.

“Aw, gosh.” With a crooked grin, Toby stuffed his bow and arrow into the suitcase and zipped it shut. To Jami’s amazement, her rascal glanced from the towering man to her, saying, “Mom, I’m sorry.”

“Smile,” Sierra ordered with out-of-character force as she pushed Jami and Grant together. “Act delighted with each other.”


Grant shot his sister-in-law a scowl, but curved those sexy lips of his into a heart-stopping smile as he turned to face her.

Until that moment, Grant hadn’t been aware of the guy filming them. Ty had mentioned some publicity shots, but Grant had assumed his brother meant posed photographs. Nothing prepared him for a camcorder rolling before they even said hello.

Or for a bow and arrow attack by a carrot-topped miniature Robin Hood.

Or for this enticing beauty with doe eyes of tawny-gold and the face of an angel framed by a coppery cloud of hair. He had imagined his CupidKey date would be anything but lovely. Why else would the woman resort to a computer dating service? This friend of Sierra’s had no business investment in Cupid to protect, as he did. Or a baby brother to bail out of financial trouble.

“Jami Rhodes, meet Ty’s brother, Grant Carrington,” Sierra said, eyes glued to a shaggy cameraman instead of the couple she introduced.



“Hello, Grant,” Jami said, alarmed at the breathless sound of her voice. He did look like his brother, Ty. Only better. She gazed up into midnight blue eyes lit by appreciation as they raked over her face and form. Frissons of awareness tingled her fingers when his hand enclosed hers into a warm strong grip.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jami. You’re not what I expected at all.”

“Hmm, what do you mean?”

“Gosh.” Sierra skipped between them as a warbled boarding call was announced. “You’re up, your turn to check luggage.” She pushed Jami to the counter. “You don’t want to miss the plane.”

Grant lifted up the suitcases as Jami took care of business. When she finished, her son demanded her attention, almost tripping her as she tried to move away from the counter.

“Mom, don’t make me stay with Sierra,” Toby wailed, his freckled face puckering and his fists again grabbing her dress. “I want to go with you.”

“Honey, you are coming with me.” Jami tried hard to keep her own emotions in check as his bottom lip trembled. This separation anxiety and insecurity troubled her. When had it developed? He was normally such an independent child.

“The boy’s coming along?” Grant asked, his expression alarmed.

“Yes.”

Grant glared past Jami to his sister-in-law who danced around nervously. “Not my fault. I tried to change her mind.”

“This isn’t a kid’s vacation.” Grant’s gaze pinned Jami, making her feel like a trapped butterfly.

“Why not?” Jami pressed, trying to calm her racing pulse.

“Frost Lake Lodge might not even allow children,” Sierra chimed.

“They do.” Jami nodded her head. “I called and they said children are welcome and kids under twelve stay free. No problem.”

“No problem?” Grant scratched his chin, appearing perplexed and none too pleased. “You can phone the lodge, but no one bothers to warn me?”

“Warn you?” Jami exclaimed. “I don’t even know you.”

“Getting acquainted was the purpose of our Cupid trip. Sans children.”

The camera guy finished shooting, so Sierra skittered between them. “Come on, guys, you’re ruining everything. Do you have a clue how much editing this is going to take?”

“I can still go, can’t I?” Toby pleaded, tears sparkling his big brown eyes.

Jami bent and gave him a kiss. Cheek only, the way he preferred, then hugged him so tightly that both of them could barely breathe. He smelled like soap, bubblegum, and pure boy as he hiccupped back tears.

“Of course, honey,” Jami replied before turning to the adults. “This is a package deal. I won’t leave him behind.”

Grant’s left brow rose. “You won’t?”

“I won’t.”

She heaved the strap of her tote bag more firmly upon her shoulder and stood to face the handsome, intimidating man who was to be her Cupid companion. She chewed at her bottom lip, wondering whether to walk away and leave Sierra to deal with the fall-out.



Seeing Jami Rhodes’s distress and realizing that Ty and Sierra were depending on them for positive publicity, Grant regretted his swift objection, but he’d been taken aback that the child was accompanying them. Kids weren’t part of the bargain. Damn, he was a master negotiator—he ought to be able to handle a kid. He smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Hey, buddy, I’ll make you a deal.”

“What?” Toby asked suspiciously.

“Be on your best behavior, and I won’t hassle your mom to leave you here with Sierra.” Various expressions played over the child’s freckled face. As Grant watched the youngster, he heard Jami gasp. Was she as surprised at his statement as he was? He didn’t want a kid along, yet how could he resist those bright hopeful eyes? “You can come, if you’ll be good.”

“Okay.” Toby released his mom’s dress and teetered back and forth, toe to heel in his sneakers. “Guess so.”

With an exaggerated sigh of relief, Sierra took Toby’s hand and shooed Grant and Jami. “Try to make this romantic. Hold hands like this.” She swung hands with Toby who grimaced in disgust.

Trying not to laugh, Grant took Jami’s tote bag from her and shifted it to his left hand. “Let me get yours. My luggage is all checked.”

“Have fun.” Sierra gave Jami a quick hug, adding, “A photographer will meet you at the lodge for additional shots. Act delighted. Please?”

Grant captured Jami’s hand in his. Jami snared Toby’s hand, and the three of them hurried toward the escalator like a happy family.

“Quite a boy you have there,” Grant said, steering them around a senior citizen tour group armed with cameras and canes.

“You think?” Jami glanced up at Grant Carrington’s strong profile. “People don’t usually, ah, compliment me on my son.”

“He’s great.” Grant grinned down at her. “Reminds me of myself as a kid.”

“Toby tends to get into trouble sometimes.” Jami pretended not to notice as Grant’s thumb slid not-so-innocently over her palm, firing delightful tingles into her hand. The six-year-old in question hung back, straining her arm as he lagged behind to see everything around them.

“Sometimes?” Grant laughed a deep sexy chuckle. “All the time, I bet.”

“Well, yes,” Jami admitted. “But he’s really very sweet.”

A wicked grin curved Grant’s mouth. “Yeah, right.”

She tugged her hand free and glared up at him, her instincts as a protective single parent surging outward. “Don’t knock my son.”

“Easy. He’s cool. I allowed him to come with us. Right?” Grant shrugged toward Toby, who trailed behind them just enough to step onto the escalator last.

Jami reluctantly nodded.

“So drop the temper, Red.”

“Red?” Jami fumed at his broad-shouldered back as they rode up the escalator with him in the lead. Below them, from the lobby, the photographer took more shots when she glanced behind at Toby.

“Stop complaining and smile,” Grant warned, and half-turned toward her. “That guy’s still filming. You got the computer date you wanted and a free trip. Don’t blow the Cupid ad campaign for Ty and Sierra.”

“I wanted?” Jami demanded in a fierce whisper, trying to remember to smile at the same time. How dare this arrogant man imagine she wanted this date with him? “I’m doing this as a favor to Sierra.”

“Sure,” Grant drawled, eyeing her skeptically. “An all-expense-paid vacation for you as a favor to her? That’s hard to believe.”

“Believe it, Carrington.”

They stepped off the escalator and reached the security screening.

“Cool, like going into outer space,” Toby cried.



He snuck a glance at Mr. Carrington, hoping the guy wouldn’t cause problems for him or his mom. He and Mom didn’t need anybody but each other.



Jet engines rumbled, vibrating across the massive airliner as Jami tugged Toby along behind Grant toward their seats.

“We’re here,” Grant said, directing them to three seats on the right side of the narrow aisle.

“May I sit by the window? Please, Mom?” Toby begged, his freckled face alight with excitement.

Jami glanced at Grant. He nodded, a smile curving those wicked lips of his. “Sure.”

“Great.” Toby scooted into the seat by the thick airplane window. That left Jami no choice but to take the middle seat. She leaned toward her son to help him unstrap his backpack and slide it off onto his lap. “Please put your backpack under the seat, Toby.”

“Here, I’ll stash the bags away.” Grant whipped the pack out of Toby’s hands and crammed it, along with Jami’s tote, into the overhead compartment.

“Thanks, mister,” Toby said with a lopsided grin.

“Call me Grant.”

“Sure,” the boy agreed, eyes glowing as he tested the name, “Grant.”

“I wanted my tote,” Jami grumbled as Grant settled his big, powerful body into the seat beside her.

“Why? It’s easier to stash now. You still have your handbag.” Grant awkwardly folded his long legs, trying to fit them in the not-generous-enough space between the seats.

“That’s not the point,” Jami said quietly as Toby stared out the window, completely absorbed in watching gray-uniformed personnel load luggage. “You might have asked if I needed my tote before you stuck it out of my reach.”

Grant’s gaze seemed to shoot straight through her. Even in the plane’s garish artificial light, she was mesmerized by the velvety midnight blue of his eyes. His pupils flared inky black as she stared at him. Her breath caught. She’d never seen a man with such beautiful eyes. She found herself unable to look away until he spoke again, breaking the spell. “I can get it down for you when you want it. Do you need it now?”

“No. I guess not.” Jami quickly turned away and busied herself buckling her son’s seatbelt. Toby wiggled as she drew the belt over his tummy and snapped it securely.

“That’s no place to keep your boarding passes.” Grant plucked the protruding ticket packet from the side slot of Jami’s handbag. “You’ll never make it back home if you lose your return tickets.”

“Hey.” Jami tried to snatch the tickets back. “Give me those.”

“No. I’ll take care of them.”

“You can’t take charge of us, even if you are related to Sierra.” Jami whispered to keep Toby from hearing. Not difficult since her son avidly gazed out the thick glass toward a huge silver plane parked next to theirs and the luggage crew scrambling on the tarmac below.

“I am in charge, so relax,” Grant smoothly admonished, adding his ticket to the two he had lifted from Jami.

“Not of me,” she countered, “or my son.”

“Temper, Red.” The infuriating man chuckled, amusement lighting his dark blue eyes. “If you’re any kind of friend to Sierra, try to act happy, Jami Rhodes.” Grant leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead. “We never know when our photograph’s being taken.”

“Cut that out.”

“What?” Toby asked, his attention diverting to them.

“Nothing,” Jami muttered.

“Ah.” Grant clasped his hands together. “Another crisis averted.”

Recognizing his subtle sarcasm, Jami chose to ignore it, instead letting her thoughts wander. She hated the way Grant Carrington stirred her emotions. Emotions she had suppressed for five long years—since the day she had left Doug. Raw memories still ripped at her confidence and ricocheted misery through her as she recalled that horrible afternoon when she had returned home early.

Jami closed her eyes, gritting her teeth against old wounds, denying the tears pricking at her eyelids. As she had entered their one bedroom apartment, she had heard Toby in his crib crying and rushed into the bedroom. There, she found Doug in bed with their twenty-year-old babysitter. The memory stabbed so vividly, a pained gasp escaped Jami’s lips.

“Let me help you,” Grant said, his strong fingers intimately moving over hers, startling Jami into the realization that she’d been fumbling with the catch on her own seatbelt for several minutes.

She jerked her fingers from his as if stung. “I can do it.”

Her buckle clicked into place, while Grant gazed at her in puzzlement. “What’s with you? I’m not some evil beast ready to devour you.”

Jami stared at the man beside her. He probably had a string of conquests and expected to add her to the list. The way Doug had. She trembled, remembering the heartbreak she had felt upon discovering the babysitter was just one of the many affairs her husband had had during their brief marriage. Well, she’d never repeat that mistake again.

“Are you cold, or scared of flying?”

“Neither.” She felt embarrassed as she read concern, not ridicule, in Grant’s expression.

“The plane’s about to take off.” He studied her face. “Will you be all right?”

“Fine. I’m not afraid of flying or the takeoff.”

He leaned so close, she inhaled the scent of his expensive aftershave and could feel his warm, minty breath on her cheek. Her insides somersaulted at his sheer male attack on her senses as she heard the roar of the jet engines escalate. “I hope Toby won’t be scared.”

“Your kid’s doing great. He’ll be fascinated to watch the world miniaturize and drop away.” Grant cinched his own seatbelt. “Has he flown before?”

“When he was a baby,” Jami replied as the airliner rolled, then raced to a thundering liftoff while Toby stayed glued to the window.

“Wow, Mom, this is cool.”

“It is.” Jami smiled, glad she’d brought him along. It was a good idea, no matter what anyone said. She felt a change in pressure as the plane banked and then leveled. The seatbelt signed pinged off.

“Have you been to the Rockies before?” Grant asked.

“I really haven’t traveled out of Texas much.”

“Then it’s about time you did.”

Ignoring the bait, Jami fussed over Toby for a moment, then stole a side-glance at the magnificent profile of her Cupid match. How did he stir her emotions so easily? All kinds of emotions. She couldn’t wait until this plane ride was over. She couldn’t wait until this trip was over. She didn’t dare spend a week alone with Grant Carrington.

She’d been immune to men since her divorce. Until now. Admittedly, Grant was a sexy hunk, whose ultra-civilized designer suit couldn’t mask the uncivilized edge of the man beneath. Or hide the raw masculinity of the long, lanky Texan. His hair was a sun-streaked, dark, burnished gold. And his uncompromising square jaw proclaimed the arrogant, take-charge personality Jami so resented; yet he had easy charm at the same time.

With a flick of his midnight gaze, he caught her scrutiny. She grabbed a magazine from the pocket in the seat ahead and pretended sudden interest. Yes, she reflected as her heart thumped erratically, she needed her child to shield her from this alarming attraction to Lady Killer Carrington.