Marriage On The Cards. Susan Carlisle

       Chapter One

      Mackenzie Brand parallel parked her 1960 Chevy sedan and shut off the engine. She leaned against the steering wheel and looked through the windshield at the swanky condos that lined Mission Beach, California. She checked the address that her cousin, Jordan, had given her and matched it with the address on the white, trilevel condo on the left. With a sigh, she unbuckled her seat belt and slipped the key out of the ignition.

      “All right. Not exactly your crowd. But a job’s a job and a favor’s a favor.” Mackenzie got out of her car, locked the door and dropped the keys into her Go Green recycling tote bag. She could hear a mixture of classic rock, loud talking and laughing as she walked quickly to the front door. It sounded like the Valentine’s Day party that Jordan was throwing with her fiancé, Ian, was already in full swing.

      Mackenzie rang the doorbell twice and then knocked on the door. While she waited, she stared down at her holey black Converse sneakers. They had passed shabby chic several months ago—definitely time to get a new pair. After a few minutes spent contemplating her pitiful tennis shoes, Mackenzie pressed the doorbell again. When no one opened the door, Mackenzie turned around to head to the beach side of the condo. She was about to step down the first step when she heard the door open.

      “Hey!” Dylan Axel swung the front door open wide. “Where’re you going?”

      Dylan’s voice, a voice Mackenzie hadn’t heard in a very long time, reverberated up her spine like an old forgotten song. Mackenzie simultaneously twisted her torso toward Dylan while taking a surprised step back. Her eyes locked with his for a split second before she lost her balance and began to fall backward.

      “Hey...” Dylan saw the pretty brunette at his door begin to fall. He sprang forward and grabbed one of her flailing arms. “Careful!”

      Silent and wide-eyed, Mackenzie clutched the front of Dylan’s shirt to steady herself. Dylan pulled her body toward his and for a second or two, she was acutely aware of everything about the man: the soapy scent of his skin, the strong, controlled grasp of his fingers on her arm, the dark chest hair visible just above the top button of his designer shirt.

      “Are you okay?” Dylan asked. He didn’t know who she was, but she smelled like a sugar cookie and had beautiful Elizabeth Taylor eyes.

      If he hadn’t caught her, she would have fallen for sure. Could have seriously injured herself. And Mackenzie’s body knew it. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her skin felt prickly and hot, and her equilibrium