Bridegroom On Her Doorstep. Renee Roszel

Bridegroom On Her Doorstep - Renee Roszel


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than a month to find, and marry, an appropriate husband. I don’t need some hulking hired hand stomping all over my timetable in his size-twelve boots!” She looked at her assistant, a stocky, curly top, ex-marine. “I might have to sic you on him, Tuttle.”

      Ruthie gave a quick, surprised laugh. “He’s pretty big, boss. I’ll need more marines.” She pressed her lips together and frowned as though having a dark thought. “Or I could call my in-laws to come on down and join us. They could chase anybody away.” She grinned wryly. “Case in point, if my mother and father-in-law—or as I like to refer to them, the Wicked Witch of Wichita Falls and Toad-man—hadn’t decided to invade the happy Tuttle abode for an extended visit, you’d never have talked me into taking three whole weeks away from Ray and the kids.” She shook her head and eyed heaven. “Considering the thousands of my-son-could-have-done-much-better glares you saved me from suffering through, boss, I owe you big.”

      Jen unclenched a fist from the wheel and patted her assistant’s arm. “Let’s call it even, Ruthie. I need your ability to keep a schedule and a confidence.” She took a quick scan of the place, on the secluded stretch of beach. “Considering we’re so isolated here, and considering I’ll practically be propositioning a steady stream of single, heterosexual men, I might need your proficiency in the martial arts.” Jen unlatched her door and stepped onto the gravel drive. “Speaking of men, I’m going to find out what’s what with that painter.” She slammed the car door and marched across the lawn toward her quarry.

      Concentrating on the tall stranger who seemed oblivious to the fact that she’d driven up, Jen tromped toward him. As she stormed along the lawn, she hardly noticed the two-story brick house with its white trim, or the window boxes brimming with red geraniums. She tramped past a white cottage trimmed in blue, off to her left. More window boxes, overflowing with vivid reds, yellows and greens, went virtually unseen.

      Jen was by nature a positive, confident and logical person. At the moment, however, she was less than her usual efficient self. She was on a tight timetable and more than a little angry. She would not be passed over for the promotion she deserved! Not this time! The tang of the sea rode in on the breeze but went virtually unnoted. Jen’s senses were wholly focused on the all-important task ahead of her. It was going to be difficult enough to do what she had to do without an audience. Ruthie could be trusted, but the stranger was a major question mark.

      A six-and-a-half-foot-tall question mark!

      Tension intensified her hostility for this outsider who dared intrude on her secret itinerary. It was bad enough that Ruthie had to know. Putting up with her sidelong looks of disapproval was plenty to deal with. She didn’t need some stranger blundering around in her private business. She didn’t think she could cope with one more person looking at her like she was a fool or worse—crazy.

      It was nobody’s business how she found a mate but her own! She’d trusted her heart once and fallen madly in love with…

      Tony.

      She stumbled at the recollection, but caught herself. Even after four years it still hurt just to think his name.

      Tony Lund had been hired at Dallas Accounting Associates as her immediate superior. From the first time the elevator doors opened and he’d stepped onto her floor, she had been lost. He was handsome, suave, brilliant, with a mystical way of knowing exactly what to say to make her feel wonderful. Even his casual smiles as they passed in the hallway sent her into fits of dizzy euphoria.

      It had taken six months for Jen to catch Tony’s eye—as a woman rather than a mere work colleague. That magical moment had come at the company Christmas party. She’d taken excessive pains with her clothes, at last dressing for a man rather than for success. She’d had her hair restyled and highlighted and devoured makeup hints in slick women’s magazines. Before Tony she’d been completely preoccupied with her career; suddenly she found herself giddily playing all the feminine games to get Tony to notice her. By Christmas he had a reputation for being a lady’s man, but Jen hated gossip and ignored the stories.

      New Year’s Eve had been their first official date. Tony was the epitome of gentlemanly, and was worldly enough to sense her reticence at moving too quickly to intimacy. After all, he was her boss, though there were no strict rules against dating a co-worker. Jen loved her job, or had loved it until a newer, brighter love swept into her life.

      Tony.

      Even with her concern about getting physically involved too quickly, one month after they’d begun to date, Tony confessed his love for her. Though ultra-conservative and cautious, Jen was on the brink of giving up everything for him that she’d held so dear—her career and her virginity.

      Feeling cherished and desired, Jen dwelled in a perpetual pink haze of love. All she wanted in the world was to be Tony’s wife and the mother of his children.

      On Valentine’s Day, Jen had been the happiest woman in Texas. Wearing a new dress she could hardly afford, she felt like a giddy teenager. She’d been ready for Tony to pick her up for what she knew would be a romantic, life-changing evening, when the phone rang.

      It was her mother, tearfully calling from a Fort Worth hospital. Jen’s favorite Aunt Crystal had been in a car accident and was in a critical condition. Rushing to the hospital, distraught and in tears, Jen caught Tony on his cell phone and canceled their date. He’d offered to come to the hospital, but she’d told him it wasn’t necessary.

      That Valentine’s Day ended tragically when Jen’s aunt passed away. Deep in the night, broken up with grief, Jen found herself driving back to Dallas toward Tony’s apartment, needing his comfort and closeness. She had made the decision to give him her most precious gift, her unqualified, physical love—an affirmation of life. She would be his completely, and he would be hers—lovers, soul mates, forever.

      When he met her at the door, she knew immediately something wasn’t right. Bare-chested, in black, silk pajama bottoms, he smiled that magical smile. Even bleary with sleep he was godlike in his perfection. Yet, something in his eyes frightened her. Intuition made her brush past him and head for his bedroom, dreading what she would find.

      When Jen burst into the room, another woman sat up in bed, fumbling to cover her bare breasts. As the two women stared at each other, Tony grabbed Jen’s arm, whispering it didn’t mean anything. “It just happened,” he’d said, his expression more sheepish than repentant, as though suggesting that these overnight seductions were of no consequence.

      She recalled so vividly, with such stark pain, how he’d swung her into his arms, managing somehow to cleverly maneuver her out of the bedroom and close the door. How smooth he was, even caught flagrante delicto!

      He’d murmured that he loved her and that “It was only sex,” all the time smiling and softly cajoling, his tongue in her ear. What a resilient cheat he was!

      In a twilight world of the brokenhearted, she had stood there, crushed. The man she’d almost given herself to was cleverly and cold-bloodedly plying his wiles while a casual sexual conquest lay in his bed on the other side of a door, wholly forgotten.

      She pushed away from him, staring in disgust and disbelief at his perplexed expression. He didn’t even have the decency to recognize his betrayal. Her heart had gone down, literally sank as she grieved to the depths of her soul. She had been so irrationally in love she’d allowed herself to be blinded to his lies, evasions, infidelities, no matter how often her friends had tried to warn her.

      That night Jen endured two very painful deaths—a beloved member of her family, and her desire to ever again be caught up in the thick, mind-clogging pink fog called love! She had been out of control once, and it shattered her. Never again!

      Tony had the nerve to call her several times after that, his silver-tongued vows of devotion seemingly ardent and heartfelt. Though Jen suffered the tortures of the damned, she resisted falling for his sly charm. Two endless months passed. Months of enduring his presence at work, his casual touches and melting looks, those warm, hazel eyes—eyes that softly tempted, promising never to lie, even as they lied. Eyes that could drive a sane woman mad and turn an intelligent one into


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