One-Night Man

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by Jeanie London


  Raising her gavel, Auntie Q sounded positively rapturous as she said, "Seventeen thousand going once...going twice...sold to the lovely romance writer in the last row."

  The gavel hit hard, sealing the deal, and Josh made his way off the stage, hindered from clearing the aisle by swarms of well-wishers who patted his back and shook his hand.

  For keeps.

  And while he worked his way through the crowd, Lennon sat in her seat, frozen, not daring to believe what had just happened, barely able to breathe until she saw Josh up close and confirmed that he truly meant for keeps.

  Davinia held her hand, apparently recognizing her shock, and by the time Josh finally reclaimed his seat, Lennon's pulse raced so hard, she barely managed to sit still.

  His grandmother greeted him with a tight smile, but his father reached over to shake his hand.

  "Well done," he said.

  Josh only nodded, his gaze capturing Lennon's, those deep green eyes mirroring all the love she felt bubbling up inside her.

  For keeps.

  "You'll make me crazy for the rest of my life."

  Josh grinned that romance hero smile, making her heartbeat flutter madly and her insides melt, and said, "Yes, I will."

  Epilogue

  "MIRACLE OF MIRACLES, Joshua," Quinevere silently whispered with a glance upward at the last slices of gorgeous blue sky fading into twilight. "Not only was Regina in the mood to throw a party, but she has managed to throw a good one."

  She smiled. It had been the perfect day and she was glad for a quiet moment to share with the man she loved. "We used to talk about bringing Josh and Lennon together for a grand passion, but after Josh went away it didn't seem likely we'd ever realize that dream." Her gaze misted as she watched her great-niece dance with her new husband over the lush green lawn, looking as though they might have stepped out of the pages of one of Lennon's books. "Look at them, my love. We accomplished so many wonderful things in our life together, but they're our greatest work of art."She sighed softly. "I don't use the term 'ours' loosely, either, because I know you were up there helping me every step of the way. And those fireworks," she said with a low whistle. "A stroke of brilliance."

  Quinevere could almost hear Joshua chuckle in response. He'd always had a dry sense of humor, not unlike his grandson's, and she missed his rich laughter, looked forward to the day when she would hear it again. Until then, though, she had a lot of living to do.

  As far as Quinevere was concerned living was synonymous with celebrating.

  From her place on the sheltered veranda, where she sipped a champagne spritzer and sought temporary respite from the summer heat the dusk had yet to cool, Quinevere gazed out over the manicured lawn at the guests who were dancing to the last of the daylight before the reception moved indoors for a formal dinner, more dancing and a host of traditional wedding festivities.

  Though she would have enjoyed opening her home, another stately Garden District mansion only five blocks away, for the first time since Joshua's death, Quinevere had decided she'd have plenty of time to throw the newlyweds parties.

  While this occasion was about two people falling in love and deciding to share their lives together, it was also about Josh coming home to his family, and as such, the Eastman mansion was the perfect place for the wedding.

  Besides, with all the prewedding activities, showers, rehearsals and such, Regina had had a great deal of adjusting to do. While she'd managed admirably, Quinevere didn't think it wise to tempt fate--and asking her to step foot inside the McDarby mansion just might push the woman right over the edge.

  They'd tackle that particular obstacle another day. Now was the time to celebrate, and that's exactly what the guests were doing. Photographers from two well-known romance trade magazines moved through the crowd, merrily snapping pictures of what they called a real-life romance--no doubt a marketing move by Lennon's publishing house to sell more books--but Quinevere agreed wholly with the premise.

  Josh may have technically resembled Lennon's Georgian spy, but Quinevere would always think of him as a swashbuckling pirate, although he'd long since abandoned his ponytail for a neatly trimmed style that made him favor his grandfather more than ever.

  And Lennon... Misty tears swelled in Quinevere's eyes as she gazed at her great-niece, at the color in her cheeks, that beaming smile on her face. She was simply exquisite in a white silk and lace creation reminiscent of Scarlett O'Hara.

  And she hadn't been the only one thinking along the lines of old Southern charm, either. Lennon's editor, a lovely young woman named Ellen, had suggested Lennon try her hand at spinning a love story set in the Deep South.

  A native of the cold, cold North, Ellen had been captivated by New Orleans's sleepy charm, and Quinevere had already convinced her to extend her trip a few days so Olaf could take them to tour the area's historic plantations while Lennon and Josh honeymooned in the South Pacific.

  Of course, Quinevere hadn't mentioned that she just happened to know a very handsome young man from an up-standing family who managed one of the plantations for a holding company based in the very same cold city Ellen lived in.

  No, she'd save that tidbit for later, although she thought Lennon already suspected what she was up to. But her great-niece hadn't taken her to task. No, she'd simply smiled, gazed adoringly up at her handsome new husband and told Ellen to have fun.

  Lennon was obviously well pleased with how her love life had shaped up, and had every confidence that her Auntie Q would take good care of her friend. And she would. With a little divine assistance from Joshua, of course.

  Quinevere gazed down at the new Mr. and Mrs. Joshua Eastman III, dancing, whispering intimately and clearly enjoying the celebration of their love with friends, and said, "Don't you think everyone should be as gloriously happy as we were, Joshua?"

  Ah, l'amour.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-8245-6ONE-NIGHT MAN

  Copyright (c) 2002 by Jeanie LeGendre.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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