The reviewers love
JANET CHAPMAN
THE STRANGER IN HER BED
“A thoroughly enjoyable tale of a modern-day knight and his feisty ladylove set in the rugged mountains of Maine.”
—Booklist
“More hot passion and danger in the wilds of Maine.”
—Romantic Times
THE SEDUCTION OF HIS WIFE
“A charming story of love, growth and trust.”
—Romantic Times
“Chapman presents a cast of rugged characters in rural Maine who enact a surprisingly tender romance.”
—Booklist
THE DANGEROUS PROTECTOR
“One thing that Chapman does so deftly is meld great characterization, sparkling humor and spicy adventure into a perfect blend.”
—Romantic Times
THE SEDUCTIVE IMPOSTOR
“Chapman’s skills as a storyteller just keep getting better. Utilizing warmth and humor, she makes this thrilling romantic tale both funny and scary. Great reading.”
—Romantic Times
“One of the best books I’ve read in a long time…. A fun, sexy read!”
—Old Book Barn Gazette
“Engaging romantic suspense…surprising twists…Janet Chapman seduces her audience.”
—The Best Reviews
SECRETS OF THE HIGHLANDER
“Liberally spiced with mystery, this story has warmth and genuine love that make it the perfect antidote for stress.”
—Romantic Times
ONLY WITH A HIGHLANDER
“A mystical, magical book if there ever was one…. A perfect 10!”
—Romance Reviews Today
“This time-traveling Highlander series has been a pure joy to read, and this book is no exception. Chapman’s amazing ability to meld rich characterization with passion and romantic adventure is unmatched and unforgettable.”
—Romantic Times
“A powerful entry in a fine romantic fantasy series.”
—The Best Reviews
“An excellent addition to her entertaining Highlander series.”
—Booklist
TEMPTING THE HIGHLANDER
“Chapman breathes such life and warmth into her characters, each story is impossible to put down.
—Romantic Times
“A wonderful addition to Chapman’s Highlander [series].”
—Booklist
WEDDING THE HIGHLANDER
“A series that just keeps getting better, but Janet Chapman accomplishes this with her Highlander books. This is her most emotional, touching and powerful novel to date.”
—Romantic Times
“Exciting…Janet Chapman writes a refreshingly entertaining novel.”—The Best Reviews
LOVING THE HIGHLANDER
“Janet Chapman has hit another home run with Loving the Highlander. It’s a fresh take on time travel, with both humor and drama. She’s a keeper.”
—Linda Howard
“The characters are lively, intriguing and full of passion.”
—Romantic Times
CHARMING THE HIGHLANDER
“Splendid. We can expect great things from Chapman.”
—The Oakland Press
“Time travel, tragedy, temptation, along with desire, destiny, devotion, and, of course, true love, are all woven into Janet Chapman’s romance.”
—Bangor Daily News
“Terrific…. A real gem of a story!”
—Romantic Times
ALSO BY JANET CHAPMAN
Secrets of the Highlander
The Stranger in Her Bed
The Seduction of His Wife
Only with a Highlander
The Dangerous Protector
Tempting the Highlander
The Seductive Impostor
Wedding the Highlander
Loving the Highlander
Charming the Highlander
Available from Pocket Books
Pocket Star Books
A Division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10020
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2008 by Janet Chapman
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
POCKET STAR BOOKS and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
ISBN-13: 978-1-4165-9400-0
ISBN-10: 1-4165-9400-0
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To Abigail
Prepare yourself, baby girl, for life in a family of over-protective men who love you beyond words.
(Just bat your baby-blues at them, and I
promise they’ll be yours to command)
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
Letter from Lake Watch
Chapter One
Sam Sinclair stood beside Tidewater International’s reception desk, waiting for the elevator to reach the thirtieth floor. The bell finally pinged, and whatever expectations Sam had, the woman revealed by the opening doors was…she was…
Good Lord, Abram had sent them a partridge!
Her hair, which had probably started out as a neat bun, was disassembling around her face. Though she couldn’t be a day older than thirty, the shapeless brown suit she was wearing was more appropriate for someone twice her age. Half of her blouse hung out below the jacket. Both of her stockings had runs, the overnight bag at her feet the likely culprit. The woman truly resembled a partridge, her plain brown feathers rumpled and sadly outdated.
She looked exactly like a Willamina.
Frozen in shock, Sam watched as her monstrous purse fell into the lobby when she bent down to pick up her yellow overnight bag. She scrambled out of the elevator with a muttered curse, unsteady on two-inch heels, and retrieved her purse just as the elevator doors closed.
Her overnight bag was still inside.
The straps to it, however, were in her hand.
Instead of the doors reopening as they should have, the elevator softly pinged again, and the handles rose up along the crack in the doors. They stopped at the top, the woman frantically tugging on them. Sam heard the unmistakable sound of cloth ripping, and Willamina Kent fell to the floor with a yelp of surprise, the handles of her bag still in her hands.
Several people in the decidedly stunned audience finally rushed over to help her, and the floor beneath Sam’s feet shifted at the sight of the warm, shy, sincere smile she bestowed on her rescuers.
God help them, they’d been invaded by an angelic frump.
This was not what they needed right now. The shareholders meeting today, to decide the new CEO of Tidewater International, was going to be a circus.
And it was all Bram’s fault.
&n
bsp; Abram Sinclair had sent a terse cable from Maine that morning, stating that he was sending Willamina Kent in his stead. Miss Kent held Bram’s proxy vote, which would decide who would be succeeding him as chief executive officer.
His grandfather had entrusted the fate of a multibillion-dollar business to a woman who couldn’t even exit an elevator without causing an uproar?
Several Tidewater employees were gathered around her as Miss Kent zealously explained the absurd chain of events that had ended with the bag-eating elevator. Sam edged closer.
“I flew in on one of those commuter prop planes. My seat was right between those huge propellers,” she explained, tugging her ear, “and now my ears won’t stop ringing. You’d think they would have put the airport closer to the city, too. The cab ride was nearly two hours! Heck, I could have rented a car for the fare I paid.”
Ten to one, the cabbie also had found Willamina Kent a plump partridge and had given her the scenic tour. What was usually a mere hour’s drive in midday traffic could take nearly two hours if the victim didn’t know her way around Manhattan.
“Miss Kent,” Sam said, moving forward and grasping her elbow. “The meeting is ready to begin, if you are.” He ignored her subtle tug for freedom.
“But my luggage…”
“Someone will retrieve it for you,” he promised, looking at one of the men. “And have maintenance see why the elevator doors didn’t reopen,” he added, then turned to lead her down the hall.
Sam had to stop when she stumbled. She looked up with intense, curious eyes of an indescribable color. They looked gray at first glance, or maybe blue. They were definitely arresting.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Sam Sinclair.” He dropped his gaze to frown at her shoes, which didn’t match her suit. Her skirt and jacket were brown. Her shoes were green. And they looked too big for her feet.
“Abram’s grandson,” she said.
It wasn’t a question. Sam forced a tight smile. “His oldest grandson.”
“How do you know who I am?” she asked, giving him a pleased, expectant look.
“A lucky guess,” he muttered, once again towing her toward the boardroom, though he did shorten his stride.
“The meeting’s starting now? But I’m not…I need…”
Her voice trailed off as she gave her hair a useless pat, straightened her shoulders, and took a deep breath. Sam hid an involuntary smile. Miss Kent looked like a Christian preparing to enter the Colosseum—which was probably exactly how she felt. The boardroom would be filled with lions today, three of whom where vying for the CEO position. And Sam was one of them.
“We’ve already held the meeting back an hour,” he told her as he pushed open the door to the inner sanctum of Tidewater.
“Oh. I’m sorry,” she whispered, her cheeks flushing a warm pink. “The ride in from the airport was longer than I’d anticipated.”
“Had you contacted us with your arrival time, we would have sent the helicopter for you.”
“A helicopter,” she repeated, sounding intrigued, then gave him a brilliant smile. “I bet it wouldn’t have taken me two hours to get here.”
He attempted to lead her into the boardroom again. “More like twenty minutes.”
She pulled to a stop and peeked inside. Conversations ceased, and all heads turned toward the door. Miss Kent took a step back. “If they’ve waited this long, they can wait another five minutes. Tell me where the powder room is, please,” she demanded, tugging on her elbow again.
Sam turned back into the hall and directed her three doors down. “Five minutes, Miss Kent, and then we start without you,” he warned, finally releasing her.
She gave him a smug smile and walked to the bathroom. “Feel free. But you won’t be finishing without me,” she shot back, disappearing inside.
Sam scowled. Damn his grandfather. He held the reins to Tidewater; he should be there. Where was he? In Maine?
Bram had disappeared six weeks ago. He hadn’t told anyone he was leaving and had barely contacted anyone since. The eighty-five-year-old had simply up and vanished into thin air. Once a week for the last six weeks, messages had appeared on an office computer telling everyone that yes, he was still alive, not to worry.
Bram was a wily old wolf. He had complained loud and long about the computerization of his company, but he was not above using the technology to his advantage. Even Tidewater’s computer gurus hadn’t been able to trace the origin of his messages.
Sam could only guess why his grandfather had disappeared like a thief in the night. It couldn’t be easy to step down as head of the company he’d built from scratch with blood, sweat, brain, and guts. Bram obviously hated to relinquish control, though he likely hated growing old even more—a fact that had been resonating with all of them since Grammy Rose had died five years ago.
Sam walked into the boardroom and stood at the head of the table and waited. The twenty or so members of the board quietly took their seats and also waited in silence. Ten minutes later, the large door opened, and Miss Kent walked in, still looking frumpy despite her obvious primping.
Her light brown hair had been brushed out and was gathered in a clip to trail down her back in soft, wavy curls. Her face had been scrubbed clean and glowed with softly tanned freshness. Her shirt was tucked into her skirt, but she still looked more like a child playing dress-up than a woman about to alter the course of an international shipping conglomerate.
“Thank you all for being so patient,” she said, walking to the large table. She looked at Sam. “Where should I sit?”
He indicated a seat to his right. The man beside it pulled out her chair.
“Thank you,” she told him. As she sat down, she dropped her monstrous purse on the table and immediately started rummaging around in it.
With barely controlled patience, then with growing amazement, Sam watched, along with everyone else, as Miss Kent pulled out the broken straps of her suitcase and set them on the table. Then came an overstuffed wallet, a ring of keys that could sink a cargo ship, three packets of airline peanuts, a packet of tissues, an address book, and a candy bar that was squished beyond recognition. She began to mutter softly, her words lost in the cavern of her purse.
Out came a personal radio and earphones. More tissues. A romance novel, the corners curled, the spine broken, with a pen acting as a bookmark. An eyeglasses case. Finally, a folded mess of papers appeared in her hand.
With a sheepish smile directed at no one in particular, Miss Kent unfolded the papers and pulled one page free, then pushed it toward Sam.
“My letter of proxy.” She glanced around the table, then stood up. “I should introduce myself. I’m Willamina Kent, a friend of Abram’s. He’s asked me to come here today to vote in his stead.” She smiled at everyone, then turned expectantly to Sam. “You may begin now,” she softly instructed as she took her seat and began stuffing everything back into her purse.
“Thank you,” he drawled, picking up the paper and scanning it. Bram had given Miss Kent his proxy, all right. His distinct signature sprawled boldly across the bottom of the notarized paper. Sam narrowed his eyes and read the handwritten note in the right margin: You boys be nice to the lady.
Biting back a smile, Sam opened the meeting, telling the board members what they already knew: Abram Sinclair was tired and unable to run the business anymore. Hell, he should have stepped down ten years ago. Sheer stubbornness had gotten him this far, but age had finally caught up with Bram, and Tidewater needed a new CEO.
“Then where is Abram? Why isn’t he passing on the reins himself?” one of the members asked with a frown at Miss Kent.
Miss Kent raised her chin. “He’s still on vacation. I’m to vote in his place.”
“But where the hell is he?” Benjamin Sinclair demanded.
Ben was the middle Sinclair brother, and he also wanted the CEO position. He’d been groomed for it, just as Sam had, as well as their younger brother, Jesse. All three were there
today, each hoping to persuade the board that he was the best man for the job—even though Miss Kent would have the deciding vote.
Or, rather, Bram’s vote, with Miss Kent giving it.
“He’s in Maine,” she told Ben.
“That certainly pins him down,” Ben drawled. “Where in Maine?”
“He asked me not to say.”
“How do we know Bram is even alive?” another board member asked, glaring at Willamina.
Sam interceded before she could answer. “Bram sent a cable this morning, telling us Miss Kent would be coming in his place.”
“How do we know he sent the cable?”
“He did,” Sam assured him. “There’s no mistaking Bram’s voice in the words. Now, shall we begin?” He turned to the partridge. “Miss Kent. There are three of us in contention for the CEO position. Myself, my brother Benjamin,” he offered, nodding to Ben, who nodded to her. “And our brother Jesse.”
She smiled at each of them.
“As Bram probably explained to you, the CEO position needs to be filled, at least temporarily until he can decide what he wants to do with Tidewater,” Sam explained. “I gather he’s taken this little vacation to think about just that. Meanwhile, Tidewater is without definitive leadership.”
She nodded, her expression intent.
“Jesse, you may begin. Ladies and gentlemen, you may ask questions as we go along,” Sam instructed, leaning back in his chair.
While Jesse spoke of his vision for the company, Sam quietly studied the board members. They were all intelligent people, with a lot at stake in the company’s future.
The Man Must Marry Page 1