Make Believe Engagement

by Day Leclaire

  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Excerpt

  Guest Register

  Title Page

  Dear Reader

  About The Author

  Books by Day Leclaire

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Copyright

  Bride’s Bay Resort

  EVENT BOARD

  Sandcastle-building contest

  Village Craft Fair

  Elizabeth Jermain hosts a

  formal tea—4:00 p.m.

  PIRATE JAMBOREE

  —search for buried treasure!

  —meet on the beach at 8:00 p.m.

  Help preserve our maritime forests.

  See front desk for details.

  GUEST REGISTER

  Make Believe Engagement

  Day Leclaire

  Dear Reader,

  Imagine living on an island—sizzling sun, sand stretching as far as the eye can see, and a rolling surf playing in the background. At night a full moon pushes over the horizon and turns the waves to silver. And overhead you can see a million stars. What could be more romantic…more inspiring?

  If I seem so familiar with the setting, it’s because I am! While Bride’s Bay Resort is located on an island off the South Carolina coast, I live on an island off North Carolina. I also live smack-dab in the middle of a maritime forest. As I write this, sounds of my woodland setting are all around me—warblers and woodpeckers, osprey and red-shouldered hawks, wood ducks and gulls. Even the trees have a music all their own. I can hear the gentle creaking of loblolly pines, the wind stirring the leaves into a starchy rustle, and the furtive passage of deer and rabbits and squirrels as they slip through the undergrowth.

  Taylor Daniels arrives at a similar island paradise, but she’s all business, attempting to reduce her surroundings to a profit-and-loss statement. But JT Richmond has other plans—plans that involve seduction. And with such a setting, how could he fail?

  Believe me, it’s not possible!

  Day Leclaire and her family live in the midst of a maritime forest on a small island off the coast of North Carolina. Despite the yearly storms that batter them, and the frequent power outages, they find the beautiful climate, superb fishing and unbeatable seascape more than adequate compensation. One of their first acquisitions upon moving to Hatteras Island was a cat named Fuzzy. He has recently discovered that laps are wonderful places to curl up and nap—and that Day’s son really was kidding when he named the hamster Cat Food.

  Books by Day Leclaire

  HARLEQUIN ROMANCE

  3028—JINXED

  3139-WHERE THERE’S A WILL

  3183—IN THE MARKET

  3238—A WHOLESALE ARRANGEMENT

  3285-TO CATCH A GHOST

  3301-ONCE A COWBOY

  3338—WHO’S HOLDING THE BABY?

  3361—MAIL-ORDER BRIDEGROOM

  3376-ONE-NIGHT WIFE

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  Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont L2A 5X3

  PROLOGUE

  IT HAD BEEN five days. Five endless days and she hadn’t uncovered any of the information she needed regarding Bride’s Bay Resort.

  Taylor Daniels stared out her office window, her hands clenched. The final challenge standing between her and a vice presidency in her father’s firm, and she teetered on the edge of disaster. She’d thought it would be so easy. So damned easy. Her father, Boss Daniels, had given her three weeks to learn everything she could about the running of this particular luxury resort, and she’d hit dead end after dead end. Which meant that unless she came up with something clever—and fast—she’d fail.

  And she refused to fail.

  Late-afternoon sunlight enveloped her, the sultry heat of a Charleston, South Carolina, heat wave diminished by the cooling rush of the air conditioner. Her mouth tightened. She’d spent too many years fighting for this position at Daniels Investment—proving she wasn’t too soft, or too young, or too female to follow in her father’s footsteps. She’d struggled so hard to subdue the gentler traits that had plagued her all her life. And for what? To have her dreams and ambitions vanish at this late date? No. No way.

  But the question still remained—how could she get hold of the intimate details on the running of Bride’s Bay Resort? She needed profit-and-loss statements, operating and maintenance costs, revenue and expenses…

  She’d have to go to the island and dig for the answers, she’d known that from the start. She also knew that the moment she asked her first question, they’d realize she wasn’t some innocent tourist. So how did she get the information without revealing her ulterior motive?

  A tentative knock sounded on the door. “Taylor? Am I interrupting?”

  Taylor turned from the window and smiled warmly at her secretary. “No, of course not, Linda,” she replied. “Come on in.”

  “I have the letters you dictated ready for your signature.”

  “Thanks. Just leave them on my desk.”

  “Mr. Daniels is asking for a progress report on your current assignment and… Oh.” Linda picked up one of the brochures littering Taylor’s desktop. “Are you planning a trip to Bride’s Bay Resort? Great choice. It’s a beautiful place.”

  “You’ve been there?” Taylor asked idly.

  “Not as a visitor,” Linda said with a laugh. “I couldn’t afford it. I used to work there.”

  Taylor stilled. “At the resort?”

  Linda nodded. “I grew up on Jermain Island. In the village,” she hastened to add. “Not at the resort. A number of us worked there while attending college. Didn’t I ever mention that?”

  “No, you didn’t.” Taylor’s gaze sharpened.” ‘How well do you know the Jermains?”

  Linda shrugged. “Well enough, I suppose. Why?”

  Taylor smiled for the first time in days. “Sit down, Linda. We have a lot to talk about.”

  “JT RICHMOND HERE. What can I do for you?”

  “Jace? It’s Linda Halloway, Hank and Martha’s daughter.”

  JT leaned back in his chair. “Of course, Linda. How are you?”

  “Oh… fine.”

  He heard the hesitation in her voice. But before he could comment she launched into a long and involved discourse on various subjects—the health of mutual family members, a play she’d recently seen, the weather. He indulged her for several minutes, aware that the breathless litany hid the true purpose for her call, a purpose he suspected was far from casual.

  “Listen, Jace. There’s a reason I phoned,” Linda said at long last, confirming his guess. “I have a small problem and wondered if you could help me.”

  “Sure. What’s the problem?”

  “My employer is after information about Jermain Island, confidential information, I think. And when I couldn’t help her, she asked if I could recommend someone who might.”

  He frowned. “Why come to me? Why not talk to my uncle or to Elizabeth Jermain? They’re far more knowledgeable about the island than I am.”

  “I would have, except…” He could hear the nervousness in Linda’s voice, was aware of an underlying reservation. “Maybe this is a bad idea,” she murmured. “Forget I called.”

  He straightened in his chair. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He’d learned long ago to
trust his gut instincts. In fact, he’d saved himself from many a bad business move by doing so. And right now he sensed that if he didn’t find out what had prompted Linda’s call, he’d live to regret it.

  “Hey, kiddo,” he teased with deliberate lightness, “this is Cousin Jason you’re talking to, remember? I may only be a third cousin twice removed, but I’m always happy to help family. Now, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

  It was the perfect approach. He heard her relieved sigh and waited through her rather incoherent explanation, keying in on the one vital detail she’d mentioned. Daniels Investment. Now what did that nasty little firm want with Jermain Island? More importantly, what did they want with Bride’s Bay Resort?

  “I hope I haven’t given you the wrong impression, Jace,” Linda continued. “Taylor’s really a sweetheart. When she asked me to find someone who’d give her the information she needed about the island and the hotel…well, I immediately thought of you. That was okay, wasn’t it?” she finished uncertainly.

  He leaned back in his chair, his mouth a grim line, his free hand balled in a fist. “You did the right thing, Linda,” he soothed. “I’ll take it from here. One thing, though. Why does Daniels Investment want this information? What are they up to?”

  There was a long silence. “Jace-—” she began.

  He didn’t wait for her to finish. “You’d be putting your job in jeopardy if you told me any more.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “So far I’ve done exactly what Taylor requested. If I said anything else… Besides, I really don’t know much more. At least, nothing that would help you.”

  “But you have suspicions.”

  “Yes,” she said again.

  “You don’t have to work for them, Linda. I can arrange a job for you if you’re interested,” he offered. “Something with a quality firm.”

  “I… I might take you up on that. But not yet.” Her voice brightened. “I could be mistaken about all this, you know. Jumping at shadows. Taylor’s really very nice. Wait’ll you meet her.”

  JT’s mouth curved in a humorless smile. Yeah, right. Nice. Nice like an asp. After all, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, which meant that any spawn of Boss Daniels’s was bound to be as venomous a snake as the old man.

  “Give Ms. Daniels my name and private number.” He rattled it off. “But don’t give her any other information about me.”

  “What if she asks?” Linda protested. “I’ll have to tell her something.”

  “Tell her…tell her I hire myself out for odd jobs. She can make what she wants of it.”

  “Oh, Jace. That sounds terrible. Why can’t I—”

  “You’re to tell her only that much, Linda,” he ordered, his voice low and soft. “You can also tell her I expect to be well paid for my services.”

  A momentary silence greeted his demand. “I hate it when your voice gets like that,” she complained. “Shadroe always told us it was a warning to either do what you say or move aside.”

  JT struggled to hide his amusement. “You should listen to my uncle.”

  ‘She sighed. “All right. I’ll give Taylor your name and number. The two of you can work it out from there. In all honesty, I’d rather not be caught in the middle.”

  “A wise decision. And, Linda?”

  “Yes?”

  “You did the right thing. I promise, you won’t regret it. If anything unfortunate happens, I’ll take care of it.”

  “Thanks.” There was a brief hesitation, and then in a nervous rush she added, “Don’t be too hard on Taylor. She’s nothing like her father.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Me? Hard?” he mocked. “You must be kidding.”

  But as he hung up the phone, a ruthless smile edged his mouth. Soon, he promised himself. Soon he’d have his hands on a Daniels. And he’d finally be able to settle an old score. A long-overdue score.

  CHAPTER ONE

  TAYLOR CHECKED her reflection in the small compact mirror, satisfied that her hair hadn’t escaped the tidy little upsweep despite the unseasonable May heat wave. Saturday afternoon was a miserable time for a business meeting, but considering how many days she’d already lost on this project, she didn’t have much choice. Fortunately JT Richmond had been available—available to see her and available for hire. For hire. Taylor shook her head in distaste. Those two words told her a lot about the man—and none of it good. Imagine being bought by the highest bidder, like a stud bull at an auction.

  She stared into the mirror a final time. Huge ebony eyes stared back. They were tilted up at the corners and thick-lashed, dominating her face and creating a striking contrast to her golden blond hair and fair complexion. They were also identical to her father’s and were the only physical characteristic she’d inherited from him. But that one similarity was more than enough. All her life, people had remarked on her resemblance to Boss.

  It had rarely been a compliment.

  With a decisive snap, she shut the compact and slipped on a pair of mirrored sunglasses. This was ridiculous. What was she thinking, engaging in this sort of emotional soul-searching? She’d been taught long ago that indulging in such a pursuit would cloud her judgment. Cool reason and logic were the only qualities she needed. Time to get down to business. Time to get the information she required from this JT Richmond before she tackled Jermain Island.

  She removed her briefcase from the passenger seat and checked the address Linda had given her. It matched the number nailed in a crooked line above the door of the tiny ramshackle cottage. Satisfied she’d come to the right place, she lifted an eyebrow. This wasn’t the best section of Charleston. Either Richmond didn’t charge enough, or what he had to sell wasn’t worth buying.

  Adjusting her sunglasses, Taylor picked her way along the cobbled driveway, careful not to catch her fragile heels between the stones. Three-inch heels were rather impractical, but since she worked in a predominantly male environment, they gave her the vital inches that nature had elected to withhold. Having blond hair and a delicate build also worked against her, but she’d learned to take advantage of the powerful black gaze she’d inherited. She’d brought more than one inopportune advance to a swift end with a single hard-eyed state.

  A crumbling slate path led off the driveway toward the house and she followed it. The lawn had only been half mowed, and she suddenly saw why. A monstrous black motorcycle blocked the mower’s progress, various and sundry pieces of the Harley strewn on a grease-stained tarp on the ground. Images of a beer-swigging biker with a huge belly and numerous tattoos caused a momentary hesitation. What had she gotten herself into? More to the point, what had her secretary gotten her into? Linda wouldn’t have suggested this JT Richmond if he was dangerous… would she?

  Taylor stopped in front of the house and glanced around. The porch steps sagged, and she regarded them with annoyance. Damn these heels, anyway. “Hello?” she called, reluctant to risk her neck further by tackling the stairs. “Anyone there?”

  “Here, Ms. Daniels,” came the laconic reply.

  She followed the sound of the rough-edged masculine voice, stepping into deep grass and skirting the wide dilapidated veranda. And then she saw him, the reality far more disturbing than the image she’d conjured up.

  He lay in a hammock on the back porch, swinging lazily in the sultry breeze. No tattoos, was the first thought that popped into her head, and no beer belly. That much was quite apparent—quite apparent because all she could see of him was skin, an endless expanse of tanned wellmuscled sleek flesh. She could only pray that somewhere between the long toned legs slung over the sides of the hammock and the bare hair-roughened chest were some clothes. From her vantage point they weren’t readily evident.

  She forced her gaze to his face. To her dismay, she discovered he was also devastatingly handsome. Bold sapphire blue eyes held her with stunning ease, mocking her silent appraisal. Not that that stopped her. One of the first lessons she’d learned at Daniels was to thoroughly assess any new territory before maki
ng a move. Regardless of his reaction, she intended to look her fill, to analyze all visible strengths and weaknesses that might affect her business interests. To Richmond’s credit, all she saw were strengths.

  Whatever this man had to sell, women would be eager to buy.

  His hair was a shade just shy of black, and he wore it longer than most of the men she knew. He also appeared far more ruthless, which struck her as ludicrous. She worked with some of the most ruthless men the business community had to offer. But something about the uncompromising set of this man’s jaw, the cool intelligence lurking behind those brilliant eyes and the utter confidence he exuded warned that he wasn’t someone she could influence or dismiss.

  But he was for sale.

  “I presume you’re JT Richmond,” she said in a no-nonsense tone.

  “Got it in one,” he acknowledged. “And you must be the infamous Taylor Daniels, heir apparent to the big bad Boss.”

  She kept her expression an impassive mask and lifted a fine winged eyebrow. “You shouldn’t make assumptions, Mr. Richmond. I’m not infamous. My father is. I’m merely notorious. And as far as being the heir apparent… if you knew Boss, you’d know that even heir apparents have to earn their keep at Daniels, or they find themselves without a job.”

  “Even if you’re the boss’s daughter?”

  “Especially if you’re the boss’s daughter,” she replied with remarkable calm.

  The hammock creaked to a stop, and an unnerving silence settled between them. He watched with agonizing intensity, focusing the full force of his sapphire gaze on her. She returned his look from behind the relative protection of her mirrored sunglasses.

  “So you’re out to prove yourself,” he said at last, breaking the awkward silence between them. His eyes narrowed and he offered a humorless smile. “I guess that makes you both notorious… and dangerous.”