Oops...We're Married?

“Put me down.”

Eleanor’s voice sounded husky. Could she possibly be as affected as he was by their proximity?

Entering her bedroom, Dillon stopped beside the bed, releasing her legs so they dropped until just the tip of her toes were touching the rug. She was just the right height, he realized, oblivious to everything but the woman standing still in his arms.

“You can let me go now,” Eleanor said in a hoarse whisper.

“What if I don’t want to let you go just yet?” Heating up at the tremor in Eleanor’s voice, Dillon wondered exactly what he did want from her.

“You don’t really want to do this.”

“I don’t?” He gulped, her voice splashing like coldwater on his growing desire.

“Well, if we do…this, we can’t get an annulment.”

Dear Reader,

Oh, baby! This June, Silhouette Romance has the perfect poolside reads for you, from babies to royalty, from sexy millionaires to rugged cowboys!

In Carol Grace’s Pregnant by the Boss! (#1666), champagne and mistletoe lead to a night of passion between Claudia Madison and her handsome boss—but will it end in a lifetime of love? And don’t miss the final installment in Marie Ferrarella’s crossline miniseries, THE MOM SQUAD, with Beauty and the Baby (#1668), about widowed mother-to-be Lori O’Neill and the forbidden feelings she can’t deny for her late husband’s caring brother!

In Raye Morgan’s Betrothed to the Prince (#1667), the second in the exciting CATCHING THE CROWN miniseries, a princess goes undercover when an abandoned baby is left in the care of a playboy prince. And some things are truly meant to be, as Carla Cassidy shows us in her incredibly tender SOULMATES series title, A Gift from the Past (#1669), about a couple given a surprising second chance at forever.

What happens when a rugged cowboy wins fifty million dollars? According to Debrah Morris, in Tutoring Tucker (#1670), he hires a sexy oil heiress to refine his rough-and-tumble ways, and they both get a lesson in love. Then two charity dating-game contestants get the shock of their lives when they discover Oops…We’re Married? (#1671), by brand-new Silhouette Romance author Susan Lute.

See you next month for more fun-in-the-sun romances!

Happy reading!

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor

Oops…We’re Married?

Susan Lute

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my children,

Darren, Damon and Saritha,

you bring nothing but great joy to my life.

And…

to my husband, David,

I love you.

SUSAN LUTE

lives in the Pacific Northwest, in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains. She married her high school sweetheart, has three children who are “the best thing she’s done with her life” and a dog named Wolfe.

Susan is fascinated by ancient history, loves reading, gardening, black-and-white photographs and traveling. She’s a veteran of the Portland to Coast Relay and plans one day to hike the Pacific Crest Trail.

By day she is a registered nurse. By night she loves to spin tales that resemble her own happy-ever-after, about that click of instant recognition that happens when a man and woman fall head over heels in love. When writing, her priorities include that first vanilla latté in the morning and a steady infusion of chocolate.

Dear Reader,

Used to moving from place to place with my family, I was thirteen the summer I discovered a lifelong friend in the guise of a book titled Black Beauty. Thus began my career as a reader, which ultimately led to aspirations of becoming a writer. For me, writing about that special, true love is like finally coming home.

I must confess to being an ardent student of human nature. Add a fascination for the ridiculous and the unusual, and you have the conception of Eleanor and Dillon’s story. I knew I wanted to explore the relationships between grandparent, parent and child. Oops…We’re Married? is about widower Dillon Stone and how he reacts when his father and son decide they heartily approve of Eleanor Silks, a corporate librarian so totally opposite from the wife and mother he’s decided he has to find.

When I wondered what these two different people would do if they accidentally got married after being thrown together as contestants at a dating-game benefit dinner, their story ran away with me. There’s nothing more devastating than love gone horribly wrong, and nothing more heavenly…and satisfying than love when it goes completely right. In the end, only Eleanor and Dillon could tell me how their love would triumph.

In heartfelt appreciation to Silhouette for this opportunity, I give you my first book….

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Prologue

Eleanor Silks Rose sat in the church pew wishing more than anything that it was she standing at the altar becoming Dillon Stone’s new wife. It wasn’t fair that Joan Butler, Centennial High’s sweetheart, with her dark beauty and serene personality, had gotten the most perfect guy in the whole world to walk her down the aisle.

Squirming in pinching panty hose that she rarely put on for any reason, Eleanor watched the ceremony from a seat as far in the back of the small church as she could get and still see down the center aisle to where the couple stood taking their vows. She was oblivious to the soothing music, the serenity of lighted candles and the near tranquillity of the expectant hush as the priest said the words that would join Joan for life to the man Eleanor had secretly loved from the first moment she’d laid eyes on her foster brother Jake’s newest friend.

She’d been fourteen then, and still she would give anything to be in Joan’s white patent leather shoes, only Eleanor’s choice of elegant footwear ran more to new Nikes than anything shiny or with a heel. To be fair, it wasn’t the other woman’s fault Dillon had never noticed her, a ragtag tomboy, who would much rather go hiking or follow the boys fishing than do girl things like primp in front of a mirror, clean house, or cook. She would rather eat dirt than do more than pop something frozen into the microwave.

Of course, Joan did all those housewifely things. Tugging on a piece of hair that insisted on curling around her neck, instead of staying in the French braid she’d tried for the first time, Eleanor dropped her gaze as the ceremony ended so she wouldn’t see Dillon enthusiastically kissing his new bride.

At the start of the bold music that announced another couple had tied the knot, she looked up to see the happy couple start down the aisle toward her, sparkling in the congratulations of their wedding guests.

Her foster parents were always telling her she had her whole life ahead of her. But, to Eleanor, it sure didn’t feel like it.

She refused to cry.

Her heart was not broken.

Another woman had gotten the only man in the world worth considering spending the rest of her life with. King Arthur of Camelot and the Man of Steel all rolled into one, Dillon would always be the only man for her.

Chapter One

“Jake Edward Solomon. You are not my father.”

“No, El, but a big brother is the next best thing. Now, are you going to do me this little favor or not?” Jake’s voice fairly crackled with humor.

Pushing the phone between her ear and hunched shoulder, Eleanor settled behind her desk and swiveled her chair to gaze unseeing out her office window at the intercity park below.

Jake knew he was going to get his way. Just once, Eleanor wished she could resist her foster brother and one of his crazy schemes. She hated being emotionally blackmailed, especially by the one and only person who came the closest to being any kind of family to her.

“I’m not saying I’ll do it, but tell me again what you want me to do?” Eleanor was resigned to helping him out, just like she always did. But, this time, she was determined he was going to have to work hard for his victory.

“The Marshals service is putting on this benefit dinner, and for the price of the ticket we’re going to do a dating-game theater show, with a mock marriage at the end—”

“You’ve got to be kidding, right?” Eleanor knew her voice was on the rise, but at the moment she didn’t care as she caught a glimpse of where her foster brother was heading.

“No, I’m not, El. We’ve got it all arranged for Saturday night, and now one of the girls has backed out.”

Eleanor ignored the begging tone Jake tried to trap her with. She’d been exposed to it more times than she cared to remember. In fact, anytime Jake wanted his way.

“I hope you’re not suggesting that I should replace this…person in your charade. You know I don’t like to do dates…blind, for charity or otherwise,” Eleanor reminded Jake flatly, hoping to make him back off.

Wishful thinking.

“Come on, El. I told you I’m in a bind here. I need you. This is very important to a lot of people…and to me.”

Eleanor hated it when Jake used his soft, nobody-loves-you-more-than-I-do voice from their teenage years. Emotional blackmail. That’s what it was. And, even though it pushed her buttons, she still caved every time.

“Okay, Jake. I’ll do this for you. I don’t care about all those other people. They don’t mean a thing to me.”

“Of course they don’t. Thanks, El. You’re a champ and a—”

“Yeah, right,” Eleanor broke in, not quite ready to concede the brat his victory.

“Listen,” Jake said, “meet me at the Harbor Room tomorrow night and we can go over the details. I’m meeting a friend at five, but we should be done by six. Love you, baby sister.”

And then all that was left of Jake and his current mad scheme was the dial tone in Eleanor’s ear.

Dillon Stone studied his friend suspiciously in the dim lighting of happy hour at the Harbor Room. Jake couldn’t possibly know about his plans to find a wife.

It had been one month since his sister’s wedding and his decision to go wife-hunting. And watching Ryan trying to settle into their new home near the university had only strengthened his determination.

Dillon remembered what it had been like after his own mother had died when he was a young teenager—how he’d felt so lost and alone. He’d missed her horribly. He didn’t want Ryan to grow up feeling that same loss.

Tangled up in his memories, Dillon wiped away the moisture on the outside of his beer glass with his thumb. He wasn’t looking for love for himself. He’d been lucky. He’d had love once. That wasn’t something that happened twice in a man’s lifetime. The best he could hope for was someone he could respect and live comfortably with. It was doable. Many married for far less.

Dillon thought about the two lists stashed away in his office at home. On one, he’d listed all of the qualities he required in a wife. On the other, all of the single women he thought would fill the bill. Not that the second one was long, but it was a start.

“…so, you can see, I’m kind of in a tight spot here.”

“What tight spot?” Dillon lifted his beer to his lips, wincing at having to admit he’d just missed a good portion of his friend’s conversation.

“I need a favor. I need a guy Saturday night,” Jake spoke slowly as if talking to a slow-witted child, plunking his beer glass on the table between them.

“Sorry, I have a lot on my mind. I’ve got this involved case I’m reviewing.” It wasn’t a total lie, Dillon reasoned.

“You don’t work in the courts anymore, you’re a law professor. What case?”

Dillon had no intention of sharing his latest project with Jake. When the man got ahold of an idea, he was like a dog with a bone. Remembering the number of failed blind dates his buddy had conned him into before he’d started going with Joan at the end of their senior year of high school, he shuddered to think what kind of woman his friend would try to scrounge up for him.

“How’s your sister?” Dillon asked, determined to distract Jake.

“El? She’s okay. Listen, you have to do this for me—”

For a split second Dillon’s stomach churned. Surely, Jake didn’t want him to go out with his sister. He remembered the shy tomboy who’d followed them everywhere. If his memory was correct, not long after his marriage to Joan, she’d gone back east to college.

“Do what for you?” he asked cautiously.

“The department is putting on a charity dinner for the East Side Women’s Shelter. We’ll have a silent auction and some dancing, but most of the program is a mock dating-game theater show, and the guy from the department who was going to be the contestant backed out at the last minute.”

Dillon took a long gulp of his beer, relief flowing down his throat with the malt. His best friend was not setting him up to date his kid sister. The corporate workaholic Jake had said she’d become was not on his agenda. “What happened to the guy?”

“Got married and his new wife doesn’t want him participating.”

“What about one of the other guys?”

“All on assignment, and I’m going to be too busy being master of ceremonies to be a contestant, so don’t ask.”

As a U.S. Marshal, Jake took his assignments very seriously, including this one, apparently.

“When is this important ‘event’?” Dillon asked, frowning at the delay to his own plans. He’d just have to work around it. He owed Jake too much. If it hadn’t been for his tenacious friend, he didn’t know how he would have survived Joan’s death.

“This Saturday. I’m sorry this is so last minute, but I’m desperate. And maybe after the show is over, you and the lucky lady you choose can spend some time together.” An incurable romantic, Jake had already informed Dillon, ad nauseam, that it was about time he rejoined the singles dating scene.

“Not likely, knowing the type of woman you usually rake up for your schemes.” For a brief moment, Dillon wondered if he was out of his mind to get mixed up in anything his good buddy was involved in.

It’s for charity, Stone.

“Okay. I can do it. I guess I’m not doing anything that night, anyway.”

“Great.” Jake raised his beer in the air. “To success and to finding that perfect woman.”

Slowly, Dillon clinked his beer glass to Jake’s, suspicion dancing along his nerves. No, Jake couldn’t possibly know he was in the market for a new wife. This was just another one his friend’s wacky do-gooder schemes.

Finishing his beer, he idly glanced around the dimly lit room until his gaze settled on a woman just entering the lounge. For a breathless moment, with her face half hidden in shadow, she stood motionless, like a priceless porcelain sculpture.

Without his permission and faster than a heartbeat, all Dillon’s predatory male instincts came alive. Where in the world did she come from? Interest sneaking up his spine, he couldn’t resist feasting on the vision silently taking in the occupants of the room.

Blond hair fell straight past her shoulders like a shimmering pale waterfall, a faint layer of bangs blocked from falling into eyes framed by wire-rimmed glasses. Heart-shaped lips pressed tight in concentration as the woman thoroughly scanned each table, one by one.

Dillon’s first thought, She’s looking for someone, ambushed him into sudden attention as his gaze followed the lithe line of her body. His silent touch moved slowly down her long, slender neck, past proudly held shoulders, then memorized an unforgettable figure that assaulted him with its mounds and valleys—not the least bit hidden by the high-power business suit she wore.

Then the woman stepped farther into the low-lighted room.

Dillon’s senses vibrated, like an overstrung guitar string, at the hint of long, lean legs enhanced to perfection by irreverent, practical shoes showcasing fantasy-producing legs and slender feet. Feeling like he’d been gut-kicked, he looked up from his frank appraisal to find the woman staring at him. For a heart-stopping moment, she stood still as if in stunned surprise, then just as quickly dismissed him and flicked her gaze to his friend.

Unaccustomed to being ignored like yesterday’s day-old bread, and—God only knew why—not liking it, Dillon watched as the woman’s gaze turned suspicious as she started toward their table with undeniable purpose.

His second thought, Uh-oh, here comes trouble, settled him back in his chair as he realized there was something familiar about the woman approaching them, anger barely suppressed and certainly not hidden in her smoldering expression.

Dillon’s third thought concluded, This woman is not a Suzie Homemaker.

“Jake.” Eleanor didn’t quite succeed in hiding the blazing temper pulsing through her temples behind the cool, even tone of voice she directed at her foster brother. She’d known the brat was up to no good. Here was the proof.

She’d wondered how long it would take Jake to parade her in front of the man she once would have moved heaven and earth for. That childish crush had died a final death on the day he’d married Joan. Though nine years ago she hadn’t thought it could be possible, she’d gone on and made something good of her life.

Now, in a nanosecond, she saw everything about Dillon Stone. The faded but well-fitting jeans. The casually worn brown tweed sport coat. Ruffled dark hair that annoyingly begged her fingers to run through it. The sharp, piercing gaze that she was afraid could see to her innermost secrets.

Eleanor ignored the faint tremble in her heart as she felt again his prowling interest when she’d first entered the lounge.

How often had she fought staring at the wedding picture Jake had given her? Each time, pushing down fierce longing for the look of love that radiated from a younger version of this man to another woman, his wife…a dainty, beautiful, dark-haired creature tucked protectively under his arm?

Even though she knew better, for a while she’d looked to find that same love for herself. Finally, convinced she wasn’t going to be that lucky, she’d buried the picture and her dream of a true-and-lasting love for herself in the bottom of a box that contained the few mementos she’d somehow saved from her childhood and proceeded to make a successful, independent life for herself that had no room for that unpredictable emotion called love.

“Hey, El.” Jake jumped up, his six-foot frame barely towering over her own height of five foot nine as he wrapped her in a strong hug.

Out of the corner of her eye, Eleanor saw Dillon stand, too. Taller than Jake by several inches, his eyes, the color of a deep forest, watched them warily. Then, as if she’d been mistaken, his strong features went carefully blank and the tension riding his hard, lean body visibly disappeared.

Ignoring the sudden awakening of feelings she’d taken great pains to forget, Eleanor pushed at Jake’s chest. “Let me go, Jake.”

“Fine.” Jake’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he grabbed the chair next to him in a silent invitation for her to sit. “El, you remember Dillon.”

Eleanor shot Jake her most potent I’m-going-to-kill-you-as-soon-as-I-get-you-alone look, then held out her hand to the one man she’d thought never to see again.

“Of course I do.” She modulated her voice to cool detachment, strongly shaken by the touch of a handshake that threatened to melt her clear to the center of her soul.

Quickly, she snatched her hand away from his, careful to tuck it behind her back where the man couldn’t touch it again.

Green eyes narrowed at her while the sound of Dillon’s baritone voice bombarded her with unwanted awareness. “Hi, Eleanor. It’s been a long time.”

If the look on his face was anything to go by, she was pretty sure he wasn’t pleased by this reintroduction. That was just fine with her, Eleanor decided, sinking into the chair Jake offered, her legs not as capable of holding her up as they had been when she’d first entered the lounge. She’d faced many a boardroom piranha and come out the winner since she’d last see this man. She could certainly face down Dillon Stone, who meant nothing to her now, without a single ripple appearing in the well-ordered life she’d intentionally built for herself.

“Jake, I’ve got to go. I have to get home to Ryan. Eleanor, it was nice to see you again.”

Startled, Eleanor watched Dillon’s back as he turned and walked away from her, then out the lounge door.

Disappointment pelted her like a cold rainstorm. Obviously, she was as unnoticeable today as she’d been all those years ago when she’d foolishly followed him around wearing her heart on her sleeve.

Slowly, Eleanor turned to Jake. “I think I really am going to kill you this time,” she stoically advised her foster brother, painfully aware that her hands had formed into white fists on the table.

Chapter Two

Dillon leaned closer to the mirror, trying to concentrate on the bow tie he was having trouble knotting. It just didn’t make any sense. Ever since he’d walked…okay run, away from Eleanor Rose, he hadn’t been able to concentrate on a damn thing. Not his preparations for classes. Not his lists. Not anything.

For at least the hundredth time he wondered about her. Her attempt to distance herself hadn’t escaped him. He couldn’t forget her studied indifference when she’d been forced to acknowledge him.

The woman he’d encountered at the Harbor Room only vaguely resembled the teenage girl Dillon remembered. She’d changed. A lot. The angry tomboy Jake had taken under his wing had morphed into a consummate businesswoman. Too aloof and independent for his tastes, she would never make the cut for his list of potential wife candidates. So, what was his problem?

An attraction for a dyed-in-the-wool corporate businesswoman was not in his plans despite the whiskey-colored eyes haunting him. Or the tall, lithe form and long legs, which he was sure could quite easily wrap themselves around his waist, tempting him. Or the fantasy of sun-struck blond hair cascading through his fingers, taunting him.

A shudder sneaked through Dillon as he savagely clamped down on the runaway images assaulting his good sense. What had happened to the tomboy he used to know?

“Dad. I can’t tie this.”

Dillon glanced at the reflection of his six-year-old son in the mirrored closet door. Ryan reminded him so much of Joan, bringing back memories of his first wife that no longer hurt, but still left him feeling empty and alone. Though she’d been gone four years, he still missed her laughter and the comfort of coming home to the safety of her love each day.

Turning off the rush of memories he’d worked hard to come to terms with, Dillon squatted down in front of Ryan, quickly tying the boy’s bow tie. “You look sharp, champ.”

Standing, he turned them both to the mirror. The last of the Stone men, the son a shorter version of his dad, both dressed in black suits, relieved only by white shirts and matching green eyes. One young and too cautious, the other older and sadly wiser.

“Are we going to find a mom tonight?” His son’s small voice cut through Dillon’s unbidden fantasy of distant, whiskey…blond…