Truly, Madly, Deeply

“Do you really think marrying just to win a court battle is a wise move?” Letter to Reader Title Page About the Author 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 Copyright

“Do you really think marrying just to win a court battle is a wise move?”

Minerva asked, feeling her stomach sink at the thought of Judd marrying another woman.

“I’m not certain. But I’m willing to take the chance. I will make it worth your time.”

“Make it worth my time?” He wanted to marry her! Nervous excitement flowed through her. Although he wasn’t offering her a lifetime commitment, and there would be no love involved, she’d never been so tempted by anything in her life. She recalled the heat his touch had sent through her and wondered what his lips would taste like. Embers of desire sparked to life within her, but her conservative nature caused her to hesitate. “We barely know each other.”

“I know all I need to know about you.” His voice softened into a plea. “Will you help me keep my children, Minerva? Will you marry me?”

Dear Reader,

Compelling, emotionally charged stories featuring honorable heroes, strong heroines and the deeply rooted conflicts they must overcome to arrive at a happily-ever-after are what make a Silhouette Romance novel come alive. Look no further than this month’s offerings for stories to sweep you away....

In Johnny’s Pregnant Bride, the engaging continuation of Carolyn Zane’s THE BRUBAKER BRIDES, an about-to-bemarried cattle rancher honorably claims another woman—and another man’s baby—as his own. This month’s VIRGIN BRIDES title by Martha Shields shows that when The Princess and the Cowboy agree to a marriage of convenience, neither suspects the other’s real identity...or how difficult not falling in love will be! In Truly, Madly, Deeply, Elizabeth August delivers a powerful transformation tale, in which a vulnerable woman finds her inner strength and outward beauty through the love of a tough-yet-tender single dad and his passel of kids.

And Then He Kissed Me by Teresa Southwick shows the romantic aftermath of a surprising kiss between best friends who’d been determined to stay that way. A runaway bride at a crossroads finds that Weddings Do Come True when the right man comes along in this uplifting novel by Cara Colter. And rounding out the month is Karen Rose Smith with a charming story whose title says it all: Wishes, Waltzes and a Storybook Wedding.

Enjoy this month’s titles—and keep coming back to Romance, a series guaranteed to touch every woman’s heart.

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor

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Truly, Madly, Deeply

Elizabeth August

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ELIZABETH AUGUST

lives in the mountains of North Carolina with her husband, Doug, a chemist. They have three grown sons. Their oldest is pursuing a career in medicine, their middle son is a chemical engineer and their youngest is now in college.

Having survived a bout with cancer, Elizabeth has now joined the ranks of cancer survivors. Writing will always be her primary pursuit and will remain at the top of her list of loves just below her husband, sons and daughter-in-law. Elizabeth has also written under the pseudonym of Betsy Page for Harlequin.

Chapter One

“It’s my turn to soar,” Minerva Brodwick announced to the world, as she pulled out of the driveway of her father’s house. “Well, maybe soar isn’t exactly the right word,” she amended, recalling her conversation the day before with Wanda Johnston, owner of Johnston’s Placement Agency.

“The job I had lined up for you at Maywood Private School fell through,” Wanda had said apologetically.

This announcement had come as a blow. Minerva had been counting on that job. The school provided living quarters for their teachers. Now, she would not only have no income but no place to live. And what she had in her savings wouldn’t last long in today’s economy.

Wanda had then smiled brightly. “However, I do have a position open that I think you can handle quite well. The pay is excellent, and room and board are provided.”

There was something about Wanda’s smile that had sent a chill of warning down Minerva’s spine. “Why do I get the feeling this isn’t as rosy as you’re trying to make it sound?”

“So, maybe it’s not a piece of cake. But it’s something to do until I can find you something else. And I can probably get you a little more money.”

Minerva continued to eye her suspiciously. “How many people have you tried to place in this job?”

“Five.” A coaxing quality entered Wanda’s voice. “I’ll admit it’s not an easy assignment but you can think of it as a challenge. If you survive it, you can survive anything.” Her tone became more practical. “Besides, it’s all I have right now that you’re qualified for.”

Minerva had groaned. She knew she was going to hate asking this. “So what is the job?”

“Divorced man with four children. You’d live in the home and take care of the children. The oldest is six. He’s in kindergarten half the day. And then there are three two-year-olds.”

The number of children didn’t concern Minerva, but she balked at the living arrangements.

“The father has custody of the children? Where’s the mother?”

“The mother went a little bonkers after having the triplets. She ran off with a lawyer friend.”

Minerva frowned. “What you need is a trained nanny.”

“You’ve got a degree in teaching elementary school. You’ve had child psychology courses and you worked for years with preschoolers. You’re as well trained as anyone I have. And, if you’re worried about being stuck with the laundry, cooking and housecleaning, don’t be. There’s a housekeeper who also lives in and she doesn’t try to push it off on anyone. Your only responsibility will be the children.”

The live-in housekeeper eased her mind about the accommodations. Still... “So why didn’t the other five you sent stay?”

“Two, he fired the first day because of incompetence. And he was right. They had told me that they’d had experience with children, but they hadn’t. As for the others, the children are fairly active. They simply burned out quickly.”

Minerva had been certain Wanda wasn’t being totally honest with her. “Most children are fairly active.”

Wanda sighed. “The father can be a little difficult. He really cares about his children, so much so, he’s a bit overly protective and demanding.”

“Just a bit?” Minerva asked skeptically.

“Well, maybe more than just a bit. But not impossible. The original nanny he had stayed from soon after the oldest son was born until just a little over a month ago. She left to get married.” A plea entered Wanda’s voice. “Please, you can take the job and just think of it as temporary. I promise I’ll keep looking for something better for you and get you out of there as quickly as possible. I’m desperate.”

And so am I, Minerva had admitted silently. Not taking this job could force her to delay her plans to claim her independence and that she refused to do. “All right. As long as you promise to find me another job soon.”

Wanda had grinned. “I’m already on it.” Picking up a sheet of paper in front of her, she extended it to Minerva. “Here’s the names, the address and directions. Call me when you’re settled in.”

Leaving the office, Minerva had wondered what she’d gotten herself into.

And, now she was again wondering that as she drove to the Graham home. Her jaw hardened with resolve. Anything was preferable to returning home a failure and proving her father right.

Judd Graham looked from the triplets who were in various stages of wearing their breakfasts to his watch. “The new nanny should be here in the next couple of minutes. She’d better not be late. I have to get John to school.”

Lucy Osmer, his housekeeper, frowned at the terse edge in his voice. “I hope you’re nicer to this one than you were to the three you didn’t fire. Not one of them stayed a full week. I’m a fifty-three-year-old woman. Taking care of this house, the laundry and cooking, I can handle. Add four youngsters and you’re pushing me past my limits.”

Judd breathed a tired sigh. “I really appreciate you not bailing out on me.”

Lucy’s frown softened. “I could never bail out on these babies. But I need help. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“You’re right,” Judd conceded. “I’ll arrange today for a maid service to come in once a week to help with the cleaning.”

“That will help,” Lucy replied. “And maybe this new nanny will meet your requirements and be willing to stay.”

Judd frowned. “I can’t really say I was sorry to see those other three leave. Not one of them ever seemed to relax. I want my children to have a comfortable environment.”

Lucy’s gaze raked over the tall, strongly built man seated at the table, overseeing the feeding of the two girls. “They never relaxed because of you.”

He scowled at her. “I never treated any of them unkindly.”

“You have an authoritarian manner that many people find overbearing, even intimidating.”

“You’ve never complained.”

“My husband, Bill, may his soul rest in peace, was a strong-willed man just like you. Besides he liked you and I trusted his judgment. I figured there must be some good in you. So I stayed around to find it.”

Judd grinned crookedly. “And did you ever find any?”

Lucy grinned back. “As a matter of fact, I did. ’Course it took some determination to get past your bark.”

“I’ll try to keep my bark in check when Miss Brodwick arrives,” he promised.

“I certainly hope so.” Lucy caught a dish of oatmeal just before Henry, the third of the triplets, sent it flying onto the floor. “We could certainly use another set of hands at this table.”

“Nice place,” Minerva observed, parking in front of the elegant single story house in one of the more highclass suburbs of Atlanta. From the short bio provided, she recalled that Judd Graham was an architect with his own construction company. So, naturally he’d have a great house, she mused as she followed the garden-lined brick path to the front door.

Ringing the bell, she hid her nervousness behind a polite smile. The smile suddenly felt wooden as she found herself face-to-face with a mountain of a man in jeans, a button-down shirt and construction boots. He studied her grimly through a pair of dark brown eyes that held no welcome.

His facial features were average as far as appearances went. But she would never have classified him as an average man. She guessed he was used to intimidating people with a mere look...the one he was using on her now. But she was in no mood to be intimidated by any man. Today she had declared her freedom. Keeping her shoulders straight, she extended her hand. “Hello, I’m Minerva Brodwick.”

Accepting her handshake, Judd noted that she wore only a touch of lipstick, making no serious attempt to change her looks with makeup. He approved. He didn’t like pretense. That was a point in her favor. She was also punctual. That was another point in her favor.

Minerva was shaken by the strength of his hand. The texture of his palm was roughened by calluses. Not only did he dress like a construction worker, but he honestly looked the part. In no way did he fit the mental image of the spoilt yuppie she’d expected to be meeting.

“You’re right on time,” he said, releasing his hold and stepping aside to allow her to enter.

In spite of his words of approval, Minerva saw no change in his expression. It remained grimly stern, and she wondered what would have happened if she had been late. Would he have told her to get lost and then slammed the door in her face? The thought that she really didn’t want this job crossed her mind. But she had no alternative at the moment. Even being employed by this brusque bear of a man was preferable to returning home to her father’s ridicule.

Judd motioned for her to precede him into the living room. “Before I take you into the kitchen and introduce you to my family, I have a few questions.” He waved toward a chair, indicating he wanted her to be seated.

Knowing that if she sat and allowed him to tower over her that would give him the advantage, Minerva chose to remain standing. She was determined to let him know from the start that she would not allow him to run roughshod over her. “And what would those be?”

“I want to know why you accepted this position.”

“Because I needed a job,” she answered honestly.

He scowled darkly. “My children are not merely a job.”

Maybe she had been a bit too blunt, Minerva decided. “I have never considered working with any child just a job. I like children.”

Judd continued to scowl but his anger lessened. “I’m glad to hear that.”

His intimidating manner was stretching her nerves to the breaking point. Unexpectedly she heard herself saying aloud what was going through her mind. “I am a little uncertain about accepting this position since you have gone through so many applicants.”

“I suppose that’s a legitimate concern.” His gaze hardened even more. “I want someone who cares about my children... who is willing to spend quality time with them. And the hours are long. You will be required to be on call twenty-four hours a day, six days a week. You will have Sundays off. In return, I will pay you very well. Do you think you can handle that?”

He was right about the pay. It was very good. Besides what choice did she have? “I’m willing to give it a try.”

His jaw still set in a grim line, he waved her to follow him. “Come along then.”

The sound of a child suddenly beginning to cry caused him to increase his gait to a run.

Minerva followed close on his heels. Entering the kitchen, she saw a woman, slightly on the chubby side with graying hair, fussing over the three children who looked to be the same age. A fourth child, clearly older than the others, with dark brown hair and eyes like his father was shaking his head in an adult fashion while mopping up a bowl of spilled cereal from the floor.

Seeing his father, the crying child stopped in midsob. “Joannie.” He pointed a stubby finger accusingly at one of the chestnut-haired children. “Her fault.”

“The two of them got into a grabbing match over the strawberries.” Lucy nodded toward a bowl of fresh strawberries on the table. “The cereal getting knocked off was an accident.”

Recalling her own father’s usual reaction to anything disturbing the peace of his world, Minerva braced herself, expecting Judd Graham to fly into an angry rage.

“Strawberries are healthy. Tomorrow we’ll put two bowls out,” he said, squatting down to take over cleaning the floor. Giving the older boy a grateful wink, he added, “Go finish your breakfast.”

Minerva stood stunned. She’d been certain he was the fly-into-a-rage type.

“Are you our new nanny?” the older boy asked as he returned to his seat.

Realizing she was the one being spoken to, Minerva jerked her gaze away from the man wiping up the floor to find herself being scrutinized with the same grim expression the father had met her with at the door. “Yes. And you are John, I resume,” she said, recalling the names she’d memorized from the list given her.

He nodded, then pointed toward the two chestnut-haired, green-eyed children. “That’s Joan and Judy. They’re identical.” He turned his attention toward the dark-haired, dark-eyed cherub who had stopped crying and was eating a strawberry. “And that’s Henry. He’s their triplet but he’s not identical.”

“And I’m Lucy Osmer, the housekeeper.” The woman who’d been soothing the boy held out her hand to Minerva. “And am I glad to see you. As much as I love this passel they’re a handful even for two people.”

“They look healthy and energetic.” Minerva conceded, accepting the handshake while guessing she was going to earn every cent of her pay.

“That they are.”

Judd had finished with the floor. He glanced at his watch, then turned to his eldest. “It’s time for us to get going.”

John frowned dubiously. “Maybe I should stay home today and help the new nanny get used to us. The triplets can be difficult. I’ve heard you and Lucy say so many times.”

Minerva’s heart went out to him. He acted and sounded so adult. His mother’s desertion had clearly robbed him of at least a portion of his childhood.

“We’ll do just fine on our own,” Lucy said. “You run along to school. And we’ll see you at two-thirty.”

As he and his father exited the kitchen, Minerva saw John glance back at her. There was worry and distrust in his eyes. “He seems to be afraid I’m some kind of monster,” she said in lowered tones to Lucy. “Did they have a nanny who was cruel to them?”

“No.” Lucy smiled. “He’s just a bit overly protective of his brother and sisters. How about if we get these three cleaned up, and then I’ll show you your room.”

Or maybe both she and Lucy were reading the boy wrong, Minerva mused. Maybe the worry and distrust had nothing to do with the triplets. Maybe he wanted his mother back and saw every new nanny as an interloper whose presence was a reminder that his mother wasn’t coming back.

Chapter Two

Minerva had never been so exhausted. Every muscle screamed at the thought of getting up out of the chair in the living room into which she’d collapsed after getting the triplets down for their afternoon rest. All morning she’d chased after them, played with them, soothed them and read to them. After lunch, she played with them some more, then everyone, including Lucy, had walked to the local elementary school where John attended kindergarten to meet him and walk him home.

Now he was playing within her view with his trucks on the wide slate area fronting the house. Seeing him glance toward the living-room window, she recalled how he’d hovered behind her the whole time she was putting the triplets down for their nap. It was clear to her now that the anxiousness she’d read on his face had been for his brother and sisters. His overt guardianship of them had begun when they’d met him at school.

“Did you have a good morning?” he’d asked them immediately.

They’d all giggled and nodded.

Certain she detected a sense of relief in him, Minerva again considered the possibility that one of the nannies had not been as kind to the children as the housekeeper had thought. Hoping to reassure him that she was to be trusted, she’d given him a friendly smile.

He had not returned her smile, letting her know she was still on trial.

Deciding that only time would convince the eldest of Judd Graham’s sons that she was safe to have around, Minerva forced her tired body out of the chair. This might be the only chance before dark that she would have to unload her car.

Still parked in front of the house, she decided to leave it where it was while she retrieved her things. That way she would be passing John constantly, thus allowing her to keep track of him. Several times today, the housekeeper had told her how responsible John was—“More like a little adult than a child” had been Lucy’s words. But Minerva didn’t want to take any chances. It was always possible that he might suddenly revert to childlike behavior and wander off.

Pausing beside him, she said, “I’m going to unpack my things. I’d like your word that you won’t go anywhere without telling me first.”

He looked up at her. “I won’t.”

She smiled her approval and continued to her car.

When she returned for a second load, she found him standing waiting for her. “Can I help?” he offered, brushing off his hands on his jeans to rid them of excess dirt.

The look on his face suggested he wasn’t certain he wanted her there but as long as she was, he would try to make the best of it. Or maybe he wanted to keep a closer eye on her. She was well aware that he seemed constantly to be covertly watching her. “Sure.”

He was too small to carry any of the boxes of books but there were some single miscellaneous items she hadn’t boxed. Picking up her desk lamp, she handed it to him. He waited until she’d picked up a box, then followed along behind.

“Where did you live before you came here?” he asked, setting the lamp on the desk in her room.

“At home with my father.”

“Where was your mother?”

She noted that he’d been quick to pick up her not mentioning her mother. “She died a long time ago.”

He merely nodded acknowledgment of her statement, showing no reaction.

Her own curiosity strong about her young charges, she asked, “Do you miss your mother?”

“No.” The word issued firmly. Then turning on his heels, he headed back to the car.

His mother’s desertion obviously hurt him so badly, he’s repressing it, Minerva reasoned. Pity for the child swept through her.

Following him to the car, she found him in the back seat, staring at her much-loved, much-worn teddy bear.

“You have a stuffed bear,” he said, looking at her as if to say he thought that was extremely childish of her.

“His name is Travis,” she replied, showing no reaction to his air of disapproval. “My grandmother gave him to me.”

“He looks old,” he noted.

“He is. I was just a year old when I got him.”

He regarded her with a patronizing frown. “Don’t you think you’re a little too old to be playing with stuffed animals?”

“I don’t play with him. I talk to him.”

His gaze narrowed as if he wasn’t quite certain she was sane. “You talk to him?”

“I tell him my problems and he listens and helps me figure out what to do.”

His expression became impatient. “He can’t help you figure out anything. He has stuffing for brains.”

Not wanting him to think she was truly a flake, she elaborated. “Well, he doesn’t talk back and that lets me work through my problem. I figure talking to a bear is better than taking to thin air.”

For a long moment, he considered this explanation, then nodded. “You’re right. You would look silly talking to nothing.” Obviously satisfied she wasn’t entirely loony, he picked up Travis and carried him into the house.

They were returning to her car when Judd Graham arrived home. Instead of pulling around her and continuing on to the garage area, he parked a little behind her.

Seeing his father, John’s face lit up with greeting. “Dad,” he yelled and ran to greet the man.

Minerva saw the answering greeting on Judd’s face. There was no doubt in her mind that this man truly loved his son. He lifted up the boy high above him. Then lowering him to give him a hug, he asked, “So how has the new nanny been working out?”

“She talks to a stuffed bear,” John replied.

Apparently her explanation hadn’t entirely appeased the boy, Minerva mused, feeling a flush of embarrassment building from her neck upward. Judd Graham, she guessed, was not the kind of man who would understand a grown woman’s attachment to her stuffed pal.

An uneasiness curled through Judd. Not wanting the boy to know he was concerned, he forced a hint of mischief into his voice. “Does she claim the bear talks back to her?”