by Sheryl Lynn
“Wow,” Daniel said. “A woman as crazy as I am. I’m in love. Many me.”
She cupped his dear, dear face in both hands. In front of everybody, despite her father striding toward her, she kissed him fully on the mouth.
JANINE FROWNED AT A RECEIPT, wondering why in the world Chef needed a mandolin. She circled the item in red to remind her to ask him why he needed musical instruments in the kitchen. Familiar whistling floated to her ears and business concerns faded.
Daniel. He’d done more than save her life, in the past six months he’d saved her sanity. After Pinky, she’d suffered such horrendous insomnia and anxiety, she’d finally met with a therapist. She’d been depressed and angry and afraid of her own shadow. Through it all, Daniel stood by her, enduring her moods and patiently helping her recover. She was getting better. She could go days at a time now without brooding over Pinky and the tragedy he’d nearly visited upon her family.
He strolled into the office and plopped an odd-looking plastic thing on her desk. He looked so handsome in his cream-colored linen suit he nearly hurt her eyes. She never tired of looking at him.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“It’s a toy.” He turned it over and viscous blue liquid bubbled and curled lazily as it dripped languidly through a funnel spout. He leaned on her desk and she met him halfway in a kiss.
“Thank you. It’s cute...I think.” She picked up the strange receipt. “You like to cook, right? Why would a cook need a mandolin?”
“It’s a slicer-dicer gadget. Why? You want one?”
“Never mind.” Trust him to always have an answer. “But you’re early. I still have work to do.”
“I have a problem.” He flopped onto the sofa and stretched out his legs. “It’s serious. Life and death.”
She typed a Save command on the computer keyboard. “Oh? What’s that?”
“There’s this girl. I’m obsessed with her.”
She smiled to herself. “That sounds very sad, dear.”
“It is. I see her every weekend, talk to her on the phone every day. Wine and dine her. Impress her with my manliness every chance I get. It’s still not enough. I’m lost without her.”
She bit back a laugh. The more time she spent with him, the more she liked him. The more she loved him. He loved her, too. He told her so at least twice a day.
“Has it ever occurred to you that you’re greedy?”
He frowned comically. “Nope. I’m rich, good-looking, a good dancer.” He ran a thumb under his lapel. “Snazzy dresser. But not greedy.”
“Don’t forget conceited.” She swiveled the chair and rested an elbow on the desk and her chin on her fist. “So why is this a problem? Sounds very nice to me.”
“The real problem is, she promised me a honeymoon. She won’t cough it up.”
“I told you already, you can have that vacation anytime you want it.”
“No vacation. I want a honeymoon. That’s the deal.”
His antics had ceased to amaze her, or so she thought. But an undercurrent of seriousness gave her pause. “Well, in order to have a honeymoon, you need to get married.”
“Okay.”
Her heart thump-thudded. She loved him so much it frightened her sometimes. The sound of his voice on the telephone left her floating all day. Their dates on the weekends filled her with happiness. He’d changed her whole life, and not just concerning Pinky, either. Around him she relaxed. She experienced joy. As an added bonus, her family adored him.
“Is that supposed to be some kind of proposal?” she asked tartly.
“What do you want, honey? Flowers, champagne, overpriced ring, bended knee?”
She thought about it. “Yes, I suppose I do.”
He jumped off the sofa and hurried out of the room.
She stared openmouthed at his sudden departure. When would she ever learn that she couldn’t have her way in all things? She rose to run after him, but he returned.
He carried a bouquet of roses so large it obscured his face. Wheels squeaked on the cart he pulled into the office. It held champagne on ice and two crystal flutes. Attached to the cart were helium-filled, heart-shaped, foil balloons trailing pink, purple and green ribbons. Grinning, he placed the flowers on the desk and the intoxicating scent enveloped her, stunned her.
“Sit,” he ordered. She sat. He dropped to one knee before her and presented her with a velvet ring box. He opened it with a flourish, revealing a huge blue diamond solitaire set in ethereal platinum. Her heart nearly stopped. “I love you with all my heart and soul, Janine. Marry me. I promise to love, cherish and spoil you rotten for the rest of my life.”
He’d seen her at her best, and he’d seen her at her worst—he loved her, anyway. She couldn’t think of a better recommendation than that.
She said simply, “Yes.”
ISBN : 978-1-4592-5129-8
UNDERCOVER FIANCÉ
Copyright © 1999 by Jaye W. Manus
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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Table of Contents
Table of Contents
“About your fee—”
Letter to Reader
Dedication
CAST OF CHARACTERS
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
Copyright
