by Metsy Hingle
“Me? But I resigned as sales director. You can’t just appoint me as the general manager.”
“I didn’t appoint you. You inherited the job as majority owner of the Saint Charles.” Chase took her hands, and Madeline realized that his were shaking. “It’s yours now, Princess. Or at least the two-thirds that I bought from Majestic. I had it signed over to you.”
“Why?” she asked, stunned.
“Because I love you, and I knew how much you loved this hotel. Even if you don’t love me anymore and can’t forgive me for what I’ve done, I couldn’t keep the hotel. It’s a part of you and should have been yours. Now it is.”
“You can’t do that. You can’t just give me the hotel.”
“Too late. I already did. The papers transferring my ownership to you are in an envelope over there on your desk. The Saint Charles is yours now.”
Madeline whipped her gaze to where a fat legal envelope rested between two vases of the roses and then back to Chase. “But what will you do? I mean, you don’t have a job anymore with Majestic. My father said you gave up your interest in the partnership and the other properties it owns in exchange for the Saint Charles.”
Chase shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about opening up a hotel consulting firm. There are a lot of hotels in New Orleans. I might be able to offer them the benefit of my experience with Majestic.”
Hope bloomed inside her. “You mean you would stay here? Not go back to New Jersey?”
“That’s right. I thought I’d stick around and see if I could convince you to let me fill the job of being your lover, maybe try to work my way up to the position of husband.”
He gave her that wicked grin, and Madeline’s heart began to stammer. Chase loved her. The knowledge washed over her, filling her with joy.
“What do you say? Any chance of you giving me the job? I know a lot about the inner workings of hotels.”
Madeline gave him a once-over. “I don’t know,” she said soberly and ruined it by grinning. “The hotel business is a crazy way of life. You’d have to put in lots of long, crazy hours. It would mean lots of overtime and you’d have to be willing to work nights.”
“I don’t mind,” he told her, tugging her into his arms. He smiled at her. Devilment gleamed in his eyes. “I do some of my best work at night.”
And then his mouth was on hers, kissing her, loving her, showing her how much she meant to him, because he didn’t think he could find the words to tell her. When he lifted his head, Chase stared into those wondrous green eyes.
“You’re hired,” she whispered and dragged his mouth back to hers. And as she opened to him, the years of loneliness, the weeks of loving her and believing she was lost to him were over. At long last he was home.
* * * * *
eISBN 978-14592-7901-8
BACKFIRE
Copyright © 1996 by Metsy Hingle
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 editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.
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.
® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Books S.A., used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
Printed in U.S.A.
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Excerpt
Dear Reader
Title Page
Books by Metsy Hingle
About the Author
Dedication
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Copyright
