Conflict of Interest (The McClouds of Mississippi)
The gleam in his eyes made her pulse speed up.
“You know all those times we talked on the phone?” His fingers slid down the curve of her jaw. “I didn’t picture you looking quite like this.”
She had to move now, before she did something really foolish and unprofessional—like make a pass at her client.
“I think I’ll read for a while before I turn in,” she said, scooting away from him. “I can’t wait to read your new book, by the way. I’m really looking forward to it.”
He studied her face for a moment, his gaze so intense that she wondered if he saw too much there, but then he asked, “How would you like to read it now?”
“I would love to.”
He seemed amused by the fervency of her assurance. “Go on back and put your feet up, and I’ll bring the manuscript to you.”
“In the bedroom, you mean?”
There was an undercurrent of laughter in his voice as his eyes met hers. “That sounds good to me.”
Dear Reader,
Your best bet for coping with April showers is to run—not walk—to your favorite retail outlet and check out this month’s lineup. We’d like to highlight popular author Laurie Paige and her new miniseries SEVEN DEVILS. Laurie writes, “On my way to a writers’ conference in Denver, I spotted the Seven Devils Mountains. This had to be checked out! Sure enough, the rugged, fascinating land proved to be ideal for a bunch of orphans who’d been demanding that their stories be told.” You won’t want to miss Showdown!, the second book in the series, which is about a barmaid and a sheriff destined for love!
Gina Wilkins dazzles us with Conflict of Interest, the second book in THE MCCLOUDS OF MISSISSIPPI series, which deals with the combustible chemistry between a beautiful literary agent and her ruggedly handsome and reclusive author. Can they have some fun without love taking over the relationship? Don’t miss Marilyn Pappano’s The Trouble with Josh, which features a breast cancer survivor who decides to take life by storm and make the most of everything—but she never counts on sexy cowboy Josh Rawlins coming into the mix.
In Peggy Webb’s The Mona Lucy, a meddling but well-meaning mother attempts to play Cupid to her son and a beautiful artist who is painting her portrait. Karen Rose Smith brings us Expecting the CEO’s Baby, an adorable tale about a mix-up at the fertility clinic and a marriage of convenience between two strangers. And in Lisette Belisle’s His Pretend Wife, an accident throws an ex-con and an ex-debutante together, making them discover that rather than enemies, they just might be soul mates!
As you can see, we have a variety of stories for our readers, which explore the essentials—life, love and family. Stay tuned next month for six more top picks from Special Edition!
Sincerely,
Karen Taylor Richman
Senior Editor
Conflict of Interest
GINA WILKINS
For John, who is still my strongest supporter after all these years.
Books by Gina Wilkins
Silhouette Special Edition
The Father Next Door #1082
It Could Happen To You #1119
Valentine Baby #1153
†Her Very Own Family #1243
†That First Special Kiss #1269
Surprise Partners #1318
**The Stranger in Room 205 #1399
**Bachelor Cop Finally Caught? #1413
**Dateline Matrimony #1424
The Groom’s Stand-In #1460
The Best Man’s Plan #1479
*The Family Plan #1525
*Conflict of Interest #1531
Silhouette Books
World’s Most Eligible Bachelors
Doctor in Disguise
Previously published as Gina Ferris
Silhouette Special Edition
Healing Sympathy #496
Lady Beware #549
In from the Rain #677
Prodigal Father #711
§Full of Grace #793
§Hardworking Man #806
§Fair and Wise #819
§Far To Go #862
§Loving and Giving #879
Babies on Board #913
Previously published as Gina Ferris Wilkins
Silhouette Special Edition
‡ A Man for Mom #955
‡A Match for Celia #967
‡A Home for Adam #980
‡Cody’s Fiancée #1006
Silhouette Books
Mother’s Day Collection 1995
Three Mothers and a Cradle
“Beginnings”
GINA WILKINS
is a bestselling and award-winning author who has written more than sixty-five books for Harlequin and Silhouette. She credits her successful career in romance to her long, happy marriage and her three “extraordinary” children.
A lifelong resident of central Arkansas, Ms. Wilkins sold her first book to Harlequin in 1987 and has been writing full-time ever since. She has appeared on the Waldenbooks, B. Dalton and USA TODAY bestseller lists. She is a three-time recipient of the Maggie Award for Excellence, sponsored by Georgia Romance Writers, and has won several awards from the reviewers of Romantic Times.
Contents
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Prologue
After the thirteenth unanswered ring, Adrienne Corley slammed her telephone into its cradle. She wasn’t the type to lose her temper very often, but Gideon McCloud could provoke a saint into a tantrum.
It was the fifth time in the past three days that she had attempted to reach him. His answering machine had broken several weeks ago and he hadn’t bothered to replace it, so she couldn’t leave a message. She’d sent e-mails, but apparently he hadn’t checked those in a while, either.
The worst part was that she suspected he was sitting right there beside the phone, listening to it ring and choosing not to answer.
“I do not need this aggravation,” she grumbled, glaring at the phone as if her scowl would carry through the lines to the man she had been trying to reach. “I could get an easier job, you know. Working in a bank. A library, maybe. Even digging ditches would have to be better than working with eccentric, temperamental authors.”
“Threatening to quit again?” Jacqueline Peeples, her administrative assistant, asked as she set a mountain of mail on Adrienne’s desk.
“Someday I’m going through with that threat.”
“Yeah, right. Tell that to your daddy.”
Adrienne transferred her glare from the telephone to her co-worker. “I’m not afraid of my father. If I choose to quit his literary agency, I’m certainly free to do so.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Jacqueline had heard that before, of course. She didn’t believe it any more than Adrienne did. “At least you’ve got your vacation coming up. If I’ve ever seen anyone who needs two weeks away from the office, it’s you. So don’t you let your father try to talk you out of it again.”
“I won’t,” Adrienne vowed. “I’ve earned this vacation—the first I’ve taken in three years—and I’m going to enjoy every day of it. I’m so tired of schedules and appointments that I haven’t even made any plans for the next two weeks. I’m going to act completely on impulse, take every minute as it comes.�
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“That sounds like exactly what you need. But in the meantime, what are you going to do about Gideon McCloud?”
“I’m going to make him talk to me—even if I have to fly to Honesty, Mississippi, and break into his house.”
Jacqueline laughed, as Adrienne had intended. “Now that I would like to see.”
“Me, breaking into his house?”
“No. You in Mississippi.”
The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like a brilliant solution. Just the sort of gutsy, tough-guy move her father would make. Gideon McCloud was curt, blunt and reclusive, but he was a talented writer with a great future ahead of him, and she intended to grab a percentage of that future.
“Book me a flight,” she said without giving herself a chance to think about it. “Early next week, preferably. That will give me time to get everything here cleared away.”
Jacqueline’s eyebrows rose. “You can’t be serious. You want to go to Mississippi to meet with an author during your vacation?”
The more she thought about it, the better the idea seemed—though, of course, she was overworked and overstressed. She nodded slowly, her resolve strengthening. “It’ll only take a day or two, and I’ve never been to Mississippi, so I can count that as a vacation trip. Two birds with one stone. Let’s just see if Gideon McCloud can ignore me when I’m staring directly into his eyes.”
Chapter One
Gideon McCloud’s telephone rang several times Monday, but he ignored it so effectively he hardly heard it. In a moment of weakness earlier that morning, he had answered a call. The unfortunate telemarketer’s ears were probably still ringing from the force with which Gideon had slammed the receiver back into its cradle. He had an almost pathological aversion to telemarketers; hence, his general reluctance to answer his telephone.
He really should replace his answering machine, he mused when he became aware that the phone was ringing yet again. Maybe he would get around to that sometime later in the week. Then he focused on his computer screen and tuned everything else out.
Perhaps another half hour passed before he was distracted from work by his doorbell. It chimed half a dozen times, followed by a pounding on the door, followed by someone leaning on the doorbell again.
Muttering beneath his breath, he shoved himself away from the keyboard and stalked through his immaculate house to the front door, which he jerked open impatiently. “What?”
A tall, slender woman in her early sixties stood on his doorstep, holding the hand of a blond cherub with shoulder-length curls and huge blue eyes. A large, wheeled, red suitcase rested on the porch between them, and the little girl carried a bulging purple backpack. Gideon frowned at the luggage for a moment before slowly lifting his gaze to his mother’s face. “What’s going on?”
“If you would pick up your telephone, you would already know the answer to that.” Without waiting for an invitation, Lenore McCloud stepped past him into his entryway, dragging the suitcase with one hand and holding the little girl’s hand in her other.
Gideon closed the door behind them, then turned to face his mother. He was still unnerved by the sight of that suitcase. “Well?”
“Your aunt Wanda fell during the night and broke her hip. It was several hours before anyone found her, and she’s in bad shape now. Her neighbor called me a couple of hours ago, and I need to go there immediately.”
Because his aunt was the only surviving member of his mother’s immediate family, Gideon wasn’t surprised she felt the need to rush to Wanda’s side. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope she’ll be okay.”
“Yes, so do I.” Lenore glanced down at the still-silent little girl. “Isabelle, sweetie, the den is right through that door. Why don’t you run in there and watch cartoons for a few minutes while I talk with Gideon?”
The child nodded obediently and disappeared into the den. A moment later Gideon heard the opening strains of “Scooby-dooby-doo…”
“Why is she watching cartoons in my den?” he asked his mother suspiciously.
“Isabelle’s going to stay with you until I can make other arrangements. I hope it will only be for a few days, but I can’t make any guarantees.”
Shaking his head, Gideon had both hands in the air before she even finished speaking. “No way, Mom. Forget it. You can’t leave her here.”
Lenore wore the stern, don’t-mess-with-me expression he remembered very well from his youth. “There really is no other choice. Nathan and Caitlin won’t be back from their honeymoon for nearly two weeks. Deborah went back to Florida yesterday. And I can hardly take a four-year-old with me to the hospital.”
“What about the housekeeper who watches Isabelle while Nathan’s working? Can’t she stay with her?”
“Mrs. Tuckerman left right after the wedding Saturday for a two-week cruise with her bridge club. It seemed like a good idea for her vacation to coincide with Nathan’s honeymoon, especially since I had volunteered to watch Isabelle. No one could have predicted Wanda’s accident, of course.”
Gideon could feel the cage bars closing around him, but he tried one last time to escape. “Surely there’s someone else. I have to work, and you know how I get when I’m past deadline. Leaving a four-year-old with me probably constitutes reckless endangerment of a minor or something.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re perfectly capable of watching Isabelle for a few days. She’s a very well-behaved child, no trouble at all. She’s in preschool from eight in the morning until two in the afternoon, so you can work in your usual solitude during those hours.”
“And after two? What am I supposed to do with her then?”
“You’re an intelligent young man. You’ll manage.”
“I don’t want to manage. You can’t leave her here.”
“Fine.” Lenore gave him a wounded look. “Since I have no other options, I’ll take Isabelle back to my house. I’ll call my poor sister and tell her I can’t come to her when she needs me because it isn’t convenient for my son.”
He groaned. “Mother—”
She held up a hand. “It’s all right. I understand. You’re an important writer, and your time is very valuable.”
The cage doors slammed shut. Gideon was trapped, and he knew it. He sighed. “Go to your sister. I’ll watch the kid.”
If Lenore had harbored any doubt that he would eventually capitulate, it didn’t show in her expression. She pulled a folded sheet of paper from the leather purse dangling from her arm. “This is the schedule Nathan and Caitlin left for me with Isabelle’s preschool and dance class times.”
“Dance class?”
Ignoring his groan, she continued, “You also have the phone numbers for her school and her pediatrician, and a number where Nathan can be reached in an emergency. I’ve written a couple of numbers for myself at the bottom of the page, and you have my cell number, of course.”
“How long do you expect to be gone?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll let you know as soon as I can. Isabelle had lunch at school today, of course, and I gave her a snack after I picked her up. She’ll probably be hungry for dinner around six, and she should be in bed by eight. Try to make sure she eats healthily. Don’t let her have too many snacks or junk foods. Now I really must be on my way, since I have a two-hour drive ahead of me. I’ll just step in to say goodbye to Isabelle.”
His footsteps dragging, Gideon followed Lenore into his den. Isabelle sat curled on one corner of his suede-leather sofa, the cartoon she had selected playing on the television across the room. She looked away from the screen when they entered, her expression uncertain. “I’m staying here?”
“For a few days,” Lenore agreed, giving the child a bracing smile. “You’ll be fine, sweetie. Your big brother will take very good care of you.”
Because he wasn’t used to thinking of himself as Isabelle’s big brother—after all, he’d met the child for the first time less than four months ago—it took him a beat to realize that his mother expected him to
say something then. “You’re welcome to stay here, Isabelle.”
He didn’t blame her for looking less than enthusiastic. She was probably well aware that he was completely ill-equipped to care for a small child. Though he knew she was gregarious and talkative with other people—even total strangers—she had been rather reserved with him during the few occasions they’d been together. She had treated him with a somewhat wary shyness that had told him she didn’t quite know what to make of him, and since he’d never decided quite what he felt about her, he’d been content to leave things just that way between them. Distantly civil.
He’d certainly never expected to find himself babysitting her.
“I have to go, sweetie. Be good for Gideon, okay? And be patient with him,” Lenore said a bit wryly. “Sometimes he’s a slow learner. But he’ll be very nice to you,” she added, giving her son a meaningful look.
Isabelle wrapped her arms around Lenore’s neck. “Goodbye, Nanna. I hope your sister gets all better soon.”
Gideon still found it strange to hear his half sister refer to his mother by that grandmotherly nickname. It hadn’t been very long ago when Lenore hadn’t even wanted to acknowledge the child’s existence. Now here she was taking full responsibility for her ex-husband’s kid while her oldest son, the orphaned child’s legal guardian, was away on his honeymoon, and hugging her as affectionately as if she really were Isabelle’s grandmother.
It was no wonder, Gideon mused with a shake of his head, that most people in this town tended to think of Lenore, a tireless, generous community volunteer, as a near saint. They had no such illusions about him, however.
Ten minutes later he found himself alone with a four-year-old who gazed up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say or do something. He didn’t have a clue where to begin.
He glanced at his watch. It wasn’t even 4:00 p.m. yet. Too early for dinner. Four hours away from her bedtime. “So, uh, do you want a drink or something?” he asked awkwardly. “I have some soda, I think. And fruit juice.”