Married By Midnight. Judith Stacy
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“Do you routinely have so many women in your bedchamber?”
“Only ones I’m related to.” His grin turned devilish. “Unfortunately.”
The heat inside Amanda boiled, spread through her, weakening her knees. The mere presence of this man two feet away called to her, urged her to move closer, as if he somehow held a power over her she could not resist.
And didn’t want to resist.
“So, anyway,” Nick said, “I came to apologize for my state of dress just now.”
“The lack of it, you mean?”
He grinned again. “Yes. I hope you weren’t offended.”
“Traumatized beyond recovery,” Amanda declared. “I’ll probably have to spend the rest of the day in bed.”
His grin blossomed into a full smile and his gaze dipped to her toes, then rose to her face once more in a swift, hot sweep.
Amanda’s cheeks burned as his gaze caressed her….
Praise for Judith Stacy’s recent titles
THE NANNY
“…one of the most entertaining and sweetly satisfying tales I’ve had the pleasure to encounter.”
—The Romance Reader
THE BLUSHING BRIDE
“…lovable characters that grab your heartstrings…a fun read all the way.”
—Rendezvous
THE DREAMMAKER
“…a delightful story of the triumph of love.”
—Rendezvous
THE HEART OF A HERO
“Judith Stacy is a fine writer with both polished style and heartwarming sensitivity.”
—Bestselling author Pamela Morsi
#619 BORDER BRIDE
Deborah Hale
#620 BADLANDS LAW
Ruth Langan
#621 A PERILOUS ATTRACTION
Patricia Frances Rowell
Married by Midnight
Judith Stacy
Available from Harlequin Historicals and
JUDITH STACY
Outlaw Love #360
The Marriage Mishap #382
The Heart of a Hero #444
The Dreammaker #486
Written in the Heart #500
The Blushing Bride #521
One Christmas Wish #531
“Christmas Wishes”
The Last Bride in Texas #541
The Nanny #561
Married by Midnight #622
To David—my Superman
To Judy and Stacy—my Kryptonite
Contents
Chapter One
Los Angeles, 1896
Another wedding. Her third in as many months. Could she really be expected to show excitement about yet another trip down the aisle?
At least none of the weddings had been her own.
Trying to look interested in the chatter of the three other young women in the bedchamber, Amanda Van Patton eased onto the foot of her friend’s bed and gripped the carved post. Trousseaus, invitations, china patterns. Amanda feared she might scream if she heard those words one more time.
“ Oh, and look at this.” Cecilia Hastings, the bride-to-be, pulled another trousseau gown from her massive redwood closet and held it in front of her.
It was a promenade dress, pale teal with a matching parasol and hat that Amanda admitted would look wonderful on Cecilia, with her dark hair and green eyes. Another round of “ oohs” and “ aahs” rippled from the other women. Amanda managed an “ oh, lovely.”
Perhaps if she weren’t so tired she might enjoy this impromptu fashion show, she decided, as Cecilia emerged from her closet with a lavender-and-ivory