ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      Cathy Gillen Thacker married her high school sweetheart and hasn’t had a dull moment since. Why, you ask? Well, there were three kids, various pets, any number of automobiles, several moves across the country, his and her careers, and sundry other experiences. But mostly, there was love and friendship and laughter, and lots of experiences she wouldn’t trade for the world.

      You can find out more about Cathy and her books at www.cathygillenthacker.com, and you can write her c/o Harlequin Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017.

      Who’s Who in the Deveraux Family

      Tom Deveraux—The head of the family and CEO of the Deveraux shipping empire that has been handed down through the generations.

      Grace Deveraux—Estranged from Tom for years, but back in town—after a personal tragedy—for some much-needed family support.

      Chase Deveraux—The eldest son, and the biggest playboy in the greater Charleston area.

      Mitch Deveraux—A chip off the old block and about to double the size of the family business via a business/marriage arrangement.

      Dr. Gabe Deveraux—The “Goodest” Samaritan around. Any damsels in distress in need of the good doctor’s assistance…?

      Amy Deveraux—The baby sister. She’s determined to reunite her parents.

      Winnifred Deveraux Smith—Tom’s widowed sister. The social doyenne of Charleston, she’s determined never to marry. That’s not what she has in mind for her niece and nephews, though.

      Herry Bowles—The butler. Distinguished, indispensable and devoted to his boss, Winnifred.

      Eleanor—The Deveraux ancestor with whom the legacy of ill-fated love began.

      Contents

      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

      Chapter One

      “Look, I don’t want to upset your sister—obviously she has enough on her plate right now—but I’ve got to be honest with you. I don’t think this is going to work,” Amy Deveraux told Nick Everton the moment she came face-to-face with him on his sister Lola’s doorstep. “Not on any twenty-four-hours-a-day, seven-days-a-week basis, anyway.”

      For once in her life, Amy was going to be practical—instead of emotional. She was going to let her actions be ruled by her head, not her heart. And there was simply no way Amy could share such intimate quarters with this man and the adorable three month old baby Nick cradled awkwardly in his arms.

      Forget that Nick Everton was the most drop-dead gorgeous, thirty-six-year-old guy Amy had ever seen. Forget that he was successful, smart, funny—according to Lola, anyway—and genuinely dependable and chivalrous. Or that he was kin to one of her best friends. Nick Everton was just too darn big and physically imposing. Amy guessed he was at least two-hundred and twenty pounds of solid muscle on a six-foot-five frame. His shoulders were broad, his waist trim. And he looked great in his dark-blue suit and slate-blue shirt and tie.

      “I thought I was supposed to be the one heading for the hills,” Nick said, as he propped a hiccuping Dexter against his shoulder and patted his nephew clumsily on the back. Nick’s light-gray eyes gleamed as he took Amy in with the same steady-but-curious appraisal Amy was giving him. “Me, being a guy and all…”

      Amy forced her glance away from the wind-tossed strands of Nick’s ash-blond hair and ruggedly handsome face. “So maybe we could just split the baby-sitting duties, fifty-fifty,” Amy continued, determined to work this out rationally, in a way that was acceptable to all three of the adults involved.

      Nick shrugged. “Sounds good to me,” he said, the corners of his masculine lips lifting in an enticing smile.

      “There’s only one problem with that,” Lola interrupted as she came out to join them on the raised porch of her South Carolina low-country cottage. She shot an affectionate look at her brother before taking Dexter from him and ushering Nick and Amy inside. “Nick’s never baby-sat for Dexter, Amy. You have.”

      Only once, Amy thought, when Lola’d had a doctor’s appointment. Dexter had been asleep the entire time. Amy hadn’t had to do a thing except watch over the little angel. “Nick and Dexter seem to be getting along now,” Amy pointed out as she tried to avoid the tantalizing sandalwood cologne clinging to his skin. Nick might not know much about how to hold a baby, as had been evidenced by his awkwardness with his nephew, but Dexter had cuddled against Nick’s powerful shoulders and chest willingly and instinctively.

      “Nick also knows nothing about taking care of babies. In fact, it’s my guess my brother has never so much as changed a diaper,” Lola continued, stating her case matter-of-factly.

      Nick shrugged and shoved