Anna Meets Her Match. Arlene James

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Anna Meets Her Match - Arlene James


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      “I’ll walk you out, Anna.”

      “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she said.

      “I told Aunt Hypatia that I would see you out,” Reeves insisted, taking her by her arm.

      When they made their way into the foyer, he took both her hands in his.

      “Thank you for caring about my daughter,” he said, his molten gaze holding hers. “Thank you especially for spending time with her. It’s made a difference.”

      Anna nodded.

      Reeves then tucked one of her hands into the curve of his arm and stepped toward the front door.

      He looked at her, his smile matching hers. For one heartstopping moment their gazes held, and she actually wondered…He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead before dropping her hand and stepping back.

      He opened the front door, and she stumbled through it. “Good night.”

      “Good night.”

      He waited until she walked over to her car before closing the door behind her. Anna stood in the dark, staring up at the big silent house.

      It was perhaps the best moment of her life.

      MILLS & BOON

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      ARLENE JAMES

      says, “Camp meetings, mission work and church attendance permeate my Oklahoma childhood memories. It was a golden time, which sustains me yet. However, only as a young, widowed mother did I truly begin growing in my personal relationship with the Lord. Through adversity, He has blessed me in countless ways, one of which is a second marriage so loving and romantic it still feels like courtship!”

      The author of seventy novels, Arlene James now resides outside of Dallas, Texas, with her husband. Her need to write is greater than ever, a fact that frankly amazes her, as she’s been at it since the eighth grade! She loves to hear from readers and can be reached via her Web site at www.arlenejames.com.

      Anna Meets Her Match

      Arlene James

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

      —Romans 8:1

      I am often asked why, after all these years,

       I continue to write romance.

       The answer is very simple.

       I’ve been happily married for all this time to the same increasingly wonderful man.

       No wife has ever been more blessed in her husband, and no husband has ever given his wife more inspiration!

       Thank you, sweetheart.

       DAR

      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

      Epilogue

      Questions for Discussion

      Chapter One

      “Da-a-a-dy!” Gilli’s muffled voice called from the backseat of the silver sedan as Reeves Leland lifted the last of the suitcases from the trunk. “Out!” Gilli demanded, rattling the disabled door handle.

      He had parked the car beneath the porte cochere on the west side of the massive antebellum mansion known as Chatam House, where he and his daughter had come seeking sanctuary. “In a minute, Gilli,” he said, closing the trunk lid.

      Since turning three six months earlier, his daughter had grown increasingly difficult, as if he didn’t have enough problems. He thought of the letter that he’d recently received from his ex-wife. The divorce had been final for nearly a year, but she had suddenly decided that he hadn’t treated her fairly in the settlement. He shook his head, more pressing concerns crowding his mind. The most immediate had to do with housing.

      Honeybees had driven him and his daughter out of their home. Honeybees!

      Pausing in stunned contemplation Reeves felt the gray chill of an early February breeze permeate the camel-tan wool of his tailored overcoat. It rattled the dried leaves of the enormous magnolia tree on the west lawn like old bones, adding to the strangeness of the morning.

      Father in heaven, I’m so confused, he thought. Honeybees?

      Whatever God was doing in his life, he knew that he need not worry about his welcome here. He hadn’t even called ahead, so certain was he of that welcome, and he gave himself a moment now to bask in that certainty, his gaze wandering over stately fluted columns, white-painted stone walls and graceful redbrick steps leading to the deep porch and the vibrant yellow, paneled side door with its so proper black framing. Terra-cotta pots flanked this side entry. In the springtime, he knew, flowers would spill over their edges, presenting a colorful welcome that would echo throughout the fifteen-acre estate.

      Reeves had always loved this grand old house. The picturesque antebellum mansion and its grounds belonged to his aunts, the Chatam triplets, elder sisters of his mother. None of the aunties had ever married, but they were the first ones of whom Reeves had thought when the full weight of his situation had become clear to him.

      “Da-a-dy!” Gilli bellowed.

      “I’m coming. Hold on.”

      He took one step toward the side of the car before the sound of tires on gravel at the front of the house halted him. Turning away from his impatient daughter, he trudged to the corner of the building. A battered, foreign-made coupe pulled up at the front of the mansion. Reeves stared in appreciation at the slender blonde in dark clothing who hopped out. Lithe and energetic, with a cap of soft, wispy hair, she moved with unconscious grace. As if sensing his regard, she looked up, and shock reverberated through him. Recognizing Anna Miranda Burdett, his old childhood nemesis, Reeves frowned.

      Well, that was all this day needed. Back during their school days she had done everything in her power to make his life miserable, which was why they hadn’t spoken in years, though her grandmother Tansy was a friend of his aunties. Her pranks were legendary, and he’d once had the dubious honor of being her favorite target. She’d made a travesty of his senior year, his young male pride taking a regular beating at her hands. Given his current problems,


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