Just the Husband She Chose Read online

  When Hunter had touched Eve, so many old feelings had come rushing back along with new ones.

  She’d agreed to his conditions, not only to save her inheritance, but also to rescue her dreams. Hunter had been the man of her dreams, and she hadn’t realized it. When she’d met Hunter and talked with him and laughed with him and come to know the true definition of attraction, it had all taken her by surprise. He had taken her by surprise.

  Five years ago there had been a recklessness about him that told the rest of the world to be damned because he was going to get exactly what he wanted. She’d never known recklessness or impulsiveness. He’d been a man who’d known how to take risks, and she’d been scared by that. Now she was the one taking the risk, and he seemed guarded.

  Tonight they both needed time to think about this marriage of convenience—what they expected and where it could take them….

  Dear Reader,

  From the enchantment of first loves to the wonder of second chances, Silhouette Romance demonstrates the power of genuine emotion. This month we continue our yearlong twentieth anniversary celebration with another stellar lineup, including the return of beloved author Dixie Browning with Cinderella’s Midnight Kiss.

  Next, Raye Morgan delivers a charming marriage-of-convenience story about a secretary who is Promoted—To Wife! And Silhouette Romance begins a new theme-based promotion, AN OLDER MAN, which highlights stories featuring sophisticated older men who meet their matches in younger, inexperienced women. Our premiere title is Professor and the Nanny by reader favorite Phyllis Halldorson.

  Bestselling author Judy Christenberry unveils her new miniseries, THE CIRCLE K SISTERS, in Never Let You Go. When a millionaire businessman wins an executive assistant at an auction, he discovers that he wants her to be Contractually His…forever. Don’t miss this conclusion of Myrna Mackenzie’s THE WEDDING AUCTION series. And in Karen Rose Smith’s Just the Husband She Chose, a powerful attorney is reunited in a marriage meant to satisfy a will.

  In coming months, look for new miniseries by some of your favorite authors. It’s an exciting year for Silhouette Books, and we invite you to join the celebration!

  Happy reading!

  Mary-Theresa Hussey

  Senior Editor

  JUST THE HUSBAND SHE CHOSE

  Karen Rose Smith

  To Terry Himmelheber with appreciation and thanks.

  Books by Karen Rose Smith

  Silhouette Romance *Adam’s Vow #1075

  *Always Daddy #1102

  *Shane’s Bride #1128

  †Cowboy at the Wedding #1171

  †Most Eligible Dad #1174

  †A Groom and a Promise #1181

  The Dad Who Saved Christmas #1267

  ‡Wealth, Power and a Proper Wife #1320

  ‡ Love, Honor and a Pregnant Bride #1326

  ‡Promises, Pumpkins and Prince Charming #1332

  The Night Before Baby #1348

  ‡Wishes, Waltzes and a Storybook Wedding #1407

  Just the Man She Needed #1434

  Just the Husband She Chose #1455

  Silhouette Special Edition Abigail and Mistletoe #930

  The Sheriff’s Proposal #1074

  Previously published under the pseudonym Kari Sutherland

  Silhouette Romance Heartfire, Homefire #973

  Silhouette Special Edition Wish on the Moon #741

  KAREN ROSE SMITH

  lives in Pennsylvania with her husband of twenty-nine years. Creating her two most recent books about heroes who are twins was both challenging and fun for her. She believes in happily-ever-afters, and writing about them brings her great joy. A former teacher, she now writes romances full-time. She likes to hear from readers, and they can write to her at: P.O. Box 1545, Hanover, PA 17331.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Will you marry me?

  The bold question had Eve Ruskin shaking in her black patent high heels this sunny April morning. It wasn’t just the question. It was the idea of posing it to Hunter Coleburn that made her hands clammy and her heart race, never mind that she wasn’t used to the higher altitude in Denver. Never mind that her life was about to take a 180-degree turn. Never mind the stipulation in her father’s will that had dealt a second blow after his death.

  When she pulled open the heavy glass door to the office building that housed a variety of professional firms, she saw the directory on the wall inside the lobby. She quickly crossed to it and found Hunter’s name. His law practice was located on the sixth floor.

  Stopping in the powder room off the lobby, she checked her makeup, the cut of her shoulder-length hair that kept her black waves manageable, and her two-piece fuchsia-and-black suit. She had to look perfect. She had to be perfect. She had to get this over with before she fell apart.

  During her ride to the sixth floor, she vividly remembered the last time she’d seen Hunter…and the grim set of his jaw when she’d refused his marriage proposal. Five years ago at nineteen, she’d been young, inexperienced and still under her father’s thumb. Since she had been protected all of her life, the idea of leaving her home and everything she’d known had terrified her. Hunter had swept her off her feet in a very short time, but she’d known little about him and had no vision of the life they might share. He’d been older, sophisticated and experienced with women. Hunter had been building a specialized practice in international law and had wanted her to leave her home in Savannah, fly to Italy with him and marry him. But the whirlwind of emotions she’d experienced had scared her as much as Hunter’s intensity had. She’d told him goodbye and he’d left to build his life, his career, and to find satisfaction with another woman.

  When she’d phoned his hotel in Florence…

  Eve pushed aside the memory of that phone call, as well as the memories of her pregnancy and miscarriage.

  A few minutes later, she stood before the glass door with Hunter’s name painted on it. She stepped inside, encompassed by the feel and silent sound of luxury. The plush camel carpeting muted her footsteps as she approached the receptionist’s desk.

  Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin high, she said, “I’d like to see Hunter Coleburn.”

  The receptionist, who looked to be in her fifties, dropped her tortoiseshell reading glasses onto their gold chain and paid attention to Eve. “I’m sorry. You must have the wrong day and time. Mr. Coleburn doesn’t have any appointments this morning.”

  Not to be turned away when she’d come this far, Eve kept her tone calm. “I’m sure if you tell Mr. Coleburn I’m here, he’ll see me. My name is Eve Ruskin.”

  The secretary’s gaze appraised Eve again and, for the first time in her life, Eve was grateful her father had sent her to Miss Berry’s Finishing School…grateful she’d been taught how to receive her father’s clients with decorum, thankful her Southern breeding had taught her to be every inch a lady.

  “Are you a client of Mr. Coleburn’s?” the gray-haired woman asked with an arched brow.

  Obviously, this was Hunter’s gatekeeper, but Eve intended to speak with him this morning if she had to walk down the hall and find him herself.

  “No, I’m not a client,” she said without further explanation.

  But the woman wouldn’t give up. “And the nature of your…visit?”

  “That depends on Hunter,” Eve replied sweetly, using every bit of her Southern charm.

&nbs
p; Hunter’s receptionist looked startled for a moment, then recovered. “I’ll see if he has a few moments,” she said politely.

  Though relief washed over Eve, she couldn’t congratulate herself yet. She’d done some checking and found a recent article about Hunter in the style section of last month’s Denver Chronicle. He’d been photographed with a beautiful blond woman’s arm hooked through his, but there had been more than one comment about his bachelor status. He wasn’t married, yet that didn’t mean he wasn’t involved with someone…maybe even the blonde, whose fashion company had hired him to do their legal work overseas.

  The receptionist lifted the receiver on the console to her right and pressed a button. Then she said, “There’s a woman to see you, Mr. Coleburn. Her name is Eve Ruskin.”

  Eve’s heart pounded in her ears.

  After a few moments, the receptionist frowned and hung up the phone. “He said to send you back. It’s the last door on the left.”

  With a smile and a “thank you,” Eve clutched her purse much too tightly and walked down the hall. The decor of the office suite was burled walnut, forest-green and shades of brown. The first office door stood open and Eve glimpsed a woman, probably in her twenties, wearing a headset. She was transcribing. The second door was labeled Conference Room. Across from it was a space that looked very much like a living room, with its leather couches and chairs and occasional tables. There was a bathroom next door.

  Finally Eve stood in front of Hunter’s office. She’d lost her spirit after her miscarriage. But her father’s death had made her reassess her life. She was going to forge a new course. The question was whether she had the nerve to forge it with Hunter and whether enough time had passed that he could forgive her. The hardwood door was half open, and she stepped inside.

  Hunter was seated at a massive desk with folders and papers spread all around him. His black leather chair was high-backed, and his white dress shirt was a contrast against it. He wore a black-and-robin-egg-blue silk tie, and when he looked up from the folder in front of him, her heart almost stopped. His coal-black hair was parted on the side and swept casually over his brow. His face was ruggedly handsome and tanned, and she remembered he liked to ski when he could. Of course, he might have picked up that tan on the French Riviera, too. But what she noticed most was the remoteness in his blue eyes and the lack of expression on his face.

  “Hello, Hunter.”

  When he pushed back his chair and rose to his feet, she thought he might come around the desk to greet her. But he didn’t. He stood tall and silent, appraising her in one long look.

  “Hello, Eve.”

  The silence that stretched between them was hers to break. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here.”

  He motioned to one of the two wood-and-leather chairs in front of his desk and waited until she was seated before he lowered himself again into his seat. “Yes, I am.”

  Even with the massive desk between them, Eve could feel the visceral pull toward Hunter. It had been there from the moment she’d met him. Logic had told her the years would have made a difference. They were different people now and they’d both changed. Yet the only change in Hunter seemed to be the faint lines around his eyes, those creasing his forehead. When he’d stood, she’d seen that he was as sleek and muscled as ever, maybe more so. At thirty-two now, he was in his prime, and it showed.

  Renewing her resolve, holding on to her courage, she asked, “Will you marry me?”

  Silver sparked in Hunter’s blue eyes, but only for a moment. “I think you’d better explain.” His low, calm voice rattled her completely.

  She rushed into an explanation. “My father died three months ago.” Her voice caught, but she pushed on. “He put a stipulation in his will that if I don’t marry within a year, everything in his estate will be donated to charity.”

  The silence was palpable until Hunter asked, “And why did you choose me?”

  Was that interest in his eyes? Did they have a chance to recapture what they’d once had? Had he never married for a reason? The same reason she’d never looked at another man? “The truth is, Hunter, there aren’t any men I…know well enough to ask.”

  At that, his brows arched. “What about that land developer, Jerry Livingston?”

  “Jerry and I weren’t suited for each other. I convinced Father of that long before he died.” Actually it had been her lack of zeal in anything but her studies in art history, earning her degree, and then her position at the art museum in Savannah that had convinced her father she would probably never marry.

  Hunter leaned forward and propped one arm on his desk. “What makes you think I’d consider your proposal?”

  She could feel the heat in her cheeks, but she kept her chin up. If any remnant of what he’d once felt for her remained, he was hiding it well.

  Before she’d purchased her ticket to Denver, she’d realized she’d have to give Hunter a tangible reason to entertain the idea of marriage. “This can be a business arrangement. If you marry me, the art collection that you admired and my father treasured will be yours.”

  Deep down she was hoping that if Hunter agreed to this, as they talked and consulted about the estate, maybe they could establish a connection again, maybe she could tell him about the miscarriage, maybe she could tell him she’d made a mistake so many years ago.

  But his deep voice gave nothing away as he responded, “I see.”

  She held her breath and waited.

  “Give me twenty-four hours.” He took a card from the wood-and-brass holder on his desk. Standing, he held it out to her. “Come to my penthouse tomorrow evening, and I’ll give you my decision.”

  As she stood and reached for his card, her fingertips brushed his and an almost electric charge ran through her. Gazing up at his face, she tried to see if he’d been affected, too, but she couldn’t tell. Maybe he held no memories of their interlude five years ago. Maybe he had only regrets.

  She tucked the card into her purse. “Is seven o’clock all right?”

  “Make it eight. Sometimes I get tied up here. I’ll call you if I hit a snag. Where are you staying?”

  “The Mountain Inn.”

  He nodded, and she knew that the nod was a dismissal.

  Turning, she walked to the door and then stopped. “It’s good to see you again, Hunter.”

  When he didn’t respond, she opened the door and stepped out into the hall. She made it to the lobby, then she sank down onto one of the wrought-iron benches and realized she was shaking all over. Emotions she’d tamped down for years overwhelmed her. She obviously still felt a great deal for Hunter Coleburn, but it was a mystery as to what he felt for her.

  Shell-shocked, Hunter watched his office door close. Memories from five long years ago broke through the dam he’d constructed and flooded his mind as he sank heavily into his desk chair. He swore, then went over his conversation with Eve again in his head, hearing her soft Southern accent, still inhaling the gardenia scent of her perfume….

  For a moment when she’d entered his office, the years had slipped away. Then he’d recalled her refusal to marry him and the pain of leaving her. No sooner had he laid eyes on her again than his body had remembered as well as his mind. She aroused him as no other woman ever had. Today he’d resented that fire-in-his-blood feeling. He had to admit she was more sophisticated and confident now than she’d been five years ago. It had taken a lot of guts for her to come here and propose to him.

  Then again, maybe not. If this was merely a business arrangement she was proposing…

  Glad for the distraction when his phone rang, Hunter snatched it up. Eve’s appearance in his office had unsettled him more than he wanted to admit, and he had to consider very carefully everything she’d said. Yet when his receptionist told him his sister, Jolene Morgan, was on the line, he realized the day held more than one surprise.

  Hunter’s relationship with his adoptive family was complicated. He’d always felt like an outsider, as if blood was thi
cker than a decree that had made him John and Martha Morgan’s son.

  “Hunter, do you have a few minutes?” Jolene asked. Unlike their brother Larry, she was always friendly.

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “It’s Dad.”

  To further complicate his relationship with his family, this past Christmas Hunter had learned he’d been separated from his twin brother, Slade. They’d reunited a few months ago after Slade’s search had led him to Hunter. In the process, as the whole story unfolded, Hunter had learned that Martha and John Morgan had taken him from the orphanage but had left Slade behind. He couldn’t seem to shake the anger that had accompanied that revelation.

  Still, he cared about his adoptive parents deeply. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not sure, but Mom says he’s not sleeping at night and he’s having indigestion all the time. I think it has to do with Larry taking over the business when Dad retires next year.”

  Ever since they were kids, Larry had done everything he could to ingratiate himself with their parents. Hunter had realized early on that Larry was the golden one, the “real” son. John Morgan’s pride in Larry’s accomplishments seemed greater. He’d always taken a more hands-off approach with Hunter, so Hunter had decided to set his own course. That’s why he’d gone into law instead of assuming a position at Morgan’s Office Products.

  “Have you talked to Larry about this?” Hunter asked.

  “He says I should stop worrying so much, that nothing’s wrong with Dad that retirement won’t fix. But I’m not so sure. Will you talk to Dad?”

  “Jolene…”

  “I know things have been strained between you for the past few months, but I think he’ll tell you what’s really going on.”