Beauty and the Big Bad Wolf Read online

  “I’m sorry I bothered you.

  “I’m even sorrier that it’s getting dark and I have no idea how to get to my grandmother’s house.”

  “You’re only a hundred yards from her cottage. Turn right at the next road, and you can’t miss it. Or maybe you can,” Brian added under his breath.

  “After all this time, you could’ve helped me, but you didn’t say anything?” Amelia demanded. “I could’ve been out of here minutes ago.”

  “But then we wouldn’t have had this interesting conversation,” he said.

  She should have thanked him or at least said goodbye, but her throat was dry and she was anxious to leave without any further incident. As she walked away, she didn’t turn around to see if he was still standing there, still staring at her in that unsettling way he had. She didn’t have to. She could feel his gaze on her as she retreated from his porch.

  Dear Reader,

  May has to be one of the most beautiful months of the year. Having been trapped indoors for the cold, dark winter, I love taking long walks and discovering new shops and restaurants that have opened in New York. And everywhere I turn, multicolored flowers line street medians; the sidewalks are flooded with baby carriages and the bridal salons lining Madison Avenue feature gowns that would make any woman feel like a princess.

  As our special tribute to May, we’ve gathered romances from some of your favorite writers and from some pretty stellar new voices. Raye Morgan’s BOARDROOM BRIDES continues with The Boss’s Special Delivery (SR #1766). In this classic romance, a pregnant heroine finds love with her sworn enemy. Part of the FAIRYTALE BRIDES continuity, Beauty and the Big Bad Wolf (SR #1767) by Carol Grace shows how an ambitious career woman falls for a handsome recluse. The next installment in Holly Jacobs’s PERRY SQUARE miniseries, Once Upon a Princess (SR #1768), features a private investigator who’s decided it’s time a runaway princess came home…to him! Finally, two single parents get a second chance at love, in Lissa Manley’s endearing romance In a Cowboy’s Arms (SR #1769).

  And be sure to come back next month when Patricia Thayer and Lilian Darcy return to the line.

  Ann Leslie Tuttle

  Associate Senior Editor

  Beauty and the Big Bad Wolf

  CAROL GRACE

  Books by Carol Grace

  Silhouette Desire

  Make Room for Nanny #690

  A Taste of Heaven #751

  Home Is Where the Heart Is #882

  Mail-Order Male #955

  The Lady Wore Spurs #1010

  *Lonely Millionaire #1057

  *Almost a Husband #1105

  *Almost Married #1142

  The Rancher and the Lost Bride #1153

  †Granted: Big Sky Groom #1277

  †Granted: Wild West Bride #1303

  †Granted: A Family for Baby #1345

  Married to the Sheik #1391

  The Librarian's Secret Wish #1473

  Fit for a Sheik #1500

  Taming the Sheik #1554

  A Princess in Waiting #1588

  **Falling for the Sheik #1607

  **Pregnant by the Boss! #1666

  **Beauty and the Big Bad Wolf #1767

  Silhouette Desire

  Wife for a Night #1118

  The Heiress Inherits a Cowboy #1145

  Expecting… #1205

  The Magnificent M.D. #1284

  CAROL GRACE

  has always been interested in travel and living abroad. She spent her junior year of college in France and toured the world working on the hospital ship HOPE. She and her husband spent the first year and a half of their marriage in Iran, where they both taught English. She has studied Arabic and Persian languages. Then, with their toddler daughter, they lived in Algeria for two years.

  Carol says that writing is another way of making her life exciting. Her office is her mountaintop home, which overlooks the Pacific Ocean and which she shares with her inventor husband, their daughter, who just graduated from college, and their teenage son.

  For my wonderful, smart nephew David Warme, whose inventive mind will lead to great things! This book is for you, with love from Aunt Carol.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter One

  Amelia Tucker drove as fast as she dared up and down the mountain roads that led to her grandmother’s house in the woods. She was late. She was worried. Worried about Granny’s health, worried about her job and worried about what she’d say to the man who’d just proposed to her when she’d left San Francisco that morning.

  She was annoyed when her cell-phone battery conked out in the middle of an important call, but that was no excuse for missing the turn and ending up in the driveway of a huge glass-and-redwood house with Do Not Disturb and Beware of Dog signs on the fence.

  Now she was not only late and worried, she was lost, too. It was dusk, and the trees were casting shadows across roads that all looked alike. She got out of her car and paused long enough to inhale the pungent scent of pine and fir trees. Very gingerly, she approached the fence, expecting a ferocious dog to come leaping over it and tear her to shreds at any minute. She knocked on the gate, but nothing happened. No barking, no snarling, no growling. No dog.

  Feeling bold and reassured, she opened the gate and stepped onto a flagstone walkway.

  “Hello,” she called into the silence. “Anybody home?” If only she could borrow the phone to call Granny or get directions. She couldn’t be far, and everybody knew everybody in these mountain communities.

  Hearing no answer, Amelia walked up to the redwood deck and peered into a huge window. Staring back at from the other side of the window was a tall, good-looking man. Startled, she froze and stared back. His dark eyes held her gaze for a long moment. She tried to look away, but couldn’t. What was it about him that made chills go up her spine? Sure, he was handsome in a rugged kind of way, or at least he would be without that angry frown on his face. She teetered back on her heels for a moment, uncertain how to proceed.

  Then she waved her hand and smiled. She hadn’t risen to executive status in an up-and-coming software company by letting handsome, angry men intimidate her.

  “Didn’t you see the sign?” he said gruffly.

  “Yes, but—”

  “Then go away.”

  Had she heard that right? Had the man really told her to go away? “Wait, I’m not selling anything or trying to convert you. I just want to ask you something.”

  Suddenly, the front door flew open and the man stalked out on the deck, followed by a huge yellow Labrador happily wagging its tail. The contrast between the two, the friendly dog and the decidedly unfriendly man, was startling. The guy was bigger than she’d thought, looming over her five feet nine inches, making her feel small and insignificant for the first time in…well, forever. She, who had everything in her life under control, who was on a mission of mercy, was being intimidated by some guy with broad shoulders, a craggy face and an imposing, lord-of-the-manor attitude. Of all the cabins and summer cottages in these woods, why, oh why, had she stopped here?

  “Didn’t you see the sign?” he repeated, as if she were mentally deficient or illiterate, or both.

  “The one that said Beware of Dog?”

  “The one that said Do Not Disturb.”

  “Yes, but I have a question,” she said with what she hoped was a disarming smile. What was it Granny always said about catching more flies with honey? Good grief, what she had to do to get a little information out of hi
m!

  He didn’t return her smile. His mouth was set in a hard line. She had the feeling he didn’t smile very often, if ever. Maybe that was even a hint of sadness lurking in the depths of his dark blue eyes. If it was, it was no excuse for being rude and had nothing to do with her. She probably ought to take the hint and get out of here right now. But not until she found out how to get to Granny’s.

  She knew she should get right to the point and leave the premises, but for some reason, she continued to engage in the ridiculous conversation. There was something about the man that bothered and intrigued her. Why was he holed up here, behind a tall fence with a bunch of warning signs on it?

  “If you really don’t want to be disturbed, maybe you should get a bigger sign or a scarier dog.” She thought about petting the dog just to show she was a nice, friendly person, but for all she knew, he would command it to attack her and chase her from the place. She’d never had a dog or a pet of any kind and knew nothing about them. The dog, perhaps sensing her innocence, licked her hand and wagged its tail even more happily.

  “Most people respect my privacy,” he said, giving her a long, slow look, from her up-to-the-minute hairstyle to the tips of her Italian leather shoes. What was that glance about? Surely not appreciation for her carefully assembled ensemble, was it?

  His gaze warmed for a moment and made her break out in goose bumps. Another first. It must be the altitude, or the early evening breeze that blew through the pine trees. She could deal with anything the most flirtatious men came up with, both in and out of her office, but this man was not flirting. He was just looking, practically glaring, and taking his time about it. Sure, she was a stranger, and he didn’t want strangers around, but what was his damage? “I’m sorry, but I didn’t think you’d mind,” she said.

  “Obviously. If this keeps up, I’ll have to install an electronic fence to zap intruders.” He couldn’t be serious, could he? He sounded serious. And he certainly looked serious.

  “That sounds a little extreme,” she said with a little shiver as she felt an imaginary zing course through her body. “Look, Mr.…whoever you are—”

  “No, you look, Ms. whoever you are,” he said, his jaw tight and his eyes clear and cool. “I don’t want to buy anything or give any interviews. So take your questions and go peddle your products elsewhere and leave the premises.”

  “Or you’ll do what—sic your ferocious dog on me?”

  He glanced down at the dog, who appeared to be following their conversation by turning his head from side to side. “Some watchdog,” he muttered. “Some days, you don’t earn your keep.”

  Surely a man with a friendly dog wouldn’t take drastic measures to make her leave, such as tossing her over the fence, but it was time to try the direct approach. “If it’s not too much trouble,” she said sweetly, “I just need a little help, and I only have one question—where am I?”

  “You’re in Pine Mountain, California, five miles off Highway 80. Next time, I suggest you install a GPS in your car. Now will you please leave?”

  “Yes… No! I’m trying to find my grandmother’s house.”

  His eyes narrowed as he looked her over again this time, his gaze lingering much longer than necessary on the lines of her fitted black business suit, sending a shaft of sensual awareness through her body. What was wrong with her? What was wrong with him? She might look out of place here in the country, but she certainly looked harmless, and she’d made it clear she was lost and only needed directions.

  “Grandmother’s house,” he repeated, jerking his gaze away at last. This time, the corner of his mouth lifted just a fraction. “Who are you, Little Red Riding Hood?”

  “If you’re referring to my hair,” Amelia began, trying to think of a retort. She usually had one ready, having been teased about her red hair more times than she cared to remember. But for the life of her, she couldn’t think of anything suitable to say at that moment. She blamed it on the short but stressful day at the office followed by the long drive here. But it wasn’t only that. It was him. Him and the way he looked at her, hot then cold. Nervously, she ran her hand through her hair.

  Her head was spinning. It would be dark soon and Granny would be getting worried about her. The guy was standing there, staring at her, waiting for her to finish her sentence, which she wasn’t going to do. Why should she? What did it matter what she said, or didn’t say? Someday, someone would put him in his place, but it wasn’t going to be her, and it wasn’t going to be today.

  He had problems—like paranoia and hostility—but she didn’t want to hear about them or deal with them. They had nothing to do with her. She was out of here. Now. Forget using his phone. Forget getting anything useful out of him. Forget wondering why he was hiding away from the world on this beautiful piece of property, in this stunning, custom-built house.

  He was casually dressed in khakis and a polo shirt. Leisure wear or work clothes? Home office? Vacation house? Illegal crop growing?

  She told herself it was none of her business. Yes, he appeared to have money and good looks, but how he had succeeded in business with his bad attitude was a mystery—and a mystery it would stay. All she wanted was to be on her way. She had Granny to take care of and work to do. She needed to get out now, before she gave in to her abundant natural curiosity and tried to find out what made him tick.

  “Never mind,” she said, finding her voice and her determination at last. “I’ll find Granny’s house on my own.” She turned on her heel and spun around, but when she tried to walk away, she couldn’t. Her heel was caught in a crack between the redwood boards of the deck.

  “Damn,” she said under her breath.

  He sighed loudly, as if he were at the end of his rope. “I’ll get it,” he said, bending down to grab the heel of the shoe. Before she could step out of her shoe, he got down on his knees and put one hand around her ankle. Shocked by the warmth of his strong grip, she sucked in a sharp breath. He yanked, and the heel separated from her shoe. She put her hand out and grabbed his shoulder to keep from stumbling. He looked up at her, and their eyes met and held for a long moment. There was hostility in his gaze, but there was something else in that guarded look, something that made her pulse speed up.

  Strangely shaken, she dragged her gaze away and looked at her shoe. “Oh, no. Do you know how much these shoes cost?”

  He straightened, holding the heel in his hand. “I can guess,” he said.

  “Look,” she said, standing awkwardly in one shoe and one stockinged foot. “I’m sorry I bothered you. I’m sorry I interrupted your life. I’m even sorrier that it’s getting dark and I have no idea how to get to my grandmother’s house.”

  “Is your grandmother Helen Wickett?” he asked. “If she is, you’re only one hundred yards from her cottage. Turn right at the next road, and you can’t miss it. Or maybe you can,” he added under his breath.

  “After all this time, you guessed who she was, and you didn’t say anything?” she demanded. “I could have been out of here minutes ago.”

  “But then we wouldn’t have had this interesting conversation,” he said.

  “I’m no stranger to sarcasm,” she replied. She still didn’t understand why he couldn’t have told her where she was ten minutes ago. She only knew she hoped she’d never see him again. He was a combination of unusual traits, all of which she found disturbing and off-putting. This was not a good time in her life for her to be disturbed by a strange man.

  When he handed her the detached heel, his hand brushed hers, and she felt the kind of zing she expected from an electric fence. Amelia saw something flicker in his gaze, which made her think he’d felt it, too. But that wasn’t possible. Not him. Not here. Not her.

  She should have thanked him, or at least said goodbye, but her throat was dry and she was anxious to leave without any further incident. So she turned and walked back out the gate to her car, shoulders back, head held high, both shoes in hand as the rough flagstones tore holes in the soles of her shee
r stockings. But she didn’t turn around to see if he was still standing there, still staring at her in that unsettling way he had. She didn’t have to. She could feel his gaze on her as she retreated from his porch.

  A few minutes later, Amelia was at the door of the small, charming cottage in the midst of a pine grove, her computer in one hand, her small suitcase in the other. Once she was inside the snug living room, surrounded by familiar, old-fashioned furniture and the warmth of a wood-burning stove, she hugged her grandmother, who was stretched on a long, slipcovered couch and wearing a pink chenille bathrobe.

  “I was worried about you,” Helen said, kissing Amelia on the cheek.

  “I got a late start, and then I took a wrong turn. And when I tried to call you, my phone went dead. But here I am. How are you feeling?”

  “Not bad for an old lady with one titanium hip,” she said cheerfully, patting her hip that was covered with a cast. “I feel helpless for the first time in my life, and I just hate having to ask you to help out this way, but my sister Vivian was busy and Marge came down with the flu. I didn’t know who else to ask.”

  “You should have asked me first. Of course, I’m sorry about your hip, but I love having an excuse to spend some time here. It’s so peaceful and quiet.” Maybe just a little too quiet for a city girl who lived, worked and breathed her job. Amelia was used to the noise and activity and excitement of the urban scene. But she’d only be here for a week—two weeks at most. “It will be like a vacation,” she added. A vacation she couldn’t afford to take right now, with everything that was going on at the office. But Granny’s health had to come first.

  “I hope so. I don’t want to be a burden. Of course, I have the home-help workers, but they only come three times a week.”

  “And they’re not family. You can’t tell them what to do, the way you can me,” she said with a smile.

  “Now, Amelia, I may have told you what to do when you were a child, but you always did it your own way.” Her granny’s eyes twinkled, but Amelia knew she meant what she’d said. Amelia’d heard she had a stubborn streak more than once over the years.