silky tone. She glanced down at her hands fisted in her lap.
Francesca nodded. “Harmony has some lovely young ladies. I suggest you get out there and meet them.”
“What if I’ve already found one?” Keith’s thigh brushed against Bertie’s.
Francesca looked at both of them, lifting a skeptical brow. “Really?”
Keith’s hard thigh deliberately pressed into hers as he leaned closer. “Yeah, she’s talented…on many levels. I don’t know about her mothering skills, but I’d bet she’d catch on real quick.”
Bertie sat rigid on the settee. Heat flushed her face, and her heart slowed to a low thud. Keith’s voice had become silkier, and the idea of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars was the only thing that kept her from jumping up and running from the room.
Francesca’s lips thinned into a tight line. “If she’s from Harmony, I have no doubt she’s a nice young lady.”
Bertie sneaked a sideways glance at Keith. His dark eyes burned with fury, and anger lines bracketed his firm lips.
“I wouldn’t know about nice, but she’s pretty hot.” His gaze locked with hers.
Bertie jumped up as if she’d been poked with a cattle prod. “Aunt Franny, I’ll have an answer for you tomorrow. I’m…um…going to go now. The food’s in the kit—”
“I don’t approve of you fooling around and breaking her heart simply to make a point with me.”
Francesca and Keith both rose from their seats, boxing Bertie in between them. Francesca had interrupted Bertie as if she hadn’t been speaking, never breaking eye contact with Keith, who stood too close to her back. Proprietarily close. Like boyfriend/girlfriend close.
“Are you saying she’s off-limits or just fooling around is off-limits?” Keith’s sexy voice rumbled above her head. Afraid to move, Bertie kept her eyes trained on the lustrous sheen of Francesca’s gray pearl necklace.
“I’m saying, tread carefully. I will not have the people I know and love hurt because you’re angry and want to get back at me.” Francesca’s voice crackled with anger.
“If I agree to your form of blackmail, then anyone is fair game. You’re not exactly giving me tons of time for this miraculous courtship.”
Francesca gave a regal toss of her head. “Oh, I don’t know. You always seem to do your best work under pressure. I recall you being the prince of tiebreakers and winning tennis matches under pressure. Three months is more than enough time.”
“Especially if she’s right under my nose.”
Oh my mama pajama. Bertie suspected a diabolical grin crossed Keith’s face, like a pirate forcing his victim to walk the plank.
She pushed back with her elbow into Keith Morgan’s rock-hard abs and sidestepped away from the dueling blackmailers. “Okay, here’s the thing…I’m not really sure what or who you’re talking about and”—she held her hand up like a stop sign—“I don’t want to know. But I’m also not a fuzzy yellow tennis ball to be volleyed back and forth.”
Bertie bent down for her handbag she’d dropped on the carpet. “Aunt Franny, I need some time to think. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She turned to bolt from the room when Keith snagged her elbow, pulling her to a halt.
“Hold up. I’m coming with you.” He pierced Francesca with a harsh stare. “What do you want, boss…daily or weekly reports?”
“I forbid you to date her,” Francesca commanded loud and clear.
“I can’t make that promise,” Keith said, shaking his head. He hustled Bertie from the room, and neither one looked back to see the faint smile curling Francesca’s lips.
Chapter 4
Keith pulled Bertie toward his black Porsche Cayenne. She tried stopping him, but the wedge shoes she wore didn’t give good traction.
“We need to talk,” he growled as he yanked open the passenger door and tried shoving her inside.
“Hold on a minute. Where do you think you’re taking me? I haven’t agreed to work for you. I’m not about to get in your
Francesca nodded. “Harmony has some lovely young ladies. I suggest you get out there and meet them.”
“What if I’ve already found one?” Keith’s thigh brushed against Bertie’s.
Francesca looked at both of them, lifting a skeptical brow. “Really?”
Keith’s hard thigh deliberately pressed into hers as he leaned closer. “Yeah, she’s talented…on many levels. I don’t know about her mothering skills, but I’d bet she’d catch on real quick.”
Bertie sat rigid on the settee. Heat flushed her face, and her heart slowed to a low thud. Keith’s voice had become silkier, and the idea of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars was the only thing that kept her from jumping up and running from the room.
Francesca’s lips thinned into a tight line. “If she’s from Harmony, I have no doubt she’s a nice young lady.”
Bertie sneaked a sideways glance at Keith. His dark eyes burned with fury, and anger lines bracketed his firm lips.
“I wouldn’t know about nice, but she’s pretty hot.” His gaze locked with hers.
Bertie jumped up as if she’d been poked with a cattle prod. “Aunt Franny, I’ll have an answer for you tomorrow. I’m…um…going to go now. The food’s in the kit—”
“I don’t approve of you fooling around and breaking her heart simply to make a point with me.”
Francesca and Keith both rose from their seats, boxing Bertie in between them. Francesca had interrupted Bertie as if she hadn’t been speaking, never breaking eye contact with Keith, who stood too close to her back. Proprietarily close. Like boyfriend/girlfriend close.
“Are you saying she’s off-limits or just fooling around is off-limits?” Keith’s sexy voice rumbled above her head. Afraid to move, Bertie kept her eyes trained on the lustrous sheen of Francesca’s gray pearl necklace.
“I’m saying, tread carefully. I will not have the people I know and love hurt because you’re angry and want to get back at me.” Francesca’s voice crackled with anger.
“If I agree to your form of blackmail, then anyone is fair game. You’re not exactly giving me tons of time for this miraculous courtship.”
Francesca gave a regal toss of her head. “Oh, I don’t know. You always seem to do your best work under pressure. I recall you being the prince of tiebreakers and winning tennis matches under pressure. Three months is more than enough time.”
“Especially if she’s right under my nose.”
Oh my mama pajama. Bertie suspected a diabolical grin crossed Keith’s face, like a pirate forcing his victim to walk the plank.
She pushed back with her elbow into Keith Morgan’s rock-hard abs and sidestepped away from the dueling blackmailers. “Okay, here’s the thing…I’m not really sure what or who you’re talking about and”—she held her hand up like a stop sign—“I don’t want to know. But I’m also not a fuzzy yellow tennis ball to be volleyed back and forth.”
Bertie bent down for her handbag she’d dropped on the carpet. “Aunt Franny, I need some time to think. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She turned to bolt from the room when Keith snagged her elbow, pulling her to a halt.
“Hold up. I’m coming with you.” He pierced Francesca with a harsh stare. “What do you want, boss…daily or weekly reports?”
“I forbid you to date her,” Francesca commanded loud and clear.
“I can’t make that promise,” Keith said, shaking his head. He hustled Bertie from the room, and neither one looked back to see the faint smile curling Francesca’s lips.
Chapter 4
Keith pulled Bertie toward his black Porsche Cayenne. She tried stopping him, but the wedge shoes she wore didn’t give good traction.
“We need to talk,” he growled as he yanked open the passenger door and tried shoving her inside.
“Hold on a minute. Where do you think you’re taking me? I haven’t agreed to work for you. I’m not about to get in your
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