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Authors: Rhonda Nelson

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BOOK: The Perfect Proposal
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Completely puzzled, Mitch climbed into the
cart and aimed in the direction Les had instructed. An odd sense of
foreboding twisted in his gut.

Annie settled into the cart’s passenger seat
and waited until they were out of Les’s earshot before she spoke.
“Does any of this seem strange to you?”


Definitely,” Mitch
said.

He drove past the other cottages, then under
a canopy of trees. The tunnel of foliage heralded fall’s coming in
a dazzling display of yellows, browns, burnt orange and reds. It
was quite beautiful and, had Annie been in a mood to fully
appreciate it, she would have been humbled by such a sight. While
still touched her, she didn’t have the presence of mind to truly
enjoy it. She was too worried about what lay at the end of this
drive. Something told her Rose Cottage was much more than a small
guest house.

She swallowed a delighted “oh” as the little
house came into view. The white frame cottage was a charmer, with a
steep-pitched roof and green shutters. Ivy grew as a ground cover
and wound its way up the rock chimney. A curved stone path led to a
small front porch and a white picket fence surrounded the yard. An
arbor, covered with late-blooming pink roses, provided entrance
into the picture-perfect scene.

Mitch parked the cart. After a moment when he
failed to comment, Annie stole a glance at him. His handsome face
was set in a scowl. His firm but full lips were drawn into a
disapproving line. The drive over had ruffled his raven hair and a
leaf had fallen to rest on his shoulder. Without thinking, Annie
reached out and brushed it off. Mitch turned and his questioning
gaze caught hers. For a moment, she couldn’t speak, held silent by
that potent stare.


Y-you had a leaf on your
shoulder,” she explained, feeling stupid.

Mitch smiled. “Thanks.” He blew out a
resigned breath. “Well, we should get settled in.” With that
comment, he swung out of the cart and made for the door. At the
porch, he stopped to wait for Annie.


It’s nice,” Annie said,
uncomfortable with the silence.


Yeah, if you were on a
honeymoon,” Mitch replied dryly.

Annie didn’t know what to
say to that, so she kept her mouth shut. She felt a blush stain her
cheeks.
Mitch
and
honeymoon
were not words she should be thinking about in conjunction.
Just the thought made her heart pound. Mitch slipped the key in the
lock, then opened the door for Annie.

The cozy little cottage was chock-full of
antiques and lace. Tea roses patterned the wallpaper, thus giving
the home its name. Varying shades of pink, red and cream created
the ambiance of an old bed and breakfast, but a modern
entertainment center and television were tucked into an old
chifferobe. The kitchen table, visible from the living room, held a
bottle of chilled champagne and a fruit basket.

Annie let out a deep breath. “Well,” she
murmured, for lack of anything articulate to say.


Well,” he echoed
grimly.

Needing a moment alone, Annie walked past
Mitch to survey the rest of the house. The first door on the right
led to a spacious bath. Painted a soft yellow, the room boasted a
double marble vanity, glassed-in shower, and a huge antique
claw-toothed tub, Annie imagined herself neck deep in fragrant
bubbles and let out a soft sigh.

She ducked out, promising herself an
indulgent bath that night before dinner with the Peters. Right now,
she needed to make certain that her things had been delivered as
Les promised. Vaguely she noted there were only two other doors and
assumed that both of them led to bedrooms, one of which probably
had a private bath.

A glance into one of the rooms disproved her
theory. A vein of panic worked its way through her. One of the
rooms was an office. A huge oak desk took up most of the space.
Among the things on top were a computer, a laptop, phone and fax.
On the opposite wall sat a small table and chairs, and a filing
cabinet.

A sense of dread curdled her empty stomach.
Surely Les wouldn’t have assigned them a guest house with only one
bedroom? Annie forced one foot in front of the other and said a
silent prayer to the Almighty as she made her way to the one
remaining room. She simply couldn’t believe this.

When she reached the last door, she closed
her eyes tight, then reopened them and glanced inside to see a room
from heaven in this hell. A kind-sized mahogany bed draped with
yards and yards of pink mosquito netting graced the far wall. A
crocheted coverlet atop the bed was set off by a variety of big
fluffy pillows, piled high. Fresh-cut flowers blossomed from vases
placed strategically around the room on various other delicate
antiques. It was whimsical, romantic…and unique.


Er, Annie,” Mitch announced
from the doorway. “We’ve got a problem. There’s only one
bedroom.”

Annie bit back the biting remark that sprang
to mind. Right now, Mitch’s ability to understate the obvious was
the least of her problems. At the moment, figuring out sleeping
arrangements—or, better yet, getting out of this whole ridiculous
situation—required her immediate attention.


This isn’t going to work,”
she muttered aloud, her gaze riveted to the bed. Her luggage and
Mitch’s sat cozily at its foot. Seeing her own bags abated one
irrational fear, but seeing his sent a bolt of panic through her.
“I’m going to buzz the house right away and request a different
cottage.” Annie pivoted determinedly and start for the
door.

Mitch snagged her arm. “Wait, Annie. Let’s
think this through first.”


There’s nothing to think
about,” Annie said, panic making her voice shrill. “There’s one bed
and two of us. H-how are we supposed to stay here for the next
fourteen days?” Again, she tried to brush her way past
him.

Mitch sighed impatiently. “Annie, Les said
we’d have to stay in the guest cottage due to limited space. Do you
honestly think he would put us in this house if he had any other
place we could stay? Do you want to insult him?”

Annie bit her lip and considered the logical
points Mitch had just brought up. “No,” she admitted. “I suppose
not.” She brightened hopefully. “What about a hotel?”

Mitch winced and shot her a sympathetic look.
“Again, he still might be insulted if we thumb our nose at his
hospitality. Besides, we’re thirty miles from the nearest town.
It’s not feasible. And we’re not in a position to upset him.”

Defeated, Annie plopped into a chair and
exhaled with a whoosh. “You’re right,” she admitted. “We’ll just
have to think of something.”


I already have.”

Hopeful, Annie looked up. “What?”

He smiled reassuringly and, for whatever
reason, Annie found that grin utterly endearing.


It’s simple,” he told her.
“I’ll take the couch.”

Chapter Five

Dinner with the Peters—particularly Price and Joy,
Mitch thought as another dinner roll whizzed past his head—was an
ordeal he didn’t wish to repeat. Watching the twins in action made
him totally rethink his recent longing for parenthood. What Mitch
found so amazing was Les and Cora seemed completely oblivious to
the flying food.

With a shake of his head, Mitch averted his
gaze from the devious duo and tuned more fully into the
conversation.


So, Annie,” Les was saying.
“Tell me about yourself. I don’t feel like I know the real
you.”

Annie took a sip of her iced tea and smiled
at Les. “Well, I signed on with Hightower a little over five years
ago. I —”


Naw, naw,” the little
cowboy interrupted from the head of the unbelievably long table.
“Work’s not what I’m talking about. What do you do for
fun?”

Annie looked startled. “Fun?”

Les laughed, sending his protruding belly
into a jiggly dance. “Mercy,” he bellowed. “If you don’t even know
what the word means, then you must not be havin’ any!”


Les,” Cora admonished from
her end of the massive table.


Don’t worry, Annie girl,
ol’ Les’ll make sure you know the definition of the word fun before
you leave here,” he promised, still chuckling. “The Triple P is
just loaded with fun things to do.”

Mitch’s lips quirked. Annie didn’t look as if
she were looking forward to anything the eccentric Les deemed fun.
She’d blushed a pretty rose, giving her a cherubic quality.
Seemingly sensing his thoughts, Annie looked up and her gaze meshed
with his. Mitch felt a definite jolt of awareness until she stabbed
a new potato with her fork and shot him a death-ray glare. He
wondered briefly if she were that fiery in bed, then promptly
closed the door on that line of thinking. Whether Ms. Witherspoon
was or wasn’t pure temptation didn’t concern him. Undoubtedly she’d
have a sexual harassment suit filed on him faster than he could say
orgasm.

Still, her contrasting personality traits
intrigued him. For instance, how could a woman appear so strong,
and yet at other times, so vulnerable? Almost lost, for a lack of
better description. Vulnerable was undoubtedly a description the
lovely Annie would hate. The thought made Mitch smile.


Mr. Peters, I appreciate
your hospitality and willingness to show me a good time,” Annie
said hesitantly. “However, Mitch and I are here on business.” She
gave an uncomfortable little laugh. “I doubt William would
appreciate it if we took a mini-vacation on his time.”

Mitch breathed a sigh of relief, thankful
that Annie had broached the subject of business first. He had begun
to wonder if they’d ever get a chance to discuss his and Annie’s
reasons for being at the Triple P. The sooner they wrapped this up,
the better.

Les’s pudgy cheeks dimpled as he smiled
mysteriously. “First,” he told her, “no more of this Mr. Peters
crap. You’re a guest in my home. Land sakes, call me Les! Second,
Cora and I made it a rule never to discuss business at the dinner
table. And, third, William told me to make sure the two of you did
indeed have a little vacation on this trip.”


H-he did?” Annie
asked.


Yes, ma’am.” Les smiled
broadly and his twinkling gaze cut to Mitch. “In fact, accordin’ to
his uncle, Mitch here is supposed to be all kinds of fun. Why, he
should be able to show you a good time. Is it true that you went
down to the Florida Keys and swam with the sharks?”

Now it was Mitch’s turn to blush. His uncle
had obviously hyped him up as some sort of fun-seeking loafer.
While it was true Mitch enjoyed having a good time, he’d never been
one to shrug off responsibility. While designing computer software,
Mitch had enjoyed the privilege of working wherever he chose. He
could work from Colorado Springs as effectively as he could at the
offices of Micronet.

He shifted uncomfortably and darted a quick
look at Annie. Her smug smile seemed to say, “It figures.”


Yes,” he admitted at
last.


How exciting!” Cora
exclaimed. “A man who isn’t afraid to swim with sharks has got to
be an entertaining companion. I’m sure y’all are gonna have a
wonderful time.”


I’m sure we will,” Annie
concurred weakly.

Mitch could tell the last thing Annie was
interested in was having a good time—particularly with him. For
whatever reason, that uncharitable revelation bugged Mitch far more
than it should have.

Shrugging off that thought, Mitch redirected
his thoughts to a more productive line of thinking and listened as
Les continued to regale them with stories starring himself as the
dashing hero. Mitch smiled and complimented Les at all the
appropriate places. After all, no matter what Les thought, this was
business. If he intended to win—and Mitch did—then schmoozing was
in order.

Annie huddled into her down-filled coat as
Mitch navigated the little golf cart through the lighted
grounds.


Cold?” he asked, cutting a
glance in her direction.


Mmm-hmm.” The heat Annie
had silently cursed upon arriving in Petersville had left with the
setting sun. The temperature had dropped at least twenty degrees
since they’d left the cottage some three hours ago. The time was
now past ten o’clock and, aside from being bone-tired and
depressed, Annie was more than ready to see the end of this
day.

When Les had insisted upon dinner, Annie had
foolishly assumed it was because the little Texan intended to talk
business, possibly set up some sort of schedule for her and Mitch
to give presentations for the Winning Wiener campaign. Those hopes
had been completely dashed over dinner.

All Les wanted to talk about—besides
himself—was how much fun he intended for she and Mitch to have.

Annie rolled her eyes, then
covertly looked at the man beside her. Her lips curled. He
would
be the type to swim
with sharks. Since Annie had decided not to like him, it was with
supreme annoyance that she noted the simultaneous tingle of
awareness and respect upon hearing that adventure. Annie envied him
his recklessness.

Though she wouldn’t call herself a coward,
Annie had never been the bold type. She’s always kept her sights on
one goal at a time. Had she missed anything? Annie wondered now.
Had she truly become so single-minded that the possibility of fun
could no longer tempt her?


What did you think of
dinner?” Mitch asked, tearing Annie from her gloomy thoughts. He
pulled up in front of their cottage and killed the
motor.


You mean dodging it or
eating it?” she asked wryly.

BOOK: The Perfect Proposal
6.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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