She had to tell him sometime. "Well-"

Suspicion replaced his smile with tightly pressed lips. "What?"

"It's just that I got a call yesterday. From Vasili."

"He called you? You?" His brows lowered as he demanded, "Why?"

"He wanted to know when we're getting married."

He ground his molars hard enough to crack enamel. "He can't come to our wedding. Please tell me you didn't say he could."

"I didn't even know we were getting married. But-" she shrugged meekly. "He said we would, and he sort of invited himself. How could I tell him no?"

"Bluntly. Forcefully. Like this: No."

"But he's always so charming and effusive. We can't hurt his feelings."

Rocky nodded firmly. "Yes, we can."

She winced and delivered the bad news as quickly as possible. "It's too late; I sort of promised to invite him."

Resignation mingled with despair on his face.

Rushing to make him feel better, she asked, "How bad can it be?" She wasn't sure she wanted an answer.

He raised one eyebrow. "Vasili in the same room with Elizabeth and Ben?" His expression grew more bleak. "With my mother? With your mother?"

She swallowed. "What do we do?"

He sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "It'll be okay. We'll be married, and that's all that matters." He gave her a rea.s.suring squeeze, then added a pained afterthought. "But I think we should warn all our guests not to wear jewelry."

Epilogue.

In the gathering dusk, the Westfield grounds were a fairyland of lights and ribbons. Janet couldn't believe their luck in getting to hold the wedding and reception there. It had taken a year to sell the mansion, and in another month Elizabeth would sign the papers and turn it over to a new family. Janet and Rocky's wedding marked the end of an era, Elizabeth claimed, and she wanted to end it in typical Westfield style. The fact that she was a Thatcher now didn't seem to matter.

Janet meant to enjoy every last second of it. At the moment, that meant taking a break from dancing and socializing to steal a kiss in the shadows with her new husband.

Rocky kept one arm around her waist as they sipped their drinks inside the shelter of the gazebo and watched their guests across the lawn. Nearly two hundred people gathered on the patio and the adjoining dance floor-a modest celebration by Westfield standards. She scanned the crowd, looking for her maid of honor.

"Where's Ellie?"

"Inside with Jack, checking on little Ben. For being only a month old, that baby sure knows how to wrap his parents around his tiny fingers."

"I'm just surprised his grandparents and big sister aren't inside the house cooing over him, too."

"I don't know about Ben and Elizabeth, but Libby's busy with her best friend."

They had a clear view of Libby standing beside the cake table. She appeared to be cutting slices and setting them out for guests, but every so often they could see a hand slip below the table as she snuck crumbs to Freddie. The dog s.n.a.t.c.hed them with a quick lick before looking away, as innocent as if he were guarding the cake rather than eating it. In fact, he might be guarding it, whether he meant to or not. Freddie had grown into a striking dog, and the flowers around his neck from his role as their ring bearer didn't do a thing to soften the watchful pose of an adult German shepherd.

Considering the amount of cake left, maybe he was too intimidating. "Do you think Elizabeth and Ben are okay with letting Libby keep Freddie here for the reception? Some of the guests might be too afraid of him to get a piece of cake."

"Are you kidding? That's exactly why Ben loves the idea. Watch this." He grinned in antic.i.p.ation and nodded to the right of Libby.

Janet followed his gaze. A young man slowly made his way around the dance floor, smiling and exchanging h.e.l.los, but never stopping as he worked his way toward the cake table.

Janet frowned. The boy looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, far too old for Libby. Of course, he might not realize that. Jack and Ellie's daughter looked frighteningly mature in her pale blue bridesmaid's gown.

Libby finally noticed him as Freddie finished a smear of frosting off her finger. Janet smiled. A mixture of pride and panic clutched her heart as she realized how close her friend's daughter was to womanhood and how many boys would soon be making this same approach, testing their luck.

The boy stepped closer, smiling and c.o.c.king his head in the manner every man used when checking out a woman. Janet tensed as she watched.

She wasn't the only one.

At knee level, Freddie's body b.u.mped the young man as the dog inserted himself between them. The boy took a step back, looking down to meet the direct stare of two unblinking canine eyes. Every muscle on Freddie was alert, from his sharply p.r.i.c.ked ears to his stiffly planted hind legs.

Libby smiled, dropping her hand to Freddie's head in an obvious introduction. The boy's gaze flicked between Libby's casual smile and Freddie's hard stare. Although they couldn't hear what was said, Janet imagined his words must have become as tentative as his posture as he inched backward again. Finally giving in to his discomfort, he turned and walked away. Libby leaned sideways, watching him with casual interest until he blended into the crowd before scratching Freddie behind the ears and offering another bit of cake.

Rocky chuckled.

Janet hummed a noncommittal sound. "One of these days some boy won't be scared off so easily. Or she'll leave Freddie at home. Then what?"

"Then she'd better be ready to shoot her father with a tranquilizer gun."

Janet suspected he was right. "Are you going to be like that if we have a daughter?"

"d.a.m.n right. Especially if she's half as pretty as her mom." He nuzzled her ear, sending delightful shivers across her shoulders. "Is it too early to ditch this party?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Then dance with me again. I need to have you in my arms."

"Well, when you put it like that . . ." She was such a sucker for this guy. He had her wrapped around his finger every bit as much as little Ben did his parents.

She let him lead her across the lawn and onto the dance floor. Leaning against her husband's firm shoulder, she closed her eyes and swayed to the live orchestra music, thinking she could stay like that all night.

It only lasted a minute before a large hand tapped Rocky's shoulder. "Cut, please."

Rocky frowned but before he could protest, Vasili wrapped Janet's hand in his own and inserted himself between her and Rocky. With a wink, she mouthed "'Bye" at Rocky and let the big Russian sweep her away.

He was surprisingly nimble and held her with a light touch as though she might break if he squeezed too hard. She probably would. "You look fantastic in a tux, Vasili."

"I'm handsome, no? And you are perfect gorgeous bride." She beamed, allowing fondness for the big Russian to mix with a healthy caution. "We make beautiful couple, better than you and Rocky. Too bad you have to settle for second best."

"My rotten luck."

"I get nice present for newlyweds, too."

"Thank you." Without faltering, she added, "You included a gift receipt, right?"

"Pfft. You think I give you stolen merchandise? Such sticklers for law, you two." He shook his head over her hopeless moral standards. Looking around the yard and its hanging lanterns and strings of lights, Vasili nodded to himself, as though approving of the ostentatious wealth. His gaze lingered on the house. "Nice place."

"Yes, it is."

"Lots of money here."

"Lots of burglar alarms, too."

He gave her a sly smile. "You funny girl."

She smiled. "Dead serious."

"Maybe you and Rocky make good couple, after all. You too uptight for me."

"You think so? Rocky thinks he needs to protect me from myself and my reckless tendencies."

Vasili puffed up with feigned outrage. "What he know? He think I am dangerous person. Me! Can you believe this?"

"Outrageous. Anyone can see you're a p.u.s.s.ycat."

He had to know she didn't believe it, but he preened anyway, fond of the image. "See? You smarter than Rocky. Maybe I give you back to him before he spreads more nasty lies about me."

She looked across the dance floor to where Rocky watched them with folded arms and a steely gaze. He was still p.r.i.c.kly about Vasili's affection for her, and became more possessive of her after every encounter.

"In a minute," she told Vasili, her voice calm despite the excitement already building inside her. "Let him wait. My husband needs to remember that he's married to a reckless, dangerous woman."

He eyed her suspiciously. "You use me for s.e.xy, jealous purpose?"

"Yes," she admitted.

Vasili nodded his approval. "Excellent! Rocky get what he deserve."

Janet smiled. He certainly would.

Turn the page for a sneak peek

at the first book in a new trilogy by

STARR.

AMBROSE.

featuring the feisty and beautiful Larkin sisters Coming Soon from Pocket Books Rafael DeLuca had his hand on Maggie's a.s.s. Again.

If they'd been at Del Tanner's bar in Barringer's Pa.s.s, she would have planted a vicious elbow jab in his wonderfully ripped midsection and told him to get lost. But they weren't in the valley. They were in the Aerie, the posh Colorado nightclub at the Alpine Sky resort on Two Bears Mountain. People came here to play and be seen, especially if they were rich or famous.

Rafael DeLuca was both. Anything Maggie did to him would be seen by the hordes of his fellow vacationing Hollywood glitterati. Plus, management frowned on p.i.s.sing off the guests, especially the famous ones. Since management included her sister Zoe, Maggie spared Rafael's pretty rib cage and settled for grinding her three-inch heel into his toes as she turned to leave.

The star jerked his hand away. "Ow! s.h.i.t, baby, watch where you step."

"I did." She leaned close so the reporter lurking by the crowded bar wouldn't hear. "Time to go play with someone else."

Rafael's lip curled in a cynical smile. "After buying you drinks for the past hour? I don't think so, baby." He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close.

Maggie stiffened, but reminded herself that she should have seen this coming. She should have blown him off five minutes after he hit on her, when he'd scanned the room, then sauntered over with his smoky-hot gaze and confident opening line: "I always like to meet the most beautiful woman in the room first." He'd flashed his TV smile. "I'm Rafe. And you are. . . ?"

Despite the lame line, Rafael and his reality show costars had been fun to joke around with for an hour. But she preferred men with more depth, and an hour of Rafe and the cast of Trust Fund Brats was enough for her, especially after the unwanted a.s.s grab.

Her toe-crunching move should have worked, but all those drinks he'd been buying had gone down his throat, not hers. His extremities were probably half numb by now. Unfortunately, it didn't affect the strength of his grip as he held her against him.

For Zoe's sake, Maggie gathered some restraint and didn't slug the drunken jerk. But she did put her fists on his chest, holding him at a slight distance. "Get your hands off me before I hurt you," she hissed through clenched teeth.

To her surprise, he released her. Laughing, he growled like a tiger. "Rowr! Feisty Maggie." He clawed the air playfully.

She took a step back while she could. "Look, Rafe, it's been fun, but I'm going to go mingle."

"Perfect. Mingling's what I had in mind, too." He snagged a lock of her long strawberry blonde hair, twirling it between his fingers. "I hear redheads are hot."

"That's hot-tempered, genius." She hated to prove the cliche, but he was pushing her limits. Maggie turned to the man next to her. He had biceps like twin picnic hams and had hovered around Rafael DeLuca all evening like he might be a bodyguard. "You want to help me out here?"

The guy sipped his drink-not his first one-and gave her a dispa.s.sionate glance. "Nope."

Rafe smirked. "Baby," he crooned, "be sensible. I'm about to change your life. See that reporter over there from The Hollywood Scene? If I give the signal, your picture will be all over the country by tomorrow, and that little store of yours will be flooded with more customers than you can handle. My name is magic." He fingered the lock of hair, making sure his hand rubbed against her bare skin at the opening of her blouse.

Her flesh crawled and she brushed his hand away. "My store's doing just fine already. And if you don't move right now, I'll give your paparazzi friend an even better picture to splash across the tabloids."

He stroked her arm thoughtfully, and she checked to make sure he wasn't leaving a trail of slime. "You really have to learn to recognize an opportunity when it's handed to you. Especially when it comes in such a big package." He winked. "I'd think one of the Larkin girls would know all about that."