Celebrity Bachelor

“I see you read the brochure,” Cassie confirmed. Next, she pointed to the burnished brick building they were nearing. “One of the Nicholas daughters was widowed when she was young and left with three small kids. The parents had that built for her and the kids so they could live nearby. Which they did until the daughter remarried and moved away. It’s now our library. The Chancellor’s cottage was actually a house for the man and wife who were the Nicholases’ domestic staff. It was turned into the chancellor’s cottage when this became a college. But only one chancellor has ever lived in it. The first one. He was devoted to the school and never married, so even after he retired the college allowed him to stay in the cottage until his death.”

“Did he die in the cottage?” Cantrell asked, for some reason sounding as if he were smiling again, although Cassie couldn’t bring herself to glance over at him walking beside her.

“No. He actually died sitting on a brick garden wall in front of one of the older homes around here. Apparently he’d gone for a walk the way he did every day, had gotten tired and stopped to take a rest—”

“And that was all she wrote for him?”

“He had a heart attack sitting there. No one realized it for a couple of hours. Everybody who saw him thought he was snoozing. He sometimes did that, he’d walk, find somewhere to sit and nap in the sunshine for a while, then get up and finish his walk—”

“How old was this one?”

“Ninety-seven.”

“People live forever here.”

“Not forever, but we do have some who get up in years. Anyway,” Cassie concluded as they rounded the section of the grounds where students often sat on the benches to read or talk, “by the time the chancellor died, the cottage was too small for the current chancellor and his family, plus they were already living in their own home, so the cottage was just left vacant. But the dean says it’s been fixed up for your visit.”

“You’re just full of stories, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry. I know, they’re dull,” she responded out of reflex because it was what Brandon had always said….

“I didn’t say dull,” Cantrell corrected.

But he also didn’t say she wasn’t boring him, Cassie noted, still convinced that she was.

The chancellor’s cottage came into view then, behind more trees and a lavish hedge that was trimmed to just below the paned and shuttered windows.

“It really is a cottage,” Cantrell marveled as if that hadn’t been what he’d expected in spite of the title. “It looks like something out of Grimms’ fairy tales. Not that it looks grim…”

She knew what he meant. The cottage was a small Tudor-style house, with a sharply pointed roof over gables and a front door that was arched on top rather than squared off. The door was also larger than it should have been, dwarfing the house to some degree.

“Are cookie-baking elves going to rush out?” Cantrell asked as Cassie took the key from under the welcome mat and used it to open the oversized door.

Of course it would seem comically quaint to someone like him, she thought as she did. He might be the epitome of the all-American success story but he definitely seemed more like James Dean than Jimmy Stewart.

But she only said, “I don’t think cookie-baking elves were part of the spruce-up, no.”

She stepped aside so he could go in, but he motioned for her to enter first, earning points for manners even if he had just put down her town. Or at least, that was how Cassie viewed it.

She did go in ahead of him, though, wanting nothing so much as to have this over with so she could get home and not see this guy again until she was more presentable.

He followed behind her as she set the key on the small table just inside the door.

“It’s all pretty much here, where you can see it,” she said then. “One room. Kitchen, bedroom, living room—”

She did a display-model sort of wave to present it to him and gave him a moment to glance around at the few cupboards, sink, miniature refrigerator and two-burner stove that lined the wall to the left of the door; the sofa, armchair, coffee table, single reading lamp and television beyond that and the double bed, nightstand and chest of drawers that made up the bedroom in an alcove toward the rear of the space.

It had all been cleaned and painted, Cassie noted. Plus there were new slipcovers on the furniture and a fresh quilt over the bed she was betting had just-bought linens on it.

“The bathroom is through that door,” Cassie added after a moment, aiming an index finger at the walnut panel facing into the bedroom alcove. “There’s a claw-footed tub with a shower over the center of it, along with the rest of the requisite accommodations—nothing luxurious but it’s all in working order.”

She was just about to ask if he had luggage somewhere when she saw two leather suitcases on the bench at the foot of the bed.

“I guess someone already brought your bags,” she said unnecessarily.

“I had them sent ahead. Glad to see they got here.”

Cassie ventured to the refrigerator then and opened that door to peer inside, discovering what she’d suspected even though no one had filled her in beforehand.

“The fridge is stocked,” she informed him, moving to look in the cupboard above the brand-spanking-new coffeemaker. “There’s coffee and filters. And breakfast cereal. Fruit in that bowl on the counter. But I don’t see any cookies, baked by elves or not.”

He chuckled despite the fact that there had been an edge of sarcasm to her voice.

“Too bad. I like cookies.”

Cassie glanced at him then, discovering him smiling amiably enough, clearly unaware that he’d ticked her off. Which probably meant she was being overly sensitive when it came to her hometown—another throwback to other days. To a different man. So she consciously discarded her own minor pique and amended her tone.

“Is there anything you need that isn’t here?”

He shook his head. “Seems comfortable enough. I have my cell so it doesn’t matter that there isn’t a telephone. And I can probably get cookies somewhere else.”

He could probably snap his fingers and the dean or the mayor would come running with freshly baked ones, Cassie thought. But she didn’t say that. Instead she allowed Joshua Cantrell a small smile.

“Great dimples,” he observed with a tilt of that handsome head.

“Mmm,” Cassie said, beginning to wonder if the guy was working her for some reason. Maybe he was the kind of man who had to win over and try to seduce every woman he came into contact with. Because surely that could be the only explanation if he was actually flirting with her the way it seemed.

“Tomorrow—” she began.

But that was as far as she got. “Alyssa has only one class tomorrow so she and I are going to spend the day together. You’re off the hook as potential-donor baby-sitter in place of what was his name? Curt or Kirby or…Kirk—that’s it. The guy I was supposed to hook up with tonight who already let it slip that he’s the head of fund-raising.”

So he knew.

Cassie didn’t deny it. “Kirk Samson. He hurt his back late today and will be out of commission the whole week.”

“Which is why there was the Sunday night phone call to you, dragging you away from moving and not warning you that what they want my sister’s freshman adviser to do is take over schmoozing the moneybags.”

Cassie flinched and made a face.

“It’s okay. Comes with the territory. But let’s just do it like this—I know up front what the powers that be want of me. You don’t need to put in any kind of plugs or pleas or promotions. Let’s just shelve that right off the bat, okay?”

“Okay.”

“What I’m interested in is getting familiar with the school, the town and the people my sister is going to be in close proximity to and relying on for the next four years. So to tell you the truth, since setting eyes on you, I’ve been thinking that Kirk the Fund-raiser’s accident is a stroke of luck for me—”

“I doubt that it was that for him.”

“True. But for me it means that now I get the insider’s view. Kind of like going into a restaurant through the kitchen instead of being ushered in the front door and taken to the VIP section. I’m also thinking that if people around here meet me as a regular guy who one of their own is showing around, this will all go much more smoothly. There will be less of a chance of anyone realizing who I am or calling some damn tabloid to report it, and that will ultimately give Alyssa the chance of staying off the radar here. And even if someone does track her to Northbridge eventually, it would help if, by then, your little town likes her—and me—enough to circle the wagons to protect her. I think that could all start now, with you.”

In other words, the dean and mayor wanted her to win his favors, and he wanted her to make the whole town love him and form an instant loyalty to him and his sister.

Was that all?

Nothing like a little pressure. And with everything she owned still in boxes she should be unloading.

For the second time—only to a different audience— Cassie said, “I can’t make any promises about people liking you or circling wagons to protect Alyssa. But I will show you around and introduce you as Joshua Johansen.”

But unlike the mayor, Cantrell seemed satisfied with her reply. “Good enough. I just want a low-profile, low-key, no-big-deal week.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“So tomorrow night? The Welcome To Northbridge College thing?”

“Right. It’s a meet-and-greet—mainly with administrators and other parents. The teaching staff will be at the reception on Wednesday night, which you will hear about at the Welcome To Northbridge thing when the dean outlines all of the activities and events scheduled for Parents’ Week.”

“We can hook up for that, then? After my day with Alyssa?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“Great. I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Cassie wasn’t sure if that was simply a courtesy remark or if he was looking forward to the Welcome night or to seeing her again. There were shades of all three in that simple sentence.

But she opted for discounting the possibility that he’d be looking forward to seeing her because she didn’t really believe that could be true.

And since that seemed to conclude what was needed of her—for the moment, at any rate—she said, “If there’s nothing else you need then, I’ll leave you to your shower.”

He smiled again at that and there was a hint of sexy amusement playing about the corners of his mouth that she didn’t quite understand. It wasn’t as if she’d said something suggestive, she thought.

And yet, once they’d said good-night and she’d left him in the chancellor’s cottage, the thought of Joshua Cantrell taking a shower did seem to linger in her mind in a way that wasn’t altogether innocent.

In fact, it wasn’t innocent at all when she began to imagine him sloughing off that leather jacket, that T-shirt, those jeans….

But Cassie chased the images out of her head by reminding herself that this was Joshua Cantrell she’d been on the verge of mentally picturing in his altogether.

Joshua Cantrell who, if Brandon Adams had been a world away from her, was at least two worlds away. Or maybe three or four.

But however many worlds away from her and hers he was, it was enough to remember that he, like Brandon, was not a man for her.

Joshua Cantrell was a successful, wealthy, sought-after man who showed up on magazine covers with a different woman every week.

A different beautiful woman every week.

And she was a country bumpkin.

Oil and water.

They didn’t mix.

And she wasn’t going to forget it.

Not ever again.

Chapter Three

“Umm, cowboys are coming.”

It was late Monday afternoon and Joshua was lying on a blanket he and his sister had spread under a tree in order to have a picnic in the shade. A tree that he’d thought was in the middle of nowhere when they’d pulled the motorcycle off the road a few hours earlier.

His eyes were closed, his hands were under his head and he’d been dozing while Alyssa read her biology textbook. But Alyssa’s voice snapped him from the brink of sleep and he opened his eyes to find that two men were approaching them on horseback. Complete with the boots and hats to prove his sister wasn’t exaggerating when she’d identified them as cowboys.

Joshua sat up, blinked to clear his eyes and then stood.

The two horsemen guided their mounts to within a few feet of the blanket and came to a stop.

“Hi,” Joshua greeted.

“You know you’re on private property?” one of the men asked without answering Joshua’s hello.

“No, sorry, I didn’t know. It wasn’t fenced off or posted. We were just out for the afternoon, having a picnic. We’ll get going, if we’re trespassing.”

“You’re trespassing, but so long as you’re not squattin’ you can stay a while. Just make sure you pick up after yourself.”

“Absolutely,” Joshua assured them.

Both cowboys were not much older than Alyssa and might not have been as accommodating had she not been there. But Joshua recognized the interest in the glances both men were tossing in her direction.

Apparently Alyssa hadn’t missed it, either. Or the fact that the cowboys were handsome cusses, because she set down her book and got to her feet, too.

“Can I pet your horses?” she asked.

Joshua could barely suppress a laugh at the change in her tone. That was definitely not how she talked to him. But now his eighteen-year-old sister was flirting. And it reminded him that she wasn’t a little girl anymore.

There was plenty of other evidence to prove that, as well. She was tall and slender, but had developed some cleavage he’d discovered her showing off underneath the tight tank top and overblouse she was wearing today. She’d also had her black hair cut into a style that was very short and edgy, and she was spiking it on top and in back—something much, much different from the long straight hair with bangs that had always made her look sweet and prim.

There was the addition of makeup, too. She wore a dark gray eye shadow, and a coal-black liner and mascara that caused her pale eyes to stand out much, much more. Plus she was wearing lipstick she hadn’t been using the last time he’d seen her, a month ago.

The stuffy headmistress at the all-girls boarding school she’d only recently graduated from wouldn’t have approved of the changes she’d made to become the college Alyssa. But Joshua reminded himself that he wasn’t her former stuffy headmistress. He was her brother. And he couldn’t deny that she was all grownup. Whether he liked it or not.

So instead of interfering with her playing coquette to the cowboys, he sat back on the blanket as Alyssa went to stand between the horses and their riders.

Joshua didn’t abdicate all his responsibilities or brotherly protectiveness, though. Rather than lie down or close his eyes again, he stretched his legs out in front of him, propped one ankle on top of the other, and crossed his arms over his chest, lounging against the tree trunk to keep watch on the proceedings.

His sister’s back was to him so only a word or two of what she said as she talked to the cowboys was clear to him. They were grinning down at her and answering her questions with as much coy teasing and flirting as Joshua figured his sister was dishing out. But it all seemed innocent enough and maybe because of that, his mind started wandering.

Well, maybe because of that and because the sight of one of the horses served to prompt his brain.

The horse on the right was a reddish-brown color. Almost the identical shade of Cassie Walker’s hair.

Russet—that was what the color was. The color of the horse and the color of the freshman adviser’s hair.

Cassie Walker had russet-brown hair. Really stunning russet-brown hair.

Hair so soft-looking, so shiny, that he’d kept trying to will the band that held it to break so he could know how long it was. How it looked when it was free. So he could see it fall around her face…

It had been such a kid-like thing to be wishing for. He couldn’t believe he was thinking about her again now—he hadn’t been able to think about much else since they’d met, and this wasn’t something he’d experienced in all of his adult life. Not even with Jennie. It was a useless waste of the thought process. Of brainpower. And yet there they were, as big as life—thoughts of Cassie Walker spinning around in his head, out of control. As out of control as he’d expect from some horny teenager.

Thoughts and images of her hair, her face, her body…

It wasn’t even a remarkable body or a strikingly beautiful face or more than pretty hair. It wasn’t as if she had the kind of beauty he encountered day in and day out in the form of fashion models and other amazingly beautiful women who were at his disposal or in hot pursuit of him.

But Cassie Walker had something else. Something all her own…

No, she didn’t have the exaggerated cheekbones and sunken cheeks that were the prerequisites of the models he’d met in his travels, but she did have high cheekbones. It was just that they were more like little red apples. Little red apples that made her look healthy and full of life.

She also didn’t have the surgically precise nose or the forehead that would absorb a photographer’s light and cast it back just right. But what she did have was a smooth, flawless complexion and a nose that was small and pert and gave her a sort of air of mischief.

What Cassie Walker had was freshness. And what seemed to him like an inner sunshine that came through a face that was so pretty, so sweet, it just made him want to smile every time he thought about it, every time he pictured her in his head. It made him want to smile the way she smiled. With lips that were just curvy enough, just full enough, just luscious enough, without being overly anything.

And those dimples that appeared when she did smile? He was a sucker for those. They definitely put her over the top.

The dimples and her eyes.

She had great eyes. Turquoise, but more green than blue. Only unlike the stone, her eyes weren’t an opaque turquoise. They were luminous and glimmering and had a transparent quality to them.

She wasn’t statuesque, either. She was actually on the small side—not more than two or three inches over five feet, he thought. Tiny, almost, compared to the women he was used to. But tight and just round enough where it counted.

He’d liked her. That was the bottom line to it all, and he knew it. That was why he hadn’t been able to avoid thoughts like those he was having about her at that moment.

And it wasn’t only her looks or her body. She had a touch of attitude that had given him a charge, too. Despite the fact that the attitude had come through when she’d alluded to not being thrilled with the gig the dean had obviously thrust upon her at the last minute.

Attitude and spunk. In a package that might not fit into the category of fashion model, but that defined the word adorable for him.

And if that package were gift wrapped? It would have been gift wrapped in gingham.

Gingham that he might like to take some time to slowly, leisurely, tear away…

“Did you hear that, Joshua?”

The sound of his name brought Joshua out of his fantasy and forced him to pay attention to his sister and the two cowboys again.

“No, sorry, I didn’t,” he answered Alyssa’s question, hoping whatever it was he’d been supposed to hear had been said quietly enough to make it possible that it hadn’t reached him.

“They said would you make sure when we leave that the motorcycle doesn’t tear up the pasture,” Alyssa repeated.

“Sure,” he agreed. “No problem.”

Satisfied, the cowboys said goodbye to them both then and when Alyssa stepped back, they turned the horses and sauntered off the way they’d come.

“Why do I have the feeling there are horseback riding lessons in your future?” Joshua joked as his sister rejoined him on the blanket, glad to have her company to hopefully distract him from all those thoughts of Cassie Walker.

Alyssa’s sunny face erupted into a very pleased grin. “Horseback riding lessons,” she mused. “That might be a good idea. Now that I’m in Montana. This is the Wild West, after all.”

“Pace yourself, Lyssa. Don’t forget you’re new to this femme fatale stuff.”

Alyssa only smiled.

“You are new to it, aren’t you?” Joshua probed, wondering suddenly if this was just the first he was seeing of something that had been going on for a while.

“Whatever you say,” his sister finally responded as if humoring him. “But don’t you forget that I haven’t been locked away in a convent—even if that was how you saw boarding school. It was still in the heart of the French Riviera and there was some fraternizing with other, coed schools and the locals in town. You visited only when you could get away and that left me with a lot of time to fill….”

Joshua grimaced as if he were hearing more than he wanted to hear. “Leave me my illusions,” he begged.

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

“Okay. Then we should probably be heading back soon so you can change for that meet-and-greet tonight,” Alyssa said then.

“Mmm. It’s just so nice and peaceful and quiet out here.”

“And with fabulous scenery,” she said, glancing at the cowboys retreating into the distance.

“Illusions. Remember my illusions,” Joshua reminded her.

Alyssa laughed, obviously enjoying the misery she was causing him. But she went back to the safer subject just the same. “You’re sure you want to do the meet-and-greet alone tonight?”

“Yeah, to test the waters,” Joshua confirmed. “So far you’ve made it under the radar on your own, but it’s tougher for me since I get splashed around the tabloids more. Before too many people connect us, let’s make sure there isn’t any initial recognition that might blow it for you.”

“I haven’t even had a single you-know-who-you-look-like here.”

“Which is great. That’s just what we want. Hopefully I’ll get by the same way and maybe we’ll be home free.”

“I hate for you to have to go alone tonight, though,” Alyssa said.

“I won’t be alone. I’ll be with your adviser. She’s been assigned to me by the powers that be who want donations. You know how that goes—I’m sure she has orders not to leave my side.”

The idea of Cassie Walker’s company pleased him more than he wanted it to. More than it should have, given the fact that it would be against her will. Which, admittedly, was a downer. And yet he was still happy to be going into the evening knowing he would get to see her again.

Then, because he couldn’t stop himself and this seemed like a way of doing it without raising undue suspicion, he said, “So, tell me about her.”

“Her? Cassie?”

“Yeah.”

Alyssa frowned slightly at him. “I can’t tell you anything about her because I don’t know anything about her. She’s been nice. Like I said before, she got me out of that chemistry class I hated when the instructor wouldn’t sign my drop form. She talked to him for me and persuaded him to do it after all. But beyond that—”

“Do you at least know if she’s married? Or single? Or engaged? Or involved with someone?”

Alyssa reared back slightly and took a closer look at him.

Joshua knew he was no good at fooling her, but he had his fingers crossed that she might not see through him this time.

No such luck.

His sister grinned ear to ear suddenly, made fists of her hands, raised them and did a little upper body dance, making circles with her fists as she sang, “You like her! You like her! You like her!”

Still hoping to put one over on her, he rolled his eyes. “Jeez, you can be obnoxious.”

Alyssa’s answer was more of the same torso dance to accompany the second chorus of “You like her! You like her! You like her!”

“I just want to know if I’m stepping on anyone’s toes by keeping her away from them. Husbands, boyfriends, fiancés tend to get bent out of shape if their women are having to hang out with me for the sake of work. And if that happens, significant others could take a closer look, realize who I am—and who you are—and wreck this whole thing.”