Personal Relations

Love in a limo?

Brooke scooted inside the car, to the far side of a padded bench seat. Chase slid in beside her and gave her hand a squeeze. Across from them, Reverend Bob took his place and pulled out some papers. Looking around the interior of the limo, Brooke was overwhelmed by the garlands of greenery, flowers and ribbons that decorated the small space.

“Since we have some time before the ceremony, I’ll just point out the special features of this particular limo.” Reverend Bob gestured to the opaque glass partition behind him. “Soundproof. We’ll lower it during the ceremony so the driver can be your witness, but once you begin the honeymoon, it will be raised.”

“Honeymoon?” Brooke asked.

“Yes. You’ve got the limo for two hours.” He gestured for them to move apart, reached between them and lowered the padded panel. “You pull that handle there, and the seat will fold down to make a bed.”

Brooke was dumbfounded. He expected…people actually…

“Cool,” Chase said, giving Brooke a wicked grin.

Dear Reader,

I thought I’d get right to the good stuff—aphrodisiacs. After all, this is a Harlequin Temptation, right? In researching the scene where Brooke’s sister and Chase’s brother are trying to kindle a romance between their siblings, I learned some interesting things. Did you know that through the ages, there were a lot of foods—not just oysters—that were considered to have erotic powers? So, of course, I had to mention them….

One of the aphrodisiacs I used in the book was pine nut soup. Would you believe that pine nuts have been used to inspire romance since 116 B.C.? Do they work? I’ll let you be the judge of that. Look below for a recipe.

In the meantime, sit back and have fun watching Chase and Brooke as they struggle to avoid being caught in the romantic snare set for them by their siblings—and find themselves caught up in love anyway!

Have fun,

Heather MacAllister

P.S. You can visit my Web site at HeatherMacAllister.com

Recipe for Pine Nut Soup

Puree 1/2 cup of pine nuts and 3 egg yolks in a food processor until you have a smooth paste. Put the mixture in a saucepan and add 1 cup of chicken broth and 1 cup of cream. Add 1/8 teaspoon of saffron and heat gently, stirring consistently until the soup thickens. Don’t let it boil!

Serve immediately—and enjoy!

Personal Relations

Heather MacAllister

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To Trudy and Bill Hanes.

And Pilgrim.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Prologue

I’m a female West Houston High senior and am looking for a valentine for my overprotective older sister who’s cramping my style. She’s a babe-in-waiting, not a woofer. If you’ve got an available older brother who’s at least twenty-five, and isn’t a troll, call me and let’s hook them up. I’ll make it worth your while.

“HI, MY NAME IS Jeff Ryan and I’m calling about the ad you put in Additudes.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m glad my sister didn’t answer the phone. Hang on and let me kick my door shut…okay. I’m Courtney Weathers, by the way.”

“Uhm, I know who you are—you’re in South Pacific at school, right?”

“Yes, just the chorus, but I am the understudy for Nellie.”

“Is that good?”

“Well, not as good as being cast as Nellie, since that’s the lead, but better than not being the understudy. I mean, people can get colds, right? Anyway, you’ve got a brother?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, is he cute?”

“I’m a guy! I don’t know if he’s cute or not.”

“Do you look like him?”

“Not really. He’s my stepbrother, actually, my ex-stepbrother, but he never has a problem getting dates, if that helps.”

“So why doesn’t he have a girlfriend now? And I’m assuming he doesn’t or this call is so over.”

“He works all the time and they get mad when he bails on them. And when he’s not working, he’s bugging me.”

“I hear that.”

“I mean, he’s a great guy, and he’s letting me live with him while I finish up at West Houston, but he’s got this idea that I’m going to ‘follow in his footsteps,’ or some garbage like that. He’s got my whole life planned out to be just like his.”

“Oh, wow! You just described my sister! I’ve got a major case of goose bumps going here.”

“Hey, yeah?”

“I mean, Brooke, that’s my sister, she’s just so totally into this whole college thing and, like, I’m telling her I want to be an actress and she just so won’t listen.”

“And your parents are listening to her, right?”

“Oh, it’s so bad. My dad’s working in El Bahar, so they’re living overseas and they think that my sister is this perfect goody-goody, mainly because she is. They’re always taking her side. It’s like they think I’m still this little kid.”

“Well…I don’t think Chase—my step-bro—is the kind of guy to go for a goody-goody.”

“But that’s just it—she didn’t used to be. It’s this responsibility trip she’s on. It’s got her way too tightly wound. She needs a distraction.”

“Yeah…I’m thinking that’s what Chase needs. All he does is work—”

“Then is he going to have time to date my sister?”

“If your sister looks anything like you, he’ll make time.”

“Oh! Hey, thanks. That’s sweet.”

“Uh, yeah. See, here’s the thing. He’s trying to set this good example for me and so if he knows I’m watching how he treats your sister, then he won’t cancel out, or I’ll make a big deal out of it. You know, push the guilt button.”

“Okay. So we need to get them together. Do you have anything going on after school?”

“No.”

“Why don’t you volunteer to help backstage with the sets and props? We need more people.”

“I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“They’ll teach you and this way, I can introduce Brooke to your brother when they come to pick us up after rehearsal.”

“Uhm, I have my own car. Or right now, Chase’s.”

“Cool. So take it to get the oil changed or something.”

“Okay. I’ll think of something. So, when do you want to do this?”

“How about tomorrow?”

1

DOWNTOWN TRAFFIC had been worse than usual, so Brooke Weathers was later than she liked to be when she pulled her car into the West Houston High parking lot by the auditorium. Several teenagers gathered in clumps by the brick sign. It looked as though the South Pacific rehearsal had already finished.

She scanned the clumps looking for her dark-haired sister and finally found her draped against a silver Porsche as she talked to the occupants.

Some father had just had his midlife crisis, Brooke guessed, since the fancy car was out of the league of most of the students here.

She lowered her window. “Courtney!” she called just as Courtney spotted her. Her sister straightened and gestured for Brooke to come closer.

Talk about lazy. If Courtney could just be bothered to walk a few extra steps, then Brooke could exit now instead of being forced to drive the entire circuit of the parking lot. She shook her head, but Courtney beckoned again.

It had been a long day, a day in which Brooke should have stayed an extra half hour at work and would have, if she hadn’t had to pick up Courtney. In spite of the two cars behind her, Brooke shook her head again and gestured back.

Courtney was mad. She stormed over to the car, jerked open the door, then slammed it shut. “Why wouldn’t you come over there?”

Brooke got in line for the traffic light. “I didn’t feel like driving all the way around the parking lot just because you were in diva mode.”

Courtney jammed her shoulder belt into the clasp. “I only wanted you to meet Jeff’s brother.”

“Who’s Jeff?”

“You know, the guy who’s working on the sets. That was his brother’s car.” She gave Brooke a sideways look. “His single brother. I told him about you. He acted interested.”

“Interested in one thing.”

“Oh, come on Brooke! Lighten up and maybe you could go out with him.”

“Go out with him?” Brooke crossed her fingers in a warding-off-evil-spirits sign. “An older single man with a Porsche? Have I taught you nothing?”

“Yeah, how to spend weekends cleaning the house, then rewarding ourselves with microwave popcorn and a video. Whoopee.”

Brooke actually looked forward to Saturday nights with her sister. “You’re not dateless every Saturday.”

“You are,” Courtney said quietly.

“I’m too tired to date!” Brooke laughed.

Courtney didn’t. “I really wish you’d meet Jeff’s brother.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

The last thing Brooke needed right now was first-date stress, followed by will-he-call stress, and if he did call, and she did start going out with him, the should-I-or-shouldn’t-I stress. With Courtney watching her every move, it was darn well going to be shouldn’t. Besides, most men didn’t understand why a single woman in her twenties had a self-imposed midnight curfew. But Brooke couldn’t apply one set of rules to her dating life and another to Courtney’s even though Courtney was still in high school. Brooke shuddered just imagining the arguments. It wasn’t worth it.

What would be worth it was the satisfaction she’d feel when she got Courtney into a good college.

Then Brooke could enter the dating scene.

Until then, she didn’t need the stress.

“YA GOTTA MEET HER, MAN,” Jeff insisted. “If she’s anything like Courtney, she’s hot.”

Chase Davenport gave his brother a long look, then flicked on his turn signal.

“I mean hot in a good way,” Jeff tried to explain. “A classy way. Yeah. Classical hot.” He dug in his backpack and withdrew a piece of crumpled notebook paper. “Here’s her phone number.”

“No thanks,” Chase said. “I can find my own women.”

“For a guy who drives a serious chick magnet like this, you aren’t doing such a good job.” Jeff picked up Chase’s cell phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Programing in Courtney’s number in case you change your mind.”

Chase didn’t bother to object. He could always erase it later. “I was surprised to hear that you were on the stage crew. I didn’t know you were interested in that kind of thing.” Chase supposed he should be thankful that Jeff was finally showing interest in something, but he never would have guessed it would be the school musical.

“Oh, yeah. It’s cool.”

“Is that how you met Courtney?”

“Everybody knows Courtney,” he said.

Chase was beginning to get the picture. Jeff was more interested in this Courtney than he was in the play. He thought back to the girl he’d just met. She was pretty, in a drama student way. She’d had on a bright red sweater and lips to match and long silver earrings that had brushed against her cheeks when she talked. No one could accuse her of being the mousy type, which Chase would have figured more as Jeff’s style.

Chase smiled to himself as Jeff went on about lights and computer programs and the sets he was going to help build. This Courtney had high-maintenance written all over her. Jeff might as well learn about high-maintenance women now when he had time for them, because he sure wouldn’t have time when he started college in the fall.

And, as Chase had discovered, he wouldn’t have time for them when he was trying to establish a career, either.

Chase, himself, didn’t even have time for low-maintenance women. But that was all right. Contrary to popular belief, he’d discovered there were actually no maintenance women out there—women who agreed that work took precedence for now.

Chase downshifted for the approaching traffic light. The problems started when casual became not-so-casual. That’s when the expectations started. And, Chase had to admit, he’d been guilty of changing the terms of a relationship a couple of times, himself. But no more. He had a plan. It was a beautifully simple plan—make a potful of money and semiretire so he could enter the ultimate high-maintenance relationship—a wife and family.

He glanced over at Jeff. They were a lot alike—both children of parents who’d had children before they’d worked through all their selfishness. Jeff’s mother still wasn’t ready for children, which was why Chase was getting a sneak preview of parenting a teenager. He didn’t mind. Jeff was basically a good kid and Chase was flattered that he’d considered fixing him up with Courtney’s sister.

But since he suspected high-maintenance ran in the family, he’d have to pass this time.

“JEFF? THIS ISN’T working. It’s been days and they won’t even wave hello to each other.”

“I know. And Chase said he’s not going to call your sister.”

“It’s really too bad, because I think they’d be good together. You know where we went wrong? We shouldn’t have tried to set them up. We should have had them accidentally meet somehow.”

“Yeah, but they’re not going to fall for it now.”

“Unless we give them a good enough reason to get together. And we’ll have to come up with something soon, because I have to have my film school application and deposit postmarked the day after Valentine’s Day.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I’ll need the money! Brooke won’t approve it and without Brooke’s okay, my parents won’t fork over the cash.”

“I still don’t—”

“If we come up with something drastic, then film school will look good by comparison, and Chase will be thrilled to let you do what you want to do.”

“I don’t know what I want to do.”

“You’d better decide soon, because you’re going to be in a great bargaining position.”

“MARRIED? Don’t make me laugh.” But Brooke didn’t feel like laughing. Actually, she felt a little sick and was getting sicker by the moment. Watching her bowl of high-fiber, vitamin-fortified cereal swell into a gray mass as it soaked up the milk didn’t help.

“So you’d rather we just live together first?” Courtney smirked. “Mom and Dad will be interested to hear that, especially after their little dairy lecture.”

Brooke blinked.

“You know, why would a man buy the cow when he can get the milk for free?” Courtney took a bite of cereal. Hers still crunched.

“Well, if you want to consider yourself a cow, then I can’t stop you,” Brooke retorted, goaded by the I’ve-got-you look on Courtney’s face.

“And since I’m eighteen, you can’t stop me from getting married, either.”

True, true, horribly true. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try.

Last night was Courtney’s third date this week with Jeff Ryan, a boy in every sense of the word. Courtney said he was a fellow senior at West Houston High, but Brooke had a hard time believing it.

Baby fat still padded his muscles and if he had to shave more than once a week, Brooke would be surprised. In fact, when Brooke had met him just last Monday, she’d been surprised that Courtney had been dating him.

He wasn’t Courtney’s type. Not that there was anything wrong with the boy. If he had another ten years’ seasoning, he’d be exactly the type of husband Brooke would want for her younger sister. But right now, he was just potential with hormones and a car.

Yeah, the hormones were there, in spite of the smooth cheeks. Brooke had seen the way he watched Courtney, had seen the way he’d touch her shoulder and arm, and the way he’d tuck her hair behind her ear when they sat next to each other. The car wasn’t the only thing with something under the hood.

Brooke studied her sister, realizing she’d taken the wrong tack. She’d been antagonistic and had immediately put Courtney on the defensive. At Courtney’s age, she would have hated that. So why couldn’t she remember what it felt like to be eighteen, with her whole life ahead of her?

Maybe because she’d never been eighteen with a bright future ahead of her. Maybe because she’d screwed everything up at age seventeen.

Nobody knew better than Brooke how one bad decision could have far-reaching consequences. She was lucky that her parents trusted her enough to keep an eye on Courtney while they worked overseas in El Bahar.

This time, Brooke wasn’t going to let them down.

“SHE’S SO CUTE. And you should see the way her eyes crinkle and her nose kind of scrunches up when she laughs.”

Chase Davenport threw away the shiny silk tie that exactly matched his shirt and reached for a tie with a raised pattern. One that he could manage to coerce into a knot, which he was finding hard to do when his hands were shaking with suppressed anger. He should have known that Courtney was trouble. “A wife needs a few more qualities than crinkly eyes and a…scrunchy nose.” Chase spoke with deceptive mildness, so deceptive that his stepbrother continued to list more of his girlfriend’s insipid qualities, oblivious to Chase’s disgust.

The boy was barely eighteen and already a gold digger had her hooks in him. Chase had hoped to shield Jeff from women of this type. Women like Jeff’s mother.

Of course. Why should Chase be surprised? Jeff no doubt felt comfortable around gold diggers. It ran in his blood. Chase tightened the knot on his tie, satisfied at last. What irony. The son of a gold digger caught by a gold digger.

Too bad it wasn’t in Chase to appreciate the irony. He’d long ago abandoned any thoughts of revenge against Zoe Colquitt Ryan Zukerman Brown Davenport el Haibik del Franco. It was his father’s business, not his, and Chase had already been out on his own during their brief marriage. Besides, for a while, he’d had a little brother.

Jeff wasn’t so little anymore, if he was talking about marriage. It was absurd. He interrupted Jeff’s blathering. “Have you actually proposed to the girl?”

“Well, like, yeah. That’s how we know we’re getting married.”

“Did you give her a ring?”

“A ring?”

“An engagement ring, usually a diamond, which you’ll slip onto the fourth finger of her left hand. She’ll squeal happily, maybe even manage to squeeze out a tear or two, then race over to her girlfriends who will make all kinds of admiring noises while they mentally appraise the size and quality of the stone.”

“Uh, I don’t think Courtney is that kind of girl.”

“They’re all that kind of girl.”

“Courtney’s different.”

Chase stifled a sigh. “What does her family say?” Maybe they could form an alliance.

“Oh, her sister thinks we definitely should get married.”

“Would that be the hot sister?”

“I meant classy.” Jeff got that sappy look on his face again. “She can see how much in love we are and said we shouldn’t wait too long.”

Yeah, sounded like the sister had dollar signs in her eyes, too.

Great. Extricating his stepbrother from this mess was sounding more expensive all the time.

BROOKE DRANK her orange juice as she considered her next remark. “When’s the wedding?”

Courtney threw her a startled look, quickly masked. “Well…Valentine’s Day is coming up. It would be a shame to miss the opportunity.”

Brooke couldn’t stand it. This wasn’t a moment to be calm after all. “Two weeks? Are you crazy? You’re not even out of high school yet. And what about college? You’re just going to throw all that away?”

Courtney slammed down her spoon, sending droplets of milk over her sister’s sleeve. Brooke dabbed at them, knowing they’d be covered up by her suit jacket.

“Yes, let’s talk about college,” Courtney said. “I do not want to go to Texas, or A&M, or Texas Tech—”

“You don’t have to. I’ve been saving, too, so you can go to a private college if you want. You can go to Baylor, or George—”

“Or the Los Angeles School of Cinematic Arts?”

“No film school.”

Courtney sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Then I don’t see that I’m throwing away much.”

“How could you do this to Mom and Dad?”

“Oh, please, not that again.”

“Yes, that. They’ve worked hard so that you—”

“They wouldn’t have had to work so hard if it hadn’t been for you.”

The sisters stared at each other. Brooke couldn’t have spoken past the sudden lump in her throat even if she’d wanted to. Courtney suddenly couldn’t meet her eyes.

She might have even been going to apologize, except that there was a knock on the kitchen door. Leaping up, Courtney threw open the door to Jeff.

“Jeff,” she cooed and draped herself over him. “I’ve missed you sooo much.”

“I’ve missed you,” Jeff said, after he adjusted to Courtney’s deadweight and put his arms around her waist.

“I’ve missed you more.”

“I’ve missed you more.”

“Missed you more times infinity.” Courtney nuzzled against him, her lips inches from his.

Jeff moved even closer. “Missed you more times infinity plus one.”

“I missed you—”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Brooke took her bowl of cereal over to the sink and dumped the contents down the disposal. When she glanced over her shoulder she saw that Courtney and Jeff were alternately kissing and murmuring at each other.

Teenagers and their overactive hormones. Why wasn’t there a pill for that sort of thing? Surely some doctor somewhere was working on one. Brooke should contribute.

She turned on the disposal, counting on the noise to break the mood.

“Let me put on my lip gloss—it’ll just take a sec.” Courtney dug the little pot out of her backpack and stepped into the half bathroom off the kitchen.

Good. If she took the time to put on lip gloss, it meant she wasn’t planning on a makeout session on the way to school.

“Did Courtney tell you the news?” Jeff stood in the still-open doorway, grinning a little wolfishly in Brooke’s opinion. Grinning like a male who’d gotten free milk.

“Yes.” Brooke cleared away the rest of the dishes knowing that Courtney would race out of the house without even thinking about it. Another sign of immaturity.

“I was kinda hoping for a congratulations or something.”

“Forget it. She’s mad. I told you she would be.” Courtney dropped the lip gloss into the backpack and slung it over her shoulder.

“How did your parents take the news?” Brooke asked Jeff.

“I haven’t told them yet,” Jeff cheerfully admitted.

Brooke gave Courtney a look. “Before you start griping at me, see what his parents have to say.”

“My parents aren’t together anymore. I live with my stepbrother—well, technically my ex-stepbrother. But he’s all for us getting married.”

So you’ll be out from underfoot. Ex-stepbrother. The poor kid. Outrage mingled with Brooke’s frustration. “How old is your stepbrother?”

“Oh, he’s old. Thirty or thirty-one. He doesn’t like having a party on his birthdays, so it’s hard to keep track of them.”

Thirtyish? Brooke gritted her teeth. The man should be ashamed of himself. Brooke had visualized someone a couple of years older than Jeff, since any rational adult would have tried to talk him out of marriage.