Falling For Grace

“It’s standard procedure for me to interview people before I hire them, Grace,” Jack said.

She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “By asking them who they’ve slept with? I’m sorry, but that’s getting a bit personal for me.” Her gaze deliberately swept up and down his body. “Maybe you should remember the old saying about those without sin throwing the first stone, because I doubt you’ve been living like a monk.”

Her words angered him, but the hot blaze in her green eyes excited him like nothing he could remember. He wanted to jerk her into his arms, smother her lips with his. It was crazy! She was a stranger, and a pregnant one at that….

Yet the feeling was there. And it felt glorious to a man who’d been emotionally dead for a long, long time.

Dear Reader,

Looking for sensational summer reads? All year we’ve been celebrating Silhouette’s 20th Anniversary with special titles, and this month’s selections are just the warm, romantic tales you’ve been seeking!

Bestselling author Stella Bagwell continues the newest Romance promotion, AN OLDER MAN. Falling for Grace hadn’t been his intention, particularly when his younger, pregnant neighbor was carrying his nephew’s baby! Judy Christenberry’s THE CIRCLE K SISTERS miniseries comes back to Romance this month, when sister Melissa enlists the temporary services of The Borrowed Groom. Moyra Tarling’s Denim & Diamond pairs a rough-hewn single dad with the expectant woman he’d once desired beyond reason…but let get away.

Valerie Parv unveils her romantic royalty series THE CARRAMER CROWN. When a woman literally washes ashore at the feet of the prince, she becomes companion to The Monarch’s Son…but will she ever become the monarch’s wife? Julianna Morris’s BRIDAL FEVER! persists when Jodie’s Mail-Order Man discovers her heart’s desire: the brother of her mail-order groom! And Martha Shields’s Lassoed! is the perfect Opposites Attract story this summer. The sparks between a rough-and-tumble rodeo champ and the refined beauty sent to photograph him jump off every page!

In future months, look for STORKVILLE, USA, our newest continuity series. And don’t miss the charming miniseries THE CHANDLERS REQUEST…from New York Times bestselling author Kasey Michaels.

Happy reading!

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor

Falling for Grace

Stella Bagwell

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To my musician buddies,

The Lutie Outlaws.

Books by Stella Bagwell

Silhouette Romance

Golden Glory #469

Moonlight Bandit #485

A Mist on the Mountain #510

Madeline’s Song #543

The Outsider #560

The New Kid in Town #587

Cactus Rose #621

Hillbilly Heart #634

Teach Me #657

The White Night #674

No Horsing Around #699

That Southern Touch #723

Gentle as a Lamb #748

A Practical Man #789

Precious Pretender #812

Done to Perfection #836

Rodeo Rider #878

*Their First Thanksgiving #903

*The Best Christmas Ever #909

*New Year’s Baby #915

Hero in Disguise #954

Corporate Cowgirl #991

Daniel’s Daddy #1020

A Cowboy for Christmas #1052

Daddy Lessons #1085

Wanted: Wife #1140

†The Sheriff’s Son #1218

†The Rancher’s Bride #1224

†The Tycoon’s Tots #1228

†The Rancher’s Blessed Event #1296

†The Ranger and the Widow Woman #1314

†The Cowboy and the Debutante #1334

†Millionaire on Her Doorstep #1368

The Bridal Bargain #1414

Falling for Grace #1456

Silhouette Special Edition

Found: One Runaway Bride #1049

†Penny Parker’s Pregnant! #1258

Silhouette Books

A Bouquet of Babies

†“Baby on Her Doorstep”

STELLA BAGWELL

sold her first book to Silhouette in November 1985. Now, nearly forty novels later, she is still thrilled to see her books in print and can’t imagine having any other job than that of writing about two people falling in love.

She lives in a small town in southeastern Oklahoma with her husband of nearly thirty years. She has one son.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter One

He was back! Her prayers had been answered!

Heedless of the late hour, Grace Holliday whirled away from the living room window and hurriedly searched the floor for her sandals.

Since they were nowhere in sight, she quickly decided she didn’t need shoes and flew out the door to scurry across the dark lawn toward the bungalow next door. Part of the structure was hidden by pines and magnolia trees, but she hadn’t dreamed the light shining in the kitchen. She could see it plainly now.

The yellow shafts filtering through the pine boughs were like a beacon to her weary heart and in spite of her growing girth, she felt as light as air as she skimmed up the wooden steps and across the planked porch.

The solid wooden door was open to the ocean breeze, and through the screen she could see the small living room was dark. No sound stirred from within the house, making her wonder if he’d fallen asleep.

Rapping her knuckles on the jamb, she called out, “Trent! Trent, it’s me, Grace. Are you in there?”

Seconds dragged into a minute as she stood in the muggy darkness, anxiously awaiting his answer.

To her left, parked beneath the small carport next to the porch was a late-model sedan of an indistinguishable dark color. It wasn’t the vehicle Trent drove while he’d stayed here in the bungalow, but he could have easily changed cars since she’d last seen him.

“Trent! Answer the door!”

Another long minute passed without any sort of response and she decided to enter the house and make herself known to him. Surely he hadn’t heard her knock. He wouldn’t just ignore her. After all, he’d come back to Biloxi. That had to mean something.

Inside the shadow-filled living room, she called again, “Trent! Where are you?”

Moving toward the light in the kitchen, she entered a short hallway. Suddenly the floor creaked behind her, and then a male voice lifted the hair on the back of her neck.

“Who the hell are you?”

Her heart hammering, she whirled around, then unconsciously inched backward toward the light and away from the dark bulky image of a man looming in front of her.

“I—I’m Grace Holliday. Who—are you?”

“Obviously not who you were looking for.”

His deep voice was full of sarcasm and just a hint of warning. Unwittingly she moved several more steps behind her, until she was completely illuminated by the dim overhead light in the kitchen.

“I thought—I was looking for Trent,” she said haltingly.

“I know. I heard.”

Her brows lifted with skepticism. If he’d heard, why hadn’t he answered her knock? she wondered. Slightly irked, she asked, “Is Trent here?”

The man suddenly moved into the light and it was all Grace could do to keep her hand from flying to her mouth as he stopped within inches of her.

“Why do you want to know?”

“I…thought—he—”

Her disconnected words halted completely as her gaze tried to access everything about him at once. Aside from being tall, he was lean and fierce-looking with hooded gray eyes, a square set jaw and chiseled lips, which at the moment were pressed together in a grim line. Hair the color of a lion’s mane curled ever so slightly against his collar and fell in a thick wave straight back from a broad forehead. Grace realized she was looking at one irritated but very sexy man.

“You thought he…what, Miss Holliday?”

Nervously she licked her lips, then pulled her gaze away from him to glance around the room. Funny how nothing in the cozy little kitchen had changed since Trent had come and gone. She supposed the only thing his presence had changed was her.

“Nothing. I…saw the light from next door and thought it was him. Sorry about the mistake.”

The young woman standing in front of him had a messy blob of coal-black curls piled atop her head. She was wearing white shorts and a loose red T-shirt. Her feet were bare and the legs connected to them were long and firm and shapely. But her legs were not what riveted his attention. It was the rounded protrusion evident beneath the swell of her breasts that quickly caught his eye. The woman was pregnant! Very pregnant!

The discovery distracted him, making him momentarily lose his train of thought. Which was a cardinal sin for a man in his field of work.

“My name is Jack Barrett,” he finally said.

She extended her hand to him and Jack felt inclined to take it rather than rebuff this pretty intruder. Which wasn’t like him, either. Jack didn’t usually give a damn whom he snubbed. Beautiful women included.

“Are you—did you buy this place, or something?” she asked in a faintly bewildered tone.

As he clasped her soft hand in his, he decided she couldn’t be more than twenty-two or three. Jack quickly racked his brain, trying to remember if Trent had ever mentioned a girl named Grace, but that was like fishing in a lake for a minnow. In the span of a work week he heard more names than most people heard in a year. And it wasn’t as though he associated with his nephew on a regular basis. Since his sister’s boy had grown up, Jack rarely saw the young man.

“Or something,” he said as he suddenly decided to move cautiously with Grace Holliday. If she’d been involved with Trent, there was no telling what she might want. But with the Barrett family, it usually boiled down to one thing. Money.

“Tell me, Miss Holliday, do you usually enter other people’s houses at night like this?”

A blush stole over her cheeks and Jack noticed that even though her face was bare of makeup, it was still rich with color. Delicate black brows and thick lashes, pale green eyes and skin that was tanned to a deep rose-brown. The image of a Tahitian goddess, he decided. Sensual, earthy, and naturally beautiful. Just the kind that ruined a man’s common sense.

“No,” she answered. “But the door was open and I thought—”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a sneering sort of smile. “And you thought Trent was here.”

She nodded and he could see disappointment all over her face. What did it mean? he wondered.

“Do you live here in Biloxi?” he asked.

She nodded again. “In the house next door. That’s how I met Trent. He was staying here earlier this year.”

Jack racked his brain again. Trent had finished college at midterm break back in December. He tried to remember if he’d told Trent he could use the beachside bungalow after that time. Not that it would have mattered if his nephew had used the house without his consent. Jack had never seen the place until today.

Two years ago he’d bought the piece of real estate on a whim. An employee with the firm had needed quick cash and Jack had written him a check without much thought to what he’d do with a beach house in Mississippi.

Two years was a hell of a long time to finally get curious about a place.

The words his secretary had spoken to him yesterday suddenly popped into Jack’s mind, putting an even deeper twist on his lips. He’d started to tell Irene that nothing could rouse his curiosity anymore. He’d done and seen too much. But he was glad he hadn’t. Because Grace Holliday would have made him out to be liar. She was doing more than rousing his interest.

“Uh…how long has it been since you’ve seen this—Trent?”

She grimaced as she considered whether to tell this man anything. “I—look, I don’t know you. Maybe I should just apologize for the intrusion and be on my way.”

Folding his arms across his chest, he eyed her suspiciously. “You’ve already said you were sorry once. That’s enough. But if you weren’t a pregnant woman, I would think you’d walked in here to steal something.”

Her green eyes widened with disbelief, then filled with insult. “I’m sure because I am a pregnant woman you’re thinking all sorts of things anyway.”

He was. But not the sort of things she believed he was thinking. And suddenly Jack decided he couldn’t let her know he was Trent’s uncle. At least, not for now. If he expected to find out who she really was and if her baby had any connection to his nephew, he was going to have to be very guarded about himself.

His gaze dropped to her left hand. There was no engagement ring or wedding band of any sort and she hadn’t corrected him when he’d addressed her as Miss.

“You’re not married to this Trent guy?”

She shook her head as a puzzled frown creased her face. “Why would you want to know?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “No reason, actually. But the way you were calling his name—you sounded pretty desperate to see him.”

Grace had been desperate to see Trent. Five months had passed since he’d left her and the baby behind. And during that time she’d mostly accepted the fact that he didn’t want her in his life. Especially on a long-term basis. But she’d hoped—prayed—that he would return for the baby’s sake.

“Yes,” she quietly admitted.

When she didn’t elaborate he asked, “Are you…planning on marrying this guy?”

A sad little smile curved her full lips. The expression bothered Jack more than he cared to acknowledge.

“No.”

His brows lifted ever so slightly. “Is he…the father of your baby?”

A shadow crossed over her face, closing it off to Jack.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “But I—have to get home now. Goodbye, Jack Barrett.”

For a moment, as she stepped past him, he considered latching onto her arm and stopping her. But he didn’t. She obviously didn’t want to talk to him. And he was in no position to press her without making himself appear suspicious.

When he heard the screen door softly bang behind her, Jack walked to the front of the bungalow and peered through the front screen.

Grace Holliday was crossing the small lawn in the direction of the house next door. Her head was down, her steps slow. No doubt she dreaded going home to face her parents with the news that it hadn’t been Trent she’d found next door, but an older, wiser and much more hardened man.

Hell, he very much doubted Trent was the father of her child anyway. If his nephew had stayed in the bungalow earlier this year, he’d no doubt brought friends along with him. If there was one thing Jack did know, Trent had always had plenty of buddies hanging around him. She could have gotten tangled up with one of Trent’s friends and was now looking for him to help her in some way.

One way or the other, Jack was going to find out. If for no other reason than his sister’s sake. Jillian was ten years older than Jack and had been divorced almost as many years as Trent had been living. The boy’s father had skipped out not long after the kid had been born, leaving Jillian to raise her son alone. The last thing his sister needed was for some money-hungry young woman to slap a lawsuit on her son.

By the time Grace entered the house and sank onto the side of the old four-poster, she was visibly trembling.

Clamping her hands together, she closed her eyes and willed the image of Jack Barrett away. She didn’t know who he was or why he was in Trent’s house. Yet one thing had been clearly certain, he hadn’t taken kindly to her little visit.

Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked hard, determined to keep them at bay. It was far too late for tears or disappointment, she fiercely told herself.

Still, when she’d first seen the light in the bungalow her heart had soared. She’d been certain Trent had come back. Not for her. No, any hope she’d had for the two of them had died months ago when she’d first told him about the baby. The news had forced him into admitting he’d never really loved her. And had never intended to have a lifelong relationship with her. He’d simply come to Biloxi for a bit of fun and to wind down from final exams at Texas University in Austin.

After the initial shock and pain of being used had worn off, Grace had accepted the fact that she’d been a fool. And slowly the feelings she’d had for Trent had died. But since then she’d kept hoping, praying, he would return for the baby’s sake. She wanted her child to have a father. She wanted her son or daughter to know it was loved by both parents. And tonight, for a brief moment as she’d raced to the bungalow, she’d thought her hopes had come true.

Instead she’d discovered a man quite unlike any she’d ever encountered. Sensuality had oozed from every pore of his body. Just looking at him had made her quiver with an awareness she’d never before felt.

She’d not allowed herself the time to ask if he’d had a family or if he were planning to stay for a while. Getting away from his prying gray eyes had been of the utmost urgency in Grace’s mind. Yet even now, in the safety of her bedroom, she could still feel his gaze on her face and body.

He was not the sort of neighbor she would have chosen to have move in beside her. A big family with lots of happy, rowdy kids would have been more to her liking than Jack Barrett. From the look on his brooding face, she’d gotten the impression he’d wanted to either clamp his fingers around her neck or kiss her.

Shivering at the thought, she reached over and switched off the lamp at the head of the bed, then slowly undressed in the darkness. She had to forget about the man. Tomorrow was going to be another long, tiring day. She had to be rested and ready.

The next morning Jack’s secretary, Irene, answered his call on the fourth ring.

“What in hell are you doing?” he barked into the receiver. “Eating bonbons?”

“No, trying to seduce one of your clients. But he hightailed it out of here after the third ring. You have rotten timing, Jack. Besides, what are you doing calling the office? The doctor wanted you out of this place for a while, remember?”

Heaving a weary sigh, Jack tilted his head back far enough so that he could get a view of the house next door. Early this morning, before he’d cooked himself breakfast, he’d watched Grace carry an armload of books and a straw tote bag out to the car parked in the driveway. Her black hair had been down on her shoulders and the sea wind had whipped strands of it across her face and tugged at the tail of her long flowered skirt as she’d lowered herself into the little compact car.

Moments later she’d driven off in the direction of Gulfport, and so far she hadn’t returned. Nor had anyone else stirred around the big old house.

“I’m not in the office, Irene. I’m merely talking to you.”

“I don’t know why. You said you didn’t give a damn if you ever saw this place again,” Irene reminded him. “You said you never wanted to hear another phone, alarm clock, radio or TV. And you especially didn’t want to hear a judge’s rulings, a witness’s testimony or a client whining for a larger settlement.”

“That’s true,” he said curtly. “And I meant every word.”

He set his empty coffee cup on a low table in front of the couch, while Irene made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh.

“So you’re quitting Barrett, Winslow and Layton?”

Was he? Jack asked himself. In his eyes, quitting was akin to losing. And Jack had never lost a case in the courtroom. He didn’t know how to lose. But the job was getting more and more meaningless. And so stressful that two days ago he’d wound up in his doctor’s office with a stomach full of fire and blood pressure high enough to kill him.

For thirty minutes he’d listened to the doctor lecture him about burying himself in his work and not taking time out for life outside his law practice. Hell, Jack didn’t have a life outside the office and he’d told the doctor so.

“Then you’d better get yourself one before you wake up with no life at all,” he’d told Jack.

“You haven’t answered, Jack. Are you quitting the firm?” Irene repeated her question.

“That would make Dad especially proud,” he said mockingly.

“John Barrett is dead, Jack,” she said bluntly. “There’s no reason for you to keep trying to please the man now.”

John Barrett. For years just the mention of the name had been enough to make corporations shake in their boots. No business large or small wanted to face the formidable lawyer in the courtroom.

From the time Jack had been a small boy he’d been groomed to follow in his father’s footsteps. Generations of Barretts before him had built the firm of Barrett, Winslow and Layton. Jack was expected to keep it going. Nothing else would have been acceptable in the eyes of his father.

“I didn’t call to get into a psychological discussion with you this morning, Irene. I need a little information and I was wondering if you’d seen or talked to Jillian lately.”

After a pause Irene said, “I don’t remember exactly when I last spoke with your sister. A couple of weeks ago, I think. She stopped by the office to see you. But you were in court that day.”

“What did she want to see me about?”

“Hmm. Nothing special that I recall. I think she just happened to be out shopping and dropped by on a whim. Why?”

“Did she mention Trent?”

“I asked her about him,” Irene explained. “She said he was doing fine. Especially now that he’d started at his new job.”

“What about a girlfriend? Did she mention one of those?”

Irene laughed. “Well, Trent has gone through a list of girlfriends. Sort of like his uncle, you know.”

Letting his secretary’s snide comment slide, he said, “I’m talking about a special one.”

“Trent thinks each one is special. Until he gets tired of them.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion on my nephew’s behavior, Irene. Just the facts.”

That he was treating the conversation as lawyer to a witness didn’t bother Irene. After fifteen years of being his secretary she was used to his brusque, plain-spoken manner.

“Sorry, I got carried away for a moment. Must have been all that sugar from the bonbons,” she replied. “But as for a name, I do recall Jillian mentioning some girl he’d been seeing steadily. I believe it was something like Tessa or Tricia.”

Not a Grace. Jack didn’t know how he felt about this bit of news.

“You’re sure?”

“Not a hundred percent. But I do remember it was a T name. Does that help?”

“A little.”

“Now, are you going to tell me what this is all about?”

“No.”

“Oh, well, why should that surprise me,” she said with mock hurt. “I’m just the old faithful secretary that puts in sixty hours a week for you. I don’t deserve an explanation.”