desserts.”

Darcy and Paula looked askance when the waiter placed a huge, creamy, decadent piece of cake in front of Willa.

“You’re going to eat that?” Darcy blurted, only to blush at her own rudeness.

“I sure am. Desserts did me a huge favor once. I owe them.”

“What kind of favor?” Paula asked.

“They helped get me a divorce.”

Sam, who had just taken a sip of coffee, nearly spit it out. Jesse and Ben set their cups down with a clank.

“Dessert got you a divorce?” Jesse asked.

Willa turned unreadable eyes on him. “I tried for more than a year to talk my husband into a simple, amicable divorce, but he refused to go down without a fight. Finally, though, I got him to give me one.”

“How?” Paula asked, leaning over her plate and looking intrigued, not noticing that her scarf was trailing in her food.

“I got fat.”

“Fat!”

“David was a rather superficial man,” Willa explained. “I got so fat he couldn’t stand to be seen in public with me. Bingo. Divorce.”

Paula blinked. Several times. “How fat were you?”

“What I am now.”

“The man divorced you because of what you weigh now?” Darcy asked, darting a frantic look at Jesse. Jesse was too busy staring at Willa to notice. Ben had picked up his coffee again, and Sam figured that was to hide his smile behind it; Sam, however, was purely amazed. The partridge had been married?

“Oh, no. I’ve gotten food on my scarf!” Paula cried. She stood up. “I have to go to the powder room.”

“I’ll go with you.” Darcy offered, standing up.

The men looked at Willa. She stayed sitting.

As soon as the women left, Willa set down her fork. “I wish to clear the air, gentlemen,” she said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “You do realize your grandfather sent me here hoping one of you would capture my matrimonial eye? And that I might…interest one of you?” Her smile widened. “He was looking for a miracle, I’d say.”

Sam snorted before he could stop himself.

“I explained to Abram that I never intend to walk down a church aisle again. All three of you could crawl toMaine on your knees, your hearts in your hands, and I wouldn’t marry any one of you.”

“I don’t remember any of us asking,” Sam snapped.

“As long as we understand each other,” she returned simply, picking up her fork and returning to her cake.

“Then why in hell are you here?” Jesse asked sharply.

“Because your grandfather asked me to do this favor for him,” Willa said with tired patience.

“But why, if Bram knew you didn’t want to get married?”

She stared at her half-eaten dessert. Finally, she looked around the table. “Abram claims I have an inherent sense of character. He hoped that I could meet you, get to know each of you a little bit, and objectively choose.”

“Then choose!” Jesse growled.

“Tomorrow!” Willa growled back, stabbing her cake and making one of the cherries shoot off her plate. It landed on Jesse’s white shirt.

Chapter Three

Darcy and Paula wantedto go dancing next.

Would the evening never end?

Willa could dance about as well as she could walk in heels. And her date must have realized exactly how she felt about it, because Sam’s eyes lit up when everyone agreed they would go to a favorite nightspot. Well, she’d simply have another drink and watch from the table. She wasn’t about to step into his arms naively, because Sam Sinclair downright disconcerted her. He made her palms sweat. He made her arm tingle whenever he took hold of her elbow. And she had a hard time breathing properly whenever he looked directly at her with those impaling ice-blue eyes of his. He was a good head taller than she was, although that didn’t exactly make him a giant. His shoulders did that. But it was his broad, masculine chest that really made her want to throw herself into his arms. That was why she wouldn’t dance with him. She was afraid she’d get wrapped up in his arms, against that chest, and start to drool. He also smelled much too good. She wasn’t about to get close to a well-built, handsome, broad-chested, nice-smelling man. It had simply been too long for her. Since her divorce five years ago, Willa had persuaded her hormones to hibernate, but the damn things had woken up when Sam took her elbow to escort her to the boardroom. Now they were practically jumping up and down in anticipation.

“Where’s your purse?” he asked when the car pulled to the curb to pick them up.

Willa looked him right in the eye. “On the floor in the restaurant.”

He heaved a mighty sigh and turned to go back in.

She grabbed his sleeve. “Leave it. It’s got three tissues and a comb in it.”

He looked at her, his blue eyes intent. Suddenly, he grinned and helped her into the car. Once again, Willa found herself sandwiched between Ben and Sam, across from Jesse, the two women on either side of him. And once again, the silence became awkward.

“What have you and Bram talked about these last six weeks?” Jesse asked.

“Everything,” she answered honestly. “About life. And death. About accepting both. He told me that he buried all three of his sons. And he says he misses Rose very much.”

“Our father was Bram’s middle son. His oldest son, Michael, died in a fire at the age of six. And Peter, his youngest, died at age twenty in a skiing accident,” Jesse explained. “Our father and mother died in a plane crash more than twenty years ago.”

“He told me Rose passed away five years ago.”

“Yes. Our home, Rosebriar, is named for her.”

“Bram also talked about you three. About how ‘damn proud’ he is of you,” Willa said with a sincere smile. “And about how stubborn you all are for not getting married,” she added, darting an apologetic smile at the two women across from her.

“We’ll marry in time,” Jesse said. “But on our terms—not Bram’s.”

“Abram told me he made the mistake of raising you all to be just like him.”

Jesse gave Willa a roguish grin. “That’s quite a compliment.”

“Not really. I think all of you, Abram included, should have been drowned at birth.”

Darcy and Paula gasped. Jesse’s grin broadened. Ben snorted. Sam’s shoulders shook, which shook her

.

“How long were you married?” Sam asked.

“Three long, long years,” she admitted with a sigh.

“And you’re sure it was your size that got you divorced?”

“I think, Mr. Sinclair, that ultimately it was the huge rottweiler David found in our bed.”

“You didn’t!” Jesse sputtered on a choked laugh.

“I was getting desperate. A friend owned a very sweet rottweiler who happened to dislike men. David

came home one night a little too late, a little too drunk, and a little too perfumey.” Willa smiled. “I think he still walks with a slight limp.”

Darcy and Paula looked incredulous, but both sides of Willa started shaking, until Ben and Sam couldn’t hold in their laughter any longer.

“A partridge.” Jesse snorted. “More like a falcon, Sam.”

Willa frowned. “What are you—”

The limo driver suddenly cursed as the car swerved hard to the right, throwing them off balance. More curses erupted from the men as it swerved again, and Willa was suddenly slammed up against a stone-hard chest. Bands of steel tightened around her as everyone was tossed like clothes in a washing machine, all three women screaming.

The wild ride stopped with unbelievable force, throwing Willa to the floor. A heavy weight landed on top of her. Though her head was protected by the large hand cupping it, her body felt as if a tank had just slammed into it. And she couldn’t breathe.

Old ghosts rose in Willa’s mind, filling her with terror. She shoved at Sam with all her might. “Out! We have to get out. It’s going to burn!” she cried, still shoving. “Everyone out!”

“Easy, Willamina. It’s okay. We’re not on fire,” Sam said close to her ear. Feet and arms and legs poked at her, as more cursing ensued. A back door opened.