Page 16 of Bride By Committee

He had a dangerously masculine appearance, the enticing features she’d examined with such innocent abandon having somehow rearranged themselves into tough-hewn planes and hard, uncompromising angles. There was power implicit in every line of his body, the sort of power that came from brilliance of mind and strength of form and an indomitable will. All the time she’d thought herself caged with a sweet lamb of a guy, she’d really been caught in a snare with the king of beasts.

She folded her arms across her chest and glared in outrage. How could he have possibly described himself as innocuous? The thick hair she’d had nerve enough to thread through her fingers was a rich golden-brown shot with streaks the exact same shade as a lion’s pelt. Even his eyes reminded her of a caged beast, ashade of hazel enhanced with shards ofjade.

“Well?” he demanded in an undertone. “Am I what you expected?”

Every feminine instinct she possessed urged her to flee the car. But since she’d always considered such instincts irrational, she foolishly held her ground. “You’re nothing like I imagined. Worse, you went out of your way to hide the truth from me. That wasn’t very nice of you. You’re supposed to be a Harry.”

“My name is Harry.”

“Well, it shouldn’t be. Harry’s a safe name. And you’re not the least safe. You should have been called something that warns people to beware. Like Hunter. Or Danger. Or Trouble. You also said you were an economist.”

He sighed. “I am an economist.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a lion. Shame on you. Idon’t appreciate your deception one little bit.”

He slowly rose, shaking off all remaining vestiges of being a safe, normal man and filling the small space with his presence. Madison fell back a step despite her determination to hold her ground.

How could she have missed him when she’d first stepped onto the elevator? It didn’t say much about her powers of observation. If it hadn’t been for that darned book— She pulled his suit jacket more tightly around herself and the scent of him filled her nostrils. Instead of feeling more threatened, it served to reassure. This odor belonged to the man who’d protected her, not the intimidating stranger standing before hernow.

“There’s something else you’re not going to appreciate,” he replied. “I tried to tell you earlier, but you fell asleep.”

“Another fact you neglected to mention?” As if pretending to be a lamb wasn’t bad enough. “It’s bad news, isn’t it?”

“For you, yes.”

“Harry! Madison!”

Harriet “Sunny” Sunflower pushed through the crowd and rushed to the door of the elevator, towing a large, handsome man behind. Not that he had much choice but to follow. Her hand was deep in the pocket of his suit jacket, which she held in a death grip, crumpling the expensive Italian silk. Based on the devoted smile tilting his mouth, he didn’t appear to mind. His smile warned that he’d indulge Sunny’s every whim. Considering how many whims Madison’s grandmother enjoyed, that was saying alot.

“I’m fine, Sunny,” Madison assured. She edged around Harry and escaped the elevator.

“Of course you are, dear. After all, you had Harry with you.”

It finally occurred to Madison that Sunny had used Harry’s name, too. She turned and eyed her companion of the last several hours, an unpleasant suspicion beginning to dawn. “You know Harry, Grandmother?”

“Oh, dear,” Sunny murmured. “You’re upset.”

“Grandmother—”

Sunny addressed the man she’d dragged along. “She only calls me Grandmother when she’s upset. Ican’t begin to guess what I’ve done this time. Iimagine I’m not supposed to recognize Harry. But since he’s your son, Idon’t know why I shouldn’t. Do you? Especially since we all met at the airport yesterday.”

Sunny and her companion appeared to be of a comparable age, both in their early sixties and each exuding a warm, charming vitality that Madison knew from years of observation won devoted friends with careless ease. It didn’t take much brain power to figure out who he was, Madison decided. Just as well considering her brain cells weren’t firing with their usual efficiency. No doubt this was the infamous Bartholomew Jones. Which would make Harry—

“I’m sure Madison will tell us what’s wrong if you give her a chance,” Bartholomew reassured Sunny.

“I assume you’re Mr. Jones?” Madison interrupted. “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced.”

“My fault, I’m afraid.” He offered his hand. “Please call me Bartholomew. And I see that you’ve already met my son. Sorry I missed out on lunch. The book signing ran longer than I’d anticipated. Harry did warn me we were going to be late. Isent him ahead to let you and Sunny know and offer my apologies.”

Madison forced herself to take the time to shake hands before turning on Harry. He’d escaped the elevator, too, and stood looming behind her. Apparently something about his presence had discouraged the curious onlookers milling about in the lobby. The crowd had dispersed, offering them a certain amount of privacy. Not that she’d allow Harry’s size to intimidate her the way it seemed to intimidate everyone else. Not a chance. She was on to his tricks.

“Why didn’t you tell me who you were?” she demanded. “And don’t try and say you didn’t connect me with Sunny. Iwon’t believe you.”

“I knew who you were from the start. That’s why I stayed on the elevator instead of getting off on your grandmother’s floor. Ithought you and I should speak privately.”

“So you lied.”

“I didn’t go out of my way to identify myself, no,” he admitted without apology. “You were nervous enough when we got stuck in the elevator without my making it worse.”

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