Family Merger Read online

  “I run a shelter for young women, not a dating service for their fathers.”

  “My father dates all the time. I’m talking about someone who’ll marry him. It shouldn’t be hard to find somebody. He’s good-looking and rich. Don’t you know some nice women who would like him well enough to go out with him?” Cynthia asked.

  Kathryn didn’t want to tell Cynthia how easy it would be for a woman to like her father very much. Neither did Cynthia need to know Kathryn found her father so attractive she temporarily forgot that though they seemed to have a lot in common, they disagreed on most fundamental matters.

  “Your father will remarry when he’s ready.”

  “He needs somebody who’ll take care of him, somebody who’s not interested in his becoming the most famous businessman in the world. He needs someone like you.”

  Dear Reader,

  Love is in the air, but the days will certainly be sweeter if you snuggle up with this month’s Special Edition offerings—and a box of decadent chocolates. First up, award-winning author and this year’s President of Romance Writers of America®, Shirley Hailstock is a fresh new voice for Special Edition, but fans already know what a gifted storyteller she is. With numerous novels and novellas under her belt, Shirley debuts in Special Edition with A Father’s Fortune, which tells the story of a day-care-center owner and her foster child who teach a grumpy carpenter how to face his past and open his heart to love.

  Lindsay McKenna packs a punch in Her Healing Touch, a fast-paced read from beginning to end. The next in her widely acclaimed MORGAN’S MERCENARIES: DESTINY’S WOMEN series, this romance details the trials of a beautiful paramedic who teaches a handsome Special Forces officer the ways of her legendary healing. USA TODAY bestselling author Susan Mallery completely wins us over in Completely Smitten, next up in her beloved series HOMETOWN HEARTBREAKERS. Here, an adventurous preacher’s daughter seeks out a new life, but never expects to find a new love with a sexy U.S. marshal.

  The fourth installment in Crystal Green’s KANE’S CROSSING miniseries, There Goes the Bride oozes excitement when a runaway bride is spirited out of town by a reclusive pilot she once loved in high school. Patricia McLinn delights her readers with Wedding of the Century. Here, a heroine returns to her hometown seven years after running out of her wedding. When she faces her jilted groom, she realizes their feelings are stronger than ever! Finally, in Leigh Greenwood’s Family Merger, sparks fly when a workaholic businessman meets a good-hearted social worker, who teaches him the meaning of love.

  Don’t miss this array of novels that deliver an emotional charge and satisfying finish you’re sure to savor, no matter what the season!

  Happy Valentine’s Day!

  Karen Taylor Richman

  Senior Editor

  LEIGH GREENWOOD

  Family Merger

  Books by Leigh Greenwood

  Silhouette Special Edition

  Just What the Doctor Ordered #1223

  Married by High Noon #1295

  Undercover Honeymoon #1452

  Family Merger #1524

  LEIGH GREENWOOD

  has authored twenty historical romances and debuted in Silhouette Special Edition with Just What the Doctor Ordered. The proud parent of three grown children, Leigh lives in Charlotte, North Carolina. You can write to Leigh Greenwood at P.O. Box 470761, Charlotte, NC 28226. An SASE would be appreciated.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Kathryn Roper suddenly found herself face-to-face with one very handsome, very angry man. Tall, neatly groomed and impeccably dressed in a custom-made suit, he looked too young to be so conservatively dressed. The gray pinstripe was something her father would wear. This man ought to be wearing a cream-colored Polo shirt and tan slacks. He had the body of an athlete, though she didn’t know any athletes who had such good taste in clothes and such bad taste in visiting hours.

  “Don’t stand there staring at me,” he snapped. “I’ve flown halfway around the world to get here. I want to see Miss Roper.”

  If she’d had any doubts this man was Ron Egan, she didn’t have them any longer. He had the imperious attitude of a man who thought nothing was important but himself.

  “I’m Kathryn Roper,” she said, “and I don’t allow visitors after nine-thirty. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

  His angry gaze narrowed its focus, bore into her like a laser. “You’re too young and pretty to have turned into a battle-ax.”

  Kathryn couldn’t stop a spurt of laughter. “Who says a battle-ax has to be old and ugly?”

  He appeared to be weighing her up, calculating his approach. He was just like many upper echelon types she’d run across, ready to shout at people they thought unimportant but immediately taking a different tack when they encountered someone they considered on their level.

  Yet she was having a very different reaction to him than what would have been usual for her—one of a purely physical nature, one that caught her off guard. She felt attracted to this man. She had never denied the possibility of instant chemistry between two people, but this was the first time it had happened to her.

  What a tragedy his outside should be so beautiful when his inside was rotten. But that’s the way it seemed to go with her and men.

  In a way, she was just as impressionable as the girls who came to her for help. All too often they had been seduced by a man’s appearance. Only she was older, more experienced and had her physical desires firmly under control. She might have a gut-clenching reaction to Ron Egan, but he’d never know it.

  “I want to see my daughter. Where is she?”

  “She’s in bed, as are all the girls in this house. You can see her in the morning.”

  “I’ve come all the way from Geneva. I got on the next flight out after your phone call and spent the last eight hours on a plane. I’m six time zones away from where I started, and I’m tired. It won’t hurt her to miss thirty minutes of sleep.”

  “It’s not the sleep I’m concerned about so much as that your visit will upset her. It’s extremely important that she remain calm. She’s going through a stressful experience.”

  They still stood there in the entrance hall, facing each other like gladiators, each trying to decide how to manipulate this conversation to their own advantage. At least that’s how Ron read it.

  “She’s a minor,” Ron said. “I can force you to give her up.”

  “It’s not a matter of my giving her up. She came here of her own free will. She wants to stay. If you care for her, you’ll let her stay.”

  Ron didn’t know quite how to respond. From the moment he’d received a call from a stranger telling him his daughter was pregnant and had run away from home, he hadn’t known what to think. He hadn’t expected to find his daughter housed in an elegant old mansion in the heart of the oldest and most fashionable neighborhood in Charlotte. Kathryn Roper wasn’t at all what he’d expected, either.

  His first impulse was to shout at this woman for having the effrontery to imply he didn’t care for his daughter. Who was she to make such a judgment? She didn’t know anything about him. Cynthia had every right to be upset, but he was sure if he could talk to her, they could straighten things out.

  Still, there was something about this woman that caused him to look at her again, to reevaluate. He was used to women being visibly affected by his app
earance. She didn’t show any reaction whatsoever. She didn’t appear the least bit intimidated by him, by his size, his reputation or his gender. She looked quite young and slender, even fragile, but she acted as if she thought she was as tough as any man.

  “I can have you arrested for kidnapping.”

  “But you won’t.”

  “Why? It’s not because I’m too honorable.”

  “I imagine you know enough dirty tricks to fill a book, but you wouldn’t want any of this splashed over the front page of The Charlotte Observer.”

  “I don’t give a damn about that paper.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “What you believe isn’t important. Since it’s my daughter we’re talking about, it’s what I believe that’s important. And if you don’t know that, I’ll get a judge to explain it to you.”

  “Who are you planning to ask—Frank Emery? He’s my godfather. Emily Anders is a friend of my mother. I think my brothers have worked with every other judge in Charlotte.”

  “Are you telling me the judges can be bought?”

  Much to his surprise, she flushed. “No, and it was quite wrong of me to imply they could be. Come into the living room. We’d better sit down.”

  “I don’t want to talk, and I don’t want to sit down.”

  “If you hope to convince me you flew halfway around the world because you care what happens to your daughter, you’ll sit down.”

  “Why should I care what you think?”

  “Because Cynthia does.”

  He didn’t want to believe her, but there was no other reason he could think of for Cynthia’s presence in this house. He still had every intention of taking her home, but maybe it would be better to hear what this woman had to say. After his wife died, he’d had an increasingly difficult time communicating with his daughter. He didn’t understand how the lovable, biddable little girl who used to climb onto his lap to read had turned into the silent, sulking, angry teenager who sometimes refused to eat breakfast with him and often made excuses to miss dinner as well. Maybe he should have taken some time off before now, but he had to have this one last deal to put his company into a position where its success didn’t depend solely on him.

  He intended to hire the best therapists he could find, but if Kathryn could help, he’d be foolish not to listen to her. Cynthia had chosen to come here, and she always had a reason for anything she did.

  “I’d like something to drink,” he said.

  “I don’t serve liquor to guests.”

  “I don’t drink liquor. Ice water would be fine.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Ron watched her leave, the sight of her backside causing a surprising reaction in his groin. He hadn’t felt like that in years, certainly not with a woman who seemed ready to oppose him in every way she could. Yet Kathryn wasn’t like any of the women who faced him across a board table or the functionaries who kept his various offices running smoothly.

  He had worked with single-minded determination from the time he was ten to get where he was today. He’d sacrificed leisure, friends, nearly everything most men would consider the rewards of success so Cynthia would have all the advantages.

  It was clear Kathryn Roper looked down on him. That was all the more reason to be angry he was attracted to her. Hell, it was nearly impossible to be angry with a woman when you found yourself wondering what it would be like to get closer to her. How was he supposed to concentrate on her shortcomings when her body distracted him?

  Just then Kathryn returned with a glass of ice water. Her front looked just as good as the back. It was a good thing she couldn’t read his thoughts. She’d probably throw the water in his face.

  “Now let’s talk about your daughter,” she said after she’d handed him the water and allowed him time to take a few sips.

  “Tell me what you do,” Ron said. “I still can’t figure out why Cynthia would come to you.”

  She looked as if she took that as a personal insult, but surely she had to know a father couldn’t just take for granted she was qualified to be responsible for his daughter.

  “I maintain this house as a shelter for unwed young girls who become pregnant.”

  “How much money do you owe on it?”

  “My aunt left it to me.”

  “I don’t imagine your neighbors are thrilled with what you’re doing.” People don’t pay upwards to a million dollars for a big house to find themselves next door to a halfway house for pregnant teens.

  “Not everybody likes what I’m doing, but I’m a good neighbor. The girls are quiet and well behaved. I don’t allow visits from boys unless I’m present and then only brothers or the fathers of their babies.”

  “How many girls do you have here?”

  “I have room for ten, but I only have four now.”

  “Who looks after them when you go to work?”

  “This is my work.”

  “You mean you have a trust fund that allows you to do nothing.”

  “I have an income that allows me to provide a service to the community.”

  Just what he thought. A rich woman with nothing to do, who excused her meddling by thinking she was providing a social service these girls couldn’t find elsewhere.

  “How do they know about you? Do you advertise?”

  He’d angered her. She sat with her clenched hands in her lap, her back ramrod straight, her knees together.

  “They learn of me through their friends or from girls who have been here. When they come to me, I urge them to go to their parents immediately. I tell them all the reasons that would be preferable to staying here. I’m proud to say most of them do go home. Two have come back afterward, but most found their parents were more supportive than they expected. Mostly the girls fear their parents will hate them for what they’ve done.”

  “Don’t think you’re going to convince me Cynthia thinks I’ll hate her. We don’t always agree, but she—”

  “Cynthia believes your work comes before her.”

  “It keeps me away from home a lot, but nothing is more important to me than Cynthia. Why do you think I hired so many people to take care of her?”

  “I imagine what she wanted and needed was you, your time and attention, your assurance that she was more important than your work.”

  “She knows that.”

  “She told me she came here because she doesn’t want her having a baby to get in your way.”

  That was such a ridiculous statement he could hardly believe his daughter made it. He wasn’t even sure what it meant. “Cynthia couldn’t possibly get in my way. I’ve hired four people to take care of her. If she wants anything, she only has to ask for it.”

  “She still doesn’t believe she’s as important to you as your next merger.”

  “Of course she is. If she wants, she can go to Switzerland with me as soon as school is out.” He realized with a terrible sense of guilt he hadn’t even considered that until the words came out of his mouth. If she had wanted to go vacationing with one of her friends, he’d have been happy to let her.

  “She wants to stay here. She doesn’t want to hurt you or the baby’s father.”

  “That’s something else I want to know. Where can I find the boy who did this?”

  “I have several rules. One is I never ask the name of the father. Another is even if I know it, I never reveal it.”

  “You’re a regular paragon of virtue, aren’t you?”

  She must have a difficult time with her shelter. He didn’t imagine many fathers would have been as calm as he had been so far, but he couldn’t work up the will to rant and rave at Kathryn. He intended to take Cynthia home, but he didn’t think Kathryn was an evil person. She was just a well-meaning busybody who couldn’t keep her nose out of other people’s business.

  “My only purpose is to help these girls. I want to give them a safe place to stay where they can continue their education, have their babies, then decide what to do with the rest of their
lives. I don’t provide a permanent solution, just a temporary refuge from all the pressure.”

  “All that sounds fine and noble, but what are you getting out of this?”

  “I beg your pardon!”

  “People don’t do things like this without a reason. You’re rich. I imagine your friends are building careers, going to parties and having children. There’s got to be some reason you’d give all that up to baby-sit pregnant teenagers. And there’s no point glaring at me. I don’t intimidate.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “Good, then answer my question. Why are you doing this?”

  “Because something like this happened to my sister,” she said after a pause. “I saw the damage it could do when it was handled badly.”

  She meant it happened to her, he thought. People always put traumatic events off on a relative, a friend, even a neighbor. They only reacted like Kathryn Roper when it really happened to them. She didn’t seem like the kind of woman to let her emotions get the better of her. But then who better to learn to control her emotions than someone who had failed to do so and paid the price?

  He looked at her, sitting so stiffly in the chair opposite him and felt some of his aggravation melt away. It couldn’t be easy. She must relive what happened to her every time a girl came to her for help. Most people would want to put it behind them, to forget, pretend it never happened, but she’d had the courage to turn her personal tragedy into a benefit to the community. He had to admire her for that. And it was a real community service.

  He wondered what had happened to her baby.

  What did Cynthia mean to do with her baby? For the first time it hit him that he was about to become a grandfather. He had just turned forty.

  “I want to see Cynthia.”

  “As I told you before, she’s in bed.”