“Work comes before pleasure.” About the Author Title Page Dedication CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE Copyright
“Work comes before pleasure.”
Nick continued, “And when a man runs his own business, that leaves very little time for anything else.”
“But there should be balance in a person’s life,” Laura said in a quiet voice.
“Balance. Isn’t that just a rewrite of the old saying—all work and no play makes Nick a dull boy? So, Laura Grant, you think I’m a dull boy?”
He was laughing at her!
“I don’t know you well enough to say, Mr. Diamond. You certainly don’t look dull.”
“But tell me, Miss Grant...do you have balance in your life?”
Grace Green was born in Scotland and is a former teacher. In 1967 she and her marine engineer husband, John, emigrated to Canada, where they raised their four children. Empty nesters now, they are happily settled in west Vancouver in a house overlooking the ocean. Grace enjoys walking the sea wall, gardening, getting together with other writers...and watching her characters come to life, because she knows that, once they do, they will take over and write her stories for her.
Grace Green has written for the Harlequin Presents series, but now concentrates on Harlequin Romance... bringing you deeply emotional stories with vibrant characters.
Secret Courtship
Grace Green
For Charles and Elizabeth Brennen
CHAPTER ONE
“THEIR decision, I’m afraid, is final.”
Nicholas Diamond scowled, and dragged a longfingered hand through the black curly hair that had once been the bane of his teenage years. Bad enough that this was a Monday morning, he decided irritably, without having to hear news that screwed up the plans for his next housing project.
He was standing with his back to a wall of windows in the Farr, Ricci, Gregg law offices, on the penthouse floor of Vancouver’s newest high-rise tower. The suite overlooked the yacht-studded waters of English Bay, and on this April forenoon a breeze created choppy waves, and made sails billow like laundered white sheets on a line.
Nick had no interest in the view. Eyes stormy, he glared at his lawyer who—from a swivel seat behind the office’s massive teak desk—had just imparted the news responsible for the sudden rise in Nick’s blood pressure.
“So—” Nick’s tone was grim “—the council has decided not to give the Juniper Ridge access road the goahead.”
“It’s a blow,” was the calm response, “but not, after all, a totally unexpected one. When you bought the forest acreage, with development in mind, an access road up the eastern slope of the ridge was only a rumor—and on the basis of that rumor you took a gamble—”
“A gamble, dammit, I was sure I’d win. But since I’ve lost, that leaves me only one other route into the area. The route through—”
“Charity Brown’s lot? Through Sweet Briar? Well, we could try again... But you do remember that when the estate lawyer finally located the relative who’d inherited the cottage, the young woman was adamant she wouldn’t sell.”
“She’ll sell...when the price is right. The girl’s not only selfish, she totally ignored her great-aunt even when the woman was on her deathbed—I’d lay odds she’s greedy too. She’ll put Sweet Briar on the market when she’s good and ready. She’ll sell on her terms ... and I doubt she’ll bother to come west to look at the property before she does.”
Nick rammed his hands frustratedly into his pockets, setting his Porsche keys ajingle. “At any rate, now that the council has made its decision, I can’t afford to sit around twiddling my thumbs. Get in touch with the estate lawyer again. Right away.” He started toward the door. “Tell him I want to buy.”
“How high do you want me to go?”
Nick paused. “As high as you have to.” His voice was harsh. “I need that land and I mean to have it. Without it, the Diamond Forest Project is dead.”
“There must be some mistake.” Laura Grant frowned as she stared through the cab window at the scene unfolding ahead. “I asked you to take me to Juniper Avenue.”
“This is it, miss.” The cabbie flicked on his turn signal and, slowing down, swung the taxi onto a wide paved road leading off to their right.
No, she thought bewilderedly, it can’t be...
But as they turned the corner she caught sight of the streetsign-Juniper Avenue—and knew the taxi driver hadn’t been mistaken after all. She struggled to control her feelings of shock and wrenching disappointment; she was finally here, where through the past few unhappy years she had yearned to be—but the place she’d dreamed about had changed beyond recognition.
“Stop!” Her voice trembled. “Please.”
The driver slammed the vehicle to a shuddering halt by the side of the road.
Laura leaned forward in her seat, letting her stunned gaze jerk in fits and starts over the colossal, sterilelooking houses squatting like hideous sightless monsters on the gentle slopes of Juniper Ridge.
“You want to walk the rest of the way, miss?”
Laura made a distracted gesture. “Just a sec.” The cab had stopped several yards ahead of a large notice; now she twisted round in her seat so she could read the scarlet lettering on the white-painted board:
Diamond Way—Greater Vancouver’s finest estate
Final phase starting soon
Dear Lord...
Laura put her hand to her throat in a vain attempt to ease the spasm of pain that had tightened it.
“Miss...?”
Brushing a hand across her eyes, she bent to gather up her backpack. “Yes.” Her voice was husky. “I’ll walk.”
The