After graduating at the top of her class from the University of North Carolina, the lovely Miss Collins had returned home to Asheville and joined her father at the family firm of Collins and Collins. Without a doubt, the pretty lady’s pedigree was every bit as impressive as the silly dog she was so upset about. Nick pored over the rest of her vital statistics, which included everything from her age to the fact that she was currently dating the assistant district attorney.
He kept telling himself that he was only interested in the information because the legal barracuda might possibly hit him with the ridiculous lawsuit she was threatening. And despite the hassle it would cause him, Nick wished the lovely lady would make that silly mistake. After all, his syndicated radio program did have the ears of thousands of listeners who thrived on controversy. Taking her down a peg or two over the air would be fairly simple. Unless, of course, those long tanned legs of hers kept turning up in his memory to interfere with his usual killer instincts.
She was definitely attractive. No, when he thought about it, she was downright beautiful. But she was also the epitome of everything Nick didn’t want in a woman. He would never settle down with some hoity-toity socialite, any more than he would marry some career-driven female who would probably refuse to share his last name.
And especially not a woman who had chosen law as her profession.
His own mother’s obsession with her career had been responsible for making Nick gun-shy where career-oriented women were concerned. Her preference for a career over being a wife and mother had resulted in a nasty divorce between his parents when Nick was only ten. He’d been bounced back and forth between his parents until he turned sixteen and put an end to the madness himself. It was the endless steam of court battles that had fueled Nick’s hatred for the legal profession. Even the superb strawberry-blonde who was threatening to sue him now didn’t change Nick’s opinion that greed, more often than justice, was the main reason most people embraced the law as their chosen profession.
Letting out a loud groan when Earl sailed through the air and landed in the middle of his stomach, Nick wrestled the squeaky toy away from his playful partner, then tossed it to the far end of the room. After pulling himself up from the sofa, he strolled through the patio doors, then slumped into one of the deck chairs scattered around the pool.
“If you end up being a daddy, Earl, we’ll have one hell of a fight on our hands,” Nick told his faithful companion when Earl returned with his squeaky toy and nuzzled against Nick’s hand.
But even as Nick sat in the afternoon sun planning his defense strategy, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his perceptive sixth sense was somehow alerting him to danger. Could matching wits with the leggy lawyer be menacing enough to trip his intuitive powers?
Possibly.
And in more ways than he cared to admit.
3
TO CASSIE’S HORROR, the scheduled rendezvous with the expensive English prince from London was a total calamity. Not only would Duchess not let the courtly stud get near her, she also bit the yapping powder puff squarely on his royal nose, prompting his snooty owner to threaten a lawsuit of his own. Thankfully, when Cassie upped the already preposterous stud fee, which had to be paid whether the dogs mated or not, she’d managed to calm the man’s ruffled feathers.
Now the only hurdle that remained was the ultrasound Dee was going to perform to see if Earl had been successful in making Duchess a mommy.
Forcing thoughts of fleeing to South America from her mind, Cassie reluctantly handed her keys to the valet parking attendant at Asheville’s impressive Grove Park Inn. The last thing she’d wanted to do that evening was attend the annual fund-raiser for the local historical society. Especially since Mark Winston would be there in all his glory with his new lady on his arm.
Cassie’s pride, however, wouldn’t allow her to stay at home. She knew the rumors would be bad enough if she made an appearance. But if she stayed away, she figured she would forever be dubbed as “the idiot who let Mark Winston get away.”
Crossing the lobby, Cassie took a deep breath before stepping into the large ballroom that was housing the charitable event. As luck would have it, the first person she saw was Evelyn Van Arbor, Asheville’s biggest gossip.
Hurrying to the cocktail bar on the far side of the room, Cassie purposely ignored the old snoop, and thought she’d been successful until the woman’s shrill voice rang out behind her.
“Cassandra, darling. Wait up.”
Steeling herself, Cassie turned to face the blue-haired piranha, knowing Evelyn would feast on her every word. After the old woman kissed the air on both sides of Cassie’s face, Cassie said, “You look glamorous as usual, Evelyn.”
“And so do you, dear,” Evelyn gushed, then added, “I can’t tell you how delighted I am that you decided to come, Cassandra. I was afraid you’d let this horrible misfortune with Mark Winston turn you into a bitter recluse.”
It took all of her composure, but Cassie managed a smile. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Evelyn.”
The woman patted Cassie’s shoulder sympathetically. “You don’t have to act so brave with me, you poor little thing. Mark’s an idiot. And you’re so much prettier than that flighty Dianna Nugent.”
Cassie’s smile was now so forced it threatened to make huge cracks in both sides of her face. “I know there’s been a lot of speculation about me and Mark the last few months, Evelyn, but we’ve never been anything more than good friends. I assure you, I couldn’t be happier for both of them.”
“Oh, you’re much too gracious for your own good,” Evelyn complained as she nodded toward Mark and Dianna, who were twirling around the dance floor. “Besides,” she whispered, leaning close enough to make Cassie nauseous from her overpowering perfume, “Dianna’s father might be a doctor, but he isn’t a good doctor, judging from the malpractice suits that have been filed against him. Mark would have been better off staying with you, where he belonged. At least your father and your grandfather share his interests in politics.”
Cassie started to comment, but froze when a pair of black eyes she hadn’t counted on seeing at the fund-raiser locked with her own. As if her evening hadn’t started out badly enough, she now found Nick Hardin standing at the opposite end of the bar.
Her heart skipped a beat when he sent her a cordial nod, then graciously lifted his glass in her direction, offering a toast. God, please don’t let him come over here, she prayed silently, then quickly dismissed him by turning her back.
Aware that her hands were shaking when she accepted a glass of champagne from the attentive bartender, Cassie swallowed most of the expensive liquid in one easy gulp, then reluctantly turned her attention back to the lesser of two evils. “I’m sorry, Evelyn. What was your question again?”
“I asked what part of Europe your parents were touring now?”
Before Cassie could answer, the old woman leaned forward and grabbed her arm. “Don’t look now, but that horrible Nick Hardin is headed our way. I can’t believe he had the nerve to show up here, can you? Especially after that episode at the country club. Why, the very nerve of him riding his filthy motorcycle up on the country club lawn and parking—”
“Good evening, ladies,” Nick interrupted, silencing Evelyn Van Arbor’s rant.
Cassie took a deep breath, reluctantly turning around to face Nick. Immediately, she felt her knees buckle. Dressed in a snazzy designer tux with