I tell you, I had an awful time getting these two together. They fought me all the way, and then something happened that neither of them had counted on. This is their story. I hope you enjoy it.
You can tell me what you think by writing to me at [email protected]. I’m always thrilled to hear from my fans. I promise I’ll answer, and I thank you. Amy and George thank you, too.
Contents
Chapter One
“Absolutely not. It’s out of the question.” George Bentley, Jr., dabbed furiously at his mouth with his linen napkin and scowled across the spotless white tablecloth at his mother.
Framed by the tall window behind her, Bettina Bentley was a magnificent sight, as usual. Her blue feathered hat exactly matched the color of her elegant dress and jacket, her hair had been tinted a perfect shade of dark blond, and, with the help of clever makeup, she looked much younger than her fifty-six years.
Not that George appreciated the charming picture she made right then. He was too irritated.
“George.” His mother breathed his name, leaning forward until her bosom hovered perilously close to her hot fudge sundae. Her coated eyelashes flapped at him in feminine appeal. “I’m desperate. I promised Jessica you’d take care of things. Do be a darling. I assure you it will be fun.”
Fun? George almost snorted. He should never have accepted her invitation for dinner, even if Martoni’s was his favorite restaurant. He should have known she had something devious up her sleeve.
He glanced up at the sparkling chandeliers that hung from the ornate ceiling. Dining at Martoni’s was always a pleasant experience. The Italian-style furnishings and decor gave the whole room a festive atmosphere, with colorful floral arrangements and bright paintings of hot, sunlit streets hanging on the peach walls. Elegant—like his mother. Bettina revered elegance to the point of making it a religion.
Since the heart attack that had taken his father’s life, he’d done everything in his power to be there for his mother when she needed him, but sometimes her demands could border on outrageous.
He glared at her, more angry at himself than at her. “Mother, you must have a dozen friends who would be only too happy to show Amanda—”
“Her name is Amelia.”
“—Amelia the sights. After all, Portland isn’t exactly New York. It doesn’t take that long to find your way around.”
“I’m not asking you to show her the city. All cities are pretty much the same, after all. Oregon is such a beautiful state. I just know the girl would adore a trip to the mountains, the ocean, the gorge, the desert, the wineries.…” She paused to give him the smile she usually reserved for her charity targets. “You are terribly knowledgeable about wine, darling. I’m sure Amelia would be awfully grateful to learn from you. After all, one can never know enough about good wines, don’t you think?”
“Mother…” George laid his napkin down at the edge of his empty plate, “I do not have the time or the inclination to play travel guide to that little brat.”
Bettina’s perfectly tweezed brows rose a fraction. “How on earth can you say that? You don’t know anything about her. You can’t even remember her name, for heaven’s sake.”
“We practically grew up together. From what I remember, she took great pleasure in humiliating me.”
“Amelia liked to tease. It wasn’t her fault you had no sense of humor. Besides, that was fifteen years ago. Amelia was just a child then. She’s all grown up now.”
“In that case, she doesn’t need someone to show her around. She’s old enough to take care of herself. I have far better things to do with my time.”
The stubborn look he dreaded appeared in Bettina’s blue eyes. “Doing what? All I can say, George, is that your father would be most disappointed in you. He would have jumped at the chance to help Ben Richard’s daughter.”
George could never understand how a woman as tiny as his mother could have such a formidable will. His father had been a giant of a man, towering over his wife, yet had seemed totally incapable of opposing her. No wonder his son was having so much trouble filling his shoes. Afraid he might weaken, he strengthened his resolve. “I’m far too busy right now. My work—”
“You spend far too much time in the office.” Bettina wagged a finger at him. “When you’re not there you’re cooped up with no one but a cat to keep you company in that dreadful apartment, doing God knows what—”
He straightened. “The apartments at River Park West happen to be some of the nicest in town.”
“—when you should be out enjoying yourself with a nice young lady. All you care about is that job and that ridiculous car of yours.”
George took time out to swallow the last of his chardonnay. Even so, he couldn’t quite contain his resentment when he said stiffly, “My Lexus happens to be an excellent car, my job pays my rent and I have all the social activities I can handle.”
Bettina uttered a short bark of derision. “Two nights a week at a fitness club? An occasional night at the theater? You call that a social life? You happen to be a very handsome man, George, if I say so myself. There are at least three women in this room right now who can’t keep their eyes off you. You have the looks, the money and the time, so why don’t you
