He’d convinced himself that it was quite proper to buy something for his soon-to-be sister-in-law, even though doing the proper thing had never mattered to him before. But in a way, he hoped the gift would ease some of the pain he’d seen in her glorious green eyes the day she’d stormed out of his life. Women liked presents, or so he had reasoned as he’d handed over his credit card without flinching at the price. Expensive trinkets could soothe hurt feelings.

Mary Beth mingled with the other guests after a while but she kept a safe distance from Parr and his assistant. If that’s what Gail actually was. She had her doubts.

Seeing him again wasn’t easy. She had spent three weeks trying to forget him, not wanting to think of him, praying that she would never see him again. The anger he’d provoked spurred her to try even harder to make things right with Bobby Joe.

She had even tried, unsuccessfully, to seduce her fiancé. It had been a total disaster. She simply didn’t respond to the younger Weston the way she did to the older. Humiliated, in retreat, she was ashamed to admit even to herself that her dreams had been filled with erotic images of Parr. Big. Dark. Uncompromisingly male. How could an intelligent woman, in her right mind, fantasize about a philandering, disloyal heartbreaker?

Who couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her at the moment, even though his mother was bustling around him. He still hadn’t sat down and neither had the woman with him.

“Let me make you each a plate,” Alma offered. “We’ve already eaten, but there’s plenty of food.”

“Don’t worry, Mother. Relax.” Parr insisted that Alma sit down. “We’ll get a bite to eat later before we head out.”

“How long will you be here? And why didn’t you call?” Alma plopped back down beside her niece as Eve scooted over to make room again.

“We flew down to Muscle Shoals on business. I put in a bid to build a small office complex.”

“Isn’t that nice.” Alma beamed at him.

“Anyway, we decided to drive back so we could stop by and see you, and stay overnight. I’ve got a dinner appointment tomorrow back in Memphis.”

Parr tried not to look at Mary Beth, who was now sitting on his brother’s lap, but he couldn’t resist, his black eyes glancing her way just in time to catch her staring straight at him. His heartbeat accelerated and he suddenly felt too warm.

“Who’s that with you, Parr?” The pert question came from a plump bundle in a polka-dot dress sitting cross-legged on the floor. Carrie Ross, four years old and as blond as her mother, Eve, scratched her nose with the pointy foot of the skinny fashion doll in her hand.