But Not for Me Read online

  All that love stuff people carried on about might be okay for others—but not for me,

  Brad decided. He opened his bedroom door and abruptly halted. Rachel stood there, ready to knock.

  “Uh, look, Rachel, I know I was way out of line earlier, and I apologize. I—”

  She placed her fingers lightly across his lips. “I just came to tell you that if your offer is still open, I believe our getting married would solve a lot of problems.”

  Why hadn’t she just taken a bat and hit him over the head? She couldn’t have stunned him more.

  “You want to marry me?”

  Her smile was as sweet as an angel’s. “I believe I do, Mr. Phillips. I believe I do.”

  Dear Reader,

  June is busting out all over with this month’s exciting lineup!

  First up is Annette Broadrick’s But Not For Me. We asked Annette what kinds of stories she loved, and she admitted that a heroine in love with her boss has always been one of her favorites. In this romance, a reserved administrative assistant falls for her sexy boss, but leaves her position when she receives threatening letters. Well, this boss has another way to keep his beautiful assistant by his side—marry her right away!

  Royal Protocol by Christine Flynn is the next installment of the CROWN AND GLORY series. Here, a lovely lady-in-waiting teaches an admiral a thing or two about chemistry. Together, they try to rescue royalty, but end up rescuing each other. And you can never get enough of Susan Mallery’s DESERT ROGUES series. In The Prince & the Pregnant Princess, a headstrong woman finds out she’s pregnant with a seductive sheik’s child. How long will it take before she succumbs to his charms and his promise of happily ever after?

  In The Last Wilder, the fiery conclusion of Janis Reams Hudson’s WILDERS OF WYATT COUNTY, a willful heroine on a secret quest winds up in a small town and locks horns with the handsome local sheriff. Cheryl St. John’s Nick All Night tells the story of a down-on-her-luck woman who returns home and gets a second chance at love with her very distracting next-door neighbor. In Elizabeth Harbison’s Drive Me Wild, a schoolbus-driving mom struggles to make ends meet, but finds happiness with a former flame who just happens to be her employer!

  It’s time to enjoy those lazy days of summer. So, grab a seat by the pool and don’t forget to bring your stack of emotional tales of love, life and family from Silhouette Special Edition!

  Sincerely,

  Karen Taylor Richman

  Senior Editor

  Annette Broadrick

  BUT NOT FOR ME

  To Patricia,

  Who popped back into my life when I needed you the most.

  You must be my fairy godmother!

  Thank you for believing that I could write again. Your faith in me has helped me regain my faith in myself. Here’s to the next twenty years together. Long may your magic wand wave.

  Books by Annette Broadrick

  Silhouette Special Edition

  Mystery Wife #877

  The President’s Daughter #1226

  But Not For Me #1472

  Silhouette Desire

  Hunter’s Prey #185

  Bachelor Father #219

  Hawk’s Flight #242

  Deceptions #272

  Choices #283

  Heat of the Night #314

  Made in Heaven #336

  Return to Yesterday #360

  Adam’s Story #367

  Momentary Marriage #414

  With All My Heart #433

  A Touch of Spring #464

  Irresistible #499

  A Loving Spirit #552

  Candlelight for Two #577

  Lone Wolf #666

  Where There Is Love #714

  *Love Texas Style! #734

  *Courtship Texas Style! #739

  *Marriage Texas Style! #745

  Zeke #793

  *Temptation Texas Style! #883

  Mysterious Mountain Man #925

  †Megan’s Marriage #979

  †The Groom, I Presume? #992

  Lean, Mean & Lonesome #1237

  **Tall, Dark & Texan #1261

  Marriage Prey #1327

  Hard To Forget #1381

  Silhouette Romance

  Circumstantial Evidence #329

  Provocative Peril #359

  Sound of Summer #412

  Unheavenly Angel #442

  Strange Enchantment #501

  Mystery Lover #533

  That’s What Friends Are For #544

  Come Be My Love #609

  A Love Remembered #676

  Married?! #742

  The Gemini Man #796

  Daddy’s Angel #976

  Impromptu Bride #1018

  †Instant Mommy #1139

  †Unforgettable Bride #1294

  Silhouette Books

  Silhouette Christmas Stories 1988

  “Christmas Magic”

  Spring Fancy 1993

  “Surprise, Surprise!”

  Summer Sizzlers 1994

  “Deep Cover”

  *Sons of Texas: Rogues and Ranchers 1996

  Wanted: Mother 1996

  “What’s a Dad To Do?”

  Do You Take This Man? 1999

  “Rent-a-Husband”

  ANNETTE BROADRICK

  believes in romance and the magic of life. Since 1984, Annette has shared her view of life and love with readers. In addition to being nominated by Romantic Times as one of the Best New Authors of that year, she has also won the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best in its Series; the Romantic Times W.I.S.H. award; and the Romantic Times Lifetime Achievement Awards for Series Romance and Series Romantic Fantasy.

  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

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Where is she?

  Brad Phillips slammed the phone back in its cradle. There had been no answer at Rachel Wood’s home. Instead, all he’d heard was her cheerful recording inviting him to leave his name and number. She already knew his name and number. He was her boss and she should have been at work hours ago.

  Impatient and more than a little unnerved by her continued absence, Brad shoved his chair away from his desk, stood and began to pace. He couldn’t remember a time in the eight years she’d worked for him when Rachel hadn’t called if she was running late.

  So what is going on?

  He glanced at his watch. Since she was generally at her desk working hard by the time he arrived each morning around seven-thirty, that meant that she was more than two hours late.

  The only scenario that made sense—and the thought scared the hell out of him—was that she’d been in an accident on her way to the office and was lying unconscious somewhere, unable to call him. Twice this morning he’d picked up the phone to call the various hospitals that served the metropolitan area of Dallas, Texas, to see if she had been taken to any of their emergency rooms.

  So far, he’d managed to talk himself out of that move, at least for the time being. His head told him that it was too soon to panic. No doubt there was a perfectly logical explanation why she hadn’t gotten in touch with him. Unfortunately for his peace of mind, he’d been unable to come up with one.

  Brad continued to pace, wondering how long a person had to be missing before you could call the police. Probably more than two hours, which meant there was nothing he could do but wait, not his favorite form of activity. Or inactivity, which was why he’d never considered
patience a virtue. He considered patience a complete waste of time.

  His intercom rang and Brad almost leaped across the room to reach his desk.

  “Yes?”

  His secretary, Janelle, said, “I wanted to remind you of your ten o’clock meeting with Arthur Simmons.”

  “Thanks,” he replied. He turned away from his desk and walked over to the window. Just what he needed, he thought, his irritation and apprehension climbing another notch—a meeting with Arthur Simmons without Rachel to run interference.

  The man was a genius with numbers and financial strategy. He’d saved Brad all kinds of money since he’d become the head of Phillips Construction Company’s accounting department. Brad considered himself blessed to have the guy.

  However, he dreaded each meeting that he was forced to sit through. Simmons had to be one of the most boring men Brad had ever encountered. Brad needed Rachel at the meeting as a buffer. She knew when he’d had enough of long-winded recitations delivered in an annoying monotone. She had a knack for bringing meetings to a close without offending anyone.

  If Rachel didn’t show up in the next fifteen minutes, Brad would be left on his own to suffer through Simmons’s long-winded explanations of the latest reports from his department.

  The numbers were essential to Brad and he would be the last person to deny their importance, but he would much prefer to look over the figures himself without having them explained to him in excruciating detail.

  Maybe it was Simmons’s attitude that bugged him. He came from a wealthy, upper-crust family somewhere back east. Arthur had made it clear during his interviews for the position that despite his moneyed background, he felt called to share his knowledge and expertise with humanity.

  In Arthur’s case, humanity appeared to be Phillips Construction Company, but Brad didn’t care as long as Arthur continued to save—and therefore help to make—the company a great deal of money.

  Although the two of them were close in age, he and Simmons couldn’t be more different. Brad had come up the hard way. He was a street kid who had eventually built a multimillion-dollar construction business from little more than his back, his bare hands and encouragement from a man who had believed he had potential.

  Simmons, on the other hand, had probably never worked up a sweat in his life. Instead, he had attended all the right private schools and graduated with honors from a prestigious eastern university.

  Brad was in no way envious of the man. The gulf between their backgrounds just underlined the fact that they had nothing in common…except the mutual goal to make the company a success.

  The way Brad saw it, he was a physical person. Simmons was a card-carrying intellectual. His carefully manicured hands made it obvious that Simmons had never picked up anything heavier than a pencil.

  Brad turned away from the window, running his hand through his hair in agitation. He needed his invaluable administrative assistant and he needed her now.

  He forced himself to return to his desk, almost hearing Rachel’s voice telling him to relax and use his time practicing patience.

  Brad threw himself into his chair with a long-suffering sigh. Rachel’s voice often echoed in his head. He figured she’d taken him on as some kind of project.

  He would never forget the day he had hired her. He’d had no idea at the time that it was the smartest decision he’d ever make.

  He’d been twenty-five, carefully tending a fledgling company by working long hours and generally sleeping in the construction trailer at his current building site.

  He had a construction crew but no one who knew anything about the paperwork involved, including himself.

  He’d been awarded the contract to build a multiplex theatre in north Dallas, the biggest job of his career. After the elation wore off, Brad had realized that he could no longer operate his growing business out of his apartment and a construction trailer.

  He needed a bona fide office…with real office workers. He found the thought terrifying. An office would mean hiring—at the very least—a receptionist, a secretary and a bookkeeper. The latter job took up entirely too much of his time already.

  The problem was that he couldn’t afford to hire that many people. Not yet. But once he finished the multiplex, he felt that more business would come his way. He knew he provided quality structures. He’d worked hard to build a reputation for honesty, integrity and fair dealing.

  Yes, there would be more work down the road, but until then he still worked on a shoestring budget.

  Brad faced the reality of his situation and advertised for what he could afford—a receptionist—in the hope that whoever applied for the position might be able to do more than answer the phone.

  His first step had been to lease office space. He’d negotiated the price with the owner by agreeing to do repair jobs on the building whenever needed. He’d worked on the new space every night and weekend.

  When he placed the help-wanted ad in the paper, the office space was still a mess, which meant he had to figure out where to hold interviews. He couldn’t expect a woman to show up at the project location and pick her way around building supplies, equipment and construction debris to get to his trailer. He eventually settled on a corner coffee shop near the site.

  His phone rang repeatedly the day the ad first appeared. Brad was excited by the response. Surely he would find someone qualified within days.

  A week later he was less excited. By then, he knew he was in deep trouble. Either the applicant wanted too much money or she didn’t appear to know how to handle business calls or keep messages straight. By the third week, he was desperate.

  Then Rachel Wood called.

  “Phillips Construction,” he yelled over the drilling noise going on outside.

  In a cool, refined voice, she said, “Mr. Phillips, please.”

  Man, she sounded so professional that it never occurred to him she was anything but some CEO’s administrative assistant.

  “You’ve got him,” he said grinning. He was already fantasizing about what the woman with the crisp—yet husky—voice might look like.

  “I understand you’re seeking a receptionist. Is the position still available?”

  He’d been leaning back in his chair reading some reports when she called. At her words, he almost flipped over the chair. Struggling to maintain his balance, Brad triumphed over gravity enough to place his feet on the floor before saying, “Uh, yeah, uh, the position is open if you’re interested.” He heard the doubt in his voice and hoped she didn’t notice.

  She gave a quiet sigh that he could have sworn sounded like relief. But when she spoke her voice was perfectly composed.

  “When may I set up an appointment to be interviewed?”

  He almost told her the job was already hers if she wanted it, but managed to restrain himself. This must be some kind of mistake, but at least he’d get to see her in person and have his curiosity satisfied. With a person like her answering his phone, his office would immediately appear financially sound, stable, and trustworthy.

  He was already lamenting the fact that he would never be able to afford to hire her.

  He glanced at his watch. “Is it too late to meet today?” he asked and held his breath.

  “Not at all. That would be fine. If you could give me your address and a time that would be convenient, I’ll be there.”

  Now came the sticky part. “Well, the thing is, my office space won’t be ready for occupancy until next week, but there’s a coffee shop near my present project where we could meet, if that’s okay with you—say around five o’clock?”

  “Certainly,” she replied with a crispness that he found attractive and calming.

  He gave her the address and directions. After he hung up, he sat staring at the wall. Don’t get too excited, he warned himself. Once she finds out what a tiny operation this is and all the paperwork that keeping it running entails, a woman like her will laugh at the pittance of salary I have to offer.

  Brad forced h
is attention back to the reports before he returned to work with his crew. As the day progressed, he kept an eye on the clock to be certain he’d arrive at the interview on time.

  By the time he walked into the coffee shop, Brad had washed up, but what he wore—faded jeans, a shirt with the sleeves ripped out and battered work boots covered with dust and grime—marked him for what he was: a construction worker. He might be the boss, but he knew he was too rough around the edges to mingle socially with the clientele he hoped to impress with his company’s performance.

  He glanced around the small café, realizing too late that he’d neglected to get a description of Rachel Wood. He’d been more rattled at the time than he’d thought.

  He rubbed his hand over his face, frowning. All right. Process of elimination. How many women were there? Alone?

  Unfortunately, at least five.

  Were any of them looking at him?

  He dropped his head in disgust and stared at his boots. All of them watched him, and two of them wore predatory expressions.

  A strong sense of relief coursed through him when a familiar voice from behind him said, “Pardon me, but are you Mr. Phillips?”

  He turned and met the cool green gaze of a very attractive young woman who wore a tailored dress the color of her eyes. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a knot and framed her heart-shaped face.

  The top of her head was level with his chin.

  “You must be Ms. Wood,” he replied, a sense of relief that they’d connected washing over him. This woman couldn’t actually save his life; it only felt that way.