The Knight, the Waitress and the Toddler Read online

  “Are you out of your ever-loving mind?” Edward shouted.

  He saw Laurel’s lower lip tremble and tried not to feel sympathy. After all, within minutes of walking off the street and into his office, this pretty, penniless, wide-eyed waitress had actually proposed marriage to him—as if that would guarantee his legal services and solve all her problems.

  Him! Solid, stolid attorney Edward White!

  Who did Laurel think he was, the White Knight?

  Even if he had been, Edward wasn’t at all certain he’d attempt to rescue this particular damsel in distress. She was obviously a tad eccentric.

  So why on earth was Attorney Edward White’s firm, no-nonsense, professional mouth watering at the thought of championing Laurel Heffington Miller’s utterly improbable cause?

  Dear Reader,

  Fall is to be savored for all its breathtaking glory—and a spectacular October lineup awaits at Special Edition!

  For years, readers have treasured Tracy Sinclair’s captivating romances…and October commemorates her fiftieth Silhouette book! To help celebrate this wonderful author’s crowning achievement, be sure to check out The Princess Gets Engaged— an enthralling romance that finds American tourist Megan Delaney in a royal mess when she masquerades as a princess and falls hopelessly in love with the charming Prince Nicholas.

  This month’s THAT’s MY BABY! title is by Lois Faye Dyer. He’s Got His Daddy’s Eyes is a poignant reunion story about hope, the enduring power of love and how one little boy works wonders on two broken hearts.

  Nonstop romance continues as three veteran authors deliver enchanting stories. Check out award-winning author Marie Ferrarella’s adorable tale about mismatched lovers when a blue-blooded heroine hastily marries a blue-collar carpenter in Wanted: Husband, Will Train. And what’s an amnesiac triplet to do when she washes up on shore and right into the arms of a brooding billionaire? Find out in The Mysterious Stranger, when Susan Mallery’s engaging TRIPLE TROUBLE series splashes to a finish! Reader favorite Arlene James serves up a tender story about unexpected love in The Knight, The Waitress and the Toddler—book four in our FROM BUD TO BLOSSOM promo series.

  Finally, October’s WOMAN TO WATCH is debut author Lisette Belisle, who unfolds an endearing romance between an innocent country girl and a gruff drifter in Just Jessie.

  I hope you enjoy these books, and all of the stories to come!

  Sincerely,

  Tara Gavin, Senior Editor

  Please address questions and book requests to:

  Silhouette Reader Service

  U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

  Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

  The Knight, The Waitess And The Toddler

  Arlene James

  Books by Arlene James

  Silhouette Special Edition

  A Rumor of Love #664

  Husband in the Making #776

  With Baby in Mind #869

  Child of Her Heart #964

  The Knight, the Waitress and the Toddler #1131

  Silhouette Romance

  City Girl #141

  No Easy Conquest #235

  Two of a Kind #253

  A Meeting of Hearts #327

  An Obvious Virtue #384

  Now or Never #404

  Reason Enough #421

  The Right Moves #446

  Strange Bedfellows #471

  The Private Garden #495

  The Boy Next Door #518

  Under a Desert Sky #559

  A Delicate Balance #578

  The Discerning Heart #614

  Dream of a Lifetime #661

  Finally Home #687

  A Perfect Gentleman #705

  Family Man #728

  A Man of His Word #770

  Tough Guy #806

  Gold Digger #830

  Palace City Prince #866

  *The Perfect Wedding #962

  *An Old-Fashioned Love #968

  *A Wife Worth Waiting for #974

  Mail-Order Brood #1024

  *The Rogue Who Came To Stay #1061

  *Most Wanted Dad #1144

  Desperately Seeking Daddy #1186

  *This Side of Heaven

  ARLENE JAMES

  grew up in Oklahoma and has lived all over the South. In 1976 she married “the most romantic man in the world.” The author enjoys traveling with her husband, but writing has always been her chief pastime.

  Dear Reader,

  They say that love is blind, but over the years I’ve come to doubt the veracity of that statement. It seems to me that, rather than failing to see what is obvious, real love often sees more than the human eye reveals. Love sees all the possibilities and brings with it the power to transform even the plainest Jane—or, in this case, the dullest Edward—into all that engages and excites the human heart. Love gets beneath the skin to the beauty of the soul and bares that beauty for all to see. It’s precisely that transforming power of love that drives us to open our hearts, sometimes even before we can open our minds, and makes us more than we knew we could be. So it is with Edward and Laurel.

  Laurel is a woman in need of a champion, and in dull, responsible, predictable Edward she sees him. With the eyes of love, Laurel sees not so much a big teddy bear in need of a make-over, but the large stalwart heart of a hero. The power of love frees that heart and in doing so transforms its possessor into a thrilling, passionate, even stylish, modern-day knight with a law book under one arm and an adorable redheaded little imp under the other. Say that love is blind, if you will. I say that love not only has X-ray vision but the power to bring out the nobility and beauty that reside in the heart of every lover. May it always be so.

  God bless.

  Chapter One

  Laurel shifted nervously in her chair, crossing her slender legs and tugging demurely at the hem of her short, straight skirt. Her worried eyes skimmed the polished interior of the waiting room, taking in the gleaming wood paneling with its picture-frame molding, the lush plants in brass and ceramic planters, the discreet indirect lighting, the comfortable wing chairs upholstered with butter-soft, navy blue leather, and heavy, pristine glass-and-brass tables. The carpet underfoot was made of thick, hunter green wool. The elaborately framed prints on the wall were genuine works of art, the window treatments a stylish blend of burgundy, blue and green, draped and looped and pleated with thick gold tassels and fringe. The waiting room of the office of attorney Edward White was lavishly and expensively, if unimaginatively, decorated, as befitted its stately Turtle Creek address. No business location in the entire Dallas area evoked such images of status, prestige and old money.

  Was it a mistake to come here? she wondered for the umpteenth time. Would the family name carry enough weight to convince him to help her? Unanswerable questions. Only one thing did she know for sure: no one outside of the select, necessary few could know about Barry. She shuddered to think what her exhusband would do if he knew about the boy. Bryce would undoubtedly take him away from her and use him to ensure that she did not fight for what was rightfully hers, and she would, indeed, give up everything for Barry. Yet, how could she protect that sweet, bright child without money? Her thoughts drifted to Danny Hardacre and his obscene proposal again. Involuntarily she shuddered. Suddenly she realized that the gentleman sitting opposite her was watching openly over the top of his newspaper.

  Glancing at her wristwatch, she forced a sigh and again shifted in her chair, rocking to one side and uncrossing her legs. In an effort to avoid his curious gaze while buoying her own spirits, she looked down at her shoes. She liked her shoes. They were the perfect shoes for this outfit. She smoothed the white-and
-gold braid decorating the stand-up collar of her military-style coat dress and smiled down at her olive green patent leather shoes with their big white buttons barred with gold. How many olive green patent leather ladies’ high heel shoes were there in the world? Why, she might have the only pair in Dallas.

  She heard a warm chuckle and lifted her head to look at the room’s only other occupant. He was a tall, slender man with dark, wavy hair, handsome, sharpish features and a decided sparkle in his eyes. Snappily dressed in a cream silk sport jacket, tan slacks and a matching T-shirt, he wore costly Italian leather loafers without socks. His grin was quick and knowing.

  “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a pair of shoes just that color,” he said, nodding at her feet.

  Laurel smiled, taking his statement as a definite compliment “Thank you. I got them from a friend, a designer, during the spring market show at the apparel market. I had just finished this dress, and the shoes were a perfect match for it—utterly perfect.” She shrugged happily, momentarily distracted from her larger worries.

  The gentleman closed the investment magazine that he had been perusing and twinkled a smile at her. “So you’re a fashion designer?”

  Laurel’s spirits instantly plummeted. She looked down at her toes in an effort to hide her disappointment. “Oh, no,” she said as casually as possible. “I mean, I have the training, but I’ve never actually worked at it.”

  “Ah, then you design just for yourself.”

  It was more statement than question, and Laurel couldn’t hide her surprise at the astuteness of it. “How did you know?”

  He chuckled again. “A guess, really. I once dated a designer. I’ve never known anyone else so pleased at finding just the right accessories for an outfit.”

  Laurel struck a disgusted pose. “Was it that obvious?”

  His grin told her that it was.

  She sighed. “It’s silly, I know, and frivolous, but I can’t help myself. I just feel better when I’m well dressed, and—”

  “I didn’t say that,” he interrupted. “I’m something of a clotheshorse myself. The right clothing won’t make a bad situation better, but it won’t hurt, either. It’s just…”

  “What?”

  “It isn’t going to impress him.”

  Him? She lifted both delicately penciled brows in confusion. “Who?”

  “Ed.”

  “Ed?”

  “White. You know, Edward White, the attorney in whose office you’re waiting.”

  “Oh!” She smiled, then the message penetrated, canceling the flash of relief that had accompanied understanding. “Oh.” Was it hopeless then? Had Hardacre been right after all? She pictured her divorce lawyer: fiftyish with a desperate air about him, receding hairline, pockmarked skin, a short, stocky build and those awful polyester pants and baggy sport coats. If he’d owned a tie that was not stained, she hadn’t seen it.

  She tried not to think of Daniel Hardacre, not even as her last resort, but he had warned her that no one else would take on her case for the simple reason that she could not guarantee payment for services rendered. He had then offered to represent her in her pursuit of justice, but only if she would marry him. She’d had enough experience in divorce court to know that any spouse of hers would be entitled to half of all the moneys acquired during the course of the marriage. Daniel could have collected half of her inheritance for his trouble and had her at his mercy in the bargain. She had told herself very reasonably that half was better than none, but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t marry Daniel Hardacre, not even for Barry…. Not yet. Perhaps if he promised to forego even the smallest intimacies of marriage she could manage it, but then she’d somehow have to hide Barry. She could never trust Hardacre to keep quiet about him. Yet, only money and a good deal of it would make it possible to adequately hide the boy from a husband, and Danny did not have even a few hundred to advance her. She might be able to keep him quiet by bartering her body, but the very idea made her skin crawl. No, she would not think of Danny Hardacre, not even as a last resort—not yet.

  Determinedly, she swallowed down such thoughts and tried to focus on something positive. An outstretched hand entered her field of vision. She jerked her gaze up to find her companion smiling apologetically at her.

  “My name’s Parker Sugarman,” he said gently, letting her know that he’d noticed her distress.

  She made herself smile and slipped her hand into his. “Laurel Heffington Miller.”

  He lifted a brow at her maiden name. “Mrs. Miller, is it?”

  “Not anymore,” she stated with pronounced satisfaction.

  He laughed and pumped her arm up and down. “Nice to meet you, Laurel Heffington Miller.”

  A giggle bubbled up. “Same to you, Parker Sugarman.”

  He sat back and folded his arms, considering her. “You’re a very interesting young woman,” he announced finally. “I like that”

  She dropped her gaze, warmed by that unexpected statement of praise. “Thank you.”

  A long silence followed, during which it occurred to Laurel that here sat a golden opportunity. She licked her lips and eased her gaze up. “You seem to, ah, know Mr. White.”

  Parker Sugarman nodded. “I’ve known him for years.”

  Laurel leaned forward slightly. “Is he a good attorney, do you think?”

  “The best, and an even better friend.”

  She bit her lip, afraid to be encouraged. “Would you say that he’s, um, generous?”

  Parker Sugarman’s gaze suddenly became speculative. He nodded carefully. “In his own way, yes.”

  Laurel took a deep breath. “Would he want to help someone in trouble, do you think?”

  He tilted his head, and the tone of his voice dropped a notch. “Are you in trouble, Ms. Miller?”

  She grimaced. “I probably didn’t phrase it properly. My problem is…of a financial nature.”

  “Ah.” He seemed to relax and waved a hand negligently. “Well, if this financial problem has legal complications—”

  “It does.”

  “Then you couldn’t do better than Edward to advise and represent you.”

  She nodded, trying desperately to take hope from that, but her list of disappointments was long. Six other attorneys had turned down her case so far. Why should Edward White be any different? What she needed was a courageous advocate, one obsessed with righting wrongs and seeing justice dispensed, one who wasn’t cowed by the specter of opposing attorney Abelard Kennison. What she needed was a white knight in lawyer’s clothing. At least Edward White had the right surname, but would he help her just because it was the right thing to do? If her present surroundings were any indication, he could certainly afford to do so, but she could have said the same about several of those who had already turned her down.

  Absently, she ran both hands through her short, pale blond hair, disarranging the precise middle part and the twin curves of the longish bangs that framed her forehead and eyes and, unbeknownst to her, making a spiky lock at the crown stick straight up. Parker Sugarman cleared his throat and, when she looked at him, pointed to the crown of his own head. Laurel rolled her eyes upward, suddenly realized to what he was alluding, and quickly smoothed down the errant lock.

  “I shudder to think how many times a day I do that,” she confessed, blushing.

  Parker shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry about it. You’re pretty enough to get away with it.”

  Laurel’s already large, bright green eyes, widened at the smooth compliment.

  Parker Sugarman burst out laughing. “I’m sorry. You’re just so expressive. I have a little girl, Darla, and she’s like that. Her eyes “don’t just widen, they nearly pop out of her head. I find it very appealing. She’s so…unaffected, honest. It’s…refreshing.”

  “Thank you. I think.”

  He laughed again. “You’re welcome.”

  Laurel smiled, at ease once more, comfortable enough, in fact, to change the subject. “About Mr. White…” she
said hopefully.

  Parker folded his hands in his lap in a show of good-natured resignation. “What would you like to know?”

  “Anything. Everything.”

  He slid his gaze sideways, pretending to search his memory. “Well, let’s see. He’s thirty-six, single, an only child. His parents live in Boca Raton, both retired attorneys. Did I mention that he’s single?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, you did.”

  Parker Sugarman examined his nails. “What I should have said is that he’s never been married.”

  “Oh?” Was it her imagination, or was he putting special emphasis on Edward White’s marital status?

  “Mmm. He was engaged once.” Parker’s tone was entirely too nonchalant.

  “Was he?”

  “To a lovely woman,” he went on.

  Where the devil was this going? she wondered. She waited a long moment and then, knowing that she was supposed to, asked, “What happened?”

  Both his tone and his smile were unrepentantly smug. “I married her instead.”

  Laurel’s chin nearly hit her lap. “Good heavens!”

  He shrugged, grinning. “They had already broken up. Besides, it was for the best. They weren’t suited.”

  “No?”

  “No.” He leaned forward and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Between you and me,” he told her, “Ed’s a trifle—how do I put this?—um, stuffy…if you catch my meaning.

  Laurel frowned, not catching his meaning at all. “I thought you were his friend.”

  “I am! His very best friend. It’s just that Ed is dependable to the point of boredom.”

  Laurel bristled in defense of a quality whose lack she knew all too well. “How can you call being dependable boring? It’s the hardest thing in the world to be!”