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would be an intimate dinner for two with Victoria Camille Planchet. He promised himself that pleasure as he turned his head to snare the lady’s startled gaze. The becoming stain of rose across her cheeks told him she was all too aware of his thoughts.
     
    “Trev, I want off the rally,” Tory said into the black candlestick phone the second her brother answered at his end.
    “What? Geez, I just walked in the door.” he replied impatiently. “Why didn’t you say something at dinner earlier? It’s almost midnight.”
    “Don’t you think I know that?” Tory shot back, rolling her eyes at the ceiling. She’d spent the past few hours wondering just what to do about her Herrington situation, and waiting for Trevor to get home so she could settle it. “I started calling you twenty minutes after you went off the air at ten-thirty, Mr. Sportscaster, who always forgets to turn on his answering machine. Where have you been?”
    “Out for a drink, not that it’s any of your business little sister.” Trevor’s voice was amused at her harried demand. “What’s this about, wanting to quit the rally staff?”
    “You’ll have to get someone else to handle the media,” Tory said quickly, jumping up from the pale-yellow Grecian couch to pace the length of her living room. She almost regretted her sudden need to break all connection with anything that had to do with Logan Herrington. “There’s just too much to do with the shop renovations. I hadn’t realized how lousy the timing would be when I agreed to help.”
    “Look who’s talking about lousy timing. You know how hard it is to get people to do the administrative work, and you wait until barely two weeks before—” he broke off suddenly, causing Tory to stop dead in her tracks. She held her breath, cursing her stupidity at calling Trevor instead of Curtiss. There was slim chance he’d take her excuses at face value, but she knew it was a futile wish from the knowing laugh at the other end of the phone line.
    “This sudden panic wouldn’t have anything to do with our dinner guest, would it? Now that I think about it, you picked him up at the airport today, but you hardly exchanged more than two words with old Logan all during dinner,” Trevor exclaimed, highly amused by his observations. “So, what gives? Did the big, bad Yankee give you a hard time?”
    “Trevor, get real.”
    “Well, I think I should know all the details, if I have to defend your honor, or whatever it is I’m supposed to do.” His tone was overly sincere, which didn’t fool his sister, who knew he hoped she’d become frustrated with his nonsense, then make an incriminating slip. Tory smiled to herself, since nothing had actually happened between her and Logan. She decided to quit the rally to insure that nothing would. In less than twelve hours, the man had disturbed her more than any man she’d ever met. It would be best if she could avoid him whenever possible.
    “You’re weird, you know that?” she asked, forcing herself to give a light laugh. “I’ve just got too much to do. We have two wedding receptions and a huge retirement party to cater, besides getting the shops ready. Lou Abbott told me today we can probably have our grand opening at Park Plaza two weeks ahead—”
    “Ahead of what? What’s the matter?”
    “I thought I heard someone at the front door.” Tory cocked her head to the side and listened for the sound again. She had to be mistaken. No one would be knocking at her door at this time of night. “Good Lord, someone is knocking at the door.”
    “You’ve got to be kidding,” Trevor challenged, implying that his sister was using it as an excuse to end their conversation at a highly interesting point.
    “No, I’m not kidding. Listen.” She held the earpiece in the direction of the entrance as the knocking became more insistent. “Hang on a second, there might be something wrong at the main house.”
    “Victoria, you keep talking to me while you