Cathy Thacker - Miss Charlotte Surrenders

A fan-favorite story from bestselling Mills & Boon American Romance author Cathy Gillen Thacker!

She Was a Lady…

Miss Charlotte Langston needs to focus on saving her family’s languishing estate. The once-gorgeous plantation is facing foreclosure unless Charlotte can earn money for the next payment. What she doesn’t need is the distraction of Brett Forrest, her sexy new caretaker, who is doing his best to make her forget her Southern manners!

But He Was No Gentleman!

Brett isn’t who he says he is, but hiding right under Charlotte’s nose seems like the perfect deception. The Southern belle could easily earn the money she needs by exposing him as the reclusive writer of a series of popular novels. But it’s much more fun to tempt her with hot kisses and feed the sparks that fly between them! What will happen, though, when the independent Charlotte finds out he’s about to buy the place from under her?

Miss Charlotte Surrenders

Cathy Gillen Thacker

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Back Cover Copy A fan-favorite story from bestselling Mills & Boon American Romance author Cathy Gillen Thacker! She Was a Lady… Miss Charlotte Langston needs to focus on saving her family’s languishing estate. The once-gorgeous plantation is facing foreclosure unless Charlotte can earn money for the next payment. What she doesn’t need is the distraction of Brett Forrest, her sexy new caretaker, who is doing his best to make her forget her Southern manners! But He Was No Gentleman! Brett isn’t who he says he is, but hiding right under Charlotte’s nose seems like the perfect deception. The Southern belle could easily earn the money she needs by exposing him as the reclusive writer of a series of popular novels. But it’s much more fun to tempt her with hot kisses and feed the sparks that fly between them! What will happen, though, when the independent Charlotte finds out he’s about to buy the place from under her?

Title Page Miss Charlotte Surrenders Cathy Gillen Thacker www.millsandboon.co.uk

Prologue Prologue “I want that woman off my back,” Stephen Sterling grumbled to his New York City attorney. Franklin Dunn, Jr., picked up a gold pen and turned it end over end. “Charlotte Langston has been a pest, hasn’t she?” “And then some.” Stephen stroked his gray goatee and sighed, then turned back to Franklin with a relentless scowl. “I’m not going to let that nosy journalist unmask me,” he vowed. “I don’t blame you,” Franklin said. Waving his pen in lecturing fashion, he continued, “And to that end, I have a suggestion for you.” Stephen’s bushy gray brow lifted in speculative interest. “Name it.” “You need a spy in the enemy camp.” Stephen grinned as he casually tucked his silk ascot into the open collar of his shirt. “Someone to keep her from finding out everything she has always wanted to know?” “Exactly. As long as the person you hire is one step ahead of the indefatigable Miss Langston, keeping her in the dark about you will be easy,” Franklin assured him. Stephen sat back in his chair. He ran his hand thoughtfully over the ivory handle on his cane. “You’ve got a point,” he said slowly. A wicked gleam came into his eyes. “Furthermore, I know just the man for the job.” “Who?” Franklin sat forward expectantly. “Brett Forrest,” Stephen said with a contemplative grin. “He’ll keep her so busy and aggravated that poor Miss Langston will never guess an enemy has infiltrated her nest.”

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Copyright Page

Prologue

“I want that woman off my back,” Stephen Sterling grumbled to his New York City attorney.

Franklin Dunn, Jr., picked up a gold pen and turned it end over end. “Charlotte Langston has been a pest, hasn’t she?”

“And then some.” Stephen stroked his gray goatee and sighed, then turned back to Franklin with a relentless scowl. “I’m not going to let that nosy journalist unmask me,” he vowed.

“I don’t blame you,” Franklin said. Waving his pen in lecturing fashion, he continued, “And to that end, I have a suggestion for you.”

Stephen’s bushy gray brow lifted in speculative interest. “Name it.”

“You need a spy in the enemy camp.”

Stephen grinned as he casually tucked his silk ascot into the open collar of his shirt. “Someone to keep her from finding out everything she has always wanted to know?”

“Exactly. As long as the person you hire is one step ahead of the indefatigable Miss Langston, keeping her in the dark about you will be easy,” Franklin assured him.

Stephen sat back in his chair. He ran his hand thoughtfully over the ivory handle on his cane. “You’ve got a point,” he said slowly. A wicked gleam came into his eyes. “Furthermore, I know just the man for the job.”

“Who?” Franklin sat forward expectantly.

“Brett Forrest,” Stephen said with a contemplative grin. “He’ll keep her so busy and aggravated that poor Miss Langston will never guess an enemy has infiltrated her nest.”

Chapter One

Charlotte emerged from her car, stiff from two straight days of driving, and took a good look around. The house where she and her sisters had grown up was just as she remembered it. Twelve tall white columns braced the front of the majestic three-story plantation home. Dark green shutters adorned every window and contrasted nicely against gleaming white wood. Creamy-petaled camellias with evergreen leaves surrounded the veranda on all sides. But there, the tender loving care stopped.

Her heart sinking, Charlotte realized the grounds of the rural Mississippi plantation were in terrible shape. The once beautiful lawn of Camellia Lane was now peppered with crabgrass and dandelions and streamed wetly up past her knees. The flower beds that lined the drive stood empty. Even more disturbing, one of the shutters on a second-floor window had been knocked loose by the wind and hung crooked on one hinge.

Her younger sister, Isabella, had hired a caretaker. What on earth could he be doing with his time?

Charlotte frowned. Having seen the grounds, she wondered what kind of condition the caretaker’s cottage was in. Deciding to find out, she marched down the flagstone path to the cottage, which was some distance away, and knocked on the door. Once…twice. There was no answer.

Determining she had better check on things, Charlotte unlocked the door and stormed in. The place was a wreck. Papers and books were everywhere. A state-of-the-art laptop computer and portable LaserJet printer sat on the table. Charlotte frowned. What caretaker could afford that luxury? Furthermore, what caretaker had ever been this incredibly handsome, even when sprawled on a sofa, apparently fast asleep?

Even in repose, every inch of him was tantalizingly, ruggedly male. He had dark coffee-colored hair that fell away from his face in thick rumpled waves. A full mustache emphasized rather than hid his sensually chiseled lips. High cheekbones and the squareness of his jaw added to the rakish appeal of his straight-blade nose and rectangular face.

He had to be at least six foot four of solid male muscle and was probably in his mid-thirties. He wore faded jeans, a sparkling white T-shirt and a light gray sweatshirt bearing the Yale insignia.