You’re her first target.

“No, I’m not.”

She’s ruthless and desperate.

“There’s no way.” He shook his head again and cursed under his breath, then brusquely opened the North Vineyard file and started to study the lease terms. After reading the same convoluted sentence three times, he stopped, looked up and stared at the closed doors leading to Trish’s work area.

They’re perfectly positioned to bring you down.

He raked his fingers through his hair as he recalled Marjorie’s words four days ago, the morning she brought Trish in to take Cheryl’s place as his assistant.

I’ve got the perfect person for you, Marjorie had said. And she’d been damn cheery about it, too.

“Ah, hell,” he muttered. There was no way his brother Brandon was right. It was ludicrous. Trish? A plant? A willing player in his mother’s scheme to marry him off?

Or was she just a pawn?

Adam pushed away from his desk and began to pace. He stopped. Shook his head. Paced some more. Stopped again.

He was driving himself crazy.

How could his mother and Marjorie pull off something like this? First of all, they would’ve had to have orchestrated Cheryl’s departure. Or would they? Maybe it was just a happy coincidence that Cheryl had left the company, and Marjorie, coerced by his mother, had jumped at the opportunity to bring in a certain attractive woman who just might be capable of seducing him into love and marriage.

His eyes narrowed as he conjured up a picture of Mom and Marjorie meeting, scheming, conniving to pull it off.

Suddenly, it didn’t seem at all far-fetched.

Abruptly, he remembered Trish’s own words, the ones he’d overheard her say to someone on the phone the other day.

Trust me, he won’t know what hit him.

Had Trish been talking to his mother? Or Marjorie, perhaps? It was obvious from her words that something shady was going on.