The Sweetheart Secret by Shirley Jump Page B

avoid getting caught coming home in the middle of the night, but still a skill she knew well.
    If your husband signs off on the loan,
I could get this approved without a problem.
    Which meant she needed to find a way to convince her “husband” to remain married. And add his signature to some loan documents.
    Yeah, should be about as easy as negotiating peace in the Middle East. Considering Colt hadn’t answered her calls, and hadn’t come by the motel yet to see her, or called her cell. Clearly, he wasn’t planning on negotiating.
    Last night . . . well, last night had been crazy and wonderful and bittersweet. She’d enjoyed stepping into that homey world, where there were squabbles over what to eat for dinner and who did the dishes. For a moment, Daisy had felt . . . warm.
    Not just when Colt was standing close, either. That hadn’t been warm—that had been hot and tempting and a thousand other things Daisy was determined to avoid. She needed to get involved with Colt about as much as she needed a wolverine for a pet.
    He was no longer the Colt she had fallen in love with and never would be again. He was the kind of man she ran from—buttoned up and organized and dull.
    Okay, maybe not dull, but not the Colt she remembered.
    The man Daisy had known years ago had been a risk taker. The kind of guy who would hop on his motorcycle, blast out of Florida with Daisy on the back, and elope, without a second thought. She had no idea where that man had gone, but if there was a chance she could get through to that side of him long enough to convince him to sign off on the loan—
    Well, she was going to pull out all the negotiation tactics she knew.
    Which was what had Daisy making two stops that Thursday morning. For ammunition that she knew Colt Harper would not be able to ignore. And a little secret weapon.
    A little after nine, she parked in front of his office, and strode inside the squat brick building, a white box in one hand. The tidy, tastefully decorated waiting room was empty. A blessing, to be sure, since the last thing Daisy wanted to do was interrupt another appointment and really aggravate Colt. Daisy plastered a smile on her face, then strode up to the reception desk.
    Frannie got to her feet, putting out her hands. The tall, buxom, auburn-haired woman cut an imposing figure, and her stony face said this was her front office, her domain, and there was no way Daisy was gaining the upper hand again. “I can’t let you back there, unless you have an appointment. Direct orders from Doc Harper.”
    â€œI totally understand. Frannie, is it? I was out of line the other day. Way out of line. I stopped by to apologize.” Daisy lifted the lid, and tipped the box forward a little. “And what better way to do that than with beignets? They’re a specialty in New Orleans.”
    â€œBeignets?” Frannie’s eyes grew round. She leaned in, inhaled the scent of fresh baked goods. “Oh my. Where did you find those in Rescue Bay?”
    â€œI asked the local bakery to do me a favor and make some.” Actually, begged them to do her a favor was a more apt description. She’d paid twice as much for the beignets because they’d been a last minute request, but if a few dollars of pastries helped Daisy save the Hideaway Inn, then it was a worthy investment. A business expense, of sorts.
    Daisy moved the box closer to Frannie. “I have been craving them ever since I left Louisiana. They smell so divine, I almost ate one in the car, but then that wouldn’t be much of an apology gift, would it?”
    â€œThey’re still warm?” Frannie shot a glance at the exam room area, then back toward the beignets. Melting confectionary sugar added a sheen to the top of the fried dough, and the sweet, warm scent wafted temptation across the desk. She bit her lip, considering. “No one is due in for the next few minutes. And