Chapter 1

Someone is watching me. She could feel it ... those prickles on her flesh that she got when she felt someone was watching her. She'd been having that feeling off and on for several years, but when she would look around to see who was staring at her ... there was no one. It was about 8:30 on Friday evening, April 13, 1956. Friday the 13th ... maybe I'm letting the date get to me... Diana Maitland was at an Irish-style Pub in downtown Los Angeles with her three girlfriends having a few drinks to relax after a long, hectic day at work. She looked around.

Then she saw him. A man at the bar, staring at her ... with the same burning look that she'd seen in the big man's eyes. A look that conveyed more than just desire...

He reminded her of the way the big man had looked in one of his movies, but younger; about the same age as she—thirtyish. He had thick, dark brown hair and piercing grayish blue eyes under heavy, expressive brows. And the mustache... Oh ... my ... God ... Handsome ... and very sexy.

The prickles on her flesh became tingles and they moved to settle between her legs when his eyes traveled down her body. You're envisioning things you want to do to me—mmm ... yes, there's some things I want you to do to me, too! Part of her heart stirred when his eyes returned to her face. I can tell you want me ... But do you want more than just my body?

A couple men approached her and her girlfriends to ask if any of them wanted to play darts. She shook her head no but nodded at her girlfriends to go ahead. She stayed seated at their table and kept glancing at the man staring at her.

Her glass was empty, so she got up and walked to the bar several feet away from him and set her glass down. The bartender asked if she wanted a refill; she nodded. Her nerves were reacting to the constant scrutiny by those piercing eyes. Say something, you idiot!

The bartender poured her another whiskey, neat, and the man crooked his right eyebrow at her choice of drink. Good God ... he does that just like the big man! She opened her purse to pay for her drink as he got up and walked over to her.

"I'm paying for that," he said to the bartender. God ... even his voice is sexy...

He was a just a few inches shorter than the big man. And he seemed to have a very manly physique ... broad shoulders, a large chest and a tapered abdomen under a very business-like suit. She caught a whiff of his aftershave lotion. Oh, damn ... you smell good! Stop sucking in air like that ... you're making him stare at your breasts!

Stop staring at her breasts and find out what you need to know, Agent Richards! "Are you here with any of the men you've been talking to tonight?" She shook her head no.

"Do you have a boyfriend, fiancé, husband or lover?" Again she shook her head. What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? Want me to find it for you? Just tell her before you blow it!

His voice deepened to a sexy rumble that made her soul stir from a familiar echo. "Good. Then I won't have to beat the shit out of some man for messing with my future wife. I'm Charles Richards, and you belong to me now, pretty lady."

She was suddenly taken aback by his boldness. She knew she should say something ... but her nerves still held her silent. She tried to walk away from him but he grabbed her hand and pulled her back against him, wrapping her arm behind her back ... and then he kissed her. He leaned her backwards—reminding her of that scene in "The Quiet Man" when Sean first kissed Mary Kate when he found her cleaning his cottage.

Oh, my God! You're already hard! So much for my clean panties... She felt herself melting into him ... all except for that piece of her heart that had been claimed years ago—by John Wayne.

She put her face on Charles Richards' chest and took a few seconds to recover from that kiss he planted on her. Wait a minute ... Who the hell do you think you are? Are you handing me some line because you just want to get me into bed? Mary Kate had gotten mad in that scene ... Her nervousness suddenly turned to anger.

She stepped away from him and swung her arm back to slap his face and he fended it off as well as John Wayne had in that scene. She glared at him and said in her best Mary Kate imitation, "It's a bold one you are! And who gave you leave to be kissin' me!"

Charles was surprised. Ah, a fellow John Wayne fan! He was more surprised, however, at her temper. She wasn't a redhead. She had the most beautiful, thick, wavy, golden blonde hair he'd ever seen ... Just like he'd always pictured on his "dream girl."

He knew this scene, too, so in his best John Wayne voice, he delivered his line. "So, you can talk!"

She almost grinned. You know this scene? "Yes, I can, I will and I do!" She backed away from him toward the bar. "And it's more than talk you'll be gettin' if you step a step closer to me!"

"Don't worry. You've got a wollop!" Boy, do you ever!

"You'll get over it, I'm thinkin'!" Like I could ever really hurt you ... you big, sexy hunk...

"Well, some things a man doesn't get over so easy." Yeah ... like five years of betrayal by your own wife ... Let it go ... she's not Sherry...

"Like ... what supposin'?" Do you really want me? All of me? Just as I am?

He backed her up against the bar and put his arms on either side of her, bracing his hands on the edge of the bar as he said the next lines. "Like the sight of a girl comin' through the fields, with the sun on her hair. Kneeling in church with a face like a saint." And a body like a sex goddess!

"Saint indeed!" Wait'l I get you alone ... you'll be praying to me for mercy!

"And now come into a man's house to clean it for him." I want you in my bed, not as my maid!

"But ... that was just my way of bein' a good Christian act." I am a Christian ... but don't expect to find me in church!

"I know it was, Mary Kate Danaher. And it was nice of ya." I am looking for a nice girl ... who also happens to enjoy being very naughty...

"Notatall." And though she couldn't escape through a door behind her, she stretched up and kissed him quickly.

She stared at him, her chest still heaving as she tried to control her growing excitement. Several people around them started clapping. They grinned at each other.

You're the man I've been waiting for... She had no idea how long she'd been waiting for him.

She noticed his smile right away. He had a sexy, crooked grin with a dimple in his right cheek, which made his grin look more boyish than John Wayne's. The image of a boy's face with a dimple like his flashed through her memory... Where did that come from? She frowned slightly as she tried to recall it, but it was already gone.

She'd noticed his eyes while he'd stared at her. They were almost exactly the same color as hers ... sparkling, grayish blue at the moment; not the slightly deeper color she'd seen when he'd let his desire show. Then she noticed his eyelashes. They were longer, thicker and curled more naturally than her short, sparse, straight lashes. No amount of mascara could enhance hers enough ... and his looked almost fake, they were so perfect. I want your eyelashes. But since you can't give me those, I'll take something else...

Charles stepped back from her and took her hand. He glanced around at the people clapping and said to her, "Take a bow!" as he bent forward. She curtsied a couple times.

He picked up her forgotten drink from the bar and then led her over to the table she'd been sitting at and seated her in the chair she had occupied most of the evening. He sat next to her on her left and stared at her for a few seconds. OK ... maybe I pushed a little too hard at first. Thank God you're a John Wayne fan...

"Now, why did you try to slap me? You could've hurt your hand!" Charles chided as he chuckled slightly.

She suddenly wished she didn't find herself so attracted to him. You may be the man I've been waiting for but you're really starting to irritate me with your smugness! She frowned at him.

"You seem awfully sure of yourself and of me when you know nothing about me! How can you dare to presume that I belong to you and am going to be your wife? What makes you think that we would be suited for marriage when we know nothing about each other?"

He grinned at her. "I know you have a temper ... and a bit more than you may think."

She almost growled in irritation. His grin was full of smug confidence. When she arched her eyebrows in question, he continued.

Don't get too personal right away, Agent Richards... "I know you're not originally from L.A. You have a slight southern accent that you haven't quite been able to get rid of, but it lends itself nicely to an Irish brogue. If I had to guess where you're from originally, I'd say ... Virginia ... probably eastern Virginia. You've been in L.A. for about ... ten years now. Probably came all the way out here with stars in your eyes, wanting to get into show biz ... but you changed your mind for some reason ... even though you seem very talented."

Her eyes widened. Do you know me somehow... ?

I'm right so far ... I can see it in your eyes... "You seem to be a confidant woman, but you're wary of men ... you've been hurt in the past. And something about your wary vulnerability tells me you've never been married. But you have been in love ... probably only once."

She frowned. How did you pick up on that much about me?

You're making me nervous! Are you interested in me? "You have specific qualifications that you've been looking for in a man. And I think you've seen something of them in me ... from the way you've been looking at me since you noticed me staring at you. I think you're a huge John Wayne fan and that I remind you of him somehow. I can live with that ... I'm a big fan, too."

She smiled and chuckled. Well ... the John Wayne thing is obvious ... but I'm a bit more than just a fan! Then she frowned again. Oh, shit ... don't turn out to be like Robert ... you're already way too late! You can't possibly think I'm still a virgin...

Oh, hell ... are you going to try to slap me again for this next part? "I can also tell by how you try to keep your innate sexiness in check that you've had a bit of experience with sex ... despite never having been married. But I don't care about that. I'm not looking for a nice, pure, chaste little wife. I want a woman who enjoys sex as much as I do and who knows what she wants and what she's doing in bed ... or wherever!"

OK ... you're not like Robert ... thank God! But this is getting a little too close for comfort! How the hell do you know me so well?

Bingo! "And I can tell from the way you're breathing heavier, how your face has flushed and how wide your eyes are that I'm pretty damn close ... or maybe even hit the nail on the head."

She was nervous again. Do you really mean what you said? How much should she tell him about her past and her relationship with the big man? If he really intended to marry her, she'd have to be honest with him at some point ... but she didn't have to tell him any of the details. She just hoped the simple facts wouldn't scare him away... "OK ... how the hell could you possibly know all of this about me from just staring at me across a crowded pub?"