A Compromising Affair. Gwynne Forster

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A Compromising Affair

      A Compromising Affair

      Gwynne Forster

      

www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      Dear Reader,

      I hope you have enjoyed the first four books featuring the Harrington family. Over the years, many of you wrote urging me to write another story about this engaging family, and so the saga continues. The first story, Once in a Lifetime, introduced the three brothers and featured Telford, the eldest Harrington. Following Telford’s romance, After the Loving profiled the story of fiery and stubborn Russ Harrington, the middle brother, whose sizzling but often rocky relationship ended in wedded bliss. The third story, Love Me or Leave Me, featured strikingly handsome yet enigmatic Drake, the youngest of the three brothers, who was serious-minded and devoted to his family and the woman he loved.

      In Love Me Tonight, Judson Phillips, a man searching for his biological parents, discovers that he is related to the Harrington clan and finally finds the family and loving kinship he’s always longed for. In this novel, A Compromising Affair, the Harringtons embrace Ambassador Scott Galloway, Judson’s best friend, whose difficult relationship with Denise Miller engages the entire family in an effort to bring the two together. I hope you have an opportunity to read all the books in the Harringtons series.

      I enjoy receiving mail, so please email me at [email protected]. If you’d like to reach me by postal mail, contact me at P.O. Box 45, New York, NY 10044, and if you would like a reply, please enclose a self-addressed, stamped envelope. For more information, please contact my agent, Pattie Steel-Perkins, Steel-Perkins Literary Agency, email [email protected].

      Warmest regards,

      Gwynne Forster

      ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

      To the memory of Walter Zacharius, founder of

       Kensington Publishing, whose foresight helped publish

       the first line of African-American romances. I shall always

       remember him with gratitude and affection.

      I am indebted to all of the wonderful people who’ve

       helped me in any way as I’ve breezed through life almost

       undeterred. To my dear mother, who taught me how to

       handle the few hard knocks that came my way; to my

       beloved husband, who fills my life with joy; and to my

       Heavenly Father, who gave me wonderful talents and

       many opportunities in which to use them.

      Contents

      Prologue

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Prologue

      Scott Galloway had one cardinal rule: he was never late. He abhorred tardiness. But owing to exceptional circumstances, he arrived at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport with only forty minutes to spare before he needed to fasten his seat belt on flight DL7777. His secretary had already checked him in, so he made a dash for security, and then suddenly stopped.

      He didn’t have a second to spare, but as he hurried through the terminal he noticed an old woman sitting beside two pieces of luggage. He couldn’t leave without finding out whether she needed help.

      “Are you alone, ma’am?” he asked her, glancing at his watch.

      “Son, I’ve been sitting here in this airport for forty-five minutes. The taxi driver brought my bags inside and left me, and I’m still here.”

      The air rushed out of him as he thought about the possibility of missing his flight. There was no way he was going to arrive late for his first assignment as an ambassador. But he thought of his beloved grandmother back in Baltimore and her insistence upon driving alone wherever she went.

      “I’ll be back in a minute, ma’am.” He found an airport security officer. “I’m about to miss my flight,” he told the man, “but a woman sitting over there needs help.”

      “What’s your flight number?” the man asked. Scott told him. “Come with me.” They went to where the old woman sat with her bags. “Do you know your flight number, ma’am?”

      “Flight DL7777. I get off in Copenhagen.”

      “Both of you come with me.” The security officer got a wheelchair for the woman, checked her in, gave her a ticket, rushed her through security and got both of them to the gate minutes before the door to the aircraft closed.

      Scott took his seat in first class, nearly out of breath but with the satisfaction one gets from having done a good deed. He enjoyed a pleasant flight and conversation with his seatmate, a Dane en route to Copenhagen, until sleep overcame him. The next morning the plane made its scheduled landing in Copenhagen, Denmark, and passengers began to disembark. He walked to the plane’s exit door along with his seatmate and waited until he saw the elderly woman.

      “There you are,” she said with a smile that reflected her delight in seeing him. “Give me your card, please.” She looked at it, and her eyes widened. “An ambassador? And you almost missed the flight helping me.”

      “We both made it, ma’am. I wouldn’t have felt right leaving you there.” He turned to the man who had been his seatmate. “Will you see that she gets a taxi?” He reached in his pocket for money to pay for the taxi.

      “No, please,” the Danish man said. “It will be my pleasure to see that she gets home safely.”

      Scott bade them goodbye and went back to his seat as the plane resumed the next leg of the flight. Late that day, he finally arrived in Vilnius, Lithuania—a city with a dreary, baroque facade—for the first time. When he stepped off the plane, the first secretary of the embassy greeted him.

      “Welcome, Mr. Ambassador, and welcome to Lithuania. We have been awaiting you with great anticipation.”

      “Thank you.” Scott shook his head. Mr. Ambassador, he thought. He had worked long and hard for the title, and he loved the sound of it. But as he looked around at the difference between what he saw and what he had left behind in the States, he wondered what his two-year tour would mean, personally and professionally.

      Several days later, he received a personal letter, and the backward-slanted handwriting on the envelope puzzled him. He opened it and read: