For a few seconds, the man only stared at her, obviously taking in her appearance from head to toe and pausing on her simple red dress which wasn’t shabby or disgraceful, but probably didn’t meet the standards of people who could afford a butler.

His questionable inspection strengthened her will. After suffering the loss of her husband, then her only sister, Kristen had learned life wasn’t always easy. With so much at stake, she had resolved to be tough, persistent, even downright pushy if she needed to be. If he was trying to shatter that confidence, he’d have to do much better than peer at her as if her clothes confused him.

He did.

He smiled.

One small upward movement of his lips shifted the angles and planes of his face, transforming him from a gatekeeper bully into Prince Charming at the ball. The brown eyes that were so suspicious became warm and welcoming. With his beautiful shiny black hair, black beard and absolutely perfect face, he was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. Over six feet, but not bulky or too well muscled, he wore his tuxedo with an easy grace, a languid sexuality. Her gaze ambling up his beautiful body and returning to his face, Kristen suddenly recognized he was gorgeous, and all her self-assurance fluttered away like the four-and-twenty black birds exiting the pie.

“Hello, Ms. Devereaux,” he said kindly, extending his hand to shake hers, setting off an odd chain reaction of tingles that started in Kristen’s stomach and spiraled downward to her toes.

When he released her hand, he smiled at her again. “Can I take you out to speak with Lily?”

“Lily?” Kristen asked, breathless and baffled. She didn’t have a clue who Lily was, but more than that, from this gentleman’s sexy smile she could tell he was a charmer—probably somebody well accustomed to having women fall at his feet. Though that should have automatically repelled her, Kristen felt another unexpected jolt of pleasure because the look on his face also told her he found her as attractive as she found him.

“Lily, the bride.” he said, grinning foolishly.

Kristen squelched the urge to close her eyes and groan out loud. The bride? Oh, for Pete’s sake! This guy wasn’t the butler. He was a member of a wedding party. She’d arrived just in time for a wedding! He thought she was an inappropriately dressed guest and from the way she was ogling him he also thought she was so smitten with him that she’d forgotten the bride’s name.

Great. Just great. Even before she explained who she was she’d made a fool of herself.

A smart woman would take herself and her inappropriate red dress into town to find a room for the night and return in the morning when all the festivities had died down. Sounded like a darned good idea to her.

“Actually I’m—”

“Here you are, Grant.”

Wearing a tuxedo and looking every bit as relaxed and regal as the gentleman at the front door, the man who interrupted Kristen appeared to be another member of the wedding party. As if only noticing Kristen, he gave her a polite, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I’m Evan Brewster,” he said, extending his hand to shake hers.

Suddenly realizing she was in the thick of things, Kristen’s heart thumped and her limbs turned to rubber, but she took Evan’s hand and returned his smile. “Kristen Devereaux,” she said.

“And I’m Grant Brewster,” Grant said, nudging his brother aside. “My brother Evan is married. I am not,” he said shamelessly. “Would you like to dance?”

“You don’t have time to dance, Grant,” Evan said. Even as he spoke a short blond woman, probably in her sixties, shuffled up behind him, carrying a baby.

The child wore a frilly pink dress, white tights and shiny black patent-leather Mary Janes. Before Kristen could notice any real detail like the color of the child’s eyes and whether she had the perfect pert nose of all Morris children, a tall red-haired woman appeared carrying another baby. This one was a boy. And behind that woman was a young, beautiful brunette, carrying another girl. This baby wore a dress identical to the dress the first baby wore, but this little girl’s hair was pitch-black. And she had brown eyes as dark and as clear as Grant Brewster’s.

Filled with wonder, Kristen only stared at the children while Evan Brewster spoke.

“There’s too much excitement outside for the kids, and all three of them could use a nap. But Mrs. Romani can’t handle them alone.”

“I can’t handle one baby alone,” the seasoned blonde in the black leather miniskirt reminded gruffly. “I’m not even trying with three.”

Grant sighed, but Kristen recognized his dilemma immediately. Both he and his brother were wearing tuxedos and the young woman holding the dark-haired little girl wore an autumn-orange gown. Obviously all three of them were in the wedding party.

And the babies were Kristen’s sister’s triplets.

Not only were they around the right age, ten months, but Kristen could see the green of Angela’s eyes in the first little girl, and the boy had Angela’s sandy-brown hair. These were Angela’s babies. She could feel it in her bones.

“I could help with the children.” Kristen heard herself say the words before she actually registered the thought. Because she was the triplets’ aunt, and because the Brewsters were obviously preoccupied, it just seemed to make sense for her to be the one to take the children off their hands.

“If you’re putting them down for a nap, all Mrs. Romani and I have to do is keep them company in the nursery until they fall asleep.”

Grant’s gaze traveled over to her slowly. He either couldn’t believe that she had offered, or he wasn’t sure he trusted her with the children.

From the long scrutiny she received from Grant and everyone else, Kristen was fairly certain it was the latter.

When he finally spoke, it was quietly. “Are you sure you don’t mind? You haven’t even had a chance to speak with Lily yet.”

“I can speak with Lily later,” Kristen said, not admitting she didn’t really know Lily. Now that she was in the room with the family who controlled the fate of her nieces and nephew, and up against the knowledge that they were rich strangers who didn’t have to trust her, certain truths about the situation became crystal clear. Once she told them who she was and that ultimately she wanted custody of these babies, they might not be as agreeable to letting her spend private time with the triplets as they were right now.

“They do need a nap,” Mrs. Romani reminded tersely and, as if on cue, the little boy began to cry. One of the girls rubbed her eyes.

“And we should be outside with Lily and Chas,” the woman in the orange gown said. “They can’t handle all the guests on their own.”

“I’m still working with the caterer,” Evan interjected. “At this rate it will be another ten minutes before we eat.”

“Okay. Okay,” Grant said with a sigh, turning to Kristen again. “If you’re sure you don’t mind, we’d appreciate your help with the babies.”

Kristen smiled. “It will be my pleasure.”

The brunette handed the dark-haired little girl to Kristen and it was everything Kristen could do to keep from gasping with pleasure. Carrying the little boy, Grant Brewster accompanied Kristen and Mrs. Romani upstairs into the nursery, which was clean and bright, and decorated with rainbows and angels.

She wanted to hold the baby forever. Grant instructed her to lay the child in her crib. Reluctant, but resigned because she didn’t want to draw any undue attention, she placed the little girl in her bed, slipped off her ruffly pink outfit and tights and dressed her in lightweight pajamas.

“What’s her name?” she asked quietly as the baby rolled onto her side, wrapped the rim of a blanket in her small fist and began to drift off to sleep.

“Taylor,” Grant whispered. “The little boy is Cody. The other girl is Antoinette. We call her Annie.”