#1 New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Nora Roberts enchants again with this beloved classic about the passionate and headstrong MacGregor family.
The Matchmaking MacGregor
It worked with his granddaughters. Now Daniel MacGregor, powerful patriarch of the MacGregor clan, wants to see his three handsome and eligible—but stubbornly single—grandsons married. So he's found just the women to tempt, tease, and torture D.C., Duncan, and Ian all the way to the altar!
And you can be sure that if Daniel MacGregor wants something, he will stop at nothing to get it!
About the Author
Nora Roberts is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of more than 200 novels. She is also the author of the bestselling In Death series written under the pen name J. D. Robb. There are more than 400 million copies of her books in print.
Date of Birth:1950
Place of Birth:Silver Spring, Maryland
Read an Excerpt
The light poured through the tall windows and splashed on the violent slashes of sapphire and ruby. It washed over the man who stood before the canvas like a warrior at battle, wielding a paintbrush like a claymore.
He had the face of a warrior--tough, intense, with knife-edged cheekbones adding hollows, a mouth that was full but firmed in concentration. Eyes brilliant blue and icy cold beneath knitted brows the color of old mahogany.
His hair waved over his ears, curled over the collar of the splattered denim shirt he wore in lieu of a smock. He'd rolled the sleeves up, and the well-toned muscles of his arms rippled as he slashed the brush on canvas.
He was built like a warrior--broad of shoulder, narrow of hip and long of leg. His feet were bare, his wide and clever hands smeared with paint.
In his mind he saw explosions of emotion--passion and lust, greed and hunger. And all of this he fought onto the canvas while mean-edged rock pumped out of the stereo and thumped against the air.
Painting was a war to him--one he was determined to win, battle after battle. When the mood was on him he would work until his arms ached and his fingers cramped. When his mood was otherwise, he could and did ignore his canvases for days, even weeks.
There were those who said D. C. MacGregor lacked discipline. To those, he said who the devil wanted it?
As he clamped the brush between his teeth, switched to a palette knife to smear on a bold emerald, his eyes glittered in triumph.
He had it now. The hours of waging this battle were nearly done. A thin line of sweat slid down the center of his back. The sun beating through the windows was fierce now, and the studio was viciously hot because he'd forgotten to turn on the air-conditioning or open a window to the warm spring air.
He'd forgotten to eat as well, or check his mail, answer the phone or so much as glance out any of the wonderfully tall windows in his apartment. The energy swirled through him, as potent, as primitive as John Mellencamp's edgy, streetwise vocals blasting through the room.
When D.C. stepped back, the brush still clenched like a pirate's blade in his teeth, the palette knife like a dagger in his hand, that firm, somewhat forbidding mouth curved.
"That's it," he murmured. He put the brush in a jar of solution, began to absently clean the knife as he studied his work. "Need," he decided. He would call it simply Need.
For the first time in hours he realized the room was stuffy, the clashing and familiar scents of turpentine and paint thick in the air. He crossed the unpolished hardwood floor and shoved open one of the tall windows, took a deep gulp of fresh air.
It had been the windows, and this view of the C & O Canal, that had sold him on this apartment when he'd decided to come back to Washington. He'd grown up here, with eight years of his life spent in the White House as first son.
For a space of time he'd lived and worked in New York, and enjoyed it. He'd also lived and worked in San Francisco, and enjoyed that as well. But all through his restless twenties something had tugged at him. He'd finally given in to it.
This was home.
He stood by the window with his hands shoved in the back pockets of ragged jeans. The cherry blossoms were in full, glorious bloom; the canal sparkled in the afternoon light. Joggers plugged away along the towpath.
D.C. wondered idly what day it was.
Then, realizing he was starving to death, he left the music blaring and headed to the kitchen.
The penthouse was two levels, with the top designed for a master bedroom suite. D.C. had made it his studio and slept on a mattress tossed on the floor in the spare room. He hadn't gotten around to dealing with bed frames.
Most of his clothes were still in the packing boxes they'd been shipped in nearly two months before. He figured they worked efficiently enough as dressers until he found time to buy the real thing.
The main floor had a spacious living area ringed by more windows, still undraped. In it, there was a single sofa--the tags still on--a glorious Duncan Phyfe table with a half inch of dust coating its surface, and a floor lamp with a dented metal shade. The random-width pine floor was bare and desperately needed vacuuming.
The dining alcove off the kitchen was empty, the kitchen itself in shambles. What dishes and pots weren't heaped in the sink were still in boxes. He went directly to the refrigerator and was bitterly surprised to find it empty but for three beers, a bottle of white wine and two eggs.
He could have sworn he'd gone shopping.
Rummaging through the cupboards, he came up with a few slices of very moldy bread, a bag of coffee, six boxes of cornflakes and a single can of soup.
Resigned, he ripped open a box of cereal and ate a handful while debating which he wanted more, coffee or a shower. He'd just decided to make the coffee and take it with him into the shower when the phone rang.
He noted without much interest that his message light was blinking, and, munching dry cereal, he answered.
"There's my boy."
And those ice blue eyes went warm, that hard mouth went soft. D.C. leaned against the counter and grinned. "Hey, Grandpa, what are you up to?"
"Some would say no good." Daniel's voice boomed out. "Don't you return your messages? I've talked to your bloody machine half a dozen times in the last few days. Your grandmother wanted to fly down to make sure you weren't dead in your bed."
D.C. only lifted a brow. It was well known that Daniel used his serene wife whenever he wanted to nag the children.
"I've been working."
"Good. That's good, but you can take a breath now and then, can't you?"
"I'm taking one now."
"I've a favor to ask you, D.C. I don't like to do it." Daniel let out a heavy sigh and had his grandson's brow knitting.
"What do you need?"
"You won't like it--God knows I can't blame you. But I'm in a bit of a fix. Your aunt Myra--"
"Is she all right?" D.C. straightened from the counter. Myra Dittmeyer was his grandmother's oldest and dearest friend, his own godmother and an honorary member of the Clan MacGregor. D.C. adored her, and remembered guiltily that he hadn't been to see her since he returned to Washington six weeks before.
"Oh, she's fit and fine, boy. Don't, you worry about that. The woman's just as feisty as ever. But, well, she has another godchild. I doubt you remember the girl. You'd have met her a time or two when you were a lad. Layna Drake?"
Concentrating, D.C. got a vague image of a spindly little girl with hair like dandelion fluff. "What about her?"
"She's back in Washington. You know Drake's--the department stores. That's her family. She's working in their flagship store there now, and Myra ... well, I'm just going to say it straight out. There's a charity ball tomorrow night, and Myra's fussing because the girl doesn't have an escort. She's been at me to ask you--"
"Damn it, Grandpa."
"I know, I know." Daniel used his most long-suffering sigh. "Women, boy--what else can I say? They'll peck away at us like ducks until we just give in. I told her I would ask you. It would be a big favor to me if you'd see your way clear for this one night."
"If you and Aunt Myra are trying to set me up--"
Daniel interrupted with a hearty laugh that had D.C. frowning. "Not this time, boy. This girl isn't for you, take my word. She's pretty enough, and well mannered, but she'd never do for you. Too cool, to my way of thinking, and a bit of the nose-in-the-air sort. No, no, I wouldn't like to see you looking in that direction. And if you can't spare the evening, I'll just tell Myra I reached you too late and you already had plans."
"Tomorrow night?" D.C. scooped his fingers through his hair. He hated charity functions. "Is it black tie?"
"I'm afraid so." At the muttered oath in response, Daniel made sympathetic noises. "Tell you what, I'll just call Myra back and tell her you can't make it. No use wasting your evening with a girl who's likely to bore you to tears, is there? I doubt the two of you have a single thing in common. Better you start looking for a wife. It's time you were married and settled, Daniel Campbell. Past time. Your grandmother worries you'll end up starving in your studio, a lonely old man without a single chick or child. I've got another girl in mind. She's--"
"I'll do it," D.C. interrupted, purely in reflex. If Daniel didn't think much of Myra's goddaughter, it meant he wouldn't be on the phone constantly asking for relationship updates. Perhaps after this favor, his grandfather might ease off his relentless dynasty building--and though D.C. didn't hold out much hope for that outcome, it was worth a try. "What time tomorrow, and where do I pick what's-her-name up?"
"Oh, bless you. I owe you for this one. The affair's at eight, at the Shoreham Hotel. Layna's taken over her parents' town house on O Street." Examining his nails, Daniel rattled off the address. "I appreciate you getting me out of this little fix, D.C."
D.C. shrugged, upending the cereal box into his mouth as he traded family gossip with Daniel. And he wondered fleetingly where the hell he might have packed his tux.
"Oh, Aunt Myra, really." Layna Drake stood in her underwear, a waterfall of white silk over her arm and a mortified expression on her face. "A blind date?"
"Not really, sweetheart." Myra smiled. "You've met before--when you were children. I know it's an imposition, but Daniel rarely asks me for anything. It's just one evening, and you were going anyway."
"I was going with you."
"I'll still be there. He's a very nice young man, darling. A bit prickly, but still very nice." She beamed. "Of course, all my godchildren are wonderful people."
Myra continued to smile as she sat and studied her goddaughter. Myra was a small woman with hair as white and soft as snow. And with a mind as sharp and quick as a switchblade. When the moment called for it--as it did now--she could adopt a fragile and helpless air. The aged Widow Dittmeyer, she thought with an inner chuckle.
"Daniel worries about him," she continued. "And so do I. The man keeps too much to himself. But honestly, who would have thought when I was just casually mentioning tonight's affair and how you'd come back to Washington, that Daniel would get this idea in his head? I was just ..." Myra fluttered her hands helplessly. "I didn't know how to say no. I realize what an imposition it is."
Because her adored godmother suddenly looked so unhappy, Layna relented. "It doesn't matter. As you said, I'm going anyway." Gracefully, she stepped into her gown. "Are we meeting him there?"
"Ah ..." Gauging the timing, Myra rose. "Actually, he'll be here shortly to pick you up. I'll meet you there. Goodness, look at the time. My driver must be wondering what happened to me."
"I'll see you in an hour or so, darling," Myra called out, moving with surprising speed for a woman of her age. "You look gorgeous," she said once she was safely halfway down the stairs.
Layna stood in the unzipped column of white silk and heaved out a breath. Typical, she thought. It was just typical. Her godmother was forever shoving men into her path. Which left her with the sometimes irritating job of having to push them out again.
Marriage was something she'd firmly crossed off her life plan. After growing up in a house where manners took precedence over love, and casual affairs were politely ignored, Layna had no intention of finding herself in the same sort of relationship.
Men were fine as decoration, as long as she ran the show. And at the moment, her career was much more important than having someone to dine with on Saturday night.
She intended to continue her steady climb up the family's corporate ladder at Drake's. In ten years, according to her calculations, she would take over as CEO.
It was another show she intended to run.
Drake's wasn't just a department store, it was an institution. Being single, and remaining that way, insured she could devote all her time and energies to maintaining its reputation and its style.
She wasn't her mother, Layna thought with a faint frown marring her brow, who thought of Drake's as her personal closet. Or her father, who had always been more concerned with bottom-line profits than innovations or traditions. She was, Layna thought, herself.
And to her, Drake's was both a responsibility and a joy. It was, she supposed, her true family.
Some, she mused, might find that sad. But she found it comforting.
With a quick move, she zipped the dress. Part of her responsibilities to Drake's was to mingle, to attend social functions. To her, it was simply a matter of changing gears, from one kind of work to another. The after-hours work called on training she'd received throughout her childhood and was second nature to her now.
And the "job" often meant being linked with the proper escort.
At least this time her aunt Myra didn't appear to have any real interest in making a match. It would just be a matter of making small talk with a virtual stranger for an evening. And God knew she was an expert at such matters.
She turned and picked up the pearl-and-diamond drops she'd already set out on her dresser. The room reflected her taste--simple elegance with a dash of flash. The antique headboard of carved cherry, the highly polished surfaces of lovingly tended occasional tables topped with vases of fresh flowers or carefully chosen accessories.
Her home now, she thought with quiet pride. She'd made it her own.
There was a cozy seating area in front of a small marble fireplace and a dainty ladies' vanity displaying a collection of boldly colored perfume bottles.
She selected her scent, absently dabbing it on while she allowed herself to wish, just for a moment, that she could spend the evening quietly at home. She'd put in a ten-hour day at Drake's. Her feet hurt, her brain was tired and her stomach was empty.
Pushing all that aside, she turned to the cheval glass to check the line and fit of her gown. It was cut straight at the bodice and flowed without fuss to the ankles, leaving her shoulders bare. She added the short jacket, slipped into her shoes and checked the contents of her evening bag.
When the doorbell rang she only sighed once. At least he was prompt.
She remembered D.C. vaguely from childhood. She'd been much too nervous and impressed from meeting the president to notice much else. But she'd heard of him off and on over the years.
An artist, she reminded herself as she started downstairs. Of the modern school, which she didn't pretend to understand. Layna preferred the classics in all things. Had there been some scandal about him and a ballet dancer a few years back? Or had it been an actress?
Ah well, she thought. She supposed the son of a former president would make news over trivialities. And being the grandson of Daniel MacGregor would only intensify the spotlight. Layna was much happier working backstage herself.
And obviously the man couldn't be such a hit with the ladies if he couldn't even get his own date on a Saturday night.
Putting on her company smile, she opened the door. Only years of education by Swiss nuns, and the discipline they'd instilled, kept her mouth from dropping open.
This man--this very dangerous looking man in black tie, with hair the color of her prized dining-room table and eyes so blue they burned--needed his grandfather to find him a date?
"Layna Drake?" He had to have the wrong house, was all D.C. could think. This shimmering willow stem in white silk was nothing like the spindly little girl he remembered. Rather than dandelion fluff, her hair was spun gold curved sleekly around a face that might have been carved from ivory. Her eyes were a soft and misty green.
She recovered, her how-do-you-do smile never faltering as she offered a hand. "Yes. Daniel MacGregor?"
"D.C. Daniel's my grandfather."
"D.C. then." Normally she would have invited him in, played hostess for a short time and given them both an opportunity to get somewhat comfortable with each other. But there was something not quite safe about him, she decided. He was too big, too male, and those eyes were far too bold. "Well." Deliberately she stepped out and closed the door behind her. "Shall we go?"
"Sure." Cool, his grandfather had said, and D.C. decided the old man had hit the mark. Definitely an ice princess for all her glamorous looks. It was going to be a very long evening.
Layna took one look at the ancient and tiny sports car at the curb and wondered how the hell she was supposed to fold herself into it wearing this gown.
Aunt Myra, she thought, what have you gotten me into?
Table of Contents
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
SOOOOO GOOD! Nora does it again and again. Amazing style, easy reading, and captivates from the frist paragraph to the very last. The MC's are entertaining and so likeable, plus the plot is so good! This may be one of my favorites of hers so far. The dialogue is totally endearing as the three men take on the most important day of their lives. I highly recommend it.
If you are looking for a great love story about a Scottish family the MacGregor series is the series you want to read you can't just stop at one of the stories you have to read them all.
Wish they still had the button you could click to tell the publisher you wanted the book in nook format.
They r all the same after u read the first one. Only new names for each book
Picked up the Grooms after reading The MacGregor Brides. Such a great summertime or winter by the fire book to read. I love the feeling of family that is able to be felt by the reader. Brings back the basic need to have unconditional love by your family. Warm and will give you a chuckle or two.
The saga of the Macgregors continue with the three grandsons of head Matrioch, Daniel Macgregor. His interest this time is in D.C, Duncan, and Ian, his beloved grandsons. The Macgregor decides that they have turned out to be successful, independent, handsome lads and yet they are lacking in one important thing. What is that? Its time they each married and settled down and have babies. They don't agree of course, but that doesnt stop the Macgregor. So Nora Roberts takes us into the lives of these three hunky bachelors and how their grandfather manages to provide them with exactly what they are lacking in his usual sneaky way. It will make you laugh, cry, and wish you were one of the brides. Read this one and then quickly go out and buy the next one in the Macgregor series. You won't want to miss a moment of fun.
This book is one of the best sweet romantic comedy books around! kinda makes me want to meet one of the MacGregor boys. Anyway, if you like her other books, READ THIS ONE, and if you don't, read this one anyway, because it is sure to turn your head into reading more. it's an easy read and i finished it within one sitting. it's such a great book!!
Pretty fluffy set of three novellas. Somewhat interesting to read, but probably not my cup of tea. Inherited the book from a garage sale, and thought it looked interesting. Changed my mind. :0) Good if you go for this sort of thing.
It worked with his granddaughters. Now Daniel MacGregor, powerful patriarch of the MacGregor clan, wants to see his three handsome, eligible-but stubbornly single-grandsons married. So he's found just the women to tempt, tease and torture D.C. (aka Daniel), Duncan and Ian all the way to the altar. And you can bet Daniel will be sitting by with his feet up, a glass of whiskey in hand, smugly watching his plans unfold.I love this series from Nora Roberts!! There are several in this series and it doesn't matter where you start reading from, you can pick up the series anywhere (beginning, middle and/or end) and get caught up. I did happen to read the first one and it had one of the main characters working a casino on a ship, and since I LOVE to go on cruises, this one caught my attention right away. I can't remember the name of the book, but if you go to her website, I'm sure she'll have them. I recommend this for anyone who loves romance novels, with some sizzling steamy parts in them and some good humor along the way. And poor Daniel MacGregor, aka: The MacGregor, always seems to be trying to steal a cigar break when his wife happens to walk in to the room....ENJOY!!
Thrilling love stories - if the declarations of love give me a kick in the chest, I'm happy : ) And this one definitely did that! I'm charmed enough to try out more in her repertoire... (in addition to her In Death series, of course.) These are nice diversions.
The MacGregors... You can't top that IMO.
Nora Roberts writes contemporary romance at a level that most authors will never achieve. Even when it was the practice to write arrogant bullying heros with heroines who 'never knew it could be like this before' she gave her main characters equal footing.Very much enjoyable.
"D.C." I liked this one. Well, except for The MacGregor's "wedded and bedded" phrase that makes me cringe every time he says it. Loved the reverse psychology Daniel used to get D.C. interested in Layna, and the scene when D.C. "rescues" Layna from Daniel's matchmaking. Much fun."Duncan". Now this is an ambitious heroine. (see my rant about Heart of the Sea) And the story fits well into the novella length without making me feel like something was left out. "Ian". This one is About how what someone is thinking and what you think they're thinking can be vastly different things. Well, not completely, but it's certainly a theme throughout the story.
The next generation of MacGregors are encouraged to marry by their grandfather. Fun, light reading with no real surprises or shocks.
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Natasha. She has huge boobs and a sexy azz if u want to fuq her go to the second res and reply to Natasha.
Hi boys.. any of you want to have nook se.x (or real se.x) ( both)... my name is mackenzie.. i am a girl has blond hair blue eyes light skin right now but will get tan as soon as summer comes!!! Reply to mackenzie or mac... . P. S. She will be glad to have real (would like real se.x the most thou) or nook se.x (or even both)... its is up to you
This book is a compliment to the Nora Roberts book about the MacGregor Brides. Fun, easy read.
love happily ever after