"To Flame, with all my love. D."
Ellie Weston studied the elegant sprawling handwriting
across the bottom of a framed picture on the wall in her
aunt's bedroom.
She lifted a brow. Aunt Mable had probably purchased the
painting at one of those garage sales she'd enjoyed getting
up on Saturday mornings to drive forty miles into Knoxville
to attend. In fact, Ellie had noticed several new paintings
in all of the bedrooms, as well as the living room. However,
this particular one caught Ellie's eye because it wasn't one
she would have expected her unmarried seventy-year-old aunt
to be attracted to.
Ellie studied the painting some more. It was a colorful
piece of art that showed a faceless but very naked couple in
a risqué embrace. So much in fact, that upon closer study it
appeared they were having sex.
She felt a heated blush stain her face as she stepped back
and glanced around. It seemed that rather recently her aunt
had gotten a new bedroom suite—a king-size Queen Anne
four-poster bed in beautiful cherry mahogany. The bedroom
suite had a romantic flair that Ellie liked. And there was a
matching desk in one section of the room with, of all
things, a computer. When had her aunt entered the computer
age? Ellie hadn't been aware she'd owned one. If she'd
known, they could have been staying in contact by e-mail.
To Ellie, her aunt's two-story house had always seemed too
large for one person. It had a spacious layout that included
a huge living room, a bathroom, dining room and eat-in
kitchen downstairs, and four bedrooms and three bathrooms
upstairs. The wood paneling had been removed and the walls
had been painted an oyster white. The bright color actually
made the entire interior appear larger, roomier.
Had it been five years since she had last visited her aunt
here? Although she had stopped coming to the lake house when
she'd turned twenty-one, she and her aunt still got together
every year when she could convince Aunt Mable to come visit
her in Boston, where she had moved after college. It had
worked well for the both of them. It gave her aunt a chance
to leave the lake and visit someplace else, and it gave
Ellie a chance to not dwell on the most embarrassing memory
of all her visits here.
She had stopped speaking to her best friend Darcy for an
entire month after that kissing incident with Uriel
Lassiter, regardless of the number of times Darcy had told
her how sorry she was for getting carried away with her
excitement. In the end, Ellie had accepted full
responsibility for ever accepting Darcy's dare in the first
place.
And it was her fault that Uriel had kept his word and had
made sure their paths never crossed at Cavanaugh Lake again.
She had not seen him in ten years. He had been out of the
country, unable to attend her aunt's funeral last month, but
her parents had mentioned getting a nice floral arrangement
from him.
Ellie shook her head, remembering that Uriel's parents had
gotten a divorce two years ago. Who would have thought the
Lassiters would ever split? And according to her parents,
Carolyn Lassiter was now involved with a much younger man,
one only a few years older than her own son.
The last Ellie had heard, according to Aunt Mable before
she'd died, was that Anthony and Carolyn Lassiter were in
court, battling over who would get ownership of the lake
house. As a result of the bitter embroilment, the courts had
ruled that the house should be put up for sale and the
proceeds split. Aunt Mable had no idea who'd bought the lake
house next door and hadn't met her new neighbor before she'd
died.
Deciding she needed something to eat before she began
unpacking, Ellie left her aunt's bedroom and began walking
down the stairs, remembering how her aunt, who hadn't been
sick a day in her life, had died peacefully in her sleep.
Although Ellie knew she would miss her, she felt it was
befitting for her to go that way— without any type of
sickness to destroy her mind and body. And from what she
could tell, although Aunt Mable had probably been lonely at
times living out here at the lake, her aunt was happy. At
least she had appeared happy and content the last time Ellie
had seen her. And she had left everything she owned to her
one and only grandniece. Ellie was overwhelmed by such a
grand gesture of love.
She walked into the kitchen and immediately noticed the new
cabinets. It seemed her aunt had given the house a
face-lift, one that had been beautifully done. There were
new marble countertops, stainless steel appliances and
polished tile floors.
The drive from Boston had been a long one, and Ellie had
stopped by one of those fast-food places to grab a
hamburger, fries and a shake before getting off Interstate
95. Then, once she had reached Gatlinburg, she stopped at a
market to pick up a few things for dinner, deciding that
later in the week she would take an inventory of what she
would need for her month-long stay at the lake. It was a
beautiful day, the first week in August, and the first thing
Ellie intended to do tomorrow was open up the windows to air
out the place. The living-room window was huge,
wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling and provided a lot of
sunlight and a beautiful view of Cava-naugh Lake, no matter
where you stood or sat.
Crossing the kitchen floor, she opened the pantry and wasn't
surprised to find it well stocked. Her aunt was known to
prepare for the winter months well in advance. Settling on a
can of soup for dinner, she proceeded to warm it on the stove.
Standing at the kitchen sink, she glanced through the trees
to look at the house that used to be owned by the Lassiters.
She could easily recall how often she would stand in this
very spot, hoping for a glimpse of Uriel when he would come
outside. But she had discovered long ago that the best view
from her aunt's bedroom window was that of the backyard and
pier.
A half hour later, Ellie had finished her soup and was
placing her bowl in the sink when she glanced out the window
and saw that a car was parked in front of the house next
door. She lifted a brow, wondering if perhaps the new owners
had decided to spend some time at their lake place.
Ellie had parked her car in the garage, so they would not
know someone was in residence at her place. Her place. That
seemed so strange, when this home had belonged to Aunt Mable
for so long.
She was about to turn around and go upstairs to start
unpacking when something caught her eye. She drew in a tight
breath as she leaned closer toward the window to make sure
her eyesight wasn't playing tricks on her.
The man who had come to stand outside on the front porch,
while talking on a cell phone, was older-looking now, but
was just as handsome as she remembered. She was twenty-six
now, which meant he was thirty-one.
She might be mistaken, but it appeared he had gotten taller.
She figured his height to be at least six foot three. The
T-shirt he was wearing covered broad shoulders and his jeans
were molded to firm thighs. Her gaze slid to his face. The
color of dark chocolate, his features were and always had
been striking, a pleasure to look at.
Ellie scanned his face, from the thick brows that canopied a
pair of beautiful dark eyes, to the long, angular nose that
sat perfectly in the center of his face and more than
highlighted the sensuous shape of his lips, to the perfect
lines of his jaw. Strong. Tight. Every feature was totally
flawless. Him standing there in his bare feet made her think
of a chocolate marshmallow all ready to eat.
The thought of that made her stomach stir, generated a
tingling sensation even lower, and it made the nipples of
her breasts that were pressing against her blouse feel achy.
She quickly moved away from the window, crossed the room and
sat down at the table.
Uriel Lassiter had returned to the lake house, and the one
thing she knew for certain was that he hadn't made sure she
wasn't there.
Uriel threw his head back and laughed. He was still in
shock. One of his closest friends from college, who was also
one of his investment partners, had called to let him know
he was getting married. He just couldn't believe it. Who in
their right mind would have thought that there was a woman
somewhere capable of winning the heart of Donovan Steele.
The Donovan Steele. The man who always claimed he
wanted to be buried wearing a condom, because even then he
knew he would be hard.
Uriel had the pleasure of meeting Donovan's woman a few
weeks ago. With a PhD and a professorship at Princeton,
Natalie Ford had just as much brains as she had beauty. And
she was a beauty. That was one of the first things
Uriel had noticed that night when she had come storming into
the Racetrack Café, ready to give Donovan hell about
something. Evidently, their disagreement had gotten
resolved, since Donovan was now talking about a wedding.
"Hey, Don, we're going to have to get together when I return
to Charlotte," he said. "And we'll make it one hell of a
celebration. Have the two of you set a date yet?"
"We're having a June wedding," Donovan replied easily.
"After we marry, she'll take a sabbatical to write another
book and work on several projects with NASA. You can't
imagine how happy my family is."
Uriel could just imagine. Donovan, the youngest of the
Steele brothers, headed the Product Administration Division
of the Steele Corporation, and Uriel was Vice President of
Lassiter Industries, the telecommunications company his
father, Anthony Lassiter—CEO and president—had founded over
thirty-eight years ago.
Although both he and Donovan had major roles at their
family-owned businesses, years ago, right out of college,
they had partnered in a co-op. They had started out by
flipping real estate, and later moved on to small
businesses. The co-op had proven to be highly successful,
and they had moved on to even larger investments, like the
publishing company they had recently purchased.
Two years ago, Uriel's father had taken a leave of absence
due to stress and depression brought on when the wife he'd
been happily married to for over thirty-five years asked for
a divorce. That had forced Uriel to take over the day-to-day
operations of Lassiter Industries.
Uriel was glad his dad had finally snapped out of his
depression, decided life was too short to drown in self-pity
over a woman whom you still loved but didn't want you, and
had returned to Lassiter Industries sharper than ever. Uriel
had quickly turned things back over to him and decided to
take some much needed R and R. The lake house was his first
choice. His parents had been forced to sell it, so he
decided to be the buyer.
"While you were in Princeton yesterday, I signed my part of
the paperwork, so that the consulting firm could proceed
with our most recent acquisition," he said of the publishing
company they'd just purchased. "Now, you need to make sure
you swing by their office on Friday to put your John Hancock
on the papers, so they can officially begin going through
the books to see what areas we want to keep and those we
want to trim.
"I know Bronson has a race next weekend in Michigan, and I
promise you' ll be out of Manning's office in no time just
in case you're planning to go," he added, mentioning their
friend, Bronson Scott, who raced for NASCAR.
"Yes, I'm going and will be taking Natalie with me. I can't
wait to introduce her to the world of auto racing. What
about you? Will you be there?" Donovan asked.
"Umm, not this time. With Dad back at the helm at Lassiter
Industries, I'm staying here at the lake for an entire
month, and plan on getting in a lot of fishing. And I did
bring some papers with me on the publishing company, to do
my own evaluation. I'll let you know what I come up with,
and I'll compare it with the recommendations of those
consultants."
Less than five minutes later, Uriel was ending the call with
Donovan. He slipped his cell phone in the back pocket of his
jeans and decided to sit down on the porch swing his father
had built for his mom years ago.
His mom.
Uriel could only shake his head with sadness whenever he
thought of her and the pain she had caused his father. The
pain she had caused him. When his parents had first told him
they were getting a divorce, they'd shocked the hell out of
him. All it took was to see the hurt and sadness in his
father's eyes to know that a divorce hadn't been Anthony
Lassiter's idea.
Neither of his parents had wanted to talk about the reason
for the divorce, and had asked that he simply accept their
decision. It hadn't taken long for him to find the reason.
His mother had been going through a midlife crisis, which
had been evident when she'd hooked up with a boy-toy within
months of leaving his father. His mother, for God's sake,
was openly living with a man only six years older than him.
Carolyn Lassiter, he had to admit, was a beautiful woman at
fifty. The first time Uriel had seen her lover with her at a
restaurant, Uriel had wanted to smash the dude's face in. No
man wanted to think of his mother in the arms of any man
other than his father.
Her actions had not only nearly destroyed his father, but
had left a bad taste in Uriel's mouth where marriage was
concerned. That was the reason he had joined the Guarded
Heart Club, a private fraternity he and his five godbrothers
had established. Each had his own reasons for wanting to
remain a bachelor for life.
He was about to get up from the pier and go inside, when he
glanced through the trees at the house next door. He'd been
sorry to hear about Ms. Mable's passing and missed her
already. Whenever his parents would arrive for their
three-month summer stay, the older lady would be there ready
to greet them with a cold pitcher of the best lemonade he'd
ever drunk and a platter of her mouth-watering peanut butter
cookies.