скачать книгу бесплатно
Awakening Beauty
Amy J. Fetzer
MONEY CAN'T BUY EVERYTHING…It certainly couldn't buy Lane Douglas a way out of the scandalous rumors that followed her everywhere, leaving her no choice but to take on a new identity in a new town. But she never imagined this endeavor to disguise her heiress status would awaken her dormant desire.Suddenly she was embroiled in a wild tango of temperaments with high-powered playboy Tyler McKay, who was determined to have her in his bed. Lane was tempted beyond reason to take Tyler up on his offer and share the sheets in a blazing affair with this man who aroused her passion like no other. But would succumbing to Tyler's seduction bare their relationship to the tabloids and reveal her most closely guarded secret–or bring her everlasting pleasure?
“I Don’t Know Why You Hide Yourself, Lane, But I See It,” Tyler Said.
Lane wasn’t going to ask what he saw. It would erect barriers she didn’t want right now. That should have warned her, but she ignored the warnings.
“And instead of my dreams haunting me with what making love to you might be like, I have that to keep me company.”
She blinked. “You dream of me. Of us?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Lane didn’t think she could be more stunned. And more pleased. She’d given him absolutely no reason to think she wanted more, and here he was, making her feel incredibly sexy and wanted.
“I want to strip you down right now and taste every inch of you, but I won’t. We won’t. Not tonight.”
“That implies there will be another night.”
He smiled. “I was hoping you’d caught that….”
Dear Reader,
Thank you for choosing Silhouette Desire—where passion is guaranteed in every read. Things sure are heating up with our continuing series DYNASTIES: THE BARONES. Eileen Wilks’s With Private Eyes is a powerful romance that helps set the stage for the daring conclusion next month. And if it’s more continuing stories that you want—we have them. TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB: THE STOLEN BABY launches this month with Sara Orwig’s Entangled with a Texan.
The wonderful Peggy Moreland is on hand to dish up her share of Texas humor and heat with Baby, You’re Mine, the next installment of her TANNERS OF TEXAS series. Be sure to catch Peggy’s Silhouette Single Title, Tanner’s Millions, on sale January 2004. Award-winning author Jennifer Greene marks her much-anticipated return to Silhouette Desire with Wild in the Field, the first book in her series THE SCENT OF LAVENDER.
Also for your enjoyment this month, we offer Katherine Garbera’s second book in the KING OF HEARTS series. Cinderella’s Christmas Affair is a fabulous “it could happen to you” plot guaranteed to leave her fans extremely satisfied. And rounding out our selection of delectable stories is Awakening Beauty by Amy J. Fetzer, a steamy, sensational tale.
More passion to you!
Melissa Jeglinski
Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire
Awakening Beauty
Amy J. Fetzer
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
AMY J. FETZER
was born in New England and raised all over the world. She uses her own experiences in creating the characters and settings for her novels. Married more than twenty years to a United States Marine and the mother of two sons, Amy covets the moments when she can curl up with a cup of cappuccino and a good book.
For the
R.H.S. Southern Pearls
With whom secrets are sacred
Fun is learning to be really lazy
And dessert before dinner takes on new meaning.
I love y’all.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
One
It was moments like these that made Lane Douglas glad she’d changed her name. Elaina Honora Giovanni didn’t get involved with the police. Police reports meant giving your ID and putting the incident on the blotter, and that was open season for the press.
There was one particular member of the press corps out there just waiting to read her name somewhere and come hunting like a wolf for its prey.
And something as simple as a car accident would be enough to lead him right to her.
When the sound of screeching tires, splashing water and a loud solid crunch had registered, Lane knew before she whipped around that her car was the victim.
Attacked by a low-slung, silver sports car.
The impact popped open the trunk of her car.
“Buona fortuna as usual, Elaina,” she muttered to herself, dropping a box full of books on the porch of her shop, then rushing down the steps to the curb. Cold winter rain soaked through her clothes, matted her hair.
She could feel the tightly twisted bun on the top of her head sagging already.
Never good in a crisis, she looked first at the books in the trunk, then at the man still behind the wheel of his car. His loud cursing told her that he at least was uninjured. The car door opened and he climbed out, glaring at the damage before meeting her gaze.
“Are you all right?” he asked, and whipped out a cell phone.
“Fine, fine. I wasn’t in the car, remember? Are you okay?” she shouted over the rain.
“Yes, dammit.” He kicked the tire, then winced.
“Smart move,” she said.
He smiled at her, tipping the phone away for a second. “Tyler. Tyler McKay.”
She knew who he was. It was hard to live in Bradford, South Carolina, and not know the McKays. Rich, handsome and eligible didn’t begin to describe Tyler. With dark hair and light-blue eyes, he was the most noticed man in town. And that wasn’t even counting that long, lean body in a leather jacket and jeans.
She swung her gaze to their cars.
His hadn’t fared well against hers.
The sports car looked like an accordion halfway through a song.
Then she noticed the rain pouring over the crushed metal of her trunk like a stream over rocks and dribbling onto the carton of books.
“Oh, no, my stock!”
He barely glanced at it, still talking into the phone. Then he closed the cell phone and observed, “They’re ruined.”
She glared at him. “Yes, thank you for pointing that out. What was your first clue?” She tried shutting the trunk, but the twisted metal refused to oblige.
He took off his jacket and like Sir Walter Raleigh, covered the books. “How’s that?”
“A Band-Aid to a bleeding head wound.”
“Gallantry is never appreciated.”
“Perhaps when it’s sincere it would be.” She threw off his jacket and lifted out a soaked carton of books.
He picked up the other carton and walked behind her. “The cops will be here in a couple of minutes.”
He probably pulled someone’s chain for that quick service. When your family owned practically half the town, it wasn’t hard. “Good.” She unlocked the shop door and pushed inside.
“Look. It’s my fault.”
She paused at the doorway to look back at him. It was a mistake. He was too close, his front to her back, and she got a full dose of him in one flash. Vivid blue eyes pinned her, as if the chance to look at her would be snatched away any second and he needed to get in a good stare while he could. The little crinkles at the corners of his eyes spoke of countless smiles, and rainwater dripped off his dark hair onto his leather jacket.
When she caught a whiff of his warm woodsy cologne, Lane wanted to inhale deeply. Instead, she said, “The rain, the curve off Bay street and a slick road are to blame.”
He grinned. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?” he said softly.
That smile lit something inside her and made her pulse jump hard. Her chilled skin was suddenly warmer, and ignoring the way she reacted to him wasn’t as easy as she expected. He probably knew exactly the effect he had on a person. “Do you need my forgiveness?”
“No, but I’d like to have it. Being neighborly and all.”
That smile came again and she hurried into the shop and set the box on the counter before looking at him again.
“Then, yes, you’re forgiven. But I reserve the right to needle you.” She smoothed her hair back off her face. Her glasses steamed up and slid down her nose. “Although since I didn’t put any change in the parking meter, with my luck I’ll be getting the ticket.”
“You won’t. I promise.”
She arched a brow. “Falling on your sword for me? Now that’s gallantry.”
He smiled and Lane felt her insides shift and bow. This was so not good, she thought.
“And your name is?” he asked.
“Lane Douglas.” It tripped easily off her tongue after nearly two years, she thought. Sad that lying about who she was had become second nature. He held out his hand. She shook it once, quickly, then jerked back. Okay, so his skin was delightfully warm, and though she might have expected smooth and pampered, it wasn’t. She’d felt at least one callus. He probably got that golfing.
She turned her back to him, inspecting her sodden books and mentally calculating the cost to replace them.
“Nice place,” he said. “Is it new?”
“It’s been here for 150 years, Mr. McKay,” she said, although she knew he meant newly remodeled.
“Call me Tyler, please. Mr. McKay is my dad.”
She hunted in her purse. “I don’t want to get that personal. I may have to sue.”
His gaze narrowed. “I will make full restitution, Miss Douglas.”
She faced him, holding out her driver’s license and insurance card. “Good. Why don’t you hail the cops?” She nodded to the windows. The blue lights of the police car flashed against the watery glass.
Tyler stared at her for a second, then, with a sharp nod, took her information and stepped out onto the covered porch. She wasn’t worried about the police, for Lane Douglas had nothing to hide. While he talked to the officers, Lane tried to salvage the books, but there really was no hope. A water-damage sale was in order, and she’d just cut her losses as usual.
Like she’d done with her family.
Stay a Giovanni and live in a cage. Become Lane Douglas and live like a normal human being.
Hmm.
Tough choice.
Heiress to a winery or not.
Now if she could just get Tyler McKay out of her store without piquing his curiosity, she’d be fine. She’d spent the past year avoiding McKay—and anyone else in his family. There were quite a few, and they attracted the attention of the media like the Kennedys. And like the Giovannis. Tyler McKay was wealthy enough, affluent enough, to have traveled in the same social circles as her family. Not to mention that her face had once been plastered over every newspaper and tabloid in the country, and someone might recognize her.
Her identity had to stay a secret.
With the exception of her father, even her own family didn’t know where she was. She’d do just about anything to keep it that way.
