Книга - Return To Rose Cottage: The Laws of Attraction

Return To Rose Cottage: The Laws of Attraction
Sherryl Woods


New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Sherryl Woods draws you into the world of Rose Cottage, where the D'Angelo sisters reunite with family and find lasting love.The Laws of Attraction High-powered attorney Ashley D'Angelo has finally burned out. After heeding the call of Rose Cottage, she believes she may have found the calm she so desperately needs and perhaps the chance at a happy ending with handsome Josh Madison. But if Josh isn't quite who he seems, is he still the man who can complete Ashley's joy? For the Love of PeteAfter hearing her sisters speak of the emotional healing to be found at Rose Cottage, Jo D'Angelo takes a chance and returns to the beautiful home. Only she knows the cottage is where she once loved and lost Pete Catlett. She's stunned to find Pete back there, as well, dealing with worries about his young son. Can the romantic wonder of the cottage reunite these two wounded souls?










Praise for the novels of New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Sherryl Woods

“Woods…is noted for appealing character-driven stories that are often infused with the flavor and fragrance of the South.”

—Library Journal

“…a whimsical, sweet scenario… the digressions have their own charm, and Woods never fails to come back to the romantic point.”

—Publishers Weekly on Sweet Tea at Sunrise

“What better way to welcome spring back into our lives than to be able to sit down with a book by a beloved author, a cool drink, and dreams of young love blooming?”

—Romance Review on Home in Carolina

“Woods’ readers will eagerly anticipate her trademark small-town setting, loyal friendships, and honorable mentors as they meet new characters and reconnect with familiar ones in this heartwarming tale.”

—Booklist on Home in Carolina

“Warm, complex, and satisfying.”

—Library Journal on Harbor Lights

“Sparks fly in a lively tale that is overflowing with family conflict and warmth and the possibility of rekindled love.”

—Library Journal on Flowers on Main

“Launching the Chesapeake Shores series, Woods creates an engrossing…family drama.”

—Publishers Weekly on The Inn at Eagle Point

“Woods is a master heartstring puller.”

—Publishers Weekly on Seaview Inn


SHERRYL

WOODS

Return to Rose Cottage






www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)



The Laws of Attraction


Dear Reader,

I hope you’ve enjoyed the first two entries in the Rose Cottage Sisters series. In this volume, you’ll meet two more D’Angelos—high-powered attorney Ashley and tender-hearted Jo.

Though the thought of the isolation of Rose Cottage practically gives Ashley hives, her sisters convince her it’s the best place to recover as her professional life unravels. Despite the family track record, which is two for two in finding love at Rose Cottage, the last thing Ashley expects to find is the perfect match while she’s nursing her injured pride. Josh Madison is Ashley’s exact opposite. He craves the peace and quiet, and he has a thing or two to teach Ashley about relaxation and the magic of love.

Unlike her three skeptical older sisters, Jo D’Angelo knows firsthand just how powerful a pull this place by the Chesapeake Bay can have when it comes to love. She met her first love there…and had her heart broken. But this is Rose Cottage, after all, and it definitely has enough mystique left to mend one more heart. In its cozy rooms, Jo remembers why she fell in love with Pete Catlett the first time, and he does everything in his power to see that she doesn’t get away a second time.

I hope you’ve enjoyed sharing the enchantment of Rose Cottage and its effect on the D’Angelo sisters. The truth is, wherever we find love will forever be touched with magic in our memories.

All best,









Prologue


The headline said it all: Guilty Man Freed.

Albert “Tiny” Slocum was a charming two-bit punk who’d hoodwinked his lawyer and an entire jury into believing in his innocence. It hadn’t helped that the case presented against him hadn’t been airtight. He walked out of the courtroom a free man with a clean slate, thanks to Ashley D’Angelo, who’d once been dubbed Boston’s “savior of the innocent.”

Of course, Tiny had spoiled his innocent act a bit when he’d had the audacity to turn to the jury in front of the judge and call them all suckers. That moment of pure cockiness had proved just what a psychopath he was. It had also earned him a promise from the prosecutor that he would find a way to put Tiny right back behind bars, maybe not for the crime of killing Letitia Baldwin for which he’d just been acquitted, but for some other heinous act he had already committed. There were bound to be some.

That appalling scene had also been the moment that every criminal defense attorney with a conscience dreaded. Ashley D’Angelo was no exception.

Ashley hadn’t much liked three-hundred-pound Tiny, but she had believed in him. He’d declared his innocence with such passion. He had a clever mind and a sharp wit that he’d used effectively to charm her into thinking he couldn’t possibly be guilty of such a barbaric crime. In the course of what appeared to have started as a botched purse-snatching, elderly, frail Letitia Baldwin had been beaten nearly to death by someone in an obvious rage at finding only a few dollars in her wallet. Tiny had professed to love and respect women. His own mother had backed him up, saying he was the ideal son. Ashley, who’d built her entire reputation on defending the innocent, had been taken in.

She’d also seen all the holes in the prosecution’s case. She’d spent months building a defense, but before she could spend a single second feeling triumphant over the not-guilty verdict, she’d been hit with the gut-wrenching realization that Tiny was indeed responsible for Letitia Baldwin’s massive injuries. The elderly woman had later died in the emergency room, changing the charge from assault to murder.

There wasn’t enough merlot in all the wine cellars in Boston to help Ashley get over that sickening image. The crime scene photos played over and over in her head, like a looping newsreel that never quit.

Later, in the dark of night, when she was lying sleepless in her fancy penthouse apartment, Ashley had finally admitted that on some level she’d known all along that she was defending a murderer—and doing it with the kind of aggressive tactics that were almost guaranteed to win an acquittal. She didn’t know how to defend a client any other way, which was one reason she’d always been very, very careful about whom she chose to represent. Her firm had allowed her that latitude because she’d racked up courtroom victories and a lot of press in the process.

But even as she’d planned Tiny’s defense, she’d suffered pangs of guilt. She’d been assailed by doubts. That’s why she’d run to Rose Cottage before the trial had begun. It had been eating at her even then. Not that she’d wanted to say it aloud or even allow the thought to form. She’d wanted to go right on believing in Tiny, because she had to in order to live with herself. In retrospect, she knew she should have quit the case the moment she’d had that first niggling doubt, but somehow winning had become more important than anything else, and she’d known she could win.

Now that the truth was out, she was sick of the law, sick of her own ability to twist it for her client’s benefit. Her self-respect was in tatters. How had her life come to this? This victory tarnished all the others, all the cases she’d been proud to win, all the cases that had earned her a full partnership at her law firm in record time.

Heartsick, she’d been locked away in her apartment for nearly twenty-four hours now, refusing to answer the phone, refusing to go to the door. She’d given a brief press conference, declaring that she was stunned after the debacle in the courtroom, then gone into hibernation to avoid the inevitable media frenzy over that disturbing courtroom spectacle.

Right now she couldn’t imagine ever showing her face again, but realistically she knew that the desire to hide would eventually pass. She was a fighter by nature. She just wasn’t ready for battle quite yet. She needed time to lick her wounds in private.

Unfortunately her sisters all had keys to her place, and not five minutes ago they’d arrived en masse to offer her comfort and support. Ashley appreciated the gesture, but it was wasted. She’d gotten a murderer off scot-free, and she was going to have to live with that for the rest of her life. It pretty much made a shambles out of the pride she’d always taken in her success.

“It’s not your fault,” her sister Jo said quietly, once they were all seated with coffee that Maggie had brewed from the gourmet beans she’d taught them all to appreciate. “You were doing your job.”

“A helluva job, isn’t it?” Ashley said grimly, lifting her coffee cup in a mocking toast.

“Stop it,” Maggie ordered irritably.

Maggie and Melanie had driven up from Virginia the minute they’d heard what happened in the courtroom the day before. They’d picked up Jo on their way into downtown Boston. Ashley had little doubt that they’d planned this gathering down to the last detail on the ride over.

They were seated in Ashley’s penthouse apartment with its expensive modern art on the walls and its sweeping panorama of the Boston skyline outside. At the moment, none of it meant a thing to Ashley, not even the loyal support of her sisters. Loyalty was a D’Angelo family trait. They would have been here for her, no matter what she’d done.

“Jo’s right. You were doing your job,” Melanie said emphatically. “Not everyone who says they’re innocent is, not everyone who’s accused is guilty, and everyone is guaranteed a right to a complete defense and a fair trial.”

How often had she said exactly that? Ashley wondered. She had believed it, too, but knowing that she’d been responsible for putting a violent, totally amoral man back on the streets made her sick.

Having been validated by numerous acquittals from juries, Ashley had gotten used to believing she was always right. She’d grown comfortable looking at the law and its loopholes more intently than the crime and its victims. Maybe that was sound law and a solid defense tactic, but she was beginning to question whether it had anything at all to do with justice.

“The man made a complete fool of me,” Ashley told her sisters. “How am I ever supposed to trust my own judgment again? How can anyone else? After this, if I said it was sunny, I’d expect people to check for a second opinion. And what client would want me, knowing that every jury is going to regard me with total skepticism from the outset? It’s hard enough to fight the evidence in most cases without the added liability of having a controversial lawyer.”

“This was one case out of how many?” Maggie asked, regarding her sister worriedly. “Stop beating yourself up. You have an excellent track record, Ashley. The papers describe you as brilliant, relentless, passionate about the law.”

“Not today,” Ashley retorted, gesturing toward the stack of newspapers on her coffee table. She’d read them all with a sort of morbid fascination, just as she’d watched every newscast. “Today they’re asking questions about how many other criminals I’ve helped to set free. I have to admit, I’ve been wondering that myself.”

Jo regarded her indignantly. She was the quietest of the D’Angelo sisters, the most sensitive, but when she felt strongly about something, she could make herself heard above their nonstop boisterous chatter.

“Do you really think for one minute that you’ve intentionally set out to free a bunch of criminals?” Jo demanded. “Because if you do, then you’re right. You need to get out of law. You need to find some other field where your mistakes in judgment don’t matter, where you can’t ever be fooled by a clever client.”

“I honestly don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” Ashley replied. Uncertainty was an unfamiliar feeling, and she didn’t like it. She’d always been the D’Angelo with a sense of purpose. She was the confident big sister who protected the rest of them. She didn’t like being the object of their pity. She didn’t like needing them, rather than the other way around.

“A day ago I would have said I was a champion for the truth,” she added. “Now I’m wondering if I’m not just a clever lawyer who’s easily duped by a little charm and just the right note of righteous indignation.” She stared bleakly around the room. “Look at all this fancy stuff I’ve accumulated because I’m good at my job. When I had to look the victim’s son and daughter in the eye today and tell them I was sorry, I felt like a failure and a fraud.”

Her three sisters exchanged a look, then seemed to reach some sort of silent, mutual decision.

“Okay, that’s enough self-pity, Ashley. Sackcloth and ashes don’t suit you. You’re coming back to Virginia with us,” Melanie said decisively. “A month or two at Rose Cottage is what you need. You promised Maggie you’d come back after the trial anyway. Now it’ll just be for a little longer, until you get your feet back under you.”

Ashley stared at her younger sister, horrified by the prospect of an entire week—much less a couple of months—away from work. Work defined her. Of course, today that definition pretty much reeked.

“No way,” she said fiercely. “I know you and Maggie thrived while staying in grandmother’s old cottage, but I’m not cut out for the boonies. A weekend is about as much as I can take.” She scowled at Maggie. “I thought I’d made that clear.”

“Hey, you’re the one who’s been carrying the key around with you as a talisman all these years,” Maggie reminded her. “Now it’s time you made use of it. Melanie’s right—you need to get away. You need to think. You can try to figure out what went wrong this time and stop it from ever happening again. Or you can decide to chuck law and do something else entirely. The one thing we won’t let you do is sit around and wallow in self-pity.”

“As if there are a lot of other career options open to me,” Ashley said bitingly. “I’m a lawyer. That’s all I know how to do.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “If you were bright enough to graduate from law school with honors, you can probably find another career in which to excel, if it comes to that. You have to take this break, Ashley. You owe it to yourself. For you to overreact like this, it’s obvious you’re burned-out. You’ve been working at a breakneck pace ever since law school in order to jump on that fast track at your law firm. It’s time to slow down and re-evaluate.”

“I agree,” Jo said, her jaw set stubbornly. “These two may only be around for a day or two to nudge you, but I’m here for the duration. And I promise I will pester you to death until you agree to take this vacation. In fact, if it were up to me, you’d take a six-month sabbatical.”

When Jo, the youngest of them, made such a firm declaration, Ashley knew she was defeated. “Two weeks,” she bargained, refusing to even consider as long a leave of absence as Jo was suggesting. “That’s all the peace and quiet I can bear.”

“Two months,” the others chorused.

“Three weeks,” she pleaded. “That’s it. That’s my limit. I’ll go nuts if I have to rusticate even one second longer than that.”

“Done. Three weeks it is.” Maggie and Melanie exchanged a grin.

“What?” Ashley demanded, instantly suspicious of their gloating expressions.

“We were sure you’d bargain us down to a week, max,” Maggie said. “You really must be losing your touch.”

Ashley started to chuckle, but it came out more like a sob. Wasn’t that exactly the point? She had lost her touch. And right this minute she couldn’t imagine ever getting it back again.




1


This didn’t have to be the worst thing that had ever happened to her, Ashley decided stoically as she stashed groceries into the refrigerator at Rose Cottage.

Two of her sisters and their husbands were close by, so it wouldn’t be like she was isolated among strangers. She could always order cable, so she could get Court TV and CNN. She’d brought a case of her favorite wine with her from Boston, along with a year’s worth of articles by some of the country’s foremost lawyers. She’d even tucked a few novels into her suitcases, books centered around trials, of course.

The key was going to be planning out her days, organizing every minute so she wouldn’t have time to think about what had happened in that courtroom back in Boston. Heck, that ought to be a snap. She excelled at organization. That was one reason she’d been able to maintain such a high caseload.

Dispersing those cases among the other partners for the duration of her absence had taken an entire week. She’d worked compulsively to make sure each attorney fully understood her clients’ needs. She’d briefed them so thoroughly, they’d seemed a little eager to see her gone.

After that frenetic pace, after loading up the car with all the essentials she couldn’t possibly live without and after the long drive, she was just starting to feel a bit of a letdown, that was all. It was to be expected. By morning she’d probably be climbing the walls…or calling the office every five minutes to make sure all the cases she’d left behind were being handled properly. She knew it wouldn’t take more than a day for that to wear thin with the already exasperated lawyers she’d left in charge. She would simply have to resist the temptation.

She put her laptop on the kitchen table and placed a stack of legal pads and pens right next to it. It had taken every ounce of willpower she possessed to leave behind her law books, but there was a lot of information to be found on the internet. She’d make a few notes on her pending cases and pass them along when the time was right.

The mere sight of those familiar tools made her feel better, as if her life hadn’t spun wildly out of control.

No sooner was everything in place, though, than Maggie and Melanie swept in the back door, took one look at her stash of supplies and loaded the lot into a shopping bag. They ignored every one of Ashley’s heated objections.

“What the hell do the two of you think you’re doing?” she demanded, trying to snatch things back as fast as they picked them up. “This is my house. Those are my things.”

“Actually it’s grandmother’s house,” Maggie reminded her.

“Don’t you dare start nitpicking with me,” Ashley commanded. “I will leave here.”

“No, you won’t,” Melanie soothed. “You know this is the best possible place for you to be right now.”

“And all your precious stuff will be at my place for safekeeping,” Maggie promised. “You can have everything back when you leave.”

“I need it now if you expect me to stay sane,” Ashley protested.

“Forget it,” Maggie responded. “And while we’re at it, hand over your cell phone.”

Ashley felt an unfamiliar hint of panic crawling up her throat. “Come on, Maggie,” she pleaded. “I want that stuff. And I’ve got to have a cell phone. What if somebody needs to reach me?”

Maggie gave her a wry look. “Can you honestly say there’s anyone back home besides Mom and Dad and Jo that you’re anxious to talk to right now? As for the rest of this, you only need it when you’re working.”

“And you’re on vacation,” Melanie reminded her, even as she checked out the stack of reading material Ashley had piled up on the counter. “Sorry. This needs to go, too.” She rummaged in Ashley’s purse and plucked out the cell phone.

Ashley frowned at the pair of them. “What the hell am I supposed to do for three whole weeks?”

Melanie chuckled. “You’re supposed to relax. I know it’s a foreign concept, but you’ll get the hang of it eventually.”

“I can’t sit here all day doing nothing,” Ashley protested. “I’ll go out of my freaking mind.”

“We thought of that,” Maggie soothed, handing over a bag filled with videos and paperback novels. “Comedy and romance.”

Fluff, nothing but fluff. Ashley moaned. “Dear God, what are you trying to do to me?”

“We’re trying to get some balance in your life,” Melanie said. “Of course, there’s a lot to be done in the garden now. The tulip and daffodil bulbs need to be thinned, and I bought some new ones to be planted out front.”

“It’s fall, not spring,” she reminded Melanie. “Aren’t you supposed to plant things in the spring?”

“Not bulbs. They come up early, remember? Trust me, this will be good for you. A little physical work in the sun will take your mind off your problems.”

“I don’t do physical work,” Ashley retorted, glancing at her perfectly manicured nails and trying to imagine them after gardening. She shuddered at the image.

“You go to a gym,” Maggie reminded her. “In fact, you’re as compulsive about that as you are about everything else. This will be even better for you. You can go for long walks. You’ll be breathing in all this fresh, salty air.”

“It smells like fish,” Ashley retorted, determined not to take pleasure in anything just to spite her hateful sisters. How had she gone all these years without noticing how controlling and obnoxious they were?

Clearly undaunted, Melanie bit back a grin. “Not so much in the garden. You’ll see. There are lots of wonderful fragrances out there. Grandmother saw to that and Mike and I recreated it just the way it was.”

Defeated, Ashley sat down at the kitchen table and rested her head on her arms. “I want to go home.”

“Don’t whine,” Maggie chided. “It’s unbecoming.”

Ashley’s head snapped up. “You sound exactly like Mom.”

“Of course, I do,” Maggie said. “We all do, with a touch of Grandmother Lindsey thrown in. They were our role models. The only thing missing is the Southern accent.”

Ashley thought back to the subtle lessons their grandmother had instilled in all of them on their visits to Rose Cottage. Cornelia Lindsey had been very big on manners. And, despite the fact that the D’Angelo sisters were growing up in Yankee territory, she’d wanted them to become Southern ladies. She’d taught them the importance of family and friendships, of generosity and kindness. Some of the lessons had stuck better than others.

Ashley relented. “Okay, no more whining,” she promised. “But you have to get me out of here before I go stir-crazy.”

“You just got here two hours ago,” Melanie reminded her, looking perplexed.

“And your point is?” Ashley retorted. “In my life, that’s a freaking eternity.”

“Okay, okay, we’ll go to lunch,” Maggie soothed. “No wine with lunch, though.”

Ashley stared at her. “Why the hell not?”

“Because you don’t need it,” Melanie said. “You’ll want a clear head for all that introspection you intend to do.”

“I need the wine for that.” Even as she uttered the words, Ashley heard the hint of desperation in her voice and knew it was a warning. She sighed heavily. “Okay, no wine.”

Once they were out of the house, Melanie and Maggie refused to let her wallow in self-pity. By the time they’d eaten a leisurely lunch and shopped for a couple of hours, Ashley had actually managed to laugh without restraint a couple times. She’d almost forgotten that this was the first of what promised to be way too many unstructured, unfulfilling days. When she remembered that, she shuddered.

Back at Rose Cottage, Maggie gave her a fierce hug. “You’re going to be fine.”

“I suppose,” Ashley conceded grudgingly. She didn’t believe that, not for a minute.

“And we’re expecting you for dinner tonight at seven,” Maggie added. “I’m making all your favorites. All those dishes Mom used to make for you before you started subsisting on salads.” She winked. “Play your cards right, and you can even have a glass of wine.”

Ashley laughed. “Now you’ve made it worth my while to come over and put up with more of these invigorating, if somewhat annoying, pep talks.”

Melanie patted her cheek. “Sweetie, we just want you to get yourself back on track. We promise we won’t hover, but we will be around if you need us.”

“I know and I’m grateful. I really am, even if I have been sounding like a total jerk.” She watched them go, taking her laptop, all those articles and her legal pads. She felt a mixture of relief and fear as they disappeared from sight.

Inside, she glanced at the kitchen clock. It was only two. What on earth was she going to do for five whole hours? What had she done on all those lazy summer afternoons years ago? It finally came to her that when she and her sisters hadn’t been out on the water, she’d gone into the backyard with a book in her hand. She’d gotten lost in amazing adventures in exotic locales.

Impulsively she reached into the bag that her sisters had left and withdrew a paperback without even glancing at the title or the author. Neither really mattered.

Before she could suffer a pang of regret or pick up the phone to call the cable company, she went outside to the swing facing the bay. It was wide enough for her to turn sideways and put her feet on the seat, and there was enough breeze to keep it in motion; just a slight, soothing back and forth.

She opened the book, read the first paragraph with the intention of hating it, then read the second with a more open mind. By the end of the page, she was hooked. She was reminded of the pleasure she’d felt years ago when her days had been lazy and undemanding and a good story had been all she needed to keep herself entertained for hours on end.

The best days had been the rainy ones, when she’d curled up on a chair in the living room or on the porch, book in hand, a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade beside her. She’d read incessantly, emerging only long enough for meals or to play cards or board games with her grandmother and sisters.

The satisfaction of that was coming back to her, page by page. In this book, the characters jumped off the page, the romance was steamy and the author’s voice was filled with intelligence and wit. Ashley lost herself in the story.

She was stiff and cramped when she finally turned the last page. Her cheeks were unexpectedly damp with happy tears. When was the last time she’d read anything that had affected her like this? Probably before she’d gone to law school. Since then she hadn’t had time for the simple pleasure of reading for entertainment.

For the very first time, Ashley saw this self-imposed banishment in a new light, as a real gift. Maybe if she went back to the girl she’d once been, to someone who was filled with hopes and dreams, she’d be able to discover where she’d slipped off track. Maybe she’d rediscover the humanity that had made her a good judge of people before she’d started to rely on cool calculation and mental agility to succeed.

Not that she intended to tell her sisters that she was beginning to see the benefits of this sabbatical. They’d gloat.

“Oh, my gosh, dinner,” she muttered, glancing at her watch. It was ten minutes till seven, and she’d never even taken a shower or changed. After all her grumbling about the mere thought of being isolated, if she was late for a party, she’d never hear the end of it.

“They’ll just have to take me as I am,” she said, laughing at the evidence that she was already adopting a whole new attitude.

That didn’t stop Ashley from grabbing her purse and car keys and tearing out of the driveway at her more accustomed frantic pace. She simply couldn’t be expected to change everything about her personality overnight.

Josh felt like a rebellious twelve-year-old running away from home and unwanted responsibilities. As he neared the Chesapeake Bay, he could smell the tang of salt water in the cool September air. As he got closer to his family’s longtime second home by the water, there was also a faintly fishy scent that he’d come to acquaint with summer. His mother had balanced that with a garden filled with fragrant blossoms, which were just beginning to fade as summer moved into autumn.

When he turned at last onto the final leg of the journey, a long, winding country road that led from White Stone toward Windmill Point, he spotted a dozen or so brand-new homes interspersed with the old cottages and other recently completed vacation homes. The new additions were huge, dwarfing their quaint and occasionally run-down neighbors, but large or small, they all shared the same incredible view of the Chesapeake Bay and its inlets.

He was almost to the cutoff to Idylwild, the small clapboard cottage with its neat green shutters and sweeping porch, when a fancy car being driven toward him way too fast took the turn ahead of him wide. The driver spotted him too late and tried to overcorrect. Josh cut the wheel in the opposite direction, but the crunch of metal against metal was inevitable, the contact jarring but not enough to cause injury.

He leapt out of the car in full lawyer mode, then backed up a step at the sight of the tawny-haired driver of the other car suddenly bursting into tears. At once all he could think about were broken bones and soft, bleeding skin.

“Are you okay?” he asked, leaning in the driver’s window close enough to catch a faint whiff of something exotic, sexy and expensive. The combination dealt a knockout punch to his belly and put the rest of his all-too-male senses on full alert.

Brown eyes, shimmering with tears, glanced up at him, then away. Her cheeks blazed with unmistakable embarrassment. Josh studied her, trying to figure out why he felt an almost immediate connection to her, as if they’d known each other before. But that couldn’t be, of course. He would have remembered any woman who looked like this. Except for the tear-streaked face, she was as sleek and polished as any of the society women he’d come to know in Richmond. The clothes were expensive, if wrinkled. Gold-and-diamond studs winked from her ears.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “It was my fault.” She was already fumbling in her Gucci bag, apparently digging for her driver’s license, car registration and insurance card. “Dammit, dammit, dammit! Why can’t I ever find anything in here?”

“It’s okay,” Josh soothed, sensing that she was about to burst into another noisy round of sobs that would claw at his gut. “There’s no rush. We’re in the country. Folks around here don’t get all worked up over a little fender bender. We can take care of the formalities in a minute. How about some bottled water? I just picked up a case of the stuff. It’s warm, but it might help. I have a first-aid kit, too. We can take care of that scrape on your cheek.”

She self-consciously touched her hand to her face, then stared at the blood with shock. She immediately turned pale.

“Hold on,” Josh said. “Don’t you dare faint on me. It’s nothing. Just a tiny little cut.” He glanced inside the car, trying to figure out if anything was broken. He couldn’t see any glass that would explain the injury.

Without waiting for a reply, he ran back to his ridiculously oversize but trendy SUV, retrieved a bottle of water, some peroxide and antibiotic cream, then went back. By then, the other driver had emerged from behind the wheel, all five-ten or so of her, with narrow hips and endless legs and just enough curves to make a man’s blood stir with interest.

“I’m Josh,” he said when he could get his tongue untangled. He handed her the water. He poured the peroxide on a cotton ball and reached over to touch the wound, but she immediately tried to take the cotton from him.

“I’ll do it,” she said.

“You can’t see what you’re doing,” he said, holding firm and cupping her chin in his other hand, then daubing the peroxide on the scrape. He bit back a grin when she winced even before he’d made contact.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked when he’d cleaned the wound.

She frowned at him.

“You never did say what your name is,” he reminded her as he smoothed on antibiotic cream, trying not to linger on her soft-as-silk skin.

“Ashley.”

He heard the unmistakable Boston accent. “Just visiting the area?”

“For three weeks,” she said emphatically, as if that were two-and-a-half weeks too long. “Are you a local?”

“I like to think of myself as one,” he said. Richmond might be where he lived, but this was the home of his heart. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it until he’d made that final turn onto this road leading to the cottage where he’d spent some of the happiest summers of his life. He’d finally felt as if all the problems that had sent him scurrying down here were falling into perspective.

“Either you are or you aren’t,” she said, studying him with a narrowed gaze.

Amused by her need for precision, Josh said, “I’ve pretty much grown up around here.”

“Then you probably know the sheriff or whoever we need to call to report this,” she said.

“Let’s take a look and see if it’s even worth reporting,” he suggested. He examined first her car and then his own, concluding that they were both in need of new front bumpers and maybe a paint touch-up, but that both cars had escaped serious damage.

“Look, why don’t we call this even?” he suggested.

“Because I caused it,” she said, grimly determined to take responsibility. “I should deal with all the damages.”

“That’s why we carry insurance,” he corrected. “You deal with your company. I’ll deal with mine. It might not even be worth it, though. A body shop could fix things up for next to nothing.”

“But I should pay whatever it costs,” she insisted.

Josh couldn’t seem to stop himself from suggesting, “Then have dinner with me one night while you’re here. We’ll pick someplace outrageously expensive, and you can buy if it’ll make you feel better.”

She murmured something under her breath, but finally nodded.

Josh studied her curiously. “What did you say?”

“I said you’re obviously not a lawyer, or you’d be all over this, milking it for every dime you could get in damages.”

He laughed. “That’s just about the nicest compliment anyone’s paid me in months,” he said, deciding then and there that not being a lawyer for a bit suited him just fine. It wasn’t that far from the truth. Wasn’t that precisely why he’d come here, to figure out if he wanted to be a lawyer anymore with all that it entailed, including his expected engagement to his boss’s daughter?

“Do you have a phone number, Ashley? I’ll call you about dinner.”

She jotted it down, but before she handed it to him, she added something else, “If you change your mind about my paying for the damage to your car, I won’t fight you.”

Josh glanced at the paper and saw that she’d written, “My fault. I owe you,” then signed her name in the kind of illegible scrawl usually used by physicians.

“A confession?” he asked, amused. “Think it would hold up in court?”

“It would if I wanted it to,” she said flatly, then lowered herself gracefully into her car, giving him one last intoxicating view of those incredibly long legs. “See you around.”

“Oh, you can count on that,” Josh said, fingering the piece of paper she’d given him.

He stood watching until she was out of sight, then tucked the piece of paper into his pocket and gave it a pat. Coming home was turning out to be one of the smartest decisions he’d made in a long time.

And ironically the past couple of minutes had already given him insight into one of those important decisions he was here to consider. If he could feel this powerful tug of attraction to a woman who’d just creamed his beloved car, then the very last thing he ought to be considering was marriage to Stephanie Lockport Williams. First thing in the morning, he’d have to call and make it clear to her that despite her father’s wishes, they had no future.

And right after that, he’d call the mysterious Ashley and invite her out for a crab feast. There was no better way to get to know a woman than watching her handle the messy task of picking crabs. Stephanie had flatly refused to touch the things, which should have told Josh all he needed to know months ago.

Something told him that Ashley would show no such restraint. In fact, he had a hunch she’d go after those crabs with all the passion and enthusiasm of a local. There was something wildly seductive in watching a woman hammer away at the hard shells, then delicately pick out the sweet meat and dip it in melted butter, then savor every bite. He thought of Ashley’s lush lips closing around a chunk of backfin crabmeat dripping in butter, and concluded it was definitely a spectacle he could hardly wait to see.




2


“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Ashley muttered as she sat with Maggie on the porch of the farmhouse Maggie and Rick lived in a few miles from Rose Cottage. It had an orchard out back, the trees laden down with ripe apples. The sun was beginning to drop in the western sky, splashing everything with orange light. It was so serene, it should have creeped Ashley out, but she had other things on her mind, like that ridiculous accident she’d caused by driving too fast on an unfamiliar winding road. For a split second she’d lost her concentration, and that had been enough to nearly cause a tragedy. There would have been no adequate defense for it.

“What is wrong with me?” she asked her sister plaintively.

Maggie glanced at her husband. Both of them were fighting a grin.

“What?” Ashley demanded. “Why are you two laughing at me?”

“We’re not laughing at you,” Maggie rushed to assure her. “It’s just that the saint is discovering she’s human. It’s a wonderful thing to see. I, for one, never thought it would happen. I can’t wait to tell Melanie and Mike when they get here.”

Ashley gave her sister a sour look. “You know, if you keep this up, you’re going to make me sorry I agreed to come to Virginia for five minutes, much less three weeks,” she told Maggie irritably. “I can go back to Boston first thing in the morning, you know.”

“But you won’t,” Maggie said.

Ashley found her confidence annoying. “Oh? Why is that, Ms. Know-it-all?”

“You made a deal with us. If you break it, then we’ll know you’re in some sort of emotional meltdown that probably requires hospitalization.”

Ashley scowled. “Not even remotely funny.”

“I didn’t mean it to be,” Maggie assured her. “You need this sabbatical, Ashley, and one way or another we’re going to see to it that you take it. Rose Cottage is much cheaper and a whole lot more pleasant than some quiet sanitarium in a tranquil setting with shrinks watching your every move.” She let that image sink in, then asked, “Don’t you agree?”

Ashley stared hard at her sister to see if she was joking. She didn’t appear to be. “You wouldn’t do that to me.”

“If it was the only way to assure that you get some rest, we would,” Maggie retorted emphatically. “Don’t test us. That’s how worried we are about you.”

“Mom and Dad would never allow it,” Ashley said.

“Are you so sure of that? They’re worried sick, too.”

“I’m not having a damn breakdown, though you could easily drive me to one,” Ashley said, barely keeping a grip on her temper. The last thing she needed to do was give them ammunition to have her committed. And they would do it. She could see that now. There was no mistaking the resolve in Maggie’s eyes.

“You’re not having one yet,” Maggie agreed. “But you’re on the verge, Ashley. None of us have ever seen you strung this tight before. Everyone has their limits. What happened in court was only the final blow. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard for too long.”

“I think we need to change the subject before you really get on my nerves,” Ashley told her sister. She deliberately turned to Rick. “Do you know of a Josh around here?”

Rick looked as if he didn’t really want to be drawn into the conversation, even if the subject seemed to be neutral. Ashley could hardly blame him. When he shrugged, she turned back to Maggie. “What about you? Do you know a Josh?”

“Is that the man you hit?” Maggie asked.

Ashley nodded.

“No last name?”

“He didn’t offer one,” Ashley said, then remembered the exchange of notes. Maybe he had written it down. “Wait. Here it is. Madison. Josh Madison.”

Maggie’s expression turned thoughtful. “There were some Madisons who had a summer place not far from Rose Cottage. I think Grandma knew them. Maybe he’s related to them. That would certainly explain why he was on that road. Melanie and Mike might know him.”

“I suppose that’s possible,” Ashley said. “But he said he was local.”

“Maybe he is now,” Rick finally chimed in. “But I don’t recall the name, and I talk to a lot of people around the area. I could ask Willa-Dean next time I go to Callao for lunch. That girl knows everybody, especially the single men.”

Ashley shook her head. “No need. I doubt we’ll even cross paths again, unless he changes his mind about me paying for the damage to his car.”

Maggie grinned. “Why so interested, Ash? Is he gorgeous? Sexy?”

“Nice,” Ashley said, refusing to be drawn into a discussion of Josh Madison’s appeal. Nice was safe. Nice didn’t stir up hormones.

Unfortunately, Josh Madison was a bit more than nice. As rattled as she’d been by that stupid accident, she’d noted that he was sexy and gorgeous, just as her sister had guessed. Not that Ashley cared, of course. Men were the last thing on her mind these days. But accepting that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate a fine specimen when one happened to cross her path, even if this one was clearly not her type.

After all, he’d been dressed in a faded T-shirt and equally faded jeans, with boat shoes and no socks. It wasn’t a look that appealed to her. She was drawn to men in designer suits and expensive imported footwear. She was drawn to men who reeked of ambition and success. Josh Madison looked…normal. Just an everyday guy. Ashley didn’t do ordinary.

Not that she’d done all that well with the overly ambitious type, either. The one serious relationship in her life had been with a man every bit as driven to succeed as she was. He’d worn all the right clothes, gone to all the right places, been seen with all the right people.

But Drew Wellington turned out to have this nasty habit of lying to her, hiding things from her such as the supposedly unimportant detail that he had a high-school sweetheart back home whom he saw every chance he got. He’d also failed to mention that his old flame was pregnant with his child.

Not that he intended to marry her. She wasn’t suitable, he’d tried to explain to Ashley when she’d discovered his tawdry little secret. Ashley was the woman he wanted to marry.

She wasn’t sure which part of that had made her sickest, the lying or the snobbery, but the betrayal had all come flooding back to her in that courtroom a week ago when she’d realized that her ex and Tiny shared a common lack of familiarity with the truth. What was it about her that made people think they didn’t have to be honest with her? Did they think she was too stupid to discover the lies, or that she wouldn’t care if she did?

Either way, she definitely hadn’t done so well with her one foray into love of the proper kind. Still, that didn’t mean she was ready to start compromising her ideals for a man utterly lacking in style and ambition, even if that did make her into the very kind of snob she claimed to despise.

Which was unfortunate, she concluded when Melanie and Mike arrived not five minutes later with Josh Madison in tow. Her heart promptly began the kind of enthusiastic staccato rhythm she hadn’t felt in years. Josh had cleaned up nicely. His hair was damp and spiked with gel, his cheeks were smooth and he’d changed into chinos and an expensive knit shirt with a designer logo emblazoned discreetly on the pocket. He was still wearing the disreputable-looking boat shoes, though, and no socks.

“Look who we found,” Melanie announced cheerfully. “We ran into Josh on our way over and invited him to tag along. He’s our neighbor. You guys must remember the Madison house. And Josh remembers Grandma Lindsey. Hope you don’t mind, Maggie, but we didn’t want to leave him on his own. I know you always cook enough for a mob.”

Ashley frowned at Maggie, who was struggling unsuccessfully to contain a chuckle.

“I think it’s great,” Maggie enthused. “I just hope you didn’t run into Josh the same way Ashley did earlier. I doubt his car could take another encounter like that.”

Melanie’s eyes widened as she turned from Josh to Ashley and back again. “Ashley is the person who hit you?”

Ashley turned her scowl on Josh. “Couldn’t wait to spread the word, I see.”

“Actually, I didn’t volunteer anything. Mike noticed the dent and asked about it,” he said. “Would you have wanted me to lie to him?”

She sighed at that. “Of course not.”

He regarded her speculatively. “I hope it’s not going to make you uncomfortable having to sit across a dinner table from me?”

Ashley frowned. He seemed to be relishing the prospect of causing her a little discomfort. “Absolutely not,” she lied.

Josh grinned. “You can always think of it as that penance you were so anxious to exact from yourself earlier,” he suggested. “Though don’t think tonight will get you off the hook on that other dinner you promised me. I’m counting on that.”

Maggie and Melanie stared at them, clearly fascinated by the exchange. They were going to make way too much of this, Ashley could tell. She needed to defuse their speculation as quickly as possible.

“Whatever,” she said with a very deliberate shrug of indifference. “I can stand it if you can. I’m used to uncomfortable situations.”

“She’s used to staring down prosecutors,” Melanie explained. “She’s very good at it.”

Josh’s grin spread. “A lawyer. I should have guessed. It explains a lot.”

Normally she would have challenged him on a remark like that, but Ashley was in no mood to be drawn into the kind of passionate debate that might be misinterpreted by her sisters as some sort of chemistry. Instead, she reminded them mildly, “But right now, as I have been repeatedly told, I’m on vacation.” She turned her gaze on Maggie. “By the way, I’m starved. Didn’t you say something about dinner when you invited us over here, Maggie? Or was that some bait-and-switch thing?”

“See, there you are in lawyer mode again,” Maggie retorted. “How are we supposed to forget if you can’t?”

Ashley could see her point. “I’m working on it,” she swore. “I really am.” But something told her it was going to be easier said than done.

When she glanced at Josh, she caught a commiserating look in his eyes. It seemed as if he actually under stood what she was going through, and that made her wonder if she’d totally misjudged him. Then again, maybe that kind of sensitivity merely went along with being nice. Neither were traits with which she had a lot of experience. Drew had been smart and savvy and sophisticated, but definitely not nice. Her male colleagues were brilliant and clever but rarely nice, and hardly ever sensitive or considerate.

“Something tells me there’s a story behind that,” Josh said quietly, his expression thoughtful.

“Not one we’re going to get into tonight,” Maggie said decisively. She turned to Ashley. “Since you’re so anxious to eat, Ashley, you can help me in the kitchen. Rick, get Josh a glass of wine.”

Ashley reluctantly followed her sister into the kitchen. She knew precisely what was coming, especially since Melanie was right on her heels.

“First day in town and you find yourself a keeper,” Maggie taunted as she handed Ashley another place setting.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ashley retorted. “We don’t know anything about him.”

Melanie beamed. “That’s why it’s so nice that you have all this time on your hands to change that.”

“Even if I were interested—and I am definitely not saying that I am—what makes you think Josh doesn’t already have a girlfriend?”

“Oh, please,” Maggie said. “Have you seen the way the man looks at you? It’s as if he can’t quite believe his luck.”

“Drew used to look at me like that, too,” Ashley commented wryly.

“No, he didn’t,” Maggie responded, her voice laced with derision. “Drew looked at you as if you were a particularly valuable possession he’d acquired along with his BMW and his Rolex.”

Ashley couldn’t deny Maggie’s take on the past, but she rolled her eyes anyway. “Could we just get through dinner with the least amount of humiliation possible? Do not try to foist me off on Josh like some pathetic thing who needs to be entertained.”

“I won’t have to,” Maggie said confidently. “You’ll see. Josh strikes me as the kind of man who’ll take things into his own hands if he gets the slightest bit of encouragement from you. Hasn’t he already gotten you to agree to have dinner with him?”

“Yes, but—”

“I rest my case,” Maggie said, her triumph plain.

“I am not here to encourage some man I’ve barely met,” Ashley insisted.

“I agree with Maggie. Just open yourself up to the possibilities,” Melanie pleaded. “That’s all we’re asking. Now go set a place for Josh, then sit down right next to it. Maggie and I will get dinner on the table.”

Ashley laughed despite herself. “You two never give up, do you? Just because you landed fantastic men doesn’t mean everyone has to settle down to be happy. It’s possible to be single and totally fulfilled.”

“Maybe,” Maggie conceded with obvious skepticism, “but you can’t blame us for wanting you to be as happy as we are. You nudged me and Rick together. Now it’s my chance to return the favor. Melanie’s, too.”

“I don’t consider this a favor,” Ashley said, giving it one last try.

Maggie smiled serenely. “Something tells me you will,” she said.

Melanie nodded in agreement, then added with a grin, “Eventually, anyway.”

Josh noted that Ashley had managed to seat herself at the opposite end of the table from him, much to her sister Maggie’s very evident dismay. He, on the other hand, was a little relieved. The woman overwhelmed him. He literally needed some space between them so he could catch his breath.

Besides, he hadn’t made that call to Stephanie yet. It was a point of honor with him that he needed to officially break things off with her before he moved on. If Ashley were too close, he might toss aside his better judgment and try to figure out some way to crawl directly into her bed before the night was over. That kind of reckless, breakneck pace was a very bad thing, especially for a man who had supposedly taken some vacation time to make some tough decisions about his future.

He’d always been a plodder, taking things slowly, thinking them through. He’d just about thought the whole engagement thing to death, which was one reason—thankfully—that it had never happened.

The woman sitting opposite him made him want to seize the moment, which was a very scary proposition. When he’d agreed to come to dinner tonight, he’d had no idea that Ashley would be here. The hop, skip and jump of his pulse when he’d spotted her dented car in the driveway had been way too telling. He was about to throw caution to the wind. The length of the dinner table and the presence of four obviously fascinated observers were the only things standing in his way.

Well, those things and that look of distress in Ashley’s amazing eyes, which had turned a golden topaz in the candlelight. She was clearly vulnerable and hurting. It evidently had something to do with her career. Since his own was likely to go up in flames as soon as he broke things off with Stephanie, he could relate to Ashley’s professional uncertainty.

Brevard, Williams and Davenport was one of Richmond’s premier law firms. Josh had been proud when they’d hired him straight out of law school, then promoted him quickly. But it had been increasingly evident that his future there was directly tied in to his relationship with Stephanie. If he broke up with her this weekend, he was very likely to be fired on Monday. The thought didn’t terrify him nearly as much as he’d expected it to. In fact, when he could ignore the churning in his gut, it seemed to give him an amazing sense of freedom.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Mike said. “You sure you didn’t bump your head in that accident?”

Josh shrugged off his concern. “Just thinking about how life takes a lot of unexpected twists.”

Mike glanced over at Melanie, and his entire expression softened. “Indeed, it does.”

“How long have the two of you been married?” Josh asked him.

“Four months.”

“Long engagement?”

Mike grinned. “Hardly. We just met in March.”

Josh stared at him in shock. “You seem like you’ve known each other forever.”

“I guess that’s the way it is when you meet the right woman,” Mike said. “What do you think, Rick?”

Rick blinked and dragged his gaze away from his wife. “What?”

Mike chuckled. “Josh and I were discussing whirlwind courtships.”

Rick laughed. “You’re definitely asking the experts. Maggie and I were together for, what, a couple of months?”

Josh’s jaw dropped. “And you’ve been married how long?”

“About four weeks,” Rick said. “The D’Angelo women don’t waste a lot of time. A smart man seizes the moment when they’re around.”

Josh fell silent, staring at the three women at the opposite end of the table, their heads together. How had he missed it? Of course, the three women were more than just friends. They were sisters. Melanie had even said as much when she’d referred to their grandmother Lindsey earlier. He’d been fooled by the different last names or maybe by the fact that they’d all grown up into such vibrant but distinctive women.

As girls, they’d been cookie-cutter versions of each other, varying only in height. Oh, they’d been gorgeous enough to catch his attention and leave him tonguetied, but they’d worn their hair in similar styles and dressed in variations of the same shorts and halter tops. Back then, there had been no mistaking the family resemblance. In fact, only those who knew them well could keep them straight. Josh hadn’t known them at all. They’d been on the periphery of his life, a taunting reminder of what an outsider he was.

Josh studied them quizzically, then asked Mike, “Isn’t there another sister?”

“Jo,” he said at once. “She still lives in Boston. You knew the D’Angelo sisters, growing up?” Mike asked.

“Not really. It’s more like I knew of them. We didn’t exactly travel in the same circles.”

“But didn’t Melanie say your family knew their grandmother?” Rick asked.

“Fairly well, as a matter of fact,” Josh admitted. “But you know how kids are. They find their own friends, especially in the summertime around here.” Determined to move on, he asked, “How did you meet them?”

“Maggie and I met in Boston,” Rick said. “I stepped in at the last minute to handle a photo shoot for her magazine. She came down here, and I followed her.”

“Melanie and I met here,” Mike explained. “She was staying at Rose Cottage for a bit.” He grinned. “Sort of the way Ashley’s staying there now for a little R & R.”

Rick gave Josh a considering look, then added pointedly, “History tends to repeat itself at Rose Cottage.”

Not this time, Josh thought. Not that he wasn’t attracted to Ashley. He was. Not that he didn’t intend to see more of her while she was here. He did.

But his life was in chaos, and something told him hers was, as well. That made it a very bad time to be thinking in other than the most immediate terms. Dinner. A few laughs. That kind of thing.

When he glanced around the table, he noticed that four pairs of eyes were regarding him way too speculatively. The only eyes that counted, however, were watching him with unmistakable wariness. Clearly, Ashley was no more inclined to be railroaded into a relationship than he was. And wasn’t that all that mattered?

“Maybe you and Ashley should get together to work out a settlement for the damages from the accident,” Maggie suggested without any attempt at subtlety.

“We’ve taken care of that,” Ashley replied at once.

To his shock and dismay, a streak of totally unfamiliar perversity sliced through Josh. “I’ve been thinking maybe we were a little too hasty. Neither of us was thinking too clearly.”

“I was thinking just fine,” Ashley retorted. “I offered to pay for all the damages since it was my fault. That offer still stands.”

“As a lawyer, you should know an offer like that could open you up to exorbitant demands,” Josh countered. “You’ve admitted guilt. You couldn’t possibly have been thinking clearly or you would never have done such a thing.”

“I was taking responsibility for my actions,” she retorted. “You turned me down.” Her gaze narrowed. “Are you changing your mind? Suddenly feeling the onset of whiplash, perhaps?” she inquired tartly.

If it would keep the fire in her eyes, Josh would have prolonged the argument as long as possible, but they were being watched with total fascination by everyone else at the table. He didn’t want to encourage the meddlers.

“Possibly,” he equivocated, rubbing his neck. Sure enough, sparks of indignation lit her eyes.

“Well, be sure to let me know when you’ve made up your mind,” Ashley replied, a hint of sarcasm in her tone. “Why is it that men can never make a decision about anything?”

“Hey,” Rick and Mike protested in unison. “Don’t turn this into some sort of gender war and drag the rest of us into it,” Mike went on.

“Uh-oh,” Maggie said. “Watch your step, Ashley. You’re about to unite these men in a common cause. Something tells me it won’t be pretty.”

“Doggone right,” Josh agreed, suddenly eager to stir the pot. “Men are not the problem. We think logically and rationally.”

“Oh, please,” Ashley said. “What was logical or rational about letting me off the hook so easily?”

“You were clearly shaken up. I was trying to be a nice guy,” Josh retorted.

“Ha!” Ashley muttered.

“Women hate that,” Rick advised.

“They see it as a sign of weakness,” Mike confirmed.

“Well, you can be sure I won’t make that mistake again,” Josh vowed. “I thought you were a reasonable woman.”

“I am. You’re the one behaving like an idiot. You’re no more injured than I am.”

He frowned at her. “You’re calling me an idiot?”

“You bet I am.”

As the exchange ended and her declaration hung in the air, Ashley suddenly blinked and looked embarrassed. “What just happened here?”

Maggie grinned at them. “Offhand, I’d say we just witnessed an explosion of hormones. I, for one, found it rather fascinating.”

“Stimulating,” Melanie added, casting a pointed look at her husband.

Before Josh could utter a desperate denial, Ashley whirled on her sisters. “Eat dirt,” she muttered, then stood up. “I have to go.”

Josh was way too tempted to follow her. Instead, he merely winked as she passed. “Drive safely,” he murmured under his breath.

She stopped and scowled at him. He waited for her to utter the curse that was obviously on the tip of her tongue, but she fought it and won.

“Lovely seeing you again,” she said sweetly. Her voice, thick with Southern syrup, nonetheless lacked sincerity.

“I’m sure we’ll cross paths soon,” Josh said. “Hopefully without colliding.”

Though he had to admit, as he watched her walk away, that bumping into Ashley D’Angelo, literally or figuratively, was starting to make his life a whole lot livelier.




3


Fresh from his second disconcerting, intriguing encounter with Ashley D’Angelo, Josh knew he couldn’t delay the inevitable talk with Stephanie for another minute. That explosion of hormones Maggie had referred to had been very real. It had been a couple of hours now, and he was still half-aroused when he thought about it. Stephanie had never had that effect on him. They’d been friends who’d understood what was expected of them and accepted that real passion wasn’t part of it.

Even as he reached for the phone, he acknowledged that it was probably a conversation he should be having face-to-face. Since he didn’t plan on being back in Richmond for a while, though, he wanted to get it over with now, tonight. Something told him that by morning, or at least by the time he had his next encounter with Ashley, he should be totally free from the past.

Fortunately, Stephanie was a night owl. Even though it was after eleven, he knew she’d be awake. What he hadn’t expected, though, was the sound of a party in full swing in the background when she answered. She sounded carefree and happy, happier than he could recall her being in a long time. Somehow when they were together, she always seemed subdued and thoughtful.

“Steph, it’s me,” he said.

“Josh, sweetheart, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you this late.”

“Evidently.” He had no idea why he couldn’t seem to keep the edge out of his voice. He wasn’t jealous. No, if anything, he was relieved. Maybe this odd mood he was suddenly in simply had to do with the possibility that now wasn’t the best time to have this conversation, after all. “Look, you obviously have company. Maybe I should call back in the morning.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s just a few friends kicking back on a Friday night. I’ll just go into the other room, where I can hear better.”

The music and laughter grew more muffled. “There. That’s better,” she said. “How’s it going? Are you having a good time? Are you getting all that deep thinking done?”

“Some of it,” he said.

“I wish you’d let me come with you. Maybe I could have helped. You’ve always liked bouncing ideas off of me in the past.”

“Normally that’s true,” he said, “but not this time. I had to work this out on my own.”

“You’re thinking about us, aren’t you?” she asked, sounding resigned but not surprised.

Josh had always known that Stephanie was smart and intuitive, but he hadn’t expected her to cut right to the chase on this one. “Yes,” he admitted. “I think we need to talk about where we’re headed.”

“Okay,” she said.

“I owe you better than a conversation on the phone, but I didn’t want to wait till I get back.”

“Come on, Josh, just say it and get it over with,” she chided.

“I know your father is counting on us announcing our engagement soon and that we’ve been talking about it for a long time now,” he began. “But I think you and I both know that he’s more enthusiastic about the idea than either of us are.”

His words were greeted with silence.

“Stephanie?”

“What are you saying, Josh?” she asked.

He sucked in a deep breath and forced himself to be brutally honest. “That we’re all wrong for each other, Steph. We both know it. We’ve been trying to make the pieces fit, but they don’t. This isn’t your fault, Stephanie. You’re amazing. It’s me. I want something else. I wish I could explain it better than that, but I can’t. I only know this isn’t fair to either one of us. I need to let you go, and I feel sure you’ll be far happier with someone else.”

“I see,” she said softly.

She didn’t sound half as brokenhearted as he’d feared she might. “I’m sorry,” he apologized.

“No need to be,” she said, sounding oddly relieved.

Josh was astounded that she was taking his announcement so well. He’d expected tears or histrionics. In fact, he’d been dreading a messy emotional scene, if only because he was throwing a monkey wrench into her father’s plans for the two of them, and Stephanie was, first and foremost, a dutiful daughter who understood what was expected of her.

“Do you mean that?” he asked, still not quite believing that the breakup could go so smoothly.

“To be honest, I’ve seen this coming,” she confessed. “It’s something I should have done myself, but I’ve never had the courage to defy my father. I guess I owe you for making it easy.”

“You’re really okay with this?” he asked.

“Were you hoping I’d fight you?” she asked, sounding amused.

“No, of course not, but—”

She laughed. “No buts, darling. You’re off the hook. I’m weak, not stupid. To be perfectly honest, I’ve known for months now that we’re not a good match, not for the long term. I guess I was hoping that Daddy was right, because you are so damn nice.”

Josh was getting a little tired of being nice tonight. Nice guys usually finished last. Sometimes he wondered if that wasn’t why he was so uncomfortable in a courtroom. He hated going for the jugular. He preferred mediation to confrontation.

“You’re probably letting me off too easy,” he told her. “I doubt your father will be half as understanding. Would you like me to explain all this to him?”

“Forget about Daddy. I’ll talk to him,” Stephanie assured him. “I won’t let him kick you out of the firm over this.”

“You don’t need to go to bat for me,” Josh said. “I’ll handle your father if I decide I want to stay on.”

“If? You’re thinking about quitting your job?” she asked, clearly far more shocked by that than by his decision to break up with her.

“Actually I am,” he admitted. “But I’m trying not to do anything hasty.” He was a plodder, after all. He liked knowing that all his ducks were in a row before doing anything too drastic. It had taken his immediate and intense attraction to Ashley to get him to make this decision. Otherwise he might have drifted along indecisively for a while longer just because being with Stephanie was comfortable.

“I do love you, you know,” she told him. “Just not the way you ought to be loved. And I want you to be happy.”

“I want the same for you.” He recalled the lively sounds of the party. “Something tells me you won’t have to wait too long.”

“What about you?” she said. “What kind of woman do you really want?”

An image of Ashley resurfaced for about the hundredth time since they’d met that afternoon. He wasn’t about to mention it, though. He wasn’t that foolish. Stephanie might be taking the breakup with a great deal of grace, but he doubted she’d like knowing that he’d found a replacement already.

“I’ll let you know when I’ve figured that out,” he promised.

She laughed. “Please do. Will you call me when you get back to Richmond?”

“Sure, if you want me to.”

“I’d like us to stay friends,” she told him with unmistakable sincerity. “You’re the best one I ever had. I’m not sure I realized that until tonight, when you set me free.”

“Then this is a good thing for both of us?” he asked, still worried a bit by her calm demeanor.

“It really is,” she assured him. “Now go out there and find the woman who’s really right for you, and I’ll dance at your wedding.”

“You’re amazing,” he said sincerely.

“I know,” she said, laughing. “I think I’m just now figuring that out, too.”

Josh hung up and sighed. Relief washed over him. That had gone a thousand times better than he’d anticipated. If only all the other decisions on his plate would go half as smoothly.

Ashley had scrubbed the kitchen floor, cleaned out the refrigerator, rearranged the cupboards and even considered the bags of bulbs that Melanie had surreptitiously left on the back steps. She might be going stir-crazy, but she wasn’t quite ready for a close encounter with the garden worms just yet.

Still, it was barely midmorning, and she’d already done every single thing she could think of to do inside the house. She’d passed her limit on coffee for the morning and eaten a bran muffin and a banana, which was more than she’d usually consumed by this hour.

Normally by late morning, she’d been to the gym and had already been at her desk for hours. There was little question that exercise was what she needed now to take the edge off the stress.

Suddenly she recalled the kayak that used to be stored in what had once been a garage but was too small to accommodate anything other than the smallest of today’s vehicles. She found the key to the lock and opened the creaky door. Sure enough, the kayak was still inside, along with its paddle.

Pushing aside all the boxes that had been stored around it, she finally managed to drag the kayak out. She hosed it down, then dragged it to the water’s edge. She found a baseball cap on a hook in the kitchen, retrieved the paddle from the old garage, then climbed into the kayak and shoved off, praying that paddling was like riding a bicycle, something one never forgot.

At first she stayed close to shore to be sure the kayak was still seaworthy and hadn’t sprung any leaks over the years. When she was finally satisfied that it wasn’t going to sink and that she still had the hang of paddling it, she grew more ambitious.

The September sun was beating down on her bare shoulders and glaring off the water. She wiped the sweat off her brow and paused long enough to twist her hair into a knot on top of her head and stuff it under the cap, then began to paddle in earnest.

It took Ashley some time to find her rhythm and longer to move at a pace that provided real exercise. When her arms and shoulders started aching, she let the kayak drift, leaned back and closed her eyes. The sun felt good now that it was being tempered by a breeze. Her body felt energized and, in an odd way, lazy at the same time. Maybe this was what relaxing felt like. If so, she might be able to get used to it eventually.

A part of her immediately rebelled at the thought. She wasn’t going to get used to this. She needed excitement and challenges. This was just a little break, a chance to regroup.

To prove her point, she sat up straight, grabbed the paddle and put herself into the task of rowing back to the cottage. She was not about to turn into some goalless, lazy slacker, not even here. Not even for three weeks.

Her sisters might have taken away her legal pads and her pencils, but the stores in town would have more. Suddenly it seemed vital that she get new supplies and put her nose to the grindstone. Pleasant as it was, she was wasting time out here.

Her enthusiasm waned almost as quickly as it had peaked when she realized that she had no real work to do. She was supposed to be thinking, contemplating her future, but the idea held no appeal at all. She could make lists and prioritize all she wanted to, but something told her she would only be floundering right now. Her brain really did need a break.

Well, hell, she thought, letting the paddle fall idle as tears stung her eyes. She brushed at them impatiently and took up the paddle again. Dammit, she was not going to wallow in self-pity. If she couldn’t excel at law right now, then she could excel at kayaking, she decided with grim determination. Maybe the world had enough lawyers anyway…at least for a few more weeks.

His situation with Stephanie resolved, Josh had finally let his thoughts turn to Ashley. It had taken him a ridiculously long time the night before to get it straight that all three women in the room were D’Angelos and that they were the granddaughters of Mrs. Lindsey, the woman who’d been a good friend of his own grandmother.

As a kid, he’d envied the boisterous activity that went on just up the road at Rose Cottage. He’d been a bit of a nerd, far too studious for his own good, and way too much of an introvert to ask to be included in the impromptu gatherings that seemed to be going on all the time whenever the four granddaughters were in town. Besides, those four beautiful girls had drawn admirers from at least two counties. Josh hadn’t stood a chance.

He’d matured a lot in the years since then, in both attitude and physique. He’d found a sport he loved— tennis—and a gym he hated but used regularly. A brilliant student, he’d gained confidence in law school, then added to it when he’d been selected for Richmond’s most prestigious law firm. Beautiful women no longer intimidated him. Nor did money and power.

Knowing that he could have it all—lovely, well-connected Stephanie Lockport Williams, the money and the power—had somehow been enough. Discovering that he didn’t want any of it had been the shocker.

That’s why he was here, in fact, to wrestle with himself over how incredibly stupid it might be to throw it all away. He was having far fewer second thoughts today, now that the breakup with Stephanie had gone so smoothly and left him feeling so thoroughly relieved. It had made him wonder if the timing wasn’t precisely right for a lot of dramatic changes in his life.

He was up at dawn, anxious to get out on the water, where he could while away the morning fishing…or pretending to. He rushed through breakfast, put away the few clothes he’d brought along, then made a quick call to his folks to let them know he was settled in.

Eventually, armed with bottled water, a sandwich, a fishing pole and bait, he headed for the bay where it lapped against the shoreline at the back of his family’s property. He climbed into the seaworthy old boat at the end of the dock and pushed off. Paddling just far enough away from shore to sustain the pretense that he was at sea, he dropped anchor, cast his line, then leaned back, his old fishing hat pulled low over his eyes.

He was just settling down, content with the warmth of the fall sun against his bare skin, when something crashed into the boat, tilting it precariously and very nearly sending him over the side. The splashing of icy water all over his heated skin was as much a shock as the collision.

Oddly enough, he wasn’t all that surprised when he peered over the bow to see Ashley with her face buried in her hands, the paddle floating about three feet away from her kayak.

He couldn’t help chuckling at her crestfallen expression. “You know, if you wanted to see me again, all you had to do was call. If you keep ramming into me like this, I’m not going to have any modes of transportation left.”

“Obviously I am completely out of control on land or sea,” she said in a tone that bore an unexpected edge of hysteria.

Josh stared at her. “Are you okay?”

“Sure. Fine,” she said at once, putting on a brave smile to prove it.

She was reasonably convincing, but Josh wasn’t buying it. She might be physically fine, but there was something else going on, something that had to do with this vacation she was taking with such obvious reluctance. Her sisters had alluded to it last night.

“Maybe you should come aboard,” he suggested, not liking the idea of her being on the water alone when she was obviously shaky. On closer inspection, he thought he detected traces of dried tears on her cheeks. Maybe if he focused on her turmoil, he could put off his own decisions.

“I have my kayak,” she protested.

“We can tie it up to the boat.” He gestured toward the paddle that was drifting rapidly away. “You won’t get far without that paddle, anyway.”

“Story of my life lately,” she muttered, but she held out her hand to take his, then managed to gingerly climb into the rowboat. “You’re very brave, you know.”

“For taking you in like this?”

“Exactly. I’m obviously a danger to myself and everyone around me.”

“Something tells me that’s a relatively new condition,” he said, keeping his gaze away from her, hoping she would feel free to tell him what was going on that had her behaving with what he suspected was uncharacteristic carelessness.

“I suppose,” she conceded.

To his disappointment, she stopped right there. He decided not to press. Instead he asked, “Know how to bait a hook?”

She regarded him skeptically. “With what?”

“Shrimp.”

She nodded. “That’s okay, then. If you’d said worms, I’d have jumped overboard and swum home.”

“Squeamish, huh?”

“No, absolutely not,” she said at once, rising to the challenge with predictable indignation.

“Some sort of animal-rights stance?” he taunted.

A faint flicker of amusement lit her eyes for the first time since they’d met.

“Hardly,” she said. “They’re just… I guess messy de scribes it.”

“Then I can assume you won’t be cleaning any fish we catch for supper?”

“I don’t expect to catch any,” she said, even as she gingerly dangled the baited hook over the side of the boat, then studied the line with total concentration. After a minute, she glanced at him and asked, “Do you do this every day?”

“Every day I can. I get some of my best thinking done out here on the bay.”

“You’re not bored?” she asked wistfully.

Josh bit back a grin. Maybe that was the trouble with Ms. Ashley D’Angelo. She didn’t know the first thing about relaxing. Even now on this beautiful fall day surrounded by some of the most glorious scenery on earth, she was obviously edgy and uptight.

He studied her intently for a minute, trying not to let his gaze linger on those endless bare legs. He certainly couldn’t spot any other flaws. Maybe he could help her work on the relaxation thing.

“I’m never bored,” he told her. “I like my own company.”

“No significant other?”

“I’ve been seeing a woman,” he admitted. “But I’ve just recently reached the conclusion that she’s not significant. She’s a great woman, just not right for me. We broke it off last night.”

“Last night?” she asked, obviously startled.

“I called her after I got home from dinner at your sister’s.”

She seemed to be wrestling with that information. He waited to see if she’d ask if there was a connection, but she didn’t.

After studying him with undisguised curiosity, she eventually asked, “How did you conclude that the relationship was over?”

“I was faced with fishing or cutting bait, so to speak. It was time to get married…or not. I couldn’t see myself with her forever. Fortunately, as it turned out, she couldn’t see that, either.”

“Is there something wrong with her?”

“Absolutely not. She’s beautiful, intelligent, well-connected. She’ll be a dream wife for the right man.”

“But not you?”

“Not me,” he confirmed.

“If beautiful, intelligent and well-connected aren’t right for you, then what kind of woman do you want?”

“I’m still figuring that out,” he admitted. “Offhand, though, I’d have to say one who’s comfortable in her own skin, someone who knows who she is and what she wants.”

“And this woman isn’t like that?”

“She is.” He shrugged. “But the sparks weren’t there. Who knows why that happens? Seems to me that love is just as mysterious as all the philosophers have claimed it is.”

She seemed to deflate a little at that. If they hadn’t just met, Josh would have said she was actually disappointed.

“That whole bit about being comfortable with who and what you are would definitely let me out,” she said a little too brightly.

“Going through an identity crisis?” Josh asked, relieved to finally have something specific to work with to try to figure her out.

“Yes, that’s exactly it.”

“Welcome to the club.”

“You, too?”

Josh nodded. “But I’m not going to worry about it today. Neither should you. Relax and maybe the answers will come to you when your mind’s clear of all the clutter.”

“Relax?” she said again, as if it were a foreign concept.

Josh chuckled. “Like this,” he explained patiently. “Lean back.”

He waited until she’d followed his directions. “Okay, then. Now pull the brim of your hat down low to shade your eyes.”

She did that, her expression totally serious.

“Now close your eyes and concentrate on the water lapping against the side of the boat,” he suggested soothingly. “Feel the sun on your skin.”

She sighed. “It feels wonderful.”

“There you go. It’s all about getting in touch with yourself and letting everything else kind of drift away.”

She followed his advice as dutifully as if her life depended on it. He might have been amused, if there had been time. Unfortunately, a fish picked that precise moment to snag Ashley’s line, and the next thing he knew he had his arms around her waist and was hanging on for dear life as she tried to reel in the rockfish that was just as determined to get away.

He was all too aware of the soft, sun-kissed scent of her skin, of the way her muscles flexed as she worked the line, of the softness of her breasts against his forearm. She was strong and fiercely determined not to be beaten by a fish. In fact, he had to bite his lip to keep from chuckling at the string of curses she muttered when she seemed to be losing the battle.

Only when the rockfish was finally flopping around in a bucket of salt water onboard, did Josh finally dare to meet her gaze. “Competitive, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea,” she murmured.

Josh nodded slowly. The revelations were coming bit by bit, each one adding to the enigma that was Ashley D’Angelo. Things were definitely going to get very interesting before he had a complete picture of this woman who was so triumphant about landing a fish.

And if the jangling of his pulse right now was any indication, this vacation of his might not turn out to be half as relaxing as he’d imagined.




4


“That’s three for me,” Ashley announced triumphantly as she reeled in her third rockfish of the morning. She grinned at Josh. “And how many for you?”

He laughed, obviously not the least bit intimidated by her success. “None. I haven’t had the time. I’ve been too busy trying to get your fish in the boat without you going overboard. You really need to curb your enthusiasm just a little. A rowboat isn’t as stable as, say, a fishing pier. You can’t jump around on it.”

“That sounds like an excuse to me,” Ashley said, enjoying goading him. He refused to take her seriously. She supposed it was that nice thing again. He actually seemed happy that she was doing so well and having so much fun. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been around a man who wasn’t out to get the better of her. Maybe that was because most of the men she knew were prosecutors. They tended to be driven, focused and devoid of humor.

“Now what?” she asked Josh, surprisingly eager for more of the kind of lighthearted banter and entertainment he was providing. She hadn’t thought about work for several hours now.

“We take them home and clean them,” he said. “The person who catches them is definitely responsible for cleaning them.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve done all the hard work,” she retorted. “We have these fish because of me. I think that makes it your job to clean them.”

“Excellent point,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said modestly.

He held up his hand. “However, and this is important, you did not reel them in entirely on your own. I did help.”

Ashley considered his claim. Fairness dictated that she acknowledge his role in the day’s catch. “I’ll give you that.”

“So we clean them together.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“How would you suggest we divvy up the labor?”

She thought it over. “You clean ‘em. I’ll cook ‘em. How about that?”

“Can you cook?”

She laughed. He had her there. Maggie was the cook in the family. “At least as well as you can fish,” she said eventually. “I’ll call Maggie. She’s the professional in the kitchen. I’m sure she can coach me through it.”

Of course, even as she uttered the words, Ashley knew what a bad idea it was to call her sister in on this. She’d never hear the end of it. “Better yet, I’ll find a cookbook. There’s bound to be one at Rose Cottage. If I could pass the bar exam, I’m sure I can follow directions. How hard can it be?”

Josh held out his hand. “Deal.”

Ashley accepted his outstretched hand. “Deal,” she agreed, as her pulse did a little bump and grind at the contact. Her gaze sought Josh’s to see if he’d felt it, as well. With his cap pulled low over his eyes, it was impossible to read anything in his expression.

When they reached the dock at Rose Cottage, he tied up the rowboat, then stepped into the shallow water and secured her kayak.

After helping her from the boat, he picked up the bucket of fish and his cooler and headed for the house. “I’ll just put these inside, then head home to get cleaned up. What time do you want to have dinner?”

“Actually I’m starved now,” she admitted, surprised to find that it was true. Her stomach was actually growling. It must have something to do with the salt air and exercise. “Much as I appreciated it, that half sandwich you shared with me didn’t do the trick.”

“Same here. How about I come back in an hour? It shouldn’t take me more than fifteen minutes to row back to my place. That’ll leave plenty of time for me to shower and drive back. Anything you want me to pick up for dinner?”

Ashley thought about the contents of the refrigerator. She’d brought some things with her, and Maggie had seen to it that it was stocked with plenty of salad ingredients before her arrival. The only thing missing was dessert. Normally she was content with fresh fruit, but the first full day of her vacation seemed to call for something decadent. If nothing else, it might demonstrate that she was starting to view this time-out as something worthy of celebration, rather than as punishment.

“Would you mind going to the bakery if there’s time?” she asked.

“Let me guess. You want chocolate,” he said, grinning.

“The richest, gooeyest chocolate they have,” she confirmed. “Brownies, cake, fudge, mousse—I’m not choosy.”

“And if the bakery’s closed?”

“Why would it be closed?”

“It’s almost five now.”

She stared at him in shock. It couldn’t be. “We spent the entire day on the water doing nothing?”

He laughed. “Pretty much. You got the knack for relaxing a lot quicker than I expected you to. The nap you took filled an hour or so.”

“I did not take a nap,” she protested. “I merely closed my eyes for a couple of minutes.”

“Whatever. Bottom line, the day has slipped away. Let me get going before any more of it slips by. I’ll do my best on the chocolate thing.”

She watched him go with an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. She’d spent an entire day in the company of a man she barely knew, doing something that hadn’t exactly taxed her mind, and she hadn’t been bored. Not for a single second. Amazing.

She was still pondering that when she went inside and discovered the phone ringing. She debated ignoring it, but realized that would only bring her sisters rushing over here in a panic. She picked it up reluctantly.

“Where the devil have you been?” Maggie demanded at once. “I’ve been calling for hours. I was beginning to think you’d run back to Boston. Melanie was about to start packing so we could come after you.”

“I’ve been fishing,” she responded.

“Excuse me?”

“You know, the activity in which a person puts bait on a hook, puts the hook in the water and reels in a fish. At least that’s how it’s supposed to work. It turns out I’m pretty good at it. I caught three rockfish.”

“Uh-huh,” Maggie said, clearly stunned. “When did you learn to fish?”

“Today.”

“Who taught you?”

Ah, there was that minefield she’d been dreading. “Josh,” she admitted. “I sort of ran into him on the water this morning.”

“Ran into him?”

“Literally,” she confessed. “I took the kayak out. When I slammed into his rowboat, I lost the paddle. He took me on board his boat.”

“As in kidnapped you or offered you refuge?”

“Refuge, I suppose.”

“I see. You sound surprisingly upbeat for a woman who has spent the entire day in the company of a man who supposedly annoys you, doing something that you wouldn’t have been caught dead doing a week ago.”

“Times change.”

“And your attitude toward Josh—has that changed, too?”

“I always said he was nice. He just got on my nerves last night at your place.”

Maggie laughed. “Oh, this is too good. I’m picking up Melanie and coming over. I want to hear more about this fishing excursion.”

“Forget about it,” Ashley said emphatically.

“Why?”

“Because Josh is coming back for dinner. I’m cooking the fish.”

“You’re cooking the fish?” Maggie repeated so skeptically it was insulting.

“Yes, dammit. You could help and just tell me how. It’ll save me having to look up a recipe.”

“Who’s cleaning the fish?” Maggie asked.

“Josh.”

“Thank God. For a minute, I thought the world might be coming to an end.”

“Stop it. Are you going to help me out here or not, Maggie?”

“Okay, okay. You want simple or fancy?”

“What do you think?” Ashley asked wryly.

“Simple it is. Dredge the fillets in flour, salt and pepper, then fry them in about a quarter inch of oil. Make sure the oil is hot, but not too hot. You don’t want to burn the fish.”

Ashley jotted the instructions down, even though they seemed foolproof. “How long?”

“Till the flour is golden brown. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes on each side, depending on how thick the fillets are.”

“And that’s all there is to it?” Ashley asked, frowning at the simple directions. “You’re not leaving out anything critical, so I’ll wind up being totally embarrassed?”

“I would not let you humiliate yourself,” Maggie said, sounding wounded by the suggestion. “This is an easy one, Ash. You’ll do fine. What else are you having?”

“Salad, and Josh said he’d pick up something for dessert.”

“Chocolate?”

“Yes, if you must know.”

“My, my. You don’t usually lay into the chocolate until you’re really, really comfortable with a man. Or under a lot of stress. Which is it, Ashley?”

“Go suck an egg. Josh is an easygoing guy. It’s no big deal. It’s not like it’s a date or something.”

“Really? Not a date? Just out of curiosity, what would you call it?”

“Dinner with a friend.”

Maggie chuckled. “Delusional, but nice. Have fun, big sister.”

She hung up before Ashley could reassert that her sister was way, way off base.

What was it with women and chocolate? Josh stared indecisively at the display case in the bakery. There was a chocolate layer cake, a chocolate mousse cake, two brownies with icing and walnuts, and eclairs topped with chocolate icing and filled with chocolate cream. They all looked decadent enough to him, but which one would satisfy Ashley? He had a hunch she was very particular.

“Decided yet?” the cheery young clerk asked him.

“Which is your favorite?”

She shrugged. “I like blueberry pie myself.”

Obviously she was going to be no help at all. He finally gave up in frustration. “I’ll take it all.”

Her jaw dropped. “Are you having a party or something?”

“Not really.” He was pretty sure dinner with Ashley didn’t qualify as a party. He doubted she even saw it as a date.

To be honest, he hadn’t quite decided what this evening was all about, either. He just knew that he’d rushed like crazy to get ready to go to Rose Cottage. Being invited there by one of the D’Angelo sisters was like a dream come true. Despite all the strides he’d made in building his self-confidence over the years, he still couldn’t quite believe it. He felt like the shy, awkward boy he’d been at sixteen. He wanted to get this right.

He paid the disbelieving clerk for the boxes of desserts, then headed the few miles back to Rose Cottage.

When Ashley opened the door, he almost swallowed his tongue. She was wearing a thin robe that clung to her still damp body, revealing every intriguing shadow, every lush curve. Her hair was in damp ringlets that sprang free from some sort of scrunchy thing that was supposed to be holding it on top of her head.

“Sorry,” she said, sounding frantic. “I had a phone call right after you left. It took me longer to get started in the shower than I expected. Make yourself at home. Get whatever you need in the kitchen to clean the fish. I’ll be down in a minute.”

She bolted for the stairs without waiting for a reply. Just as well, Josh thought, since it took him fully a minute to get the blood flowing back to his brain where it was necessary for speech.

“Clean the fish,” he muttered as he set out to find the kitchen. “Just concentrate on cleaning the fish.” Maybe that would drive the provocative image of Ashley in that revealing robe out of his head before she came back downstairs.

He was out back, scraping the scales from the last fish, when she finally emerged from the house. Thankfully, she was wearing loose jeans and a shapeless T-shirt, which looked as if they’d been borrowed from someone two sizes larger. Even so, she managed to stir his blood. Apparently she was going to do that no matter what she wore, he concluded. He’d just have to resign himself to it.

She’d dried her tawny hair into waves that fell to her shoulders. Her skin was clear and free of makeup, except for the faintest pink gloss on her lips. Even with all the suntan lotion she’d lathered on while they were on the water, her color was heightened to a healthy pink glow. She looked a thousand-percent better than the pale, shaken woman he’d met the day before.

“How’s it coming out here?” she asked.

“Just about finished. Have you figured out how to cook them?”

“Rest easy,” she said. “My sister has coached me through it. We probably won’t die of food poisoning.” She regarded him with apparent amusement. “By the way, why are there four bakery boxes on the kitchen table?”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t make up my mind what you’d like best.”

“So you bought out the place?”

“Pretty much—at least everything chocolate,” he admitted. “You don’t have to eat it all.”

“But I probably will,” she admitted with a sigh. “Chocolate is what gets me through stress.”

“And you’re stressed now?” he asked.

She hesitated, then regarded him with surprise. “Not right this second, no.”

He grinned. “I told you there were advantages to a day in a rowboat.”

“Apparently so. I haven’t thought about work all day long. That’s like some sort of miracle.”

“Then let’s keep that track record intact and get dinner on the table.”

Ashley nodded at once. “Good plan. If I start to bring up anything work-related over dinner, cut me off.”

Josh wasn’t sure he’d be able to agree to that indefinitely, but he could for tonight. “No work. Got it.”

In the kitchen, they worked side-by-side. He made the salad while she fried the fish. When the plates were ready, they sat at the kitchen table and Ashley lifted a glass of wine in a toast.

“To relaxation,” she said.

“It’s a wonderful thing,” Josh added.

“Even if it can’t last forever,” she said, looking just a little sad.

“Hey, that borders on mentioning work,” he scolded. “Maybe we need to have a penalty.”

Competitive woman that she was, Ashley immediately seized on the idea, just as he’d known she would.

“Such as?” she asked at once.

“We each have a pot and put in a dollar for every infraction. We’re on the honor system. We have to put the money in even if the other person isn’t around. At the end of the week, the one with the fewest violations gets all the money.” He grinned. “And gets treated to dinner by the loser.”

She considered the scheme thoughtfully, as if weighing her odds of winning. “I can do that,” she said finally.

Josh doubted it, but he lifted his glass. “To relaxation,” he toasted one more time.

They’d no sooner taken a sip than his cell phone rang. He could have sworn he’d left it turned off on his dresser, but apparently it had been stuck in the pocket of his jacket.

“Aren’t you going to get that?” Ashley asked.

He debated the wisdom of it, then finally reached for his jacket and grabbed it out of the pocket. “Yes?”

“Have you lost your mind, Madison?”

“Mr. Williams,” he said, barely containing a sigh.

“I’ve spoken to Stephanie,” his boss said. “She tells me the two of you have called off your engagement.”

Josh barely clung to his temper. “We were never engaged, sir.”

“Semantics. We all knew you were headed in that direction.”

“You were the only one who really believed that,” Josh corrected. “Fortunately Stephanie and I realized before it was too late that it would be a mistake. Look, sir, this isn’t really a good time. Perhaps we can discuss this later.”

“Now’s good for me,” Creighton Williams insisted. “You realize what this is going to do to your future here at Brevard, Williams and Davenport, don’t you?”

“I assume it’s over. If so, that’s fine.”

His ready acceptance of the end of his career clearly caught his boss off guard. “Now let’s not be hasty, Madison. You’re a good lawyer. This might get you off that fast track, but I don’t want to lose you over this. Besides, Stephanie made it clear she’d be furious if I fired you. We’ll work something out when you get back.”

“That’s very generous of you, sir, but I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

“What the devil are you saying?”

He finally risked a look at Ashley and noted that she was listening avidly to every word. “I’m saying that I’m on vacation. We’ll discuss it another time. Thanks for calling. I mean that, sir. It was very gracious of you.”

He shut the phone off completely and barely resisted the urge to toss it out the back door. He waited for the litany of questions to begin.

“Go ahead, ask,” he said finally.

She grinned. “That was about work, right?”

He nodded, uncertain where she was going. It didn’t seem to be in the direction he’d expected.

Ashley held up a slip of paper with little marks on it. “I counted half a dozen references to work, minimum. That’s six dollars in your pot, please.”

Josh fought a laugh. “You counted that conversation in our bet?”

“Of course. We had a deal. We sealed it with a toast before the phone rang.”

“Oh, brother, you must be hell on wheels in a courtroom.”

She grinned. “That’s another one. Seven dollars.”

He frowned at her. “Dammit, I was referring to your work, not mine.”

“Did we differentiate?” she inquired sweetly.

He sighed. “No, we did not differentiate. This is going to be a lot trickier than I expected.”

“Which means we should probably change the subject, even though I’m winning,” Ashley conceded with a magnanimous air. “Do you know anything about baseball? I’m a Red Sox fan myself.”

Josh stared at her, not entirely sure if she was serious. “Really? When was the last time you went to a baseball game?”

She faltered a bit at that. “I don’t actually go to the games,” she confessed eventually. “That doesn’t mean I don’t follow the team.”

“Then you watch them on TV?”

“Not really.”

“Read the sports pages?” he asked, his amusement growing.

“Okay, okay, I don’t know a damn thing about baseball,” she finally said. “But people in the office mention it. Obviously it’s something some people care about. I thought you might be one of them. I was just trying to make conversation.”

Josh grinned and held out his hand. “I’ll take a dollar, please. You mentioned your office.”

She stared at him with apparent dismay. “That doesn’t count.”

“Of course it does. Office, work, it’s all the same thing.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sakes,” she muttered, as she dug in her purse and tossed a dollar onto the table. “I’m still winning.”

“And we have a week to go. Don’t get overly confident, sweetheart. It’s unbecoming.”

She frowned at him. “Seen any good movies lately?”

“Not a one. You?”

“No.”

“Read any good books?” he asked, fully expecting her to slip up and make some reference to a law journal.

Her expression brightened. “Actually, I read a great one yesterday afternoon. It almost made me late for dinner.”

“Would I like it?”

“I doubt it. It was a love story.”

“Hey, I’m all in favor of love.”

She regarded him with blatant skepticism. “You want to read this?”

“Sure, why not? The fish was very good, by the way. You follow directions well.”

She seemed startled by the praise. Her gaze shifted to his clean plate, then to her own. “I do, don’t I? Maybe I’ll learn to cook while I’m here.”

“I’d be happy to be your guinea pig,” he offered. “I have a cast-iron stomach. I have to, given how lousy I am in the kitchen.”

“Maybe Maggie could give us both lessons,” she suggested. “That could be fun.”

“Even relaxing,” he retorted. “As long as you don’t turn it into some sort of competition.”

“Not everything has to be a competition with me,” she insisted.

“Really? I’ll bet by the time you were three, you wanted to know if your hands were the cleanest when you came to the supper table.”

“I did not,” she said, but there was a spark of recognition in her eyes that suggested she saw herself in his comment just the same.

Josh wondered if a woman who obviously thrived on challenges would ever be content with a slower, less stressful pace, or if she would always need to be in the thick of some battle. It was something he needed to decide about himself, as well.

He’d come down here to simplify his life, to cut through the clutter of being on the fast track and see

if he wanted to get off entirely. He suspected Ashley wasn’t in the same place at all. If anything, she was probably champing at the bit to get back on that fast track. It might be the kind of complication that meant they were doomed, but it was hardly something that needed to be resolved tonight.

Tonight it was enough to be with a woman who stirred his blood and kept him on his toes mentally. At some point during the evening, he’d gotten past the triumph of being invited to Rose Cottage by one of the unattainable D’Angelo sisters. Now it was all about being with a woman who intrigued him, a woman with strengths and vulnerabilities he wanted to understand, a woman whose bed he wanted to share.

When that thought cavorted through his head, he immediately slammed on the brakes. He was getting ahead of himself, way ahead of himself.

He glanced across the table and saw Ashley studying him intently. There was an unmistakable and totally unexpected hunger in her eyes. He told himself it had to be for the chocolate.

“Ready for dessert?” he asked, his voice thick and unsteady.

She nodded, her gaze never leaving his.

“Cake?”

She shook her head.

“A brownie?”

Again, that subtle shake.

Josh swallowed hard. “Eclair?”

“Not right now.”

“What do you want?”

“You,” she said quietly.

Amazement flooded through him. “But—”

“No questions, no doubts, unless you don’t want me,” she said.

“That is definitely not the issue,” he admitted.

Her lips curved slightly. “Then why are you still sitting there?”

“Because I’m an idiot,” he said, trying to ignore the way his pulse was racing with anticipation. He was a nice guy, dammit, and she was vulnerable. He would not take advantage of her.

She stared at him for an eternity. “You’re saying no?”

He nodded. “I don’t know what brought you down here, but having sex with me isn’t the answer.”

“It could be the answer tonight,” she said lightly.

He smiled at that. “Indeed, it could be spectacular, but when you and I get together for the first time—and we will, Ashley—then I want it to be because it’s inevitable, not because it’s convenient.”

Patches of red flared in her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m the idiot,” she said, instantly stiff and unapproachable again.

“Don’t you dare say that,” he chided. “You have no idea how flattered I am that you suggested this or how hard it was for me to say no. We’ll get around to making love, make no mistake about that.”

“I’m only here for three weeks,” she reminded him, as if to define the urgency.

He grinned. “Which means we still have twenty days left. Since we barely got through one without tumbling straight into your bed, I suspect we won’t waste too many.”

She stared at him quizzically, as if she were trying to discover if he was making fun of her. Apparently she recognized just how serious he was, because she laughed. The tension evaporated.

But Josh knew that thanks to his noble gesture, sleep was going to be a very long time coming.




5


Ashley still felt like a first-class idiot in the morning. Josh had been amazingly gracious when she’d hit on him, but she’d clearly misread all the signals. She’d thought all those sparks were going to lead to something that would help her to forget her problems. Fishing, pleasant as it had been, sure as hell wasn’t going to do that. A steamy, meaningless affair might have.

Oh, well, no one died of acute humiliation. She simply wouldn’t make that mistake again. For all she knew, Josh wouldn’t even set foot on the grounds at Rose Cottage again, despite all those pretty words and promises.

She was still beating herself up as she lingered over her second cup of coffee when someone knocked on the kitchen door, then walked right in. She glanced up, fully expecting it to be her sisters, only to find Josh there in another pair of faded shorts and another of those equally disreputable T-shirts. He looked incredible. Her resolve to forget about an affair sizzled and died.

Without saying a word, he walked over to the table, leaned down and kissed her. The first touch of his lips on hers was a shock. She had a hunch he’d meant it to be nothing more than a casual, good-morning kind of kiss, but it set off enough heat to boil eggs. Her head was spinning, and she was pretty sure her eyes had to be crossed by the time he pulled away. If he’d been trying to prove that he’d meant what he said the night before, he’d accomplished that and then some.

“I thought you might be over here beating yourself up about trying to seduce me last night,” he said as he casually turned to the coffeepot and poured himself the last cup. She’d drunk all the rest of the coffee herself.

Indignation flared at his comment, even though he’d guessed exactly right. “So what? You decided to come over and toss me a consolation prize?”

He laughed. “No, I came over to prove that you have nothing to worry about. A couple more kisses like that one and I won’t be able to resist you. My noble intentions will fly right out the window.”

She frowned at him. “Was that my mistake last night—not grabbing you and kissing you right off the bat?”

“You didn’t make any mistakes last night,” he assured her. “Aside from being a little premature.” He surveyed her. “Why aren’t you dressed for fishing?”

“I didn’t know we were going fishing,” she said, her tone still peevish. He’d thrown her completely off-kilter yet again. It was getting to be an annoying habit. The men she liked were predictable. None of them would have turned down her offer of uncomplicated sex.

And, she was forced to admit, none of them would have been back here this morning suggesting a fishing trip.

“You have something else planned?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Then let’s get a move on. Those fish won’t wait forever.”

She grinned despite herself. “I thought the object was to relax, that actually catching a fish didn’t really matter.”

“It doesn’t to me,” he said indifferently, then winked. “But you seem to need immediate gratification.”

“Is that an insult?”

He laughed. “Nope, just an observation. We’re going to work on that.”

“What if I don’t want to change?” she asked curiously.

“Then it will be more of a struggle than I’m expecting,” he said easily. “Go, put on a swimsuit under your clothes. Maybe I’ll let you race me to the dock later.”

“Will you let me win?”

“Not a chance.”

Ashley laughed. “Now you’ve really made it interesting. I’ll be right back.”

Upstairs, she pulled on her prim, one-piece bathing suit, then added a T-shirt, shorts and a pair of dingy sneakers she hadn’t worn since college. She grabbed her cap from the day before and a bottle of suntan lotion. She hesitated in the bedroom doorway as if she were forgetting something, then realized that going fishing didn’t require a tenth of the paraphernalia she took with her to work each day. It was actually a relief to go downstairs without a purse or briefcase weighing her down.

She took the keys from a peg on the wall, then announced, “I’m ready.”

Josh grinned. “Love the shoes. They make a statement.”

She glanced pointedly at his faded and misshapen boat shoes. “It’s not as if you just stepped out of a designer shoe showroom.”

“Hey, don’t you dare insult these old things. They’re just getting comfortable.”

They’d barely stepped out the back door, still bantering, when Melanie and Maggie rounded the corner of the house. Ashley’s good humor vanished in a heartbeat. She muttered a curse, ruing the day she’d ever interfered in her sisters’ lives, since they now seemed to feel totally free to butt into hers.

“We heard that,” Maggie scolded. “Is that any way to welcome your loving sisters who’ve come to check on you?”

“As if that’s why you’re here,” she retorted. “You’re here to spy.”

“Which would hardly matter if you have nothing to hide,” Melanie commented, her gaze on Josh. “Been here long?” she asked him.

“A few minutes,” Ashley responded emphatically.

“Then this is like a second date or something,” Maggie said. “Fascinating.”

“It’s not a date,” Ashley said automatically. “We’re going fishing.”

“Oh, yes, fishing,” Maggie repeated, amusement threading through her voice. “I forgot that doesn’t count. If it did, that would actually make this the third date, since you went fishing yesterday, too, isn’t that right, Josh?”

He regarded her with undisguised reluctance. “Don’t ask me. I’m staying out of this one. You ladies work it out. Me, I’m not much on labels. I’m a go-with-the-flow kind of guy.”

Ashley frowned at him. “You are not. Otherwise—”

He interrupted, grinning at her. “Do you really want to go there?”

Ashley sighed and shut up.

“Smart and handsome,” Melanie said with approval.

“A dead man,” Ashley commented, scowling at him. “You were supposed to back me up. We’re not dating.”

“Oh, I must have missed that memo.” He dutifully turned to her sisters. “We’re not dating.”

“Then what are you doing?” Maggie inquired sweetly. “Besides kissing, that is?”

“Kissing?” Ashley asked. “Where would you get an idea like that?”

“The clues are everywhere,” Maggie said blithely. “Those telltale traces of lipstick on Josh’s face, for instance, and the fact that your lipstick is the exact same shade… What’s left of it, anyway.”

Ashley felt her cheeks flaming. She turned to Josh. “Have I mentioned that my sisters are a couple of obnoxious meddlers?”

“I think it’s sweet,” he said.

“Sweet?” she echoed incredulously. “What’s sweet about them barging in here and making you uncomfort able?”

“I’m not uncomfortable.”

She stared at him. He did seem perfectly at ease. She was the only one about to jump out of her skin. “Oh, forget it. I’m going fishing. The rest of you can do whatever the hell you want to do.”

“Sorry, ladies,” Josh said. “I think that’s my cue. Have a nice day.”

They were in the boat before Ashley finally risked a look into his eyes. They were sparkling with amusement.

“You thought that was funny, didn’t you?” she demanded irritably.

“I don’t know about funny, but it wasn’t quite the big deal you want to turn it into.”

“Just wait,” she muttered direly. “Just you wait.”

She was going to take a certain amount of perverse pleasure in watching Josh squirm when her sisters decided he was exactly the right catch and set out to reel him in for her.

Josh recalled Ashley’s warning when he was sitting in a booth at a café later that afternoon with a cappuccino and the Richmond paper and he spotted Maggie and Melanie about to descend on him. They looked as thrilled as if they’d just noticed an especially plump turkey for their Thanksgiving dinner.

“Hello again,” Maggie said, sliding into the booth opposite him.

Melanie slipped in beside him, so there would be no escape. “Where’s Ashley?”

“I dropped her back at Rose Cottage about an hour ago.”

“Catch any fish today?” Maggie asked.

“Not a one,” he admitted, recalling just how frustrating that had been to Ashley. She hadn’t quite gotten the knack of appreciating the process more than the outcome. She’d been very irritable when he’d left her at Rose Cottage.

Melanie laughed. “Uh-oh, that must have driven Ashley up a wall. She probably took it as a personal affront.”

“Pretty much,” he agreed. In fact, she’d made such a commotion, it was little wonder the fish had taken off. He hadn’t had the nerve to point out to her that fish tended to flee when humans made too much racket.

Maggie’s gaze narrowed. “Did that make you run for cover?”

“No, it made me run home to change into clean clothes so I could meet her here for coffee.”

“Oh,” Maggie said, obviously deflated.

“Do you honestly want to be here cross-examining me when she gets here?” he inquired.

The two women exchanged a look. “Probably a bad idea,” Melanie admitted.

“She’ll think we’re spying again,” Maggie agreed. “But we have our eyes on you, Madison. Don’t forget that.”

Josh laughed. “Not for a minute,” he promised.

Maggie gave him one last considering look. “You could be good for her.”

“Thank you.”

“Has she told you why she’s hiding out down here?”

“No.”

“Make her tell you,” she urged. “She needs to talk about it.”

“Maybe what she needs is to put it behind her,” Josh suggested. “Sometimes you can talk a thing to death.”

“Nice theory, but talking things to death is how Ashley handles a crisis,” Maggie informed him. “This time she’s clammed up. It’s not healthy.”

“I don’t suppose you want to share a little information with me, maybe tell me what it is I’m supposed to get her to talk about,” he suggested.

“Sorry,” Maggie said. “She’d kill us if we told.”

“Does it have something to do with work?”

They exchanged a look, then nodded.

“Then we have a problem. She and I have agreed to avoid the subject of work at all costs. In fact we have a bet going about who can do the best job of steering clear of the topic.”

“Great, that’s just great,” Maggie said in obvious disgust, oblivious to the suddenly frantic signals Melanie was trying to send her.

“Actually it is great,” Ashley chimed in, startling Maggie. “Work is not a topic I care to get into with anyone right now, including the two of you. Go away.” She frowned at Josh. “Didn’t I warn you about them?”

“Hey, I was sitting here minding my own business and they turned up. It’s not like I invited them to join us.”

Maggie’s expression brightened. “What a good idea! We’d love to.”

“It is not a good idea,” Ashley said emphatically. “Go away. If you don’t, I will.”

“Okay, fine,” Maggie said as she and Melanie stood up. “We’ll leave you in Josh’s capable hands.” She turned to him. “Remember our advice. And forget about that stupid bet.”

Ashley stood watching them until they were out the door. Then she sat down opposite him. “What advice did they give you?”

“They think I need to ask you about what drove you down here,” he said. He searched her face, watching for a reaction. She managed to keep her expression totally neutral. “Do I?”

“Absolutely not. I don’t want to talk about it,” she said fiercely.

He sighed. “Which tells me it is exactly what we need to discuss.”

She regarded him plaintively. “Why?”

“Because it’s apparently the key to getting to know who you are.”

“You know who I am.”

“I know what you’ve allowed me to see. It’s all pretty superficial, Ashley.”

She gave him a sour look. “Am I boring you?”

“Hardly.”

“Then think of it this way—there are layers and layers yet to be peeled away. One of these days I may let you get started on that, but not now, okay?”

“You can’t solve problems if you hide from them,” he commented. Not that he was a sterling example of someone who paid attention to that particular advice. Wasn’t he as guilty of avoiding things at the moment as she was? He hadn’t given one moment’s thought to his future once he’d resolved things with Stephanie. He was letting it all percolate on the back burner in the hope that things would work themselves out eventually without any effort on his part.

Ashley frowned at the unsolicited advice. “I can only learn one new trick at a time. I’m still having trouble with the relaxation thing. This other business would pretty much set me back by a month.”

Josh laughed. “Okay, okay. We’ll stick to relaxing for now. And speaking of that, what would you like? I could use another cappuccino. I’ll go up to the counter and order.”

“A cappuccino sounds good,” she said. “I’ll look at the paper till you get back.”

It didn’t take Josh more than five minutes to order their coffee and take the drinks back to the table, but something had obviously happened while he was away. Every bit of color had washed out of Ashley’s face, and she was clutching a balled up chunk of newsprint in her fist.

“Ashley?” he asked, scooting into the booth next to her. “What is it?”

She shook her head, looking dazed.

Josh tried to pry the paper from her hand, but she refused to release it. He racked his brain trying to recall anything that had been in the paper that might have had this obviously devastating effect on her, but nothing came to him. Besides, she had no ties to Richmond that he knew of.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Something’s obviously upset you.”

“I can’t,” she whispered, her voice choked. “Let me out of here. I think I’m going to be sick.”

She ran from the café with Josh hard on her heels. He caught her at the corner. She was bending over, holding her stomach, gasping for breath. He rubbed her back, murmuring soothing nonsense, until she finally shuddered and turned to him, burying her face against his shoulder. He’d never before in his life seen anyone with such a stricken look in their eyes. It made him want to kill whoever was responsible for putting it there.

“Tell me, please,” he pleaded. “I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Can we take a break from the bet?” she asked.

Josh almost laughed that she would think of their bet at a time like this. “Okay, we’re on a time-out,” he assured her. “Now tell me.”

She lifted her gaze to his, her expression drained. Finally she seemed to reach some sort of conclusion because she held out her hand and let him take the piece of newspaper.

Josh smoothed it out as best he could with one hand, while still keeping one arm firmly around her waist. He had a feeling she needed the contact far more than he needed to get immediate answers.

The first side of the page was nothing but part of an ad for a Richmond department store. When he turned it over, he saw that it was from a column of national news briefs. The dateline was Boston.

Freed Killer Strikes Again, the headline stated. He glanced at Ashley’s face. There was guilt and shame in her expression as if she were somehow responsible.

“What do you know about this?” he asked quietly.

“I know that man,” she said after what seemed like an eternity. “I represented him at his last trial for murder.

I just got him off a week ago. My firm’s still representing him.” Oh, dear God in heaven, Josh thought, his heart aching for her. That was what had brought her to Rose Cottage, the knowledge that she had helped to free a murderer. And now the man had almost killed again. Only quick police intervention had stopped him. It would devastate any lawyer, but especially one who took such evident pride in her courtroom skills. She’d obviously been duped by the man into believing in his innocence. She wouldn’t be the first lawyer to be fooled, or the last, but she obviously held herself to exceedingly high standards.

“It’s not your fault,” he said firmly.

“Of course it is. That disgusting creature wouldn’t have been back on the streets if it hadn’t been for me. Maybe I didn’t know he was guilty when I defended him, but I should have seen it. He would have been in jail now if I hadn’t been so aggressive in that courtroom.”

“Was the prosecution’s case airtight?”

“No,” she admitted. “The forensics evidence was sloppy as hell.”

“Did you do anything unethical?”

“No.”

“Did you follow the law?”

“To the letter.”

“Then it wasn’t your fault,” he repeated. “Remember, our legal system is based on the principle that it’s preferable for ten guilty people to go free than for one innocent person to be convicted. The jury is instructed not to convict if there is reasonable doubt, and it’s up to the prosecutor to remove that doubt from the jurors’ minds.”

“Justice wasn’t served,” she insisted. “Not even close. I have a reputation for picking my cases very carefully. I blew this one.”

Josh couldn’t argue with that. He knew all too well how cases could sometimes be won or lost not on the evidence, but based on the comparative skills of the lawyers involved. It was one of the reasons he was questioning his own commitment to the law. Maybe now was the time to tell Ashley that, to commiserate with her in a way that told her he really did understand. Somehow, though, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. This was about her feelings, and he didn’t want to divert the conversation away from that for even a moment.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I know how this case must eat at you. My saying it’s not your fault doesn’t really help. You have to get there on your own.”

“I don’t know if I ever will.” She eyed the article he was holding as if it were a serpent. “Especially now. I’ll never be able to practice in Boston again.”

“Of course you will,” he said. “If that’s what you want to do. Good people, honest people, innocent people, get accused of crimes, and they’re going to want an attorney who fights with passion and conviction on their side. Those are the ones you’ll help.”

She regarded him with a sad expression. “But don’t you see, Josh? I can’t tell the difference.”

The misery in her eyes and the hopelessness in her voice were enough to break his heart.

“Of course you can,” he assured her. “It’s one mistake, Ashley. That doesn’t render you incompetent.”

“Another person nearly died because of me,” she insisted fiercely. “If the police hadn’t had him under surveillance…” She shuddered at what could have happened. “I’m as guilty as Tiny Slocum.”

“I know that’s how you must feel, but you’ll see it differently in time,” he said, wondering even as he spoke if that were really true. Ashley clearly had a conscience that ran deep. It was one of the most admirable things about her. How would she ever be able to reconcile what had happened with her vision of justice? With her vision of herself?

Worse, he knew that there wasn’t a damn thing he could say that would set her mind at ease.




6


“You can go now,” Ashley told Josh after he’d fixed them both dinner, then sat there patiently, his gaze unrelenting, until she’d eaten almost every bite. His presence, undemanding though it was, was wearing on her nerves. Sooner or later, he was going to insist she talk about Tiny Slocum.

Right now, though, he merely grinned. “Trying to run me off before I make you finish your peas?”

“You caught me,” she admitted, trying to match his light tone. “I hate peas.”

He gave her a perplexed look. “Then why were there six cans of them in the cupboard?”

“Because Melanie was here first and she stocked the cupboards. She loves peas.” Ashley grinned halfheartedly. “Maggie won’t touch them, either. Maybe I should consider wrapping them up and giving them to Melanie for Christmas.”

Even as she spoke, there was a semi-hysterical note in her voice as she realized that it was entirely possible that she could still be here at Christmas, that her firm might not want her back after all, now that her sterling reputation for being on the side of the angels had been tarnished. Her three-week break, which she’d barely become resigned to, could turn into months of unemployment and indecision.

Given that realization along with everything else, it was a miracle that she could find anything at all to joke about. Ever since she’d seen that news brief in the paper, she’d felt as if all the air had been sucked from her lungs. She hadn’t said a dozen words all during dinner. It was little wonder that Josh was reluctant to leave her, even though he had to have lost respect for her, knowing how badly she’d been deluded in the Tiny Slocum case. She was sure Josh would bolt the instant he thought she was calm enough to be left alone. That would be that, the end of a budding…what? Friendship? Relationship?

She regarded him thoughtfully. “Why haven’t you run for the hills by now?” Maybe the answer to that would tell her what she needed to know. Maybe it would help her to define whatever was going on between them. She liked everything in her life sorted into nice, neat cubbyholes. Up till now Josh had defied all her attempts at categorization.

But rather than giving her the direct, uncomplicated answer she’d hoped for, he regarded her blankly. “Why would I do that?”

“You’ve seen unmistakable evidence that I’m a terrible judge of character,” she explained. “That might be okay for the average person, but it’s a lousy trait for an attorney. I don’t even have any respect for me anymore.”

“Come on, Ashley. I’m not about to confuse a mistake you made with who you are,” he told her. “You’re a good, decent person.”

“You haven’t known me long enough to be sure of that,” she protested, determined not to listen to anything positive when she was mired in this down-on-herself mood.

“It’s obvious,” he contradicted just as emphatically. “Otherwise this wouldn’t be tearing you up the way it is. You’d chalk it up to experience and move right on.”

She stared at him in shock. “How could I do that? How could anyone?”

“Attorneys do it all the time,” he insisted. “They passionately defend people they know or suspect to be guilty because that’s their job. You said yourself that someone at your firm took over Slocum’s defense.”

“You don’t seem to have a very high opinion of lawyers,” she observed.

“Just a realistic one, quite possibly a better one than you do at the moment,” he said, then waved her off when she would have interrupted. “Let me finish.”

“Fine. Go right ahead.”

“Maybe a good attorney will try to encourage a plea bargain if the evidence is overwhelming, but ultimately his duty is to act in the best interest of his client, guilty or innocent, and to offer that client the competent defense that is the client’s constitutional right, correct?”

“Yes,” she admitted.

“You thought you were defending an innocent man. It turned out you were wrong. It’s not the same thing as deliberately setting out to free a guilty man.”

Ashley refused to be placated. “It feels like the same thing. It feels as if I’m as responsible as Tiny Slocum was when he beat up yet another woman.”

Josh looked her in the eye. “How do you think the jurors who acquitted him are feeling right now? Do you blame them? Do you think you duped them?”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “No, not deliberately. Tiny fooled all of us. I’m sure they’re as sick at heart as I am.”

“Add in the fact that the prosecutor and police messed up. Seems to me as if there’s plenty of blame to go around. You don’t need to take it all onto your shoulders.” He scooted his chair closer and skimmed a finger along her bare arm. “And lovely shoulders they are, too. Much too lovely to have all this weight heaped on them.”

Ashley shuddered at his touch. It would be so easy to allow him to distract her, just for a little while. It would be wonderful to have his mouth on hers, his hands exploring her body, to feel him inside her, to give in to sensation, to let him take her hard and fast until she came apart. It was exactly what she’d wanted last night, and it was even more appealing now.

But she wouldn’t ask him to stay, not again. Her pride wouldn’t allow it, even if her common sense wasn’t telling her that the timing was no more right tonight than it had been the night before. If anything, it was worse. They would both know she was only using him to forget her troubles. That was a truly lousy thing to do to a man who’d been nothing but thoughtful and supportive.

She grabbed Josh’s hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “You should go,” she said quietly. “I need some time to think about all this.”

“I’m not so sure you should be alone,” he said, his expression uneasy. “If you don’t want me here, how about calling one of your sisters?”

She shook her head. “Maggie and Melanie have already listened to me moan and groan enough about all this. They came straight up to Boston to get me after the trial. If you think I’m in bad shape now, you should have seen me then. I was totally impossible and unreasonable. They threatened to have me committed if I didn’t take some time off.”

“Really? Good for them.”

She frowned at him. “Don’t tell me you’re a proponent of the tough love approach, too.”

“I’m a proponent of love in all its forms,” he retorted genially. “Now let me do these dishes, and I’ll get out from underfoot.”

“Josh, I don’t think I’m so shaken that I can’t wash a few dishes. Doing something totally mundane and mindless will be good for me,” she said, anxious for him to be gone before she changed her mind and threw herself at him.

“If you say so,” he replied.

“Go. Do something fun and don’t spend one second worrying about me. I promise I’ll be here in the morning, bright-eyed and ready to go fishing.”

He studied her intently for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, then, you win. I’m out of here. Call me if you change your mind and decide you need company. It doesn’t matter what time it is. I’m not on any sort of schedule right now. I can be back here in a few minutes.”

“I will,” she promised.

He leaned down and gave her a hard kiss that stirred regret that she’d already decided to send him on his way.

“Just something else for you to think about,” he teased lightly. “I don’t want you wasting your whole night on useless guilt.”

After he’d gone, Ashley touched her lips. It had been a helluva tactic. As stressed-out as she was about things in Boston, there was a whole lot going on right here to give her pause. One of these days she’d have to figure out why she was so attracted to a man who seemed to have an endless supply of time on his hands and no noticeable goals that she’d been able to discern.

Josh wasn’t happy about leaving Ashley alone, but the stubborn set of her jaw had told him she wasn’t going to give him any alternative. Better to go gracefully than add to her stress by digging in his heels and staying put. Besides, he had some thinking of his own to do. Maybe this was the perfect opportunity. Ironically the questions plaguing Ashley were not that much of a stretch from those bothering him.

Not that he’d gotten a murderer off recently. He swam in a different legal pond, mostly with the corporate barracudas. It was cutthroat law of a different kind, and he’d pretty much concluded months ago that he wasn’t suited for it. He was always hired to represent one side, but he was too damn good at seeing both sides of the picture, especially in some of the high-stakes mergers and acquisitions he handled. His evenhanded judgment made it a lot harder to go for the jugular, even when that was precisely what he was being paid to do.

People who hired Brevard, Williams and Davenport could pay for the best representation available. More and more lately, Josh had wanted to be on the side of the little guy who couldn’t afford the big guns. Maybe this was his chance to do just that. He had no financial obligations, no family to consider. If he was ever going to dramatically alter his income and lifestyle, now was the time.

A part of him wanted to go back to Ashley’s and bat the whole idea around with her for a while. He had a hunch she would bring a unique perspective to the picture. Maybe it would even help her wrestle with her own dilemma. They could be sounding boards for each other, at least once she got over the shock of discovering that he was one of those lawyers she thought he held in such disdain.

He sighed and dismissed the idea. Ashley didn’t want a sounding board right now. She wanted to hibernate and lick her wounds. He honestly couldn’t blame her. He’d give her tonight to do that, but come morning, he was going to be back over there and was going to insist they talk her situation out some more, especially if she was still neck-deep in guilt.

“You look like a man with a lot on his mind.” Mike startled Josh out of his reverie when he found Josh still sitting behind the wheel of his car in his driveway after he’d driven home from Ashley’s.

“Just thinking about this and that,” Josh said, climbing out of the car and plastering a fake smile of welcome on his face. “What are you doing here?”

“Actually I was out for a walk and saw your car turn in. I decided I’d stop by and see if you wanted a little company. Melanie and Jessie went shopping for school supplies so I’m at loose ends.”

Josh grinned at the restless note in Mike’s voice. “Is that what marriage does to you, makes you incapable of being on your own for a few hours?”

Mike laughed. “Pretty much. I’m still shocked by that myself.” He gave Josh a speculative look. “You’re on your own pretty early, too. Did Ashley kick you out?”

“She had some things she needed to think through,” he said, careful not to allude to what those things were. If she didn’t want her family to know, it wasn’t up to him to spill the beans.

“About your relationship?” Mike prodded.

“No way. To hear her tell it, we don’t have a relationship.”

“I see. What’s your take on that?”

Josh gave the question some serious thought. He liked her, no question about that. He was attracted to her. Definitely no question about that, either. Did they have a future? How could he possibly answer that when neither of them had a clue what they really wanted for the rest of their lives, professionally speaking, anyway? He settled for giving a reply that was honest as far as it went.

“I think that depends on how determined she is to go back to Boston,” he told Mike. “There’s not much chance of having a relationship with someone whose life is hundreds of miles away.”

Mike didn’t seem convinced. “You hear about longdistance relationships working all the time. They’re tough, but it can be done if both people are committed to it.”

“I think it’s a little soon for either of us to be thinking about commitment. We barely know each other.”

“Sometimes the whole lightning-bolt thing happens,” Mike reminded him. “It happened that way for me and Melanie. Same thing with Rick and Maggie. Maybe it’s the way things go with the D’Angelo women.”

Josh thought of how connected he sometimes felt to Ashley, far more connected than he’d ever felt to Stephanie, despite having known Stephanie so much longer. Maybe Mike was right. Maybe time had nothing to do with love. Still, for a plodder like him, it seemed wrong to be thinking of jumping from thoughts of an eventual engagement to a certain woman one day, to a full-throttle relationship with another woman a few days later. A full-throttle affair, maybe, but he’d already vetoed that idea.

“Let’s not jump the gun,” he told Mike. “I don’t think Ashley’s in the best place to be worrying about a relationship with anyone right now.”

Mike regarded him with pity. “A word of advice, don’t wait for her to decide or to be in the right place. If you want her, let her know it. If you want her to stay here, then pull out the big guns and persuade her to stay. If she’s anything like her sisters, this area is in her blood just as much as Boston is, but it might take a little push to help her realize that.”

Josh nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now how about a beer?” he suggested, anxious to change the subject. “We can swap lies and gossip about everyone we know except the D’Angelo women.”

Mike laughed. “Total avoidance. It’s a great tactic. I used it a lot. In the end, it didn’t matter. You can get those women out of your head, but it’s impossible to get them out of your blood.”

Josh was beginning to get that. Oddly, it didn’t terrify him half as much as it should have.

It took a great deal of courage for Ashley to call Jo in Boston the minute Josh left. There were things she needed to know. If her life as she knew it was over, she needed to start making an adjustment right now. She’d have to scale down her lifestyle, find a whole new career, maybe even move to some other city.

“Slow down,” she scolded herself as she dialed her sister’s number. “This isn’t the time for making rash decisions. Get the facts first.”

Jo picked up on the fourth ring, her tone hesitant.

“Hey, it’s me,” Ashley said.

“Thank God. I almost didn’t pick up.”

“Why?”

“The media,” Jo said succinctly. “They’re trying to track you down. This latest beating—you have heard about it, right?”

“I’ve heard.”

“Well, as you can imagine, it’s stirred them up all over again. They want your reaction to it.”

“I’m so sorry. You need to get caller ID.”

“No, I don’t. This will pass. How are you? How did you find out, anyway? I was hoping it hadn’t made the news down there.”

“There was an item in the Richmond paper,” Ashley admitted. “So how bad is it? Are the papers screaming for my head?”

“Of course not,” Jo said.

Unfortunately, her baby sister was a terrible liar. Ashley heard the faint hesitation in her voice.

“Come on, Jo. What are they saying? Tell the truth. If you don’t, I’ll just have to call the office and ask them what’s going on. Something tells me they won’t sugarcoat anything. I’ll be lucky to have a job. They loved having me on board when I was saving the innocent and bringing in great PR for the firm, but now? I can’t imagine they’re happy about this.”

“Okay, it’s bad,” Jo admitted. “But that’s today. The beating just took place yesterday. Everyone’s bound to be in an uproar. Things will quiet down in a few days. One paper already put some perspective on the story by asking how the prosecution and cops screwed up the first trial so badly. They’ve stopped focusing on you completely.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m off the hook, even with that paper. It just means that the prosecutor and police are dangling on the hook with me,” Ashley said cynically. She bit back a sigh. “Maybe I should go back and face the music.”

“Absolutely not,” Jo said. “You stay right where you are. We’re all agreed about that.”

“Everyone in the family knows?”

“Mom and Dad do, of course. They’ve been getting the same calls I have.”

“Dammit,” Ashley muttered. “I’ll call them and tell them not to answer the phone.”

“No need. I think Dad’s actually enjoying giving the media an earful about irresponsible reporting. You know how he is when anyone picks on one of his baby girls.”

The reminder almost brought a smile to Ashley’s lips. Max D’Angelo was a stereotypical overly protective Italian father. Nobody hurt one of his daughters. Heck, it was a wonder any of them had ever had a date, given the way he loomed over every male to cross the threshold. As teenagers, they had all been driven crazy by it.

Now Ashley could only be grateful for her father’s innate protectiveness. He’d stand between her and an entire army of reporters and photographers, if need be.

“He’s something, isn’t he?” she said.

“He loves you to pieces,” Jo said. “Don’t worry about him and Mom, okay? They just want to be sure you’re all right. They think Rose Cottage is the perfect place for you till this mess settles down. They’re relieved that you’re not here in the thick of it.”

“Have you spoken to Maggie or Melanie?”

Jo hesitated. “Don’t be furious with me. I did try to call them to let them know what had happened, so they could decide the best way to break the news to you, but neither one was home. This wasn’t the kind of message I wanted to leave on a machine. I think you should tell them, though. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m not alone. Well, I am now, but Josh was here until about a half hour ago. I sent him home.”

“Josh?” Jo repeated, immediately intrigued. “Spill, big sister. Who is Josh?”

Ashley was surprised. “You mean the family grapevine has failed you? I thought surely you would have had detailed reports by now. Maggie and Melanie are certainly making a lot out of the fact that I met a man a few hours after my arrival.”

“An interesting man?”

“That’s one description,” she conceded.

“What’s a better one?”

Ashley thought about that before answering. “He’s soothing,” she said eventually.

“Soothing? As in boring?”

She laughed. “No, he’s definitely not boring.”

“Not the least bit sexy?”

“Oh, he’s sexy, all right.”

“Really?” Jo said with more enthusiasm. “Now it’s getting interesting. Tell me more, Ashley. Are you going to follow the family tradition and fall madly in love while you’re at Rose Cottage?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I have way too much on my mind to even think about a man right now.”

Jo laughed. “I’m pretty sure love and passion don’t require a lot of thinking. You’re supposed to go with the flow. Not that I would know, of course, my own love life being what it is.”

“Which is?” Ashley asked, eager to steer the subject away from her own problems.

“Not something I care to discuss,” Jo said emphatically, in a way that only stirred worry that there was something she was hiding.

Even through her concern, Ashley had to admire her baby sister. No matter how complicated her life got, Jo simply dealt with it. They usually didn’t know until much, much later that Jo’s emotional life was in turmoil. She was quiet and steady as a rock.

“If you change your mind, I’m here,” Ashley said, fully aware that she was wasting her breath.

“I know that. I know I can depend on all of you.”

“You just choose not to,” Ashley said.

“It’s not that I wouldn’t value your advice or your support,” Jo said. “It just makes it more difficult to know my own mind if there’s all this sisterly clamor going on around me.”

“Fair enough. I suppose we could listen without offering advice,” Ashley offered.

“That’ll be the day,” Jo said with a laugh. “Maybe one leopard could change its spots, but three? Not a chance.”

“Okay, then,” Ashley said briskly. “Thanks for filling me in. I’ll be in touch.”

“If you aren’t, I’m coming down there and bringing Mom and Dad with me. We’ll circle the wagons.”

“Heaven forbid!” Ashley said, truly aghast at the notion.

Jo chuckled. “Thought that would provide sufficient motivation for you to call home more often. Love you.”

“You, too, brat.”

She hung up the phone slowly and realized she was smiling, despite everything. She might not want her family hovering, but it meant the world to know that they were there if she needed them.




7


Josh arrived at Rose Cottage by 7:00 a.m., but Melanie and Maggie had beaten him there. He spotted their cars as he crossed the backyard from the dock. Something told him that word of Ashley’s latest crisis had spread despite his own attempts to keep it under wraps during Mike’s visit. He was beginning to realize that the D’Angelo grapevine was an efficient means of communication. He hadn’t decided yet if that was good or bad.

He tapped on the back door and walked in to find all three sisters at the kitchen table. Ashley looked as if she were under siege. She turned to him so eagerly, it made his heart skip a beat or two. He wished he could believe that welcome was specifically for him, and wouldn’t have been given to anyone who’d walked in the door just then.

“Time to go?” she asked, leaping to her feet. “I’m ready.”

“Not so fast, big sister,” Maggie said. “Josh, perhaps you would like a cup of coffee before you go?” It wasn’t really a question. She was already pouring the coffee, and the determined glint in her eyes was more command than inquiry.

Josh glanced at Ashley and caught the pleading expression in her eyes. Even though he understood and shared her sisters’ well-meaning concern, he opted to side with her for now. “Sorry. No time. We have an appointment.”

“With some fish,” Melanie noted dryly. “I didn’t know they kept date books. I imagine they won’t be all that disappointed if you’re a little late.”

“These are very busy fish,” Josh retorted, undaunted by her undisguised skepticism. “And you know what they say about early birds.”

“They get the worm,” Maggie responded. “Which I don’t think applies in this instance.” She frowned at Ashley, then relented. “Okay, go, but we’re not finished with you.”

“I think I got that,” Ashley said, sounding resigned.

“What time will you be back?” Maggie asked Josh.

“Hard to say,” he responded evasively, suspecting they would be waiting on the doorstep if he gave them a specific hour. “With this whole relaxation thing, we try not to think in terms of timetables.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Oh, please,” she scoffed. “I don’t know about you, but my sister’s brain is equipped with an automatic day planner. I’m relatively certain she has no idea how to turn it off.”

“I’ve noticed,” Josh admitted. “We’re working on that. She’s already made impressive strides. You’d be surprised.” He beamed at both of them. “See you.”

He stepped aside to let Ashley bolt past him. She was halfway to the dock before he caught up with her. To his shock, she threw her arms around his neck.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she enthused. “Your timing was impeccable. I told them you were coming, but they didn’t believe me. They thought I was just trying to get rid of them.”

He grinned. “Which you were.”

“Well, of course.”

“I gather someone filled them in about the whole Slocum situation.”

“My folks,” she admitted. “Had to be, since Jo hadn’t been able to reach them. She reluctantly agreed not to call again, but Mom and Dad refused to commit to silence.”

“Then you have spoken to your folks since last night?”

“Yes. After I talked to Jo and found out they were being pestered by reporters, I had to call them. I was trying to convince my father to limit himself to ‘no comment.’”

Josh heard the combination of frustration and amusement in her voice. “A thankless task?” he guessed.

“You have no idea,” she said ruefully. “He’s been using this opportunity to vent about media irresponsibility. I suppose I should be grateful. It’s doubtful any reporter will call him a second time.” She gave him a wistful look. “Can we table this subject till later? Maybe reinstitute the rules of our bet and keep work off-limits? I’ve done nothing but think about this mess all night long. I could use a break from it.”

He noted the dullness in her eyes and the shadows under them.

“Absolutely,” he told her. “In fact, once we anchor offshore, you can take a little nap, if you like.”

She gave him a surprisingly indignant look. “You’re assuming I won’t be catching any fish today?”

He chuckled. “You don’t even have to cast your line, unless you really want to. Remember, the object is to sort of drift along, watch the clouds roll by and relax. Fishing is just an excuse to leave all your cares behind and be out on the water on a beautiful day.”

“I wish I could,” she said wistfully.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Josh promised. “Sometimes relaxing takes a little effort.”

She frowned at him. “Isn’t that an oxymoron or something?”

“I suppose it is, if you feel the need to analyze it to death.”

She nodded, her expression serious. “Got it. No analyzing. No thinking. Just drifting.”

“Exactly.”

She settled back against the cushion he’d propped on the seat, tugged down the brim of her cap and closed her eyes. Josh watched as her tensed muscles finally began to relax. Her bare legs and arms were turning a golden brown and her cheeks had a healthy glow, even if it couldn’t quite dispel the evidence of her exhaustion. Silently, he waited for her breathing to fall into a slow, steady rhythm.

Just when he thought she’d fallen asleep, she murmured, “Josh?”

“What?”

“Don’t you dare catch a fish while I’m taking a break.”

“Why not? It’s my turn. You’ve caught all the others.”

Her lips quirked in undisguised triumph. “Oh, right, I have, haven’t I? I’ve caught three, and you haven’t caught any.”

He barely contained a laugh. “And you felt the need to remind me of that because…?”

“Knowing I’m ahead makes it easier to rest.”

“Then, by all means, gloat,” he replied quietly. “I can take it.”

“You’re a nice man,” she said.

Josh sighed. There it was again. Nice. One of these days he was going to have to get around to showing her just how wicked he could be. Something told him that with Ashley in his arms, he could top his very best efforts to date.

The instant Ashley woke up from her nap, she peered into the bucket of salt water. “No fish?” she asked Josh, trying to keep a gloating note out of her voice. It wasn’t her fault that she’d turned out to have a knack for it that he seemed to lack.

“Actually I caught five whoppers,” he said. “Threw them all back.”

“Yeah, right. Speaking of whoppers…”

“Hey, I did,” he insisted, his expression perfectly serious. Only the twinkle in his eyes gave him away. “How was your nap?”

“Restful,” she admitted.

“Good.”

“What time is it? How long did I sleep?”

“A couple of hours, actually. It’s almost ten. I was about to slather some more suntan lotion on you.”

She grinned. “Sounds like fun,” she teased, handing him the bottle. “Just pretend I’m asleep.”

“But you’re not. You could do it yourself.”

“Come on, Josh. Go along with me here. Be daring.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, sweetheart, you want to take risks, it’s fine with me.” He took the outstretched bottle, poured lotion in his palm, then told her to turn around.

Ashley jerked when the cool lotion hit her bare shoulders. In a heartbeat, though, she wasn’t even aware of the lotion, only of Josh’s hands on her skin. It was evident that he had no intention of making quick work of the application. He stroked slowly. He caressed. He sent goose bumps dancing across her flesh until Ashley could hardly breathe.

When his fingers dipped into the low V on her back, skimmed down her spine, then slipped just beneath the fabric of her swimsuit, she almost jumped right out of the boat. He’d turned her taunt into a torment, a seduction. She could feel her nipples beading. Warmth pooled between her thighs. She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath, aware that they were playing a very dangerous game, one he’d apparently anticipated.

“Enough?” Josh asked, his voice suspiciously thick, even though it was evident he was taunting her.

Ashley wasn’t quite ready to call it quits. Somehow he’d gotten the upper hand. She wanted it back. “You forgot the front,” she told him, slowly turning to face him.

His gaze locked with hers, his eyes glinting wicked sparks. “Do you really, really want me to go on?”

Swallowing hard, she nodded.

He squirted more lotion into his palm, then smoothed it across her chest. His fingers skimmed along the edge of her bathing suit, then took a sudden dip into the cleavage.

“Wouldn’t want you to get burned there,” he murmured, holding her gaze. “That’s very tender skin.”

“Uh-huh,” she whispered as he shifted his attention to her arms. He seemed to be intent on the soft, pale and surprisingly sensitive underside.

“What about your legs?” he inquired eventually. “Shall I do those?”

Ashley figured she could stand it if he could. “Sure,” she said, determined to play out the game she’d started.

Of course, she hadn’t realized just how long he could draw out the process. He didn’t miss so much as a freckle or a pore, not from the tips of her toes to the tops of her thighs. She was all but coming unglued when he finally pronounced the job done. It took everything in her not to beg him not to stop.

“Thank you,” she said primly. “You were very thorough.”

“Any job worth doing is worth doing well,” he said, a knowing sparkle in his eyes.

She couldn’t seem to make herself meet his gaze. “How safe is this water?” she asked.

“For what?”

“Swimming.”

“Safe enough. Why?”

Without bothering to respond, she dove over the side of the boat. The water was colder than she’d anticipated, but it felt good against her overheated skin. She finally broke the surface gasping for air, but with her hormones back in check.

“Cool off?” Josh inquired, amusement threading through his voice.

“Sure did,” she said cheerfully. “You should try it.”

“No, thanks.”

“Chicken?”

“You are not going to dare me to dive in there with you,” he scolded.

“I just did,” she corrected. “I guess you’re not up to the challenge.”

“Oh, darlin’, that was a very bad idea, especially coming from a woman who just washed off most of the suntan lotion she had me put on. Are you angling for another application?”

She saw the worrisome spark of mischief in his eye right before he dove overboard. Just when she was wondering where he was going to surface, he grabbed her ankle and pulled her under. She came up sputtering.

“You rat!” she accused. “That was playing dirty.”

“I wasn’t aware there were any rules for this particular game,” he said, bobbing just beyond her reach. “You gonna get even?”

Her teeth were starting to chatter, but she rose to the bait. “You bet,” she said, diving below the surface.

She was so sure he was right in front of her, but the next thing she knew, he’d circled her waist from behind and lifted her out of the water. She shook the hair and water out of her eyes as he slowly turned her around to face him. As her body slid along his, she realized that he was totally and impressively aroused. He fit their bodies together with only the wafer-thin fabric of her swimsuit and his between them, then captured her mouth beneath his. By the time the kiss ended, Ashley was on fire.

She clung to his shoulders and looked into his eyes. “How is it possible to be this hot when the water’s like ice?”

“Makes you wonder why there’s not steam rising all around us, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, not ready to move away from him. Buoyed by the water, she hooked her legs around his waist.

Josh’s gaze narrowed. “What are you up to now?”

“Just holding on,” she insisted innocently.

“Just tormenting me sounds more like it,” he retorted.

She grinned. “Is it working?”

He shifted ever so slightly. “What do you think?”

“Definitely working.”

“Are you thinking it’s safe to play this kind of game out here because nothing will come of it?” he inquired curiously.

She thought about that. “Yes,” she admitted.

“Then you have no intention of going back to dry land and finishing what you’ve started?”

Taking the question seriously, she gave it some thought. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” she began.

“Same here,” he said. “But we’ve agreed that the timing is all wrong.”

She nodded, suddenly feeling guilty. “Sorry. I’m not playing fair, am I?”

“It’s not about playing fair,” he said. “It’s about playing with fire. If you’re counting on me being a nice guy and keeping the game under control, don’t. Even I have my limits, Ashley, and you are most definitely testing them.”

Ashley heard the somber note in his voice and realized she’d pushed too far. Maybe she’d meant to. Maybe she’d needed to, but it wasn’t all about her desires. For things to go any further, they really, really needed to be on the same page at the same time.

“How about lunch?” she asked, scrambling back into the boat and pulling a shirt on over her swimsuit. She shivered, despite the warmth of the sun. “I’ll buy.”





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