Книга - Love For All Time

Love For All Time
Kianna Alexander


The TV star he admired from a distance just descended on his beach town…Sapphire Shores is rolling out the red carpet for Sierra Dandridge, aka the “Ice Queen.” But real estate scion Campbell Monroe finds nothing cold about the worldly beauty. Their sizzling desire culminates in an intimate affair neither wants to end. Until a younger actress’s vicious social media campaign threatens Sierra’s career and her life…







The TV star he admired from a distance—

just descended on his beach town...

Sapphire Shores is rolling out the red carpet for Sierra Dandridge, aka the Ice Queen. But real estate scion Campbell Monroe finds nothing cold about the worldly beauty. Their sizzling desire culminates in an intimate affair neither wants to end. Until a younger actress’s vicious social media campaign threatens Sierra’s career, and her life...


KIANNA ALEXANDER, like any good Southern belle, wears many hats: loving wife, doting mama, advice-dispensing sister and gabbing girlfriend. She’s a voracious reader, an amateur seamstress and occasional painter in oils. Chocolate, American history, sweet tea and Idris Elba are a few of her favorite things. A native of the Tar Heel state, Kianna still lives there with her husband, two kids and a collection of well-loved vintage ’80s Barbie dolls. You can keep up with Kianna’s releases and appearances by signing up for her mailing list at www.authorkiannaalexander.com/sign-up (http://www.authorkiannaalexander.com/sign-up).


Also By Kianna Alexander (#ulink_639bb59a-2720-56de-9905-b96771f7768c)

This Tender Melody

Every Beat of My Heart

A Sultry Love Song

Tempo of Love

A Love Like This

A San Diego Romance

Love for All Time

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


LOVE FOR ALL TIME

Kianna Alexander






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


ISBN: 978-1-474-08602-8

LOVE FOR ALL TIME

© 2018 Eboni Manning

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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


“Do you really think that? Or is this just flattery?”

“It’s the truth. Yeah, I’ll admit I feel like a teenaged boy who got pulled onstage with his favorite singer right now.” Damn. Didn’t mean to say that aloud. He ran a hand over his face. “But I meant every word I said.”

The soft smile on her face grew even bigger. “Wow.”

He smiled back, still trying to read that look in her eyes. What is she thinking right now?

A moment later, she leaned toward him. Her small hand came up to cup his jaw. “You’re quite the charmer, Campbell Monroe.”

“Not really.” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers. His face tingled beneath the warmth of her touch. “I’m just honest.”

She tilted her head, letting her eyes drift closed as her lips formed that unmistakable pucker shape.

He didn’t know how they’d gotten here but he wasn’t about to turn down an invitation like that. He placed a hand on her shoulder, then gently touched his lips to hers.


Dear Reader (#uc2cc61a1-a734-5991-92e7-04619660c197),

Thanks for picking up a copy of Love for All Time. I hope you enjoy returning to Sapphire Shores with me. Lots of things are changing on the island, and the characters are undergoing changes, as well. Campbell Monroe has thought himself impervious to developing feelings for a woman. Now Sierra Dandridge is going to challenge everything he thought he knew. I hope you enjoy the story, and I look forward to your feedback on social media or via my website contact form.

Best,

Kianna


For my brother Eric. May you discover the purpose that lies within you, and may your dreams become reality.


Contents

Cover (#u984ca86d-8189-5645-a63d-4365d94c88f5)

Back Cover Text (#u60949d8b-7d2a-59b0-8912-175956101a2f)

About the Author (#u9f2d46c7-2828-5b9a-b9c4-b05de612172d)

Booklist (#ulink_d0ffdf9f-64f7-54d1-9784-aba2d32e7d6e)

Title Page (#u0968fa7d-ef14-5867-9b4c-6ad35d42e263)

Copyright (#u8015de5e-273b-5dac-8608-671c43af2aeb)

Introduction (#ued49cb3c-2d0e-5c26-9998-1b04f55f65ea)

Dear Reader (#u08ad89b7-241e-5fce-9c49-562c04d82d21)

Dedication (#ueac3e884-b447-51eb-844f-7a771d89fa88)

Chapter 1 (#u2a9281b1-d8df-59d9-90c4-5bd7a1ddb4ea)

Chapter 2 (#u11a20721-e418-5af6-af59-34d508be020d)

Chapter 3 (#u42eed20e-a9a8-5bc2-9363-5bb137afc2e2)

Chapter 4 (#ua7e90a9c-3a90-56a3-90df-49973c57125b)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter 1 (#uc2cc61a1-a734-5991-92e7-04619660c197)

“Do we have to film this scene today?” Sitting in the back of the chauffeur-driven sedan, Sierra Dandridge looked hopefully toward the passenger seat.

Up front, Jazmin shook her head. “I don’t even know why you asked me that, girl.” Having often said she didn’t like being chauffeured around, she always sat up front.

Sierra sighed at the inevitable response. Me, either. “It was worth a shot.”

Jazmin chuckled. “No, it wasn’t.” She turned around to look her way. “You know I sympathize with you, as a friend. But as a producer of the show, I’m gonna need you to get it together.”

Rolling her eyes, Sierra flopped against the leather seat. “I know, I know.” It wasn’t as if she disliked her role on the new drama series The Shores. Even though the show had cast her to play “to type,” and she hated being pigeonholed, she still enjoyed the role. As filming locations went, though, the island of Sapphire Shores was about as dull as it could get. “I guess we may as well get it over with.”

“Don’t worry. This is your last scene with Mia for at least a few days or so.”

“I’ll take whatever break from her you can give me.”

“I know you and Mia aren’t exactly close,” Jazmin quipped. “But she’s your colleague. I expect you two to keep it professional.”

Rolling her eyes at the mention of that name, Sierra nodded. “Always. I never mess around when it comes to my coins. But I can’t speak for Mia.”

Mia Leigh, the lead actress on The Shores, had become the bane of her existence. This season’s script had Sierra and Mia cast as “frenemies,” complete with the much younger Mia being slick at the mouth with Sierra. That would be fine with Sierra, if only Mia could keep that drama on the set. Petty as she was, Ms. Leigh seemed to have a real-life vendetta against Sierra.

“If she wants to keep this job, she’ll get her attitude together,” Jazmin declared. “Casting isn’t my department, but I won’t hesitate to go to the higher-ups if Mia insists on being the problem child.”

Sierra reached into her bag, taking out her compact. She looked at her reflection, making sure the makeup artist’s work remained intact. After running a brush through her hair and tucking it and the compact away, she turned her attention back to the passing scenery.

Despite the island’s total lack of nightlife or entertainment, it was one of the most beautiful places she’d ever worked, in terms of scenery. The day was a bit overcast, but sunlight peeked through the clouds to sparkle on the crystal surface of the Atlantic. The picturesque scene reminded her of when she’d filmed High Treason off the coast of Maine. She hoped the nice weather would hold, at least until she got back to her hotel. It was a mid-September Monday, and in the few weeks she’d been on the island, she’d noticed how quickly the weather seemed to change.

The car slowed to go over a series of speed bumps leading into the Tracemore Plaza area. As the vehicle rounded the traffic circle and moved toward an empty space in the parking lot, she could see other members of the show’s cast and crew gathered outside the entrance to Della’s Deli. The sandwich shop, one of their most used filming locations, served great food and had a lovely atmosphere. Although Mia’s attitude ruins it every time. She rolled her eyes.

The driver parked the car and walked around to open Sierra’s door. Jazmin, ever the girl-next-door, saw herself out of the passenger seat as the driver opened the back door and helped Sierra to her feet. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she drew in a deep breath of the salty air.

She followed Jazmin toward the entrance to the deli. As her friend donned her headset and began conversing with the crew, Sierra cut through the gaggle of people, waving and acknowledging many of them, but choosing not to engage Mia. Once she made her way through, she waited by the glass doors for her cue. Leaning against the exterior wall, she contented herself with watching the camerawoman, boom operator and lighting tech ready their equipment for the scene they were about to film. Watching the cast and crew buzzing around, preparing to shoot a scene, always filled her with a sense of anticipation. She loved what she did, loved bringing each character she portrayed to life in her own special way. Each scene she filmed gave her a new opportunity to do what she loved most. A smile touched her lips.

The smile quickly faded as she noticed Mia strutting her way. She couldn’t ever remember having seen Mia just...walk. She always strutted, much like a peacock with its colors on full display. Tall and lithe, the fair-skinned, dark-eyed twentysomething was runway beautiful. That made sense; she’d parlayed her background in modeling high fashion into an acting career. She was dressed to the nines, though some of the credit for that went to the wardrobe department. Her bright red handbag stood out in contrast to her muted royal blue romper. Her close-cropped black hair, sprayed and coiffed to perfection, barely moved as she approached.

Mia’s lips spread into a plastic smile that showed most of her teeth. “Hey, Sierra.”

“Hello, Mia.” She’d spoken to her, and hoped that would be the end of their interaction.

To her chagrin, Mia continued. “So, are you ready for this scene? The script says we’re supposed to be arguing today.”

What kind of silly question is that? What, does she think I just roll up to the set without reading the damn script? Gathering her patience, she nodded. “I know, and yes, I’m ready.”

“Arguing with you isn’t that hard for me.” She looked off to the side in a dramatic fashion. “Since I don’t really like you that much.”

She sighed. “And why is that, Mia?”

Mia’s wayward gaze returned to Sierra’s face. “You’re a fading flower that refuses to acknowledge the new blossoms in the garden.” She reached up to adjust a tendril of hair by her ear.

Sierra tipped her head to one side, offering a cold smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Mia, you’re an intelligent girl. You even turn a decent metaphor. But there are a lot of things about this industry that you just don’t know.”

Folding her arms over her chest, Mia snapped, “So what? I’m young, I’ve got talent and determination, and that’s all I need.”

“If only that were true.” Sierra had been in the game long enough to know the kinds of pitfalls that awaited budding actresses. She’s going to need more than her looks and her stubbornness if she really wants to make it. In any other case, she’d be reaching out to mentor a young actress just starting out in the business. But it was clear Mia was more interested in being catty than in learning from someone more experienced.

Jazmin walked over then. Taking a moment to look from one to the other, she paused, then stood between them. Her expression said she sensed the tension hanging in the air. “Everything okay over here, ladies? We’re getting ready to start the filming.”

Sierra nodded tightly, because she was eager to get through the scene and away from the “fatal blossom.”

“Oh, everything’s fine between us,” Mia trilled. “My mother taught me to always respect my elders.” On the heels of her declaration, she turned and strutted away.

A deep sigh left Sierra’s lips.

Jazmin touched her shoulder. “Remember your promise, Sierra.”

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten. I’m going to keep it professional, whether she does or not.” Like she’d said before, Sierra never messed around when it came to her money. She loved her role on the show, and she intended to keep this job going for as long as she could.

And in spite of Mia’s funky attitude, she wasn’t about to let a naive, cocky little upstart interfere with her earning potential.

Drawing a deep breath, she went to take her mark for the start of the scene. It called for her to be standing next to Mia, near the door of the deli. Ignoring Mia’s smug expression, she waited.

When the cameras and lights turned her way, she came alive.

* * *

With a cup of coffee in hand, Campbell Monroe reclined against the cushioned backrest of the bench. He was sitting in a booth at Della’s, enjoying a late lunch. It had been past two when he’d finally left the office and made the quick drive to the restaurant. Now, as the three o’clock hour neared, he was capping off his lunch with a cup of coffee and a slice of Della’s famous apple crumb cake.

He figured the late lunch would make the perfect segue into his next meeting. A client had requested to meet him here, to discuss the possibility of purchasing a condominium. He’d told the woman it would take some work to secure a unit, and he’d meant it. Since Devon Franklin had opened his newly built studio about two months ago, and started filming his show The Shores almost immediately after, Sapphire Shores had seen a large influx in population. The show’s talent, crew and studio employees had moved onto the island, mixing with the already robust crowd of tourists, to create a perfect storm of growth. Since Monroe Holdings, Incorporated, the real estate empire started by Campbell’s parents, owned most of the properties on the island, business was brisker than ever.

He pushed away the ceramic plate, which now held only crumbs as evidence of the cake he’d devoured. One of Della’s staff members dutifully whisked the plate away, just as he saw the lady he was to meet with entering. She was older than him, in her mid-to upper fifties, he guessed, and she moved with an air of certainty and grace.

Campbell stood as she approached the booth, extending his hand to her. “Mrs. Fairbanks. Lovely to see you.”

She nodded, shook his head. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Monroe.”

He gestured to the bench across the table from him. “Please, have a seat. Let’s talk about what you’re looking for.”

She nodded and slipped into the seat.

He sat once she was settled. “Would you like anything before we get started? A beverage? Maybe some of Della’s apple crumb cake?”

She shook her head. “No, thanks.” Pushing her gold, wire-rimmed glasses up on the bridge of her nose, she fixed her gaze on him. “I’m looking for a nice, low-maintenance place I can use as a vacation retreat during the colder months. Winters are brutal up in Philadelphia, and I’d love to have a place I can escape to before the snow hits.”

“Sounds reasonable. We’ve had an influx of folks coming onto the island recently, so you’ll need a healthy budget in order to secure a unit at this point.” He scratched his chin, waiting. He’d been property manager at MHI for over a decade now, and he never used a hard sell. He simply listened to his clients and tried to meet their needs.

She quoted a number. “Will that be enough?”

He smiled. “Certainly. I have just the place in mind for you.” With her generous budget, she’d have her pick of some of the choicest units in Cape Glenn or Shoreside Manor, the two most upscale developments on the island. “You’ll have a lot of flexibility with that.”

“Great. I figured units would be hard to come by, what with the show filming here and all that.”

His brow hitched. “So, you know about The Shores?”

She nodded, her expression brightening. “Sure do. I love that show.” She looked wistful for a moment. “My late husband was always on me about watching the soaps, but I never did give them up. I love a messy plot.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “From what I heard, messy plot is at the heart of the show.”

“You don’t watch it?”

“No. Can’t say I have much free time these days.” Since his little sister, Hadley, had married actor-turned-producer-and-studio-head Devon Franklin, she’d been pulling a lot fewer hours at the office. That meant that the pile of work he often left for her went unfinished, unless he did it himself. Her absence had forced him to take on more of the workload than he was accustomed to.

“To be honest—” she lowered her voice to a whisper “—that’s why I wanted to meet you at Della’s. It says on the website that the show films here sometimes, and I’m hoping to catch a bit of the action while I’m here.”

Amused, he nodded. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll luck out.” He’d seen the headlines in the local paper, and the reviews comparing the show to the old nighttime soaps like Knot’s Landing. While his mother had been a fan of those shows, he didn’t really remember much about them. So far, the only compelling reason he saw to watch was Sierra.

“I hope so.” His client glanced around, then pointed to the wall mural depicting an undersea scene. “I recognize that wall. I’ve seen it on the show.”

He thought it better to steer the conversation back to her search for property. “So, how long will you be in town?”

“About another week. I’m staying with my son and his wife over in Wilmington.”

“Great. Then we’ll need to schedule a time that’s good for you to tour a few units, and...”

He stopped midsentence as a menagerie of cameras, flashing lights and bodies burst through the door into the deli’s interior. Knowing right away what was up, he shook his head. Looks like Mrs. Fairbanks is getting her wish.

Mrs. Fairbanks whirled around, then stood. “Goodness. It’s happening.”

The gaggle of bodies by the door parted long enough for two women to make their way through to the counter. The cameras were trained on them, recording their every step.

Campbell watched them, too. The tall, youthful one with the red purse was attractive, and looked somewhat familiar. He knew some of the cast, just from interacting with them. The island wasn’t terribly large, so he’d met a number of them. That’s, uh, what was her name? Megan? Martha?

He shifted his focus to the more petite woman. Sierra Dandridge, the famed actress, didn’t require an introduction. The newest, and possibly the most famous cast member of The Shores, she’d only recently arrived on the island. A formfitting black dress with long sleeves hugged her shapely, compact frame, and she stood confidently on a pair of tall, impossibly narrow black stilettos. She wore her hair in long waves down her back, and it was currently dyed a silvery lavender. The color of her hair, along with her closed-off stance, perfectly fit the “Ice Queen” image the press ascribed to her. Still, Campbell couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen anyone so strikingly beautiful. He’d had a crush on her since he’d seen her in the spy thriller Waltz at Midnight several years ago. It amazed him that she was just as gorgeous in person as she was on screen.

Mrs. Fairbanks, vibrating with excitement, stared in the direction of the cast and crew. “I’m not going to go over there. I know better than to interrupt the filming. But this is so exciting!”

Campbell chuckled. He’d managed to avoid the filming for most of the three months it had been going on. But his turn to be a part of the madness had apparently come around.

Once he got Mrs. Fairbanks to sit back down, he scheduled an appointment with her for later in the week. By then, Sierra and her costar were in a booth on the far side of the room, with the show’s crew clustered around them to capture their conversation. That freed up the front entrance, making a much appreciated path of escape.

He stood, extending his hand toward Mrs. Fairbanks. “It was lovely talking to you, and I look forward to our meeting.”

“Thank you, Mr. Monroe.” She barely took her eyes off the hubbub near the booth. “Are you really rushing off? Don’t you want to watch the filming?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m not really into that sort of thing. Besides, I have a ton of work waiting on my desk.”

“Okay, then. Have a good day. I’m gonna stay, and see if I can get some autographs when they finish!” The giddiness came through in her voice.

“Best of luck.” With a chuckle, Campbell turned and walked away. With a parting wave to Della and her staff, he swung open the door and stepped out into the humid afternoon air.

As he climbed into his black-on-black convertible, his mind strayed again to his beautiful celebrity crush, currently sitting less than fifty yards away from him.

With a wry smile, he dropped the top and started the engine.

So close, and yet so far.


Chapter 2 (#uc2cc61a1-a734-5991-92e7-04619660c197)

Tuesday morning, Sierra’s hand grasped the cool steel of the door handle at Monroe Holdings, Incorporated. Before she could pull it open, she noticed a tall, handsome brotha approaching from the other side. She stepped back as he pushed the door open.

She started to introduce herself. “Good morning, I’m...”

The man smiled, his teeth as brilliant and white as a polished string of pearls. “I know who you are. Good morning, Miss Dandridge. Welcome to MHI.”

“Thank you.” She entered the building and he closed the door behind her. They stood only a few feet apart, and with each inhaled breath, she took in a bit of his cologne. It smelled expensive, woodsy and masculine.

She looked him over. He towered over her by a good four inches. He had dark hair, trimmed close, and dark brown eyes flecked with gold. A thin, neatly trimmed goatee framed his full lips, and a small diamond stud sparkled in his right earlobe. His body, fit and athletic, made the perfect canvas to display his tailored royal blue suit, crisp white shirt and bright green tie.

She brought her gaze back up to his face, and she recalled seeing him in Della’s the previous day. She could also feel his unveiled scrutiny as he stared at her. Realizing one of them had to speak so they wouldn’t spend the morning staring at each other, she asked, “And you are...”

He seemed to snap out of it; chuckled. “Forgive me. I’m Campbell Monroe.” He extended his hand to shake hers. “I’ll be helping you choose a rental unit.”

She returned his firm handshake. “Great. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Monroe.”

Flashing that gorgeous smile again, he shook his head. “No need to be so formal, Ms. Dandridge. Call me Campbell, or Cam.”

“Okay, Campbell.” She smiled back, careful not to oversell it. Her pulse raced, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Follow me.” He started walking toward a corridor to the right.

She followed him until he led her into his office. He sat behind the large oak desk and gestured for her to sit, as well. Taking the upholstered chair opposite him, she placed her purse on her lap. The space appeared just as masculine as its occupant. The walls, painted a deep shade of burgundy, hosted his bachelor’s and master’s degrees, several sports and movie posters, and a few modern art pieces. The tall shelves lining the walls were filled with various nonfiction titles, and a few trophies and knickknacks. When her eyes swung to the movie poster hanging on the wall directly behind his desk, she couldn’t help smiling.

“So, Ms. Dandridge. We’re excited to have an actress of your caliber staying with us here in Sapphire Shores.”

His voice drew her attention and her gaze back to his handsome face. “Thank you, Campbell, that’s very kind.”

“I mean, Waltz at Midnight is one of my favorite movies of all time, mainly because of your stellar performance.” He gestured to the movie poster behind him. “That’s one of my most treasured possessions.”

“I’m flattered. It was only my third film, but I really did enjoy playing the role.” Her cheeks warmed a bit. She wasn’t an egomaniac, but she’d thought she’d gotten past having a compliment affect her this way. In truth, it had been a minute since she’d been complimented by someone this fine. She sensed that he was very much a fan of her work, but she didn’t want to use the whole appointment on conversation about her past roles.

As if he sensed her thoughts, he opened his desk drawer and pulled out two booklets. “While I’m a big fan of your work, I don’t want to waste your time. So, let’s talk about the kind of rental unit you’d like.”

Grateful for the change of topic, she looked at the two glossy, full-color booklets he slid her way. “The Glenn and Shoreside Manor.”

“Those are our most upscale developments on the island, and also our newest ones. The Glenn opened back in May, and Shoreside Manor in July.” He rested his elbows on the desk and tented his fingers. “So, why don’t you tell me the top three amenities that are most important to you.”

She nodded. “I’d like a good deal of privacy, easy access to a gym or workout room, and security.”

He scratched his chin. “Based on what you’re saying, I’d recommend The Glenn. They’re large luxury condominium units, and there’s a lot less traffic and noise on the inlet side of the island.”

She listened as he described square footage of the units, the laundry valet service and the well-appointed clubhouse, complete with workout room. One thing she’d requested, though, was left out of his description. “Everything you’ve mentioned sounds wonderful, Campbell. But what about the security?”

He snapped his fingers. “Yes, sorry about that. The Glenn is a gated community with twenty-four-hour surveillance, both remotely and through the on-site guard.”

“I’m assuming the guard has a station at the entrance gate?”

“Yes.”

“What about security for the individual units?”

His brow cocked as if the question surprised him, but he slid smoothly into an answer. “Each unit has an electronic security system. Cameras are placed all around the property, and every square inch has coverage.”

She shifted in her seat. “That sounds great. But what if I require something more? Is it possible for me to get a security guard for my unit?”

He frowned a bit. “I’m not sure that would be necessary, Ms. Dandridge. You won’t find a safer place in the country than our little island.”

“That may be so, but this is a unique situation. In my line of work, I’ve seen what people are capable of. I’ve dealt with stalkers and crazed fans in the past, and I’d rather not do it again.” She decided not to tell him about the guy she’d found scaling the fence at her house in Los Angeles, or the one who’d tried spying on her with a drone. At least not now.

Sitting back in his chair, he looked thoughtful for a moment. “I may be able to arrange something for you, but it will take some time. The Glenn isn’t staffed for that sort of thing.”

“I can understand that. I would really like a guard, though, and I’d really appreciate it if you could make that happen.” She returned the booklets to him.

“No problem.” He picked up a pen from a cup on his desk. “Let me show you the video tour of the unit, so you can see how it’s laid out.” He entered some commands onto his computer’s keyboard, then turned the monitor her way.

For the next few minutes, she watched the screen, impressed by the unit’s layout, furnishings and decor. “It’s lovely. It looks like just the sort of place I want. What do I need to do next?”

“We’ll need to do a bit of paperwork, and I’ll collect your deposit and the first month’s rent. Then you’ll leave a list of the groceries you want, and we’ll take care of the rest.”

“How long will it be before I can get into the unit?” She’d long since gotten tired of the chain hotel she was staying in. While the place was serviceable, she thrived on privacy and there was just too much noise and commotion there.

“I can get you in tomorrow, as long as I can get the cleaning crew in there in the next couple of hours.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Then as soon as I leave here, I’ll start packing.”

For the next twenty minutes, he worked with her through the property agreement. After she’d signed her name to the document, and selected her desired groceries from the extensive checklist he gave her, she passed his pen back to him.

She sat by as he made calls to the personal shopper and the cleaning crew. Once he was done, he set his phone aside. “You’re all set, Ms. Dandridge. Your unit should be ready around 1:00 p.m. tomorrow. Since you put your mobile number on the form, I’ll text you the address.”

She stood. “Thank you for your help.”

He pushed his chair back and stood, as well. “Thank you for your business.” Another megawatt smile followed his words.

Turning away lest she started staring at him again, she slung her purse strap over her shoulder and exited.

Back in her car, she let herself feel the glow of his fanboy crush on her for a few moments. Then she banished the thoughts from her mind. Crush or not, she didn’t have time for romance right now. The show took up all her free time.

And based on her experiences with men, she wasn’t missing anything.

* * *

As Campbell moved his stool closer to the bar at the Salty Siren, the wooden feet scraped over the concrete floors. Next to him, his old friend and new brother-in-law, Devon Franklin, drank from a mug of root beer, his eyes trained on one of the big screen televisions. The burger and fries he’d ordered for lunch were on the bar in front of him.

“Sorry I’m late. I see you ordered without me.”

Devon shrugged but didn’t look away from the television. “I didn’t have time to wait. I gotta be back at the studio by a quarter after one.”

“What’s got your attention, man?”

Devon sat the mug down. “Haven’t you heard? There’s a pretty big tropical storm out in the Atlantic right now.”

Campbell’s eyes widened. September was the peak hurricane season around these parts, but things had been relatively quiet over the last few years. “Good grief. What’s going on with it?”

“Just watch the news report, man.” Devon kept his gaze on the screen.

Campbell looked, as well, paying close attention to both the on-screen graphics and the words of the local meteorologist.

“Tropical storm Hester is churning in the Atlantic as we speak, folks. She’s an angry one, but due to the cool front approaching from the west, we don’t expect her to be upgraded or to come on shore for the mainland. However, she does pose the threat of heavy rain, strong winds, rough surf and possible flooding to the islands off the coasts of North Carolina and South Carolina. We expect to see the main impact from the storm over the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours.”

Well, shit. Campbell hoped the storm wouldn’t cause too much damage. MHI always kept storm preparedness supplies on hand and crews on call this time of year, but the island was abuzz with the cast and crew of The Shores, as well as all the extra tourists who’d come in with them.

Devon turned his way after the weather report ended. “It’s looking kind of dicey on the weather front. I’d better have the crew film as many scenes as they can this afternoon, in case we have to close down production for a few days.”

Shaking his head, Campbell signaled for Maddie, the waitress. “I hope it won’t be too bad. With all your people here, plus the folks who came onto the island trying to get on camera when y’all are filming, there are a lot of extra people on the island.”

“Yeah. I bet the police and fire people are getting geared up.”

“Probably.” Thinking MHI should brace for any impact the storm might bring, he fired off a quick text to Savion, letting him know to alert the crew that they might be needed over the next week.

Maddie came over then, and Campbell ordered a buffalo chicken salad and bottled water. After she left, he turned to Devon. “So, I had a meeting with your star earlier today, about a rental unit.”

Devon nodded. “So you met with Sierra. She’s something, isn’t she?”

He whistled. “Yes. She’s gorgeous, even more so than she is on-screen.”

Devon swallowed a mouthful of food, eyed him closely. “What are you saying, Cam? You trying to get with her?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I mean, yeah, but not really.” He waved his hand in front of him, dismissing the idea. “I don’t stand a chance with the ‘Ice Queen.’”

With a chuckle, Devon popped a fry into his mouth.

“What does that mean?”

“I’m saying, Cam. Don’t sell yourself short. Plus, Sierra isn’t nearly as cold as people make her out to be.”

“Really?” He folded his arms over his chest. “She seemed all-business this morning.”

“That’s how she is during business meetings, and that’s how she should be. Otherwise no one would take her seriously.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin and tossed it aside. “But when you talk to Sierra on a friendly basis, you’ll find out she’s really sweet.”

Cam’s thoughts wandered back to the image of her from this morning, which had embedded itself in his mind. She’d been dressed casually, in a pair of skinny jeans, a close-fitting white top and flats. Despite the casual outfit, there was no hiding her curvaceous frame. “I doubt I’ll ever get the chance for all of that with her.”

“You never know.” Devon drained the last of his root beer. “You’ll see her again, right?”

He nodded as Maddie slid his salad and drink in front of him. “Yeah. Tomorrow I’m meeting her at her condo with the keys.”

“See? Talk to her, and you’ll see what I mean.”

Campbell nodded, but he still had his doubts. Parts of him were now even more curious about just who Sierra Dandridge really was. I guess it’s not really fair to make a judgment about her personality, since we just met. Sure, any sighted man could see she was fine. But he really didn’t know anything about her beyond her physical appearance.

He’d make conversation with Sierra and see where it went. After all, as property manager, it was his job to make her feel welcome.

“I can see the gears turning over there,” Devon remarked. “What are you up to?”

Shaking his head, Campbell ignored the question and dug into his salad.

Devon folded his arms, waiting. “Cam?”

Campbell chuckled. “Let’s just say, when I see her tomorrow, I just may shoot my shot.”


Chapter 3 (#uc2cc61a1-a734-5991-92e7-04619660c197)

Sierra peered through the rain-slick windshield of her rental car as she drove down the road Wednesday afternoon. The trip from her hotel to the gated community took her halfway across the island, and she was glad the drive was almost over. What had begun as an overcast day with soft, drizzling rain had morphed into a dark, gray-skied downpour. The wipers ran at their fastest speed, giving her enough visibility to operate the car safely. But if the rain increased much more than this, she wouldn’t be driving anywhere else today.

Pulling up to the gate at The Glenn, she rolled her window halfway down and gave her name to the guard. The iron gates soon parted, allowing her entry to the complex. Driving through the area, she could see it looked just as picturesque as the photographs in the booklet. The buildings were built from multicolored bricks and accented with stone, and the grounds were manicured with shrubbery and flowers. The images in the brochure had been taken on a sunny day. Today, the plants looked beaten down by the rain and wind, but at least she knew they would look better once the weather cleared up.

She found her building, and pulled into a parking spot in front of it. A tall figure stood on the landing above her, and after she cut the engine, she took a closer look at his face. Campbell. Good, he’s already here. With her purse on her shoulder, she opened her umbrella and got out of the car. Jogging through the sheets of rain, she climbed the stairs to the second level of the building.

Beneath the canopy of the roof she closed her umbrella, and walked up to the door of unit 202 B, where Campbell stood. Before she could stop herself, she looked him over. He wore a pair of dark slacks and a light blue button-down shirt with the MHI logo on his front pocket. It was a very different look from the suit she’d seen him wearing in the office. Guess these are his casual work clothes. He looked just as good dressed this way as he had before, but she pushed that thought out of her mind, telling herself that what he wore and how he looked weren’t any of her concern.

She looked back to his face to find him smiling at her.

She blinked, tried to match his smile. Had he seen her staring at him?

Finally, he spoke. “Some weather we’re having.”

She nodded, relieved. Either he hadn’t seen her staring, or had decided not to bring it up. “Yeah. The storm must be pretty darn close.”

“Well, let me get you inside before the weather gets worse. The forecast says Hester’s gonna hang around for a while.” He extracted a single, silver key on an MHI key chain from his pocket.

She watched as he put the key in the lock...or attempted to.

His brow furrowed as he tried a second time to put the key into the lock. “What in the world?” After lifting the key chain in front of his face, he flipped it over and looked at it. He frowned, uttering a single word. “Crap.”

Confused, she asked, “What is it?”

“This isn’t the right key.” He slipped it back into his pocket. “The Glenn is laid out with two condos to each floor, an A unit and a B unit. This is the key to 202 A.”

She glanced to the left. “The unit next door? Can’t you just lease me that one, since we’re already here?”

He shook his head. “Sorry. That unit was rented earlier this morning. Aside from that, your unit is already set up with grocery delivery and everything you requested.”

Hopeful, she asked, “You got me a guard?”

He cleared his throat. “Let me revise that. Almost everything you requested is set up in this unit.”

She sighed, turning to face the parking lot. Moments later, the wind changed direction, and a spray of fat raindrops hit her in the face.

Wiping away some of the dampness with her hand, she looked to Campbell. “What do you need to do to get the right key? I’d really like to get out of this weather.”

“I’ll call my intern, Jacob. He rented the other unit, so I’ll see what he can tell me.”

While he talked on his cell phone, she moved away from the railing, resting her back against the wall in hopes of avoiding another involuntary shower. She tried to eavesdrop discreetly, but all she heard were a few of his deep-voiced words, in between the bouts of wind and rain.

When he disconnected the call, he turned her way. “The key is still at the office, but Jacob had put it away with the paperwork for the other unit. Even though it was rented today, they’re not moving in until tomorrow.”

“Is that policy? If so, why didn’t you put my key with my paperwork?”

He looked sheepish. “That was an error on my part. I had another appointment right after you and I didn’t match up your key. Sorry about that.”

She pursed her lips. Fine as he was, he seemed a little forgetful. “So, what happens now?”

“Jacob is going to bring the key here.”

She blinked several times. “So we’re just going to be waiting here, in this weather?”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Dandridge. But it’s either that or go sit in our cars until Jacob gets here.”

She looked out at the sky. It had grown even darker since she’d arrived, not to mention the heavier rain and the insistent winds. She shook her head. “Nah. I’ll wait here. I’m not going back down there.”

“I’d hate for you to have to stand up this whole time.” He moved closer to her.

Her heart rate sped up for a moment before she realized he was walking past her.

“Can I borrow your umbrella?”

She nodded, handing it off to him.

He opened it, then dashed down the stairs and into the driving rain. She watched as he went to his car, took something out of the back seat and locked up. Holding something close to his body, probably to keep it dry, he jogged back across the sidewalk and up the stairs. Once back on the landing, he closed the umbrella and dangled it over the railing, giving it a little shake. Then he handed the umbrella back to her, along with the thing he’d retrieved and had been clutching to his chest.

She took the soft bundle.

“I always keep a blanket in the car for emergencies. Fold it up a few times so you’ll have somewhere to sit.”

She did as he asked, and after she’d folded the thick, plaid blanket into a neat rectangle, she placed it next to the door and took a seat to one side. Looking up at the handsome man towering over her, she thought she’d follow her mother’s sage advice. When life gets salty, make margaritas. Rachel Myers Dandridge was known for her odd little sayings, and that was probably one of Sierra’s favorites. It meant make the best of a less than ideal situation. To that end, she patted the blanket next to her. “You can sit here. There’s plenty of room.”

He seemed surprised. “Really?”

“Sure. No reason for you to stand up the whole time, either.”

“Even though I got you into this mess?” He seemed pretty disappointed with himself.

“Everybody makes mistakes, Campbell. Besides, it’s your blanket.” She patted the spot again. “Join me.” Even as she asked him to sit, she realized how rare it was for her to do something like this. She hadn’t earned her nickname by being cordial to men, especially those that inconvenienced her. But something about Campbell intrigued her. There was something endearing, and, if she were honest, enticing, about him.

Finally, he nodded, and took a seat next to her. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She realized her rectangle wasn’t as long as she’d thought, because now that he’d sat down, his muscular outer thigh pressed against her own. A tingle went through her body, originating from the point of contact and radiating through her every cell.

* * *

Campbell shifted a bit to his left, trying to put a little distance between them out of respect. But there wasn’t much farther he could move without ruining his slacks on the concrete landing, so he stilled. Their thighs were touching, and there was no way she hadn’t noticed. If it bothered her, she didn’t let on.

The swirling wind and rain continued to pound the building, and he grabbed her umbrella and opened it in front of them to protect them from the elements. The lengthening silence between them made him feel nervous, so he spoke. “Tell me a little about yourself.”

She nodded. “Let’s see. I’m an only child, and I’m from Los Angeles. My parents still live there. My father owns a welding business and my mother writes historical novels.” She paused. “What about you?”

He wanted to hear more about her life, but thought it only fair to divulge a little about his own. “I was born and raised on the island. I’m sure you know my younger sister, Hadley. She’s married to Devon. We have an older brother, Savion. MHI is the family business, and we kids took over about six years ago when our parents retired.”

“I see.” She looked straight ahead, as if focused on the falling rain.

He observed her, enjoying her regal beauty in profile. She was dressed just as casually as the previous day, this time in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Her hair was up on top of her head in a messy bun, with a few tendrils hanging around her face. She appeared thoughtful, and he kept quiet to avoid interfering with whatever gears were turning in her mind.

The stormy weather filled the air with the sounds of rain and howling wind, and he kept quiet and listened to the cacophony.

Jacob’s car pulled up then, parking a few spots away from Sierra’s. As Jacob jogged through the rain with the key, Campbell met him halfway up the stairs.

“Thanks!” He switched keys with Jacob, raising his voice to be heard over the wind. “Now try to get home before the storm gets any worse!”

“Yes, sir!” Jacob ran back to his car, and soon pulled off.

His shirt damp with rain, Campbell returned to the door and slipped the key into the lock. Turning it, he swung open the door. “Welcome to your unit, Ms. Dandridge.”

She started to get up, and he offered his hand to assist her. On her feet, she smiled as she passed him, entering the condo.

He gathered the blanket and the umbrella and followed her inside, closing the door. The sound of the rainstorm was now buffered, but he could still hear the rain and wind. “Let me give you a quick tour, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Okay.” She trailed him around the unit and let him show her all the features and amenities it had.

“You’ve got plenty of space to stretch out here.” He showed her the living room, kitchen/dining combo, the hall bathroom and the guest bedroom. In the master suite, he showed her the king-size bed and the attached bathroom, complete with soaking tub and separate shower. She lay across the bed for a moment, as if to test it, and he turned away to keep his thoughts from going in that direction.

As if sensing his discomfort, she sat up and got on her feet again. “Everything looks wonderful. Anything else you want to show me?”

He gestured for her to follow him back up the narrow hallway. “There’s a terrace off the dining room. You can access it by those glass doors. Nice views of the inlet from out there.” He pointed at them as they returned to the main living area. “But you’ll probably want to wait for better weather to check that out.”

She chuckled. “Definitely.”

It was the first time he’d heard her laugh. The sound, brief as it had been, seemed to brighten his world. He walked over to the stainless steel double-door refrigerator in the kitchen, and opened both doors. “As you can see, our shoppers have stocked your fridge with everything you requested from the list.”

She came over and inspected the contents, grabbing a Gala apple from a shelf. “This is great.” She closed the doors, then went to the sink to rinse the apple.

“That’s about it. Sorry again about the whole key mix-up.”

She’d searched out a knife and cutting board, and was busy cutting up her apple. “It’s okay.”

“I’m gonna head out and leave you to relax, then.” He bundled up his blanket, tucked it under his arm and walked toward the door. As he swung it open, greeted by the fierce winds, he thought he heard her call his name.

“Campbell. Wait.”

He turned around to face her in the doorway. “Did you call me? Do you need something else?”

She stood by the kitchen counter, with the slices of apple on a napkin. “I don’t need anything else, no.”

He shrugged. “See ya.”

“Wait.”

He turned back again. “I thought you said you didn’t need anything else?”

She looked conflicted. “I don’t. But...I don’t think you should be going out there in this weather. We’ve been here for a little while, and it’s been getting worse this whole time.”

He watched her face, and saw the lines of concern there. While he didn’t know what had given rise to her concern for him, he couldn’t help but be flattered by it. “Let me take a look out there.”

He took a few steps out onto the landing, to ascertain conditions below them. The wind and rain were still steadily pounding the building, and the trees below appeared to be dancing as they waved their branches in time. His eyes swept over the parking lot, and he saw the deepening puddles forming on the black concrete. Instinct told him to walk to the other end of the landing, so he pulled the door shut gently and strolled to the right, past the door to the A unit. From that end of the landing, he craned his neck a bit to get a view of the inlet.

Sure enough, the banks of the inlet had disappeared beneath the rising water. This part of the island was particularly low lying, but bordered Cooper Inlet instead of the Atlantic Ocean. When flooding happened here, it was often due to too much rain overflowing the inlet as opposed to seawater breaching the island’s curved seawall.

She’s right. I can’t go out in this. Based on what he could see, and the pattern he recognized from living most of his life in Sapphire Shores, this side of the island would be under a good foot or so of water, and soon.

He returned to her unit then, and found her standing in the open door, as if she’d come out to look for him. “Where did you go?”

He pointed. “Around to the end of the landing. The inlet’s flooding, so you’re right. I probably shouldn’t be driving.”

A soft smile met his words. “Good. Then come back inside out of this madness.”

Once they were both inside again, he sat on one end of the tan sofa. “I appreciate this, Ms. Dandridge.”

“Call me Sierra.”

“If you insist.” The movie fan inside him did back flips. I’m on a first-name basis with Sierra Dandridge!

She brought her sliced apple over to the coffee table and set it down. “Do you want something to eat or drink?”

“I’ll take a bottle of water, please.”

She returned with two chilled bottles and passed him one. Cracking hers open, she took a seat on the opposite end of the sofa. “You’ve been through these storms before, right?”

“Sure. We’ve been through at least twenty that had some level of impact. Fran, Floyd, Isabel. Why do you ask?”

“How long do they usually last?”

He shrugged. “Storms, a day or two. It’s the aftermath that can drag on and on.”

She looked thoughtful. “No telling how long you’ll have to stay, then.”

He winked. “Nope.”


Chapter 4 (#uc2cc61a1-a734-5991-92e7-04619660c197)

Sierra stood by the glass doors in the dining room, assessing the scene outside. Just as Campbell had mentioned earlier, the waters of Cooper Inlet were escaping. The inlet, about two miles away, had already begun to swell onto the road running next to it. The storm still raged on, with the wind and rain swirling beneath the darkened sky.

With a sigh, she walked away from the door and back into the living room area. The gilded analog clock on the wall showed her that the dinner hour approached, but the rumbling in her stomach told her it had arrived.

She looked to Campbell, who was still sitting on the end of the sofa. He had his phone out, and had been staring at it for a while. The screen glow illuminated his face in the dimness of the room.

Moving toward the kitchen, she called out to him. “Campbell, are you hungry?”

He glanced up. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“I asked if you’re hungry.”

He nodded. “Do you need help cooking?”

She flipped the wall switch by the fridge, flooding the kitchen with soft, white light. “Not right now. What’s got your attention over there?”

“I’m reading a book. I’ve got one of those e-reader apps on my phone.”

Her brow crinkled. “What are you reading?” Opening the refrigerator, she scanned the shelves for the bundle of fresh herbs she’d seen there earlier.

“The collected poems of Langston Hughes.”

She stopped midreach, angling her head so she could look at him. “Really?”

He looked up then, meeting her eyes. “Yes, really. Why do you look so shocked?”

“It’s just...I’ve never met a man who read poetry. At least not one who would openly admit it.”

He shrugged. “To be honest, it’s not just ‘reading poetry.’ Langston’s the man. Even all these years after his death, his words still resonate.”

Recovered a bit from her initial shock, she grabbed the plastic clamshell case holding the herbs and set them on the counter. “It’s refreshing to meet someone who shares my opinion. I adore Langston’s work.”

He watched her, as if seeing her with new eyes. “No kidding. What’s your favorite of his poems?”

She thought about it as she removed unsalted butter, a loin of pork and a pound of fresh brussels sprouts from the fridge. “I’d have to say ‘Mother to Son,’ with ‘Harlem’ being a close second.”

He tilted his head to one side, appearing thoughtful. “I see. Those are definitely seminal works of his.”

She washed her hands with the lemon-scented dish soap and dried them on a checked towel. Grabbing three russet potatoes from the wire basket on the kitchen counter, she set to work peeling them. With a glance over all the food she’d set out, she thought she should revise her earlier statement. “Listen, why don’t you come in here. I think this will go faster if I have an extra set of hands, and we can keep talking while we cook.”

“No problem.” He placed the phone facedown on the coffee table and came to the kitchen. She inched to the left, so he could access the sink, and while he washed his hands, she kept working the vegetable peeler, turning the potato in her hand.

As the peel fell in a perfect spiral, she set it down and reached for the second one.

He dried his hands and asked, “What do you want me to do?”

She gestured toward the rest of the food sitting on the counter. “Grab a deep roaster, and halve those sprouts, please.”

“You got it.” He searched the lower cabinets for the roaster.

As he bent, her greedy eyes devoured the sight of his muscled thighs and the perfect shape of his rear end. The man was built like a warrior, and looking at him now, she couldn’t help wondering about his “spear.”

He stood then, having located a large, white ceramic roaster. After he set that on the counter and got a knife and cutting board, he began working on the sprouts, splitting them with precision and expertise.

As she cubed her peeled potatoes on a separate board, the room grew quiet, save for the sounds of the storm and of their knives striking the boards. To break the silence, she glanced at him. “You never told me your favorite Langston Hughes poem.”

He chuckled. “You never asked.”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “I’m asking now. So, tell me.”

After sliding a handful of halved sprouts off the cutting board and into a colander, he set the knife down. “I love the two you mentioned. But my absolute favorite is ‘April Rain Song.’”

She searched her mind for a moment, before the words to that poem came back to her. “Oh, yes. The one with the rain kissing you...”

He turned around to face her.

Their gazes met, locked.

Something lay behind the dark pools of his eyes, something she couldn’t name. Whatever it was, it made her knees tremble. To steady herself, she pressed the small of her back against the edge of the counter.

He began reciting the poem, drawing each word out, the way the men around here tended to do. She’d heard the words before, but never in this deep, molasses-thick drawl. With each word, she felt tingles race over the surface of her skin.

When he’d finished, she drew in a deep breath to fill her empty lungs. “Wow.”

“So you enjoyed my recitation?”

She nodded. “You certainly put a lot of...um...feeling into it.”

A slight smile turned up the corners of his full lips. “That’s the only way to do it when you’re reciting the work of a true master.”

She swallowed, nodded again. What she didn’t say was that he’d shown her a whole new side to the piece. She’d never considered that poem sensual in any way, until just now. Hearing him recite it gave the poem an erotic edge she never would have ascribed to it before. Whether Mr. Hughes had written such undertones into it, she didn’t know. But she did know she’d never hear that poem the same way again.

Her stomach growled a loud, hungry protest. She pressed her palms over it, as if that would muffle the sound.

Campbell reacted with a short, rumbling laugh. “We’d better get back to cooking. Your stomach is about to stage a coup.” He moved closer to her, then past her to rinse the sprouts in the sink.

Feeling her cheeks warm, she blew out a breath. “Sorry about that.”

He waved her off while he ran a stream of water over the sprouts. “No big deal. Hunger is a natural thing, nothing to be ashamed of.”

I’m hungry, alright. He had no idea she was fighting down more than one appetite. It seemed like ages since she’d been in the company of a man so handsome, thoughtful and intelligent. Her sometimes crazy filming schedule didn’t leave much free time for dating and relationships. This was the first time in almost six months she’d been alone with any man.

And if he stayed much longer, looking as delicious as he did, she had no idea where things would go between them.

After she recovered her senses, she set to work assembling the food for cooking. Then she placed the roaster, with the seasoned pork loin resting atop a bed of potatoes and sprouts, into the oven. “Now we just have to wait for it to get done.”

She rinsed her hands in the sink, ridding them of the olive oil she’d massaged into the meat, then toweled them dry. As she shut off the water, her traitorous stomach growled...again.

“Are you gonna be alright until it’s ready?” With his tone light and teasing, he looked her way.

She smiled. “I think I’ll be fine.”

Waiting for the food would be the easy part.

Keeping her hands off him would be a whole different matter.

* * *

As night fell over Cooper Inlet, Campbell found himself back on the sofa with Sierra. They’d returned there after finishing the delicious meal they’d made. The main difference between now and earlier was that she seemed a little more relaxed, and had chosen to sit on the middle cushion rather than on the opposite end of the sofa.

Outside, the wind had calmed somewhat, but the rain showed no signs of stopping. By his estimate, he wasn’t likely to be going anywhere before tomorrow morning, at the earliest.

She’d turned on the television and surfed to an episode of Mysteries at the Museum. He half watched the show while continuing to page through the poetry book on his phone. She sat close enough now for him to pick up the feminine scent emanating from her. He couldn’t tell if it was perfume or shampoo, or a combination of the many grooming products women tended to use. Whatever the case, she smelled of bright citrus and spicy cinnamon, and the combination intoxicated him.

During the commercial break, she looked his way. “This show is a trip. They always find the weirdest artifacts with the craziest backstories.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’ve seen a couple of episodes, and it is pretty wild.”

She stood then. “Do you want any more food? If not, I’m about to put it away.”

He patted his stomach and shook his head. “I’m full. It tasted great, by the way.”

She winked. “You get some of the credit, since you were my sous-chef.” Turning, she walked to the kitchen.

He watched her every step, hypnotized by the sway of her ample hips. The way she walked seemed like an art form, a manifestation of her confidence and femininity. She wasn’t twisting or strutting; this was her natural gait. It was the physical manifestation of who she was, or at least it seemed that way based on his limited knowledge of her. Whatever it was, that certain something about her was what made her so attractive, and made her so talented as an actress. He’d seen this mysterious quality of hers play out on-screen many times before, and in no film had it been played up so much as in Waltz at Midnight.

She moved around the kitchen, putting the leftover food in glass containers and tucking it into the fridge. When she returned, she sat down and tucked her bare feet beneath her hips.

His brow lifted. Am I imagining it, or is she sitting closer to me now? Wordlessly, he placed his hand palm down on the sofa. Sure enough, there wasn’t enough room now for him to spread his fingers.

Lifting his hand again, he rested it on his thigh, fighting back a smile. It was possible she didn’t realize how close she’d sat. It was also possible she’d purposely moved into his personal bubble. Either way, he wasn’t going to be the one to mention it. They were in her place, and whatever happened tonight would be on her terms.

By now, the show had returned from the break, and she fell right in, watching it with interest. He, on the other hand, set aside his phone and contented himself with watching her. As entertaining as the show was, he found Sierra even more interesting.

She seemed to notice his regard, because she turned her large, sparkling dark eyes his way and asked, “What is it?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

She shrugged. “I’m not uncomfortable, really. I just couldn’t help noticing you staring at me.”

“I was just thinking about something. Remember how I told you Waltz at Midnight is one of my favorite movies of all time?”

A soft smile tilted her lips. “Yes, I remember, and I appreciate you saying that.”

“I meant it.” He scratched his chin. “Can I ask you a question about that movie?”

“Sure.”

“Do you feel you have anything in common with your character?”

“You mean Reva Lane, the jewel thief better known as the Midnight Shadow?” She chuckled, then made a dramatic gesture with both hands. “Well, I’ve never knocked over a jewelry store, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He laughed. “No, that’s not what I mean. I mean her attitude, her outlook on things. Do you share anything like that with her?”

Her gaze shifted, as if she were looking outside at the falling rain. “I’d like to think I’m as fearless and intelligent as she is.” She eyed him. “What made you ask that question?”

“I see a little of her in you. At least I think I do, based on our limited interactions.”

She shifted a little closer to him, changing position until she sat cross-legged, right next to him. Their thighs were now touching again, just as they had when they were sitting on the landing earlier. “Care to elaborate on that?”

“I see you as guarded, closed off.”

She pursed her lips.

Sensing her annoyance, he held up his hand. “Wait, hear me out. I also see you as confident and self-assured. That’s probably what stood out to me the most about the character, and I saw it again in Della’s the other day.”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw you with your costar. I can tell she’s not your favorite person, but you kept it very professional. At least from what I saw.” He stretched his arms over his head, to shake off some of the stiffness from sitting so long in one position. “I did leave before the scene finished filming, but I’m gonna assume you didn’t go upside her head.”

She laughed then, releasing a full, diaphragm-deep sound that brightened his whole world. When she finally recovered, she shook her head, the mirth still visible in her eyes. “You’re a mess!”

“But I’m right, though.”

She giggled. “Yeah. I’m not too fond of Mia, but I’m not about to jeopardize my career for her or anyone else.”

He smiled. “See, that’s what I mean. You’ve got your head on straight, your priorities are in order and your path laid out. You’re out here going for what you want without waiting for permission. I respect that.”

The humor dancing in her eyes morphed into something else. She held his gaze. “Do you really think that? Or is this just flattery?”

“It’s the truth. Yeah, I’ll admit I feel like a teenage boy who got pulled onstage with his favorite singer right now.” Damn. Didn’t mean to say that aloud. He ran a hand over his face. “But I meant every word I said.”

The soft smile on her face grew even bigger. “Wow.”

He smiled back, still trying to read that look in her eyes. What is she thinking right now?

A moment later, she leaned toward him. Her small hand came up to cup his jaw. “You’re quite the charmer, Campbell Monroe.”

“Not really.” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers. His face tingled beneath the warmth of her touch. “I’m just honest.”

She tilted her head, letting her eyes drift closed as her lips formed that unmistakable pucker shape.

He didn’t know how they’d gotten here, but he wasn’t about to turn down an invitation like that. He placed a hand on her shoulder, then gently touched his lips to hers. Her lips were plump, soft and made for kissing. They tasted of some fruit-flavored lip gloss, and as he gave her a series of little pecks on the lips, he got a taste of it every few seconds.





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