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Destiny's Last Bachelor?
Christyne Butler
HOLLYWOOD ROYALTYMEETS THE JERSEY SHORE!Hollywood princess Priscilla Lennox is running away – from paparazzi and the humiliation of walking in on her boyfriend with her sister. So she runs to Destiny, where gorgeous Dean Zippenella knocks her off her Louboutins…and into the river. Still, her spirits aren’t dampened, she’s here to repair her image…Dean, with his Jersey Shore machismo, is there at every turn. At first it’s annoying, then it’s endearing. When he grants Priscilla her birthday wish of a kiss, it’s beginning to look a lot like love for real this time – until her sister turns up in town again!


“Well, well … this is a nice surprise.”
Priscilla couldn’t believe it! “What are you doing here?”
“Ah, you’ll have to forgive me for not recognizing you …” Dean’s voice trailed off as he took a step closer, his impossibly wide shoulders pushing open the door fully, his gaze immediately darting around the floor of the room. “You look a little different without your sunglasses.”
His perusal stopped the moment it landed on her bare toes, and his smile deepened as he slowly took his time letting his gaze travel up her legs. By the time he reached the edge of the towel that rode high on her thighs, a warm flush had enveloped Priscilla.
She should be annoyed at his deliberate scrutiny, but for some reason she was—pleased?
No, that couldn’t be right. Just because her ex had rarely taken his nose out of his financial journals, even during a conversation, didn’t mean she thought—that she felt—
“Or without your wet clothes,” he added.
* * *
Welcome to Destiny:
Where fate leads to falling in love
Destiny’s Last Bachelor?
Christyne Butler


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CHRISTYNE BUTLER fell in love with romance novels while serving in the United States Navy and started writing her own stories six years ago. She considers selling to Mills & Boon
Cherish™ a dream come true and enjoys writing contemporary romances full of life, love, a hint of laughter and perhaps a dash of danger, too. And there has to be a happily-ever-after or she’s just not satisfied.
She lives with her family in central Massachusetts and loves to hear from her readers at chris@christynebutler.com (http://chris@christynebutler.com). Or visit her website, www.christynebutler.com (http://www.christynebutler.com).


To the Bartlett Bunnies Thank you for sharing your wonderful friendships and asking a lot of “what if …” and “or maybe …” questions as we plotted our books!
Contents
Chapter One (#u41807887-dc33-5b75-b379-97b0e3826a1f)
Chapter Two (#u8075250b-a6ef-56d1-9ab6-96a664b4a211)
Chapter Three (#u61355a3a-1717-56c1-9e9d-d4ca47a1ac3a)
Chapter Four (#uf2a1aea0-2f9e-5565-af7b-754ee9477403)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
“You know that old saying ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer’? Well, I think there should be another line.” Priscilla Lennox had to raise her voice to be heard as she spoke into the tiny headset that permitted her to keep her hands on the wheel and off her cell phone. Added bonus? Not having to put the top up on her Mercedes convertible. “Keep at least a thousand miles between you and your family.”
“Well, don’t hold back, honey. Tell me how you really feel.” Lisa’s sweet voice still held that down-home Savannah-born-and-bred charm despite her years in Southern California. “Not that you need to explain this latest escapade of Jacqueline’s, bless her heart.”
No, Priscilla didn’t need to bother with the details. Her best friend had heard often enough about the mishaps and misadventures of Priscilla’s younger sister over the years. Not to mention how Priscilla had always wound up either being blamed for her sister’s messes or cleaning them up before the press got wind of them.
Or heaven forbid, their father.
“I’m guessing you haven’t seen the headline in the Entertainment World that came out today,” her friend added.
Priscilla waited for a moment before answering. She’d purposely avoided the press coverage as she made her way through Northern California, into Nevada and now zoomed down the highway just east of Salt Lake City. Was that enough time—and distance—to prepare for the craziness headed her way?
“No, go ahead and read it to me.” She hoped her words sounded causal as she released her tight grip on the steering wheel and flexed her fingers. Her hand was noticeably lighter now that the diamond she’d worn for the past six months was tucked away with the rest of her jewelry. Her right hand. “I’m braced and ready.”
“‘Commodities Millionaire Trades Good Deeds Sister for Good Times Sister.’”
Okay, the kick to Priscilla’s heart smarted for a moment, but then it faded to a dull ache. Shouldn’t she be more devastated by the clever turn of words? Maybe she was still in shock? After all, it wasn’t every day that a girl walked in on her boyfriend and her sister in a clinch so sizzling they could’ve been modeling for the cover of a romance novel—the kind sporting a half-naked man and a lady whose dress was undone all the way down to her perfect backside. Yeah, that was one mess Priscilla most definitely hadn’t stuck around to clean up.
“There’s a montage of photos, too. You with Jonathan on his yacht last summer, Jonathan and Jacqueline arm and arm on the red carpet at the gala a few nights ago, you backstage that same night—looking marvelous in a Lisa Ashland Original, I’ll shamelessly add—wielding that famous clipboard of yours.”
Great. Her father would be so pleased to see both of his girls in full color in one of the most popular gossip rags in the country, and probably spilling over to its website and nightly television show, as well. And he’d blame her, of course.
Sweet Jacqueline could never be at fault. No, not his baby. Not the sweet blessing that had arrived long after he and her mother had considered their family complete with just one daughter.
Priscilla sighed. It still amazed her that she was a week away from turning thirty and her life was still divided into two sections. The eight years before her sister was born and the twenty-two years since.
“So why are you heading for Wyoming?” Lisa’s voice broke into her thoughts. “There’s nothing there but...a lot of Wyoming.”
Thankful for the switch in subject, Priscilla latched on to her friend’s question. “Remember when I mentioned last week how I’ve been chatting with Bobby Winslow—”
“The retired race-car driver? What does he have to do with this sudden road trip of yours?”
“Well, Bobby started this children’s summer camp in his hometown of Destiny, Wyoming.”
“And he’s asked you for help?”
“Well, no.” A small detail Priscilla had never let get in her way before. “But we have spoken about fund-raising and promotion for the place.”
Okay, so maybe Bobby had been joking when he said he should hire her. And maybe she’d been doing the same when she said she would send him an email with a financial prospectus. Even so, she’d started the research necessary for such a project just a few days ago.
Before her life had been turned upside down. Before she had nothing but time on her hands.
“I know this is going to sound rather snobbish, but isn’t that a little outside of your area of expertise?” Lisa asked.
That was exactly why Priscilla had pointed her convertible to this part of the country after she’d escaped L.A. two days ago. “I’ll admit a summer camp is less high-profile than organizations I’ve worked with in the past, but I’ve been looking for something new. Something different. I’d already planned to take the rest of the summer off to rethink my career options. The foundation means the world to me, but after ten years...” Priscilla’s voice faded for a moment as she swallowed the lump in her throat. “Maybe I’ve given back enough.”
“Okay, I get why you’ve abandoned your plans for a getaway to the French Riviera with the jerk whose name we won’t ever mention again, but traveling solo through the Wild West instead?”
Solo? Priscilla looked over at the passenger seat, where her passenger snoozed away in a monogrammed sleeping bag on top of a tufted, lamb’s wool pillow. “Who said I was alone?”
“Oh, please don’t tell me you have Jacqueline’s ugly mutt—”
“Sebastian Niles A King’s Elegance is not ugly and he’s not a mutt. He’s a purebred smooth-coat Chihuahua my sister thought would make a cute fashion accessory before she realized a live animal requires actual care and feeding. And...love. Besides, I think the poor thing was as traumatized as I was by what we witnessed in that dressing room.”
“Su-gar,” Lisa drawled again, “are you sure about this?”
“About needing to get away from the craziness going on back home? Absolutely.” An odd thrill raced through her at the thought of having so much free time ahead of her. Yesterday the country had celebrated its independence. Now it was time for her to do the same. “I’ll visit Bobby and his wife for a few days, share some ideas I’ve worked up, and then who knows where I’ll head next. Maybe Chicago or New York. Or a deserted tropical island with no media access.”
“Well, wherever you end up, please remember to check in. I’ll be up to my false eyelashes finalizing samples for next spring’s collection, but that doesn’t mean I’m not here to listen to your wild adventures.”
Priscilla snorted. “I think you’ve got the wrong sister.”
“Oh, no, I think you’re destined for something wild. And wicked. You need to let down your hair and have some fun. And I mean that literally.”
Priscilla automatically brought her hand up to the tightly wound roll at the back of her head. “I don’t have the top up. The wind will make it a mess.”
“That’s the point of having a convertible. Don’t tell me you can’t remove a simple hair clip.”
Of course she could. Priscilla had been wearing her hair in a Fresh twist style for so long she could put it up, and take it down, in her sleep. It’d been a style her mother favored, which meant Priscilla had always rebelled against it.
Until she wore it for the funeral. And every day since, it seemed. No, that couldn’t be right. Her mother had been gone for fourteen years. Okay, so maybe she’d wore her hair this way ever since she started working at the foundation her junior year in college.
After a flip of her wrist, the warm summer wind took hold of her long locks, lifting and brushing them back from her face and neck. A quick glance in her review mirror revealed how different she looked.
“Feels pretty good, doesn’t it?”
Priscilla had to admit her friend was right. “How did you know I did it?”
“I heard you sigh.”
“It’s just hair, Lisa.”
“It’s a start. Next up? Something wild and wicked. Just you wait and see.”
The conviction in her friend’s words brought forth a genuine laugh this time before she thanked Lisa for being so wonderful and ended the call.
* * *
By five o’clock that afternoon, Priscilla was exhausted. She had a cramp in her foot and her backside felt as if it was stuck to the leather seat beneath her. Plus, her sidekick was wide-awake and doing enough butt wiggling that it could only mean one thing.
Her car’s navigation system told her the center of Destiny was still twenty miles away. Thanks to an internet search on her phone, she’d booked a room at a local inn, but her four-legged friend didn’t look as if he could wait until they arrived to take care of business. After passing an impressive compound of log homes, she spotted a side road that led to a wide area near the river they’d just crossed. She drove there and pulled to a stop in the shade from a cluster of trees, shut down the engine and got out of the car.
“Don’t get lost,” she called out, peeling off her suit jacket as the pup headed straight for the woods. “This isn’t like the manicured lawns of Beverly Hills.”
Making her way to the water’s edge was a bit tricky in her three-inch heels, but as soon as she found an oversize rock to sit on, Priscilla slipped out of her shoes and dipped her aching toes in the crystal blue waters. “I need to wear flats the next time I plan an escape.”
Unable to resist, she stood and waded in farther, pleased to find the creek’s bottom wasn’t as rocky or muddy as she’d thought it would be. She looked around, noticing a rope hanging from a tree that arched over the water. The clearing was obviously well used. It was easy to picture a group of kids or a family enjoying a picnic here, but at the moment it was only her. With the cold water swishing past her calves and a light breeze caressing her bare arms, Priscilla reveled in the solitude of the natural surroundings, feeling as if she’d drawn her first deep breath in months.
No ringing phones, no disapproving fathers or whiny excuses from her sister, no annoying clicking and flashing from the paparazzi’s cameras...
Just peace and quiet.
* * *
“Honey, I’m a man who needs female companionship.”
Dean Zippenella hoped he sounded sincere, but a part of him knew he’d already lost this argument. Usually he had no problem when it came to charming the ladies, but this one—his favorite one—was stubbornly quiet in the passenger seat of his truck.
“Look, you’ve made your feelings perfectly clear, over and over again, and while I love our alone time, I’d like to bring a friend to the house once in a while without worrying you’re going to do something crazy.”
He tried to catch her gaze, but a quick turn of the head revealed that she was staring out the half-open window.
“You know, it’s more than just your unpleasant attitude. It’s your very unladylike behavior that gets you in the most trouble.”
That got him a tilt of her nose that looked almost regal.
“Do I need to list them for you?” Dean kept one hand on the steering wheel and used the other to tick off the all-too-familiar offenses. “Peeing on their clothes, hiding their shoes, chewing on whatever you can scrounge out of their purses, including feminine products that no man should ever see.”
Daisy turned to face him, offered a quick bark, and darn if the corners of her mouth didn’t turn up into a cocky grin. Then he remembered the latest mischief. “And yes, that includes the cash you always manage to get out of their wallets.”
His last guest had shrieked when she spotted the contents of her purse scattered at the dog’s feet and the mangled remains of a twenty-dollar bill hanging from Daisy’s mouth. Dean could’ve sworn the mischievous furball had been grinning then, as well.
That had been, what, almost two months ago? He’d tried to pay back the twenty dollars but the woman took offense. As if he’d been offering to pay for the time they’d enjoyed together or something. He’d been a lonely man after that. Something that hadn’t happened much since he’d moved to Destiny, Wyoming, a few years ago.
The ladies liked him—or they used to—and he’d never been at a loss for company. As long as he spent time at their places. Once they got an invite back to his home and met Daisy, they quickly discovered Daisy had no qualms about showing just how she felt about human females.
She didn’t like them. Any of them. Not even the women who meant the most to him. His grandmother, mother and three sisters, who’d all tried to win Daisy’s affections when Dean had shown up at the family home in New Jersey, his duffel bag in one hand and a puppy in the other, after a stint in the army.
While the scraggly mutt he’d saved from a harrowing life in the Middle East had been devoted to him over the years and was friendly with any males she came across, she never changed her mind about the ladies.
Deciding to end this one-sided discussion, Dean checked his watch, noting he had at least an hour before his last physical-therapy patient of the week. He’d finished his shift at the veterans’ center in Cheyenne earlier than planned and returned home to pick up Daisy. She always accompanied him whenever he worked with his favorite patient and then they’d grab some takeout for dinner.
After that, the evening, and the rest of the weekend, stretched out in front of him.
Rounding the bend in the road, Dean spotted a red convertible parked down by the river. He frowned. Not the typical style of car found around Destiny, where pickup trucks like his were the favorite mode of transportation.
He wondered if someone might be in trouble. Turning down the dirt road, he pulled to a stop on the far side of the clearing. The sight of a beautiful blonde bombshell cooling off in the Blue Creek River caught him by surprise.
Bellissima! Where in the world did you come from?
He tossed his sunglasses up on the truck’s dashboard while pressing a button, raising both the windows. “Sorry, sweetheart. I know you love to play in the water, but someone else got here ahead of you,” he said to Daisy.
He exited his truck, but left the engine and the air-conditioning running, and headed for the riverbank. His steps slowed as he enjoyed the view of the stranger’s sexy legs when she lifted her skirt high on her thighs as she waded into deeper water. From the fancy suitcases piled in the backseat of her car to the clothes she wore, it was easy to see this beauty definitely wasn’t from around here. In fact, she seemed more big-city chic than country simplicity—
Suddenly a blur of golden-brown raced past him.
“What the hell?” Dean had no idea how Daisy had managed to roll down the window enough to squeeze out, but she was making a beeline for the water’s edge.
And for the unsuspecting lady.
“Daisy!” Oh, man, this had trouble written all over it. “Daisy, get back here!”
His dog wasn’t listening. Nope, she headed straight for the water nymph.
The woman had spun around when he yelled. Blond waves flowed over her shoulders and dark sunglasses shaded her eyes. Her luscious mouth dropped open in surprise at the sight of him and his dog.
She stumbled back a few steps the moment Daisy charged in, splashing her way right to the woman before suddenly halting in front of her.
And damn if Daisy’s tail didn’t start wagging just above the waterline.
The woman started to smile and then leaned down, one hand outstretched toward his pet. A typical reaction, but Daisy wasn’t a typical dog.
Dean called out, “Stop! Don’t touch her.”
The nymph froze in place for a moment before slowly straightening, her free hand retreating to her chest. She was probably unaware she still held the ends of her skirt hiked up way past her knees with the other.
She stared at him—at least Dean thought she did behind those dark sunglasses—before she looked down at Daisy. Then she directed her gaze back to him, her chin lifting a bit. “I was only going to say hello.”
Her voice was as smooth and silky as the finest Chardonnay. Dean stopped when his boots hit the water’s edge, sinking a bit into the soft earth. “That’s probably not a good idea. She can be...unpredictable. Daisy, come here, girl.”
Daisy ignored him, keeping her gaze on the blonde, who glanced at the dog again before looking at Dean. “Does she bite?”
She never had, but he hated to think there might be a first time.
“No. I don’t think so.” He’d found Daisy in the desert during his last tour in the Middle East. The thirty-pound, two-foot-tall mutt resembled a Portuguese Podengo. Granted, she wasn’t growling and her wirehaired fur wasn’t bristling, but who knew what went on in a female’s mind—canine or human.
The woman took another step backward. “Well, she’s the one who came to me. Up until a moment ago I was enjoying a few minutes of blessed solitude.”
Hmm, a hint of snobbishness. “Yeah, well, she can be somewhat unfriendly at times.”
“The wagging tail notwithstanding, of course.”
“That’s not the end I’m worried about. Daisy! Come!”
Instead of obeying, his dog moved a couple of steps closer to the blonde, who regarded him with a slight tilt of her head. “Does she always listen so well?”
“She usually listens.” Whenever it worked to her advantage. “Then again, she’s got a mind of her own. Typical woman.”
“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
“That my dog is an independent thinker. More independent than I realized.”
The woman’s features softened as she looked at his dog. “Well, I can certainly respect that in any female. Even if she’s invading my personal space.”
He’d like to invade—
Dean cut off that thought before it could go any further. “I spotted your sweet ride from the road and stopped to see if you were in trouble.” He jerked a thumb at the convertible behind him. “You’re obviously not from around here. Are you having any problems?”
“Other than being accosted by a strange man and his dog? No.”
“I was just trying to be nice.”
“Thank you, but we’re fine. I’d appreciate it if you’d go now.”
We? He did a quick survey of the area and saw there was no one else around. Still, she’d made her feelings clear enough, so he should probably head out. Then again, there was something about her. Why did he get the feeling he might know—
“Hey! Cut it out!” The cultured air surrounding the lady disappeared the moment Daisy licked her bare leg, causing her to laugh. “That tickles!”
The husky sound and the smile on her lips sent a wave of pure desire straight through Dean; suddenly, getting his dog to listen was the last thing he cared about. For starters, he’d be happy if the woman would remove her sunglasses so he could see what color her eyes were.
“Stop that now.” She scooted to one side, almost losing her footing in the sandy bottom of the river, but Daisy stayed right with her, a little pink tongue darting out again and again to lick at the water clinging to those gorgeous legs. “No more kisses, Miss Daisy. You need to behave.”
Dumbfounded, Dean braced his hands on his hips and stared at his dog. What in the hell was going on?
Daisy was acting like a besotted fool. “Boy, I can honestly say I’ve never seen her act this way before.”
The woman moved again, but the dog shadowed her every step. “Is that so?”
He crossed his arms over his chest, not sure if he liked this new side to his best friend. “Yeah, that’s so.”
“Well, if you don’t mind, could you try calling her again?”
“I’ll give it a shot.” Dean dropped his arms and crouched to the ground, balancing on the balls of his feet. “Come on, Daisy, come here.”
She didn’t even spare him a glance. Nope, his dog wasn’t the least bit interested in listening to him.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” The woman headed his way and his breath caught in his throat as he watched her walk, Daisy by her side. “As entertaining as this has been, it’s time for you, Miss Daisy, to go back to your owner.”
Daisy did start toward him, but then she turned back and let out a little yip as if she was disagreeing with her new friend, who laughed again. And this time, before Dean could get out another warning, she bent over and gently scratched behind the dog’s ears.
Dean didn’t know where to look first.
The enticing view of lace-covered curves thanks to the woman’s gapping neckline or Daisy, who immediately plopped her butt in the shallow water and raised her snout, the picture of pure contentment.
He was unable to resist sneaking a second glance at the woman’s sweet curves, before deciding to make a grab for his dog while she was distracted. Seconds later, he had Daisy in his arms, but when he straightened, the stranger did, too, and all it took was a bump of his shoulder against hers and down she went with a splash.
Ah, damn.
Trying to catch herself with her arms, she failed and fell backward, a soft cry falling from her lips. The water wasn’t very deep, but she landed firmly on her backside, ending up waist-deep in the swift current. The sunglasses stayed in place and she managed to keep her face out of the water, but the rest of her—including most of her silky blond hair—was all wet.
“Whoa, sorry about that.” Dean transferred Daisy into one hand and held her close to his chest, her wet fur drenching his shirt. With his other hand, he immediately reached for the woman. “Here, let me help.”
“No!” Sputtering, she waved him away while trying to sit up. “No, thank you, I’m fine.”
“Actually, what you are is soaking wet. Please, let me help you stand up.”
She refused his hand again and somehow got to her feet. Her clothes now clung to her body, and thanks to the transparency of the wet material, every perfect inch of her, including her lacy bra and panties, were visible.
“Oh, I’m a mess!”
Dean wanted to argue that fact, but he doubted she’d be happy with him.
“I can’t believe this!” she continued. “Look at me!”
He did his best to do just the opposite, but if something so beautiful was right in front of a man—
A low growl filled the air. Surprised, he looked down and found Daisy staring...at him. “Did you just growl at me, young lady?”
Clearly unhappy that he’d interrupted her fun, Daisy answered with another rumble that caused her entire body to vibrate.
“Is she okay?”
“Yeah, but I think she’s a bit upset I came between the two of you,” Dean said and then offered another smile. “And that I caused your tumble into the water. I really am sorry.”
“Apology accepted, but if you don’t mind...”
She left her sentence unfinished as she brushed past him. He turned to watch her retrieve a pair of high-heeled shoes and then head for her car.
Yep, the view was just as nice from this angle.
Dean followed, reaching her just as she leaned into the backseat of her convertible, grabbed a jacket and wiped at her face and arms. A quick glance into her side-view mirror had her clutching the jacket to her chest as she spun around.
“My clothes— The water—” she sputtered. “I look— You can see every—” She stomped her foot. “You just stood there!”
Daisy growled again as if confirming the lady’s accusations. Not that Dean needed reminding. He was sure he would be dreaming about his run-in with this modern Aphrodite later tonight in the lonely confines of his bed. “Ah, look, is there anything I can do—”
“You can leave.” Her upper-crust nature returned and her voice cooled as she shivered. “Now.”
“I don’t think I should leave you here alone—”
“I’m not alone. Snake!”
Snake? He glanced around, startled, but saw nothing on the ground nearby. When she called out again, he realized she wasn’t talking about an actual reptile, but summoning someone.
What the hell? A bodyguard?
She certainly looked like the type who could afford paid protection, but where had the guy been for the past twenty minutes or so? Before Dean could ask, a tiny ball of fur raced out from the bushes, its yappy bark filling the air. The dog—if one could call it that—went straight to the lady and got between her and Dean, the annoying barking growing louder.
Daisy tensed, and Dean tightened his grip on her, but other than gazing intently at the little creature, his dog remained surprisingly silent.
“What is that?” he finally asked. “And does it have an off switch?”
“Hush, Snake. It’s okay.”
But still the little thing yipped away. Where had this pint-size terror been the whole time he’d been talking to her?
“What’s he doing?” Dean asked. “Trying to act as tough as his name?”
“Actually, those are his initials. S. N. A. K. E. His full name is Sebastian Niles— Oh, Snake, hush!”
Dean couldn’t stop himself from grinning at this sorry excuse for man’s—or woman’s—best friend. “Well, I see you have as much control of your pet as I do over mine— Hey!”
The dog had finally shut up, but only so it could focus on lifting one of its miniature back legs and peeing right on Dean’s cowboy boot!
“Oh, my!” The feminine laughter started again before she suppressed it by pressing her fingertips to her lips. “Oh, I am sorry. Snake, come here.”
The little rat trotted over and plopped down at its owner’s feet.
“I do apologize,” she repeated, the corners of those full lips turned upward. “Snake has never done anything like that before.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet.” Dean gave his foot a quick shake. The bottom edge of his pant leg was now as damp as his shirt.
“Well, as you can see, I am very well guarded, so...”
“Okay, you win. We’ll leave.” He turned and headed for his truck. Tucking a finger beneath Daisy’s chin, he made her look at him. “You know, if you just would’ve stayed in the truck...”
Opening the passenger door, he started to place Daisy inside, but held on to her instead and raised the window. Then he closed the door, walked around to the driver’s side and climbed in. He made sure to hit the window lock before he released his dog into the passenger seat.
Sure enough, Daisy put her paw on the button.
“Oh, no, you’ve caused enough trouble for today.” Dean scolded as he put the vehicle into gear and drove away, pausing to take a quick glance at the lady in his rearview mirror. “And thanks to you, I never even got her name.”
Chapter Two
The Painted Lady Inn, a beautifully restored Victorian complete with turrets, gingerbread trim and a large wraparound porch, was located on the east side of Destiny, which turned out to be a much smaller town than Priscilla anticipated. Intent on following the GPS directions and still a bit flustered from her encounter with the handsome stranger, she hadn’t taken much time to look around as she made her way to her destination.
She’d seen brick-front businesses, many with colorful awnings and blooming flowers out front, surrounding a gazebo in the town’s center green. It all looked a bit dated, but charming. There seemed to be more people on the sidewalks than cars in the streets, and most turned to look as she drove past.
Pulling into the gravel lot next to the inn, Priscilla parked and locked her car, having raised the roof before leaving the river. She then walked inside with as much dignity as her appearance would allow, a small suitcase in one hand and Snake, this time with his leash attached, in the other.
She’d done her best to dry off before she got behind the wheel, tugging her jacket back on over her see-through dress and twisting her hair up again and clipping it in place, but she’d been unwilling to risk changing her clothes.
Who was to say another Good Samaritan wouldn’t come along? One who’d also be well over six feet tall with powerfully built arms and a crazy dog?
She had to admit the stranger’s size had been intimidating at first. She’d been wary of both him and his dog when he’d called out, but then the dog’s exuberant greeting and wagging tail had won her over.
At least until she’d spotted the gleam of interest in the man’s eyes.
That was the last thing she needed or wanted right now.
He’d done his best to be charming and she had to admit the dog was awfully cute, but then to find out just how sheer her pink silk tank top and skirt had become when wet—
“Hello, you must be Miss Lennox.” A petite older woman with snow-white hair that brushed her shoulders and stylish gray glasses perched on her nose spoke from behind the counter on the other side of the front hall. “And I’m guessing this is your pet?”
“Yes, that’s me.” Suddenly exhausted, Priscilla was thankful the woman pointedly ignored her damp hair and clothes. She set her bag at her feet and shook the woman’s hand. “And this is...well, he goes by his nickname, Snake.”
Up went the lady’s brows. “What an interesting moniker. I’m Minnie Gates, one of the owners of the Painted Lady. Welcome to our inn. We’re glad to have both of you with us.”
“Thank you.” Having grown up in the hotel business, Priscilla could spot a person putting on airs a mile away, but this woman’s charm and grace equaled that of her inn, making Priscilla feel instantly at home. “You have a beautiful place here.”
“Thank you, we’re quite proud of it.” Minnie smiled and took Priscilla’s credit card. Moments later she returned it along with an ornately fashioned key. “I’ve put you on the fourth floor. There are only two rooms up there and you’re in our largest suite. If you’d like to head straight up, I can arrange to have the rest of your luggage brought to you.”
Priscilla guessed she’d been watched as she parked, so the innkeeper would know she’d left her remaining cases in the backseat of her car. “That would be wonderful.” She handed over her car keys, then spotted the small sign on the counter that listed spa services available at the inn. Just what she needed. A glance at her watch told her it was almost six o’clock. “Oh, a massage would be terrific after— well, after being behind the wheel all day. Is it too late to set one up?”
“If you can wait about thirty minutes, I should be able to arrange something for you.”
“You’re an angel, Ms. Gates.”
“Please call me Minnie. All our spa services are done here on the main floor. Come down whenever you’re ready.”
Priscilla smiled her thanks, grabbed her bag and headed for the elevator. Once inside, she pulled Snake to her chest and graced him with a gentle kiss on his head. “Thank you for being a perfect gentleman with Minnie. I know the last couple of days have been rough and that scene down at the river didn’t help.”
Snake snuggled close and sighed. Priscilla remembered the first time the dog had done that. Her sister had brought the tiny creature home, presenting him with great fanfare, but then soon had gone off on another adventure, leaving Snake behind. A few days later the pup had followed Priscilla into her home office late one night. He’d weighed less than her briefcase when she picked him up and seconds later he’d made himself at home in her lap with the same contented sigh.
The elevator doors opened and Priscilla found her room at the end of the long hall. Stepping inside, she smiled as she took in the large space decorated in French country style. The bed linens, pillows and walls were done in soothing pastel colors such as aged ivory, lavender, pale yellow and green. The suite had a sitting area, complete with a fireplace on one side and a four-poster bed on the far wall. Her trained eye picked out the handmade, ornate Aubusson rug beneath her feet and the antique desk that sat directly in front of a set of windows that looked out over a beautiful garden and patio.
It didn’t take long to get Snake settled before her luggage arrived. Then she pulled out her cell phone to charge it, noting she had two more messages from her father. That made six since she’d left Beverly Hills.
Forcing herself to enter her passcode, she listened to the last one he’d left for her around lunchtime today.
“Priscilla, where are you? It’s been two days since the gala. An event you walked out on halfway through, I might add. I can’t reach your sister, either, but that’s no surprise. Call me. This situation needs to be handled. Now. This isn’t like you. You know how much I count on you being the responsible one—”
Cutting off the message before he could finish his lecture, Priscilla noted her father sounded more angry than worried by the fact he couldn’t seem to reach her.
She itched to return his call, to tell him someone else needed to handle things this time, but she’d already tried twice today and ended up leaving a message with his efficient secretary. She’d asked that he be told she was fine, still planned to be out of town for the foreseeable future and would call when she was settled.
Deciding that would do for now, she peeled off her damp clothes and slipped into a pair of dry panties, comfortable yoga sweats and a simple top. She hesitated for a moment, but then left her hair in the messy knot on her head and gave the large claw-foot bathtub in the adjoining bath a longing glance before realizing more than a half hour had passed and she was supposed to be downstairs.
First a massage, then she’d order some dinner from a local restaurant chosen from the list she’d found on the desk and crack open a gourmet doggy-food packet for Snake.
After all that, she should probably call Bobby and let him know—surprise!—she was in town.
She went downstairs and wandered around the first floor, walking through two beautiful parlors filled with comfortable antique furniture, fresh flowers and lots of books. But she didn’t see her host anywhere.
“Can I help you?”
Priscilla turned and found the nice young girl who had brought her suitcases to her room earlier. “I’m looking for Minnie. She’s arranged for me to have a massage and I fear I’m running late.”
“Minnie has gone to the carriage house out back—that’s where she and the Major live—but I can show you where to go if you like.”
“Yes, please.”
Priscilla followed the girl, who looked to still be in high school, back into the first parlor, when the old-fashioned ringing of a telephone filled the air. “Oh, I need to get that,” she said. “If you just go to the room on the other side of the foyer with the double glass doors, you’ll see everything is ready for you.”
Heading in the direction the girl pointed, Priscilla found a large ballroom on the other side of the foyer. It was empty, but she could easily picture it being used for parties and receptions. She walked deeper into the room, spotting the glass doors at the far end.
She stepped through them and found a converted porch with beautifully arched floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed light to pour in while honeycomb-shaped blinds assured privacy. A massage table draped in white linens had been set up in the center of the room with a nearby table holding scented candles, assorted lotions, a glass pitcher of ice water with sliced lemons and a stack of oversize towels.
Perfection.
No sign of the masseur or masseuse yet, but knowing she was already running late, Priscilla grabbed one of the towels and headed for the restroom in the far corner.
She quickly undressed and wrapped the towel around her. Leaving her clothes on a nearby chair, she headed for the table and perched herself on the edge, figuring she’d stretch out and wait. Before she could twist around to lie on her stomach, the glass doors opened.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” A deep male voice filled the air. “Boy, I’ve had the craziest afternoon—”
Priscilla froze when the sexy Good Samaritan from earlier today entered the room. “You!”
Confusion crossed his face for a moment as he studied her. Then he flashed her that same confident grin he’d sent her way earlier today. “Well, this is a nice surprise.”
She couldn’t believe it! Of all people, why would he be— “What are you doing here?”
“Ah, you’ll have to forgive me for not recognizing you right away....” His voice trailed off as he took a step into the room, his gaze darting around the floor. “You look a little different without your sunglasses.”
His perusal stopped the moment it landed on her bare toes and his smile deepened as he slowly let his gaze travel up her legs. By the time he reached the edge of the towel that rode high on her thighs, a warm flush had enveloped Priscilla.
She should be annoyed at his deliberate scrutiny, but for some reason she was—pleased? No, that couldn’t be right. Just because her ex had rarely taken his nose out of his financial journals, even during a dinner conversation, didn’t mean she thought that she felt—
“Or without your clothes,” he added.
Okay, pleased or not, he shouldn’t be in here. “Look, I don’t know who you are—”
“Dean Zippenella.” He moved to stand right in front of her and held out his hand. “We never got around to introductions down by the creek. At least, not the human kind.”
Placing her hand in his was an automatic gesture, thanks to her years of philanthropic work, but the zing of sensation dancing across her palm the moment they touched was new and totally unexpected.
She tried to draw her hand back. Too late.
His fingers closed around hers and held tight as he took another step toward her. This close, she could see the touch of gray in his closely cropped dark hair; the stubble on his jaw was the same dark color. A mix of sage, suede and musk invaded her nose, a spicy scent that must be his cologne. Despite sitting on the table, she had to tilt her head back to look at him, something that didn’t happen often, seeing as how she was just a few inches shy of six feet tall.
Without her heels.
Priscilla gave a gentle tug, a universal signal it was past time for him to release her, but his gaze flicked down over her shoulders and the exposed upper curves of her breasts, pausing for a heartbeat there before returning to her face.
“And you are?” he asked.
Her other hand involuntarily tightened where it kept hold of the towel’s overlapping edges. He didn’t look like the sort who would attack a woman, much less someone who read gossip magazines, but would he recognize her name? Would that make any difference?
“Priscilla Lennox,” she answered after a pause.
“It’s nice to meet you, Priscilla.” No flicker of recognition crossed his face at the sound of her name as he finally released her. “And please, let me apologize again for earlier today.”
He sounded sincere, but that still didn’t explain why he was here. “Apology already accepted. You didn’t have to chase me down—”
“I didn’t, even though I was glad to see your car in the inn’s parking lot. I’m here for an appointment.”
She noticed he’d changed his clothes. Gone were the khaki trousers and collared shirt he’d had on earlier. He now wore a simple black T-shirt that hugged his chest and shoulders, the word ARMY spelled out in big block letters across the front. Well-worn jeans, faded in some interesting places, and black boots— Wait, did he just say appointment? He looked more like a member of a motorcycle club than a masseur, but in a town this size...
She sighed, accepting that fate wasn’t quite done messing with her yet. “Well, I guess I’m that appointment.”
His left eyebrow shot up. “Excuse me?”
She had no idea why he looked so surprised. But they might as well just make the best of it. In a much-practiced move, Priscilla stretched out on the table and turned over on her stomach, all the while keeping the towel securely in place.
Resting her suddenly pounding forehead on her folded hands, she closed her eyes and said, “Just get started, please.”
* * *
Dean had to admit he wanted nothing more than to get his hands on this beautiful creature, but not like this. Obviously, Priscilla Lennox thought he was here to provide a massage, a service contracted by the inn, but she must’ve gotten her rooms mixed up.
This area was reserved for his weekly appointments with the retired marine who owned the inn. The old man hated hospitals so much he refused to come to the veterans’ clinic where Dean worked for his physical-therapy sessions. Considering the hell the still-spry veteran had gone through as a prisoner of war in Vietnam, Dean believed he’d more than earned the right to feel any damn way he pleased.
So every Friday afternoon Dean—being former military himself—ended his work week here at the inn, in a less clinical setup.
He’d noticed the familiar red convertible when he’d arrived at the inn and hoped for the chance to run into the pretty blonde again and make a second and better impression this time. But not this way. “Ah, look, I think I should explain about the massage—”
“No, you look. No more explanations. No more apologies.” She propped herself on her elbows, glaring at him over one shoulder, the move causing a single blond curl to fall across her blue eyes. Very beautiful blue eyes. “I’ve had a really long day, after what has been a terrible—a terribly exhausting week. Getting knocked on my butt into a riverbed earlier didn’t help.”
Dean kept his boots planted firmly tableside, forcing his gaze to remain on her face when he caught sight of the edges of her towel slowly giving way. He’d noticed the yellow rosebud tattoo just above the towel’s edge a moment ago, but now her jerky movements were leaving even more of her curves on display.
“All I want is for you to work out the kinks,” she continued, her tone clipped, “and if you could manage to do that in silence, that would be preferable.”
Well, if Miss High Society got that pretty little nose any higher in the air, she might just topple backward off the table.
Dean glanced at his watch. It wasn’t like the Major to be running late. He was sure the old man was going to show up before he even got his hands on her.
He bowed slightly. “Your wish is my command, Miss Lennox.”
Pursing her lips together, she eyed him in silence. He was sure she was going to say something else, but instead she went back to her prone position.
Dean rubbed his hands together, eyeing the perfection of her porcelain skin. His trained gaze picked up on the tension in her neck and her shoulders. The woman did look as if she could use a good rubdown. It would serve her right if he peeled that towel right to the edge of the swell of her nicely shaped backside so he’d have plenty of room to touch all her interesting spots.
Flexing his fingers, he reached out—
The clicking of the Major’s cane against the glass door announced his arrival only seconds before his booming voice filled the air. “Sorry to be late to the ball game, son. The kitchen sink went FUBAR on me and the damn wrench broke— Oh, excuse me, ma’am.”
This time Priscilla jumped, lifting herself up on her elbows as she snapped them to her sides.
Dean laid a hand against the plush terry material in the center of her back, holding her in place. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said, keeping his voice low.
Her head whipped around. She glared at him. “What—what is going on?”
“Have I interrupted something?” Elwin Gates asked. “I didn’t mean to walk in unannounced.”
“No worries, sir,” Dean answered. “Just a slight mix-up.”
Keeping his back to the old man, Dean reached for the terry robe draped over a nearby chair. The Major usually donned it after their session, but Dean had a feeling Miss Lennox needed it more at this very minute.
“Why don’t you rise slowly, facing the other way, and slip into this?” Dean continued to speak in quiet tones, holding up the robe for her. “And then maybe you’ll let me explain?”
Her eyes narrowed, but she rotated away from him, grabbing at the towel and tucking the ends in place again as she rose up on one hip. He laid the robe across her shoulders and waited as she slipped her arms inside. The terry material pooled as she sat upright, then flowed around her thighs when she slipped off the far side of the table.
Dean turned around and found the Major standing in the doorway, a grin on his wrinkled face. He offered the old man a quick wink. “Are you all set, Miss Lennox?”
“Y-yes, thank you.”
He looked back over one shoulder, watching as she stepped around the table, head held high as if she were wearing a ball gown instead of an oversize robe.
Dean made the introductions. “This is one of your guests, Priscilla Lennox. I’m afraid she mistook this room for the one used for spa services provided here at the inn. Miss Lennox, this is Major General Elwin Gates, United States Marine Corps, Retired, and proprietor of the Painted Lady. He’s here for his physical-therapy session.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, sir.” She stepped forward, offered a bright smile and held out her hand. “I do apologize for my error and for taking over your private session.”
“Apologies aren’t necessary, miss.” Elwin returned her handshake. “And you can call me Major. Everyone does. Now, I’m going to see where my wife disappeared to so we can get you to the right place.”
“Oh, you don’t have to leave on my account. I’ll just gather my clothes and let you two gentlemen get to your session.”
She backed up a few steps and walked right into Dean. He grabbed her waist to steady her, but she whirled around, the sweet politeness replaced with a contemptuous look that had him holding up both hands in mock surrender.
“Hey, I tried to tell you.”
“You didn’t try very hard,” she retorted, her voice low.
“You don’t have to whisper. Major’s gone to find out where your massage is supposed to be taking place.”
“That’s fine, but I’m leaving, as well.”
She tried to sidestep around him, but Dean latched on to her arm. “Hold on. You’re not going anywhere yet.”
“Oh, I’m not?” Her eyes turned icy, but the toss of her head and the squaring of her shoulders told him a little spitfire lay inside this cool beauty. Dean liked that.
“Look, we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. Twice.” He eased his hold, his fingers gently massaging the inside of her elbow through the material. “Let me make it up to you. Have you eaten? We could grab something after our respective appointments.”
“I’m not—”
A low rumbling interrupted her. She slapped her free hand over her stomach.
He grinned.
Women like Priscilla Lennox—classy, wealthy, high society—were way out of his league. A lesson he’d learned the hard way a few years back before he’d moved out west to Destiny from his home in Sea Point, New Jersey.
Heck, he’d bet her car cost more than what he’d spent on his couple of acres of land north of town and the log home he’d had built there last year. But he’d been spending too much time alone lately and it didn’t hurt to hit one for the fences every now and then. And Daisy actually seemed to like her.
“You were saying?”
She lifted her chin. “I’m not hungry.”
“You sure I can’t tempt you with the best burgers this side of the Rockies? The Blue Creek Saloon has great food, cold beer, and on Friday nights there’s usually a band playing kick-ass country music. It’s not as fancy as what you’re probably used to, but I think you’d enjoy it.”
The icy veneer in her eyes spread to her entire body. She pulled free of his hold. “As interesting as that sounds, Mr. Zippenella, I plan to stay in tonight.”
He liked the sound of his name on her lips, and she even pronounced it correctly. She was also turning him down.
He watched her walk toward the chair where her clothes lay neatly folded. “Another night, perhaps.”
She took the pile in her arms and then headed for the door. “I’m aware Destiny is a small town, but I don’t see any reason for us to run into each other again.”
Hmm, what was that old proverb his nonni always used to say? May you be wise enough to know when to give up the fight. Of course, the words sounded prettier in her native Italian, and it’d been advice he and his brothers had rarely followed. “How long do you plan to be in town?”
“I don’t really know.” She paused in the doorway. “It really depends on the man I came here to see.”
A man. And just like that his attempt at a home run fizzled as the third strike whizzed by him. She was in town because of a man.
Chapter Three
“Your place is truly spectacular, Bobby.” Priscilla sat at one end of an outdoor sectional sofa, which, along with a pair of matching chairs, defined the entertainment area of an oversize back deck that ran the length of the massive log home. Set in a lush forest on the side of a mountain, the house had taken Priscilla’s breath away when she’d first pulled into the circular drive. “Both inside and out. The pictures in the magazines don’t do it justice.”
“Thank you.” The former race-car champion set about fixing drinks behind the bar while his wife, Leeann, set a tray of cheese, crackers and fruit on the glass coffee table. “I’ve dreamed of living in a log house since I was kid, so when I finally had the money to do it right—”
“He went a bit overboard.” Leeann cut off her husband with a smile as she curled up in the opposite corner of the sofa. “As usual.”
“Lee didn’t like the place when she first saw it.”
“Hey, I said it was impressive.”
“Which was her polite way of saying lifeless.” Bobby joined them, handing each woman a glass of iced tea. Then he motioned at Priscilla’s purse. “You sure your friend doesn’t need anything? Maybe some water?”
Priscilla took a quick peek inside the oversize tote tucked next to her, happy to see Snake curled up asleep. “No, I think the tour wore him out. Even with you carrying him from room to room most of the time.”
Bobby grinned and reached back for an icy beer he’d left on the bar for himself and then sat next to his wife, wrapping his arm around her. “I felt bad for the guy, trying to keep up on those little legs. And Lee was right. The place was impressive, but sterile. After I won her heart—again—she added life, and love, and made it a home for us.”
Priscilla smiled as the couple shared a quick kiss. It was easy to see Bobby was truly happy, which hadn’t always been the case in the years before a spectacular crash had ended his successful racing career.
“Well, you’ve succeeded in creating a warm and inviting home. Leeann, I’m so glad we got the chance to meet and that I could see your place in person.”
“We’re happy to show it off, but now that the tour is over, you still haven’t said how you ended up in our little corner of the world.” Bobby took a quick swallow from his beer. “Did I tell you how surprised I was to get your call? Not to mention to hear that you were right here in Destiny. The last time we saw each other was just before my accident, when you and Jonathan hosted that charity-sailing gig down in San Diego.”
Priscilla tried not to squirm on the sofa—Lennox women never squirmed, according to her father—at Bobby mentioning her ex. No, Bobby hadn’t come right out and said he’d been surprised by the breakup, but the disbelief in his voice had been evident when they’d spoken last night.
After that embarrassing mix-up over who exactly was supposed to be giving her a massage, and where, Priscilla had gone through with the appointment, not wanting to waste the time of the woman who had indeed been waiting for her in another part of the inn. She then made her way back to her room, blaming the warmth flowing through her veins and the tingling sensation dancing over her skin on the well-executed bodywork. That had to be the reason. It couldn’t possibly be because she’d actually wondered for a moment or two during the massage what it would’ve felt like to have that Good Samaritan/physical therapist/shameless flirt be the one to pull, tug and rub her sore muscles.
Or if she should have accepted his dinner invitation.
Her stomach had certainly liked the idea, but his crack about the local restaurants not being up to the level of what she might be used to set off warning bells. Had he figured out who she was? Of course, it would only take a quick Google search to find out what she’d been through the past week. “Priscilla?”
She blinked, realizing Bobby and Leeann were waiting for her to answer. What was the question again? Oh, yes. Why she was in town.
“Well, my vacation plans for the summer changed rather suddenly.” Priscilla paused to wet her dry throat with a sip of tea. Priscilla had wondered if her family’s latest escapade with the Hollywood gossip mill was something Bobby would mention when she arrived, but neither he nor Leeann had said anything as they welcomed her warmly into their home. “When I found myself taking a spontaneous road trip, I decided to head somewhere...unexpected.”
“I guess Destiny could be considered that, considering your usual surroundings,” Leeann said. “We’re about as far away from the glitz and glamour of Beverly Hills as one can get.”
Priscilla heard no malice in the woman’s tone, but she was thankful for the years of experience that kept her smile relaxed. She did feel a bit lost and out of place in this small Western town, much like Alice when she’d dropped into Wonderland.
Not to mention the fact she was vastly overdressed.
Her deep purple silk sundress and favorite taupe-colored peep-toed heels were a bit much for a casual Saturday afternoon. Despite her friend Lisa’s hairstyle suggestion, she’d gone with her familiar French twist and simple yet elegant gold jewelry. She carried a leather tote big enough for her portfolio, not to mention Snake and his favorite pillow.
After going through her suitcases this morning, she’d realized that while her wardrobe might be perfect for a European holiday, most of her outfits wouldn’t fit into the much more casual style of a place like Destiny, Wyoming.
Bobby’s wife, a stunning brunette who moved with an ease that spoke of her former career as a fashion model, wore a simple outfit of dark blue shorts that ended just above her knees, a white cotton shirt and canvas sneakers with no laces. Bobby, too, was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt embroidered with his former team’s racing logo.
She couldn’t remember one time during her three years with Jonathan when he’d ever worn a shirt without a collar. Not even last summer while cruising on his yacht.
“Yes, well, getting away—” Priscilla hesitated and then pushed any thoughts of her ex from her head “—is exactly what I...planned. Now, why don’t you tell me more about this summer camp of yours? You mentioned it when you showed me the architectural drawings and photographs in your study, but I’d love to hear more.”
“This is the first summer Camp Diamond has been open, so we consider it a shakedown period,” Bobby said. “The staff is pretty much in place and we’ve offered free stays for local kids from Destiny in return for acting as test subjects, for lack of a better word, for two-week sessions that will run through Labor Day. We’ll take a week off in between each session to make any needed repairs, upgrades or rework any of the programs.”
While Bobby spoke, Priscilla leaned over and placed her glass on the low square table in front of her and then reached for her portfolio. She itched to start making notes, but held off until she could gauge how he and Leeann were going to feel about her research. “How’s that working?”
“Well, we’re only finishing up the first week of our second session, but so far, so good.” He glanced at his wife, who offered a nod in agreement. “A few hiccups along the way, but we expected that. The plan is to have our first full season next summer.”
“We have a business plan, a board of directors and an advisory council for the camp in place, as well,” Leeann added. “Thanks to my husband’s generosity, Camp Diamond doesn’t carry any debt on its land or the buildings, and it’s fully funded for the next few years.”
Hmm, she hadn’t been aware of that fact. “It must take quite a bit of financial support to run this type of operation year after year, covering everything from salaries to insurance to marketing. Is raising funds an important part of your business plan?”
“Ah, yes, it is, but like Lee said, we’re in a good place money-wise at the moment.” Bobby paused. “Wait a minute. Have you been looking into this?”
Priscilla smiled, glad that he seemed more surprised than insulted at her initiative. “It’s what I do, remember?”
“Yeah, I know, but I never expected... Wow. I only mentioned the camp a couple of times when you called to thank me for our donation to your gala event this past week.”
It took a bit of effort, but she managed to keep the tainted images from that night from coming back to life and focused instead on the here and now. “I was intrigued by what you’re trying to do.”
“Talk about great timing,” Leeann said, enthusiasm shining in her eyes. “We were just trying to come up with ideas for a fund-raising event and here we have an expert right in front of us.”
Taking that as permission to proceed, Priscilla flipped open her portfolio and glanced at her notes. “So, have you thought about corporate sponsorship?”
“We do have one—my former racing team that I’m still a part owner of—but I’m a bit hesitant about having outsiders giving funds and then wanting a voice in how the camp is run.”
Priscilla added the information about Bobby’s team to the list she’d created this morning. “What about sponsors a bit closer to home?”
“Well, there aren’t exactly a lot of big corporations in Destiny.”
A fact she knew thanks to her research, but Priscilla had something different in mind. “What I meant was maybe you should be looking at people who have a connection to this area instead of looking for business sponsors.”
Bobby glanced at his wife for a moment, then looked back at Priscilla. “That’s sort of what we have in mind when it comes to an event, but I’m guessing you’re talking about people with deep pockets?”
“Exactly.” Priscilla pulled out her list. “Have either of you ever heard of the high-tech mogul Drake Hamill?”
“Sure. Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Drake Hamill. They’re all members of the same club.”
“Drake and his company are based in Silicon Valley, but he’s originally from Laramie. He attended the University of Wyoming and has a vacation home in Jackson Hole, so he comes back to the state often.”
“I’ve met him a few times at your foundation events in L.A.,” Bobby said. “We did talk about being from Wyoming. Interesting idea.”
“I found that long-established camps often rely on alumni, not only to send their children to the same camp they once attended, but to assist in fund-raising efforts, as well. You don’t have that yet, but there used to be a summer camp in town that ran for over twenty-five years. Their former campers might be interested in learning there’s a new camp here in Destiny.”
Bobby nodded. “I guess that’s something we could look into. If we can get any information from the Shipmans, the family that used to own the old camp.”
“It would take a bit of doing,” Leeann added. “There aren’t any Shipmans still living in Destiny that I know of.”
“Well, I’ve found at least one former camper who’s a big name. Did you know that the San Antonio Alamos’ second baseman, Jax Summers, was born and raised in Chapman Falls, which is only two hours from here? According to his website, he first learned to hit a baseball while attending the Shipmans’ camp. His parents still live up there and he’s often home during the off season.”
Bobby looked impressed. “I don’t think I ever knew that.”
“I’ve come up with a half-dozen people who have a history of generous charitable giving and, most importantly, a connection to this area.”
“Can we see that list?” Bobby asked.
Priscilla handed them her findings, watching as Bobby and Leeann, heads close together, read it.
She was pleased that her ideas were going over so well. As someone whose closest experience to kids’ summer camp was English riding lessons at the Beverly Hills Riding Club, Priscilla had spent a lot of time over the past few days learning everything she could about summer camps.
She’d been surprised to find ones that specialized in everything from sports to technology to the arts, but she’d concentrated on private, traditional sleepaway camps that offered a variety of activities like Camp Diamond.
“I think you’re onto something here.” Bobby tapped a finger against the piece of paper. “This is an idea the board of directors should explore further, but when Leeann said we were looking at fund-raising, we were actually thinking of something simpler.”
“Simpler?”
“And even more local.” Leeann rested a hand on Bobby’s jean-clad thigh. “From the very beginning, we wanted the people of Destiny, our families and friends, to be a part of the camp. We used a local company, Murphy Mountain Log Homes, to design and build all the buildings, and while we had to go outside the area to fill some of the senior staff positions, a lot of the staff, including most of the counselors, are local high-school and college kids.”
“Yes, well, I’m sure summer jobs are scarce in a town this small, so that’s a good thing, but I’m not sure what you’re looking for as far as—”
“Hey! Anyone home?”
A deep, booming voice filled the air, cutting her off. It seemed to come through the trees, but Priscilla guessed whoever bellowed was down below the wraparound deck.
“Yeah, we’re here. Come on up,” Bobby called out and then offered a sheepish grin when his wife swatted at him. “Sorry about that, Priscilla. A buddy of mine is here for an early dinner. Why don’t you stay and join us?”
“Oh, I don’t want to intrude.”
“You won’t. Please stay,” Leeann said. “We have plenty of food and this way I won’t be outnumbered. As usual.”
“Hey, you’re never outnumbered.”
“A female dog doesn’t count— Oh, no! Bobby, he’s got Dais—”
A blur of wiry golden-and-brown hair on four legs raced around the corner of the deck. Before Priscilla could brace herself, she had a familiar furry snout pressed into her hand as the same dog that greeted her yesterday in the river jumped up on the sectional right next to her.
Which meant her owner wasn’t too far behind.
“Oh, my, would you look at that.” Leeann’s voice was low. “I never thought I’d see this day.”
Priscilla’s hand stilled where she spontaneously started to scratch at the dog’s ears. She looked up and found Leeann and Bobby staring, mouths agape. “I’m sorry?”
“That dog hates women,” Leeann said, “but look at her cuddling up to you.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Daisy behave this way before,” Bobby added.
“Tell me about it.”
Priscilla turned sharply at the familiar voice, instantly recognizing her Good Samaritan and Daisy’s owner.
The first thing she saw was a pair of battered deck shoes. Her gaze slowly rose over tanned muscular legs dusted with dark hairs to his baggy cargo shorts. His deep green Camp Diamond T-shirt was untucked and stretched taut across his broad, powerful chest.
When a knowing grin crossed his handsome face, Priscilla realized she’d just assessed him as closely as he’d done to her yesterday. At least he was wearing more than a towel.
Too bad.
Surprised at the thoughts racing through her mind and the way her body responded to them, Priscilla forced her gaze to remain locked with the man she hadn’t thought she’d see again. “Well, hello.”
He bowed slightly and tipped his head, and she couldn’t tell if he meant the gesture to be gallant or mocking. “Hello to you. Again.”
“Wait, you two know each other?” Bobby asked.
Priscilla turned back, rushing to speak before Dean could. “We met yesterday afternoon when I first arrived in town.”
“Down by the Blue Creek. She was pulled over and I stopped to see if she needed any help.”
“Yes, Mr. Zippenella and his dog were quite the welcoming committee,” she hastily added, hoping Dean wouldn’t mention the details of their run-in, both in the water and later at the inn.
“To say Daisy is smitten is a bit of an understatement,” the man added, walking toward the bar.
“Boy, I’d say. Look at her. She’s never been that friendly with me or any woman in town.” Leeann’s voice was still filled with awe. “What’s your secret?”
“I don’t quite understand it, either.” Priscilla found herself once again moving her fingertips along the dog’s neck. “I mean, I’m a fan of animals, of course, but even I was a bit surprised at how outgoing—”
“Yeah, speaking of animals, where’s that pint-size yip factory of yours?” Dean asked. “What did you call it? Snack?”
Priscilla glanced at her bag, surprised the pup hadn’t made an appearance yet. “Snake is taking a nap at the moment— Oh!”
His tiny pointed ears popped up first, and then seconds later, Snake hopped from his hiding spot and landed on the deck at Priscilla’s feet. The dog growled deep in his throat, causing Daisy’s owner to slide onto one of the tall stools situated in front of the bar.
And lift his feet well out of reach.
* * *
Dean’s favorite deck shoes had been through hell over the years, and they looked it, but they’d never been peed on. The last thing he wanted was for that rat to get a second shot at him.
“Snake. Hush!”
This time the pup listened to his owner.
Dean took a moment to pull in a deep breath, watching Priscilla lean over and easily lift her pet to her side.
The last person he’d expected to run into here was Miss Lennox.
When she’d told him yesterday she was in town to meet up with a man, he’d never thought in a million years it’d be Bobby. Of course, she did look like the type of woman his buddy had dated over the years once his racing career had taken off. Blonde. Beautiful. Bankrolled. That was before Bobby had returned to Destiny and rekindled his high-school love affair with Leann a couple of years ago.
You’re about eighteen months too late, honey.
Dean thought back to Bobby and Leann’s wedding, held right here in their home on New Year’s Eve. He’d stood up as best man for them, having gotten Bobby back on his feet with an innovative physical-therapy program that had led to Dean’s employment with the local veterans’ center.
Sticking around and becoming a permanent resident of Destiny hadn’t been in his plans. He’d always figured he’d head back to his native New Jersey, but he’d found something here in this quiet rural community that had been missing in his life.
“Well, I guess Priscilla’s dog doesn’t feel the same way about you, huh, buddy?” Bobby asked, then grinned.
“Tell me about it.” Dean looked back at Priscilla, who’d managed to quiet her pet. “You think I can get myself a beer without being attacked?”
“Oh, you’ll be safe,” she answered, her smile confident. She continued to pet both dogs as they played at rubbing noses before settling into curled balls of fur on either side of her. “As long as you stay over there.”
“Yeah, I bet.” Deciding it was best to move slowly, Dean eased off the stool and walked behind the bar. He pulled a cold beer from the refrigerator and popped the top as curiosity got the best of him. Would Bobby really invite an ex-girlfriend to town? “So, how do you all know each other?”
“Priscilla is visiting from Los Angeles. She’s got some great ideas for fund-raising for the camp.”
“I didn’t know you were looking into that.” Dean figured the princess could easily write a check to pay the camp’s bills for the next year without breaking a nail. “So, you’re a moneymaker?”
She lifted her chin and her blue eyes regarded him snootily. “I generate philanthropic support for a wide variety of nonprofit organizations, so yes, I guess ‘moneymaker’ is an apt title.”
There was that spitfire he’d caught a glimpse of yesterday. “So, what kind of support are you dreaming up for the camp?”
“Well, we just started talking about what Bobby and Leeann have in mind for an event.” She looked back at them. “Based on my experience, I could offer any number of ideas for an intimate gathering, from a plated dinner to an art auction, perhaps?”
“Plated dinners around here are potlucks, and the closest thing we have to art is the craft fair at the local high school.” Dean took a long swallow from his beer, wondering why he was goading her.
Maybe because she was one of Bobby’s former flames?
If so, thanks to the unwritten male code, she would be off-limits to any of the let’s-get-to-know-each-other-better ideas that had swirled around inside his head from the moment he’d met her. “You’re going to have to get more creative than that.”
Both Bobby and Leeann shot him dark looks, his friend’s laced with confusion, while Leann’s was downright pissed.
“Those are both great ideas, but like I started to say before we were interrupted—” Leeann’s tone softened as she turned to her guest “—we’re looking for more than just a standard fund-raiser. Everyone in Destiny has embraced the idea of the camp. Many are asking how they can help, but we don’t want to just take their money.”
“You want to accept their contributions during a specific event for the community that will earmark any funds as going directly to the camp. I totally understand that.” Priscilla finished Leann’s sentence, taking her attention off the dogs and scribbling on the notepad on her lap. “Give me a moment, won’t you?”
Silence filled the air and Dean could almost see the wheels turning inside Priscilla’s head. He caught his friends looking his way again, but he kept his gaze on Priscilla’s perfectly coiffed hair, deciding he preferred it long and loose around her shoulders like when he first saw her down at the river. Or wet and streaming down her back as it had been when she’d risen from the water.
He wondered what this society princess was going to come up with that would appeal to the folks of Destiny. Then she scratched over whatever she’d just written with firm strokes, repeating that three times and then circling the last item on her list.
“Now, I’m not sure how well this idea would work. It really depends on a variety of factors related to the town, starting of course with a willingness to go for something a bit unconventional....” Her words were soft, almost as if she were talking aloud to herself. She then looked up at Dean. “Are you a bachelor, Mr. Zippenella?”
Surprised by her question, the beer bottle almost slipped from his fingers. Did she really think he’d hit on her if he was married? He tightened his grip. “Didn’t I make that fact clear yesterday?”
A light flush colored her cheeks. “Yes, you did. My apologies.”
Bobby laughed. “Are you kidding? Zip will be one of Destiny’s last bachelors.”
One elegant eyebrow lifted. “Zip?”
For a reason he couldn’t figure out at the moment, Dean didn’t want her calling him that. “It’s a nickname. But call me Dean.”
She blinked once, the pink tinge on her face deepening as she focused her attention back on Bobby and Leeann. “Would you say that the single-to-married ratio is fairly balanced in Destiny?”
“I guess so,” Leann answered. “I never really thought about it much.”
“What about male versus female? I’m hoping Mr. Zipp—Dean—isn’t truly the town’s last bachelor?”
“Oh, yeah?” Dean asked. “Why is that?”
“Well, you would need at least a dozen to make this worthwhile.”
“I’m confused,” Bobby said. “A dozen what?”
“Bachelors,” Priscilla announced with a bright smile. “A bachelor auction, with the ladies bidding for a night on the town with the men of their choice, could be just the event you’re looking for.”
Chapter Four
The surprise in Priscilla’s blue eyes told him laughter was the last thing she expected in response to her idea, but Dean—and thankfully, Bobby was chuckling right there with him—couldn’t help himself. “Are you serious?” he choked out after pausing to catch his breath. “Okay, I’m sorry. I can see you are, but a bachelor auction? That’s—”
“Wonderful!” Leeann scooched to the edge of the sofa and leaned toward Priscilla. “I think it’s a perfectly wonderful idea.”
“You do?” Dean and Bobby spoke in unison.
Bobby’s amusement instantly faded to disbelief. “Really?”
“Of course!” She turned to her husband, staring at him as if she didn’t understand how he didn’t see the big picture. “There are plenty of unmarried men in Destiny who can participate. Many of the ranches must have single cowboys. Heck, Maggie and Landon have expanded their place so much over the last year they’ve got at least three or four men who are unattached.”
“Does that include Willie? He’s got to be pushing eighty,” Bobby said. “Hey, wait a minute, you said you’ve never thought about the unmarried men in this town.”
“I haven’t. Until now. And yes, Willie could be included. There shouldn’t be an age limit. What about the sheriff’s department? I’ve been away a few years now, but I know there’s at least a couple of single—” Leeann broke off, turning back to Priscilla. “Divorced men count, too, right? Single dads are okay?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” Priscilla looked surprised by the question, but then she recovered. “I mean, of course, divorced men and single dads would be fine. Being currently unattached would be the only prerequisite, I’d imagine.”
“Do you really think ladies are going to bid on a man?” Dean asked, the whole concept a bit mind-boggling for him. He was all for the female sex taking the initiative, but this? “For a date?”
“Are you kidding? They’ll love it. It’s like the old Sadie Hawkins dances back in high school! You remember? Where the girls get to invite the boys?” Leeann asked.
“How could I forget? It was one of our first dates,” Bobby said. “Of course, that invite didn’t cost you anything.”
“Just a lot of sleepless nights and a healthy chunk of my teenage pride over the fear you’d say no. Now, where to hold such an event?” Leeann paused, biting down on her bottom lip for a moment. “We would need a place big enough— Oh, I know! The Blue Creek Saloon! It’s a big place with a huge dance floor and a stage. Would that work?”
Priscilla glanced his way for a moment. Was she remembering his offer of the best burgers in town, maybe?
“I don’t know what the facility looks like, but a stage would work best for this sort of event,” she said. “Perhaps a runway could be constructed? The ladies could sit on either side while the bachelors walk back and forth?”
“Oh, a runway would be perfect.” Leeann said with a grin. “Let the buyers get a good look at what they’re spending their money on.”
“Hey, you sure about this?” Bobby reached for his wife’s hand and held fast. “I wouldn’t want the auction to bring back any memories...you know, a runway? Modeling?”
“Don’t worry, honey. I’ll be fine.”
Dean was glad to hear Leeann say that, even if his buddy didn’t look entirely convinced. In her former life, Leeann had been a famous fashion model, but a terrible experience at a photo shoot had made her give up her career. She’d eventually returned to Destiny and worked as a deputy for the sheriff’s department, but had left the force just before Bobby and Dean came to town. Now she was committed full-time to the camp.
“I’m serious,” Leeann continued, punctuating her words with a kiss for her husband. “That’s behind me now. Let’s concentrate on the fund-raiser, okay?”
“You know, you could also involve some of the other local restaurants.” Priscilla scribbled in her notebook again. “Perhaps they could have a special menu in place for the week following the auction geared toward the winners and their dates. Or provide a coupon for a two-for-one dinner or a discount.”
“That’s a great idea. We’d have to get the okay from Racy—she’s the owner of the Blue Creek— but if anyone will jump on board with this idea, it’s Racy,” Leeann added. “But when do we hold the event? I believe Racy books her bands a few weeks in advance, so we might be looking at August. That would give us plenty of time for planning and advertising. Can you stick around that long?”
“Stick around?” Priscilla asked.
“Sure. We’ll need you here to coordinate the entire event, since it was your brainchild.”
Dean had been listening to the back-and-forth about this crazy idea, waiting for the right moment to remind them that without the men agreeing to participate, this whole thing was going nowhere. He’d been about to say something when Leeann’s question caused the conversation to fade into silence.
“I—ah—I hadn’t thought that far,” Priscilla finally said before she dropped her gaze to the notebook on her lap and flipped it closed. “I was just sharing a few thoughts off the top of my head.”
“And the auction is the best one! We wanted something new and different, something that everyone in the town could be involved in. But we need a person with your experience to pull this together and to be the master of ceremonies.”
“Oh, no, that’s not my style.” She looked up, her pen clenched tight in her fist. “I’m very much a behind-the-scenes kind of person.”
Her words were softly spoken, but firm. Dean found her argument hard to believe. Someone as beautiful as her not wanting to be the center of attention?
“The host for the evening should be a person familiar with the locals, both the bachelors and the ladies doing the bidding,” Priscilla continued. “Just in case either group is a bit shy about getting the ball rolling, which can happen at auctions. An added bonus would be someone who is also a big part of the camp. You would be perfect for the job, Leeann.”
“Me?” Leeann flattened one hand against her chest. “Well, yeah, I guess I could...but only if you’re here to help me. Please? You did say your plans for the summer changed. Do you have the free time? Can you stay?”
Dean found himself holding his breath, waiting for her to answer. Realizing how dumb that was, he purposely released it and took another long pull from his beer. Still, he couldn’t look away, and when Priscilla released a soft sigh, he felt it all the way to his bones.
She was staying.
“Yes, of course I’ll stay.”
Leeann clapped her hands, joyous that she’d gotten her way. Not that Dean had had any doubt. When his buddy’s wife wanted something, she usually got it. “I know you’ve taken a room at the inn, but you’re welcome to move into one of our guest rooms if you and Snake would be more comfortable.”
Dean’s hand froze, the beer bottle halfway to his mouth. Priscilla stay here? Was Leeann nuts? Who invited their husband’s ex-girlfriend to room down the hall?
Mind your own business. You aren’t interested, remember?
Yeah, if he kept telling himself that, maybe he’d believe it. No, what Dean needed to keep telling himself was that the lady was off-limits thanks to his buddy having been there first. Even if the two of them hooking up had to have been at least three or four years ago. Right around the time he’d been getting shown the door by—
“Thank you for the invitation,” Priscilla said, “but I think I’ll—we’ll—stay where we are.”
“We all love the Painted Lady, and the house is a national landmark, but it must be vastly different from what you’re used to.”
Priscilla tucked her notebook away in her oversize bag and leaned forward to take her glass from the table. Straightening, she crossed one knee over the other, causing her skirt to ride up. Dean now had a perfect view of those magnificent legs that had haunted his dreams last night.
“Oh, the room is beautiful and quite large,” she said. “I’m on the top floor and the staff has been very accommodating.”
Dean snorted, then covered it up with a quick cough when she glanced his way. He bet they were accommodating. Major hadn’t shut up about her the entire time Dean had put him through his paces during their physical-therapy session, grilling him about the beautiful blonde like the marine boot-camp drill sergeant he’d once been.
“Oh, you’re in the best room at the inn. The bridal suite.”
The smile remained, but she gripped her glass with both hands, her fingers pressed hard enough to turn her knuckles white. “Am I? I hadn’t realized. Well, it’s a comfortable room, large enough for me and Snake. Not to mention the claw-foot bathtub is a dream.”
Okay, that was a visual he didn’t need.
“I hate to throw a wrench into this whole auction idea—” Bobby nudged at his wife’s shoulder “—but you still need to secure a group of men willing to be sold like cattle at a livestock auction. Thankfully, this side of beef is off the market.”
“Yes, you are—” Leeann leaned in and gave him another quick kiss “—but you’re right. Without the men, this isn’t going to work. There are plenty to choose from, but getting them to agree might be another issue.”
“Surely once you explain the reason behind the event they’d be willing to participate,” Priscilla said. “At least for one date with the lady who wins him.”
“Maybe, but we’d probably have better luck convincing them if—” Leeann cocked her head to one side “—say, one of their own had already agreed to participate?”
It was then Dean noticed she was looking right at him. Oh, hell no. “Forget it, Leeann. I’m not interested.”
“But you are single, right?” Leeann pressed. “You haven’t been steadily involved with anyone for a while.”
Dean looked at Priscilla and found her watching him as she scratched Daisy, who’d rolled over onto her back, exposing her belly in a display of contented bliss. “Yes— No— Yes, I’m single, and no, I’m not dating—”
“I’m assuming from your shirt you’re involved with the camp somehow?” Priscilla asked.
His empty bottle hit the bar top with a thud. “I volunteer at Camp Diamond because we’re open to all kids, even those with disabilities. I’m there to handle any physical-therapy issues that might arise.”
“Very admirable. Can I also assume you were born and raised in Destiny?”
“Nope. Sea Point, New Jersey.” Dean enjoyed the stunned look on her face. “I’m a beach bum who’s only lived out in the Wild West for the last few years. Don’t even own a Stetson.”
“But you’re so popular you might as well be a native,” Leeann countered. “You’re part of the volunteer fire department and I know there must be a couple of single guys there you could persuade to join the cause. Oh, and you could get the Murphy brothers to sign up, too! Devlin’s still in London with Tanya, but Liam and Nolan are single.”
Knowing he was fighting a losing battle against Leeann’s enthusiasm, Dean looked at his best friend for backup, but Bobby’s grin told him he was on his own. There had to be a way to get out of this mess, but damned if he could think of one.
Leeann and Bobby had wanted something that would allow the town to support the camp, even though an event this size probably wouldn’t bring in the kind of funds Priscilla was used to. Unless, of course, things got out of hand and she turned it into one of her highfalutin parties or, worse, decided she’d had enough of country life and returned to sunny Southern California, leaving Leeann on her own to pull this off.

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