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Feels Like Home
Beth Andrews
She's planning a wedding…not a romance!Keeping up appearances is Yvonne Delisle's forte. But this job is going to test even her Southern belle mettle! It's not challenging enough she only has six weeks to turn a ramshackle carriage house into the hottest society wedding venue in Virginia. It's also located on her ex–husband Aidan's family vineyard. The home–and the man–she yearned for.But Yvonne's up for the challenge. In the time since things went south with Aidan, she's become the most sought–after wedding planner in the state–popular enough to arrange her former mother–in–law's second wedding. Except…it's becoming suspiciously clear she wasn't hired for her professional expertise. Someone is plotting a reconciliation.and Yvonne is more tempted by the day. Let's see who actually walks down that aisle…



“I was your wife.”
Aidan’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Was being the operative word.”
Her heart pounded so hard, Yvonne was sure he could see it fluttering the ruffles on her shirt. “Wife being the important one. I just want to make sure we can work together.”
“You really don’t know why my mother hired you, do you?”
Suddenly uneasy, she kept any hint of it out of her tone as she said, “She hired me to plan her wedding. And because the Diamond Dust needs someone to help coordinate events.”
“First of all, we only decided to start hosting events Sunday night—and before you start counting, that was only three days ago. And, out of all the events coordinators in the South, she hired you. It never occurred to you to wonder why?”
Yvonne brushed a piece of dog hair off her skirt. “She needed someone with experience. Someone willing to relocate—”
“She hired you,” he said flatly, “because she thinks if we work together, if you’re back in Jewell, you’ll get back in my life. She hired you because she wants us to get back together.”

Dear Reader,
I firmly believe in second chances. Maybe that’s why I love reunion stories so much. Going along on the journey with two people who’ve drifted apart only to find their way together again always leaves me with a smile and a sense of closure—it’s as if things have finally turned out the way they were meant to.
That’s how I feel about Feels Like Home. Though Aidan and Yvonne have been divorced for many years, they were meant to be together. Unfortunately, bringing them back together wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped!
If you’ve read either A Marine for Christmas or The Prodigal Son you know Aidan is stubborn, bossy and a bit arrogant. So, of course, getting him to realize he’d made his fair share of mistakes during his short-lived marriage wasn’t easy. But it was so worth it.
I try to make sure my characters earn their happy ending, that they grow and change as a result of the conflicts in the story. But mostly, I want them to become their best selves by loving, and receiving love from, the person they were meant to be with.
Though both Aidan and Yvonne have changed since she walked out on him years ago, the past is right there, between them every step of the way. Only when they’re able to see the other in the present, only when they’re able to forgive, can they move on to the future.
I can’t believe it’s time to say goodbye to The Diamond Dust and the Sheppards. I had a great time getting to know these characters and writing their stories, and I hope you enjoyed reading them, as well.
I love to hear from readers. Please visit my website, www.bethandrews.net, or write to me at P.O. Box 714, Bradford, PA 16701.
Beth Andrews

Feels Like Home
Beth Andrews

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

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Romance Writers of America RITA® Award Winner Beth Andrews lives in Northwestern Pennsylvania with her husband and two teenage daughters. During the course of writing her Diamond Dust trilogy, she purchased copious amounts of wine, purely for research purposes. When not drinking…er…researching she can be found in the passenger seat of her SUV gripping the dashboard, slamming her foot on a nonexistent brake and praying fervently. Or, in other words, teaching her older daughter to drive. She still counts the days until her son returns from college—mainly because he already knows how to drive. Learn more about Beth and her books by visiting her website, www.BethAndrews.net.
This book is dedicated to all whose lives have
been touched by cancer. And to the men and
women who devote their lives to finding a cure.

Acknowledgments
My sincere gratitude to Mitzi Batterson of James
River Cellars Winery in Glen Allen, VA.

CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER ONE
OH, DEAR LORD, what had she gotten herself into?
A cool breeze blew Yvonne Delisle’s hair into her eyes and she impatiently tucked it behind her ear as she stared up at the ancient carriage house. Her career as a wedding consultant, the sixteen years she’d spent on the pageant circuit and, most importantly, being the only child of Savannah social royalty Richard and Elaine Delisle, had all taught her one very important fact.
Appearances counted.
Especially when it came to weddings. So why on earth retired senator Allen Wallace and vineyard owner Diane Sheppard would want to have theirs in this particular building was beyond her. The wood siding was weathered and mottled, ranging from a dull gray to deep tan. Shingles were sliding off the steeply pitched roof. What glass was left in the windows was scratched beyond repair, and the left side of the overhang above the double carriage doors dropped precariously.
She tucked her cold fingers into the short pockets of her fitted jacket. Then again, it wasn’t up to her to decide where her couples got married. If it was, the Shields-Larson wedding never would’ve taken place at a dairy farm—complete with mooing cows and the pungent smell of manure.
No, she thought as she crossed to the building’s wooden door, the tall heels of her black pumps wobbling on the gravel drive. Her job was to make sure the bride got exactly what she wanted. Whether the wedding took place at a church, the beach or a carriage house that looked as if it should be condemned.
She hoped it didn’t fall down while she was inside.
With a quick prayer, she unlocked the door and stepped in. The smell hit her first—wet wood, motor oil and dust. Then she realized that even though the morning sunlight filtered through the dirty windows, it was colder inside than out. Leaving the door open, she flipped on the light switches. Several bare bulbs hanging from low-lying rafters flickered to life.
At least it was big enough to accommodate several hundred guests. Or it would be once it was cleared out. The place was packed with cardboard boxes, plastic tubs, shovels, rakes and other implements, wine barrels ranging from short and squat to one that reached her shoulder, old tools and large glass jars on a three-tiered wooden shelf.
Eyes narrowed, she turned in a slow circle and imagined the space as it could be. It had high ceilings, wide-planked floors and two exposed-brick walls. With some cleaning—okay, a lot of cleaning—a few coats of paint and new windows, it could be charming. In a rustic sort of way.
Maybe, just maybe, this could work.
She dug her BlackBerry from her purse and started to pace, kicking up dust as she typed in notes.
Candles. Dozens and dozens of white candles of all shapes and sizes. Miniature white lights strung along the rafters. Turning, she walked back to the door. She wasn’t due to meet with Diane until this afternoon, so didn’t know if the woman had already chosen a color scheme or not, but Yvonne was thinking chocolate-brown and bright green. Or better yet, brown and robin’s egg blue.
She could incorporate the wine barrels into the decor. Use corks as name card holders. This wasn’t just the setting of Diane Sheppard’s second wedding after all; the Diamond Dust was her winery. A huge part of her life. Yvonne put her phone away, hung her purse on the handlebars of a faded red Huffy bike and set out to see what else she could find of use.
Twenty minutes later she’d accumulated several glass bottles, a wooden shutter she had no idea how she’d ever use but hadn’t been able to pass up and some wide picture frames. And then she saw it. The inspiration for the head table’s centerpiece—an antique lantern.
Now all she had to do was get to it. Easier said than done, as it was on top of some sort of workbench behind at least three feet of junk. Grabbing the arms of a hideous velvet high-backed chair, she pulled. Nothing happened. Not only was this the ugliest chair she’d ever had the misfortune of seeing, it was also the heaviest.
She slid her snug skirt up a few inches, bent and adjusted her grip on the chair.
“Excuse me.” She froze. That deep, oh-so-familiar voice. A voice that, even after all these years of trying to get him out of her head, Yvonne still heard in her dreams. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The nape of her neck prickled. She didn’t have to turn to know that Aidan Sheppard stood behind her, getting a good look at her rear. She straightened quickly, swayed a little before regaining her balance.
“Hello, Aidan,” she said, praying he didn’t notice the slight tremor in her voice. She smoothed her skirt back down to just above her knees, then turned. “How are you?”
He looked older, of course. She’d expected that. What she hadn’t expected was her reaction to him. Her mixed emotions. He was so tall and lean and…male. Unshaven, his face was sharper, the angles more pronounced. His shoulders broader in his sweaty, white T-shirt.
But his eyes were the same, a light blue with enough green in them to make it seem as if they were ever changing. For so long, she’d tried to be the woman he saw with those eyes. Until she realized she’d much rather be loved for herself.
“What are you doing here?” he repeated.
“I was trying to move this.” She indicated the chair. “I saw that lantern and—”
“And you thought you’d take it?”
She pursed her lips. “To use as a centerpiece,” she clarified.
He looked pointedly at the other items she’d collected. “And you couldn’t find a lantern—or any of this other stuff—in Charleston?”
“I’m sure I could. But I’m not in Charleston, am I?”
“Which brings me back to my original question.”
“I wanted to check out the building, see what I have to work…” His words sank in. She frowned. “What do you mean?”
He raised one eyebrow. “What are you doing in Jewell? Why are you on my family’s property?”
Surely Diane—Mrs. Sheppard—wouldn’t keep something this…big, important, awkward…from her son. Would she? “Didn’t your mother tell you?”
“Obviously not.”
Yvonne forced herself not to stare at his bare legs. He must be getting cold in those running shorts. “She hired me.”
Thanks to her parents’ tutelage in presenting an unruffled facade in any given situation, there was no way he could sense her nervousness. Her uncertainty.
“To work at the Diamond Dust,” she added when he said nothing.
“Is that so?” he murmured. “In what capacity?”
“She… I…” Yvonne licked her suddenly dry lips. She tugged at the bottom of her jacket. “I’m an events coordinator.”
He just stared.
Maybe her mother had been right and this was a mistake. A huge one. Maybe Yvonne shouldn’t have come here.
Shouldn’t have thought—hoped—Aidan would forgive her.
“You’re an events coordinator,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes. My specialty is weddings.”
“Weddings,” he repeated in a monotone. “Putting that business degree to good use, I see.”
Ducking her head so he couldn’t see that his dig had hit home, she shoved the chair a few more inches to get behind it. His was a familiar set-down, one she’d heard often enough from her parents. One she knew better than to respond to.
“Yes, well, plans change,” she said, moving aside a box of record albums. “But you already know that, don’t you?”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she cringed. She wasn’t here to antagonize him. She was here to do a job.
But Aidan he didn’t seem angry that she’d reminded him of his own forgotten plans. In fact, he now seemed indifferent…to the cold and to her.
She wanted to throw her shoe at him. Or that damn lantern. If she ever reached it.
“Since you seem surprised to find out your mother hired me,” Yvonne said, setting a tarnished brass table lamp on the chair, “I suppose she also didn’t mention that I’ll be staying here, as well.”
“Tell me you mean here as in the town of Jewell.”
“At the cottage. It seemed more…convenient…than trying to find a place in town.”
“We wouldn’t want you to be inconvenienced now, would we?”
“I offered to pay rent,” she assured him. “But your mother said it was empty, and included lodging as part of my fee.” She met his eyes unflinchingly. “I wouldn’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of Diane’s generosity.”
“One thing I never worry about is my mother being taken advantage of.”
Yvonne would have smiled, if he wasn’t looking at her so coldly. “No. Of course not. Diane’s very…capable.” Capable. Confident. Intimidating. Almost as intimidating as her own mother.
Yvonne leaned against the hard edge of the counter and reached for the lantern. Her fingertips grazed the metal base. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I don’t suppose you could…?”
“No.”
His refusal surprised her. He’d never refused her anything before. But that was then, she reminded herself.
She searched the area and spied a blue metal toolbox halfway under the bench. Kneeling, she wrestled it forward. “Do you…are you living here as well?” she asked, straightening. “At the Diamond Dust, I mean.”
Generations of Sheppards had lived at the historic plantation.
Aidan didn’t jump in to tease her out of her nerves. Smooth things over. He simply crossed his arms. “No.”
He certainly was getting good at using that one word with her. How was he not freezing in his running gear?
She turned her back to him and quickly pulled her skirt halfway up her thighs. Her face was so hot, she expected her hair to catch on fire. She stepped onto the toolbox, grabbed the lantern and stepped back down.
And yanked her skirt back into place.
“So you’re still at the house?” she asked, the lantern clutched to her chest.
The bungalow with vaulted ceilings and bright, airy rooms.
Their house.
“What I can’t help but wonder,” he said, “is what made you or my mother think that you working here would be a good idea.”
“I can’t speak for your mother…” Even if she could, she wouldn’t dare. “But I wanted a change. A challenge.”
And God knew getting the carriage house ready for a wedding in just over a month certainly qualified.
“Got tired of hosting fundraisers and attending luncheons at the country club?” he asked, as if they were discussing nothing more important—or interesting—than a round of golf.
Her grip on the lantern tightened. The corner of it dug into her ribs. He’d always treated her as if she was delicate. Someone best suited to look pretty on his arm. To be charming and sweet, and agree with him. To stand back and let him handle everything.
As her parents had taught her.
Just, she could admit—if only to herself—as she’d let him believe.
But she wasn’t that person anymore.
“Actually,” she said, “I’ve been working for World Class Weddings for the past five years.” And from the blank look he gave her, he had no idea what she was talking about. “It’s a wedding planning service in Charleston. One of the best.”
The sun streamed through the doorway, haloing Aidan in soft light. “And you decided to give that up to come work here?”
“I’m not giving anything up.” Which was one of the reasons she’d ultimately decided to accept Diane’s offer. “I’m excited to be here. To help build the special events side of your business from the start.” And then she’d go back to her job, back to her friends in Charleston.
“Unfortunately,” Aidan said—how she hated his sarcasm— “I don’t share your enthusiasm.”
“My enthusiasm for…?”
“Any of it.” His T-shirt pulled snug against his shoulders as his hands fisted beneath his crossed arms. “The winery hosting events, and mainly, you being anywhere near my family’s business.”
Though she told herself his opinions, his likes and dislikes, didn’t matter to her, not anymore, she was disappointed. “Oh. Well, maybe in time—”
“Time isn’t going to change my mind. And even if it could, it wouldn’t matter, because you won’t be here.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Let me make it clear to you, then,” he said flatly. “You’re fired.”

YVONNE BLINKED. Blinked again. But when she spoke, her voice was as precise, as unfailingly polite, as always. “You can’t fire me.”
Aidan wanted to throw that damn chair through a window. “I can’t?” He smiled.
She hesitated, confusion clouding her brown eyes. “No. I have a contract.”
“A contract with the Diamond Dust?”
“Of course.” Yvonne tilted her head so that her blond hair fell over her shoulder. He didn’t doubt the move was practiced. Just as rehearsed as her placid expression and condescending tone. “Would you care to see it?”
Though his mother owned the business, Aidan was the one in charge. All contracts went through him first. Everything to do with what he still called his father’s winery—which, in a matter of months, would be his winery—went through Aidan first. “I can’t think of anything I’d like more.” Except throwing her off his property for good.
“I left it in my car,” she said. She looked at him uncertainly. “If you’ll excuse me?”
And that’s when he realized she wasn’t being polite. She wanted him to move.
With a mocking bow, he took a deliberate step to the left, giving her plenty of space. “By all means. The last thing I’d want is to get in your way. Not when you have your heart set on leaving.”
Her step faltered. But then she continued on, her gait measured in her tight skirt. The sound of her high heels faded as she walked out the door.
But unlike her exit seven years ago, this time he was the one in control.
He followed her outside and watched as she crossed to her silver Lexus LS. She moved like the debutante she’d been—the sway of her hips subtle, her slim shoulders back. He watched as she slowly crossed the gravel driveway and opened her car door before sitting in the driver’s seat.
She was, as always, cool. Reserved.
Beautiful.
It’d been that beauty and her air of you can’t touch this that’d drawn him to her in the first place.
And he married her—loved her—despite her aloofness. He’d wanted to have children with her, have a life with her. Grow old with her.
But she’d left. And she had no right to come back.
The sweat had long since dried and cooled on his body as he stared over the car to the rolling hills surrounding his family’s property. Hard to believe not fifteen minutes ago it’d been just a normal Wednesday morning run. And then he’d reached the carriage house and discovered Yvonne digging through his father’s junk in that damn skirt and a short, snug jacket that emphasized her tiny waist.
He smirked. Once a beauty queen, always a beauty queen. Even in dust, grime and rodent droppings.
Yvonne climbed out of the car with a large manila envelope in her hand. By the time she reached him, his expression was once again carefully neutral, his shoulder relaxed.
She held out the envelope. “See for yourself.”
Aidan took it, not letting their fingers touch. He flipped it over. The shipping label was addressed to World Class Weddings, care of Ms. Yvonne Delisle.
She hadn’t kept his name.
He pulled out the sheaf of papers inside and quickly scanned them.
“Looks like a standard contract,” he said, forcing his tone to remain impassive. “Nothing that can’t be voided.”
She inhaled sharply. “I’ll sue.”
He almost laughed. “Drag your company, your family’s name, through the legal system?” Wouldn’t her father love that? And God knew, Yvonne didn’t do anything without her parents’ approval. “I don’t think so.”
“Don’t underestimate me, Aidan,” she said softly.
His blood heated. Underestimate her? He’d loved her. Given her everything he had.
“Don’t push me,” he warned gruffly. “I’m not one of those nice Southern boys your daddy handpicked for you.”
Although if she’d stuck with one of those pasty-faced men with old money and “the third” after their names, men who spent their days working for their fathers, their evenings at the club and their weekends with their mistresses, he’d have been better off.
“I’ll have to take my chances then,” she said.
“Why?”
After a moment, she shrugged. “I want this job.”
“And what daddy’s little princess wants, she gets. Isn’t that how it goes?”
“If it makes you feel better to believe that, go ahead.”
“You don’t know how much that means to me. Your permission.”
“Aidan, please,” she said, her voice washing over his cool skin like a warm shower, “I realize this came as a surprise to you, and I don’t know why your mother didn’t tell you about our agreement, but I was hoping we could get past our history.” She looked up at him from beneath her dark lashes. “I know it’ll be…awkward…at first and I realize you’re still angry with me—”
“I’m not,” he lied smoothly. A lie he wanted to believe. Because to be angry meant he still felt something for her.
Relieved, and she smiled as she laid her hand on his forearm. His breath lodged painfully in his lungs. His muscles tensed under her soft fingers. But he didn’t shake her off.
“Then you shouldn’t have any objection to me working at the Diamond Dust,” she said.
“I’m not angry,” he repeated and, slowly deliberately, removed her hand from his arm. “But I still don’t want you here.”
She sent him a pitying look, setting his teeth on edge. She pitied him?
Damn it all to hell. Damn her to hell.
“And what Aidan Sheppard wants, he gets,” she said, tossing his words back at him.
That wasn’t true. And that was okay. He understood life wasn’t fair. Didn’t expect it to be. But this time, this one time, he deserved to get exactly what he wanted.
“You’ll be well compensated for your time and travel expenses,” he said, sliding the contract back into the envelope and handing it to her. “Be off my family’s property by five and we’ll pretend this never happened.”
Before he’d even finished speaking, she started shaking her head. “This—” she waved the envelope “—states I’m employed for the next six weeks.”
He tapped his fist against the side of his thigh. She’d never been stubborn before. Had always compromised. Or, in most cases, gave in.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“I want those six weeks.”
“Why?”
She frowned. “I told you, I—”
“I know. You want this job. But why here? Surely there are other opportunities out there far away from Jewell.”
“The first wedding here will be your mother’s.”
“My mother’s wedding isn’t until July.”
Yvonne shook her head. “Diane said she and the senator were moving the date up to April 9.”
And the surprises just kept piling up. He hated surprises.
“You’re going to be in charge of planning my mom’s wedding? Of course you are,” he said before she could respond. “What wedding planner wouldn’t want to be in charge of possibly the most talked about event of the year so far? After all, Al’s a beloved ex-politician. A wealthy ex-politician with powerful connections. And if the wedding is deemed a success, well, then who gets the credit?” He watched her carefully. “You do.”
Two spots of color appeared high on Yvonne’s cheeks. “It’s not about taking credit.”
“No. It’s about you using my mom’s wedding as a way to help your career. Sorry, Princess, but I’m not about to let that happen.”
At the use of his old nickname for her, she blanched. “You don’t have a say. I went into this contract with Diane, and unless she terminates it, I’m staying.”
You don’t have a say.
Just as he hadn’t had a say about the end of their marriage. Resentment churned in his stomach. But he didn’t give in to it. He walked away. Because no one made Aidan Sheppard lose control. Especially not Yvonne Delisle.

CHAPTER TWO
“WERE YOU GOING TO TELL me?” Aidan asked as he entered his mother’s spacious kitchen. “Or was I suppose to find out myself?”
Pouring coffee into a mug, Diane Sheppard glanced at her son. Even when he planned on working out in the vineyards all day, he looked as if he’d stepped out of some sort of catalog. He had on loose cargos and a plaid denim work shirt open over a waffle knit Henley. His short hair was neatly combed, the golden strands dark and damp from a recent shower.
As usual, Aidan had arrived at the break of day for a run around the vineyard before returning to shower and dress in the bathroom adjoining his office upstairs. All before she’d even had her cup of coffee.
Her eldest loved nothing more than his routine, his schedules and his family.
It was up to her to help him see there was more to life than the first two. That he didn’t have to sacrifice so much for the third.
“I’m afraid I can’t answer that, as I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Although she could guess.
Diane sighed. This conversation was not going to be easy.
She tightened the sash of the new knee-length, velour robe she wore over her pajamas. Then again, no one ever said doing the right thing was easy.
“Coffee?” she asked.
Not waiting for an answer, she poured him a cup.
He accepted it without taking his eyes off her. “I’m talking about you hiring my ex-wife to work at the Diamond Dust.”
He watched her steadily, his eyes a cross between her own blue ones and the green of his father’s. But under his careful detachment, she sensed his agitation. His anger.
Her sons. Though they tried, they couldn’t hide anything from their mother.
“I was going to tell you,” she said, adding cream to her coffee before crossing to the large, granite-topped island to sit on one of the high-backed stools, “when I deemed the time right.”
His jaw worked—throwing away all the money she’d invested in his orthodontic care as a teen by grinding his teeth to dust. “I’d say the right time is now. Seeing as how I discovered Yvonne picking through Dad’s stuff at the carriage house while I was on my run.”
“Oh?” Diane sipped her coffee to hide her surprise. “I wasn’t expecting her until this afternoon.”
She’d last spoken to her the night before, when Yvonne had called to let Diane know she’d received the signed contract and the keys to both the cottage and the carriage house. Diane had half thought Yvonne wouldn’t show up at all. Returning to Jewell couldn’t be easy for the younger woman. Not after how things ended between her and Aidan. How she’d ended things between them.
And though Diane had nothing against her ex-daughter-in-law, Yvonne had never struck her as being brave enough, strong enough or self-sufficient enough to tackle the difficult things in life head-on.
Lord knew, Aidan could be all sorts of difficult.
But she’d hoped the promise of a new contract would bring her back. Good to know she’d been right. Again.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Aidan asked.
She narrowed her eyes. But since his reaction—and his insolent tone—were quite understandable, she took another drink instead of calling him on it. “I was thinking that she’d be the best person to plan my wedding.”
“Your wedding. Right,” he said. “Would this be the wedding you’ve moved up by three months without telling your family?”
“I—”
He held up a hand. “Wait. Let me guess. You were going to tell us. When you deemed the time right.”
“I was going to tell you,” she said frostily, “at lunch tomorrow. After a few more details had been nailed down.”
“Why move it up at all?”
“Yvonne’s already booked for the summer and this was the only time her company was willing to spare her for a few months.” What she didn’t mention was the exorbitant fee she’d agreed to in order to get World Class Weddings to let their most popular planner leave for six weeks. “Al and I moved the date up so she could take the job.” She smiled brightly, as if Aidan wasn’t trying to skewer her with his glare. “From all accounts, she’s one of the best wedding planners in the South.”
Her stubborn son seemed less than impressed. “And since you hired her to plan your wedding, you decided to throw in a job at the winery as a bonus?”
“I decided that we could use someone with her skills and connections to help get our events business off the ground.”
“Get off the ground? We decided only three days ago to start hosting events. I thought we’d do a little research. See if this idea is even feasible before committing to it.”
“We’re already committed. You and your brothers agreed—”
“They agreed. I just went along with the majority vote.”
As if she didn’t realize how much that had bothered him—no longer having sole authority over all decisions made at the winery. Oh, she was still the owner, but for the past eight years, Aidan had run the company with little input from her. Once he and his brothers became full partners in July, when she retired, that would all change.
“It’s a done deal,” she said. “Which was why I wanted to get the ball rolling. I see no sense in putting this off.”
He stared at her as if he could look inside her head and sort through her lies. “You haven’t had more than a passing interest in the company since Dad died. Why get involved now?”
Guilt squeezed the air from her lungs and she stared blindly at the rings on her right hand. The rings her first husband had given her. The rings that, despite being engaged to another man, despite being in love with Al, she hadn’t been able to take off.
What Aidan said was true. So true. When she’d lost Tom, she’d stopped caring about the Diamond Dust. They’d started the winery from the ground up—literally. They’d planted the vines. Nurtured them and helped them grown. They’d renovated the original farmhouse into the gift shop-tasting room with their own hammers and nails, had come up with a business plan, taught themselves how to run a successful winery.
But without her husband by her side, she hadn’t wanted anything to do with the business they’d built together. So she’d turned to Aidan, who’d given up his own ambitions to keep his father’s dreams alive.
And she’d let him.
“Though I may have taken a…backseat at the winery these past few years,” she said, wrapping her fingers around the base of her mug. “I’m always interested in what’s going on with my company.”
“Funny how your interest just happens to involve my ex-wife.”
“We need her. Connie doesn’t know how to get the winery ready, so I hired Yvonne as a consultant.”
Their vineyard manager, Connie Henkel, had been a valuable employee ever since she’d started working there sixteen years ago. But now that Diane’s youngest son Matt—a noted vintner who’d worked at some of the best wineries in the world—had agreed to join the winery a few weeks ago, Connie had been forced to share her duties with him.
“There’s no way Connie can tackle this job on her own,” Diane continued. “Besides, with her helping Matt manage the vineyards, her time is limited.”
“There’s no need for her to help Matt,” Aidan said as he refreshed his coffee. “He’s more than capable of running things on his own.”
“Keeping Connie from those vineyards is like trying to stop the rain from falling. She loves them.”
“Then I guess you should’ve thought of that before you blackmailed Matt into joining the company.”
“I did,” she said, regret making her voice sharp.
Of course she’d thought of Connie. She’d worried that her decision would push the woman she loved like a daughter out of her life, but in the end, she couldn’t come up with any other way to guarantee all three of her sons returned to the Diamond Dust.
And then two days ago Aidan had offered Connie the job of events coordinator. Eventually, she would learn how to be the best events coordinator ever, Diane was certain of that, and it would ensure she’d always have a place at the winery. To everyone’s shock, she’d not only declined the offer, but had quit her job at the Diamond Dust.
Fortunately, Matt had been able to convince her to stay. And to give him a chance to be in her and her two young daughters’ lives.
Which was wonderful, especially considering that Diane suspected Matt had been the real reason Connie had quit in the first place.
But that didn’t change the fact that their events coordinator knew more about grapes than caterers.
Diane stood and crossed to the sink to rinse out her cup before putting it in the dishwasher, her movements jerky. Aidan was angry. She understood that, accepted it. Just as she’d accept the consequences of her actions, of the mistakes she’d made. One of those being that if things didn’t work out the way she wanted them to, he might never forgive her.
She shut the dishwasher door with more force than necessary. That was a chance she was willing to take, alienating her son. Alienating another son, since Matt still hadn’t fully forgiven her for forcing him to be a part of the business.
“As much as you may not like it,” she said, “Yvonne is the best person for this temporary job. I wouldn’t have hired her if I didn’t truly believe that.”
“She showed me her contract, the agreement you made with her on behalf of the Diamond Dust.” He set his still full cup on the counter and crossed his arms. “I want you to break it.”
Drying her hands on a tea towel, Diane slowly faced him. “I can’t do that.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Both. I’ve never gone back on my word and I certainly don’t plan to start now. Besides, that contract isn’t only between me and Yvonne, it’s between the Diamond Dust and World Class Weddings, and the last thing we need is another breach of contract lawsuit.”
“We wouldn’t have to deal with any lawsuits if you hadn’t forced Matt to break his contract with Queen’s Valley. Nice that you never have to go back on your word, but you have no problem asking your sons to.”
Okay, she deserved that. Queens’ Valley being the vineyard in South Australia where Matt had been working until three weeks ago. And a lawsuit was a small price to pay for her getting what she wanted.
She laid a hand on his arm. It was a testament to his love and respect for her that he didn’t pull away. “I realize this isn’t an ideal situation, but it’s only temporary. Surely you can put aside your own personal feelings and do what’s best for the Diamond Dust?”
Under her fingers, the muscles in his arm tensed. “Don’t I always?”
Yes. Yes, he did. And that was the problem. His rigid sense of responsibility and loyalty to his family and the winery had cost him his marriage. Now she would use those same traits to push him and Yvonne back together. The rest was up to them.
“Everything will work out,” she promised, patting his arm. “You’ll see.”
He paced to the table, muttered under his breath, then whirled back to her. “You’re playing matchmaker.”
Since there was no use in denying it, she shrugged. “You and Yvonne were meant to be together.”
“We were married,” he snapped. “It ended. It wasn’t some great tragic love story. It was a mistake. One I’ve been over for a long time now.”
“If I believed that, I wouldn’t have done this.”
He nodded once, his mouth a thin, angry line. “When you pulled that stunt with Matt, threatening to sell the business unless he agreed to go into a partnership with us, I thought it was a shitty thing to do—”
“Yes, as I recall, you made your feelings about my decision quite clear.”
“Even though I didn’t agree with you, I stood by you. But there’s no way I’m going to let you control my life. Not like you did to Matt. And just for the record, I don’t like being manipulated.”
“Of course not, dear,” Diane said, somehow finding the courage to meet his gaze. “No one does.”
He stormed out the French doors to the backyard. But unlike Matt, who would’ve slammed the door shut, Aidan barely made a sound when he left.
He’d always been that way, Diane thought as she wet a dishcloth and wrung the excess water from it, her hands shaking. Even as a child Aidan had been in control of his emotions. Couldn’t he see she wasn’t trying to hurt him?
Slapping the cloth down, she scrubbed the already shining counter. She’d seen how crushed he’d been when his marriage fell apart. He’d never gotten over that failure or the woman he’d loved.
Now he could correct his mistakes, give Yvonne a chance to correct hers, as well. And yes, maybe they’d even find love again thanks to what Aidan saw as Diane’s meddling.
She’d brought Matt back, reminded him what it was like to be a part of his family after spending so many years on his own. To be accepted and wanted and welcomed by them. To be a part of his heritage.
It’d been easier with Brady. Her middle son had been so lost. Hurting too much, drinking to numb the pain. Wrapped up in his isolation. She’d given him the choice of either accepting help or moving off the Diamond Dust. Though she wasn’t foolish or arrogant enough to believe her ultimatum had been the impetus Brady needed to turn his life around, she’d take her victories wherever she could get them.
Life was too short not to.

“HELLO, MS. DELISLE,” a woman said in a voice heavily laced with the deep South, when Yvonne answered her cell phone that afternoon. “Your father would like to speak with you. Please hold.” Must be her dad’s new assistant.
There was a soft click, then classical music floated through the speaker—Mendelssohn’s “Spring Song,” if she wasn’t mistaken. Yvonne tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear and picked up two of her suitcases. She carried them down a short hallway, past the tiny kitchen where she’d dumped her work binders, folders, inspiration boards and laptop on the table, to the bedroom at the back of the cottage.
Her temporary home sat deep in the woods, a good mile from the Sheppards’ main house. It was small and sparsely furnished, but she didn’t need much. As long as it had a bed, a closet, a shower and a TV with working cable, she’d be fine.
In the bedroom, she hefted the bags onto the double bed. She was staying whether Aidan liked it or not. Though she’d been tempted to give in to his demands, she hadn’t. Hadn’t given up her own wants to please him.
Not like she used to.
Her movements brisk, she flipped the lid of the larger case open. And he’d been so…shocked. As if the idea of her having the brains—or the backbone—to stand up for herself had never occurred to him.
Arrogant, stubborn man.
After another click on the phone, she heard her father’s deep, commanding voice. “Yvonne. Hello.”
“Hello, Daddy.” She picked up a pile of neatly folded underwear and carried it to the tall dresser next to the window. She could easily picture her father, the chairman of Delisle Enterprises, sitting behind his antique desk, the sun shining through the large window of his high-rise office. He’d be in one of his dark designer suits, the Windsor knot of his tie perfect, his light hair flecked with gray. “How are you?”
“I’d be better if I didn’t have to listen to your mother complain that she hasn’t heard from you in three days.”
Of course. Yvonne should’ve known that Elaine Winston Delisle’s next move would be to have her husband step in.
Yvonne put the underwear in the top drawer, then went back for more. “I’ll be sure to call her today.”
“See that you do. You know how she worries.”
Yes, her mother certainly did that. But he did his fair share, as well. An only child, Yvonne bore the brunt of those worries, the bulk of their love and the weight of their expectations.
And though she loved them, could she really be blamed for escaping to Charleston after her divorce? Oh, she’d tried returning to Savannah, tried to go back to playing the part of dutiful daughter, had even become engaged to the man they’d handpicked for her. Until she’d realized that what she needed even more than her parents’ approval was some freedom so she could finally just be herself.
“Now that I’ve delivered your mother’s message,” he continued, “how’s my favorite girl?”
Not even the warmth and concerned note in her father’s voice could shove Aidan’s words from her head.
Daddy’s little princess.
“I’m fine,” she said, more sharply than necessary. She pressed her lips together. When she spoke again, her tone was carefully modulated. “Everything’s fine, Daddy. Really.”
And damn Aidan for making her feel as if she should be ashamed of her upbringing.
“I still think taking that job at that winery is a mistake,” her father said.
“I appreciate your concern, I really do, but it’s too late for objections.” She dropped her bras onto the dresser. “I’m already here.” And since she could practically hear his disapproval humming over the phone line, she added, “Besides, Joelle asked me to take on this assignment.” Of course, Yvonne had been more than thrilled to accept when Joelle, the owner of World Class Weddings, had told her Diane had asked for her specifically. “And I signed a contract. You wouldn’t want me to break it, would you?”
“When I taught you the importance of keeping your word, I didn’t mean at the expense of your pride.”
She smiled. “I still have my pride. This is just business.” It wasn’t as if she was crawling back to Aidan, begging him to give her a second chance. She was there on her terms.
“I hope you’re right,” Richard groused. “But promise me you’ll be careful. And that this business will remain just business.”
“I promise.” An easy enough pledge to make, considering the way Aidan had looked at her earlier. The only personal feelings that man had for her were contempt and anger. A lump formed in her throat and she cleared it away. “Try not to worry.”
“Of course I worry. You’re my little girl.”
With a small eye roll, she set a white bra in the drawer, followed by a beige one. His “little girl” was a thirty-one-year-old divorcée with a thriving career and, she realized with a frown, an extensive collection of beige bras.
“I’m capable of taking care of myself,” she said as kindly as she could.
“I know that. You’re a Delisle, aren’t you? I just don’t want to see that bastard hurt you again.”
She’d been the one to walk away from her marriage, but her father insisted on blaming Aidan for their divorce. Her mother, on the other hand, believed Yvonne had been a fool to leave a handsome, successful, intelligent man who’d done his best to take care of her.
Yvonne had learned early on it was futile to argue with either of them.
Besides, she couldn’t honestly say either one was completely wrong.
“No one’s going to get hurt.” Least of all her. Not again. “I’m so sorry, Daddy, but I have a meeting to get to. I’ll call Mother later today, okay? Bye, now. Love you.”
She shut off her phone before he could respond.
Not exactly the mature, responsible or brave way of handling a difficult conversation, but an effective one nonetheless. For the time being, anyway.
And she wasn’t lying, exactly, about her meeting. She just hadn’t mentioned it wasn’t for another half hour, that’s all.
She lined up her bras in a neat row and shut the drawer. Someone knocked on the front door. Even as she stilled, her hand on the drawer handle, her pulse picked up. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Then again, why would she be? Only one person knew she was here already.
She leaped for her purse on the bed, digging through it as she hurried into the bathroom. She touched up her lipstick, rubbed her lips together in lieu of blotting with a tissue, then ran her fingers through her hair before rushing down the hall and into the foyer.
More knocks—these rapid and impatient sounding.
“Coming,” she called, slipping her right foot back into one of the black pumps she’d toed off after she’d brought the last of her luggage inside. With one hand on the wall for balance, she put on the left shoe. “Just a moment.”
She straightened and swept back her hair. Inhaled a calming breath and opened the door.
Only to find it wasn’t Aidan on the other side.
“Diane,” she said, refusing to believe the unsettled feeling in her stomach was disappointment. “Hello.”
Diane Sheppard held a recyclable grocery bag in each hand, her smile small and polite. Detached. The same smile Yvonne often used when faced with an acquaintance she didn’t know very well. One she didn’t particularly care to know better.
“I thought I’d drop by,” Diane was saying. “Save you the trouble of coming over to the house and…” She lifted the bags. “I wasn’t sure when you’d have a chance to get into town so I picked up some groceries.”
Yvonne’s mouth popped open. “Oh. That was very…”
The other woman stepped forward, leaving her no choice but to move out her way.
“Thoughtful,” she finished lamely as Diane entered the house and headed straight for the kitchen.
Yvonne glanced from Diane’s retreating back to the porch and back again.
What just happened?
“Are you getting settled in all right?” Diane called from the other room.
The other room where Yvonne had piled boxes and papers and folders and files on the kitchen table to get them out of the way. Horrified, she quickly shut the door and a moment later found Diane unloading groceries onto the counter.
“Uh…yeah.” Yvonne winced and cleared her throat as she tried to straighten up the mess on the table. “I mean, yes. Thank you so much for asking.”
Heat crawled up her neck. So much for her hope that after seven years she’d be more at ease around her daunting mother-in-law.
Ex. Ex-mother-in-law.
They had no ties. Not anymore. Had really had none even when they’d been related. Diane had always been pleasant to her, but their relationship had been merely…cordial. Their only common ground had been their mutual love for Aidan. Now, facing Diane, Yvonne had no idea what to do next. Offer her hand? Too formal. A hug? Oh, God, that was inconceivable.
“Good.” Diane handed her a small bunch of green bananas. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call,” she said, somehow making what from anyone else would be a request sound like an order.
Yvonne stared down at the fruit. What was she supposed to do with it? She didn’t even like bananas. “I will,” she answered calmly, when what she really wanted to do was shove Diane out the door so she could compose herself. Tidy up the cottage. Realign her thoughts to accommodate the fact that her schedule, her plan for the afternoon, had been changed. “And thank you for the groceries. I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble, though.”
“No trouble at all.” Diane set a box of shredded wheat cereal in an upper cabinet. “I was at the store and tossed a few essentials in for you. And since I baked yesterday, I brought some cookies as well.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Chocolate chip.”
Aidan’s favorite.
“How…nice,” Yvonne managed to say lightly. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy them.”
And maybe as she ate them, she could remember how she’d gotten Diane’s recipe and made a batch herself. Because Aidan had asked her to. Her first—and last—attempt at baking had ended with smoke billowing from the oven, a visit from the local fire department and her feeling like a complete failure.
“Aidan mentioned you were at the carriage house this morning,” Diane said, opening the refrigerator door and putting away the milk and butter.
“I got in early and thought I’d check out the building.” She scraped off the sticker on the bananas and rolled it into a tube. “He seemed quite surprised to hear I’d been hired.”
“Hmm…yes…well, that’s probably because I hadn’t told him yet.”
Yvonne set the bananas on the only bare corner of the table. “He doesn’t want me here.”
“No. He certainly doesn’t.” Diane stacked one bag on top of the other and then folded them. “But I do.”
Ducking her head, Yvonne examined the bananas closer. “I appreciate your belief in my abilities. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure your wedding is perfect.”
“Oh, I have no doubt. Which is why I’m confident everything will turn out as I’d planned.”
Why Diane’s expression was just this side of sly, Yvonne had no idea. Wasn’t sure she wanted to know. It was enough that Diane had asked her here. She finally had the chance to make a real connection with a woman she’d always respected, but who’d never accepted her.
“That’s why I’m here,” she said with her most professional smile. “To make sure you get everything you want for your business and your wedding.”
“What I want is for my wedding to be the first official event held at the Diamond Dust—a sort of kickoff to our venture into hosting. Al and I have both been married before, so we don’t need all the pomp and circumstance this time around. We want a small, intimate gathering with our families and closest friends. And we want it to showcase the best of the winery so people can see what to expect if they hold their own special events here.”
Right. Could she pull this off?
Yvonne’s smile felt stiff and cold. Or maybe the panic squeezing her throat was cutting off the blood supply to her face. “No problem.”
Diane nodded. “I know this is short notice, so I’m sure you’re anxious to get started. Why don’t you stop by the house tomorrow for lunch? I’ll have a finalized guest list for you by then.”
“That’ll be fine,” she said, calculating in her head how much time she had to get the invitations ordered and sent. Not enough. Not nearly enough. She moved aside the scrapbook she’d made showcasing some of her most successful weddings, so she could pick up the large binder underneath. “I have some invitation samples here,” she said, laying the open binder on the counter. “Once you find a design you like, we can customize the colors and—”
“Whatever you pick will be fine.”
In the act of flipping to a design she thought Diane would like, Yvonne froze. “Excuse me?”
“Naturally Al and I will let you know the wording we’d like to use, but the design, the colors…” the older woman waved her hand. “Those are up to you.”
“You want me to choose your wedding invitations?” she asked incredulously.
This time Diane’s smile was warm, her eyes lit with humor. “Isn’t that what wedding planners do?”
“I help people make choices about flowers and color schemes and menus and music,” Yvonne said slowly. “Everything that enables them to have their dream wedding. Those choices are based on the client’s preferences and their budget.”
Diane crossed her arms over her ample chest and studied Yvonne over her glasses. “My preference is that you plan my wedding—all aspects of it, except for my dress, which I’ve already picked out.”
“But…but what about your attendants’ dresses? Tuxes for the men? Favors and—”
“Al and I are having our children stand up for us. It would probably be best if you let Marsha, Al’s daughter, pick her own dress based on the color scheme you choose, but the boys can wear suits. As for favors…” Diane grimaced, as if a token gift of appreciation was on par with finding someone else’s hair in your dinner. “I’ve never been big on that sort of thing. Let’s just skip that part?”
Yvonne realized she was staring at her with her mouth open. She snapped her lips together. This was crazy. She’d had carefree, laid-back brides before, but nothing like this.
“I’m not sure I feel comfortable taking over that way.” She was excellent at making a client’s dreams come true.
How could she do that for Diane if they didn’t work together?
“Why don’t you put together your ideas and I’ll approve them.”
“I don’t—”
“I’d really like your help with all this.”
And that was the whole reason she was here. Diane needed her. “All right,” Yvonne said. The decision seemed somehow life-altering. Then again, maybe all stupid decisions seemed that way at first. “I’ll have a few sample invitations ready for you to look at during lunch tomorrow. Maybe we can also discuss some ideas I have for advertising events at the winery.”
She’d spent the entire five and a half hour drive from Charleston brainstorming ways to promote the new venture. She wanted to be prepared, to do a good job. Plus it’d kept her from thinking about what a possibly colossal mistake coming back here was.
“I’m not really involved in all that,” Diane said as she headed toward the door.
Frowning, Yvonne followed her. “You’re not?”
“No. You’ll have to discuss any changes or ideas with Aidan.”
Yvonne curled her fingers into her palms. “But you hired me.” She’d thought she’d be working with Diane. Yes, she’d realized she’d have to be around Aidan, but for the chance to finally be accepted at the Diamond Dust by Diane, she’d been willing to risk it.
“Your contract is with the winery, which Aidan runs. For the next few months, anyway.” Yvonne must’ve looked as horrified as she felt, because Diane’s expression softened. “Don’t worry. He’ll treat you fairly.”
“How can you be sure?”
She shrugged, then opened the door. “Because you’re what’s best for the company. Aidan always does what’s best for the Diamond Dust.”

CHAPTER THREE
THOUGH THE DOOR to Aidan’s office was open in welcome, Yvonne couldn’t force her feet forward. One thing was for certain, that welcome wasn’t meant for her.
She squeezed her eyes shut, hard. When she opened them again, spots danced in her vision. Those spots, she reminded herself, were like her memories. Real enough, yes. But quick to fade.
Elongating her spine as she’d been taught during her years on the pageant circuit, she raised her hand to tap on the door frame, then caught sight of Aidan staring out the window.
She slowly lowered her arm. The sunlight picked up the golden threads in his hair, and though his hands were in his pockets, one hip leaning against the windowsill, there was still an…edge to him. A hardness he couldn’t hide even when he thought he was all alone. The same hardness she’d detected in him earlier.
She was afraid she was the cause of it.
As if sensing her presence, he stiffened and turned, catching her staring at him like a lovesick newlywed. It was as if she was transported back to when her entire world had revolved around him. When all she’d cared about was making him happy, and her greatest fear had been of not being the woman he wanted her to be.
She bit the inside of her cheek.
“Do you have a minute?” she asked, when it was obvious he wasn’t going to invite her in.
He wanted to say no. She could see that clearly in the set of his jaw. The coolness in his eyes. Instead, he inclined his head. An affirmation? In condescension? She wasn’t sure.
She stepped into the room. He didn’t move, but looked her over from the top of her freshly heat-ironed hair to the ruffle on her blouse and the edge of her skirt at her knees. Her scalp prickled.
And when something cold and wet nudged her hand, she about jumped right out of her Jimmy Choos and hit the ceiling.
Her heart in her throat, she glanced down at a large dog with brown eyes and shiny, rust-colored fur. She lifted her hand to her mouth, biting gently on the knuckle of her forefinger—something she hadn’t done since she was ten and had finally given in to her mother’s constant nagging and broken the bad habit. She dropped her hand. The dog barked and Yvonne recoiled.
“She won’t hurt you.”
Unwilling to take her eyes off the dog—or those teeth—for more than a second, Yvonne didn’t so much as glance at Aidan. “No. I…I’m sure she won’t.”
Except that for every hesitant step back Yvonne took, the dog took one forward.
“Lily,” Aidan said in his deep voice. “Come here.”
The dog—Lily—sniffed at the laptop Yvonne gripped in her hand. Sweat broke out along her hairline. She hoped Aidan couldn’t hear the wild thumping of her heart.
Aidan, however, with his watchful eyes and quick mind, never missed anything.
He snapped his fingers. “Lily. Now.”
After one more sniff, the dog padded over to him. He patted her head—as a reward for obeying him or because the dog hadn’t ripped Yvonne’s hand off at the wrist, she didn’t know.
Maybe both.
“I…” She swallowed and tried again. “I didn’t know you had a…a dog.”
Unrolling the sleeves of his denim shirt, he raised his eyebrows. “I hadn’t realized I was to keep you abreast of any pets I may or may not have. Or did I miss something in our divorce agreement?”
She blushed furiously. “No. No, of course not. I just… I had no idea you liked—” she glanced at the dog, which seemed to be watching her with more interest than was warranted “—animals.”
“Now you do.”
“Right.” But…what else didn’t she know about him? After all, it’d been almost seven years since she’d seen him last. A lot could happen in that amount of time. A lump formed in her throat. Oh, dear Lord. “Did you…have you remarried?” she asked, looking around the room for signs of a wife.
She cringed. But it was too late to take her question back, much as she would like to.
He paused in the act of buttoning his sleeve. “No.”
She felt light-headed. “Oh. That’s…” What? A relief? A disappointment? She wasn’t sure which one would be the bigger lie. “I was engaged,” she heard herself blurt out, the nails of her free hand digging into her palm. “It didn’t work out.”
Aidan went completely still. For a moment she wondered if he was even breathing. But then he lifted his head and his expression was so dispassionate, goose bumps rose on her arms. “I don’t remember asking.”
No. Of course he hadn’t. Why did she bring it up? She hardly enjoyed discussing her broken engagement or her ex-fiancé—the man her parents had chosen for her once her divorce from Aidan had been final. A man who’d wanted her because of her name.
She needed to stay calm and get her rioting emotions under control before he saw through her facade and took that control away from her.
Yvonne smiled, professional, confident and totally fake. “I was hoping we could go over a few things—if you have time, that is.”
“Actually, I’m in the middle of something.”
Her expression never faltered. “Yes, I could see how busy you were when I came in. But, perhaps when you do get a free minute, we could—”
“My schedule seems to be full for the next few days,” he said, crossing his arms. “Sorry.”
She set her free hand on her hip. “Diane said you were running the winery. That I had to speak to you about any ideas regarding hosting events.”
“That’s right.”
“So when, exactly,” she said through barely moving lips, “can this conversation take place?”
He crossed to his massive mahogany desk and flipped a page of his appointment book. “I can give you thirty minutes Monday morning at eight.”
“But that’s—” she did a quick calculation. “—five days from now.”
“Look at that. All those accounting classes did pay off.”
“I have only six weeks to get your mother’s wedding planned,” she said in carefully modulated tones. “I can’t wait until Monday.”
“It’s the best I can do.”
Had she forgotten how stubborn he was? “In that case,” she said, all sweetness and light while she clutched her laptop case, “Monday will be fine.”
“Have a list of the topics you want to discuss, along with your ideas, to me by Friday.”
“So you won’t have to spend any more time in my company than necessary?”
He sat on the thronelike leather chair and leaned back. The flat line of his mouth and the way he studied her gave her the answer to her question. “I guess I’ll see you Monday then.”
She blushed. He was dismissing her. Oh, it was polite enough, she supposed, but it still felt as if he’d put a foot to her rear and given her a good shove.
Yvonne turned and even took a step toward the door before facing him again. “Maybe it would help if we got a few things out in the open.”
“Help what?”
“Help ease this…awkwardness.”
Awkwardness she couldn’t stand. That made her want to hide within herself so she wouldn’t do or say anything to make things worse.
Except he didn’t seem to be uncomfortable in the least. His hands were linked together on his flat stomach, his shoulders relaxed. The only sign he wasn’t less than perfectly put together were the slight wrinkles on his sleeves from having rolled them up earlier.
Some things never changed. As always, he was calm, his thoughts neatly hidden, his feelings under wraps. While she fought not to show how frazzled she was, how worried that she’d say the wrong thing.
“Your mother assured me I’ll be treated fairly and without bias while I’m here,” Yvonne said, sounding even to her own ears like the petulant princess Aidan thought she was.
“But you doubt her word?”
“Not at all.” She’d be a fool to doubt what Diane said. Besides, she wanted to believe her job here could go smoothly. “But I’d like to hear it from you.”
He sat up slowly. “Hear what, exactly?”
“That you’ll be fair. That you’re going to give me a chance to do my job.”
She had to force herself not to squirm under his watchful gaze. “I can guarantee that you’ll be treated like any other employee.”
“But I’m not any other employee. I was your wife.”
His eyes narrowed to slits. “Was being the operative word.”
Her heart pounded so hard, she was sure he could see it fluttering the ruffles on her shirt. “Wife being the important one. I want to make sure we can work together.”
“You really don’t know why my mother hired you, do you?”
Though suddenly uneasy, she kept any hint of it out of her tone. “She hired me to plan her wedding. And because the Diamond Dust needs someone to help coordinate events.”
“We only decided to start hosting events Sunday night—and before you start counting, that was three days ago. And, out of all the events coordinators in the South, she hired you. It never occurred to you to wonder why?”
Yvonne brushed a dog hair from her skirt. “She needed someone with experience who was willing to relocate—”
“She hired you,” he said flatly, “because she thinks if we work together, you’ll get back in my life. She hired you because she wants us to get together again.”

PANIC FLARED IN Yvonne’s dark eyes. But she remained steady on those pencil-thin high heels of hers. “I’m sorry,” she said, as if they were discussing whether to have salmon or chicken for dinner, “I don’t under stand.”
His curled fists hidden from view under his desk, Aidan studied her. As if she didn’t have a care in the world, was above everything he said.
If that was true, why did her fingers tremble when she swept her hair off her shoulder?
He wasn’t the only one out of sorts. Good.
“Seeing as how you’re not stupid or hard of hearing,” he said mildly, “you understand perfectly.”
Her mouth turned down. “Diane wants us back together?”
Aidan held her gaze as he straightened in his chair. “Or maybe you already knew that.”
“Excuse me?” she asked, sounding as snobby and cold as her mother had when Aidan and Yvonne went to Savannah and announced their engagement to her parents.
But he’d been so sure Yvonne was different from her mom. That underneath that cool demeanor was a real, live woman. And all he had to do was help warm her up.
“Have you missed me, Yvonne? Are you looking for a reconciliation?”
She didn’t blush or appear guilty. She just looked…scared. As if the idea of getting back together with him was worse than having her fingernails ripped off. His mouth twisted. Right. Because living with him had been such pure hell. It’d been so bad she’d walked off without so much as giving him a chance to convince her to stay.
“I assure you,” she said, no longer sounding in control, “I had no idea. I…” She pressed her lips together. “I thought Diane hired me because I’m a good wedding planner.”
She seemed sincere. Hell, he probably would have believed her if he hadn’t already learned not to trust anything she said.
I love you. Till death do us part, she’d vowed at their wedding.
She could claim the earth was round and he’d want a second opinion.
He picked up his mechanical pencil and tapped it against the top of his desk, causing Lily to raise her head. “Now that you’re aware of Mom’s real agenda, I’m sure you’ll agree that backing out of your contract is the only option.”
Yvonne frowned and shifted, the movement causing her breasts to sway slightly under the ruffle of her top, drawing his attention to the way that damn skirt hugged her hips. In stark black and white, the severe lines of the skirt contrasting with the soft femininity of her top, highlighted her sexy elegance. As if nothing and no one could touch her.
Good thing he didn’t want to try.
“I can’t do that,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry. I truly am, and I realize this situation is…uncomfortable…for both of us, but I’m staying.”
“Did you get fired?”
Her lips twitched. “No, I’m gainfully employed.”
“Then there’s no reason you can’t return to Charleston.”
“None at all. And I will when I’ve met my obligation here. Until then, can’t we figure out a way to make this work?” She began to lift her laptop case. “If we could get past—”
She broke off when Lily, excited that the new person in the room was moving, got up and walked over to sniff at Yvonne’s backside. Yvonne froze, her face white.
Damn it. He didn’t want to see her afraid. Didn’t like the tug of sympathy that caused in him. How it made him feel…protective of her.
“Lily, sit,” he ordered, more gruffly than necessary.
Lily lowered her head and crept back to her spot by the window. He rubbed the nape of his neck. Great. Now he was taking his irritation out on his dog.
“Since you insist on sticking around,” he said tightly, “you’ll have to get used to Lily. She has free run of the Diamond Dust. And I’m not about to keep her locked up because you don’t like animals.”
“No. Of course not. I would never ask you to keep it…her…” Yvonne paused long enough to take a deep breath and regain her composure. “I’m sorry. I…I don’t have much experience with animals…with pets. Mother never allowed them.”
No doubt Elaine Delisle thought pets were too messy. “Luckily, my family doesn’t share your mother’s opinion. There have always been dogs at the vineyard.”
“There weren’t any…”
Before. When they’d first moved to Jewell after his father became sick. When they were still married. Before she’d walked out on their marriage.
“Mom hadn’t wanted to get another dog after their last one died.” He tossed his pencil aside and got to his feet, unable to remain seated. “Too painful.”
Yvonne nodded as if she completely understood, playing the part of concerned, sympathetic ex for all she was worth. She was excellent at all her roles, whatever they may be. Obedient daughter. Beauty queen.
Aidan had thought he’d known her better than anyone else ever would. Ever could. Until she’d left and he’d realized he hadn’t known her at all.
She cleared her throat, glancing at Lily with clear trepidation. “As you can see, I’m a bit…nervous around dogs.”
Not his problem. It wasn’t up to him to make her feel safe. Happy.
But as much as he didn’t want her here, he couldn’t let her think that every time she stepped outside her door, she was risking being torn apart by his good-natured dog. He wasn’t that big of an ass. No matter what his brothers said about him.
He snapped his fingers and Lily padded over and sat next to his leg. “Lily’s a good dog. Sweet as they come and well-trained—”
“I didn’t mean to imply—”
“I know,” he said, “that you didn’t mean to imply I didn’t train my dog. I’m saying that she won’t hurt you. You have my word on that.”
Yvonne smiled, relieved. She trusted him.
It nearly undid him.
He scowled and her smile faded. She switched the laptop case to her other hand. “I appreciate that. Especially as I know you’re a man who always keeps his word.”
“Funny thing about that…once I make a promise, I keep it.” He searched her face, her beautiful, treacherous face.
Her flinch was slight, but noticeable, letting him know his dig had hit home. He didn’t find much satisfaction in it.
Then she tipped her head. “Not everyone has your conviction, or your sense of responsibility and right and wrong,” she said, so sweetly, he didn’t believe she meant a word of it. “And sometimes, keeping a promise means giving up something a person isn’t willing to lose.”
He narrowed his eyes. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was she talking about their marriage, as he had been, and her choice to break her vows? He concentrated on keeping his breathing slow and even, pretended his chest wasn’t tight, his muscles not tensed.
He’d never asked her to give up anything for him—except living in Savannah. But she’d been all for moving to Jewell to help his parents during his father’s illness. She’d even suggested they buy a house, to make the move more permanent. She’d wanted their own place, she’d told him. Their own home. A place where they belonged.
“Guess that’s what they call making a sacrifice,” he said. And he didn’t plan on sacrificing his peace of mind for the next two months, or fall blindly in line with his mother’s plans. “You came in here to get some sort of guarantee I’d treat you fairly. Let me just say that during your stint here, I’ll treat you cordially and with the respect you deserve.” There was nothing in his tone that suggested that amount of respect would be little to none. “And that’s a promise.”
One he could make without any worries about risking his pride. Or his heart. He never made the same mistake twice.
He sat back down and put on his reading glasses with one hand, while picking up a random piece of paper with the other. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do before I can go home, and I’d like to get back to it.”
He pretended to study the paper—an invoice Matt had given him earlier for the cost of new plantings. She didn’t call him on how she’d walked in on him doing nothing more than staring out the window, but she also didn’t leave. He turned to his computer and moved the mouse to wake it from sleep mode.
After a few moments, she finally turned and walked away.
Thank God.

YVONNE DESCENDED THE last step into the foyer, her jaw so tight it ached.
Bastard.
But she couldn’t let him see how furious he made her. Or worse, how much his obvious dislike for her hurt.
Here she was, back in a place where she’d never felt she truly belonged, surrounded by people she’d suspected never really wanted her here.
Not much had changed, it seemed.
She’d been… God, she’d been so…so arrogant. Had seriously thought that Diane needed her. Had imagined how she’d sweep in with her schedules and grand plans and experience and organize their efforts. That Diane’s wedding would be the talk of the South, and the Diamond Dust would be set up as the premier place to hold events in Southern Virginia. Maybe in the entire state.
All thanks to Yvonne.
Showing them all she was more than just the spoiled rich girl Aidan had brought home. The one who’d never fit in.
But Diane didn’t need her. She was using her because of her past with Aidan.
At least that was a new one. Usually people wanted her in their lives because of her name, her wealth, her connections or her looks.
No one ever wanted her for herself.
She was halfway to the front door when someone rounded the corner behind her at the back of the house.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
As with Aidan earlier that day, this voice was familiar to her. Except it belonged to a woman. One she would’ve been happy to have gone her entire stay in Jewell without ever laying eyes on.
No such luck.
Pasting on a fake, toothy smile, the one she’d used to perfection during her pageant days, she faced Connie Henkel. “That’s the second time I’ve been greeted with those same words,” she said, intensifying her accent. She knew the drawl would irritate the other woman no end. “Does everyone here have something against a simple hello? Or maybe y’all just lack manners?”
She immediately regretted her snide comment when Connie’s eyes narrowed, giving her the look of a sleek cat. A dangerous one. And, Yvonne had to admit with an inner sigh, a sexy, confident one in her tight jeans and snug T-shirt the color of a ripe plum. The collar of her own formal blouse suddenly choked her.
Connie had always made her feel as snobbish and uptight as her mother. Like Diane, the other woman intimidated her, pure and simple. She’d fit here, with the Sheppards.
A tall, broad-shouldered man came up behind Connie and the woman whirled around to demand, “What the hell is she doing here?”
He looked over her head at Yvonne, his eyes widening. “Don’t blame me. I had nothing to do with it. But if she sticks around, it’d knock Aidan on his ass.” He smiled at Yvonne. “Please tell me you plan on sticking around.”
It was that grin that helped her realize why he looked so familiar. “Matt?” she asked, taking in the changes seven years had made in the youngest Sheppard’s appearance. Gone was the gangly, baby-faced charmer. Now Matt’s face was leaner, his cheeks and chin covered in dark blond stubble, his long, wheat-colored hair held back in a ponytail.
“One and only,” he assured her with a wink.
Connie sent him a scathing glare. “Really? You’re flirting now? With her?”
He slung a companionable arm around Connie’s shoulders. “Now, sugar, you know you’re the only woman I flirt with,” he said, and though his tone was teasing, the heat in his eyes when he looked at Connie said there was more going on between these two than friendship. A lot sure had changed around here. “I’m being friendly. After all, Yvonne used to be family.”
“Used to be,” Connie muttered, crossing her arms as yet another man came around the corner from what Yvonne remembered was a large family room-kitchen area.
He was a few inches shorter than Matt, his hair lighter and cropped close to his head, his eyes blue to his younger brother’s green. But the shape of his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw and the confidence in his posture gave him away as a Sheppard.
“Hello, Brady,” she said. “So nice to see you.”
He blinked—the only sign he gave of being surprised to find her in his mother’s foyer. “Yvonne.”
“Please tell me you just happened to be passing through town.” Connie stepped toward Yvonne, brushing off Matt’s arm. “And that you’re now on your way back to…wherever it is you took off to before.”
She looked so hopeful—almost as hopeful as Yvonne had felt about her six weeks here. Before she’d found out Diane was only using her.
“Oh, Connie, I’m sorry to have to disappoint you…” She was even sorrier to face that same disappointment herself. “But I’ve accepted a position here for the next two months. And may I just say,” she added, keeping all trace of sarcasm out of her voice, “how much I’m…looking forward to working with you all.”
She ended her performance with a soft smile, her expression composed, her grip on her laptop relaxed.
Brady and Matt exchanged a quick, loaded look, while Connie’s mouth worked but no words came out. Then she took off up the stairs, her long legs taking the steps two at a time. “Aidan!”
“Well,” Yvonne said brightly to the two men staring at her, “I should get going as well. It was lovely to see you both.”

CHAPTER FOUR
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Connie paced between Aidan’s desk and the matching leather chairs where Brady and Matt sat. He’d asked them all to his office at the end of the workday so he could explain about Diane hiring Yvonne and moving up her wedding date. He’d been as quick and concise as possible, leaving out only a few minor details. Such as how seeing Yvonne again had tied him in knots.
“I don’t trust her,” Connie said, her strides not slowing in the least. “She’ll stab us in the back. You wait and see.”
Aidan rubbed at the headache brewing behind his temples, and leaned back in his chair. “How would she do that? Sabotage Mom and Al’s wedding?”
“I don’t know.” Connie tossed her hands in the air, her slim body vibrating with rage. “She could…order the wrong flowers. Or…or mess up the cake on purpose.”
“I hate to say it,” Matt interjected lazily, “but you’re sounding a bit paranoid.”
“He’s right.” Aidan held up a conciliatory hand when she looked ready to leap down Matt’s throat and rip his heart out. “Yvonne’s not going to do anything to ruin the wedding or risk it not being perfect. After all, she has as much to gain from it being a success as the Diamond Dust does. And she’d never do anything to hurt her own reputation.”
Not when appearances were everything to her.
“I’m not paranoid.” Connie sniffed. “That…woman isn’t good for the winery.”
“I think we’re all in agreement on that,” Aidan said. “But it’s only for two months. The best way to handle it is to treat her as if she’s any other employee. If we all remain focused and do our jobs, having her here won’t be a big deal.”
Connie gave him a look that clearly said she thought he’d been dropped on his head as a baby. “That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to work with her.”
He picked up a pen and held it tightly with both hands. Easy for him? Not even close.
“Seeing as how there’s nothing we can do about it,” he said, “I don’t see any reason to let it…to let her…bother us. All we have to do is get through the next two months, then she’ll be gone and it’ll be as if she was never here in the first place.”
Like before.
“What was your mother thinking?” Connie muttered, obviously not willing to take his damned good advice. “How could she do this?”
“You’ll have to ask her.” It was the same thing he’d said to Matt when he’d asked why their mother was blackmailing him to take part in the business.
No way was Aidan explaining that she was now playing Cupid. Hell, knowing that would push Connie right over the edge.
Matt raised his hand and pointed at his watch. “You want me to pick up the girls?” he asked, referring to Connie’s two young daughters.
“No. I’ll go. I need to stop by the bank anyway.” She jabbed a finger at Aidan. “This conversation isn’t over.”
“How about instead of you actually finishing it with me,” Aidan said somberly, “you say your piece to Matt, then he can give me the condensed version. I just don’t see why I should be punished,” he continued, when Connie growled at him. “Since none of this is my fault.”
“You married that…her,” she said. “So don’t try and say this isn’t somehow your fault.”
And with that, the closest friend he had, the woman who’d stuck by his side during his father’s illness and death, and the crumbling of his marriage, turned and left.
“If you don’t relax,” Matt said in his slow, irritating drawl, “you’re going to break that pen. And we all know how you’d hate to get even a speck of ink one of your pristine shirts.”
Aidan glanced down to see his hands were shaking. He carefully set the pen down. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”
Matt rubbed his fingertips over his cheek thoughtfully, as if just noticing he needed a shave. Aidan wished he’d notice he needed a haircut, too.
“Well, now,” his brother said, “love is a strong word. Although I am enjoying the hell out of seeing you squirm.”
“That’s because you’re an ass,” Aidan said flatly. Brady inclined his head in agreement.
“I’m just glad I’m not the only one whose life Mom is trying to control.” Matt stood and stretched his arms overhead until his back cracked. “Look, it sucks. I know that better than anyone. But at least it’s a temporary situation. One I’m sure you’ll get through without so much as a hair out of place.”
“Right. Unlike you, who was forced to stay. Tell me, does Connie know what a struggle it must be for you to get through each day, how you’re obviously resigned to your fate? Because I was under the impression you were actually happy with the way things turned out.”
“I am.” Shrugging, he grinned. “But just because a man likes his final destination doesn’t mean the trip getting there was painless. I’m sure the survivors of the Titanic would agree.”
“Profound.”
“You want my advice?”
“The day I do is the day they’d better put me in the ground.”
“Don’t fight it—it’s like one of those choke collars. The harder you struggle, the tighter the damn thing gets. Keep your head down and get through each day one minute at a time.”
Then, with a sharp salute, his cocky brother backed out of the room.
“He has a point,” Brady said.
“You don’t say one word up until now and that’s how you break your silence?”
“He’s right about keeping your head down. If you don’t play Mom’s game, you can’t lose. Unless you want to reconcile with Yvonne?”
Studying his brother’s stoic expression, Aidan slid to the edge of his seat. “You know.”
Brady straightened his left leg. “There’s no other reason for Mom to bring your ex-wife here except to try and get you two back together.”
“Guess she’s feeling cocky after her recent victory over Matt.”
“I lucked out. Mom only threatened to kick me off the Diamond Dust,” Brady murmured. “You want me to talk to her?”
Aidan snapped his head up so quickly he about broke his neck. “You’re offering to have a conversation with someone? The man of as few words as possible.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t get my point across.”
True. “I appreciate the sentiment, but don’t bother. It wouldn’t work, anyway. I’ve already spoken with Mom and she’s set on this. And we both know once she’s made up her mind, there’s no changing it.”
It was a stubbornness they all shared. Which didn’t make it less annoying, just easier to recognize.
“Besides,” Aidan continued, “it’s not like I have to go along with Mom’s little scheme.” He didn’t have to fall for Yvonne. Not again. “Yvonne and I ended it a long time ago. Believe me, neither one of is us interested in revisiting our relationship.”
Brady tapped his fingers against his thigh. Opened his mouth, then shut it again.
Aidan raised his eyebrows. “You going to spit out whatever it is you’re chewing on? Or would you rather I guess?”
His brother shifted. “Be careful.”
“Of Yvonne?”
“Of your feelings for her.”
“I don’t have any feelings for her.” Aidan stood, his chair slamming into the bookcases behind him with a sharp crack.
There was one second of blessed silence as Brady smiled. “Yeah. I can see that.”
Tucking his fisted hands behind his back, Aidan drew in a deep breath. “We were married,” he pointed out in what he thought was a rational, dispassionate tone—one that hid the turmoil bubbling inside him, “but that doesn’t mean I’m holding on to some sort of…infatuation…after all these years.”
“Keep it that way. Don’t hold on to something that died long ago.”
“This isn’t like you and Liz.”
Liz Montgomery had been Brady’s fiancée—until a year ago, when she’d written him a Dear John letter while he’d been serving with the marines in Afghanistan. Shortly after, he’d been injured during a routine patrol and his life had spiraled violently out of control, resulting in a drunken Brady crashing Liz’s wedding this past summer. He’d ended up in bed with Liz’s younger sister, Jane Cleo—a one-night stand that ended in pregnancy. Brady and J.C. were married a few weeks ago.

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