Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | Heart of Stone

Heart of Stone
Lenora Worth


No one knew more about heartbreak than Tara Parnell. Widowed and struggling to make ends meet, she was determined to overcome her obstacles with faith and business savvy. The last hurdle was her attraction to handsome businessman Stone Dempsey, the man who seemed determined to ruin all her plans… .For once, Stone felt something when he met Tara. Her sparkling eyes and shyness warmed him, but her stubbornness intrigued him even more. Finally, he' d found a kindred spirit and a reason to believe again. Stone wanted her in his life, but this would take some convincing. If he searched his heart, would he help Tara see that together they were a dream come true?









Stone was immediately captivated by the blue-eyed blonde.


“Your sister is the bride?” he asked.

“Yes.” She stopped, adjusted her hair. “I’m Tara Parnell.”

Stone was very glad the woman couldn’t see his eyes through his sunglasses. If she had, she would have seen the shock and recognition he was sure he couldn’t hide. He knew all about Tara Parnell. At least, he knew all about her on paper.

“I’m Stone Dempsey.”

“You’re the one who was apparently late getting here. Your family gave up on you even coming.”

“My family gave up on me a long time ago,” he said.

She studied him then, giving him a direct blue-eyed look that became disconcerting in its intensity. Stone almost wanted to look away from her. And yet, he couldn’t.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. But I don’t listen to everything I hear,” she said. She smiled then, which made Stone’s stomach do a little dance.

He took off his shades. “You should listen. And you should get away from me as fast as you can.”




LENORA WORTH


grew up in a small Georgia town and decided in the fourth grade that she wanted to be a writer. But first, she married her high school sweetheart, then moved to Atlanta, Georgia. Taking care of their baby daughter at home while her husband worked at night, Lenora discovered the world of romance novels and knew that’s what she wanted to write. And so she began.

A few years later, the family settled in Shreveport, Louisiana, where Lenora continued to write while working as a marketing assistant. After the birth of her second child, a boy, she decided to pursue her dream full-time. In 1993, Lenora’s hard work and determination finally paid off with that first sale.

“I never gave up, and I believe my faith in God helped get me through the rough times when I doubted myself,” Lenora says. “Each time I start a new book, I say a prayer, asking God to give me the strength and direction to put the words to paper. That’s why I’m so thrilled to be a part of Steeple Hill’s Love Inspired line, where I can combine my faith in God with my love of romance. It’s the best combination.”




Heart of Stone

Lenora Worth







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


A new heart I will give you, and a new spirit I will

put within you; and I will remove from your body

the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.

—Ezekiel 36:26


To the Surf Sisters—Cindy, Elaine, Sue, Kim,

Jackie, Barbara, Julie, Tina, Charlotte, Carla, Pam

and Mary Ann—friends for life, sisters forever.


Dear Reader,

I truly enjoyed writing this story of a man who showed the world his heart of stone, while he longed for a heart of flesh. Sometimes, it takes meeting one special person to change us and make us see that we need to turn back to God for our salvation.

In the moment when Stone met Tara, he saw the man he had become. But after getting to know Tara and her girls, he also saw the man he wanted to be. This is what love and marriage and faith are all about. Love and marriage mean we’re willing to make a lifelong commitment to another human being, so that the two parts can become a whole in the eyes of God. And having faith means that we’re willing to put God first in all of our relationships.

At times we’re all like Stone. We harden our hearts to God’s love and redemption. We harden our hearts to the people who love us, our families and friends. I hope this story will touch your heart and open it to the possibility of God’s immense love and grace. And I hope you’ll join me for the next story in the Sunset Island series, when Rock and Stone’s younger brother, Clay Dempsey, returns to Sunset Island, to find some rest and redemption of his own, in A Tender Touch, available in September 2004. And in May 2004, look for my Steeple Hill single title After the Storm, a love story about new beginnings, set in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Georgia.

Until next time, may the angels watch over you—always.









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

Sunset Island Sentinel Society News Reported by Greta Epperson




Chapter One


H e refused to feel anything.

Stone Dempsey watched as his older brother, Rock, kissed his new bride. They had just married on the beach right in front of the Sunset Island Chapel where Rock preached each and every Sunday, with practically the whole island population and a few tourists witnessing the nuptials. Rock looked happy and so at peace it made Stone’s stomach turn. He didn’t know why his brother’s marriage to Ana Hanson should have him in such a foul mood.

But then, most things kept Stone in a foul mood.

He studied the happy newlyweds behind the cover of his expensive sunglasses. They protected his eyes from the glare of the late-afternoon sun, but mostly they protected his soul from any interlopers. Stone liked watching people, but he didn’t like people watching him.

He’d deliberately arrived late, so he stayed back, away from the crowd, away from his mother who stood dressed in lavender and blue, away from his other brother Clay who had served as best man for Rock’s wedding.

At least I was invited, Stone thought, his mind churning like the whitecapped breakers just beyond the shore. The evening tide was coming in. Soon, the wedding party would move to a small reception on the church grounds, underneath the moss-draped live oaks and centuries-old magnolia trees. The party would continue, with just family, later at Ana’s Tea Room and Art Gallery.

Maybe he’d skip that part, Stone thought. After all, he had business to take care of—that was the only reason he’d even made an appearance today anyway. His business was in nearby Savannah, and since he had to be in the neighborhood…

As if on cue, Stone’s cell phone rang and he turned to hurriedly answer it before anyone else got distracted by the shrill ringing. Not that anyone noticed. Everyone was clapping and cheering his brother and the bride as they headed up the path toward the church.

Stone stepped out of the crowd to duck behind a whitewashed gazebo that had been decorated with trailing flowers and bright netting in celebration of the wedding.

“Hello,” he said into the state-of-the-art cell phone, the latest model on the market. “Yes? Great. I’ll be there tomorrow morning bright and early. Sounds as if our mysterious seller is finally running out of time.”

Stone hung up the phone then turned as he heard a similar ringing nearby. Someone else had received a phone call, too. Someone else had slipped into the gazebo.

And that someone took Stone’s breath away.

Watching as she dropped the single white calla lily she’d been carrying onto the gazebo bench, he realized she had been in the wedding party. One of the bridesmaids, maybe? She wore pale baby blue, something slinky with a gathered skirt flowing to just at her knees, and obviously with hidden pockets just right for a cell phone. Her light-blond hair was swept up in an elegant chignon that begged to be shaken and rearranged. And she wore a dainty pearl choker around her slender neck.

Stone hadn’t paid much attention to any of the attendants before. But he was paying attention to this one now.

“Hello,” she said into the silver-etched phone, her voice as silky soft and sultry as the magnolia blossoms blooming all around them. She was backing up as she talked, but Stone didn’t bother to move out of her way. “Yes, I understand. Tomorrow morning. I’ll be there. Finally, a face-to-face meeting. Thanks.” Her long sigh of relief filled the flower-scented air.

Glancing up the path, she hung up the phone, placed it carefully back in the tiny pocket of her skirts, then turned and ran right smack into Stone.

“Hi there,” he said, his gaze hidden behind the safety of his shades.

“Oh, hello. I—I didn’t see you there.”

“Obviously not.”

Surprised, and looking guilty, she grabbed up her flower and stumbled on the wooden gazebo step, but Stone reached out a hand to steady her. “Careful now.”

Putting a hand to her hair, she glanced around. “I suppose you think it strange—carrying a cell phone during a wedding.”

Stone held up his own phone. “A necessary evil.”

She nodded. “Very necessary. I was expecting an important phone call and well…I discovered this dress had pockets, so…”

“So you tucked your phone close because you can’t stop working, even for a wedding.”

“Even my sister’s wedding,” she said, a trace of what might have been anger at herself causing her to emphasize the words. “I told my assistant not to call during the wedding, at least. And I did just turn it back on.” That same anger made her look him square in the face, as if daring him to dispute her right to carry her phone. And that’s when he saw her eyes, up close for the very first time. They were almost the same blue as her dress. And wide and round. And defiant.

A defiant, blue-eyed, workaholic blonde. A blonde who felt fragile to his touch. Stone was immediately captivated. And cautious. Realizing he was still holding her bare arm, he helped her down the step, then registered what she’d just said. “Your sister is the bride?”

“Yes. Ana Hanson—well, now she’s Ana Dempsey—is my sister.” She stopped, adjusted her hair again. “I’m Tara Parnell.”

Tara Parnell.

Stone was very glad the woman couldn’t see his eyes. If she had, she would have seen the shock and recognition he was sure he couldn’t hide. He knew all about Tara Parnell. At least, he knew all about her on paper. He hadn’t had an inkling, however, about how beautiful and young she was. Stone had pictured a middle-aged, hard-to-deal-with widow.

She wasn’t middle-aged, but he knew she was a widow, and he had a distinct feeling she was going to be hard to deal with even more once she found out why he was here. But then, she didn’t have a clue as to who she was dealing with either, obviously.

“I’m Stone. Stone Dempsey.” He could tell her his name, since he knew beyond any doubt that she didn’t know who he really was. He’d been very careful up until now.

“You’re Rock’s brother.” It was a statement, given with a look that hovered between shock and suppressed interest.

Okay, so she now knew that much at least. “One of them. The one who wasn’t asked to be a member of the wedding party.”

“And the one who was apparently late getting here. Your family gave up on you even coming.”

“My family gave up on me a long time ago,” he said.

She frowned, then went blank. “Oh, I doubt that. But you were just running late, right? Business?”

“Guilty,” he said, without giving any apologies or explanations. “I slipped in the back way.”

She studied him then, giving him a direct blue-eyed look that become disconcerting in its intensity. Stone stared down business opponents every day, but he almost wanted to look away from this woman’s all-encompassing blue eyes. And yet, he didn’t. He couldn’t.

“It’s all true,” he said by way of defense.

She tilted her head up. “What?”

“Everything you’ve heard about me, and everything you’re wondering about me right now. All the bad stuff about the black sheep of the family. True. Every bit of it.”

She smiled then, a soft parting of her wide full lips that made Stone’s stomach do a little dance. “Oh, I’ve heard a lot, that’s for sure. But I don’t listen to everything I hear.”

He touched a hand to her arm, then took off his shades.

“You should listen. And you should get away from me as fast as you can.”

Summing him up with a sweeping look that told him there was no doubt she wanted to be away from him, she nodded. “Probably a good suggestion, since I’m sure my sister is wondering what happened to me.” Then she pushed past him and hurried up the path, her high-heeled strappy sandals crunching against shell and rock.

Stone was glad he’d scared her away, glad she’d had the good sense to heed his warning. Because come tomorrow morning, she would hate him.

Tara Parnell was the business that had brought Stone Dempsey back to Sunset Island.



“He’s very…intense.”

Tara turned from the long table where the almond-flavored wedding cake and tropical fruit punch had been set up in the front parlor of Ana’s Tea Room, her gaze scanning the intimate group of family and friends that had congregated here after the wedding. Eloise Dempsey reclined on a swing out on the porch, chatting with Tara and Ana’s parents, Peggy and Martin Hanson. Clay Dempsey, handsome in a boy-faced way, was sitting on the steps regaling Ana’s assistants Tina and Jackie with tales about being a K-9 cop. And that society newspaper columnist, Greta Epperson, was busy taking it all down for next week’s Sunset Island Sentinel.

Then she saw the man she’d just described as intense, standing apart from the crowd. And she remembered how he’d told her to stay away from him. Or rather, how he’d warned her away from him.

Stone Dempsey stood off to one side of the long front porch, his hands tucked into the pockets of his expertly tailored cream linen pants, as he looked out past the oak trees and sand dunes at the sunset-tinged ocean. He’d taken off his navy sports coat and rolled up the sleeves of his cream-and-blue striped oxford shirt. Even in the middle of the crowd, he seemed alone, aloof, but very much aware that Greta was dying to get some exclusive comments from him. He continued to ignore everyone around him, however, including the inquisitive local social reporter.

Ana whirled in her lovely flower-sprinkled wedding dress, a gift from her new husband that had been handmade by eighty-year-old Milly McPherson. Her gaze followed the direction of Tara’s stare. “You mean Stone, of course?”

“Of course,” Tara replied, reliving how her heart had fluttered when he’d taken off his sunglasses and she’d seen his eyes for the first time. She’d never seen such eyes on a man. They were gray-blue, at once both harsh and gentle, like cut crystal, or perhaps more like shattered crystal. And dangerous. But it wasn’t just his eyes.

Stone Dempsey exemplified the kind of controlled power that automatically attracted women. It was a power that spoke of wealth and civility and manners, but it was also a power that held a tempered kind of unleashed energy, a wildness that no amount of designer duds could hide.

“He seems as if he’s about to…pounce.”

Ana gave her a quizzical look. “I suppose he has to be intense, being such a shrewd businessman. From what Rock tells me, Stone has accumulated a vast amount of money in a short amount of time, mostly through commercial real estate development.” Taking a sip of punch, she said, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of him, since you work in the same field. Stone Enterprises is one of the fastest growing companies in the South. He buys up property, resells it to corporations to build subdivisions and resorts, then starts all over again. Rock says he’s driven. He works hard, and he plays hard, by all accounts. And has women begging at his feet. Or at least according to the island gossips.”

Tara gasped, her mouth dropping open. “I have heard of Stone Enterprises, but that company is way out of my league. I mean, the firm I work for is small potatoes compared to that.” Pointing a finger, she said, “So you’re telling me that the man standing out there is Stone Enterprises?”

“The very one,” Ana said. “Stanton Dempsey himself, in the flesh, better known around here by his nickname, Stone. But he likes to keep a low profile.” She grinned, then whispered, “Rock and I actually joked about introducing you two, since you both work in real estate, and given how you both seem to love what you do to the point of distraction.” Ana indicated her head toward Stone. “So welcome to lifestyles of the rich and famous.”

Immediately recognizing the matchmaking grin on her sister’s face, Tara glared at Ana. “I think I’ll pass. Been there, done that, don’t recommend it.”

Ana didn’t seem convinced. “C’mon, you know you love the life to which you’ve become accustomed—the travel, the clothes, the perks of being such a driven, successful person. It just reminded me of you, when Rock was talking about Stone’s need to accumulate more money, more material possessions.”

“Do I seem that greedy to you?” Tara asked, acutely aware that she had indeed been that greedy and obsessed with work and money at one time. But not anymore.

“No, honey,” Ana said. “I know you’ve changed over the months since Chad’s death. And I’m very proud of you. Turning back to God, spending more time with the girls—that’s so important. They need that kind of structure and stability in their lives.”

“But I was that way once, wasn’t I?” Tara asked, humiliation coloring her words. “I neglected my daughters, just to make that next big deal.” And look where that had gotten her, she thought to herself.

“You have never neglected your children,” Ana countered. “You just got caught up in work, Tara. It happens to all of us.” Then she smiled, tugged Tara close. “Thankfully, I have Rock now to keep me grounded. And you have your girls. They’ve enjoyed having you around these last few weeks before the wedding. And so have I.”

“I’m glad,” Tara said. “And I really am trying to slow things down, to let go of that need to work so much.”

Her guilt grating like sand in a sandal, she remembered her cell phone, still nestled in the deep pocket of her dress. And remembered how Stone Dempsey had caught her doing business on that very phone.

She wanted to tell Ana the truth, that she had to work, had to make the next sale, for the very sake of her daughters. But she wasn’t ready for that much honesty. Instead, she turned her thoughts back to the intriguing subject still standing outside like a sculptured statue.

Stone Dempsey was obviously a very rich and powerful man, but more infamous than famous, Tara thought. Since he didn’t run in the same business circles as her, she couldn’t really say how she knew this about him. She just knew, somehow. Besides, she could see it in the cut of his designer suit, in the shape of his sleek golden-brown, too long hair, in the way he walked and talked. The man exuded wealth and power. She knew the type, after all. She’d been married to one.

“He seems to stand around and brood a lot,” she told Ana as they both glanced out the big bay window. “He’s barely been civil to anyone, including his mother and brothers.”

She saw Rock approach Stone now, saw the blank, bored look Stone gave his brother even as he shook his hand and congratulated him. Saw the way Rock turned away, a confused anger in his eyes. It had been much the same when Eloise had spotted Stone earlier and rushed to hug him close. He’d barely allowed his mother to touch him before he’d held her back, his hands on her arms, his expression devoid of any emotion.

“He is different from Rock, and Clay, too, for that matter, that’s for sure,” Ana said, smiling the dreamy smile of a new bride. “Like night and day. Think you’re up to the challenge?”

“What challenge?” Tara asked. “Look, Ana, I’m not interested in Rock’s brother.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Very sure.”

Ana looked doubtful. “I say go for it, but be careful.”

Tara gave her sister an infuriated look. “So are you telling me to go after Stone, or run in the other direction? Honestly, Ana, I’m not ready for a new relationship.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” Ana said, waving to her husband through the window. “But I do want you to be happy again. You and Stone…well, you might be good for each other.”

Tara didn’t see how two overachievers could be good for each other, and she was surprised Ana would even push her in Stone’s direction. But then, her sister was too blissful right now to think straight. Ana probably just wanted Tara to feel the way she did.

Tara watched as Rock entered the room and motioned for her sister. Ana walked toward her new husband, a brilliant smile on her face. Rock’s own angered expression changed instantly as he gazed at his new wife. They were obviously happy. And Tara was very happy for them. Ana deserved this kind of love, this kind of life.

I had this once, Tara remembered, her eyes still on Stone.

Correction. She’d thought she had true happiness. But it had been one big facade. She’d married Chad Parnell on a youthful whim, thinking she’d love him forever. That had been her first mistake. And throughout the marriage, there had been other mistakes. No more marital bliss for her.

“Mom, why are you staring so hard at that man out there?”

Tara turned to find her oldest daughter, Laurel, standing there with her hands on her hips, her starkly etched brows lifted in a question.

“I didn’t realize I was staring,” she said, her hand automatically fluttering to her hair. “Where are your sisters?”

“In the kitchen with Charlotte putting out more shrimp canapés,” Laurel said, rolling her eyes. “Can I please take this dress off now?”

“Not until all of the guests are gone,” Tara said, her gaze moving over the blue-and-white floral crepe dress Laurel was wearing. All three of her daughters had been in their Aunt Ana’s wedding, but Laurel had been the only one to moan and groan about wearing a frilly dress. “Besides, you look lovely. Did Cal notice?”

That brought a smile to Laurel’s sulking face. “He said I looked pretty, but I feel like such a kindergartner in this baby-doll dress.”

“Well, he’s right.” Reaching a hand up to cup Laurel’s face, Tara added, “And I agree with him. You do look pretty, baby.”

“I’m not a baby. I’m almost fifteen,” Laurel said, pushing her mother’s hand away. “Oh, never mind. I’m going to find Grandma.”

“Okay.” Tara hid the pain of her daughter’s rejection, but since her husband’s death a few months ago, she’d gotten used to Laurel’s shutting her out. Her daughter blamed her for Chad’s death.

And deep down inside, Tara knew Laurel was right to blame her.

“She one of yours?”

Tara whirled to find Stone leaning against one of the open pocket doors, his coat held in his thumb over one shoulder. He stared at her with that same intensity she’d just mentioned to Ana.

“My oldest,” she said, turning to busy herself with gathering napkins and punch cups. “And the reason I’m finding more and more gray hairs on my head.”

Dropping his coat on a chair, Stone reached out a hand to take the stack of dishes from her. “I don’t see any gray hairs.”

“Only my hairdresser knows for sure,” Tara quipped, very much aware of his touch. When he’d helped her down the gazebo step earlier, she’d felt a kind of lightning bolt moving up her arm. That same jolt was back now, like a current, humming right up to her heart.

Or maybe more like another warning.

“Does your hairdresser charge you a lot for that shampoo?”

Tara felt the magnetic pull of his eyes as they traveled over her hair then came to settle on her lips before his gaze met hers. Again, she got the feeling that he would pounce on her like a lion at any minute. “Drugstore special,” she managed to say. “I’m watching my budget these days.”

Why she’d said that, she didn’t have a clue. Or maybe she did. Tara had dealt with the whims and demands of her materialistic husband, and now that he was dead, she was dealing with the bills he’d left behind. Maybe she just wanted to set things straight with Stone Dempsey right away, so there would be no misunderstandings. So that he’d see she wasn’t like him, in any way, shape or form.

But then, what did it matter? Stone would be gone come tomorrow. And she’d be in a meeting that could very well change her life and hopefully take away some of the financial strain she’d been under since Chad’s death.

“It smells good,” he said, no disdain for her honesty in his eyes or his words. “Maybe I should invest in shampoo stock.”

Tara pulled away, dishes clattering in her hands. “Is that how it is with you? Is everything about money?”

“Yes,” he said, unabashed and unashamed. “Isn’t that how it is with everyone? Isn’t everything always about money?”

“You are different from your brothers,” she said, frustration and anger making her see red. His words sounded so much like Chad, it hurt to think about it. Or the fact that she’d once felt the same way.

Stone took the dishes away again, this time setting them down on a nearby side table. “And you’re completely different from your sister.”

“Touché,” she replied, feeling the sting of his remark just as much as she’d felt the heat of his touch.

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know exactly what you meant,” she said, moving around the table to get away from him. Stone made her too jittery, too aware of her own shortcomings.

But there he was, right beside her before she could rush out of the room, his hand bracing against the door facing, blocking her way.

“Could you please be a gentleman and let me by?” Tara asked, defiance in each word.

“Could you please not be in such a hurry to get away?” he countered, a daring quality in the question.

“I’m not in a hurry,” Tara replied, lifting her gaze to meet his compelling eyes. “I just think we got off to a very bad start, you and me.” Then she held her gaze and leaned close. “And we both know that you don’t visit very often around these parts. We probably won’t see each other much, in spite of the fact that my sister just married your brother, so what’s the point?”

He let that soak in while he took his time searching her face. Tara dropped her eyes, wishing she hadn’t said that, but when she looked back up, his expression had turned grim, as if he understood exactly what she was trying to say to him, exactly what she meant.

“Well, I did try to warn you,” he said, dropping his hand away as he stepped back.

Then he picked up his coat, turned and walked out into the night.




Chapter Two


S he refused to be nervous.

Finally, Tara thought as she paced the confines of the elegant lawyer’s office located in what used to be a Savannah town house, she was going to meet the buyer who’d been playing cat and mouse with her over the land Chad had left her. Finally, she was going to get the price she had named, the only price she would accept for the seventy-five acres of land that was now a prime piece of real estate.

And finally, she was going to get the face-to-face meeting she had requested with the buyer as part of the stipulation for the sale. Tara had to be sure that she was doing the right thing by selling off the land that rightfully belonged to her children. She had to see this mystery man in person, to look him in the eye, to know that she wasn’t selling out.

Whoever he was, he wanted this land badly. They’d been negotiating since the day she’d grudgingly decided to put the land on the market. Tara knew the buyer, who was hiding behind some massive corporate logo, wanted the land for the least amount of money possible, but she also knew what the land was worth. Situated between the Savannah River and a small inland bay, this parcel was well suited to an upscale subdivision and shopping center. If developed, it had the potential to generate millions of dollars, which was why she had wrestled with letting it go.

But Tara didn’t have near the kind of capital to develop the land. That would take a lot of money, and right now she didn’t have it, and she was too in debt to borrow more. What little bit she had received from Chad’s life insurance was almost entirely gone. No, what she wanted, what she needed now, was enough money to get her out of debt and set up college funds for her girls.

“That’s all I ask, Lord,” she said, still unfamiliar with trying to pray even though she’d been doing a lot of that lately, thanks to Rock and Ana. “I only ask that my children be taken care of. I can handle the rest.”

The same way she’d been handling things since Chad had died.

The door of the office opened, causing Tara to whirl around. A petite, redheaded secretary in a striped suit came strutting into the room, her smile practiced and calm. “They’re on their way,” the woman said. “Would you like anything to drink? Some coffee maybe?”

“No, I’m fine,” Tara replied, trying to muster her own smile. Her nerves felt like ship rigging pulled too tight, but she refused to let that show.

The redhead straightened a few files, then smiled again. “Let me know if you need anything, Mrs. Parnell. My name is Brandy.”

“Thanks, Brandy.” Tara watched the woman leave, then sank down into a staid burgundy leather armchair, her gaze moving over the busy Savannah street just outside the tall window. Tourists mingled with businesspeople in the tree-shaded square across the cobblestone street, making Tara think she did need something after all.

What she needed was a long vacation from all the worry and stress of juggling the many financial problems Chad had left her with. What she needed was some way of lifting this tremendous guilt off her shoulders. At least her parents were staying with her and the girls for a while, now that the wedding was over and she had brought her family back to their house in Savannah. Her mom and dad loved the girls and wanted to spend time with them before school started in a few weeks. But in spite of having her folks close, Tara still felt so alone.

“Turn to God,” Rock had told her after she’d blurted out the truth to him just last week. “Turn to the Lord, Tara. Give some of it over to Him. I’m telling you, it will help you get through this.”

Dear Rock. He couldn’t even tell Ana about Tara’s troubles, since she’d told them to him as her minister. He had to keep that information confidential. Tara had needlessly begged him to do so, but he had assured he wouldn’t break her confidence. He’d also urged her to talk to her sister. But Tara didn’t want to worry Ana with her problems, not now when Ana had at last found happiness with Rock. Not now, when Ana had just opened her new tea room to an immediate success. Thank goodness that investment was solid, at least. Tara had managed to loan Ana that little bit of money just before Chad’s death, just before the dam had burst on her finances. She didn’t want Ana worrying about paying her back right now.

She’d do all the worrying. Turn to God.

“I’m trying, Rock,” she whispered now, her fear so close she could almost taste it. This fear was born of hurt and pain, after finding out her husband had pretty much left her with nothing. It was a feeling of being helpless, of knowing she’d let Chad struggle with the finances all those years while she kept on pretending things were all right between them. She’d busied herself with work and redecorating, endless shopping, with keeping the girls active, with social responsibilities, just to hide her pain. When one charge card ran out, Chad had simply handed her another one. She never questioned him. He’d fixed it. He’d taken care of things.

Well, you didn’t do that, did you, Chad? You didn’t really take care of anything. And neither did I. And now, her children would have to pay for their parents’ mistakes.

Now, Tara was left to deal with the debt collectors. And the shame. Lowering her head into her hands, she said out loud, “Oh, Chad, where did we go wrong?”

“You went wrong by trusting your husband in the first place.”

Tara lifted her head, the familiarity of that voice causing the nerves she’d kept at bay to go into a spinning whirl of emotion. “You,” she said as she sat there, unable to push out of the chair. “You,” she repeated, realization dawning on her like a stormy sunrise.

“Me.”

Stone Dempsey walked into the room and threw his briefcase on the mahogany table with the smug air of someone who’d just won the lottery. He was followed by Brandy and an entourage of lawyers and accountants, which only made Tara sickeningly aware of how she must look, slumped in the chair in utter defeat.

Well, she wasn’t defeated yet. She had something Stone Dempsey wanted. And now that she knew who was behind the bid to buy her precious land, she wouldn’t sell it so easily. Not until she was sure she was doing the right thing for her girls.

Rising up, she adjusted her white linen suit and looked across the conference table at him. “You could have told me yesterday at the wedding. You could have given me that small courtesy.”

He calmly placed both hands on the table, then stared across at her, making her heart skip. “What, and spoil the happy occasion? I didn’t want to do that.” His harsh, unyielding gaze moved over her face, then he added, “And besides, as you so graciously pointed out, I probably won’t stick around long enough to worry you. So what’s the point?”

Anger made her look him straight in the eye. “The point is—Mr. Dempsey—that for months now I’ve been trying to sell my land, and for months now someone, somewhere has managed to squelch every other offer that’s been made. That same someone, who refused to be identified, I might add, doesn’t want to give me a fair amount for my land, but he sure doesn’t want anyone else to get it, either.” Taking a calming breath, she leaned across the table, the fire inside her belly giving her the much needed fuel to tell him exactly what she thought of his underhanded tactics. “The point is—you’ve been evasive and elusive, teasing me with promises all this time so I wouldn’t sell the land to someone else, but never really giving me a firm answer regarding my asking price. I don’t appreciate it, but there it is.” Lifting away, she stood back, her eyes locking with his. “And I don’t think I like you, but here you stand.” She shot him a look she hoped showed her disdain. “Maybe your family was right about you, after all.”

Tara realized her mistake the minute the words shot out of her mouth. Stone didn’t move a muscle, but she saw the twitching in his jaw, saw the flicker of acknowledged pain in the shattered reflection of his eyes before they became as glassy as a broken mirror.

She wished she hadn’t mentioned his family.

“Leave us, please,” he said with a wave of his hand to the stunned group still gathered at the open double doors.

An older, white-haired man wearing a dark suit spoke up. Tara recognized him as the man she’d been doing business with up to now, the go-between, Griffin Smith. “Stone, I don’t think—”

“I said leave me alone with Mrs. Parnell, Griffin,” Stone replied, his firm, soft-spoken tone leaving no room for arguments.

The room cleared quickly. Brandy gave them a wide-eyed look, then discreetly closed the door.

And then they were left, staring across the table at each other.

Refusing to be intimidated by a man who had deliberately tricked her, Tara once again put her hands down on the cool smooth-surfaced table, then stared across at him, wary, half expecting him to lunge at her.

Stone did the same, his palms pushing into the polished wood as he stared at her. “I tried to warn you,” he said, the whisper of the words so low, Tara had to lean even closer to hear him.

“You didn’t warn me about this,” she said, amazed that he could be serious. “You didn’t even bother mentioning this.”

“I told you, I didn’t want to interfere with the wedding.”

“Afraid I’d burst into a fit of tears and make a scene?”

He shook his head. “No. I stayed quiet out of respect for your sister.”

That made her back off. But not much. “That was very considerate of you.” Turning her head, her thick hair falling across her face, she said, “Did you come to the wedding to purposely check me out?”

He stared at her hair for a minute, making her wish she could shove it away, then shook his head. “No. I didn’t know who you were until you told me your name.”

She let that settle, then asked, “Well, why didn’t you say something, then? Why didn’t you tell me who you were? We were away from everyone. You could have explained.”

He stepped back, then crossed his arms over his lightweight gray wool suit. “Maybe I was too busy enjoying…getting to know you.”

Tara laughed. “Oh, please. That dripping charm might work on socialites, but it won’t work on me. You realized who I was and you didn’t do anything about it. You probably even figured out what my phone call was about. Guess that gave you a good laugh.”

“Did you see me laughing? Am I laughing right now?”

“No,” she said, the honest intensity in his eyes making her decide to be truthful herself. “I don’t think you’re the laughing type. Too busy nurturing that chip on your shoulder.”

“You think you have me figured out, don’t you?”

“I’ve seen your kind before.”

“Meaning, your husband?”

Remembering his words as he entered the room, she asked, “And just what would you know about my husband?”

Stone opened the leather briefcase he’d brought into the room, then tossed a heavy manila file across the table at her. “I know he owed me money. I know he owed lots of people money. And I also know that you’ve been frantically trying to hold several of those people off while you work on this land deal. So why don’t you do us both a favor and agree to my price. It’s a fair market price for that swamp.”

Tara didn’t know how to define the anger and hurt coursing through her system. She wanted to direct it at Chad, but he was dead. So she sent it toward Stone, who was very much alive. “Chad owes you?”

“We had some dealings through my friend Griffin, yes.” He shrugged. “Savannah’s business community is close-knit. And your husband was a player. Or at least, he was until he let things get out of hand.”

Tara grabbed the file, glanced at the first few documents, then carefully closed it and placed it back on the table. It was all there. All the gory details of the rise and fall of Chad Parnell.

Her heart dropped to her feet as her anger turned into dread. If Chad owed Stone money, then she’d have to practically give him the land. Besides, if she didn’t sell it soon, the bank and the creditors would probably seize it anyway. That realization made her sick to her stomach. She leaned on the table again, but this time it was strictly for physical support. “How much?”

Stone stared at her, his grim expression changing to one of concern before his face became blank. “That’s not important,” he said at last. “I’ll absorb that in exchange for the land—at the same price I’ve already quoted you.”

Tara knew he was playing games with her, banking on her emotional turmoil to steal her land away. “That’s awfully generous of you, considering you just called it swampland.”

“Part of it is swamp,” he said, reverting back to business with a smooth swipe of his hand through his too long hair. “We’ll have to haul in dirt and rock, build restraining walls, sea walls. We’ll have to build up the foundation, make sure we don’t build half-a-million dollar homes in a flood zone. That’s going to cost a pretty penny.”

“But you still want the land?”

He gave her a long, appraising look. “Yes, I still want the land.”

“Why have I never heard of you? Why didn’t Chad ever mention you?”

He shrugged again. “Your husband and I never actually met each other. Griffin Smith, who I believe you’ve been working with, acted on my behalf with your husband. I prefer working as a consultant for other companies, like a troubleshooter, behind the scenes.”

“So you can use underhanded tactics?”

He didn’t even flinch. “I use wise business tactics. I advise people on how to buy and sell vast amounts of property, and I do the same myself. That’s how your husband found me—he needed to unload a few buildings, some warehouses out on the river.”

Tara knew about that property—she’d already spent part of that money, too, to pay off some of the charge cards.

“And so you graciously helped him, for a small fee?”

“Actually, it was a rather large fee, which I’ve never collected.” He looked down then. “We sold the property right before he died, so I held off on collecting my cut. And look, I’m sorry—”

She cut him off with a hand in the air. She didn’t need his sympathy. “So that’s when you came gunning for me, right?” She had to wonder if he’d been watching her all along, and just waiting for the right time to strike.

“I knew of your situation, yes. Then I did some research.” He stopped, rubbed a hand down his chin while his eyes searched her face. “I didn’t know…about you—that you were Ana’s sister. I only knew Chad was married.” He waited a beat, then added, “Tara, I only see what’s on paper.”

Deciding that statement clearly summed him up, she inclined her head. “So you heard about the land, saw a good opportunity—on paper—then bided your time until you knew I couldn’t hold out any longer. Is that why you finally agreed to meet with me?”

He shifted, and sighed. “I agreed to meet with you because you were being stubborn. Griffin could have handled the contract, but you kept digging, wanting to know about the company trying to buy your land.”

“You mean Hidden Haven Development Company? Is that just a name you pulled out of a hat or does it have some sort of subliminal meaning?”

“No, it’s legitimate. A subsidiary of Stone Enterprises.”

“And you are Stone Enterprises, of course. That much I do know.”

He nodded. “Normally, I prefer to remain anonymous. It just makes things easier in the long run.”

She nodded. “Easier for you. That way you don’t have to face the people you’ve bullied and taken advantage of.”

“I take advantage of situations, not people,” he said, and she could see the fire of that conviction in his slate-colored eyes. He actually believed that baloney.

“Oh, good. I feel better already.”

“Look,” he said, impatience and irritation coloring his words. “Can we just get on with this? Do you want to sell me the property or not?”

Crossing her arms again, she asked in a defiant, split second decision, “What if I’ve changed my mind? What if I say the deal is off?”

And then, he did it. He pounced.

Pulling her across the table with a hand wrapped around her wrist, Stone brought Tara’s face close to his, his shimmering eyes moving over her hair and lips. “Oh, no, darling. It doesn’t quite work that way. Because you see, now, I want much more than that land, Tara.”

“You’re going to have to explain that,” she said, her face inches from his. “What else could you possibly want?”

Stone stared at the woman he was holding, his thoughts going back to yesterday, when he’d first met her. That particular encounter had kept him awake most of last night. He’d come so close to calling her in the middle of the night to prepare her, but around 3:00 a.m. had decided it wouldn’t matter. He’d probably never see Tara Parnell again after this sale was finalized.

If it was finalized. By the look in her cornflower-blue eyes, that might not be happening anytime soon.

But he wanted to see her again.

And what he wanted right now, right this very minute, was to kiss her. But Stone refrained from that particular need. He had to play this cool. He had to forget about how attracted he was to Tara Parnell and remember the real prize.

He wanted that land. And her. But he couldn’t tell her that, of course. Not yet, anyway.

“I want us to talk about it,” he said, hoping she would stick around long enough for that, at least. “We need to have a calm, rational discussion.”

She yanked her arm away, as if disgusted with him. “I am not calm and rational right now. And I want to get as far away from you as possible.”

He didn’t blame her. Stone knew he had her cornered. It was how he worked. He negotiated through his lawyers and managers, then he sat back and waited, always silent, always low-key, and always one step ahead of the rest of the pack. It drove people crazy, but it worked. But strangely, today’s victory didn’t bring him the usual rush of adrenaline he normally got when closing a deal. “I did try—”

Her finger in the air stopped him. “Do not tell me again how you tried to warn me. Nothing could have prepared me for this.”

“I’m willing to explain it to you,” he said, wishing he could explain his need for more money and power, his need to be successful at all costs. “If you sit down and let me bring my people back in, I can show you why this is a fair offer.”

She paced the floor, giving him ample time to enjoy the way her crisp suit fit her slender, petite body. He also enjoyed the way she tossed those thick, blond bangs out of her pretty eyes.

Except those eyes were now centered on him.

“Okay,” she said, the one word calm and quiet. “Get them back in here. Where do I sign?”

Her defeat floored Stone. Literally. He sank down in his own chair, ran a hand through his long bangs, then glanced up at her. “What? No fight? And to think, I was so looking forward to sparring with you.”

She turned then and he would never forget the look in her eyes. Forget disgust. She hated him. Stone could feel it to his very soul. And nothing had ever burned him so badly.

“I don’t have any fight left,” she said, her words devoid of any emotion. “I have to consider my children.” She turned away again.

Don’t let her cry, Stone silently pleaded. Although he wasn’t sure to whom or what he was pleading.

But she didn’t cry. She just wrapped her arms against her stomach, as if to ward off being sick, then turned to face him. “Since you know so very much about my late husband, and me, too, for that matter, Mr. Dempsey, then you probably know that I can’t hold out any longer. I’ve used up most of my assets to pay off the credit cards and the other bills. I’ve used some of the life insurance to make the house payment, and while I’m trying to sell the house, I still need to buy groceries and clothes for three growing girls, not to mention school supplies and health insurance, so I’ve sold off everything I could to have some sort of cash flow. But soon that will be dried up, too. And my salary, as nice and cushy as it might seem, won’t begin to cover the debts my husband left because my company has threatened downsizing and I won’t be getting a raise anytime soon.

“So, you see, I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of playing games. I need the money you’re willing to pay for that land, even though we both know it’s worth more than the price you’ve quoted me. And I need it now. Today.” She leaned over the table again, then grabbed a pen, her hand steady in spite of the emotion cresting in her voice. “So, call the lawyers and accountants back in and show me where to sign. I want to get this over with.”

Something inside Stone changed. It was a subtle shifting, much like sand flowing through a sieve. It was just a nudge of doubt and regret, coupled with admiration for her spunk and strength, but it pushed through enough to scare him to death. He couldn’t go soft. Not now. Not after he’d been working this deal for months.

But he did go soft. Goodness, he wasn’t such an ogre that he’d cause a woman’s children to go hungry. Was he?

“Look, Tara, we don’t have to do this today.”

It was her turn to pounce. Tara lunged across the table at him, her blue eyes bright with tears she wouldn’t shed, her expression full of loathing and rage. “Oh, yes, we do have to do this today. Because I will not allow you to continue to humiliate or goad me. You’ve won, Mr. Dempsey—”

“I’m Stone. Call me Stone, please.”

She gave the suggestion some thought. “Okay, then, Stone. You’ve won. You can have the land, as long as I never have to see you again. I’ll deal with your middleman, and anybody else who wants to do your dirty work, but don’t you ever show your face around me again. That has to be part of the deal.”

Now Stone actually felt sick. Sick at himself for being so rude and ruthless. He felt deflated, defeated, done in.

By a blue-eyed blond widow who had turned out to be very hard to deal with. A blue-eyed blond widow who’d just told him she never wanted to see him again. Only, he had to see her again. Now he had to convince her of that, too.

“You’re not serious,” he said, giving her a half smile full of puzzlement.

“I’m dead serious,” she replied, giving him a tight-lipped ultimatum. “I want it in the contract.”

Stone got up, pushed at his hair. “You want me to put in the contract that you won’t have to ever see me again?”

“That’s what I said—but I want it worded—that I don’t want to ever see you again.”

“That won’t hold up. You’ll have to see me, Tara, to finish up the paperwork, at least.”

“Then the deal’s off. You did say you like to remain in the background, let other people handle the details. What was it—you prefer to stay anonymous?”

“But that’s crazy. Once the papers are signed, that clause won’t mean anything. And it won’t matter.”

“You’re right,” she said, smiling at last. “It won’t matter then, because you won’t matter. At all.” She rubbed her hands together, then tossed them in the air, as if she’d just washed away a bad stain. “I’ll be done with you by then.”

Stone felt sweat trickling down the center of his back. This deal had all of a sudden turned very, very sour.

Surprisingly, he wanted it to matter. He wanted to matter to her. And he certainly didn’t want her to be done with him just yet. Because he wasn’t done with her, not by a long shot. In fact, as the famous saying went, he’d only just begun to fight.

Stone watched her, saw the agitation on her pretty face, but decided he was willing to suffer her wrath just to keep her near. “We’re not finished here, Tara. Because I’ve just decided I’m not ready to sign that contract.”

Her rage went into double overdrive. Giving him an incredulous look, she asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I want to reconsider this deal. We’ve waited this long, why not take it slow and think it through?”

“I told you, I want to get this over with.”

“Yes, I heard that loud and clear. And I’m asking you to wait. Just one week.”

She stomped and shifted, her taupe heels clicking softly against the carpet. “I’m agreeing to your offer on the land. You can’t intimidate me or play games with me anymore. What more can you possibly hope to gain by waiting, Stone?”

He came around the table, and unable to stop himself, he pushed at the fringe of bangs falling against her cheekbone. “Your respect,” he said. “I’ll be in touch.”

Then he turned and left the room.




Chapter Three


I t had been nearly a week.

Tara stood at the window of her bedroom, looking out over the swimming pool and trees in her lush backyard. It was beautiful, and Chad had been very proud of it, but Tara didn’t see the shimmering water of the pool or the tropical foliage that she’d paid a landscaper to plant in her yard.

She only saw red. Because of Stone Dempsey.

He’d said he’d be in touch, but in the four days since she’d met with him, she hadn’t heard a word from the man. Even his trusted associate, Griffin Smith, wouldn’t return her calls. And she’d called several times. If Stone really wanted to win her respect, he could at least return her phone calls.

But then, maybe he had decided she didn’t merit any respect after all. “I guess I blew it,” she said aloud, her hands going to her aching head.

“Blew what?” Laurel came sauntering into the room, the sullen look on her face indicating that her mother had messed up on several things.

Surprised by this unexpected visit, Tara smiled. “Nothing for you to worry about, honey.”

Laurel plopped down on a gold brocade chaise longue set before the sliding door leading out to the pool.

“What’s up with you?” Tara asked, cautious to not sound too eager.

“I want to go to a concert in Savannah tomorrow night. All my friends are going. Will you take me?”

“What kind of concert?” Tara asked, the price of the ticket already adding up in her brain. The ticket, a new outfit, food. The sum kept silently increasing.

Laurel twisted the strands of a tiny braid she’d worn on one side of her temple all summer, while the rest of her long hair hung down her back. “It’s a new alternative rock band. They’re awesome. Can I go, please?”

Tara ignored the pain pounding in her head. “What’s the name of this awesome new band?”

“The Grass Snakes,” Laurel said, hopping up, her hands in the air. “Their latest single—‘Out to Get You, Girl’—it’s number one this week. I’ll just die if I can’t go, Mom.”

Already, Tara didn’t like the tone of this conversation. “And what is the rating on their latest CD?”

Laurel rolled her eyes, her heavily ringed fingers still threading through her braid. “What’s that matter? I like them. C’mon, Mom, don’t be such a drag.”

“I’m not being a drag,” Tara replied, familiar with this conversation. “I’m being a responsible mother. And until I find out what kind of music this awesome new Snake band is playing and if it’s suitable for you, I can’t agree to let you go to this concert.”

Laurel’s oval face flushed with anger. “You are so lame! Since when did you start being responsible, anyway?”

Hurt by the rage spewing out of her daughter, Tara could only stare. When she finally found her voice, she asked, “What does that mean, Laurel? I’m your mother. I’m trying to do what I think is best.”

“Yeah, right,” Laurel shouted, her hands on her hip-hugger jeans. “Now, Mom. Now you’re trying to do the right thing. Now that Dad is gone and you’ve finally realized you have a family—”

At Tara’s shocked gasp, Laurel stopped, tears welling in her eyes. “Oh, never mind. It’s a dumb band, anyway. I’ll just sit at home and mope, the way you do!”

With that, Laurel marched to the door, only to run smack into Tara’s mother, Peggy.

“Whoa,” Peggy said, her hands reaching up to steady Laurel. “Where are you going?” Seeing the look on Tara’s face, she held Laurel with her hands on the girl’s slender arms. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s her!” Laurel said, jerking away to point at Tara. “She’s decided to be a real mom, only it’s too late for that now.”

Peggy watched as her granddaughter charged down the hall and up the stairs to her room on the second floor, then she turned to Tara as they both heard the door slamming shut. “I thought things were getting better between you two.”

“Me, too,” Tara said, slinking down on the bed. Her voice shaky, she said, “We had such a good talk a few weeks ago, you know, after she ran away with Cal Ashworth.”

Peggy sat down next to her. “Honey, they didn’t run away. They just fell asleep on the beach.”

“Yes, and caused Ana to worry and then hurt her ankle looking for them.”

“But…as you said, you worked through that.”

“I thought we worked through it,” Tara said, looking at her mother’s comforting face. Ana looked like their mother. They both had auburn hair and green eyes, whereas Tara took after their father, blonde and blue eyed. “At times, we can talk and laugh, at other times, she reverts back to a little she-monster.”

Her mother’s knowing green eyes were appraising her now, in the way only a mother’s could. “What’s wrong this time?”

“She wants to go to some rock concert in Savannah this weekend. I simply wanted to know what kind of songs this bands sings, before I let her go.”

Peggy smiled. “Does that sound familiar?”

Tara nodded, wiped her eyes. “I remember, Mom. My freshman year in high school. I wanted to go see some heavy metal band that was playing in Atlanta, and you refused to even consider it.”

“You pouted for two weeks.”

Tara took her mother’s hand in hers. “Yes, and about a month later, the band broke up. Their fifteen minutes of fame was over.”

“Glad you’re not still pouting,” Peggy said. “Honey, Laurel will be fine. She’s at that age—growing up, hormones going wacky.”

Tara nodded. “Yes, but it’s more than that. She’s still so angry at me…because of Chad’s death.”

“She can’t blame you for that,” Peggy said, frowning. “The man died of a heart attack. Granted, he was way too young, but…you didn’t know. None of us knew how sick Chad was.”

“Tell that to Laurel,” Tara said, getting up to pace around the spacious room. “Mom, she heard us fighting the night before he died.”

“Oh, my,” Peggy said, a hand playing through her clipped hair. “Have you talked to her about this?”

“I’ve tried. We talked a little about it after…after I realized how much Laurel was hurting, and I thought we were making progress. Rock’s been counseling her about forgiveness, and letting go of her anger.”

Peggy’s expression was full of understanding. “Well, maybe this outburst is just because you won’t let her go to the concert.”

Tara shook her head. “You heard what she said. Laurel doesn’t believe I’m a good mother. And maybe she’s right.”

“No,” Peggy replied, coming to stand by her. “You have always been a good mother. You know, we all slip up now and again. The important thing is to not keep making the same mistakes. I don’t think you’re going to let anything come between you and your children, ever again.”

“No, I’m not,” Tara said, wishing she could tell her mother all of her worries. But then, her mother would just worry right along with her, and she didn’t want that. “Thanks, Mom,” she said instead. “I’m so glad you and Daddy decided to spend this week here.”

“Me, too, honey.” Peggy gave her a quick hug, then said, “Oh, by the way, Ana called earlier while you were out. She invited us to come to the island Saturday. The church is having a picnic on the grounds. Some sort of anniversary celebration.”

Tara groaned. “Oh, yes. The church is 230 years old. Can you imagine that? I’d forgotten all about the celebration.”

“Amanda wants to go,” Peggy said, her hand on the door. “And I think Marybeth does, too.”

“But I bet Laurel won’t like it, as compared to going to a concert in the city.”

“Cal will be there,” Peggy pointed out. “You might try reminding her of that.”

“Good idea,” Tara replied. “And a good reason to keep her from attending that concert.”

And a good reason for Tara not to dwell all weekend on why Stone Dempsey hadn’t returned her phone calls.



“She’s called twice today, Stone.”

“Let her keep calling,” Stone replied, his gaze scanning the computer screen in front of him. “That land’s not going anywhere.”

He stopped reading the screen, aware that his executive assistant, Diane Mosley, was still standing there, staring at him with the precision of a laser light.

“What?” he finally said, closing the laptop to glare up at the woman who had been by his side since he’d first opened a storefront office, straight out of college ten years ago, in an older section of Savannah’s business district.

Diane was close to fifty, her hair platinum blond and short-cropped, her eyes a keen hazel behind her wire-rimmed bifocals. Pursing her lips, she tapped a sensible-shoed foot on the marble floor. “Why are you tormenting that poor woman?”

Stone felt the wrath of Diane’s formidable reprimand. But he didn’t dare let it show. They had an understanding, his dependable, loyal assistant and him. She was really the boss, but he really didn’t want to admit that. So they pretended he was the boss. It worked fine most days. Unless she started mothering him or pestering him.

Like now.

“I am not tormenting Tara Parnell. I have every right to go back to the drawing board regarding that piece of property. After all, we’re talking millions of dollars here. I want to make sure I have all my ducks in a row.”

“I understand about your little ducks,” Diane said, her steely gaze unwavering. “What I don’t understand is why you’ve seemed so edgy since meeting with Mrs. Parnell. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she got the best of you.”

Stone glanced at the grandfather clock centered between two multipaned windows, then deciding it was close enough to quitting time, loosened his silk tie. Since he didn’t want to go into detail regarding his wildly variable feelings about Tara Parnell, he said, “No, actually, she brought out the worst in me, which is why I’m reconsidering this whole deal.”

He’d planned an overall assault. Flowers, candy, the works. He’d planned on forcing Tara to spend time with him over the last week. But somehow, that planned tactic had gone by the wayside. Each time he remembered how she’d looked at him, with all that hate and disgust, he got cold feet and decided he’d do better sticking to business and playing hardball. He’d be much safer that way, less vulnerable to a counterattack.

“You aren’t going to let the land go, are you?” Diane asked, shifting her files from one arm to the other. “Stone, you’ve been eyeing that land for months now.”

“Yes, I have,” he admitted. Chad Parnell had let it slip about the land he’d bought dirt cheap from a family friend years ago, land he’d been sitting on until the right time to sell. Only, Chad had died before being able to turn a profit on the land. But Stone had remembered the land, and everything had fallen into place. “No, I’m not going to let go of the land, Diane. But if it will make you stop glowering at me like I’m an ugly bulldog, I’ll tell you why I’m holding off.”

Diane settled one ample hip against the solid oak of his big desk, then lowered her eyeglasses. “Do tell.”

“Don’t mention this to Griffin,” Stone said. “But I’ve reached a conclusion, one I think will be beneficial to both Mrs. Parnell and me.”



“What’s wrong with you?” Ana asked Tara the following Saturday.

They were sitting in lawn chairs behind the tiny Sunset Island Chapel, overlooking the docks of the bay and Sunset Sound to the west. Out over the sound, hungry gulls searched the waters for tasty tidbits, their caws sounding shrill in the late-afternoon air. A fresh-smelling tropical breeze rattled through the tall, moss-draped live oaks, its touch swaying the palmetto branches clustered here and there around the property. Behind them, near an arched trellis, a gardenia bush was blossoming with sweet-scented bursts of white flowers.

“I’m okay,” Tara replied, her dark sunshades hiding the truth she felt sure was flashing through her eyes. “Just another fight with Laurel.”

“Oh, yes, that,” Ana said. “I heard.” Taking a quick look around, she added, “Well, she seems to be over not going to the concert. Look at her.” She inclined her head toward the docks.

Tara leaned up, squinting, then saw her daughter and Cal, sitting on one of the many wooden docks lining the bay where luxury yachts shared slips with smaller, less impressive sailboats, shrimp boats and motorboats. They were talking and laughing, their hands waving in the air. Not far away, a long brown pelican stood sentinel on an aged pier railing.

“He is a very nice boy,” Tara said, lifting a hand toward Cal. “A good influence on Laurel, if he’ll stick to the rules and not sneak off into the night with her again.”

“Oh, I think Cal’s learned his lesson on that one,” Ana replied. “His father made him work that particular crime off, sweating and painting all summer.”

“What about his mother? I never hear anyone mention her.”

“She died when he was seven. It’s sad, really. Don has sisters and brothers who help him with his children. Cal’s got two older sisters, too, who watch out for him.”

“That explains a few things,” Tara said, her heart hurting for her daughter. “Maybe that’s why Laurel’s drawn to Cal. You know, losing a parent.”

“Maybe.” Ana sat up, waved to someone she knew. “Oh, I need to talk to that woman. She commissioned a small sculpture from Eloise, to be delivered to my shop. I want to tell her it’s ready.”

“Okay,” Tara said, closing her eyes as she settled back to let the sun wash over her. “I’ll just lie here and vegetate a few more minutes before I find the strength to sample more of Rock’s wonderful barbecued ribs.”

“Yes, my husband does have nice ribs,” Ana quipped, slapping Tara playfully on the leg as she hopped up.

Tara didn’t bother opening her eyes. The sun felt good on her legs. She’d worn a black gauze sarong skirt, lightweight and cool-feeling, with a knit red-and-black flower-splashed sleeveless top. Lifting at the skirt, she kicked off her black leather thong sandals and tried for the hundredth time to relax.

But all she could think about was her money woes and the fact that her oldest daughter thought she was a horrible mother. She’d prayed that things would turn around for her family, hoped that God would see fit to give her another chance. But she still had doubts. She still needed answers, guidance, assurance.

And maybe some solid health and life insurance.

Help me here, Lord, she thought. Help me to make my life better, for the sake of my children. She’d tried so hard all summer, working on two different land deals. But this was about more than money. Tara needed the money those deals could bring, but she also needed to spend time with her children. She’d taken way too much time off already, and her bosses weren’t too happy about that. What am I supposed to do, Lord?

A shadow fell across Tara’s face.

Annoyed, she opened her eyes to find Stone Dempsey standing over her. She didn’t know why her heart seemed to sail off like a ship leaving the cove. She didn’t understand why he looked so very good in his stark white polo shirt and olive-khaki pleated slacks. Tara only knew that she needed some answers. From God and Stone Dempsey.

“Me,” he said, as if to answer the one question she was about to ask.

“You,” Tara replied. “What are you doing here, Stone?”

“I came bearing gifts.” He tossed a bouquet of fresh cut flowers onto her lap.

Tara sat up, sniffed the lilies and roses. “How did you know where to find me?”

“I have ways of finding people,” he said. “Especially when I’m in the middle of negotiating a contract.”

Tara imagined he knew every move she’d made since they last talked, which was a bit too unsettling. But she refused to let her qualms show. “Well, you obviously aren’t too concerned, since you refused to return my calls.”

He took that in, glanced out at the harbor, then lifted his shades to stare down at her. “I’ve been busy coming up with another plan. And I’m here because I hope we can renegotiate.”

The heat from his eyes hit her with all the warmth of the sun, causing Tara to shift and straighten her skirt. “Meaning the contract, of course?”

“Among other things.”

Tara thought she knew what other things he wanted to haggle over, but she didn’t dare think about that now. “What’s to renegotiate? You’ve named your price and I’ve accepted it.”

“With a certain stipulation, if you’ll recall?”

“Yes, I recall. I never wanted to see you again. But I need to sell that property, so in spite of how I feel, I’ve tried calling you to discuss things. You obviously aren’t in a big hurry for that land, after all.”

“I’m in a hurry,” he said, leaning down so close she could smell the subtle spice of his aftershave. “But I can be patient, too.”

“What does that mean?” Tara said, trying to get up out of the low chair.

He reached down and pulled her out of the chair with one hand on her arm, then brought her close, his gaze sweeping her. “Careful now.”

Why couldn’t she be graceful around him, at least, Tara wondered. Because the man flustered her, plain and simple.

Not so plain and not so simple.

“I told you, I’m through playing games,” Tara said, trying to move around him, her flowers clutched to her side.

“I’m not playing, Tara.” The look in his eyes washed over her like a warm, shimmering ocean wave, leaving her both languid and alert. “Have dinner with me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Oh, yes, you will. Because it’s not going to happen.”



“Tara, what’s going on with you and Stone?” Ana asked Tara later that night. “He’s called here three times.” Before Tara could reply, Ana clapped her hands together. “Did you take me up on my suggestion? Is that it? Are you going out with Stone, like on a date?”

“Oh, please!”

Tara sat across the massive kitchen counter of the tea room, folding napkins for tomorrow’s after-church brunch crowd. The girls and her parents were down on the beach with Rock and Cal, leaving the two sisters alone in the big Victorian house that served both as Ana’s tea room and art gallery on the bottom floor and Ana and Rock” s home on the second and third floors. Business had been so good at the quaint restaurant, Rock and Ana hadn’t really had a proper honeymoon—just one weekend together alone in this big old house. But Ana didn’t seem to mind. She was happy. Too happy to understand this problem with Rock’s brother.

Which was why Tara had debated telling Ana about Stone. Now she didn’t have any choice. He’d called here, asking for Tara. Luckily, Rock hadn’t answered.

“Oh, please, what?” Ana said, her hands on her hips before she went back to her bread dough. “Tell me, Tara. I mean, you two must have really clicked at the wedding, so why are you holding out on me?”

“It’s business,” she said finally. “Stone is trying to buy my land.”

Ana stopped stirring bread dough, her mouth dropping open. “That land near Savannah that Chad bought all those years ago?”

“Yes.” Tara nodded, folded another napkin, then stopped, looking down at the counter. “He wants to develop it into an upscale gated residential community, complete with shopping centers and restaurants near the river.”

Ana dropped her spoon to stare at her sister. “That could mean a lot of money, right?”

Tara nodded again. “He’s offering me a lot, yes, but not as much as I’d hoped to get.”

“And when did all of this come about? Certainly not at the wedding?”

Tara kept her eyes down. “No, we just met at the wedding. Look, it’s a long story—”

A knock on the back door stopped Tara in midsentence. “You’ve got some explaining to do,” Ana said underneath her breath before she opened the door.

Eloise Dempsey whirled in, carrying a yellow-colored sealed folder in her hand, her gaze hitting on Tara. “Oh, good, you’re here. I’m supposed to deliver this to you.”

“What is it?” Tara asked, surprised to find the famous sculpture artist playing postmistress.

Eloise gave her a wry smile, then shook her head, her feathered dreamcatcher earrings shimmering and shimmying as she moved around the long counter to give Ana a quick peck on the cheek. “Well, it’s the strangest thing,” Eloise said, her eyes back on Tara. “My son Stone came to pay me a rare visit this evening. We had a nice dinner and then he said he needed me to do him a favor.”

Tara’s heart picked up tempo, while her sister picked up an obvious interest in the conversation. “What else did he say?” Tara asked, her eyes locking with Ana’s.

“He said to tell you, actually to tell all of us, we’re invited to a private dinner party next month, at his home here on the island—Hidden Hill.”

“What type of dinner party?” Ana asked before Tara could say a word. “I mean, that old mansion isn’t in any kind of shape for a party.”

“Oh, a black-tie benefit for the lighthouse.” Eloise clapped her hands together. “He implied it was by invitation only. And I think he’s going to hold it in the garden, in spite of how bad the place looks. I believe we’ll all receive our formal invitation in about a week or so.”

Ana smirked, then rolled her eyes. “So Stone couldn’t come down to the fair we held last month, to mingle with the little people?”

“I guess not,” Eloise said. “But he wants to do his part—make a contribution toward the restoration.”

“Of course he does,” Ana said, making a face to Tara behind Eloise’s back. Then, as if she regretted being so cynical, she added, “That is good news, Eloise.”

Eloise nodded. “Yes, and I’m so glad I was invited. And you and Rock, too, of course, Ana. Stone was very evasive about the whole thing. An exclusive crowd, I suppose.”

“You think?” Ana asked, shaking her head.

“I think,” Eloise replied, calm as always, “that our Stone has come home, at last. I think his brother’s wedding made him realize that he needs to settle down. I also think he needs our understanding and forgiveness.”

“You’re right, of course,” Ana said. “And I’m sorry if I sounded a tad suspicious. I mean, I’m the one who’s been encouraging Rock to try for a better relationship with his brother, so I shouldn’t be doubtful.”

Eloise smiled softly. “Stone hasn’t given us very much reason to think otherwise. Until now.”

“Yes,” Tara agreed, her eyes on the fat envelope laying on the counter. “But what’s that got to do with me? And what’s in this envelope?”

“I don’t know, dear,” Eloise said, her keen gaze centered on Tara. “Why don’t you open it and find out?”




Chapter Four


T ara eyed the envelope as if it were a snake.

“Open it,” Ana said, her curiosity obvious in the wide-eyed look she gave her sister.

Tara reached for the envelope, turned it over. “I don’t understand what this could be. And why Stone would have you deliver it.”

Eloise shot Ana a quizzical look that Tara couldn’t miss. “Stone and I had a good talk at the wedding the other day,” Eloise said. “He promised he was going to come around more. Then, tonight he told me he was going to stay here on the island for a few weeks. He’s renovating that old mansion, so he wants to be close to the work. He’s a details man, my Stone. Other than learning he’s going to be here a while, I’m stunned and clueless.”

“So is this one of those details?” Tara asked, wondering just how much Stone really had told his mother about her. And wondering what Eloise wasn’t telling her.

“I don’t know,” Eloise said with an eloquent shrug. “I only know that my second son seems fascinated by you, dear.”

Ana cleared her throat and began briskly kneading her bread dough. “Maybe it’s about the land, Tara.”

Rock came into the kitchen right as the words left Ana’s mouth. “What land?” Glancing down at the bright envelope, he saw the label from Stone Enterprises, then asked, “What’s that?”

“Hello, Rock,” Eloise said as he leaned down to absently kiss her cheek. “I just delivered this to Tara, from your brother, Stone. He’s staying at Hidden Hill for a while.”

Tara winced. She didn’t want to bring Rock into this. His relationship with his brother wasn’t the best on a good day. “It’s business,” she said, her smile weak and shaky.

“What kind of business do you have with my brother?” Rock asked, his expression wary.

“She was just about to explain that to me when Eloise brought this in,” Ana said, pointing to the package.

Tara felt the scrutiny of everyone in the room. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I guess I’d better tell all of you everything, from the beginning.”

Rock sank down on a bar stool. “That might be wise.”

Tara touched a finger to the package. “I put some land on the market a few months ago—the land Chad left me in the will.”

“Near Savannah, right?” Rock said, nodding.

“Yes, centered between a tributary of the Savannah River and a marsh and pond,” Tara told him. “Chad always wanted to build a house out there, a weekend retreat. Of course, that can’t happen now, so I decided to sell the land.”

“And Stone wants to buy it?” Rock guessed, his vivid blue eyes studying her face.

“Yes. About a month ago, I got a nibble on the land, from a man named Griffin Smith. He named a price, but I held off. I thought I could get more money for the land.”

“But you can’t?”

She shook her head, her gaze on Rock. “I don’t think so. Anyway, I held out as long as I could, but the day of the wedding I got a call confirming a face-to-face meeting with the prospective buyer, the man Griffin Smith represented—a man who had been very secretive and hard to pin down.”

“My brother,” Rock said, the statement confirming his resentment toward Stone. “That’s so like Stone.”

Tara nodded. “I had no idea I was dealing with Stone, not even at the wedding. He never indicated it, but he recognized who I was as soon as I told him my name.” Lowering her gaze, she added, “Of course, he didn’t bother telling me who he was, until the meeting the day after the wedding.” In his defense, and against her better judgment, she said, “He didn’t want to disrupt the wedding.”

Rock snorted, rolled a hand down his face. “He didn’t want to make a scene? I doubt that. More like he didn’t want us to find out what he was up to.”

“Now, Rock—” Eloise began, only to have her son hold up a hand.

“I know, Mother, I know. Stone has the best of intentions.”

Tara shot her husband a warning look, then placed her bread into a baking pan. “So…Stone and you are trying to reach some sort of agreement about the land, Tara?”




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/lenora-worth/heart-of-stone/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.