Authors: Rita Herron
"I was simply trying to be a gentleman, considering her safety."
"Safety? The only way she'll be safe is if you leave her alone."
"I won't leave her alone here." How could he with the door missing? Any Tom, Dick, or serial killer could walk in off the streets and kill her. And what if that man from the bar had followed her? They'd practically been humping onstage.
Static cut in over the line and Lance shook the phone, annoyed. "Are there any other siblings I should worry about dropping in?"
"No." Their mother probably decided Lucy was trouble enough. "By the way, someone named Deseree called; she sounded very interested in your weekend date." Not that he was fishing for information...
"Deseree called?"
"Yes. Who is she anyway?"
"Er... she runs a charity that I donate to regularly. I'll phone her back." Her last words came out garbled; then he heard, "Remember, Lance, forget the hotel. And keep your hands off Lucy."
He glanced at Lucy, who had knelt and was carefully organizing nude playing cards, body liqueurs, and edible G-strings in her silver case as if they were gold. Keeping his hands off her would not be a problem. The girl was a walking nutcase.
But where would Sophie's hands be while he was playing guardian to her little sister? And how dare she accuse him of trying to seduce Lucy?
What kind of man did she think he was?
* * *
The next day Sophie climbed into the limo to go to the airport. Lance Summers was the most infuriating man she had ever known. He'd rattled her so, she'd even resorted to lying about her own mother.
How had she misjudged him so badly?
Maddie.
Lance was her best friend's brother, so she had listened to Maddie's unbridled descriptions of how Lance had sacrificed for her and Reid, how he'd forgone college and started his own business to pay off debts, and Sophie had thought they shared a kinship. After all, she'd practically raised her little sister, too. She'd had to be the responsible one. She'd had to take jobs she hadn't wanted to take. The soul mate she'd sensed in Lance must have been a figment of her imagination.
Sucker.
While she was on vacation, he was in her house. Planting his scent. Making friends with her cat. Touching her things.
Lusting after Lucy.
She was never going on vacation again. Even though it had been bright and sunny with crystal-clear skies, a cloud of doom had settled over her.
She'd desperately tried to reach Deseree after she'd hung up with Lance the night before. What would she do if her mother suddenly showed up on her doorstep?
How had things gone awry in such a short time? While she'd been hundreds of miles away on a beautiful island with romantic music, heavenly breezes, and a testosterone-laden man ready to sweep her under the junipers for a gritty night of lovemaking, an earthquake had cropped up at home.
Worse, she couldn't circumvent the explosion because she was having too damned much fun....
"Smile for the camera."
She resisted the urge to glare at the annoying cameraman, but Rory plastered a shit-eating grin on his face. Her smile had been frozen in place all day and felt as stiff and fragile as peanut brittle, while he'd had the time of his life, or so he kept claiming. They had snorkeled, sunbathed, Jet Skied, taken a tour of the Mayan ruins, wined and dined, and now, thank God, were on their way to the airport. For goodness' sake, she had even set her watch an hour early to avoid his last-minute attempt to frolic by the sea and get sand in all the wrong places.
She inhaled sharply to calm herself and leaned back against the plush leather seats with a diet Coke while Rory helped himself to the champagne bar. One plane ride and she would be at home, free of his smothering attention. But then she'd have to deal with Lucy's next adventure, her mother's ongoing saga of dramas, and the renovations to her house, sans Lance if she could arrange it.
But she still had a week's worth of the singles series to air. She twisted her hands around her glass and watched the coast rush by as she mentally planned the week. Monday: scenes from the various dates with all the couples. They'd hash over their first impressions. Tuesday: visitors from various singles/matchmaking services in the area. Wednesday: an episode on speed dating, the new concept of meeting in a room, rotating from table to table to interview someone for five minutes, then deciding if you wanted a date with them. Thursday: the social scene hot spots followed by Lucy and her new venture. And Friday: long-lost lovers.
Lucy's debut worried her the most. She had to find out more about Lucy's products.
Then the show was doing a special on mothers for Mother's Day. The June lineup proved to be just as depressing, with special features on June weddings and brides. A snore rippled from the seat beside her and she glanced at Rory, willing herself to see him as husband material. It didn't happen.
His head had fallen back, his mouth was hanging open, his tongue lolled to the side. Maybe he would sleep on the plane, too, and she could avoid any more kissy-kissy.
The driver pulled into the airport and parked near the entrance. "Here we are, Miss Lane."
Rory jerked awake and rubbed his chin where drool dripped (the hairy man was always sweating or drooling), then extended a hand to help her from the limo. She forced another gracious smile as she allowed him to escort her inside. Maybe she should have gone into acting instead of hostessing a talk show.
If she had convinced everyone she'd had a great time this weekend, she was ready for the big time.
* * *
Three sleepless nights now, and Lance stared at the new door he'd supposedly ordered, disgusted that he'd been shipped the wrong one. Obviously he couldn't do anything right. After he'd hung up with Sophie the night before, he'd phoned Reid to ask him to stop by and baby-sit Lucy with him, but his phone call had interrupted a night of hot sex between Reid and another woman. For a second Lance had been envious, but unfortunately the only woman he wanted to sleep with was in Cancun with another man.
Reid, looking for an excuse to escape any morning-after awkwardness, had leaped at the chance to come over and ogle another female. Especially when Lance had mentioned that Sophie's sister was the knockout strawberry blonde with the tight ass Reid had fawned over at the bar.
Of course, Lance had seen his brother's unadulterated look of lust when he'd walked through the door and spotted Lucy in her fluorescent pink T-shirt (it doubled as a nightgown, she announced), and Lance had realized the flaw in his plan. So he'd spent the better part of the night staying awake to make sure Reid behaved, and Lucy remained tucked safely upstairs with Sophie's psycho cat, who still hated him but adored his brother.
Now Reid had taken Lucy for a ride to show her the projects they'd recently built on Skidaway Island. At least, he'd better be showing her the houses and nothing more. Thank God, Lucy had left her silver case here at Sophie's.
Lance rubbed his tired eyes, then hauled the door to his truck. The warehouse where he ordered supplies was closed on Sunday, so he'd have to wait until Monday to pick up the new one. This morning he'd replaced the piping in the downstairs powder room so it was functional. He attacked the retiling project next. Maybe by the time Sophie returned he'd have her bathrooms accessible.
Ironic that while she'd been off gallivanting around nude beaches with another man, he'd had his head stuck in her toilets.
* * *
Lucy twisted a strand of her hair around one finger as she watched Reid Summers describe the houses he and his brother had built on Skidaway Island. He had the biggest, sexiest hands.
She had always loved hands. Hands and feet and long toes on a man. Did Reid have long toes?
"Most of the estate homes are on five acres," Reid pointed out.
"My gosh, these are mansions. The owners must be rich."
"Most of them are; a lot of folks retire here. There's a section in back with smaller lots. We'll head that way." Reid maneuvered the Tahoe down the road toward the last phase of the development. "Lance and I work together on the construction. Chase Holloway, our brother-in-law, is the architect. My sister, Maddie, has a decorating service and furnished the interiors."
"It must be fun to work together. Sophie..." She itched to mention that she and Sophie had worked together, but remembered her promise not to talk about the Diva act. Pooh on Sophie for making her lie. "Uh, Sophie's show... I saw Chase and Maddie get married on Sophie's show."
"Yeah, they did." Reid gave her a wary grin, then shifted in his seat as if she'd produced a rope to hang him.
The M-word must be taboo, too. Hadn't Sophie mentioned that he and his brother had a bachelor pact? Well, he needn't worry. Marriage was the
last
thing on her mind. Lucy didn't intend to settle down; she didn't want to limit herself to one man. Although Sophie wanted that security; it was the very reason she'd bought the house. Hadn't she said something about having a thing for Lance? It certainly didn't sound as if her sister was happy with him the night before. And Lucy didn't want her sister settling down, especially in Savannah, so far away from her.
"Maddie and Chase live in that one," he said, stopping his Tahoe in front of a long, winding drive that led to a smaller Southern plantation home.
"Oh, my stars, it has sleeping porches. I wonder if they use those in the summer."
He shrugged. "I imagine so."
"How romantic."
Reid grinned. "They can hear the water from the river on their back porch."
"Yum."
Reid laughed and angled his head toward her. "So are you moving here, Lucy, or only in town for a visit?"
"Just here for a visit," Lucy said. "I live in Vegas."
"Really? I've always wanted to go there. You gamble a lot?"
"Not really, I..." Er, she wasn't supposed to mention the act. "I hostess for a club in the city."
"I've heard it's a wild town. All those nightclubs and showgirls."
If he only knew... "Yeah, I love it. All the lights, excitement."
"We have excitement around Savannah, too."
Lucy toyed with her gold loop earring. "Is that so?"
Reid's lip twitched. He was probably a player, but he was sexy and easygoing, her kind of guy.
"Really." He reached out and twisted a strand of her hair around his finger. "Maybe I could show you around."
Lucy leaned into his hand. "I'd like that, Reid." After all, Sophie had warned her not to talk about the Diva act, but her sister wouldn't care if she had a little fun with Reid Summers, would she?
* * *
It was nearly midnight when Sophie finally made it home. She dragged herself from the limo, tipped the driver, who hauled her suitcase to the front door, and fished her keys from her purse with one hand while she visually inspected the premises for intruders, as she always did when she arrived home. Force of habit from living in low-rent, low-class neighborhoods her entire life.
Everything seemed in order, although barring the kitchen light, the house was dark and Lance's Blazer still sat in the driveway. Drat. If he had seduced Lucy, she'd kill him with one of his own tools.
What if Lucy seduced him? Could she really blame Lance for giving in to her vixen sister?
Shuddering at the possibility, she pushed open the door and barreled inside, clomping her heels as loud as she could to alert them that she had arrived. Swallowing her pride was one thing; actually having to witness the man she wanted—correction:
had
wanted—naked in bed with her sister was another.
Clip-clop. Clip-clop
. "Lucy, I'm home!"
She dropped the bag by the steps, hesitating at the bathroom when she noticed the new tiles. Wow. Lance had made noticeable strides in the renovations already. Excitement budded in her chest, and she knelt to examine the work, running her hand over the sleek white ceramic. Jazzy loped in, turned up her nose, and rubbed against Sophie as she scratched the cat's back.
"Hey, baby, I can't wait to see the house finished. All my life I dreamed of having a real home, with a white picket fence, a walk-in closet...." She let the sentence trail off, adding other requirements silently—a house with nice, clean furniture, everything neat and orderly, none of the ratty furniture or beer-stained rickety sofas and cigarette-scarred cheap tables she'd grown up with. A small yard for children to run and play—
"You're home?"
She swung around on her hands and knees, and Jazzy growled. Lance stood in the doorway, his gaze glued to Sophie's butt. She instantly slapped a hand over her rear, wishing she'd forgone the decadent desserts in Cancun.
Lurching upright, she nearly smashed her knee on the toilet as she stood. Jazzy darted through Lance's feet and raced up the stairs.
Smart cat.
Lance steadied her but she pulled away. "You shouldn't sneak up on a girl."
"Sorry. I was so busy I didn't hear you come in."
Busy doing what? She skimmed her eyes over his torso, willing herself not to react to the fact that his denim shirt had come unbuttoned (or had he just put it on?) and his rolled-up sleeves revealed muscular arms covered in a fine layer of dark hair. "You're still here at midnight?"
"Working."
Sure he was. Her gaze cut toward the kitchen behind him. "Where's Lucy?"
He chewed his lip, shifting uncomfortably. "Out with Reid."
Sophie gulped. So if Lance couldn't have her, the other brother swooped in for the kill. "Lucy's with your brother?"
He shrugged. "He took her to see the property on Skidaway Island."
"What time?"
"They left around noon."
Her mind ticked away the hours. "And they're not back yet?"
"He called. Lucy wanted to see the sights."
And no doubt Reid had offered to show her. Sophie paced to the front window, pushed aside the curtain, and checked the drive. "You shouldn't have let them go off together."
Lance grunted. "What do you have against Reid?"
Sophie folded her arms and swung around. "He's a Summers man. That's enough."