Authors: Kerry Connor
“He continued living here at Sutton Hall the rest of his life. He never remarried, never really got over losing her. Right, Grace?”
The woman didn’t respond, and Jillian wondered if she was even there anymore. She glanced back to find the housekeeper standing a few yards behind them, her steady gaze fixed
on the portrait.
No, Jillian thought, not just on the portrait, but on the face of Jacob Sutton, her eyes burning with an unreadable, but intense look.
As if realizing that she hadn’t answered—or that Jillian was watching her—Grace met Jillian’s gaze before slowly lowering her eyes. “That’s right.”
Returning her attention to the painting, Meredith let out a little sigh. “They may
have only had five years together, but evidently they were happy ones. And afterward, he loved her so much he never thought of being with anyone else.”
How sad,
Jillian thought at the idea of the man living alone in this massive house for all those years. Though from the way Meredith had told the story, she had the feeling that wasn’t the response she was supposed to have. She managed to
say, “How romantic.”
“Or depressing.”
The comment echoing her own thoughts was the last thing Jillian expected to hear, and she turned her head in surprise. The statement hadn’t come from Meredith, but from a masculine voice above them.
A man was striding down the stairs toward them, his eyes unmistakably pinned on her. He walked with an easy, confident grace, taking his time in
both his approach and his study of her. He moved like he owned the place, very “Lord of the Manor.”
Which was exactly who he was, of course.
Adam Sutton.
Jillian recognized him, too. But like the mansion he and his sister owned, the man made a much larger impression in person than his photographs could begin to show.
He was a tall man in his mid-thirties, his body demonstrating
a muscled leanness beneath the black pullover and slacks he wore. He was undeniably good-looking, with thick black hair and high cheekbones, though perhaps not conventionally handsome. His features were too hard, too sharp, too intense. But more than that, there was something utterly compelling about him that immediately grabbed her attention and refused to let go, every instinct in her body—good
and bad—instantly going on alert. Everything about him projected confidence bordering on arrogance. Meeting his dark, steady gaze, she found herself helpless to look away.
Jillian knew from her research that he’d been a management consultant before giving it up to take over Sutton Hall and open it for weddings with his sister. It seemed a strange choice for the man before her to have made.
She couldn’t imagine him being remotely interested in weddings. On the other hand, just looking at him, Jillian had no doubt he’d been successful in the business world.
The man would be a formidable adversary. And from the way he was looking at her, she suspected that was exactly what he was to her.
Doubt flickered for an instant, and she wondered if he knew who she was....
She’d
find out soon enough.
“Adam!” Meredith called as he joined them on the landing. “Jillian, this is my brother, Adam,” Meredith said. “Adam, Jillian Jones.”
“Welcome to Sutton Hall,” he said, his mouth curving slightly in what might have passed for a smile.
“Thank you. It’s great to be here.”
“Is it?” he returned, the smile deepening as though he’d caught her in a trap. “After
the recent events I’m sure you’ve heard about, most women planning their weddings wouldn’t want to be anywhere near here. It seems only natural. Yet here you are.”
“Adam,” Meredith murmured in admonition under her breath.
“You’re right,” Jillian said without taking her eyes from the man. “I’m sure most people would be put off getting married somewhere a bride-to-be so recently died.”
“But not you?” he said with a slightly mocking note in his voice.
“No,” Jillian said. “I don’t believe in bad luck or omens. I believe in myself.” That much was certainly true.
“You must, since you came here by yourself,” he pointed out. “You didn’t want to bring anyone else from the wedding party to help you with the arrangements?”
“Unfortunately, no one else could come with
me on such short notice. I’m going to have to try to get everything organized on my own.”
“Neither your fiancé nor any of your family and friends had any problem letting you come here by yourself?”
“They know I can take care of myself.”
“I suppose you’ll have to.”
“No, you won’t,” Meredith interjected. “You’ll have everyone at Sutton Hall at your disposal to make this the wedding
of your dreams.”
Jillian barely heard her, her focus squarely on Adam Sutton. “I thought what happened to that poor woman was an accident. Is there some reason I shouldn’t want to be married here, Mr. Sutton?” Jillian asked, unable to keep the challenge from the question.
He hesitated for only a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly, before replying. “Not at all, Ms. Jones,” he said, something
in his tone utterly unconvincing. “Not at all.”
“Then there shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I hope not,” he said mildly. It was an odd response. As the owner of Sutton Hall and partner in the wedding business his sister had started, he should be reassuring her, shouldn’t he, wanting to keep her here? But there was nothing reassuring in his words. Instead, combined with the way his eyes seemed
to bore through her, his comments seemed to contain a message she couldn’t quite decipher.
“I was going to show Jillian to her room,” Meredith said into the silence that fell between them, the nervousness in her voice indicating she’d picked up on the tension between them. Not that there was any way anyone could have missed it.
“That sounds like a good idea,” Adam Sutton said dispassionately,
never taking his eyes off Jillian.
“Right this way,” Meredith said, starting up the stairs.
It was a clear cue for Jillian to follow her. Instead, she remained where she was, her gaze locked with Adam Sutton’s. Was he trying to scare her? Warn her? Was it possible he knew who she was? But if he did, why wouldn’t he have exposed the truth and refused to let her come here? Or was this
a trap, and he’d purposely brought her here to guide her to the answers he wanted her to have—or prevent her from asking the questions at all?
Peering up into the man’s cool exterior and bottomless dark eyes, she found the last possibility entirely too easy to believe.
Finally realizing how long she’d been standing there—far too long to remain without having to explain herself—Jillian
raised her chin and moved to join his sister.
* * *
A
DAM
WATCHED
J
ILLIAN
Jones follow Meredith up the staircase, his eyes briefly drifting to her gently swaying hips before he caught himself and returned his gaze to the center of her back. She was an attractive woman, there was no denying it. A slim blonde with startling green eyes and curves in all the right places, he would have to
be blind not to notice.
Not that he had any business noticing. The woman was getting married.
Or so she said.
He was no more convinced about that than he was about her motives for being here, or anything else about her for that matter, as he continued studying her.
He wasn’t surprised when she paused and glanced back at him as if she’d sensed his attention. Her eyes met his,
one brow raising in silent question.
The polite thing would have been to look away, pretend that he hadn’t been watching her.
He simply stared back, unwavering, unrepentant. Let her know he’d been watching, the same way he would be as long as she was here.
She frowned, her brows knitting together, and turned to continue up the stairs.
He should have looked away, he admitted.
It wasn’t as though he was trying to scare her.
Or maybe he was. Maybe she was someone who needed to be scared off, someone who was here to cause trouble. It was certainly easier to believe than the idea that she’d come here to be married. What kind of woman would want to have her wedding in a place where another bride had died so recently?
For Meredith’s sake, he wanted to be grateful
for this woman’s presence here and apparent lack of superstition. But he didn’t have that much faith in people, and Meredith had already paid once because he hadn’t done a good enough job looking out for her. He wasn’t going to let it happen again. If the woman was lying, Meredith was the one most likely to be hurt.
Grim determination settled over him as he watched the women reach the next
level and disappear from view.
Every instinct told him Jillian Jones was going to be trouble.
And he was fully prepared to do whatever was necessary to prevent her from causing it.
Chapter Two
“Here we are,” Meredith declared with a cheerfulness that was starting to sound forced. “I think you’ll be pleased. This is one of the largest rooms in the house, with its own private bathroom, and it has a wonderful view.” Pushing the door open and reaching in to flip on the lights, she stepped aside to let Jillian enter first.
The room she’d led Jillian to was
on the second floor in the east wing near the front of the manor. Courtney had been staying in one of the tower rooms, Jillian knew, the one at the top of the tower at the other end of the east wing. Jillian had to believe it was nicer and had an even better view since it had been given to the first bride to come to Sutton Hall, but considering what had happened to that bride, Jillian could understand
why Meredith had chosen differently for her.
Even so, it took only one glimpse of the room to prove Meredith had given her little reason to complain. The suite was every bit as nice as she’d said. A glorious four-poster bed stood against the right wall. Plush rugs covered the floors, and while there may not have been a balcony, the windows offered stunning views of the mountains, flooding
the room with sunlight.
“It’s lovely,” Jillian said to the woman’s expectant silence, not having to fake the admiration in her voice.
“I’m glad you like it,” Meredith said with obvious pleasure.
“Is anyone else staying nearby?”
“Adam and I are both at the end of the hall, far enough that you should have privacy, but close enough if you need us.”
“Great.” It would have
been better for her purposes if there was no one remotely close by, but that was probably too much to expect. Given what had happened to Courtney, they likely wanted to keep a closer eye on their guests during their time here. It was just another challenge she’d have to deal with.
“I thought we could meet in a little while to begin going over the plans,” Meredith said. “I have plenty of ideas
and options to show you, and of course I want to know everything you’re thinking of. And Rosie, our cook, is ready to go over potential menus with you.”
Jillian did her best to look properly enthused. Faking excitement for the wedding plans would be the hardest part of her mission here, hands down. “I can’t wait. Just give me some time to freshen up and I’ll be raring to go.”
“Wonderful,”
Meredith said. “Well then, I’ll give you a chance to settle in.”
Mustering a smile, Jillian tried not to let her relief show. Truth be told, the woman’s nervous chatter was beginning to wear on her nerves. “That would be great, thanks.”
“Welcome to Sutton Hall,” Meredith said, then turned and walked to the door, gently closing it behind her.
As soon as the door was shut, Jillian
released a long, slow breath and sagged onto the bed. Shoulders slumping, she surveyed her opulent surroundings.
She’d done it. She was here.
That was the easy part.
Now she had a mystery to solve.
* * *
A
LONE
AT
LAST
.
Lowering himself into the desk chair, Adam savored the silence that surrounded him. When he’d first arrived at Sutton Hall, the room that had served
as Jacob Sutton’s study had been a disaster, packed with so much paper and clutter he’d barely been able to move through the space. Clearly Jacob had let things get away from him over the years. It had taken almost a full year, but Adam had managed to get the space in order. The study finally felt like his, a private sanctuary that offered a welcome place to retreat into his thoughts for a while.
In the past month he’d needed that more than ever.
A brisk knock on the door suddenly interrupted the silence, the noise pulling a sigh from his lungs. So much for that.
He’d barely glanced up before the door opened and Meredith stepped into the room.
“Hey there,” he said, his irritation fading. “She all settled in?”
“I think so. I asked Zack to move her car to the garage and
bring her bags in.”
Adam frowned. “I could have done that.”
“I know. I was going to ask you, but I wasn’t sure I wanted you interacting with her again so soon.” She folded her arms over her chest and matched his frown. “What was that out there?”
“What was what?”
Meredith shot him a pointed look. “You know what I’m talking about. You weren’t exactly laying out the welcome mat.
You were practically interrogating her.”
“Maybe she needs to be interrogated,” he murmured.
Her frown deepened. “Do you really believe that?”
Adam released a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know. I just think it’s very strange that this woman showed up so soon after what happened to Courtney Miller, has no problem having her wedding here and came here alone, the same way Courtney did.
That doesn’t strike you as odd?”
“Maybe a little,” she admitted faintly. “After Courtney died, I thought we’d need a miracle to keep going. Maybe this is the one we need.”
Regret shot through him, not for the first time, in the face of his sister’s open vulnerability. He hated being the one to challenge her hopes that this could all still work out, but he had to be realistic, for both
of their sakes. “Maybe,” he hedged, no doubt sounding as certain as he felt about the possibility that miracles existed, or that they would be lucky enough to be granted one.
“You said you were going to look in to her,” Meredith pointed out.
“I did.”
“And what’d you find?”
He hesitated before grudgingly admitting, “Nothing. She seems to be exactly who she claims to be.” Jillian
Jones was a graphic designer who lived in San Francisco. Up until six months ago, she’d worked at a large advertising agency. She’d recently started her own freelance business that was just getting off the ground. She wasn’t a reporter or an investigator of some kind, someone he could imagine wanting to come here to stir up the mess surrounding Courtney Miller. The woman’s loved ones had understandably
raised a fuss over her death, despite the fact that it had been a tragic accident, and he’d had to consider the possibility someone might come here acting on their behalf. That didn’t appear to be the case, but that still left the possibility she could be some kind of morbid ghoul who got her kicks out of tragic events. Either way, it would be trouble they didn’t need—which was exactly
what his gut was telling him she was.
“Well, then what more do you want?” Meredith asked.
“For this to feel right, and it doesn’t.”
“I think you’re just being overly cautious,” she said. “Which you have every right to be after what happened. But maybe it’s time things started going our way. Her wedding is our second chance to make this work. If it doesn’t, we’re not going to get
a third one.”
“I know,” he said gently. “And I want this to work as much as you do.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
No,
he thought, because no one could want this to work as much as she did. The only reason he cared about this wedding business was because it mattered so much to her. It was why he’d left his job to dedicate his time and energy to making this work with her—for her. The idea to
open Sutton Hall for weddings was the first spark of interest she’d shown in anything after what had gone down with that bastard Brad. This was her dream, and he was determined to see that dream come true.
And if Jillian Jones did anything to mess with it—with any of them—she’d answer to him.
* * *
J
ILLIAN
HAD
JUST
stepped out of the bathroom adjoining her bedroom when she heard
a knock on the door to the suite.
Moving to the door, she opened it. An incredibly handsome young man stood on the threshold, holding her bags. For a moment, Jillian was actually taken aback by how attractive he was. Dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, it was as if he’d stepped out of a magazine ad depicting the prototypical outdoorsman, with thick dark brown hair, deep blue eyes and chiseled
features.
And yet, staring into his perfect face, she felt none of the impact she’d experienced just a short time earlier when taking in Adam Sutton’s entrance. Just the thought of the man sent a shiver trembling through her again.
As her eyes met the newcomer’s, she caught the gleam in his. Oh, yes, he was very good-looking. And he knew it.
“Hi, I’m Zack,” he said, flashing her
a row of perfect, gleaming teeth. “I brought your bags.”
“Of course.” She stepped out of the doorway to allow him access to the room. “Thank you so much. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”
“Not at all.”
He walked past her and set the bags on the floor at the end of the bed, then turned back to face her. “There you go. Anything else I can do?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well,
if there is, you be sure to let me know.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. So what is it you do around here when you’re not helping women with their bags?”
“I’m one of the groundskeepers. Just started. My dad’s the main one, has been for as long as I can remember. He’s in charge of maintaining the property, especially the gardens on the east side.”
“So it’s kind of the family business?”
He wrinkled his nose, making it clear what he thought of that idea. “God, I hope not. I’m just doing it for the time being.”
“I take it you don’t enjoy it?”
“It’s all right. Pays the bills.” He grinned. “And it’s gotten better now that I get to meet some interesting people.”
She wondered for a moment if she was mistaking the flirtatious note she heard in his voice. It was possible
he was only being friendly.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” He reached into the front pocket of his shirt and pulled out her keys. “I moved your car to the garage.”
“Thanks. And where is that?”
“Around the west side of the house. I can show you if you like.”
“That’s all right. I’m sure I don’t need to know right now.” At least she hoped. And if the time came she did need to get to her
vehicle quickly, she’d find it herself.
She reached out to take the keys. He dropped them into her hand, his fingertips grazing her palm a little too long. Warily, she lifted her eyes to his. He winked, that slow, slight grin curling one corner of his mouth.
Nope, definitely not imagining things. It was all Jillian could do not to roll her eyes. As far as the man knew Jillian was an
engaged woman here to get married, and he was flirting with her?
Classy.
“Thanks again,” Jillian said, giving him the cue to leave.
“Sure thing. I’ll be seeing you around.” He walked to the door, an unmistakable swagger in his step.
Jillian barely had the door shut behind him before she gave in to the eye roll he so desperately deserved. Only then did the larger implications of
his behavior occur to her.
A man with so few scruples he’d put the moves on a complete stranger he knew was getting married likely wasn’t someone to be trusted. She wondered if he’d made a move on Courtney. Jillian had no doubt Courtney wouldn’t have acted on it, no matter how good-looking she might have thought he was. She’d loved Eric. How would Zack have reacted to being turned down?
Somehow Jillian suspected she was going to have to find that out herself. She would have to keep an eye on him.
With a sigh, she turned back to put her bags away. This was such a strange place with an...interesting group of people working here. She could hardly wait to meet the rest of them.
* * *
“A
ND
IF
YOU
see what I did with the frosting here, it’s another option that I
think is quite lovely....”
Jillian had never thought she would get sick of looking at cakes. But then, she’d never seen Rosie Warren’s album of all the cakes she’d made.
Jillian nodded and made a sound of agreement in her throat to make the woman think she was listening. She really didn’t want to hear any more about cakes. At the moment she couldn’t imagine ever wanting to eat one again.
Instead, she did her best to study the woman without making it obvious she was doing so. The longtime cook at Sutton Hall, Rosie was a sturdy-looking woman who appeared to be in her late fifties or early sixties, with gray hair and a rounded face and figure that gave her a grandmotherly appearance. She seemed pleasant enough, but Jillian wasn’t getting much of a read on her personality, other
than that she was exceedingly competent at her job. From the moment she’d sat down at the massive dining room table with Jillian and Meredith, she’d opened the album and talked about nothing but cakes.
When Rosie started to turn the page, Jillian quickly interjected. “This is all very impressive. You made all of these cakes just to have photographs of them?” She wasn’t exaggerating. The album
contained photographs of at least four dozen fully decorated cakes, something Jillian couldn’t imagine her having on hand before Sutton Hall had been opened for weddings. For her to go to that much trouble was certainly impressive.
“Yep. Just like the professionals,” Rosie said with unmistakable pride.
“Although if you’d feel more comfortable hiring a professional baker, we’d understand,”
Meredith said. “I do have the numbers of several in the area who come highly recommended.”
“I’m perfectly capable of baking and decorating a beautiful wedding cake,” Rosie interjected before Jillian could respond, her voice suddenly tight with anger. “I think my work speaks for itself.”
“It certainly does,” Jillian said. “I’ll leave the cake in your capable hands. I trust you’re more
than up to it.”
Rosie nodded firmly. “Thank you. So why don’t you tell me what you have in mind when it comes to flavors, and I can prepare some samples for you to try.”
Jillian was saved from answering when a door across the table from them suddenly swung open. “Rosie? You around?”
Moments later, a man stepped through, coming to an abrupt stop as soon as he spotted them. “Oh. Sorry
to interrupt.”
“It’s no trouble,” Meredith said. “Jillian, this is Rosie’s husband, Ed. I’m sure you’ll be seeing him around. He’s our handyman and all-around go-to guy for keeping this place up and running. Ed, this is Jillian Jones. She’s going to be getting married here.”