Sweet Lake (Sweet Lake #1)

by Christine Nolfi

  Behind her thick glasses, Penelope’s eyes brightened. “Here’s an idea. We should concentrate our energies on making Linnie fall in love with Daniel. Wouldn’t they have the prettiest kids?”

  Frances beamed. “Let’s make your suggestion the first item of business at our next meeting.” She cast her attention across the others with mild reproach. “Bringing lovers together is a better use of our energies than resorting to retribution and low impulses. We’re Sirens. We have a duty to let generosity of heart guide our pursuits.”

  With her spoon, Silvia smacked the counter. “Oh, will you all shut up? I don’t care about our mantra or making people fall in love. Not tonight.” Heaving the first pot from the stove, she plodded across the room. “We still have to assemble the weapons and work out tactics. Lynnette, Kathryn, Biddy—go through the sticks and make sure they’re all sharp. And get waxed paper from the drawer over there. I don’t want to scrape wax off my table for a week straight. Norah, get the string.”

  Frances uttered an objection. The words faded beneath the sounds of shuffling feet as the women leapt into action.

  Penelope asked, “What about me and Tilda?”

  “You’ll help with assembly.” Silvia returned to the stove. “Get moving. I don’t want to be here all night.”

  Frances hurried after her. “Please, Silvia. Don’t do this. It’s madness.”

  She succumbed to defeat as the fiery Siren, pretending her ears didn’t function, grabbed the second pot and stalked past.

  Chapter 8

  The gentle push on her shoulder rocketed Linnie from her dreams. Groggy, she focused on the shadowy presence beside the bed. Jada, in an oversize T-shirt.

  “What’s happened? Freddie hasn’t started a fire, has he?” Since checking in this afternoon, he’d flirted with every female employee of childbearing age and turned the Sunshine Room into a karaoke bar.

  “He’s in his suite.”

  “Lock him in, keep an eye on the door. I’m going back to sleep.”

  “It’s Daniel, on my cell. Says you aren’t picking up your messages.”

  “Only because I’ve misplaced my phone.” She’d hurled the device at her brother’s head before storming upstairs to bed. Tomorrow she’d dig around the shrubs behind the Sunshine Room.

  “Worry about your phone later. Daniel sounds upset.” Jada tossed her cell onto the bed and strode out.

  “Linnie?”

  She peered at the clock. “Daniel, it’s one a.m. Call me tomorrow.”

  “I’ve been leaving messages for hours. Meet me at the beach.”

  “Now?”

  “No, next Tuesday for dinner,” he replied acidly. He did sound upset. “Yes, now.”

  “Making peace with gooey s’mores by campfire? Don’t waste your time. I can’t fight with you this week. I have previous commitments.”

  The rebuff only hardened his tone. “Fifteen minutes,” he said. “Be there.”

  He hung up, leaving her no choice but to pull on jeans and run a brush through her hair. She left the suite and reconsidered. Marching back inside, she went to work with toothpaste and mouthwash. A touch of mascara and a hint of blush completed the regimen.

  She was furious with the man. All the more reason not to play fair. What had Frances suggested this afternoon?

  This is war.

  If Daniel assumed he’d beat her at the new game they were playing, he’d miscalculated. Yanking open dresser drawers, she dug out tighter jeans. The coup de grâce? A strappy bra and a low-cut tank top.

  At the front desk, Mr. Uchida clacked away at the computer. The rose in his lapel was shedding petals down the front of his rumpled blazer, and his stubby black hair stood on end. He looked like a terrier in a thunderstorm. A logical conclusion, since the whirlwind of Freddie’s entourage had kept him jumping all night.

  By some miracle, the inn rested in a peaceful stillness. Freddie, assuming he was still awake, was either kicking back alone or continuing the drinking spree with female guests in his suite. A night of martinis would knock down most adults. Not Freddie. Cast iron had nothing on his liver.

  The moon rode high above the humid night. Barefoot, Linnie hurried down the steep incline guided by the silvery light. Crickets sang a melody to summer. On the beach Daniel wove a path beside glittering waters.

  He got straight to the point. “Freddie owns half of the inn?”

  The blunt opener took her off guard. “Doesn’t your client share everything with you?” she countered.

  “Oh, sure. He gives me access to his financials, his darkest secrets—did I mention we’re pledging the same fraternity?” Daniel flashed a look of irritation. “Philip dropped the bomb while I was driving back to Sweet Lake. I nearly drove into a ditch.”

  The part about a near-accident zinged her heart. She was peeved at the man but didn’t want him injured.

  Regrouping, she asked, “Why do you care about my brother’s stake in the Wayfair?”

  “I’m not interested beyond the impact on you. Are you under the impression I want Freddie playing havoc with your life? And for the record, I care that you didn’t trust me with your secrets. We’re good friends. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  No answer to that, and she risked a quick appraisal. Frustration brimmed in his wide-set eyes. Another jolt of emotion, and she tried to discount how attractive he looked in the moonlight. Unshaven, in a soft T-shirt and faded jeans. The man wore a suit with panache, but the casual look increased his sexual appeal by miles.

  “Hard to say why I never brought it up,” she lied, thinking, Disappointment, humiliation—take your pick.

  “Of all the things not to mention, this one’s the winner.” He rolled his shoulders, the irritation rising off him like steam. “Guess what? If I’d known in advance, I could’ve put my foot on Freddie’s throat when I drew up the contract.”

  “What contract?”

  He threw his attention on the surf. “Forget it.”

  “Gosh, who’s the one keeping secrets?”

  “The lawyer with an unfortunate obligation to his client.”

  “Yeah? Is he the same guy who’s supposed to be my true-blue friend?”

  The salvo wheeled his attention back to her. The intensity of his appraisal stirred the hunger she’d done her best to disregard since his mysterious departure from Sweet Lake. He took his time studying her, the strong, unvoiced emotion brewing in his eyes.

  At last he said, “I will explain. Once your brother gives the go-ahead, you’ll have all the details.”

  “How nice. Freddie’s in the driver’s seat. Like taking a drive in the country with a lunatic at the wheel. What are we, unwilling passengers?”

  “Not for much longer.”

  Daniel angled his shoulders forward. He thwarted the urge to step closer, the reason for his hesitancy clear. Their fleeting moments of passion had destroyed the easy camaraderie they’d once enjoyed. In its place a heavy awareness bloomed.

  The surf rolled gently to the beach. The lulling melody sharpened Linnie’s senses as the mutual attraction put them in an uneasy orbit around each other.

  She was acutely conscious of each emotion flickering across Daniel’s face. Regret, recrimination, annoyance—she’d never seen him this unsettled. The loose purchase he kept on his emotions was oddly thrilling. At his sides his hands wavered; then he pressed them flat to his thighs. Her hunger intensified.

  He wanted to touch her. He was doing everything in his power to squelch the impulse.

  She took the step closer he denied himself. “You’ve been gone for two days,” she said, vying for the upper hand. “Where were you?”

  “Cleveland, Medina—stop changing the subject. Why didn’t you tell me about your brother’s stake in the inn?”

  “I’m really not sure.”

  “Linnie, I can tell when you’re holding back. You do this thing with your cheeks.”

  “What thing?”

  He stroked the soft indentation in her right cheek
. “With your dimples.” Quickly he returned his hand to his side. “They dance whenever you’re holding back.”

  The prospect of Daniel reading her so easily was unnerving. “They do not.” Whatever happened to the mysteries of the feminine heart?

  “They’re dancing now.” His eyes beckoned her nearer. “I need the truth.”

  She’d arrived at the strong, sturdy wall of his chest. Gaze averted, she breathed him in. He smelled of the outdoors, of leaves and the green of summer, with a subtle musky note underneath. Why did his scent calm her mind and not her body? Desire skittered her pulse.

  She hazarded a glance. “Who likes to discuss their greatest defeats?” The memories pressed down, a heavy burden. “My parents decided to leave the inn to me and Freddie equally. How do you prepare for a blow you don’t see coming? Like a fist aimed in the dark.”

  “You should’ve seen it coming.”

  The comment was uncharacteristically harsh. “How so?”

  “The legendary fortune of the Wayfairs. How they bear only one child per generation, and always produce a son.” His eyes softened. “Until you came along and tinkered with the master plan.”

  “Who cares about a master plan? After what Freddie did, my parents should’ve broken off contact. I assumed they’d written him out of their will. Who wouldn’t? They did stop speaking to him for about a year, no longer. Everything went back to normal.”

  “They forgave so quickly?” Indignation laced Daniel’s voice. “One year?”

  “Hey, I was just as shocked. I’d call Florida to see how my parents were doing, and my mother would slide in updates about Freddie’s life in California. I didn’t know how to react. Mostly I’d change the subject or keep the call short. But I knew she was hoping I’d patch things up with him too.”

  The pain of betrayal increased, knitting tightly against the yearning for Daniel’s embrace. The need for his reassurances—for more than friendly comfort—threatened her poise. But like her parents, Daniel played both sides. He wanted her to believe he had her best interests at heart.

  He was working for Freddie.

  Daniel smoothed her hair, apparently sensing the private battle she waged. He seemed fascinated by the task. Pride begged her to move out of reach. Exhaling a ragged breath, he outlined the sensitive skin of her ear with the lightest touch. The sheer pleasure of his touch rooted her on the sands.

  Another fluid expression, and he came to a decision. Without seeking permission, he folded her into his arms. She went to him stiffly, her arms locked at her sides.

  “When did your parents transfer ownership?” In a show of tenderness, he lowered his chin on her head.

  “A year after Freddie left, maybe a little longer. I can’t remember the exact date.” The heavy beat of his heart resounded in her ears. Her eyes drifting shut, she rested her cheek on the rising warmth of his chest. “My father called, said he’d made some decisions. Told me to look for the paperwork in the mail. Short call, with no explanation.”

  “They handed over half of the inn without insisting Freddie return the money?”

  “They didn’t want to lose their son.”

  “What about the harm to their daughter?” The breeze ruffled Daniel’s hair, swirling around the silence growing between them. When it became clear she’d give no reply, anger peppered his voice. “Back then, if I’d had a clue they’d let him off the hook, I would’ve called your parents. Made them listen to reason, convinced them to make you the sole owner of the inn. There’s so much I could’ve done.”

  Her anger at him wasn’t enough to squelch the bolt of pleasure his conviction sent through her. “What makes you think I’d let you fight my battles?” She let her hands find purchase around his hips.

  “Because I’d do a better job protecting you.”

  “I’m not a child. I can protect myself.”

  “Not against your parents you can’t. They’re good people, but they walk right over you. I don’t care about their ideas of Wayfair tradition and proud male heirs. You’re the heir. I would’ve fought for what’s yours.”

  The raw confidence of the statement nearly destroyed their tentative embrace. In his arms, she grew rigid.

  Daniel refused to let go. He held on, held her close with the power of his affection. Was it any wonder her emotions were more fragile than the foam in the surf? She’d grown up with wealth and privilege—and the poverty of second-class status. In a thousand subtle ways her parents had telegraphed a destructive lesson. By virtue of her gender, she wasn’t valuable. She wasn’t precious like her self-serving brother.

  Latching on to his sorrow, Daniel looked out over the lake. Moonlight frosted the waters a milky white. His thoughts were just as opaque, a muddle of confusion and regret.

  By helping Freddie, he’d failed her in a fundamental way. He’d proven himself no more trustworthy than her family.

  A situation he intended to remedy.

  “Linnie, please hear me out.” He balanced her chin on his thumb, searching for the means to open her heart. At last her eyes lifted, giving him the impetus to plow on. “This isn’t how I wanted to begin our relationship. I spent too many years waiting for you, waiting for our lives to calm down so we’d begin. I can’t undo past mistakes. I can swear I’ll use all my power to sway Freddie.”

  “Sway him to do what?”

  “If he won’t let you buy his shares outright, I’ll ensure he remains a silent partner. You have my promise.”

  Mischief combined with the amusement darting beneath thick lashes. “Who says we’re in a relationship?”

  That was all she’d heard? “I do,” he replied gruffly. The mirth in her eyes nicked his pride. “I’m done waiting. I want you. Assuming you don’t object, I plan to keep you.”

  Mulling this over, she lowered her mouth to the thumb he’d balanced beneath her chin. “I have a say in this? What a relief.”

  The sensation of her moist lips brushing across the rough pad of skin stoked the need rising in him. “Stop playing games. I’m serious.”

  “I’ve always thought of you as consistent. Are you also stubborn?”

  “Only when I have everything at stake.”

  To drive the point home, he captured her mouth. He meant to contain the kiss, to drink her in, then let her go. The intention crumbled when she sank against him. The taste of her intoxicated him.

  The self-discipline used to guide his life unspooled. Daniel allowed his reckless hands to range across her back.

  Lost in her taste and the quivering welcome of her body, he coaxed her down onto the sands. For the briefest moment her lashes fluttered. Then she relaxed beneath him, her hands smoothing down the arch of his spine, spurring him on, her caresses becoming bolder. Careful to keep the bulk of his weight on his elbows, he broke off the kiss to drag his mouth across the silken skin of her forehead before lingering on the beauty mark painted beside her mouth. Every inch of her face was open to his affection, every velvety inch of her throat.

  His self-control fading, he kissed her again. Then her thighs shifted temptingly beneath his. It was enough to drag him back to his senses.

  Regrouping, he said, “Should I do this properly? Ask you out to dinner?”

  The confusion ebbed in her eyes, replaced by an impish spark. “You got me down on the sand to make your big move? I’ll give you points. This strategy is more interesting than the standard text message.”

  “I’d never ask you out with a text. A call, definitely.” He couldn’t temper the eagerness filling his voice. “What do you say? The best place in town’s the Wayfair. The cuisine’s great, but we should go farther afield. Drive out of Sweet Lake, have an adventure.”

  “You’re really asking me out?” She pushed lightly on his shoulder. “Your timing needs work.”

  “You felt differently three seconds ago.”

  “Only because your kissing ability exceeds anything I’d imagined.”

  The compliment nearly eroded his resolve not to take her
right here on the sands. An issue no longer in play as her features tensed, altering the mood. With frustration he rose. She allowed him to guide her to her feet.

  Undeterred, he asked, “Should I ask when your brother leaves?”

  “If he leaves.”

  “There’s nothing holding him to Ohio, not even the Wayfair.” He nearly fumbled by mentioning Bryce and the upcoming surgery. “His business here concludes soon.”

  “I hope you’re right. Even if you are, I can’t have a dalliance while you’re working behind enemy lines.”

  “A dalliance?” Planting himself in her path, he fought to maintain a light tone. “Linnie, I’m not waiting until we’re old and grey. Something always gets in the way. We deserve a chance to see where this leads.” He dipped his face into her hair. “Why do you always smell so good?”

  On tiptoes, she brushed her nose across his. “Soap,” she teased. “The miracle cure.”

  He felt relief when he caught her fingers and she held on. “I want to make love to you,” he told her, swallowing down his pride. “We can’t take our relationship backward. What we had never would’ve been enough. You agree, don’t you?”

  The query loosed a sigh from her lips. “I do. But I can’t think about this until everything’s back to normal. Then we’ll see.”

  He hooked a curl behind her ear. “Not the answer I’d prefer.” Moonlight caught in the vibrant depths of her eyes. Her allure was enough to have him rethinking attorney-client privilege.

  Breaking the interlude, she asked, “Have an idea when Freddie will vacate my inn?”

  Daniel rocked back on his heels. “Freddie’s staying at the inn?”

  On the inn’s second floor, the thick, greenish glass of the windows caught the morning light. It was nearing lunchtime, but Freddie had yet to make an appearance. Linnie needed to muster her courage and confront him about the money.