Carrying the garment bag that contained her glittery red gown, she checked in to her hotel. She luxuriated in a hot bath then dressed carefully. She didn’t need the money from any jewelry commission she might get while hob-knobbing, but she had a reputation to uphold. She was Marney Fields now. Successful jewelry designer. Several women would be wearing her commissioned pieces tonight. When they pointed to her, she wanted them to be proud they owned pieces designed by her.
As she stepped out of the elevator, Victor, the concierge whistled. “Ms. Fields, if I weren’t married, I drop to one knee right now and beg you to be my wife.”
She laughed. But men’s heads turned as she walked through the lobby to the portico where a limo awaited. Stupidly, Sheriff O’Neil popped into her head. And she wasn’t sure why. She didn’t want a man. Didn’t need a man.
And he obviously didn’t want her.
She tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder and smiled at the chauffer who closed the door behind her.
The limo ride took fifteen minutes. The driver handed her out, and she headed into the gallery without a backward glance. It never occurred to her to be embarrassed that she was alone. She’d made herself a success. On her own. Plus, she had the love and support of three wonderful friends in Chandler’s Cove. That was what life was really all about—connecting with people who liked you just as you were.
She snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and spent the next hour walking from display to display, examining paintings, considering sculptures, and eventually deciding to buy a bronze basket filled with shiny metallic apples for her office.
Satisfied with her purchase, she strolled through the maze of paintings, carvings, and metallic sculptures and figurines, chatting with people she knew. Some were customers. Some were women who wanted her to design pieces. Others were friends, people who had deserted her when she divorced Doug Stover, attorney at law, who —now that she was famous—had decided to forgive her for ending their marriage.
Luckily, she was gracious. She didn’t hold a grudge against them. Doug affected people oddly. He had a charisma that attracted everyone to him. He could get anyone to do just about anything he wanted. Manipulative and controlling, he’d actually thought she should stay after she’d discovered he’d been cheating. He’d dragged his feet along every step of their divorce, and ultimately she’d given him their condo for her freedom.
Her glass empty, she scoured the open first floor for a waiter. Spotting one walking away from her, she turned quickly and ran into a man. Her glass rammed into his very solid chest.
Looking up with a smile, she said, “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Then she froze. “Sheriff O’Neil?”
“Yes. If you’ll excuse me.” He turned away.
Her mouth hanging open slightly, she let her gaze follow him. Why not? The man was eye candy personified. She might have originally thought that she’d drooled over him because of his uniform, but seeing him in a tuxedo? With broad shoulders filling out his jacket and hair disheveled as if he didn’t give a damn what anybody thought of him, he was sex on a stick.
He disappeared into the thick crowd, and, shaking her head, Marney went back to her quest for more champagne.
“Wasn’t that Dell O’Neil?”
Overhearing the comment, she stopped walking. Two thirty-something women with big hair and skinny cocktail dresses stared in the direction Dell had gone.
“I wonder how his parents talked him into coming to this event?”
“I thought he’d disowned them.”
“Or they’d disowned him.”
“Or both.”
“I for one don’t care what happened. I’m just glad he’s back. Chicago society might not have missed him, but I did. He brings more sex appeal to these dull things than three or four of the other guys put together.”
The women laughed.
Marney’s face scrunched in confusion just as the crowd parted, and she spotted Dell again, standing next to an older man she recognized as renowned surgeon Dr. James O’Neil.
She remembered what the women had said about his parents talking him into coming to this event and she gasped.
Wow. Just wow.
Dell O’Neil was billionaire philanthropist James O’Neil’s son.
Dell glanced up, and their gazes connected. She smiled. A look of panic overshadowed his handsome features.
Well, well, well, the sheriff was keeping a secret from the good people of Chandler’s Cove.
Chapter Two
He approached her twenty minutes later as she studied a statue of a blue goat done by a new artist.
“Good evening, Sheriff.”
He winced. “Come on, haven’t you ever known anyone who was suffocated by their family?”
“Yeah. Me. And I ran to Chandler’s Cove too. But I didn’t have family responsibilities. No one was counting on me for contributions and glad-handing. I wasn’t rich.”
He sighed. “Neither was I when I left Chicago.”
“Which implies that you lost all your money, and now you’re rich again.” She laughed. “Tell me. How does one with family money lose it all when the rest of the family seems perfectly fine?”
He caught her elbow and dragged her to a dark corner, away from the crowd. “He marries the wrong woman.”
Though she knew all about bad marriages and bad spouses and should have sympathized, the way he’d insinuated that she’d faked an emergency to get him to her house still rankled. He deserved a little teasing. “Ouch, wife took you to the cleaners?”
“Yes. Now—” He leaned in a little closer. So close she could smell his aftershave and feel the masculinity rolling from him in waves. It seeped into her pores, sending heat shimmering through her.
Her breath stuttered in and out.
“I don’t think you’re in any position to be laughing at me.”
“Why? Because I think you’re good looking?” She chuckled. “Like that’s a big news flash to anybody. Every woman in the world is probably attracted to you. Outing me for agreeing with them isn’t much of a threat.”
He stepped away and combed his fingers through his hair. “Come on. Cut me a break. I don’t want my identity getting out in Chandler’s Cove.”
She almost told him that he didn’t have to worry. She wasn’t a snitch. But she wasn’t quite ready to give up the teasing yet. He’d refused to accept that she’d accidentally turned off her alarm. Worse, he’d thought she’d called him just to meet him. A few more minutes of teasing wouldn’t hurt. “I’m not sure why. Most people would be proud to come from the family you come from. You’re the black sheep.”
“No kidding.”
She feigned innocence. “Oh, that’s what you don’t want to get out.”
His pretty blue-gray eyes narrowed. “You think you hold all the cards here because I’m trying to keep my background private?” He stepped close again. “I’ve got cards you haven’t even seen yet.”
That made her laugh. For a guy who could dish it out, he sure couldn’t take it.
His face turned to stone. “You think this is funny?”
“I think this is hysterical.”
Before the word hysterical was fully out of her mouth, he swooped down and kissed her. His lips moved over hers roughly and though a tiny part of her brain told her to be insulted, all she could think to do was enjoy. His mouth was warm and firm, his lips practiced in the art of kissing. He nipped and sipped, then smoothed his mouth over hers, sending tingles of delight careening through her. Her insides warmed. Her body became pliant, boneless.
When his tongue slid into her mouth and the rough ridge sent an explosion of joy straight to her femininity, she didn’t even pretend to put up a fight. She melted against him.
Which caused her common sense to return. What was she doing? Dell O’Neil was an arrogant, conceited man. He’d thought she’d called 9-1-1 just to get to meet him. He hadn’t listened when she’d tried to explain.
She didn’t want anything t
o do with him.
Her hands flattened on his chest to push him away but they met a solid wall of muscle.
Oh, man. Really? Did her pride have to demand she break this delicious kiss?
She thought of the smug look on his face at her house and her boneless body solidified.
She pushed.
…
He stepped backward. He never let a sexual fog go so far that he didn’t recognize a “No,” but it took a few seconds for him to get his bearings.
The woman could kiss.
Then he realized who the woman was and he remembered why he’d kissed her, and he groaned internally.
Why didn’t he just give her a whole arsenal of ammunition to ruin his reputation in town?
“The next time you want me to shut up, just ask.”
She thought he’d kissed her to shut her up?
In a way he supposed he had. She was feisty and gorgeous in the shiny red dress that outlined curves so perfect they should be illegal, and, honestly, he hadn’t cared to hear her talk any more. His body wanted some action.
Which was stupid. Childish. He had much better control than this.
“Look, let’s just forget this happened.”
She yanked up the strap of her glorious red dress. “No argument from me.”
Turning, she headed out of their dark corner and disappeared into the crowd.
Damn it! He hadn’t gotten her promise to keep his identity a secret.
He forked his fingers through his hair. Nothing with this woman went the way it was supposed to.
…
The kiss confused Marney so much she decided not to stay at the fundraiser or even in Chicago. Though it was after ten, she took the limo back to the hotel, changed clothes, re-packed and drove home. Tomorrow morning’s visit with her parents would have to wait for another time.
After Doug, she’d vowed to stay away from demanding, controlling guys—and she suspected that control was exactly what the good sheriff was after—so why had she virtually melted for Dell O’Neil?
She parked her car in her garage, entered her house through the kitchen, and carried her suitcases and red sparkly dress upstairs. She showered, wrestled herself into boxers and a tank top, and just as she slid under the covers, she heard the noise again.
Damn it!
She refused to call 9-1-1 because they’d probably send her stupid next door neighbor to check it out. There was no way in hell she wanted to be at Dell O’Neil’s mercy again. She liked it too much.
Of course, he could still be in Chicago—
Oh, yeah, right. Unless he’d told his staff he was going out of town—highly unlikely since he kept that part of his life a secret—they’d call him on his cell phone and he’d know she’d called 9-1-1 again. He might even think she’d called to get him to her house.
She grabbed her smart phone from the bedside table and called her best friend Gabby Wilson—now Gabby Shepherd.
“Who is this?”
“It’s me. You’d know that if you ever looked at your caller ID.”
“What time is it?”
“Gabby, focus. I’m coming over to get Charlie.” She’d kept the pup Gabby was dog-sitting for the reclusive Nicholas Bonaparte while Gabby had been on her honeymoon, and she knew Charlie was a barker. He would alert her if there really was an intruder.
“The dog?”
“I keep hearing an odd noise in my house.”
“Call your next-door neighbor, the sheriff.”
She sucked in a breath. She’d told her three friends Gabby, Mia, and Jenny about hearing the noise and about Sheriff O’Neil being her next-door neighbor, but she’d left out the part about him being attractive. She almost told Gabby that he was still in Chicago but she bit her tongue. She didn’t owe the man a damned thing, especially not secrecy, but something inside her wouldn’t let her spill the beans about who he really was.
So she said, “Please. There was nothing the last time I called him. I don’t want to go through all the rigmarole of calling and having him come over and find nothing.”
“So you’d rather go through the rigmarole of waking me and T.J.?”
“Thanks. I knew you’d understand.”
She clicked off the phone and headed to Gabby’s to pick up her newly appointed guard dog.
…
Monday morning, Marney had just slid the key into her shop door when Charlie, Bonaparte’s adorable Jack Russell terrier, barked and strained against his leash. Her heart sped up out of fear, but when she turned and saw Sheriff O’Neil, her blood raced through her veins for an entirely different reason.
Ignoring him and her body’s automatic reaction to him, she inhaled sharply, twisted the key in the lock, and opened the door.
Charlie barked and growled.
“Charlie! Come on now! Stop that!” She hoisted her purse on her shoulder and lifted Charlie into her arms.
Sheriff O’Neil followed them into the shop.
“If you’re here to apologize, don’t bother. I’m fine.” She deposited Charlie on the glass display case along the back wall, disconnected the leash from his collar, and set him on the floor. He raced into her office, where he knew she kept the doggie treats.
She turned from the display case with a smile but Sheriff O’Neil’s pretty blue-gray eyes shot sparks of fire at her.
“Apologize? For what?”
“Well, we could start with the kiss. I think you owe me an apology for trying to bully me like that.”
“Bully you?” His mouth fell open, drawing her attention. Memories of kissing that mouth and being kissed by that mouth flooded her. She swallowed hard and jerked her eyes to his again.
“You were the one all but threatening to tell everybody in town about my family. If you think you worry about your new house, imagine having a hundred times the money you have. They get death threats. They worry about their kids being kidnapped.” He laid his hand on his chest. “I live here in this nice little town without any of those worries because no one really knows who I am. I won’t let you ruin that.”
“Humph. You’d think you’d be nicer to me then.”
“Nicer to a woman who all but threatened me?”
“I didn’t threaten you!” Tired of his tirade when there was no reason for it, she walked over to him. “I was teasing you. But now that I know you have no sense of humor I’ll stop. You don’t have to worry. I can be trusted.”
He snorted a laugh. “Right.”
Her chin lifted. “Hey! I had brunch with my friends yesterday. Three women I’m closer to than sisters and I didn’t breathe one word of your stupid secret. You could be James Bond for all I care.”
“I hope you mean that.”
He turned on his heel and stormed out, and she leaned against her display case. Dear God, that man was handsome. Even confronting her, he had left her breathless.
Charlie trotted out of her office and over to her. He blinked up at her.
She reached down and lifted him into her arms. “I know what you’re thinking. He’s the first man I’ve reacted to since Doug. I can’t just dismiss that. But he’s also arrogant and self-centered. He didn’t give a damn that he’d kissed me. But he virtually wanted me to sign a blood oath that I wouldn’t tell anybody about his real identity. He’d be a handful.”
Charlie barked.
“You think that makes him a challenge?” She laughed, loving the way Charlie barked again as if they really were having a conversation.
“And you wonder what kind of woman would it take to break through and find the real Dell?” She ruffled the fur between his ears. “I don’t know. But it’s insane to even consider it. I married one arrogant, self-important guy. I shouldn’t want another.”
Her door burst open and Gabby raced inside, her blond hair with the hot pink streak billowing around her. “Oh my God! I saw Sheriff O’Neil leaving! Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine.”
She ran over and took Charlie from Marney’s
arms. “You’re shaking.” She studied her face. “And your face is red—” she stopped. Her mouth fell open slightly. “Oh, my gosh! You’re attracted to him.”
Marney stepped away, unlocked her main display case, and dropped her keys into her purse. Damn Gabby and her sixth sense about people. “Don’t be absurd.”
But Gabby was already on the phone. She said, “Jenny, don’t ask questions. Just get over to Marney’s shop.” She disconnected the call, pushed another speed dial button, and gave Mia the same instructions. Within two minutes, petite, blue-eyed Mia and sensibly-dressed Jenny had joined Gabby in front of Marney’s display case.
Gabby didn’t waste a second. “I saw Sheriff O’Neil coming out of Marney’s shop this morning.” She grinned. “I think our Marney has a crush on him.”
Marney’s face heated. Without being able to tell them that she’d seen Dell at the fundraiser, their morning “meeting” had no explanation. But she absolutely didn’t want her friends thinking she had the hots for him. Because she didn’t. Not really. He presented a sort of challenge, but she’d already dismissed it. “Dell was just checking to see if everything had been okay at my house over the weekend. I told him it was, and he left.”
Gabby laughed. Jenny giggled. Mia, her normally reserved friend, shook her head. “You don’t think it’s a big deal that our handsome Sheriff checked up on you?”
The conversation would have been so much easier if she could just tell her friends who he was. But she’d promised, so she had to find another way out of this.
“Has any one of you stopped to realize he’s bossy—like my ex? Even if he wanted to get involved with me, and I don’t think he does, I don’t want to get involved with another man like Doug. I followed his every instruction for four years of marriage, and he cheated on me. Then because I was the one who insisted on a divorce, he held out until he got the condo. Wouldn’t I just be an idiot to get involved with another man like that?”
Chapter Three
The Billionaire's Matchmaker: An Indulgence Anthology (Entangled Indulgence) Page 8