Operation: Reunited. Linda Johnston O.

year-and-a-half ago. Had kept it up, too—for a while.

      Then Vane had lost interest in the inn, at least as anything other than a place to further his scheme. He discouraged Alexa from spending money on it.

      “Actually,” she continued, hearing the defiance in her tone, “I plan to paint it at the end of the summer.” She wasn’t certain where that had come from. This place was hers, even if Vane was her partner.

      But the likelihood was that to survive, she would have to leave it behind.

      “Maybe I can come back and help,” John said. “I enjoy painting. But this place is really nice. Have you ever considered expanding? Opening a chain of hotels?”

      Alexa felt herself blanch. She stared at John. Did he know who she was? Who her parents were? Or was it an innocent enquiry?

      “My family used to own a hotel chain,” she said. “It got too…unmanageable. They’re down to one now, in Arizona. I want to keep things simple, too.” If only they were simple.

      “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” John took a step toward her. “Alexa, I still get the feeling that there’s something wrong. If you ever want a shoulder to cry on, I’ve got two I can lend.”

      Two very broad, substantial shoulders. And, heavens, how much Alexa wanted to take him up on his offer. Her eyes moistened. She hadn’t allowed herself to cry for a long, long time.

      But she caught herself. Almost laughed aloud. This was a very nice man. Kind and compassionate, a people person by profession.

      But she could not lean on anyone.

      And care for someone? She nearly snorted aloud. She had cared for Cole—deeply—and he had died. She had allowed herself to care, just a little, for Vane, and he had proven to be a monster.

      “Thanks,” she said brightly. “I’ll remember that.”

      Phantom suddenly stood at attention. Alexa looked in the direction of his gaze. Toward the lake.

      Minos Flaherty stood on their dock. He was back, damn it.

      What was worse, he was staring straight at them. Vane would get a report.

      And Alexa was certain she would pay for this very brief, very innocent, interlude with the kind and sexy John O’Rourke. At best, he might threaten her parents again. At worst, he would harm them, or her…or both.

      COLE DID NOT FOLLOW ALEXA into the house right away. He watched as Minos Flaherty strode up the grassy slope directly toward him.

      Cole didn’t like the guy. Didn’t trust him.

      But John O’Rourke liked everyone. And so, Cole plastered a welcoming smile on his face. “Hi,” he called.

      The short man didn’t return the smile. He just nodded. He seemed to be sizing John up. He didn’t appear impressed.

      That made Cole want to have some fun at the truncated thug’s expense. He pointed up toward the house. “Are you the handyman here? You might want to recommend a new paint job. I was just discussing it with Alexa.”

      Startled, he realized he was behaving as if Alexa had needed an excuse to be with him. As if she needed protection.

      But that was ridiculous. She had to be part of the plot.

      “I’ll tell Vane you said so.” Minos glanced toward the structure looming beside him and grimaced, as though the thought of fixing it up gave him ulcers.

      “Thanks. And if you want any other suggestions about improvements—” He didn’t get to finish, as Minos disappeared behind the inn.

      Cole stifled his laugh. He walked toward the B & B’s front entrance and went in.

      His laughter turned to bitter bile as he saw Alexa held tightly at Vane Walters’s side. They stood by the inn’s registration desk. Phantom explored the adjoining parlor, his nose to the rug.

      Vane was talking with some of the guests, a middle-aged couple who had been at the far side of the room at dinner the previous night. He turned toward Cole. “Oh, Mr. O’Rourke,” he said. “Do you know this area well? I was just telling the Smiths, here, about Skytop Lake Village.”

      “I know my way around,” Cole replied coolly, studiously avoiding Alexa’s eyes.

      That attitude would not do. John O’Rourke, home improvements glad-hander, would never sulk.

      “I know how to get there, at least,” he continued in a lighter tone. “That was where I ran into your very kind fiancée yesterday.” He smiled warmly at Alexa. She did not smile back.

      “Yes, she has a habit of picking up strays.” Vane softened his insult by grinning and squeezing Alexa tighter. Her return expression was something less than a smile. “Oh, come on, darling. You know how much I like your little habits.” He pulled her close and gave her a long, sexy kiss full on the lips.

      Cole fought the urge to haul her out of his arms and punch Vane right on that overactive mouth. Amused chuckles arose from the throats of the Smiths, distracting Cole.