From foes to friends to…forever?
Screenwriter Wyatt Taylor can’t let his dying father’s work on a book about century-old Ladera Inn by the Sea come to naught, even if fulfilling that promise means going toe-to-toe with the innkeeper’s spitfire daughter. His history with Alexandra Roman dates back to a competitive childhood rivalry, so he expects more of the same animosity. He must really be grieving to be caught off guard by Alex’s beauty and compassion.
For Alex’s part, working with Wyatt is unfamiliar territory. The sooner she helps him realize his father’s dream the sooner he’ll be on his way and she can get back to caring for her family. Yet all it takes is one unexpected kiss to teach her that sometimes change can be for the better. Much better.
“How about that? We must have set some kind of record.”
“A record?” he asked.
Alex nodded. “We’ve been talking for fifteen minutes and haven’t argued yet.”
Wyatt laughed, realizing she was right. “I’d better leave then, before the moment is ruined.” Amusement played along his lips.
“Good idea.”
“More agreement. This is some kind of record,” he marveled. He hesitated, overcome by bittersweet emotion before adding, “Too bad my dad’s not around to see it.”
Alex ached for his loss—and for her own. “Yes, too bad,” she echoed sadly.
Looking back, Wyatt wasn’t sure just what came over him. A wave of gratitude, no doubt. That and the devastating assaults of sorrow he was experiencing mingled together, temporarily taking away his ability to cope, to maintain a tight rein over himself.
It was as good an excuse as any.
Leaning forward, he placed his hand on her shoulder and then lightly brushed his lips against hers….
Dear Reader,
Welcome to a brand-new line and a brand-new family. I’m proud to be part of the launch of Harlequin Heartwarming originals.
This exciting new series inspired me to create the world of these four sisters helping their father run the inn that has been in their family for over 100 years.
I’ve often wondered what it might be like to run a bed-and-breakfast inn, something far more intimate than a hotel and a great deal more structured than, say, a frat house or hosting a group of relatives for the holidays. What sort of people would willingly do that? What kind of history would the inn that they’re running have? Would it be brand-new, entrenched in the history of the area, or—? I decided to arm myself with several books describing the various bed-and-breakfast inns of this country, then progressed to the internet for more recent photos of several of these places. What you have before you is the result, detailing life in one such inn for one such family. I hope you enjoy the result and that you all get a chance to someday take a little time and spend a weekend or so in a bed-and-breakfast inn—at the very least, having someone serve you a homemade breakfast and make your bed for you would be a pleasant change from your everyday life.
As always, I thank you for taking the time to read my book, and from the bottom of my heart I wish you someone to love who loves you back.
All the best,
Marie Ferrarella
Innkeeper’s Daughter
USA TODAY Bestselling Author
Marie Ferrarella
MARIE FERRARELLA
earned a master’s degree in Shakespearean comedy and, perhaps as a result, her writing is distinguished by humor and natural dialogue. This RITA® Award-winning author’s goal is to entertain and to make people laugh and feel good. She has written over 240 books for Harlequin/Silhouette, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide and have been translated into Spanish, Italian, German, Russian, Polish, Japanese and Korean. As of January 2013, she has been published by Harlequin for thirty years.
To
Marsha Zinberg,
with
deep affection
and respect
Contents
PROLOGUE
THE PATH FROM the back of the Ladera-by-the-Sea Inn to the small, private family cemetery seemed longer somehow today. Even though, as the inn’s current owner and head of the Roman family, he’d walked it countless times, especially in the twelve years since his Amy had been laid to rest. He came here whenever he wanted to share a moment or to just feel close to his late wife. To remember a time when he and Amy used to walk hand in hand here, content just to listen to the sound of the waves caressing the shore.
Today it was to share the news he’d just received by phone, and his heartache.
Richard stood in front of his wife’s tombstone the way he had so many countless times before, searching for a way to begin, to pour out what was in his heart without breaking down.