“Well, well … this is a nice surprise.”
Priscilla couldn’t believe it! “What are you doing here?”
“Ah, you’ll have to forgive me for not recognizing you …” Dean’s voice trailed off as he took a step closer, his impossibly wide shoulders pushing open the door fully, his gaze immediately darting around the floor of the room. “You look a little different without your sunglasses.”
His perusal stopped the moment it landed on her bare toes, and his smile deepened as he slowly took his time letting his gaze travel up her legs. By the time he reached the edge of the towel that rode high on her thighs, a warm flush had enveloped Priscilla.
She should be annoyed at his deliberate scrutiny, but for some reason she was—pleased?
No, that couldn’t be right. Just because her ex had rarely taken his nose out of his financial journals, even during a conversation, didn’t mean she thought—that she felt—
“Or without your wet clothes,” he added.
* * *
Welcome to Destiny:
Where fate leads to falling in love
Destiny’s Last Bachelor?
Christyne Butler
CHRISTYNE BUTLER fell in love with romance novels while serving in the United States Navy and started writing her own stories six years ago. She considers selling to Mills & Boon® Cherish™ a dream come true and enjoys writing contemporary romances full of life, love, a hint of laughter and perhaps a dash of danger, too. And there has to be a happily-ever-after or she’s just not satisfied.
She lives with her family in central Massachusetts and loves to hear from her readers at [email protected]. Or visit her website, www.christynebutler.com.
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Contents
Chapter One
“You know that old saying ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer’? Well, I think there should be another line.” Priscilla Lennox had to raise her voice to be heard as she spoke into the tiny headset that permitted her to keep her hands on the wheel and off her cell phone. Added bonus? Not having to put the top up on her Mercedes convertible. “Keep at least a thousand miles between you and your family.”
“Well, don’t hold back, honey. Tell me how you really feel.” Lisa’s sweet voice still held that down-home Savannah-born-and-bred charm despite her years in Southern California. “Not that you need to explain this latest escapade of Jacqueline’s, bless her heart.”
No, Priscilla didn’t need to bother with the details. Her best friend had heard often enough about the mishaps and misadventures of Priscilla’s younger sister over the years. Not to mention how Priscilla had always wound up either being blamed for her sister’s messes or cleaning them up before the press got wind of them.
Or heaven forbid, their father.
“I’m guessing you haven’t seen the headline in the Entertainment World that came out today,” her friend added.
Priscilla waited for a moment before answering. She’d purposely avoided the press coverage as she made her way through Northern California, into Nevada and now zoomed down the highway just east of Salt Lake City. Was that enough time—and distance—to prepare for the craziness headed her way?
“No, go ahead and read it to me.” She hoped her words sounded causal as she released her tight grip on the steering wheel and flexed her fingers. Her hand was noticeably lighter now that the diamond she’d worn for the past six months was tucked away with the rest of her jewelry. Her right hand. “I’m braced and ready.”
“‘Commodities Millionaire Trades Good Deeds Sister for Good Times Sister.’”
Okay, the kick to Priscilla’s heart smarted for a moment, but then it faded to a dull ache. Shouldn’t she be more devastated by the clever turn of words? Maybe she was still in shock? After all, it wasn’t every day that a girl walked in on her boyfriend and her sister in a clinch so sizzling they could’ve been modeling for the cover of a romance novel—the kind sporting a half-naked man and a lady whose dress was undone all the way down to her perfect backside. Yeah, that was one mess Priscilla most definitely hadn’t stuck around to clean up.
“There’s a montage of photos, too. You with Jonathan on his yacht last summer, Jonathan and Jacqueline arm and arm on the red carpet at the gala a few nights ago, you backstage that same night—looking marvelous in a Lisa Ashland Original, I’ll shamelessly add—wielding that famous clipboard of yours.”
Great.