He wanted her…

But he knew he should ignore every feeling he had. Because he was going to get his heart smashed. Again. Her next words proved it.

“You know why I left, Cameron. Why I couldn’t be with you then. You were getting serious and I couldn’t settle down.”

“So you left for New York and didn’t look back?”

“Yes,” she replied. “And in two weeks I’ll be going back. So, if anything happened it would—”

Cameron pushed off the counter. As he moved, the air shifted on some invisible axis. Hotter, thicker, as if a gust of something sinfully seductive had blown into the room.

“The thing is, Grace, if you want comfort—I can give you that. If you want sex—I can give you that. But tomorrow I’ll still be me. And you’ll still be the same woman who wanted to get away from here.”

She moved closer. “Tomorrow isn’t tonight. Make love to me.”

About the Author

HELEN LACEY grew up reading Black Beauty, Anne of Green Gables and Little House on the Prairie. These childhood classics inspired her to write her first book when she was seven years old, a story about a girl and her horse. She continued to write, with the dream of one day being a published author, and writing for Mills & Boon® Cherish™ is the realization of that dream. She loves creating stories about strong heroes with a soft heart and heroines who get their happily-ever-after. For more about Helen, visit her website, www.helenlacey.com.

Date with
Destiny
Helen Lacey

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Gareth

1966–2009

Forever in my heart

Chapter One

Grace Preston stared down at her bare feet peeking out from the hem of her long dress. Her sister’s beach wedding had been romantic and casual—exactly what the bride and groom wanted. But it had left her without shoes and feeling more than a little exposed.

Grace didn’t bother to pull up her dress as she walked toward the water’s edge. To hell with it—she’d never wear the halter style blue-green chiffon concoction again anyway. The water was cold and she ignored the wet sand clinging to her heels. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a great sliver of light across the ocean. The sound of cresting waves was faintly hypnotic and she relaxed a bit, taking a long swallow from the champagne flute in her hand. Once the glass was empty she quickly refilled it from the bottle she held in the other.

It wasn’t like she intended to get drunk. That wasn’t her style. She simply needed to be alone. Away from the cloistering effects of wedding guests and the party.

She’s been home for five days and already felt as though it was time to leave.

But I won’t.

She had a month. Four weeks to recharge and pull herself together. Not that she really believed she needed it. But her boss did. Her therapist did. She had her instructions—go home…go home and spend time with her family. Go home and forget the car crash that had killed a colleague and changed her life.

So, I’m here.

She took another sip, finishing her drink. One glass down. Maybe getting drunk would give her some relief from the heavy band of pressure pressing at her temples.

Relief now, perhaps. But regret in morning.

Grace Preston didn’t do hangovers. She did fourteen-hour days and skipped lunches and four-inch heels. Vacations were usually a long weekend in her apartment with a laptop and one eye on the stock market.

And Crystal Point, the small beachside Australian town where she’d been born and raised, was a long way from her office, her apartment, her Jimmy Choos and her life in New York.

She took a few steps and cautiously dipped her toes into the ocean. The sound of music and laughter and clinking crockery faded as she headed farther from the huge tent and the celebration of Evie and Scott’s wedding. The stars above seemed particularly bright, like they were mocking her, like they knew all her secrets.

Like they knew she wasn’t quite whole and there was a tiny window of emptiness aimed directly in the center of her chest. Maybe it was the happiness radiating from her sister that had Grace thinking things she wouldn’t normally think. With a new husband and a baby on the way, Evie had never looked happier.

While Grace had never been more alone in her life.

The fact her boss knew as much was the reason she was back. She was home to recharge and be with the people who loved her. Not that she was about to admit that to anyone anytime soon. her family thought she was simply home for the wedding and an extended vacation.

She kicked at the tide with her toes and gasped as cold water splashed up her calf, but then ventured in a little more. When she took a swallow of champagne the bubbles zinged up her nose and down her throat. A couple more glasses, she thought, and she might be on her way to sweet oblivion.

The idea made her laugh and she heard the sound echo and then ripple and somehow quietly disappear into the night as she took another step into the water.

Across from the river mouth, where the waterway met the sea, was Jay’s Island. It had been part of the mainland once, but years of sand trenching to allow sugar cane ferries to pass had created a gulf between the two banks. Now it was home to nesting herons and sea turtles. When she was young she’d swum the distance, not put off by the fast current that dragged many swimmers along. But she hadn’t done that in a long time.

Despite what some people believed, Grace didn’t hate Crystal Point. She just had little in common with the small beachside community that boasted a population of barely eight hundred residents. Not after so many years anyway. Time had a way of creating distance and building walls. Grace simply didn’t fit in. She never had.

“Don’t think I’m gonna jump in and save you if you fall in and get pulled down by the riptide, Princess,” she heard a deep and infuriatingly familiar voice say from behind her. “I have no intention of ruining a perfectly good suit because you can’t hold your liquor.”

Grace swiveled in shock at the sudden intrusion and almost toppled over. Clenching her toes into the sand for balance, she moved up the bank to where Cameron Jakowski stood about ten feet away.

She scowled and fought a guilty look at the glass and bottle clutched between her fingers. She absolutely would not rise to his Princess jibe.

“What do you want, Hot Tub?”

She saw his smile in the moonlight, knew instinctively that his velvet brown eyes would light up, ready for battle with her. They had always called one another names—always worked out new ways to needle each other. Hot Tub, Princess—silly names meant to antagonize.

“Just making sure you don’t drown.”

Grace shrugged her bare shoulders. “I didn’t realize you cared.”

He came closer. “It’s a wedding. I doubt Evie and Scott would want their celebration ruined by your carelessness.”

Grace’s temper simmered. “I’m not acting the least bit careless,” she said through clenched teeth. “And I’m perfectly sober.”

He looked at the bottle. “Prove it,” he challenged. “Walk a straight line.”

Grace bit back a scowl. “I’ll do no such thing. You’re not on duty now.”

He chuckled and Grace forced herself to not think about how sexy it sounded. Okay—so he had a great smile and a handsome face and filled out his police officer’s uniform as faultlessly as he did the suit he wore. She’d have to be comatose not to notice.

“So, why are you hiding out here anyway?”

Grace moved up the sand. “Who says I’m hiding?”

Cameron hooked a thumb over one shoulder. “The party’s that way.”

She shrugged. “Maybe I’m not in the mood for a party.”

“Nothing’s that simple with you.”

Grace bristled. “Leave me alone. I don’t want to argue with you.”

Cameron stepped closer. “Now I know there’s definitely something wrong with you. What’s eating you tonight?”

“Nothing,” she lied. “I’m my usual happy self.”

“And now you’re lying your shoes off.”

Grace tugged at the hem off her dress and exposed her feet. “I’m not wearing shoes,” she announced, holding herself upright despite a sudden surge of wooziness.

Of course, he knew that. He was a groomsman and she’d been partnered with him most of the afternoon. He’d already smirked when he’d spotted her bare feet and purple-painted toenails as she’d taken his arm to walk toward the altar.

Because Grace Preston didn’t bare anything in public.

And Cameron knew that.

She glared at him some more. “I don’t know why the men got to keep their shoes on. Anyway, I’ll probably step on a stonefish and that will be the end of me.”

Cameron laughed. “So much drama over a pair of missing shoes. Come on, I’ll walk you back.”

Grace shook her head. “No, thanks—I’ll stay here. I’ve had about all the marital bliss I can stand for one evening.”

He was close now and Grace could see the curious expression on his face. “Are you jealous Evie’s married?”

Was she? It seemed like everyone was getting married lately and getting their happily-ever-after. First her brother, Noah, had married Callie Jones and now, less than eight months later, Evie was tying the knot with Scott, Callie’s younger brother. But no, she wasn’t the marrying type.

“Certainly not,” she replied quickly and took another sip of her champagne. “I’m very happy for my sister. I just meant…” She stopped. There was no way she would explain anything to Cameron Jakowski. “Nothing. Leave me alone.”

He moved toward her again, only this time she didn’t step back. Toe-to-toe, he stood close to eight inches taller than her and without shoes it was impossible for Grace to stare him down without tilting her head up.

“And what if you go back into the water and get swept away by the current?” he inquired. “I don’t want that on my conscience. I’m staying.”

Grace shrugged. “Suit yourself,” she said as she moved up the bank some more and headed toward a small cluster of rocks. She sat on the largest one and refilled her glass. “Want a shot?” she asked, holding out the bottle.

Cameron followed her steps and took the bottle. “I reckon you’ve had about enough of that.” He dropped it onto the sand.

Grace watched the champagne seep away. “You’re ruining my evening.”

“Your evening looked well and truly ruined before you wandered off down here.”

She frowned. “Are you spying on me?”

Cameron laughed. “Hardly—but you did bail on our dance.”

“I didn’t want to dance,” she told him flatly. “With you or anyone else,” she added.

Being partnered with Cameron for the entire celebration had been more than she could stand. Not only because she wasn’t in any mood to combat his sarcasm or insults, but because the happy smiles and animated chatter of the wedding party had felt like a cloistering blanket around her shoulders. Since the accident she’d become less adept at handling crowds. Less inclined to make pointless conversation.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to open up a bit.”

Grace almost choked on her champagne. Was he reading her mind? “To you? You’re joking, right?”

He shrugged. “Why not?”

“Because you’re you.” She shook her head. “And you and I are like…oil and water.”

He stepped closer and thrust his hands in his pockets. “It’s a double-edged sword,” he said quietly.

Grace stared into her glass. “I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean.”

“Sure you do,” he flipped back. “Admit it, Princess— fighting with me gets you all worked up.”

Grace wasn’t admitting anything. “You’re imagining things. Not everything’s about you. And stop calling me Princess.”

“Stop calling me Hot Tub.”

Gridlock.

As usual.

He didn’t move. He stood in front of her, smiling, making Grace so mad she was tempted to toss her remaining drink in his direction. For sixteen years they’d been stuck in this groove—hurling insults, sticking it to one another at every opportunity.

But a lifetime ago it had been different. He was her brother’s best friend and because of that relationship she’d known him since she was five years old. She’d liked him back then. He hadn’t teased her for her bookish ways as her brother did. By the time she was preparing to leave for boarding school liking him had turned into a crush. But she didn’t dare admit it or imagine he felt the same way. She left for school and took her silly dreams with her. Nothing had prepared her for the night of her sixteenth birthday when he’d unexpectedly kissed her for the first time. When school was over she’d returned to Crystal Point to take a break before she headed off to college and in those few months they’d dated one another. Cameron Jakowski had been her first real boyfriend. Her first kiss. The one man she’d never quite been able to forget.

“What’s really going on with you, Grace?”

Her back straightened, shoving her into the present. “Spare me your fake concern.”

He stepped closer. “It’s not fake.”

Grace didn’t believe him. “Like you care?”

He laughed. “C’mon, Grace—lighten up. You’re not in your swanky office now. There’s no one to impress by pretending you’ve got it all together.”

Grace stilled. His words hit a raw nerve. Because she’d heard the same ones from the therapist her boss had insisted she visit. But Cameron didn’t know that. No one knew. The terrible accident and the month afterward where she’d returned to work and pretended none of it had happened, or the way she’d spectacularly unraveled in front of a client. She needed to lie through her teeth—for her own sake. “I always have it together—you know that.”

“Do I? I know that you’ve been hanging around down here for the past hour. I know that you’ve barely cracked a smile all afternoon, at your own sister’s wedding. I know that you’re unhappy even if you don’t have the courage to admit it.”

Grace glared at him, hating she felt so transparent in front of Cameron, hating he could see through her. “And I know that if I admit to anything you’ll just use it against me. No, thanks.” She got to her feet and stumbled.

He grasped her arm quickly. “Steady,” he said as he held her.

Grace tried to pull away but he held her firm. Something uncurled low in her belly, warming her blood. A familiar sensation she experienced whenever he was close. It unnerved her and she fought the feeling. “Let me go.”

“You’ll fall over.”

“So, I’ll fall.” She was suddenly powerless as one strong arm came around her waist.

“I’d catch you,” he said quietly.

Grace frowned. “Let me go…please.”

But she wasn’t afraid. She’d never feared Cameron. Despite their differences, she’d always trusted him. Grace felt the nearness of him and fought the sudden warmth spreading across her skin. That he could do this to her—make her boil with fury one moment and burn with awareness the next—only added to her resentment and determination to keep as far away from him as possible. He was the only man she’d ever known who’d been able to do that to her. The only man she’d ever thought could see through her, know her and work her out.

“Don’t…”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You are. You do. You always do. I just want…” She stopped, stalled and felt herself get dragged into meeting his eyes. She was flustered, uneasy. “I can’t…”

“What is it?” he asked softly. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

Grace’s resistance crumbled. The champagne she’d had suddenly freed up her tongue. “I just…I don’t belong here,” she admitted and pulled herself from his grasp as she stepped backward. “I don’t belong anywhere.”

Cameron’s hands burned from the feel of Grace’s skin and he clenched his fists at his sides. The pain in her voice knocked through him, settling behind his ribs in a way that made him think about every feeling he’d had for her—and buried.

“What do you mean?”

She turned away, clutching her arms around herself. “Nothing,” she said quietly.

Cameron pushed the heels of his shoes up from sinking in the sand and pressed on. “What do you mean you don’t belong?”

Grace twirled around and her long dress billowed around her knees. “Why do you care?”

Why indeed? He shouldn’t. Grace was nothing but trouble. A workaholic ice princess who had little time for anyone. Me included. He’d found that out the hard way. Beautiful beyond words, smart and independent—and about as warm as an Arctic winter. The perfect antidote for all his fantasies. Wanting her was about as sensible as wanting acid rain.

He shrugged. “Friendly concern.”

Her beautiful face looked almost luminescent in the moonlight as she shot him a death stare. “Don’t be nice to me,” she said quietly, looking suspicious. “We’re not friends and I just—”

“We were more than friends,” he said and took hold of her hand despite his best intentions to not touch her. “Once.”

She stared at their linked hands and this time, she didn’t pull away. Cameron’s fingertips tingled. He knew that would happen if he touched Grace…expected it…didn’t like it one bit but chalked it up to chemistry and tried not to let it mess with his mind. Over The years there had been the odd touch between them, the chance gesture of hands brushing…and every time it was the same. The same vibration rattled inside him, over his skin, through his blood. He knew it wasn’t like that for her, of course. Grace was supercool and controlled, with perfectly straight dark hair, immaculate clothes and haunting green eyes—like a mannequin on display. A mere touch wouldn’t jangle Grace. But he remembered what it was like to touch her, to kiss her, to hold her in his arms. Those memories were burned into his soul.

As expected, she pulled away. “A lifetime ago.”

Her dismissal cut deep. She’d left him without looking back all those years ago and as much as he wanted to deny it, that rejection still stung. He smiled because he knew it would infuriate her. “So, explain what you meant about not belonging anywhere?”

“No. It was nothing.” She shrugged lightly. “And now, if you don’t mind, I need to get back to the party.”

He didn’t believe her for a second. So he pushed. Because he could. Because he wanted to know what was going on inside her beautiful head. “So, has this got anything to do with that suit you’ve shacked up with?”

Her lips came together. “Erik,” she said after a moment. “We broke up a year ago. And we were never shacked up. We both kept our own apartments.”

She crossed her arms. The movement pushed her breasts upward and Cameron did his best to ignore the swell of cleavage rising up and down with each breath she took. He’d never met the other man, since Grace had kept him under wraps in New York. But Cameron had heard about him from her brother. He was stupidly pleased the suit wasn’t in the picture anymore. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“Because it’s a moot point.” Grace scowled, but somehow managed to still look beautiful. “And I really don’t want to talk to you about my…love life.”

Cameron bristled. Did he even think Grace capable of love? “So you loved him?”

“No,” she replied swiftly. “I meant…I meant I have no intention of talking to you about him. Now, would you ignore everything I’ve said and leave me alone?”

Cameron wanted to laugh. “Ignore you? Yeah, right.”

Her gaze sharpened. “Ignoring me isn’t usually a problem for you. Except of course when you’re making fun or insulting me.”

“It goes both ways, Grace.”

She moved her feet and seemed to come a little closer. “I guess it does.” She dropped her arms. “It only happens with you.”

“Do you ever wonder why?”

She raised one perfectly arched brow. “Why would I bother?”

“It might explain one of the great mysteries of the world.”

She laughed humorlessly. He could sense her thinking of some kind of cutting retort and wasn’t disappointed. “I don’t want to rain on your monumental ego, but I really don’t have the time to waste wondering about things like that.”

“So you never think about it?”

She stilled. “About what?”

“You and me?”

“We were over a long time ago. It was a silly teenage summer romance. I hardly remember.”

Her response pushed his buttons. Because he didn’t quite believe her. The tension between them had never waned. Every time she returned to Crystal Point, every time they spoke, every time he caught her stare from across a room, the awareness between them was still there. He straightened his shoulders. Down deep, in that place he’d shut off because it stirred up a whole lot of hurt, Cameron remembered what it felt like to want her so much it haunted his dreams. “Maybe you need a reminder.”

She faced him with an indignant glare. “And what exactly do you propose?”

“Propose?” He smiled. “Is that what you’re after, Princess—a proposal? Couldn’t you get the suit to the altar?”

Her green eyes flashed. “I have no desire or plans in that regard. I’d think you’d know that better than anyone.”

He did. He wasn’t likely to forget. They’d started dating when she’d finished high school. She’d come home from boarding school that final time and he’d waited two weeks before asking her out. Three months into their relationship she’d bailed. She wanted a career and a different life…a life that didn’t include a small-town police officer. A life that didn’t include him or marriage or the possibility of children in the future. She’d made her intentions abundantly clear. Grace Preston wanted a career. And that’s all she wanted. She’d left Crystal Point for New York without looking back.

Except for now. This Grace was someone new. Someone who didn’t seem like she had her usual ice running through her veins. Grace never did vulnerable. And Cameron wanted to know more.

“The corporate life is still giving you everything you need, is it?” he asked, referring to her highly successful job as a finance broker.

“Of course.”

“So your little outburst earlier, what was that about?”

Her brows came up. “Are we back on that subject again? It was nothing. Forget it.”

“And let you off the hook?” He rocked on his heels. “No chance.”

“Haven’t you got anything better to do with that mouth of yours than run off with it at me about my life?”

He did. Absolutely. And her words were like a red cape to a bull.

“Did you have something in mind?”

“No, I don’t,” she said with a caustic smile. “And don’t get any ideas.”

He laughed at her prickles. Only Grace could make him do that. Only ever Grace. “I could kiss you,” he teased. “That would shut me up.”

She stepped back. “Don’t even think about it.”

It really was all the challenge he needed and Cameron moved closer. “Grace, you know me better than that.”

Her green eyes were alight with fire and defiance. “You’re right, I do know you. I know you’ve got a reputation for nailing anything in a skirt. The last thing I want to be is a notch on your bedpost, Jakowski…so back off.”

“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” Cameron placed his hands on her shoulders. She didn’t resist. Didn’t move. “Kiss me, Grace?”

She shook her head slightly. “No.”

The air shifted, creating a swift, uncommonly hot vacuum which somehow seemed to draw them closer. Their bodies brushed and it spiked his blood. He shouldn’t want this…shouldn’t do this. But everything about Grace Preston took him to another level of awareness. It was almost primitive in its intensity and it made him forget all his good intentions to stay as far away from her as possible.

“Then I’ll kiss you.”

“I won’t kiss you back,” she whispered, but he felt her slide a little closer.

Cameron’s libido did a wild leap as he moved his arms around her, bringing them together. “Sure you will.”

“I won’t,” she said boldly. “I hate you, remember?”

“You’ll get over it,” he said smoothly and moved one hand to her nape. For twenty years he’d wanted her like no other woman. For sixteen years he’d been angry at her for breaking his heart.

Grace stared up at him, her green eyes shining and wide in her face.

She looked more beautiful than he’d ever seen her. More desirable. More everything. Without thinking…with nothing but feeling and the need to suddenly possess her, Cameron claimed her lips with his own.

Chapter Two

I will not make out with Cameron Jakowski.

Too late. Grace allowed his mouth to slant over hers and her breath left her sharply.

Maybe just for a moment…

Because he still knew how to kiss. And she hadn’t been kissed by Cameron in such a long time… .

Her resistance faded and she opened her mouth, inviting him inside. Blood rushed low down in her belly, spiking her temperature upward like a roller coaster moving way too fast. Grace floated along and was quickly caught up in the deep-rooted pleasure which unexpectedly tingled across her skin. The kiss deepened and Grace felt his tongue roll gently around hers. It was so incredibly arousing she couldn’t prevent a low moan from escaping deep in her throat.

I should stop this…right now. But she didn’t. She just let herself float on a sigh and kissed him back. Her arms moved upward and she curled her fingers into his shoulders. The movement brought their bodies together and Grace melted against him. Strong and safe. The words spun around in her head and rocked her to the core. Because she knew she’d only ever felt that way with Cameron. Not with Erik. Not with any man she’d ever been with.

His arms came around her and one hand settled on her hip. And still he kissed her. Grace clung to him as heat charged between them. His touch became firmer and he bunched a handful of her dress in his fist. The tempo between them altered slightly, and the hot surge of desire fanned to life.

He said something against her mouth—her name—something…she wasn’t sure. But it fueled the growing need she had to feel his touch. She lifted her leg and wrapped it against him. Her dress rose up and she shuddered when his hand made contact with the soft skin behind her knee. It felt so good to be with him like this, even though some faraway voice told her it was madness. Every part of her came alive when he touched her and she arched her back with a hazy, wanting compliance.

“Grace,” he said, leaving her mouth for a moment. He trailed a line of kisses across her cheek and toward the sensitive spot below her ear. “I think it would be a good idea if we stopped… .”

Grace turned her head so their lips met again. She didn’t want to stop. She only wanted to feel. “No,” she whispered into his mouth. “Don’t stop.”

“You’ll hate me tomorrow,” he said softly against her craving lips.

“I hate you now…”

She felt his smile against her mouth.

He’s right, we have to stop…

Only Cameron’s touch was mesmerizing and his kiss had her longing for more. His fingertips burned across her skin in an erotic trail, moving higher, and the blood in her veins boiled over in a powerful surge of narcotic pleasure. She felt his hand on the top of her thigh and she pushed closer. He was obviously as hotly aroused as she was and the notion drove Grace beyond rational thought, beyond reason. His palm curved around her bottom and he drew her hard against his body. Need uncurled low down, liquefying her bones. She groaned as his mouth sought hers again and kissed him back with a hunger that startled her, entwining her tongue with his. She was dazed, on fire, out of control. Grace’s knees almost gave way when his fingers traced the edge of her lace panties. I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t feel this turned on. But she was so aroused, so completely oblivious to anything other the sudden and unexpected need to be taken to places she suspected he’d effortlessly be able to take her.

But reality intruded and brought her back to earth with a resounding, wrenching thud.

The music resonating from the wedding reception area came to an abrupt halt and the silence was suddenly deafening. “Oh, my God,” Grace moaned as she jerked her mouth from his. “My speech!”

Cameron released her. “What?”

Grace staggered back and shoved her dress down her thighs with shaking hands. “I have to give a speech. I’m the maid of honor. I have to get back.”

He looked annoyingly calm. “Okay, we’ll go back.”

“No,” Grace said on a rush of breath. “I’m not walking back up there with you. I look like…” She pushed a hand into her hair and was relieved to discover that the up style was still in its right position. But her blood raced, her breath was shallow and she was certain her mouth looked as though it had been well and truly plundered. “I must look like I’ve been—”

“You have been,” he agreed quietly, seeming completely cool and relaxed. “Don’t stress, Princess. You look fine—as picture-perfect as always.”

Grace crossed her arms and glanced toward the reception area. The big white tent stood out like a beacon in the moonlight. She heard someone speaking into a microphone and quickly recognized her father’s steady voice. “I need to get back. And don’t follow me.”

He didn’t respond immediately. He just looked at her. Looked through her was more the point. Humiliation burned across her skin like an out-of-control brush fire.

This was not supposed to happen. I didn’t come home for this. Nothing will stop me from getting my life and career back on track.

He grabbed the bottle and glass from the sand. “Let’s go,” he said quietly.

Grace considered some kind of cold retort, but failed to find one.

Cameron Jakowski had his hand up my dress.

“All right,” she said with a deliberate tilt of her chin and tried not to think about how good his hand had felt. “We won’t ever mention this again.”

“Sure we will.”

Grace lifted her hem fractionally and took a few steps up the sand. “We won’t,” she said defiantly. “I won’t. I intend to forget this ever happened.”

“Good luck with that.”

Grace stomped along the sand, headed for the boat ramp and walked back toward the reception. As she’d suspected, her father’s proud speech was in full swing and Grace circumnavigated the huge tent and slipped through an opening behind the wedding table as discreetly as she could.

But Evie’s hawkeyed radar caught a glimpse of her immediately and Grace did her best to squash a fresh wave of embarrassment from heating her cheeks. Evie raised both her brows inquiringly and Grace managed a barely decipherable shake of her head. It didn’t help that Cameron chose that moment to make his entrance through the same opening.

Busted…

The look on her sister’s face was unmistakable. She knew Evie would demand answers at some point. That was Evie’s way. Grace steeled herself with a deep breath and took her conspicuously empty seat at the table. Cameron did the same a few seats away and she used every inch of effort to not look at him. Instead, she concentrated her attention on her father’s heartfelt speech.

When it was her turn to say a few words, Grace stood and took the microphone from her father and softly kissed his cheek. All the guests clearly waited for her to speak. And she meant to. Only she made a fatal mistake and glanced at Cameron. And damn him—he smiled, winked and made her forget every word she’d planned to say in honor of the bride and groom.

Nothing came out, only a squeak, a kind of strangled sound that a distressed cat might make.

And it was pain-in-her-neck, thorn-in-her-side Cameron Jakowski’s fault.

Supercool Grace Preston was at a loss for words. Any other time Cameron might have been happy about that. But tonight…not so much. He could still taste her lovely mouth; still feel the silky texture of her skin against his hands.

One minute they were talking, the next they were kissing like a couple of horny teenagers. Cameron couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like that. The last time he’d done that.

And he certainly hadn’t expected to do it with Miss Icy Britches.

He’d mostly kept his hands to himself when they were dating. They’d made out plenty of times—but never quite like what had happened on the beach. She’d wanted to wait to make love and he’d respected her wishes, although he’d imagined a future together—a wedding, a wedding night. Until Grace had informed him of her big plans for a career and a future that didn’t include Crystal Point or the small-town police officer who wanted to marry her one day.

But right now, she didn’t look like the Grace he’d come to resent. It was easier that way, easier not thinking about her perfectly beautiful face and body. And yet his skin felt tight watching her, waiting for her to speak. She was off balance, askew, and he knew it wasn’t the champagne doing damage.

It churned something inside him, thinking he was responsible for the kind of hazy, almost lost look on her face as she stared into the microphone. He smiled again, different this time, without mockery, with only the intent to calm her obviously fractured nerves. She met his gaze and they remained like that for a moment, linked by some invisible thread that had nothing to do with the searing kisses they’d shared, or the years of thinly veiled antagonism that had come to define their relationship. He saw her relax, watched as her jaw loosened and then she began to speak.

“Tonight is a celebration,” she said and then swallowed hard, as though the words were difficult to say. “Of love. Of trust. Of the commitment between two people.”

She went on to talk about the bride and groom, speaking clearly and concisely as she wished the newlyweds a long and happy life. Cameron wondered if she meant it. He’d never heard her speak about love before. When she was done she returned to her seat and didn’t spare him another look.

Dessert was served after that and Cameron pushed the sugary sweet around on his plate. The dancing started again and the woman beside him dug him in the ribs with her elbow, but he was in no mood for that either. He declined her invitation and managed a smile when she scooted off her chair. Mary-Jayne Preston was a pretty brunette with amazing green eyes—and she was Grace’s younger sister.

Grace…

She didn’t like him. He didn’t like her. But he’d wanted her and loved her most of his adult life. He thought he was over it. Thought he had it under control.

Jackass…

“Why do you look like you want to be somewhere else?”

Cameron turned his head. Noah Preston. His best friend. And Grace’s older brother. “You know me and weddings,” he replied casually.

The other man ducked into the empty chair beside him. “Are you tempted to take the walk yourself?” Noah asked.

He shrugged to disguise the truth. Because he did want to get married. He wanted a wife and kids and the whole deal. Cameron longed for a family of his own. He was thirty-six years old and had dated a succession of women, none he saw for more than a few months. And none who invaded his deepest dreams like Grace Preston.

He’d built a house designed for a family and lived in it alone. Dated women he knew weren’t going to figure permanently in his life. For a long time he’d avoided thinking about marriage and family. Once Grace left Crystal Point he’d pushed his focus into his career as a police officer and tried to forget about her. And their ongoing resentment for one another had fueled that focus. But now he wanted more. More than an empty house when he came home after a long shift at work, more than an empty bed. Or one filled occasionally with someone he barely knew.

He wanted what his parents had. He wanted what his best friend had.

“It’s not as bad as you think,” Noah said easily. “Actually, it’s the smartest move I ever made. You just need to find the right woman.”

Noah had married Callie Jones eight months earlier and the stunning, blue-eyed, California horse-riding instructor had transformed his friend’s life. His four children had a new mother and Noah had the love of a woman he adored. And with Callie’s brother, Scott, now married to Evie, it seemed like everyone around him was getting their happily-ever-after.

Just not me.

It made him think of green eyes. Grace’s eyes. Noah would have a fit if he knew what he was thinking. Or what he’d been doing with her down by the beach.

“I never said it was bad.”

Noah laughed. “I’m sure there’s some sweet, easygoing girl out there who—”

“I don’t want easygoing,” he said swiftly. “Or sweet.”

Grace again. Because Grace wasn’t either of those things. She was smart and independent and reserved and coolly argumentative and…

And she’s the only woman I’ve ever wanted.

Noah laughed again. “Can’t say I blame you. I love my wife’s spirit.” There was a gleam in his friend’s eyes. “Makes life more interesting.”

“I’ll bet,” Cameron said agreeably.

“Were you with Grace earlier?”

Cameron shot a glance at his friend. “For a minute,” he said and pushed aside the nagging guilt hitting him between the shoulder blades.

“Something’s going on with her,” Noah said. “She said she’s taking some time off work. But she’s not talking about why, not even to Evie or our mother. Maybe breaking up with that attorney has something to do with it.”

Cameron remembered what she’d said about the suit and sensed she wasn’t all that broken up about it. But what she’d said about not belonging—now that, he was sure, had something to do with her return home. Because it was completely unlike Grace to say a thing like that. Noah was right—something was going on with her. The Grace he knew didn’t show vulnerability. She was ice-cool and resilient. At eighteen she’d walked away from him and Crystal Point and moved to New York and had been there ever since, returning once or twice a year at the most. That was the Grace Preston he understood. Not the vulnerable one moment, hotter than Hades the next kind of woman who’d kissed him back like there was no tomorrow.

Wanting her had made every other woman he’d known pale by comparison. And now he knew one thing—he either had to get Grace out of his head for good…or get Grace in his bed and in his life.

She was home, on his turf. Maybe he had a shot. The way she’d kissed him gave him some optimism. That kind of response wasn’t fake. And he knew Grace. She wouldn’t pretend. Whatever was going on with her, Cameron was determined to find out. She’d resist and fight. She’d make things impossible. She’d cut him down with icy barbs and indifference.

Suddenly that seemed like one hell of an interesting challenge.

Cameron’s gaze centered on Grace. She was with Evie, talking close. His shirt collar got uncomfortably tight and irritation uncurled in his chest. Because he would bet right down to his boots that they were talking about him.

“So, what happened?”

Grace tried to escape her sister’s viselike grip on her wrist but failed. Evie was persistent when she wanted something. She loved her sister and Evie was the one person she could really talk to. But not about this. Not about Cameron.

“Nothing. We were just talking.”

Evie’s dramatic brows rose. “Well, I imagine you were doing something with your tongues.”

Grace flushed and tacked herself at Evie’s side to hide from Cameron’s view in case he looked her way. Her sister’s seven months pregnant belly was a good shield. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Evie chuckled. “Oh, no—you don’t get out of it that easy. I want details.”

“I won’t say what…” Grace’s response faded on her lips. “Okay,” she admitted. “So we might have…”

“Might have?” Evie interrupted without batting a lash.

“We kissed,” she whispered into her sister’s ear, feeling about sixteen years old. She certainly wasn’t about to admit to anything else. “And that’s all I’m saying.”

Evie hauled Grace into the corner so they had more privacy. “You kissed Cameron?” she squealed. “Oh, my God! I can’t believe it.”

Neither can I.

“Well, I mean I can believe it,” Evie said in a wicked whisper. “Did it bring back a whole lot of memories?”

Of course it did. But she wasn’t about to say that. Grace regretted ever telling her sister about the three-month relationship she’d had with Cameron—about the kisses and gentle touches and soft moans as they made out in the front seat of his car. Because it brought back other memories as well—the way she’d left, the way she’d run when she’d sensed he was getting serious. It was so long ago. In a different life. Wanting Cameron now was sheer madness. It was champagne that had made her behave so impulsively. And she hadn’t been with a man since forever. No wonder she’d acted like she did. She only hoped no one else saw their conspicuous entrance. The last thing she wanted was the Crystal Point rumor mill churning out theories about what had happened between her and the charming and popular Sergeant Jakowski down by the beach.

Everyone liked Cameron. She knew some of what he did in the community—the volunteer work at the surf club, the time he spent with kids from the Big Brothers Big Sisters program. An all-around good guy. Honest, honorable and socially conscious. Grace knew it about him and had always felt like he was rubbing her nose in the fact. Irrational as it was, he made her feel selfish and, worse…self-absorbed. Like her life was meaningless and superficial. He never said it of course, rarely spoke to her unless to demean her fondness for pricey footwear or call her Princess in that infuriating way.

“Can I steal my beautiful bride away for a dance?” Scott Jones approached and took Evie’s hand.

“Of course,” Grace said and smiled when she saw the glow on her sister’s face. Evie had found true love with the handsome, California firefighter. “We were done anyway.”

Evie smiled. “We’ll talk later,” she said and allowed herself to be swept away.

Grace remained where she was and studied the crowd for a moment. The usual suspects were in attendance and a few she’d never met before, mostly friends and colleagues of the groom who’d traveled from Los Angeles. She spotted her younger sister Mary-Jayne, or M.J. as she was affectionately called, dancing closely with Gabe Vitali, the best man and cousin of the groom. She was supposed to have been partnered with the outrageously good-looking American, but M.J. had pleaded they swap groomsmen and Grace agreed, unable to refuse her sister’s request.

“They make a cute couple.”

Grace froze. Cameron had approached and edged alongside her. She glanced at him and he nodded toward M.J. and Gabe. “I’m no judge.”

“And yet you’re usually so good at it.”

It was a dig, but he was smiling so she let it pass. She wasn’t about to have an argument with him in front of so many people. “Did you want something?”

“Just to see how you were doing.”

Grace raised both shoulders. “As you can see, I’m perfectly fine.”

“Good speech by the way.”

“Thank you.” She took a deep breath. No thanks to him. “I should get back to—”

He laid one finger against her wrist. “I think we should talk, Grace.”

Awareness crept along her skin and she tingled where they touched. “I’d rather not.”

“So, where are you staying?”

Grace swiveled on her heels to face him. “At Evie’s.”

“While she and Scott are on their honeymoon?” His brows came up. “Are they leaving you in charge of the B and B?”

The query in his voice was skeptical. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m not totally inept, you know.”

He smiled to expose perfectly straight teeth. “I think it’s good of you to help out.”

She pulled away from his touch, but Grace couldn’t ignore the way he watched her and her body was quickly on high alert.

“So, shall we resume our earlier conversation?” he asked.

Grace stepped back. “Don’t push it.”

“You know, you look really beautiful when your cage is rattled.”

“You’re an ass, Jakowski.”

“And you’re hiding something,” he replied. “Whatever it is, Grace, you may as well come clean.”

Heat crept up her neck and she hated that he could do that. “If there was anything wrong, I certainly wouldn’t be sharing it with you.”

“Your family is concerned about you. Noah thinks you’re nursing a broken heart after breaking up with the suit.”

“I’m not.”

“I know.”

He said the words with such arrogant authority that Grace glared at him. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act as though you know or care. I’ll talk to my brother.”

“When?”

Grace’s skin burned. “When I’m ready.”

“You’ve been home almost a week, seems to me like you would have had plenty of opportunity to tell your family what’s going on.”

“Stay out of it,” she warned.

“Or what?” He chuckled. He was toying with her. As usual. “Ah, Princess, you’re about as wound up as a spinning top at the moment.”

“No thanks to you,” she fired back and crossed her arms.

He smiled again. “By the way, you owe me a dance.”

Dancing? After what had happened on the beach she had no intention of falling into his arms again. “You don’t have a chance of getting me on the dance floor.”

“Things have a way of changing,” he said and gently took hold of her elbow. “As we discovered earlier.”

The kiss. The touching. The insane desire that had taken hold. Of course he’d remind her about it. “Don’t imagine for one minute that we’ll be repeating that craziness anytime soon.”

“Are you sure about that, Grace?”

She stuck out her chin. “Positive.”

“Such confidence,” he said in that vague, annoying way of his. “So, about that dance?”

She clung to her resolve. “No.”

“I could beg and embarrass you.”

Grace refused to react. “You mean embarrass yourself. And surely there are other women here you can try to charm the pants off other than me.”

He laughed and she hated that a few people looked in their direction. “Is that what you think I’m doing, Grace? Trying to get your pants off?”

She cast him a sharp look. “Try your best, Hot Tub.”

He grinned at her attempt to antagonize. But she knew he would win out. She’d called him the ridiculous name for a decade because he’d installed a huge spa bath at the house he’d built and her brother teased that it was to impress women. She hadn’t liked the idea then. and she liked it even less now.

“Are you throwing down the gauntlet, Grace?”

“Not at all.” She managed to pull away and put some space between them. “I’m…tired,” she said and shook her head. “Too tired to play games.”

“Then tell me what’s going on with you. If you do I might be inclined to leave you alone.”

Exasperated by his persistent badgering, Grace threw up her hands. “So, what do you want to know?”

His gaze narrowed. “Why you’ve come back for so long this time?”

“Because this is my home.”

He clearly didn’t believe that for a second. “Last I heard New York was your home, Grace. Crystal Point was the place you couldn’t get away from fast enough.”

It was a direct hit. She knew what he meant. Her career was the reason she’d left Crystal Point—the reason she’d put an end to their relationship all those years ago. She’d been overwhelmed, crowded, hemmed in…everything she didn’t want to be. Leaving had been her salvation. And her career had panned out exactly as she’d dreamed it would. Until the car wreck that had changed her life.

Grace’s back stiffened. “You know why I left. I wanted…I wanted…”

“Bright lights, big city.”

She stilled. Quiet stretched between them, like brittle elastic. The music seemed to fade and Grace experienced a strange tightening behind her ribs. “It was never that simple.”

“Yes, it was, Grace.” His voice was velvet-smooth, his expression unreadable. “You knew what you wanted. What you didn’t. And who you didn’t.”

She looked into his eyes. It sounded so black-and-white. But nothing was simple anymore. And she didn’t have the courage to admit the truth—that she’d gone to New York to make her parents proud and become everything they’d hoped she would become…or that now she’d come home to save her life.

Chapter Three

On Sunday morning at her sister’s bed-and-breakfast, Grace reorganized the upstairs linen cupboard, alphabetized Evie’s cookbooks and by eleven o’clock was sitting on the sofa watching a corny movie on a cable channel.

Anything to take her mind off the job she’d left in New York, the empty apartment that had never really felt like a home and the accident that killed her work colleague. An accident that had altered her in so many ways. Before that awful day she’d been in control of her life and future. There were no question marks. No uncertainty. At least none she was prepared to admit. She had known her trajectory. Her plan.

You knew what you wanted. And who you didn’t.

Cameron’s words rolled around in her head.

Because there had been the sting of truth in those words.

When they’d dated, when he’d said he had serious feelings for her and wanted to talk about their future together, she’d panicked and cut him down immediately. And as she sat in the lotus position on the sofa and stared absently at the television, Grace remembered what she’d said to him in stunning Technicolor.

“I’m just not interested in anything serious. Especially not with a small-town cop. I’m getting out of Crystal Point as soon as I can. There’s nothing and no one that could ever hold me here.”

Insensitive and cruel. And a pivotal moment in her life. What if she’d said something else to him? What if she’d had the courage to acknowledge her deepest, secret feelings and fears? And if she hadn’t left Crystal Point when she did, would she have felt even more trapped in their relationship, perhaps their marriage, had it ever come to that?

Grace sat back on the sofa and uncurled her legs.

Marriage had never figured in her life. Erik, who was as focused on his career as she was, had never mentioned it. Before Erik, she’d had a three-year relationship with Dennis Collier. The handsome and successful orthopedic surgeon had asked her twice to marry him—both times she’d insisted she was happy with the tempo of their relationship. She worked long hours and kept her own apartment. Toward the end they’d go for days without seeing one another. Eventually Dennis had traded her for a third-year resident at the hospital where he worked. Within six months of their breakup she heard he’d married and had a baby on the way.

The news hadn’t torn her up. She’d genuinely cared for Dennis—but knew it wasn’t the kind of feeling that could sustain her for a lifetime. There were feelings, certainly…but love? Grace wasn’t sure she even knew how to be in love. Long ago she’d run from those feelings, terrified they’d trap her, make her less than whole and dilute her ambition. She’d wanted a career. That’s what she’d planned for. That’s what her parents expected of her. Not marriage. Not babies. Not Crystal Point. That legacy was left to her brother and sisters. Noah took over running the family business and Evie was the original Earth Mother. While M.J. waltzed through life as a free spirit, making jewelry and saving the world with her causes. She was Grace Preston—smart, successful…untouchable.

Her cell rang, interrupting her thoughts, and she grabbed it from the coffee table.

“Hey, Princess.”

She bit back a startled gasp and took a deep breath. Strange that Cameron should telephone when her head was full of thoughts of him. “Would you stop calling me that?”

Cameron laughed softly. “I’ll do my best. So, how are things?”

“Since last night?” she shot back and ignored the rapid thump of her heart.

He was silent for a moment and Grace could swear he was smiling. “Come down to the surf club this afternoon.”

“What?”

“The surf club,” he said again. “I want to show you something.”

“What kind of something?”

“Something you’ll want to see.”

Grace colored hotly. The conversation was oddly flirtatious and she was startled by how it made her feel. “I…I don’t think so.”

“Oh, come on, Grace,” he said and laughed. “Live dangerously. You never know—you might like it.”

“No.”

“You’ll miss seeing something great.”

Again, more flirting, more…something. He was infuriating.

Grace made an unglamorous grunting sound. “Whatever game you’re playing, Jakowski, it’s not the least bit funny.”

“Game?” he said and chuckled. “That’s harsh, Princess. You need to learn to trust.”

He was laughing at her. As always. Her fingers turned white where she gripped the phone. “Jerk!”

She disconnected and wondered why he was the one person who could push her buttons so easily. And then she wondered why she cared that he did.

Her mother came to visit a little later and Grace made some tea and took a spot opposite at the big scrubbed table in the kitchen. Barbara Preston was the übermother. A career teacher, she’d managed to raise four children and work fulltime until her retirement a few years earlier.

“So, what’s going on, Grace?”

She knew that tone—knew her mother had something to say. “Nothing,” she replied and poured the tea.

Her mother made a disbelieving sound and grabbed a mug. “Grace, I know something’s up with you. You’ve been home a week now. And other than at Christmastime every few years, you never stay this long.”

Grace looked at her mother. “I’m fine. Just taking a break.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. She was on a break. A forced break. After the accident, her employer had insisted she see a therapist. Half a dozen visits later the counselor had recommended time off from her hectic job as a finance broker and her life in New York. Grace had resisted until she’d unexpectedly fallen apart one afternoon while meeting a client. Thankfully, the client hadn’t been appalled by her unstoppable tears, and instead had called on her secretary, who’d then informed her boss. Another therapy session followed and without any choice but to agree, the week she’d planned to come home for Evie’s wedding turned into a month.

“I’m worried about you.”

“There’s no need,” Grace assured her mother. “I was a little burned-out, that’s all.”

“You’re not sick or anything?”

“No,” she said quickly. There was no point mentioning the accident. She knew her mother would only worry. “I’m perfectly healthy.”

Barbara looked at her and smiled. “Okay, I’ll stop smothering. I did think it might have been a man who brought you back home.”

In a way it had been. Richard Bennett had been a colleague in the firm where she worked. He was also a devoted husband and father. A forty-nine-year-old man who hadn’t deserved his fate.

“There’s no man in my life,” she said quietly. “And Erik left a long time ago.”

“Are you looking for a relationship?”

It was an unexpected question. Her mother never meddled in her love life. And since her family had known of her career ambitions from a young age, her decision to move to New York was never challenged. “You know how I feel about all that.”

Barbara sighed and as always, Grace wished she knew how to really connect with her mother. Evie knew how. And Mary-Jayne. They fit in. Grace had always felt like she was watching her family from the outside. Oh, she was loved, she knew that. But being part of things? That was different. She’d never belonged in Crystal Point. New York had embraced her in ways the tiny town never had. Until she’d been forced to abandon that life.

Now she felt as misplaced as she had all those years ago when she’d been sent to boarding school. As a child she’d shown an aptitude for math and music and at twelve had been enrolled into a school that offered a curriculum designed for gifted children. She’d spent six years at that school, coming back only for the holidays. When her high school years were over, Grace had returned to Crystal Point for a few months. It was during that time that she began dating Cameron. Three months later she’d packed her bags and moved to New York.

Sixteen years on and she still didn’t know where she fit in.

“Marriage isn’t a prison sentence,” her mother said gently.

Grace nodded. “I know. But not everyone gets it all. And I’m not the settle down, picket fence type.”

“I only want to see you happy.”

“I know that, too,” Grace replied. “And I am,” she said and smiled. Not exactly the truth, but she wasn’t about to burden her mother with her problems. She needed to forget. Not dwell.

“Sometimes I think…” Her mother’s voice faded for a moment. “I think that you were too young to have left home when you did all those years ago.”

“I was strong-willed,” Grace said, and managed a smile. “And I wanted to go.”

Her mother patted her hand. “I know you did. And your dad and I were so proud of you for having the courage to follow your dreams. And we’re still proud, Grace. You always were our shining star.”

She’d heard it before. That’s why she’d been sent to boarding school while the other Preston children remained in Crystal Point. Grace is special. Grace is so smart. Grace will have a stellar career in whatever field she chooses. How often had she heard those words while she was growing up and attending the school? Within six months she’d been pushed up a grade and then spent the following five years as the youngest student in her class. She knew it had cost her parents tens of thousands every year for her tuition. She owed them a lot for giving her the education she’d had. But there were also times when she’d wished she was simply ordinary Grace Preston. Without the high IQ. Without the pressure to succeed and make good grades.

She’d never told her parent’s how she’d felt. There never seemed the right time. To complain would make her ungrateful, undeserving. And once school was over she just wanted to move on from those unhappy years.

When her mother left, Grace changed into designer jeans, high-end mules and a white, immaculately pressed T-shirt. She found a visor hanging on a peg near the back door and positioned it on her head. She needed to walk. To think.

The beach beckoned.

Winter meant fewer swimmers, even though the day was warm and the water temperature would probably be moderate. Grace locked up the private living area upstairs and checked on the single guest who was lazing in the front sunroom. The lone occupant was a gentleman in his sixties who had come to Dunn Inn alone for the first time in ten years, following the death of his wife. Talking with him for a few minutes stretched Grace’s emotions and by the time she’d said goodbye and headed outside, her throat was tight and thick. Her nerves were fraught enough and the sad widower somehow pushed her buttons. She took a deep breath and walked across the road. The grassy shoulder led to a long pathway, which ran parallel with the ocean and wound down toward the beach.

Grace followed the trail at a reasonable pace and it took about ten minutes to reach the sandy knolls leading up to the beach. She stalled at the edge of the rise and took a deep breath. The surf club stood to her left.

I didn’t come here for this. For him. I’m not going anywhere near that building.

Only…she was curious.

Grace took a second, shook her shoulders and walked across the path.

“There’s just no way I can do it!”

Cameron bit back an exasperated sigh as seventeen-year-old Emily Maxwell pulled a pile of books from a battered knapsack. “You knew it was going to be difficult.”

“But not impossible,” she wailed and dumped the bag at her feet. “I’ll never learn this stuff in time.”

“You’ve two weeks before you need to sit that makeup exam, Em,” he reminded her.

She rolled her eyes toward the toddler playing on a mat in the corner of the room. “And I’ve got a two-year-old kid to look after. It ain’t gonna happen. It’s over.”

“How about I ask your grandmother to help with the baby?”

Emily shook her head. “She’s got my brothers and sister to take care of. And they’re all going out to the farm next week.”

Cameron had heard the same story all afternoon. The teenager had been given an opportunity to complete a makeup exam that would go toward her final grade. But she’d talked of giving in to the pressure and Cameron knew he needed to do something to stop her from throwing away her chance at an education. He just didn’t know what. Emily was the oldest sister of Dylan. Twelve-year-old Dylan was one of his charges in the Big Brother program sponsored by his station. When Cameron inherited Dylan from the retiring sergeant at the station, he also inherited the teenage mother, her ailing grandmother and two other half siblings. Officially Dylan was his Big Brother charge, but the rest of them were in such dire circumstances, Cameron feared they’d all slip through the cracks and end up separated and in social services. They were a loving family, but down on their luck and needing help.

When Pat Jennings got custody of her grandchildren from her drug-addicted and incarcerated daughter, the town rallied together and raised funds enough for a deposit on a small farm out west. With the house a few months away from being ready for the families’ final move, Cameron knew this was Emily’s last chance to finish high school. If only she could get past her resistance to study so she could complete the makeup examination. Emily was intelligent, but lacked confidence. She’d missed classes and failed to finish set assignments throughout the year as she juggled single parenthood. It was a heavy load for a girl not yet eighteen.

“You have to find the time to study,” he said quietly.

“It’s not only the time,” she complained bitterly. “The work is just too…well, it’s too hard. And I’m not smart enough.”

She was. But she clearly didn’t believe it.

“I think the best thing at the moment is for you to—”

“Hey, Sarge!” called Dylan as he popped his head around the door. “There’s a lady here to see you.”

A lady? he looked toward Emily. “Keep studying. I’ll be back in a minute and we’ll continue this discussion.”

“But I—”

“Hit the books,” he said and smiled, then turned on his heel.

The second floor of the surf club had recently undergone a complete renovation following a fire four months earlier. Now it was used for Tai Chi classes, the Big Brother program and a couple of other local community events. Today it was a place for Emily to study without interruption while he spent time with Dylan.

Cameron headed down the stairs and came to an abrupt halt when he reached the bottom tread.

Grace.

A jolt hit him behind the ribs. He looked at Dylan, who was hanging off to her left and grinning. “Go and get the fishing gear ready,” he instructed and tossed him the keys to his car.

Dylan caught the keys and took off quickly. When he was out of sight Cameron turned his attention to Grace. “Hi.”

“Hello.”

“You came.”

She shrugged a little. “I was walking…I simply happened to…Well, I was nearby and thought I’d come in.”

The sensation in his chest amplified. “I’m glad you did.” Cameron held out his hand. “Come on up.”

She looked at his hand and hesitated. He waited. Grace never acted on impulse. Her actions were always measured. Always in control. She looked immaculate, as usual. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly and caught in a band at her nape. The only anomaly in her seriously fashionable look was the well-worn hot pink visor on her head. She finally took his hand and he instinctively curled his fingers around hers. She didn’t resist and followed him up the stairway.

When they reached the landing she withdrew her hand and crossed her arms. “So, what did you want to show me?”

Cameron smiled. “Nothing sinister.”

“Not that I’m likely to believe you,” she said, raising her perfectly sculpted brows.

He cracked another smile. “Come on, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

Cameron opened the door to one of the two upstairs rooms and beckoned her inside. She tagged after him and he closed the door. Emily looked up from her spot at the desk positioned by the long row of windows. He ushered Grace across the room.

“Emily, this is Grace Preston, a friend of mine.”

“Girlfriend?” the teen asked and stood.

“Friend,” Grace corrected as she shook Emily’s hand. “And I think I just met your brother?”

“Yeah, Dylan,” Emily said and laughed. “We look alike.”

The toddler in the corner tapped loudly on the plastic drum he was playing with.

“And that’s Riley,” Cameron explained. “Emily’s son.”

Grace nodded, frowning a little. He could see her looking at Emily with interest before she glanced at the books on the table. “But it looks as though I’m interrupting you.”

“No, you’re saving me,” Emily replied with a wry grin. “Sergeant Jakowski is a slave driver.”

Grace laughed and the sound hit Cameron directly behind the ribs. Damn. He wished everything about her didn’t affect him like he was a pining schoolboy. “Emily needs to study for a makeup exam in two weeks. This is a quiet place for her to hit the books while Dylan and I go fishing.”

“Then I am interrupting you,” Grace replied. “I should go.”

“No,” Cameron said, too quickly. “Stay for a while.” He saw her surprised look and fought the color creeping up his neck. But she was here. And he wanted her to stay. “You’re handy with the books, right?” he asked and smiled as he pulled out a chair.

Handy with the books was an understatement. Grace was the smartest person he’d ever known. As a child she’d always been top of her class, even before she’d gone to that fancy school. Then she’d headed off to New York to study finance and business. After that he’d heard she’d been headhunted by some of the top brokerage firms in the city.

Grace nodded, clearly still hesitant. “I’m not sure I can—”

“That would be great,” Emily said with more enthusiasm than he’d heard from her all afternoon. “I need all the help I can get.”

Cameron tapped the back of the chair and spoke. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

Once Cameron left, Grace sat down. Emily stared at her and grinned.

“So, are you and the Sarge—”

“No,” Grace replied quickly and pushed back the heat in her cheeks. “We’re just friends,” she said, even if it wasn’t exactly true. “We’ve known one another since we were kids.”

And he was the first man I kissed.

Even though she’d developed a silly crush on him when she was twelve, Grace knew she was a “late bloomer” when it had come to boys and sex. While her classmates were pining over pop icons and movie stars, she had her head firmly placed in textbooks or a Jane Austen novel. Being a year younger hadn’t helped. She was teased for her bookish ways, her flat chest and seeming lack of interest in any of the boys from the nearby all-male college. By the time her chest arrived she’d already earned the reputation as being stuck-up and closed off from the other girls in her class. And after a while she learned to embrace the isolation from her peers. Making friends lost any appeal and she didn’t waste time thinking about boys or romance.

Until the night of her sixteenth birthday.

“That explains why you don’t look like his usual type,” Emily said and jerked her back to the present. “I mean, they are Gucci jeans you’re wearing, right?”

Grace shifted in her seat and took off her visor. She didn’t like the idea of Cameron having a type. “You know fashion?”

Emily nodded. “I love fashion. Not that I can afford anything better than chain-store clothes these days. Riley keeps growing out of his gear quicker than I can buy them. But I would love to have my own store one day. And maybe study design.”

Grace pressed her hair back and looked at the textbook on the table. “That’s a great ambition. Now, about this makeup exam?”

Emily rolled her eyes. “I’ve missed a lot of school this year. Nan was helping out with Riley until my half brother and sister came to live with us.” The teenager pushed the book toward Grace. “My mother is a screwup. She’s in jail. Her husband died last year. No one knows what happened to my dad.”

Grace hid her surprise. Teenagers with serious family issues weren’t something she had experience dealing with. Unlike Cameron, who she knew spent a lot of time with needy kids like Dylan and Emily. “I’m sorry.”

Emily shrugged. “It happens. We’re lucky we’ve got Nan. But she’s getting old, you know, and can’t do things like she used to. Besides, I have to think about Riley.”

Grace glanced at the toddler, still happily playing in the corner. Adolescence, high school exams and a baby? It seemed like a heavy load. “Which is why Cameron wants you to finish high school?”

“Yeah—so I can get a good job or go to college. He’s cool, you know…he just nags me a bit sometimes.”

Grace smiled. “Well, nagging can be helpful.”

Emily laughed. “That’s what my nan says. And I guess I know that.”

“But?”

The teen shrugged again. “The studying is hard. And I get so tired of being treated differently at school because I’ve got Riley.”

Grace felt the frustration and pain in the girl’s voice. She knew firsthand how it felt to be different and then ostracized. “So, how about you show me what you need to study and maybe I can help.”

“Are you a teacher?”

“Finance broker.”

Emily frowned. “Which means?”

“Which means I’m good with numbers,” Grace replied with a wry smile.

She spent the next hour working with Emily. By the time Cameron and Dylan returned, the books were packed away and Riley was asleep in his mother’s arms. Emily had asked Grace to hold the little boy, but she’d resisted. Babies weren’t her thing. Making money and math and meetings and work lunches were what she was good at.

Not babies.

Grace didn’t have a ticking biological clock. She didn’t have some deep-rooted and instinctive yearning to reproduce. She had her career. And it had always been enough.

Being back in Crystal Point wasn’t going to change that. Being around Cameron wasn’t going to change that either.

“I’ll just drop them home,” Cameron said as they watched Emily collect her knapsack and haul Riley higher in her arms.

“I should get back to the B and B and—”

“I’ll be ten minutes, tops,” he said. “Wait here.”

Before she had a chance to object, Emily and Dylan waved goodbye and they all disappeared through the doorway. Grace lingered by the desk for a few minutes and got herself all worked up about his high-handed demands. She was just about to head home in protest when her cell rang. It was her boss, Jennifer Mullin-Shaw.

“So, are you relaxing?” Jennifer asked.

Grace was pleased the other woman couldn’t see her frown. “Of course.”

“And taking the therapist’s advice?”

“All of it,” Grace assured her. “I’m even watching old movies on cable to relax.”

Jennifer laughed and they chatted for a few minutes about mundane things such as the weather and then she gave a brief rundown of her sister’s wedding. Minus the part about making out with Cameron on the beach in the moonlight.

“So, you’re not dwelling on what happened?”

Grace gripped the phone harder and told a tiny lie. “I haven’t thought about the accident at all. I’m feeling…better.”

“That’s good. I’m pleased you’re taking it easy. Give me a call when you’re ready to come back to work.”

I’m ready now.

But she didn’t say it. Instead she ended the call and slipped the cell in her jeans pocket. Her plan to return to the B and B was forgotten when she turned on her heels and discovered Cameron standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, one shoulder propped against the doorjamb.

He looked her over in that slow, infuriating way she was accustomed to. “So, how did it go with Emily?”

She nodded and placed the visor back on her head. “Good. She’s a smart girl.”

“Yes, she is. Did she tell you about her home life?”

“A little. She told me about her mother and how her two half siblings now live with them and her grandmother.”

“Pat took the kids in when her daughter got locked up. Drugs,” he explained. “It’s been tough for the family. Emily and Dylan’s father disappeared years ago and they’ve lived with their grandmother most of their lives. The father of the two younger kids was killed a few months back. But now they have a chance to start fresh with a new home out near Burdon Creek.” He told her how the town had rallied to help the family purchase the small farm.

Grace thought about what he was doing for Emily’s family. She tried to think of one selfless thing she done the past year and came up with nothing.

No wonder he thinks I’m shallow. Not that I care one hoot what Cameron Jakowski thinks of me.

“It’s good of you to look out for them,” she said in a vague way she suspected sounded like some weak attempt to make conversation.

“Someone has to.”

Knight in shining armor. Hero cop. All-around good guy.

Not the guy for me.

Where did that come from? Grace crossed her arms and stared out of the window. Those mindless minutes on the beach the night before, that’s where.

She pulled on her good sense, determined to not think about his arms, his kisses, or anything else to do with the one person who’d managed to get under her skin and make her feel like she was the most self-absorbed woman on the planet. She’d never really cared what Erik thought of her. Or Dennis. Perhaps because she’d always held herself apart and avoided getting too close. But Cameron…he was different. He saw her. Every flaw.

“So, you said you had something to show me?” she asked.

“I did?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she replied and tried to dismiss the silly way her pulse raced. But he was hard to ignore in low-rise jeans and a pale blue T-shirt that showed the broadness of his chest and shoulders. And suddenly the air in the room grew hotter, thicker, like a tempting force had swept between them. She’d felt it before and always managed to ignore it. But today she couldn’t. He had good looks and charm in bucket loads.

“It’s nothing.”

She turned her head to glance at him. “Did you get me here under false pretenses?”

“Maybe.”

Warmth pushed through her blood. “And now that you have me here, what are your intentions?”

He laughed. “Ah, Grace, you are a confusing and beautiful contradiction.”

The compliment part didn’t help her determination to not be aware of him. “Then maybe I should leave and put you out of your misery.”

“What fun would that be?”

“Who needs fun?” she shot back and managed a tight smile.

“All work and no play, Grace? How’s that worked out for you so far?”

“Well enough,” she replied.

“Liar,” he said softly. “And if I come a little closer you’ll be shaking in those three-hundred-dollar shoes of yours.”

She drew in a breath. “You really do overstate your charm. If I’m shaking, it’s with disbelief that you’re so egotistical.”

He chuckled and perched his behind on the desk. “You know, Grace, I like you this way…fired up and ready for anything.”

Grace raised one brow. “Well, get used to it.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he said and crossed his arms. “I also like the woman you were last night.”

Heat crept up her neck. “Well, don’t get too used to that.”

He laughed and then just as quickly looked serious. “So, tell me about the accident?” He’d heard that part of her conversation with Jennifer? Damn. Deny everything.

“It’s nothing.”

He shook his head. “I don’t believe you. I know there’s something wrong with you, Grace. I also know you’re too proud, or too stubborn, to say what it is because you think it will give me some kind of ridiculous advantage. Tell me,” he insisted as his brown-eyed gaze scanned her face. “What accident were you talking about just now?”

She drew in a breath and the truth felt heavy across her shoulders. Grace closed her eyes for a moment. Images jumbled in her head. Lights flashing, brakes screeching, metal crunching…it was over in a flash of a second. And then there had been an eerie quiet, followed by the sound of her own terrified breath.

And suddenly she wanted to tell him everything.

“I was in a crash,” she explained quietly, feeling raw and exposed and more alone than she’d ever dare admit. “I was in a car crash.”

Cameron responded quickly. “What? When?”

“A couple of months ago.”

“Were you hurt?”

She shrugged. Her scars were emotional, not physical. “I dislocated my shoulder and had a few cuts and abrasions. Nothing serious.”

Cameron’s gaze was unwavering. “It wasn’t just a fender bender, though, was it?”

“No.”

“It was a serious crash?”

She shuddered. “Yes.”

“And you haven’t told your family about it, have you?”

“No.”

He pushed himself off the table. “Why not?”

Grace’s throat tightened. She hadn’t spoken of the accident with anyone other than her boss and her therapist. Her work colleagues had stayed off the topic, even when she’d arrived at the office after taking a week off. They knew she didn’t do deep and meaningful discussions. They knew she didn’t want to talk about Richard’s death. “There was no point.”

He shook his head. “No point? They’re your family. You were hurt, Grace, don’t you think they had a right to know?”

The heaviness in her throat increased. “I wasn’t hurt badly,” she said in a defensive tone. Not like Richard. “It wasn’t worth making people worry.”

He frowned. “People? I’m not talking about random strangers, Grace,” he said and grabbed her hand. “I’m talking about your family. Your parents. Your brother and sisters.”

She tried to pull away put he held her firm. “You don’t understand. I can’t be like that. I can’t let out every emotion I have. I don’t have what it takes to…to…”

“To what?” he encouraged so gently the heat in her throat turned into an all-out burn. “To get close to someone?” he asked.

Grace nodded.

He urged her toward him and she jerked as her body pressed against his. “And yet,” he said as he curled one arm around her waist. “You feel close now.”

Her emotions heaved. “Please don’t…don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing,” he said so gently her insides contracted. “I promise. But it might help to talk about it.”

Grace didn’t want his help. She wanted to run back to the B & B. But she didn’t move. And instead, she spoke a truth she hadn’t shared with anyone. “Okay…here’s the truth. After the crash I had a…meltdown,” she admitted. “My boss made me come home. It wasn’t my choice. I wanted to work through it in New York. I didn’t want to come back here. I didn’t want sympathy or pity. I didn’t want to feel anything.”

He looked into her eyes. “Does feeling scare you that much, Grace?”

It scared her. It terrified her. If she let herself really feel then she would be exposed…vulnerable. Weak. “Yes.”

He touched her face. “Then I think you’re exactly where you need to be.”

In his arms? It was the one place she could never be. She shook her head and pulled away. “Promise me you won’t say anything. I don’t want my parents to—”

“I promise,” he said gently and dropped his arms. “For now.”

Chapter Four

Later that afternoon Cameron lingered by the table in his mother’s kitchen while she stacked plastic containers into two separate carry bags.

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