# Sweet Persuasions

Rochelle Alers

Settling down isn't high on Xavier Eaton's list–he's having too much fun playing the field, sharing his bed but never his heart. All that changes when the high-ranking military man and longtime bachelor comes back to South Carolina and walks into Selena Yates's tantalizing patisserie….Charleston is a long way from Selena's West Virginia mining hometown. And the gorgeous Eaton war hero isn't like anyone the wary chocolatier has ever met. Xavier's kisses spark desire… and a powerful yearning to belong to him. As his kisses heat up the sultry Southern nights, Selena is tempted to say "I do" to a lifetime of passion. But is she ready to take her rightful place among the Eaton women as Xavier's beloved and adored bride?

## Xavier’s mouth covered Selena’s, surprising her.

Within moments, his hands searched under her pajama top, massaging the tight flesh over her ribs, her breath coming in quick gasps from the pleasure radiating in her chest and on downward. Ensnared by her own burning desires and awakened passion, Selena’s hands were just as busy, moving over his chest to his flat belly.

Reaching between his thighs, she caressed his hardened sex through the cotton material of his sleepwear. The heat from his flesh warmed her hand. Her fingers moved to the drawstring, untying it as Xavier raised his hips to aid her removal of the offending fabric. And just a moment later, her pajamas joined his at the foot of the bed.

Selena closed her eyes and felt the length of heavy flesh between Xavier’s muscular thighs. Her breathing quickened. Sensations she’d forgotten came alive. Liquid fire rippled through her veins as a rush of sexual awareness held her captive.

Xavier lowered his head, his mouth searching for Selena’s, and she returned his kiss.

## ROCHELLE ALERS

has been hailed by readers and booksellers alike as one of today’s most prolific and popular African American authors of romance and women’s fiction.

With more than sixty titles and nearly two million copies of her novels in print, Ms. Alers is a regular on the Waldenbooks, Borders and Essence bestseller lists, regularly chosen by Black Expressions Book Club, and has been the recipient of numerous awards, including a Gold Pen Award, an Emma Award, a Vivian Stephens Award for Excellence in Romance Writing, an RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award and a Zora Neale Hurston Literary Award.

Ms. Alers is a member of the Iota Theta Zeta Chapter of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Inc., and her interests include gourmet cooking and traveling. She has traveled to Europe and countries in North, South and Central Americas. Her future travel plans include visits to Hong Kong and New Zealand. Ms. Alers is also accomplished in knitting, crocheting and needlepoint. She is currently taking instruction in the art of hand quilting.

Oliver, a toy Yorkshire terrier, has become the newest addition to her family. When he’s not barking at passing school buses, the tiny dog can be found sleeping on her lap while she spends hours in front of the computer.

A full-time writer, Ms. Alers lives in a charming hamlet on Long Island.

## Sweet Persuasions. Rochelle Alers

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Seek ye the Lord while He may be found,

call ye upon Him while He is near.

—Isaiah 55:6

Dear Reader,

The Eatons are back! So far, the setting has moved from Philly to D.C., and now we’re moving to the sultry low-country.

When Xavier Eaton left Charleston after graduating with distinction from The Citadel, The Military College of South Carolina, his plans did not include returning and making The Holy City his hometown. The former career military officer is now a civilian, looking to begin the next phase of his life as a teacher at a small military academy.

What he doesn’t plan on is falling in love. But when he walks through the door to Sweet Persuasions, it doesn’t take much persuasion before he offers chocolatier Selena Yates his heart, protection and a love that promises forever.

Settle down in a comfortable chaise with a glass of sweet tea or lemonade and enjoy the heat, passion and a whirlwind romance that will not only leave you breathless, but panting for more.

The Eaton summer wedding duet continues next month with Dr. Mia Eaton’s Sweet Destiny.

Read, love and live romance.

Rochelle Alers

## Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

## Chapter 1

Xavier Philip Eaton maneuvered into the empty parking space on King Street. The owner of one of the antiques shops lining the street had called him the day before to let him know that she’d been able to acquire some crystal and silver serving pieces from an estate sale, which he was thinking of giving his sister as a wedding gift. In less than three months, his sister Denise would be getting married and changing her last name from Eaton to Fennell.

He’d been as surprised as his parents were when Denise announced that she’d reconciled with her college sweetheart—after a six-year separation—and was marrying the successful Washington, D.C. businessman Garrett Fennell on New Year’s Eve. When Xavier had asked his mother Paulette Eaton about a wedding gift, she’d suggested giving the couple something in keeping with the late-nineteenth-century architecture of their D.C. town house. His future brother-in-law, Garrett, had purchased a four-story town house just blocks from the city’s trendy, upscale Dupont Circle, renovating the first three floors for his various holding companies and the fourth floor as their personal residence. The renovations were scheduled to be completed before the end of the year, and Denise had decided to decorate the town house with period antiques and reproductions. Besides the wedding gift, he also had to buy something for his sister’s upcoming birthday.

As the brother of the bride, Xavier was not only part of the ceremony, but he would have the honor of walking his sister down the aisle, since their father Judge Boaz Eaton had agreed to officiate. For the moment Denise’s wedding had taken the pressure off of him, since his mother was obsessed with having her children get married and giving her grandchildren. It seemed Paulette Eaton was competing with her sister-in-law, Roberta Eaton, whose children had all married and made her a grandmother many times over.

Xavier wasn’t against marriage, per se. It was just that he hadn’t met a woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Considering his former girlfriends, he could honestly say there hadn’t been “one that got away.” He’d been forthcoming with the women he’d dated, admitting that he wasn’t ready to settle down and become a husband and father. And at the time, he wasn’t certain where he’d wanted to go with his military career. Most of the women respected his honesty, and many of them had remained friends even after their relationship ended. Those who wanted marriage opted for a more permanent break.

In the past year, he had undergone major changes in his life. A combat injury had ended his military career, and he had moved back to Charleston, South Carolina for the second time in more than a decade. In college, he’d been a student at The Citadel, The Military College of South Carolina, where he’d graduated with distinction. He’d subsequently enrolled in The Citadel’s graduate school, earning a degree in U.S. History and then went on to earn another degree at the Marine Corps War College. This time, he was back in Charleston not as a student, but as a teacher at a small, elite military prep school, teaching U.S. Military History. Just when he’d thought his days of wearing a uniform were over, he found out he still had to wear one whenever he was on campus.

It was late September, and the sultry heat of summer had not yet subsided. After growing up in Pennsylvania, he’d come to appreciate the relatively mild Southern seasons. Walking along King Street, he slowed his pace when he peered into the window of a pastry shop that displayed desserts and sweets reminiscent of a Parisian patisserie.

He smiled when he read the white lettering on the dark blue awning: Sweet Persuasions. The delectable confections were the pastry shop’s best advertising. Xavier stared through the front window at the customers sitting at bistro tables, sipping espresso and noshing on savories and tarts. When he saw a sign indicating that shipping was available, he knew exactly what he’d get Denise for her birthday. He’d always thought of his sister as delicate when it came to desserts. She preferred chocolate éclairs and tiramisu to pound cake or peach cobbler.

He opened the door—painted a high-gloss, dark blue—and walked into the cool air-conditioned space. The soft tinkling of the bell just inside the door caught the attention of the young woman behind the counter. She offered him a friendly smile.

“Good morning. Welcome to Sweet Persuasions.”

Xavier went completely still. Her voice was as enticing to his ear as the pastries in the window were to the eye. The sound of her voice was low, rich and ethereally melodic. The inflection had Charleston overtones, but not so much that he could detect exactly where she was from.

“Good morning,” he said, reluctantly pulling his gaze away from the face that matched the hypnotic accent. If he had been asked to describe her, it would have been in the mouthwatering way one describes a confectionery masterpiece. Her face was the color of toasted hazelnuts, and her almond-shaped eyes were as dark as chocolate chips. He liked the way her nose crinkled when she smiled, but it was her mouth with its perfectly curved lips that garnered his rapt attention. His gaze shifted from the blue-and-white-checkered scarf tied around her hair to the trays of pastries, cookies and tarts.

“May I help you with something?” Xavier stood awestruck. “Sir?” she said, when he didn’t respond.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Everything looks too pretty to eat.”

Selena Yates felt her heart rate kick into a higher gear when she stared at the tall, slender man who’d walked into her pastry shop. She had lost count of the number of gorgeous men she’d seen since moving from West Virginia to Los Angeles and now Charleston, but the one standing before her literally and figuratively took the cake. He was more than delicious—he was scrumptious.

He wore a white polo shirt and khakis with the aplomb of a well-tailored suit. There was something in his ramrod-straight posture that commanded attention. Thick black eyebrows framed a lean reddish-brown face that lifted a fraction when their gazes met and fused. She found the deep dimples in his face breathtaking whenever he smiled. There was a tattoo on his inner right arm, but she wasn’t able to make it out.

“Is there anything you’d like to sample?” she asked.

Xavier laughed heartily, the rich sound bubbling up from his chest. “I don’t think you’d want me to do that,” he said when he sobered.

Selena smiled. “Why not?”

He leaned in closer. “Because, I’d inhale everything in here like an anteater. I saw the sign said that you do shipping. Where?”

“We can ship our goods anywhere in the lower forty-eight.”

“Overnight?” he asked.

“I can guarantee overnight if it’s along the east coast. Otherwise, it’ll be two-day delivery. Your order will be packed and sealed in a special container that is heat resistant, ensuring that it will be fresh by the time it arrives.”

Smiling, Xavier continued to stare into the dark eyes that didn’t seem to look at him as much as through him. “I’d like to send something to my sister in D.C. for her birthday. What would you suggest?”

“Is she allergic to chocolate or nuts?” Selena asked him.

It wasn’t often that she had male customers. Most of her patrons were women who came into the shop to enjoy specialty coffees and teas with a pastry or savory tart, or to pick up an assortment of cookies or sweets for their offices, or to place an order for a special occasion. In the six months since the shop opened, Selena had been blessed because business was good. Some of her customers had standing orders, and her mail-order business had increased appreciably in the past few months.

Xavier shook his head. He pointed to a tray with cream-filled chocolate cookies. “She prefers sweets like these.”

Selena peered into the showcase. “Those are hazelnut galettes. They’re chocolate rounds filled with fromage frais, a kind of cream cheese,” she explained.

“Will they stay fresh during shipping?”

She wanted to ask him if he’d heard her when she’d mentioned the special shipping container. Flashing a smile usually reserved for children, Selena nodded. “If it arrives inedible, then I’ll replace the order at no charge. By the way, they are usually served chilled.”

Xavier moved along the length of the display case, his gaze lingering on the trays of brownies. “What kind of brownies are these?” he asked.

“Those are caramel-pecan.” Selena reached for a pair of tongs and a napkin with her clear latex gloves. She picked up a brownie square, and handed it to Xavier. “Taste it.”

He bit into the moist fudge, chewing slowly while shaking his head. “That’s definitely X-rated,” he drawled, after swallowing.

“The sweets in this showcase are what I call decadent delectables.”

Xavier took another bite. “I take it back. It is triple-X-rated.”

That’s what Selena loved, someone who appreciated her variation on the classic brownie recipe. “Do you think your sister would like the brownies?”

“Yes.” If there was one thing Xavier knew for certain, it was that Denise was a chocoholic. “She loves chocolate,” he added.

Selena smiled. “Do you mind if I put together an assortment that I think she might like?”

“Please.”

“I’ll need you to fill out the shipping information.” She pointed to a counter-height table with an empty stool in the corner. “The forms are over there. I’d appreciate it if you would sign the guestbook so that I can send you notices about our specials.”

Reaching for his BlackBerry, Xavier scrolled through the directory for Denise’s address. He filled out the shipping information, but decided it was best to send the package to her job instead of her apartment.

The coziness of the shop enveloped him as he hummed along with the soft music piped in through the speakers. Three couples sat at bistro tables, talking quietly as the tantalizing aroma of coffee filled the shop. Sweet Persuasions was exactly what the name implied. The subtle charm of the owner and the tantalizing pastries had drawn him in. But taste had been what sealed the deal. His gaze lingered on the raised lettering on the stack of business cards in a silver tray. A smile tilted the corners of his mouth. If the woman with the sensual voice behind the counter was the owner, then she had to be Selena Yates.

As he completed the shipping information, Xavier thought about his mother. Since she had retired from teaching, she’d begun baking in her spare time. Even though Paulette Eaton’s cakes and cookies were delicious, they weren’t as fancy or elaborate as those in Sweet Persuasions.

He picked up another shipping label. “I’d like another box like the one you’re putting together.”

Selena’s hand stilled. “Is it going to the same address?”

“No. The other one is being shipped to Philadelphia.”

“If you look in the drawer under the table, you’ll see a choice of note cards and envelopes. Take the ones you want to accompany your orders.”

Selena reached for a white box stamped with the shop’s logo, filling it with brownies and miniature raspberry and peach almond cream tarts. She added two slices of a chocolate pecan torte and hand-rolled chocolate mocha candies filled with nuts and dried fruit.

She packed a smaller box with four one-ounce jars of homemade preserves: strawberry, plum-vanilla, blueberry-maple and peach. “All first-time customers receive homemade preserves as a gift,” she told Xavier, as he stared at the tiny jars tied with blue-and-white ribbon.

“That’s really nice,” he crooned. He handed her the shipping forms.

Selena noticed that both labels were addressed to women with the same last name. She glanced at the return address. Now she had a name to go along with the face: Xavier Eaton. What she also noticed was that he lived in Charleston, so there was the distinct possibility that he would become a regular customer. Repeat business and local referrals had made Sweet Persuasions profitable.

“They’ll go out today and they should receive them tomorrow.”

Xavier took a small leather case from his pocket, and handed Selena a credit card. She stared at the plastic card. That’s when he realized she was staring at the tattoo on his arm. He’d been tattooed twice. The first time was the Marine Corps insignia—a globe of the western hemisphere with an anchor through it and an eagle on top—over his heart. He’d gotten the second tattoo after he was discharged.

As she took his credit card, Selena noticed that the image of a helmet resting on a rifle between a pair of boots, with the words Never Forgotten was the same as the one her brother had tattooed on one of his biceps.

Xavier’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. “Does my tattoo bother you?”

Selena shook her head as she processed his payment. “No. My brother has the same one.”

“Is he active?”

“No. He was in the reserves. But after two tours in Iraq, he decided it was time to get out. His wife threatened to divorce him if he didn’t,” she said, trying to avoid his gaze. “Are you active?”

Xavier exhaled an audible sigh. “No.”

“Were you deployed?”

There came a moment of uncomfortable silence. “Yes,” he finally said.

Selena felt the handsome stranger withdraw, even though the timbre of his voice hadn’t changed. It was something she’d witnessed whenever her brother Luke had come home on leave. He’d spend hours locked in his bedroom, and when he’d emerged sometime later he was the brother she’d recognized from their youth—the practical joker.

“I’m sorry for prying.”

Xavier forced a smile. “It’s okay. You weren’t prying.”

If he hadn’t worn a short-sleeved shirt, then she never would have seen the tattoo, he thought. He’d gotten it before the corps began cracking down on them. Suddenly, he seemed all too aware of it.

The carefree demeanor Selena had exhibited when he’d walked into Sweet Persuasions was now missing. “I’ll be back to let you know whether my mother and sister enjoy them,” Xavier said, hoping her smile and the cute way her nose creased would return.

“You can email me your comments.”

He didn’t know whether Selena Yates was married, single or engaged. But there was something about her that made him want to see her again. “I’ll come by. Maybe next time I’ll buy something for myself.” She smiled, her eyes lighting up like a hundred-watt bulb. There were some people who smiled with their eyes or mouths, but with her it was both.

“Thank you, Mr. Eaton. I’d like that very much.”

She could not afford to turn away any new customer. She knew the risks of starting a new business, especially in a tough economy. But opening up a patisserie when she’d had no experience running a business at all defied common sense.

“It’s Xavier,” he corrected.

Selena extended her hand. “And I’m Selena.”

He took her hand, holding it gently between his much larger one. “It’s nice to meet you, Selena.” Reluctantly he released her delicate fingers. “I’ll be seeing you.” Turning on his heels, Xavier walked to the door, standing aside to let a petite, dark-skinned woman with chin-length twists enter.

“Thank you,” she crooned seductively.

“You’re welcome,” he said, chuckling under his breath as he closed the door.

Monica Mills pirouetted in a pair of flats before bowing gracefully. “Now that looks as delicious, maybe even better, than what you’re selling,” she said to Selena.

Selena smiled at her next-door neighbor. “He’s definitely eye candy.”

Not only was Monica her neighbor, but they were also friends. Monica helped out in the shop during her free time, while Selena looked after the single mother’s school-age daughter before and after school hours.

“I’ll be right back,” Monica said over her shoulder as she walked toward the kitchen at rear of the shop. She washed her hands, and then pulled a bib apron over her head tying it around her waist. She covered her hair with a nylon bouffant cap, pushing the wealth of neatly twisted hair under the elastic band.

Monica worked for a major Charleston law firm as a paralegal, and there were times when she didn’t leave the office until well past seven o’clock, which is why Selena Yates was such a lifesaver.

Selena made certain Monica’s daughter, Trisha, got on and off the school bus, completed her homework and fed her dinner. Selena refused to accept payment for babysitting Trisha, so Monica helped out at Sweet Persuasions. For the past month, she’d put in sixteen-hour days at the law firm because of a high-profile murder case that was scheduled to go to trial soon. So she’d decided to take two weeks off in lieu of overtime payment. No amount of money could take the place of her spending time with her eight-year-old daughter.

Selena was cradling the boxes to her chest when Monica emerged from the rear of the shop. “Please take care of the front, while I get these ready for the early pick up.” A courier from the shipping company came twice a day—before noon and at six. A morning pickup ensured next-day delivery and the afternoon was for two-day deliveries.

“No problem, boss.”

Selena rolled her eyes at Monica, who’d put off going to law school when she’d discovered a week before graduating from college that she was pregnant. Rather than tell her boyfriend he was going to be a father, Monica moved from Atlanta to Charleston to be closer to her family. When Selena had asked her neighbor why she hadn’t told the man with whom she’d had a four-year relationship that she was pregnant with his child, Monica had said she didn’t want to talk about it. Respecting her privacy, Selena never asked again.

“I’m not paying you, Ms. M. So, I’m not your boss.”

Monica mimicked Selena’s eye-rolling. “I should be the one paying you for all you do for Trisha.”

Trying to avoid a pointless argument with her friend, Selena walked into the back of the shop. When she decided to open Sweet Persuasions, she’d had the contractor divide the space in the rear into a kitchen and a small alcove that she’d set up as an office. A desktop computer, printer, a two-drawer file cabinet and shelves stocked with boxes and shipping supplies was the mail-order lifeline of Sweet Persuasions. The kitchen where she baked her goodies was the heart and soul of the patisserie.

Selena gift-wrapped the boxes and attached gift cards. Forty-five minutes later, Xavier Eaton’s bakery goods were wrapped and sealed in vacuum packaging and stored in containers of dry ice. She printed out the shipping labels, affixed them to the packages and placed them on a side table with three other orders.

When Selena had left West Virginia at eighteen to attend college in California, she never imagined that eight years later she would be running her own business. In less than three weeks, she would be celebrating her twenty-seventh birthday. And although she didn’t know why, she suddenly felt older. Not old, but older. Becoming a pastry chef hadn’t been her career choice at first. But spending hours making mouthwatering recipes for delicious desserts and candies had become her passion. She didn’t have a husband, children or even a boyfriend, so her time was hers and hers alone.

Glancing at the wall calendar, she studied the requests for the upcoming week. There were orders for three dozen red-velvet cupcakes for a ladies auxiliary meeting, a specialty cake for a North Charleston couple celebrating their fiftieth wedding anniversary and a Black Forest cherry cake for an engagement party. Closing Sweet Persuasions two days a week allowed Selena to fill those special orders.

The nightmare that had sent her fleeing California to South Carolina was now a distant memory. Living and working in Charleston was like being reborn. She didn’t have to look over her shoulder every time she left her house, or glance through the peephole whenever the doorbell rang.

She’d claimed a new city and state as her home. She had a new career and had set up a new business. Not only did Selena think her of herself as lucky—she believed she was blessed.

A hint of a smile softened Xavier’s lips as he strolled out of Sweet Persuasions and down the block to the antiques shop. The past four months had become a summer of firsts. He had purchased his first house and he’d become a teacher.

He’d had second thoughts about relocating to Charleston after accepting the teaching position. But now that he’d moved into his house and settled into teaching military history, he felt as if he’d come home. Xavier was also rediscovering his adopted city—a city with a troubled past and a bright future.

He opened the door to the antiques shop, glancing at the unorthodox greeter sitting on a perch and staring at him from inside a large birdcage. “We have a visitor,” squawked the colorful parrot. “What’s your name?”

“Willie, I’ve told you about asking people their names,” admonished a woman with fashionably coiffed hair the color of moonlight. The elegantly attired shopkeeper smiled at Xavier. “Good morning, Mr. Eaton. You’re going to have to forgive Willie this morning. It’s as if he’s forgotten his home training.”

“He’s forgiven,” Xavier mumbled under his breath.

He wanted to tell Charlotte Burke that her pet needed more than home training. Willie needed to be at home. The first time he’d visited the shop he was treated to a monologue peppered with salty language that left Mrs. Burke red with embarrassment.

Charlotte Burke sighed. She’d given Willie a lengthy lecture as soon as she’d removed the cover from the cage earlier that morning. Her scolding had continued while she cleaned the cage and gave the parrot food and water. Willie had learned his colorful language from her husband, who claimed he could say whatever he wanted within the confines of his home. What Walter Burke had refused to acknowledge was that although there were no small children in the house, the parrot repeated everything he said.

She smiled at the incredibly gorgeous man, who made her wish that she was at least thirty years younger so she could flirt with him. Fortunately for her, she was married, and she wasn’t a cougar like some of her friends.

“You’re not teaching today?”

Xavier pulled his gaze away from what had become a stare down with the foulmouthed bird. Charlotte Burke’s cornflower-blue eyes matched her pantsuit exactly. The strand of South Sea pearls around her neck coordinated with the pearl studs in her ears. Her face, unlike her hands, was wrinkle-free, leading him to believe she’d had some work done.

“Today’s a school holiday.”

The Christopher Munroe Military Academy, a college preparatory school for grades eight through twelve, had opened its doors to day and boarding students ninety years ago with just fourteen young men. The school’s population had changed dramatically over the years with the acceptance of students of color and females, expanding to include grades one through twelve.

“That is so nice,” Charlotte crooned, her Southern drawl more pronounced than usual. She pressed her palms together. “If you come with me, I’ll show what I picked up at the estate sale.”

Xavier followed her to a table with a collection of silver and crystal pieces. “How old is this one?” He’d pointed to a heavily decorated silver teapot.

Reaching for a square of felt, Charlotte handed him the pot. “It was made by Samuel Kirk & Son in the mid-nineteenth century. Throughout the late nineteenth-century Kirk specialized in flatware and hollowware with heavy repoussé work or chasing that resembles neo-Rococo. If you turn the pot over you’ll see that it’s signed.”

“What is chasing?” he asked.

“It is a surface decoration drawn on the piece and then the decorator hammers it with a blunt, ballpoint chisel to distort the surface to achieve the desired effect without removing any metal.”

“Amazing,” Xavier said in a quiet voice. He set the teapot on the table, and picked up a coffeepot.

“That one is a silver Hallmark English coffeepot. It was made around 1767.”

“I’ll take the coffeepot, the teapot and the matching service pieces.”

Charlotte nodded, staring at the length of lashes touching the top of Xavier Eaton’s cheekbones. “What about the crystal?” She was hoping to sell him most of the silver and the crystal.

Reaching into a back pocket of his slacks, he took out a credit card. “I’m not sure what crystal pattern my sister would like, so I’m going to pass on it. But I know for certain that she’s partial to silver.”

“You’ve selected some very fine pieces.” A slight frown appeared on Charlotte’s face. “Didn’t you tell me you’re a history teacher?”

“Yes.” Xavier had had a lengthy conversation with her when he’d first visited her shop. She was aware that he’d graduated from The Citadel, and that he’d returned to Charleston to teach part-time at a military school. A smile parted her lips, the gesture reminding him of a Cheshire cat.

“I have something I believe would be of interest to you.”

His eyebrows lifted a fraction. “What is it?”

“You’ll see,” Charlotte said in singsong voice.

His curiosity piqued, Xavier watched as the antiques dealer put on a pair of white-cotton gloves and placed a leather pouch on the table. She took out a tattered clothbound journal and then another that was equally worn. “These are the journals written by a freeman of color who fought with the Union army in the War Between the States.”

He wanted to correct Mrs. Burke by telling her that the official term was the Civil War, but knew that the Confederate loss was a sore point with most Southerners. She opened the journal, turning the pages as if she were handling a newborn. Some of the entries were written in pencil and others in ink. Incredibly, most of the writing was legible.

Xavier leaned over the table. “If you don’t mind my asking, where did you get these?”

Charlotte gave him a sidelong glance. “I found them.”

“You just happened to find journals that are more than one hundred fifty years old?”

A flush suffused the woman’s face. “I really didn’t find them. But, I promised the woman who gave them to me that I wouldn’t divulge her name. She was cleaning out her house and she found them in a trunk in her attic. The trunk belonged to the great-grandmother of a woman who used to clean her grandmother’s house.”

Xavier tried to process what he’d just been told. “Why did she give them to you rather than a museum or historical society?”

Charlotte’s flush deepened. “She said the memories were too painful and she just wanted them out of her house.”

Realization dawned for him. Journals, if authenticated, that could be worth five or six figures at auction were given away like a bundle of old newspapers. “How much do you want for them?”

“I can’t sell them.”

A shiver of annoyance snaked its way up Xavier’s back. “If you don’t intend to sell them, then why show them to me?”

“That’s because I want to give them to you.”

He went completely still. “Do you have any idea what these are worth?”

Charlotte shook her head. “No, and I don’t want to know. You teach history, Mr. Eaton, so I know you will make certain they will find a good home.”

Xavier leaned forward. “You trust me not to sell them?”

“I’ve lived long enough to believe I’m a good judge of character. And I know you won’t sell them because you’d want to share what’s in these journals not only with your students but anyone interested in our country’s history.”

Charlotte Burke was right. He wouldn’t sell the journals because he wasn’t the rightful owner. Perhaps if he’d inherited or purchased them, then Xavier would possibly consider donating them to the South Carolina Historical Society. He planned to read the entries and then verify the accuracy of the events. After having them appraised, he would look for the rightful owner or owners. It was only fair that the descendants of a man who’d chronicled a war in which brothers took up arms against one another should be aware of what he’d had to sacrifice.

“You’re going to donate them, aren’t you?” Charlotte asked.

Xavier smiled. “I will—but only if I can’t find the rightful owners. That shouldn’t be too difficult if they’re still living in South Carolina.”

“What if they’ve moved out of the state?”

“It will make the search a bit more difficult, but not impossible. Did the lady tell you how long it had been since the woman cleaned her grandmother’s house?”

Charlotte slipped the books into the leather case and removed her gloves. “No. I would’ve asked, but she appeared very upset. You would’ve thought she’d found a live snake in her house instead of century-old books.”

What, Xavier mused, was her connection to the man who’d written of his wartime exploits? It had been a while since something had fired his imagination, and he was looking forward to what was certain to become a research project.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like you to hold on to the journals until I come back. I have some more shopping to do. Meanwhile I’ll pay you for the silver.”

“But, we haven’t negotiated a price, Mr. Eaton.”

Xavier waved his hand in dismissal. “I don’t like haggling. Please let me know how much I owe you.”

Charlotte took umbrage to the term haggling, but dismissed it with a slight lifting of her shoulders. Haggling was for peddlers, not a professional antiques dealer such as herself. Xavier’s willingness to meet whatever price she’d quote spoke volumes. He was a man willing to pay for whatever he wanted. She completed the transaction, processing his credit card and returning it to him. “My assistant will be in within the hour and, if you want, she can gift wrap them for you.”

Xavier smiled and deep lines appeared along his lean jaw. “I would really appreciate that.” And for the second time that day, he’d filled out a gift card to his sister. Six years older than Denise, he had always assumed the role of her protector. He’d put the word out in their neighborhood that if anyone bothered Denise Amaris Eaton, then they’d have to deal with him. Of course, he hadn’t had to deal with bullying or fighting, since it wasn’t tolerated in military school. Anyone who broke the rules was dealt with immediately. Three infractions in a school year meant permanent expulsion.

Xavier left the shop, skirting a couple standing in front of a shoe store, and headed for a specialty shop featuring tailored menswear. His day off had come with surprises. He’d discovered Sweet Persuasions and he had come into possession of a valuable piece of Civil War history.

## Chapter 2

Selena adjusted the thermostat on the air-conditioning unit in the bedroom, sank down into a rocking chair, kicked off her shoes, propped her feet on a footstool and closed her eyes. She never realized how tired she really was until she sat down at the end of the day. Once she’d made the decision to open up the shop, it wasn’t the decisions about which pastries she should make for her customers that had caused her so many sleepless nights. But it was the days and hours of running the business and the worries about money that were so exhausting.

Originally she’d considered staying open six days a week, but that would have left her little or no time to herself. In the end she decided to remain open Tuesday through Friday 8:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. She closed at four on Saturdays to keep her standing appointment to get her hair and nails done. Sundays were relegated to cleaning her apartment, doing laundry and attending church services. Mondays were set aside for banking and baking.

Selena opened her eyes, and stared at the bedroom furnishings she’d chosen as meticulously as she decorated the cookies and truffles displayed in Sweet Persuasions’ showcase. As a girl she had always wanted to become an interior decorator, but that dream changed when she was bitten by the acting bug. Performing on stage and in front of cameras became her passion. But her world was shattered when she had to give up her acting career after her life was threatened.

It wasn’t often Selena thought about what she’d sacrificed to start over, but retreating to the two-bedroom apartment above the shop that had become her sanctuary made it all worthwhile. Cloistered in her bedroom, she was able to relax and sleep in comfort and in peace.

The sound of the telephone ringing interrupted her musings. She picked up the cordless receiver without looking at the caller ID display—something she wouldn’t have done when she lived in California.

“Hello.”

“Hey, you.”

Selena smiled upon hearing her sister-in-law’s greeting. “Hey, Christy. How are you?”

“Pregnant!”

Her heart jumped. She knew her brother and his wife had been trying to have a baby, and after more than ten years of marriage Keith and Christine had begun talking adoption. “No!”

“Yes, and with twins.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to become an aunt.”

“If everything goes well, then you’ll become a double aunt.”

“When is the baby… I guess I should say when are the babies due?” Selena asked.

“March fifteenth.”

Selena calculated that Christine was approximately twelve weeks into her pregnancy. She found it odd that when she’d spoken to her mother, Geneva Yates, she hadn’t mentioned she was going to be a grandmother. Perhaps, she mused, her brother and sister-in-law didn’t want to say anything until after the first trimester.

“Do you know the sex of the babies?” she asked.

A soft chuckle came through the earpiece. “One looks like a boy, but the doctor couldn’t tell about the other one.”

“Perhaps you’ll get one of each.”

“That would be nice,” Christine crooned. “Enough talk about me. How’s business?”

Staring at the rose color on her pedicured toes, the corners of Selena’s mouth tilted upward when she smiled. “Business is better than I’d anticipated, especially the mail orders.”

“Maybe one of these days you’ll be a completely mail-order business.”

“Maybe,” she said, noncommittally. Sweet Persuasions had only been open for six months and that wasn’t long enough to go from retail to exclusively mail order.

“Business is good, but what about you?” Christine questioned. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“I don’t have time to see anyone,” Selena said much too quickly.

“Yeah, right,” Christine snorted. “Even the president and first lady have date nights.”

She didn’t want to talk about her lack of a love life since she’d moved from Los Angeles to Charleston. “You’re right, Christy. Maybe now that Sweet Persuasions is doing well I’ll think about accepting an occasional date or two.”

“Don’t you dare get sarcastic with me, Selena Yates.”

Selena chatted with her sister-in-law for the next ten minutes and hung up. She always enjoyed talking to Christy, because just hearing her voice reminded her of home. It had been a long time since she’d been to West Virginia. She decided she needed to relax and decided to take a leisurely bubble bath.

After her bath, she planned to prepare a salad to go along with the leftover beef stew, watch an hour or two of television before going to sleep. Her life had become as predictable as the sunrise. Every day she left her apartment in the morning to go to the shop, and then back home again in the evening. It was becoming a routine, but more important, it was safe—safer than it had been in L.A. before she’d been forced to leave when her ex-lover became a stalker. If Derrick Perry hadn’t been the son of one of California’s most powerful political power brokers, he would’ve been in jail.

When she left L.A., Selena didn’t go to West Virginia because she knew that would be the first place Derrick would look for her. Whenever she did go home, for holidays and family get-togethers, her father or her brothers would always pick her up at the airport. And because her father was in law enforcement, he always carried a handgun.

Her decision to move to Charleston wasn’t capricious, but rather something she’d given a great deal of thought. With a population of more than one hundred twenty thousand, Selena knew she would be able to blend in easily in South Carolina’s second-largest city. It was a Southern city, which better suited her temperament, making her feel more at home than she had in California. What she never imagined is that at twenty-six years old, she would be forced to change careers and start her life all over again in a new place. In Charleston, Selena had been give a second chance and she intended to take advantage of what the future held.

Xavier stood ramrod straight, his hands clasped behind his back, in the front of the classroom, meeting the curious eyes of the students in his class. Twenty years ago he’d been one of those students. He’d joined the faculty at Christopher Munroe Military Academy as a temporary instructor. The teacher he’d replaced was currently on medical leave and expected to return to the military academy the next school year. Xavier had accepted the position to get some teaching experience.

He hadn’t known why he’d become obsessed with military life. But at the age of seven he’d asked his father whether he could go to military school. It had taken one day for Boaz to discuss it with his wife, and a month later Xavier went from a suburban Philadelphia public school to a military academy in a nearby town. Many of the cadets were there because of disciplinary problems. But there were some who, like Xavier, had taken to the rigid structure like a duck to water.

Knowing what to expect from the time he woke until he went to bed provided a certain comfort and sense of order. There was no gang violence. No competing with other boys for a girl’s attention and on-campus substance abuse did not exist.

Unfolding his hands, he crossed his arms and smiled at the students seated in a semicircle. With a student-faculty ratio of eight-to-one, he much preferred the more informal seating arrangement to the usual classroom setup. All Munroe cadets wore uniforms, which helped foster a sense of camaraderie and put all the students on equal footing, giving them a chance to excel and be recognized.

“The Civil War marked a change in military warfare in this country that had been in place from the American Revolution to 1861.”

“Was it because of weaponry?” asked a female cadet.

Turning toward the front of the classroom, Xavier picked up a marker and jotted down the word artillery on the board. “The technological advancement in weapons was a key factor. But remember, weaponry is used in all wars—whether it’s pitchforks, axes, knives, swords, bows and arrows, bayonets, guns or cannon fire. Can anyone tell me about communications during this time?”

He was met with blank stares. Xavier enjoyed teaching the military course because it forced students to think. He’d set up a large storyboard with blue and gray toy soldiers. The rendering included mountain ranges, rivers, streams, seaports and railroads. He’d also pinned maps of the Americas, dating from the seventeenth century to the present on two of the four walls.

A rosy-cheeked boy glanced at his classmates and then raised his hand. “Had coded messages become more sophisticated?”

“In what way had they become more sophisticated, Mr. Lancaster?” Xavier responded.

“Spies no longer hid orders or maps in their boots,” Cadet Lancaster announced proudly.

“Where would they hide them?” asked the other female cadet, this one sporting neatly braided hair she’d tucked into a twist on the nape of her neck.

“That is a good question, Ms. Jenkins,” Xavier said, pausing before he wrote the word telegraph on the board, underlining it. “With every war there are intelligence officers, or as they are commonly referred to as—spies.”

Valerie Jenkins gestured for permission to speak. “I read the other day that if Major John André, who conspired with Benedict Arnold during the Revolutionary War, had been dressed as a soldier when he was captured, he would’ve been treated as a prisoner of war and not a spy.”

Xavier was hard-pressed not to show how impressed he was with Valerie’s eagerness to learn. “You’re right. As a student of history, I’ve always wondered why Benedict Arnold would give André papers, written in his own handwriting, papers detailing how the British could take West Point when the British general already knew the fort’s layout.”

“Do you think General Arnold set up André, Major Eaton?” Valerie asked.

Xavier angled his head. “We’ll never know. Major André sealed his own fate when he encountered a group of armed militiamen near Tarrytown, New York, assuming they were Tories because one man was wearing a Hessian soldier’s overcoat. He’d asked them if they belonged to the lower party, meaning the British, and they’d said they did. Then the major told them he was a British officer and he wasn’t to be detained. Imagine his shock when the men told him they were Americans and he’d become their prisoner. The men searched him, found the papers and he was detained as a spy. He’d asked to be executed by a firing squad, but the rules of war dictated that he be hanged.

“Fast forward eighty years and Americans are embroiled in another war—this one unlike any other fought on this soil because it was not an invasion. Widespread use of the telegraph for military communications began with the Civil War. The telegraph wire service was a private enterprise, but its operators were affiliated with the U.S. Army. Using his executive power, President Lincoln put it under federal jurisdiction reporting to the War Department.”

Another cadet raised his hand. “Yes, Mr. Tolliver,” Xavier said, pointing to him.

“Major Eaton, are you saying Confederate troops didn’t have access to the telegraph?”

“No, I’m not. Operators on both sides became adept at taping enemy lines and decoding messages, but the Confederates lacked the infrastructure of Union telegraphers who had more than fifteen thousand miles of telegraph wire and sent approximately six million military telegraphs.” He made a notation next to artillery. “The Minié ball, or minie ball, is a muzzle-loading, spin-stabilizing rifle bullet that came into prominence during the Civil War. Like the musket ball, the minie ball produced terrible wounds. The large-caliber rounds easily shattered bones, and in many cases the field surgeons amputated limbs rather than risk gangrene. The result was massive casualties. The Spencer repeating carbine and rifle and Colt revolver rifle also played a major part when it came to artillery.”

Xavier added photography, newspaper clippings, letters from soldiers, the railroad, transport troops and supplies, water transportation, topography and the science of embalming to the syllabus.

“The discovery that by combining arsenic, zinc and chloride to prevent bodies from decaying so quickly, meant that soldiers could be shipped home for burial rather than in mass graves. I want you to research each of these points and become familiar with their impact on the war for both the Union and Confederate armies.”

Cadet Valerie Jenkins raised her hand again. “There is no comparison when the Union Army controlled the telegraph lines.”

“Are you saying, Cadet Jenkins, that the Confederates were completely inept when it came to communications? And if they were, why then did the war last four years?”

She lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know.”

Xavier smiled. “That’s what I want you to find out. All of you have textbooks and access to the internet. Please use them. Remember, we’re going to cover every battle and skirmish beginning with the opening salvo of the shelling of Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbor on April 12, 1861 to Lee’s surrender at Appomattox April 12, 1865. You may think the issues I listed are inconsequential. But because of them battles were won and lost, heroes were revered and vanquished. Most of you have heard of the battles at Vicksburg, Lookout Mountain, Fredericksburg, Gettysburg, Bull Run and Manassas. But there was also Mechanicsville, Sailor’s Creek, Missionary Ridge, Strasburg, Philippi, Rich and Cedar Mountain. We will go over military tactics and strategies from the point of view of both armies. What we will not discuss is the political or the moral implications of the war.”

He glanced at the wall clock. “You have fifteen minutes to copy the notes on the board.” The cadets opened their laptops, waited for them to boot, then began typing. Unlike some instructors, Xavier preferred his students not take notes during the lecture because it was a distraction. He wanted them to absorb as much information as possible before transferring it to their notes. Times truly had changed since he’d attended military school. Yes, there were computers, but not every cadet had their own laptop.

Xavier dismissed the class. He knew the cadets were anxious to start the weekend. Having the next two days off let them blow off some steam. Come Monday morning the rigorous military education would begin again. And it wasn’t the first time Xavier thought he was grateful he didn’t live on campus. Once he’d received his official discharge from the marines, he was a civilian now living the life of a civilian. He was well aware that the transition from almost three decades in a military to civilian life wasn’t going to be easy. But teaching at a military academy had made it easier.

A knock on the classroom door caught his attention. He looked up. “Have a good weekend, Major Eaton.”

Xavier nodded to an instructor who taught mathematics at Munroe. “Thank you, Captain Alston. You do the same.”

For Xavier, every weekend was good, because for the first time in his adult life he would be able to go home and do whatever it was he wanted to do. He was no longer Captain Xavier P. Eaton, a rank he’d held for years before his promotion to major. The promotion had come when he’d risked his life to save three of his men who’d been wounded when they tripped an improvised explosive device—or IED. He’d managed to save two of them. After a month in a military hospital, where he was awarded a purple heart and another medal for bravery, Xavier was promoted to the rank of major, followed by several weeks in a rehabilitation facility that led to his medical discharge.

There were days when the pain in his leg had been so intense it made walking difficult. But he managed to work through the discomfort in order to maintain a relatively normal lifestyle. He’d gone from wheelchair to walker and eventually to walking with a cane. It had been more than two months since he’d used the cane he’d stored in the trunk of his car. Although he knew it would be some time before he’d be able to jog or run laps around a track, his orthopedist had assured him that there would come a time when he’d forget that rods, pins and screws had replaced his shattered bones.

Xavier walked out of the classroom and into the office he shared with two other history instructors, unlocked the drawer to his desk and retrieved his cell phone. He had two voice mail messages: one from his mother and another from his sister. He listened to his voice mail, smiling when he heard Paulette Eaton’s message:

“Thanks so much for the incredible box of goodies. I shared them with Roberta who couldn’t stop talking about them. She’d asked me whether I’d made them, and I couldn’t lie. But I didn’t tell her where I’d gotten them from, which truly made my day. Call me when you get a free moment. Love you.”

Xavier shook his head as he scrolled through the directory for his sister’s number. He wanted to tell his mother to give up her pointless undeclared war with her sister-in-law. The sooner Denise made their mother a grandmother, the better.

He hit the speed dial for New Visions Childcare, identifying himself and requesting to be connected with Denise Eaton. Her voice came through the earpiece less than sixty seconds later.

“What’s up, brother love?”

A rich chuckle greeted her response. “I think it’s Rhett who’s brother love.”

“Now, don’t tell me you’re not seeing anyone?” asked the director of the D.C.-based childcare center.

Xavier sobered. “I’m not seeing anyone. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

“For now,” Denise quipped. “What I can’t understand, Xavier, is that you’ve been involved with some really nice women.”

“Nice doesn’t translate into special, Denise.”

“How special is special?”

“I can’t explain it. But I’ll know when I meet her.”

“Does she exist?”

He smiled even though his sister couldn’t see his expression. “Of course she exists.”

“Yeah, right,” Denise drawled. “I want to thank you for the wonderful birthday gift. It was delivered minutes before this morning’s staff meeting, so I shared them with everyone. Preston and Chandra invited me and Rhett to hang out with them for a couple of days, so I want to order something from Sweet Persuasions and have it delivered directly to them.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” he told his sister.

“Will they deliver to the Brandywine Valley?”

“I suppose they will. It may be a little remote compared to Philly, but it is on the map.” His cousin Chandra had married award-winning playwright P.J. Tucker, who owned a condo in Philadelphia’s Rittenhouse Square and a farmhouse in the historic Brandywine Valley.

“Can you please go to the shop and check it out for me, Xavier?”

“You have the telephone number. Why don’t you call?”

“I’ve been calling, but all I get is a busy signal.”

He smothered a groan. “When do you need to know?”

“Like yesterday. We’re leaving tonight, and plan to stay through Wednesday.”

His plans included going home and unwinding. “Give me the Brandywine address and telephone number.” Reaching for a pen, he wrote it down, repeating it to make doubly sure.

“I’ll send you a check if you order—”

“Don’t worry about sending me anything,” Xavier said, interrupting her.

“But I want—”

“I don’t want to discuss it, Denise. Save your money. Remember, you’re the one planning a wedding.”

“Have you forgotten your future brother-in-law is a multimillionaire?”

“And have you forgotten that it’s the bride’s family that usually pays for the wedding? So if you mention money to me again, I’m going to hang up on you.”

“Damn, brother. There’s no need to get hostile.”

Xavier ignored her. “What do you want me to order?”

“I’d like a brownie-fudge cheesecake and a pound of chocolate-and-peanut-butter pretzels. I found out from Preston that Chandra has been craving chocolate and cheesecake.”

“No comment.” He knew any reference to food and a woman’s weight was certain to set off an argument, so he made it a habit to remain silent on the subject. Chandra, who was due to deliver her first child a month after the wedding, had been chosen matron of honor. “I’m going to hang up because I want to go home and change before going into town. I’ll call you later.”

“Thank you, Xavier. You’re the best brother a girl could have.”

“Is it because I’m the only brother you have?”

“That, too,” she said, laughing.

He ended the call, and put his cell phone into the leather case along with his laptop and lesson plans. Going downtown to order and ship pastries wasn’t how he’d planned to begin his weekend. He managed to stave off his curiosity about the journals Charlotte Burke had given him until later. Once he sat down to read them, he didn’t want any interruptions. He planned to read the entries and also take notes. As a student of American military history, he would know if details of the battles were accurate or not. But first he had to stop by Sweet Persuasions and place another order for his sister. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Denise. Memories of her crying whenever he returned to school after spending the weekends with his family had remained with him for hours. It had been impossible to explain to a toddler that her older brother wasn’t deserting her, and that he would return home the following weekend to play with her.

It wasn’t until Denise enrolled in school herself that she understood what her brother did when he went away to school. The guilt had bothered him for years. Ever since then he was helpless upon seeing a woman cry. It was the reason he’d remained friends with some of his former girlfriends. If they called to ask whether he would escort them to a social event he always agreed. That’s what friends were for.

Returning to Charleston meant starting over for Xavier. It wasn’t about looking for a woman as much as it was discovering who he was. For years he’d been a cadet, a first and then second lieutenant, captain and eventually a major. In Charleston, and away from military school, he could be Xavier Eaton—someone not bound by rules and regulations.

He left Munroe through a side door, leading directly into the faculty parking lot. Ninety minutes after driving away from the academy he maneuvered onto a side street behind Sweet Persuasions. Crews and trucks from a utility company had blocked off King Street to cars. It was apparent they were there to restore telephone service to the area.

Xavier walked around the corner and when he approached the shop with the blue awning he saw Selena standing outside watching a workman scale a telephone pole. His penetrating gaze lingered on her hair pulled into a ponytail before it traveled downward to a white camp shirt she’d tucked into the waistband of a pair of skinny jeans. The outline of her breasts under the shirt and the roundness of her hips quietly shouted her obvious femininity.

He slowed his approach, studying her delicate profile as she tilted her chin to watch the man perched atop the pole. Xavier didn’t know what it was about Selena Yates, but there was something special about her. Xavier was less than a few feet from Selena when she turned and stared at him. Her expression of uncertainty gave way to recognition as her lips parted in a smile.

“Hello again, Xavier,” she said in greeting.

His eyebrows lifted. “So, you remembered my name.”

Selena’s smile grew wider. She wanted to tell Xavier Eaton that not only had she remembered his name but also his gorgeous face and magnificent body. The man was the walking, breathing personification of everything exquisite about the male species.

“I remember all of my regular customers.”

He took a few steps bringing them only inches apart. She had to tilt her head to meet his eyes. “What makes you think I’m going to be a regular customer?”

“Don’t play yourself, Mr. Eaton. You’re here two days in a row.”

Xavier felt his pulse quicken when she lowered her seductive voice. “Yes.”

Selena forced herself not to look below his neck. Today he’d worn a long-sleeved pale blue shirt with a pair of black tailored slacks. She’d noticed with his approach the corps insignia on the buckle on his black leather belt. It was apparent Xavier Eaton was a marine in every sense of the word. It was as if he’d taken the service motto, Once a Marine Always a Marine, quite seriously.

“Did your mother and sister like their gifts?”

Xavier nodded again. “That’s why I’m here. They both loved them. My sister tried calling you to place an order, but got a busy signal.”

Selena pointed to the man on the pole. “That’s why they’re here. My phone has been out all day. I can’t call out or receive incoming calls. Of course, the disruption also affects my internet service.”

“Can’t you access the internet on your cell?”

“No! Once I leave the shop I try and distance myself from business, if only for a few hours. Having internet access on my cell is a temptation I’m not willing to risk.”

“Are you still taking orders?”

“Sure. Please come inside.”

Xavier found himself watching the gentle sway of Selena’s hips as she turned and walked into the shop. She hadn’t worn a hint of makeup, and he found her natural beauty refreshing. He wasn’t into women who wore fake hair, nails and eyelashes because he didn’t know whether he could touch them or not.

He’d dated one woman who wore makeup to bed, and even after several washings the stains from the makeup were still visible on the pillowcase and sheets. Another wouldn’t let him touch her hair, and another one didn’t want him to touch her breasts. To say that those relationships ended before they began was putting it mildly. All of the women were intelligent and attractive, but they’d come with a boatload of issues. When he shared a bed with a woman, nothing was off-limits.

Selena stared over her shoulder at Xavier as he glanced around the patisserie. Her last customer had left fifteen minutes ago, and in another hour she would close the shop. She doubted whether she would get too many more customers with the street blocked off to traffic. She would’ve closed earlier, but she was waiting for someone to pick up an order for a restaurant.

“What time do you close?” Xavier asked.

Her smile was dazzling. He’d read her mind. “Normally at six, but with no phone and the street closed to traffic I’m going to close early. I’m waiting for a pickup and then I’m out of here.”

Xavier walked over to the table with the shipping slips, and retrieved his BlackBerry. He jotted down the Brandywine Valley address of the Tuckers in the delivery section. “I’d like to order a brownie-fudge cheesecake and a pound of chocolate-and-peanut-butter pretzels.”

“When do you need them and where are they being shipped to?”

Selena stared at Xavier; he met her curious gaze with a penetrating one of his own. It had been a long time since she’d found a man intriguing and was uncertain why she felt strangely connected to him. Maybe it had something to do with his being in the military service. She wasn’t superficial, so her attraction to him wasn’t simply because of his handsome appearance. That was something she’d done as a teenager. At twenty-six she wanted to believe she was beyond the goo-goo-eyes stage in the presence of an attractive man. Yet the man standing in her shop, Xavier Eaton, had proven her wrong.

“They’re to be shipped to…” Xavier’s words trailed off when the bell above the door chimed. He stood straighter, his eyes widening in surprise. “Bell?”

The tall dark-skinned man with a shaved pate, mustache and goatee stopped short. “Holy…” He swallowed the expletive at the last possible moment. “Eaton?”

Xavier took a step, finding himself in a bear hug that nearly crushed his ribs, and making it difficult for him to breathe. He pounded the broad back of the man he hadn’t seen since they’d graduated from The Citadel. He rarely read the alumna updates online and had lost contact with many of his former classmates.

Robert Bell pulled back, released Xavier and shook his head. “What the hell are you doing in Charleston? Wait, don’t tell me. You’re Selena’s mystery man.”

## Chapter 3

Xavier stared at Bobby Bell as if he’d taken leave of his senses. What was he talking about? And why did Bobby believe he had a connection to Selena. Today was only the second time they’d been seen with each other. His gaze shifted to Selena, his instincts suddenly on alert. There was something in her eyes that wordlessly communicated not to say anything.

Selena breathed an inaudible sigh when Xavier clamped his jaw. “Did you think I really didn’t have someone, Robert Bell?” she drawled sarcastically.

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Xavier asked.

Bobby crossed massive arms over a broad, deep chest. “I run a restaurant with my dad and uncles, and on Fridays we have date night with a live jazz combo. I’ve been asking Selena to come, but she says she doesn’t go anywhere without her boyfriend. Whenever I ask about her ‘boyfriend’ she always says he’s busy. So after a while I started calling him her mystery man.”

Bobby told Xavier more about Selena Yates in less than sixty seconds than he would’ve learned if he’d continued to come to her patisserie a dozen more times. She was single, wasn’t dating anyone and no doubt a very private person. He took several steps and put his arm around her waist.

“I hope you’re not calling my woman a liar, Bobby.”

“No, no, no, man,” Bobby countered, holding up his hands defensively. “It’s just that I didn’t know you were back in Charleston, that’s all. One of the guys from school told me about you saving three of your men after they’d driven over an IED and—”

“We’ll talk about that later,” Xavier interrupted when he felt Selena’s back go rigid against his arm. He didn’t know if Bobby knew that her brother had served, as well.

Bobby’s boyish round face softened when he winked at Selena. It was apparent Xavier didn’t want to talk about the war in front of her. “I’m going to have to pick up those trays and head back to the restaurant. The kid who usually does all the runs sprained his ankle playing football, so yours truly is standing in as temporary gofer. Am I going to see you two tonight?” he asked Selena.

Xavier stared at Selena, lifting his eyebrows questioningly. “I’ll come, that is if Selena isn’t busy.” He felt conflicting emotions. On the one hand he had hoped she’d be busy, since he’d never liked being manipulated into situations. But on the other hand, he’d hoped she wasn’t busy, and going out with her would satisfy his curiosity.

Selena felt the powerful arm around her waist. She also enjoyed the way Xavier’s body pressed against hers and the tantalizing scent of his cologne. She’d tired of Bobby Bell asking her to come to his family’s restaurant for date night, because there wasn’t any man she’d seen or met since moving to Charleston that she’d wanted to accompany her. It wasn’t that men hadn’t asked her out. But her involvement with a man who’d threatened her life if he couldn’t have her, made her overly cautious when it came to dating. However, there was something about Xavier Eaton that reminded her of her brothers, and there was never a time when they hadn’t protected her.

The boys in her West Virginia town knew if they messed with Selena Yates then they had to not only deal with her father but also her brothers. If their father hadn’t been sheriff, there was little doubt either one or both would’ve spent several nights in the local jail. They’d protected her at home, but they were unable to protect her once she’d moved away.

“What about it, Selena? Do you want to go?” Xavier said when she gave Bobby a blank stare.

“Yes,” she replied as if coming out of a trance. Her eyelids fluttered wildly when she realized what she’d agreed to.

Bobby’s head bobbed up and down. “Good.” He slapped Xavier’s shoulder. “Mama is going to lose it when she sees you.”

Xavier smiled. “Let your mother know that I’m looking forward to seeing her again.”

Selena plastered on a smile. “Bobby, your order is in the back.” She waited until Bobby made his way to the rear of the shop before rounding on Xavier. “Don’t you dare say anything until after he leaves,” she whispered.

Narrowing his eyes, Xavier pushed his face close to Selena’s. “You have a lot of explaining to do, Ms. Yates.”

Bobby emerged from the back, clutching four white shopping bags with Sweet Persuasions and the street address stamped on the sides. “Try to get there before seven, because Ma Bell’s gets real crowded around eight.”

“You named the restaurant Ma Bell’s?”

Bobby laughed, the sound coming from deep within his wide chest. “Ma is short for Emma. We were going to call it Bell’s, but my dad overruled his brothers. He said if his wife was going to cook alongside them, then the place would also bear her name. She cooks on Fridays and Saturdays, while they take over the kitchen from Sunday through Thursday.”

Xavier nodded. “Good choice.” He’d lost track of the number of times he’d sat at Emma Bell’s table devouring everything she’d put in front of him. She was one of the best, if not the best, cook in the low country. He took his arm from around Selena, and opened the door for Bobby. “We’ll see you later.” He closed and locked the door, turned over the sign to Closed in the shop window, then turned to face Selena. “Please tell me why Bobby thinks I’m your mystery man?”

Selena closed her eyes for several seconds. “You don’t have to go with me if you don’t want to.”

He closed the distance between them, grasped her shoulders and steered her over to one of the bistro tables. He pulled out a chair for her, then rounded the small table and sat on the opposite side. “If there is one thing you should know about me, Selena, it’s that I’m not into playing head games. You tell Bobby you’re going with me, and now you say I don’t have to go. What’s it going to be?”

Selena’s hands tightened into fists, her nails biting into the tender flesh on her palms. She welcomed the pain rather than stare at the man glaring at her. “It’s complicated, Xavier.”

“How complicated can it be?” he countered. “Apparently you lied to Bobby about having a boyfriend, or do you really have a boyfriend stashed away somewhere?”

Her gaze swung back to his handsome face. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Xavier leaned over the table. “You don’t have a boyfriend, yet you told Bobby you did. Why?”

She breathed an audible sigh. “I got tired of him asking me to come to Ma Bell’s for date night, because he said if I didn’t have someone to go with then he would hook me up with someone.” Her delicate jaw tightened. “The last time someone hooked me up with a man it ended in disaster.” What she didn’t tell Xavier was that the relationship had almost cost her her life.

“I don’t like being set up, either,” Xavier said. “How long did you think you’d be able to string Bobby along without him becoming suspicious?”

Xavier’s query elicited a smile from Selena. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“It did until I became your date.”

“You didn’t have to go along with it.”

A hint of a smile tilted the corners of his mouth upward. “But I did because I was curious to see how it would all play out. Now that I have a girlfriend I didn’t know I had when I woke up this morning, perhaps you can tell me a little about yourself.”

Selena felt the invisible wall she’d put up whenever she discovered a man getting too close to her emotionally disappear. “There’s not much to tell.”

Propping his elbow on the table, Xavier rested his chin on the heel of his hand. “Let me be the judge of that.”

“Why are you going along with this, Xavier? I’m certain you’d rather take some other woman with you to Ma Bell’s.”

His impassive expression did not change. “Perhaps you weren’t listening when I told you that I didn’t have a girlfriend—that is until a few minutes ago. Now, baby, please tell me what I need to know about you so we can put on a winning performance for my old college buddy.”

Selena didn’t want to believe he’d called her “baby”. The endearment rolled off his tongue like watered silk. “I’m twenty-six.”

“When will you be twenty-seven?”

“October eighteenth.”

“Are you a native Charlestonian?”

Selena shook her head. “No. I’m originally from West Virginia.”

“Where in West Virginia?” he asked. Xavier had detected a slight accent, but he hadn’t been able to identify where she was from.

“Matewan.”

Lowering his arm, he stared at Selena as a shiver of excitement rushed over him. “I’ve never been to Matewan, although it has been on my list of must-see places.”

“There isn’t a whole lot to see,” Selena replied. “It’s a speck on the map.”

“It’s speck with a lot of history. Isn’t it referred to as ‘a peaceful place with a violent history’?”

Selena sat up straight. “How’d you know that?”

“I teach American history.”

“Where?”

“At the Christopher Munroe Military Academy in North Charleston.”

“Do you like teaching?” she asked, continuing with her questioning.

Xavier smiled, bringing her gaze to linger on his sexy mouth. “I love it. Now, tell me why you left Matewan.”

“I was offered a full academic scholarship to Stanford.”

The seconds ticked as he stared at Selena. Not only was his pretend girlfriend beautiful, but she was also very bright. “What was your major?”

“Drama.”

“You’re an actress?”

Slumping in the chair, Selena stared at a spot over Xavier’s shoulder. Answering his question would open a door to her past she didn’t want to reopen. “No,” she half lied after a pronounced pause. “I’m a pastry chef.”

“But…but why did you major in drama if you wanted to be a pastry chef?”

“At the time I didn’t know that acting wasn’t for me.”

What she didn’t tell Xavier was that she was a pastry chef with chocolate as her specialty. She prayed Xavier hadn’t watched daytime soap operas or he would’ve recognized her even without the makeup and designer clothes. After she’d graduated, she’d auditioned for a small part on a soap opera and was hired on the spot. Her acting credits included commercials, a made-for-television movie and work in several films. The seven-episode role on the soap opera was expanded, and she was signed to a one-year contract and became a recurring character.

Ratings for the show escalated. Her workdays began at five in the morning and didn’t end until ten at night. After memorizing fifty to sixty-page scripts, she barely had time for socializing. But after about a year and a half she began going out with Derrick Perry.

He’d been the most attentive man she’d ever known, but when his attentiveness bordered on obsession, Selena knew they had to stop seeing so much of each other. It was as if she were being smothered. He’d become unreasonable when she’d told him that she wasn’t able to see him every day, and that they could get together on weekends. He’d fly into a rage, and then resort to a crying jag. She didn’t see Derrick for several weeks, and when he reappeared it was as if nothing had happened. Selena didn’t ask where he’d been and he hadn’t been forthcoming about his disappearance. They’d resumed their weekends-only dating for a month when he disappeared again. This time it was for three months. When he’d shown up at her apartment late one Sunday night she didn’t recognize the man with whom she’d been involved. He’d lost weight, his eyes were sunken, he’d grown a beard and his hair was fashioned into twists. When she’d asked where he’d been, his response was he’d gone away to try and find himself. It was then that he began stalking her and unbeknownst to her, planning to kill her.

“Selena?”

Xavier’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Yes?”

“How often do you do that?”

“Do what?” she asked.

“Zone out.”

Droplets of heat pricked her face. “I’m sorry. What else do you need to know about me?”

“How long have you lived in Charleston?”

“About a year and a half. I opened Sweet Persuasions six months ago. I’ve never been married and you already know I’m not involved with anyone.”

“Is that by choice?”

A soft gasp escaped Selena’s lips. She sat there stunned, unable to believe Xavier had asked her that question. “Of course it’s by choice.”

“Don’t act so put out, Ms. Yates. After all, you were the one who said you didn’t like people hooking you up. Suppose you’d met someone you liked. Would you get involved?”

Resting her elbows on the table, she shortened the small distance separating them. “Are you asking if I would consider seeing you, Mr. Eaton?” There was a hint of laughter in her voice.

Xavier eyes lingered on her parted lips before meeting her amused gaze. “No. I would never be that presumptuous,” he said, unaware that his approval rating had gone up several points with Selena.

She wrinkled her nose. “Now it’s your turn. Give me a quick overview of Xavier Eaton so I don’t embarrass myself when someone asks me about my date.”

“I’m thirty-four, a marine—”

“I thought you were no longer active military.”

He wagged his finger. “Shame on you. Didn’t your brother teach you, Once a Marine Always a Marine?”

“Now, how could I forget that?” Selena said jokingly, as she hit her forehead.

“I don’t know,” Xavier crooned.

She rolled her eyes at him. “I owe you for that one.” Xavier responded with a wink. Suddenly he appeared carefree and boyish, qualities she didn’t think he possessed.

Xavier curbed the urge to run his finger down the length of Selena’s nose. He didn’t know what it was about her utterly adorable nose that captivated him. “I met Bobby Bell when we were cadets at The Citadel. I lived on campus while Bobby commuted. When I didn’t go home to Philadelphia for holidays and school breaks, I could be found at Bobby’s house. I became his unofficial brother. We managed to stay in touch after graduation, but lost contact with each other once he was assigned to the American embassy in Istanbul. After I was deployed to Iraq, and later Afghanistan, I lost touch with everyone I knew at The Citadel.”

The seconds ticked as Selena gave Xavier a long, penetrating stare. “Were you injured in combat?” He nodded, then went completely still as if he’d been carved out of stone. “Why did you decide to return to Charleston?” she asked, changing the topic.

Xavier breathed an audible sigh. He didn’t like talking about the war because the images of what he’d done and seen were indelibly imprinted in his mind. There were times when he woke up struggling to breathe, his heart racing uncontrollably from the nightmares that haunted him once he was no longer on active duty.

“I like this city.”

“You like this city?” Selena said.

“Isn’t that enough?” Xavier said. “You moved from West Virginia to California to go to school, but instead of returning home you decided to put down roots in South Carolina.”

“There’s a reason why I didn’t go back to West Virginia.” She knew she sounded defensive, but Selena wasn’t about to spill her guts to a man who she was just pretending to date.

Xavier crossed his injured right leg over his left knee. He was able to get around without a cane now, but there were times when the dull ache was a reminder of how close he’d come to losing the limb. “Were you running away from an old boyfriend?”

Years of acting training kicked in when Selena’s face belied the tension of the knot that had formed in her stomach. She didn’t and couldn’t tell Xavier how close he was to the truth. “I didn’t have a boyfriend when I lived in Matewan.”

“Did you have one when you lived in California?”

“I thought we were talking about you?” she retorted, unable to hide her annoyance.

Folding his arms across his chest, Xavier angled his head and studied the woman who’d become more of an enigma with each passing minute. Initially she was open and friendly, willing to talk about anything. But, whenever he mentioned her involvement with a man she always managed to change the subject. He wondered if she’d had a bad relationship. She was an attractive, intelligent and talented twenty-six-year-old who probably had a steady stream of men coming into Sweet Persuasions just to catch a glimpse of her. Most women would revel in the attention, but for Selena it seemed to be just the opposite.

“I’m sorry if I hit a nerve.”

“You didn’t hit a nerve, Xavier. You were prying. After all, I didn’t ask you about the women in your life.”

A hint of a smile softened his mouth. “There are only two women in my life at the moment—my mother and sister.”

It was Selena’s turn to smile. “Is that your way of telling me that you’re not involved with anyone?”

“I thought I was being subtle.”

Her smile became a full-on grin. “I don’t think so.”

“Damn!” he drawled. “Is there anything else you need to know about me?”

“No.”

There was a lot more Selena wanted to know about Xavier Eaton, but only if she’d been interested in becoming involved with him.

Xavier stood up. Their cross-examination had ended. He believed he’d garnered enough information about Selena to feel comfortable pretending to be her boyfriend. “I’d better give you that mailing information for the cheesecake and pretzels. When do you think they’ll be shipped out?”

“That depends on if you want them delivered Sunday or Monday.”

“I’d like a Sunday delivery.” He completed the shipping form, handing it to Selena, who’d stood up. “How long will it take to get to Ma Bell’s from here?”

“It shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.” Selena gave him the address.

Xavier didn’t tell her the restaurant was less than a quarter mile from his house. Although he’d moved back to Charleston, he hadn’t had the time to get acquainted with his adopted city. After he’d received his appointment to Munroe, he’d purchased a house in Charleston’s historic district that needed extensive renovations. Before he relocated however, he used to drive from Philadelphia to Charleston every two weeks to look at the progress and confer with the contractor.

It wasn’t until the first week of August that he moved into his house, which was known as a Charleston single house. It was representative of the city’s nineteenth-century period architecture, in which many houses were one-room wide for cross-ventilation, with each room opening into the next, fronting the street, with a full-length veranda on the side, often with a two-story porch overlooking a garden. Many of the rooms in Xavier’s house were empty. Some were awaiting delivery of furniture, while others would remain empty until he decided how he wanted to decorate them. As long as he had something to sit on, eat on and a place to sleep, Xavier didn’t feel the need to fill up his first home with things that didn’t fit in.

“If I pick you up at six-thirty, will that give you enough time to get ready?”

Selena glanced at the wall clock. It was minutes after five. That meant she had a little more than an hour to get ready for her date. “It’s enough time.”

Reaching into the pocket of his slacks, Xavier removed his credit card. “Where shall I pick you up?”

“I’ll meet you on the block behind the shop. I live upstairs,” she explained when seeing his puzzled expression.

“Now that’s what I call a sweet setup. You never have to worry about the weather or getting tied up in traffic to get to work.”

“It’s nice. Sometimes when I can’t sleep, I come down and bake.” Selena waved away the card. “You’re going to have to pay me later, after they restore telephone service.”

Xavier returned the card to the case. “Are you always this trusting?”

“Don’t play yourself, Xavier P. Eaton. Remember I have your credit card information on file. And if you try to stiff me, I’ll bill your account for three times the amount.”

“You wouldn’t,” he deadpanned.

“Oh, yes, I would. Remember, I come from coal-mining stock. There aren’t too many folks tougher or more resilient than coal miners.”

“One of these days I’d like to hear about it.”

Selena shook her head. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, Xavier.”

“Why, Selena?” His voice sounded low and seductive.

“That would mean another date.”

He took a step, bringing them less than a foot apart. Everything that was Selena Yates swept over him, pulling him in and refusing to let him go. He’d tried to remain unaffected but he’d failed miserably. Somehow fate had stepped in when Robert Bell walked into Sweet Persuasions to find him with the owner of the patisserie. If his friend had assumed he and Selena were a couple, then he had no intention of correcting the mistake—especially not when he was given the opportunity to take her to dinner without having to work up the nerve to ask her out on a date. It wasn’t his style to come on heavy with a woman, and it usually took several encounters before he would make his move. But Selena was different—just how different he had yet to discover.

“Would that be so horrible?”

Putting her hands on his rock-solid chest, Selena tried to put some space between them. She felt the warmth of his body through the fabric of his shirt. “No, it wouldn’t, but why don’t we just wait and see if we can tolerate each other enough to go out again.”

Grabbing her wrists, Xavier held her captive. “Don’t you think tolerate is too strong a word?”

Lowering her eyes, Selena peered up at him through her lashes. “I can’t count the number of times I’m forced to tolerate dealing with someone—and that includes some of my customers.”

“Is yours truly included in that group?”

“You will if you don’t let me close up and get ready for my date night.”

“I hear you loud and clear, Ms. Yates.” Xavier released her wrists, lowered his head, brushing his mouth over hers in a kiss that was so light she thought she’d imagined it. “I’ll see you later.”

Selena barely had time to react before she registered the chiming of the bell that signaled Xavier had unlocked the door and left. On unsteady legs, she walked over to the door and locked it behind him.

She didn’t know how it had happened, but within the span of half an hour she’d agreed to go to Ma Bell’s for date night with a stranger—a handsome stranger, nonetheless—who until a few days ago she didn’t even know existed. Pressing her back to the door, Selena closed her eyes. What, she mused, was there about Xavier Eaton that made her do and feel things that were totally out of character for practical, level-headed Selena Liliana Yates?

Grandma Lily had called her a hummingbird, forever in motion and her mind flitting from one thing to the other. When her grandfather, who was a carpenter, built her the grandest dollhouse she had ever seen, she’d announced she was going to decorate the rooms using scraps of leftover fabric from her grandmother’s quilting and needlecraft projects. Hand-sewn curtains, crocheted rugs and wallpaper made from colorful adhesive-backed drawer liners were the envy of the girls who came to see what Selena had been bragging about. It had taken years for her to furnish the dollhouse with carefully chosen wood-looking tables and chairs, and appliances made from scrap metal. By the time she’d celebrated her fifteenth birthday she’d lost interest in decorating when she appeared on stage in a school play. The acting bug had bitten her—hard. The dollhouse, which was put in a room where her parents stored old cradles, cribs and other pieces of furniture made by her grandfather and great-grandfather, had been relegated to her childhood.

Never in her wildest dreams could Selena have predicted that she would walk away from acting. She’d barely tasted success when her world fell apart because a man who’d professed his love to her tried to hurt her. She shook her head as if to shake off the memory of Derrick. Working quickly, she transferred trays from the showcase to the walk-in freezer, turned off the lights, punched in the code to the alarm and locked the door behind her.

Selena unlocked the rear door to the staircase that led up to her apartment. Monica had picked up Trisha from school and driven up to Goose Creek to spend the weekend with her parents. Since her neighbor wasn’t around she avoided having to explain why she was going out on a Friday night. As she opened the door to her apartment, she felt a flutter of excitement in the pit of her stomach much like she’d experienced when she had a crush on a boy who was her brother’s friend. Each time he came to the house she scurried away like a frightened mouse, spending the entire time in her bedroom while she’d fantasized about kissing him. It was only when he began dating a girl Selena disliked intensely, that she decided not only was he ugly but he also had ears that stuck out too far.

But there was nothing wrong with Xavier Eaton—at least not on the surface. She had to be careful—very, very careful to look for the signs that he wasn’t what he seemed to be. After what she’d experienced with Derrick, Selena had sworn it would never happen again.