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

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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.

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