Brock sped up, passing Noelle by a full body length as he reached his long arm out and tapped the swimming pool wall almost thirty seconds before she did

Noelle came up behind him, heart hammering in her chest. If she was going to lose, it had better be to someone who was strong enough to race at their full potential.

The race had been exhilarating and she was pumped. So much so that she had completely forgotten about Brock’s reward until the moment he came closer, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her against his chest.

“Now the winner takes the prize,” he said, lowering his head until their lips were a breath apart.

His tight grip around her waist and the close proximity of their bodies felt so right. If this was always the prize, Noelle might be tempted to lose more often.

A.C. ARTHUR,

an award-winning author, resides in Maryland with her husband and three children. She’s had a love of reading, romance novels in particular, since she was a teenager, and writing was the natural next step. Determined to bring a new edge to romance, she continues to develop intriguing plots, sensual love scenes, racy characters and fresh dialogue—always keeping readers on their toes! AC loves to hear from readers via e-mail at acarthur22@yahoo.com.

Full House Seduction
A.C. Arthur

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To Pier and Paris, you hold a very special place

in my heart.

Dear Reader,

Noelle Vincent has been an essential character in the previous Donovan books. Now it’s finally her turn to find love! Feisty, courageous and often impetuous, Noelle has come a long way since her introduction in Jade and Linc’s story as the screwed up younger sister. Now that Noelle’s strapped with a college degree, a high-paying, high-profile job and a killer body, Brock Remington doesn’t stand a chance.

Brock, the adopted cousin of the infamous Donovan brothers, was a case to solve all by himself. With his tattered past and his solitary thoughts, he became the best candidate for Noelle’s partner. Their differences draw them together, while their individual challenges ultimately seal their fate. It was an absolute pleasure getting them together.

In this story you’ll also see some old favorites: Linc, Adam, Jade and Trent. Maxwell Donovan also makes another appearance and you’ll be introduced to a few new members of the Donovan clan—Bailey and Brandon, Brock’s twin siblings. And, as if I haven’t already given you enough to think about, Sam Desdune from Guarding His Body has once again stepped in to help his partner, Trent, and catches the attention of Karena Lakefield. I hope you enjoy Full House Seduction.

Stay tuned to the Donovans as they join forces with other high-powered, strong and loyal African-American families such as the Desdunes, the Bennetts and the Lakefields of Manhattan.

Happy reading!

AC

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 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Epilogue

Chapter 1

How did I get here? Noelle Vincent asked herself as she settled into the soft leather seats of the Donovan jet.

Her bags had been stowed, her laptop and briefcase were lying in the seat beside her and her temples pulsed with a budding headache.

Glancing out the window, she swallowed, then took a deep breath. She was not a fan of flying, so flying across country definitely was not on her “to do list.” Her brother-in-law knew that and for some insane reason simply did not care.

“Break down your barriers,” he’d told her simply. He was always saying things like that to her, giving her endless advice and motivation. “Your life would be so much fuller if you’d open yourself up to truly living it.”

Noelle had thought about his words for the rest of that evening, and in the morning had begun packing. She’d never been this far away from home before, never been this much on her own. But Linc had confidence in her. He believed she could handle this job, that she could manage his new casino on her own.

Twenty-four months ago, Linc had believed that she could learn the business of running a casino, so much so that he’d insisted she enroll at the local community college, taking business courses by day while working right beside him at the Gramercy Casino in their hometown of Las Vegas at night. When she’d graduated with her AA degree he’d promoted her, telling her that this was just the beginning. Noelle had been nervous then, too, but Linc had insisted she was going to succeed. And she had.

He’d had faith in her then, when she was nothing but a screwup, so his continued trust in her abilities now were not to be taken lightly. That’s why she was on this plane, flying across country, because Linc had put her there and he expected her to, once again, succeed. She would not let him down.

Lincoln Donovan, oldest son of Beverly and Henry Donovan, whose name was like a household word in Las Vegas due to their generous charitable contributions and philanthropic work, was sexy and arrogant. He was the owner of the Gramercy Casino and married to Noelle’s older sister, Jade. Linc and Jade—about two months ago—just had their first set of twins, Torian and Tamala, who were just about the cutest little girls Noelle had ever seen. The birth had been an occasion with Linc’s younger brother and his fiancée, Adam and Camille; his parents; Max and Ben, the Donovan cousins; and Noelle and Linc all squeezed into Jade’s birthing room. When the moment they’d all been waiting for finally came, the guests were escorted out, all except Linc, Noelle, Beverly and Henry. It had been emotional and uplifting to watch her sister bring life into the world.

And it had been heartbreaking.

No, not really heartbreaking, more like eye-opening. Here she was, Noelle Olivia Vincent, a twenty-six-year-old college graduate, still living with her big sister and still unwed, without any prospects.

And now sitting on a plane, fastening her seat belt and trying like hell to keep her breakfast in her stomach where it belonged.

How did she get here? Not on this plane per se—because she’d already answered that one—but here, at this point in her life. That question had been on her mind more and more these days.

In the immediate sense she had an answer.

Her destination was Maryland, the Eastern Shore, near a town called St. Michaels to be exact. After all the site searching she’d done in L.A. and San Francisco, Linc had decided the extension of his famous casino would be on the east coast. Most likely because his brother Trent and Trent’s friend Sam Desdune had just successfully opened a private investigation firm, one on the east coast and one on the west. Linc liked the idea of having the Donovan name represented on both sides of the country, and since he had family in Maryland, that was the logical choice.

Noelle had been working for Linc at the Gramercy since she’d lost five thousand dollars in the casino and her sister, Jade, had bargained with Linc to work it off. That little bargain had opened the door to Jade’s happily ever after. The thought never failed to make Noelle smile.

Now, two years and a college degree later, Noelle was a fantastic manager; Linc had said so himself. And he had shown his confidence in her by sending her to oversee the building and opening of the Gramercy II, the new casino she still wished were going to be in L.A.

Still, in the past couple of years Noelle had learned to take new developments in stride. And where the Donovan men were concerned, there was always something new. Trent and Tia were the newest of surprises. Who would have ever thought that Trent Donovan with his military training and fanatical outlook would end up with a beautiful supermodel? Noelle certainly didn’t but had to admit that after spending some time with Tia in L.A. and getting to know her, she was the perfect match for Trent. Now they were expecting a baby and planning to get married. Trent had wanted a quick ceremony, but Tia refused to steal Camille’s spotlight. Camille and Adam had just been married two weeks ago. Now, Noelle presumed, Trent would finally get Tia to agree to a quickie ceremony. And they’d better let her know when so she could fly back for the festivities.

They were her family now, the Donovans and their wives, complete with their notoriety and connections. Noelle hadn’t had family in a long time and didn’t want to be away from them for too long.

Karena Lakefield, Noelle’s best friend, even though she spent most of her time traveling the world as a buyer for her family’s art museum, had insisted this was an excellent opportunity for Noelle. But Noelle knew what she really meant. It was a good time to get away from Vegas, from Luther and the whirlwind of drama he’d inflicted on her life.

For that, Noelle would endure the long flight and the summer months on the shore. She would endure the frizzy hair she was likely to sport as a result of the humidity and salt water combined. She would handle being away from her twin nieces and her big sister and the men she’d come to know and love as brothers.

She would go to Maryland and work like hell to once again prove that she could succeed in business, even if not in love.

Time was wasting and if there was one thing Brock Remington hated, it was wasting time.

Looping his thumbs in his belt loops he stood, legs spread, jaw clenching, eyes glued to the runway. Linc said the plane should be pulling in at four-thirty. It was five minutes to five. He should have had her—the site manager—in tow and been on his way back to his house by now. Instead he was standing here in the middle of the private hangar where it seemed too many damned people mulled about, talking and laughing and generally getting on his nerves.

Brock was a loner, raised by Albert and Darla Donovan, oil tycoons and his adoptive parents, who already had fraternal twins, Brandon and Bailey. He wasn’t a Donovan by blood—in his estimation the relation came only by pity. His biological parents had a tumultuous relationship at best, from their family feud to the secret marriage and finally the scandal that rocked the small Cambridge, Maryland, town where they lived. The Remingtons became known throughout the town when Brock’s father, Jure Remington, was brutally murdered and his mother, Tarine, literally lost her mind, leaving Brock a ward of the state because neither his maternal or paternal grandparents wanted anything to do with him. At ten years old, Brock was alone in the world. That is until Albert and Darla Donovan, who were friends of Brock’s parents, rescued the angry and confused boy and took him to live in Texas. For that, Brock was grateful. Living with the Donovans was clearly better than having to spend his formative years in foster care.

Still, he was not a Donovan. A fact Brock was sure to remember. Always.

The moment he’d graduated high school Brock had headed to college in Maryland. And after school he’d stayed there without any fuss from Albert, who by that time was living alone in Houston because Darla had died two years prior from breast cancer. A part of Brock had wanted to go back, to stay with the man who’d been a father to him. But Albert wasn’t hearing it. He told Brock he had his own life to lead and he’d think less of him if he didn’t lead it. That’s what Brock had always loved about Albert—he was honest and keen and did what was best for others, despite what he wanted for himself.

The sense of never truly belonging anywhere or with anyone manifested in Brock so that now, at almost thirty-two years old, he was resigned to being alone and not looking to change that situation.

Soon after college Brock opened Remington Construction with money from a trust fund that had been set up for him by his birth parents upon his birth. He’d built his home overlooking the sparkling waters of the Chesapeake Bay, just outside the small town of St. Michaels, and he was living his life just the way he wanted to.

Until today.

Lincoln Donovan was his cousin, an astutely intelligent man with a mind for business and a desire to make money. Brock could relate to both things on a baser level. He wasn’t money hungry, but he lived comfortably on his trust fund and the profits from his construction company. He knew how to run a business and how to keep the money flowing in, but he was more focused on the contentment and stability that having his own brought.

Linc had given Brock a brief overview about the current manager at the Gramercy in Las Vegas. She was Linc’s sister-in-law, the younger sister of his wife, Jade. She was a recent college graduate with a sharp mind and an eye for detail. She was also a spitfire with a great sense of humor. The latter didn’t matter to Brock—he was only concerned with her work attributes.

“When I decided to open another casino, I knew instantly she’d be the one to run it,” Linc had said in one of their many phone conferences. Since Jade’s last month of the pregnancy Linc hadn’t been able to travel, so he and Brock had weekly updates scheduled to go over the Gramercy II’s progress.

Building this casino had definitely been a coup for Brock because his company specialized mostly in vacation homes. Brock, along with his best friend, Kent Foster, an architect of the highest caliber, set out to create a casino unlike any ever built before in the continental U.S. And after yesterday’s walk-through he was proud to say they’d done a damn good job.

Now, he was waiting for the site manager, hoping his beautifully designed and built casino wasn’t about to go through the onslaught of female scrutiny. Granted, Kent’s wife, Josette, was an interior designer and had already been slated to work on the casino’s basic design scheme. But Brock knew Josette, had known her for more than five years now, and they worked well together. Outside of Linc’s praise, he didn’t know the site manager or how well they’d work together.

Brock was wary of strangers, outsiders from his world. Some would say that was odd having been the outsider all his life. All Brock knew was that his generally solitary lifestyle worked for him. The less interaction he had with people he didn’t know, the better.

Besides that, he didn’t want anybody coming along slowing down his progress. Linc wanted the Gramercy II up and running by September, no later than October. He wanted as much holiday money spent in the casino as possible. It was already early June. If this site manager’s eye for detail meant she was prone to start fussing about wallpapers and paints and who knew what else, then Brock and this project were definitely in for a long summer.

“Hi. I’m Noelle Vincent. I think you’re expecting me.”

Brock heard the voice and snapped out of his reverie. He’d been so focused on his thoughts, so intent on what he didn’t want this manager from the west coast to do to his casino that he hadn’t even noticed the plane had landed. With a sharp movement he turned and was quickly face-to-face with her.

She’d extended her hand and was smiling up at him, obviously waiting for him to act or get lost. He chose the former and cleared his throat. “Yes. I’m Brock Remington,” he said, reaching to clasp her hand.

Damn, it was soft.

He’d been hoping that her million-watt smile and sparkling light brown eyes weren’t actually as attractive as he’d first thought. But coupled with her soft hands and that sweet buttermilk complexion, he was dead wrong. His earlier projection was now corrected—this was going to be a long, hot summer.

Chapter 2

“Nice to meet you, Brock. Linc told me a lot about you.” She adjusted her purse and a smaller bag on her right shoulder.

“Oh, really? I don’t even want to know the specifics.”

She laughed. Brock liked the sound.

Her hair, hanging just past her shoulders in three intriguing shades of brown, all intertwined to create its own enticing rainbow, slipped back, revealing a long slender neck. Brock’s entire body heated. Even living a solitary life he still made time to enjoy a woman on occasion and this was definitely a woman he could enjoy.

With that thought his brow furrowed and his hands slipped into his pockets. The last thing he should be thinking about was enjoying the woman he was supposed to work with. He cleared his throat. “We should get going.”

“Lead the way,” she said in a voice that was way too chipper for the way he was beginning to feel.

“Wow, it’s almost as warm here as it was back in Vegas,” Noelle said the moment they stepped outside of the small airport.

Brock walked a step or two in front of her, not intending to be rude, rather trying to keep his mind on business where it should be. Although not blood related, Brock was just as intense and notorious when it came to a good-looking woman as the rest of the Donovan men.

The sound of her voice growing louder clued him in to how ill mannered he must appear, and so he slowed down until she caught up. A breeze, warm and thick, sifted through the air. The scent of her perfume went right up into his nose and he sighed.

“My truck’s just over here,” he said, directing her toward the parking lot.

As she walked beside him he noticed how tall she was. At six feet two inches, the top of most female heads came midchest to Brock. Noelle, however, was at shoulder level, which was actually the perfect kissing height. The minute that thought crossed his mind, Brock knew he was doomed.

“It was ninety-three degrees when I left Vegas, with eighty-five percent humidity,” she was saying when Brock had to blink quickly and refocus once more.

Lifting a hand she pulled her hair together, then fanned the back of her neck. “What’s it here, about one hundred percent humidity? I thought that since you were close to the Chesapeake Bay, it would be much cooler.”

Brock took a deep breath, inhaling the sultry air of which she spoke. He needed to get a grip. She just stepped off the plane and was being nothing but cordial to him and here he was with the beginnings of sexual thoughts about a woman he’d known less than ten minutes.

“The evenings are cooler,” he added, quickly cringing inwardly because he felt his remark sounded idiotic. “Here we are.” Grateful, he unlocked the doors to his Ford F-350 truck and stood at the passenger side ready to help her up.

“Great ride,” she commented, and there was that smile again.

Brock felt it, as plainly as she felt the heat, that little tug in his gut as her mouth spread wide, her high cheekbones made even higher. And her eyes—he’d heard it said before that eyes sparkled, he’d even seen it written in the poetry he’d been forced to read in his literature class in college. Yet Brock had always found the euphemism sappy and unrealistic, until today. Until Noelle.

Damn, he’s uptight, Noelle thought the minute he slammed the door.

Pulling her seat belt over her chest and making it click, she shook her head. He was also fine as hell. Normally the rugged look wasn’t her preference, but then she’d never seen a man wear a pair of jeans the way Brock Remington did. He walked with a slow precision that put you in mind of hot summer days, winding porches with white wicker furniture and tall glasses of lemonade. With his tight ass and a slow eastern drawl she’d bet there were women lined up to date him.

Okay, calm down, that’s the absolute last thing she should be thinking.

Once inside he immediately started the truck and Noelle looked out the window, giving up on casual conversation. She’d broached the usual subject, the weather, and he’d just about brushed it off, opting for more clipped answers than actual participation. So if he wanted to be quiet, she could oblige. She had a lot of things going on in her life that could bear thinking over.

Not that she was a fan of giving her problems a lot of thought. Then again, the way she’d been dealing with things so far hadn’t proved successful, so why not go for the change now?

Surprise, surprise, what should be the first issue to come to mind? Luther Simmons. Now that was a chapter Noelle was glad she’d finally closed the book on. As hot and intense as their affair had been, its demise followed a similar suit. Luther had come into her life like a whirlwind. She’d met him one night at the casino, watched him lose a few grand at the blackjack table without breaking a sweat, then stopped by to speak to some of the regulars and ended up leaving the table with him. He’d waited for her to finish with her shift, at which time they’d shared her favorite cappuccino and chocolate chip cookies that evening at the restaurant.

She’d been instantly overwhelmed by his charm and his quick wit. Surely a man like this couldn’t be a free agent, Noelle distinctly remembered thinking. And yet the next evening when Luther showed up at the blackjack table once more she’d been elated to see him. The physical aspect of their relationship happened fast, too fast, and before she knew it she was spending all of her free time in Luther’s arms.

Finally, as were so many things in her life, her time with Luther became too good to be true. And before the end of the second month that they’d been together she found out he was married.

Leaving him alone had been a no-brainer at that point; unfortunately, Luther was the hard-headed type. For the next four weeks he’d bombarded her with phone calls and gifts and then the pop-ups at her job started. Afraid that Linc, or worse, Trent Donovan, the ex-Navy SEAL turned private investigator with a fuse as short as her baby finger, would find out, and on the advice of her friend, Karena, she’d obtained a restraining order. Somebody probably should have warned her that those pieces of paper were just about worthless when it came to a man like Luther.

He wasn’t your typical stalker in that he wasn’t slashing her tires or breaking into her house—which would have been almost suicidal, since she still lived with Jade and Linc. No, instead, Luther sent her text messages, e-mails and letters by mail, all asking her to give him another chance, to give their love another chance. Luther was definitely not a threat—he was what they called a lover, not a fighter. So in the twisted world of stalkers, Luther was very low on the totem pole and Noelle was not afraid of him.

What she was, however, was tired. Sick and tired, to be correct, of all the drama. It seemed as if her entire life had revolved around the word. Whether she was a magnet for it or somehow thrived from the chaos, it was always there.

She’d told Jade a little bit about Luther, only because her sister was a constant worrywart where she was concerned and when she overheard a heated conversation Noelle was having on the phone with Luther, she’d questioned her. Jade had wanted to run directly to Linc, but Noelle had stopped her. Thank God.

The last thing she wanted was to bring this type of mess into the Donovan family. They’d all been so nice and loving to her over these past two years that she owed them so much more than to have some crazy married man trying to win back the affection she’d so foolishly given him.

“Cheer up. My house is air-conditioned,” Brock said as he watched her still sitting in the seat staring straight ahead. He’d gotten out of the car and had been holding the door open for a few minutes now, waiting for her to get out.

When she still hadn’t moved he touched a hand to her arm. She jerked, then those hypnotic eyes found his. He swallowed and willed himself not to have any other reaction. “You all right?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice just a little agitated because for a moment she’d forgotten where she was and who she was with. “I’m fine.” Pulling her arm out of his reach, she jumped down from the cab.

And just like that she moved past him, walking along the pathway toward the side door of his house. Taking her luggage out of the car, Brock figured that whatever was on her mind was her business. The fact that she now looked almost haunted shouldn’t have bothered him. And yet, it did.

His house was gorgeous. As far as spacious rooms, hardwood floors and a terrific view of the water went. However, it was a little on the empty side where furniture was concerned.

The concept that less meant…well, less, continued on into the kitchen where alongside the stainless steel appliances and on top of the blue-flecked granite countertop was a coffeemaker, with the smallest coffeepot Noelle had ever seen. Next to the pot was a medium-sized canister of decaffeinated coffee in a pretty average brand. There was a dishwasher but it looked barely used, no fingerprints at or near the handle as you’d usually see with stainless steel. Beside the dish drainer to the right of the double sink she spied a mug, one bowl and one spoon inside it, probably left over from his breakfast. It was quite neat for the kitchen of a man, riding close to the definition of sterile. However, it fit right along with Brock’s seemingly uptight demeanor.

But it was when they walked out onto the screened porch with its brick-encased fireplace that Noelle felt something slightly different. The furniture was made of heavy oak with deep, inviting cushions in a soft caramel tone. Rugs, not Oriental but plush and functional, aligned the tiled floor. There were coffee tables and end tables, but they only held lamps and the remote control to the entertainment system that lined one entire wall, she assumed. The fireplace looked well used, just as the chair closest to it. He sat there, she imagined, put his feet up on the table and read one of the books stuffed into the bookshelf in the living room.

“You spend a lot of time out here?” she asked, letting her hand touch the softness of the chair before sitting down.

“I do,” he admitted with a slightly questioning tone.

“You’re not a man of many words, are you?” Noelle asked, already assuming she’d get another one- to two-word response.

“I get by.”

She nodded and retained a knowing grin. This was going to be a long, dismal summer for her—getting by on his sparse answers and trying to make sense of them.

“So let’s talk about the casino,” she said because there was no use trying to discuss anything else. Brock Remington was not a talker. That was fine—she wasn’t here to talk or to get to know him. She was here to work and that’s all she planned to do, no matter how well he wore his jeans.

Chapter 3

It was all about business, Brock reminded himself as he pulled out the blueprints he’d retrieved from his office and laid them on the coffee table on the porch in front of her. She bent forward, letting her elbows rest on her knees as she surveyed them.

She wore jeans, fitted to perfection, he might add, and a T-shirt with “Las Vegas” in glittering, swirling letters across her breasts. If Brock had ever wanted to be something in his next life it would be those letters. Looking as if it was costing her dearly to sit still, she tapped her feet on the floor while she studied the papers.

For a moment Brock wondered if she even knew what she was looking at, then chastised himself for assuming that just because she was gorgeous and stacked like a Playboy magazine model that she didn’t have an ounce of sense. Linc had told him how she’d obtained her degree and still took managerial classes to keep sharp on the job. He’d be wise to remember that instead of the way that denim hugged her plump bottom.

“This is a different concept you’ve used,” she was saying.

Taking a seat in his favorite chair, Brock nodded. “Most casinos are designed to spread out, with gaming facilities going horizontally and hotel towers on top. My architect and I decided to break from the norm. Luckily Linc approved.”

She nodded. “I can see why he did.”

Taking that as a compliment, Brock cracked a small smile. “Do you like it?”

He wasn’t prepared for her to look up at him in response, but she did. She didn’t smile, but the twinkle in her eye said she was pleased. “I do. I think it’s more than functional—it’s unique. Having a dash of gaming, entertainment and suites on each floor is a great opportunity for us to capitalize on every guest.”

“Exactly. The idea is that no matter where the guest goes in the facility they’ll have options of where and how to spend their money.”

“And that’s the name of the game.”

She did smile then and he joined her, relaxing a bit. She was in his space, a place where he normally didn’t allow women he barely knew. But since he’d known they would need to work long grueling hours to get the Gramercy II up and running, he’d been the one to suggest to Linc that she simply stay at the house with him instead of getting a hotel room. Surprisingly, both Linc and Noelle had thought that a wise idea.

When they’d toured the house he’d been on edge, wondering what she thought about what she was seeing. He didn’t put a lot of time and energy into decorating, much to Josette’s dismay. He functioned on the bare necessities, which could come off as sparse to some. But since he never entertained, beyond having Josette and Kent over to light up the grill, it didn’t matter.

Speaking of which, he said, “I planned to put a couple of steaks on the grill for dinner. Is that okay with you?”

“Ah, yeah. That’s fine. I like steak.”

He nodded. “Good.”

“What I don’t like are all these windows.”

Brock looked around and frowned. “It’s a screened porch,” he said in defense.

“What? Oh, no, not here. The porch is nice. It’s comfortable and probably relaxing after a long day’s work.” She tapped a finger to the blueprint. “I’m talking about at the casino. You have to know that reminding the guest of the time distracts them from gambling. They’ll realize how long they’ve been at one table if they can see that when they came in it was daylight and now it’s dark.”

He felt like an idiot. Of course she was talking about the casino.

“Normally that’s true,” he said, clearing his throat. “But we’ve designed some special effects lighting that will change the moods. So the guest isn’t reminded of the time but entranced by the ambiance.”

She looked to be thinking that over, her hair brushing over her shoulders as she nodded. “That might work. Now what about here? What’s this?”

“The waterfall cove,” he answered. “People in this region are in love with the water so we decided to keep that as the recurring theme. Instead of something as ostentatious and played out as pyramids and Egyptian or Venetian themes, we thought we’d simply let nature take its course, per se.”

“Your architect is a genius. Who’s the interior designer? I’ll need to meet with them sometime this week to go over how this theme is being incorporated. I think something subtle, classic lines, use of basic materials, copper, bronze, stuff like that will go well with the natural flow. Oh, and I want to make sure we’re being as green as possible.”

“Green?”

“Yes, as in the environment. Wherever possible we need to conserve, recycle, save the Earth.”

Brock held up a hand as she looked like she would go into more explanation. “I get it. Kent Foster is the architect. He has an even more talented wife. Come to think of it, she’s better looking than Kent, too.” He laughed. “I’ve contracted her for the interior designing.”

“Keeping it all in the family, huh?”

Brock instantly sobered. “They’re not my family,” he snapped, and the air around them chilled.

It was like walking on eggshells, Noelle thought dismally. She’d replayed their conversation in her mind at least three times since he’d bolted up out of the chair and began readying the grill for their steak dinner, she supposed.

After the third time she figured to hell with it. If he was some crazy, emotional head case she could do without that drama. Hadn’t she had enough of that going on in her life already? No, she definitely was not in the mood. Therefore, her next thought was that she had no intention of dealing with Brock Remington on any level other than their work on the casino. In that area he seemed knowledgeable, confident, not nearly as agitated.

From the moment she’d introduced herself to him he’d acted as if she’d done something to offend him personally. Which, by the way, in her past could have been entirely true. But Noelle was no longer that immature girl. She’d grown in the years she’d known the Donovans, in the time she’d watched her sister find the happiness she deserved. So again, she had no idea what Brock’s problem was.

Hearing her cell phone chime, she stood, walked to where she’d placed her purse on the chair closest to the doorway that led into the house and retrieved it. After checking her caller ID first, she breathed a sigh of relief to see it was Jade.

“Hi,” Noelle said with a smile.

“Hi. You didn’t call when you landed so I worried.”

“You always worry.”

“That’s what big sisters do. So how’s it going? How was the plane ride? Is the Eastern Shore as beautiful in the summer as the brochure says? How’s Brock? Are you being nice to him?”

“Whoa, hold on with the interrogation.” Noelle chuckled then looked over her shoulder to see that Brock still had his back to her, still focusing on getting the grill started. But as a precaution Noelle moved into the foyer of the house, out of his earshot.

“The plane ride wasn’t as bad as I thought. Flying on a private jet is much more relaxing than going commercial. As for the scenery, from what I’ve seen it’s nice. Lots of trees and grass and pretty flowers. It’s hot as hell here, though.”

“You’re used to the heat.”

“No, Vegas heat is dry. This is sticky, sultry, but I shall survive.”

“Ok, so how’s Brock? Linc said he just had his house built a couple of years ago. Is it nice?”

“It’s a beautiful home. And it’s right on the water. There’s a small village just a few miles away that he said we’d visit maybe tomorrow to get more of the Eastern Shore feel. But I had a tour of the house and it’s okay, if you like this sort of thing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Even though she knew Jade couldn’t see her, Noelle shrugged. “I mean, it’s really nice, a little sparse for my tastes, but I get the impression he’s a man with minimal needs.”

“Where is he now?”

“Making dinner.”

“Oh, a man that cooks. That’s heavenly. Linc can barely warm a bottle for the girls, let alone cook a meal.”

“Calm down—it’s on the grill. That’s like second nature to them. If a man can’t handle a grill, he’s got real issues.”

Jade laughed. “Well, I just wanted to check up on you and make sure things were going smoothly.”

I wouldn’t exactly say smoothly, she thought, remembering the way Brock had just about raced away from her and their conversation. “I’m not on vacation, Jade. We’re going over the plans for the casino and I suspect we’ll get right to work tomorrow. It’s no big deal.”

“It’s just that you’ve never been this far away from me, so allow me a little worry for the time being.”

“I’m fine.” While Jade loved the progress Noelle had made—loved the fact that Noelle was no longer partying all night, sleeping most of the day, and basically tossing her life away—she still felt the need to protect her. Noelle respected that to a certain extent because for so long she had depended on her sister for everything—but now she didn’t, now she was standing on her own two feet. No matter what sticky situations they still seemed to walk her into.

“You have two beautiful daughters to worry about now. I’m a big girl. If I can’t get myself out of the trouble I get into, then that’s my problem.”

“Are you in trouble? What really happened with Luther, Noelle? Because you never did tell me a lot about him or why you two stopped seeing each other. All I know is that he had some issues letting go.”

“No,” she answered quickly. “Luther is definitely not a situation. Besides, that’s over and done with and I’m not looking for another relationship until I can find a man who likes me for me and not just my physical attributes.”

Jade sighed. “Listen to you. I remember a time when your physical attributes were your best asset. That’s what you used to say.”

“Yeah, well, that ship has sailed,” Noelle responded. “There’s a new sheriff in town and she’s taking no prisoners so any man that steps to me now better be for real about being with me or else he can just keep on steppin’.”

“I hear you, little sis. And you’re right. You deserve more than a man that simply wants you in his bed.”

“And that’s what I plan to get.” Noelle sighed. “Even if I have to grow old and gray waiting for it.”

Jade chuckled. “Me, I can see growing old and gray. You, on the other hand, will be fifty years old and counting with your hair dyed blond, your party dress on and, oh yes, the hottest, most expensive designer shoes you can find.”

Noelle couldn’t help but smile—her sister knew her all too well.

Chapter 4

“I apologize for earlier,” Brock said after they’d finished cleaning up their dinner dishes. Although after Noelle’s phone call she’d come back out onto the porch as if nothing had happened between them, he felt horrible for the way he’d handled her innocent comment.

It wasn’t her fault he had no real family. And truth be told, the Donovans had been more than welcoming to him. But Brock longed for a blood tie, a real live connection to the people he’d been born from. That’s why he’d come back to Maryland, to be closer to them, hoping that maybe, just maybe, his mother would come around.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t meant to be.

He’d long since stopped going to see his mother at the psychiatric hospital. She had no idea who he was anyway. A search for any other relatives had proved unsuccessful. So it was just him in this world, the last surviving Remington. That thought made him sad more often than Brock liked to admit.

But that gave him no right to take it out on Noelle. Especially since over dinner he’d finally realized what his real issue with her was. He was attracted to her.

That seemed simple enough. Boy meets girl, boy likes what he sees, boy wants girl. Discreet glances to her left hand showed no rings and no shadow of a ring, so he figured she was free. Yet why a man hadn’t laid his claim to her yet was beyond Brock. If he were the type, he certainly would have. It was a good thing he had no intentions of claiming any woman, ever.

Shrugging, she was already heading for the steps. “Already forgotten,” she said brightly. “I’m just going to head on up to bed. Plane rides aren’t my favorite so I didn’t get a lot of rest last night from worrying about it. I know it should probably feel earlier to me, still, I’m tired. What time are we heading to the casino in the morning?”

Brock was right behind her, after switching off the only lights they’d used on the downstairs level. He’d locked the house up while she cleaned the countertops in the kitchen. Watching her bottom as she leaned over the granite top had become more than a little uncomfortable so he’d opted for some space. Now, however, with her standing on the step above him, he was afforded yet another gracious view of her gorgeous body.

It should be a sin, he told himself when he’d seen her for the first time at the airport. A sin and a shame that God created such a beautifully enticing woman. Keeping his hands off her was not a viable option, Brock finally decided.

“I thought we could tour St. Michaels, then head back up the coast toward Easton and the construction site. I’ve asked Kent and Josette to meet us there around noon.”

“That sounds good,” she said, and began walking up the stairs.

Brock followed with his eyes glued to the alluring sway of her hips, the generous curve of her bottom. She had long legs with meaty thighs. Brock was definitely into women who had some meat on their bones. Although thin might be in for some, he preferred having something solid to hold on to in bed.

Noelle Vincent was definitely solid. With her height she was evenly proportioned, with curves and thickness that had his mouth watering. It had been quite some time since he’d had such a strong physical reaction to a woman. According to Kent, way too long. He’d have to thank Linc for sending him this surprise package.

The mere thought of Linc and this project brought forth questions of whether or not it was wise to cross the line with Noelle. A couple of hours ago he’d been worried about her holding up the project, but not in this way. As with everything else in his life, Brock liked to play his cards close to the vest. So he vowed that the inevitable seduction of the enticing Noelle Vincent would be slow, drawn out and extremely pleasing.

With that out of the way the question still remained: How would making a move on Noelle play against their casino business? Generally speaking, people who were working together didn’t do well in relationships. But because Brock clearly wasn’t looking for a relationship, she was fair game.

That’s where his thoughts were leaning when she stopped in front of the door to the guest room he’d told her was hers. He’d left her bags in there earlier but hadn’t been paying much attention to walking so when she stopped he bumped into her.

“Slow down,” she said, turning and placing both her palms on his chest to stop him.

As their bodies touched, something inside Brock clicked as if falling right into place. “Sorry about that,” he said immediately but couldn’t make himself take a step backward, a step away from her.

“I’d say you were intoxicated but I know you only had an iced tea with dinner. Which was very tasty, by the way. Jade was impressed by a man that could cook. I’ll have to tell her that you did the job very well.”

He chuckled, and Noelle felt little twinges in her stomach. He hadn’t laughed once during dinner. It was a nice sound, deep and rich. His eyes crinkled ever so slightly at the corners when he did and she figured he obviously didn’t laugh often. Pity, she thought.

Brock Remington was a very nice-looking man, with his bronzed skin and close-cut dark brown hair. The strong bone structure of his face could be presumed as intimidating, but Noelle thought it showed strength and endurance. His eyes were a light shade of brown, not as light as hers but certainly not as dark as his hair. He had a great body—she’d already checked that out when they were downstairs—and his attire was casual yet attractive. Jeans and Timberland boots had never looked so good on a man to her before. His Ralph Lauren polo shirt was a summery shade of coral, which was a great accent to his complexion. In short, he was quite a tasty morsel to look at. If one were looking, that is.

“You talked to your sister about me already?”

He was more than in her space, backing her up against the door. Surely this was inappropriate…but that didn’t stop it from feeling good.

“She called earlier and asked how things were going. I told her you were being very hospitable.”

“Even though at that point I wasn’t?”

Noelle waved a hand. “I told you that was already forgotten. I may have been a little out of line. Sometimes my mouth moves faster than my brain. It’s a horrible habit that’s gotten me into lots of trouble.”

He cocked his head to the side, his eyes fixated on the mouth she spoke of. “Trouble, huh? I can just imagine.”

Right there, in that hallway where they stood, the temperature seemed to rise another fifty degrees, so that tiny beads of sweat had begun to form in the valley between her breasts. That, coupled with his proximity and the timbre his voice had lowered to when he’d just spoken gave Noelle a slight start. If she didn’t know better she’d think…

Before she could actually finish that thought, his hand was cupping the nape of her neck, pulling her the half step closer that landed her chest flush against his.

“It’s such a pretty mouth. When I look at it I can only imagine good things,” he said gruffly.

This wasn’t right, some distant voice spoke in the back of her mind. This wasn’t what she was here for. And yet she’d seemed to fit against his strong body so perfectly. His mouth somehow knowing exactly how to work hers. Her thighs quivered as in her mind’s eye she could see them together, naked, rolling over a big bed, bodies entwined with one goal in mind—pleasure, mindless, earth-shattering pleasure.

That part moved fast, going into a blur and then there was nothing…once more, for Noelle, there was nothing left.

Her brain attempted to protest and had just sent the message to her mouth, which had opened to do its bidding, when bam!

His lips touched hers, his tongue slipping quickly inside, stroking hers until the heat that surrounded them was transferred directly into her body. From his lips to hers the fire climbed, swarming through her body until her arms were instinctively lifting, wrapping around his neck as his moved to her waist, slipping farther to cup her bottom.

And there she was, back pressed against the bedroom door, his strong hands lifting her until only the tips of her toes touched the floor. She felt trapped, absorbed and terribly aroused all at once. The dance of his tongue around hers made her dizzy, but she didn’t miss a step, opening her mouth wider, tilting her head to take him deeper.

Brock groaned, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her backside. She felt so good against him this had to be a crime or an explicit-as-hell dream. She was kissing him back, this pretty woman he’d just met. Kissing him with a hunger that matched his own.

His erection pounded against his zipper, demanding release. He ground into her, lifting her off the floor, letting his hands move down to her thighs to wrap their solid length around his waist.

Her center was flush against his erection. His hips jerked instinctively. Full breasts pressed against his chest and the blood pounded fiercely in Brock’s ears.

Then she made an indecipherable sound, and through the haze of desire he felt her struggling to break free of his grasp. The word no echoed in his mind, even though he knew she couldn’t possibly have said anything because his lips were still devouring hers. Still, her palms pressing urgently against his chest and her thighs trying to squirm down from him could mean only one thing. Without the conscious consent of his body, his mind roared for him to stop. And when that message finally filtered through, Brock released her completely, taking a step back.

Noelle fell backward against the door with a thump but miraculously remained upright. She looked up at him, unable or unwilling to speak, Brock wasn’t quite sure. Then she was gone, disappearing behind the door in seconds.

As the door to her room clicked shut Brock inhaled a deep, steadying breath.

So much for seducing her slowly.

Chapter 5

So they kissed, that wasn’t so bad. Over and over Noelle told herself this as she moved silently through Brock’s house, passing the porch where they’d shared a nice platonic steak dinner last night. That had been only an hour before he’d kissed her and she’d acted like a deprived sex fiend, crawling all over him as if she just couldn’t get enough.

It wasn’t quite six yet, but the sky was already brightening, the morning coming whether she wanted to face it or not. Now, was it through this door and around to the left or around to the right? Brock had shown her the pool during the tour yesterday. One thing she’d become accustomed to living in Jade and Linc’s spacious home was the indoor and outdoor pools. So the majority of her mornings either started with a brisk run or a couple of laps. Because she didn’t know this area well, Noelle had opted for a swim. She was meeting with Brock in a few hours, so thinking about the kiss and its effect on her would have to wait. Or she’d simply bypass it altogether.

That was one of her other talents—one that she hadn’t figured out whether was good or bad. She could push things aside, put them in their own compartment and pull them out and deal with them when she was ready. And right now, she thought as just a few short feet away—after making the left turn—she’d spotted the pool, she wasn’t ready to deal with the attraction to Brock Remington.

Moving quickly, Noelle dropped her towel on one of the lounge chairs and headed straight for the water. She could dip a toe in to test the water but where was the fun in that? Instead, she dove right in, going almost to the bottom then paddling herself up to the top. Breaking through the water she spewed a bit and took a deep breath. Pushing her wet hair out of her eyes she lay back into a seamless backstroke.

When the sun finally made its appearance, Noelle felt its warm persistent rays against her skin as she continued to move throughout the water.

It was really pretty here, quaint and scenic. So much so that she probably would have never thought to put a new casino in this area. This was either a place for lovers or retirees, like one of those complexes in Florida—Lake Buena something or other.

But Linc had done his research and she’d read the reports. Just forty-five minutes to the south there was a slots-only casino and north in Delaware there was another slots-only casino, with another one in West Virginia. Maryland was prime for a full-fledged gaming facility. The state already boasted a world-class race course at Pimlico, but the Gramercy II would offer gaming beyond horse racing. It was a gold mine and Linc was determined to tap into it.

Coming out of the pool for the first time, Noelle ran to the chair where she’d dropped her towel and dried off her face. Holding her head to one side, she waited for the water to drain out. She hated that echoing when water was stuck in her ears, but she hated wearing earplugs even more. So after checking her watch and confirming she had more time, she headed for the pool once more. Just a few more laps, then she’d head into the house to get ready to meet Brock.

His name resonated in her mind as she moved sleekly through the water. She allowed her thoughts to circle around him for a moment. Attractive in a rugged, outdoorsy kind of way was what he was. Not the polished money men she dealt with back in Vegas, that was for sure. He was kind of quiet, uptight and definitely on edge about something. Still, his body was the bomb, muscles rippling from every part of him. She’d bet it came more from working right alongside his construction crew than from working out inside any upscale gym.

And, as far as she was concerned he delivered one whopper of a kiss. Her body still tingled when she thought about their exchange. But it was just that, a kiss, nothing more. Which should probably be the story of her life with men. The physical was always easy. It always came first, hot and fast. Then like a one-alarm fire being attacked by a hose, it smoldered, leaving in its wake the charred remains of what could have been.

Well, Noelle Vincent was tired of getting burned.

She swam more quickly now, trying to outrun her past, the mistakes, the pain. Her lungs were just beginning to burn for air when she felt something snake around her waist. On impulse she squirmed, turning to see what had grabbed her. But it was too late—the grip was tight and she was headed for the top without even having to tread water herself.

Sucking in air she opened her eyes, then flung around quickly, ready to punch, scratch and scream her way free, only to find herself face-to-face with the man she had a sinking feeling was up to no good.

“Mornin’,” he said, his smile not really matching the heated gleam in his eyes.

“Good morning,” she managed, wiping her hair out of her face.

Brock lifted a hand, moved another strand away from her eyes. “Heard you down here and decided a swim looked like a good idea.”

He had thick eyebrows. She hadn’t noticed that last night, but she did now because he was really close to her and she was attempting to keep her gaze above the shoulders because it was clear he wore no shirt.

“I was just finishing up,” she said. “I need to go and get dressed.”

He caught her arm when she attempted to swim away. “No. Stay.” Pulling her close again, this time he cupped her chin. “Please.”

In the most nonchalant voice she could conjure, Noelle said, “Sure. Why not?”

Brock released a breath with her words. For a moment he thought she was going to be all awkward and bothered by their kiss. The kiss that had kept him up most of the night. But she seemed to be pretty relaxed as she swam slowly beside him. They watched each other between strokes but didn’t speak. She looked confident, self-assured as she cut through the water. He liked that. It convinced him that his instincts about her had been right. She wasn’t one of those starry-eyed women who took a kiss to mean the beginning of some life-changing relationship.

That wasn’t what Brock needed in his life. He’d had enough emotional issues without adding more. Besides, he had nothing to offer a woman on a long-term basis, nothing at all.

But right now, at this very moment he knew what he wanted to offer Noelle Vincent. He wanted her—there was absolutely no doubt about that. Beneath him, on top of him—each and every possible position had run quickly through his mind.

When he’d heard the water and looked out his window to see her in the pool this morning, his desire to be close to her had only heightened. She wore a bikini that showed more than it hid. His mouth had literally begun to water, his erection growing so hard it had taken several minutes and thoughts of the last few World Series baseball games to get it to go down enough for him to comfortably slip into his swim trunks.

So deep in his lavacious thoughts of her it took a moment before Brock realized she’d stopped swimming.

“What? Is something wrong?” he asked, treading water as he looked back at her.

“No. This is just so boring. Since we’re both out here I was thinking…”

What were you thinking? Brock found himself with a ridiculous urge to hear all her thoughts, to know any and everything about her. She was even prettier first thing in the morning with her hair soaking wet, no makeup and a bathing suit that would send a blind geriatric man into cardiac arrest.

“Let’s race!” she suggested with an exuberant smile.

Now that was the very last thing Brock had imagined or hoped she’d say.

“Race? I don’t think so,” he began.

“Oh, come on, don’t be such a dud.”

Smacking her hands against the water, she smiled as it splashed in his face. Brock blinked the droplets away, not sure if he’d just been insulted or not.

“Unless you’re afraid to be beaten by a girl.” She batted her long lashes and gave a sweeter than natural smile.

Brock caught the competitive gleam in her eye. She was certainly a surprise. Bright and chipper so early in the morning and manipulative, too. Oh yeah, he was liking her more and more by the second. She’d suggested the race, but Brock was going to make sure the results turned out in his favor.

“What do I get if I win?” he asked.

“Hmm,” she thought for a minute. “My admiration for loosening up enough to race in the first place.”

“Okay,” Brock said slowly. He could accept her admiring him. But he wanted more. “And what else?”

“A ‘congratulations,’” she answered with a raised brow.

“Add a congratulatory hug and kiss and I’m game.”

Noelle contemplated a moment. Kissing Brock again would be dangerous, she knew, and potentially fatal to her newfound resolve. But there were no worries—he wouldn’t win.

“Deal.” She reached out a hand only to be startled by the instant warmth when his connected with hers in what should have been a friendly shake. It was weird and made her uncomfortable so she pulled away.

Brock’s smile never wavered. “Need a handicap, pretty lady?”

Her answer was another splash of water in his face. “Only if you do.”

Laughter bubbled in his chest as he smiled. “Four lengths,” he said as they made their way to the end of the pool.

“On your mark,” she said keeping her eye on the other side of the pool.

“Go!” he yelled and they both pushed off.

Brock was a swimmer, she probably should have guessed that by the size of his pool, but still she’d challenged him. And as far as he could see, she was going neck and neck with him.

Slapping the wall they headed off for the second length. She was beautiful, more so than just the nice body and pretty smile. She cut through the water with a sleek grace that rivaled any Olympic swimmer. Never backing down, never slowing, she kept up with him without even panting. He was beyond impressed.

On the third length Brock picked up, waiting to catch the win, but she kept up with him, just a head behind. He was still holding back, toying with the idea of letting her win, since she was a guest in his house and all that. Then he thought of her feisty personality, her teasing little dare, the way she’d kissed him so passionately last night without hesitation, without regret. Noelle Vincent was not a woman to be discounted in any way, shape or form, least of all a swim race that she’d initiated.

So Brock let loose, passing her by a full body length as he reached his long arm out and tapped the wall almost thirty seconds before her.

Noelle came up behind him, heart hammering in her chest. She’d known the exact moment he’d stopped playing with her and appreciated him all the more for it. If she were going to lose, it had better be to someone who was strong enough to race at their full potential and not give her some egotistical female handicap.

The race had been exhilarating and she was pumped. So much so that the ramifications of his winner’s reward fled from her mind the moment he came closer, snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her up against his chest.

“Now the winner takes the prize,” he said, lowering his head until their lips were a breath away.

It felt so right—his tight grip around her waist, the close proximity of their bodies—that she could see no problems, no issues to hold her back. His gaze held hers and she quite simply melted against him. If this were the prize, she might be tempted to lose to him more often.

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