Hot Property

by

Lacey Diamond

SMASHWORDS EDITION

* * * * *

PUBLISHED BY:

Lacey Diamond on Smashwords

Hot Property

Copyright © 2010 by Debra Lee

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Chapter One

It was a mystery to Betsy that her legs went a bit wobbly upon first seeing the stranger who waited for her in the dining room. It could have something to do with the intoxicating scent of his cologne filling the room. Or just the way he held his head as he picked over the literature on the table. Whatever it was, she couldn’t just stand there gaping at him.

She took a few shaky steps toward him and thrust her hand across the table. “Hi there, I’m Betsy Alexander.”

The man’s steely gaze swept over her, making her feel self-conscious. Ignoring her hand, he said. “You’re the one handling the open house?” The coldness in his tone was compatible with the steely eyes that commanded an answer.

Betsy cleared her throat. “Yes, I am.” Something within saved her from shrinking and she stood tall. God knows he still towered over her. “I was just about to lock up. But I’d be happy to show you the house.” Truthfully, she’d be happier if he’d just leave.

“Well lead the way then.”

What arrogance, Betsy thought as she moved into the hallway, tempted to look over her shoulder to see if he followed. But unnecessary since the scent of his cologne grew more powerful as it swirled down around her, making her feel half dizzy.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed the home is immaculate,” she began as she climbed the open staircase to the second floor. To the bedrooms.

A fierce ‘oh no’ screamed within her. What if he’s a rapist? A serial killer. She wasn’t aware that she was practically running up the steps. At the landing, she quickly whirled around to see where he was and crashed into him where he stood on the top step.

His strong hands caught her around the elbows. His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. When he released his breath, time seemed to freeze while Betsy’s heart beat frantically. Yet, she could have sworn she stopped breathing.

She got a glimpse of an amused smile and warmer eyes before he quickly let go of her and wasted no time stepping around her onto the landing and took over the lead.

His move suited Betsy just fine. She didn’t think she could handle more of the unnerving sensations she’d experienced with him behind her as she climbed the stairs. Certain his blue eyes were taking in every inch of her curved hips, outlined by the light colored material of her skirt, which ended just above her knees. She had no doubts he’d given her nylon calves a close look as well.

It was her turn to get a good look at him as he strode down the hallway. His short dark hair appeared professionally cut and styled. Not a strand out of place. His broad shoulders were covered with a mint green colored short-sleeved shirt that revealed deeply tanned muscled arms. Khaki trousers covered the nicely rounded buns and long legs.

She watched him open the door to the master bedroom and disappear inside. His absence made her remember why she was here and she dashed through the doorway crashing smack into him once again.

Betsy grunted from sudden impact before glaring up at him, certain her face shaded red to match the background in her printed blouse.

Skylar’s hands grasped hold of her arms a second time. “Do you make a habit of banging into people to get their attention, Miss Alexander?”

“Of course not.” She jerked away from him, from those accusing eyes. A second later she wondered how he knew she was a Miss. She distinctly remembered introducing herself as Betsy Alexander.

“Then perhaps you should consider having your eyes examined.”

He stepped around her and back into the hallway.

For one brief moment, this bold, arrogant and downright rude man had Betsy contemplating why she stayed in this business. She didn’t have time to dwell on the thought. If she didn’t get moving the last potential buyer for Stephanie’s house would get away.

“Did you see the half bath in the master bedroom?” She rushed down the hall to catch up to him.

“I saw it,” he answered sharply and opened another bedroom door and took a quick peek inside.

“Have you noticed the hardwood floors were recently refinished?”

He lunged for the stairs. “I’ve noticed, Miss Alexander.”

His hasty descent of the steps told Betsy his annoyance with her had increased. She carefully watched her feet that were fitted into a pair of high heels as she followed him down. So not to break her concentration, she didn’t speak again until they reached the landing. After all, she didn’t dare miss a step and tumble into him a third time.

“The living room is to your right.”

“I’ve seen enough,” he said and continued in the direction of the front door.

It would’ve been easy for Betsy to watch him leave. But she couldn’t permit her dislike for the man to get in the way of making a sale.

“You really should see the kitchen. It’s absolutely the best room in the house,” she said, prepared to continue at the same desperate pace when she saw him stop cold.

He cocked his head in her direction. “Do you ever quit, Miss Alexander?”

Betsy’s face flushed. Only this time it wasn’t from embarrassment. Her temper had flared at an alarming rate. “I suppose I don’t. At least not until I’ve successfully provided a buyer for my seller.”

She couldn’t believe she’d let the words fly. The nasty overture in her tone blew any chance of making a sale. If she were to offer an immediate apology she might be forgiven. But she couldn’t do it. Even with the knowledge that it would cost her dearly, she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her squirm.

“You can save a future sales pitch, Miss Alexander. I was just taking a look at the place as a favor to my investor friend.”

“Investor friend?”

“That’s right. I’m not in the habit of buying someone else’s work.”

Her eyes reflected confusion.

“I build my own houses if that will help.”

“I see.”

An uncomfortable silence grew between them. He smiled stiffly. “I owe you a thank you for your time.”

She wasn’t about to let him off that easily. “I’d settle for the name of your investor friend.” A bold request she quickly explained. “I mean I’d be more than happy to set up a private showing for him.”

Skylar’s eyes narrowed with puzzlement. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but Stephanie told me after today you would no longer be representing the house.”

Too stunned to speak, Betsy could only stare at him.

“That’s what I thought.”

Betsy could’ve sworn she saw a glimmer of regret in his eyes.

“Look, it doesn’t make any difference to me if he buys the house through you or Stephanie.”

Of course it didn’t. He wasn’t the one on the verge of losing a sizeable commission from the sale.

“If you can convince her she needs you to put the deal together, you can get his name from her.”

“Thank you for that piece of information.” Betsy was far beyond caring that her voice was loaded with hostility.

But it certainly didn’t appear to offend him. If anything, he found it amusing when she heard him chuckle as he went out the door. “Have a good day, Miss Alexander.”

If she had something in her hand at that moment she would’ve hurled it at him.

“Have a good day,” Betsy imitated him as she stomped down the hallway and into the dining room to finally collect her things. “Well I intend to, Mr.—”

She snatched up the sheet of paper she’d left on the edge of the table. It was standard practice for everyone viewing a home during an open house to sign in leaving their name, address and telephone number. But as Betsy scanned the list of names there wasn’t a single one she couldn’t put a face with. The mystery man hadn’t signed in.

***

Skylar slid behind the wheel of his pickup and took a deep steadying breath. He’d made it outside without buying a house he had no intentions of owning. But Betsy Alexander sure didn’t make it easy. The scent of her lingered in his nostrils and he sniffed to get one last sweet smell. He savored the scent a moment, then turned the key in the ignition and shook his head. What was he thinking? He was too busy to get involved in a romance, what with his latest project gearing up.

She really was something special though, he decided as he pulled away from the curb, smiling.

***

“Calming breaths,” she repeated to herself in an attempt to ward off an anxiety attack as she locked up the house and headed for her late model sports car she couldn’t afford. But in the real estate business one had to look the part of being successful.

A few adjustments to her lifestyle and she’d managed the monthly car payments. The steady diet of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches would seem like a gourmet meal next to the bread and water she’d need to survive on if the bank called her loan.

She drove across the bridge to the small community on the other side of the Susquehanna River where housing was more affordable and lifestyles were more relaxed. She parked in front of the two story old house she had called home the past five years and remained behind the wheel to study the house. The place needed a facelift. But she’d planned to leave that to her tenant, the soon to be new owner. Or so she’d thought. That plan might not happen now.

“Sitting here feeling sorry for yourself isn’t going to improve the situation.” The words to herself got her out of the car and into her downstairs apartment.

In a matter of minutes she’d changed into a tank top and jeans. This time when she went out into the late day sunshine she swung her leg over the seat of her motorcycle. Almost the instant she mounted her ride all the tension and worry slid away from her.

Betsy gunned the throttle, enjoying the feel of the wind in her face. Before long she could taste-smell the clean air of the countryside. Another mile and she’d be at her destination. The fifty acres of farmland she’d found for sale on one of her riding trips several months ago. The land she’d dreamt about making her own.

On the hilltop in the center of the fifty acres, she’d build her dream house, nothing extravagant, but not too shabby either. Most important of all, it would be brand spanking new.

From as far back as Betsy could remember she’d lived in a rundown old house. Before her parents separated they lived in an old two-story in town. After the divorce, her mother couldn’t afford a house of her own. The two of them lived in yet another old two story row house that was falling down around them. When they dared mention improvements to the property, the landlord threatened a rent increase, knowing full well they couldn’t afford it.

Six years ago when her mother passed on after a long battle with cancer, Betsy made a promise to herself. She vowed she’d have a brand new house of her own before she reached thirty. Never mind she had no idea how she’d get it. A year later at age twenty-one and working as a secretary for a local real estate firm she knew how she’d achieve her goal. Or at least started working on a plan.

Her boss needed some quick capital and offered her a decent deal on a rental property he owned, a duplex. The rent she received from the upstairs apartment nearly covered the mortgage payment. So what if it was another old two-story in need of repair. It was a starting place.

She’d live in the downstairs apartment for five years while she built up equity. Then she’d use that equity to buy a piece of land for her new home, her dream house.

That was around the time she passed the state real estate examination and became a licensed agent. Four years under her belt and the required courses, she went for her broker’s license. And just in the nick of time. Her boss unexpectedly announced he’d sold the agency to a man moving into the area. The new owner planned to bring in his own sales force.

Betsy resented the fact he went behind everyone’s back in making the sale. The least he could’ve done was offer it to one of his six agents. To spring it on them after the fact was a low blow. But she should’ve known.

From the day her father walked out on her and her mom she lost all faith in the opposite sex. Men weren’t to be trusted or depended upon.

The betrayal by her boss had Betsy making another promise to herself. Never again would she let down her guard around a man. Or have one for a boss. The same day she convinced her friend since grade school to go into business with her.

Mary protested at first. She didn’t think they’d be able to compete with the established agencies in the area. Betsy insisted they could, and do it successfully. But she hadn’t predicted the housing market to go into a slump for at least another year. By then, their business would be off and running. But the way things stood now, it would take nothing less than a miracle to save the business, which Betsy refused to think about again until she finished her ride.

She eased off the throttle and coasted the last several feet to where the ‘for sale’ by owner sign had been pounded into the weeds a short distance off the side of the road. But the sign was gone.

Chapter Two

Betsy rolled out of bed at the crack of dawn Monday morning. She felt anything but perky after only a few hours of restless sleep. Her on and off again dozing had been haunted by the sound of Stephanie’s wicked cackling left over from their late night rendezvous.

“There’s nothing underhanded about saving thousands of dollars in commission by selling the house myself, Betsy.” Stephanie told her from her seat across the table in the country club lounge where they’d agreed to meet.

Instinct flashed warning to Betsy, the model thin woman sipping blood red wine wasn’t quite finished making what she’d done sound perfectly acceptable. But Betsy decided she didn’t want to hear more excuses or lies.

“If you’re certain you no longer require the services of The Alexander and Gold Real Estate Agency there’s no point in further discussion.”

Betsy stood with all intentions of leaving.

“Not unless you want to talk me into signing that extension on the listing contract, should my investor choose to walk. Which I feel is a strong possibility.”

Betsy debated what to do. She desperately wanted to walk away without a glance back. But common sense told her not to hesitate a second longer in sitting back down and closing the deal. “But of course there are more reputable agencies I could go with.” Stephanie tacked on after Betsy remained standing silent for so long.

“Then why don’t you give one of them a call.”

Betsy still couldn’t believe she’d told her that. But it felt so good to turn on her heels and strut off with her head high.

She’d barely taken a few steps when Stephanie’s threatening words struck a powerful blow from behind. “You’ll regret this, Betsy Alexander.”

On the drive to the office it occurred to Betsy men weren’t the only segment of the human species that weren’t to be trusted. Stephanie Rogers was a bigger cheat than any man she’d ever encountered. Betsy felt relief to be rid of her. Now all she had to do was face Mary with a summation of the meeting and hope she didn’t strangle her.

“You’re smiling. You look rested. And you’re wearing your lucky dress.” Mary greeted Betsy from her seat behind her desk when she entered the front office of the two story building.

“Right on two counts,” Betsy said and plopped into one of the two contemporary chairs in front of her partner’s desk.

“You didn’t sleep well?”

Betsy sat up straight, crossed her legs and pulled the hem of the floral designed dress over her knee. Not sure if she was stalling to gain courage or searching for the easiest way to tell her friend to start clearing out her desk.

“Betsy, what happened?”

Betsy finally looked up into the normally pale brown eyes that darkened with alarm. “Summing it up in a nutshell, Steph is no longer one of our clients.”

“You couldn’t talk her into signing an extension?”

Betsy stared into her lap and fidgeted with the hem of her dress. “The truth is, she got me so fired up that when she offered, I refused.”

“Oh my God! What do you suppose Skylar Blakewood is coming in here for?”

Betsy saw the look of fascination on Mary’s face and tilted her head around facing the window. Through the ceiling to floor glass, she saw her mystery man from the open house striding across the street and heading for the front door to their building.

“That’s Skylar Blakewood?” Betsy hoped she’d heard Mary wrong.

“The one and only.” Betsy couldn’t help but notice Mary’s dreamy-eyed look when she added, “I bet he’s a real fireball between the sheets too.”

“Mary!”

Betsy couldn’t believe her ears. In all the years they’d been friends, she never heard shy Mary make reference to a man so openly.

“Mary what? Aren’t I allowed fantasies?”

“Well yeah. But I certainly wouldn’t waste them on him. The man has an ego bigger than Mount Everest.”

“You know him?”

“We met at the open house yesterday. Actually, he never did tell me his name.”

But now that she knew it, Betsy also knew he not only built houses as he told her, but built the best. Skylar Blakewood had a reputation for being the contractor who gave you your money’s worth. He was known for buying large tracts of land and developing them, erecting condominiums or single family dwellings. His properties were handled by the largest agency in the area. Betsy had shown a few of his properties, even managed to sell one. But Skylar wasn’t present at the closing. His listing agent had him sign all of the paperwork ahead of time.

If Betsy’s memory served her correctly, she thought he was a board member at City Savings, the bank holding the note to her mortgage and business loan.

“Good morning, ladies,” he greeted, showing straight white teeth when he smiled.

He was even more breathtakingly handsome than Betsy remembered. Maybe it had something to do with his pleasant smile. Or could it be his more casual attire? Betsy believed jeans and a tee shirt had a way of bringing out the raw sexuality in a man. One thing she was certain about was that same peculiar, yet pleasant sensation flowing through her she’d experienced yesterday when she first saw him. Only now, as he hovered so closely, the sensations were flooding through her.

“So you decided to stop by and give me the name of your investor friend after all, Mr. Blakewood.” Betsy amazed herself at how cool and collected her voice sounded when her insides were firing up with desire as the scent of his cologne fell down around her.

That big beautiful smile disappeared. Even the warmness Betsy noticed in his dark blue eyes turned cold.

“Wrong, Miss Alexander. Like I told you yesterday, that’s something you’ll have to work out with Miss Rogers.”

“Msss. Rogers and I have concluded our business.”

The smile returned when he focused on Mary and extended his hand across the desk. “Forgive me, I’m Skylar Blakewood. And you must be Mary Gold.”

Betsy would not, could not deny she felt insulted by the way he suddenly ignored her and poured on the charm to a blushing Mary. His refusal to grasp Betsy’s hand when she offered a friendly greeting yesterday was painfully fresh in her memory.

For one rational second she believed he was deliberately trying to rile her, but didn’t have a clue why. Not about to be humiliated further, she stood to head for cover in the small confines of her private office on the second floor.

“Could you spare a minute before you rush off, Miss Alexander?”

His words came at Betsy with such urgency she was stunned into halting on the bottom step. Once the strong vibrations of his deep voice faded, she felt her cheeks flush from the sudden blast of heat that had torpedoed through her.

Letting down her guard around a man was one thing Betsy knew she could refrain from without an ounce of effort. But she hadn’t the faintest idea how to combat these crippling, yet awesomely wonderful physical sensations.

Only vaguely aware, she’d stood in silence for nearly a full minute before turning back to him. Then a quick glance at her watch and she spoke. “A minute is about all I have time for.”

How she managed the words or the levelness in which she said them was a mystery. As for the meaning of those words, it wasn’t true. She had no pressing business this morning. But she had no desire to share that bit of information with Skylar Blakewood.

“Then I’ll have to talk fast, won’t I?”

Betsy got a glimpse of Mary’s disapproving glare. She expected a scolding the minute they were alone. But with any luck, she could head off a refresher course on business etiquette by being a bit more cordial.

“How can I be of assistance to you, Mr. Blakewood?”

“Well, the agency that had been handling my property sales no longer works for me.”

I bet I know why too, Betsy kept to herself, only to appease her partner.

“Now that I’ve purchased a large tract of land, I’m going to need another agency to produce buyers for the twenty homes I plan to build.”

Betsy saw normally mild mannered Mary almost forget herself and jump for joy. True to her nature, she managed to contain her outburst of excitement. But Betsy wasted no time expressing herself.

“You made a wise decision coming to us. And don’t you worry. We’ll get those houses sold for you.”

Skylar hesitated. “To be quite honest, Miss Alexander, I haven’t totally decided on an agency yet.”

Now Betsy understood why the man’s pleasant smile had suddenly disappeared. And if she wasn’t mistaken, he looked like he regretted what he said, but not half as much as she did. She felt like crawling under Mary’s desk so he wouldn’t see the embarrassment certainly visible on her face for jumping to the wrong conclusion.

“We do have a growing number of buyers patiently waiting for new housing,” Mary rescued her with. And did so with an excellent choice of words Betsy thought.

“That’s good to hear,” Skylar said with a return of that radiant smile. Then he raised those kaleidoscope eyes of his, which were colored a warmer shade of blue as he peered in Betsy’s direction. “I was hoping you’d be free to take a look at the land and offer suggestions on my proposed plan for development.”

“I’d love to,” Betsy volunteered in the same anxious manner as before.

Skylar glanced at his watch. “But I’ve already used up the minute you gave me, Miss Alexander.”

Betsy inhaled deeply, promising herself from here on she would practice thinking before running off at the mouth. “None of my appointments hold a candle to trampling around a vacant stretch of land on such a beautiful day.”

“I’m bogged down with paperwork, but I don’t see a problem covering for you while you’re out.”

Mary had come to her rescue once again even though Betsy thought she was doing just fine on her own. But then, she wasn’t about to challenge her and offered a pleasant, “Thank you.” Then she looked to Skylar. “Are you ready to go?”

A quick, “Nice to meet you,” was thrown to Mary before he hurried out the door behind Betsy.

Betsy waited at the curb, watching him as he stepped out beneath the brilliant rays of the August sun. She couldn’t help but notice his well defined muscled body as he strode toward her. She swallowed hard in an attempt to extinguish the sparks of electricity zapping life into those precious female parts that had laid dormant most of her life.

“I hope you don’t have a problem with riding in a pickup, Miss Alexander.”

He stood so close that Betsy could feel his breath on her. So warm, so soothing and no doubt the reason it took her so long to locate her voice.

“Of course it’s not a problem.” Unless you’re wearing your favorite lucky dress when you’re asked to climb onto a torn, paint splattered seat, she kept to herself after he opened the door on the passenger side for her.

Betsy situated herself in the truck that in its present condition appeared way overdue the cruncher at the local junk yard.

“I took my driving test in old Betsy here,” Skylar said as he swung his long legs in under the steering wheel.

Betsy wasn’t sure she heard him right. “You named your truck Betsy?”

He snickered when he looked her way. “Don’t be offended. I named this old girl long before I heard of Betsy Alexander.”

He turned the key and the engine rebelled with a loud backfire that overpowered Betsy’s words. “Who said I was offended?” It was just as well he didn’t hear, she decided and changed the subject. “So where is this land anyway?”

“Not far,” was all he told her and focused on the street. A smile played around his mouth like he was enjoying the thought of surprising her.

When he turned off the main street of town she was indeed surprised. The turnoff led them in the direction of her favorite country road. And as they rounded the final curve nearly bouncing out of their seats after hitting a pot hole, the panic set in.

“The land you bought is on this road?”

“Just up ahead. Not too far from the conveniences of town. Yet it’s well secluded from all the hustle and bustle. Something I’ve found appeals to a lot of my home buyers.”

Betsy stopped listening to him.

Maybe it wasn’t her land he’d purchased. There could’ve been another tract further north she wasn’t aware was for sale. She could’ve missed the ‘for sale’ my owner sign on one of her scouting trips. Betsy secured a number of listings that way. She prided herself in giving a convincing sales pitch on the benefits of having a Realtor to property owners who were trying to sell themselves.

She’d steered clear of the owner of the land she planned for her dream house. She had no desire to list the property and advertise it for sale. But thoughts of hiding the ‘for sale’ sign had crossed her mind more than once. It would help prevent a sale and buy her more time to secure the financing she needed to approach the land owner with an offer.

The entire time she’d rode home last night she searched for the answer to what had happened to the ‘for sale’ sign on the land. The sign had been stolen by some prankster teenagers and placed on another piece of land that wasn’t for sale. The owner had changed his mind about selling right now. She refused to even consider the possibility the land had been sold.

Now, even as the truck coasted to a stop at the same place she’d stopped on her motorcycle numerous times, Betsy refused to believe the inevitable.

“This is it,” Skylar announced and stepped out of old Betsy. Even after he came around the front of the truck and opened her door, Betsy didn’t budge from her seat. “Aren’t you going to get out and have a look?”

A long moment of silence passed before Betsy slowly shifted in her seat and stepped down. She moved zombie-like as she followed the path he was making through the weeds.

“My first house is going on the center of that hill,” Skylar told her, stopping a few feet into the stretch of flat land and pointing toward the top of the hill.

Betsy saw, almost felt his excitement. But the pain from her sudden loss of what she’d dreamed about being hers was too overwhelming to allow even a trickle of excitement to shine through.

“Are you okay, Betsy? Do you want to go sit down or something?”

The tenderness and concern in his voice forced her to answer. “I’ll be fine. I just had a moment of lightheadedness. Go ahead and continue with what you were saying.”

He hesitated a long time. His eyes moved over her in an examining way like he needed to make certain she was okay for himself. Finally, he turned his head away so he was once again staring at that magical peak of the hill.

“The one on the very top will be the largest and of course most expensive of the twenty I plan to build down the hillside.”

He was on the move again and Betsy did her best to keep up with him in spite of stopping every so often to untangle weeds from her three inch heels. When he stopped again, he didn’t speak at first. He stared off in front of him like he was in deep thought.

“Listen,” Betsy finally said.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“That’s my point. It seems almost a crime to disturb such rare serenity.”

Betsy was having a difficult time trying to decide if his eyes narrowed because he was giving her words serious consideration. Or had she hit a raw nerve? It didn’t take long to receive an answer.

“I don’t see providing necessary housing as a crime, Miss Alexander.” He brushed against her as he stomped off in the direction of his truck.

“You said you wanted my opinion,” Betsy shouted just to be certain he heard her since he’d placed a wide gap between them.

When she bent down to hoist her shoe out of the ground where her heel had sunk to the sole, Betsy heard the truck door slam. The sound of the engine turning over put more speed in her step. She had seen a show of the man’s impatience yesterday. And it wouldn’t surprise her if he left her stranded.

Seeing the truck in the same spot where they’d left it sent a wave of disappointment through her. She sort of liked the idea of spending the day roaming the hillside. But she was reminded her ride back to town waited by the sound of the engine being revved.

Betsy hopped up in the cab barely getting the door closed when he dug out and instantly began traveling at top speed.

“Look here, Skylar Blakewood, I won’t allow your temper and narrow mindedness to get us killed. If you can’t drive sensibly let me out.”

Old Betsy backfired, sputtered and finally conked out after Skylar unexpectedly slammed on the brakes.

“There, you happy now?” Without taking a breather or giving her the opportunity to respond, he fired off another question. “And what makes you think I’m narrow minded anyway?”

“Are you kidding? I mention not being crazy about polluting the area with twenty houses and you blow up.”

“I’ve changed my mind. There will be forty of them now.”

Oh aren’t you the clever one, Betsy thought, feeling an approaching storm of anger brewing. But for once in her life, she was determined to be still until it passed. There was no way she was stooping to his childish level.

“You can build fifty if you want. I mean it’s your land. But if it was mine, that hillside would be littered with Christmas trees.”

“You’re quite right, Miss Alexander. It’s my land and I’ll do as I damn please with it.”

The amused grin signaling victory is what griped Betsy the most. After he managed to get old Betsy running again, they drove the entire distance back in total silence. But Betsy’s emotions weren’t quiet. She wanted to scream. Cry when it finally sunk in she had lost the precious land she’d dreamed about owning for so long. All along ignoring the fact there were other people out there with dreams of their own for that land. People like Skylar Blakewood who had the money to bring those dreams to life.

Skylar pulled up in front of Betsy’s office building and didn’t hesitate getting out and bustling around to open the door for her.

“So now he’s back to playing the role of gentleman,” Betsy muttered under her breath and started to step down. Only, the next thing she knew she was falling into his arms.

For the briefest of moments, their eyes met. And yet, they were able to carry on the most wonderful conversation. Their lips were so close that Betsy could almost taste the smoothness of his. The warm embrace lasted a short time as well, but Betsy wouldn’t have cared if it never ended. There was more than sparks flying deep within her. Every vital organ in her body began going magnificently haywire.

Betsy couldn’t resist the need to blink and the magical spell that had fallen over her ended. She quickly pulled free of his hold. “Don’t bother asking. I’m just fine. My heel got stuck.” She spoke in the same biting tone as she yanked her shoe from the hole in the floorboard. She hadn’t even noticed she’d broken off the heel as she carried her shoe and limped off toward the building entrance.

“For supposedly being one of the wealthiest men in Lewisburg, you’d think he could afford a decent form of transportation,” she hissed under her breath and went inside.

The instant Betsy stumbled over the threshold carrying her broken shoe and appearing as though she’d just finished fighting a war, Mary gasped in alarm. “What on earth happened to you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it now, Mary.” Near tears, Betsy limped past her partner’s desk and climbed the stairs to her private office.

She slipped off her intact shoe and walked stocking-footed across the threadbare carpet to the window and yanked shut the blind. She had no desire to be cheered up by the bright rays of sunshine bursting inside the room.

Once she’d plopped down on her desk chair, she committed herself to remaining firmly rooted in her seat and sulking to her heart’s content.

Why did life have to be so complicated? Nothing was working out the way she’d planned. She stewed for a long while, blaming all the Stephanie Rogers and Skylar Blakewoods of the world for ruining her dreams. It just wasn’t fair. But then, life wasn’t fair unless you just happened to be born with a silver spoon in your mouth like Stephanie.

When it came time to include Skylar, Betsy found herself remembering a section of a newspaper article she’d read about him.

Skylar Blakewood’s life was a true rag to riches story. His childhood didn’t sound so different than hers. Parents had divorced, his mother working two jobs so she could feed her four children. While Skylar was still in high school, he spent his summers working from dawn to dusk for a local contractor. After a few years of saving nearly every penny he earned, he bought his first piece of land, gambling on the bank giving him a construction loan to erect a complex of condominiums. The bankers balked, insisting there wasn’t a need for that sort of housing in the area. But Skylar had a dream. He wouldn’t take no for an answer and convinced the bank board to take the risk. The gamble paid off. And now, Skylar sat on that same bank board.

Betsy sat erect in her seat, a determined look on her heart-shaped face. Her sky blue eyes were opened wider when she stood and headed downstairs with the intention of a brief conversation with her partner until she saw Mary emptying a filing cabinet.

“For Pete’s sake, Mary, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m packing.”

“Well stop it.”

Mary dropped the handful of files into the box on her desk and gave Betsy her undivided attention. But she did the talking. “The bank called while you were holed up in your office. Seems a little bird left it slip we lost our biggest client.”

“Some little bird all right. I’m sure Steph was chomping at the bit to tell whichever board member she was sleeping with last night.”

“I know Stephanie wants that vacant seat on the bank board. But I doubt she’d stoop to sleeping around to get it.”

Betsy began unpacking the box on Mary’s desk. “And I thought I had a tendency to be naïve.”

“Why are you unpacking that? I assumed by the way you looked when you got back things didn’t go well with Skylar Blakewood. And since the bank reminded me our year is up and they need to take a look at the books--”

“Mr. Blakewood will not be taking Stephanie’s place as our biggest client. As for the bank, I was just about to pay them a visit.”

“And tell them what?” Mary asked and flopped in her desk chair.

Betsy smiled slyly. “I’m not going to tell them, Mary. I’m going to convince them it is in their best interest to give us an extension. They want our money, not our business.”

The telephone rang cutting short Mary’s amused chuckle. Betsy watched her partner’s eyes brighten once she gave her usual pleasant greeting to the caller.

“What already?” Betsy pressed the instant Mary hung up and remained silent.

Mary finally found her voice. “Do you know who that was?”

“Of course I don’t. Who was it?”

A gigantic smile landed on Mary’s mouth. “We got it!” She sprang out of her seat and shouted. “Skylar Blakewood.”

“Skylar Blakewood what?”

Mary stopped jumping up and down. “That was his secretary on the phone. You’re supposed to bring over the listing contract.”

Betsy believed Mary misunderstood. “He’s contracting with us for the entire project?”

“Sounded that way. His secretary’s words, Mr. Blakewood decided on your agency to handle his new home development. Then she said to have Miss Alexander bring over the contract.”

Instead of jumping for joy, Betsy stood filled with skepticism, while her mind frantically searched for an explanation.

Chapter Three

The industrial park area that skirted the small community where Betsy lived had expanded over the last few years with trucking terminals and warehouses. And now, a three story brick office complex stood in the midst of them. One of Skylar Blakewood’s projects Betsy had discovered. He’d reserved two of the ground floor offices for himself and managed to lease all the others for an incredible amount of money.

Not quite noon and the high humidity already broke a record for the day. Betsy’s hair went flat and her slip stuck to her as a result.

She stopped on the stoop to the main entrance of the office building to pull the damp material down beneath her sleeveless dress. But fixing her slip wasn’t the only reason she hesitated outside the glass double doors.

Standing on the threshold of another encounter with Skylar Blakewood twisted her nerves in knots.

Stop procrastinating woman and get on with it, an inner voice ordered.

Betsy threw back her shoulders and burst inside to be blasted with the refreshing coolness of the central air conditioning. It took a few moments for her body to adjust to the sudden change in temperature and she forged onward to the reception desk.

When clearing her throat out loud didn’t get the young woman to look up from the paperback book she had her nose in, Betsy tried again using her voice. “Excuse me. I’m here to see Mr. Blakewood.”

The woman’s pale complexion shaded pink. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Blakewood isn’t in right now.”

“He has to be. I saw old Betsy in the parking lot.”

She wrinkled her brow and gazed at Betsy as if she were crazy. “All I know, Miss, is Mr. Blakewood left earlier for a meeting at the bank. I don’t know anything about an old Betsy.”

“Miss Alexander was making reference to my truck, Crystal.”

“Skylar!” Crystal gasped and her cheeks glowed pink. “I didn’t know you were back.”

“I came in the rear entrance a little while ago.”

Betsy stood in total silence. She heard the conversation between the two from a distance because of what was taking place inside her.

From the moment she heard that deep voice and saw him framed in the office doorway, her insides began acting up again. The man looked positively stunning in the chocolate colored suit and matching brown tie he was twisting loose from the beige shirt he wore.

“It feels like the air conditioning just went on the blink,” he declared as he pulled off his jacket.

“I think it’s chilly in here,” Crystal said.

“You better check with maintenance anyway.”

Betsy watched the model thin young woman reach for the telephone, but continued to feel his powerful presence. And the sparks zapped deep within her, igniting a fire of comforting warmth when his voice came to her.

“Forgive me, Miss Alexander. Come on into my office.” He slung his jacket over a shoulder and motioned for her to come his way with his free hand.

In spite of her legs turning to jelly, Betsy advanced toward him. Her breath caught in her throat when her arm brushed against his on her way inside the room.

Betsy couldn’t help but notice the cluster of sweat beads that had formed above his upper lip. Once again he twisted at his tie as he moved out around her and stopped behind his clutter free glass desk top.

“Since we’re going to be working together, I suggest we drop the formal stuff and call each other by first name.” His words came out in one quick breath as he flung his jacket haphazardly over the back of his desk chair before sitting in it.

“The working together part is why I’m here.” Betsy felt herself jump from the unexpected sound of her own voice. But now that she remembered she had one she wasn’t about to stop until she said it all. “After closely evaluating our previous encounters, Mr. Blakewood, I feel it would be in the best interest of all parties to decline your offer of representation.”

Skylar leaned forward. His voice came at her with that same coolness that had riled her before. “For one thing, Miss Alexander, you can’t afford not taking me on as a client.” He kicked back in his chair, appearing more relaxed and even a bit amused. “Secondly, you managed to convince me you have the determination and persistence required to get the job done.”

Betsy was prepared to tell him her financial affairs were none of his business until his last statement quite literally swept her off her feet and she dropped on one of the high back chocolate colored leather chairs in front of his desk.

“I’m sorry for my behavior on our two previous meetings. I was downright rude from the start.”

Betsy saw those light blue eyes flash with sincerity before darkening.

“Perhaps what I did was unforgivable. But I had to test you, Betsy. My homes deserve every penny of their high price tags. It is important the agency I choose to represent them understands that, as well as who pays their commission.”

“I’ve always tried to get the seller his asking price. And I’m well aware of who pays me, Mr. Blakewood.”

He snickered. “You made that quite clear at the open house the other day. But I needed to know you weren’t one of those agents who tell buyers the seller will take less than the asking price.”

“I could lose my license if I did that.”

“That doesn’t seem to enter every Realtor’s mind when he’s trying to put together a deal.”

Betsy couldn’t argue with the man. For the first time she had to concede and agree with him. The real estate business was no different than any other business. There are always those few who regard the almighty dollar as their boss.

“Suppose I was to forgive you for your downright rudeness. Would you be signing on with our agency to sell all forty homes?”

Skylar chuckled. “I have to confess. I wasn’t thinking too clearly when I told you there would be forty homes instead of twenty.”

So his childish temper tantrum had been real yesterday. Maybe the man was the arrogant, rude and self-centered person she had encountered right from the start.

“But when you mentioned wasting valuable building land on Christmas trees--”

“I don’t see a hillside coming alive in a splendor of greenery and smelling of pine a waste. Never mind the shelter those trees would provide to our wildlife. Need I continue, Mr. Blakewood?”

Skylar slouched in his seat. “I’d say you made your point, Miss Alexander.”

If his humble tone was a true indicator, Betsy felt she’d managed to quell any thoughts he might have about making another statement in regard to her idea being a waste.

It became Betsy’s turn to shrink a little as Skylar worked his large frame upward and sat tall.

“I think a compromise is in order here, Betsy. I’m willing to consider adding a few trees to my plans if you’re willing to take me on as a client for six months.”

“Six months!” Betsy repeated, confused.

“I will have the first house completed by then. Hopefully you will be able to tell me it’s sold.” He paused briefly. “I’m also willing to pay you seven percent of the selling price instead of your usual six.”

Betsy didn’t need time to think. Sometime during the night she’d come to accept the fact that she’d lost the land. It might take a while, but she’d find another magnificent hill on which to build her dream house. In the meantime, she’d have a chance to work at adding to her near depleted bank account. But she was having an extremely difficult time saying yes to Skylar Blakewood’s generous offer.

Suddenly, as if someone else slipped inside her body and called the shots, she found herself standing and extending her hand across the desk. “You have yourself a deal, Skylar.”

When he grasped hold of her hand to seal the deal with a gentleman’s handshake, a hot tingling sensation raced from the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes. She sensed Skylar felt it too by his sudden starry-eyed look. But the way he snapped his hand back and began moving around his desk to the door proved her theory wrong.

He opened the solid wood door and in an uneven voice said, “I’ll get a copy of the house plans to you in a couple of days.”

“That should be helpful in stirring up interest in some of my buyers.” Betsy heard some unevenness in her own voice as she moved toward the door. Toward the intoxicating scent of him that had temporarily weakened when he moved away from his desk.

“I was hoping I’d find you here.”

The familiar high-pitched voice sent an icy chill through Betsy. She didn’t have to crane her neck around as Skylar had done to see who the voice belonged to.

“Stephanie.” Skylar smiled, almost blushed when Stephanie Rogers pressed her tall lean body against him and kissed his cheek.

Betsy wanted to turn her head away. The sight of the two of them upset her stomach. She saw the imprint of lip gloss Stephanie left on his cheek when she slowly pulled back her face. When she cuddled up to him, Betsy thought she might really be sick.

With luck, Betsy hoped she could slip out around them without being noticed. But the realistic side of her warned they were taking up too much of the doorway for her to pull it off. She ignored the warning.

Flattening her back against the door frame, she squeezed through. The sound of Skylar’s voice let her know she wasn’t home free even though her fierce strides had put her near the front door when he called out.

“Where’s the fire?”

“I’m late for an appointment,” Betsy shouted so she wouldn’t have to look back.

She went out the door and crashed into a wall of heat that took her breath away, temporarily immobilizing her. Of course her state had to be the result of the sudden impact of heat. She refused to consider leftover emotions from the scene inside had anything to do with her suffocating feeling.

It took a few minutes before she found herself buckled up inside her car and driving toward her office. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind Mary would be relieved when she told her she’d taken Skylar on as a client. Especially after she’d told her less than an hour earlier she wasn’t going to. Mary said she understood. But Betsy didn’t see how she could possibly understand the way this man made her body come alive in such a magical way whenever he got near her.

“You look hard at it,” Betsy commented as she entered the building and dropped in a chair near Mary’s desk.

Without glancing up from the paperwork she had in front of her, Mary spoke. “I’m working on a profit and loss statement for you to take along to your meeting at the bank this afternoon.”

With all the emotional turmoil she’d experienced in such a short time, Betsy had completely forgotten she’d promised Mary she’d meet with the loan officer at the bank. Or that she’d somehow convince the man to give them an extension on the twelfth month stipulation written into their loan agreement. But things certainly had changed since she made that promise. Now that she’d committed herself to taking Skylar on as a client, the banker wouldn’t need much convincing.

“Finished,” Mary suddenly blurted, then handed the sheet of paper to Betsy. “Now that I’ve taken a closer look I’m happy to report we aren’t in that bad a shape.”

Betsy scanned the double column rows of numbers on the one side of the paper. “In black and white you hardly notice all the red spots.”

“That’s nothing to joke about, Betsy. Seriously though, those figures aren’t bad considering the slump the market’s been in. But to a banker--”

Betsy knew if she allowed the woman to get herself all worked up she’d have another one of those ulcer attacks she’d been suffering with since they became business partners.

“Calm down, Mary. The bank isn’t going to even care about those figures once I mention we’ve taken on Skylar Blakewood as a client.”

“But I thought--”

“Can’t a girl change her mind? Besides, it’s a little hard to say no to a seven percent commission.”

“You’re kidding?”

Betsy smiled as she gave a nod.

“This calls for a celebration.”

Betsy watched the happy woman reach for the phone. “Who are you calling?”

“Ordering a pizza smothered in pepperoni. That still is your favorite too, isn’t it?”

Betsy chuckled. “You know it is.” Then she remembered. “What about your ulcer?”

“It loves pizza. And it’s my treat too.”

***

Betsy put the closed sign in the front window and locked the door behind the delivery boy. The two women headed up to Betsy’s office where they spent a good part of the next hour talking about anything that popped into their heads, while they polished off the entire pizza.

It was almost five o’clock when Betsy finished at the bank and started off on foot for the office. She couldn’t allow the ninety degree temperature and high humidity to slow her down on the two block walk. Not only had Mary gotten into the habit of leaving the office at five on the dot, Betsy knew she’d be chewing her fingernails off to the skin until she heard the outcome of her meeting.

Betsy put on her biggest smile as she burst in the door. “You can stop biting your nails. We got the extension.”

Before Betsy could continue, Mary started waving her hand in the air to silence her. “Skylar Blakewood’s waiting for you in your office,” Mary whispered, while Betsy leaned over the desk so she could hear her.

The sudden rise in Betsy’s body temperature had nothing to do with the weather. She’d left that heat outside on the doorstep. And even though she wouldn’t admit it to a soul, she was certain the hot waves washing through her had to do with hearing his name and knowing he was nearby.

Somehow, she managed to whisper back to Mary. “What’s he doing here?”

Mary shrugged her slender shoulders, stood, grabbed her purse and started for the front door. “See you tomorrow,” came out in a normal tone. So did her, “They’re all still there too,” as she waved her fingernails in front of Betsy seconds before she pulled the door shut behind her.

Betsy stood still while she watched Mary through the front window until she disappeared inside her economy-sized car. She remained standing there, statue-like when the sound of his voice came to her from behind.

“We’re alone again.”

Chapter Four

Betsy attempted to steady her breathing and quiet her stomach that turned a somersault at the sound of his seductive voice.

She slowly faced him. “Skylar, this is a surprise.” The words came out in one quick sweep instead of smooth like Betsy planned. But when her eyes met his she was so busy willing her emotions to be quiet that she had forgotten.

“I wanted to bring you a copy of the new house plans like I promised. I put them up on your desk.”

Betsy’s stomach was doing one flip after another as he took baby steps in her direction. Stop gaping at him like some love struck teenager and say something, she ordered herself. “You didn’t have to make a special trip into town.”

“I didn’t.”

“Well good,” Betsy stammered. “I am anxious to see the plans. I’ll take them home with me so I can give them a close look tonight.” She’d rambled until his voice cut her off.

“Do you ever take time out from work, Betsy?”

The warmth in his tone was soothing enough that Betsy relaxed and smiled. “I could probably ask the same of you.”

A crooked smile appeared on his face. But the grin was short lived and the man wrinkled his brow as though in deep thought. “Maybe we both deserve a little time off. What do you say to a quiet dinner? Then we could--”

“No. I really can’t tonight,” Betsy cut in stammering again. Only problem was she hadn’t said what she really wanted to say.

The evening Skylar suggested sounded wonderful. But if she said yes, what would she be agreeing to next? The unknown never frightened Betsy before. But when it came to Skylar Blakewood, she was scared to death of these new emotions that grew in strength every time she was in the man’s company.

“Can’t or won’t?”

Betsy trembled at the sound of his voice. Had he read her mind? Did he know she was terrified of getting too close to him? Or did he think she was just playing some sort of childish game? That’s not what she wanted.

“I just can’t,” she insisted and bustled past him and up the stairs to her office.

“Is it something I said? No wait, it’s my breath. I have bad breath. That’s it isn’t it?”

The smile came naturally as Betsy craned her neck away from the window where she’d taken root, and looked at him. He balanced his tall muscled frame at the top of the steps, by gripping the top of the archway. His head was tilted sideways, while narrow blue eyes peered up at her in a pitiful way. He reminded her of a little boy who’d just been scolded.

“No, it’s not your breath.” The smile faded when an inner voice reminded her of her decision to practice restraint around him. “I have other plans. But you might want to ask Stephanie Rogers. I’m sure she’d love to have dinner with you.” Betsy wanted to bite off her tongue. She had no idea where the words came from.

“I had lunch with Stephanie.”

His words took her breath away. Reminding herself he could have lunch with whomever he wanted, allowed her to breathe.

“I’m sorry. I had no right--”

“You have the right to assume whatever you want, Betsy.” Their eyes met and held steady for a long time before Skylar broke the spell by speaking again. “Since I can’t convince you to have dinner with me, I guess I’ll go take a closer look at my new property to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything.”

But you have convinced me. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than have dinner with you. The words were all there, stuck to the roof of her mouth. And by the time her tongue had pried them loose, Skylar was already going out the front door.

Betsy felt the loss immediately, a void deep within her. She crossed her arms over her heart, hugging herself, but the empty feeling did not leave her. If anything, it had widened into a big gaping hole.

A few minutes to gather up her things and she left the building, surprised to find the temperature and humidity had dropped. The pleasant weather shouldn’t be wasted indoors.

That of course was the explanation she gave to the sensible side of herself. The one telling her it was a mistake to think about doing what she was already making plans to do. And when she stopped by the mini-market on the way home selecting the things she would need, Miss Sensible was still badgering her. She didn’t let up once she arrived home or while Betsy changed her clothes. She persisted as Betsy loaded up the small basket she carried with her back outside.

Betsy strapped the basket to the backend of her motorcycle seat and mounted her ride before Miss Sensible gave up and wasn’t heard from again until Betsy coasted to a stop at her destination.

The instant old Betsy came into view, Betsy’s pulse quickened. When she coasted to a stop behind the truck, Miss Sensible returned insisting she turn around and head for cover before it was too late. But it was already too late. Hiding would not fill the gaping hole deep within her. Only Skylar could do that.

Invisible fingers tickled Betsy from head to foot as she collected the basket from her bike and started making her way through the path of flattened weeds. She trekked over the ground and climbed the hill effortlessly in comparison to the other day. But today she was wearing her hiking boots and had already absorbed the shock of losing her land.

As Betsy stepped upon the peak of the hill, Skylar approached from the other side. The mere sight of him took her breath away. He still wore the trousers to his suit. But the jacket and tie were gone and his shirt was unbuttoned to the middle of his chest.

A blazing burst of heat stormed through Betsy as she imagined running her fingers over the smoothness of that muscled and tanned chest.

When his long legs suddenly braked, Betsy gazed up into magnificent blue eyes. Their stare held for what seemed an eternity of pure bliss before the magical moment was broken when Skylar blinked. His mouth spread into a big smile that showed flawless white teeth.

“You came.” His words were said as if the surprise of seeing her left him too stunned to think of anything else to say.

The void within Betsy was already flooding over the edges with fullness. “I came,” she said, still gazing at him in a trance-like state.

The magical moment of silence made Betsy feel weightless. Her fingers let go of their firm hold on the handle of the picnic basket. When it smashed down on her toe, it wasn’t pain, but built in reflexes that made her move, breaking the spell.

“Ouch,” came from Skylar’s mouth on impact. And it was he who quickly lifted the basket off her toe.

“You okay?” he asked.

The genuine concern in his voice soothed the thumping sensation in Betsy’s big toe.

“Didn’t feel a thing,” she said and smiled, deciding her next pair of hiking boots would have steel toes.

Skylar’s smile reflected relief. He swung the basket up to his face and raised a corner of the lid. “What have we got here anyway?”

“I figured you’d skip dinner when you mentioned coming up here to work.”

“You do seem to make a lot of assumptions about me, Betsy.”

The sudden change in his mood alerted Betsy something troubled him. Could it be her boldness? Had he made other dinner plans for later and hesitated telling her? Had he taken her up on her suggestion and called Stephanie? If so, he didn’t have to feel embarrassed for her. Her impulsive behavior had gotten her into this awkward position and would get her out.

“Well I won’t be making any more,” she declared, snatching the basket from his hand and turning on her heels to leave.

In spite of her quickness, Skylar moved faster and grasped hold of her arm and spun her back around, pulling her against him.

“Your assumption wasn’t wrong, Betsy. I haven’t eaten yet.”

His voice had come to her in a husky whisper. Her flare up of anger was replaced with a raging fire of desire that was burning out of control when Skylar stepped back from her.

“Bringing me dinner was a nice gesture. But I don’t have time to eat right now.”

“I see,” Betsy stated, but she didn’t. And the snapping and cracking fire of passion was replaced with anger. The man was absolutely impossible. One minute he was warm, even compassionate. The very next, he was cold and distant.

“Charlie Webber, my construction foreman just left here,” he said, then hesitated, ramming his hands in his trouser pockets. His head lowered as a dusty loafer kicked into a patch of tall clover.

He stared into her eyes. “A township supervisor showed up this morning when my crew was about to break ground for the road up here. The supervisor stopped them.” He paused. “It’s my own fault. My lawyer was out of town so I had to retain the services of another one before I had time to make the proper inquiries into his background. The man has no experience in real estate transactions of this nature. If he had, all the necessary permits and approvals would’ve been finalized prior to settling on the property.”

Now Betsy understood his mood swing. And all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and assure everything would turn out okay. But she knew that wasn’t what he needed right now. The man might be vulnerable if put in a situation foreign to him, but Skylar was in familiar territory. He didn’t need a hug and she kept her arms at her side and prompted him to explain his solution.

“So now what? I mean what timetable are we looking at before you can move forward?”

Skylar glanced at his watch and started moving down the hillside. “The township’s monthly meeting should be getting underway any minute now. I intend to get approval before it adjourns.”

Ninety percent of Betsy’s dealings involved residential properties. The other ten percent gave her experience with urban land sales purchased for development. Obtaining the required permits and approvals was not as simple as Skylar made it sound.

Skylar suddenly stopped in mid-stride, as if something had occurred to him. He started to turn back around as Betsy came up alongside him. He reached out and relieved her of the basket then was off to the races again down the hillside. Betsy shifted into a trot in order to remain at his side.

“You should come with me to the meeting.”

Betsy glanced over at him just in time to see the grin.

“The supervisors might be more agreeable to my request with a pretty woman at my side.”

His statement left Betsy speechless. How dare he make reference to her as if she were a pawn he could use to sway their decision in his favor? Did he really think she was pretty? The thought gave her a chill of excitement and brought a smile to her face. Then she frowned. In comparison to his beauty queen girlfriend Stephanie Rogers, Betsy thought herself a plain Jane. If it were Stephanie at his side would he have said beautiful?

They reached old Betsy and Skylar sat the basket in the rear end of the truck and froze when he spotted Betsy’s motorcycle.

“You ride a Harley?”

Betsy couldn’t keep from smiling as she gripped the handlebars and swung her leg over the seat. “You have a problem with that?”

He shook his head and grinned. “No problem. So you want to follow me?”

“I never said I was going to the meeting.”

His lower lip dropped. “As my Realtor you could offer insight into the need for additional housing in the area.”

Betsy couldn’t argue. Nor could she visualize anything but pine and spruce trees sprouting from the hillside he wanted to build homes on.

“You can give them the facts,” Betsy said, then glanced down her front. “I’m not dressed for the occasion anyway.”

She watched him close his lips and swallow hard. Could he be feeling the same sense of loss as her since they were about to part? Wishful thinking, Miss Sensible mocked. The man gave little indication of being physically attracted to her. But then Betsy thought she did a good job hiding her true feelings. Could he be too?

Skylar’s hands gripped the side of his truck bed. “If I had more time I think I could convince you to join me.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Since time isn’t on my side, I guess this is goodbye.”

“Bye.” Betsy saw him hesitate, his eyes fixed on hers as if he was holding on in hope she’d change her mind. When she remained silent he turned toward the door.

“Skylar!”

He slowly tilted his head in her direction.

“Good luck.”

His lips twisted into a little smile before she watched him climb behind the wheel and drive away.

Betsy swallowed the lump in her throat, then gunned the throttle and headed in the opposite direction. She was determined to enjoy the sights and smell of the countryside. The thick forest of trees on both sides of the road made her smile. But the beauty of the lavender and white wild flowers near the edge of the road is what occupied her thoughts until she made the turn onto the main street.

Up until now the scenery allowed her to postpone feeling the emptiness tugging at her insides. She couldn’t allow this to continue. She’d been perfectly content with her life before Skylar. And she would be again. She had to be.

She arrived home and went into her roomy downstairs apartment, managed to shower, pull on her white terry cloth one piece short outfit without allowing a glimpse of Skylar and her feelings for him into her thoughts. The way her toe began to thump helped keep her mind off him. She placed her foot on the side of the bathtub to give the toe a closer look. It was an ugly sight, swollen and already black and blue. Feeling along the bone she came to the conclusion it wasn’t broken.

When Betsy thought about how she’d gotten the injury, she quickly put her foot down on the cool tile.

“You got off easy,” Miss Sensible insisted. If she hadn’t stood gaping at Skylar the picnic basket wouldn’t have smashed her toe in the first place.

“Letting down your guard around a man only brings pain,” Miss Sensible reminded.

Betsy agreed. She’d be more careful in the future.

She ran the comb through her short wet waves and went into the living room.

Plopping on the center worn couch cushion she picked up the copy of Skylar’s house plans from the coffee table where she’d dropped them when she came in from work. As she leaned back in her seat, unrolling the heavy paper, she propped her feet on the table.

First glance at the plans and she found fault. The more she studied the interior design, the more frustrated she became. “The man’s building a castle,” she blurted and dropped the house plans on her lap.

Castles were ancient and reminded her of all the old houses she’d lived in.

Her gaze wandered around the large room where she sat. The high plastered ceiling was cracked at various spots. The white walls looked as bad. She’d filled the room with shelves of books and potted plants trying to give it a cozy appearance. But in the winter months when she dared walk around on the wood floors in bare feet, she felt cold.

She gripped the paper again and took another look. This was not the one story new house with thick plush carpet throughout she’d pictured on that hill.

Skylar Blakewood would hear about her dislike for his proposed first house. As his Realtor it was her job to tell him what her buyers wanted. It would be too late once construction began. She made up her mind she’d call his office first thing in the morning when the doorbell rang.

She dropped the plans on the coffee table. It was after nine o’clock. She made it a habit to hit the sack by ten during the work week. Friends and acquaintances knew that. So who’d be calling at this hour?

Curious to see who wanted to impose on her privacy at this time of night, she swung open the solid wood door.

“I was hoping you’d still be up,” Skylar said as he opened the screen door and walked in, uninvited.

Betsy grasped the top of the terry cloth material barely covering her chest, suddenly feeling half naked and a little embarrassed. “I was about to turn in.” She stumbled into the living room where Skylar was already making himself right at home on the couch after setting the picnic basket on the coffee table.

For the first time since he charged inside like an unexpected bolt of lightning, the man was giving Betsy more than a quick glance. He was without a doubt undressing her with his eyes as his gaze slowly traveled up her trembling body. Sensuous blue eyes captured hers and held. The gaze was broken when Skylar abruptly jumped to his feet.

“Well, I won’t keep you then. I just wanted to return your basket.”

Betsy swallowed in order to speak. “Thank you. I’d completely forgotten about it.”

“Maybe you can salvage its contents,” Skylar suggested as he stepped out around the coffee table and started moving toward her.

Betsy had trouble breathing normally as he got near her. She took a few giant steps away from him, toward the basket. “If you haven’t eaten you might as well take one of these with you.” Her words were rigid as she lifted the lid on the basket and pulled out a hoagie.

“Keep it. I’m not fond of store bought sandwiches.”

“Well you won’t get a home cooked meal around here.”

“Did you hear me ask for one?”

Betsy felt her face flush. Now she could add insulting to the list of names she’d used before to describe him.

“I’m sorry. The meeting didn’t go as I planned. But that’s no reason to take out my frustrations on you.”

Of course he had no right. But Betsy didn’t give it another thought. She forgave him. She even wished she could absorb some of the mental anguish he appeared to be suffering. Though, she hadn’t a clue why.

“You can’t be serious? The supervisors wouldn’t dare deny you a building permit.”

“They didn’t. The code enforcement officer signed the permit for one house. But it seems the supervisors are hell bent on reviewing my development plan before they’ll even consider granting a variance.”

Skylar returned to the couch and dropped on the edge of an end cushion. He had his head down and used his fingers to rake through the dark mass of hair.

Betsy’s only thought when she sat down next to him was to assure things would work out.

“Holy cow woman!” His words startled Betsy before he reached down and carefully lifted her foot. “You better have a doctor look at this.”

“It’ll heal.”

He carefully brought her leg to his lap. “If you won’t have it checked, you should at least keep it elevated to prevent more swelling.”

If he only knew the kind of sweet torture he caused her as his hand rested over the top of her ankle. His flesh touching hers, ignited fires to blaze out of control in every minute cell to major organ of her anatomy.

When he leaned forward reaching for the copy of the house plans on the coffee table, Betsy automatically leaned with him. She really didn’t have a choice since he held her leg captive.

He sat back. “Did you get a chance to look at these?”

The blue of Betsy’s eyes briefly met his. In that glorious moment when it seemed the world belonged to only them, she wanted to tell him his plans were brilliant. Miss Sensible stopped her. She needed to stop gushing with teenage idolism for the guy and get to the business at hand.

A hot flash torpedoed through her. She wondered if he realized he was massaging her ankle. Did he have any idea what his touch was doing to her?

“The house is going to be a castle.”

Skylar chuckled. “Not quite.” His eyes met hers and his expression became serious. “Doesn’t every little girl grow up wanting to be rescued by a prince and carried off to his castle?”

Did he really believe this fairytale nonsense of women? On the other hand, Betsy considered his analysis close to the truth of many, but not for Betsy Alexander. She didn’t need rescued from anything by Prince Charming. There was no such man anyway.

“I doubt little girls sit around fantasizing about that fairytale anymore.”

“Just because you don’t like men doesn’t mean other women feel the same, Miss Alexander.”

His words left her speechless even when he carefully lifted her leg off his lap and stood. But she located her voice before he reached the door.

“How dare you make an accusation like that? I never said I didn’t like men. Even though I’ve yet to know one that is trustworthy.”

Betsy could’ve gone on if he wouldn’t have tilted his head toward her with fire in his eyes. “So that’s it then. You don’t trust me.”

“Well I--”

“Care to share what I’ve done to make you feel this way?”

Betsy’s pulse raced and her heart beat wildly as she listened to the sincerity in his soft spoken words as he moved toward her.

He stopped inches in front of her. When Betsy slowly peered up into the pair of hypnotizing blue eyes of the man towering over her, she wanted to lean against his firm frame for support. She wanted to tell him she couldn’t think of a single reason not to trust him completely.

“I can’t--”

Her words were cut off when Skylar cupped her chin in his fingertips, tilting it upward so when he leaned over his lips melted over hers. The gentle touch of him gave her a weightless feeling as she made a graceful leap off the edge of the earth. As Skylar eased his tongue over hers, sparks snapped and cracked life back into her, almost instantly igniting a fire deep within her. The flames shot her into oblivion when he unexpectedly slid his lips off the corner of her mouth.

Betsy opened her eyes in time to see his Adam’s apple move when he swallowed hard just before murmuring, “I should be going.”

“Yes,” was the only word Betsy could manage even though Miss Sensible had a mouthful of questions for the man before he walked out the door.

“I have a call to make and an early day ahead of me,” Skylar muttered as he hastened toward the front door.

When he suddenly stopped in the doorway, Betsy hoped he was having second thoughts about leaving. She longed for him to turn around and rush into her arms. To her lips that missed the tenderness of his.

Skylar did turn back to her, but didn’t make a mad dash for her arms-lips.

“I’m sorry about the kiss. I just-I had this impulse or something. It won’t happen again.”

Betsy watched him disappear into the night. Watch is all she could do. Each of his words had dropped a load of heavy bricks over her, crushing her where she stood.

She’d never been kissed like that before. The few boys she’d dated in school and even fewer men since then had never sent her on such a spectacular journey when they kissed her. Skylar Blakewood’s was the first. And the last, Miss Sensible returned to inform.

How had they ended up kissing anyway? Skylar seemed on the verge of exploding with anger as Betsy had a few seconds earlier. There she stood, more or less accusing him of being untrustworthy when-what? He kissed her. Had he done so to shut her up?

Confusion filled Betsy. Then the anger moved in. Not with him, but herself. Why had she allowed the kiss in the first place? She never should’ve permitted him inside her apartment. Never again. Life would be much simpler if she never saw the man again.

“That’s the answer,” she said to the empty space around her. “I won’t see him again.”

Betsy had agreed to take him on as a client. She would hold to that promise, provided she could talk Mary into dealing with the man.

Of course that wasn’t part of Mary’s job description, per the agreement they made the day they went into business together. Mary didn’t show homes or present sales agreements to sellers. That was Betsy’s responsibility. Mary took care of running the office.

But Betsy did handle the negotiations with the bank which should’ve been Mary’s job. Surely she’d reciprocate and do her this one little favor. On second thought the way she adored the man, Betsy thought it possible she’d think Betsy was the one doing the favor.

Mary didn’t see it that way the next morning when Betsy sat in front of her desk and made the request.

“I’m sorry, Betsy. There’s no way I can deal with that man.”

“But I thought you worshipped him?”

Mary blushed, her eyes getting that starry-eyed look. “I think he’s gorgeous. He’s every woman’s dream.” She quickly snapped out of her moment of fantasizing about the man and looked straight into Betsy’s eyes. “How do you expect me to talk business with the man when my mind stops functioning every time I see him? I mean, I feel like a teenager with a crush on my teacher.”

Mary was Betsy’s best friend. She was the only living soul she trusted explicitly. But she couldn’t tell her what she felt for Skylar Blakewood was much more than a passing crush. Besides, how could she tell her friend what she wasn’t ready to accept herself? Knowing she was falling in love with the man didn’t mean she had to accept it. And if she never saw him again she had a good chance of never having to.

“Come on, Mare. You know me and I just don’t have the patience to deal with the man.” Betsy’s plea sounded genuine.

“First Stephanie and now Skylar. You never had trouble controlling your temper with clients before. So what gives?”

“I never had clients like those two before. Steph only threw some business our way to flaunt her wealth like she’s been doing since high school when her mom married the rich doctor.”

“So what if the woman prides herself in reminding us working class stiffs she’s well off now. I thought you figured out she only acts that way around you because she knows it drives you crazy.”

“It shouldn’t make any difference if she’s the richest witch on the planet now. That doesn’t give her the right to act like she’s better than everyone else.”

“You’ll never convince her of that.”

“I don’t have to convince that woman of anything any more. And I refuse to stoop to her level and remind her she was poor like the rest of us before her mama snagged the good doctor.” Betsy stood to head for her office.

“So what’s the problem with Skylar? I know the man didn’t give you the impression he puts himself above the rest of the human race.”

Mary’s words stopped Betsy in her tracks. Now is your chance to tell her everything. Tell her about the kiss last night, the fear of falling in love with the man.

“I know you Betsy Alexander. You’re scared of this guy, aren’t you?”

Mary did know her better than anyone else, Betsy conceded. But how could she know the truth? Yet she did. Betsy couldn’t bring herself to tell her she was right, but hadn’t a clue why.

“Hate to disappoint you, but you don’t know me at all if you believe such nonsense.”

“If it’s nonsense then what’s the problem?”

“I’d love to give you a list of all the flaws in the man’s character, but I have calls to make.” Betsy told her in a rushed voice and quickly ran up the steps to her office before Mary could give a rebuttal.

Betsy did have important calls to make. Her voice mail loaded with calls during her morning bike ride. She had a client she needed to see about signing an extension on his listing agreement, due to expire today. But before she picked up the phone and attempted to be cheerful, she needed a few minutes to get a grip on her emotions.

She raised her window blind in hope of bringing a little sunshine inside. But the sky had become cluttered with thick dark clouds. The sight only added to the gloomy feeling that held Betsy prisoner. She closed the blind and made her way behind the mess of paperwork covering her desk.

It would take the entire morning just to clear away the clutter in front of her. With the phone calls, she’d be busy until early afternoon when she had appointments to show houses every hour until six o’clock.

Keeping busy, the medicine she needed to ward off thoughts of Skylar Blakewood. An excellent way to avoid Mary as well. Maybe tomorrow she could think of another way to convince her partner to take on Skylar as her very own client without a round of questions.

Chapter Five

Mary volunteered to take over as Skylar’s Realtor. No explanation as to why she was suddenly willing to take on the task. Betsy didn’t press her luck by tossing her questions.

The next few days whirled by leaving Betsy feeling more comfortable. She’d been so busy showing houses she barely had time to give Skylar Blakewood more than a passing thought. She was surviving just fine without him. With a little luck, she might get used to the void deep within her.

“You’re not going to like this.” Mary caught Betsy late Friday afternoon when she came into the office after a full day of showing houses.

“Sounds like I better sit down.” Betsy dropped into a chair in front of Mary’s desk. Braced for Mary’s news, she proceeded. “Okay, give it to me.”

“Skylar Blakewood wants to see you.”

Betsy felt her throat closing, her body plopped into a pressure cooker. As if that wasn’t enough, her insides tingled with excitement. But she was determined to fight all the powerful sensations invading her body.

“Well I don’t want to see him.”

“He made it sound like it was urgent.”

Betsy sat tall in spite of her exhaustion. But not so tired she was ready to cave in to this request. “Why didn’t you tell him you’re representing him now?”

Mary sat back in her seat and crossed her thin arms over her chest. She almost looked like she was pouting for being scolded. “I tried. But the man insisted on seeing you. Six thirty tonight on the hill.”

Don’t panic, Miss Sensible ordered. You can handle him. Just remember to listen to your head instead of your heart and you’ll do just fine.

Betsy glanced at her watch. Five o’clock. She had a five fifteen appointment. If she finished by six, she’d have enough time to stop home, shower, and slip into something more suitable for climbing that hill.

The five fifteen appointment lasted longer than Betsy had planned; leaving no time for the shower she needed, more for revitalization than cleansing. She took time to change into a tee shirt, jeans, and sneakers.

It was already six-thirty by the time she fired up the engine on her sports car and was on her way. Why hadn’t she sent Mary to meet Skylar? How dare he insist she meet him at six-thirty? What if she had another appointment? She didn’t, but that didn’t mean she should be speeding toward that peak on the hill. The hill the man snatched right out from under her. Unfair. The man had no idea how desperately you wanted that land. If he knew, would it have made a difference?

As Betsy maneuvered the car around the last curve in the road, she expected to see old Betsy parked alongside the road.

“Five minutes late and the guy takes off,” Betsy said to herself after checking the digital clock on the console.

But as she eased her foot off the accelerator and coasted off the side of the road, she saw a dirt road had been cut through the weeds and trees. Her gaze followed its path up the side of the hill to the top where old Betsy was parked.

Betsy turned the steering wheel and gently tapped the accelerator to start the climb. The entire time the car crept upward, she had the air conditioner on high. A vent tilted toward her face, blasting it with cold air in an attempt to relieve the sudden heat wave bombarding her.

She pulled in alongside the pickup, shut down the engine and took a peak at herself in the rearview mirror. The almond colored lipstick was smeared from her nervously biting on the corner of her lip throughout the drive. She attempted to fix it with a trembling fingertip. Her mascara appeared okay but her hair had been blown every which way from the air conditioning. She fixed it the best she could with her fingers before a sweaty palm reached for the door handle just as the door opened.

When Betsy peered up, she was looking into his warm blue eyes.

Skylar’s smile appeared as if he were relieved to see her. “I was about to give up on you.”

“My last appointment ran late,” Betsy explained even though she felt she owed him none.

Skylar reached in and grasped her hand to help her out. The mere touch caused her internal organs to go haywire. As she stood, if it weren’t for his grip on her, Betsy knew she would’ve fallen since her legs had turned to jelly, again.

“Sorry for the short notice, but I couldn’t postpone seeing you any longer.”

The man stood so close that Betsy could feel his breath on her. The scent of his cologne floated all around her, intoxicating her to the point where she felt she might be considered drunk.

She felt hypnotized as she stared into those large pupils of his. She broke the trance by focusing further south on him.

He wore a button down shirt and a new looking pair of jeans. No, she ordered herself. She couldn’t focus on his beautifully proportioned body either. It would make her fantasize about what he’d look like naked.

A deep breath to put stamina back in her wilting body and she was able to step out around him and set her sights on empty space.

“What’s the big emergency to see me?”

“Not really an emergency. But I thought you’d want to hear about my changes to the house plans.”

Betsy turned back to him. “Changes?”

Stepping up alongside her, he used his hand to point directions. “I thought I’d add a solarium on the west end of the house here. What do you think?”

“You’re talking about a higher price tag.”

“Betsy--” He cut himself off and took her hand in his again, guiding her toward the rear end of old Betsy. “I hope you haven’t eaten.”

Of course she hadn’t. Not a thing all day, which made the smorgasbord he had laid out on the tailgate even more appealing.

“What is this?” she gasped.

“Looks like food to me.” Skylar gathered two lawn chairs from the bed of the truck and opened them near the tailgate. “I made most of it myself.”

“You cook?”

“When I have time.” Skylar filled a china plate with fried chicken, potato salad, coleslaw and a biscuit.

“This must have taken you all day.”

“Not at all. The apple pie took the longest. I have yet to master getting the dough to stay in one piece long enough to get it in the pie pan.”

He handed her a plate and picked up another to fill for himself. As he did, Betsy sat down, too stunned to speak.

Skylar finished fixing his plate and sat on the chair next to her about to bite into a chicken leg when he looked over at her. “Go ahead and dig in. I promise it’s edible.”

Everything looked and smelled delicious, but Betsy couldn’t eat before posing the question that was on the tip of her tongue since she saw the display of food.

“Why did you do this?”

Skylar dropped his drumstick and stared at his plate instead of Betsy’s questioning eyes. “I thought a peace offering might rectify my rude behavior the other night.” His eyes met hers. “You were nice enough to bring me dinner and--”

“That was my own fault for not checking with you first.”

“Okay then, it’s for stealing that kiss. I really am sorry about that, Betsy. I’ve always made it a rule never to mix business and pleasure. It leads to problems.”

Betsy swallowed hard before braving a look his way. “I agree completely.”

“Good. We’ll consider this meal a business dinner. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” There, she said it. Now if her body would just cooperate and function normally around him, Betsy believed she might be able to work with the man after all.

She bit into a piece of the tender dark meat and chewed slowly to savor the taste. “This is delicious,” she told him before her next bite.

“Thank you.”

“Where did you learn to cook like this?”

Skylar had a mouthful of potato salad and held up his hand in a gesture for her to wait for him to empty his mouth. “I taught myself.”

Betsy wrinkled her brow, giving his answer a moment of thought before responding. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Mom worked long hours when I was growing up. Being the oldest of three brothers, who were always hungry, left me with the job of getting supper on the table.”

A powerful tugging sensation worked at the core of Betsy’s heart as she listened to the sadness in his tone. “It must have been hard having so much responsibility at such a young age.”

Skylar stood up and pulled the bottle of champagne he had chilling from the bucket of ice. He filled two long-stemmed glasses with the clear bubbly, handed Betsy one, then spoke. “It played havoc on my social life.” He smiled. But Betsy saw the underlying sadness he attempted to hide with the smile. “Seriously though, without those tough years, I probably never would’ve pushed so hard to get where I am today.”

“Would that be a terrific cook or successful businessman?”

He chuckled before his mouth narrowed with seriousness as did his eyes. “I’ve made it to the top of my profession. I could retire right now if I wanted to.”

“And do what?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know-travel. Maybe get married and have a few kids.” His eyes searched Betsy’s. “I haven’t figured out why I’ve been having thoughts about getting married lately.”

Betsy couldn’t breathe and quickly tipped the glass to her lips to divert her eyes away from the magnetizing glare of his. But when she swallowed, the fluid got stuck in her throat and she started coughing to keep from choking.

Skylar’s expression radiated panic. Betsy threw up her arm to let him know she was okay.

“You sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“I didn’t think my cooking was that bad,” came out in a joking manner. But Betsy saw genuine concern in his eyes.

“It was the champagne. Must have gone down the wrong pipe, I guess.”

She watched him relax a bit as he eased back down in his chair. She couldn’t help notice him glance at his watch. “Are you expecting someone to join us?”

“No.”

“I saw you checking your watch.”

He heaved a disgruntled sigh. “Yeah, well, I promised to meet Stephanie at the club for a drink later.”

Betsy’s heart plummeted to her feet. And as it slowly beat its way back to its proper location, she felt a surge of strength combined with anger and a whole lot of hurtful feelings stampeding through her all at once. Was it because of Stephanie he suddenly had thoughts of getting married?

A sick sort of churning sensation landed in the center of her stomach. She feared if she didn’t do something-anything, she might bring up the food she hadn’t had time to fully digest.

“I have to be going anyway,” she told him as she put her plate on the tailgate.

“But you haven’t had dessert.”

“I’m sorry. The meal was splendid, but I-I promised a client--”

“I understand.” Skylar looked more disappointed than disturbed. Betsy ordered her stomach to calm itself as she watched him reach into the backend of old Betsy and pick up the apple pie. “If you really must go, I insist you take this.”

“The whole pie?”

“We could share a piece over coffee in the morning,” Skylar said. “What time should I stop by?”

What’s with this guy, Betsy wondered. He was about to propose marriage to Stephanie Rogers and here he was inviting himself for breakfast at her house.

She was tempted to tell him seven would suit just fine. Her stomach even felt better thinking she’d see him again first thing in the morning.

Have you totally lost your mind woman, Miss Sensible made her presence known after a long period of peaceful silence. What happened to the agreement the two of you made earlier anyway?

“I don’t think sharing breakfast is such a good idea,” Betsy heard herself say.

A moment of silence.

“Suppose you’re right,” Skylar agreed as if he’d read her mind. “But I still want you to have the pie. What you can’t eat now, you can freeze.”

“I didn’t know you could freeze pie. But then I’m no Susie Homemaker.” She smiled as she picked up the dessert and started for her car.

“I’ll give you a call once I get the house under roof.”

Betsy glanced over her shoulder at him with the thought the man was thinking of anything he could to keep her from leaving.

“Any time you want to bring a potential buyer up before then is fine with me.”

Betsy forced back the unexplainable tears coming in her eyes and put on a smile when she nodded in acknowledgment before ducking inside her car.

Once she had the vehicle turned around and headed down the hillside, she looked into the rearview mirror and saw him standing on the hill, gazing in her direction.

As Betsy turned onto the country road, she used the back of her hand to dry her cheeks and sniffled back several times, but the floodgates were unable to hold back the salty tasting liquid rolling down her cheeks and into her mouth.

At the intersection, she rammed the gearshift into park and let her head droop over the steering wheel. She cried until her eyes squeezed out the final tear. She continued to sob as she slowly raised her head so she could see herself in the mirror.

“Good grief!” she gasped at the frightful face staring back at her.

What was happening to her? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried like that.

She caught sight of a car coming up to her rear and didn’t wait for the sound of a honking horn to get moving again.

Betsy turned onto the main street and headed for home. She knew the distance to her house was not far enough to work out all the conflicting thoughts bombarding her mind. The smart thing would be to blame all the emotional upheaval on PMS.

Once she arrived home, took a shower, and pulled on her favorite one piece terry cloth short set, reality hit. Post Menstrual Syndrome wasn’t the culprit. Skylar Blakewood was. She was falling in love with the man. The tears could be blamed on knowing he didn’t share those feelings. After all, the man planned to marry Stephanie Rogers. Didn’t he?

Betsy paced around her living room for the next hour trying to find a solution to her predicament. Then she remembered the promise to herself all those months ago to never let her guard down around a man.

If she ignored the emptiness she felt when she and Skylar were apart, with any luck it just might go away. There was the other option. She could tell Skylar the truth. She’d fallen in love with him. Then she could be humiliated when he laughed at her.

She crawled into bed after making the decision to get a grip on her emotions and throw up a shield of armor to prevent this from ever happening again.

The grueling weekend of doing everything from a long motorcycle ride, swimming, then hiking up the side of a mountain to strengthen her body while she willed herself to fight emotions, had Betsy feeling almost normal by the time she strolled in the front door at work Monday morning.

She smiled and nodded at Mary who was on the phone when she buzzed past her desk and up the stairs to her office. Settled behind her desk she checked her appointment book. The newlyweds were due in her office in a half hour to draw up an agreement on a house she showed them Friday. From there she had a day full of house showings.

“Guess who I just got off the phone with?” Mary said, wide-eyed as she stepped on the landing.

Betsy shrugged her shoulders. “I give up, who?”

“Skylar Blakewood. He’s on his way over here.”

“Now?”

“Should be here any minute. He has a revised copy of the house plans for you.”

Betsy twisted open the top button on her blouse before it totally cut off the air to her lungs. She had to get out of the building before she suffocated. Before Skylar arrived.

“Oh by the way, you never did tell me what your Friday night meeting with him was about.”

Betsy ignored her friend and slid the strap to her shoulder bag up her arm. A picnic and a kiss would sum it up for her. But Betsy didn’t have time to get into a discussion on either subject.

“He wanted to point out where an addition will go,” Betsy offered as she slipped past Mary.

“Where you going?”

Betsy kept moving down the steps and toward the front door when she called back over her shoulder. “I have some banking to do.”

“What about Skylar? He should be here--”

“He can leave the plans with you.”

Whatever Mary said fell on deaf ears. Betsy had already exited the building. She slipped down the alley that ran along the two story structure, a shortcut to the bank, two blocks away. She had no reason to enter the bank. She’d done her banking on Friday.

Betsy turned the corner onto the main street of town. She traveled down the business district like a woman running from a fire; a fire of desire no amount of willpower and determination could extinguish.

She found herself inside the corner drug store standing at the checkout counter with a bottle of Pepto Bismol in her hand. It was worth a try, she thought, but knew a dose of the awful tasting liquid wasn’t going to do a thing for the giddy sensation in the pit of her stomach. Her sickness couldn’t be cured with any kind of over the counter medicine.

Slowing her pace considerably, she headed back toward the office. Hopefully enough time had passed for Skylar to have dropped off his house plans and gone on his way. But as Betsy approached the end of the alley, she spotted old Betsy parked across the street. She smashed her back against the brick building wall and froze.

“What’s wrong with me,” she was finally able to mutter. Just because her body responded so vibrantly in his presence, she couldn’t spend the rest of her life hiding from the man.

She closed her eyes, willed herself to concentrate, and within seconds flipped open her eyelids. Taking a deep breath, she shoved her chin in the air and peeled her back off the wall. As she rounded the corner of the building and headed for the front door, she repeatedly told herself her body parts would not begin acting up when she saw him.

Betsy opened the door, about to forge onward, only to be stopped in her tracks by the sight of the large frame filling the doorway. She instantly got a whiff of the familiar cologne. A fluttering sensation tickled the core of her stomach. But she refused to allow this mild sensation to trigger anything more powerful. After all, it was her body and she was in charge of it and extremely proud of herself for not barreling smack into him when she came in the door.

“Finally!” declared Skylar as his eyes made a quick sweep down Betsy’s front, lingering slightly on her breasts before finishing the journey.

His warm smile made her believe he was happy to see her, but Betsy noted the hint of sarcasm in his tone and responded in kind. “Finally? I’m very busy, Skylar. You can’t drop by whenever the mood strikes and assume I will be here or free to see you.”

“Betsy!” Mary shrieked from behind her desk. “If you’re finished, there are customers waiting to see you in your office.”

“And I wouldn’t think of taking up a second more of your precious time.” Skylar brushed past her on his way out the door.

Betsy remained speechless and breathless as she watched him pass. Her silence continued as he crossed the street. By the time he reached old Betsy, panic set in. She took a quick look at Mary and took off after him.

“Skylar,” Betsy called out as she darted into the street without looking.

If it were not for the sound of tires squealing and a horn honking, he never would’ve looked back. But he did, just as Betsy jumped onto the curb.

“Hey lady, you tryin’ to get yourself killed?” A man shouted from inside the passing car.

Betsy mouthed a sorry, then looked away from him to see Skylar only inches away from her. His eyes, warm and gentle, gazed down into hers. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw his hands coming up the side of her like he was about to put them on her. Instead, he quickly dropped them to his sides.

“You almost gave me heart failure, woman.”

“The guy didn’t even come close to hitting me.”

Skylar ran his fingers through the dark mass on top of his head. “You know you are-just don’t ever give me a scare like that again, okay?”

Confusion filled her. What did he care if she got ran over by a Mack truck? Tempted to say as much, she bit back the words, but had no idea why.

“I’ll look both ways before I cross a street again. Satisfied?”

A displeased grunt came before the words. “What were you running after me for anyway?”

Betsy finally released the firm hold on her breath, determined not to spout something about never running after a man. “I wanted to apologize for being so short with you.”

“Not necessary. You said what was on your mind. I can appreciate that. When I need to see you again, I’ll be sure to make an appointment.”

Betsy shook her head. “No. You’re a client. Clients can drop in whenever they want. It’s just that I’m not always in the office and--”

“How was the pie?”

Betsy peered up into the pair of eyes staring down at her. “Excuse me?”

“The apple pie.”

“Oh, the pie. It was delicious. Finished the last piece this morning for breakfast.”

“I’m glad you liked it. So what kind do you want next time?”

Betsy’s mouth opened, but it took a few seconds for the words to come. “I thought we agreed not to mix business with pleasure.”

Skylar snickered. “I have yet to see an agreement that wasn’t made to be broken.” He slipped his arm around her elbow. “Now, I think I should see you safely back across the street.”

Betsy jerked her arm away in protest. “I’m perfectly capable of crossing the street myself, thank you.”

Skylar backed off chuckling. As he did, he slid his hands inside his trouser pockets and headed toward old Betsy. “Suit yourself, Miss Independence.”

His words came to Betsy as she stood on the curb looking both ways down the street. Safe to cross, she stepped off the curb, feeling thoroughly confused and aroused from the leftover feel of his arm linked with hers.

“I apologized,” she told Mary the moment she stepped inside and strolled past her desk, ignoring her look of disapproval.

“Sorry to keep you waiting folks.” She apologized to the young couple sitting in front of her desk.

“That’s okay. We have the whole morning free,” the bubbly new bride offered.

Betsy sat down behind her desk. “Well let’s hope this doesn’t take that long.”

“You don’t think there’s gonna be a problem getting mortgage approval, do you?” came from the groom.

Betsy smiled with the hope of easing his tension, then gave the paperwork in front of her a quick scan. “Income and credit history look great. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Okay then, where do we sign?” he asked, lightening up with a smile.

Betsy pulled a contract out from under files. “Before you sign this, we need to finish filling it out. Have you agreed on a price?”

She tried not to stare, but couldn’t help noticing the indecision on their faces. This could take the duration of the morning, she decided, not pleased by the thought. She had things to do. The most important, trying to figure out what Skylar meant by his comment on contracts being made to be broken. What about his reference to her as Miss Independence? Had she jerked away from him to proclaim her independence or because her body began heating up the moment he touched her?

Chapter Six

Betsy had little time to think about anything but work over the next weeks. The Federal Reserve Board had dropped the interest rate and buyers were taking full advantage. Gobbling up properties as if they were afraid the rate would shoot back up without warning.

The long hours and hectic pace made the days whirl by. With all the settlements Betsy had lined up for the end of September, she’d be able to get a few payments ahead on her business loan. If everything went as planned, she’d be able to sock away a sizeable chunk of cash for the land to build her dream house. She hadn’t found another hilltop but was confident she would.

In her office, she kicked back in the desk chair, letting her thoughts drift. She’d been successful keeping thoughts of Skylar at bay. Not hearing from him had helped. He did say he’d call when the house was under roof. But that didn’t let her off the hook from feeling a twinge of guilt. As his Realtor, part of her job was to check on the progress of the house. She touched base with her other clients at least once a week. Why should Skylar Blakewood be any different?

She checked her watch. “Six o’clock!” Betsy could’ve sworn she’d just said goodbye to Mary a few minutes ago. She’d daydreamed away an hour since Mary always leaves the office at five on the dot.

Snatching her appointment book from beneath a stack of files, and seeing she had a free evening gave instant relief. The hour hadn’t been wasted. It gave her just enough time to catch her breath and get her second wind for an evening free of work.

She left the office and stopped home long enough to jam a load of clothes into the washing machine and slip out of her dress and into a pair of jeans and tee shirt.

Back outside, the chill of excitement that ripped through her had little to do with the crisp evening air when she hopped on her bike.

She gunned the throttle until she was moving at a dangerous speed. But Betsy wasn’t thinking of what would happen if she blew a tire or lost control and ran off the road. Her thoughts were clear. She smiled as the cool wind slapped at her face.

Turning onto the country road, she inhaled deeply to cleanse her lungs with the fresh scented air. She eased off the gas while she coasted down hills and around curves in the road. At the same time, she took in the breathtaking beauty around her.

The forest of trees to her left and right were already blossoming with the splendor of autumn. Gold, red, yellow, orange and green batches of leaves sent a halo beneath the darkening evening sky.

Betsy told herself it wasn’t intentional, but out of habit that she’d taken the turnoff bringing her to that once upon a time dreamland. No cause for alarm, she decided as she came to a stop near the base of the hilltop. She’d check the progress on the house so she’d know when she could start bringing prospective buyers. But when she focused on the peak instant panic set in.

Spotting old Betsy on the hilltop meant Skylar was near. Then she caught sight of the tall and round brick framework. She’d been right. Skylar and his work crew were erecting a castle. But it wasn’t the dreary stone gray monstrosity she predicted. It was white--pure and brand spanking new.

As if it had called to her, she found herself halfway up the hillside before she realized it. She hesitated debating rather to turn around and high tail it out of there or proceed.

“Sort of senseless to leave now,” she mumbled. But was she up to seeing him? Could she throw up the shields, and face the man like a client?

She shut off the bike and pushed it in the direction of the house. But that didn’t mean she was comfortable with the choice she’d made.

She hesitated a second time when she heard him humming a lively rock ‘n’ roll tune. She smiled. Her entire body awakened with a smile. Keeping her shields in place was the furthest thought from her mind when she worked down the kick stand on her bike and hurried toward the stimulating sound.

When she saw him, her feet felt like they went out from under her. He had his back to her and was pounding a nail into one of the boards in the semi-finished room partition. His hair was out of place and speckled with saw dust. His sleeveless white tee shirt molded to his broad and tanned shoulders. Faded jeans hugged his long legs. The same legs Betsy had fantasized entwined around hers.

She could’ve stood there and watched him work the remainder of the night. But she felt almost like a peeping Tom and decided it only fair to make her presence known.

“Hard at work, are you?”

Skylar stood motionless and silent for what seemed like forever before turning around. Then, another tense, yet exhilarating time span of silence. But their eyes seemed to be talking up a storm.

“This is a surprise,” he said.

“You’re working late. I mean isn’t the boss the one who’s suppose to quit early?” Betsy knew she’d rambled on to combat the powerful tidal waves of emotions breaking within her.

“This isn’t work. Putting this home together is pure pleasure.”

“Loving what you do for a living sure makes life easier.”

“I prefer to think of it as rewarding.”

More silence while their eyes had a second meeting and carried on a beautiful conversation.

“You must enjoy your work too to be out here at this time of day,” Skylar said, and broke the stare by turning back around to make a final swing with the hammer before tossing it into his tool box opened on the floor.

Betsy snickered. “I’m not working. I was out for a bike ride, saw old Betsy and thought I’d check out the progress on the house.”

Skylar grinned as he spun back around to face her. “The old girl does seem to stick out.” He’d managed to move toward her before Betsy realized it. She could feel his breath on her when he spoke again. “So what do you think of the place so far?”

The deep husky whisper sent a chill racing up and down her spine and she shivered. Before she had a chance to respond Skylar disappeared behind the room partition and materialized a second later with a jean jacket. He slid it around her. Once in place, his hands remained on her shoulders. .

Betsy’s body temperature climbed to a record high in a matter of seconds. She was fully aware the jacket draped over her shoulders was not the reason why. The way his fingers rubbed over her created the heat. When they stopped moving she could feel the warmth from them penetrating through the material. His body heat moved through her, filling her to the core of her being with warmth.

He leaned over so his eyes were even with hers and the inner heat increased. A fire broke out the instant his lips closed over hers. Her body molded into his. As he moved his lips ever so slightly over hers, and drew her closer, fitting her body into the curves of his, Betsy felt her body quake on the verge of some sort of spectacular eruption she’d waited a life time to experience.

A blast of cold air slapped her in the face when Skylar suddenly withdrew his lips. He only pulled back an inch from her. When he began to speak, the heat from his breath chased away the cold. “I don’t know about you, but that sure warmed me up. Should we try it again?”

His lips returned to hers before Betsy had a chance to speak.

The second time his lips slid off hers, they made a quick swoop to her throat, tasting and teasing her superbly. As he worked his way back to her lips, Betsy held onto him, drawing him closer, wanting to absorb all of him inside of her.

“You’re beautiful,” he groaned just before his lips collided into hers.

“Yo, boss man.” Charlie Webber signaled his arrival as he approached.

Skylar’s jacket slid off Betsy’s shoulders. She blushed as she straightened her shirt when the brute of a man stepped next to them.

“What are you doing back here, Charlie?” Skylar asked.

Charlie’s eyes lingered on Betsy. “Sorry, boss. Didn’t know you had company.”

“This is my Realtor. Betsy Alexander, Charlie Webber, my foreman.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss.”

Betsy nodded and smiled a greeting because she simply felt too embarrassed to search for her voice.

“The wife’s havin’ some candle party at the house. Figured you’d still be workin’ and I’d give you a hand.”

“Well I won’t hold you two up from your work,” Betsy managed to say and began moving away from them. “Nice to meet you, Mr.Webber,” she tacked on without missing a step or a look back at the two men.

She almost made it to her bike when Skylar’s voice rang out. “Hold up a minute, Betsy.”

She obeyed and stopped in her tracks.

“You don’t have to rush off. I’ll send Charlie on his way and--”

Betsy stiffened before looking back at him. “No. I really need to go.”

But she was having trouble moving away from the spot. She felt paralyzed as his eyes gazed into hers. God she ached for the touch of his lips on hers one more time, to feel his strong arms around her, drawing her against him. The thought caused her body to heat up all over again.

He glanced at her motorcycle. “The deer start crossing on these back roads about this time of day. One could shoot in front of you.” His hand landed on her shoulder and gave a gentle massage. “Just let me get rid of Charlie and I’ll drive you home, okay?”

Yes, send Charlie home so we can go home. And--it struck her. If Skylar drove her home there’d be no stopping the inevitable. Betsy knew she couldn’t handle a one night roll between the sheets with Skylar Blakewood. It wouldn’t be enough for her even though she believed it would suit him.

She gripped the handlebars to her bike. “I’ll be extra careful.”

Disappointment spread over Skylar’s face. “If you insist. But I’ll call you. Maybe we can meet for lunch tomorrow, dinner and then….”

A great big smile landed on Betsy’s face. “I’ll be waiting by the phone.” She revved the motor and was on her way.

She looked back over her shoulder a dozen times to him as she coasted down the hillside. At the bottom, she stopped long enough to return his goodbye wave.

She rode toward home on cloud nine. Blinded to her surroundings, she saw only his warm smile and those captivating blue eyes. She ran her tongue over her lips to savor the leftover taste of him. She inhaled deeply and continuously just for an occasional whiff of the traces of aftershave his cheeks had left on hers.

If she listened closely, she could hear his deep husky whisper. “You’re beautiful.”

Did he really mean it? Reality began tugging at Betsy until she plummeted back to planet earth. He probably told all his conquest they were beautiful if it meant his sexual need would be satisfied.

Betsy was fully aware it was Miss Sensible putting these thoughts in her head. She didn’t want them there, but decided to play it safe and keep her guard on standby.

Miss Sensible hadn’t taken away her high spirits when she went in the door at home. As she tossed clothes in the dryer and jammed a second load into the washing machine, she unconsciously hummed the same rock ‘n’ roll tune she’d heard Skylar humming earlier.

By the time she undressed and stepped into the shower, she put words to the catchy tune. She lathered with lavender scented soap, singing and whistling. As she rinsed, she became silent, closing her eyes and allowing the needles of hot liquid to prod and poke at her. She imagined Skylar’s fingers and tongue pleasuring her over and over again.

The ringing telephone reached into her fantasy and dragged her kicking and screaming back to reality. She shut off the water and reached for a towel, trying to wrap it around her as she dashed out of the bathroom and into her bedroom.

She picked up before the answering machine. “Hello.”

“You made it.”

The sound of his voice made her tipsy. Her fingers released the towel and it slid to the floor. “You weren’t worried that I wouldn’t, were you?”

“I know you can take care of yourself. But there are all kinds of dangers on the road.”

Betsy smiled, enjoying his concern. “I got home safe and sound.”

Silence on the line. Betsy listened to his breathing and discovered her own had grown heavy with longing for him--the feel of his gentle caresses and the taste of his lips all over her trembling body.

“Suppose I should say goodnight,” he said. “It’s just I really don’t want to.”

Betsy wondered if he knew the sound of his voice was seducing her, or how feverish her body had become.

“My body--” The sound of her voice startled her more than discovering she was stark naked.

“You have a beautiful body.”

Betsy giggled. “I meant to say I’m standing here dripping wet.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“I was in the shower when the phone rang.”

“So you’re naked?”

Betsy snatched up the towel from around her feet and covered her front. “I have a towel.”

“I’d like to see that.”

Betsy swallowed the lump in her throat. “I think you were right. We should say goodnight.”

“I want to come over, Betsy.”

Betsy glanced down her front. “Now?”

“I promise not to stay long.”

Oh yes, do come. Please hurry, her body responded. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” is what she told him.

Silence on the line again.

“No, I suppose not. Can we meet for lunch tomorrow?”

Betsy knew the day ahead was filled with appointments. No time for a leisurely lunch. No time for lunch at all. But she couldn’t imagine making it through the day without seeing him.

“Lunch sounds wonderful.”

“How ‘bout breakfast first? Lunch seems like forever.”

Betsy melted all over again. Why wait until breakfast. Another minute apart from you is much too long. Miss Sensible intervened. “What time?”

“Is seven too early?”

Seven is an eternity to wait. “Seven is fine.”

“The donut shop okay?”

“I’ll be there.”

At some point over the next several minutes Betsy put down the receiver. She assumed Skylar did the same.

She pulled a flannel night shirt and a pair of cotton panties from her top dresser drawer and wasted no time putting them on. She crawled into bed determined to sleep fast so morning would come.

Did he say she had a beautiful body? He did. Tiny in stature, but she had the slender curves of a woman. What she liked most about her body was the length of her legs. In shorts or a skirt they made her look all legs and a lot taller than her five foot two inch height.

The longest night of her life ended at six in the morning when she began worrying she might actually nod off and oversleep. She slid back the covers and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. A few arm stretches and neck rolls and she finally put the full weight of her body on her feet.

There was no need to waste time with indecision about what she would wear to meet Skylar. Her lucky dress seemed the only thing in her meager wardrobe appropriate for the occasion. She felt like the luckiest woman alive. She was in love with life--with Skylar Blakewood, her confidence building that he felt the same.

She could make it to the donut shop in less than five minutes. So she could take her time making herself beautiful for their meeting. The primping took less than thirty minutes. But she couldn’t survive spending the next twenty five minutes pacing around her apartment. She set out into the foggy morning.

Spotting old Betsy already in the parking lot created panic. Betsy quickly checked her watch thinking she was late. According to her watch, she had twenty minutes to spare. But she hurried inside anyway.

Skylar had swung his long legs out from under the table in a corner booth and was standing by the time Betsy stepped in front of him

“You’re early,” he said.

His smile was like a breath of fresh air to Betsy. “So are you,” she said, gazing up into his eyes.

“I woke up early.” He blinked and snickered when his eyes greeted hers again. “The truth is I had trouble sleeping. I think I was afraid I’d oversleep.”

Betsy smiled as he described her own miserable night. “I think we both could use a coffee if we’re going to be able to face the day.”

Skylar reached for her hands, sliding his fingers between hers and drawing them to his lips. As he kissed each knuckle, his eyes gazed into hers. “I can face every day as long as I get a chance to see you.”

Betsy’s insides turned inside and out. Her legs went out from under her and she was suspended in midair. It felt heavenly.

“But I suppose we can’t live on love alone.” He said the words as nonchalantly as he’d let go of her hands. But Betsy knew he had said them. There was nothing wrong with her hearing. Skylar Blakewood had more or less confessed he loved her.

The next thing Betsy remembered was sitting at the booth alone. Skylar returned soon after carrying a tray with two steaming mugs of coffee and a plate of donuts, twelve varieties in all.

“I forgot to ask you what kind you like. But I think you should be able to find something here.”

He sounded serious and Betsy couldn’t help but start to laugh. “I should hope so.”

A big smile broke over his face. “It is a bit much. We’ll ask for a doggie bag. Though I don’t have a dog and I don’t recall seeing one at your place.”

Betsy gently slapped his hand because she was laughing too hard to speak. The laughter seized the instant his fingers wiggled between hers on the tabletop and gently squeezed. Once again he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

Blissful silence.

Minutes passed before Skylar gently placed her hand back on the tabletop and released her fingers. “Our coffee is getting cold.” His eyes never left hers until he finished his sentence.

For the next half hour they ate, drank and talked business. Skylar did most of the talking. Betsy listened intently. Her eyes seldom left his while she nibbled on a cream-filled donut she couldn’t remember tasting. But she remembered vividly every word Skylar spoke. The most important were when he proclaimed the house on the hill would be completed before Christmas. He seemed adamant she have the house sold before the New Year.

“I will try,” Betsy assured. “But with the holidays, December is not a good selling month.”

“I’m planning a big celebration New Year’s Eve.” He snickered. “I may need the proceeds from the sale to cover the expenses.”

“Must be some celebration.”

Skylar tossed her a mysterious smile, then glanced at his watch. “As much as I hate leaving you, I must. My crew should be at the house and I have some changes to discuss with them before they get too far along.”

“Yes, I have tons of paperwork waiting for me before my first house showing,” Betsy admitted grudgingly as she slid across her seat and stood.

Skylar followed her lead and picked up the leftover plate of donuts. “Let me get a box and I’ll walk you out.”

Betsy waited at the door while the waitress placed the donuts into a take-out box. The entire time, Betsy noted the gorgeous creature batting her long thick lashes at Skylar. She winked at him when she handed him the box.

“A friend of yours?” Betsy snapped as she went through the door ahead of him.

“You mean Georgia?” he asked with a look of innocence in those big blue eyes.

“If that’s her name.” Again, Betsy’s tone had been short. But she really hadn’t intended it to be. After all, she had no reason to act jealous. But she was.

“Georgia’s a nice girl. But hardly someone I’d call a friend. She’s more an acquaintance.”

“Whatever that means,” Betsy grumbled under her breath and started to open her car door.

Skylar stepped up and pushed the door shut with his knee. Betsy sensed his gaze. But she focused on the ground until Skylar’s fingers cupped her chin tilting it upward.

“You can’t leave without a kiss.”

Betsy saw his lips heading for hers. The instant they landed, she closed her eyes. Stars before the explosion of magnificent fireworks going off in front of her as his tongue parted her lips and explored inside. Touching and tasting everywhere before he withdrew and dragged his lips off hers.

“Are we still on for lunch?” he murmured against her ear before tormenting her more as his lips tiptoed down the side of her throat.

Betsy’s breath grew heavy and she wasn’t sure anything would come out when she attempted an answer. But the words did come, barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if I can wait that long.”

“Me either,” he whispered between kisses.

“Where?”

“I’ll pick you up at your office.”

His lips returned to hers, sucking on them as if he wanted to draw her breath into his lungs. She gasped for air when he pulled back.

He opened her car door. As Betsy started to duck inside, he dropped the donut box on the roof and took her in his arms, hugging her so powerfully that it almost hurt. When he let go, Betsy felt like he’d squeezed out all her body juices; then another kiss, giving back twofold all that he had taken.

“I’ll be there for you at twelve sharp,” he murmured after slowly prying his lips from hers.

He headed for his truck, leaving Betsy drunk from the passion his touch had unleashed. She wasn’t quite clear how, but had pulled out of the parking lot ahead of him and driven to her office.

She was still smiling when she turned the key in the front door.

It seemed a bit odd not seeing Mary hard at it behind her desk. But then, Betsy rarely made her way into the office before nine when Mary appeared promptly at her desk.

As Betsy climbed the stairs to her office, she began looking forward to the next hour of solitude. She opened her window blind to fill the room with some of that radiant sunshine breaking through the early morning fog, then sat behind her desk. Still smiling, she leaned back and closed her eyes. The sound of Skylar’s voice seeped into the silence surrounding her. His image was just beginning to come to her when Stephanie Rogers’s voice intruded.

“Betsy. Are you up there, Betsy?”

Betsy flipped open her eyelids and shot forward. She knew she’d forgotten something when she stepped inside the front door. Now she remembered what it was. She’d forgotten to lock the door behind her.

But not even Stephanie Rogers could spoil the best day of Betsy’s life. She wouldn’t allow it.

“There you are,” declared the perky woman who seemed to fill the doorway to Betsy’s office. Her radiant smile showed off her sparkling white teeth.

Nobody’s teeth were that perfect. With the quickness of lightning, it struck Betsy they might be false teeth. For a second she visualized a clattering pair of teeth falling out and Stephanie’s gums clamping together in her state of humiliation. Betsy nearly broke out laughing but caught herself just in the nick of time.

“Steph, isn’t it a little early for you to be up and about?”

“I like someone with a sharp memory.”

Betsy watched her gracefully ease into one of the two chairs in front of her desk, while trying to guess what the manipulative and cunning beauty queen wanted.

Stephanie sighed. “Actually, I’ve given our prior meeting some thought since my house is still on the market.”

Betsy arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yes. The gentleman who was interested--well he’s changed his mind.” Now that was odd. Betsy could’ve sworn she saw her blush just before she referred to her lost buyer as a gentleman. “Anyway, Skylar seems to think I should re-list the house with you.”

“Skylar?”

“We talked about it again late last night.” She smiled wickedly. “Actually, it must’ve been early this morning. Anyway, I’ve decided to give you a second go at it.”

Dead silence.

“You can drop by the house tomorrow with a new contract,” she said as she stood. “Tomorrow’s okay, isn’t it?”

Betsy couldn’t believe her ears. It wasn’t that Stephanie finally asked instead of giving an order that temporarily knocked the wind out of Betsy. It was the way she rubbed it in about being with Skylar.

God only knew how she ever managed to speak when she said, “I’ll check my schedule and call you.”

“Good girl.”

I’m not a girl. I’m the same age as you and a woman. Betsy wanted to scream.

She glared at the picture perfect woman posed in the doorway and positively beaming. “Is there something else, Steph?”

When Stephanie first held out her hand and flashed the huge sparkling rock, it didn’t mean anything. After all, the woman was always wearing diamonds. Around her neck, wrists--wait a minute.

“You’re engaged?”

Stephanie beamed. “He gave it to me last night. We haven’t made an official announcement so I’d appreciate you keeping it to yourself until we do.” She turned to leave and stopped. “You might want to check your calendar. We are tentatively planning the big day for New Year’s Eve.”

Chapter Seven

Betsy managed to remain in one piece until she heard the front office door close behind Stephanie. Time to fall apart. Scream. Cry. Trash the room. But she did none of it.

She was too broken to budge from her seat. The slightest twitch of a muscle would be too unbearably painful to tolerate. If her mind had not temporarily shut down as well, Betsy would’ve thought she’d gone into shock.

The sound of the front door opening and closing triggered some mechanism inside that returned her motor skills. The pain of returning to life was like none she had ever known before. Her heart felt like it was being stabbed over and over again with the shiny point of a dagger. This brutal attack on her heart was quickly draining the blood and oxygen from her and Betsy feared she might be dying.

“You’re in early,” Mary greeted from the doorway. Her pleasant smile vanished the second Betsy looked up at her. “My God, what’s wrong? You’re as white as a ghost.”

Betsy had no way of knowing if anything would come out if she tried to speak. But she made the effort anyway. “I don’t feel good, Mary.” She heard her voice and sensed Mary did too.

Panic sprung from Mary’s face and eyes. “Should I call a doctor?”

“No. But I think I need to go home.” As Betsy said the words she attempted to stand. First attempt failed. Second time she willed there to be feeling in her legs there was.

“Do you want me to drive you?” Without waiting for a response, “I’ll just lock up the office--”

“No. I can manage,” Betsy insisted as she started down the stairs.

“Don’t worry about your appointments. I’ll handle them. And be sure and call if you need anything.”

Betsy listened to Mary’s nervous chatter as she walked her to the door. But she didn’t remember a word of what she’d said after stepping out beneath the suddenly overcast sky.

The drive home was a blur. But she was there, sitting behind the steering wheel staring at the large raindrops beginning to splatter against the windshield.

By the time she opened the car door to go inside, it was pouring. Maybe it was the way the rain began belting her face that awakened a new set of emotions inside her. By the time she stepped inside her apartment her face was soaked with more tears than rain.

She headed straight for her bedroom. Without bothering to kick off her heels, she threw herself face down on the bed. A thousand tears poured from her eyes before easing to a few trickles and she rolled to her side. Sobbing, her vision blurred, she listened to the thunderstorm raging outside. The rumble of thunder was followed by rain slashing against the two bedroom windows.

Betsy continued to listen and blink to clear her vision as she rolled onto her back. The slight movement sent another excruciatingly painful stabbing sensation through the center of her heart. As she lay motionless, there was pain everywhere, especially in her big toe she thought had healed from the picnic basket landing.

“Check your calendar. Tentatively the big day is scheduled for New Year’s Eve.” Stephanie’s words swirled inside her head.

“I’ll check my calendar all right. And I’ll be sure to fill it so full I won’t have time to think straight.” Certainly too full to attend a wedding, she said in silence.

No way could she listen to Skylar pledge his love to another.

“Oh, God, how could I have been so naïve?” Betsy demanded of herself.

She’d been badly hurt by a man twice before. Third time’s the charm, Miss Sensible reminded sarcastically.

“Oh shut up,” Betsy snapped.

Charm was hardly the word Betsy would use to describe her third betrayal by a man. Burned, humiliated, and shattered into a million little pieces. And still, she doubted all of them combined described the pain ripping through her.

“To tell you the truth, I didn’t sleep a wink last night.” Skylar’s words from earlier filled her head.

“Of course you didn’t. You were too busy proposing marriage to Stephanie.”

Betsy drew her knees to her chest thinking it might relieve her upset stomach. She believed the relief that came was a result of the anger beginning to burn through her, bringing back a steady increase in her strength.

“I might need the proceeds to cover the expenses of the New Year’s Eve celebration I’m giving.”

Betsy knew they weren’t Skylar’s exact words at the donut shop earlier, but that’s how they were coming to her now.

“Skylar Blakewood, the sly one,” Betsy quipped in a mocking manner.

You wanted me to feel like you couldn’t live without me. His way of getting me to work at peak performance selling his house so he can pay for the wedding reception. Throw in one last fling before fully committing to Stephanie.

Betsy’s anger grew in leaps and bounds, restoring her with more strength than she had ever known. She was a mountain of solid rock. A blockade so sturdy that she felt confident not even Skylar Blakewood could penetrate.

By eleven o’clock she returned to work assuring Mary she was fully recovered from whatever she’d been stricken with earlier. Fully recovered and prepared to tackle the remainder of the day and the rest of her life head on. Beginning with the luncheon date she had promised Skylar.

At eleven fifty five Betsy watched Mary leave the office to go to lunch. There was no need for Miss Sensible to insert her two cents while Betsy mentally prepared for Skylar’s arrival. She was determined to stand on her own two feet and have the encounter with the courage of a decorated war hero. After all, she had escaped the torturous battle of pain that had taken her body prisoner. In Betsy’s eyes making her a veteran of war. A war against the heart.

The sound of the front office door creaking open sent a chill racing up Betsy’s spine. She managed to shrug it off, then willed her stomach to settle down when he appeared in the doorway to her office.

“I missed you.” His voice was thick and inviting as he stood gazing at Betsy with longing in his eyes.

Longing hell, she thought. It was nothing more than lust kicking in thinking he was getting close to relieving the throbbing hardness beginning to bulge in the front of his jeans.

Betsy stiffened in her desk chair with every intention of smothering the flames that were beginning to lick at those precious female parts of her own anatomy.

“Are we alone?” he whispered as he moved closer.

“Skylar, I can’t have lunch with you.” There, she’d said it. And she was extremely proud of the firmness in her tone.

The color drained from him as swiftly as his strides toward her stopped. “You can’t?”

“I won’t.” Two very difficult words to get over her lips. But once they passed, Betsy knew she’d be able to proceed without wilting beneath those spellbinding blue eyes of his.

Skylar stood taller. “I thought we were--well you know--”

Betsy cleared her throat out loud. “I had some time to think about us this morning.”
“Dare I ask what this thought process left you with?”

“I’ve decided we should hold to our earlier agreement not to mix business with pleasure.”

“You decided?” His voice broke over hers like a roar of thunder. “Need I remind you that in order for an agreement to be binding you need both parties’ consent?”

Betsy remained rock solid in spite of the powerful vibrations from his voice. “But you did agree.”

A moment of silence before he spoke. “I have the solution.”

Betsy was giving it her all to fight the urge to feel the burst of excitement Skylar suddenly portrayed.

He was smiling when he shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s simple. You’re fired. Now can we go to lunch? There’s this little place I found--”

“You can’t fire me,” Betsy protested once she fully absorbed what he said. “We have a binding contract. And I full well intend to live up to my end of the agreement. I have six months to produce a buyer and--”

“Not quite. I told you this morning I want that house sold by the end of the year, remember?”

The way he had jumped right in wasn’t what threw Betsy a curve. It was being reminded of his betrayal. Well, she refused to cave in even though his words had struck a powerful blow.

“The written contract giving me six months is binding. But your house will be sold by the New Year,” Betsy assured in one biting breath.

She focused on the paperwork scattered about her desk and pulled a contract out of the mess and pretended to be studying it because she couldn’t bear looking at him.

Her words had been spoken softly. But it became apparent they were loud enough for him to hear. He only hesitated a few seconds before storming down the steps and finalizing his departure with the sound of the front door slamming behind him.

The telephone rang before Betsy had time to give what happened a moment’s thought.

“Alexander and Gold Real Estate Agency, Betsy speaking…. Yes, I’m familiar with that property…. Eighty-two five….”

The line went dead just as Betsy had predicted. She recognized the voice. The woman had called several times over the last week checking house prices from the For Sale signs she’d seen posted in yards. Betsy gave up trying to get her name.

She put the receiver back in its cradle and prayed it would ring again. At least then she wouldn’t have time to think about him. To wonder what he was thinking. Where would he go after storming out of her office? Did he think her ridiculous to enforce the agreement they had made after that first kiss?

It was the only excuse she could come up with. She certainly couldn’t tell him the truth. She refused to let him see her humiliation if she were to tell him she knew about his engagement to Stephanie. She didn’t dare let him know how severely that fact hurt her. Surely it would only boost his ego knowing he had broken her heart.

Betsy was confident hers was not anywhere near being the first. He was probably putting notches on his belt for each heart he successfully broke. Well he wasn’t going to add a notch for hers. He was never going to know the truth. No one would.

When Mary returned from lunch she came up to Betsy’s office to let her know she was back. Betsy saw her do a double take after glancing at her desk.

“First you’ve seen the wood in a while, isn’t it?” Betsy said, pleased with herself for finally putting some order into the clutter.

“Your lunch hour appointment didn’t show?” Mary asked continuing to stare wide-eyed at the neat desk top.

“He was here. But we cleared away business quickly.”

“And you got bored?”

The truth is I needed to do something to get my mind off the man I fell head-over-heels in love with, Betsy wanted to tell her. But she couldn’t. Or tell her their affair was nothing more than a little fling for him before he married Stephanie Rogers.

Loyalty to a client had nothing to do with Betsy not confiding in Mary. She didn’t feel she owed Stephanie a thing. Especially not her loyalty after she had privately arranged the sale of her house while under contract with the agency. But Betsy would keep the secret Stephanie had shared with her early that morning. Not a soul would hear it from Betsy’s mouth. Besides, everyone would know about the engagement soon enough, Betsy decided, confident it would make front page headlines in the local newspaper when Stephanie was ready to make it public.

Betsy saw the way Mary shifted her gaze to her. The way she seemed to be examining her, Betsy expected an onslaught of questions. Precisely why she picked up her purse and clipboard and started for the door.

“I have to do that appraisal at the corner of Saint Paul Street. Then I have several showings. I doubt I’ll be back before you leave at five,” Betsy rattled off before pulling the front door closed behind her.

Betsy never made it back to the office at all. She got tied up with her last house showing until almost eight. A quick stop at the fast food drive-thru and she headed home.

She knew it was hazardous to eat and drive. But she hadn’t eaten all day, so couldn’t resist the steaming aroma floating up from the seat next to her where she’d placed the take-out bag.

She gobbled down the last bite of her sandwich as she walked in the door. She saw nothing of importance as she flipped through her mail and tossed the envelopes to the coffee table on her way to the bedroom.

I’ll just stretch out on the bed for a couple of minutes, she told herself. Just long enough to recharge my batteries so I can shower and maybe catch up on my reading….

The pleasant sound of birds singing reached into her subconscious and dragged her into semi-consciousness. With a smile on her face, she rolled to her back, moaning pleasurably as she stretched her arms in front of her. She blinked several times before finally focusing straight ahead. The smile disappeared.

It took a few seconds for Betsy to comprehend where she was or what day it was. She slowly lowered her eyes and saw she was still wearing her lucky dress. It wasn’t until she glanced over at the digital clock on the night stand that she realized what she’d done.

“Eight o’clock!” she shrieked and shot out of bed and into the adjoining bathroom.

She showered, brushed her teeth and combed her hair. No time to dry it or apply makeup, except for a quick swipe across her lips with lipstick. When she opened her closet door the real panic set in. The only thing hanging was the royal blue short sleeved sweater dress she hadn’t worn since last fall. And for no other reason than she thought it jinxed. Anything that could go wrong that last day she wore it had.

“To hell with superstition.” She yanked it off the hanger and pulled it over her head.

She didn’t have time to root through the dryer for something else. She had promised the young couple she showed the Miller house the night before she’d be at her office promptly by eight-thirty to type up the offer they wanted her to present to the seller today.

Barely a minute late Betsy still found a pair of disgruntled customers waiting on the office doorstep. Typing up the sales agreement and going over it with the pair was anything but a treat either. If this was an indication of how the day ahead would be, the dress was indeed jinxed and would be tossed instead of laundered.

It was after ten before she concluded business with the difficult pair. Next up she went over the day’s schedule with Mary. Then she placed the call. Hopefully, the beauty queen would be up and willing to see her at ten-thirty. The only spare hour Betsy saw all day after a quick glance at her appointment book.

* * *

A giddy sort of sick feeling washed over Betsy when she stepped up to the front door of the corner Victorian about to ring the doorbell. As her finger poked the gold button the door swung open.

“Betsy dear, come in.” Stephanie smiled that brilliant way she did to reveal those perfect front teeth.

There was no doubt in Betsy’s mind that with her looks she could make any man’s mouth water. Especially if she greeted all her callers dressed in the revealing black negligee she was wearing now. And Skylar Blakewood certainly was no exception. But Betsy still couldn’t understand why he planned to marry her. She thought him intelligent enough to see through her. So why hadn’t he? The woman was cunning, she’d give her that much. But Betsy never figured Skylar to fall for someone so manipulative and self-centered.

For as long as Betsy had known Stephanie, which was too long, she always had to have things her way. No matter who got trampled on along the way.

“This shouldn’t take long,” Betsy mentioned as she followed Stephanie’s lead to the large eat-in kitchen.

Betsy watched her gather two cups and saucers from one of the cherry cupboards that wound around the room. She filled each cup with coffee, while Betsy opened her briefcase on the table and pulled out a partially completed listing agreement.

As Stephanie placed their drinks on the table Betsy couldn’t help but notice her twisted smile.

“I hope you can keep a secret, Betsy, because I’m absolutely going to burst if I don’t tell somebody.”

“You already told me about your engagement,” Betsy reminded drearily and pulled out a chair and sat.

Stephanie slithered into the chair next to her, beaming. ”This is something even better than that.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Skylar has agreed to resign his position on the bank board. Isn’t that wonderful of him? Actually, with everything he has going right now, he’s just too busy to devote the necessary time required anyway.”

Betsy watched her take time out to flick a curl off her shoulder.

“Of course none of this will be official until the start of the New Year.”

“And this is good news?”

“It’s exactly what I’ve been waiting for.” Stephanie took a breather, eyeing Betsy. “You look confused.”

“I’m a little lost. I thought you’d like the prestige of Skylar’s board position.”

“Why should his standing in the community be more important than mine? But you are sort of right. I do like it known that I’m associated with the important people.”

Betsy wanted to throw up. “Is there a point to all this, Steph?”

“Of course. You were aware it’s a rule the board not allow family members to hold a position on the board at the same time, weren’t you?”

“I didn’t know that.”

“So there you have it, my girl.” Betsy knew if she made reference to her as a girl one more time she’d slug her one. For now, she left her get away with it so she could finish giving her wonderful news. “With Skylar’s resignation, the board has agreed to give one of the two vacant seats to me. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“I suppose if it means that much to you.”

“I would think to you too. And all the other women who have taken a back seat to a man in the business world. I mean I’m the first female board member in the history of that bank.” Stephanie stiffened and held her head proud. “You should be very grateful and proud of my accomplishment.”

Betsy inhaled deeply and felt some of her hostility toward the woman dissolve. Maybe she’d been judging her too harshly. Maybe Stephanie was capable of doing a good deed for others. But Betsy still had this nagging feeling that acquiring that board position had nothing to do with scoring another victory for women in the business world. Stephanie Rogers had her own selfish motive.

“Congratulations. Now can we get on with the signing of this contract?”

Betsy quickly wrapped up her business with Stephanie and was happy to be heading back to the office, even though she was plagued with thoughts of Skylar. But anything was better than listening to more of Stephanie’s boasting.

“She must have you twisted around her little finger,” Betsy was thinking out loud. Well, you’re certainly not the head strong man I thought you were Skylar Blakewood. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be resigning the position you worked hard to earn on the board to accommodate that woman.

Betsy headed into the office with the full intention of spending the next several minutes reviewing the contract she planned to present to one of her clients. The man had a sharp mind and she wanted to be certain when he hit her with a question about the legal document that she could come right back with an answer for him.

“How come you’re so frazzled when I’m the one that just had to face Steph?” Betsy quizzed Mary almost the instant she stepped inside and got a look at her partner banging shut drawers on a filing cabinet.

“You were right. Skylar Blakewood is an arrogant, self-centered, egotistical--”

“I’m almost afraid to ask what happened.” Betsy eased into a chair in front of Mary’s desk.

Mary slammed another drawer and flopped down at her desk with a disgusted grunt. “The man is impossible. I told him you had a full schedule today. But that didn’t seem to faze him. He demanded that you be in his office within the hour.”

“Oh he did, huh?”

“If you’re not, he’s releasing you of your contract obligations. He’s firing us.”

Betsy jumped to her feet. “We’ll see about that.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll be in his office within the hour all right. And it won’t be because he demanded it. He can start looking for another agency to represent him because we’re firing him.”

Chapter Eight

“You can’t go in there without being announced first,” shrieked the receptionist, jumping up from her desk.

Betsy didn’t break her stride as she charged toward the closed door to Skylar’s office.

“Mr. Blakewood--”

Before the panicky young woman had a chance to finish, Betsy barged inside. Her fierce stride was brought to an instant halt the second she saw him.

“I tried to stop her,” insisted the blushing blond as she came to a stop next to Betsy.

“It’s okay, Crystal. Obviously Miss Alexander needed to see me immediately.” Betsy returned his sharp gaze, determined to stare him down. She was successful when Skylar looked to his receptionist. “You can return to your desk, Crystal. And please close the door on your way out.”

Betsy’s heart pounded feverishly. Her pulse raced while breathing became difficult for her. Extremely so when she heard Crystal shut the door. They were alone. And for some reason Betsy was terrified of that fact.

“I know I told your partner I had to see you, but I really didn’t expect you quite this fast.”

Betsy started to tremble but knew it had nothing to do with fear. Her anger had returned when he began grinning like he had succeeded in getting her to jump at his command.

“You can wipe that smug grin off your face. I came to tell you to take your business elsewhere. The Alexander and Gold Agency is no longer representing you.” The words came so fast Betsy felt dizzy. But that didn’t stop her from turning on her heels to head for the door.

“Then I’ll pick you up at six for dinner.”

If his words were intended to stop her, it worked. Betsy took a deep breath and silently counted to ten before turning back to him. “I beg your pardon?”

The smug grin returned. Maybe it never left. In any event, the very next second it was gone and he looked serious as he leaned forward in his seat. At first, his eyes avoided hers when he spoke. “I need you, Betsy.” His eyes found hers and Betsy began to melt. God how she wanted to rush over to him and feel those strong arms around her. Feel the touch of his lips on hers. “If we’re no longer doing business, I’d very much like to start dating you,” he explained.

Betsy was a second away from following her heart’s lead that had jumped toward him. Go ahead and let down your guard again. I don’t have to remind you what it will lead to. Miss Sensible had returned just in the nick of time. And Betsy immediately willed herself to fight the powerful sensations invading her.

“If you were rude to Mary because you thought I’d react as I have so we could have an affair, you were wrong.”

“I will apologize to her. And I didn’t mean to be so--”

“Demanding?”

“Perhaps. But I did have something of vital importance to discuss with you. And it pertained to business.”

“Well what is it?”

“Does this mean you’re back on the job?”

Silence.

He was clever, she’d give him that. Being able to think on her toes, Betsy believed was a contributing factor in her answer. “If you’re serious about apologizing to Mary--”

“I said I would.” He paused. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll bring you up-to-date.”

Betsy hesitated only to reinforce her earlier decision to follow her head instead of her heart in this man’s presence. Even as she sat, she promised herself she wouldn’t be enticed by the scent of his cologne that had been swirling about the room ever since she entered.

“Fire away.”

Her choice of words brought a smile to his face. Then he cleared his throat and got down to the business at hand. “The supervisors called a special meeting last night. Along with the planning committee they decided to reject my proposed plan to develop the fifty acres.”

“You can’t be serious?” gasped Betsy in disbelief.

“I had trouble believing it at first, too. And I’m almost ashamed to say I did a lot of shouting about it.”

“So now what?”

“Now that I don’t get a variance to change the zoning from agriculture to residential, I sell it as one piece.”

“I don’t know if I want to hear the price we’re talking.” Betsy was already certain the price tag would exceed any of her present buyers price range.

Skylar used his fingers to comb threw his dark hair. “I know it’s going to create a problem, but anything under a quarter of a million and I take a loss. Of course, I could scale down the finishing work. Possibly eliminate the pool--”

“We both know you won’t cut corners,” Betsy insisted.

Skylar’s eyes steadied on hers. “Can you get me three hundred?”

Betsy took a deep breath to replenish her lungs with a new supply of air. “That’s a lot of money. But then, we do have a lot of professional people moving into the area willing to pay top dollar for quality work.”

“Can you get me my price?”

Betsy desperately wanted to. And she knew it wasn’t because of the handsome commission she’d earn, more because that’s what the man needed without taking a loss. “What are your buyers’ comments about the house so far? I mean, you have mentioned it to some, haven’t you?” Skylar wrinkled his tanned brow. His eyes narrowed. Obviously the man was puzzled when he said, “You haven’t?”

Betsy wasn’t sure herself why she hadn’t. Now when she thought about it, she remembered a man stopping by the office the other day to inquire about any available new homes for sale in the country. Price didn’t seem an issue. But he was adamant on new and country. Not once had she mentioned Skylar’s house during the conversation.

“You know, I’d hate to see you lose out on your commission, but before I’ll take a loss, I’ll keep the house for myself.”

“Yourself?” Betsy was surprised.

Before he could respond, Betsy remembered it wouldn’t be just for him, but for his new bride as well. Somehow it didn’t really bother her if Skylar kept the house for himself. But the thought of Stephanie living there with him was a different matter. After all, that hill had almost belonged to her. And knowing it might soon be Stephanie’s was more than Betsy could deal with right now.

She shot to her feet. “I’ll get your price,” she professed firmly.

“Good luck.”

Betsy had a feeling it would take more than luck to succeed. But she vowed she would and made her exit as swiftly as she had burst inside.

The instant she slid into her car and began driving, she remembered she was supposed to be meeting a client in her office several minutes ago. And yet, she wasn’t driving in the direction of her office. She was turning onto the country road that had become her favorite months ago.

When she pulled off to the side of the road at the foot of that grand hill, her eyes immediately searched out the peak. Oddly enough, the towering white masterpiece hanging down from heaven begun to resemble her dream house. Or perhaps, she was so awed by its beauty that she couldn’t remember the original design of the house she had fantasized about for so long.

In any event, admiring the place was a mistake. Next, she’d be falling in love with it like she had its present owner. And if that were to happen, selling it would mean trying to deal with another emotional trauma she feared she was not strong enough to cope with at present.

Betsy had no idea what kind of mood she’d find Mary in when she arrived at the office. To her relief, she was all smiles.

Mary glanced from the computer monitor to Betsy. “You didn’t have to rush back. Mr. Wayne is already taken care of.”

“He signed the agreement?” Betsy’s voice reflected her skepticism.

“Sure did. He read it from beginning to end and signed without a single question.”

Betsy eased into a chair and pulled the hem of her sweater dress over the right knee she had crossed over the left. She knew she was stalling. But there was no way of avoiding what she had to do.

“Mary, we’re still representing Skylar.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“I got off the phone with him right before you came in.”

Betsy was temporarily speechless. Then, even though she felt confident of the answer, she asked anyway. “Did he apologize?”

Mary sighed as she smiled. “Did he ever.”

Betsy looked across the desk at her starry-eyed partner and didn’t want to hear what he’d said to make Mary look that way. But she sensed he must’ve used that deep seductive tone of his. The one Betsy had found irresistible. Well not anymore.

For Pete’s sake, the man was engaged to be married. Had he no morals? Of course not, Betsy answered her own question. If he had, he wouldn’t have invited her to dinner, expecting God only knew what afterward. Seducing Mary over the phone was almost as bad. Betsy wondered if Stephanie knew what she was getting. It didn’t matter, Betsy decided. The two of them deserved each other.

The wealthiest pair of unscrupulous sneaks in town, Betsy snickered at the thought to keep from crying.

“What’s so funny?” Mary asked.

Betsy had to think fast and came back with, “The outrageous price tag on the place now.”

“I don’t know why you think that’s funny. Skylar told me you said you’d get his price.”

Betsy stiffened as she stood. “And just maybe I will.” With that, she stomped up to her own office.

She flopped down behind her desk, frustrated, angry with herself for making such a statement. She stewed for several minutes, then remembered.

Yanking open desk drawers and rooting through the papers she had shoved in one of them the day she cleared her desk top, she finally pulled out the piece she was looking for. The sheet of paper that listed the names and telephone numbers of her A buyers. Her serious buyers who wanted to purchase immediately.

She quickly scanned the list of names. Her hand was already on the phone when she spotted the doctor’s name.

After the third ring, Betsy answered the greeting. “Doctor Coleman, this is Betsy Alexander from the Alexander and Gold Agency…. Yes, I think I have found you a house… Oh it’s brand new and in the country…. Six o’clock would be fine….I’ll meet you here at the office.”

When Betsy replaced the receiver back in its cradle, she knew she should feel excited. But what she felt was a sense of loss. And it almost felt as bad as having her heart broken.

She kept herself busy the remainder of the afternoon. She spent an hour at the bank on a settlement. Then there were house showings. She had even managed to wolf down a turkey sandwich she picked up at the mini-market on her way back to the office where she stood waiting at the door for Doctor Coleman.

At six o’clock on the dot she saw him stepping out of his luxury car across the street. There was no point in him traipsing into the office. Might as well get it over with, Betsy told herself and went out the door locking it behind her.

She didn’t question his decision to follow her in his own car instead of riding with her. She kept her speed down as she led the way to Skylar’s house even when her desire to get the showing over with grew more intense with each mile she traveled.

It was a relief not seeing old Betsy parked on the hilltop as Betsy pulled in near the front entrance to the house, which she instantly noticed was still minus a front door.

“The view is magnificent,” gasped the young doctor after stepping out of his car and slowly turning in a complete circle to take in the sight.

“I’ve seen better,” quipped Betsy as she headed inside.

“Well I haven’t. It’s exactly what I’m looking for.”

Betsy didn’t respond. She was still trying to figure out the one she gave to his first comment as she began walking him through the unfinished interior.

“As you can see, there’s a lot of work to be done yet. And did I mention the price is three hundred thousand? Pretty steep wouldn’t you say?” she inquired with arched eyebrows as she studied him from across the living room.

A cozy room in which she envisioned herself curled up on the sofa in front of the fireplace on a cold winter night.

“Like I told you, Miss Alexander, price is no object.”

“Okay. But it is quite a drive to your office from here.”

The man slid his hands into his trouser pockets and gave Betsy and inquisitive look. “I believe you’re trying to talk me out of purchasing this property.”

“Now why would I do that?” Is what she said, though that’s exactly what she was doing and didn’t understand why.

“My wife is out of town for a few weeks. If the house is still available, I know she’ll want to see it the minute she returns.”

“Of course. And hopefully more of the work will be completed by then, too.”

“I’d like to be in by Christmas.”

“I’m not sure that’s realistic,” Betsy told him, knowing perfectly well Christmas would be perfect.

Long after the doctor had gone, Betsy continued milling around inside the unfinished house, placing her furniture. Thinking she’d need to purchase several more pieces if she were to fill all the rooms.

At some point, she realized what she was doing, dreaming the impossible. She couldn’t afford the house. But the doctor could. On top of that, he wanted to make the purchase by Christmas. The news would be music to Skylar’s ears.

Okay, the opportunity to prove she could sell the house at the asking price and do it before the end of the year would give her reason to celebrate. After all, she’d be proving to both Skylar and Mary she could do the impossible.

But Betsy had no intention of celebrating now or after the completion of the sale.

She drove home in a state of depression when she should have been singing to the catchy tune playing on the radio.

Maybe if I’d find another piece of land? Maybe then, after giving my plan direction again, selling Skylar’s house would be cause for celebration, Betsy contemplated.

At least if the doctor bought the house she wouldn’t have to deal with Stephanie moving into it. Betsy couldn’t see that woman content with the serenity of country living anyway. She doubted she’d even notice the breathtaking views from nearly every window in the house.

There had to be another hilltop like this one. But for the life of Betsy, she hadn’t the slightest idea where as she started down the hillside.

The next several weeks came and went like a whirlwind. The real estate business continued to boom like never before and Betsy tried not to think about the bottom falling out in the near future. Besides, there was no indication her worse fear would hit any time soon.

So why then did she have this eerie feeling something bad was about to happen? She tried to shrug it off as she went in her office and plopped down behind her desk.

It had been a long morning. And the afternoon ahead looked even longer, Betsy saw as she scanned the page in her appointment book for this October day.

The telephone began ringing off the hook before Betsy remembered Mary had gone to lunch and she was covering the office.

“Good afternoon, The Alexander and Gold Real estate Agency. Betsy speaking…. Doctor Coleman!”

Betsy’s premonition that something terrible was about to happen had been accurate. She listened to the excitement in his voice and began to panic. But she couldn’t lie to him when he asked if Skylar’s house was still available.

“Yes…. That’s impossible. I’m booked solid for the next several days,” she told him when he asked if his wife could see the house this afternoon.

Betsy wasn’t being dishonest. But if his wife wanted to see any other house besides Skylar’s, she’d work her into her tight schedule.

When he mentioned he’d settle for one of Betsy’s sales staff doing the showing, Betsy almost forgot herself and laughed out loud. Instead of giving him some line about her sales force being swamped as well, she was more than happy to give him the truth.

“I’m the only sales force at this agency. So your wife is just going to have to wait.”

“Well we’ll see about that,” vibrated against Betsy’s eardrum. The bang came next when he slammed down the receiver.

Betsy took a deep breath. When she exhaled, a giggle slipped out. “We’ll see about that,” she mocked him as she focused on the sales agreement she had in front of her.

She’d become totally absorbed in completing the contract after several telephone interruptions. Then there had been a customer who walked in off the street to inquire about a duplex the agency had listed. She was finally finishing filling out the contract when she heard the front door open.

Betsy didn’t bother jumping up to see who entered the building. She assumed it was Mary returning from lunch. But within seconds Betsy saw and heard it wasn’t Mary.

“And this is what you call being booked solid?” Skylar’s voice boomed from the doorway.

Betsy felt a cold chill shuttle up her spine at the sound of his voice. But when she peered up and saw him in the doorway, his hands pressed against the top of the frame, warmth filled her. But she couldn’t let him know what seeing him was doing to her, even when she was willing the rock-like shield to surround her.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Doctor Coleman called me,” he said. Only now, his tone was just above that husky whisper Betsy found irresistible.

Betsy was unable to meet his sharp gaze for fear she’d begin to melt. As she looked blankly at the contract on her desk, she said a firm, “I see.”

“I don’t think you do,” Skylar growled, his tone louder. “The doctor seems to be chomping at the bit to sign on the dotted line to seal the deal on my house.”

“Perhaps. But that’s not saying his wife shares his eagerness.”

“And we wouldn’t know that until she has a chance to see it, which she will be doing shortly.”

“What?” Betsy blurted, alarmed.

“If you are too busy to do your job then I guess I’ll have to do it for you.” Skylar’s tone was bitingly critical.

“I am extremely busy. But I was planning to show her your house.”

“When? You know if I wanted to I could save myself a fat commission and sell the house to the doctor myself.”

His words set a fire of anger inside Betsy. It wouldn’t surprise her if he tried to pull something like that. He probably got the idea from Stephanie, who had attempted to do the same.

Instead of exploding with rage as she felt like doing, Betsy was determined to be professional.

“Need I remind you that you signed a binding agreement with this agency? Even if you choose to sell the house on your own, you will still owe the agency the commission agreed upon.”

Skylar had stepped up to her desk. His front teeth clamped together as he growled. “Need I remind you I can have that contract voided for non-performance on your part?”

Betsy inhaled deeply to quiet her anger and at the same time got wind of his cologne. She fought hard to keep from becoming intoxicated from the scent, or from the warmth as his breath touched her.

Stop it, she told herself. You must respond to him. Not physically as she was, but verbally.

“How do you know I don’t have another interested party in your house?”

Dead silence the few seconds before he spoke. “Well if you do, I better have a full priced offer in writing on my desk by noon tomorrow.”

Betsy watched him turn that tall bulky frame of his around and start for the doorway. He hesitated, then looked back at her long enough to give another warning. “Otherwise, it becomes the doctor’s, and you’re out the twenty-one grand in commission, Miss Betsy Alexander.”

Betsy was unable to swallow back the lump of anger that had formed in her throat. And because she was unable to scream at him, she picked up the telephone book, the heaviest unattached item on her desk and winged it into the doorway Skylar had exited through.

A few seconds later Mary appeared in the doorway. “Is it safe to come in?”

Betsy heaved an angry sigh. “I don’t know how much you heard--”

“Most of it,” Mary confessed as she entered Betsy’s office. “You do have another buyer, don’t you?”

“I said I might,” Betsy offered. But that is where it ended. “Now that you’re back, I have an appraisal to do,” she said and left, leaving Mary standing stupefied.

Betsy zipped through her afternoon appointments. But her mind was not on her work. Skylar, his house, and that warning he had finalized his visit with, was at the forefront of her thoughts continually.

Perhaps this was the reason she was driving on the country road that brought her to the base of that special hilltop.

Betsy coasted to a stop where she had so many times before on her motorcycle. And as her eyes found that magical peak, she heard a voice from within whisper. “This is it, Betsy. That round cloud of white that reached up and touched heaven is your dream house.”

“Yes,” Betsy answered with a smile. “It is exactly what I’ve always been dreaming about.”

She remained behind the steering wheel of her sports car staring at her future home for several minutes. During that time, not once would she permit negative thoughts. She would somehow convince the bank to loan her the money.

After all, with business booming again, she was earning enough to make that enormous mortgage payment. But just in case the bank balked, she was willing to sell her Harley and car to eliminate those monthly payments. She’d even give up her steady diet of fast food and sandwiches and survive on bread and water. She had to have that house and refused to lose it to the doctor or anybody else.

She fired up the engine and pulled back onto the road. She did not head for home. Her next stop was parking across the street from her darkened office building.

She unlocked the front door and slipped inside making sure to lock the door behind her. Instead of wasting time booting up the computer alongside Mary’s desk and searching for the right forms, she hurried up to her own office and pulled a blank agreement of sale from her top desk drawer, rolled it into her ancient typewriter and began pecking away at the keys. She filled in name and address of seller and buyer, location of the property that would be transferred.

It was when Betsy began typing in the purchase price she was agreeing to pay that she hesitated. Instead of offering the full asking price, she added one dollar to her three hundred thousand offer.

“A little added security,” she said to herself and snickered.

She firmly believed if the doctor had already told Skylar he’d pay full price, Skylar would find the extra dollar she was offering an amusing gesture, hopefully enough to make him accept.

Sure, it was risky, but so had been starting a business that was never predictable. Just like letting down her guard around a man had been. And even though she had gotten burned, vowing never to let it happen again, she had felt what it was like to fall in love, an experience she believed would always be a part of her.

She put her signature to the contract and slipped it into a legal-sized envelope.

“You’ll have your full price offer in writing before noon tomorrow,” chanted Betsy as she picked up the envelope and carried it with her to her car.

It was dark outside when Betsy started for home. The thought of personally delivering the contract to Skylar at his home crossed her mind. But she decided against doing so thinking he was probably out somewhere entertaining Stephanie. What she refused to consider was showing up on his doorstep and finding him home alone.

Betsy was up at the crack of dawn. The truth is she never went to bed. First, she gave her apartment a thorough cleaning. The laundry finally got finished. Then, she tackled the stack of reading she had with the hope of it winding her down so she could sleep. No chance of that though.

After she showered and dressed she took a moment to admire herself in the floor length mirror attached to the back of her closet door.

The black heels added three inches to her height, making her shapely taupe colored nylon legs look longer. The snug fitting black sleeveless dress accentuated her curves. It was the gold half sleeved jacket that gave energy to the otherwise plain outfit.

She had taken a few extra minutes to style her hair and it showed. There was more fullness to the short waves on the top. A few strands of bangs dripped over her arched brows, which Betsy felt gave sex appeal. She even went to the trouble of using a dash of blush and eye shadow with the mascara and lipstick she normally wore.

Betsy winked at her reflection and was off, remembering to pick up the legal-sized envelope she had dropped on the coffee table when she came in last night.

There wasn’t a trace of fear anywhere near her when she pulled away from the house and headed toward the most pressing business of the day. But when she turned off the country road onto the private one that went up the hillside, the panic set in.

She flipped off the heater she had needed when she first started out, because right now she was beginning to perspire.

“You have to pull yourself together,” she ordered herself.

A difficult task now that she had spotted old Betsy sandwiched between two larger trucks on the hilltop. The one she recognized as Charlie Webbers, Skylar’s foreman. Apparently another member of the work crew owned the other.

Betsy knew Skylar had given her until noon to have the full priced offer in writing and in his office. But she couldn’t wait until then. And she somehow knew she’d find Skylar working on the house by daybreak. Right now, as she shut down the engine, she wished she had assumed wrong.

Trembling fingers picked up the envelope from the passenger seat. She stepped out of the car and straightened her dress taking a deep breath as she shoved back her shoulders before heading through the front doorway, still minus a door. But Betsy was too busy willing her nerves not to tighten to notice.

She heard voices and hammering coming from the rear of the house and followed them. Her heels clicking as she walked across the hard wood floor. She froze in the doorway to the kitchen.

The sudden silence sent a chill through her. Then the heat. A powerful burst rocketing through her when she noticed at least six pair of eyes on her.

It took her a full minute before her eyes met with his. Out of all the stares her eyes had briefly met as they glanced around the room, his didn’t appear to be undressing her. Instead, they seemed to be demanding an answer for the interruption she had created in his crew’s work.

Well you don’t have to worry, Skylar Blakewood, I’m not staying, she was thinking.

Anger had replaced her fear and she took a few sturdy steps inside. She slammed the envelope down on the dusty countertop and looked directly up into Skylar’s big blue eyes.

“I’d appreciate a response by the end of the day.”

She wheeled around and left without giving him the opportunity to utter a single word.

Chapter Nine

Somehow, but darned if Betsy knew how, she had arrived safely at her office. She even remembered to lock the door behind her when she came in. With what she planned to do next, she didn’t need any interruptions from pedestrians wandering in off the street.

She had an hour and a half before Mary was due in. Hopefully by then, she’d be finished at her desk where she had taken root. She had to open and shut one file cabinet drawer after another before she found the set of books she was looking for.

“This is going to be easier than I thought,” she commented after opening the ledger.

She poured over the figures in the credit and debit columns. She began smiling, pleased from what she saw.

“We’re in better shape than I imagined.”

Again, she began searching filing cabinet drawers. This time looking for lined paper to copy the figures onto. Once she found the paper she put together a profit and loss statement. A necessity when she approached the loan officer at the bank, which she planned to do as soon as Mary arrived.

Once she finished, she kicked back in her seat. Her thoughts drifted off in another direction.

She wondered if Skylar had looked at the contract yet. Of course he had, she told herself. What went through his mind after reading it was a puzzler though.

As of two months ago, Skylar seemed well versed on the financial ailments of the agency. Of course, as a bank board member, he was privy to the confidential information. But right now, he couldn’t possibly know how well the agency had recovered.

He might have noticed all the sold signs on the houses listed with the agency. And he might have inquired into the deposits made to the private account at the bank. But he didn’t know about the second account Betsy had at another out of town bank. The one into which she had socked away a sizeable chunk of cash over the last two months.

It was almost enough for the down payment she needed to purchase his house. She’d use her share of the commission on the sale to cover the difference.

“Don’t be too confident,” the almost forgotten Miss Sensible had returned to remind.

But Betsy didn’t want the pessimistic side of herself to get a strong hold on her. Of course, if it did, she’d be thinking about how unrealistic she was being to consider the bank would automatically give her the mortgage loan based on two months worth of income. She knew better. There wasn’t a lender she knew that didn’t want to see a two year history of a self-employed person’s income and expenses. And the agency had been in business just a little over a year. Most of that time running in the red.

Yet, Betsy was determined to give it a try. She had to. The contract she put her signature to and delivered to Skylar said so in a section of the fine print.

“Gee, maybe I should check for a fever or something,” Mary commented with a smile when she came in and saw Betsy at her desk.

Betsy stood and began gathering up her things. “I’m not sick. I just had something important to take care of.”

“Must’ve been real important to get you in here before nine.”

Betsy knew Mary was probing for an answer. But she was going about it in a round about way. She didn’t want to take the time to explain just now. The bank was about to open. And Betsy wanted to be one of its first customers of the day. But she didn’t feel comfortable keeping Mary in the dark.

“I needed to work up a profit and loss statement.”

Mary’s eyes instantly widened with panic. “Is something wrong?”

“No. It’s for personal reasons. And I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.”

“Back from where?” Mary questioned in a rush since Betsy was already starting out the door.

Betsy hesitated. “I’ll be at the bank if you need me for something.”

Even though she felt an oncoming but from Mary, Betsy went out the door before she got out the word.

Betsy used the few minutes it took to walk to the bank to rehearse what she would say. She knew if she appeared as nervous as she felt she might as well kiss any chance of getting the loan goodbye. She had to show confidence.

Before plowing inside the two story building, she took a moment on the front door step. A few deep, very deep breaths followed by a silent pep talk to herself and she was ready.

“Morning, Cindy,” she greeted the bank teller at the first window.

“Is it Friday already, Betsy?” the perky young woman asked.

“No. I’m here to see a loan officer. Is there one available? Preferably Helen.”

“I think she’s in her office. Go on back.”

“Thanks, Cindy,” Betsy said and smiled. Only there was a nervous twitch in the way her mouth had widened.

Instead of marching onward to the rear of the bank where Helen Swanson’s small office was located, Betsy hesitated.

“Something else I can help you with, Betsy?” Cindy asked.

“No,” Betsy told her and somehow got her feet moving.

She stopped outside the opened doorway of the dreary office. She peered inside at the older woman who had become a widow a few years ago. A pleasant and intelligent woman who’d worked hard to earn her promotion from head teller to loan officer.

Maybe I should have asked to see Mark? Betsy was beginning to contemplate. The man hit on her every chance he got. She felt confident she could sweet talk him into going to bat for her at the board meeting.

On second thought, it was Helen who had the most experience dealing with the board members. After all, she’d convinced them that promoting her was in their best interest.

Betsy watched Helen put down the telephone and look her way.

“Come on in, Betsy,” she offered.

Betsy entered, noting Helen hadn’t flashed her usual smile when she went on to shuffle papers on her desk before sitting them aside. Then she clasped her hands together and gave Betsy, who had eased into the chair across the desk from her, her undivided attention.

“I’m glad you could come in on such short notice,” she began, thoroughly confusing Betsy. “I believe it is Mr. Shultz that will be doing the interview though.”

“Interview?”

“Someone from the bank did call you to come in, didn’t they?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

Helen twisted her cracked lips to one side. “You’re not here about the vacancy on the board then?”

Betsy grinned. “I’m here to apply for a mortgage loan. But now you have me curious.”

Helen smiled, but Betsy saw her blush with embarrassment. “I guess if I’m going to spill the beans I might as well go all the way.”

“Please do,” Betsy encouraged, growing eager and impatient to know exactly what was going on.

“Were you aware there was a vacancy?”

Betsy nodded. “Yes.”

“Seems a second one is coming available at the end of the year.”

“Skylar Blakewood’s.”

Helen’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “How did you know that?”

“A little bird told me,” Betsy said and winked.

“Then you probably also know Mr. Blakewood's reason for resigning. His workload is keeping him much too busy to adequately fulfill his responsibilities as a board member.”

Betsy had heard the same from Stephanie. Though she’d thought it wasn’t his heavy workload that was forcing him to resign his position. She firmly believed it was to appease his soon-to-be bride. She kept that thought to herself and allowed Helen to continue.

“He has recommended you as his replacement, Betsy.”

“What?”

“Mr. Blakewood has asked the board to appoint you as his replacement.”

Even when Helen repeated herself it still hadn’t fully sunk in. “Why me?”

Helen sighed with a shrug of her bony shoulders. “You’ll have to take that up with Mr. Blakewood.”

“Well I certainly will.”

“Anyway, as President of the bank, Mr. Shultz was asked to approach you on the matter and give a report to the board at their next meeting, which in fact, is tonight.”

“I don’t know what to say. Other than I’m stunned, interested--definitely interested.”

“You would be the first female board member in the history of this bank, you know?”

Betsy couldn’t think straight, but she hadn’t forgotten her last encounter with Stephanie. “But I thought Stephanie Rogers was to be the first?”

Helen kicked back in her seat with a low chuckle. “So that’s the little bird you were referring to.”

“Well she did mention--” Betsy stopped herself short after realizing she was about to defend the woman.

“The relationship between Miss Rogers and Mr. Blakewood has presented a problem. But once Mr. Blakewood’s resignation goes into effect, Miss Rogers will be appointed.”

“I see.” All too clearly, Betsy kept to herself. The excitement that had begun filling her vanished when Helen reminded her of the relationship between those two.

“Actually, you would be filling the present vacancy. Miss Rogers will have to wait until after the New Year. Technically, it will be Mr. Blakewood’s position she will be filling.” She arched penciled eyebrows. “But certainly not by his recommendation.”

Confusion filled Betsy.

“Now,” Helen stated, “you said something about applying for a mortgage loan?”

* * *

Without realizing it, Betsy had walked several blocks to the park at the edge of town. She sat down on the bench that was closest to the river.

It was very difficult to concentrate when the noise of vehicles crossing the nearby bridge plagued the area. Even if she were able to concentrate, she didn’t know which subject would come first. She was more than thoroughly confused and felt lost.

Why had Skylar recommended her to fill one of the two vacancies on the bank board? Then there was that comment of Helen’s once she’d taken down the information on the mortgage application. “I don’t see a problem as long as you have Mr. Blakewood in your corner,” she’d told Betsy.

What was that suppose to mean? And besides, at this moment, Betsy doubted Skylar would side with her on anything.

She bent over and picked up a twig near her foot and heaved it into the river as she stood. She watched the one end of it dip beneath the cloudy water as the current began carrying it away.

Perhaps like the twig, Betsy considered flowing with the chain of events taking place in her life. What would be wrong with accepting the bank’s offer? And if they granted her a mortgage loan without an ounce of hassle, why spoil things with questions?

“That’s impossible,” Betsy said out loud and left the park.

Betsy Alexander never had been much of a bystander when something was going on. Especially something that affected her personally.

No, I won’t sit back and be still. Skylar Blakewood has a question or two to answer, she decided just before she rounded the corner to go in the front door of her office building.

“You’re never going to believe this--” she started to say to Mary when she went in the door.

Mary shook her head no and pointed toward Betsy’s office to stop her from continuing. Betsy got the message. Someone was waiting in her office to see her.

Betsy leaned over the desk and whispered. “Who is it?”

“Skylar.”

“Just the man I want to see,” declared Betsy in a normal tone. Then she stood tall and marched up the steps.

She stopped in her tracks on the landing. For several seconds she stood speechless. But after seeing him sitting behind her desk, with his feet propped on the edge, she couldn’t figure out if she was mad or amused. Maybe just jolted by seeing him again?

She knew she’d vowed to throw up her rock solid armor around him, but the rock wasn’t as sturdy as she thought. As a matter of fact, it had cracked and all kinds of wondrous sensations were seeping through the crevasses.

Pull yourself together, Miss Sensible began ordering. Millions of guys have soft blue eyes. Yes, but not like Skylar’s, Betsy responded in a moment of weakness when his eyes greeted hers.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming back.” He swung his long legs to the floor and began getting up.

“Well as you can see, I’m here.” Betsy brushed past him on her way around the desk.

The mere touch of his suit jacket against hers sent shivers through her. By the time she was seated, still warm from his presence, she thought she had successfully sealed up the cracks in her armor. Wrong. She had gotten a whiff of him in passing as well, and the scent lingered.

“I was on my way into my own office and thought I’d drop off the contract.”

Betsy looked at him lost. “Contract?”

“The agreement of sale. I put it there on your desk.” A moment of silence while Betsy began pulling it from the envelope she had delivered it to him in earlier. “Don’t worry, I signed it,” he added.

Betsy took his word and let the envelope slide back down on her desk top. A “thank you,” came out because she couldn’t think of anything else to say at that moment.

Then she saw that smug grin of his as he hovered over her from the front of her desk. “The extra dollar above list price was cute. But you can keep it. You’re going to need every dollar you can raise just to make the down payment.”

The sarcasm in his tone instantly riled Betsy. But she was determined to hide her agitation. “The down payment isn’t a problem.”

“Oh? A rich uncle die or something?”

“Sometimes you are--”

“Don’t say it,” Skylar warned.

Silence.

Then, once their eyes held for what seemed like an eternity, Betsy blinked. And out of the blue hit him with a question on another subject. “Why did you recommend me to fill your position on the bank board?”

More silence before the return of that smug grin of his. “I couldn’t allow Stephanie to be the only female member.”

“I see.”

“No. I don’t think you do, Betsy.” His voice had come at her in that husky whisper. And when she looked up into his eyes she saw extreme seriousness. “I can’t resign unless I know you’ll accept the position.”

“Why me?”

He sighed heavily. “Stephanie is accustomed to having her own way.”

“She doesn’t get her own way with me.”

“Precisely my point.”

“Wait a minute,” Betsy beckoned as he turned to leave. But he didn’t. He stopped as asked. When he peered back at her, Betsy proceeded. “I don’t understand.”

“You, Betsy Alexander, are the only woman I know that will buck Stephanie when it’s necessary. She’ll have all the other board members wrapped around her little finger before she attends her first meeting.”

The only thing Betsy could do was watch him continue with his exit.

She had no idea if a minute had passed or an hour when she saw Mary standing in the doorway, a sly grin on her face.

“How much did you hear?” Betsy asked after she stood there too long without speaking.

“Part of it. Were you really asked to be a board member?”

“Sort of. I suspect Shultz will be calling here before the end of the day.”

Mary bubbled with so much excitement that Betsy didn’t see how she had managed to sit down. But she had.

“Well what do I tell him if he calls while you’re out?”

Betsy shrugged. “Tell him I’ll return the call when I come in,” Betsy answered simply.

“So are you going to accept?”

Betsy didn’t answer right away because she didn’t know what it was. Lately, the demands of work left little time for anything else. Like Skylar, she’d be lax in her responsibilities as a member as well. On the other hand, Skylar had made a very good point about Stephanie not being able to get her way in matters where she shouldn’t if Betsy sat on the board.

“I’d be serving with Steph,” she finally mentioned to Mary.

“That reminds me, did you hear she’s getting married?”

The last thing Betsy wanted reminding about was that marriage and grumbled, “I heard.”

“For anybody else a New Year’s Eve wedding would be like ending the year with love. For Stephanie, the date means she’ll be able to file a joint tax return.”

Betsy broke out laughing. When she finally got control of herself, she said, “That’s a good one, Mare. Probably true too.”

“Of course it’s true. I just hope the sucker she’s marrying knows what he’s getting.”

Betsy’s expression slowly grew serious. “What sucker? Skylar’s just as shrewd as Steph.”

“What’s Skylar got to do with it?”

Betsy stared at Mary. She wasn’t any paler than usual. Thinner, but not too thin. Maybe she had been working too hard. No doubt about it, she was long overdue a vacation because something was wrong with her. Why would she know Stephanie was getting married if she didn’t know who to?

“Skylar’s who Steph’s marrying,” Betsy finally answered.

Mary jumped up. “Well that’s not what the paper says. I have it on my desk. I’ll go get it.”

Betsy watched her leave the office. But she really wasn’t seeing her. Her head swam. She was beginning to perspire and tremble. Her condition worsened when Mary bustled back up the stairs with the newspaper.

She plopped it down on the desk under Betsy’s nose. “There it is in black and white,” she declared, pointing to the front page headline.

Betsy snatched up the paper, holding it only inches from her eyes. She read the bold black headline. LOCAL SOCIALITE TO WED.

Before Betsy allowed her gaze to move any further south to the story, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was uncertain what she wanted to see when she located the name of the groom to be.

Her eyelids flickered before opening fully. She scanned the small typed print. First, she searched for Skylar’s name. It was nowhere to be found. Then she found another name where his should’ve been.

Gregory Allen and Stephanie Rogers are planning a New Year’s Eve ceremony…

“Do you think it’s a misprint?” Betsy questioned Mary even though her eyes never left the article.

“What misprint? I’m sure Stephanie wrote the article giving strict instructions nothing be changed.”

“Oh God!”

“What’s wrong?”

Betsy lost her voice. Actually, she didn’t know what to say. What had she done?

“Betsy, what’s wrong?”

She glanced up at Mary, knowing her face must’ve drained to a ghostly shade. “I assumed it was Skylar. He wasn’t using me. It was real, Mare.”

“You mean you and Skylar--”

“Of course not,” insisted Betsy. Then the brief silence. “But we would have,” she confessed as if this was the first time she realized the truth.

“You’re in love with him.”

Betsy could feel tears on their way. She was on the verge of blocking them, her armor in place. But for what? Mary was her best friend. And if she didn’t soon release some of the building pressure she feared she might explode.

Instead of giving Mary an answer with words, she opened the floodgates. By the time Betsy had squeezed out the last gush of tears, Mary had come around the desk and was massaging her shoulders.

“Get it all out.”

Once she had, Betsy began slowly raising her head out of her hands. Still sobbing and sniffling, she dug into her purse for a tissue. Found one, blew her nose, and muttered, “I’m sorry.”

“For what? The day falling in love becomes a crime, I better be in another world.”

Betsy didn’t fight the urge to smile. Actually, she almost felt like laughing when she tilted her head around to see the relieved smile on Mary’s face.

“Thanks friend,” Betsy said, patting Mary’s hand that was draped over her shoulder.

“You’re welcome.”

The two exchanged a special smile of understanding.

“Are you going to be okay?” Mary asked.

“I think so.”

“Hey, I got an idea. Why don’t you take the rest of the day and--”

“No. Right now I need to work.”

Mary started to leave and stopped in the doorway and looked back at Betsy. “Does he know you’re in love with him?”

“No.”

“Tell him.”

Betsy listened, then watched Mary disappear. Once upon a time she had considered what Mary advised, which would’ve been the time to tell him. But now, well how could she possibly tell him now?

Less than a minute later she heard Mary shout warning from her office. “Brace yourself. The bride to be is crossing the street heading this way. She doesn’t look happy.”

For some reason, that fact didn’t bother Betsy in the least. She was rather anxious to see the beauty queen.

“Is she in?” Betsy heard her demand to Mary the second she entered the building.

Betsy surmised Mary pointed toward her office or nodded since she didn’t hear her speak.

“You will not get away with this, Betsy Alexander.”

Betsy arched her brow. “What’s that, Steph?”

“You know damn well what. How dare you consider that seat on the bank board when you knew how much I wanted it?”

Betsy let her rant and rave. When she finished, Betsy spoke. “From what I’ve been told, you still have the appointment you were promised--”

“But that’s not until after the New Year,” Stephanie reminded as she angrily paced back and forth in front of Betsy’s desk.

Betsy leaned back in her seat; a smile played around her mouth. Now she understood what had riled the woman so. And it tickled her pink. “Now I get it. You’re upset because I’ll be the first woman on the board, right?”

Betsy watched her plop down in a chair in the most unladylike fashion.

Stephanie stewed for several seconds. Then, she looked across the desk at Betsy and smiled in a coaxing manner. “Be a good girl, Betsy, and tell them you’re not interested. Okay?”

Betsy saw red when she called her a girl again. “I’ve made up mind, Steph. I’m going to be the first female to sit on that bank board.”

Stephanie’s eyes narrowed as she stood and strutted toward the stairs. She stopped on the top step and craned her neck around before commencing her threat. “You’ll regret this.”

“Don’t think so,” Betsy stated matter-a-factly.

Then she saw Stephanie was about to proceed down the steps. But Betsy couldn’t allow her to leave just yet. “By the way,” she began in a raised voice, “congratulations again on your engagement.”

“Congratulations to you too,” hissed Stephanie, “because you just got yourself uninvited to the wedding.”

Chapter Ten

Betsy’s last two appointments of the day cancelled. Any other day that would not upset her. But today wasn’t a day she wanted spare time on her hands. In fact, she’d be happy if the entire evening was filled with appointments. But it wasn’t.

She didn’t need endless hours to think; to reconsider going to Skylar and explaining--what? That she’d thought he was using her. That she’d get down on her hands and knees if only he’d forgive her. If only they could go back to that morning in the donut shop and let the magic continue from there.

Well my dear, Miss Sensible tuned in; you can swallow your pride and beg forgiveness. Or, you can keep your armor in place and proceed as an independent woman, one that doesn’t need a man running her life. Besides, loving the man openly will only lead to certain heartbreak all over again down the road. It always does.

And just because he’s not the one marrying Stephanie doesn’t mean he was looking for more than a little fling. He never admitted to loving you. Nor had he committed himself to more than a one time roll between the sheets.

Betsy had listened. She even weighed the magical sensations that he’d evoked in her to the pain of her heart being broken. In the end, she decided the pain was too severe. A life threatening risk she wasn’t willing to take.

She left the office and went home hoping to dive into a household project to pass the hours. Needless to say, nothing short of plopping in front of the television sufficed. And that just wouldn’t do. Not when the beautiful fall day beckoned her to come out and enjoy.

When she went outside and hopped on her motorcycle, she knew it was exactly what she wanted to do. She sped in that same direction she most always rode.

As she neared her destination, she felt her nerves tighten. A combination of fear and excitement tugged at her insides. If the bank approved her loan she would’ve kept that first promise she made to herself all those years ago. Both promises fulfilled since she had decided to keep her guard firmly in place around men at all times, especially around Skylar Blakewood. If the bank happened to turn down the loan request-well, she just wouldn’t think about that. She couldn’t.

Betsy caught sight of that magnificent piece of architecture that graced the hilltop. She inhaled deeply, savoring the sight.

Instead of taking the next second to glance at the road to see if she was too close to the edge or center line, her eyes slowly looked down the hillside.

“My God!” she gasped in thrilling disbelief by the sight. But that was a split second before she gave out a scream when she flew over the handlebars.

On impact of hitting the hard ground she did a double somersault before she sprawled out on her back in the tall patch of clover.

The sound of the ground vibrating beneath her sent her scrambling to get up. She didn’t have to see him to know it was the sound of Skylar running to her aide that was causing the earth to move.

He came into view as he charged toward her. His breath was heavy on her as he reached down to help her up.

“Are you all right?” he asked with panic on his face and in his voice.

Betsy felt too embarrassed to look him in the eyes and brushed off her pants when she answered. “I’m fine.

“Did you blow a tire or--”

Betsy finally met his gaze just in time to see the deep concern. “Nothing that drastic. Guess I took my eyes off the road too long and smacked into the bank.”

“Do you do this sort of thing often?” This question had come with an amused grin.

She averted her gaze to the hillside where she’d been looking right before she wrecked. “Only when something so eye-catching grabs my attention.”

Skylar stared at the hillside. “So you were looking at the trees I just finished planting.”

The trees and you, she almost said but instead just nodded in acknowledgment.

“Little buggers, aren’t they? But in ten years I guarantee they’ll be the fullest and prettiest bunch of Christmas trees from here to Timbuktu

Betsy laughed. “I haven’t heard that--” she broke off. Her expression stone-cold-sober.

“You were saying?”

She was about to say she hadn’t heard that saying since her dad said it to her when she was a little girl. One of the occasions he came home after being away for what seemed like an eternity.

Betsy had asked him where he’d been and he told her Timbuktu. Then he chuckled as he scooped her up in his arms and swung her around as if he was the happiest man alive.

But Betsy didn’t want to think about that time in her life any more. If she did, then she’d remember the devastation she felt when he left that last time and never came back from Timbuktu.

“I was saying it’ll be fun to watch the little buggers sprout up.”

Skylar casually placed his arm on her shoulder, his eyes focused on the miniature pine and spruce trees as if he were mesmerized by them. “I’d kind of like to watch them grow too.”

“Yes, well you can drive by daily if you want,” Betsy mentioned as she shrugged off his arm and leaned over to pick up her bike.

A move she had to make. Otherwise, that rock-like protective coating that surrounded her would’ve been full of cracks within seconds from his touch.

“Betsy,” his voice came to her in that familiar husky whisper. “If you can’t get loan approval to purchase the house, I’m taking it off the market.”

She jerked her head around and glared at him as he continued. “There’s nothing I’ve built before that I’m not proud of. But this place has become special. I guess it’s the kind of home I’ve always dreamed of settling down in.”

Betsy was speechless.

“Do you know what I mean? Putting down roots. Marrying--starting a family. This is where it begins.”

One heat wave after another began attacking Betsy. She swallowed and swallowed again to try and combat the sensations.

Finally, she felt safe enough to believe when she attempted to speak the words would come. “But we have a contract.” Okay, her voice had worked. But it lacked the firmness she so desperately felt it needed at this moment.

“I know. And I plan to compensate you. You’ll have the full commission you’re entitled to.”

“Well I couldn’t accept,” she protested, her voice gaining strength. “Besides, I don’t plan on my loan being denied.”

“Did you apply at City Savings?”

“I did.”

“So we’ll know after tonight’s meeting if your loan’s approved.”

“I guess we will,” Betsy agreed, staunchly.

Without further ado, she swung her leg over the seat of her bike with the full intention of leaving.

“On the other hand, we could work out a compromise no matter who winds up with the house,” Skylar stated in one quick breath.

Betsy froze. She had an idea what he was referring to and it pushed her panic buttons.

“If you’re talking about sharing the place--”

“You don’t like the idea?”

“It’s a crazy idea,” she declared and made a run for it while she still had the chance.

It took two attempts before the engine roared on and she steered the bike back onto the road and sped toward home; away from him and the outrageous, yet tempting offer.

She made it home in record time. Safe, in the sanctum of her home. At least for now. And hopefully, long enough to strengthen her weakening armor.

Times like this sure made her want to surrender the fight though. How bad could it be sharing the house with Skylar? That is if the bank were to turn her down. Then, would sharing the same bed be part of the deal Skylar had offered?

“What in the world are you doing?” she demanded of herself out loud.

Perhaps one day she could let down her guard altogether. That is if someone of the opposite sex offered marriage and was sincere about loving her. But sharing a house--a bed, with one without commitment would never do. Even if the man happened to be Skylar Blakewood.

A one-sided love affair wouldn’t work. At least Betsy didn’t think so. In any event, she refused to give it a trial run.

“And that is that.”

She did it again as she plopped on the sofa. She was talking to herself. Maybe she was losing her mind.

The evening ahead was one of the longest, nerve racking ones Betsy could remember. And as the hours dwindled away, trying to sleep was like asking for a miracle.

The entire night she was plagued with this eerie feeling the bank had turned down her loan request.

There was an alternative to the misery she was in. She could call a board member and hope they’d give her an answer. A simple yes or no would do. But then, that would be highly unprofessional.

She’d just have to wait it out until morning and go through the proper channels, which meant putting a call into Helen, the loan officer who had taken her application.

The decision certainly didn’t relieve her of the unsettling sensation tugging at her. Nor did the wonderment of what she’d do if the loan was denied. She wanted to think she’d allow more time for the business to prosper. Then, she’d find another perfect hilltop.

There were occasional feelings of guilt that hit hard. What about Skylar? Had he really fallen in love with the house as he’d more or less professed? If so, could she hurt him like that? Okay, so I’m not made of steel. Because when it came right down to it, Betsy knew no matter what news Helen gave her in the morning, she was not purchasing the house. Skylar could keep it.

Betsy remembered her eyelids getting heavier and heavier. The next thing she remembered was hearing the telephone ringing, rousing her instantly.

She bolted upright and had the receiver in her hand before the second ring.

“Hello,” she answered rushed. In the very next breath she realized the morning sunshine was flooding her bedroom.

“Did I wake you?”

A giddy sensation flooded her with the sound of that husky whisper.

“Skylar…. No, I’m up. Not awake, but on my feet…. An hour…. No, I’ll be there.”

Her sweaty palm continued its death grip on the receiver several seconds after she heard the click on the other end of the line.

An instant later, she hung up and tore into the bathroom to shower. She managed to put on a light coat of makeup in spite of her trembling fingers. She took the time to blow dry and style her hair. And she still had nearly a half hour before she agreed to meet Skylar at the house. But that didn’t leave her standing in front of her closet trying to decide what to put on. Without hesitation, she yanked her lucky dress from its hanger and slipped it on.

Why she decided on that particular dress was a mystery to Betsy. From the sound of Skylar’s troubled voice, she assumed her loan had been approved. But she didn’t feel happy or lucky. She felt an urgency to get to him, to ease the pain from the loss he must be suffering. The instant she gave him her news, told him he could keep his house, she knew his agony would slide away. And that’s all that seemed to matter to Betsy right now.

She knew she was fifteen minutes early when she turned her car onto the road that had been cut up the hillside. But that was all right. Fifteen minutes sooner to ease his suffering.

Betsy was nearly to the top before she spotted the luxury car parked next to old Betsy. Then she saw him.

Her insides instantly churned with sickness, anger and though she didn’t like admitting it, jealousy.

“You have a helluva lot of nerve,” she mumbled to herself as she watched Stephanie press her lean body against his in the front doorway. Then she had the audacity to peck his cheek with a kiss.

Just what kind of game are you two playing? Good Lord, you’re engaged to be married, Steph. And just what kind of a man are you, Skylar Blakewood?

Betsy watched Stephanie float away from him and head her way. On first impulse, Betsy felt like slouching down in her seat so she wouldn’t see her. Second impulse had her opening her car door and stepping out as Stephanie started around the front of her car.

“A little early for you, isn’t it, Steph?”

“Did the thought cross your mind that I might not have been to bed yet?” she quipped. Her familiar wicked chuckle echoed off Betsy’s eardrums as she watched her disappear into her car.

Betsy silently counted to ten in an attempt to dissolve the anger boiling within. It might’ve worked if she hadn’t looked to Skylar the second the big car pulled away.

His eyes narrowed. And the smile Betsy had seen when Stephanie kissed him had vanished. It was as if he resented the fact that his beauty queen left him to face his enemy alone.

What could she have been thinking when she decided to back out on the deal to purchase the house? There was no way she was giving up her dream house now. And he could play on her sympathies all he wanted, she was keeping the house.

“You’re early,” he finally called to her.

“Is that a problem?” Betsy snapped as she strutted toward him.

Skylar turned away and began adjusting the door when he gave her a flat out, “No.”

“I was wondering when you were going to get that on.”

“Had to have it custom-made.”

“Look, I’m sorry for showing up early and intruding on you and Steph, but you sounded desperate when you called and--” The sound of his chuckle temporarily cut her off. “What’s so funny?”

“You didn’t interrupt anything important between me and Stephanie. Actually, I’m grateful for the intrusion.”

“I see.”

He faced her. “Do you always do that?”

“What?”

“Say I see when I can tell you don’t.”

“You’re wrong. It’s quite obvious you and Steph are having an affair. Why she’s marrying this Gregory somebody isn’t clear. I mean why not marry you if you’re the one who turns her on?”

He chuckled again, only louder. “You’re jealous.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Betsy protested, knowing he had hit the nail on the head.

“Well there’s no need to be. I’d hardly marry my first cousin. Or have an affair with her.”

Betsy gave his words another run through her head. When they registered, she wanted to jump for joy before the humiliation set in. “Why did you let me go on like that then?”

Skylar smiled. A delicious smile. “You were going so fast I thought if I stopped you, you might bite your tongue.”

Betsy tried not to, but couldn’t prevent the smile. “I do have a tendency to go on about things.”

“And to assume things that aren’t true.”

Betsy’s smile disappeared, not because she willed it to but because she suddenly felt ashamed. But Skylar let her off the hook pronto.

“I think you should know that even if Stephanie wasn’t my cousin, she’s not my type. Hell, no man should have to put up with her.”

Betsy slapped her forehead when another thought entered her mind. “I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been.”

“You’re not stupid.”

“Then how come when I found out Steph wasn’t marrying you, I didn’t question why she had to wait until you resigned to become a board member at the bank? I should’ve figured out you were a relative.”

Skylar shrugged, then smiled. “If you want to hear stupid, I’m the one who introduced Gregory to Stephanie.”

“I guess neither one of us have been thinking too clearly of late.”

“Gregory’s the investor friend I mentioned that first day we met, remember?”

Betsy nodded.

“Well, I doubt our friendship will last past the honeymoon.”

“They barely know each other then.”

Skylar groaned. “Believe me, the late night call I received a few weeks ago from Stephanie, insisting I haul myself over to the club because the two of them wanted to share the good news, I knew Gregory had gotten himself in deep.”

Could that have been the night? Oh God, what a fool she’d been. “That didn’t happen to be the night they got engaged, was it? And the night you recommended she re-list her house with me?”

“One and the same.”

Betsy winced. “I thought--”

Skylar wrinkled his brow. “Thought what?”

“It’s not important,” Betsy insisted before quickly changing the subject. “We really should be discussing the reason you wanted me to meet you here this morning.”

“I thought you’d want to hear the bank’s verdict.”

Betsy saw sadness and something else enter into his expression. But she couldn’t quite place it, other than resentment toward her.

“You can have the house,” she suddenly blurted.

Skylar gave her a surprised look. “You already heard?”

“Well no,” Betsy stammered. “But they approved the loan, didn’t they?”

Dead silence.

Then, when Skylar’s eyes finally met hers, he started taking baby steps toward her. “Betsy,” he began. But Betsy didn’t give him a chance to finish.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve already decided I don’t want--”

His mouth came down on hers before she had a chance to continue.

At first, Betsy resisted. Her fists pushed into his hard chest. But when he didn’t budge, she slid her arms around him. And her lips parted as his tongue commanded. The feel of his body sent a scorching heat to rise up within her. Not the kind of heat that was torturing. But rather, one that carried her off to some magical place she just knew she’d want to refuse the return journey from.

The journey to paradise was cut short when Skylar suddenly withdrew his tongue and stepped back from her, leaving Betsy feeling like she might crash to the ground. But before she hit, he stepped back up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. His warm blue eyes gazed down into hers.

“The board didn’t exactly approve your loan.”

“They didn’t?” Betsy croaked.

“You need a co-signer. Preferably me.”

Betsy blinked several times as her brain mauled over what he said. Then, once she thought she knew what he meant, she twisted away from him, anger beginning to replace all the earthshaking good sensations.

“I get it. We’re back to sharing the house.”

“Did I say that?”

“Why else would you consider co-signing?” she demanded.

“Who said I was considering?” Skylar fired right back.

“You’re not?”

“I’m not. I’ve already decided.”

Betsy’s head drooped. “I see.”

“I will not share this house with anyone except my wife.”

Betsy’s head jerked up. “Wife?”

“Will you have me for your husband?”

Betsy’s mouth opened and closed because she wanted to say, my husband, but her voice wouldn’t cooperate and produce the words.

Before she had a chance to give it another try, Skylar took her into his arms and drew her body snug against the hard mass of his own.

He kissed her gently before dragging his lips off the corners of hers and planting little kisses over her cheek until they reached her earlobe. Then he whispered those three magical words. “I love you.”

A tingling sensation went from the tip of her ear he was nibbling on to every part of her being in a split second.

“Marry me, Betsy Alexander. Make my life complete.”

Betsy pulled him tighter to her. She knew it was impossible, but she wanted to absorb all of him. She wanted to stay like this, entwined as one, forever. This feeling, this glorious feeling was too awesome to try to remember what a broken heart felt like, or to worry about surviving it. Because she had already died and gone to heaven in this man’s arms and she’d be safe forever.

“Yes, oh yes, I’ll marry you,” she moaned, breathless as Skylar ran his tongue down the side of her neck.

When his lips came back toward hers, he moaned passionately. And Betsy knew he was feeling the same kind of aching she felt. All the kisses and caresses were bringing them to the brink of some spectacular event. One that would occur if their bodies united in the divine way man and woman become one.

Skylar scooped her up in his strong arms. And as he carried her over the threshold, he whispered, “I want to make love to you, Betsy.”

“I’ll be in total misery if you don’t,” she whispered back as she nuzzled her head against his chest.

“No more misery, my love. I promise.”

He sealed the promise with a kiss. His lips melted over hers as he used his foot to close the front door behind them.

The End

About Lacey Diamond

Lacey’s a grandmother. But that doesn’t mean she’s a dried up old prune. Her husband can attest to that. Lacey believes reading a romance or writing one can give most any relationship a pleasurable boost.

Visit Lacey’s Website: http://www.laceydiamond.net

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