eyes still on Stone.
Correction. She’d thought she had true happiness. But it had been one big facade. She’d married Chad Parnell on a youthful whim, thinking she’d love him forever. That had been her first mistake. And throughout the marriage, there had been other mistakes. No more marital bliss for her.
“Mom, why are you staring so hard at that man out there?”
Tara turned to find her oldest daughter, Laurel, standing there with her hands on her hips, her starkly etched brows lifted in a question.
“I didn’t realize I was staring,” she said, her hand automatically fluttering to her hair. “Where are your sisters?”
“In the kitchen with Charlotte putting out more shrimp canapés,” Laurel said, rolling her eyes. “Can I please take this dress off now?”
“Not until all of the guests are gone,” Tara said, her gaze moving over the blue-and-white floral crepe dress Laurel was wearing. All three of her daughters had been in their Aunt Ana’s wedding, but Laurel had been the only one to moan and groan about wearing a frilly dress. “Besides, you look lovely. Did Cal notice?”
That brought a smile to Laurel’s sulking face. “He said I looked pretty, but I feel like such a kindergartner in this baby-doll dress.”
“Well, he’s right.” Reaching a hand up to cup Laurel’s face, Tara added, “And I agree with him. You do look pretty, baby.”
“I’m not a baby. I’m almost fifteen,” Laurel said, pushing her mother’s hand away. “Oh, never mind. I’m going to find Grandma.”
“Okay.” Tara hid the pain of her daughter’s rejection, but since her husband’s death a few months ago, she’d gotten used to Laurel’s shutting her out. Her daughter blamed her for Chad’s death.
And deep down inside, Tara knew Laurel was right to blame her.
“She one of yours?”
Tara whirled to find Stone leaning against one of the open pocket doors, his coat held in his thumb over one shoulder. He stared at her with that same intensity she’d just mentioned to Ana.
“My oldest,” she said, turning to busy herself with gathering napkins and punch cups. “And the reason I’m finding more and more gray hairs on my head.”
Dropping his coat on a chair, Stone reached out a hand to take the stack of dishes from her. “I don’t see any gray hairs.”
“Only my hairdresser knows for sure,” Tara quipped, very much aware of his touch. When he’d helped her down the gazebo step earlier, she’d felt a kind of lightning bolt moving up her arm. That same jolt was back now, like a current, humming right up to her heart.
Or maybe more like another warning.
“Does your hairdresser charge you a lot for that shampoo?”
Tara felt the magnetic pull of his eyes as they traveled over her hair then came to settle on her lips before his gaze met hers. Again, she got the feeling that he would pounce on her like a lion at any minute. “Drugstore special,” she managed to say. “I’m watching my budget these days.”
Why she’d said that, she didn’t have a clue. Or maybe she did. Tara had dealt with the whims and demands of her materialistic husband, and now that he was dead, she was dealing with the bills he’d left behind. Maybe she just wanted to set things straight with Stone Dempsey right away, so there would be no misunderstandings. So that he’d see she wasn’t like him, in any way, shape or form.
But then, what did it matter? Stone would be gone come tomorrow. And she’d be in a meeting that could very well change her life and hopefully take away some of the financial strain she’d been under since Chad’s death.
“It smells good,” he said, no disdain for her honesty in his eyes or his words. “Maybe I should invest in shampoo stock.”
Tara pulled away, dishes clattering in her hands. “Is that how it is with you? Is everything about money?”
“Yes,” he said, unabashed and unashamed. “Isn’t that how it is with everyone? Isn’t everything always about money?”
“You are different from your brothers,” she said, frustration and anger making her see red. His words sounded so much like Chad, it hurt to think about it. Or the fact that she’d once felt the same way.
Stone took the dishes away again, this time setting them down on a nearby side table. “And you’re completely different from your sister.”
“Touché,” she replied, feeling the sting of his remark just as much as she’d felt the heat of his touch.
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know exactly what you meant,” she said, moving around the table to get away from him. Stone made her too jittery, too aware of her own shortcomings.
But there he was, right beside her before she could rush out of the room, his hand bracing against the door facing, blocking her way.
“Could you please be a gentleman and let me by?” Tara asked, defiance in each word.
“Could you please not be in such a hurry to get away?” he countered, a daring quality in the question.
“I’m not in a hurry,” Tara replied, lifting her gaze to meet his compelling eyes. “I just think we got off to a very bad start, you and me.” Then she held her gaze and leaned close. “And we both know that you don’t visit very often around these parts. We probably won’t see each other much, in spite of the fact that my sister just married your brother, so what’s the point?”
He let that soak in while he took his time searching her face. Tara dropped her eyes, wishing she hadn’t said that, but when she looked back up, his expression had turned grim, as if he understood exactly what she was trying to say to him, exactly what she meant.
“Well, I did try to warn you,” he said, dropping his hand away as he stepped back.
Then he picked up his coat, turned and walked out into the night.
Chapter Two
S he refused to be nervous.
Finally, Tara thought as she paced the confines of the elegant lawyer’s office located in what used to be a Savannah town house, she was going to meet the buyer who’d been playing cat and mouse with her over the land Chad had left her. Finally, she was going to get the price she had named, the only price she would accept for the seventy-five acres of land that was now a prime piece of real estate.
And finally, she was going to get the face-to-face meeting she had requested with the buyer as part of the stipulation for the sale. Tara had to be sure that she was doing the right thing by selling off the land that rightfully belonged to her children. She had to see this mystery man in person, to look him in the eye, to know that she wasn’t selling out.
Whoever he was, he wanted this land badly. They’d been negotiating since the day she’d grudgingly decided to put the land on the market. Tara knew the buyer, who was hiding behind some massive corporate logo, wanted the land
