Summer Days

by Lisa Jackson

  “And now what do we do?” she asked the tabby as dusk settled over the city, draping the hills in a cloak of purple light. “Back to square one?”

  Shamus didn’t deign to answer.

  Valerie parked in her usual spot. Balancing the cat carrier and two suitcases, she trudged up the three flights to her apartment, jabbed her key into the lock and kicked open the door.

  “About time you showed up,” Hale drawled.

  Valerie stopped dead in her tracks. Shamus hissed. She dropped one suitcase, and Hale, blast the man, had the audacity to smile. Draped insolently on her couch, the heels of his Nikes propped on a chair, he flashed her that heart-stopping grin she found so irresistible. His jaw was dark with the shadow of a beard, his mouth framed by deep lines, his eyes as warm and erotic as ever. Dressed in worn jeans and a beat-up leather jacket, he looked as if he belonged here.

  Just the sight of him nearly broke her heart. Why couldn’t she force herself to hate him?

  “Close the door, Val.”

  “Wh-what are you doing here?”

  “I think we have some unfinished business.”

  “But . . . how?” She glanced around the room. “How did you get in?”

  “You left an extra set of keys in that.” He pointed to a beach bag she’d obviously forgotten while escaping The Regina.

  She leaned against the wall. “And you couldn’t resist breaking and entering.”

  “I didn’t break—just entered.”

  Though her heart was galloping a thousand miles a minute, Valerie tried to keep some rein on her thoughts. She shrugged out of her coat and let Shamus free. The cat made a beeline to the French doors. “What about the Stowells?”

  Hale cocked one dark brow. “What about them?”

  “Where are they?”

  “Still yachting up north, I guess.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Nope.” Stretching, he climbed off her couch, walked forward and closed the door she’d left open. “And I don’t care.”

  “Give me a break—”

  “You’ve had your break,” he said evenly, though his smile faded a little. Standing so close she could see his pupils dilate, he said softly, “I told William Stowell I wasn’t interested in his company.” He fingered a wayward strand of her hair, and his touch sent tingles sliding down her spine. “Stewart’s ecstatic about the turn of events. William’s mad, and Beth—she told me I’d better chase after you.”

  “So that’s why you’re here?”

  “Nope.”

  His breath fanned her face and his fingers were playing havoc with her senses. Valerie swallowed. “Then why?”

  “Guess.”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “Because of you.”

  Her heart leaped. Her fingers clenched. Don’t believe him, Valerie. He wants something! “Me? But why?”

  “Because this afternoon you walked out on twenty-five thousand dollars and the best job you’ll ever find in this city. If you read the contract you signed with me carefully, you’ll realize you signed a noncompete agreement.”

  She winced a little, remembering the contract. “You’d hold me to it?”

  “Of course I would.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “But why?”

  “Because you’re supposed to work for me for the next six months. Your idea, remember?”

  “But not as your fiancée.”

  “No. As my assistant. And my wife.”

  The words stunned her. “Your wife?”

  “Marry me, Val.”

  Was he serious? Her palms began to sweat. “I don’t think we can convince William Stowell we’re still engaged.”

  “This has nothing to do with Stowell.”

  “No? Then what?”

  “You and me,” he drawled.

  It was all she could do to stand her ground. Her heart hammered, and she licked her lips nervously. “Don’t you think this has gone on long enough?”

  “A lifetime isn’t enough.”

  Valerie stared at him. She wanted to believe him—dear God, if only she could! But just this morning another woman had showed up as her replacement—a woman who had known all about the cruise, a woman ready to pose as Hale’s fiancée.

  “Look, I don’t know why you’re here, or who you’re trying to convince you have all the right intentions, but it doesn’t matter. And if you really intend to uphold the noncompete clause, I’ll find another job. In another field.”

  Hale shook his head. “You wanted to work for me, didn’t you? You wanted to prove you could be my assistant?”

  “Yes.”

  “And now I’m giving you the chance to be my wife.”

  Slowly he reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew his handkerchief. “You forgot something besides your bag on the yacht.” Opening the cloth, he held out the diamond ring he’d bought her less than two weeks before.

  She shook her head, fighting the crazy urge to throw her arms around him and tell him that she’d love to marry him, that she’d willingly spend the rest of her life with him, that in her wildest fantasies she dreamed of only him.

  Instead she kept her voice reasonably calm. “We don’t even know each other.”

  “I know all I have to.”

  Her head was spinning, her throat constricting. Things were moving too fast. Though she knew she should yank her hand back as he placed the ring on her finger, she didn’t.

  “Come on.” Taking her hand in his, he unlocked the French doors and stepped onto her deck.

  Shamus darted behind the planter. The sounds of the city seemed far in the distance, the lights winking on the bay reflections of the stars.

  “So,” Hale said as a breeze teased his hair, “what do you want to know about me?”

  “How about your family for starters?”

  He grimaced, his eyes becoming as dark as the night. Seconds stretched to minutes. “All right,” he finally said. “I never knew my father. He left before I was born.”

  “And your mother?” she asked, seeing a pain in his eyes.

  “My mother.” His expression hardened. “My mother gave me up when I was two. I don’t remember her. Other than from one picture I had. But I threw it out after I realized she never wanted to see me again.”

  “When you were two?” she whispered, her heart nearly stopping.

  “I was in the way. You see, she found herself a wealthy man, a man who wasn’t interested in raising someone else’s kid.”

  “Oh, Hale, no . . .” Valerie whispered, the tears she’d battled all day filling her eyes. “But your grandparents . . . ?”

  “Were dead. I grew up in foster homes. Some were okay. Others . . .” He shrugged, frowning and stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Well, it all worked out, I guess. I’ve never seen my mother since the day she left me.” His voice was emotionless, but Valerie had to struggle against her own tears. She ached for the little unloved boy he’d once been. No wonder he thought money was so important—that he could buy whatever he wanted. His mother had abandoned him in pursuit of the almighty dollar.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” He offered her a weary smile. “Anything else you want to know about me?”

  “Everything,” she admitted.

  “Everything.” He let out a long breath. “That might take a while.”

  “I’ve got the time,” she whispered, trusting him at last.

  Moonlight caught in his eyes. “Do you?”

  “If forever’s long enough.”

  He blinked, as if astounded. Then a smile spread slowly from one side of his face to the other. “Why, Ms. Pryce, are you proposing to me?”

  Valerie laughed. “Or propositioning you. Whatever you want.”

  “Oh, no. This time we tie the knot. Before you have a chance to escape.” With that he wrapped strong arms around her and held her tight. His lips hovered over hers.

  Her pulse thundered, and a warmth, liquid and soft, stirred deep ins
ide. She wound her arms around his neck and held him close. There was so much to learn about him—so much to love. And she had the rest of her life.

  When he finally lifted his head, he rested his chin on her crown. “I love you, you know.”

  “And I love you.”

  “Lake Tahoe is only a few hours away,” he said, glancing at his watch. “We could be married by midnight.”

  “Tonight?” she gasped.

  “Tonight.”

  “But what about Shamus?”

  “We’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “And my mother—”

  “Can read about it in the newspapers.”

  Valerie laughed, thinking of her mother’s response. “You know, she just might like that.”

  “I love you, Valerie Pryce.”

  “And I love you.” She gazed up at him and couldn’t help smiling. “But this won’t get you out of that contract. I still intend to work for Donovan Enterprises and prove that I can handle the job as your personal assistant.”

  Hale laughed. “You already have.”

  “Don’t think you can weasel out of it.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he countered. “In fact, I think we should draw up a new agreement. One that states exactly what your duties will be as my wife, what will be expected of you, how you’ll spend your days.”

  “Not on your life, Donovan. This time the only piece of paper we need is the marriage license.”

  “Amen,” he whispered, kissing her again, drawing her into the circle of his arms and holding her as if he never would let her go. “Stay with me forever.”

  “I will,” she vowed, and she meant it.

  EPILOGUE

  Lake Tahoe

  Valerie stood on the edge of the dock, squinting against the lowering sun. The sky was on fire, boats knifing through the clear water, the beach littered with dozens of people.

  So where was Hale?

  A large yacht slid into a berth in a nearby marina, and for a second, Valerie was reminded of The Regina and the two weeks she’d spent aboard the gleaming vessel and how she’d fallen in love with Hale. That had been nearly three years earlier. She rubbed her arms with the coming night as the sun settled behind the ridge of forested mountains to the west.

  “Hey!” Hale’s voice reached her, and her heart did that same little flip it always did at the sound of his voice.

  She turned and found him walking up the planks of the dock, their two-year-old son, Nate, balanced upon his shoulders. The boy, with dark hair and big eyes, grinned widely when he spied his mother. “Mommy, look! I’m big.”

  “Yes, you are, buddy,” she said as she walked barefoot toward them. She grinned up at her son, his chubby legs caught beneath Hale’s wide shoulders.

  “Bigger than you!” Nate chortled, looking down at her, and Hale had to laugh.

  Her throat still caught at the sight of her husband, and when he placed one hand over her shoulders and trapped his son’s ankles with the other, she felt that same little thrill at his touch. She wondered if it would ever go away and vowed not to let it. The three years had been the best of her life.

  She fell into step with Hale, he in faded jeans and a T-shirt, she in a short skirt and gauzy blouse. They walked through the sand and tall stands of pine to the private house they owned on the lake’s shoreline.

  Her life had changed after accepting Hale’s proposal. Theirs had been a small, private wedding on this very shoreline a bare four weeks from the fateful day she’d first walked into his office and applied for a job.

  Her mother had attended and surprisingly was thrilled with the match. To her credit, Anna, too, much improved and now walking with a cane, was dating, though she confided to Valerie that she was “taking it slow, or at least slower than you did! Which shouldn’t be too hard, considering that you got married faster than Kim Cochran on Life’s Golden Sands.”

  Valerie had gotten pregnant soon after the wedding, and she’d worked as Hale’s assistant until the moment her water broke in the office. Since then she’d been staying at home with their son in their penthouse apartment with its magnificent views of San Francisco Bay. On the weekends, they came here to a house that Hale had bought years before. Small and rustic, the cabin had been built a hundred years earlier on the shoreline. Surrounded by pine trees, with an incredible view of the deep blue waters of the lake, this little cabin was more than their “home away from home”; it was their retreat. Here, Hale could decompress and spend uninterrupted hours with his family. It was perfect.

  Hale, once he’d become a father, had made a concentrated effort to cut back his once all-consuming interest in the next deal.

  “Guess who I heard from today?” he asked as they walked up two steps to the broad front porch where an old swing swayed slightly in the breeze.

  “I couldn’t.”

  “Stewart Stowell.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep.” He held the screen door open for her, then said, “Watch your head, Nate,” as he ducked down and followed her inside the two-bedroom cottage that was about as different from their sleek penthouse as night to day. Cozy furniture was placed around a freestanding fireplace, and hundred-year-old windows opened to the lake and forest. The galley kitchen was small, but efficient, and the two bedrooms could have fit into their spacious master bedroom in the city.

  God, how she loved it here.

  “So what did Stewart want?”

  “Me to invest in the company.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, isn’t that something?” He swung his son onto the floor, and Nate’s little legs, already in motion, propelled him to a toy box that Valerie had just filled after picking up the toys. In three seconds Nate had dumped the box and plopped into the middle of a pile of plastic trucks, train pieces, and sturdy books.

  “Daddy, come play!” he insisted.

  “I will, bud. Just give me a minute.”

  For once, Nate didn’t protest, but started trying to link magnetic train cars.

  Valerie asked, “What did you say when he made you the offer?”

  “ ‘Thanks, but no thanks.’ ” Hale shook his head. “Stewart got what he wanted, so he can deal with it. I bet his old man is having a heart attack. You know what they say about getting what you wish for... well, Stewart got it—in spades.” Hale added, “Oh, and guess what?”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “Regina got married.”

  “Really? To whom?”

  “Some Italian shipping tycoon who’s twice her age and has racked up three ex-wives, along with half a dozen kids. According to Stewart, William’s livid, but it’s a done deal.” Hale walked to the kitchen, and she heard the sound of the refrigerator door opening and closing.

  “Are we invited to the wedding reception?”

  He laughed. “Want to go?”

  “No!”

  Again he laughed, that deep sound that was now familiar and always warmed her. From the kitchen he called, “Can I get you something? Beer? Wine? Soda?”

  “Thanks, but not right now.”

  Returning to the room, Hale twisted off the cap from a long-necked bottle, took a sip, then stretched out on the faded rug and began helping Nate put tracks together. Valerie lowered herself onto the floor as well and wondered how she could have ever been so lucky as to find this man she absolutely adored and have a son who was the very essence of her being. Life was good.

  “So,” Hale said, sending her a look over his shoulder. “Nate and I went into town and found this.” He dug into his pocket and retrieved a small jeweler’s box.

  “What? Oh.”

  “You didn’t think I’d forget our anniversary, did you?”

  “Our anniversary is next week.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe we decided to jump the gun, hey, buddy? Right?”

  Nate didn’t respond; he was so into playing with a train car. Even when Hale ruffled his dark curls, the boy kept trying to fit one car into the next.

  Hal
e handed her the box, and her heart swelled. “What’s this? A cotton ball? Or a tiny spool of thread. Isn’t that the tradition on the second anniversary? Cotton.”

  “Old-school. Now, it’s something like china, I think.”

  “Like you would know.”

  “I know more than you think.”

  “Amen.” She plucked the tiny box from his outstretched hand, opened it, and spied a set of earrings, perfectly matched to the ring he’d given her two years ago, the one she wore, the once “fake” engagement ring that had become the real thing. “Oh,” she whispered, eyeing the glittering diamonds. “They . . . they’re stunning. Thank you,” she whispered, genuinely touched. “But, come on, you did not get them at the local store.”

  “Guilty as charged. I actually ordered these myself from the jeweler who made the ring.”

  “You did . . .”

  “Good.”

  “Beyond good. They’re beautiful,” she said, and let him help her put them on, then kiss the nape of her neck before letting her hair fall over her shoulder again. “Well, since we’re doing this early, I have something for you, too.”

  “Really?” One dark eyebrow rose expectantly, and he slid a hopeful glance toward their open bedroom door.

  “Hmmm. Maybe that, too . . . later.” She gave him a sexy little smile and added, “But, no, that’s not the surprise.”

  “What?”

  “You’ll see.” Winking, she climbed to her feet, then hurried into the bathroom while he looked after her, holding a beer in one hand and a piece of toy train track in the other.

  “Can’t wait,” he called after her.

  She retrieved her present from a drawer, then returned to the living area to sit on the floor next to him. “You’ll have to.”

  “Wait? Why? What are you talking about?”

  “It’s only for a little while.”

  “How little?” he asked, intrigued, but a light was beginning to dawn in his eyes.

  “About eight months, I’d guess—maybe seven and a half,” she said, handing him the stick from the pregnancy test she’d taken earlier.

  “Wait a second. Are you telling me . . . ?” He glanced down at the test stick.

  “Uh-huh, you, Hale Donovan, are going to be a father again, and our Nathan will have to learn to share, as he’ll be a big brother.”