Destiny's Last Bachelor? (2 page)

Suddenly a blur of golden-brown raced past him.

“What the hell?” Dean had no idea how Daisy had managed to roll down the window enough to squeeze out, but she was making a beeline for the water’s edge.

And for the unsuspecting lady.

“Daisy!” Oh, man, this had trouble written all over it. “Daisy, get back here!”

His dog wasn’t listening. Nope, she headed straight for the water nymph.

The woman had spun around when he yelled. Blond waves flowed over her shoulders and dark sunglasses shaded her eyes. Her luscious mouth dropped open in surprise at the sight of him and his dog.

She stumbled back a few steps the moment Daisy charged in, splashing her way right to the woman before suddenly halting in front of her.

And damn if Daisy’s tail didn’t start wagging just above the waterline.

The woman started to smile and then leaned down, one hand outstretched toward his pet. A typical reaction, but Daisy wasn’t a typical dog.

Dean called out, “Stop! Don’t touch her.”

The nymph froze in place for a moment before slowly straightening, her free hand retreating to her chest. She was probably unaware she still held the ends of her skirt hiked up way past her knees with the other.

She stared at him—at least Dean thought she did behind those dark sunglasses—before she looked down at Daisy. Then she directed her gaze back to him, her chin lifting a bit. “I was only going to say hello.”

Her voice was as smooth and silky as the finest Chardonnay. Dean stopped when his boots hit the water’s edge, sinking a bit into the soft earth. “That’s probably not a good idea. She can be...unpredictable. Daisy, come here, girl.”

Daisy ignored him, keeping her gaze on the blonde, who glanced at the dog again before looking at Dean. “Does she bite?”

She never had, but he hated to think there might be a first time.

“No. I don’t think so.” He’d found Daisy in the desert during his last tour in the Middle East. The thirty-pound, two-foot-tall mutt resembled a Portuguese Podengo. Granted, she wasn’t growling and her wirehaired fur wasn’t bristling, but who knew what went on in a female’s mind—canine or human.

The woman took another step backward. “Well, she’s the one who came to me. Up until a moment ago I was enjoying a few minutes of blessed solitude.”

Hmm, a hint of snobbishness. “Yeah, well, she can be somewhat unfriendly at times.”

“The wagging tail notwithstanding, of course.”

“That’s not the end I’m worried about. Daisy! Come!”

Instead of obeying, his dog moved a couple of steps closer to the blonde, who regarded him with a slight tilt of her head. “Does she always listen so well?”

“She usually listens.” Whenever it worked to her advantage. “Then again, she’s got a mind of her own. Typical woman.”

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“That my dog is an independent thinker. More independent than I realized.”

The woman’s features softened as she looked at his dog. “Well, I can certainly respect that in any female. Even if she’s invading my personal space.”

He’d like to invade—

Dean cut off that thought before it could go any further. “I spotted your sweet ride from the road and stopped to see if you were in trouble.” He jerked a thumb at the convertible behind him. “You’re obviously not from around here. Are you having any problems?”

“Other than being accosted by a strange man and his dog? No.”

“I was just trying to be nice.”

“Thank you, but we’re fine. I’d appreciate it if you’d go now.”

We?
He did a quick survey of the area and saw there was no one else around. Still, she’d made her feelings clear enough, so he should probably head out. Then again, there was something about her. Why did he get the feeling he might know—

“Hey! Cut it out!” The cultured air surrounding the lady disappeared the moment Daisy licked her bare leg, causing her to laugh. “That tickles!”

The husky sound and the smile on her lips sent a wave of pure desire straight through Dean; suddenly, getting his dog to listen was the last thing he cared about. For starters, he’d be happy if the woman would remove her sunglasses so he could see what color her eyes were.

“Stop that now.” She scooted to one side, almost losing her footing in the sandy bottom of the river, but Daisy stayed right with her, a little pink tongue darting out again and again to lick at the water clinging to those gorgeous legs. “No more kisses, Miss Daisy. You need to behave.”

Dumbfounded, Dean braced his hands on his hips and stared at his dog. What in the hell was going on?

Daisy was acting like a besotted fool. “Boy, I can honestly say I’ve never seen her act this way before.”

The woman moved again, but the dog shadowed her every step. “Is that so?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, not sure if he liked this new side to his best friend. “Yeah, that’s so.”

“Well, if you don’t mind, could you try calling her again?”

“I’ll give it a shot.” Dean dropped his arms and crouched to the ground, balancing on the balls of his feet. “Come on, Daisy, come here.”

She didn’t even spare him a glance. Nope, his dog wasn’t the least bit interested in listening to him.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” The woman headed his way and his breath caught in his throat as he watched her walk, Daisy by her side. “As entertaining as this has been, it’s time for you, Miss Daisy, to go back to your owner.”

Daisy did start toward him, but then she turned back and let out a little yip as if she was disagreeing with her new friend, who laughed again. And this time, before Dean could get out another warning, she bent over and gently scratched behind the dog’s ears.

Dean didn’t know where to look first.

The enticing view of lace-covered curves thanks to the woman’s gapping neckline or Daisy, who immediately plopped her butt in the shallow water and raised her snout, the picture of pure contentment.

He was unable to resist sneaking a second glance at the woman’s sweet curves, before deciding to make a grab for his dog while she was distracted. Seconds later, he had Daisy in his arms, but when he straightened, the stranger did, too, and all it took was a bump of his shoulder against hers and down she went with a splash.

Ah, damn.

Trying to catch herself with her arms, she failed and fell backward, a soft cry falling from her lips. The water wasn’t very deep, but she landed firmly on her backside, ending up waist-deep in the swift current. The sunglasses stayed in place and she managed to keep her face out of the water, but the rest of her—including most of her silky blond hair—was all wet.

“Whoa, sorry about that.” Dean transferred Daisy into one hand and held her close to his chest, her wet fur drenching his shirt. With his other hand, he immediately reached for the woman. “Here, let me help.”

“No!” Sputtering, she waved him away while trying to sit up. “No, thank you, I’m fine.”

“Actually, what you are is soaking wet. Please, let me help you stand up.”

She refused his hand again and somehow got to her feet. Her clothes now clung to her body, and thanks to the transparency of the wet material, every perfect inch of her, including her lacy bra and panties, were visible.

“Oh, I’m a mess!”

Dean wanted to argue that fact, but he doubted she’d be happy with him.

“I can’t believe this!” she continued. “Look at me!”

He did his best to do just the opposite, but if something so beautiful was right in front of a man—

A low growl filled the air. Surprised, he looked down and found Daisy staring...at
him.
“Did you just growl at me, young lady?”

Clearly unhappy that he’d interrupted her fun, Daisy answered with another rumble that caused her entire body to vibrate.

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah, but I think she’s a bit upset I came between the two of you,” Dean said and then offered another smile. “And that I caused your tumble into the water. I really am sorry.”

“Apology accepted, but if you don’t mind...”

She left her sentence unfinished as she brushed past him. He turned to watch her retrieve a pair of high-heeled shoes and then head for her car.

Yep, the view was just as nice from this angle.

Dean followed, reaching her just as she leaned into the backseat of her convertible, grabbed a jacket and wiped at her face and arms. A quick glance into her side-view mirror had her clutching the jacket to her chest as she spun around.

“My clothes— The water—” she sputtered. “I look— You can see every—” She stomped her foot. “You just stood there!”

Daisy growled again as if confirming the lady’s accusations. Not that Dean needed reminding. He was sure he would be dreaming about his run-in with this modern Aphrodite later tonight in the lonely confines of his bed. “Ah, look, is there anything I can do—”

“You can leave.” Her upper-crust nature returned and her voice cooled as she shivered. “Now.”

“I don’t think I should leave you here alone—”

“I’m not alone. Snake!”

Snake?
He glanced around, startled, but saw nothing on the ground nearby. When she called out again, he realized she wasn’t talking about an actual reptile, but summoning someone.

What the hell? A bodyguard?

She certainly looked like the type who could afford paid protection, but where had the guy been for the past twenty minutes or so? Before Dean could ask, a tiny ball of fur raced out from the bushes, its yappy bark filling the air. The dog—if one could call it that—went straight to the lady and got between her and Dean, the annoying barking growing louder.

Daisy tensed, and Dean tightened his grip on her, but other than gazing intently at the little creature, his dog remained surprisingly silent.

“What is that?” he finally asked. “And does it have an off switch?”

“Hush, Snake. It’s okay.”

But still the little thing yipped away. Where had this pint-size terror been the whole time he’d been talking to her?

“What’s he doing?” Dean asked. “Trying to act as tough as his name?”

“Actually, those are his initials.
S. N. A. K. E.
His full name is Sebastian Niles— Oh, Snake, hush!”

Dean couldn’t stop himself from grinning at this sorry excuse for man’s—or woman’s—best friend. “Well, I see you have as much control of your pet as I do over mine— Hey!”

The dog had finally shut up, but only so it could focus on lifting one of its miniature back legs and peeing right on Dean’s cowboy boot!

“Oh, my!” The feminine laughter started again before she suppressed it by pressing her fingertips to her lips. “Oh, I am sorry. Snake, come here.”

The little rat trotted over and plopped down at its owner’s feet.

“I do apologize,” she repeated, the corners of those full lips turned upward. “Snake has never done anything like that before.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.” Dean gave his foot a quick shake. The bottom edge of his pant leg was now as damp as his shirt.

“Well, as you can see, I am very well guarded, so...”

“Okay, you win. We’ll leave.” He turned and headed for his truck. Tucking a finger beneath Daisy’s chin, he made her look at him. “You know, if you just would’ve stayed in the truck...”

Opening the passenger door, he started to place Daisy inside, but held on to her instead and raised the window. Then he closed the door, walked around to the driver’s side and climbed in. He made sure to hit the window lock before he released his dog into the passenger seat.

Sure enough, Daisy put her paw on the button.

“Oh, no, you’ve caused enough trouble for today.” Dean scolded as he put the vehicle into gear and drove away, pausing to take a quick glance at the lady in his rearview mirror. “And thanks to you, I never even got her name.”

Chapter Two

T
he Painted Lady Inn, a beautifully restored Victorian complete with turrets, gingerbread trim and a large wraparound porch, was located on the east side of Destiny, which turned out to be a much smaller town than Priscilla anticipated. Intent on following the GPS directions and still a bit flustered from her encounter with the handsome stranger, she hadn’t taken much time to look around as she made her way to her destination.

She’d seen brick-front businesses, many with colorful awnings and blooming flowers out front, surrounding a gazebo in the town’s center green. It all looked a bit dated, but charming. There seemed to be more people on the sidewalks than cars in the streets, and most turned to look as she drove past.

Pulling into the gravel lot next to the inn, Priscilla parked and locked her car, having raised the roof before leaving the river. She then walked inside with as much dignity as her appearance would allow, a small suitcase in one hand and Snake, this time with his leash attached, in the other.

She’d done her best to dry off before she got behind the wheel, tugging her jacket back on over her see-through dress and twisting her hair up again and clipping it in place, but she’d been unwilling to risk changing her clothes.

Who was to say another Good Samaritan wouldn’t come along? One who’d also be well over six feet tall with powerfully built arms and a crazy dog?

She had to admit the stranger’s size had been intimidating at first. She’d been wary of both him and his dog when he’d called out, but then the dog’s exuberant greeting and wagging tail had won her over.

At least until she’d spotted the gleam of interest in the man’s eyes.

That was the last thing she needed or wanted right now.

He’d done his best to be charming and she had to admit the dog was awfully cute, but then to find out just how sheer her pink silk tank top and skirt had become when wet—

“Hello, you must be Miss Lennox.” A petite older woman with snow-white hair that brushed her shoulders and stylish gray glasses perched on her nose spoke from behind the counter on the other side of the front hall. “And I’m guessing this is your pet?”

“Yes, that’s me.” Suddenly exhausted, Priscilla was thankful the woman pointedly ignored her damp hair and clothes. She set her bag at her feet and shook the woman’s hand. “And this is...well, he goes by his nickname, Snake.”

Up went the lady’s brows. “What an interesting moniker. I’m Minnie Gates, one of the owners of the Painted Lady. Welcome to our inn. We’re glad to have both of you with us.”

“Thank you.” Having grown up in the hotel business, Priscilla could spot a person putting on airs a mile away, but this woman’s charm and grace equaled that of her inn, making Priscilla feel instantly at home. “You have a beautiful place here.”

“Thank you, we’re quite proud of it.” Minnie smiled and took Priscilla’s credit card. Moments later she returned it along with an ornately fashioned key. “I’ve put you on the fourth floor. There are only two rooms up there and you’re in our largest suite. If you’d like to head straight up, I can arrange to have the rest of your luggage brought to you.”

Priscilla guessed she’d been watched as she parked, so the innkeeper would know she’d left her remaining cases in the backseat of her car. “That would be wonderful.” She handed over her car keys, then spotted the small sign on the counter that listed spa services available at the inn. Just what she needed. A glance at her watch told her it was almost six o’clock. “Oh, a massage would be terrific after— well, after being behind the wheel all day. Is it too late to set one up?”

“If you can wait about thirty minutes, I should be able to arrange something for you.”

“You’re an angel, Ms. Gates.”

“Please call me Minnie. All our spa services are done here on the main floor. Come down whenever you’re ready.”

Priscilla smiled her thanks, grabbed her bag and headed for the elevator. Once inside, she pulled Snake to her chest and graced him with a gentle kiss on his head. “Thank you for being a perfect gentleman with Minnie. I know the last couple of days have been rough and that scene down at the river didn’t help.”

Snake snuggled close and sighed. Priscilla remembered the first time the dog had done that. Her sister had brought the tiny creature home, presenting him with great fanfare, but then soon had gone off on another adventure, leaving Snake behind. A few days later the pup had followed Priscilla into her home office late one night. He’d weighed less than her briefcase when she picked him up and seconds later he’d made himself at home in her lap with the same contented sigh.

The elevator doors opened and Priscilla found her room at the end of the long hall. Stepping inside, she smiled as she took in the large space decorated in French country style. The bed linens, pillows and walls were done in soothing pastel colors such as aged ivory, lavender, pale yellow and green. The suite had a sitting area, complete with a fireplace on one side and a four-poster bed on the far wall. Her trained eye picked out the handmade, ornate Aubusson rug beneath her feet and the antique desk that sat directly in front of a set of windows that looked out over a beautiful garden and patio.

It didn’t take long to get Snake settled before her luggage arrived. Then she pulled out her cell phone to charge it, noting she had two more messages from her father. That made six since she’d left Beverly Hills.

Forcing herself to enter her passcode, she listened to the last one he’d left for her around lunchtime today.

“Priscilla, where are you? It’s been two days since the gala. An event you walked out on halfway through, I might add. I can’t reach your sister, either, but that’s no surprise. Call me. This situation needs to be handled. Now. This isn’t like you. You know how much I count on you being the responsible one—”

Cutting off the message before he could finish his lecture, Priscilla noted her father sounded more angry than worried by the fact he couldn’t seem to reach her.

She itched to return his call, to tell him someone else needed to handle things this time, but she’d already tried twice today and ended up leaving a message with his efficient secretary. She’d asked that he be told she was fine, still planned to be out of town for the foreseeable future and would call when she was settled.

Deciding that would do for now, she peeled off her damp clothes and slipped into a pair of dry panties, comfortable yoga sweats and a simple top. She hesitated for a moment, but then left her hair in the messy knot on her head and gave the large claw-foot bathtub in the adjoining bath a longing glance before realizing more than a half hour had passed and she was supposed to be downstairs.

First a massage, then she’d order some dinner from a local restaurant chosen from the list she’d found on the desk and crack open a gourmet doggy-food packet for Snake.

After all that, she should probably call Bobby and let him know—surprise!—she was in town.

She went downstairs and wandered around the first floor, walking through two beautiful parlors filled with comfortable antique furniture, fresh flowers and lots of books. But she didn’t see her host anywhere.

“Can I help you?”

Priscilla turned and found the nice young girl who had brought her suitcases to her room earlier. “I’m looking for Minnie. She’s arranged for me to have a massage and I fear I’m running late.”

“Minnie has gone to the carriage house out back—that’s where she and the Major live—but I can show you where to go if you like.”

“Yes, please.”

Priscilla followed the girl, who looked to still be in high school, back into the first parlor, when the old-fashioned ringing of a telephone filled the air. “Oh, I need to get that,” she said. “If you just go to the room on the other side of the foyer with the double glass doors, you’ll see everything is ready for you.”

Heading in the direction the girl pointed, Priscilla found a large ballroom on the other side of the foyer. It was empty, but she could easily picture it being used for parties and receptions. She walked deeper into the room, spotting the glass doors at the far end.

She stepped through them and found a converted porch with beautifully arched floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed light to pour in while honeycomb-shaped blinds assured privacy. A massage table draped in white linens had been set up in the center of the room with a nearby table holding scented candles, assorted lotions, a glass pitcher of ice water with sliced lemons and a stack of oversize towels.

Perfection.

No sign of the masseur or masseuse yet, but knowing she was already running late, Priscilla grabbed one of the towels and headed for the restroom in the far corner.

She quickly undressed and wrapped the towel around her. Leaving her clothes on a nearby chair, she headed for the table and perched herself on the edge, figuring she’d stretch out and wait. Before she could twist around to lie on her stomach, the glass doors opened.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” A deep male voice filled the air. “Boy, I’ve had the craziest afternoon—”

Priscilla froze when the sexy Good Samaritan from earlier today entered the room. “You!”

Confusion crossed his face for a moment as he studied her. Then he flashed her that same confident grin he’d sent her way earlier today. “Well, this is a nice surprise.”

She couldn’t believe it! Of all people, why would he be— “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, you’ll have to forgive me for not recognizing you right away....” His voice trailed off as he took a step into the room, his gaze darting around the floor. “You look a little different without your sunglasses.”

His perusal stopped the moment it landed on her bare toes and his smile deepened as he slowly let his gaze travel up her legs. By the time he reached the edge of the towel that rode high on her thighs, a warm flush had enveloped Priscilla.

She should be annoyed at his deliberate scrutiny, but for some reason she was—pleased? No, that couldn’t be right. Just because her ex had rarely taken his nose out of his financial journals, even during a dinner conversation, didn’t mean she thought that she felt—

“Or without your clothes,” he added.

Okay, pleased or not, he shouldn’t be in here. “Look, I don’t know who you are—”

“Dean Zippenella.” He moved to stand right in front of her and held out his hand. “We never got around to introductions down by the creek. At least, not the human kind.”

Placing her hand in his was an automatic gesture, thanks to her years of philanthropic work, but the zing of sensation dancing across her palm the moment they touched was new and totally unexpected.

She tried to draw her hand back. Too late.

His fingers closed around hers and held tight as he took another step toward her. This close, she could see the touch of gray in his closely cropped dark hair; the stubble on his jaw was the same dark color. A mix of sage, suede and musk invaded her nose, a spicy scent that must be his cologne. Despite sitting on the table, she had to tilt her head back to look at him, something that didn’t happen often, seeing as how she was just a few inches shy of six feet tall.

Without her heels.

Priscilla gave a gentle tug, a universal signal it was past time for him to release her, but his gaze flicked down over her shoulders and the exposed upper curves of her breasts, pausing for a heartbeat there before returning to her face.

“And you are?” he asked.

Her other hand involuntarily tightened where it kept hold of the towel’s overlapping edges. He didn’t look like the sort who would attack a woman, much less someone who read gossip magazines, but would he recognize her name? Would that make any difference?

“Priscilla Lennox,” she answered after a pause.

“It’s nice to meet you, Priscilla.” No flicker of recognition crossed his face at the sound of her name as he finally released her. “And please, let me apologize again for earlier today.”

He sounded sincere, but that still didn’t explain why he was here. “Apology already accepted. You didn’t have to chase me down—”

“I didn’t, even though I was glad to see your car in the inn’s parking lot. I’m here for an appointment.”

She noticed he’d changed his clothes. Gone were the khaki trousers and collared shirt he’d had on earlier. He now wore a simple black T-shirt that hugged his chest and shoulders, the word
ARMY
spelled out in big block letters across the front. Well-worn jeans, faded in some interesting places, and black boots— Wait, did he just say appointment? He looked more like a member of a motorcycle club than a masseur, but in a town this size...

She sighed, accepting that fate wasn’t quite done messing with her yet. “Well, I guess I’m that appointment.”

His left eyebrow shot up. “Excuse me?”

She had no idea why he looked so surprised. But they might as well just make the best of it. In a much-practiced move, Priscilla stretched out on the table and turned over on her stomach, all the while keeping the towel securely in place.

Resting her suddenly pounding forehead on her folded hands, she closed her eyes and said, “Just get started, please.”

* * *

Dean had to admit he wanted nothing more than to get his hands on this beautiful creature, but not like this. Obviously, Priscilla Lennox thought he was here to provide a massage, a service contracted by the inn, but she must’ve gotten her rooms mixed up.

This area was reserved for his weekly appointments with the retired marine who owned the inn. The old man hated hospitals so much he refused to come to the veterans’ clinic where Dean worked for his physical-therapy sessions. Considering the hell the still-spry veteran had gone through as a prisoner of war in Vietnam, Dean believed he’d more than earned the right to feel any damn way he pleased.

So every Friday afternoon Dean—being former military himself—ended his work week here at the inn, in a less clinical setup.

He’d noticed the familiar red convertible when he’d arrived at the inn and hoped for the chance to run into the pretty blonde again and make a second and better impression this time. But not this way. “Ah, look, I think I should explain about the massage—”