My Love At Last
Donna Hill
The right one is always worth waiting for…Dr. Olivia Gray's passion for history is sparked by the mystery surrounding her own birth parents. A research project in Sag Harbor promises to be her most intriguing assignment yet—especially when she meets Connor Lawson. Shared interests and easy banter give way to searing, unforgettable nights. Yet until she uncovers her past, she can't consider anything other than temporary bliss…The sting of his ex-fiancée's betrayal has left the intense, charismatic restoration specialist resistant to every matchmaking attempt—until Olivia moves to town. She's gorgeous, talented and determined to avoid commitment. That makes their wild attraction just perfect…until it's not nearly enough. One soul-baring revelation at a time, she's restoring his belief in love, but can he convince her he's offering the kind that lasts forever?
The right one is always worth waiting for...
Dr. Olivia Gray’s passion for history is sparked by the mystery surrounding her own birth parents. A research project in Sag Harbor promises to be her most intriguing assignment yet—especially when she meets Connor Lawson. Shared interests and easy banter give way to searing, unforgettable nights. Yet until she uncovers her past, she can’t consider anything other than temporary bliss...
The sting of his ex-fiancée’s betrayal has left the intense, charismatic restoration specialist resistant to every matchmaking attempt—until Olivia moves to town. She’s gorgeous, talented and determined to avoid commitment. That makes their wild attraction just perfect...until it’s not nearly enough. One soul-baring revelation at a time, she’s restoring his belief in love, but can he convince her he’s offering the kind that lasts forever?
Connor watched her for a moment before he reached out and brushed a stray hair away from her face. His fingers lingered on her cheek. “I thought about you all night.”
Olivia’s throat felt tight. “So did I...about you.”
He leaned closer. His hand drifted down from her cheek to rest for a moment on her shoulder before slowly tracing the rise of her breast beneath her white cotton shirt.
Her breath caught. For a moment her eyelids fluttered.
She heard his deep groan an instant before his mouth covered hers. This kiss was no kiss of invitation, or one that asked permission. It was immediately raw and demanding and insistent on having its way with her.
Connor cupped the back of her head, threaded his fingers through the wild tangle of her hair and pulled her close. His tongue dipped into her mouth, explored it, made it his own.
Olivia gave in, gave all. Her fingers pressed into the hard muscle of his arms to keep from floating away.
“I could make love to you right here, right now,” he groaned against her mouth. He pulled away, stared into her eyes. “But I’ll wait.”
Dear Reader (#u274ef542-8662-5565-99cc-a87e95ff7ea2),
I so love the Lawsons! Don’t you? And what better way to keep the steam going than to introduce you to another hunky Lawson man.
In My Love at Last, I introduce Connor Lawson, first cousin to Rafe and the crew. Connor specializes in historic restoration, with his latest project being in the idyllic town of Sag Harbor. But there is no point in having a sexy man without a hot woman who is just right for him, even if they can’t admit it quite yet. Dr. Olivia Gray is an anthropologist who specializes in researching original inhabitants and lost communities. Of course these two wonderful people have their own issues that are buried beneath the surface. And once they are dug up, they will need a lot of love to fix them.
When I was mulling over the idea for my next novel, I thought about the things that I was interested in. I love old homes and the history that goes along with them. Coincidently, this semester, I’ve been teaching African and Caribbean literature and African American lit. The readings were so inspiring and eye opening for my students and the seed of “discovery” was planted. One of these titles was from Zora Neale Hurston.
As many of you know Zora Neale Hurston was an anthropologist, and my best friend Gwynne Forster was a demographer. Both of them were invested in discovering the intricacies of communities. They inspired Dr. Olivia Gray, and combined with my love and fascination for old homes and a sexy Lawson man, you have My Love at Last. I hope you enjoy it.
Until next time,
Donna
My Love at Last
Donna Hill
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
DONNA HILL began writing novels in 1990. Since that time she has had more than forty titles published, which include full-length novels and novellas. Two of her novels and one novella were adapted for television. She has won numerous awards for her body of work. She is also the editor of five novels, two of which were nominated for awards. She easily moves from romance to erotica, horror, comedy and women’s fiction. She was the first recipient of the RT Book Reviews Trailblazer Award, won the RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award and currently teaches writing at the Frederick Douglass Creative Arts Center.
Donna lives in Brooklyn with her family. Visit her website at donnahill.com (http://donnahill.com).
This novel is lovingly dedicated in memory of my dearest friend, confidant and mentor Gwynne Forster.
Contents
Cover (#uc31f528a-2e52-59b6-86c7-107cb4cdea14)
Back Cover Text (#u82f185e1-f760-560b-8aa8-8f0cfbe25dff)
Introduction (#u0e73b8d9-2c21-5e1b-994f-4a84676f47db)
Dear Reader
Title Page (#ua3f00783-2e03-50c8-828c-d11de9ca035f)
About the Author (#u357d42d8-5dbb-5e16-b5a6-a75aa363ba44)
Dedication (#ua8675002-cedb-5247-a9eb-2c456dc94db5)
Chapter 1 (#u43908b83-959f-57c9-8a60-3b1106a3ca0d)
Chapter 2 (#u2e68462a-1b88-5f0c-afa6-50a8ed5581d2)
Chapter 3 (#u80f2f446-e1cf-5b15-b3ed-a2a7e7cd9324)
Chapter 4 (#u6d98db3e-7f78-53c2-9691-54f6202e135e)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#ulink_75bebc3c-f11d-547e-af48-00a22fb1e4f2)
Tall, dark, sleek. He stood framed in the doorway. He was clad in all black that only served to emphasize the sensual intensity that wafted around him like musical notes. She watched him, hypnotized by the way his long fingers wrapped around the glass that he lifted to his mouth. He swallowed and could taste the warm amber liquid as it slid down his throat. Sensing his prey, he turned his head slowly in her direction. She should have looked away but she didn’t move. His dark, deep-set eyes sucked her into a vortex of heat that raised the hair on the back of her neck. His mouth, that full, lush mouth, flickered ever so slightly. His eyes settled on her over the rim of his glass and he tipped it subtly in her direction. Her nipples puckered against the fabric of her bra. She shifted her body, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away. A woman crossed her line of vision and played up to him, touching his arm with familiarity, laughing and smiling. She linked her arm through his and they walked out to the back lawn, where the party was in full swing.
Olivia Gray sucked in air, catching the breath that had escaped her. She felt warm all over and her throat was as dry as if she’d slept with her mouth open. She plucked a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter and took a much-needed swallow.
“Having a good time?”
Olivia blinked, turned toward the voice of her hostess. “Yes, Melanie, thanks for inviting me.”
Melanie Harte, owner of The Platinum Society, an elite matchmaking service, was legendary in Sag Harbor for her amazing parties. This one was no exception. “I make it a point that all the newcomers to the Harbor feel welcome and get to know each other.” Her gaze followed the direction of Olivia’s. “His name is Connor Lawson,” she said quietly, with a gleam of knowing in her light eyes.
Olivia flushed. “Who?”
Melanie’s laughter tinkled like fine crystal. “I’m very good at what I do, Olivia, and I know a connection when I see one. The electricity between the two of you lit up the room.” She stepped closer and turned to face Olivia. “I think that an introduction is in order. You both have a lot in common.” She lifted her chin toward the back door. “Lydia won’t hold his attention long. She’s not his type.”
“How do you know all this?”
Melanie sipped her champagne. “Do you want to meet him or not?”
Olivia’s lips parted. “All right.”
They crossed the expanse of the living room, with Melanie stopping every few feet to say a word or make introductions among her guests. She finally stepped outside, scanned the gathering on the lawn. The well-dressed guests lounged at the tables dotting the manicured grass or chatted in tight conversation groups.
“Over there,” Melanie said. She walked in the direction of Connor, who was leaning against a willow tree listening to Lydia.
Olivia followed closely, casually looking about and casting a smile here and there to keep her mind off the next few steps, which would land her right in front of Connor Lawson.
“Connor.” Melanie slid up to him and possessively draped her arm around his waist. “I see Lydia is monopolizing all of your time.” She flashed a false smile at Lydia while she smoothly angled herself between the two of them. “How are you enjoying yourself, Lydia?”
“Wonderful as always.”
“I do want to talk with you about a few things.”
Lydia’s finely arched brows rose in question. “Oh.”
“Excuse my manners. Connor Lawson, this is Dr. Olivia Gray. She’s here from New York on a research project. And you’re working on the restoration of the homestead, right?”
“I am.” He turned the full wattage of his maleness on Olivia.
Her breath hitched. The air around them crackled.
“What are you researching?” he asked her. He pulled her in with his bottomlessness voice.
“The origins of the African-American families of Sag Harbor.” Her own sketchy beginnings might be buried here, but no one needed to know that.
Moonlight pinged the dark orbs of his eyes. “Perhaps we can compare notes.”
“I think that’s a great plan,” Melanie said. “Why don’t you two work out those details while Lydia and I talk about thatthing.” She hooked her arm through Lydia’s and ushered her away before she could form the words of protest.
Connor rolled his gaze toward Olivia, and she turned the energy right back on him. The corner of his mouth quirked into a grin. “You have a New York vibe.”
“And what kind of vibe would that be?”
He took a swallow of his drink. “Sophisticated. Savvy. Sexy.”
The bud between her legs twitched in response. “Do you say that to all the girls from New York?”
“Only the special ones.”
Olivia raked her bottom lip with her teeth.
Connor studied the erotic move and wondered if she was intentionally trying to turn him on. It wouldn’t take much. He’d felt the rise for her the instant he spotted her across the room.
“Melanie said you’re doing restoration work. The Homestead?” she said, shifting the tone and direction of the conversation.
He slid his free hand into his pocket to keep from touching her. “One of the original string of cabins. Challenging work. There’s a lot of history buried out there. Every day is a treasure hunt.”
Olivia felt his energy and his passion from the pitch of his voice and the spark in his eyes. He loved what he did, and she knew that he was good at it. He would be good at anything he did.
“I’d love to see it...what you’re working on. I’m sure it would help me with my own work.”
“We’ll have to work that out, and then you can tell me all about your research.” His eyes snaked over her, teasing her flesh. Was her skin as silky as it looked encased in that body-hugging royal blue? His jaw clenched. And those legs...wrapped around his back.
She brought her glass to her lips. “What got you involved in restoration?”
“Long story.” For the first time his steady gaze wavered. He shifted his body weight. “What about you? What kind of doctor are you?”
“Anthropologist.”
His right brow flicked in admiration. “Beauty and brains.”
Her black lashes lowered over her lids. “How long is your story?”
“Maybe I’ll tell you about it over dinner.”
Her brown eyes settled on his face. “Are you asking me out, Mr. Lawson?”
“All my friends call me Connor. And yes, in answer to your question, I’m asking you to join me for drinks and dinner.”
Why did it sound like so much more, or was it only her libido talking?
“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Olivia glanced over her bare right shoulder and smiled. “Desiree. Sorry. Melanie whisked me away.”
“I see you’ve met Connor.” She stepped up to him and kissed his cheek. “I hope you haven’t been using that naughty Lawson charm of yours on Olivia.”
Connor grinned, baring a flash of even white teeth. “I never thought of myself as naughty. We were having a very intense business discussion.” He slid his gaze toward Olivia. “Isn’t that right?”
“All business.”
Her lips pursed ever so slightly, and he had every intention of tasting them before the night was over.
Desiree looked from one to the other. “Hmm. Well, Lincoln and I are leaving soon,” she said to Olivia. “Ready?”
“Oh...okay.” Olivia made a move as if to leave.
“I’d be happy to drive you home if you aren’t ready now.”
Olivia flashed him a look. Did she need to be hemmed up with him in a car, with the irrational way her body was reacting to him? “If you’re sure you don’t mind?”
His eyes narrowed. “Looking forward to it.”
“Then, I will see you two later,” Desiree said. She squeezed Olivia’s upper arm and wagged a warning finger at Connor. “Play nice.”
“Always.” He winked.
Desiree chuckled and went in search of her husband, Lincoln.
“You’re staying at The Port?” Connor asked.
“Yes. I am.”
“My cousin-in-law Layla runs the spa over there.”
Olivia brightened as the pieces clicked in place. “You’re related to Maurice and Layla?”
“Maurice is my first cousin.”
“You get discounts on the massages?”
“No. But I give pretty good massages.” Connor tipped his head to the side and looked at her from beneath a veil of thick lashes. “So I’ve been told.”
Her heart thumped.
“Walk?”
She gave a slight shrug. “Sure.”
He placed his hand at the small of her back, right above the rise of her very round derriere. He took a quick peek. Lovely.
She felt the heated imprint of his palm, wanted it lower. Warmth spread between her inner thighs.
Connor guided her away from the house and across the slope toward the beach. The rushing sound of the ocean rolling toward the shore and beating against the rocks grew stronger.
“How long have you been here?” Connor asked.
“Just about three weeks.”
“Surprised we haven’t met sooner.”
“I’ve been buried in notes and journals since I arrived. Desiree convinced me that I needed a break and got me invited here tonight.”
“I’ll have to thank Desiree.”
“For what?”
“For realizing that you needed to take a break. Otherwise think of all the time wasted before we would’ve met.”
Everything he said was an invitation. He kept opening the door, waiting for her to step through. She wouldn’t be that easy. Not now. Not just yet. “What about you? How long have you been here?”
“Almost a year. I got commissioned to work on the restoration last summer.”
“What are some of the other projects you’ve worked on?”
“Hmm, brownstones on Strivers Row, theaters, African burial grounds in Manhattan...” He shrugged. “Things like that. What about you?”
“I’ve visited the burial grounds and examined the remains. It was quite surreal to realize who those people were...our ancestors,” she said with quiet reverence. “How did you get started?”
He was thoughtful for a moment, looked skyward. “The incident that pushed me was when I took a trip to Goree Island in Senegal during my first year in college.”
“Incredible place,” she enthused. She stopped, bent down and took off her shoes. She looped the straps over her fingers.
Connor followed suit as they approached the sandy beach. “How long is your project?”
“Much of it depends on what I find.” She tilted her head toward him for a moment, then looked away. The sand was warm beneath her feet. She flexed her toes, letting the grains run over and between them. “This feels good.”
“What night are you free?”
“Free?”
“For drinks and dinner.”
“Oh. Umm, Tuesday,” she said randomly.
“Eight good for you.” It wasn’t really a question.
“Yes. Eight sounds fine.” His scent drifted to her. Her lids fluttered.
“Let me know when you’re ready.”
Ready. There was that tone of invitation again, skidding up her spine.
“I could stay out here until sunrise,” she said, wistfully gazing out to the horizon. “But—” she angled her head toward him “—I do have a busy day tomorrow.”
Connor placed his hand at the dip in her back again. She sucked in air.
“Then, I’d better get you home.”
* * *
“I really appreciate this,” Olivia said while she fastened her seat belt. The entire interior of the vehicle held his scent, something hunky and sensual that she couldn’t quite name but wanted more of.
“Not a problem. Besides—” he put the car in gear “—I was ready to leave. These gatherings aren’t really my thing.”
“I would have never thought that.”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a half grin. “Why not?”
She recalled the way Lydia had clung to him, the way the women in the room reacted when he passed, his relaxed demeanor. “You seemed in your element. Comfortable.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” he said. “As we both know from the work we do.” He tossed her an amused look.
“Hmm, true,” she conceded. “So why isn’t it your thing?”
“Let’s just say that the Lawson legacy is steeped in ‘gatherings.’ Instead of sleepovers or street games or sports with your friends, we were indoctrinated in the art of ‘climbing the social ladder’ through an endless stream of things like tonight.”
The jaded tone of his voice was not lost on Olivia.
“I’d want to go hang out with my friends, drink, smoke, stuff that teens do, but I would be corralled along with my siblings and cousins to attend galas and coming-out parties and political fund-raisers.” He pushed out a sigh. “So, yeah, I guess you could say that I appeared to be in my element. It’s second nature. I can move through these things with my eyes closed.” He turned his head toward her. “Then there you were.”
A shiver raced through her system, halting her breath for a hot second. She didn’t respond. She couldn’t.
“And no...I don’t say that to all the girls,” he said, with a wink and a smile that loosened the knot in her throat.
“That’s what all the boys say,” she teased back.
“Touché.”
They pulled onto the property of The Port.
“I’m on the end. At the top of the ridge.”
Connor made the turn and continued on the short winding road.
“It’s the one on the right.”
He pulled up in front of her cottage and cut the engine.
Olivia’s pulse kicked up a notch.
Connor opened his door and came around to open hers. He took her hand to help her to her feet. Only air separated them when she stood. She was forced to look up or stare at the three opened buttons of his black shirt. Staring into the dark depths of his eyes was worse. She felt as if she was falling until his arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her flush against him. Then the world disappeared. The hard lines of his body met her curves, and then he kissed her. Whatever sense she’d had of standing on solid ground was gone.
Olivia hungered after the pillow-soft yet firm feel of his luscious lips. The lingering sweet heat from his drink lingered on his mouth. Her tongue peeked out to take just a small taste, which set off a low rumble in his throat. His fingers pressed into the curve of her spine. Then, just as quickly as it had happened, it ended.
Connor took a step back, braced her waist with his hands. He tilted his head toward her front door. “You should go inside.” His voice was so low, so deep and ragged that it reverberated inside her.
Olivia nodded. She stepped out of his light hold, walked around him and toward her front door. She took a look over her shoulder. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Tuesday. Eight.” He got back in his car, waited for her to step inside and then pulled off.
Olivia closed the door behind her, rested her back against the door and squeezed her eyes shut. She licked the taste of him off her bottom lip. “Connor Lawson. Damn, damn, damn.”
Chapter 2 (#ulink_16b10c78-e048-5a30-809a-14e4fc556542)
Olivia puttered around her cottage the following morning while reviewing her notes on the locations that she wanted to begin working on. One of them was just outside Azurest in a small enclave called Dayton Village. The schematics that she had of the landscape suggested it had been uninhabited for years. The few buildings that were left had been vacant for quite some time. According to the county clerk, the land still belonged to the descendants of the Dayton family, though none of them had lived in Sag Harbor for decades.
She packed up her laptop, her notes and camera and headed out, but decided to make a quick stop at the spa. Layla was Connor’s cousin-in-law; perhaps she might have some insight into the intriguing Connor Lawson.
For the better part of her night Olivia had dreamed of him, felt his touch as clearly as if he was in the room with her. And the kiss. It still had her hot simply thinking of it and the way he’d made her feel.
However, Olivia didn’t put much stake in anything long-term. If it wasn’t related to her work, she didn’t invest in anything that would involve her commitment. Long ago she’d had the rude awakening that feelings were only temporary—that relationships were only temporary, and to want more than that was foolish. So she’d built her emotional fortress, moved from place to place, relationship to relationship, job to job. Roots were things that she searched for, but never experienced in her own life. That was fine with her. She’d come to accept that this disconnect was her life. So as far as Connor Lawson was concerned, he was a hot, sexy man who could stir her pot, and when her project was over she would move on and so would he. That was just the way it was.
She put her laptop and camera in the trunk of her car, then drove the short distance from her cottage to the main building on the off chance that Layla had an opening in her schedule. When Olivia arrived, one of the first people that she ran into was Desiree, who was heading to the parking lot on her way into town.
“Hey, Olivia.” She pulled her shades from her eyes. “You’re up early.”
“Wanted to get a jump on the day. And thanks again for inviting me to the party. I had a great time.”
“Not a problem. Glad you could come. So—” she lifted a brow “—how did it go with Connor?” She gave her a cheeky grin.
Damn. The mere mention of his name did things to her. For an instant Olivia’s thoughts scrambled, then settled. “Um, fine.”
“Just fine?”
She adjusted her tote bag on her shoulder. “Well, we are getting together for drinks and dinner on Tuesday.”
Desiree clapped her hands in delight. “Go ’head, girl. Women have been sniffing around that man from the instant he set foot in town and he has yet to give them anything more than that sexy smile and conversation.”
Olivia’s heart tumbled in her chest. “Really,” she said casually.
“Yep. So you must have produced a spark. Anyway, I’ve got to run.”
“Sure, go, go. I wanted to drop in at the spa and see if there were any openings for a quick massage.”
Desiree gave her a knowing look. “Oh, you mean with Connor’s cousin Layla.”
“They’re cousins?” she asked with feigned surprise.
Desiree chuckled. “I’m sure Layla would be happy to tell you anything you wanted to know about her bachelor cousin, except that she and Maurice are in New York for the next two weeks working on Maurice’s foundation for wounded soldiers. That’s why they weren’t at the party last night.”
Olivia’s shoulders drooped.
“But if you can’t wait to find out on your own, Melanie Harte knows all. And she would love to think that once again she was involved in a love connection.” Desiree grinned and patted Olivia’s arm.
“Thanks. I think I’ll wait.”
“Good move. Anyway, gotta go. See you soon. Okay?”
“Sure thing. And thanks.”
Desiree hurried away and Olivia returned to where she’d parked her car. So much for that brilliant idea. But it was just as well. She didn’t want to come across as one of “those women” that did recon work on a man. That wasn’t her style. Mostly, she had a short list of criteria for the attributes of the men she allowed in her life: good looks and intelligence, and not looking for or expecting a commitment. So far, Connor Lawson fit the bill to a T, not to mention that they both had plenty in common from their chosen fields of work. She slid behind the wheel of her car and turned the key. In truth, what else did she need to know? Whatever might happen between them would last only as long as her assignment anyway. It was best that her knowledge remained superficial. The less you knew, the less you could be drawn into the life and wants and dreams and desires of someone else. She didn’t need that, didn’t want it and couldn’t give it. She reserved those energies for her work and that was it.
* * *
Connor had been up before sunrise. Since moving to Sag Harbor he’d become addicted to rising before daybreak and running along the beach until the sun fully crested the horizon. The sensation of one man being that in tune with nature was indescribable. It gave him a rush that was close to orgasmic. It was his time. His alone time when he cleansed his head and his spirit.
But while he was running, for the first time, he wanted to share the experience with someone, and Olivia flashed in his head. He didn’t know why, but he felt deep in his gut that she would appreciate the experience as much as he did, without him having to explain.
Most of the night he’d thought about Olivia, reimagined what she’d felt like when he’d touched her, what she’d tasted like when he’d kissed her. It wasn’t often that a single encounter with an attractive woman kept him in a state of randy heat. It was ridiculous how many times he’d had to think of trucks instead of the hot spot between her legs. And if he didn’t get his head in the game, he would waste an entire morning musing on “what if.”
Today, he and his small crew were working on what had once been the main house in the small settlement. According to documents, the home was the first one built and was the largest, so that it could accommodate the new settlers until they were able to build places of their own.
Connor got out of his truck and trotted down the small incline to where the workers were gathered to talk about the day’s assignment. Jake Thornton was his foreman and closest thing to a best friend. He was explaining to the crew what Connor wanted accomplished when Connor joined them.
“Morning, guys,” Connor greeted the ten-man crew, and adjusted his sunglasses against the morning glare. “I know Jake got you all up to speed. We have a lot to achieve today. Forecast is for a late-afternoon storm. We need to work fast and efficiently.” He turned to Jake. “How’s the roof?”
“I have the roofers coming in about noon. I need them to do as much as they can as fast as they can. We can’t afford water damage at this stage of the reno. Worst case is we’ll use what tarp we have if the rains come before they get here.”
Connor nodded. “Okay.” He turned his intense focus on his team. “Let’s get busy. We’ll break for lunch at noon when the roofers arrive.”
Connor and Jake broke away from the team and walked over to Jake’s Ford truck. “How was that thing up on the hill last night?” Jake asked as he tapped a Newport cigarette from the pack and tucked it between his lips. He dug a lighter from his pocket and lit the end.
“You know how those things are. Lot of fancy.” He chuckled. “Good food, great drinks, long legs.” He laughed again and leaned back against the side of the truck. He crossed his arms. “Met this woman last night.”
Jake gave a side glance, raised his chin and blew a puff of smoke into the air. “And...”
Connor searched around for words. “Nice. She’s an anthropologist working on a research project. Ancestry of the original families here.”
Jake’s brow lifted. “Hmm. Right up your alley.”
Connor shrugged with indifference. “Just business. Two ships passing in the night, as the saying goes.”
“Works for me.” Jake dropped the butt of his cigarette on the ground and crushed it out with the heel of his construction boot.
“Taking her to dinner on Tuesday,” Connor added, not quite ready to let the conversation wind down.
“Oh, now, that’s news.” His friend angled his long frame toward Connor. “She must be impressive if she got you to ask her to dinner.”
“She’s different.” He still couldn’t put his finger on what it was about Olivia that had him rethinking his usual game plan.
“Must be. The waiting line was long. I had my money on Lydia.” Jake laughed.
Connor flashed him a look of total disbelief. “Lydia.” He shook his head. “Not in a million years. Definitely not my type.”
“Couldn’t tell her that.” Jake laughed again and pushed away from the truck. “I’ll have to meet this Olivia,” he said as they walked back toward the work site.
“Just two ships, man. Two ships.”
“If you say so.” He clapped Connor on the back.
To think that it could be more than temporary was a big mistake. It always was. Dina, Mya, Lynn, Sybil... The list was long and diverse. A different woman for a different city, a different job. It simply went with the territory. Then once they found out who he was, who his family was, the speed of “love” went from zero to one hundred in the blink of an eye.
He almost resented his family name and legacy at times, which only fueled the bad blood between him and his father. So rather than fight what had become the inevitable spiral of his relationships, he kept them brief and emotion-free. Many women thought it was arrogance or privilege that wafted around him like a protective shield. In truth it was self-preservation. When he decided that he was ready to open himself up to the possibility of something real, the woman had to be damned spectacular.
Then along had come Adrienne... He shook the memory away. His thoughts drifted to Olivia Gray.
“What are you grinning about?”
Connor blinked and Jake came into focus. He clapped Jake on the back. “Nothing, man. Let’s get to work.”
Connor soon became immersed in his work and the images and stirring thoughts of Olivia drifted into the backdrop of his day. The team had been working steadily, hauling away debris and shoring up weak foundations, when the roofers finally arrived.
“And not a minute too soon,” Jake said, glancing skyward.
Overstuffed clouds lumbered along the skyline and shifted their appearance from dull white to dove gray. Beyond the crest of the horizon a line of ominous darkness pushed across the water and above the trees.
“Tell the guys to pack it up. Let the roofers do their thing. I’ll stay and make sure that we don’t get a washout,” Connor said.
“My sentiments exactly.” Jake turned to go round up the men.
Connor rolled up the blueprints, but his attention was drawn toward the sound of another car coming their way. He lifted his work goggles from his eyes. The auto summiting the rise came into view. He’d expected that it would be the roofers, but clearly, the Range Rover was not carrying the crew.
The car came to a stop and the driver shut the engine.
“Probably another tourist,” Jake said. “I’ll get rid of them.” He started toward the car. Connor stopped him with a firm grip on his forearm.
Olivia stepped out of the car and gazed around before spotting Connor.
“You go ahead. I’ll take care of it.” He shoved his goggles into his shirt pocket, took off his work gloves and began walking toward Olivia.
As he drew closer he realized that his pulse was racing. He was in excellent physical shape and the short walk up the incline should have had no bearing on his heart rate.
“Hey,” he said, stopping in front of her. “What are you doing here?”
“Hi. We were so busy talking around our current projects I never made the connection that we could possibly be working on the same job.”
Connor frowned in bemusement. “Same job?” He angled his head to the side.
Olivia dug in her carryall and pulled out a sheaf of documents. “Unless there’s another Dayton Village, I’m in the right place.” She flipped through a couple pages and then showed him the paperwork detailing her assignment.
“You’re definitely in the right place.” He handed her back the documents. “I’m just the lowly rehab guy. Why would anyone bother to tell me? You’re the doc.”
Olivia inwardly flinched at the jab. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He flipped her a half grin. “Nothing at all. We were getting ready to wrap up. Storm’s coming.”
Olivia glanced skyward as if she had to confirm what he said for herself.
“Hey, boss,” Jake said, coming up alongside Connor. “We’re done. The roofers can take it from here.” He eyed Olivia.
“Thanks.” He lifted his chin in her direction. “Jake, this is Dr. Olivia Gray.”
Jake’s eyes momentarily widened, but he held his tongue. He extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Gray.”
“You, too,” she murmured.
“We’ll be seeing much more of Dr. Gray. Apparently she’s been assigned to research the site.” He shoved his hands into his pants pockets.
A bang of thunder boomed in the heavens, punctuating Connor’s comment.
“Oh. Well, if you have any questions...” Jake let the comment hang in the charged air. “I’m going to head out, boss. See you in the a.m.”
“Yeah. Tomorrow.”
Jake walked away and headed for his car.
The sky grew ominously dark.
Connor faced Olivia just as the first plop of rain fell. “I’m going to wait for the roofers to finish,” he said dismissively.
“You want to tell me what bug got up your ass?” she retorted.
Connor was so stunned that he almost laughed. He never would have thought that Olivia Gray would drop the lady decorum and show this side of herself. She had a spicy tongue. Although he really shouldn’t be surprised. He’d felt it last night. Tasted it. Behind the cultured talk and proper attitude was a woman on simmer, right below the surface. The instant he’d kissed her, he’d known.
Connor flexed his hard jaw. “Bug up my ass? Hmm.” He snorted a laugh. “Let’s say that I don’t like surprises and you...were a surprise.” The last woman who’d been on one of his reno sites had tried to turn his project into her own personal HGTV reality show when she’d shown up on-site with a camera crew. He’d nearly lost his own crew in that fiasco, along with his credibility—since he’d been sleeping with her.
Olivia drew in a breath and slowly exhaled. “I’m as surprised as you are. I had no idea this was the rehab project you were working on.” Her eyes cinched at the corner. “Do you think I was trying to undermine you in some way...because of last night? Some kind of dumb setup?”
She’d read him like an open book. “The thought briefly ran through my head.”
“You have got to be kidding,” she said, enunciating every word.
His right brow flicked but he didn’t respond.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Mr. Lawson. I’m a professional. I don’t need to wheedle my way into any situation to get what I want. And I certainly don’t need the all clear from you to do my job.”
The rain had gone from a plop to a sprinkle.
He held his hands up, palms facing her. “If you say so.”
Her shoulders tightened, as did her expression.
“There aren’t many people that I run into that don’t want something. There’s always some agenda.” His dark, haunted eyes moved by degrees across her face.
“Every now and then, Mr. Lawson,” she said softly, “there’s an exception to your rule.”
The rain came down harder.
He shifted his weight to relieve the sudden throb in his pants. “I have to wait for the roofers to finish,” he repeated, as if the statement would send her on her way.
Thunder rumbled like the stomach of a starving man.
“Do you mind if I wait with you? I’d like to take a look around.” She wiped water from her face.
He knew damned good and well that was a very bad idea. But what the hell. If they had to work together they may as well be cordial. “Sure. Come on before we really get drenched.” He took her arm and hustled her down the ridge to the main building. “And maybe you can call me Connor again,” he shouted over the roll of thunder.
“We’ll see, Mr. Lawson,” she teased, as they ran like children chased by the bolts of lightning that lit up the early afternoon sky.
Connor chuckled to himself as he pushed open the door. She would. If he wasn’t sure about anything else today, he was sure of that.
The interior was dark, more so because of the lack of sunlight. Olivia shook off the water while Connor turned on the generator that lit the lights.
“No place like home,” he joked as dirt and dust swirled in the air and settled.
Olivia wiped water from her face and looked around. Immediately she was thrown back in time. She could feel the spirits of the ancestors who had found their new lives and freedom within these walls. The energy was palpable. She wrapped her arms around her body and slowly walked around, taking in as much as she could in the muted light. She ran her hand along the scarred oak mantel of the hearth, the frames of the makeshift windows, the warped wood of the walls.
Connor closely watched the awe move in slow waves across Olivia’s face, the wonder in her eyes. He knew what she was feeling. He’d been there, felt it whenever he worked on a project like this.
She spun toward him. “This place is amazing.” Her eyes were wide as she lifted her gaze to the rafters of the cabin. “The write-ups and diagrams do it no justice. I can’t wait to get started. How many buildings have you worked on so far?”
“We’ve done mostly shoring-up work. The structures are pretty worn and weak from water damage, rot and age. Before we can do any restoration we have to make sure the structures are stable.”
“Of course,” she said in a faraway voice, while she continued to explore. “There’s so much history here that’s not visible to the naked eye.”
Connor leaned casually against the wall. He folded his arms. “What had you planned on doing first?”
Olivia focused on him. She exhaled slowly. “I’d like to examine anything that has been left behind—chairs, boxes, cabinets, bedding, old clothing, photos, papers, draperies, all the artifacts. Pretty much any and everything beyond the actual structures. What I want to do is to begin to build a picture, piece together the story of this community and try to match it up with any written documentation.”
Connor grinned. “My job is so much easier than yours.”
She returned his smile. “This is the fun part—the hunt, the discovery.” She walked to the far side of the room. “Mind if I take some pictures?” She already had her camera out before he had a chance to respond.
“What if I’d said no?”
Olivia peeked at him from above the camera lens and clicked. “And why would you do that?” she teased in a singsong voice.
Connor chuckled to himself. This woman was the real thing. She may have been taking pictures, but so was he. He studied her; visually strolled along the dips and curves of her lithe body, memorized the way the dim light lit a honey-tinged fire in her eyes. The energy that wafted from her was an aphrodisiac that whetted his hunger. He shifted his body weight and shoved his hands into his pockets. She bent down to get a snapshot and he took a picture of her luscious rear end. Deep in his chest he hummed in appreciation, and clenched his jaw to keep from groaning out loud. What he wanted to do was snatch her up in his arms and take her breath away with a real kiss, not like the preliminary one of last night.
The sudden blare of a honking horn brought them both up short.
“Must be my roofers needing something. Be right back.” He brushed by her on the way out and caught a whiff of scent that nearly stopped him in his tracks. He pulled open the door and stepped out into a steady rainfall.
* * *
Once he was gone, Olivia dared to breathe. Her heart pounded and her fingers trembled. She leaned against the wall and momentarily closed her eyes. If there was the slightest thought in her head that working side by side with Connor Lawson was going to be easy, she was dead wrong. Her thoughts were in a jumble when he was in her airspace. It was a wonder she uttered anything that made sense. Crazy. This was so unlike her. But there was something about Connor from the moment she’d laid eyes on him that had unsettled her way down to the essence of her being. Clearly she couldn’t do her job if she didn’t get her head in the game. Maybe she should just go to bed with him and get it out of her system. Both of their systems—because she knew he felt the same way.
She ran her fingers through her damp hair. Yes, that was what she’d do. Screw his brains out and then she could think clearly.
The door pushed open. Connor stood in the doorway with the darkened sky as his backdrop, and the raw, animal energy that pushed out of his pores was palpable. His shirt was soaked and clung to the hard outline of his chest, the concave slope of his belly. She wouldn’t look any farther. She didn’t dare.
Connor wiped water from his face. “It’s getting pretty messy out there. I need to hang around until they’re done with the emergency work. You should probably head on out.”
To Olivia’s ears he didn’t sound very convincing about why she should leave. Her heart thumped and thumped. “Um, how long do you think they’ll be?”
“An hour, maybe less. They’re working fast. Fortunately they got started just before it really started coming down. Now it’s a matter of securing what they’ve put up.”
“I’m not really in a hurry.” She gave a slight shrug of her left shoulder.
He hesitated for a moment, weighed the options. “I guess I could show you some of the other structures if you don’t mind getting wet.”
“Not at all.”
“Come on. I’ll show you where the property begins...at least where we think it does.” He walked to the door and held it open.
Olivia gathered her things, stuck her camera back in her bag and walked toward him. She stopped in the doorway and was reminded once again of the pure virility of the man when the top of her head brushed beneath his chin and her shoulder came in contact with the rock hard chest. Tremors skittered along her spine and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
Connor snatched up an umbrella that was leaning against the wall, stepped out and popped it open. “Don’t want you to get too wet.”
Olivia licked away the retort with a swipe of her tongue. She was already wet in ways that he could only imagine. “Thanks,” she said instead, and ducked under the offered shelter, closing the space between them.
Connor guided her along the roughed-out path that led to a row of what could barely be called buildings. They were the equivalent of children’s drawings, sitting at odd angles due to years of the makeshift foundations sinking into the ground. Doors were askew or missing altogether. Some structures reminded her of Halloween jack-o-lanterns, with dark cutouts for the missing windows and gouged-out ragged steps that appeared to laugh at the observers. But Olivia knew that the exterior was only the pathway to hidden treasures beyond the weather-beaten walls.
They stopped at the roofers’ truck.
“We should be done in about another twenty minutes or so, Mr. Lawson,” the foreman said. “Your men did a good job of getting the temporary tarp up. We’re finishing with the sealing and checking for leaks. When you’re ready we’ll be back for something more permanent.”
“Thanks, Bobby. Oh, this is Dr. Olivia Gray. She’s doing some research so you may run into her again.”
Bobby tugged off his glove and stuck out his hand. “Pleasure. What kind of doctor?”
“Anthropologist.”
A cloud of confusion moved across his face, which was crisscrossed with lines from years of working under the beating sun. “Sounds important.”
Olivia smiled. “Nice to meet you.”
Connor cupped Olivia’s elbow and guided her toward another of the buildings.
“Watch yourself coming up the steps,” he warned. He extended his hand to help her and sent a jolt of something tingly racing up her arm when his fingers wrapped around hers.
Olivia sidestepped a gaping hole and hopped up the last step. Connor opened the door.
The interior was dim, the barest hint of light inching through a sliver of space between the slatted wood walls. The odd shapes of old furnishings draped in sheets and dust cast cartoonish images on the walls and hard-packed dirt floor.
Connor flipped a switch and the portable floodlight pushed soft white light into the space, throwing every object into sharp relief.
Olivia’s eyes adjusted and she was instantly taken back hundreds of years. In the corner, the old wood-burning stove still held the huge cast-iron pot waiting to be filled. Spectral images moved around the square room, carrying wood, sweeping the floors, laughing, kissing, arguing. Children played and babies cried.
Olivia jumped when Connor touched her arm. She blinked and it was only the two of them.
“You okay?”
She swallowed and focused on his expression of concern, the way his sleek dark brows drew close. That was when she realized that her heart was racing. “Yes. Fine. This all feels a bit surreal.”
He pushed out a breath. “I know exactly what you mean. I felt the same way the first time I came into this room. I felt a presence, a warmth.”
“Exactly!” She wouldn’t tell him that she swore she’d seen images of the former inhabitants. She didn’t what him to think that she was crazy. She didn’t want to think that she was crazy. “It’s all so amazing.” She walked around the space, ran her hand along the knobby wood, stooped down to get a better look at the stone hearth.
Connor stepped back into the shadows of the room to better watch her movements. He leaned against the wall, studied the precision and economy of everything that she did and wondered what she would be like under his touch. Would she forego her efficiency and take her time, let him take his time? He didn’t want her perfect. He wanted her raw and real, no holds barred.
The sound of clicking and soft flashes of light snapped him to attention.
“Hope you don’t mind,” Olivia said, as she moved fluidly around the space, snapping photos. “Couldn’t resist.” She swung around in his direction and took three pictures in rapid succession. She lowered the camera and smiled at him. “Now you’re a part of history.”
Connor chuckled. He took a step toward her. The shout of his name, along with the sound of knocking, stopped him. His jaw reflexively tightened. He turned to the door and pulled it open.
The roofer stepped in out of the rain. “All done, Mr. Lawson.” He wiped the water from his face. “Sealed everything. It should hold you until we can get in and do the real work that’s needed.”
“Good.” Connor nodded his head. “Thanks for coming out on such short notice, Bobby.” He stuck out his hand, enclosing the smaller hand of the roofer in a firm grip.
“Anytime.”
“Let’s take a quick look at what got done before your crew heads out.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Lawson.” He stepped back outside.
Connor turned toward Olivia. “Ready?”
“Sure.” She put her camera back in her tote and hoisted it onto her right shoulder.
Connor took the umbrella from the corner and handed it to Olivia. He turned off the floodlight and everything was momentarily reduced to memory. Connor pushed open the door and she saw his silhouette return, flush against the dull gray afternoon.
Olivia opened the umbrella and gingerly inched around the hole in the step and down onto solid ground. Connor followed, then ducked beneath the umbrella, reflexively scooping his arm around her waist. It was intimate, cocooned together, shielded from the elements and separated from the world around them.
She forced herself to concentrate on not tumbling into some unseen ditch, rather than the heat and soap-and-water scent of Connor’s body, which was barely a breath away from hers.
“What’s on your agenda for the rest of the day?” Connor asked as he gently guided her down the short incline toward her parked car.
Olivia cleared her throat. “I have some research to do. I need to review all of my notes and start mapping out a workable schedule.”
“When will you be back?”
“I’m hoping as soon as tomorrow.” It was part question, part statement. She quickly glanced at his rugged profile, his jaw outlined in a well-trimmed five-o’clock shadow.
They stopped in front of her vehicle.
He faced her. “Hopefully we won’t get in each other’s way.” His gaze held her fixed to the spot.
Olivia held her breath, certain that he was going to kiss her. She wanted him to.
Thunder slowly rolled across the heavens.
Connor reached around her and opened the door. “Give me a call when you’re on your way.”
A wave of disappointment swam through her. She blinked it away and smiled. “Sure.” She slid in behind the wheel. Her eyes rolled up to him and suddenly everything disappeared as he leaned down and covered her mouth with his. Only for an instant, but long enough to reawaken the taste of him, heat her in the center of her belly. Then it was over, but her heart still raced.
“Drive safely.” He stroked her cheek with the barest tip of his finger. “Talk to you tomorrow.”
Olivia swallowed and ran her tongue along her bottom lip. All she could do was nod her head in agreement.
Connor shut her door and stepped back.
Olivia fumbled with the key, finally got it in the ignition and turned on the car. When she looked out her window, Connor was halfway across the grounds and soon disappeared behind one of the buildings.
Chapter 3 (#ulink_43b7d558-9cb8-5c92-9aea-eb548fcab3e8)
Connor returned to the makeshift office, took off his wet jacket and hung it on a hook behind the door. For a moment he shut his eyes and drew in a long, deep breath. He shouldn’t have let her go. He should have invited her to...something, whatever it took to keep her with him a bit longer.
He shook his head. Crazy. Losing his grip over some woman that he barely knew? What was that about? His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out. It was a call from Jake.
“Hey, Jake. What’s up?”
“Just checking. The roofers done?”
“Yeah, they left a little while ago. Everything looks good. We should be okay.”
“Great. Listen, me and some of the fellas are in town catching a few beers and the game.”
Connor didn’t make it a habit of hanging out with his crew. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy their company. It was more that he was mindful of crossing the line from employer to friend. But today he didn’t feel like being in his own company. To do that would keep him under the spell of whatever it was that Olivia Gray had cast over him. Maybe a roomful of male testosterone fueled by beer guzzling and cussing, and further incited by the sight of bodies crashing into each other on the field, was what he needed.
“Yeah, yeah, I think I will. Everyone at McCoy’s?”
“Back room.”
Connor chuckled. “A regular party. See you in a few.” He disconnected the call and was actually looking forward to some male bonding.
* * *
By the time Connor arrived at McCoy’s the weather had somewhat cleared. At least the rain had stopped, but it left behind a misty residue that hung waiflike above the town. Connor found a parking spot in the lot behind the bar, then joined the crew inside.
The back room of McCoy’s was about the size of a small classroom. A fifty-inch television was mounted on the paneled wall, wooden circular tables with spindle-backed chairs dotted the plank-wood floor and in the far corner was a jukebox with nothing more current than hits from the eighties.
McCoy’s prided itself on the bare essentials of its establishment. What it lacked in ambience it made up for with some of the best wings, ribs, steaks and burgers this side of the Mississippi, and drinks that could lay you on your ass, not like the watered-down stuff at some of the higher-end restaurants. McCoy’s was a sports pub through and through.
“Connor, over here.” Jake stood and waved him over to a back table.
Connor acknowledged the faces he knew with a lift of his chin as he passed by. The room was in full swing and the one waitress that was assigned to the space had her hands full keeping up with the orders. He made his way around the tables and pulled up a chair.
“First things first,” Connor said as he sat down. “What’s the score and how long will it take to get a drink?”
The table of five laughed heartily and brought Connor up to speed on the game. They were split down the middle between the Giants and the Redskins. There was money and booze on the table. It could go either way. Connor tossed his hat in with the Giants, ordered a bourbon neat and a burger with all the trimmings.
Jake scooted his chair a bit closer. “So how’d it go?” he asked, loud enough for Connor to hear but not their tablemates.
Connor glanced at him over the rim of his glass. “Told you. Fine. We’re good to go for tomorrow.”
“You know I wasn’t talking about the roofers.” His right brow arched.
Connor chuckled. “That went fine, too, or as fine as it could go under the circumstances.”
“To tell you the truth, I kinda thought the two of you would have been together right about now. Although I was hoping not, at least not until her agenda is clear,” he added, with a look that spoke to the last woman on the site. “Didn’t expect you to accept the invite.”
Connor took a sip of his bourbon, let it slowly warm his insides. “You were almost right.” He stared off into the distance. A glimmer of a smile teased the corners of his mouth. “We’ll see,” he said, and tossed back the rest of his drink while dismissing the subject of Olivia Gray.
* * *
Olivia pulled the belt on her robe a bit tighter, turned off the flame beneath the pot of boiling water, then poured it over her chamomile tea bag. She took her cup to the table where she’d spread out her notes. Settling in, she slowly glanced over the pages of documents and the sketches of what was once Dayton Village. She powered on her MacBook and scrolled to the images she’d uploaded earlier. It was still very early in the process but she could barely contain the excitement that bubbled in her veins. There was something different about this, a feeling she had that whatever she uncovered would change her in some way. It was a ridiculous notion, of course, but she couldn’t shake it. She’d done dozens and dozens of these investigative projects, and yes, there was always a level of excitement—anticipation...but...
The picture that she’d shot of Connor leaning against the wall came to life on her computer screen, and her heart jumped in response. There was no doubt that Connor Lawson added another dimension to the work. The idea of working with him over the days and weeks to come felt like sitting at the top of a roller coaster waiting for the crazy thrill ride. Seeing Connor forever captured on film stirred the embers of that first night, when he’d taken her home, kissed her, left her wanting more.
Olivia closed her eyes against the taunt of his hard outline and returned her attention to her notes. One of the first things that she needed to do was photograph the entire site. She would compare those images to the diagrams and then begin her interviews and study the artifacts on the site. Often the tiniest remain would hold a wealth of information. Her pulse quickened at the thought of the treasures that she was sure to uncover. Having Connor Lawson in her peripheral vision was a bonus.
She sipped her tea and flipped through her binder. She stopped on the articles that documented the first family of Dayton Village. According to historical documents, Elijah and Sarah Dayton arrived from Virginia at the turn of the century. Both Elijah and Sarah were born into slavery, a year before the Emancipation. Based on the minimal information at Olivia’s disposal, the couple had several children, all of whom they raised in Dayton Village. Not much more was known about them. At some point others found their way to the village and built new lives there.
Olivia’s thoughts wandered, envisioning the time, the early days when Dayton Village first began, the excitement and uncertainty that must have permeated everything and everyone. She could almost feel the hope of the people who’d come there so many years ago wanting to build a life on the shoulders of freedom. She could only imagine what it must have been like for the thousands of Africans torn from their homeland, doomed to a life of slavery and degradation, to one day be free. It meant different things to so many people. As the legendary conductor Harriet Tubman once said, “I freed hundreds of slaves and could have freed hundreds more if they knew they were slaves.”
That very powerful statement resonated within Olivia like none other. How can people know where they can go, what they can achieve and the possibilities that await, if they don’t know who they are in the world—what was their purpose?
It was not happenstance that of all the professions to choose from, Olivia decided to study anthropology. She was led in that direction because her own life was riddled with missing pieces, inconsistencies and half-truths. If she couldn’t construct the foundation of her own truth, then she would do it for others.
Her cell phone vibrated on the countertop. She smiled at the Bach ring tone that was attributed to Dr. Victor Randall, her supervisor and on again, off again lover.
Olivia pressed the green phone icon. “Victor, checking up on me?” She leaned against the backrest of the chair.
“Yes.” He chuckled. “How are things—and you, of course?”
“Well, I had a chance to briefly visit the site yesterday, but the weather was against us. I did get some photographs and...I met with the developer in charge of the restoration work.”
“Connor Lawson.”
Olivia beat back the sudden uptick of her heart. She drew in a breath. “Uh, yes, as a matter of fact.”
“Hmm. Heard good things about his work. It’s really important that you two work hand in hand. Not only do we want to get the history of Dayton Village, but it’s going to be up to you to ensure that the restoration keeps in line with your findings.”
Olivia frowned. “Mr. Lawson doesn’t seem to be the kind of man that would appreciate outside direction on his project.”
“I’m not telling you to run his project. What I’m saying is that it’s imperative for our purposes to ensure that the restoration remains true to your findings. The site...is the only original community of freed slaves and Native American Indians on the Eastern Seaboard. I can’t impress upon you the significance of that. You are the eyes and ears. You are the one who must ensure that every detail is accurate.”
“I’ve been doing this for a long time, long enough to appreciate the significance without a reminder course.” She felt his hesitation before he responded.
“I didn’t mean to imply otherwise or to second-guess you. However, the grant is important, Liv. Plenty of eyes are watching. If we miss a step on this project we could potentially lose major funding across the board for the future. Not to mention that your five-year contract is up at the end of this project. I don’t have to tell you what that means.”
Olivia blew out a conciliatory breath. “I know.” The weight of her responsibility and her future curved her shoulders.
“I plan to come down in a couple of weeks,” Victor said.
Olivia flinched. “Why? I mean, sure, but...why?”
“The funders want a progress report and...I want to see you.”
Her stomach knitted. She looped her fingers around her mug, as she’d suddenly grown inexplicably cold. She brought the mug to her lips and took a sip. “Looking forward,” she finally said.
“I’ll only be able to stay a couple of days...but I hope we can spend some time together, catch up. It’s been too long.”
A filmstrip of their relationship played in front of her. Dr. Victor Randall could have easily had any woman that he wanted. He was a brilliant scientist with magazine looks, and a personality that was a mixture of charm and sensuality. They’d met about four years earlier when Olivia had first come to work at The Institute. He became her mentor, then her lover, then her supervisor. They’d both agreed that neither of them wanted or needed anything permanent. When Victor got his promotion, they’d tempered their personal relationship, and over time their intimacy moved further into the background, morphing into what it was today—purely platonic as far as Olivia was concerned. Even though she’d made it crystal clear that nothing could happen between them, there were instances when Victor seemed to have forgotten.
“It has,” she finally responded, her voice noncommittal. “Um, just let me know when.”
“I will.” He paused. “Is everything all right, Liv? You sound...odd.”
She pushed away thoughts of Connor and Victor in the same space, with her in the middle. “No. I’m fine. Looking over some notes and thinking about your visit.” She heard him exhale.
“Good. I’ll be in touch soon.”
“Take care, Victor.” She disconnected the call and slowly placed the phone on the counter. She stared off across the kitchen. Maybe having Victor come for a visit was a necessary complication. Connor Lawson would only wind up being “another one,” and she wasn’t sure if that was all she wanted. Victor’s presence would erect the barrier she needed to prevent that from happening.
Olivia turned off her computer and stuck her loose pages back into the binders. It was nearly ten. She was sure that the workers at the site would be in full swing by now. She would need access, but she didn’t want to get in the way. Unfortunately, she and Connor hadn’t discussed a working schedule. She hopped down from the chair. There was no time like the present.
* * *
After getting dressed in her typical workday outfit of jeans, white cotton blouse and ankle boots, she gathered her iPad, notebook, phone and camera and tossed them in her tote. She grabbed her lightweight leather jacket from the hook by the door and headed out.
Unlike the previous day, the forecast was for warm weather and blue skies. Signs of spring were everywhere, on the budding leaves and shimmering grass. The chirps of the winged ones that had begun to return from a winter hiatus carried the announcement of a new beginning.
Olivia rolled down her window and inhaled the freshly washed air; the sharp scents of wet grass and moist earth permeated her senses. On either side of the narrow two-lane road the small, neat homes stood like advertisements for a way of life that was foreign to city living.
Moments like these, and of course, the thrill of discovery, were the ingredients that fueled her, made all the traveling and often long, grueling hours worthwhile. Uncovering the history of people long forgotten and bringing them back to life for the world to see was an unending goal. It was all she had; it was who she was. There was a time in her life when that stark reality had stared her in the face and she’d been overcome by an unbearable sense of worthlessness. Over time, rather than reject or fight the one fact of her life that she could believe in, she’d embraced it.
Yet there were moments like now, as the homestead came into view, and she knew the buried secrets of some others’ past would soon be revealed, that she wanted more for herself for once.
Olivia cut the engine of the Range Rover, gathered her things and got out. She stood for a moment on the crest overlooking the worn structures and forgotten paths below. She pulled out her camera and took a series of shots of the work in progress to document the “before.” She put her camera away and cupped her hands around her eyes, blocking out the glare of the morning sun in hopes of spotting Connor among the men. Her heart double-timed with anticipation as she slowly descended the slope and made her way across the muddy ground and around the trucks and heavy equipment.
A tingle skittered along her spine. His voice. She heard him before she saw him. She turned to her right and caught sight of him climbing up onto the seat of a tractor. Halfway in he stopped, as if he’d heard something in the distance that told him to wait. Hanging on to the wheel, he swiveled his hard body in Olivia’s direction.
The only thing that moved was her lips, which parted ever so slightly to gather some air.
Connor jumped down, snatched his thick work gloves off his hands and jammed them into his back jeans’ pocket while he strode toward her.
Olivia clenched her fist, digging her nails into her palm. The mildly uncomfortable action snapped her back to the reality of where she was and why. She was not here to snatch this fine specimen of a man by his leather belt and haul him into one of these deserted buildings. That was not her assignment.
“Olivia,” he said in greeting, making her name sound like a hymn.
“I should have called or something, but I did want to get started. Maybe we can work out some kind of schedule.” She wished that she could see his eyes behind his dark shades.
The left corner of his lush mouth inched slightly upward. “It’s not a problem. Really. You can come...whenever you want.”
Her clit jumped at the double entendre.
“We can work out a schedule tomorrow night—at dinner.”
Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second, but it wasn’t lost on Connor.
“We’re still on...?”
“Yes. Sure. I’m looking forward to it,” Connor said.
He studied her for a moment from behind the shield of darkness. “So...where do you want to start?”
“Well, I thought I’d begin by matching up the drawings with the structures that are standing—do some sketches. Then, going forward, examining each of the buildings, the areas around them, checking for artifacts, note taking, more pictures.” She grinned. “Ideally, I need to get in before any major restoration is done. I’d also want to examine any debris.”
“Whatever you need.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll get Jake to take you around.”
Why was she disappointed? She forced a smile. “Great.”
“He’s on the other side. Follow me.”
Connor walked a step or two ahead of Olivia and she cataloged the confident, long-legged swagger that could part a crowd or the seven seas. She drew in a “get it together” breath and matched his pace.
“What time do you want me to pick you up?”
“Oh, um, seven, seven thirty.” She glanced at his profile.
Connor gave a bare nod, then lifted his chin. “Over this way.”
Jake was in the midst of reviewing the blueprints with one of the crew when Olivia and Connor walked up.
“Connor. Dr. Gray.” His greeting held a questioning note. He glanced from one to the other.
“Dr. Gray wants to get started with her research. We’ll work out some kind of schedule, but I told her that you’d give her the full tour in the meantime.”
A brief shadow of confusion passed over Jake’s face. He gave a slight shrug. “Sure.” He flashed a look at Connor, but couldn’t penetrate the dark lenses.
“When you’re done, come back to the main building,” Connor said, and strode off.
Olivia watched him leave and juggled the conflicting emotions that followed—dismissal, disappointment, uncertainty.
“Ready?”
Olivia blinked and turned her focus on Jake. “Yes.” She adjusted her tote on her shoulder and fell into step with him. “I hope this isn’t too much of an inconvenience.”
“Not at all. What the boss wants the boss gets. We can start up on the ridge and work our way down and across,” he quickly added, before Olivia could respond to the “boss” comment.
“Lead the way.”
“You do a lot of these, I suppose,” Jake said.
Olivia smiled. “I’ve had my share. You?”
“Working with Connor is a lot different from what I’d been doing.”
“What was that?”
“Basic construction work, apartments and office buildings mostly.”
“So...how did you and Connor meet?”
Jake slowed in front of a structure that was standing with a hope and a prayer. “Funny, seems as if I’ve known him all my life.” His brow knit. “We were at this bar in Harlem, Rhythms I think was the name. We had a few drinks, started talking and the next thing I knew I was saying yes to joining him on his next reno job. One job led to the next.” He shrugged. “Here we are.”
“He must be a very persuasive guy.”
Jake gave her a sidelong glance from midnight-blue eyes. “Very. Connor always finds a way to get what he wants.” He picked up a yellow hard hat that was stored on the outside of the building and handed it to Olivia. “Can’t be too careful.” He unhooked his own from his work belt and put it on his head. He held open the door of the cabin and Olivia stepped inside.
* * *
For the next two hours, Jake led her around the development, explaining the layout and functions of each of the structures and what, if any, work had been done, while Olivia photographed and took notes. In between she asked innocuous questions about Connor, which Jake seemed more than happy to answer.
* * *
“See everything you need?” Connor asked when Olivia and Jake approached. He wiped his moist forehead with the back of his hand. At some point he’d taken off his gray hoodie and was now wearing only a fitted gray T-shirt that was sticking to his damp torso.
Olivia licked her bottom lip and tore her gaze away from the expanse of his chest, but looking into his now exposed eyes was just as deadly. “Jake was extremely helpful.” She turned and flashed Jake a smile.
“Anytime. I’m gonna head back up the hill. The supplies came in. Need to check the inventory.”
“Sure. And thanks.” Connor focused on Olivia. He leaned against a mud-covered truck, crossed his feet at the ankle and stared at her, his gaze gently probing.
Olivia felt as if she was being caressed, but Connor was several feet away. Her skin tingled. She ran her hands up and down her arms.
“Cold?”
She shook her head. “Um, I’m going back to my place. I have a lot of work to do. Thanks for today.”
“I’ll walk you to your car.” He stepped up to her, then casually placed his hand at the dip of her back, as if it was something he was entitled to do, and the warmth of his hand and his self-assurance flowed through her.
Olivia allowed herself to be guided around the workmen and their big toys. When she and Connor reached her Range Rover, she faced him. “How many more hours?” she asked, lifting her chin toward the work site.
“Till about six.” He took a step. “I’d be in the mood for a drink about six thirty. Care to join me?” It sounded like a challenge.
“I...really have a lot to do...”
“No problem. If you change your mind, I’ll be at McCoy’s on Winston Street.” He tapped the side of her car and walked away before she had a chance to respond.
Olivia tugged the door open and got behind the wheel. She should have agreed. Instead, she pulled away and went home...to spend the evening alone.
Chapter 4 (#ulink_93938922-efda-55fb-90f0-152b2da48da3)
“So...what do you think of Connor Lawson?” Desiree asked. She stuck her fork in the chicken salad and took a mouthful.
Olivia took a sip of her tea. “He’s...nice enough.”
Desiree nearly choked. “Nice enough. You. Are. Kidding. Right?”
Olivia laughed. “What do you want me to say, Desi?”
“I saw the two of you together at the party. There was definitely chemistry.”
“I think you’re imagining things.”
“Hmm. And my name is Don’t Know Any Better.”
Olivia pushed out a feigned sigh. “Okay, okay, you twisted my arm. The man is fine. All caps. Sexy seeps from his pores and he’s smart. Lethal combination. Would I kick him out of my bed? I don’t think so,” she added with a grin. “We’re going to dinner tonight. So...we’ll see.” She gave a half shrug.
“That’s more like it. Where are you going?”
“I have no idea.” She picked up her chicken panino. “He didn’t say, just that he was going to pick me up between seven and seven thirty.”
Desiree leaned in. “Connor doesn’t date.”
“What?” Olivia frowned in confusion.
Desiree tilted her head to the side. “Connor is... How can I say this...”
“Just say it.”
Desiree pursed her lips a moment before responding. “He’s noncommittal. He may meet a woman at a party or a restaurant, but he doesn’t do the ‘date’ thing. At least not in all the time he’s been here.” Her brows rose for emphasis.
“So...what are you telling me...exactly?”
“I’m saying that I think he likes you.”
Olivia playfully rolled her eyes. “You’re reading waaay too much into a simple dinner.”
“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
* * *
After lunch at The Port with Desiree, Olivia treated herself to a mani-pedi, followed by a stop at the local boutique. The bulk of her wardrobe was jeans, T-shirts and one dress fit for a corporate meeting, not a date with the hottest guy in town. But since she had no idea where they were going or what was de rigueur, she opted for the can’t-go-wrong simple black dress with a cap sleeve, V-neckline that offered a hint of the gems beneath, and the hem just above her knees. The fabric was simple jersey that subtly cupped her curves. Her one pair of black dress shoes with a modest two-inch heel would do fine.
Olivia turned from side to side in front of the mirror and was pleased with her reflection, although she often wondered if she resembled anyone. Did she have her mother’s wide doe-shaped eyes or her father’s narrow nose? Whose genes had given her the tiny cleft in her chin? Was her nut-brown complexion a family trait? Did wild springy curls run in the family? As much as she wanted to stop asking the litany of questions, she never could. The answers were always out of her reach. She leaned forward and added a bit of bronze-toned lip gloss, then gave her naturally long lashes a couple of swipes of mascara.
Her cell phone shimmied across the dresser top. She snatched it up and pressed the green phone icon.
“Hello.”
“Hey. I should be to you in about ten minutes. Ready?”
“Just about. See you then.”
Olivia set the phone down and noticed that her hand was shaking every so slightly, as a warm flush, the kind you feel from good liquor, moved through her. She inhaled deeply, took her phone and keys from the dresser and dropped them both in her purse, smoothed her dress and then walked up front. For a few moments she practiced walking back and forth across the living room floor of her cottage rental. Walking and balancing in heels was a far cry from her sneakers and work shoes.
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