Dreams Don't Wait (Contemporary romance)

Dreams Don't Wait

by

EC Sheedy

writing as Carole Dean

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Copyright 1996, 2011 by Carole Dean. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

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Chapter 1

Evan North looked toward the restaurant entrance—again. Then she looked at her watch—again. Twelve-forty-five. She had to get back to work, and he wasn't here
yet.
Maybe he'd changed his mind. Maybe he wasn't coming. She wished it didn't matter either way, but, damn it, it did.
Where was the man?
Distractedly, she began a rhythmic tapping on the rim of her water glass.

"Evan, will you cut that out?"

"What?" Evan was mystified.

"That." Caressa Stewart nodded toward the tapping fingers. "You're starting to make
me
nervous."

"Sorry." Evan pulled back her hand and tucked it under the table, giving her blonde luncheon companion a quick smile as she did so.

When she started to chew on her lower lip, Caressa put her coffee down and gave an indulgent sigh. "What's the matter with you? He's my brother. I told you everything will work out, and it will," she said. "He may be stubborn, arrogant, and irritatingly unpredictable, not to mention that he has the temperament of a sick troll, but you don't have to worry about that."

"Thanks. I feel
so
much better now."

Caressa smiled and went back to sipping her coffee.

Evan twisted her napkin. "Anyway, how can I not be nervous? This is a genuine, gold-plated opportunity. There's no way I want to blow it. It's too important. Besides, it's not every day I sit in the poshest restaurant in Victoria waiting to meet the famous Lincoln Stewart."

Caressa made a gesture of dismissal with a well-manicured hand. "So he's designed a few buildings. I'd hardly call him famous."

"Caressa Stewart, you are the queen of understatement.
A few buildings?
Like in Paris, Brussels, Madrid, and Mexico City, not to mention he'll probably be selected to design that new office/theater complex on the Thames next year." Evan shook her head. " 'A few buildings,' the woman says."

Caressa paused before taking another drink of her lukewarm coffee. "How in hell do you know all that?"

"I Googled him," she admitted. "Plus, the architectural trades in the library are full of him."

"Still haunting libraries, I see. Wanted to make sure you weren't going to live with Jack the Ripper, huh?"

"Something like that. Besides, we're not sure yet that I
am
going to 'live with him,' as you so indelicately put it. He may not like me. You did say he's—"

"Hard to please, bad tempered, dominating, distrustful, and demanding? Yes, I did, and despite all that, you want the job."

"Remind me to tell your brother not to let you handle public relations for him."

Caressa shrugged her expensively suited shoulders before adding, "I calls 'em like I sees 'em. Besides, I want you to be prepared. Linc can be a... trial."

Evan was beginning to wonder if Caressa wasn't kidding about her brother's unruly temperament. Surely he couldn't be as hard to get along with as she made him out to be—not that it mattered. For all she cared, Lincoln Stewart could be first cousin to Attila the Hun. If she got what she wanted, she'd cope. Coping was something she was very, very good at.

"I
need
that cabin, Caressa," Evan said after a short pause. "Free rent for a year will go a long way towards Cal's tuition."

Evan knew she wouldn't understand. Neither she nor her famous brother had known a moment's want in their lives. They were born to money, then went on to forge highly successful careers that brought more of the same. Evan couldn't conceive of their world any more than they could hers.

"And for a little free rent, you're willing to take on Linc—and Jenny." Caressa cocked her head and gave her a direct gaze. "She could be a challenge, you know. She's a darling, but Linc does tend to indulge her. I don't know much about kids, but from what I see, Jen can be a handful."

"She's only four. She's probably just a normal, active little girl. And besides, I'm not going to be a full-time baby-sitter. Just back up. I'll handle it. No problem."
I'll handle anything for free rent and a chance for Cal to have his own room.
A man and his daughter? Piece of cake.

"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you. About Jenny—or Linc. I love them both madly, but—" Caressa's eyes shifted to a point behind Evan, and she lifted a hand to wave. "Get ready, honey. The man of the hour has arrived." Her gaze swung back to Evan. "And don't worry. That cabin is as good as yours. He's going to love you, you'll see."

As Caressa again waved to catch her brother's attention, Evan crossed her fingers under the table and closed her eyes. She wasn't averse to some silent begging now and then, when the cause was important. And nothing in the world was more important to her than Cal.

When the begging was done, she opened her eyes on Lincoln Tremayne Stewart.

She blinked. Talk about pictures not doing someone justice!

"I don't have a whole lot of time, Caressa, so let's get this over with. Is this her?" He took the chair beside his sister's and glanced across the table at Evan—into her would be more accurate. The look was sharp but careless, the eyes were deeply—intensely—blue. She blinked again.

Caressa rolled her eyes, then planted a light kiss on her brother's cheek.

A tanned, beautiful, clean-shaven cheek. This time she swallowed.

The Internet pic hadn't shown his dark gold hair and a face drawn from a woman's dream. His features were clear, bold, and except for the tenseness around his mouth, nearly perfect. He wore jeans and a soft navy blue sweater, and he sat in his chair as if he owned the restaurant. No. The entire city block.