Feisty (12 page)

“I need a beer,” Devon murmured.

As he sauntered up to the outside bar and stood in line, Reece walked up beside him. “I hear you’re leading the charge against the resort.”

“That’s not exactly what I said.”

“Maybe you could speak with Sahara before this gets out of hand. None of us want a resort here.”

“Really, Reece? You think what I have to say or want matters to Sahara?” Was everyone in this damn town blind? Sahara was big city. She came from money and making money was what they did best. “Why aren’t you having this conversation with her brother?”

Reece held up his hands in surrender. “Whoa. I thought—”

“She cares about what I think? About me?” His laughter held no humor. From behind him her voice caught his attention. He turned to see her chatting with her parents. “Look at her. Does she look like she belongs in Whispering Cove?”
With me?
That was the last thing he wanted to admit, because it meant even if they could work through this thing about the resort, their social differences still stood between them. “Screw this.” He stepped out of line. “I’m going home.”

Alone
, rang in his ears.

Sahara saw Devon heading toward his truck and refrained from running after him. Then again, who was she kidding? She got the message loud and clear as they stood before the altar and waited their turn to walk down the aisle. He hadn’t wanted to touch her, much less speak to her. The moment she had realized how much distance lay between them had nearly crushed her. She reached for the only mental tool left in her toolbox—her anger. She hadn’t meant to upset the whole damn town.

“Sahara?”

She blinked, her gaze meeting her mother’s. “Yes?”

“Are you sure you want to leave tonight?”

No. In reality she didn’t want to leave, not tonight—not ever. Still she inched her chin up. “There’s nothing to keep me here. Leo’s married. They’re heading off to the Bahamas tonight.”

Her father placed an arm around her and pulled her beneath the shelter of his body. “Are you riding with Leo and Sky?”

“Dad, I can’t do that.” There was plenty of room in the limousine the Wellingtons had arranged, but the new couple didn’t need her tagging along. “Besides, I have my rental. I’ll drive to Bar Harbor and drop the car off at the airport.”

“You could leave with us in the morning.” Her mother smiled softly. “Perhaps you should stay. Neal, Sandy and Jake won’t be leaving until Sunday. You could come back with them.”

How could Sahara explain to her parents it was too hard to stay in Whispering Cove? If it wasn’t Devon’s penetrating glares, it was the residents of this small coastal town whispering as she walked by. They hated her. She’d been in this situation before, but it hadn’t affected her like it did here. Of course, she hadn’t befriended half the town before her company had moved in on them.

“Honey, maybe you should talk to him.”

“Mom, he doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“I think you’re wrong. He’s had his eyes on you all night. I think he’s hurting as much as you are.”

“Sahara, maybe your mother is right.” Her father’s response shocked her. He was a fair man, but he’d pretty much frowned upon every man she’d ever brought home.

She glanced down at the watch she wasn’t wearing. “Wow. It’s getting late. It’s time for me to go.” She pivoted in her father’s arms and gave him a hug before moving to her mother.

Her mother squeezed her tightly. “Be safe, honey.”

“You too, Mom.”

After a quick good-bye with Sky and Leo, Sahara made her way to her car. She was glad she had the good sense to pack before she’d departed for the wedding. The sooner she left Whispering Cove the better. As she slipped behind the wheel of her car, a sense of grief overwhelmed her. Instead of giving way to the tears beating behind her eyelids, she started the engine and didn’t pause, putting the vehicle in gear.

Sahara kept it together as she drove through town, even when she passed the turnoff to Devon’s. But the second she looked into her rearview mirror and saw the lights of Whispering Cove blink out, she inhaled a shaking breath and the tears began to fall.

They were still falling when she pulled into the rental lot in Bar Harbor.

Chapter Eight

Devon released another heavy breath. Brooding over a woman was uncharacteristic of him. Usually it was out of sight out of mind, but he couldn’t stop thinking of Sahara. It had been a week since Sahara left Whispering Cove and it seemed like forever.

A yawn overtook him and he stretched before walking down the steps of his porch. Overhead clouds blocked out the moon and stars. If it weren’t for the single light glowing through the window of his living room, he would have been cast in total darkness.

For the umpteenth time, he glanced down at his wristwatch. Three o’clock in the morning and he hadn’t slept a wink. Judging by his wakefulness, sleep wasn’t coming anytime soon.

A choir of crickets chirping made him grind his teeth. He’d always enjoyed the noises of the night, but tonight they sounded like a shitload of annoying bugs instead of the sweet serenade Sahara had compared them to. Then there was the old owl sitting high in the limbs of a pine tree that kept repeating, “Who? Who?”

Damned if Devon knew the answer. Tonight he was at a loss to answer any question, including why Sahara had spent two weeks with him if she didn’t plan on making a commitment.

Commitment?

The thought should have scared the living crap out of him, but it didn’t. What he wanted was for Sahara to want him more than she wanted the resort, her promotion, but that was never going to happen. He hadn’t meant enough to her to even warrant a telephone call. A gentle breeze pushed the swing, making the chains creak as it rocked back and forth.

And that damn swing… A reminder it had been built for two—not one.

Anxiety prickled across his arms as he gazed up at the sky. The last night they had been together they had chosen a star and named it theirs. Even if he couldn’t see it tonight, he knew exactly where it was. For a brief moment he wondered if Sahara ever looked into the sky and remembered their star or was she sound asleep dreaming of a partnership in her firm?

Talk about losing one’s head over a woman.

Angrily, he picked at the sliver of wood in his index finger that had finally begun to fester. It had taken almost a week to work its way to the surface. Of course, if he’d been paying attention when he helped his friends restore an old Victorian house, one he’d turned down to begin with, maybe he wouldn’t be digging at the wound.

One of the things he loved about Whispering Cove was their community was always there to help one in need. Sam Doherty had been the driving force to drum up workers to complete the project on time. Devon had been thankful for the deterrence.

He sighed, remembering how Sam had looked at Alexis Miller, the new owner of Ol’ Lady Landry’s home. It appeared their resident ghost hunter was hunting more than ghosts. Of course, he wasn’t the only one on the hunt. Ex-Marine Ryan Alden seemed hell-bent on making time with Aimee’s little sister, Carmen.

Scraping the sore spot of his injured finger, Devon must have been successful in retrieving the sliver, because the pain lessened. Or was it because he swore he could smell Sahara’s powdery scent on the breeze?

“Well shit,” he moaned.

The shirt he’d slipped on in the dark was the same one Sahara had worn the night before the rehearsal dinner. He’d been so consumed with her absence he hadn’t done his wash in two weeks.

Like a living flashback, her scent rose up to tantalize and tease him. Even though the night was cool, he stripped the shirt off, but it did no good. He could still smell her on his skin. Taking the wadded-up material, he pressed it to his face, inhaled, and for a moment allowed himself to savor the memories that bombarded him. The devilment in her eyes. Her beautifully sculpted lips soft on his. Her gentle hands caressing his body. And the sexy little sounds she made as he made love to her.

He jerked the T-shirt from his nose and threw it haphazardly into the dark. “Dammit.”

If this was how Reece had felt about Tabby, no wonder he couldn’t stay away from her, because it was killing Devon not to call Sahara. But what would calling achieve? Her silence spoke loudly. He had never chased a woman—he wouldn’t start now.

On determined feet, he made his way back into the house. He had several things he had to do before going into town. No time like the present to get them out of his way. He had a meeting with Andie at nine to discuss the town council meeting tonight. The McDougals had been successful in sucking him into being the spokesperson against the resort. It was the least he could do since he was the one who had shown Sahara the Clarions’ place.

Time slipped by like sand in an hourglass only because the mantelpiece he was carving was so intricate he hadn’t had time to think about Sahara. The woodwork was a late wedding gift to Sky and Leo. He hoped to have it installed before they came back for the Bahamas.

As he washed up, he wondered what he would say tonight. But more importantly he wondered if Sahara would be present.

Sahara sat behind her desk, staring at the black screen of her computer. It had been a week since the wedding and she had returned to New York. No calls. No emails. Nothing from Whispering Cove—from Devon.

It was over.

A heavy sigh escaped as she turned and looked out the window. How many times had she stared out this window, loving the hustle and bustle of the big city? As she gazed over the horizon filled with skyscrapers, taxis looked like toy cars and people moved like armies of ants. The same beauty she’d seen only three weeks ago didn’t exist. Sure, the morning appeared sunny, bright, but in reality it was hot and muggy.

Miserable.

Just how she felt. It didn’t help she had yet to discover a way to squelch the deal on the resort
and
save face. When the door squeaked open, she didn’t turn around. Valerie’s sweet designer perfume gave her away.

“Sahara? Can I get you anything?”

“A new life.” Sahara slowly pivoted to come face to face with Valerie’s frown.

“You know, God can mend a broken heart, but He has to have all the pieces.”

Sahara struggled with tears as the woman took her into her arms. She had never cried this much in her life, but night after night it was the same thing. When sleep finally pulled her in, Devon would come to her in dreams. Some nights he would make slow, passionate love to her. Other nights he would tease her into a feverish frenzy, before he took her hard and fast. But the results were always the same. She’d wake up, alone and unfulfilled.

“I think you left a couple of them in Whispering Cove,” Valerie whispered next to Sahara’s ear before releasing her. “You need to go back and see if you can pick up those lost pieces.”

A shudder rippled through Sahara. “I’m not ever going back.” It would crush her to see Devon had moved on while she craved the sound of his voice—his touch—even more than that first night on the beach.

“Girl, you can’t go on like this—”

“Sahara?” Nick stuck his head out of his office. “Can you join us in the boardroom?”

“Yes. Of course.”

As she spoke, Valerie mimed she needed to wipe the tears Sahara hadn’t even realized had escaped. Grabbing a tissue, she quickly blotted beneath her eyes and dabbed at her nose before she turned around, but her boss was already gone.

“Do you need me?” Valerie asked.

Sahara shook her head. “No. I need for you to find me a way out of this.”

“I’ll keep trying,” she promised.

Shoulders back, head held high, Sahara left her office, preparing herself for what lay beyond those double doors. When she entered, she took a deep breath and placed a feigned smile on her face.

Nick rose from where he sat at the long, polished mahogany table. “There’s our shining star.”

The first one to look her way was Stephanie Dunn, Lead Council from Legal. As usual, the forty-something woman wore a constipated expression on her face. She never reciprocated a smile and Sahara didn’t expect one in return. She did receive one from the other two men at the table. John Moyer, Sr. and John Jr., partners of the firm, both smiled as they stood to greet her.

John Sr. extended her his withered hand. “We hear wonderful things about you, Miss Caan.”

“Please, call me Sahara.” She released his hand, before accepting John Jr.’s much stronger one.

“It’s nice to see you again, Sahara.” John Jr. was an astute man in his late thirties. He had taken a dying business and breathed new life into it.

“The pleasure is mine.”

John Jr. pulled a plush chair out next to him. “Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you.” She smoothed the back of her pencil skirt before she sat.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Nick slid a stack of papers across the glossy table. The package slowed and stopped in front of Sahara. She looked down and the first thing she saw was Devon’s signature scrolled across a petition. Her hands began to shake as she picked up the stack and thumbed through the pages.

“The whole town has signed the petition in opposition of the resort,” Nick grumbled. “Damn people. They don’t care about progress or the potential growth or increased land values that would result from the resort.”

This time it was Stephanie who slid legal papers beneath Sahara’s nose. “They have filed a Preliminary Injunction following the issuance of a Temporary Restraining Order to stop all activity and maintain the status quo.”

Sahara refrained from smiling as she gazed down at the document signed by Andie, Reece’s sister-in-law. “Andrea Adair-McGrath is one of their local attorneys.”

“Well, she doesn’t stand a chance against us.” Stephanie smirked.

“I wouldn’t underestimate her,” Sahara warned, then grew silent. Better not provide their legal-beagle any more fuel. “Where do we stand?”

“That’s why we called you into this meeting,” John Jr. said. “We want you to speak to the town. You know these people.”

Sahara’s heart thudded in her chest. Anxiety tiptoed up her spine. “Uh. I don’t know them.” She had thought she knew them, but she no longer felt that way.