Homecoming (12 page)

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Authors: Rochelle Alers

BOOK: Homecoming
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His cousin had given up a military career to teach at a Virginia military institution. Michael, like his father
before him, had attended West Point, and subsequently joined the Pentagon’s Defense Intelligence Agency. Joshua Kirkland had retired as a colonel and Michael a captain. However, Michael had added a law degree to his impeccable military credentials, which qualified him to teach military law.

“Sure. What do you need?”

“The name and telephone number of a private investigator. I want someone to look into a twenty-two-year-old murder case.”

There was a noticeable pause before Michael’s baritone voice came through the wire again. “I don’t know a PI, but I do know someone who might be able to help you out. His name is Merrick Grayslake. He used to work for the Company.”

“The Company?”

“CIA,” Michael explained.

Tyler forced a laugh. “I don’t think I’m going to need someone trained in covert activities.”

“What you need is the best when it comes to scrutinizing facts and data, and Gray was and is still one of the best I know.”

“I’ll take your word for it,
primo
. Give him my home number and tell him to call me. Let him know money is no object.”

It was Michael’s turn to laugh. “If I tell him you’re my first cousin, then he’ll inflate the fee so much that you’ll be forced to file for bankruptcy.”

“I repeat, money is no object.”

“Back it up,
primo
. Does this have anything to do with a woman?”

“Why would you say that, Michael?”

“Because I’ve never known you to be such a spendthrift. I don’t know whether you’re aware of it, but there’s a family joke about the rituals you go through
before you settle on your annual charitable donations.”

“That’s because when I decide to share my wealth, it should be for a worthy cause. What I don’t want to do is throw it away.”

“I hear you,” Michael intoned. He’d donated a generous portion of his own personal assets to his wife’s crusade to help women reclaim their lives from the vicious cycle of substance abuse and domestic violence.

“Thanks, cousin, for helping me out. I’ll see you for Thanksgiving.”

“I’ll be looking for you. You’re always welcome to bring a guest if you want.”

It was always the same. Every time someone invited him for a gathering, he was told to bring a guest, and because he’d always come alone, he always thought they would tire of extending the offer. But they didn’t.

“Gracias y adiós.”

“Adiós, Tyler.”

Tyler hung up, reaching for a chart at the top of the pile. He had to complete his review of the charts before he left to pick up Dana. Twin dimples winked attractively as he recalled the feminine lushness of her body pressed to his when they’d danced at Three J’s. Holding her close, inhaling her fragrance, feeling her heat had become a sensual feast for his senses. A feast he wanted to partake of over and over again until satiated.

Eleven

Dana shivered, despite the intense heat, staring at Tyler as he stared back at her through the finely woven mesh strung tightly over the door. Something in his stance, his expression, silently communicated she was seeing Tyler Cole for the first time—the real Tyler Cole.

His obsidian gaze was unwavering, intense, adding more heat to her already warm cheeks, and she found his nearness both disturbing and exciting. She’d known him less than a week, although it seemed much longer. He’d come into her home, and she’d gone to his. They’d shared several meals and danced together. He’d also kissed her, and she’d returned his kisses.

She’d found him soft-spoken, even-tempered, generous, and compassionate, and she responded to him despite her resolve not to become involved with a man. She’d agreed to date Tyler, while permitting him to become a part of her existence, but she had to ask herself, was she involved with him? That question had haunted her as she went through a hatbox of letters her grandfather had written to her grandmother during their courtship phase.

Daniel Sutton had poured out his heart in those long-ago written missives, declaring an undying love to the young woman who’d captured his heart. He’d waited for Georgia to celebrate her eighteenth birthday
before claiming her as his wife. There were more than four-dozen letters from Daniel to Georgia, and while Dana had searched several other hatboxes for correspondence from her grandmother to Daniel, she could not find any. She found it strange because rarely had a month gone by when she did not get a letter from Georgia.

Without warning, Tyler smiled, the even whiteness of his teeth dazzling in his dark face. There was enough eroticism in his expression to melt away her defenses. Her emotions seemed out of control, her head swirling with doubts. She wanted Tyler Cole.

She wasn’t certain whether she wanted or needed him to assuage the sensations attacking her celibate body simply because of his statement:
We go all the way
. Did going all the way translate into a sexual liaison or an eventual commitment? Dana knew she could sleep with Tyler without committing to a future with him. However, she wondered, would he accept one without the other?

“Are you coming out, or do you want me to come in?”

The soft drawling sound of Tyler’s voice broke the spell as Dana offered him a sensual smile, unknowingly quickening his pulse. “I’m coming out.” Reaching for her tiny purse on the drop-leaf table, she unlatched the screen door, opened it, and then closed the solid oak door behind her.

Cradling her elbow, he led her to his truck, helped her in, and then slipped in behind the wheel. He hadn’t turned off the ignition, and cool air flowed from the vents.

Tyler backed out of the driveway, mindful of the young children playing in the street. He accelerated, heading west, his gaze fixed on the sky. Dark clouds were forming in the blistering white sky.

“It looks as if it’s going to rain,” he remarked casually.

Dana’s gaze narrowed as she studied the heavens. There was a greenish glow that made everything appear iridescent. “I don’t like the look of the sky.”

Tyler glanced at her profile. “What’s wrong with it?”

“We’re in for some bad weather. Probably a thunderstorm with hail.”

That’s if we’re lucky
, she mused. She remembered the same type of sky as a child before a tornado touched down on a town to the east of Hillsboro. A month after the twister had hit, the inhabitants were still reeling from its devastating effects. Homes were leveled, the roof of the church had been blown away, all of the windows in the schoolhouse were shattered, and the countryside was littered with debris. The most appalling sight had been the number of dead livestock. Cows, horses, hogs, and chickens lay bloated and decomposing miles from where they’d grazed.

Tyler crossed the railroad grading, heading in the direction of the river. He returned a wave from a man on a slow-moving tractor, going in the opposite direction. Then he gave Dana a quick glance. She sat, her hands cradled in her lap, staring out the side window. She reminded him of a young college student with her bare face and hair brushed off her face and secured in a ponytail. She’d elected to wear a sleeveless orange linen dress that skimmed the lush curves of her body, and a pair of matching espadrilles.

He forced himself to concentrate on his driving rather than stare at his passenger. Today Dana looked more delicate than he had ever seen her—delicate and vulnerable. Without warning, an urgent need to protect her at any cost surfaced, a need stunning him with its intensity.

He’d never had to look after or protect anyone—not
even his sisters. That task was left to their father. Why, he wondered, at forty-one, did he suddenly feel the need to take care of someone other than himself; and why Dana?

You’re falling for her
, an inner voice taunted. He was falling and falling hard, and again he had to ask himself—why Dana?

Moreover, Tyler knew without a doubt that Dana was the one—that special woman who could get him to reevaluate who he was and whether he wanted to spend the rest of his life alone.

His gaze narrowing, he turned off onto the private road leading to his property. Rows of newly plants trees stood like sentinels on guard duty. They would’ve wilted in the extreme heat and lingering drought if he hadn’t installed an automatic underground sprinkler system. It was programmed to activate twice daily, so trees, the endless expanse of lawn, flower, and vegetable gardens, and the orchard were provided with the moisture needed to remain lush and verdant.

His lifestyle appeared orderly, nearly perfect. Or was it? he had to ask himself. Appearances were deceiving, because in reality his life was far from perfect. He’d acquired the characteristics that signaled success, but real success had only come from his profession. Nowhere in his personal life had there been an iota of success.

He didn’t know why, but he’d shied away from commitments because he’d told himself it would interfere with his work. Dr. Tyler Cole had convinced himself that he didn’t want a woman, didn’t need one except for physical release; but since interacting with Dana, he knew he’d lied to the universe and to himself.

Did he want a wife?

Did he want children?

The two questions bombarded him like the rhythmic
pounding of a bass drum in a holiday parade, until he felt like shouting,
Yes, I do!

He did, and what he had to uncover was why now.

Reaching up, he pressed a button on the visor, and the door to the three-car garage opened silently. He pulled in, parked, leaving an empty space between the truck and the BMW roadster.

Dana waited for Tyler to come around and assist her getting out of the vehicle. She much preferred his low-slung convertible. It was built low to the ground, and she did not have to wait for him to lift her until she gained her footing, or endure the pleasurable sensations whenever their bodies touched.

Being that close to Tyler, inhaling his intoxicating masculine scent, reveling in the strength of his muscular arm around her waist whenever she was cradled in his embrace, made her ovaries ache. At the same time she was astounded by the sense of protection he offered her. He closed the truck’s door with one hand, the other resting against the small of her back.

Tilting her chin, Dana stared up at him, smiling. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like a tour of your property before we go in.”

Lowering his head, Tyler brushed a light kiss over her parted lips. “Okay.”

Hand-in-hand, they walked out of the garage, the doors closing automatically after they’d moved beyond the beam of a motion detector. Overhead, the sky darkened as angry clouds gathered in the distance. Intermittent flashes of lightning sliced the heavens.

Dana continued to watch the sky at the same time an uneasy feeling swept over her. The familiar scent of the Mississippi River wafted in her sensitive nostrils.

“I smell the river. It’s definitely going to rain,” she predicted.

“I’ll show you the garden, then we’ll go in,” Tyler said, leading her around to the back of the property. The winding path of rose-pink brick was a soft contrast to the dark green grass.

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to a separate building several hundred feet away from the garage. The design was the same as the main house, but on a much smaller scale.

“That’s the guest house. It has several suites, each with a bedroom, adjoining bath, efficiency kitchen, and a living/dining area.”

“You must expect to do a lot of entertaining.”

Tyler gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “I come from a very large family.”

“How many children did your parents have?”

He directed her around the barricades where workmen had dug a deep hole for what would become an in-the-ground pool. Set back from the hole was a pool house. Made of pure white marble, it looked like a Grecian temple, shimmering eerily in the ominous afternoon light.

“Three: two daughters and a son. When I say family, I mean all of the Coles, which includes in-laws, aunts, uncles, and cousins. My grandparents had five children between them, eighteen grandchildren, thirty-six great-grandchildren, three great-great grandchildren, and my younger sister is expecting the fourth.”

Dana averted her head, blinking back the moisture welling up in her eyes. Tyler was only one of a number of Coles, a family with a legacy, while she was the last in the bloodline of Mississippi Suttons and Nicholses. After she passed away her DNA would end with her.

Biting down on her lower lip, she drew in a deep
breath and within seconds was back in control. “What color have you planned for the pool tiles?”

“Lapis blue.”

They continued along a winding slate path, which led to a verdant forested area with an overgrowth of trees, flowering bushes, ferns, and clinging vines. Ancient oak trees festooned in shrouds of Spanish moss competed with fruit trees, which showed evidence of putting forth their early summer blooms. Large clay pots overflowed with a lavender and green display of hyacinths, anemones, lilacs, and pansies. Pale white roses, peonies, muscari, lisianthus, and viburnum spilled from a quartet of massive pots at the entrance to a section where several Japanese magnolias shaded a narrow path leading into a large field of wildflowers blooming abundantly in their natural state.

The temperature in the garden seemed at least ten degrees cooler, and Dana knew it was the perfect place to begin or end a day. Pulling her hand from Tyler’s protective grasp, she bent down to inhale a profusion of blue hydrangeas growing amid a carpet of daffodils.

Placing her hand on the ground, she trailed her fingertips over the cool, dark earth. Here, everything was moist, alive, while the rest of Hillsboro withered. Another section, surrounded by circles of stones, revealed an herb garden. The distinctive scent of mint, basil, thyme, and rosemary perfumed the warm humid air.

“It’s so pastoral.” Her voice was low, filled with awe. “This is probably what the Garden of Eden was like.”

Tyler hunkered down next to her, pointing to his left. “There’s an underground stream about fifty yards from here which keeps the ground moist. I’m surprised it hasn’t dried up like all of the others around here.”

She glanced at his distinctive profile, admiring the
finely defined bones making up his handsome face. “What if it did dry up?”

“I had several wells installed on the property to offset that problem.” He stood, easing Dana up with him. “This is one of my favorite places. Come with me,” he urged softly, cupping her elbow. He led her through the field of flowers.

Dana followed him through what she’d come to think of a jungle, stepping out into a cleared area where a gazebo sat on a grassy lawn, the structure resembling the top layer of a wedding cake; the sight elicited a soft gasp from her.

The gazebo overlooked a picnic area. She surveyed a large barbeque pit with a chimney rising at least six feet in the air, stone benches, and four outdoor patio tables, each with seating for six, shaded by massive umbrellas in the same sailcloth fabric covering the backs and seat cushions of the teakwood-trimmed chairs. The patio was made up of massive blocks of black marble.

She pointed to a large slab of concrete. “Is that going to be a tennis court?”

Smiling, Tyler shook his head. “No. A basketball court.”

She grinned at him. “You weren’t kidding when you said you play, as you call it, B-ball.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “You’ll find out just how serious I am once the court is completed. I plan to practice throwing three-pointers until I can do it with my eyes closed.”

“What are you training for?

“I’ve challenged a cousin to a three-throw contest. Right now Gabe holds the family record for the highest number of three-pointers in a game. He calls himself the Reggie Miller of three-pointers, but I’m out to prove him wrong.”

“Is he that good?”

Tyler shrugged a broad shoulder under the finely woven fabric of a creamy lawn cotton shirt that was an exact match for a pair of tailored linen slacks. “He’s good, but he’s no Reggie Miller.”

“Did he ever try out for the NBA?”

“No. He’s happens to be a gifted musician.”

“Did you ever think of playing ball professionally?”

Shaking his head, Tyler said softly, “The only thing I ever wanted to be was a doctor.”

Dana lifted an eyebrow. “Did you ever think you might not score high enough on the MCATs to get into a medical school?”

He gave her a long, penetrating stare, then said, “I never thought I would not become a doctor.”

It was Dana’s turn to stare as she leisurely studied Tyler’s face, feature by feature, looking for arrogance in his expression; what she did recognize was self-confidence and privilege. Even if Tyler Cole hadn’t become a doctor, she knew he was privileged.

This was evident by the design of his home, its furnishings, guest house, vehicles, and the added amenities of an Olympic-sized swimming pool and professionally designed gardens. Even his manner of dress was classic and elegant.

I never thought I would not become a doctor
. His statement told her all she needed to know about the man who’d pulled her into a vortex of desire from which she did not want to escape. It was obvious that if he wanted something, he would let nothing stop him from attaining his goal.

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