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Authors: Rochelle Alers

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BOOK: Homecoming
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Lily shifted uncomfortably on the rocking chair. She stared at her daughter, cradled against Dana’s chest, rather than meet her gaze. “Do you really believe your father killed your mother?”

It was a while before Dana was able to form a reply. “There were times when I said I didn’t know, but then there are the times when I can say with complete honesty that he couldn’t have. My father was a doctor. He’d taken a pledge to save lives. And no matter how angry he was with my mother, I never saw him physically abuse her.”

Lily nodded in agreement. “I just couldn’t bring myself to believe Dr. Nichols would ever hurt anyone. He was always so nice to all of us.”

Dana met Lily’s direct gaze. “I think I would’ve eventually recovered from my mother’s murder if my father hadn’t committed suicide. After I was told that he’d hung himself in his cell, I cried for days. I cried myself to sleep for weeks on end. My aunt had to put cold compresses on my eyes every morning before I went to school to keep the other kids from staring at me.

“Then, one day, I realized Harry Nichols wasn’t worth my tears. I’d convinced myself that he killed my mother, and then took the cowardly way out by taking his own life. My resentment and frustration escalated to loathing because I believed he’d become so self-centered that he never considered how his suicide would affect me. I was in my twenties before I was finally able to talk about my fear of abandonment.” What she hadn’t resolved was the fact that she did not trust men.

“I did my share of crying, too,” Lily admitted, her eyes filling up with moisture. “When I found out that Miss Georgia had taken you away to live with her sister, and that I’d never see you again, I cried so hard that I made myself sick. I begged Miss Georgia to give me your address, but she refused.”

Dana wanted to tell Lily that her exile had been absolute, because her grandmother also refused to talk to her about her place of birth. Every summer when Georgia came north, Dana would ask her about Hillsboro, but would never get an answer to the questions she sought. After a while she stopped asking.

Lily decided to change the subject. “How long do you plan to stay in Hillsboro?”

“I’ve taken a four-month leave. I’m expected back October first.”

Lily’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think it’s going to take that long for you to close up this house?”

“I doubt it. I’ve extended my stay because I want to go over the proceedings of my father’s trial.”

Lily sat up straighter. “You plan to reopen your mother’s murder case?”

A slight lifting of an eyebrow was the only movement from Dana as her gaze bore into Lily’s shocked one. “Convincing the State of Mississippi to reopen the case will only become possible if I uncover enough evidence that will prove my father’s innocence.”

Changing the subject, they talked for another forty-five minutes, dissolving into paroxysms of laughter when they recalled some of the pranks they’d pulled on unsuspecting classmates and Dana’s crush on Ross Wilson, Jr. A rush of heat singed her cheeks when she recalled how tongue-tied she’d become whenever she encountered the handsome young boy.

Lily said Ross, Jr., who’d lived in Miami since graduating college, had returned to Hillsboro four years ago to take over his father’s real-estate business. Ross, Jr., had brokered the deal that brought the car-manufacturing plant to Hillsboro, thereby increasing the region’s job base. Talk was circulating that residents wanted the wealthy, young bachelor to run for political office in the next mayoralty election.

Handing Danella back to her mother, Dana walked Lily to her car, waiting until the baby was strapped into a car seat in the rear of the late-model sedan, then hugged and kissed her friend.

“When am I going to see you again?” Lily asked.

“Do you plan to go to church Sunday?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve decided it’s time I give Hillsboro something to really talk about. I’ll be at the eleven o’clock service. We can talk afterwards.”

Lily chucked. “I’m going to get there early just to see everyone’s reaction.”

“You’re bad, girlfriend,” Dana crooned.

“No worse than you,” Lily retorted, laughing.

Hugging Lily again, Dana waited for her to start up her car and back out of the driveway, waving until the car disappeared from view. Several cars were parked in driveways, but no one could be seen outside the eight houses lining the dead-end street. The heat had kept most people either indoors, or in air-conditioned offices or malls. Her grandmother’s house did not have any air conditioners because Georgia complained the artificially cooled air was not conducive to her arthritic fingers. The crippling affliction had shortened her career as an accomplished seamstress and dressmaker. By her fiftieth birthday Georgia had stopped sewing altogether. She’d used the extra money to supplement the pension and widow’s benefits she’d begun collecting following her husband’s accidental death.

Dana turned to reenter the house, but stopped as she heard the sound of a car as it came closer. Looking around, she saw Tyler Cole maneuver into the driveway and turn off the engine to a black two-seater BMW roadster. Smiling broadly, he winked at her as he stepped out of the racy vehicle, shutting the door behind him with a solid slam.

He’d changed out of the shirt and slacks he’d worn earlier that morning into a pair of black linen walking shorts and matching short-sleeved shirt. Dana felt her mouth go suddenly dry when she glimpsed his strong legs and bare feet in a pair of imported woven black leather sandals. She was staring, but she couldn’t help it. The black hair on his arms and legs, and the display of more crisp hair revealed by the open-necked shirt, shocked her with what had become a blatant exhibition of virility.

He took two long strides, stopping inches from her. The clean scent of his aftershave washed over her, weakening her knees. Closing her eyes briefly, she willed herself not to move. Her lids fluttered wildly before she was back in control.

“How did it go?” Dana did not recognize her own voice.

Tyler flashed a dimpled smile. “Wonderful. Mother and baby are doing well.”

“What did she have?”

“A boy. A beautiful, healthy perfectly formed son.”

Tilting her chin, she gave him a defiant look because she did not want him to know that she was lusting after him, that her whole being seemed to filled with a wanting she hadn’t known—until now.

“Why are you here, Tyler?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I told you I’d be back.”

“You did
not
have to come back,” she countered in a soft, no-nonsense tone.

“Yes, I did, because I want you to help me celebrate.”

Her brow furrowed. “Celebrate what?”

“The delivery of the first healthy baby in my study. This baby’s mother was the first woman whose pregnancy I confirmed once I took over as medical director at the clinic. I’ve followed her from the very beginning of her confinement to delivery. Her son proved a little stubborn when he refused to enter the world by the conventional vaginal method, but what’s important is that he’s here and he’s healthy.”

“You had to perform a C-section?”

Tyler nodded, smiling. “Well, Miss Nichols?”

“Yes, Dr. Cole?” Her voice was as soft and seductive as Tyler’s.

“Are you going to help me celebrate?”

“What do you have planned?”

“I’d like to begin with a drive in the country. Then we can stop and take in a few sights.”

“Are you sure about a drive in the country?” she asked. “What if you’re paged?”

Holding his arms out from his sides, he turned around slowly. “See? No pager and no phone.”

“What did you do with them?”

“I left them at home. I got another doctor to cover for me.”

“But … but I thought—”

Tyler placed a forefinger over her parted lips, stopping her words. “Don’t think, Dana. Please, just lock your door and come with me.”

She went completely still. “You like giving orders, don’t you?”

He looked at her, his gaze widening. “No. I don’t like giving orders.”

“But you do. At least with me.”

His lids lowered as he bit back a smile. “I’m sorry if that’s how you perceive me.”

“I don’t think you’re the least bit sorry.”

“Oh, but I am.” His expression mirrored sincerity.

“I still don’t believe you.” Unconsciously, her brow furrowed. “I’ve tried to dissuade you from seeing me, but it is apparent you’re quite willful once you want something. Don’t say I didn’t warn you if you compromise your reputation by being seen with me.” Turning on her heels, she walked back into the house to retrieve her handbag and keys.

Tiny lines fanned out around Tyler’s eyes as he smiled at her retreating figure. She looked delicate and extremely feminine in a dress. The soft cotton material clung to her curvy body, offering a hint of what lay under the fabric.

Did he want to see her naked?

Yes!

He wanted her naked and writhing under him in a passion he hadn’t experienced in months; he wanted to caress the softness of her skin, inhale her delicate feminine scent, feel her heat, and taste her—everywhere, and he wanted to map her body with his hands and mouth until she was imprinted on his memory for an eternity.

Did he want Dana Nichols?

Yes! Despite her warning to stay away from her, his need to make love to her intensified with each second he spent with her. A muscle throbbed noticeably in his jaw as he clamped his teeth together. He whispered a silent vow. He’d always gotten everything he’d ever wanted—and in that instant he knew he wanted Dana Nichols, not just for sex. That he could get from any woman.

He wanted her just because of what he’d believed she’d become to him—his female counterpart.

Eight

Tyler held the passenger-side door open for Dana, waiting until she was seated and belted in before closing it. Rounding the convertible sports car, he slipped in behind the wheel, secured his own belt, and started it up with a minimum of motion. A rush of cool air swept over his face and body as he backed out of the driveway.

Within minutes he drove away from the cul-de-sac, heading for the local road. Several feet ahead of him, flashing red lights and ringing bells signaled the approach of a train coming from a westerly direction. He slowed, knowing he would not be able to make it across the grading before the freight train.

Shifting into neutral, he removed his left foot from the clutch, draped his right arm over the back of Dana’s seat, and stared at her delicate profile. She hadn’t put up her hair, and the lighter-colored strands shimmered like spun gold among the other tawny-brown strands. He curled his fingers into a tight fist to keep from touching her hair, knowing if he did he would be lost in the spell she unknowingly had woven to pull him in.

He’d become a prisoner of longing—one of his own choosing. He wanted to lie in Dana Nichols’s scented arms just once—long enough to assuage the war of
erotic emotions attacking him when he least expected them.

“While we’re waiting, perhaps you can tell me why I should stay away from you.” His voice was soft and coaxing. It was the same tone he used whenever he wanted a patient to relax and feel at ease during an internal examination.

Dana stared out the windshield, her gaze fixed on the flashing red lights. “It’s apparent you haven’t listened to what has been said about me.”

Covering the brake, he unbuckled his seat belt. “I told you before that I don’t make it a habit of listening to gossip.”

Turning her head, she went completely still. Tyler had moved closer, close enough for her to feel the moist whisper of his breath on her cheek. Staring mutely at him, Dana was confused by the mixed feelings surging through her. There was no doubt she was attracted to the tall, handsome doctor, more captivated than she wanted or needed to be. However, she was only going to be in Hillsboro for four months—just long enough to uncover enough evidence to prove her father’s innocence—just long enough to attempt to clear her family’s name, but not long enough to become involved with a man—especially one as enthralling as the one sitting inches from her.

“I am the daughter of an alleged adulteress mother and an alleged murdering, pyromaniac suicidal father. And there’s no doubt the murder-suicide of Alicia and Harry Nichols has topped Hillsboro’s most-infamous-scandal list for the last two decades.

“I plan to remain in Hillsboro for four months—long enough to interview anyone who was involved in my father’s trial and go through newspaper copy and court transcripts in an attempt to uncover the truth of
what really happened that eventful day twenty-two years ago.”

Curling his long fingers around the slender column of her neck, Tyler lowered his head and pressed his mouth to her ear to be heard over the roaring click-clacking sound of the passing freight train.

“What if you don’t find what you want?”

The liquid gold in her brown eyes shimmered with unbidden moisture. Blinking rapidly, she willed the tears not to fall. “Then I’ll leave Hillsboro knowing I’ve done all I could do to clear my family’s name.”

Tyler registered Dana’s breathless whisper when she’d said
family’s name
. The two words hit him in the chest like stones hurled from a powerful slingshot. He’d grown up with family name and family honor branded on his brain and in his heart. As a Cole, he’d had the expected code of behavior drilled into him at an early age. His father constantly reminded him of the legacy he’d been given and stood to inherit as the only son of the family’s reigning patriarch.

Tyler hadn’t gone into the family business, deciding instead on a career in medicine. However, becoming a doctor had not exempted him from his eventual responsibility of becoming head of the family once Martin Diaz Cole passed away. That fact did not disturb Tyler because he knew eighty-year-old Martin could be counted on to live at least until the century mark. Tyler’s grandfather had died at 103, and his grandmother would celebrate her 102nd year of life this upcoming Christmas. His parents had become health buffs, to the point where they exercised every day and monitored everything they ate or drank, and there was no doubt they would continue to enjoy a long and healthy existence for many years to come.

Then I’ll leave Hillsboro knowing I’ve done all I could do to clear my family’s name
. Dana’s statement returned with
vivid clarity. He wanted her to clear her family’s name, but he didn’t want her to leave Hillsboro. Not when he’d found himself ensnared in a web of seduction from which he could not and did not want to escape.

“Let me help you,” he crooned.

Closing her eyes, Dana felt the runaway pumping of her heart in her ears over the roaring sound of the passing train. She shut out the sound ringing bells, the countless number of freight cars moving slowly along the tracks, the sight of the flashing red lights, and the drugging fragrance of Tyler’s cologne mingling with the distinctive masculine scent of his flesh.

She forgot why she had come back to Hillsboro, that she’d just buried her last surviving family member, and that she was the last Hillsboro Sutton Nichols, as she gloried in the cool touch of Tyler Cole’s hand on the nape of her neck.

“Help me how?” Her sultry voice had lowered noticeably.

“I’ll help you get the best private investigator in the state.”

Pulling back, Dana stared at him, noting his stoic expression. “I can’t permit that.”

“Why not?”

“I need to do this myself.”

“What if you can’t do it?”

“I can do it,” she insisted stubbornly, “because this is what I’ve been trained to do.”

“But you said you’re a journalist.”

“I am an investigative reporter.”

Tyler blinked once as a shiver of uneasiness snaked up his spine. Reopening a case, especially a celebrated murder case in a small town, was certain to rekindle resentment while setting up warring factions among townspeople. And if Dana did prove her father’s innocence,
then would she attempt to uncover the guilty person or persons, thereby putting herself at risk?

“Will you let me know if I can help you—in any way possible?”

“Why, Tyler?”

He flashed a half smile. “I’m surprised you have to ask me that.”

“But I
am
asking.”

“Because I like you, Dana Nichols.”

“You don’t know me,” she retorted.

“I like what I see.”

“Is that all you have to go by? My looks?”

“It’s more than enough. At least for now.”

Dana shook her head. “No, Tyler, it’s not going to work. I’m not going to become involved with you, then walk away like nothing ever happened.”

“Then, don’t leave,” he insisted.

“I have nothing here to make me stay.”

“What if I try and convince you to stay?”

“What are you offering, Dr. Cole? Marriage and a happily-ever-after?” She was barely able to keep the laughter from her voice.

“Maybe.” Tyler wasn’t certain where the single word had come from, but it was out and he could not retract it.

Dana sobered quickly, staring wordlessly at him, her heart pounding an erratic rhythm, stunned by his vacant response and expression. Moments later, her eyes crinkled in a smile.

“Thanks, but no, thanks.”

Tyler stiffened as though she had struck him. It was the first time, even in jest, that he’d proposed to a woman, and his masculine ego wouldn’t permit him to accept an outright rejection without an explanation.

“Have you ever been married?” he asked.

“No.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

Dana hesitated for several seconds. “I thought I was.”

“What happened?”

“It ended after a couple of years without much fanfare.”

Tyler lifted an eyebrow. “You left him?”

“No,” she replied honestly. “He left me.”

Taking in a quick sharp breath, he shook his head in disbelief. How could a man leave a woman who looked like Dana Nichols? He’d found her perfect. She had it all—looks and brains.

“He was a fool, Dana.”

“I don’t think so. The relationship was going nowhere.”

“Why? Because he wouldn’t commit?”

She shook her head. “It was just the opposite.
I
wouldn’t commit.”

“Why not?”

Her lingering bitterness surfaced. “Because I don’t trust
men
. What about you, Tyler? How old are you, and were you ever married?” Dana’s voice faded to a hushed stillness as the last freight car rumbled past.

A slight smile softened his mouth as he gave her a lingering stare. “I’m forty-one, and I’ve never been married.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve haven’t met that special woman.”

“Does she exist?”

“My mother says she does.”

“And you didn’t answer my question. Does she exist?”

Tyler lowered his gaze. “There was a time when I believed she didn’t. But now I’m not so certain.”

“Why?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“That was before I met you, Miss Dana Nichols. Before
I was complete blindsided by your incredible beauty.”

“Tyler, please don’t say—”

“No, Dana,” he cut in softly, stopping her words. “Don’t tell me what not to say, because I always say what I feel, not what someone wants to hear.”

She shook her head. “Then what you want is not going to work.”

He tightened his hold on her neck. “If it doesn’t work, then it wasn’t meant to be. But if it does work, then I believe we’re in for the most exciting ride of our lives.” His gaze bore into hers, seemingly challenging her to refute his quiet assurance.

His fingertips caressed the silken flesh covering her throat before his hand came down slowly. Turning away, he secured his seat belt. A smothering hush swelled inside the car, neither occupant attempting to break the silence. The heat of the blistering sun rose in shimmering waves off the iron rails, making visibility nearly impossible. The scorching rays had parched the grass, turning the landscape into a carpet of brown withered vegetation.

Shifting into gear, Tyler drove over the grading, ignoring the mocking voice inside his head that told him not to pursue Dana Nichols, that she was a woman he should stay away from. But he could not stay away from her because he did not want to stay away from her although she’d openly admitted she didn’t trust men. Her declaration made him wonder if her distrust had stemmed from her father’s betrayal. After all, the man had murdered her mother, then taken his own life, making her an orphan. It was obvious Dana had been faced with issues of loss and abandonment for most of her life, unlike Tyler, who’d grown up with both parents who’d nurtured and protected him until adulthood.

Tyler picked up a pair of sunglasses off the console, placing them on the bridge of his nose, and then pressed a button on the dashboard, turning on a CD player. The soft haunting sounds of an acoustical guitar with an accompanying muted trumpet filled the BMW. Increasing his speed, he maneuvered around a slow-moving tractor lumbering along the narrow road. The car shot forward in a burst of speed as trees, houses, and grazing livestock whizzed past in a blinding blur.

Closing her eyes and settling back on the leather seat, Dana lost herself in the music, the heat and sensually haunting scent of the man sharing her space. She wanted to tell Tyler to stop the car and let her out. She needed a few moments to herself to think—think about what he wanted from her and what she was able to offer him. He sought a relationship and she could not afford one—at least not at this time in her life.

“Tyler?” She hadn’t opened her eyes.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to sleep with me?”

His head snapped around, the car veering sharply to the right. Returning his attention to the road in front of him, Tyler straightened the wheel, regaining control of the vehicle. “What!” The word literally exploded from his mouth.

“You heard me.”

“Did you ask me if I wanted to sleep you?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Is that why you think I’ve asked you to go out with me?”

Dana opened her eyes. Her mouth was smiling even though her eyes were cold. His expression was a mask of stone. “Let’s be adult about this,” she said. “You
can stop at the nearest motel and I’ll assuage your curiosity about Alicia Nichols’s daughter. I’m even willing to pay for the room.”

She prayed he wouldn’t take her up on her challenge, because there was no way she would be able to take off her clothes for Tyler, lie with him, and then walk away without a backward look. But if she did agree to see him during her stay in Hillsboro, she knew she had to assume control, set the limits of her involvement with him.

Slowing the roadster, Tyler maneuvered off the road onto to a narrow, dusty shoulder, turning off the engine. He pushed open his door, stepping out into the intense heat. Less than thirty seconds later, Dana stood on the side of the road with him, his fingers curled around her upper arms.

Pulling her up close to his chest, he struggled valiantly not to lose his temper. His dark face was set in a vicious expression as he clenched his teeth so tightly intense pain radiated in his jaws.

“You better never say anything like that to me
ever
again.”

Dana’s temper flared. “And don’t you dare tell me what I can say. I merely asked you a question, and you have the most annoying habit of being evasive by answering my question with another question. Let’s get something straight before we embark on something we may regret for the rest of our lives.”

“What?” he ground out between his teeth.

“No head games, Tyler,” she warned, her eyes narrowing.

His expression did not change. “What else do you want?”

“Complete candor with each other.”

A half smile softened his mouth. “Anything else?” he drawled.

“No pleas for a commitment. I have a plan, but that plan doesn’t include staying in Hillsboro, so don’t ask me to stay. And last, but certainly not least, don’t ask me to sleep with you.”

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