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  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, s
he 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.

  John Jr.’s eyes narrowed. “Your brother’s a policeman, part of the community. Speak to him.”

  “My brother is on his honeymoon.” Besides, she would never use him or his position to achieve something he was against. “He won’t be back for another week. I think you’re better off with Stephanie and Nick.”

  “They’ll be attending in case you require their backup,” John Sr. reassured.

  “But—”

  “My assistant has made the arrangements for a town meeting.” Nick got to his feet. “We leave in a half hour for the airport.”

  “Half hour?” Sahara couldn’t breathe. “But I haven’t packed.”

  Nick began to gather his paperwork. “We’ll return tonight after the meeting.”

  Sahara slowly stood. How on earth was she going to get out of this?

  John Sr. stuck out his hand, once again. “We’re counting on you. We see big things in your future.” His yellow smile spread across his face. He barely released her when John Jr. scooped up her hand in his.

  This time it wasn’t a simple handshake. He held her hand gently, his thumb sliding along her skin in almost a caress. “You have a big future here. Make this happen.” He winked.

  Sahara had handled men like John Jr. He was used to getting what he wanted and clearly he wasn’t looking for just a partner. Her stomach rolled. She looked down at their clutched hands and tried to casually pull away. She couldn’t even muster a feigned smile, because the only hands she wanted all over her body were Devon’s.

  At the thought of him, her hands began to shake again. How could she stand before Whispering Cove’s community, before Devon, and convince them the resort was for their own good?

  “You need to hurry,” Stephanie snarled as she walked by her.

  Sahara felt blindsided as she walked back to her office. She was readying her briefcase when Valerie burst into her office.

  “I found it!” The joy on her face died when Nick walked in behind her.

  Straightening his tie, Nick asked, “Are you ready?”

  Valerie glanced from him to Sahara. “Ready?”

  “I’m flying to Whispering Cove with Nick and Stephanie,” Sahara explained.

  Valerie’s eyes widened. “Now?”

  Sahara nodded.

  “Wait!” Valerie rushed from the office. In seconds she returned with a folder. “You can review these on the plane.” Her assistant crammed the paperwork into Sahara’s hands.

  Sahara carelessly tossed the folder into her briefcase and snapped it shut. As she followed Nick out of her office, dread coursed through her veins.

  “Devon?”

  He looked at Andie across the table. The Community Center was a buzz of activity. All around them their neighbors and their children made signs protesting the resort. The scent of glue and markers filled the air. Voices of concern spread throughout, but they were white noise rambling around in Devon’s head.

  Concern pulled her brows together. “Are you up to this?”

  Was he?

  Word had reached them that Sahara would be in the party the firm was sending to speak to the community.

  “I can handle this if you want me to,” she offered.

  But he knew the truth.

  Crushing the resort was especially important to her and Brody. They had chosen Whispering Cove to raise their children because of what the town offered. The townspeople were highly independent, resourceful, rugged and hardworking individuals. They had learned to live off the land or sea no matter what the weather conditions. Most of them had a wicked sense of humor that made them unique in their own way, but they were genuine and caring. When their backs were against the wall you had better be ready for a fight. If Sahara’s firm wanted a fight, they had come to the right place.

  Devon tipped his head from one side to the next, listening to muscles and tendons pop. They had only an hour and a half before show time and his confidence was waning.

  “I want whatever you feel will have the most impact.”

  “I’m ready either way. We’ll feel out our opponents and go from there. Agree?” she asked.

  “Fine.”

  “Let’s go through what you should cover one more time, before I prepare several other speakers.”

  They worked together for the next fifteen minutes, before Devon excused himself. He needed to get ready. As he got into his truck, something red peeked out from between his seats. He reached and pulled out a pair of Sahara’s panties she’d lost one night when they didn’t make it home before he had to have her. His eyes stung with emotion. He started his vehicle. Tires squealing, he pulled out of the parking lot.

  God. What was wrong with him?

  He’d never felt this way about a woman. Even as he rolled down the window of his truck and tossed the panties, he had to admit the obvious.

  He had fallen in love.

  Chapter Nine

  As Nick came to another unmarked intersection, he released a frustrated breath. “What is wrong with these people? No street signs? How do they ever find their way?”

  From the back seat of their black rental sedan, Sahara resisted the smile begging to be released. “One of Maine’s favorite clichés is ‘you can’t get there from here’. It’s said their lack of signs is a plot to confuse and discourage flatlanders, or rusticators as they call us, from moving to Maine.”

  “Well, it’s working on me,” Stephanie groaned. “I think we’ve passed this bridge twice. Nick, we’ll have to ensure there are better markings in the future.”

  “You’ll have the entire state to deal with. It’s the same all over and they like it that way,” Sahara said matter-of-factly.

  Nick gazed into the rearview mirror at her. “How did you find Whispering Cove?”

  Sahara knew she was walking a fine line. If she let her boss wander around much longer, he might guess she wasn’t too keen on the resort anymore. In fact, he hadn’t been happy with her comments when she had first returned to New York. She had attempted to explain big business would ruin the coastal town’s way of life—a life their residents cherished, but he wasn’t having any of it. The board and shareholders had run the numbers. It would be a great investment.

  “My brother gave me mile-by-mile directions by telephone. I think you make a right here.”

  As Nick made a sharp turn, Sahara’s briefcase slid off the back seat and struck the floorboard, popping open. When she reached for it the contents fell out. Releasing a discouraged huff, she started to gather her files when she noticed a piece of paper with yellow sticky that simply said “Read” protruding from the folder Valerie had given her. After Sahara returned the contents of her case, she opened Valerie’s folder. As she started to read, her pulse began to race.

  Valerie had done it.

  Her assistant had found the loophole that might help Whispering Cove stop this project. But would there be an opportunity to get this information to Andie in time?

  The next ten minutes seemed to drag on and on. When the town came into sight, an almost panic fell across Sahara. How would she get the opportunity to speak with Andie? She hardly expected Nick and Stephanie to go sightseeing while she single-handedly ruined their chances to build a resort in Whispering Cove.

  The second they turned down Main Street the town’s resentment was shown clearly in the windows of each business. Large, bright signs expressed their dissatisfaction, their desire to remain as they were. As they neared the Community Center where the meeting was to be held, young an
d old protesters walked the sidewalks holding signs. Some simply stating “Go back to New York”.

  Sahara knew she shouldn’t take it personally, but she did.

  The once-friendly people she had conversed with wore tight and wary faces. Not that she could blame them. She wanted to scream out she possibly had their solution. Instead, she balled her fingers into fists and remained quiet. She had to play this right or she could lose everything.

  Intimidation had never been an issue with Sahara, but as she stepped from the car every muscle in her body bunched. Nervously she pulled down on her pencil skirt, and checked her blazer to make sure the buttons were in place.

  Stephanie chuckled under her breath. “Can you believe these people?”

  Sahara wanted to reach out and slap the woman. Instead her fingers tightened around the handle of her briefcase. A few people threw insults at her, calling her a traitor, but she raised her chin and continued to walk.

  “You all right?” Nick asked.

  She mustered up a smile. “Of course. I’m doing my job.”

  “That a girl,” he said.

  As they entered the Center, she quickly swept the room for Andie, but she was nowhere in sight. But she did see Harold chatting with Errol and Byron near the restrooms.

  Time was of the essence.

  She had to make a move now or all would be lost. “If you’ll excuse me. I need to use the restroom before we begin.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Stephanie said.

  Sahara resisted the urge to groan.

  “They don’t look like a friendly bunch, do they?” the attorney asked.

  Sahara started to say, “Can you blame them?” but she held her tongue. When they approached Harold he waved her over. “Go on. I’ll see what Mr. Adair wants.”

  When Stephanie entered the restroom Harold narrowed his eyes on Sahara. “Lassie, tell me you’re not going through with this.”

  Sahara glanced back and found Nick watching her. She needed to give Andie the paperwork, but she would have to relay the message and hope Harold delivered it correctly. “Harold, I can’t talk now, but I need you to get a message to Andie.”