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The Wild Rose Press

Heat Rating: SENSUAL
Word Count: 67,901
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When Wendy Davis was young, her home was the center of activity for the lost boys, friends of her brothers. One special boy captured Wendy's heart--T. K. Bell, who grew up to become a famous and wealthy computer entrepreneur.

One lost boy, Peter Barry, was truly adrift. He had a crush on Wendy and when she rejected him, he ran away, his body later found in the river. The funeral for Wendy's mother brings the lost boys together and brings Bell back into Wendy's life. That's when she finds there are secrets surrounding Peter's death, her mother's final illness, and Bell, who believes her mother was murdered.

The fabric of lies comes unraveled when Wendy discovers the truth about the past and the truth about why Bell is back in her life. Is it for love--or for something sinister?


“What brings you back to town?”

“You.” He looked down at me. “I wanted to be with you for the funeral.” As always, he was simple, direct, and to the point.

“Thank you.” I leaned against him, his comforting warmth an antidote to the sudden chill that made me shiver. “Where are you staying?”

He laughed softly. “Didn’t you know? I’m a major stakeholder in that new motel they built out by the hospital. I had a suite built there for me.”

The “new” two-story Kensington Arms Motel was built ten years before on the west side of town, just six blocks away from Mom’s house. It was a significant improvement over the old ten-room roadside motel that had served travelers for half a century. “I’m sure it’s not the Ritz or the Savoy,” I said, moving away from him. A suite at the Kensington was probably two cramped rooms with a whirlpool tub in the john.

His eyes narrowed at my jibe. “It’s clean, quiet, and private. That’s all I really need.”

“Not according to the magazine stories I’ve read about you.” I walked past Peter’s grave to the edge of the bluff. An oak tree, probably a hundred years old, towered over me. It was just losing its leaves to new spring growth and the lawn underneath was strewn with brown detritus. “You’re a celebrity, Bell. It seems like you flit from hot spot to hot spot, always with the most beautiful people. You’re the most eligible bachelor in the world.”

He joined me on the bluff. “Don’t believe everything you read.”

I regarded him skeptically. “Oh, you’re not a bachelor? One of those movie stars finally snagged you? I’ve seen pictures of you with some gorgeous women.”

Bell dug his hands into his jeans pockets and scuffed at the leaves with one sneakered toe. “Yeah, well, it makes for good publicity. It doesn’t mean anything. What about you? You were married, weren’t you?”

“Briefly.” I wrinkled my nose at the memory. “I’d rather be single than married to someone who’s perpetually jealous. The way he acted, I was a femme fatale, breaking men’s hearts from here to the stars and back again.”

“To the stars and back again,” Bell repeated softly. “I haven’t heard that for a long time.”