Seducing Celeste Read online

  “You feel so good in my arms.”

  He ran hot kisses across her cheek to her ear. “Don’t go. Stay the night.”

  Her heart took a sudden dive. “You know I can’t.”

  “You know you want to.” His words sent splinters of ice dancing along her spine.

  “Oh, Drew. You know me so well. Too well. It would be so simple to fall back into something that had been so…easy.”

  “Not to mention so good between us.”

  “We were good, Drew. But we said our goodbyes and moved on.”

  He shook his head. “We didn’t move on. We just moved apart.”

  “Either way, it would be a mistake to let ourselves slip back, just for the sake of old times.”

  “Is that what you think? That what we felt just now was nostalgia?”

  Dear Reader,

  You’ve loved Beverly Barton’s miniseries THE PROTECTORS since it started, so I know you’ll be thrilled to find another installment leading off this month. Navajo’s Woman features a to-swoon-for Native American hero, a heroine capable of standing up to this tough cop—and enough steam to heat your house. Enjoy!

  A YEAR OF LOVING DANGEROUSLY continues with bestselling author Linda Turner’s The Enemy’s Daughter. This story of subterfuge and irresistible passion—not to mention heart-stopping suspense—is set in the Australian outback, and I know you’ll want to go along for the ride. Ruth Langan completes her trilogy with Seducing Celeste, the last of THE SULLIVAN SISTERS. Don’t miss this emotional read. Then check out Karen Templeton’s Runaway Bridesmaid, a reunion romance with a heroine who’s got quite a secret. Elane Osborn’s Which Twin? offers a new twist on the popular twins plotline, while Linda Winstead Jones rounds out the month with Madigan’s Wife, a wonderful tale of an ex-couple who truly belong together.

  As always, we’ve got six exciting romances to tempt you—and we’ll be back next month with six more. Enjoy!

  Leslie J. Wainger

  Executive Senior Editor

  Seducing Celeste

  RUTH LANGAN

  Books by Ruth Langan

  Silhouette Intimate Moments

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  §The Wildes of Wyoming— Hazard #997

  §The Wildes of Wyoming— Ace #1009

  **Awakening Alex #1054

  **Loving Lizbeth #1060

  **Seducing Celeste #1065

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  Just Like Yesterday #121

  Hidden Isle #224

  No Gentle Love #303

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  Outlaw Brides

  “Maverick Hearts”

  Harlequin Historicals

  Christmas Stories 1990

  “Christmas at Bitter Creek”

  RUTH LANGAN

  Award-winning and bestselling author Ruth Langan creates characters that Affaire de Coeur magazine has called “so incredibly human the reader will expect them to come over for tea.” Four of Ruth’s books have been finalists for the Romance Writers of America’s (RWA) RITA Award. Over the years, she has given dozens of print, radio and TV interviews, including some for Good Morning America and CNN News, and has been quoted in such diverse publications as the The Wall Street Journal, Cosmopolitan and The Detroit Free Press. Married to her childhood sweetheart, she has raised five children and lives in Michigan, the state where she was born and raised.

  For Ryan Paul Langan, a very special gift to his parents,

  Mike and Patty, and his sisters, Kelly and Riley.

  For his grandfather, Paul Cornish,

  guardian angel and one of heaven’s brightest lights.

  And for his other grandfather, Tom Langan,

  who owns my heart.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Paris, 1979

  “Grandpa Sully. Grandpa Sully.” Three little girls eagerly flung themselves into the arms of the handsome, ruddy Irishman as soon as he stepped into the courtyard of the Paris hotel.

  Patrick Joseph Sullivan, patriarch of the Sullivan clan, was called Paddy by his friends, and Grandpa Sully by his adored granddaughters.

  “Oh, how I’ve missed this. Missed the three of you.” He scooped them up one by one, loving the feel of chubby arms around his neck and wet, sloppy kisses on his mouth.

  “Look what I made you, Grandpa Sully.” Alex, the oldest, and an avowed tomboy, handed him a bird’s nest she’d found beneath a tree.

  “Well, isn’t this grand.” He knelt beside her and accepted her gift with all the delight of a boy on his birthday. “And what’s this inside?”

  “Eggshell. One of the baby birds left his shell behind when he flew away. See? It’s speckled.” She held up the fragments for his inspection.

  “I see.”

  “Next year, if we’re still here, I’m going to climb up the tree and visit the babies before they’re old enough to fly.”

  “We won’t be here next year.” Celeste, the youngest of the three, with red hair and enormous green eyes, spoke with an air of authority.

  “And why won’t you?” her grandfather asked.

  “Because Mama says hotel people don’t live anywhere for more than a year.”

  “Right you are, my little darlin’. And why is that?”

  “Because there’s always a new hotel needing our help.”

  “Right again.” He turned to his middle granddaughter. “What’s this? A gift for me?”

  Lizbeth dimpled. “It’s called a scone. Cook let me help her in the kitchen this morning. I baked this just for you, Grandpa Sully.”

  He took a bite and gave a hum of pleasure. “Now that was worth flying all the way from Venice, Lizzybeth. I hope you’ll make me more before I leave.”

  “I’m going to make you fifty jillion, Grandpa Sully.” Delighted at the success of her gift, the little girl danced away to pester the hotel cook for mor
e lessons.

  The old man turned to his youngest granddaughter, so serious, so solemn, who had patiently waited her turn, holding her gift behind her back.

  “Do you have something for me, darlin’ lass?”

  She nodded and lifted her hand to reveal a lovely pen and ink drawing of a weathered New England building.

  Patrick Sullivan studied it with a look of admiration. “Did you draw this freehand, or did you trace it?”

  “I drew it, Grandpa Sully. I heard you telling Mama and Papa that it was time for another hotel, and I thought this looked like a nice one.”

  “A nice one indeed. Where did you see it?”

  “In a travel poster. It was in a place called New Hamster.”

  He threw back his head and roared. “That’s New Hampshire, lass. A pretty state in the eastern United States.”

  “Have you been there, Grandpa?”

  “Indeed I have. That’s where my hunting lodge is. Maybe I’ll take you there next summer. Would you like that?”

  The little girl nodded, and for the first time her smile came, bright enough to rival the sun. “Maybe some day I’ll live in a hotel in New Hamst…New Hampshire.”

  Her grandfather gave her a quick hug. “If you do, lass, I’ll expect it to be the most profitable hotel in our chain.”

  “It will be, Grandpa Sully.”

  “That’s my girl.” He caught her hand and started inside the elegant Paris hotel that the children and their parents currently called home.

  It occurred to Paddy Sullivan that of his three granddaughters, this one was the most like him. Driven to be the best at whatever she chose to do. She seemed to not only adapt to change, but to thrive on it. She loved mastering the language and learning the customs of every country in which she lived. And her exposure to art, music and style throughout the world had already given her a cosmopolitan air unusual in one so young.

  Oh, this one was a Sullivan, through and through.

  He had no doubt that his darlin’ Celeste would succeed at whatever she set her mind to.

  Chapter 1

  Liberty, New Hampshire

  “Good morning, Miss Celeste.” The old man holding open the elevator door of the Old Liberty Tavern looked as weathered as the building he guarded so zealously. But, despite the lines etched deeply into his face, and the thatch of white hair, there was a perpetual twinkle in his blue eyes. He stood ramrod straight, the crease in his trousers perfectly pressed, the tip of a crisp handkerchief peeking from the breast pocket of his navy jacket.

  Jeremiah Cross was a fixture at the Old Liberty Tavern, starting work as a dishwasher when he’d been so small he’d had to stand on a stool to reach the sink. He could still remember a time where there had been a barn behind the building for the travelers’ horses. Now he greeted guests, held doors and did whatever needed doing, all with warmth and wry New England charm.

  “Good morning, Jeremiah.” Celeste Sullivan gave him a bright smile. She couldn’t decide whether it had been this man, one of her grandfather’s closest friends, or the location that had first won her heart. A year in this picturesque setting wasn’t nearly enough. The old Yankee town of Liberty was New England to its core. It could have easily been used on travel posters, nestled as it was between the massive slopes of the White Mountains and bounded by pristine lakes and woods of towering pine. There was even a covered bridge and an ancient mill still operating beside a sparkling pond.

  “The weatherman says it’s going to be a perfect summer day.”

  He smiled. “Yes, indeed. A good thing, too. The Rotary Club plans on holding its monthly luncheon in the courtyard.”

  “Thanks for reminding me, Jeremiah.” She swept past him into the foyer, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll be sure to put in an appearance.”

  “They’ll appreciate that, my dear.”

  Bitsy Hillerman, home from college for the summer, stood at the reception area talking on the phone. Her name was actually Betsy, but because of her tiny stature she’d been dubbed Bitsy by the other employees. She looked up and waved as her boss breezed past. Celeste returned the salute before disappearing inside her office.

  “’Morning, Ms. Sullivan.” Celeste’s new assistant-in-training, Daniel O’Malley, got to his feet and reached over the desk to hand her a bundle of papers. Recently arrived from the Sullivan-owned Castle Dunniefey in Ireland, his brogue was thick enough to cut.

  “Your mail. And a list of today’s activities. There’s to be a luncheon in the courtyard at noon.”

  Celeste nodded. “The Rotary Club. What else?”

  He scanned the list. “The B.M.C. Corporation is scheduled for the main dining room. A business lunch and motivational speaker. They’re scheduled to end at five. There’s a wine-tasting, sponsored by the local restaurants to benefit the Liberty Children’s Hospital, from six-thirty to eight, followed by Dinner Under The Stars in the courtyard. And the Liberty High School is taking over the ballroom tonight for their prom.”

  When he paused to take a breath, Celeste gave a smile of satisfaction. “Well, Daniel, I’d say that’s a pretty fair Friday.”

  So much for the fear that the Old Liberty Tavern was doomed for the wrecking ball. She’d been here less than a year and already the profits were through the roof. Of course, she’d had to give up any thought of a social life to achieve her goal. And she’d moved from a nearby cottage on the grounds to a top-floor suite so that she could be closer to her work. Work which often ran to eighteen-and twenty-hour days.

  Still, she thought as she turned toward her inner office, success was the sweetest revenge.

  With her hand on the knob, Daniel said, “If you could wait a bit, Ms. Sullivan.”

  She glanced over her shoulder.

  “There’s someone in there to see you.”

  “Really? Who?”

  “A representative from Van Dorn Hotels.” Daniel picked up a business card from his desk. “Mr. Andrew Hampton.”

  Celeste’s smile faded as she accepted the card from his hand. She stared at the name as though unable to believe what she was reading. Then she leaned a hand on the back of a chair to steady herself as she read his title. Executive vice-president.

  He’d wasted no time.

  It took her only an instant to compose herself. By the time she turned toward her door, there was no sign of the nerves simmering just below the surface.

  She opened the door and stepped into her inner office, smoothly switching the papers to her left hand so that she could offer a handshake to the man who got quickly to his feet.

  “Hello, Drew.”

  “Celeste.”

  She kept the contact brisk, impersonal. If she felt a sizzle of heat along her arm, she ignored it as she stepped around her desk and took a seat.

  Her visitor did the same, waiting until she was seated to settle himself in the chair, crossing his legs at the ankles in a relaxed manner. She wondered if it was all a pose. The Drew Hampton she’d known was about as relaxed as a panther coiled on a high perch, about to strike any unsuspecting prey foolish enough to let down its guard.

  Celeste was grateful for the desk between them. But it wasn’t nearly enough of a barrier to protect her from the almost palpable energy that seemed to radiate from this man.

  How was it possible for him to look even better than she remembered? Tall. Tan. Fit. His dark hair cut razor short. Those gray eyes full of shadow and mystery. His lips, those incredible lips, smiling at her in a way that always managed to tug at her heart.

  “What brings you to the States, Drew? I thought you’d found a home on the French Riviera. Or was it London?”

  “London. But the powers-that-be at Van Dorn Hotels decided they wanted to turn my talents in another direction.”

  She glanced at his business card, then tossed it aside. “I see you’ve climbed the corporate ladder.”

  He nodded. “I’m in purchasing.”

  “As in supplies?”

  He heard the hint of sarcasm. H
is smile was slow and lazy. “Hotel sites. We’re looking to expand across the country.”

  “What are you doing in Liberty? Isn’t this just a little off the beaten track?”

  “Not at all. In fact, it’s come to our attention that, after charting its profits for the past year, this historic old inn has become a prime piece of property.”

  Even while she absorbed the pleasure of knowing that her success was being followed by the competition, she felt a quick sting of annoyance. “Sorry. It’s not for sale.”

  “That’s not what your grandfather hinted.”

  She stiffened. Her voice took on an edge of anger. “You talked to Grandpa Sully about this?”

  “He’s still chairman of the board of Sullivan Hotels, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, but…”

  Drew held up a hand. “I don’t want you to think I was going behind your back, Celeste. But you know how these things work. Van Dorn stated their intention. Sullivan Hotels invited us to observe the operation and look over the books, before making an offer to purchase.”

  Her hands closed around the edge of the desk, gripping so tightly her knuckles whitened. “Grandpa Sully gave you permission to…observe my operation?”

  “He not only gave his permission…” Drew shrugged. “…he encouraged me to spend as much time as I wanted. I’d call that a friendly overture toward arriving at some sort of amicable arrangement that would suit both our companies.” He gave her a measured look. “I’m surprised he didn’t call and let you know I’d be coming.”

  Knowing her grandfather, he’d have called her private number rather than her business phone. Celeste thought about the telephone answering machine in her suite. Had she remembered to play it the last couple of nights? Not that she could recall. She’d put in so many hours, starting at dawn, finally collapsing into bed after midnight, she’d barely had time to wash off her makeup before it was time to get dressed again.

  “He may have called.” The way Drew was watching her made her yearn for somewhere to hide. He knew her well enough to see through her discomfort. “I’m afraid I’ll be too busy today to show you around. But if you’d like my assistant…”

  He was already on his feet, his smile still in place. “That isn’t necessary. I assure you, Celeste, I don’t intend to get in your way. Just go about your business as though I’m not even here. I’ll just tag along like your shadow.” He started toward the door, then turned. “The young woman at the reservation desk, Bitsy, has already offered to see to my room. I’m afraid it will have to be an open-ended reservation, since I don’t know how long I’ll be here. No more than a day or two at most.”