Page 1 of The Cottage on Pelican Bay

1

Two years and nine months ago

“Vaughn, my flight made it to New Orleans,” Zara said into the phone as the sound of thunder grew louder. “But with the weather the way it is, I won’t try driving to Catalina Cove tonight. I’ll take a shuttle to one of the hotels at the airport and stay until morning.” Another clap of thunder was almost deafening.

“That’s the best thing,” Vaughn Miller said to his sister. “Although the hurricane isn’t headed this way, it’s causing enough wind and rain to make you think it is. I understand several trees are down on the main road from New Orleans to here anyway,” he added. Catalina Cove was an hour drive from New Orleans.

“My goodness. I just heard that the airport is closing and won’t reopen until tomorrow sometime. I feel sorry for all those people who’d come to New Orleans for the summer music festival and can’t get a flight to return home,” she said.

“Well, hopefully, they won’t be stranded for long. Things are supposed to be better tomorrow, Zara.”

“Let’s hope so,” she replied.

For Zara, this was an unplanned trip. She was coming home to lick her wounds and Vaughn was the one person capable of cheering her up. When she’d called to let him know she was flying in, he hadn’t asked why. He’d just said he would be there when she arrived. More than anything she needed her big brother’s hug.

Home...

She hadn’t thought of Catalina Cove as home since she’d left for college over ten years ago. “I’m hoping to see you tomorrow, Vaughn.”

“Same here.”

A short while later, after Zara had checked in to her hotel room, she was ready to go to the hotel’s bar for a drink to calm her stressed nerves. Although her flight had landed safely, the turbulence had been almost unbearable.

When Zara entered the bar, not surprisingly it was crowded with people, mostly stranded travelers who probably needed a drink to unwind as much as she did. She was about to turn and go back to her room and order room service when her gaze connected with a man sitting across the bar.

And he was staring at her.

She’d been the object of men’s interest before; however, usually they weren’t the object of hers. At least not with this intensity. He was absolutely gorgeous, and the way he was staring at her had certain parts of her inwardly quivering, while warm blood rushed through every vein in her body. Strong sensual vibes were radiating between them even from across the room.

And he was sitting alone...

Zara drew in a deep breath. Should she? Umm...why not? She’d always let the guy make the first move, but doing that hadn’t gotten her anything but a man who’d cheated on her. As far as she was concerned, there was no time to play coy. She was a single woman and thanks to an unfaithful boyfriend, she was no longer in a committed relationship.

But then what about that legs closed, options open rule she’d implemented after her breakup with Maurice four months ago? She had kept her legs closed. So why did she view this guy as a viable option? For the first time in her life, she felt like a woman on the prowl and that man who was sending out all these deep, sexual vibes to her was her intended target. Her legs began moving as she scooted around tables and chairs, making a beeline in his direction.

What if he was married? Gay? Or just didn’t want to be bothered? But the way he was looking at her could eliminate all three possibilities. The handsome man stood as she approached his table. The way his gaze was roaming over her, he was taking in everything about her. From that smile on his face, he liked what he saw. His expression wasn’t lecherous by any means. It was warm yet appraising.

Her eyes were just as assessing, and she thought he looked pretty darn good in those jeans and pullover shirt. Her gaze shifted to his hands. Specifically, the third finger of the left one. He wasn’t wearing a ring and there wasn’t an indication one had been there. She figured his age to be thirty-five or -six. He had cocoa-colored skin, brown bedroom eyes, a nose that added a perfect symmetry with his features, and a pair of sensual-looking lips.

When she reached him, he extended his hand. “Hello, I’m Saint. Would you like to join me?”

Suddenly, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to join him or not. It was bad enough his eyes were dazzling her, but the deep huskiness of his voice was making her stomach somersault. Then there was his touch when she took the hand he offered. A rush of desire clawed her insides. Never had she felt such primal attraction to a man before. What in the world was wrong with her? He even smelled good. His masculine scent filled her nostrils as she inhaled.

“Hello, Saint. I’m Angel, and I’d love to join you.” From the twinkle that appeared in his eyes, she knew he didn’t for one minute believe her name was Angel, just like she didn’t believe his name was Saint.

When Zara sat down, she decided not to beat around the bush, and asked, “Are you married, Saint?”

“No,” he said, reclaiming his chair.

“What about engaged or in an exclusive relationship?”

“No to both. What about you, Angel? Are you married, engaged or in an exclusive relationship?”

Fair question. “Not anymore.”

He lifted a brow. “To which of the three?”

“I’m no longer in an exclusive relationship,” she said.

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