Secret Attraction. Donna Hill
you can’t have it. Yet every time she saw him, the desire that she felt never lessened. If anything, her longing for him had only increased over the years. But truth be told, she didn’t want to be one of many. Spence Hampton had a line of women whom he’d either dated or who were waiting in line to do so. As far as she knew, there had never been anyone serious in his life and not even Dominique had managed to slow him down.
She didn’t fully understand their relationship, she mused as she slipped under the sheets and turned off the bedside lamp. There was no doubt in her mind that there was an intimacy between them. But she dared not ask. She didn’t think she could stand to hear what she already knew.
Desiree lay on her back. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. Tomorrow is the first day of your brand-new life. She flipped onto her side and shut her eyes.
It was nearly 4:00 a.m. and Spence still couldn’t sleep, so he found himself in his garage with the overhead lights glaring and the shining insides of a 1978 Ford Mustang open for view. Had his passion for cooking not been stronger than his love of working on and restoring cars, he would have been in a completely different business.
His father was a mechanic, and when he was a kid growing up in Memphis, Spence spent many afternoons after school and during the summer watching his father work on cars in his small automotive shop. “If you have a trade, you’ll never be without food on the table,” his father used to always say. And growing up, he always assumed that he would be a mechanic like his father.
He’d been working on the Mustang for about two months. Every night, after closing the restaurant, he would come out to his garage and work on it. It was bright red, with a white leather interior. The body was fully restored and the engine purred like a satisfied kitten. But the soft sounds of the engine belied its truth. The Mustang could reach 120 miles per hour without a shudder.
The restored beauty would fetch a pretty penny if he ever decided to put it on the market, something that his best friend and film producer Dexter Beaumont tried to convince him to do.
Working on a car, to Spence, was akin to unlocking the mysteries of women, their fine lines, sleek and smooth bodies and the power that they possessed beneath their exterior.
He turned off the overhead lights. There wasn’t anything else that he could do with her besides taking her out for a spin and opening her up. It was late, his mind said, but his body needed to release some of his pent up energy. He closed the hood and opened the driver’s side door, got in behind the wheel and inserted the key. A touch of a button and the roof eased back; the engine purred softly beneath him. He put the car in gear and eased out of his garage and into the early morning.
The streets of Baton Rouge were still. A light breeze blew in the spring air. Lamplight joined with the starlight and the half-moon, giving the slow drive an almost surreal feel.
He knew these streets and back routes like he knew his own name. Although he wasn’t a native of Louisiana, he had spent the better part of his life here and wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Above the crest of the trees and homes the first pink rays of daylight began to spread across the inky sky, as if being slowly painted with the stroke of an artist’s hand. He headed for the highway and once there he shifted gears, pressed on the accelerator and soon the city was no more than a tiny image in his rearview mirror.
He drove for more than an hour, relishing in the feel and power of the car. Driving usually relaxed him, took his mind off things he didn’t want to think about. But not tonight. As much as he tried, he couldn’t shake images of Desiree out of his head. On more than one occasion he’d started to talk to Dominique about her sister, but good sense had prevailed. For reasons that he couldn’t put his finger on, he didn’t think that it would sit very well with Dominique. She had her own impressions of him and teased him constantly about his parade of women. What she didn’t know was that the parade was only a replacement for who he really wanted—Desiree Lawson.
He turned onto his street and pulled into his garage. Maybe it was time to do something about his unrequited feelings once and for all.
Chapter 4
Desiree had always known that her twin was determined and single-minded. However, she’d never been on the receiving end of all that focus, and in the first twenty-four hours of their pact, she was already regretting it.
“First I thought we could do some double-dating. Chris, a guy I met a few weeks ago on the tennis court, has some really great-looking friends,” Dominique was saying while she sipped her orange juice.
Desiree groaned. “Dom, you make me sound like some kind of castoff.” She pushed back from the kitchen island counter and walked to the sink.
“Okay, how about this? What if I just invite Chris and one of his friends over here? That way, no pressure, only a friendly gathering at the pool.”
Inwardly, Desiree cringed. She must have been out of her mind or truly desperate to have agreed to this. “Fine,” she said on a breath of frustration.
Dominique clapped and hopped up from her stool. “I’ll give Chris a call.” She pranced out of the kitchen.
“Hey, sis, why the long face?”
Desiree glanced up to see her brother Justin en route to his favorite spot in the house—the refrigerator. Every time she looked at her handsome younger brother, she was reminded of their mom: they both shared the same open and welcoming countenance.
“Oh, just thinking about some issues at work. How is school going?”
He shrugged. “Easy semester. Just looking forward to graduation.”
“It will be here before you know it. Do you think you’re going to take the consulting job or the congressional aide position?”
“I’m still deciding. Both opportunities are great. I want to make the right decision.” He took a carton of eggs and a package of bacon out of the fridge.
“You will.” She smiled. “I have all the confidence in the world in you.”
“Thanks. Man, I sure miss having Lee Ann around.” He took the eggs and bacon to the stove and took down the frying pan from the hanging rack overhead. “She always had breakfast ready on Sunday morning.”
“Yep, Lee Ann always had everything under control. We were spoiled.”
“When is Grace coming back?”
“Hopefully soon, sweetie, and then things can get back to normal,” she teased.
Grace Howard was their longtime housekeeper, who’d gone to her native home of Grenada for more than two months, leaving shortly after Lee Ann’s wedding to take care of her ailing mother.
“She said her mother is much better and getting up and around.”
“That’s good. I mean, I wouldn’t want her to leave her mother but she sure is missed around here.” He lined up the bacon and the pan sizzled.
“Well, I will leave you to your cooking. See you later.” She patted him on his broad shoulders and walked off.
Located on the ground floor of the sprawling mansion were two home offices, one that Desiree used and one that her father used when he was in town. Even though it was Sunday and she could have been lounging on the pool deck, there was paperwork that she wanted to go through to prepare for a community forum later in the week. Rezoning was a major issue in the parish and the residents wanted to have their say.
Just as she was settling down to work, the opening and closing of doors and the sound of voices drifted to her from the front of the house. Her heart tumbled. Pushing back from the desk, she crossed the room to the partially opened door.
Dominique’s laughter floated to her, followed by the rugged baritone of Spence. A slow heat moved through her, even though all she could make out was the impression and resonance of his voice, not the words.
She held the frame of the door to