My Love At Last

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 1 (#ulink_75bebc3c-f11d-547e-af48-00a22fb1e4f2)

Tall, dark, sleek. He stood framed in the doorway. He was clad in all black that only served to emphasize the sensual intensity that wafted around him like musical notes. She watched him, hypnotized by the way his long fingers wrapped around the glass that he lifted to his mouth. He swallowed and could taste the warm amber liquid as it slid down his throat. Sensing his prey, he turned his head slowly in her direction. She should have looked away but she didn’t move. His dark, deep-set eyes sucked her into a vortex of heat that raised the hair on the back of her neck. His mouth, that full, lush mouth, flickered ever so slightly. His eyes settled on her over the rim of his glass and he tipped it subtly in her direction. Her nipples puckered against the fabric of her bra. She shifted her body, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away. A woman crossed her line of vision and played up to him, touching his arm with familiarity, laughing and smiling. She linked her arm through his and they walked out to the back lawn, where the party was in full swing.

Olivia Gray sucked in air, catching the breath that had escaped her. She felt warm all over and her throat was as dry as if she’d slept with her mouth open. She plucked a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter and took a much-needed swallow.

“Having a good time?”

Olivia blinked, turned toward the voice of her hostess. “Yes, Melanie, thanks for inviting me.”

Melanie Harte, owner of The Platinum Society, an elite matchmaking service, was legendary in Sag Harbor for her amazing parties. This one was no exception. “I make it a point that all the newcomers to the Harbor feel welcome and get to know each other.” Her gaze followed the direction of Olivia’s. “His name is Connor Lawson,” she said quietly, with a gleam of knowing in her light eyes.

Olivia flushed. “Who?”

Melanie’s laughter tinkled like fine crystal. “I’m very good at what I do, Olivia, and I know a connection when I see one. The electricity between the two of you lit up the room.” She stepped closer and turned to face Olivia. “I think that an introduction is in order. You both have a lot in common.” She lifted her chin toward the back door. “Lydia won’t hold his attention long. She’s not his type.”

“How do you know all this?”

Melanie sipped her champagne. “Do you want to meet him or not?”

Olivia’s lips parted. “All right.”

They crossed the expanse of the living room, with Melanie stopping every few feet to say a word or make introductions among her guests. She finally stepped outside, scanned the gathering on the lawn. The well-dressed guests lounged at the tables dotting the manicured grass or chatted in tight conversation groups.

“Over there,” Melanie said. She walked in the direction of Connor, who was leaning against a willow tree listening to Lydia.

Olivia followed closely, casually looking about and casting a smile here and there to keep her mind off the next few steps, which would land her right in front of Connor Lawson.

“Connor.” Melanie slid up to him and possessively draped her arm around his waist. “I see Lydia is monopolizing all of your time.” She flashed a false smile at Lydia while she smoothly angled herself between the two of them. “How are you enjoying yourself, Lydia?”

“Wonderful as always.”

“I do want to talk with you about a few things.”

Lydia’s finely arched brows rose in question. “Oh.”

“Excuse my manners. Connor Lawson, this is Dr. Olivia Gray. She’s here from New York on a research project. And you’re working on the restoration of the homestead, right?”

“I am.” He turned the full wattage of his maleness on Olivia.

Her breath hitched. The air around them crackled.

“What are you researching?” he asked her. He pulled her in with his bottomlessness voice.

“The origins of the African-American families of Sag Harbor.” Her own sketchy beginnings might be buried here, but no one needed to know that.

Moonlight pinged the dark orbs of his eyes. “Perhaps we can compare notes.”

“I think that’s a great plan,” Melanie said. “Why don’t you two work out those details while Lydia and I talk about thatthing.” She hooked her arm through Lydia’s and ushered her away before she could form the words of protest.

Connor rolled his gaze toward Olivia, and she turned the energy right back on him. The corner of his mouth quirked into a grin. “You have a New York vibe.”

“And what kind of vibe would that be?”

He took a swallow of his drink. “Sophisticated. Savvy. Sexy.”

The bud between her legs twitched in response. “Do you say that to all the girls from New York?”

“Only the special ones.”

Olivia raked her bottom lip with her teeth.

Connor studied the erotic move and wondered if she was intentionally trying to turn him on. It wouldn’t take much. He’d felt the rise for her the instant he spotted her across the room.

“Melanie said you’re doing restoration work. The Homestead?” she said, shifting the tone and direction of the conversation.

He slid his free hand into his pocket to keep from touching her. “One of the original string of cabins. Challenging work. There’s a lot of history buried out there. Every day is a treasure hunt.”

Olivia felt his energy and his passion from the pitch of his voice and the spark in his eyes. He loved what he did, and she knew that he was good at it. He would be good at anything he did.

“I’d love to see it...what you’re working on. I’m sure it would help me with my own work.”

“We’ll have to work that out, and then you can tell me all about your research.” His eyes snaked over her, teasing her flesh. Was her skin as silky as it looked encased in that body-hugging royal blue? His jaw clenched. And those legs...wrapped around his back.

She brought her glass to her lips. “What got you involved in restoration?”

“Long story.” For the first time his steady gaze wavered. He shifted his body weight. “What about you? What kind of doctor are you?”

“Anthropologist.”

His right brow flicked in admiration. “Beauty and brains.”