Lane blinked, drawn out of her thoughts. "Mary-Sue?"

"Yeah, she had braids and red hair. She didn't want to share my swing with me."

"I can only a.s.sume from experience that you badgered her to give in."

His smile was self-deprecating. "She socked me in the eye. Knocked me flat on my back."

Lane laughed. She could see it, Tyler staring up at an angry redhead telling him, "Boys are stupid."

"Must be the red hair," he said, and she elbowed him.

"Do you always think you're going to get everything you want?"

He thought about that. "If I didn't, I wouldn't go after anything at all. My mom says I'm like a terrier with a bone. I refuse to give up. Just so you know that."

She rolled her eyes. "Gee. Thanks for the news flash. I'm flattered, Tyler."

He made a face. "I don't want you to be flattered. I want you to give in." He pushed himself up slightly, leaning as he did, his intent to kiss her clear to anyone who was watching.

"And then what?"

He stilled, halfway to his target. "Then what, what?"

"Then what happens? Suppose you have me, Tyler, we share some fun, a bed. Then what?"

"I'm not looking for a lifetime commitment, Lane."

Her brows drew down. "So all this pursuing is for the Winter Ball? For a dance?"

He sat up, his gaze probing, and she wondered what or who he was dissecting himself or her? "No. Of course not."

A calm settled over her and she sighed against the post, staring out into the street. People milled past, searching for their cars and home.

"Me, neither. And I told you before, I'm not prepared to be the talk of the town, one of your conquests, and then be left to gather up the pieces. Trust me when I say I've been there, done that."

She stood and walked to the door, unlocking it.

"Lane?"

"Good night, Tyler."

He was still staring at the door when the lock snicked and the lights went off.

Well, dang, he thought. Now what?

Nalla Campanelli was an exquisitely beautiful woman. She didn't work very hard to be so, a fact that was irritating to half the females in the town. Lane admired Nalla for her approach to life, which was full throttle. She was as comfortable in a power suit as she was in denim cutoffs and a tank top. Though her restaurant was small, it was on the newly renovated waterfront. Prime real estate and her customers came for the spectacular view and the comfortable atmosphere. You could have a quiet, elegant four-course meal in the Cracked Crab on the upper level, or you could make a complete pig of yourself and a huge mess smacking soft-sh.e.l.led crabs with a mallet at the ground floor tables. The restaurant was an extension of Nalla, both elegant and laid-back.

It was closed now, but after hours was when Lane got to try the latest additions to the menu. Now she was tasting the puff pastry.

"I know you'll tell me honestly." Nalla twirled her long braid of bright red hair, then tossed it over her shoulder.

"Too much salt. It's not enhancing the pastry, it's overpowering it."

Nalla nodded, making a note in a big binder. "The filling?"

"Sorry, all I can taste is salt."

"Okay, tomorrow I'll give it another try before I put it on the menu."

"I'm going to be huge if we keep this up," Lane said.

"You're the only one who'll tell me the truth. My staff thinks I'll fire them if they don't like my creations."

Nalla opened a bottle of wine; filled two goblets and handed one to Lane. "Let's go upstairs. The breeze is great this time of day."

Lane followed Nalla. They'd just settled on the porch on the upper level when Nalla said, "So tell me about Tyler."

"Should I ask about Kyle?"

Nalla looked at her winegla.s.s, then propped her bare feet on the rail. "Maybe another time, okay?"

It must really hurt, Lane thought. Nalla was usually open about her emotions. "Tyler is in hot pursuit and he won't take no for an answer. He wants to take me to the Winter Ball."

"Do you want to say no?"

"Of course not. But not only is he not looking for a lasting relations.h.i.+p, I can't risk Dan Jacobs or any other reporter finding me, and Tyler McKay dines with the governor. And Dan's been paid for a story he didn't finish. That makes him dangerous. He and every other reporter like him want more. My father is the only one who knows where I am, and I made him swear himself to secrecy."

"I say you should confess to him. Tyler would protect you."

"But I've been lying to him and he hates lies."

"No, you're protecting yourself. There's a difference. Once Tyler knows the awful things Dan Jacobs did, I bet he goes charging off to defend your honor."

"I can't count on that. I don't know how he'd react to the truth about my ident.i.ty."

"You falling for this guy, aren't you, Elaina?"

It felt good to have someone call her by her real name. "I think so."

"Do you want to sleep with him?"

She remembered what Tyler had said about no sleeping at all. "Oh, yeah."

"Maybe it isn't the press-corps threat that's bothering you. If you have Tyler, that means you have to be a part of something, and you've been a part of nothing for so long."

Lane felt tears wet her eyes and she unpinned her hair. The breeze immediately whipped it back. "You can't know what it was like." Microphones in her face, flashbulbs popping in her bedroom windows, seeing her photograph in the morning paper...

"You're right, I can only imagine," Nalla said. "You lost everything. The man you thought you loved, your reputation, your showing and the deal with that chain of stores that was going to carry your clothing line it had to be devastating. But are you prepared to just shut yourself off from the world for the rest of your life? You do, and the media still wins. Dan Jacobs still wins. I say fight back."

"I tried." Whatever she'd said to the press was misconstrued. Dan was one of their own and they were certain he was telling the truth. The fact that she and her father had given the FBI the winery books to prove there wasn't any money laundering didn't make it into the headlines.

"No, I mean, fight for yourself alone, not the career. Not the family. I know you fought for them."

"And lost."

"But you make the choices now, Elaina, not them. If Dan Jacobs shows up, sic Tyler on him." Nalla took a sip of wine and shrugged. "Heck, sic all the McKays."

Lane swallowed half her wine in two big gulps. She was tired of lying and hiding. And like Cinderella, she really wanted to go to the ball.

"Just think about it, okay? We still have the Midnight Jubilee, the sailing races, the rodeo out by the Stanley farm, the craft shows, and there's that concert in the park, which is my favorite part of the Winter Festival."

"Good grief." Lane hadn't partic.i.p.ated last year too busy keeping a low profile and had forgotten about the events.

"Oh, wait till Jubilee. The street looks like we rolled back time. White lights, carolers, period costumes, and ... you need to dress better."

"Excuse me?"

"Way better."

Lane looked down at the rust-colored outfit she was wearing. A good color for her, just too many layers, which had been her intention.

"Come on, Lane. You need to be festive." Excitement sparkled in Nalla's eyes. "This is the prelude to Christmas, and it's like a fantasy. Hors d'oeuvres served in the street by men in livery, shopping, socializing. Parties." Nalla lifted her arms and wiggled in the chair.

Lane considered how festive she needed to get. "What will you be wearing?"

Nalla's smile was slow. "A fabulous, slinky, blue-beaded c.o.c.ktail dress that I saved for a year to buy."

"A year? It must have cost a fortune. I'd love to see it."

"You have."

Lane's brows drew together.

"It's one of your designs."

Chapter 7.

Nalla had been right.

The Midnight Jubilee was like a fantasy.

Much of the historic district had been blocked off. Shops were closed early to be open late until after the concert in the park. During the day, white lights had been strung in the small trees and bushes lining the streets, as well as the lampposts, and shop owners had prepared amazing displays for their windows.

Lane had spent the morning fussing over hers. Her wide windowsills were draped in rippling blue velvet, white lights and glitter displaying the books and other items her shop offered.

As well as adding two more radio spots to the ones she'd already arranged, she'd contracted Nalla to prepare a delicious variety of appetizers. They'd be a draw in themselves, Lane thought. As the other shop owners had done, she'd set up a booth in the street offering free wine and appetizers to the people strolling by. Soft, string music drifted from speakers positioned down Bay Street, and the employees on the street were dressed in period clothing.

At seven, the Antebellum Verder house's magnificent federal staircase would be lined with carolers in period dress, singing for the towns folk. Here they were towns folk, she thought as she swept open her doors at sunset and greeted people. The entire area was alive with energy and excitement.

And it didn't take long for Lane's delight to turn to panic.

Who'd have thought there would be so many people? She attributed it to the author who was signing her latest novel and who knew just about everyone that walked through the door. The woman a.s.sured Lane she could manage on her own. Lane rushed from the register, to the table of food, to the author. Then she was off to root through stock or shelves to find books for customers. And then there was the coffee bar. The temperature had dropped and people wanted hot cappuccinos and lattes, instead of wine and sodas.

It was a never-ending cycle, and Lane was glad she was wearing a shorter skirt and loose jacket tonight. She would have been tripping over her own feet in an ankle-length skirt. She was kicking herself for not hiring help. She'd have at least liked the opportunity to talk to some of these people, instead of racing about.

Tyler took in the chaos and crowds in the small store.

"My goodness, look at all these people," his sister, Kate, said, coming in behind him.

Startled to see her, he gave her a kiss on the forehead and said, "I bet she didn't expect it." Tyler moved through the crowd toward Lane, who was rus.h.i.+ng around and looking a little frazzled.

"Hey, Lane."

She punched numbers on the register and looked up as it spit out a receipt. "Hi." Man, he looked good, she thought, flus.h.i.+ng at the sight of him. The blue sweater made his eyes look bluer and his shoulders bigger. And right now, she wanted to lean on them. "Wish I could chat, but..." She bagged the books, added a couple bookmarks, then handed it to her customer. "Thank you. And I'll call you with that book search this week."

She immediately went to the coffee bar and started making coffees for the people lined up at the counter. Tyler's gaze s.h.i.+fted to the customers headed for the register, to the author, the food table and the young woman who was obviously looking for her.

"Uh-oh," Tyler said, inclining his head to his sister. He hurried over to Lane.

"Need some help?"

"No, yes I'll get back to you on that."

Tyler slipped behind the counter and grabbed mugs and napkins for her as she a.s.sembled the different coffees. "I'm capable and my sister is here."

Her head jerked up. "Your sister!"

The dark-haired woman smiled. Lane instantly saw the resemblance. "Hi, I'm Kate."

Lane blinked at her, working the espresso machine without really having to look. "h.e.l.lo. It's nice of you to drop by."

"Just what you needed, huh? Another customer?" Kate said with a glance at the packed little shop.