One
All the rough spots in Elinor Prescott's life could be traced back to the same source: money. And here she stood, face-to-face with it.
Across the street, the pale, gleaming limousine sat arrogantly ensconced in the No Parking zone in front of town hall. A highly polished symbol of conspicuous consumption that stood out in the small town of Bayville, Louisiana, like a diamond amidst pebbles.
Elinor felt her hackles rise. No doubt about it, Cole Whittier had come back home with a splash.
She punched the crossing button on the utility pole again, willing the signal light to change. Everything seemed to be conspiring against her today. Even the early-afternoon air held an unusual winter bite, tugging at her skirt and slicing through her sweater. If that darned light didn't change soon, she'd be late for the council meeting.
She didn't even know the man, but she wasn't happy with Cole Whittier. Because of him, the grapevine had buzzed all morning, the phone interrupting her work repeatedly. Clients called on the slim pretext of checking their tax records from 1990, and friends called on no pretext at all.
The light changed, and Elinor hoisted her bulky briefcase, stalking across the intersection.
"Mornin', Miss Elinor!" An elderly lady waited on the other curb, her wrinkled face bright with excitement. "You goin' to the council meeting?"
Elinor sighed to herself. The last thing she wanted to hear was more speculation about Millionaire Whittier. But she didn't have the heart to snap at Mrs. Thibadeaux.
"Yes, ma'am," Elinor responded. "I am."
"I hear that sweet boy, Cole Whittier, is in town." The elderly woman sighed gustily. "He always was such a gentleman."
"So I hear." Elinor smiled, shifting her briefcase to her other hand.
Mrs. Thibadeaux leaned forward conspiratorially. "They say he has lots and lots of money these days," she said in lowered tones. "Did you see that beautiful car?"
A sudden gust of wind sliced through Elinor's sweater. "Yes, ma'am, I did," she said, shivering as she glanced in the direction of Mrs. Thibadeaux's nod.
The older woman clutched her coat tighter. "My, my, that wind's terrible. You should be gettin' inside, honey. I'm sure the meetin' will be starting anytime."
"I know," Elinor said, a hint of irony in her voice as she waved good-bye and turned to walk swiftly to the town hall.
The whole town was buzzing with the news. Hometown boy Cole Whittier was back, and he'd come back a millionaire. The gossips seemed to forget that Elinor hadn't lived in Bayville when Cole Whittier had gone off to seek his fortune fourteen years ago.
She'd only come back to her father's hometown two years before, and only then because her mother had died. Respect for Mama's feelings had kept her far from Bayville, but with Mama gone, she'd felt rootless. Coming back to the place that had sheltered her father's family for generations had seemed a natural choice. Seeking out her grandfather, her only living relative, couldn't hurt Mama now.
The small, unremarkable town of Bayville in northeastern Louisiana had felt like home, even though she'd only visited here once before. And now, for the first time after throwing herself headlong into community life, Elinor felt a twinge of regret. She wasn't looking forward to today's town council meeting.
The last thing she wanted to do was watch Mayor Stephens making a fool of himself drooling all over Cole Whittier's millions.
Elinor pulled open the glass door gratefully and walked past the vacant secretary's desk. Mrs. Nutt would be in the council room, placing neatly stacked agendas and notepaper in front of each place.
Wishing fleetingly that she had time to freshen her tumbled hair and warm herself, Elinor went swiftly through the hall to the council room. It was better to be wind- tossed and red-nosed than to walk in after the meeting had begun.
The council chamber buzzed with noise as Elinor slipped through the door and unloaded her briefcase into the nearest chair. A cluster of people stood at the back of the room where Mayor Stephens's boisterous voice rang out.
Elinor frowned as she approached the group reluctantly. Beside the mayor stood Cole Whittier. It had to be him, she reasoned, because she knew everyone else in the room. But more than that, he carried the indefinable aura of wealth and power.
He wasn't particularly tall, probably around six feet, with dark-blond hair that emphasized his healthy tan. His charcoal-gray suit reeked of money and fit so well, it only gave hints of Cole Whittier's lean, muscular build.
Cole stood at the back of the chamber, greeting a local businessman, his friendly gaze focused intently as he listened. A confident smile sat comfortably on his face as if he weren't often without it. As Elinor watched, his laugh rang out, deep and genuine.
She felt a zing of awareness zip through her body, his laughter rippling over her like a caress. A sensation of regret shimmered briefly in her. Not only was Cole Whittier loaded with loot, he was also a hunk and a half.
As Elinor slowly drew nearer, Cole Whittier's gaze shifted, slicing past the group around him, to focus on her. The full impact of his scrutiny hit her like a shock-wave. He met her eyes as if homing in on her, as if he'd known she was there all along. Almost as if he'd been waiting for her.
Feeling riveted to the spot, Elinor gazed back, her mind registering his strong features. Her earlier observation had been right; he did smile a lot. The laugh lines bracketing his strong, sensual mouth indicated that. His features were even and pleasant, but his eyes left her wanting to gasp.
They were a deep blue, pure and soft. The kind of eyes women raved about. Movie star eyes. Eyes a woman would remember forever.
But that wasn't all that left Elinor stunned. Beautiful men were nice to look at, but this man was something else. In that moment, with his gaze pinned on hers, Elinor had, for the first time in her practical, down-to-earth life, a brush with ESP.
She knew, absolutely and without reason, that despite his affable exterior, Cole Whittier had a purpose here in Bayville. Without a doubt, he was a man to be reckoned with.
Elinor would have loved nothing more than to forget the formalities of being introduced to the wealthy Mr. Whittier. But the man had seen her standing there and she darned well wasn't going to turn tail and run now.
"Bob . . ." Cole Whittier's voice snagged the mayor's attention. "Introduce me to the lady."
"What?" Mayor Stephens seemed to see Elinor for the first time. "Why, of course. Excuse me, Elly."