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Chapter One

More than one hundred years old, and Stewart Manor was still a sight to behold.

Rafe Covelli drove his truck through the wrought-iron gates and gazed at the three-story structure. Years ago this place had been one of Haven Springs’s most regal homes. Even the missing shingles and peeling trim paint couldn’t take away from the grandeur of the architecture.

Ever since he’d been a kid, it had fascinated him. He’d ridden by on his bike and stared at the big, haunted-looking house, wondering what it would be like to live in such a place. His imagination had dreamed up all sorts of secret passages, hidden rooms and a few ghosts.

None of it was true, of course. The grand house had been built for wealthy businessman William Stewart, who had been mayor of Haven Springs at the turn of the century. His son, William, Jr., and his wife had lived here along with their only child, a daughter named Hannah. As a boy, Rafe remembered nice Miss Hannah, who’d never married and lived in the house until her death three years ago.

A distant cousin inherited the estate, but not wanting the big house, he put Stewart Manor up for auction. The town’s landmark sold for a fraction of its worth. This was the first time someone other than a Stewart was going to live there.

Rafe stopped his truck in front of the house and noticed the woman standing on the porch. It looked like he was about to meet Haven Springs’s newest resident, Ms. Shelby Harris.

Grabbing his clipboard, he climbed out of the cab. He made his way up the walkway, flanked by overgrown weeds, to the porch steps.

“Ms. Harris?” He tipped his baseball cap with the Covelli and Sons logo. “I’m Rafe Covelli.”

The woman appeared to be in her late twenties. She nodded. “Thank you for coming by, Mr. Covelli.”

“No problem. I’ve been working in the area. We’re doing the facade restoration on the houses up the street.”

When Rafe climbed the steps, he was surprised to find that the woman was nearly eye to eye with him. He was over six feet, so Shelby Harris had to be at least five-ten. A quick glance told him her height was all in a pair of long, slender legs, encased right now in a pair of nicely fitted jeans. His gaze moved to her narrow waist, then to the cotton T-shirt that did little to hide full breasts. His pulse began to race in appreciation. It had been a while since a stranger this appealing had come to town. The last had been Jill Morgan, who recently married his younger brother, Rick. Rafe’s gaze moved to her oval face, framed by short brown curls, and his heart did a somersault as he met the most incredible green eyes he’d ever seen.

His scrutiny seemed to make her nervous and she glanced away. “As I told you on the phone, I plan to turn Stewart Manor into a bed-and-breakfast inn.”

Rafe let out a low whistle. “And I explained that was going to take some work. And money.”

“I’m not afraid of work, Mr. Covelli,” she said. “But if you can’t handle the job...”

The woman was prickly as a cactus. “I didn’t say I couldn’t handle the job.” He stepped off the porch and squinted into the bright August sun, looking up at the massive structure, then began to calculate the things that needed immediate attention. The gables along the top story were badly in need of repair—the wood was weathered and rotted in some places. That was Rick’s specialty; maybe he could drag his brother out here to do the job. The roof was in bad shape and needed to be replaced. That meant the inside had to have rain damage.

He glanced back at her. “How much time and money do you have, Ms. Harris?”

“That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

The look on her face told him he was in trouble. Damn. He’d seen that same expression on his sister’s face too many times. This was serious. Something was up and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what. “Okay, talk.”

Her back straightened stubbornly. “Most of my ready cash went into buying this house. It will be a month or so before I have more available. Right now I need to be a little frugal. I thought maybe we could work out some sort of...deal.”

Rafe knew he should turn around, climb back into his truck and drive off. He had enough of his own problems without giving away his time. But something kept him rooted to the spot. Maybe he was curious about why a single woman wanted to buy this old house and turn it into a bed-and-breakfast. And the longing in her sparkling eyes made him ask, “What do you have in mind?”

Shelby stepped into the sun, which brought out the coppery highlights in her dark hair. “Because of the historical status of this house, all the facade repair is covered under the federal grant money.”

Rafe nodded. “We’re already handling that.”

“Yes, I’ve seen your work around town. You’re very good. But I need more done. I would like you to check the roof and have a look at the front rooms inside. Tell me how much it would cost to fix it up—” she hesitated and took a deep breath “—a little at a time. The bare necessities. Enough so I can open for business.”

Rafe held back his smile. “Haven Springs isn’t exactly overflowing with tourists.”

“But with the summer there’s the lake traffic, and then in the fall people come to see the foliage. I plan to advertise—there are people who like to stay in historical homes. After a few months I’ll be able to afford to continue the work on restoring Stewart Manor.”

There was that stubborn attitude again. Her full mouth drew into a pouty bow and something stirred in his gut. Damn.

“Let’s have a look, then.” He returned to the porch and walked to the heavy oak door with its oval cut-glass center. He opened it and stepped over the threshold into a huge entryway. A dim coolness greeted him as he stood on the bare hardwood floors. A magnificent chandelier hung from the high ceiling, edged with oak crown molding. The staircase across the hall made its way to the second story. Several spindles were missing in the banister, and a few of the steps were also missing.

“You’d better stay off the stairs until I’ve checked them out,” he said as he turned to his left and entered the front room, what used to be called the parlor.

Shelby stood back and watched the cocky Mr. Covelli move around her house. So he thought she was helpless. That she had to be warned about obvious dangers. Well, she had news for him. She’d spent her entire life taking care of herself and could do it just fine.

She’d asked around and knew he was her best chance for a fair deal. Worse, he knew it, too.

She went after him only to find him standing at the three double-hung windows and eying the frames. Then he glanced down at the ornate woodwork along the baseboards. He squatted for a closer look. She couldn’t help but notice the nice curve of his rear end, the way his muscular thighs strained against the fabric of his worn jeans. Her gaze moved to his chambray shirt as the muscles of his broad shoulders and back flexed. A shiver of awareness raced through her. She quickly raised her eyes to his face and found him in deep concentration. His bronze skin bespoke his Italian ancestry and the fact that he worked in the sun.

His eyes were chocolate brown and mesmerizing. His coal-black hair was cropped short around the ears. He pulled off his cap and his thick mane still appeared neatly combed. She somehow knew that was the way Rafe Covelli’s life was. All in neat, organized order. Everything cut and dried. Black or white.

The complete opposite of hers.

She doubted he would go along with her idea. It was beginning to seem crazy even to her.

“Well, Ms. Harris,” he said as he stood and faced her, “there’s bad news. You’ve had a water leak around these two west windows.” He pointed out the spots.

Shelby’s gaze was glued to his large hand with the long, tapered fingers. Strong, capable hands that carved wood. She couldn’t help but wonder how the roughened palms would feel on her skin.... She blinked away the thought and turned her attention back to what he was saying.

“First, I’ll have to go up to the attic and find the leaks, then I’ll have to replace these frames and tear out the plaster.” He went down on one knee. “See the moisture here? It’s worked down into the baseboards. This section of wood is warped and will have to be replaced, too.” He stood and walked into the hall again. She hurried to keep up. “The stairway needs to have those steps and spindles replaced. All in top-grade oak.” He kept walking until he finally reached the living room.

This was the room where Shelby had taken up residence. She’d cleaned and hung curtains, then arranged her furniture which consisted of a sofa, a chair, a portable television and a bookcase. A desk and computer were against the far wall. The only other rooms she’d used since moving in three days ago, had been the small servants’ quarters off the kitchen, which consisted of a bedroom and bath.

Rafe approached the huge stone fireplace and began to check out the carved-oak mantel. She held her breath when he stopped and eyed the framed photographs lined up on the top.

He looked at her. “Family?” he asked.

Shelby hesitated, then answered, “Yes.”

He smiled. “I didn’t think anyone had more family than I do.”

He studied the assortment of pictures, and a wave of envy washed over her Like most people, Rafe Covelli seemed to take his relatives for granted. But there are those of us who don’t have a real family to claim.

She shook away the rush of loneliness. “You have a big family, Mr. Covelli?”

He nodded. “A grandmother, a mother, a brother and sister, but also a large assortment of aunts and uncles and cousins. Family reunions are a madhouse.” He smiled as his gaze met hers. Like a magnet, his dark eyes held her captive, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. Finally he turned away and moved on to finish his appraisal.

He leaned down and examined the floor. Then wrote more notes on his clipboard. “Do any of your family live around here?”

“Uh, no,” she said. “They’re farther south.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Why didn’t you buy a house there? Then maybe your family would be able to help you out.”

“I’d rather do this on my own. Besides, I could afford this place.”

“How’d you find out about Stewart Manor?”

She hadn’t had to answer this many questions to take out a mortgage. “It was on the Internet. You can find anything and everything if you know where to search.”

Rafe stood and walked over to the corner window. “As far as I’m concerned, you can put all the computers in a pile and blow them to kingdom come.”

Shelby bit back a smile as she watched the big man move around the room. So Mr. Macho was a cyberphobe. “Sounds like you’ve had some problems with your computer.”

“None whatsoever,” he assured her. “I don’t touch the thing. I leave all the computer business to my sister. Angelina minored in computer science in college. Got one in the office and I stay clear of it.”

“Well, if you ever decide you want to learn, just call me. I’m on the computer every day. I do graphics work and design web pages for a living.”

He cocked an eyebrow as if to say, I’ll want to learn when hell freezes over. “Thanks for the offer, but I doubt I’ll ever require your services. How many rooms upstairs?”

“Five bedrooms and two baths. One of the baths is connected to the master suite. The third floor is the attic.”

“How many rooms do you want me to look at?”

She shrugged. “I’d like you to tell me if any of them need major work. There are some water rings on the ceilings in two of the bedrooms, and in one of them some of the plaster has already fallen. I want to start painting and wallpapering as soon as possible.”

“I think you better hold off on any decorating until we assess the damage. Tearing out old plaster causes quite a mess.” His dark eyes lifted to meet hers, and instantly she felt a jolt of awareness course through her body. Why did this man make her so nervous?

She managed a nod.

“I’ll go have a look.” He started out of the room and again she followed him. When they reached the staircase, he stopped. She didn’t and ran into him. He reached out and grabbed her by the arms before she lost her balance. “You better stay down here. These stairs aren’t safe. And until the repairs are done, I don’t want you using them.”

Shelby felt the sudden heat from his gentle touch and lost any desire to argue. Then he turned and continued up the stairs. She watched as he moved with easy athletic grace over the broken steps. Finally he disappeared from view, and she returned to the living room.

Shelby crossed to the mantel and studied the row of pictures. Her family. Uncle Ray and Aunt Celia, along with an assortment of cousins. They were spread all across the country, of course. That way people didn’t ask why they never came to visit. All she had to do was make up stories about them. And she was really good at make-believe—she made a living at it. Shelby drew a long breath and released it. She glanced around the room, feeling a flood of contentment.

She finally had her home. And soon it would be filled with people, and she wouldn’t be all alone anymore.

After checking the attic and the other bedrooms, Rafe wandered into the huge master suite. A mahogany four-poster bed sat against the wall. Heavy brocade draperies hung at the large windows, but were so filthy you couldn’t tell what color they’d once been. The floral wallpaper was faded and had water rings. There was also evidence of some vandalism, broken windows and beer bottles and some writing on the wallpaper. The floors were caked with years of dust

He peeked into the bathroom and saw the oversize claw-foot tub. Upon close examination, he realized it was still in good condition, along with the pedestal sink. The marine-blue marble tile could use a good cleaning and some grouting, but all were easy to repair.

Rafe’s thoughts turned to the woman he’d left downstairs. He normally didn’t stop homeowners from following him around on the job site, but he needed time away from Ms. Harris. Her wide-eyed gaze seemed to watch his every move. He couldn’t decide if it was mistrust or just plain curiosity. But it had bothered him. Damn. He hadn’t felt that awkward around a woman since he’d taken Lisa South-erland to the junior prom. And that was because he had gotten brave enough to try to cop a feel. At seventeen, getting his hands on a girl’s breasts was a major accomplishment.

Once again he recalled Shelby Harris in her T-shirt. She had an unbelievable body. Full breasts, long, shapely legs... Rafe groaned. What was the matter with him? He was acting as if he’d never been around a woman before. But it had been a while since there’d been anyone in his life. Still, he knew better than to think about getting involved with a potential client.

After giving himself a good talking-to. he returned to the bedroom. He stopped short when he found Shelby Harris in front of the bay windows. The afternoon sunlight formed a halo around her, softening her pretty face.

A quiet intimacy surrounded them as they stood in silence, neither, it seemed, wanting to break the spell with words. Rafe’s gaze shifted slightly toward the large bed, and an erotic picture of this long-legged brunette lying naked on ivory satin sheets flashed in his head.

His body tightened as his gaze darted back to her. Damnation. “Thought I told you to wait downstairs.”

She didn’t seem intimidated by his anger. “I’ve been up here before. I know which steps to avoid.”

“You still could have fallen. This house is old and has been vacant for a long time. If I’m going to work here, then you’re going to have to listen to my warnings.”

Her eyes flashed defiantly, as if she was about to argue, but then she averted her gaze. “I guess I was anxious to see how much damage you found and what your bid was going to be.”

Rafe looked at his clipboard. He knew that the house needed a lot of time-consuming work. “On the whole, the house is solidly built. I think you already knew that.”

She nodded.

“But the roof had been leaking for quite a few years. I was going to suggest that you replace it, but there are several bundles of shingles in the attic, so we might be able to do a fairly good patch job—for now. Once we stop the leaks, I’ll tear out the ceiling up here in the front bedroom. Then put up new drywall.”

“What about the other three bedrooms and this room?”

“The damage isn’t extensive. This room seems to be in the best shape, and the bathroom is fine, too.”

“So between the parlor downstairs, the stairway and the bedroom room, what do you think it’ll cost me?”

He didn’t know why, but he’d worked to cut his quote to the bare bones. He showed her the bid and watched her eyes widen.

“This is so expensive. You can’t possibly need that much material.”

“It’s not the materials. It’s the labor. I have to pay a guy to come in and tear away and dispose of the rotted wood and plaster.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Well, someone has to do it. And I don’t have the time. My brother and I have several other jobs—”

“I know,” she interrupted. “I know you’re busy. That’s the reason I’m suggesting that, instead of hiring someone to do the tearing out, let me do it. I can work along with you.”

Rafe knew it. The minute he’d pulled into the driveway, he’d had a feeling she wanted more than an estimate.

Well, he had to set her straight. “Look, you have no idea what is involved with this. It’s hard, backbreaking work,.” He eyed her slender body. “I have trouble finding high-school boys willing to do this kind of labor.”

“But this is my home,” she said. “I have a lot invested in it already. And right now I don’t have enough funds left to get this place ready to open for business.”

“Could your family help you?”

She glanced away. “I’m too old to go running to family for money,.”

He looked around “This is a big project, Ms. Harris. Maybe your parents would like to invest in making this place at least livable for their daughter.”

Her hands curled into fists. “My parents aren’t able to help out, Mr. Covelli. And for your information, this house was inspected before the auction. The gas company deemed the stove in the kitchen safe to use. The plumbing was checked out and fixed before I bought the house. So you see, this place is very livable. But if you won’t help me, then I’ll find another contractor who will.”

She pulled a business card out of her pocket. “There’s...the Norton Construction Company in Bedford,” she read. “So, thank you for your time.” She turned and headed out to the hall.

“Norton Construction? They have a reputation for doing things cheap, but you won’t get the quality this house deserves.” He went after her as she approached the stairs.

“It’s what I can afford, Mr. Covelli.”

He reached her side. “Will you please stop calling me that? You make me feel ancient. My name is Rafe.”

She stopped and swung around. “What I call you isn’t going to change the fact that I can’t afford you.”

Rafe could see the sheen of tears in her eyes, then she turned away and put her tennis-shoe-clad foot on the next step. One of the weakened steps. A scream erupted from her lips as she lost her balance and began to fall.

Rafe caught her and managed to halt her progress. He yanked her against him, and they both went down hard on one of the steps. Shelby ended up lying on top of him, his arms wrapped around her tightly. She felt incredible. Her softness against his hardness. He inhaled her fresh flowery scent. Suddenly his body caught fire and he knew he had to let her go.

But he couldn’t move.

Shelby finally pushed herself up and looked at him with those remarkable green eyes. He stifled a groan as his gaze moved to her mouth; he was unable to ignore how badly he wanted a taste.

He blinked away his wayward thoughts. “Are you all right?”

Blushing, she nodded and got off him. “I guess I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“It happens. But you can see why you need to get these stairs fixed before someone really gets hurt.”

“Yes, I do.” She sat down on the step. “And I will. Thank you for coming by with your bid.”

He got up. He started down the stairs, but knew he couldn’t leave her to Gus Norton. “Look, I can give you the names of other reliable companies, but the cost won’t be any less than my bid.” He wrote down two names on a piece of paper and handed it to her.

She took it. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”

He stood there for a few seconds. Even though this woman was tall, she had a delicate build and would have a hard time moving heavy materials, but from what he saw in the thirty minutes of knowing her, Shelby Harris was stubborn enough to try.

“I’ll have a crew here on Wednesday to start the work outside,” he said.

She nodded, but didn’t smile. And for some reason he was disappointed. After all, he was doing her a favor.

“Look, if I get a bit of time, maybe I could help you tear out—”

“I don’t need your charity, Mr. Covelli,” she said stubbornly. “I’ll get it done.”

“I don’t doubt that, Ms. Harris, but I wasn’t offering charity. Here in Haven Springs we call it being neighborly.”

Her Surprise Family

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