Coming Home
Authors: Shirlee Busbee
| Coming Home |
| Ballinger Family [2] |
| Shirlee Busbee |
| Grand Central Publishing (2003) |
World-famous model Roxy Ballinger returns to her hometown longing for peace and quiet. But when she crosses paths with Deputy Sheriff Jeb Delaney, he's the one man she doesn't want to see--or desire. Original.
Shirlee Busbee is the proud author of 11 novels, including seven New York Times bestsellers. Published since 1977 and with over nine million copies of her books in print, she is the recipient of numerous awards for excellence in writing, including the Romantic Times Reviewers' Choice Award and Affaire de Coeur's Silver and Bronze Pen Awards. Shirlee lives in California with Howard, her husband of 34 years, two standard schnauzers, and the Standardbred horses the couple raise for pleasure.
WARNER BOOKS EDITION
Copyright 2003 by Shirlee Busbee
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
Cover design by Diane Luger
Cover illustration by Ben Perini
Book design by Giorgetta Bell McRee
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First eBook Edition: September 2003
ISBN: 978-0-446-55051-2
Contents
SHE WANTED TO FIGHT WITH HIM, AND SHE FOUGHT TO RESIST THAT GRIN OF HIS...
“I’ve already admitted that there’s something between us,” she finally replied. “What more do you want?”
“Loaded question, princess”
“You know what I mean.”
To her absolute terror, he scooted to her end of the couch. Too close, she thought hysterically. He’s too close. Don’t touch me. Oh, please don’t touch me.
But he did. And it was like flame to gasoline. The instant his hands reached out for her, Roxanne swore she heard an explosive whoosh. And that was her last coherent thought for a long, long time.
“I’ve always loved her novels...intricately woven, deeply romantic, and spellbinding.”
—Rosemary Rogers
“Busbee delivers what you read a romance for.”
West Coast Review of Books
“Sweet and fiery.”
—
Heartstrings on Return to Oak Valley
“An exciting romantic suspense tale.”
—
Midwest Book Review on Return to Oakl Valley
Lovers Forever
A Heart for the Taking
Love Be Mine
For Love Alone
At Long Last
Swear by the Moon
Return to Oak Valley
To the Butte Creek Canyon “Fans” (and not just because they're family either!)
RACHEL WESTLUND, FERNE ASKLM, and CAROLYN JONES
and
To HOWARD, who still makes my world go round and after forty years of marriage still surprises me with flowers for absolutely no reason at all other than he thought of it.
S
tanding on her small deck at the rear of the house and staring out at the hot, dry landscape below her, Roxanne Ballinger decided that she hated September in Oak Valley. And August and probably July, too. The valley was seared by the heat, the pastures were eaten down, and the hay fields shorn of their crops lay fallow and burnt amber and yellow by the sun, except, she reminded herself, those places in the valley where the water table was high and the land stayed green all year. She made a face. Too bad her newly acquired house didn't overlook that area—it'd be nice to stare out at green fields this time of year. Then she shrugged. But if she overlooked those fields, she wouldn't have such a majestic view of Mt. Sebastian in the distance and all the other smaller mountains and hills that tumbled down to the valley floor on its eastern side.
This was not, she admitted, the valley's most attractive time of the year…at least she didn't think so. And she wondered, not for the first time, what the hell she was doing here. And with a house of her own. She glanced back at the small A-frame building and amended her thought: a cabin of her own. She should be in New York. Tucked comfortably away in her elegant air-conditioned Park Avenue penthouse apartment. Looking forward to all the fabulous entertainment the city had to offer, anticipating the pulsating excitement she'd find on the crowded streets, ready to be seduced by the glamour and vitality of the city. Everything she could humanly want would be at her fingertips. And if she didn't want to venture out, a telephone call would bring all that the city had to offer right to her doorstep: clothes, food, jewelry, handsome men…
Thinking of the last handsome man who had shared her life, she grimaced. Todd Spurting was an executive editor at one of the major New York publishing houses and their affair had lasted for a grand total of almost five weeks. They'd met this past June at one of the glittering pub parties being held for the launch of some celebrity biography and it had been, she admitted, lust at first sight. As one of the top models in the business, her face had often adorned the covers of such magazines as
Cosmo, Vogue,
and the like, and justly famous for her generous display of scantily clad limbs in the Victoria's Secret catalog, she was often seen at these sorts of parties. The life of a celebrity, she had discovered, was as much about seeing as being seen and since she was considered one of the “beautiful people” she was invited everywhere. She had nearly refused to attend the party. She'd been unsettled and restless, having just returned from Oak Valley and her brother Sloan's wedding. She almost stayed home that night—the idea of being just another body in another scintillating crowd didn't appeal to her—a feeling she had been experiencing more and more over the past couple of years. But in the end she decided that a night of rubbing shoulders with the famous and want-to-befamous might be more enjoyable than staring at the walls of her apartment.
She had not gone to the party looking for romance. She snorted. Good God, no! In fact, she had been in a surly mood and rather off men in general. Not that she didn't like men—she did. It was just that lately she'd begun to think that men were really more trouble than they were worth. Maybe, she thought with a sigh, she'd just reached that point in life where she wanted to concentrate on what she wanted, without having to consider what someone else might like—or not. Making the decision to move back to Oak Valley had been a big one and quite frankly, she didn't want the distraction of a man in her life. Then she'd met Todd Spurling…Todd who was every woman's dream: urbane, considerate, polite, and utterly smitten with her. Todd had also been tall, handsome, blond, broad-shouldered, and had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen and the moment their eyes had met…Her lip curled. The moment their eyes met she started thinking with a another part of her anatomy than her brain. Apparently Todd had, too, because in less than a month after meeting, they'd been living together in her apartment. And less than a week after that, she'd tossed him out on his gorgeous buns—his gorgeous
married
buns, disgusted as much with herself as with him.
Roxanne shook her head, her glorious blue-black mane of hair glistening like a raven's wing in the hot sunlight. You'd think at my age, I'd know better, she thought wryly. You'd think that after nearly twenty years of living in the fast lane that I'd learn not to be so impulsive, that at the wise old age of thirty-eight, I'd not be so willing to fling caution to the winds and just leap into the nearest brawny pair of arms. Finding out that Todd had been married, something he had conveniently forgotten to mention when they had been falling into bed together, had been a blow to her pride and her esteem. She had been horrified. For all of her wild reputation, and despite gossip and innuendo to the contrary, married men had been completely off her list. And while gossip and rumor had her sleeping with a new lover every week, the truth of the matter was that there hadn't been that many. She thought about it. Less than a handful. Maybe. She'd always been more cautious about sex than some of her contemporaries. Being raised in Oak Valley did that to a person. Even among the wealthy and powerful Ballinger clan, values considered these days to be old-fashioned had been the rule and though she had shaken the dust of the valley from her feet at nineteen, the mores of the valley had been a little harder to put behind her. Besides, with all the diseases out there, she'd never jumped into bed with just anyone. So why had she acted differently with Todd?
She bit her lip. She wasn't promiscuous. She'd never been promiscuous, not even in her rambunctious twenties when she'd been so greedy and eager to experience life and all it had to offer—so eager to gain polish and sophistication, determined to show the world that she wasn't just a beautiful bumpkin from some hokey place in the sticks. Sure, she'd made some mistakes. She wouldn't deny that. She'd been young, confident, OK, maybe arrogant, certainly convinced that the world was hers for the taking. She'd been like a kid given free rein in a candy store and face it, New York was
some
kind of candy store for a young woman raised in a place without a stoplight, let alone neon lights and nary a Burger King or mall in sight. She could justify some of those early mistakes, but the affair with Todd Spurling shook her. She'd simply taken one look into those mesmerizing blue eyes of his and…She snorted. And acted like a silly teenager in love for the first time. But it hadn't been love—she'd retained enough sense to realize that fact. It had been…Oh, what the hell—it had been stupid and reckless and totally unlike her. Maybe she'd still been all dreamy-eyed from watching Sloan and Shelly exchange their wedding vows and for one wild moment, when she'd looked up into Todd's face, she'd thought to find the same love shared by her brother and his bride. She shook her head. Which was really stupid and pathetic. And-impulsive—something she'd always been. She took a deep breath. She was going to try very hard
not
to be impulsive anymore—especially when it came to men. She didn't need a man in her life, especially not right now when she was embarking on a whole new adventure. She smiled. An impulsive one at that.
Her gaze fell to the valley floor. So here she was. Back in Oak Valley. A place she couldn't get away from fast enough nearly twenty years ago, but now… It was odd, she thought, how after all those years of being happily swept along by the glamour and excitement found in all those famous cities across the world, London, Paris, Madrid, and Athens, she found herself drawn more and more to the tranquility and predictability of Oak Valley. Where once she'd forced herself to return home for short visits every other year or so, the past couple of years, those visits had been increasing in both frequency and duration, the longing for the valley reaching out across the distances and tugging at hidden places in her heart. She had discovered amusements that had once held her enthralled were now boring and mundane. She smiled crookedly. Words she had once used to describe Oak Valley. Funny how life turned around on you. Now it was everywhere
else
that was boring and mundane and Oak Valley that held an irresistible appeal.