Chapter 1

"I could have picked you up at the airport." Colin protested as he enfolded her slender frame in a tight embrace. Easing back, his golden-brown eyes studied his stunning sister whose face had graced several well-known magazines since she was seventeen.

Her thick natural curls had been bleached golden brown and tumbled around her heart-shaped face. Large #brown eyes were warm, with a glint of mischief lurking in the depths.

One side of her cashmere sweater hangs down her left arm, revealing coffee with light cream skin. Her jeans are fashionably distressed, and she is wearing ankle-length boots.

"I wanted to spare you the trouble." She hugged him tightly, closing her eyes as she drank in his scent.

"I bet you got harassed coming through the airport terminal." Picking up her suitcases, he tugged her hand through his arm and led the way into his neat and pristine living room.

"Of course." She threw him a dazzling smile that had been made famous over the years. A tiny dimple peeked out from her left cheek as her eyes danced. "But I made sure to keep my return a well-guarded secret." Letting go of his arm, she turned to take in the furnishings and the grand piano in the corner of the room.

"It looks different from when I visited a year ago."

"I decided it was time for a change." Putting her cases in one corner of the room, he went to the cabinet. "White wine?"

"You know my poison." Gliding over to the double sofa, she sank gracefully and kicked off her boots. "How are you?"

Golden-brown eyes gave her a wry look. "I am fine. Don't need you worrying about me." He handed her the wine. "You are back for good?"

"Yes." She sipped the excellent vintage and closed her eyes in appreciation.

"And Jacques?'

"Out of my life. I don't know what I was thinking."

"You were thinking he was capable of being faithful. He is a damn fool."

"I could say the same about Ilene." Her eyes searched his handsome face for any evidence of lingering pain. But they could both hide their emotions beneath the surface. She was an expert because she had been doing so for twelve years.

"She found someone more to her liking."

"You mean someone with more money." Celeste swallowed the wine and tried to wash away the disgust.

"Yes." Leaning back against the cushions, he turned to look at her. "I saw him a few nights ago. It was a charitable function our law firm was required to attend."

She did not have to ask who he was referring to. "And?"

"He is seeing someone."

"Isn't he always?" She asked with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"The papers think this is serious. They have been going out for six months. He looked right through me, honey."

A spasm of pain touched her face, and just for a minute, she allowed the distress to envelop her. "I guess he is still angry."

"So am I." Colin's face tightened. "If I had known the sacrifice-"

"It was no sacrifice, and we were just teens. What he and I had was just an intense crush."

Her brother gave her a sizzling glance. "You don't have to give me the damn party line; I know better than that. You gave him up so I could have a career."

"And it was worth it."

"Was it?" He snapped. "You have suffered-"

"And now I am over it."

Taking a sip of his scotch, he tried to calm down. "We both know that's not true."

"I will get over it," she said, turning her head away from his probing gaze. "It does not matter."

"You still love him." Colin pointed out.

"I am sure I always will." Rising gracefully, she wandered over to the window to stare at the soaring buildings adjacent to her brother's apartment. "I asked Pauline to source an apartment, and she told me she found one a few blocks from here. It just needs to be wallpapered, and it will be ready for me to move in. A few days at the most."

"I told you staying here would not be a problem."

Turning her head, she smiled at him. "And I told you how much I need my space. I want to recharge after rushing from one country to another at the drop of a hat. I am slowing things down."

"You are retiring?"

Her tinkling laughter echoed around the room. "I am only twenty-seven. God! That sounds old," she said with a grimace. "I suppose that's the case in a career like mine.

But no, I have a contract with Romano's—a lucrative one that will make me even wealthier than I already am. I will be the face of their newest sleepwear and scents. But that does not start until May. I have the entire month of April just to laze around."

"What do you intend to do with all that free time?"

"Laze around." She grinned at him. "See some friends, go to bars, a few parties, and just chill." She turned back to look out the window. "I miss them. Returning here will be difficult, and realizing they are not around."

She was referring to their parents, who had been tragically taken away from them by a drunk driver who had cut them off at the intersection. She had been fifteen and her brother eighteen. He had deferred a year of college to take care of her.

She had been approached by a talent scout who told her that her exquisite features had been evident even at that age. At that point, her life had started to unravel. The boy she had been in love with since she was fourteen years old and her parents were gone.

She argued with Colin until he finally allowed her to accept the offer. But he had made sure that it was a reputable company. Marcus, the scout, had treated her like a daughter and looked after her.

She owed her career to him.

Feeling the tears threatening, she walked to the cabinet to pour more wine.

"You are going to come into contact with him at some point." Her brother's quiet voice turned her toward him.

"And I am prepared for it."

"Are you?"

She smiled and walked back over to take her seat. "Modeling is part acting and I am very good at it. Smile and pretend you are having the time of your life." Lifting her glass in a toast, she shrugged. "I am very good at what I do."

*****

"Are you alright, darling?" Michelle Braithwaite asked her son softly as she came into his office.

"I"m just looking through this contract." Rylan lifted his green eyes to look at her.

"Why?"

"Nothing." Gliding into the luxurious office, she closed the doors behind her. Her informants told her that Celeste was back. She had thought the girl would get married to that Frenchman and stay in Europe, but that relationship had ended, and now she was back.

And the announcement had been made. She was going to be the face of Romano's intimate attire. Rylan's assistant had also told her that the magazine with her photo on the front page had been placed on his desk.

"She is back."

"I know." His mouth tightened in distaste. "That has nothing to do with me."

"I am just making sure you are okay with it."

"It's a free country, Mother." He allowed the amusement to trickle in his tone. "She is free to come and go as she pleases."

"I hope she will stay out of your way."

This time, the amusement was genuine. "She is a slip of a girl, and what we had when we were children is long over."

"Madeline is perfect for you," Michelle said, plucking at the chic red and blue jacket she was wearing. She had been trying to rush both of them to the altar, but her son was stalling for some reason, and Michelle was afraid the reason was that woman. She had worked too hard to break them apart for her plan to disintegrate.

"I believe she is." His phone rang, and he told her, with an apologetic smile, "The call from Greece, I was expecting.""Dinner later?"

He nodded and picked up the receiver.

Michelle closed the doors behind her and walked out of the office belonging to his assistant. The corporate building that housed the offices of Braithwaite Shipping took up several blocks and was the height of luxury. Diverting from her suite of offices, she headed to the CFO's office and rapped smartly on the door before pushing it open.

"Darling, you look harassed."

Dale Montgomery's head lifted from the figures scrolling on his screen to flash her an absent smile. "I am out two staff today, both of them suffering from a nasty bout of flu, and your son wants the projected profit and loss income at noon today."

"Coffee?" She headed over to his cabinet and poured two cups, bringing them to him before sitting on an elegant sofa before his desk. They had been lovers for ten years and were comfortable with the arrangement. "I hate to interrupt you," she said.

"This is a welcome break." Making jottings on a notepad, he took up the coffee and gave his attention to the petite blonde woman with the emerald green eyes. "You are worried about something?"

Her tapered eyebrows lifted. "I am that transparent?"

"To me, you are." Leaning back in the chair, he eyed her. "Does it have something to do with a young model coming back to town?"

"I tried hard to keep them apart, and now she is back." She stared into her cup pensively.

"Did I tell you that he planned to run off and marry her? I had to do something about it. He would not listen to anything I said. His father had died two years before, leaving me with the task of running the company and taking care of Rylan. He had been accepted at Princeton and told me that he was getting married instead. I had to act."

"You did the right thing." Dale knew all this and how troubled she was at the length she had gone to keep her son from making a horrible mistake."

"I think he still loves her."

Dale's bushy eyebrows lifted. "Why do you say that?"

"His unwillingness to settle down."

"Darling, he is only twenty-nine."

"Madeline told me each time she brings up the subject of marriage, he turns cold and distant." Sighing deeply, she put the cup down on the table in front of her. "Now that girl is back, and she is single."

"You did what you had to do. You needed Rylan to take over the company, and he is doing an excellent job of it. If you had stood by and let him get married at that age, it would have been a disaster."

"I think about telling him what I did."

"That would be a mistake."

"I know." Taking a deep breath, she took another sip of coffee.

"She has made quite an impression on the modeling world, and I am sure she has moved on from Rylan. She was involved just recently."

"And now she is not."

*****

Stretching lazily to work the kinks out, Celeste reached for the cup of coffee her brother had placed on the bedside table before he left for work. Taking a much-needed sip, she sank back against the mound of pillows stacked against the mahogany headboard.

Colin had more than prepared for her arrival. The guest suite had been thoroughly cleaned, and fresh curtains and bed linens with the scent of summer breeze fabric softener assailed her nostrils. They had stayed up talking for half the night before he turned in.

Now, she was alone and was going to venture out sometime in the afternoon. She had become accustomed to the stares and people pointing at her wherever she went. Her face was on billboards, and she graced the covers of enough magazines to make her famous.

But underneath all of it, the glamor, the glitz, and the hype, she was still an ordinary girl. She preferred cuddling up to a historical novel and eating popcorn in front of the fire.

When she had revealed that to the editor of Vogue, the woman had looked at her as if she had committed a cardinal sin. She attended parties and was required to smile for the cameras so much that she wanted nothing more than to put on an old, comfortable robe and pig out in front of the small screen in her downtime.

She planned to do that for the month she was free. Pauline, her realtor, had called and asked if she wanted to look at the apartment, but she had declined.

The conversation with her brother had brought the memories crashing back, not that they had been that far in her subconscious. She had spent months crying herself to sleep and yearning for him.

He had been her first, and she had been his. The tender lovemaking had lasted until they had been together twice, and after that, it had taken on an intensity that scorched them. It had been impossible for them to stay away from each other.

Of course, he was out of her league, and at first, they had both been afraid that his mother would disapprove. Celeste had been so terrified that she had tried to talk him out of formally introducing the formidable-looking woman whose generosity to the prestigious high school was well-known.

But he had insisted, "I don't care as long as I am with you."

Michelle Braithwaite had pretended to be delighted with the relationship, and they had fallen into a lull of satisfaction and complacency. But the woman had been watching them and knew things were heating up between them.

The sex had raged so much out of control that they had stopped using protection.

"I want you to have my baby." He had told her feverishly. One night, she was inside his room, and they were having sex. "I will die if I am not with you, Celeste. If you leave me, I would not want to live." And she had felt the same way.

Swallowing the rest of the coffee, she forced the recollections from her memory and swung her legs off the bed. She had buried herself in work, taking on more assignments. Very soon, she had become a huge deal.

When the offer came for her to become the modeling agency's ambassador, a job that would take her across Europe, she jumped at the chance to get away.

Rylan had refused to believe what she said in the damning and cruel letter, and she had had to put on the pressure. She had told him some very nasty things that had finally gotten through to him and broken her to pieces.

For years, she had stayed away from the States, and nothing her brother had said could convince her to return. She needed space from him. The first time she saw him with another woman in a magazine attending a function, she had been in Paris and had cried herself to sleep.

It had taken her years to go out with the numerous men who clamored for her attention. She had settled for Jacques because he appeared to be gentle and kind and did not make a lot of demands on her.

But that had been a mistake. He was handsome, but very weak, needy, and clearly insecure. He had lifted his hand to hit her, and that had made it easier for her to get rid of him.

She had stayed clean during her time away. While her fellow models were doing drugs and allowing the success to go to their heads, she had kept her promise to her brother and stayed away from the excessive drinking and the illegal drugs that had been passed around freely at parties.

She had been determined not to sleep around. She had always been very wilful, and her penchant for speaking her mind and staying strong had kept her steady.

She had finally confessed to her brother what really happened with Rylan, and he had been so furious that he had threatened to go to him with the truth. She had begged him not to, and he had reluctantly agreed.

"The relationship was too intense anyway, and we did not belong together."

Putting the cup away, she swung long, slender legs off the bed and reached for the silk robe she had placed at the foot of the bed. That was her past, and she would do her best to move on.

One thing she had vowed to herself was that she would never again love someone with that naked and raw intensity she felt for Rylan Braithwaite. It had almost destroyed them. Whenever they were together, it had been so combustible that it had always left them shaken and unable to recover.

That kind of Romeo and Juliet mentality was ridiculous and dangerous. Heading for the bathroom, she shook off the memories and prepared for her day.

*****

Rylan climbed out of bed and headed straight for his clothes. He would not normally be here in the middle of the week, at least not when he had some documents to go over and right after a difficult meeting with board members.

But he was unsettled, and even though he did not acknowledge it, he knew why.

"You could stay for dinner," the soft, cultured voice said behind him as he dragged on his dark blue dress pants.

"I promised Mother that I would dine with her," he said over his left shoulder as he pulled his zipper up.

"I am sure she will understand."

"I have some things to discuss with her anyway." Tugging his shirt on, he buttoned it and reached for his jacket before sitting on the loveseat to put his shoes on. He had been rough with her, his movements jerky and impatient. He had labored to give her pleasure and only felt a fraction of it himself.

His mood was dark, and he did not want to take it out on her when it wasn't her fault. "I just decided to stop by." He rose abruptly, picked up his tie, and looped it around his neck.

"I am happy you did." She told him.

Walking over to the bed, he tugged at a lock of thick, dark brown hair. "I have to go," he said.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" She asked plaintively.

"I am afraid not."

"I must settle for the charity ball over the weekend."

"I am afraid so." Bending, he kissed her forehead, dancing away when she would have curved a hand around his neck. He was not in the mood, and his lack of mood was fueling his anger.

The damned magazine on his desk had done it. She was back, and he had managed to tear her from his heart and mind for almost six years. He had thought he was finally over her, and he liked to believe he was, but the sight of her on the cover of ‘Lifestyle' made him so angry that he could barely stand it.

She had spoiled his entire day and was now spoiling his time with the woman he had decided to settle with. Damn her to hell! He thought savagely. Forcing a smile, he stepped back and turned to take his key fob from her antique table.

"I will see you on Saturday."

"Rylan?" Her voice stopped him as he reached the doorway, his hand on the gold knob.

"Yes?"

"Something is bothering you, and I wish you would trust me enough to tell me what it is."His hand clenched on the doorknob as he fought the wave of despair that overtook him suddenly. Forcing the feeling away, he turned halfway around to offer her a teasing smile.

"It's just work. Nothing more than that." With that lie, he left, closing the door behind him.