As a young girl Melynda Oakes spent one magical summer in Intermezzo Cottage. Now, blindsided by divorce, the retired bank exec returns determined to jumpstart her shattered life.
Retired police lieutenant Mackane Maguire weathered the loss of a wife, raised two kids and managed a distinguished career. He craves an undemanding, uncomplicated vacation.
Then due to a botched reservation, Lyn and Kane claim the same rental. He's furious. She's mule stubborn. Both refuse to give up, and the only alternative is to share the quaint, lakeside cottage.
The arrangement evolves into an enticing, no strings compromise, paving the way for heated nights. Lyn dares to hope she may once again trust a man, and Kane finds himself entangled in the sexy lady's charm.
But as things heat up, an innocent secret linked to Intermezzo turns deadly and threatens their happiness, their future together...and their lives.
Lyn straightened and narrowed her eyes as a beat up blue truck pulled into the driveway. "Hmmm, someone just parked behind my car."
"Ah ha, maybe it's fate."
"Oh, stop. It is a man though. The ditsy secretary told me a handy man would be by to fix a leaky faucet, or something. This must be him."
The truck's door opened, and the guy emerging caught Lyn's full attention.
"Lyn? What's going on? You faded on me."
"I have to go, Deb. I'll call you later, but keep your hopes up," she added. "This is one fine looking handy man."
"Ah ha. Fate," Deb declared, and asked, "What are you wearing?"
Lyn choked back a laugh. "You're hopeless. I'll call you later."
"Damn it, you'd better. Do you have on something sexy?"
Shaking her head, Lyn disconnected and tucked the phone into her pocket. She glanced down. A denim skirt and wrinkled tee shirt. Would Deb consider denim sexy?
The man paused, hands on hips, taking in the cottage. He didn't appear to notice her, so she took a moment to check him out.
Faded jeans hugged long legs. Blue shirt, kinda worn looking, but clean and pressed and draped on a solid body. He wore sunglasses, the sexy, reflective kind, and stared at the cottage as he raked one hand through a mop of dark hair.
Her gaze dropped from the sexy glasses to a very sexy mouth. She pressed her hand to her chest. With that moustache, this guy could be Tom Selleck's twin.
"Hmmm, if this is the handy man, maybe I'll find a lot that needs fixing," she muttered, and approached the door as the mystery man headed toward it.
She unlatched the screen door and opened it. The man stopped and removed his sunglasses. His intense look skimmed over her, and heat inched up her neck.
Damn, Selleck's dimples, too.
"Hi. I guess you're still cleaning up. If I can just leave my things, I'll go grab lunch somewhere until you're finished."
"What?" Lyn's Selleck buzz faltered. "I beg your pardon? You misunderstand. Aren't you the handy man?"
He scooped a hand through his hair again and looked her over, head to toe and back, this time slower. "No, ma'am. I think you misunderstand. I'm sure as hell not the handy man." He tugged one side of his moustache. "I take it you're not the cleaning lady, either."
"No, I'm not. I've rented this cottage for the month."
One dark brow quirked. "Well, lady. So have I."