Free Forgotten Father by Carol Rose Page A

year and a half ago, heat
shimmered between them. An explosive, instantaneous passion that
turned suddenly to corrosive disgust on his part when he’d
discovered her trashy plan to manipulate his grandfather.
    There was nothing the least bit nonchalant about
their interaction. Despite her current pretense, perfunctory
pleasantness now didn’t fit between them.
    Unless, of course, she’d been pretending her tearful
reaction when he’d confronted her beside the lake. Mitchell felt
anger rise in him at the thought. The deceitful bitch. Had she
known even then that Donovan had left half The Cedars to her?
    Dragging his thoughts back to the meeting, Mitchell
said carefully. “Ms. Carlyle is now part owner of The Cedars. She
may be sitting in on meetings when she’s in town.”
    Delanie smiled at the others around the table who
were nodding and smiling back. “I’m hoping to be here often. I love
The Cedars almost as much as Donovan did and I want to be part of
everything that happens here.”
    Mitchell’s faint hope of maneuvering her into the
role of silent partner whimpered and died. Watching her exchange an
animated greeting with Chad Walker from the advertising department,
he grimly wondered if she ever subsided into the background.
    “Is that a new hairstyle?” Chad asked Delanie,
leaning forward in his chair, a fatuous smile on his face.
    “Let’s start with status reports,” Mitchell said
abruptly, interrupting Walker’s flirtatious comment. To his own
disgust, he knew the answer to the younger man’s question. After a
year and a half, he remembered Delanie Carlyle in enough detail to
know that her hair was shorter than it had been, now just swinging
just below her ear.
    Damn the woman for being so memorable.
    “Ben?” Mitchell said, prompting the older man. “Why
don’t you give us the overview of how The Cedars is doing before we
consider the specific departments.”
    “Of course.” Ben Norton shuffled through the papers
in front of him on the table.
    As the resort manager reported on occupancy and
reservations, Mitchell forced himself to listen. Just beyond the
manager, he could see Delanie, her smooth oval face attentive.
    Why did she have to be so deceptively warm, so full
of life? That’s what made her dangerous. The sense of intimacy with
which she listened, no matter who was talking. She acted as if
every individual were her closest friend, each one special to
her.
    She made a man want to believe she lit up like that
just for him.
    He’d been half seduced into that belief himself,
Mitchell reflected with a faint bitterness. She’d looked at him
with her green eyes and her luscious smiling lips and he’d almost
thought himself to be the center of her world.
    What a lie.
    What an idiot he’d been.
    “… we have some projects that need
taking care of during the off-season, of course,” Ben finished,
“but nothing very big. I’d like to get the pool repainted and
replace the stained carpet in the blue dining room. Minor things,
really.”
    “Sounds good,” Mitchell said, turning to the next
person. “What about things in the kitchen, James?”
    The head chef shook his head, his perpetually
worried mien not changing. “Well, I suppose we’re doing as well as
can be expected. I’ve had another assistant quit on me, so I’m
having to hire again. It’s difficult to get good help out here in
the wilds.”
    “James,” Delanie leaned forward stretching a hand
out to his, “the banana nut pancakes on the buffet this morning
were fabulous. Even more than usual. They made me late to this
meeting! I’ve never tasted anything so good!”
    The chef’s expression relaxed into a smile. “Thank
you, Delanie. I’m glad you enjoyed them. I’ve been tweaking the
recipe a little.”
    “Well, it shows,” she said with every appearance of
delight. “I had to make myself stop eating when I was full.”
    “You should eat more,” James said with gruff
affection. “You’re too thin.”
    “I