By Design

By Liana Thompson

Fleeing from an apparent stalker, Corinne runs straight into his world. Widower, Ian Stanton struggles as a single father. His desire for a relationship brings him to his knees. Convinced his prayers are answered, he reveals his intentions to Corinne Lansing who neither shares his faith, nor the desire to share his life. Forced to take a needed vacation, she discovers love in a small child. Ivy sparks the fire
in Corinne’s heart revealing the absence of a vital component. Will this stubborn young woman
allow herself to become vulnerable to God?
Will she ever trust Ian?

Watch for the sequel, By Fire, Corinne and Ian’s story continues . . . through the storm, through
the jungles . . .

Raven Delivery Press, publisher of faith journeys.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Liana Thompson
• Release date: Jan 10, 2011
• ISBN: 9781452437033

Liana Thompson

From the Author: Liana Thompson is a home schooling, mother of four children, married nineteen years. In the course of home schooling for over fourteen years, she began writing to teach her two sons some of the basic tenets of good fiction. Over time God turned her writing into a way to communicate His redemptive power and long-suffering in the lives of frail human beings. This finds expression in her many varied outlets of writing; from poetry to plays to sermons and in-depth Bible studies. From the Publisher: We write faith journeys—words that document walking beside normal people, flawed people, lost people, as well as found people who have all let the snare of sin put the brakes on their growth as the people God designed them to be.

Book preview

By Design

Liana Thompson

SMASHWORDS EDITION

I read your By Design yesterday on my long plane flight home, and so enjoyed it! I look forward to the sequel. You did such a good job of creating healthy and realistic tension between Ian and Corinne in their developing relationship— sweet addition of Ivy too.

-Meril Stanton

I LOVE YOUR BOOK!!!

-Stacey Whitmire

I have already finished your book. I could not put it down! What a lovely story so filled with the gospel.

-Kim Stanton

I wish I had read this book in my 20’s when I was asking all the wrong people about God.

-Kip Gardner

PUBLISHED by RAVEN DELIVERY PRESS:

on Smashwords

BY DESIGN

Copyright © 2007 by Liana Thompson

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

Dedicated

To my husband who made me understand that real love is pure and lovely. To my children who have encouraged me and always believe the best of me.

Acknowledgments

Anyone whoever succeeds at anything needs people around who encourage, love and challenge them. I have not been an exception. For all of you who have helped to lead and prod me, I thank you. I would not have even considered the publication of this work without my husband, Dave, who told me it was worthy of such an honor.

My two older children, Austin and Adrian, were the motivation for the conception of this book because I thought it would be instrumental in teaching them how to write and more importantly how to edit. Thank you for molding and making me a mother who understands nurturing.

My friends, with whom God has abundantly blessed me, I thank you. Marty, thanks so much for challenging me to go beyond mundane, trite clauses. Carren, thank you for editing my book. Renee thanks for praying for me. To my sister, Noemi, who has always been a friend, thanks.

Words cannot describe the love I have for the aforementioned. May the Lord continue to bless us and give us favor as we travel this life together.

Prologue

I brought you through this river. I have purchased you with a high price. Your life is not your own. You have given your life for a higher life— a greater gift. Love not the things of this world— as you have found, they cannot satisfy. What can a man give for his soul? All is vanity without me.

I have a gift for you that is part of my plan to prosper you and make you a witness of me. One who is strong-willed but will conform to my image and walk in the path I have chosen, a mother for your child and a worthy companion for a faithful servant. Continue to follow my paths; suddenly the day will come. Forget me neither in your prosperity nor in joy or sorrow. Follow faithfully after me, as you would search out a great treasure. I promise you peace— wholeness for your lifetime. Soon shall this word be performed in your hearing!

Moaning Ian rolled on his side. His own voice calling out had awakened him. Perspiration clung to his skin. His dreams so vivid lately... what did they mean? He knew what he wanted them to mean. He loved his daughter, but he wanted someone to share his life, his dreams...

Chapter One

Corinne Lansing maneuvered her jeep into the parking space with the ease of an experienced driver. She hoped this vacation would help to soothe her frazzled nerves. If only she hadn’t gone to that dinner party, she berated herself for the hundredth time. Although she had started out early this morning, she had not avoided the heat of this July afternoon. Flushed and wind-tossed, she smoothed her hair as she entered the lobby of the Paradise Cove Resort. A virtual Polynesian village with its leafy overhangs and bamboo pillars would be her home for the next two weeks.

The 180-acre island offered recreational possibilities which seemed limitless: several tennis courts, a challenging eighteen-hole, 72-par golf course and the large marina brought seafarers from everywhere imaginable through the Intracoastal Waterway. Swimming areas not only included private beaches, but each area of the island had its own swimming pool. Recreational boaters shared the waters with the sports fishermen.

Corinne was greeted by the receptionist, May I help you?

Yes, I have a reservation, Corinne Lansing.

Yes, ma’am, I have it right here. I see you have chosen to stay at our seaside bungalows. You’re in the Coconut Bay area in bungalow number eleven. Are you familiar with the Island? The receptionist asked while handing her the room key.

With a negative shake of Corinne’s head, the young woman behind the desk reached under the counter and produced a map. She explained to Corinne the fastest way to arrive at her bungalow.

Have Mr. and Mrs. Richards arrived yet?

Yes, ma’am, they left a message for you to come to the marina. They docked at slip fifty-five.

Corinne expressed her gratitude and left the lobby in search of her bungalow. She entered through the gate and drove her car down the palm-lined drive. The small huts and lovely rolling hills of The Cove reminded her of scenes of romantic interludes and private moments shared by lovers. Nearing the marina, she caught a glimpse of yachts and sailboats lined up in picture-perfect order. She pulled into the parking lot of her bungalow. The ocean glistened as the sun smiled atop the glassy water. Boaters, fisherman and thrill-seekers shared the sea’s delights. Corinne would welcome a boating excursion while at The Cove. With great anticipation, she gathered her belongings from the jeep.

Maggie had not overstated the loveliness of this man-made paradise although the romantic setting made Corinne doubt the wisdom of her decision to join her friends. Would she feel like a third wheel? They had invited her, insisting she stay with them on their cruiser. She accepted their proposal, but she remained adamant about having land-based rooms. Still, feelings she might be imposing persisted. She shook them off knowing those feelings would prevent her from enjoying herself. Maggie had complained that she had become a work-a-holic, rarely taking vacations.

Pensive, she reached the door of her bungalow, not noticing the man closely following behind her. She swiped the key through the door slot and heard, Surprise, surprise, if it isn’t Corinne Lansing. The familiar, husky voice made her jump. She spun around and leaned against the door clutching the key to her chest.

Mr. Stanton! she exclaimed, eyes wide with apprehension. Ironically, she had come here to escape him. She tried to keep the frustration from her voice. I didn’t expect to see you here. If I didn’t know better, I would think that you were following me.

Ignoring the accusation, he smiled, I thought I recognized your car. I’m at the marina in one of the first slips. He waved a careless hand over his shoulder in the direction of his yacht. His voice trailed off as if he wanted to say more.

A dizzying wave of emotion penetrated her senses. She felt weak and vulnerable, her heart pounding in her chest. Whenever she saw him, it was the same: nervous anticipation mingled with foreboding gripped her, paralyzing her mind. He seemed to lurk around every corner. Couldn’t he understand how frightening she found him? She hardly knew him, yet he treated her with great familiarity. She stood frozen in time, her hand rigidly holding the doorknob. He regarded her thoughtfully. She stared into his steel blue eyes, which seemed to study her every feature as if he did not want to forget her.

He ran a hand through his unruly black hair. The gesture forced her to acknowledge the strikingly handsome figure he posed. Yet something within her strongly reacted against him as if he challenged her peace of mind. She couldn’t fathom how she knew, but somehow he was a threat to her very existence. What type of man would let a woman know after one brief encounter that he intended to marry her? Why her? He could have any woman for miles around. Thanks, she thought— my very own fatal attraction.

He broke into her thoughts. I’ve asked you to call me Ian.

"Yes, well Ian I— I just arrived, and would like to get settled in. I… She halted realizing with annoyance that she owed him no explanations. He smiled, appearing to enjoy her discomfort. He wasn’t going to make it easy for her to walk away. She looked up at him trying to avoid direct eye contact, his six-foot frame looming above her. She was used to being in control. How dare he try to intimidate her? She felt childish, irrational and naive, stumbling over her words as if she were a foolish schoolgirl bedazzled by the latest movie star. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to change and rest up after my long drive."

Certainly. His charming smile never left his face. How about having dinner with me tonight?

I came with some friends, and I’m supposed to join them for dinner. Her irritation should have been evident. She turned to enter the bungalow, but he restrained her. She looked contemptuously at the hand that held her. He leaned closer, pinning her with his eyes.

"Invite them. I’ll have a private room reserved at the White Pelican. Around seven this evening? Call me and let me know what you intend. He took a card from his wallet, Call my cell number."

I intend to say NO! She thought reaching for the business card. Heat rushed to her face, she heard her polite response, I’ll talk to Maggie and Stuart.

I’m in slip 3. It’s the Hatteras you can’t miss it.

She slammed the door, angry at his presumption and her powerlessness. Her arm still tingled from the sensation of his touch. I don’t intend to marry you, date you, live with you or whatever you want, Mr. Ian Stanton! Her mind nearly exploded with the thought. I’m here, but I will not be persuaded to have any type of intimate relationship with you. She dropped on the bed almost in tears, afraid that she would never be done with Ian Stanton. She trembled from fear and despised her cowardice.

Unfortunately, he remained a permanent fixture at the Franklin Building where both their businesses were housed. Of all the luck! How could she have driven two hundred miles to end up bumping into him again? It just can’t be a coincidence. Wait until Maggie hears this, she thought lifting the receiver.

Hello, came her friend’s familiar and welcome voice.

He’s here, Maggie, her quivering voice stated without preamble.

Who?

Mr. Ian Stanton, Corinne spit out the words.

Maggie smiled to herself, You’re kidding.

I wish I were. He met me outside my bungalow. Says he rented some slip at the marina. Do you have any idea what a Hatteras is?

Was that his? It’s a yacht, and it’s beautiful.

Go figure. I think he’s following me. He invited me to have dinner with him.

What’d you say?

I told him I had friends to consider, but then he invited you too.

Let’s go, Corinne, Maggie didn’t hide her excitement.

What do you mean, ‘let’s go’? Shocked, Corinne stared at the phone.

I think this is very exciting, love at first sight.

"Maggie you’re a hopeless romantic. No one seems to realize that I’m not in love! Ian Stanton’s not my type either. I like sane men." Corinne said sarcastically.

Corinne, you don’t like men period. Weren’t you the least attracted to the man? After all, you talked with him the whole evening. Have you ever thought that you might be allowing your imagination to run away with you?

Maggie, no sane man would tell a woman on their first meeting that he was going to marry her.

Where have you been? Men tell women that they want to sleep with them on the first date. No one thinks that, that’s a fatal attraction. She continued performing a melodrama, her voice low and husky, "Picture the scene: a lonely widower meets a beautiful woman and tells her he wants to marry her. That’s an honorable proposition coming from such a beautiful widower too."

Maggie, this is no joke! I’m afraid for my life. Men have killed women that they’re infatuated with and don’t —

Oh, Corinne, you watch way too much T.V.! Maggie interrupted, ignoring Corinne’s distress. Let’s go. You’ll be with us. We’ll protect you. I’m intrigued— that’s all.

I’m going to regret this, but I’ll let him know, Corinne capitulated. Remember I came to this island for R and R, not a honeymoon! I think your reasoning is a little skewed right now.

We’ll see you about five. Hanging up the phone, Maggie’s eyes twinkled with triumph. She scoffed at the absurdity of Corinne’s behavior. Corinne needs this. She’s been married to her job too long. She feels threatened because she might have to relinquish some of her precious independence. Welcome to the real world, Corinne Lansing. Welcome to the real world. Maggie thought with satisfaction.

Maggie refused to believe the picture Corinne painted of Ian Stanton, an obsessed madman, who would ravage her at his first opportunity. But then she’d never known Corinne to behave with such intense paranoia. She hired a private investigator to uncover any dirt about Ian. Maggie shook her head as she remembered. Corinne even tried to find out if there had been any suspicion related to his wife’s death. Ian Stanton proved a man of upstanding character and moral integrity. This information only increased Corinne’s reservations, believing with certainty that no one could live such an impeccable life. He had covered his tracks too well and had just not been caught yet. She persisted with her investigations despite Maggie’s insistence to the contrary.

Corinne paced for five minutes before she worked up the nerve to call Ian.

Hello, the deep male voice sounded on the other end.

Hi, this is Corinne Lansing.

Well, hello.

We’d be happy to join you for dinner at seven, Mr. Stanton. Corinne swallowed hard.

I’ll pick you up at six at your place. Bye.

Uh… bye.

****

Corinne despised controlling men. Ian painted that picture well. A power broker used to getting his way. Having the little woman under his thumb, she mocked. Very much like her father, William Lansing— domineering, overbearing. Augh! How her mother put up with the man for thirty-five years, she would never know. Her mother didn’t seem to mind the loss of her own identity. It made Corinne want to puke. Mrs. William Lansing, her mother, took so much pride in that title, and all she had to do was say I do! Yuck! Never! I don’t want to be my mother, she yelled. She stepped into the shower, standing under the hard spray as if to rid herself of contamination. Unbidden tears fell down her cheeks; she swiped at them with a vengeance. I left all this behind, Ian Stanton, and your presence in my life is dredging this garbage back up! I am a wreck. Maybe Maggie’s right.

Maggie had married her high school sweetheart, Stuart Richards. No one else appealed to her. Together they had withstood many storms in their relationship, which had strengthened their bond. Two kids later, Maggie and Stuart seemed as much in love as ever, but she continued to play the matchmaker, unknowingly harassing Corinne with her constant insistence that she marry and settle down. Maggie felt that Corinne was not complete without a man in her life.

Stuart and Maggie decided to walk to Corinne’s bungalow as the summer heat began to wane. It would be a while yet before dusk. The sea breeze felt cool against Maggie’s warm skin. She tanned easily and already reaped the benefits of a day out under the sun. Corinne opened the door to allow the Richards to join her. The couple sauntered into the room. Maggie stretched out lazily on the sectional sofa, which faced the bay, while Stuart’s gaze appraised the living quarters. He sat next to his wife and explained with exuberance his plans for their vacation. His lighthearted mood indicated that Maggie had not informed him of Ian’s presence.

So? he asked noticing Corinne’s lack of enthusiasm. Do our plans sound like fun?

Sure. But when you go scuba diving, I’ll just stay aboard the cruiser. She referred to Stuart and Maggie’s motor yacht. If that’s all right with you?

That’s fine.

An awkward silence settled in the room. Stuart looked from Corinne to his wife, puzzled. Is something the matter? You’re both uptight. You two hiding something? You seem nervous. He pointed toward Corinne. And Maggie, you’re on edge. What’s up?

A crimson stain spread across Corinne’s face. She stood to her feet in frustration and shot Maggie an infuriated glance. She couldn’t believe that Maggie hadn’t told him. But that was Maggie; she loved intrigue. Corinne detailed for Stuart her most recent encounter with Ian Stanton. She grimaced, the explanation bitter to the taste. Normally, he would have found the irony of the situation amusing, but these past few months had transformed his wife’s dearest friend into the most short-tempered shrew he had ever met and his concern for Corinne would not allow him to make light of her predicament. For this reason he and Maggie had suggested this vacation to improve her disposition.

Was there anything to fear about Ian? He knew the man, admired him. Ian seemed levelheaded enough although he tended to disconcert Corinne. Apparently, Ian had offended Corinne in some way. But weren’t we all capable of blunders at one time or another? For Corinne the man had committed an unpardonable sin. No amount of penance could win her good graces once lost. He considered the dramatic change in Corinne’s temperament. As a rule, she lived hidden away in her own impervious little bubble. Lately, her poise crumbled under the constant barrage of erratic emotions. Her attitude towards most men was marked by bored indifference. Barbed comments discouraged their advances. From the beginning, Ian received uncommon treatment. At first she welcomed his attention and companionship until one fateful remark deposed him of her favor. What game could Ian be playing? No doubt he found out Corinne would be here this week. After all, he did have access to that kind of information. The knock at the door brought Stuart out of his reverie, and he proceeded to open it.

Arms laden with gifts, Ian entered. Corinne received a bouquet of flowers with an ungrateful air. But Maggie gurgled with delight as he handed her a box of Marquanis chocolates. Unkind thoughts whirled through her mind producing a thousand insults, but Corinne stayed silent.

Not wanting to encourage his attentions, she chose to wear a sleeveless, navy blue dress that extended down to her ankles. Her choice mocked her. The simple style enhanced her natural beauty, making her all the more appealing to her unwelcome guest. Her wheat-colored hair fell loose down her back, only a headband held it back.

Stuart greeted Ian with a warm handshake. Although Maggie and Corinne met Ian at the so-called infamous dinner party, Stuart knew him on