Return to Audubon Springs

By RoseAnn DeFranco

When Emma Grant returns to her family's Audubon Springs beach house to fulfill the stipulations of her father's will, she has every intention of forcing her former lover out of the house for good. She's never fit into her wealthy family and would prefer avoiding her past, but with her brother threatening to reveal her young daughter, she has no choice. Rafe Iuliano has other plans. The wealthy Grants tried to bribe him out of Emma's life years ago, but he's determined to prove once and for all that a master carpenter is worthy of Emma and the house. Their ridiculous and steamy battle for the house reignites the love and passion that bloomed between them years ago. But when Rafe discovers she's kept their daughter a secret for two years, can he overcome anger and pride to claim his family and the love of his life, or will the deception drive a final wedge between them?

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Jan 3, 2014
• ISBN: 9781628301014

Book preview

Inc.

Return to Audubon Springs

by

RoseAnn DeFranco

Brothers of Audubon Springs

Book One

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Return to Audubon Springs

COPYRIGHT © 2013 by RoseAnn DeFranco

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Debbie Taylor

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Champagne Rose Edition, 2013

Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-101-4

Print ISBN 978-1-62830-094-9

Brothers of Audubon Springs, Book One

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

In loving memory of my father, Ed—

the first person to ever tell me I had a voice in writing.

~~

To my very own fisherman, my husband,

and my children,

who encouraged me to take my writing seriously,

for their faith and loving support of this writing journey.

~~

To my mother, a woman of immense resilience,

who inspires me by example every day of her life.

~~

Thank you to my fabulous Beta Reader, Lori,

who listened to every idea

and cheered me on through the first draft.

~~

Thank you to New Jersey Romance Writers

and

Liberty States Fiction Writers

for giving me the education, resources, opportunity,

friendship, and support

to turn my dreams of becoming a published author

into a reality.

Chapter One

The white designer sun hat flapped in the strong ocean breeze, obstructing Emma Grant’s first view of her former beacon in the night. A wild Jersey Shore gust of wind nearly swept the hat away until she slapped a hand on top of her head in a manner not fitting the dignified, regal role she’d come to Audubon Springs to play. A lot of heartache had passed in the three years since she’d last seen her family’s summer home.

She took a few hesitant, shaky steps in the strappy high-heeled sandals. Clamping down on nerves, she focused her eyes on the sturdy pillars of the house and forged ahead. The shoes clicked, a ticking bomb on the brick paved walk. Just as she neared the porch, one of the heels caught in a groove. She swayed, fought to right herself, but unaccustomed to such a shoe, toppled into the flower bed over an azalea bush and landed with a loud thud.

Not wanting to be seen in such a precarious position, she scrambled, pulled herself up, but fell, dragged down by the sweater she’d tied over her shoulders which was now attached to the shrub. She stood with more care this time, slowly untangling herself from the sweater while tugging fruitlessly to free it from the bush. The front door opened and footsteps sounded on the porch above her. Emma froze.

Can I help you?

Startled by his voice, familiar and sexy, Emma gave one last hard yank on the sweater, lost her balance, and toppled on her backside in the mulch.

Rafe Iuliano jogged down the porch steps until he stood right outside the garden bed. The stupid hat concealed her head, blocking her line of vision. Emma sighed when she wanted to cry. She had intended to have the upper hand during this two week charade. Being covered in dirt and in need of assistance when she set her eyes on the former love of her life did not fall in line with her plans for survival.

Um, are you all right? His low, raspy voice ignited a zing of sexual awareness she thought had died long ago. Dear God, she hadn’t even looked at him and yet every female instinct she possessed stood on alert. Not good. With only two weeks to force him out of this house, she could not afford any signs of weakness. The preservation of everything she held dear depended on it.

Of course I’m not all right. She ripped the hat off her head. Do I look all right?

Plopped in a flower bed, a complete ridiculous mess, Emma feasted her eyes on Rafe for the first time in almost three years. She didn’t try to stand. Instead she pushed her hands further into the sticky mulch, needing something to hold on to, momentarily thankful she was on solid ground. She licked her lips. He looked good with his dark wavy hair longer, the curling ends dancing in the ocean breeze. He’d tucked a rust-colored T-shirt into khaki utility shorts that clung to a very trim waistline. The shirt boasted a picture of a fish with the words Fish Fear Me written below.

Rafe could incite fear in more than a fish. Emma’s lips parted, and the sound of her heartbeat flooded her ears.

Most of her life Emma felt too tall, gangly, and awkward, but she’d felt petite and feminine beside Rafe’s six-foot frame. He had maintained his trim, muscular physique yet he somehow appeared bigger, older. No doubt his work as a carpenter in the family business kept him fit. A flash of memory sprang to Emma’s mind of when she had run her hands over his hard muscled body on a regular basis. How the hell was she supposed to act the part of a society princess, and keep her secret, if one glimpse left her breathless?

All this and she hadn’t even looked into his stunning eyes. Heaven help her, she didn’t think she could. The dark depths of his brown eyes always held the power to disarm her in an instant.

It’s good to see you too, Emma. Rafe smiled. A flash of dimples tugged on her memory and heart. Is falling into men’s flower beds a habit or should I feel special?

As it happens, I don’t see this as your flower bed, but rather my own.

Finally here to claim what’s yours? He made no move to help her. Cutting it close, aren’t you? There’s only five weeks left. A stipulation in her father’s will would ultimately grant Rafe full ownership of the house if she didn’t intervene. When her father passed away, he left the family summer home equally to Emma and Rafe. Emma believed this the result of bribery. A valuable asset in the Grant family portfolio, the house appraised at nearly seven million dollars. Her brother Daniel expected Emma to hold on to the property no matter what the personal cost.

Daniel only ever saw dollar signs. He recognized the value of things, not people.

Are you going to help me up or not?

Rafe took a deep breath and reached out a hand. When they touched, the same powerful jolt of heat and electricity that used to exist between them ran up her arm and straight to her heart. He pulled harder than necessary, and Emma slammed into his chest. She took a quick step back, needing space, and almost landed in the garden again. Rafe held on and steadied her.

Whoa, easy. I don’t think the shrubs can take anymore.

Her stomach twitched at the sound of his voice, so close it resonated in her ear and vibrated down her spine. His scent, masculine and fresh-from-a-shower clean, mesmerized her. He surrounded her even though he only stood in front of her, balancing her.

Let go of me, she whispered.

He complied by raising his hands, palms out, in the air as if they’d been burned. His heat lingered on her skin, and she ached with the loss of his touch. Emma went to work brushing the gritty mulch from her shaking hands.

You always were a bit clumsy, huh, Ems?

She snapped her head up, and her eyes landed on his playful grin.

That had nothing to do with being clumsy. This walk is damaged. Look! She pointed to the high-heeled contraption, still stuck in the dreaded walkway.

Now, that is a seriously dangerous shoe, Rafe responded with a low whistle, then turned his gaze on her, looking her over from head to toe. I’m surprised you attempted to walk in them.

That is a seriously damaged Prada. Emma scanned the garden. She found the other shoe and picked it up. And this is a seriously dirty Prada, she said, waving it in front of him.

Sorry, ma’am, if I’d known it was a Prada, I would have shown it all the respect it deserves.

Emma focused on the house and gardens to avoid looking into those impossibly dark eyes. Once upon a time he looked at her with such depth and warmth. What would she see in his eyes now? She knew, and for once, the thought brought her no comfort.

From the outside, the house looked like a large comfortable old bed and breakfast with white siding and blue shutters. Much of the floor plan on the first floor went to the large wraparound porch. The same strong navy blue and white striped awnings she remembered as a girl covered the porch and the same furniture graced the space. While she knew the inside to be opulent, spacious, and sparkling, this porch was her favorite part of the house. As a child she spent countless hours wrapped in the safe cocoon of the porch awnings. Several pivotal moments in her life took place here, many of them with the man standing beside her.

The gardens looked as lush as ever. Colorful, blooming azaleas and rhododendrons along with various annual flowers filled the sprawling beds and wove around the grounds of the porch. Pots of various shapes and sizes overflowed with colorful geraniums and impatiens, among other flowers she didn’t know by name. She paid a monthly sum for exterior maintenance, however Rafe took care of the house.

It looks good, she said then ground her teeth. She had no intention of praising him in any way. He’d been living here since her father died and how he came by the property enraged her. You probably booby-trapped the whole place though. After hearing from Daniel, you probably figured out I was coming. She tugged on her sweater once, twice, until it pulled free from the shrub.

Regardless of what the almighty Grants think, Daniel’s threats to take this house from me did not put me in a state of quivering fear. As for you, Emma— He said her name intimately and a flicker of heat ran up her spine. I can honestly say anything I could have dreamt up would not have worked as successfully as your own inability to walk.

Emma didn’t dare look at him. She’d been a mass of nerves around him for years as a teen which resulted in countless slips, falls, and blunders. She refused to go down that part of memory lane. I expect this walkway will be repaired by end of day tomorrow.

Really? And how is that going to happen?

Isn’t that what your people do for a living? Don’t the Iulianos know how to fix or build just about anything? If you can’t do it yourself, then call one of your million brothers or cousins. Gather up the cavemen and see that it gets done.

"Well, maybe my people are busy tomorrow. After all, Saturdays are a busy day for cavemen."

Then we’re back to you. The heat of the sun threatened to melt the thick coating of makeup along with her resolve to keep this ridiculous charade going. Her cell phone rang and she glanced at the caller ID. Daniel’s name flashed on the screen and she silenced it. She needed no reminder of her goal in coming here. She’d never understood the power of blackmail before, and Daniel held all the cards.

She reached down to pull the shoe out of the walk. When it would not budge, she adjusted her position and tried yanking it with both hands. It refused to move. She stood with a huff, shoved the other shoe into her bag, and snapped her head in Rafe’s direction. Do you mind? She pointed to the shoe.

I do mind. I mind very much.

You’re not going to get that for me? She crossed her arms over her chest.

No. I don’t think I am. He shook his head, his lips pursed in thought.

Then it’s going to stay there until you fix the walk.

I have no intention of fixing a walk that is in perfectly good condition. As for your shoe, I’d be more than happy to get it for you when your attitude changes or when hell freezes over. Which do you think will happen first?

She smirked and flipped her too straight hair over her shoulder. She spent all morning in the salon and spa. Everything down to the color and texture of her hair felt wrong. We’ll learn to walk around it. She turned toward the front door. Shall we? I can’t wait to see what you’ve done with the house. I’m sure it’s all rustic and lived in by now. She walked up the steps, but he didn’t follow. Only the sound of the singing birds and the ocean beyond filled the air. What? No grand tour?

Rafe stood unmoving. His arm muscles tensed, then relaxed.

Her fingers ached with the urge to touch him.

Rustic and lived in? he said.

Her lips twitched. Her insult hit the mark. Even in this flustered state, she had the presence of mind to get back on course with her plan to drive Rafe out of here. He was not the only person Daniel threatened, and Emma’s stakes were much higher than the fate of this house.

Yes. A home fit for a caveman. The words sounded false on her tongue, but she called upon the years of pent-up anger for steam. She’d never thought such things of Rafe, but she was playing a part now. Their history taught her Rafe would easily believe the superior rich-girl act.

His full lips pressed together to form a thin line, exposing his dimples once again, while he assessed her through shrewd eyes. I’m going to let that slide, for now. I had all the locks changed. Do you have the set of keys I sent?

He’d sent them directly to her as opposed to through their attorneys. They’d sat in her hand like an invitation. I threw them out. The temptation they represented was too great.

Right. Rafe exhaled loudly. Of course you did. I have an extra set inside. He walked up the steps and opened the door. Are you coming?

Emma took a deep breath and walked through the door he held open with what she hoped was a very Lady-of-the-Manor air she did not feel or believe for one second. She welcomed the reprieve from the heat when she first stepped inside then stopped in the foyer, stunned.

It occurred to her he might make some changes, but not the entire look, feel, and energy of the house. Even though it was their summer home, her mother decorated it in the same style as their main house. Back then it had been filled with big bulky dark wooden antique furniture. Her mother also favored uncomfortable Queen Anne sitting chairs and sofas. The walls had been white with the occasional floral stenciling. Emma felt as if she lived in a cold museum or antique shop.

Rafe hadn’t just made changes, he managed a transformation. It looked like an entirely different house. She loved it instantly. He’d painted the walls in the foyer, living room, and dining room with deep warm earth tones. Emma walked through each in complete, awed silence. He replaced the furniture with maple tables and cabinets. Their uncomplicated designs celebrated the natural beauty of the wood. She fought the urge to touch the gleaming sofa table and lost. As soon as her fingertips stroked the smooth wood, she knew Rafe had made it with his own hands. Warmth radiated from the wood. She pulled an unsteady hand away and focused on the overstuffed leather sofas in a welcoming caramel color. She’d like to sink into one and forget all her troubles for a while.

Was this underneath the blue carpets? She tapped her toe on the gorgeous hardwood floors.

Just waiting to breath. Rafe nodded.

And the area rugs?

I found them in the attic and had them cleaned. You paid the bill for half of everything I did.

She nodded, vaguely remembering approving the transfer of money from her trust fund. She loved every change but resolved to never tell him. Instead, she held on to her anger and the role she needed to play. Where is all the other furniture? Did you sell it? Those are antiques.

Of course not. I only use about a quarter of the house. It’s mostly piled into the great room. At least, I think that’s what your family used to call it. Do you like it?

What other changes should I know about? she asked, careful not to look him in the eye.

The kitchen, I guess.

Emma turned in the direction of the kitchen and stopped when she reached the spot where a door should have been. The kitchen had been a functional room for staff only. It was never meant to be seen by the house occupants and guests. The staff had used an outside entrance to the kitchen from the back of the house. There had also been a swinging wooden door that separated the functioning area of the kitchen from the large Florida room. It was in this room, surrounded by windows, that the family took their morning and midday meals.

Rafe had knocked down the upper half of the kitchen’s interior wall and tore down the swinging door, thus opening the kitchen area to the Florida room. The kitchen itself, which she always saw