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Impossible Arrangements: Carmen's Story
Impossible Arrangements: Carmen's Story
Impossible Arrangements: Carmen's Story
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Impossible Arrangements: Carmen's Story

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Faced with a philandering fiancé, staff that is falling apart at her resort spa in England, and a sister who just delivered twins, Carmen Coulter, has her hands full.
The resort is visited by an outlandish biker group, which includes a runaway psych patient, a former FBI profiler, a job-hopping sister of reformed bad boy, Parker McAnelley—Carmen is overwhelmed. Her attraction to Parker, an amiable, helpful, and articulate, not to mention handsome man, is fraught with complications. Will she stay with her wandering fiancé or succumb to her fascination with the tattooed biker?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherHaven Raines
Release dateMar 31, 2014
ISBN9781311696199
Impossible Arrangements: Carmen's Story

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    Impossible Arrangements - Haven Raines

    Chapter 1

    ‡ ‡

    England – May

    Carmen Coulter rested her head on her fiancé Landon’s shoulder and waltzed around the dance floor erected in the garden. Landon, that’s the nicest thing you ever said to me. Their engagement made business sense, but… she had qualms. Snuggled in his arms now though, her gauzy tea-length dress floating around her ankles, she could be happy with him for the first time in a long while.

    Her sister’s wedding had been a bear to plan, with last minute changes, flower delivery problems, and non-stop neediness from Rachel, the pregnant-with-twins bride. Finally, with the reception smoothly underway Carmen had time to take a breath, admire the decorations, and spend a few moments with her own fiancé.

    As if the universe refused to allow her this moment of peace, a messenger weaved among the guests. He tapped Landon’s arm and whispered in his ear.

    Landon pulled away from her. Excuse me.

    Heat crept up Carmen’s neck. He’d left her standing alone on the dance floor? It took her a few moments to collect her thoughts. She peered through the crowd at his retreating back. His broad shoulders erect, his dark auburn ponytail trailed past his shoulders as he hurried up the hill. She glanced around the room at the other guests.

    Wedding guests mingled in the festive tents set up near the lake. Trace and Rachel, the newlyweds, were entwined in each other’s arms. Children climbed under tables. Everyone had someone at the moment. Everyone but her. Carmen stood amidst the guests, alone.

    In the distance Landon slipped into a side door of Farnsworth Hall, the English castle her mom, Elizabeth Coulter, had recently added to her resort chain and remodeled into a resort spa. He frequently left her for what he claimed were business matters—sometimes for a brief telephone call, sometimes for a trip to London. Always urgent and always more important than any plans she had made. But today her sister had just married his brother. It shouldn’t be too much to assume he could push business aside and be attentive to the family at least for this day. She picked up her skirts and swept to the buffet table. Do you have any alcohol you can put in this fruit punch?

    The waiter shook his head. No, ma’am.

    Carmen gritted her teeth as she accepted the drink from him. Damn. The cup tottered unsteady in her hand.

    Her younger sister, Amanda, joined her, slipped a metal flask from her purse, and splashed whiskey into Carmen’s cup.

    You’re a lifesaver. Carmen gulped the liquid then held the cup for Amanda to refill.

    She obliged, doused her own cup of punch with alcohol, and herded Carmen away from the ears of the waiter. So, I saw Landon leave you on the dance floor. What’s up?

    Carmen shrugged. He got a message, stopped dancing, and left me standing. No explanation. Nothing. She took a sip. I’m just waiting.

    Are you kidding? Come on. Let’s check out what he was in such a hurry to do. Amanda set her cup on the table.

    Gathering their skirts, the duo swished up the hill and entered the same door as Landon. Hear that? Amanda put her finger to her lips and headed toward the library.

    With leather-bound volumes from floor to ceiling, bookshelves lined the room. Cozy overstuffed chairs with brass floor lamps dotted the room. A carved cherry wood desk set along the west wall. Carmen pushed a stone by the carved mantel, and with a soft scrape the fireplace turned outward. They slipped inside the wall, took a few steps in the dark narrow passage, and stopped behind the fireplace in the spa office, which offered a perfect view of the interior.

    Landon and a young woman were entwined in a lover’s embrace. He caressed the girl’s blonde tresses, as he said, I was coming to London tomorrow.

    Carmen sucked in her breath. So this is what occupied all his time. His Thursday trips to London for the last six months. I’m…

    Amanda slapped her hand over Carmen’s mouth. Sssh.

    The girl whispered something in Landon’s ear then pushed him away. He rubbed the back of his neck and leaned forward. I’ve got a plan to get a good deal of money from this heiress then we can do whatever we want. He folded her into his arms and tilted her head for his kiss.

    Carmen’s hands curled into claws. The heiress? He meant her. She was the heiress! So, that’s what he thought of her. She and Landon had talked about merging their assets after their marriage. Did he plan to liquidate her stock holdings, sell her family heirlooms, or somehow get his hooks into the family resort business? Well, she’d see about that.

    Amanda tugged on Carmen’s arm and pulled her along the passageway back to the library. Okay, this is your ticket out of this engagement.

    Arms rigid at her sides, fists clenched, teeth bared, Carmen slapped a book off a nearby table then marched to the door. I’m going in there to confront them. How dare he do this to our family? To me?

    Amanda threw herself in Carmen’s path and pushed her back against the door. I don’t think so. Have some pride. Break off the engagement yourself, for personal reasons, and take a vacation. Let him stew over the reason.

    Carmen stared. A vacation? Are you crazy?

    I know you’re not in love with him. What’s the problem? Now’s the time to do something for yourself. Like the old days. Amanda gave her a shake. Lately you’ve had me worried. You’ve done everything anybody asks of you without question, without fail. Now is the ideal time for you to scram. Leave Landon hanging. You know it’s what you want to do.

    Carmen sighed. The oldest of three sisters, she’d been only sixteen when she’d had her first child, married, and divorced. A decade later, her mother had insisted she settle down and learn the business. Calm Horizons Resort Spa conglomerate was based in Florida where she and her sisters had grown up. Her mother had expanded to England just last year and had a casino resort spa under development in France. And now, at thirty-three, she had finally realized her mother depended on her for way too much.

    After three deep calming breaths, Carmen squared her shoulders. An idea had been niggling at her consciousness for weeks. Now was the time to act. Okay, here’s my plan. Before she could voice her scheme, her cell phone rang. She looked at the number that flashed on the screen. It’s Landon.

    Blow him off.

    Carmen sat on the corner of the desk. Landon, I can’t talk, I’ve guests to attend to.

    No? All right. She glanced at the ceiling and back at her sister.

    Amanda’s long brown waves shook back and forth as she motioned for her to hang up the phone. Carmen shrugged and sat statue-like with the receiver to her ear.

    Amanda grabbed the phone. Landon, it’s pretty hectic here. We’re planning retaliation. Call you later. Bye. She hung up, grinned, and turned to Carmen. See how easy it is?

    Carmen’s mouth dropped open as she stared at her youngest sister. Amanda, she squeaked. A tiny giggle escaped, followed by full-bodied laughter. Trying to control her shock, she wiped tears and fanned her face. Amanda, he has important political ties in England that could easily hurt Mom’s business. You might want to handle him with a little more tact. She needed to think through her actions very carefully and handle her engagement to Landon with discretion. She’d love to tell him where to go and what to do with himself when he got there, but her mother’s business might very well depend on her actions.

    Amanda sobered. I get it. He’s connected and could be an asset. I’ll even say he’s easy to look at. She picked up the book Carmen had knocked to the floor and waved it in the air. But you and I both know Landon’s not the one for you. Why are you letting him use you? What gives?

    It’s complicated. Carmen rubbed her temples. I’m a means to an end for him, that’s all. Money and connections are all I am to him.

    So?

    Carmen paced, her eyes narrowed. Okay, here’s what I’ll do…

    Chapter 2

    ‡ ‡

    Carmen and Amanda climbed into the plush Calm Horizons Resort Spa airport van and headed to London. Their mother’s resort spa expansion in England was doing great. Although set in rural southern England, Farnsworth Hall had become a big attraction. Guests flew into London and were shuttled to the spa. They’d reassigned their van driver to escort current guests to a local weekend flea marketish-type affair, and they’d taken over picking up guests in London. In the morning four guests were scheduled for pickup, but tonight they were on their own. Carmen let her blonde hair fly in the wind from the open window and massaged the stress wrinkles between her eyes. Unwelcome thoughts of her rotten fiancé were banished. A night out with no strings attached. Let’s see a show.

    "We Will Rock You, the musical, is playing at the Dominion. There’s a tattoo studio around the corner from there. You can get your tattoo before it starts."

    Carmen wrinkled her brow in a deep scowl. Amanda, I don’t want a tattoo.

    Yes, you do. It’ll be the new you.

    Alexandra and Parker McAnelley landed at a people-packed Heathrow, tired and hungry. After claiming their baggage, Parker glanced around then stepped to an information cubicle. They needed to get to the bike rental shop before it closed. Which way to the Wandsworth Town train?

    The clerk pointed to the left. Get your tickets first then go to the rail terminal.

    Alex nodded her thanks. Come on Parker, grab the suitcases. Let’s get a move on. He shook his head, handed his sister one case, and followed with their bedrolls, backpacks, and a roller bag.

    Pleased to find the tickets weren’t too pricey, Parker and Alex caught the train and rode the sixteen miles from Heathrow to pick up their Harley-Davidsons. They were joining the bike tour at a spa, staying for a week, and then riding across Europe. Having bikes available at the spa to explore neighboring sights at their leisure would be a plus.

    Parker grinned at the 1948 Knucklehead in the store window. Look, Alex, it’s like the one the guys gave me for graduation.

    Alex smiled. Like you deserved it.

    I can’t help it if I’m a likeable guy, smart, going somewhere.

    She shook her head. This bike tour might bring out the old you.

    Parker hoisted the backpack higher on his broad shoulders. The old him. Sure, he’d been in a little trouble as a teenager. Well, more than a little trouble. He’d pushed the limits to the point his parents enrolled him in a military boarding school and forgot about him. He winced. His mother’s tears, as his father drove him away from their comfortable home, still tugged at his heart.

    Only Alex had bothered to attend his high school and his college graduation. He’d hooked up with a rough bunch of guys who ran a bike restoration business, and although college had been delayed by ten years, he’d paid his own way through law school. His occasional exotic dancing gigs provided money for extracurricular activities. Parker grinned. If dad only knew.

    He signed the rental papers and checked over the bikes. Everything looks good to me. After storing their belongings in the saddle bags, he tied the cases on with bungee cords, secured his ponytail with a leather strap, and they took off toward London.

    The wind whipped Parker’s face. His back muscles were knotted from the endless plane ride and recent stress. On his bike the tension floated away. Free of school, free of tests, free until September when he started his new job. He sped up to get Alex’s attention, as she weaved side to side, oblivious of the road markings.

    Alex’s mouth moved. Her head and shoulders bobbed in rhythm.

    Shoot. Parker’s heart pounded at the sight of the oncoming Mercedes barreling toward her. It wasn’t slowing. Look out!

    She swerved, skidded through damp grass, a water-filled ditch, and slid sideways into a fence. Throwing her helmet on the ground, she extracted her legs, and kicked the bike.

    The Mercedes driver honked as he roared past.

    Parker pulled up beside her. Cripes, Alex’d kill herself one of these days. You okay?

    Yeah. She stomped. Water splashed with each step. Danged car was on the wrong side of the road.

    He shook his head. The girl had nine lives. At twenty-five and out on her own since she was nineteen, she still acted like a teenager sometimes. She couldn’t keep a job and picked loser boyfriends. This summer he’d keep her safe and enjoy some free time himself. Then at the end of the summer, he’d help her get settled wherever she chose before he headed for San Francisco and his new job.

    He popped an antacid then set her bike upright and checked for damage. Alex, we’re in England. Remember? Did you forget they drive on the opposite side of the road?

    No, but that driver was speeding and swerved too close. He should get with the program and drive right. I could’ve been killed. She brushed the water off her leather pants, scraped mud from her boots then picked up her helmet. Another car whizzed by, splattering rain on their legs. She raised her hand in a crude gesture.

    Parker spotted a dent on the gas tank and gash in the seat. She would be the death of him. Okay, these bikes are rentals. You can’t throw them on the ground without expecting consequences. We’ll have to find some work while we’re here to pay for this damage.

    Alex shrugged and smoothed her hand over the tear. I’ll find someone who does leather repair somewhere along our trip. I have a few dollars. You can pound out the dent.

    He threw up his hands. Okay, you’re paying for your own mistakes.

    Stop worrying. She fiddled with her MP3 player and poked an earplug in her ear. Nodding in rhythm, she swung her leg across the bike seat. Let’s get going.

    The spasm in his neck twisted like a steel tow cable. Alex, focus. What hotel are we staying in tonight?

    She continued to mumble about cars and traffic in general.

    Are you listening? When she didn’t answer, he repeated his question.

    Yes, I’m listening. She shrugged her shoulders. Can’t remember right now. It’ll come to me.

    He took a deep breath and rotated his shoulders. Alex, I’m going to wring your neck if we miss our ride to the resort spa tomorrow. The car is picking us up at that hotel.

    I’ll remember. Chill. She wiped condensation from the handle bars. It’s cool here and it’s almost June. She wrinkled her nose. Ooh, it’s raining harder. She closed her eyes for a moment then wound her thick blonde tresses into a knot on her head. As she donned her helmet, a rush of water slammed onto her face. Eek, Parker help.

    He grinned and threw her his dew rag. Get on your bike and stop stalling. I’m starving. A few miles from London, he gestured to a McDonald’s. They parked their bikes close to the building in full view then went in to order. Returning outside, they spread their food on a table protected by an awning.

    Through mouthfuls of fries, Alex said, I want to get a tattoo before we find our hotel. Everyone in the biker group probably has a tattoo. I want one too.

    Are you joking? You should’ve gotten one in the States.

    Alex looked around and spied a white-haired man in black leather pants and scuffed boots perched next to a mud-encrusted touring bike. She tilted her head to get Alex’s attention. Willie Nelson?

    He shook his head. No, no, no. He wouldn’t be caught dead on anything but a Harley.

    She waved to get the biker’s attention. Hey, do you happen to know where the nearest tattoo parlor is around here?

    Around the corner, but the best one is run by my son on Tottenham Court Road, close to the Dominion Theatre.

    Alex slid Parker a questioning glance. Shall we?

    He nodded, pleased to see a smile light up her face. You bet. This is the new us. Since she’d lost her last job, he’d paid her bills and brought her on this trip to keep her out of trouble. If a tattoo would distract her from her problems, then so be it. He’d help her have a good summer. If she wanted a tattoo, then he would get her a tattoo, within reason of course. No vulgar skull and crossbones or naked men for his sister.

    Follow me as soon as ya’ve finished with your meal. I’ll show ya a short cut, The old biker waited until they disposed of their trash then swung his leg over the seat, buckled his helmet in place, revved the motor, and popped a wheelie out of the parking lot.

    The two Harleys’ engines coughed and sprang to life.

    In London the traffic was atrocious. Cars and buses pressed close together. Horns blared. The zigzagged lines on the street caught Parker’s attention and stumped him for a moment. What was he supposed to do? Traffic had slowed, but that was all.

    People with maps lined the sidewalks, some sign-wielding protestors lounged by a bridge, and flyers fluttered in the streets.

    Alex barely looked at the road as she stared at every sight. Her front bike wheel veered toward Parker.

    He yelled over the traffic noises, careful to avoid her erratic driving. Hey! Watch it.

    That’s Buckingham Palace.

    Nodding, Parker pulled over to watch guards in red coats and tall black bearskin hats march back and forth inside the gate. Rifles perched on their shoulders.

    Look at that red tour bus. Alex tilted her head and grinned. Can we? Please? I want to see the changing of the guard. Please?

    Ink first. We’ll see if we have time later.

    She nodded and accelerated to catch their guide.

    The ancient biker pointed at a tattoo shop and sped away.

    They parked their bikes out front. A row of motorcycles lined the street. Alex, if we don’t do the tour today, we’ll do it before we leave England. Okay?

    Skeptical, she nodded then eyed the tattoo studio and wrinkled her nose. This place looks a little tacky.

    They all do. Come on. Let’s get this out of the way. He gripped her arm and herded her toward the door.

    She jerked away and slammed into two girls in designer jeans then landed on her bottom on the pavement close to the row of bikes. A little closer and she could’ve knocked them to the ground like a line of dominoes. Parker pictured a biker riot caused by his sister and laughed.

    The tall busty blonde glared at him then helped Alex up. Are you okay?

    Alex brushed off her pants. Alex McAnelley, from Atlanta, Georgia, United States. Sorry if I jarred you. She pointed to Parker and sneered. My helpful brother, Parker.

    Hi, I’m Carmen Coulter. She waved her arm. My sister, Amanda.

    Amanda took a paper from her Gucci handbag and stared at Parker. You’re Parker McAnelley?

    He glanced at the blonde, blinked then turned his attention to Amanda, eyebrows raised. How’d you know?

    Amanda pointed to her list. I have a printout of our guest registrations. She turned to the blonde standing beside her. Look, Carmen, these are two of the guests we’re meeting in the morning. She looked back at Alex. You’re scheduled to stay with a group of bikers at Calm Horizon’s Resort Spa for the next week, right?

    Alex cast a questioning glance toward him then flashed a tentative smile at Amanda. "Yep, that would

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