His Deception

  His Deception is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  A Loveswept Ebook Original

  Copyright © 2016 by Patricia Pinianski

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Loveswept, an imprint of Random House, a division of Random House LLC, a Penguin Random House Company, New York.

  LOVESWEPT is a registered trademark and the LOVESWEPT colophon is a trademark of Random House LLC.

  eBook ISBN 9781101965078

  Cover design: Derek Walls

  Cover photograph: vgstudio/Shutterstock

  randomhousebooks.com

  v4.1

  ep

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Dedication

  About the Author

  The Editor’s Corner

  Chapter 1

  Thorne Hudson turned from South Lake Shore Drive onto the narrow Wisconsin road that led straight to Geneva Lake. A moment later, he pulled his truck off alongside a wooded area. Grabbing his binoculars, he got out and surveyed the south shore to get his bearings. Through the trees, he could see a couple of speedboats skipping across the middle of the lake, one towing a bikini-clad redhead on water skis. He looked across the lake to the heart of the Wisconsin tourist town. Busy, busy, but nothing to arouse suspicion. Closer to the lake, he glimpsed parts of houses—mostly mansions—with landscaped grounds and, along the water, their private docks, many with boats tied to them.

  A couple of teenagers were walking the shore path that wound twenty-one miles around the lake. He stayed on them for a moment, just to be certain, then continued his inspection, stopping when he came to a building with a gray stone first level, white clapboard covering the two additional stories. Checking the photo on his cellphone, he confirmed he was looking at Lakeside Guest House and Café.

  Before he could put the cell away, it vibrated in his hand. He didn’t have to check the screen to know who was calling.

  He answered, “Hudson.”

  “Are you in Lake Geneva yet?”

  “Just arrived in town.”

  “Good. Good. I’m trusting you, Hudson.”

  “I’ll do what’s necessary.”

  “Remember to keep me informed.”

  And then the conversation ended as abruptly as it had begun.

  Thorne took a few more minutes to survey the area. He was nothing if not meticulous, a trait he credited with keeping him alive in Afghanistan.

  A moment later, behind the wheel of his truck again, he headed for the crowded parking lot behind Lakeside Guest House and Café. He parked off to one side far in the back, the truck’s nose pointing toward the business—he’d have privacy, if he needed it. And a good view all the way down to the lake. Getting out, he passed the guest house entrance and headed downhill, following the sign to the café. From the number of vehicles in the lot, he figured the restaurant must be doing a brisk lunch business, an observation that was confirmed when he entered the building. The cheerful room with whitewashed walls was small, with maybe twenty tables painted in blues and greens. Only two unoccupied. He could see why: the view. The room’s nearly floor-to-ceiling windows were open, letting in a fresh breeze off the lake. Beyond the windows, more customers packed an outside patio.

  He was skipping his gaze from table to table, rapidly registering who was sitting where and what they were doing, when a woman asked, “Can I help you find someone?”

  She’d come up behind him so quietly she’d surprised him.

  Turning to face her, he was surprised again by his own reaction. He recognized her, of course: Katelyn Wade. Owner of the establishment. Shoulder-length dark hair formed a sleek frame around a naturally lovely face, makeup free but for a swipe of berry on full lips that curled in a warm smile. He’d studied her photo on his cellphone enough times that he should be unfazed by now. Should be. Wasn’t. From the first time he’d seen that photo, there’d been something about her—a surprising sweetness—that he couldn’t help being drawn to no matter how hard he tried. And he couldn’t now, either. That smile of hers reaching straight to her baby blues was even more powerful in person—it heated up his insides. The simple white tank top and skirt that clung to her lush womanly curves did other, unspeakable things to him. Things he couldn’t afford to think about.

  He cleared his throat. “Just looking for a table.”

  “I can give you one of those.” The smile widened, threatening to steal his breath.

  Taking a menu from the hostess stand, she headed across the room. She had a way of walking with a slight swaying of her hips that mesmerized him for a moment. Those hips made his hands and lower parts yearn with sweet promises….

  “Here you go.” Stopping, she set the menu on a small table for two along the far wall. “While you take a look at that, can I get you something to drink?”

  Sliding into a chair, he managed, “A bottled brew. Something local.”

  “I’ll see what we have on hand.”

  With that, she whipped away. He couldn’t rip his gaze from her until she rounded the bar and stooped out of sight, undoubtedly to check an undercounter fridge for that beer. He glanced around and saw she was the only one behind the bar. Apparently no bartender at lunchtime. Then he scanned the room, starting with the customers closest to her. No one seemed to be paying her any mind, so he continued his assessment. A waitress carrying a tray of food crossed the middle of the room, and on the patio, a busboy was cleaning off a table. No one who raised his short hairs. Another glance at the Wade woman still behind the bar told him she’d retrieved that beer.

  He’d better figure out what he wanted to eat.

  He glanced at the menu, but before he got a thorough look at his options, a bottle and a mug settled on the table in front of him.

  “Want me to pour?” Katelyn asked.

  “I think I can manage.” Thorne took the bottle and filled half his glass. Foam rose and topped it. He took a sip and nodded. “Perfect.”

  “Good. I like happy customers.” She cleared her throat. “I, um, haven’t seen you here before.”

  “Maybe because I just got into town.” He put some glad-to-meet-you warmth in his tone and gave her a friendly grin. “Thorne Hudson.”

  “Thorne. Strong name. I like that.” She held out her hand. “Katelyn Wade.”

  He shook. Her grip was firm. Solid. And damn, she was smiling at him again, like she really was glad to meet him.

  Something she might have cause to regret.

  “Visiting friends?” she asked, taking back her hand.

  He shrugged. “Don’t know anyone in Lake Geneva.”

  “Vacationing alone?”

  “Nope. I’ve been doing some traveling, seeing the country while taking on different jobs.” Which was fairly accurate. “Now I’m looking to set a spell.” He locked onto her gaze, saying, “Something appealing about this place.”

  She started, then laughed. “Appealing. You mean the town or the café?”

  “Right.” He meant her and was certain she knew it. “Does the guest house have any vacancies?”

  “A few
.”

  Thorne didn’t want to press his luck. He could get back to the room situation later. “So…lunch.” He indicated the menu. “What do you recommend?”

  “Personally, I love the cauliflower steak sandwich. But I have a feeling you’re more of a meat kind of guy.”

  “I do love a good burger.”

  “Black and blue?”

  “I’m partial to blue cheese,” he admitted. “A black and blue burger it is. Rare.”

  Her eyes sparkled at him. “Of course.”

  “Rare, but not still walking,” he clarified.

  She backed away. “Got it. Coming right up.”

  She headed for the computer to put in the order, leaving Thorne feeling restless. He wanted to follow her and keep the conversation going. It took everything in him to sit tight and drink his beer and keep his attention on his surroundings.

  Which is exactly where his focus belonged.

  —

  Katelyn couldn’t help eyeing the new guy as she placed his order, then greeted a young couple at the entrance and seated them, leaving them with menus and the assurance that their waitress would be right with them.

  Because she was always too busy acting as hostess and overseeing both the dining room and kitchen, she didn’t normally take food orders.

  Thorne Hudson’s being an exception.

  Something about him…

  She glanced his way again, admired the snug T-shirt showcasing his upper body. Ripped. Super-defined muscles. Definitely hot.

  At least she’d gotten hot just looking at him.

  Another glance—she couldn’t help herself. Thick dark hair brushed the back of his neck, his high forehead and rugged cheekbones. Wide hazel eyes roamed the crowd, again making her think he was looking for someone.

  Her?

  She wished.

  “Katelyn, there you are.”

  The deep male voice brought her back to her work. She turned around to meet a set of sharp gray eyes. “Mr. Eklund, I didn’t see you come in.” And at six feet, with thick silver hair, he was hard to miss.

  “You weren’t in the room,” he said, “so Tansy seated me. And as I’ve told you before, call me Gerard.”

  “Gerard,” she agreed. “Have you looked over today’s specials?”

  “I have, but I’m waiting for your recommendation.”

  Single and probably in his late forties, Gerard Eklund was a regular at the café, normally stopping in for lunch or dinner a few times a week. He was particular about his food and so sought her opinion before he ordered. Lately he’d been here every day and had become more demanding of her time. Since he was the kind of customer who undoubtedly recommended the café to his friends and acquaintances, she gladly went the extra mile to give him what he wanted.

  She said, “The shrimp risotto would be my choice.”

  “Then it will be mine.”

  “I’ll let Tansy know.” She started to step away. “I’m swamped today.”

  “You shouldn’t have to work so hard.”

  “I love what I do, so it doesn’t feel like work.”

  “An attitude you undoubtedly inherited from your parents.”

  “From my father,” she admitted.

  “You’ve mentioned him before. What was his name? Ronald? No, Robert.”

  “Good memory.”

  “Robert Wade.” He looked thoughtful. “No, doesn’t ring a bell. What does he do again?”

  “He’s a businessman.” Not about to announce that her father’s notorious last name was Hamilton—or get into the fact that he was the CEO of one of several companies that he owned—Katelyn looked for an out. “Oh, I see we have a new arrival.” Thankfully, a lone woman had just come into the café.

  “Wait, I would like a drink. One of your Lakeside specials.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t have a bartender right now. I can only offer you a beer or wine.”

  “A craft beer, then. Surprise me.” Before she could leave, he mused, “Hmm, the bartender wasn’t here yesterday, either.”

  Katelyn couldn’t believe Sam had gone AWOL during tourist season, and without a word. Which was going to be a problem that night when a dozen women having a birthday party for a friend just turning twenty-one showed up. They were expecting more than wine and beer. Sam had always been so responsible and acted like he had her back. Until now.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but we’re working on it. Enjoy your meal.”

  “I would enjoy it more if you would pay me more mind.”

  Forcing a smile, she left without another word. Geez, talk about demanding. He was getting to be a bit much. Harder to keep her smile real when dealing with him. A few moments later, after seating the new customer, she went in search of Tansy. The blond waitress was at a wait station, placing an order on a computer.

  “I have another one for you,” Katelyn said. “Gerard Eklund. Shrimp risotto.”

  Tansy raised her eyebrows. “Hmm. Someone has a not-so-secret crush.”

  “Hardly. The man simply thrives on personal attention.”

  Entering the order, Tansy snorted. “I’m sure he’d like to give you lots of personal attention away from this place.”

  “If so, he’s wasting his time.”

  “Why? You got a new boyfriend?”

  “I have a new business,” Katelyn countered. “That takes up all my spare time.”

  “There’s always time for sex. On that note, order’s up. Later.”

  In her mid-twenties, Tansy had a good sense of humor and often shared bits and pieces of her sexual adventures. Not that Katelyn minded. Tansy could be amusing. She was also a hard worker and a great waitress. Katelyn liked her and knew she could count on her to handle anything.

  Noticing several more couples waiting near the entry, she rushed over to greet them. Thankfully, a few more tables had opened up. As she seated them, she couldn’t help but think about Tansy’s offhand comment about sex, which made her turn her gaze toward Thorne Hudson yet again. When she’d been talking to him, she’d had the distinct feeling that he felt the same sexual spark that had captivated her. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

  Realistically, she attracted mostly boy-next-door types. Nice guys. Or a young businessman looking for a woman who could kick-start his career. She took a deep breath. Didn’t want to think about Aaron Starkman again. The con man had gotten close to her, had made her think about marriage, when she’d merely been a game piece to him, her father’s professional backing being the prize. She’d rather daydream about Thorne Hudson, even if he was nothing like the really nice, really clean, really boring men who usually sought her company. Well, he seemed nice, too, if in a different way. Definitely out of her league, though.

  That didn’t keep her from imagining what it would be like to spend some quality time with him. To feel one of those ripped arms curled around her back. To anticipate getting closer…

  Katelyn started. What was wrong with her? She didn’t know anything about the man, for heaven’s sake. For all she knew, he could be some kind of pervert. Or someone who used women and left them.

  Maybe she ought to let Tansy, who was the waitress in his area, take over his table service. Yes, that’s what she should do.

  Only she didn’t.

  When his order came up from the kitchen, Katelyn took it to his table herself.

  As she drew closer, she hesitated. Her pulse was thrumming. And he was still scanning the crowd as if looking for someone. Or something. His expression was so intent, it gave her a weird feeling. What was he searching for? But then, as if instinct told him she was there, he turned and met her gaze. His expression immediately shifted into friendly. And that sexy smile…

  “Hey, that was quick,” he said.

  “I have an efficient kitchen staff.”

  His gaze bore down on the fancy burger and hand-cut fries. “My mouth is already watering.”

  She set the plate down in front of him. “Check the burger to make sure it’s the way y
ou like it.”

  One eyebrow arched sexily and he grinned as he picked up the burger. Katelyn felt a rush of something tingly shoot through her stomach as he took a bite. Trying to distract herself, she took a big breath.

  “Mmm, rare but not walking. Exactly as ordered.”

  She noticed his glass was half empty. “Can I get you another beer?”

  “I’m good.” He hesitated a moment, then asked, “No bartender?”

  “Not this afternoon. Or for a couple of days, actually. I have a part-timer to help with the weekends, but my full-time guy walked out on me. Just didn’t show up for work yesterday. I’ve actually had to keep drink orders to beer and wine until I find someone to replace him.”

  And this after developing a nice friendship with Sam. Nothing romantic. He’d been mooning over some woman from Fontana, one he hadn’t even dated. Yet. Sam figured he just needed to be patient.

  She’d wished she had a brother like Sam rather than the one she did have. Sam was one of the few people in town who knew who her father was and didn’t treat her differently or, worse yet, try to use her for it. How could he have walked out on her without telling her he was quitting? What would have made him be so irresponsible?

  The woman? Had he hooked up with her? What was her name again? Charlie something.

  Realizing Thorne was staring at her, she came to her senses. “Well, my work here is done.”

  She started to leave, but he stopped her short, saying, “You said your kitchen staff. And that you have a part-timer. So you manage the café?” He popped one of those fries into his mouth.

  She nodded. “Actually, I own the place.”

  “Really.” He seemed pleasantly surprised.

  “Honest.”

  “Well, you’re the one I need to talk to, then. I’ve been thinking about what you said before.”

  “What did I say?”

  “About rooms in the guest house. I’ve decided I like the place. Great lake view. Just far enough away from the center of town so it’s not too noisy. A nice change from my past few big-city digs. When I’m done eating, can you show me the rooms available for rent?”