Donna Hill - Dare to Dream

Can love ignite from a spark of desire?

Gallery owner and artist Desiree Armstrong is lucky to be alive after a fire destroyed her SoHo studio. Since then, she’s been unable to paint. With the pressure of an upcoming art exhibit looming, she’s in a panic and getting nowhere fast…until her best friend and sorority sister, Rachel, steps in. Rachel insists Desiree take a vacation, and even makes the reservation herself. But her good intentions could backfire—the reservation just happens to be at the Sag Harbor bed-and-breakfast owned by Desiree’s ex-fiancé, Lincoln Davenport. When Desiree walks back into his life, it will be up to Lincoln to extinguish lingering doubts from the past and gently rekindle her love for him....

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Acknowledgments

Many thanks to Andree Michelle

for her help with the background on Sag Harbor,

but especially for introducing me to the

incredible information on the Grenning Gallery.

Dear Reader,

Thank you for purchasing Dare to Dream, a love story that will hopefully sweep you away. I loved crafting my heroine Desiree, a strong-willed, creative young woman who is challenged on every level to regain her sense of self after losing everything. Of course, no love story would be complete without the perfect man—Lincoln Davenport—who fits the bill from head to toe. And he is determined to have Desiree—no matter what.

When I was writing this novel, I had the pleasure of spending time in the Hamptons in Sag Harbor, New York, doing “research.” Many of the scenes are peppered with real places, people and streets mixed in with a bit of my imagination. I had such a wonderful experience there that it led me to write Heart’s Reward in 2010, where I first introduced readers to Melanie Harte and her family and my edible hero Rafe Lawson, who of course is the to-die-for bachelor in my Lawsons of Louisiana series. Needless to say, I couldn’t seem to shake my love of Sag Harbor, so much so that I will be introducing a new series, Sag Harbor Village, which debuts with a new novel this fall! You’ll see some of your favorite characters from my previous books and meet some new ones. Perhaps by that time, Rafe Lawson will have settled down—or maybe not! In the meantime, please enjoy Desiree and Lincoln’s wonderful story and let me know what you think.

You can always find me on Facebook, www.facebook.com/donnahillfans, or on Twitter, www.twitter.com/donnahill, and you can always send me an email at dhassistant@gmail.com. I promise to answer.

Until next time,

Donna

Contents

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

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 1

“Desi, Carl Hampton is here to see you. He said he wanted to check on the progress of your paintings for the exhibit. I told him you were busy.”

Desiree Armstrong sighed loudly and mumbled a curse under her breath. With great reluctance she put her paintbrush down and turned to her assistant.

“Thanks, Cynthia.” She wiped her hands on her once-upon-a-time white smock that was now mottled in an array of rainbow colors. “One of these days I’m going to make enough money to host my own exhibition. Sponsors seem to have this crazy notion that the artist has nothing better to do than be at their beck and call.” She stood and rolled her stiff shoulders. “How does he ever expect me to finish my work for the show if he ‘drops by to see my progress’ every fifteen minutes?”

They both laughed.

“Tell him I’ll be right down. Let me get cleaned up and make myself semi-presentable.”

“Hey, take your time. If he really wants to see you, he’ll just have to wait, now, won’t he?”

“You got that right.”

Cynthia turned to leave the studio, her waist-length, honey-blond hair swinging behind her.

Desiree smiled as she headed toward the industrial sink set off to the right side of the studio loft. She and Cynthia had hooked up and become fast friends when Desiree was teaching an art course at Pratt Institute in Brooklyn. Cynthia had a keen eye for what was good and what wasn’t, but her artistic talents stopped cold right there. But rather than leave a profession she loved, she signed on as Desiree’s assistant and they’d been together ever since. That was five years ago, a time when Desiree desperately needed a friend. A time when she was struggling with the reality that Lincoln Davenport, the man she’d given her heart to, would never be hers. With her best friend and soror Rachel Givens heavily involved in her own life and love, Cynthia proved that she could be the ear and the shoulder Desiree needed.

Lincoln. Funny, she hadn’t thought of him in at least a week, in some form or the other. She turned on the water full blast and grabbed a bar of brown soap. That was a good sign, she thought as she briskly washed her hands with the precision of a surgeon. Maybe soon she could say two weeks, then three, and finally never.

She dried her hands on the towel hanging from a nail by the sink, pulled the smock over her head and smoothed out her badly wrinkled denim shirt. “Too bad.” She tsked and marched downstairs into the intimate gallery that bore her name. She put on her best smile when Carl turned to greet her.

“Desiree, so sorry to tear you away from your work.”

“Hmm. How are you, Carl?”

“Anxious.” He grinned. “The show is only a couple of months away. I simply wanted to check on my investment.”

Desiree placed a hand on her hip and cocked her head to the side. “Carl, you know I really appreciate your support. There is no way that I would be able to host a show myself. But…”

“But what?” He stepped closer and the scent of his cologne wafted around her like a morning mist—clinging.

Briefly she lowered her head, then looked him straight in the eye. “The thing is, Carl, the more you stop by, the longer it takes me to get finished. I have seven more paintings to complete. I need the time to concentrate. I can’t do that if I am…interrupted.”

He reached out and stroked her chin with the tip of his index finger. Desiree struggled not to recoil.

“I would think that a few moments of your time with me would be worth it. After all, we are partners, Desiree.”

The last thing she wanted to hear today was that, without him, the exhibit wouldn’t be possible. Something nasty was right on the tip of her tongue when the bell over the door rang. “Excuse me, Carl, I have a customer.”