Lenora Worth - Bayou Sweetheart

Love In Bloom

For landscaper Callie Moreau, working in the gardens of Fleur House is a dream come true. Then she meets the owner, a mysterious millionaire with rumors following him wherever he goes. Callie finds herself drawn to Tomas Delacorte in spite of the darkness in his eyes. And Tomas can’t resist the joy that Callie brings to his days. He could be the man Callie’s always prayed for. But when Tomas’s secrets come to light, and the people she’s known all her life are threatened, Callie must decide if she can stand by the man who’s stealing her heart.

She took off her gardening gloves and walked over to Tomas. “So you fight your own battles, right?”

She saw the resigned expression shuttering his eyes and felt that strange tugging inside her heart again. His eyes caught hers, and Callie saw a barrage of emotions passing through him like a blast of smoke on the horizon. “That’s what I do, yes.” He stepped closer, his dark hair shimmering as it ruffled his neck. “But…I want you to please trust me, Callie. No matter what, can you do that?”

She wanted to laugh at that suggestion. She didn’t trust easily, not since her husband had left her, in the middle of a health crisis. Not since she’d decided to live her life free and clear and without any regrets. She trusted in the Lord. That was her kind of trust.

“Sorry, I’m not so good at trusting these days.”

This time, she was the one to walk away.

LENORA WORTH

has written more than forty books for three different publishers. Her career with Love Inspired Books spans close to fifteen years. In February 2011 her Love Inspired Suspense novel Body of Evidence made the New York Times bestseller list. Her very first Love Inspired title, The Wedding Quilt, won Affaire de Coeur’s Best Inspirational for 1997, and Logan’s Child won an RT Book Reviews Best Love Inspired for 1998. With millions of books in print, Lenora continues to write for the Love Inspired and Love Inspired Suspense lines. Lenora also wrote a weekly opinion column for the local paper and worked freelance for years with a local magazine. She has now turned to full-time fiction writing and enjoying adventures with her retired husband, Don. Married for thirty-six years, they have two grown children. Lenora enjoys writing, reading and shopping…especially shoe shopping.

Bayou Sweetheart

Lenora Worth

www.millsandboon.co.uk

He shall come down like rain upon the mown grass: as showers that water the earth.

—Psalms 72:6

To Margie Clarkston and her sweet son Dennis. Thank you for reading my books!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

Chapter One

A woman danced in the rain in his garden.

Tomas Delacorte stared out the big upstairs window of Fleur House, oblivious to the coming storm. Instead, he watched the graceful woman as she lifted her face to the clouds and laughed, her long ponytail trailing around her shoulder like a flower vine, her hands out, palms up, as if she were saying a prayer. Her colorful tiered skirt was as bright as the various containers of flowers surrounding her. She had kicked off her sandals and now danced with barefoot abandon in the freshly mowed grass that sloped down to the bayou.

This must be Callie Moreau. The landscape lady.

He inhaled a deep breath. A sensation passed through his chest like a fresh wind and stirred up the dust inside his heart, causing it to beat a little faster. Causing it to warm and open and absorb. The change almost hurt—the pain of wanting was overwhelming.

She danced. And he fell in love.

He wanted to go out there and dance with her.

He wanted to be that joyous, that happy...just once in his life. But for him, that would be impossible. For him, love didn’t work. Just a silly reaction to an unusual sight.

A clap of thunder brought him out of his daydream.

The woman stopped dancing and gazed up at the sky.

Then she turned and looked at the window where he stood.

And into Tomas’s eyes.

* * *

Callie dropped her head and hurried to the long covered terrace at the back of the huge mansion, her wet clothes and hair making her shiver. Digging into the big tote bag she’d left on the porch, she found her phone and dialed her sister Alma’s number.

“He saw me,” she said when Alma answered. She had to catch her breath. She’d hurried too fast.

“Who saw you?”

Callie heard the blur of voices echoing over the line along with the sound of a cash register dinging another dollar. Alma was at the Fleur Café, as usual. And it was lunchtime.

“The man. The owner. Tomas Delacorte.”

“So you saw him? What does he look like?”

“I only got a glimpse before he disappeared. But...tall, dark, handsome. And dark, intense eyes. Visions of Heathcliff with a little bit of Mr. Darcy thrown in.”

“Heathcliff? As in Wuthering Heights? That Heathcliff?”

“Yes. That Heathcliff. I think he’s bitter and lonely. He must have loved someone and lost them. Brooding. Yes, definitely brooding.”

Alma giggled. “Oh, so you know this from a brief glimpse? Tell me more.”

She could picture Alma sinking down on a bar stool, her grin reflecting in the aged mirror that ran the length of the counter. “Yes. I was in the garden and it started raining and...I looked up and there he was, staring at me as if he’d just walked out of the pages of a historical romance novel.”

“Were you doing the rain dance thing?”

Callie twirled her wet ponytail. “Uh, maybe. Is that bad?”

“No, no. Not bad at all. I’m sure he enjoyed watching you do that silly dance.”

“He was watching. I mean, I felt him watching. I saw him at the window.” Callie went into panic mode. “What if he fires me?”

Alma laughed. “For dancing in the rain? That’s not grounds for firing someone.”

“But...I wasn’t actually doing my job.”

“You can’t dig dirt in the rain.”

“Mr. Tall, Dark and Brooding might think differently.”

Callie turned at the sound of footsteps and saw the very man she’d been talking about standing there staring at her. Again. “Uh, gotta go.”

She put away her phone and wiped a hand across her wet hair. “Hello. I’m Callie.”

“And apparently I’m Mr.—what was that?—Tall, Dark and Brooding.”

Callie’s wet skin chilled with a hot blush. She couldn’t speak. So she just stood there.

He stepped closer, giving her the full view. Nice, expensive suit, dark sleek hair that curled over his collar in a rebel way. The bluest of blue eyes with dark brows that slashed across his forehead in a perpetual brooding way. Midnight eyes would be cliché. Ocean maybe, but only the deepest, bluest of oceans. Disturbing blue. Yes, disturbing ocean-blue eyes.

Disturbing blue brooding eyes that stayed on her like a spyglass searching for interlopers. Glinting. He was definitely a glinter.

Callie’s blush crept like kudzu over her and through her. “I’m sorry to disturb you. I’m the landscaper. I mean, I’m here to work in the garden, to...redo your yard. Nick Santiago hired me.”

“I know who you are,” he replied, his voice as rough as aged cypress bark. “I saw you out the window.” He kept staring. “And I’m pretty sure you know who I am—my real name I mean.”