The fifth and final course of the gala dinner had been served and finished. Lacey was thankful that the caterer had taste and common sense. The meal was fantastic – one of the best ones she’s ever had at a charity event. Even her father had enjoyed the food. Lacey probably would have enjoyed the food and the company more if Blake hadn’t been staring at her on and off during the meal. Granted, she stole a few glances at him, but surely she wasn’t looking at him like a hungry wolf - the way he was looking at her. A six piece orchestra had begun to play. Lacey was willing with every fiber of her being for Will to ask her to dance so she could get out of Blake’s sight for a while. After ten minutes of chatting, her father had asked her mother to dance. Her mother happily accepted. Lacey looked at Will expectantly. “I would ask you to dance, but I don’t know how to do . . . the type of dances that are done

Saturday night . . . Lacey was so excited she could barely contain herself as she watched the crème de la crème of New York show up at Early’s Gallery. “Darling, take a breath. You’re going to bounce right out of your shoes,” her mother joked. Her father and Will chucked. Lacey had called Will as soon as Desmond had left the house. She had screamed into the phone with excitement and begged Will to be her escort for the night. Will had laughed and happily agreed. Then he told her how proud and happy he was for her. He wore a black suit with a white shirt and a blue and silver stripped tie. When her father had arrived home, Lacey had jumped in his lap in the study like she was a little girl again and told him the incredible news. He had laughed and said, “Of course, I’ll be there, sweetheart.” When her mother had come home hours later, Lacey had burst into her bedroom while she wa

Two years ago . . . Benjamin Dandridge was so ill now that his old bedroom at the Dandridge estate had to be completely made over, containing a hospital bed, monitors, IV, a breathing machine, and other medical equipment and supplies. Everything that could be done had been done, but to no avail. He was going to die. His only request was to die at home – where he grew up. So, his mother, Phillipa, had made all the arrangements so when he had been released from the hospital everything was ready for him. Ben was sick of the pain, the medications, having to defecate on a bed pan and being sponged bathed and wiped like a child. Damn it, he wasn’t a child he was a man. And he was sick of it all. His past jet dark hair was now all white. His dick was so limp that Viagra didn’t do any good. What was once muscle was now flabby skin and God knows what else.My life is shit! Ben would do away with himself if he had the strength. No reason to linger

Two days later . . . Lacey was in her studio at home slowly working on the portrait of Blake. She had started the project in hopes of working him out of her system through art but it didn’t seem like it was working. It just made her think of him more. There was a part of her that just wanted to be over it and him. But after seeing him two days ago at his penthouse, the other part of her yearned for him more than what she had during the last part of the summer. She exhaled heavily. She had to admit a man had never gone through the trouble to be with her the way Blake has. Granted, she hadn’t appreciated being abducted from her first showing at Early’s but it was one heck of a move. When she had confided in her mother about why she had disappeared for so long from the art showing, she had scoffed with disgust. “Goodness. What kind of a man does something like that?” A man in love, Lacey’s thought with wonder.

Blake finally revealed their whereabouts when they landed. Bora Bora. Lacey was definitely surprised. She had never been to Bora Bora. From what she understood, it was one of the most romantic locations in the world – along with her beloved Paris, of course. Blake had rented them a two bedroom luxury beachfront villa at the Four Seasons Resort. The living room and dining room was an open floor plan. The villa had a terrace with a private pool and outdoor kitchen and shower. The living space was large, filled with ivory furnishings with colorful throw pillows. The walls were light-colored wood. The roof appeared to be made out of straw, but surely wasn’t. There were other villas around them, but they were far apart enough to give the inhabitants sufficient privacy. In New York it was after midnight but in the French Polynesia it was after 7 p.m. Luckily, Lacey had caught a nap on the jet. Apparently, Blake had done the same. He had gone to the jet be