Sleeping Beauty's Billionaire
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February’s menu
BARONESSA GELATI
in Boston’s North End
In addition to our regular flavors of Italian gelato, this month we are featuring:
A scrumptious taste of Italian-American beauty
Convent-bred Colleen Barone is full of sugar and spice and everything nice…except for a naughty twelve-year obsession with the college sweetheart she would never forget.
A supersized serving of Irish charm
Self-made tycoon Gavin O’Sullivan has overcome poverty, a tough neighborhood and a dysfunctional family, but can he ever fill the huge hole that Colleen Barone left in his heart?
An unexpected mix of flavors
The fortunes of the Barone family have been more sweet than bitter, leading many to doubt the validity of the family’s Valentine’s Day curse. But when the introduction of their newest ice cream flavor—passion fruit—is sabotaged on V-Day, the clan rallies to turn down the heat of bad publicity and salvage their company’s reputation. Perhaps there is something to that curse after all….
Buon appetito!
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Dear Reader,
Revel in the month with a special day devoted to L-O-V-E by enjoying six passionate, powerful and provocative romances from Silhouette Desire.
Learn the secret of the Barone family’s Valentine’s Day curse, in Sleeping Beauty’s Billionaire (#1489) by Caroline Cross, the second of twelve titles in the continuity series DYNASTIES: THE BARONES—the saga of an elite clan, caught in a web of danger, deceit…and desire.
In Kiss Me, Cowboy! (#1490) by Maureen Child, a delicious baker feeds the desire of a marriage-wary rancher. And passion flares when a detective and a socialite undertake a cross–country quest, in That Blackhawk Bride (#1491), the most recent installment of Barbara McCauley’s popular SECRETS! miniseries.
A no-nonsense vet captures the attention of a royal bent on seduction, in Charming the Prince (#1492), the newest “fiery tale” by Laura Wright. In Meagan McKinney’s latest MATCHED IN MONTANA title, Plain Jane & the Hotshot (#1493), a shy music teacher and a daredevil fireman make perfect harmony. And a California businessman finds himself longing for his girl Friday every day of the week, in At the Tycoon’s Command (#1494) by Shawna Delacorte.
Celebrate Valentine’s Day by reading all six of the steamy new love stories from Silhouette Desire this month.
Enjoy!
Joan Marlow Golan
Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire
Sleeping Beauty’s Billionaire
CAROLINE CROSS
Books by Caroline Cross
Silhouette Desire
Dangerous #810
Rafferty’s Angel #851
Truth or Dare #910
Operation Mommy #939
Gavin’s Child #1013
The Baby Blizzard #1079
The Notorious Groom #1143
The Paternity Factor #1173
Cinderella’s Tycoon #1238
The Rancher and the Nanny #1298
Husband—or Enemy? #1330
The Sheikh Takes a Bride #1424
Sleeping Beauty’s Billionaire #1489
CAROLINE CROSS
always loved to read, but it wasn’t until she discovered romance that she felt compelled to write, fascinated by the chance to explore the positive power of love in people’s lives. She grew up in Yakima, Washington, the “Apple Capital of the World,” attended the University of Puget Sound and now lives outside Seattle, where she (tries to) work at home despite the chaos created by two telephone-addicted teenage daughters and a husband with a fondness for home-improvement projects. Pleased to have recently been #1 on a national bestseller list, she was thrilled to win the 1999 Romance Writers of America RITA® Award for Best Short Contemporary Novel and to have been called “one of the best” writers of romance today by Romantic Times. Caroline believes in writing from the heart—and having a good brainstorming partner. She loves hearing from readers and can be reached at P.O. Box 47375, Seattle, Washington 98146. Please include a SASE for reply.
Meet the Barones of Boston—
an elite clan caught in a web of danger, deceit…and desire!
Who’s Who in
SLEEPING BEAUTY’S BILLIONAIRE
Gavin O’Sullivan—As owner of a luxury hotel chain, he was used to handling megadeals, beautiful women and a jet-set lifestyle. But Gavin never got used to the heartbreak he suffered because of the supposed snobbery of a Barone beauty.
Colleen Barone—Seven years as a nun and her work as a high school counselor couldn’t erase the feelings Colleen still harbored for her college sweetheart. One look into his bedroom-brown eyes and she was again twenty…and in love with Gavin.
Carlo and Moira Barone—They’ve always wanted only the best for their brood, but when it comes to matters of the heart, Mama and Papa Barone are still learning that “the heart has reasons that Reason doesn’t know.”
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
One
“Hey, Colly, what’s the matter? Why’re you stopping?”
Colleen Barone only dimly registered her second cousin Matthew’s inquiries. The nine-year-old’s voice seemed far away as, her feet rooted in place, she stared transfixed at the tall, black-haired man who had just entered the reception hall.
Gavin O’Sullivan. Even among the throng of notable guests helping to celebrate her brother Nick’s wedding—and so far she’d seen four U.S. senators, the current governor of Massachusetts and two of his predecessors, a bushel of Fortune 500 CEOs and a smattering of Hollywood movie stars—he stood out. And while Colleen wished it was merely because of his chiseled good looks or the impeccable tailoring of his expensive black suit, she knew better. There was simply something about the aloof way he held himself, the serious line of his sensual mouth, the reserve in his coffee-colored eyes, that set him apart.
But then, that was Gavin. Always so intense, so unpredictable, so alone.
Of course, there’d been a handful of brief exceptions to the latter. Once upon a time, for the three years they’d played soccer together at Madison Prep, he and Nick had been best friends. And then later, during her second year of college and his last, he and Colleen had shared for a little while what could only be called magic.
An ache, brief but savage, squeezed her heart. It had been twelve years since their last meeting, and the relationship had ended badly. Yet suddenly she longed to cross the space separating them, slip her hand into Gavin’s and say something to make him smile.
If only it was that easy…
“Colleen!” Matthew’s earnest voice coupled with his sharp tug on her hand jerked her back to reality.
Tearing her gaze from the man across the room, she looked down at her young companion. “What?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m hungry, remember?”
As if someone had hit a switch, the totality of the reception hall snapped into focus for her. She heard the band playing, registered the noisy, shifting presence of the hundreds of guests, saw the impatience on her young relative’s face. “Oh, Mattie, I’m sorry. Of course you are.” Pushing away an edge of dismay—just how long had she been staring at Gavin, anyway?—she summoned a smile. “Lead the way.”
“All right.” His equanimity restored, the youngster tightened his grip on her hand and set off like a tugboat at full throttle. He chugged steadily past clumps of chatting guests and skillfully avoided knots of family members, n
ot stopping until they finally arrived at the buffet, a vast spread laid out over a river of tabletops covered with crisp white linen.
The boy’s gaze darted from the steaming casseroles to the heaps of Italian meat sliced paper thin, from stacks of golden calzones to platters of strawberries dipped in pale chocolate. He exhaled with gusty appreciation. “Wow.”
Wow was right. In her usual over-the-top fashion, Colleen’s mother, Moira, had made certain there was enough food on hand to feed all of Boston. Yet Colleen, who’d typically forgotten to eat that day and had been ravenous only a few minutes earlier, realized she no longer had an appetite.
The reason was obvious, and she felt a prick of annoyance at herself. Not that she intended to let on. Although Matthew probably wouldn’t care, she refused to allow Gavin’s unexpected presence to affect her behavior. After all, the time they’d been together had happened many years ago; neither of them was the person they’d been.
She knew she wasn’t. After a difficult, painful struggle she’d learned to accept herself. She’d carved out a life rich with friends and a job where she felt she made a difference. And though there were times she was lonely and she still had her share of doubts and fears, frustrations and longings—life after all, was a constant and ever-changing challenge—in the ways that mattered most she was at peace for the first time ever.
So quit acting like a drama queen and eat, her practical side chided. Squaring her shoulders, she handed Matthew a gold-banded china plate, then took one for herself. “It looks good, doesn’t it?” she said as she began serving them.
“Oh, yeah.”
Thirty-five minutes and one return to the buffet line later, Matthew leaned back and exhaled in satisfaction. “That was really, really scrumpdillyitious,” he announced.
Her lips quirked. “Yes, it was.” Which was perfectly true as applied to the pathetically small amount she’d managed to get down. She set down her fork, grateful she could finally quit rearranging what was left on her plate.
Matt started to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, then apparently thought better of it as she raised an eyebrow at him. Sighing, he took a cursory swipe of his face with his napkin, tossed the linen square on the table and idly began to swing one leg.
He was silent for what was for him an uncharacteristically long moment. “Colleen?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you feel okay?”
She glanced over at him in surprise. “Sure.”
“You’re not mad at me or something?”
“Of course not. Why would you think that?”
He stared with sudden fascination at a spot of Alfredo sauce he’d dripped on the tablecloth and gave a slight, one-shouldered shrug. “I dunno. It’s just…you’re sort of quiet. For you. And you didn’t eat very much, either. And earlier, when we were coming to get our food and then you stopped, you got a real funny look on your face. Kind of like Jordan Crenshaw did when I dared him to eat a dead frog.”
“Gosh.” Ignoring a concern that her earlier turmoil had been so apparent, she deliberately made her voice light. “And here I thought I was looking pretty good today.”
Matt’s head jerked up. “Oh, yeah! You do! For a girl. That is…” Flustered, he broke off. Heat stained his cheeks, but at least he was looking at her now, even if his expression was far too earnest. “It’s just…I mean…it’s just that usually you don’t act like other grownups.”
She’d certainly heard that before. Only normally it was from people her own age. “Ah.” What the heck. She might as well take the plunge. “In what way?”
“Well…” He cocked his head, considering. “You really listen to me when we talk. And you never make me feel like you’d rather be somewhere else, with somebody else.”
She blinked, gratified.
“And you don’t act like you’re smarter than me just because you’re old.”
That certainly put things in perspective; she swallowed a sudden bubble of laughter and did her best to look solemn. “Gee, maybe you’d better find me a cane. I wouldn’t want to topple over when I stand up and fall in the punch bowl and embarrass us both.”
For half a second the boy looked horrified. And then he realized she was kidding, and his eyes took on an impish gleam. “Naw. You’re not that old.” He did his best to match her deadpan delivery. “But if you were gonna fall down, we’re a lot closer to the wedding cake. Now, that’d be really cool.”
“Matthew!” Her protest was ruined by her sputter of laughter. “No wonder your mom says you’re a menace.”
He looked inordinately pleased. “Really? She said that?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Before she could add that her cousin Janice had then said how crazy she was about the little rascal, his gaze settled on something behind her and he straightened like a bird dog who’d spotted a covey of quail. “Hey, it’s Jeremy and Sean!” Like Matt, the two boys were distant cousins from Colleen’s mother’s side of the family and had recently become objects of Matt’s veneration by virtue of having birthdays and officially becoming teenagers. “Can I go say hi?”
“Of course.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice. He shot to his feet and disappeared almost before she gave her consent.
Fondly Colleen watched him go, relieved when the older boys welcomed him warmly. Looking away as a waiter approached, she declined an offer of champagne, taking a sip of her water, instead, as the young man quickly cleared away her and Matthew’s plates.
The reception really had turned out to be a lovely affair, she reflected. A few tables away her brother Joseph was involved in an intense conversation with Uncle Paul, while her younger sisters, Rita, Gina and Maria, stood clustered together near the buffet, hands gesturing and faces alight as they chatted with one another.
Out on the dance floor, Nick glided into view, his arms securely cradling his bride, Gail. Hands clasped, heads together, the two were engrossed in each other. Colleen felt a wash of pleasure at their obvious happiness. Before meeting Gail, Nick hadn’t had the easiest time when it came to love and romance.
A tendency that seemed to run in the family, she mused as she found herself searching the crowd for Gavin’s black hair and broad shoulders. Assuring herself the sudden hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach was relief rather than disappointment when he was nowhere to be seen, she brushed a crumb off the table and told herself firmly she’d played hooky long enough.
At the very least, she should go check on “the aunts”—the contingent of widowed, black-clad, elderly ladies all gathered together at one big table like a flock of crows. Or, if she really wanted to feel virtuous, she could always seek out her mother….
Quit that, Colleen. Swallowing a sigh—was she ever going to outgrow the irreverent streak that too often got her in trouble?—she pushed back her chair, stood, squared her shoulders and turned.
And found herself gazing straight into the unsmiling face of Gavin O’Sullivan.
It wasn’t fair. Twelve years, and she looked exactly the same, Gavin thought grimly. Dainty. Delicate. A doe-eyed waif with flawless skin and the hint of a dimple in one soft cheek.
The only thing different was her hair. Gone was the ebony sheaf that had once fallen in a silken tumble to her waist. In its place was a cropped, tousled cap that somehow made her neck seem more fragile, her straight little nose finer, her densely lashed blue eyes even bigger.
Not that he gave a rip. His sole reason for seeking her out was to get this encounter over with. He’d come to celebrate Nick’s wedding, and he was damned if he was going to spend his time worrying about inadvertently bumping into her. Better by far to take the direct route, where he called the shots. Just to make sure that she or anyone else who might recall they’d once had a thing for each other would be absolutely clear he was long over her.
He summoned the polite, impersonal smile that was his stock-in-trade in social settings. “Hello, Colleen. It’s been a long time.”
For a s
econd longer than was strictly polite her gaze remained riveted on his face. Then she seemed to catch herself and, as if recalling her manners, smiled and said, “Gavin. How nice to see you.”
He’d forgotten what an appealing voice she had. Soft, a little husky, with a warmth that wrapped gently around whomever she was addressing like a well-worn flannel blanket. Too bad it was merely part of her act.
“Does Nick know you’re here?” For an instant she sounded almost nervous, but then her voice evened out and he knew he must’ve imagined it. “Have you talked to him yet?”
What did she think? That he was still some ill-mannered inner-city kid who didn’t know how to behave at a fancy wedding? “Sure. I saw him when I went through the reception line.”
“Oh. He must be so pleased that you came.”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know about that. I do know I’ve enjoyed seeing him again.”
“Of course.” Although her pleasant expression didn’t alter, a shadow darkened her eyes, and he knew she’d heard the slight but deliberate emphasis he’d put on him.
He felt a flick of satisfaction.
In the next instant he asked himself what in hell he was doing. It had been years since their breakup, damn it. And while being dumped by Colleen had been hard at the time, it was nothing compared to some of the other things he’d endured in his life. Losing a girlfriend just wasn’t in the same category as being raised, if it could be called that, by an alcoholic single mother in one of Boston’s toughest neighborhoods. Or getting himself not just through high school but also through college. Or even having to learn about art and culture later in life because such “civilized” things had taken a back seat to survival when he’d been younger.
What was more, the intervening years had been good to him. He’d transformed himself from a dirt-poor charity case to a rich, respected, successful hotelier whose extensive holdings provided jobs for hundreds of people.