Sweet Silver Bells

Brief encounter…or forever love?

Then…

Being chosen to design luxury hotels in Charleston is a career coup for privileged Crystal Eaton. Meeting charismatic corporate attorney Joseph Cole-Wilson is an unexpected bonus. Until one passion-filled night in Joseph’s penthouse changes her life forever.

Now…

Haunted by sensual memories, Joseph can’t accept their short-lived liaison as a onetime fling. And when a chance encounter reunites him with the Florida beauty, the Cole heir vows she won’t get away a second time. Even after discovering Crystal’s secret, Joseph knows nothing can dim his desire. He’ll prove it with sweet words of love that could make this a Christmas to remember.

If she’ll just say yes…

She flashed a sexy moue. “I’d love to go out on a date with you.”

After slipping into his suit jacket, Joseph reached into the breast pocket and handed Crystal his cell phone. “I’m going to need your cell number so I won’t have to go through the hotel operator.”

Crystal took the iPhone and put in her number. She offered him a tentative smile, handing him back the phone. “Thank you for being a wonderful dinner guest.”

Raising her hands, Joseph kissed each of her fingers. “Good night, Crystal.”

Her smile widened. “Good night, Joseph.”

Crystal felt his loss within seconds of his releasing her hands. Proper etiquette stipulated she walk him to the door, yet her legs refused to follow the dictates of her brain. She didn’t know how long she stood there, waiting for the sound of the door opening and closing. When it didn’t come, she followed him. He stood at the door, his hand resting on the doorknob.

“Joseph?” His name came out in a shivery whisper.

Without warning he turned and approached her. Crystal didn’t have time to catch her breath when she found herself in his arms, his mouth on hers in an explosive kiss that stole the very breath from her lungs. Her arms came up in seemingly slow motion, circling around his neck, holding him fast.

ROCHELLE ALERS

has been hailed by readers and booksellers alike as one of today’s most prolific and popular African-American authors of romance and women’s fiction.

With more than seventy titles and nearly two million copies of her novels in print, Ms. Alers is a regular on bestseller lists, is frequently chosen by Black Expressions Book Club and has been the recipient of numerous awards, including the Emma Award, Vivian Stephens Award for Excellence in Romance Writing, the RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award and the Zora Neale Hurston Literary Award.

She is a member of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Inc., Iota Theta Zeta Chapter, and her interests include gourmet cooking, music, art and traveling.

A full-time writer, she lives in a charming hamlet on Long Island.

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Dear Reader,

Even before I sat down to plot Sweet Silver Bells I knew I wanted to link two members of my favorite fictional families—the Coles and the Eatons. But the question was who I would choose.

You were given brief glimpses of Crystal Eaton in Sweet Southern Nights and Joseph Cole-Wilson in Secret Agenda, and because both are Floridians I thought, “Why not join these two strangers from prominent Florida families who have more in common than either could have ever imagined?”

Career-driven Crystal finds herself completely enthralled with Joseph, who presents himself as the total package, but for her, the timing is all wrong. A family tragedy forces her to return to Florida, and again fate intervenes when she comes face-to-face with the man whom she will be inexorably linked at Christmas by a love that promises forever.

Read, love and live romance.

Rochelle Alers

www.RochelleAlers.org Roclers@aol.com

Sweet Silver Bells is dedicated to the readers who asked for more Coles and Eatons.

Honor the Lord with your wealth, with the first fruits of all your crops.

—Proverbs 3:9

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Dear Reader

Dedication

Bible Quote

Prologue

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

Epilogue

Copyright

Prologue

Reunion

“Attention, passengers,” the pilot’s voice echoed throughout the jet cabin, “this flight to Miami will terminate at Palm Beach International due to a security breach at our scheduled airport. All passengers will be rescheduled to other flights once flights are allowed to land and depart from Miami.”

The jet landed smoothly and Crystal Eaton and her baby daughter, Merry, made it into the terminal to find people standing around staring at the electronic boards. All flights to Miami were delayed indefinitely.

“Oh no,” she whispered under her breath. That meant she didn’t know when she would get home. Sitting and balancing Merry on her lap, she retrieved her cell phone. “Mother, I’m at the Palm Beach Airport. All flights going into Miami are delayed.”

“I know, darling. I just heard the news report.”

“I’m going to rent a car and drive down. I’ll call you again when I get into the city.”

“How’s Merry?”

Crystal smiled for the first time in hours. “She’s a real trouper. She hasn’t cried or fussed the whole time.”

“Drive carefully, Crystal. Please don’t make me worry about you and my grandbaby, too.”

“I will.” It wasn’t until she walked in the direction for car rentals that her mother’s plea resonated with her. She professed to worry about her daughter and granddaughter but also about her ex-husband, who’d been admitted to the hospital with chest pains. Several arteries had been found clogged, necessitating immediate heart surgery.

There were long lines at the rental car counters and Crystal set the car seat on the floor. She wanted to put Merry down but decided against it. Her daughter had just taken her first steps several days ago and she didn’t trust her not to fall and hurt herself on the marble floor.

The line moved slowly and Crystal wondered if taking a taxi would be a better choice.

She’d just moved out of the line when she went completely still. Walking into the terminal was the man she’d never expected to see again. She turned around, but it was too late.

He’d recognized her.

Closing her eyes, she whispered a silent prayer that he wouldn’t make a scene. A shiver snaked its way up her back as his moist breath swept over the nape of her neck.

“You’re a liar!” His accusation lashed at her like the stinging bite of a whip.

Crystal turned slowly to face the man who still had the power to make her heart beat a little too fast for her to breathe normally.

She watched Joseph as he stared at her little girl. Even if Crysal hadn’t changed, he had. His face was leaner, his cropped hair grayer, and she detected new tiny lines around his large, deep-set, intense eyes. It was as if there was no more boyishness left in Joseph Cole-Wilson.

“I didn’t lie to you,” she countered.

Grasping her upper arm, Joseph steered her away from the crowd to a spot where they couldn’t be overheard. “I asked you to let me know if you were pregnant, and you said you weren’t.”

When she tried extricating her arm, he tightened his grip. “I’m not going to stand here and debate with you. I have to get to Miami. My father had a heart attack and—”

“I’ll take you to Miami,” he volunteered, cutting her off.

Crystal shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. I’m taking a taxi.”

Joseph pushed his face within inches of hers. “Please don’t fight with me, Crystal. As soon as I call someone I’ll take you.” Reaching for his cell phone, he punched in a number. “Diego, I need Henri to come to the airport to pick up Zach. His flight is due in at any moment. I’m going to call and tell him. Thanks.” He tapped another number. “Hey, bro. I’m not going to be able to pick you up, but I have someone coming from ColeDiz who’ll meet you. I have a family emergency, but I’ll be in touch.”

Even though Crystal only heard one side of Joseph’s conversation, she knew it was futile to argue with him. He’d said that he had a family emergency. Well, he was wrong. Raleigh was her and Merry’s family, not his. He might have fathered her daughter, but legally he had no claim to her.

Joseph extended his arms. “I’ll carry her.” Crystal reluctantly let him take Merry.

The little girl reached out and patted Joseph’s clean-shaven jaw. “Dada,” she crooned, laughing and exhibiting a mouth filled with tiny white teeth as Joseph buried his face in her black curly hair.

“Yes, princess. I am Daddy.”

Crystal closed her eyes. Merry had a vocabulary of about twenty words, and Dada had been the first one; Crystal hadn’t exposed her daughter to many men, yet Merry hadn’t called any of them Dada.

Crystal followed Joseph out of the terminal to the parking lot, strangely relieved that she didn’t have to go through the ordeal alone.

Joseph set the car seat on the second row of seats in the Range Rover, then placed Merry in it and secured the harness while Crystal got in beside her. She was exhausted. Not physically but emotionally. She stared at the back of Joseph’s head when he got in behind the wheel and maneuvered out of the parking lot.

* * *

Joseph slipped on a pair of sunglasses as he followed the signs for the airport exit. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he noticed Crystal had closed her eyes. “What’s her name?”

“Meredith, but I call her Merry.”

“How old is she?”

“She turned one October tenth.”

He smiled. “An October baby like her mother.”

Although he wanted and needed answers, Joseph decided to wait. Crystal’s father’s health crisis was a lot more pressing than uncovering why she had decided to conceal the fact that he’d fathered a child. Fate had intervened, bringing them together, and he had no intention of letting Crystal walk out of his life again.

Chapter 1

Destiny

Crystal Eaton took a quick glance at the navigation screen on the Ford Escape. She was thirty-three miles from Charleston, South Carolina, less than half an hour from her destination, and if she hadn’t had to drive down to Miami earlier that morning, she would’ve arrived much sooner. As she unclenched her teeth, the lines of tension bracketing her mouth vanished.

Her mother had called crying hysterically as soon as Crystal had maneuvered out of the parking garage at her Fort Lauderdale condo. She hadn’t been able to understand a word her mother was saying, and in a panic she’d driven south instead of north.

It wasn’t the first time in her life Crystal wished she hadn’t been an only child. If Jasmine Eaton hadn’t been able to reach her, then she would have been forced to contact her son and/or other daughter whenever she had an emotional meltdown.

If it had been a medical emergency, Crystal would have postponed her plan to meet with the owner of several luxury hotels, but she then discovered the cause of her mother’s latest hissy fit. Jasmine’s current boyfriend had refused to take her with him on a business trip to Las Vegas, leading Jasmine to accuse him of cheating on her.

Biting her tongue and instead of telling Jasmine she was too old for adolescent histrionics, Crystal smiled, issuing her usual mantra, “Mother, this, too, shall pass.”

This was followed by another crying jag until Crystal reminded her mother that her eyes were swollen and her cheeks blotchy.

It was as if someone had flipped a switch when Jasmine raced to her bathroom to examine her face, declaring no man was worth sacrificing her beauty.

Crystal knew her own reluctance to marry was because of her parents’ inability to form lasting relationships. Her fifty-four-year-old father had been married four times and her mother, only a year younger than her ex-husband, had had so many dates with a steady parade of men coming and going that Crystal stopped counting.

However, Jasmine was quick to inform anyone who labeled her a serial dater that she was very discriminating when it came to sleeping with a man. Jasmine’s gratification came from being seen on the arm of a handsome gentleman, not sleeping with him.

Crystal’s cell rang and she glanced at the number on the dashboard. Activating the Bluetooth feature, she said, “Hey, Xavier.”

“Where are you, Criss?”

“I’m about forty minutes outside the city.”

“Selena and I expected you hours ago.”

She’d promised her cousin she would stop and spend some time with him, his wife and their toddler daughter. “I would’ve been here sooner if I didn’t have to drive to Miami and check on my mother. She just broke up with her latest male friend, and that always sends her into drama mode. I believe she liked this one more than she’s willing to admit.”

“Isn’t she a bit too old to have tantrums?” Xavier asked, chuckling softly.

Crystal rolled her eyes, although her cousin couldn’t see her. “Please, Xavier, don’t get me started. My mother should’ve become an actress instead of an art dealer.”

Xavier laughed again. “Your mother is drama personified.”

Crystal frowned. “I don’t know why I mentioned her, because talking about my mother’s antics always gives me a headache. It’s too late to stop by tonight,” she said, deftly changing the topic of conversation, “so I’m going directly to the hotel. I have meetings tomorrow and Friday, but I’m free this weekend.”

“Why don’t you come spend at least Saturday or Sunday with us?”

“That sounds wonderful. I’ll call to let you know when I’ll be there. See you soon.”

“We’ll be here,” Xavier said.

Tapping a button on the steering wheel, Crystal ended the call. Crystal smiled for the first time in hours. She was about to embark on a project she’d dreamt about since decorating her first dollhouse. But this project wasn’t about dollhouses but two historic landmark buildings the owner planned to turn into an inn and a bed-and-breakfast.

The original owners of the three-story, early-nineteenth-century structures had used them as their secondary residences whenever they relocated their families from the cotton, rice and indigo plantations built along the creeks and marshes in order to escape the swamp fevers so prevalent at the time during the intense summer heat.

She knew she’d taken a big step when she left her position with a prestigious Fort Lauderdale architectural and design firm to set up her own company—Eaton Interior and Design. She’d come to the realization she’d been overworked, overlooked for promotions, underpaid for her expertise, all the while being subtly sexually harassed by one of the partners. Rather than initiate a lawsuit against him and the firm, she’d decided it was time to leave.

Despite Jasmine’s occasional histrionics, Crystal had to thank her mother for giving her the encouragement she needed to strike out on her own. Jasmine might have been impetuous when it came to her relationships, but she was the complete opposite when buying and selling art. Jasmine revealed that she, too, was thirty when she’d sold her first painting, so it would stand to reason that her daughter would start up her own company at thirty.

Two years later Jasmine opened a thriving and exclusive art gallery in an upscale Miami neighborhood with a growing clientele that included celebrities who wanted to decorate the walls of their sprawling mansions with works of art.

Crystal didn’t have a shop—not yet—but she did have recommendations from several of her father’s clients and one from her mother. Not once had she harbored any guilt about using her parents’ name to further her career. It was the least they could do for emotionally abandoning her as a child. She’d found herself competing with her father’s wives for his attention, while her mother had never recovered from losing her husband, the man she considered the love of her life.

Crystal spent more time at her cousins’ house than she did her own. Levi, Jesse and Carson Eaton were more than cousins. They had become her surrogate brothers.

The lights of downtown Charleston came into view as she listened to the automated voice issuing directions, driving through cobblestone streets lined on both sides with elegant homes still festooned in Christmas lights and decorations. It was the second week in January and it was as if the residents were reluctant to let go of the holiday.

Maneuvering up to the hotel’s entrance, she slowed, coming to a complete stop in front of a valet wearing a white shirt, red bow tie, black vest and slacks.

“How long are you staying, ma’am?”

“I’ll be here for a couple of months.”

“Are you Ms. Eaton?” the young man asked.

She nodded. “Yes, I am.”

The valet opened the driver’s-side door. “I’ll park your truck and have someone bring in your luggage.” Reaching into the back pocket of his slacks, he removed a walkie-talkie. “I need a bellhop out front.”

Crystal reached for her handbag and the tote with her laptop and then slipped from behind the wheel. She managed to smother a moan. Her legs were stiff and her shoulders ached. She’d driven nearly six hundred miles, stopping in St. Augustine to refuel and order a fruit salad. The entire drive had taken her nearly twelve hours.

What she wanted now was a leisurely bath before climbing into bed to sleep undisturbed throughout the night.

She made her way into the lobby and over to the desk to check in, admiring its sophisticated opulence. Marble flooring, several glittering chandeliers and a massive glass-topped table in the center of the lobby cradled an enormous hand-painted ceramic vase filled with fresh flowers. Queen Anne chairs were positioned at round pedestal tables for guests to sit and relax.

A woman with flawless brown skin, neatly braided hair and an infectious smile greeted Crystal as she approached the front desk. “Welcome to the Beaumont House. How may I help you?”

“I’m Crystal Eaton,” she said, “and—”

“Oh, Ms. Eaton, we’ve been expecting you,” the woman said. “Your accommodations will be handled by concierge.” She picked up the telephone, speaking quietly into the mouthpiece.

In less than a minute, a tall man in a black tailored suit approached the desk. There was something about his bearing that reminded Crystal of her father. Raleigh Eaton’s good looks, refinement, charm, and legal and financial acumen had made him a very wealthy man and a magnet for women regardless of their age.

Two years ago he’d divorced his fourth wife, and his current fiancée was thirty-five, only five years older than Crystal. Wherein Raleigh might have been unable to maintain a successful marriage of any duration, he wasn’t so reckless as not to have had his prospective wives sign a prenuptial agreement. The exception had been his first wife. The alimony payments deposited directly into Jasmine’s bank account like clockwork afforded the mother of his only child, coupled with her successful art business, a very comfortable lifestyle.

The concierge extended his hand, while offering Crystal a friendly smile. He lowered his gaze rather than let her see the admiration in his gaze. Crystal Eaton was stunning. Her pixie-cut hairstyle, unblemished face, the color of polished mahogany, radiated good health, and her dark brown wide-set slanting eyes, pert nose and full, sensual mouth were enthralling.

The perfection of her body matched her face: tall, slender and curvy in a pair of fitted black jeans, matching pullover sweater and leather flats.

“Welcome, Ms. Eaton. I’m John Porter, your personal concierge. Mr. Beaumont has asked me to take care of all of your needs during your stay.”

Crystal took his hand, finding it as soft as her own.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Porter.”

John reluctantly withdrew his hand. “Mr. Beaumont has arranged for you to stay in the penthouse. You will have the privilege of twenty-four-hour room service that includes laundry, dry-cleaning, housekeeping and meals.” He angled his head, smiling. “All of which are gratis. The penthouse staff is aware they’re not to accept tips from you. Don’t look so alarmed, Ms. Eaton,” he said when Crystal’s gave him a stunned look, her delicate jaw dropping. “They are compensated far beyond what the other employees earn,” he added when her mouth closed.

She forced a smile she didn’t feel at that moment. “That’s good, because I wouldn’t want to take advantage of their services.”

John cupped her elbow, directing her to the bank of elevators, and stopped in front of one with a sign indicating floors 8-PH. “Mr. Beaumont treats all of his employees quite well. I’m going to give you two room card keys. The red one will permit you elevator access to your floor and the green to your apartment.”

He handed her an envelope with her name, punched the button and waited for the doors to open. Crystal walked into the car. He entered behind her and, reaching into the pocket of his suit jacket, removed a master key and inserted it into the PH slot. The doors closed, and the car rose silently.

When she agreed to the terms in the contract between Beaumont Hotels and Eaton Interior and Design in which the owner of the hotel chain would provide lodging for the duration of the project, Crystal had expected to occupy a suite, not a penthouse apartment. She knew Algernon Beaumont was anxious for her to decorate the two boutique hotels before spring and the influx of tourists to the Lowcountry, and because she wasn’t married, didn’t have a fiancé, boyfriend or children, Crystal was able to accept the commission that would take her away from home for weeks at a time.

The elevator doors opened and she stepped out into a carpeted hallway.

John remained in the elevator. “You’re in penthouse two, which is on the left,” he informed Crystal. “The bellhop will bring up your luggage. If you need anything, please dial fifteen and either I or someone from my staff will procure it for you.”

Crystal smiled at the very formal man. “Thank you. I doubt if I’ll need anything tonight.” All she wanted was a bath and a bed. Anything she did need would wait until the next day.

John nodded. “Good night, Ms. Eaton.”

“Good night, Mr. Porter.”

She walked the short distance to the door labeled PH 2, opening the envelope and taking out one of the card keys.

Crystal’s hand halted as she caught movement out the corner of her eye. She stole a glance at a tall, slender man dressed in a pair of cutoffs, a T-shirt and flip-flops closing the door to the other apartment as he walked toward the elevator. The contrast of the white shirt against his olive complexion was attention-grabbing. He was like a bronze statue come to life.