Thy Neighbor's Wife

Thy Neighbor’s Wife

Georgia Beers

Yellow Rose Books

Nederland, Texas

Copyright © 2003 by Georgia Beers

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,

including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and

retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

The characters, incidents and dialogue herein are fictional and any

resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely

coincidental.

ISBN 1-932300-15-5

First Printing 2003

9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Cover design by Donna Pawlowski

Published by:

Yellow Rose Books

PMB 210, 8691 9th Avenue

Port Arthur, Texas 77642-8025

Find us on the World Wide Web at

http://www.regalcrest.biz

Printed in the United States of America

Acknowledgments:

There are a handful of folks who have made this book better

because of their hard work and support...

Thank you to Stacy Harp for the sharp eyes, the patience, and the

ability to boost my ego right when it needs it the most.

Thank you to the staff of Yellow Rose and Regal Crest for making

both the editing process and the business end of my writing run

smoothly and painlessly. I'm a very lucky author to be associated

with such professionals.

Thank you to the small city of Canandaigua, New York, for being

such a beautiful and inspirational place. I did take a few liberties—

natives will recognize them—but all in all, I tried to keep it as true

to life on paper as I could. I hope I succeeded.

Lastly, thank you to Tonya Muir—wherever you are...

For Bonnie.

Always.

Chapter

One

“What do you think, honey?”

The excitement in Eric Wainwright’s voice was unmistakable to

his wife, Jennifer. She smiled at the little-boy expression on his

face, the twinkling in his brown eyes. It wasn’t terribly often that he

asked for her opinion on something he was looking to purchase, but

for some reason, he really wanted her to be as enamored with the

lake house as he was. It was important to him. He waited, studying

her.

Jennifer was completely taken with the house, but she didn’t

want to let him off the hook too soon, so she pretended to ponder,

wandering slowly around. She turned in a casual circle in the

expansive great room and then stopped to look out the floor-to-ceil-

ing windows that offered a stunning view of Canandaigua Lake.

The waves lapped gently at the shores of the yard, which was impec-

cably landscaped, the grass, a lush green nearly impossible to find

this early in the season.

Above her head were wood beams, accentuating the high ceil-

ing and drawing the eyes to the railing of the loft that overlooked

the great room. She’d been up there already and had been equally

impressed with the open design of the master and guest bedrooms,

accented in the same wood as the ceiling beams. Ideas for painting

and decorating were already bombarding her, colors and patterns

spinning in her mind.

She knew that, whether or not she liked the place, Eric did and

that they’d probably end up buying it anyway, but she was pleased

he seemed so anxious for her opinion. She smiled at him again.

“I think it’s beautiful,” she pronounced.

Eric let out an audible sigh of relief and hugged her, catching

her off guard. He turned to Jake, his cousin and their real estate

agent, and grinned. “She thinks it’s beautiful.”

“Of course she does,” Jake replied easily. “Let’s take care of

the paperwork, shall we?”

As the two men headed for the kitchen where they could use

2 Georgia Beers

the counter space to write on, Jennifer slid open the sliding glass

doors and stepped out onto the massive back deck. It was empty, so

she was sure that was why it seemed so huge. The house had been

empty for over a week, following the death of the elderly previous

owner. She rested her palms on the railing, closing her eyes and tak-

ing a lung full of fresh lake air, so different from that of the city.

So this is going to be our summer home. Not bad. Not bad at

all.

Eric had wanted a house on the water for ages and grudgingly

admitted to knowing that it was more a status symbol than anything

else for him. It would be added to the list of material things he’d

acquired, all before the age of thirty: the Mercedes, the boat, the

membership at Oak Hill, the most exclusive golf club in the area, a

huge house in the heart of Pittsford, one of the wealthiest suburbs

of Rochester, New York.

She despised the whole money game. She’d spent all twenty-

nine of her years right in the middle of it, but she hated being

wealthy. She also knew how snobbish that sounded and she didn’t

run around telling people how much she abhorred being rich, but it

was the truth. The role of high society wife was not one that she

treasured, nor was she good at it. She was the first to say so. Her

mother, as well as Eric’s mother, would be in line right behind her.

Still, the house was gorgeous and she already felt a sense of

peace simply standing on the deck. She also reluctantly admitted to

herself that she happily anticipated being there alone quite often.

Eric’s offices were in the city—about forty-five minutes from

Canandaigua – and lately he’d been helping set up the new division

in Buffalo—a good two hours away. It would be very inconvenient

for him to make such a commute every day during the summer,

given the late hours he tended to work, and he would most likely

stay at the Pittsford house more often than not. The idea of spend-

ing time on the lakeshore alone was very appealing to Jennifer; she

could feel the calm and solitude calling to her on the breeze coming

off the shore.

She turned to look up at the house. The exterior was a faded

gray, a finish that made it appear more weathered than it actually

was. Looking back to the water, she sighed, let the sudden relax-

ation she felt seep into her very being, and admired the sunset over

the water. She heard children laughing in the distance; a dog

barked.

She’d never had a dog growing up, even though she’d always

wanted one. Her mother had had a million reasons why she

wouldn’t allow it. Dogs were messy. Dogs were smelly. Dogs were

silly, shedding creatures that didn’t belong in a house full of nice

things like theirs. Something was bound to get broken or stained

Thy Neighbor’s Wife 3

or…she’d go on and on and on until her daughter would stop her

begging simply to get the woman to shut up. Jennifer could hear her

mother’s voice ringing clearly in her head as if it had happened yes-

terday. She still got a headache any time she thought about Dina

Remington’s No Pets and Here’s Why speech.

Despite the shrillness and insistence of her mother, Jennifer’s

desire for a dog had never gone away. She supposed that childhood

want was what made her smile at the little white pooch that she

noticed running through her new back yard. He was adorable, all

furry with pointy ears, short, stubby legs, and big expressive brown

eyes. He was clearly in his glory, running free in the spring grass.

Part of an unraveled rope flew unconstrained behind him, clasped

to his plaid collar but nothing else. He stopped to pee every few

feet, lifting a short back leg with relish, as if his mission in life was

to mark everything in sight. Jennifer chuckled at his antics.

The chuckling died swiftly as she had a sickening vision of a

car screeching to a halt to avoid him. She couldn’t bear the thought

of his broken little body, should he find his way up to the main

road, so she headed down into the large yard, squatted, and called

to him, clapping her hands and using a playful voice.

“Come here, buddy. Come on. Come here.”

He stopped his romping when he heard her and cocked his

head as if listening intently. His little black lips were visible on his

white-furred face and Jennifer was sure he was grinning at her.

“Yeah, you.” She giggled. “Come here.”

Much to her surprise, he trotted right over to her, his tail point-

ing straight up and wagging slightly as he sniffed the hand she held

out to him. After a minute or two, he decided she was safe and

allowed her to scratch his head. Soon, she was able to grasp his col-

lar, tug him a little closer, and picked him up in her arms to get a

closer look at him.

He immediately set to bathing her face with his pink tongue.

He was surprisingly gentle, like a mother with a pup, and it made

her smile.

“Oh, I’m dirty, am I? Well, thanks so much for taking care of

that.”

She was relieved to see that he had an ID tag hanging from his

collar. She had picked up enough strays in her life and she was

always happy when she had a number to call to return the animal to

its owner. A pet without an ID tag was a sign of a glaringly irre-

sponsible owner in her book.

This tag said simply Kinsey and had a local phone number.

“Is Kinsey your name or is that your mommy? Hmm?” He

cocked his head as if seriously contemplating the question, but

offered her no answer. “Well, what do you say we find out?”

4 Georgia Beers

She carried him into the house. She could hear Eric and Jake

discussing the details of the purchase of the house, so she decided

not to interrupt. Instead, she fished her cell phone out of her shoul-

der bag and dialed the number on the tag. It was picked up after

three rings.

“Hello?” The voice was female, deep and smooth.

“Um, hi. My name is Jennifer Wainwright and I was just won-

dering if you or somebody there had, by any chance, lost a dog.”

“Lost a—hang on a sec…” Jennifer heard a door slide open,

then a muffled curse. The woman came back on the line. “A little

white one?” she asked anxiously.

“Yep. His tag says Kinsey. Is that you or him?”

“That’s him, the little stinker. I can’t believe he broke that

rope. I swear he’s an escape artist!”

“He’s a sweetie.” She giggled as Kinsey licked her ear.

“Oh, he’s very smooth with the ladies, that’s for sure.” The

woman chuckled warmly. “Listen, I can’t thank you enough for

grabbing him. Where are you? I’ll come right over and get him out

of your hair.”

“Well, let’s see.” Jennifer stepped back out onto the deck to

scrutinize her surroundings, which were completely new to her.

“I’m on the lake. My house is new…I mean, I don’t even live here

yet, so I’m not exactly sure how to tell you where I am. Um, I know

we’re on East Lake Road. I think it might be number seventeen.”

She felt like a complete dolt, unable to give the voice on the phone

a solid address, and she rolled her eyes at herself.

“Number seventeen?” the voice said with surprise. Jennifer

could hear the door slide open again.

“I think so. Do you know where that is?”

The woman laughed. “I believe I do. Take a look to your

right.”

Jennifer furrowed her brows in confusion, then looked to her

right. Not fifty yards away, a dark-haired woman stood on the deck

next door, a cordless phone pressed to her ear. She waved.

“Found you.”

Jennifer laughed as she snapped the cell phone shut, set it on

the railing of the deck, and walked toward her new neighbor, Kin-

sey still in her arms.

It was impossible not to notice how attractive the woman was.

God, I hope Eric can keep himself from drooling on her, she

thought with a smile. Her dark hair was pulled back into a loose

ponytail, her bangs ruffling in the lake breeze. She had soft, dark

eyes framed by almost-black lashes and brows, and an easy smile

played at the corners of her mouth. She was dressed casually in

jeans and a black, v-neck t-shirt.

Thy Neighbor’s Wife 5

How come my jeans don’t fit me that well? Jennifer’s brain

whined enviously. It’s so unfair.

The woman was tall, several inches above Jennifer’s five foot

four inch frame. Her facial structure was near perfect, as though