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A Bride's Tangled Vows
Dani Wade






“Aiden?”

The sudden silence must have become too much for her, because Christina moved forward as if to continue down the stairs.

The polite thing would have been to step aside, but the ache to feel that body against his once more kept him perversely still. She slowed within a hair’s breadth, tension mounting once more. “Aiden?”

“So you’re really willing to do this?” he asked, almost holding his breath as he awaited her answer. What delicious torture to spend the next year with this woman and keep his hands to himself. Could he? This was a huge mistake.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I can, you know, share a bed with you.”

The way her voice trailed off told him how very uncomfortable she was, which only awakened images of making her very comfortable in a bed for two.

Maybe he could find a way to make this work.

* * *

A Bride’s Tangled Vows is part of the Mill Town Millionaires series.


A Bride’s

Tangled Vows

Dani Wade






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


DANI WADE astonished her local librarians as a teenager when she carried home ten books every week—and actually read them all. Now she writes her own characters, who clamor for attention in the midst of the chaos that is her life. Residing in the southern United States with a husband, two kids, two dogs and one grumpy cat, she stays busy until she can closet herself away with her characters once more.


To the late Beverly Barton—you gave freely of your encouragement and advice the first time you read this story, and told me one day my time would come. Now that it’s here, I wish I could share it with you. But I know your gorgeous smile is lighting up heaven. I look forward to seeing you again …


Contents

Cover (#ua6e4fb63-757e-5a56-9af1-eafb24c74e8e)

Introduction (#u9030d097-8814-5c5b-aa6e-e2b052253d6f)

Title Page (#u9aff99f1-ff1a-5ccc-be8b-3d65bf9cfdc2)

About the Author (#ued816f26-2dbe-563f-a851-cb7c53c70e87)

Dedication (#u90428377-789a-5d27-85a0-cc1d97c01d58)

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

Extract

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


One (#u4324306c-d791-5af5-9bec-8f416cd1177d)

Aiden Blackstone suppressed a shiver that had nothing to do with the afternoon thunderstorm raging all around him. For a moment, he remained immobile, staring at the elaborate scrolls carved into the heavy oak door before him. A door he’d promised himself he’d never pass through again—at least, not while his grandfather was alive.

I should have come back here, Mother, only to see you.

But he’d sworn never to let himself be locked inside the walls of Blackstone Manor again. He’d thought he had all the time he would need to make his absence up to his mother. In his youthful ignorance, he hadn’t realized everything he’d be giving up to uphold his vow. Now he was back to honor another vow—a promise to see that his mother was taken care of.

The thought had his stomach roiling. Shaking it off, he reached for the old-fashioned iron knocker shaped like a bear’s head. The cab had already left. On a day plagued by steamy, ferocious southern thunderstorms, he certainly wouldn’t be walking the ten miles back to Black Hills, no matter how much he dreaded this visit. His nausea eased as he reminded himself that he wouldn’t be here for long—only as long as necessary.

Knocking again, he listened intently for footsteps on the other side of the door. It wasn’t really home if you had to wait for someone to answer. He’d walked away with the surety that only comes with untried youth. Now he returned a different man, a success on his own terms. He just wouldn’t have the satisfaction of rubbing his grandfather’s nose in it.

Because James Blackstone was dead.

The knob rattled, then the door swung inward with a deep creak. A tall man, his posture still strong despite the gray hair disappearing from his head, blinked several times as if not sure his aging eyes were trustworthy. Though he’d left his childhood home on his eighteenth birthday, Aiden recognized Nolen, the family butler.

“Ah, Master Aiden, we’ve been expecting you,” the older man said.

“Thank you,” Aiden returned with polite sincerity, stepping closer to look into the butler’s faded blue eyes. Lightning cracked nearby and thunder almost immediately boomed with wall-rattling force, the storm a reflection of the upheaval deep in Aiden’s core.

Still studying his face, the older man opened the door wide enough for Aiden and his luggage. “Of course,” Nolen said, shutting out the pouring rain behind them. “It’s been a long time, Master Aiden.”

Aiden searched the other man’s voice for condemnation, but found none. “Please leave your luggage here. I’ll take it up once Marie has your room ready,” Nolen instructed.

So the same housekeeper—the one who’d baked cookies for him and his brothers while they were grieving the loss of their father—was still here, too. They said nothing ever changed in small towns. They were right.

Aiden swept a quick glance around the open foyer, finding it the same as when he’d left, too. The only anomaly was an absent portrait that captured a long-ago moment in time—his parents, himself at about fifteen and his younger twin brothers about a year before his father’s death.

Setting down his duffel and laptop case and shaking off the last drops of rain, he followed Nolen’s silent steps through the shadowy breezeway at the center of the house. The gallery, his mother had always called this space that opened around the central staircase. It granted visitors an unobstructed view of the elaborate rails and landings of the two upper floors. Before air-conditioning, the space had allowed a breeze through the house on hot, humid, South Carolina afternoons. Today the sounds of his steps echoed off the walls as if the place were empty, abandoned.

But his mother was somewhere. Still in her old rooms, probably. Aiden didn’t want to think of her, of how helpless her condition rendered her. And him. It had been so long since he’d last heard her voice on the phone, right before her stroke two years ago. After the car accident made travel difficult for her, Aiden’s mother had called him once a week—always when James left the house. The last time he’d seen Blackstone Manor’s phone number on his caller ID, it had been his brother calling to tell him their mother had suffered a stroke, brought on by complications from her paralysis. Then silence ever since.

To Aiden’s surprise, Nolen went directly to the stairway, oak banister gleaming even in the dim light as if it had just been polished. Most formal meetings in the house were held in his grandfather’s study, where Aiden had assumed he’d be meeting with the lawyer. He’d just as soon get down to business.

“Did the lawyer give up on my arrival?” Aiden asked, curious about why he was being shown to his room first.

“I was told to bring you upstairs,” Nolen replied, not even glancing back. Did he view the prodigal son with suspicion, an unknown entity who would change life as Nolen had lived it for over forty years?

Damn straight. He had every intention of using his grandfather’s money to move his mother closer to her sons and provide her with the best care for her condition, much better than he could give her personally. He’d sell off everything, then hightail it back to his business in New York City. He had nothing more than a hard-won career waiting for him there, but at least it was something he’d built on his own. He wanted nothing to do with Blackstone Manor or the memories hidden within its walls.

Having followed blindly, he abruptly noticed Nolen’s direction. Uneasiness stirred low in Aiden’s gut. His and his brothers’ old rooms took up the third floor. To his knowledge—dated though it was—only two sets of rooms occupied the second floor: his mother’s and his grandfather’s suites. Neither of which was he ready to visit. His mother’s—after he’d had time to prepare himself. His grandfather’s—never.

The lawyer, Canton, had said James died last night. Aiden had been focused on packing and getting here since then. He’d address what the future held after talking with Canton.

He directed his question to Nolen’s back as they neared the double doors to his grandfather’s suite, his tone emerging huskier than he would have liked. “Nolen, what’s going on?”

But the other man didn’t reply; he just took the last few steps to the doors, then twisted the knob and stepped back. “Mr. Canton is inside, Master Aiden.”

The words were so familiar, yet somehow not. Aiden drew a deep breath, his jaw tightening at the repeated use of Nolen’s childhood designation for him.

But it beat being called Master Blackstone. They shouldn’t even have the hated last name, but his mother had given in to old James’s demands. The Blackstone name had to survive, even if his grandfather could only throw girls. So he’d insisted his only daughter give the name to her own sons, shutting out any legacy his father might have wanted.

Aiden shook his head, then pushed through the doorway with a brief nod. He stepped into the room, warm despite the spring chill of the storm raging outside. His eyes strayed to the huge four-poster bed draped in heavy purple velvet.

His whole body recoiled. Watching him from the bed was his grandfather. His dead grandfather.

The rest of the room disappeared, along with the storm pounding against the windows. He could only stare at the man he’d been told had “passed on.” Yet there he was, sitting up in bed, sizing up the adult Aiden with eyes piercing despite his age.

His body was thinner, frailer than Aiden remembered, but no one would mistake his grandfather for dead. The forceful spirit within the body was too potent to miss. Aiden instinctively focused on his adversary—the best defense was a strong offense. That strategy had kept him alive when he was young and broke; it did the same now that he was older and wealthier than he’d ever imagined he’d be when he’d walked away from Blackstone Manor.

“I knew you were a tough old bird, James, but I didn’t think even you could rise from the dead,” Aiden said.

To his surprise, his grandfather cracked a weak smile. “You always were a chip off the old block.”

Aiden suppressed his resentment at the cliché and added a new piece of knowledge to his arsenal. James might not be dead, but his voice wavered, scratchy as if forced from a closed throat. Coupled with the milky paleness of his grandfather’s once-bronze skin, Aiden could only imagine something serious must have occurred. Why wasn’t he in the hospital?

Not that Aiden would have rushed home to provide comfort, even if he’d known his grandfather was sick. When he’d vowed that he wouldn’t set foot in Blackstone Manor until his grandfather was dead, he’d meant it.

Something the old man knew only too well.

Anger blurred Aiden’s surroundings for a moment. He stilled his body, then his brain, with slow, even breaths. His tunnel vision suddenly expanded to take in the woman who approached the bed with a glass of water. James frowned at her, obviously irritated at the interruption.

“You need this,” she said, her voice soft, yet insistent.

Something about that sound threatened to temper Aiden’s reaction. Wavy hair, the color of pecans toasted to perfection, settled in a luxuriant wave to the middle of her back. The thick waves framed classic, elegant features and movie-star creamy skin that added a beauty to the sickroom like a rose in a graveyard. Bright blue-colored scrubs outlined a slender body with curves in all the right places—not that he should be noticing at the moment.

Just as he tried to pull his gaze away, one perfectly arched brow lifted. She stared James down, her hand opening to reveal two white capsules. That’s when it hit him.

“Invader?”

He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until she stiffened.

James glanced between the two of them. “You remember Christina, I see.”

Only too well. And from her ramrod-straight back he gathered she remembered his little nickname for her. That stubborn I will get my way look brought it all back. She used to look at him that very same way when they were teenagers, after he’d brushed her off like an annoying mosquito, dismissed her without a care for her feelings. Just a pesky little kid always hanging around, begging his family for attention. Until that last time. The time he’d taunted her for trying to horn in on a family that didn’t want her. Her tears had imprinted on his conscience, permanently.

“Aiden,” she acknowledged him with a cool nod. Then she turned her attention back to James. “Take these, please.”

She might look elegant and serene, but Aiden could see the steel beneath the silk from across the room. Was there sexy under there, too? Nope, not gonna think about it. His strict, one-night stand policy meant no strings, and that woman had hearth and home written all over her. He wouldn’t be here long enough to find out anything...about anybody.

With a low grumble, James took the pills from her hand and chased them down with the water. “Happy now?”

His attitude didn’t faze her. “Yes, thank you.” Her smile only hinted that she was patronizing him. Her presence as a nurse piqued Aiden’s curiosity.

His gaze lingered on her retreat to the far window, the rain outside a gray backdrop to her scrubs, before returning to the bed that dominated the room. His voice deepened to a growl. “What do you want?”

One corner of his grandfather’s mouth lifted slightly, then fell as if his strength had drained away in a rush. “Straight to the point. I’ve always liked that in you, boy.” His words slurred. “You’re right. Might as well get on with it.”

He straightened a bit in the bed. “I had a heart attack. Serious, but I’m not dead yet. Still, this little episode—”

“Little!” Christina exclaimed.

James ignored her outburst. “—has warned me it’s time to get my affairs in order. Secure the future of the Blackstone legacy.”

He nodded toward the suit standing nearby. “John Canton—my lawyer.”

Aiden gave the man’s shifting stance a good once-over. Ah, the man behind the phone call. “He must pay you well if you’re willing to lie about life and death.”

“He merely indulged me under the circumstances,” James answered for Canton, displaying his usual unrepentant attitude. Whatever it takes to get the job done. The words James had repeated so often in Aiden’s presence replayed through his mind.

“You’re needed at home, Aiden,” his grandfather said. “It’s your responsibility to be here, to take care of the family when I die.”

“Again?” Aiden couldn’t help saying.

Once more his grandfather’s lips lifted in a weak semblance of the smirk Aiden remembered too well. “Sooner than I like to think. Canton—”

Aiden frowned as his grandfather’s head eased back against the pillows, as if he simply didn’t have the energy to keep up his diabolical power-monger role anymore.

“As your grandfather told you, I’m his lawyer,” Canton said as he reached out to shake Aiden’s hand, his grip forceful, perhaps overcompensating for his thin frame. “I’ve been handling your grandfather’s affairs for about five years now.”

“You have my condolences,” Aiden said.

Canton paused, blinking behind his glasses at Aiden’s droll tone.

James lifted his head, irritation adding to the strain on his lined face. “There are things that need to be taken care of, Aiden. Soon.”

His own anger rushed to replace numb curiosity. “You mean, you’re going to arrange everything so it will continue just the way you want it.”

This time James managed to jerk forward in a shadow of his favorite stance: that of looming over the unsuspecting victim. “I’ve run this family for over fifty years. I know what’s best. Not some slacker who runs away at the first hint of responsibility. Your mother—”

He fell back with a gasp, shaking as his eyes closed.

“Christina,” Canton said, his sharp tone echoing in the room.

Christina crossed to the bed and checked James’s pulse on the underside of his fragile wrist. Aiden noticed the tremble of her fingers with their blunt-cut nails. So she wasn’t indifferent. Did she actually care for the old buzzard? Somehow he couldn’t imagine it. Then she held James’s head while he swallowed some more water. Her abundant hair swung forward to hide her features, but her movements were efficient and sure.

Despite wanting to remain unmoved, Aiden’s heart sped up. “You should be in a hospital,” he said.

“They couldn’t make him stay once your grandfather refused further treatments. He said if he was going to die, he would die at Blackstone Manor,” Canton said. “Christina was already in residence and could follow the doctor’s orders....”

His grandfather breathed deeply, then rested back against the pillows, his mouth drawn, eyes closed.

“Can you?” Aiden asked her.

She glanced up, treating him to another glimpse of creamy, flawless skin and chocolate eyes flickering with worry.

“Of course,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “Mr. Blackstone isn’t going to die. But he will need significant recovery time. I’d prefer him to stay in the hospital for a bit longer, but...” Her shrug said what can you do when a person’s crazy?

Something about her rubbed Aiden wrong. She didn’t belong in this room or with these people. Her beauty and grace shouldn’t be sullied by his grandfather’s villainous legacy. But that calm, professional facade masked her feelings in this situation. Was she just here for the job? Or another reason? Once more, Aiden felt jealous of her, wishing he could master his own emotions so completely.

But he was out of practice in dealing with the old man.

This time, Christina retreated to the shadows beyond the abundant purple bed curtains. Close, but not hovering. Though keenly aware of her presence, Aiden could barely make out her form as she leaned against the wall with her arms wrapped around her waist. It unsettled him, distracted him. Right now, he needed all his focus on the battle he sensed was coming.

“Your grandfather is concerned for the mill—” Canton said.

“I don’t give a damn what happens to that place. Tear it down. Burn it, for all I care.”

His grandfather’s jaw tightened, but he made no attempt to defend the business where he’d poured what little humanity he possessed, completely ignoring the needs of his family. The emotional needs, at least.

“And the town?” Canton asked. “You don’t care what happens to the people working in Blackstone Mills? Generations of townspeople, your mother’s friends, kids you went to school with, Marie’s nieces and nephews?”

Aiden clamped his jaw tight. He didn’t want to get involved, but as the lawyer spoke, faces flashed through his mind’s eye. The mill had stood for centuries, starting out as a simple cotton gin. Last Aiden had heard, it was a leading manufacturer in cotton products, specializing in high-end linens. James might be a bastard, but his insistence on quality had kept the company viable in a shaky economy. Aiden jammed a rough hand through his damp hair, probably making the spiky top stand on end.

Without warning, he felt a familiar surge of rebellion. “I don’t want to take over. I’ve never wanted to.” He strode across the plush carpet to stare out the window into the storm-shadowed distance. Tension tightened the muscles along the back of his neck and skull. Familial responsibility wasn’t his thing—anymore. He’d handed that job over to his brothers a long time ago.

Aiden realized he was shifting minutely from one foot to the other. Creeping in underneath the turbulence was a constant awareness of Christina’s presence, like a sizzle under his skin, loosening his control over his other emotions inch by inch. She drew him, kept part of his attention even when he was talking to the others. How had she come to be here? How long had she been here? Had she ever found a place to belong? The heightened emotion increased the tension in his neck. A dull headache started to form.

“You knew something like this was coming, considering your age—” Aiden gestured back toward the bed “—you should have sold. Or turned the business over to someone else. One of my brothers.”

“It isn’t their duty,” James insisted. “As firstborn, it’s yours—and way past time you learned your place.”

As if he could sense the rage starting to boil deep inside Aiden, Canton stepped in. “Mr. Blackstone wants the mill to remain a family institution that will continue to provide jobs and a center for the town. The only potential buyers we have want to tear it down and sell off the land.”

Aiden latched on to the family institution part. “Ah, the lasting name of Blackstone. Planned a monument yet?”

A weary yet insistent voice drifted from the bed. “I will do what needs to be done. And so will you.”

“How will you manage that? I walked out that door once. I’m more than happy to do it again.”

“Really? Do you think that’s the best thing for your mother?” James went on as if Aiden hadn’t spoken. “I’ve worked my entire life to build on the hard work of my own father. I will not let my life’s work disappear because you won’t do your duty. You will return where you belong. I’ll see to that.”

Aiden used his hand to squeeze away the tightness in his neck. “Oh, no. I’m not buying into that song and dance. As far as I’m concerned, this family line should die out. If the Blackstone name disappears, all the better.”

“I knew you’d feel that way,” his grandfather said with a long-suffering sigh. “That’s why I’m prepared to make it worth your while.”

* * *

Christina listened to the men spar with one another as if from a distance. Shock cocooned her inside her own bubble of fear.

Aiden’s gaze tracked the lawyer’s movements as he spoke, but Christina’s remained focused on Aiden. The impenetrable mask of rebellion and pride that shielded any softer emotions. The breadth of his shoulders. The ripple of muscles in his chest and forearms, reminding her of his strength, his dominance.

Could a man that strong prevail over someone with James’s history of cunning maneuvers, both business and personal?

“Why don’t you just lay it out for me,” Aiden said, his voice curt, commanding the immense space of the master suite. A shiver worked its way down Christina’s spine. “The condensed version.”

This time, Canton didn’t look to James for permission. Proving he learned quickly, he cleared his throat and continued.

“Your grandfather set up legal documents covering all the angles,” he said, pulling a fat pack of papers from his briefcase. “It essentially hands you the rights to the mill and Blackstone Manor.”

“I told you,” Aiden said. “I don’t want it. Sell it.”

Christina’s throat closed in sympathy and fear.

“We can,” Canton said. “The interested buyer is a major competitor, who will shut it down and sell it piece by piece. Including the land Mill Row is built on. And every last one of the people living in those fifty houses will be turned out so their homes can be torn down.”

James joined in with relish. “The money from the sale will make a splendid law library at the university. Not the legacy I’d planned,” he said with a shrug. “But it’ll do.”

Canton paused, but James wasn’t one for niceties. “Go on,” he insisted.

Canton hesitated a moment more, which surprised Christina. She hadn’t cared for the weaselly man from the moment she’d first laid eyes on him, and his kowtowing to James had only reinforced her first impressions. For him to resist the old man—even in a small way—was new. Maybe having to face the person whose life he was ruining awakened a small bit of conscience.

“If you choose not to take over, Mr. Blackstone will exercise his power of attorney over his daughter to place her in the county care facility. Immediately.”

A cry lodged in Christina’s throat before it escaped as she envisioned the chaos this would unleash, the disruption and danger to Lily, Aiden’s mother. She’d cared for Lily for five years, from the moment Christina had received her nursing degree. But Lily had been a second mother to her long before that, the type of mother she’d never had. The last thing she’d allow to happen would be handing Lily over for substandard care.

Aiden’s intense gaze swiveled to search the dark recess where she stood. The shadows comforted her, helped her separate from the confrontation playing out before her. But that intense gaze pulled her forcibly into the present. His brows drew together in concern, the only emotion to soften him so far. She could literally feel every time his gaze zeroed in on her—a mixture of nerves and a physical reaction she’d never experienced before today.

But then his eyes narrowed on his grandfather, his face hardening once more. “What would happen to Mother there?”

James smiled, as his hateful words emerged from taunting lips. “Christina, I believe you’ve been to the county care facility, haven’t you? During your schooling, wasn’t it? Tell Aiden about it.”

Christina winced as she imagined what Aiden must be thinking. Only someone as manipulative and egocentric as James could determine that this scenario—disowning his own invalid daughter—was the best way to preserve his little kingdom. Her voice emerged rusty and strained. “It’s gotten an inferior rating for as many years as I’ve been a nurse, and it’s had regular complaints brought against it for neglect...but very little has been done because it’s the only place here that will take in charity cases for the elderly or disabled.”

“How do you know I don’t have enough money to take away that option?” Aiden asked, a touch of his grandfather’s arrogance bleeding onto that handsome face.

Canton replied. “You can try, but with power of attorney, your grandfather has the final say.”

“We’ll just go to court and get it transferred to one of my brothers.”

But not himself, Christina noted.

“You can, and I can’t stop you,” James said. “But how long do you think that case will take? Months? A year? Will your mother have that long...in that environment?”

“You’d do that to her, your own daughter?” Aiden asked James.

Having watched him since she was a kid, instinctively knowing he was even more dangerous than her own family but drawn inexplicably by Lily’s love and concern, Christina fully acknowledged what James was capable of, the lack of compassion he felt for others. He’d turn every one of them out without one iota of guilt, might even enjoy it if he was alive to see it happen.

She rubbed trembling, sweaty palms against her thighs. Would Lily survive the impersonal, substandard care at that facility? For how long? Although Lily was in a coma, Christina firmly believed she was at times aware of her surroundings. The last time they’d moved Lily to the private hospital for some necessary tests, she’d gotten agitated, heartbeat racing, then ended up catching a virus from hospital germs. How long could she be exposed to the lower standards at the county facility without being infected with something deadly?

As numbness gave way to fiery pain, Christina stumbled forward. “Of course he would.”

She didn’t mean for the bitterness or desperation to bleed into her voice. The fire that started to smolder in Aiden’s almost-black eyes sent a shiver over her, though he never looked her way.

“You son of a bitch,” he said, spearing James with a glare. “Your own daughter—no more than a pawn in your little game.”

Christina’s heart pounded as fear battled awareness in her blood. This man, and the fierceness of his anger, mesmerized her. She instinctively knew he could introduce a whole new element of danger to this volatile situation.

James punched the bed with a weak fist. “This isn’t a game. My legacy, the mill, this town, must continue or all will be for nothing. Better two people pay the price than the whole town.”

Aiden frowned, his body going still. “Two of us?”

Canton raised his hand, drawing attention his way. “There’s an additional condition to this deal. You can accept all or nothing.”

Dragging a hand through his hair once more, Aiden moved away, stopping by the window to stare out at the heavy rain. Lightning flashed, outlining his strong shoulders and stiff posture.

Canton cleared his throat. “You must marry and reside in Blackstone Manor for one year. Only then will your grandfather release you from the bargain, or release your inheritance to you, if he has passed on.”

Aiden drew a deep, careful breath into his lungs, but one look at his grandfather seemed to crack his control. Words burst from between those tightened lips. “No. Absolutely not. You can’t do that.”

James’s body jerked, his labored breathing rasping his voice. “I can do whatever I want, boy. The fact that you haven’t visited your own mother in ten years means no judge will have sympathy for you if you try to get custody.” His labored breathing grew louder. “You’d do well to keep your temper under control. Remember the consequences the last time you crossed me.”

Christina winced. She’d seen more than one instance of James’s consequences—they hadn’t been pretty. Lily had told her Aiden’s continued rebellion had cost him access to his mother, and eventually cost Lily her health.

“Why me?” Aiden asked. “Why not one of the twins?”

James met the question with a cruel twist of his lips. “Because it’s you I want. A chip off the old block should be just stubborn enough to lead a whole new generation where I want it to go.”

The cold shock was wearing off now, penetrated by sharp streaks of fear. Nolen, Marie and Lily—the other residents of Blackstone Manor—weren’t technically Christina’s relatives. Not blood-related, at least. But they were the closest she’d come in her lifetime to being surrounded by people who cared about her. She wasn’t about to see them scattered to the winds, destroyed by James’s sick game of king of the world.

Besides, she owed this family, and the intense, dark-eyed man before her. Most of all, she owed Lily. Her debt was bigger than Lily had ever acknowledged or accepted Christina’s apologies for. If being used as a pawn would both settle her debt and protect those she’d come to love, then she’d do it. Christina’s family had taught her one lesson in her twenty-six years: how to make herself useful.

The lawyer stepped up to the plate. “Everything is set up in the paperwork. You either marry and keep the mill viable, or Ms. Blackstone will be moved immediately.”

A strained cackle had Aiden glancing at his grandfather. “Take it or leave it,” James rasped.

Christina barely detected the subtle slump of defeat in Aiden’s shoulders. “And just where am I supposed to find a paragon willing to sacrifice herself for the cause?”

“I’d think you’d be pretty good at hunting treasure by now,” James said, referring to Aiden’s career as an art dealer, already reveling in the victory they could all see coming.

“I’ve never been interested in a wife. And I doubt anyone would be willing to play your games, Grandfather.”

Taking a deep breath, Christina willed away the nausea crawling up the back of her throat. She pushed away from the wall. “I will,” she said.


Two (#u4324306c-d791-5af5-9bec-8f416cd1177d)

“Oh, and one last thing...”

When spoken by James, those were not the words Christina wanted to hear. She eyed the door to the suite with longing. Only a few more feet and she’d be free...

For now.

“A platonic relationship between you two isn’t acceptable. My goal is a legacy. I can’t get that with separate bedrooms.”

Panic bubbled up beneath the surface of her skin until Aiden replied with a droll, “Grandfather, you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.”

Even from her new viewpoint near the door, Christina could see the twist of James’s lips. “My dear boy, lead a horse to water often enough, and it will damn sure get thirsty.”

The bad part was, James was right. She’d only been in the room with Aiden for a half hour and the awareness of him as a man sizzled across her with every look. But sleep with him? A man who was practically a stranger to her? She couldn’t do that.

But what about Lily?

Christina noted the fine tension in Aiden’s shoulders beneath his damp dress shirt. The whole room seemed to hold its breath, waiting on someone to make the next move. But it wouldn’t be her—right now, she had no clue what to do, what to think. She just needed out of here.

Echoing her thoughts, Aiden turned toward her and took a few steps, only pausing for a brief glance back at his grandfather. “I refuse to make this kind of choice within a matter of minutes. Or to let Christina do so. I’ll be back later tonight.”

Aiden’s control as he ushered them both from the room intrigued her. What was really going on behind his mask of defiance?

Christina maintained her own poise until the door to the master suite clicked shut behind her. Then she stumbled across the hall to the landing as if she was drunk. Pausing with a tight grasp on the cool wood of the balustrade, she drew air into lungs that felt like they were burning.

She’d just volunteered to become Aiden Blackstone’s wife. But considering James’s final requirement, how would she ever go through with it?

Startled by the shuffle of feet behind her, she tightened her grip on the wooden banister. Knowing Aiden and Canton were approaching, Christina struggled to pull herself together. She needed to get through the rest of the afternoon without the veneer cracking.

Just as she turned back to face the others, Nolen appeared at the end of the hallway. The old butler’s eyes carried more than their share of worry as he approached, but he didn’t say anything. He probably knew every detail of what had transpired in James Blackstone’s suite this afternoon. Somehow, he and Marie always knew.

From behind her, Canton’s voice rang clear. “It’s early still. We can go down to the probate judge’s office now and get the paperwork started. You can be married within a week.”

Nolen frowned back at the lawyer, his glower making her feel cared for, protected. It was a rare occurrence for her—she was used to being the protector—making it that much more appreciated. Her heart swelled, aching with love and worry of her own. She slowly shook her head as she turned to face the men. “I need to think. Some time to think.” She struggled to clear her clouded thoughts. “And I need to check on Lily.”

“She’s fine with Nicole,” Nolen said, extending his elbow so she could take his arm. Old-fashioned to the core. Her muscles relaxed; her smile appeared. He smiled back. “But we’ll stop by if it will ease your mind.”

Resigning herself to his help because she knew it would soothe his concern, she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. They crossed the landing to the other suite of rooms on the second floor. With a deep breath, Christina paused to look back over her shoulder. “Aiden, will you come see Lily?”

He watched her from several feet away, hooded lids at half-mast, hiding the only thing that would showcase his emotions. “Later,” he said, short and definitely not sweet. But his still features didn’t tell her whether he simply couldn’t face his mother or simply didn’t care. He turned to Canton. “I’m not going anywhere until I’ve looked over those papers and talked to my own lawyer.”

With a short nod, Canton moved to the stairs and started down. Aiden followed, his stiff back forcefully cutting off any approach.

Nolen harrumphed in disapproval, but Christina ignored him. Maybe she was imagining the loneliness in that brief look from Aiden, but he seemed cloaked in an aura of solitude. With a quiet knock, Nolen let them into Lily’s suite, leaving the mystery of Aiden behind her.

Here, filtered sunlight illuminated lavender-flowered wallpaper and a slightly darker carpet, the soft decor far removed from the oppressive majesty of the opposite suite. The tranquility soothed Christina’s shaky nerves. They passed through a sitting room with the television turned low to the sleeping area beyond.

Nicole, the housekeeper’s grandniece, sat in the overstuffed chair by the adjustable bed James had specially ordered. She looked up from the thick nursing textbook in her lap.

“Come to check on her?” Nicole asked.

Christina nodded. “How’s she doing?”

“Oh, the storm did neither of us any good, but after I did her exercises, she settled right down.” Nicole flashed a toothy smile, bright against her tanned skin. “Her vitals are normal, so she’s resting fine now. Still a little spooky, though, seeing her respond like that.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised at the stories nurses have about comatose patients. It’s a very interesting area of study.” Christina should know; she’d studied every case history, textbook explanation and word-of-mouth example she’d been able to get her hands on. The stroke damage had healed; still, Lily had not come back to them.

“You’re gonna make a wonderful nurse someday, Nicole,” Nolen said, beaming as if she were his own grandchild.

“Yes, you are,” Christina agreed. She’d encouraged Nicole from the moment the girl had come around asking questions about Christina’s duties. Now the young woman was a nursing student at the university forty minutes away and helped Christina with Lily on certain nights and weekends.

Christina went through the motions of checking Lily’s pulse while Nicole and Nolen quietly discussed some problems she’d had with her car this week.

Christina laid her hand on Lily’s forehead, noting the normal temperature, and scanned the monitors beeping nearby through habit. But there, the professionalism ended. She leaned closer to Lily’s ear.

“He’s home, Lily.” She sighed. “He doesn’t like it, but for now, he’s here. I’ll bring him to see you soon.”

There was no indication that Lily had heard, just the beeps of the monitors. Lily’s thin, pale features never moved; her eyes never opened. But Christina had to believe she was happy to know her son was back under Blackstone Manor’s roof. She wouldn’t be happy about her father’s machinations, though. To force two people to marry... Christina shivered as she remembered the feel of Aiden’s intense gaze penetrating the thin veneer with which she protected her emotions.

The housekeeper’s arrival drew her from her thoughts. “So what’s this I hear about a wedding?” Marie asked, marching in, still dressed in the apron printed with the words “I make this kitchen hotter” the sixty-five-year-old wore whenever she knew James wouldn’t catch her.

Christina wanted to groan. How had the news spread through the house so fast? Sometimes she thought the staff had the place bugged.

“It’s more of a business agreement than a wedding,” Christina said, a slight wave of dizziness rushing over her at the thought. “If there is a wedding...” She wasn’t entirely sure Aiden would go through with it, once that hot streak of defiance cooled. Could she, if it gave her the legal right to protect Lily?

But she couldn’t share a bed with him. Surely, they could get around that part....

“It’s unnatural, is what it is,” Nolen interjected. “Two strangers entering into something as sacred as marriage.”

“And those words of wisdom brought to you by a lifelong bachelor.” Marie grinned. “Besides, they aren’t strangers. They’ve known each other since they were kids.”

There were flutters of panic in Christina’s chest as she remembered that last face-to-face meeting with a seventeen-year-old Aiden. She’d mooned over him from afar every time she came to visit Blackstone Manor. Sometimes the hope of seeing him had drawn her just as much as Lily’s company, but that day had taught her well how little he felt for her. Whenever she’d come near him, he’d demonstrated the same unpleasant endurance as her parents, who also looked at her as a pest that they wished would disappear. He’d called her invader many times over the years she’d hung around, aching for a bit of Lily’s attention. Yes, that was definitely how he’d seen her time here at Blackstone Manor. After that final rejection, she’d stayed as far away from Aiden Blackstone as possible.

Nolen wasn’t letting this go. “It is unnatural, I’m tellin’ you. This isn’t a good thing. James is manipulating them, and Aiden, his own grandson, into marrying for his own damnable purposes.”

“And what purposes would those be?” Marie asked, her hands going to her hips.

Christina’s mouth was already open, but Nolen spoke first. “Building some god-awful legacy. As if he hasn’t introduced enough unpleasantness into this world. He threatened his own daughter if they didn’t do what he wanted.”

“Oh, I bet that’s all talk.” Marie looked sideways at Christina with a worried frown pulling all her wrinkles in a southern direction. “Is this true? Is he forcing you into something you don’t want?”

This was getting way out of hand—and way more personal than Christina wanted. “No. I volunteered. And nothing has been decided yet.” But I will take care of Lily—and all of you.

Marie went on, her frown softening a little. “Maybe our Christina is exactly what Aiden needs right now. These things happen for a reason, I do believe.”

Christina’s heart melted with Marie’s sugar-scented hug, but she doubted anything she did would soften the hardened heart of the Blackstone heir.

“You never know what might happen in a year,” Marie said with a sly smile. “Besides, family takes care of their own. She’ll be fine here with us.”

This conversation was almost unbelievable. If Christina hadn’t been in James’s room, she wouldn’t have believed the situation herself.

Christina’s mind echoed with Marie’s words. A year was a short time in some ways, a long time in others. Would she come out on the other side whole? Or with a broken heart to go with her divorce decree?

As long as Lily and the rest of her family were safe and cared for, it would be worth it for Christina. Marie was right. These people were her family, as close as she’d come to having one since her parents had divorced when she was eight. Who was she kidding? Her family had never been real.

As a child, Christina’s sole purpose in life had been as a pawn in her mother’s strategy to extort more and more money from her father. That’s where Christina had learned what two-faced meant—her mother all lovey-dovey when Dad showed up, abandoning her at her society friends’ houses when she was no longer useful. A hard lesson, but Christina had learned it well.

She’d promised herself when she’d turned eighteen that she’d never go back to that kind of situation; never again have no value outside of what she could do for another.

So was she truly willing to become James Blackstone’s pawn?

* * *

“When are you heading back? That Zabinski woman is killing me.”

He didn’t want to think about Ellen Zabinski right now. He had enough problems on his hands. After a solid twenty-four hours of thinking, Aiden knew what he had to do. He still didn’t want to, but this choice was inevitable.

“I’m not.”

The dead silence would have been amusing if Aiden wasn’t in such a bind. His assistant Trisha’s silence was as rare as some of the art he imported. While he waited for her to recover, he paced across his bedroom to gaze out the back window. He compared the view of the lush country yard, the gentle sway of the grass and tree branches in the breeze, with the constant motion of the city. The very sereneness made him want to fall asleep. Not in a good way. Why would he consider uprooting his busy life, even if it was only for a few months?

A myriad of reasons not to do this rambled through his mind—work, taking a stand against his grandfather’s high-handedness, a lack of interest in the mill and a whole host of other things. Then his gaze fell on the chestnut-haired beauty strolling across the lawn to talk to the gardener. Christina smiled, stealing his breath. Her stride was sure, and those hips... As she spoke, her hands gestured with elegant grace to illustrate her words.

He should be worried about his mom—not her nurse. But as Christina looked up into the fifty-year-old weeping willow in the backyard, exposing the vulnerable skin of her throat, Aiden’s mouth watered.

When Trisha finally spoke again, her words were slow and measured. “What’s going on?”

“Let’s just say, I will be stuck cleaning up family business for a while.”

She wasn’t buying that. “How long can it take to get the ball rolling on the estate? He had a will, right? Why would that require you to be on-site?”

“Yes, he had a will, but that’s not really helpful since he isn’t dead.”

A single bout of silence from Trisha was a surprise. Twice in one conversation—a miracle. But she came back with her usual snarky humor.

“So are you trying to talk me into moving to the wilds of South Carolina? Marty wouldn’t care much for that.”

Just the thought of Italian-born-and-bred Antonio Martinelli in Black Hills was enough to brighten Aiden’s day. “No, as amusing as that would be, I was thinking more along the lines of giving you an assistant and a raise.”

Make that three spells of silence, although the pause was much shorter this time. “Don’t tease me, Aiden.”

“I’m not kidding,” he said, feeling as if he should raise his hand in a scout-style salute. “You’ve worked hard, sharpened your own sales skills. I’m gonna need help to pull this off. We can do a lot by conference call and video chats, and I’ll make a trip up there when necessary. But the majority of first contact and sales will fall on you.”

Aiden ignored the surge of misery at the thought of being away from his business for long. But he wouldn’t be out of contact. And he would not lose the gem it had cost him years of his life to build.

“It’s only temporary,” he assured his assistant and himself. “Just until I can get legal custody of Mother.” But watching until Christina disappeared from sight, Aiden knew his motives weren’t nearly that noble.

Turning away, he gave Trisha a brief rundown of his grandfather’s demands.

“Whoa,” she said. “And I thought Italian-American grandparents were demanding. That’s crazy. Why would you go through with that?”

“At least a wife will give me a weapon against Ellen,” he said, making light of his current struggle. Shivers erupted just thinking about the barracuda with whom he’d mildly enjoyed his customary night, only to have her decide once wasn’t enough. She’d spent the last month making his life miserable. “How often has she called the office?” Aiden had blocked her from his cell phone.

“Oh, every afternoon like clockwork. She doesn’t believe that you aren’t here. I’m just waiting for her to show up in person and force me to pull out my pepper spray.”

There was way too much glee in his assistant’s voice. “Don’t get arrested.”

“I won’t...if she behaves herself—”

Doubtful. But Trisha handled most situations with tact—even if she talked tough. “Do whatever you have to do. Maybe me being out of town for several months will help. In the meantime, you can forward client calls to my cell.”

They talked a few more logistics, and Aiden promised to be in touch daily. Balancing two businesses in two different states would not be a walk in the park, but he was determined to hold on to whatever he could in New York.

His grandfather might take his freedom, but he would not destroy everything Aiden had worked so hard to build.


Three (#u4324306c-d791-5af5-9bec-8f416cd1177d)

Aiden’s uncharacteristic urge to curse like a sailor was starting to irritate him. As he snatched one of the cookies Marie had left cooling on the kitchen counter, he contemplated the grim facts. His lawyer hadn’t found a way around the legal knots James had tied. There wasn’t evidence to have him declared mentally unstable. He was, but then he’d always been. If jackassery could be considered a mental condition. And any legal proceedings to steal guardianship of his mother would take too long. Aiden wasn’t willing to chance his mother’s health and well-being. He owed her too much.

So his bad mood was justified, but when he found himself stomping up the narrow back staircase from the kitchen, the taste of chocolate chip cookie lingering on his tongue, he knew it was time to get himself under control. After all, he wasn’t a schoolboy or angst-ridden teen. He was a man capable of engineering million-dollar art deals. He could handle one obstinate grandfather and a soon-to-be bride—but only with a cool head.

As a distraction, his mind drifted to other days blessed with warm cookies, spent playing hide-and-seek or sword-wielding pirates on these dark stairs. The perfect atmosphere for little-boy secrets and make-believe. He and his brothers had also used them to disappear when their grandfather came looking for them. He’d often been on a terror about something or other. They’d sneak down and out the kitchen door for a quick escape.

Aiden stretched his mouth into a grim smile as he rounded a particularly tight bend. Escape was something he’d always excelled at. Except with Ellen Zabinski.

He didn’t hear the footsteps until too late. He’d barely looked up before colliding with someone coming down the stairs. A soft someone who emitted a little squeal as she stumbled. Certain they’d fall, Aiden surged forward to keep from losing his balance. Christina tried to pull back, but her momentum worked against her. Hands flailed, finding purchase on his shoulders. Her front crushed to his. Their weight pressed dead against each other, stabilizing as two became one.

Everything froze for Aiden, as if his very cells locked down. He managed one strangled breath, filled with the fresh scent of her hair, before his body sprang to life. Her soft curves and sexy smell urged him to pull her closer, so much so that his fingers tightened against the rounded curves of her denim-covered hips. The soft flesh gave beneath his grip.

He’d been without a woman for far too long. That had to be why he was so off balance. His strict adherence to his “no attachments” rule had led to a lifetime of brief encounters. His last choice had been a wrong one, a woman who wasn’t happy when he walked out the door the next morning. It had soured him on any woman since.

Darkness permeated the staircase, heightening the illusion of intimacy. His and Christina’s accelerated breaths were the only sound between them. They were so close, he felt the slight tremor that raced over her echo throughout his entire body. It took more minutes than Aiden cared to admit for his mind to kick into gear.

“Dreamed up more ways to invade my territory, Christina?”

He felt her stiffen against his palms, tension replacing that delicious softness. Just as he’d intended.

Before he could regret anything, she retreated, stabilizing herself with a hand against the wall. “Aiden,” she said, prim disapproval not hiding a hint of breathlessness, “I’m sorry for not seeing you.”

I’m not.

“And for the record, I’m not invading anything. So I’d thank you to never call me by that stupid nickname.”

It was a sign of his own childhood needs that he’d resented the attention she’d received here at Blackstone Manor when they were kids, enough to tease her with his invader tag. There had been times he’d felt as if she had invaded their chaotic life, garnering what little positive attention there was to go around. How he’d resented that. To the point that, one hot summer afternoon, he’d spoken harsh words he’d always regret.

“I’m trying to help, Aiden. I really am.” Her voice came out low, intensifying the sense of intimacy.

He had to clear his own throat before he spoke again. “Why? I’m nothing to you.”

“And I realize I’m nothing to you, but I care very much for Lily.”

He could feel his suspicious nature, the one that served him so well in business negotiations, kick in. “So what’s he have on you, sweetheart?”

Christina didn’t pretend not to understand. “Lily.”

“Why? There are other jobs, other people in need of a nurse.”

Her glare was almost visible in the dim light. He should feel lucky he wasn’t smoldering under that fire. Instead, a cool brush of air drifted over him as she shifted back on the steps. “If you had hung around over the past ten years, you’d know that Lily has been like a mother to me. Ever since we were kids.” Pausing to swallow, she looked down for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was once more firm and devoid of emotion. “I understand what’s being required of me.”

Somehow that monotone didn’t make him any happier than her anger, and he couldn’t resist the urge to shake her out of it. “You’d sell yourself to a stranger for what, money? Hoping ol’ Granddad will give you a piece of the pie if you work hard enough for it?”

“No,” she insisted. “I’m not selling myself, but I will sacrifice myself to do what I think is right for Lily.” She reached out in a pleading gesture, but jerked back as her fingertips brushed his chest. A deep breath seemed to stabilize her control. The professional was back. “It’s my belief as a nurse, and as Lily’s friend, that she’s conscious of where she is. This house has been her sanctuary since her car accident. I can guarantee that removing her from here will negatively affect her physical and emotional condition. Especially if he puts her in—” a shudder worked its way over her “—that place. I’ll do whatever’s necessary to keep Lily out of there.... Will you?”

Aiden shifted his legs, wishing he could pace despite the confinement of his surroundings. “Would he really do that to her, you think?”

An unladylike snort sounded in the air, surprising him. But Christina obviously wasn’t in the mood to pull her punches. “Have you forgotten that much already? He’s only become more pigheaded through the years.”

“You seem to handle him pretty well,” he said, remembering how she’d stared James down over the medicine.

Her brow lifted in disbelief. “He only concedes to my medical expertise because he’s afraid of dying.”

“He’s not afraid of anything.”

“Actually, Aiden, deep down we’re all afraid of something.” Her shaky breath told him she was afraid of something, too, but she wasn’t revealing any secrets. “Death is the only thing James can’t outwit, outsmart or bully into getting his way.”

Though he didn’t understand why, Aiden felt a strange kinship tingle at the edge of his consciousness. She might look delicate, but Christina was racking up evidence of being one smart cookie. On top of that, a common bond tightened between them: Lily. He knew the source of his guilt—his obligation to his mother. Despite her words, he knew Christina’s devotion to Lily wasn’t just friendship; something else lurked beneath that fierce dedication. Was it just how good Lily had been to her? Or something more? He’d find out what was going on there. She could bet on it.

The sudden silence must have become too much for her, because Christina moved forward as if to continue down the stairs. The polite thing would have been to step aside, but the ache to feel that body against his once more kept him perversely still. She slowed within a hairbreadth, tension mounting once more. “Aiden?”

“So you’re really willing to do this?” he asked, almost holding his breath as he awaited her answer. What delicious torture to spend the next year with this woman and keep his hands to himself. Could he? This was a huge mistake.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I can, you know, share a bed with you.”

The way her voice trailed off told him how very uncomfortable she was, which only awakened images of making her very comfortable in a bed for two. But maybe he could find a way to make this work.

“Don’t worry. I’ll figure out a way around that.”

“Do you have any other choices for a wife?” she asked. “I didn’t really give you a chance to choose.”

Arguments? He had a few, but none that were effective. Excuses? A whole hay wagon full, but none he dared utter in the face of the threat to his mother’s well-being. Other women? He could think of many a delectable armful over the last ten years, but none interested in anything as mundane as marriage. He’d stayed far away from the home-and-hearth type.

“No,” he conceded, then stepped aside to let her pass. “I don’t think I could pay my assistant enough to move to the middle of nowhere and put up with me 24/7.”

“It’s hardly the middle of nowhere,” she said with a light tone as she scooted past, brushing the far wall in an attempt not to touch him again.

Which was just as well.

She continued, “We might not have the culture of New York City, but there’s still a movie theater, nice restaurants and the country-club set.” She kept that delicate face turned resolutely away as he followed her into the soft afternoon light of the kitchen. “Not something I’m that interested in, but to each his own.”

Interesting. “What do your parents think about that?”

“Who knows?” And who cares, her tone said. Could she really brush aside what her family thought that easily? Everything he’d seen since his return made him think she was family-focused. Her graceful appearance, fierce loyalty and career choice made her seem exactly like the marriage, kids and picket-fence type. All the more reason to keep his pants zipped around her.

What were they going to do about that bed? It was long moments later before she finally turned to face him, but for once the delicate lines of her face told him nothing.

“Honestly, Aiden, I want to help. This situation is uncomfortable at best, but for Lily...”

She’ll do anything. Her earlier question rang once more in his ears: Would he put aside his own selfish wants, his own desire to run far, far away for the second time, for the needs of his mother and his childhood home?

Would he?

* * *

Christina picked her way down the damp concrete steps in front of the stately Black Hills courthouse. Thunderstorms had blown through during the night, leaving a cool breeze that rustled through the Bradford pear trees lining the square. Her trembling body felt just as jostled as she followed Aiden and Canton. Were her feet really numb or was that just the shock of signing the papers?

“It’s official,” the probate judge had said, beaming with the pride of initiating a Blackstone marriage.

Luckily, it wasn’t truly official—she still had about a week before the marriage license came in to regain her senses, but picturing Lily at home, fragile yet safe in her bed, told Christina she wouldn’t change her mind.

She couldn’t turn her back on the friend who’d given up so much for her.

The three of them reached the bottom just as a group of local guys approached. Cleaned up from work in jeans and button-downs, they looked like what they were—small-town guys headin’ down to start their weekend with some fun at Lola’s, the local bar.

“Well, look at this, boys. It’s Aiden Blackstone, back from New York City.”

Christina cringed inside. Jason Briggs had to be the cockiest guy in Black Hills, and had the mouth to prove it. Not someone she wanted to deal with given her current edgy nerves.

“Jason.” Aiden acknowledged the other man with the single, short word. From his tight tone, Christina guessed his memories of Jason were anything but fond.

“Whatya doin’ back here?” Jason asked, as if it was any of his business. “Can’t imagine you showing up after all this time for a pleasure visit.” He glanced past Aiden to Christina. “Or is it?”

The guys with him snickered, causing Christina to tense. While Aiden didn’t seem like the “let’s solve this with our fists” type, Jason had been known to push lesser men over the edge. The differences between the two were clear. Aiden was perfectly at home in his dress pants and shoes, his own button-down tucked in and sporting the sheen of a silky material. He wasn’t the old-school business-suit type, but he looked like a sophisticated professional, while the dark, stylishly spiked hair and his brooding look gave him that creative edge that probably had the women of New York swooning like Southern belles.

She knew she was.

But in the midst of the other men, it was like comparing dynamite to ordinary firecrackers. Jason and his crew might be the big fish in this tiny pond, but Christina put her money on the shark invading their midst.

The metaphor proved apt as Aiden ignored their ribbing with the confidence of someone who couldn’t be beaten. “I’m here to take over my grandfather’s affairs, now that he’s become ill,” he said with quiet confidence, not mentioning the true purpose of this little visit to the courthouse.

It was Canton who stirred the waters. “Including the running of the mill,” he added.

Rumblings started from the back of the group, but Jason shrugged off the explanation with a smart, “Doubt he can fix what’s wrong any more than a good ol’ boy like Bateman can.”

“Who’s Bateman?” Aiden asked.

The men simply stared at him for a minute before Christina answered. “Bateman is the current day foreman at the mill.”

“Check it out,” Jason said, raising his voice just a bit. “Guy doesn’t even know who the foreman is, and he thinks he’s gonna stop all the bull that’s been going on over there.”

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” Aiden said, cool, calm and collected. Standing tall on the steps, his back braced and arms folded across his chest, giving him the presence of a leader.

Jason held his gaze for a moment, probably an attempt to stare Aiden down, then shifted his cocky eyes to Christina. A weaker target. She fought the urge to ease behind Aiden’s strong back for protection. Jason was older than she was by a few years, but that hadn’t stopped him from hitting on her when they were teenagers. He hadn’t appreciated her rejection, and now enjoyed hassling her whenever they met. “I guess you filled him in, huh, sweet cheeks? Is that all you gave him? Information?”

Confident he’d gotten a few good jabs in, Jason decided he was done with them. With a self-assured jerk of his head, he got the whole crew moving like the lemmings they were.

Aiden watched them go before asking, “So he works out at the mill?”

Canton replied before Christina could. “Yes. His father is in management, I believe.”

“That’s not going to help him if he ever talks to Christina like that again.”

Startled, Christina eyed Aiden’s hard jaw and compressed lips. She’d never had a champion before, at least, not one capable of doing much in her defense. That Aiden would punish Jason on her behalf...she wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Christina frowned after the departing group. Maybe she had more of her mother’s tastes than she’d wanted to admit. None of the local guys had ever interested her much. Jerks like Jason who thought they were God’s gift to the women of this town didn’t help. But Aiden’s quietly sophisticated, confident aura made her stomach tighten every time she saw him. Which was trouble, big trouble. Especially when she started looking to him for more than just that tingling rush.

Glancing back at the men, she found Aiden watching her intently. Her cheeks burned. Please don’t let him be able to guess my thoughts.

“What’s he talking about?” Aiden asked.

Was he asking her? Why not the lawyer? But the direction of Aiden’s stare was plain.

“Well, I know there’ve been some problems out at the mill. Strange things happening. Shipments delayed or missing altogether. Perfectly good equipment breaking unexpectedly. Things like that.”

“Sabotage?” Aiden asked with narrowing eyes.

Canton broke in. “Absolutely not. Just a coincidence, is all.”

But Christina wasn’t about to lie to the person she hoped would be able to fix it. “Some people say it is. But there’s no proof of anything. Still, people in the town are starting to get antsy, superstitious, worried about their jobs—”

Canton cleared his throat, shooting her a “shut your mouth” glare. “Everything will be fine once they realize a strong Blackstone is back at the helm.”

Still, Aiden watched her, assessing as if he were cataloging her every feature. But then his gaze seemed to morph into something more, something she couldn’t look away from as heat spread through her limbs like seeping honey. When was the last time a man, any man, had truly seen her? Gifted her with a moment of intense focus?

But Aiden’s silvery-black gaze didn’t hold desire—at least, not the kind that shivered through her veins. No, his eyes appraised her, calculating her value. Their shared look allowed her to see the moment the idea hit him.

Yes, she could be useful to a lot of people, but to Aiden in particular. She knew this town in ways he didn’t anymore. And Jason had just proven that taking over the town’s biggest source of income wasn’t going to be easy. Small-town Southerners had long memories, and little tolerance for outsiders coming in to tell them what to do.

He didn’t have an easy road ahead of him, but she had a feeling she’d just been chosen to pave his way.


Four (#u4324306c-d791-5af5-9bec-8f416cd1177d)

Christina enjoyed reading to Lily. Sometimes she would indulge in short verses from a book of poetry, magazine articles or a cozy mystery. Today the words from a story set in a small town like theirs eased over them both, until muffled bumps and bangs erupted from the adjoining room. She cocked her head, hearing more thumping sounds. A quick glance reassured her Lily was okay, so she set the book down and hurried through the dressing room.

The noise grew as she approached the door that led from Lily’s dressing room to Christina’s bedroom. What was going on?

Opening the door, she found herself facing a...wall? A mattress wall?

Going back through Lily’s suite to the other exit into the hallway only gave her time to get good and angry. Nolen stood outside Christina’s room, arms crossed over his chest. His closed stance matched his expression.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Nolen shook his head. “That boy. Master Aiden always was one to get something in his mind, and that’s all she wrote....”

Alarm skittered through Christina. What was he up to? One step inside the disarray told her it was no good.

“Why are you rearranging the furniture in my room?” She didn’t care that her voice was high-pitched and panicked. He could not do this. He could not simply move himself in without permission.

Furniture had been shoved aside, her bed taken apart and general chaos reigned. In the midst of it all, Aiden stood, legs braced. He wore almond-colored cargo pants and a blue button-down, sleeves rolled up to expose muscled forearms with a sprinkling of dark hair. A masculine statue in purple girly land.

He nodded to the delivery guys. “I think I’ve got it from here.”

Christina practically vibrated as she waited for them to clear the room. Her eyes rounded and her throat tightened as the men took her old mattress with them.

“Thanks, Nolen,” she heard Aiden say before the door clicked closed. Then he resumed his autocratic stance nearby.

“Don’t you think we should have talked about this first?”

His insolent shrug matched his nonchalant attitude, which only upped her panic for some reason. “Why? You said you would go through with this for Mother.”

She wanted to scream, but held on to her control for a moment more. “Yes, but not sharing a bed.”

He was silent so long that she shifted uncomfortably. Finally, he said, “James will get his way—you said that yourself.”

“But if we give him the marriage, maybe—”

“He doesn’t want this half-done, Christina. You know that. But I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t feel comfortable with.”

She raised her brows, pointedly surveying her disheveled room. “It seems like that’s exactly what you’re doing. I’m definitely not comfortable with this.”

“We each have a side. I’ll keep my clothes and stuff upstairs, out of your way. This doesn’t have to be any more intimate than two people sleeping beside each other.”

She wanted to study his face, see if he really believed that, but she couldn’t scratch up the nerve. Instead, she concentrated on maintaining what small modicum of grace she still possessed.

“Look,” Aiden said, “if we’re gonna do this, we’ve got to be all in. Either that, or get out now.”

Christina glanced at the door to Lily’s room. “No. I’m in,” she conceded. But as she turned back to measure the queen-size mattress dominating her small room, she had to ask, “Couldn’t you have bought two twins?”

His grin should be illegal. “Where’s the fun in that?”

* * *

Christina shoved leaden limbs through the armholes of her nightgown and dragged it on. The day had been long, and an even longer, probably restless night lay ahead. Her emotional turmoil was compounded by worries over Lily, James’s health, the bargain she’d agreed to and Aiden...always Aiden. Nicole had testing to keep her away for the next two days, but Christina looked forward to the nonstop vigil Lily’s care required. Sometimes she wished taking care of Lily were a bit more labor intensive. It might help her think a whole lot less.

Her sigh echoed around her tiny bedroom. Soon she’d be the wife of Aiden Blackstone. The cocktail of fear, desire and worry bubbling through her veins might just be enough to keep her awake until then.

But hopefully not. She stared at the new queen-size bed that consumed more than its fair share of real estate. Great, another worry. How in the world could she share a bed with Aiden Blackstone?

Long moments spent unable to imagine such a thing convinced her to worry about it another day. Instead, she settled in and let lethargy weigh her into the mattress. Please, just a few hours of oblivion.

But before she could drift off, she heard a sound from Lily’s room. Christina’s heavy head lifted. Again, that shuffling sound. Muffled by the dressing room that connected her to the suite, but there nonetheless. Had Nolen or Marie come to check on Lily before retiring?

A grimace twisted Christina’s lips as she pulled herself out from the warm nest under her covers. In the two years since Lily’s stroke, she’d often heard noises from her friend’s room. Sometimes the others came to say good-night. Sometimes a branch from the oak tree outside had scraped against the window. Sometimes she heard just the creaks and groans of a house that had seen a lot of living.

Each time, a small part of Christina’s heart hoped it was her friend. That Lily had woken up and would walk in here to gift one of her gentle hugs and tell Christina she was okay. That she wasn’t responsible for what had happened.

But it never came to be—and that broke Christina’s heart.

A muffled voice sounded through the partially closed door of the dressing room, and Christina slowed, not wanting to interrupt. As she paused, the words “Hey, Mom,” barely floated in and her feet rooted to the floor. Aiden? To her knowledge, he hadn’t been to see his mother since he’d come to Blackstone Manor. But she’d hoped. Someday.

She knew she should leave, give him some privacy. Instead, she found herself easing up to the door and peeking through the opening into the room beyond.

Aiden hunched forward in a chair just on the far edge of the faint illumination from the night-light. Even in the deep shadows she recognized his long, solid build. His head hung low, and his shoulders slumped, as if a weight of emotion dragged him down. He remained silent for long moments, not moving, almost not breathing. It was hard to reconcile him with the virile man who had confronted her on the stairs days ago. Or who’d stood his ground against the derision of Jason and his crew.

Her thoughts cut off as he looked up, gifting her with the sight of his strong features and stubble-lined jaw. It intrigued her, that small sign of weariness, that little mark of imperfection on a man usually so perfectly groomed. Would it scratch her skin if he kissed her? His deep-set eyes barely glittered in the darkness, lending to the mystery, the hushed intimacy of the moment.

“I screwed up, Mom,” he said, surprising Christina with not only his words but his matter-of-fact tone. “I left here a kid, full of anger and pride. I had no idea what that would cost me, cost us. But especially you.”

He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it in spiky disarray instead of sculpted artistry. “You didn’t blame me then, and you probably don’t blame me now. That’s the kind of person you are. But I blame me. Boy, do I—”

The small choking sound tore Christina’s heart. She saw no evidence of tears, but the depth of Aiden’s sorrow reached out from across the space separating them. She wanted to go to him, hold him and tell him his mother understood. Her foot moved before she realized what was happening and only by locking down her muscles could she stop herself.

Invader. Aiden wouldn’t want her comfort. And if he knew the role she herself had played in Lily’s accident, hers would be the last face he’d want to see right now.

“But I will make up for it. I promise you, you will stay in this house for the rest of your life.”

I’ll do my best, too, Christina thought.

He stood, hands fisted at his sides, but he made no move to approach the bed holding the ever-silent woman. “Grandfather thinks this is some kind of game, with him in the role of chess master. But it’s not. It’s an act of penance. After all, you’d just been to see me when you had the accident. Coming to me because I refused to buck the old man and come to you. Resisting him was more important to me than you were.” Long moments elapsed when Christina could only hear the pounding of her heart.

His final words floated through the air. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

He remained still for the length of one breath, then two, before he turned and walked away.

Christina didn’t move. Couldn’t leave, couldn’t continue forward. She stood frozen, held by the realization that this might be a game to James, but Aiden was more than a willing player. His investment was deeper than she’d thought, and if he ever found out her involvement in Lily’s accident, she would become the biggest loser of all.


Five (#ulink_b34d59df-a133-58f6-a5f4-4bc2cbfb506a)

Almost a week after making his pledge to his mother, the marriage license arrived—and Aiden was royally screwed.

Oh, he would go through with it. In his gut, he knew this was the last thing he could do for his mother, one thing she could be proud of him for. She’d made her home here, been highly involved in the community, and she’d want him to care for it, too.

He couldn’t promise her he’d stay. But he could get her safely settled and make sure the town remained secure. Still, his confrontation with Christina on the stairs taunted him. And the fire with which she’d argued with him in her bedroom—soon to be their bedroom—tempted him to enjoy everything she might have to offer. Which made it imperative to lay out some ground rules with his future bride, so they both knew what to expect—from this situation and each other.

Following Marie’s directions, he found Christina in the back garden among his mother’s irises, which were in full, royal purple bloom in the spring sunshine. She was sitting on a wood and wrought-iron bench, a truly genteel resting place in the shade of a small dogwood tree.

He marched up beside her and dug right in. “Look, Christina, in terms of this marriage, we should start with—”

“Good afternoon, Aiden,” she said, squinting up at him in a way that wrinkled her delicate nose. “Won’t you please join me?” She motioned to the matching bench opposite her own.

He frowned. “Christina, this is a business arrangement. We should treat it like one.”

“Aiden,” she said, her tone a mocking version of his own stern one, “we don’t do business like that in the South. Or have you forgotten? Now stop being a jerk and sit down.”

Her words brought on a mixture of irritation and amused admiration, but it was the haughty stare that cinched the deal, that had his blood pounding in all the inappropriate places. It was the same implacable look she’d given James, though this time, that arched brow almost dared Aiden to defy her.

So be it. He was a New Yorker now, but he hadn’t forgotten how Southern hospitality worked. He forced himself to take the offered seat and studied his bride-to-be. “And how are you this afternoon, Miss Christina?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

His Southern-gentleman routine coaxed a laugh from those luscious lips, which emphasized the shadowy circles under her eyes. For the first time, he wondered just how much of a burden this marriage was on her. Did her family approve? He didn’t remember much about them, except that his mother hadn’t cared for either parent. They’d divorced when Christina was quite young, he thought.




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