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Tempting The Texan
Maureen Child
Can he lie to save his legacy? Rancher Kellan Blackwood is poised to fight the gold-digging stepmother who inherited his father's empire. He doesn't expect his former maid—and long-ago lover—to block his way. Though Irina Romanov may hold secrets about his father’s motives, Kellan must keep his hands off…


How will he resist the woman who once got away?
In the fight for his family’s legacy, will this former flame consume him?
Rancher Kellan Blackwood is poised to fight the gold-digging stepmother who inherited his father’s empire. He doesn’t expect Irina Romanov, his father’s former maid—and Kellan’s long-ago lover—to block his way. Though Irina may hold secrets about his father’s motives, Kellan must keep his hands off. For the twice-tempted, secret lovers who once set Texas ablaze, that’s easier said than done.
USA TODAY Bestselling Author Maureen Child
MAUREEN CHILD writes for the Mills & Boon Desire line and can’t imagine a better job. A seven-time finalist for the prestigious Romance Writers of America RITA® Award, Maureen is the author of more than one hundred romance novels. Her books regularly appear on bestseller lists and have won several awards, including a Prism Award, a National Readers’ Choice Award, a Colorado Romance Writers Award of Excellence and a Golden Quill Award. She is a native Californian but has recently moved to the mountains of Utah.
Also by Maureen Child (#u80783e21-49d6-57ab-8936-3c37850e4794)
The Tycoon’s Secret Child
A Texas-Sized Secret
Little Secrets: His Unexpected Heir
Rich Rancher’s Redemption
Billionaire’s Bargain
Tempt Me in Vegas
Bombshell for the Boss
Red Hot Rancher
Texas Cattleman’s Club: Inheritance miniseries
Tempting the Texan
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).
Tempting the Texan
Maureen Child


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-09286-9
TEMPTING THE TEXAN
© 2019 Harlequin Books S.A.
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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To Desire readers.
Thanks to you, I can tell all the stories I love to read.
I appreciate you all so much.
Contents
Cover (#u4fb752cd-0114-5739-9581-fba19dc29b31)
Back Cover Text (#u98ced8db-714a-5bff-a203-b3d260193f2c)
About the Author (#u458bfb50-ed6c-52cb-b7b1-8031d4c9d22e)
Booklist (#u199c6235-bd44-520a-8a42-ac94e8c1afcc)
Title Page (#u491e501b-3106-5621-a338-1a108910c96a)
Copyright (#uddf463cc-9298-565c-ac79-1d918fce5f67)
Note to Readers
Dedication (#u407c5f34-94a7-52c6-a404-afa0a2c69e18)
Prologue (#u93f6d1de-36e4-512e-b508-0a19419364dd)
One (#u580642a8-b66f-5625-b440-e1b72377ba94)
Two (#ue6c48286-d6dc-5f5d-90bf-c70521132f0d)
Three (#ud363f188-cc04-5e13-ad44-45afcad12267)
Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#u80783e21-49d6-57ab-8936-3c37850e4794)
Kellan Blackwood was pissed.
His father, Buckley Blackwood, was dead and gone and yet the old man was still pulling strings. Only Buck could manage that from the grave.
Kel glanced at his brother and sister and silently admitted they didn’t look any happier than he felt. Vaughn’s intense green eyes were narrowed thoughtfully and he was half-sprawled in his chair. Sophie, their baby sister, wore black, and her long auburn hair was pulled back from her pretty face. Her brown eyes were teary, but she still looked as if she were torn between sorrow and anger.
Kel couldn’t blame her. This wasn’t easy on any of them, but there was no way to avoid what was coming. But at least they had each other to lean on. All three of them had had complicated “relationships” with their father. Buck had never been concerned with his kids or what they were doing. So the three of them, as children, had formed a tight bond that held strong today.
Kace LeBlanc, Buck’s lawyer, walked into the office and stopped. “Kel,” he said and nodded. “Vaughn. Sophie. Thanks for coming.”
“Not like we had much choice, Kace.” Vaughn sat up straight and tugged at the edges of his jacket.
“Right.” Kace looked uncomfortable and Kel could understand it. As Buck’s lawyer, Kace knew as well as they did that Buck hadn’t given a good damn about his children—it was his businesses that had demanded his attention.
“Where’s Miranda?” Kace glanced around the room as if expecting her to stand up from behind a chair.
“She hasn’t managed to come downstairs yet,” Kel explained, and his tone said exactly what he thought of the woman who had married and divorced his father.
Miranda Dupree was thirty-six years old. Same age as Kellan. A hell of a thing for your father to marry a woman the same age as his oldest child. But Buck had been a wealthy, lonely old man and she’d swooped in on his checkbook so fast, she’d been nothing but a redheaded blur. Sophie had given Miranda the nickname Step-witch, and Kel had to say it suited the grasping, greedy—
“Hello, everyone.”
Speak of the devil, Kel thought. He stood because his mother had drilled manners into him from the time he was a child. Then he surreptitiously slapped Vaughn’s shoulder to get him on his feet, as well. The one thing Kel couldn’t manage was making his voice sound welcoming. “Miranda. Surprised to see you back in Royal.”
The woman was beautiful, he’d give her that. Bright red hair, brilliant blue eyes and a figure that would bring some men—including his father—to their knees. But when Kel looked at her all he saw was the woman who’d driven another wedge between Buck and his family.
“Buck sent me a letter asking me to be here—along with a few other things.” Miranda gave him a slow smile that he was willing to bet she practiced in front of a mirror. “From what I hear, you’re not here all that often, either, Kellan. You live in Nashville now, don’t you?”
He gritted his teeth to keep what he wanted to say to the woman locked inside. There were plenty of reasons for his move to Nashville several years ago. And not one of them was any of Miranda’s business.
“Why are you even here?” Vaughn demanded. “Not like Buck’s alive enough for you to seduce again.”
“Like I said, Buck wanted me here,” she said simply and took a seat, smoothing her tight black skirt over her thighs. Glancing over to Sophie and ignoring the men, she said, “I’m sorry about your father, Sophie.”
“I am, too,” she said and turned to look at Kace, in effect dismissing Miranda entirely.
“Can everyone just sit down?” Kace asked, his voice cool but clear.
“Yes,” Sophie said, tugging on Vaughn’s hand to get him back in his chair. “Come on, you guys, sit down and let’s get this over with.”
“Right,” Kel agreed. No point in dragging this out. He wanted to settle his business and get out of Royal fast enough that he wouldn’t run into—he cut that thought off because he couldn’t afford to think about her. Not now. Not ever.
He scrubbed one hand across his whiskered jaw and told himself that raking up the past wouldn’t serve anyone.
“Buck wanted all of you present to hear his will,” Kace said from behind Buckley’s desk. Instantly, Kel focused on the present.
“But it won’t take long.” Kace looked at each of them in turn, then zeroed in on Kellan. “I can give you all the legalese or just say it straight. Which do you want?”
Kel gave his siblings a quick look and nodded. They were clearly of a mind with him. He didn’t give a damn what Miranda wanted. So he said, “Just say it, Kace.”
Sympathy shone briefly in Kace’s eyes and Kel knew he wasn’t going to like whatever was coming before the man even said, “Basically, Buck left everything to Miranda.”
“What?” Kellan was up and out of his chair in a blink. Vaughn was just a second or two behind him, and Sophie… Well, she sat there looking stunned as if she’d hit her head.
“You can’t be serious.” Kel glared at Kace.
“Yeah, I am.” Kace didn’t look happy about this. “He knew what he wanted and he laid it all out pretty clearly. And before you ask, your dad was of sound mind, Kellan,” Kace said.
“You call this ‘sound mind’?”
“Legally, yeah,” Kace said. “I know this is hard—”
It was unthinkable. Buckley Blackwood hadn’t been much of a father, but damned if Kellan could understand the old man leaving the family ranch to his ex-wife instead of his children. Slowly, he swiveled his head to stare at her. She didn’t look surprised at all. Now, why was that? Had Kace told her what to expect? Had Buck?
“What the hell, Miranda?”
She shrugged and gave him that smile again. “I don’t know why he did it, Kellan. All I know is he had a letter delivered to me after his death, telling me to be here for the will reading.” She shrugged. “Your father was a generous man.”
Not how Kellan remembered him.
“You know what? I didn’t want his money or his property anyway,” Vaughn said. “I don’t need anything from him at this point. But there is no way Dad would do this,” Vaughn argued, glaring at their ex-stepmother.
“Yeah, well, he did,” Kace said simply.
“He must have hated us,” Sophie whispered.
“No,” Kellan assured her. “He didn’t.” Hell, Buck hadn’t noticed any of them enough to instill any real emotion—love or hate. Besides, no one could hate Sophie. “I don’t know what the hell is going on,” he said, giving Kace a hard glare before turning to Miranda. “But I will find out. For now, all I’ll say is this isn’t over.”
One (#u80783e21-49d6-57ab-8936-3c37850e4794)
Kel was still riding a tidal wave of righteous anger when he pulled up in front of the ranch house. Blackwood Hollow was a six-hundred-acre working ranch but the main building looked like a five-star luxury hotel. Sprawling twin wings spread out across the land and climbed to two stories. Lights shone in every window, making the whole place sparkle in the darkness. And with the white Christmas lights strung along the outline of the ranch house, it looked magical.
It was a mammoth place. His little sister, Sophie, sometimes stayed there, but they’d all gotten into the habit of avoiding Blackwood Hollow because they hadn’t wanted to see Buck. A part of him wondered if that would change now that Buck was gone.
For Kellan, the memories in Royal were too hard, too painful to welcome him back for anything longer than a short visit to see his siblings even if that meant an extra trip into Dallas to see Vaughn.
Frowning, Kel looked past the main house to the guest quarters. Just as luxurious, the stone-and-glass building held four guest suites, a massive great room and a four-car garage.
“And,” he murmured, “not a chance Miranda’s staying there.”
His father’s ex wouldn’t settle for anything less than the big house. Especially now, since she apparently owned it.
Okay, there was the rage again, in a fresh wave that nearly stole his breath. Shaking his head, he got out of his black Range Rover and headed for the main house. A couple of the ranch hands nodded or lifted a hand in greeting, but didn’t try to stop him to chat. Good call.
He was here only because he knew the Step-witch wasn’t. His sister, Sophie, had called him to say that Miranda was in town, shopping. Naturally. When you inherit several billion dollars, you want to spend some of it.
Muttering under his breath, Kellan entered the house, crossed the foyer and walked into the great room. He gave a quick look around, to assure himself she wasn’t there. He hardly noticed the blazing fire in the hearth or the dark brown leather sofas and chairs clustered in conversational groups.
Deliberately, he kept his gaze off the damn Christmas tree in front of the bank of windows overlooking the front yard. It glittered and shone with multicolored lights and ribbons of silver and gold. The scent of pine hung in the air and stirred more memories, whether he wanted them or not. As a kid, he’d loved this house during the Christmas season because his mother had always gone all out on decorating.
The holidays were always opulent at Blackwood Hollow. It was the one tradition even Buck had kept after Kel’s mother and he had divorced. Donna-Leigh had died a few years ago, but here at Blackwood Hollow Kel could still feel her influence. Tiny lights were strung around every window and there were decorated trees in almost every room of the house. The whole place smelled like evergreen, and as the memories rushed into his mind, Kel fought to keep them out.
He reminded himself that almost before the ink on their divorce decree had dried, Buck had married Miranda DuPree and brought her into the house that had been Donna-Leigh’s. So the old man keeping Kel’s mother’s decorating traditions alive didn’t mean squat.
Quickly, he took the stairs to the second story, ignoring the decorated tree on the landing and the twinkling white lights strung along the hallway. He checked the first of the guest rooms. Empty. No sign of anyone staying there. He moved on down the hall, his footsteps muffled on the dark red runner laid out in the center of the gleaming oak floor. Next room. Still nothing. He was down to two now. He didn’t know how long Miranda would be in town, though according to Sophie, the woman was being trailed all through Royal by the camera crew that worked on the ridiculous TV show she was on.
Secret Lives of NYC Ex-Wives.
He snorted. So she’d found a way to make even more money out of her divorce from a rich man. And now her costars and the film crew were in Royal, helping to make the Blackwood family even more of a sideshow.
Pushing those thoughts aside, he hurried. He needed time to go through her things and look for this special letter his father had sent her. He wanted to see for himself what Buck had had to say. How he explained cutting his own children out of their inheritance.
Kel had never had much of a relationship with his father. Buck had always been too busy swooping down on failing companies to buy them out and sell them, adding to his millions. But none of that mattered now. The family legacy, the ranch, the business, should stay in the family. Blackwood Hollow alone was valued at more than $60 million and that wasn’t even counting Blackwood Bank and Buck’s personal fortune.
Why would he leave it all to Miranda? Hell, they’d been divorced for years. Kel needed to know what was going on and the only way to get those answers was to pry them out of Miranda—even if she didn’t know about it.
He opened another door and smiled. Another Christmas tree stood resplendent in front of the windows overlooking the back of the house and the swimming pool. Women’s clothes were strewed across the bed, there was a hairbrush on the dresser and, in spite of the tree, even the air smelled feminine.
In a rush, Kel pushed that thought aside and headed for the closet. It was filled with clothes that he absently noted looked a lot more conservative than what he was used to seeing Miranda wear. He dismissed it when he didn’t find anything and went to the bedside tables. Nothing. Then he hit the dresser where he found drawers of sweaters and shirts and yoga pants. Also very un-Miranda-like. No letters, no papers. Nothing.
“Damn it,” he muttered, reaching for the next drawer. “Where the hell did she put it?”
He tugged on the drawer pull and saw a collection of delicate bras and panties. Black, pink, red, blue—a rainbow of lace and silk. Gritting his teeth, he ran his hand through the silky fabric, tumbling them all, looking for an envelope that wasn’t there. Frustrated, he stopped dead when sounds erupted from the adjoining bathroom. Was she here after all? Was Sophie wrong about Miranda trotting around town spending his father’s money in front of an audience of cameras?
The door opened, steam poured out—and through that misty fog, a woman appeared as if from a dream. It wasn’t Miranda.
It was the one woman Kel hadn’t wanted—or dared—to see again.
Her long strawberry blond hair was damp, lying across her shoulders and draping onto the towel wrapped around what he knew from personal experience was a hell of a body. Her dark green eyes were wide and those long legs of hers were displayed like living temptation.
“Irina Romanov.”
She actually tightened her grip on the towel she wore. “Kellan? What are you doing in my room?”
God, that voice. Husky. Tempting. With just the slightest tinge of a Russian accent. In an instant, he was thrown back in time seven years. It had been Christmas then, too. For a week, the two of them had spent nearly every waking moment in bed together. Or anywhere else they’d found a flat surface. And then he’d realized what he was doing and he’d left Texas—and Irina—behind him.
If he allowed it, even now, he could hear her whispers in the dark. Feel her hands on him. Taste her hard nipples as he slammed his body into hers until they were both screaming with need. That long, unforgettable week had seared his soul and stirred a heart he’d believed dead.
Still clutching that too-small towel to her like a shield, Irina looked him dead in the eye and said, “Get out, Kellan.”
Probably best, he told himself, since at the moment, all he could think about was tearing that towel off her and tossing her onto the bed. Or the floor. Or against the wall. His body didn’t care how he had her—just that he did have her. His dick felt like stone, his breath was caught in his chest and the slow, hard hammer of his heart thundered in his ears.
Kel took a long, deep breath in an attempt to find steadiness. “Fine. I’ll go. But I’m not leaving the house. I’ll be downstairs when you’re dressed.”


The minute he left her room, Irina slammed the door and locked it. Turning around, she leaned back against the solid oak panel and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Her heartbeat was simply out of control, and what felt like dragons were swarming in the pit of her stomach.
She forced air into her lungs and swallowed hard against the rising tide of tears. Why should she cry? She should be outraged. Furious. It had been seven years since he’d walked away, and her first emotion on seeing him again was teary anticipation?
Just like that, the burning in her eyes disappeared and the burn in her heart began. Seeing him again was a shock, even though she’d known he’d come home to Royal after Buck’s death. He had to go to his father’s funeral after all.
Irina had thought she was prepared—more or less—to see him again. She simply hadn’t been ready to greet him while she was stark naked but for a towel. Being naked around Kel was not a good idea. Not with their past. Not with the temptation he presented simply by settling his gaze on her.
He looked good, too. Even better, somehow, than he had so long ago. He wore that elegantly cut suit the way a medieval knight might wear his armor. He was powerful, strong, gorgeous. All things dangerous. His dark brown hair was still kept short—he thought it efficient—and like always, he had a day or two’s growth of beard on his face. The scruff of whiskers reminded her of how that stubble alternately tickled and scratched her skin.
The flash in Kel’s blue eyes had disarmed her. She had read heat there and remembered the fire that had consumed them both whenever they touched. She remembered long nights, with the Christmas tree lights the only illumination in the room. She remembered lazy dawns, wrapped in each other’s arms before she was forced to get up and go to work as a maid in the big house.
In fact, Irina remembered all of it as if that week with him were burned into her brain.
Back then, she’d convinced herself she was living a fairy tale. The oldest son in a dynasty, falling in love with a maid in his father’s house. But the fairy tale ended with a whimper when Kellan left Texas. There were no letters, no calls and, apparently, no regrets. Then Irina was alone again with empty dreams and a broken heart.
She’d long suspected Buck had known about what had gone on between her and his oldest son. The older man had been especially kind to her when Kellan left town. And that kindness—like everything else Buck had done for her—was something she could never repay. It had taken her a long time to find her way again and she had no intention of allowing herself to slide back down into darkness. Kellan was here, but wouldn’t be for long. Her life was in Royal. Her future was one she would build for herself.
“I don’t need Kellan,” she said aloud, more to strengthen her resolve than anything. “I’ve built my own life now. Without him.”
Irina wasn’t the same woman she had been when she and Kellan were together so briefly—and memorably. She’d been to college. She was in law school now and she was a budding author. She’d grown and taken care of herself and she wouldn’t be drawn back into an affair with a man who didn’t value her.
It didn’t matter that one look at him had undone seven years of self-discipline. She could be strong. All she had to do was keep her distance. A few miles would probably do the trick.
“All right,” she said quietly, lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders. “I can do this. Get dressed. Talk to Kellan. And then this time I will be the one to say goodbye.”
Two (#u80783e21-49d6-57ab-8936-3c37850e4794)
Lulu Shepard took a good look at Main Street. She wasn’t ready to admit this on camera yet, but she actually liked Royal, Texas. The people were nice; their hotel, the Bellamy, was luxurious and the town made a nice change from Manhattan. People were so friendly, too. Not like Manhattan, where you could probably bleed from an artery and go unnoticed.
She hadn’t been sure about coming to Royal with Miranda and the rest of the cast of their reality show. But Lulu was really enjoying herself. And she really loved all of the Christmas decorations. Every light pole on the street was wrapped in garland, banners proclaiming Have a Royal Christmas were strung across the street and every tree and shop front was glittering with tiny white lights.
“Afternoon,” a tall cowboy with a wicked smile said as he passed, tipping his hat.
“Well, helloooo.” Lulu turned to admire the man from the rear and had to admit that view was pretty good, too.
Oh, there were so many delicious opportunities to get into a little trouble while they were in Royal. If she and Serafina couldn’t find a way to shake this town up a little, then Lulu didn’t know who could.
She wore a black knit tunic sweater with black tights and black ankle boots with a three-inch heel. Her bright red overcoat swung around her knees with every step and she grinned for no particular reason.
“There’s just something about a small town, don’t you think, Fee?”
Her best friend, Seraphina Martinez, whirled around, letting her long forest green coat swing in the wind. She, too, was wearing New York black, but for her coat. Her long brown hair was perfectly styled and lifted in the wind. Her brown eyes were shining when she smiled. “You know, I didn’t think I’d like it, but I do. It’s sort of like a movie set—only real.” Then she sent a glance at the camera crew following them. “Come on, guys, we’ve got some shopping to do. Let’s show America how small-town Texas lives.”
Lulu laughed and fell into line behind her friend and the other members of the Secret Lives of NYCEx-Wives cast. Zooey Kostas, sweet and vulnerable, was always on the lookout for her next ex. Rafaela Marchesi was never afraid to toss one of her friends under the bus as long as it earned her a few more minutes of screen time. Then there was Seraphina, the take-charge woman in their little group. Fee had a great laugh and a huge heart. And Miranda was the last—sort of a mother-bear kind of woman, which didn’t earn her a lot of time on the show, since as their producer was forever saying, “Scandal sells.”
But when Miranda DuPree had announced she was coming to Royal for a funeral, the powers that be at the network had decided it would be a great idea for the whole cast to go along.
Though she liked Miranda a lot, Lulu hadn’t thought much of the idea at first. Now she couldn’t imagine why. An icy wind lifted a lock of her thick black hair and tossed it across her eyes. She plucked it free, grinned and hurried her steps to catch up with Fee. There were so many new and interesting shops waiting.


Kellan had one hand planted on the mantel and was staring at a blazing fire in the stone hearth when he heard her come into the room. Hell, she moved so quietly maybe he had just sensed her.
He turned to face her and his breath caught in his chest. Seven years since he’d last seen her and every cell in his body was responding to her presence. Time, it seemed, hadn’t cooled off what he felt for her. Damn it.
“What are you doing here, Kellan?”
That voice tugged at his insides and awakened even more memories that had been asleep until that moment. Not good. He’d once walked away from her because he felt he had to. He’d had nothing to offer her then and nothing had changed since. He had to stay cool, keep his distance.
But she was looking at him with a carefully banked fury he’d never seen before. And for some damn reason, that put him on the defensive.
“This is still Blackwood Hollow,” he said tightly. “I’m a Blackwood. I don’t have to explain why I’m in the house I grew up in.”
“You don’t live here anymore,” she reminded him.
Tipping his head to one side, he narrowed his gaze on her. “Yeah. But I didn’t know you were still living here.”
“Not surprising,” she pointed out. “You haven’t been back in this house for seven years.”
A jab, well aimed. Kellan had avoided this house like it was haunted. And maybe, he thought now, it was. Ghosts of his childhood, memories of his mother. But mostly, it was the memories of his week with Irina that plagued him. Being in this house made those ghostly images in his mind more real. More corporeal. As if he could reach out and touch them, bring back those moments in time to relive at his leisure.
His gaze swept her up and down in a blink of an eye, taking in everything, missing nothing. Her long, wavy hair was still damp, but now she wore a loose-fitting yellow jersey shirt with a neckline wide enough to bare her shoulders. At five feet ten inches tall, Irina had legs that were long and shapely, though at the moment they were covered by a pair of gray yoga pants that clung to every inch. Black ballet flats were on her feet.
Kellan’s whole body tensed.
Even dressed casually, Irina was more beautiful than any other woman would have been decked out in diamonds. Heat rushed through him. The sparks in her eyes intrigued him. There was a pride and a self-confidence about her now and he liked it. Irina had once told him that in Russia, she’d been a model, but when he’d known her, she’d been shy, unsure of herself. As if she were lost and hadn’t been able to find her way.
This Irina, strong enough to meet his gaze and lift her chin in defiance, was someone new, and damned if she wasn’t even more attractive.
She crossed her arms over her chest, unconsciously lifting her breasts, making his mouth go dry. “What were you doing in my room? Going through my things?”
“Didn’t know that was your room,” he said shortly. “I thought it was Miranda’s.”
One of her expertly shaped eyebrows lifted and he knew what she was thinking.
“God, no.” He shuddered at the idea of sex with his late father’s ex. Even if it hadn’t been more than a little gross to contemplate sex with his father’s former lover, he wouldn’t have been interested in Miranda. She was too…practiced at seduction. “Trust me,” he said. “It’s not that.”
“All right.” Her arms dropped to her sides. “Then why were you looking for her room?”
He took a deep breath and gritted his teeth. Kellan wasn’t used to explaining himself. Mostly, he did what he wanted when he wanted and screw whoever didn’t like it. Made life easier. Back in the day, Irina never would have confronted him like this. And maybe that was why he was willing to answer her. Damned if he didn’t admire the fire in her eyes. “For something to explain why Buck did what he did. They read his will today and dear old Dad left her everything.”
“Yes, I know. Kace told me earlier today when he came to tell me about the inheritance Buckley left to me.”
Surprise had him speechless for a moment. Kellan never would have imagined Buckley Blackwood even noticing a maid in his house, let alone naming her in his will. Buck hadn’t been exactly known for being a kind soul. He had marched through his life, single-mindedly focused on his business, his fortune.
Finally, he recovered enough to ask, “My father left you something?”
“Is it really so shocking? Your father was very good to me.”
“I know you always thought so.” He shook his head as if denying what he was saying. “But Buck was never described as generous.”
“Fine. Think that if it comforts you.”
“Comforts me?” Kellan stared at her for a long minute. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Never mind.” Irina swung her long hair back over her shoulder and her shirt dipped just a bit lower over her upper arm. “You’ve obviously set your mind on who you believe your father was. I can’t change your mind.”
Maybe Buck was good to Irina, but Kellan couldn’t be budged from his own perspective on his father. Hell, he’d lived it, hadn’t he?
“But you haven’t answered me. Why did you want to look through Miranda’s things?”
Hard to keep his mind on business when he was fantasizing about sliding that shirt all the way off, then—“I heard Buck sent her a letter. I want to see it. Need to know what’s in it.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Of course it’s my business,” he snapped and rubbed one hand across the back of his neck. “I need to know what she knows. I need to understand why Buck left her everything.”
For a long moment, Irina just watched him, and the steady stare from her dark green eyes made him uneasy. For good reason, as it turned out.
“No. I can’t help you, Kellan. And I won’t let you spy on Miranda.”
Irritation flared to life inside him. “You can’t stop me.”
“I can tell her what you did.”
“Letting her know after the fact won’t change anything,” he said quickly.
Even though she was standing between him and what he needed to do, he couldn’t help thinking that it was damned good to see her again. Too good. He should have been past this, Kellan told himself.
He’d stayed away from her deliberately for years, because being close to her and not having her would have killed him. Hell, she was part of the reason he’d moved to Nashville. But even distance from her hadn’t been enough to wipe away the memory of her. She’d still been with him. In his dreams. In those quiet, waking moments when he didn’t have enough to occupy his thoughts.
And every time she popped into his mind—way too often—he shut it down fast. He spent empty nights with other women telling himself that sex with them was just as good as it had been with Irina. Lies he wanted to believe because they made it all that much easier.
But standing here, with her just out of arm’s reach, those lies rushed back to bite him in the ass. So naturally, he buried what he was feeling beneath the anger still riding him since the will reading.
“Since when are you Miranda’s friend?” he asked. “You’re really ready to stand with her against me?”
“And how do I owe loyalty to you? You disappeared, Kellan.”
“I had to.”
“Yes, I’m sure.” She entered the room but walked a wide path around him to do it. She dropped onto a corner of the couch, curled her legs up beneath her and tipped her head to one side to look up at him. “She’s Buck’s guest.”
“Buck’s dead.”
Emotion flashed briefly in her eyes. “I know. But this is his home—”
“And mine,” he added.
“Not for years,” she reminded him. “You walked away, Kellan. From your home. From your family. From Buck. From me.”
And there it was. The past was in the room with them, with its hungry, snapping jaws, not really caring whom it bit into, just wanting the pain. The blood.
He’d known that the minute they saw each other again, they’d have to relive this. He’d have to look at old decisions and would be forced to defend them. He didn’t know that he could.
“I had to leave.” He shoved his hands into his pockets.


Irina looked up at the man around whom she’d once built ridiculous dreams. The oldest son of the man she’d worked for—the man she owed so much. Buck had rescued her. Given her a chance she might never have had otherwise. She’d come to this house broken, to work as a maid, to go to school, to rebuild a life that had been shattered.
Kellan was the man who had touched her in so many ways, he’d left her breathless. She’d trusted him, in spite of everything she’d already been through. She’d believed in him when she shouldn’t have. And then, he’d simply left her.
Seven years ago, they’d had a week together. He’d been wounded. She’d been hurt. And yet, somehow, for that one week, they’d reached beyond themselves and found something she had believed was magical. Stolen time, stolen passion and her silly dreams of something more. Then it was over and she was broken again.
Irina wouldn’t let it happen this time. Wouldn’t let her heart overrun her mind. But even as she thought it, she knew that the reason she’d dropped onto the brown leather sofa was because Kellan still made her legs weak. Her heartbeat was racing and there were tingles of expectation, anticipation, at the core of her. It seemed her body didn’t care what her mind had to say. It only wanted.
Irina looked up at him and deliberately hid everything she was feeling.
“Yes, you had to leave. You said as much to me. Seven years ago.” The leather felt cold and that chill was seeping inside her. “You said a lot of things. I remember.”
Kellan nodded. “Yeah, I do, too. I didn’t want to hurt you, Irina.”
Her gaze locked on him and she drew a long, shallow breath. Irina didn’t want to talk about any of it, either. Didn’t want to remember the sound of his voice saying, I can’t be what you want. Or, This isn’t real, Irina. It can’t be. I won’t let it be. So she swallowed hard and hid what she was feeling. “You may not have wanted to, but you did. Still, that’s not why you’re here now, is it?”
“No,” he said, inclining his head slightly. “It’s not.” He braced his feed wide apart, as if preparing for a battle. “Tell me this. How long is Miranda staying in Royal?”
She shrugged as if indifferent. “I don’t really know. She’s made no plans to leave as far as I know.”
“Of course she hasn’t,” he muttered, pushing one hand through his short, neat hair. “Why would she? Has the run of this house, all the money Buck left her and plenty of time to cause more trouble.”
Miranda had always seemed like a nice woman to Irina. In fact, they’d bonded some over a shared past of heartbreak and mistrust. And seeing how Buck’s grown children had treated Miranda had guaranteed that Irina would stand up for her. Since she’d once been an underdog herself, she would always stand up for people she thought were being bullied.
“What exactly, apart from her marrying and divorcing your father,” Irina asked, “do you have against her?”
“Isn’t that enough?”
“No.” Love died. Marriages ended. She’d lived it herself and usually there was more than one person to blame for it.
“It is for me,” he countered. “She’s got no rights here as far as I’m concerned.”
Shaking her head, Irina watched him. “Then it’s good it’s not up to you.”
“What the hell, Irina? I don’t understand this,” he admitted. “You were always more loyal to Buck than he deserved, so why would you switch that loyalty to Miranda?”
“And you were always harder on Buck than he deserved. Your father was more than you think he was.”
“I don’t believe it,” he snapped. “And that doesn’t answer the question. Why are you being so damn protective of Miranda of all people?”
Because, Irina thought, she understood Buck’s ex-wife. She knew what it was to be called a gold digger. Knew what it was to love and lose. Knew how hard it was to start over. To rebuild your life. How could Irina not stand by Miranda, when Buck had stood by her?
“It was your father’s fortune to do with as he pleased. Why do you get to say that he can’t leave Miranda everything?” Forcing herself to her feet, Irina locked her traitorous knees so they wouldn’t wobble on her again and tipped her head back to stare up at him. Looking into those lake-blue eyes of his sent tendrils of heat spiraling through her, but Irina did her best to ignore them. “I am being loyal to Buck. To his wishes.”
He slowly shook his head and watched her curiously. “What the hell did he ever do for you?”
Everything, she thought but didn’t say. Buckley Blackwood had played guardian angel to a lot of people and he’d insisted on remaining anonymous. So no one—not even his children—knew what a good man he really had been. But Irina would never forget.
“That’s none of your business, Kellan. You walked away. You don’t get to show up seven years later and demand answers to anything.”
He huffed out a breath and took a step closer. Irina steeled herself because she could smell his cologne. That same wild, spicy scent that seemed to chase her through sleepless nights. His jaw was clenched, his eyes snapping with sparks of frustration, and tension practically radiated from him in thick waves.
She felt that same tension pulsing inside her and she hated it. He’d once had so much power over her. One look from him turned her body into a molten puddle of need. One touch and she was burning. Orgasms with Kellan were more than she would have thought possible.
But strangely, what she missed most was lying in the circle of his arms, darkness all around them, while they talked and laughed together. That closeness, that intimacy, had meant everything to her and had hurt her the most when it was gone.
“I used to admire that hard head of yours,” he said, his voice lower, more intimate.
Now it was more than her knees that were feeling weak. Everything in her yearned. A slow burn started deep inside and bubbled in her bloodstream. This was dangerous. A temptation to go back rather than forward. She’d fought hard to reclaim her life, her heart, her mind after Kellan left. Irina couldn’t let herself be swept into another temporary liaison. And with Kellan, she knew it would be nothing but temporary.
“Kellan…” Warning? Invitation? Even Irina didn’t know for sure.
“You’re still so damn beautiful,” he murmured.
And he was still enticing.
“I think I’m going to kiss you,” he said, one eyebrow quirking. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Say yes. Say yes. Say yes.
“No,” she whispered.
So he did and the first touch of his lips to hers set that slow burn free and turned it into a wildfire deep within her body. She remembered that fire so well. She welcomed the flames, though she knew she shouldn’t. Irina was helpless to stop herself. Kellan had always had this effect on her and seven years hadn’t changed a thing.
His hands came down onto her shoulders and pulled her toward him. She kept her mouth on his as her arms snaked around his waist. The feel of him pressed against her made her body ache. An aching, molten heat settled in her core and left her hungry for so much more than a kiss.
His tongue swept into her mouth and tangled with hers. She tightened her hold on him, and met him stroke for stroke, need for need. The kiss awakened her from a years-long sleep and the awakening was almost painful. Her body hummed with anticipation. Her mind clouded over with too many sensations rising and falling to make sense of any of them. Her breath caught in her chest as she gave herself up to the wonder of the fire even while a small voice within shouted at her to be careful. To step back. To remember that though his touch was magical, he wasn’t staying this time, either.
And that thought was finally enough to penetrate the fog in her brain. To push past what he made her feel long enough that she could remind herself that only pain waited for her if she let this go on.
Irina pulled back, shaking her head as much to convince herself as him. She took a deep breath to steady herself and met his gaze, no matter what it cost her to look into those blue eyes again. “We shouldn’t have done that.”
He scrubbed one hand across his face, then the back of his neck. His breath came hard and fast so she knew he’d been as affected as she had been. Small comfort, she supposed.
Nodding, he said, “Right. Mistake.” His gaze locked on hers, he added, “A good one.”
Her stomach jumped. “No, it wasn’t.”
“Liar.”
Her heart jittered.
“Fine. It felt good. But then, chemistry was never our problem,” she said, remembering. God, how she remembered what happened when they were together.
“No. It wasn’t.” He stepped back from her as if he didn’t quite trust himself not to reach for her again.
And Irina didn’t know if she was sad about that or grateful.
“I couldn’t stay back then, Irina,” he was saying. “There were too many memories in Royal. Too much pain.”
She knew that. He’d lost his wife a year before he and Irina got together. So he’d come to her, a widower with a broken heart and a shattered soul, and for a very short while, they’d healed each other.
“So you left and shared the pain.”
His head snapped up and his gaze fixed on hers. “That wasn’t my intention.”
“And yet it’s what you did.”
Clearly irritated, he pushed one hand through his hair. “I didn’t come here tonight to argue with you.”
“No,” she said. “You came here to spy on Miranda.”
“I want answers,” he countered.
“Get them another way.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I hope Miranda appreciates how you’re defending her.”
“I’m not doing this for her,” Irina said. “Or not just for her. I’m doing this mainly for your father. Buck wrote his will. It laid out his wishes. Kellan, you don’t get to disregard them simply because you don’t like them.”
“Man, I hope Buck appreciated the tiger he had defending him.”
A small smile curved her mouth briefly. “He did.”
Nodding, Kellan studied her for a long minute. “I’m not going to let this go.”
“I didn’t think you would,” she said. “But you should. And, Kellan, you should know that Buck loved you. Loved all of you.”
“Please.” He snorted dismissively and waved one hand at her as if erasing her words entirely.
“He did.”
“And he proved that by leaving our family legacy to a woman he chose to not stay married to?”
“I don’t know why he did that,” Irina admitted. “But I always trusted Buck.”
“There’s the difference between us, then,” Kellan said softly, his gaze locked with hers. “I never trusted my father. And I won’t start now.”
“So you’re not going back to Nashville?” She had hoped that after the funeral and the reading of the will that Kellan would once again leave Royal.
“Not a chance,” he promised. “I’m not going anywhere until this whole situation is settled.” He turned on his heel and headed for the front door. He paused only briefly to look back at her. When their eyes met, he said, “You haven’t seen the last of me, Irina.”
That sounded like a promise, too, and she hated that she was pleased by it.


“How’d the big spy operation go?”
Kellan glanced over his shoulder at his younger brother as Vaughn walked into the great room and dropped onto the closest sofa. Since Vaughn lived in Dallas now, he was staying at their mother’s friend Dixie’s ranch, Magnolia Acres. Since Kellan was in Royal for a while, though, Vaughn was dropping in and out. It was good to spend real time with his brother and sister instead of the quick visits he usually made. The only time Kellan stayed at his ranch himself was when he came back to Royal to see his brother and sister. Now he was rethinking the whole drop-in-anytime thing.
Scowling, Kellan said, “As well as you said it would.”
Vaughn laughed shortly. “It was a crappy plan, Kel. Face it. Storm Dad’s house, snoop through Miranda’s stuff?”
Kellan stalked to the wet bar in the corner of the room. Bending down, he opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. “You want one?”
“Hell yes.”
Kellan crossed the room again, handed a beer to his brother and then took a seat opposite him. “I never got to go through her things. Irina was there and stopped me.”
Vaughn’s eyebrows lifted. “Interesting,” he mused. “I didn’t know anyone could stop you once you had your decision made.”
Kellan took a swig of beer and avoided looking at Vaughn. His brother was entirely too perceptive. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Uh-huh. So, how’s Irina?”
Now he did fire a hard look at his brother. “She’s fine.”
“Better than fine, if you ask me,” Vaughn said with a small smile. “We both saw her at the service, and gotta say, she’s still hot.”
“Hot?”
“I’m not blind, Kel. Even if you are.”
“I’m not blind, either,” he snapped and took another hard pull of his beer.
“Good to know.” Vaughn sat up and braced his elbows on his knees. “So you going to do anything about it?”
The taste of Irina rose up in his mind. The feel of her body pressed to his. Her breath on his cheek. The scent of her hair. The silk of her skin. He took another drink of his beer and let the icy brew dampen the fires inside. He really didn’t need his brother poking at him over Irina when his own mind and body were doing just fine on that front. “What the hell, Vaughn?”
He held up one hand. “Fine. I’ll back off.”
“Thank you.”
“But,” he added, and Kellan frowned at him, “all those years ago, you two had something.”
“How do you know?”
“Everybody knew.”
So much for a secret affair. “It was a long time ago.”
“True. But according to gossip and our baby sister, Irina’s still single. So are you.”
Kellan’s gaze narrowed. “I’m not looking, Vaughn.”
“Because of Shea?” Vaughn’s voice was a whisper.
Kellan shot off the couch like he was on a spring. It had been eight years since his wife had died in that car accident. Eight years and he still didn’t want to think about that day. Remember the staggering loss. Remember that touching Irina only a year after that loss had made him feel like a damn cheat. “Don’t talk about her.”
“A lot of rules,” his brother said softly. “No talk of Irina. Shea, either. What am I allowed to say to you?”
“How about good-night?” Kellan snapped. “Or even better, I’m headed back to Magnolia Acres. Or even better, Dallas.”
Vaughn laughed. “Yeah, not happening. I’m here for a couple more days. Have some friends I want to see while I’m in Royal. Now that the services and the will reading are done, I’m free.”
“Why are you not pissed?” Kellan demanded suddenly. “About Dad leaving everything to Miranda? Why isn’t that burning your ass?”
Vaughn’s features smoothed out into a blank slate. Only his eyes flashed to let Kellan know he wasn’t as disinterested as he was pretending to be. “Because I don’t want Buck’s money. I made my own way with no help from our father. It’s too damn late for him to do anything for me. So let Miranda have it. I hope she chokes on it.”
“I call bull.” Kellan pointed his beer at Vaughn. “Maybe you don’t want the money, but I know losing Blackwood Hollow to that woman has to be eating at you. That’s family land, Vaughn. It’s our land. Our ranch. Our damned legacy.”
Studying his own beer, Vaughn was silent for a long minute or two. Finally, though, he said, “Being pissed won’t change anything, Kel. So accept the fact that our dad was a dick and move the hell on already.”
“No.”
Vaughn gave another short laugh and lifted his beer in a toast. “Fine. You go ahead. Charge into the dragon’s den and try to come out with the magic sword or whatever. But don’t expect me to help you do it.”
Kellan said, “Just don’t get in my way.”
“Deal.” Vaughn turned for the door. “Now, I’m going to Dixie’s place. I’m too tired to keep jousting with you. Good luck on your next caper, 007.”
Life, Kellan thought, might have been a lot easier if he’d been an only child.


The next morning, Kellan was working at his ranch, wearing some jeans, a dark green flannel shirt and a heavy brown leather jacket. His old boots were scuffed and worn, and stepping into them made him feel complete somehow. You could take a man off the ranch, dress him in a suit and toss him into a city, but it seemed you couldn’t take the Texas out of him.
He was tired, though. The argument with Vaughn bothered him, but it was that kiss with Irina that had kept him awake most of the night. He’d played it over and over in his head for hours, like a damn movie on constant rewind and replay. He hadn’t been able to turn it off. To ignore what seeing her again, touching her again, had done to his body. So a night of self-imposed torture left him squinting into the early-morning sunlight and wishing for more coffee.
Standing on the wide front porch in the cold, blustery wind, he scanned the property he’d purchased five years ago. He should probably rent it out, but the truth was, it was nice to have his own place to stay in when he was in Royal. He had a great foreman, who took care of the place while Kellan lived in Nashville, and, as an investment, the ranch couldn’t be better. The land itself was worth almost twice as much as it had been when he’d bought it and that wasn’t even counting the value of the palatial ranch house and outbuildings. Not to mention the stock—thousands of heads of cattle and horses.
But he hadn’t bought it for its financial worth. Instead, it was a touchstone of sorts. A reminder that though staying in Royal had been too much for him seven years ago, this corner of Texas was still his home. His roots ran deep here. The Blackwoods had been in this area for more than a hundred years.
Which was just one more reason why he wasn’t about to give up his family legacy to a gold digger. Just the thought of Miranda DuPree made his hackles rise and had him grinding his teeth together so hard, he was half-surprised they didn’t shatter. He’d thought Miranda was out of their lives when she and Buck divorced—and now she was back, worse than ever. “What the hell was Buck thinking?”
When a bright red Jeep zipped up the drive and came to a screeching halt almost directly in front of him, Kellan smiled in spite of the dark thoughts tumbling through his mind. His baby sister hopped out of the car and shivered in the cold wind.
“Hi, Kel,” Sophie said as she tugged her black jacket tighter around her.
People didn’t usually think of Texas as cold-weather country. But winters could be harsh and even though snow was rare, the icy wind could cut like a knife.
“What’re you doing here so early?”
She waved one hand, smiled, and Kellan realized what a beauty his sister had become. Just an inch or so shorter than Irina, Sophie had long auburn hair, brown eyes and a curvy body that Kellan really didn’t want to acknowledge. As far as he was concerned, there was no man good enough for Sophie—so she should just be alone. If they were Catholic, he’d be voting for a convent.
“I’ve got a ten o’clock appointment at the Courtyard. My client wants to look at the antiques at Priceless.”
Sophie, at only twenty-seven, ran a popular YouTube channel on style, was a licensed interior decorator and had her own shop in Royal. And as a designer, of course she would love shopping at the Courtyard. The place had grown from a single rehabbed barn housing antiques into a series of eclectic businesses, including a few artisans and cafés.
“I saw Vaughn at the diner having coffee and he told me you’d be up and moving because when he left here last night, you were too wired to sleep.”
“Our brother’s got a big mouth,” Kellan muttered. “What’s up, Sophie?”
She sighed and flipped her hair out of her face when the wind gusted. “I couldn’t sleep last night, either. I kept thinking about the will and Miranda and us, and I guess I just wanted to talk to you. See what you think about all of it.”
He scowled and tugged his hat down firmer on his head. “I think I’m going to be going into town to talk to Kace later today. See if I can find a way to fight this will.”
“Okay, but what if he says there isn’t one?”
“Then we fight anyway,” Kellan said tightly. “Damned if we just hand over our home to Miranda.”
She nodded and smiled. “Okay, good. Because I was thinking maybe I could snoop around a little. Talk to people. See if anyone knows anything about Miranda. Gossip in Royal lives forever. Plus, I know Miranda’s come back to town more than a few times since the divorce. I mean, you and Vaughn and I, we haven’t really been spending any time at the house in years.”
True. They’d all avoided the house because they were busy avoiding Buck. Kellan lived in Nashville now, Sophie had her own house in Pine Valley and Vaughn was in Dallas these days.
“Maybe,” she continued, “there’s a reason behind Dad doing this to us. And maybe I can help find it.”
Three (#u80783e21-49d6-57ab-8936-3c37850e4794)
Kellan looked into her eyes and saw the worry and the hurt there, and if he could, he would have reached beyond the grave to grab his father and curse him for giving Sophie pain. He knew she wanted to help him find answers and, hell, maybe she could. Women talked more easily to other women. If she could pry some secrets loose, it might give them something to use against Miranda.
“Sounds good,” he said and saw the flash of pleasure in her eyes. “Where are you going to start?”
“After my appointment, I thought I’d go to the ranch and talk to Irina.”
“No.” The one word shot from him before he could hold it back.
“Why not?”
Good question. The answer wasn’t something he wanted to share. Kellan didn’t want to risk his sister and his former lover having a private chat. God knows what Irina would have to say about him. He certainly hadn’t given her any reason to speak well about him.
“I’m going to the house later today.” That hadn’t been the plan, but plans change. “So I’ll take care of talking to Irina. Why don’t you speak to some of Miranda’s friends in town? Maybe some of the women she dragged here with her from New York.”
Sophie frowned thoughtfully. “That’s probably a good idea. I mean, she went to New York after the divorce, she probably had plenty to say about Dad when their breakup was fresh.”
It actually was a good idea. Then he had another one. If their little sister talked to Vaughn about all of this, maybe he’d change his mind. “Okay, then. And why don’t you give Vaughn a call? Tell him what we’re up to.”
“Oh, he won’t be interested.” Sophie shrugged. “Soon enough, he’ll be back in Dallas running his company. He said he doesn’t give a damn what Miranda does with her inheritance. It has nothing to do with him.”
So much for that. In a way, Kel understood the attitude. His brother had built his own fortune at Blackwood Energy Corp., so he didn’t need Buck’s money. But hell, neither did Kel. It was the damn principle of the thing that motivated Kellan. And he wished Vaughn would stick around long enough to stand with his siblings.
“Okay, then, for now, it’s you and me, baby sister.” He reached out with one arm and pulled her into a hug. She held him tight, then let go.
“I’ll let you know if I find out anything and you tell me if Irina has anything to say, okay?”
“Sure.” Nodding, he watched her hop back into her car. “And drive slower, will you?”
“Nope!” She grinned, slammed the door and gunned the engine. Whipping the red car around, she peeled off down the drive, leaving a fan of spun gravel in her wake.
“Damn it.” Sophie always drove too fast. As a teenager, she’d had her license pulled first by Buck and then by Sheriff Battle. And that hadn’t stopped her. The last time Kellan had been in town, Nathan Battle had told him that Sophie’s speeding tickets alone were paying for the remodel of the sheriff’s station.
Pushing that thought out of his mind, Kellan headed for the stables. What he needed was some hard work. Work that would keep his hands busy and free his mind to think about what his next step would be.
Though he already knew the answer.
He had to see Irina again.


“I’m meeting my friends in Royal for lunch,” Miranda said. “I’ve told them all about the Royal Diner for years and now they want to try it out in person. Would you like to join us?”
Miranda had been in Royal since a couple of days before the will reading, and in that time she and Irina had become friends. When Miranda was still married to Buck, the two women hadn’t really bonded. Irina was more shy back then, too. Less sure of herself. They actually had more in common than she would have thought. They were both divorced—though their situations were wildly different. They were both rebuilding their lives. And they both knew hidden truths about Buckley Blackwood. Each of them, in their own ways, owed Buck a lot.
It was good to be able to talk about the older man with someone who understood. Almost no one in Royal knew the real Buck.
In business, Buck had been ruthless, determined and unstoppable. But in private, the man had helped more people than anyone would guess. It really irritated Irina that his own children were clueless about that side of Buck. But she’d once promised him that she’d keep his secrets. Just because he was dead didn’t give her permission to talk. Did it?
“Thank you, Miranda,” she said. “I really appreciate it. But I think I’m going to work on my book this morning. I’d like to finish the chapter at least.”
She was so close to finishing the book she’d been driven to write. Her own personal background story was one she thought a lot of women could connect to. Maybe not the particulars of her experience, but the spirit of the story. Picking yourself up and starting over would be a clarion call to those who might be feeling hopeless.
And an agent and a publisher had believed in her, too. She’d sold her book six months ago and it was still a thrill to her. Soon, she’d be a published author and then an immigration lawyer, and her own American dream story would be complete.
Or as complete as it could be without the man she’d once believed to be the love of her life.
Miranda smiled and nodded. “I get it. And I know Buck was proud of you for everything you’ve accomplished.”
“Thank you,” she said. “That means a lot.”
“And,” Miranda added as she picked up her bag, “if you’re willing, I’d love to read some of your book.”
Irina almost choked. She hadn’t expected that rush of wild panic. Someone wanted to read what she’d written? Why was that terrifying? Soon it would be out on shelves and hopefully a lot of people would want to read it. But this was different. This was someone she knew. Yes, she’d submitted it to an agent and publisher, but that was business. Letting someone she knew and liked read it was something different.
Miranda laughed. “Okay, never mind. I can see how unnerved you are at the idea.”
“No,” Irina said, taking a step forward as she got a firm grip on the swirls of what felt like eagles in her stomach. Then she sighed. “All right, yes, I’m a little nervous at the thought. But I really would love for you to read the first chapter and tell me what you think.”
It sounded terrifying, of course. But one day soon, everyone in Royal would see it, buy it, read it. It might be a good thing to get an idea of what people would think ahead of time.
“Great!” Miranda gave her a quick hug. “I’m sure it’s wonderful, so don’t look so worried.”
Irina laughed a little. “I think worrying is what I do best.”
Smiling, Miranda said, “I’ll see you tonight. And remember, you’re not a maid here anymore, Irina. You’re a guest.”
Technically. But Miranda now owned the lovely house and Irina was Buck’s guest, not hers. So she would pitch in and help out as much as she could.
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” She gave a look around the great room, with its plush but homey atmosphere, and at the Christmas tree, which she personally decorated every year. “But I’ve worked here for more than seven years now. While I’m here, I’ll continue to help the housekeeper.”
Miranda studied her for a long moment. “I get that. You don’t want to be beholden to anyone. You need to steer your own path. Pay your own way.”
“Yes,” Irina said.
“You know, I think you and I are very much alike.”
Irina smiled. She’d had the same thought. “Have a good time.”
“Right.” Miranda headed for the front door. “I’ll see you later.”
Alone, Irina thought about their conversation. About the secrets she held. About promises made and about Kellan, still holding so much anger for his late father. And she made a decision.
Working on the book would have to wait. First, she had to see Kellan. Tell him things he should know.


The diner was kitschy, with the decor set firmly in the fifties—black-and-white tile floor, red faux leather booths and an actual jukebox on one wall. Lulu was charmed. The waitresses seemed to know everyone in there and the camera crew following Lulu and her friends didn’t intimidate anyone. Instead, the locals were interested, excited even.
Except for one man.
Of course, he was gorgeous. His brown eyes were flashing with irritation and his rumpled dark brown hair was a little too long. The collar of his dress shirt was unbuttoned and his dark red tie loosened. He had a sheaf of papers spread out over the table in front of him and a cup of coffee at his elbow. The hostile looks he was shooting everyone involved in her reality show left no doubt what he thought of any of them.
Well, if he wanted privacy to work, Lulu told herself, he shouldn’t have come to a diner. The scowl on his face seemed to be a permanent fixture and she wondered idly why she found that appealing. A man that inherently cranky shouldn’t be so attractive. But he certainly was. He sipped his coffee, made a note on one of the papers and then frowned again at her group and the camera crew.
Fee and the rest of the girls were oblivious, joking together about another day of shopping or perhaps a spa day at the Bellamy, where they were all staying. But Lulu couldn’t stop watching him. So she was aware when Miranda came into the diner and stopped at his table. Briefly, the scowl on his face lifted and she wondered how Miranda had managed that small miracle. While they talked, Lulu scooted out of the booth and walked up to join them. She heard her friend saying something about Buck’s will, but she missed the context because both people got quiet as soon as she arrived.
“Hi, Miranda.” She smiled at her friend, then sent a deliberate wink at the crabby man frowning at her.
“Lulu!” Miranda gave her a hug and grinned. “Did you guys have another fabulous morning of shopping?”
“We did. It was wonderful. We went back to the Courtyard shops.” They’d all enjoyed it so much the day before, they’d returned to hit the stores they’d missed on their first visit.
“And your camera crew loved it, too?” the man asked snidely, inserting himself into the conversation. “Get every little purchase covered, did they? Want to make sure America sees you spending your exes’ money.”
“I’m sorry?” she asked, pointedly meeting his less-than-friendly stare.
“That would be nice, but I doubt you are,” he said.
“Um,” Miranda interrupted, confusion written plainly on her features. “Lulu Shepard, this is my ex-husband’s lawyer, Kace LeBlanc. Kace, Lulu.”
“A lawyer,” Lulu said with feigned, over-the-top sorrow. “That explains it.”

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