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Entangled With The Heiress
Dani Wade


While gaining the heiress’s trust …will he lose all self-control? Hired to go undercover and discredit the widow of a millionaire philanthropist, investigator Rhett Bannon is torn.  Trinity Hyatt doesn’t fit his preconceptions of a gold-digger.  But Trinity’s definitely hiding something—something that only seduction will reveal!







He has ulterior motives…

but so does she.

While gaining the heiress’s trust,

will he lose all self-control?

Hired to go undercover and discredit the widow of a millionaire philanthropist, investigator Rhett Brannon is torn. With her vulnerability and dedication to her late husband’s legacy, Trinity Hyatt doesn’t fit his preconceptions of a gold digger. Even so, Rhett is determined to get to the truth behind her intentions. But will his growing attraction to Trinity destroy everything they’re both fighting for?


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 clamour for attention in the midst of the chaos that is her life. Residing in the southern United States with her husband, two kids, two dogs and one grumpy cat, she stays busy until she can closet herself away with her characters once more.


Also by Dani Wade (#ue2e79cc3-5d24-5645-90ef-481460e2ccb4)

Milltown Millionaires

A Bride’s Tangled Vows

The Blackstone Heir

The Renegade Returns

Expecting His Secret Heir

Savannah Sisters

Taming the Billionaire

Son of Scandal

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).


Entangled with the Heiress

Dani Wade






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


ISBN: 978-0-008-90411-1

ENTANGLED WITH THE HEIRESS

© 2020 Katherine Worsham

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




Note to Readers (#ue2e79cc3-5d24-5645-90ef-481460e2ccb4)


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This book is dedicated to my daughter, Nicole,

who is finding her purpose and passions in life

just like Trinity. I’m proud of the woman you have

become, but you’ll always be my little curly-headed

“baby girl.” Go forth and conquer!


Contents

Cover (#u4efb5dcc-7462-54f4-bb3c-9b7ef760e181)

Back Cover Text (#udef7c3b6-9829-59af-bcd6-ce49b3b6d2c8)

About the Author (#u92d39df5-864d-5db0-a2b0-42b79859244b)

Booklist (#uf00b0658-86fb-5971-8f13-81bb97445beb)

Title Page (#u34f081e3-fbfa-552a-a969-226400318bee)

Copyright (#u070a3891-2a73-52a2-9de0-2494c4f97f99)

Note to Readers

Dedication (#u81733a93-61d7-5d34-b39b-6df27f296da6)

One (#u47b84c1a-6a3d-5056-8b2b-24e23cc4c093)

Two (#uf25355c3-583e-5679-939e-5ec77b1ecd16)

Three (#uca5b1398-b2a7-5473-b06a-22905e2fab50)

Four (#u2e2a77f8-bfe7-5bf4-b049-587a22fff3c9)

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)

Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)


One (#ue2e79cc3-5d24-5645-90ef-481460e2ccb4)

Trinity Hyatt walked down the museum hallway, keeping her steps light on the tile floor as if she were a child trying to sneak past her parents. As if the sound of the gala from the west wing wouldn’t cover her brief getaway.

She just needed a moment, a moment away from the speculative gazes and prying questions. A moment to breathe…

But then she thought back to the headline she’d seen when she turned on her computer this morning.

Suspicious Marriage Threatens

Local Jobs

That damn blogger… Her mother had drilled into her growing up that using profanity was only for the uneducated, but Trinity had found its occasional use more than satisfying as an adult. Since the mental slip was the only form of anger Trinity allowed herself, she hoped her mother forgave her this time.

Didn’t the anonymous columnist understand how much words hurt? Not to mention how the photograph that accompanied the story made Trinity relive the moment standing beside Michael’s grave as half the country watched and ultimately judged her. Why couldn’t her online tormentor see the grief on her face? Why couldn’t this person tell her tears were genuine?

Trinity locked away the memories of the painful whispering and curious stares during tonight’s charity gala, brought on by today’s post. Instead she tried to focus on her momentary solitude in one of her favorite places in New Orleans.

So many memories from the familiar hallways of the ASTRA Museum flitted through her overtaxed mind, bringing a welcome peace. She remembered holding her mother’s hand as they walked in the blessed quiet, without worry over someone yelling at them or telling them to leave because they didn’t fit in because they were too poor. The museum had been open without cost every Saturday. They’d often made the trip across town on the bus to spend a few hours away from her screaming father, looking at the paintings and sculptures, appreciating the beauty that drew them even though they knew nothing about art.

Later, Michael had wandered these halls with her, filling her mind with stories of the artists and the sometimes harrowing journeys the pieces went through before coming to be displayed in the Southern United States.

They were both gone now, to Trinity’s never-ending grief. But she tucked it down inside and locked it away, because Michael had left her with a very important job to do. And she would. She would step back out into the charity event with her head high and represent her best friend and everything he’d worked so hard to build.

But for just a moment, she needed peace and calm to surround her.

A twinge of guilt stole through her as she reflected on her husband…though it was still hard to think of him as such. Ten years her senior, Michael Hyatt had been her friend and mentor of sorts for a long time. Then they’d barely been married a week. She had trouble accepting that he was gone, though the explosive crash of his private helicopter had taken him from her just a little over six weeks ago.

The ache he’d left behind weighed on her day and night.

Coming to a standstill in front of a hundred-year-old painting of a peasant woman holding her infant son, Trinity stared at the muted colors. Her vision blurred, the familiar details disappearing as her brain simply drifted. Even the ache this particular portrait always evoked inside her remained subdued. Children were another part of her life to be mourned, and she didn’t want to handle that tonight.

When her eyes felt too full, she let her lids close, ignoring the solitary tear that flowed down her cheek.

“She looks happy… At peace, wouldn’t you say? Despite what must be hard life circumstances.”

Startled to hear an echo of her own past thoughts on this particular painting, Trinity turned. She hadn’t heard anyone approach. But the man now standing beside her took her very breath away.

His dark hair had a touch of premature silver at each temple. The color echoed the cool gray of his irises, which had subtle green striations. His bearing was distinguished enough that he fit into the elegant surroundings of the museum, but he didn’t have the soft edges that a lifetime of high living gave many men in this world. Head and shoulders taller than her own average height, he left Trinity feeling dwarfed. He filled out his tux just enough to hint at muscle without too much bulk.

His gaze dropped to her cheek, leaving Trinity uncomfortably aware of the cool air over her moist skin. As casually as she could manage, she wiped the tear away. He didn’t mention what he’d seen.

The very look of him mesmerized her even more than the paintings. An embarrassingly long moment drew out before she could force herself to breathe in a long drink of air, then she offered a small nod. “Yes, I’ve always thought so.”

For the briefest instant, a surprised expression crossed his features. She noticed a faint lifting of one dark brow, so quick she wondered if it had even happened.

Trinity stiffened. The question of whether or not he was a reporter hadn’t occurred to her, but having seen that same expression on the faces of the people who hounded her day in and day out, she couldn’t help but wonder. Had he followed her here on purpose?

Having swallowed the story that she’d been raised in a rural, strictly religious household, most press hounds didn’t expect her to speak with a cultured accent or intelligent words. After all, she had to be a money-hungry hick to have come from obscurity to inherit the entire Hyatt fortune. It was the very image that Michael’s family had painted of her.

That idea sold more stories, more of the candid pictures they hunted her down for. They didn’t want to look for the truth, the deeper truth of who she was, of what she’d survived.

But the man’s expression disappeared so quickly that Trinity wondered if she was just being paranoid because of her current situation. Now his cool gaze trailed down her sapphire gown, one of the few Michael had personally picked out for her. For once, Trinity wasn’t left feeling vulnerable and exposed. Instead a small wave of unexpected heat flowed over her.

“Needed a little breather from the party?” he asked quietly.

Though it was probably a banal piece of small talk, Trinity was shaken at how much it echoed her own thoughts. She tried to brush it off. “These things do tend to get a little stuffy at times.”

“I agree. In many ways.”

Goodness, that grin reached all the way to the core of her. Something Trinity had never experienced before…and wasn’t really comfortable experiencing now.

To her relief, his gaze moved past her to the elaborate cream-and-gold walls of the rotunda, pausing at each of the twelve specially chosen pieces displayed permanently within this space. “This isn’t just peaceful. It’s unique. Gorgeous,” he said, his voice deepening in a way that sent a tingle down her spine.

What was wrong with her tonight?

“You’ve never been here before?” she asked to fill the silence.

Part of her was resentful that this man, and the sensations he seemed to be calling to the surface, had interrupted her time in this special space. The other part of her couldn’t quell the fascination that kept popping up in unexpected, uninvited ways.

I’m a widow, dang it. A recent one.

Unaware of her inner turmoil, the man answered, “No. This is my first time. My first time in New Orleans, actually.” He held out a hand. “I’m Rhett Butler. Nice to meet you.”

Trinity felt her mouth drop open in a most unladylike way. “Seriously?”

“No,” he said, flashing another hundred-watt smile, “actually my name is Rhett Brannon. But when in the South…”

Stinker. “That’s good. I was beginning to think your parents had a strange sense of humor.” Not that his dark good looks and riveting charisma wouldn’t allow him to double for Rhett Butler.

Something deep inside warned her not to make nice. The outstretched hand reminded her of a snake she knew was dangerous. It caused a combination of fascination and fear in her suspicious brain. She couldn’t risk one misstep in the game Michael had begged her to play.

She stretched her hand out and politely shook. “Thank you. I’m Trinity, Trinity—Hyatt.”

Her hesitation was automatic. Even after almost two months, she had a hard time grasping that her last name had changed, that there was now a paramount need to present herself as Michael’s wife. He had counted on her. The charity counted on her. She had to do the right thing.

“Trinity, huh?” Rhett said, not showing any recognition of who she was. Was he simply a good actor? Or did he really not know? “That’s an interesting name, too.”

Definitely. “My mother was highly religious.” She let a small smile stretch her lips. “I’ve always wondered if it was a reminder to me. To never forget the Father, Son and Holy Ghost.”

“And have you?”

She was startled enough to answer honestly. “Some days are easier than others.”

The rueful grin that stretched his lips fascinated her more than it should have. “I can agree with that,” he said.

A small silence fell, bringing with it that uncomfortable sense of awareness of his masculinity and presence. It only eased a little as he motioned for them to stroll farther around the rotunda.

At least she didn’t have to look directly into those mesmerizing eyes. But the silence didn’t sit well with her. “So what brings you to NOLA?” she asked.

“Business. Some people I’ll be working with brought me along tonight.”

“Generous of them.”

His grunt could have been a confirmation, but she suspected she heard a bit of skepticism behind the sound.

“Are you here with your husband?”

Surprise shot through her, until her quick glance found his gaze resting on the band encircling her ring finger, the tiny cluster of emeralds and diamonds twinkling in the lights from above. “No,” she murmured. “I’m a widow.”

It still felt weird saying it out loud. It still felt strange to realize she and Michael had been married. For her, it had essentially been a business proposition—with infinite benefits considering the fortune she stood to inherit. And a favor to the man who had been her best friend, even if it had turned out to be the hardest job she’d ever faced.

And she faced it alone, now that Michael was gone.

Rhett cocked his head to the side, an obvious question in his expression.

“My…husband, Michael Hyatt, passed away recently in an accident.”

Rhett’s nod was slow and sage. “Yes, I believe I heard about that. Helicopter accident, wasn’t it? Very sad.”

Of course, he would have heard of it. Michael had not just been a lifelong friend and the owner of the charity Trinity had run for him, he’d also been a wildly successful, multimillion-dollar businessman. The question was, what else had he heard?

As if he sensed her subtle withdrawal, Rhett paused to meet her gaze head on. There was nowhere for her to hide. “Please accept my sincere condolences for your loss.”

Startled, she felt pinned by both his look and his words. His wasn’t one of the trite I’m sorrys that preceded the endless questions she wished she never had to answer again.

“Thank you,” she said simply.

“You’re welcome.” A smaller version of his grin appeared, but dang if it wasn’t just as charming.

For a moment, Trinity found herself drifting, wishing she wasn’t Michael’s widow, wasn’t the most talked-about person in New Orleans at the moment, and was simply a woman who could respond to that smile without a worry in the world.

But she wasn’t. Time ticked inside her head, counting off the seconds until someone realized she was missing from the elite crowd.

“I really should be getting back,” she said. Someone had surely noticed she was gone by now. Especially Michael’s aunt and uncle. They didn’t miss a move that she made.

And neither did the press.

Defeat weighed down on her as she remembered reading today’s post and photos on the NOLA Secrets & Scandals blog. She’d never have noticed it on her own. Jenny, her secretary, had pointed it out. The hints about a money-hungry widow threatening the livelihoods of countless families gave her an idea of what information the author had hunted down, but not an idea of when the full story would hit… As if Trinity didn’t have enough to stress her out.

Didn’t anyone understand that she shared the questions—and fears—about how her husband’s death and the lawsuit filed against his estate by his aunt and uncle would affect the business’s 50,000-person global workforce?

She assured herself time and again that she was carrying out Michael’s wishes. But she had to wonder what he’d been thinking to put a global empire and the fate of that many people under the direction of a charity program director like herself. Still, despite her many misgivings, she never let her worries surface in public. There were too many people eager to use them against her.

Though the question haunted her night after night, she was determined to do her very best by all of them…including Michael.

But those worries were nothing compared to the butterflies in her stomach and unfamiliar heat in her core caused by the man walking by her side. “Yes, I definitely need to get back.”

“But we’re just getting to know—”

Trinity sped up, snagging her shoe in her dress in her clumsy attempt to get away. She tripped and flung out her hand to catch herself.

Without warning, she found herself engulfed in musky male scent and heat. Her body froze, but her instincts knew exactly what they wanted. She breathed deep, sucking in the hint of cologne and the savory scent of him, imprinting his essence on her lungs.

Immediately guilt snaked through her. She pushed against his arms, needing to be free. But he didn’t release her until she was once again steady on her feet.

“Please don’t,” she gasped, recognizing her response to him with rising fear. Attraction by itself, let alone to a man she knew nothing about, was the last thing she needed in her life.

Unfazed by her protests, Rhett simply arched a brow as he pulled back. “I assumed from our talk that you didn’t care for a crowd.”

Puzzled, she said, “Yes?”

“Well, if your hand had hit right there—” his gaze turned to the wall where she would have landed, right on the frame of one of the beloved portraits in the rotunda “—then you would have set off the alarm and brought a whole load of people running.”

And caused an epic scene being found in the arms of another man six weeks after her husband’s death. Her cheeks burned as she imagined it. She quickly covered them with her palms. What a nightmare.

“Thank you,” she choked out, unable to look up into Rhett’s gray-green gaze.

But he was having none of that. He tucked firm fingers under her chin and lifted her face, displacing her own hands covering her embarrassment. Then he removed his arm from her, creating a small, intimate space between them.

Then she felt his thumb rub against the fullness of her bottom lip. A jolt of electricity shot through her. His eyelids lowered, and he gave her a slumberous, searching look that sent aftershocks down her spine.

“My pleasure,” he said quietly. Then he was gone.






“So I see you’ve met our little gold digger.”

Something about Richard Hyatt’s voice always hit Rhett like nails on a chalkboard. Suppressing a wince took effort. He turned to find the heavyset man standing behind him, years of self-indulgence stamped on his pale, bloated face. His wife stood beside him, looking like his polar opposite. From the first moment Rhett had met with them, the couple had reminded him of the Jack Sprat nursery rhyme. Patricia Hyatt was pencil thin and her expression remained hard no matter the topic of conversation.

Somehow Rhett couldn’t imagine the pale, vulnerable woman he’d met in the rotunda marrying into a family that included these people, but appearances could be deceiving…as Rhett knew better than most. He’d been on the receiving end of dishonest treachery more times than he could count, personally and professionally, but it was his ability to look beneath the surface of a pretty face and find the hidden ugliness that made him a master at his job.

Well, he preferred to consider it a true calling.

Trinity appeared genuinely innocent, from her wide, doe-brown eyes to the emotions that had flitted through her expression when she’d thought she was alone. There was a purity to her beauty that drew him in, urged him to let his guard down and believe that she’d been a true bride to Richard’s deceased nephew, not a grifter. There was also something about her that woke sensations that weren’t usually a part of his investigations.

But crying in public when there was any chance she might get caught? That had his Spidey senses tingling.

Was she simply a great actress? Had she taken advantage of Michael Hyatt and caught an unexpected win when he died so suddenly? Had she wormed her way into his bed, then into his will? From what he’d been told, that seductive innocence was a lie…and it was Rhett’s responsibility to prove it.

Still, something about the whole scenario didn’t quite fit. Rhett’s instincts were usually spot-on from the moment he met someone. But with Trinity, the signal seemed to be intermittent. Not that he would be voicing that suspicion to his new client.

“Do you think it’s wise to be speaking with me tonight?” he asked before indulging in a miniscule sip from his whiskey glass. Normally, he didn’t drink on a job, but he did need to look the part in tonight’s crowd. And blending in, playing the part, was something at which Rhett was extremely skilled. He glanced around, noting that Trinity hadn’t returned to mingle in the crowd yet. But if she did, he wanted this meeting to look as casual as possible.

“Just a brief chat,” Richard said, his gaze shifting back and forth over the surrounding crowd in a way that was blatantly suspicious. He extended a meaty hand. “You know how to make it look like a first meeting, don’t you?”

Rhett smothered a sigh before shaking the other man’s hand. Working with amateurs who thought they knew everything was such a pain in the ass.

“Of course,” he said, his tone smooth and his voice pitched low. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Hyatt. I had the pleasure of meeting Trinity Hyatt moments ago.”

Richard smirked, as if pleased Rhett had taken his direction, but Patricia snapped, “Don’t call her that. I will never acknowledge that woman’s so-called marriage to my nephew. Ever.”

She might not, but that didn’t mean the law wouldn’t. Rhett didn’t bother making the distinction. That was their lawyer’s job.

“Regardless, our meeting was quite satisfactory. I don’t foresee any problems with proceeding.”

Satisfied smiles appeared on Richard’s and Patricia’s faces. As much as the Hyatts’ obvious greed for their deceased nephew’s estate left a bad taste in Rhett’s mouth, he couldn’t deny their suspicions had basis in reality. Trinity Romero had become Trinity Hyatt a mere week before her new husband had died in a helicopter crash, taking her from a lowly administrator at one of her husband’s charities to a very wealthy widow. A claim her new family was already protesting in court. She did have a handwritten copy of his new will, but her lawyer insisted the official copy had been with her husband in the helicopter he’d died in on his way to his lawyer’s office.

Convenient.

“I knew you were the man for the job,” Richard was saying. “Our lawyer knew exactly who to turn to. A man like you will make her putty in your hands in a week—”

“Maybe less,” his wife murmured, eyeing Rhett in a most unladylike way over the rim of her wineglass.

Richard ignored her. “You’ll get the truth from her, then we will have evidence for our court case. Anything to put this whole debacle behind us.”

“Remember, I cannot guarantee that time frame, Mr. Hyatt.”

Richard’s ham-handed slap on the back left Rhett uncomfortable but he knew better than to show it. Clients were never happy if you gave any hint of not trusting them.

The pat was accompanied by a hearty, “I have full faith in you, my man. And it seems like others are starting to get on board.”

Rhett knew what Richard was referring to, as anyone in his position should, but still asked, “Meaning?”

“Apparently New Orleans’ resident gossip blogger, one of those anonymous channels that dishes all the dirt, has started digging into Trinity’s secrets. That should help our cause,” he said with an overly loud guffaw. “Our lawyer will send you a link before the meeting tomorrow.”

Again, Rhett didn’t let on that he knew about the gossip column. He was nothing if not thorough. No single thing was left to chance. Rhett had seen the alert just as soon as the post had gone live. NOLASecrets & Scandals was exceedingly popular in the city and gaining ground across the South. In less than three months, the Instagram page connected with the blog had gained over 100,000 followers. It had caught on not just with gossipmongers, but within the upper classes, who relished knowing and spreading the secret tidbits the blogger exposed.

Rhett shifted a little in his jacket, for once wishing he’d sent his partner, Chris, instead of taking this job himself. But Chris had his hands full with a case involving a gigolo trying to swindle an elderly woman out of her fortune; Chris’s job was to seduce the old lady right out from under him so her children would ultimately receive their rightful inheritance.

On the surface, what their company did sounded down and dirty, but it really wasn’t. They might whisper a few sweet words or hold someone a little closer than publicly proper, but there was a line that was never crossed. A line that Rhett had never wanted to cross. After all, he’d had enough betrayal in his life without deliberately putting himself into a situation that could only have a bad ending.

They were coming down to the wire on that case, but Rhett couldn’t wait for Chris to wrap it up. Oh, Rhett could certainly do this job. Trinity’s beauty eased any hardship caused by her gauche in-laws. Just the thought of the hunt, the subtle maneuvers required to ferret out the information he needed to undermine any claim she had on the Hyatt estate set his blood pumping.

He just had to ignore the other things about Trinity that made his heart pound.

As his new clients eased off with a casual wave and a not-so-subtle wink, Rhett indulged in the barest sip of his whiskey. He casually zeroed in on the very spot where Trinity was standing. He’d known the moment she’d reentered the museum’s grand ballroom. His brain had registered every glance she’d thrown his way, no matter how much she’d tried to hide it. So he let the distaste he’d felt for his clients’ motives show momentarily on his face. He wanted her to see that he’d met her in-laws and didn’t care for them that much.

He could almost feel her curiosity and concern across the space between them.

Now he let himself make eye contact, then he lifted his glass in her direction, catching her wide-eyed surprise as he acknowledged a connection neither of them had put into words. Regardless of what her in-laws might say, what society might whisper or what his own conscience might condemn, getting to know each other was going to be a very sure pleasure.


Two (#ue2e79cc3-5d24-5645-90ef-481460e2ccb4)

Trinity tried not to be alarmed by the number of people seated around the table at the emergency board meeting of Hyatt Heights, Inc. It looked like a world peace negotiation instead of a business meeting.

There were the lawyers: stone-faced as they set up their laptops. There were the businessmen: some familiar and friendly faces, some not so much. Then there were Richard and his wife, Patricia, whose faces had never been friendly in all the years she’d known them.

They’d never pretended to love Michael, though he was their only nephew. Instead they’d spent all their time complaining to him about Hyatt Heights losing money and the waste of running Maison de Jardin. The home for abused women and children had become Michael’s life passion after his parents had been killed in a car accident in his midtwenties.

That was when Michael’s unlikely friendship with Trinity had started. They’d both been dealing with the repercussions of losing their families, though in different ways. Trinity as a victim of violence who found shelter with her mother at Maison de Jardin. Michael as the rescuer who took them in and gave them hope and a future. It had led to a lifetime connection that had shaped her entire world.

Trinity forced her thoughts back to the present, rather than let herself get lost in the bittersweet memories of her best friend. Despite the comfort they gave her, she somehow knew she needed all her focus on the here and now. People didn’t just call an emergency board meeting for any old reason, right?

Those darn posts… They had to have something to do with it.

“Doing okay, Trinity?” Bill LeBlanc asked from her right side.

She gave him a small smile, grateful to have the one other person who had known her husband as well as she had by her side through all of this. An old-fashioned Southern lawyer in his ever-present vest and bowtie, Bill looked right at home amid the arched windows and wainscoting of the boardroom at Hyatt House, the private mansion from which Michael Hyatt had run his business and charitable foundation. Bill’s only regret was that, as Michael’s lawyer, he hadn’t been able to finalize the will before Michael’s death. But he was doing all that he could to help Trinity honor his client and friend’s wishes.

“I feel completely unprepared,” she said low, not wanting anyone else in the room to overhear. There were a few people here who would jump on any weakness like sharks scenting blood in the water.

What she needed was a strategy. Being perceived as a strong leader by the board of Hyatt Heights was essential. If she inherited Michael’s position, she would be CEO of the corporation, and a majority shareholder, but still needed the board on her side to put through the initiatives and decisions that could be supported by the other shareholders.

An injunction had created a temporary board director to serve in Michael’s place during the court case, while Trinity still handled Michael’s other businesses and whatever tasks the temporary board director asked of her. So she and Richard were “auditioning” while the case was ongoing. If she didn’t prove her worth, Trinity could still lose the CEO position, though the shares would remain hers through inheritance.

Which would make carrying out Michael’s wishes even harder. The two board meetings she’d attended since her husband’s death had included talking points and presentations and charts that Bill had briefed her on before they’d arrived.

Not today. There’d been no preparation, no warnings. Trinity knew on an intellectual level that she needed to focus on getting through this without hinting how much she was out of her depth. She was a smart woman, but her crash course in billion-dollar businesses over the last two months had been steep.

Plus, her sleep last night had been repeatedly interrupted by the image of bright gray-green eyes that left her restless and needy in a way she’d never felt before. A way she was definitely not comfortable with.

“It will be fine,” Bill assured her as the meeting was called to order.

Richard Hyatt sat with his wife and lawyer at an angle across from Trinity and Bill, which should have been enough to put her out of their line of sight. Still she shifted in discomfort as she noticed the couple’s gazes trained in her direction. What trouble were they stirring up now?

She had to wonder what influence Richard had used with the temporary board director to get everyone to show up for this. He acted as if winning the case for Michael’s inheritance was a done deal and he’d already been elevated to CEO, instead of still being only a member of the board.

“This meeting at my request to the chair was called with some urgency to address issues brought to my awareness this morning,” Richard said, taking to his feet as if to assert his superiority over the others around the table. “How many of you have seen this?”

He clicked a button on the remote in his hand, which caused a portion of the back wall to slide down. The large screen behind it was already on, displaying a photo of Trinity. She could easily read the headline on the screen.

Suspicious Widow Fights for Control

of Hyatt Estate

Trinity couldn’t hold in a gasp, though she would have given anything not to react after Richard smirked in her direction.

But he didn’t stop there. “I told the board you’d be bad for business, but they wouldn’t listen.”

His words were lost in the cacophony of voices as board members asserted their opinions. They clicked on the keyboards before them on the table’s highly polished surface. He’d gotten his point across, and that was all that mattered.

Trinity pressed her shaking fingers together. The headline and blog post were only the beginning of the ugliness. There were also photos. The series of pictures included one of her at the funeral, one from the charity event the night before looking particularly standoffish, and a picture of her marriage certificate. She tuned out the noise around her as she read the short captions and comments.

They included vague claims about how unfit Trinity was, simply because she’d never been part of New Orleans’s upper crust and ran a charity for a living. There were specific details about her short marriage to Michael and a link to documentation about the court case filed by Richard and Patricia, all under the hashtag #NOLASecrets. A few Black Widow comments thrown in didn’t sit well with her either.

“Where is this from?” Bill’s sharp voice jolted her from her absorption. She’d assumed he knew about the rumors making the social media rounds.

“That new gossip blogger who’s all the rage at the moment,” Patricia said. “Everyone who is anyone is following her blog and other social media.” Her eye roll was almost comical.

Another board member interrupted, his voice sounding panicky. “It’s only a matter of time before this hits other news sites. NOLA Secrets & Scandals is really making waves.”

“It already has,” Richard said, his voice calm. There was an ominous glint of satisfaction in his gaze as he trained it once again on Trinity. “Our stock has already begun to drop.”

There was a flurry of rustling as phones were pulled from pockets and briefcases. Those with laptops began furiously clicking. The murmurs grew louder as the board members confirmed for themselves what Richard had said.

Bill scoffed, looking up from his own phone. “We have no idea whether this was caused by that hatchet piece. The stock is barely down from yesterday.”

“Mark my words, it’s going to fall, and fall fast,” Richard assured him. “I mean, look at this post.” He clicked on a link in the sidebar. The headline read, “Suspicious Marriage Threatens Local Jobs.” Then the next line, “And it’s all her fault.”

Trinity allowed herself to blink slowly once, twice, before saying, “I thought you said it was the blogger’s fault.”

“There wouldn’t even be a post if it wasn’t for you. Obviously, they agree it’s your fault, too.”

“You don’t even know who wrote this,” Trinity argued, though she knew it was futile.

“The public doesn’t care, little girl. Shareholders just read the news and start dumping their stock. Prices go down. People lose jobs.”

Bill interrupted with, “This isn’t news. It’s rumors. Once the truth comes out in court—”

“When?” Richard demanded. “In a year? Two years? How much damage will be done in that amount of time?”

Trinity’s heart picked up speed.

That’s when Richard and Patricia’s lawyer saw an opening. “Let’s not forget that if the stock drops, you might all be booted off the board.”

Larry Pelegrine, one of the men who had been kind enough to answer Trinity’s questions over the last six weeks, spoke up. “Now, we can’t allow this to get out of hand. Not because of how it might affect any one of us individually,” he said with gentlemanly emphasis, without directly pointing out the crass slant of the lawyer’s words, “but because of the thousands of people who work for the Hyatt companies. They have families to support. Families that need groceries and health insurance and—”

“We get it,” Patricia said, her voice turning snide. “We need to help people…and ourselves.”

How in the world could the other board members not see just how focused Richard and Patricia Hyatt were on bettering themselves, without caring about the effect of their actions on others? Or that their selfishness was the exact opposite of Michael’s vision for his companies and charitable foundation?

Larry leaned forward. “Look, as much as I hate to say it, the reality is that if the company’s valuation goes down, people will lose their jobs. And that valuation is partially reliant on how the outside world views the company, regardless of the truth.”

The rest of the board members nodded and muttered to each other. Bill cast a sympathetic glance in Trinity’s direction. She pressed her palms against her thighs beneath the protection of the table’s edge. She and Bill and even Larry had worked hard to promote her abilities and skills to the rest of the board for the last six weeks. After all, she’d single-handedly run Maison de Jardin for Michael since she was twenty-three. It wasn’t a small operation, by any stretch of the imagination, though it was miniscule compared to the entire Hyatt Heights operation.

She could feel the understanding and support they’d been working so hard to cultivate slowly sinking out from underneath her like sand beneath a wave on the beach. Once the court case was settled, the winner would own the largest portion of the company and would most likely be the CEO, giving them the most sway with the board. She needed them to believe in her, so she could use her power for the things Michael would have wanted. Richard had his own seat, but no true power if he didn’t inherit Michael’s estate.

One voice rose above the rest. “We have to do something.”

Trinity was bombarded with questions and comments from all sides. She slowly drew in a breath, trying to think amid the chaos.

“I think this will help everyone see what I mean,” Richard said.

This time he clicked to display a file. At first when Trinity looked at the handout, the figures and columns jumbled before her eyes; then, she started to sort through the data. She could see Bill doing the same out of her peripheral vision. The negative projections on how their workforce and revenue would be impacted by the bad press hit Trinity hard.

No matter how much she told herself that this wasn’t her fault, that what had simply started as a favor to her best friend had gotten completely out of control with his unexpected death, it didn’t make her feel any less responsible for what could happen to innocent people along the way.

Patricia drove the nail in harder. “That’s an estimated five thousand people with families in New Orleans alone who will end up unemployed.”

A city in desperate need of jobs. Trinity knew that.

“You don’t know that,” Bill asserted, a little of his spirit reappearing.

The woman didn’t seem to care about a little thing like facts…or decorum. She leaned forward, hands planted squarely on the table, and looked Trinity directly in the eye. “That means they’re gonna need all the charity they can get. You know, the same kind your clients receive over at Maison,” she said, a snide twist to her voice. “That’s something your brain can actually grasp, right?”

Trinity felt herself withdraw from the unexpected attack, but forced herself to hold completely still. It was the only coping mechanism she had. If she held still, no one could see her, no one could take a swipe at her. Or in this case, gather any more evidence to use against her.

She forced her voice to stay steady as she said, “The last thing I want is for families to lose their income.”

“They will as long as you hang this board up with your court case.”

Trinity raised a brow in disbelief. “I’m not the one who initiated the case.”

“That’s not how the press sees it.” Richard nodded toward the screen .

Larry stood up, his height and girth commanding attention. “Let’s focus here. We need to do something about this before it gets to be a huge problem. The issue here is the need to sway public opinion in such a way that it will reassure our investors and raise stock prices.” He sighed. “I believe I’ve got an idea.”

His glance in her direction was almost apologetic. “Even before this bad press, I looked into a business consultant to help you. Now I realize hiring him might reassure our investors that our corporation is not simply being run by someone completely inexperienced.”

Bill grunted, but Trinity laid a hand on his arm. Let everyone think she was inexperienced. She was, to a certain extent, though years spent talking aspects of his business through with Michael had taught her some very valuable things. Not that she’d expected to ever have to use that knowledge. But now that he was gone, she was more than grateful.

“That sounds like an interesting proposition,” she said instead of rejecting the proposal outright.

“He’s here, actually. He was in town and I asked if he would meet with you,” Larry said.

That took her back a little bit, but at least it expedited things.

“Here?” Richard asked, his voice booming in the room. “Let’s bring him in.”

Trinity winced. How lovely—another businessman to “fix” the problem of her inexperience. Even if she won the case against the people trying to take her inheritance away, consultants like this would be telling her what to do.

The room went oddly quiet as Larry stepped out into the hallway. Trinity felt a sick kind of anticipation build inside her. Logic said if this consultant could help, it would be a good thing for a lot of people. Fear said he could end up being just one more person to criticize her after analyzing her every move.

The door opened and Larry stepped back inside with another man following close behind.

Trinity took one look into the gray-green eyes she’d never expected to see again and wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole.






Rhett saw the surprise in Trinity’s eyes as he walked into the room but didn’t experience the usual thrill he felt as the game started in earnest.

Angry tones and placating words swirled around the periphery of his awareness. Still Rhett couldn’t tear his gaze from the wide-eyed woman seated halfway up the table. Her slender elegance seemed out of place amid the stout men in power suits who filled the room. Today her wealth of dark hair was pulled back from the fine cheekbones, making Rhett wish to see it loose and tumbling in waves around her shoulders as it had last night at the museum.

Today her expression was more guarded. He sensed the hard barrier she’d placed between herself and those she surely saw as adversaries, giving her the calm, blank stare of a sphinx. Where had she learned to do that? Or did it come naturally to her? Was it always her reaction to the men surrounding her?

Or had he truly caught her in an unguarded moment the night before, a time when she’d been alone with her thoughts and unprepared to defend herself against her enemies?

Rhett wasn’t sure, but the question came from somewhere deep inside of him. It wasn’t just curiosity about information that would help him do his job. No, this was a bone-deep desire to solve the mystery in front of him. Would he be satisfied with exposing her as a liar? Or would finding evidence of her less-than-stellar character leave him with a bad taste in his mouth for once?

Because Rhett wasn’t just good at what he did. He was exceptional. He had yet to complete a case without finding something to prove his client’s suspicions valid. This one would end the same…even if the chase was much more interesting.

As Larry introduced Rhett to the board, Trinity blinked, slowly, almost deliberately, then turned her gaze toward the man seated beside her. Her lawyer, Rhett remembered now from his files. Something about her breaking eye contact with him finally jump-started his adrenaline.

“I don’t see how this will help,” Bill complained. “Why would his presence sway public opinion at all? It just looks like a PR move, which will hardly be reassuring.”

“He has a proven track record of inspiring confidence in investors,” Larry countered. Rhett had met the man earlier this morning, when Richard and Patricia had filled Larry in on Rhett’s secret assignment. “We tell the media and our shareholders that we’re addressing the concerns of our employees and making sure the business is in the best possible hands.”

Protests rose around the room once more; the group sounded more like unruly schoolchildren than business professionals. Only Trinity sat quietly in the midst of the chaos.

It didn’t take long for Rhett to reach his limit. He gave the black tabletop before him a firm smack. Once the room quieted and he had the full attention of those around him, he asked in a firm tone, “Do you want to make the best of this situation or lose everything you helped Michael Hyatt work so hard to build?”

The room went utterly still as Rhett deliberately moved his gaze from one man to the next. Even the background hum of the air conditioner seemed to subside. Then his attention fell on Trinity.

Her gaze was trained solely on him; she ignored everyone else. Something about her attention shook his control for a moment.

Startled at her reaction, he deliberately pulled his mental barriers back in place, then moved effortlessly into the spiel he had prepared to convince the board of his usefulness to their present dilemma. His cover story as a business consultant rolled smoothly off his tongue.

A brief discussion ensued, one Trinity continued to follow with that sphinxlike expression on her face. He knew she was soaking it all in, but she showed very little reaction to his pitch. Until the end.

When he was done speaking, she stood up. It wasn’t an attempt to intimidate, as he’d seen the other men do earlier in the meeting through the small spy camera Richard was carrying for him. No. Instead, tranquility radiated from her, garnering the attention of those around her.

Rhett didn’t understand what that magnetism was, but he was determined to find out.

All eyes were riveted on her as she said in a solid voice that held no hint of hesitation, “Welcome, Mr. Brannon. We appreciate your willingness to take on our unusual situation.”

He heard a quickly stifled hiss from Patricia, but Rhett didn’t look her way. He found himself too fascinated with this new, unexpected side of Trinity, this authority that seemed to come naturally to her. The woman he’d met last night had been hesitant. Shy, even. In this moment, she was commanding.

For the first time, he wondered why the Hyatts saw Trinity as more of a nuisance who stood in their way rather than a true threat. They should be much more concerned. Because his instincts said he was now facing someone who might prove to be a more than competent adversary when crossed.

“Gentlemen,” she said, her tone brooking no argument, “there’s been enough discussion for today. I believe hiring Mr. Brannon as a consultant is an acceptable solution all around.”

She glanced toward the interim board director, who nodded. “This meeting is adjourned. You all know your way out,” he said.

As one, everyone stood and headed toward the door. Not a single person lingered. Rhett could see why. Trinity had closed the discussion with a force of personality that hadn’t been in evidence earlier.

His spy camera hadn’t caught her saying very much in the meeting, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t made an impact. It was almost as if she’d sat in the room, blending in like an old-fashioned wallflower, while she soaked in every word being said. But when she’d made her decision, it was time for everyone else to get the hell out of Dodge, so to speak.

Impressive.

Whispering among themselves, the crowd, led by Richard and his wife, filed out the door held open by a butler. Rhett would have gotten lost in the sprawling mansion if not for the butler leading the way.

It possessed an opulent, dark beauty in the curved arches of every window, the elaborately carved entryways and myriad displays of art and books in every nook and cranny. Quintessentially Southern, it reflected the rich, spicy atmosphere of the city with splashes of bright color and nods to the rich, turbulent history of the land.

Gorgeous, but stifling. Did Trinity find the elegance oppressive? Her focus on her responsibilities, while admirable on the surface, could simply be part of the act. Dutiful widow and all. Would she welcome him into her confidence to help her with the duties she’d inherited, even as he gathered the evidence to take her down? Though it was just an assignment, his heartbeat gained speed at the thought of working so closely with her.

No, he needed to proceed with caution. He needed to get close to her, yes. But only to do his job. He needed the real motive…not the real woman.

Still, enticing Trinity to have a little fun could serve his purpose well.

Trinity exchanged a few quiet words with her lawyer when Bill paused beside her, but she didn’t move as he headed on through the door. Rhett didn’t miss the hard look Bill threw his way. That man would have a background check completed before the end of today. Too bad he would only find what Rhett wanted him to know.

Somehow, without the words being spoken, Rhett knew Trinity expected him to remain behind. Sheer curiosity held him still. He was psyched to see what other surprises she had in store for him.

As his gaze returned to her, he caught the briefest of moments when her whole body seemed weighed down. Her shoulders drooped. Her head hung forward a few inches. Her expression was lined with despair. It was only there for a moment, as if the demands of speaking earlier had drained every last inch of her energy.

Then the moment disappeared, and she was once more closed off to his prying eyes.

As soon as the last board member cleared the room, Trinity nodded to the butler and he firmly closed the carved wooden doors. Not missing a beat, she turned to Rhett and fixed him with her gaze.

“Tell me exactly what game it is you think you’re playing, Mr. Brannon.”


Three (#ue2e79cc3-5d24-5645-90ef-481460e2ccb4)

Watching Rhett’s gray eyes widen with shock was even better than the special scenes in the movies that were her big indulgence now that she was an adult. Her mother had believed films were sinful, but Trinity had no such hang-ups. There was nothing better than losing herself in scene after colorful scene…except maybe throwing Rhett off guard by stepping outside of the carefully constructed box he’d obviously placed her in.

She had a feeling he wasn’t often at a loss for words. Today his presence was even more commanding than last night. He’d stepped into a room full of powerful businessmen without any hesitation. He’d taken up the reins of the meeting as if he’d been born to lead and established his abilities with just a few simple words.

This was a version of the man she’d met last night. Still gorgeous in that glossy-magazine way, but without the flirtatiousness and single-minded intensity of the night before. Today he’d been performing for the entire room. Last night he’d been focused only on her.

Or so it had seemed.

What was he really up to? She needed answers.

“You knew who I was last night.” The words weren’t a question, because they both knew the truth. She waited for the excuses to start rolling in.

“Trinity.”

His deep voice held the same intimate tone that it had the night before, except now they were in a boardroom, instead of what had seemed like a very private meeting of their own. Still she had to suppress a shiver as her skin prickled.

This time it was her turn to be taken off guard. His dark good looks, the pull of his powerful personality sucked her under. What was the point in asking questions? It would be easier to sit and stare for a while, let his sexy energy distract her from the truth that had to be lurking behind that charming smile. It would be such a relief to drop the suspicions and defenses the situation seemed to require.

“You’re right,” he said, the ready confession surprising her. “I did recognize you—after you told me your name.”

That made sense. The story of Michael’s death and her inheritance had certainly been in the news lately. “It still didn’t occur to you to introduce yourself? Your real self?”

One thing Trinity had learned in life was that you never got anywhere if you kept backing down…and she wasn’t moving forward with this plan until she had some answers.

“Well, yes,” he conceded.

His gaze dipped, making her suddenly aware of her arms crossed over her front and how defensive she must seem. She forced herself to relax, but that seemed to warrant another quick look from him, one that lingered just long enough to cause gooseflesh to break out over her forearms.

“But?” she prompted. Eyes up, bucko.

“But I wasn’t sure whether this plan had been shared with you yet. Besides, I didn’t know the job was definite until this morning. I just flew in last night. It was simply…a tentative offer.”

His logic was perfectly reasonable. He’d been right to wonder. After all, she hadn’t been told why he was here…or that he was here at all. Something she couldn’t fault him for, as much as she’d like to.

So why did her suspicions linger?

It didn’t help that a slight smile graced his lips, almost as if he were amused by all the questions. Defensiveness rose inside her, a desire to build a protective wall around herself, so he couldn’t see or touch or know any part of her that might tell him just a little too much about the real Trinity Hyatt.

This was business only.

She forced herself to focus on that. “Why would you come here just to consult in a situation like this?”

He shrugged. “It’s what I do. Teaching people to run their businesses properly, or more efficiently, or simply to evaluate and suggest new processes. People who inherit businesses like you have are sometimes more in need of those services than most.”

“Isn’t that kind of like ‘those who can’t do, teach’?”

That sounded rude when she said it out loud, but maybe she wanted to push him away. Just a little.

“Not when you’re as good at it as I am.”

He said the words with a perfectly straight face. So why did she feel like he was insinuating something that had nothing to do with business?

Determined to distract him, not to mention herself, she asked, “Do you usually conduct business by lying to people? The people you’re supposed to be helping?”

He straightened, though his facial expression didn’t change. “I wasn’t lying. I just didn’t reveal everything right when we met because nothing had been decided upon.”

Warning bells went off in Trinity’s head at his dangerous logic. They got even louder as he leaned over, resting his hands against the edge of the boardroom table, a wide smile appearing on his lips.

Why did her heart speed up, just like it had earlier? They were only talking. She knew Bill, Richard and the butler, Frederick, were just outside. Frederick wouldn’t leave her unguarded with a stranger. There wasn’t any danger here. But the response had to be fear…right?

Then Rhett spoke. “Besides, I definitely didn’t want to kill the mood with something as boring as business.”

“If I had known—” Trinity sputtered.

“You never would have spoken to me about art or beauty or feelings last night,” he finished for her. “All of it would have been off the table.” He leaned a little closer. “While I appreciate what you’re saying, I simply wasn’t ready to break the mood.”

Implying he’d felt all or more of the attraction she had as they’d stood alone in the rotunda. But she had been willing to walk away because discussing those things with him made her feel much more than she should. Regardless of the fact that her husband had only been dead six weeks, and the fact that getting involved with anyone would give the press one more reason to flay her alive, Trinity was fully aware that she wasn’t experienced enough to handle a man like Rhett.

He had the sophistication of a man who knew exactly what he wanted and exactly how to get it. She was completely naive by comparison—she knew that. Could she work with the businessman to stabilize the situation at the company and still give the fascinating charismatic version of Rhett a wide berth?

She glanced down at his hands resting on the tabletop and frowned. She had to establish the rules as strictly as she could. It was up to her to set the tone, stake the boundaries.

“Just how much is this consulting job going to cost me?” She had no doubt that this would come out of her portion of the inheritance.

He frowned, as if he disapproved of her attempt to bring the focus back to business. But he didn’t back down. Instead, he gestured toward the scattered papers still littering the slick black surface of the conference table. “Does it really matter?”

As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She wasn’t in a place where she could bargain…not when the livelihoods of over 5,000 people were at stake.






When they left the boardroom, Rhett could feel Richard approaching them. Even if he hadn’t been looking, Rhett would have known by the way Trinity straightened. The way she gathered herself gave her almost another inch in height. Was she readying herself in defense…or to go on the offensive?

Relief spread through him as Bill arrived, too, so Trinity wasn’t alone with Richard. Her feelings weren’t something he should care about—as a matter of fact, the more uncomfortable she was, the more likely she was to make a mistake. Which was to his advantage.

So why was he worrying about her so much?

His phone vibrated. Rhett glanced at the display before excusing himself.

“Rhett here,” he said, connecting the call after walking a few feet away.

It was his standard greeting for his business partner, a signal to Chris that Rhett had to be careful about his words because someone might overhear him.

Once he was at a safe distance, he turned back around and met Trinity’s gaze. She didn’t immediately look away.

Chris’s voice distracted him. “What’s this I hear about you wanting me to take over your job? Has some woman got you whupped already?”

“In twenty-four hours?” His partner was way off base, though Rhett had the uncomfortable feeling this job wasn’t going to follow his usual patterns.

“Well, it could happen,” Chris said.

“In what universe?” The ribbing had the familiar comfort of a worn pair of jeans, calming Rhett’s concerns.

“Stefan was really worried. He said you sounded funny on the phone,” Chris said. “I figured lust must have hit hard and quick.”

“I’m impervious.” At least, he hoped so.

“That’s what they all say.”

Picking up the cue, Rhett and Chris said in unison, “But for us it’s the truth.”

“Seriously, Rhett,” Chris said, his tone finally turning serious, “what’s the problem?”

Rhett was silent for a moment, unsure how much to get into. In addition to the trio standing nearby, several board members still lingered across the anteroom near the impressive arched window. “Nothing I can’t handle. Last night was weird but I’m over it.”

“That was quick.”

Oh, the odd premonitions he’d had about Trinity were still there, but Rhett refused to cave into his feelings. “I’ve got it under control.”

“You sure?” Chris asked.

“Yeah. I have no doubt I’m gonna find something here. It’s just a matter of digging deep enough.” It always was.

“Just be careful you don’t enjoy it too much.”

Though the warning came with the territory, Rhett felt it on a much deeper level than usual. “I know better than to get involved.”

“Hey, we all need a reminder sometimes. We were made to be cynical. Sometimes we just listen to our man parts more than our common sense.”

Rhett knew better than to protest. That would just make him sound defensive.

Apparently, silence made him sound guilty, too, because Chris kept up his lecture.

“If it was just one time, life would be different. You and I both would be different,” Chris said. “But we were exposed to the truth too many times. Never forget your dad and Veronica…or Mickey and Tracy…or even Lily and—”

“Uncle Joe,” they said together. They’d had this discussion many times before. Both of them had families littered with betrayal. Every couple Chris mentioned was an example. It had been a training ground for the work Rhett now did.

“Dude,” Chris went on. “Anastasia taught you well.”

The mention of his former fiancée was just another reminder for Rhett to harden his resolve. He was fully aware of how dangerous lust could be to a man. Especially when he was staring at the incredible silhouette of Trinity from behind. Her height might be an inch or two below average, but her curves were fully present and accounted for…

And he was accounting for each and every one. He needed to take Chris’s words to heart and get his head in the game. “Roger that,” he said before signing off.

Now Rhett could move on to the next stage in his plan to insinuate himself into Trinity’s life.

He approached the little group just in time to hear Richard say, “At least you’re being sensible. It won’t do any of us any good if you ruin everything before we take over.”

“If you take over,” Bill countered with a stern glance.

Richard smirked. “It’s only a matter of time.”

Trinity held still, not reacting to the men’s conversation, though her gaze remained on Richard’s face long enough for the man to actually fidget in his designer leather shoes. Impressive.

“A little snag,” Rhett said, raising his phone to indicate the call.

“Anything we can do to help?” Bill asked with a lawyer’s version of a polite smile.

Rhett hoped so. “Can you recommend a place to stay? My secretary said the hotel wasn’t able to extend my reservation because of a convention or something.”

Bill frowned in concentration, but Richard didn’t think for a moment. “You don’t need a hotel.”

To Rhett’s fascination, Trinity showed her first touch of annoyance by pressing her full lips firmly together. Was she holding back a protest for what she could see coming? How would she feel if she knew he and Richard had arranged this ahead of time?

Doesn’t matter, numbskull.

“You can stay right here,” Richard replied gleefully. “Hyatt House has plenty of guest rooms. Right, Trinity?”

When Trinity replied, she spoke with a little too much control. “Of course. There’s plenty of space here.”

“And it will save you a few dollars, too,” Richard added.

“I’m a little more concerned with how others might view Mr. Brannon living here with me, since I’m so recent a widow—”

“Please, call me Rhett.”

“You don’t have a reputation to protect, anyway.” Richard just had to step in one more time. Did the man have no tact?

Once again Trinity’s face went completely still at Richard Hyatt’s insult.

“Richard,” Bill rumbled in warning.

But Rhett ignored his secret employer and focused entirely on Trinity. He clasped her fragile hand in his and raised it to his lips in an old-fashioned gesture. This gave him the opportunity to watch her guarded expression crack just enough, her eyes widening as his lips met her skin. He allowed only the briefest of touches before he pulled back and said, “Don’t you worry. I understand my job here, and my expertise is completely at your disposal.”

Confusion mingled with caution in her expression. Not letting his satisfaction show as she puzzled over the double meaning of his words, he went on, “You have my word that my behavior will be completely professional. The gossips would find me completely boring.”

For once, Rhett wasn’t sure that was a promise he could keep.


Four (#ue2e79cc3-5d24-5645-90ef-481460e2ccb4)

Why did walking down the hall, Rhett at her back, make Trinity so uncomfortable?

Not in the sense of being scared. It was more of an awareness that he was watching her, moving with her, that sifted through her skin into her very consciousness. It was craziness. She didn’t know this man at all. Keeping her distance was the best option, especially considering she’d be working with him starting today.

She couldn’t get away.

She knew for a fact that there was only one room ready at a moment’s notice inside Hyatt House, and it was directly across the hall from her bedroom.

So much for keeping her distance.

Rhett’s voice interrupted her obsessive thoughts. “I appreciate you letting me stay here on such short notice,” he said.

So polite. Why was he being this nice to her? He had to be working with the enemy. That thought stopped her in her tracks, and she whirled around to face him.

“Did Richard know why you were here before I did?” she demanded.

She caught an expression of surprise he probably didn’t want her to see, considering how quickly it disappeared.

“I saw you speaking with him at the event last night.”

Rhett was quiet for a moment longer than she expected, which made her want to squirm. But she refused to let herself. Now that she’d started on this road, there was no reason to back down.




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