Книга - The Inheritance

The Inheritance
Marie Ferrarella


You loved the Maitlands–now discover a new branch of the family!Independent rancher Rafe Maitland had never met his wealthy relatives–and planned to keep it that way. But when matriarch Megan Maitland's lovely personal assistant arrived on his doorstep, determined to ensure his presence at the family reunion, Rafe showed he could be as demanding and crafty as any other Maitland. Because the price for his company was a marriage of convenience–and all to keep custody of the little girl he'd inherited….







Dear Reader,

I had the honor of writing both the first and last books in the original MAITLAND MATERNITY series. While working on them, I got to know various members of the family pretty well and saying goodbye wasn’t easy. It never is for me, which is why I tend to revisit towns and families I’ve created. So when Silhouette Romance asked if I’d be interested in working on another MAITLAND MATERNITY story, I jumped at the chance. It allowed me the opportunity to get back with Megan Maitland, one of my favorite characters, and her family. And also to create new characters, as well. Working on The Inheritance also represented a new first for me. Despite all the books I’ve been fortunate enough to write, I’ve never touched on the subject of the older woman, younger man relationship. The pairing is getting more and more common these days, but for me, it was new territory to explore. So, for me, working on this book involved something old and something new. All we need is to borrow something blue and we’re all set for another Maitland wedding. Did you ever doubt it would happen? As always, I thank you for reading one of my stories, and from the bottom of my heart I wish you happiness and love.

Love,







“A pure delight…”

—Rendezvous

“…a charming storyteller who will steal your heart away.”

—Romantic Times Magazine

“Marie Ferrarella’s crisp writing style will keep fans on the edge of their seats.”

—Romantic Times Magazine




The Inheritance

Marie Ferrarella







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


To Patricia Smith

My Brand-New Guardian Angel

Here’s to a Long “Guardianship”

With Love

Marie




Contents


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue




Chapter 1


The last thing Rafe Maitland wanted to see at the end of a long, hard day, spent mostly in the saddle overseeing the hundred and one things that went into running a smooth ranching operation for his boss, was a prim, proper-looking woman standing in front of his door wearing a slate-gray suit, sensible shoes and oversize glasses.

His annoyed gaze swept quickly over her. The woman was clutching some kind of briefcase.

Saleswoman?

As he walked toward her, feeling every one of the twelve hours he’d put in since before dawn, the ends of his temper unraveled a little more with each step he took. Never one to run off at the mouth, he was feeling even more uncommunicative than usual. He just wanted a long, hot shower and some time to himself before the evening had a chance to unfold in front of him. Half an hour by himself. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently so.

The woman looked like someone’s timid maiden aunt, right down to her brown hair, which was pulled back in what, in his book, amounted to a no-nonsense hairdo. A woman’s hair should be soft, flowing, Rafe thought critically. Tempting a man to run his fingers through it, not silently ordering “hands off.”

Who was she and what the hell was she doing here in the middle of almost nowhere?

If he’d had put in an order for a woman on his doorstep, it would have been the vibrant, curvaceous type. And soft, the kind of soft that made a man’s mouth water, not the kind of soft that indicated an untoned body.

Not that he had the energy for the former type of woman these days, he thought. Not with the hours he was putting in on what amounted to next to no sleep. He figured the sleep would come once he got used to being a substitute parent. And Bethany finally got used to having him around and stopped calling out for her parents.

That was the worst of it, hearing her crying the baby words in the middle of the night and knowing that when he appeared, it wouldn’t cause her to stop, to smile the way she had when either Lil or Rory had come to scoop her out of her crib. He was just her godfather, not her parent. But he intended to be much more. All he needed was a little time. And luck.

Rafe swallowed the weary, sad sigh that materialized out of nowhere before it had a chance to escape. He didn’t allow himself to display signs of weakness—even if he was ready to drop in his tracks.

His eyes narrowed as he arrived at his doorstep. The woman looked as if she wanted to flinch but was struggling not to. What was that about? Mentally, he shrugged away the stray bit of curiosity.

Nope, he certainly had enough on his plate without having to put up with any sort of an intrusion. Seeing her open her mouth, he stopped her before she could launch into some kind of a sales pitch.

“Sorry if they misdirected you at the main house, ma’am, but whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying, so you might as well leave.”

Greer Lawford gripped the handle of the leather briefcase she was holding in both hands a little more tightly as the word went through her. Ma’am. The polite address made her wince inwardly. It also made her feel a thousand years old instead of thirty and a great deal older than this handsome, rugged-looking cowboy standing in front of her. She was hot, somewhat irritable even though she was at the tail end of the long trip she’d been on since yesterday morning and, quite honestly, more than a little tense. She had no intention of being cavalierly dismissed, or even of accepting no for an answer.

Greer was, quite simply, on a mission. Sent by her employer, Megan Maitland, she had been told to do whatever it took to lure this somewhat larger-than-life specimen of manhood to Austin, Texas, and keep him there as the rest of the clan gathered together for what promised to be a huge family celebration.

And whatever Megan Maitland wanted, the matriarch of the Maitland family was accustomed to getting. Not because she was pandered to, or because of any supposed divine right of the moneyed class, but because Megan Maitland’s heart was always behind her requests and everyone took pleasure in making her happy. Greer was no exception.

That this latest request involved gathering together all the heretofore unknown factions of the Maitland clan under one large roof at one time just made Greer that much more determined to see it happen. She’d never had a family and felt she could be forgiven if she acted as though the Maitland family were her own. She had dutifully sent out all the invitations, but when Robert Maitland’s estranged branch of the family had not responded, she’d taken it upon herself to ferret them out even before Mrs. Maitland had said anything. She saw it as a challenge. Rafe Maitland, the youngest, had been her first target.

She felt her palms grow just the slightest bit damp. This was about Christmas, she told herself, the time for peace and goodwill toward men. Even somewhat hostile ones like this one appeared to be.

“I’m not selling anything,” she told him firmly, watching as he opened the door to his small ranch house. Very quickly, she scooted inside before he had a chance to close it. The interior was sparsely furnished, and what furniture there was, was dark, wooden and massive. It suited him, she thought. She turned to look up at him. “I’m Greer Lawford—”

She got no further than that. Rafe raised one brow quizzically as he looked at her.

“Greer?” It sounded like the name of some long-ago screen siren. “What kind of a name is that?”

“A short one,” Greer answered tersely.

She gripped her briefcase more tightly, her knuckles aching a little. The man looked like one of those rough-and-tumble cowboys who used to populate the Saturday morning serial westerns of long ago. The kind who brooked no nonsense and listened only to his inner voice, rather than to anything anyone around him had to say. An alpha male, carved out of rock. That, no doubt, included his head.

But Mrs. Maitland wanted this man at the party and Greer was bound and determined to prove herself invaluable to the matriarch she had come very quickly to hold in the highest regard.

A look of disinterest and dismissal slipped over his face and he began to walk away from her. Surprised, Greer strode quickly to catch up and placed herself in front of him.

“My name,” she continued, “isn’t important—”

The look in his green eyes darkened. “And, no offense, unless you’re here to hand me a million dollar check, neither is your reason for being here.”

He wanted her gone and his temporary solitude restored. Pulling the tails of his work shirt out of his jeans, Rafe started unbuttoning it, figuring that would be the end of it.

Greer blinked at being so summarily dismissed. She tried not to watch the progress his fingers were making with the buttons on his shirt, or take any note of the hard, smooth chest that was beginning to emerge from beneath the parting material.

Feeling just the slightest bit shaky, she cleared her throat. It was obvious the man hadn’t gotten the invitation, otherwise he would have guessed the reason for her sudden appearance.

“Aren’t you even mildly interested why I’m here?”

“Nope.” And he meant it. Being curious just got you in trouble and he’d had more than his share of trouble in his life. Like now. “What I’m interested in is getting cleaned up.”

Finished unbuttoning his shirt, Rafe looked at her expectantly. Why wasn’t the woman with the improbable name taking her cue and leaving? He couldn’t be any clearer about his disinterest unless he gave her the bum’s rush.

The woman, her eyes rather wide behind her oversize light-gray-rimmed glasses, remained where she was.

Rafe unnotched his belt and loosened it.

Greer noticed a shift in the temperature within the room. It was definitely getting warmer. She could feel a blush beginning to climb up her body. The embarrassment that caused just heightened the color altering her skin tone.

“Are you planning on getting undressed?” She congratulated herself on not swallowing nervously before she asked the question.

His eyes met hers as he sat down on the arm of the overstuffed wine-colored leather sofa. The aged furniture creaked slightly. Rafe gripped one boot and pulled it off. “Never took a shower with my clothes on if I could help it.”

The second boot came off. Her nerve endings frayed a little more as it hit the floor with a thud.

Oh, God, the next minute he was going to take off his jeans. She wasn’t sure which way to avert her eyes and called herself an idiot for feeling this unsettled at her age. But the feeling wouldn’t leave.

“Please,” Greer said rather loudly, her hand on his arm, stilling any further progress that would fuel her embarrassment, “if you’d just hear me out.”

He had to admit that he found the pink blush that was even now furiously climbing up her neck rather intriguing as well as amusing. If he’d been given to placing bets, the way his late father had with a remarkable and unalterable passion, Rafe wouldn’t have guessed that the pushy woman before him was a blusher. The women of his acquaintance didn’t turn pink unless they’d spent too much time in the sun.

Time was running out. Alyssa would be here shortly with Bethany and he wanted to get cleaned up before then. He damn well wouldn’t get a chance once he was alone with the toddler. At a little more than one, Bethany had conquered walking a month ago and was into everything from the moment she set foot in the house unless he deposited her in her playpen. He knew he was living on borrowed time. Any day now, Bethany was going to discover a way to escape the small, confining area.

“All right—” he glanced at his watch “—you’ve got five minutes. Talk.”

Despite her background in the high-tech professional world she used to inhabit, Greer wasn’t accustomed to talking fast. That was why she enjoyed working for Megan; she liked having time to lay things out.

“You’re going to time me?”

“Yup.” His eyes returned to his watch. “And you’re wasting it.”

Like a marathon swimmer who’d heard the gun go off, Greer took a deep breath and plunged in. “I represent Megan Maitland—”

A muscle twisted in Rafe’s rigid jaw. “Never heard of her.”

The abrupt dismissal pulled her up short. It took Greer a little more than a beat to recover. “She’s your aunt.”

Rafe moved his shoulders in an indifferent shrug, his eyes flat. As were his feelings regarding that distant side of the family. Contrary to what he’d just said, he had heard of Megan Maitland. And her family. And her clinic. He’d made the connection after tossing away the invitation he’d received in the mail nearly a month ago. He didn’t want to get dragged into anything, especially not now.

Denial seemed the best way to go.

“Sorry.”

Greer supposed it was possible that the man hadn’t heard of Megan Maitland. If he’d been living in a cave for the last twenty-five years. Still, it wasn’t her place to call him a liar.

Ever the diplomat, she pretended she believed him and patiently explained, “She and her family run Maitland Maternity in Austin, Texas.”

Greer watched his generous lips draw together in slight disdain. She couldn’t tell if it was in response to her, her tone, or what she’d just said.

“I know where Austin is. Don’t know where the Maternity is and don’t rightly think I’ll be needing that information anytime soon.” He peeled off his thick gray socks and let them drop over his discarded boots.

Panic made a second appearance, assaulting her stomach. Any second, the man was going to start taking off his jeans, she just knew it. Desperation fueled her determination. “Will you listen to me and stop talking for a minute?”

Rafe’s eyes gave nothing away as he offered her a small salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

Greer pressed her lips together, trying not to dwell on how much she despised hearing that term applied to her. She’d heard it, time and again, years before she ever thought she deserved it. Years before she was ready for it. She hated the idea that she’d grown into a “ma’am” without ever having been a “miss” in anyone’s eyes. She couldn’t help feeling that somehow she’d arrived on the doorstep of settled maturity without having reaped the joys of youth along the way.

“Mrs. Maitland is throwing a Christmas party this December—”

Rafe snorted disparagingly. That was no concern of his. “Good time for it.”

Greer purposely ignored the blatant disdain in his voice. “—and she’d like you to attend. Actually, she’d like you to arrive there as early as possible so that she could get to know you.”

Standing up, he towered over her. His eyes holding hers, Rafe shoved his hands into his pockets. It caused his unsnapped jeans to sink dangerously low on hips that seemed rock solid.

“Why me?”

Her mouth went dry. Greer was having a great deal of difficulty in not noticing just how lean and hard Rafe Maitland was, how his years in the saddle had left him with a body that seemed sculpted out of granite.

Greer dropped her eyes to study the lone pillow haphazardly thrown onto the sofa, pretending to be interested in its Navajo pattern.

“Well, not you alone. You and all the other Maitlands.” She raised her head and looked up at him, wondering if his older brother and sister were going to be this difficult. “Mrs. Maitland wants this to be a family reunion.”

He’d just bet she did. Rafe scowled. Well, he had better things to do than dance like a wooden puppet because some rich dowager wanted to amuse herself and pull the strings.

“Sorry, I’m not much on family and I’ve got all I can handle at the moment.” His fingers resting on the tongue of his zipper, Rafe looked at Megan Maitland’s messenger, feeling the last of his patience leaving. “Now, if that’s all…”

Greer knew that part of her problem was that she appeared to be a complete pushover. But, in a way, that was also part of her strength, her secret weapon, because no one expected her to doggedly dig in. And she did. “No, that’s not all. You’re supposed to say yes.”

Now she was getting him angry. “Why? Because some rich lady says I am?”

Greer’s chin rose triumphantly. “Then you do know who she is.”

For a second, his attention fixed on the hint of a cleft in Greer’s chin. He shook off the sudden, unexpected impulse to run his finger along the indentation. He’d made a slip and he didn’t like making slips. Making slips was sloppy.

His brows drew together as his eyes darkened. Lesser men had backed down from him when he looked like that. That she didn’t look afraid both surprised and impressed him. But impressed or not, he didn’t have time for any nonsense, and this very definitely came under the heading of “nonsense.”

“Whether I do or don’t doesn’t make any difference. I don’t have time for parties, or for sitting around twiddling my thumbs because some woman claiming to be my aunt wants to ‘get to know me.’” He shot her words back at her. Rafe had no use for people who didn’t do an honest day’s work for a living. That had been his father’s way, living off others. Scamming, conniving, until the day he met his demise in an alley behind a casino in what had all the earmarks of a syndicate hit. “In case you hadn’t noticed, this is a working ranch and I’m one of the ones doing the working.”

Standing over her, he was so close that he seemed to be taking up all the available air. Determined to make him agree, Greer was still having trouble keeping her mind focused.

“Mr. Maitland, Mrs. Maitland has her heart set on getting everyone together.”

What some society woman did or didn’t want made no impression on him. He had to make his living out here, in the real world. He turned away from Megan Maitland’s little pit bull of a messenger and began to walk toward his bedroom and the shower that was just beyond.

“Well, then, I’m afraid her heart’s going to be broken, but I suspect she’ll live.”

Moving quickly, Greer got in front of him again, blocking his way out of the room. “Why don’t you at least think about it?”

Rafe paused, cocked his head as if shifting something over from one side to the other, then said, “There. I thought about it.” He looked her right in the eyes. “No,” he enunciated very firmly.

She felt her knees becoming less than solid. Envisioning Megan’s disappointment, Greer somehow managed to hold her ground. “Why?”

What was wrong with this woman? Why couldn’t she take no for an answer? “Because I plain don’t have the time or the inclination.” He had to really work to hold on to his temper. “Look, I don’t know this woman, and if she’s my aunt like you say—”

“She is—”

The look in his eyes froze any further words in her throat. “Then where was she before?”

“Before?” Greer echoed, not sure what he was referring to.

“Before now,” he ground out. He was tired, he was hungry and the unseasonable humidity was making the shoulder he’d injured years ago when he’d spilled off his horse ache. “Why no cards at Christmas? Why no visits in the last twenty-five years? No word while I was growing up? For all I know, Greer, this is just some big hoax—”

The flash of temper came out of nowhere, like a quick summer storm in the desert. She didn’t like the way he’d said her name, as if it were something comical. “It’s not.”

“Why should I go?” he wanted to know, looming over her again, his eyes holding hers. “Because you say so?”

She was utterly aware of him. The youngest of Mrs. Maitland’s long lost family was standing much too close to her. The fact that he was also bare-chested and sweaty was making it increasingly difficult for her to breathe. Telling herself that it was the heavy September air and not the man was a flat-out lie and she knew it.

Still, like a loyal terrier, she hung in. “No, because it’s the right thing to do.”

The right thing. What did someone with smooth, pampered hands and unbroken fingernails know about the right thing? What would she know about how hard it was to make a living in a hostile world? His lips curled in a sneer.

“The right thing, Greer, would be for you to retreat and tell Her Majesty that one of her relatives can’t be summoned to the gathering.” He paused at his bedroom door, his hand on the doorknob. “I’m sure I won’t be the only one sending his ‘regrets.’”

She wasn’t accustomed to lying, but she was beginning to think that perhaps there was a time and a place for everything.

“Yes, you will be,” Greer called after him.

He laughed under his breath and then turned to look at her over his shoulder, sincerely doubting her statement. “Well, I always did like standing out. Now, you’ve used up your five minutes, Greer, and I’d like to get on a first-name basis with my shower, so I figure you can see yourself out.”

With that he withdrew, leaving her flabbergasted and alone in his living room.

He shed his jeans as he walked toward his bathroom shower stall. Damn, where did she get off, being pushy like that? He had a hell of a lot more important things on his mind than prancing off to some society bigwig’s party and being treated like the long lost black sheep of the family.

Rafe turned on the water full blast and let the steam envelop him, kneading the tight, aching muscles.

Tilting his head up under the showerhead, he laughed to himself. Hell, the whole side of his family could be thought of as black sheep when it came to the Maitland clan. And he supposed he was the blackest for not having anything to do with any of them.

But there were reasons for that.

Besides, he thought, lathering quickly, he had more than enough to deal with, what with Rory and Lil dying and leaving him to care for Bethany. Him, a confirmed bachelor without a clue what to do with a baby that didn’t have four legs and a tail. If that wasn’t enough, Lil’s aunt and uncle had suddenly turned up after years of silence, demanding custody of the little girl.

He washed the soap from his body, turning up the heat another notch and standing there to absorb the hot water. Maybe he would even have let them have Bethany, if he hadn’t given his word to Lil that he wouldn’t. With almost the last breath in her body, she’d begged him not to let the pair get their hands on Bethany. Not to put her baby through the hell she’d lived through and barely survived as a child. Lil wanted something better for Bethany. And it was up to him to see that she got it.

So he’d gone to a lawyer, first thing, and plunked down his hard-earned money, knowing that he needed help to allow him to keep his word. That stuck in his throat a little, not being able to do it alone. He was used to fighting his own battles, cleaning up his own messes. He’d been doing it ever since he could remember, raising himself because his parents were either too busy fighting or too busy living their own lives to take any notice of him.

Well, strictly speaking, he supposed his mother had tried her best. But the former showgirl was far more suited to dancing in skimpy outfits than to being a mother. She hadn’t the faintest idea what a kid needed. But Veronica Maitland had given him love and he supposed she had done her best.

He didn’t fault her. He faulted his father, who actually was a Maitland. In Rafe’s book, they were all probably like his old man. Out for themselves, self-serving. There had to be some kind of gimmick behind this invitation, he thought, and he wasn’t about to play along. Not if there wasn’t anything in it for him.

As seductive as standing under the shower was, Rafe forced himself to hurry. He didn’t want to greet the new cook’s daughter in his birthday suit. He’d seen the way the cook could swing a cleaver and wanted to take no chances on being on the receiving end of that.

Getting out, Rafe quickly toweled himself dry and slid on a clean pair of jeans. Alyssa, he figured, would be here with the baby any minute. They had an arrangement. She watched the baby during the day while he worked, and he was teaching her to ride. He figured he was getting the better end of the deal.

His hair still damp from the shower, his clean shirt only half buttoned, Rafe opened his bedroom door and walked out of the room to find that the woman in the large glasses and sensible shoes was once again standing in his living room.

“What the hell are you doing back?” he demanded.

Her back to him, Greer jumped, startled. She hadn’t heard the door open. She’d been waiting for him, trying to string together her words so that she could make an effective argument, and he’d surprised her.

She bit her lower lip. She was better at delivering an argument on paper than in person, but it was time she learned how to talk.

“I never left.”

Rafe indicated the door behind her. “Well, leave now.”

She stood her ground. “No, not until you actually hear me out.” And not until you say yes, she added silently. She began to talk quickly, knowing he was getting ready to cut her off. “The reason Mrs. Maitland never got in contact with you before is that, until just recently, she was as ignorant of you as you were of her. The point is—” Greer drew herself up “—you know about each other now and now is all that counts.”

He’d always admired guts, and he had to admit, she seemed to have guts in spades. Instead of throwing the woman out, he rethought the situation. If he gave her a condition she couldn’t meet, she’d be forced to withdraw and stop badgering him. And his conscience would be clean.

“You’re right,” he agreed. “Now is all that counts. If you’re so hot to get me there, fine. But I need a favor.” He leveled his gaze at her. “Now.”

The nervousness she’d been experiencing ever since she’d seen him walking toward her like a stalking panther intensified.

“What kind of favor?” She failed to keep the tension out of her voice.

A fragment of what the lawyer he’d gone to had said to him came back to Rafe. The attorney had told him that he would have an easier time of gaining custody of Bethany if he was married or at least engaged.

Okay, that was it. He looked at her. “I need a fiancée.”

It was to Greer’s credit that her mouth didn’t drop open. “I beg your pardon?”

He had her, Rafe thought triumphantly. He could almost hear the door closing behind her already.

“No need to beg anything. I made a promise to two friends, the best friends a man could ever want, and in order to keep that promise, it looks like I’m going to need a fiancée. A wife, really, but I don’t think I have to carry this act too far.” She was going to turn tail and run any second, he promised himself. “Tell me, Greer, do you want me to go to this Christmas thing enough to pretend to be my fiancée?”

This was insane. What he was asking was plain crazy. It went way above and beyond the call of duty to the point of being absurd. A fiancée.

She had no idea why she was even considering it.

Because, a tiny voice within her whispered, in all likelihood, this was going to be the closest she would ever get to being anyone’s fiancée or to wearing an engagement ring, other than staring at one through Tiffany’s window.

Besides, more than likely, the man was bluffing. If she met his bluff, he’d be forced to give in and give up. She smiled at him with a shade of triumph. She had him.

“Yes.”

She saw surprise register on his lean, tanned face, followed by shock. Greer congratulated herself on guessing correctly.

Self-congratulations were short-lived as she saw a smile beginning at the corners of his mouth. Though it was a small smile, it seemed to make all the difference in the world. His austere face turned heart-stoppingly handsome.

Greer felt her heart go into double-time before she could think to rein it in. The air turned several degrees warmer than it already was.

An uneasiness began to spread through her. What in heaven’s name had she just gotten herself into?




Chapter 2


Okay, Rafe thought, his mind racing as he pieced things together, realigning them in light of what had just transpired, maybe this whole reunion idea might actually work out to his benefit. His, and more important, Bethany’s.

Until the lady with the ridiculous name had pushed him a little too hard, he hadn’t been thinking along the lines of deception, but hell, he’d learned a long time ago that when an avalanche of lemons starts tumbling your way, you had damn well better learn how to make lemonade out of them fast.

This, he decided, was going to be lemonade.

All right, this was going to be a lie, he allowed, but it wasn’t the kind of lie his father habitually told. This was going to be a lie for a good purpose, and sometimes the end did justify the means. Especially if that end meant that he got to keep Bethany.

What he needed right now was a little something extra in his corner to tip the scales. After all, this was Lil’s uncle and aunt he was taking on in the courtroom, not her parents or grandparents, both of whom, had they been alive, would have had a lot more leverage than he did in the eyes of the court. The odds became a tiny bit better when the family connection was a little more distant, as it was in this case. If he had a few chips stacked on his side, he might just win this fight. And he needed to win, because he’d given his word.

And because Bethany had already won his heart. He couldn’t rightly see life without her anymore.

The first thing he had to do, he knew even without the attorney’s advice, was to make himself seem respectable and stable in the eyes of the family court judge. Never mind that he’d turned his life around these last few years, going from being a rootless hellion to a man who made a decent living as a foreman on a large ranch. He’d worked his way up to that, spending long, hard hours doing anything that needed doing and learning the ranching business while he was at it. Eventually, he intended to own his own horse ranch, but for now, he was content to work his butt off for a boss who was demanding but fair.

There was no doubt about it, he was nothing like the no-account gambler from Las Vegas he’d been on his way to becoming—just like his father.

But none of that really mattered. According to the lawyer he’d recently hired, what seemed to count heavily in the eyes of the court was his marital status. That and his standing in the community. He didn’t have much of a reputation in the community, keeping to himself whenever possible, and there was no way to turn himself into a pillar of that community in a short amount of time.

But he could pretend to be on his way to getting married. And, he’d only just realized, he did have connections that counted. Connections this slim-hipped, no-frills woman standing in his living room had just made him acutely aware of. Connections that just might help turn the tide for him.

Rafe widened his smile.

As a rule, he didn’t believe in riding on anyone else’s coattails. He’d gotten to where he was by relying only on himself ever since he’d been half his age. But rules wouldn’t be rules if they weren’t sometimes bent a little.

Even so, he wouldn’t be considering this under ordinary circumstances. But these weren’t ordinary circumstances. He had Bethany’s welfare to consider.

The pint-size little darling had been the center of Rory and Lil’s world and had quickly taken over that spot in his. If even half the things that Lil had said about her childhood were true, there was no way on God’s green earth he was going to allow Bethany to fall into the hands of Lil’s uncle and aunt. Lil had grown up in a world devoid of love and caring. He wanted Bethany to have a happy childhood, not an emotionally deprived one.

If achieving that goal meant having to be friendly with a woman who hadn’t given him, or his family for that matter, the time of day in all these years, he was up to it. He could play the game and pretend, ultimately giving Megan Maitland exactly what she deserved. Nothing. All things considered, the charade seemed like a small price to pay for Bethany’s welfare.

Rafe shoved his hands into his back pockets, straining the jeans against his hips. Very slowly, he circled Greer, studying her intently. She looked a little skittish to him. He’d seen horses with that look, all spit and polish on the outside but ready to bolt at the first loud sound they heard.

The last thing he wanted was to have her fold on him when the going got tough.

Rafe drew closer to Greer, still scrutinizing her. He watched her face. “You’re sure about this?”

She knew it. He was waiting for her to back down. Confidence began to return. This wasn’t really any different than a merger or an acquisition.

Except that mergers and acquisitions never wore worn, tight-fitting jeans that caused her mind to lose its focus and her pulse to do funny things.

Blocking out the sight, Greer raised her chin defiantly.

“I’m sure.”

“Great, you’ve got yourself a houseguest.”

Rafe put his hand out to hers. When she didn’t take it quickly enough, he took hers and wrapped his tanned fingers around it, gripping firmly. To his surprise, the limp handshake he expected didn’t materialize. Instead, after a beat, his mysterious aunt’s emissary shook his hand as firmly as any man he’d ever made a bargain with.

A handshake said a lot about a person. Maybe there was hope for the woman yet.

Those same nerves she’d felt earlier began to waltz through her again, picking up the tempo until they could have been accused of doing an old-fashioned jitterbug instead. They were especially prevalent along her arm. The arm that was connected to the hand that had been swallowed up by his.

It was all she could do to return the pressure of his grip. She knew he’d respect nothing less.

Taking care not to pull her hand away from his too quickly and give Rafe the impression that she was leery of him, Greer extricated her hand as she tried to sort out any misunderstandings before they had a chance to mushroom out of control.

“You’re not going to be my houseguest, you’ll be staying with Mrs. Maitland. The estate has a great many guest rooms.”

The smile on his lips moved slowly until it lit his face. Rafe knew exactly what she was thinking, though she was doing an admirable job of attempting to mask it. He’d come across fear more than once or twice himself and he was able to recognize the signs.

“This engagement is just for appearances. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

She’d be the judge of that. Men who looked like Rafe Maitland were always dangerous.

“Do you mind if I ask why you need a fiancée?” She raised her hands before he had a chance to accuse her of backing down. “Not that I’m reneging, I just need a few details if I’m going to be convincing in this part.”

Rafe caught himself watching her mouth as she spoke and looked up into her eyes instead. Her choice of words amused him. Convincing. Now, that was something that could lead to a great many interesting things. If he were in the market for that kind of thing. A couple of years ago, he might have been. But his wild days and his wild oats were all behind him. They had to be. He had a good job, a future and a baby to worry about. Women were the last thing to occupy his thoughts.

But before he could answer her, there was a knock on his front door. The next minute, it was being opened.

The dark-haired woman with the snapping brown eyes and the easy smile who entered was obviously not worried about standing on ceremony, Greer thought as she turned to see her walk in. She had a baby with her comfortably resting on her hip. The baby had dark hair, like she did.

The familiar way the woman looked at Rafe made Greer think they had an intimate relationship. Was she his girlfriend? His mistress? And why was he asking her to pose as his fiancée when this spit-fire was part of his life?

Greer squared her shoulders, feeling suddenly dowdy and lifeless despite the designer suit she had so carefully selected for her trip out here.

The woman flashed a smile at him, then at her. “Sorry, Rafe, I didn’t realize you had company.”

To Greer’s surprise, she saw him reaching for the woman’s baby. Was the little girl his? Why hadn’t Mrs. Maitland mentioned that he had a child? It didn’t seem like the type of oversight she’d make, given how she felt about children.

Maybe Mrs. Maitland hadn’t known, she realized.

Greer had the feeling that she was slipping deeper down the rabbit hole. What she needed right now was a rabbit with answers.

He could almost see the questions in Greer’s eyes. She was chewing on her lower lip, as if to bite them back.

“This isn’t company,” he told the woman as he took Bethany into his arms. “This is Greer.” He figured it was enough of an explanation. Rafe brushed a kiss against the top of the baby’s head. “So, how’re you doing, honey? Did you have a good day?”

In response, the baby made a cooing noise and he smiled as if she’d answered him. He tucked her against him comfortably. The little girl contented herself with playing with the buttons on his shirt.

Taking the initiative, the woman stepped forward and took Greer’s hand in hers. Her smile was genuine even as she swept her eyes over Greer, making a quick appraisal.

“Hello, I’m Alyssa Martinez.” She inclined her head to indicate somewhere beyond the small ranch house. “I help my father with the cooking at the main house, when I’m not watching Bethany. She’s a regular pistol, this one.”

Greer returned the handshake before dropping her hand to her side. For a second, she couldn’t think of anything to say. Women like Alyssa Martinez had been making her feel inferior all of her life. Not deliberately, they did it just by existing. They were bold, vital, and everything looked good on them. So did nothing. Alyssa’s obvious curves, even beneath the peasant blouse and wide skirt she wore, made Greer acutely aware of her almost boyish figure.

Oh, sure, she worked out when she could find the time and that kept her body lean and toned, but it never coaxed forward any curves. For that miracle to occur, she would have had to have submitted to a surgeon’s scalpel and she wasn’t about to do that.

Besides, there was no one to do it for, so the point, even if she had been inclined to consider it, was a moot one. There was no one to make herself pretty for, no one to keep in mind when she shopped for clothes. The items in her closet were all tasteful and from the best stores, but they lacked imagination and color. She didn’t see the need for it.

“Can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear,” Mrs. Malone had told her more than once while she was growing up. Mrs. Malone had run the children’s shelter where she had spent most of her youth, and the message had stuck that much more because Mrs. Malone had meant it to be kind. To prevent her from being set up for any future disappointments. “A girl has to know her limits, you know,” she’d firmly asserted.

And Greer knew hers.

“I’m Greer Lawford,” Greer finally said, retreating to the persona she was most comfortable with, the one she had created when she’d forged out into the corporate world. That Greer was strong and confident, good at whatever she did no matter what it was she chose to do.

In high school she’d discovered that she had an aptitude for learning, and ever since, she had made a point of acquainting herself with whatever world she ventured into. Not just learning about it but mastering it. Like a person deprived of one sense, she made the others that much more sensitive and acute in order to compensate. In her case, she figured that what she lacked was looks. She was determined to make up for it with brains.

And by making herself indispensable to the person she worked for. Which was why she was here when she would much rather be behind a desk, manning phones and pulling together the two hundred and twenty-nine different strings that were involved in making this holiday reunion a success.

She forced herself to return Alyssa’s smile. “I work for Mrs. Megan Maitland.”

Alyssa looked at Rafe. “Maitland. Is that your mother?”

Bethany was trying to chew on one of his buttons. Rafe drew it away from her mouth. “My aunt, according to Greer.”

Why was it that every time he said her name, she had the impression he was going to follow it with a full-bellied laugh? Greer wasn’t that ridiculous a name, she thought defensively.

Alyssa looked surprised and oddly tickled. “Hey, I didn’t know you had a family.”

Rafe shrugged dismissively. He didn’t really like talking about any of his family.

“A very large family,” Greer said before Rafe had the opportunity to say anything. She had a feeling there was a disclaimer on his lips and she didn’t want to give him a chance to utter it. “And Mrs. Maitland wants to gather everyone together in Texas for a big family celebration this year.”

Her arms devoid of the baby, Alyssa smoothed down her shirt and looked at Rafe with what appeared to be a touch of hope. “Sounds like fun. You going to go?”

Afraid he was going to say no, Greer jumped in to answer. “Yes, he is.”

Dark brows drew together over a nose that could almost be called delicate. Greer wondered if he resembled his mother or his father.

“Don’t get carried away with this engagement thing,” he warned her. “I can still do my own talking and my own answering.”

“Engagement?” Alyssa echoed. Curiosity quickly painted itself across her fine features along with more than a touch of disappointment. “When did all this happen?”

“It didn’t,” Rafe told her, switching Bethany to his other side. The area around half his buttons was wet from the toddler’s questing mouth and grasping fingers. “I figured an ‘engagement’ was the best way to keep Bethany and my word to Rory and Lil.”

“But it’s not real.” Alyssa sounded as if she wanted to make perfectly certain of that fact.

“No, it’s not real,” Rafe assured her.

“Oh.” Alyssa nodded, obviously understanding what he was saying.

But she didn’t, Greer thought, and she decided it was time someone filled her in. She turned, looking at Rafe. “I think we’ve come full circle, Mr. Maitland.”

“I think if we’re going to be engaged, you’d better call me Rafe. And,” he added, shaking his head at Bethany, who was once again reaching for his shirt and the fascinating buttons, “you’d better learn how to talk a whole lot plainer than that.” Rafe looked at Greer, his brow raised. “What do you mean, full circle?”

She could feel Alyssa studying her. Her discomfort grew. “Well, I asked you to explain to me why you need a fiancée and you were about to tell me when the door opened.” She spared Alyssa a glance.

To underscore his point, Rafe grasped Bethany by the waist with both hands and held her up. The little girl laughed and cooed, then clapped her hands as if this were a familiar game between them.

“This—” he nodded at Bethany “—is why I need a fiancée.”

Greer still wasn’t quite following him. “Your daughter?”

“Not yet.” Lowering her, he tucked Bethany against him again with a practiced movement Greer found intriguing. Most men she knew were uncomfortable with children that size. “But she will be once I can file adoption papers.” His face grew grave. “In order to do that, I have to have clear claim to her.”

“And you don’t,” Greer guessed. For someone who gave the impression that he was a man of few words, he certainly seemed to like stretching things out.

He scowled, thinking of the threat that Lil’s relatives posed. “No, not right now.”

Still confused, Greer looked to the other woman for a further explanation, but there was no enlightenment coming from that quarter.

“I’d better be getting back,” Alyssa announced suddenly, as if she’d just become aware of the time. “I have to be putting dinner on the table soon. Mr. Owen doesn’t like to be kept waiting. If you need anything—” she underlined the word, looking at Rafe “—just call. Nice meeting you,” she added as an afterthought, glancing at Greer. The next moment, Alyssa slipped out the front door.

“Same here,” Greer murmured, her voice utterly flat.

Rafe caught the uncomfortable note in her voice and looked at her curiously.

She didn’t care for the way he seemed to be continually scrutinizing her. It made her feel awkward, as if she were found wanting. To get his attention off her and back to her yet unanswered questions, Greer nodded at Bethany. “Whose baby is that?”

Because of the hour, Bethany had begun settling down. He knew that Alyssa had already changed and fed her. He stroked the fine, dark hair. “She belonged to Lil and Rory Butler.”

Greer picked up on the past tense. “The friends you mentioned earlier?”

“You were paying attention.” A minor smile gracing his lips, Rafe nodded his approval.

If there was one thing these schoolmarm types were, it was sticklers for detail. He figured that having her in the courtroom as his fiancée might impress the judge enough to make him see things Rafe’s way. After all, he was young, with his whole life in front of him, and the Prestons were well past their primes. Too old to be taking care of a one-year-old, really, he reasoned.

“I always pay attention,” she informed him.

He didn’t like the coolness in her voice. You would have thought he’d insulted her.

“Good.” His voice was crisp, matching hers. “Then I won’t have to repeat myself. Lil and Rory were killed in a car accident a little more than a month ago. I always knew they wanted me to be Bethany’s guardian, but it’s not really the kind of thing you pay attention to when the people you’re talking to are twenty-three years old and in perfect health.”

If he had paid attention, maybe he would have tried to talk them out of it, he thought. Tried to make them pick someone else who could give Bethany more than he could. But what was done was done and, Rafe had to admit, he doubted if anyone could care as much for the little girl as he did.

“Anyway, after the accident I took Bethany in, and not long after that, I heard from some guy claiming that he represented Lil’s aunt and uncle and that they were coming for the baby.”

Most men she knew would have been relieved to relinquish the responsibility of raising a toddler. Especially alone. Her own mother had seen fit to leave her sitting alone in the last pew of a church when she was barely three. That was where she was told they’d found her. Curled up, asleep in a pew with only the clothes on her back and a battered stuffed animal that was so worn it was unidentifiable.

“That would make things easier for you.”

He couldn’t quite read her comment. She wasn’t one of these liberated females who looked down their noses at families, was she? Not that it mattered if she played her part right.

If.

That was the all-important word.

Of course, if he could find the softer side of Megan Maitland, he might be able to get the woman to use her influence and settle things for him, then there’d be no need to continue the engagement charade.

The thought of using his aunt’s influence didn’t sit well with him, even though he wasn’t planning to use it for any personal monetary gain.

Because it raised issues he just didn’t have time to sort through, Rafe put the whole thing out of his mind for now.

“Sometimes ‘easy’ isn’t the best way. I gave my word and I intend to stick by it.”

Rafe didn’t add that giving Bethany up would create a giant-size hole in his heart. The little girl had created a space for herself that he’d never expected to be there. He wasn’t given to attachments or bonding. But he had bonded with the little lady in his arms and he intended to do right by her. No matter what it took or what it cost him.

This wasn’t making any sense to Greer. “And you honestly think that by lying to the court, you’ll get to retain custody?”

He didn’t like being judged. Especially not by a stranger who had no idea what was involved. His eyes grew flinty as he looked at her. “Call it a stopgap maneuver. Until I can come up with something better.”

Her breath caught in her throat. There was no reason to feel as though she’d just been put in her place, and yet she did.

“It’s not a bad idea,” Greer said, backpedaling in case Mrs. Maitland’s long lost nephew thought she was criticizing him. She didn’t want to take a chance on losing him after she’d gotten him to agree to come, albeit with an unusual addendum. “But why didn’t you ask Alyssa to pretend to be your fiancée?” In Greer’s estimation, the fiery-looking woman would have been far more believable in the role. Rafe and Alyssa looked as if they belonged together.

Quite simply, the answer was that he’d only just now thought of the ruse. And asking Alyssa to pose as his fiancée might get sticky. He knew she had more than a passing liking for him, and while he was flattered, he didn’t want to get his life tangled up with anyone else’s at present. Bethany was the only female he could safely handle for the time being.

Rafe took the easy way out. “Because she’s not asking me to go off to Austin and pretend to be happy about some reunion.”

They seemed doomed to continue getting off on the wrong foot. “I’m not asking you to pretend to be happy about it—”

“Good, one less thing to do.” Bethany began fussing against him. He’d gotten good at telling the different noises apart. This one meant she was sleepy.

“I think you’re going about this all wrong.”

Didn’t this woman every stop flapping her gums? “And ‘this’ would be…?”

“The Christmas reunion.” She was beginning to think he was deliberately being difficult. “It’s supposed to be fun.”

“I’ll put on my happy face,” he promised her, sarcasm tingeing his words. And then he thought of something. They couldn’t just say they were engaged and expect the judge to believe them. He needed something to serve as outward proof that he was serious.

“Here, hold her for a minute.”

Not waiting for Greer to say anything, he thrust the baby toward her.

Surprised, Greer had no choice but to take the fussing baby into arms that were far more adept at holding on to stacks of tightly bound quarterly financial reports.

Then, to her further dismay, Rafe walked away from her.

“Where are you going?” she called after him. The baby squirmed in her arms.

“To get something” was all he said.

As Greer tried to hold on to Bethany without dropping her, her dismay deepened. This time it was a pint-size fiery womanette who was making her feel that she was decidedly out of her element. Large or small, the end result was the same.

With a sigh, Greer looked toward the room that Rafe had disappeared into. Now what?




Chapter 3


Once in his bedroom, it took Rafe only a few seconds to locate what he was looking for. The item was just where he’d left it, tucked in the back of the top drawer of the lone nightstand that stood by his bed. He’d never thought he’d have any use for it.

Taking it out, he rubbed his thumb over the top of the black velvet box. Strange the way some things worked out. When he’d won this from Albert Hackett that long weekend he, Albert and a couple of the other hands had played poker until dawn, he’d had every intention of going into town and selling it at the pawnshop the first chance he got. At the time, he’d had no more use for an engagement ring than Albert had. But he’d never gotten around to selling it and now, it looked as if that was a good thing. The ring was going to come in handy.

Closing the drawer, he walked back out into the living room and then stopped dead. If he’d ever seen anyone who looked more awkward than this woman as she tried to hold Bethany, he certainly couldn’t recall it. He didn’t think that even he’d been this ungainly the first time Lil had had him hold the baby. Weren’t women supposed to have some kind of a natural instinct when it came to babies? If so, someone must have forgotten to tell the Lawford woman that.

He shook his head as he crossed to Greer. It was a wonder she hadn’t dropped Bethany.

“You’re holding her like she was a sack of solidified sugar.” She looked as if his comment embarrassed her. That hadn’t been his intention and it chafed his conscience a little, which made him all the more short-tempered. “Haven’t you ever held a baby before?”

Greer turned toward him, relieved that he’d returned. Afraid of dropping Bethany, she’d begun to wonder if he was ever coming back. She had no idea that babies wiggled so much. The shrug was careless and self-conscious.

“No. It was never part of my job description.”

He held off taking Bethany for a minute, amused at the way Greer was holding the baby out to him, as if she were a wriggling snake that could at any moment turn and bite her. “Only child?” he guessed.

Something within her darkened. She wasn’t here to discuss her background, or the lack of it.

“Something like that.” Why was he just looking at her? Why wasn’t he taking the baby? “Would you like to take your daughter-to-be back?”

“Sure, I’ll trade you.”

It was then that she saw he was holding a small black velvet box in his hand. The kind rings were found in. But that was silly. It seemed odd that Rafe had an engagement ring just lying around. It wasn’t as if it was a spare tire or an extra pair of jeans to be kept around in case of emergencies. The kind of rings that were housed in velvet boxes were expensive.

“All right.” Gingerly, she began to negotiate the transfer. Just then, Bethany grabbed a strand of her hair and wound her fingers around it tightly. As the baby pulled hard, tears of pain sprang to Greer’s eyes. “Ow!”

“Hold it,” he warned. “I think we’ve got a snag here.”

Think? “What was your first clue?” Greer all but yelped.

Rafe laughed under his breath in response. Holding Bethany in the crook of his arm, the velvet box in the same hand, he used his free one to extricate Greer’s hair from Bethany’s grasp. For a baby, Bethany had a pretty strong grip. Like her dad, Rafe thought, sadness spearing him.

He took a step back in case Bethany tried to make another grab for Greer. The hair she’d clutched remained all stuck together.

He grinned. “I think you might want to wash that. Looks like Alyssa gave her something sticky to play with just before she brought her over.”

“Terrific,” Greer muttered.

Gingerly, she ran her fingers over the strand of hair that had been rescued. Rafe was right. It was decidedly sticky. Candy sticky. She probably looked like something straight out of a Halloween night, Greer thought glumly. Battling mushrooming embarrassment, Greer tried to smooth down the stiff strand of hair with her hand and knew she was probably only making things worse. She couldn’t wait to get back to her hotel room and take a hot shower. An extra-long hot shower to work all this tension out of her shoulders. Not to mention the rest of her.

“Maybe you’d like to wash your hands,” he suggested. Not waiting for an answer, Rafe led the way to his bedroom. Opening the door, he kicked aside the pair of jeans he’d left on the floor. “Bathroom’s right through there.” He pointed toward the open door at the far end of the room.

“Thanks.”

Walking into the room, she was exceedingly conscious of being in a man’s bedroom. It wasn’t something she was even remotely familiar with. The only men she had come in contact with until recently all wore three-piece suits and faced her across a boardroom table, not a bedroom.

She tried not to pay attention to the rumpled, unmade bed with its comforter dripping down onto the floor, or the thought of Rafe being in it. She tried even harder to ignore the jeans he’d kicked aside, the ones he’d stripped off earlier and left on the floor on his way to the shower.

Despite her efforts, the maleness of the room insisted on assaulting her from all sides.

Washing her hands quickly, Greer hurried away from the intimate surroundings as soon as she could, before their impression could have a chance to sink in any further than it already had.

When she returned to the living room, she found Rafe sitting on the sofa. Oblivious to her, he was busy playing with the baby.

She couldn’t help noting how at ease he seemed. His legs crossed, he was holding Bethany on one knee and jostling her in a simulated pony ride that had the little girl shrieking with delight.

He seemed like the perfect father, she thought. Just showed how initial impressions were deceiving. Seeing him earlier, she would have said that the only place the man could have been at ease was in a saddle.

Or a woman’s bed.

The thought snuck up on her, making her cheeks warm before she had a chance to shake it off. Terrific, she thought disdainfully, they were probably pink again. He was going to think she was some kind of trembling, backward vestal virgin.

He glanced up and realized that Greer had walked back into the room and was watching him. Ending the impromptu pony ride, he rose to his feet. With Bethany in his arms, he walked over to a playpen in the corner. Tucked into an alcove that doubled as a makeshift study, complete with a small, second-hand desk, it was almost out of sight.

Looking at it, Greer thought the playpen seemed completely out of place within the very masculine room.

“You stay here for a few minutes, honey,” he told the baby. Turning his attention back to Greer, Rafe held out the velvet box he’d gotten from his room. “Here, if you’re going to pretend to be my fiancée, I think you might need this.”

Greer had no idea why she felt so nervous taking the box from him. After all, this was just pretend. She opened it, and even though it was a typical ring box, she was still surprised when she found herself looking down at the contents.

“It’s a ring.”

For just a moment, she’d looked like a little girl, afraid of being disappointed at Christmas as she opened the one gift that mattered, he thought.

“Sure it’s a ring.” He drew a little closer to her, intrigued by her expression. “What did you think it was going to be, a washer?”

“No, but—” Astonished, she raised her eyes to his face. “It’s an engagement ring.”

She left the rest unspoken, but it was clear that she was having trouble understanding why a cowboy would just happen to have an engagement ring sitting around in his bedroom.

He wasn’t sure if he should be taking offense or not. “Yes, so?”

Exasperation flittered through her. Why did he insist on dragging things out? He knew what she was asking him. “So what’s a cowboy on a horse ranch in the middle of Nevada doing with an engagement ring in his bedroom bureau?”

“It was in the nightstand,” he corrected her. He saw impatience crease her brow and got a kick out of it. “And civilization has managed to reach here.”

She blew out a breath. She wasn’t trying to insult him; she was just trying to make sense out of this.

“That’s not what I meant. Most people don’t just ‘happen’ to have engagement rings lying around.” And then the answer hit her. She’d put her foot into it, hadn’t she? It wouldn’t be the first time. When it came to her private life, social skills were not exactly high on her list of accomplishments. “Did you…I mean did someone…?”

Damn it, he’d been engaged, she realized, and something had gone wrong and now she was making things worse by artlessly prodding. Why couldn’t she just leave well enough alone? She flushed. Her tongue always seemed to fail her when it came to private matters.

He’d never seen that shade of red on a woman’s face before.

“No, no one jilted me, if that’s what you’re getting at. I won the ring in a poker game.” He saw her embarrassment ebb away, replaced by a touch of suspicion. He could guess what she was thinking. “Don’t worry, it’s real. The guy I won it from was the jilted one. Actually, his woman ran off with someone else before he ever had a chance to give it to her properly. He figured hanging on to the ring brought him bad luck.” That had been Albert’s story, but it had come after the man had had more than his share to drink. Rafe laughed shortly under his breath. “At least it did that night when he was playing poker.”

Greer stared at the orphaned engagement ring for a long moment, words failing her. It was beautiful. Small, it twinkled like a perfect star that had fallen out of the sky.

“Well, don’t just keep staring at it, try it on.” Before she could, Rafe plucked the ring out of its velvet seat. Taking her left hand in his, he slid the ring on her finger. It went on easily. Rafe smiled. “How about that, it fits.”

The moment he slipped the ring onto her finger, she could feel something tingling all through her body. Like magic.

Silly thought, she upbraided herself. But the feeling didn’t go away.

“Yes,” she answered quietly, “it does.”

Their eyes met for a moment, and then he released her hand. He slid his own into his back pockets. “I guess it’s official, then. We’re engaged.”

She forced a smile to her lips, her stomach churning. She started feeling an odd queasiness. “When’s the wedding?” When he looked at her in silence, she added, “That’s a joke.”

“Yeah, but people are going to ask that.” He thought for a moment. “How about Valentine’s Day? Sounds like a good day to get married.”

Valentine’s Day. Could he have come up with a more romantic thought? Not in her estimation. She looked at the man in amazement.

“Yes, sure. Perfect day.”

The words emerged in muted staccato beats as she looked back down at the gleaming globe of fire-light on her finger. The sunlight that filled the room pushed itself into the stone, shooting out beams of yellow, white and blue as she moved her outstretched hand.

His mouth curved. To look at her, you would have thought that she’d never…

Maybe she never had, he suddenly thought. Maybe there’d never been anyone special in this woman’s life, to make her feel special. Looking at Greer, he could believe it. The woman was plain, though he had to admit she had beautiful eyes.

Well, whether or not she’d ever been engaged or married didn’t make any difference to him. He just needed her services long enough for the family court hearing—or until he got Megan Maitland to throw her support his way. He had a feeling her name could open up a lot of doors, make things easier. If that sounded a little cold, maybe it was, but he’d learned a long time ago that it was best to leave his conscience and emotions at the door when it came to getting necessary things done. They only got in the way in the long run.

Trying hard to get this strange, unsettled feeling traveling through her under some kind of control, Greer dropped her hand to her side. But she fisted it so that she could run her thumb along the edge of the band just to assure herself that the ring was actually there.

Part of her still felt that this was all just a little surreal. She looked at Rafe, summoning her best corporate demeanor, knowing that it was best to keep to business.

“So if I go through with this, pretend to be your fiancée, you’re really going to come back to Austin with me? For Mrs. Maitland’s reunion?” she added.

She knew she was repeating herself, but she wanted to make absolutely certain that there was no room for a misunderstanding. Or grounds for him to back down.

With a sensible-looking woman like this at his side, the judge was certain to think he would make a stable home for Bethany, Rafe thought. “How soon would I have to leave?”

Greer hesitated for a moment. She knew Mrs. Maitland’s preferences, but she wasn’t sure how they would go over with Rafe. “Actually, she was hoping to meet you as soon as possible.”

Was the woman crazy? “This is September. Just how long a celebration was she planning?”

But then, he supposed cynically, what else did rich people who didn’t have to work for a living have to do with themselves? She probably partied continually.

Greer did her best to ignore the sarcasm in Rafe’s voice.

“Mrs. Maitland realizes that you can’t just pick up and go somewhere for three months, but she was hoping you might be able to come to Austin for a short visit and then return for the reunion in December. She’d like you to meet the rest of the family.”

Having pulled herself up onto her feet, Bethany was rattling the sides of her playpen, signaling that she thought she’d been ignored long enough. Rafe crossed to the little girl and bent over the playpen to pick her up. Only then did he turn to Greer.

“Why?”

He was being antagonistic again. She had thought they’d gotten past this part. Obviously not. Greer reverted to her role of chief assistant, leaving behind her own persona, the one that caused her to appear so ineffectual. It was a great deal easier for her to operate as if she were devoid of feelings.

“Because family has always been extremely important to Mrs. Maitland. She understands what it’s like to be alone…”

Rafe looked at her sharply. He had absolutely no patience with people who were given to pretense. “Yeah, right.”

Greer immediately leaped to the defense of the woman she’d grown to admire so deeply in such a short amount of time. Megan Maitland was everything she’d ever wanted to be: confident, kind, generous and well respected in addition to being well liked.

“No, really.” She followed Rafe and the baby to the sofa. “She’s lived through a great deal in her life and she didn’t always have it easy—”

Rafe raised his eyebrows in mock sympathy. “What, the dilemma of which party to go to, what dress to wear to what ball?”

The smirk on his face irritated her beyond words. Greer was surprised by her own reaction. She didn’t ordinarily become incensed so quickly. “You always ride around with that chip on your shoulder?”

He began to tell her what she could do with her opinion but caught himself just in time. There was a baby present and he wasn’t about to use strong language around her. “Hey, any chips I have, I came by honestly.”

“So did your aunt, except she doesn’t wear them.” Because he didn’t immediately jump in with a retort, she hurried to continue. “At seventeen, she was poorer than dirt and working for a living….”

He was certain that this woman’s definition of poor differed from his own. Despite her colorful description, he had his doubts about how poor his aunt had been. After all, William Maitland wouldn’t have thrown his lot in with some waif or bimbo.

“Well, she certainly has worked her way up into the lap of luxury, hasn’t she?”

The irritated look on her face gave way to a knowing one. Rafe had lied to her when he’d claimed that he didn’t know who Megan Maitland or any of the Maitlands were. He’d just proved it.

“Then you really do know who she is.”

He didn’t like her tone. It insinuated that he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. “I’ve already said so. And what if I have heard of Megan Maitland? It doesn’t change anything in my life.”

That was just the point behind this reunion. “It might if you let it.”

“Why?” he asked with a sneer, shifting Bethany to his other side. It was getting late and he had to get her to bed. “Is ‘Aunt’ Megan going to adopt me?”

He knew it was counterproductive to his cause to assume the attitude he was taking, but he couldn’t help feeling somewhat contemptuous of the aunt who was summoning him now like a queen summoning some poor relation or peasant. What was her angle? In the world he’d grown up in, everyone had always had an angle or was looking to skim something off the top. His father had taught him that by word and example.

Maybe it was her imagination, but Greer thought she detected just a strain of hurt beneath the contempt. It surprised her that Rafe and she could actually relate on some level. She knew all about being ignored.

“No, but your aunt will make you feel as if you’re a part of something if you let her.”





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