“Asking questions is second nature to me.”

Tyler had nothing more to hide. “You can ask me anything you want to, as long as I can reserve the right not to answer.”

“Deal.” Maddie held out her hand to shake on it.

Tyler ignored it and leaned closer to press a kiss to her lips. He fought the temptation to linger and savor the sensations the simplest touch stirred in him.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“Our deal was too important for anything less than a kiss to seal it.”

“Kisses have a way of getting us in trouble,” she reminded him.

He grinned. “Then we’ll just have to practice until they’re no longer any danger.”

Maddie responded with a low chuckle. “I don’t see that happening, Tyler.”

“What? The practicing?”

“No, making them less dangerous.”

He regarded her evenly. “You may be right about that, darlin’. You definitely may be right about that.”

Dear Reader,

The most wonderful time of the year just got better! These six captivating romances from Special Edition are sure to brighten your holidays.

Reader favorite Sherryl Woods is back by popular demand with the latest addition to her series AND BABY MAKES THREE: THE DELACOURTS OF TEXAS. In The Delacourt Scandal, a curious reporter seeking revenge unexpectedly finds love.

And just in time for the holidays, Lisa Jackson kicks off her exciting new miniseries THE MCCAFFERTYS with The McCaffertys: Thorne, where a hero’s investigation takes an interesting turn when he finds himself face-to-face with his ex-lover. Unwrap the next book in A RANCHING FAMILY, a special gift this month from Victoria Pade. In The Cowboy’s Gift-Wrapped Bride, a Wyoming rancher is startled not only by his undeniable attraction to an amnesiac beauty he found in a blizzard, but also by the tantalizing secrets she reveals as she regains her memory.

And in RUMOR HAS IT…, a couple separated by tragedy in the past finally has a chance for love in Penny Richards’s compelling romance, Lara’s Lover. The holiday cheer continues with Allison Leigh’s emotional tale of a runaway American heiress who becomes a Mother in a Moment after she agrees to be nanny to a passel of tots.

And silver wedding bells are ringing as Nikki Benjamin wraps up the HERE COME THE BRIDES series with the heartwarming story of a hometown hero who convinces his childhood sweetheart to become his Expectant Bride-To-Be.

I hope all of these breathtaking romances warm your hearts and add joy to your holiday season.

Best,

Karen Taylor Richman

Senior Editor

The Delacourt Scandal
Sherryl Woods

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SHERRYL WOODS

Whether she’s living in California, Florida or Virginia, Sherryl Woods always makes her home by the sea. A walk on the beach, the sound of waves, the smell of the salt air, all provide inspiration for this writer of more than sixty romance and mystery novels, fifty of which have been published by Silhouette Books. Sherryl hopes you’re enjoying these latest entries in the AND BABY MAKES THREE series for Silhouette Special Edition. You can write to Sherryl or—from April through December—stop by and meet her at her bookstore, Potomac Sunrise, 308 Washington Avenue, Colonial Beach, VA 22443.

Dear Reader,

For someone who once measured her writing in column inches for newspapers, the mere idea of writing an entire book was daunting. To have written fifty books for Silhouette staggers me.

I am so fortunate to be able to tell the kind of strong, family-oriented stories I love for a publisher who understands and appreciates the empowering value of romance in a woman’s life.

And best of all, I have had the chance to touch the lives of so many readers. Thank you for spending your time with my books and for sharing your thoughts with me. I hope we’ll be together another fifty books from now.

With all good wishes,

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Prologue

“Bryce Delacourt is the most powerful, sanctimonious man in all of Texas, so, yes, if you can find a way to bring him down, by all means do it,” Griffin Carpenter said, his wrinkled face an inscrutable mask. Only the tell-tale blaze of excitement in his black eyes indicated to Maddie Kent the intensity of his passion for this particular story.

No one knew why Carpenter had it in for the power brokers of Texas, but he’d made it his life’s work to expose their foibles. In his late fifties now, he’d been described alternately as an ambitious crusader or a vengeful, mean-spirited man. Maddie didn’t care which he was or what his reasons were. Those were the words she had been waiting most of her life to hear, the chance she’d worked her butt off to get.

The Delacourts had ruined her family, and now they were finally going to pay. If there was so much as a hint of a scandal in their past, so much as a whiff of illegalities in their business dealings at Delacourt Oil, she would find it. And she would expose them for the heartless, rotten human beings they were behind their facade of generosity and family loyalty and perfection.

Her own passion for the hunt had been a long time building. She had been ten when her father had come home one day to announce that he’d been fired, cast aside because of a simple mistake that anyone could have made. As he told it, it had been nothing more than an accounting error that should have meant nothing to someone with the Delacourt wealth.

But Bryce Delacourt was a hard man, and so Frank Kent found himself out of work without a reference. He would never work as an accountant again, at least not for a company of any size or respectability. Delacourt had seen to that.

The humiliation of it had broken the man Maddie had adored. For five years, his self-esteem in tatters, he had moved from one dead-end job to another, never earning more than minimum wage. His family had suffered far more due to his increasing depression than because of the lack of income. The warm, generous man who’d been involved in every aspect of his children’s lives was gone, lost in lonely, self-imposed isolation and bitterness.

When Maddie was fifteen, her father committed suicide. He’d almost botched the attempt and had lain in a coma for two horrendous weeks before finally getting his wish and dying.

That final act of a sad and desperate man had all but destroyed the family, financially and emotionally. Maddie’s mother had retreated into her own private hell, aided by alcohol. Her brothers had turned into street thugs to get what they wanted. Only Maddie had used that defining moment to strengthen her resolve to succeed. She had vowed at her father’s grave that one day she would be in a position to make the Delacourts feel that same kind of pain.

Now, thanks to Griffin Carpenter, she had her chance. She didn’t care why Carpenter hated Bryce Delacourt or any of the others who fell victim to his paper’s venom. It was enough that the publisher’s agenda matched her own. Most newspapers in the state were in awe of the Delacourt wealth and power, but Carpenter had his own resources and a pit bull’s tenacity when it came to digging up dirt on the entrenched power brokers of the state.

Carpenter’s Dallas-based tabloid, Hard Truths, was a wealthy Texan’s worst nightmare. His reporters turned over rocks and crept through back alleys in search of scandal. More often than not, they found it, then took delight in sharing it with the public in the most colorful terms possible.

It was not the sort of journalism Maddie had trained for or respected. She’d attended one of the nation’s best journalism schools, taken her fair share of courses in media ethics and responsibility. And she intended to follow all of those rules with absolute diligence—once she had written this one exposé….

For now, though, she was happy to be Carpenter’s newest recruit, and she intended to be his best. In no time at all the Delacourts would be making headlines, and for once it wouldn’t be on the society or business pages. She planned to make them the talk of Texas, until they understood humiliation as intimately as her father had.

She gazed across the wide mahogany expanse of Griffin Carpenter’s desk, straight into eyes glinting with anticipation.

“I won’t let you down,” she vowed to her boss.

Then she mentally whispered the same words to the father she had lost so long ago.

Chapter One

Tyler couldn’t help noticing the woman sitting at the other end of the bar. She had been there for the past week. Petite, with auburn hair cut boyishly short, she had a sweet face with a very kissable mouth—innocence and the promise of sin combined. Tonight she was wearing a prim little white blouse and a bright red skirt that kept creeping up, revealing a very shapely thigh. More of that intriguing innocence-sin contradiction.

She was a plucky little thing, fending off passes with a few words and an engaging smile, nursing what appeared to be ginger ale. What she was doing here in the first place was beyond him. She wasn’t looking for a man, that was clear enough. Nor did she drink. And yet here she was at O’Reilly’s, night after night, same stool, same bland, disinterested expression, same polite brush-offs.

In times past Tyler would have taken that as a challenge. Harmless flirting with a beautiful woman was second nature to him, as it had been to his brothers. Any one of the Delacourt males would have moved closer and satisfied his curiosity.

At the moment, though, Tyler just wasn’t up to his usual casual banter. He had way too much on his mind. His whole future, for instance.

Until a week ago he’d been out on a rig in the Gulf of Mexico off the Louisiana coast for three straight months, trying to forget the past, trying to lose himself in hard, physical, mind-numbing work. At the end of the day all he cared about was a cold beer, a rare steak and sleep. That was the way he wanted it, the way he needed his life to be—clear and uncomplicated. Women were a definite complication. Family was both a blessing and a curse. He’d intended to steer clear of both for the foreseeable future.

Then the edict had come down that all Delacourts were required to be in Houston for his parents’ fortieth anniversary bash. Even Trish, who never came back to Houston if she could avoid it, had been corralled into attending. Only his brother Michael had escaped, because he and Grace were away on their honeymoon.

There was nothing on earth Tyler hated more than being all dressed up in a fancy tux, unless it was being back in an office. In the past week he’d found himself in both these situations.

And if Bryce Delacourt had his way, Tyler would stay in Houston indefinitely. Judging from his father’s offhand comments, Tyler had a hunch that this time it was going to be a whole lot harder to wrangle his way out of the Delacourt Oil corporate headquarters and back onto a rig. He envied Trish and Dylan their escapes to the peace and tranquility of Los Piños all the way across the state. They were back there now, out of their father’s reach, while Tyler was still here, still very much under his thumb.

He took a sip of his beer and wondered if the time hadn’t finally come to cut the family ties completely—professionally speaking, anyway. He wouldn’t be the only one in the family to do it.

His oldest brother, Dylan, had been the first to shun the family business, infuriating their father by setting up shop as a private eye. Then Trish had managed to slip away to another city, have a baby and open her second bookstore—all before their father had caught up with her just in time to see her wed a rancher. Jeb had one foot in Dylan’s business, which he’d moved to Los Piños after his marriage to a pediatrician there, and another at corporate headquarters, but he managed to stay out from under Bryce Delacourt’s control most of the time.

Only Michael relished being at the helm of a multinational oil company and, ironically, their father couldn’t seem to see that he was the only one really suited for the job. Usually Michael provided adequate cover for Tyler, but his current absence had reminded their father that he had one remaining son he could groom for the executive suite.

More than the others, Tyler hated the thought of disappointing his father, but he hated paperwork even more. He shuddered at the prospect of facing a lifetime of it. There were oil companies around the country—around the world, for that matter—that would be happy to hire someone with his lifelong history in the business, with his expertise and willingness to work endless hours, with his daring and fearless approach to oil exploration. Maybe it was time to check into some of them. Maybe it was time to stop worrying so much about being a dutiful Delacourt and worry more about being himself.

His thoughts dark, he barely glanced up when the woman from the other end of the bar slid onto the stool next to him. For once the prospect of an evening’s flirtation didn’t do a thing to lighten his mood. He just wanted to be left alone to wrestle with the past and with the decision that had to be made about the future.

“Hi,” she said, leveling amber eyes straight at him until he finally met her gaze.

“Hi, yourself.”

“I’ve seen you here before.”

“Every night this week,” he agreed, turning back to the beer he’d been nursing, hoping she would take the hint and go away.

“I thought you’d make a pass by now.”

The offhand observation caught his attention. He regarded her with a wry look. “Did you now?”

“You’re the only male in this place who hasn’t.” She made the claim with a surprising lack of conceit and just a hint of puzzlement.

Tyler regarded her with amusement. “Since you turned down every one of them, I figured I’d cut my losses and save myself the trouble.”

“Then you were interested?”

“Any male with blood still pumping through his veins is interested in an attractive female.”

Suddenly her expression brightened. “You think I’m attractive?”

He shook his head. “Don’t be coy. Of course you are.”

“I know that,” she said with a touch of impatience. “I just wasn’t sure if you did. I wasn’t certain you’d even noticed me. You looked kind of lost, as if you were off in another world and not too happy about it. That’s why I decided to break my rule.”

“What rule is that?”

“I never, ever, talk to men I don’t know, not without a proper introduction. I’m Maddie, by the way. Maddie Kent. It’s Madison, technically, but whoever heard of a woman named that? I think it was a family name on my mother’s side. She was convinced it could be traced back to James Madison, but I never saw any proof of it.” She beamed at him. “Who are you?”

“Tyler,” he said, deliberately leaving off his last name. Mention of “Delacourt” in this part of Texas tended to stir up all sorts of reactions that had more to do with his father or the family wealth than him. He’d learned to hedge his bets when he first met a woman, see if her reactions were genuine before he laid his full identity on her.

“Why are you here, Maddie?” he asked. He gestured toward the ginger ale. “It’s obvious you’re not a big drinker.”

“I just got to town a couple of weeks ago and moved into this neighborhood. This seems like a nice place. It’s definitely better than going back to an empty apartment.”

Something about the comment stirred Tyler’s suspicions. If she was here to stave off loneliness, then why not accept the attentions of one of the men who’d approached her? Why come here if she had such a hard-and-fast rule about not talking to strangers? And why zero in on the one man who hadn’t made a pass at her? Just because she liked a challenge? Or because she knew precisely who he was, after all?

“You’ve had quite a few admirers the last couple of days. Why have you rejected all of them?” he asked.

“I told you. I have a rule. Besides, they were looking for more than a little friendly conversation. You can tell, you know, at least if you’re a woman.”

Tyler definitely knew. On any other night of any other week, he might have been one of them, and chitchat would have been the last thing on his mind. He enjoyed flirting, but the prospect of making the occasional conquest made it more interesting. It kept his mind off another woman—one who’d slipped out of his life when he’d least expected it and now was lost to him forever.

“So you came over here because I looked safe enough?” he asked.

“Exactly.”

“Darlin’, I wouldn’t count on it. The only difference between those men and me is that I’ve got a lot more than sex on my mind these days.”

She didn’t bat an eye at that. “Tell me. I’m a good listener. Maybe I can help.”

He studied her eager expression and wondered if an impartial outsider could offer a perspective on his life that he hadn’t yet considered. The trouble was, he’d made it a rule not to share any of his deepest longings and ambitions with anyone—and especially not a woman. Not since Jen.

From the moment they’d met, he’d told Jennifer Grayson everything. She’d led a tough life but had come through it with a surprisingly sweet and gentle nature. He’d given her his heart. Hell, he’d even gotten her pregnant and given her a baby, but she’d steadfastly refused his offer of marriage, wouldn’t take a penny of support money for their daughter, wouldn’t accept the gifts he’d sent. She’d insisted she could make it on her own, without any charity from some rich Texan whose family would only look down on her because she’d come from the wrong side of the tracks.

Talk about reverse snobbery. Jen had had it in spades. Nothing he’d said could persuade her that his offers were motivated by love not pity. He had admired her pride, even as it had exasperated him. He’d accepted her terms, because she’d given him no choice.

Jen and his baby girl, his precious Rachel, had lived in Baton Rouge, conveniently nearby whenever he had time off from his work on the Delacourt rigs in the Gulf of Mexico. Despite her refusal to marry him, Jen had been the best thing in his life.

Even so, he had never shared her existence with his family. She’d accused him of being ashamed of her, but the truth was that at first he’d just wanted something that was his alone, not part of the Delacourt dynasty, not subjected to media scrutiny. Jen had been his secret and his joy.

The time had come, though, after the baby was born, when he’d wanted his family to know everything, wanted them to get to know Jen, even if their relationship was unconventional. Six months ago, after endless arguments, he had finally persuaded her to come to Houston and meet his parents. He had held such high hopes for that trip. He’d been so sure that once she got over that hurdle, Jen would see that she could fit in, that she would be accepted just because he loved her.

In one last surge of stubborn pride, she had insisted on driving, rather than accompanying him in the company jet. He had agreed, to his everlasting regret. En route there had been an accident. The crash had occurred after midnight, and the police suspected Jen had fallen asleep at the wheel, though they would never know for sure. There were no other cars involved, and there had been no witnesses. Jen and Rachel had both died at the scene.

From that moment on Tyler had descended into his own personal hell of guilt and loneliness, made worse because he’d refused to share his torment with anyone. He’d considered the silent suffering to be his penance for pressing her to do something she hadn’t really wanted to do.

That was another reason he didn’t want to leave Louisiana. All of his memories of Jen and the baby were in Baton Rouge. And when they got to be too much for him, he needed the demanding work on the rig to exhaust him. The waking memories were difficult enough, but the nightmares about that crash were a thousand times worse. At home this last week he’d awakened every single night in a cold, drenching sweat, heart pounding, tears running unchecked down his cheeks.

His family knew something was terribly wrong, but he refused to talk about it. Michael had even made the trip to Baton Rouge to see him before his wedding to Grace. His brother had poked and prodded for two straight days, but Tyler hadn’t been ready to reveal a whole part of his life he had kept secret for years. He still wasn’t. Someday he would be able to talk about Jen, but not yet, not even to the brother who knew him better than anyone on earth.

He sighed heavily.

“Hey, where’d you go?” Maddie asked, snapping him back to the present.

“Just thinking about someone I used to know,” he admitted without meaning to.

Her eyes brightened with curiosity. “Were you in love with her?”

“I was.”

“And she loved you?”

“She said she did.”

“What happened?”

“Stuff,” he said, because talking about the tragedy wouldn’t change anything, and he’d already said more than he should have.

“You don’t want to talk about it,” she concluded.

“Brilliant deduction.”

“Then tell me about yourself. What do you do, Tyler with no last name?”

So, he thought, she had caught the deliberate omission. “I work on an oil rig, or at least that’s what I did last week. This week it’s hard to say.”

“Did you lose your job?” she asked, regarding him sympathetically.

“Not the way you mean.” This was not a conversation he intended to have, not with a stranger, not tonight. “Look, Maddie Kent, it’s been nice talking to you, but I’ve got to run.” He tossed some bills on the bar. “That ought to take care of your drink. Welcome to Houston. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.”

“Maybe so,” she said cheerfully, showing neither surprise nor hurt that he was walking out on her.

Only after he was outside, sitting in his car and wondering what the heck he was going to do with himself for the rest of the evening, did he regret his impulsive decision. If nothing else, Maddie with the kissable lips might have provided a much-needed distraction from his dark thoughts. He thought of that blend of innocence and sex appeal and sighed. Then again, she might be nothing but trouble.

Maddie watched Tyler Delacourt walk out of the bar and barely concealed a little smile of satisfaction. She’d made progress tonight. She’d actually held a conversation of sorts with a Delacourt. A civil conversation, at that.

Based on all of her research, she had a feeling that of all of Bryce Delacourt’s sons Tyler might be the one person who could get her into the bosom of the tight-knit family.

Finding him hadn’t been all that difficult. His name and picture had popped up in old society-page items with great regularity. That had stopped a couple of years back, but in the meantime it had given her a starting point. Many of those items mentioned O’Reilly’s as his favorite watering hole. They also mentioned his reputation as an outrageous flirt. At one point one columnist had kept a running count of the number of women with whom he’d been spotted. Whatever his past habits, Maddie had seen no evidence that he was womanizing these days.

In fact, he’d looked so down, so totally alone, that she’d almost felt sorry for him. If he had been anyone other than a Delacourt, she wouldn’t have let him get away without convincing him to spill his guts. Since he was a Delacourt, she had known she had to proceed with caution, not scare him off with her limitless curiosity.

She flipped open her cell phone and called Griffin Carpenter, as promised.

“I made contact tonight,” she told him.

“With Delacourt?”

“No, with his son, Tyler. There’s something going on with him.”

“We’re looking for something on Bryce, not his son.”

“But if I can get Tyler to open up, to trust me enough to confide in me, I’m in. He’ll pave the way with the rest of the family.”

“That’s your angle?” Griffin asked worriedly. “Maddie, watch yourself. Tyler’s got a reputation with women. At least, he did before he started spending so much time out of town, working on that rig over in Louisiana. Forget about Tyler. Why not get a job at the company, something that’ll give you access to their files?”

She wasn’t about to explain that any, even the most superficial, background check by Delacourt Oil’s personnel office would reveal her link to a man who’d once been fired. They’d never hire her.

“I like my way better. I can handle Tyler,” she assured her boss. “I’ll be in touch.”

She put the cell phone back in her purse and thought about the man who’d just left. Thank heaven he wasn’t her type. With his blond hair, dimpled smile and muscled build, he was too good-looking by far, too used to having women swoon at the sight of him, no doubt.

When she’d first seen him a few nights ago, she had been surprised by his preference for jeans and chambray shirts, rather than fancy suits; for sturdy work boots, rather than expensive cowboy boots. He’d told her he worked on an oil rig, and he certainly looked as if he could handle hard work. In fact, she could imagine him out on a rig in the blazing sun, his chest bare, muscles rippling. The unexpected image left her mouth surprisingly dry.

Where had that come from? she wondered, not one bit pleased by the reaction.

“You need another drink?” the bartender asked.

Maddie nodded. When the ginger ale came, she drank it down in one long gulp, but it didn’t seem to do much for her parched throat. This wasn’t good, not good at all.

Repeat after me, she instructed herself. Tyler Delacourt is the son of the man who destroyed your father. Therefore, Tyler Delacourt is a despicable toad. Tyler Delacourt is pond scum.

Tyler Delacourt is the sexiest man I’ve ever met.

Maddie moaned at the traitorous thought. This assignment had just gotten a whole lot more complicated. Maybe she would be better off trying to slide her credentials past personnel and accepting some bland, innocuous job taking dictation at Delacourt Oil.

With a shudder she dismissed the idea. Tyler Delacourt was vulnerable. She had seen it in his bleak expression. Her hormones had never been a problem before. She could certainly keep them in check now. She was too close to her goal to let anything—least of all a handsome Delacourt—get in her way.

Chapter Two

Tyler avoided O’Reilly’s—and the very disconcerting Maddie—for the next few nights. In fact, he pretty much stayed in his apartment for a solid week, sorting through the options he had for the rest of his life. He ignored the phone, letting his answering machine take messages, most of which were from his increasingly impatient father. There was no getting away from the fact that the time had come to make a decision, and no matter which one he made, there was going to be hell to pay.

When he got a call from Daniel Corrigan, supervisor of operations on the rig and Tyler’s boss, Tyler thought about ignoring it, too, but something in Daniel’s voice as he left a curt message told him that he shouldn’t. He snatched up the phone just as the older man was about to hang up.

“Daniel, what’s up?”

“Good. You’re there. Now the question is, when are you coming back here?”

“Why? Is there a problem?”

“That’s what I want to know. I had a call from your father this morning telling me not to expect you back. I wanted to hear it from you before I filled the position. I told him that, too. I figured if you’d decided to quit, you owed it to me to call yourself.” He hesitated then added wryly, “It also occurred to me that you might not know about it.”

It looked as if the matter was about to be snatched out of Tyler’s hands, unless he took some decisive action. He muttered a harsh expletive under his breath, then assured Daniel, “I’ll take care of it.”

“That’s not really answering my question now, is it, Tyler?”

“Look, I’m sorry you’re caught in the middle on this. I’m trying to work it out. For now, though, don’t fill that job, not until you hear from me.”

“Anything I can do to help, like reminding you that you’re the best man I’ve got on the job over here?”

Tyler couldn’t help being pleased by the compliment. Daniel Corrigan was an incredibly demanding man, one of the best the company had, Tyler’s father conceded, even though there was some bad blood between the two men.

Daniel had been with Delacourt Oil for most of his life. He was loyal to the company, but even more fiercely loyal to the men who risked their lives working the rigs. He’d tried a desk job briefly nearly thirty years earlier, but by grudging mutual agreement with Bryce Delacourt, he’d gone back to working the rigs. Bryce had never entirely forgiven Daniel for abandoning the corporate role he’d been offered. Tyler assumed that was the main source of the friction between them.

In addition, it was evident that his father didn’t much like the bond that had formed years earlier between Daniel and Tyler. The older man had taken Tyler under his wing when he’d first expressed an interest in learning the business literally from the ground up. Even though Bryce was no longer in any position to spend time in the oil fields with a curious young boy, he’d been resentful of turning the task over to another man. Stubborn, even as a kid, and sure of his own interests, Tyler had had to badger him into it.

Now, when Tyler didn’t respond, Daniel sighed heavily. “I suppose this is none of my business, but is this mood you’re obviously in really about work?”

“Of course it is,” Tyler insisted, guessing where his boss might be headed.

“You sure of that? Or is it about Jen? I know that accident tore you up inside. You’ve been brooding about it for months now. Have you even told your family what happened?”

Tyler regretted ever telling his boss about Jen, but at the time he’d felt he had no choice. He’d had to give Daniel a way to reach him if he was unexpectedly needed on the rig. As a result Daniel had been the one who’d come into Baton Rouge personally to deliver the news when Tyler’s father had suffered a heart attack a year ago. He’d also been the one to break the news about the accident. The police had found Daniel’s office number in Jen’s purse as an emergency means to contact Tyler. Despite all that, it didn’t mean the man had a right to go picking at the scabs on Tyler’s emotional wounds.

“Daniel—”

“You listen to me,” his boss said sharply, ignoring the warning note in Tyler’s voice. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“You don’t know—”

“I know all I need to know,” Daniel retorted gruffly. “I saw how much you loved that woman and your daughter. You gave them everything Jen would let you. I’ve watched you suffering ever since they died. Grieving’s normal, but at some point you have to move on.”

Tyler sighed. “Okay, you’re right. It’s just not easy.”

“Of course it’s not. If it were, it wouldn’t say much about the love you two shared, now would it? My best advice? Get your sorry butt over here and get back to work.”

“If it were up to me, that is exactly what I’d do.”

“Who’s it up to, if not you?”

“You know Dad,” Tyler said wryly. “Michael’s away, so he’s staring around the corporate offices looking for a likely substitute. No matter how many times I explain it to him, he just doesn’t get the fact that I hate the whole suit-and-tie routine.”

“Wear blue jeans and an oil-stained T-shirt to the office,” Daniel suggested. “Maybe then he’ll get the picture.”

“Maybe then he’ll have another heart attack,” Tyler countered, not entirely in jest. “You know how he feels about the Delacourt image.”

“You can’t live your life for your father,” Daniel reminded him mildly. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I’m just saying it’s your life, and when it’s over, you’re the one who’ll have to live with any regrets. Personally, I figure the fewer I go out of here with, the better.”

That philosophy held a lot of appeal for Tyler, too. “Don’t fill that job just yet,” he said again. “I promise I’ll get back to you.”

“Don’t take too long. I’m getting too blasted old to be doing all the hard labor in your place.”

Tyler laughed. Daniel Corrigan could outlift and outscramble any man working for him, Tyler included. “Let me know when you’re ready to retire, old man. Maybe I’ll apply for that cushy job of yours.”

“Funny, kid. Very funny. I’ll give you till the end of next week. Then I’m hiring somebody who hasn’t got such a smart mouth.”

“Whatever you say.” His grin faded. “Thanks, Daniel. I owe you.”

“You do indeed, and I intend to keep reminding you of it.”

Tyler slowly replaced the receiver, then switched off the answering machine. Based on Daniel’s news, the clock was definitely ticking. He’d better have a decision before morning, and the strength of will to defend it. He needed total quiet and solitude to think this through. That and a pot of industrial-strength coffee to clear the cobwebs out of his brain.

He was on his third cup of coffee and his twelfth final decision when he was startled by a quiet, but insistent knock on his door. He stared at the closed door, trying to imagine who might be on the other side. Nobody got past the doorman downstairs without Tyler’s okay, not even family. And if his father had somehow managed it, there would have been nothing subtle about the knock. Bryce Delacourt would have been pounding on the wood to announce his displeasure with Tyler’s refusal to take his calls.

Since there had been no call upstairs, whoever it was couldn’t possibly know he was inside. Therefore, if he just ignored that incessant tapping, it would eventually stop. Or so he hoped.

Instead, he heard the scrape of a key in the lock, the murmur of voices, then saw the knob slowly twist. He was on his feet in a heartbeat.

“What the hell?” he demanded, jerking the door the rest of the way open and dragging a very startled Maddie Kent with it. “You!”

He stared from her to the apologetic doorman. “Rodney, what is the meaning of this?”

“She said you hadn’t been answering your phone. She said you’d been very upset and she was concerned about you. Since you hadn’t said anything about leaving town again and I hadn’t seen you for a couple of days myself, I figured it was worth checking out.”

Tyler raked a hand through his hair. How could he blow a gasket over the man’s very real concern? Rodney was a valuable building employee precisely because he cared about the condo owners and paid close attention to their security and well-being. The elderly owners considered him a friend.

Maddie was another story.

Tyler patted the doorman on his back. “It’s okay, Rodney.”

The man regarded him with genuine dismay. “It won’t happen again, sir.” He backed away. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Other than peace and quiet, Tyler couldn’t imagine what that might be. Rodney disappeared on the elevator, leaving Maddie behind.

“Mind telling me what you’re doing here?” he asked.

“Your doorman pretty much summed it up. You haven’t been at O’Reilly’s. No one’s seen you since the other night.”

“So?”

“You weren’t in the best mood,” she said, as if that were somehow significant.

“And that would be your business because…?”

Her gaze clashed with his, not wavering by so much as the flicker of an eyelash. Those amber eyes glowed with warmth and concern. “I was worried, that’s all.”

To his amazement, she sounded as if she actually meant it. What had she thought might happen? “Maddie, I drop out of sight all the time. Usually I’m back out on some rig.”

“But you’re not there now, are you?” she pointed out reasonably.

“No, but…”

“So, something could have been wrong.”

“But it’s not.”

“Thank goodness,” she retorted fervently.

He regarded her with suspicion. “How did you know where to find me? I never even told you my last name.”

“O’Reilly told me. He was worried, too.”

Tyler laughed at that. Kevin O’Reilly rarely worried about his patrons unless their bar tabs weren’t up-to-date. More likely, he’d just fallen for little Ms. Kent’s innocent act of concern.

“He was,” she claimed indignantly. “He told me exactly where to find you. Said you owed him one.” A frown knit her brow. “I’m not sure what he meant by that.”

Tyler knew. O’Reilly obviously thought he’d been doing Tyler a favor by delivering a sexy little package straight to his doorstep. “I’ll have to speak to O’Reilly about minding his own business.”

“He seems like a very nice man, very helpful.”

“Yes, I suppose you would see it that way.” He sighed. “Well, now that you’re here, I suppose you might as well come on in and have something to drink. I’m fresh out of ginger ale, though.”

“Juice, water, whatever you have,” she said agreeably. She was already wandering around the apartment, studying it with undisguised curiosity.

Tyler went into the kitchen, poured her a glass of soda, added ice, then returned to find her holding a family portrait, one taken at Christmas the year before. There was an odd expression on her face, one he couldn’t quite interpret.

“Do you have a big family?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Just two brothers. Both my parents are dead.”

“I’m sorry. Do you spend much time with your brothers?”

“Not really.” She put the picture back very carefully.

There had been a few occasions when Tyler had regretted being part of such a large, tight-knit family, but seeing the sadness in Maddie’s eyes, he realized once again just how lucky he really was. From time to time he and his siblings might aggravate the daylights out of each other, but they would go to the ends of the earth for each other.

And with the rest of them married and starting families of their own, the Delacourts were an impressive bunch when they all got together in one place as they had last year for the holidays. His father’s heart attack had been a reminder to all of them how quickly things could change. They had vowed at the hospital never to let another holiday season pass without some sort of reunion. Last year Trish had managed to lure even their parents to Los Pin˜os for a quiet, old-fashioned family celebration, rather than the Houston social whirl they preferred.

“That’s too bad about you and your brothers,” he told Maddie. “Did you have a falling out?”

“No. We just drifted apart. We don’t have much in common anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, helpless to think of anything more profound to say.

“You’re very close to your family, aren’t you? I can see it in the picture.”

“We get along well enough—most of the time, anyway. Like all families, we have our ups and downs.” After his illness, a mellower Bryce Delacourt had seemed to accept the decisions his children had made for their lives—all except Tyler, apparently.

Maddie curled up in an oversize chair facing him. “Tell me about them—I love hearing about big families. And yours is pretty much legendary here in Texas.”

Since that particular cat was clearly out of the bag and she didn’t seem overly impressed by it, Tyler gave her a brief rundown of the various Delacourts, right down to the most recently adopted grandchildren, Josh and Jamie, two brothers taken in by Grace and Michael, who were currently staying over on Trish’s ranch in Los Pin˜os while the newlyweds traveled on their honeymoon. Maddie listened raptly to every word he said, prodding him with questions every time he thought her curiosity must surely be satisfied.

“You have to be bored hearing all of this,” he said at last. “It’s like watching home movies of people you don’t know or vacations you didn’t share.”

“No, really, I love it. Tell me more about your father. I’ve read about him, of course. What’s he like?”

“He’s stubborn, ambitious, dynamic and generally a pain in the butt,” Tyler said honestly. “But we all love him just the same.”

Suddenly she glanced at and then picked up a tiny framed picture of his daughter, the only one Tyler had. He froze as she studied it. Cursing the fact that he hadn’t put it away as he usually did when company came over, he waited for the questions he sensed were about to come.

“Is this a niece or nephew?” she asked.

“No,” he said tersely, then forced a smile. He restrained himself from snatching the picture out of her hands. Eventually she put it back in place, though her gaze kept straying back to it.

“Enough about my family,” he said, when it seemed she was about to ask more questions. “Tell me more about yours. Were you very young when you lost your parents?”

“I was fifteen when my dad died,” she said.

Tyler saw the pain behind her stoic expression, heard the sorrow in her voice. As irritating as he often found his father, he couldn’t imagine losing him. Last year’s heart attack, though mild, had scared all of them, reminding them that even the larger-than-life Bryce Delacourt was merely mortal.

“That must have been hard,” he said sympathetically.

“It was.”

Since she didn’t seem inclined to say more, he asked, “And your mom?”

“My mother died just last year, but she was never really the same after my dad died.”

Since both of them seemed to have valid reasons for not wanting to delve any more deeply into family history, Tyler changed the subject. “What do you do for a living, Maddie Kent?”

“I’m…” She turned away, then finally met his gaze. “I’m between jobs right now.”

Tyler couldn’t tell whether pride had put that embarrassed flush in her cheeks or whether it was because she was lying. He had spent enough time around women to sense when one wasn’t being completely honest with him. And something was telling him now that Maddie Kent had been skirting the truth from the moment he’d met her.

“Is that why you came to Houston, to find work?”

She nodded. “I thought it might be easier in a big city, that there would be a lot of opportunities.”

“The classifieds are definitely full of jobs. No nibbles yet?”

“Not yet, but I’m still hopeful,” she said cheerfully.

“What kind of work are you looking for? I could check at Delacourt Oil. Maybe there’s an opening there that would suit you.”

An odd expression crossed her face, but Tyler couldn’t quite interpret it.

“I’m pretty flexible, actually, but I don’t want you to go to any trouble. I’m sure I’ll find something anyday now.” There was a touch of stubborn, if admirable, pride in the lift of her chin.

“There’s nothing wrong with getting a little help, Maddie. A lot of people find their jobs through networking. It’s the way the corporate world works. Why do you think so many women fought to get into clubs that were open only to men? They knew that’s where the men were finding out about job openings.”

“Is that how you found your job?”

Tyler laughed for the first time in days. “No, I’m afraid I got mine through nepotism, pure and simple. The truth is I’d have a hard time not working at Delacourt Oil.”

“Then you work for your father?”

He met her bright gaze, tried to discern if there was something more than curiosity behind her questions. “Yes, unfortunately.”

“On one of the company’s rigs?”

“For the moment,” he said tersely. “Could we talk about something else? The weather, maybe?”

“Your job’s a sore point?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said fervently.

“How come?”

“If you knew my father, you’d understand.”

“Since I don’t, why don’t you explain it to me? I’m a good listener.”

He was surprisingly tempted to do just that, to share all of the hopes and frustrations he’d been keeping bottled up inside since Jen’s death. The mental comparison with Jen was enough to bring him up short.

“So you’ve said, but I’ve taken up enough of your time, Maddie.” He stood up abruptly and looked pointedly toward the door.

Maddie didn’t budge at first, but then her eyes widened. “Oh,” she said softly. “You want me to go. I suppose I did burst in uninvited and disrupt your plans for the evening. I’m sorry.”

Oddly enough, he realized that he didn’t want her to leave, not really. And that made him more determined than ever to get her out the door. She asked too many questions. Sooner or later she would work the conversation back to that baby picture. Or to his father. Or to his job. None were topics he cared to explore just now.

Sooner or later he would have to kiss her just to shut her up. Just thinking about it made him feel disloyal to Jen’s memory.

That was another thing that was worrisome about Ms. Maddie Kent. No other woman had been able to make him forget about Jen, not even for a second, but for a little while tonight he’d been aware only of the woman who’d bullied her way into his apartment simply because she was concerned about him. Somehow she had managed to banish some of his suspicions about her in the process. He’d been counting on that wariness to keep him from getting in too deep.

“Yeah,” he said gruffly. “No offense, but I want you to go. It’s getting late. Do you need a ride home? I can call a cab for you.”

She shook her head. “My car’s over by O’Reilly’s. I can walk.”

Tyler bit back an oath of pure frustration. “Not alone, not at this hour,” he said. “I’ll walk with you.”

Her chin rose stubbornly. “It’s a few blocks. I’ll be perfectly safe.”

“With me along, you will be,” he agreed. “Got everything?”

She patted her purse. “Right here.”

“Then let’s go.”

Outside, there was something about the heavy night air closing in around them that made Tyler feel as if they were still all alone. It was the kind of atmosphere that invited confidences. But instead, they walked in surprisingly companionable silence for a bit. Tyler hadn’t realized Maddie could be so quiet for so long. Thrown off guard by it, he felt a sudden need to figure out what made this woman tick, to unravel the contradictions he’d sensed in her.

“Maddie, what really brought you to my place tonight?”

She regarded him with surprise. “I told you, I was concerned when you didn’t show up at O’Reilly’s.”

“You have to admit it’s unusual to take such an interest in a virtual stranger.”

Her gaze met his. “Not for me.”

“Then you make a habit of riding to the rescue of people you barely know?” The thought bothered him for some reason he couldn’t quite explain. On some purely masculine level, he wanted to be different, which was absurd when not five minutes ago he’d feared getting any more deeply involved with her.

“Only the ones with potential,” she teased lightly.

“Potential?”

“Of becoming friends.”

Friends. The word echoed in his head, annoying him irrationally. Had he been misreading the signals that badly?

“Can you believe how hot and muggy it is?” she said, stealing the chance for him to question the limitation she seemed to be placing on their relationship. “It feels like rain. Maybe that will cool things off.”

Because she seemed so determined to move to an impersonal, innocuous topic, Tyler deliberately gave the conversation a provocative turn.

“Some people think there’s something sexy about a sultry night like this.” His gaze locked with hers. “The weather gets you all hot and bothered. You start stripping off clothes till you’re down to almost nothing.”

Maddie swallowed hard, but she didn’t look away. “Sounds…” Her voice trailed off.

“Tempting?” he inquired, amused by her sudden breathlessness, relieved that he hadn’t lost his touch, after all.

She blinked away the hint of yearning in her eyes, seemed to struggle to regain her composure. “Disgustingly sweaty,” she said tartly. She turned away, then stopped, looking relieved. “Here’s my car.”

“Well, good night, then. Drive carefully.”

“I always do.”

For some reason he didn’t entirely understand, he impulsively captured her chin in his hand and brushed a light kiss across her lush mouth. Maybe it was just so he could catch one more glimpse of that startled flaring of heat in her eyes. He was amply rewarded for his efforts. She stared at him in openmouthed astonishment, but unfortunately that quick taste and her surprise didn’t seem to be quite enough to satisfy him. Besides, her lips were soft as silk and sweet as sugar. What man could resist?

But even as he lowered his head to claim another kiss, she ducked away and slid into her car. The rejection might have stung if he hadn’t noted the way her hands trembled ever so slightly before she clutched the steering wheel tightly.

“Good night,” he said again, but the words were lost as she started the engine.

He watched her drive away. Then, instead of turning toward home, he headed for O’Reilly’s, his throat suddenly parched. Rather than simplifying his life as he’d planned to tonight, he had a feeling he’d just made it a whole lot more complicated.

Chapter Three

This was going to be much more difficult than she’d anticipated, Maddie concluded as she drove slowly away, trying to calm her jittery nerves after that unexpected kiss. She should have seen it coming, should have steeled herself against it. After all, wasn’t Tyler’s easygoing flirtatiousness one of the very reasons she’d chosen him as the best Delacourt to approach?

However, her instantaneous reaction was a warning. She had to get a grip, find some way to avoid being alone with him on hot, sultry nights that held the promise of romance in the air. Otherwise this investigation of hers was going to get very dicey.

And, unfortunately, that wasn’t the only potential problem she’d discovered tonight. She’d also realized that the man didn’t trust her. Apparently she wasn’t nearly as good at deception as she’d hoped to be. He’d watched her suspiciously from the instant she’d arrived on his doorstep, then deftly skirted many of her questions. Obviously, she was going to have to work harder to gain his trust.

Of course, the worst glitch of all, the most unexpected was the fact that she instinctively liked him. Hormones were one thing, but actually relating to the man was something else entirely—and in some ways even more seductive and dangerous. Tyler was a funny, low-key kind of guy, surprisingly unpretentious for a man with the Delacourt wealth and standing in the community. Under other circumstances…

She caught herself before that particular thought could take shape. The circumstances were what they were. She couldn’t let herself like Tyler, or any other Delacourt. If that meant reminding herself that they were the enemy a hundred times a day, then that was exactly what she had to do. She was up to her fiftieth reminder so far tonight, and the message apparently wasn’t getting through.

Unfortunately, she was as certain as ever that Tyler was the key to getting what she needed. All of her preliminary research indicated that his brothers and his sister were leading exemplary lives. And since Tyler was the only remaining bachelor, he was the only one who was readily accessible to her. It had been easy enough to discover his usual routine, the places he tended to haunt. O’Reilly’s was one, but there were more locations where she was certain she could bump into him “accidentally” to keep the contact alive.

After all, if there were skeletons in anyone’s closet, Tyler would know. Whether she could get him to reveal the information was something else entirely. Although he’d given a cursory sketch of the various family members willingly enough, he had definitely balked whenever she’d pressed for details. Was that natural reticence, protectiveness of their privacy…or something more? Were there secrets he was trying to guard?

During her first couple of years in journalism, Maddie had gotten used to being in an adversarial position with some of the people she interviewed. She was putting them on the spot, asking them about things they might not want their neighbors to read about over their morning coffee. She’d developed a technique for disarming them, straightforward honesty tinged with sympathy. She told them up-front that, like it or not, the story was going to appear in the paper, but she was giving them a chance to shape it in their favor by telling their side. It almost always worked.

She could hardly do that with Tyler. Unlike the everyday assignments she’d had for her first small daily newspaper, she had to work undercover on this one, get as much information as she could before approaching Bryce Delacourt armed with the facts that would bring him down or, at the very least, publicly humiliate him.

But as she’d learned tonight, the deception was definitely going to be trickier than she’d anticipated. It went against her natural penchant for the truth, which was what had brought her into journalism in the first place. But in this case she was convinced that the end justified the means. She tried not to dwell on the fact that the saying originated with Machiavelli, the princely advisor renowned for his duplicity.

Remember the goal, she reminded herself sternly. Retribution, revenge…whatever it was called, it was going to make a few uncomfortable weeks of staying in Tyler Delacourt’s face—a few weeks of lying to him—worthwhile.

When she reached the small but well-furnished apartment that Griffin Carpenter had arranged for her, she opened her purse and took out the tiny, voice-activated recorder. Flipping on the tape, she listened again to Tyler’s description of his family. Despite herself, she was filled with an inexplicable envy. He had grown up surrounded by the kind of love, the kind of security, she and her brothers should have had, the kind Bryce Delacourt’s arrogant, hard-hearted actions had cost them.

An image of the Delacourt family portrait, taken last Christmas, flashed in her head. She had been struck by how happy they’d looked. She’d almost been able to hear the sounds of teasing and laughter as the camera recorded the moment. And in the center of the group sat Bryce Delacourt, the subject of their devotion, the man they all looked up to.

What a contrast to her own holiday season last year. Her mother’s funeral had been held the day after Thanksgiving. Maddie hadn’t even been able to locate her brothers to notify them. She had stood all alone beside the grave, mourning the woman she had really lost years before.

That was the moment she had formulated her precise plans for bringing down the Delacourts. The rest of the holidays had passed in a blur. She had spent the intervening months looking at back issues of newspapers around the state trying to determine which one might be open to such an exposé. Hard Truths, as distasteful as she found its tactics and reporting to be, had clearly been her best shot.

Remember the goal, she had reminded herself a dozen times as she had placed that first, fateful call to Griffin Carpenter to arrange an interview. It appeared she was going to have to repeat that refrain a lot before all was said and done.

When her tape of the conversation with Tyler ended, she began making notes of everything else she could recall about the evening, from the decor of his apartment to his sexily rumpled appearance. She tried not to linger too much over the latter because it kept bringing her back to the kiss, and that was definitely not a memory she wanted to encourage.

“Think, Maddie,” she ordered herself sternly. “Did he say anything, anything at all that could be a lead?”

It was less what he’d said than what he hadn’t said, she finally concluded, thinking of his curt responses to many of her questions. Then there was the fact that he’d clammed up about that baby picture. That was promising.

Who was it? she wondered. Not a niece or nephew. He’d said that much. Then why not just say it was a cousin or a friend’s child or any of the other myriad innocent explanations he could have given? Why had he looked as if he’d wanted to snatch it out of her hands?

Could the child be his? He’d never been married, according to her research, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t fathered a child. An illegitimate Delacourt baby wasn’t the scandal she’d been hoping for, but it would make for some great headlines just the same.

Even as the thought occurred to her, she winced. It wasn’t Tyler Delacourt she wanted to bring down or embarrass. It was his father. The baby picture might be a lead, but if it turned out to be linked to Tyler, would she use it just because he and Bryce shared the same last name? She honestly didn’t know.

And for one tiny moment she wasn’t sure she liked what that said about her or this path she was heading down.

After nursing a single beer for an hour at O’Reilly’s and giving the bar owner a good deal of grief about sending Maddie on her supposed mission of mercy, Tyler eventually went home. To his surprise, the apartment felt a whole lot emptier. Had that brief visit by Maddie counteracted years of solitude here, made him yearn for the female companionship he’d lost after Jen’s death? This apartment had always been a bachelor pad, a retreat. Even before he’d met Jen, he’d rarely brought a woman here, preferring to visit his dates at their homes. This place had been his sanctuary.

So why, suddenly, was he so restless in his own world? Was it because of the woman whose lips had been warm and yielding under his? Or was it simply because of the decision he’d been alternately wrestling with and avoiding for the past few days?

He was still holding the same internal debate in the morning. Because he’d tired of it, he grabbed up the newspaper and headed down the block to a restaurant that specialized in strong coffee and greasy food. Today he needed eggs, bacon and hash browns, not gourmet bran muffins or whole-wheat pancakes. Maybe once he was fortified with a hearty breakfast, he’d be able to handle a meeting with his father. Maybe he’d even produce a compromise they could both live with.

At nine o’clock the place was still bustling with its own form of blue-collar power breakfast. The waitresses were sassy, the service quick. Tyler had a steaming plate of food in front of him before he could scan the front-page headlines. He had company before he could taste the first forkful.

“Looks dangerous,” Maddie observed, staring at the eggs swimming in butter and the strips of crisp bacon.

Tyler thought she looked a whole lot more dangerous in her snug-fitting tank top and thigh-skimming skirt. Her hair looked as if she’d done little more than run her fingers through it. The effect was rumpled and sexy and had an effect on his pulse he didn’t like one bit.

“What brings you to a place like this if you don’t like the menu?” he asked.

“The coffee,” she said at once. “It’s lethal.”

He grinned at that. “It is indeed.” His gaze strayed over her formfitting outfit. “Going job hunting?”

She returned his gaze with an innocent expression. “You disapprove?”

“Darlin’, I could never disapprove of anything that shows your assets to such advantage, but it might just be a tad underdressed for the average office.”

“Maybe I’m not looking for an office job.”

“What, then? Or should I ask? Vice squad maybe?”

She frowned at him. “You do disapprove.”

Tyler wasn’t sure why he was making such an issue of it. What Maddie wore was none of his business. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that every man’s mouth had dropped open when she’d walked in. He’d instinctively wanted to wrap her in a blanket and bundle her off to some place out of view.

No, he corrected, what he’d really wanted to do was pummel those men until they thought twice about staring, then take her somewhere private and strip away the scanty attire she was wearing. Bad ideas, both of them.

“Just a little friendly job-hunting advice,” he said mildly. “First impressions count, and this isn’t freewheeling California or trendy New York. We’re in Texas, darlin’.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

To his surprise her eyes were bright with amusement as she sipped her coffee and watched him over the rim of the cup. He deliberately turned his attention to his food.

“So, what are your plans for the day?” she asked.

“As soon as I’ve eaten, I’m going to drop by the office.”

“Really?” She did her own slow survey of his jeans and dark-blue T-shirt. “A little underdressed for the executive suite, aren’t you?”

Tyler scowled. “Okay, touché. But unlike you, I already have a job, and I’m definitely well acquainted with the boss. I doubt he’ll fire me.”

Of course, as he’d told Daniel the day before, his father might very well grumble about his lack of attention to corporate image. Maybe that was why he’d deliberately chosen these particular clothes this morning, just to goad his father into remembering who he was: Tyler, not his clotheshorse brother Michael, who had standing appointments to have his suits custom tailored.

Maddie studied him, her expression thoughtful. “But you’d like him to, wouldn’t you?”

Tyler was startled by the observation. “Like him to do what? Fire me?”

“Yes.”

“Of course not.”

“Are you sure about that?” she probed. “You never really got into what it was that had you so down, but I’m guessing from a couple of offhand remarks you made that it has something to do with work. You apparently love working on the rig, yet you’re here. What’s that all about?”

“Command performance,” he said succinctly. “I’ll be back in the Gulf of Mexico in no time.”

“Really?”

One way or another, he would be, he decided right then. This constant push-pull for power between him and his father had to stop. Now was as good a time as any to make it happen.

“Really,” he said very firmly.

“Why do I have the feeling that you just came to a decision about something?” she asked.

“Because I did,” Tyler said, shoving his plate away and tossing down his napkin. He took one last swallow of coffee, then stood. “Thanks, Maddie Kent. Order something. Breakfast’s on me.”

“Why?”

He grinned. “Just because.”

“You’re a very enigmatic man, Tyler Delacourt.”

“I certainly hope so.” In fact, he’d always been the most tight-lipped of the Delacourts, the one who displayed a lot of flash and dazzle for the world but kept his innermost thoughts to himself.

Why, then, had Maddie Kent—a woman who’d known him for only a few days—been able to read him like a book? He had a feeling he’d better figure that out soon, before she zeroed in on things he’d never shared with anyone.

In the meantime he had his father to deal with. He arrived at Delacourt Oil twenty minutes later and went straight to his father’s office.

“You sure you want to go in there?” his father’s secretary asked. “You’ve been avoiding his calls. He is not amused.”

“All the more reason to get this over with,” Tyler said. “You might want to go to the coffee shop in case there’s fallout from the explosion.”

She winked at him. “I can take it. I’ve known the man since before you were born. He doesn’t scare me.”

“Then you’re the only one.”

Tyler drew in a deep breath and opened the door. His father was on the phone. He scowled at the interruption, but when he spotted Tyler, he muttered a curt goodbye to whoever was on the other end of the line.

“Where the devil have you been?” Bryce demanded.

“Home.”

“Then why haven’t you been answering your phone or returning my calls?”

“I think that should be obvious.”

“Not to me. Explain it.”

“I didn’t want to have this conversation,” Tyler said honestly. “I didn’t want you to bulldoze right over me, the way you usually do.”

“Since when have I ever been able to get you to do a blasted thing you didn’t want to do?” his father said with a hint of exasperation. “There’s not a one of my kids who pays a bit of attention to what I want. And you’re the worst of all.”

“Aren’t you forgetting about Michael? He would walk through fire for you. He loves this company every bit as much as you do.”

His father waved off the reminder. “Where is he now? We’re in the middle of a critical negotiation.”

“He’s on his honeymoon. For once in his life, he put himself first. Surely you’re not going to fault him for that?”

His father flushed guiltily. “No, of course not. He married a fine woman.” His expression brightened ever so slightly. “And those two boys they’ve adopted, they’re something. Could have been born Delacourts. They’ll be a part of this company someday. Michael will see to that.”

“He probably will,” Tyler agreed.

“A man works his whole life to create something to leave to his children and what happens? Mine turn right around and throw the opportunity out the door.”

Tyler bit back a sigh. How many times had he heard this? A hundred? More? “That’s not how it is,” he said mildly.

“You see Dylan anywhere around here? Or Trish?”

“No, but—”

“Jeb might as well not be here,” his father complained. “He’s taking on more and more private cases, instead of learning the ropes here at Delacourt. And that corporate spy case he pursued for us turned into a fiasco.”

Tyler chuckled at his father’s interpretation of that particular event. “Whose fault was that, Dad? There was no selling of Delacourt secrets. You set Jeb up because you wanted him to fall for Brianna.”

“That’s not the point.”

“What is, then?”

“That not a one of you show any gratitude at all for what I’ve built for you.”

“I repeat, Michael is here a thousand percent. Can’t you be satisfied with that? It’s no wonder he works himself to death. You take what he does for granted, and it’s never enough.”

“That’s absurd.”

Tyler leveled a look straight at his father. “Is it?”

“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point. You sound like your mother. She’s always on my case about showing more appreciation for the job he does.”

“It couldn’t hurt.”

“Well, once you’re back here full-time, you’ll pick up some of the slack, take a little of the pressure off Michael.”

“I’m not coming back,” Tyler responded, quietly but emphatically.

His father reacted as if he’d uttered blasphemy. “Why the hell not?”

Tyler gave a resigned sigh. “You know why not, Dad. How many times do we have to have this conversation? I tried to do it your way. I’ve worked in every department in this place. The job I love, the one I’m suited for, is on the rigs.”

“That’s Corrigan’s influence talking,” his father said impatiently. “I knew it was a mistake letting you go over there and work for him.”

“This has nothing to do with Daniel.”

“It has everything to do with him. If the man had an ounce of gratitude in him, he’d follow my wishes and send my son packing.”

Tyler grinned ruefully. “Yeah, I heard you’d told him I wasn’t coming back.”

“And he couldn’t wait to run to you, could he?”

“Gee, he seemed to think it might be my decision to make. Now there’s a crazy notion, isn’t it?”

“Don’t get sarcastic with me, boy. I’m still your father.”

“I know that.”

“Then give me a little credit. I know what’s best for you.”

“No, Dad, you don’t. You know what you want for me, not what I want.”

“If it’s money you’re after…”

“Don’t be absurd, Dad. This isn’t about money. I know what you pay your top executives. It’s more than I could make working eighty hours a week for Daniel, and that’s saying something.”

“Then I just don’t get it.”

“I like the physical work, the challenge, being outdoors. I’d suffocate being cooped up in here all day.”

“Dammit, Tyler, working those rigs is dangerous. There was a time when I was learning the ropes that I did it, too. Came damned near to getting killed in a fire on one of them. Your mother would never forgive me if anything happened to you.”

Tyler saw the ploy for exactly what it was, a pitiful attempt by his father to shift the blame for his own hardheadedness onto his wife by suggesting that she was the one who feared for Tyler’s safety.

“Then I’ll just have to see that nothing happens.” He met his father’s gaze evenly. “And if you want me to, I’ll explain my decision to Mother. I’ll assure her you did your absolute best to keep me right here in Houston.”

For just an instant his father looked so thoroughly bewildered and defeated that Tyler almost relented. Then he stiffened his spine and his resolve. This was the way it had to be.

“Dad, this is for the best. Someday I’ll be too old to work the rigs. If I’m lucky, there will be a nice desk job waiting for me then.”

“Don’t count on it.”

Tyler matched his father’s scowl. “Would you rather I went to another company?”

Red patches darkened his father’s cheeks at the suggestion. “Maybe that would be for the best. It would get you away from the influence of that hooligan.”

Tyler wasn’t sure which of them was the most shocked by the response. “If that’s the way you really feel—”

His father’s anger dissolved. “Blast it all, Tyler, that’s not what I want! You’re a Delacourt. What would people think if you turned up working for one of our competitors?”

“That you and I had a falling out,” Tyler said readily. “They wouldn’t be off the mark, either.”

“Well, I’m not going to be fodder for anyone’s gossip. If you insist on risking your life, then you’ll do it on one of my rigs. They’ve got the best safety record in the business—Corrigan’s seen to that. The man costs me an arm and a leg with all his precautions.”

“Do you begrudge him the money he spends so that you can boast about your safety record?”

“Of course not,” his father retorted impatiently. “Do you have to twist everything I say?”

Tyler laughed. “Just imagine what I’d do if you had me underfoot every day.”

Slowly a reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his father’s mouth. “I suppose there is a positive side to this ridiculous decision of yours. At least we won’t be butting heads on a regular basis.”

“Just holidays and special occasions,” Tyler suggested wryly.

“Better make it more often than that, or your mother will have my hide,” his father countered.

It was as near as Bryce Delacourt was likely to come to an admission of affection, and Tyler found it oddly moving. “We definitely can’t have that, can we?” he replied lightly. “Thanks for seeing it my way, Dad.”

“You didn’t give me much of a choice, did you? Go on, now, before Corrigan calls up and accuses me of stealing his best worker.”

“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll stick around till the weekend, let Mother fuss over me a little. Daniel can manage without me a few more days.”

“That’ll make your mother happy,” his father agreed. “To tell you the truth, I won’t mind seeing you around the house a little more myself.”

His words surprised Tyler. It was the closest he’d ever come to admitting that he missed one of his children. Instead he chose to grumble about their desertion of the family business. For the first time Tyler realized that what his father might mean but couldn’t say, was that he hated the fact they’d drifted out of his life. Nor was he ever likely to admit that he might be the one who’d driven them away through his attempts to control them.

“Dad, you do know that we all love you, don’t you?” Tyler said. “That hasn’t changed just because we’ve chosen to go our own ways.”

For a fleeting instant he thought he detected the sheen of unshed tears in his father’s eyes, but before he could tell for sure, his father bent over the stack of paperwork on his desk.

“You be sure to stop by and see your mother,” he said. “I’ve got work to do.”

Tyler hesitated, wanting to say more but not knowing exactly how. He settled for pausing beside his father’s desk long enough to give his shoulder a squeeze before leaving the office. As he closed the door behind him, he thought he heard Bryce sigh.

“You’re still in one piece. Everything must have gone okay,” his father’s secretary said, surveying him intently.

Tyler nodded. “Surprisingly well,” he told her.

So why was he leaving with the terrible sense that he had let his father down in some way he might never fully understand?

Chapter Four

A few hours after her morning encounter with Tyler, Maddie picked a sidewalk café in the same block as Delacourt Oil to have lunch. With any luck at all, perhaps Tyler would pass by and she could snag his attention. If not, maybe some Delacourt employees would sit at a nearby table and she would be able to overhear some juicy bit of corporate gossip. It was a long shot, but she had to admit she was losing patience with the snail’s pace of her investigation. She’d been at it for two weeks, and had little to show for her efforts other than a vague feeling that Tyler had fathered an illegitimate child, something she would likely never use.

Used to the immediacy of daily reporting, Maddie concluded she was not cut out for the slow, tedious work of gathering material for an exposé. Nor was she certain just how long Griffin Carpenter would be willing to fund her fishing expedition. He hadn’t said, and she didn’t want to test him.

Hoping to come up with something—anything—she had spent most of the morning making calls to Baton Rouge trying to pick up any sort of lead on how Tyler spent his time there. She’d come up empty. The man didn’t even have a listed phone number, and the Delacourt Oil offices had firmly declined even to confirm that he worked there. It looked as if she was going to have to go to Louisiana herself if she wanted to pursue that angle of the story. Maybe her time would have been better spent at the library going through old articles on Delacourt Oil in the Houston papers. She vowed to get busy at that first thing tomorrow—maybe even after lunch today if her plan to hook up with Tyler failed.

“Okay, who’s responsible for that look on your face? Tell me and I’ll beat them up for you.”

Just the sound of that deep, slow-talking voice was enough to send goose bumps dancing down her spine. She glanced up into Tyler’s twinkling blue eyes and felt another jolt of electricity. Even though his arrival was exactly what she’d hoped for, she obviously hadn’t steeled herself against his thoroughly masculine effect on her.

“Thanks all the same, but I can fight my own battles,” she retorted lightly, pleased that her voice was steady.

“Mind if I join you? Or would I be taking my life in my hands?”

She conducted a blatant survey of him from head to toe. “Oh, you look tough enough. I think you can probably take care of yourself. Have a seat and tell me what’s put you in such a good mood. A couple of hours ago you looked as if you were heading off to war.”

“In a manner of speaking I was. Battle’s over. I won.”

“Was there ever any doubt?”

“For a few minutes, there, it could have gone either way. Now let’s get back to you. Any luck with the job hunt?”

“I spent the morning making calls,” she said honestly. “No leads.”

“Why don’t you let me help you out? If you don’t want to work for Delacourt, I know a lot of other people in this town.”

“I’m sure you do, but I need to do this myself.”

He nodded, his expression oddly irritated. “Pride’s a funny thing, especially if you let your desire for independence overshadow common sense. It can cost you in unexpected ways.”

She regarded him curiously. Had pride been an issue with him before? “Such as?” she prodded.

“Sometimes it keeps the people who care about you at arm’s length at the very time when you need them the most.”

“Has that happened to you?”

His expression clouded over. “In a way. Enough about pride, though. What’s your game plan?”

Since her game plan was in a state of flux and had nothing to do with job hunting, she forced a brilliant smile. “I’m taking the afternoon off. How about you?”

“As it happens that’s exactly my intention, as well.” His gaze locked on hers. “So, Maddie Kent, want to do something impulsive?”

“Such as?”

“It’s not impulsive if you have to know all the details ahead of time,” he teased.

Her pulse promptly kicked into overdrive. It appeared that this lighthearted, victorious Tyler was even more dangerous than the brooding, vulnerable man she’d first met. No wonder he had a reputation. That smile of his could lure a woman into going against every sane, rational bit of advice she’d ever been given—to say nothing of severing the last fragile thread by which she was clinging to her ethics.

However, his mood played straight into her own agenda to worm her way into the heart of the Delacourt clan. “Name it. I’ll go along.”

“Come with me, then.”

“I haven’t even eaten.”

“Don’t worry, short stuff, you’ll get to eat. In fact, I’ll promise you the best seafood you’ve ever eaten, along with buttered corn on the cob and the perfect dessert for a steamy day like this.”

“Lead me to it,” she said.

He held out his hand, and after a second’s hesitation she placed hers in it. The instant she did, she knew it was a mistake. His touch sent heat sizzling through her veins and set her every nerve to tingling.

Slow down, she warned herself. This was very thin ice, and given the temperature of her thoughts at the moment, it wouldn’t take long to melt right through it.

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