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Praise for New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Susan Mallery

“Susan Mallery is one of my favorites.”

—#1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber

“Mallery has once again proven to be a superb writer; romance novels just don’t get much better than this.”

—Booklist

“If you’re looking for heart-tugging emotions elaborately laced with humor, then Mallery is the author for you.”

—RT Book Reviews

Lone Star Millionaire
Susan Mallery

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

SUSAN MALLERY

is a New York Times bestselling author of more than ninety romances. Her combination of humor, emotion and just-plain-sexy has made her a reader favorite. Susan makes her home in the Pacific Northwest with her handsome husband and possibly the world’s cutest dog. Visit her Web site at www.SusanMallery.com.

Chapter 1

“Madam must agree that it’s very beautiful,” the store clerk said.

Sabrina Innis stared down at the diamond tennis bracelet glinting on her wrist. “Madam agrees,” she told the well-dressed young man, then glanced at her boss. “Stunning. And ten carats, too. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather buy her a little car? It would be cheaper.”

Calhoun Jefferson Langtry, all six feet three inches of him, raised his eyebrows. “I’m not interested in cheap. You should know that by now. I want to send something meaningful, but elegant.” He motioned to the diamond pin the clerk had first shown them. “Nothing froufrou, though. I hate froufrou.”

The “froufrou” in question was an amazing diamond-and-gold pin that cost what the average family of four earned in three or four months. It had clean lines, a zigzag ribbon of gold dividing a stylized circle, with a large four-carat diamond slightly off center. Sabrina loved it and would have chosen it in a hot minute. But the gift wasn’t for her.

She unclasped the tennis bracelet and placed it next to the other finalists—a gold bangle inlaid with diamonds and emeralds, and a Rolex watch. “I sense a theme here,” she said. “Things that go around the wrist. Shackles, in a manner of speaking. Is this your way of telling Tiffany that she shouldn’t have tried to tie you down?”

Her impertinence earned her a scowl. She smiled back. Cal’s temper existed mostly in his mind. Compared to the screaming in her house when she was growing up—four siblings all with extreme opinions on everything—his mild bouts of ill humor were easy to tolerate. Not that the man couldn’t be stone cold when it suited him. She made sure never to cross him in important issues and counted these tiny victories as perks of the job. If nothing else, they kept her wit sharp—a definite advantage when dealing with the wealthy and privileged.

“This one,” she said, pointing to the emerald-and-diamond bracelet.

The clerk paused, waiting for Cal’s approval.

“You heard the little lady. Wrap it up.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sabrina rose to her feet. After six years of being in Texas, she’d grown used to being called “little lady.” She often accused Cal of being trapped in a John Wayne western. Not that he couldn’t be urbane when he chose. When it suited his purposes, he could talk about world events, pick out the perfect wine and discuss the changing financial market with the best of them. But with her, he was himself—Cal Langtry, rich, Texas oil tycoon and playboy. She looked at the piece of jewelry the clerk tucked into a velvet box. A soon-to-be unattached playboy.

“Does Tiffany know?” Sabrina asked as Cal signed the credit card receipt. The clerk held out the bag, not sure to whom to hand it. Sabrina took it. Even though the gift wasn’t for her, she was responsible for mailing it to the recipient, after she’d composed a suitable note.

Cal led the way to the front of the store, then held open the door for her. “Not exactly.”

Sunlight and the spring heat hit her full in the face. Despite having lived here six years, she still wasn’t used to the humidity. She felt her hair start to crinkle. So much for the smooth, sophisticated style she’d tamed it into that morning. The hair-care industry had yet to invent a hair spray that could outlast the Houston weather.

They crossed the sidewalk to the waiting limo. As always, Cal politely waited until Sabrina had settled into the seat. She liked to think it was because he enjoyed watching her skirt climb up her thighs. The truth was, he never bothered to look.

It was better that way, she told herself, wondering when she was going to start believing it. After all, if she was as good-looking as her boss, they would cause a stir wherever they went and all the attention would grow annoying. As it was, she was able to slip into the background and live her life in peace and quiet.

She chuckled softly and glanced out the window.

“What’s so funny?” Cal asked.

“I was wondering if we were going to have a storm this afternoon,” she said. It was almost the truth. She’d really been wondering if her outrageous lies, told only to herself, would cause her to be struck by lightning.

She set the carefully wrapped gift between them. “Tiffany’s for Tiffany,” she said, pointing to the name on the bag. “I wonder if your soon-to-be ex-girlfriend will appreciate the irony.”

“Don’t start with that, Sabrina,” Cal warned. “Tiffany was a splendid girl.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

He eyed her, as if he didn’t believe what she was saying. “Okay, so she wasn’t the brightest person on the planet,” he admitted.

“Now, there’s an understatement.”

He narrowed his gaze.

Sabrina feigned fear by sinking back into the corner of the limo. “Oh, Mr. Langtry, please don’t punish me for my impertinence. I’m just the hired help. I desperately need this job to support my orphaned brothers and sisters. I’ll do anything to get into your good graces.”

She fluttered her eyelashes for effect.

Cal faced front. “Dammit, Sabrina, I hate that I can’t stay angry with you. Why is that?”

“Why do you hate it or why can’t you stay angry?”

“Both.”

“You can’t stay angry because I’m nearly always right, and you can’t hate it because deep in your heart you know I’m incredibly bright. Smarter than you, even. So you spend your days intimidated by me but determined not to let me know.”

“In your dreams.” He pointed at the bag. “Why’d you pick that bracelet over the other one or the watch?”

She stared at him. “Do you want the truth?”

“Oh, so I’m not going to like your reasoning. Sure. Tell me the truth.”

She shrugged. “Tiffany is a sweet girl, but young. Her taste is a little, shall we say, undeveloped. While the diamond bracelet was beautiful, I thought it would be too plain. The emeralds give the bangle flash and she’ll like that.”

“Agreed. Why not the watch?”

“We’re talking about Tiffany here, Cal. The watch wasn’t digital, and I’m not completely convinced she can tell time the old-fashioned way.”

“Remind me to fire you when we get back to the office.”

“You asked me for the truth.”

“So you’re telling me it’s my fault?”

“You’re the one who chose Tiffany, and now you’re the one who doesn’t want to deal with the hassle of ending it. What do you want the card to say?”

He shifted on the seat. “Something nice. That we had a great time together, but we don’t want the same things. You know. The usual. And stop looking at me that way.”

“What way?”

“Like you disapprove. Your face gets all scrunchy. It’s not attractive.”

Sabrina resisted the urge to whip out her compact and peer at herself. She doubted that she was the least bit scrunchy, but she hated not knowing.

“I don’t have an opinion on your personal life.”

“Liar,” he countered. “Why are you always telling me what to do and always disapproving of the women I pick?”

“Tiffany was all of twenty. You’re using the term woman very loosely. I’d be willing to accept mature girl, or even postadolescent. If you actually picked a woman, I might not disapprove.”

“Colette was nearly twenty-eight. That counts.”

He had a point. Before Tiffany had been Shanna, and before her, Colette. “Okay, she counts as a woman.”

“Colette was also bright. She’d been to college and everything.” He sounded smug, as if pleased he was going to win the argument.

Sabrina shifted until she was staring at him. “For all we know, Colette was a rocket scientist, but that’s hardly the point. The woman, and I’ll concede that she was a woman, was French. She barely spoke English, and I know for a fact you weren’t the least bit interested in her brain. She was a lingerie model. Did you actually ever hold a conversation with her?”

“Sure.”

Sabrina raised her eyebrows and waited. Cal had many flaws, but dishonesty wasn’t one of them.

He sighed heavily. “Okay, it was a short conversation. What’s your point?”

“I’m not sure I have one, aside from the usual. You’re reasonably intelligent—”

He glared at her and she ignored him.

“Reasonably attractive—”

The glare became a scowl. She was also lying through her teeth. Calling Cal attractive was in the same league as describing New York City as a “large village.”

“Somewhat articulate, very successful man who in the six years I’ve known you has yet to have anything resembling a normal long-term relationship. You’re thirty-four. When are you going to settle down?”

“I’ve had long-term relationships.”

“Taking your suits to the same dry cleaner for six or seven years doesn’t count. Face it, boss, you’re not actually interested in anything but the chase. You want them until you catch them, then you lose interest. Don’t you ever think about something more than that?”

His brown eyes darkened. “My personal life is none of your business.”

She picked up the bag containing Tiffany’s parting gift. “You make it my business,” she said, no longer teasing.

He grunted. She’d heard enough of the sound to recognize it as a dismissal. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. There were times when she ignored the dismissive grunt, mostly because whatever they were talking about was important, but in this case, she let it go. Except when ending one of his relationships became her duty of the day, she really tried to stay out of his personal life. She admired Cal in many areas, but that wasn’t one of them.

The limo pulled up to the west side high-rise in the Galleria district of Houston. Sabrina braced herself for the heat, slid across the seat and stepped out onto the sidewalk. She smiled at Martin, Cal’s private driver, then followed her boss into the building that housed the corporate offices of Langtry Oil and Gas.

The business occupied the top three floors. While Cal headed directly for his suite in the southwest corner, Sabrina stopped to collect mail and chat with her secretary, Ada.

“What did you pick?” Ada asked, leaning forward and smiling. The older woman had worked for Langtry Oil and Gas for years. When Sabrina had been hired, she’d taken her time choosing an assistant of her own. Ada had a reputation for being a little grumpy and stubborn about doing things her own way, but she knew everyone in the business and had probably heard every whisper uttered in the company since the 1970s.

Sabrina handed her the Tiffany’s bag. Ada raised her eyebrows. “Tiffany’s for Tiffany? You know the subtlety is going to be lost on the girl.”

“My thoughts exactly, but it was still fun.”

As Ada opened the box and gazed at the bangle, Sabrina flipped through the mail. “What’s the word on the street?” Sabrina asked.

“Number ten should be hitting oil tonight, tomorrow at the latest, even though the engineers say another three to four days of drilling. The only other piece of news is that the clerical supervisor is still having trouble keeping his hands to himself. He cornered another two employees by the copier. They’re filing official complaints right now.”

Sabrina looked up from the mail and frowned. “He’s been warned. Cal doesn’t tolerate that kind of behavior.”

Ada slipped on the bracelet and shrugged. “Apparently he’s bought into Cal’s good ol’boy act and thinks the fact that the boss invited him to lunch once means they’re best friends. I’m not sure. I’m just telling you what’s happening.”

“I appreciate it, Ada, and I’ll tell Cal. He’ll take care of it immediately.”

Ada set the jewelry back in the box and sighed. “You did very well. She’ll love it.”

“That’s the idea. To ease the pain of losing the man. Personally, I’d rather have the cash.”

“Me, too. Tell Cal I’m ready to start our affair anytime he likes. Or we can skip the affair completely and just get right to the parting gift. I want something that can be easily returned. Remember that, Sabrina, when you’re picking it out.”

Sabrina laughed and rose to her feet. “I’ll be sure and tell him, although I don’t think he’ll appreciate the fact that you’re only interested in the gift and not the man himself. Cal considers himself something of a prize where women are concerned.”

“Oh, he is. But we all know I’m old enough to be his mother. You, on the other hand—”

“Stop it, Ada. You know I’m not interested, either.” She headed down the hall. “Talk to you later.”

“You can’t stay immune forever,” Ada called after her.

“Oh, yes I can.”

Sabrina ignored the elevator and climbed the elegant spiral staircase that led to the executive level. She’d offered Ada an office of her own up there, but her assistant claimed she had to stay down with the “little” people in order to hear all the good gossip.

As she climbed, Sabrina finished sorting through the mail. Nothing pressing, nothing she couldn’t handle on her own. She reached her office, collected the messages Ada had left for her, then continued through to Cal’s suite.

Floor-to-ceiling windows filled two walls of his huge office. Aside from the requisite desk big enough to land a Harrier jet on, a conference table and two leather sofa groups to encourage chatty conversations, he also had a big-screen television, every computer game known to man and a temperature-controlled wine “closet” that stored a few dozen of his favorites. There was a full kitchen and dining room beyond, an oversize bathroom complete with shower and Jacuzzi tub and a private elevator that led directly down to the parking garage.

As Sabrina approached the desk, she tried to ignore the view out the windows. Houston was about the flattest place on earth, and if she bothered to look, she could see forever. She’d watched thunderstorms roll in, perfect sunsets and, once, even a tornado dance across the land. In her opinion, Texas had too much weather. She missed Southern California, where the only way to tell the changing of the seasons was by the clothes being sold in the department stores.

Cal finished his call and motioned for her to take a seat across from his desk. She sank down into the leather chair and set Tiffany’s parting gift on the chair next to hers.

Her boss met her gaze then looked away…almost as if he was embarrassed. How odd.

“Anything the matter?” she asked.

“No,” he answered. “Just following up on something. It’s…personal.”

“Oh.” Although she didn’t know everything about Cal’s life, she knew almost everything. And it had been a long time since he’d kept anything “personal” from her. At least she thought it had been.

“It’s nothing important. Any of that for me?” he said, referring to the stack of mail in her hand and deliberately changing the subject. He wasn’t the least bit subtle, she thought, and decided to let it go.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” she told him. “A few invitations.”

He grimaced. “Charity functions.”

“Of course.”

“Just send a check.”

She kept her smile hidden. If Cal wasn’t “involved” with a woman, he got fairly reclusive. Society matrons loathed his dry spells, as he was often the life of their parties. It would take him a couple of months to find someone to replace Tiffany, then his social life would be off and running.

“I’ve heard from the number ten rig,” he said. “The engineers figure another three to four days, but I think they’re going to hit in the next twenty-four hours.”

He never ceased to amaze her. Ada’s contacts had said the same thing. The difference was Cal made his assessment from his downtown office with nothing more than daily reports to guide him. Ada’s source was an old oil man from way back who phoned her when they were getting close.

“What does Ada say?” he asked.

Cal watched as Sabrina tried to hide her annoyance at his question. She didn’t like that he knew about her “source” in the office and would have preferred him to think she figured everything out on her own.

“The same,” she admitted. “Within the day.”

“Anything else I should know about?”

“The clerical supervisor is still having trouble keeping his hands to himself. A couple of staff members are filing official complaints.”

Cal leaned back in his chair and rested his hands on the padded leather arms. “I can’t say that I blame them. I hate it when this happens.”

The coolly spoken words were enough to make Sabrina straighten. She reached for a pad of paper on the edge of his desk and grabbed a pen. “Go ahead.”

“He’s already been warned. Have Human Resources investigate the allegations and prepare the case, then fire him. Oh, I want them to promote from within this time—all the better if it’s a woman so we can regain a little trust in that department—but tell them to be sure it’s the best candidate, someone with a good record of employee interaction.”

“That’s it?”

He gazed at his personal assistant. Her wide blue eyes met his unblinkingly. “What did you expect? That I would call him out at dawn? Pistols at twenty paces?”

“I thought you’d at least threaten to beat him up.”

Cal thought about the self-important young man who had been with the company less than a year. He’d been hired out of college, all cocky and convinced he was the next industry leader. Cal had put him in a supervisory position to season him. Obviously it hadn’t worked.

“I would like nothing more than to show him what it was like to be physically intimidated by someone with the authority to hire and fire, not to mention someone physically stronger. However, letting him go under these circumstances is going to be plenty of punishment. He’ll be left with a black mark on his employment record. So much for a rapid rise to success.”

“Do you want to give him an exit interview?”

Cal grinned. “Let Ada do it.”

Sabrina shook her head. “You are too cruel. That’s perfect. He’ll hate it.”

“And Ada will adore it. I call that a win-win. Oh, and set up a department meeting with the clerical staff in the next few days. I want to talk to them myself. I don’t approve of that kind of behavior. It’s illegal and immoral. I want to reassure everyone that the situation is being corrected. Immediately.”

Sabrina nodded as she took notes. She bent her head slightly, and the afternoon sunlight slipped through the window and caught in her short red hair—a layered cut falling just to the bottom of her collar. Her features were even, pleasant, if unremarkable. She had a nice smile, intelligent blue eyes and a figure that, after six years, was still something of a mystery to him. Despite the fact that she’d accompanied him on several working vacations, she always wore tailored clothing. Even her shorts-and-shirt sets had been proper and slightly loose. The only time he’d seen her in a bathing suit, it had been dark, and the shadows had prevented him from catching more than a glimpse of the occasional curve.

Not that he was overly interested in Sabrina’s body. It was more male pride than desire. She was the perfect assistant—smart, attentive and not afraid to say what she thought. She had a gut instinct he’d come to rely upon, about people and situations. She didn’t call attention to herself, and when he asked, she was willing to take care of his dirty work. The fact that she didn’t turn him on was a plus. He didn’t want the distraction and he couldn’t afford to lose her.

He wondered what her reaction would be if he told her that the phone call she’d interrupted had been with an editor from Prominence Magazine. A letter had come to his house yesterday, telling him that he’d been named one of the world’s most eligible bachelors by the magazine…and he’d been trying nicely to withdraw himself from such an “award.” Unfortunately, he’d hung up agreeing to do an interview instead. He could just imagine the way Sabrina’s eyes would sparkle with amusement once she heard about his most recent “honor.” He would definitely wait to tell her.

They spent the next hour going through business. “Don’t forget the trip to Singapore at the end of September,” he said. “We’re discussing the joint drilling venture.”

She continued to make notes. “I remember. Maybe we can stop by Hong Kong on our way back and have some Chinese food. There’s a lovely little restaurant there.” She glanced at him, and her expression was innocence itself.

“I remember,” he growled.

“Oh, Cal, you’re not still sore that I beat you, are you?”

“I was never sore about anything. You got lucky in the fourth quarter.”

“I was ahead the entire year. You’ve just conveniently forgotten that part.” She grinned. “I’m also ahead this year.”

He ignored her comment. For the past five years they’d had a bet on the stock market. On January first, he fronted them both ten thousand dollars to play the market. Whoever had the most money at the end of the year was the winner. The loser had to treat the winner to lunch anywhere the winner said. Last year, Sabrina had won and had claimed a taste for Chinese food…from Hong Kong.

“Actually, this year I’ve been thinking of Italian,” she murmured.

“Rome?” he asked.

“Maybe Venice. I’ve never been to Venice.”

“You’ve never been to Rome, either.”

“I know, but Venice sounds so fun. All that water, those boats. Venetian glass.”

She was already up twenty percent. It was his own fault. When they’d started their game, she’d insisted on a handicap. He wasn’t allowed to invest in oil or gas stocks, the one area he was guaranteed a win. She, on the other hand, invested heavily in his own company. Last year that had been enough to push her over the top.

“I know a great Italian restaurant in New York.”

The phone rang. She reached for it and grinned. “Don’t even think about weaseling out of it,” she said before picking up the receiver. “Mr. Langtry’s office. This is Sabrina.”

Cal didn’t pay attention to the call. It hadn’t come in on his private line, and Sabrina took care of most of his other business.

After a couple of minutes, she put the line on hold. “You’d better take this one,” she said.

“Next year the rules are changing. Either I can invest in my industry or you can’t, either.” He put down the paper he’d been reading and glanced at her. “Otherwise— Sabrina, what’s wrong?”

She’d gone pale. She didn’t have much color in her face, anyway, but the little that was there had drained away, leaving her ashen.

“Is it Tracey?” he asked, knowing his older sister was usually responsible for any trauma in his life.

“No. It’s your lawyer.” She motioned to the phone. “You’d better talk to him.”

Before he could ask her anything else, she rose and crossed the room, then let herself out. Cal frowned. He couldn’t think of a single thing he and his lawyer had to discuss that would require privacy. Sabrina knew almost all of his secrets. It was part of her job.

“Jack,” he said, when he’d picked up the receiver and released the hold button. “What’s going on?”

“Are you sitting down, Cal?”

He didn’t like the sound of that. “Get to the point, Jack. Whatever you said chased Sabrina from the room, and she’s pretty unflappable.”

“Okay. Do you remember a woman named Janice Thomas? You had a relationship with her back in college.”

Cal frowned as the memory fell into place. “That was about twelve or thirteen years ago. Between college and grad school. We went out for a summer. What does that have to do with anything?”

“It seems she had a baby. A daughter. From what I’ve found out, when she discovered she was pregnant, she approached your parents. She wasn’t interested in marriage as much as money. They agreed on a very tidy sum with the understanding that you would never know about the child. Unfortunately, Janice died in childbirth. The baby was given up for adoption. Her adoptive parents were killed in a car accident nearly a year ago. She’s been living with an aunt in Ohio, an older lady who no longer wants responsibility for the girl. That’s why I’m calling. I thought you’d want to know. If you don’t take the girl, the aunt is going to make her a ward of the court.”

Cal knew intellectually there weren’t any fault lines in Houston, so the sudden tilting he felt couldn’t be an earthquake. But that’s how it seemed. As if his whole world had just been jolted from its axis.

“Cal, are you still there?” his attorney asked. “Did you hear me? You’ve got a twelve-year-old daughter.”

A daughter? From Janice? The enormity of the information stunned him. Nothing made sense. A child? Him? No wonder Sabrina had left the room.

“I heard you, Jack.” He’d heard, although he didn’t have a damn clue as to what he was going to do now.

Chapter 2

“I don’t know what to say,” Cal told his attorney. He turned in his chair so he was facing the window, but he didn’t even see the view. Instead, images of Janice filled his mind. He remembered her as being of average height and pretty. They’d met while interning for the same oil-and-gas firm one summer. “Are you sure about this? Why didn’t she tell me she was pregnant?”

“Like I said, she was after money, not matrimony. I guess she knew about the trouble your parents had with Tracey and figured they would be willing to pay her off. One of the retired partners here at the firm prepared the paperwork, Cal. I’ve seen it. In fact, telling you this raises some issues regarding attorney-client privileges within the firm. But this is important enough that I’m willing to deal with any backlash. Janice was offered a sizable amount to keep quiet and stay away from you. If she hadn’t died unexpectedly, she wouldn’t have had to work again for life.”

Nothing made sense. Cal tried to pick a rooftop outside and focus on it, but the task was too difficult. Janice had gotten pregnant? She’d gone to his parents instead of him? She hadn’t wanted to get married, she’d just wanted the money?

“I don’t want to believe any of this,” he said, too stunned to be angry. “I tried to get in touch with her when I went back to college. She just disappeared. I thought she’d run off with someone else.”

A child. He couldn’t imagine that being real. That one of those long summer nights had resulted in a new life.

Jack cleared his throat. “Look, Cal, I’m your lawyer, not your conscience. You say the word and I’ll pretend this conversation never happened. You don’t know this kid from a rock and that doesn’t have to change. Let the aunt turn her over to the state. It’s probably better that way. The reports I have say she’s been having problems. Poor adjustment in her new school, falling grades, antisocial behavior. Do you really want that kind of mess right now? Face it, your life is pretty damned good. Why change that?”

Cal knew Jack was just trying to do his job—which was to make his most wealthy client’s life easier, however possible. Cal supposed there were many men who would simply walk away from this kind of information—he had a feeling he was going to wish he had. But he couldn’t.

“If she lost her parents less than a year ago, I’m not surprised she’s having trouble adjusting,” Cal said. “Everything’s been taken away from her. She’s living with an aunt who doesn’t want her. She probably knows she’s going to get thrown out any minute. These circumstances wouldn’t make anyone look like a poster child for mental health.”

“You’re right, of course,” Jack said. “I’m not the enemy here, I’m simply pointing out different options.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Cal said. “This is impossible for me to believe. I can’t help thinking I would have known if Janice was pregnant, but that, as Sabrina would gladly tell me, is male arrogance at its worst.”

“I understand. You’re going to need some time to think about this. The aunt will keep her about two more weeks, so no decisions have to made today. There are a lot of different ways to play this one. I suspect with a little financial encouragement, the aunt might be willing to keep her longer. If you want, I can look into boarding schools. Or, as I already mentioned, she can go into foster care. You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

Cal felt as if he’d been blindsided by a tanker. He heard his attorney’s words and knew he had plenty to think about, but one thing was certain. “I’m not going to let her go to the state. If there’s proof she’s my daughter, then she’s my responsibility.”

“Oh, there’s proof. Your parents had her checked when she was born. She’s yours.”

That was all Cal had to know. He’d done a lot of things in his life that he wasn’t especially proud of, but he’d never walked away from his responsibilities. “I have a few things to take care of. Sabrina or I will be in touch in the next day or so with the particulars. In the meantime, call the aunt back and tell her I’ll be out to pick up my daughter before the end of the week.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

No, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He only knew he had to. “If she’s mine, Jack, I don’t have a choice.”

His lawyer sighed. “I figured as much. I’ll let her know.”

“I’m going to New York to talk to my mother. If you have to get in touch with me, the office will know where I am.”

“Will do.”

Cal was about to hang up the phone when he heard Jack call his name. “What?” he asked.

“Don’t you want to know her name?”

The question shocked him. Giving the child a name made her more real—an actual person with an identity. “Yes.”

“Anastasia Overton.”

“Anastasia? What the hell kind of name is that for a twelve-year-old kid?” He shrugged. “I know you can’t answer that one, either. Okay, Jack, I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up the phone.

Silence filled the room. Cal leaned back in his chair and swore. He pushed to his feet and stalked to the window. “What the hell is going on? How did this happen?”

He didn’t even know what he was asking. Did he mean how had Janice gotten pregnant? That would be pretty easy to answer. Maybe he meant how had the pregnancy been kept from him? Or maybe how had his parents thought they could get away with keeping news of his own child from him?

But they had, a small voice whispered inside his head. For twelve years his mother had sat in silence. She’d sacrificed her own grandchild for the greater good. At least that’s what she would tell him. He could already hear her voice.

The quiet got to him, and without thinking he turned back to his desk and hit a button beside his telephone. Less than thirty seconds later Sabrina stepped into the room.

Her usually animated face was strangely solemn. He half expected a crack, then realized that was never her style. She liked to banter and fight with him, but only on even terms. She would never attack him when he was vulnerable.

“How much did Jack tell you?” he asked.

Sabrina walked to one of the leather sofas and gracefully sank onto a cushion. He walked toward her and took a seat at the far end of the same sofa. He wanted to be close, but he found he couldn’t face her. Odd, because Sabrina knew the worst there was to know about him. Knew it and didn’t judge him. That was one of the reasons he kept her around.

“He said that you’d been involved with a young woman about thirteen years ago and she’d gotten pregnant, apparently on purpose. When you went off to grad school, she approached your parents, promising to stay out of your life if they paid her enough. They agreed. When the woman died in childbirth, the child was put up for adoption. She’s now living in Ohio with an elderly aunt.”

He faced front and braced his elbows on his knees, then clasped his hands together. “That about sums it up. Her name was Janice—the woman, not the kid.” He glanced at her. “This is one of the bigger messes you’ve had to help me clean up. I guess you’re going to be expecting a substantial raise this year.”

She gave him a slight smile. “This isn’t a mess. I would never think that. You didn’t know about this. Jack told me he’d only found out about it a couple of days ago.”

“You believe him?” He asked the question casually but suddenly found that her opinion mattered.

“Of course.” She angled toward him. “Cal, you’re nothing like your sister. Tracey is spoiled and willful. If this were her problem, she would have let the child go without giving him or her a second thought. You’re not like that. If you’d known about your daughter from the beginning, you would have done the right thing, whether that meant marrying Janice or just providing for your child.”

Her expression was earnest, her words sincere. He appreciated that. Jack had claimed not to be Cal’s conscience, and Cal agreed. But there were times he wondered if that was actually part of Sabrina’s job. Knowing that he was going to have to look her in the eye often influenced his behavior, and for the better.

“You’re right. So thirteen years after the fact, I’m going to do the right thing. But first I’m going to New York to talk to my mother.”

Sabrina raised her eyebrows. “I’m surprised.”

“That I’m going to take my daughter or that I’m going to visit my mother.”

“Both, although I’m more surprised about your mother. I don’t remember you ever going to see her.”

Cal grimaced. “We’re not what you would call a close family. I think I’ve seen her twice since my father died, and that was nearly ten years ago. She wasn’t the maternal type. Mother is very big on how things look rather than how they are. This situation proves that.”

“Have you thought this through?” Sabrina asked.

He knew she wasn’t asking about the visit. There was no reason to consider that. He needed information and his mother was the best source. After all, she and his father had been the ones to make the decision for him.

The shock was starting to fade, and he felt the first flicker of emotion since receiving Jack’s phone call. It wasn’t paternal pride at finding out he had offspring, or even curiosity at what his daughter would be like. Instead, what he felt was rage. Cold, dark rage. He told himself his parents had never considered his opinions or feelings before and he shouldn’t be surprised they hadn’t where Janice was concerned. Based on his thirty-four years as their son, nothing about their actions should shock him. Yet he was appalled at their complete disregard for his rights as a father and their callous disposal of their grandchild. As he had often thought in the past, he would have been better off being raised by wolves than Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson Langtry.

Sabrina leaned toward him. “We’re talking about a growing child. She’s nearly a teenager. Have you thought about what this is going to do to you and your life? If you really mean to take care of her, everything will have to change.”

He stood up and paced in front of the sofa. “No, I haven’t thought it through. I haven’t had time. Right now I can barely grasp the concept of having a child. I haven’t had a chance to internalize the information. But that doesn’t matter. The girl exists and she’s my responsibility. I’m not going to let her become a ward of the state. She didn’t ask for her circumstances. She’s a kid, and as far as she knows, no one in the world wants her. I might not be anyone’s idea of a perfect father, but I’m not going to turn my back on her.”

Sabrina smiled at him. “Every now and then you do something that reminds me why I like working for you.”

“So it’s not just about the money?”

“Not today.”

He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “The good news is, once Tiffany finds out about my daughter, I won’t have to worry about breaking up with her. She’ll run so hard and fast, she’ll leave skid marks.”

“You don’t know that. Maybe she would revel in the chance to show what she’s made of.”

Cal stopped pacing and stared down at Sabrina. Her blue gaze was steady. “I do know that,” he told her. “I went out with her for nearly two months. While I don’t know everything about her, I’m quite aware of her character. Besides, she’s too young to be responsible for a twelve-year-old.”

“But not too young to be dating that twelve-year-old’s father?”

She asked the question with a straight face, but he saw the hint of a smile teasing at the corner of her mouth.

“You never give me a break,” he complained.

“It’s not in my job description. Besides, there are enough people thrilled to do that every chance they get.”

“So you want to spend your time taking me down a notch or two?”

“No. It’s not that personal. However, my job description does include telling you the truth, even when you don’t want to hear it.”

“It’s your favorite part of the job,” he grumbled.

“Sometimes.” This time she did smile. “And I think there’s a chance you could be wrong about Tiffany. She’s not bright, but that doesn’t mean she’s heartless. She might surprise you.”

Cal didn’t want to be surprised. Even if Sabrina was right, it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t want someone like Tiffany near his daughter. Which was a pretty sad state of affairs, he told himself. He was willing to date and sleep with Tiffany, but he wouldn’t want her hanging around his kid. So what had he seen in her in the first place?

He thought about her perfect twenty-year-old body and got a little of the answer, although he didn’t like it. When had he gotten so damn shallow? Was this what he wanted Prominence Magazine to tell the world? Thank God he had Sabrina. He knew he could count on her. He also trusted her.

Sabrina glanced at her watch. “You could still catch a flight to New York this evening. You’ll get in late, but that would allow you to see your mother tomorrow. I’m assuming you want this over as quickly as possible.”

He nodded. “I want to get Anastasia in the next couple of days. She’s living with an aunt, and the woman has made it clear to everyone that she’s not interested in keeping the girl. That’s a hell of a thing for a twelve-year-old to know.”

Sabrina stood up and started toward his desk. “Let me see what I can do about getting you a seat. One night in New York, or two?”

“Make it two. I don’t know how long I’ll be with my mother, but I doubt we’ll have a big family reunion. I already know our conversation is going to make me angry, and I’ll need some time to get over it before going to Ohio. Oh, and book two seats, Sabrina. I want you to come with me.”

His personal assistant looked at him. Wide blue eyes darkened slightly. “You want me to come with you while you talk to your mother?”

“Let’s just say I haven’t lost my temper with her yet, but I’ve come close. If anything was going to push me over the edge, this would be it.”

“I’m not big enough to wrestle you into submission.”

“I know, but one of your icy stares is usually enough to remind me to behave.”

“Okay. I’ll come, too. After all, I’m yours to command.”

“Cheap talk. I command you to stop winning on the stock market.”

She blinked slowly. “I’m sorry. Did you say something? I heard a faint buzzing, but no real words.”

“Just as I thought. Selective hearing.”

“I listen when you say something worth paying attention to.”

He pointed at the phone. “Get us seats. If you promise to behave, I’ll let you have the window.”

“What a guy.”

She picked up the phone on his desk and dialed from memory. While she talked with the airline, Cal crossed to the window and stared out. It was nearly dusk and lights were coming on all around him. He stared into the twilight and wondered about the little girl living somewhere north of here. What did she look like? He could barely remember Janice’s face, although other images were clear to him. The sound of her laughter, the feel of her hands on his body.

There had been, he was willing to admit, an instant attraction between them. A fire that had burned hot and bright. He didn’t remember asking her out, though. At the time, it had sort of seemed to happen on its own. Now, with the hindsight of age, experience and knowledge, he wondered if it had really been that casual. Had she set him up from the beginning, then engineered the entire relationship?

He remembered that the sex between them had been intense. With her claim of being on the pill, they hadn’t worried about precautions. She’d always been eager and willing. At times, she’d been the one pulling him into bed. He remembered being flattered by her attentions and what he’d thought at the time was her insatiable desire for him. Now he realized she had just been making sure she got pregnant. He’d been a fool.

He remembered her tears when he’d left for graduate school, her promises to stay in touch. He remembered how he’d tried to call her, but her phone had been disconnected with no forwarding number. His letters had been returned without a forwarding address. It was as if she’d disappeared from the face of the earth. He supposed she had—after all, seven or eight months after they’d spent their summer together, she’d died.

He tried to feel regret for her loss, but he couldn’t. He’d never known her. Whatever parts of herself she’d shown him had been designed to get him into her bed. Obviously he, too, had been born with the Langtry ability to completely screw up personal relationships.

How much had they offered her? What was a child worth these days? He pressed his hand against the cool glass and wondered how it was possible that his parents had performed this hideous deception. Then he reminded himself nothing they did should surprise him. With his family, he should know to expect anything…and nothing.

Chapter 3

Sabrina leaned back into the comfortable leather seat of the sleek limousine and told herself to relax. This wasn’t her problem; she was simply an interested bystander. Cal wanted her along to provide moral support, nothing more. But the sensible words didn’t stop her from clasping her hands together over and over.

She tried to distract herself from her nerves by staring out the window. As always, the city enchanted her. She’d never lived in Manhattan but had enjoyed her visits. She liked the contrasts of the city—the huge buildings, the large impersonal crowds, the street vendors who sold food and drinks on the corners and, after two days, recognized her and grinned as they asked if she would like her usual. She liked all the city had to offer culturally, she loved the theater and the restaurants. When she traveled with Cal, they stayed at beautiful hotels—as they had last night—but they didn’t limit their culinary experiences to upscale, pretentious eateries. Instead, they found strange little places with unusual cuisine and often fabulous food. She liked the potential for adventure and the fact that no two visits were ever alike.

Under normal circumstances, she was usually thrilled to be in the city. Today, however, she would gladly give it all up to be back in the heat and humidity of Houston.

She didn’t want to think about the upcoming visit, so she rolled down her window. It was a perfect New York spring day. Clear, warm but not muggy. The scent of blooming flowers occasionally overpowered the smell of exhaust. A burst of laughter caught her attention. She looked across to the sidewalk and saw a young father carrying his toddler son on his shoulders.

She swallowed. A child. She hadn’t really allowed herself to think about children. She was still young and there was plenty of time. But children had always been a part of her future. She’d just assumed that one day she would have them. Cal was different. As far as she knew, he’d never even thought he would marry, let alone have a family. Here he was being presented with a half-grown kid. How on earth was he going to handle it?

She glanced at her boss. He stared straight ahead, and for once, his handsome face was unreadable. He didn’t show his feelings easily, but over the years, she’d learned to read him. Until today. She knew he was in shock and he was angry. She couldn’t blame him for either emotion. Bad enough to find out a former girlfriend had betrayed him in such a calculated way, but that information was made more horrible by the realization his own parents had joined the conspiracy.

Cal’s father had died before she’d been hired and she’d never met his mother. She’d heard rumors and stories, mostly from Ada, about a cold society woman who put up with her husband’s chronic philandering in order to keep her lifestyle intact. The marriage had been a business arrangement. One half had brought in land rich with oil; the other, technology, engineering know-how and a small infusion of cash. Separately the families had been struggling, together they formed an empire. An empire that, according to Ada, hadn’t left any time for raising children. Cal and Tracey had been put into the custody of an ever-changing staff.

“What are you thinking?” Cal asked.

“That a twelve-year-old is going to change your life.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you realize how much. Children are a big responsibility. I remember helping Gram with my younger brother and sisters after our parents died. They were a handful.”

He shrugged. “I don’t have a choice. I’ll learn what I have to. At least I want the girl. That’s more than her aunt can say. That should count.”

“It will.” But would it be enough? Sabrina wasn’t sure. After all, Cal wasn’t into long-term commitments. His idea of a serious relationship was one that lasted two months. His record to date was ninety-three days. Still, a daughter was different from a girlfriend.

The limo pulled up in front of an East Side high-rise coop. One of the uniformed doormen stepped to the curb and opened the door. Sabrina accepted his assistance from the vehicle, then waited for Cal to lead the way inside. She’d worked for him for several years and thought she’d grown used to their difference in background and wealth, but occasionally obvious signs of his family’s impressive fortune intimidated her.

“I didn’t call to say we were coming,” she murmured as they stepped into the elegant foyer and walked to the elevators.

“I did. She’s in this morning. She has a lunch appointment, but I told her this wouldn’t take long.”

Sabrina smoothed her hair, then tugged on the skirt of her hunter green silk suit. It was the most expensive work outfit she owned and she’d brought it deliberately. No doubt Mrs. Langtry would consider her beneath notice—after all, she was just the hired help. But she also figured she would need all the confidence-boosting she could get.

Instead of opening into a hallway, the elevator doors pulled back to reveal a huge living room. Marble floors and glass tables reflected the light from outside…light that flowed in through floor-to-ceiling windows. Unlike Cal’s office view, this one didn’t show a flat world, but instead stretched across Central Park, to the equally impressive buildings on the other side. The windows on her left looked south, and Sabrina realized Mrs. Langtry not only had a penthouse, but one on the corner.

Must be nice to be the other half, she thought, before the click of approaching heels caught her attention.

A very elegant, very beautiful older woman swept into the room. She had to be in her late fifties, but she looked substantially younger. Sleekly styled brown hair hung to her shoulders. She was thin, well-dressed and had the air of one born to society and money. Sabrina instantly felt dowdy. Her instinct was to take a step back in the presence of someone so different. Instead, she forced herself to square her shoulders and stand her ground.

“Good morning, Calhoun,” his mother said. “You’re looking well. Taller than I remember. You get that from your father, of course. The Langtrys are always tall. We’ll talk in the morning room. It’s this way.” She motioned to a doorway on their right. “Your secretary can wait in the kitchen.” Mrs. Langtry offered Sabrina a slight smile. “It’s through there, dear. Just past the dining room. Cook will get you some coffee and maybe a pastry.”

Before she could move, Sabrina felt Cal’s hand on the small of her back. “That won’t be necessary, Mother. Sabrina isn’t my secretary, she’s my personal assistant. I don’t have any secrets from her. She’ll be joining us this morning.”

His mother’s expression didn’t change, but her nose twitched slightly as if she’d accidently inhaled an unpleasant odor. Sabrina resisted the urge to tell Cal she was more than happy to wait in the kitchen with Cook. For one thing, she would like to find out if Cook actually had a first name, and maybe even discover the gender of that person.

Nerves, she told herself. Okay, so she wasn’t a Langtry, but she was an Innis, and while they weren’t exactly top drawer, she’d graduated at the head of her class at UCLA. She was bright, funny and good at her job. So what if no one in her family was listed in the social registry?

“As you wish,” Mrs. Langtry said, and led the way.

Sabrina stared at the woman’s beige silk blouse. The fabric looked as if it was made from starlight, it was so smooth and flowing. Did the rich get fabric from a better class of silkworms? Did silk still come from worms? She would have to look that up when they got back to Texas.

The morning room was spacious and bright, with over-stuffed sofas and a low table set with coffee service. Sabrina saw there were only two cups. Mrs. Langtry pushed a button on the wall. When a young woman in a black dress with a starched white apron appeared, she ordered a third cup and some pastries.

Cal motioned for Sabrina to sit on one sofa. She was grateful when he settled next to her. She leaned close and whispered, “So do the afternoon and evening rooms get progressively bigger? I have no experience with this, you know. Back in California, we had one little old living room. It was good enough for the likes of us.”

Cal grinned. “I’ll fill you in on architecture of the rich on the way back to the hotel. It’s pretty interesting.”

“I’ll bet.”

She glanced up and saw Mrs. Langtry frowning. Sabrina doubted the older woman had heard any part of their conversation, so she must be unhappy with their obvious familiarity. She thought about telling Cal’s mother that there was nothing going on between them, nor was that ever going to change, but she figured the woman wouldn’t believe her, and even if she did, she would pretend not to care.

The maid returned with a third cup, then quietly left the room, closing the door behind her.

Mrs. Langtry poured coffee. She handed Cal his black, then looked expectantly at Sabrina. “Sugar? Cream?”

“Cream, please.”

Mrs. Langtry complied, then held out the cup. When Sabrina took it, the older woman’s attention turned back to her son. “I still think whatever you want to discuss would be better done in private.”

“Sabrina knows it all, Mother. Well, not all. Obviously there are secrets even I’m not aware of, but those are the exception. After all, who do you think worked out the details of paying off Tracey’s last husband?”

Mrs. Langtry’s mouth pursed. “I see.”

Sabrina resisted the urge to hunch down on the seat. But she had been the one to take care of Tracey’s problem. Cal’s older sister had a bad habit of falling for men who were only interested in her money. She’d been married six times and had had an assortment of lovers, all of whom used her, taking what they could and leaving as soon as the funds dried up.

It was sad, she thought to herself. All this money and no one was happy. She remembered Ada’s comments about Cal’s mother being a cold witch. What no one could figure out was, had her husband fooled around because life was icy at home, or had his philandering caused the chill in the first place? Considering how they’d been raised, maybe it wasn’t surprising the Langtry children hadn’t found marital bliss, or even a decent relationship.

Cal set his cup on the coffee table. “Does the name Janice Thomas mean anything to you, Mother?”

“No.” She took a sip. “Should it?”

“Yes, actually it should. Unless Tracey has a couple of kids that I don’t know about, Janice was the mother of your only grandchild.”

Mrs. Langtry drew in a deep breath. Her dark eyes, so like her son’s, didn’t waver. She took another sip, then nodded. “So you found out about the child. I suppose it was foolish to hope that unfortunate incident wouldn’t come to light. Oh, well, you know about it now. No harm done.”

Sabrina felt Cal start to burn. The heat of his anger singed her skin. She placed a hand on his forearm and gave a quick squeeze. His glance of thanks told her that he had been about to lose control.

“I don’t know which comment to address first,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “Your calling it an ‘incident’ or the statement of ‘no harm done.’ You played with lives, Mother. You kept information about a woman’s pregnancy from me. You kept my child from me.”

She dismissed him with a wave. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You were what, twenty-two? Did you actually want to marry the little gold-digger? I don’t think so. Your father and I knew exactly what had to be done. Janice Thomas didn’t want to marry you, she wanted money. Under the circumstances, it was simpler to pay her off. I don’t regret it for a moment, and you shouldn’t, either. We were prepared to set her up for life. It’s hardly our fault that she died.”

Sabrina knew that Cal’s mother was cold, but she hadn’t expected to feel the frost seeping into her body. She was stunned by the woman’s callous words and had to consciously keep her mouth from hanging open.

“We are talking about my daughter and your grandchild. You had no right—”

The older woman set her coffee cup on the table and glared at him. “We had every right,” she said, cutting him off in mid-sentence. “Your future was set, or it would have been if you’d ever bothered to settle down. You were going to run Langtry Oil and Gas. You barely knew the girl, so don’t try to tell me you lost the love of your life. The truth is, you haven’t thought of her once in the past thirteen years. All this righteous indignation over what? She was money-hungry trash. She got what she deserved.”

Cal set his teeth. “I’ll admit I didn’t fall in love with Janice. I take issue with your comment that she got what she deserved, but that is not the point. I had a child and you kept that information from me. You let your own grandchild be adopted. I’ll bet you didn’t bother to keep track of her.”

“No. Why should we? All this fuss. What’s the point? The past is over. You wouldn’t be interested in a child with a mother like Janice. I don’t know how you found out about her, and I don’t really care. If you want a child so much, marry someone suitable and have one. Stop chasing around with those young girls. You and your sister. Whatever did your father and I do to deserve such children?”

Cal rose to his feet. “Nothing, Mother. You two did nothing.”

“Where are you going?”

“Why does it matter?”

“You’re going to do something stupid, aren’t you. Something with the child. This is why we didn’t tell you about Janice all those years ago. You would have married the mother, or at least taken responsibility for the child. We saved you that, but you’re not grateful. You don’t understand. You’ve never understood.”

“You’re right, Mother. I don’t understand. And yes, I’m going to go get my daughter, and I’m going to do my damnedest to be a good parent to her. But that’s something you wouldn’t understand.”

Sabrina didn’t remember standing, but suddenly she was at Cal’s side and they were leaving the room, closing the door behind them. Mrs. Langtry continued talking, her words fading as they moved away. Sabrina was grateful. She didn’t want to hear anything else. She was too shocked. Knowing that Cal’s mother was a cold woman was very different from experiencing it firsthand.

They crossed the living room and waited in front of the elevator. Cal pushed the Down button.

“Cal?”

Both he and Sabrina turned toward the soft voice. Tracey Langtry stood in the shadows. She was a beautiful female version of her brother, or she had been at one time. The morning light was not kind, highlighting the lines on her face. Her lifestyle had not allowed her to age well, and she looked far older than her thirty-eight years.

Worn jeans hung on too-narrow hips.

“Cal, I need some money. I’ve used up my allowance.”

Cal didn’t look at her. Instead, he stared impatiently at the closed elevator doors as if willing them to open. “Who is he this time?”

“Oh, he’s lovely. A race car driver. Very good, very young.” She giggled. “Very nice in bed. I—” She hiccupped, then covered her mouth. “I like him a lot.”

Sabrina realized the other woman was drunk, and it was barely ten in the morning. She considered herself fairly sophisticated, but this was too much. She took a step away from Tracey and toward Cal.

“There’s a race and he needs the entry fee. Plus, traveling around gets so expensive. Please, Cal, just ten or twenty thousand. You won’t even miss it.”

He didn’t answer. The elevator doors opened and he guided Sabrina inside, followed her and pushed the Down button. As the door closed, he didn’t bother saying goodbye.

They reached street level and walked toward the limousine. Sabrina didn’t think the silence between them was especially awkward, but she felt obligated to think of something to say. Something to tell Cal that she didn’t judge him by his family. But she couldn’t find any words. Not without making a difficult situation worse.

After they were settled in the car and he’d given the driver instructions to return them to their hotel, he finally looked at her. Something dark and painful lurked in his eyes.

“When I was a kid, I used to pretend that I’d been left on the doorstep by Gypsies and that one day they would come back to get me. At this point I would be grateful just to have been adopted. I’m not happy to have that gene pool floating around in my body. I could turn into one of them at any moment.”

“If it was going to happen, it would have happened already. You’re safe.”

“You think so?” He turned toward the window. “I’m not so sure.”

“Cal, you’re a good man. If you were like them, you wouldn’t care about your daughter. You would have let her go into foster homes or arranged boarding school. You’re making an effort. That counts.”

She wanted to tell him that she admired him. When she thought about all he’d been through as a child, of the horrible life he’d had, she was amazed that he’d turned out as well as he had. It was a testament to his character. Sometimes she forgot there was a real person behind the handsome playboy facade, then something like this came along and reminded her.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he continued. “But I’m not sorry you were there. Lord only knows what I would have done to that woman if I’d been alone.”

She wasn’t sure if he was talking about his mother or Tracey, and realized he probably meant both of them. She didn’t doubt that in a couple of days he would tell her to send his sister a check. Maybe not for the amount she’d requested, but for enough to tide her over until her next trust fund payment.

“Every family has dirty laundry. You’d be shocked if you knew some of my secrets.”

He looked at her and smiled. “Yeah, right. You have secrets? What? That you went to bed without flossing twice all of last year?”

She glared at him. “They’re more interesting than that.”

“I doubt it. You are not the kind of woman who has deep, dark secrets. Don’t worry, Sabrina, I’m not complaining. Far from it.”

Before she could protest that she could be bad, too, if she wanted, he did the most extraordinary thing. He reached out and took her hand in his.

Sabrina blinked twice, then stared at their linked fingers. She and Cal often touched. A light brush of his arm against hers when they walked together. A teasing poke in her side if he thought she was being too stuffy. He’d hugged her a half dozen times or so over the course of their working relationship. But those had all been impersonal buddy-type contacts. This was personal.

She felt his heat and strength. His long fingers and broad palm dwarfed her hand, leaving her feeling incredibly feminine. A strange lethargy stole over her, and it was only when her chest started to get tight that she realized she’d stopped breathing.

She forced herself to draw in a deep breath, then release it. This wasn’t happening. She glanced down and saw that it was. He was actually holding her hand. Then, as if he’d read her mind and realized what he was doing, he squeezed once and released her.

Sabrina sat next to him, feeling as if she’d just survived a force three tornado. Her entire body felt buffeted. Every cell was on alert, her skin tingled where it had been in contact with his, and if she allowed herself to notice, she would have to confess to a definite hint of dampness on her panties.

Danger! a voice in her head screamed. Danger! Danger! Do not do this to yourself!

She straightened and gave the voice her full attention. Every word was true. Cal Langtry was deadly to women everywhere. He was only ever interested in the chase. Once he’d caught his chosen prey, he lost interest and ended the relationship. She’d seen it happen countless times. Besides, they had a perfectly wonderful working relationship. She adored her job, she was well paid, and she wasn’t a fool. Not only would she jeopardize everything if she started thinking of Cal as a man instead of her employer, she would be wishing after the moon. After all, she wasn’t his type.

As painful as it was, she forced herself to remember a phone call she’d overheard nearly six years before. She’d been working for Cal all of two or three months and had been fighting a serious crush. It had been late and she’d entered his office unannounced.

He had his back to the door and didn’t notice her in the shadows. She still didn’t know who he’d been talking to and she didn’t want to know. What she recalled most was that he’d been talking about her.

“Yes, my new assistant is working out great. I’m impressed with her.” He’d paused to listen. “I did say ‘her.’ Sabrina is very much a woman.”

She thought about how her heart had leapt in her chest and her knees had grown weak. Was it possible he’d been attracted to her, too?

“No, you’ve got it all wrong. She’s perfect for me. She’s bright and too good for me to ever want to let her go. She’s attractive enough so that no one is going to think she’s a dog, but not pretty enough to interest me. It’s great. No matter how closely we work together, Sabrina Innis will never be more than office equipment to me.”

The words had laid her soul bare. She’d crept out silently and spent the rest of the night crying away her foolish dreams. In the cold light of dawn, she’d made a decision. She could continue to want what she could never have, or she could make the best of what was a wonderful job. With Cal she would make enough money to put her three siblings through college and provide for Gram. She would also be able to build a nest egg for herself. The position of Cal’s assistant meant travel, all of which would be first class, a chance to meet interesting people and gain experiences she would never have otherwise. Did it matter that she didn’t turn the man on?

In the end, common sense had won out over ego. She’d ruthlessly suppressed every hint of her crush until her wayward emotions fell into line. Now she could look at Cal and see him for the handsome bachelor he was without feeling anything but friendship. She’d bought gifts for his women and had made arrangements for romantic weekends away all without a twinge of jealousy or regret. So what had just happened?

Sabrina thought about all that had occurred in the past twenty-four hours. It must be the tension, she told herself. She hadn’t slept much the previous night. Dealing with Cal’s family was difficult for both of them. He’d reached out for comfort and she’d happened to be the closest person. She’d reacted because he was a good-looking man and she’d been living like a nun. Wayward hormones and close proximity. Nothing else. She didn’t have any romantic feelings for the man. How could she? She knew the worst about him. She still liked him, but she sure wasn’t fooled by his charming personality. Cal Langtry might be an incredible catch, but he had flaws, just like everyone else.

The limo pulled up in front of the hotel. She looked over at her boss. “What do you want to do?”

“There’s no point in staying here. Let’s change the flights and go to Ohio this afternoon. I’ll call Jack and have him notify the aunt. If I can, I want to get my daughter as soon as possible.”

Chapter 4

The town was a three-hour drive from the airport. Cal slowed at the intersection. There were only two other cars in sight and both of them were at least ten years old. Although he’d traveled to many unusual places, he’d always lived in large cities—Houston, Dallas, New York for a short time. In the back of his mind, he’d wondered what it would be like to live in a place where everyone knew everyone else.

“Follow this street about a mile,” Sabrina said, consulting the handwritten directions Jack, his attorney, had provided them. “Then turn right. Oster Street. There should be a stop sign.”

There were small business on both sides of what was obviously the main road. A diner, a barber shop, a closed five-and-dime. He was about to say it didn’t look as bad as Jack had made it out to be when he noticed the peeling paint on most of the buildings. Some of the windows were boarded up. The farther he drove into town and away from the highway, the more run-down everything seemed.

He turned right where Sabrina indicated. Commercial and retail areas gave way to houses. He saw a lot of broken or missing fences, cars up on blocks. Side yards contained clotheslines with drying garments flapping in the brisk breeze. Porches sagged, yards were overgrown with weeds. They passed a block with five houses for sale, four of which had signs proclaiming the price had been reduced.

“This place is dying,” he said.

“I know. It’s sad. Jack said the main factory closed and there’s no employment. A lot of people have already gone, and those who stayed are having trouble earning an income. In a couple of years, there won’t be anything left.”

Their rental car was a plain General Motors four-door sedan, nothing fancy. But it was relatively new and seemed out of place on the narrow street. “I’m glad we didn’t take a limo.”

“I agree. Turn right at the stop sign.” Sabrina rolled down her window and took a breath. “I feel badly for these people. You can smell the poverty.” She shivered. “What’s that saying? ‘Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt.’ I don’t want to go back.”

Cal frowned. “You told me that you grew up without a lot of money, but things were never this desperate, were they?”

“Not really. We didn’t have extra spending money, but we got by. After my folks died and we moved in with my grandmother, we had a few months that were pretty difficult, before the social security kicked in. Then it wasn’t so bad. Besides, Gram was a hoot to live with. I remember her standing at the stove fixing macaroni and cheese. We had it about three times a week because it was cheap and all us kids liked it. Anyway, she would stir in that orange powder stuff, look at me and say, ‘Sabrina Innis, being poor sucks. You make sure you do better.’” Sabrina laughed. “She was wonderful.”

“Yeah.” He thought about his half dozen meetings with Sabrina’s grandmother. The feisty old lady was opinionated, but charming as hell. “Why don’t we have her out to visit soon?”

“I’d like that. Thanks. But we’re going to have to wait. She’s planning a summer trip to Alaska. I know she’s going on a ten-day cruise, and after that, she and her friends are taking the train through the state.”

Cal knew exactly who was paying for Gram’s vacation. “You’re generous with her.”

“She was good to me and I love her. I want her to be happy.”

“You also listened to her statement that being poor sucked. Is that why you took the job with me?”

When Sabrina had graduated from UCLA, she’d had four serious job offers with Fortune 500 companies. Cal had been recruiting for his firm as well, and when he’d first interviewed Sabrina, he’d realized she could be a great assistant for him. As the job didn’t come with room for advancement or a lot of corporate exposure, he’d sweetened the pot with promises of travel and a generous starting salary.

Sabrina chuckled. “Are you asking if I only want you for your money? Cal, it’s not like you to be insecure.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Oh, serious. That’s different.” Her blue eyes twinkled. “Okay, the money was a large part of it. I wanted to help Gram out and I had three younger siblings heading for college. But that wasn’t the only reason I took the job. I knew I would be giving up some things, but working for you offered the opportunity to travel, to learn about a major corporation from the top down. There was also the issue of moving to Houston. I was ready to be on my own, and getting out of Los Angeles made that possible.”

He had the oddest urge to ask her if she had any regrets. Regrets about not taking the other jobs. He told himself he was reading too much into her words. At times the job was difficult, but he knew Sabrina enjoyed her work. If she didn’t, she would have moved on a long time ago.

“Were you heartbroken when you realized I wasn’t a Texas cowboy?” he asked, his voice teasing.

“Oddly enough, no. I already have to put up with you calling me ‘little lady’ every couple of days. I don’t need to add the smell of cow manure to the equation. You’re a good ol’ boy, Cal. That’s plenty. Oh, this should be the street. The address is 2123. There it is, on the left.”

He parked their rental car and turned off the engine, but made no effort to get out. For a moment he could only stare at the small house.

The walkway was cracked and overgrown with weeds. Any grass had long since died. There were missing panes in the windows, and those remaining were too filthy to see through. The screen door hung on the top hinge only.

“This can’t be right,” he muttered. “Jack said Anastasia’s adoptive parents were middle class. Not rich, but nothing like this.”

“These aren’t her parents,” Sabrina reminded him. “The woman she lives with is an aunt, maybe not even that closely related. Jack wasn’t sure.”

“My daughter can’t live here,” he said, then swore. “How could my parents have let this happen?”

“You’re going to fix it. That’s what matters, Cal. You came as soon as you found out about her.”

Her. My daughter. The words were spoken, but they had no meaning. On the other side of that door was a child he’d never known about. A flesh-and-blood person with hopes, dreams and feelings. What was she going to say when she saw him?

He pushed away the question because he didn’t have an answer, then got out of the car. Sabrina did the same and came around to his side.

He gave her a brief smile. “Thanks for coming with me. I would have hated to do this alone.”

“No problem. I’m happy to help.” For once she didn’t tease and he was glad.

He studied her, the short, layered red hair, the familiar face, the concerned expression. She wore tailored khaki slacks and a cream blouse. As always she was sensible and in control. He admired those qualities in Sabrina, and right now, he was depending on them.

He nodded toward the house. “Let’s go.”

He led the way to the front door and knocked. There was nearly a minute of silence that left Cal wondering if they had the wrong place or if no one was home. Then the door opened. A woman in her late fifties or early sixties stared up at him.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice throaty and her tone annoyed. “I ain’t gonna buy anything, so don’t bother trying to sell me whatever you’ve got.”

“Mrs. Sellis?” Cal inquired politely. “I’m Cal Langtry. I believe my attorney spoke to you on the phone. I’m here about my daughter.”

The woman was small, not much over five feet, and very thin. Her clothes were worn and stained. Gray streaks highlighted her short, dark hair. She looked Cal up and down, then grinned, exposing yellowed teeth and three empty spaces.

“So you decided you wanted the brat, did you? I can’t figure out why, but you’ll save me the trouble of filling out paperwork, so that’s something. You’d best come in.”

She held open the screen door. Cal led the way inside. The living room was small and dark, with tattered drapes hanging over the dirty windows. Pizza cartons and empty potato chip bags littered the floor. The center of the sofa looked as if it had been hit by a bomb, with springs poking up through a large hole in the dark brown tweed fabric and bits of stuffing burping out onto the other cushions.

The woman shuffled to a rocking chair in front of a new television and sat down. The tray table next to her contained a pack of cigarettes and an overflowing ashtray. She took a cigarette and lit it, then inhaled.

“You’re early,” she said. “We wasn’t expecting you until the end of the week.”

Cal glanced at Sabrina. Mrs. Sellis hadn’t invited them to sit down, and neither of them made a move to settle on their own. For one thing, the couch looked filthy and uncomfortable. For another, he wanted to bolt.

“I finished my business more quickly than I expected,” he said. “Is Anastasia here?”

“Of course she’s here. Where else would the girl be? She’s twelve. I don’t let her run around on her own. She might not be blood kin, but I’ve done good by her. She’s had a place to stay and food to eat. There are some who wouldn’t have been so kind.”

Sabrina touched his arm. He knew what she was trying to tell him—that this woman had probably done the best she could. Maybe it wasn’t her fault she lived in such a poor house. Of course, she could have bothered with picking up the trash at least.

Mrs. Sellis took a deep puff on her cigarette and coughed. When she’d caught her breath, she yelled, “Anastasia, get your stuff and get on out here, girl.” She turned her attention back to Cal. “She’ll be right along. Did you bring the check?”

Cal stared at her. “What check?”

“Figures.” She stubbed out the cigarette. “I’m not handing the girl over to the likes of you for free, you know. Her fool parents up and died without a penny to their names. Her daddy had just changed jobs, so there weren’t any life insurance yet. I took the girl in because I’m family—” She frowned. “After a fact. They did adopt her. Well, I did the right thing and it’s been nearly a year. I get a little something from social security, but it’s not enough.”

Mrs. Sellis pushed herself to her feet. “She’s nothing but a trial, I don’t mind telling you that. Sassy mouth on her, always talking back. She won’t do her schoolwork. Grades falling, getting in trouble at school. She ran away a couple of times.” The woman glanced around her living room. “From here, if you can believe it.”

“Mrs. Sellis, the social security check would have adequately provided for Anastasia’s needs,” Sabrina said quietly. “Mr. Langtry’s attorney didn’t mention that any reimbursement sum had been discussed.”

Cal recognized Sabrina’s tactic instantly. They were going to play good cop, bad cop. He wanted to protest that he usually got to be the bad cop, but in this case, it was probably better that he come off as the good guy. After all, his daughter might be eavesdropping on the conversation.

Suddenly reminded of the girl’s presence in the house, he glanced around the small room. To the left was a tiny kitchen with an even smaller eating area. To the right was a single door. It would lead to a hallway, he thought, or maybe just to the only bedroom in the house. Again he was stunned that his child had been living under these circumstances. If only he’d known sooner.

“You his wife?” the woman asked.

“No, Mr. Langtry’s personal assistant.”

Mrs. Sellis cackled. “Is that what they call it these days. Oh, my. An assistant.”

Cal’s temper flared. “Name your amount. I will be happy to write you a check. In return you’ll sign a paper saying you never want to have anything to do with the girl again.”

“Well, that’s the truth, I’ll tell you. If I never see her again, it’ll be too soon. That one’s nothing but trouble.” Her dark eyes glittered. “Of course, she’s your own flesh and blood and that should make a difference.”

The anger increased. He didn’t like this woman. At first, he had felt some compassion for her circumstances, but now he didn’t give a damn. “I would like to see my daughter.”

“I know, I know. Anastasia, get out here, girl. I mean now!” She turned from the door. “What kind of a name is that, I ask you. Anastasia. Like she’s someone important, instead of a skinny brat with a nose for trouble.”

The door opened. Cal stared, his heart pounding as he waited to catch his first glimpse of his daughter. Someone stepped into the room. A young preteen, caught in that awkward stage between childhood and physical maturity.

She was about five foot five or six, just a little shorter than Sabrina, with large dark eyes hidden behind glasses. Her hair hung to the middle of her back. He registered those facts before getting caught up in horror at how painfully thin she was. Her too-small, worn T-shirt clung to her, exposing her bony shoulders and rib cage. Her cheeks were sunken and her mouth pinched. Jeans hung off her hips.

There was dirt on her face and hands, and her hair was greasy. He couldn’t tell if she was pretty or not. He couldn’t do anything but stare in shock.

“What the hell have you been doing to her?” Cal demanded in a roar. “There are laws against this kind of neglect.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “I’m not going to the state home,” she shrieked. “I’ll run away and you’ll never find me! I swear, I’ll die first.”

She made a quick move as if to run out the door. Cal stepped forward to block her. “You’re not going to the state home,” he said quickly. “I’m not from the government. I’m your father.”

He said the words without thinking, then the meaning sank in. Her father. This was his child. Not at all what he’d pictured, but no less his.

Sabrina felt as if she were caught up in a movie. Everyone was reacting to a script, but she didn’t have a copy of today’s dialogue. She stared at the girl standing—shaking—in front of them and her heart went out to the child. What terrible pain had she endured in the past year? No wonder she’d been a discipline problem. From the looks of things, Mrs. Sellis wasn’t overflowing with compassion and concern.

The girl watched Cal warily, as if deciding whether or not to trust him. He took another step toward her. Sabrina wanted to warn him to take things slowly. After all, if she was having this much trouble absorbing what was happening, Anastasia would be suffering with the same problem.

But she couldn’t get it together enough to speak. She was too stunned by Anastasia’s appearance and this tiny house that smelled of neglect and poverty.

Cal reached out to touch his daughter’s cheek. She spun away and glared at him. “You’re not my father,” she spat. “You’re just the bastard who knocked up my mother. Go to hell.”

With that, she raced for the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Sabrina flinched at the sound. Cal looked as if he’d been sucker punched. Only Mrs. Sellis didn’t react.

“I told you she was difficult. So, about the check. I think eight thousand ought to cover it.”

“If you think—” Cal began, then visibly took control of himself.

“Excuse us,” Sabrina said, then moved close to him, took his arm and pulled him into the kitchen. “Cal, look at me.”

“That woman,” he growled. “She’s been starving her. That kid hasn’t eaten in days. Longer. Don’t try to tell me she’s got an eating disorder. This isn’t about trying to be thin enough. We’re talking about neglect and possibly emotional abuse. I can’t believe—”

He stopped talking and ran his hand through his hair. “Dammit, Sabrina, did you hear what my own kid said to me?”

“I know, but you can’t take it personally. She’s scared. She doesn’t know you from a rock, and here you are, ready to take her away.”

“Anything would be better than this place.”

“She doesn’t know that. This is all she knows right now. Okay, it’s horrible and she hates it, but at least it’s familiar.” She gazed at her boss. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to get my kid out of here.”

She thought for a moment. “Why don’t you talk with Mrs. Sellis and I’ll collect Anastasia. I think I’m less of an emotional button for her right now. As far as how she was treated, you can call Jack when we’re in Houston and let him take care of it.”

Cal swore, then pulled Sabrina close and rested his chin on her head. “Thanks. I wouldn’t be able to get through this without you. I’d want to tear that old lady apart, limb by limb.”

Sabrina ignored the fluttering in her chest and the heat from Cal’s body. “You wouldn’t like prison, Cal. I don’t think you’d do well there.”

“Probably not.” He took a step back, then shrugged. “She’s going to come around, isn’t she?”

She knew he meant his daughter. “She’s been through a lot and it’s going to take some time, but sure, she’ll come around. You’re going to be a great dad.”

She spoke with more confidence than she felt. While she didn’t doubt Cal’s abilities, she was concerned about Anastasia. She’d suffered tremendously, and she’d had to do it alone. That kind of experience could leave a person scarred for life.

She and Cal went back into the living room. Mrs. Sellis watched them, her dark eyes glowing with greed. Sabrina ignored her and crossed to the closed door. She hesitated, almost afraid of what she would find on the other side, then drew a breath and turned the handle.

The bedroom was tiny, dark and even more dirty than the living room. Sabrina didn’t want to think about what might be living under the bed. Clothes were scattered all over. There were dirty plates, glasses, torn magazines and dirt everywhere. Anastasia lay curled up on the bed, with her back to the door. Her shoulders shook, but she didn’t make a sound.

Sabrina stared at her and tried to decide the best way to handle the situation. Her instinct was to offer the girl comfort, but her gut told her that was wrong. Right now Anastasia was scared and angry. Compassion would be viewed as weakness. She decided to go for logic.

“Boy, were you stupid,” she said, her tone conversational.

That got the hoped-for response. The girl stopped crying.

“Talk about blowing a perfect setup. Look at this place. It’s disgusting. I know you hate it here.”

“No, I don’t” came the defiant response.

“Oh, so that’s why you ran away a couple of times. And now this basically nice guy shows up, a guy who is, by the way, your father. He just found out about you and he wants to take care of you. Instead of saying thanks or even hi, you call him a bastard and run out of the room. Like I said, not really bright. I guess you want to go to that state home, huh?”

Anastasia rolled over and glared at her. “No, I don’t. I won’t go there. I swear, I’ll die first.”

Sabrina shrugged. “You want to stay with Mrs. Sellis?”

Anastasia wiped the tears from her face. The moisture smeared the dirt there. “She hates me. She only wants the money the government sends.” Full lips trembled. “I want to go home.”

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