Pregnant.

Elena got pregnant.

He couldn’t believe it. She’d been on the pill. They’d used condoms faithfully.

He knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t be saying he was the father if it wasn’t true.

A baby. She was having his baby. Rogan felt something like wonder.

He also felt a slow anger, like hot coals burning red beneath a layer of ash. All those times he’d almost called her—but stopped himself before he actually went through with it. He should have called her. Maybe if he had, she would have busted to the truth before now.

Maybe if he had, he wouldn’t be racing against the clock to have a prayer of being there when his own child was born.

Dear Reader,

Elena Cabrera, illegitimate daughter of Bravo family patriarch Davis Bravo is ready for love. Builder Rogan Murdoch is ready for his freedom. Finally.

Rogan’s parents died tragically when he was barely an adult and not only did he take over the family business, Murdoch Homes, but he also became guardian and stand-in parent to his three younger siblings. It hasn’t been an easy time. But he and his family made it through. Now, the last of his charges, his baby sister, is off to college in the fall. And he’s looking forward to being footloose at last.

But then he meets Elena. The attraction is instant. And powerful. But he knows she’s not the kind of woman who’ll go for a casual affair. And that’s all he’s ready for right now.

He should stay away from her. Far, far away.

But somehow, fate keeps throwing them together. And every time he sees her, it’s harder for him to resist her—let alone remember all the reasons he needs to be free.

Happy reading everyone,

Christine Rimmer

Marriage, Bravo Style!
Christine Rimmer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHRISTINE RIMMER

came to her profession the long way around. Before settling down to write about the magic of romance, she’d been everything from an actress to a salesclerk to a waitress. Now that she’s finally found work that suits her perfectly, she insists she never had a problem keeping a job—she was merely gaining “life experience” for her future as a novelist. Christine is grateful not only for the joy she finds in writing, but for what waits when the day’s work is through: a man she loves, who loves her right back, and the privilege of watching their children grow and change day to day. She lives with her family in Oklahoma. Visit Christine at www.christinerimmer.com.

To our families.

They drive us crazy and teach us what life is all about.

Contents

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

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter One

“Elena, I don’t know how to say this…”

“Say what?” Carefully, so not too much filling would spill out, Elena Cabrera lifted a taco off her plate.

“I’ve met someone else.”

Elena had her mouth wide open to take a bite. Instead, she eased the taco back down to the plate. Then she put her hands in her lap and stared across the cozy corner table at totally hunky Antonio Aguilar.

So much for going on the pill, she thought.

They’d been dating for two months now. She’d started on the pill two weeks ago. Because she’d been really, really hoping that Tonio would be the one.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Elena.” His dark-chocolate eyes were full of regret. “I don’t know why we never really clicked….”

Clicked. They hadn’t clicked. Was that the problem?

Something was. She was twenty-five years old and still a virgin.

Nothing against being a virgin, per se. Until not all that long ago, being a virgin had been her choice. Men had made advances. She’d turned down every one.

After all, she was a woman of principle. She’d been saving herself for true love. Seriously. True, forever love. Like her sister, Mercy, had with Luke.

Like her parents had.

Or like she’d always thought they had.

But then, three years ago, she’d learned that her darling Papi wasn’t her biological father, after all. Her father’s sworn enemy, Davis Bravo, was. Her mom had been lying to her dad for all these years, letting him believe that Elena was his. Letting Elena believe it, too.

Needless to say, her dad and her mom weren’t together anymore.

So much for true, forever love.

“Elena.” Tonio leaned toward her across his untouched plate. He looked more than a little annoyed. “Have you heard a single word I said?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s not working out. You’ve found someone else.”

“This is pretty much the whole problem. You know that, don’t you?”

“This?”

“This.” He said a bad word in Spanish under his breath and made a sweeping gesture with his lean brown hand, his sculpted cheekbones flushed with color. He was definitely not happy with her. “You.”

“Me.”

“You. Elena, when we’re together, you act like you’re a thousand miles away.” He pushed his plate toward the center of the table with a look of pure disdain. “And now I’ve met Tappy, well, there’s no comparison. Tappy adores me. A man needs that, to know that his woman is there for him, that he has her absolute undivided attention when he speaks.”

“Wait a minute. Tappy. Her name is Tappy?”

He made a hissing sound between his gorgeous white teeth, and looked away. “Now you make fun of her name. A woman cares for me. Really cares. And you make fun of her name.” More Spanish swear words ensued.

“Tonio. Come on…” Now she felt guilty—which made no sense. He was breaking up with her. And she felt guilty…?

“No.” He showed her the palm of his hand. “It’s enough. I don’t know why I was so worried about telling you. It’s not as if you care.”

“Tonio, please…”

“It’s over. Finished.”

“Well, I know that. You said that. But couldn’t we at least—?”

“Stop.” He took out his wallet, threw some bills on the table. “You never respected me. You never wanted me.” He swept to his feet. “Well, I have a real woman now. Goodbye, Elena.”

And with a scornful toss of his proud dark head, he was gone.

Elena didn’t watch him go. She picked up the taco again and finished her lunch, her gaze studiously on her plate. If people were staring, she didn’t want to know. The whole situation was embarrassing enough as it was.

Not only had she lost Antonio, she didn’t feel all that bad about it.

Was there something wrong with her? Sometimes she really did wonder.

Her cell rang as she stood at the cash register paying the check. It was her sister.

Mercy said, “Hey.”

Elena signaled to the hostess that the five dollars in change should go to the waiter and smiled at the sound of her sister’s voice. “Hey.” She turned for the glass doors that led to the parking lot.

“Did you hear?” Mercy asked. “Dad thinks he’s found a buyer for the company.” Their father was a builder. He owned and ran Cabrera Construction. Lately, he’d been making noises that he wanted to retire. Mercy added, “Some friend of Caleb’s, I think.”

Caleb was one of Davis Bravo’s seven sons, and thus Elena’s half brother. He was also Mercy’s brother-in-law, since Mercy’s husband, Luke, was another of Davis’s sons.

Family connections. Truly convoluted, at least when it came to the Bravos and the Cabreras. It wasn’t quite as creepy as it might sound, though. Mercy, unlike Elena, was not related by blood to the Bravos—or the Cabreras, for that matter. Mercy had been adopted into the Cabrera family when she was twelve.

Elena reached her car and pulled open the door. “I remember now. Caleb mentioned that some guy he knows in Dallas—Logan somebody-or-other?—might be interested.” In the past few years, after the big revelation concerning Elena’s true parentage, Elena and Caleb had become not only newfound siblings, but close friends, as well.

“Not Logan,” said Mercy. “Rogan. Rogan Murdoch.”

“Rogan. Right.” Elena slid in behind the wheel and started the engine to get the air-conditioning going. April in San Antonio could be as hot as August in other places. “Caleb said the guy runs his family’s company.”

“Murdoch Homes,” Mercy confirmed. “And he wants to expand. He showed up yesterday. And he’s with Dad now….”

“With Dad at the office?”

“That’s what Papi said when I called.”

Elena readjusted the vent so the cold air blasted into her face. It felt good. “You think I should go over there? Check the guy out?”

Mercy laughed. “I would do it myself, but I have a sick heifer to treat.” Mercy was a large-animal vet. “And then I have to get home to take Lucas to Mommy and Me.” Lucas was her two-year-old. And she was two months pregnant with her and Luke’s second baby.

True love, a toddler and a baby on the way. Mercy had it all. Elena adored her big sister. Otherwise, she would be green with envy.

“I’ll take care of it.” She bent closer to the vent so the cool air flowed down the front of her shirt. “It’s Good Friday. What else have I got to do?” Elena taught middle-school social studies. Good Friday was a school holiday.

“You sure? I thought you mentioned something about lunch with Antonio….”

“Oh.” Elena slumped back in the seat and stared glumly out the windshield. “That.”

Mercy made a low, sympathetic sound. “What happened?”

“I just got dumped over fish tacos.”

“No.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you all right?”

“Sadly, yes. I’m just fine.”

“Oh, chica…”

“Tonio’s found someone else.”

“That bastard.”

“Her name is Tappy.”

“Tappy?”

“It’s what I said—and I can hear you laughing.”

“Tappy?”

“Stop it, Mercedes.” But Mercy didn’t stop. And then Elena was laughing, too.

Finally, Mercy pulled herself together enough to remark philosophically, “Well, at least your heart isn’t broken over this.”

“Yeah. It’s really depressing.”

“Elena.” Her sister’s voice was gentle, soothing. “There’s someone out there for you. I know there is.”

“Keep talking. I’m twenty-five. I’ve never been in love—not that I’m feeling sorry for myself or anything.”

“What’s this never? What about Roberto Pena?”

“That was high school. It’s been a decade, in case you didn’t notice.”

“It will happen. You’ll see.”

Enough of the pity party. Elena sat forward again and reached for the ignition key. “Gotta go. Got to check out this Rogan character, make sure Papi knows what he’s doing.”

“Hit me back. Let me know what you think of him.”

Cabrera Construction took up half a block in a street of auto repair shops and contractor supply outlets. Years and years ago, the place had been a used car lot, so it had plenty of parking surrounding the flat-roofed central structure, which was the former showroom. It had big windows in front and a giant reception area, with a warren of hallways and office space in back. Behind the main building, there was more parking and also four large sheds where Elena’s dad stored equipment and building supplies that weren’t currently needed on a job.

Elena pulled in next to her dad’s giant shiny red extended cab. There were three other vehicles parked in the same row. One was her dad’s secretary’s car. One belonged to another Cabrera Construction employee.

There was also a Mercedes she’d never seen before. It was low and lean and fast-looking. A beautiful silver bullet of a car.

As she entered the building that her dad had owned for almost twenty years now, she thought how sad it was that he might actually sell out. She had memories here. Family memories. From back when her mom and dad were still together and so much in love it was kind of embarrassing.

If she closed her eyes and listened real hard, she could almost hear her own happy laughter as she and Mercy played tag or hide-and-seek.

“Tag, you’re it!” Mercy would crow in big-sister triumph.

“No fair!” Elena would whine.

“Is so!”

“Papi, Mercy cheated….”

“Don’t be such a baby.” Mercy would stick out her tongue. “Did not.”

“Did so!”

Elena opened her eyes. The memory of young voices receded. Yes, it was sad to think of someone else running the place, someone else’s children playing tag in the reception area.

But then again, neither of Javier Cabrera’s daughters had shown any interest in following in his footsteps. Elena was a teacher, Mercy a vet. And there was no son. Her dad was close to sixty and he often complained that he was tired, ready to relax a little, maybe travel some, see the world.

If this thing with Caleb’s friend panned out, her dad might get his chance for freedom. Too bad he no longer had her mom to share his retirement with.

He really ought to get out more, Elena thought. He ought to try and meet someone. But he never did. He and her mom were over and done with. But they were true Catholics. They might be apart with no hope for a reconciliation, but there would be no one else for either of them.

Really, it was kind of heartbreaking.

But she shouldn’t think like that. Maybe they would surprise her, and each of them would end up happy with someone else.

It could happen. Lately, even though she dreaded the thought of dealing with a stepmother or stepfather, she found herself wishing for one. Hadn’t her parents suffered enough? Elena thought so. They both ought to just move on….

“Elena.” Marcella, who had been her dad’s secretary for as long as Elena could remember, smiled a greeting from behind the front desk.

“Hi. Is my dad in back?”

The secretary nodded and then tipped her big head of red hair toward the hallway that led to Javier’s private office and the drafting room. She pitched her voice low. “He’s with the buyer.” The buyer. So was the sale already made, then? “Is it all right if I go back, you think?”

Marcella shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

Elena hesitated. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt anything important. What if they’re in the middle of delicate negotiations?” And then she heard voices—her dad’s and another man’s.

Marcella smiled again. “No problem. They’re coming out, anyway.”

“Elena,” her dad said a moment later as he and another taller, younger man emerged from the hallway to the back rooms. Her dad gave her a warm, tired-looking smile.

They’d come a long way from those first awful days when he’d learned that she wasn’t his natural daughter. There had been a time when he could hardly bear to look at her. He’d hated himself for that. But she’d never held it against him. She’d understood his pain. After all, she had lived through that same pain herself.

And slowly, they’d become what they really were again. Father and daughter, blood tie or not.

She went to him and he wrapped his strong arms around her. He smelled of everything safe and good in the world, like Old Spice aftershave and geraniums in the sun. “Papi,” she whispered. “I just thought I’d stop by.”

“I’m glad.” He released her. She gazed up at him, thinking he looked so old, all of a sudden. The crow’s feet at the corners of his black eyes were etched so deep they seemed to make his whole face droop. Her dear Papi. Old. When had that happened? “Elena, this is Rogan Murdoch.”

She turned to the other man, her gaze tracking up his broad, deep chest to a very Irish-looking face with green eyes and straight brows, full lips, a square jaw and a strong nose that looked like it had been broken at least once. He wasn’t handsome, exactly. But he was certainly compelling. And very…male.

He smiled at her and took her hand. “Elena,” he said, as if he knew her already. As if he’d only been waiting for her to show up. Her throat felt dry. She gulped. Words completely eluded her. “Caleb’s mentioned you often.” His large, warm hand engulfed hers. She couldn’t breathe—or more precisely, she wasn’t breathing. She had to consciously suck in a breath and push it back out again. “We’re just going to lunch,” he said. “Why don’t you join us?”

She eased her hand free of his. It seemed safer, somehow, not to be touching him. At the same time, she had the presence of mind to glance down, to check out his other hand.

He had thick, strong fingers. And he wore no wedding band.

She managed weakly, “I already ate, thanks.”

“Come with us, anyway,” her dad said from behind her. “Have a cold drink, maybe a piece of pie.”

“Well, I…”

“Yeah. Please,” Rogan said, in his deep, rich, slightly rough voice that sent a lovely shiver racing under the surface of her skin. “Join us.”

She couldn’t have said no if her life had depended on it.

Chapter Two

At lunch, Rogan sat across from Javier and his daughter. The restaurant was on the River Walk. They had a table out on the patio overlooking the water and the tour boats gliding past.

But the best view was across the table from Rogan. He tried not to stare.

The Cabrera girl was beautiful. Too beautiful. Mess-with-a-man’s-head beautiful.

She had thick coffee-colored hair that fell around her slim shoulders in soft waves, hair shot through with strands of red and gold. It was the kind of hair that made a man’s fingers itch to touch it. And beyond all that amazing hair, she had golden brown eyes and a mouth made for kissing.

And her skin. Soft. Velvety. Golden as the rest of her. Somehow, he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes off that dimple that appeared at the corner of her mouth when she smiled.

Rogan was not a poetic man. But when he looked at Elena Cabrera, he heard poems in his head.

It was an acute case of lust at first sight.

And lust was fine. Lust was great. With somebody other than Javier Cabrera’s daughter. Somebody who didn’t happen to be Caleb Bravo’s adored half sister.

Rogan could tell just by looking at her that she wasn’t going to be interested in a simple, mutually satisfying hookup. She would want at least the potential for a serious romance. Marriage would have to be a possibility.

And it wasn’t. Not for Rogan. Not for years yet.

He saw freedom in his immediate future and he intended to enjoy it.

Javier said, “I understand that you and Caleb went to school together?”

Rogan smiled at the older man. Time to trot out the family history, clarify the personal connections. “Yes, we did. UT in Austin. He introduced me to Victor Lukovic. Victor had come to the U.S. on a football scholarship. Now he plays football for the Dallas Cowboys. We hung out together for a while, the three of us—Caleb, Victor and me.”

Elena told her father, “Victor and Caleb’s wife, Irina, were raised together in Argovia—it’s a small country in the Balkans, on the Adriatic Sea.”

“Ah,” said Javier. “That’s right. I remember now.” He glanced across at Rogan again. “Caleb gave Irina a job as his housekeeper, so she could get a permit to work in the U.S. They fell in love and married.”

“That’s right.”

“And Victor is a linebacker. They call him the Balkan Bear.”

“The one and only,” Rogan said. “Since he and his family live in the Dallas area, we get together often.”

“So you all three graduated from UT the same year?”

“No. Caleb was a year ahead of Victor and me. And I left in my junior year, so I never did get my degree.”

Javier frowned. “What happened that you didn’t graduate?”

“My parents were killed in a freak boating accident. I went home and took over the family business.”

Javier’s daughter made a soft sound of distress. “Oh, Rogan. How awful for you….”

“How old were you?” Javier asked.

“Twenty-one.”

“So young to be in charge of your own company…”

He shook his head. “The death of my parents, that was bad. They should have had years and years ahead of them. But taking over the business? It was no hardship. It was something I wanted to do. I’d been working with my dad every summer for years before he died. I knew the business. And my plan had always been to go in with my dad eventually, to take over when he was ready to retire.”

“I lost my father when I was twenty,” said Javier. The dark circles under his eyes gave him a haunted look just then. “It’s not a good thing, for a man to lose the steadying hand of a father too soon. It can make him…bitter. Impatient. Angry.”

Rogan met Javier’s eyes without flinching. “I managed. I got through it. I don’t think I’m bitter.”

Javier shook his head and muttered regretfully, “I spoke of myself, not of you.”

“Ah,” Rogan said, and left it at that.

Elena was looking at her father now. “Papi,” she said softly, and touched his shoulder, a consoling sort of touch.

Javier gave her a gentle smile. And then he spoke to Rogan again. “And didn’t you tell me you had brothers and a sister?”

“Cormac and Niall are twenty-four and twenty-three respectively. Cormac works with me. We’re partners. I run the jobs. He runs the finances and acts as my second on-site when necessary. Niall is in law school. My baby sister, Brenda, is eighteen and headed off to college back east in the fall.”

“They’re all doing well, then?”

“Yes, they are.”

“Who cared for them, when you lost your mother and father?”

“I did.”

The older man regarded him for several long seconds. At last, he nodded. “You are an admirable man.”

Rogan didn’t feel all that admirable. “I did what I had to do.”

“No,” said Javier. “You did the right thing at a difficult time. In the end, family is what matters. And you thought of your family when many would have only cared for themselves. I respect that, greatly. I wish…” He looked away.

Elena leaned toward her father. Rogan thought she would say something to the older man—something comforting, maybe. But then she only put her hand on his arm.

Javier patted her hand and gave her another of those gentle smiles.

The waiter came with their food. After that, they spoke mostly of the various projects Javier’s company had in the works and of how both men viewed the transition should they reach an agreement.

Elena didn’t say much through the meal. She sipped the iced tea she’d ordered and laughed a couple of times, once at a wry joke Javier made, once at some remark of Rogan’s. Her laughter was low and rich. It sent a thrill through him, a kind of vibration that brought with it a feeling of promise.

Of anticipation.

As a rule, Rogan was a strictly disciplined man. He’d had to be, after his parents were gone. He made decisions and he stuck by them.

He’d made a decision about Elena the first moment he saw her: hands off. But when she laughed in that way of hers and when that dimple tucked itself in so temptingly beside her full mouth, well, he didn’t feel all that disciplined. He felt he stood on the brink of something heady and fine.

And all he wanted was a little shove, just enough to give himself permission to jump.

“Well?” Mercy said without even a hello. “You didn’t call me back.”

It was after five and Elena was at home, in her office at her condo, grading papers. She tucked the phone against her shoulder and set down her red marker. “You said you had Mommy and Me.”

“That was then. We got home two hours ago. But anyway. What did you think of Rogan Murdoch?”

“I liked him. There’s something…solid about him. And I think Dad likes him a lot.”

“But is Dad actually going to sell to him?”

“Nothing was said either way while I was with them—but yeah, that’s the feeling I get.”

“Wow.” Mercy made a low, disbelieving sound. “Really?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Dad. Retired. It’s hard to imagine.” Mercy’s voice held a note of sadness. “And I can’t quite get my mind around the idea of Cabrera Construction belonging to someone else. I mean, sometimes it seems as though our past, together, as a family…it’s just slowly fading away.”

Elena knew exactly what her sister was talking about. “I hear you. It’s depressing. But still. I can see it happening, see Dad selling, now I’ve met Rogan.”

“So what’s he look like?”

“Big. Irish.” Elena stared into the middle distance, conjuring up the sight of him. “He has these beautiful green eyes. Irish eyes, you know? Like that old song…”

Mercy chuckled. “You really liked him.”

She might play coy with someone else. But never with Mercy. “Yeah. I really did.”

“Did he ask you out?”

I wish. “Oh, come on. I just met him.”

“Well. Did he like you, too?”

If you can’t tell the truth to your own sister, who can you tell it to? Plus, Mercy wouldn’t say a word to anyone else. When it came to romance, the two of them had a longstanding vow to keep each other’s confidences. “I think he did like me. Yeah.”

“Come to dinner at the ranch Sunday,” Mercy said—out of nowhere, it seemed to Elena. By “the ranch,” Mercy meant the Bravo family ranch, Bravo Ridge, which was a little ways out of town going north, on the southern edge of the Hill Country. Once Bravo Ridge had belonged to the Cabreras. But back in the 1950s, James Bravo had won it off Emilio Cabrera in a horse race, setting off decades of feuding between the families.

The feud was over now.

More or less.

And Mercy, Luke and little Lucas lived at Bravo Ridge together. Luke ran the place. And just about every Sunday they had a big family dinner there. Davis Bravo—who was the oldest son of James—and his wife, Aleta, had had nine children. The siblings and their families tried to show up for Sunday dinner at the ranch at least every couple of months or so.

“Now, there’s my idea of a great time,” Elena said wryly. “Easter Sunday dinner with the sperm donor and family.”

“You’ve got to quit calling him that,” Mercy chided.

Elena laughed. “I always call him that. And you always tell me I have to stop.”

“You need to make peace with him.”

“Mercy, I don’t care if you are my big sister. Don’t lecture me, okay?”

“He is your father.”

“Papi is my father. And can we not have this argument again, please?”

“You’ve forgiven Mom,” Mercy prodded reproachfully. Lately, she was getting like a dog with a favorite bone on this subject. She just wouldn’t let go. “And think about it…”

“I’d rather not.”

Mercy kept after her anyway. “Mami did worse than Davis. Davis confessed to Aleta that he’d had an affair. And he never even knew you were his daughter for all those years. Why can’t you forgive him?”

“Mom is…my mother.”

“And Davis is—”

“Uh-uh. Don’t say it again. Just let it be. I mean it. Please?”

Mercy drew in an audible breath and blew it out hard. “All right. I’m done. At least for now—but say you’ll come to Sunday dinner.”

With waning patience, Elena reminded her, “I thought you just said you were done.”

“I am. I’m not asking you to come for Davis’s sake. I’m asking because Caleb and Irina are coming. And Mr. Irish Eyes is staying with them….”

Rogan was staying with Caleb and Irina.

And he would be at the ranch on Sunday.

Elena’s heart rate accelerated and she felt slightly breathless.

Stunned, she put a hand against her chest. How lovely, to simply think of a certain man and get that rising feeling inside.

At last.

She asked, sounding as breathless as she felt, “He’s coming to dinner Sunday? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Mercy chuckled. “You didn’t give me a chance. You started right in about Davis. So. You’ll come?”

Elena considered the pros and cons. Getting to see Rogan again versus having to be around the sperm donor. It took her about half a second to make her choice. “Fine. I’m there.”

She’d barely hung up from talking to Mercy when Caleb called.

Her favorite brother asked, “How about dinner tomorrow night, at my house?”

Her heart was getting a workout. Now, it did a happy dance. Rogan was staying with Caleb, so he would most likely be there for dinner tomorrow.

Another chance to see him. She grinned like an idiot. Why shouldn’t she grin? No one was watching. “Love to,” she said.

“You’re so easy,” Caleb teased.

“Well, I do like your wife a lot. And I’m willing to put up with you.”

“I was afraid you maybe had a date with Antonio.”

“Uh, no. Antonio and I have decided to…move on.”

Caleb was a salesman by nature and by trade, the top producer at BravoCorp, the family company. He usually knew just the right thing to say. This situation was no exception. He went directly to the assumption that it must have been Elena who had done the dumping. “Poor guy. I hope you let him down easy.”

“I think he’s going to survive the breakup,” she said wryly.

Gently, her brother asked, “And you?”

“Antonio? Never heard of him.”

“That’s the spirit.”

“So about tomorrow night. Will it just be the three of us?” To her brother, she was giving nothing away. Not at this point, anyway. She would trust Caleb with her life. But this attraction to Rogan, well, it was too new to go broadcasting it to the whole family.

Caleb told her what she’d been longing to hear. “Rogan will be here, too. He’s staying with us. You know, your dad’s potential buyer? He says he met you today.”

“Oh, yes. Rogan,” she replied in a purposely neutral tone. Did he say anything about me? she longed to ask. But she didn’t. “I liked him.”

“He liked you, too. He says you’re charming. And gorgeous.”

Her pulse sped up again and her heart seemed to expand inside her chest, a sensation that somehow contained equal parts pain and pleasure. “Those Irish. Always with the flattery.”

“Well, you are charming and gorgeous.”

“I love absolute loyalty in a brother.”

“I told him he was allowed to ask you out. But he’d better treat you right or he’d be dealing with me.”

She groaned. “Oh, God. Caleb, you didn’t.”

He laughed. “Okay, I didn’t. I only thought it.”

She let out a relieved breath. “All right,” she muttered grudgingly. “You get to live. What time tomorrow night?”

“Seven?”

“See you then.” She hung up in a very cool and collected manner.

And then she let out a whoop of excitement, jumped to her feet and set off at a wild run around the condo, from her office, to her bedroom, back down the hall, around the living room, dining room and kitchen area. She stopped at the counter by the sink, got down a glass, went to the water cooler and poured herself a drink, which she drained in one gulp, plunking the glass down hard when it was empty.

“Yes!” she shouted, loud and proud, not even caring that she was acting more like a preteen at a Jonas Brothers concert than a grown woman with a real job and a home of her own.

Rogan Murdoch thought she was charming and gorgeous.

And she would be seeing him tomorrow night—and Sunday, as well.

But first, there was lunch with her mother Saturday afternoon.

A year ago, Luz Cabrera had sold the beautiful Spanish-style house that Javier had built for the family. She’d moved into a smaller place near the office where she worked as a Realtor.

“What do I need with all this space?” she’d asked when she’d put the family home on the market. “It echoes of the life we knew, all of us, our family, together. That life is over. It’s time I moved on.”

They had lunch at the new house, out on the patio in the shade of a Mexican live oak. The house backed onto a golf course, so the view was of rolling greens and winding golf paths.

After the meal, they sat for a while, drinking iced tea, enjoying the welcome breeze.

Luz gathered her long dark hair off her neck and twisted it into a knot at the back of her head with a sigh. Elena studied her profile. Luz was fifty-two but looked younger. The last few years of heartache had aged her, though. The line of her jaw wasn’t as firm as it had been. Her hair was still dark and vibrant as ever. But then, she had a great hairdresser who was genius with color.

Luz said, “I talked to your father last night. He wanted to tell me that he plans to sell the business to Caleb’s friend.”

Elena reached across the table and touched her mother’s slim hand. “Does that upset you?”

Luz’s dark brows drew together as she considered the question. Then she shook her head. “It’s like the house, I think. Time to let it go.” She eased her hand from under Elena’s and clasped Elena’s fingers. A quick, warm squeeze. “I think there is peace between us, at last.”

“You and Dad?”

“Uh-huh. Did you know he went to counseling?”

That was a surprise. “No. He told you that?”

Luz nodded. “He said he had been wondering who he really was in all the trouble.”

Elena didn’t get that. “What do you mean, who he was?”

“A wronged husband—or a dangerous and violent man.”

Elena jumped to her dad’s defense. “Papi’s not dangerous. And he’s kind, a good man. You know he is.”

“M’hija.” Her mother’s voice was so gentle. “He hit me the day he found out. Only once, but hard enough to draw blood.”

“I remember.” At the time, she’d been so furious with her mother, she hadn’t really stopped to consider that her father had actually struck her mom. She hadn’t let herself admit how wrong that was. “He shouldn’t have done that,” she muttered, feeling a little ashamed of herself. And then she bit her lip and said no more. Anything else she said right then would probably be out of line.

Luz continued, “And he went after Davis with a gun. Remember that?”

Javier had fired that gun, too. The shot had grazed Aleta Bravo’s arm when she jumped in front of her husband to protect him.

Elena bit her lip again. “Aleta forgave Dad for that. She understood what he was going through.”

“But, m’hija, he needed to forgive himself. He needed to…understand himself better. He needed to face the wrongs he’d done, to make amends, so he could move on. We all need to do that when we hurt other people.”

Elena wasn’t sure what she felt at that moment. Anger, certainly. Yes, her father had done wrong. But her mom was no innocent in the whole thing.

Plus, Elena had become accustomed to the idea that her parents were finished. Yet now, the way her mother was talking, she was starting to wonder if there might be hope for their marriage, after all.

It had hurt so much to let hope go. She didn’t know if she could bear to start hoping again. It was very confusing.

She asked, “So has Dad made amends to you, then?”

“Yes. He apologized to me, for hitting me. And for the more distant past, for the way he drove me away when we were young, for the part he played all those years ago in our early troubles. I accepted his apology. And also he’s been to see Aleta, to make amends with her face-to-face. And with Davis, too.”

Elena saw red. “Dad owes nothing to that man.”

“Javier felt that he did. I agree with him. And your father told me that Davis had a few amends of his own to make, that the two of them had a good talk.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me about this?”

“I’m telling you. Now. And if you ask your father about it, I know he will be relieved to have it out in the open with you.”

“And what about you, Mami?” Elena couldn’t hold the question back. “Don’t you need to make amends?”

Luz leaned back in the patio chair and rested her elbows on the chair arms, linking her hands across her lap. Her engagement diamond caught the light and glittered in a ray of sun that had slipped through the dappled shade of the oak that sheltered them. Luz had never taken off her rings.

“Yes,” Luz said. “I need to make amends. Very much so. And I have done that, to the best of my ability. I have apologized to your father, for my betrayal of our marriage and our love, and for my many lies. I have also done my best to make amends to Aleta Bravo. I have prayed and taken confession and done the penance Father Joseph assigned me. And now, I live every day honestly. I tell the truth and I am straightforward with those I love.” Luz spoke from the heart. Elena started to feel a little guilty for getting on her. But then Luz added, “And you’re angry with me. Mercy said you would be.”

“Mercy?” Fresh irritation made her voice sharp. “You already told her about all this?”

“Yes. She called this morning. We talked about it.”

“Suddenly I feel like the baby of the family again. Always the last to know about everything that happens.”

“Elena, por favor. I’ve told you both. And I only told your sister first because I talked to her before I talked to you.”

Shamed, Elena dropped her gaze. “Sorry. I guess I’m kind of acting like the baby of the family….”

“It’s okay,” her mother said. “I understand. None of this is easy. There is so much pain. It’s a natural thing to want to lash out when we are hurting.”

Elena lifted her head, met her mother’s loving eyes, and asked the big question. “So…does this mean you and Dad are considering getting back together?”

Slowly, Luz shook her head. “No. That part of our marriage is over. We live apart now and we are both accustomed to it. We both have a kind of peace now, of contentment.”

A moment ago, Elena had been angry at the thought that they might reunite. Now, she ached at the idea that they never would. “What kind of marriage is it, if you don’t even get to be together? Aleta and Davis worked it out, even though she moved out of their house and he had to crawl on his belly like the snake he is to get her back.”

“Davis Bravo is not a snake,” her mother said sternly.

Elena folded her arms across her chest, muttered, “Tell that to someone who cares,” and knew that she was acting like a baby again.

Her mother made a low, sympathetic sound. And then lectured Elena some more. “Davis has made mistakes, yes. Big ones. As we all have. And now, what we want, all of us, is peace in the family. Because we are all one family now, united by you, m’hija. And by Mercy and Luke and Lucas and the new baby that’s coming. United by your close bond with Caleb, your brother. Una familia. The Cabreras and the Bravos. You know that we are.”

Elena did know. But they—her sister, her mother, all of them—asked too much of her. “Do not tell me that I have to make peace with Davis Bravo. I get enough of that from Mercy.”

Her mother reached out again. She got hold of Elena’s right wrist and tugged. Elena gave in and relaxed a little, letting her arms fall away from her chest, allowing her mother to take her hand.

Luz said, “I am not telling you what to do. You have to make your own decisions about your relationship with Davis.”

Gently now, Elena pulled her hand free. She picked up her glass, sipped her tea. “There is no relationship between me and Davis.”

Luz sank back to her own chair again. She stared at the tall glass of tea in front of her, but didn’t reach for it. “I have told you what I needed to tell you. Why don’t we speak of something more pleasant now?”

More pleasant. Like Rogan Murdoch.

But no. She wasn’t ready to talk about him with anyone but her sister. And anyway, what was there to say? About that guy who’s buying dad’s company? He told Caleb he thought I was charming and gorgeous. I really wish he would ask me out.

Uh-uh. Either he would or he wouldn’t. If it ever went anywhere with him, then she would have something to say to her mother about it.

She put on a smile. “I’m going to Bravo Ridge for Easter dinner tomorrow. Mercy talked me into it. How about you?” Mercy always invited their mom to the Bravo family dinners—and she invited their dad, too, though Javier never went.

“I don’t think so,” Luz said. Her eyes were full of memories.

When Elena and Mercy were young, Easter was a big day for the family. They all went to mass and took communion together, early in the morning. And, then, at home, when Elena was small, she hunted Easter eggs like any other American child. But by the time she was eight or nine, egg hunts were for babies. By then, Mercy was part of the family, too.

And in those years, they would often drive down to Corpus Christi and spend the day at the beach. Always, they had wonderful food. Avocado soup. Roast lamb to celebrate the end of Lent. Agua de melón. And capirotada, Mexican bread pudding, for dessert.

They were all together then, a happy family. And that was what mattered, that was what made Easter such a special day.

“I wish you would come, Mom,” Elena said.

“Not this year.”

They sat in silence for a while, sipping their tea, watching a golf cart roll along a winding trail until it disappeared in a stand of trees.

Her mother spoke again. “Forgiveness, m’hija. Sometimes I think it is the secret to a full life. We forgive and we let go. And then we can move on, we are ready to accept all the good that life still has to offer us, because we’ve made an open space in our hearts where bitterness and anger and our own secret guilts once lived.”

“Mom. I promise you. I have no secret guilts.”

“But anger and bitterness, eh? Maybe a little of those?”

“I thought we were moving on to more pleasant subjects, remember?”

“Ah, but to me forgiveness is pleasant. Better than pleasant. Forgiveness is the way to happiness.”

Anticipation.

There was no other word for what Rogan was feeling.

He’d been looking forward to seeing Elena again since he’d sat across from her at lunch the day before. It was not a feeling he should have allowed himself, given that he’d already decided he would not ask her out.

She arrived at seven. He and Caleb were in the kitchen with Irina, keeping her company while she finished getting the meal ready. The doorbell rang and Rogan had to hold himself in check against the powerful urge to jump from the counter stool and run to get it.

“That’s Elena.” Caleb left them and returned a minute later, laughing at something his sister had said, carrying a bag of chips and a covered bowl.

Elena was right behind him. She looked as beautiful as she had the day before. Maybe more so. She wore a white strapless sundress printed with vivid red, pink and purple flowers. Her hair was down, thick and shining. And the velvet skin of her shoulders made him ache to touch her.

He wouldn’t, of course. Not ever.

But hey. A man could dream.

“Hi,” she said, sending him a bright smile that made weird things happen in the pit of his stomach. “Hi, Elena.”

She set the bottle of wine she’d brought on the counter and went over to greet Irina with a quick kiss on the cheek. “What are we having?”

“Cedar plank salmon, sweet and sour rice and roasted asparagus,” Irina said in her throaty, slightly accented English.

“Yum. I brought white bean dip and olives for an appetizer.”

“Perfect,” Irina declared.

Elena took the bowl from Caleb and unwrapped it. It was the divided kind—olives on one side, dip on the other. Irina handed her a big basket for the chips.

For while, they all just stood around, chatting. Again, like yesterday at the restaurant, Rogan found it hard not to stare at Elena. That dimple at the corner of her mouth enchanted him. And he loved the husky sound of her laughter.

Eventually, they sat down to eat. Caleb got the salmon from out on the grill and opened the white wine Elena had brought. He poured for all but Irina, who was expecting their first baby in August. The food was great, the conversation easy.

Elena talked a little about her job teaching social studies to eighth graders, and Irina bragged about some deal Caleb had just made for BravoCorp, selling imported wine to a chain of high-priced restaurants.

Rogan talked about Murdoch Homes and his plans for expansion. Nobody mentioned Cabrera Construction, or the negotiations Rogan and Javier were deep into. That was fine with Rogan. It wasn’t a done deal. Not yet, anyway.

The evening went by much too quickly. They finished the meal and sipped the last of the wine. Irina served dessert and coffee outside on the patio, poolside.

At ten, Elena got up to go.

Too soon.

Magically, Rogan found himself on his feet when she rose from her chair. Which was fine. The polite thing to do. After that, he meant to tell her it was nice seeing her again and then to sit back down.

But then he heard himself saying, “I’ll walk you out….”

Caleb sent him a knowing look, which Rogan ignored. He turned and followed Elena inside. They went through the kitchen and on out to the front foyer.

It was a great place to be, following Elena. He watched the gentle swaying of her hips beneath the full skirt of her dress.

She turned to him at the door. He looked down into those bronze-colored eyes of hers and felt dazed and confused and way too eager.

To kiss her.

To stay up all night talking with her. He didn’t care in the least about what.

She said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, I’m guessing—at the Bravo family ranch?”

He could get lost in the sound of her voice, in the tempting way her mouth moved when she talked.

“Rogan?”

He realized he’d been staring. And he hadn’t answered her question. “Right. Easter dinner. I’ll be there.”

A smile played at the corner of her red lips and that dimple teased him, appearing, then vanishing. Then appearing again. “If you buy my father’s business…” She let the sentence trail off.

He was lost in her eyes. And this close, the scent of her was driving him crazy. She smelled like a tropical garden. Jasmine and sandalwood. Gardenias. Orange blossoms.

Somehow, impossibly, he remembered to speak. “If I buy your dad’s business, then what?”

“Will you be moving to San Antonio?”

He longed to nod, to lie outright, to tell her he was, yes. Absolutely. If she was here, he wanted to be here, too.

Absurd. Pointless. Over the top. Completely unlike him.

“No,” he said. “I’ll stay at the home office. One of my top contractors is willing to make the move, though. His name’s Ellis Pierce. He’s a good man, with a wife and two little girls.”

“A wife and two little girls,” she echoed. Her eyes shimmered with sudden tears. “Just like my dad, way back when.”

“Right. I hadn’t realized.” And the last thing he’d meant to do was to make her cry. “Hey…”

She blinked, put on a tight smile and hitched her chin a fraction higher. “Hmm?”

“I’m sorry. What did I say?”

“It’s not you, Rogan. Really.” She glanced down, dark lashes like fans of silk against her cheeks. When she looked at him again, she had her tears under control. “Just sentimental, I guess. It’s hard to picture my dad retired. Next thing you know, he’ll be buying a Winnebago, heading for Florida or Arizona, where all the retired people go.”

He wanted to comfort her. It was like a physical need in him—to pull her close to him, to guide her shining head down to rest on his shoulder.

But of course, he did no such thing. “Would that be so bad, your dad moving to Florida?”

“No. Not at all. As long as he’s happy there—and what’s that they say? ‘The only constant in life is change.’”

“Ain’t that the truth—but at this point, I feel obliged to add that nothing’s settled yet. Your dad and I are still hammering out a deal.”

“Ah. I see. The good man with the wife and the two little girls will be taking over if you and my dad work things out.”

“Exactly. If…”

“You’re being way too cautious, I think. I have a really strong feeling it’s all going to work out.” She gazed up at him with open invitation in those golden-brown eyes, clearly talking about more than his negotiations with Cabrera Construction. It was a very tempting offer. He ached to take her up on it.

Talk about playing with fire. He was smarter than that—or so he kept trying to tell himself.

She said, “You mentioned that your brother was your business manager?”

“Cormac. Yes.” He braced a hand on the doorframe a few inches from her head, much too close to all that glorious gold-shot dark hair.

“Will Cormac be coming down here soon—I mean, if the negotiations continue?”

“Yes, he will. Next week.”

“And you’ll both stay here, at Caleb’s?”

“No, we have a suite reserved at the Hilton—the one on the River Walk? Caleb and Irina have been great, but I don’t want to take advantage of them.”

“They have plenty of room. I think they’d love to have you and Cormac stay with them.”

“That’s what they said, too. But no. The Hilton will be perfect.”

“So…the negotiations are moving right along, then?”

“Absolutely.”

She slanted him a knowing look. “But you still won’t admit that it’s a done deal.”

“Not yet.”

“I’ll look forward to meeting Cormac.” She smiled—and there it was, that tempting dimple teasing him again, right there beside her way-too-kissable mouth.

It was his turn to say something. Anything. It didn’t really matter what the words were, he realized. Only that he spoke. And she answered. “I like your dad.”

“He likes you.” Her gaze slid to his mouth—and then swiftly lifted again so she was looking in his eyes.

A kiss, he was thinking. Just one. How wrong could it be to steal one little kiss?

True, it couldn’t go anywhere between them. But not everything had to go somewhere. It was such a simple, perfect moment. A beautiful woman, a whispered good-night.

A kiss. One kiss…

He went for it, stepping in a little closer, lowering his head.

She lifted hers.

Their lips met. Electric and tender.

He wanted to linger, to take her by the shoulders, pull her body close to his, to wrap his arms good and tight around her, to taste her more deeply.

To take his sweet time about it.

But he didn’t. That wouldn’t be right.

He lifted his head, whispered her name. “Elena…” It tasted so good in his mouth, as good as her lips had felt pressed to his, as good as the scent of her, sultry and sweet.

“Good night, Rogan.” She slipped away from him, opened the door and went out.

He followed, as if pulled by invisible strings, and stood on the porch to watch her run down the walk away from him, the high heels of her red sandals tapping briskly with each step. At her car, she circled around to the driver’s door, pausing when she got there to give him a last wave.

He lifted his hand, returned the gesture.

And then she was ducking inside. The engine started up. The car pulled away from the curb and rolled off down the street.

Rogan stood there on the front step after she was gone, thinking that he shouldn’t have kissed her.

Wishing he had kissed her again.

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