Episodes 5 to 8 of this explosive family drama!

Sex, scandal and yet more secrets! Whether it’s pre-wedding shopping in Paris for Elana and Rafe, or the arrival of backstabbing drama queen Aunt Ana, tensions are running high all around. The rehearsal dinner should be a night to celebrate romance. Instead, Mariella is missing in action, a surprise guest is slipping through the crowd, Luc is fending off blatant requests for a ring from Rachel...and the Fixer is scrambling to keep all Marshalls on message...

The wedding is almost upon them. The venue is perfect, the dress is divine...so why are Elana Marshall’s feet so mightily chilly?

Super Rich. Super Sexy. Super Addictive.

Secrets of the A-List

Secrets of the A-List Box Set, Volume 2

Secrets of the A-List (Episode 5 of 12)

Helen Lacey

Secrets of the A-List (Episode 6 of 12)

Michelle Major

Secrets of the A-List (Episode 7 of 12)

Yahrah St. John

Secrets of the A-List (Episode 8 of 12)

Cat Schield

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Praise for Helen Lacey

“The...chemistry is off the charts, in spite of their boxing-ring-worthy feuds.”

—RT Book Reviews on Three Reasons to Wed

Praise for Michelle Major

“Major handles her unforgettable characters’ issues with compassion and finesse.”

—RT Book Reviews on Suddenly a Father

Praise for Yahrah St. John

“The themes of healing and starting anew will inspire readers in this unpredictable, unique novel.”

—RT Book Reviews on A Chance with You

Praise for Cat Schield

“Sexy, sassy and romantic, this tale is a real win-win for readers.”

—RT Book Reviews on A Win-Win Proposition

Table of Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Title Page

Praise

Secrets of the A-List (Episode 5 of 12)

Introduction

About the Author

Dedication

Episode Five

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Secrets of the A-List (Episode 6 of 12)

Introduction

About the Author

Episode Six

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Secrets of the A-List (Episode 7 of 12)

Introduction

About the Author

Dedication

Episode Seven

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Secrets of the A-List (Episode 8 of 12)

Introduction

About the Author

Dedication

Episode Eight

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Copyright

Secrets of the A-List (Episode 5 of 12)

Helen Lacey

Sex, shopping...and scandal!

Tensions are running high in the Marshall clan—but temptations are running higher. Escaping to Paris for some pre-wedding shopping, Elana and Rafe come face-to-face with a mysterious stranger—one with an explosive secret link to their family. And speaking of connections—those are some white-hot sparks flying between Mariella and Joe. But who spies their tryst with her little eye?

Super Rich. Super Sexy. Super Addictive.

Secrets of the A-List—read all 12 episodes!

About the Author

HELEN LACEY grew up reading Black Beauty and Little House on the Prairie. These childhood classics inspired her to write her first book when she was seven, a story about a girl and her horse. She loves writing for Harlequin Special Edition, where she can create strong heroes with soft hearts and heroines with gumption who get their happily-ever-after. For more about Helen, visit her website, helenlacey.com.

Dedication

Thank you to my always supportive editor Susan Litman for inviting me to be a part of this fabulous serial and for the opportunity to work alongside a group of such talented and inspirational authors.

Episode Five

Gabe is the Fixer? His top-secret role in Harrison’s side business has been going on beneath the eyes of the Marshall family over the years and no one had any idea! But now Thom knows. And what Thom does with this information could be life changing...or ending. Either way, it’s just another day’s work for the Fixer.

Chapter One

Gabe Santiago stared at Thom. The last thing he wanted to do was get into anything with the other man. Not tonight. Not when he had so many other things on his mind. But he would do what he had to do. What his job demanded. As he always did.

“This is business?” Thom shook his head, then he spoke again, his voice quiet. “How long have you been doing this stuff?”

Gabe kept his emotions in check. “This stuff?”

Thom shrugged one shoulder nervously. “You know...the fixing stuff.”

He sensed it would be wrong to smile, despite the overdramatic near fear in Thom’s voice. There was nothing remotely amusing about his work. It was serious stuff. Sometimes life and death serious.

“Does it really matter?”

Thom shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable as he exhaled a shuddering breath. “I guess not. I just thought...”

“You thought what?”

The other man looked as though he wanted to plummet into a sinkhole. “I wondered why it’s all such a big secret.”

“Because it has to be. Secrets are secrets for a reason,” Gabe reminded him. “You should know that...considering.”

Gabe noticed Thom’s response in a microsecond. The other man’s jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists. His shoulders straightened. Which was the usual comeback when someone felt cornered. Gabe was well acquainted with the fight-or-flight response in people. And Thom, to his credit, didn’t look as though he wanted to bail. He looked like he wanted to knock Gabe on his ass. But Gabe wasn’t about to start a fight with his cousin’s fiancé. If he broke Thom’s nose or gave him a black eye—or worse—he’d have some serious explaining to do to Elana and Mariella. Besides, Luc and Rafe’s recent scuffle that had been caught on camera already had the rumor mills churning about the family and how they were coping after Harrison’s accident. It had taken some effort to pull the plug on the photos and video circulating on the internet.

“You’d really resort to blackmail?” Thom asked, his lips pressed together.

Gabe nodded, suddenly bored with the whole conversation. “I’ll do whatever I have to do to ensure the family is protected. Maintaining anonymity ensures their protection. If you force me out of the closet—figuratively speaking,” Gabe said calmly, “I’ll do the same.” He took a long breath and glanced backward briefly. Inside the restaurant, the party was going on without them. Gabe could hear music and Elana’s bubbly laughter and the clinking of glasses. He needed to keep it together. While Harrison was out of action, Gabe needed to be the glue that kept everyone together and the family afloat. He knew what the truth about Thom would do to the family. He knew Elana would be hurt and Thom’s parents, Samuel and Caroline Scott, would be outraged. It was better that everything remained a secret. Hidden. Off the grid. As it had been for so long.

Gabe took another deep breath and spoke again. “And since it will not only upset Elana, but also ruin the relationship with your parents that you clearly want to protect, you should think hard before you open your mouth to the family...or the press.”

“Is that a threat?”

Gabe shrugged loosely. “Take it as you like. I get things done. Things that other people don’t want to do.”

“As Harrison’s hired thug, you mean?”

“As someone who will do whatever needs to be done to protect the people in that room,” he replied, hooking a thumb in the direction of the party. “You’d do well to remember that since you’re soon to become part of this family.”

Thom ran a hand through his short-cropped hair. “This is seriously fucked-up.”

“This is real life,” Gabe said harshly. “Get used to it.”

“I thought we were friends.”

Friends. Gabe wondered how long it had been since he’d considered anyone a friend. Luc, maybe, a long time ago. When they were kids, before Harrison’s eldest son started resenting Gabe for his close relationship with the older man. And he’d never really been friends with Thom. He liked him well enough, but he would forget him in a heartbeat if he needed to.

“There are no friends in business,” Gabe said coolly and saw Thom’s eyes flash. “But if you want to keep this friendly, then keep your mouth shut. Do that, and the photos will stay hidden and no one will know the truth about you.”

Thom took a couple of steps closer to the edge of the balcony. The crashing waves of the Pacific were at odds with the uneasy quiet around them, and even the music from inside the restaurant seemed to have dropped in volume. There was a long drop to the rocks below, and as Gabe watched, the other man stared down into the darkness. For a moment, he wondered if Thom felt so cornered and out of control that he would end things and jump. Of course, Gabe would stop him. He wasn’t totally without compassion. Thom was okay, even if he believed the upcoming wedding was complete farce. But it wasn’t Gabe’s place or his job to get involved. He didn’t do involvement. He stayed on the sidelines, working, watching everyone else screw up so he could fix things.

“I do love Elana,” Thom said quietly. “Despite what you think.”

“I don’t think anything,” Gabe replied.

Thom shrugged loosely and spun around. “I’m not gay.”

Gabe met his gaze head-on and tapped his coat pocket. “Really? I’ve known you a long time. And I know everything about you.”

Thom visibly swallowed, clearly unhappy. “They don’t prove anything.”

Gabe raised a brow. “Maybe not. They don’t really have to prove anything. They exist...that’s enough for it to become a problem.”

“It wasn’t how it looked. Nothing happened.”

Gabe almost laughed. “Doesn’t matter. But your secret is safe, Thom. Make sure you don’t do anything to change that.”

“Or else?”

Gabe took a long breath, his hands thrust in his pockets. “Or else.”

“You don’t scare me.”

Gabe was pretty sure he did, but a part of him admired the other man’s resilience. “That’s not my intention. Just making sure we’re on the same page.”

“The same page?” Thom echoed incredulously. “Are you kidding me?”

“I never kid. I act. I respond. You’d do well to remember that, Thom.”

“You really are a fucking devious bastard,” Thom said and shook his head.

Irritation coursed up Gabe’s spine. He was tired of the conversation. Tired of Thom’s voice. Maybe he should punch Thom in the face. Maybe he just needed a long workout at the gym or to get laid to ease the tension cramping his entire body. It had been too long since he’d screwed his brains out to forget things for a few mindless hours.

The music suddenly got louder, and they both turned toward the patio entrance. Mariella came through the door, and some of the tension constricting Gabe’s chest disappeared. His aunt always calmed him. Maybe it was a DNA thing, a blood tie that couldn’t be denied. She’d been more of a mother to him than his own ever had, that was for sure.

“What are you two doing out here?” she inquired, arms now crossed, tapping long nails on her elbows.

Gabe knew his aunt well and sensed her disappointment in Thom’s quick departure from the restaurant and his aborted speech. “Nothing, Tía,” he assured her. “Just guy talk.”

“I’ve been looking for you, Thom,” she said quietly, her voice a little sterner than usual. “Elana is concerned that you—”

“I’m fine,” Thom said in a rush. “I just needed some air, like I said.”

“What happened in there?”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t—”

“Couldn’t what?” she pressed. “Manage a short speech to celebrate your engagement to my daughter?”

Thom nodded. “I know. As I said right after it happened, I’m truly sorry...”

“It’s just cold feet, Tía,” Gabe said and tapped Thom on the shoulder. “Typical prewedding jitters. Nothing to worry about. I was just telling Thom how every groom feels that way.”

The other man flashed him a how-the-hell-would-you-know kind of look. Which made sense, since Gabe had never been married, engaged, or trapped in any kind of long-term, committed relationship. Commitment meant laying a heart on the line, and that was out of the question. Romantic love was for fools. Sex was all he allowed himself. Hot, meaningless sex with faceless women. One night, maybe two. Nothing serious. Nothing that could lead to rejection or heartbreak. For a moment, and against his better judgment, he allowed himself to remember a girl with long blond hair and deep blue eyes. A girl he’d loved and lost. But that was a long time ago, more of a shadow now than a memory. The pain was still there, though, deep down, in his dark place. He shook the thought off, switching back to what mattered. The family. Elana’s engagement. Harrison getting better. Finding out if someone had tried to kill the man who’d raised him. His work as the Fixer remaining a secret.

“Cold feet?” Mariella said, her dramatic brows now at a steep angle.

Thom looked instantly on the defensive. Mariella’s disapproval had a way of doing that to people. Thom was as eager to please her as everyone else. “I’m good now.”

“I hope so,” Mariella said quietly. “Elana, as wonderful and enchanting as she is, is easily spooked. I don’t want her thinking that you aren’t one hundred percent committed to this relationship.”

“I am committed,” Thom said on a rush of breath and glanced toward Gabe. “I love her. Only her.”

“I’m pleased to hear that. I’d hate to think you were going to bail on my daughter because of cold feet. Or anything else.”

Gabe heard something in Mariella’s voice. Did she suspect Thom wasn’t being entirely honest with Elana? As far as he knew, he was the only one who knew of Thom’s inclinations. Maybe Mariella knew more than he thought. If she did, she wasn’t letting on.

“I’m sure Thom has no intention of upsetting Elana,” Gabe said and glanced at the other man. “Right, Thom?”

“Right,” Thom replied. “Of course. I was stupid for a moment. It won’t happen again.” He tugged at his collar. “And I should probably get back inside and talk to Elana.”

“You won’t upset her?” Mariella said.

Thom shook his head. “No. I’m good now. But I need to talk to my fiancée.”

Gabe’s suspicions rose. Thom sounded off. Running scared. Mariella was frowning and clearly sensed it, too. The last thing he wanted was Thom getting an attack of conscience and telling Elana that he was gay. “I’ll go with you,” he said quietly and waited until Thom walked on ahead a few steps before he spoke to his aunt. “It’s okay, Tía...it’s all under control.”

“Make sure it is,” Mariella said quietly, almost gravely. “I don’t want anything to ruin my daughter’s wedding.”

“I’ve got it covered,” he assured her before he headed back into the restaurant. “You know I will always protect the family. No matter what the cost.”

* * *

Thom wasn’t sure how the hell he was supposed to talk to Elana with Gabe breathing down his neck. Dammit, but the dark and brooding Gabriel Santiago made him feel like an insecure sixteen-year-old. The truth was, Gabe was more Marshall than Santiago. He was more like Harrison than either Luc or Rafe. He possessed the old man’s grit and coldness...the same steely-eyed determination and ruthlessness. No wonder Gabe was the Fixer. It all made perfect sense now. Harrison was the money man, Gabe the muscle. It was clearly the perfect combination. As he walked toward his fiancée, Thom recalled the conversation he’d overheard at the house. The names. The numbers. The things that needed to be done. The Fixer fixing things while Harrison lay in a coma.

This is so fucked up.

What else didn’t he know? The police were still investigating the accident. There were no fresh leads. It was likely to remain that way unless Harrison woke up from the coma. It occurred to Thom that maybe Gabe was responsible for Harrison’s accident. Out with the old...the perfect takeover. He certainly had the connections to orchestrate such a thing.

The idea left him cold. Elana would be devastated by that idea.

Besides, he had no proof. He’d only ever witnessed Gabe and Harrison as having a close relationship. Still, as he reached Elana, the notion lingered.

She was frowning as he approached, brushing off the woman at her side to take a few steps toward him. “Where have you been?” she demanded, her lovely face filled with irritation.

God, she was beautiful. And vivacious. And challenging. And everything any man could want or desire. He longed to truly want her. To truly need her. To truly love her the way she needed to be loved.

But even after so many years, it still tasted like a lie on his tongue.

Because, in his heart, he knew it wasn’t Elana that he wanted. Or needed. Or loved.

It was someone else.

It always had been.

“I’ve been out on the balcony with your mother and cousin,” he replied, trying to make his voice as light as possible. “Did you miss me?”

She was still frowning. “Your speech...”

“I know,” he said and touched her arm. “I’m sorry. Let’s go someone where we can talk.”

She glanced around. “And leave the party?”

“Only for a moment,” he assured her. “I need to speak with you, Elana...it’s important.”

Her expression became wary, but she finally nodded a little. “Okay.”

She led him toward the bar, and they huddled in a dark corner. Thom looked over his shoulder and saw Gabe striding toward them. The other man had the upper hand. The Fixer had him by the cojones, and he knew it. But he wasn’t about to be blackmailed, especially by someone as disagreeable and grim as Gabe Santiago. He knew he had to marry Elana. That’s all that mattered. He had to do something, and fast. “Marry me,” he said quickly.

Elana’s eyes widened, and she giggled. “What?”

“Marry me,” he said again.

“Um...we’re already engaged, Thom,” she reminded him. “You asked me that question already, months ago. I said yes. You gave me a ring, and now here we are.”

“Marry me now,” Thom said and moved closer. “Tonight. Let’s fly to Vegas and do it. Just you and me. No one else. Just us, Elana...like it should be.”

“But we—”

“Come on,” he insisted, whispering the words close to her ear. “It’ll be fun. Don’t tell me you’re not as over all this wedding preparation stuff as I am. The whole thing is turning into a circus. Let’s do it. Let’s say to hell with everyone and everything and just do it our own way.”

She laughed and pressed against him. “Since when have you been so impulsive? I mean, I like it...but we can’t possibly do it.”

“You can’t possibly do what?”

Gabe’s voice. Thom’s back straightened immediately. But it was Elana who spoke next.

“My gorgeous fiancé wants to elope,” she said with a shrill laugh. “Imagine that.”

He looked at the other man and raised a brow. “Really? This is all rather sudden.”

Thom shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s not really anyone’s business but ours.”

Elana jabbed him in the ribs. “Thom,” she chided. “Gabe didn’t mean anything by it, did you, cousin?”

Gabe shook his head. “Of course not. But Thom is just full of surprises tonight, isn’t he?”

Elana laughed again. “True enough, but I like it. Keep this up and I’ll make it worth your while later.”

The innuendo was obvious, and Thom felt his skin heat. Elana was a flirt, no doubt about it, but he wasn’t usually on the receiving end of her flirtation. Even if it was for show, it still made him uncomfortable. Thom glanced toward Gabe and saw a brief flash of skepticism in the other man’s expression. But Gabe hid it well. Occupational hazard, he thought, figuring that the Fixer spent his life hiding who he was and what he did.

And Thom wished that making love with Elana would fix everything. But it wouldn’t.

“Everything okay here?”

Mariella.

The older woman approached and moved beside her nephew. Uneasiness crept up Thom’s spine. He liked and respected Elana’s mother, but en masse, the family was formidable.

“Elana was just saying how Thom wants to elope,” Gabe supplied.

“Really?” Mariella said, her mouth pressed into a thin line. “And what do you say, Elana?”

“I was just about to say,” Elana purred the words and leaned in toward him, “that as exciting as that sounds, there’s no way we could possibly do that without upsetting you and Thom’s parents. And Daddy,” she added, her voice suddenly quiet, “I mean, if he was here...and awake and able to...you know what I mean.”

Guilt pressed down on Thom’s shoulders. He knew how much Elana adored her father and tried to offer a few consoling words. “I’m sure he’s here in spirit, honey.”

Elana’s eyes filled with tears, and she blinked quickly. “I know. I just wish—”

“The wedding will go ahead as planned,” Mariella said firmly, cutting her off. “Arrangements have been made, venues booked, invitations sent out. It’s what we all want. What we planned. And remember that you are heading to Paris next Friday. Dior is expecting you to choose from their spring collection.”

Paris. That’s right. Elana was going on a shopping trip. Harrison Marshall’s daughter had her pick from the best fashion houses in Europe. Mariella had taken great pride in assuring that Elana had her pick from the latest collection. And no doubt his fiancée would spend her time and money equally at Saint Laurent, Givenchy and Dior. Their wedding was the event of the year on the social calendar. Hundreds of guests, the best catering, gowns direct from Paris...so no expense spared. Yeah, circus just about covered it. But if he knew Elana, he suspected she’d be scouring some of the edgier, more modern fashion houses while she was in Paris. And her next words confirmed it.

“I was thinking about heading to a few of the newer places,” Elana said and smiled. “You know, in the Boho district. Some of the places you’re suggesting are so...so...old-school.”

Mariella waved an impatient hand. “It’s already organized.”

“But, Mom, I—”

“You can do both. Remember, we need this wedding to show the world that we are still a tight unit, a family,” Mariella stressed. “So forget all this nonsense about eloping and start mingling with your guests. This is your engagement party,” she reminded them and then smiled. “And you two are not going to deprive me of the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of seeing my darling daughter get married. I won’t hear of it.” She moved between them, draping an arm around them both for a moment. “Okay?”

Elana nodded. “You’re right, Mom.”

Mariella stepped back, releasing them, looking very pleased with herself. Of course, she would be, Thom thought. She’d won the round, with her best trained attack dog at her side. He noticed that Gabe was still watching them with a kind of veiled skepticism.

Thom wrapped an arm around his fiancée’s slender waist and pulled her close. She smelled so good, like flowers and apples. Beneath the scent of the Creed tuberose fragrance she wore, her signature shampoo was as familiar to him as his own breath, and he inhaled deeply, feeling the comfort and warmth of her seep through to his bones like a tonic. To the world she was Harrison Marshall’s spoiled and indulged daughter, often considered a flake and ridiculed or referred to unkindly in the media. But to Thom, she was his Elana. His best freaking friend in the whole world.

He would marry her. And he’d be faithful. He’d make it work. For both of them. He had to.

He had no other choice.

Chapter Two

Elana was never going to admit to anyone that she had never really cared for Paris.

After all, it was Paris.

But she preferred the warmth and sunshine of California to the cool Parisian evenings. And she preferred her own room and the familiarity of her own things at Casa Cat. The truth was, she’d never been much of a traveler. But this trip was important to her mother, so she would make the best of it.

Besides, she had Rafe for company. Her brother had agreed to accompany her, and she was delighted to spend time with her favorite sibling. He wasn’t as serious and disapproving as Luc, or as brooding and mysterious as Gabe. Rafe understood her. And it went both ways. She knew their father disapproved of him, even though he feigned tolerance. But she’d always loved Rafe for who he was—a kind, compassionate and creative man who had so much to offer the world. They had the same sense of humor, enjoyed the same movies and music, and shared many of the same friends. Like Thom. She knew her brother supported her marriage and would always be her greatest ally in her family. And she loved him for always showing his support—even when he disagreed with her choices. Like Jarrod. But even if he scolded her, he would only ever do it in private. That was how it had always been between them.

And shopping at the best fashion houses on Boulevard Saint-Germain and Champs-Elysees wasn’t exactly a hardship. She’d been pampered and indulged for over two hours, selecting her trousseau with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. Retail therapy always worked when she was in a funk. And Rafe had promised to accompany her to Montmartre later that afternoon so she could explore some of her favorite shops without their mother’s disapproval casting a shadow from across the ocean. Plus, the explicit texts she been getting from Jarrod all morning had lightened her mood. The man certainly knew which buttons to push. Even if it did make her miss him like crazy. And want him. She couldn’t wait to be in his bed again. She craved him so much it hurt having so many miles between them. Surely he understood why she had to marry Thom. It was for the family. To preserve their reputation. To give the appearance of unity and strength. And she had her role to play, as everyone else did.

“You know,” Rafe drawled, glass in hand, ankles crossed as he stretched out on the brocade chaise across from her, “your French is way better than your Spanish. Why is that, I wonder?”

Elana shrugged her slender shoulders and offered him a cheeky grin. “Not as many expectations, I suppose.”

“You mean, because Mariella isn’t breathing down your neck telling you to enunciate your vowels,” he said, mimicking their mother’s husky voice, and they both laughed loudly.

Elana got her laughter under control and quickly met her brother’s gaze. “Why do you and Luc refer to her as Mariella? You know she hates it. And since you’re her favorite child...”

As her words trailed off, Rafe shrugged and then smiled. “She only pretends to hate it.”

“Because you can do no wrong in her eyes?”

He laughed. “Are you serious? I’m like the family’s number-one disappointment.”

“You are not,” she said and shook her head, still smiling. “I am.”

“Nope,” Rafe said and grinned wider. “That’s my claim to fame. I mean, we all know that Luc is Mother’s favorite. She’s always treated him differently than the rest of us. And you’re the baby of the family, so you get a free pass. Although sometimes I think Gabe is her favorite.”

“That’s because he’s her nephew,” Elana explained and smirked. “You know, abandoned, fatherless child, et cetera...pity is a solid motivator.”

“So, now she pities Gabe. What about me...don’t I deserve some pity, too? I really think I’m this family’s number-one black sheep.”

“Oh, please,” Elana said dramatically. “I’m definitely this family’s biggest disappointment. I didn’t go to college. Let’s be honest, I barely made it through high school. I’m window dressing for the business, that’s all. So I won’t have you trying to steal that crown from me.”

Rafe stuck his chin out. “I think I could pull off a tiara as well as you, little sister.”

She laughed loudly. “Of course you could,” she said and reached across the small coffee table to grab the sparkly headpiece that matched the earrings she’d added to her trousseau. “Want to try this on for size?”

“You think I won’t?”

Elana loved that her brother was always up for a dare. “Be my guest.”

Rafe reached across and grabbed the small tiara, propping it on his head with a laugh. “See...perfect.”

“You look so pretty.”

Her brother quickly ditched the headpiece and laughed. “We all know that Luc is the pretty boy in the family. And he’s a doctor. And he has a perfectly beautiful and well-connected girlfriend. Even if Rachel is so cold you could freeze ice cubes on her ass. Yes, Luc’s the whole package.”

“But you’re nicer,” she assured him, chuckling. “Anyway, I always thought Gabe was the handsome one.”

“And Dad’s favorite,” he said and grinned.

“Don’t let Luc hear you say that. Besides, I think Gabe has taken Dad’s accident personally...like he feels he should have protected him, or something.”

Rafe frowned. “Protected him from what?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know...it’s just a feeling. You know they work closely together. He’s Dad’s right-hand man.”

“The son he wished he always had,” Rafe said with a cynical smile.

But Elana wasn’t fooled. She knew her brother craved to be held in the same esteem as their cousin or Luc. “You know that Dad has always found it hard to show how he feels about things.”

“About me, you mean?” Rafe said and raised a dark brow. “It’s okay, Elana... I know he loves me. It’s just that sometimes...sometimes he acts as though he wishes he didn’t, if that makes sense. Anyway, let’s not get maudlin. Let’s talk about happy things. Like your wedding.”

Elana let out a long sigh. “Thom wanted to elope. He called the wedding a circus,” she said and sipped some champagne, looking around at the racks of gowns and the almost vulgar sense of wealth that surrounded them. The place reeked of opulence and entitlement. It really wasn’t her thing. Elana preferred a little more edge to her wardrobe. “I’m beginning to think he’s right.”

“Thom just wants to keep you safe.”

“Do you think?” she asked, thinking it seemed a strange thing for her brother to say. “Safe from what?”

“Overexposure,” he replied and shrugged. “Bad press. Particularly after that scuffle Luc and I got into recently.”

“Scuffle?” she echoed, one brow arched.

Rafe grinned. “Luc likes to think he can still beat me in a fight. Which he usually can,” he said and rubbed his jaw at the memory. “But I’ll never let him know that. Besides, you know the Scotts haven’t hogged the limelight like the Marshalls have for the past few decades. They might be wealthy, but they’re middle-class, suburban folk at their core.”

“Pompous snob,” she chided playfully. “I thought you adored Thom as much as I do.”

Something flashed across her brother’s face. Disappointment? Concern? Anguish? Was her caring, sensitive brother really convinced that she was doing the right thing?

“Of course I like Thom,” he said quietly. “And I’m not a snob. I just want you to be sure.”

“I am sure. I’m doing the right thing,” she said. “You’ve been friends with him for years, too. You know Thom is a good man. He’s just a lousy public speaker.”

Rafe made a sympathetic face. “No doubt he’s going to be reminded of his appalling speech at the engagement party for a while?”

“You know what the press is like,” she said and sighed. “But I’m sure he’s tough enough to take it. Although he did shut down his social media accounts as a precaution.”

“But not you?” Rafe queried and eyed her cell phone on the table. “You still tweeting our every move on this trip?”

She grinned. “Have to keep my followers happy. And it takes the heat off your fight with Luc and any nosy interest in Dad’s condition. Thom isn’t as savvy when it comes to turning bad publicity into good.”

“But you are?”

She chuckled. “I’m a pro. I just told him to keep his head down and be quiet for a couple of weeks. He liked that idea. You know Thom...he’s not one to hog the limelight. He really is too sweet for words. He’s kind and considerate, and he really wants to marry me.”

“Of course he does,” Rafe said. “Who wouldn’t?”

Elana managed a tentative smile. “Exactly,” she said and got to her feet. “And now, I have to get back to shopping. I have some serious lingerie decisions to make. I mean, do I go for demure ingenue, or sexy whore?” She pointed to a rail of gossamer-thin negligees, silk robes and satin corsets. “Which one do you think Thom will like?”

Rafe swallowed hard and adjusted his collar. “I’m sure he’ll like whatever you choose.”

“But which one?” she teased.

“White,” he said and smiled a little. “And demure.”

“Spoilsport. You’re only saying that because no one likes to imagine their little sister getting down and dirty on their wedding night. Right?”

One thing Rafe didn’t want to think about was Elana having sex with Thom.

Because he wished he was the one in Thom’s bed.

He wasn’t proud of his feelings. Thom was engaged to his sister. Thom was his friend.

And he could never tell Elana how he felt. She wouldn’t understand. As close as they were, as much as his baby sister loved him, Rafe knew it was a line that couldn’t be crossed. Not again.

A memory, sharp and painful, banged around in his head. He’d tried to ignore it. Tried to forget. But in that moment he was back in private school. Senior year. He’d been quiet and studious back then, and although he’d had a few friends, he mostly kept to himself. He’d already come out to his family, and although he knew they’d been upset by the news, the subject was never broached. His father wouldn’t discuss it, and Rafe was happy to deal with his dad’s silence over disapproval or rejection. His friends accepted him for who he was, including his best friend, Thom Scott. Thom was originally Elana’s best friend growing up, but she’d often included Rafe in their group. When Elana started hanging out with more popular kids at school, that left Rafe and Thom as the remaining musketeers. They studied together. Hung out together. Did everything together. Despite the fact that Thom dated girls, Rafe suspected his friend had other feelings, too. He’d never said it, never confronted Thom, but he sensed something whenever they were together, and the feeling wouldn’t go away.

And then, one night, when they were in his room cramming for a math exam the following day, Rafe had moved closer, closed his eyes, placed a gentle hand on Thom’s shoulder and then leaned in, kissing him. Softly, just on the corner of his mouth. Just a small, featherlight kiss. Feelings had bombarded him. Thom’s skin, the scent that was so achingly familiar. Thom had pulled back immediately, saying Rafe had gotten it wrong. He wasn’t like that. He wasn’t gay. He liked girls. He’d never been with a boy. And then Thom had bailed from the room as though his feet were on fire. Rafe had been racked with guilt. He needed to explain, to apologize to his best friend. He’d mustered the courage to call, but Thom hadn’t picked up his cell. He even ignored him both before and after the math exam.

Two days later Rafe headed to Thom’s house. Thom’s parents were out, and his friend was alone. At first, he wasn’t sure that Thom would let him in, but he did. And they talked, sharing a few beers that Thom had swiped from his dad’s stash. Rafe kept apologizing, and Thom appeared to understand. But then, something changed in the way Thom was looking at him. Rafe didn’t misinterpret it. He knew what he saw in his friend’s eyes. And fueled by a sudden overwhelming desire and a deep surge of longing for his best friend, he kissed Thom again. And then again. Putting his arms on his shoulders, covering his mouth with his own. And suddenly, Thom wasn’t resisting. He was kissing him back! Then they were upstairs in Thom’s room, alone, rolling around on the narrow bed, mouths, tongues, breath all mingling. It felt so good. So right. Their clothes were quickly shed, and they were naked, skin against skin, sweat and sweat. And finally, they were together, one person, connected in the most intimate way possible, driven by an inexplicable need, a desire that came from a place Rafe hadn’t known existed. Thom accepted him, eager but nervous, and Rafe took his time, teaching, schooling, showing Thom how good it could be. It was hot and erotic and mind-blowing. It was sex and pleasure unlike any he’d known before. And for Rafe, it was so much more. It was as though he’d finally found what he was searching for. That one person. His other half.

When it was over, when they had both sated the driving, almost primal need inside each other, they fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, stretched out on the narrow bed.

Thom was still sleeping when Rafe kissed him goodbye before leaving.

When he’d tried to talk to Thom the next time he saw him, his friend had looked at him blankly, insisting he remembered nothing. It hurt deep into his bones. Maybe it was the beer? Not that they’d been off-their-face drunk. True, Thom wasn’t much of a drinker back then. Or perhaps Thom was simply experimenting and had worked out that he was straight, after all. Maybe he was embarrassed that things had gone so far. Maybe Rafe had imagined the whole thing after a few too many beers. No, he knew what had happened between them. But he couldn’t force Thom to come out. Everyone had to walk their own path. Rafe knew firsthand how difficult it was to live an authentic life when surrounded by judgment and disapproval, even from the people who loved you the most. And Thom’s parents weren’t as young or accepting as his own.

After that, for several years, Thom distanced himself from their friendship, only hanging out when Elana was present or to play the odd game of tennis, and Rafe didn’t push the issue. Nor did he mention their night together ever again. Not to anyone.

And now Thom was about to marry his sister and would be Rafe’s brother-in-law.

Complicated didn’t half cover it.

He’d wanted Thom back then.

And he wanted him still.

But he loved Elana and would never do anything to hurt his baby sister. So he kept his feelings, and the past, well hidden. It was better for everyone. Even if he did know that both Elana and Thom weren’t being entirely true to themselves. And even if it did hurt like hell.

“Why don’t we ditch this place and go and have lunch at the fanciest restaurant we can find that doesn’t have the name Marshall attached to it?”

Elana’s voice jerked him out of his maudlin thoughts. He got to his feet and smiled. “Good plan.”

“I know just the place,” she said with a mischievous grin. “Oscar’s,” she said—one of the best places in that part of the city.

Rafe shook his head and grabbed his jacket. “Not Oscar’s. And don’t ask me why, when you know perfectly well.”

She shrugged innocently. “We don’t even know if he’s still working there.”

He. Paolo. His ex. He’d been with Paolo, a chef at one of their restaurants, for six months, until the other man slept with someone else and was caught in a clinch by a friend and then a picture was plastered all over Twitter and Instagram. The paparazzi had fun for days with that story. But the news was out of the headlines almost as quickly as it was in. And days later, Paolo had taken a job as sous chef in Paris and left the country without saying goodbye or collecting his toothbrush from Rafe’s apartment. That was a year ago, but Rafe had no reason to believe that Paolo had left Paris.

“I’m sure he is,” Rafe said.

Elana’s eyes sparkled. “Well, maybe it’s time you guys talked.”

“Not interested.”

His sister sighed. “You don’t have a forgiving bone in your body.”

“I do,” Rafe said quietly. “I just consider cheating unforgivable.”

Rafe knew the idea of cheating was a sore point with his sister, since she was still seeing that jerk-off Jarrod. Rafe didn’t understand why his sister would risk everything she had with Thom for the sex-obsessed, married Hollywood sleaze. Sure, Jarrod was good-looking and probably oozed excitement to Elana...but he was a schmuck. A douche. A freaking cliché, with his fancy car and movie-star wife.

“Paolo made a mistake. People do, you know. Even people as perfect as you.”

“I’m not perfect,” Rafe assured her. “Far from it.”

She smiled sweetly. “You are to me.”

Guilt licked between his shoulder blades. Sometimes he wished he had the courage to tell Elana everything. About how he’d slept with her now fiancé so many years ago. But he never would. Family was...family. And with their father still in a coma, with Luc acting all alpha and Gabe being his usual brooding and mysterious self, he knew he and Elana had to stick together.

“Thanks. I think you’re pretty special, too.”

She grabbed his arm as they walked out from the salon and hit the pavement. Rafe roped an arm around her waist and hugged her close. The afternoon sun was bright, and there was a faint breeze following them as they began walking down the street. Breeze, accompanied by a couple of nosy photographers. But there was nothing unusual about that. Elana’s incessant tweeting made being inconspicuous impossible. Rafe grabbed her hand and kept walking, keen to duck the prying eyes of the media.

“We’ll be on Instagram within the hour. I can already see the headlines,” she said and gave a brittle laugh. “One half of ‘Thelana’ paints the town red.”

“That’s such a stupid name for you and Thom,” Rafe said and grimaced. “Nowhere near as cool as Kimye.”

Elana laughed loudly. “Because I’m not as cool,” she said. “And Thom can be such a dork sometimes. But at least this is nothing more scandalous than a shopping trip. Unless,” she said and gave a cheeky grin, “we head to Oscar’s so you can hook up for a quickie in the cool room with he who shall not be mentioned.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Rafe warned playfully. “The last thing this family needs right now is another scandal. Besides, we don’t want to have to call in the Fixer.”

“Ha,” she laughed. “I don’t have the number. I’m not even sure he exists.”

“He?” Rafe’s brows shot up instantly. “Maybe it’s a not a he. Maybe it’s a she.” His eyes sparkled. “Maybe it’s you?”

“Me?” Elana laughed again as a photographer snapped a few shots as they walked up the street and headed around the nearest corner. “Hardly. That job sounds way too organized for me. I can’t even balance my checkbook.”

“Maybe it’s Luc,” Rafe said and shrugged.

He didn’t look convinced, but Elana wasn’t about to admit she’d been thinking the same thing. She tried to make her voice as casual as she could. “I suppose it makes sense... Luc’s Daddy’s favorite. I mean, besides me. And Gabe,” she added and grinned. “And he gets to hear all the good gossip when he’s nipping and tucking all those celebrity housewives. He’d know who needs to be bailed out of trouble.”

“As he constantly informs me, he does more than boobs and Botox.”

“I know what a do-gooder our big brother is. There’ll probably be a HBO special on his work with Doctors Without Borders.”

Rafe’s mouth twisted. “You sound jealous. Worried that Luc might steal the limelight from you?”

“Ha, no chance. I’m the bride-to-be at the wedding of the year, remember?”

“I remember. But he might beat you to the altar with Blondie.”

Elana screwed up her face. “I really don’t like her. She’s got cold eyes...like a fish.”

“Or a shark?”

“Yeah,” Elana said and laughed again. “And she’s been circling our brother like he’s a tasty meal.”

“She moved into his apartment...he must like her a little.”

“He’s a boob man,” Elana said crassly. “He likes her assets. I just hope he knows what he’s doing. Imagine having to spoon that icicle every night. She must be good in bed, that’s all I can guess.”

Rafe chuckled. “Say what you really think. Incidentally, if you think Luc is the Fixer, why didn’t you call him out on it when you had a chance?”

“I didn’t say he was,” she said, suddenly more serious. “You did.”

Rafe shook his head. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

“So, speaking of a special someone,” Elana said as they crossed the street and headed for a small café.

“Is that what we were doing?”

“Sure,” she said and chuckled. “I said you were special. You said I was...blah, blah. When are you going to get back in circulation?”

They were seated and had ordered coffee before Rafe replied. “I’m in circulation,” he assured. “Well and truly.”

She made a face. “I don’t believe you. And I can’t believe someone hasn’t snapped you up. I could set you up with someone.”

“No, thanks.”

“How about him?” she asked and discreetly pointed to a good-looking, well-dressed young man who strode past and glanced their way.

“For me?” he inquired. “Or you?”

Elana waved her left hand, and the huge engagement ring sparkled. “Just because I’m getting married doesn’t mean I’ve lost my eyesight.”

He laughed. “I guess not. So...how does Jarrod feel about the wedding?”

She shrugged, looking faintly embarrassed for a second, but quickly composed herself. “He doesn’t care.”

Rafe didn’t believe her. “You sure about that?”

“Positive,” she replied and drank some coffee. “He’s married...so why shouldn’t I be?”

His sister’s logic was illogical. “And Thom? Does he know you clearly have no intention of being faithful?”

Her brows came together. “What makes you think I won’t be?”

“I know you, Elana. Are you hoping that Jarrod will leave his wife? It that why you’re marrying Thom? To force Hollywood’s hand?”

She shook her head. “I don’t believe in fairy tales.”

“He might leave her,” Rafe said quietly. “With the right kind of ultimatum.”

“I don’t want to,” she said, her voice firmer. “I love Thom. I’m going to marry him.”

It sounded like a lie. But he loved Elana too much to admonish her.

“I know.”

“Then why do you sound as though you don’t approve?” she asked.

“Of Thom?” Rafe’s brows shot up. “Didn’t I agree earlier that I’m his number-one fan?”

“Now you’re making fun of me,” she said, eyes suddenly downcast. “I thought that was Luc’s job, not yours.”

“Touchy subject.”

“Not at all,” she defended. “Jarrod and I have one kind of relationship. And with Thom, I have another. Maybe it feels as though we’re friends more than lovers...none of that makes any difference. I’m marrying Thom because it’s the right thing to do. It’s time I settled down and acted like a grown-up. And it’s what Dad wants. I’m doing it for him.”

An odd pain pinched in Rafe’s chest. Of course, Elana was doing it to please their father. That was a no-brainer. And deep down, he agreed with her decision. He and Thom were a daydream. A fantasy, conjured up from some old infatuation.

But it hurt.

Badly.

* * *

Gabe glanced at his watch. He’d been sitting beside Harrison’s bed for half an hour without saying a word. The nurse had said it was good to talk, and that on some level, the other man could hear his words and feel his family around him. But to Gabe, speaking felt foolish. He’d never been one to waste words. But he needed to find a way to relieve the tension that had come to consume him over the past weeks. Sitting with Harrison, even staring into space, helped some.

The last time he’d been here, Mariella had been with him. They’d sat in silence on opposite sides of the bed, watching over the man who meant so much to them both. He’d wanted to tell her everything, to admit who he was and what he knew about Harrison’s accident. But he couldn’t. Not then. And not yet. Not until he found out who was responsible and why they wanted the man he had always considered to be his father dead.

He made a mental note to talk to the detective in charge of the case. Hank Burns was known for hating rich people. He had a good reputation but was a hard-ass. But Gabe figured he’d get around that. He could talk street if he needed to. He’d gain the cop’s trust by whatever means necessary. He made a mental note to find out what he could about Burns. His past, any indiscretions, wife, mistress, that kind of thing. Ammunition sometimes came in handy when trying to negotiate. Gabe wanted to know what the police knew, because he had the resources to do something about it.

He’d tried keeping watch over Harrison from afar through the hack he’d had installed in the clinic’s security cams, but so far, there had been glitches in the system. His hacker was working on it, but so far they’d had more failure than success. Another aspect of the situation to stress over.

“Everything is okay, I promise,” he suddenly found himself saying to Harrison, quickly glancing toward the closed door to ensure no one entered the room and saw him chatting to a man in a coma. “And under control.”

He took a deep breath, rounded out his shoulders and began to talk about what he’d been doing over the past few weeks, what he’d fixed. He talked about the family, the engagement party, the upcoming wedding and the business. He didn’t say anything about the fallout from the engagement party—the way the tabloids had made it seem as though the engagement was on the rocks. Thom’s botched speech had done the rounds on social media, but other than making the other man look like a first-rate idiot, it seemed no permanent harm had been done.

“And things with Thom are fine now.”

Or so he hoped. He wasn’t sure that Harrison would approve of his methods on that score. Harrison had always insisted that family came above anything else—even the business. Gabe wasn’t sure the older man would agree with his decision to pretty much blackmail Thom into staying quiet about learning he was the Fixer. But what else could he have done? No one could know the truth. Besides, Gabe was glad he was the one who had the photographs of Thom and the hairdresser. The last thing the family needed was another sex scandal. He’d already shifted that indiscreet chef Rafe had been seeing last year off to Paris when photographs of him performing fellatio on some fading rock star had started circulating on the internet. It had taken Gabe precisely forty-eight hours to get the chef on a plane to France with a wad of cash in his pocket and the knowledge he wouldn’t be back on California soil for years. It had been an easy fix and one that was necessary.

Gabe didn’t understand why the Marshall siblings couldn’t choose discretion over some kind of foolish and romantic love that inevitably landed them in the tabloids. He had doused the flames on Elana’s affair with that married movie producer a couple of times, but his cousin kept finding ways to rekindle it. Only Luc seemed to have his head fastened on right when it came to women. Until he’d starting screwing that spoiled, conniving congressman’s daughter. Gabe suspected there would be another Marshall wedding soon, if Rachel got her way. If so, he knew he’d have to keep a watchful eye over the whole situation.

The monitor beeped, and the room suddenly seemed unusually quiet. Gabe took a deep breath. And then another. It had been a long week. Work. Family. Everything was closing in. Of course, he could handle it. He always handled it. But he still felt oddly tired of it all. Maybe it was time he took a vacation.

For the third time in as many days, he wished he had someone to talk to, someone who would understand. Someone who wouldn’t judge who he was and what he did. Someone who would be the balm he needed to soothe his soul. But there was no one.

Gabe looked at Harrison. The man was like a father to him. The truth was, Gabe had always considered Mariella and Harrison to be his real parents. It was Mariella who showed him love and affection. And it was Harrison who had seen promise in him, Harrison who made him believe that he could rise above the situation of his birth and really be something in life. Harrison never treated him as less because he was the child of a drug-addicted mother and nameless father. Gabe remembered when he’d first come to live permanently with them at Casa Cat. He’d been a scared ten-year-old boy, used to being left alone in front of the television, waiting for his careless mother to come home. A mother who was in and out of rehab. A mother who cared little for her child and more about her next high.

Admittedly, she appeared to have cleaned herself up in recent years. Or so he hoped. But Gabe didn’t have the forgiveness in his heart to forget what she had put him through as a young boy. He knew Ana and Mariella had never really gotten along, knew that the younger Santiago had always been jealous of her older sister. Over the years, when she’d been clean and beating her addiction, she’d tried to develop a relationship with him. But his natural cynicism always won out. He didn’t trust Ana. He didn’t believe her motives were pure and truly about their relationship. With Ana, there was always an angle, a payoff. Not money, although he had given her that occasionally, now that she was living off the dregs of her inheritance, but time...attention. Two things that were in short supply in his life.

Growing up, he’d followed Mariella’s lead, keeping Ana at a distance. It was easy when she was using and in and out of rehab facilities. But a sober, cocaine-free Ana was harder to keep at arm’s length. So he saw her very occasionally and put up with her demands on his time and her insistence that he call her Mom when they were together. He wasn’t sure why she wanted that, or why he agreed. Deep down he hated it, and her. Maybe it was some leftover guilt from his childhood. But the truth was, he’d stopped thinking of Ana as his mother a long time ago.

Gabe sighed heavily and pressed his hands to his knees. Maybe his work as the Fixer had solidified his mistrust of everything and everyone. He knew he sometimes came across as moody and closed off. But he was proud of what he had achieved and what he did. As the Fixer, he solved problems. He made things right. Sure, sometimes he skirted the edge of the law, but in the end, he always got results. Thank God the insufferable Luc wasn’t part of MSM Event Planning and he only had to deal with Elana and Rafe on a day-to-day basis. Too many Marshalls in one place would be impossible to handle all the time. Because that’s what Gabe felt was his number-one job—handling the Marshalls, keeping the siblings out of trouble, ensuring he gave Mariella his loyalty and watching Harrison’s back.

“I didn’t do such a great job this time, did I?” he said and ran a weary hand over his face as he stared at the man lying in the bed.

He wished he could turn back the clock. Have a do-over. But he couldn’t. He had to move forward and do the job he was expected to do. The job he was paid to do. Paid so well he felt guilty for taking money when he’d failed to protect Harrison. He had a luxurious condo in the city and a fancy car. But his rooms at the Marshall estate always felt more like home. When he was a kid, he’d been in awe of the luxury of Casa Cat. Tennis court, two swimming pools, stables...to a ten-year-old boy, it was like a palace. In the beginning, he’d kept to himself, wandering the hallways while the boys played outside with their top-of-the-range model airplanes and, later, watching Rafe and Luc ride their ponies from a spot near the stables. It took a year for Gabe to try flying the remote-control aircraft and another six months before he got into the saddle. What he discovered was that he was better at sports than either of the Marshall boys. He passed a football better, flew a plane better and rode a horse as though he’d been born in a saddle. Of course, Luc, older and tougher than Rafe, had hated it, and their rivalry developed almost immediately. School, sports, girls...there was always something to compete for. Years later, he suspected there always would be.

After all of these years, he could read his tía well. He knew she thought Luc might be the Fixer. Strange, he thought, that she hadn’t considered that it was him. Over the past few days, he’d come close to telling her several times. But he’d stopped. He wasn’t sure why he wanted her to know. Recognition, perhaps? To be witnessed and revered for saving the day and being the glue that kept the family together? The more he thought about it, the more pompous and stupid he felt. What did recognition matter when Harrison was lying in a hospital bed? Not one damned iota.

Ensuring that everything that was important to Harrison was still there when he woke up, that’s all that mattered.

Gabe patted the other man’s hand and sucked in a deep breath.

“I swear I’ll find out who did this to you. And then,” he said, his voice dropping an octave as rage and determination coursed through his blood, “I’ll make them pay. I’ll make them wish they’d never been born. I’ll fucking nail the bastard who did this, I promise.”

Chapter Three

Mariella slumped back into the patio chair, crossed her ankles and let out a long breath. She looked at the computer screen in front of her. The figures and columns blurred the more she stared at them. It was a warm day, and the midmorning sun felt good on her shoulders. The pool looking inviting, and she glanced down at her swimsuit and chiffon wrap. Maybe she’d make time for a dip later. It was the first time she’d sat down in hours. Or was it days? With each moment merging into the next, at times it was impossible to tell. The fatigue and weariness coursing through her body made her bones ache. But she couldn’t sleep. There was too much going on. Too much to do. She had a business to run and a wedding to plan and family to keep together.

Thank goodness she had Gabe to rely on. He really was a godsend. He picked up the slack when she veered off course. He kept her informed about the accident investigation that the police were still treating as suspicious, and she knew he spent as much time at Harrison’s bedside as he could. Certainly more than their biological children did. Not that she blamed them...watching their father look so helpless would be hard.

But she needed to stay focused; she needed to take her mind off the chaos of the past weeks. Most of the morning she’d spent on the telephone, speaking with one medical specialist after another, looking for something or someone to give her hope. Even without Dr. Malone constantly reminding her of the fact, Mariella knew that the longer Harrison lay unconscious, the more the chances of him recovering withered. And she didn’t want to lose him. She didn’t want to live her life without her husband. True, Harrison could be cold and unfeeling at times. And yes, he often spent more time worrying about his business than their relationship. It had been evident from the beginning that he took her loyalty and devotion for granted. But she loved him and knew he loved her, and she wanted him by her side, working their business, raising their children as they’d always done. One day, God willing, they’d be grandparents, and she wanted to have her husband at her side to share those moments.

Of course, first she had to get Elana to the altar!

She knew Elana had doubts, but she didn’t understand it. Thom was a good man. Maybe a little weak, but not in a womanizing, bad businessman kind of way. He was smart and successful and came from a good family...exactly the kind of family that would make a solid merger with the Marshalls. A real estate family. It was good business and what Harrison wanted. So Mariella would make sure Elana did her duty and married Thom. Still, she couldn’t help remembering the way Thom had behaved at the engagement party...not like a man eager to marry the woman he loved. But she had Gabe’s assurance that the media fallout from the party had waned, and now the gossip-hungry public seemed more interested in Elana’s Paris trip. Which was good news.

Sure, Mariella knew it wasn’t exactly a love match. Thom and Elana had been friends longer than they had been lovers. But she believed that friendship was a solid foundation for a successful marriage. Lust and passion faded. Common beliefs and respect mattered more than what occurred between the sheets. Once she was married, Mariella was convinced, Elana would forget all about her silly infatuation with the movie producer. Of course, Mariella suspected her daughter still hadn’t ended things with Jarrod Jones despite being told time and again to do so. But she’d make sure she did. She made it her business to keep tabs on her children. Like Luc and that bratty socialite who’d maneuvered her way into his bed. Her eldest son sometimes showed poor judgment when it came to women. And she suspected that when it came to Rachel, Luc was at the mercy of his body parts below the belt. Certainly, Rachel checked a lot of boxes for a suitable daughter-in-law...but Mariella simply couldn’t take to the girl. She was a little too beautiful, a little too calculating, a little too eager to marry herself a rich, good-looking doctor. But she was also from a high-profile political family. And that had its advantages.

Mariella didn’t have time to worry about that now...she had Elana’s wedding to organize. Yes, she was determined that her daughter would settle down with Thom, raise a family and show the world that she was Marshall with all the Marshall pride and dignity.

Mariella pushed the laptop away and rolled out her shoulders. A massage would be nice, she thought. Something to ease the tension coursing through her system. She grabbed her phone and sent a brief text to her masseuse, asking for the earliest appointment. The cell pinged moments later with a time that afternoon, and she relaxed just a little. It was exactly what she needed and gave her time to sort through emails and her schedule for the next few days. And to work out how to ensure she got Elana to commit to Thom.

She hadn’t heard from Elana or Rafe since they’d landed in Paris, but at least she knew where Elana was and knew that Rafe wouldn’t allow his sister to get into any kind of trouble. She’d seen the tabloids that morning, showing photographs of her two youngest children at a café, laughing and clearly enjoying one another’s company. And she’d kept tabs on Elana’s social media accounts. Everything seemed fine. Plus, Mariella could always depend on her youngest son to keep Elana safe. He was the child of her heart. More like her than either Luc or Elana. Softer. Kinder. A gentle soul. Harrison didn’t understand him. Or approve of his lifestyle. But Mariella knew that Rafe was the most grounded of her children, the one she could rely on, the one who would always do the right thing. He was brilliant and creative, and she was immensely proud of the man he had become.

Maybe in some ways she did favor him above the others, but she couldn’t help it. Rafe wasn’t prone to tantrums like Elana or to arrogant outbursts like Luc. He never asked for anything. He earned his own way and lived his life honestly. Harrison thought him weak, but Mariella knew the truth was the complete opposite. It had taken strength and courage to come out to them when he was younger. He could have hidden his sexuality and not been true to himself. But her beautiful son had wanted more than that. He’d plowed through the gossip and lurid tabloid assassinations and, worse, his father’s disapproval, to live an authentic life. And she was immensely proud of him and all he had achieved. She hoped that one day Rafe would find someone to share his life with...someone solid and trustworthy and not like that despicable chef who’d broken his heart. Ironically, that’s when she’d realized that Harrison would still protect their son, despite his disapproval of Rafe’s life choices. The chef had been spirited away to Paris, away from the tabloids and her son, and Mariella suspected Harrison had played a part in that.

Obviously, the Fixer was involved, too. It made perfect sense. And made her lingering suspicions that Luc was somehow a part of it all curdle around in her subconscious. Luc had the means, the money and the contacts to be part of such a scheme. Luc would do whatever was necessary to garner his father’s approval. And he would often scurry into Harrison’s office to talk to his dad alone. Secret meetings and secret discussions. Luc had the backbone needed to be part of such a thing. He was his father’s son, after all.

His father’s son...

Memories, as fresh and clear as though they were yesterday, filled her heart. Like a movie camera in reverse, she was taken back in time, to another place, another life, to a love that held the promise of hope and youthful dreams. But in an instant, the memory was gone. Mariella blinked the heat from her eyes. She’d stopped crying decades ago. Tears were for fools. The past few weeks, she’d forgotten that a few times and let weakness slip out.

“I need to concentrate on work,” she said out loud and sighed heavily.

But with the business growing weekly, Harrison’s condition and the upcoming wedding, a vacation wasn’t in the cards in the near future. And the telephone hadn’t stopped ringing for over a week. There were emails to respond to, appointments to make and plans to put into action. Since the engagement party, MSM Event Planning, the catering arm of Marshall International, had gained several new and influential clients. Clients that were too important to put off or reschedule. Instead, Mariella was determined that business would go ahead as usual. The restaurants would function as smoothly and profitably as always, and the catering area would continue to grow and develop. Just as Harrison had planned. And it would all be there for him when he woke up.

Having strength was hard. And exhausting. That’s why she felt as though she could sleep for a week. Keeping up appearances took a heavy toll. And when she was home alone, she didn’t have to pretend. She didn’t have to kid herself that everything would be okay. If Harrison didn’t wake up, nothing would ever be okay again. She would lose her husband. Half of herself. And she wasn’t sure how she would cope with that. Grief, sharp and intense, worked its way through her blood and across her skin and then pinched sharply behind her ribs. Maybe losing someone to death was easier. This...this middle road...asleep but awake...it was the worst kind of torture.

And she knew Harrison would hate being at the mercy of machines and doctors and round-the-clock care. He was a proud, strong man. Her man. Her husband. And she wanted him back.

Mariella was just about to begin answering emails when Vanessa appeared through the patio doors, carrying a tray of drinks. Mariella stretched out her back and looked toward the other woman as she approached.

“I thought you might need this,” the younger woman said and placed the tray on the table.

Mariella eyed the pitcher of ice water and the frosted tumbler. Mint sprigs and fresh blueberries bobbed around in the water, which normally would have quenched her thirst. But today...today she needed something else. Something stronger.

“Gin and tonic is what I need,” Mariella said and waved a dismissive hand. “Go easy on the tonic.”

She caught Vanessa’s odd, almost disapproving look and guessed that the housekeeper was thinking about how it was barely past ten o’clock in the morning. It irked her and then made her angry. Well, to hell with disapproval from the help. She wanted a drink. End of story.

“Oh,” Vanessa said and stepped back. “Okay.”

“Leave that,” Mariella snapped when the housekeeper moved to collect the tray. “Just get me a drink,” she said and then realized how abrupt she sounded. “Please. Change the gin and tonic to sangria instead,” she said and managed a smile. “It’s a little more civilized for this hour of the day.”

“Certainly, Mrs. Santiago-Marshall,” Vanessa said, nodding as she turned on her heels and walked toward the house.

Mariella watched as the younger woman left the patio, and her annoyance quickly subsided when she saw Joe Reynolds pass Vanessa in the doorway. She hadn’t been expecting him, but it was a lovely surprise. And exactly what she needed. He was now talking to Vanessa, and they both nodded. Then Mariella saw Vanessa smile, and she wondered for a moment if Joe was flirting with her housekeeper. But, no, Joe wasn’t that kind of man. He would never fool around with someone young enough to be his daughter. As he walked toward her, smiling that lovely smile of his, she put those thoughts out of her head. Joe was one of the good guys. Harrison’s friend. My friend. Even if, sometimes, she secretly thought he watched her with a kind of seductive, masculine interest. It was foolish. Stupid. Joe didn’t look at her like that. And she didn’t want him to.

“Hey there,” Joe said and came around the table, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

Mariella looked him over. His craggy but still handsome face always made her smile. Joe was one of those men with a kind of natural, easygoing manner that seemed to ooze strength and integrity. People trusted Joe. Mariella knew she could count on him. They’d been friends a long time, and he was always there with a word of wisdom or a shoulder to cry on.

And he had nice shoulders, she noticed, not for the first time. Broad and strong. He looked fit and masculine and had a kind of outdoorsy appearance. As though he would be at ease in the boardroom as well as reeling in a marlin off the edge of a fishing boat or scaling a cliff face without a rope.

“Hi,” she said and smiled a little. “I didn’t expect to see you today.”

He shrugged. “I thought I’d drop by. Is that okay?”

She nodded. “Of course. I’m always happy to see you.”

“You don’t look happy,” he said boldly. “You have that funny crease between your eyebrows...you know, the one you get when you’ve been overthinking things.”

Mariella automatically rubbed a finger between her brows. “What crease?”

He chuckled. “Tough day, huh?”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Not especially.”

“Liar.”

Mariella inhaled deeply. “I’m fine. I’m coping.”

“I don’t think so.”

She closed the laptop and glared at him. “Did you come here today to make me feel bad?”

“Not at all,” Joe said. “Quite the opposite. I’m just concerned about you.”

“Dios mío, I’m not some delicate flower.”

Joe reached across and touched her hand, covering her fingers with his own. Mariella felt the connection deep down and quickly met his gaze. “I know you’re not. I know you’re strong and resilient.”

Emotion clawed at her throat. Suddenly she didn’t feel strong. Or resilient. She felt like crying her eyes out. She felt like she was at the breaking point. She also felt like falling into Joe’s arms. She felt like forgetting all her troubles...even for a moment. And it shocked her.

“It’s been a hard few weeks. With the accident and then my sons fighting outside the hospital and of course the engagement party. Thom’s aborted speech got tongues wagging. The gossip bloggers have been all over it.”

He nodded. “I know, but it seems to have settled down now. How’s Elana?”

“Still in Paris with Rafe.” She shrugged, looking to where their hands were pressed together. “Sometimes I’m not convinced that the wedding will actually happen.”

“It will,” he assured her. “Thom and Elana are good for each other. He balances her out. I think it will work for them both.”

“I hope so,” Mariella said. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep up this facade of having everything under control. To tell you the truth, I feel like such a fraud.”

“You know,” Joe said tenderly, rubbing his thumb along her forefinger, “you never need to hide your feelings from me, Mariella. Not ever.”

Emotion filled her blood. His words did something to her, deep inside. They soothed her. Confused her. Alarmed her. She couldn’t pinpoint her feelings. Or understand them. This was Joe. Her friend. Maybe her best friend. The one constant in her life for so many years. When other friends came and went, Joe was always there. Harrison’s business partner, for sure. But more than that. A confidant.

“I know I don’t.”

“I miss him, too.”

The heat in her throat intensified. She wasn’t prepared for this today. She had deliberately immersed herself in work to avoid thinking about how she truly felt about what was really happening in her world. No one and nothing had broken through her walls. Not her children, not the nosy journalists harassing her at every opportunity or the people she’d always considered her friends and who were now strangely absent from her life. Oh, they called, but Mariella suspected their motives weren’t entirely pure. A snippet of gossip was worth a lot in the tabloids. And friends, she discovered, could quickly disappear when there was a dollar to be made.

Except for Joe Reynolds.

He was a rock. Loyal and principled. And incorruptible when it came to being swayed by money or power.

“I know you miss him,” she said quietly.

He nodded. “I’m here for you. I’ve always been here for you. I always will be.”

“I know that, too.” She sighed heavily, taking comfort from the way his fingers continued to move over hers. “I keep thinking that this is a terrible nightmare that I need to wake up from.”

He caressed her wrist gently. “It is a nightmare. But not one that you have to endure alone.”

“I don’t feel alone right now,” she admitted.

“Good,” he said. “I’m glad.”

“I just need to stay busy,” she told him and pointed to the computer. “The business still needs to run.”

“You know I’ll hold up my end of things, Mariella,” he assured her. “Always. For Harrison...and for you.”

She nodded. “I know you will. And I appreciate the support. It would be all too easy to give up.”

“I know what you mean,” he admitted. “Tell me, are you sleeping?”

She shook her head. “Not much. Too many dreams.”

“Same.” He ran his free hand through his thick hair. “Sometimes I wish I could sleep through this whole thing.”

“Me too.” She managed a small, ironic smile. “But since my husband isn’t awake, I don’t allow myself to think that for too long.”

Joe nodded, still stroking her skin. “So the doctors haven’t offered any more news?”

She shook her head. “I’ve been dealing with specialists for days. Each one tells me something different from the last. Try this. Do that. Take him there. Leave him where he is.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “Honestly, I don’t know what to do.”

“I wish I could bring him back for you,” he said raggedly.

Mariella blinked the heat from her eyes. “Me too.”

“But I know I can’t,” he said and circled her wrist with his long fingers, stroking, making goose bumps across her skin. “I feel so freaking helpless. And I’m sorry the doctors haven’t been able to offer any solutions...or...”

“Hope?” she finished for him and nodded a little. “Hope is all I have.”

“Not all,” he said gently. “You have me.”

Mariella’s throat tightened. “Thank you.”

“If only I could do something to help.”

“You’re helping now,” she said and smiled. “More than you know. And you shouldn’t blame yourself, Joe.”

“I can’t help it,” he said. “I should have sensed that something wasn’t right. If Harrison has enemies, if someone forced him off the road and caused the accident, then as his friend and partner, I should have seen this coming. I should have known he was in trouble.”

“You don’t have a crystal ball. None of us do.” She sighed. “And honestly, if anyone is at fault, it’s me.”

“You?”

She shrugged. “I’m Harrison’s wife. The mother of his children. Closer to him than anyone else. And I didn’t sense anything different about him. If he was in trouble, he wasn’t talking about it.”

He didn’t look convinced. “I should have known. Maybe if I hadn’t been so wrapped up in other things I would have been prepared. I could have fixed this and—”

Mariella pulled her hand away instantly. I could have fixed this. Her suspicions surged, and she got to her feet, pulling her wrap around her waist. Alarm bells pealed. Could it be true? Was it as obvious as this? Was Joe the Fixer?

She glared at him, and he looked bewildered. “What?” he asked and stood up slowly.

“Exactly. What?”

Joe took a step around the table, and she immediately backed up. “Mariella?”

“Are you the Fixer?”

He shook his head and then laughed a little. “Of course not.”

“But you said...”

“I meant I should have seen this coming, that’s all,” he assured her. “I’m not the Fixer.”

“Then who is?” she demanded. “And why can’t you find out? We have the paper trail, the bank accounts, the proof of money changing hands. The evidence is there. All we need is a name, and once we get that name, I’m certain it will lead us to whoever is responsible for my husband’s accident.”

“You’re convinced there is a link?” he asked quietly.

She nodded. “Absolutely. And I need to know. A part of me is so angry with Harrison for being a part of all this and putting us at risk. I feel as though the Fixer is somehow involved in the accident. I’m not sure how, but I feel it.”

“Maybe Harrison’s involvement is more about wanting to protect the family rather than hurt it?”

“Always his greatest advocate,” she said, her tone brittle. “Even when he’s not here. The truth is, I have no idea what my husband’s role is in all this, but I will find out the truth.”

“And I’ll help you if I can.”

Mariella wasn’t quite sure she believed him. There was a sudden uneasiness in Joe’s demeanor. She noticed that he didn’t look right—he looked out of sorts, as though he had some great burden pressing down on his shoulders. He’d assured her that he wasn’t the Fixer. If not that, then what was shaking him up so much?

“What’s wrong, Joe?” she demanded. “Why do you look so...so...odd?”

He swallowed hard, and Mariella watched, mesmerized as his strong throat moved. His eyes were burning into hers, his expression suddenly unreadable. Something was going on. Something big.

“Joe,” she said again. “What is it? What are you thinking?” It occurred to her that he might know more than he was letting on. “Do you know who tried to kill my husband?”

He shook his head and stepped closer. “No.”

“Then what is it?”

His attention was unwavering. Had a man ever looked at her with such scorching intensity before? He was close, barely a foot away from her. The air between them was burning up.

“Don’t you know, Mariella?”

She didn’t know what to think, what to feel. What to say.

Mariella took another tiny stride backward and found herself backed up against a pillar. Her wrap flapped open, and she watched as Joe’s gaze flittered over her, suddenly lingering on her breasts as her chest rose up and down. She noticed his cheeks were slashed with color and his hands were balled into fists. And he was breathing hard. Harder than she’d ever noticed before. And he looked as though simply staring at her caused him a kind of gut-wrenching agony. He’d seen her in a swimsuit countless times. But this was different. This felt different. Her skin prickled instinctively, and she shuddered, not from fear, but something else.

Awareness.

Attraction.

Desire.

Realization coursed through her blood, heated her skin and forced her to admit something that had been simmering beneath the surface for a long time.

She was attracted to Joe.

And it was mutual.

Without thinking, she reached up and laid her hand on his arm. He was burning, on fire. Even through the fabric of his shirt, she could feel the heat generated from his skin. Mariella met his gaze instantly. And saw longing.

He groaned, as though the sound was pulled from somewhere deep within his chest, and Mariella was lost. And then, suddenly, she was against him, breast to chest, hip to hip. His arms came around her, and within seconds he found her mouth. He kissed her, hard, as though he was trying to exorcise her from his thoughts...his very soul. And Mariella kissed him back. She’d forgotten this kind of kissing. It had been so long since any man had captured her lips in such an urgent, possessive way. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, and she accepted it greedily. Mariella clutched his shoulders in a frantic effort to get closer to him. He touched her breast, rubbing his thumb across her nipple, and the sensitive bud tightened instantly, sending a quick and hot message to her brain and then swiftly to the place between her thighs. His tongue felt so good against her own, moving around her mouth with a kind of erotic expertise that quickly drugged her senseless. All coherent thoughts were forgotten. Nothing mattered. Just Joe. Just his tongue in her mouth and his hand on her breast, his thumb doing insane things to her nipple. Every part of her was on fire, lit from within, suddenly more alive than she could ever remember being. She’d forgotten this feeling. She’d pushed it deep into a part of herself where passion and desire didn’t exist. She was a mother and a wife. But in that moment, she felt like a lover. He was rock hard against her, pressing his arousal into her belly, making her mindless with need.

“I want you,” he muttered against her lips as the kissing went on and on. “I want you so much,” he said, dragging air into his lungs as he kissed her jaw and her neck and the insanely sensitive spot below her ear. He sucked on her lobe, whispering, grinding closer, and Mariella wrapped her arms around his waist. She threw her head back, and he moved lower, pushing aside her bikini top, and then his mouth closed over one straining, aching nipple. Sensation arrowed directly between her thighs as he suckled the tender flesh. She’d forgotten that heat, that need, that feeling that told her there was more to be had. Much more. All she could want. He moved back up, kissing, nipping, licking her skin.

“I’m crazy for you,” he admitted. “I want you so much.”

Mariella groaned as his tongue thrust between her teeth, pressing closer, feeling him grow harder, wanting him with an intensity that was suddenly terrifying. “I want you, too.”

And then, as though her capitulation had somehow switched on a light inside him, Joe heaved his mouth from hers and staggered back, dragging deep breaths into his lungs.

Mariella sagged against the pillar, staring at him, wild-eyed and confused. Her lips throbbed, her breasts were hard, her nipples peaked and aching for his touch, and there was a heat between her thighs that she hadn’t felt since forever. But he took another step back. And then another. And another. And then he turned, moving toward the edge of the pool, his broad shoulders moving up and down jerkily. She quickly pulled the bikini top back into place and grabbed the edges of her wrap, covering herself. Her entire body was on fire, and her knees felt so weak she could barely stand. All she wanted was to go to him, to help alleviate the ethical crisis he was clearly experiencing.

But she didn’t. She stayed where she was and waited for Joe to speak. But a moment later, Vanessa returned to the patio carrying a pitcher of sangria. Were her housekeeper’s hands shaking? Mariella couldn’t be sure. Had she seen them? Mariella hoped not. Vanessa had always proven to be discreet, but the last thing she wanted was anyone witnessing what she and Joe had just been doing in broad daylight. Once the other woman hurriedly disappeared, Mariella found the strength in her legs to walk toward the pool. Joe turned before she reached him. He was pale, stricken.

“God forgive me,” he said raggedly.

Mariella reached out and put a finger to his lips. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t be sorry.”

He grabbed her hand and held it against his chest, and she felt him trembling. “I’m gonna go straight to hell for this.”

“Maybe,” she said and moved closer. “But I’ll go with you.”

And then she was in his arms again and his lips were on hers and his tongue was thrusting into her mouth and his hips were grinding into hers. And, suddenly, nothing else mattered.

* * *

Nora tapped her long, perfectly manicured red nails across the screen and stared at the photograph. Tabloid photos were often grainy and indistinguishable. But she knew what she was looking at. And whom.

Harrison’s children.

The two youngest. Dining out at one of her favorite Paris restaurants. Laughing. Looking as though they didn’t have a care in the world.

She studied them for a few moments and noticed their similarities. Both had brown eyes. Harrison had blue. They both had the same jawline, the same arched brows. Harrison certainly produced handsome children.

The notion made her instinctively touch her belly.

If her baby looked like either of them, then she’d be happy.

She couldn’t help wondering if Harrison would be joining his children soon. She knew how much he adored Paris. And from all accounts, he would be out of the private clinic and back on his feet very soon. The interview she’d watched made it clear he was doing well. She’d called the hospital, but they refused to tell her anything. She wasn’t family, she wasn’t going to be told anything. But she suspected he’d be transferred to a private clinic. Somewhere expensive and discreet. Because, of course, the Marshalls could afford the very best. And that fiery Latina he was married to would demand everything her own way, so Harrison’s swift recovery was a given. But she missed him desperately. And was mad at him, too. She wasn’t the sort of woman used to being discarded. But he had...he’d dumped her well and truly.

“I am with child,” she whispered.

Harrison slowly lowered the paper from in front of his face. “What?” His face hardened. “This can’t happen.” He pointed a finger at her that could have easily been a knife. “It won’t happen.” He didn’t say another word. He picked up his jacket from the back of the chair and brushed by her.

“Harrison...”

He kept walking to the door.

He never looked back.

The memory of his parting words still stung.

She rubbed her stomach.

She was having a baby. Harrison’s baby.

Nora looked at the photograph again and smiled to herself. She knew how much Harrison loved his children. He’d told her countless times that they were the most important thing in the world to him.

And you will be, too, mon bébé.

I promise.

She reread the article. So, the Marshall kids were heading back home in two days. She quickly considered her options and came up with only one.

It was time she reminded Harrison Marshall that he was definitely going to be a papa again.

Chapter Four

Casa Cat wasn’t the same without his father there. Even when Luc was away at college and then medical school, he’d loved coming home. Of course, there were good times as well as many arguments. But although his dad had supported his desire to go to medical school and encouraged him to find his own passion, he knew the older man was disappointed. With Rafe being more creative than he was business focused, it had fallen onto Gabe’s shoulders to become the heir apparent. Part of Luc resented his cousin, while another part was eternally grateful. Not that he’d ever tell him that. Gabriel Santiago was an arrogant, moody pain in the ass. His best friend who had become his greatest rival. Now they barely tolerated each other. He put up with seeing Gabe when he visited his parents, and that was all the involvement he needed or wanted.

He got out of his Mercedes-AMG, beeped the lock device and headed for the front door. He was about to open up when the door opened and there she was.

Vanessa...

The one woman he wanted. The one woman who kept him at arm’s length.

They’d met the first day she’d started working at Casa Cat. Luc had just arrived back in California after a stint working with Doctors Without Borders and it had been a particularly challenging couple of months. Even though he did find the work fulfilling, it always took him a few days to recharge after such a trip, so he’d decided to spend a few days at the estate instead of returning immediately to his plush apartment in L.A.

Dropping his bags in the hall, he’d bounded up the stairs to shower off the travel grime and change and had collided with Vanessa on the landing. She’d been carrying a basket of laundry that had tumbled from her grasp and Luc made a clumsy attempt to help her, which had only made things worse. The clothes ended up at her feet and as she bent down to retrieve the garments he had the same idea and their heads had collided. For a second he saw stars and she swore...loudly. The kind of curse that he didn’t expect to hear from the new housekeeper. Not that she looked like any kind of housekeeper he’d seen before. She was so damned beautiful she took his breath away. Brown hair, caramel-colored eyes, incredible curves.

And a potty mouth to beat even his own.

He couldn’t help but laugh. And then she was laughing. It had been such a relief to just feel so easy with someone... And as he quickly started to help her pick up and refold the laundry, blaming himself for the mess, she put him off, trying to take the blame. And moments later he laughed again when she mistook him for another of the hired help. But he supposed that in his creased cargo pants, rumpled shirt, sleep deprived eyes and airplane hair, he probably didn’t look like he belonged in any of the upstairs rooms. He didn’t correct her mistake though, because he wanted to hear her lovely laugh again and suspected she would clam up the moment she realized who he was.

But then several minutes later he slipped, suggesting that he grab some fresh towels from the refolded pile and put them in his room.

“Your room?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Just who do you think you are? One of the Marshalls?”

“Actually, yes. I’m Luc, the older son,” he said with a grin. “It’s nice to—”

Before Luc could finish his sentence, she’d gotten to her feet, brushed off the skirt of her uniform and practically jumped back six paces. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Marshall. I didn’t mean to take up your time. I’ll finish cleaning up these things and get out of your way.”

No matter what he tried to say to recapture the relaxed conversation they’d just shared, she was horrified and apologetic and moments later, she raced off, laundry basket in hand. But like a damned bolt of lightning, Luc had been struck. He was a goner.

He’d been surrounded by beautiful women all of his life, but none had ever been able to compare to Vanessa, the most intoxicating woman he’d ever met.

And it confused him. Luc thought he knew women. And believed he saw something in Vanessa’s eyes that indicated she was as aware of him as he was of her. Even in that damned ugly housekeeper’s uniform his mother insisted the staff wear, Vanessa looked beautiful, almost...regal.

He couldn’t help the way he felt about her. Sure, he wanted her, but it was more than that. He’d never shared laughter so easily with any woman before, and he longed to be with her again, to be able to talk and laugh with someone who seemed to really get him.

Yes, Rachel was also beautiful and well connected and would make him a good wife, but...something was missing. He didn’t love Rachel. He desired her. He enjoyed sex with her. He found her amusing and liked her company. But his heart wasn’t invested in their relationship.

Because his heart was wrapped up in the woman in front of him.

And now, she’d called. After saying she wouldn’t.

“Hi, Vanessa,” he said and smiled. “I left as soon as I got your message.”

She nodded and opened the door wider. “Thanks for coming.”

“Everything okay?”

“Of course.”

Luc’s body trembled with the need to get closer to her. She smelled so good. Like lavender. Not like the expensive perfume Rachel used. Vanessa was a natural beauty. Perfect in every way. “Anyone else around?”

She looked around nervously as he stepped into the hall. “Please keep your voice down.”

“Why...what’s going on?”

“Nothing... I just—”

Luc took a step forward and grasped her hand, drawing her close. “Vanessa...what’s wrong?”

She pulled her hand from his and stepped back. “Nothing, like I said. And please don’t do that.”

“I can’t help it,” Luc admitted and grinned, stupidly happy that she’d called him. “I’m so glad to see you.”

She looked over her shoulder and then frowned. “Luc, I called because I needed to talk to you. I said it was important.” She took a long breath. “I didn’t say it was about us.”

Us...

God, he wished there was an us. But she fought him at every turn. Deep down, he knew her excuses were all too valid. She worked for his parents. It wouldn’t be right. She might lose her job. Luc had heard all her reasons. Only a fool would keep pining for her. But something kept dragging him back to her. Something he couldn’t quite define. He only knew he had to wait. Vanessa was worth waiting for.

“Then why am I here?”

“We need to talk.”

“So you said,” he shot back. “Just not about us. I don’t get it, Vanessa...what is this about?”

She looked around again and then motioned for him to follow her down the hall. She entered the front living room, ushered him inside and then quietly closed the door.

“We shouldn’t be disturbed in here.”

“Why all the secrecy?” he asked.

“I need to tell you something,” she replied.

Dread licked up his spine. “Are you leaving? Is that what this is about? Because if you are, I think that’s a damned great idea.” He snapped his fingers. “Leave and come and live with me.”

Her dark brows shot up instantly. “Won’t your fiancée have something to say about that?”

“I’m not engaged,” he stressed, moving a little closer. “And I would ditch Rachel in a heartbeat if you would agree to be with me.”

She shook her beautiful head. “You’re such an asshole, Luc.”

He laughed softly. “Maybe...but I’m an asshole who is crazy about you.”

She stepped back. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” he quipped. “I know you’re beautiful and too smart to be wearing that damned ugly uniform and doing my family’s bidding. I hate seeing you clean and be treated like a freaking servant.”

Her mouth twisted. “I like my job, and if you weren’t such an arrogant, ungrateful and spoiled snob, you’d know you shouldn’t insult people about their work. I’m proud of what I do. It’s honest work, and I won’t have you make me feel inferior because I—”

“Inferior?” he echoed, realizing he’d made a mess of things...again. “I didn’t mean that. I meant the opposite. I meant that you deserve more—you deserve better. You deserve to be showered in jewelry and clothes and made to feel like a princess.”

“In an ivory tower?” She shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m not the princess type. Now, can we forget we’ve had this conversation? I didn’t ask you here to rehash the same old issue about you and me. There is no you and me...you got that?”

“If I promise to stop being such an arrogant asshole, will you change your mind?”

She shook her head. “No. And don’t ask me why. Just accept that it’s better this way.”

“I can’t,” he said and moved a few steps closer. “Is there someone else?”

For a moment he longed for her to say that there was. At least he would have an answer. A real reason. She shook her head. “Please, Luc. It’s never going to happen.”

“Because you’re scared,” he said and saw her tremble and then ached inside because all he wanted to do was hold her close. “I know you’re scared. So am I. I know I’m meant to marry a politician’s daughter and have a bunch of kids. But it’s not what I want, Vanessa. I want you. Only you.”

“No,” she said and took a deep breath.

“I don’t care what people think, or what’s expected of me,” he said, sensing she was hurting and knowing there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. “I had to fight my father’s wishes to become a doctor because it was expected that I’d join the family business. I nearly broke my neck playing polo a dozen times in high school because it’s what my family wanted. I learned to sail even though I hate the damned water because it’s what my family wanted, and I’m with someone who isn’t the love of my life but she’s the kind of woman who will fit in with my family’s expectations. And unless I’m saved from myself, I’ll marry her and only dream of what could have been.” He stepped closer and grabbed her hands, holding them firm within his own. “So, save me, Vanessa. Save me from myself. Please.”

She trembled and faltered on her feet, and for a microsecond Luc thought he would finally have her in his arms, that he would finally be allowed to kiss her beautiful mouth and feel her lovely curves pressed against him. But she didn’t. She swayed a little more, took a short, sharp breath and then wrenched her hands free, stepping back, putting space between them.

He watched as she walked toward the long window, her hair pulled back in a bun low on her nape, her arms wrapped around her waist. Was something seriously wrong? Was she having troubles working at Casa Cat? Was she being mistreated? Not by his mother, surely? And the rest of the staff all seemed respectable and hardworking. Even Eli, the groundskeeper, who could be a little temperamental, had always appeared to show Vanessa respect. But if something had changed—if she was in trouble—he wanted to know. He’d demand to know!

“Vanessa...what is it? What can I do to help?”

When she turned back, there was an odd coldness in her expression. And then she whispered words he had never imagined he would hear.

“I think your mother is having an affair with Joe Reynolds.”

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