Tempting The Texan. Maureen Child
looked good, too. Even better, somehow, than he had so long ago. He wore that elegantly cut suit the way a medieval knight might wear his armor. He was powerful, strong, gorgeous. All things dangerous. His dark brown hair was still kept short—he thought it efficient—and like always, he had a day or two’s growth of beard on his face. The scruff of whiskers reminded her of how that stubble alternately tickled and scratched her skin.
The flash in Kel’s blue eyes had disarmed her. She had read heat there and remembered the fire that had consumed them both whenever they touched. She remembered long nights, with the Christmas tree lights the only illumination in the room. She remembered lazy dawns, wrapped in each other’s arms before she was forced to get up and go to work as a maid in the big house.
In fact, Irina remembered all of it as if that week with him were burned into her brain.
Back then, she’d convinced herself she was living a fairy tale. The oldest son in a dynasty, falling in love with a maid in his father’s house. But the fairy tale ended with a whimper when Kellan left Texas. There were no letters, no calls and, apparently, no regrets. Then Irina was alone again with empty dreams and a broken heart.
She’d long suspected Buck had known about what had gone on between her and his oldest son. The older man had been especially kind to her when Kellan left town. And that kindness—like everything else Buck had done for her—was something she could never repay. It had taken her a long time to find her way again and she had no intention of allowing herself to slide back down into darkness. Kellan was here, but wouldn’t be for long. Her life was in Royal. Her future was one she would build for herself.
“I don’t need Kellan,” she said aloud, more to strengthen her resolve than anything. “I’ve built my own life now. Without him.”
Irina wasn’t the same woman she had been when she and Kellan were together so briefly—and memorably. She’d been to college. She was in law school now and she was a budding author. She’d grown and taken care of herself and she wouldn’t be drawn back into an affair with a man who didn’t value her.
It didn’t matter that one look at him had undone seven years of self-discipline. She could be strong. All she had to do was keep her distance. A few miles would probably do the trick.
“All right,” she said quietly, lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders. “I can do this. Get dressed. Talk to Kellan. And then this time I will be the one to say goodbye.”
Lulu Shepard took a good look at Main Street. She wasn’t ready to admit this on camera yet, but she actually liked Royal, Texas. The people were nice; their hotel, the Bellamy, was luxurious and the town made a nice change from Manhattan. People were so friendly, too. Not like Manhattan, where you could probably bleed from an artery and go unnoticed.
She hadn’t been sure about coming to Royal with Miranda and the rest of the cast of their reality show. But Lulu was really enjoying herself. And she really loved all of the Christmas decorations. Every light pole on the street was wrapped in garland, banners proclaiming Have a Royal Christmas were strung across the street and every tree and shop front was glittering with tiny white lights.
“Afternoon,” a tall cowboy with a wicked smile said as he passed, tipping his hat.
“Well, helloooo.” Lulu turned to admire the man from the rear and had to admit that view was pretty good, too.
Oh, there were so many delicious opportunities to get into a little trouble while they were in Royal. If she and Serafina couldn’t find a way to shake this town up a little, then Lulu didn’t know who could.
She wore a black knit tunic sweater with black tights and black ankle boots with a three-inch heel. Her bright red overcoat swung around her knees with every step and she grinned for no particular reason.
“There’s just something about a small town, don’t you think, Fee?”
Her best friend, Seraphina Martinez, whirled around, letting her long forest green coat swing in the wind. She, too, was wearing New York black, but for her coat. Her long brown hair was perfectly styled and lifted in the wind. Her brown eyes were shining when she smiled. “You know, I didn’t think I’d like it, but I do. It’s sort of like a movie set—only real.” Then she sent a glance at the camera crew following them. “Come on, guys, we’ve got some shopping to do. Let’s show America how small-town Texas lives.”
Lulu laughed and fell into line behind her friend and the other members of the Secret Lives of NYC Ex-Wives cast. Zooey Kostas, sweet and vulnerable, was always on the lookout for her next ex. Rafaela Marchesi was never afraid to toss one of her friends under the bus as long as it earned her a few more minutes of screen time. Then there was Seraphina, the take-charge woman in their little group. Fee had a great laugh and a huge heart. And Miranda was the last—sort of a mother-bear kind of woman, which didn’t earn her a lot of time on the show, since as their producer was forever saying, “Scandal sells.”
But when Miranda DuPree had announced she was coming to Royal for a funeral, the powers that be at the network had decided it would be a great idea for the whole cast to go along.
Though she liked Miranda a lot, Lulu hadn’t thought much of the idea at first. Now she couldn’t imagine why. An icy wind lifted a lock of her thick black hair and tossed it across her eyes. She plucked it free, grinned and hurried her steps to catch up with Fee. There were so many new and interesting shops waiting.
Kellan had one hand planted on the mantel and was staring at a blazing fire in the stone hearth when he heard her come into the room. Hell, she moved so quietly maybe he had just sensed her.
He turned to face her and his breath caught in his chest. Seven years since he’d last seen her and every cell in his body was responding to her presence. Time, it seemed, hadn’t cooled off what he felt for her. Damn it.
“What are you doing here, Kellan?”
That voice tugged at his insides and awakened even more memories that had been asleep until that moment. Not good. He’d once walked away from her because he felt he had to. He’d had nothing to offer her then and nothing had changed since. He had to stay cool, keep his distance.
But she was looking at him with a carefully banked fury he’d never seen before. And for some damn reason, that put him on the defensive.
“This is still Blackwood Hollow,” he said tightly. “I’m a Blackwood. I don’t have to explain why I’m in the house I grew up in.”
“You don’t live here anymore,” she reminded him.
Tipping his head to one side, he narrowed his gaze on her. “Yeah. But I didn’t know you were still living here.”
“Not surprising,” she pointed out. “You haven’t been back in this house for seven years.”
A jab, well aimed. Kellan had avoided this house like it was haunted. And maybe, he thought now, it was. Ghosts of his childhood, memories of his mother. But mostly, it was the memories of his week with Irina that plagued him. Being in this house made those ghostly images in his mind more real. More corporeal. As if he could reach out and touch them, bring back those moments in time to relive at his leisure.
His gaze swept her up and down in a blink of an eye, taking in everything, missing nothing. Her long, wavy hair was still damp, but now she wore a loose-fitting yellow jersey shirt with a neckline wide enough to bare her shoulders. At five feet ten inches tall, Irina had legs that were long and shapely, though at the moment they were covered by a pair of gray yoga pants that clung to every inch. Black ballet flats were on her feet.
Kellan’s whole body tensed.
Even dressed casually, Irina was more beautiful than any other woman would have been decked