Tempting The Texan

Two (#u80783e21-49d6-57ab-8936-3c37850e4794)

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 NYCEx-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 out in diamonds. Heat rushed through him. The sparks in her eyes intrigued him. There was a pride and a self-confidence about her now and he liked it. Irina had once told him that in Russia, she’d been a model, but when he’d known her, she’d been shy, unsure of herself. As if she were lost and hadn’t been able to find her way.

This Irina, strong enough to meet his gaze and lift her chin in defiance, was someone new, and damned if she wasn’t even more attractive.

She crossed her arms over her chest, unconsciously lifting her breasts, making his mouth go dry. “What were you doing in my room? Going through my things?”

“Didn’t know that was your room,” he said shortly. “I thought it was Miranda’s.”

One of her expertly shaped eyebrows lifted and he knew what she was thinking.

“God, no.” He shuddered at the idea of sex with his late father’s ex. Even if it hadn’t been more than a little gross to contemplate sex with his father’s former lover, he wouldn’t have been interested in Miranda. She was too…practiced at seduction. “Trust me,” he said. “It’s not that.”

“All right.” Her arms dropped to her sides. “Then why were you looking for her room?”

He took a deep breath and gritted his teeth. Kellan wasn’t used to explaining himself. Mostly, he did what he wanted when he wanted and screw whoever didn’t like it. Made life easier. Back in the day, Irina never would have confronted him like this. And maybe that was why he was willing to answer her. Damned if he didn’t admire the fire in her eyes. “For something to explain why Buck did what he did. They read his will today and dear old Dad left her everything.”

“Yes, I know. Kace told me earlier today when he came to tell me about the inheritance Buckley left to me.”

Surprise had him speechless for a moment. Kellan never would have imagined Buckley Blackwood even noticing a maid in his house, let alone naming her in his will. Buck hadn’t been exactly known for being a kind soul. He had marched through his life, single-mindedly focused on his business, his fortune.

Finally, he recovered enough to ask, “My father left you something?”

“Is it really so shocking? Your father was very good to me.”

“I know you always thought so.” He shook his head as if denying what he was saying. “But Buck was never described as generous.”

“Fine. Think that if it comforts you.”

“Comforts me?” Kellan stared at her for a long minute. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Never mind.” Irina swung her long hair back over her shoulder and her shirt dipped just a bit lower over her upper arm. “You’ve obviously set your mind on who you believe your father was. I can’t change your mind.”

Maybe Buck was good to Irina, but Kellan couldn’t be budged from his own perspective on his father. Hell, he’d lived it, hadn’t he?

“But you haven’t answered me. Why did you want to look through Miranda’s things?”

Hard to keep his mind on business when he was fantasizing about sliding that shirt all the way off, then—“I heard Buck sent her a letter. I want to see it. Need to know what’s in it.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Of course it’s my business,” he snapped and rubbed one hand across the back of his neck. “I need to know what she knows. I need to understand why Buck left her everything.”

For a long moment, Irina just watched him, and the steady stare from her dark green eyes made him uneasy. For good reason, as it turned out.

“No. I can’t help you, Kellan. And I won’t let you spy on Miranda.”

Irritation flared to life inside him. “You can’t stop me.”

“I can tell her what you did.”

“Letting her know after the fact won’t change anything,” he said quickly.