“No,” he said, inclining his head slightly. “It’s not.” He braced his feed wide apart, as if preparing for a battle. “Tell me this. How long is Miranda staying in Royal?”
She shrugged as if indifferent. “I don’t really know. She’s made no plans to leave as far as I know.”
“Of course she hasn’t,” he muttered, pushing one hand through his short, neat hair. “Why would she? Has the run of this house, all the money Buck left her and plenty of time to cause more trouble.”
Miranda had always seemed like a nice woman to Irina. In fact, they’d bonded some over a shared past of heartbreak and mistrust. And seeing how Buck’s grown children had treated Miranda had guaranteed that Irina would stand up for her. Since she’d once been an underdog herself, she would always stand up for people she thought were being bullied.
“What exactly, apart from her marrying and divorcing your father,” Irina asked, “do you have against her?”
“Isn’t that enough?”
“No.” Love died. Marriages ended. She’d lived it herself and usually there was more than one person to blame for it.
“It is for me,” he countered. “She’s got no rights here as far as I’m concerned.”
Shaking her head, Irina watched him. “Then it’s good it’s not up to you.”
“What the hell, Irina? I don’t understand this,” he admitted. “You were always more loyal to Buck than he deserved, so why would you switch that loyalty to Miranda?”
“And you were always harder on Buck than he deserved. Your father was more than you think he was.”
“I don’t believe it,” he snapped. “And that doesn’t answer the question. Why are you being so damn protective of Miranda of all people?”
Because, Irina thought, she understood Buck’s ex-wife. She knew what it was to be called a gold digger. Knew what it was to love and lose. Knew how hard it was to start over. To rebuild your life. How could Irina not stand by Miranda, when Buck had stood by her?
“It was your father’s fortune to do with as he pleased. Why do you get to say that he can’t leave Miranda everything?” Forcing herself to her feet, Irina locked her traitorous knees so they wouldn’t wobble on her again and tipped her head back to stare up at him. Looking into those lake-blue eyes of his sent tendrils of heat spiraling through her, but Irina did her best to ignore them. “I am being loyal to Buck. To his wishes.”
He slowly shook his head and watched her curiously. “What the hell did he ever do for you?”
Everything, she thought but didn’t say. Buckley Blackwood had played guardian angel to a lot of people and he’d insisted on remaining anonymous. So no one—not even his children—knew what a good man he really had been. But Irina would never forget.
“That’s none of your business, Kellan. You walked away. You don’t get to show up seven years later and demand answers to anything.”
He huffed out a breath and took a step closer. Irina steeled herself because she could smell his cologne. That same wild, spicy scent that seemed to chase her through sleepless nights. His jaw was clenched, his eyes snapping with sparks of frustration, and tension practically radiated from him in thick waves.
She felt that same tension pulsing inside her and she hated it. He’d once had so much power over her. One look from him turned her body into a molten puddle of need. One touch and she was burning. Orgasms with Kellan were more than she would have thought possible.
But strangely, what she missed most was lying in the circle of his arms, darkness all around them, while they talked and laughed together. That closeness, that intimacy, had meant everything to her and had hurt her the most when it was gone.
“I used to admire that hard head of yours,” he said, his voice lower, more intimate.
Now it was more than her knees that were feeling weak. Everything in her yearned. A slow burn started deep inside and bubbled in her bloodstream. This was dangerous. A temptation to go back rather than forward. She’d fought hard to reclaim her life, her heart, her mind after Kellan left. Irina couldn’t let herself be swept into another temporary liaison. And with Kellan, she knew it would be nothing but temporary.
“Kellan...” Warning? Invitation? Even Irina didn’t know for sure.
“You’re still so damn beautiful,” he murmured.
And he was still enticing.
“I think I’m going to kiss you,” he said, one eyebrow quirking. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Say yes. Say yes. Say yes.
“No,” she whispered.
So he did and the first touch of his lips to hers set that slow burn free and turned it into a wildfire deep within her body. She remembered that fire so well. She welcomed the flames, though she knew she shouldn’t. Irina was helpless to stop herself. Kellan had always had this effect on her and seven years hadn’t changed a thing.
His hands came down onto her shoulders and pulled her toward him. She kept her mouth on his as her arms snaked around his waist. The feel of him pressed against her made her body ache. An aching, molten heat settled in her core and left her hungry for so much more than a kiss.
His tongue swept into her mouth and tangled with hers. She tightened her hold on him, and met him stroke for stroke, need for need. The kiss awakened her from a years-long sleep and the awakening was almost painful. Her body hummed with anticipation. Her mind clouded over with too many sensations rising and falling to make sense of any of them. Her breath caught in her chest as she gave herself up to the wonder of the fire even while a small voice within shouted at her to be careful. To step back. To remember that though his touch was magical, he wasn’t staying this time, either.
And that thought was finally enough to penetrate the fog in her brain. To push past what he made her feel long enough that she could remind herself that only pain waited for her if she let this go on.
Irina pulled back, shaking her head as much to convince herself as him. She took a deep breath to steady herself and met his gaze, no matter what it cost her to look into those blue eyes again. “We shouldn’t have done that.”
He scrubbed one hand across his face, then the back of his neck. His breath came hard and fast so she knew he’d been as affected as she had been. Small comfort, she supposed.
Nodding, he said, “Right. Mistake.” His gaze locked on hers, he added, “A good one.”
Her stomach jumped. “No, it wasn’t.”
“Liar.”
Her heart jittered.
“Fine. It felt good. But then, chemistry was never our problem,” she said, remembering. God, how she remembered what happened when they were together.
“No. It wasn’t.” He stepped back from her as if he didn’t quite trust himself not to reach for her again.
And Irina didn’t know if she was sad about that or grateful.
“I couldn’t stay back then, Irina,” he was saying. “There were too many memories in Royal. Too much pain.”
She knew that. He’d lost his wife a year before he and Irina got together. So he’d come to her, a widower with a broken heart and a shattered soul, and for a very short while, they’d healed each other.
“So you left and shared the pain.”
His head snapped up and his gaze fixed on hers. “That wasn’t my intention.”
“And yet it’s what you did.”
Clearly irritated, he pushed one hand through his hair. “I didn’t come here tonight to argue with you.”
“No,” she said. “You came here to spy on Miranda.”
“I want answers,” he countered.
“Get them another way.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I hope Miranda appreciates how you’re defending her.”
“I’m not doing this for her,” Irina said. “Or not just for her. I’m doing this mainly for your father. Buck wrote his will. It laid out his wishes. Kellan,
you don’t get to disregard them simply because you don’t like them.”
“Man, I hope Buck appreciated the tiger he had defending him.”
A small smile curved her mouth briefly. “He did.”
Nodding, Kellan studied her for a long minute. “I’m not going to let this go.”
“I didn’t think you would,” she said. “But you should. And, Kellan, you should know that Buck loved you. Loved all of you.”
“Please.” He snorted dismissively and waved one hand at her as if erasing her words entirely.
“He did.”
“And he proved that by leaving our family legacy to a woman he chose to not stay married to?”
“I don’t know why he did that,” Irina admitted. “But I always trusted Buck.”
“There’s the difference between us, then,” Kellan said softly, his gaze locked with hers. “I never trusted my father. And I won’t start now.”
“So you’re not going back to Nashville?” She had hoped that after the funeral and the reading of the will that Kellan would once again leave Royal.
“Not a chance,” he promised. “I’m not going anywhere until this whole situation is settled.” He turned on his heel and headed for the front door. He paused only briefly to look back at her. When their eyes met, he said, “You haven’t seen the last of me, Irina.”
That sounded like a promise, too, and she hated that she was pleased by it.
* * *
“How’d the big spy operation go?”
Kellan glanced over his shoulder at his younger brother as Vaughn walked into the great room and dropped onto the closest sofa. Since Vaughn lived in Dallas now, he was staying at their mother’s friend Dixie’s ranch, Magnolia Acres. Since Kellan was in Royal for a while, though, Vaughn was dropping in and out. It was good to spend real time with his brother and sister instead of the quick visits he usually made. The only time Kellan stayed at his ranch himself was when he came back to Royal to see his brother and sister. Now he was rethinking the whole drop-in-anytime thing.
Scowling, Kellan said, “As well as you said it would.”
Vaughn laughed shortly. “It was a crappy plan, Kel. Face it. Storm Dad’s house, snoop through Miranda’s stuff?”
Kellan stalked to the wet bar in the corner of the room. Bending down, he opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. “You want one?”
“Hell yes.”
Kellan crossed the room again, handed a beer to his brother and then took a seat opposite him. “I never got to go through her things. Irina was there and stopped me.”
Vaughn’s eyebrows lifted. “Interesting,” he mused. “I didn’t know anyone could stop you once you had your decision made.”
Kellan took a swig of beer and avoided looking at Vaughn. His brother was entirely too perceptive. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Uh-huh. So, how’s Irina?”
Now he did fire a hard look at his brother. “She’s fine.”
“Better than fine, if you ask me,” Vaughn said with a small smile. “We both saw her at the service, and gotta say, she’s still hot.”
“Hot?”
“I’m not blind, Kel. Even if you are.”
“I’m not blind, either,” he snapped and took another hard pull of his beer.
“Good to know.” Vaughn sat up and braced his elbows on his knees. “So you going to do anything about it?”
The taste of Irina rose up in his mind. The feel of her body pressed to his. Her breath on his cheek. The scent of her hair. The silk of her skin. He took another drink of his beer and let the icy brew dampen the fires inside. He really didn’t need his brother poking at him over Irina when his own mind and body were doing just fine on that front. “What the hell, Vaughn?”
He held up one hand. “Fine. I’ll back off.”
“Thank you.”
“But,” he added, and Kellan frowned at him, “all those years ago, you two had something.”
“How do you know?”
“Everybody knew.”
So much for a secret affair. “It was a long time ago.”
“True. But according to gossip and our baby sister, Irina’s still single. So are you.”
Kellan’s gaze narrowed. “I’m not looking, Vaughn.”
“Because of Shea?” Vaughn’s voice was a whisper.
Kellan shot off the couch like he was on a spring. It had been eight years since his wife had died in that car accident. Eight years and he still didn’t want to think about that day. Remember the staggering loss. Remember that touching Irina only a year after that loss had made him feel like a damn cheat. “Don’t talk about her.”
“A lot of rules,” his brother said softly. “No talk of Irina. Shea, either. What am I allowed to say to you?”
“How about good-night?” Kellan snapped. “Or even better, I’m headed back to Magnolia Acres. Or even better, Dallas.”
Vaughn laughed. “Yeah, not happening. I’m here for a couple more days. Have some friends I want to see while I’m in Royal. Now that the services and the will reading are done, I’m free.”
“Why are you not pissed?” Kellan demanded suddenly. “About Dad leaving everything to Miranda? Why isn’t that burning your ass?”
Vaughn’s features smoothed out into a blank slate. Only his eyes flashed to let Kellan know he wasn’t as disinterested as he was pretending to be. “Because I don’t want Buck’s money. I made my own way with no help from our father. It’s too damn late for him to do anything for me. So let Miranda have it. I hope she chokes on it.”
“I call bull.” Kellan pointed his beer at Vaughn. “Maybe you don’t want the money, but I know losing Blackwood Hollow to that woman has to be eating at you. That’s family land, Vaughn. It’s our land. Our ranch. Our damned legacy.”
Studying his own beer, Vaughn was silent for a long minute or two. Finally, though, he said, “Being pissed won’t change anything, Kel. So accept the fact that our dad was a dick and move the hell on already.”
“No.”
Vaughn gave another short laugh and lifted his beer in a toast. “Fine. You go ahead. Charge into the dragon’s den and try to come out with the magic sword or whatever. But don’t expect me to help you do it.”
Kellan said, “Just don’t get in my way.”
“Deal.” Vaughn turned for the door. “Now, I’m going to Dixie’s place. I’m too tired to keep jousting with you. Good luck on your next caper, 007.”
Life, Kellan thought, might have been a lot easier if he’d been an only child.
* * *
The next morning, Kellan was working at his ranch, wearing some jeans, a dark green flannel shirt and a heavy brown leather jacket. His old boots were scuffed and worn, and stepping into them made him feel complete somehow. You could take a man off the ranch, dress him in a suit and toss him into a city, but it seemed you couldn’t take the Texas out of him.
He was tired, though. The argument with Vaughn bothered him, but it was that kiss with Irina that had kept him awake most of the night. He’d played it over and over in his head for hours, like a damn movie on constant rewind and replay. He hadn’t been able to turn it off. To ignore what seeing her again, touching her again, had done to his body. So a night of self-imposed torture left him squinting into the early-morning sunlight and wishing for more coffee.
Standing on the wide front porch in the cold, blustery wind, he scanned the property he’d purchased five years ago. He should probably rent it out, but the truth was, it was nice to have his own place to stay in when he was in Royal. He had a great foreman, who took care of the place while Kellan lived in Nashville, and, as an investment, the ranch couldn’t be better. The land itself was worth almost twice as much as it had been when he’d bought it and that wasn’t even counting the value of the palatial ranch house and outbuildings. Not to mention the stock—thousands of head
s of cattle and horses.
But he hadn’t bought it for its financial worth. Instead, it was a touchstone of sorts. A reminder that though staying in Royal had been too much for him seven years ago, this corner of Texas was still his home. His roots ran deep here. The Blackwoods had been in this area for more than a hundred years.
Which was just one more reason why he wasn’t about to give up his family legacy to a gold digger. Just the thought of Miranda DuPree made his hackles rise and had him grinding his teeth together so hard, he was half-surprised they didn’t shatter. He’d thought Miranda was out of their lives when she and Buck divorced—and now she was back, worse than ever. “What the hell was Buck thinking?”
When a bright red Jeep zipped up the drive and came to a screeching halt almost directly in front of him, Kellan smiled in spite of the dark thoughts tumbling through his mind. His baby sister hopped out of the car and shivered in the cold wind.
“Hi, Kel,” Sophie said as she tugged her black jacket tighter around her.
People didn’t usually think of Texas as cold-weather country. But winters could be harsh and even though snow was rare, the icy wind could cut like a knife.
“What’re you doing here so early?”
She waved one hand, smiled, and Kellan realized what a beauty his sister had become. Just an inch or so shorter than Irina, Sophie had long auburn hair, brown eyes and a curvy body that Kellan really didn’t want to acknowledge. As far as he was concerned, there was no man good enough for Sophie—so she should just be alone. If they were Catholic, he’d be voting for a convent.
“I’ve got a ten o’clock appointment at the Courtyard. My client wants to look at the antiques at Priceless.”
Sophie, at only twenty-seven, ran a popular YouTube channel on style, was a licensed interior decorator and had her own shop in Royal. And as a designer, of course she would love shopping at the Courtyard. The place had grown from a single rehabbed barn housing antiques into a series of eclectic businesses, including a few artisans and cafés.
Tempting the Texan Page 3