by Dani Wade
He’ll go to any lengths for his family...
even seduction.
He’d set the perfect trap...
Until he got caught.
Blake Boudreaux’s sex appeal is legendary—so is his family loyalty. When his father tasks him with retrieving a beloved heirloom to save their finances, the New Orleans playboy agrees, even if it means seducing Madison Armantine. The beautiful philanthropist is helpless against his strong arms and sultry Southern drawl, even as she suspects ulterior motives. But what if Madison isn’t the only one falling in love?
Blake dived back in for another taste, leaving Madison breathless and gasping.
As his mouth traveled from her lips, over her jaw, to her neck, she struggled to pull air into her lungs. The excitement of his touch, the racing of her pulse, the need to press herself closer to him despite the heat in the air... How was this happening?
Madison rocked forward. Blake gasped against her skin, his hands squeezing around her arms. “Madison,” he groaned.
One last hot, openmouthed kiss against the pounding at the base of her throat, then he pulled back. “We have to stop. Right now.”
“Why?” she whispered. She should know the answer, but right now it was as far from her as possible.
“We have to,” he said. He rested his forehead against her collarbone, breathing heavily in the hush of the garden. “I had no idea how addictive you would be.”
* * *
Reclaiming His Legacy by Dani Wade
is part of the Louisiana Legacies series.
Dear Reader,
I didn’t realize when I set out to write my Louisiana Legacies series how prominent the ideas of abuse and neglect of women would be. Some of those themes blossomed from my own life experiences, and some of them from the lives of women and children around me.
My hope is that while this is the backdrop of the book, it isn’t the focus. More important is the willingness of others to see this plight and do something about it. While Blake finds himself in the untenable position of having to deceive Madison, he’s doing it for the best of reasons: to save his stepsister from the same neglected, damaged childhood he himself endured. Madison herself has a servant’s heart, willing to go above and beyond in her love for others. This leaves their hearts vulnerable but also leads them to a love like no other.
May we all have hearts that love just as deeply and care about the plights of those around us.
I love to hear from my readers! You can email me at [email protected] or follow me on Facebook. As always, news about my releases is easiest to find through my author newsletter, which you can sign up for from my website at daniwade.com.
Enjoy!
Dani
Dani Wade
Reclaiming His Legacy
Dani Wade astonished her local librarians as a teenager when she carried home ten books every week—and actually read them all. Now she writes her own characters, who clamor for attention in the midst of the chaos that is her life. Residing in the southern United States with her husband, two kids, two dogs and one grumpy cat, she stays busy until she can closet herself away with her characters once more.
Books by Dani Wade
Harlequin Desire
Milltown Millionaires
A Bride’s Tangled Vows
The Blackstone Heir
The Renegade Returns
Expecting His Secret Heir
Savannah Sisters
A Family for the Billionaire
Taming the Billionaire
Son of Scandal
Louisiana Legacies
Entangled with the Heiress
Reclaiming His Legacy
Visit her Author Profile page at www.Harlequin.com, or daniwade.com, for more titles.
You can also find Dani Wade on Facebook, along with other Harlequin Desire authors, at Facebook.com/harlequindesireauthors!
This book is dedicated to my son, Riley.
Thank you for making me laugh,
for challenging me to be authentic,
for each and every hug.
May you ever find something in life that you love.
Go forth and conquer!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Excerpt from Forbidden Promises by Synithia Williams
Excerpt from One Night with His Rival by Robyn Grady
One
“What happened to the nanny, Father?”
For a moment, Blake Boudreaux thought his father wouldn’t answer. Instead Armand Boudreaux adopted the inscrutable, haughty look that matched his perfectly fitted suit, manicured hair and highly polished shoes. All of which said he wasn’t obligated to give excuses to anyone. Then one perfectly trimmed brow slowly lifted and he replied with dead calm, “My traitor of a wife cleaned out her bank account. A sizable amount, I might add. I had to recoup my investment somehow.”
“By firing the nanny of a sick child? Are you crazy?”
“You never had a nanny and you were just fine.”
Blake could say more than a few words on that subject, but this wasn’t the time or place... Not that his father would care anyway. Besides, being back inside the Boudreaux plantation house was making his skin crawl already. This place left him chilled to his core, even after all these years away. “I didn’t have epilepsy. This is a serious illness. Abigail needs to be supervised. Taken care of.”
“That mess is all in her head. Obviously so, or her mother wouldn’t have flaked off to Europe and left her behind.”
Wasn’t that sympathetic of him?
“So the doctors are lying?”
“They’re making a mountain out of a molehill. Really, they should do what they do best. Give her a pill that will make it all go away. It doesn’t need to be more involved than that, I’m sure. As long as she takes the medicine, she’ll be fine. And more importantly, she will believe its fine. That’s about all its good for.”
Blake knew a lot of things about his father. He was cold and autocratic, and spent his life tearing holes in the people around him. Sometimes he was subtle about it...sometimes not. But this was the first time he’d known Armand to truly jeopardize someone’s life. Blake truly believed this was not something to play around with.
Abigail, Blake’s half sister, was seven years old and her symptoms had been severe enough for her “flaky mother” to take her to a specialist. Of course, the minute the diagnosis had been made, she’d packed her bags and headed out to less stressful pastures.
“The doctors aren’t crazy. This could be dangerous,” he insisted.
“It’s not as bad as they make it seem. Besides, you sound like someone who honestly cares,” his father pointed out with a smirk. “Considering this is the first time I’ve seen your face since you told me to shove my money and my parental rights seventeen years ago, I guess I should take you seriously.”
The dig wasn’t unjustified. This was the first time Blake had set foot in his father’s house since he was eighteen years old. If he had never again walked through the doors of the infamous Boudreaux plantation house, he would never have missed it. He could have continued to live in the most luxurious settings in Europe, rather than return to this ar
ctic tundra of a house despite the sultry heat of the Louisiana summer outside.
He would never have met his father’s much younger second wife, Marisa, and his then five-year-old half sister if said wife hadn’t been on a trip in Germany at the same time Blake had been involved with the princess of a small, nearby principality.
That’s when he’d discovered that Marisa loved to travel to exotic places and be seen by the most important people. Abigail’s care was relegated to a nanny while her mother spent her days exploring her next big adventure. She’d only taken Abigail along because Armand had refused to let her leave the child at home. Marisa matched his father in narcissism, though she lacked his vindictive streak.
Blake had never thought he would ever care about children in any capacity that had an impact on his life. His playboy reputation was widely known and accepted by all but those women who tried—and failed—to change him. Children were something that existed and were cute...as long as they belonged to someone else.
But one charming afternoon with the little girl with soft ringlets, wide brown eyes and a keen curiosity about everything around her had this playboy hooked. Luckily, Marisa had facilitated his attempts to stay in touch with his half sister until a few months ago. Blake would have had no idea about the present situation if his half sister’s former nanny hadn’t called out of the blue two days ago with the distressing news. Blake had rented a private jet and gone to New Orleans immediately.
Thank goodness he had an inheritance outside of his father’s reach. His mother’s exclusive gift had given him the chance to live a carefree life without a thought to money...or his father’s opinion. The fact that he successfully supplemented that income with an avid interest in producing and distributing art was a bonus known only to him.
“I do care about Abigail,” Blake finally said. Better to keep it simple than give his father any ammunition to use against him. “Someone should.”
“She’s weak. Life will toughen her up.”
His father turned his laser-focused gaze on Blake, studying him in a way that made Blake want to squirm. He resisted the urge, of course. He was long past the point where he would allow his father to direct his actions in any way. Showing any sign of weakness would be seen as a victory by the old man, and Blake wasn’t giving an inch.
“But since you’re here, I might consider giving you the job.”
That wasn’t what Blake expected at all. “Excuse me?”
“The job of looking after her. Though you’re hardly qualified for childcare, now, are you?”
At least I’m willing to try. Blake simply locked his jaw and waited. If his father was willing to about-face, there would be a price to pay. Might as well wait for the bill.
“I don’t know,” the older man said, fiddling with his diamond cuff links as he pretended to consider the situation. “I haven’t decided if I’ll let you see her at all.”
A sudden tiny gasp sounded from behind a chair tucked into the far corner of the room. Unfortunately it echoed off the vaulted ceiling, and was magnified for the listeners nearby. His father’s gaze swung immediately to the shadows.
“I told you to stay in your room,” he yelled, his booming voice forcing Blake to suppress a wince.
A little girl slid out from behind the piece of furniture. Despite a little extra height on her, Blake would have said she was unchanged in the last two years. She had the same brown ringlet curls, though they were currently a tangled mess. The same vulnerable gaze. She hesitated before obeying, her brown eyes, flecked with green, seeming to memorize every inch of Blake as if afraid she would never see him again. Blake could certainly relate. His father was just enough of a jerk to forbid him to ever see her if he realized how much it meant to Blake.
So he hid his own emotions, gave Abigail the barest of smiles and motioned for her to go upstairs...before she heard more from her father about what a problem she was. Blake had grown up with a lifetime of those abusive rants stuck in his brain. He didn’t want that for Abigail.
While her mother was here, Blake had thought she would be protected from the harsh reality of Armand Boudreaux’s judgments. Now there would be no one in a position to protect her. The housekeeper, Sherry, might be able to check in, but she still had a job to do. Would that be enough?
Blake hadn’t even had that much. He remembered long, endless days when he barely saw anyone except the cook, who would fix him a plate. He’d been healthy, but lonely. Except having his father take an interest in him had usually meant an hour of yelling about how horrible Blake was.
Blake couldn’t allow that to happen to Abigail. Two years ago, he never gave his terrible childhood a second thought, but Abigail’s situation was bringing a lot of bad memories to the forefront of his brain.
Turning his gaze back to his father, he continued as if they hadn’t been interrupted. “You were saying I could help with Abigail’s care?” Caution was the name of the game here.
“Sure. You care so much about her—” Armand narrowed his gaze on Blake, a thin smile stretching his lips. “It might be worth something for you to see her.”
Oh boy. “Don’t you have enough money?”
The seconds-long hesitation sent a spear of worry through Blake. Money had never been an issue for his father. Not growing up. And, Blake assumed, not now. But that hesitation made him wonder.
Then his father said, “Not money, son. Freedom.”
A pretty significant bargaining chip for Blake. It always had been. This would not end well. “I’m not following.”
His father paced back and forth across the marble floor, the click of his dress shoes echoing off the vaulted ceiling. Blake’s stomach sank. This was his father’s move whenever he was plotting...planning. Definitely not good.
His father paused, tapping his index finger against his bottom lip. “I think there might be a solution to this situation that will benefit us both.”
Hell, no. “I know how this works. Your solutions only benefit you.”
“It depends on how you look at it.” His father’s smile was cold. “This could definitely benefit Abigail. Isn’t that what you say you want?”
“I never said any such thing.”
“Your actions speak loud enough for you.”
And he’d thought he’d shown remarkable restraint... Remaining silent would keep Blake from incriminating himself further. So he kept his trap shut and his gaze glued to the man before him. Armand fitted in so well with the sterile beauty of the Boudreaux plantation. It was his perfect backdrop.
“Yes, I believe this will definitely work. I’ve waited a long time for this.” Armand nodded as if confirming the thought to himself. His full head of silver hair glinted in the sun from the arched window behind him. “And you’re gonna give me exactly what I want.”
Blake turned away, panic running through him at the thought of going back to being that eighteen-year-old boy who had no defenses against his father. But just when he thought he would stride right over to the door and disappear through it, he caught a glimpse of tangled brown hair and pink leggings at the top of the stairs.
What choice do I have?
He could report Armand for neglect, but Blake doubted that would do more than dent his father’s reputation. Armand knew too many people in high places for any charges to go far. Abigail probably wouldn’t even be removed from the home.
He could take her with him now, but that would probably lead to him being accused of kidnapping...and she’d end up right back home.
He needed more time, more resources...but he could not let Abigail down, even if it meant turning his own life inside out to help her. Who would have guessed this playboy would grow a conscience?
He turned back to his father. “What do you want me to do?”
With a grin that said he knew he’d gotten his way, Armand slipped through the double doors at the far end of
the room leading to his office, then returned with a file folder in his hand. Blake didn’t dare look up the stairs and give away Abigail’s continued presence. But he was conscious of her sitting just out of his father’s line of sight.
“There is a woman here in town, Madison Landry. She has something that belongs to me. Something you will retrieve.”
“Can’t you get a lawyer to take care of that?”
“That route has proved...fruitless. Now it’s time for a different approach.”
The rare admission of failure was unheard of from his father, which piqued Blake’s interest. “So you want me to convince a former...what, lover?...to return something to you?” Obviously legal channels hadn’t worked, so his father didn’t have a legitimate leg to stand on.
His father smirked. “Hardly.” He pulled a photograph out of the file. “Have you ever heard of the Belarus diamond?”
“No.” Jewels had never been a major focus for Blake.
“It’s a rare, two-carat, fancy vivid blue diamond that was gifted to our family by a Russian prince before we settled in Louisiana after leaving France. When I was young and foolish, I had the diamond placed into a setting for an engagement ring. For a woman who did not deserve anything nearly so special.”
Well, this was news to Blake. He studied a photograph of a brilliant blue oval-shaped jewel. “You were engaged before my mother?”
“To the daughter of a now nearly extinct family from Louisiana society, Jacqueline Landry. The engagement lasted less than a year.”
“So she dumped you?”
If not, Armand would have taken steps to get back what was his before walking away.
Armand’s back went ramrod straight, as if he were affronted by the assumption. His sigh indicated he had no high horse to sit on. “She made the foolish choice to leave, and took the ring with her. That diamond belongs to our family. It is mine to do with as I wish.”
But not the ring? This wasn’t about a piece of jewelry Armand could hand down to his children. It was about something else... Money? Pride? Surely not after all of these years.