Tempting The Texan

“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 heads 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.

“I saw Vaughn at the diner having coffee and he told me you’d be up and moving because when he left here last night, you were too wired to sleep.”

“Our brother’s got a big mouth,” Kellan muttered. “What’s up, Sophie?”

She sighed and flipped her hair out of her face when the wind gusted. “I couldn’t sleep last night, either. I kept thinking about the will and Miranda and us, and I guess I just wanted to talk to you. See what you think about all of it.”

He scowled and tugged his hat down firmer on his head. “I think I’m going to be going into town to talk to Kace later today. See if I can find a way to fight this will.”

“Okay, but what if he says there isn’t one?”

“Then we fight anyway,” Kellan said tightly. “Damned if we just hand over our home to Miranda.”

She nodded and smiled. “Okay, good. Because I was thinking maybe I could snoop around a little. Talk to people. See if anyone knows anything about Miranda. Gossip in Royal lives forever. Plus, I know Miranda’s come back to town more than a few times since the divorce. I mean, you and Vaughn and I, we haven’t really been spending any time at the house in years.”

True. They’d all avoided the house because they were busy avoiding Buck. Kellan lived in Nashville now, Sophie had her own house in Pine Valley and Vaughn was in Dallas these days.

“Maybe,” she continued, “there’s a reason behind Dad doing this to us. And maybe I can help find it.”

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

Kellan looked into her eyes and saw the worry and the hurt there, and if he could, he would have reached beyond the grave to grab his father and curse him for giving Sophie pain. He knew she wanted to help him find answers and, hell, maybe she could. Women talked more easily to other women. If she could pry some secrets loose, it might give them something to use against Miranda.

“Sounds good,” he said and saw the flash of pleasure in her eyes. “Where are you going to start?”