Wedlocked?!

If the man who’d hired Annie had been anyone else in the Lone Star state, no matter how wealthy, powerful or well-connected, she would have ditched the case and walked away. Unfortunately, she owed Ryan Fortune far too much to even consider letting him down. Since quitting wasn’t an option, she straightened her spine, curved her mouth into a cool smile and did her best to mask the turmoil scrambling her insides like a butter churn.

“Hello, Cole,” she said before Ryan could begin the introductions. “How have you been?” For good measure, Annie extended her hand.

If her calm demeanor surprised him, Annie’s former lover gave no sign except a slight narrowing of his piercing blue eyes—eyes that had once burned with an intense yet shallow desire Annie had briefly mistaken for love.

It was a mistake she hadn’t made since.

After a pause so slight that she might have imagined it, Cole enfolded her hand in his. She felt his touch all the way to the heart she would have sworn had turned to stone after he’d walked out on her. Before she could even begin to absorb the heat and strength of his grip, he released her. His expression was somber, without even the hint of a smile, and he met her generic greeting with silence.

“You already know each other?” Ryan asked.

His tone made Annie curious, and she filed it away for future analysis. Right now she was too busy dealing with a situation she had both dreaded and fantasized about—meeting Cole again. “We haven’t seen each other for years,” she told Ryan with a bland smile before she shifted her attention to the woman seated at the table.

“You must be Lily. Ryan’s told me about you.” Although Cole had mentioned his mother to her frequently during their former association, the two women had never met. Annie had no idea Cole’s mother and Ryan’s fiancée were one and the same.

Silently, Annie congratulated herself on the steadiness of her own voice, and hoped the heat searing her cheeks didn’t glow like Rudolph’s nose. Determined that Cole glimpse not a hint of her inner agitation, she concentrated instead on the older woman studying her with a thoughtful expression.

Lily Cassidy had the dark hair and compelling looks that were a legacy of the Spanish and Apache heritage she shared with her son. No wonder Ryan Fortune had been willing to endure an expensive and very public divorce from the woman Lily now stood accused of murdering. Ryan’s intended was still as striking as her son was handsome.

Too bad the last six years had been so kind to Cole as well. Annie would have taken some small measure of satisfaction in seeing that his hairline had receded, his waist had expanded or the clean line of his jaw had begun to blur. Instead he’d grown more attractive since the day he had walked away from her without a backward glance. Had some other woman managed to do what Annie had not—capture his heart and his name?

Sometimes life just wasn’t fair, Annie thought, and then she recalled why she was here. Cole’s mother had been accused of murder. Her life wasn’t all fun and games. Neither, obviously, was Cole’s.

“Ryan speaks highly of you,” Lily said. “Please won’t you sit down?”

Deliberately Annie ignored the chair Cole pulled out, choosing instead the one on Lily’s other side. The strain of the last few weeks was evident in her expression, but there was warmth in her eyes, and barely visible laugh lines framing her mouth.

Annie was no Mary Poppins. She’d been a cop and she’d seen the worst in people. Appearances were often deceiving, yet she felt a burst of empathy toward Cole’s mother. Annie knew what it was like to be wrongly accused. Whether her empathy with Lily was misplaced remained to be seen.

“How well did you and Cole know each other?” Ryan asked, taking the fourth chair across the table.

A waiter handed Annie a menu, which she immediately opened. “Not well at all,” she said dismissively.

Lily looked at her son. Apparently she had a mother’s keen awareness when it came to undercurrents. “Cole?” she asked.

“We lost touch when I moved to Denver,” he said in a tone that didn’t invite more questions. He had taken refuge in his own menu and his expression was grim. Unfortunately for Annie, the slight frown did nothing to mar his attractiveness. Nor her own response to him—one that up until a few minutes before she would have sworn she’d managed to put far, far behind her. How disgustingly pathetic to feel such tingling awareness of the rat who had accepted her guilt when she’d so desperately needed him, of all people, to believe in her innocence.

Just like he wanted her to believe in his mother’s innocence now. The irony of the situation made Annie blink, and then she realized that all three of her companions were staring at her expectantly.

“Excuse me?” she asked, fresh heat bathing her cheeks.

Cole’s frown deepened. “I was just asking Ryan why he’d chosen you to investigate my mother’s case. You’re young and relatively inexperienced. There are plenty more seasoned P.I.’s in San Antonio.” How like an attorney to grab the offensive.

“And I was about to explain to Cole that age doesn’t necessarily indicate ability. Annie’s bright, sharp and aggressive. When it comes to clearing the woman I love, I want the very best available on our team.” Ryan reached across the table to clasp Lily’s outstretched hand. To Annie’s surprise, fresh tears sprang to the other woman’s dark eyes.

“Thank you, my love.” Her voice vibrated with emotion.

Pain sliced through Annie as she glanced away from the mutual trust and affection the brief exchange revealed. It was obvious that Ryan’s belief in Lily’s innocence was total. If only Cole could have been as sure of Annie’s years before.

For a moment, her gaze collided with his and she wondered if he could read her thoughts. A muscle ticked in his cheek, but he didn’t look away this time. It was Annie who finally raised her brows and managed to break the deadlock as the waiter approached. Her heart was racing. In the few moments it took the man to gather their orders, she was able to regain her poise and put the painful memories where they belonged.

Despite the lurid coverage of the tabloid press, the circumstances of Sophia Fortune’s murder left plenty of room for speculation. Smothering someone with a pillow was a very up-close and personal crime, not like shooting the victim from several yards away. Annie wondered if the woman seated across from her was capable of that kind of in-your-face violence. The case would be a fascinating one to investigate.

“What makes you think Ms. Jones is the best investigator available?” Cole asked Ryan.

Annie had no intention of losing this opportunity just because her presence made him uncomfortable. As his mother’s attorney, Cole would have to work with her on the investigation. If he wanted her fired, he was going to have to admit to Ryan, and his mother, why.

Before Annie could open her mouth, though, the waiter brought the iced teas they had all ordered. As he retreated, Ryan spoke directly to Cole. He must have sensed that the son would be a harder sell than the mother.

“Living in Denver, you may not be aware of the solid reputation Annie’s built for herself all through this part of Texas,” Ryan said. “I guess it must have been after your move that she left the police department, despite the protests of her superior officers, and opened her own agency.”

Surprise flickered across Cole’s face. Apparently he’d never bothered to find out the outcome of the charges filed against her within the department. This fresh evidence of his indifference to her fate hurt like hell.

“Since then she’s done some brilliant work on several difficult, high-profile cases.” Ryan turned his attention to Lily. “Honey, believe me, if anyone can give Cole the strongest ammunition to get you an acquittal, Annie can.”

Annie felt like squirming with embarrassment in the face of Ryan’s testimonial. Granted, she’d worked damn hard after her tattered reputation had been restored and she’d left the department. She’d still had a lot to prove—to her late father and to the people who had believed she’d disgraced both his memory and the badge he’d worn with pride. Case by difficult case, she’d earned her reputation and the hefty fees she now charged. Even so, Ryan’s wholesale endorsement made her uncomfortable. What if this time—when it mattered to him the most—she failed?

Lily took a sip of her iced tea and turned to look at Annie. “I suppose you know about the charges against me?”

Annie nodded. Anyone who hadn’t been lost in the wilderness knew Lily’s story. Since Ryan’s phone call, Annie had boned up on the case.

“Let me see if I’ve got it right,” she replied, deliberately pulling no punches. “The police think you killed Sophia because her refusal to give Ryan a divorce was preventing you from bagging one of the wealthiest men in the state.” She ignored Ryan’s gasp. “You had means, opportunity and motive, since you just happened to be staying at her hotel in Austin on the night in question. You told the police you hadn’t been in her suite, but they found your bracelet on the floor by her body. They say the two of you quarreled and you held a pillow over her face until she was dead.”

During Annie’s recital, Lily had paled, but she seemed to draw strength from Ryan. Her chin went up. “I didn’t do it. I could never take another person’s life.” Her gaze held Annie’s without wavering. “Do you believe me?”

Annie noticed that Cole had shifted closer to his mother as if to protect her. Where had all that loving support been when she’d needed it? “I don’t have to believe you to do my job,” she told Lily.

Angrily Cole slapped his hand on the table, making them jump. He had no intention of sitting quietly while this hotshot P.I. tried and convicted his mother of murder right here in the restaurant. Annie’s bald recital of both the facts and speculation surrounding the case had just handed him a concrete excuse to refuse to work with her on the investigation.

“I’ve heard enough,” he told Ryan, confident the older man would agree with him. “We’ll have to find someone else.”

To his surprise, his mother gripped his arm. “No, dear, I don’t think so.”

Cole knew that tone. Underneath the soft drawl lay pure steel. Still he argued. “You need someone who knows you’re innocent.”

She shook her head, a rueful smile curving her lips. “I have you and Ryan for that,” she said huskily. Then she looked right at Annie. “Miss Jones, I need a fighter on my side. I’d like you to take my case. If Ryan says you’re good, that’s enough for me.”

Cole’s automatic protest died in his throat. Under the circumstances, surely Annie would refuse.

Instead she smiled. Despite his annoyance, Cole felt his nerves leap in reaction. Working with her would be insane—just one of several reasons why she had no business on this case, but the one he could never verbalize. And what about the resentment she might still feel toward him over the past? What better revenge than standing by and watching his mother go to prison? Could the Annie he’d known have turned into the kind of person who would let something that evil happen—even contribute to it? Could he risk the possibility?

Before he could bring up his other objections, the waiter was back with their food. Grimly, Cole realized he might have better luck discussing the situation with Ryan and his mother later, away from Annie’s troubling presence.

As Ryan turned the conversation away from the case, Cole concentrated on his lobster salad and tried to resist sneaking peeks at the woman seated across from him, the thick brown hair he remembered so well pulled into a high ponytail that made her look younger than her twenty-nine years. He didn’t know which of the emotions churning through him was more disturbing—his guilt over the way he’d handled their breakup, the renewed attraction to her that threatened his focus now, or the certainty that being thrown together on this case would be a disaster not only for him but also for his mother, whose very life was on the line.

“I can take a cab,” Annie said, wanting nothing more than to get away from Cole long enough to catch her breath and beat her overactive hormones back into submission. Not that she was the least bit interested in him—she’d learned her lesson there—but a woman could admire a man on a strictly physical level as long as it didn’t interfere with the work at hand.

“Nonsense,” Ryan replied with the breezy confidence of the super-rich. “The ranch is in the opposite direction from your office, and Lily needs to rest. But Cole can drop you off.” His arm was curved protectively around Lily’s shoulders. “It will afford the two of you a chance to map out your strategy.”