Secret Vows

“That’s not going to be for a while,” Nicholas said.

Timothy felt a shiver eddy its way up his back when his son explained why Peyton Blackstone wouldn’t be able to travel for at least two months. She’d been stabbed by her ex-husband before the man was shot by a member of her cousin’s horse farm’s security team.

“If the farm has optimum security measures in place, then how did her ex-husband bypass it?”

“We discovered he had paid a member of the catering staff to let him use his uniform to surprise his girlfriend with an engagement ring. The poor man had no way of knowing he was being set up as an accomplice to an attempted murder. This is a reminder that anyone can breach the best protected property.”

Timothy was aware that his son’s horse farm used the most sophisticated electronic equipment available, and he’d also hired highly trained security personnel to protect his investment, but there were those willing to risk life and limb to steal his prized Arabians.

“I want you to be careful, Nicky.”

“I will.”

“Shall I give the rest of the family the good news?” he asked.

“Sure. As soon as Peyton’s up to receiving visitors, I want you and Mom to come and stay for a few weeks. Peyton’s mother is here, and I know she would like to discuss wedding plans with Mom. Peyton wants a simple church wedding at the chapel on Blackstone Farms, and she’s agreed to repeat her vows on New Year’s Eve along with Ana and Jacob in West Palm. I already called Ana and asked if she wouldn’t mind sharing her wedding celebration with us, and she said yes. I’d asked her not to say anything to you or Mom until I told you myself.”

Timothy nodded even though his son couldn’t see him. It was obvious Nicholas was either nervous or excited because he was talking nonstop. “So, that’s why Ana’s been giving me strange looks ever since she got here. I’ll be certain to let her know you told me. If you guys want to take a honeymoon, then renovations to the house in Venice should be ready by the end of the year. Your mother and I are going back next year for Carnival, and you and Peyton are more than welcome to join us. The villa has three apartments, so there’s plenty of space where we won’t have to run into one another.”

“I’ll tell her, and then I’ll let you know. I’m sorry to ring off, Dad, but I have to meet with someone at three.”

“Thanks for calling, and congratulations.”

“Thanks. Love you, Dad.”

“I love you, too, son.”

Timothy ended the call, and then approached his uncles who were engaged in a heated discussion about the upcoming football season. “Mis estimado tíos, I’d like to speak to you in the library.”

Martin Cole rested an arm on his nephew’s shoulder. “Since when did we become esteemed uncles? I’ve always been Martin.”

David Cole flashed a matched set of dimples. The bright Florida sun glinted off his cropped silver hair. “The only one who has ever been uncle anything is Josh.”

Joshua Kirkland smiled behind the lenses of his sunglasses. “That’s because I’ve always struck fear in the heart of this pup.”

Timothy laughed again. “I’m over sixty and much too old to be a pup. Even Diego—who’ll be forty in a couple years—can’t be considered a pup. Now, Martin’s grandson Clayborne is definitely in the pup category.”

Martin nodded. “Let’s go inside so we can find out what Timothy has been sniggling about.”

Timothy waited until everyone was seated in the library, its shelves lined with first edition classic bestsellers, antiques and reproductions. “Nicholas just called me to say he’s getting married.” A couple groans followed his announcement. “Hold up,” he said, when the three men started talking at once. “He’s having a small church wedding at the chapel on the neighboring farm, and then he and his wife plan to repeat their vows here on New Year’s Eve. And before you ask, David, Ana and Jacob have agreed to a double wedding ceremony.”

David ran long brown fingers over his face. “Why didn’t Ana say anything to me about this?”

“She didn’t because Nicholas had asked her not to,” Timothy explained.

Martin laced his fingers together and slumped farther down in his favorite leather chair. “I guess you’re done with the wager, Timothy. And this only leaves David’s Jason. What do you think, Josh?”

It was early in the morning of the past New Year’s Day when the four men had wagered whose single thirty-something children would marry before the end of the year. Each man had put up a million dollars, the winner setting up an endowment in their name to their alma mater. David was the exception when he had to wager two million because his unmarried twin son and daughter were two of the three targets reluctant to change their marital status. That had all changed when Ana had married U.S. Marshal Jacob Jones. Those who’d selected Ana to marry first, and then Nicholas, were certain to win the wager.

David frowned. “Martin, why are you asking him about my boy?”

“Because Joshua is impartial, David,” Martin countered. “None of his kids are involved in this wager.”

Joshua, having removed his sunglasses, massaged the bridge of his nose. His light green eyes shifted from his brothers to his nephew. “I don’t think Jason’s going to remain single much longer.”

“Why would you say that?” Timothy asked.

Looping one leg over the opposite knee, Joshua met David’s eyes. “Jason and Ana are twins who’ve done everything together. They never had to look for a date for red carpet events because they always had each other. Since Ana is married and has hinted she wants a baby, Jason is almost forced to find someone to step in and replace her. Up until now his life has been rather safe. He’ll date a woman for a little while, but then he’ll drop her because he claims she doesn’t measure up. No woman will ever measure up because my nephew doesn’t know what he wants.”

David’s frown deepened. “You guys have a nasty habit of psychoanalyzing my kids.”

“Josh is right,” Martin concurred. “You and Serena have provided safety nets for your children that Josh and Timothy haven’t. You built a house with enough room for your kids to live there for the rest of their lives. Correct me if I’m wrong, brother. Doesn’t Jason still live at home?”

David crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes. But he’s moving out when—”

Martin put up a hand. “No buts, David. I know Jason plans to move into Ana’s condo when she and Jacob buy a house, and that Jason built a place in Oregon, but he’s still living at home. If your thirty-three-year-old son proves me wrong, then I’ll be the first to apologize, but only after Joshua apologizes,” he teased.

Joshua placed both feet on the priceless rug, rising from his seat. “Oh, hell no. I’m not apologizing. We’ll see come New Year’s who’s right and who’s wrong.” He extended his hand, palm down, and individually each man stood, placing his hand on the top one; then they took turns pounding Timothy’s back, while congratulating him on his son’s upcoming nuptials.

Two down and one to go, and then the winner of the wedding wager would be revealed.

Chapter 1

Phoenix, Arizona

The intercom on Greer Evans’s desk buzzed softly. Unconsciously she reached for the receiver, while at the same time her gaze was fixed on the internal report she’d spent the past hour perusing. “Evans,” she said in her usual greeting.

“The director would like you to come to his office.”

Her eyes shifted to the telephone display. She and the others assigned to the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives’ Phoenix, Arizona, field office attended biweekly meetings in the director’s office where they were brought up-to-date on regional operations. It wasn’t often she was singularly summoned.

“When, Miss Kelly?” she asked the woman who monitored everyone and everything going on at the site.

“He wants to see you now.”

“I’m on my way.”

Greer hung up, coming to her feet and exiting the cubicle where she had spent countless hours since being reassigned to the southwest region. The adjustment hadn’t been an easy one for her. The first thing she’d had to get used to was living in the desert. The dry heat, smog and occasional monsoon were a far cry from the change of seasons she’d experienced in Chicago and Washington, D.C. During the summer months she went directly from the air-conditioned office to the air-conditioned car and then drove to her artificially cooled one-bedroom furnished apartment with picturesque mountain views.

Plus she had to adjust to sitting at a desk. At first it had been difficult but, as the months passed, Greer had come to look forward to not going undercover; she was content to spend the rest of her professional career office-bound until it came time for her to collect her government pension. Why, she mused, was she thinking about retiring when that wouldn’t become a reality for at least another thirty years? At thirty-two, it should be the last thing on her mind.

Greer didn’t want to become cynical about her chosen career path because, after all, her mother had warned her of the pitfalls of undercover work. Her parents had met when both were recruits at the Quantico training facility. Her mother had joined the FBI, and her father had chosen the DEA. Then there was her twin brother. He’d followed in the family tradition of law enforcement when he also had joined the FBI.

She knew her mother, a retired FBI forensic technician, was uneasy each time Greer was selected for an undercover assignment, but she’d sworn an oath to uphold the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic, and those dealing in the sale and transportation of illegal explosives and firearms were enemies. She barely glanced at Sheila Kelly sitting in an alcove outside the field director’s office as she pushed open the door and walked in, realizing Roland wasn’t alone.

“You wanted to see me, Roland?”

Roland Peña’s head popped up. “Yes.” Rays of sunlight coming through windows bathed him in a halo of gold. Smiling, he rose to his feet, indicating the chair facing a sofa. “Please sit down.”