“This late in the season, you couldn't check into a tent. And we want you here. All of us. Sloan's family is our family now.” Lilah smiled down at the dark – haired boy who was gawking at everything in sight. “It's a wild place, isn't it? Your uncle's making sure it doesn't come crashing down on our heads.” She walked into the ballroom.

Suzanna was standing on a ladder, polishing glass, while C.C. sat on the floor, hitting the low spots. Lilah bent to the boy. “I was supposed to be in on this,” she whispered. “But I played hooky.”

The idea made him laugh, and the laughter, so much like Alex's, had Suzanna glancing over.

She was expecting them. Their arrival had been anticipated for weeks. But seeing them here, knowing who they were, had her nerves jolting.

The woman wasn't just Sloan's sister, nor was the boy just his nephew. A short time before, Suzanna had learned that Megan O'Riley had been her husband's lover, and the boy his child. The woman who was staring at her now, the boy's hand gripped in hers, had been only seventeen when Baxter had charmed her into bed and seduced her with vows of love and promises of marriage. And all the while, he had been planning to marry Suzanna.

Which one of us, Suzanna wondered, had been the other woman?

It didn't matter now, she thought, and she climbed down. Not when she could see the nerves so clearly in Megan O'Riley's eyes, the tension in the set of her body, and the courage in the angle of her chin.

Lilah made introductions so smoothly that an outsider might have thought there was nothing but pleasantries in the ballroom. As Suzanna offered a hand, all Megan could think was that she had overdressed. She felt stiff and foolish in the trim bronze – colored suit, while Suzanna seemed so relaxed and lovely in faded jeans.

This was the woman she had hated for years, for taking away the man she'd loved and stealing the father of her child. Even after Sloan had explained Suzanna's innocence, even knowing the hate had been wasted, Megan couldn't relax.

“I'm so glad to meet you.” Suzanna put both hands over Megan's stiff one.

“Thank you.” Feeling awkward, Megan drew her hand away. “We're looking forward to the wedding.”

“So are we all.” After a bracing breath, Suzanna let herself look down at Kevin, the half brother to her Children. Her heart melted a little. He was taller than her son, and a full year older. But they had both inherited their father's dark good looks. Unconsciously Suzanna reached out to brush back the lock of hair that fell, the twin of Alex's, over Kevin's brow.

Megan's arm came around his shoulders in an instinctive move of defense. Suzanna let her hand drop to her side.

“It's nice to meet you, Kevin. Alex and Jenny could hardly sleep last night knowing you'd be here today.”

Kevin gave her a fleeting smile, then glanced up at his mother. She'd told him he was going to meet his half brother and sister, and he wasn't too sure he was happy about it, He didn't think his mother was, either.

“Why don't we go down and find them?” C.C. put a hand on Suzanna's shoulder, gently rubbing. Megan noted that Lilah had already flanked her sister's other side. She didn't blame them for sticking together against an outsider, and her chin came up to prove it.

“It might be best if we –”

She never got to finish. Alex and Jenny came clattering down the hall to burst into the room, breathless and flushed. “Is he here?” Alex demanded. “Aunt Coco said he was, and we want to see –” He cut himself off, skidding to a halt on the freshly polished floor.

The two boys eyed each other, interested and cautious, like two terriers. Alex wasn't sure he was pleased that his new brother was bigger than he was, but he'd already decided it would be neat to have something besides a sister.

“I'm Alex and this is Jenny,” Alex said, taking over introductions. “She's only five.”

“Five and a half,” Jenny put in, and marched up to Kevin. “And I can beat you up if I have to.”

“Jenny, I don't think that'll be necessary.” Suzanna spoke mildly, but the lifted brows said it all.

“Well, I could,” Jenny muttered, still sizing him up. “But Mom says we have to be nice 'cause we're family.”

“Do you know any Indians?” Alex demanded.

“Yeah.” Kevin was no longer gripping his mother's hand for dear life. “Lots of them.”

“Want to see our fort?” Alex asked.

“Yeah.” He sent a pleading glance at his mother. “Can I?” “Well, I –”

“Lilah and I'll take them out.” C.C. gave Suzanna's shoulder a final squeeze.

“They'll be fine,” Suzanna assured Megan as her sisters hustled the children along. “Sloan designed the fort, so it's sturdy.” She picked up her rag again to run it through her hands. “Does Kevin know?”

“Yes.” Megan turned her purse over and over in restless hands. “I didn't want him to meet your children without understanding.” She took a deep breath and prepared to launch into the speech she'd prepared. “Mrs. Dumont –”

“Suzanna. This is hard for you.”

“I don't imagine it's easy, or comfortable for either of us. I wouldn't have come,” she continued, “if it hadn't been so important to Sloan. I love my brother, and I won't do anything to spoil his wedding, but you must see that this is an impossible situation.”

“I can see it's a painful one for you. I'm sorry.” Her hands lifted then fell. “I wish I had known sooner, about you, about Kevin. It's unlikely that I could have made any difference as far as Bax is concerned, but I wish I had known.” She glanced down at the rag she was gripping too tightly, then put it aside. “Megan, I realize that while you were giving birth to Kevin, alone, I was in Europe, honeymooning with Kevin's father. You're entitled to hate me for that.”

Megan could only stare and shake her head. “You're nothing like I expected. You were supposed to be cool and remote and resentful.”

“It would be hard to resent a seventeen year old girl who was betrayed and left alone to raise a child. I wasn't much older than that when I married Bax. I understand how charming he could be, how persuasive. And how cruel.”

“I thought we'd live happily ever after,” Megan said with a sigh. “Well, I grew up quickly, and I learned fast.” She let out another long breath as she studied Suzanna. “I hated you, for having everything I thought I wanted. Even when I'd stopped loving him, it helped get me through to hate you. And I was terrified of meeting you.”

“That's something else we have in common.”

“I can't believe I'm here, talking to you like this.” To relieve her nerves she wandered around the ballroom. “I imagined it so many times all those years ago. I'd face you down, demand my rights.” She gave a soft laugh. “Even today, I had a whole speech planned out. It was very sophisticated, very mature – maybe just a little vicious. I didn't want to believe that you hadn't known about Kevin, that you'd been a victim, too. Because it was so much easier to think of myself as the only one who'd been betrayed Then your children came in.” She closed her eyes. “How do you deal with the hurt, Suzanna?” “I'll let you know when I figure it out.” Smiling a little, Megan glanced out of the window. “It hasn't affecied them. Look.”

Suzanna walked over. Down in the yard she could see her children, and Megan's son, climbing into the plywood fort.


Holt gave it a lot of thought. Up until the moment when he dragged the suit out of his closet, he'd been certain he wasn't going. What the devil was he supposed to do at a society wedding? He didn't like socializing or making small talk or picking at those tiny little canape's. You never knew what the hell was in them anyway.

He didn't like strangling himself with a tie or having to iron a shirt. So why was he doing it?

He loosened the hated knot of the tie and frowned at himself in the dusty mirror over the bureau. Because he was an idiot and couldn't resist an invitation to the castle on the cliffs. Because he was twice an idiot and wanted to see Suzanna again.

It had been over a week since they had planted the yellow bush. A week since he'd kissed her. And a week since he'd admitted that one kiss, however turbulent, wasn't going to be enough.

He wanted to get a handle on her and thought the best way was to observe her in the midst of the family she seemed to love so much. He wasn't quite sure if she was the cool and remote princess of his youth, the hot – blooded woman he'd held in his arms or the vulnerable one whose eyes were haunting his dreams.

Holt was a man who liked to know exactly what he was up against, whether it was a suspect, a dinky motor or a woman. Once he had Suzanna pegged, he'd move at his own pace.

He didn't want to admit that she'd gotten to him with her fervent belief in the connection between his grandfather and her ancestor. More, he hated to admit that the visit by Coco McPike had made him feel guiky and responsible.

He wasn't going to the wedding to help anyone, he reminded himself. He wasn't making any commitments. He was going to please himself. This time he didn't have to stop at the kitchen door.

It wasn't a long drive, but he took his time, drawing it out. His first glimpse of The Towers bounced him back a dozen years. It was, as it had always been, a fanciful place, a maze of contrasts. It was built of somber stone, yet it was flanked with romantic towers. From one angle, it seemed formidable, from another graceful. At the moment, there was scaffolding on the west side, but instead of looking unsightly, it simply looked productive.

The sloped lawn was emerald green and guarded by gnarled and dignified trees, dashed with fragile and fragrant flowers. There was already a crowd of cars, and Holt felt foolish handing over the keys to his rusted Chevy to the uniformed valet.