Undercover With The Heiress. Nan Dixon

and the love of his life. Gag much?

      Her brother tapped on the door. “You ready to walk over for dinner?”

      She pushed off the bed. “I guess.”

      He peered at her luggage spread through the room. “You didn’t unpack.”

      “I...freshened up after the drive.” She brushed a curl off her cheek. She’d been reading and lost track of time. “I’ll work on it tonight.”

      “How long are you staying?” he asked as they headed into the courtyard.

      She clenched her hands into fists so she didn’t gnaw on her thumbnail. “A couple of weeks?”

      “Weeks? Did your clique dethrone you as queen?” He slapped a hand on his chest. “How will they know who to snub and what club is hot? How will they decide what party to attend without your...wisdom?”

      She shivered. Gwen would take over. Her friend would love that. “You don’t have a high opinion of my life.”

      “Nope.” He was so...blunt.

      They passed a stone sculpture of the three Fitzgerald sisters set into a crumbling wall surrounded by flowers. “I suppose you think I should be more like the Fitzgeralds. Setting my hooks into men who can finance their B and B.”

      Gray grabbed her arm and spun her to face him. “What?”

      “Ouch.” She tugged and he released her. “Abby set her hooks in you and you bought her a mansion. Bess just married a contractor. You don’t think she has to pay full cost for the work they do at the B and B, do you? And what about Dolley? She made a play for that photographer. Now her photos are published.”

      “How can you think that? The Fitzgeralds are the hardest-working family I know,” Gray spat out. “I admire what they’ve done. You should emulate, not scorn, them. None of the trust-fund babies you run with could survive what they’ve survived.”

      “But—but Abby married you and you bought her all this.” She waved her arms around the B and B.

      “Because I love her.” Gray raised his hands. “I want to help her make her dreams come true. But she’s the one with the ideas and work ethic.”

      “But...” The Fitzgeralds couldn’t be so...so virtuous.

      “I’ll warn you once.” Gray’s blue gaze froze her in place. “If you’re nasty or mean to Abby, or her sisters, or their husbands or fiancés, hell, to any B and B staff, you’re gone.”

      Her stomach flopped. Gone? Where could she go? She couldn’t afford anything. “You’d choose them over me? Your own sister?”

      “Absolutely.” He crossed his arms, his face as hard as the driveway pillars at home. “Are we clear?”

      “Yes.” Her voice shook. Why was this happening? Why couldn’t her life go back to normal? “But...”

      “No. No buts.” He exhaled. “Sometimes I wish we’d grown up poor. Then maybe you would have used the brain I know you have.”

      He was as relentless as a boxer in the ring, but she wouldn’t let him see how much he’d hurt her. She’d had plenty of practice with their father. “I’m glad we aren’t poor.”

      He set his hand on her back and directed her toward Fitzgerald House. “I want you to do something with your life.”

      “That’s easy for you to say, you went to Yale.” Bitterness bled through her words.

      “Your education was good.” He squeezed her shoulders. “There had to be a reason you chose literature as your major.”

      “I love literature.” In addition, she could run her sorority without worrying she would fail a course. Would sorority president look good on a résumé?

      “I endured English classes,” he said. “Too much reading.”

      “That was the best part of my degree program.” She loved escaping into someone else’s life. It was more fun than her own. Changing the subject, she asked, “Do you always eat at the B and B?”

      Gray shrugged. “On the nights Abby runs the wine tastings.”

      “But there are all those...strangers at the B and B.”

      “You mean like when you eat in a restaurant?”

      “Oh.”

      Courtney followed him through the garden’s winding paths. Lush green plants cascaded over rocks. Palm trees of all sizes shadowed beds filled with red, yellow and pink flowers. She barely recognized any of the plants. She was as out of place here as a palm tree would be on the banks of the Charles.

      She wanted to go home. Wanted to have someone else deal with money and cars and let her deal with managing her friends.

      Gray held the screen door. The scents as they walked into the large kitchen were amazing. Lemon, basil, licorice? And fish.

      Gray hurried to his wife like he hadn’t seen her in weeks. A mob of people filled the room.

      She straightened. She’d thought it would only be Abby, Gray and herself. Instead, Abby’s family was here. The three sisters were connected at the hips. Now it wouldn’t be a quick meal. She’d have to chat with people who thought she was a bitch.

      She shook back her curls. What did it matter? She’d be back in Boston and away from here soon enough.

      Dolley, the youngest sister, said something and Liam, the documentary maker she’d latched on to, laughed along with the rest of the adults. Everyone but her.

      What would it be like to laugh freely and not care if the laugh lines became permanently engraved on your face?

      They were talking about Bess and Daniel’s honeymoon. Courtney hesitated next to the kitchen sitting area.

      The boy who’d been in Abby’s wedding sat next to a little girl. What was his name? “Jason?”

      He looked up from scribbling in a sketch book. “I’m Joshua. Josh.”

      “Hi, Joshua Josh.” She sat across from the kids. “What are you coloring?”

      He raised his eyebrows. “I’m drawing.”

      She could see ears and the body of a dog forming under the pencil strokes. “Is that your dog?”

      “It’s Carly, my uncle’s dog. But Papa says we get a dog as soon as our house is ready.”

      “You’re very talented.” She looked over at the tiny blond-haired girl. “What are you working on?”

      She held up a coloring book.

      “Issy doesn’t talk much. ’Cuz of stuff,” Josh said. “She always colors princesses.”

      “I see that.” Pink exploded over the page. “Very pretty.”

      Issy pointed to the page she wasn’t coloring.

      “You want me to color with you?” Courtney asked.

      Issy’s brown eyes brightened.

      “Thank you.” She knelt on the opposite side of the coffee table and picked a purple crayon from the pack. “Do you know your colors?”

      The little girl nodded.

      Courtney held up the crayon in her hand.

      “Purple,” the little girl sang.

      “Right.” Two princesses were on the page. “Which dress should be purple?”

      Issy tapped one.

      As they worked, Courtney asked her to name the colors each time she changed crayons.

      A blond woman came to the sitting area. “Hi, Courtney, can I get you something to drink?”

      Courtney