Shadows At Sunset. Anne Stuart

merely smiled, draining his beer and setting the bottle down on the stone railing. “Did it work?” he asked again.

      “No. Jackson likes his children docile.”

      “Dean’s practically a doormat, and Jackson doesn’t seem any too fond of him,” Coltrane said. “There’s our pizza.”

      She hadn’t even noticed the young man coming up the walkway, but the sudden rich aroma of tomato sauce and cheese wafted toward her, and her stomach leapt. She watched as Coltrane traded the pizza for cash, trying to school her wayward stomach.

      He came toward her, carrying the box, and Jilly kept a stalwart expression on her face. “Real New York pizza,” he said in a seductive voice. “No sprouts, no broccoli, no goat cheese or tofu. Do you realize how rare this is?”

      It took her a moment to find her voice. She could resist a man that gorgeous, she knew she could. Real pizza was another matter.

      “I’m not hungry,” she said, her voice wavering slightly.

      “Of course not. But then, neither am I. I’m afraid I have to leave.”

      She almost dropped her empty beer bottle. “Leave?” she repeated idiotically.

      “I know it breaks your heart, but something’s come up. We can talk about your family later. Maybe your sister might have an idea how we can help Dean. In the meantime, why don’t I just leave the pizza here? Even if you don’t like it maybe your ghosts would.”

      “I doubt it.”

      “Or maybe you’ll consider trying it. Have you ever even had an honest-to-God real Italian pizza in your upscale California life?” His words were gently mocking.

      “I went to Princeton,” Jilly said. “They have great pizza in New Jersey.”

      “But you don’t like pizza, right?” He set the box down on the step beside her, then moved away. “Think about what I said. Sooner or later your brother will have to fend for himself. Did he even ask you to go to your father?”

      “Not in so many words, but…”

      “I rest my case. He doesn’t want you interfering. The more you try to fix things for him the worse things will get.”

      “Hi, my name is Jilly and I’m a codependent,” she said flippantly.

      “If you want my help you know where to find me.”

      She waited until he’d disappeared down the pathway beneath the overgrown trees, waited until the sound of his car faded away. Waited until the smell of pepperoni and cheese got too tempting, and then she tore into the box. Much good she was against the forces of darkness, she thought, dreamily shoving the pizza in her mouth. He was right—it was great pizza. She could stand firm against any onslaught and then be seduced by food.

      “What are you eating?”

      Jilly jumped, startled, and looked up at her sister. Rachel-Ann looked pale, sad and as beautiful as always, with her gorgeous pre-Raphaelite curls and her huge green eyes.

      “Pizza,” Jilly replied, her mouth still full. “The best pizza I’ve had in decades. Have some.”

      “I’m not hungry.” Despite her words Rachel-Ann sat down on the steps beside Jilly and took the slice she offered. She stared at it for a long moment, as if she’d find the answers to the secrets of the universe in the thick topping. “Besides, I’m a vegetarian.”

      “Take the pepperoni off. I’ll eat it for you,” she offered generously.

      Slowly, almost automatically Rachel-Ann picked off the circles of pepperoni and dropped them in the box. “Where did you get this? You’re usually too cheap to call for take-out.”

      Jilly didn’t even bother to correct her. Due to the complicated terms of Julia Meyer’s will, the three siblings had possession of La Casa on equal terms, with money to support it. Rachel-Ann had gone through her share of the money in a record amount of time, but then, cocaine was an expensive habit. Jilly had no idea how much Dean had left, but she expected it wasn’t much. Certainly neither of them contributed a penny to the massive upkeep of the old place. “It’s my Scots blood,” she said cheerfully. “And I didn’t pay for it. Jackson’s golden boy had it delivered.”

      “Really?” Rachel-Ann’s interest perked up, and she took a tentative bite of the pizza. Her eyes closed in a moment of luxuriant bliss. “Is he as gorgeous as they say he is?”

      “Yup.”

      “Are you sleeping with him?” She seemed no more than idly curious.

      “No. I’ve been here every night, alone. You would have noticed if I was having an affair.”

      “I don’t pay much attention to those things,” Rachel-Ann said, taking another bite, and Jilly had to concede she was right. Rachel-Ann barely noticed if it was raining or sunny, she was too caught up in the foggy world she was battling to escape. Other people tended to flit through her life unnoticed. “Mmm,” she said. “If he can provide pizza like this maybe I’ll sleep with him.”

      For some reason Jilly found the notion deeply disturbing. It wasn’t as if her sister didn’t go through men like a hay-fever sufferer went through Kleenex, and while she’d remained celibate since she’d gotten out of treatment this time, it was unlikely to last. At least Coltrane would be a safer choice than some of the ones Rachel-Ann had made in the past. He wasn’t a drug dealer or an addict, as far as Jilly could tell. “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she said in a neutral voice. “I think he’s dangerous.”

      Wrong words, Jilly thought, when Rachel-Ann’s eyes lit up with a trace of their old spark. “Dangerous, gorgeous and he brings pizza? How irresistible.”

      “Resist him,” Jilly said sourly.

      At least Rachel-Ann didn’t bother being coy. There was no question that Coltrane would want her—most any man did. And already he’d seemed far too interested in her older sister. It was fairly easy to guess why.

      It was common knowledge that Rachel-Ann was Jackson’s favored child. An ambitious man would use that to his advantage. Jackson was clearly disappointed in his own son—maybe he needed a smart and devoted son-in-law to inherit the business. And it didn’t hurt that Rachel-Ann was sweet, beautiful and deeply wounded. She’d be dead easy to manipulate. Jackson was a past master at it, and Jilly had already seen enough of Coltrane to know he had a natural talent for it, as well.