His Forever Valentine. Marie Ferrarella

yes, did you, Dad?” he asked.

      “I have not had a chance to say very much of anything yet, Miguel.” The head of the family looked at the young woman and made the necessary introduction. “This is Miguel Jr., Miss Jones. My oldest.”

      Val began to rise and extend her hand toward Mike, but before she could say anything, Mike nodded at her curtly, summarily dismissing the offer she had been about to tender.

      “If we’re voting on this,” he told his father, even as he continued looking at the woman, “I vote no.”

      “Miguel,” his father said sharply. “It’s only polite to hear the lady out first.”

      “I don’t need to be polite and I don’t need to hear what she has to say.” The look on Mike’s face challenged the interloper in their midst. “They’ll come, invade our privacy, disrespect our land, make a mess and then leave.” His eyes narrowed dismissively. “Like I said before, I vote no.”

      Val could feel herself taking umbrage. She’d worked with this director and his crew a number of times before. They all got along well and had become more like family than merely a crew. She didn’t take kindly to this man’s careless and dismissive assessment of her “family.”

      “We clean up after ourselves,” Val informed him with a deceptively calm voice. “And your privacy—as well as your land—will be fully respected,” she assured him. “Now, would you like to hear why you should say yes?” she asked pleasantly.

      Mike was not particularly receptive. No doubt he’d heard stories of what a production crew could be like and didn’t want to see that happening to his family’s property. “Not particularly,” he answered coldly.

      “I would,” Ray spoke up brightly, flashing a one-thousand-watt smile at her. “By the way, I’m Ray,” he said, extending his hand to her. Both he and Mike were still standing where they had entered. “The nice brother,” he clarified.

      “All my sons are nice,” Miguel immediately corrected, then slanted a look at his oldest. “Some are just a little more hotheaded than others.”

      Val smiled warmly at the patriarch. “I understand,” she told Miguel Sr., then appraised the other three men. “I really do. But this is not going to be like some intrusive reality program where the cameramen are going to be following you around, capturing your every movement on film. All we would require from your property would be a few outdoor shots of the ranch house and some panoramic shots of the outlining property.” She paused for a moment before adding something that she worried Mike might take exception to. “Our set decorator might want to come and look around inside—”

      “And that’s how it starts,” Mike declared as if he had just scored the game-winning point.

      Val was not about to give up this easily. “But only to be able to recreate the best parts of your home on a studio set,” she insisted, then stressed, “You wouldn’t be inconvenienced.” Val paused before adding what she hoped was the thing that would win them all over despite Rafe’s earlier comment about money not meaning very much to them. “And you would be well compensated for all this.”

      “Exactly what is ‘well compensated’ in your book?” Mike asked.

      Making the final offer would be the director’s decision once he saw her photographs. She didn’t want to aim high and then come in with a lower figure. The oldest brother would just use that to try to make his father change his mind.

      “Well, just off the top of my head.” Val thought for a moment, then quoted what the last person had been paid for the home she had located for the last movie her boss had directed.

      No one said a word as the figure sank in.

      Ray was the first to say anything, after emitting a long, low whistle in response to the number. “You’re kidding.”

      Mike seemed in complete agreement with the sentiment Ray had just expressed. She had to be kidding. No one paid that kind of money just to “borrow” a ranch house. That was the kind of serious money men who were looking to buy a ranch house bandied about.

      “You’re just saying that to get us to agree,” Mike accused.

      “I’m ‘just saying it’ because it’s true,” she informed him. “That was what was paid out for the last house we used on location.”

      Mike snorted. “Right.”

      By nature, Rafe was the easygoing one, the one who was neither hotheaded nor sought to be the first to jump into a fray. But he had stood back and listened to just about enough. Since he’d brought the woman to the house to talk to the others, he felt responsible for her. And as the responsible one, he felt obliged to protect her from the likes of someone like his oldest brother, who was acting surly even for Mike.

      “Why don’t you back off, Mike, and let her talk?” Rafe suggested in a voice that was deceptively calm. “I’m sure there’ll be a contract drawn up and if it doesn’t have the numbers on it that she’s telling us, then Dad doesn’t have to sign it and they’ll go find their property somewhere else.”

      Val looked from one member of the family to another. She did not want to be the source of discord between these brothers. But she really liked what she saw, both the exterior and the interior of the place. The more she saw, the more perfect this ranch house seemed to her. She was certain that the director would feel the same way.

      “There’s another reason to consider agreeing to having my boss film here,” she told them. If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. She just had to do everything to convince them.

      “You having second thoughts about that sum you waved in front of us?” Mike asked.

      “No, what I was going to point out is that the crew will be in town for the duration of the shoot, which at this point will be six or eight weeks. That means that for six to eight weeks, they’ll be eating here and spending money here. You can’t tell me that your town couldn’t use that kind of a boost in business, especially in this economy,” she said, looking from one man to the other.

      Gotcha, she thought in satisfaction.

      Chapter Four

      “She does have a point,” Rafe said, addressing his words to his father.

      Their father insisted that they all have an equal voice when it came to matters that affected the ranch, but it was understood among the siblings that it was usually Miguel Sr. who, by mutual agreement, had the absolute final say. They all respected his judgment and knew that he had their best interests, as well as the best interest of the ranch, at heart.

      Listening, Miguel nodded, then looked back at the woman who had caused such a stir in their lives with her proposal and, unless he missed his guess, with her very presence. He had seen the look in Raphael’s eyes when his son had brought her into the house.

      Saw, too, the interest that arose in Ramon’s eyes when his youngest son had walked in. Miguel sincerely hoped that there would be no trouble between the brothers because of it. They, like their other brothers, were both handsome young men and while Raphael attracted his fair share of women, it was Ramon, his youngest, who was the playboy, the one who seemed determined to have as much fun as humanly possible, all the while eluding any serious entanglements that might be in the offing.

      He wanted to see all of his sons married off, but Ramon gave him the most concern in that department. If any of his sons seemed bent on being an eternal bachelor, it was Ramon.

      “I think that we will need to talk this matter over among ourselves,” Miguel told the young woman in his usual gentle, quiet cadence. “If this man who you are working for does decide that he wants to use our home and land for his...background, you call it?” She nodded in response and he continued, repeating, “If he wants it, then we will decide. Until then,” Miguel gestured vaguely about the room, indicating that his words referred to anything that they had, “please feel