Almost A Bravo. Christine Rimmer

that she’d taken their real sister’s place, while the true Aislinn had gone off to California to become Hollywood royalty.

       Later for all that.

      “I’ve been thinking about Mom,” she began. “About the story she always told me, that I was born in Montedoro.”

      “The Montedoro trip.” Connor mock-saluted with his glass of beer. “Mom just had to go there, even though she was almost eight months’ pregnant with you.”

      “And, of course,” Liam added, “she and Dad took us along—not that I remember a thing about it. I was what, three?”

      And Matt had been five, Connor four. Daniel, seven at the time, would probably remember the most of the four of them. Too bad he was off somewhere in paradise with Keely.

      Matt volunteered, “I kind of remember the Prince’s Palace. Huge and white, up there on that hill overlooking the harbor. And I remember meeting Uncle Evan and his wife, the princess.” Their dad’s brother, once an actor, had married Montedoro’s ruling princess. Matt went on, “But I’m drawing a complete blank on the villa we stayed at—the one where you were born, I mean. Didn’t you go to Montedoro to check it out, after college?”

      She licked the beer mustache from her upper lip. “I did, yeah, the summer after my senior year. The old count and countess had died. The people living at Villa Della Torre invited me in for coffee and listened politely when I told them that I’d been born in their house. But they had nothing to tell me. They’d never even met the count or the countess. I stayed at the palace during that trip. Uncle Evan and Her Serene Highness were so nice to me. They remembered your visit all those years before, remembered that Mom had been pregnant, but they said that they hadn’t realized that Mom had given birth there, in the principality.” At the time, Aislinn had been kind of disappointed that they didn’t remember—disappointed, but not the least alarmed.

      Not like now, when her whole world felt turned upside down, spinning in dizzying circles, way too fast.

      She glanced at Connor again. “You sure you don’t remember anything?”

      He took a gulp of beer. “Mom and Dad were always hauling us along with them to the far corners of the earth. The trips are kind of a blur to me. Sorry, I’ve got nothing.”

      Liam said, “Something’s off with you...”

      “Yeah,” Connor agreed. “What’s going on?”

      Guilt took a good poke at her, for keeping them in the dark. But she just couldn’t go there. Not yet. “I was only wondering about how it all happened, you know, on the day I was born?”

      Matt tipped his head to the side, studying her. “You’ve got a problem, haven’t you, Ais? And you don’t want to tell us what.”

      She couldn’t outright lie to them—but she just wasn’t ready to tell what she knew. “It’s complicated. I don’t want to get into it, not right yet.”

      “Anything we can do?” asked Liam.

      She caught her lower lip between her teeth and shook her head.

      Matt put his massive arm around her. “You call. We’re there.”

      She let herself lean into him, as if he could ground her somehow, keep her tethered to dry land so she wouldn’t go bobbing wildly off into nowhere, a tiny boat set adrift in a churning, angry sea.

      * * *

      After the disastrous visit to Kircher and Anders, Jax had gone straight back to Wild River and spent several hours in his study finding out everything he could about Aislinn Bravo. She kept public profiles on social media, so he learned a lot there. He also called a few people he knew in Valentine Bay and pumped them for anything they knew about Aislinn and the Bravo family.

      The next day, he returned to Kircher and Anders. Kip ushered him back to his corner office and shut the door.

      “I’ve got questions,” Jax said, as he settled into a leather guest chair. “Starting with, can the will be broken?”

      “I’m sorry, but no. Martin Durand had an absolute right to disburse his worldly goods in any way he chose and his will is legally airtight.”

      “Wild River belonged to my aunt. She left it to Martin, but it was always supposed to go to me when he died.”

      Anders adjusted his glasses, braced his elbows on the arms of his swivel chair and steepled his fingers. “There’s not a lot of hope in trying to hang a case on that.”

      “But in his last letter, Martin admitted outright that he and my aunt had an understanding that the ranch should go to me.”

      “Yes. You could argue that. And the rebuttal would be that he did leave you Wild River, just with certain stipulations.”

      “What about Aislinn Bravo? Is she really his daughter?”

      “Jaxon, I have no idea if she is or she isn’t. You would need a paternity test to get a definitive answer to that question. And even if such a test proved that she and Martin shared no DNA, the will would most likely stand.”

      Was Anders hinting at an angle there? “‘Most likely’?”

      “If you proved she wasn’t his daughter, then you could use his last letter as evidence that he included her in his will believing she was his biological child. It’s a stretch, but you might challenge the will by arguing that Martin would never have left her anything if he knew she wasn’t his.”

      “That sounds weak.”

      “Correct. It’s weak. And your suit would likely fail. Plus, by the time you obtained DNA samples not only from Aislinn Bravo, but from Martin’s remains and then hashed it all out in court, Wild River would already be sold, anyway.”

      Jax sat back in the guest chair. “You’re my lawyer now.”

      Anders granted him a thin smile. “And I’m pleased to help you in any way I can.”

      “Got any suggestions to get me out of this mess?”

      “As your lawyer, I would advise you to marry Aislinn Bravo and remain married to her for the next three months.”

      “I didn’t need a lawyer to figure that out, Kip—and in spite of Martin’s claim that the woman was once in love with me, so far she’s not jumping at the chance to get my ring on her finger.”

      “I’m sorry, Jaxon. Truly. But there is no way I can help you with that. Give her a little time.”

      “Time? There are six days left until we have to be married.”

      “Look at it this way. If she doesn’t agree from the goodness of her heart, maybe she’ll think of a use for the money. Not many people would turn down a chance at fifty thousand dollars.”

      * * *

      It was just after noon and Aislinn was selling a ceramic sculpture to a regular customer at Sand & Sea when Jaxon called. She had her phone right there on the register counter, set to vibrate. It spun halfway around and lit up with his name, because she’d programmed it into her phone, ready to go as soon as she felt she could deal with him.

      “Go ahead,” said the customer. “Answer it. I’m in no hurry.”

      But Aislinn was so far from ready to talk to Jax again. “I’ll call him back later.” She gave the customer a big smile and let the call go to voice mail.

      Later didn’t come—not that day, anyway. It was rude of her not to pick up or even listen to the message he’d left, and she was sorry. But she needed more answers before she faced his demands.

      When she got off at four, she called Valentine House, where her great-uncle Percy and great-aunt Daffodil lived. They were brother and sister, Percy and Daffy, the last of the Valentines. Neither had ever married and they still lived in the house where they’d