The Billionaire Renegade. Catherine Mann

to take a breather, given the tension pulsing from both the Steeles and the Mikkelsons. There’d been recent allegations made that someone in the Mikkelson family could have been involved in Brea’s disappearance. It seemed inconceivable, but then so did the possibility that Brea could truly be alive.

      These days, anything was possible.

      Conrad tossed his tablet into his briefcase. Since he’d weighed in with his written feedback, Conrad took the opportunity to step out of this portion of the meeting.

      Once back in the corridor, he turned on his cell and it immediately buzzed with missed calls and texts.

      And right at the top of the list of those who’d phoned?

      Felicity Hunt.

      Felicity tried not to stare at her phone on her kitchen counter.

      Calling Conrad had been an impulsive move, which was surprising in and of itself since she wasn’t the impulsive type. But when a friend from work had texted her with questions about a rumor regarding Breanna Steele... Felicity had found herself remembering a discussion with Conrad about how devastating his niece’s disappearance had been for him.

      Felicity punched in Conrad’s number before she could think.

      Property in Alaska was costly and social workers didn’t bring in large paychecks. Since she lived alone and spent most of her free time at work, it made sense to rent a one-bedroom apartment. She hadn’t brought anything from Texas with her anyway, preferring to leave all her furniture and the bad memories associated with it behind her.

      Her living area was tight, but comfy, with a generic tan sofa alongside a space-saver rattan chair, and her one indulgence—a fat, raspberry-colored reading chair perched by the window and under a skylight. She missed her Texas sun but couldn’t deny the magnificence of the views here were unrivaled.

      She’d wanted a place far from memories of her painful past, and she’d found a haven here.

      Turning back to her coffeepot, she tapped the “water only” feature to make tea. She pulled a mug from the cabinet, a stoneware piece she’d bought at a local festival. Leaving her belongings behind had offered the opportunity to explore new styles and reinvent herself.

      She’d kept the most important things in her life, letters from people who cared about her. Foster siblings. Her final foster parents. A social worker who’d made a world of difference in her life.

      Her work meant everything to her. She still couldn’t ever turn her back on the career that gave her purpose. Her life’s calling was to make the same difference for helpless children.

      A mantra she repeated to herself daily.

      More than once daily lately, since Conrad Steele had entered her world.

      She blew in her tea before taking a sip. The warmth soothed her nerves.

      Her phone chimed, and she reached for the cell while lifting her mug for another drink. The name on the screen stilled her hand.

       Conrad Steele.

      Her heart leaped at the incoming call, too much. But she wasn’t going to play games by making it ring longer. She was an adult.

      She thumbed the speakerphone. “Hello, Conrad.”

      “I see I missed a call from you.”

      In spite of insisting to herself this was no big deal, she found herself tongue-tied. “I don’t want to be presumptuous. I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

      “Things are still on track for the hospital donations. No need to be concerned.”

      She hated that he thought her reason for calling could be only self-serving. “I heard there’s news about your niece. I don’t want to pry and invade your family’s privacy, but I thought of you—”

      “You’re not prying. You’re being thoughtful. Thank you. I know you have ties to the family through your friendship with Tally. You care.”

      “I do.”

      His heavy exhale filled the phone. “Brea has reached out. We don’t know the full story as to where she’s been and why she came back the way she did, pretending to be someone else. But at least we’re going to have answers.”

      “This has to be so difficult for you.”

      “My brother is tied in knots,” he said tightly.

      She knew him well enough to realize how deeply this would affect him, too. He was close to his family. One of the things that drew her to him. “And you’re taking a backseat to your own feelings since you’re an uncle.”

      “Are you using those counselor skills on me?”

      “It’s second nature, I guess.” She just hadn’t thought she was quite so transparent. Or maybe he was that perceptive. Either way, she needed to choose her words more carefully.

      “I’ll be fine. Thank you again for the concern,” he said softly before continuing. “Was there another reason for your call?”

      She needed to work with him, but also needed him to understand her position. “I got a text from a coworker with information I thought I should pass along.”

      “What kind of information?”

      “The rumors are already churning about Milla Jones possibly being your missing niece. Photos of Milla—Brea—have been circulating.”

      “Yes, we had those released when we first started our investigation.”

      “Everyone in the break room has been talking about the volunteer who filed a report about the same woman delivering flowers to patients one night.” She toyed with her lanyard. “The volunteer said she plans to notify your family, but I wanted to make sure you knew.”

      “Delivering flowers? That’s strange.”

      “My friend said a volunteer came to her and explained she was approached by Milla and paid a large sum of money to loan her volunteer smock. Unethical on so many levels, which is why she didn’t come forward sooner.”

      “How long ago did this happen?”

      “Last fall. I’m sure the Steele family will be notified through official channels soon.”

      “Last fall? That’s around the time when Naomi’s twins were born.”

      A chill went through her to think of Breanna Steele stalking the halls incognito to see her twin’s newborn babies. Hospital security was paramount, especially in the maternity ward. The babies all wore bracelets that would set off alarms if they were taken from the floor. But still. This was more than a little unsettling.

      What had happened to Breanna that caused her to distrust her own family so deeply? A sense of foreboding rolled over Felicity, born of too many years on the job, telling her that finding the woman wasn’t going to bring an easy, happy reunion.

      Conrad cleared his throat. “Thank you for sharing that information. I’ll pass it along.”

      “I hope it helps in some way.”

      “Every piece of this crazy puzzle is helpful.” He paused for a moment. “Was there something else?”

      “Actually, yes. I want us to start fresh for the good of the hospital project.”

      “What do you mean by starting fresh?”

      “A working friendship, on neutral ground.” She couldn’t be any more succinct than that.

      “I’ve made it clear I want more. Is that going to be a problem for you?”

      “And it’s clear we have to work together. I can be professional.” She hoped. If only he wasn’t so damn hot.

      Except she knew it was more than that. There were plenty of attractive men in the workplace and she didn’t