Tempting The Texan. Maureen Child

Ghosts of his childhood, memories of his mother. But mostly, it was the memories of his week with Irina that plagued him. Being in this house made those ghostly images in his mind more real. More corporeal. As if he could reach out and touch them, bring back those moments in time to relive at his leisure.

      His gaze swept her up and down in a blink of an eye, taking in everything, missing nothing. Her long, wavy hair was still damp, but now she wore a loose-fitting yellow jersey shirt with a neckline wide enough to bare her shoulders. At five feet ten inches tall, Irina had legs that were long and shapely, though at the moment they were covered by a pair of gray yoga pants that clung to every inch. Black ballet flats were on her feet.

      Kellan’s whole body tensed.

      Even dressed casually, Irina was more beautiful than any other woman would have been decked out in diamonds. Heat rushed through him. The sparks in her eyes intrigued him. There was a pride and a self-confidence about her now and he liked it. Irina had once told him that in Russia, she’d been a model, but when he’d known her, she’d been shy, unsure of herself. As if she were lost and hadn’t been able to find her way.

      This Irina, strong enough to meet his gaze and lift her chin in defiance, was someone new, and damned if she wasn’t even more attractive.

      She crossed her arms over her chest, unconsciously lifting her breasts, making his mouth go dry. “What were you doing in my room? Going through my things?”

      “Didn’t know that was your room,” he said shortly. “I thought it was Miranda’s.”

      One of her expertly shaped eyebrows lifted and he knew what she was thinking.

      “God, no.” He shuddered at the idea of sex with his late father’s ex. Even if it hadn’t been more than a little gross to contemplate sex with his father’s former lover, he wouldn’t have been interested in Miranda. She was too…practiced at seduction. “Trust me,” he said. “It’s not that.”

      “All right.” Her arms dropped to her sides. “Then why were you looking for her room?”

      He took a deep breath and gritted his teeth. Kellan wasn’t used to explaining himself. Mostly, he did what he wanted when he wanted and screw whoever didn’t like it. Made life easier. Back in the day, Irina never would have confronted him like this. And maybe that was why he was willing to answer her. Damned if he didn’t admire the fire in her eyes. “For something to explain why Buck did what he did. They read his will today and dear old Dad left her everything.”

      “Yes, I know. Kace told me earlier today when he came to tell me about the inheritance Buckley left to me.”

      Surprise had him speechless for a moment. Kellan never would have imagined Buckley Blackwood even noticing a maid in his house, let alone naming her in his will. Buck hadn’t been exactly known for being a kind soul. He had marched through his life, single-mindedly focused on his business, his fortune.

      Finally, he recovered enough to ask, “My father left you something?”

      “Is it really so shocking? Your father was very good to me.”

      “I know you always thought so.” He shook his head as if denying what he was saying. “But Buck was never described as generous.”

      “Fine. Think that if it comforts you.”

      “Comforts me?” Kellan stared at her for a long minute. “What the hell does that mean?”

      “Never mind.” Irina swung her long hair back over her shoulder and her shirt dipped just a bit lower over her upper arm. “You’ve obviously set your mind on who you believe your father was. I can’t change your mind.”

      Maybe Buck was good to Irina, but Kellan couldn’t be budged from his own perspective on his father. Hell, he’d lived it, hadn’t he?

      “But you haven’t answered me. Why did you want to look through Miranda’s things?”

      Hard to keep his mind on business when he was fantasizing about sliding that shirt all the way off, then—“I heard Buck sent her a letter. I want to see it. Need to know what’s in it.”

      “It’s none of your business.”

      “Of course it’s my business,” he snapped and rubbed one hand across the back of his neck. “I need to know what she knows. I need to understand why Buck left her everything.”

      For a long moment, Irina just watched him, and the steady stare from her dark green eyes made him uneasy. For good reason, as it turned out.

      “No. I can’t help you, Kellan. And I won’t let you spy on Miranda.”

      Irritation flared to life inside him. “You can’t stop me.”

      “I can tell her what you did.”

      “Letting her know after the fact won’t change anything,” he said quickly.

      Even though she was standing between him and what he needed to do, he couldn’t help thinking that it was damned good to see her again. Too good. He should have been past this, Kellan told himself.

      He’d stayed away from her deliberately for years, because being close to her and not having her would have killed him. Hell, she was part of the reason he’d moved to Nashville. But even distance from her hadn’t been enough to wipe away the memory of her. She’d still been with him. In his dreams. In those quiet, waking moments when he didn’t have enough to occupy his thoughts.

      And every time she popped into his mind—way too often—he shut it down fast. He spent empty nights with other women telling himself that sex with them was just as good as it had been with Irina. Lies he wanted to believe because they made it all that much easier.

      But standing here, with her just out of arm’s reach, those lies rushed back to bite him in the ass. So naturally, he buried what he was feeling beneath the anger still riding him since the will reading.

      “Since when are you Miranda’s friend?” he asked. “You’re really ready to stand with her against me?”

      “And how do I owe loyalty to you? You disappeared, Kellan.”

      “I had to.”

      “Yes, I’m sure.” She entered the room but walked a wide path around him to do it. She dropped onto a corner of the couch, curled her legs up beneath her and tipped her head to one side to look up at him. “She’s Buck’s guest.”

      “Buck’s dead.”

      Emotion flashed briefly in her eyes. “I know. But this is his home—”

      “And mine,” he added.

      “Not for years,” she reminded him. “You walked away, Kellan. From your home. From your family. From Buck. From me.”

      And there it was. The past was in the room with them, with its hungry, snapping jaws, not really caring whom it bit into, just wanting the pain. The blood.

      He’d known that the minute they saw each other again, they’d have to relive this. He’d have to look at old decisions and would be forced to defend them. He didn’t know that he could.

      “I had to leave.” He shoved his hands into his pockets.

      Irina looked up at the man around whom she’d once built ridiculous dreams. The oldest son of the man she’d worked for—the man she owed so much. Buck had rescued her. Given her a chance she might never have had otherwise. She’d come to this house broken, to work as a maid, to go to school, to rebuild a life that had been shattered.

      Kellan was the man who had touched her in so many ways, he’d left her breathless. She’d trusted him, in spite of everything she’d already been through. She’d believed in him when she shouldn’t have. And then, he’d simply left