Off Limits Lovers. Reese Ryan

surprise, to be sure.

      Roarke was an attorney. Though, much to his father’s chagrin, he’d chosen not to work for Perry Holdings. Instead, his Dallas-based civil law practice represented underserved clients who typically couldn’t afford to pay a retainer up front. Still, from his office in Dallas, he’d taken an active role in helping to clear his father of the charges that had been leveled against him.

      Sterling Perry had the ethics of a rattlesnake. It sickened Roarke that he’d spent countless hours trying to defend the man when he had clients whose cases required his full attention.

      Most sons would defend their fathers against such accusations with their last breaths. Even if their fathers weren’t bastions of decency, the familial bond made them want to believe the best of their fathers.

      Roarke and Sterling Perry shared no such bond.

      He was the youngest of the Roarke brood and Sterling’s only son. But he was by no means the apple of his father’s eye. A reality that had pained him throughout his childhood.

      No matter what he did, or how hard he tried, his father never gushed with pride, the way he had over even the smallest accomplishments of his three older sisters. As a young boy, he’d been starved for his father’s approval. As a teenager, he’d resolved himself to the fact that there was nothing he could do to earn the man’s affections.

      Roarke could believe a host of horrible things about Sterling Perry. That he was running a Ponzi scheme simply wasn’t one of them.

      His father had considered Bernie Madoff and his ilk delusional rubes for thinking they could pull off such a scheme. Besides, Perry Holdings Inc. was flush with cash. There was no earthly reason his father would’ve been enticed to take such a risk.

      Those were the reasons he firmly believed in his father’s innocence. Not because they shared a surname.

      But even his father’s arrest hadn’t been reason enough for him to come home. He’d worked on the case and consulted with his father’s lawyers from his office in Dallas.

      He’d come home for one reason. At his sister Angela’s request, he was here to prove, once and for all, he was not the son of Ryder Currin—the sworn enemy of their father and the man his sister had been seeing for the past several months.

      Angela had called him in Dallas, panicked after she’d met with an old family friend. Lavinia Cardwell was a wealthy local philanthropist, a major contributor to the Texas Cattleman’s Club, and a notorious gossip.

      Lavinia had informed his sister about the rumor that he was really Ryder Currin’s son. A rumor Roarke was well aware that his own father believed, though he’d never, ever mentioned it to any of them. His sister had asked Ryder to prove that it wasn’t true by agreeing to a paternity test.

      To Ryder’s credit, he had.

      Roarke didn’t believe the rumors, but if it would save his sister’s sanity and finally put those old rumors to bed, it would be worth it.

      He pulled the SUV up to the guard post on his family’s vast estate and greeted the older man who’d been the head security guard since Roarke was a teen.

      “Good to see you, Mr. Perry.” A slow smile spread across Ben Mattison’s face as he reached out to shake his hand. “Your family is eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

      “You mean my sisters are eagerly awaiting my arrival.” Roarke stared at the house, his jaw tense. When he looked back at Ben, there was a slight downturn of the man’s mouth. An all too familiar look of pity dimmed his eyes.

      “If you don’t mind me saying, sir, I’m quite sure the old man misses you, too.” Ben forced a smile as he tipped his hat and pushed the button to open the gate.

      Roarke acknowledged the man’s words with a nod, but time and experience had taught him the folly of allowing himself to believe them.

      He entered the slowly opening iron gate and drove toward the sprawling stone mansion that had always reminded him of a castle out of place amid the pastures and elegant barns. By the time he arrived at the house and parked in the drive, Roarke’s three sisters were already assembled on the large porch.

      “Baby brother!” Esme, six years his senior, squealed, hugging him as soon as he exited the vehicle.

      “You realize I’m almost thirty, right?” he asked as he released her.

      “You realize I’ll be calling you that when you’re seventy, right?” she shot back, her blue eyes sparkling.

      “Roarke!” Melinda ruffled his hair, much darker blond than her own, and hugged him tight. She was one of the fraternal twins and eleven years his senior. “It’s about time you came home for a visit.”

      “I know.” Roarke hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his sisters. Surrounded by the trio of willowy blondes who he knew loved him without question, the tired excuses he usually made for not coming home felt lame, even to him. “But I’m here now. And I came bearing gifts. Take a look in the back seat.”

      Esme squealed again and she and Melinda were chattering about Farrah’s pies as Angela approached him and hugged him tight.

      “Thank you so much for coming, Roarke. This means a lot to all of us, including Dad.” Angela’s gaze dropped when he gave her an incredulous frown. “But especially to me.”

      Roarke gathered his bags, and Angela took the leather messenger bag from him as they headed toward the house trailing behind Esme and Melinda, each carrying a pie.

      He draped an arm over Angela’s shoulder and lowered his voice, so only she could hear him. “By tomorrow night, you’ll have a definitive answer. Then everything should be fine between you and Ryder.”

      “I don’t know.” She glanced up at him. “You should’ve seen his face when I confronted him about the rumor.”

      “Was he angry?” Roarke regarded his sister with concern.

      “Worse. He was genuinely hurt that I wouldn’t just accept his assertion that you couldn’t possibly be his son.” Her blue eyes glistened with tears. “I think maybe you were right. It may be impossible for us to recover from this.”

      “Wasn’t the paternity test Ryder’s idea?”

      She nodded, quickly wiping away tears. “He was determined to prove it isn’t true. He insists that he and Mom were only good friends. That he would never have... That they didn’t...”

      Angela hadn’t been able to finish the thought, and Roarke was glad. He didn’t want to contemplate the possibility. Their mother had died in a car crash the year he’d graduated high school. Without her as a buffer between him and his father and with his sisters off on their own, his time with Sterling had been intolerable. They’d both said things they could never take back. And at the end of that awful summer, he hadn’t been able to leave for college fast enough.

      “I understand how unsettling this must be for both of you. Just focus on one objective at a time. First resolve this concern. Then you two can address any issues of trust it may have caused.” He’d said it as if it were the simplest thing in the world, despite knowing otherwise.

      Angela forced a smile and nodded. “I might need to impose on you for one more thing, Roarke. Ryder was supposed to be my date for the American Cancer Society gala this weekend. I have to be there to represent Perry Holdings. I can’t let it seem as if we’re cowering and hiding while this investigation is going on. As if we believe Dad has done something wrong.”

      Roarke sighed and nodded. He’d hoped to get in and out quickly, seeing as few people in this town as necessary. But he wouldn’t leave Angela sullen and alone at what he knew to be one of her favorite society events. “If you and Ryder haven’t patched things up by then, I’ll be your plus-one.”

      “Thanks, little brother.” She slipped an arm around him. “I’m glad you’re home. And one more thing...