Chapter 1

The beautiful spring day was lost on him. After the usual stiflingly formal dinner at the mansion, with the incessantly stiff monologue by his father, he had decided to take his horse out to clear his head.

The brisk wind rifling through the surrounding trees stirred his thick dark hair and sent slight chills through the inadequate jacket he had worn for supper.

But he had intended to escape and had not considered grabbing his jacket. His horse, Diablo, was stabled in the large barn and curried and fed for the requisite Sunday dinners when he came.

The conversation had been the same. He was thirty-two years old, the heir to an immense fortune, and would have to take his rightful place in the company and society. A suitable wife was picked out for him. Sara Pendelton was of superb breeding and impeccable lineage.

Landen was restless and dissatisfied. The only good thing about all this was that he returned to his flat, where he was left in peace. He had also come to a decision that he knew would cause a bloody furor when he announced it.

Reining in the magnificent creature that was always attuned to his mood, he dismounted, looping the reins over a nearby sapling. The land was green and lush.

The constant rain had washed away the last vestiges of snow, leaving the place clean and fresh. Wildflowers were already springing up everywhere, lending their inimitable scent to the air.

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark blue slacks, he wandered over to the steady flow of water trickling over the smooth stones.

A week ago, he realized that he had to get away. He decided to go to America, where he would be free from the strangling hold of his family name and the enormous responsibilities that come with that name.

His sister had meekly married a man chosen for her, and he could see the unhappiness she was trying so desperately to hide.

"Why did you marry him?" Landen had demanded during one of their conversations. "For Christ's sake, Elizabeth, you do not love him."

"I am not like you." She responded in her calm, composed voice. "I do not feel the need to turn everything into an argument. I want a peaceful life, and Harry is not that bad."

"He is a dreadful bore and a snob."

"Then he is in good company."

Hunkering down, he dipped his hand in the water and watched the ripples his fingers created, a slight frown on his brow.

The argument had escalated when he was ordered to end the ‘sleazy' affair he was having with the woman he had been seeing for the past six months. He had been discreet - had to be. His parents rigidly kept the family and reputation stellar and above reproach.

When he reminded them that Prince Harry's reputation was far from above reproach, they sent him a cold accusing look that spoke volumes. They were distantly related to the crown; his parents took that to mean that their private lives should remain behind closed doors.

Rising lithely as the cold air sliced through his thin jacket, he mounted his horse and returned. He had everything ready for his trip and would wait until the last minute to inform them of his plans.

*****

Tessa held onto her temper with incredible difficulty. She had worked at the gallery for the past three years, and her job meant the world to her. But dealing with Ronald Lakes was becoming a chore. The man was not only flamboyantly gay but also spoiled and very difficult to please.

"Darling, are you listening to me?"

"Of course." Forcing a smile, she walked over to the exquisitely carved liquor cabinet to pour his sparkling water with the precise twist of lemons and a touch of gin and tonic. Placing it on the delicately shaped coaster, she walked it over and handed it to him.

"You are too good to me." He beamed at her as he cuddled the tiny Chihuahua closer to him.

"Bebe here has been particularly fussy this morning. Aren't you sweetheart?" He kissed the tiny nose before releasing his pet and turning to the graceful beauty before him. "We value your work here, darling; you know that. But Jerome is a cousin of mine and desperately needs a job. All I am asking is that you show him the ropes."

"You mean babysit him." She clarified, dark brown eyes flashing. "I have more than enough to do. I happen to be the one in charge of the gallery-"

"And, like I said, you are doing an excellent job. Why, just the other day, that dreadful Gloria Evans was saying that she asked you to source a painting for her, and you moved heaven and earth to get her what she wanted."

"Which takes time." She ventured firmly. He had called to demand she attend a meeting at his loft. She had dropped everything to get here, only to discover that this discussion could have occurred over the phone. "You could have said all of this when you called." She pointed out.

"I wanted to see you," he told her with a pout. "I just got back from a rather disappointing cruise to the Caribbean, and you have no idea what kind of people they allow on these cruises—trashy starlets and people with more money than sense.

I spent the last few days sequestered inside my cabin and could not wait to return. But I had a look at the books, and I was impressed. That showing of the amateur artist was a brilliant idea."

"One that you were against."

He waved that away with one elegant hand. "I opposed the idea because we happen to be an elite gallery and cater to an exclusive clientele." His light blue eyes studied her, objectively admiring the graceful curves of her slender body draped in a chic baby blue pantsuit and a frilly orange blouse.

Her thick dark brown hair was permed, the thick length of it swept back into an elegant chignon at the nape of her long, graceful neck. Her makeup was flawless, and her caramel complexion was flawless. Discreet diamonds were at her lobes, and the subtle scent of her perfume wafted around his elegant morning room.

He had hired her because of her beauty but had come to admire her appreciation for the arts and her intuition about the job.

She had introduced innovative ideas that had turned the modest profit into something remarkable, and he could not afford to lose her. He was not there daily, and she was the reason he could flit all over the globe. She had come to him demanding a hefty increase in her salary, and at first, he had flatly refused until she threatened to quit.

"I don't rob you blind. When you are away, you can be confident that you can return and see everything in its place."

He had reluctantly agreed to what he thought was her outrageous demand, but he did not regret it. She was excellent, and the patrons loved her. He had witnessed her on the floor and her knowledge of every piece of art in the gallery.

"Darling, I know how busy you are, but I would be forever grateful to you if you would do me this tiny favor."

Resisting the urge to tell him what he could do with his request, she smiled and nodded. "Is that all?"

"For now, yes. I appreciate this, darling. By the way, Jerome is quite the catch and fancies himself quite the ladies' man."

"I am not interested." She told him coolly, nodding to the housekeeper who appeared as if by magic to hand her the light jacket she gave to her earlier. "I don't mix business with pleasure."

"Oh darling, you are such a stickler." Ronald chided. Pushing to his feet, he dismissed the woman. "I will walk her out." Sliding a hand through Tessa's arm, he added. "Jerome will be there in the afternoon."

*****

Landen folded his hands at the back of his head, his heavy-lidded green eyes watching as Jillian slipped out of the slinky dress she had worn to the party earlier. Too bad she was so unsuitable, he thought idly as she sashayed over to the bed to sit at his hip.

He had been seeing her for the past six months, and the sex was - well, it was satisfactory, and she was beautiful. A Scots through and through with her red hair and deep green eyes, she was eager and available to be with him whenever he called.

He had set her up in a flat in London and did not mind footing her expenses. He was generous to his lovers as long as he did not have to share them with anyone else.

He was steadfast on that. It was an arrangement, and they had to live up to their bargain. He was not getting rid of her as his parents had ordered. He would take his trip and return to start things back up with her.

"You are quiet," Jillian observed a trifle anxiously. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Lifting a hand, he slowly trailed his fingers down her milky white arm.

"Talking is not something I do whenever I am here."

"Would you like a glass of wine?"

She knew she was not in his league, not by a long shot, and was desperately eager to entertain him even when they were not in bed.

"Wine?" His dark brows lifted as he sent her an amused stare.

A blush stained her cheek as she wondered if he was making fun of her. He was such a generous lover, even though he held something back. He was very meticulous, very thorough, and made sure she experienced heights of pleasure, but she had a sinking feeling that she was the only one getting the pleasure.

"I know the type you like." Her Scottish brogue had been thick when she came to London, and since she had been with Landen, she had been trying to get rid of it. His English accent was perfect, and his diction was excellent.

He was an educated man from a very wealthy family, so that was to be expected. He had not said anything about the difference in her diction or that she was studying the different types of liquors and purchasing the ones he favored.

"And I appreciate your effort making me feel at home. However, the resources I give you will be spent on you." Tugging her hand, he shifted so that she landed next to him. "I don't need wine." His voice lowered as she tilted her chin. "This is enough."

*****

"What did the old fairy want?" Genevieve asked as Tessa strode in and dumped her jacket and purse on her desk.

Sending her friend and coworker a pained glance at the slur on their boss, she eased out of the heels and slipped into comfortable flats.

"You are going to get yourself fired one of these days." Moving behind her desk, she shifted through her messages. "I would not be surprised if he has hidden cameras everywhere." Looking up, she gave the older woman a wry look. "Or the person he is sending here plans to spy on us."

"What person?" Genny asked with a frown.

"His name is Jerome, and according to Ronald, he is some sort of family. We are supposed to show him the ropes."

"That old bitch! Like we have nothing better to do. He called you to his fancy loft just to drop that on you?"

"Yes. He can because he signs the damn paycheck." Glancing at her watch, she grimaced and realized she had wasted the entire morning running to Ronald's place. "The shipment-"

"Came early. I had the guys put them in the storage room."

"And Mrs. Graham is on her way over."

"We both know that old bat is very particular and does not want anyone else attending to her except you." Genny waved a hand. "I will take care of the unwanted relative. You go ahead."

With a nod, Tessa slipped out of the flats and into her heels. The heels pin her little toes, but she had an image to portray. The clientele they catered to were people of tremendous means who were also very particular about their purchases.

It was too early for the afternoon crowd, but people were milling around, and several return clients were making purchases. The gallery took up several blocks of the trendy business district.

It was a split-level building with glossy marble tiles, towering white columns, and sturdy walls with easels scattered around strategically displaying childlike artwork by lesser-known artists.

She had instituted a learning program and persuaded well-known artists like Jackson and Jason Colby to come in for two hours a week to showcase their talents and do a tutorial.

Jackson had balked at the idea at first, a frown of distaste on his handsome face. "I am not a tutor, and trying to teach someone to be artistic wastes time. You are either an artist or you are not."

"Sometimes the talent just needs coaxing." When he turned her down flat, she had enlisted the aid of his wife, Jerri, who was his only weakness.

He had given her a blistering with his tongue and accused her of forcing his hand. "You are going to love it." She had told him with confidence that had served her well over the years.

He had not admitted it to her, but he turned up weekly and engaged with his adoring students, appearing to enjoy their company the way they looked forward to seeing him. He was enigmatic and intimidating, but she liked him.

And she had seen him with his wife. She had caught the tender moment one night when they had been showcasing some of his works at the gallery.

It had been an intensely private moment between the couple. She had been on her way to a room in the back when she saw them locked in a passionate embrace that had stunned her and had her heart racing. She had stood there rooted to the spot for a few seconds as she stared at the couple.

His arms had been locked around his wife's waist, and her body pressed against him, which left no room for anything else. She had withdrawn immediately but could not take her eyes off them for the rest of the night and stop the sudden yearning to have something like that.

She had been single for the past two years and told herself she was concentrating on her career. She was not alone; her stepbrother and stepsister lived a few miles away and were close.

But after the death of her mother when she was seventeen, her dad married two years after that, adopting her stepmother's two children from a previous relationship. Her dad died three years ago, and then her stepmother succumbed to cancer a year later.

She was thirty years old, and both her step-siblings had tried to set her up with friends, but after the disaster of the relationship with Lionel two years ago, she was extremely cautious.

She had been on her way to falling in love with what she thought was the perfect guy, and he turned out to be a lecher who was married and had no intention of leaving his wife.

Shaking off the humiliating memories, she put a smile on her lips and met the client.

*****

Stepping onto the porch, Tessa dumped her heavy tote on the porch swing before bounding down the steps and going around the back to check on her garden.

She had been cultivating the roses since spring appeared and wanted to see how they were doing. Bending down, she touched the fragile petals lovingly and sniffed the welcome aroma drifting upwards.

Her mind traveled back to the meeting with their newest staff member. Jerome was different from what she expected and seemed enthusiastic about learning about the gallery.

"I know Ronald foisted me on you guys, but I am here to let you know that I aim to do my part."

"You had better." She had warned him. "Because relative or not, I will not tolerate any slacking off, and you will not get any special treatment."

He nodded solemnly. "Ronald told me you were a no-nonsense type of person. The truth is, I am going to art school, and working here will allow me to see the artwork firsthand. And I want to learn from the best. I paint in charcoal."

"I would love to see what you have."

"I am shy about showing my work. I somehow think I am not good enough yet."

"You will never know until you show someone."

"I will think about it."

Straightening, she went to get the sprinkler. She spent several minutes watering the flowers before turning in. Her phone rang as soon as she opened the door. Digging it out of her bag, she was pleased to see it was her stepsister.

"Hi."

"Hi. Just getting home?"

"Yep." Dumping her things on the table inside the foyer, she secured the alarm before heading into the kitchen. "How was work?" Karen was an ER nurse at the local hospital.

"Hectic. Brian and I want to have you over for dinner on Sunday," she said., referring to her brother.

"Not if it includes another blind date," she said firmly, plunking the kettle on top of the stove and turning the knob. "The last one was a disaster. The guy was handsy and disgusting."

"He is a doctor."

"Like that makes a damn difference." Digging through her pantry, she took out the Earl Grey box and a pouch. "It does mean he is a douchebag with a medical degree."

Karen laughed, tugging a smile from her.

"Okay, fine. No more blind dates. Brian is celebrating his promotion at the law firm."

"He made partner?"

"He did, and we would like to celebrate. Just the three of us."

"What happened to Jake?" She asked, referring to Karen's husband.

"Out of town," Karen said lightly.

"Anything you want to talk about?" Pouring the water over the pouch, Tessa took the cup with her and sat around the counter.

"I had a piss poor day at work, and I am dead on my feet. I certainly do not want to talk about my failing marriage."

"Honey, is it that bad?" She asked in concern.

"Jake is more out than in, which is good because when he is here, we argue a lot." She sighed. "I don't mean to dump this on you-"

"You are not dumping; you are sharing. And I must ask, why are you so determined to find me a man when your life is in such a mess?"

Karen chuckled. "I keep thinking that you might do better than me. You are gorgeous and much too beautiful to be alone. Anyway, I just wanted to check-in. We have not spoken to each other in a week."

"Has it been that long?" She asked in surprise as she blew on the liquid.

"The last time we got together or spoke to each other was last Saturday. I told Brian I would make the call. Can we count on you?"

"I should be able to make it."

"Good. Talk soon."

Hanging up, Tessa wrapped her hands around the cup. As stepfamily went, she could have done worse. She was resentful when her dad announced that he was interested in someone.

That was worse when he announced the woman was coming with two children. But Kathryn had made her feel comfortable and told her from the beginning that she was not about to take the place of Tessa's mom.

"Your dad told me you were very close to her, and I am not going to make the situation worse by trying to be her." And she had been faithful to her word. Sliding off the stool, she took the tea upstairs to shower.