elaney zipped her suitcase and looked about her bedroom one last time. Nothing had changed since the day she’d walked out ten years ago. The rose wallpaper, the lace canopy, and her music collection were all just as she’d left them. Even the snapshots stuck to the vanity mirror were the same. Her things had been kept waiting for her, but instead of feeling comforting and welcoming, the room felt oppressive. The walls were closing in on her. She had to get out.

Now all she had to do was listen to the will and, of course, tell her mother she was leaving. Gwen would do her best to make Delaney feel guilty, and Delaney wasn’t looking forward to the confrontation.

She left the room and headed downstairs to Henry’s office to hear the reading of his will. She’d dressed for comfort in a sleeveless T-shirt dress made of soft blue cotton, and she’d shoved her feet into a pair of platform slides that she could kick off easily during the long drive ahead of her.

At the entrance to the office, a long-time friend of Henry’s, Frank Stuart, greeted her as if he were a doorman at the Ritz-Carlton. “Good morning, Miss Shaw,” he said as she walked into the room. Max Harrison, Henry’s estate lawyer, sat behind the heavy desk and looked up as Delaney entered. She shook his hand and spoke to him briefly before taking a seat beside her mother in the front row.

“Who isn’t here?” she asked, referring to the remaining empty chair next to hers.

“Nick.” Gwen sighed as she fingered the three strands of her pearl necklace. “Although I can’t imagine why Henry would provide for him in his will. He’d tried to reach out many times in the past few years, but Nick threw every attempt back in his father’s face.”

So Henry had attempted a reconciliation. She wasn’t really surprised. She’d always assumed since Henry had failed to produce a legitimate heir with Gwen, he’d eventually turn his attention to the son he’d always ignored.

Less than a minute later, Nick walked into the room, managing to look almost respectable in a pair of charcoal corduroys and a ribbed silk polo the same color as his eyes. Unlike the funeral, he’d dressed for the occasion. His hair was pulled back, and he’d left his earring at home. His gaze moved over the room, then he took the chair next to Delaney. She glanced up at him out of the corner of her eye, but he stared straight ahead, feet apart, his hands resting on his thighs. The clean scent of his aftershave teased her nose. She hadn’t spoken to him since he’d called her “wild thing” the night before. She’d ignored him all the way to her mother’s house, feeling the same humiliation she thought she’d overcome years ago. She had no intention of speaking to the jerk now.

“Thank you all for coming,” Max greeted, drawing Delaney’s attention. “In order to save time, I would ask that you hold all questions until I am finished.” He cleared his throat, squared the documents in front of him, and began in his smooth lawyer’s voice, “ ‘I, Henry Shaw, now of Truly, resident of Valley County, State of Idaho, do make and declare this to be my Last Will and Testament, hereby revoking all Wills and Codicils I have made before this.

“ ‘Article I: I nominate and appoint my trusted friend Frank Stuart as Executor of this Will. I request that no Executor or successor in such capacity shall be required to furnish any sureties on his official bond...’ ”

Delaney looked at a point behind Max’s head and listened with half an ear as he read the part of the will that outlined the duty of the executor. She didn’t care about executor duties. Her mind was filled with more important concerns, like her mother seated on one side and Nick on the other. The two disliked each other intensely. They always had, and the tension that filled the room was almost tangible.

Nick’s shoulder brushed Delaney’s as he placed his elbows on the arms of his chair. His shirt grazed her bare skin, then was gone. Delaney forced herself to remain perfectly still, as if the touch hadn’t happened, as if she hadn’t felt the smooth texture of his sleeve on her skin.

Max proceeded to the section of the will that provided for Henry’s long-time employees and his brothers at the Moose Lodge. Then he paused and Delaney returned her gaze to him. She watched him carefully set one page aside before he continued. “ ‘Article III: (A) I give and bequeath half of my tangible property and half of my estate not otherwise disposed of hereunder, together with any unexpired insurance policies thereon, to my wife, Gwen Shaw. Gwen was an excellent wife, and I loved her deeply.

“ ‘(B) To my daughter, Delaney Shaw, I give and bequeath the remainder of my tangible property and the remainder of my estate not otherwise disposed of hereunder on the condition that she reside strictly within the city limits of Truly, Idaho, and may not leave, for a period of one year so that she may look after her mother. The subsequent year to begin upon notification of this Will. If Delaney refuses to comply with the terms of this Will, the property referred to in this Article III (B) shall pass to my son, Nick Allegrezza.’ ”

“What does all that mean?” Delaney interrupted. Her mother’s sudden grasp on her arm was the only thing keeping her from jumping to her feet.

Max glanced at her, then returned his gaze to the document on the desk before him. “ ‘(C) I give to my son, Nick Allegrezza, the properties known as Angel Beach and Silver Creek, to do with as he wishes, provided that he refrain from entering into a sexual relationship with Delaney Shaw for one year. If Nick refuses, or goes against my wishes in regard to this stipulation, then the above property shall revert to Delaney Shaw.’ ”

Delaney sat rigid in her chair, feeling as if she’d been zapped with a stun gun. Heat flushed her face and her heart felt like it had stopped. Max’s voice continued for several more moments, but Delaney was too confused to listen. It was all too much to take in at one time, and she didn’t really understand most of what had been read. Except the last part forbidding Nick to “enter into a sexual relationship” with her. That part had been a slap directed at them both. A reminder of the past when Nick had used her to get back at Henry, and she’d begged him to do it. Even after his death, Henry wasn’t finished punishing her. She was so mortified she wanted to die. She wondered what Nick thought, but she was too afraid to look at him.

The lawyer finished and glanced up from the will. Silence filled the office, and no one spoke for several long moments, until Gwen voiced the question on everyone’s mind.

“Is that legal and binding?”

“Yes,” Max answered.

“So, I am to receive half of the estate free of conditions, yet in order for Delaney to inherit, she must stay in Truly for one year?”

“That’s correct.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Delaney scoffed, trying her best to forget about Nick and concentrate on her own bequest. “This is the 1990s. Henry can’t play God. This can’t be legal.”

“I assure you it is. In order to inherit your share, you must agree to the conditions expressed in the will.”

“Forget it.” Delaney stood. Her bags were packed. She wasn’t about to let Henry control her from the grave. “I’ll give my share to Mother.”

“You can’t. The bequest was conditional. You will receive your share of the estate on the condition you reside in Truly for one year. The estate is held in trust until after the provisionary period. In short, you can’t give your mother what you don’t have. And if you decided to reject the terms of the will, your portion of the estate will revert to Nick, not Gwen.”

And if Delaney did that, her mother would kill her. But Delaney didn’t care. She wasn’t going to sell her soul to spare her mother. “What if I contest the will?” she asked, becoming desperate.

“You can’t contest the will simply because you don’t like the provisions. You have to have grounds, such as lack of mental capacity or fraud.”

“Well, there you go.” Delaney lifted her hands, palms up. “Henry was obviously out of his mind.”

“I’m afraid the court would hold a different view. The provision has to be proven illegal or against public policy, and it is neither. It may be considered capricious, but it meets the requirements of the law. The fact is, Delaney, your portion of the estate is estimated at just over three million dollars. Henry has made you a very wealthy young woman. All you have to do is live in Truly for one year, and no court is going to consider the condition impossible to perform. You can accept or refuse. It’s that simple.”

Delaney sat back down, the breath knocked from her lungs. Three million. She’d assumed they were talking about several thousand.

“If you agree to the terms,” Max continued, “an adequate monthly allowance will be provided for your care and support.”

“When did Henry make this will?” Gwen wanted to know.

“Two months ago.”

Gwen nodded as if it all made perfect sense, but it didn’t. Not to Delaney.

“Do you have any questions, Nick?” Max asked.

“Yeah. Does one fuck constitute a sexual relationship?”

“Oh, my God!” Gwen gasped.

Delaney clenched her hands into fists and turned her gaze to him. His gray eyes burned with fury, and anger thinned his lips. That was okay with Delaney; she was furious, too. They stared at each other, two combatants spoiling for a fight. “You,” she said, lifting her chin and looking at him as if he were something she needed to scrape off her shoes, “are evil.”

“And what about oral sex?” Nick asked, keeping his gaze locked on Delaney.

“Uh... Nick,” Max spoke into the tension. “I don’t think we—”

“I think we do,” Nick interrupted. “Henry was obviously concerned about it. So concerned he included it in his will.” He turned his hard gaze to the lawyer. “I think we need to know the rules right up front so there’s no confusion.”

“I’m not confused,” Delaney told him.

“For instance,” Nick continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’ve never considered a one-night stand a relationship. Just two naked bodies rubbing up against each other, getting all sweaty, and having a good time. In the morning you wake up alone. No promises you never intend to keep. No commitment. No looking at each other over breakfast. Just sex.”

Max cleared his throat. “I believe Henry’s intent was no sexual contact at all.”

“How’s anyone going to know?”

Delaney glared at him. “Easy. I wouldn’t have sex with you to save my life.”

He looked at her and lifted a skeptical brow.

“Well,” Max interjected, “as executor, it is Frank Stuart’s duty to see that the terms are enforced.”

Nick turned his attention to the executor, who stood at the back of the room. “Are you going to spy on me, Frank? Peek in my windows?”

“No, Nick. I’ll take your word that you’ll agree to the conditions of the will.”

“I don’t know, Frank,” he said and turned his gaze to Delaney once again. His eyes lingered on her mouth before sliding down her throat to her breast. “She’s pretty hot. What if I just can’t control myself?”

“Stop it right now!” Gwen stood and pointed at Nick. “If Henry were here, you wouldn’t behave this way. If Henry were here, you’d have more respect.”

He looked at Gwen as he rose to his feet. “If Henry were here, I’d kick his ass for him.”

“He was your father!”

“He was nothing more than a sperm donor,” he scoffed, then he moved to the door and delivered one last parting shot before he left. “Too bad for all of us he was a one-shot wonder,” he said, leaving the room filled with stunned silence.

“Leave it to Nick to make everything unpleasant,” Gwen said after they heard the front door close. “Henry tried to make amends, but Nick rejected him every time. I think it’s because he’s always been jealous of Delaney. His behavior here today proves it, don’t you think?”

Delaney’s head began to pound. “I don’t know.” She raised her palms to the sides of her face. “I’ve never known why Nick does the things he does.” Nick had always been a mystery to her, even when they were kids. He’d always been unpredictable, and she’d never pretended to understand why he behaved the way he did. One day he acted like he could hardly tolerate her presence in the same town, then the very next day he might say something nice to her, or make the boys at her school stop teasing her. And just when she would start to think he was nice, he’d blindside her, leaving her stunned and gasping. Like today, and like the time he’d hit her between the eyes with a snowball. She’d been in the third grade, standing in front of the school, waiting for her mother to pick her up. She remembered standing to one side, watching Nick and a group of his friends build a snow fort by the flagpole. She remembered how his thick black hair and olive skin had been such a sharp contrast against all that white. He’d worn a navy wool sweater with leather patches on the shoulders, and his cheeks had turned red from the cold. She’d smiled at him, and he’d thrown a snowball at her and practically knocked her unconscious. She’d had to go to school with two black eyes, which eventually turned green and yellow before fading completely.

“What now?” Gwen asked, pulling Delaney’s attention from the past and Nick.

“If no one contests the will we can proceed fairly quick.” Max looked at Delaney. “Do you plan to challenge the will?”

“What’s the point? You made it clear that Henry’s provision for me was a take it or leave it proposition.”

“That’s correct.”

She should have known Henry would attach conditions to his will. She should have known he would try to make her take over his business, to control her and everyone else from the grave. Now all she had to do was choose. Money or her soul. Half an hour ago she would have said that her soul wasn’t for sale, but that had been before she’d heard the asking price. Half an hour ago everything had been so clear. Now suddenly the lines were blurred, and she didn’t know what to think anymore.

“Can I sell off Henry’s assets?”

“As soon as they legally belong to you.”

Three million dollars in exchange for one year of her life. After that, she could go anywhere she liked. Since leaving Truly ten years ago, she’d never stayed in one place for more than a few years. She always became too restless and edgy to stay in one place for very long. When the urge to move called, she always answered on the first ring. With all that money, she could go anywhere she wanted. Do whatever she wanted, maybe find a place she’d want to call home.

The last thing in the world she wanted was to move back to Truly. Her mother would make her crazy. She’d be crazy to stay here and give up a year of her life.

She’d be crazy if she didn’t.

The Jeep Wrangler slid to a stop a few feet from the burned remains of what had once been a large barn. The fire had burned so hot, the building had caved in on itself, leaving behind a pile of mostly unrecognizable debris. To the left, a blackened foundation, a heap of cinders, and shards of broken glass were all that was left of Henry’s tack shed.

Nick popped the Jeep’s clutch and killed the engine. He would have bet anything that the old man hadn’t intended to torch his horses too. He’d been there the morning after the fire when the coroner pulled what had been left of Henry from the ashes. Nick hadn’t expected to feel anything. He was surprised that he did.

Except for the five years Nick had lived and worked in Boise, he’d resided in the same small town as his father, both of them ignoring each other. It wasn’t until he and Louie had moved their construction company to Truly that Henry decided he would finally acknowledge Nick. Gwen had just turned forty and Henry finally accepted the fact that he would never father children with her. Time had run out, and he turned his attention to his only son. By then, Nick was in his late twenties and had no interest in a reconciliation with the man who’d always refused to acknowledge him. As far as he was concerned, Henry’s sudden interest was a case of too little too late.

But Henry was determined. He made Nick persistent offers of money or property. He offered him thousands of dollars to change his name to Shaw. When Nick refused, Henry doubled the offer. Nick promptly told him to shove it.

He offered Nick a share of his businesses if Nick would act like the son Henry wanted. “Come over for dinner,” as if that would make up for a lifetime of indifference. Nick turned him down.

Eventually though, they did enter into a somewhat strained coexistence. Nick gave his father the courtesy of listening to his offers and enticements before he refused. Even now, Nick had to admit some of the offers had been pretty good, but he’d easily turned them down. Henry accused him of obstinacy, but it was more disinterest than anything else. Nick just didn’t care anymore, but even if he’d been seriously tempted, everything had a price. Nothing was free. There was always a tradeoff. Quid pro quo.

Until six months ago. In an effort to bridge the gap between them, Henry gave Nick a very generous gift, a peace offering with no strings attached. He outright deeded him Crescent Bay. “So my grandchildren will always have the best beach in Truly,” he’d said.

Nick took the gift, and within a week, submitted plans to the city to develop condominiums on the five acres of beachfront property. The preliminary plan was approved remarkably fast, before Henry knew and could raise an objection. The fact that the old man didn’t find out until after the fact was incredible luck.

Henry had been furious. But he got over it quickly because there was something Henry wanted more than anything else. He’d wanted the one thing that only Nick could give him. He’d wanted a grandchild. A direct blood descendant. Henry had money and property and prestige, but he hadn’t had time. He’d been diagnosed with advanced prostate cancer. He’d known he was going to die.

“Just pick a woman,” Henry had ordered several months ago after barging into Nick’s downtown offices. “You should be able to get someone pregnant. God knows you’ve practiced enough to get it right.”

“I’ve told you, I’ve never met a woman I’d consider marrying.”

“You don’t have to get married, for God’s sake.”

Nick wasn’t willing to produce a bastard for anyone, and he hated Henry for suggesting it to him, his bastard son, as if the consequences were unimportant.

“You’re doing this to spite me. I’ll leave you everything when I’m gone. Everything. I’ve talked to my attorney, and I’ll have to leave Gwen a little something so she won’t contest my will, but you’ll get everything else. And all you have to do is get a woman pregnant before I die. If you can’t choose someone, I’ll pick the girl for you. Someone from a good family.”

Nick had shown him the door.

The cell phone chirped on the seat next to him, but he ignored it. He hadn’t been all that surprised when he’d learned the cause of Henry’s death had been a gunshot wound to the head and not the fire. He’d known Henry was getting worse, and Nick would have done the same thing.

Sheriff Crow had been the one to tell Nick that Henry had killed himself, but very few people knew the truth. Gwen wanted it that way. Henry had gone out on his own terms, but not before he’d created one hell of a will.

Nick had figured Henry would pull something in his will, but he’d never expected Henry to place the condition on what Nick did or didn’t do with Delaney. Why her? A real bad feeling tweaked the base of his skull, and he feared he knew the answer. It sounded perverse, but he had a feeling Henry was trying to pick the mother of his grandchild.

For reasons he didn’t want to examine too closely, Delaney had always spelled trouble for him. From the start. Like the time she’d been standing in front of the school bundled up in a fancy blue coat with a furry white collar, her blond hair a mass of shiny curls about her face. Her big brown eyes had looked into his, and a little smile had tilted her pink lips. His chest had grown tight and his throat closed. Then before he’d realized what he was doing, he’d picked up a snowball and nailed her in the forehead. He hadn’t known why he’d done it, but it had been the one and only time his mother took a belt to his behind. Not so much because he’d hit Delaney, but because he’d hit a girl. The next time he’d seen her at school, she’d looked like Zorro, with twin black eyes. He’d stared at her, feeling sick to his stomach and wishing he could race home and hide. He’d tried to apologize, but she’d always run away when she’d seen him coming. He guessed he didn’t blame her.

After all these years, she still had a way of getting to him. It was the way she looked at him sometimes. Like he was dirt, or worse, when she looked through him as if he didn’t even exist. It made him want to reach out and pinch her, just to hear her say ouch.

Today he hadn’t meant to hurt or provoke her. Well, not until she’d given him that “you’re scum” look. But listening to Henry’s will had provoked him. Just thinking about it pissed him off all over again. He thought about Henry and Delaney, and that real bad feeling tweaked the back of his neck once more.

Nick reached for the ignition key and headed back toward town. He had a few questions, and Max Harrison was the only person who knew the answers.

“What can I do for you?” the lawyer asked as soon as Nick was shown into a spacious office near the front of the building.

Nick didn’t waste time on idle conversation. “Is Henry’s will legal, and can I contest?”

“As I told you earlier when I read the will, it’s legal. You can waste your money on a contest.” Max gave Nick a wary look before he added, “But you won’t win.”

“Why did he do it? I have my suspicions.”

Max looked at the younger man standing in his office. There was something unpredictable and intense lurking just beneath that cool exterior. Max didn’t like Allegrezza. He didn’t like the way he’d behaved earlier. He didn’t like the disrespect he’d shown Gwen and Delaney—a man should never swear in the presence of ladies. But he’d liked Henry’s will even less. He sat in a leather chair behind his desk, and Nick sat across from him. “What are your suspicions?”

Nick leveled his wintry gaze on Max and said without reservation, “Henry wants me to get Delaney pregnant.”

Max debated whether to tell Nick the truth. He felt no love or loyalty toward his former client. Henry had been a very difficult man and had ignored his professional advice repeatedly. He’d cautioned Henry about drafting such a capricious and potentially injurious will, but Henry Shaw always had to have things his own way, and the money had been too good for Max to let his client find another lawyer. “I believe that was his intent, yes,” he answered truthfully, perhaps because he felt a little guilty for his part in it.

“Why didn’t he just say so in the will?”

“Henry wanted his will drafted that way for two reasons. First, he didn’t think you’d concede to father a child for property or money. Second, I informed him that if you contested a condition stipulating you impregnate a woman, you might possibly win on the grounds of a conflict of morals. Henry didn’t seem to think there was a judge around who would believe you have any morals when it comes to women, but contesting the will would defeat the purpose.” Max paused and watched Nick’s jaws tighten. He was pleased to see a reaction, however slight. Maybe the man wasn’t completely void of human emotion. “There is always a chance you might get a judge who would declare the condition void.”

“Why Delaney? Why not another woman?”

“He was under the impression that you and Delaney had a clandestine past together,” Max said. “And he thought if he forbade you to touch Delaney, you’d feel compelled to defy him, as I take it you have in the past.”

Anger tightened Nick’s throat. There had been no clandestine past between himself and Delaney. “Clandestine” made it sound like Romeo and freakin‘ Juliet. As far as the other, that whole forbidden theory, what Max said might have been true once, but Henry had overplayed his hand. Nick wasn’t a kid anymore, drawn to the things he couldn’t have. He didn’t do things just to defy the old man, and he wasn’t drawn to the porcelain doll who always got his hands slapped for him.

“Thank you,” he said as he stood. “I know you didn’t have to tell me anything.”

“You’re right. I didn’t.”

Nick shook Max’s extended hand. He didn’t think the lawyer liked him much, which was okay with Nick.

“I hope Henry went to all the trouble for nothing,” Max said. “I hope, for Delaney’s sake, he won’t get what he wants.”

Nick didn’t bother with a reply. Delaney’s virtue was safe from him. He walked out the front door of the office and down the sidewalk toward his Jeep. He could hear his cell phone chirping even before he opened the door. It stopped only to start once again. He started the engine and reached for the small phone. It was his mother wanting information about the will and reminding him to come to her house for lunch. He didn’t need reminding. He and Louie ate lunch at their mother’s house several times a week. It calmed her worries about their eating habits and kept her from coming to their houses and rearranging the sock drawers.

But today he didn’t particularly want to see his mother. He knew how she’d react to Henry’s will and really didn’t want to talk to her about it. She’d rant and rage and direct her angry diatribes at anyone with the last name Shaw. He supposed she had many legitimate reasons to hate Henry.

Her husband Louis had been killed driving one of Henry’s logging trucks, leaving her with a small son, Louie, to raise by herself. A few weeks after Louis’s funeral, Henry had gone to the house to offer his comfort and sympathy. When he’d left late that night, he’d left with the vulnerable young widow’s signature on a document releasing him from further responsibility in Louis’s death. He’d placed a check in her hand, and a son in her womb. After Nick had been born, Benita had confronted Henry, but he’d denied the baby could possibly be his. He’d kept denying it for most of Nick’s life.

Even though Nick figured his mother had a right to her anger, when he arrived at her house, he was surprised at the vehemence of today’s tirade. She cursed the will in three languages: Spanish, Basque, and English. Nick understood only part of what she said, but most of her outrage was directed toward Delaney. And he hadn’t even told her about the absurd no-sex stipulation. He hoped he wouldn’t have too.

“That girl!” she fumed, sawing her way through a loaf of bread. “He always put that neska izugarri before his son. His own blood. She is nothing, nothing. Yet she gets everything.”

“She might leave town,” Nick reminded her. He didn’t care whether Delaney stayed or was already on her way back home. He didn’t really want Henry’s businesses or the money. Henry had already given him the only property he would have wanted.

“Ba! Why should she leave? Your uncle Josu will have something to say about this.”

Josu Olechea was his mother’s only brother. He was a third-generation sheep rancher, and owned land near Marsing. Since Benita had no husband, she counted on Josu to be head of the family, no matter that her sons were grown.

“Don’t bother him with this,” Nick said and leaned a shoulder against the refrigerator. As a boy, whenever he’d gotten in trouble or his mother figured he and Louie needed a positive male influence, she’d sent them to spend the summer with Josu and his sheepherders. Both of them had loved it until they’d discovered girls.

The back door opened and his brother stepped into the kitchen. Louie was shorter than Nick. Solid, with the black hair and eyes he’d inherited from both his mother and father. “So,” Louie began, closing the screen door behind him. “What did the old man leave you?”

Nick smiled and straightened. His brother would appreciate the inheritance. “You’re going to love it.”

“He got practically nothing,” his mother interjected, carrying a plate of sliced bread into the dining room.

“He left me his Angel Beach property and the land at Silver Creek.”

Louie’s thick brows rose up his forehead and a glint sparkled in his dark eyes. “Holy shit,” the thirty-four-year-old land developer whispered so his mother wouldn’t hear him.

Nick laughed and the two of them followed Benita into the dining room, then sat at the polished oak table. They watched their mother neatly fold back the lace tablecloth, then leave to get their lunch.

“What are you going to put on the Angel Beach property?” Louie asked, assuming correctly that Nick would want the land developed. Benita might not realize the worth of Nick’s inheritance, but his brother did.

“I don’t know. I have a year to think about it.”

“A year?”

Benita set bowls of guisado de vaca in front her sons, then took her seat. It was hot outside, and Nick really didn’t feel like stew. “I get the property if I do something. Or not do something, actually.”

“Is he trying to get you to change your name again?”

Nick looked up from his bowl. His mother and brother stared back at him. There was no way around it. They were family, and they believed family had the God-given right to stick their noses in his business. He snagged a piece of bread and took a bite. “There was a condition,” he began after he swallowed. “I get the property in one year if I don’t become involved with Delaney.”

Slowly Louie picked up his spoon. “Involved? How?”

Nick cast a sideways glance at his mother, who was still staring at him. She’d never talked to either boy about sex. She’d never even so much as mentioned it. She’d left the talk up to Uncle Josu, but by that time, both Allegrezza boys had known most of it anyway. He returned his gaze to his brother and lifted one brow.

Louie took a bite of stew. “What happens if you do?”

“What do you mean what happens?” Nick scowled at his brother as he reached for his spoon. Even if he were crazy enough to want Delaney, which he wasn’t, she hated him. He’d seen it in her eyes today. “You sound as if there’s a possibility.”

Louie didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. He knew Nick’s history.

“What happens?” his mother asked, who didn’t know anything but felt she had the right to know everything.

“Then Delaney inherits the property.”

“Of course. Isn’t it enough that she got everything that is rightfully yours? Now she will be after you to get her hands on your property, Nick,” his mother predicted, generations of suspicious and secretive Basque blood running through her veins. Her dark eyes narrowed. “You watch out for her. She’s as greedy as her mother.”

Nick seriously doubted he would have to watch out for Delaney. Last night when he’d driven her to her mother’s house, she’d sat in his Jeep doing a really good impersonation of a statue, the moonlight casting her profile in gray shadows and letting him know she was royally pissed off. And after today, he was pretty sure she’d avoid him like a leper.

“Promise me, Nick,” his mother continued. “She always got you into trouble. You watch out.”

“I’ll watch out.”

Louie granted.

Nick frowned at his brother and purposely changed the subject. “How’s Sophie?”

“She’s coming home tomorrow,” Louie answered.

“That’s wonderful news.” Benita smiled and set a slice of bread next to her bowl.

“I’d hoped to have a little more time alone with Lisa before I tell Sophie about the wedding,” Louie said. “I don’t know how she’ll take the news.”

“She’ll adjust to her new stepmother eventually. Everything will turn out fine,” Benita predicted. She liked Lisa okay, but she wasn’t Basque and she wasn’t Catholic, which meant that Louie couldn’t marry in the church. Never mind that Louie was divorced and couldn’t marry in the church anyway. Benita wasn’t worried about Louie. Louie would be okay. But Nick. She worried about Nick. She always had. And now that girl was back and she would worry even more.

Benita hated anyone with the last name Shaw. Mostly she hated Henry for the way he’d treated her and the way he’d treated her son, but she hated that girl and her mother too. For years she’d watched Delaney parade around in fancy clothes while Benita had to patch Louie’s hand-me-downs for Nick. Delaney got new bicycles and expensive toys while Nick went without or had to settle for secondhand. And while she’d watched Delaney get more than one little girl needed, she’d also watched her son, his proud shoulders straight, chin in the air. A stoic little man. And each time she watched him pretend it didn’t matter, her heart broke a little more. Each time she watched him watch that girl, she grew a little more bitter.

Benita was proud of both her sons and she loved them equally. But Nick was different from Louie. Nick was so very sensitive.

She looked across the table at her younger son. Nick would always break her heart.