Cara Summers – Twin Temptation: Twin Temptation (страница 1)
TWIN TEMPTATION
“Who are you and what are you doing in my bed?”
The note of command in Jase’s voice snapped Maddie out of the trance she’d fallen into ever since he’d pulled back and she’d looked into those mesmerising blue-green eyes. A moment ago, she’d been sure he was going to kiss her again. And she’d wanted him to. More than that, she’d willed him to. But he hadn’t. And now he seemed to be focused on getting answers. OK, maybe he had a right. But so did she.
She squirmed backwards, intending to get out of bed. But she was naked. Sweeping her hand beneath the covers, she searched for her tank top. Without success.
“I’m still waiting for an answer.”
TWIN SEDUCTION
She wanted to taste him. She had to taste him.
As if he’d read her mind, he turned his head until his lips were just brushing hers. For a moment, she hesitated and she sensed that he was hesitating too. She was tempted to open her eyes, to try to see what he was thinking. But she knew, didn’t she? And if she opened her eyes, he might disappear.
Twin Temptation
By
Cara Summers
Twin Seduction
By
Cara Summers
CARA SUMMERS has written more than thirty books. She has won several awards, including an Award of Excellence, two Golden Quills and two Golden Leaf Awards. Last year she was also honoured with a Lifetime Achievement Award for Series Storyteller of the Year from
Available in July 2010 from Mills & Boon® Blaze®
BLAZE 2-IN-1
by Cara Summers &
Twin Temptation
By
To my daughter-in-law Mary Plante Hanlon – who just happens to be a twin!
You’re also an amazing mother and a good friend. I love you!
Prologue
IT WAS a mansion right out of the books she’d read as a child—
Those were Maddie’s first fanciful thoughts when she stepped out of the limousine and got a good look at the massive stone structure. Gray and solitary, Ware House soared up three stories and boasted three turrets and a roof edged in carved stone.
But this wasn’t some English gentleman’s mysterious country home. It was the Long Island residence of the Ware family. And she was about to meet them for the first time.
A tall man who reminded her a bit of Michael Caine answered the door. He had to be a butler. His posture was ramrod-straight and his face totally expressionless. But Maddie thought she saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes before he stepped aside and said, “Come in, Ms. Farrell. Let me take your bag.” Just as if she were a regular visitor.
Still hesitating on the threshold, Maddie firmly reined in her imagination. It had rocketed into overdrive from the moment she’d received the phone call from that attorney, Edward Fitzwalter III. Gripping the strap of her purse more tightly, she stepped into the dark-paneled foyer. Since she wasn’t at all sure of her welcome, she’d asked the limo driver to wait for her. She had an escape plan in place.
“This way.” The man turned and started down a wide hallway. “The family has already gathered in the library.”
The knot of anxiety in Maddie’s stomach tightened. She was about to meet a family she hadn’t known existed until two days ago. Up until that time, she’d believed that she was the only daughter of Mike Farrell, a successful cattleman whose ranch was located about an hour north of Santa Fe. Mike had been an only child, the last of a line of ranchers, and Maddie was supposed to carry on his legacy. All her life she’d believed her mother had died when she was a baby. That was the story her father had told her…and since he’d passed away a year ago, there was no way she could ask him why he’d lied.
And according to the gruff-voiced attorney who’d called her two days ago, her father had indeed lied to her. And it had been a whopper. All these years, she’d had a mother she’d never met—a mother who’d been raised in this house and who just happened to be renowned Madison Avenue jewelry designer Eva Ware.
Oh, Maddie was very well-acquainted with the professional persona of Eva Ware. She’d studied the woman’s designs ever since she was in junior high and had first dreamed of creating her own line of Southwestern-style jewelry. Her father had known of her admiration for Eva Ware Designs, but he’d never once mentioned that the woman she’d so admired was her mother.
She was still struggling with the idea when the lawyer had told her that five days ago Eva Ware had been struck down by a hit-and-run driver.
The news, shocking and unexpected, had set her head spinning. Sitting down hard on a nearby chair, she’d tried to gather her scattered thoughts as the voice on the other end of the phone droned on. Maddie had caught bits and pieces—her mother’s request…fly to New York…reading of the will…claim her inheritance.
For a few moments, the attorney’s voice had become nothing more than a buzz in her ear. She had a sister? A
No. That was straight out of the plot a Disney movie—two of them, in fact.
No. She couldn’t accept that. Her father couldn’t have lied to her all these years. Gripping the phone as if it were a lifeline, Maddie had stood up and interrupted the man on the other end of the line. “You’re lying. If this is some kind of hoax, or some kind of scam you’re running, it won’t work.”
In a calm voice, as if he’d fully expected that reaction, he’d told her to call information and get the number of the Fitzwalter and Carnegie law firm in New York City and then to call it and ask for Edward Fitzwalter the Third. Pacing back and forth in the living room of the ranch house, she’d debated following his instructions for a full fifteen minutes.
She couldn’t, she wouldn’t believe that her father had lied to her. The man who’d called her had to be some kind of a con artist. Pausing at the window that filled one wall of the living room, she’d stared out at the land that had been in the Farrell family for five generations.
And then she’d thought of Daniel Pearson, the local real estate agent who’d been pressuring her to put the ranch on the market for the past six months. It was pretty common knowledge that ever since her father had died, she’d been struggling to run the ranch and still grow her jewelry design business. Could Mr. Fitzwalter’s call be connected to that? But how? If she had in truth inherited something from her mother, it would only help her hold on to the ranch and carry on her father’s legacy.
In the end, Maddie had succumbed to curiosity and a gut feeling that the man who’d called her was indeed Edward Fitzwalter the Third. And he had been. More than that, he’d been patient and kind enough to repeat all the information he’d given her before. He’d even told her that he’d booked an airline ticket for her on the following day. All she had to do was go to the airport and pick it up. A limousine would be waiting for her at JFK airport and it would take her to the Ware family’s estate on Long Island for the official reading of the will.
Maddie dragged her thoughts back to the present when the butler man stopped in front of a double set of paneled doors. Nerves jittered in her stomach as he turned the handles and pushed them open.
Still on the threshold, Maddie let her gaze sweep the room. It was cavernous. Three of the four walls were packed with books. The scent of leather-bound volumes mixed with the aromas of lemon wax and lilies from the vases scattered throughout the room. Four narrow stained-glass windows took up the wall directly across from her and let in a gloomy light.