The By Request Collection

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, teasing the tip of one breast with his tongue, then nipping just hard enough to make her gasp. After all this time he still knew what to do to drive her crazy. He did the same to the other side, then he unfastened her bra with an adept flick of his fingers, pulled it off her and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. Then he kissed her again, the hair on his chest tickling her nipples in the most tantalizing way.

She yanked his shorts off over his hips and used her feet to push them down his legs, desperate to feel him inside her. There was a fire building at her core, an ember burning hot on the verge of igniting.

He rose up on his knees, stripping her out of her pants and underwear in one swift motion, and grabbed a condom out of the drawer of the bedside table. Tearing the packet open with his teeth, he wasted no time rolling the condom on. Then he was back on top of her, his weight sinking her into the covers. He teased her first, sliding his erection against her. She was so slick and sensitive she probably could have climaxed just like that. But then he stopped, pulling back slightly. If he stopped now she was afraid that she actually might die from the ache building inside her.

She grabbed his muscular backside, and though she had never been one to beg she said, “Please, don’t stop.”

He grinned down at her, eyes glazed, his lids heavy. “Not a chance in hell.”

His eyes locked on hers as he slowly entered her, giving her just an inch or two before pulling back again. Slow and gentle and sweet. But she didn’t want slow. She needed him inside her now.

Digging into his buttocks with her nails, she thrust her hips upward against him. She cried out as he sank as deep as he could go. Roman moaned and buried his head in the crook of her neck as he cursed and told her with gritted teeth, “Slow down.”

But she couldn’t. She didn’t want to slow down. She arched up to meet each of his thrusts, slipping easily into the rhythm they had mastered so long ago, their bodies so perfectly in sync it was almost as if they were one person.

Across the room, in the mirror above his chest of drawers, she could see their reflection. She lay beneath him, her legs hooked tightly around his hips, his muscular backside flexing with every thrust. It was the hottest, most arousing thing she had ever seen, and her muscles instantly began to coil and tighten. He must have felt it, too. He groaned and tunneled his fingers through her hair, kissed her hard as she reached a crest of pleasure that left her weak and breathless.

Moaning as her muscles gripped and pulsed around him, Roman was only seconds behind her. He picked up speed and pressed his forehead to hers, eyes squeezing shut as every muscle in his body tensed. “Gracie,” he moaned as he climaxed, holding her so close and so tight she could almost feel the pleasure coursing through him.

Shuddering and gasping for air, they lay like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, their bodies still intimately joined. And though she tried to fight it, feelings of affection threatened to overwhelm her.

This was just good sex, she told herself. No, not good sex. Fantastic sex. Mind-blowing, earth-shattering, out-of-this-universe sex.

But still just sex.

Then he lifted his head and looked deep in her eyes, teased the tip of her nose with his own and smiled, and her insides went all gooey again. But not gooey enough to say or do something she would later regret.

She was a woman who kept her heart carefully guarded and locked up tight. He used to have the key, but it would do him no good. It had taken so long for her broken heart to repair itself that the lock had rusted shut. And she refused to let anyone, especially him, break it again.

Besides, even if she wanted it to be more, even if she could someday forgive and trust him again, her family never would. Sure, he was charming and funny and great in bed, but he had given her no reason to trust him. And far too many reasons not to.

Seven

Grace stood with her sisters amidst the crowd at the construction site of the new children’s hospital, shivering under her cashmere coat. The reception for donors was set to begin in just a few minutes and she had serious mixed feelings about being there. After all, the Newport brothers were naming the hospital after Cynthia Newport. The woman with whom her father had had an affair and an illegitimate child. But Carson was her half-brother, and Eve was engaged to his brother Graham, so how could she not be there for them? The project was being funded almost entirely by the Newports.

She turned to scan the crowd to see many familiar faces. Nash Chamberlain and his wife, Gina. And of course Georgia and Carson. Even Dr. Lucinda Walsh and Josh Calhoun were in town. Brilliant cancer specialist that Lucinda was, Gracie and her sisters had hoped that she would remain their father’s caretaker for the duration of his illness, but her love for Josh had taken her from Chicago to his dairy farm in Iowa, where, Gracie had heard, she was taking over the oncology department at a local hospital. Josh, with his long hair, rugged good looks and cowboy hat, was a quintessential cowboy.

“Of course they had to pick the coldest day of the year for this,” Nora said, pulling her collar up against the bitter cold wind that poured in through openings that would soon be windows. “The windchill has to be ten below zero.”

Eve pulled out her phone and checked. “Close, fifteen degrees.”

“I feel warmer already,” she joked.

“Have you talked to Mom?” Nora asked Eve.

Eve frowned and shook her head. Despite their parents’ divorce, and their father’s very public reputation for womanizing, the news that he had fathered a child with Cynthia Newport had hit their mother, Celeste, pretty hard. It had also been difficult for her to accept that Eve was in love with Graham, and that her grandchild would have the Newport name.

“She’ll come around,” Nora said, wrapping her arm around Eve’s waist and giving her a squeeze.

“I know,” Eve said, clearly holding back tears. “It still hurts, though.”

Of the three sisters Eve was by far the toughest of the bunch, but Gracie had the feeling her hormones were out of whack from her pregnancy and making her weepy.

“I’m sorry,” Nora said. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It will all work out,” Eve said, but not with her usual confidence. “It will just take time.”

There was a moment of silence, then Nora asked Gracie, “So how did the fund-raiser go Friday? I’m sorry I couldn’t be there but the wedding plans have me chasing my own tail.”

“It was great,” she told her sister, but it was the memory of Saturday that was making her feel all warm and toasty under her coat.

Nora frowned. “That’s it? Just great? No juicy gossip to share?”

“Honestly the whole night is kind of a blur.” She glanced over at Eve, who was looking straight ahead with a wry smile on her face. Had she said something to Nora about Gracie being there with Roman? And the fact that she’d gotten drunk.

If she had, or if someone else had mentioned it, Nora didn’t let on.

“Did you meet your fund-raising goal?” Nora asked her, and Gracie wished she would just let it go.

“I haven’t talked to Dax yet, so I’m not sure.”

Nora looked at her funny. “I thought you would be all over it Saturday.”

She’d been all over something, but it wasn’t fund-raising.

“It’s a busy time for me at work,” she said, hoping Nora would drop the subject. She didn’t want to think about the fund-raiser or work or anything else. She didn’t even want to be here today. Where she wanted to be was back in bed with Roman. And at the same time, the reality of how quickly and effortlessly they had reconnected scared the hell out of her. This was not a good idea, this thing they had started. It had never been her intention to sleep with him. Not that it wasn’t some of the best sex she’d ever had in her life. But they had crossed a line, and she was afraid that she would never be able to cross back over it to where she was before. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to go back, and that was probably the scariest thing of all.

She wanted to trust him, and believe that he had nothing to do with the recent smear campaign targeting her father, but that didn’t erase what had happened seven years ago. He had taken responsibility for his mistake, and his time in the service went a long way to prove his character. She wished she could just let it go, but it still lingered there somewhere in the back of her mind. She wasn’t sure if that residual little sliver of doubt would ever completely go away. And that lack of trust would eventually become their undoing.

Or maybe she would get over it and they would live happily ever after. If that was even what he wanted. Or what she wanted. Was she obsessing over something that he might not even want? Was she assuming things that had no basis in reality?

It was all so confusing.

“Well, if it isn’t the Winchester girls,” someone said from behind them and they turned to see Brooks Newport, smug as usual, walking toward them.

“Oh great,” she heard Eve mutter under her breath, but not quietly enough.

Brooks, with acid in his voice, said, “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Gracie was typically nonconfrontational, and tried to stay out of family spats, but she was feeling particularly snarky today. “Grow up, Brooks.”

Her sisters both turned to her, looking as if they couldn’t believe that had come out of her mouth. Brooks looked a little taken aback himself, but he recovered quickly.

“So the spoiled little heiress has a voice.”

“She does,” Gracie said, and though she had never been comfortable using profanity, she calmly, but forcefully, said, “and she’s sick of your bullshit intimidations. This is a special day for your family and your inability to behave like an adult does a great disservice to your brothers and disrespects your mother’s memory.”

He obviously didn’t like being called out as the immature, narcissistic ass that he was. “Your father is the one who disrespected my mother,” he said smugly, with a top-that look.

So she did. “And that makes you no better than he is.”

Brooks blinked, and she could see that the comment stung. Well, good. She hoped it would make him stop and think about his actions.

She could see the wheels in his head spinning, but before the situation could escalate further, Carson appeared at his brother’s side.

“We’re getting ready to start,” he told Brooks.

Brooks looked at Gracie and her sisters, as if he wanted to say something more, but then turned and stalked away.

“Everything okay here?” Carson asked his half sisters.

“Fine,” Gracie said. “Brooks was just being Brooks.”

Carson shook his head sadly. “I wish I knew why he’s so bitter. I understand his anger toward Sutton, but there’s no reason to drag the three of you into it. I’m sorry if he upset you.”

“I think I speak for me and my sisters when I say we’re over it,” Gracie told him.

“You’re my family,” Carson said. “I don’t want Brooks’s behavior to have a negative impact on that.”

“Brooks’s behavior has no bearing on our connection to you,” Nora told him. “Family is family.”

Gracie figured that they had proved that by accepting Carson as their sibling, despite the extramarital affair that was responsible for his existence. Sutton’s actions were in no way Carson’s fault, and it wasn’t fair to blame him for their father’s poor judgment.

“I have to go,” Carson said. “Maybe we can talk more afterward.”

When he was gone, Eve looked at Gracie and asked, “Wow, what’s gotten into you today?”

Riding on the edge of a guilty conscience, Gracie asked, “Was it wrong of me to stand up to Brooks?”

Nora laughed. “Heck no. He expected you to defend Sutton, and when you didn’t he had no idea what to say.”

“You blindsided him,” Eve said. “And it was thoroughly amusing.”

Gracie’s phone buzzed with a text. She pulled it out of her pocket and saw that she had a message from Roman. She was almost afraid to open it on the chance that he would say their encounter had been a mistake, and there was just too much bad blood between them to make even a sexual relationship work. Because she saw no harm in occasionally having a warm body to cozy up to on cold nights. She had needs and Roman was pretty damned good at fulfilling them.

Occasionally.

Her heart pounded as she punched in the code on her phone and the text popped up on the screen.

Dinner at my place? Then a little dessert?

She couldn’t suppress the smile curling her lips. She’d been worried for no reason. He obviously was still interested. As excited as she was, and as much as she wanted to see him, she had the distinct feeling that her life was about to get very complicated.

* * *

With the guarantee that Sutton was about to reveal information about the identity of their real father, Roman finally talked both Graham and Brooks into a meeting with the dying tycoon. Which was how, the following Friday, Roman found himself back at the Winchester estate. Once again against his will and better judgment. He just hoped that Sutton would actually deliver this time. According to Grace he hadn’t been out of bed in days and she was worried that the cancer, or the treatments, or a combination of both, had begun to affect him mentally. She’d been visiting him daily, and he’d been alternating between being himself, sinking into a deep depression and experiencing fits of irrational anger at the drop of a hat. She said it was a little like Jekyll and Hyde.

Roman didn’t even know why he had to be there. When he’d asked Sutton, all he’d gotten back was a very cryptic To keep the peace. But if tempers flared and Graham took a shot at his brother, it wasn’t Roman’s responsibility to stop him. As far as he was concerned Brooks could use a little sense knocked into him. And though Brooks was nothing more than a thug in an expensive suit, he was still a client—and a very lucrative one at that—and Roman was under contract to find their birth father. As far as he’d found, it was as though their mother, Cynthia, in the time before she moved to Chicago, hadn’t existed.

Gracie had wanted to join them but her father had forbidden it, and of course she’d backed down instantly. It had always fascinated Roman, the control her father had over her. Gracie on her own, in any other element, was one of the toughest, brightest, most capable women Roman had ever met. She’d certainly never taken any crap from Roman. But bring Daddy into the picture and her backbone mysteriously dissolved.

She’d certainly been aggressive Saturday morning. And Saturday afternoon, and most of Saturday night. He drove her home Sunday morning so she could get ready to attend the hospital reception, then she came back Monday evening and he’d made her dinner. He had talked to her every day since then, but they hadn’t seen each other since she left Monday night.

Clearly the fire that burned between them seven years ago had never gone out. But he could feel her holding back. And he understood. He couldn’t say for sure that he was still in love with her. But he couldn’t say that he wasn’t in love with her, either. Not that it mattered. She’d made it clear that it was just sex to her. That she could never trust him with her heart again. But they could still be friends.

Friends with benefits. He could live with that.

When he arrived at the Winchester estate Brooks and Graham were already there, and he was surprised to find Carson, their youngest brother, and Sutton’s recently confirmed son, standing by his bedside. Sutton held the meeting in his personal suite from his bed. Though Roman had thought he couldn’t look much worse than the last time he saw the man, he’d been wrong.

Brooks and Graham stood far from each other, at opposite ends of the room.

“It’s about damned time,” Brooks snapped at Roman as Sutton’s nurse showed him into the room, then reclaimed her seat just outside the door. According to Roman’s Rolex he was a minute early.

“Forgive my brother,” Graham apologized, looking both irritated and resigned. “I’ve yet to find anything to kill the bug that crawled up his ass.”

The comment earned him a glare from Brooks. Hell, maybe they would come to blows.

Roman took a spot at the foot of the bed between the two men. Just in case.

“Now that we’re all here, let’s get started,” Sutton said, his voice so weak Roman had to strain to hear him. He was sitting propped up by a mountain of pillows, which Roman suspected was the only thing holding him upright. It reminded him of Gracie in the limo on the way home the other night, and he instantly wanted to smile.

Graham moved to his future father-in-law’s side. “Roman tells me that you have information about our father.”

“I do.”

“I’m a little confused as to why I’m here,” Carson said. “I know who my father is. I have no relation to the man you’re looking for.”

“This concerns your mother, too,” Sutton told him.

“So out with it,” Brooks snapped, completely insensitive to his rival’s fragile condition.

“You all know that I’m a man of my word. Once I’ve made a promise I will not break it,” Sutton said.

“Which is why you never promise anyone anything,” Roman told him and Sutton shot him a vague, wry smile.

“But I did once, a long time ago. A promise that until recently I intended to take to my grave.” He looked from Brooks to his brother. “One I made to your mother.”

“Your word means nothing to me, old man,” Brooks ground out. “Just tell us what you know.”

“First you have to give me your word that what I am about to tell you will never leave this room.” He looked to Roman. “All four of you.”

“This is business,” Roman said. “I would never divulge to anyone information I obtained in a private meeting with my clients.”

Sutton looked to Graham. He nodded and said, “Of course.” Then Graham gave his brother a look that seemed to say, Do it or else.

Brooks grudgingly nodded. “You have my word, as well.”

“First I want you to know that your mother was an amazing woman. I had never met anyone like her. And I haven’t since.”

“And when was that?” Brooks asked.

“She was pregnant with the two of you,” Sutton said. “Pregnant and alone working as a waitress in a café I went to occasionally. She’d only been working there a week, and she spilled a drink in my lap. She apologized profusely, then broke down in tears, so afraid that she would lose her job...” He smiled vaguely and faded off, as if lost in thought. To anyone who didn’t know what a coldhearted and brutal businessman he was, they might think he was just an average sentimental old man.

“And?” Brooks snapped after several seconds, which earned him another look from Graham. Roman couldn’t deny feeling a little irritated, too. It was obvious that Sutton was in poor shape. Still Brooks couldn’t cut him a break, which said a lot about his integrity. As in he had none. The man lay dying in front of him, confessing a secret he’d once intended to die with, and Brooks couldn’t see past his thirst for revenge. His need to conquer.

But Sutton didn’t even seem to notice. Or didn’t care.

“Let the man speak,” Graham said with a warning tone.

Carson laid a hand on his father’s shoulder and in a patient voice said, “Go on, Sutton.”

Sutton blinked rapidly and snapped back to the present. “I could see the desperation in her eyes, and that she was carrying a child, or as I later discovered, two children. I left her a generous tip, and couldn’t stop thinking about her. When I went back a week later she was working again, and I found that I was happy to see her. But she looked so tired and stressed, as if she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“She thanked me for my generosity the week before. She wouldn’t admit it then—she was too proud—but she had been about to lose the room she was renting and that tip was enough to pay her rent for another month. That was before her coworker Gerty took her in. I hung around for a while, until her shift ended, and I invited her to have dinner with me.

“She hesitated of course, worried I had ulterior motives, but I think hunger won out over her pride. And she ate like she hadn’t seen real food in months. It gave me so much satisfaction to help her.”

“Why do I find that hard to believe?” Brooks said, but Sutton went on as if he hadn’t even heard him.

“I inquired about her pregnancy, and she confessed to me that she hadn’t told the father of her unborn twins about the pregnancy before moving to Chicago from Texas to start over. The long hours on her feet were difficult, but it was the only job she could find. But she said that now, since her pregnancy had begun to show, her boss was making noise like she would no longer be an asset. She knew it was only a matter of time before she was fired.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” Carson asked.

Sutton shook his head. “Not back then. But I admired her courage and fortitude, so I offered her a job.” His eyes belied the affection he felt, and maybe still felt, for Cynthia Newport.

“As your mistress?” Brooks asked.

“As my secretary. She had no experience. She couldn’t even type, but I knew that she would learn and she did. And what started out as a friendship became something more. I helped her as much as I could after you and your brother were born. But we had to keep our relationship a secret.”

“Which is how Carson came to be,” Graham said, looking to his younger brother.

Brooks glared at Sutton. “That’s what womanizers do.”

Sutton faced him, looking almost apologetic. “It was more than an affair. We were deeply in love. Your mother was my soul mate. I would have done anything for her. I wanted to divorce Celeste and marry her, but back then I was still under my father-in-law’s thumb. He threatened to ruin me financially, and keep my daughter and my unborn child from me. Cynthia couldn’t bear to watch that happen. We knew that as long as we were together Celeste’s family would never let us be happy. So we were forced to go our separate ways.

“When she discovered she was pregnant with Carson she said nothing, would never confirm that he was mine, so I tried to forget her. I distracted myself with work, and women who meant nothing to me, thinking it would ease the need to be with her. But it never did. I always told myself, maybe someday... Then she died and I lost my chance.”

“You claim to have loved her, but you didn’t even come to her funeral,” Brooks said.

“I couldn’t,” Sutton said. “It would have caused a scene, and I couldn’t do that to her.”

Carson shot his brother a look and told Sutton, “I understand.”

“The day your mother and I parted ways, she made me promise something, something I had to swear I would take to my grave.”

“Yet here we are,” Brooks said smugly. “And you claim you’re a man of your word?”

“Enough!” Carson snapped at his older brother, and Brooks actually backed down.

Sutton looked so sad when he said, “I don’t have much time left, Brooks, and I don’t want her secret to die with me. Our personal feelings aside, as her sons, you should know who your mother really was, and what she sacrificed for the two of you. It’s all I can do to honor the memory of the woman I never stopped loving.”

“What do you mean who she really was?” Graham asked, his brow knit.

“Your mom wasn’t who you thought she was. Her real name was Amy Jo Turner.”

Eight

The brothers all looked taken aback. “She moved here from Cool Springs, a small town in Texas.”

“Son of a bitch,” Roman muttered, shaking his head. With the truth out it all made sense. He’d always suspected that Cynthia Newport was an alias, but he could never be sure and his investigation had proven inconclusive. “That explains why I couldn’t find anything on her before she moved here.”