Tempting The Texan

How will he resist the woman who once got away?

In the fight for his family’s legacy, will this former flame consume him?

Rancher Kellan Blackwood is poised to fight the gold-digging stepmother who inherited his father’s empire. He doesn’t expect Irina Romanov, his father’s former maid—and Kellan’s long-ago lover—to block his way. Though Irina may hold secrets about his father’s motives, Kellan must keep his hands off. For the twice-tempted, secret lovers who once set Texas ablaze, that’s easier said than done.

USA TODAY Bestselling Author Maureen Child

MAUREEN CHILD writes for the Mills & Boon Desire line and can’t imagine a better job. A seven-time finalist for the prestigious Romance Writers of America RITA® Award, Maureen is the author of more than one hundred romance novels. Her books regularly appear on bestseller lists and have won several awards, including a Prism Award, a National Readers’ Choice Award, a Colorado Romance Writers Award of Excellence and a Golden Quill Award. She is a native Californian but has recently moved to the mountains of Utah.

Also by Maureen Child

The Tycoon’s Secret Child

A Texas-Sized Secret

Little Secrets: His Unexpected Heir

Rich Rancher’s Redemption

Billionaire’s Bargain

Tempt Me in Vegas

Bombshell for the Boss

Red Hot Rancher

Texas Cattleman’s Club: Inheritance miniseries

Tempting the Texan

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Tempting the Texan

Maureen Child

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09286-9

TEMPTING THE TEXAN

© 2019 Harlequin Books S.A.

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Note to Readers

This ebook contains the following accessibility features which, if supported by your device, can be accessed via your ereader/accessibility settings:

 Change of font size and line height

 Change of background and font colours

 Change of font

 Change justification

 Text to speech

To Desire readers.

Thanks to you, I can tell all the stories I love to read.

I appreciate you all so much.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

About the Publisher

Prologue

Kellan Blackwood was pissed.

His father, Buckley Blackwood, was dead and gone and yet the old man was still pulling strings. Only Buck could manage that from the grave.

Kel glanced at his brother and sister and silently admitted they didn’t look any happier than he felt. Vaughn’s intense green eyes were narrowed thoughtfully and he was half-sprawled in his chair. Sophie, their baby sister, wore black, and her long auburn hair was pulled back from her pretty face. Her brown eyes were teary, but she still looked as if she were torn between sorrow and anger.

Kel couldn’t blame her. This wasn’t easy on any of them, but there was no way to avoid what was coming. But at least they had each other to lean on. All three of them had had complicated “relationships” with their father. Buck had never been concerned with his kids or what they were doing. So the three of them, as children, had formed a tight bond that held strong today.

Kace LeBlanc, Buck’s lawyer, walked into the office and stopped. “Kel,” he said and nodded. “Vaughn. Sophie. Thanks for coming.”

“Not like we had much choice, Kace.” Vaughn sat up straight and tugged at the edges of his jacket.

“Right.” Kace looked uncomfortable and Kel could understand it. As Buck’s lawyer, Kace knew as well as they did that Buck hadn’t given a good damn about his children—it was his businesses that had demanded his attention.

“Where’s Miranda?” Kace glanced around the room as if expecting her to stand up from behind a chair.

“She hasn’t managed to come downstairs yet,” Kel explained, and his tone said exactly what he thought of the woman who had married and divorced his father.

Miranda Dupree was thirty-six years old. Same age as Kellan. A hell of a thing for your father to marry a woman the same age as his oldest child. But Buck had been a wealthy, lonely old man and she’d swooped in on his checkbook so fast, she’d been nothing but a redheaded blur. Sophie had given Miranda the nickname Step-witch, and Kel had to say it suited the grasping, greedy—

“Hello, everyone.”

Speak of the devil, Kel thought. He stood because his mother had drilled manners into him from the time he was a child. Then he surreptitiously slapped Vaughn’s shoulder to get him on his feet, as well. The one thing Kel couldn’t manage was making his voice sound welcoming. “Miranda. Surprised to see you back in Royal.”

The woman was beautiful, he’d give her that. Bright red hair, brilliant blue eyes and a figure that would bring some men—including his father—to their knees. But when Kel looked at her all he saw was the woman who’d driven another wedge between Buck and his family.

“Buck sent me a letter asking me to be here—along with a few other things.” Miranda gave him a slow smile that he was willing to bet she practiced in front of a mirror. “From what I hear, you’re not here all that often, either, Kellan. You live in Nashville now, don’t you?”

He gritted his teeth to keep what he wanted to say to the woman locked inside. There were plenty of reasons for his move to Nashville several years ago. And not one of them was any of Miranda’s business.

“Why are you even here?” Vaughn demanded. “Not like Buck’s alive enough for you to seduce again.”

“Like I said, Buck wanted me here,” she said simply and took a seat, smoothing her tight black skirt over her thighs. Glancing over to Sophie and ignoring the men, she said, “I’m sorry about your father, Sophie.”

“I am, too,” she said and turned to look at Kace, in effect dismissing Miranda entirely.

“Can everyone just sit down?” Kace asked, his voice cool but clear.

“Yes,” Sophie said, tugging on Vaughn’s hand to get him back in his chair. “Come on, you guys, sit down and let’s get this over with.”

“Right,” Kel agreed. No point in dragging this out. He wanted to settle his business and get out of Royal fast enough that he wouldn’t run into—he cut that thought off because he couldn’t afford to think about her. Not now. Not ever.

He scrubbed one hand across his whiskered jaw and told himself that raking up the past wouldn’t serve anyone.

“Buck wanted all of you present to hear his will,” Kace said from behind Buckley’s desk. Instantly, Kel focused on the present.

“But it won’t take long.” Kace looked at each of them in turn, then zeroed in on Kellan. “I can give you all the legalese or just say it straight. Which do you want?”

Kel gave his siblings a quick look and nodded. They were clearly of a mind with him. He didn’t give a damn what Miranda wanted. So he said, “Just say it, Kace.”

Sympathy shone briefly in Kace’s eyes and Kel knew he wasn’t going to like whatever was coming before the man even said, “Basically, Buck left everything to Miranda.”

“What?” Kellan was up and out of his chair in a blink. Vaughn was just a second or two behind him, and Sophie… Well, she sat there looking stunned as if she’d hit her head.

“You can’t be serious.” Kel glared at Kace.

“Yeah, I am.” Kace didn’t look happy about this. “He knew what he wanted and he laid it all out pretty clearly. And before you ask, your dad was of sound mind, Kellan,” Kace said.

“You call this ‘sound mind’?”

“Legally, yeah,” Kace said. “I know this is hard—”

It was unthinkable. Buckley Blackwood hadn’t been much of a father, but damned if Kellan could understand the old man leaving the family ranch to his ex-wife instead of his children. Slowly, he swiveled his head to stare at her. She didn’t look surprised at all. Now, why was that? Had Kace told her what to expect? Had Buck?

“What the hell, Miranda?”

She shrugged and gave him that smile again. “I don’t know why he did it, Kellan. All I know is he had a letter delivered to me after his death, telling me to be here for the will reading.” She shrugged. “Your father was a generous man.”

Not how Kellan remembered him.

“You know what? I didn’t want his money or his property anyway,” Vaughn said. “I don’t need anything from him at this point. But there is no way Dad would do this,” Vaughn argued, glaring at their ex-stepmother.

“Yeah, well, he did,” Kace said simply.

“He must have hated us,” Sophie whispered.

“No,” Kellan assured her. “He didn’t.” Hell, Buck hadn’t noticed any of them enough to instill any real emotion—love or hate. Besides, no one could hate Sophie. “I don’t know what the hell is going on,” he said, giving Kace a hard glare before turning to Miranda. “But I will find out. For now, all I’ll say is this isn’t over.”

One

Kel was still riding a tidal wave of righteous anger when he pulled up in front of the ranch house. Blackwood Hollow was a six-hundred-acre working ranch but the main building looked like a five-star luxury hotel. Sprawling twin wings spread out across the land and climbed to two stories. Lights shone in every window, making the whole place sparkle in the darkness. And with the white Christmas lights strung along the outline of the ranch house, it looked magical.

It was a mammoth place. His little sister, Sophie, sometimes stayed there, but they’d all gotten into the habit of avoiding Blackwood Hollow because they hadn’t wanted to see Buck. A part of him wondered if that would change now that Buck was gone.

For Kellan, the memories in Royal were too hard, too painful to welcome him back for anything longer than a short visit to see his siblings even if that meant an extra trip into Dallas to see Vaughn.

Frowning, Kel looked past the main house to the guest quarters. Just as luxurious, the stone-and-glass building held four guest suites, a massive great room and a four-car garage.

“And,” he murmured, “not a chance Miranda’s staying there.”

His father’s ex wouldn’t settle for anything less than the big house. Especially now, since she apparently owned it.

Okay, there was the rage again, in a fresh wave that nearly stole his breath. Shaking his head, he got out of his black Range Rover and headed for the main house. A couple of the ranch hands nodded or lifted a hand in greeting, but didn’t try to stop him to chat. Good call.

He was here only because he knew the Step-witch wasn’t. His sister, Sophie, had called him to say that Miranda was in town, shopping. Naturally. When you inherit several billion dollars, you want to spend some of it.

Muttering under his breath, Kellan entered the house, crossed the foyer and walked into the great room. He gave a quick look around, to assure himself she wasn’t there. He hardly noticed the blazing fire in the hearth or the dark brown leather sofas and chairs clustered in conversational groups.

Deliberately, he kept his gaze off the damn Christmas tree in front of the bank of windows overlooking the front yard. It glittered and shone with multicolored lights and ribbons of silver and gold. The scent of pine hung in the air and stirred more memories, whether he wanted them or not. As a kid, he’d loved this house during the Christmas season because his mother had always gone all out on decorating.

The holidays were always opulent at Blackwood Hollow. It was the one tradition even Buck had kept after Kel’s mother and he had divorced. Donna-Leigh had died a few years ago, but here at Blackwood Hollow Kel could still feel her influence. Tiny lights were strung around every window and there were decorated trees in almost every room of the house. The whole place smelled like evergreen, and as the memories rushed into his mind, Kel fought to keep them out.

He reminded himself that almost before the ink on their divorce decree had dried, Buck had married Miranda DuPree and brought her into the house that had been Donna-Leigh’s. So the old man keeping Kel’s mother’s decorating traditions alive didn’t mean squat.

Quickly, he took the stairs to the second story, ignoring the decorated tree on the landing and the twinkling white lights strung along the hallway. He checked the first of the guest rooms. Empty. No sign of anyone staying there. He moved on down the hall, his footsteps muffled on the dark red runner laid out in the center of the gleaming oak floor. Next room. Still nothing. He was down to two now. He didn’t know how long Miranda would be in town, though according to Sophie, the woman was being trailed all through Royal by the camera crew that worked on the ridiculous TV show she was on.

Secret Lives of NYC Ex-Wives.

He snorted. So she’d found a way to make even more money out of her divorce from a rich man. And now her costars and the film crew were in Royal, helping to make the Blackwood family even more of a sideshow.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he hurried. He needed time to go through her things and look for this special letter his father had sent her. He wanted to see for himself what Buck had had to say. How he explained cutting his own children out of their inheritance.

Kel had never had much of a relationship with his father. Buck had always been too busy swooping down on failing companies to buy them out and sell them, adding to his millions. But none of that mattered now. The family legacy, the ranch, the business, should stay in the family. Blackwood Hollow alone was valued at more than $60 million and that wasn’t even counting Blackwood Bank and Buck’s personal fortune.

Why would he leave it all to Miranda? Hell, they’d been divorced for years. Kel needed to know what was going on and the only way to get those answers was to pry them out of Miranda—even if she didn’t know about it.

He opened another door and smiled. Another Christmas tree stood resplendent in front of the windows overlooking the back of the house and the swimming pool. Women’s clothes were strewed across the bed, there was a hairbrush on the dresser and, in spite of the tree, even the air smelled feminine.

In a rush, Kel pushed that thought aside and headed for the closet. It was filled with clothes that he absently noted looked a lot more conservative than what he was used to seeing Miranda wear. He dismissed it when he didn’t find anything and went to the bedside tables. Nothing. Then he hit the dresser where he found drawers of sweaters and shirts and yoga pants. Also very un-Miranda-like. No letters, no papers. Nothing.

“Damn it,” he muttered, reaching for the next drawer. “Where the hell did she put it?”

He tugged on the drawer pull and saw a collection of delicate bras and panties. Black, pink, red, blue—a rainbow of lace and silk. Gritting his teeth, he ran his hand through the silky fabric, tumbling them all, looking for an envelope that wasn’t there. Frustrated, he stopped dead when sounds erupted from the adjoining bathroom. Was she here after all? Was Sophie wrong about Miranda trotting around town spending his father’s money in front of an audience of cameras?

The door opened, steam poured out—and through that misty fog, a woman appeared as if from a dream. It wasn’t Miranda.

It was the one woman Kel hadn’t wanted—or dared—to see again.

Her long strawberry blond hair was damp, lying across her shoulders and draping onto the towel wrapped around what he knew from personal experience was a hell of a body. Her dark green eyes were wide and those long legs of hers were displayed like living temptation.

“Irina Romanov.”

She actually tightened her grip on the towel she wore. “Kellan? What are you doing in my room?”

God, that voice. Husky. Tempting. With just the slightest tinge of a Russian accent. In an instant, he was thrown back in time seven years. It had been Christmas then, too. For a week, the two of them had spent nearly every waking moment in bed together. Or anywhere else they’d found a flat surface. And then he’d realized what he was doing and he’d left Texas—and Irina—behind him.

If he allowed it, even now, he could hear her whispers in the dark. Feel her hands on him. Taste her hard nipples as he slammed his body into hers until they were both screaming with need. That long, unforgettable week had seared his soul and stirred a heart he’d believed dead.

Still clutching that too-small towel to her like a shield, Irina looked him dead in the eye and said, “Get out, Kellan.”

Probably best, he told himself, since at the moment, all he could think about was tearing that towel off her and tossing her onto the bed. Or the floor. Or against the wall. His body didn’t care how he had her—just that he did have her. His dick felt like stone, his breath was caught in his chest and the slow, hard hammer of his heart thundered in his ears.

Kel took a long, deep breath in an attempt to find steadiness. “Fine. I’ll go. But I’m not leaving the house. I’ll be downstairs when you’re dressed.”

The minute he left her room, Irina slammed the door and locked it. Turning around, she leaned back against the solid oak panel and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Her heartbeat was simply out of control, and what felt like dragons were swarming in the pit of her stomach.

She forced air into her lungs and swallowed hard against the rising tide of tears. Why should she cry? She should be outraged. Furious. It had been seven years since he’d walked away, and her first emotion on seeing him again was teary anticipation?

Just like that, the burning in her eyes disappeared and the burn in her heart began. Seeing him again was a shock, even though she’d known he’d come home to Royal after Buck’s death. He had to go to his father’s funeral after all.

Irina had thought she was prepared—more or less—to see him again. She simply hadn’t been ready to greet him while she was stark naked but for a towel. Being naked around Kel was not a good idea. Not with their past. Not with the temptation he presented simply by settling his gaze on her.

He looked good, too. Even better, somehow, than he had so long ago. He wore that elegantly cut suit the way a medieval knight might wear his armor. He was powerful, strong, gorgeous. All things dangerous. His dark brown hair was still kept short—he thought it efficient—and like always, he had a day or two’s growth of beard on his face. The scruff of whiskers reminded her of how that stubble alternately tickled and scratched her skin.

The flash in Kel’s blue eyes had disarmed her. She had read heat there and remembered the fire that had consumed them both whenever they touched. She remembered long nights, with the Christmas tree lights the only illumination in the room. She remembered lazy dawns, wrapped in each other’s arms before she was forced to get up and go to work as a maid in the big house.

In fact, Irina remembered all of it as if that week with him were burned into her brain.

Back then, she’d convinced herself she was living a fairy tale. The oldest son in a dynasty, falling in love with a maid in his father’s house. But the fairy tale ended with a whimper when Kellan left Texas. There were no letters, no calls and, apparently, no regrets. Then Irina was alone again with empty dreams and a broken heart.

She’d long suspected Buck had known about what had gone on between her and his oldest son. The older man had been especially kind to her when Kellan left town. And that kindness—like everything else Buck had done for her—was something she could never repay. It had taken her a long time to find her way again and she had no intention of allowing herself to slide back down into darkness. Kellan was here, but wouldn’t be for long. Her life was in Royal. Her future was one she would build for herself.

“I don’t need Kellan,” she said aloud, more to strengthen her resolve than anything. “I’ve built my own life now. Without him.”

Irina wasn’t the same woman she had been when she and Kellan were together so briefly—and memorably. She’d been to college. She was in law school now and she was a budding author. She’d grown and taken care of herself and she wouldn’t be drawn back into an affair with a man who didn’t value her.

It didn’t matter that one look at him had undone seven years of self-discipline. She could be strong. All she had to do was keep her distance. A few miles would probably do the trick.

“All right,” she said quietly, lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders. “I can do this. Get dressed. Talk to Kellan. And then this time I will be the one to say goodbye.”

Two

Lulu Shepard took a good look at Main Street. She wasn’t ready to admit this on camera yet, but she actually liked Royal, Texas. The people were nice; their hotel, the Bellamy, was luxurious and the town made a nice change from Manhattan. People were so friendly, too. Not like Manhattan, where you could probably bleed from an artery and go unnoticed.