Was she the mystery lady who’d come to his room? Or was he grasping at straws? Wrongly evaluating the first woman he saw? Maybe if he heard her speak again. Maybe her voice…

“What’s your name?” he asked her.

She took an audible breath, and Leo frowned.

“If you’re itching for female companionship, we can get you a woman,” the security chief told Justin, not allowing the maid to answer.

Damn it. Justin cursed his mistake. He hadn’t meant to be so obvious, so openly attracted to her. “I’m not itching for anything, I just want to know her name.”

Leo gestured for her to respond.

“It’s Maya,” she said, keeping her eyes downcast and fussing with a silver coffee service. “Maya Reyes.”

Her voice didn’t trigger familiarity. But he couldn’t ask her to whisper, to talk in a softer tone, to mimic his angel. “That’s a pretty name.”

“Thank you.” She finished her work and left the parlor without meeting his gaze.

“She’s supposed to know her place,” Leo said. “All of our employees are.”

Irritated, Justin glared at the Hulk. “What’s taking this meeting so long to happen?”

Leo shrugged.

But several minutes later he announced that Brian Halloway had just entered the room. Tall and trim with graying blond hair, Brian carried himself like a corporate billionaire, exhibiting a commanding sense of style.

He extended his hand, but Justin refused to shake it, spurning him the way he’d spurned Leo.

“What’s wrong?” Brian asked, a humorous glint in his eye. “Were you expecting Tony Soprano?”

Justin remained silent. He knew the West Coast Family wasn’t an Italian outfit. They were equal-opportunity criminals.

“My brother asked me to apologize for his absence. Richard intended to be here, but he got called away on a business trip.” Brian remained standing. “He’s looking forward to meeting you.”

Justin snapped back. “I don’t care about your brother. And I don’t give a damn about you. I want to see my parents. And my sister, if she’s here.”

Brian made a perplexed expression. “I don’t understand.”

“Your security chief said my family was anxious to see me.”

“Your family, yes. Your parents and sister, no. Leo misled you.” Brian frowned at the Hulk, but the big man kept his cool. He didn’t even blink.

The boss returned his attention to Justin, playing the ultimate host. “Can I get you something? Crab canapés? Garlic and cheese bruschetta? Liver paté? You must be starving by now. This should hold you over until dinner.”

Screw the food. Justin didn’t care if he hadn’t eaten in two days. “I want to know what the hell is going on.”

“Then I’ll tell you, straight from the hip. I’m your family. Me, my brother.” The mobster held his gaze. “You’re not Justin Elk.” He paused for effect. “You’re Justin Halloway.”

Chapter 2

Justin glared at the other man. “What kind of game are you playing?”

“No game. Your mother was my sister, Beverly. She died without telling us that she’d had a child.”

His gut tightened, tying itself into ropey knots. “This has to be a mistake.”

“It’s the truth. I’ve got the DNA test to prove it. We swabbed you while you were sedated.” Brian reached into his jacket pocket and removed a sealed envelope. “You’re welcome to review the results.”

Justin took the envelope, but he didn’t open it. He wouldn’t give Brian the satisfaction. “If Beverly’s my mother, then who’s my father?”

The boss made a distasteful face. “Reed Blackwood.”

The man he’d been told was his uncle? He glanced at Leo. Reed was the once-upon-a-time friend the security chief had mentioned. “My parents wouldn’t have lied to me. They wouldn’t have let me think that I was their son.”

“But they did, Justin. Look at the report.”

“This could be a forgery.”

“You’re right. It could be, but it isn’t.” The mobster poured a cup of coffee and took a sip. “Being a Halloway is your legacy, your birthright. Whether you like it or not.”

“You drugged me. You kidnapped me.” Justin all but snarled. “What kind of legacy, what kind of birthright is that?”

“We got your attention, didn’t we? And no matter how much you try to deny it, we added some excitement to your life.” Brian had the gall to smile. “We know you were restless. That your daily routine was getting mundane. Besides, if the test had been negative, we would have returned you to Texas and never revealed ourselves.” He glanced at Lester, and the pooch wagged his tail. “We would have sent the dog along, too.” He smiled again. “And the Remington.”

Justin squinted. They would have given him a four-to-five-million-dollar statue for the inconvenience? Talk about having money to burn. “That sounds like a better deal to me.”

“What does? Not being related to us and going home with a costly consolation prize? Your inheritance is worth far more than that, nephew. And the Remington is yours either way.”

Nephew? “No harm? No foul?”

“Exactly.”

Except for his angel, Justin thought. The woman who’d already told him who they were. “I could press charges against you.”

Brian tilted his head. “Yes, you could. Kidnapping is a federal offense.”

How poised could the other man be? How calm? How sure of himself? “But you don’t think I will, do you?”

“No. I think you need us. That there’s an emptiness inside of you we can fill. And we need you, too. You’re all that’s left of Beverly. I can’t tell you how much we loved your mother. How special she wastous.”

Justin bent the corner of the envelope. He still hadn’t opened it, still hadn’t looked at the results. He nailed Brian’s gaze instead. “My mother’s name is Heather Elk.”

“Heather raised you, but she isn’t your biological mother.” Brian tasted the pate. “Do you know how we figured out that you might be Beverly’s son? My father, your grandfather, came across a newspaper article in the prison library about a dead baby, and it triggered his memory. Something from the past.”

Justin turned morbidly silent, as though he hadn’t heard about the infant before now.

Brian continued, “The police were looking for the public’s help to identify the baby. They offered all sorts of details. They said it was a newborn that had been dead for thirty years. A boy with Native American genetics. They can tell a lot about a corpse by its bones.” He finished the appetizer. “Dad knew he’d stumbled onto something. The location where they’d found the baby rang a bell. Thirty years ago, we tracked Reed, Beverly and Heather there.”

“Why?”

“To kill Reed and bring Beverly home. They’d run off to elope, and Heather was trying to help them. They all managed to escape. This was before Reed went into WITSEC. Witness Security,” Brian clarified.

“That still doesn’t explain my paternity.”

“Both women were pregnant. Of course at the time we didn’t know there was one baby, let alone two. Reed, Beverly and Heather were on the run for eighteen months. Even Michael had no idea where they were. When Heather and Beverly returned on their own, Beverly was terminally ill, and Heather presented Michael with a ten-month-old son.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. As far as we can figure, their real child died and was secretly buried. It’s the infant that was found, the one Dad read about. According to the article, it was laid to rest with a toy, a windup pony. And guess what? We discovered that you had one just like it. We got a hold of old photographs. You used to cart that thing everywhere.”

Justin narrowed his gaze. It was obvious they’d been investigating every aspect of his life, past and present, making sure he was connected to the dead baby before they kidnapped him. “So Beverly came home to die, Reed struck a deal with the government, and Heather and Michael became my parents?”

“Only it was Beverly who conceived you with that traitor lover of hers.” A slight pause. A slight thought. “Did you know that Reed was a West Coast Family soldier? Besides being an ex-con and an accomplished thief, he had a genius IQ and built countersurvelliance equipment in his spare time. He impressed us at first, especially Dad.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“We’re aware that you have a genius IQ, too.”

Meaning what? That he’d inherited his superior intelligence from a guy with no morals?

Justin finally opened the sealed envelope and looked at the contents. 99.9 percent positive. He wanted to crumble it, to trash it, but that wouldn’t change the results. He steeled his emotions instead.

The other man waited a beat, then continued, “When Reed seduced Beverly, all hell broke loose. She was a college student, the pride of our daddy’s eye. In the old mob way, you’re supposed to ask for permission to date the boss’s daughter.”

“So why didn’t Reed ask?”

“Because he botched up a job he was sent to do, and Dad stopped trusting him. There was no way he was going to let him keep seeing Beverly. He warned Reed to stay away from his daughter.”

“So Reed convinced Beverly to run away with him?”

“Exactly. And then Heather got dragged into it. She was naïve when it came to her brother.”

Justin gripped the back of a wing back chair. His mother rarely talked about Reed. Aside from admitting that he’d testified against Denny Halloway and entered the witness protection program, she kept her memories to herself.

“That bastard left you behind,” Brian said. “He could have taken you into WITSEC with him, but he couldn’t be bothered. You’d do well to hate him.”

“Don’t tell me how to feel,” Justin shot back, even though he was starting to despise Reed. “What’s the deal with Beverly? Why didn’t she admit to her family that I was her son? Why the big charade?”

“Beverly loved us, but she detested our lifestyle. I guess she thought you’d be better off without us.”

“I can’t say I blame her.”

“We’re different now.”

Justin blinked. “What?”

“We’re not involved in organized crime anymore. People still associate us with it, of course. But all of our businesses are legitimate now.”

Yeah, right. He might have been born under shaky circumstances, but he hadn’t been born yesterday. “You actually expect me to believe that?”

Brian laughed a little. “No, I suppose not. Not after we kidnapped you. But aside from that, we haven’t broken the law in years. Richard and I weeded out the bad blood in our organization. We made a conscious choice to change who and what we are.”

Justin glanced at Leo, but the security chief didn’t react. He stood like a sentry, gun clipped to his belt, with the sun illuminating his Hulkish form.

People don’t change, he thought. Not like that. “Whose idea was it to kidnap me?”

“Dad’s.”

“So he’s still calling the shots? Even though he’s locked up?”

“Dad thought it was important to expose you to the kind of power our family wields. Whether we’re criminals or not.”

“I don’t give a crap about your power.”

“Eventually you will. Once you get past the kidnapping, you’ll enjoy the entitlement that comes with being a Halloway. And you’ll admit that your life was getting boring. That we managed to spice it up.”

Screw this. “I’m going back to Texas.”

“What for?”

“Why the hell do you think? To talk to my mom and dad.” To rage, to vent, he thought. To fight the pain, the lies, the deceit.

“We were hoping that you’d spend the rest of your vacation with us.” Brian made a joke. “After all the trouble it took to get you here.”

Frustration hit him hard and quick. He wasn’t in the mood for petty humor.

The other man caught his scowl and turned serious. “Are you angry at your parents?”

Justin didn’t answer the question. He spun it around on his supposedly “reformed” mobster uncle. “Are you mad at Beverly for keeping the truth from you?”

“It’s tough to be angry at someone who’s gone, who died so tragically. But I wish she had allowed us the opportunity to know you when you were young. That she wouldn’t have robbed us of her son.”

“It could have turned out the other way. The other baby could have been Beverly and Reed’s child.”

“Yes, it could have. And we would have notified the authorities if that had been the case. We would have asked for its remains so we could give it a decent burial. I imagine Heather and Michael will want to do that. But the police will probably grill them. They’ll have to answer some difficult questions. According to the article we read, this is being treated like a homicide.”

Justin nodded. He’d assumed the infant had been murdered, too.

“After you go home, after you settle things in Texas, will you come back?” Brian asked. “Will you visit with us? Will you give us a chance?”

Justin stalled, thinking about his angel, about the possibility that she was Maya, the maid who’d been too uncomfortable to meet his gaze. How could he keep his promise to her if he didn’t return?

“We’d like to make a formal announcement,” Brian added. “Introduce you to the rest of the family and tell all of our friends who you are. Maybe host a few parties.”

Parties? Justin snagged Leo’s gaze and felt his bones go cold. He didn’t want to get caught up in being the long-lost nephew, in being Denny Halloway’s revered grandson, in having men like Leo standing guard. But he’d already made his mind up earlier that he wasn’t going to abandon the woman who’d asked for his help.

“Our pilot can take you to Texas,” Brian said. “And he can bring you back. It’s the family jet. That’s what it’s for.”

“Where’s my truck?”

“Here. In the garage. But you’re not going to drive, are you?”

“No. I’ll fly. On your jet,” Justin responded, praying that he was making the right choice.

That his angel was worth it.

The chef scowled at Maya. A wiry man with a shaved head and a neatly trimmed goatee, he used his apron strings like tentacles.

Maya didn’t like him. But none of the kitchen maids did. Behind his back, they called him Lucifer.

She finished preparing the cart, and he peered over her shoulder, inspecting her work.

Several hours after Justin had attended the private meeting, he’d ordered dinner for himself and the puppy she’d seen in the parlor. Or she assumed it was Justin who’d requested the meal. He was the only visitor at the mansion.

“Maids aren’t allowed to consort with guests,” Lucifer said, lifting his pointy nose at her.

Her pulse wouldn’t quit pounding. “I know.”

“Mr. Elk specifically asked for you.”

Damn, she thought. Damn. “I didn’t provoke that.” Nor had she known that Justin’s last name was Elk.

The chef measured her. “I certainly hope not. Now get going. He’s in the Garden Tower.”

Maya didn’t respond. The suite where Justin had been held hostage, the room she’d secretly visited, was aptly named, towering over the garden with a prestigious view.

She took the service elevator to the third floor and traveled down what suddenly seemed like an endless hallway.

She knocked on Justin’s door, and he gave her permission to enter.

Maya wheeled the cart into the sitting room, and the puppy ran toward her. Justin stood beside the sofa. Tall and dark with rangy muscles, he shifted his stance. His hair rebelled against the way he wore it, falling onto his forehead even though he’d combed it straight back. A glimmer of silver winked in his left ear. She hadn’t noticed the tiny hoop before, but it fit his Cherokee side, the quarter-blood roots he’d told her about.

Taking a deep breath, she warned herself to relax. When she looked up and met his gaze, she saw the scrutiny in his eyes.

He suspected her.

“Where would you like to eat?” she asked.

He kept watching her, trying to figure her out. “At the table is fine.”

She moved toward the cozy dining area. Sniffing the air, the puppy followed.

“You can put his bowl on the floor,” Justin said.

She nodded and gave the dog his food. He ate it noisily, wolfing it down with chowhound vigor.

As she arranged Justin’s silverware, her heart struck her chest. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of her, not even to blink.

She struggled to keep her distance, to not give herself away. Or to admit that she was attracted to him. That sitting beside him on his bed and brushing her hand along his cheek had made her warm.

Erotically warm.

“Do you know why I’m here?” he asked, attempting to call her bluff.

She didn’t respond.

“Because I’m a Halloway,” he told her. “A long-lost relative.”

Maya dropped his salad fork, and it chimed against the table. She recovered it quickly, but the damage was already done. Justin gauged her reaction, watching her with keener interest.

She’d sneaked into his room because she needed an ally. Because she was hoping that a man who’d been kidnapped would jump at the chance to fight back. But if she’d known who he was, she would’ve never approached him.

“According to Brian, my mother was his sister.” He pushed his hair back, battling the rain-straight rebellion. “Her name was Beverly. She’s dead now.”

Maya tried to focus on her job, to pour his wine, but her hand wouldn’t quit shaking. She’d seen Beverly’s portrait in the den, hanging on the wall like a shrine.

No wonder Justin was important to the Halloways. No wonder they hadn’t intended to hurt him.

How stupid could she be, seeking him out? But worse yet was admitting that someone in her family had gone missing. What if he told the Halloways? What if they found a way to connect her to her dad?

Justin pulled up a chair and sat at the table, forcing his proximity, making Maya lose her train of thought. Her mind was twirling like a press-and-spin top. She struggled to serve his meal.

“They said that Reed Blackwood is my father. But I always thought he was my uncle.”

She tried not to flinch. He was bringing up Reed’s name to get her reaction. She’d already told him that she’d read about his uncle…his dad. Heaven help her.

“I’m returning to Texas in the morning,” Justin said. “That’s where I’m from. I wasn’t sure if you were aware of that.”

“Then I hope you have a good trip,” she finally responded, trying to sound like a proper maid, as if she didn’t know anything about him.

“I’m coming back. I made a special promise to someone.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. He was staring straight at her, holding her captive. Kidnapping her the way the mob had kidnapped him.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” he asked.

She glanced away. “I’m not supposed to get too friendly with guests.”

“There’s no one here but us.”

“You requested me by name. You shouldn’t have done that.” Beyond nervous, she placed his dessert on the table. “You’ll get me fired.”

“No, I won’t. I’m a Halloway, remember?” He made a grand gesture. “One of the lords of the manor.”

“I’m not supposed to get overly familiar with family members, either.”

“I’m not telling you anything that you won’t find out about later.” He reached for his wine. “Brian wants to make a formal announcement. To introduce me to the rest of the Halloways. To host a few parties in my honor.” He paused, tasted the chardonnay. “Not that there won’t be a few skeletons left over in my closet.”

Like the dead baby? He hadn’t mentioned that. But it must have something to with his paternity.

“If there isn’t anything else I can get you, then I should go. The chef—”

“Warned you not to get too familiar with me?” He kept watching her.

“Yes.” She couldn’t think clearly, not with him looking at her like that.

“I’m not trying to get you into trouble, Maya.”

No, she thought. He was waiting for her to come clean, to tell him who she was. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it, and he didn’t ask her directly, just in case she was the wrong girl.

“Will you look after Lester while I’m gone?” he asked instead.

She frowned. “Lester?”

He pointed to the dog, and the puppy danced in a circle. “He was a gift from the Halloways. He looks a lot like my childhood pet. It was tough to resist him.”

She glanced at the mixed-breed. He was so ugly he was cute. “I shouldn’t—”

“Get overly familiar with my dog? What’s the harm in that?”

She wanted to trust Justin. She wanted to believe that he was as honest as he seemed. “No harm,” she said, taking a small chance.

He smiled, revealing a set of boyishly lethal dimples, making her wonder what she’d gotten herself into. He actually turned her knees weak. How sexy could he be?

“I’ll tell Brian I’m leaving Lester in your care.” The dimples faded. He was no longer smiling. “It’s going to be tough seeing my parents. I’ll be glad to get it over with.”

She tried to seem unaffected, but she couldn’t help thinking about her own parents and the secret they’d kept.

“Are you okay?” he asked, as a shiver sliced her spine.

She looked up at the man who’d promised to help her. A man whose new family she believed was responsible for whatever had happened to her dad. “I’m fine.” She glanced at the food he’d yet to eat. “Just put the dishes outside of your door when you’re done.”

He reached out to brush her arm. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes.” His concern, his deliberate touch, made her weak-kneed all over again.

A moment later, she left his room, anxious for him to return to the mansion.

And wishing to God she wasn’t.

Chapter 3

Justin sat on his parents’ porch. The red-and-white farmhouse was as familiar as the beat of his heart. Bluebonnets bloomed every spring, and a live oak in the front yard clawed its way to the sky.

But it gave him no peace.

He’d grown up at Elk Ridge Ranch: the five-star guest lodge, the rustic rental cabins, the grassy slopes, the limestone caves. His own house, a log dwelling in the hills, was his sanctuary.

Or so he’d thought. Today he felt disconnected from everything, even the loving, caring people who’d raised him.

He turned to look at his dad. At fifty-five Michael Elk was strong and well built. Although his hair was streaked with gray and had thinned a bit over the years, he still wore it long and banded into a ponytail, the way a lot of older Indians did.

Justin had expected to age just like him, to get sun-burnished lines at the corners of his eyes, to see a recognizable image in the mirror. But how was that possible? They weren’t related, not by blood.

He studied his mom next. Heather Elk. He remembered when she was pregnant with his sister. He’d touched her tummy and asked her if he’d lived inside of her, too. And she’d scooped him up and told him that he had. He’d cuddled in her arms, thinking she was the most beautiful mommy on earth, with her princess-in-the-tower hair and crayon-blue eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice breaking.

“For what? Lying to me?” Justin was supposed to be part white because of her. But it was Beverly who’d given him his Anglo roots. And Reed who made him part Indian. His mom’s half brother was half-Cherokee. “How’d you fake my birth certificate?”

A strand of white-blond hair fluttered across her cheek. “It’s a legitimate document, but it was filed ten months after you were born.”

With phony information, he thought. “When I was a kid, you told me that the photo album with my early baby pictures had been lost. But that was a lie, too. There are no pictures. You couldn’t snap them while you were on the run.”

“No, we couldn’t,” she responded simply.

He pressed her, wanting answers, wanting to know about the other child. “Did your real son have a name? Did you give him one before you buried him?”

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