Return of the Secret Heir

Straightening his spine, he crossed the polished tile floor. He stopped behind her, within touching distance, his pulse thudding in his veins. She was picking up her messages from the receptionist, the husky undertones still there despite the professional voice she used.

This close, he could smell her—a perfume that reminded him of fresh mountain water, but through it, her own scent was palpable, and his head swam with its sweetness.

“Pia.” The word escaped his lips without thought.

She swung around to face him, her lips parted in surprise. For an extended moment, no one moved. JT stared into violet-blue eyes more familiar than his own even after the years apart.

He almost reached out to soothe the frown lines on her forehead … but the reality was, they were virtually strangers now.

Dear Reader,

I have to admit to being a bit sad writing this letter, because it will be my last contact with the three Bramson brothers. These three men have been living in my head and on my computer screen for a while now, and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed having them there.

The final brother, JT Hartley, has been brought up away from the Bramson fortune and become a self-made man. If you’ve read the first two books, you’ll have briefly met JT’s heroine—the lawyer working on Warner Bramson’s estate (though if you haven’t read the first two, don’t worry, this one stands alone just fine). They were school sweethearts who were torn apart by circumstances beyond their control.

I love a reunion story, and I was thrilled to be able to give JT and Pia the ending I thought they deserved. For some behind the scenes glimpses into this book, drop over to my website, www.rachelbailey.com.

I hope you enjoy your time with JT and Pia as much as I did.

Cheers,

Rachel

RACHEL BAILEY developed a serious book addiction at a young age (via Peter Rabbit and Jemima Puddleduck) and has never recovered. Just how she likes it. She went on to earn degrees in psychology and social work, but is now living her dream—writing romance for a living.

She lives on a piece of paradise on Australia’s Sunshine Coast with her hero and four dogs, where she loves to sit with a dog or two, overlooking the trees and reading books from her evergrowing to-be-read pile.

Rachel would love to hear from you and can be contacted through her website, www.rachelbailey.com.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is for Amanda, my big sister, who won’t read

it but will cry when she sees this. Mandy, no matter where we go in life, no matter what we do, you will always be older than me.

With thanks to Barb, Robbie and Sharon for the pep

talks and the suggestions. And to Mum for the cups of coffee and the quiet house.

And to Charles Griemsman for his skillful editing,

and Jenn Schober for her support.

As the elevator doors opened to reveal the twenty-third-floor offices, JT Hartley’s heart uncharacteristically lurched against his ribs.

She was there.

A mere ten feet away, standing at the reception desk with her back to him, her bright copper hair respectably pinned up. The body made for sin had become even more lush with maturity, her hourglass figure constrained beneath the buttoned-down cappuccino jacket and skirt. The air in his lungs evaporated as the years melted away. The need to grasp her, wrap her in his arms, was overwhelming, but he resisted. It’d been almost fourteen long years since she’d allowed him that right.

His attorney Philip Hendricks cleared his throat and JT glanced over, realizing that Philip was holding the elevator doors open, a question in his eyes. They’d waited in the downtown Manhattan car park for an hour for Pia to arrive before following her up. He’d gleaned the information from one of the receptionists that Pia had been off with a cold but was expected back today.

Now it was time for the next phase in JT’s plan to claim the money that was rightfully his. Straightening his spine, he stepped out and crossed the polished tiled floor. He stopped behind her, within touching distance, his pulse thudding in his veins. She was picking up her messages from the receptionist, the husky undertones still there despite the professional voice she used.

This close he could smell her—a perfume that reminded him of fresh mountain water, but through it, her own scent was palpable, and his head swam with its sweetness. A vision flashed in his mind of Pia on the back of his bike, her body pressed against his, the wind whipping past as he rode to their secret place out of town.

“Pia.” The word escaped his lips without thought.

A pen clattered to the desk and she swung around to face him, her lips parted in surprise. For an extended moment, no one moved. JT stared into violet-blue eyes more familiar than his own even after the years apart. She gripped a folder to her chest and it rose and fell with her breaths. He almost reached out to soothe the frown lines on her forehead, but reality was, they were virtually strangers now.