The Inheritance. Marie Ferrarella
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even have let them have Bethany, if he hadn’t given his word to Lil that he wouldn’t. With almost the last breath in her body, she’d begged him not to let the pair get their hands on Bethany. Not to put her baby through the hell she’d lived through and barely survived as a child. Lil wanted something better for Bethany. And it was up to him to see that she got it.
So he’d gone to a lawyer, first thing, and plunked down his hard-earned money, knowing that he needed help to allow him to keep his word. That stuck in his throat a little, not being able to do it alone. He was used to fighting his own battles, cleaning up his own messes. He’d been doing it ever since he could remember, raising himself because his parents were either too busy fighting or too busy living their own lives to take any notice of him.
Well, strictly speaking, he supposed his mother had tried her best. But the former showgirl was far more suited to dancing in skimpy outfits than to being a mother. She hadn’t the faintest idea what a kid needed. But Veronica Maitland had given him love and he supposed she had done her best.
He didn’t fault her. He faulted his father, who actually was a Maitland. In Rafe’s book, they were all probably like his old man. Out for themselves, self-serving. There had to be some kind of gimmick behind this invitation, he thought, and he wasn’t about to play along. Not if there wasn’t anything in it for him.
As seductive as standing under the shower was, Rafe forced himself to hurry. He didn’t want to greet the new cook’s daughter in his birthday suit. He’d seen the way the cook could swing a cleaver and wanted to take no chances on being on the receiving end of that.
Getting out, Rafe quickly toweled himself dry and slid on a clean pair of jeans. Alyssa, he figured, would be here with the baby any minute. They had an arrangement. She watched the baby during the day while he worked, and he was teaching her to ride. He figured he was getting the better end of the deal.
His hair still damp from the shower, his clean shirt only half buttoned, Rafe opened his bedroom door and walked out of the room to find that the woman in the large glasses and sensible shoes was once again standing in his living room.
“What the hell are you doing back?” he demanded.
Her back to him, Greer jumped, startled. She hadn’t heard the door open. She’d been waiting for him, trying to string together her words so that she could make an effective argument, and he’d surprised her.
She bit her lower lip. She was better at delivering an argument on paper than in person, but it was time she learned how to talk.
“I never left.”
Rafe indicated the door behind her. “Well, leave now.”
She stood her ground. “No, not until you actually hear me out.” And not until you say yes, she added silently. She began to talk quickly, knowing he was getting ready to cut her off. “The reason Mrs. Maitland never got in contact with you before is that, until just recently, she was as ignorant of you as you were of her. The point is—” Greer drew herself up “—you know about each other now and now is all that counts.”
He’d always admired guts, and he had to admit, she seemed to have guts in spades. Instead of throwing the woman out, he rethought the situation. If he gave her a condition she couldn’t meet, she’d be forced to withdraw and stop badgering him. And his conscience would be clean.
“You’re right,” he agreed. “Now is all that counts. If you’re so hot to get me there, fine. But I need a favor.” He leveled his gaze at her. “Now.”
The nervousness she’d been experiencing ever since she’d seen him walking toward her like a stalking panther intensified.
“What kind of favor?” She failed to keep the tension out of her voice.
A fragment of what the lawyer he’d gone to had said to him came back to Rafe. The attorney had told him that he would have an easier time of gaining custody of Bethany if he was married or at least engaged.
Okay, that was it. He looked at her. “I need a fiancée.”
It was to Greer’s credit that her mouth didn’t drop open. “I beg your pardon?”
He had her, Rafe thought triumphantly. He could almost hear the door closing behind her already.
“No need to beg anything. I made a promise to two friends, the best friends a man could ever want, and in order to keep that promise, it looks like I’m going to need a fiancée. A wife, really, but I don’t think I have to carry this act too far.” She was going to turn tail and run any second, he promised himself. “Tell me, Greer, do you want me to go to this Christmas thing enough to pretend to be my fiancée?”
This was insane. What he was asking was plain crazy. It went way above and beyond the call of duty to the point of being absurd. A fiancée.
She had no idea why she was even considering it.
Because, a tiny voice within her whispered, in all likelihood, this was going to be the closest she would ever get to being anyone’s fiancée or to wearing an engagement ring, other than staring at one through Tiffany’s window.
Besides, more than likely, the man was bluffing. If she met his bluff, he’d be forced to give in and give up. She smiled at him with a shade of triumph. She had him.
“Yes.”
She saw surprise register on his lean, tanned face, followed by shock. Greer congratulated herself on guessing correctly.
Self-congratulations were short-lived as she saw a smile beginning at the corners of his mouth. Though it was a small smile, it seemed to make all the difference in the world. His austere face turned heart-stoppingly handsome.
Greer felt her heart go into double-time before she could think to rein it in. The air turned several degrees warmer than it already was.
An uneasiness began to spread through her. What in heaven’s name had she just gotten herself into?
Chapter 2
Okay, Rafe thought, his mind racing as he pieced things together, realigning them in light of what had just transpired, maybe this whole reunion idea might actually work out to his benefit. His, and more important, Bethany’s.
Until the lady with the ridiculous name had pushed him a little too hard, he hadn’t been thinking along the lines of deception, but hell, he’d learned a long time ago that when an avalanche of lemons starts tumbling your way, you had damn well better learn how to make lemonade out of them fast.
This, he decided, was going to be lemonade.
All right, this was going to be a lie, he allowed, but it wasn’t the kind of lie his father habitually told. This was going to be a lie for a good purpose, and sometimes the end did justify the means. Especially if that end meant that he got to keep Bethany.
What he needed right now was a little something extra in his corner to tip the scales. After all, this was Lil’s uncle and aunt he was taking on in the courtroom, not her parents or grandparents, both of whom, had they been alive, would have had a lot more leverage than he did in the eyes of the court. The odds became a tiny bit better when the family connection was a little more distant, as it was in this case. If he had a few chips stacked on his side, he might just win this fight. And he needed to win, because he’d given his word.
And because Bethany had already won his heart. He couldn’t rightly see life without her anymore.
The first thing he had to do, he knew even without the attorney’s advice, was to make himself seem respectable and stable in the eyes of the family court judge. Never mind that he’d turned his life around these last few years, going from being a rootless hellion to a man who made a decent living as a foreman on a large ranch. He’d worked his way up to that, spending long, hard hours doing anything that needed doing and learning the ranching business while he was at it. Eventually, he intended to own his own horse ranch, but for now, he was content to work his butt off for a boss who was demanding but fair.
There