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  He grinned so hard the sides of his mouth hurt.

  The bathroom echoed with her creative curses in both Spanish and English. The woman sure had a mouth on her.

  Feeling incredibly lighter, Rico spoke through the closed door. “Frankie?”

  “What?”

  “Would it make you feel better if I got naked too?”

  How high a price would you pay to belong?

  Midnight Legacy

  © 2007 Dee Tenorio

  Book Three in the Midnight Trilogy

  Tara Sellers has an identity problem. Having grown up in countless foster homes, she scratches out a living as a paparazzi photographer. Until she discovers she’s the illegitimate daughter of one of the richest men in the world. Suddenly, everything she thought she knew about herself is a lie.

  Dr. Perry Chase has a proximity problem. His friendship with the Remingtons has long defined him, but when they ask him to help steer their newfound sister to seeing things their way, he can’t let himself get too close to his very attractive prey. But he can’t seem to make himself get far enough away, either.

  By day, they bicker, but by night their private lessons turn to passion.

  Unclear who she is and who she wants to be, Tara must decide how much she’s willing to give up for the chance to have a real family of her own.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Midnight Legacy:

  “I found her,” Jordan Remington said softly, a strange glow in her pale blue eyes.

  Dr. Perry Chase looked up from the toasted bagel he was buttering, hoping like hell she didn’t mean who he thought she meant. “Excuse me?”

  Jordan shifted her chair closer to his. “Legacy,” she whispered. “I’ve found her.”

  Chase clamped his hand over hers, dropping his butter knife in his haste. The kids were making their usual Sunday morning clatter, baby Elizabeth squealing while her brother teased her with toast and jam. The two Remington men, Jordan’s sons Skylar and Raven, were engrossed in some sort of discussion about a new disposable pulse oxometer design while Sky’s wife, Evie, did her best to coax Elizabeth into tasting her oatmeal. It was a rare peaceful family visit.

  It wouldn’t be if either of those two men overheard the topic.

  “Can we discuss this later?”

  Jordan’s cheeks flushed. “I thought you’d be excited.”

  Excited? That wasn’t the word he’d use for this situation. Ever.

  “I needed to be sure you’d listen. You’ve been avoiding me every time I’ve tried to update you.”

  For excellent reasons. His well being. Hers. Because they’d both be at risk if her sons knew what they were talking about. “Call me tomorrow morning. I’ll make time.”

  “After breakfast. This can’t wait.” Worry flit across her face when she glanced at her family to see if they were paying any attention. “Please, Chase.”

  He felt the guilt all the way down to his feet. This was the woman who’d raised him; taken him in like one of her own. She should never have to ask anything of him twice. Even this. “All right.”

  She smiled and left him to the bagel he didn’t want anymore. Dread filled his belly just fine, thanks.

  He’d managed to get here last night, as requested, and was pleased to find the men he loved like brothers were actually getting along like blood relatives for once. When they were young, he, Sky and Raven had been inseparable, trailed after by the twins’ little sister Marissa. Then Marissa died and nothing was ever the same. Nearly two decades later, the brothers were just starting to be friends. Yet their mother might just have dug up the one thing guaranteed to make them hate each other all over again. And she was pleased about it.

  No, that wasn’t fair. Jordan knew exactly what this would mean and it wasn’t happiness on her face. If anything, she looked relieved.

  Somehow, relief was scarier.

  She chose the personal sitting room in her suite for what Chase considered nothing less than an execution. He sat in the Queen Anne chair next to her escritoire, feeling as uncomfortable in the feminine space as he always had growing up. This was where they were all brought for her punishments, which were usually assignments of one sort or another. For getting caught playing in the caves on the beach, he’d been assigned the tedious task of hand polishing every speck of silver in the house. His hands were numb long before the task was done, even though it hadn’t done anything to deter any of them from heading right back as soon as the coast was clear. Sitting, he watched Jordan lower herself into a matching chair and met her gaze. Finally, there was trepidation there. It soothed him, somewhat, but not nearly enough. She folded her small hands on her lap, the golden rings on her fingers clinking as her fingers wove together.

  Or was that from a tremor?

  “I’ve found her.”

  “Legacy.” He didn’t need confirmation again, but he said the name anyway.

  Jordan nodded. “You won’t believe how. Or where.”

  He actually didn’t care, but he made sure not to let his face reflect that.

  “She’s a photographer in Dallas, right back where she started and she probably doesn’t even know it. Paparazzi! The boys are going to love that.”

  “Jordan.” He tried to soften his impatience.

  Her eyes narrowed on him, a flash of her temper quelling him. “I’m not a fool, Chase. I know good and well what this woman is capable of doing to us. You’re the one who doesn’t understand.”

  “Why are you doing this to yourself? The girl you’ve found probably doesn’t know who she is. Better yet, she doesn’t have to know.” He’d come to that conclusion about ten seconds after Jordan confided her strange quest to him more than five years ago.

  “Yes, she does. I have to meet her, Chase. I need to see her and speak to her.”

  “It won’t bring him back.” How many times had he said this to her? He could never give her back the belief that her husband was faithful. He couldn’t take back the birth certificate she’d discovered in Harper Remington’s desk after his untimely death of a massive coronary at the relatively young age of forty. All he could do was try to dissuade her from finding her husband’s love child.

  Well, he’d tried, anyway.

  “I don’t have any interest in bringing Harper back,” Jordan murmured, looking away from him to the tall bay windows lining the south side of the room. “I needed to find his daughter. And I have.” She turned back to him, her expression brittle. “If I had a choice, I’d probably have left the girl to her life, but I don’t have that kind of luxury. I certainly don’t have the option of time. Her thirtieth birthday is December twenty-eighth.”

  Chase’s conscience twitched. In his mind, Legacy was still something of a baby. It was safer that way. Easier. Whenever he thought about her, she had a whole life of possibility ahead of her. The reminder that she was only four years younger than him not only brought to crystal clarity that she was a real woman somewhere…it reminded him that the man he’d once idolized had never been capable of fidelity. His anger at that knowledge never ceased to surprise him.

  “The secret won’t be safe after she turns thirty.”

  Jordan had been speaking, but he hadn’t been listening. “What secret?”

  “Her. Legacy.” Her fingers twisted against each other. “The day after she turns thirty, Harper’s will becomes public. She won’t be safe, Chase, and neither will we.”

  “Safe from what? You’re not making any sense.”

  “I know, but you have to trust me.”

  “Of course I trust you.” What did trust and this nonsense have to do with one another?

  She took a deep breath. “I need you to take care of her for me.”

  Chase stared at her, hoping to understand her request, but his synapses didn’t seem to be firing. “You want me to take care of her?” At her unhelpful nod, he had the coldest sense of surprise wash over him. “You mean…take care of her?”

  “What?” Her head tilted to the side before understan
ding dawned bright and incredulously on her face. “No! I need you to help arrange for her to come to California. For heaven’s sake, Chase, I need you to get to know her, not murder her.”

  Now his blood was definitely cold. “You’re bringing her here?” Why didn’t she just set the woman on fire, it would be faster and possibly less painful. “No, Jordan. No.” He stood up, ready to walk out of the room. He’d even made it all the way to the double doors when she finally called his name.

  “If you don’t help me control this, everything we’ve built is going to disappear. This family, this house, our entire future. It’ll be gone.”

  Chase kept his hand on the knob. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew he was being cornered into something—a terrible something—but he couldn’t leave knowing Jordan needed him. “This isn’t just about meeting Harper’s illegitimate daughter, is it?”

  It took her some time before she whispered, “No.”

  Chase swallowed, waiting. Harper’s lost legacy was taking on a whole new meaning, but if the knotting in his stomach was anything to go by, it was probably going to be far worse than he worried over.

  “The day after her thirtieth birthday, his will becomes unsealed and the codicil goes into effect. Legacy has until her thirtieth birthday to lay claim to her inheritance or it goes to a list of charities Harper devised.”

  Since the Remingtons had more money than they could spend in the next ten generations, Chase wondered what could scare Jordan for fifteen years. Unless…

  “All the monies, Remington Medical Industries, everything financial is built into the trust. Harper couldn’t take from the boys what was theirs by birthright. All that was left is what passes to the oldest son of every generation, separately.”

  Chase finally realized why Jordan was so enamored of the view.

  “This house, this land, and everything on it, belongs to her.”

  Somehow, swearing didn’t feel quite up to covering it. Harper had leveraged away Sky’s inheritance. Given away the land that was so intrinsic to all of them. Hell, he’d just ripped the home right out from under his wife without so much as a warning. Anger at a dead man never seemed so damned pointless. Or necessary.

  He looked down at the file in his hands. Were they about to take their anger out on the wrong person? Did they have a choice? “What’s your plan?”

  “Isn’t it obvious, dear?” she said, not even batting her lashes. “You are my plan.”

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