LITMIR.BIZ

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sounded slurred when he said, “It took them all by surprise, that’s all.”

      “Yeah, so they jump to the conclusion that you’re a heartbreaker. The asses.”

      “Heartbreaker?” Noah made a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh, wasn’t quite a curse. “Oh, they had better descriptions than that, believe me. You’d think I jilted her at the altar the way they went on.”

      Grace swallowed her choking pain and renewed annoyance. Agatha had told her all about the awful meeting, with Noah summoned to her house to face Kara, along with her mother and father and Agatha herself. He’d stood alone against them, bearing their insults and their blame without defending himself—the same way he’d faced the world most of his life.

      They’d jointly called him to account, and when Noah had refused to explain why he’d ended the engagement, Agatha had threatened to disown him.

      No. Grace curled her arms around the ache in her stomach, the pain in her heart. She would never let that happen. Noah was a part of the family now, and he’d damn well stay a part. She’d make Agatha relent. As her personal secretary, she carried some clout.

      At least she hoped she did.

      “Situations like this,” Ben explained, waving his beer for emphasis, “are why I don’t submit to her fucking blood tests.”

      Noah slanted his younger brother a look. “You know she has to be careful, Ben. In her heart, Agatha knows you’re family, but she’s stubborn and cautious.”

      “She should take my mother’s word for it.”

      “Yeah. But it would damage her pride to do that.”

      “And to hell with anyone else’s pride? Is that it?”

      Noah shrugged. “Agatha has more pride than most.”

      “Ha! She’s a—”

      “Careful.” Noah narrowed his eyes. “I’m madder than hell at her right now, too, but she’s still my grandmother, your grandmother.”

      “Not that she’ll admit it.”

      Noah ignored that to add, “Just as you’re my brother.”

      “Half brother.” Ben lifted the beer and guzzled down the remainder, then belched.

      “Whole, half, who gives a rat’s ass? You’re my brother, and regardless of any damn blood test, we both know it.”

      Grace’s heart expanded in her chest, her throat clogged with emotion. Yes, Ben was Noah’s brother, and Agatha’s grandson. It was there in the shiny black hair he shared with Noah, in the broad-shouldered physique, the olive skin tone.

      At six feet, four inches, Noah was as impressively tall as his father had been. Ben stood six feet even, but he carried himself the same, and their sexy, teasing smiles were identical.

      Only the eyes were different. Noah had pale, striking blue eyes that could be either as cold as ice or hot enough to singe your soul. Ben’s eyes were just the opposite, as black as a sinner’s and equally as wicked. He looked at women and they blushed and stammered in reaction.

      Agatha’s son had fathered two sons by two different women, and he hadn’t acknowledged either of them. Likely Agatha wouldn’t have either if her son hadn’t died, leaving her all alone with no other family. But fifteen years ago the private detective she’d hired had found Noah, and now Agatha loved him. Grace was sure of that much, even if Agatha never admitted it. Despite the current disharmony, Noah was her pride and joy.

      Though Agatha had been fully appeased by locating one grandson to fill the void in her personal and business life, the detective had also found Ben before the search could be stopped.

      From the first, when Ben had been an irreverent fourteen-year-old rascal, he and Agatha had rubbed each other the wrong way. But Grace knew that eventually Agatha would accept him. How could she not when Ben was so like Noah in the most important ways, proving he was her own flesh and blood?

      Problem was, Agatha ruled with an iron fist and often placed her pride above everything else. Ben was his own boss, refusing to submit to the whims of an old woman. Secretly, Grace enjoyed Ben’s rebellion. He infuriated Agatha, which kept her on her toes and sharp-witted.

      “We need more beer,” Noah announced, and dropped his empty bottle with a clank onto the balcony’s stone floor.

      More beer!

      “You’ll have to get it,” Ben said without moving. “I can barely feel my legs.”

      “Wimp.” Noah started to rise with a lusty groan.

      “No.” Grace stepped forward, drawing the attention of both men. They slued around in their chairs and stared at her in muddled surprise.

      “Hey,” Noah said. Then, with some confusion: “Where’d you come from?”

      “The front door wasn’t locked.”

      “It wasn’t?”

      Disapproving, Grace said, “I think you’ve both had quite enough to drink.”

      The two men shared a look, and Ben grinned. “Ah, Gracie, did someone try to drown you, sweetheart?”

      “Ha, ha.” She made a face at Ben. He was forever teasing, and usually she liked it. “No, I got caught in the rain.” Self-conscious, she pushed her hair behind her ears again. Her sweater stuck to her breasts and her back and her long skirt clung to her plump thighs, her belly. “My stupid car broke down,” she explained, while trying to make herself less noticeable.

      Noah straightened, then came to his feet with stiff-legged purpose. “Why the hell didn’t you call me? I’d have picked you up.”

      He swayed, and Grace lifted a brow. “In your condition? I do believe that’s not only dangerous but illegal.”

      He cupped her chin and leaned closer. “I’d have called a cab for you.”

      Just that simple touch on her chin and Grace’s heart was ready to pop. With a shuddering breath, she lifted herself away from him and busied herself by picking up empty bottles.

      All around them, the storm raged, spraying into the balcony every so often, lighting the early evening sky with a brilliant display of electrical energy. The thunder rolled almost continually, rattling the windows and vibrating the floor, which explained why they hadn’t heard her knock.

      “It doesn’t matter,” Grace remarked when both men continued to watch her, putting her on edge. “I’m here now.”

      She started back into the apartment, aware of them tottering along behind her. “Besides, I was in a hurry.”

      Ben propped himself up against a wall. He, too, had on jeans, now wet to the knees, and a polo shirt that fit his broad chest perfectly. His face, throat, and brawny arms were tanned, testifying to the amount of time he spent outdoors and near the pool.

      “Yeah?” he asked. “How come?”

      Distracted, Grace asked, “How come what?”

      “How come you were in such an all-fire hurry?”

      The reason for her visit flooded back to Grace and she gasped, almost dropping the bottles. Noah relieved her of several and plopped them onto the dinette table. “Grace? You okay?”

      “Ohmigod,” she said, and turned to Noah, grasping his sweatshirt with both hands, holding on to him while she stared up into his handsome face. “I almost forgot when I saw you both sitting out there, looking so cute in your drunken revelry.”

      Ben chuckled, muttering, “Cute,” under his breath, but Noah shook his head. “Quit pulling on my clothes and tell me what you forgot.”

      “Almost forgot.” Then Grace softened with emotion. “Oh, Noah. I am so, so sorry.”

      He and Ben

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