LITMIR.BIZ

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      “I guess Blake’s tired of listening to me,” Tiffany said.

      “Never mind Blake.” Blair smiled at her beautiful cousin, who had pale blond hair and green eyes. As a young teen, she used to envy Tiffany’s hair because she’d heard that blondes had more fun. But now she was satisfied with her darker coloring.

      “How’re you doing?” Blair asked sympathetically, giving her cousin another hug.

      “Terrible,” Tiffany admitted, swirling wine around in her glass. “But I’m sure Blake’s already told you that. You two used to tell each other everything, and I’m sure that hasn’t changed.”

      “A little,” Blair had to confess, and noticed that Blake kept looking toward the hallway leading to her father’s study. Was he nervous about seeing their dad? Their father was obviously holed up in the study with his cronies.

      “But I’m feeling much better since I met that gorgeous hunk your father invited,” Tiffany said, smoothing a hand over her slim hips. “Oh, yes, I’m feeling much better.”

      “For heaven’s sake, Tiff,” Natalie spoke up. “Remember your manners.” Natalie’s dark hair was now almost completely gray, but her blue eyes were as vivid as ever. Blair had always been told that she resembled her father’s sister, and she knew she had the Logan hair and eyes, but she had her mother’s dainty features.

      “Mother, I’m entitled to some fun,” Tiffany reminded her.

      “Just be careful. This man’s a complete stranger and we know nothing about him.”

      Voices in the hall put an end to the conversation. Blair wondered who Tiffany was talking about. All the men gathered in her father’s study were married. Had he invited someone else? Her mother hadn’t said.

      “Remember your promise,” Ava whispered as the men entered the living room.

      Blair’s eyes swung from her father, to Derek Johnson, to Frank Mann, to Theo Barker, to Uncle Calvin—and settled on the sixth man. He was dressed stylishly in a dark brown suit, light brown shirt and darker tie. He was smiling devilishly at her, and everything in Blair exploded with a rage she hadn’t felt in a long time. How dare he! How dare he come into her home! What was Lucas Culver doing here?

      She hadn’t even realized she’d spoken the words aloud until her father put an arm around her shoulder and answered, “I invited him, sweetie.”

      “You invited him?” Blair repeated in an incredulous tone. “You invited Lucas Culver to dinner?”

      Blair’s reaction didn’t surprise Lucas. He’d expected it. He not only saw her anger, he felt it. There was pure fire coming from those beautiful blue eyes and it was aimed directly at him. He’d seen Blair out of her element earlier, but this Blair was completely different. She was woman—all woman—from the dark hair hanging around her shoulders to the high heels. Her blue dress magnified her eyes and clung to her curves—curves that drew his eyes like a magnet.

      He’d always considered Blair a petite person, but her legs were long and shapely and had his full attention. He was losing it, he told himself. The woman was furious at him, and he was mentally undressing her. Yep, he was losing it.

      “Now, Blair, be reasonable,” Sam was imploring.

      “Reasonable?” Blair pushed out of his arms and stared at her mother. “You knew,” she cried, then pinned her gaze on Blake. “And so did you.”

      Ava and Blake had the grace to look ashamed, but it didn’t mollify Blair in the least. “No one thought to tell me. No one considered my feelings.”

      “Blair, darling, don’t make a scene,” her mother begged.

      “Okay, Mother,” Blair snapped. “I’ll leave, so you can get on with your party.” Having said that, she turned and stormed out of the room.

      Voices followed her. “Jeez, what’s got her so riled up?” Tiffany said.

      “I told you, Sam. I told you,” her mother declared.

      Blake caught her in the kitchen. “Sis, don’t leave, please.”

      “Why is my kitchen all of a sudden Grand Central Station?” Greta asked, putting the finishing touches on spinach salads.

      “We’ll be out of your way in a sec,” Blake told her.

      “Elsa and I will be in the dining room,” Greta said as she and the maid loaded salads onto a tray. “So talk all you want.”

      When they left, Blake pleaded, “Try to understand.”

      “All I understand is that you let me walk in there without any warning,” she said angrily. “In the old days you’d never have done that to me.”

      “Blair, it was a business meeting—an important business meeting. And frankly, we didn’t know how to tell you. You have such a short fuse these days.”

      “Now it’s my fault,” she choked out, taking a long breath. “I hadn’t even realized it, but I came here tonight hoping Dad was going to say, ‘Great job, Blair. I’m proud of you.’ Instead, he invites Lucas to dinner. That’s like a slap in my face.”

      “I’m sure it wasn’t intended that way,” Lucas said from the doorway. He knew he was taking his life in his hands, but somehow he had to make this right.

      Blair quickly turned around, unable to look at Lucas. She didn’t want to talk to him—not now, not ever.

      “Mr. Culver, I don’t think this—”

      Lucas stopped him. “It’s all right, Blake. I just want to explain.” Lucas motioned for Blake to leave the room.

      Blake hesitated.

      Blair couldn’t see him, but she knew from Blake’s silence that he was deciding whether or not to leave. Don’t you dare, she was thinking, but the sound of his receding footsteps told her that hope was in vain.

      “I’m sorry if my presence upsets you,” Lucas started, wishing he could ease her hurt, which surprised him since this was business and he shouldn’t care about her feelings. But he did.

      Blair counted to ten and turned around again, staring down at her hands instead of at Lucas. “I find that hard to believe,” she said sarcastically.

      Lucas noticed she wasn’t looking at him and realized he had some apologizing to do. He’d embarrassed her in her office today, and it was clearly still on her mind.

      “Well, I am,” he told her. “And I’m also sorry for not knocking on your door today. As you said, common courtesy dictates that I should have.”

      Common courtesy and Lucas Culver. The thought made her want to laugh. Courtesy had nothing to do with Lucas. He’d been through so many women he should be in The Guinness Book of Records. She frowned; why was she thinking that? This wasn’t about Lucas and his women; it had to do with respect and dignity, and everyone in her family was conspiring to deprive her of those—even Lucas, with whom she had no personal relationship. But his voice sounded sincere and she was so tired after this horrendous day and she just wanted to go home.

      Slowly she raised her eyes. Lucas could see that the storm in their blue depths had calmed.

      “What are you doing here?” she asked point-blank.

      “Your father invited me.”

      “Why?”

      “He’s offered me a position in his firm and he wanted me to meet his associates.”

      “What?” She blinked in confusion. “Let me get this straight. I beat you in court so my father offers you a job.”

      “The offer didn’t have anything to do with the trial.”

      “Really?” She raised a dark eyebrow. “I have a habit of forgetting that my life is

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