LITMIR.BIZ

      Mary had a pounding headache after spending three hours in a conference room with her grandfather’s attorney, Max Previn, and Channing. Max was a kind, older gentleman who had tried to smooth over the animosity that Channing had brought into the room, but it had been next to impossible.

      She’d explained her plans for her inheritance to the lawyer and he’d approved, with the caveat that she remember the stipulations of the will. If at any time she did anything scandalous, the money would be forfeit and she’d have to repay any amount she’d already spent. She’d put the stipulations from her mind long enough to finish the meeting and leave the office.

      Mary’s car—a late-model Mercedes sedan—was parked at the curb, and she looked at that car feeling a new loathing for this life she’d been forced into. A part of her—the wild, crazy part—wanted to say the hell with it and walk away. She resented the restrictions and the instructions on how to behave that were being dictated from the grave.

      But another bigger part of her mourned the baby she’d lost in childbirth, and she wanted to do what she could to ensure that no other woman ever had to live with that crushing feeling.

      With her thoughts in such turmoil she couldn’t get in the car and go home yet. Instead, she walked along the sidewalk in front of a row of shops until she reached her friend Emma’s art gallery. Through the front window Mary could see Emma was with a customer, so she stayed outside. Featured in the display window was her latest print series—Paris. The series was composed of four different pieces that she’d simply titled for each of the seasons.

      “Your work has really matured.”

      She glanced up at Kane, surprised to see him here. He wore a black pullover and a pair of faded jeans. His hair hung rakishly over one eye and he looked way too good. The realization stung because she didn’t want to be attracted to him anymore.

      “You think so? I still see room for improvement.”

      “The artist is never satisfied,” he said, quoting back her own words.

      Why did he remember so much of their time together? She certainly recalled those years in vivid detail, but that wasn’t surprising since she’d lived for him for so long. She’d almost refused when he’d offered to set her up as his mistress, uncomfortable with putting herself in that situation. In the end, however, the chance to be with Kane under any circumstances had stayed her.

      “What are you doing here?” she asked.

      “Waiting for you. I’m going to design a financial plan for your foundation, remember?”

      “Of course I remember. I meant, how did you find me here?”

      “I was eating lunch across the way and spotted you.”

      “Oh. For a minute I thought you’d been stalking me.”

      The droll look on his face made her feel just a little bit foolish. But her response to him underscored something for her. She realized, for her own sanity, she couldn’t allow Kane to get close enough to set up her foundation.

      “I’ve changed my mind about accepting your help.”

      “Why?”

      “Channing is going to be watching me like a hawk, trying to find some kind of chink in my new behavior so that he and his family can inherit instead of me.”

      “Darling, I’m the soul of discretion.”

      That was true, he always had been. It was her reaction to Kane that worried her more than anything he would do. That and the secrets of their shared past—both the nature of their relationship and the truth she’d kept from him.

      “You don’t understand. If they found out I was your mistress, I’d lose everything.”

      “No one knows the truth except you and I,” he said quietly.

      She turned away from the window as Emma finished up with her customer. She didn’t want her friend to see her with Kane in tow. She took a few steps away from the shop and he followed.

      He put his arm around her shoulder, drawing her close to him as he directed them across the street to a small park with a gazebo in the center. Underneath the shade of a large maple tree he stopped, leaning back against the trunk.

      “I’m sorry, Mary.”

      She was taken aback by his words. “For what?”

      “For not doing things properly when we first met.”

      She shook her head. She’d been over their relationship so many times and she knew that a big part of her had liked being Kane’s mistress. Had liked that her parents were outraged by it. She closed her eyes at how immature she’d been regardless of how sophisticated she’d felt.

      “I think there’s plenty of blame to share,” she admitted.

      He pulled her off balance and into his arms. Mary was very aware that this was her third public embrace with him and that Channing had actually witnessed the other two.

      She pushed against his chest. “Let me go.”

      “Not this time.”

      A part of her wanted a relationship with Kane. What had started as a way to outrage her parents and to rebel had turned into love on her part. And she’d never forgotten Kane. But she wasn’t ready for the roller coaster of emotions being with him would entail. Especially now with so much at stake.

      “I mean it. Let me go. If I’m seen like this, it will give them ammunition to use against me.”

      “I’ll let you go on one condition.”

      “And that is?”

      “You let me work with you to establish the trust.”

      “It would have to be strictly business. No more touching or kissing. I can’t risk it.”

      “I can’t make any promises to not touch you. But I can assure you that I will do my utmost to make sure no one else witnesses it.”

      “Then my answer will have to be no. Thanks, Kane.” She paused. “I know that this sounds weird, but it’s been really nice seeing you again.”

      She turned to walk away, but his low voice

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