Then he released her.

She stared up at him, her lips parted as she drew in much-needed air. She felt the weight of the pin in her pocket where he’d slipped it.

He looked cocky as ever, his grin lopsided. “And wear the pin. It looks good on you.”

* * *

Stepping out of Annabelle’s building, Jared walked across Main Street so he could take a look at the entire building.

Built from square-cut stone blocks, the two-story structure looked like a box, but its clean lines, large windows, and oak-plank door spoke of another time. A cornerstone on the front proclaimed the year 1829. Good, strong bones. Like many of the other buildings in the town.

Mayberry couldn’t hold a candle to Adamstown. He looked first left then right up Main Street. He didn’t see a car coming either way. Way too quiet for a born-and-bred Philadelphia boy.

The town probably rolled up its sidewalks by nine o’clock. Shaking his head, he started walking east on Main. He’d driven in from the west and hadn’t seen much more than houses. The rest of Main Street, all ten blocks of it, contained two small factories—Goods Potato Chips and the Bollman Hat Factory. Each looked like they’d been entrenched for years.

Annabelle’s was the only antiques store on Main and not visible from Route 272, which bypassed the town. Most of the antique stores that were this area’s claim to fame sat along that road. She did have a sign on the main highway, but it wasn’t large. He wondered what kind of advertising she did to keep the business going.

Or maybe she didn’t need to. Maybe…

Maybe he was crazy for thinking what he was thinking.

He knew Peter and Catrina O’Malley and their lover, Danton Romero, had been killed by an unstable woman with a fixation on Danton. He knew Peter and Catrina had left behind a daughter who’d been in her teens at the time.

And he knew that Annabelle Elder owned three O’Malley paintings, one not even known to exist.

Bypassing his car parked along the street, Jared decided to take a walk. Clear his head.

He’d love to add those paintings to his collection. He wanted them almost as much as he wanted her.

Other than Annabelle’s shop, the town boasted two churches—beautiful brick buildings with stained-glass windows—a VFW, a beauty salon, a tailor, a café, and less than a hundred private residences. Not two blocks from Annabelle’s was a small inn.

The Horse-and-Carriage Inn had Victorian gingerbread trim and about four different paint colors. In the summer, the grounds and building would be shaded by mature trees. The gardener had an eye for landscaping and there was enough winter interest in the surrounding gardens to avoid appearing barren.

Not what he was used to but it certainly ranked above the motel he’d seen on the drive in.

He headed back to his car for his cell phone to make a reservation.

And give Dane another call.

* * *

“Annabelle! Annabelle, are you here? Do you know who I just saw walking down the sidewalk?”

Kate’s voice rang out from the shop, forcing Annabelle out of the stupor she’d fallen into. “Up here,” she called.

In seconds, Kate bounded up the stairs, her eyes wide and shock plainly written on her face. “You are never going to believe—”

“Jared’s in town. I know. Wine?”

Kate froze, then sank into the chair Jared had occupied not that long ago. “Did you know he was coming? What’s he doing here?”

Annabelle poured herself another glass. “No, I didn’t know he was coming but he had impeccable timing. Showed up just in time to screw up my interview with Carmen Moran.”

Kate’s eyes widened even further. “Oh, jeez, I completely forget about that. How’d it go?”

Annabelle just shook her head.

“Oh, wow.” Kate grimaced. “What happened?”

After another healthy swallow of wine, she spilled the whole sordid story, cringing as she thought about what she must have looked like, just fucked and probably smelling like sex.

“I’m screwed,” she muttered. “You know that, right? Carmen Moran will never talk to me again.”

“Please.” Kate rolled her eyes. “Who cares what that old biddy thinks, anyway? You’re doing just fine on your own. What are you going to do about Jared?”

Annabelle frowned at her best friend. “Are you kidding? I’m not doing anything about him. There’s no way I’m going to dinner with him.” She shook her head. “Jesus, Kate. He saw the paintings in the hall. What if he figures out who I am?”

Kate waved that comment off. “Why would he even think that some random antiques dealer might be the daughter of a famous painter because she has a few paintings by the guy? You’re a collector.”

“Because he’s smart as hell. He’s going to realize the portrait of my mom is something he’s never seen mentioned. Not ever. He’s going to want to know where I got it.” Annabelle wanted to tear out her hair. “Hell, he’s going to want to buy it and I’m going to have to tell him no. Jesus, everything’s messed up. The man is a complete menace. I can’t believe I fell for his act. Again.”

“Alright, Annabelle.” Kate’s voice had the same tone she took with naughty children and dirty old men. “Take a deep breath. You’ve got to snap out of this. This is not the end of the world. He’s not going to figure it out.”

“God, I wish I could believe that.”

“Okay, so what if he found out? Would that be the end of the world?”

Icy fear coated her veins as she remembered back to just after her parents’ murders. “I couldn’t go through that again. The gossip, everyone talking about them like they were deviants. It was hell the first time.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Kate reached across the table to grab her hand. “I can’t imagine how awful that was. But Jared is not a tabloid reporter.”

“No, he might be worse. He’s a collector.”

Kate’s eyes rolled again. “How is that worse?”

Because what if he figures it out and only wants me because of who I am?

Annabelle didn’t say that aloud. She barely wanted to think it. Because like it or not, she had feelings for the man.

“Annabelle? When is Jared coming back?”

“Seven. But there’s no way I’m going out with him. How can you even suggest that? After everything that’s happened?”

Kate’s expression softened. “Are you really saying you don’t want to see him again? And tell the truth.”

Of course I want to see him again.

She bit back her immediate response, shaking her head. God damn it, it just wasn’t fair.

The truth was her heart beat a little faster and her panties got wet each time she thought about him. And she’d been thinking about him a lot.

So not fair.

Sighing, she threw her hands in the air. “Of course I want to see him again. The man makes me hot. But everything’s already so messed up. When I’m with him, I don’t think straight. And that’s not good. He’s a playboy. I don’t want a man like that.”

“So what do you want?”

She opened her mouth to answer and closed it just as fast because she didn’t have a quick answer. “I don’t want a guy at all.”

“Right.” Kate smirked. “If you weren’t looking for a man, why did we go to a party so you could meet one?”

“That was just sex.”

Kate was getting pretty good at that eye roll, Annabelle noticed.

“So what’s stopping you from having ‘just sex’ with Jared while he’s here? It’s not like the man offered to marry you. And it’s not like you want him to. But why not take what pleasure you can while you can?”

Logically, she knew that. Emotionally…Hell, emotionally, she was a mess. She wanted him. She didn’t want to want him. She was angry with him. She was so damn happy to see him. She never wanted to see him again.

When she didn’t say anything, Kate huffed. “You never did tell me why he was here in the first place. Did he come to apologize? What?”

“His grandmother insisted he return the pin. But I can’t take it. It…” She shook her head.

“Reminds you of Jared?” Kate prompted.

“Yes, and I don’t ne—want any reminders of him.”

“But you want him?”

Of course I do. “No, it’s a recipe for disaster.”

“It doesn’t have to be. Just be sure you set the rules. The man wants you bad. He could have just given you the pin and left again but he couldn’t resist you.”

Kate made it sound so simple. And so easy. Still, the more she thought about it, the more she wanted him. Even with the risks…

“Don’t think so hard, Annabelle. The man wants you. You want him. Just make him suffer before you let him rip off your clothes.”

“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I want him to crawl on the floor and beg me for it.”

Kate’s smile would have made a grown man run for his mother. “Then let’s see what you’re going to wear tonight.”

* * *

“What do you mean, you’re not coming back right away? What the hell are you up to, Jed?”

“I’m not up to anything. I’ve just decided to stay a few more days. Miss me already, big brother?”

Tyler’s derisive snort came through the cell clearly. “Yeah, right. I know you. There’s no way you just decided to take a few days away from Philadelphia to spend it in some one-stoplight town.”

“I’m not sure there’s even one stoplight in town, as a matter of fact.”

“All the more reason for you to come running home. What are you really doing? I assume you talked to Annabelle.”

“Yes, I talked to Annabelle.”

“And?”

And we had mind-blowing sex and I have this crazy idea that she might be the long-lost daughter of a famous dead painter. “I gave her the pin.”