“Sure, Dad,” she said, just thankful to be alive. She wasn’t happy with what he’d done and there were still some issues they had to resolve, but she’d give him another chance because she truly believed that both of her parents had thought they had her best interests at heart. She heard her father leave the room and vowed to work things out. With him. With her half-sisters. With Mason’s daughter. Somehow, she would make things work.

“So as soon as I get the doctor to spring you from here,” Mason said, interrupting her thoughts and staring down at her with his incredible gold eyes, “I’ll expect you to start making wedding plans.”

“Will you?”

“Unless you want to elope.” His smile was positively and deliciously wicked.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Just as long as you promise to be with me forever.”

“No longer?”

She laughed, and he winked at her.

“It’s a deal, Bliss Cawthorne. You and me. But only until forever.”

“Should we shake on it?” she asked, grinning, her heart so filled with happiness she thought it might burst.

“Shake on it? Hmm.” His eyes twinkled. “We could, but you know, I had something else in mind. Something more . . . intimate.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “You’re trouble, Lafferty. Big trouble.”

“I am,” he agreed. “But only with you, love. Only with you.”

A FAMILY KIND OF GAL

A FAMILY KIND OF GAL

To Mom and Dad
You are the best

Chapter One

Chapter One

So this was the place.

With a jaundiced eye, J.D. Santini studied the immense house with its apron of drying lawn and Apartment for Rent sign posted near the street where he’d parked. Gray clapboard accented with bay windows, black trim and a smattering of white gingerbread, this was where Tiffany had run.

Wonderful. Just damned great.

His gut clenched and he told himself that he wasn’t throwing her out of her home. Not really. And certainly not right away. What he was doing was for her own good. In her kids’ best interests.

Then why did he feel like Benedict Arnold?

“Hell.”

Pocketing his keys, he climbed out of his Jeep. The dry heat of southern Oregon in mid-July hit him square in the face.

Bittersweet. A fitting name for the town, he thought; as good a destination as any if a person wanted to turn tail and run. Which is what she’d done.

His jaw clenched when he thought of her. Tiffany Nesbitt Santini. Sister-in-law. Gold digger. Lover.

Damn, he hated this.

Get over it, Santini. What did you expect when you took the job with the old man? You dived headfirst into this mess and your eyes were wide-open.

He reached into the back seat of his Jeep Cherokee for his beat-up duffel bag and briefcase.

It was now or never.

Damn, but “never” sounded appealing.