a reflection of Walker’s personality.
Their luggage had arrived in no time, and she decided to unpack while Walker sat on the edge of his bed and watched her.
“Is there an another apartment on the other side of us?” she asked.
He nodded. “It belongs to my cousin Trace. He got the balcony.”
She looked up, shook her head. “God forbid he should get something you don’t have.”
Walker rolled his eyes. “Trace irks me.”
She reached for a hanger. “Really? How so?”
“He just does. We’ve always been at odds with each other.”
Masculine rivalry? she wondered. Or did it go deeper than that? “Have you ever tried to work things out with him? Talk about your differences?”
He barked out a cynical laugh. “Yeah, right. He’s impossible to communicate with.”
“What does he do?”
“He manages the Ashton Estate Winery.”
“How come you didn’t get into that business?”
“Because Spencer wanted me to work with him at Ashton-Lattimer Corporation. The investment banking firm.” He removed his shoes and socks and tossed them on the floor. Today he wore a charcoal suit that darkened the color of his eyes.
“Trace is Spencer’s son, right?”
“Yep. His only son with Lilah.”
“How many daughters do they have?”
“Two. Paige and Megan. Paige still lives here, and Meagan is married now.” He took off his jacket. “Can we quit yapping about my family and get cozy?” He roamed his gaze over her, lowered his voice. “I’ve missed you.”
Tamra’s skin turned warm, but she refused to give in so easily. “You’ve missed touching me. That’s not the same as missing someone. And I’m not through asking questions.”
He made a goofy expression, then pretended to hang himself with his tie. She bit her lip to keep from laughing. “That’s not going to charm me into bed,” she told him, even though she wanted to tackle him, to kiss him, to let his sexual frustration consume her.
“Then hurry up and finish this interview. I’ve got a woman to seduce.”
“Fair enough.” She hung her best dress, black cotton with satin trim, in his closet. “What’s the deal with Irena?”
“She’s the head housekeeper. I already told you that.”
“Why were you so rude to her?”
“I wasn’t rude.”
“The hell you weren’t.”
“Okay. Fine. Irena is a traitor. She’s been with us since I was a kid and she let her daughter—who also used to work here, I might add—get engaged to the enemy.”
“The enemy?” The Ashton Estate was beginning to sound like the setting for a soap opera. Days of Our Disgruntled Lives. “Who on earth are you talking about?”
“Eli Ashton. The SOB who threw a fit about Spencer’s will and the Ashton-Lattimer stocks I inherited.”
Money, she thought. The root of all evil. Only in this case, she didn’t know if Eli was the evil party or if Walker fit the bill. “How is Eli related to your uncle?”
“He’s one of Spencer’s kids with Caroline Lattimer, a former wife. The other Ashton family.” He walked over to a mini bar in the corner and poured himself a shot of tequila, the first time Tamra had seen him drink. “They have a boutique winery about twenty-five miles from here. But that’s not enough for Eli. He’ll probably try to steal the Ashton-Lattimer stocks away from me.”
“Did Spencer leave Caroline’s children anything in the will?”
“Nope.”
“And you don’t think that’s wrong?”
“It’s not my place to judge my uncle’s decision. Besides, Eli is only making a fuss because his grandfather on his mother’s side founded the investment banking business.”
“But Spencer ended up with it?”
“Caroline’s father left it to him. Of course that was before Spencer divorced her. Then again, it doesn’t really matter because their marriage was never legal. Spencer had a wife in Nebraska a long time ago, but he never divorced her.”
Tamra could only stare. Her head was twirling like a top. “And what was her name?”
“Sally. He has grown kids with her, too. Oh, and there’s a little boy Spencer fathered two years ago.”
“He cheated on Lilah?”
“As far as I know, he cheated on all of his wives. Lilah was one of his mistresses before he married her. She was his secretary. The old make-out-in-the-office routine.”
“And this is the man you admired?”
Walker gave her a disturbed stare. “He treated me better than he treated everyone else. What am supposed to do? Hate him for that?”
“No, but you shouldn’t be rude to Irena because her daughter is engaged to Eli.”
“We’re back to that?”
“That’s right, we are. Did you really expect Irena to stop her daughter from falling in love?” She paused, looked at him, felt her heart pick up speed. “Love isn’t something a person can control. Not a parent, not a child, not a man or a woman.”
He frowned, squinted, left his empty shot glass on the bar. “What if Eli contests the will?”
“Then he contests it. That doesn’t have anything to do with Irena. You owe her an apology, Walker.”
“Listen to you. The voice of compassion.” He sat on the edge of the bed again. “But you’re right, I do. I’ll apologize to her tonight, sometime before dinner. After all, she can’t help it if her daughter fell for a selfish jerk.”
Tamra doubted that Eli was the money grubber Walker was making him out to be. She suspected there was more to the story, and Irena had supported her daughter’s decision for all the right reasons. “Good parents try to make their children happy.”
“You’re talking about Irena, right?”
She gave him a solemn nod. She certainly wasn’t referring to Spencer.
Walker gazed out a second-story window, and she followed his line of sight. She couldn’t see the view from her perspective, but she suspected he was gazing at his family’s vineyards, the way he’d studied Mary’s land allotment while he’d been on the rez.
Was he comparing the Napa Valley wine country to the South Dakota plains?
“My mom wants me to be happy,” he said.
“Yes, she does. Mary loves you very much.”
“I know. I can feel her affection.” He turned away from the window. “But I don’t understand it. She barely knows me.”
Tamra walked away from the closet, taking a seat next to him on the bed. “Most mothers have a special bond with their children. I never knew my baby at all. But I loved her.” She placed her hand on his knee, recalling the day she’d buried Jade. “She’ll always be in my heart.”
He touched her face, running his knuckles along her jaw. A masculine caress, a man-to-woman need. “I wish it was that easy for me. That I could love Mary the way she loves me.”
“You will. Someday you will.”
She put her head on his shoulder, and he held her so tight she could hardly breathe. But she didn’t