The memory of his father’s disappointment would stay with him forever, not to mention the loss of his trust. Amare had only himself to blame. He’d sworn to himself he’d never make that mistake again.

  Yet here he was, in the same situation with Bree. He’d disappointed her. He’d hurt her. And considering how they’d left things between them, chances were good he’d lost her trust forever. And, once again, Amare had only himself to blame.

  Even his deal with Nassir had fallen through. He’d rejected the increased purchase price and percentage of profit. True to form, Karim had been furious and Taleb had taken it all in stride, suggesting they take bids to move the pumping station a half-mile away. The oil reserves weren’t as large, but it was better than nothing. Plus, he’d proposed, they could simply dismantle the current station and reconstruct it in a different location, saving them the cost of buying all new equipment.

  The project was now sixty percent complete, and they had two weeks of oil left in the reserve tanks. Things were finally starting to look up on the business front, but Amare wasn’t satisfied. He’d never be satisfied until he was sure Bree was safe and happy, even if that meant she was happy without him. Now he just had to think of a plan to find her.

  The answer to that question came the next day as he was reviewing the world news. A new foundation was being set up in America to help fund struggling artists like Bree’s father had been. They were taking donations, and planning to have an art auction in three weeks’ time.

  The painting. He set the paper aside and stared into the distance. Could the thing that tore them apart really be the thing that brought them back together? He still had several photos of the portrait from when it had been on display at the palace. If that painting somehow turned up as a donation to this charity, Bree would have to show up, if only to prove the painting wasn’t real.

  He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contact list, finding the number he hit redial. The call picked up on the second ring. “Collosimo Restorations.”

  “Rapheal, it’s Amare.”

  “Sheik,” Raphel said with genuine affection. “How are you?”

  “Not good.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?”

  “There is. Do you remember that painting I brought you to the house to see? The Van Ludhis we had on exhibit here a few months ago.”

  “Ah, yes. Truly lovely. You have bought it, no?”

  “No.”

  “Then I understand why you are troubled. Hard to lose something so beautiful, eh?”

  “Yes, it was.” He couldn’t care less about the painting. Bree was another matter entirely. “But you could help me with this.”

  Raphael chuckled. “You want me to steal it for you? It’s been years since my last heist, but I suppose I could dig out my—”

  “No. I don’t want you to steal it. I want you to copy it.”

  “A forgery?” Raphael hesitated. “I don’t know.”

  “I have several detailed pictures of the portrait and you are the best in the world.”

  “Yes, I know.” Rapheal was many things. Modest wasn’t one of them. “Still, it is a Van Ludhis. He was a master. And you know that portrait was the only one he ever did of this daughter.”

  “I know. You told me.” Amare pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and closed his eyes. “What will it take to get you to agree?”

  “There are many things to consider. Supplies, a secret workspace, not to mention the effort. When do you need this completed?”

  “Within three weeks.”

  “Three weeks?” A string of Italian curses followed. “It’s impossible. I have business and other obligations and—”

  “One million dollars.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You produce my forgery, I’ll pay you one million dollars.” Amare clenched his fists and took a deep breath. “I’ll even give you a bonus if you get it finished sooner.”

  “Bonus?”

  “An extra $250,000.”

  “You really want this don’t you?”

  “You have no idea.” The ache in Amare’s chest, the one that had started the day Bree left, intensified. He would do anything, pay any price, to get her back. “Do we have a deal?”

  “When do I start?”

  Chapter 9

  Bree was actually starting to think she might be happy, when her morning coffee was interrupted by a local news story blaring from the TV in front of her at the diner.

  In other events, a rare portrait, painted by the late Patrick Van Ludhis, has been included in this year’s charity auction for the new Fanning Foundation. The foundation will support struggling artists and their families. Reserves for the portrait, featuring the artist’s daughter as its subject, are set at three million dollars.

  Stunned, Bree stared at her father’s portrait splashed across the screen. It couldn’t be the painting. Her painting was locked up safe and sound in a storage unit in Montana. Unless…

  She put her coffee down so fast, it sloshed out onto her hand.

  “Ouch.” Bree brought the scalded back of her hand to her mouth and scowled.

  “You okay hon?” George asked, from across the bar.

  “Yeah.” She looked up at the TV again, but they’d moved on to the latest celebrity news. If her step-monster had somehow discovered the storage unit and stolen the paintings, she’d have to deal with the fallout. “Could I have a couple of days off?”

  George shrugged. “Sure, I guess. I’ll get Maggie to cover for you. She’s been bugging me for more hours anyway.” He turned to her with a smile and a spatula in his hand. “Got big plans?”

  “Not exactly. Family issues.”

  “I didn’t know you had any family.”

  “I don’t.”

  He gave her a confused look and she laughed.

  “Step-monster.”

  “Oh.”

  “My father passed away several months ago and made a provision in his will regarding some of his property. Expensive property. Cindy, my step-mother wants full control of it.”

  “And you don’t want her to have it.”

  “My father didn’t want her to have it. But now it seems she’s making another play for the stuff and I need to stop her.”

  “Sounds complicated.”

  “You have no idea.”

  After she’d finished her shift, she headed back to her apartment and looked up the news story online. There was a number listed for the art auction and that was the first call she made. According to the woman she talked to, there would be a reception-slash-viewing-party the evening before the actual auction where all of the bidders could meet with the donors and get more information about the pieces they wanted to purchase.

  The second call she made was to her landlord in Montana.

  “Hi, it’s Bree. Why didn’t you let me know the storage unit had been broken into?”

  “What are you talking about?” the guy asked, his tone confused.

  “The storage unit, the one I rent from you. Someone’s been in it.”

  “No one’s been in there, Bree. I was there myself earlier today and everything’s just like you left it.”

  Bree wrinkled her nose. “But if everything’s there, then…” Her voice trailed off as a new idea dawned. Amare had once spoken to her about having a forgery made. Was it possible her step-monster had had the same idea?

  “You’ve been pretty popular since you left,” her landlord said.

  “What?”

  “Right after you left, some guy came here looking for you. Big guy, military-looking, blond. Said he was working for a private client who was interested in your well-being.”

  Her pulse tripped and her chest constricted. Had Amare been looking for her? “Did he give you a name?”

  “Yeah, hang on.” A scuffle sounded across the line as if he was digging for something, then he came back on the line. “Jack Calloway. You know him?”

  Yeah, she knew him. Or had heard of him anyway. He was Amare’s good friend. “Listen, thanks for keeping an eye on the storage unit for me. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem.”

  “And hey, please call me if anyone tries to get into it or if this guy, Jack Calloway, shows up there again, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  She ended the call moments later and flopped back on her bed, her stomach knotted with a mix of apprehension and elation. Amare was looking for her. Someone had forged her father’s painting, most likely her step-monster Cindy. The viewing party was the following evening.

  Whatever the future might hold for her, she knew things had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.

  ***

  “I’ve found her,” Jack told Amare over the phone the next morning.

  “I’d be shocked if you hadn’t.” Amare shifted in his seat on the Sharqi private jet heading toward San Francisco. “She’s arrived safely at the hotel, I assume?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you seen her yet?”

  “Only briefly and from a distance. She looks tired, but I guess that’s expected considering she’s working as a waitress at a diner in northern California.”

  That was his Bree. Always industrious. His Bree. The words sounded more wonderful than he cared to admit. He missed her quirky jokes and them cooking omelets together in his kitchen, sharing his bed with her. If his plan worked, he hoped he might win her back and bring her home someday. “What about the step-mother?”

  “No sign of her. Yet.”

  “Keep an eye out. If she smells money, she’ll come running.” Amare looked out the window at the clouds below. “And I don’t want Bree to have to deal with her again. Not without me.”

  “What time do you get in?”

  “We should land in another couple of hours. By the time we leave the airport and adjusting for traffic, I’d say we should check in by six.”

  “We?”

  “My brothers will be attending the auction as well. Taleb thought it was a perfect time to get some good publicity for the company. Karim isn’t happy about having to travel back to the States, but he’s coming.”

  “Got it. I’ll make sure Jenna knows to steer clear of him.”

  “Jenna?”

  “My cousin. The wedding planner. She has everything all set up, even has several wedding gowns already set to be delivered so Bree can choose the one she wants to wear.”

  “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

  “Did we have extra time I wasn’t aware of?” Jack chuckled. “And don’t forget your tux.”

  “Tux packed. And thank you. Again. I’ll see you soon. Take care of my girl for me.”

  “Will do.”

  Amare ended the call and slumped back in his seat. In just a few hours he’d be face to face with Bree again. Face to face with the one woman in a very long time that he wanted a chance at a long-term relationship with, perhaps even marriage, if things worked out. He slid his phone back into his pocket then closed his eyes and intended to nap. He’d need all the rest he could get to orchestrate his own happily ever after.

  Chapter 10

  Bree opened the door to her hotel room to find a big, blond cowboy standing there. “Can I help you?”

  “Jack Calloway.” He tipped his hat to her and her heart plummeted to her toes.

  She leaned to the side and peeked behind him. Was Amare here too? “What do you want?”

  “May I come in?”

  “Did he send you?”

  Jack didn’t ask who ‘he’ was. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s worried about you and asked me to check on you.”

  “Tell him I’m fine.” She started to close the door on him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

  He placed his hand on the door frame, stopping her. “Amare truly cares about you or he wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to find you.”

  “No, all he cares about is his precious oil company. I’m surprised he didn’t just give my painting to Nassir when he had the chance and be done with it.” She turned and walked back into her room, not caring if Jack stayed or went. “And now she’s forged it and will try to sell the fake. Life is grand, isn’t it?”

  “Her who?” Jack asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Your step-mother?”

  “Who else?” Bree flopped down in the room’s only chair trying to get her traitorous feelings under control. The fact Jack was standing here meant that Amare hadn’t forgotten about her, that there might be a chance he even cared about her, if what Jack said was true. But there was also a chance he was only there for the painting. Again.

  She couldn’t risk her heart and her future on such perilous odds. She just couldn’t. No matter how tempting the man and the future might be.

  Jack stood near the door, his hat in his hands and his gaze wary. “His business deal with Nassir fell through, you know. Guy turned him down flat. Didn’t even really care about your dad’s picture, as it turned out. Amare and his family are moving the pumping station to land that is solely owned by the Sharqi family now.”

  “So Amare doesn’t need a deal with Nassir?” She narrowed her gaze on him.

  “He does, but he’s willing to wait until Nassir can conduct business in a proper manner. Until then, he wishes no harm or foul to come to the Adjalane family.”

  “How do you know Amare?”

  “We roomed together in college.” Jack grinned. “Don’t let the slick exterior fool you. That guy can be wild as anything.”

  Memories of their erotic night together flooded her mind and heat flooded her cheeks. “I know.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Um,” Jack checked his watch. “Right now, I’d say he’s cruising at around fifty-thousand fifty somewhere over the Pacific Ocean. He should get to the hotel around six, he said.”

  “I see.” She pushed to her feet and stalked to her closet to look at her meager clothes. “This thing is supposed to be super fancy and of course I have nothing to wear.”

  “I might be able to help with that,” Jack said, pulling out his phone and typing in a quick text. Moments later it beeped in replay and he looked up, smiling at Bree. “She’ll be here in twenty minutes.”

  “Who?”

  “My cousin, Jenna. She’s a wedding planner. Amare set it all up.”

  “Oh, really.” Bree turned on him with her hands on her hips. She’d had it with other people running her life. Now, she was in charge. “Exactly what did he set up? And why the hell would we need a wedding planner?”

  “She does other event planning too. And she knows all the top buyers in town. She’s bringing over a selection of gowns for you to choose from for tonight, along with accessories. Amare thought you might not have time to get something yourself..” Jack’s voice trailed off, his expression hesitant. “He only wanted to make you happy.”

  Much as she wished she could turn down Amare’s offer, truth was she hadn’t had a chance to get a suitable outfit. And considering all the trouble he’d caused her so far, maybe allowing him to foot the bill for her evening outfit wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

  ***

  Four hours later, she’d been primped and fluffed to within an inch of her life and had never felt more beautiful, or nervous. Somewhere in this building Amare waited for her and as much as she wanted to hate him, to freeze him out of her life and her heart, she couldn’t do it. She’d long ago accepted that her painting wasn’t the only thing Amare had stolen from her back in Al-Sarid. The painting he’d returned to her. Her heart? That he still had.

  A knock sounded and she smoothed down the long taffeta skirt of her deep sapphire colored ball gown and grabbed her tiny beaded evening bag on the way to the door. She pulled it out and smiled at Jack, who looked dapper and dashing in his tuxedo, all traces of his cowboy persona gone. He grinned. “Howdy.”

  Well, almost all of them.

  “Hi.” She did a quick spin for him. “How do I look?”

  “Gorgeous.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yeah.” She checked her diamond stud earrings and necklace then patted the back of her head to make sure her chignon was still in place, then exited and shut the door behind her. “Let’s go.”

  Her step-monster had apparently arrived too, if the fifteen voicemails she’d left on her phone was any indication. Everything from how much she’d missed her to where the hell were the rest of the paintings to she was glad Bree had finally come to her senses and decided to sell one of the paintings. If Bree hadn’t known Cindy, she’d almost have thought the woman wasn’t responsible for the forgery currently sitting downstairs just waiting for a suspecting buyer to make their bid. Too bad Bree knew her step-monster only to well. She’d deleted all of the messages without answering.

  “Are you nervous?” Jack asked as they waited for the elevator.

  “No.” Bree gave him a side glance. “Why?”

  “Don’t know.” The elevator dinged and Jack held the doors for her while she boarded then followed her inside and hit the button for the lobby. “I’d be nervous if I was seeing someone I had unfinished business with.”

  The way he’s said “unfinished business” suggested he knew more about what had happened between her and Amare than he let on, but she remained cautious. “I’m fine.”

  “Good.” The arrived in the lobby and Jack led her down a short hallway then opened an office door to reveal the man who’d been foremost in her thoughts for weeks. In his tux,

  Amare looked so handsome she could barely breathe.

  He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Bree. It’s good to see you again.”

  The rough timbre of his deeply masculine, accented voice brushed over her frayed nerves in a calming caress. God, she loved his voice.