Diana Hamilton Pisano stood in the doorway of the library at Raven’s Nest and looked at the people scattered throughout the room. Some were close to the front waiting for the lawyer to tell them what was in John Pisano’s will.
John had passed away a year ago, and still there were times she found it hard to believe he was gone. He’d died peacefully in his sleep without fanfare, just like he lived his life. He always hated pretentiousness and couldn’t abide people who fawned over him.
She wasn’t surprised at how many people were gathered in the room. Practically everyone in attendance was there because of one thing: the expectation of money. A slight, ironic smile graced her lips; everyone had a little greed, even the most humble person.
People who attend a funeral are usually ones who cared about the deceased, but the reading of a will brings out the vultures.
Her sister-in-law, Crispina Pisano Montgomery, who wore her Italian heritage and wealth with regal pride, was talking in hushed tones to a Pisano cousin. As usual, she was dressed impeccably in the latest designer suit. Her dyed jet black hair was coiffed in a beautiful style that should’ve softened her face and eyes, but didn’t. She always hated the fact that her only brother—and heir to the mass Pisano fortune—took an African-American woman to be his wife. On the outside, Crispina looked perfect. But in reality, she was a cold-hearted woman with a viper’s tongue. Diana should know; she’d been on the receiving end one time too many during her marriage to John. Crispina hated her, and the feeling was mutual.
She grasped her small son’s hand, straightened her spine, forced the muscles in her face to relax, and turned to the waiting flock. She took a deep breath and moved forward. They were waiting for their meal, and she was the main course.
All eyes were on her as she walked toward the empty chairs at the front of the room. She felt the burn of their stares but she refused to stumble. Once seated, she exhaled, releasing the tension in her shoulders.
Martin Smythe, her husband’s long-time lawyer and friend, was seated at the long mahogany desk facing her. It was John’s favorite piece of furniture in the mansion. His great-grandfather had brought it over from Italy when he came to America with his young bride.
The lawyer cleared his throat and started the proceedings. Halfway through his reading, he stopped and stared at her in surprise. Diana blinked, realizing she had cried out in distress. She took a deep breath to try to stop the tears that flowed unhindered down her cheeks. Through her tears, she saw Martin standing in front of her holding out a handkerchief. She took it and he waited while she composed herself. Diana knew she’d made a tactical error; emotion displayed in public wasn’t something a Pisano would ever do. During her marriage to John, she’d learned not to let her emotions show no matter the pain or fear she felt on the inside. She was a young black woman who’d married an aristocratic billionaire, who happened not only to be white, but forty years older than she was. She’d endured a lot.
“Would you like a drink of water?” the lawyer said.
“No, I’m fine, please continue.”
Martin Smythe gave Diana a smile, resumed his seat, then looked at Crispina over the rim of his glasses and frowned. “To my beloved sister, Crispina, who has everything, I don’t leave money because she doesn’t need it.” Crispina hissed an angry snort. “However, I leave to her something she has always wanted and coveted all our adult lives…my collection of ancient coins.” Crispina gasped with pleasure.
“To Nicodemo John Pisano, the sweetest little dynamo I’ve ever encountered, I leave a trust fund of five million dollars. I also leave him ten percent of the Pisano Bank shares. The executor of my estate will hold the proxy for these shares and administer his trust fund until Nicky’s twenty-fifth birthday. A separate fund has been established for all of his living and educational expenses.”
“Now for my lovely and beautiful wife…”
There was a sound as the library door opened slowly. Diana didn’t turn to see who’d come in. She pulled Nicky close. He squirmed, trying to loosen her hold. She relaxed her grip and let him lean back in his chair.
The lawyer continued, “Diana, you’ve been my sun during the day and light at night. Because of you, I was a better person. You and Nicky brought me more joy than I could’ve ever imagined. I often wondered how an old crusty bachelor like me could get so lucky. I know how much you love Raven’s Nest, so I’m leaving you half ownership of the mansion.”
Martin paused a moment and cleared his throat. “Now for everything else. The entire investment portfolio, controlling interest of Pisano Bank and Pisano Industries, my seat as chairman of both corporations and—” Martin stopped abruptly and took a deep breath before he continued, “fifty percent of Raven’s Nest goes to my nephew, Trace Randall Montgomery.” A loud gasp went out in the room.
Diana stood up and screamed, “No!”
“Yes!” Crispina’s voice echoed through the room.
“Mrs. Pisano, please sit down so I may continue,” the lawyer said.
Shaking, Diana sat down. Shock and slow anger vibrated through her. Why would John do this to her?
Martin continued reading. “Diana, I know you’ll be very angry with me, but know I did this for you. You’ve no need to worry; you’ll be taken care of. As the executor of my estate, I have complete trust Trace will take care of you and Nicky. I want you to be happy, and this is the only way you can achieve true and complete happiness. All my love, John.”
Martin took off his glasses and placed them upon the papers. He folded his hands on the desk in front of him and looked around the room before bringing his eyes back to Diana. “Although he did leave a personal letter to be read by Trace Montgomery only, this was the last will and testament of John Nicodemo Pisano. He was of sound body and mind when he asked me to prepare the will.” His eyes traveled to the back of the room. “Some of you may not understand what John did, but he had his reasons.” There was silence as Martin spoke to the people gathered. “The will can’t be contested. If you try to do so, Raven’s Nest will be liquidated and all the proceeds will go to charity.”
Diana sat numb with disbelief. Her husband had left her without a penny. Crispina must be enjoying this. How many other people in the room were smirking at her ill fortune? She squared her shoulders and refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her defeated.
“Mrs. Pisano?” Luca, Nicky’s nanny, stood at her elbow. “It’s time for Master Nicky’s nap. It’s been a long day for him,” she said softly.
Diana forced a smile at Luca. In the chair beside her Nicky was asleep, leaning against her arm. She stroked his face and gently woke him. Her heart contracted with the fierce protectiveness she felt for her son. He was such a beautiful little boy. A small catch formed in her chest as he trained his eyes on her. Nicky’s small, light brown face had a few remnants of baby fat that would eventually disappear, as he grew older. Each day he reminded her more of his father, the same sleepy-eyed look and the slight dimple in his cheeks when he smiled brought memories of a happy time in her life. Shaking her head to clear her mind, she hugged him close and then let him go. She didn’t want Nicky to feel her stress. He was a very bright and intuitive four-year-old.
“I don’t wanna sleep.” He rubbed his eyes. Diana bent toward him and whispered, “If you go with Luca and take a nap, I promise you a big surprise when you wake up.”
Nicky hated to nap but loved surprises. It was summertime. Diana’s parents were picking him up in a few days to spend time with them. They felt it was good for Nicky to be around his cousins and be a normal little boy. Diana agreed. He needed to learn to value and respect the simple life. There was more to life than living in luxury. Diana grimaced. Her mind went back to another man who thought money could buy him anything. Closing her eyes, she cleared her mind, not wanting to think about him, nor that period in her life.
“Okay,” Nicky said as he rubbed his eyes again. Diana smoothed his curly mop and engulfed him in a hug. His small arms reached up and around her neck. A rush of emotion filled her, and she hugged him tight.
“Tight, Mommy!” Nicky cried and Diana let go. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Mommy didn’t mean to hug you so hard.” Sighing, she kissed the top of his head as he scrambled out of the chair and grasped Luca’s hand. Diana stood and watched them walk out the side door of the library with a feeling of unease.
A chill suddenly ran through her, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention. Diana turned around to scan the room to see what had caused the sensations. Her gaze connected with a pair of piercing blue eyes. She felt the color drain from her face and she froze in her spot. She quickly turned to see if the side door to the library was closed. It was. She sighed with relief. The library was huge and could easily hold a hundred people comfortably. She was in the far corner at the front of the room. No one watching could see her clearly, unless she was facing the person. Thank God she wasn’t.
Trace Montgomery, a man she thought—or rather hoped—she would never see again stared unflinching at her. A gamut of emotions ran through her, making her weak. She prayed her legs wouldn’t give out from under her. Pulling from strength she didn’t know she had, Diana refused to look away. Trace was one of the most eligible bachelors in the world, relentlessly pursued by hopeful women. A man of strength, high intelligence, and power, hard, tough, and of little patience, he brushed aside people who had the audacity to approach him without permission.
His arresting, wide-set dark blue eyes projected the hardness of a man who took what he wanted without question. Jet black hair, inherited from his Italian ancestors and rumored gypsy blood, was smooth and layered around his head. He wore an elegant black suit, a crisp white shirt, and a dark tie. A tall man with broad shoulders, his body was muscular but lean, and he walked with a natural, languid grace. His thirty-eight years looked good on him. He was arrogant, ruthless, and charming. Women wanted to consume him and men wanted to dissect his brilliant brain. Everyone, male and female, recognized the cosmic energy and power he projected upon entering a room. He was seemingly unaware of the speculative interest in his tall, broad frame. She stood motionless as he moved toward her.
* * *
Trace Montgomery straightened, moved away from the wall, and strolled toward the woman he had been watching intently for the last hour. His gaze slid over the tailored blouse that hugged her breasts and the black straight-leg slacks clinging to her hips. With a choker of white pearls around her slim neck and matching pearl earrings, she’d never looked more feminine and beautiful than she did right now. Only Diana could pull off wearing bright red toe polish at such a somber occasion. He stared at the smooth cinnamon skin of her face. Time was not her enemy. She was unbelievably gorgeous and still managed to capture his attention and hold it, even after all these years. It angered Trace she still had an effect on him. He hadn’t been prepared for the instantaneous avalanche of emotion and uncertainty he was experiencing. Although he was careful to betray nothing, he felt everything inside him tighten. Something hot and fierce gripped his body and, for a moment, his mind took him to a time when he and Diana had explored a hidden cave. The sound of the waterfalls echoed against the entrance as she frolicked in the water. The day had been magical, ending with them making love for the first time. He grabbed hold of his runaway thoughts. He needed to focus.
The proud tilt of his head, the cynical glint in his eyes, was sufficient to keep the other people in the room at a respectful distance. He ignored their stares, knowing they were wondering about the prodigal heir who’d returned home after a five-year absence.
“Hello, Diana.” Trace gave an arrogant inclination of his head. “It’s been a long time.”
“Hello, Trace,” she said in a calm and clear voice.
He smiled slightly at her apparent calmness. Her lovely face was devoid of expression.
Diana moistened her lips. “What brought you back, Trace?” she asked.
“A lot of things,” he said in deep, cultured tones.
“You didn’t attend John’s funeral.”
“No.” He moved closer. She stepped back. He liked the fact that she wasn’t as calm as she appeared. “You’ve grown more beautiful, Diana.” His voice dropped low as his eyes traveled slowly down her body. He wanted to make her uncomfortable. Up close, her skin was like fudge, smooth and delectable. Her hair flowed across her shoulders like dark coals of fire, vibrant and lustrous. He knew from experience how soft it felt against his skin. Her full lips were bathed in a shade of lipstick that gave an added light sheen to her lips and made him remember how it felt to kiss her. How he’d missed her. His body hardened and he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Damn. He needed to stop. He was here for one reason, and it wasn’t that.
“You could make it for the reading of the will but you couldn’t make the funeral?” she said with irony. “But you always did find the time for what you felt was important to you.”
His mouth tightened. It was because of her he’d stayed away. “We need to talk.”
“Why?”
He cupped her elbow. “It’s important.”
Surprise flashed in her eyes, but was quickly quelled. “I can’t think of any reason you would need to talk to me.”
“Let’s go into the study,” he said. She pulled slightly away from his touch. He followed her down the long hall to the study. At the door, he allowed her to turn the knob, noticing the slight tremor of her hand. Trace followed her through the door, taking in the contemporary decor and plush carpet. “You changed the room,” he said as he closed the door.
Diana walked to the large window and stood with her back to the manicured grounds and the mesmerizing view of the Smoky Mountains.
“Yes, I did.” She crossed her arms, her face closed. “You can forgo the small talk.”
She was still the same in that regard, no nonsense. Diana never did like beating around the bush. She’d always been a bit reserved, a mixture of fire and ice. He had loved that about her. He inclined his head at the long floral sofa in front of her. “Why don’t you sit down?”
“I would rather stand,” she said.
Trace knew she wasn’t going to like what he had to say. There was no easy way to say it. “The year before John died he visited me in London.” He watched surprise flash across her face.
“Why?”
“He was starting the process of passing the reins of the company to me. Because the bank is a privately held company, it’s in the bylaws that the chairmanship must pass to a male descendant of my grandfather, meaning me. What surprised me was the division of Raven’s Nest. I thought for sure he would leave it to your son.”
“It surprised me as well. Besides business, I didn’t know you and John communicated personally.”
“Even though you were married to him, Diana, he was still my uncle,” he snapped.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply—”
“You meant to imply exactly that, Diana. My relationship with John was civil, though the bond we once shared when I was a small boy was severed.”
She winced. “I didn’t—”
“Drop it, Diana. I didn’t come here to relive what is dead.”
“Then why did you come, Trace? John left you everything. I’m sure Martin could have sent you John’s instructions for the estate and the companies.”
“Martin informed me last week that it was imperative I attend the will reading.”
“Martin and John apparently knew what would get you to return to Raven’s Nest.”
“Believe what you will.” Trace paused, wanting to say more but deciding against it. He took a deep breath, hoping to give her time to adjust to the news. “I thought it was important you know what John wanted, but if you—”
“As usual, everything stands still until the great Trace Montgomery sees fit to make an appearance.”
“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Diana,” he said drily.
“Oh, really, and how do you know what becomes me? You haven’t seen me in more than five years; you have no idea who I am.”
“You’re right, I don’t. When I last saw you, you were a woman I thought I could completely trust. You were my lover, my best friend, and the woman I lo—” He pinched the end of his nose, took a deep breath, and placed his hands on his hips. “There’s no need to beat a dead horse.”
“You’re right. It’s the past. There’s no need to dredge it up.”
Running his hand wearily over his face, he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t bring you in here for that.”
“Then why did you?”
“Raven’s Nest is now jointly owned by you and me. What you don’t know is that for it to be legally ours, you and I must live in the mansion for two months…together.” He saw the blood leave her face. A small moan escaped from her throat, and she couldn’t hide the shock in her eyes.
“Oh, God,” she murmured, and finally sank onto the sofa. “I can’t live here with you!” Diana was visibly shaking. There was more to it than just living in the house with him.
“What are you afraid of?” Trace asked.
Diana blinked. “What?”
“The mansion has thirty-five rooms. I’m sure we can stay out of each other’s way for two months.”
Hands clasped tightly together, she looked at him. “It’s not that.”
“Look, Diana, if you are worried I might make some sort of advance toward you, forget it. You have nothing to worry about on that score. I’m not interested. Whatever we had died on the day you married my uncle.”
A choking sound escaped. “Leave John out of this.”
“How can he be left out? His death and his will are what brought us together today.” He observed her ashen face. “You never did like to talk about unpleasant matters.”
She jumped up from the sofa. “I’m not going to discuss John with you.”
He had never seen this side of Diana. She was even more beautiful when she was angry. Hating himself, he tried to rein his thoughts in. Now was not the time to rehash a dead relationship. But he couldn’t seem to stop.
Anger and his past hurt controlled him. “You were the one who left me and married my uncle within weeks of ending our relationship. That’s something I’ll never forgive.”
“Did you ever think I might have a few things I can’t forgive, either?”
He studied her for a long moment. “Such as?”
A tired look suddenly entered her eyes. “It doesn’t matter any longer. It’s all in the past.”
He heard the resolve in her voice. He wouldn’t let himself soften toward her. The anger simmered. She’d hurt him deeper than anyone in his life. His mother’s indifference and desertion didn’t compare to Diana’s betrayal. It had cut to the core of his being and left him wounded. For the first time in his life, he’d doubted himself. She wouldn’t get the chance to do it again. He would spend the required two months in the house and then leave. With steel in his voice, he said, “You’re right. It’s the past and it’s dead. Again, I apologize.”
Her gaze dropped from his, and she smoothed her palms on the front of her slacks. “Trace, it’s been a long time since we have seen each other.” She took a deep breath and continued, “Five years ago, I made a decision to marry John. I never regretted it.”
Trace released his breath in a slow hiss. Her declaration caused a slight ache in his chest and made him realize that she still had the power to make him feel things that were alien and uncomfortable. He’d allowed her to get under his skin in a way that no other woman had ever done before or since. It made him feel angry and out of control. He’d wanted to spend his life with Diana, but she had left him and married his uncle before he could make the mistake of asking her to marry him. The wound to his heart and pride still festered like an open sore.
“You made your choice.” It was time to end the walk down memory lane before fury consumed his mind. Diana had walked away from him and left him devastated. He never told anyone of the gut-wrenching pain he felt when she married his uncle. Never would she get the chance to do it again.
“Yes, I did.”
“I won’t question your motives, but you must’ve loved him at least enough to marry him,” Trace said roughly. Even though he knew it sounded cold and distant, his voice harsh and angry, he didn’t want to soften it. Why did she leave him? The question resonated through his mind but he didn’t ask the question…afraid of what the answer would be.
“Trace, I don’t want to live with you. There must be another way.” She wrapped her arms tightly around her midriff.
“I don’t want to live with you, either, but John had an ironclad will drawn up.”
“I don’t believe you.” Her voice grew desperate. “Montgomery Enterprises and Pisano Industries have tons of lawyers on the payroll; there must be a way around it.”
“It was examined thoroughly. It’s ironclad.” Trace moved closer. “Diana, Raven’s Nest is a landmark mansion. It’s been in my family for many decades. A registered historical site, it’s been a part of Asheville’s history for over a hundred years. I practically grew up here. I’ll not see it go to charity because you’re too damn immature to spend two months with me in this house. If you don’t want to honor the will, you can always forfeit and leave, in which case I will make an offer to buy it from the charity.”
“You would love that, wouldn’t you? You believe money can buy you anything. If I leave, then I’ll have nothing. It must give you immense pleasure—”
“Diana, I didn’t know the full content of John’s will until today. Believe me, it gives me no pleasure to have to take care of you.”
“How dare you! Go to hell.”
“Whether you like it or not, you’re my responsibility.”
“I’m no man’s responsibility. I have a job.”
“I believe at Pisano’s.”
“Are you threatening my job?”
“As long as you continue to do a good job, it is yours.”
“There’s never been any complaint about my work.”
“Then I guess you still have a job.”
“I’ll not be bullied by you.”
“Bullied?”
“Yes. I won’t have you create problems because you want revenge.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll live at Raven’s Nest to satisfy the will, but I don’t have to like it.”
Trace shrugged. “Well, I guess we’re stuck with each other.” He trained his blue eyes on her. “At least for two months.” Conflicting emotions battled on her face. He loved Raven’s Nest and knew she did also. Even when they were together, Diana had expressed a sincere awe for the beauty of the place. He didn’t want it to go to charity.
“If we must live together, I don’t want my son to be affected by what’s going on between us. He’s very smart and will pick up on our mood.”
“I’m not a monster, Diana. I would never say or do anything to hurt a child.”
“I believe you,” Diana said slowly. “I didn’t mean to imply you would harm my son. I don’t think you would knowingly cause a child pain.”
“Stop, Diana, while you’re ahead.”
“I wasn’t trying to belittle you. Anyway, I think enough has been said today.”
Trace’s voice was surprisingly calm when he spoke. “I agree. Any further discussion between us will only compound the situation. I’ll move into the mansion tomorrow. If you need to reach me, I’ll be at the penthouse.”
“Penthouse?” she questioned.
“Yes. I never sold it.”
“I assumed you would stay with your mother.”
“What made you think that?”
She shrugged. “She would expect it.”
“Diana, I haven’t lived with my mother since I was six years old and I’m not about to start now. I’m my own man; I come and go as I please. Crispina is my biological mother. That’s something I can’t change, but I decide where I sleep at night.”
His mother, Crispina Pisano Montgomery, was possessive when it came to him. It was partly because he was an only son and she hadn’t been the best mother when he was growing up. For years Crispina had been trying to make up for his adolescence, when she practically ignored him, turning him over to boarding schools and nannies for rearing. If it hadn’t been for his father and his uncle, he would’ve been a lonely little boy. But his father and uncle’s presence had made Crispina’s absence not so painful.
There was a long silence. Finally, she said, “I’ll get Rosa to prepare one of the suites in the east wing for you.”
“I haven’t been gone so long, Diana, that I have forgotten the east wing is seldom used. I think you’re trying to put as much distance as you can between us before I even move into the house.” He gave her a crooked smile. “I’ll use my old suite of rooms in the west wing.”
Trace wasn’t going to let her pretend he didn’t exist. She’d had five years to erase him from her mind, and it was too bad if she hadn’t because he refused to be dismissed now.
“Okay. I’ll ask Rosa to prepare your old suite.” She moved to walk past him to the door.
“There’s no need to rush,” he said as she continued walking. “Diana.” She stopped but didn’t turn to face him. He moved in close to her. The light jasmine scent of her perfume tantalized him, and he inhaled deeply.
“Diana,” he said her name again, his cultured voice rasping slightly, “I’ll be here tomorrow at noon. You can tell Rosa to have the rooms ready by then.”
“Okay.” She continued walking to the door and he followed.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Trace said softly, his breath grazing the back of her neck. She shivered in sharp reaction to his nearness. The need in him tensed; he waited for a response. None came. He ran his hard fingers lightly against the smooth, soft contour of her slim neck. She spun around sharply and stepped away from him. Her breath came in sharp, quick gasps. An array of emotions crossed her face. He moved his hand to her face and brushed his thumb slightly over her full top lip. Trace barely touched her, but she stiffened and lifted her chin, her eyes opening wide in confusion.
“What did I forget?” she said.
He captured the small space between them and gave her a slight, twisted smile, “You forgot to say, ‘Welcome home.’ ”
Diana’s breath caught in her throat and her eyes grew wide. Confusion marred her features; a look of fear flashed across her features and quickly disappeared, replaced with a frown. If he hadn’t been watching her closely he would’ve never seen it. Diana was a master at hiding her feelings. She breathed deeply and stared at him. Silence hung between them. They were like two warriors waiting for the other to make the first move. Finally, she murmured a quick, inaudible reply and slipped through the door.
Trace cursed as his eyes followed her until she disappeared from his sight.