PROLOGUE
Trace
Six Years Ago…
Please. God! Just let him live.
I was so wired up on coffee that I couldn’t think straight. Staring down at my youngest brother, Dane, in a hospital bed, I kept hoping I was in the middle of a nightmare.
If I’m dreaming, I need to wake the fuck up!
Clenching my fists on the side rail of his bed, I wanted to openly cry. But I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.
My father was dead. Karen was dead.
All I had left were Sebastian and Dane, the latter barely clinging to life, and I wasn’t letting go of my baby brother. I’d already lost too much, and my sanity couldn’t take another death.
Had it not been for the fact that Sebastian and I had finals, we would have been on that private jet when it had crashed, but we’d left Vegas three days earlier. I’d only had time to attend the nuptials, and had headed straight back to college for my finals. So had my middle brother, Sebastian. Newly graduated from high school, Dane had lingered, hanging out with a friend who lived in Sin City for a few days before heading back to Texas with my father and his new wife, Karen.
Grief tried to consume me as I thought about my dad, but I wouldn’t let it. Right now, I needed control. At the ripe old age of twenty-one, I was a new college grad, ready to move on to finish my MBA.
Unexpectedly, I was also now the head of the Walker family, thrust into a position I didn’t think I was ready to take. But as the oldest, what choice did I have? Everybody was coming to me for decisions now, and I needed to pull my shit together.
I prayed to a God whose existence I’d highly doubted in the past, willing to try anything to keep Dane alive.
The doctors said even if he makes it, Dane will be scarred. Like I give a shit about that? I just want him fucking breathing on his own, free of the ventilator that now mechanically pushed in Dane’s every breath.
I could barely see his eyes, but on closer inspection, I could tell that they were still closed.
Dammit!
I started breathing shallow, my heart racing a mile a minute.
What if he doesn’t make it? What if I lose him, too?
The protective gear I was wearing to keep the room free of germs and lessen Dane’s risk of infection to his burns was stifling me.
Shit!
Get Control! Get Control!
I need to bury my emotions, push them deep inside me. I have people depending on me right now, including Dane. I refused to lose hope. The doctors hadn’t exactly given me good news, but my youngest brother was a fighter. He’d make it through.
I’d been trained since grade school to take my father’s place when the time came. I just hadn’t known it would be so damn soon. Vaguely, I knew I was going to have to step into his shoes, and finish my MBA while I was taking his place.
I balked at the thought of my father being dead. I hadn’t quite dealt with it yet.
Suddenly, I heard a voice in my head, my father’s voice:
Son, if you fall apart and lose control, everything and everybody around you will, too.
He was right.
In the past, we’d always had Dad to lean on, and he was the strongest man I’d ever known. If he had weaknesses, I’d never seen them. Maybe I thought he’d never die, that he wielded too much power to ever have the life sucked away from him. The thought made me feel suddenly vulnerable, but there was no time for me to be a pussy. Now, I had to go it alone, let everybody lean on me. It didn’t matter if I was ready or not.
My eyes caught a blur of motion outside the hospital door, and I saw Sebastian gearing up to come in.
He’s here.
I’d known he was on his way, but I was surprised at how fast he’d gotten here. My brother’s expression was grim as he donned a pair of gloves. A pretty nurse stepped forward to help him secure his mask.
Sebastian still had college to finish, and Dane hadn’t even started. I was going to be the one they’d look to for support. Although Sebastian was only a little over a year younger than me, he’d never gotten the same guidance my father had given me because he was younger and had different goals.
Both of my brothers need me.
Something suddenly snapped inside me as my eyes met Sebastian’s through the glass of the hospital room door. He looked as shell-shocked, exhausted, and hopeless as I felt right now.
Don’t show it! I can’t let him know I’m overwhelmed and having problems dealing with everything that’s happening right now. He needs me, and Dane’s going to need me just as much.
I forced myself to nod at Sebastian, trying to silently signal to him that everything would be okay, but I could tell he wasn’t quite buying it.
We both knew that our lives had been profoundly changed in a matter of moments, and that nothing would ever be the same again.
CHAPTER ONE
Eva
The Present…
"Mr. Walker is ready for you now.” The disapproving female voice was attached to a body and face that could easily belong to a supermodel.
I looked at the woman, tilting my chin just a little as I stood. I was poor, I was hungry, and I was desperate. But I’d be damned if I’d let Ms. Perfect know that. Maybe it was obvious that I wasn’t rich, but I’d never let her know that I was intimidated by my lack of funds. I wasn’t as impressed by billionaires as my mother had been, and I’d never longed for wealth.
All I’d ever really wanted was to live a happy life, an existence without fear. So far, I hadn’t gotten there…yet. But I refused to give up trying.
People are people, and the rich can be just as evil as a person stuck in poverty.
I nodded at her. “Thank you.” Not that I was grateful that she’d kept me waiting for hours just to talk to her boss, but I said the words because I was used to being polite. My father had taught me good manners from the time I was able to speak. He’d always said that you get what you give. I’d found his theory a bit flawed over the years since he’d died, but I did believe he was, for the most part, correct. So I did try to remember his words, and I tried to be cordial to everyone.
Unfortunately, my Latina side wasn’t always as patient as my dad had been.
I’d been waiting nearly all day in the downtown Denver sky- scraper that belonged entirely to Walker Enterprises just to see him. Trace Walker was a man I was inclined to dislike, but he was my only hope at the moment, and I was a survivor.
Trying to act like I belonged on the top floor of this elegant building—which I didn’t—I strode across the office until I reached the perfectly put together blonde female, trying my best to look dignified in a pair of torn blue jeans and a t-shirt that had seen better days. My dark, curly hair was neatly pulled into a tie at the back of my neck. Still, I knew I probably looked exactly like what I was: a poor woman who didn’t have a cent to her name.
Some of the nicer people would call me a latte, or a spicy cracker. Half Mexican and half Caucasian, I was actually what the not-so-nice people called a mongrel or a mutt. Just like a mixed breed dog, I didn’t know where I fit into the world, or exactly who I was. All I knew was that I’d stooped low enough to seek out a Walker, which meant that I had nowhere else to turn now. Ms. Perfect opened the door to Trace Walker’s inner sanctum like it was a solemn occasion. I wondered if she ever smiled, and if she did, what would happen? Mostly likely, her face would crack. Her tight, stoic, frowning expression hadn’t broken all damn day, even though I’d been unfailingly pleasant to her.
Obviously, she didn’t much care what she gave…or what she got back. Not when it came to a woman like me anyway.
I brushed by her, trying not to get another glimpse of her snooty expression. For hours, she’d been looking at me like I was a cockroach that needed squashing, and I was getting tired of it. There was a limit to my affability.
When I had finally entered Trace Walker’s office, I didn’t notice the classy contemporary décor or the expensive modern art on the wall. I didn’t see the amazing floor to ceiling windows that exposed an incredible view of the city from the top floor. It wasn’t because his office didn’t encompass all of those things and more. I just…
I couldn’t.
My eyes riveted immediately on him, and I was incapable of looking away.
Trying to remind myself that I couldn’t and wouldn’t actually like him, I walked slowly toward his enormous desk, unable to ignore the wholly masculine pheromones that seemed to emanate from his massive form.
I’d heard stories that he was formidable, controlled. Unconcerned, I’d blown off the information. How scary could a twenty-seven-year-old guy be, even if he was filthy rich?
Now, I was thinking the stories I’d heard about him were probably true. People were drawn to him for some reason, his presence magnetic. And he hadn’t even spoken a word.
I sat in the luxurious chair in front of his desk, taking him in, trying to size him up as I heard the quiet click of his secretary closing the door. He was all money, and all class…everything I wasn’t. His long, masculine fingers flew across the keyboard on the desk as he stared at the computer screen, looking displeased.
Even irritated, Trace Walker was probably the handsomest man I’d ever seen.
His hair was short, thick, coarse, and a mixture of various shades of brown. The stubble on his face nearly hid what looked like a strong jaw and classically sculpted features. Studying him from my seated position, I couldn’t quite make out the color of his eyes, but he had eyelashes some women would probably kill for. The fact that he was dressed in a power suit that I was certain was custom made was also rather daunting. It made him less approachable to a woman dressed in rags.
What was I thinking to finagle my way into the penthouse in the Walker building, wanting to speak to Trace Walker himself?
He was breathtaking, powerful, and obviously very much in control of this particular domain, no matter how young he might be. I wanted to jump out of the chair and run back to my apartment with my tail between my legs.
I could always resort to my ‘plan B’ which was to travel a little with my few belongings, go somewhere to start over…or would I be starting to live for the first time? But who was I fooling? I could never outrun my past.
When I’d decided to take on this bold mission, ‘plan A’, I definitely hadn’t been prepared for him.
His commanding voice stopped me from taking any action. “What do you want?”
The husky baritone startled me, so it took me a moment to speak. “I need a job.” I had a difficult time not stuttering, but I managed. I wasn’t the type of woman to be intimidated by some- one with money, but it wasn’t the fact that Trace Walker was filthy rich that flustered me. It was him. The air in the room almost visibly sparked with his energy, his presence, the commanding, controlled tone of his voice.
Jesus, he was intimidating for a man who was only four years older than I was, but then, we shared very few commonalities except for one.
“Ah, you’re the friend Chloe sent?” He turned in his chair slowly.
Finally, he was looking at me, and the dark green eyes that were suddenly trained on me freaked me out. His stare was intense, assessing, and I had a feeling that his quick examination, which seemed to bore into my soul, had found me somehow…lacking.
“Chloe?” I had no idea who the woman he mentioned was, but he was obviously recognizing me for someone I…wasn’t.
“Chloe is my cousin’s wife. Didn’t you know that?”
I shook my head. I didn’t know who Chloe was, much less who she had married.
He continued. “She told me she had a friend in Denver who might be able to use a temporary job, a woman who might work for the position I require. I assume you’re that woman.”
My pulse started to race. A job, much needed work that I desperately wanted to acquire. I knew it was wrong, but I answered, “What kind of work?” My voice was shaky, and I hated it. Cowardice had never been a trait I possessed, and it wouldn’t get me the work I so desperately needed. But this situation was out of my scope of life experience.
“She didn’t explain?” His eyebrows rose as he continued to stare.
“No.” I kept my answers simple. It was easier that way.
He looked me up and down, examining everything from my hair to the holes in my beat-up sneakers. It made me feel like a sample beneath a microscope, but I willed myself not to squirm under his less-than-admiring gaze.
“You’re not what I expected,” he mused, folding his arms in front of him on the desk. “But I’m short on time. The holidays are coming, and I need this situation resolved.”
He was abrupt, businesslike, and I felt like a waste of his time. Apparently, he needed help, but resented spending any time on acquiring it.
“I can gift wrap,” I told him in a rush. “I can cook, and I have experience in cleaning and housekeeping.” He obviously needed someone to help him for the holidays. Even if it was a temporary job, I needed the work. “I can even be your personal shopper. Tell me what you need and I’ll find it.”
A slight smile started to form on his face. “Chloe really didn’t fill you in at all, did she? Unfortunately, she didn’t tell me much about you, either. She just said she had a friend who might be able to help me. What in the hell is your name?”
My full name was a mouthful: Evangelina Guadalupe Morales. I settled for answering, “Eva.”
“I don’t need a maid, or a personal shopper.” His smile faded and his eyes were suddenly alive with fire, with an intensity that was slightly alarming. “I need a fiancée.”
Okay. For the first time in my life, I was pretty much speechless. It took me a while to stop gaping at him and recover enough to speak. I could only mutter one word. “Why?”
“My reasons are personal, and the position is temporary. I need to be engaged for the holidays. After that, I’ll no longer need your services.” He eyed me critically. “You have to be convincing. One of the first priorities will be a wardrobe and makeover if you decide you can accept the job without demanding anything except what I’m willing to pay. You take orders directly from me and you follow them. Nobody else knows the truth. Understand?”
Oh, I understood perfectly. Somebody had hurt him, and he wanted that person to believe he didn’t care about them anymore, that he had moved on. I could tell this wasn’t about a business deal to him. He needed to appear engaged because it was personal to him. I shouldn’t do this. I couldn’t do this. But the offer of money to simply play a part for a short time was so incredibly tempting. “What’s the pay?” I blurted out the question before I could stop myself. A hungry woman was a desperate one.
“Fifty thousand. Twenty-five up front, and the other half when the job is completed.” His voice was businesslike and abrupt.
I swallowed hard to get rid of the lump in throat. “Fifty thousand dollars?” My voice came out squeaky, and it was probably because of the severe shock I was experiencing. A woman like me didn’t see that much money at one time in her entire lifetime. Who in their right mind paid that much money just to even the score with an ex-lover? “I can’t take that kind of money.” Regretfully, I had to decline. I wasn’t Chloe’s friend, and sooner or later he’d figure that out. Besides, I couldn’t take advantage of someone who had been hurt so badly, even if he was a Walker. I might be hungry, but my damn conscience was going to let me starve.
“How much?” His answer was clipped and slightly angry.
Our eyes met as he barked out the question, leaving me feeling raw, exposed, and just like the imposter I was. “I just wanted a job,” I answered breathlessly. “I want something permanent. I was hoping maybe I could get a position in one of your resorts. I’d work hard, and I have some experience in housekeeping.”
It wasn’t a lie. I did have experience in housekeeping, until I’d lost the job shortly after I’d started.
All I wanted was to escape my past life, work a job that could provide a steady income, and not be afraid anymore.
Trace looked at me like he didn’t understand me at all. His eyebrows drew together and I could see the muscle in his jaw grow tight.
Finally, he asked huskily, “You just want a cleaning job?”
I nodded slowly. I wanted a job. Any job that would be permanent. Trace Walker owned the largest resort company in the world. Walker Escapes was known for being plush, offering a luxury experience without the over-the-top price. I’d gotten let go from my last position a month ago. I couldn’t pay my rent, and I was just one short step away from being homeless…again. A job—any kind of work I was capable of doing—was what I was desperately seeking. I’d approached Trace Walker for a reason, but it wasn’t because I wanted to be his temporary fiancée.
He contemplated me carefully before answering. “I could send you anywhere in the world. I have resorts everywhere.”
“I know. I don’t care. I just need work, Mr. Walker. Please.” The pleading in my voice bothered me, but I was beyond pride and in survival mode. My future depended on how this meeting turned out.
“No family?” His eyes watched for any reaction.
“None.” I was being truthful. If I had any family, I wouldn’t be here.
The longer he stayed silent, the more nervous I became. My breathing started to get fast and shallow, and my chest ached from my heart racing so fast I was afraid it was going to stop from the exertion.
Trace leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. “I can get you a job. As long as you’re a good employee, you’ll have security at one of my resorts. If you help me, I’ll help you. Half the money up front, and then I place you wherever I have an opening after the assignment is over.”
I’d have security? It was something I’d never experienced. Every job—every single moment really—I was worried. Even when I had a position, I’d been desperately afraid I was going to lose it if anyone found out about my past. Security? I didn’t know the meaning of the word.
I was tempted, so very tempted. I could have money in the bank, not be afraid of overdrawing my checking account. I would be able to eat, to breathe. However, I knew I couldn’t take the deal. “I’m not Chloe’s friend,” I admitted quietly, sadly.
My hopes had risen and then plummeted. I couldn’t lie to him. I did want that elusive protection of having a stable job, but it wouldn’t be possible if he didn’t know the truth.
A small grin split his face. “I know. I’m glad you admitted that yourself. At least I know you’re honest.”
I gaped at him in surprise. “How did you know?”
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