Texas Heat

Book 1: Texas Heat Series

by Gerry Bartlett

Genres: Contemporary Romance; Romantic Suspense; Western Romance

Synopsis

A surprise inheritance. A family of strangers. And a man she can’t avoid . . . Cassidy Calhoun can’t believe she’s the secret daughter of an oil billionaire. This small-town Texas girl with student loans by the barrel has never gotten a thing she didn’t earn for herself. The terms of her late father’s will say Cassidy—and her newfound spoiled half-siblings—must work a year at the family’s floundering business before they inherit a dime. Too bad the only thing Cass knows about oil is that it makes the junker she drives go. Mason MacKenzie, the evaluator for their test, will help her get up to speed. Or will he? Mason is a boot-wearing, truck-driving Houston hottie who runs Calhoun Petroleum’s biggest rival. The sparks between him and Cassidy could combust any minute. But the closer they get, the more strange near-accidents Cassidy seems to be having. And Mason has plenty of reasons to play up their attraction for his own benefit. If she can trust him, the two of them working together might save a crumbling dynasty. But if she can’t, Cass might just lose both her fortune and her heart . . .

Release date: December 6, 2016

Publisher: Lyrical Press

Print pages: 283

Sample

Cassidy Calhoun must have had worse days before, but she sure couldn’t remember them. With the heat near 100, her car’s AC giving out halfway to downtown Houston and the freeway in gridlock, she was going to be late. Plus, one jerk had almost killed her trying to move into her lane. Twice. Jeez. Her hands were still shaking.

This whole inheritance thing had better not be a scam. But then the man had tracked her down at work, handed her a business card from a fancy law firm, and claimed showing up at this lawyer’s office today would be worth her while. That was an awful lot of trouble for a scam.

So she’d arranged for a personal day off from work. Why not? If some long-lost relative had left her enough money to trade in this hunk of junk and maybe pay down some bills, then this morning’s drive would be worth every painful minute. Cass pulled into a parking garage with a twenty-dollar minimum. Great. It was as if someone had peeked into her purse. These people had better validate.

Minutes later she tried to smooth the wrinkles out of her dress. Black wasn’t her color, but some poor soul had died, right? When she checked in the mirrored walls as the elevator took her up to the thirtieth floor she wasn’t surprised to see she’d sweated off her makeup. Of course the heat had frizzed her hair from professional to Jane of the jungle. But her hopes rose with the elevator. This building was high-end. If she was the right Cassidy Calhoun and actually about to come into some money, her whole life could change.

Leaning against the cool mirror, Cass imagined what she could do with some extra money. Priority one? She’d get a place of her own without a horny roommate who was a screamer when her boyfriend stayed over. And speaking of boyfriends . . . The elevator door swished open and that thought vanished as she laid eyes on the most beautiful male specimen she’d seen outside the pages of a magazine ad. He had a cell phone to his ear.

“Gorikai itadaki arigatgozaimasu.” He ended the call, then bowed. “Did I just do what I think I did?”

Cass couldn’t resist. She bowed back.

He laughed a loud, from-the-belly laugh that was irresistibly infectious. Cass grinned and felt some of the tension that had started a headache behind her right eye ease a little. His laugh cut off abruptly, as if someone had turned the handle on a spigot, when his phone rang in his hand. “Shit.” He leaned against the elevator door when it tried to shut on him.

Cass tucked her purse under her arm. Was this her floor? No, twenty-eight.

“Yeah, I just got through talking to them. The deal’s still on.” He listened for a moment. “No, you’re not getting near the Japanese. I don’t care if you do think they have their heads up their asses. I handled it and they sure as hell don’t want to talk to you again.” He stepped inside and glanced at the keypad next to the doors, then gave Cass a thorough inspection that made her brush her hair behind her ears, the less seen of it the better. “Listen, I’m going into a meeting and turning off my phone. I did my job, which should be enough to make you happy, Ed. Talk to you later.” He made a point of shoving his phone in his breast pocket after shutting it down.

“You going to thirty too?” He kept his finger on the button that kept the doors open. The elevator had started buzzing while he’d been on the phone.

“No, thirty.” Cass eased away from him into her own corner of the elevator. Not that he intimidated her with his expensive suit and the kind of confidence that she certainly didn’t feel today.

“That’s what I meant.” He finally let the elevator do its thing and grinned, his whiter-than-white teeth perfect in his tanned face. “That’s where I’m heading. Is there any chance you’re Cassidy Calhoun?”

“Um, yes, I am. Cass.” Cass blinked when he offered his hand. Clean, buffed nails, but calluses on his fingers. She clasped his hand. Firm handshake. Nice. None of that limp, pseudo-shake some men thought a woman expected or deserved.

“Mason MacKenzie.” He gestured when the elevator doors opened again. “We’re here.”

“Are you one of the lawyers?” The business card had read MacKenzie and Harper. As she slid by the man and stepped into the spacious foyer with gleaming hardwood floors, she got a whiff of a subtle fragrance from him. Delicious. Almost as delicious as his broad shoulders in what had to be a custom-made Italian suit. She stumbled when her heel caught on the edge of the oriental rug in front of the receptionist’s desk. He caught her elbow before she could hit the floor.

Cool move, Cass.

“Careful.” He squeezed her arm, then let go when she was steady again. “No, not a lawyer. That’s my brother Dylan. You’ll meet him in a moment.”

Cass noticed he wore shiny black cowboy boots with his suit. Interesting. He also had on a class ring from a Texas college she wished she could have afforded. His dark suit set off his dark hair and the pale blue tie could have been dyed to match his eyes. Which were also looking her over. Cass focused on the woman who’d shot out of her chair behind the chrome and glass desk centered under the name of the law firm. Killer shoes, dress-for-success suit in red and she was model-thin and tall. Cass hadn’t looked that polished even before her ride from hell.

“Mr. MacKenzie! They’re waiting for you in the big conference room. Is this Miss Calhoun? She’s the last to arrive. Besides you, of course.” The woman flushed, like she realized she’d just handed both of them a tardy slip. “Can I get either of you a water, or something stronger?” She said this last to Mason with a flirty look, practically dancing in her high heels.

“I’m fine, Amber. Yes, this is Ms. Calhoun. Cass?” Mason stayed by Cass’s side, like he was ready to catch her if she stumbled again.

“Are we going to the same meeting? The reading of a will?” Cass looked up at him. He was awfully close, close enough that she could see the sweep of his thick, dark lashes as he nodded and took her elbow again.

“Oh, yes. I think you’ll find it very interesting.” Mason smiled and moved her forward. “It’ll be down this hall.”

“What about that water?” The receptionist kept pace with them, checking out Cass with a frown. “No offense, Ms. Calhoun, but you look like you’re suffering from the heat.”

“Cass? She’s right.” Mason stopped. “Your face is red.”

“Car trouble—my AC went out. Water would be great. But like you said, we’re late. Can you bring it to me in the conference room? Please?” Cass hated to ask, but she also hated to keep people waiting.

“Sure. Still or sparkling?”

Cass shook her head. “What?”

Mason started moving her down the hall again. “She means do you want water with or without bubbles.”

“Oh. Without, please. And thank you.” Now she felt like an idiot.

“Relax. The fun’s just begun. Wait till you meet the rest of the Calhouns.” Mason pushed open a door and conversation in the room suddenly stopped as the people inside turned to stare. “Everyone, this is Cassidy Calhoun. Goes by Cass. Be nice. She had car trouble and may pass out from heat exhaustion any minute.” He held out a vacant chair. “The man at the end of the table is my brother Dylan, the lawyer who asked you to come here.”

“You feel faint? Can’t have that. Is someone getting you water?” This came from a middle-aged woman with pretty blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. “I’m Missy Calhoun, Connie’s wife number two.”

“Water. Yes, thank you.” Cass settled into a comfortable leather armchair. Connie? She was about to ask when a girl who seemed several years younger than her own twenty-nine sat on the conference table in front of her.

“Why, she’s the spittin’ image of Daddy, isn’t she, Mama?” The girl, who had the older woman’s blond hair and blue eyes, bumped her mother with her knees and seemed determined to get into her space.

“I’ll say. Dark hair and that unfortunate stubborn chin. Are you stubborn, girl?” Missy obviously didn’t mince words.

“I’ve been known to be. Who do I look like?” Daddy? And there was nothing wrong with her chin, damn it. Except that it was square and tended to stick out when she was mad. Okay, so it was unfortunate. And stubborn.

“You don’t know who I’m talking about?” The girl raised her eyebrows. “You’ve got to be kidding. Anyway, I’m Megan. This is my sister Shannon and that guy over there who won’t quit texting is my brother Ethan.” Megan smiled and left her perch on the table. “We had no idea Daddy had you first. It’ll take some getting used to. Don’t know why it was a big secret all these years.” She glanced around and the girl who looked a lot like her nodded. The boy, who also had Cass’s unfortunate chin and dark hair, ignored them, more interested in his phone.

“Drink.” Mason thrust a cold glass into her hand. The receptionist set a tray with a pitcher of ice water and more glasses on the table then hurriedly left the room, closing the door behind her.

Cass gulped the water gratefully. When she reached to refill her glass, her hand shook and she spilled water on the tray. She gave up and sat back.

“Relax, honey, we don’t bite. I swear it.” Missy Calhoun gave her a sympathetic smile, then touched her eyes with a hanky. “It’s a sad day for us. Did your daddy ever come see you?”

“I don’t know who or what you’re talking about.” Cass scanned the room. Mason had moved down the table to talk to his brother the lawyer. Now everyone stared at her. “I never knew my father and he sure as hell never came to see me. If that’s who this is about, I’m out of here.” She stood and her purse slid off her lap to hit the floor. Just her luck that her phone and wallet spilled out of it, along with a wad of tissues and her freaking keys.

“Hold it.” Mason leaned down to shove everything back inside her black patent purse. Then he held it out of reach. “Are you telling us that your mother never told you Conrad Calhoun was your father?”

“She certainly didn’t.” Cass refused to jump for her purse. He was too damned tall and she was not going to look the fool in front of these well-dressed people who were examining her like she was a bug under a microscope. “My father abandoned her when she was pregnant, never gave her one dime of support. He left us to fend for ourselves. Why would I expect anything from him now?”

Mason put her purse in her hands but didn’t release it. “Will you listen to my brother for a minute? And consider that maybe your mother didn’t tell you the whole story? Or the true story?”

Missy took a glass of water. “Connie could be a mean son of a bitch, of course, but he loved his family. I can’t believe he would abandon his wife and child.” She glanced at the lawyer. “Maybe this is a mistake.”

“I’m sure it is. He may have loved this family, but not mine.” Cass gestured around the table. “If this Connie person claimed he was my father, then believe it, lady. He left us high and dry. I have thousands of dollars of student-loan debt to prove it. Hey, girls, did you have to work the McDonald’s drive-through to help pay for college? Ever sleep through a test because you’d pulled the late-night shift at Hooters?” Oh, she shouldn’t have said that. Now Ethan, the guy who was supposedly her brother, had looked up to check out her rack. Mason had already done that, but was giving it a second look. Dylan the lawyer did it automatically, then must have remembered he was supposed to be serious on this sad occasion. He cleared his throat and shuffled papers.

“It wasn’t just a claim . . .” Dylan kept his eyes on hers.

“We’re sorry, Cassidy.” Megan’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sure if Daddy had known . . .”

“What makes you think he didn’t?” Cass started toward the door. “And just didn’t give a damn about me.” Yes, her chin was doing its thing. Well, she was mad. Who were these people to talk about “Daddy” like he was someone they’d loved? She’d never had a father to love.

She faced the room and knew all of them were staring and judging her. “Hey, it’s not like I lived in Siberia. If your ‘Daddy’ raised you here in Houston, then we were only about thirty minutes from each other. But I never heard his name before today. Never got so much as a birthday card from him.” Cass gripped the doorknob, seconds from opening it and storming out. “I don’t need this.” But she couldn’t open that door. High priced lawyer, well-dressed people. Conrad Calhoun. Where had she heard that name before?

She hesitated. All of this shouted money. Which meant there might, might be some of it coming her way. She wasn’t so mad or so proud that she could afford to bolt and miss out on a chance to ease some of her debt burden. She was trying to figure out a way to back down from her dramatic exit line when Dylan stepped forward, a sheaf of papers in his hand.

“Wait. Please. Conrad had his reasons for ignoring you, Cassidy.” He gestured toward the chair she’d abandoned. “Will you sit and listen? Give me five minutes. I can see you have your father’s temper, but I promise that if you’ll let me explain things, it will help you understand why he couldn’t contact you. Or help you financially.” The man who looked a lot like Mason stepped closer and held out a file folder. “Until now.”

“I’m the lawyer Connie trusted with his estate and his private affairs after my father died. He and Dad were best friends. I have the paperwork from your parents’ divorce right here.” Dylan opened the folder. “Which prohibited him from contacting you. I’ll sum it up for you, if you’ll let me.”

Cass sat. “Prohibited? That seems a little extreme.” What could he have done that had made her mother refuse to let him see her? Contact her? Throw money at her? Cass looked around the room at her so-called sisters and brother, who were clearly hearing all of this for the first time if their expressions could be believed. Missy, wife number two, just pursed her lips, obviously not shocked at all. “Please, go ahead.”

“All right, then.” Dylan picked up the folder and began going through papers. “Your parents were married for a couple of years when your mother got pregnant with you. Apparently the marriage was rocky from the start. Then something happened and your mother sued for divorce. Conrad was willing to deal generously with her. His business had started to take off and he was already worth plenty. She could have had a settlement in the millions and as well as generous child support.”

Cass held up her hand. “Wait. His business. What was it?” Conrad Calhoun. It rang a bell but she couldn’t—

“Calhoun Petroleum, Cassidy. Maybe you’ve heard of it? It’s worth billions today.” This from another woman who was sipping a glass of white wine. She sat in a chair in one corner of the room, clearly not part of the other Calhoun family. She was beautiful, with carefully styled red hair and porcelain skin. Cass didn’t need a fashion magazine to recognize that her elegant gray dress probably had a designer label.

“No one bothered to introduce me. I’m Alexandra, wife number three. No children with Conrad. We liked to travel and play.” She smiled at Missy. “I’m the fun wife.”

“Of course you are.” Missy turned away from her. “I’m sorry you never knew your father, Cassidy. He was great with his children. Not so good with his wives.” She glanced back at Alexandra. “I heard you were separated and he’d moved back to the house. You got lucky he kicked off before you had to deal with the prenup he made you sign.”

“Poor Missy. Maybe if you’d had a facelift when you needed it, he wouldn’t have dumped you for me.” Alexandra flashed her enormous diamond ring. “Can we get on with this?”

“Getting on with it right now.” Dylan looked ready to step between the two women, though neither of them had bothered to get out of their chairs.

“Daddy was a wonderful father.” Megan patted Cass on the shoulder. “No matter what happened with your mama.” She glanced at her mother. “Cutting you off from him, that’s harsh. And not taking the money? That’s awfully prideful.”

“This is how it was stipulated in the divorce decree. Liz wouldn’t take any money from Connie and he relinquished his parental rights, including the right to contact the child—you, Cassidy. He signed off on it without a fight and never would say why. His friends, including my own father, speculated that it was because he was sick of their fighting and he needed to be free to handle a bid for a hostile takeover going on at that time. He couldn’t afford a big court battle then.” Dylan shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“He gave me up for money? For business, I mean.” Cassidy leaned her head back against the cool leather and tried not to let these strangers see how that hurt her.

“Maybe you’re not really his. We should run a DNA test.” Alexandra set down her wineglass. “I’m sure you’re here because you’re mentioned in the will. Isn’t she, Dylan?”

“Yes, she is. That’s why all of you are here.” Dylan picked up a second set of papers.

Cass shivered. The room was cold, the AC obviously set at arctic. Mentioned in a billionaire’s will. A man who hadn’t wanted her. “Maybe you should run a DNA test. If I’m not his daughter, that would explain a lot. And I shouldn’t take anything from him.”

“You’re his, Cassidy. It would be convenient if you weren’t, but didn’t my daughter just say you were the image of him?” Missy glanced at the lawyer. “And I’m sure Dylan checked that out already, if I know him.”

“Yes. I’m not usually into such cloak-and-dagger stuff, but I had my detective, the one who tracked you down at work, Cassidy, steal your coffee cup from your desk. We ran a DNA test from the lipstick print on it. You are definitely Conrad’s child.” Dylan threw another piece of paper on the table. “The test results are here if anyone wants to see them.”

Alexandra actually picked it up and studied it.

“I wondered where my favorite mug disappeared to. You can do that? Get DNA just from my lipstick on a ceramic cup?” Cass’s fingers hurt and she realized she gripped her purse like it was a lifeline.

Ethan finally spoke. “You can. I just ran an Internet search and it’s true. Three sisters. Great.” He went back to his phone.

Cass swallowed, not sure she wasn’t going to throw up that water. This was real. Her father was a famous oilman. A billionaire. Calhoun Petroleum. Who hadn’t heard of that company? She wanted to pull out her own phone and call her mother right now. How could she have done this to her only child? Let her work so hard for so long? Her mom knew how desperate Cass had been for a father. No mention of this rich man in Houston.

Damn it. She looked up and hated the pity she saw in everyone’s eyes. Yes, she and her mother were going to have a come-to-Jesus talk, if she could bring herself to ever speak to Elizabeth Calhoun ever again. And there was that. If her mother had hated Conrad so much, why keep his name? Only one person had those answers and she wasn’t here. Cass took a breath and straightened in her chair.

“Okay, I’m Conrad Calhoun’s daughter. So he died. Aren’t we here for the reading of his will?” She looked around, meeting one pair of eyes after another, some sympathetic, one hostile, one bored. “I’m . . . um, sorry for your loss. Forgive me if I’m not feeling it. With this being news and all.”

“We get it, Cassidy.” Megan’s sister—what was her name?—tossed her own phone on the table. “Welcome to the family. Now she’s right, Dylan. Unless you’ve got some more secret siblings you want to spring on us, I say let’s get on with it. I have a meeting of the rodeo committee later.” She leaned on the table, focused on the lawyer. “Aren’t you on the corporate-development committee too this year? Want to ride out there with me later? The meeting’s at the Rocking R Ranch, you know.”

“No more secret siblings.” Dylan smiled. “And, yes, Shannon, I’m going out there too. Later.” He got serious and flipped through his papers.

“So that explains why you’re dressed in leather and lace, Shannon.” Alexandra raised an elegant eyebrow. “Texans. Aren’t you rushing things? I thought the rodeo didn’t start until February. This is August.”

“True. But we plan all year long. We work hard and party hard. Right, Dylan?” Shannon scooted her chair closer to the lawyer. “You are going to change clothes before we go, aren’t you?” She slid her hand over his where he was rifling through a file.

“Of course. I’ll put on my boots before we go. Unlike my brother, I don’t wear them twenty-four-seven. Now we need to get down to business.”

“Uptight lawyer.” Mason had settled into one of the leather chairs. “The Japanese loved my boots and were disappointed I didn’t have on my Stetson.”

“I’m sure you played the good-old Texas boy to the hilt.” Dylan ignored Mason’s rude gesture. “Now, let’s get back to the matter at hand.” The lawyer sat at the head of the table and told them to look at the big-screen TV at the end of the room. “Conrad made a video of his last will and testament. Of course, I have all the necessary paperwork here to back up his last wishes. This is binding. So don’t think you can wiggle out of any of his provisions.”

“Provisions?” Ethan finally set down his phone. “What the hell did Daddy do this time? That man loved to tie strings to everything.”

“You’re right about that, son. You trying to scare us, Dylan?” Missy stalked over to the open bar and helped herself to a glass of red wine.

“No, just setting the scene.” Dylan turned on the TV mounted on the wall and the screen came to life.

Cassidy gasped. He did look like her. He had the same dark hair, but with gray at his temples. And there was her jaw and the stubborn chin that served her well when she wanted to be taken seriously. His eyes were dark, not hazel. But she’d always known she had her mother’s eyes. He was close to Mom’s age, fifties or early sixties, maybe. Too young to be dead. She started to ask how he’d died when he spoke. His deep voice filled the room.

“Well, if you’re seeing this, then I guess I’ve gone to meet my maker. Damn, but I’d hoped to live forever.” His laugh boomed through the room. “Okay, guess you aren’t in the mood to joke. I had a warning or two lately that my time was running out so I made this will. Seems like God has his own plans and I couldn’t buy my way out of this one, though I sure as hell tried.” Another laugh.

“I lived life the way I wanted, made my own rules.” He shook his head. “I’m a sinner. I know that. So it’s likely I’m burning in hell and Lucifer’s got me scraping out cesspools with a teaspoon while you’re watching me in Dylan’s office.” His shoulders slumped and he picked up a coffee cup and took a sip. “No matter. I’m gone and you’re still there. So I want to take care of you all.” He looked straight into the camera and Cass felt like he was talking directly to her. Which was impossible because they’d never met.

She heard a sob and looked around. Shannon had Dylan’s snowy handkerchief in her hands and leaned against his shoulder. Missy had tears running down her cheeks while Alexandra finished off her wine, then used her napkin to dab at her eyes. Megan reached out and gripped Cass’s hand. Ethan watched the screen, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

“Now I expect Dylan’s got you all together. You can trust him. He’s good people. Missy, you and the kids are there. Alexandra, I’m sure you wouldn’t miss this and I won’t disappoint you. I hope he’s managed to get Cassidy to this thing. I’m sorry, honey, that your mama is a stubborn bitch. I tried to watch over you all these years. Even wanted to arrange for your college to be paid for, but Liz would have none of it. So I know you suffered for her pride and her spite. I hope you haven’t been poisoned by it. I wanted you. Wanted to help raise you, see you every weekend if she’d let me. But she had something on me—I won’t say what—so I had to agree to her terms, even after you grew to adulthood.” He looked older suddenly as he pressed a hand to his chest. “It’s my biggest regret. But now I hope to make it up to you. So here’s the deal.”

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He wore a navy-blue polo shirt and black slacks. There was a logo on the shirt that Cass realized was his oil-company symbol. She’d seen it on tanker trucks that had whizzed past her on the freeway. She wanted to believe him, this stranger who looked like her. That he’d wanted her. But if she’d had a child, no one could have kept her from him or her. She knew that in her gut. Anger kept her from shedding any tears. Why couldn’t he have fought harder for her? How could he have let her go? She glanced again at his other three children. They’d had him all their lives. Not fair.

“I know what happens to kids of billionaires who don’t have to work for their money. They end up druggies or no-accounts, sponging off their folks with no direction in their lives.” He hit one knee with his fist. “I won’t have that. So far I’ve been easy on the three of you I had with Missy. Gave you whatever you wanted. Didn’t have the heart to put the hammer down like I should have. But that stops now.”

Cass heard the three people in question move in their chairs. She could only envy them what must have been a wonderful childhood, indulged in every way.

“I made my way by myself, kids. I started with nothing and look what I had at the end. I want you to have that feeling of accomplishment. There’s nothing like it. So you’re each going to work in the business for one year.”

There was a gasp around the room.

“Oh, not Missy and Alexandra. You two ladies earned your inheritance by putting up with me as a husband. Living with a workaholic couldn’t have been fun. Missy, you sure bitched about it enough. So each of you gets twenty million, which will be held in trust by MacKenzie and Harper. That should provide you with a nice income for life. Upon your deaths, the remainder will be divided among my kids. Hope that makes you happy.”

“Well, I expected a lot more than that.” Alexandra picked up her designer bag and stood. “I’ve heard enough. I’ll leave my address with your secretary, Dylan. I’ll expect my first check by end of business Monday.”

“Of course.” Dylan hit pause. He escorted her to the door then sat again and glanced at Missy. “Any comment?”

“No, I’m satisfied. I got mine when we divorced. But I want to hear what else he has in store for my kids. Hit play, Dylan.” She glanced at Mason. “And why is Mason here?”

“You’ll see.” He hit play.

“Now here’s how it’s going to be, kids. Oh, I know, you’re all grown up now. But are you really? Never worked a day in your life, have you? But that will all change now. You’ll find out what it’s like to earn a living. Stick to a budget. Your credit cards are no good anymore and you will have to live on what you make at Calhoun Petroleum for the next year. I think that will do you a world of good.” He picked up his coffee cup and took another sip. “Yes, Missy, there’s bourbon in here. I think I deserve it, don’t you? Because this is hard for me, believe it or not. Cutting the apron strings, so to speak.”

Cass saw the othe. . .