Harlequin Desire January 2021--Box Set 1 of 2 by Maisey Yates (inspirational books .TXT) 📗

belong to a clan of some sort. And this was without a doubt a gathering of a clan. Valerie was extending an invitation, but was it too late?

Do I fit in?

She was itching to reach for a pen and write the words down. The sad thing was, she didn’t trust herself with a journal—not anymore. Julian was right about one point. When it suited her, when it was convenient, she did sell her private thoughts for profit. If she hadn’t given in to the childish need to “Dear Diary” every life event, she could have spared herself a lot of pain over the years.

Valerie brought her a cup of tea. “I told ma belle-mère that you had a migraine and, she sent up ginger tea. She doesn’t believe in pills. It’s only weird because she’s a pharmacist.”

Nina set the hot cup of tea on the windowsill. “Give me a sec and I’ll head down with you. I’m starting to feel like the disturbed woman in the attic up here by myself.”

* * *

Nina studied her reflection in her compact mirror and winced. She swiped on lip gloss to liven up her complexion, but that was a lot to expect from a fifteen-dollar tube of goo. The doorbell rang and, a moment later, a child let out a bloodcurdling scream. Nina startled and dropped the lip gloss wand. Next thing, she and Valerie had joined a stampede toward the front door. They rushed down the stairs but only made it as far as the landing. The foyer was cramped, everyone straining to catch a glimpse at whoever was on the other side of the screen door. There was one word on everybody’s lips: “Thunder!”

Nina wished a bolt of lightning would strike her dead.

Valerie turned to her, eyes bright. “It’s Julian!”

Nina gripped her cousin’s arm. “How did he know where to find me?”

“I don’t know!”

The birthday boy, already a little drunk, had some insight. “He called the house and asked if he could come by!”

“And you said yes?” Nina said.

Patrick was a smart, attractive man. He had a quick smile and poreless chocolate-brown skin. Otherwise, he was a guy’s guy and proved it with his next words. “JL Knight calls and says he wants to come over on my birthday and you expect me to say no? Get outta here!”

“He’s not here to see you!” Valerie scoffed and turned to Nina. “Don’t look so grim. He’s probably here to grovel.”

“I don’t want him to grovel.”

The look her cousin gave her left no room for misinterpretation. “Now I know you’re full of it.”

“It won’t change anything.”

“It’s a start,” Valerie said. “He grovels a bit, and then you work something out, come to an understanding.”

Valerie’s mother-in-law came out of the kitchen brandishing a massive wooden pestle. She elbowed her way through the crowd and proceeded to question the intruder. Nina ordered Patrick to call back his mother. She didn’t want Julian pummeled to death with a wooden pestle. Her concern amused Valerie. “Let the groveling begin!”

* * *

If he groveled, they could work something out, come to an understanding. That was the rule. Except Julian wasn’t groveling, not even a little bit.

Valerie had finally let him in, apologizing for the raucous welcome. “Sorry! My family is extra.” And there he was, standing in the tight foyer, looming over everyone, her tall, dark and handsome movie star.

After Patrick gushed over him and they snapped the obligatory photo, Valerie led them to a quiet seating area on the second floor so they could talk in peace. They settled on opposite ends of an upholstered bench. He looked like a dream in a blue button-down shirt, his hair slicked back. He had no right to look so good when she felt and looked as if she were living a nightmare.

“Sorry for crashing your party,” he said to Valerie.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Valerie said smoothly. “You’ve made my husband’s year. Anything to eat or drink? We’ve got plenty of food.”

“No. Thank you,” Julian said. “I won’t be staying long.”

He wasn’t staying long. Drive-by groveling? Did that count for anything?

“Let me know if you change your mind,” Valerie said.

Nina’s gaze stayed with Valerie as she headed down the stairs. What she would give if her cousin could stay and arbitrate. Julian was as stiff as a stick figure. He sat tilted forward, elbows on knees and fingers in a steeple under his chin. Silence pulsed around them. She felt sure it echoed the beat of her heart.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m flying home tomorrow.” That wasn’t the answer to his question, but that was all she had to say.

He nodded as if processing her words. Then he very slowly opened the messenger bag that he’d dropped at his feet and pulled out her journal. The pages were waterlogged and the red leather cover had new scuff marks.

Relief shot through her. “Oh, God! Where did you find it?”

“Grace found it in the garden.” He flipped it open. “Someone ripped out a few pages before tossing it in the bushes.”

He handed her the journal. She opened it on her lap and ran her finger along the frayed edges of the missing pages. “What sort of person does this?”

“The sort of person that is Pete. He was caught on camera.”

Nausea rolled through her. “I warned you about him.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry. That’s why I’m here. I could have had it shipped to you, but I needed to look you in the eye and tell you how sorry I am. Pete was working with that website, feeding them information and tipping off their photographers, and I overlooked the obvious signs. I just didn’t want to cost a working man his job if it wasn’t true.”

Did this count as groveling? Nina wasn’t sure.

“The only reason they did this to you was to get to me,” he said. “They used you, and I’m sorry for the hurt and embarrassment.”

They may have caused her great embarrassment; only he had hurt her.

Nina tightened