If I Trust You. Beth KeryЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Chapter One

      Clutching one of the delicate centerpieces from her brother’s wedding reception, Deidre Kavanaugh walked out of the near-empty ballroom alone. She was beyond grateful to have witnessed Liam’s happiness at marrying the love of his life—Natalie Reyes—tonight. Now that family and friends were gone, however, and the romance and gaiety of the wedding was over, she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed to be flying solo.

      Again.

      She didn’t have to be alone, of course. Staying at Cedar Cottage instead of at her sister Colleen’s had been Deidre’s choice. She was used to her solitary ways at this point in her life, and old habits died hard.

      Of course, her mother, Brigit, had invited Deidre to stay at the family home on Sycamore Avenue. Deidre had politely refused and then tried to harden her heart when she saw her mother’s hurt, sad expression. Her refusal couldn’t have been too surprising, considering that Deidre held such anger toward her mother for keeping the identity of her biological father a secret for so many years. Deidre had only learned Lincoln DuBois was her natural father late last summer. If it hadn’t been for Liam and his Natalie’s investigation into their past, Brigit would have taken the secret to the grave with her.

      A million stars sparkled against the backdrop of an ebony night sky when she walked out of the Starling Hotel. Liam and Natalie had chosen a windless, frigid night to celebrate their marriage. She took a deep breath when she walked out onto the steps, but it didn’t help much to revive her. The last three months of her life had been stressful...life-altering. She’d learned the identity of her biological father and then lost him to cancer within months of gaining that knowledge.

      Deidre was exhausted, body and soul.

      She paused on the steps, inspecting the little town by starlight. It seemed surreal to be back in Harbor Town. The quaint little community had once been the site of so much childhood innocence and bliss. It’d also been the place where she’d made the horrific discovery she wasn’t really Derry Kavanaugh’s daughter. Derry had had that truth confirmed on the same night. His consequent ragged emotional state was what had led to a traumatic car crash in which Derry had been killed along with three others. Deidre had left Harbor Town the summer before college and never returned—until last night.

      She was in the process of searching for her rental car keys in her evening bag, clutching at the floral centerpiece the whole time, when a man called out to her. She came to an abrupt halt in the parking lot, her breath sticking in her lungs. She recognized that clipped, authoritative voice.

      Nick Malone. Hearing it so unexpectedly here in Harbor Town set her immediately on edge. For some reason, one of the first things Nick had ever said to her when she told him about her discovery that she was Lincoln DuBois’s biological daughter popped into her brain at that moment.

      You must have thought you woke up one day and won the lottery.

      She spun around. His shadow looked large and imposing against the backdrop of the night sky.

      “What are you doing here?” she asked Nick breathlessly.

      “We have important things to discuss. I would think that’s obvious, following Lincoln’s death.”

      His face was difficult to make out in the dim light, but what Deidre couldn’t see, she filled in from memory—the rugged, bold features, the cool, suspicious gaze that always seemed to be detailing her flaws.

      “I can’t believe you came here.”

      “I can’t believe you thought for a second I wouldn’t find you, wherever you went,” he replied dryly. “You knew the reading of Lincoln’s will took place yesterday at The Pines,” he continued, referring to Lincoln’s palatial lodge on the edge of Lake Tahoe.

      Deidre shifted in her high heels anxiously. “My brother’s wedding was tonight. But you must already know or you wouldn’t have shown up here. I guess you’ve been giving more work to that private investigator you hired to snoop into my personal life.”

      Her gaze dropped to his coat-draped, broad shoulders when he shrugged. “Nothing so melodramatic. Your sister Colleen told me about the wedding after Linc’s funeral. It didn’t take a detective to figure out you were probably here. As to your personal life, that pretty much became my business the day you told me about your claim to be Lincoln DuBois’s daughter.”

      She tamped down her flare of temper at his arrogant presumption. “Lincoln was my father. I just wanted to know him. I’ve told you from day one I don’t care about Lincoln’s money or your