“Madison, you need to let me paint you in that dress.”

His own father.

“Madison! Just for a weekend. Fly in, fly out, you on the white-sand beach of Cozumel!”

A renowned, gay advertising executive.

“Honey, I know you don’t like exploiting your name and family in any way, but if you’d pose for the poster for the art fest, I just know that it would do incredible things for business—and all the proceeds go to children’s charities!”

An attractive silver-haired matron, obviously a patron of the arts.

“Kyle!”

He turned.

His half brother, Rafe, handsome as a beach boy with his blond hair, silver eyes and perfect tan, was approaching him, a little brunette on his arm. “Kyle, meet Sheila Ormsby. Sheila is with—”

“The Storm Fronts,” Kyle said, shaking the girl’s offered hand. She was cute, with dimples and a wide smile. She was probably in her late twenties, he thought. He’d seen her playing the keyboard last night, while Madison was singing.

“I didn’t get a chance to meet you last night,” Sheila said, smiling broadly.

The dimples were great. Deep and charming.

“I hadn’t seen Madison in a very long time.”

“So I understand. Rafe tells me that you’re kind of like the prodigal son returned.”

Kyle arched a brow at his half brother. Rafe hunched his shoulders.

Oddly enough, his family—and extended family—members, had been trying to introduce him to women all night. Being a widower seemed to bring out such conduct in others.

“Well, Sheila, it’s a pleasure to get to meet you, and I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to say hello last night. How long have you playing?”

“All my life,” Sheila said.

Rafe grinned and walked off, leaving him to discuss music with Sheila. As they talked, his father returned, bringing the elegant silver-haired patron of the arts along with him—along with her daughter, a voluptuous girl with a headful of sleek, shiny black hair inherited from her Colombian father.

Then Trent came up to him, beaming proudly, as if he’d created the pretty sandy-haired entertainment reporter on his arm specifically for Kyle.

As they talked, Kyle noted Kaila checking her watch nervously, then excusing herself and heading for the house.

Madison, apparently watching Kaila, as well, excused herself.

Jassy did likewise.

Curious, Kyle excused himself and walked to the self-service patio bar, then looked through the partially open glass doors into the living room. Kaila was on the phone, talking too quietly to be overheard. The other two hovering worriedly nearby.

He slowly set ice in his glass, concerned. He wasn’t sure why. He’d been gone a long time, but it didn’t really change things. Once upon a time, before Lainie’s murder—or perhaps before Fallon’s death—they’d all been close. He cared deeply about them. All of them. Yet…

Why the hell was he eavesdropping?

He didn’t know.

Yes, he did.

He was worried. Worried about Madison. He wanted to keep his distance from her. She was trouble; she could slip right beneath his skin. She could slip into his damned mind, for Christ’s sake. He would be better off hundreds and hundreds of miles away from her….

Not only was she trouble, but, damn, if she just didn’t seem to be Lainie reincarnated!

All true.

And all immaterial.

He wanted her. Naked. Panting. Hot. He wanted to—

Whoa. Not so graphic, he warned himself.

The pictures in his mind were graphic as all hell.

He started, dropping an ice cube heavily into his glass as Kaila hung up the phone with such angry force that the slam could be heard on the patio.

As she hung up, the other two looked away uncomfortably. Madison cleared her throat, staring at Jassy in perplexity, then looking back to Kaila.

“Kaila,” she said quietly, “you can’t get so angry every time Dan can’t make something. He’s an attorney—”

“Yeah, and attorneys don’t have lives?” Kaila asked acidly.

“Kaila,” Madison said patiently, “Dan’s a good guy. He worked his butt off to get through school, and he works diligently now. He knows that you come from money, and he wants to provide for you. He’s very honorable about never wanting to borrow money from Dad, or touch your trust fund, or—”

“Oh, he’s just a fucking saint!” Kaila lashed back.

Madison tried again. “Kaila—”

“Hey, come on, now, watch the language!” Jassy said, trying a teasing approach.

“Kaila, seriously, come on now—” Madison tried.

“Oh, yeah, right! Marriage is so sacred! This from the woman who divorced Mr. All-American!”

“Yes, and divorce isn’t pleasant! But you and Dan love one another—”

“Oh, shut up, Madison! You don’t know anything. Madison, Madison! Everything is Madison! Madison would look so lovely in a poster for the art fest, Madison, can’t you please fly to Cozumel just for a day, darling? Madison, you look so much like your mother! Well, damn it! Madison, I look just like you, and still I’m just Kaila, with three little kids, PTA meetings, McDonald’s lunches, a regular baby factory. Naturally I nursed my children. A rich kid like me with nothing to do but raise my beautiful children and be Dan’s wife. While you—you’re the god-damned, all-glorious Madison!”

Kyle couldn’t help watching Madison’s reaction. Part of her must have wanted to tell her younger sister to go straight to hell. But he watched her gain control before she spoke; it was obvious she loved Kaila, and she seemed to realize that her sister was only lashing out in pain.

“Kaila, what the hell is wrong?” Madison asked her softly.

“Nothing. Nothing!” Kaila snapped. But her huge blue eyes were becoming liquid with tears.

“Kaila—”

Kaila went dashing off down the hall toward her bedroom. Madison started after her.

“Leave her for a few minutes,” Jassy said.

“Jassy, something is really wrong, for Kaila to be acting like that!”

“And you should talk to her. Just give her a few minutes first.”

“All right.”

Madison turned around, heading out to the patio. Kyle sheepishly realized that he had been a miserably intrusive eavesdropper, and he moved away from the bar.

Luckily the art patron’s daughter with the great head of black hair was nearby. He quickly engaged her in conversation. Madison walked by, to all outward appearances composed, except that she didn’t even seem to notice him.

Maybe she didn’t.

He wondered if he should go talk to Kaila himself. He couldn’t. His stomach was clenching. He couldn’t help watching Madison. He wondered, if he could just fuck her once, would the feeling of obsession go away?

Madison couldn’t wait too long; she was too anxious. She slipped back into the house and hurried down the hallway. She paused at the door to Carrie Anne’s room and heard Martique, her father’s amazingly patient Haitian housekeeper, reading to the kids in her beautiful singsong voice.

She hurried on to Kaila’s door. She knocked softly, but didn’t wait to be bidden to enter. She went on in, treading softly.

“Kaila?”

Her sister was stretched out on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She stopped crying, but her cheeks were damp with tears. “Oh, Kaila!” Madison said softly, and hurried across the room. Kaila half rose, ready to meet Madison’s hug.

“Oh, Madison, I’m so sorry! It’s just that he never shows up, and I never really know where he is, and I just keep thinking that there’s more going on! I know he’s sleeping with someone else. God! If I just had the balls to have an affair myself!”

“Kaila! That wouldn’t help anything.”

“Yeah, it might. It might make me feel wanted. Special.”

“Kaila, I know that Dan loves you.”

“You just want that to be the truth! And you don’t understand! Everyone loves you. Everyone! You’re beautiful. You’re perfect. People fawn over you all the time.”

“Kaila!”