“Geoffrey!” His stepmother’s voice interrupted his concentration.

Geoffrey gave up. His stepmother’s voice was the ultimate mood killer. He looked up at the face that had made his late father tumble like the proverbial Jack from Jack and Jill. Although her youthful glow was dimming and lines were beginning to appear around her eyes and mouth, her skin still looked like a porcelain doll’s, her lips were lush and pink, and her eyes were blue like the summer sky.

Geoffrey knew the truth, however. Behind those innocent-looking blue eyes lurked the instincts of a killer shark with a voracious, unquenchable appetite for designer clothing, jewels, antiques, holidays in Monte Carlo, and generally living beyond her means.

“Geoffrey, look at your sister. This has gone entirely too far. The manor is in total disrepair. Your father never would have permitted the home of generations of Taylors to deteriorate into this kind of condition.”

His father wouldn’t have been permitted to permit it. Charlene would have nagged him twenty-four hours a day, and then his father would have gone into debt to keep his yellow rose from Texas happy. “I’m sorry, Charlene, but as you know, my father may have left his title behind, but he didn’t leave the kind of money you’ve grown accustomed to spending.”

Geoffrey couldn’t recall how many times he’d repeated the same words to Charlene during the last three years.

“Yes, but Gilmore is your responsibility now. You are the heir. Your father trusted you to care for Danielle and me.”

Unlike his father, Geoffrey wasn’t the least bit chauvinistic. As far as Geoffrey was concerned, it was high time Charlene got a job to help support her spending habits. “I’ll remind you that my father was deeply indebted and we almost lost Gilmore because of it. I managed to cover his debts and provide us with a modest income.”

“Selling collectibles on eBay,” Danielle said with a snort. “Why can’t you get a real job instead of spending all your time in here playing your weird music?”

Geoffrey ground his teeth. He was a classically trained musician with special abilities in composing music. He knew that one day he would be paid well for his work. Until then, he needed to continue the discipline of putting down on paper the music that soared through his mind. He also needed to be frugal.

“Danielle needs to go to college,” Charlene told him. “NYU in Manhattan.”

Geoffrey tensed, feeling a sickening sense of foreboding. “But she hasn’t been accepted, has she?”

“Of course she has,” Charlene said. “I met the wife of the president at one of the parties I attended in New York several years ago. We stayed in touch.”

“Does she have a scholarship?”

“No, but Danielle has worked hard on her studies the past two years. She took her father’s death very hard. Despite that, she’s done well, and her efforts should be rewarded.”

Geoffrey bit the inside of his cheek. “That’s going to be dreadfully expensive. Are you sure there isn’t another-” He cleared his throat. “-more reasonable option?”

Charlene narrowed her eyes to slits. “You have a lot of nerve considering you’ve spent years in the finest schools earning a doctorate that will qualify you to ask the question ‘Would you like fries with that?’”

“I was offered scholarships,” he retorted.

Charlene’s cheeks turned scarlet, almost purple. The color of her rage, he thought. He’d seen it many times before.

She pursed her lips. “Danielle, I need to speak to Geoffrey alone. Run along and clean up.”

“But Mother-”

“Now,” Charlene said.

Danielle gave a huff and left the room, slamming the door behind her.

Charlene closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply.

“Are you feeling faint?” Geoffrey asked hopefully.

“No. I’m aligning myself with my inner core.”

Her inner core? He hadn’t known she had an inner core. In fact, Geoffrey had always suspected Charlene’s backbone was formed from some slimy form of rubber. Her morals depended on the day, the situation, whom she needed to impress, and, most important, what she wanted.

She opened her eyes. “A week ago, I did something which I believe will ease the burden you have felt in providing for Danielle and myself since your father passed away.”

Geoffrey’s stomach dropped. “You didn’t sell the piano,” he said. The piano had been in his family for generations. It was his prize possession.

It was his prize possession even though it technically belonged to his stepmother. In a fit of passion-driven insanity, Geofrey’s father had altered his will immediately after his marriage to Charlene and left some of the contents of the house to his new bride. Those contents included the piano. He would live in a box in order to keep that piano.

“No, although I’ve considered it once or twice. Since you’re quite obsessed with continuing to pursue a career in music despite the fact that you haven’t profited from it in any shape or form, I decided it was time to take extraordinary measures.”

A terrible dread grabbed at his throat. “What extraordinary measures?”

She cleared her throat and lowered her voice as if she were taking him in her confidence with a juicy piece of gossip. “A friend of mine in Texas told me that a very, very wealthy heiress wants to get married and her business manager is screening prospects. I faxed in your information, and I’m happy to say they’re willing to give you a chance to meet her.”

Horrified beyond words, Geoffrey stood. “You’re joking.”

“Not at all,” she said and swept her blonde hair behind one ear. “It’s the perfect solution. If you marry this woman, you can fulfill your father’s request that you take care of Danielle and me and at the same time continue your endless pursuit of your musical career with no pressure.”

“You’ve gone mad. I’m not going to be bartered off like some-some prize cow so you can shop yourself into oblivion.” He raked his hand through his hair. “It’s barbaric.”

Charlene planted her perfectly manicured hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be a pussy. Women have been doing this kind of thing for years. It’s the perfect solution. It’s not as if you even have a love life.” She paused a half beat. “You haven’t gone to the other side, have you?”

Geoffrey stifled a groan. The other side was Charlene’s way of referring to homosexuality. Since Charlene preferred generalizations and Geoffrey had been musical his entire life, he knew the possibility of his being gay lurked in her devious small mind. Being gay right now would come in bloody handy. He was almost tempted… But no, knowing Charlene, she would find another way to torture him.

“Just because I’m heterosexual doesn’t mean I’m a candidate to stud this woman from Texas,” he told her. “If marriage is such a great solution, why don’t you do it again?”

Her eyes widened, and she lifted her hand to her throat in a perfectly choreographed gasp. “I can’t believe you’d suggest that to your father’s wife. You have no heart, no honor.”

Geoffrey looked heavenward for help. Oh, no. Now he would get the martyred-widow speech.

“I was married to your father for twenty years. I took you as my son.”

To his eternal regret.

“I bore him a daughter.”

Charlene had moaned and groaned through the entire nine months.

“We loved each other dearly.”

She’d loved his title dearly.

“I’m not going to marry some woman I’ve never met and live in Texas. You may as well be sending me to hell,” he said. “Besides, she probably wouldn’t find me her type.”

“I’ve already thought of that,” she said with unflattering speed. “I’ve made an appointment with my hairstylist for you. I’ve also arranged a facial for you. Those circles under your eyes are dreadful. We can’t do much about your body on short notice, but we can probably make you look a little more firm with a few hours at the gym and some new clothes. Then all you have to do is try to be charming, which I realize will be a stretch, darling, but I have some reading material for you to peruse between now and Tuesday.”