Rhys stood at the back window staring out at his deck and tried to digest the news he'd gotten during his interview with Rolland Media president, Milford Johnson. Eighty-two-years-old and set in his ways, he put more emphasis on a man's marital status than sales performance. The buyout was in the works, and Rhys would be lucky to keep his business.

That had to be a form of discrimination. Hell, he had the stats to prove his effectiveness in landing clients—million dollar deals and long term contracts. Seemed old man Johnson put more importance on a man's personal life.

Rhys had panicked at the news, cast his moral code aside, and told one untruth. He had a serious girlfriend, with impending matrimony. Not a total lie. He could count on Laken. She'd be happy to reconcile, and there'd be no need to tell her the reason. Have her dress up, bring her to company functions until the deal closed, and he'd be home free.

He pushed the worry from his mind, focused on the rack of wood, and wondered if the weather would ever get cold enough to burn all he'd cut during the summer. He'd prepared for it, but Mother Nature wasn't cooperating. It'd be Halloween in two days, and if the warm temperatures kept up, trees would sprout leaves again. Georgia was one crazy state when it came to seasons.

The sound of a car got his attention, but before he could make it to the front porch, Val opened the door and rushed in with both kids and Ace right behind.

"Hey, the girls wanted to fish in your pond, if that's okay," Val said.

"Sure. You know where the poles and bait are, so make yourselves at home." Rhys grabbed his two nieces as they tried to run past and scrubbed their heads. "I'll give five dollars to the one who catches the biggest fish."

"Then, let me go!" Olive screamed.

"No need to hurry, loser, because I'll be the winner," Effy said.

"Elizabeth Jacqueline McDowell! Don't call your sister a loser," Ace said.

Rhys released them, and the girls headed to the back, first taking time to stop and pet Guinivere, sprawled in her favorite spot soaking up the sunshine.

Effy looked at her mother and grinned, then pressed her fingers against her forehead, formed an "L," and pointed toward Olive.

"Hey, no silent name-calling either, Sassy Butt, or you won't get to fish." Ace narrowed her eyes, grimaced for effect, and Rhys chuckled at the warning.

She turned her frown toward him. "You're not helping."

"Sorry. You're so—menacing."

"Shut up. It won't be long until they don't fear me anymore, so I have to get my bluff in while I can. But on the bright side, when that happens, I'll send them to live with you. Give you a chance to use your untapped daddy skills."

"You're funny." The reference to his parent status caused him to ponder the challenge facing him. He considered asking his sister about the possibility of a lawsuit if he got passed over due to being single, but thought better of it. He'd call Laken later to put his plan in motion.

Ace smiled and pulled a manilla folder from her purse. "You remember me telling you there was a woman I wanted you to date?"

"Which one? There are so many I can't keep track."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be a prat. The one I said was perfect. Dark hair. Brown eyes. Anyway, you agreed if I got a picture of her, you'd consider asking her out. Val and Jethro shot a wedding a few days ago, and she was there, so I had them take some photos with her in them." Ace slid the prints from the sleeve. "Here's one of her standing so that you can get a good look at her. Nice, huh?"

He took the 5x7 and stared at it with interest. "She is hot."

"Here's one at the reception, it has a better view of her face."

He stacked the snapshot on top of the other one, glared at it for a moment, then his mouth dropped open. "Sonovabitch! That's her!"

"Of course, it's her. I told you..."

"No. Not her. This one." He pointed at a table behind the woman. "That's Elia Green. From the bar a few months back. Whose wedding is this? Where was it?"

"Your Memorial Day Elia? Are you sure?"

"Hell, yes. Let me see the rest of the pictures." He grabbed the stack and shuffled through them, stopping to study each one.

"We can pull all the photos up on Val's site. I brought these just because they had Danielle in them."

Rhys got his laptop and logged in then passed it to Ace. "Find the file."

"Okay." She talked as she worked. "It was the Silva-Diaz wedding in the ballrooms at Westin Peachtree Plaza. If you ever get married, you should have your ceremony there. The place is gorgeous. The view is unbelievable. I wish Val and I could've tied the knot there, but it was booked solid for two years." She paused and shoved the laptop toward him, then leaned over his shoulder. "Here. You can scroll through all of them."

One by one, he searched each print until he found a closeup. "Holy shit."

Ace leaned in. "Is that her? The one in the purple dress?"

"Yeah, and see that woman sitting across from her?"

Ace nodded. "I remember them. I actually talked to Elia in the bathroom. Who is the other one?"

Rhys folded his arms across his chest. "Darcy Danvers. She works in Human Resources at my company. I can't believe it. I've been looking for Elia, and she's friends with one of my coworkers all this time. Now I have a way to find her."

"That's weird. If they're friends, surely Elia told Darcy about you. I mean, you told Elia where you worked, right?"

Worry lines formed in Rhys's forehead. "Yeah. That is odd."

"Unless—she didn't tell her because it would put her friend in an awkward situation. Especially if Elia didn't plan to see you again."

He considered the possibility, then shook his head. "No. This is weird. If you're friends with someone and only in town for a few days, why not spend time with them? Especially women. Don't y'all have some kind of secret girl code?"

"More of a best friend code where we share everything."

"Yeah, so why weren't they together at the bar? Darcy gave us tickets. Why would she send her friend there alone? That's a logical question, right?"

Ace frowned, took the stool next to her brother, and counted off on her fingers. "May to June, July, August, September, and October. Oh, shit."

"What's wrong?" He turned toward his sister. All the color had gone out of her face.

"She's pregnant. We were talking in the bathroom, right? I asked how far along she was. Rhys, that baby could be yours."

He shook his head. "Not possible. It was a revenge fuck, so I might not have been the only one. Besides, I wore a condom every time but one. There's no way."

"Hate to break the news to you, but the only thing one-hundred percent safe is abstinence. Have you forgotten your junior high sex education class?"

From the moment of his sister's announcement, everything blurred. He barely remembered awarding the five-dollar prize or saying goodbye to his nieces and sister in law. The words she's pregnant pounded in his head like a ball-peen hammer beating metal, which made sense because his lungs felt flat, and as hard as he struggled, he couldn't get enough air to inflate them.

There was no guarantee the baby was his. Maybe she had slept with other men after breaking up with her ex. She may have been pregnant when they hooked up. Either way, it now made sense why she'd not contacted him. Or did it? Well, if the kid wasn't his, it'd be logical to never hear from her again, so maybe the father was someone else. He'd assume that for now, but in the morning, he'd find out what was going on.

The next day, he got to work early and watched the clock until he saw Darcy get off the elevator. He'd been up most of the night and was in a pissy mood. He didn't give her time to get coffee; he marched into her office with the picture in hand.

She glanced over her shoulder at him from the coat rack, where she hung her jacket. "Good morning, how'd your interview go?"

He didn't sit. Just fisted one hand, and with the other, threw the photo onto her desk. "I'm not here about that. Tell me about her." He jabbed a finger on Elia's image.

Darcy paled and collapsed into her chair. "Oh, God. I told her this would happen." She covered her face with her hands and mumbled something he couldn't understand.

"What'd you say?"

Sliding her hands away, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. For a moment, she didn't speak, and Rhys's patience wore thin. "I want an answer. And I want it now."

She opened her eyes and stared at him. "I told her you'd find out. But she said there was no way. It wasn't even supposed to be you. She picked Devon, but then the idiot bartender gave the drink to you."

He sank into the chair. "I don't understand. She chose Devon for what?"

Darcy stared but said nothing.

"Darcy? For what?"

She clutched her throat and struggled for breath. "A baby. But Arryn isn't a bad person."

"Arryn? Her name isn't Elia?"

"No."

"So, she meant to get pregnant?"

"No—I mean yes—no."

Rhys slammed his fist on the desk. "What's going on?"

She flinched. "She poked holes in some condoms. But when you got the drink, she changed her mind about using them. But then you didn't have one. Good God, Rhys. What kind of red-blooded single man doesn't carry damn protection with him? Especially if he's going to a bar?"

"One who doesn't make a habit of hooking up with strange women." He ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the ends. "Damn. You gave us the tickets. I can't believe this. You set up the whole thing."

Leaning forward, she thrust her hands out. "I was setting up Devon. You were a mistake."

"Great," he seethed. "She knew there was a chance she'd get pregnant and didn't tell me?"

"Not until after...you know. She wasn't sure you'd gotten one of the bad ones until she checked them. Then she wanted to tell you, but she'd already lied so much, she didn't know what to do."

"Does she live in Orlando?"

Darcy wagged her head.

"Work for a medical supply company?"

Again, a no.

"Holy shit. Did she tell the truth about anything?"

"She liked you. She's been sad that she couldn't see you again."

"Yeah, I bet she has. So she lives here?"

"Yes."

"The girlfriend break up?"

"True."

"She sure the kid is mine?"

"Yes. You were the only one she slept with. What are you going to do?"

"Haven't decided yet. Give me her full name and address."

"No. Not until you tell me what you're going to do with her."

He slammed his fist down on the desk again. This time harder. Then he rose and leaned over until he was inches from her face. "Give me her goddamn name and address."

Darcy shook all over, then reached for a pen and paper. With trembling fingers, she jotted on it, then passed the note to him. He hated raising his voice, but he was at the end of his rope, and Darcy had been a part of his scheme.

He folded the slip, put it in his pocket, and pointed his finger at her. "You listen and listen good. If you tell Elia or Arryn or whoever the hell she is about this meeting. Warn her in any way, and you'll suffer the consequences. Do you understand?"

She flinched. "Not if you're going to hurt her."

It was his turn to rear back. Jeez, had he scared her that bad to think he'd possibly harm Elia... Arryn? "I wouldn't lay a hand on her. I just don't want to give her time to come up with more lies."

She paused, considering. "I can't keep this a secret forever."

"That's rich. It seems you're damn good at it. You stay quiet until I say otherwise." He turned, stomped from the room, and went to Melissa's desk. "I may be out of the office all week. Move my appointments."

"Sure, hon. Is anything wrong?"

"Something's wrong, all right, but I'm going to fix it."

Here comes trouble.

Our girl Arryn is in a world of shit.

TEASER: "Okay, but I'm going on record to say you'll regret this."

Wonder whose talking, and about what?