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  For the first time since she’d come home, Hallie smiled. “Can I have twenty minutes to pack?”

  Jared grinned. “I’ll call the pilot, delay the flight, and you can have thirty.”

  Hallie went to her luggage, which Shelly had filled with her own clothes, emptied the contents onto the floor, and pulled out her things that her stepsister had “borrowed.” She looked at Jared. “If Shelly wanted to do this, that means your cousin Jamie must be either gorgeous or rich—or both.”

  Jared shrugged. “I don’t know about gorgeous. He’s short and stocky, just a kid, really, but his stepmother is the writer Cale Anderson.”

  Hallie nodded. “Rich. I thought so. I’ll be ready in twenty-five minutes.”

  Chapter One

  BOSTON AIRPORT

  Even the sight of the private jet she was to take to the island of Nantucket didn’t cheer Hallie up. The interior was tan leather and dark wood, beautifully elegant, and she and Jared were the only passengers. She hoped that the trip would distract her from her thoughts. Before a few hours ago she would have sworn that her stepsister was incapable of doing something so treacherous, as well as illegal. The forged passport, the planned meeting with the famous architect, and the contract signed in an imitation of Hallie’s handwriting all ran through her mind.

  On the way to the airport she’d asked Jared how he’d first contacted her, and he said he’d sent an overnight package. Hallie’s guess was that Shelly accepted delivery, opened the envelope, read the contents, and decided to take what wasn’t hers.

  Hallie thought about what would have happened if she hadn’t returned home unexpectedly. Would she have come home from work to find an empty house and a note from her stepsister saying she’d decided to leave town? How long would it have taken her to find out about her stolen inheritance?

  When they were on the plane, Jared made sure she was belted into a seat, the thick folder of papers on her lap and a glass of champagne beside her. As soon as they were aloft, he stepped away to make some calls, and Hallie started reading about why she’d been left property by a stranger. It seemed that she had an ancestor, Leland Hartley, who had been married to Juliana Bell, whose family—including her sister, Hyacinth—originally owned the house. At the sight of her own unusual name, her interest was piqued. Was this her ancestor? But, no, poor Juliana and her sister had died before either of them had children. Leland Hartley had returned to Boston, remarried, and had one son. Hallie was descended from him. Henry, the man who’d willed the house to Hallie, was descended from the Bell side. He had no immediate family so he’d left everything to Miss Hyacinth Lauren Hartley, aka Hallie.

  Henry had composed a genealogy chart that traced Leland down to Hallie. She unfolded the long paper and read the names and dates. There was her mother’s death when Hallie was four, and her father’s remarriage when she was eleven. It ended with the death of her father and Ruby—Shelly’s mother—in a car accident when Hallie was in her second year of college and Shelly was still in high school.

  Jared returned to his seat. “Do you understand about the inheritance?”

  “I think so,” Hallie answered. “But I’m not a blood relative of Henry Bell.”

  “I know,” Jared said, “but on Nantucket we take relationships—however tenuous—seriously. And by the way, Henry left his house to you specifically, not to your father. No matter what your stepsister claims, she has no right to it. I was sincere when I said that if you want to take legal action for her attempted theft, I’ll pay all costs.” He took a breath. “I’m especially sorry that I helped put a patient in the house without your actual permission. Shelly had given her permission in your name, of course, but now I know she isn’t you. If you want me to send him away, just let me know. I’ll make a call and he won’t be there when we land.”

  “Thank you,” Hallie said.

  She looked down at the folder. In the back were some medical notes about her patient, James Michael Taggert, nicknamed Jamie, but they were brief and not very informative. But then Hallie had heard everything before when Shelly was quizzing her about her injured friend. Hallie didn’t want to imagine what would have happened to the man without proper care.

  Mostly the papers were about the excellent financial terms being offered to her for rehabilitating this one young man. She’d be able to make her mortgage payments on the house her father had left her outside Boston as well as put food on the table in Nantucket.

  When she glanced up at Jared, he seemed to be hard at work, either with the papers or tapping out messages on his phone. At one point he said, “My wife, Alix, says hi and that she very much wants to meet you.”

  “Me too,” Hallie said, and wondered what his wife was like. He was famous, so he probably had married some elegant blonde who spent all his money maintaining her beauty.

  It was at lunch—perfectly cooked chicken and salad served by a young woman attendant—that she asked Jared who owned the jet they were on. When he said “Jamie’s family,” Hallie nodded. It looked like her patient was indeed some rich kid. He’d gone skiing, probably in some exotic locale, and torn his knee. Since his family could afford anything on earth, he was being given his own private therapist. Jared had told her that his family had even put in a private gym for the rehabilitation work. No being one of many for him!

  “What’s this guy like?” she asked. “I mean his personality.”

  Jared shrugged. “He’s a distant cousin of mine, but I don’t really know him. I’ve dealt with his father. I only saw the boy from a distance. He seems to always be surrounded by his family.”

  Hallie nodded and thought, Rich and spoiled. Everything always handed to him.

  “There’s still time to call,” Jared said.

  “I think I’ll give it a try and see how it works out.”

  They talked about the physical therapist job Hallie was due to start at a small local hospital, and she told Jared that she’d call and turn it down. Since they had a waiting list, she didn’t feel guilty about it. He said he’d have his super-efficient secretary take care of it for her, and she thanked him.

  “You’re taking all of this very well,” Jared said. “With great sportsmanship.”

  She smiled at the compliment. A lifetime with her stepmother and Shelly had taught Hallie how to hide her emotions.

  When they landed, in spite of her bravado, Hallie began to feel nervous about what was coming. While it was exciting to think of the adventure before her, it was also terrifying. At twenty-six years old, she’d lived in one house all her life, had gone to college nearby, and had been about to accept a job that was close to her home. She was leaving behind people she’d known since she was born—and that included Braden. She reminded herself that it was her choice whether or not this was permanent.

  In the little Nantucket airport, she stood to one side and waited for Jared to finish talking to people. Whereas the experience of flying on a private jet was awe-inspiring to her, it didn’t seem to be unusual on the island. In fact, three other privately owned jets had arrived at nearly the same time, and Jared and Hallie’s flight had needed to wait for permission to land. Jared was talking to passengers from the other planes, to the baggage handlers, to the pilots, and to a man who seemed to be the manager of the airport. As far as Hallie could tell, he knew every person within sight. This was certainly different from Boston!

  Abruptly, Jared turned from them and walked quickly to Hallie. “Come on, let’s go. A tourist plane is landing.” He sounded as though a tsunami was about to hit. He put his hand at her lower back and ushered her out of the airport into bright sunshine and the clean, salty air of Nantucket.

  It wasn’t until they were in Jared’s truck that reality began to hit Hallie. The vehicle was old and beat-up, and something about it seemed real. The world of the leather-upholstered BMW Jared drove and the private jet was too foreign to her to allow her to think clearly. But now she was grasping the truth of all of it. She was on her way to a house she’d never s