Almost a Bravo Read online

  She isn’t a true Bravo—

  And now she’s inheriting a temporary husband!

  It’s shocking enough discovering she was switched at birth. Now, to fulfill the terms of his adoptive father’s will, Aislinn Bravo must marry Jaxon Winter or he loses his beloved ranch. Living together as husband and wife for three months only deepens Aislinn’s desire for her longtime crush. But how can she dream of a future with Jax when her whole life is a lie?

  “We still haven’t talked about which bedroom you want to sleep in.”

  Jax’s voice, in the silent room, was suddenly like raw honey poured out slowly.

  Stifling a silly gasp, Aislinn jerked her gaze up. His fine eyes were waiting. He was hiding a smile, damn him. A flush tried to spread upward over her cheeks. She sat straighter and refused to blush or glance away. “What’s to talk about? We hardly know each other.”

  He had those steady eyes on her, pinning her. “We’re married.” He didn’t add, You had a big crush on me once, but to her it seemed the words were there, in the way he looked at her, in that smile he wasn’t quite letting her see. “We’re married,” he said again, as though she hadn’t heard him perfectly well the first time. And then he added, “And I would very much like to share a bed with you.”

  * * *

  THE BRAVOS OF VALENTINE BAY: They’re finding love—and having babies!—in the Pacific Northwest

  Dear Reader,

  Five years ago, when Aislinn Bravo was still in college, she took a summer job at Wild River Ranch not far from Astoria, Oregon. Right away, she developed a hopeless crush on rancher Jaxon Winter, who had no idea of her feelings. Not only was she powerfully attracted to the unavailable rancher, she was constantly on edge whenever she found herself in the presence of Jaxon’s adoptive father, Martin Durand. Mr. Durand had watched her like a hawk and she never could figure out why the old man seemed to dislike her so.

  Aislinn quit the job at Wild River before the summer was through. She never expected to speak to either Jaxon Winter or Martin Durand again. But recently, Durand called her out of the blue to inform her that Jaxon was a free man now. “You can go ahead and make your move,” the old man said, after which Aislinn informed him that she had no idea what he was talking about and to please never call her again.

  Now Aislinn has been summoned to the office of Martin Durand’s lawyer. The old man has died suddenly and Aislinn is mentioned in his will. She’s about to find out she’s not who she thinks she is and that Durand intends for her to have her heart’s desire: Jaxon, whether she’s willing to have the handsome rancher—or not.

  In Almost a Bravo, as in all my books, love and family matter most. I hope that Aislinn and Jaxon’s story reaffirms your belief in true love and in the enduring power of our family connections.

  All my very best,

  Christine

  Almost a Bravo

  Christine Rimmer

  Christine Rimmer came to her profession the long way around. She tried everything from acting to teaching to telephone sales. Now she’s finally found work that suits her perfectly. She insists she never had a problem keeping a job—she was merely gaining “life experience” for her future as a novelist. Christine lives with her family in Oregon. Visit her at christinerimmer.com.

  Books by Christine Rimmer

  Harlequin Special Edition

  The Bravos of Valentine Bay

  The Nanny’s Double Trouble

  The Bravos of Justice Creek

  Married Till Christmas

  Garrett Bravo’s Runaway Bride

  The Lawman’s Convenient Bride

  A Bravo for Christmas

  Ms. Bravo and the Boss

  James Bravo’s Shotgun Bride

  Carter Bravo’s Christmas Bride

  The Good Girl’s Second Chance

  Not Quite Married

  Montana Mavericks: The Lonelyhearts Ranch

  A Maverick to (Re)Marry

  Montana Mavericks: The Great Family Roundup

  The Maverick Fakes a Bride!

  Visit the Author Profile page at www.Harlequin.com for more titles.

  Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!

  Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards

  http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010002

  For MSR, always.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Excerpt from Season of Wonder by RaeAnne Thayne

  Excerpt from Second Chance in Stonecreek by Michelle Major

  Chapter One

  When Jaxon Winter entered the waiting room, every nerve in Aislinn Bravo’s body snapped to high alert. The housekeeper and the grouchy old foreman from Wild River Ranch followed in his wake. Aislinn hardly noticed them. All she saw was Jax.

  He saw her, too. How could he miss her? She was alone in the waiting area and gaping right at him. He gave her that crooked smile, the one she’d never forgotten, the one that tucked a sexy little crease into his left cheek. Too bad there was a crease between his eyebrows, too—a crease that signaled the beginnings of a puzzled frown.

  Aislinn shrank in her chair. She not only knew his crooked smile. She knew that almost-frown of his. He didn’t remember her. And he had no idea why she was gawking at him.

  Stop staring, you idiot!

  She tore her gaze free of his and focused hard on a large framed print of the Cape Disappointment lighthouse mounted on the wall opposite her chair. It was one of those mass-produced prints, the solitary lighthouse silhouetted against a wide, gray sky.

  The print was dead boring in execution, but Aislinn focused on it anyway to keep herself from sneaking another glance at the tall, broad-shouldered rancher with the thick dark hair.

  She heard the brush of footfalls on the carpet as he moved behind her. He spoke quietly to the receptionist. Aislinn stared blindly at that print—until Jax, the ranch foreman and the housekeeper filed into her line of sight and settled into chairs right below the lonely lighthouse.

  Now she was staring over their heads, which felt totally awkward all over again. She shifted her gaze once more—downward this time. To her purse, which she grabbed and switched from her left side to her right.

  That monumental task accomplished, she crossed her legs and smoothed the skirt of her short-sleeved summer-weight dark blue dress with its cute scattering of tiny white polka dots. The dress had taken her forever to choose. She’d settled on it because the conservative cut and dark color paired with the cheery polka dots said “serious, but with a touch of merriment” to her.

  Okay, maybe the merriment part wasn’t exactly appropriate in this situation. But a girl had to have a sense of humor, especially at a time like this.

  Was her face flaming red? It had better not be.

  Stop being weird, she scolded herself. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.

  At least her past obsession with Jaxon Winter was her secret, one she’d shared only with her closest friend, Keely, who would never betray a trust. Unfortunately, old Martin Durand, Jax’s uncle by marriage and also his adoptive father, had known, too.

  That unforgettable summer five years ago, Martin Durand had seemed to make it his personal business to keep an eye on her. He used to watch her as if he suspected she might have
a criminal past or something. At the time, she’d had no idea that Durand had somehow figured out how she felt about Jaxon.

  She’d remained blissfully unaware that the old man knew about her desperate crush until a couple of months ago when Durand had called her out of the blue and announced that Jax’s divorce had been final for a year—just in case she hadn’t heard.

  “He’s free now,” the old man had said. “You can go ahead and make your move.”

  So bizarre.

  At least Martin Durand was never going to say another word about what he knew. According to the letter from his lawyer, he’d died peacefully in his sleep ten days ago. And as for Jaxon, he clearly had no clue that she’d once imagined herself to be hopelessly in love with him.

  He doesn’t know.

  And he would never know.

  And it was going to be fine. It was five years ago—yeah, okay. Back then, she’d shamelessly fantasized that he cared, too. But in real life?

  Uh-uh. The man had been married. He’d been all about keeping his wife happy and he’d hardly known she existed.

  As for her, she was so past all that, so over him.

  Unwisely, she glanced up—and caught him looking at her with that same perplexed frown he’d worn when he walked in the door. Like she was a puzzle piece and he had no idea where she fit.

  This was absurd and she’d had enough of it.

  She rose, squared her shoulders and circled the waiting room’s central coffee table. Jaxon and the old guy, the foreman—Burt, wasn’t it?—got up as she approached. She held out her hand. “Good to see you, Jaxon.”

  His baffled frown got more so. “I’m sorry,” he said in the lovely, low rumble that made her think of tangled sheets and sweaty skin. His eyes were the most beautiful blue swirled with gray, like the sky over the Pacific when the clouds start to gather. He took her hand—just long enough for an utterly unacceptable shiver to slither up her arm. “Do I know you?”

  Her smile felt wide enough to crack her face in half. “Of course, you don’t remember me. I’m Aislinn Bravo. I worked for you one summer...” She turned to the foreman. “Burt, isn’t it?”

  The old guy muttered, “Hiya,” squeezed her fingers in his rough paw and sat back down.

  She aimed a smile at the housekeeper. “Erma, right?”

  “Yes,” said the housekeeper. “Hello.” The older woman reached up and took Aislinn’s hand, too, quickly releasing it.

  “Wait a minute,” said Jax. “I remember now. Ashlinn, but spelled in that odd way...”

  “It’s Irish,” she replied, just as she had that first day five years ago. “People pronounce it several different ways. But yes, I prefer Ashlinn.”

  Jax asked, “Aren’t you the one who just disappeared?”

  Defensiveness made her draw her shoulders back. She faced him squarely. “I left a note.”

  “Yes, you did.” He looked way too damn pleased with himself that he’d actually recalled some college girl who’d spelled her name oddly and then ran off without giving notice. “It’s all coming back to me now. You said in the note that there was a family emergency, that you had to go.”

  “And, um, I did.” Not because of any family crisis, though.

  “I hope it worked out all right?” he asked, his tone sincere and gentle now. Because he was not only hot and manly, he was also a good person who cared about others.

  “Absolutely. Calamity resolved. Nobody died. Everything’s fine now.”

  His frown reappeared. “So you’re here to...?”

  She really didn’t get why she was here. But she shared what she did know. “I got a certified letter from one of the firm’s partners, Kip Anders, to attend the reading of Martin Durand’s will.” Truthfully, that she’d been summoned to the Astoria offices of the old man’s lawyer had made no sense at all to her. First off, she hadn’t known that he’d died. She felt sorry for that, as she would when anyone died. But why would he put her in his will? He hadn’t even liked her—or if he had, he’d had a really strange way of showing it.

  She’d considered just blowing the whole thing off, not coming. If Martin Durand had left her something, somebody could mail it to her.

  Plus, coming here had meant she was setting herself up for just what was happening now: seeing Jaxon again. It shouldn’t be awkward. They’d hardly known each other. Still, she’d had no doubt she would feel uncomfortable. She’d been so right.

  And yet she couldn’t help but be curious. So here she was.

  Burt muttered something under his breath and glared up at her. His unfriendliness didn’t surprise her. During those eight weeks she’d worked at Wild River, the foreman had been almost as squinty-eyed and suspicious of her as old Mr. Durand.

  “I didn’t realize you knew Martin.” Jax eyed her warily now.

  “I didn’t, not really.” She felt overwhelmingly defensive, though she had zero reason to be—at least not concerning Martin Durand. “I met him that summer at the ranch, that’s all. After I quit, I never saw him again.” It was true, but it wasn’t what you would call full disclosure. There’d also been that recent unnerving, out-of-nowhere phone call.

  “Mr. Winter?” Saved by the receptionist. The pretty blonde stood in the arch that led to the inner sanctum. “Everyone.” She beamed a professional smile in their general direction. “Mr. Anders is ready for you now. This way, please.”

  Jaxon gestured Aislinn ahead of him, so she went first. The receptionist led them back to a conference room with a large oval table and a credenza against the wall on which there was a coffee service, including a tray of pastries and doughnuts.

  Kip Anders, a slender, balding guy in rimless glasses and a rumpled tan suit, shook Jax’s hand and introduced himself to the rest of them. “Please,” he said. “Help yourselves to coffee and a bear claw. Get comfortable and we’ll get started.”

  Get comfortable? How long was this going to take? It was a quarter past ten and she’d agreed to help out at her best friend—and now sister-in-law—Keely’s art gallery starting at noon. The gallery was about a half hour away from Astoria, on the Oregon coast, in Aislinn’s hometown of Valentine Bay. This exercise in awfulness couldn’t go more than an hour, could it?

  And seriously, why were they even here? Aislinn had worked for a lawyer’s office not that long ago. At Deever and Gray they never had will readings. Wills were delivered to the parties concerned. A reading of the will only happened in the movies, because it made for good drama.

  Her stomach lurched. Was this about drama, somehow, then?

  Oh, God, she really shouldn’t have come...

  Jax sat at one end of the table. Burt and Erma got coffee and doughnuts and took seats on either side of their boss. Just to have something to do with her hands, Aislinn grabbed a bottle of water. She chose a chair midway down the table. The lawyer took the chair opposite Jax.

  “Before you leave,” said Anders, tweaking his glasses so they sat more firmly on the bridge of his thin nose, “be sure you each get your copy of the will, which will be waiting for you at the reception desk.”

  Aislinn almost popped out with, I think I’ll just grab that now and be on my way.

  But she folded her lips between her teeth, set her water on the table and remained in her chair. She was already here and she could spare an hour. Maybe the will contained some complex terms or strange codicils that Kip Anders would need to explain. The lawyer picked up the first paper on the stack in front of him and began to read.

  Martin Durand had left bequests of money—ten thousand dollars each—and a series of keepsakes for Burt and Erma. Erma wore a tender look. She seemed sad, but also touched that Durand had thought to leave her something. Who could even guess what that sourpuss Burt might be thinking?

  Anders moved on to the next item on the stack. It consisted of several pages paper-clipped together. He removed th
e clip, set it on the table exactly parallel to the rest of the stack and glanced up to make eye contact—with Jax and then with Aislinn.

  “Martin Durand chose to write a letter explaining the main elements of his will,” said the lawyer. “His wish was that I read this letter to you, Jaxon, and to you, Aislinn. He also requested that you, Burt, and you, Erma, be present while the letter is read. As you were longtime and faithful employees at Wild River, Martin felt that all four of you should fully understand what he intended and how it should be carried out. The bequests and conditions explained in this letter are also clearly laid out in his formal last will and testament.” Anders fell silent for an endless count of five.

  Aislinn had the strangest feeling of complete unreality. Her throat felt dry. Sweat bloomed beneath her arms and her pulse raced. She uncapped her water and took a long drink.

  Anders asked, “Any questions?”

  “Just read,” said Jax.

  Anders began, “‘Dear Jaxon and Aislinn, I never intended for you two to know each other.’”

  What?

  Aislinn shot a quick glance around the table.

  Aside from Anders, serene behind his frameless glasses, they all looked as confused as she felt. How could Durand have intended anything when it came to her? He’d never set eyes on her until that summer five years ago.

  Anders continued, “‘The sad truth, Aislinn, is that I spent the first twenty-one years of your life doing everything in my power never to come anywhere near you. I set myself firmly on pretending that you didn’t even exist. And I succeeded for the most part—until five summers ago, when you took the summer job that brought you back to Wild River Ranch.’”

  “Back?” Aislinn couldn’t keep quiet for one second longer. “But I’d never been to Wild River before that summer, so there is no way that I could have—”

  “I know this is bewildering,” Anders cut in mildly. “But if you will allow me to read the letter through to its conclusion, most everything will be explained.”