The hardest thing is doing what’s right
Nathan Devereux’s parenting days are over. He raised his siblings, and now he’s ready to start living a life free of responsibility. After the year he’s had, he deserves it. But when the daughter he never knew existed and her way too tempting guardian, Emma Sloan, show up, his plans go out the window.
Nathan can’t ignore his daughter…or Emma. Yet having a relationship with them means giving up what he’s worked for. Worse, his past is sneaking up behind him and could threaten them all. He faces a choice he’s not sure he can make—or even wants to. Turn his back on Emma and his daughter? Or bend the rules to protect them? Either way, their future is at stake.
“I think you’re the one who’ll charm her.”
Emma said the words softly as she thought about the evening they’d met. Nathan’s smile had made her toes curl. “Just like you charmed me.”
His eyes darkened as he stared at her. “When was that, Emma? I haven’t exactly been Mr. Suave lately.”
In the quiet of the stairwell, his low voice echoed off the walls and felt like a caress. “The night we met,” she said. “Before Harley came to live with me.”
“What would have happened?” She didn’t see him move, but he was closer to her. “If Sonya hadn’t died? If Harley hadn’t come to live with you?”
The weak winter sun streaming in through the windows turned his eyes into silvery-blue pools, deep and mysterious.
“I think...” She took a deep breath, trying to draw air into her suddenly tight chest. “I would have called you,” she whispered. She wanted to lean closer. To test the fragile connection they’d woven between them.
Dear Reader,
One of the things I love about making up stories is that I can put my characters into impossible situations, then sit back and watch them squirm. And that’s just what I did in Bending the Rules—start with a woman who desperately wants to adopt the child she’s caring for, mix in the child’s biological father, who wants to do the right thing, but isn’t sure what that is, and season with an attraction that complicates everything.
Emma Sloan loves Harley Michaels fiercely and completely. She wants nothing more than to adopt the girl and make a family with her. But Nathan Devereux has just learned that he’s the girl’s father. She may be his daughter, but he’s not sure how to handle this new family member. He’s in a dangerous situation right now—he’s in no position to welcome a child into his life. And Harley wants to stay with Emma. But Nathan is not going to simply sign away his parental rights. In the Devereux clan, family is everything.
I hope you enjoy reading Emma and Nathan’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Happy reading!
I love to hear from my readers! Please visit my website, www.margaretwatson.com or contact me at [email protected].
Yours,
Margaret Watson
Bending the Rules
Margaret Watson
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Margaret Watson has always made up stories in her head. When she started actually writing them down, she realized she’d found exactly what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. More than twenty years after staring at that first blank page, she’s an award-winning, two-time RITA® Award finalist who has written more than thirty books for Harlequin. When she’s not writing or spending time with her family, she practices veterinary medicine. Although she enjoys that job, writing is her passion. Margaret lives in a Chicago suburb with her husband and three daughters and a menagerie of pets.
Books by Margaret Watson
HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE
1205—TWO ON THE RUN
1258—HOMETOWN GIRL
1288—IN HER DEFENSE
1337—FAMILY FIRST
1371—SMALL-TOWN SECRETS
1420—SMALL-TOWN FAMILY
1508—A PLACE CALLED HOME*
1531—NO PLACE LIKE HOME*
1554—HOME AT LAST*
1608—AN UNLIKELY SETUP
1638—CAN’T STAND THE HEAT?
1673—LIFE REWRITTEN
1696—FOR BABY AND ME
1768—A SAFE PLACE
1804—THE WOMAN HE KNOWS
*The McInnes Triplets
Other titles by this author available in ebook format.
Don’t miss any of our special offers. Write to us at the following address for information on our newest releases.
Harlequin Reader Service U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269 Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
For Meg, my charismatic, dazzling and extraordinary daughter.
You’ve grown into an amazing woman, and I am so proud of you.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
NATHAN DEVEREUX SCOWLED as he hung the handicapped placard from his rearview mirror. He hated handicapped parking. But if he didn’t take this spot, he’d have to park a couple of blocks away. That much walking and his leg would hurt like a son of a bitch by the time he got home.
Which meant that physical therapy tomorrow would be difficult. Less effective.
Slamming the car door, he limped to the front of FreeZone. Bright lights illuminated the interior of his sister’s teen center, and the groups of people mingling. Frankie and her fiancé, Cal, were laughing and talking in the middle of one of them.
Nathan’s dark mood slipped away. Frankie deserved this happiness. She deserved to have all her dreams come true.
“It’s not that scary, is it?” a low voice asked behind him.
He turned to see a tall woman standing behind him, smiling. Her blond hair was a mass of curls around her face, and dangly silver earrings peeked out of the curls. A tan scarf was intricately wrapped around her neck, and her brown eyes twinkled. “No teens in there right now. It’s safe.”
“Right. Because I can actually hear what you’re saying.” He held the door and watched her walk in ahead of him. Her black leather jacket clung to her curves, and her jeans-clad hips swayed. Her scent was citrusy and sweet. “I was just admiring the, um, the way Frankie and Cal pulled this place together.” As the woman turned to face him, he cleared his throat and forced his gaze back to her face.
&nb
sp; “You must be a friend of theirs, then. Most of the donors never saw the old place.”
The blonde’s low voice and direct gaze washed over him. The noise in the room faded. “Frankie’s brother,” he said, holding out his hand. “Nathan Devereux.”
“Emma Sloan.” Her hand was slender and cool, and her grip firm. “I work with Frankie occasionally.”
Her eyes were the color of honey. They met his for a moment that stretched a little too long. When she gently tugged her hand away, he released her. “Good to meet you, Emma.”
“You, too. Frankie has a bunch of brothers, doesn’t she?”
“Three of us,” Nathan said, his gaze lingering on those expressive eyes. “Which Frankie says is way too many. She claims we’re overprotective.”
“Nice to have someone on your side,” Emma said lightly, but a momentary shadow swam behind her clear gaze.
“Feel free to remind Frankie of that,” he said, wondering about the shadow.
Nathan registered the murmur of voices, the clink of champagne glasses passed by waiters and the slam of an air-hockey puck hitting the sides of the table. But he could focus on nothing but the woman in front of him.
The moment stretched out. Emma broke the eye contact and unzipped her coat. A swirly patterned aqua and green V-necked shirt covered soft curves. A silver pendant with a cutout pattern nestled above a hint of cleavage.
Nathan wanted to lean closer and examine the pendant.
“It’s nice that you could come to Frankie’s open house,” Emma said in a husky voice.
“I wouldn’t have missed it.” He tore his attention away from Emma and glanced at Frankie, dressed in a blue suit and wearing heels. Even her spiky hair was under control. “Although I want to know who stole my sister and put that businesswoman in her place.”
Emma followed his gaze and smiled. “Yeah. She cleans up nicely.”
She glanced at him, and neither of them spoke for a beat. “Well,” he began.
“Nice to have met you,” she said at the same time.
They both smiled, and Emma gestured toward Frankie and Cal. “I guess I should say hello.”
“Yeah. Right. I’ll, ah, talk to you later?”
“I’d like that.” She held his gaze for a moment, then turned and walked toward his sister. Maybe it was the heels she wore that made her hips sway like that. Whatever the reason, he admired the result all the way across the room.
“I know that woman.” Darcy, his brother Patrick’s fiancée, looped her arm through his and stared at Emma. “Can’t remember how, though.”
“She said she works with Frankie. Her name is Emma Sloan.” She was laughing at something Frankie said, gesturing with her hands.
“You look smitten, Nathan,” Darcy said, grinning.
“I don’t even know her.” He yanked on his tie. “We walked in the door together. Of course we introduced ourselves.”
Darcy nudged him with her elbow. “Really? I guess you’re all googly-eyed because you’re awed at what your sister did with this place, then.” She tugged at his arm. “Come sit down. You can admire...Frankie’s place from the couch.”
Nathan allowed her to lead him to one of the new, denim-colored couches, where Patrick was sitting. “Your fiancée has gotten real bossy, Patrick.”
“You have no idea,” Patrick said with a secret smile at Darcy.
“TMI, Paddy,” Nathan said hastily. Patrick and Darcy leaned into each other as Nathan lowered himself carefully to the couch. He was thrilled that Patrick and Darcy had found each other, just as he was happy for Frankie and Cal, who were getting married in the spring. So what if it underlined his own loneliness? His problem. Not theirs.
Time to focus on something else. “How’s the investigation going?”
Patrick’s smile faded. “We came here to help Frankie celebrate. Let’s not spoil the mood by talking about the case.”
“Trust me—you’re not going to spoil anything.” The whole mess was never far from Nathan’s thoughts—especially his responsibility for what had happened. “Just fill me in.”
Patrick sighed. “Can’t you let it go for one night?”
“Humor me, Paddy.” He held up his left arm, still weak from the accident. “Or do I need to arm wrestle you for information?”
Patrick rolled his eyes. “We’re stalled, okay?” He rested his elbows on his knees. “Alderman O’Fallon may be in jail, but he still won’t talk, and neither will anyone else. It’s as if the guy who gave O’Fallon the money is a ghost. Anyone who can hide like that has a lot of juice. It’s not going to be easy.”
“You’re a forensic accountant for the FBI. There must be some way to follow the money.”
“We’re working on it. But they’re not stupid. They know how to cover their tracks. It’s not going to be easy unless we can get someone to crack. So far, that hasn’t happened.”
“I’m doing a little digging on my own. I gotta find this guy.”
Patrick leaned toward him. “You ever hear ‘don’t do this at home, boys and girls’? This isn’t your job, Nate. Leave it to the professionals.”
“Yeah, it is my job,” Nathan said quietly. “I’m the one who screwed up. I’m the one who took the money. Now I have to make it right.”
“You’re being way too hard on yourself. Yeah, you made a mistake. We all did. We’re fixing it, and now we’re moving on. We’re all moving on.”
“You do your thing and I’ll do mine,” Nathan said.
He eased back on the couch and accepted the glass of champagne a waiter offered him. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t make this right. He’d almost destroyed the family restaurant because he’d thought he was smart enough to make a sketchy deal and not pay the price.
Last winter, when he’d needed to remodel the restaurant kitchen, he hadn’t been able to get a loan from a bank. Knowing that the building inspectors would close Mama’s Place if he didn’t remodel, he’d gone to his alderman—in Chicago, the alderman was the guy who made things happen. The go-to guy for bureaucratic problems.
The guy who could find a bank willing to lend money when others had refused.
Alderman O’Fallon had offered Nathan a special deal—he could get financing from a private individual. The interest rate would be higher than a bank’s, but he’d get his money. Nathan had been so desperate that he’d agreed. And he’d been careful not to ask where the money came from.
His whole family had gotten sucked into the mess. Worst of all, because his brother Patrick had been distracted by the problem Nathan created, Darcy had almost been killed.
He’d known the deal with the alderman was suspect, but he’d taken it anyway. So there was no way he was going to sit back and let his brother handle it for him. He’d taken the money. He was going to find out who had given it to him.
“Here’s a news flash, Nate.” Patrick leaned over Darcy to get in his face. “Until we find out who gave O’Fallon the money, we don’t even know if a crime has been committed. Maybe the ghost paid taxes on the interest he got from you. Maybe it was just a benefactor who wanted to help you out.”
“Yeah, and maybe I’m really George Clooney in disguise,” Nathan retorted.
Darcy pushed the two men apart. “Hey, Nate, Emma looks like she’d pick you over Clooney any day.”
Distracted, Nathan glanced toward Frankie. Emma, standing on the edge of the group surrounding his sister, was sipping a glass of champagne an
d watching him. When their eyes met, she turned away. But not before he saw her flush.
“Fine,” Nathan muttered, not looking at Patrick. “Let it drop.” For tonight, anyway. He’d harmed the family and almost lost the restaurant. The FBI could investigate out the wazoo. He’d work his own contacts in the neighborhood.
No way had that loan been legal.
He’d known that when he took the money.
So what did that make him?
“I’m going to say hello to Frankie,” he said, pushing himself off the couch.
“You sure it’s Frankie you want to say hello to?” Darcy asked.
When Nathan glanced at her, she was grinning. “Funny, Darce.”
As he walked away, she called after him, “I just want you to be happy, Nate.”
Finding the guy who’d given him the money would make him happy. Being sure his family was safe would make him happy, too. So would getting away from the restaurant after everything was settled. He was going to Italy, and he was staying for a while.
Emma Sloan?
It had been a while since he’d felt the kind of spark that had arced between him and Emma. Any other time, he’d want to pursue it.
Right now, he had too many other things going on.
As he got closer, she laughed at something Frankie said.
Maybe he could find the time.
* * *
EMMA WATCHED NATHAN limp slowly toward her. His gait was uncertain, as if he were getting used to walking again. She’d noticed how carefully he’d moved earlier, and she wondered how he’d been injured.
“That’s my brother Nate,” Frankie said in her ear, and Emma started. Had she been that obvious?
“He was hit by a car a few months ago,” Frankie continued. “Nasty breaks in his arm and leg. The casts came off a couple of weeks ago. I told him to stay home tonight and put the leg up, but he never listens to me.”
“I, ah, met him earlier.” She glanced at Frankie. “He sounds pretty proud of you. Of course he wanted to come.”
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