Читать книгу: «The Firstborn»

A man bent over the intense heat of a forge…

The stranger appeared single-minded in his devotion to his craft, as if chained there by the fire and his work, pounding at some inner demon only he could see. Hayley found herself moving stealthily closer, drawn by the rhythmic force of his blows, awed by the beauty they were creating.

She was certain she hadn’t made a sound, but without warning he turned. Hayley froze.

“Who the devil are you?” he demanded gruffly. The heat of his gaze was far hotter than his fire. His voice was deep and soft as crushed velvet. A tingle traveled up Hayley’s spine.

“I’d be careful calling on the devil if I were you. You already look like you’re standing over the fires of hell.”

The man blinked in surprise. The corners of his lips darted upward for a second, but the hint of a smile disappeared before it could fully form.

“A good reason for you to run away, little girl.”

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

Beginning this October, Harlequin Intrigue has expanded its lineup to six books! Publishing two more titles each month enables us to bring you an extraordinary selection of breathtaking stories of romantic suspense filled with exciting editorial variety—and we encourage you to try all that we have to offer.

Stock up on catnip! Caroline Burnes brings back your favorite feline sleuth to beckon you into a new mystery in the popular series FEAR FAMILIAR. This four-legged detective sticks his whiskers into the mix to help clear a stunning stuntwoman’s name in Familiar Double. Up next is Dani Sinclair’s new HEARTSKEEP trilogy starting with The Firstborn—a darkly sensual gothic romance that revolves around a sinister suspense plot. To lighten things up, bestselling Harlequin American Romance author Judy Christenberry crosses her beloved BRIDES FOR BROTHERS series into Harlequin Intrigue with Randall Renegade—a riveting reunion romance that will keep you on the edge of your seat.

Keeping Baby Safe by Debra Webb could either passionately reunite a duty-bound COLBY AGENCY operative and his onetime lover—or tear them apart forever. Don’t miss the continuation of this action-packed series. Then Amy J. Fetzer launches our BACHELORS AT LARGE promotion featuring fearless men in blue with Under His Protection. Finally, watch for Dr. Bodyguard by debut author Jessica Andersen. Will a hunky doctor help penetrate the emotional walls around a lady genius before a madman closes in?

Pick up all six for a complete reading experience you won’t forget!

Enjoy,

Denise O’Sullivan

Senior Editor

Harlequin Intrigue

The Firstborn
Dani Sinclair

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Helen Pastis whose caring has no limits.

For Roger, Chip, Dan and Barb.

With heartfelt thanks to

Natashya Wilson and Judy Fitzwater.

You’re both terrific.

Special thanks to Judy Boone for answering my questions,

and to her husband, Daniel,

whose family of blacksmiths

traces back fifteen generations.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

An avid reader, Dani Sinclair didn’t discover romance novels until her mother lent her one when she had come for a visit. Dani’s been hooked on the genre ever since. But she didn’t take up writing seriously until her two sons were grown. Since the premiere of Mystery Baby for Harlequin Intrigue in 1996, Dani has kept her computer busy. Her third novel, Better Watch Out, was a RITA^® Award finalist in 1998. Dani lives outside Washington, D.C., a place she’s found to be a great source for both intrigue and humor!

You can write to her in care of the Harlequin Reader Service.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Dennison Hart—He made sure Heartskeep would stay in the family. It didn’t occur to him he was setting them up to be victims.

Amy Hart Thomas—When her father died seven years ago, she disappeared without a trace….

Marcus Thomas—He married his nurse as soon as he had his first wife declared legally dead.

Eden Voxx Thomas—She doesn’t care what the world thinks. She married Marcus and she intends to run Heartskeep as she sees fit.

Hayley Hart Thomas—As the firstborn, she inherits. But only if she survives long enough to claim her inheritance.

Bram Myers—The sexy blacksmith was hired to put bars on the windows and doors. But is he a safe haven or the source of the storm?

Leigh Hart Thomas—Hayley’s twin is in England visiting with friends. Isn’t she?

Jacob Voxx—Everyone likes Eden’s son. Everyone except Bram.

Odette Norwhich—Eden’s newly hired cook has an attitude problem—and total access to Heartskeep.

Paula Kerstairs—Eden’s newly hired housekeeper moves like a wraith through the mansion hearing more than she should.

George and Emily Walken—These neighbors and close friends of the family have taken in troubled youths for years.

Helen Pepperton Myers—Did her death in childbirth precipitate a plan for revenge?

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

HEARTSKEEP is a series I’ve been developing for several years. The idea grew from an actual home where the front parlor had been converted into a doctor’s office. The house fired my imagination. There was a sense of tiredness about the sprawling old building, as if it had seen too much of life over the years. What secrets might it hide?

I don’t know about the real house, but Heartskeep has many secrets. When Hayley Thomas arrives to claim her inheritance, she discovers a dark, formidable structure—much like the compelling stranger she finds working with such fierce intensity in the woods out back. Who is this man? Why does he stir such strong emotions in her? Nothing is the way she remembers. Is she losing her mind as well as her heart? Step into Heartskeep and find out for yourself.

Happy reading!

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 One

Almost home.

Hayley Thomas suppressed a shudder. Heartskeep hadn’t been home since the day her mother disappeared more than seven years ago. The sprawling estate along the Hudson River was the envy of many, but only because it appeared so rich and serene on the surface.

The canopy of tree limbs overhead darkened the final road home, matching her mood as she sped through the sleepy hamlet of Stony Ridge, New York. As she plunged deeper into horse country, the scenery changed yet again, to velvety green fields basking in the fading sun. The unusually intense heat wave of early June hadn’t yet taken its toll, but soon enough the lush green would turn a scorched golden-brown.

Rolling her head to stretch the kinks from her neck and shoulders, Hayley was relieved to finally come upon the lane leading to Heartskeep until she turned into the wide-mouthed entrance. She braked the car to a jarring halt.

What had he done?

Hayley tried to still the clamor of her heart as she stepped from the idling car and stared in disbelief. Towering brick pillars had replaced the shorter, crumbling ones on which two stone lions had perched, standing guard for more than sixty years. Spanning the new pillars was an intricately worked, yet formidable wrought-iron gate, closed against intruders.

Marcus didn’t really believe he could bar her from her own family home with a metal gate. Did he?

Shaking in outrage, Hayley strode up to the wrought-iron fixture. Both the art major and the business major in her appreciated the fascinating piece. Another time, she would have enjoyed examining the artistry and craftsmanship that had gone into creating this incredible gate. The work was like nothing she’d seen before. But now, its unexpected presence caused a surge of pure anger.

What had Marcus done with her lions?

He had no right!

Hayley rattled the gate in a rare explosion of temper. Only then did she realize it wasn’t locked. With effort, the bar that held the massive gates closed could be lifted and slid aside from where she stood. Still, she pulsed with anger as the gates swung open smoothly. She was not a child anymore. She would not let her own father intimidate her by putting a gate in front of her house.

Darn it, Marcus was the outsider here at Heartskeep, and it was definitely past time to tell him so. Out of respect for her mother, Hayley had never challenged his right to live here. Not even when he’d remarried. But this was going too far. This gate was a deliberate slap in her face. He was staking his claim and daring her to take exception.

Fine. She would accept his challenge, and she’d be the one to come out the winner. According to the law, Heartskeep belonged to her. Removing the gate and reinstalling her stone lions had just become her first priority when she assumed control of the estate.

The small car bounced hard as she drove recklessly up the tree-lined driveway. If Marcus had finally felt a compulsion to do something around the estate, why hadn’t he started by making some badly needed repairs? This driveway was a disgrace. The ruts were deeper and more numerous than she remembered from her last visit. Hayley hoped she didn’t break an axle or some other essential item on the car, even as she pushed the compact relentlessly over the pitted surface. She was anxious now for the confrontation to come.

She’d spent most of her life treading warily around the man who was her biological father. She and her twin sister had learned early to stay out of his way. While she couldn’t remember when they had started actually calling him Marcus out loud, he had never been anything else in their thoughts.

The sight of the sprawling brick mansion never failed to surprise her as she rounded the last curve. It did even more so tonight as the house appeared, starkly forlorn, silhouetted against the rapidly darkening sky. Had it always looked so eerie?

Hayley shook her head. Once, Heartskeep had been a welcome haven. The past seven years had changed all that. And tonight there wasn’t even a welcoming glimmer of light. The structure looked like an abandoned movie set for a slasher film.

“Great. Psyche yourself into a case of nerves, why don’t you?” she muttered.

But it was true. The happy memories the house had once evoked were long gone. They’d disappeared along with her mother.

Hayley and Leigh had been back to Heartskeep only a handful of times since the two of them had started at Wellesley College. The visits had never been pleasant so they’d been careful to keep their stays as brief as possible.

How dare he remove her lions?

Heartskeep and everything connected with the estate belonged to Hayley and Leigh, not Marcus Thomas. As her mother’s firstborn child, ownership of the house and grounds would revert to Hayley when she turned twenty-five next year. Didn’t Marcus know that?

Of course he did. Wasn’t that why he’d put up the gate? She’d known Marcus and his wife, Eden, would not be happy to see her, but Hayley hadn’t anticipated anything like this.

Despite this new provocation, she had no real intention of turning them out. She might not like Marcus, but the blood relationship existed, and she would acknowledge and respect that fact, as her mother had done. However, Marcus would have to come to terms with Hayley’s ownership of the estate. He was not master here any longer even if she wasn’t twenty-five yet. She was no longer a minor under his jurisdiction.

Of course, she’d feel a lot braver with Leigh at her side. The deep bond between them had been forged at conception. But Hayley had wanted to spare her twin the coming unpleasantness.

Too bad she hadn’t realized just how unpleasant things were going to be. Still, she wouldn’t have asked Leigh to cut short her visit with her friends in England. Hayley could take the brunt of Marcus’s anger. After all, there was nothing he could do to alter the situation.

Unless he made her disappear, as he had her mother.

Hayley tossed aside that morbid thought and tried to concentrate on missing the worst of the ruts. No one had ever been able to prove Marcus had had anything to do with their mother’s disappearance, no matter what Hayley and Leigh believed. Not that the local police had tried all that hard.

Hayley bypassed the wide, sweeping circle in front of the house and drove around to the back entrance she generally used. She suppressed a shiver. The truth was, she was secretly afraid of Marcus. She always had been. While her grandfather was alive, Marcus hadn’t mattered. Her grandfather had taken on the paternal role, since Marcus ignored his daughters most of the time. That had suited everyone just fine. In the beginning, their mother had tried to make excuses for his indifference, but it wasn’t long before she’d stopped trying.

Shortly after her eleventh birthday, Hayley had gone looking for her birth certificate, convinced Marcus couldn’t really be her father. She had cried uncontrollably after discovering the document said otherwise.

How could a real father be so cold? He was a doctor, of all things. And not just any doctor, a gynecologist and obstetrician for a very select clientele. No one had ever been able to explain his indifference to his own family. Hayley and Leigh had learned to accept the situation. They’d lived with their parents and grandfather on the vast estate for most of their lives, but they often had gone days at a time without seeing Marcus.

Hayley knew Dennison Hart had shared their dislike of Marcus, though he’d never said a critical word in their hearing. He’d even had the front wing of the house remodeled into an office for his son-in-law, after Marcus complained about his long commute to work. Leigh surmised it was her grandfather’s way of keeping Marcus from moving his family away from Heartskeep. Hayley thought her sister probably had it right.

Everything had changed when their grandfather died without warning one night. The vast estate seemed to shrink. Teenagers by then, she and Leigh had frequently heard Marcus ranting at their mother. They’d worked harder than ever to stay out of his way, but they couldn’t help wishing their mother would toss him out and file for divorce.

Instead, it was Amy Thomas who’d gone away. A few months after her father’s death, their mother took a sudden, inexplicable trip to New York City and vanished without a trace. Hayley and Leigh knew something awful had happened when she didn’t call home to check in with them after the first night.

Valet parking at Amy’s hotel said they’d retrieved her car for her early the morning after she arrived. Neither she nor the car was ever seen again. Though she’d left her luggage at the hotel, Hayley and Leigh had both known their mother wasn’t ever coming back to claim it.

The depressing memory of that time accompanied Hayley to the kitchen door—a door now covered by another intricately detailed wrought-iron grill. The door was locked.

Trembling with anger, Hayley pressed the bell, holding it in place. There was no sound from within. Where were Mrs. Walsh and Kathy? The housekeeper and her daughter had rooms right off the kitchen. They rarely went out in the evening.

Puzzled, and more than a little uneasy, Hayley took a step back to survey the house in the rapidly fading twilight. Every ground floor window now sported wrought-iron grillwork. Outrage mingled with fear. What was going on? Bars on the doors and windows? Was Marcus preparing for a siege?

Hayley turned toward the converted garage, which had once been a stable. Perhaps a look around inside would tell her something. She was halfway to the building when a light flickering through the trees caught her attention. Was that a fire?

Dropping her overnight case, she broke into a run, only slowing when she realized the glow was growing brighter, but not larger. A strange, rhythmic hammering sound, carried by the wind, had her edging forward more cautiously. Just short of the clearing she paused.

The original Heartskeep had been built in the eighteen hundreds. A fire had destroyed the main house at the turn of the century, and the current mansion had been erected in its place. Some of the barns and outbuildings were still originals. They included an old forge that hadn’t been used in living memory—until now.

The door gaped open, allowing Hayley to see that it wasn’t actually being used now, either. The glow was coming from a large, portable forge standing beyond the building. A man bent over the intense heat of a fire, fueled by a massive propane tank. His features were in profile, his face etched with lines made harsh by the glow of his fire. Hair curled around his neck, thick and dark at the edges where moisture had dampened the strands. A sheen of sweat beaded his arms and plastered the dirty white, sleeveless T-shirt to his formidable chest. Stained jeans encased his lean hips. He was a large man, tall and well muscled. The sort of muscles that came from physical labor rather than a gym.

One of his large hands was covered by a thick, heavy glove holding what appeared to be some sort of tongs. He drew a glowing metal rod from the heart of the fire and set it to one side on a mounted anvil. The bare hand wielded an incredibly heavy-looking hammer, making the large tattoo on his upper arm flex and writhe. Transfixed, Hayley watched the intensity of his expression as he pounded away at the glowing length of metal, twisting and shaping it with undeniable skill.

There was something disturbingly sensual about the stranger and his actions. At the same time, he appeared almost sinister in his single-minded devotion to his craft, as if he was chained there by the fire and his work, pounding away at some inner demon only he could see.

Hayley found herself moving stealthily closer, drawn by the rhythmic force of his blows, awed by the beauty they were creating. He thrust the rod back into the flames once more. She moved even closer, determined to see what he was crafting with such intensity.

She was certain she hadn’t made a sound, but without warning, he turned. The white-hot piece of metal waved only inches from her face. Hayley froze, unable to utter a sound. She felt as if that glowing tip had actually branded her flesh.

“Who the devil are you?” he demanded gruffly, using the hammer to push back his protective goggles and survey her. The disturbing heat of his gaze seemed far hotter than his fire, but at least it broke the spell holding her mute.

Hayley exhaled and raised her chin. “I’d be careful calling on the devil if I were you. You already look like you’re standing over the fires of hell.”

The man blinked in surprise. The corners of his lips darted upward for just a second, but the hint of a smile disappeared before it could form fully and the somber, dark mask settled back over his features.

“A good reason for you to run away, little girl.”

A strange tingle traveled straight up her spine. His voice was as deep and soft as crushed velvet. He rocked back on his heels, surveying her in a blatant challenge she couldn’t ignore.

“Personally, I prefer aerobics to running. I also prefer petite to little. And I haven’t been a girl for a number of years.”

The momentary softening of his mouth hinted at more amusement, quickly hidden. “Yeah? How many?”

She should have been nervous. At the very least, she told herself, she should be cautious. Yet somehow she sensed no real menace from the man, despite his brooding looks. Instead, she sensed an aura of sadness about him that immediately stirred her curiosity.

“I’m old enough to know you’re trespassing on private property.” She forced herself to respond lightly.

“Is that so?”

“Uh-huh. Want to put your weapons down, or do you think you’ll need a hammer and a poker to ward me off?”

A grin slid across his features so fast she couldn’t be sure she’d actually seen one. He set the hammer aside with deliberate care. The glowing metal hissed loudly, sending a vapor stream into the darkness of the night as he plunged the object into a large tin of water.

“I’ll risk it,” he told her.

“So, who are you? What are you doing here?”

“I don’t think you’re the one who should be asking the questions. I was hired to be here. What about you?”

Anger washed over her. “Marcus,” she cursed.

“I gather you know the owner?” he questioned.

“You’re looking at the owner.”

Slowly, he began tugging off his gloves, but not before she had the satisfaction of seeing his surprise.

“A little young, aren’t you?”

“You seem fascinated by my age.”

He watched her, his face mostly in shadow now, giving him an even darker, more brooding appearance.

“You’re a fascinating person,” he told her softly.

Her breath caught in her throat. A current of awareness arced between them. Disconcerted, she shook her head against the powerful impact he seemed to be having on her senses. Not all the heat seemed to be coming from the forge.

“Look, it’s getting late and I’ve just had a tiring drive,” she said quickly. “Is Marcus home?”

“I’ve no idea.”

“Okay. Then do you have a key to get past that fancy gate you put over my back door?”

“Your door,” he said mildly, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of those closely fitted jeans.

“Yes, my door. The name is Hayley Hart Thomas. As of two weeks ago, Heartskeep in its entirety belongs to me and my sister.”

It was only a slight exaggeration. Two weeks ago their mother had been officially declared dead. There was no other living person with any legal right to lay claim to the estate.

The blacksmith regarded her steadily while seconds ticked silently past. Full dark descended. The waves of heat emanating from the fire seemed to fill the night, blocking normal sounds. She gave a small start when he finally spoke again. This time, his voice was bare of inflection.

“No keys, Ms. Thomas. You’ll have to take that up with Mr. Thomas.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I intend to.” Bitterly she decided she might have to call the police after all. “Sorry I disturbed you.” Gathering her anger like a cloak, she spun around. After taking two steps, she paused to look over her shoulder. The stranger hadn’t moved.

“And I want my lions back.”

His eyebrows raised at her demand.

“Do you mean the old stone lions that used to be at the main entrance? Mr. Thomas wanted them destroyed—”

“You didn’t!”

“No, actually I didn’t. I had them taken to my shop.”

Relief swelled inside her. He still had her lions. “Where is that?”

“Tucked up in the hills about an hour’s drive northwest of here. I doubt you’ve ever heard of the place. Murett Township doesn’t appear on most maps.”

He was right. She’d never heard of it. “I want them replaced the way they were. Excuse me while I go have a nice long chat with my father. Have a good evening, Mr.—”

“Myers,” he supplied. “Bram Myers.”

“Well, Mr. Myers, it was interesting talking with you. You’ll have to forgive me for running off, but it looks like I need to drive a car through one of your clever gates to get inside my own house.”

He rocked back on his heels. Once again she sensed an underlying amusement. “Now why do I think you’re ready to do exactly that?”

“Good instincts?”

“Try the front door,” he suggested softly. “I haven’t completed the design for that gate.”

Hayley hesitated. “I will. And Mr. Myers, I wouldn’t waste time creating any more gates or bars for Heartskeep if I were you.”

Hayley plunged back down the pitch dark path toward the house. She didn’t dare look back. Bram Myers was entirely too disconcerting for comfort. She had never seen a sexier man in all her life. Too bad she was going to have to fire him in the morning.

She wished there was a moon overhead as she made her way cautiously around the house to the front door. Curiously, she didn’t even need her key. The tarnished brass knob twisted easily beneath her fingers. The door swung wide, revealing a black, cavernous interior that was far from inviting. Hayley could barely see to step over the threshold. She searched along the wall for the remembered light switch, relieved when her fingers closed over it. But nothing happened.

A large chandelier hung over the foyer. One bulb might be burned out, but not all of them. Obviously, the electricity wasn’t working again. The house had an empty, deserted feeling. Where was everyone?

“Hello? Is anyone here?”

Her voice seemed to echo hollowly.

Straight ahead, the formal grand staircase rose imperiously to the second floor. Beyond it was the incredibly large, one-of-a-kind living room. On her right was the library, and to her left, the narrow, formal parlor her grandfather had converted into a waiting room for Marcus’s patients.

Hayley knew a moment of shock when she sensed the door to that parlor standing wide open. Except during office hours, Marcus always kept that door closed and locked.

Despite her unease, she was drawn to the opening. She set down her case and crossed to the entrance, stepping warily inside. The bank of windows on her left was covered by thick, heavy drapes, so there wasn’t even a faint trace of light in the waiting room.

“Hello? Is anyone home?”

A whisper of sound slithered to life from somewhere inside. Common sense told her to leave. Fear told her to run. Sternly, Hayley told herself she wasn’t a child. This was her home. She had nothing to fear here.

“Hello?”

Shoving back a long tendril of hair that had worked its way loose from her ponytail, she stepped into the dark recess of the room.

“Is someone in here?”

No one answered, but there was a definite slither of sound that sent prickles of alarm straight up her spine. It was impossible to pinpoint the source of the noise, yet she sensed someone standing nearby. Someone who obviously didn’t intend to make his or her presence known.

As Hayley stepped forward cautiously, her leg made unexpected contact with a hard object. Her fingers identified the reception desk, even as her eyes strained to pierce the uncanny blackness of the room. Visions from every horror movie she had ever seen rushed to paint images in her mind. There was a feeling of wrongness in here that was almost physical.

A disturbing chill suddenly brushed her skin. Hayley sensed rather than saw a movement in the ominous well of blackness pooled at the opening that had once led into the formal ballroom. The heavy door now led to the corridor her grandfather had created when he’d converted a portion of the ballroom into a bathroom, laboratory and exam rooms for Marcus. The narrow hall ended at an office.

Hayley held her breath. She felt sure someone stood in that pocket of shadow, silently watching her. The sense of menace seemed to swell until she turned and bolted back into the hall.

She noticed the tall, looming shape too late to avoid a collision.

A scream tore from the depths of her soul. Hands closed roughly around her shoulders. Even as dry-mouthed fear enveloped her, she instinctively lashed out with her foot. There was a soft grunt of pain as she connected with a shin. Her attacker released her.

“Take it easy, will you? I’m not going to hurt you.”

A core of remaining sanity placed the voice. A powerful shaft of light emerged from a flashlight in his hand. She was momentarily blinded by the beam before he aimed it away from her face. His harsh features wavered into view.

“Sorry if I startled you,” Bram Myers said quietly.

“Startled?” Her heart raced as if she’d run a mile. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“That would have been a real shame. Not to mention a spectacular problem.”

His wry humor steadied her frazzled nerves. “What are you doing in here?”

“I came to be sure you hadn’t driven your car through a door like you threatened.”

“Very funny.” She couldn’t stop trembling. It had been such a long day, and he was standing too near.

“What happened to the lights?”

“They aren’t working,” she bit out.

“I noticed.” He swung the beam so it spanned the empty hall, causing shadows to leap and writhe. “Are you all right? You’re shaking.”

“Of course I’m shaking. You scared the heck out of me.”

“The way you came bursting out of that room, I have a feeling I’m not the only thing that scared you.”

Flustered, she struggled for a composure she was far from feeling. “There’s someone in there. Whoever it is wouldn’t answer when I called out.”

He tensed. “Wait here.”

Before she could stop him, Bram strode through the opening. Hayley followed on his heels, secretly relieved by his reassuring presence. His flashlight brought the dark room to spooky life. The drapes were of thick, heavy damask. Empty chairs sat in a line in front of them.

“Inviting. I hope you’re planning on having a decorator come in,” he said mildly.

“Cute.”

The beam of light swept behind the desk to reveal the heavy, dark wood double doors that led back to Marcus’s lair. They were closed, sealing off the converted rooms. Her stomach lurched.

“One of those doors was open a second ago,” she whispered.

Bram spared her a look. Crossing to them, he reached for the knob. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

He rattled the handle. “It’s locked now. Want me to break it open?”

Yes, she wanted to shout, but she couldn’t push the word past lips that felt numb. Someone had stood in that doorway only a minute ago. She was sure of it.

“I can force it open if you want me to, but are you sure it wasn’t your imagination playing tricks? It would certainly be understandable. Without light, this room is as dark as the inside of a coffin.”