The car drove up to large black wrought-iron gates. The driver checked in and the massive doors slid open wide so they could drive through.

“Okay, ladies, we’re here,” Riley said as the car came to a stop.

Without waiting for the driver to hold the door, Sophie exited, stepping out into the Mississippi humidity, glad she’d opted for curls rather than any kind of sleek hairstyle that wouldn’t hold up in this weather.

Lizzie slid out from behind her and ran up the huge front lawn where a slender woman in navy slacks and a silk blouse waited on the front steps, then pulled her into a warm hug.

“Ready to meet the parents?” Riley winked at Sophie.

The gesture did little to ease the growing nerves in the pit of her stomach. “I really don’t belong here.”

He frowned. “You do, too. You’re my guest and they’re expecting you. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Except the little fact that your daughter hates me,” she muttered as they started walking up the driveway.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, comforting her. “She doesn’t hate you. She hates sharing me.”

Sophie let out a laugh. “Pardon me for thinking there’s little difference.”

“Riley!” The woman walked down the steps and drew her son into her arms. “It’s been too long. I’ve missed you,” she said, sounding just like Sophie always imagined a mother should sound.

An unexpected swell of emotion rose in Sophie’s throat, emotion she should have been way beyond feeling. She was used to seeing little children and their mothers all over Manhattan and she’d passed the point where the sight would arouse feelings of loss and longing. She’d never watched two adults embrace and been hit with all she was still missing out on in her life. Until now.

Which said something about her connection to Riley, Sophie thought and shivered despite the sticky heat.

“You must be Sophia.” The elegant woman held out her hand and welcomed Sophie with a warm smile.

“My friends call me Sophie.”

“I’m Anne.”

Sophie inclined her head. “Thank you for having me for the weekend.”

“It’s not like you gave anyone a choice.” Lizzie stood behind her grandmother, leaning against the wooden front door, glaring at Sophie.

Sophie stiffened. She waited for someone, Riley’s mother or Riley himself, to react.

“Lizzie, go inside and let Marabel give you some milk and cookies.” Once the girl had turned and stomped inside, the older woman turned back to Sophie. “Maybe she’s tired from the trip.”

“Maybe she just has a smart mouth and I’ve had enough.” Riley walked around Sophie and up the steps to the front door. “It’s high time I had a talk with her.”

Sophie exhaled in relief.

“Riley, wait. Just give her some time to calm down. You can talk to her later,” Anne pleaded with her son.

Sophie had little doubt he’d give in, leaving her odd woman out around this family. A place she ought to remain, if she was smart.

Riley gritted his teeth at his mother’s unreasonable request. Until today, he hadn’t seen how badly behaved his daughter could actually be. Or maybe he hadn’t wanted to see. Until Lizzie had turned her anger on Sophie, Riley had been content to let her mouth off, telling himself he deserved her frustration because he no longer lived with her mother. And of course, because he was afraid of having no relationship with her, as he didn’t with Spencer Atkins.

He finally understood Sophie’s frustration with him in Florida and Lisa’s constant angst over his handling of their child. However, his mother saw Lizzie infrequently, and keeping the peace for a little while longer was a small price to pay for her happiness. Especially now, with the Spencer situation hanging over her.

He nodded, indulging his mother, but only for now. “I’ll show Sophie to her room. While she’s getting settled in, you and I can talk.”

Although he’d made peace with not finding out information about Spencer from the man himself, Riley had a lot of questions for his mother. Questions he’d waited to ask in person, so he could see her face and judge her reactions for himself.

“Anne, why don’t you show our guest to her room?” Senator Harlan Nash joined them on the front porch. “Riley and I can retire to the study and catch up.”

The senator posed his words as a suggestion, but Riley knew that tone and it indicated pure expectation. The man, in his navy power suit, white shirt and conservative red tie, was the epitome of a Washington power broker. Without a doubt, Senator Nash was on his way up in politics. Heaven help anyone who stood in his way, Riley thought.

“Still issuing commands, I see.” Riley laughed as he shook the man’s hand, then pulled him into a brief hug. “Some things never change.”

“Any reason they should?” the senator asked easily.

Riley grinned. “Not a one.” He glanced over, wondering how Sophie was handling all this family at once.

In her expression, he saw interest and understanding. He was glad. She was seeing the Nash family as they really were, and clearly she approved.

If only she felt the same about his daughter-and vice versa, he thought, frustrated. He’d just have to find the right time to bring the two women in his life together somehow.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to this lovely lady?” the senator asked.

Now there was a pleasurable task. “Senator Harlan Nash, meet Sophie Jordan.” Riley turned to Sophie. “Sophie, this is my father.”

The two shook hands and the next thing Riley knew, the senator had directed his mother and Sophie upstairs, while he closed Riley in the study with him. Unfortunately, Harlan received a phone call that took up an entire hour.

By the time Riley had finished reading the paper and decided his father being off the phone “in a minute” wasn’t happening, his mother had left the house with Sophie for a tour of the city. No sooner had Harlan exited his office than Lizzie had pleaded to be taken for ice cream, and Harlan had immediately agreed.

Riley begged off. Left alone, he hit the home gym in the basement. So much for conversation with his mother or Lizzie. So much for reconciliation between Sophie and Lizzie. If Riley didn’t know better, he’d think the senator had orchestrated the entire thing, isolating Riley and precluding a conversation of any kind.

SOPHIE CLIMBED on top of the bed in the comfortable guest room. One of about four guest rooms, if she’d counted correctly. The stately mansion befitted the senator and his family, gorgeous yet homey at the same time. She yawned and stretched, snuggling into the huge bed. Her exhaustion came more from travel than anything else she’d done today.

Along with Riley’s mother, she’d taken a tour of the town, and then Anne had shown her the capitol, half an hour away. Sophie had enjoyed her time with Riley’s mother. The other woman had chatted about everything and anything, including stories about Riley as an incorrigible youth. The bond between mother and son was obviously strong, yet Anne hadn’t made Sophie feel like an intruder at all. In fact, his mother had commented on the fact that Riley had never brought a woman from New York back home with him before.

Still feeling warm and fuzzy from that comment, as well as from the Lizzie-less dinner, as the teen had gone for pizza with local friends, Sophie knew she wouldn’t unwind fully unless she mapped out the possibilities of who was stalking her back home. She pulled a pen and pad from her travel bag and began to take notes. Steve Harris and Miguel Cambias topped her list. They both had motive. Miguel had already proved himself adept at gaining what he wanted, be it Cindy or an athlete he wanted to represent, while Steve Harris had shown his ability to dig into her life.

But only Cambias had opportunity because of his access to Sophie and Athletes Only via Cindy. Sophie had no doubt her friend was an unwitting accomplice if it was Miguel who was looking to divert her uncle’s and Spencer’s attention from the draft. Yet she wasn’t convinced the man would go that far and she didn’t want to think he’d use Cindy as a means to an end. She sighed, no further along in her thoughts than she had been after talking with the police following the break-in at the office.

Somehow the knock on the door a few minutes later didn’t surprise her and it provided a welcome distraction. “Come in.” She laid the book on her lap and waited for Riley to let himself inside.

He walked in, dressed in faded jeans and a light blue T-shirt. Still sexy with the shadow of a day’s growth of beard. Still so appealing and desirable.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

She blushed and grinned. “Hey, yourself.”

He lowered himself onto the mattress, his thigh touching hers. “Working?” He picked up the notebook, took in the scrawled names and frowned. “I’d rather you were working than dwelling on this.”

She shrugged. “I have to figure out who’s doing this.”

He shook his head. “That’s a job for the cops. I brought you down here to get away from it all and that’s what we’re going to do.”

She raised an eyebrow, definitely interested. “What did you have in mind?”

“Would you believe my father still has a vintage Corvette convertible? I thought we’d drive around, I’d show you the sights at night and we could end up at the local parking spot.”

She couldn’t help the smile pulling at her lips. “Aren’t you afraid of getting caught?” she asked, teasing him.

“Lizzie’s been asleep for hours and I can’t think of anyone else who’d care. What do you say?” He leaned forward, his lips inches from hers. “When was the last time you experienced some good old-fashioned necking?”

She couldn’t resist him on a good day, let alone on one when her defenses were down and she was on his turf. She was still in self-protection mode, but she wasn’t about to turn down what was probably her last opportunity to be with him.

“I need to change first.”

He glanced down, his attention settling on the cleavage revealed by her favorite lemon-colored satin camisole, then traveling down the length of her matching drawstring pants. He trailed a finger over one bare shoulder, his roughened skin caressing her flesh. She shivered, feeling her nipples pucker into tight peaks and knowing for certain he noticed them, as well.

“We could stay here,” he said, tempting her even more.

She swallowed hard. “And definitely risk getting caught.” Suddenly taking that convertible ride sounded even more appealing.

She scooted around him and poked through the drawers for a bra and shirt, then grabbed jeans from the closet. “Be out in a sec,” she promised, closing herself in the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, they drove through the gates and into the muggy night air. A cool breeze didn’t lessen the high humidity but Sophie didn’t mind.

She was in a vintage convertible, Riley by her side and her problems back home in New York. How could she complain about that?

He drove down a dark stretch of road, made a sharp right and suddenly a school came into view.

“Is this your high school?” Sophie asked, glancing at his profile.

He nodded. “Brandon High,” he said, laughing. “And that field over there?” He gestured with a wave of his hand to the football field, complete with electronic scoreboard. “Riley Nash Field.”

She squinted, unable to read the writing on the sign. “You lie.”

He laughed. “Yeah. But they should name that place after me. I scored enough goals to earn it,” he said with a grin.

“Your lack of modesty is unbelievable.” But it was one of the things she admired about him.

His faith in himself was probably one of the traits that made him such a solid, dependable team player. He hadn’t let Spencer’s rejection hold him back. If anything, his birth father’s absence drove Riley to push himself harder.

She remembered how easily he called the senator Dad. The word rolled naturally off his tongue. Riley clearly had a solid support system here at home, one filled with love and affection. Her heart squeezed tight for Spencer, yet she couldn’t stop the feeling of gratitude she felt toward Harlan for raising Riley without prejudice over the lack of common blood between them.

He drove past the school and soon they entered the small center of town. “I thought we’d grab some DQ before we went parking.”

“DQ,” she repeated. “Dairy Queen?”

He nodded. “You pampered city girls don’t know the first thing about good ice cream.” He pulled alongside a drive-through window. “What would you like?”

Sophie leaned back against the car seat. “Since you claim to be the ice-cream connoisseur, why don’t you go ahead and order for both of us?”

“Two vanilla cones dipped in chocolate,” he said. Then he turned back to her. “I’m going to go with the classic, so you can get a real feel.”