She picked up the paper and held it closer.

An intriguing wrinkle appeared in the long and illustrious history of the De Leon family, when the late Robert De Leon left a small tract of estate land to an employee. As the De Leons have clung to every acre they own since the 1500s, this has raised eyebrows all over the county. An inside source confirmed that Robert De Leon’s long-rumored affair was in fact with this employee, forty-eight-year-old Leticia Marcus, who worked on the estate as a cook for fifteen years before her recent death in an automobile accident.

Anna bit her lip as fresh grief flooded her.

The situation might be further complicated by the estate’s recent venture into the retail market. Some say the late Ms. Marcus was the mastermind behind the award-winning products that are seeing strong sales across the nation. Ms. Marcus’s daughter has been in town for several days, and seems to have no immediate plans to relinquish her claims on the estate. Is the great De Leon empire under siege?

She realized her jaw had fallen open, and she snapped it shut.

“Why did you do this?” Naldo leaned over her, his voice low and menacing.

“Do what?” she rasped. “I had nothing to do with this.”

“It had to be you. You’re the only person with ‘insider information’.”

Anna blinked. Naldo De Leon was in her bedroom-uninvited-accusing her of spreading libelous rumors. He hadn’t even asked, he assumed she was the source. White-hot rage streaked along her nerves. Did this man’s arrogance have no limits?

“You said you’d like to tell the papers what kind of man my father really was.” His low voice joined his eyes in an aggressive confrontation that wreaked havoc on her stubborn streak.

She let go of the covers and crossed her arms over her chest. “What if I did give them the information?”

Naldo’s brows lowered. “Do you have any idea what this means?”

“Sure. People will know the truth. It is the truth, remember?”

“It is private, proprietary information about my father’s personal life. The De Leon name appears in the paper only for announcements of births, marriages and deaths, not on the gossip pages.”

He straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin.

Anna exploded into a chuckle. Yes. His arrogance really did have no limits. “Oh, come on. There must have been articles about the new line of products.”

“Yes. Of course. But a public relations firm in New York handles those. Naturally your mother’s name was never mentioned in connection with them.”

“Naturally,” she returned sarcastically. “Perhaps you can call them in to ‘handle’ this too?” She smiled sweetly.

Naldo inhaled deeply, obviously using every last ounce of self-control not to take her by the shoulders and shake her. “So you admit it?”

“I don’t admit a thing.”

She could see Naldo’s powerful chest heaving under his dark shirt. Any minute now, steam was going to start rising out of his artfully tousled black hair. “You are impossible.”

“Me? You’re the one who’s broken into my house and marched into my bedroom uninvited! I’m in my pajamas, for crying out loud.” She indicated her pink cami. “If anyone is ‘under siege,’ it’s me. Could you maybe show a little common politeness for a change?”

Naldo blinked. She saw his Adam’s apple move, then he drew himself up to his full height and nodded brusquely. “You’re right. I should have knocked. But I want a full explanation of this. The De Leon family does not take scandal lying down, of that you can be sure.”

His dark gaze trapped her focus for several intense seconds. A heady mix of unreadable thoughts and emotions seemed to swirl in those dark, penetrating eyes, and in her mind. Then he turned and left.

She collapsed back against the pillow, heart thumping.

A full explanation? She didn’t have one, but she was going to get one. She heard his car engine with relief. At least he wasn’t waiting for his explanation at the bottom of the stairs.

Naldo had left the newspaper lying on the bed. The Sunshine Post. She remembered the local paper her mother used to look for yard sale announcements in. Hardly the National Enquirer, but she could see that this was a nice juicy local tidbit. And it was true.

But no way would she let Naldo blame her for planting it. She’d find out who did this, and the best way to start was simply to ask.

“My source is confidential.” The classic line was spoken not by an old-time visor-and-vest-wearing hack, but by a pimply youth dressed like a skateboarder.

Anna and Sunshine Post reporter Thomas Craig carried their iced teas to an outdoor table at the Bon Appétit café on Main Street in the middle of a glorious, sunny spring morning.

“How do you know her information was accurate?”

“It checked out.”

“Ah, so it was a female?” Anna raised her eyebrows and took a sip of iced tea.

He tilted his head and winked. “I’m sure we can find some information to trade with each other. You’re Leticia Marcus’s daughter?”

“Yes. Everyone calls her Letty. Called her Letty, I guess I’m still not used to-”

“How long had she been involved with Robert De Leon?” He leaned forward to sip from his straw and his dirty blond hair hung in his eyes. No doubt hiding a gleam of voracious curiosity.

“I have no idea if they even did have an affair.” Her knee-jerk response surprised her. She had no doubt they’d been lovers. Even Naldo admitted it. So why was she prevaricating now?

“Oh, come on.” Craig’s wide mouth tilted in a mocking smile. “Everyone in town knows they had a long-term affair.”

“They were both private people,” she said stiffly. “I hardly think they’d have let everyone in town in on their business.”

“So, you admit there was ‘business,’ as you so tactfully put it?” He sipped his iced tea through the straw again. A skull-and-crossbones ring glinted on one of his fingers.

“I admit nothing of the kind.”

He snorted. “Come on, we’re all adults here. And now you’re getting into it with Naldo.”

“What?” Her eyes snapped open. A flush started to creep up from the neckline of her T-shirt. Ugh! If he didn’t suspect anything already, he would now.

“Over the land. He wants you to sell, but you won’t.”

“Of course I will. I don’t want that land.”

“So why haven’t you sold and left yet?”

“I have to sort through my mother’s things.”

“And rekindle an old flame, perhaps?” He cocked his head, letting his long hair flop aside to reveal green eyes glinting with…malice?

“There’s nothing between me and Naldo.” The barefaced lie made her revealing flush deepen.

“Why do I not believe you?” He winked.

She inhaled sharply. “I grew up here. Naldo was away at boarding school most of the time, so I saw him when he was home for vacations. Naldo and I both loved sports, so, sure, we spent some time fooling around on the tennis court and shooting hoops. That’s all there was to it. We weren’t really friends, even. He didn’t recognize me when I came back.” This time the truth gave her a nasty, nagging sensation.

“And now you’re all grown up, both single…” He took another sip and peered at her through his hair.

“I’m not single, I’m divorced,” she sputtered.

He smiled, revealing straight, white teeth. “Last time I checked, divorced meant single.”

“As you’ve so astutely observed, Naldo and I are both adults. What we do is our own business. As it happens, we are simply negotiating a price for the property left to my mother. When we’ve reached an agreement I will sell and leave. Simple as that.” She sipped her iced tea, trying to keep her temper in check.

“Your mother developed the recipes that are minting money for the family?”

“I believe she did.”

“Then I bet you want a piece of that juicy pie.” Craig leaned forward and lifted a skinny brow.

“I certainly do not. My mother developed those recipes as an employee of the estate.” She clamped her lips together, hardly able to believe she was making the same argument Naldo had made.

“She must have been a pretty devoted employee. The De Leons are famous for being one of the best employers anywhere. The staff are like family, no?”

“Absolutely. That’s why they keep the same people for so long.”

“And I guess that’s how Robert De Leon kept his affair with your mother a secret for so many years. No one wanted to risk their comfy perch by blowing the lid off the chicken coop.”

“Blowing the lid off? Please. You’re acting like there’s an actual story here. Who cares what Robert De Leon was doing in his spare time? Why on earth is that anyone’s business but his?”

The cool, sweet, iced tea did nothing to extinguish her simmering indignation. She’d like to crush this snotty little jerk under her sandal.

Why are you defending Robert De Leon? He treated your mother as a mistress. He could have married her, but he didn’t.

“Come on. We both know they had an affair.”

“My mother would have told me, and she never said a word.”

That still hurt. But it confirmed that her mother wanted to keep her love life a secret, and it was Anna’s duty to respect that.

“And now you and Naldo are continuing the legacy. A legacy of passion.” The green eyes narrowed to vicious slits.

Anna narrowly resisted the urge to throw her iced tea at him. “Naldo and I are working out some business matters. Why don’t you go write about something that actually matters? Isabela De Leon came to you with this, didn’t she?”

“I cannot confirm, or deny…” He winked at her.

“I thought so.” She slammed some money down on the table, annoyed that she had to pay for him since she’d invited him. At least she had the information she was looking for, not that she hadn’t known it from the start. “Thanks for your time,” she muttered. Then she marched off down the street, bristling with irritation at the reporter, Isabela, Naldo and anyone else who wanted to make her life more of a mess than it already was.

She wasn’t sure if Isabela had hinted at an affair between her and Naldo, or if she’d given that information herself with her guilty blushes. This meeting was probably not a good idea, but at least she’d learned that Isabela was the source.

She’d been sure Isabela had planted the article, but why would she want to have the family scandals blabbed all over town? Did she want to hurt Naldo? Was it part of her plan to force him to sell the estate?

Anger simmered inside her at the idea that Naldo’s own sister was trying to undermine the estate.

But why should she care? It wasn’t as if Naldo meant something to her.

If anything, he deserved it.

Naldo never came back to get her news about the true source of the article. When she stopped by the house to tell him it was his sister who’d gone to the papers, she learned he’d gone to a polo match near Ocala. Right now he was probably out partying, with an heiress on each arm.

Tom had delivered the gems to her the previous evening and stored them back in the dark attic as she requested. He gave her a wary look along with his polite greeting when she said “hi” to him at the house. Even the usually cheery Pilar seemed cool.

Back at the cottage, she folded up a white cotton sweater of her mother’s and put it in yet another pile to go in the van. Why couldn’t she seem to throw anything away? What was she going to do with all this stuff? Maybe being adrift and rootless, with no idea what the future held, was turning her into a pack rat, clutching at anything that might bring a sense of security.

She slept a while, then got up to pack just as light was breaking over the horizon. She turned the air conditioner off-why not enjoy the balmy Florida heat while she still could? It was probably fifty degrees in Boston right now.

Without the whirring of the A/C, the chirping and warbling of thousands of birds began to fill her ears. She’d never paid much attention to birds while she lived here. She took their gentle morning wake-up song for granted, along with the rich scented air and the warm, year-round sun.

Since then she’d lived so long surrounded by the roar of traffic and the whup-whup of early morning sirens, that she had a burning curiosity to see what kinds of birds were making that pretty music.

She shoved up the old sash window.

Wow. There was that air again. So much of it, fresh and clean and clear and perfumed with oranges. She inhaled deeply, letting it fill her lungs and send its invigorating, scented oxygen zipping into her bloodstream.

Leaving the first time had been easy. Leaving again-for good-was going to be a whole different story.

The sound of an engine growling close by made her crane her neck around to the front of the house. She’d taken to parking her van on the grass in case anyone needed access to the polo arena. Who ever heard of a private polo arena? She shook her head.