Kathie DeNosky - The Kincaids - Southern Seduction - Sex, Lies and the Southern Belle

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KATHIE DENOSKYlives in her native southern Illinois with her big, loveable Bernese mountain dog, Nemo. Writing highly sensual stories with a generous amount of humour, Kathie’s books have appeared on the Waldenbooks bestseller list and received a Write Touch Readers Award and a National Readers’ Choice Award. Kathie enjoys going to rodeos, travelling to research settings for her books and listening to country music. Readers may contact Kathie at PO Box 2064, Herrin, Illinois 62948-5264, USA or email her at kathie@kathiedenosky.com. They can also visit her website, www.kathiedenosky.com.

Dear Reader,

When I was invited to write the first book in the new Dynasties mini-series, I was absolutely thrilled. I love working with other authors on these special projects and this one was no different. I mean, who wouldn’t enjoy collaborating with such talented ladies?

And, as impossible as it might seem, as I wrote Sex, Lies and the Southern Belle , my enthusiasm grew even more. Researching Charleston, South Carolina, and specifically the historic homes in the Battery, I fell in love with the antebellum architecture and the beauty of a city so rich with history.

That’s one of the reasons the antebellum mansion Lily inherits on Battery Street plays a major role in the telling of their story. As grand as any castle, the gorgeous historic home is where Lily and Daniel work to overcome the secrets of the past and together find a love that will stand the test of time.

As you read about the modern South and get acquainted with all of the Kincaid siblings, it is my fervent hope that you enjoy these stories as much as we, the authors, enjoyed writing them.

All the best,

Kathie DeNosky

This book is dedicated to the wonderful authors I worked

with on this series. It was a real pleasure, ladies!

And to Charles Griemsman. I look forward to

working with you on many more in the future.

A knot began to form in Lily Kincaid’s stomach as she looked around the conference table at her family and the three strangers who had attended her father’s funeral the day before. They were gathered for the reading of Reginald Kincaid’s will and as difficult as it was to believe her beloved father was gone, the fact that he had led a secret double life for the past three decades was almost impossible for her to grasp. It was just beyond comprehension to think that he’d had a second family up in Greenville all these years.

When Harold Parsons, her father’s attorney, walked into the room with a thick file and sat down at the head of the table, then removed several envelopes and papers from the folder, her apprehension grew. She hated that her father had been taken from her, hated that his life’s work was about to be divided up into shares. More than that, she hated that the perception she had of him had been nothing more than an illusion—an illusion that had been shattered with seemingly no way for it to ever be repaired.

“Before we begin, I would like to express my sincere condolences for your loss,” Mr. Parsons said, his normally gruff voice softened with sincerity. “I knew Reginald for many years and will sorely miss his sense of humor and quick wit. I can remember the time—”

Lily bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling when the man claiming to be her half brother, Jack Sinclair, rudely cleared his throat and glanced at his watch as if he wanted to hurry things along. How could a man as warm and loving as her father had been have spawned such a cold, unfeeling son?

Her oldest brother RJ’s scowl was formidable. “In a hurry to be somewhere, Sinclair?”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” Jack stated flatly. “How long is this going to take, Parsons?”

Mr. Parsons’s bushy white eyebrows met in a disapproving frown above his reading glasses. “It will take as long as it takes, young man.”

“Please don’t, Jack,” Angela Sinclair begged, her voice trembling as she placed her hand on her son’s arm. Her chin-length blond hair swayed slightly as she shook her head. “Please don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.”

If circumstances had been different, Lily would have probably felt sorry for the woman. It had been apparent yesterday at the funeral and today as they sat awaiting the reading of the will that she was taking the death of Reginald Kincaid extremely hard. But considering the nurse had been her father’s mistress for the past thirty years and had shown up to mourn his death as if she and her sons were a legitimate part of the family, it was almost more than Lily could bear. Angela Sinclair either didn’t realize or didn’t care about what a shock and devastation it would be for the Kincaid family.

“You’ll have to excuse my brother’s impatience,” Alan Sinclair spoke up, giving Lily and her family a sympathetic smile. “I’m afraid Jack is still trying to come to grips with Reginald’s death.”

Angela’s youngest son, Alan, seemed to be the exact opposite of his older half-brother in every way. While Jack was tall, with dark hair, blue eyes and a cold, ruthless demeanor, Alan was shorter, had dark blond hair and hazel eyes like his mother, and appeared to be sympathetic to the shock and disbelief the Kincaids were going through. Not only were they having to cope with the death of their father, possibly by his own hand, they had been blindsided by the ugly truth of his clandestine life.

“Don’t apologize for me,” Jack growled, turning his hard stare on the younger man. There was such animosity in his expression, it was obvious there was no love lost between the two. “I have nothing to be sorry about.”

“Enough!” RJ said, his voice deadly. Turning to the lawyer, he nodded. “Please continue, Mr. Parsons.”

“If Sinclair doesn’t want to stick around for the details, I’m sure you can send him a letter outlining what our father wished to leave him,” Matt said, backing up RJ.

Only a few years older than herself, her brother Matt had already seen his share of heartache. It had been only a year since he had buried his wife, Grace, and been left to raise their young son, Flynn, on his own. Losing their father so soon after her passing had to bring up some very painful memories for him.

Lily glanced at her mother to see how she was holding up through this latest upheaval. The epitome of a true Southern lady, Elizabeth Kincaid had maintained an elegant calm about her throughout this whole ordeal that Lily couldn’t help but envy. It appeared her mother was faring much better than Lily and her two sisters. Laurel, Lily’s oldest sister, kept dabbing at her tears with a lace-edged hankie, while Kara looked as if she was in a state of total shock.

“Please continue, Harold,” her mother said, smoothing a strand of short, dark auburn hair into place.

“Very well, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Parsons said, using “miss” the way most older Southern gentlemen did with any lady, single or married. He read aloud the preliminary legalese, then clearing his throat, began to go through the list of her father’s assets. “‘Regarding my personal properties, I would like for them to be divided as such. To my son RJ, I leave the Great Oak Lodge in the Smoky Mountains. To my daughter Laurel, I leave my beach house on the Outer Banks. To my daughter Kara, I leave my vacation home on Hilton Head Island. To my son Matthew, I leave the Kincaid family farmhouse where we used to spend holidays. And to my daughter Lily, I leave the Colonel Samuel Beauchamp House in the Battery.’”