In the Enemy's Arms by Marilyn Pappano

irresponsible, reckless, immature—”
    “You could have stopped after ‘you,’” he grumbled. “I got the picture. True enough. Except that the brothers inherited a chain of hotels right after college and found out they have an ability to make more money than they ever imagined. They own an interest in every top hotel or resort in the entire southern hemisphere, or so it seems.”
    “Trust-fund babies creating trust funds for their own babies. Who would have thought.”
    Her surprise honed the edge of his irritation. “You know, Trent and I don’t jet around all the time figuring ways to deplete our trust funds even faster. We do stuff, too.”
    * * *
    Cate took a moment to mimic him, pushing back the quilt, sliding off her shoes, banking pillows behind her for comfort. She might wish for that warm beer or fine tequila of Tio Pablo’s, but she was truly comfortable for the first time since dawn. “What does Trent do besides help out at La Casa?”
    “‘Help out’? Is that all you think it is? He deals with all the fundraising. He brings in new money, and he updates the regular donors on what their donations are doing and keeps them happy enough to continue sending money. He does all the PR, arranges events for the girls and coordinates all the volunteers from the U.S. It’s a full-time job for which he receives a room to sleep in and free meals, as long as he does some of the cooking or the cleaning.”
    Her first thought was to argue. That sounded like a do-gooder, which Trent certainly was not. Doing good was something he did for himself, not underprivileged kids in another country.
    But he said he loved Susanna, and he said it with far more sincerity than he’d ever given Cate. People could change for love, could become better and kinder. She had to consider it was possible. Rather, she had to consider it might be permanent. She had to admit, every time she heard from him or Susanna, she expected it to be the time she heard that he’d gotten bored and said goodbye to Susanna, the school and the girls to return to his thrill-seeking, globe-trotting life. After all, he’d committed to her, and how long had it been before he’d left?
    Could Susanna be different? Could the love he claimed for her be so much more substantive than the undying love he’d pledged to Cate? Could Susanna hold him when Cate couldn’t? And would Cate mind if she did?
    “Okay,” she agreed. “Let’s say Trent has transformed into Saint Trent of La Casa para Nuestras Hijas.”
    Justin’s jaw tightened at her supposition, but she didn’t let it stop her. His jaw had tightened, his brow had furrowed or his eyes had gone hard every time she’d ever seen him. It was part of the animosity that he usually managed to cover with sarcasm, faked good humor or mocking.
    “What about you? What do you do? ”
    “I—” He stopped abruptly, and his expression turned totally blank. It wasn’t as if he suddenly realized he had nothing to say, but as if he’d put up a wall instead. As if he had nothing he wanted to say to her.
    The expression remained a moment before shifting into something sly, almost good-natured but not, almost relaxed but not. He moved into a more comfortable position, looking amazingly lazy and loose and, yes, damn it, handsome. “Let’s see, in the past few years I’ve dived the ten best spots in the world. I trekked through the rain forest in southeast Asia and traveled the Amazon by canoe from the headwaters to the Atlantic. I spent last Christmas in Moscow and my birthday in the Gobi Desert. I hiked across Central America and had only a few run-ins with angry men with guns.” His smile was the smuggest she could imagine. “Who knew money speaks every language?”
    She stared at him, her back teeth hurting, but it wasn’t the usual urge to smack the grin off his face. She’d already shoved him a couple times today and pinched him in the car. She, who never lost her temper, never lost control, who was so