Lacey DeMille is a Lone Star princess with the world at her feet. Seventeen years after being exiled in disgrace for daring to want her, Devlin Marlowe holds the secret that will shatter her world...

Romantic Times TOP PICK!

Finalist, 2000 National Readers' Choice Award

Texas Royalty highlights Jean Brashear's marvelous talent for creating striking romantic stories by blending charismatic characters, compelling conflict and just the right touch of passion.
--Romantic Times (4 1/2 stars)

Texas Royalty is an emotionally rich reunion book. Ripe with secrets, scandals and sexual tension, this is one book you'll not want to put down....Never have I read a book that so thoroughly convinced me the hero and heroine could not be with anyone but each other. Beautifully done!
--Writers Club Romance Group, America Online

It is a credit to Ms Brashear's exceptional skill at plotting and characterization that each of these books can stand alone and still complement each other like a fine wine and a rich dark chocolate. Readers have come to expect uniquely plotted stories and characters so real they could live right next door. With TEXAS ROYALTY, Ms. Brashear doesn't disappoint. BRAVA!!--CompuServe Romance Reviews

She lifted her head, and he was surprised to find himself proud of her strength. "Dev, if this is about what hap—"

He broke in. "No, Lacey. The past is the past. No point in rehashing. It doesn't have anything to do with who we are now." It couldn't. Wouldn't. Not anymore. Too much was at stake.

Confusion swirled in her gaze, and he cursed himself silently. He'd lost his cool. It couldn't happen again. "Let's start all over." He held out his hand. "Ms. DeMille, pleased to meet you. The name's Devlin Marlowe."

She looked at his hand as if it were a rattlesnake. Then she glanced back up at him, and he wished he knew what she was thinking. "Maybe we should talk, Dev—"

"No." If he knew one thing, it was that nothing was to be gained by digging into their past. "It was nothing. We were kids. Life goes on."

He almost thought he saw a quick flare of hurt. He started to drop his hand and tell her to forget the whole thing—but then, very slowly, her hand rose from her side and slid against his skin.

And Dev felt as if someone had plowed a fist straight into his gut.

For one treacherous second, his mind was filled with silvered moonlight on pale, smooth skin. With hot, deep kisses and a longing he'd never felt before—or since.

It was all Dev could do not to drop her hand like a hot potato, but instead, he even surprised himself. He drew her hand up to his lips. He breathed in her scent, redolent of spices and tropical flowers, and he closed his eyes so she wouldn't see how much he wanted her. How much memory claimed him. How much she had the power to hurt him.

Still.

He pressed his mouth to her knuckles and heard her tiny gasp.

Then he let her go and summoned the strength to smile like nothing mattered.

"I know you want to back out. I hope you won't." He waited a beat. "The decision is yours. I'll call you."

Then he walked away, feeling as if he'd just stepped back from the edge of a very steep cliff.

He was not dashing his body on the rocks for Lacey DeMille again.