Her Unexpected Affair (The Robinsons)

This was a detour worth taking . . .

For as long as she can remember, Meilin Wu has had her life mapped out, and she’s well down her chosen path—which had no warning signs about a tall, golden Brit who would bowl her over the night before her arranged marriage . . .

Drew Robinson has nearly finished his formal education and is ready to face the world when he meets Meilin, an exquisite beauty with Chinese ancestry. He doesn’t mind she’s ten years older, and the fact she knows Mandarin only makes her that much more a perfect fit for his upcoming adventures in China. He just has to get her to dump her fiancé and convince her that a trip in China will only enhance her established design business.

Easy for a guy who’s known for seeing sunshine wherever he goes. Right?

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The Robinsons series

Her Foreign Affair

Her Unexpected Affair

Rachel Dahlrumple

Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

The Robinsons series

Shea McMaster

LYRICAL PRESS

Kensington Publishing Corp.

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Copyright © 2016 by Shea McMaster

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First Electronic Edition: June 2016

eISBN-13: 978-1-60183-820-9

eISBN-10: 1-60183-820-4

First Print Edition: June 2016

ISBN-13: 978-1-60183-822-3

ISBN-10: 1-60183-822-0

Printed in the United States of America

To the Mills College Women who helped shape this and many of my books, specifically:

Jennifer Weilbach, Beth Woolbright, Kerstin Mancini, Marybeth McLaughlin, Olivia Lovett, Martha McMaster Quimby, and Doris George (In Memoriam).

For you girls belong to Mills, and Mills belongs to you.

This book came together with the help of many, many people. In no particular order, I offer my gratitude to:

Martin Biro of Kensington for suggesting a trilogy when I’d considered Her Foreign Affair a stand-alone novel.

Editor Paige Christian for her humor, patience, wisdom, and encouragement.

Long time friend Jennifer Weilbach for her never-ending help with plotting and Alpha-reading – the one person who has read every single word since I started writing in 2004.

Marybeth McLaughlin for help with the few Chinese sentences I felt brave enough to use, insight into a Chinese immersion school experience, and for beta reading – it’s been fun to reconnect after so many years and hear about your adventurous life.

Kerstin Mancini for once again providing her home and hospitality, both in life and in fiction.

Beth Woolbright for helping with research and providing companionship on my trip to California in the middle of writing this book.

Sister Helena for insight into great dramatic plot twists.

Author and close friend Lizbeth Selvig for taking time out of her busy schedule to provide an in-depth critique, which, as usual, was very spot on in so many ways.

Sprint-writing partner, Carmen Bydalek, who provided the wind beneath my wings.
Without your support this book would have never been finished on time. You’ll never know how many times your dedication to writing on Thursday afternoons and brainstorming pushed me forward when inspiration was low.

Most of all, to Husband Extraordinaire, ‘Mr. McMaster’ the love of my life for these thirty-some years. With this book, you bravely jumped into the role of critiquer and sounding board, providing excellent information and ideas. You also took on the role of househusband and lifted much of the burden of housekeeping, errand running, and mother herding from my shoulders. Life hasn’t always been easy, but it’s usually been interesting.

In part, the idea for this story came from the book Fifth Chinese Daughter. It seems this book has always been part of my life, or rather, the title has. I didn’t actually read the book until starting this one.

Jade Snow Wong is a graduate of Mills College. At the time her book was first published, my mother was a student at Mills College. She has a signed copy of the first edition. I also graduated from Mills College, but more than forty years after Ms. Wong.

I was born the fifth child. My parents consulted with some Chinese-American friends who did some research and came back with the word Wu as the translation for Five or Fifth. So growing up, I was often called (Shea) Wu, fifth Chinese Daughter. A nickname that sometimes pops up today.

While it may have seemed odd to call a redheaded child Chinese Daughter, it generally brought some chuckles. However, although my roots are in no way Chinese, my family has ties to China/Asia. My mother spent six years during the 1930s living in the Philippines. Her father was an Army officer and when asked why he wanted a third tour of duty there
replied, “It’s the only place in the world I can live as a gentleman on my salary.”

We also have, what I fear is badly damaged by now, film of my mother with her parents and brother in China somewhere around 1938. Those years, and later living near San Francisco, influenced my mother’s taste greatly and we grew up with furnishings and art that reflected this. My house today has several elements of Asian design. We also enjoyed a period of time when Mother developed an interest in Chinese cooking.

I’m no expert in China or her history, but I do find myself drawn to elements of her society. It is my great hope that I have done justice with my limited knowledge in the portrayal of my heroine, Meilin Wu. If there are mistakes, the blame belongs to my own imagination and ignorance.

Satisfaction filled his soul, much like how the now decimated feast being cleared from the table filled his body. Andrew Christian Robinson sat back in his seat at the long dining table, surveying the joyous debris. Christmas Eve tradition demanded that the Robinson family hold an extravagant dinner for not only extended family, but several of the local dignitaries, the Reverend of the family church, and a few family friends with nowhere else to go this night.

However, there was nothing traditional about this year’s celebration. Glasses were raised and congratulations echoed to the heavy Tudor beams overhead. Once he knew Birdie watched from across the table, he glanced toward the ceiling and nodded. As if acknowledging one of the ghosts he’d told her resided in the house. Indeed, it was highly likely a few did haunt the old place. He’d just never seen one. Didn’t stop him from trying to torment her.

Still, if there were ghosts in the rafters, Drew imagined one or two might approve, although some might not. Either way, his father was getting married. Not that any of the humans attending dinner thought that was horrible, but he was now committed to marrying an American he’d fallen in love with twenty-three years earlier. A love that had produced a girl, Drew’s sister, Birdie, whom no one had known about until a month ago. The same one now giving him a skeptical eye from across the table.

Drew wasn’t displeased at all. In fact, he was thrilled to have a sister and a new mother. One who was warm, loving, funny, and very mother-like. Perhaps he’d never be able to lay to rest the ghost of his own mother, good old Beatrice. However, Randi Jean Dailey Ferguson, soon to be Robinson, would at last take her rightful place at his father’s side. Drew already loved her. Had from the moment she’d opened her home to him for Thanksgiving only weeks ago. An invite that’d grown to include his father who’d flown over to visit him at school for his first American holiday.

Seated at their father’s left, his sister kept shooting glances upward. Only three months younger than he, she might have been his twin. It still amazed him that he hadn’t recognized the Robinson golden hair, blue eyes, and sunny disposition in her. He’d met her as Birdie, a fun nickname, but her real name hadn’t been clear until her mother, and their father, were forced to confess their prior relationship. The timing had been damn close as Drew had been trying to figure out how to steal a kiss.

A thought that still twisted his stomach.

Yeah, he’d been attracted to her as he’d never been attracted to another female. He hadn’t understood the feeling, and he’d wanted to investigate it further. Had the story not been told, Drew’s stomach clenched, well, some pretty devastating damage could have occurred. He was still attracted to Birdie, but as a sister, on a soul-deep level. He also felt damned protective of her. Some latent Neanderthal programming to be sure, but she was his sister. And he wasn’t going to let a California meat-headed, beach bum jock use her like a party girl. Not on his watch.

Apparently giving up on ghost hunting for the moment, Birdie smiled at him and tipped her head at their parents sitting to her right, faces dangerously close. Drew lifted his champagne to her, and they shared a silent toast to their new relationship. Next to Birdie, Larry Attenborough, an old school chum of his father, bounced his gaze between Drew and Bird with hawk-sharp eyes.

“Now, really, did you have to keep this secret from me?” Larry asked.

“Too right we did,” Drew answered. “If you’d known earlier, London would be reading about it right now. Instead they’ll have to wait for Boxing Day to get the news.”

Larry made a disgusted sound and dismissed Drew, turning his attention to Birdie. “Tell me about you. Courtney or Birdie? What’s your real name?”

His sister managed to look down her adorable nose at the veteran gossip with an air of regal distain that amused Drew. That look could only be bred into a person, not taught. “My legal name is Courtney, but I’ve always been called Birdie. However, I’m changing that. You may call me Courtney.”

“Named after your old man, eh?” Larry nodded at Court, who paid them no attention whatsoever.

“Yes,” she answered simply. “Although my last name should have been Robinson all along, I’m keeping Ferguson to honor the man who raised me as his own.”

“Right, right. The honorable man who married your mum, knowing she carried another man’s child.” Larry nodded thoughtfully. “Not sure I could be so noble. Looks as if he did a good job of it, though.”

Drew silently agreed. Although Courtney—hell, how was he supposed to adjust to that name? The hell with it, he wouldn’t change—had suffered at the news, she appeared to be coming to grips with it. She’d loved Wyatt Ferguson, the man she’d known as her father all her life, and had mourned his death for the last two years. Now she had to make the mental switch. Certainly she’d taken the news the hardest.