Hightower Affairs 2: Bedding the Secret Heiress (13 page)

Lauren. His heart jolted into a faster rhythm. He hadn’t spoken to her since Trent had greeted him at the airport with news of his father’s hospitalization. Afterward, while his father had lain in intensive care hovering between life and death, calling anyone had never crossed his mind.

His exhaustion vanished. His formerly leaded limbs suddenly felt lighter. He opened the door.

With her arms wrapped around her middle, she stood shivering and pale on his porch without a coat. Her hair was disheveled and a worried pleat creased her brow. She didn’t look like she’d been resting during her days off.

She stared up at him. “I’m sorry. I know it’s late, but can I come in?”

“Of course.” Because he wanted so badly to take her into his arms, he stepped out of the way instead. She passed by, leaving a hint of flowers in the air. He closed the door. She shifted on her feet looking ill at ease. “What’s wrong, Lauren?”

“I received the accident report on my father’s crash today, and I…I need you to help me make sense of it.”

Having been through hell and back with his father in the past few days, her unusual vulnerability pulled at something familiar deep in his chest. He took her hand in his. Her fingers were as cold as ice. He led her to his den. A flick of a switch ignited the gas logs. He
sat on an ottoman in front of the fireplace and pulled her down beside him.

A shudder racked her. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. The action felt eerily natural and comfortable. She pressed her face into the open V of his robe. The shock of her cold cheek against his skin contrasted with the warmth of her breath on his flesh. Thoughts of bed returned, this time not involving the eight hours of uninterrupted sleep he needed. But sex wasn’t what Lauren needed right now. And hell, as tired as he was, he wasn’t sure he was capable. A humbling thought.

He rubbed her stiff back. “What did the report say?”

“My father didn’t commit suicide. At least not intentionally.”

Unintentional suicide didn’t compute. “Explain.”

“He—
we
—built an experimental aircraft, my father, Lou and me. Dad planned to patent the design and sell it. But—” she inhaled shakily “—the design was flawed. Dad knew it. My mother knew it. Even my uncle knew. But Dad flew the stupid plane anyway. He pushed it beyond its limits…and it killed him.”

Her words echoed his concerns about his own father who seemed hell-bent on following a dream regardless of the costs. “Go on.”

“Gage, I spent almost as many hours working on that plane as he did. I should have seen the flaw.”

Self-blame. Another familiar refrain. He understood and had experienced the same helpless frustration numerous times. His determination to fix his father’s life had caused a rift between him and his dad that seemed unbridgeable. They’d barely spoken in the past few years.

“Lauren, the accident wasn’t your fault.”

Her eyes beseeched him, and he wanted to sweep in like a superhero and fix her problems.

“He never asked what
I
wanted. I would much rather have my father alive and with me than have a damned airplane named after me. I’m a better pilot. If he’d let me fly it—”

A crushing sensation settled on his chest. “Then you might be dead instead of him. My father also has an apparent death wish, and he’s more than willing to die for what he believes in. Helping others might sound like an admirable goal, but not at the risk of his personal safety.

“I realized years ago that I can’t control him. Not that I haven’t tried. But he’s not a child. What he does is not my fault. The best I can do is be around to pick up the pieces.”

She leaned back, her eyes brimming with questions. “What happened?”

He hadn’t intended to share his past with her, but he’d already shared more with Lauren than anyone else except Trent. And Trent only knew because he’d lived through some of it with Gage. An urgent need for her to know who he was and where he’d come from rose within him.

“I told you I lived in the family car for a while.” He waited for her nod. “Before that my father was a successful real estate developer. His dreams were always larger than life, and we lived the high life. Not on the Hightowers’ level, but close. By the time I turned ten he’d overextended himself, taking on more debt than he could handle. Then the real estate market tanked. He hadn’t prepared for that, and he lost everything, including our home. We lived in the family car for six months. My mother bailed after three.

“Dad never regained the drive to try again. We were
in and out of public housing projects and shelters after that because he couldn’t hold a job. He wasn’t cut out for taking orders or being anyone’s subordinate. He was too used to being the boss.”

The sympathy in Lauren’s eyes almost dammed his words. “What about your mother?”

He shrugged. “I never saw her again and haven’t looked for her.”

“Not knowing you is her loss, Gage.” Her fingers squeezed his. “Is your father still alive?”

“Not for lack of trying to kill himself. Seven years ago I bought him a house, but he insists on hanging out at the local homeless shelter. He claims he’s found his true calling in helping others.

“It’s a rough inner-city crowd, and Dad doesn’t hesitate to step in when fights break out. He’s been hurt a few times, but this week—” Knowing how close he’d come to losing his father made his throat close up. “This week he tried to break up a knife fight and got sliced up. By the time I reached the hospital he’d already flat-lined once, but they’d brought him back. I’ve been there since we landed.”

“That’s why Trent was waiting for us—for you?”

“Yes. Tonight they moved Dad out of intensive care. He’s going to pull through. That’s the only reason I came home. For a shower and some sleep.”

“Gage, I’m sorry.” Her sincerity shone in her eyes and his lungs took a siesta. He wasn’t used to someone caring for him. And then he realized he’d never allowed anyone to. He’d kept his acquaintances at a distance and never let them see behind the wall he’d built around himself. Only Lauren had blasted through, by refusing to back off when he threw up barricades.

Head reeling at the discovery, he tried to remember
his point. “I wish I could believe this would teach Dad a lesson, but it won’t. Lauren, our parents make choices over which we have no control. You can’t beat yourself up over it. You have to let them live their lives the same way you want them to let you live yours.”

Her wide gaze held his and he saw acceptance slowly seep in followed by gratitude then regret. She mentally pulled away before she stiffened in his arms. “Thank you for helping me make sense of this. I should get out of here and let you rest.”

The idea of her leaving repelled him. “Stay.”

“You need sleep.”

“I need you more.” The minute the words left his mouth he knew they were true. After seeing his father’s failure and his mother’s and ex-wife’s fickle natures, Gage had sworn he’d never allow himself to need anyone again. But Lauren made him want more than just a financially secure future. She made him want someone to share it with.

And allowing himself to want something he couldn’t control scared the crap out of him.

T
he warmth of the fire at Lauren’s back couldn’t compare to the heat in Gage’s eyes. Her heart blipped wildly and her mouth moistened as Gage lowered his head.

His lips swept hers so tenderly, emotion welled up in her throat. Choking back a sob, she broke the kiss, buried her face in his neck and wrapped her arms around his middle, hugging him as tightly as she could.

Gage soothed her with long strokes down her spine and soft kisses in her hair, on her temple, along her jaw. The tumultuous feelings inside her morphed into something altogether different, and by the time his mouth returned to hers, Lauren ached for him and for the passion and momentary oblivion he could offer.

She tunneled her fingers into the opening of his robe, gliding her hands over his warm, supple skin and savoring each hiss of his breath. She wasn’t supposed to feel this close to him, this emotionally bonded to him.
He was supposed to be temporary, a plane that passed in the night-dark sky.

He rose, pulling her to her feet, then with one powerful kick he sent the ottoman skidding out of the way. He peeled away her clothing with economical precision. Her sweater, bra, pants and panties landed in a pile on the floor. He stepped back, his eyes devouring her as he stripped off his robe and spread it on the rug in front of the fire.

He scooped her into his arms, startling a gasp out of her and knelt to gently lay her on his robe. Thick velour fabric cushioned her back. Seconds later his hot body blanketed her front, before he slid to her side, freeing his hands to map her body with devastating, bone-melting thoroughness.

In the past they’d made love feverishly, but this time Gage lingered, painting languorous circles over her breasts, belly and thighs alternately with his palms and fingertips, making her core shudder with every pass closer and closer to her center.

Hungry for him, she captured his face in her hands and brought his mouth back to hers. His tongue plunged in, sweeping, stroking. His fingers mimicked the action, delving into her curls, finding her moisture, caressing her most sensitive spot until her back bowed as pleasure twined ever tighter inside her.

She tore her mouth away to gasp and grip his shoulders as release shuddered through her like the rise and fall of turbulence, and then drained, she melted into the floor.

He pulled her into his arms and soothed her with gentle kisses. She forced her heavy lids open. Banked hunger still raged in his eyes and in the erection pressing to her hip, but he made no move to drive inside her the way she wanted him to.

“Your turn.” She tried to push him onto his back, but he resisted.

He brushed his lips over hers. “This time was all about you, baby.”

She stroked her fingertips down his chest until she reached the rigid flesh between them and coiled her hand around him. “Gage, let me make you feel as good as you made me.”

He caressed her face. “You do that by being here.”

Her heart and lungs contracted as if a giant fist had squeezed them, and Lauren knew she was in trouble.

This wasn’t just about sex or two people finding comfort and pleasure in each other.

She’d fallen in love with Gage Faulkner.

Run, run home to Daytona. You have your answers. Now you can go.

She mentally dug in her heels, even though she’d already lived through the rich man–working girl scenario once before and knew a happy ending was unlikely. The ugly finish of her relationship with Whit had nearly broken her, and she hadn’t felt nearly as connected to him as she did to Gage. That had been a Cinderella fantasy.

This…this was love. And it was terrifying and exhilarating. And she was not going to run from it.

Her life was a mess. She had no business dragging Gage into it. But if she wanted even a slim chance of a future with him, she had to tell him the whole truth, and hope he believed her and not Trent’s poison. And maybe if she was very,
very
lucky, Gage would help her find a way to save Falcon Air.

She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out. She wouldn’t tell him, not tonight. Tonight he was tired, and she wanted to sleep in his arms knowing she loved him.

Tomorrow would be soon enough to find out if he was going to break her heart.

Gage absently stirred the eggs while he tried to figure out what about the way he and Lauren had made love this morning bothered him. The prolonged episode, while still hot and extremely satisfying, had felt like a goodbye.

Everything in him rejected the idea. He wasn’t going to let her go. Lauren tormented and tested him, but she’d also made him feel more alive than he had in years. Having her in bed beside him when he’d awoken this morning had felt
right
—like a habit to which he would like to become accustomed.

How could he make it work when her life was in Daytona and his business was here? It would be business suicide for her to move Falcon Air onto Hightowers’ home field. But he’d worked long and hard to build a Faulkner Consulting team he could trust. He wouldn’t break them apart. The past few weeks had proven that with a jet and a pilot on call he could get anywhere faster. Would a long-distance affair last?

“Gage,” Lauren called from behind him. The quiver of her voice caused the fine hairs on his nape to prickle with unease. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

He knew before he turned off the burner and faced her that whatever she had to say would likely blow his good mood to smithereens.

She hovered near the entrance of his breakfast area, her long legs bare beneath the hem of one of his white T-shirts. He could see the shadows of her areolas and the points of her nipples through the fabric. Desire pulsed in his groin even though he’d made love to her barely an hour ago.

Worry clouded her eyes and furrowed her forehead. He nodded, indicating she continue.

“I learned more from my mother than about my father’s crash.” She pleated the hem of his shirt between her fingers, flashing him glimpses of her upper thigh.

He forced his gaze from her sexy legs to her face. “Go on.”

“Please hear me out before you jump to conclusions.”

The burn in his stomach intensified.

“Jacqui has been funding my father for years, beginning with paying for the aeronautical engineering study then for improvements to the plane.”

That answered Trent’s question about where the money had been going. “How much?”

“I don’t know exactly. She wouldn’t say. And then…” She bit her lip and glanced away. Her breasts rose and fell on a deep in-and exhalation before her cautious gaze returned to his. He braced himself.

“She paid off my airplane loan.”

Her words hit him like a sucker punch. The missing two hundred grand.

“I found out while we were in San Francisco when I tried to make my payment online.”

If you won’t give me what I need, then I’m going back to Daytona and we ’re done.

Lauren had been furious and insistent with the person on the other end of the phone. Looked as if she’d gotten her way, and her way was little better than extortion.

“Gage, I didn’t ask her to pay it.”

He didn’t believe her. He’d heard the argument.

“I’ve told her a hundred times that I don’t want her money. I’ve never wanted her frilly dresses or dumb dolls or useless manicures. All I wanted was a mother who’d braid my hair, kiss my boo-boos and teach me
about boys and makeup. Things money can’t buy. And all I wanted when I came to Knoxville was answers. Until last night she withheld those.”

Her words gushed like water from a broken mainline, pouring over each other in a tumbled rush. Was she protesting too much? In his line of work he’d learned that those with something to hide always gave more information than the situation required. They talked fast and avoided eye contact—exactly the way Lauren was doing now.

“I intend to get a loan and pay her back. If I can. But—”

“But what, Lauren?”

She fidgeted uneasily with fussy fingers, wiggly toes, shifting shoulders. “Falcon Air is in trouble. Before my father approached Jacqui for money, he borrowed heavily against the company to finance building his plane. If the insurance company finds out he knew the plane was faulty and chose to fly it even though he’d been warned against it by the engineer, they may not pay. If that happens, I might lose Falcon Air…” Her pleading gaze met his. “Unless you’ll help me.”

He recoiled. Trent had been right. Lauren had been trying to get her hooks into the Hightower fortune. Gage felt like a fool for once again being taken in by a woman’s lies.

What was his problem? A little sexual attraction and his brain ceased to function? He’d be damned if he’d let her humiliate him the way Angela had—Angela, who’d strung him along with her professed adoration, her duplicitous nature and her betrayal.

“What you’re telling me is you and your father have been milking Jacqueline for cash for years, and now you want to tap into me, too.”

She paled. “No.
No
. I want your business consulting expertise to help me turn Falcon around. I’ve seen you work, Gage. I know you can do it.”

“You want to hire me?”

She bit her lip. “I’m not sure I can afford you. But I’m sure we can work out something.”

“Like what? Sex for services rendered?”

She flinched and then her chin lifted and her shoulders squared. “How can you say that?”

“Seems obvious. You want something from me, and you’re willing to sleep with me to get it.”

Dots of angry color appeared on her cheeks. “I was trying to barter with you in a way that would benefit us both. I was thinking more along the lines of trading my piloting skills for your business acumen. You need to travel. I have a plane. I want to save my company and the jobs of all Falcon’s employees. Gage, I don’t want your money. You have to believe me. I love you.”

A jolt from a defibrillator would hurt less. The pain jarred his body. Her declaration was a perfect example that women would say and do anything to get what they wanted. How many times had his ex sworn she loved him? How many times had he looked into her eyes and believed her lies? How many times had he been a fool?

And then Angela and her lawyers had screwed him over. He’d almost lost Faulkner Consulting. As it was, she’d stripped him of every liquid asset he had, and he’d had to start rebuilding the security he’d worked so damned hard for from scratch because of her greed.

But he wanted to believe Lauren, ached to believe her, and his weakness disgusted him. “No.”

“No? That’s it? No?”

“You’re on your own. I no longer need a pilot or you. Goodbye, Lauren. You know your way out.”

She stared at him for ten full seconds, her bottom lip quivering until she caught it between her teeth, then she turned and staggered from the room. He was a little surprised she didn’t argue. He had to fight the compulsion to go after her as he listened to her climb the stairs then descend moments later. The front door opened then closed. Lauren’s big V-10 engine roared in the driveway then the sound faded away.

He congratulated himself on averting another disastrous mercenary relationship.

But the relief he’d expected to feel was nowhere in sight.

Lauren stared at the life insurance check in her hand and recounted the zeroes.

She looked up at her uncle Lou. “This is enough to pay off everything Dad borrowed against Falcon Air and give us a nice cushion. Our financial problems are solved.”

So why didn’t she feel better?

“Hallelujah. Now if we can get your personal problems fixed, we’ll be right as rain.”

She stiffened. She thought she’d done a better job of hiding her broken heart by diving right in and assuming her dad’s old duties in addition to hers. “I don’t have any problems.”

“Bull. You’ve been moping around here for three weeks. If your face gets any longer you’ll run over your bottom lip with your landing gear.”

“I’m pulling my weight.”

“Yes, baby girl, you are. But like the sign behind you says, ‘Making a living is not the same as making a life.’” He pointed to the sign hanging on the wall behind her father’s—now her desk. “You’re running on autopilot and logging too many hours. I’m guessing you
have unfinished business back in Knoxville. And I don’t mean with your momma.”

“Then you’d be guessing wrong. Without trust you have nothing. And that’s what I left in Knoxville. Nothing.” Too bad her heart hadn’t signed off on that plan.

She rubber-stamped the back of the check with For Deposit Only then rose and gathered her gear. “I have a lesson to teach. Send Joey out to the Cirrus when he gets here.”

She slapped Lou in the belly with the check as she passed. “Take this to the bank when you leave for lunch.”

“Lauren, it hurts me to see you like this.”

Lou’s gruff, but gentle voice stopped her in the doorway. Her aching heart swelled for love of this man. He and Falcon Air were all she had left. “Don’t sweat it, Lou. It’s like a cold. I’ll get over it.”

She pivoted and strode out of the office. Her stupid stinging eyes started watering again. Damn Florida’s fall grass and weed pollen.

She shoved on her sunglasses then walked around her newly refinanced airplane, doing her preflight check even though she knew she’d make her student repeat the process. The routine soothed her.

As soon as she’d returned from Knoxville, she’d applied for a new loan. When the loan had come through last week she’d mailed a check to Trent with a brief explanation because she’d known her mother wouldn’t accept her money. Her half brother hadn’t bothered to reply. Said a lot about what he thought of her. But that was just as well. She wanted nothing to do with the Hightowers, either.

Tomorrow when the life insurance check cleared, she’d pay off the rest of Falcon’s debts, and she’d once again be free and clear except for the Cirrus.

Life was good.

So why didn’t it feel like it?

The last time Gage had found Trent waiting for him outside on the tarmac at the bottom of the airplane stairs, the news his friend had delivered hadn’t been good. Judging by Trent’s drawn face and tight lips, what he had to say today wasn’t going to be any better.