Seducing an Heiress (15 page)

Not an annoyance. An old wound.

"I lost my mother when I was thirteen," she offered, very familiar with lasting pain and its sting. "That's when I went to live with Dad. He wouldn't let me take anything with me, said it was all garbage. But I threw such a fit over my mother's jewelry box, he finally gave in. It was the first and last time I ever won an argument with him. Until the night I walked out."

"Did you take the jewelry box?"

"I couldn't. The only way I was able to escape was to tell security I had to meet clients for drinks." She traced the contours of his chest with her finger, remembering how she'd almost changed her mind because of that jewelry box. 

"Before she died, my mother made me promise to always keep it with me," she reflected. "She said someday I might need what was inside it to keep me safe, but I never understood what that meant. There was nothing of value, but I always kept my promise. Until that night."

"I was fifteen when my mother died. I didn't know until years later."

Surprise coursed through her and questions flooded her mind. Questions she wasn't sure she had a right to ask. 

She rocked her head back to look up at him. He stared at the stripes of the blinds illuminated now by the street light in the parking lot. His face was blank, as if the classic lines of his profile had been captured in marble.

"When I was seven, social services took me to live with Grandfather" he said, his tone flat like he was talking about someone he barely knew, or had only heard of. "I guess I was too much for Mom to handle, but my sister stayed. For a while, anyway."

Dakota clamped down on her gasp of distress and surprise, catching the sound before it escaped. She sensed that the least noise, the least movement would ruin the spell cocooning them. 

"I ran away four times because Rosie needed me. Mom didn't know how to take care of her." Trey's chest expanded on a deep breath, his gaze still locked on the window seeing things she couldn't. "Grandfather never punished me for it. He'd give me this sad look...it broke my heart.

"Eventually I stopped running and hoarding food and a hundred other strange behaviors that even I didn't understand. I put on a little weight. I made friends, learned to play. After a year, I hardly ever thought about them."

"You became a normal kid," she said, softly.

"Yeah. Selfish. But happy." He pulled in another breath. "I was happy for the first time in my life. Then Grandfather died of a heart attack. I found him in his chair when I got home from school. They told me he went in his sleep."

Tears stung her eyes. She tried to hold them back, knowing he would hate it, that he'd think she pitied him. But she couldn't. They slid down and splashed onto his shoulder. He didn't seem to notice.

"Social services came for me, again," he continued. "I was eleven by then, but I was just as scared. And pissed. Lived in nine different foster homes before they cut me loose at eighteen."

She blinked back her grief, not daring to speak. She had no idea what she could say, anyway--that she wished she could get his childhood back for him, that she ached to erase his pain?

"What about your dad?" she asked in a rough whisper.

Trey shifted onto his side and looked down at her. "I barely remember him. He was drunk a lot and left not long after Rosie was born. A year or so later the cops came and told Mom he was dead."

She swallowed. "I'm...I'm so sorry, Trey."

An ironic smile played around his mouth. "He was as good as he knew how to be. One of my memories is of him dancing Mom around the kitchen and singing 'Yellow Submarine' at the top of his lungs. I laughed so hard I almost wet myself." He cupped her face in his palm and his gaze skimmed over her features. "It could have been worse."

"You said your mother was dead. What about your sister?"

His expression shut down so quickly it was like a door slamming in her face. Just like that the moment was gone. Disappointment closed over her. 

She wished she could take back the words, but there was nothing she could do except watch him tug the covers up over them.

"It's late. We better get some sleep." He pulled her into the curve of his body and closed his eyes. In moments, his breathing slowed and grew steady.

A long time later Dakota still lay awake, her thoughts tangling and knotting with a deep and quiet fear as she wondered about his life and the secrets that lay within him. 

Trepidation crept over her mind and a cold wave of dread went through her stomach. Something terrible had happened tonight.

She was afraid she was starting to care.

*  *  *

Dakota stretched, feeling pleasantly sore. Sleep had restored her and she'd realized that Trey's impressive skills as a lover had taken her somewhat unawares and led to conclusions that were completely unfounded. In the light of day she felt ready to put aside crazy late night illusions that her heart might be softening to him and just enjoy the moment. She rolled over ready to do just that. 

The bed was empty.

Ruthlessly pushing down her disappointment, she snuggled back under the blankets, determined to enjoy sleeping in and not give Trey a passing thought. He did live right next door. It was perfectly reasonable for him to go back to his own bed to get some sleep.

Her determination to keep a light touch where their relationship was concerned faded and morphed into an itchy restlessness that she couldn't shake. Giving up the pretense of relaxing, she tossed aside the covers and got out of bed. 

Showered and dressed with the need for a cup of hot coffee foremost in her mind, Dakota wandered into the living room.

Wonder froze her in mid-step and her mouth fell open.

Shiny clean and with a chewed bow dangling from his collar, Hamlet sat in her living room tied to a chair. At the sight of her, his tail swept the floor, wagging vigorously. 

Dakota snapped her mouth closed. "What are you doing here?" She rushed over to the dog, fielding enthusiastic kisses while she tried to loosen the knot of the leash. "Did Trey do this?" Giving up on the knot, she unsnapped the leash from his collar.

Hamlet jumped on the sofa and lay down. That's when Dakota noticed the white card sitting on the end table. 

Snatching it up, she plopped down next to Hamlet. "Dakota," she read to the dog, "your new landlord allows pets. Coffee is in the pot."

She lowered the card and looked at the dog.
Her
dog. "Short and to the point. Welcome home, kiddo." She ruffled his ears and a hesitant joy welled up into her chest, filling her throat and bringing a sheen of moisture to her eyes.

Her dog. Because of Trey. Because he'd bought the building and kicked the oppressive and horrible Mr. Castella out on his butt.

A piece from the shell around her heart fell away and she flung her arms around the animal's neck, wishing Trey was there so she could thank him.

Scrubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand, she kissed Hamlet on the head and jumped to her feet. She needed something to distract her from the cozy feeling spreading through her heart. Something like coffee and breakfast. She wondered if Trey had thought to get dog food.

Tramping into the kitchen, she found another note next to the coffee maker. 

"I got a job. See Chelsea," she read out loud. Hamlet sat down at her feet and cocked his head. 

"That was fast." She squatted down next to the dog and hugged him again. "I guess I'll have to see Chelsea if I want to know more, huh?" Hamlet licked her chin.

She stroked his sweet face with her hands. "Why am I so happy? I'm falling for a man who's leaving my life forever in two weeks. What kind of a sucker does that make me?"

The worst kind, that's what.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Stepping into the reception area of Look the Part, Dakota froze in disbelief for the second time that day and it wasn't even lunchtime, yet. "What are you doing here?"

Trey looked up from the papers spread across the secretary's desk. "You told me to get a job." 

"Here?"

"I remembered the empty desk and thought they might be able to use someone temporarily."

Her eyes narrowed. "When were you here?"

His expression turned sultry and her heart kicked into double time. "You look beautiful. I was sorry to have to leave you this morning."

An electric buzz quivered deep and low and her heartbeat quickened. What had she been asking him?

Dakota's eyes widened. The slick devil. She jammed her fists onto her hips. "No more tricks, Trey. When were you here?"

Leaning back in his chair he studied her, his gaze assessing. "I was checking up on Lambert." 

"Thank you for the straight answer," she said, happy she'd caught on to one of the ways he dodged questions. "And thank you for Hamlet and his crate full of stuff," she added warmly. The amazement she'd felt at his thoughtfulness filled her chest with happiness all over again.

"Glad to do it." He bent his dark head over the papers and ran a finger down what looked like a long list of items.

"Are you Chelsea's new receptionist?" she asked, curious to know what had inspired him to choose such a job.

His dimples flashed on and off around his mouth. "You sound skeptical. Don't tell me you're one of those chauvinists who doesn't believe in men's equality?" He made a note next to one of the columns and then glanced up at her.

"I...of course not! If you want to be a receptionist, I would never-- You're teasing me!"

"I am." His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Pay back for catching me before." 

She dropped into one of the chairs across from him, not sure how to take the new Trey. "I'm just surprised she hired you. They're having a little trouble getting things off the ground." 

"Mr. Lambert signed up before he left town," Chelsea said as she breezed in from the back room.

"Chels, that's great," Dakota said, grinning.

"Is he your first customer?" Trey asked, returning to his columns.

"No," Chelsea said indignantly as she handed Dakota a cup of coffee. "He's the third."

"Much more impressive," Trey said, his tone full of irony.

"I'm looking forward to the challenge and keep your opinions to yourself." She turned back to Dakota. "So hard to find good help these days."

"I can see that." She hid her smile by taking a sip from her mug. "Is Lori at her dad's?"

"Helping him with taxes. Never a fun time."

Dakota thought about the continuous struggles of Mr. Andrews to keep his candy store running. The shop had been a part of Harts Creek culture since the fifties, but after the big companies took over the market, he'd had an uphill battle staying solvent. Another example of how money and greed hurt people. 

She watched Trey work over his columns, her thoughts and emotions churning. He was such a mixture of values she didn't know what to think, what to hope for. Would he learn to appreciate Harts Creek as she had, or would he only go through the motions in order to get her back to Jamison Enterprises? 

Was it possible he could learn to care for her? Not love, she wasn't so inexperienced as to aspire to that, but some level of respect. Maybe even affection. Something that could carry them forward for more than a few days or a couple weeks.

Then again, maybe she was naïve. Trey really wasn't the kind of guy to stick with one girl for very long. To be fair, he'd never pretended otherwise. She'd gone in with open eyes and she hadn't fared too badly in the bargain. He was fun to be with and a satisfying lover. That was a lot more than she'd ever hoped to find.

One thing was certain, he could never know of her softening feelings toward him. He would either take advantage of them, or they would scare the crap out of him. Either way was no good for her. 

She had to play it cool and enjoy each moment for what it was with no expectations for the future. With a healthy attitude like that, she'd come out of this whole and happy, right?

"Dakota?" Chelsea waved a hand in front of her face. 

Dakota jumped, startled from her thoughts. "I'm sorry. Were you talking to me?"

Chelsea glanced at Trey and then back at her. Her eyes narrowed.

"What?"

"I hope he's worth it," she said in a low voice.

Dakota arched an eyebrow, determined to stay indifferent. "No man is, Chelsea."

"I'm right here," Trey spoke up, his gaze never leaving the paper under his finger. "And in defense of my kind...actually there is no defense of my kind." He gave Dakota a heated glance laced with humor that touched off a shiver of anticipation down her back. 

Then his expression became polite and business like and he turned his attention to Chelsea. "If you change vendors you can save twenty percent on your training videos. I know a small, privately owned company just outside Dayton. They do excellent work. Later on, they can also help you develop some interactive computer games to teach people. There've been a lot of studies about the success of that medium."

Chelsea's eyes lit up with interest and she hurried over to the desk. Her gaze scanned the paper. "In a year's time that could save us thousands. This is great, Trey. Go ahead and contact them for an interview."

Trey and Chelsea launched into an animated discussion about creative ways videos could also be used for advertising and Dakota began to feel decidedly third wheel-ish. She got up and carried her mug back into the kitchen to wash it and when she returned they were still in deep conversation. They gave her a cursory wave good bye as she slipped out the door. 

She didn't mind. It was good to see Trey genuinely interested in the success of a Harts Creek business.

Wrapping her coat around her, Dakota stared at her restaurant across the street and wondered what she was going to do with herself all day. Normally she had her day off jam-packed with activities. Lunch with Chelsea and Lori. Errands. Stocking up meals for herself for the coming week. She hadn't planned a thing, though, and she realized that at some level she'd been hoping to spend the day with Trey. A bad direction to go in if she wanted to keep her growing feelings hidden from him.