Seducing an Heiress (23 page)

"She does."

Her father's confidence wavered, and then reasserted itself. "If that were true she would have used it before now."

"She hesitated out of family loyalty. But then the businessman did something she could never forgive."

Her father glanced at Trey and then back to her. "Show me."

Trey laughed, and the genuine quality of it threw her father off like nothing else they had played up to that point. 

Dakota gave her father a look of reproach just like they'd practiced. "I learned from the best, Dad. Let's just say it's in a safe place."

"Ready to be released to the authorities, but we hope that won't be necessary," Trey added.

A drop of sweat slid down her father's temple. "That's the oldest trick in the book."

"That's because it works." Trey's mouth lifted into one of his cocky half smiles.

Her father pushed his plate away and gazed down the table at them both. "How does this story of yours end?"

Dakota took a deep breath and mentally crossed her fingers. "Our business man decides to cut his losses. The face of his line and her friend go on with their lives and never hear from him again."

"Unless he wants life to get very uncomfortable," Trey put in.

"I don't like to be threatened," her father growled, zeroing in on Trey.

"It's only a fairy tale, Jamison."

The two men sized each other up for a moment. 

"Marcus, return their things and order a limo to the airport. My guests are leaving."

A wave of relief washed through Dakota which she barely kept from showing. Time enough for that later once they were well clear of the spider's web.

Her father's security officer opened the French doors and stepped back. "Miss Jamison." 

"Marcus." As she and Trey passed him she could have sworn she saw a gleam of approval in the tall man's eyes.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

"And when you got in the limo the security guy had put it there on the seat?" Chelsea asked, admiring the jewelry box in her lap.

"The note's still in there if you want to see it." Dakota smiled as Trey reached out and took her hand. He did that a lot, as if needing to reassure himself that she were real. After all they'd been through, she felt the same way about him.

Chelsea lifted the lid and took out the scrap of paper. "Well played, Miss Jamison. Marcus," she read. "Short and to the point," she commented. She looked up. "What about the papers? Are they still in here?"

"One of the first things we did when we got out of Long Island was meet with Trey's attorney. If anything happens, my mother's letter and the evidence she found goes to Aines with instructions to release the information."

"Create a little smoke and let the authorities find the fire,' Trey said, a satisfied gleam in his eye.

"I doubt it will come to that, though. Dad has bigger worries than threatening us. I think Trey hit pretty close to home when he guessed what was really going on."

Chelsea's eyes widened. "So you think he really did need to sell Dakota Nights so he could get the money to cover his latest Ponzi scheme?" 

"My only regret is that we couldn't stop him permanently," Trey said. "He should be in prison where he can't hurt anyone else."

Her friend looked at her and her face softened with concern. "How are you doing with all this, Dakota? I mean, knowing he's...well, that your father is pretty much a criminal?"

The anger and disappointment she'd felt for so much of her life still sat like a dull ache in Dakota's chest, but every day it faded a little more. Instead of wishing for what could never be, she wanted to focus on what was. Trey had given her strong, steady support through that process and she treasured him for it. 

"Biology is about all Dad and I share," she said. "In every way that counts we're as different as two people can be. He's always been a stranger to me. I'm coming to peace with that."

"You're a good woman, Dakota. Better than me, that's for sure." Chelsea set the jewelry box down on the coffee table. "I'm glad you're back safely. I had a list of volunteers all lined up to rescue you. I admit I'm relieved it didn't come to that."

Dakota grinned, picturing Mrs. Tilster and her sister leading the townspeople in an assault on her father's mansion. She would have paid money to see that.

"Well, I better go. I have some new clients to process. Business is picking up thanks to that new advertising you set us up with, Trey. But before I go...." Her eyes sparkled with excitement and she darted over to the sofa. "Let me see it, again."

Dakota held out her left hand, happiness bubbling up inside her.

"Just gorgeous." Chelsea admired her new engagement ring. "Well worth hanging out in New York for a couple of extra days." She gave Trey a quick glance. "I approve."

"That's a relief," he said, his voice touched with dry humor. 

"None of your sass, Peters," she quipped as she headed for the door. "Remember, you were once my secretary." 

The door closed behind her. "We prefer the term Administrative Assistant," Trey said. "When will she learn that?"

"Let it go, honey."

He turned to her and kissed the side of her neck. "Have you decided where you want to spend the honeymoon?" 

Dakota tilted her head to give him better access and sighed with pleasure when he took the hint. "Since the wedding's at Christmas, someplace warm would be nice."

Trey worked his way up along her jaw and closed his mouth over hers. Heat bloomed low in her belly, spreading out in tingling waves into her breasts.

A shame they didn't have time to do anything about this.

Gently disengaging herself from Trey's arms, she touched his cheek tenderly. The bruises were slowly fading and the doctor had told them that his nose was only fractured and should heal without any complications. She was so grateful it hadn't been worse.

"We have other guests arriving any minute," she said in answer to Trey's quizzical look.

The curiosity in his eyes deepened.

"It's sort of an early wedding present." Dakota's face grew hot. Now that the moment was here, doubts suddenly assailed her. What if he hated what she'd done?

"I haven't said anything, because I didn't know if it was going to work out. But they called this morning and they're coming over." 

"Who is?"

The sound of the doorbell chimed through her apartment and Dakota tensed. They were here. Hamlet bounded past the sofa, barking joyfully. 

She gave Trey a quick kiss as she got up. "You may want to be sitting down for this," she said, nervously.

When she opened the door, Miss Suzette's face bloomed into her signature beautiful smile. "I'm so glad you called me."

"What's going on?" Trey said from behind her.

Dakota stepped back. "Miss Suzette has brought someone you might like to meet."

A young woman moved from behind her old neighbor and smiled shyly at Trey. Dakota heard his sharp intake of breath, felt the sudden wave of emotion that swept out from him and her throat tightened with hope.

Rosie was smaller than Trey, a delicate feminine version with the same black hair, the same green eyes. Her pretty face crumpled with tears as she pushed past Miss Suzette and launched herself into her brother's arms. 

He folded her to him, his eyes glistening with tears as he lifted them to Dakota. "How?" he choked out.

Miss Suzette handed Dakota a tissue from her purse. "I was Rosie's adoption worker."

"I...saw her name on the bottom of the report." Dakota sniffed and wiped her eyes.

"At Jamison's?"

She nodded.

Trey grasped Rosie by the shoulders and moved her back to arms' length. His hungry gaze swept over her. "All grown up," he whispered.

She nodded, crying quietly. "I graduated this year. Nursing."

The news seemed to stun him and Dakota imagined that he was trying to reconcile the image of the confident young woman with his memories of a frightened three-year old.

"Did you...was your family good to you?" he asked, quietly, and Dakota could hear the concern in his voice.

A small smile broke through her tears. "Mom and Dad are the best. I have a sister, too."

He released a long breath. "I'm glad."

"They want to meet you."

His brows raised a fraction. "Why?"

"You're my brother. You're family too," she answered, matter-of-factly. "You both are." Her gaze swept back and forth between them. "We're hoping you'll come to dinner this week. If you want to."

Satisfaction moved softly through Dakota's heart. She'd done the right thing calling Miss Suzette. Linking her arm through Trey's, she looked up at him, wanting him to understand that she supported him, whatever he decided. "Trey?"

His dimples flashed and a broad smile lit his face. "We'd be honored." 

A shine of tears glazed his eyes again as he looked down at Dakota. He kissed her on the mouth, and then kissed her, again.

"I love you," he whispered.

Her heart filled with joy as Trey pulled her into a tight hug.  

Dakota felt like the richest woman in the world. A true heiress in everything that mattered most to her. 

She'd come home at last. 

The following excerpt is from
Instructing an Heiress
, Book Two in the Cinderella Heiresses series. 

Instructing an Heiress
follows the adventures of a hard-nosed CEO who must get married or lose everything. To solve her problem, she hires her womanizing best friend to teach her about men, but as the lessons progress so does her alarm, as she finds herself falling in love with him. 

Happy reading!

All the best,

INSTRUCTING AN HEIRESS

Chapter One

Reality was not all it was cracked up to be, CK concluded as she climbed with bleary determination toward wakefulness. For one thing, she'd fallen asleep on her desk, again. For another, her invaluable but pesky assistant, Farley Blake, stood next to her radiating disapproval.

Early morning light slanted in through the large picture window that comprised most of her left-hand wall. Where the sunbeams touched, the wood paneling and rich, warm furniture of her office glowed with disgusting cheer. She screwed up her face and groaned.

"You did it again, didn't you?" Farley stated in her flat, no-nonsense tone. She frowned down at CK, looking chic and perky in a turquoise sheath dress.

CK sat up, rubbing her hand over her face while she attempted to regain consciousness. A bright pink post-it fluttered down and landed on top of the contract she'd used as a pillow. "Everything has to be perfect. Nothing can go wrong with this merger."

The pretty brunette gave an unsophisticated snort, dropped a white bakery bag into the middle of CK's antique mahogany desk and stuck a cup of coffee under her nose. The bitter, sweet scent of the almighty brew caused a few key areas of CK's brain to fire up. 

"Thanks," she said, taking a grateful sip. "Are the Waylands still scheduled for one o'clock today?"

"You can't go on like this, boss." Farley moved around the desk to perch on the corner next to her. "You do nothing but work. You have no friends and no social life."

"I have you." CK focused her attention on extracting the heavenly sausage biscuit from inside the white bag. And joy, of joys, Farley had gotten a cheese Danish, too. "We've been friends for nearly five years, that ought to count for something. And what about Ryan?"

Farley quirked a dark, perfectly shaped brow. "He's certainly yummy if you have a taste for blondes who could pass as Greek gods, which I do, but guy friends don't count. I'm talking romance. Dating.
Boyfriends
. What are you saving yourself for? Old age?"

CK schooled her features into a neutral mask. Some secrets were best kept to one's self even from close friends. Most particularly from close friends.

"I have a company to run," she said, instead. "Those things have to wait until after this merger. With the resources of Wayland and Son at Kazners' disposal, we'll be able to launch that European line I've been designing." 

"Put some designing effort into yourself, for a change. You have a great figure. Don't hide it behind too big, black, shapeless suits."

"This is Italian, I'll have you know. Silk. Very pricey."

"And very unflattering. Let that curly auburn hair of yours down now and then. Maybe try a little lipstick. Men would be eating out of your hand."

"I'll pass, thanks. I like being taken seriously."

"You are so living in the last century, girl." Farley leaned forward and plucked the cheese Danish from the bag.

"Hey!"

Breaking it down the middle, she put the larger half back in. "Workman's comp," she said, taking a bite.

"Comp for what?"

"For helping you with your social life."

"All you're doing is pointing out the obvious. That isn't helping."