Seducing the Heiress (8 page)

Chapter 10

“L
ooks like we'll soon be headed to New Orleans,” Robert said as they entered their hotel suite. “First things first. I'll get Dan's team to try and find out everything they can about this Butch Johnson. They can track him down and sit on him until we decide how we want to approach him.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Farrah said, removing her earrings. “And I'm not telling you how to do your job, but you should think twice about sending Dell or Cam. They're both young and still pretty green.”

Robert raised an eyebrow.

“We are talking about New Orleans,” she replied to his obvious confusion. “New Orleans can be a little wilder than Vegas.”

“They've been with us for over a year. They know how to handle themselves,” Robert assured.

“If you say so. We sure didn't.” Farrah dropped her clutch on the end table, kicked off her shoes and released her hair from its binding. She closed her eyes and combed her fingers through her long locks.

Robert felt a charge whip through his body as he stood in the center of the living room staring at Farrah. His blood raced south and he had to fist his hands at his sides in order to stop himself from taking her into his arms and kissing her senseless—again. “We have to find out what's on that drive before we do anything else,” he said in a tone he hardly recognized himself.

“We need to get back and bring everyone up to speed on things. Not to mention I'm dying to find out what's on that flash drive, too. So, are you going to call the pilot about flying us out tonight?” Farrah inquired as she watched Robert flip the drive over in his hand.

“It's nearly midnight, let the man sleep. We'll leave tomorrow as planned.” Needing to put a little more distance between them, he walked over to the desk and lifted a room service menu from the tray placed in the center of the desk. “I'm going to order something to eat, you want anything?”

“Sure, anything's fine,” she said, heading to her bedroom. “I'm going to go get out of this dress and put on something a little more casual.”

Robert felt another charge go through his body. He knew whatever Farrah considered casual would make him very uncomfortable, since her choice of that type of clothing usually consisted of something loose and without a bra. Robert gave Farrah a tight smile and perused the in-room menu; he needed a distraction and also wanted to hide how his body was responding to her. Robert turned at the sound of Farrah's door closing.
You have got to keep it together, man,
Robert admonished himself as he left the menu on the desk and pulled a beer from the mini-refrigerator. The moment he put the bottle to his lips, his phone vibrated. Robert checked the number and smiled. “Hello, beautiful.”

“How's my blue-eyed wonder doing?” Momma Penny asked.

“I'm fine. How are you? You're taking your medicine like you're supposed to, right?”

“Yes, sir,” she drawled. “You can stop checking up on me. I'm the mother, remember?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Robert replied, whipping out the flash drive and placing it inside the briefcase he'd put on the living room table.

“I'm calling to see if I can expect you for lunch tomorrow.”

“I'll be there...in fact, can I bring a friend?” Robert asked, bracing for the response.

Even after mentally preparing, Robert still flinched at the sound of Momma Penny's scream.

“Yes, I'm making a pot roast. I know that's a bit heavy for lunch but it's your favorite. I'll just pair it with a nice garden salad and it'll be fine. Please tell me she doesn't have anything against meat. It is a she...right?” Momma Penny inquired and the perplexity in her tone caused him to break out in laughter.

“Yes, Momma Penny...it's a woman. Definitely a woman. And I'm sure whatever you make will be fine,” he said, still unable to believe she would even ask such a question.

Momma Penny's sigh of relief was paramount. “All right, Pat and the girls are here. Time for our swim aerobics class.”

“Swim aerobics? You sure—”

“Thanks to that heated and covered pool you put in, I can swim year-round,” she said, her voice full of excitement. “I'll see you two tomorrow. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Robert said, ending the call before reaching for the hotel phone to place an order.

* * *

Farrah walked into her bedroom, slipped off her clothes and dashed to the shower. The lukewarm water that pelted her skin helped to release the tension. Robert was only doing as she'd asked, but the idea that he'd already moved on—according to part of the call she overheard when she came back to retrieve her purse—bothered her more than it should.

She dried herself off, dressed in black leggings and a red oversize shirt that hung off one shoulder. She perched on her bed and wrapped a towel around her damp hair to absorb the moisture, when her iPad signaled an incoming video call.

Farrah hit the connect button and within seconds she was greeted with an image of a fuller, green-eyed version of herself. “Hi, sis, how you feeling?”

“Like a beached whale,” Francine grumbled, rubbing her extended belly. “These two refuse to let me get more than a couple of hours' sleep at a time.”

“Where's Meeks? Can't he help you with that?” she asked, laughing.

Francine rolled her eyes. “Usually, but I sent him out for dinner.”

“Dinner? It's almost eight there, and you usually have your first meal by six. Why are you eating so late, or is this your second helping? You haven't been overdoing it at work, have you?” she asked, glaring at her sister through the screen.

Francine adjusted herself in her chair. “I thought Felicia was the only doctor in the family. Anyway, have you forgotten who my husband is? I'm pregnant with twins, so I'm always hungry. I sent him for tacos,” she explained.

Farrah shook her head. “You and those taco cravings.”

“It's just another part of our heritage coming through,” she proudly proclaimed.

“I guess.”

“Never mind my eating habits.” Farrah reached for a small pillow and put it behind her back. “So what did you guys find out?”

Farrah spent the next fifteen minutes catching Francine up on everything she'd learned about Alexia, including the flash drive she'd gotten from Blige, and about Blige herself. “So you're telling me Alexia actually cared about someone other than herself?”

“Apparently. You know...we could use Blige to make Alexia talk. We finally found her Achilles' heel.”

Francine grimaced. “You want to use an innocent nineteen-year-old girl?”

“No, I want to use Alexia's
feelings
for that nineteen-year-old innocent girl,” she clarified, unwrapping the towel to pull her hair up into a high ponytail. Then she zeroed in on something amazing. “Did...did your stomach just move?”

“Yes, it does that,” she said, rubbing her abdomen with the palms of her hands. “So—”

“Why?” Farrah asked.

“There are two babies in here trying to get comfortable,” she explained. “Just like I am.”

“Is that weird...? Does it hurt?”

Francine laughed. “It's uncomfortable at times, but it's wonderful, too.”

“If you say so,” Farrah mumbled, clearly not sure she would agree with her sister.

“So what's next?”

“We'll be home sometime tomorrow afternoon,” Farrah replied, reaching for her lotion and hairbrush. “Robert wants to use his system to open the drive. He thinks there will be encryption software that he'll have to break.”

“All right, I hear Meeks coming,” Francine said, giving her belly a few gentle pats. “Time to feed these babies, not to mention their mother.”

“Enjoy.” Farrah leaned closer to the screen, crooning, “Bye, babies, Auntie loves you so much. Seriously, sis, you two really need to give those kids some names.”

“We're working on it,” Francine quipped before blowing a kiss and signing off.

Before Farrah could close the iPad, another signal came through, requesting an open line for a video conference.
What now, Francine?
A wide smile crawled across Farrah's face when a clean-faced, sloppy-ponytail-wearing, hazel-eyed version of herself popped on the screen. “Well, hey, sis, isn't this a nice surprise. Is everything okay? I thought we weren't going to talk about the baby shower again until next week.”

Felicia, the youngest of the Blake triplets, smiled. “Everything's fine and I didn't call about Francine's baby shower. But now that you've mentioned it, how are you coming with your search for a location?”

“Well, I've been busy working with Trey on the appeal...” Farrah stopped speaking when she saw her sister knit her brow. “What?”

“You haven't done a thing since we talked about this last week, have you?” she asked, leveling an accusatory glare at her sister.

“Look, sis,” Farrah said, raising her hands in surrender. “We've been knee-deep in it around here. Besides, we have plenty of time.”

“Not.” Felicia raised her index finger and turned to address a small Asian woman who handed her a clipboard to review. She quickly scanned the documents, then she fluently exchanged a few words in Korean before signing the papers and turning back to her sister. “Where was I?”

“I hate that you know a language that I don't,” Farrah said, poking out her lip like an angry child would when they couldn't get their way.

“Because Spanish and French aren't enough for you. You're just nosey,” Felicia shot back.

Both sisters laughed.

“Back to the subject at hand. We don't have enough time if you want to stick to that winter wonderland theme and have it in December,” Felicia said. “You know how fast things get booked up, and I don't care how much power or money we have, we're not bumping another party because you didn't make a call or refuse to delegate.”

“First of all, that only happened once and that couple was more than happy to move their wedding date.”

“Only after you offered to pay for their wedding,” she reminded Farrah.

Farrah shrugged. “So it was worth it. The Houston Club is where John proposed to Paul. The wedding
had
to be there.”

“Anyway...”

Farrah sighed. “All right, I'll ask Paul to look into some locations and if we have to move it to January, so be it. Happy now?”

“Yes. And I'm going to follow up with Paul and make sure you're on top of things, too.” Felicia picked up her bowl and took a bite of something unfamiliar.

“What are you eating?”

“Fish and rice.”

“For breakfast?” Farrah scowled.

“I'm on the other side of the world, remember? It's late
afternoon.
This is my lunch,” she explained. “And it's soooo good.”

“So if you didn't call about the shower, what's so important that it pulled you away from finding a cure for erectile dysfunction for members of the CIA?”

Felicia covered her mouth to keep from spraying her food as she laughed. “Erectile dysfunction, really? We've talked about this already, and while I
still
can't tell you what I'm working on, I assure you that I'm not having anything to do with the male anatomy. Directly or indirectly.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot, you're holding out for Mr. Right.”

“Why must you always go there? No, I'm doing my job,” Felicia shot back, taking another bite of her food. “Now can we please get to the real reason why I called?”

“What's up?” Farrah asked as she began to spread lotion down her arms.

“You know how I'm having Paul handle my mail?”

“And...”

“Well, I received something that came to me through the Chicago office.” Felicia held up a white envelope.

“It was sent to you through the CIA mail? What is it?” she asked.

“A letter from a law office out of Atlanta, an S. Peters. Have you ever heard of him or the firm McCormick and Associates?”

“It doesn't ring any bells.”

“Do you remember my college roommate Valarie Washington?” Felicia asked. “Well, it's Valarie Washington-Sawyer now, actually.”

Farrah thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. “She had cancer, right?”

“Yes. Well, she died recently and named me as sole heir to her estate.”

“What!”

“I know,” Felicia said, sighing, and her brow puckered. “The letter states that I have to appear in person to stake my claim and hear the terms of the will. The sooner, the better.”

“That's going to be a little hard, considering you're on the other side of the world.”

“Tell me about it. But we'll be wrapping things up here in a couple of weeks, so I can stop in Atlanta on my way home. So can you check them out for me?”

“Me? Really?” Farrah teased. “You mean, you don't want to get one of your CIA buddies to handle it for you?”

“Now why would I want to do that when my sister is a brilliant lawyer—who graduated at the top of her class and kicks butt on a regular basis—and handles things like this every day?”

Farrah looked amused. “Pouring it on a little thick, aren't we?”

“I'm sure it'll end up being something you'll be handling for me sooner or later anyway.”

“True,” Farrah said, grinning and fanning herself. “No problem. I'll see what I can find out, so just scan me the letter.”

“Thanks, sis.”

“Anytime.”

“I better go. I know it's late there, so we'll talk soon. Sleep well.” Felicia sent her sister an air kiss and ended the call.

“With Robert nearby, that's not likely,” she said to the blank screen.

Chapter 11

F
arrah returned to the living room to find a table set with several silver dome-covered dishes. The wonderful aromas assaulted her senses. Unable to help herself, she lifted the first set of covers. Her breath caught at the sight of each dish: shrimp cocktail, steak sliders, hot wings, French fries and chocolate cake—all of her favorite foods. “He remembered,” she murmured, fighting the emotions that sprang forward.

“Of course I did,” Robert said, his low vocal register and fresh scent snatching her attention. “I remember every single detail about our time together.”

Farrah turned and the sight of Robert stole her breath. He had changed into a pair of low-riding jeans and a white V-neck T-shirt with several silky hairs from his chest peeking out. He was barefoot and leaning against the doorjamb with his hands in his pockets—his face nearly expressionless.

Farrah gave her head a small shake before she spoke. “Thank you...everything looks wonderful,” she said, turning back to the feast.

“Wait,” Robert ordered, walking up behind her, putting only a few inches between them. “I never told you what a great job you did today. And you looked beautiful doing it, too.”

Robert's large frame and intoxicating scent wrapped around Farrah like a comfortable blanket. Farrah leaned into him at first, and his hands stroked her arms, causing a shock of desire to whip through her body. Suddenly she gripped the table, bringing herself under control. “Thanks,” she whispered.

Farrah felt the immediate sense of loss when he took several steps back. “Want a beer?” Robert asked.

“Sure.”

Robert smiled, handed her a beer and took a seat at the table. “Let's eat,” he said.

Farrah took the seat across from Robert and studied her selections. “So when we—”

“No,” Robert said, waving his hand in front of his face. “No more business. Not tonight.”

“Well, we're certainly not talking about our ill-fated relationship.” Farrah placed two steak sliders on her plate. “So what should we talk about?”

Robert added two sliders to the wings he'd already plated. “How about we discuss your latest moves in our Fantasy League?”

“What about them?” Farrah asked with a slider halfway to her mouth.

“You benched a world-class defensive end so a mediocre running back could play.”

“Says you... That mediocre running back is starting this week. I have a good feeling about him.” Farrah took a bite of her sandwich.

“Well, enjoy that feeling. That's about the only real pleasure you'll be getting from that experience.” Robert held Farrah's gaze as he, too, took a bite of his sandwich.

In spite of their differing opinion on the recent NFL trades and the fact that Farrah was kicking Robert's butt in their Fantasy Football League, they had a relaxing evening just like a real couple.

When that realization hit, Farrah admonished herself for such thoughts.
Get it together, girl. This distant, business-only, platonic relationship is what you wanted. Deal with it.

* * *

Robert spent the night fighting his desire for Farrah. He'd nearly lost all control when Farrah had leaned back into him, especially with her soft shoulders and erect nipples calling to him. Robert found the will to step away after he noticed how white Farrah's knuckles had become as she gripped the table. Seeing how his nearness affected her, too, reinforced his resolve. He had to lose a few battles if he wanted to win the war. The constant arousal he felt when she was near was getting to him, but Farrah was worth the discomfort.

It was a little before noon when they landed at Houston's Hobby Airport. They made their way through the VIP terminal for private jet owners to his waiting car.

“Thanks, Jimmy,” Robert said to the stocky valet who started loading their bags into the trunk of a black Mercedes.

“Where's the Porsche?” Farrah asked, rifling her bag for her Chanel sunglasses.

“I had Jeremy bring the sedan and take the Porsche back to my place. I knew we'd need the room.”

“Oh,” Farrah said, giving him the side-eye.

“For the luggage,” he clarified.

Farrah grimaced as she slipped on the sunglasses.

“My mother's expecting us for lunch. I hope you don't mind.”

“Your mother?” she asked, returning her eyeglass case to her bag. “And what do you mean
us
?”

“The woman who raised me,” he clarified.

“You mean your foster mother.”

“I don't call her that. We're closer than that. She called last night while you were in the shower to remind me of our standing date,” he explained as he held the door open for her.

Farrah stared up at him and frowned. “Your mother called...about lunch...when I left to take a shower?”

Robert could see that something he'd said confused her but he couldn't figure out what it could be. “Yes.”

“To remind you of your lunch date,” she repeated.

“Yes,” he replied. “So, will you join me?”

Farrah bit down on her bottom lip as she looked down at her outfit—black jeans, a simple red V-neck shirt and matching black jean jacket. Robert could see indecision flash in her eyes and quickly added, “You look great, and it's just lunch. No big deal. Momma Penny has wanted to meet the Blake sisters for a while now.”

Farrah released her lip and shrugged. “Sure, why not. Like you said, it's just lunch,” she conceded, sliding into the passenger seat.

Robert closed the door and made his way to the driver's side, trying not to smile. He slipped behind the wheel, pulled out of the drive and into slow-moving traffic.

“So where does your foster mother live?”

“About twenty miles outside of downtown,” he replied, referencing the area as he turned off the highway, heading toward the freeway. He moved to the far lane where he tested the boundaries of the city's speed limit.

“You don't talk about her or your childhood...ever. The only way I knew you even had family was because Meeks told Francine. Why don't you ever talk about her?”

“No reason. I just don't share my private life with many people. Momma Penny is a big part of my life. She's all the family I have and she's pretty special to me.”

“That's great. So, no one's ever met her before... I mean other than Meeks and your college buddies, right? I remember hearing a few of those stories,” she asked, her eyebrows raised slightly.

Without taking his eyes off the road, he said, “What are you asking me, Farrah?”

“Fine.” Farrah turned her body toward Robert and crossed her arms under her breasts. “How many of
your
women has she met?”

Robert gripped the steering wheel, but remained silent as he checked his rearview mirror before exiting the freeway. He pulled into a popular grocery store parking lot, parked and cut the engine. Robert took a deep breath and pushed it out slowly before he turned and met her gaze. Farrah continued to glare at him—clearly waiting for an answer. If he wanted her to understand him better and trust that it was possible for him to love and commit himself to someone—to her—he had to open up and share more of himself.

“Penny Hilton, or Momma Penny, as I'd come to call her, was my nanny from the day I was born. In fact, there are photos of her carrying me out of the hospital instead of my parents,” he explained.

Farrah remained silent, her face devoid of expression.

“My parents were very busy people,” he started to explain. “My father was a corporate attorney and my mother was a socialite. I was their only child and they loved me...in their own way. They just didn't have time for me.”

Farrah's shoulders dropped; she clasped her hands in her lap but remained silent.

“They died in a boating accident when I was ten.”

“I'm sorry. I had no idea you were so young when you lost your parents. That must have been devastating,” she said, reaching over and squeezing his forearm.

“It was hard, but not for the reason you think.”

Farrah's forehead furrowed and she dropped her hand. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I loved my parents, but I didn't know them. I hardly saw them.” Robert's brows puckered as several painful memories flashed through his mind. “I had nannies seven days a week and if not for Momma Penny, I would've been shipped off to boarding school on my fifth birthday.”

Farrah's frown deepened. “Fifth...seriously?”

“Both my parents were only children from wealthy families and that's the way they were raised,” he said nonchalantly. “My grandparents shipped them off when they were about that age.”

“So how did she stop them?”

“Momma Penny basically agreed to raise me full-time. She took me home on the weekends and agreed to handle anything school-related—from parent-teacher conferences to all social and athletic activities.”

“Unbelievable...”

“Momma Penny didn't mind.” The corner of Robert's mouth rose slightly. “By the time I was five, she was widowed in her midthirties, and she'd never had any children of her own. So she thought of me as her second chance. In reality, she was my only chance. My only chance at a real life, anyway, a happy childhood. And she gave me every bit of that.”

Farrah swiped away a single tear.

“So after my parents died, she kept me.”

“You didn't have any other family that wanted you?”

The slight smile disappeared. “There were a couple of great-aunts and uncles that came forward but after they found out they wouldn't have access to the money my parents left me—other than the small monthly allowance set aside to help with my expenses—they all walked away, and I became a ward of the state.”

“Until Momma Penny stepped in, that is,” she confirmed.

“Yep, and she never cared about the money. Not even the monthly allowance she was entitled to, but she had no choice. Momma Penny refused to leave me at the mercy of the state and she didn't want to have to work so much that she couldn't raise me right. She made sure we had a good life but more important, that we were always together.” Robert smiled at the memory.

“Wow, she really loves you.”

“She does. And I love her, too...very much. So to answer your question, no, I haven't brought any women to meet Momma Penny. No one's been special enough to me. Until now...until you.” Robert leaned over and ran the back of his hand down the side of her face as he stared at her lush mouth.

“Oh...” she gasped, and Robert dropped his hand, faced forward and quickly started the car. He had to get moving before he pulled Farrah onto his lap, kissed her breathless and confessed everything. “Ready?” he asked.

“Yes, I think I'm getting there,” Farrah whispered.

For some reason Robert didn't think she was just talking about a visit to his mother.