The Heiress (9 page)

Daisy studied the king-size bed, with the brown, burgundy and taupe paisley sheets and coverlet. It looked comfortable and seemed to dominate the room. How comfortable it would be if the two of them were in it together, she did not know.

His hand just above her elbow, Jack directed her back to the hall. “The clean linens, towels and washcloths are in here. If you want to go first—” He tilted his head at the shower.

Daisy did.

“I’ll bring in your things.”

D
AISY WASTED NO TIME
getting into the shower, taking advantage of the time alone no doubt. Jack went to his study at the front of the house to the vertical files. He made sure they were locked then sat down to try to figure out what he was going to do with all the information locked inside. He couldn’t take it to the Deveraux-Heyward Shipping offices, his or Tom’s. There was too much of a chance of it being spotted by someone else. He didn’t want to leave it in a storage facility, where anyone could break in and or come across it and wonder just what the hell Jack had been doing the past ten years at Tom Deveraux’s behest. And he didn’t want to destroy the information, either. Some of it meant too much to him.

One thing was for certain, though, he didn’t want Daisy laying eyes on it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

G
INGER
Z
ARING WAS STARING
at the balance in her bank account, wondering how she could magically con
jure up the sum she needed, when her daughter, Alyssa, walked into the kitchen, a stack of mail in her hands. She set the envelopes on the counter then went straight to the refrigerator and pulled out a tube of chocolate chip cookie dough. Ignoring Ginger’s frown—Ginger preferred they eat their cookies
baked
—Alyssa chopped off a liberal chunk and set it on a plate.

“Anything interesting in the mail?” Ginger asked her daughter.

“Yeah.” Alyssa tugged off the butter-stained polo she had to wear for her movie-theater concessions job and, still clad in a black T-shirt and black cotton slacks, collapsed wearily onto one of the breakfast-bar stools. She paused to pop a chunk of dough into her mouth. “I got another reminder from Yale. The rest of my tuition is due in two weeks, and they want my room and board to be paid in full, too.”

Ginger nodded, as if it were no big deal, but inside, her heart was sinking. She had fully expected to have all the money she needed by now, to pay those bills. But she didn’t, and now, as the time approached for her only child to leave for college, the clock was ticking ominously.

Alyssa studied her mother, at eighteen seeing a lot more than Ginger cared to admit. “Maybe it’s not too late for me to go to USC with the rest of my friends,” Alyssa said quietly.

Ginger shook her head, vetoing that. Alyssa had opportunities here that most of her high-school graduating class could only dream about. “Honey, we’ve been through this. I told you if you got accepted to Yale, you’d go.” And Ginger had promised her daughter that, knowing full well that expenses for the year would exceed her thirty-five-thousand-dollar salary. But she’d
been determined to provide for her only child, and provide she would.

“But…” Alyssa’s lower lip trembled; her hazel eyes suddenly filled with tears. “We don’t have the money yet. Do we?”

Ginger refused to make this her daughter’s problem—hadn’t she already hurt Alyssa enough by marrying and divorcing such a loser? She explained patiently, “I told you. I don’t want you worrying about this.”

“How can I not worry,” Alyssa demanded plaintively, “when we’re not poor enough to be eligible for any of the need-based scholarships or financial aid, and not rich enough to qualify for the private loans?”

Exactly the problem, Ginger thought. Fortunately for the two of them, where there was a will there was always a way. “Look, I know this is tricky, but I have arranged to get the funds for you.”

“From that private funding source,” Alyssa ascertained uneasily.

“Right,” Ginger said.

“And you’re sure the money has been guaranteed to us?”

“Absolutely.” Ginger smiled.

Alyssa continued to regard her mother suspiciously. “It’s not a loan shark or anything, is it?”

“No. Of course not,” Ginger said firmly. She might be willing to take a little risk, but not that much! “Just a wealthy friend of a friend with a philanthropic streak.”

“Then what’s taking so long?” Alyssa demanded petulantly.

Exactly what I’d like to know,
Ginger thought, secretly feeling more than a little irked herself. She’d been working darn hard to hold up her end of that par
ticular bargain for months now. But thus far, despite the generous promises made to her, she had actually garnered only nine thousand in cash from Alyssa and Ginger’s secret benefactor. Not that she was about to let him fail to pony up! Twice last week, he’d told Ginger he was going to bring her the balance of the money when they met. Twice, he had forgotten. Ginger wasn’t about to let him do so again.

“Maybe we could ask Daddy to help us,” Alyssa said hesitantly.

Ginger would have given anything if that were possible. But she knew she couldn’t count on Mack Zaring for anything, and the sad truth was she never had been able to. During the ten years they’d been married he had spent every dime they both brought in, and then some, leaving the three of them deeper and deeper in debt with every year that passed. The final straw, however, had come when Mack turned thirty and decided he hated his life. Telling Ginger privately that the mundaneness of their life together was suffocating him, he walked out on Ginger and eight-year-old Alyssa. Quit his job as an electrical engineer, moved to a shack in the Blue Ridge Mountains and began working on and off as a fishing guide. Since then, he’d been chronically late with child support payments, criminally unenthusiastic about their daughter’s many stellar achievements and completely unsupportive of Alyssa’s goals and ambitions for the future. Personally, Ginger didn’t care if she never saw Mack again, but for Alyssa’s sake, she knew she had to keep some connection going. It was important, Ginger knew, that Alyssa think her father loved her every bit as much as Mack should have loved her. “Honey, I’m sure he would help us if he could,” Ginger fibbed gently. “But your daddy doesn’t have that kind of money. You know that.”

Alyssa ducked her head, discouraged, and Ginger understood full well how dejected Alyssa felt. Her own parents’ lack of money and ingenuity had kept her from going to a great private university. No way was the same thing happening to her daughter. Alyssa, Ginger determined resolutely, was going to have the opportunities in life that Ginger had never had. Alyssa was going to get the Ivy League education, and the prestige and hefty salary that went along with a degree. Even if it meant Ginger had to forfeit her pride and keep moonlighting at her second “job” in addition to her work as an airlines reservation agent. Deciding it was best to simply change the subject to something more hopeful, Ginger asked, “Do you still have that list of things you’re going to need for your dorm room—like extra-long twin sheets—for your bed?”

Alyssa nodded. “It’s on my desk.”

“Well, why don’t you go get it?” Ginger suggested cheerfully. “And we’ll go to the outlet mall and get what you need as soon as I finish up here.”

Alyssa’s face broke out into a relieved smile, sure now that everything was going to be all right. “You mean that?” she asked excitedly.

“Absolutely.” Ginger hugged her daughter warmly. “Just give me a few minutes.”

As soon as Alyssa dashed upstairs to her room, Ginger picked up her cell phone. Knowing this was a good time of day to get him, she walked outside onto the patio, where she couldn’t be overheard, and grimly dialed the number she knew by heart. That man had made her a promise. And by God, whether he wanted to or not, he was going to keep it.

D
AISY CAUGHT
J
ACK’S ARM
before they could enter the Deveraux-Heyward Shipping Company executive office building. As Jack looked down at her, he couldn’t help but note how beautiful and fragile she looked in the snug-fitting capri pants and white sleeveless tank top, with a sweater knotted casually around her neck. Her hair fell loose to her bare, freckled shoulders. She abruptly tightened her grip on his bicep and confided in a low, compelling tone, “Before we go in, Jack, we need to make a deal.”

“Okay.” Jack paused in the shadows of the building. The protective way he was feeling right now, she could have whatever she wanted.

She turned to face him and took a bolstering breath. “I don’t want to tell anyone about the pregnancy just yet.”

His wife’s request was surprisingly inconsistent with the rest of her behavior, especially when all along she had been the one demanding the entire truth be brought into the open. Unable to recall ever meeting a woman so full of contradictions, Jack countered just as firmly, “Secrets are trouble, Daisy. You should know that better than anyone.”

“Maybe.” Daisy’s pretty chin took on that familiar stubborn tilt. “But I’m not up to hearing that I
shouldn’t do this because I’m not at a point where my life is settled and orderly.”

“And deadly dull?” Jack joked, seeing where this was going.

“You know what I mean.” Daisy’s lower lip shot out petulantly as she dropped her hold on him and stepped back a pace, wedging a little more distance between them. “I wasn’t married yet when it happened, to someone I loved more than life itself. I didn’t have a prosperous career and a house, two cars and a dog—or, as Charlotte and Richard would have wanted, a suitably blue-blooded husband with a bank account to match.”

Ouch! That certainly got him where he lived. But there was nothing Jack could do about growing up on the wrong side of the docks, or being the offspring of a long line of brawny, uneducated dockworkers.

“Sorry,” Daisy amended quickly, realizing she had both insulted him and hurt his feelings. “But that’s how my adopted parents, Charlotte and Richard, are going to feel about my hooking up with you. I guarantee you, the confrontation with them won’t be pleasant.”

Jack had already figured as much, and braced himself for the familial maelstrom to come. “It likely won’t be pleasant with Tom, either,” Jack added with a warning glance.

Daisy looked down at her toes. “In any case—” Daisy’s voice became not just petulant but overly emotional “—I don’t want anyone ruining this pregnancy for either of us with predictions of doom and gloom about what kind of parents we’re going to make.” She looked up at him earnestly. “It’s too special, too new.”

Jack nodded, in that respect knowing exactly how his wife felt. “For me, too,” he said quietly. Because al
though Daisy’s pregnancy had been unexpected and unplanned, it had also brought joy to Jack’s life, and, as he adjusted to the idea of becoming a father, under these less-than-ideal circumstances, hope for the future unlike anything he had ever experienced. “All right, we won’t tell anyone until we both feel the time is right,” Jack promised.

“Thanks.” Relief shining on her face, Daisy stood on tiptoe and pressed a quick, casual kiss to his cheek. Together, they headed up to the executive suites.

Tom was waiting for them in his office. To Jack’s relief, Tom seemed genuinely happy and relieved to see them both. “I’m glad you’re back, Daisy,” he told her in a cordial tone as he ushered Daisy to one of the two armchairs flanking the sofa in the corner. Tom took a place on the sofa closest to Daisy, leaving Jack to the chair at the far end of the coffee table. “I was really worried about you.”

“Yeah.” Daisy sighed, morphing into the smart-ass she became whenever she felt threatened. And Tom, and his ability to hurt her, threatened her, Jack noted as the hair on the back of his neck prickled, the way it always did before a business meeting totally broke down.

“Nothing like having a wild cannon on the loose,” Daisy continued, giving Tom a vaguely reassuring wink, “but you don’t need to worry. Because I am not going to tell anyone outside the family that you’re my father.”

That was news to Jack. Daisy hadn’t said anything of the kind to him! Furthermore, he was surprised she would agree to that, given all she had gone through these past five years to uncover the truth about her real identity.

Oblivious of the impending danger, Tom shot Jack a grateful look, giving Jack credit where none was due. “I think that’s wise,” Tom said, pleased.

Daisy’s smile broadened as she bounced to her feet and circled the coffee table to where Jack was seated. She eased behind Jack and put her hands on his shoulders. “I am however going to tell everyone under the sun that I’m now married to Jack here.”

Tom stared at them in stunned amazement. He looked at Jack and demanded grimly, “Is this a joke?”

Jack swore virulently to himself and wished once again he hadn’t gotten himself into such a mess. Wondering if Tom was going to haul off and punch him out again, and how Daisy would react if Tom did, Jack said calmly, “It’s not a joke.”

“Why?” Tom narrowed his eyes. “Is she—”

Daisy came out from behind Jack’s chair and did a princesslike pirouette and curtsy for both men. “You’ll be relieved to know I am as wild and reckless as ever, but otherwise, as you can see, quite fine.”

A muscle working in his cheek, Jack’s mentor glared at him. “Damn it, Jack! I told you to find her, not—”

“Make an honest woman of me?” Daisy interjected when Tom had sense enough to censor himself.

Daisy shrugged and continued to pace as dramatically as if she were onstage in a Broadway play. “I know what you mean.” She flattened a hand across her breasts and uttered a divalike sigh. “I tried to convince Jack it wasn’t necessary to put a ring on my finger, that I had no reputation to speak of, save that of being very wild, reckless and unpredictable. And that just because he’s slept with me didn’t mean he had to marry me for heaven’s sake! But in some ways—” Daisy paused to pat Jack’s cheek and give him an exaggeratedly affec
tionate look, before continuing her soliloquy “—Jack here is very old-fashioned. And he assured me this was for the best, so I said okay, I’d give the holy state of matrimony a shot. I mean, what else am I going to do besides take pictures of stuff? Which is, by the way, contrary to popular opinion, something I never plan to give up. What else would I do, anyway? Go back and enroll in an eighth college to try and get an undergraduate degree in something I’ll never use anyway?”

Jack was relieved to note the more Daisy acted out, the more Tom, an experienced father, calmed down. Tom shot Jack a thoughtful look. “It’s not like you, Jack, to be so impulsive,” he said.

Looking frustrated that her attempt to drive Tom to losing his temper completely wasn’t working, Daisy dropped into Jack’s lap. “Guess I inspire him,” she said in a low, vampy voice. “Or maybe—” Daisy ran a caressing hand across Jack’s chest in an attempt to further aggravate her biological father “—my little hubby is just a wild and crazy kind of guy and never knew it until now.”

Tom sighed, clearly perplexed. Meanwhile, in an attempt to limit the damage before this situation completely disintegrated, Jack discreetly tried to lift Daisy off his lap, and found, to his increasing consternation, she would not budge. And instead settled her bottom even more cozily into his lap, which in turn created another problem. The kind that necessitated she stay on his lap rather than get up and reveal the tightness at the front of Jack’s slacks.

Tom looked at Jack, blissfully unaware of Jack’s helpless arousal. “You’re sure,” Tom said heavily, “there isn’t anything else that I should know about this?”

Promising himself that Daisy was going to pay for her antics later, Jack kept his promise to Daisy and said nothing about her pregnancy. Although, he had to admit to himself pragmatically, it probably would have made him look better in his boss’s eyes if he had confessed the pregnancy. At least then, Daisy and Jack’s impetuous actions would have made some sense.

“Well,” Tom continued reluctantly, looking from one to another and back to Jack again, “if you’re not going to have the marriage annulled—”

Jack said firmly, sure of this much, “We’re not.”

Tom looked at both of them. Speaking more to Daisy than to Jack, Tom continued in a lecturing, paternal tone, “Then I expect you to make a concerted effort to stay married.”

Well, that was something the Deveraux and Templeton families agreed upon, Jack noted. That marriage should be for life.

Daisy, however, clearly could not have agreed less as she rolled her eyes and vaulted off Jack’s lap once again. “Spoken like a true father.” Daisy glared at Tom and began to pace the CEO’s office once again. “The only thing is, you have, by your own volition, never been a father to me, Mr. Deveraux.”

Despite Daisy’s angry reaction, Tom kept his cool. “Which brings me to the next very important point,” he said, standing and crossing to where his biological daughter stood. “I want to remedy that, Daisy. Which is why I called Gabe a few minutes ago and asked him to arrange for you to have a DNA test at Charleston General Hospital this afternoon. I had one weeks ago, and my results are already back. All you have to do is go to the lab at the hospital—they’re expecting you. They’ll draw some blood, and we should know defi
nitely if you are my child in a matter of weeks.” Tom paused, reading the wariness and uncertainty on Daisy’s face as easily as Jack did. “This is just a formality, Daisy,” Tom explained gently, looking at that point very much like a father to Daisy, “but a very necessary one. After all the lies, well…” Tom paused and compressed his lips together. “You understand why I want us both to be sure you are indeed my child.”

Jack was fairly certain he saw tears glimmering in Daisy’s eyes before she determinedly blinked them away. “And then what?” Daisy asked contentiously, moving away from Tom yet again.

“For starters,” Tom said, resisting what Jack could see was the natural urge to take Daisy in his arms and comfort her as a father would. Instead, he leaned against the front of the desk. “I think we should get to know each other,” Tom continued optimistically. “And you should become a member of our family.”

Jack wondered if Daisy knew how lucky she was to be getting the offer of entry into the Deveraux world. Because, despite the problems Tom and Grace had suffered over the years, due to his infidelity and their eventual divorce, the Deveraux were a warm and loving and genuinely caring family. One of the most grounded and truly compassionate and mutually supportive that Jack knew. He would have given anything to have an offer like that. And it had nothing to do with the money and privilege they enjoyed. But rather the love and acceptance they offered each other, the knowledge that if you were a Deveraux you were never alone.

Daisy raked her teeth across her lower lip as she continued to study the man who, under different circumstances, would have been the father who’d loved and reared her. “You really want that?”

Tom’s eyes shone with a mixture of regret and hope. “Yes—at least privately, I think that’s the right thing for us to do. Don’t you?”

“Right now I’m really not sure what I want,” Daisy said quietly, looking—to Jack’s mind, anyway—dangerously subdued. “But I will have that DNA test. Just to put your mind at ease.”

“And maybe later this evening the three of us could have dinner,” Tom said pleasantly.

Abruptly, Daisy’s expression became closed and unreadable once again. “I don’t think so,” she said, her voice more chilly than polite. “I have to get my stuff out of my brother Connor’s place.” She threw Tom a look meant to provoke. “Now that I’m married to your company counsel, I’m going to be moving in with him.”

“Y
OU WERE KIND OF ROUGH
on him, weren’t you?” Jack said as soon as the elevator doors closed and the two of them were alone.

Daisy swallowed and tried not to think how handsome and relaxed Jack looked in his cream-colored knit shirt and tan slacks. Or that he was not just the father of the baby she was going to have, but her husband. Suddenly, everything was moving way too fast for her and she leaned against the opposite wall as the elevator continued its short ride to the lobby.

For years, she’d dreamed about finding her real parents.

But the prospect of being a Deveraux…. And yet not really being a Deveraux—at least not to the public at large—was depressing.

She had known going into this that she might experience a less-than-warm welcome from the two parents
who had given her over to others to raise, but it still hurt, feeling as if she was once again being rejected and abandoned, albeit all so carefully and nicely this time.

“Would it have hurt you to have dinner with Tom tonight?” Jack continued, playing the role of Tom Deveraux’s trusted legal counsel and all-around henchman yet again.

Daisy wasn’t going to let herself feel guilty about that, even if Jack was looking at her as if she should. Her biological father had pushed her away yet again, after first beckoning her near. Now it was her turn to do the same to Tom. “What I said was the truth,” Daisy said stoically as the elevator stopped at the ground floor and the doors slid open. She preceded Jack through the exit. “I do need to get my stuff out of Connor’s. And if we hurry—” Daisy checked her watch “—we can do it before he gets home for the evening.”

Jack hurried to get there first and hold the door for her. “What about telling your family?” he asked as she breezed past.

Daisy dug for her sunglasses in the bottom of her purse, and slid them over her eyes. “That can wait.”

His sandy hair gleaming gold in the afternoon sunlight, Jack followed Daisy across the parking lot to her spiffed-up sedan. “You’re sure?”

Daisy waited while Jack unlocked the passenger side. “Of that? Very.”

As Jack opened the door, a blast of heat came out at them. They stood back, waiting for the temperature inside the car to subside a little before getting in.

Deciding the car was cool enough to get into, Daisy tossed her purse onto the middle of the front seat and climbed in. “Do you think he’s going to forgive you?”