The Heir

by Joanne Rock

  He’d been hungry to meet her from their first conversation, eager to see if that would ease the craving he had for more of her. Maybe that had been part of the reason he’d video-called this morning. Perhaps he hoped the fascination with her might ease once he saw her, but if anything, he was even more preoccupied with thoughts of her.

  Now, the shadows around the cabin door shifted and she stood just thirty yards from him, poised at the top of the stairs. Dressed in a fawn-colored coat with knee-high black leather boots, she reached one gloved hand to steady herself on the handrail while she used the other to restrain the mass of red curls from the tug of the cold winds.

  If any part of him had hoped the magnetic effect she had on him would dissipate once he saw her in person, the hope evaporated now. In the eight years he’d spent building his business, it hadn’t been difficult for Desmond to keep relationships simple and straightforward. He’d invested everything he had in building the casino business from nothing. He’d devoted little time to women, and then only in the most cursory way. But right now, even with the wind chill hovering at freezing, he felt sparks just looking at Nicole Cruz.

  As if called by his thoughts, she glanced toward the hangar suddenly, her gaze finding him. It was damned fanciful of him to think she might feel the same pull between them, so he straightened and headed toward the tarmac to meet her.

  He was halfway to the metal stairs when it occurred to him there was no one else with Nicole. The pilot was already on the pavement, exchanging a few words with the guy from the ground crew while the two of them looked over the aircraft. Nicole’s bag was on the small carpet at the base of the fold-down steps.

  Bag. Singular.

  Suspicion stirred as his gaze darted back to hers, but he held himself in check while he greeted her.

  “Welcome, Nicole.” He extended a hand when he halted a few feet from her. “Thank you for making the trip.”

  His fingers closed around the leather of her gloved palm, and he had a brief impression of her warmth. She was tall for a woman, her brown eyes nearly level with his in her heeled boots.

  “Thank you for having me. I’m as eager as you are to find answers about my nephew,” she assured him before she pulled back, her tone cool as they sized one another up under the harsh glare of the outdoor lights. Her face appeared free of cosmetics, yet her full lips were a rich berry color that drew his attention as she spoke.

  For a moment, his attention snagged on her word choice. But of course, he wouldn’t be having her. She was here in the interests of her ward, and Desmond was here to protect the men who were like brothers to him. It wouldn’t be possible to explore an attraction to her, even if it was distracting as hell.

  A red curl escaped her grasp and wavered along her cheek. Behind her, the worker from the ground crew closed the cabin door while another woman jogged toward the runway and pulled on a headset, lights under one arm to direct air traffic.

  “Speaking of your nephew.” Desmond glanced from Nicole to the jet and then back again, wondering what kind of game she was playing. “Where is Matthew?”

  They all wanted to meet the boy, whom their former mentor, Alonzo Salazar, had secretly supported. Once they met Matthew, maybe they would recognize the connection. See something familiar in the boy’s features or manner that they couldn’t pick up through a mere photo.

  Her pointed chin jutted at the question.

  “Back in boarding school.” She reached for the handle of her rolling canvas bag as if that handful of words could end the discussion—the same one they’d had over the phone when he’d first arranged for her to bring the boy to Montana.

  Annoyance flared. Desmond took the suitcase for her, his hand brushing hers as the sound of an approaching aircraft hummed on the breeze.

  “We had an agreement,” he reminded her tightly, unaccustomed to his directives not being followed. At his casino, he ran a smooth, efficient business because his plans were executed to the letter. Even at Mesa Falls, where he shared control with his partners, there was still discussion, compromise and agreement.

  Not open defiance.

  Her full lips compressed into a flat line before she spoke. “As I recall, we had a disagreement since I wasn’t keen on being followed by your private detective. I told you Matthew didn’t do well with change, and that he needed to return to a known environment where he thrives. You insisted I bring him against my better judgment.”

  The wind kicked up around them. The pilot for Desmond’s jet returned to the cockpit as if to park the aircraft for the night.

  “Those were the terms,” Desmond reminded Nicole.

  “Your terms, not mine.” Her brown eyes flashed with a fire that didn’t come through her cool words, revealing a passion that might have intrigued him if she hadn’t just upended all his plans. “Now, I’m here and I’m going to find answers with you or without you. So what will it be, Desmond? Do you want me to return to Mesa Falls with you or not?”

  * * *

  A few minutes later, Nicole sat in the passenger seat of Desmond Pierce’s shiny black luxury SUV, her suitcase stowed in the back as he drove west toward the Bitterroot mountain range and Mesa Falls Ranch.

  It was clear from the long silence following his terse request that she accompany him, Desmond was not pleased with her refusal to dance to his tune.

  Too. Bad.

  She focused on the scenery outside the window as they drove closer to the jagged peaks, the open fields dotted with the occasional barn or equipment shed. She was done caring what the privileged men of Mesa Falls thought about her, so Desmond could brood all he wished. Her sole concern was finding her nephew’s father and holding him financially accountable for contributing to his son’s upbringing. Even though his education was taken care of by Salazar’s book profits, it was an arrangement she wasn’t completely comfortable with. Mattie had a unique set of skills and needs that were well met at the private school where he’d boarded the last few years before Nicole’s sister, Lana, had died suddenly. The hurt of Lana’s passing still caught Nicole off guard sometimes, stopping her short in the middle of the day, the pain of it so sharp she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

  But remembering Mattie helped. Especially when she knew that her sister’s son would naturally grieve even more for Lana than she did. The fact that Lana had died without revealing anything of Mattie’s father—other than a vague reference to the child being taken care of thanks to Alonzo Salazar’s tell-all book—complicated Nicole’s life exponentially. She hadn’t minded taking time away from her freelance graphic design job to search for answers, but the weeks had stretched to months and her savings dwindled. She didn’t have the luxury of turning down Desmond Pierce’s offer of making the travel arrangements for her return to Montana.

  But she couldn’t ignore her nephew’s needs in favor of the man currently in the driver’s seat. Turning her attention back to him, Nicole let her gaze wander over Desmond while he drove. Even angry with her, he remained ridiculously attractive. Thoughts of their morning phone call—waking up to his face while she was still in bed—had never been far from her mind today.

  And Desmond wasn’t just pleasing to the eye with his stormy gray eyes, dark hair and shadowed jaw that called a woman’s fingers to test the texture of the bristles there. There was more to it than a strong build and fine physique evident even under the winter layers of his black wool jacket with a taupe-colored fisherman’s sweater underneath. It was something intangible about the way he looked at her, the way he spoke, the way he moved that just flipped a switch inside her.

  A strange phenomenon she’d never experienced before. In the past, the few men who’d been in her life had been there for practicality’s sake—someone fixed her up with a friend because it was easier to group date. But the sexy, charged encounters that other women seemed to have just didn’t happen for her.

  Although one look at D
esmond—one moment to feel the draw between them—gave her some clue about what she’d been missing. It seemed wholly unfair that the universe put this compelling man in her path right now when she needed to focus on finding her nephew’s father. Barely containing her frustrated sigh, Nicole couldn’t stand another moment of the heavy silence in the luxury SUV. The wealth of supple leather and sleek engineering in the vehicle did little to put her at ease, the bespoke interior reminding her how much power and influence this man wielded.

  “I’m not sure we’re going to find the answers we seek about Matthew’s dad if we aren’t speaking,” she observed, unbuttoning her long coat now that she was out of the damp cold.

  Or maybe she just needed to cool down the heat of her thoughts.

  Desmond’s fingers flexed on the steering wheel as the sun dipped out of sight behind the snowcapped mountains, leaving the sky painted with streaks of purple tinged with gold.

  “We’ll come up with a new plan.” His glance slid sideways. “We have no choice.”

  The undertone of blame nettled.

  “I hope you’re not expecting me to feel guilty about doing what’s best for Matthew.” She’d expected better from Desmond based on the two phone calls she’d had with him. He’d eased her concerns about returning to Montana, and—she’d thought—done what he could to make the trip easier. “I won’t apologize for taking care of him to the best of my ability. I owe my sister that much.”

  She was horrified to hear the crack in her voice as the last words left her mouth. She would not show weakness now. Except thoughts of never seeing Lana again still had the power to take her legs right out from under her.

  Blinking fast, she glanced out the window again as the darkness deepened. Near the road, a tractor tilled the ground with the help of headlights.

  If Desmond heard the emotions in her voice, he didn’t acknowledge them. But he continued, more gently, “What’s Matthew like?”

  “Brilliant,” she said without hesitation, grateful for the conversational about-face. “The more time I spend with him, the more I admire my sister for recognizing his unique abilities early on and finding a program to help him thrive. He’s great in math, with an uncanny memory for facts. He also draws really well, which has given us some common ground, since I work in graphic design.”

  She’d been fascinated by her nephew’s detailed ink sketches of skyscrapers and cityscapes he drew while in Prince Edward Island. The last-minute trip had been an attempt to keep him out of the spotlight in case the news of how he’d benefited from the Salazar book became public, but Desmond had assured her that information—for now—remained private.

  He steered off the county route and onto a private road, the movement hitching at his coat sleeve enough to expose a sleek silver Patek Philippe watch that cost more than she made in a year.

  “How are you adjusting to life as the guardian of a thirteen-year-old boy?” he asked with surprising insight. Caring, even.

  “Honestly?” She thought about how much her life had changed in the months since her sister died. Her world had been flipped on its ear. “It’s been a little overwhelming.”

  “I think any parent of a thirteen-year-old would agree it’s a lot of work.” He gave a nod to the operator of a tractor with a snowplow attachment traveling in the opposite direction.

  “It’s not because of Mattie, though,” she assured him, unwilling to give a false impression of her smart sweetheart of a nephew. “He’s great. I just worry I’m not doing things the right way. I’ll wake up at night in a panic that I messed up his health insurance or somehow compromised the educational services he receives any time I go into the school’s website to file a form.”

  Desmond’s phone chimed through the dashboard Bluetooth, but he hit a button to silence the screen, giving her his undivided attention.

  “From what I hear, that’s effective parenting. If you’re worried whether or not you’re doing a good job, you probably are.”

  For a moment, she thought his tone sounded almost wistful. But one glance over at his inscrutable expression told her she must be imagining it. Everything about Desmond Pierce suggested he’d been born to wealth and privilege, a background underscored by his attendance at the exclusive Dowdon School on the West Coast. All of the Mesa Falls owners had attended the expensive private institution that educated so many of America’s elite.

  “I hope that’s true.” She kept an eye on the road ahead for her first glimpse of the ranch after weeks away from Montana. “Has there been any progress from your private investigator about who was responsible for terminating me during my brief time working here?”

  A muscle flicked in Desmond’s jaw, a brief sign of displeasure despite his impassive visage.

  “Yes. And I can assure you it wasn’t any of my partners. But I’d like to save the debriefing until after you’re settled.” He glanced her way, his expression thoughtful. “I realize trust won’t come easily for either of us, but I want answers about your nephew as much as you do.”

  The sincerity in his voice was hard to miss. From their phone calls arranging this meeting, she’d had a glimpse of how much Desmond trusted his business partners. She understood he wanted to clear their names of all scandal having to do with the book their mentor had written that profited off real people’s misfortunes. But she didn’t share his faith in the men of Mesa Falls. Someone powerful had made sure she lost her job here.

  And maybe there was a reason Lana hadn’t identified the father of her child. Maybe he wasn’t a good person.

  “That’s fine,” she agreed as the impressive main lodge came into view. Built in the style of the National Parks lodges, the split-log structure combined woodsy appeal with elegance, the landscape lighting drawing attention to deep second-story balconies and huge glass windows overlooking the Bitterroot River. “But keep in mind I’m not some kind of diva guest who needs to unpack twelve suitcases’ worth of clothes for every occasion. I’ll be ready to go in an hour at most.”

  Desmond was silent for a moment as he pulled the SUV around the horseshoe driveway, stopping under a sheltered portico in front of the lodge. A liveried attendant approached the vehicle, but Desmond halted him with a gesture.

  “Would you like to have an early dinner?” Desmond turned toward her, his thigh shifting against the leather seat now that the vehicle was parked.

  His gray eyes met hers, the invitation she saw in them tickling her insides in a way that felt all wrong for a man she needed to be wary around. If any one of the Mesa Falls partners turned out to be Mattie’s father—Desmond included—they would have cause to take the boy away from her. Certainly any one of them would have the financial ability to hire the best attorneys to make that happen. Her stomach knotted.

  “I had something on the plane.” It wasn’t technically a lie, because she’d eaten the protein bar she’d packed from home. She had questions she wanted answered about her sister, and the sooner she got started on the quest, the sooner she could leave Montana for good. “I can meet with any of your partners who are free this evening—”

  “Me. I’m free this evening.” He looked at her with a singular focus, like she was the only thing he had on his agenda for the rest of the week. Or—a wicked part of her brain amended—like she was the only item on his personal menu. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in an hour, and we’ll get started.”

  Her pulse kicked up in answer, as if he’d suggested something more intimate than a business meeting. Her reactions were all off around him, distracting her from something important. She needed to put her nephew first no matter how confusing the sensual undercurrent between her and her host.

  “Good.” She gave a nod of confirmation, hating that her voice had sounded breathless. Hungry. And not just because she’d only eaten a protein bar. Grinding her teeth against the surge of unfamiliar feelings, Nicole shoved them to the back of her mind. “See you then
.”

  She must have missed a sign between Desmond and the valet, because no sooner were the words out of her mouth than the passenger side door was opened by an attendant.

  “Welcome to Mesa Falls, miss,” the young man said with a smile while another plucked her suitcase from the back. “I hope you enjoy your stay.”

  Off-balance but unwilling to show it, Nicole wrapped her coat tighter around her waist and turned to step outside.

  But not before Desmond’s parting words to her stroked along her senses.

  “I’m looking forward to it, Nicole.”

  Two

  Thoughts full of Nicole Cruz, Desmond walked into the state-of-the-art stables near the paddock, the building that housed the ranch offices. While not as outwardly showy as his private office at his casino resort in Tahoe, the Mesa Falls executive suite complemented the place.

  The stables downstairs were immaculately kept, for one thing, with each horse’s name on a stall. Only the best of their stock was kept here, prized studs available for a fee. He paused in front of a heavy stall door to stroke the nose of a racing champion quarter horse, Sundancer, his personal favorite. The chestnut tossed his proud head and whinnied when Desmond headed for the stairs to the upper story.

  The commitment to horses was an important mission of a ranch run in memory of Zach Eldridge, a schoolmate of the owners who’d cliff-jumped to his death on a horseback riding trip fourteen years ago. The friends who’d been with Zach that weekend had bought the ranch together as a way to keep his memory alive, although they’d never agreed on the exact circumstances of his death. The conditions had been all wrong for the jump. Had Zach known he wouldn’t survive and jumped to end his life? The question haunted them still. Zach had been the closest friend Desmond ever had, even though their friendship had been far too brief.