by Nina Milne
The diner door opened and he turned. A woman in an elf suit just like Leni’s walked in.
The other waitress. Most likely Elenore Long.
His eyes narrowed as he studied her. She was fifty, at least. Her chestnut hair curled around a square face and her eyes were blue. His heiress was the first of three children fathered by Mark Hinton, who’d died two weeks ago at the age of sixty. This woman was too old to be his child, even his firstborn.
He rose from his stool. “You’re the other waitress?”
The woman began unbuttoning her coat. “Yeah.”
“I think he’s been waiting for you, Mom.”
Nick swung to face Leni again. “Mom?”
“That’s my mom. Denise Long, Mr. Owner-of-a-Money-Management-Firm. If you think we got a settlement to invest after my dad’s injury, you’re wrong. We can barely get the insurance company to pay his medical bills.”
He fell to the round red stool again. “I’m not after your dad’s money.” He took a quick breath and caught Leni’s gaze. “Your last name is Long?”
“Yeah.”
Not taking any chances, he said, “And Leni is a nickname for something?”
He waited for confirmation but deep down he already knew the answer.
“Elenore.”
He ran his fingers along his brow. “Elenore Long.” He shook his head. If he hadn’t been so blinded by her bedroom eyes, glorious mane of hair and sexy little body, he probably would have figured that out. “You’re Elenore Long?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Is there someplace private you and I can talk?”
She pressed her hand to her chest. “I’m the person you’re here to see?”
“Yes.”
“Why? I could barely get student loans. I don’t have anything to hand over to a money management firm.”
“Seriously. We have to talk someplace private.” He caught her gaze. “Now.”
* * *
Leni had never seen anybody’s mood shift so quickly. He went from cute and flirty to serious in under a second. But that was fine since she was totally confused by him. First, he wanted to talk to her mom. Now he wanted to talk to her?
“The only people in the diner are you, me and my mom. George, the cook, is outside smoking.” She glanced around. “We can just go to one of the booths in the back.”
“Okay.” He pointed to the last booth in the farthest corner. “We’ll sit there.”
He walked behind her until they reached the table. Then he slid onto the bench across from her.
“My name is Nick Kourakis. I work for a money management firm in New York City.”
“So, you said. And I told you my family doesn’t have any money to invest.”
“I know.”
His eyes darkened as he studied her. With all his attention centered on her face, she had to hold back a shudder. She had never seen a man this good-looking. But as she thought that, she noticed that his gray overcoat was stunningly made, and his white shirt and tie looked expensive. As big as he was, he wore both effortlessly, as if he was accustomed to luxury. Maybe even made for it.
She suddenly realized he wasn’t gorgeous so much as he was a combination of the whole package. Expensive clothes. Sparkling clean. Handsome.
And wealthy.
Probably so rich, she couldn’t even fathom the amount of money he had.
“I’m not selling anything. I’m not even here on behalf of the money management firm. I was sent here to retrieve you.”
“Retrieve me?” His sultry brown eyes held her captive, sending warmth swimming through her blood, confusing her, almost hypnotizing her.
“Because I have some exciting news for you.”
“Oh, yeah?” She fought the strange sensations assaulting her with sarcasm. “And what would that be?”
“First, what I have to tell you has to remain confidential.”
Some of her equilibrium returned. “Okay.”
He leaned back on the bench. “Have you ever heard of Mark Hinton?”
More of her confidence came back. Enough to put starch in her spine. “No.”
“He’s a billionaire...or was. We have reason to believe you are one of the people mentioned in his will.”
“Oh...” Her composure took a tumble. Imagining herself getting as much as ten thousand dollars and paying off some of the bills that had accumulated since her dad’s injury, she told her wishful-thinking brain to stop before she got her hopes up. “That’s good. Right?”
“It could potentially be wonderful.”
“Dude, wonderful to me is enough money to pay my dad’s medical bills.”
“It’s more than that.”
New thoughts scrambled around in her brain. Like buying her dad the service dog he needed because of his seizures, and not worrying about the company forcing him back to work.
But as quickly as her good thoughts set up shop, some bad thoughts came tumbling in. Adopted at eight, after a year in foster care when her biological mom gave her up, she’d always believed she was not a lucky person. The way she’d struggled for eight years just to afford her basic bachelor’s degree backed that up. “What’s the catch?”
“Before I say another word, I need your promise that you won’t talk about this with anyone until I tell you that you can.”
A laugh bubbled out. “You want me to take a vow of silence?”
“You are the first of three potential heirs to Mark Hinton’s estate. A huge estate. You can tell your parents, but that’s it. And they have to promise to keep this news to themselves. Frankly, it’s a matter of your personal safety.”
It all seemed to so preposterous that it couldn’t sink in. As good as it would be to be rich, she was much too practical to believe in magic or miracles. It had to be a joke or a mistake.
When she said nothing, he sighed. “Do you have your phone?”
She pulled it out of her apron pocket.
“Search Mark Hinton.”
She did as he said, though she mumbled, “Anybody can put up a fake website.”
But her phone produced eight thousand results for Mark Hinton. Her gaze leaped to Nick’s. “What is this?”
“Information on his life.” He paused for a second before he added, “I was sent here by the law firm handling your dad’s estate. The attorney in charge is stuck in court today. He’s a friend of mine, and my family’s firm manages your father’s fortune, so I was picked to come in his place.”
She barely heard anything after he said “your dad’s estate.” Her breath stumbled. “My dad’s?”
She struggled to take it all in. Her biological mom hadn’t told her anything about her father. She would always say he wasn’t important, and they didn’t need him. At seven, she’d known that wasn’t true when her mom couldn’t afford to keep her anymore.
“According to the estate lawyer, the paper trail says Mark Hinton is your father,” Nick said. “But they’ll be getting DNA.”
She leaned back in disappointment and disbelief, her voice dull when she said, “My biological father was rich.”
“One of the first multibillionaires.” Nick shifted. “If you let this get out before the estate has a chance to protect you, you will be mobbed by people who want money. You’ll be a target for scam artists and kidnappers. I came here not merely to tell you, but to take you to New York so the lawyer can make the process of vetting you easier for you.”
Something Leni couldn’t define or describe fluttered through her, tightening her chest, making her head spin. She looked at the eight thousand results to her search and saw the words billionaire, reclusive, oil and gas prodigy and missing heirs.
Her heart stopped then burst to life again with such a frantic beat she thought she’d faint. This would be more than enough money to care for her dad.
“You think this guy is my father and I’m one of these heirs?”
“The estate lawyer is fairly certain you’re one of the heirs. He says the paper trail is solid. But they’ll do a DNA test to confirm it.”
Her voice came out as a squeak as she said, “Okay.”
“For confidentiality purposes and for your safety, you have to go to New York now.” He paused long enough to catch her gaze. “Will you come with me?”
Ten minutes ago, that offer probably would have scrambled her pulse. Now? The happy, flirty guy was gone. A businessman had replaced him.
She almost missed the flirty guy. But her brain had been captured by the idea that she might be wealthy enough that her parents would no longer have to worry about money.
Still, she wasn’t going to New York with a man she didn’t know, based solely on his word. “Give me a day?”
“The plan was to leave as soon as we told you.”
She shook her head. “I want a day. Twenty-four hours to explain all this to my parents and to check you out.”
“I can provide you with references—”
“No thanks. I’ll find what I need on my own.” She’d check every dark and moldy corner of the internet if she had to, to make sure he was for real.
There was no way she’d leave for New York with a stranger. And no way she’d get her parents’ hopes up for nothing.
Copyright © 2019 by Linda Susan Meier
ISBN-13: 9781488043963
Their Christmas Royal Wedding
First North American publication 2019
Copyright © 2019 by Harlequin Books S.A.
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