Seducing the Heiress

by Martha Kennerson

  “We agreed to work this case together no matter what or where it leads us.” Farrah adjusted her purse on her shoulder. “This elevator sure is slow. Besides, you’d look out of place attending a Broadway show alone, no matter how good you may look in a tux,” she said, giving him that smile that could melt snow.

  “I still don’t get why we have to sit through a Broadway play just to find out information about Alexia’s clients,” Robert complained.

  “A little culture won’t kill you,” Farrah teased, chuckling at his scowl. “Not everyone’s into extreme testosterone-fueled activities—base-jumping, free-hand mountain climbing—”

  “High-stakes gambling,” Robert offered, snickering.

  Farrah glared at him through narrowed eyes. “We have to find out who she’s working with, and from all the information I’ve been able to gather, the common denominator seems to be this play. She thought it was the perfect cover.”

  “Who uses a play as a cover for corporate sabotage?”

  “According to more than one of my informants, not to mention all the playbills we found in Alexia’s apartment, she seems to do exactly that,” she said.

  “I find it ironic that she chose Chicago for this particular activity, don’t you?” he asked.

  “Not...really,” she said, frowning.

  “All the women in the play are criminals,” he said, laughing. “You don’t find that ironic?”

  “Not at all. She’s a criminal. She can relate,” Farrah said, shrugging. “And since the firm is in the business of putting criminals behind bars, as well as protecting people, it’s not ironic to us, either.”

  The back office elevator doors finally opened and they were met by a wall of mahogany wood with raised panels, a wood tray ceiling with a small crystal chandelier and dark travertine tile floors. Although this elevator didn’t have a red velvet sofa and carpeted floors, it was a sight that was very familiar to them. As soon as they stepped inside, it was as if they were transported back in time to a place where they were wrapped in a familiar blanket of desire. They looked at each other and smiled; clearly they were both remembering the last time they’d been in a similar tight situation together. When they’d finally stopped fighting their desire for each other.

  “This is one of the owners’ private elevators. It opens into his personal suite. Why do you have a key?” Farrah asked, giving Robert a mischievous smile.

  “Because I happen to be one of those owners,” Robert replied, leaning against the elevator wall, while admiring the sexy strapless red mini dress and sky-high heels she wore. He reached over and pushed the stop button on the vintage elevator panel.

  Farrah opened her mouth to protest but quickly closed it. Within seconds, the phone that was concealed behind a wooden panel rang. Robert kept his eyes on Farrah while picking up the receiver. “Stand down, everything’s fine,” he said before disconnecting. “Got to love Vegas security.”

  Robert closed the short distance between them, trapping Farrah between the wall of the elevator and his wide chest. Farrah raised her chin and the movement caused her breasts to rise—showing off her cleavage as she gifted him with that slow sexy smile he loved. He leaned forward and rested the palms of his hands against the wall to brace himself. Farrah rose up on the tips of her toes, circled her arms around Robert’s neck and kissed him. Her taste ignited something inside of him and Robert returned the kiss with far more passion than he’d intended.

  Lost in the moment, Robert took his right hand and reached under Farrah’s dress. He ripped off the thin piece of lace and string she called panties, placed it in his jacket pocket and started stroking her core with the tips of two fingers. He stared into her eyes and watched as she fell to pieces in his hand. Robert moved in closer, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, then lowered a few inches to devour Farrah’s lips before he brought those same fingers to his mouth and kissed off her essence. “Delicious,” he said as he watched her dilated pupils widen.

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” Farrah said in a voice barely above a whisper before capturing his lips into another passionate kiss. “Hmm....”

  Robert picked Farrah up and carried her the two feet to the velvet sofa placed against the back wall of the elevator. He sat with Farrah straddled across his lap. “Wife,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Husband,” she replied.

  The elevator stopped, releasing them from the past, and they both stood in silence as the doors opened to no one. The doors closed again and Robert turned to face Farrah. The dress she wore may have been different and the environment not exactly the same, but Robert’s desire for Farrah was stronger than ever.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Farrah said, clearly reading his intentions as she slowly backed away from him.

  “Too late,” Robert replied, backing her up against the elevator’s wall. He placed his hands on both sides of her face, lowered his head and greedily took her mouth, as though everything in the kiss mattered to him, as though she mattered to him.

  Farrah grabbed his shoulders and returned his kiss with just as much vigor. Robert managed to fight through the sexual haze and remember that this particular elevator wasn’t private. Robert slowly released her mouth and stepped away from her. He was breathing hard and his sex was begging for release.

  They stared at each other for several moments. Farrah raised her hand and placed her fingers across her swollen lips, which were quickly followed by her tongue.

  “Damn it!” Robert started to step back to Farrah only to be stopped by the halt of the elevator. The doors opened and two Hispanic men dressed in expensive-looking suits entered.

  Robert stepped back and crossed his hands low and in front of him, doing his best to hide the evidence of his desire.

  “Second floor, please,” one of the men said to Robert. who was standing next to the control panel.

  “No problem,” Robert replied, pressing the button with his elbow, causing one of the men to take a swift look at Farrah, then back to Robert’s strategically placed hands.

  “Looks like we should have taken the next one,” the shorter of the two men teased, causing Farrah to blush.

  The doors opened to the second floor and both men took their exit without any further comment.

  “Farrah—”

  “No!” she said, using her hand to halt his words. “Please don’t.”

  The elevator doors opened to the ground floor. Farrah smoothed out her dress, raised her chin and walked out of the elevator.

  “See you later,” Farrah called back over her shoulder.

  “Sooner than you think,” Robert murmured as he watched her take her leave. Robert pulled out his phone and placed a call that he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to make so soon. “Fletcher... Robert Gold. Farrah’s getting anxious, so it’s time to move forward with Plan B.”

  “You sure about this, man? Why not just tell her the truth?” Fletcher asked.

  “She’s not ready for the truth just yet, but hopefully soon she will be.”

  “If you say so, but I’d better not lose my license over this. She’s a damn good attorney with a sharp legal mind and an impeccable reputation,” Fletcher said, his concern evident—as well it should be. Farrah was also known for her prominent list of contacts, long memory and ability to hold a grudge—something that made Robert’s plan all that more dangerous.

  “I know, but don’t worry about it. If things go south, I’ll take all the blame. Just bring all the necessary paperwork to my office in the morning.” Robert pulled his car keys from his pocket and started his car so the air conditioning would kick in by the time he got in.

  “If you’re sure, I’ll see you first thing in the morning?” Fletcher asked, obviously needing one final reassurance.

  “I’m sure. Losing Farrah isn’t an option...no matter what I have to do,”
Robert said, disconnecting the call.

  * * *

  “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long,” Trey said, offering Farrah a wide smile that showed off a set of deep dimples as he reached for her hand.

  Farrah stood. “Not at all. I just arrived.” His large hand engulfed hers and she smiled and sighed at his touch, but the confident and satisfied look on Trey’s face told her he’d obviously gotten the wrong idea. Yes, she found him attractive; what red-blooded woman wouldn’t? The tall, muscularly built litigator with smooth, milk-chocolate skin and sexy dark eyes would complete most women’s must-have list, but his touch only confirmed what she already knew. No one’s touch could affect her like Robert’s—a fact she wasn’t ready to deal with—which also had her quickly extracting her hand from Trey’s. At some point, Farrah had to put her feelings for Robert in their proper perspective, but it wouldn’t happen on the heels of her falling into the arms of another man.

  “Please follow me.” Trey led Farrah through the lobby of Steel & Associates, which left no doubt that she was dealing with a successful and very expensive firm. If the eighty-first floor location in one of Houston’s most expensive buildings wasn’t enough of a hint, the expensive furnishings and artwork most certainly would be.

  “Are you okay? You look a little flushed.”

  “I’m fine.” Farrah felt slightly embarrassed, as she was still reeling from the effects of Robert’s kiss and the fact that she’d acted like a shameless hussy and gone all in for that kiss like a wanton woman.

  “Have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink?” Trey asked.

  “No, thanks.” Farrah took a place at the conference table near the door and slid open a set of documents he had prepared. “So, what have you and your team determined?”

  Trey took the chair next to Farrah. “That not only are you beautiful but you’re an exceptional attorney.”

  The compliment made her smile, but his sensual tone was off-putting.

  “I don’t see why they brought me in on this in the first place.”

  “It certainly wasn’t my idea,” she murmured, her eyes still on the document before her.

  “Hmm. Mr. Control?”

  “Mr. Control?” she questioned, looking up from the page.

  “Robert Gold,” he said. Farrah returned her eyes to her document. “It sounds like he might have some doubt in your ability where there shouldn’t be. So far, we haven’t seen anything that makes me think you missed anything with your initial filing, and that your response is on point, with one exception.”

  Farrah lifted her gaze again from the document that had captured her attention and locked it on him. “And that would be what, exactly?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

  “That’s what I admire most about you, Farrah. Your confidence.” His dark brown eyes narrowed in on her. “You can’t even imagine that you might have missed something or could be going in the wrong direction, can you?”

  “I worked every possible line of defense in my mind before I even committed it to paper. If you have something to say, Trey, spit it out,” she demanded.

  “In a nutshell, your response to the lawsuit is that Robert Gold’s plans are based solely on his own work product and not anything that has been provided, past or present, by the complainant,” Trey explained.

  “Correct.”

  “Yet, you offer no proof.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms against the edge of the table. “We need something to substantiate that...something that counters what they’ve presented or could potentially present.”

  Inwardly, she chuckled. “I realize that, and we’re working on it,” she replied, understanding that she had been so busy holding her cards close to the chest that she hadn’t considered that Trey needed another piece of vital information. “We’re in the process of trying to find whoever’s behind all this as well as the forger that created the forged drawings that they used in their complaint document.”

  Trey sat upright quickly, surprise evident in his expression. “Are you now? And what happens if you don’t?”

  She closed her eyes a moment, and flashed through every possible scenario and summed it up with, “To be perfectly honest? We’re screwed... I’m screwed.”

  Trey’s full lips lifted in a small smile. “No, you’re not. I have my team checking on a few more angles for us to explore. Have dinner with me so we can talk through all the options and opportunities before us.”

  The only “angle” Trey Steel wanted to work was the horizontal tango. “Really, Trey? You throw in a cheesy pickup line when you ask me to a working dinner? Where’d you learn that? Caveman Practices 101?”

  “A brother’s got to try.”

  “Not really,” Farrah said, laughing. “You can try, just not with me.”

  “But a sister also has to eat,” he hedged.

  “Thanks, but I have other plans already. Why don’t you just email your ideas and I’ll take a look at what you have in mind?”

  “Rain check?” he asked with one raised eyebrow.

  “Let’s just focus on the response.” Farrah got up and headed to the door.

  “I never give up, you know,” Trey declared, and she recognized it for the challenge he meant it to be.

  “Of course I know,” she shot back. “That’s why we became attorneys in the first place.”

  His laughter followed her from the conference room.

  Chapter 4

  Farrah drove into the underground garage of the Blake & Montgomery office building and parked in her assigned space. She turned off the ignition and laid her head back against the headrest of her new white Porsche 911 Turbo Coupe. Farrah believed in working hard so she could play equally hard, which meant having some really cool toys—fast cars, a beautiful boat and vacation homes all over the world. Her most recent purchase was a prime piece of real estate in Paris, France, with views the length of the Champs-Élysées to the Arc de Triomphe.

  Farrah pushed up her sun visor and caught a glimpse of her image in its mirror. The sight of her lips summoned the memory of the kiss she’d shared with Robert. “What the hell’s wrong with you? This is exactly why you have to either learn to control yourself or stay the hell away from him,” she said to her reflection.

  She noted that Robert’s car was missing from its space. They drove the same kind of Porsche, but his was a startling black. He, too, had a thing for enjoying life and a few expensive toys. Something that should make them gravitate toward one another, but his capacity to make her feel inadequate about her work was the very thing that drove her away. She couldn’t understand why he didn’t just trust her ability to handle their court case to its end.

  Farrah exited the car, entered their building and made her way to the floor where the administrative offices of Blake & Montgomery were located. In addition to their company, their building housed her and her sister’s personal residences as well as several additional apartments. Farrah walked past the midlevel cubicles as she headed to her office after being stopped only once.

  Farrah’s office was designed exactly like her sister’s, only her furnishings were less traditional and more contemporary. A large oval-shaped curly-redwood desk with a turquoise inlay was the focal point of the room. There was also a six-seat, round curly-redwood conference table with red leather high-back chairs, and bookshelves that held a mixture of books and antique art pieces. In a corner stood a small, fully stocked bar and an antique hidden safe.

  She had just powered up her computer when her office door flew open and only partly closed, allowing Paul White, the Blake sisters’ part-time stylist, to make a dramatic entrance.

  “Where have you been? I’ve been dying here. How did Francine’s ultrasound go?” Paul asked, excitement written all over his clean-shaven face as he placed an electronic tablet and coffee cup on Farrah’s de
sk. He used his hand to brush his curly black hair from his face.

  Paul also happened to hold the title of Francine and Farrah’s assistant, best friend and unofficial brother. They’d been friends throughout grade school and when Paul’s family abandoned him after he came out his sophomore year of college, the Blake family had welcomed him with open arms, making his college years less lonely—his words exactly.

  “You need a haircut,” Farrah said.

  “I know. What happened?”

  “You mean she hasn’t called you yet?” Farrah said, frowning as she leaned back in the Herman Miller chair.

  “Yeah, she called while I was on the phone taking care of everything for your New York trip, so she had to leave me a message.” Paul slipped his tall, lean frame into the chair across from Farrah’s desk—his favorite spot. “All she said was that she had ‘big news’ and that she’d call me later because she was taking the rest of the day off to celebrate with Meeks. So...” Paul’s hazel eyes had widened and he was rotating his index finger. “Spill. What are they celebrating?”

  Paul leaned in, eyebrows rising in comedic fashion.

  “The ultrasound revealed that...” She paused for dramatic effect.

  “Woman, don’t make me kill you up in this fancy office of yours!”

  “They’re having twins—a boy and girl.”

  Paul flew out of his chair and started dancing around the room. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

  At that moment, Robert’s face flashed through her mind again, and she felt a pain in her chest that she didn’t dare give a name. Would she have been happy if she’d gotten news that she was carrying Robert’s child? Would they share doctor’s appointments, quarrel over baby names before compromising over the best ways to prepare to bring their child into the world? No, that can’t be. What’s wrong with you? Why was he always in her thoughts these days?