The American Heir: A Jet City Billionaire Romance (The Billionaire Duke Series Book 4)

by Gina Robinson

  Legs wrapped around him, I leaned my forehead against his, eyes closed, and traced his sweaty chest gently with tips of my fingers, enjoying the feel of him.

  Finally, I opened my eyes and kissed his shoulder. He had the indentation of hundreds of jewels on his chest.

  "I've branded you with my underwear!" I traced one of the indentations and gave him a wry, apologetic grin.

  He glanced at his chest and grinned back. "It's only temporary. And my own fault for holding you so close and buying you that lingerie in the first place. That was…" He took a deep breath. "The most awesome sex I've ever had."

  I smiled and pressed my forehead to his again, feeling almost shy. "Me too. But then, I don't have a long yardstick to measure it by."

  He laughed and kissed me lightly on the nose. "I do."

  "I don't know whether that's reassuring or not."

  "Let's put it this way. I was so lost in the moment, I didn't feel your jewels digging into me. Or if I did, I enjoyed it." He swept me into his arms, holding me tight against his chest, and carried me to the bed.

  Which was a good thing, because I really didn't think I could walk.

  He perched on one elbow, looking down at me. "You're so damn beautiful, duchess."

  My heart raced as I waited for him to say the words I'd been longing to hear. But they didn't come.

  Why did he have to be the man of my dreams—handsome, smart, funny? I almost said I love you to him right then. It was on the tip of my tongue. I held back. The time wasn't right.

  Chapter 8

  Haley

  Maybe sex can't heal everything, but our reunion on the Edwardian dresser at least thawed the chill between us, if not the distrust. No more separate bedrooms. At least not this night. We slept tangled in each other's arms.

  I got up early, leaving Riggins sleeping soundly in my bed while I showered and dressed. I loved the look of him soft and relaxed in sleep with his hair tousled and his long limbs sprawled. I was half hoping I'd find him still sleeping. But he was awake and reading his tablet in bed when I stepped out of the bathroom.

  He looked up and smiled at me. My fantasy bra and panties sat on my pillow next to him like crown jewels on a display pillow.

  "Have you seen this?" He turned his tablet toward me. "All the pictures we posed for, and this is the one they chose to lead the story with." He sounded more amused than anything.

  But my breath caught at the sight of the clandestine shot of me kissing Riggins on impulse at the reception and the caption that read, A duke very much in love with his pregnant duchess.

  Throughout my life there had been pictures so beautiful or true or intriguing that I wanted to step into them and bring them to life. Photos that filled me with fantasy or longing for something that would probably never be. Pictures of hot guys I'd never date. Love so strong I was sure I'd never feel it. Families so perfect, how could they ever exist?

  Improbably romantic embraces. Tropical locales where no one could feel a care. Photos of my parents like I'd never seen them—young, healthy, happy, and in love. Looking at them brought up a welling longing in me that was hard to put into words.

  This simple photo was the worst of them all. I immediately understood the reporter's misperception. In that picture, Riggins loved me. It was clear from our pose, his posture, and the expression on his face. That picture was exactly the way I wanted my life to be, with that caption. I wanted my duke to love me.

  But nothing in that picture was real. It was only faked.

  I laughed, nervous I'd give myself away. "Leave it to the press to create a fairytale." I glanced away from it and pointed to the lingerie on my pillow. "Will you put that in the safe for me today?"

  His face clouded over briefly. He nodded. "First thing."

  I smiled a little too brightly. "Good. Thank you. I have a busy day planned. How about you?"

  "Same." He raised an eyebrow. "What's on your agenda?"

  "I have to see a man about a possible illegitimate daughter."

  Riggins' expression froze. "Haley. Don't. Leave Bird out of this."

  "How can I? He must know something. He was in China when Sid was born. That can't be coincidence." I smiled at Riggins and sat on the edge of the bed next to him.

  He shook his head. "And he's a white guy, don't forget that." He shook his head. "So he must be Sid's bio dad. Is that the logic?"

  "I'm not going to accuse him of anything. I'm just going to pop round his cottage and see if he's happy with it. Maybe suggest it could use some updating. A little remodeling or refresh might be in order—"

  Riggins covered my hand on the bed with his. "He's a private guy. You'll only embarrass him."

  I frowned. "What would you have me do, then?" I felt my anger and frustration rising. My moods were mercurial, scuttling over me like wisps of clouds in the sky. I was easily upset. "With Sid's health in the balance?"

  "Let me help you. Like I promised. Let me hire a private eye to look into what Bird was doing in China and see if there's any connection. I know someone who's discreet. Thorne might be able to add a few clues that will help us. Let's look into things further before you start throwing accusations of fatherhood around." He squeezed my hand.

  Why hadn't I thought of that? My heart swelled with affection for him. There went another of my rapidly changing moods. This one was sappily happy that he remembered his word. And that we were on the same team for this one.

  "That would be…sweet of you." I smiled at him, wanting him to take me in his arms. "But I need to meet him, anyway. It's my duty as duchess." I leaned toward him. "You wouldn't want me to be remiss in my duties, would you?"

  He smiled back. "Absolutely not. Just behave yourself."

  "Meaning?"

  "You know what the hell I mean."

  He got up to take his shower, leaving me to read the article about our announcement of our pregnancy and stare at that picture. Yes, in that picture he definitely loved me. If only I could believe that the camera really didn't lie. Because if it didn't, he was hiding his feelings from me. And maybe from himself. And there was hope for us yet.

  I took a quick breakfast in the dining room, where the buffet had been pared down at Riggins' request. Actually, I agreed with him. These days I preferred toast for breakfast. Toast and Duke of Witham tea. It was one thing that always appealed to me. Though recently I'd been taking it without sugar.

  I left instructions with Mrs. Rees and her crew on which cleaning tasks were my top priority. And told Gibson my plans for the day. "I'll be out running errands this morning. This afternoon I'll be stopping by Bird's cottage for a brief visit and inspection. I've asked him to meet with me there. I'll take my tea around four."

  I had an important errand to run. I knew perfectly well how to drive, but not on the wrong side of the road. And not in one of the expensive cars that belonged to the castle. The thought of driving one made me nervous. I ordered a car service to pick me up on the road in front of the castle. I didn't want Riggins to know what I was up to, and the walk would do me good.

  On the way to meet the car, I stopped by the Ghost Tower. It was tall, gray, and foreboding. And locked tight. Riggins had said he and the security guard had locked it last night. He appeared to be right.

  It looked imposing and impenetrable. I had seen a light there. I hadn't imagined it. And ghosts didn't typically use lights, did they? Or shine so brightly they glowed like a candle?

  The building gave me the creeps. I hurried on and met my car just as it pulled up. "Glenrose Abbey," I told the driver.

  Riggins

  I was sleeping with my wife. And damn it, against my better judgment, I wanted to do it again and again. I got that idiotic grin on my face every time I thought about her.

  Before our lives together could continue, I had to put my suspicions, all of them, to rest. I called Thorne and arranged a meeting with him in London. Then I called the security firm and security expert I kept on retainer and laid my concerns out to them. I also ar
ranged a meeting with a private investigator in the London office of a well-respected international firm.

  Finally, I called up an old friend and asked a favor. I needed a recommendation for a social media expert to manage Haley's social media presence, appearances, and meetings with the press. No more leaving her to the foraging dogs of publicity. She needed someone savvy to handle things for her. If another story like the leaked pregnancy one popped up, we needed to be on top of it.

  Phone calls finished, I went to the Ghost Tower. It was less frightening in the daylight. And still locked tight. I walked around it, playing detective and looking for footprints and evidence. There had been too many people wandering the grounds. The area was covered with footprints in all shapes and sizes. And the cleanup crew had done a fucking fantastic job of cleaning up. There wasn't a cigarette butt or gum wrapper in sight.

  I cursed beneath my breath. If what I suspected was true, I was dealing with someone highly intelligent and skilled at not being seen.

  I let myself into the tower and flipped on the light. It was gloomy even in broad daylight. The floors, which had been covered with a fine layer of dust until recently, were marred with the footprints from last night of both myself and the guard. As closely as I studied them, I couldn't find any trace of a third pair of footprints. The dust didn't allow for leaving distinct enough markings.

  The best I could say was that if a third person had been in the tower last night, he was about the same shoe size as either the guard or me. There were no other signs that anyone had visited. Short of having a forensic team fingerprint the whole place, an exercise in futility, I was pretty sure, there was nothing more I could do. Maybe what Haley had seen was simply a trick of the light. But what light? How much light was there at midnight?

  Haley had to have been mistaken. I hoped like hell she was.

  Haley

  Glenrose Abbey, the Earl of Colchester's estate, was grand on the outside. But not nearly on the scale of Witham House. The difference in our ranks and financial status was blatantly clear. As it had been for hundreds of years, my family still outranked and outshone Rose's. Even the grounds, though beautifully manicured, were a miniature version of ours. It was clear that family property had been sold off to keep the estate going.

  Glenrose Abbey was open for tourists April through September, Tuesday through Saturday. There was a posted sign at the entrance to the drive. In a few short weeks, paid visitors would be crawling all over the grounds. But now the estate was as quiet as the private residence it used to be all year long.

  My car pulled to the front. The driver gave me a hand out. I asked him to wait for me. Unannounced visits could be such nasty surprises. I wasn't a fan of them, personally. I preferred to be neither the recipient nor the giver of them. I nearly lost my nerve. Imagining Sid laughing and encouraging me to master my inner bitch was the only thing that kept me going.

  I lifted my chin. I was a duchess. I could do this. For Sid. Riggins. And my baby.

  A teenage girl of about sixteen answered the bell. She bore a passing resemblance to Rose. Something through the eyes. She clearly knew who I was. She paled when she saw me.

  I smiled and extended my hand. "Haley, Duchess of Witham."

  "Yes, duchess. I know who you are." She looked nervously amused at my arrival. Like a spectator at a game. Eager to see a contest. Yet not convinced her team would win.

  "You must be one of Rose's sisters. Is Rose around? Her tweets would seem to indicate she is." And was still lounging in bed. I arched a brow. "I'll wait for her in the sitting room. If you'd be so good as to announce me."

  "This way." The girl motioned for me to follow her without denying anything. "The front rooms of the abbey are for the tourists. And filled with workers getting them ready for our season opening coming up. The family quarters are in back."

  The family quarters were considerably shabbier than the front rooms of the abbey. The earl's dwindling fortunes were pretty obvious even at a mere glance. All the pomp and splendor he had left to his name was on display for the tourist season. It was also obvious he'd had to sell much of the family treasure, including valuable antique furniture. Even the rooms for show were more sparsely furnished than our rooms at the castle.

  The furniture in the private quarters was from this century and not particularly expensive. Most of it was the cheap kind you bought in a box and assembled yourself. There were no pricey objects of art. And the walls were barren of anything but prints. All the family portraits were on display in the showy rooms of the castle open to the public. The room was tastefully enough done, but no more elegant than a flat any normal person would have.

  I took a seat as the girl ran off, calling for Rose. Her voice was filled with the singsong excitement of there's trouble coming for big sis. She seemed delighted by the prospect.

  I was half afraid Rose would refuse to see me. And prepared to get my way by any means necessary. Including a public Twitter war where I called her out to come downstairs and face me, lady to duchess. Was that a fair fight? I thought so. My money, righteous anger, and superior social position pitted against her celebrity and social media savvy. The air needed clearing, one way or another.

  She kept me waiting a good fifteen minutes, probably on purpose. Just as I was composing a text warning her to show herself or else, she strolled into the sitting room looking less put together than normal. Her fifteen-minute toiletry hadn't been enough to give her her usual high-fashion glow and glamour.

  I took a certain vindictive pleasure in being the more fashionable, elegant person. For once.

  It would have been usual for us to greet each other with stiff hugs. Instead we stared at each other in silence.

  "Well, don't you look lovely for so early in the morning," she said with a tinge of mocking humor in her voice. If she was afraid of me, she didn't show it.

  It was enough to know she realized our role reversal. I had meant to wield the element of surprise to my favor. Good to know I was succeeding. "Thank you, Rose."

  "What brings you here?" She stifled a yawn.

  I could have been insulted. I would have if I'd believed she was actually bored, not simply needing her morning coffee. Or something. Maybe she took some kind of caffeinated tea to wake her up in the morning.

  "You weren't at our pregnancy announcement party yesterday. I'm checking in to make sure you're feeling all right. We missed you."

  She was clearly stunned by the complete audacity and absurdity of my statement. Missed her? Right. I was calling her out, and she knew it.

  But Rose wasn't one to be taken off guard long. "And I was even sorrier to miss it. But it was unavoidable. I had to go to London. A prior appointment. Lovely photo circulating around the web, though. The two of you look very happy together. And who wouldn't when they're leading the fairytale life and expecting a new baby." How could such a sweet voice sound so cynical and accusatory?

  "I need to speak to you privately," I said, ignoring her barbed tone. "You won't want your family to hear what I have to say. Do you mind if we close the door?"

  She shrugged, acting too nonchalant, given the circumstances. "Close it if you like." She took a seat in a worn old chair.

  I closed the door and took a seat opposite her. "We both know you spilled my pregnancy news to the press." I meant to make her defensive. "What I don't know is why you did it behind my back? I was willing to help you. I would have given you the story to sell if you'd just given me time to tell Riggins about the baby first and asked for the story."

  Shock followed by triumph crossed her face. "Riggins didn't know?"

  "Don't play innocent with me." I frowned at her, trying to maintain control of my anger. "Of course he didn't know. You knew he'd been gone since before I'd have suspected I was pregnant. Naturally I'd wanted to tell him in person."

  She had the good grace to at least fake looking somewhat contrite. "Sorry."

  I was sure she wasn't. "Did you get the money you needed?"

 
Her eyes narrowed. "We aren't evicted, are we?"

  I raised an eyebrow.

  "Barely. And just in time." She might have added, No thanks to you. She looked like she wanted to.

  "But in the end it was all thanks to me, wasn't it?"

  "Good. At least you got what you needed for all the trouble you caused." I paused. "You know I would have helped you if I could."

  She didn't roll her eyes, but somehow made it plain she wanted to. "Really? You would have. You weren't too busy accepting multimillion-dollar knickers from your duke?"

  Somehow I maintained my composure. "Don't tell me that story has made its way here now."

  Nice move. She was clearly angling for the upper hand.

  She pulled her phone out of her pocket, brought up a screen, and spun it around to show me. "When a duke buys underwear with a multimillion-pound swing ticket, the word will get out all the way over here. It's all over social media."

  The absurdity of the situation hit me. I laughed. "One, I didn't have them when you asked me for money. And two, what would you want me to do? Pawn my panties?"

  She smiled then. "Score one for you. But you can rest assured. The earldom is safe. For a few months, at least."

  "Good. Because I want to make it clear I won't be as forgiving if something like this happens again." I didn't need Rose making a habit of selling my secrets for cash. Not without my permission, anyway.

  She shrugged again. It seemed to be her signature move.

  I took it as her way of agreeing. "As long as we're clear. And while we're making things clear, understand this, too. You can stop any further scheming to break Riggins and me up to get a share of the dukedom. My claim to the inheritance goes well beyond marrying Riggins. I'm the late duke's great-granddaughter, and I can prove it."

  Rose's mouth fell open. I'd actually taken her by such surprise she had no retort. I thought she paled a little too as I explained a bit more about what I'd found.