Seducing an Heiress

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Seducing an Heiress Page 14

by Judy Teel


  Dakota glanced over at Trey who looked as stunned as she felt. He met her eyes and shrugged. "Didn't see that one coming."

  * * *

  Staring at the last paragraph on the page in her hand, Dakota couldn't help feeling like the lowest life form on the planet. She'd become the enemy, snooping into people's lives, looking for their weaknesses, trying to figure out how she could exploit their flaws.

  She wondered what flaws she had that made her vulnerable to exploitation. As a teenager, all she'd wanted was for her father to value her. See her as important, as an asset. Maybe even to love her a little.

  With a start, Dakota realized those natural desires had turned into her flaws. As a master of manipulation, they had given her father all the leverage he needed to keep her under control.

  She stared at the stiletto sandal sitting on her counter. In anger and frustration she'd turned her back on him and run away. Then she'd buried her feelings of loss instead of coming to grips with them. Because of that, she'd been blind to the opportunity to see beyond Trey's walls, to get to know him, even trust him a little.

  It was time for her to release the disappointments of childhood and focus on the blessings in her life, now. Trey might eventually move on, but unlike Jack, she hoped their friendship would remain. It would ease the emptiness she knew he would leave behind.

  An ache of sorrow moved through her, but she pushed it aside. She would grieve his leaving when it happened. Right now she had to worry about resolving the threat Aines posed.

  Dakota held out the paper she held.

  "Find something?" Trey asked, looking up from the stack of photos in his hand.

  "He has two children. His daughter is brilliant. Scores off the charts in every test and subject. Wants to go to Harvard to study medicine. His son is handicapped. The care he requires costs a small fortune."

  Trey took the page and quickly read over the information. "That explains a lot."

  "I can't believe he only asked for two-hundred thousand."

  "Blackmail never stops. He probably has plans to hit you up on a regular basis."

  "That's what you meant by 'damage control, isn't it?'"

  "Yup. Did you see this address? He doesn't live far from here."

  She hadn't noticed that. "I thought he was from New York."

  Reaching across the table, Trey leafed through another pile of papers. "Originally, but his wife is from Cleveland where she trained as a hair dresser. Look, here's a picture."

  When she saw it her stomach sank to her toes. "Oh, no." Dakota stared at the photo of the pleasant-looking woman. "Chicken noodle soup, no noodles."

  "What?"

  "She came in to Hearth and Home just last week. I remember because her order was so unusual. She asked me why I'd changed the color of my hair. She said red probably wasn't the best choice for me."

  Trey grimaced. "A casual dinner conversation at home. Details about her day, where she'd had lunch. Maybe a description of the woman who didn't know squat about hair color. Aines got suspicious."

  "He never came in. I would have noticed."

  "A few pictures from a parked car would have given him all he needed."

  A chill ran over her thinking about him spying on her like that. She felt violated and she glared at the sandal. "I don't feel as guilty about snooping into his private life, at least."

  Leaning back in his chair, Trey turned his attention to the stiletto too. "He needs money for his kids, that's obvious. One for the care of his son. Two for his daughter's schooling. That's probably more than we can manage in one go." His gaze shifted to her. "Do you know anyone who can help the girl get a full scholarship?"

  Memories of a past assignment for her father stirred in her mind. "Years ago I tipped off a guy when Dad was looking for investors in one of his shakier deals. With the promise of doubling his money in a matter of months, he was about to take his life's savings and put it into the scheme. He was a nice family guy. I couldn't let him get taken like that."

  "How can he help?"

  "He's poker buddies with the Associate Deans for Admin and Finance at Harvard's Medical school. Maybe he'd be willing to sponsor her."

  Trey's eyebrows rose a fraction. "Good. Check it out. That kind of connection might be worth something to Aines."

  Dakota scribbled a note for herself on a scrap of paper. "What about money for the son's care?"

  "For that he'll need a scoop." Trey leaned toward her and laid a hand on her knee. His warmth spread up her thigh, making her tingle in all the right places. "It's time to seriously consider the other half of my idea."

  "Thanks for the mood killer." Dakota got up and retreated into the kitchen.

  "What's wrong with changing the theme of your place?"

  She poured herself a fresh cup of coffee. "I like it just the way it is, that's what's wrong. It's me. I don't want to change me."

  "I'm not suggesting you abandon yourself. I'm suggesting you embrace yourself. He'll get his money and you'll get all the business you can handle."

  "You don't know that."

  "Remember, I witnessed the sale of that dress of yours. Trust me. The public will go wild for it."

  She chewed her bottom lip and stared out the window over her sink. Looking across the sprawling rooftops and cheerfully lighted windows of Harts Creek had always calmed her. But not tonight.

  If she refused would she have to say goodbye to the town that felt like home? How could she handle that and lose Trey too?

  Dakota set her mug on the counter. It was time to face her past. All of it. She turned back to Trey. "All right, I'll do it, but it's going to take a miracle to pull this off."

  "I don't believe in miracles. I'd stake my life on a good solid business deal, though."

  * * *

  The prospect of an economic boom had swept through the town like wildfire. He hadn't seen a community pull together like this since the day he lost his grandfather.

  The unexpected memory sent a punch of revelation through Trey. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten.

  But now the distant impression of neighbors swooping down on his grandfather's house and barring the way of the social worker rose up in his mind. The couple next door even went nose to nose with the sheriff, accusing him of being no better than a child abuser.

  The empty, cold spot under his solar plexus softened and grew a fraction warmer. Why hadn't he remembered? All his life he'd thought everyone he'd come to trust hadn't really cared, that they'd turned their backs on him. Irrationally, he'd believed that of Grandfather, too.

  So he'd turned his back on humanity and focused on beating the world at its own, selfish game. He'd felt safe, but it had left him empty.

  Until he met Dakota.

  Was it time to rethink his assumptions? Did he dare to open up, just a little?

  An uncomfortable itch grated through in his stomach. Or had being around all these wholesome people turned him into nothing but a sappy idiot?

  Mentally disengaging from the trap of self analysis, Trey turned his attention to watching the rotund Mrs. Aster barrel into Aines in front of the post office. The collision knocked the guy sideways and sent the large manila envelope in his hand flying. Right into a convenient mud puddle. Apparently, the good citizens of Harts Creek were taking no chances on him sending pictures off before they were ready.

  Aines started cursing at her and Mrs. Aster rounded on him, giving the guy what looked like the tongue lashing of the century. His face turned red and he backed down, meekly retrieving the ruined package.

  As he skulked away, Trey almost felt sorry for the reporter. He had no idea the elaborate spying system Dakota's friends had set up. They knew his every move. Probably before he did.

  Trey closed the curtains of the new Missing Heiress Café and went over to the table where Dakota had her laptop set up. The place was still closed for renovations and it bustled with activity.

  Chelsea and Lori along with two other women worked in one corner on a new sig
n for the restaurant. On the far wall, some local long-haired artist painted a modern-style cityscape scene featuring a decked out Dakota riding in a stretch limo. On the other wall, Mrs. Tilster ordered her teenage grandson around like a battleship commander as they worked on grouping the numerous magazine shots of Dakota, including the recent photos taken in Cincinnati.

  Trey had added his carpentry skills by renovating the counter area and expanding the storage in the kitchen. Working with his hands again had been gratifying, adding to the list of personal revelations that his time in Harts Creek had given him. There was a lot he was going to miss about this place.

  Behind him, Dakota cursed under her breath. She'd been working on the new menu for the last hour. By the sound of it, things weren't going too well.

  "Having trouble?" Trey pulled a chair over, flipping it around before he sat down. He rested his arms on the top of the back.

  "Whenever I let myself think about what I'm about to do, I feel exposed."

  "You were brave enough to defy your father. Now you get to defy public opinion, too."

  She looked at him, her expression troubled. "I'm a little scared. I almost didn't get out of there the first time. Once Dad finds out where I am..."

  "Screw Dad."

  She blinked at him like the concept of completely dismissing her father had never occurred to her. Then a hesitant smile lifted her beautiful mouth. "Maybe I'm not as used to the idea of being independent as I thought."

  "Let me see what you have so far." He turned the laptop around and scanned the menu she was designing. "I'll have Going Clubbing Potato Soup with a Make Mine a Nooner cinnamon bun. And add one of those Five Carat Heiress muffins while you're at it." He grinned at her. "I feel naughty just saying it."

  Dakota chuckled. "That's the idea.'" Her expression sobered. "What about families, though?"

  "Have a separate list of choices for the kids and put a PG-13 rating on the grown-up menus."

  "Titillating." She quirked a brow at him.

  "Always." He stood, then on impulse, leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Even that brief touch had him wanting to do a lot more, but with a room full of people he wasn't sure she'd appreciate the gesture.

  She hid her surprise by turning back to the computer. But she couldn't quite suppress the way her face glowed with pleasure.

  "I better go," he said, realizing if he didn't leave now he never would.

  Her expression sobered. "Be careful. You can't trust him."

  "This is about good business. Trust has nothing to do with it."

  A troubled look passed over her face, but she wished him luck and turned back to her computer without saying anything.

  As he left the restaurant, Trey felt acutely aware that he'd let her down, but he wasn't sure exactly how. She wasn't coming to trust him, was she?

  Dakota was a smart woman, she would never do that. The possibility disturbed him.

  He didn't want to be responsible for her trust. To have something as priceless as that...would be a complete game changer.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Trey knocked on the door of Aines' hotel room. Phase two was about to begin.

  When the reporter saw who it was, his eyes widened in alarm. Trey blocked the door before he could slam it closed.

  "I've got a business proposition for you," he said.

  "I already have one."

  "Mine could be worth four-hundred thousand to you."

  The pressure on the other side of the door eased up. Aines slowly opened it. "I'm listening."

  "I'm here to offer you an exclusive. The article and pictures will be worth a fortune and not just to your usual crap publications. You'll be the only member of the press there to cover it."

  Aines looked him up and down. "What's in it for you?"

  "I'm motivated purely by friendship."

  "I bet," Aines said, sneering.

  Trey held in his temper, at least the bulk of it. "Wouldn't you like going home to your family and telling them you did an honest day's work for a change?"

  The reporter's expression darkened, but he didn't shut the door. "You have a funny way of convincing someone to cooperate with you."

  Trey held up a piece of paper. "That's because I have something to sweeten the deal. The name and number of a guy at Harvard who can help your daughter." When Aines reached for it, Trey snatched it back. "You'll get it when you show up for the story."

  Crossing his arms, Aines gave him a grudging look of respect. "I won't ask how you know my girl wants to go to Harvard, but I would feel a lot more motivated if I knew who this 'guy' is who's so willing to help."

  Trey named the Associate Dean with whom Dakota had spoken and the reporter's eyes widened.

  He stuck out his hand. "What do you want me to do?"

  "This negates any known or perceived agreements you have with Dakota," Trey said, firmly.

  "Sure, sure."

  Trey put a contract into Aines' hand, surprising him. He must have been expecting nothing but a handshake to seal the deal. That almost made him laugh.

  "I'll be back for that in a couple hours," Trey said. "It outlines our requirements for you to interview Dakota in a couple days, and then release the story and pictures as fast as you can at any price you can negotiate. We'll also expect you to stay around to cover the fallout from the story. We'll need copies of everything including eight by ten glossies at no cost to us, but any fees you negotiate for the coverage are yours to keep."

  His beady eyes skimmed over the contract Trey had given him. "Sounds like you've thought of everything. What kind of scam are you two cooking up?"

  He gave Aines a level look. "All we need from you is the most sensational coverage you can manage. Do you think you can handle that?"

  The reporter's mouth pulled into a straight line that Trey supposed was meant to be a smile "I'm a professional, Peters. You won't be disappointed."

  * * *

  Looking around her revamped restaurant, Dakota knew she should be proud of their efforts. And she was, she told herself. It was just... Absently, she touched the bridge of her nose to push up her glasses. They weren't there, of course. She didn't need her disguise anymore. She'd even had her hair dyed back to black.

  Anxiety trickled through her.

  She shouldn't be scared, she told herself. Everything was coming together beautifully.

  The meeting with Aines had gone surprisingly well. He'd turned out to be a much savvier interviewer than she ever would have guessed, steering the conversation in a way that would not only give her the best publicity, but would also spin things in her favor.

  That wasn't to say she trusted him, but she had come away from the encounter hating him a little less.

  Facing him one on one like that had felt like a personal triumph for her, as well. She hoped she could use a little of the courage it gave her to handle the meeting with Dad that lay ahead.

  The bell rang on the back door and after a moment Trey came through the beaded curtain. "Ready for tomorrow?"

  She gave him a wry smile. "No. But I'm going through with it anyway."

  "Everyone seems on board with what's coming." He came around the counter and laid his arm across her shoulders. "I think there's going to be about twenty garage sales in the empty lot by the bank, and twice that many booths up and down Center Street."

  She was glad for her friends, but worry over her own future dimmed her happiness. "When the story hits, Dad will send for me. Will you be there when I see him?" she asked, quietly.

  His arm tightened, pulling her closer against him. "Your father has no reason to include me."

  She looked up at him and her gaze moved across the flow of his profile. She remembered how the classic lines and square-cut jaw had been a source of annoyance when he first came into her life. Now they seemed almost precious to her.

  Deep down she believed he was a good man. He must have equally good reasons for needing her to go back. If she knew what they were, she could fac
e what was ahead for her.

  Stepping fully into his arms, Dakota lifted her chin to meet his gaze. "When Dad told you to find me, what did he promise you?"

  His chest expanded against her as he pulled in a deep breath. Regret and sorrow played over his face, settling in his eyes like the burdens of a thousand life times. "Years ago, I was able to find my mother. At least where she was buried. But never my sister. She'd been adopted and her records were sealed."

  The weight of his pain etched a deep V between his brows. "He can get Rosie's file opened."

  She knew how it hurt to wish for a family and be denied. Grief for Trey resonated through her. Bargains hadn't been necessary between them. She would have helped him because it was the right thing to do. Because she understood.

  Even though going back to her father's fortress-like mansion scared her more than anything she'd ever faced. "What if he won't let me go, again?" she said, needing to voice her unease, hoping that somehow that would take the power from it.

  "He can't keep you against your will. You're an adult. There are laws against that sort of thing."

  She told herself Trey was right, but anxiety settled over her.

  He drew a lock of her hair gently through his fingers. "Are you thinking of backing out of our bargain?"

  Dakota laid her cheek against his chest wanting very much to believe she were safe. His heart thumped steadily under her ear, strong and sure. "I won't back out. This is your best chance at finding your sister."

  "I've waited a long time." The hope in his voice touched her heart, strengthening her courage. She could never take that away from him.

  Moving back a bit, Dakota kissed his lips lightly, savoring how even such a small gesture aroused her.

  His hands swept down her back to cup her bottom and his eyes darkened. "Let's go home."

  Home.

  But for how long?

  * * *

  As Dakota drove toward her apartment, Trey following behind in his Jag, the deeper fear trembling through her rose into her throat, making her breath catch.

  Tonight was her last night with Trey.

 

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