Winning the Heiress' Heart

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Winning the Heiress' Heart Page 10

by Susanne Bellamy


  ***

  Red lights danced behind Eva’s eyelids and she cracked one eye open. Morning sun filtered through the gap between the curtains, warm and toasty on her feet. Eva sat up suddenly and clamped a hand to her forehead. She’d fallen asleep fully dressed and slept through the night, missing the chance of talking to Seb, because he’d spent the evening with Ben.

  With a grimace, she pulled her rumpled clothes off and headed for the shower, hoping Seb hadn’t already left for Luc’s place. Dread of that conversation was partly responsible for the headache that had plagued her yesterday.

  Seb knocked on the door and called, his voice distant through the splashing water. “Evie? I’m going to Luc’s. See you tonight.”

  “Seb? Wait, I’m coming.” She turned off the shower, grabbed her bathrobe from the hook and shoved her arms into the sleeves. Rapidly tying the belt, she pulled the door open.

  “I gotta go, Evie. I’ll be in trouble if I’m late. One of Luc’s rules. Can’t it wait till tonight?”

  “You won’t be going back to Luc’s. Stefan is going to teach you all you need here on your own plantation.” Words tumbled from her mouth. If he left now, she might not find the courage to tell him later.

  Seb looked at her and frowned, his tone snarky. “Haven’t we been through this all before?”

  She’d known this would be a hard conversation but why did it have to be so difficult? The image of Luc’s piercing gaze before she’d marched away from him haunted her. She swallowed the lump in her throat and met his gaze. “He’s our neighbor. There’s no reason to fight with him. Why on earth would you think I’d have a fight with him?”

  “I think you like Luc. He sure likes you but you keep pushing him away and I’m caught in the middle.”

  Was she taking out her distrust of Luc on Seb? “This is about what’s fair and reasonable. I can’t pay Luc for your training and I can’t agree to give him a share of the plantation in exchange for his help. It will be your inheritance one day.”

  “Luc wouldn’t ask for anything like that. He’d do it for free. He’s cool.”

  If he only knew what Luc wanted but she wouldn’t destroy his illusions about his boss. Not when Luc had helped them. “While Stefan is here and we’re paying his wage, it makes sense for you to learn from him, on your own plantation.”

  “Have you told Luc yet? Can I at least ride over and tell the guys?”

  She noted the American slang filtering into his speech. Seb was transitioning to island life faster and more easily than she was, courtesy of Moe and Acky. Not that she hadn’t expected it to happen, just not so quickly. “That will be fine, but you need to be back here to work with Stefan on the eastern field in an hour. The boys will be working at Luc’s too, remember.”

  Muttering under his breath, he stalked from the house. Seconds later, the bike roared away.

  Bringing up a teenage boy on her own was challenging in ways she’d not expected. Eva sighed as feelings of inadequacy threatened to swamp her. Swallowing down her grief and self pity, she dressed in work clothes before she settled in her office to phone the outlet about a returned delivery. How could pineapples get damaged anyway? The fruit was so heavy and solid. Was it possible someone had sabotaged the process? Maybe Luc could tell her what—

  No more running to him with her problems. She’d preached self sufficiency to her nephew and she would live by her words.

  She lifted the receiver and put through her call. Two soft clicks sounded while she waited to talk pineapples with the manager. Was someone else on the party line? “Hello? Anyone there?” Receiving no response, she tapped the earpiece against her palm, heard nothing more, and tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear.

  The solicitor’s letter lay on the top of her small pile of mail. Family lawyers for several generations, Mr. Johnson, of Bates and Johnson, was about the only male she did trust right now. She slit the envelope open and took out the letter. She smoothed the letter flat with her palm and scanned the contents. Pressing her lips together, Eva swallowed. Her eyes pricked as she blinked back tears.

  Bellerose was no longer theirs.

  In addition, it seemed she and Seb could not afford to live if the plantation wasn’t a commercial success. She swiped at the moisture on her cheeks.

  Could they live off the land? Maybe she could write a cookbook in which pineapple featured as the main ingredient—breakfast, lunch and dinner dishes starring the Islands’ very own sunshine fruit. If only she had Josephine’s emerald necklace. Then I’d be the one selling off precious stones to survive.

  She tossed the solicitor’s letter on the desk and picked up a pencil, reworking sums on the back of the empty envelope until a gruff voice demanded to know what she wanted. By the time she replaced the receiver, she had arranged to meet the outlet owner and had learned enough to know what to discuss with Stefan about packing the fruit better.

  Doubt about his capability crept in. Surely an experienced manager would have known not to overfill the bins for transport? It seemed such a simple concept but she would give him a chance to explain.

  Ideas to generate more money jostled in her brain, among them a plan to turn their plantation into a tourist attraction. The outlet owner had mentioned a Tourism Board contract that she was determined to try for. Applications closed in a couple of days and she would have to work fast but the opportunity was too good to miss. Such a contract would assure a steady income and increase their chances of making a go of the place. They needed a new name, something catchy and fresh to appeal to tourists and the Board as well. Sun Pines? Sunshine Pines?

  High-pitched bursts of metal on stone led her to the shed where Stefan was sharpening knives on a whetstone wheel. Sparks flew, dropping harmlessly on the stone floor. She eyed the blades with distaste and moved further back. He switched off the wheel and tossed the blade he’d sharpened, deftly catching it. He handled the blade as though it was an extension of his left arm. Finally, his dark gaze locked on hers. Cold seeped into her bones. She swallowed the lump of fear in her throat. “It seems we have a problem with the packing of the fruit going to the outlet store. Almost a quarter of it was rejected because the boxes were overfilled. We can’t afford to have that happen again.”

  He sat back on his stool and tapped the tip of the knife against his chin, his gaze unblinking.

  She edged a step closer to the door and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You won’t let that happen again, will you?”

  Abruptly, he surged to his feet and the stool fell with a clatter. Heart hammering in her chest, she fixated on the knife in his big hands. No wonder Amoka had backed off. Why hadn’t she checked him out, even confirmed his background with Jack Lyons? Yet, Luc had met him, and said nothing.

  Slowly, Stefan sheathed the knife and folded his arms across his chest. “I try to save you money. Not so many boxes, cost less for transport. Back home in Russia, this is what we did with vegetables. Will not do it again.”

  Her bones melted as relief coursed through her body. “That was good of you to consider costs, but our reputation needs to be built on a quality product. We can’t take shortcuts in future.” She pasted on a smile and slipped out the door.

  One down, two to go. Next stop was the Tourism Board.

  Eva dressed in her best suit, smoothed her hair into a sleek chignon style, and carefully tucked a scarf around her neck. Satisfied that she looked the part of a businesswoman with a sound proposal, she drove to the Tourism Office in town.

  A friendly receptionist directed her to a waiting area filled with bright-green, potted palms. “Mister Willis won’t be long, Ma’am. He’s just with another client. Can I get you a coffee or water?”

  Eva smiled and shook her head. “Thank you, no.” She took a seat beside a corridor that led to offices behind her and waited. During the drive into town, she’d formulated a general proposal in her head but if the manager wanted to know financial position details, her chances were sunk.

  A door opened
behind her and a voice carried down the corridor. “The program you’re running puts your place in a really good light. The Board will love it, even without the other property. Your chances of scoring the contract are very good.”

  Eva sat very still and held her breath. Were the men referring to the tourist contract? Had someone beaten her to it before she even applied?

  “Thanks for that, Dan. ’Preciate the vote of confidence. My boys are shaping up fine.”

  Luc.

  She clutched her handbag and forced her tight facial muscles to shape a pleasant social smile. Determined not to let him win this time, she stood to face the two men just as they rounded the corner.

  Luc stopped mid-sentence and his eyes raked her from top to toe. “Miss Abbott. What an unexpected pleasure to see you here.”

  “Isn’t it? Please don’t let me hold you up, Mr. Martineau. I know how busy you are.” She turned and held out her hand to the older man and broadened her smile. “How do you do, Mr. Willis? I’m so glad you could make time to see me today.”

  ###

  Luc sat on the edge of the sofa in the reception area and flicked over another page in the newspaper without a clue as to what he’d read. Why was Eva meeting with Willis? Was it possible she was chasing the tourism contract, too? And what was going on with Seb? According to Moe, Seb had roared up to the shed on his bike with a thunderous expression on his face, given some garbled account of having to work with Stefan from now on, and roared away again before Luc could speak to him. Poor kid didn’t know what the hell was going on and neither did he.

  He ground his teeth and imagined taking Eva’s sweet little neck between his hands and... and what? As soon as he had her that close, he’d forget why he was angry with her and kiss her senseless. Every time he thought of her, it involved peeling her clothes off and losing himself in her silken body, tasting her from her delectable lips all the way to the sweet juncture between her thighs. Conquering the heiress and winning her into his bed was becoming an obsession.

  Luc groaned softly and edged further back in the seat to ease his burgeoning erection.

  He wasn’t a quitter. He never had been. If there was the slightest hope of winning the contract, he’d take it. Barry Willis’s throw away comment had given him an idea. His best chance now rested on collaborating with Eva.

  The receptionist glanced over at him. He nodded with a tight smile, and raised the paper between them, thankful he hadn’t picked up a magazine instead.

  Eva emerged from her meeting with Willis, a frown wrinkling her forehead and so absorbed in her thoughts she walked straight past him. Luc lowered the newspaper, tossed it aside as he stood, and walked over to take her arm. “I think it’s time you and I had a really good talk, Miss Abbott.”

  “But I don’t—”

  “Come on, I’m buying you coffee.” Maybe if he talked to her in a public place, where touching her was out of the question, they could reach a compromise about the land and move on to more pleasant pastimes. Damn pleasant. He wanted to sink into her and never surface.

  They walked into the King Kamehameha Hotel lounge and Luc ordered a pot of coffee, before he led Eva to a table by the window.

  “What do you want?”

  “Can’t neighbors have a friendly chat?”

  He glanced around to see if anyone was watching them. An older couple he recognized from the Planters’ Club turned and stared. The woman raised her eyebrows, picked up her cup, and looked away. Nobody could know about this proposition until he had it in the bag. He lowered his voice and leaned closer. “This business with Seb has got to be sorted out now.”

  Eva sat back into her chair and lifted her chin. “It’s sorted. He’s going to learn from Stefan, on the plantation that will be his own. It’s what I should have done in the first place.”

  “But you didn’t. You asked for my help.”

  She had the good grace to look abashed. “I’m very sorry for the inconvenience I’ve caused you. Thank you for what you did for Seb. I really appreciate it but he’s no longer any of your business.”

  “You gave him a taste of what it’s like to belong within a group of young men, to begin the healing process after his father’s death, and then ripped him away from his friends. Is that fair? It’s not so much an inconvenience to me but have you been fair to the boy?” He paused to watch her reaction.

  Eva twisted the strap of her handbag on her lap and would not meet his gaze. Luc waited but there was no reply forthcoming. For the boy’s sake, and for the contract, he would change her mind. He pressed on. “Did you ask him what he wanted? I know you care deeply for him and want what’s best but right now, he’s an angry young man. He doesn’t know what’s going on and frankly, neither do I.”

  “As his guardian, I have to make decisions about what’s in his best interests. I happen to think learning from Stefan on my estate is in his best interest.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Her eyes widened. She opened her mouth and drew an audible breath then closed it without speaking.

  “You’re letting what’s between you and me affect your thinking. Seb’s happy and committed to learning with me. You know he needs the company of young men his own age. Don’t take that away from him.”

  Her expression ran through the gamut of bewilderment, annoyance and finally determination. Fascinated, Luc watched a soft blush color her cheeks.

  “There is nothing between us.” Her voice was cold.

  She was so wrong. Thoughts of Eva gave him a hard-on more often than he cared to acknowledge. And he knew she couldn’t control her physical response to him any more than he could. Her blushes, the way she met his kisses gave her away. He smiled and leaned close, and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Liar.”

  She sat ramrod straight and blinked several times. “Despite what you think you know about me, we do not have a relationship.”

  “Then why did you kiss me?”

  “You kissed me. I’ve never kissed you.” She glared at him and wriggled in her seat. Luc swallowed a grin. Was she getting turned on by their spat as much as he was?

  “I never. Oh!” Her hand shot up to cover her mouth and her eyes widened. “That’s so ungentlemanly.”

  “I never claimed to be a gentleman. And for all your refined English ways, if you’re honest, you prefer me when I’m not.”

  Her chest rose with indignation and he rather enjoyed the view.

  “Why you arrogant—”

  Luc covered her hand and circled her wrist with his fingers. “Why does your pulse race when I touch you?” Slowly, he rubbed his thumb across her knuckles.

  “You’ve tried every which way to get hold of my plantation and you don’t like not getting your way. Is it the fact I’m a woman who won’t give in to you the most galling aspect? Or is it that I make you—” She cut off the rest of the sentence and picked up her cup.

  He leaned closer until Eva’s breath brushed across his cheek and her perfume wrapped around him. His gaze flickered lower. Her pulse beat rapidly in the hollow of her throat and her breasts rose and fell. “Make me do what? What do you want to do to me? I know what I want to do with you.”

  “I want to make you acknowledge that I can run my plantation as well as you run yours. And after that—”

  “After that, we can have a relationship? Why wait? If we work together, we’d be a certainty to win that contract. Combine our resources, my expertise, your presentation... Seb told me about the tours you ran at Bellerose.”

  “If I can’t do it on my own, I don’t deserve to win. I have to try.”

  “You’re not going to win that contract alone, you know. They want local experience to back up the winning application.”

  Gracefully she rose to her feet. “Don’t be too sure. The Board will be meeting to consider my proposal soon.” She turned on her heel and walked away, stilettos tap-tapping across the marble floor, hips swaying in fascinating rhythm as she retreated, head high.

  He eased back in his
seat and crossed his legs, sipped his coffee and watched her over the top of the cup. Damn the plantation, damn the contract, and damn this attraction. He wanted Eva—badly. But if it was a fight she wanted, he was the man to give it to her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Eva gripped the newspaper and stared in disbelief. How had she and Luc made the gossip section? Below a long-distance photo of Luc and her apparently holding hands and leaning close, the words taunted her. Local estate owners, Lucien Martineau and English heiress, Miss Evangeline Abbott in the King Kamehameha Hotel lobby yesterday. Are two of our big plantation owners considering a merger?

  She dropped the paper on the kitchen table and pressed her hands to her temples. Was this Luc’s doing? Somehow, it didn’t ring true. From the first day, he’d helped her. She understood his desire for her land, even while she fought him. Land meant security and more, like Luc’s program that gave so much to the community.

  Merging their skills and combining their two plantations made sense. But giving up control as he’d suggested? It felt like giving in to her desire for Luc, a weakness she couldn’t contemplate. Not after Timothy.

  But how had word of their discussion got out? Who would benefit by leaking it to the press? She nibbled her thumbnail and read the caption again.

  Seb entered the kitchen without a word and avoided meeting her eyes. He reached across and grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl. As he turned to leave his hip caught the newspaper and his hand shot out to stop it falling off the table. He paused and went still.

  Eva followed his glance down to the gossip page. She reached for his arm but he shook her off. “It’s not what it looks like, Seb.”

  “You told me I couldn’t work with Luc and the boys then you run off and meet him on the quiet.” He stared at her, accusation in his eyes before he raced down the hall. The front door crashed shut behind him. Moments later, his bike engine roared as he gunned it down the driveway.

  She’d done it again. How did she keep making such a mess when all she wanted was what was best for Seb?

 

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