Winning the Heiress' Heart

by Susanne Bellamy

  “Funny, you seemed disinclined to talk this morning when we had plenty of time.”

  He moved a couple of steps closer and his hand clenched on the straps of his pack, the knuckles whitening. “There were too many ears listening.”

  Perhaps he was right about the flight home. If the covert speculation of the rescue crew was anything to judge by, his behavior toward her had probably allayed some suspicion about their night together. But this morning at the lagoon he’d been so distant, like he’d got what he wanted. It would have been insulting if she hadn’t felt so foolish about her participation in last night’s amorous adventure.

  She tilted her head a little higher. “There was plenty of opportunity before we were rescued. No matter. I’m sure the authorities will sort out the incident.” She took Seb’s arm and turned to the exit.

  “You’ll have to provide a statement. They’ll need to know what’s happened on your plantation. Any of it could be relevant to the—incident.”

  “I’ll phone them tomorrow and make an appointment but I’m leaving now. As you can see, Seb is here to take me home. Thanks for the flight. It was an education.” Straight back and head high, she headed out the door, praying Seb wouldn’t linger and Luc wouldn’t follow.

  Time apart was necessary if she was to sift through the confusion of feelings whirling in her brain. She climbed in the car and slumped in her seat.

  Seb put her bag in the trunk then slid behind the wheel. “Okay, Evie, spill the beans. What incident? What happened out there? Do I need to knock his block off?”

  “What? Oh, no, Seb, nothing like that.” She made a fuss of searching for a handkerchief in her handbag.

  “Why did you stay overnight with him? Because it’s a damn poor show on his part if the helicopter didn’t break down.”

  “It did. At least—” Ignorance could be dangerous. At least if he knew what had happened, he could take precautions. “The oil line was deliberately cut. We weren’t meant to make it back last night.”

  His jaw dropped. “Who’d do a thing like that?”

  “I think why is the more important question. Let’s get home so I can shower and then we’ll put our heads together and see if we can’t come up with an answer.”

  But by evening they were none the wiser. Seb lounged in one of the Adirondack chairs on the front verandah. “It makes no sense. You and Luc could have been killed. Who would gain by that?”

  She yawned. Too little sleep and too much adrenaline over the past twenty-four hours and she was limp as a dishrag. “Frankly, at this moment I’m too tired to care. What did you do last night?”

  He looked shamefaced and didn’t answer immediately. “It took a while before we realized you and Luc hadn’t come back. I thought you might have stopped off in town for dinner.”

  “We? Were you over with the boys at Luc’s?”

  “Don’t be cross. We had a poker game going. Not for money,” he hurriedly added.

  She suppressed her grin, pleased that he was demonstrating more maturity and consideration. “So when did you decide to be worried by our non-return?”

  “Heck, it wasn’t that late. Ten thirty, eleven, maybe. I got home and Stefan was up at the house waiting for me. Said he’d called the airport when you didn’t show up after dinner and heard your chopper hadn’t come back.”

  “Wait a minute, Stefan was in the house, alone, late at night?”

  “No, he was sitting on the verandah with a beer.”

  “I wonder— Stefan went into town early yesterday, didn’t he?” The knife, the timing… A sick sensation welled in her throat. Could it have been him? But what motive would he have?

  “Yeah, he went in with the first pick up of the day. Why?”

  “I don’t know, it’s just a feeling. Look, I need to do a little work before I go to bed so I’ll say goodnight.”

  Intelligent eyes, Phillip’s eyes, pinned her, probing, prodding. “You just said you were too tired to think and now you want to do office work? Tell me why you wanted to know about Stefan.” She couldn’t afford to dismiss him as too young or underestimate him any longer.

  “I’m trying to cover all bases. Look, I’m probably overtired and paranoid about the situation. Ignore me.”

  “Good evening, boss.”

  She jumped and put her hand over her mouth. Her manager’s soft approach had caught her by surprise. “Stefan. You startled me.”

  “I just want to see all is good with you tonight. You okay?”

  Her heart thumped and her brain was fit to explode with wild theories that she thought he’d tried to kill her, all because she’d watched him sharpen knives, which he needed to slice through pineapples. Add that to her belief Amoka had broken into her home, her concerns over the nosy journalist, and suspicions about Luc trying to seduce her to gain her plantation, and she had a grand set of worries to be going on with. If she thought much more about the string of accidents, soon she’d be able to add in Jack, the realtor, and maybe the distributor at the factory as suspects.

  She was becoming paranoid.

  Other than that, she was splendid. “I’m fine, thank you for your concern, Stefan, although it appears our helicopter was sabotaged. Someone seems to want me dead.”

  She observed him closely. His eyes widened and he shook his head in disbelief. If he was involved, he was a good actor. Or a cold-blooded killer? There was simply nothing to connect him and yet her brain stumbled and refused to let go of him as one of her suspects.

  “Is not good but you here now. I patrol outside before I go to bed. Sleep well, boss. Oh, I borrow book from library last night. Was waiting long time for young boss to come home. You not mind?”

  Stefan had been in the library and may well have gone into her office. Had he rifled through her papers? Or was she seeing conspiracies everywhere? Stefan—Ivan—Russian. She’d hidden the diary where no one would ever find it but tomorrow, she’d see about installing a safe.

  “That’s fine, Stefan. You’re welcome to borrow books. Good night.”

  Stefan wandered off, soft-footed and quickly lost to view. Eva collected their empty glasses and headed to the kitchen.

  Seb trailed behind. “That was weird.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Last night when I got home and met him on the verandah, he didn’t have a book with him.”

  And that was more disconcerting than everything else.

  ***

  Eva hung up the phone. Mr. Willis had been more than willing to help her with her submission to the Tourism Board. Indeed, he’d been very forthcoming with information and it seemed he was on her side. Why else would he have ensured her application was couriered over to the committee meeting while she was neatly out of the way and unable to present it herself?

  And if Luc was the only other major player likely to win the contract, was it possible he’d manufactured the sabotage of their helicopter in a bid to undermine her application? No wonder if he wanted to add their place to his. It was bigger and, with both plantations joined, he’d have been a shoe-in to win.

  Unable to settle after the encounter with Stefan, she and Seb had talked long into the night about their prospects of winning the lucrative contract. Their bigger plantation versus Luc’s highly efficient and well managed property.

  Luc’s knowledge combined with her communication skills, they’d be unbeatable. She froze, her subconscious mind screaming denial. Where had that come from? Unequivocally, it was definitely never ever going to happen. Not in a million years.

  As though her brain had conjured him, he drove up the driveway and pulled up at the bottom of the steps. He strode around the Jeep, bounded up the stairs, and stood in front of her. Crinkles radiated from the corners of his eyes and shadows underlined them. He looked as though he’d slept about as well as she had, and yet he still looked good enough to eat.

  “Handsome as sin and a devil to boot.” The description slipped out before her tired brain could self censor.

&n
bsp; He removed his hat and twisted it round and round. “Devil might be a bit strong although I’m not denying I’ve done wrong by you. I’m here to fix that now.”

  “What wrong have you done me?”

  “At the lagoon. It shouldn’t have happened.”

  Was he apologizing for keeping her overnight to tip the tourism contract in his favor? Had the sabotage been no more than an elaborate pretence to keep her from submitting her proposal to the board or an attempt to seduce her into agreeing to a partnership with him? It made no more sense than her suspicions about Stefan yet without Mr. Willis’s generous action, she would have missed out on the opportunity to submit her proposal.

  “No. It shouldn’t have. There’s no point to talking about it.”

  His gaze turned bleak, as if he was capable of feeling hurt by her words. “Fine. You don’t want to talk. I get that.”

  His gaze slid away. Was he feeling guilty for his stunt? It wasn’t like they’d been in danger if Luc had nicked the line and yet the action didn’t fit the image of the man she’d come to know. “Let’s forget it. There are other—”

  “So we’ll find other ways of communicating. That will make for interesting evenings after we’re married.”

  “Frankly, what you did at the lagoon was—what? What did you say?”

  “Well, if you don’t want to talk I know lots of mighty fine ways to pass the time.”

  “You’re mad.” Or she was. Had he really just proposed?

  “I’m serious. I don’t give a damn whether you want to talk or not but the fact remains, I did the wrong thing by you and I want to fix it. You could be carrying my baby.”

  “I—we used protection—Oh, my God, that last time—” Her hands flew to her belly. A baby. Was she even now carrying his child?

  Why hadn’t she thought of the possibility before? Was social ostracism as bad here as in England? With no named father and an unwed mother, what chance would the poor child have? Who was she kidding? Everyone would know Luc was the father.

  “I never meant for it to happen like that. But when I’m with you, inside you—”

  Hunger filled her. Deep, desperate desire for the night at the lagoon to be the truth. Their joining had been beautiful, like she’d found her missing half and she was made beautiful and completed by him. She held up a hand to stop him. “Don’t, please. Spare me the romantic nonsense. It happened and the only question now is what’s to be done. I may not be…pregnant…and then there’s no problem.”

  And if she was, what then? How could she stay and care for Seb?

  “Marry me. Then if we have a baby, there won’t be any raised eyebrows. I can protect you.”

  Her entire body froze in shock. “Your choice of protection leaves something to be desired.” Bitterness tinged her tone and he winced.

  “I let passion override reason but I won’t let my mistake blight your life. Look, I know this isn’t the way you should receive a proposal but I want to make things right for you.” Somehow he had maneuvered her back to a chair. He took both her hands in his and sat her down. She sat willingly, unreality having unbalanced her usually even keel.

  Luc went down on one knee. “Eva, marry me?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Eva stood at the back of the Planters’ Club and tapped her foot in time with the music. The local jazz band was good and the current song, Perfidia, suited her mood as she watched the swirl of passing dancers. Subconsciously, she rubbed the single emerald of her necklace between her fingers. Every introduction this evening had been accompanied by covert or less subtle glances at the stone and she could almost hear their thoughts—heiress—as she smiled and exchanged pleasantries.

  She finished her soda and scanned the crowded floor. Designer dresses sparkled among a sea of black and white dinner jackets. Not one of the men looked as good as Luc, in or out of his tuxedo. Which thought was of little consequence. She spotted him, hand in pocket and deep in conversation with an older gentleman at the bar. Handsome as sin she’d thought him. But his good looks and dancing skills were irrelevant. They were here for one purpose only. If she was pregnant, their little charade would set up their relationship in the eyes of the local community and give their quick marriage credibility.

  Marriage. To Luc.

  Scarcely able to believe she’d agreed to his proposal, she dreaded hearing it made public. He’d wanted to announce it this evening but she’d put her foot down. “It would be as good as saying we did the deed while we were stranded. Please say nothing.”

  Reluctantly he’d agreed but even one-eyed Freddie could read his silent statement. He and Eva Abbott were an item. Would-be dance partners were deterred by his hand on her back, by the possessive tone when he introduced her. By the way he invaded her personal space and she said nothing. By now, there could be little doubt in anyone’s mind.

  But if she wasn’t pregnant—

  She simply didn’t know what she wanted where Luc Martineau was concerned. Other than this burning desire for things to be different. To be real.

  A ripple of awareness ran through the crowd and heads turned, drawing her distracted attention to a stunning couple near the bar. Luc seemed to be wearing a gorgeous brunette in a white sheath dress shimmering with white sequins. Olive-skinned—an almost indecent amount of bare back was revealed between glittering spaghetti straps—the brunette had her arms draped around Luc’s neck. And Luc’s hands were on her waist.

  The desire to scratch out the eyes of the woman plastered to Luc’s chest was sharp and unexpected. To pluck her red-painted talons from his neck and step in between them while casually demanding she unhand her fiancé.

  Good grief, she would sound like a jealous lover.

  Heat and the press of many bodies in close confinement became claustrophobic as she battled the crazy green-eyed monster leering at her. If Luc meant nothing to her, why was she jealous?

  Several heads turned in her direction and she caught a name—Genevieve Benson—murmured over and over.

  Eva licked her lips and set her empty glass on a nearby table. Her head ached from two glasses of champagne and a sudden need for solitude. Tired of waiting for Luc to return and tired of pretending to enjoy herself while the woman who’d dumped him made like a rash, she straightened her spine and glided from the room. He could come looking for her. Or not. She’d show him she couldn’t care less what he did.

  She slipped through the throng on the verandah. People congregated in small groups and couples, but at least out here the breeze was pleasant and the lights low. She nodded to a few acquaintances but kept moving until she reached the quietest, darkest spot. Tucked behind a huge potted palm, she leaned on the railing, lifted the weight of hair off her neck, and breathed deeply.

  Cigar smoke drifted on the night air, Cuban and expensive. It was followed by men’s voices.

  “Looks like the Tourism Board is going to overlook Martineau in favour of that little redhead who bought Benson’s place. Bigger spread, more potential, especially with a looker like her as a draw card. Imagine coming home to her every evening.”

  She froze. They were talking about her. Luc and her and the contract.

  “With Benson on the Board, would you expect a different outcome? It wouldn’t have mattered if the only other contender was Mickey Mouse. Benson would never let a Martineau succeed after Gloria married Henri instead of him.”

  “He’s still pissed that Martineau proposed to his daughter.”

  “Not to worry. Martineau will get hold of it one way or another. D’ya see he’s brought the redhead tonight. Won’t let anyone else near her. Bet he’s already staked his claim, if you know what I mean.”

  The other man sniggered. “Wouldn’t mind tumbling her myself.”

  “You wouldn’t have a hope. Martineau can’t keep his eyes off her.”

  “Or his hands. You know what the emergency was? He wanted to get—” The men moved back around the corner and their voices were lost in the general hubbub.

/>   Her stomach heaved. She’d seen the dirty winks and heard the sly nudges in the men’s tones. If these men were talking about her like that now, how much worse would it be if she bore Luc’s child out of wedlock? If only she knew if she was pregnant. She breathed through her mouth and swallowed. She absolutely could not, would not be sick here.

  Luc would do anything to get his hands on Benson’s property. Wasn’t that what Jack had told her?

  Did that include deliberately making her pregnant so they would have to marry? Did he believe he could get his hands on her property that way?

  Her stomach churned as pieces fell into place. Would Luc really stoop so low? Had she given him a way to steal her land by falling for his charms, his sympathy? She slapped her hands over her mouth to quell the rising nausea and her fears.

  ###

  Luc returned to the spot where he’d last seen Eva. He hadn’t intended to get caught up in a discussion on the state of the export market but without being rude, he’d had to stay when old Heck badgered him for his opinion. Several men had been eying Eva all evening and chances were one of them had convinced her to take to the floor. He scanned the dancers but her distinctive auburn curls tumbling down her back and her delicious curves were missing in action. Was it possible she’d seen Genevieve throw herself into his arms like long-lost family and misinterpreted the scene? No, Eva would have to care about him to be jealous.

  He’d stayed firmly by her side and for most of the evening they’d circulated and chatted with other planters. Lord knew he was having enough trouble controlling his desire for her without holding her close in front of so many witnesses. One duty dance with Eva had nearly killed him while Genevieve had pinned her body to his and he’d felt nothing. Not true. He was annoyed.

  Mitzy Stark appeared in front of him and tapped his arm with her fan. “Hi, hon, misplaced that gorgeous girl you came in with?”

  “Yes, have you seen Eva?”

  “Sure did. She was on her way out to the car park. Looked a little peaky if you ask me. Anything I can do?”