Defending the Heiress

by Susan Kearney

  “So she has a key to your home and the office?”

  Daria nodded. “We’ve known one another since college.”

  “Did Elizabeth and Fallon get along?”

  At his question, Daria spun to face him, her eyes wide in speculation. “Strange that you should ask me that.”

  “Why?”

  “Fallon liked almost everyone, but…”

  “She didn’t like Elizabeth?” he guessed.

  “No, she didn’t. But she could never tell me why—except that she claimed Elizabeth was sly.”

  “Sly?”

  “Elizabeth grew up poor. She went to school on scholarship, and she was always the outsider looking in.” Ryker knew the feeling. He could recall how painful it was to pretend he didn’t like sweets while he stood outside the local candy store waiting for his friends to buy an after-school treat. Daria continued in a sympathetic tone. “Elizabeth couldn’t afford to hang out with us at restaurants or buy the right clothes to fit in with our crowd, and she was too proud to accept loaners.”

  “You sound like you admire her.”

  “I do. Elizabeth worked harder than the rest of us because she had to. And she never complained about her circumstances.”

  “What did Harry think about her?”

  Daria shrugged. “Harry always kept his opinions to himself. He was a quiet man. Fallon talked non-stop. Probably why they got along so well.”

  “They were happy?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was fierce, protective, sad. “Fallon was quite proud of her marriage. Our parents didn’t set much of an example.”

  “How did Fallon get along with the rest of your family?”

  Daria’s hazel eyes turned defensive. “You’ve met them.”

  “And I have my opinion. I’d like yours.”

  “Why?”

  He held her gaze. “Because someone could have framed you. Probably someone you know.”

  Daria flinched as he made that statement. Clearly, she saw the logic to his words, but she didn’t want to face the fact that someone she trusted had killed her sister and brother-in-law and then framed her for the murders.

  Instead of answering his question, she walked away. “Wait here. I’ll get you a backup file.”

  Obviously, she didn’t want him in her office, or she needed a moment alone. He let her go, content to watch her silk-encased legs stroll across the room and down another hallway, knowing that she would return. He took a measure of comfort in the knowledge that she no longer seemed so uncomfortable about his presence in her home. Yet she had shut him out the moment he’d asked about her family. Although Daria and her folks weren’t close, although she seemed to both resent and love them, she nevertheless protected their secrets.

  Daria’s half scream, half gasp from the direction of the back hallway had him racing after her, not even stopping to pull out the knife hidden in the sheath at his ankle. He should have checked the apartment before he’d allowed her inside. But he hadn’t expected danger since he had no reason at all to believe anyone was after her.

  And the decor had totally thrown him off guard. A mistake. He looked inside a bedroom, at least he assumed it was a bedroom, as it had a water bed surrounded by white flowering plants. The next room possessed a spectacular stained-glass window that overlooked a rose garden.

  Where was she?

  He rounded a corner. And bumped right into her. Automatically he grabbed her waist to steady her. “What’s wrong?”

  “The tapes are gone and the hard drive’s wiped clean.”

  AFTER RECOVERING FROM the loss of her computer information, Daria made herself a cup of tea and handed Ryker a mug of coffee, more to steady her nerves and give her hands something to do than for any need of refreshment. Someone had invaded her home. Stolen her property. Her private sanctuary wasn’t the safe haven she’d believed.

  “Why didn’t the police take the backup tapes?” Ryker asked.

  “Daddy pulled some strings and the judge wouldn’t give them a search warrant.”

  Cautiously Ryker sniffed the coffee.

  Daria saw him hesitate. “It’s okay. The beans were sealed. I just opened the bag.”

  “Right.” He took a careful sip. “You want to call the cops and report a break-in?”

  “I don’t see the point. They won’t believe me. And I don’t want to give Ware an excuse to call me a liar in court. Besides, the chance of the police finding the person responsible doesn’t seem likely.”

  “Unless the thief left fingerprints. While you were making refreshments, I phoned a friend. In the morning, he’s going to deliver a kit so I can dust your office. He’ll also bring over my equipment.”

  Daria took comfort from her tea, slightly uneasy to be sitting across her kitchen table from a stranger who was moving in with her. She didn’t want to think about sharing her home with him, of the two of them spending nights together. “Is there any way to retrieve the information from my hard drive?”

  “Not if they also reformatted the drive.” Ryker leaned back in his chair, balancing on the rear legs. “However, I intend to contact your Internet service provider.”

  “What good will that do?”

  “They have copies of your e-mail.”

  She hadn’t known such a thing was possible. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all night.” Daria wasn’t good with computers. Plants were her thing. She liked digging her fingers into the dirt. She liked watering, cutting and pruning. She liked talking to her flowers, too, but made a mental note to herself not to do that with a guest in her home. “But even if you retrieve my e-mails, that won’t be enough to clear me, will it?”

  “Probably not.” Ryker got a strange look in his eyes and then he chuckled, bent and scooped Ace onto his lap. The cat must have been rubbing himself against Ryker’s ankles and now he braced his back feet on Ryker’s thighs, his front paws on his chest, and stared at him.

  “Ace isn’t accustomed to strangers. He’s curious. My other two cats are hiding. He’s the brave one.”

  Ryker let the cat sniff him, then slowly scratched behind Ace’s ear. The cat accepted the petting, then leaped onto the floor and disappeared behind the wild sarsaparilla Daria had planted in the spring.

  “Does Peter have a key?”

  “No, but if he’s been seeing Elizabeth… Surely you don’t think my brother…”

  Did he consider everyone she knew as a suspect? She supposed he did. She didn’t even know if he believed in her innocence. Like the police, he considered the life insurance policy and Fallon’s half of the business good motives. In fact, she’d give everything she had to bring back Fallon and Harry. Ryker’s suspicions made dealing with her life more difficult. Especially when she was going to have to adopt his attitude. Damn it. She didn’t like being suspicious of the people she trusted most. “Why do you ask?”

  “I’m just getting a feel for your situation. What about your parents?”

  “They don’t have a key, but…”

  “But what?”

  “Fallon had one. And I’m not sure what happened to her personal effects. The police took her purse. My key is on her ring.” Daria shuddered. “Whoever stole my computer out of the police evidence room could have a key to my apartment.”

  “We’ll have the locks changed first thing tomorrow.” Ryker frowned. “I’m surprised you don’t have a security system, but then I suppose you don’t have much to steal.”

  “You suppose right. Although some of these plants are extremely rare and expensive, they can’t exactly be fenced at a pawnshop.”

  Daria realized that Ryker had been talking to her in a soothing voice. Obviously, he understood that having him stay in her apartment unnerved her. She wasn’t accustomed to sharing her space. Especially not with a stranger.

  Her face must have shown some of her thoughts because once again he tried to reassure her. “Relax. I won’t attack you—”

  “I didn’t think you would.”

  “—howeve
r much I might like to.” He grinned, that dashing grin that made her oh, so uncomfortable.

  “I’m not in a joking mood.”

  “I wasn’t joking.” His eyes drilled her with intensity. “I find you attractive. And I’ve thought about kissing you from the moment you walked into my office.”

  So much for his reassuring and soothing her frazzled nerves. His direct approach caused her pulse to leap and a heat to kindle in her blood. “I’m not interested.”

  He chuckled, a sound rich, warm and almost tender. “You’re entitled to your opinion. But there’s an easy way to allay your anxiety.”

  “Is that so?” She didn’t like him reading her so easily. Standing, she crossed her arms under her breasts and tried to stare him down. But as he rose to his feet, her gaze got caught in his magnetism, which was as dazzling as scarlet roses.

  His grin challenged her. “You could just admit I’m irresistible. Kiss me and get it over with.”

  Chapter Four

  “I hired you to find my sister’s killer.” Daria’s words were meant to put Ryker in his place, to remind him that she was the employer and he the employee. If he thought she would fall for his charm on a dare, he’d learn better.

  Daria had enough confidence in herself to recognize his challenge for what it was—a juvenile attempt to provoke her into doing something she didn’t wish to do. She didn’t need to prove anything to him, or to herself for that matter.

  She had no intention of kissing him. She had no intention of starting any kind of relationship with a man who lived with electronic equipment for companionship. He’d had no pets in that dusty place he’d called home, not even one plant. He had no pictures on the walls. Between her observations and what Harry’s attorney had told her about Ryker Stevens she’d concluded that his heart was as cold as the circuit boards he’d dumped on the floor and as empty as his bare walls.

  She had no interest—okay, almost no interest—in kissing a man who lived the way he did. However, she wouldn’t be a living, breathing female if she didn’t have a smidgen of curiosity. The man was quite the hunk. And there was much more to him than rugged good looks.

  But even if he found Fallon and Harry’s killer and she proved her innocence, she didn’t need the kind of heartache getting involved with a loner like Ryker would inevitably bring. Her attorney had warned her that Ryker was excellent at what he did, but he was also the sailor with a woman in every port. A man who would say goodbye without looking back.

  If she’d wanted a fling, Ryker might be perfect man material. With his athletic body and intelligent mind, she suspected he’d be sexy in bed and easy to talk to afterward, but she didn’t want a fling. She didn’t even want to complicate her life with a relationship right now—but if she did, she’d want a man who could do long-term.

  “Jail is no place for a woman like you,” he agreed too easily with her last statement. “You need your creature comforts. Your plants. Your pets. Pampering. I’d be more than willing to indulge you.”

  His eyes twinkled with mischief, as if he fully realized how outrageous he sounded and was waiting for her to tell him off. She didn’t like him toying with her, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of an emotional response.

  “The guest bedroom is in there. Make yourself at home.” She pointed down the hall, then walked away from him in the opposite direction. “Good night.”

  “Sweet dreams.”

  She ignored him and forced herself to maintain a normal walking pace, but she wanted to run. Especially after his words followed her to her room, lingering in her mind like a dreamy temptation.

  He wanted to indulge her? What exactly did that mean and why did just thinking about him make her think about kissing in the starlight and breakfast in bed?

  Ruthlessly, she shoved away an image of those strong hands skimming her flesh. If he wanted to indulge her then he could earn his money and figure out who’d murdered Fallon and Harry.

  Daria shut her bedroom door. None of the interior doors in her apartment had locks. She wasn’t in the habit of inviting strangers into her home. Any rare guest she invited would respect a closed door. However, Ryker didn’t resemble her other visitors.

  He was brash. Bold. Larger-than-life. He was a man accustomed to plain speech and pursuing his objectives. And yet she had the distinct impression that he was deliberately pressing her buttons, testing her, categorizing her reactions for his own reasons. He was intelligent enough to know she wasn’t interested in him, yet he had his own agenda.

  Perhaps she should fire him. However, Harry’s attorney had respected Ryker Stevens’s abilities, and her brother-in-law would have chosen his attorney carefully. Harry hadn’t been impressed easily. Oddly, she didn’t feel threatened by Ryker’s honest advances—no matter how brazen they’d been. Deep down, the feminine part of her was flattered that Ryker would even bother. She imagined he normally pursued women who weren’t quite as particular as she, women who might enjoy a one-night man.

  In theory, Daria had no problem with two adults taking pleasure in one another’s bodies, then never seeing each other again. But that kind of fling had never interested her. Perhaps preserving the propriety of the Harrington name affected her more than she would have liked. But long ago she’d ceased trying to win her father’s approval. Her choices in men were her own.

  She picked educated men, businessmen, in the hopes of someday finding a soul mate. An ex-military man like Ryker, one step up from a mercenary soldier, was outside her experience. It wasn’t that she considered him beneath her socially, he simply came from a different world. The chances of the two of them meshing in any kind of meaningful way were zilch, zero, zip.

  Still, as she finished brushing her teeth, turned out the bathroom light and then snuggled into the warmth of her water bed, she wondered if she was a snob. If Ryker had been a college professor or a stockbroker would she have encouraged his advances?

  She shivered at the memory of his tantalizing promise to “indulge her.” What exactly had he meant by that delicious-sounding statement? Ryker Stevens didn’t seem like the kind of man to make a promise without the ability to follow through. He appeared quite sure he could get copies of her e-mails from her Internet service provider. And he’d seemed just as sure that he could show her a good time.

  Fallon would have told her to take a few chances. Although her sister was no longer here, Daria knew Fallon would be shocked and pleased that she’d agreed to let a stranger spend a few nights in her home.

  Daria hoped she hadn’t made a mistake. She tossed and turned, disturbing Ace, who moved to a far corner of the bed. How could she sleep with Ryker in her home?

  Ace purred softly, then snoozed. The cat didn’t always sleep with her, but tonight he must have sensed she was a bit unnerved by the man just down the hall.

  Daria realized she’d never sleep if she kept thinking about Ryker. So instead she went over the mystery of who could have stolen her backup tapes. Everyone who worked at Harrington Bouquet’s headquarters had access to her purse and her keys. She kept her keys in her purse, which hung on a hook behind her office door during the day. If she attended a meeting in the conference room or used the rest room, she usually left her purse behind, a habit she would alter after Ryker changed her apartment’s locks tomorrow.

  Her telephone rang.

  Daria jumped. Who could be calling this late? She rolled over in bed and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Sorry to phone so late, but you didn’t answer any of my calls to the office.”

  “Mike?”

  Mike Brannigan was the chief operating officer of a company interested in acquiring Harrington Bouquet. They’d dated a few times and she’d given him her unlisted phone number. She’d stopped seeing him after she’d realized that he’d been as interested in acquiring Harrington Bouquet for his company as he had been in her. She hadn’t wanted to sell the company then, and she wasn’t interested in doing so now.

  His firm voice z
ipped through the wires with the energy she always associated with him. “I just want you to know that my offer still stands.”

  She almost told him no again, but if she and Ryker didn’t succeed, she could be facing the rest of her life in a jail cell. Perhaps she shouldn’t be too hasty in making her decision.

  “Mike, I appreciate the call. If I put the business on the market, you’ll be the first to know.”

  Daria hung up the phone, knowing Mike Brannigan needed to be added to her list of suspects. He’d had access to her purse, and he wanted Harrington Bouquet. Tomorrow, she’d have to tell Ryker about Mike. She wondered if the invasion of her privacy would ever end.

  At the soft knock on her door, she jumped again. “Yes?”

  Ryker took her response as an invitation to enter. “I heard the phone ring. Is everything okay?”

  “EVERYTHING’S FINE. Good night.”

  Daria clearly meant to dismiss him, but Ryker didn’t retreat from her bedroom. Here she had more potted plants that he didn’t recognize, delicate-leafed greenery with tiny white blooms that scented the air but didn’t overpower. The blanket on her bed looked Indian in design and the floor lamp beside her had a stem of silver and black glass that swept upward into a spiral of swirling color. Her taste was unique, eclectic and homey.

  But there was nothing homey about the lacy gold negligee that exposed her creamy shoulders and skimmed the swell of her breasts. Not only did the negligee allow her skin to play peekaboo with his fantasies, the sexy garment revealed a side of her she probably didn’t want him to see.

  “You sure you don’t need anything from me?” he teased her, hoping she would blush, but when she didn’t, he took pride in her attitude. The lady might value her privacy, but she had grit in spades.

  As if she wasn’t mostly undressed between silk sheets, her tone was prim, proper. “Look, I appreciate your concern, but if I need you, I’ll let you know.”

  “Do you always do that?”

  “What?”

  “Attack when you feel defensive?”