Hard to Resist: A Collection of Hard to Resist Romances

by Landish, Lauren

  “All right, let’s go through this as quickly as possible, shall we?” Allen raises his bushy white eyebrows and gives Elizabeth a pointed look.

  She squeezes his hand once and sits back, taking a deep breath. She lets go of his hand and lets hers fall to her lap. My eyes catch the movement and my fingers itch to reach out and take her hand in mine, but I don’t. I clasp my hands together and wait for the lawyer to get this shit over with. Whatever the old man left me, I’ll be more than happy to keep as a reminder of him.

  Maybe it’s an old watch or a trinket, I don’t know. Whatever it is, I’ll pocket it and move on. Knowing him, it could be his favorite DVD. I huff a small laugh thinking about it. It puts a smile on my face, but then I remember where I am and I feel like an asshole. Neither of them seem to notice though.

  “Let’s begin. Richard Francis Turner’s Last Will and Testament.” The lawyer shakes out the pages and starts reading down the lines, completely oblivious to the fact that Elizabeth is stiff at his words. She’s not crying or breaking down like she was at the funeral, but I know hearing those words shook her up. She’s not alright.

  Allen’s words turn to white noise as I watch her clutching her necklace and staring straight ahead with a grim look on her face.

  If Richard could see her right now it would fucking kill him.

  I usually don’t think twice about other people’s pain. That’s life. But watching her trying to hold herself together is breaking something inside of me.

  Suddenly, her composure changes into confusion and then anxiety.

  I look back to the lawyer, trying to pay attention to whatever he just said.

  “Hmm.” Allen looks lost as he goes through the pages. He flips through them and repeats back what he just said. “It all goes to Mr. Axton.”

  My forehead pinches as I take in what he’s saying. That can’t be true.

  “All?” All of what?

  “Everything Richard owned or is in his name, with the exception to the family home, 20 Wyoming and its contents, is to be given freely to Mr. Liam Axton. This includes all other properties, and financial investments, and all the remaining balances in all of his bank accounts. The house, 20 Wyoming, and its contents is to be given to his only surviving heir, Elizabeth Turner.” My body goes cold as he says the words and then looks back up at me, waiting for a response.

  “What? No!” Elizabeth grips the chair with both her hands before standing up so fast she nearly sends it flying backward. The chair rocks on its back legs before gently settling.

  “That can't be right!” She shakes her head. “Daddy wouldn’t leave me with nothing.”

  “I’m sorry, Lizzie,” Allen says, looking back down at the papers in his hand and gripping them harder, wrinkling the pages. He looks back through them as though he read them wrong. “The deed and title for your family home have been put in your name, but all other belongings have been left to Mr. Axton.”

  So all he left her was his house, the one right next to the one he gave me, but nothing else. What the fuck?

  I remain still, and I struggle to accept this is even real. It must be a mistake. She’s right, there’s no way he wouldn’t have left everything to her. He loved her. He wouldn’t have done that to her.

  “This man didn’t even know my father!” Elizabeth points her finger at me for emphasis and chokes on her words as tears prick her eyes.

  I reach up for her hand to calm her down and try to explain as I stand, but she rips it away from me. Her wide eyes look at me with worry, and I put both my hands up in surrender.

  Her breathing is coming in frantic pants; she looks like she’s on the edge of having a panic attack.

  I sit back down, not knowing what to do. I don't want to make her angry, but she sure as shit doesn't want me to comfort her right now.

  “I’m sure there’s been a mistake,” I say evenly and calmly. She looks like a wounded animal. My heart hurts for her, so I let the offense slide. She’s just hurting, I have to remind myself.

  “Yes,” she says in a high-pitched voice as tears roll down her face. “There’s a mistake.”

  “There is no mistake; it's all been left to Mr. Axton.”

  The room is quiet for a moment. Why the hell would Richard do that? I open my mouth to let them know I’ll give it all to her. I don’t need his money. I hadn't expected this either. I wanted to give the house back to her, too. But before I can say anything, Elizabeth turns all her anger on me.

  “Who the hell were you to him? What’d you do, threaten him?” she says accusingly. That really fucking pisses me off. I'm ready to beat that ass of hers for talking to me like that.

  “Whoa! Whoa!” I don’t like that she thinks so little of me.

  He told me not to tell her everything that happened. He doesn’t want her to know about the shit he did when his insurance wouldn’t pay up for his treatments. Richard confided in me. He put the house in my name without me knowing. He did this bullshit with the will without telling me. And on his deathbed he made me promise not to tell her that he kept all this from her.

  I don’t know what he was thinking, but if he wanted his only daughter to fucking hate me, then mission accomplished.

  “I don’t want it,” I say simply, ignoring her eyes boring into my head with hate.

  My heart twists with pain. I don’t want her to hate me. What the fuck was Richard up to, doing this shit? “There’s obviously a mistake.”

  “Obviously.” Elizabeth sits back down and leans forward, looking back to Allen. “If… Mr. Axton,” the way she says my name makes me cringe, “doesn’t want the inheritance, then everything’s fine, right?”

  “Well, there are some legal issues we can work out.” Allen has a tense expression on his face as he looks between the two of us.

  “Good, because that’s obviously a mistake.” Her voice hardens as more tears fall down her cheeks. “He didn’t know shit about daddy.”

  That’s it. Something inside of me snaps. I was planning on just letting this all go, but the way she’s looking at me with pure hate is just not gonna work for me.

  I want comfort, too. I want her to give me a god damned chance.

  “I want a date,” I say, and both sets of eyes whip over to me.

  “Fuck you!” Elizabeth sneers. “I’m not for sale, asshole.”

  That mouth of hers is pissing me off.

  I gotta get up before I do something stupid.

  She's making me wanna pin her ass against the desk and settle her down the best way I know how.

  Without another word, I walk out of the office in a mix of rage and sadness. I storm out, ignoring her screaming at me, and Allen trying to calm her down. I walk straight out to my car to get the fuck out of there. I'm mostly just confused though by the time I swing my car door open and settle down in the seat.

  I grip the leather steering wheel and twist my hands. My heart's racing, and I just want it all to stop. I hate this pain in my chest that just won't let up.

  What the fuck was Richard doing giving it all to me?

  I told him he didn’t owe me. I didn’t help him out for the money. It wasn’t about that. At least to me it wasn’t. I hate to think he even thought that about me.

  And now his baby girl fucking hates me.

  I clench my jaw and start up my car.

  I’m not letting this go. She needs that money. I know she does.

  She’s gonna have to sit down with me and show me that sweet side I know she has if she wants it. I don’t care if that makes me a dick. She brought this shit on herself.

  Chapter 4

  Lizzie

  “There must be something wrong,” I insist, holding back an ocean of tears after the handsome bastard storms off. “This can’t be right.” I don't care if I pissed him off, but even as I think it, my heart sinks. I don't want to piss anyone off. I'm just so damn tired of crying and being in pain. And then this? I don't understand it. Why would daddy do that?

  Allen looks at me from
under his bushy white eyebrows and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Miss Turner, but the will is right here, clearly in your stepfather’s handwriting.” Allen slides the crumpled papers across the desk. “See for yourself.”

  I snatch it up, causing Allen to mutter an ominous warning, “Careful with that. If you damage the will, Liam can hold you accountable.”

  Fuck Liam.

  Ignoring the old fossil, I scan the document. Sure enough, it’s daddy’s handwriting. I'd know his distinctive scrawl anywhere. My heart starts pounding like a sledgehammer, and my head spins. My breathing becomes ragged and I feel like I'm going to faint.

  How could he? I wail within the depths of my mind. How could he do this to me?!

  I can’t believe it. This can’t be true. I want to pinch myself, make sure I’m not stuck in a nightmare.

  A total stranger! He left everything to a total stranger!

  I can’t figure out why on earth he would do this. He knew that I'd taken on massive debt. Debt he had promised to pay so I could live a better life. Then he goes and dies and leaves everything to some random cocky bastard with no relation to him?

  What. The. Fuck.

  I'm hurt. And beyond fucking mad. To say that I feel betrayed doesn’t even begin to express how I feel. My body heats with anxiety, and I don't know what to think about anything.

  “He can’t do this,” I find myself protesting. I want that smug bastard to come back here so I can claw at his arrogant mug. “He can’t withhold my inheritance like this!”

  Allen reaches across the desk and gently pulls the will from my hands. I instantly regret not ripping it up in his face. Who gives a fuck if Liam takes action against me? The bastard doesn’t deserve anything. He didn’t even know my father. “I’m sorry to tell you this Miss Turner, but he most certainly can. Liam Axton is the sole heir to your stepfather’s estate and he isn’t legally obligated to share anything with you, even considering your close relationship with Richard.”

  I stare at Allen’s lined face for a long moment, feeling sick to my stomach. My mind races, searching for a reason why my father would do this to me. What could I have done to deserve such a terrible punishment?

  Be a shitty daughter. Every inch of my skin pricks with a chill at the thought. Was I really? I loved him. I should have told him more often. No, I should have showed him. I loved him so damn much. How could he not know that? He was my world.

  After all, where was I when my daddy was dying? At school, too busy with my studies to care about keeping in frequent touch with the man who had loved me as if I was his own biological daughter. A man who had died heartbroken and alone, without me to care for him.

  Maybe I do deserve this.

  I can’t take it anymore. I burst into tears, my shoulders shuddering violently from powerful sobs.

  I’m so sorry, daddy, I cry inwardly. Had I known you were sick, I would never have gone so far away for school. Never! I would’ve stayed at home and taken care of you. Really, I would. You must believe me!

  I rock back and forth in my seat, the pain crushing my heart. “I wish I had known,” I cry, tears pouring from my eyes. “I wish I could take it all back!”

  Allen must think I’m going mad with grief, but he gets up from his seat and comes around to my side. “There, there, child,” he coos, patting me awkwardly on the head. “Everything will turn out alright.”

  I continue to sob and Allen is forced to wrap his frail arms around me, letting me cry on his shoulder.

  After what seems like an eternity, I sob my last sob and I’m able to pull away. My cheeks burn with embarrassment when I see Allen’s expensive dress shirt is soaking wet from my slobber and tears.

  “I’m sorry I got my snot all over you,” I sniff, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. I'm such a pathetic mess. But I don't care.

  Allen brushes away my worry with a dry chuckle. “You’d be surprised. You’re not the first person to break down in my office after a will reading, and you most certainly won’t be the last.” He reaches across his desk and grabs a couple of tissues and then hands the bunch to me. “In fact, I’m just happy there wasn't any violence between the two of you,” he says, as I take the tissues and blow my nose. “I’ve had to replace my desk at least ten times.”

  I look at him through bloodshot eyes. “Seriously?” I say and sniffle.

  Allen nods. “Usually will readings deteriorate quickly when certain family members find out they’ve been left out of the will. I’ve actually had all-out brawls take place in my office.”

  I shake my head before blowing my nose again. “That’s crazy.”

  Allen makes it back behind his desk and I feel a twinge of guilt. The poor old man is going to have to smell my slobber all the way home. “Indeed. I find that a death in the family always brings out the worst in people if they think they can end up with something of value.”

  “Isn’t that the truth,” I mutter, sitting there feeling numb. I really don’t know what to do. I’m heartbroken I’ve been left with nothing. Something occurs to me. “Do you know if my stepfather knew Liam at all, like really knew him?”

  Allen shakes his head. “Sorry, I do not.”

  I frown. It all seems so strange to me. Why would daddy hand over his will to someone he hardly knew? Unless… he really knew him?

  He couldn’t have known him, I think to myself. I never saw this guy while growing up. He has to be some last minute actor that showed up when daddy grew vulnerable.

  Maybe that was it. Maybe daddy had come down with a sudden onset of dementia, forgotten who I was. Then this Liam character had taken advantage of him. The idea makes my chest burn with anger, though it seems an unlikely scenario. Still, it makes me feel uncomfortable even thinking about it.

  I shake my head. It’s impossible. I talked to daddy fairly often. That’s not it. I feel ashamed for even thinking it. But then again, he never mentioned Liam. Who the hell is this guy?

  I’m full of confusion and grief, and thoughts of Liam are doing things to my body I’d rather not admit to. A date. Did he really say that? I take in a short breath, thinking about doing it. It's just a date, and it's with him.

  My eyes glaze over as my mind goes back to the funeral and I remember the way he looked at me. Like he wanted me. Like he needed me. Desire burns in my lower stomach, and my cheeks redden from heat.

  Allen clears his throat. “Miss Turner?”

  I jump in my seat. “Uh, yeah? Sorry,” I say, my face on fire. I quickly grab my purse and stand up. I think it’s time to go home. “I thank you so much for your service, Allen. I’ll be going now.”

  Allen gives me a nod. “Should you work out something with Liam, I’d be glad to offer my advice.”

  I touch a hand to my chest. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.” But I won’t be doing shit with that bastard, except busting his ass for being a filthy thief. I walk over to the door and place my hand on the knob. Before I open it, I say in parting, “Sorry for ruining your shirt.”

  “It’s no loss.” Allen grins. “I’ve got thirty more just like it at home.”

  * * *

  On the way back to the home I grew up in, my father's home and now the only thing I have left of him, I keep running through different scenarios in my head. Liam forced daddy to will everything over to him. Liam drugged him and made him sign everything over to him. Liam blackmailed daddy and made him sign over his estate.

  Each scenario fills me with rage. But not toward Liam, just at myself. There's no way any of that is true. But still, who is Liam?

  Something is absolutely wrong with this scenario.

  Whatever Liam did, I intend to get to the bottom of it. I’m not going to let this man get away with what’s rightfully mine. I vow that Liam will pay with everything he has if I find out there was any foul play involved in my father’s death.

  As I pull up, I spot Liam’s car, a red fucking Porsche, in the driveway next door. I stare at the car angrily, as if willing it to blow up from my
gaze alone.

  I’m going to find out who you are, Mr. Asshole, and what you did to make daddy leave everything to you, I think to myself as I glare balefully.

  Enraged, I jump out of my car and slam the door. I stomp across the yard, my yard, and to the front door. Balling my fist, I pound on the hard wood like a maniac. It's been raining off and on since the funeral, but right now it's cold and my knuckles hurt as they slam against the wood, but I'm just happy to feel anything at all.

  I only get in several thumps before the door swings open so fast that I almost punch Liam in the face. Good.

  He moves to the side, easily avoiding my wild swing. “Whoa! There’s a doorbell, you know.”

  I hate to admit it, but I go weak in the knees at the sight of him. I can’t figure out why. He’s dressed in the same outfit he had on at the lawyer's office, except now his shirt’s unbuttoned down to his chest, showing the hard, tanned skin underneath.

  God, he’s so fucking handsome, I think to myself.

  Slowly, I lower my hand and glower at him, though I feel desire twisting my stomach. I hate how it makes me feel. This guy, this fraud, is my enemy, yet I can’t help but notice how good-looking he is.

  How is that even possible?

  “Yes, I know there’s a doorbell!” I snarl indignantly.

  “Then why didn’t you use it?” he asks with a cocked brow. It makes him look even sexier, and that only pisses me off more.

  “Maybe because I didn’t want to.” I say nastily.

  “I see. You just came here to yell and call me an asshole some more,” he says with a twinkle in his gorgeous green eyes. It’s almost as if the bastard is looking forward to a showdown with me.

  I ignore his playfulness. “What did you do to him?” I demand in the most accusatory tone I can manage.

  The corners of Liam’s lips pull down into a frown. He’s mad now. Good. “What do you mean, 'do to him'?” His voice is lowered and all traces of teasing are gone.

  “You know exactly what I mean.” It takes everything in me to keep my voice level and not let it crack. Just the thought that he did something to daddy makes my body tremble with anger.