by Tracy Wolff
“I wanted to tell you on the island,” she said, keeping her back to him. “I tried once, but we got sidetracked. That’s an excuse. I should’ve made you listen, but we were so happy and there was no such thing as reality during those few days. I just wanted to stay in that euphoric moment.”
He couldn’t fault her for that because he’d felt the exact same way.
“There’s just so much against us, Will.” She turned back around and the lone tear on her cheek gutted him. “Sometimes people can love each other and still not be together. Sometimes love isn’t enough and people just need to go their own way.”
Will heard what she was saying, but how could he not hone in on the one main point to her farewell speech?
“You love me?” He couldn’t help but smile as he crossed to her. “Say it, Cat. I want to hear the words.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Say it.” His hands settled around her waist as he pulled her flush against him. “Now.”
“I love you, Will, but—”
He crushed his lips to hers. Nothing else mattered after those life-altering words. Nothing she could say would erase the fact that she loved him and he loved her, and he’d be damn it if he would ever let her walk away.
Her body melted against his as her fingers curled around his biceps. Will lifted his mouth from hers, barely.
“Don’t leave, Cat,” he murmured against her lips. “Don’t leave Alma. Don’t leave me.”
“I can’t give up who I am, Will.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “No matter how much I love you, I can’t give up everything I’ve worked for and I wouldn’t expect you to give up your work for me. We have different goals in different directions.”
The fear of losing her, the reality that if he didn’t lay it all on the line, then she would be out of his life for good hit him hard.
“I’m coming with you.”
Cat’s eyes flew open as Will tipped his head back to see her face better. “What?”
“I meant what I said. I won’t give you up and you’re more to me than any business. But I can work from anywhere and I can fly to Alma when I need to.”
“You can’t be serious.” Panic flooded her face. “This is rushed. You can’t expect me to just say okay and we’ll be on our way to happily-ever-after. It’s too fast.”
Will laughed. “I’ve known you since you were a little girl. I dated you four years ago and last weekend you spent nearly three days in my bed. You said you love me and I love the hell out of you and you think this is too fast? If we move any slower we’ll be in a nursing home by the time you wear my ring on your finger.”
“I can’t think.” Once again she pushed him aside and moved past him. “I can’t take all this in. I mean, your dad and my mom...all of the things that have kept us apart. And then you corner me in a laundry room of all places to tell me you want me forever.”
“So we don’t do things the traditional way.” He came up behind her, gripped her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “I’m done with being by the book and boring. I want adventure, I want to be on a deserted island with the only woman in the world who can make me angry, laugh and love the way you do. I want to take care of you, I want to wear out the words I love you and I want to have no regrets from here on out where we are concerned.”
Cat eased back against him, her head on his shoulder. “I want to believe all of that is possible. I want to hold on to the hope that I can still fulfill my dreams and I can have you. But I won’t give up myself, no matter how much I love you, Will.”
Wrapping his arms around her waist, he leaned his cheek on her head. “I wouldn’t ask you to give up anything. I just didn’t want you leaving Alma without me. We can live wherever you want. I have a jet, I have a yacht...well, I’ll have a new one soon. I can travel where I need to be for work and I can take you where you need to go in order to fulfill this goal of yours. I want to be with you every step of your journey.”
“I want to do it on my own,” she stated, sliding her hands over his.
“I wouldn’t dream of interfering,” he replied. “I’ll support you in any way you need. I’ll be the silent financial backer or I’ll be the man keeping your bed warm at night and staying out of the business entirely. The choice is yours.”
Cat turned in his arms, laced her hands behind his neck and stared up at him. “Tell me this is real. Tell me you don’t hate me for keeping the secret and that you will always make me first in your life.”
“It’s real.” He kissed her forehead. “I could never hate you.” He kissed her nose. “And you’ll never question again whether you’re first in my life.”
He slid his mouth across hers, gliding his hands down her body to the hem of her shirt. Easing the hem up, he smoothed his palms up over her bare skin, pleased when she shivered beneath his touch.
“Are you seriously trying to seduce me in a laundry room all while your sister-in-law is throwing a party to raise money for her foundation a few feet away?”
Will laughed as his lips traveled down the column of her throat. “I’m not trying. I’m about to succeed.”
Cat’s body arched back as her fingers threaded through his hair. “I hope no partygoers take a stroll through the backyard and glance in the window of the door,” she panted when his hands brushed the underside of her breasts.
“We already made headlines.” He jerked the shirt up and over her head, flinging it to the side without a care. “Another one won’t matter at this point.”
“What will your brother think if you don’t show at the party?”
Will shrugged. “James is pretty smart. I’d say he’ll know exactly where I am.”
Cat started working on the buttons of his shirt and soon sent the shirt and his jacket to the floor. “We still don’t have a solid plan for our future.”
Hoisting her up, Will sat her on the counter and settled between her legs. “I know how the next several minutes are going to play out. Beyond that I don’t care so long as you’re with me.”
Will kissed her once more and eased back. “But I already have the perfect wedding present for you.”
Cat laughed as her arms draped over his shoulders. “And what’s that?”
“A maid. You’ll not lift a finger for me ever. I want you to concentrate on your design career and the babies we’re going to have in the future.”
When Cat’s smile widened and she tightened her hold on him, Will knew the four years he’d worked on getting back to her were worth it. Everything he’d sacrificed with his father and personal life was worth this moment, knowing he was building a future with the only woman he’d ever loved.
* * * * *
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Desire story.
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ISBN-13: 9781460386736
Maid for a Magnate
Copyright © 2015 by Harlequin Books S.A.
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Jules Bennett for her contribution to the Dynasties: The Montoros miniseries.
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He’s a rich bachelor. She’s inherited his fortune. Let the fun begin! Only from New York Times bestselling author Elizabeth Bevarly!
Meet Gracie Sumner, reluctant Cinderella. When the down-to-earth Midwesterner learns her deceptively humble neighbor left her fourteen billion-with-a-b dollars, she doesn’t know what to do. Especially when said neighbor’s shunned heir, Harrison Sage III, stakes his claim.
Harrison is not amused, especially when the quirky gold digger gets under his skin. How can the sophisticated New Yorker let himself be attracted to the woman who stole his father’s fortune? Soon a contested will turns into a contest of wills—one whose outcome could very well be determined in the bedroom!
She closed her eyes, and for the merest, most exquisite millisecond, she thought she felt the brush of his lips over hers.
But she told herself she’d only imagined it.
The crowd had dispersed, caught up in another song, another dance, another moment. But Gracie couldn’t quite let this moment go. And neither, it seemed, could he. When he began to lower his head toward hers—there was no mistaking his intention this time—she didn’t know how to react. Not until his mouth covered hers completely. After that, she knew exactly what to do.
She kissed him back.
The feel of his mouth was extraordinary, at once entreating and demanding, tender and rough, soft and firm. By the time he pulled back, her brain was so rattled all she could do was say the first thing that popped into her head. “I thought you didn’t like me.”
He nuzzled the curve where her neck joined her shoulder. “Oh, I like you very much.”
“You think I took advantage of your father.”
“I don’t think that at all.”
“Since when?”
* * *
Only on His Terms is part of The Accidental Heirs duet: First they find their fortunes, then they find love.
Dear Reader,
I confess I’m a bit of a TV addict. And also a major insomniac. Put the two conditions together and you have someone who discovers all kinds of interesting stuff on the higher cable channels at three o’clock in the morning. Such was the case with a British show called Heir Hunters, which I found fascinating. The members of a probate law firm search for long-lost relatives of people who’ve passed away without a will or who had no known heirs. Often the heirs they found had no idea they were the recipients of—sometimes significant—estates.
This kind of situation is just perfect for that writer question “What if...?”
What if someone going about his or her normal daily life was suddenly informed s/he was the heir/ess to a fortune? What if, say, a waitress working her way through college discovered her former elderly neighbor, a retired TV repairman and stand-in grandfather, was in fact a twenty-first century Howard Hughes who left her his entire estate when he died? And what if he left behind an estranged son who suspected her of conning his father out of that fortune for nefarious reasons? Talk about an opportunity for sparks to fly!
Gracie and Harrison’s story is the first in a series of such what-if situations. I hope you have fun reading about them. And I hope you’ll check back for the rest of the Accidental Heirs books. Because I’m having a lot of fun writing them.
Happy reading,
Elizabeth
ONLY ON HIS TERMS
By Elizabeth Bevarly
Elizabeth Bevarly is a New York Times bestselling and award-winning author of more than seventy novels and novellas. Her books have been translated into two dozen languages and published in three dozen countries, and she hopes to someday be as well traveled herself. An honors graduate of the University of Louisville, she has called home places as diverse as San Juan, Puerto Rico and Haddonfield, New Jersey, but now writes full-time in her native Kentucky, usually on a futon between two cats. She loves reading, movies, British and Canadian TV shows, and fiddling with soup recipes. Visit her on the web at elizabethbevarly.com, follow her on Twitter or send her a friend request on Facebook.
Books by Elizabeth Bevarly
Harlequin Desire
Taming the Prince
Taming the Beastly M.D.
Married to His Business
The Billionaire Gets His Way
The Accidental Heirs
Only on His Terms
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com or elizabethbevarly.com for more titles.
For Wanda Ottewell. With many, many thanks and even more fond memories.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Prologue
Gracie Sumner came from a long line of waitresses. Her mother worked for a popular chain restaurant for three decades, and her grandmother manned the counter of a gleaming silver diner on the Great White Way. The tradition went all the way back to her great-great-great-grandmother, in fact, who welcomed westward-ho train passengers to a Denver saloon. Gracie may have brought a bit more prestige to the family trade by finding work in a four-star, Zagat-approved bistro, but the instinct and artistry of waitressing was pretty much encoded on her DNA, the same way her tawny hair and brown eyes were.
And that instinct was how she knew there was something more to the silver-haired gentleman seated at table fifteen of Seattle’s Café Destiné than a desire to sample the pot-au-feu.
He had come in at the end of the lunch shift and asked specifically to be seated in her area, then engaged her in conversation in a way that made her feel as if he already knew her. But neither he nor the name on the credit card he placed atop his check—Bennett Tarrant—was familiar. That wasn’t surprising, however, since judging by his bespoke suit and platinum card, he was clearly a man of means. Unlike Gracie, who was struggling to pay her way through college, and who, at twenty-six, still had three semesters left before earning her BA in early childhood education.
“Here you go, Mr. Tarrant,” she said as she placed the server book back on the table. “I hope you’ll visit Café Destiné again soon.”
“Actually, Miss Sumner, there’s a reason why I came here today.”
Her gaze flew to his. Although she always introduced herself as Gracie to her customers, she never gave out her last name. Warily, she replied, “The pot-au-feu. Yes, it’s the most popular item on our menu.”
“And it was delicious,” Mr. Tarrant assured her. “But I really came in to see you on behalf of a client. I inquired for you at your apartment first, and your landlady told me where you work.”
Good
old Mrs. Mancini. Gracie could always count on her to guard absolutely no one’s privacy.
Mr. Tarrant withdrew a silver case from inside his suit jacket and handed her a business card. Tarrant, Fiver & Twigg, it read, and there was a New York City address. Bennett Tarrant’s title was President and Senior Probate Researcher. Which told Gracie all of nothing.
She looked at him again. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. What’s a probate researcher?”
“I’m an attorney. My firm is one of several appointed by the State of New York when someone passes away without a will, or when a beneficiary named in someone’s will can’t be found. In such circumstances, we locate the rightful heirs.”
Gracie’s confusion deepened. “I still don’t understand. My mother died in Cincinnati, and her estate was settled years ago.”
Not that there had been much to settle. Marian Sumner had left Gracie just enough to cover four months’ rent and modestly furnish a one-bedroom apartment. Still, she had been grateful for even that.
“It’s not your mother’s estate my firm was appointed to research,” Mr. Tarrant said. “Did you know a man by the name of Harrison Sage?”
Gracie shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”
“How about Harry Sagalowsky?”
“Oh, sure, I knew Harry. His apartment was across from mine when I lived in Cincinnati. He was such a nice man.”
For a moment, she was overrun by warm memories. Harry had been living in the other apartment on the top floor of the renovated Victorian when Gracie moved in after her mother’s death. They had become instant friends—he filled the role of the grandfather she never had, and she was the granddaughter he never had. She introduced him to J. K. Rowling and Bruno Mars and taught him how to crush the competition in Call of Duty. He turned her on to Patricia Highsmith and Miles Davis and taught her how to fox-trot at the Moondrop Ballroom.