Guardian to the Heiress (19 page)

“I can’t ask for more than that.”

“I’ll never run out of love for you.” He looked deeply into her eyes.

“Nor I for you.” Carol lifted her mouth to give him a kiss that was hot, sweet and fierce.

The intimacy between them seemed to Damon like the greatest gift life could afford. Very slowly, he began to peel her dress down to her hips. Her skin was flawless in the lamplight, her naked breasts small, high, perfect, inviting his mouth and his hands. He bent his head and pressed his open mouth against one tight pink bud, catching one nipple then the other very gently with his teeth. “Are you a virgin?” he asked very quietly.

She lay back, her body consumed by sensation. “I know
you
aren’t, but I am. I’m one of the very few around. So, now you know you’re going to transform me. Maiden into woman. I never got past petting, Damon. You will be my
first
lover.” She felt exultant now. “Does that worry you?” She reached out to him as he pondered her question.

Damon had to consider how the strength of his feelings, the power of his body, his driving male need for her, might impact on her. He wanted to give her only
pleasure.

“Not at all,” he said after a moment, the strength of his love for her showing in his eyes. “I’ll take it very,
very
slowly. I want this to be one of the all-time memorable experiences of our lives.”

She was so moved she could scarcely speak. “So it’s til death do us part?” Tears glittered in her eyes.

“Yes, Carol, my love, it is.” He said it like a sacred vow, which indeed was what he felt.

“And it’s a yes for me, too.” Carol’s voice matched his intensity. “You’re my fixed star, Damon. I need you. I’ll always need you.”

“And I’ll always be there for you.” He raised her slender arm, kissing the length of it, from her wrist to her elbow to the curve of her shoulder. “Marry me,” he begged, his dark eyes brilliant with love and pride in her. “It will be a communion of our bodies and our souls.”

“The way it should be if one is blessed.” There was no question of pausing for Carol, not even for a second. Her face took on a very special radiance. “I’ll be
everything
you want.”

“But you are already.” Damon dipped his head to kiss the soft hollow of her throat.

High emotion assailed them. Carol pressed her palms hard against the coverlet, half-faint with wanting. “So, a night to remember?” She gazed up at him with blue smouldering eyes.

“Let me show you what love is,” he resolved, smiling into her eyes.

“Then I want you to start.
Right now.
”

It was miraculous and it was simple: total commitment made manifest.

* * *

In such a world as Damon and Carol were destined to live in, neither as it turned out could have hoped for a more perfect partner or a more perfect ally. The one was always there for the other. That alone conferred tremendous strength on a union that was further blessed with children, boy and girl, who would be given all the love, the support, the trust, and the training to carve their own successful paths in life.

EPILOGUE

C
AROL
AND
D
AMON
had recently returned from their honeymoon when Maurice Chancellor rang to ask if he could call in. He was told,
of course.
Maurice was still living at Beaumont, writing his magnum opus, a crime novel of memories and murder. It was by all accounts going well. He had a publisher and an excellent editor who gave him many a helpful suggestion and lots of encouragement.

Divorce proceedings were well under way. In less than a year and a day, Maurice Chancellor and his wife Dallas would enter a new phase in life. Dallas in fact had already entered one. She had chosen to live in London. Though strictly speaking she hadn’t been left with a choice, just a clear directive. She had been told never to return.

Were it not for his overly careful movements, Carol wouldn’t have thought anything was amiss. But something definitely was. She braced herself. She and Damon were sublimely happy, working as a finely meshed team. She had graduated in law with first-class honours. Christmas was coming up, a wonderful time of the year that they would share together. They were so enjoying their lives and one another, full of their hopes and plans.

Maurice waited until they were all seated in the living room of their new penthouse apartment, a fresh start. The Chancellor mansion on the harbour had sold within a week of its going on the market. Carol and Damon had the proceeds of the sale earmarked for medical research into childhood autism and programmes to significantly brighten future prospects for children with the disorder and the lives of the caring parents.

“So what is it, Uncle Maurice?” Carol asked. She and her uncle had grown much closer. He had, in fact, given her away at the wedding—the wedding of the year, and no mistake! It had been an unforgettable day for everyone. Roxanne, looking marvellous, had even shed a few motherly tears. There had been no jocular mention of when she might expect her first grandchild. Roxanne probably couldn’t survive being a grandmother.

“There’s some news...” Maurice said and let the sentence trail.

“Please tell us,” Carol prompted.

He spread his hands. “I must be a terribly cold-hearted man, but I can’t feel any sort of grief. I
want
to, but I can’t. I’m just numb.” In truth, he had been numb since his wife’s confession to tampering with Carol’s car before she had left for London. Shockingly, she had shown little in the way of remorse.

Damon reached for his wife’s hand, as ever highly protective of her well-being. On her left hand Carol wore her engagement ring above her diamond-banded wedding ring. He had asked the city’s top jeweller to hand-make the ring using the finest Burmese ruby the jeweller could source. He had designed the ring himself, an oval 3.59 ruby, the gemstone associated with love and passion banded by baguette diamonds to match Carol’s wedding ring.

Maurice’s voice brought him out of his moment of reverie. “It’s Dallas,” he said heavily. “Her luck has finally run out. She was involved in a pile up on the M1. Weather conditions were very bad. She was travelling too fast, couldn’t stop.”

Something shifted inside Carol. “You’re saying she didn’t survive the crash?” She was unable to prevent a moment’s relief before dismay prevailed. Death was death, but she still had the occasional nightmare about Dallas and her plans.

“She didn’t.” Maurice replied, a mix of emotions engraved on his handsome face. “Troy is knocked sideways. He’s going over there. Put simply, Troy is the only one who loved her. I suppose you’d have to qualify that and say, in his own way. Poor Dallas, she was her own worst enemy,” he said like a bone-weary man.

She certainly was, Damon thought, convinced the superrich thought they were different from everyone else. He drew his beautiful wife, the love of his life, ever closer. “No one wants to hear of a death, Maurice, and the pain it inflicts on those remaining, but whatever happened with Dallas in the past is over. Carol and I—we hope you, too—are looking to the future. Your book is going well, from all accounts. Your editor tells you you’ve got the talent. You have to take it as far as you can.

“We have some news, too. I was offered a full partnership at Bradfield Douglass. I expected it, but Carol and I have talked it over and we’ve decided to go out on our own. I always intended to at some stage. Now is the time and I’ll have my wife beside me. We’ll build our own firm, Hunter Chancellor.”

Maurice searched their expressive faces. “Well, that is wonderful to hear. Splendid to bring Carol in.”

“She’ll be an asset,” Damon maintained.

“So I will.” Carol turned her head to kiss her husband’s cheek.

For the first time Maurice gave a smile. “Perhaps I should start thinking about shifting my allegiance from Marcus Bradfield.” Marcus had become too set in his ways, not much thinking outside the box.

“Up to you, Uncle Maurice,” Carol said, thinking there was wisdom in such a decision. “My husband is positively brilliant, as Grandfather came to realise. As a family, we’ve outrun the past, Uncle Maurice. Our future is made every day.”

Maurice Chancellor studied his beautiful niece. Would that he had such a daughter! “A long, very happy life to both of you,” he said with the utmost sincerity, his battered heart filling with comfort. Perhaps when he got home he would call his son, saying he would join him in London. He had to take better care of his son than his father had ever taken of him. He saw now he had been offered a second chance. How did that make him?

Happy, he realised.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from
Single Dad’s Holiday Wedding
by Patricia Thayer

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CHAPTER ONE

S
HE
still wasn’t sure if coming here was a
good idea.

Lorelei Hutchinson drove along First Street to the downtown
area of the small community of Destiny, Colorado. She reached the historic
square and parked her rental car in an angled spot by a huge three-tiered
fountain. The centerpiece of the brick-lined plaza was trimmed with a hedge and
benches for visitors. A pathway led to a park where children were playing.

She got out, wrapped her coat sweater tighter against the cold
autumn temperature and walked closer to watch the water cascade over the marble
structure. After nearly twenty years many of her memories had faded, but some
were just as vivid as if they’d happened yesterday.

One Christmas she remembered the fountain water was red, the
giant tree decorated with multicolored lights and ornaments and everyone singing
carols. She had a family then.

A rush of emotions hit her when she recalled being in this
exact spot, holding her father’s hand as he took her to the park swings. One of
the rare occasions she’d spent time with the man. He’d always been too busy
building his empire. Too busy for his wife and daughter. So many times she had
wanted just a little of his attention, his love. She never got it.

Now it was too late. Lyle Hutchinson was gone.

With a cleansing breath, she turned toward the rows of
storefront buildings. She smiled. Not many towns had this
step-back-into-the-nineteen-thirties look, but it seemed that Destiny was
thriving.

The wind blew dried leaves as she crossed the two-lane street
and strolled past Clark’s Hardware Store and Save More Pharmacy, where her
mother took her for candy and ice cream cones as a child. A good memory. She
sure could use some of those right now.

There was a new addition to the block, a bridal shop called
Rocky Mountain Bridal Shop. She kept walking, past an antiques store toward a
law office with the name Paige Keenan Larkin, Attorney at Law, stenciled on the
glass.

She paused at the door to the office. This was her father’s
town, not hers. Lyle Hutchinson had made sure of that. That was why she needed
someone on her side. She pushed the door open and a bell tinkled as she walked
into the reception area.

The light coming through the windows of the storefront office
illuminated the high ceilings and hardwood floors that smelled of polish and
age, but also gave off a homey feeling.

She heard the sound of high heels against the bare floors as a
petite woman came down the long hall. She had dark brown hair worn in a blunt
cut that brushed her shoulders. A white tailored blouse tucked into a black
shirt gave her a professional look.

A bright smile appeared. “Lorelei Hutchinson? I’m Paige Larkin.
Welcome home.”

* * *

After exchanging pleasantries, Lori was ushered into a
small conference room to find a middle-aged man seated at the head of the table,
going through a folder. No doubt, her father’s attorney.

He saw her and stood. “Lorelei Hutchinson, I’m Dennis
Bradley.”

She shook his offered hand. “Mr. Bradley.”

When the lawyer phoned her last week, and told her of her
father’s sudden death and that she’d been mentioned in his will, she was shocked
about both. She hadn’t seen or talked with her father since she’d been seven
years old.

All Lori was hoping for now was that she could come into town
today, sign any papers for Lyle’s will and leave tomorrow.

The middle-aged attorney began, “First of all, Lorelei, I want
to express my condolences for your loss. Lyle wasn’t only my business associate,
but my friend, too.” He glanced at Paige and back at her. “I agreed to see you
today knowing your reluctance. Your father wanted the formal reading of his will
at Hutchinson House tomorrow.”

Great. Not the plans she had. “Mr. Bradley, as you know, I
haven’t seen my father in years. I’m not sure why you insisted I come here.”
He’d sent her the airline ticket and reserved a rental car. “If Lyle Hutchinson
left me anything, couldn’t you have sent it to me?”

The man frowned. “As I explained on the phone, Ms. Hutchinson,
you’re Lyle’s sole heir.” He shook his head. “And that’s all I’m at liberty to
say until tomorrow at the reading of the will. Please just stay until then.
Believe me, it will benefit not only you, but this town.”

Before she could comprehend or react to the news, the door
opened and another man walked into the room. He looked her over and said, “So
the prodigal daughter finally made it to town.”

The big man had a rough edge to him, his dark hair a little on
the shaggy side. He was dressed in charcoal trousers and a collared shirt, minus
the tie. His hooded blue-eyed gaze fringed by spiky black lashes didn’t waver
from her.

Paige stood. “Jace, you shouldn’t be here. This is a private
meeting between me and my client.”

He didn’t retreat. “I just wanted to make sure she doesn’t take
the money and run. Lyle had obligations he needed to fulfill before that
happens.”

Lori wasn’t sure how to handle this—Jace’s attack. But having
heard of her father’s shrewd business deals, she wasn’t surprised by the man’s
anger.

“I’m Lorelei Hutchinson, Mr....”

He stepped closer. “Yeager. Jace Yeager. Your father and I were
partners on a construction project until I realized Lyle pulled one over on
me.”

“Jace,” Bradley warned. “Work stopped because of Lyle’s
death.”

The man made a snorting sound. “It wouldn’t have if Lyle had
put his share of money into the business account in the first place.” He glared
at Lori. “Sorry if my impatience bothers you, but I’ve been waiting nearly three
weeks and so have my men.”

“Be patient a little while longer,” Bradley told him.
“Everything should be resolved tomorrow.”

That didn’t appease Mr. Yeager. “You don’t understand. I can’t
keep the project site shut down indefinitely, or I go broke.” He turned that
heated look on her and she oddly felt a stirring. “It seems tomorrow you’re
coming into all the money. I want you to know that a chunk of that belongs to
me.”

Lori fought a gasp. “Look, Mr. Yeager, I don’t know anything
about your partnership with Lyle, but I’ll have Paige look into it.”

Jace Yeager had to work hard to keep himself under control.
Okay, so he wasn’t doing a very good job. When he’d heard that Lorelei
Hutchinson was coming today, he only saw red. Was she going to stroll in here,
grab her daddy’s money and take off? He wasn’t going to be on the losing end
with a woman again.

Not when his business was on the chopping block, along with his
and Cassie’s future. Just about every dime he had was wrapped up in this
project. And it was already coming to the end of October as it was, with only
bad weather on the horizon. It needed to be completed without any more
delays.

Jace looked over Lyle’s daughter. The pretty blonde with big
brown eyes stared back at him. She had a clean-scrubbed look with a dusting of
freckles across her nose, and very little makeup.

Okay, she wasn’t what he expected, but he’d been wrong about
women before. And the last thing he wanted to do was work for her. After his
ex-wife, he wasn’t going to let another woman have all the control.

He looked at Bradley. “What does Lyle’s will say?”

“It won’t be read until tomorrow.”

Lori saw Jace Yeager’s frustration, and felt obligated to say,
“Maybe then we’ll have some news about the project.”

He glared. “There’s no doubt I will. I might not have your
father’s money, Ms. Hutchinson, but I’ll fight to keep what’s mine.”

Jace Yeager turned and stormed out right past a tall redheaded
woman who was rushing in. “Oh, dear,” she said, “I was hoping I could get here
in time.” Her green eyes lit up when she saw Lori. “Hi, I’m Morgan Keenan
Hilliard.”

“Lori Hutchinson,” Lori said as she went to shake Morgan’s
hand.

“It’s nice to meet you. As mayor, I wanted to be here to
welcome you back to town, and to try and slow down Jace. Not an easy job.”

Since Paige and Bradley had their heads together going over
papers, they walked out into the hall. “I’m not sure if you remember me.”

“I remember a lot about Destiny. Like you and your sisters. You
were a little older than I was in school, but everyone knew about the Keenan
girls.”

Morgan smiled. “And of course being Lyle’s daughter, everyone
knew of you, too. I hope you have good memories of our town.”

Except for her parents’ marriage falling apart, along with her
childhood. “Mostly, especially the decorated Christmas tree in the square. Do
you still do that?”

Morgan smiled. “Oh, yes and it’s grown bigger and better every
year.” She paused. “Our mom said you have a reservation at the inn for
tonight.”

She nodded. “I don’t feel right about staying at the
house.”

The redhead gripped her hand. “You don’t have to explain. I
only want your visit here to be as pleasant as possible. If there is anything
else, any details about your father’s funeral.”

Lori quickly shook her head. “Not now.”

Morgan quickly changed the subject. “Look, I know Jace isn’t
giving you a very good impression at the moment, but he’s having some trouble
with the Mountain Heritage complex.”

“I take it my father was involved in it, too.”

Morgan waved her hand. “We can save that discussion for another
time. You need to rest after your trip. Be warned, Mom will ask you to
dinner...with the family.”

Lori wasn’t really up to it. She wanted a room and a bed, and
to make a quick call back home to her sister.

Morgan must have sensed it. “It’s only the family and no
business, or probing questions. We’ll probably bore you to death talking about
kids.”

Lori relaxed. She truly didn’t want to think about what would
happen tomorrow.

“You’re right. That’s what I need tonight.”

* * *

That evening as Jace was driving to the Keenan Inn, he
came to the conclusion that he’d blown his chance earlier today. He tapped his
fist against the steering wheel, angry about the entire mess.

“Daaad, you’re not listening.”

Jace looked in the rearview mirror to the backseat. “What,
sweetie?”

“Do I look all right?”

He glanced over his shoulder. His daughter, Cassandra Marie
Yeager, was a pretty girl. She had on stretchy jean pants that covered coltish
long legs and a pink sweater that had ruffles around the hem. Her long blond
hair had curled around her face with a few tiny braids. Something she’d talked
him into helping with.

“You look nice. But you always do.”

“We’re going to Ellie’s grandmother’s house. Ellie Larkin is my
best friend.”

“I think she’ll like your outfit.”

“What about my hair?”

“Honey, I’ve always loved your blond curls. The braids are a
nice touch.”

That brought a big smile to her face and a tightening in his
throat. All he ever wanted was for her to be happy.

When they’d moved here six months ago, it hadn’t been easy for
her. He still only had temporary custody of his daughter. It was supposed to be
only during the time when her mother remarried a guy from England. Jace had
different plans. He wanted to make Cassie’s life here with him permanent.
Optimistic that could happen, he went out and bought a run-down house with horse
property. Although it needed a lot of work, it felt like the perfect home for
them. A couple horses helped coax his seven-year-old daughter into adjusting a
little faster to their new life.

A life away from a mother who’d planned to take his Cassie off
to Europe. He was so afraid that his little girl would end up in boarding school
and he’d only get to see her on holidays.

No, he wouldn’t let that happen. A product of the foster care
system himself, he’d always longed for a home and family. It hadn’t worked out
with ex-wife Shelly, and that mistake cost him dearly—a big divorce settlement
that had nearly wiped him out. Jace hadn’t cared about the money, not if he got
his daughter. He only hoped they weren’t going to be homeless anytime soon.

His thoughts turned to Lorelei Hutchinson. He didn’t like how
he reacted to her. Why had she angered him so much? He knew why. She had nothing
to do with Lyle’s business dealings. But she was due to inherit a lot of money
tomorrow, and he could be handed the shaft at the same time. It could cost him
everything that mattered. His daughter. No, he wouldn’t let that happen.

He pulled up in front of the beautiful three-story Victorian
home painted dove-gray with white shutters and trim. The Keenan Inn was a
historical landmark, a bed-and-breakfast that was also the home of Tim and
Claire Keenan. Jace had heard the story about how three tiny girls had been left
with them to raise as their own. That would be Morgan, Paige and Leah. After
college all three returned to Destiny to marry and raise their own families.

Right now there was someone else staying in the inn—Lorelei
Hutchinson. Somehow he had to convince her that this downtown project needed to
move forward. Not only for him, but also for Destiny.

Just then Tim Keenan came out the front door, followed closely
by some of their grandkids, Corey, Ellie and Kate.

His daughter grabbed her overnight bag and was out of the car
before he could say anything. He climbed out, too.

Tim Keenan waved from the porch. “Hello, Jace.”

“Hi, Tim.” He walked toward him. “Thank you for inviting Cassie
to the sleepover. I think she’s getting tired of her father’s bad company.”

“You have a lot on your mind.”

Tim was in his early sixties, but he looked a lot younger. His
wife was also attractive, and one of the best cooks in town. He knew that
because the Keenans had been the first to stop by when he and Cassie moved into
their house. They’d brought enough food for a week.

“Hey, why don’t you stay for supper, too?”