Guardian to the Heiress (9 page)

“Look, I’m sorry, man. I didn’t hurt her.”

“I need you to say that to
her.
What’s your name?”

The young man gave Carol a look that suddenly sparked with interest. He made a whistling sound. “Ooh,
call me pretty!
You’re our very own little heiress. Aren’t you—you know?—Carol Chancellor?”

“Apparently.” With her own age groups, Carol was immensely sure of herself.

But
Damon felt a rush of anger.
“What are you doing here? Fill me in. I’m ready enough to call the police.”

The young man tore his eyes away from Carol. “You’ve gotta be jokin’ man?”

“Try me.” Damon snapped.

“Look, my dad and his girlfriend live here, okay? Understand that upsets me. He’s Steve Prescott. You know, the developer? He makes tons of money. I can give you some, if you like. I’m Gary.”

“Don’t much like your manners, Gary.”

Suddenly Carol recognized the young man. “It’s all right, Damon. I’ve seen Gary before. His father has one of the penthouses.”

Gary’s expression brightened. He offered his hand to Carol. “Pleased to meet you.”

Carol consented to having her hand shaken. “How do you do?”

“You’re even prettier than your photographs.”

“How nice of you to say that.”

“No problem.” He turned to Damon. “Now you know who I am, can I go? I have to check in at home. I had to deliver a parcel from Mum to dear old Dad. I hope it blows up in his face.”

No good feelings there,
Carol thought.

“Take it slow, Gary,” Damon advised. “You can get into trouble making statements like that.”

“So he hurts Mum and he doesn’t get hurt, is that it?”

Carol spoke up. She knew all about dysfunctional families. “Give it time, Gary. I guarantee your parents’ separation won’t last long.”

Gary looked down at her in amazement. “You reckon?”

Carol had seen the girlfriend at least a dozen times: an airhead and a gold-digger. “That’s my opinion. Trust a woman’s instinct.”

“You don’t have to sell that to me,” Gary said fervently. “Mum was the
first,
not the last, to know Dad had started playing around. Look, how about we have coffee sometime?” he suggested. “Get better acquainted. I’m surprised I haven’t run into you before now.”

“Literally.”

“Ouch! I’ve moved back in with Mum. We’re in the book.” He named an exclusive street and a suburb.

“I’ll think about it,” Carol said.

“Great! I’d really like that. Can I go now, boss?” He shot a look at the tall, looming Damon.

“This time you walk away,” Damon only half joked.

At her door Damon asked, “Want me to look around? It will only take a minute.”

She stared up at him, suddenly all breathlessness. “You know I’m safe, Damon.”

Yet it seemed to him she had lost a little colour. He shouldn’t have done it, but he couldn’t help himself. You could call him a victim of her beautiful blue eyes. Just looking into them was like diving into a crystal-clear lagoon. He drew a finger a little way down her satin-smooth cheek. “I’m here. Might as well.” Unnerved by his own susceptibility. he made his tone brisk. Briskness wasn’t easy to project when he felt anything but.

“O—kay.”
The word was slowed by the flickers of excitement that raced through Carol at the rate of knots. She could heat the pulse of her heart. All because he had very lightly stroked her skin. This was
insane.
She felt shame. She didn’t want him to see her excitement. She hated the very thought of making a fool of herself. She’d die if she embarrassed him. She had so much poise, so much self-confidence with the boys she knew. Damon was something else again. She was so aware of him, it was right to feel fear.

She stood motionless in the living room while Damon made a quick check. He even checked over the rear balcony.

“All clear. You feel safe here, don’t you, Carol?” His dark eyes found hers.

She could have said,
I feel safe with you around,
instead she said, “Safe as a girl can be. We’ve all been a bit unnerved by Anne Nesbitt’s stalker getting into her very secure apartment building.”

Damon nodded. “Well, he’s been caught.” A slight pause. “Don’t have coffee with the Prescott boy. Don’t encourage him.” He said it as though the thought worried him.

“What’s this, Damon?” She was glad of the opportunity to offer a light taunt. “You’re telling me what I can and can’t do?”

“No, never that. But whatever you do, just be careful. There will be plenty out to exploit any weakness they could find in you. You know that.” She was an extremely bright and capable, but so
young.
“I don’t want you to get into the middle of the Prescott family’s split-up. I happen to know it’s been messy. Why did you tell Gary his father’s straying might be short-lived?”

Carol shrugged. “Just a gut feeling. I’ve seen Steven Prescott’s girlfriend. Queen of the sexpots, probably wondrously brainless. Might take him a while, but I’ve been told he’s nobody’s fool.”

“Middle-age crisis,” Damon said. “Men don’t like to feel they’re getting old, older, whatever.”

“Would you cheat on your wife, Damon?”

He gave her a long look, before answering slowly. “I need to get myself a wife first, Carol. But I like to think I’m a man who would honour his wife and his vows.”

“And you haven’t found the right woman?” My God, what rapture for the right woman.

Was it her imagination or was there an odd stillness in the air? “Would you like to know I’ve found a possibility?” His dark gaze was quite unreadable.

“Not Amber Coleman, I hope?” That escaped her.

“Now now, Carol.” There was a sardonic glint in his brilliant eyes.

She bit her bottom lip. “Sorry. I should have backed off.”

“Amber and I are friends. Anyway, I’m in no rush to get married.”

“She is.” God, her tongue really was running away from her.

He walked to the door, an absolutely
beautiful
man. “I must go. I really enjoyed this evening, Carol. I hope you did, too.”

She followed him up, feeling doll-like in the presence of his height. “You know I did. Thank you so much, Damon.”

“It was my pleasure.” He dipped his dark head and very quickly kissed her cheek. “Good night now. I’ll ring you when I’ve gone through all your grandfather’s papers. He’s laid everything out on the line for you. Lew Hoffman wants to meet with you—your grandfather trusted him implicitly. He’s the new chairman and CEO, as you know. Lew’s a good man, very highly regarded. When you turn twenty-one you should take your place on the various boards. Marion Ellory is looking after the arts foundation. You will have to meet with her—no hurry. She knows what she’s about.”

“I have so much to learn.”

“Happily, you’ve got a first-class brain. You’re well informed and you have good instincts. That’s a lot, I’d say.”

Just a compliment, but it made her heart sing. “I want the Chancellor fortune used, Damon. I want to change people’s lives. I would like to add to my grandfather’s charitable foundations.”

He noted the seriousness of her expression. “I see no problem with that. You really do want to be part of it, don’t you?”

“I’m certainly not going to sit back and lead a useless life,” she told him. “My grandfather obviously expected me to shoulder responsibility. My father would have stepped into my grandfather’s shoes. Now, there’s only me. I must be like my father because I’m not in the least like my mother. She lives for the social world, the right functions, the right parties.”

He gave a slight grimace. “You’ll have to give the right parties along the way, Carol. You won’t be able to avoid it or live a
normal
life. You’re young, beautiful, clever, very rich. Formidable assets. Some people would say you’ve got it all.”

“Not
me,
” Carol said and meant it. “I’d like to lead a normal life. Then there’s the sad fact too much money does bad things to people and their lives. You know all about my family. Their dark side. How they treated me. God knows what they have in store for me. Troy has left messages for me. I don’t answer.”

“What exactly is he up to?” Damon heard himself asking too sharply.

“
He
knows. I don’t. I might not have acted that way but I was shocked when he tried to come on to me. He’s my cousin, for pity’s sake.”

“If he bothers you, you know where I am.”

“I think I can handle it, Damon. You’re doing enough already. I intend to keep my feet firmly on the ground. You have to trust me. I trust you. The giving and taking of it is important to me.”

His eyes involuntarily moved to her lovely mouth. He couldn’t look too long. His gaze shifted. “To me, too. That’s what I wanted to hear, Carol. Sleep tight. I’ll be in touch. If you have concerns about anything—any doubts, any fears—ring me. It doesn’t matter what time.”

“What if it’s inconvenient?” she asked and gave a little laugh. She was loath to think of him in bed with some beautiful girl.

“Then, too,” he said.

CHAPTER FOUR

T
HE
RUN
UP
to Christmas was hectic. She had long talks with all of her key people, almost family style, with everyone gathered around a conference table and coffee, sandwiches and Danish pastries were brought to them. Just as she had studied hard to get good results with her end-of-year exams, she now turned her attention to finding out as much as she could about The Chancellor Group and the several foundations her grandfather had caused to be set up. Her grandfather had been bred to big business. Her father and Uncle Maurice, as well. She had not. She did, however, have a good business brain, even better than she had supposed. Enough to impress her mentors, anyway. She really wanted to be effective. She had been given duties, big responsibilities, even if she had to remind herself of that from time to time when she was force-feeding herself a wealth of information that threatened to choke her.

Her task was
huge,
but it was a great comfort to her to know she had a powerhouse of support.

To take a little pressure off her and offer some benefits, Damon suggested she might like to visit the gym where he worked out. The owner, an ex-heavyweight boxer, Bill Keegan, was a friend. He would look after her.

“He’s a great guy.”

“I’ve heard of him,” Carol said. Jeff had been a big boxing fan. “You can’t be expecting me to lay into him?” she joked.

Damon’s answer was serious and to the point. “I believe every woman should be taught basic rules of self-defence, Carol.” It was a dangerous world out there. He didn’t stress that. But Carol, in her current position with so much media attention, could find herself a target for some loose cannon or someone seeking to snatch her bag. All right, she had security. He had seen to that. But he knew she found a bodyguard irksome. She was naturally adventurous. She could take risks. She had already, he had been advised, which was not unexpected. She didn’t need to know how to throw punches. But naturally light on her feet, she could learn how to score points, allow herself enough time for flight.

At first Carol didn’t know what to make of Damon’s suggestion. She didn’t think she would have much chance against just about any male. Men used their physical superiority to threaten and terrorise. Her friend Tracey had had plenty of experience of that. Tarik thankfully was out of the picture. A bit of a surprise there; Trace could be sadly weak.

Damon had taken her along to meet his friend, Bill Keegan, who had greeted her with a big smile.

“Don’t you laugh at me,” she said as he took in her size and weight, his bushy eyebrows raised.

“Would I dare?” He threw up huge hands. “Look, Ms Chancellor—”

“Carol, please.”

“I can help you, Carol,” he replied. “I can even show you how to throw a man. It’s not as hard as it sounds. Damon here is my friend. He’s a damned good boxer. No one as yet has managed to break his nose. I can show you easy moves at first. Then, if you stay focused, we can move on. You’re small, but you can still be an effective opponent. More women should come to me, then they wouldn’t be so vulnerable.”

His expression lightened. “Had a little lady come to me not so long back! Her husband used to pound her when he felt like it. Eventually she decided she had to learn to fight back. They’ve since split up, I’m happy to say. That was after she managed to inflict certain damage, all swingin’ elbows and fists and a good solid knee.” He laughed, well pleased.

In the end, she stayed well over an hour, talking to Bill, who had a fund of funny stories, while observing Damon going through his paces out of the corner of her eye. Stripped to a navy singlet and navy boxing shorts, he looked jaw-droppingly virile, his bronze skin gilded with sweat from the heat of his workout.

After that, she found herself looking forward to her twice-a-week sessions, fitting her timetable to Damon’s. Damon and Bill were right. She did feel more confident about handling herself, should she ever come under attack. She knew the communal car park in the basement of her building was as secure as could be, with lots of light and security cameras. But there were blind spots. She always cast her eye over the car park as she entered it, checking who was about. Car parks weren’t the best places.

Gary Prescott had left some twenty-odd notes in her mail box. They all asked the same thing: Would she have coffee with him? The first note assured her he was harmless. Note ten informed her his father’s girlfriend had moved out. Carol had thought she might have. She hadn’t seen her around and Prescott’s girlfriend had been hard to miss. Gary went on to tell her his father hadn’t returned home but he was hopeful his parents could work it out. His dad wasn’t really a bad guy. Married guys got into trouble all the time.

So did that mean a wife or girlfriend should expect it? Carol pondered. Some men thought little of casual sex, but Steve Prescott had installed his then-girlfriend in his luxurious penthouse. Not casual at all. Maybe Steve Prescott would change. Maybe he wouldn’t. She didn’t think she would like to put Gary’s father to the test.

* * *

Gary Prescott wasn’t the only one to suggest they meet up for coffee, though a lot of her former friends, sadly, backed off. It was as though in becoming the Chancellor heiress she existed on a different planet. Carol was determined not to change. There was harm in losing track of normal life.

“So how did you get hold of my phone number, Amber?” Carol asked when she picked up the phone and Amber Coleman identified herself. Her phone wasn’t in the book. It was an unlisted number.

“Why, Damon, of course,” Amber replied as though Carol was asking a silly question. “He knows he can trust me. You, too, Carol. I’d like to be your friend. I know you’re several years younger, but I’m sure we’ll have lots in common. You could always come to me if you needed advice—perhaps with your clothes, what to wear to what function, that sort of thing. A little bird told me you bought that lovely fuchsia gown you were wearing when Damon rewarded you with a celebratory dinner at Laura G. She has fabulous things.”

Didn’t people love to gossip? Gossip she could handle. But it upset her greatly to know Damon had given his on-and-off girlfriend her unlisted phone number. To add to it, he must have accounted to Amber for their dinner date as a reward for her scholarship.

Even gods have feet of clay.

She had no real knowledge of Damon Hunter. Certainly no intimate knowledge of him. Maybe falling in love made one stupid, blind to the object of one’s desire? Obviously she needed a few more years on her, a few more years of very necessary experience before she took on the love game. Suddenly she was beset by doubts and suspicions. She thought that might now be a given in her new life.

Amber Coleman had called to make a coffee date. From her manner, she had every expectation of Carol’s agreeing on a day soon. Damon’s betrayal hit hard. Not that she would have allowed Amber Coleman into her world. She knew they would have little in common.

Except Damon Hunter.

Carol declined, citing numerous appointments. Amber didn’t take that well. She couldn’t hide the pique. “You must have some free time. I checked with Damon.”

Is she trying to wind you up?

“Damon isn’t in charge of my appointment book, Amber. In fact, I have an appointment this morning. I mustn’t be late for it. Thank you for thinking of me, Amber. I’d like to know the name of your little bird. If it was Laura G, she won’t be seeing me again.”

Amber broke into a lavish denial. “No, no, no,
never
Laura, although one can always tell what comes out of her boutique. She has exquisite taste. Damon is my main man. He tells me everything. We’re very close, as you know.”

“No, I didn’t know, Amber. Thank you for telling me. Obviously I’m going to have a word with Damon about being so indiscreet, even with his closest lady friends.”

Carol’s brisk response was clearly unexpected. More lavish protests. “Carol, Damon is incredibly discreet, I assure you. He only shares little snippets with me. I never thought for a moment you’d
mind.
”

“Just watching my back, Amber,” Carol responded. “Have a wonderful day.”

She hung up, unsure what to do about this.

Bad as it was, forewarned was forearmed. Obviously she had been expecting much too much of Damon. Amber had upset her. At the same time, she had pressed home an important point—the only person she could really trust was herself. She knew lots of people would be digging into her life now. It was in her interests to put up a security wall. She could of course speak to Damon. On reflection, she thought she wouldn’t. Better to wait and see what else transpired.

* * *

A few days later with Christmas almost upon them she received a call from her Uncle Maurice. He had of course asked for her phone number and got it. It was family, after all, even if the family had ‘dysfunctional’ stamped on it.

“You’re coming down for Christmas, aren’t you, my dear?” he asked in his rich cultured voice. “We all want to make up for the past. It was my father, you know, who controlled us all. When you’re apportioning blame—and why wouldn’t you?—you could consider that. We do so want you to come. It’s your home, after all. You’ve been good enough to allow us to stay on. We’re grateful. This Christmas won’t be Christmas without you.”

For whatever reason her uncle was piling it on thick.

Watch your back.

* * *

“Are you mad?” Amanda shrieked when Carol told her. “They probably want you
dead.
Doesn’t it all revert to your uncle?”

“Yes, it does.”

“There you are, then,” Amanda said as though offering proof positive.

“Would you like to come to Beaumont with me? Your parents are still in Scotland.”

“You’re serious. You
are
serious?” Amanda looked ecstatic at the thought.

“Of course I’m serious. There’s tons of room and you can be the one to—”

“I know—
watch your back.
Gosh, this is great news, Caro. I know Em was getting around to asking me to join her and her family, but a visit to Beaumont! Wow!”

So that was settled. There was a time when she had planned on asking Damon to come down for a day or two, make it sound like a fun time—bring someone with him, if he liked.
Not
Amber Coleman; she had voiced her views on Amber Coleman. Maybe another girlfriend? She had seen the glossy photographs. Now she had to withhold that invitation, though it cost her some pain-filled moments, like one of her little heart strings had snapped. Life was full of sad moments.

Better get used to it.

She was used to it. They all were.

The Chancellors weren’t happy people. They didn’t even pretend to be.

* * *

The minute she saw him walk into the boardroom, she wavered, half-drugged by the wave of heat in her blood. She could feel the plash in her veins. Her whole being was crying out for his attention.

Pathetic. You’re pathetic, girl.

Actually, she was amazed how this had all started. Damon Hunter had changed her life.

“Carol!” He acknowledged her with his beautiful heart-breaking smile. He came around to her, bending his raven head to kiss her lightly on the cheek. They had reached that stage in a remarkably short time. So far as she observed, no one appeared to find the gesture any way out of the ordinary. She was after all only twenty years of age and her lack of height reinforced her aura of youth. Occasionally she got a “teacher’s pet” feeling. There was enough evidence to support the fact her key people had all grown protective of her, male and female alike. She didn’t understand that her team had come not only to like her—she was totally without any side—they admired her as well for her intelligence, her admirable goals and the amount of hard work she had to put in to halfway match them.

They had come together to discuss the development of a huge building site only recently secured following demolition of the old building. Architects and engineers sat around the table. Since he had taken over the administration of Carol’s trust, Damon had been voted onto the Chancellor Group board, a huge step up even for him. Clearly this had been Selwyn Chancellor’s intention. At intervals Damon gave her a half smile across the table. One of the engineers was as good as bullying his partner into agreeing to a plan he had put forth. Finally, with the last word coming from Lew Hoffman by way of an excellent suggestion by Damon, a compromise was reached.

Carol said her goodbyes, preparing to walk to the bank of lifts, when Damon caught her up.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” He had felt the negative vibes, surprised and not a little thrown by them. He valued Carol’s good opinion and the bond they had formed. No one could possibly question he wasn’t doing his very best for her, but knew he had a lot of eyes on him. Some would be happy to break the strong lawyer-client bond. He knew he had the entire situation under control and he was one hundred per cent committed to giving his all to Carol Chancellor, his client, and Carol Chancellor, his friend. Or so he had hoped.

She tilted her face to him. No one was ever going to eclipse him, she thought drearily. “I’m so sorry, Damon, did you want me for something?”

He stared down into her softly flushed face. She was wearing a sleeveless silk dress in a shade of cobalt that made a dazzle of her eyes. “What’s the matter? Clearly something is.”

“An open book, am I?” Was her unexpectedly sharp reply.

“Carol, I always check to see you’re okay.”

“Well, I’m fine, Damon.” She gave him her best smile.

It didn’t fool him one bit. “A little testy, perhaps? If there’s anything bothering you, you should tell me about it.”

One of the lifts arrived. The door opened. He took her elbow as they both stepped in. Damon pressed a button and the lift began its smooth, silent descent.

She’d had no intention of bringing up the reasons for her upset. But too much adrenaline was pumping through her. It blew the lid. Once started, she swiftly found she was out of control. “Why ever did you give out my phone number to Amber Coleman?”