The Inheritance: Anything He Craves

The
Inheritance: Anything He Craves

(A Billionaire
Erotic Romance)

Copyright 2012
by Terry Towers

Smashwords
Edition

Cover by: Terry
Towers

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without the written permission of the author Terry Towers. Saint
John, New Brunswick, Canada. Terry Towers can be contacted via her
website at www.elixaeverett.com

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This book is a
work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or
places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters
are productions of the authors imagination and used
fictitiously.

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.

"I'm so sorry
Angelica; my hands are tied on this."

Angelica
Lawson sighed as she looked across the desk at her Uncle Clayton,
her grief stricken blue eyes meeting his sympathetic brown ones.
Uncle Clayton was the brother of her recently deceased father,
Richard Lawson. He was now the executer of her late father's
estate, which equalled a hefty sum of 2.3 billion dollars. Her
mother had died after a year long battle with cancer two years ago
and now she'd just lost her father in a fatal car crash. With both
her parents dead, twenty-two year old Angelica was left alone with
her Uncle Clayton being her only known living relative.

"But who is
this... this... Logan Sinclair? And why in the name of God would he
want me to get to know the man, much less live with him for a
month!" It simply made no sense to her. No sense at all. And by the
look on her uncle's face she doubted she was going to like the
reasoning behind it.

Clayton
steeped his fingers under her chin and shook his head slowly. "I
told Richard to tell you about Logan years ago. Begged him even.
But for whatever reason he wanted to keep this a secret. Logan is,
in a way, your brother... Well, of sorts. But not really..."
Clayton sighed. Opening the top drawer of his desk he pulled out a
bottle of aspirin, opened it up, shook a couple into his hand and
tossed them into his mouth chasing them down with some water.

"What!" She
shook her head, her shoulder length blonde hair fanning out around
her. "No, dad wouldn't have kept that from me and mom."

"Your mother
knew,
Angel." Clayton reached across the large oak desk and
covered her hand with his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Richard
was briefly married before he met and married your mother. He left
his first wife for your mother actually."

"But, I-" Her
head was spinning. How could they have kept something this big from
her? She had always thought their little family was close. She
thought her parents respected and cared for her enough to tell her
everything. It just made no sense. "So Logan is his son?"

Clayton
shrugged. "Yes and no. Richard's first wife couldn't conceive a
child so they adopted Logan when he was five - which makes him
twenty-eight now. But, Richard wanted a
biological
child; he
kept saying he couldn't establish a bond with Logan. Not the kind
of father- son bond he'd been wanting. So he met your mother, got a
quick divorce and went on with his life."

"I just
can't..." Her father had always been such a great man, it seemed so
unlike him. How could he have abandoned them like that? It seemed
so cold. Completely unlike the Richard Lawson she called her
father.

"I'm sorry
Angelica, but it's true. I think this is his way of trying to make
up for what he felt was a selfish act. He didn't want you to be
without a family, aside from me, and I think he wanted to make it
up to Logan, in his own way."

"Okay, so I am
entitled to nothing until I can convince Logan to leave his home,
and live in the manor with me for a month?"

"I'm sorry
sweetheart, but you can't even move back into the manor until he's
agreed to move with you and all you have to live off of is the
money in
your
bank account."

Terror rushed
through her. Her bank account was seriously depleted. She had
enough money to pay for her penthouse for exactly one month. She
usually just used credit cards, but being that they were all under
her fathers name, they were also now off limits. It seemed bizarre,
but then again, in the will - Logan was entitled to half of the
inheritance, so what person in their right mind would turn down
over a billion dollars when all they needed to do was move into a
multi-million dollar mansion for a month. Shit, she imagined he'd
be falling over himself to get moved in.

Angelica
sighed loudly and shrugged. "Alright Uncle Clayton. Tell me where
to find him and I'll convince him to move into the manor."

The
sympathetic smile returned as Clayton straightened in his chair and
jotted down the address to her sort-of brother on a slip of
letterhead and then passed it to her. "Good luck Angel."

Good
luck?
What a strange choice of words. She shook the thoughts of
fear from her mind. Considering the emotional trauma she'd been
through recently she was sure she was just imagining his
apprehension.

****

"Wow." As
Angelica pulled her silver Mercedes up to the curb of the building
where Logan resided, she was impressed. It was nicer than the
building she lived in. It was situated in Manhattan, next to
Central Park and one of the highest buildings around, the top floor
reaching up into the clouds. At least it appeared that way looking
up from inside her car. A knock on her window from the valet pulled
her from her shocked state. Turning off the car, she opened the
door and slid out passing the keys to the young, freckled,
red-haired valet in exchange for a valet ticket.

As he pulled
away she made her way into the building and the lobby was equally
as impressive. The decor Victorian in nature and screaming out
wealth.
My God!
Had her father been supporting Logan all
these years? How else could he afford to live in such an
extravagant place at such a young age?
Maybe he's shacked up
with some wealthy cougar
. She chuckled to herself at the
idea.

After she
pressed the call button for the elevator, it dinged and the doors
opened. Inside was an elevator attendant, who gave her a smile and
curt nod of the head. "Which floor Ma'am?"

Shit?
Which floor? She chewed at her lower lip. The address Clayton had
given her only had the street address. With a shrug she gave him an
embarrassed smile. "Logan Sinclair."

"Thank you
Ma'am." The attendant pressed the button for the highest floor, the
elevator doors closed and she found herself barrelling skyward, the
floor numbers lighting as they rose higher and higher. Less than a
minute later the elevator dinged again and the doors slid open
displaying a large foyer with a set of mahogany double doors at the
end. "Have a good evening Ma'am."

"Thank you,"
she called over her shoulder walking up to the doors.

He has the
whole floor to himself. Holy shit!

She hesitated,
her French manicured index finger poised over the doorbell. She was
actually feeling butterflies in her stomach. She'd been so
confident coming down here, thinking that this would be easy, but
if he was able to afford this place without the assistance of her
father then maybe convincing him to move into the manor would be a
little trickier than she originally expected.

Taking a shaky
breath in, she pressed the buzzer and waited. It was 6pm on a
Saturday night so there was the possibility that he wasn't home.
She hadn't considered that on her four hour drive into Manhattan
from her home in Boston. But she gave herself a little slack, she
hadn't been thinking too clearly since her father's unexpected
death, so this was a slight oversight.

She pressed
the buzzer again and waited. She was about to turn and leave when
the door was flung open, to present a man she presumed to be Logan
Sinclair, wearing a pair of black boxers and nothing else.
Holy
fuck, that's Logan!
"I... Ummm."

Her eyes
dropped to his bare feet and slowly worked their way up his firm,
muscular calves, to his thick powerful thighs. Without meaning to
her eyes paused at the front of his boxers and she could feel a
blush creeping into her cheeks as she took notice of the sizable
bulge under the thin material of the shorts. Giving her head a
quick shake she took in his perfect eight pack abdominals, lean
torso and broad hairless chest until they reached his forest green
eyes. He looked like he's just out of an underwear ad, he was
that
gorgeous.

A smile tugged
at his lips as he raised a brow at her. "Can I help you with
something? Lost perhaps?" His voice was deep, satiny smooth and
sexy in its own right.

Damn! Well,
hello Logan Sinclair!

****

Logan looked
down at the young woman who was close, but not quite, a foot
shorter than his 6'4 build in front of him with amusement. He
hadn't missed the pause she made at his crotch as her eyes examined
every inch of his body, nor did he miss the embarrassed blush that
quickly followed. She was
girl next door
cute in her button
fly blue jeans and white blouse and he liked it.

Crossing his
arms over his chest, he leaned his shoulder against the door jab
and continued to wait patiently for her to get over her stammering
and finally get to the point of her visit. She had him baffled, she
had an elegant air to her screaming refinement and class, despite
the casual attire, but
so
nervous.

"Am I supposed
to be guessing, cause it may take a while if I have to?" he
teased.

"This was a
bad idea," she murmured, about to turn.

Logan caught
her upper arm, stopping her. "Nah, go ahead. What do you need?"

She sighed
loudly and ran a shaky hand though her hair. "My name is Angelica
Lawson."

She gave him a
wry smile. "I'm the daughter-"

His mood
immediately darkened and he released her arm as if he'd been burnt.
"I know who you are and I want you to leave." He began to close the
door on her, but she stepped forward and placed a hand on the door,
stopping him.

"Wait. You
do?" She closed her eyes, took a deep breath in, released it and
opened them back up, her eyes pleading with him. "I really need to
talk to you. Please. Just a minute or two... Please."

The thought of
his adoptive father made his blood boil. And he had just didn’t
have much patience or use for the child his adoptive father chose
over him – he wanted nothing to do with either of them. "I have
nothing to say to you. Leave now or I will call security and have
you escorted from the property."

She refused to
budge. "Please. Just five minutes."

"No." He
attempted to close the door once more, but she once again stopped
him.

"Dad's dead,"
she blurted, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Ahhh
fuck
. He had no remorse for the man that abandoned him and his
adoptive mother roughly twenty years ago, or the members of his new
family. Logan was a man who held grudges and didn't apologize for
it. But at the same time his weakness was seeing a woman -
any
woman - cry.