The Wager

“She could have walked away from him. And he could have left her alone.”

“You don’t know what it’s like to be in love, really in love, the way they were,” her uncle told her. “That type of love, it doesn’t happen for everyone. If you’re lucky, it might find you once. And when it does, it grabs you by the throat and takes charge of your heart and soul, and it refuses to let go.” The smile he gave her was fleeting. “Even if you’re able to walk away from it, how you feel about the other person doesn’t change. You don’t stop loving him or her. Juliet and Drew could no more have stopped loving each other than you or I could stop an earthquake from happening. Your mother was in love with Drew, and he was in love with her.”

“Then why didn’t they do the right thing? Why didn’t he break his engagement and marry my mother if he loved her so much?”

Paul rubbed a hand across his brow as though his head were aching. “It was complicated. The Jardine family is an old, distinguished family in New Orleans. Things were done differently in the South, particularly back then. Drew couldn’t just break off his engagement because he’d fallen in love with your mother. There were other people who had to be considered, other families whose livelihoods were dependent upon his marriage to Adrienne.”

“You make it sound like a business merger.”

“In many ways it was. Drew’s family was in the hotel business and so were the Duboises—Adrienne’s family.”

That bit of news came as a shock to Laura. Then she remembered the newspaper clippings with the photo of Andrew Jardine accepting an award in front of a hotel. A shudder went through Laura as she thought of the career she’d chosen in hotel management. Had her mother encouraged her interest because she’d known about the Jardine family’s business? Or had her choice of profession served as a painful reminder to her mother of the man she had loved and lost? Either option left Laura feeling sick inside.

“Drew was an only child with a widowed mother. He had responsibilities to her, to the other members of his family, to the people who worked for them. He couldn’t just walk away from those responsibilities.”

“So he walked away from his responsibility to my mother instead.”

Her uncle shook his head. “It wasn’t like that. He wrote to his mother, telling her about Juliet, that he loved her and wanted to break his engagement to Adrienne. Naturally, his mother was upset. Adrienne and Drew had grown up together, had been childhood sweethearts. Her parents were old friends and Olivia Jardine, your grandmother…”

A shiver went through Laura as she heard the woman referred to as her grandmother. She’d never had a grandmother. And though she’d often wished her mother had had an extended family, she didn’t want one now—not this way.

“…Olivia loved Adrienne like a daughter, and Juliet…well, your mother was a stranger and not even from the South. Olivia insisted Drew come home to discuss the situation before he did anything. So he did as she asked. He went back to New Orleans, and then he sent for Juliet.”

“What happened?” Laura asked, her curiosity overriding her hurt and disappointment.

“I’m not really sure. Neither Juliet nor Drew ever told me exactly what went down.”

They didn’t need to because she had a pretty good idea of what had transpired, Laura decided. Olivia Jardine hadn’t wanted anything to do with her son’s bastard child. Had her father wanted her? she wondered. Obviously, he hadn’t. She had been a mistake, the unexpected result of his fling with her mother. The realization left her feeling hollow inside. Turning away, Laura spied the clipping on the table of her father and his children. And as she looked at the photo of the Jardine family, Laura thought of her own life, all the years she had ached to know him, to be loved by him.

“Only your mother and Drew know what happened and why Juliet came back from New Orleans alone.”

“Unfortunately, they’re gone now and can’t tell us,” she said, her voice hoarse with the effort it took not to cry. “But here I am—their shameful mistake.”

“Your mother was never ashamed of you. She never considered you a mistake.”

“Somehow I doubt that the Jardine family would agree with her.”

Two

New Orleans, Louisiana

“It’s about time you showed up.”

Handing his coat to the houseman, Josh Logan glanced across the elegant parlor at Olivia Jardine. Despite the business rivalry between their families that spanned more than half a century, Josh admired the crusty old gal. “Good afternoon to you, too, Duchess.”

“Don’t call me by that ridiculous name,” Olivia reprimanded, pinning him with crystal-blue eyes that belied her eighty-one years. “I dislike it. And I dislike to be kept waiting. I called you over an hour ago.”

“And I came as soon as I could,” Josh countered as he made his way over to the iron-willed woman who had been at the helm of the Royal Princess Hotel for as long as he could remember. Even seated in the wheelchair, Olivia Jardine remained a formidable figure. With her head held high, her spine straight and diamonds winking at her ears, she reminded him of a queen. The royal moniker he’d tagged her with twenty years ago when he’d been a brash teenager still fit her perfectly. He could almost understand how a fiery, younger Olivia had managed to ensnare his grand-father’s youthful heart. But to this day, he still didn’t understand how Simon Logan had let his feelings for Olivia cost him the Princess Hotel.

“Considering your interest in the Princess, I’d have thought you’d be more eager to meet with me.”

Josh’s heart stopped, then started again at the mention of the Princess Hotel. It had been because he was so eager that he had deliberately waited after receiving Olivia’s summons. “I’m always eager to see you,” he said smoothly. “And as I said, I came as soon as I could.”

Olivia arched her brow. “Your grandfather could charm the skin off of a snake with his pretty words. I see you’ve inherited his charm as well as his looks.” Leaning forward slightly, she stared at his face out of eyes that seemed to measure him. “Tell me, Joshua. Have you inherited Simon’s spirit of adventure as well? Or do you shy away from taking risks?”

Josh smiled at the challenge in her voice and considered some of the more outlandish deals he’d pulled off over the years for Logan Hotels. “Oh, I’ve been known to take a risk or two,” he said evenly. “Of course, the prize would have to be worth the risk.”

“I assume you’d consider the Princess a suitable prize?” she asked smoothly.

Yes! Josh wanted to shout the word aloud, to pump his fist in the air. He did neither. And though it took every ounce of control he possessed, he managed not to give any hint of the excitement humming in his blood. This was it. The moment he had looked forward to for more than half of his thirty-three years—making good on his promise to his grandfather to reclaim the Princess Hotel.

As though it were only yesterday instead of almost twenty years ago, he remembered standing inside the lobby of the Princess with his grandfather….

“If only you could have known how it felt to own her, Josh, my lad. To see this vision in your head take shape, to watch mortar and glass and brick come together, to see the dream you’ve carried inside you come to life and create this thing of beauty. Ah, and she was a beauty, my Princess—even before I lost her to Livvy and she fancied her up with those antiques and expensive whatnots. All a body had to do was walk through her doors, stand on these polished marble floors in the lobby to know it, too. One look up at those crystal chandeliers gleaming like giant diamonds or a whiff of those pretty flowers stuffed in the giant urns, and a person felt like he was royalty. That’s why I named her the Princess.”

“Let’s buy her back,” Josh urged.

“Oh, I’d like to, lad. Believe me, I’d like to. It’s been my dream for as long as I can remember. But I’m afraid Livvy won’t sell her. I’ve asked more than once, but she loves the Princess as much as I do. No, I’m afraid the Princess is lost to us.”

“But it should be yours. You built her,” Josh argued.

“Aye, I did, lad. But I lost her fair and square. She belongs to Livvy now—not to us Logans.”

“I’ll get the Princess back for you, Granddad. I swear I will. Someday she’ll belong to the Logans again. I promise.”

And that day had finally arrived. The rumors had been circulating for months in the business community that the old luxury hotel was taking financial hits in the fiercely competitive New Orleans market. The fact that Olivia was slowing down and had refused to turn over the reins to anyone had made selling the property the logical thing to do, Josh reasoned. Olivia Jardine was a shrewd businesswoman—shrewd enough to know that the only person likely to pay her top dollar for the aging hotel was the family of the man who’d lost it to her in that crazy bet fifty-six years ago.

“Am I to assume from your silence that you consider the Princess worthy of a few risks?”

“Given my most recent offer to buy the place, I think you already know the answer to that. I take it you’ve had a chance to review the offer?”

“I glanced at it,” she said, her tone noncommital, her expression inscrutable. She maneuvered her wheelchair over to the antique table and pointed to the chair opposite hers. “Do sit down, Joshua. I’m getting a crick in my neck looking up at you.”

Josh did as she instructed and took the seat across from her. “It’s a good offer.”

“It’s a fair offer,” she corrected him. “Tell me, Joshua. Just how badly do you want the Princess?”

“Bad enough to pay you more than it’s worth, but not enough to kill you for it.”

Her mouth twitched, and for a moment Josh thought she might actually smile. She didn’t. Instead she said, “I appreciate your honesty. It’s one of the things I’ve always liked about you.”

“Thank you,” Josh said, eager to end this cat-and-mouse game that Olivia was playing with him.

“So I’ll be equally honest with you. I have no intention of selling the Princess.”

Her words hit him like a sucker punch, and he had to bite back the oath on the tip of his tongue. Reminding himself of his first rule in negotiating with an opponent—to never reveal what he was feeling—Josh managed to keep his expression neutral while frustration churned inside him like acid. It was a skill that he’d honed in his eight years as head of acquisitions for Logan Hotels and one that had paid off handsomely for him and his family. He’d dealt with tougher negotiators than Olivia Jardine and for hotels of far greater value. Yet when it came to the Princess, the very first hotel built by Simon Logan, it was difficult not to let his emotions come into play. The Princess had always been more than brick and mortar and stone to him, Josh admitted. He’d fallen in love with the place as a boy while listening to his grandfather’s stories. To see the Logan Hotels banner flying over the Princess again had been his dream for as long as he could remember. And, once again, that dream remained just out of reach.

“You have a good poker face. I’ll give you that.”

“Are we playing poker, Duchess?”

“In a manner of speaking.” She paused. “But before we go over the rules of this particular game, I could use a brandy. Why don’t you pour us each a glass?”

Josh did as she asked, filling the heavy crystal glasses with the expensive vintage while he reined in his emotions. After he handed Olivia her glass, she took a sip, then leaned back in her chair.

The urge to toss back the brandy was so strong, Josh deliberately drank slowly, savoring the bite of the liquor and wanting to wash away the taste of disappointment in his mouth. When he reclaimed his seat, his emotions were in check once more. Deciding there was no point in pushing Olivia, he remained silent and waited for her to continue the game.

“I’m sure by now you’ve heard the rumors that the Princess is losing money.”

He had. Despite the size of the city, New Orleans remained very much a small town in many respects. There was little that went on in the business or personal lives of its more prominent citizens that stayed a secret for long. And the Jardines had always been news makers. “I’ve heard the Princess has been feeling the pinch from the competition.”

Olivia snorted. “You and I both know that the Princess has been feeling more than a pinch. I’ve lost a small fortune keeping the doors open this past year alone. And I’m sure you also know that my family and financial advisers believe I should sell it.”

“Maybe they’re right, Duchess. I’ve offered you a good price. Why don’t we save ourselves some time and dispense with the game-playing. Just tell me straight-out what price tag you’ve set on her.”

All humor faded in an instant. “There isn’t a price tag,” she told him. “The Princess is not for sale. At least not at this time.”

“But—”

“Hear me out,” she said, lifting her hand.

Josh nodded, settled back in his seat.

“When your grandfather built the Princess it was with the intention that she become the grand lady of New Orleans. After Simon…lost her to me in that foolish bet, I made sure that she lived up to his dream. I turned her into the finest hotel in this city,” she told him, an intense light in her eyes. “I want to see the Princess returned to her throne, Joshua. Once I see that happen, I’ll turn over the reins.”

Josh couldn’t help it. Hope stirred in his blood again. “If it’s help you need, I can recommend a good management company, put together a team for you and help you turn the place around before you sell it to me.”

Olivia shook her head. “I don’t want some stranger running the Princess. From the day your grandfather signed her over to me, she’s been run by a Jardine.”

Josh sighed. “Katie told me she offered to take over running it for you months ago, and you turned her down.”

“Katherine already has her hands full running the Regent. And before you suggest Alison, it’s out of the question. She has enough on her plate taking care of her daughter and helping her sister.”

“And Mitch isn’t an option,” Josh added, referring to Olivia’s grandson.

“Mitchell made it clear years ago that he wasn’t interested in the hotel business. Besides, it appears his security business is doing quite nicely.”

“That leaves Adrienne.”

“My daughter-in-law would be the first one to tell you that she’s far too busy with her charities and social functions to even consider working at the hotel, let alone trying to manage it,” Olivia informed him.

“The only other Jardine left is you,” Josh pointed out.

She sighed. “And as much as I hate to admit it, I’m getting too old to deal with the daily demands of running the hotel.”

“Which brings us back to my suggestion—bring in an outside manager to get the hotel back on its feet before you sell it to me. It’s your only option.”

“Not necessarily,” Olivia told him. “There is another alternative—one that would keep operation of the Princess in Jardine hands.”

His curiosity piqued, Josh couldn’t shake the feeling that the old gal was up to something that he wasn’t going to like. “Do you intend to tell me who this mysterious Jardine relative is, or am I supposed to guess?”

“My granddaughter. Or I suppose I should say, my other granddaughter.”

“All right. You’ve got my attention, Duchess,” Josh said. “You care to explain that?”

“It’s quite simple. I have a fourth grandchild.”

Before Josh had time to recover from the shock of that statement, Olivia continued, “Recently I learned that Andrew has another child. A daughter, the result of a…a liaison that Andrew had with a young nurse in San Diego before his marriage to Adrienne.”

Speechless, Josh could only stare at her. A Jardine with a child out of wedlock? While the rest of the world might have entered the new millennium, in this tight-knit corner of the South the moral climate remained stalled in another century—particularly when it concerned a member of one of the city’s most prominent families. The social mores simply didn’t allow for an admission to anything as potentially scandalous as the existence of a love child. And while, personally, he didn’t give a damn what the city’s holier-than-thou upper-crust members thought or wrote about him in their gossip columns, Olivia Jardine did care. She always had. A member of the city’s old guard, she lived by a different set of rules. So did most people in her circle. And Olivia had always insisted her family toe the line of responsibility that came with their good name. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t expect you to say anything. For now, I’d just like you to listen.”

But as he listened, Josh couldn’t figure out why on earth Olivia had decided to tell him about what must surely be a great embarrassment for her. Nor could he believe that she could seriously be considering bringing this supposed granddaughter into the family fold.

“The girl’s name is Laura Harte. She’s twenty-eight and lives in San Francisco. She works for a hotel there as an assistant general manager.”

“She’s in the hotel business?” Josh asked, and wondered at the odds of Olivia’s illegitimate grandchild being in the same field of business. More than likely, the girl had been steered into that particular career direction by a clever mother with eyes on the Jardine fortune, he decided. Otherwise, he’d have to chalk up the ironic twist of fate as a coincidence. And he didn’t believe in coincidences.

“I understand your reaction. I had a similar one when I first heard,” she explained, evidently detecting his skepticism. “That’s why I hired a private investigator and had her checked out. Here’s a copy of the report.”

Intrigued and still unsure why Olivia was telling him all this, Josh picked up the file she’d slid across the table. Opening it, he shuffled through the paperwork. Quickly he scanned the detective reports, birth certificate, old school and employment records. But when he came to the photograph, he paused. With four beautiful sisters and a healthy appreciation for the feminine gender in general, he was no stranger to striking women and had been involved with more than a few.

Laura Harte was definitely a striking woman.

It was her hair, he reasoned. The color of a summer sunset—dark flame shot with gold. The wild color seemed at odds with the no-nonsense style she’d chosen. And there was something about the angle of that stubborn chin that reminded him of Olivia. So did that in-your-face confidence he read in her blue eyes. Then there was her mouth. It was too wide for her narrow face, he reasoned. But her smile…her smile was part siren, part angel, he decided, and felt the inexplicable tug of desire. This was crazy, he told himself, whooshing out a breath as he dropped the folder back onto the table top. Definitely not his type. He liked petite blondes with curves—not tall, skinny redheads.

“The girl lost her mother a couple of months ago,” Olivia told him. “According to the information I received, she’s only recently learned the truth about who her father was.”

“It’s an interesting story and I’m glad that you felt you could share it with me. You have my word that I won’t say anything.”

“I never thought you would. But sooner or later, the word will get out.”

“Not from me,” Josh assured her. “But what I don’t understand is why you told me? You’ve apparently already made up your mind to have this Laura Harte take over operation of the Princess.”

“I told you because I need you,” Olivia informed him, an odd note in her voice. “In fact, my entire plan hinges on you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. I need you to go to San Francisco and meet with my granddaughter and convince her to come to New Orleans to meet her father’s family.”

Caught off guard by the request, Josh asked, “But why me? I mean, it would seem more appropriate to send a family member. Maybe Mitch or Katie or even Alison? After all, this woman is their sister.”

“Half sister,” Olivia corrected him. “They don’t even know the girl exists yet. And when they find out, I’m not sure they’ll welcome the news.”

She was probably right, Josh realized. As Olivia’s heirs, the Jardine siblings stood to inherit a fortune. Regardless of how sizable the inheritance, the sudden appearance of another sister would mean a cut in the others’ shares. Josh took another swallow of his brandy, felt the smooth heat at the back of his throat and tried to imagine how he would feel if he were Mitch, Katie or Alison. How would he feel if he were to learn that he had another sister who was the result of an affair his father had had years before with another woman? Try as he might, the idea refused to compute. Probably because he still had both of his parents, and they were clearly in love with each other. On the other hand, the Jardine trio had lost their father years ago. Knowing how much they had all worshiped the man, Josh suspected the news that their father had had feet of clay would not be welcome—especially not by Katie. Of Andrew’s three children, Katie had been the one closest to her father. “When do you plan to tell them?”

“When the time is right. In the meantime, I need you to go to San Francisco and convince Laura to come to New Orleans.”

Josh shook his head. “You don’t need me, Duchess. Considering the state’s forced heirship laws, this Laura Harte stands to inherit a fortune as your granddaughter someday, as well as a portion of her father’s estate. My guess is one phone call from you telling her that will be all the convincing that she’ll need.”

“I did call her, and the girl informed me that she’d been well provided for in her mother’s will and that she had no need or interest in the Jardine money. She also said she had no interest in meeting me or in establishing any type of relationship with her father’s other children.”

“Obviously she’s not nearly as bright as those reports indicated.”

“Or perhaps she’s smart enough to realize that material wealth isn’t nearly as important as most people believe.”

For a moment Josh thought he saw pain flicker in Olivia’s eyes. Despite the headaches this woman’s refusal to sell the Princess had caused him over the years, he couldn’t help but feel sad for her. Growing up in a family far less reserved than the Jardines, Josh didn’t stop to consider his action. He simply reached across the desk and squeezed Olivia’s fingers. “Whatever her reasons for refusing, the loss is hers, Duchess. She could have learned a great deal from you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, and withdrew her hand. She straightened her shoulders, her expression as stern as her voice, then said, “But I have no intention of accepting her refusal. That’s why I’m sending you to San Francisco, so you can convince her to come.”

Josh shook his head. “Count me out, Duchess. This is a family matter. I’m not about to get involved. Maybe you can send one of your attorneys and let him or her explain to Miss Harte exactly what it is she’s saying no to.”

“I want you to go, Joshua.”

“Duchess—”

“I want your opinion of the girl.”

“Why? It looks to me like you’ve already checked her out thoroughly,” he told her, motioning to the file folder.

She dismissed the report with a wave of her hand. “I’m not interested in the opinion of some overpriced detective or lawyer who will candy-coat things and tell me what they think I want to hear.” She leaned forward. “I want your opinion.”

“I appreciate your confidence in me,” he said, and meant it. “But I don’t see what my meeting her could possibly tell you that you don’t already know.”

“Modesty doesn’t suit you any better than it did your grandfather, Joshua. I’ve heard you have very good instincts when it comes to people. I want to know if my granddaughter has inherited more than the Jardine eyes. I want to know if she’s got the grit of a Jardine and can be trusted with the Princess.”

Because he didn’t know what to say, Josh remained silent.

“Will you do it? Will you go to San Francisco and convince Laura to come to New Orleans?”