The Heiress

Grace sat down and spread her napkin across her lap. “I didn’t get anywhere with him, either.”

“So he’s still on the yacht.” Chase returned to his own seat after helping Grace with her chair.

Grace nodded at both Bridgett and Chase, marveling again at how happy—how very much in love—they looked. “Yes,” she said quietly. “But you’ll be relieved to know that your father’s not drinking so much as brooding.” Feeling sorry for himself, angry at the world, at her.

Chase scowled as he opened the menu. “I’d go try and talk to him myself but I want to slug him.”

Having already decided what she wanted—the crab soup and a salad—Grace closed her menu wearily. Chase was her strongest defender, as well as her first-born and oldest son, but in this case he was also dead wrong. She regarded her son steadily and said, “This isn’t your fight, Chase. It’s mine.”

Chase clenched his jaw, at that moment looking very much like his incredibly strong-willed and stubborn father. “Wrong, Mom.” Fierce resentment gleamed in Chase’s slate-blue eyes. “When Dad betrayed you, he betrayed the whole family.”

Grace sighed and shook her head. “You still have to forgive him,” she advised calmly.

“Why?” Chase challenged. “You obviously haven’t, and it’s been what—more than twenty years now?”

What could Grace say to that? It was true. All these years and she hadn’t been able to put it out of her mind, hadn’t been able to believe Tom’s stepping out on her was merely a cry for help. But what if she’d been wrong? What if Tom’s lovemaking with Iris was as emotionally unsatisfying as her tryst with Paulo had been? Had she thrown it all away, refused to ever trust Tom again, for nothing?

CHARLOTTE WAS in the library, updating her social calendar on the computer Iris had given her and taught her how to use, when Richard walked in. He’d spent the afternoon playing tennis at the club, but was now dressed in his customary suit and tie. Knowing now was as good a time as any, Charlotte broached the subject that had been on her mind constantly for days, before he could leave for that evening’s dinner-meeting with their accountant.

“I want to hire a private detective to locate Daisy.”

The look in his eyes becoming pure resentment, Richard’s jaw clenched. “It’s out of the question.”

“Why?” Gearing up for battle, Charlotte saved the data she had just entered and watched as Richard opened the wall safe in the library. “We can afford it.” The growing success of the family antiques business, and their financial stake in it, had seen to that.

Richard released a long breath and turned to Charlotte in exasperation, “Daisy will come home when she’s ready.”

Would she? Charlotte wondered. “She’s been gone for days now,” Charlotte pointed out, unwilling and unable to suppress her worry. “We haven’t heard a word from her.”

“Which, given her likely mood, is probably just as well.” Richard moved the handgun and box of ammunition he insisted they keep for their personal safety to one side and withdrew a fat envelope of cash. He took out a number of bills and returned the envelope to the safe, setting it on top of Charlotte’s jewelry case and copies of their insurance papers, wills and real estate deeds. “Right now, Daisy is behaving like a temperamental child.” Richard shut the door to the safe, covered it with the painting and slid the money into his wallet before looking at Charlotte once again. “And I for one am glad Daisy is not here misbehaving for all our friends to see.”

“I still want to find her,” Charlotte retorted steadily.

“And I still say no.”

Richard gave Charlotte a look to let her know the conversation was closed, then exited the room. Seconds later, the front door shut behind him. The big house was cloaked in silence.

Charlotte stared at the photos of family that decorated the shelves to the right of the heavy antique desk. She didn’t know when or why or even how it happened, but the truth was indisputable now. Somewhere along the way, she had failed both her daughters. Perhaps even their son, Connor, too. During the crisis of Iris’s pregnancy, Charlotte had been so certain she and Richard were doing the right thing, keeping the affair and pregnancy from ten-year-old Connor, and sending Iris to that austere convent in Switzerland to have her baby in secret. Iris hadn’t wanted to go, hadn’t wanted to give Daisy up, but Charlotte and Richard had worked together to convince Iris that her life—indeed, all their lives—would be ruined if she didn’t do as they said.

In return, Charlotte had promised Iris that she and Richard would love Daisy and bring her up as their own. Iris would never have to worry or wonder what had happened to her baby—she would be able to see Daisy every day because they would grow up as sisters. And Charlotte had kept her promise. She had loved Daisy every bit as much as she had loved her own two children, if not more. But she had also known in her heart of hearts that Daisy was her first—maybe her only—grandchild. And consequently, she had tended to be too lenient with Daisy, as grandparents were wont to do. Whereas Richard had gone the other way and been too strict. Poor Daisy had been caught in the middle from day one, as their adopted daughter. No wonder she’d floundered around and felt there was something amiss. Because, Charlotte thought fiercely, there had been.

Now, Daisy knew the truth.

She knew they had all lied to her.

And she couldn’t forget and she couldn’t forgive.

Was Daisy ever going to come home? Charlotte wondered.

And what would she do when she did?

CHAPTER FIVE

IT TOOK JACK ONE MONTH, two days and sixteen hours to find out where Daisy had run off to, and another half day to travel to Nevada. When he finally made it to the crummy studio apartment she had rented at the edge of town, he was mad as hell, and exhausted to boot. And she didn’t look much better when she opened her door to him. Her fair skin held the golden glow of desert sun and she was dressed as sexily as ever, in snug, worn, navel-baring jeans, tangerine tank top and western boots. Her wavy hair was as clean and silky-looking as always and caught up in a clasp on the back of her head. But there were shadows beneath her eyes and a weariness in her body language that hadn’t been there before.

Not that she was about to let him know that, however, Jack noted as their eyes clashed. “I was wondering when you would show up.”

Jack took the open door for invitation and followed her inside. The place was a mess. Although it was nearly noon, what looked like a breakfast of a glass of milk and a sweet roll sat on the table. The sofa bed was still pulled out and unmade. There were clothes, shoes and toiletry items scattered all over the place. He shut the door behind them, noting the laptop computer, printer and digital camera that were hooked up together. Even as they spoke, what looked like color tourist photos were spitting out of the printer one after another. Which explained how she had been getting by once her cash ran out. “It would have been sooner if you’d let me know where you were,” he said.

“What? And take all the fun out of it?” Daisy plucked her glass off the table and took a sip of milk. Expression sobering slightly, she continued, “I was going to contact you soon anyway.”

Jack had expected as much—when Daisy was ready. She was too confrontational to let what had happened between them that night go by without being addressed. Not that he was taking the blame for everything. She was at fault here, too. Figuring she would want him to give as good as he got, he said back, just as dryly, “To return my car, repay the cash you stole and reimburse me for the $2358.29 in credit card charges you racked up the last two days?”

Daisy shook her head, took another sip of milk, and still holding his gaze, said, “To tell you I’m pregnant.”

Her matter-of-fact tone hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. Jack tensed, attempting to frame a retort, only nothing came out. Finally, he said, “That’s not funny, Daisy.”

An emotion he couldn’t quite identify glimmered in her eyes. “Oh, I don’t know.” She waved her hand through the air, some of her customary rebelliousness coming back to her stance. “There’s a certain irony to it, don’t you think? I mean, the bastard of Tom Deveraux having the love child of his most trusted employee slash henchman. If you ask me—” her lips curved with mocking pleasure “—it’s like something straight out of a trashy novel.”

He was beginning to realize she wasn’t kidding. “Except this is real life, Daisy.”

Daisy sighed and put down her milk. “Ain’t that the sad truth,” she agreed.

Jack came closer. Unable to help himself, he looked at her stomach—it seemed as flat as always, but then if the baby was his, and his gut was telling him that it was, she was only four and a half weeks or so along. He swallowed around the unaccustomed tightness in his throat and returned his gaze to her face. “You’re sure about this?”

Daisy wiped her hands on a napkin and walked down to the other end of the narrow kitchen countertop. She plucked a piece of paper out from beneath a little sample bottle of what appeared to be vitamins and handed it to him. “I went to the Lake Tahoe clinic two days ago.”

He noted that the receipt said the clinic had billed her for a pregnancy test, new patient exam and consultation.

In a bored tone, Daisy continued, “You can go check out the test results for yourself if you want. I told them you were the father and you might be coming by.”

Still struggling to absorb the fact that he was going to be a father—that he was going to have a baby with Daisy—never mind figure out what this was going to mean to him, his life and everyone around them, Jack handed back the receipt. “That’s not necessary,” he said stiffly, guilt—and his own sense of failed responsibility—along with the news of his impending fatherhood, combining to hit him with the force of a sledgehammer. He forced the words through numb lips. “I believe you.” Just as he now believed they were in one hell of a mess, that was likely only going to get worse as time went on.

Daisy tilted her head as she studied him with narrowed eyes. After a moment, she noted softly, “You haven’t asked if the baby is yours.”

No. He hadn’t. And why hadn’t he? Jack couldn’t say why he was so sure. He only knew his gut was saying it was his kid. And his street smarts about people, whether they were good, bad or somewhere in between, were never wrong. Daisy might act out wildly, but she would never lie to him about something like this, especially given the way she had grown up, not knowing to whom she had been born. “I’m sure because I know you,” he stated firmly, more sure of that with every second that passed.

For reasons Jack couldn’t understand, his faith in Daisy’s honor upset rather than reassured her. “And how do you know?” she retorted, the deeply cynical look returning to her face. “Oh!” She snapped her fingers as if something just hit her with amazing insight. “I forgot. You and my biological father have been tracing my movements ever since I decided to try and find my real parents a few months ago.” She trod closer, bristling with a mixture of indignation and contempt. “That’s kind of ironic, too, don’t you think? That I hired the same private investigator my biological father hired to keep me from finding out what the Templeton and Deveraux families would’ve preferred I not ever know?”

Yeah, it had been a sticky situation, all right. Hardest on the top-notch P.I. who had unexpectedly found himself at the center of the quandary, being asked to represent both sides. But that was neither here nor there now, Jack thought. He shrugged. “It’s not surprising you both hired Harlan. He’s the best private investigator in the city.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t refuse to help me, given the fact that Tom had signed him first,” Daisy said sulkily.

“Harlan did go to Tom. Told Tom that you wanted to hire him and why and wanted to know what Tom wanted him to do. Harlan said he could refer you elsewhere or help you himself, but he wouldn’t lie to you or take your money or try and stonewall you—do anything else unethical or underhanded.”

“Good for Harlan. If it weren’t for him finding out I had been born in a little convent in the Swiss Alps, instead of Norway as I had always been told, I still wouldn’t know the truth.”

Jack nodded, glad they agreed on this much. “Harlan Decker’s a good guy, all right. Although for the record—” Jack gave Daisy a stern look, letting her know she wasn’t completely off the hook for her actions, either “—Harlan thought I should’ve turned you in for stealing.”

Daisy shrugged. “What can you expect from a former cop?” she volleyed back. Silence fell between them, less tense this time.

Jack studied Daisy knowing he already had his own thoughts on the matter, but wondering where she wanted to go from here. “So what now?” he asked her casually.

Daisy bit her lower lip and regarded Jack uncertainly as her printer finally sputtered to a halt. “You’re really going to take me at my word on this pregnancy?” Clearly, Jack thought, she wasn’t used to being trusted.

Jack watched as Daisy went over, picked up the stack of finished photos from the tray and began thumbing through them. “I don’t have any reason not to believe you.”

Daisy went back to her computer and typed in another series of commands. “Nevertheless,” she said as calmly as if they were discussing the terms of a new photo shoot instead of the permanent interlinking of their lives, “I’d feel better if we went over to the clinic and let you see the results, and maybe have you take a paternity test or whatever it is they do these days to establish paternity.”

Jack pulled up a chair next to her and sat down. “I’d feel better if we just got married and got it over with,” he stated, wondering how long Daisy was going to be able to keep her cool, act as if this hardly mattered, when in reality it was the most earth-shattering revelation of both their lives.

Daisy continued typing in commands until her printer started going again. She turned to him, as yet another series of tourist pictures began spitting out into the tray, the only indication of her heightening emotions the tensing of her jaw. “And why would we want to do that?” she asked steadily.

That, Jack thought, was easy. Letting her know with a look that she and their baby would be able to count on him the way she had apparently never been able to count on anyone else in her life, he said, “So the baby you’re carrying will be born legitimate, and have a mother and a father.”

Once again, Daisy’s teeth raked across her soft, bare lower lip. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Tom Deveraux, would it? Because I don’t have to tell him we slept together. At least not yet,” Daisy amended hastily before Jack could get a word in edgewise. “When my baby is born, of course I’ll make his or her paternity a matter of public record—there’s no way I’ll ever lie to my child the way my parents lied to me all these years. But until then—I mean, no one has to know. We don’t have to put ourselves in a position where we’re both going to be getting a lot of grief.”

Jack supposed that was true, but he saw no reason in putting off the inevitable, either. “The worst thing we could do is let our kid think we’re ashamed of him or her,” Jack said. He had grown up that way, feeling the slings and arrows surrounding the scandal of his birth. There was no way he was doing it to his own child. Frowning, Jack continued humorlessly, “Tom already knows we slept together.”

Daisy did a double take. “You told him?”

“Not exactly.” Because it was clear she wasn’t going to just let this go, Jack continued reluctantly, “He figured it out when you disappeared the way you did.”

“Because you were acting so guilty, I bet.”

Knowing where she was going with this, Jack pushed the words through his teeth. “I’m not sorry we made love.” Especially now that they had a baby on the way because of it. He gave her a level look. “I’m just sorry about how and why and when it happened.”

The wall around Daisy’s feelings only became stronger and more inaccessible as Daisy scoffed in a cynical tone. “You would have preferred recreational sex, is that it?”

“It was more than that, and you know it.” Jack knew Daisy was trying to shock and turn him off. He wasn’t going to allow her to do it. Especially not now, when they had a child they were going to be responsible for.

“Exercise?”

“It was raw emotion and need—and you know it.”

“I don’t need anyone.”

Yes, Jack thought. You do. They all did. Maybe what he and Daisy had shared wasn’t love. Maybe it would never be love. But they could be there for each other and their child in other equally important ways. And whether she wanted that or not, he was going to see that it happened, because the two of them had more than just themselves to think about now. They had a baby to consider. A baby who would need the love and care and cooperation of both parents.

“But back to Tom Deveraux.” Daisy changed the subject to something safer. She studied Jack curiously. “What did he say when you told him about us?”

Jack recalled the punch that had landed him in the dirt and left his jaw aching for days, and decided Daisy didn’t need to know that Tom was still so angry he was barely speaking to Jack. “Nothing that bears repeating,” Jack finally said.

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll bet.”

“Look, Daisy, let’s get out of here,” Jack said, ready to go back East and reclaim his job and whatever was left of any respect Tom Deveraux might still have for him. Hopefully what he was doing now to make an honest woman of Daisy and set things to rights would go a long way in repairing the damage that had been done. And if not, he hoped he would at least continue to have his job with the Deveraux-Heyward Shipping Company. “We’ll get married and hop a plane back to Charleston.”

Daisy took the rest of the printed photos out of the tray and stuck them in an envelope emblazoned with the name Tahoe Mountain Tours. Apparently finished with the work she had to do, she shut off her printer and computer and closed the lid on her laptop. “I’ll marry you for the sake of the baby, Jack, but I’m not going back to Charleston.”

Jack had expected some resistance on that score after the way she had run away, and had prepared for it. “Afraid, are you?”

Daisy shot to her feet and squared off with him. “I’m no coward,” Daisy lashed back.

“Hey.” Jack flattened his hands on his chest and gave her a look of mock innocence. “That’s what a person is who refuses to face the consequences of their actions.”

Daisy thrust her chin out as she slapped both hands on her hips and stomped nearer. “I’ve never been afraid of anything or anyone in my life,” she swore, glaring up at him.

“Then prove it,” Jack threw down the gauntlet, knowing damn well a woman like Daisy would pick it right up and brandish him with it in return. “Marry me. Come home with me. Help me show everyone that we know that we don’t care what they think.”

“There’d have to be a few conditions,” Daisy warned after a moment.

At last, a chink in her emotional armor, Jack noted solemnly. He couldn’t wait to hear those.

The taunting look was back in her Deveraux-blue eyes. “You’ll give my baby a name and we’ll have a physical relationship—that’s it!”

Jack didn’t mind the prospect of hitting the sheets again with Daisy, he also knew they had some very important boundaries to set. “Fine. I also don’t want to be jerked around.”

“Fine.” Daisy glared right back at him.

They seemed to be circling each other like two wary animals—neither willing to make the first move. Maybe the thing to do was to make it real and go from there. They could worry about the details later.

He regarded her sternly, chastening, “And one more thing. No one’s bed but mine, got it?”

A slow, sexy, victor’s grin spread across her face. Looking as if she was the one in the driver’s seat, Daisy shrugged and said, “Whatever.”

DAISY HAD TO ADMIT that like Jack, she didn’t appreciate being manipulated, either. To the point she tended to behave perversely and illogically if she felt she was being used. Nevertheless, Daisy thought as she rummaged through the clothes in her closet, looking for something to don for a quickie wedding, she was very relieved Jack had not only shown up so swiftly, but offered to help her muddle her way through this dilemma she found herself in. Because she had the feeling that the next eight months or so were going to be rough in a lot of ways. And she and the baby needed a man like Jack, who was known for his steady presence and selflessness to help her through all the life changes she was going to have to make if she wanted to be a good mother, and she did.

“How soon can you be ready to go?” Jack asked.

Daisy shrugged as she took several things on hangers into the bathroom and hung them over the shower rod for trying on. “I don’t know. Ten or fifteen minutes.”

It ended up taking her thirty, but that was okay, Daisy thought as she examined herself in the mirror, because with her hair put up in a neat twist on the back of her head and some makeup and dangly earrings on, she looked pretty darn good. Smiling, she spritzed herself with perfume and walked out into the studio in her stocking feet.

Jack had changed clothes too in her absence. The sport shirt he had been wearing when he arrived was now in a carry-on garment bag. He was wearing a navy blazer with his khaki slacks, white shirt and dark-olive tie.

Jack finished zipping up his garment bag and turned to face her. “That’s what you’re going to wear?” His eyebrow lifted in surprise.

Unable to help but note how good Jack looked, not to mention to feel a little hurt he disapproved of her choice, when she had so little to choose from, Daisy shrugged. “What’s wrong with it?”

Jack made a face. “It’s black, for starters.”

Daisy looked down at her long sleeveless dress. It was woven out of a linen-cotton blend that fell just above her ankles. It was cool and summery and yes—with its sensual drape and cutaway armholes, sexy as all get-out. But if he didn’t like it… “I’ve got some pink capri pants,” she said, deliberately suggesting something even more outrageous. “Or a yellow floral mini.”

“Never mind.” Jack picked up Daisy’s computer, printer and camera—which had all been put in their cases while she was changing—and set them in a pile next to the door. “Let’s just load this stuff in my SUV and get going.”

Knowing he had also been on the phone making arrangements while she got ready for the momentous event, Daisy threw the rest of her belongings into a suitcase as quickly as she could. “Which wedding chapel did you pick?”

Jack helped her get the rest of her things together, which admittedly weren’t much, as he told her matter-of-factly, “We’re getting married on the upper deck of a paddlewheel boat on Lake Tahoe.”

Daisy’s eyes widened with surprise. “That’s a little extravagant, isn’t it?”

Jack gave her a look that indicated he didn’t think so. “We’re only going to do this once. It might as well be memorable.”

Daisy wondered if he would have the same view of the wedding night then quickly pushed the thought from her mind. She couldn’t risk making this a romantic occasion, even in her mind, because it simply wasn’t. Methodically, she collected the tourist photos she had to deliver to Tahoe Mountain Tours en route to the ceremony. “What about rings and a license and blood tests?” she asked, mentally making a note to give her notice while she was there so they could find another photographer to take her place.

Jack picked up several of the heavier items, then held the door. “They’ll have everything we need there, including the paddleboat captain who is going to marry us, the marriage certificate, license and two plain solid-gold wedding rings. There’s no waiting period. And no blood tests are required. All we have to do is show up.”