The Jarrods: Temptation

She had to wonder about that. He was probably just being nice. Why would they be taking this situation any better than her older brothers had? She hardly saw her siblings unless it was at some family function, but only the day before, the three of them had descended on her en masse to try to talk her out of this move.

Erica leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. She could still hear her brothers’ voices, alternately pleading, arguing and demanding that she stop hurting the man who’d loved her and raised her. Strange how they were all so interested in protecting Walter from a truth he’d known all along. None of them had given much thought to what she was having to deal with.

Even with her brothers coming at her from all sides, that confrontation hadn’t been as bad as the one with her stepmother. Angela, to give the woman her due, loved Walter to distraction. She’d made him happy, Erica knew, and she’d even tried, in the beginning, to foster a relationship with Erica. But the woman really wasn’t very maternal and Erica had been old enough to resent a woman who wasn’t her mother trying to take over her life. So they’d never really connected. And that wasn’t likely to change now, she thought as she remembered that last scene with her stepmother.

“You’re hurting him with this, Erica,” Angela had said softly, her tone and expression clearly showing her disapproval. “He doesn’t deserve this sort of treatment from you.”

“Angela, all I want to do is find out who I am,” she argued patiently.

“And you believe your father resents your choice.”

“Are you saying he doesn’t?”

Angela took a long breath and let it sigh from her lungs. Picking up her clutch, she tucked it beneath her left arm and slowly shook her head. “You’ve never looked past his brusque exterior to the man beneath, have you?” Not waiting for an answer, she said, “One day you will, my dear. And you’ll see that Walter’s heart aches for you. He loves you, Erica. It doesn’t matter that Don Jarrod donated his sperm to your creation. It’s Walter Prentice who is your father.”

Was Angela right? Or was she only defending her husband as she always had? Erica didn’t know, but she couldn’t allow anything to stop her from this quest.

“So basically,” Erica whispered to no one, “I’m on my own. Probably about time, too,” she added under her breath.

Heaven knew this was the greatest adventure she’d ever undertaken. Unlike her friends, she hadn’t back-packed through Europe after graduating from college. She hadn’t taken a year off to “find” herself. Instead, she’d done exactly what was expected of her. She had gotten a job at a well-regarded firm and began the process of building a respectable life. In fact, Erica had never done a single thing on impulse. She had been the good little girl, doing the right thing. The proper thing. All because she had been trying to prove herself to a father who had never noticed her. Now though, it seemed she was making up for all of that.

Pulling up stakes and moving halfway across the country to live with people she didn’t know and help run a resort she’d never seen.

It was crazy. Made zero sense. She should be terrified.

But she wasn’t.

Erica looked out the window at the earth far below and watched the view change from city to mountains and plains and felt a stir of excitement rise up inside her. This was new. Fresh. She had a chance here that few people ever had. An opportunity to completely reinvent herself. She was going to do the best she could with it. She was going to find her way and figure out who she was and when that was done, she’d be able to face her father again and hold her head high.

She picked up her cup of coffee and sipped at it. But for the muffled roar of the engines, the inside of the jet was quiet. She wasn’t interested in watching a movie or listening to the selection of music they had on board. In fact, she was actually too restless to sit still. The only thing keeping her in her buttery-soft leather chair was her instinctive fear of flying. And as the time ticked away, Erica’s excitement turned into nervousness and she worried about the reception she’d be receiving once she landed.

Friends? Or enemies? And how would she be able to tell?

The pilot’s voice crackled over the speaker, interrupting her thoughts. “Ms. Prentice, please make sure your seat belt is fastened. We’re beginning our initial descent and will be landing in Aspen in about twenty minutes.”

She nodded as if the man could see her, then smiled at herself.

Only twenty minutes until her new life started.

He was waiting on the tarmac.

Christian Hanford looked different than he had in San Francisco, Erica thought as her heartbeat sped into a gallop. For one thing, he wasn’t wearing a suit. And if she’d thought him gorgeous in that elegantly cut business suit, it was nothing to how she felt now.

He was wearing dark blue jeans, black boots and a red pullover collared shirt. His short dark hair ruffled in the wind and his lazy stance as he leaned against a black BMW only added to the “dangerous” air about him.

He walked to meet her as she came down the retractable stairway. A half smile on his face, he stopped at the bottom of the staircase and looked up at her. “How was your trip?”

“Fabulous,” she said quickly. “Thank you for sending the jet for me.”

“Least we could do,” he said and held out one hand to help her down the last few steps. His thumb traced lightly over the back of her hand and his touch felt like licks of flame. His dark eyes locked with hers and Erica felt a nearly magnetic pull toward the man. For one split second it was as if they were the only two people in the world. His square jaw was shadowed with a faint trace of whiskers and his mouth was still curved in that half smile as he added, “It’s the Jarrod family jet. You’re family.”

She laid her free hand against her abdomen in an attempt to still the butterflies that had suddenly decided to swarm inside her. It was a wasted effort. With excitement came nerves and she didn’t expect either to let up anytime soon.

“How about a quick tour of Aspen before we go to the resort?”

“I’d like that,” she said, tearing her gaze from his really gorgeous dark chocolate eyes long enough to look around her. Once she did, she gasped.

She glanced around the small—compared to San Francisco—airport and the mountains surrounding them. The sky was so blue it nearly hurt to look at it and the white clouds scudding across that sky could have been painted on, they were so perfect. The air was sharp and clean and the relative quiet was nearly deafening to a woman used to the sounds of a city.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, staring out at the mountains that towered over them like guardian angels.

“You know,” he said, and she turned to catch him looking at her, “it really is.” Then he shook off whatever he was thinking, and gave her hand a tug. “Come on, city girl. Let me show you around.”

She was too damn beautiful; that was the problem, Christian told himself. He’d hoped that his memory of her was exaggerated. That she hadn’t really had eyes the color of finely aged whiskey. That she didn’t smell like peaches. That her softly layered hair didn’t really lift in the wind until it looked like a halo around her head. He’d hoped that his desire for her would be something he could tuck away and ignore.

But just touching her hand had set off explosions of want inside him and now Christian knew exactly what he was up against.

Temptation.

He kept her hand tucked into his as he led her toward his car. The top was down and it was a perfect day for her to see her new home. When he opened the car door for her he took an extra second to enjoy the view. She wore white linen slacks, a dark blue shirt and black leather flats, and managed to look more beautiful than any woman had a right to. Oh, yeah. He was in deep trouble.

He closed the car door and said, “We’ll drive through town, let you get your bearings.” “What about my luggage?”

“They’ll deliver it to the resort.”

“Right.” She nodded. “Okay then.”

He hopped in on the driver’s side, fired the engine and drove out of the airport.

“I can’t believe the mountains are so close,” she said, pushing her windblown hair out of her face.

“I’ve lived here my whole life so I guess I don’t really take the time to look up at them much.”

“I don’t know how you could do anything else,” she admitted.

He followed her gaze briefly, allowing himself to admire the sweep of green that climbed up the mountains ringing Aspen. Like most citizens of Aspen, he more or less took the natural beauty of the place for granted. When you grew up in the middle of a painting, you tended to think everyone else lived with those kinds of views, too.

Christian gave her a quick grin. “I give you two weeks before you stop noticing them, just like the rest of us.”

She glanced at him and shook her head. “I’ll take that bet.”

As he drove into the city, he rattled off the names of the businesses crowded along the streets. On Galena he pointed out the old brick buildings, several of the shops and Erica noticed the flower boxes lining the walkways between stores. Down Main Street, he showed her the Aspen Times, one of the town newspapers, and she smiled at the small blue building adorned with old-fashioned gold lettering across the front.

He knew what she was seeing, but he had to admit that like the mountains, he tended to take for granted the charm of the city he’d grown up in.

It was modern of course, with plenty of high-end boutiques and shops for the megawealthy and celebrities who flocked here every year. But it was also an old mining town. Brick buildings, narrow streets, brightly colored flowers in boxes and old-fashioned light posts that were more atmospheric than useful. It was a mingling of three centuries, he supposed.

“In Aspen, we’ve sort of held on to the old while we welcomed the new.”

“I love it,” she said, her head whipping from side to side so she could take it all in.

He threw a quick look at her, saw pure pleasure dancing in her eyes and wondered how he was going to maintain a strictly business relationship with the youngest of Don’s daughters. As his mind wrestled with his body’s wants, he tried to focus on the road and not the way she lazily crossed her legs.

“It’s so big,” she said after another minute or two.

“Aspen?” He gave her another quick look. Coming from a city the size of San Francisco, he was surprised to hear she thought Aspen was big. “It’s not, really. Population’s around five thousand with a hell of a lot more than that every winter for the skiing and in the summer for the food and wine gala.”

“No, not Aspen itself,” she corrected. “Colorado. It’s all so … open. God, the sky just goes on forever.” She laughed a little and shrugged. “I’m more used to fragments of sky outlined by office buildings.”

“Which do you like better?”

“Well,” she said as he stopped at a red light, “that’s the question, isn’t it? San Francisco is beautiful, but in a completely different way. I feel so out of my element here.”

The light changed, he put the car in gear and stepped on the gas. Keeping his eyes on the road, he said, “You’re Don Jarrod’s daughter, so Colorado’s in your blood. Your family goes back a long way here.”

“Tell me,” she said, focusing on him now more than the city around them.

“I’ll do my best,” he said, thinking back to everything he’d heard Don talking about over the years. “Don’s great-great-grandfather started the resort. He was here for the silver mining boom that started the city back in 1879. Bought himself some land and built what he called the biggest, damnedest house in Colorado.”

Erica smiled. “No shortage of self-esteem in the Jarrod family then?”

“Not at all,” Christian agreed with a chuckle. “Anyway, by 1893, Aspen had banks, theaters, a hospital and electric lights.”

“Impressive,” she said, half turning in her seat to watch him as he spoke.

“It was. Then the bottom dropped out of the silver market, mines closed and people moved out by the hundreds. Eli Jarrod refused to go, though. He kept adding on to his house, and opened it up as a hotel. There were still plenty of people back east who wanted to come out here on fishing and hunting trips and Eli was set up to take care of them.”

“Smart.”

“Not a shortage of brains in the Jarrod family, either,” he told her. “Anyway, Eli managed to hang on. The Depression wasn’t easy for anybody, but then the resort really took off in 1946. Then people were discovering the mountains for skiing and the Jarrods were prepared to handle the tourism trade.”

“Right place, right time?”

“I guess,” he said, “though they hung on through the lean years when everyone said that a hotel in the middle of ‘nowhere’ was a bad idea. So maybe you could just put their success down to pure stubbornness.”

He steered the car past a delivery truck and along street after street. Businesses gave way to bungalow homes set far back on wide lots dotted with pines. Soon they left the city behind and turned onto a road guarded on either side by tall trees and open space.

“Tell me about the resort.”

Christian nodded. “Like I said, it started out as just the family home, though your ancestor made sure it was the biggest house for miles around. As he turned it into a hotel, the place got even grander. Wings were added off the main building and the Jarrod resort was born.” He took a sharp left and steered the car across the bridge spanning the Roaring Fork River. “And the resort just kept growing. The main hotel is out front and the top floor is the family residence. That’s where you’ll be staying.”

She took a breath and nodded. “Okay, what else?”

“There are lodges built on the grounds, some of them actually going up the slope of the mountain. There are standard log cabins, some stone ones. Most of the lodges are small and cozy, one-family deals, but there are much bigger ones too, fully staffed with butlers, maids and cooks.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Wow.”

“Oh, yeah.” He steered the car down a narrow road lined with stands of trees so thick she could barely see through them. “I think you’re about to be amazed, Erica Prentice.”

She laughed. “What makes you think I haven’t been already?”

“It’s about to get better,” he assured her.

The long drive up to the resort unfolded in front of them. An acre of neatly tended lawn bordered by banks of flowers spilling color and scent lay in front of the truly impressive Manor.

Erica felt her mouth drop open. “It’s a castle,” she whispered, her gaze sweeping up and over the main stone building, then encompassing the wings jutting out from either side. Flowering green shrubs crouched at the base of the Manor and gleaming window panes shone in the sun like diamonds. There were peaked roofs, balconies with iron railings and the aged brick of the structure itself was the color of roses.

It would have seemed like a postcard, but for the bustle of employees around the circular drive making the whole place come alive. A doorman in a sharp, navy-blue-and-gold jacket spouted orders like a general and bellmen raced to follow them. Luxury cars idled beneath an arched stone covering over the gravel drive as guests stepped from them to be escorted into the hotel.

“This is …” she whispered, still stunned.

“I told you,” Christian said. “Amazed.”

“That’s really not a big enough word,” she told him as he pulled under the archway and stepped out of the car. In a moment, Christian was at the passenger side, helping her out. She stood up and did a slow turn, trying to take in everything at once.

It was impossible. She thought she’d need weeks to get the whole picture of the Jarrod resort. But what she had seen, she loved. Erica had never seen anyplace like it. It was as if she had stepped into a fairy tale. All that was missing was the handsome prince riding up on a black charger.

Then her gaze shifted to Christian. Handsome man in a black BMW. The modern version of the fairy tale then, she thought with an inner smile. But he wasn’t a prince and she wasn’t in need of rescuing. Or was she?

Shifting her gaze to scan the yard, then turning to peek through the open double doors into the lobby, Erica couldn’t avoid a quick jolt of nerves that shot from her stomach up to her heart and back again. She was here. About to meet a family she’d never known and there was no going back.

“Second thoughts?”

She turned to look at Christian and found him watching her with a bemused expression on his face. Funny, she hadn’t even met him a week ago and now, he was the one spot of familiarity in a rapidly changing world.

“No,” she said firmly, taking a deep breath as she did so. “No second thoughts. I made the decision to come here and I’m going to stick with it.”

A flash of admiration lit up his dark eyes briefly and Erica felt warmed by it.

“Good for you,” he said, then waved one arm out toward the interior of the hotel. “Ready to see your new home?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she told him and started walking.

The honey-colored wood walls and floors shone like a jewel box in the overhead lights. Framed photos of the mountain taken during every season dotted the walls and there were tables and chairs scattered around the wide lobby. A hum of conversation rose and fell as people wandered around the room and through it all, there was an almost electrical air about the place.

Erica swiveled her head from side to side, looking at everything as Christian guided her across the lobby to an elevator off by itself. “This is the private elevator to the family quarters,” he told her and took a card from his pocket to slide into the key slot.

The door slid open and they stepped inside. Again, honey-colored wood set the tone, making Erica think not only of a mountain cabin, but warmth and luxury.

“Your key will be in your suite, waiting for you,” Christian was saying. “Your luggage probably beat us here, since we took the scenic route. You’ll find everything you need in your suite. There’s even a small efficiency kitchen there and it’s been stocked with the basics.”

“Okay.”

“There’s also a main kitchen on the family level, if you really feel the urge to cook something. But the hotel restaurants will deliver, so you don’t have to worry about that if you don’t want to.”

“Oh, I like cooking,” she told him as the elevator stopped and the door opened.

“Well, then, you and your brother Guy should get along just fine. He’s a chef.” Christian stepped out and held the door back for her. “He was, anyway. He owned his own restaurant in New York before coming back to Aspen and now he’s pretty much taking over running the resort restaurants.”

“A chef,” she mused with a smile. “I’m not in his league, then. I said I like cooking. Didn’t promise I was good at it.”

“Make me dinner some night,” he said, then stopped and frowned to himself as if he already regretted the words.

Judging by his expression, Erica ignored what he said, stepped into the hall and sighed as she looked around. “It just keeps getting prettier.”

The hallway they stepped into was wide, leading off in two directions. Wood floors, walls the color of fog and a narrow table boasting a cobalt vase stuffed with roses and hydrangeas greeted her. Every few feet, an arched window let in sunlight and provided a view that was breathtaking. But she didn’t have enough time to look around and enjoy it.

Christian pointed to the left. “Down there are four suites, and just past them, along the hallway, is the family room.”

“Okay …” She noted that the private quarters followed the line of the hotel, only the windows here looked out over a palatial pool area. The aquamarine water held a few guests lounging on rafts and on the flagstone area surrounding the pool, cabanas, tables and chairs with brightly colored umbrellas offered places to sit and chat. There was a bar tucked into one corner of the space and uniformed waiters and waitresses hurried back and forth seeing to the guests’ comforts.

No doubt about it, she had walked into a very different world in Colorado than the one she was accustomed to. Then she realized that Christian was still talking and she turned around to watch him and listen.

“Past the family room is the original family quarters. The master bedroom and bedrooms for your brothers and sister when they were kids.”

She tried to imagine growing up in this place, but it was hard to envision. So much space. So much open land for children to run and play. Smiling, she recalled that as a girl, she’d thought the park her nanny had taken her to was a veritable wilderness.

“As his kids got older,” Christian said, “Don had the place rehabbed, building each of them their own suite and a few extras for guests.”

It sounded as though Don Jarrod had done everything he could to keep his children at home. Yet each of them had fled Colorado. She had to wonder why.

Erica took a breath and nodded. “Are they all living here now?”

As if he could read the trepidation on her face, he smiled and said, “No. Right now, there’s only Guy in one of the suites and Guy’s twin, Blake, and his assistant living in two of the others. The rest of your family are here—staying in different lodges.”

Only a couple of siblings to worry about facing every day then. That was good. Erica would prefer to settle in a little before she was forced to deal with Don Jarrod’s other children. But if Guy or Blake and his assistant were there at the moment, now was as good a time as any to get the first of the introductions over with.

“Are any of them here now?” Erica tried to steel herself for meeting the first of her new family. Though now that she thought about it, she wished she had a minute to drag a brush through her wind-tossed hair and to put on some makeup and—

“No,” Christian said, interrupting her frenzied thoughts. “Blake’s gone for a few days at the moment. He and Samantha have been flying back and forth a lot to Vegas, wrapping up loose ends in the business and getting ready to take over here. Blake and your brother Gavin have been building hotels, mostly in Las Vegas and they’ve done exceptionally well out there.”

“And they’re giving it up to come back here?”

“Yeah,” Christian said. “Like you, your brothers and sister have closed down their old lives and are here to start over again.”

But they were returning to something familiar at least. She, on the other hand, felt as though she’d fallen into the rabbit hole. Nerves rattled through her again, but resolutely, she fought them down.

“What about Guy?”

“This time of day, he’s probably downstairs in the main restaurant.”

She drew a breath and let it go. “What about Gavin? Is he in Vegas with Blake?”

“No, he’s here. But he’s living in one of the private lodges on the grounds.” Christian shrugged. “He wasn’t interested in moving into the Manor.”

Erica was beginning to understand that none of her brothers and sister were exactly thrilled to be back in Aspen. Yet, they’d all come, putting aside their plans and lives outside Jarrod Ridge to return and take up the family resort again. That told her that despite what were probably mixed feelings about their father and this place, their loyalty to family meant more than their reluctance to return. And that knowledge made her feel better, somehow. If family was everything to these people, then eventually, she might be able to have a relationship with all of them.

“What about the others?” she asked. “Where are they living?”

He led her down the hallway in the opposite direction from Blake’s suite as he continued.

“Well, like I said, Trevor has his own place in Aspen, but he’s here most days. Guy stays here mainly because he’s working here at the Manor. And Melissa …” He paused. “She lives in Willow Lodge. It’s the farthest lodge from the Manor, but anyone here can tell you where that is. She also runs the hotel spa, and you’ll find her there most days.”