At The Playboy's Command: Millionaire Playboy, Maverick Heiress

Wanting to get it over with, she straightened her spine and picked up her pace.

“Morning, Chad.”

“I see Nita’s not around today,” he said, pushing out of the swing.

“Gone to see her mother. What can I do for you?”

“I received your correspondence this morning,” Chad said in his I’m disappointed in you tone. “I needed to tell you in person. I object.”

Wiggling out of her gloves, she skirted around him. “I know you do.”

They’d had this conversation—confrontation—many times. In fact, every time she instructed Chad to write a check for a family in need. She’d heard all the arguments, and frankly, she was tired of them. But for her parents’ sake she’d tell him one more time.

“Through the terms of the will I receive a generous allowance.”

She didn’t need to involve Chad when lump expenditures came in under a certain amount. But from early on she’d decided not to let that constraint stand in the way of using her allowance when and how she saw fit.

She opened the back door. “My mother would approve of my helping those in need.”

“Your father wouldn’t. He’d want you to use every cent on assisting the Milton cause—keeping the place running and running well.”

Her temper spiked. “My father is dead.”

Clenching her gloves in one hand, she sucked down a leveling breath and moved through into the house. She hadn’t meant to snap. Neither would she be dictated to. Not one day more.

“Did you write the check?”

Chad answered her question with a question. “Have you made certain this woman’s story pans out?”

She had. She always did. But she was tired of playing this game. Of being treated like an infant. Was being in control and keeping her in the realm of “ward” so important to him?

“What is it to you what I do with my allowance? It’s not as if I’m gambling or drinking it away.”

“You might as well be.”

And that’s what she hated most about these discussions, she decided, balancing against a wall to heel off her boots. Although he usually kept his feelings low-key and would deny it if asked, Chad was a chauvinist. If she were Ethan Milton’s son rather than daughter he wouldn’t expect her to have capitulated this long.

She walked away. “I don’t wish to discuss it further.”

“Then it’s settled.”

She actually growled. “The only thing that’s settled is my impatience with you.”

His footfalls followed her into the hall. “Elizabeth, I’ll thank you not to address me in that manner.”

“I’m not a child.”

“You’re still vulnerable.”

Spinning on him, incredulous, she barked, “Because I’m a single woman?”

His expression changed, softened, and his palms came out as he stepped closer. “I want to look after you.”

“I don’t want to be looked after.”

“Listen to me—”

“You listen to me. You are my financial advisor for another five years, but there’s nothing in that will to say I have to follow your every direction. I’ve bowed over and again in the past to keep the peace. From this moment on, when I make a decision and give you an instruction, I expect it to be followed without hesitation. Do you understand?”

“You’re not thinking straight.”

“There is nothing wrong with my mind.”

His nostrils flared and voice lowered to a rasp.

“You’ve slept with him, haven’t you?”

Elizabeth didn’t stop to think. Her hand drew back then met his face.

Touching the stinging mark rising on his cheek, Chad nodded as if he knew he deserved it. But, still, he couldn’t let it lie.

“Daniel Warren doesn’t care a rat’s hindquarters for this place. That means he doesn’t care about you. Once he earns his money, you won’t see him for dust.”

“And wouldn’t you fall over with fright if I just happened to follow him.”

His face paled before a confident smile hooked one side of his mouth. “You wouldn’t desecrate your parents’ memory like that.”

“I’ll do whatever I damn well please.” Her face hot, tears pickling behind her eyes, she strode off. “Close the door on your way out.”

When Nita returned that evening, Elizabeth was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the study, plowing through her old university papers. One hand went behind to help stretch her back as she glanced up and smiled.

“I didn’t hear you drive up.”

Stepping between the patchwork of textbooks and data sheets, Nita tsked. “That’s because you’ve insulated yourself in here with all this paper. What are you looking for?”

Sighing, Elizabeth sat back on her heels.

I’m looking for my life.

“I chose a degree in psychology,” she said, collecting her final essay with the excellent grade, “because I wanted to help people.”

Bent, about to collect a pile of books, Nita froze. “Has something happened at the shelter?” Nita knew of Elizabeth’s work there and how she’d like to do more.

“No.” Elizabeth corrected herself. “Not exactly. A woman dropped off a letter here. I asked Chad to organize some funds.”

“Oh.” Above her glasses, Nita’s eyebrows lifted, as if that explained everything about Elizabeth’s low mood. She placed the books on the edge of the ornate 1920s timber desk, which had been Ethan Milton’s pride and joy.

“We had our usual tussle,” Elizabeth explained, “about whether I was being responsible with my parents’ money.”

“It’s your money now.”

Still on the floor, Elizabeth blew a stream of air toward the ceiling. Their money. Her money. Wills and caveats and time sliding away. Twenty-five, twenty-six. One day, before she knew it, she’d be Nita’s age.

Elizabeth pushed to her feet. “Suddenly I feel so stifled.”

“So you’ve decided to do more study?”

Looking around, she shrugged. “Maybe.”

Nita leaned her hips back against the desk, waiting for the younger woman to continue.

Elizabeth wandered to a window and, resting the side of her head against the jamb, looked out on another amazing Texas sunset.

“Daniel came over last night.”

“I guessed.”

She folded her arms over her nervous stomach. “He makes me feel things I haven’t felt before.”

“You’re falling in love with him?”

“No.” Elizabeth released the sudden buildup of energy and, thinking more deeply on it, slowly shook her head then smiled. “But I sure like having him around.”

“If he gets the job for the club, he’ll be in Royal for a while.”

“I imagine so.” Elizabeth turned to face her friend. “He asked me to go away with him for a couple of days.”

Approving, Nita nodded. “When do you leave?”

“I’m not sure. When he left this morning, he had an idea for the design he wanted to work on.”

“See what a slice of my cheesecake can do?”

A smile broke across Elizabeth’s face. “Imagine if he’d had two pieces.”

Elizabeth crossed the room and sat behind the desk. A photograph of her grandparents sat on one side in a solid silver frame. Another of her mother and father on their wedding day sat on the other. Both shots had been taken out front of this house.

Elizabeth collected the wedding day shot and felt her throat swell with emotion. Whenever the miss you feeling got too much, she liked to look through old photographs, although she was never sure if it made her feel better or worse.

“Daniel doesn’t like his parents,” she murmured, running a fingertip down the train of her mother’s wedding gown. “He dislikes his memories of the South even more.”

“The past is important. We need to understand where we come from,” Nita said in her wise rather than wisecrack voice. “But we need to remember that the future is ours to create.”

“Is it?” Setting down the photo, Elizabeth imagined a similar shot of her with a proud Texan husband. “Or is it mapped out for us?” Plotted with a few twists and turns before an inevitable conclusion?

“I’ve decided to see more of my mother,” Nita said. “Stay more regularly.”

Elizabeth’s gaze snapped up. “Not to give Daniel and me more space here?”

“I’d already decided.” Her lips twitched. “Although he is a nice boy.”

“He’s a busy set-in-his-ways-millionaire-passing-through boy.” Elizabeth slumped. “And I’m a restless heiress with too much time on her hands.”

“You’re a man and a woman.”

“It feels wrong to want something I know I can never have. And yet when we’re together, it feels so right.”

“Go away with Daniel. Enjoy your time.” Nita sauntered toward the door. “The ranch will be here when you get back.”

Folding her forearms on the desk, Elizabeth bent forward to study the papers strewn across the floor. Then she remembered Chad’s unacceptable behavior and all the women from the shelter she’d helped in the past. Finally she remembered Daniel, his wicked smile, scorching embraces. His offer of escape.

Her stomach sinking, Elizabeth laid her head on her folded arms.

What if she never wanted to come back?

Ten

Elizabeth was curious when she didn’t hear from Daniel the rest of the day, but when flowers appeared on her doorstep the next morning, her heart leaped. She was sure he’d dropped off the gorgeous handpicked bunch of wild blooms. But when she ripped open the small card, she learned she was mistaken.

It read simply:

Thank you for making such a difference.

She slowly lowered the card. Not from Daniel. Still the warmth unfurling around her heart at the sentiment swam up to form a big smile. Seemed the flowers were from the sister of the woman she’d helped. She must have received the check Elizabeth had collected from Chad’s office and dropped at the shelter late yesterday. Good. Elizabeth hoped she would be kept up-to-date on that family’s progress from time to time, on how the days, months and even years ahead unfolded.

Midmorning, Elizabeth went for a long ride, checking cattle and fences until almost noon. She investigated study options until one o’clock, but the whole time she couldn’t help watching the phone. When Daniel still hadn’t called by two, she put pride aside and dressed to go into town.

Thirty minutes later, her pewter Shelby Cobra curved into the town’s main street. She parked directly in front of the Royal Hotel but then, for a good ten minutes, she simply sat, wringing the sports steering wheel, gnawing her lower lip. She didn’t want to look desperate and knock on her architect’s door a second time. But she couldn’t sit here all day, either. And she couldn’t stop wondering …

Why hadn’t he called? Had something happened with Abigail and his idea for a new design? Was he still in town, or had Daniel left without telling her?

Her heart knocking at her ribs, Elizabeth studied her cell, lying in her purse on the seat alongside of her. She could call Abigail, ask a few subtle questions. Oh, but that seemed beyond lame, too. She and Daniel had spent an amazing day together. He’d said he’d take her away. She couldn’t believe that invitation had been nothing more than pillow talk.

Or was she as vulnerable—naive—as Chad would have her believe?

Outside, Brad Price appeared, strolling down Main with new Texas Cattleman Zeke Travers, who, word had it, was also a consultant for Brad’s security firm. On the other side of the street, Addison Harper was holding court with poor Rosaline Jamestown, who glanced over and recognized the car. Sliding down in the driver’s seat, a chill raced over Elizabeth’s skin. Eyes and ears were everywhere. She didn’t care if she was seen with Daniel. To hell with anyone who didn’t like that the Cattleman’s Club was being redefined and updated after a hundred years. But she did not want to be seen chasing after a man. She’d rather never hear from Daniel again. She had her pride, after all.

Making a quick decision, she rammed into Reverse and stepped on the gas, ready to drive away. The jolt from her back bumper hurled her forward against her belt at the same instant the crunch of metal on metal echoed through the car and her heart jumped to the top of her throat. Elizabeth threw a wild glance behind her and withered. Of all the people to run into, and this way.

Her face burning, she set her forehead on the steering wheel. She couldn’t bring herself to get out and explain.

A rap on the window forced her to edge her gaze higher over the wheel. Daniel Warren was grinning in at her, signaling for her to lower the window.

“Fancy bumping into you here,” he said, looking amused as he leaned folded forearms on the ledge when the window was down.

She fought the urge to pat her warm cheeks. “I apologize. I … I didn’t see your vehicle.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he laughed. “You didn’t look.” His gaze searched hers before dropping to devour her lips. “Anything special bring you into town?”

“Special?” While her heartbeat skipped on, she pretended to think. “Just a few errands.”

“At the hotel?”

His devilish, knowing grin had her dissolving. There was no use pretending. Angling her head, she sat back.

“Truth is I was curious.”

“About my design?”

She nodded. And other things.

He swung open her door, but she hesitated. “Are you sure you have time?”

“I always have time for you.”

Before heading off, Daniel checked the negligible damage to their cars then, taking her arm, he escorted her around folk meandering down the footpath—some clearly interested in the pair—and into the hotel foyer. As they entered the building’s cool interior, Elizabeth’s stomach knotted and she slid a look around. Just the day before yesterday, after she and Daniel had made love, she’d bumped into Chad here. But surely lightning didn’t strike twice in one place.

When they were in the privacy of an elevator, Daniel wasted no time in rotating her to face him. His palms gliding down the sensitive indentation of her back, he gathered her near and kissed her thoroughly while she melted into a grateful, pliant puddle. The time spent waiting, wondering if she might have dreamed those hours spent together, had been worth every minute.

The world was spinning when the elevator doors opened. Still, Daniel took his sweet time breaking the kiss. When his mouth finally left hers, his lips remained teasingly close. Dizzy, Elizabeth clung to his shirt, imagining the hard flesh steaming beneath as his hooded, hungry gaze searched hers.

“You’re addictive.”

Floating, she leaned in. “Feeling’s mutual.”

“We’re still on for an escape from Royal then?”

She almost buckled with relief. He hadn’t forgotten.

“Anytime you’re ready.”

Hot, strong fingers laced through hers as they stepped into the corridor and headed toward his door.

“I want to get the basics of the new design sorted first. I’ll send scans to Rand so he can work on the dimensions and scaled drawings.”

“Don’t you want to do that yourself?”

“When I’ve sketched everything out, I intend to spend time with you.”

“You might be missing New York by then.”

“Is that a hint? Do you want to spend our days visiting the Statue of Liberty and Central Park?”

“If you really want to know, I have a craving for something far more private. Maybe something tropical.”

Swiping the keycard, he winked. “Leave it to me.”

Inside the suite, they crossed to a long central table. Sketches were scattered everywhere so that only snatches of wood poked through. When something crunched beneath her foot, Elizabeth looked down. Paper lay all over the floor, too.

After clearing a square, he positioned a sheet in the center of the table and stood back, hands low on his hips.

“Tell me if you think it’ll fly.”

Stepping up, she inspected the drawings. There were scales and numbers and different angles. Confusing for a layperson, but the overall concept was clear and, to her mind, nothing short of perfect!

At her side, he slipped slim reading glasses on then ran two fingertips over the main drawing.

“Exterior material will be stone but also with a strong emphasis on glass, which will encase a tall tunnel ceiling spanning the entire length of the curving building.”

“Lots of glass … to let the light in?”

“Natural light,” he agreed, his attention on the drawing. “Light coming from the new membership and century.”

Smiling at the excitement sparkling in his eyes, she nodded then looked down again.

“And this shape?”

“I couldn’t get away from the symbol that most typifies this state as well as the club. Plastering massive steer horns on a giant cowhide door, however, was one of my less inspired ideas.”

Elizabeth only pressed her lips together. Everyone made mistakes.

“But here the symbol of the club,” he went on, “steer horns, are embodied within the structure of the building itself. The character of the Cattleman’s Club is everywhere without being in anyone’s face.”

The building had no sharp angles or corners but rather curved around, in and out again, mimicking a set of horns. She pointed out the semicircular spaces.

“What’ll go in here?”

“I’m not sure yet. But I have an idea for the separate sections of the club with regard to color.” He pointed to the drawing. “That wing or horn will be devoted to equitable gatherings, such as sport, which should inspire a sense of fair play—or justice, if you will. It will be decorated with black opals in mind.”

“Black leather and granite trims?” she asked.

“Shimmering surfaces. The center third will be dining, meeting rooms and the library. The leadership area’s decor will reflect the legend’s red diamond.”

“Like red granite, redwood trimming and crimson carpet.”

“Uh-huh. The other wing …” He inhaled, slipped off his glasses and straightened. “Well, I’m still working out what to put in there but the theme will be emeralds. Green for growth.”

“And for peace.”

He smiled. “Right.”

She studied the design a final time then, satisfied, drew back. “If you’re going to get this done on time, I’d best let you be.”

His arm scooped around her waist and unapologetically tugged her in, deliciously close to his heady, innate heat.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he growled.

“I’m not?”

“Not today.” His head angled until his lips brushed hers, back and forth, up and blissfully down. Lower, she felt the physical result of his desire press against her belly and a wonderful floating feeling fell over her. Her next words came out a sigh.

“I didn’t bring anything with me.”

“What do you need?” His head lowered and he kissed her neck as if he were tasting fruits sent from heaven. “This.” He changed to the other side. “Or this?”

Gripping his broad shoulders, she liquefied more.

“You could wear a lady out,” she murmured.

A second before his mouth claimed hers, he admitted, “Or die trying.”

After two weeks of drawing and consulting with Abigail, Daniel was happy with his new design. He sent everything up to Rand to mark up the final drawings and to create a presentation, and then he told Elizabeth to get her beach gear and passport together. His private jet was fueled and waiting to fly them away.

During the flight out, he kept quiet about their destination. While she sat back in the leather seat, looking exquisite in a pretty yellow sundress and matching sandals, he wondered if she’d approve of his choice of location. Then again, she had asked for private.

Throughout the jet’s descent and when they touched down on an isolated tarmac, Elizabeth seemed breathless with excitement. Clear blue skies, a jungle of palms, riots of colorful island blooms. She held her cheeks.

“This is brilliant!”

“This Caribbean island’s very small, very private.” He grazed his lips against her temple. “Very romantic.” As they moved toward the door, he confessed, “I thought about the Pacific Islands, but I didn’t want to waste too much time in the air.”

When she smiled at him, understanding, he felt compelled to add, There’s always next year. But he didn’t want to jump the gun. No doubt they’d enjoy their time here together, but he wouldn’t go making any plans in advance. He would still need to stay in Royal on and off if he got the job. If that were the case he’d be more than happy to continue to see Elizabeth. But if his design wasn’t successful, fact was, soon he’d be back in New York. And Elizabeth would be stuck down South.

Not anyone’s fault. Nothing either of them could change. That circumstance merely reinforced the obvious. He wasn’t into long-distance affairs. He avoided them as much as ground glass in his oats. They should enjoy the time they had now.

A woman wearing a bright multicolored shirt and flowers in her dark hair greeted them. After collecting luggage, they were driven in a four-wheel drive to their lodgings—a thatched roof bungalow perched on the edge of an idyllic stretch of long white beach. Elizabeth audibly sighed as she moved through the front door, across the main room decorated with rattan furniture, then out onto a massive balcony, which overlooked sparkling shallow waters that journeyed out toward an endless turquoise sea.

“What’s this place called?”

“It’s a private island owned by a friend,” he said, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back as he joined her. “Sinbad Isle.”

She swung to him, her eyes bright. “Does it have a history of pirates? Of treasure?”

He laughed. “I vote we explore and find out.” Maybe they could start their own legend.

“Have you been here before?”

“I’ve had the offer for some time but I’ve never taken my friend up on it.”

“Are we the only ones here?”

“Aside from the caretakers, who have their own quarters on the other side of the island, we’re completely alone.”

With a wicked grin, she kicked off her sandals. “There’s something I want to try.”

“What’s that?”

“Take off your clothes and I’ll show you.”

Daniel wanted to pinch himself as Elizabeth proceeded to wriggle out of her sundress. When she got down to her fiery orange mini bikini, he snapped back and wound, double time, out of his shirt. Then she reached around her nape, pulled the tie and those two orange triangles of fabric fell to her hand-span waist. When his brain began to swim, Daniel remembered to breathe.

“You’d like to try out the bed?”

“No, silly.” She shimmied out of her bottoms, too. “I want to try out the water.”

Elizabeth left Daniel standing on the balcony with his jaw dropped and boxers ready to do the same.

She flew down the half-dozen wooden stairs and out along the warm, soft sand with not a stitch on. With the sun high and warm, she let out a laugh as her feet smacked the cool water. She’d waded out farther and was about to dive into the shallows when an arm lassoed her waist and brought them both down.

Water closed in over her head before hands, settled on her waist, jettisoned her up into the air and she heard Daniel’s laughter join her own. When she landed, she tried to escape again, but he caught her from behind and, her legs sending out fans of water, swung her around.

“You, Miss Milton, are a wild child. Are you known for this kind of behavior back home?”

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