A Precious Inheritance

“Vanessa.” Her name rolled off his tongue like something naughty, sending a flush rushing up to her cheeks.

“Chase,” she replied, shifting Heather onto her hip as she replied to his smile with one of her own. Oh my God, indeed, Stell. He was a stunning specimen. Hard to believe he’d had no date for tonight.

“And who’s this?” He stepped forward and it took all of Vanessa’s composure not to reel back.

“Heather. Meet Chase Harrington.”

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Partridge.” He smiled and held out his hand and Heather silently studied it, then him, for a few moments.

That’s right, honey, you keep your eye on him.

Finally her chubby face broke out in a smile and she thrust out the rattle.

“Why, thank you.” As Chase accepted the offering with a grin, Vanessa felt her breath catch. The genuine smile, the unthreatening distance and the way he bent down to her level…this guy was not only familiar with kids, he actually liked them.

To say it threw her was an understatement.

“You look beautiful.” Startled, she met his gaze and realized he was talking to her. “Don’t you think your mama looks beautiful, Heather?”

“Boo!” Heather replied obligingly then held out her hand for the rattle.

Chase promptly returned it with a chuckle. “Ready to go?”

“Sure.” Vanessa glanced back down the hall, to Stella, who had witnessed the entire exchange with a goofy grin.

“Erin’s in bed already,” Stella said as Vanessa handed Heather over with a kiss.

“I’ll just be a moment,” Vanessa said over her shoulder before walking swiftly into the girls’ room.

“Mmm-mmm, that man is deeelicious!” Stella huffed under her breath, her brown eyes sparkling as she laid the baby down in her crib. “You see the way he was with Heather?”

Vanessa made an affirmative “hmm” as she stroked Erin’s cheek, then leaned in to kiss her. “Make sure you put on the night-light. And Heather’s still fussy about her pacifier.”

“I know the drill, missy. You just go and have yourself a good time.”

“It’s not a date, Stell.”

When she straightened, Stella was studying her, hands on her wide hips. “You’re both dressed up, yeah? He’s picking you up and you’re going someplace with food and alcohol? Sugar, that is a date.” She tipped her head for emphasis.

“It’s not—”

“Date.”

“We’re not—”

“Date.”

Vanessa gave up. “Okay. Date.” She pulled the blanket up over Erin then reluctantly made her way to the door.

Stella’s brows went up. “They’re fine with Auntie Stella at work, they’ll be fine tonight. Now, go.”

And with a not-so-gentle pat on the rump, Vanessa was dismissed.

With a deep breath, Vanessa emerged from the bedroom and grabbed her coat from the hook near the front door.

“Ready?” she said to Chase a little too brightly.

He nodded and held out his arm. When she took it, she swallowed the sudden urge to yank her hand straight back.

It was like touching iron draped in cashmere. Delicious and forbidden, something she wasn’t entirely sure she could handle. Or needed.

Yet there was nothing to indicate he’d felt it too, not when he smiled at her, nor when he led her out her front door and down the stairs with Stella calling, “Have fun, children!” from the top.

Not even when he chivalrously opened the passenger door on his shiny silver Audi for her.

Chase finally broke the silence a few minutes into the drive.

“Nervous about tonight?”

“No,” she answered way too quickly. His sharp glance had her adding, “It’s only my second night out since the girls were born.”

“Really?”

“Well, there was New York. And I don’t count last year’s Christmas party because I was home by seven.”

“So you haven’t been out for…”

“Eighteen months.” He slanted another look at her, one she couldn’t quite read. “What?”

“Hard to believe.”

“Not really. I have two babies and that tends to put off a lot of guys.”

“A lot of guys are idiots.”

She nodded slowly. “Some are.”

Then they lapsed into silence for the remainder of the trip.

As they drove down Pennsylvania Avenue, the gentle flutter in Vanessa’s stomach had morphed into a serious case of butterflies.

There was no guarantee she’d actually see any familiar faces. And even if she did, it wasn’t as if she was scared or anything. But her father had demanded her presence in his world and she’d done that for years, so her sudden disappearance must have raised some eyebrows.

I wonder what they told people.

She glanced over at Chase, his shadowy profile completely focused on the road.

Honestly, what’s the worst that could happen? She’d put on her game face and be Vanessa the Socialite, Chase’s polished arm decoration for a few hours. Maybe she’d bump into an acquaintance or two and have to charm her way around the questions. Either way, she’d been doing this since she was eleven, so it wasn’t as if it was difficult.

Second nature. Easy as pie.

And she’d also have time to work her charm on Chase Harrington, although exactly how she’d get him to change his mind was a bit of a mystery at the moment. Despite her lack of planning, she wasn’t about to give up on that manuscript just yet.

She rolled her neck gently, feeling the familiar pull of shoulder and back muscles stretch and pop into position as Chase drove into the parking garage.

Game on.

* * *

She was a vision of aristocratic beauty and poise, Chase thought as they mounted the steps to the impressively lit Jefferson building. She’d done her hair into some kind of Elizabeth Tayloresque updo, the sleek style and halter neck emphasizing her bare shoulders. Her smooth, pale skin glowed, a welcome change from the endless array of tanned bodies. Her only jewelry was a pair of simple silver hoop earrings, and the understatement made her dress—a swirly orange confection—an eye-catcher.

They were nearly at the top of the second flight when her gaze met his and she gave him a small smile.

A smile that somehow made his blood beat a little faster.

And then, something happened. As they took the final stairs and light, warmth and sound hit, her entire demeanor changed.

It was like a curtain coming down: one instant she’d been smiling at him, the next, every single muscle had tightened, pulled taut into a facade of sickeningly familiar aloofness. When he blinked it had spread to her whole body, from her straightened shoulders to her tilted chin and firm posture.

The Perfect look. The superior, I-am-so-much-better-than-you sheen that made him stiffen in involuntary disgust.

He’d had a moment of uncharacteristic conscience-wrestling during the drive over, debating whether to confess he’d deliberately asked her out knowing a bunch of people from her former life would be here. But then he’d shrugged it off. She’d said yes, right? She was a smart girl: the thought must’ve occurred to her too.

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