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She had a similar reaction to Nick’s dimples.
“You make it sound so simple,” he murmured.
“It is simple.”
“It never was simple, and it just got exponentially more complicated.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked slowly.
“I came to Harbor Town to tell you that Lincoln had a new will drawn up. He’s left you half of the wealth and property he didn’t leave to charity. He’s also left you a fifty percent controlling interest in DuBois Enterprises.”
“What?” she asked numbly.
“You’re an heiress, Deidre. The way things stand right now, you’re one of the wealthiest women in the country.”
She might have heard the flutter of a butterfly’s wings in the ensuing silence. She inhaled slowly, trying to ground herself. This could not be happening.
And yet...what was that strange, warm, wonderful feeling growing deep down in her belly?
He made me his heiress. Lincoln truly did believe I was his daughter. His faith was his proof. Lincoln hadn’t required the scientific variety.
Something shivered through her. It took Deidre a moment to recognize the feeling as pure joy.
* * *
Nick decided that if Deidre Kavanaugh had had any part in manipulating Linc to alter his will in her favor, she certainly was one hell of an actress. Every nuance of her face and body suggested she was utterly stunned by the news she was an heiress to a massive fortune.
“He didn’t,” she whispered, obviously in shock.
“He did.”
“Lincoln can’t have meant it. There must be a mistake. I’m a nurse, not a businesswoman,” she said hollowly.
“From your reaction, am I to assume you didn’t have prior knowledge of the change of will?”
“I had no idea,” she said. Her spine stiffened when he cocked one eyebrow in a show of subtle disbelief, testing her. She leaned across the console toward him. He caught the subtle scent of her floral perfume and, for a few seconds, his thoughts scattered. Deidre had a way of making him forget practical goals and objectives.
“I resent your tone,” she said. “I suppose you have it all worked out, don’t you? You figure I manipulated and cajoled a sick, vulnerable man into leaving me all his money, is that it?”
“What have I told you, time and again while we were at The Pines together, Deidre?” he murmured softly.
She snapped her jaw closed. He found himself studying her beautiful face cast in the dim dashboard lights. What was it about her? Her elegance mingled with a sort of bad-girl charm. She fascinated him, whether he wanted to be fascinated or not.
“That you’re Lincoln’s man,” she answered his question, her chin tilted at the stubborn angle to which he’d grown all too accustomed. “That you’ll do whatever is in your power to make sure his wishes are carried out,” she quoted the familiar refrain.
He nodded. Their meetings at The Pines had been few and fleeting, not to mention charged. Nevertheless, Nick was glad to hear he’d imparted that particular message loud and clear to her.
“There’s something else I want you to know,” Nick said.
“What?”
“Until I can rest assured you’re his daughter, that Lincoln was of sound mind when he drew up the new will, and that you had no part in coercing Lincoln’s actions in the last days of his life, I plan to contest the will.”
She flinched as if he’d just slapped her. Regret spiked through his awareness, the strength of it catching him off guard. She’d gotten under his skin. He could understand why Lincoln had been so taken by her. But the fact remained, the way things stood, there was a good chance Deidre and he would be sitting across a courtroom from each other sometime in the near future. He had no right to find her fascinating.
“You just don’t get it,” she said, her low voice shaking with fury. “I nursed and cared for Lincoln with every ounce of compassion and skill I possess. Ask any of the servants, or the hospice nurses, or Dr. Leland. Everything I did, I did with the hope of having him for another day...another minute.”
“That may be true. I’m suspending judgment on the matter.”
She gave an incredulous bark of laughter. “Suspending judgment until when?”
“Until I have the opportunity to observe you, understand your character, your motivations, your life. I’ll be staying in Harbor Town for the next few days or weeks or however long it takes to do that.”
“Who says I plan to stay in Harbor Town?”
He shrugged. “I’ll make a point to go wherever you go. I hope you’ll cooperate with this. If you’ve got nothing to hide, why should it matter if I spend time with you and get to know you better?”
“Why don’t you just get that private investigator you hired before to do it?” she asked scathingly.
“I don’t trust his powers of observation as much as I do my own.” He held her stare. He watched as her expression went slack in disbelief as she realized he was dead serious.
“You’re crazy,” she whispered.
“No,” he corrected. “I’m determined. And I’m committed to the health and well-being of DuBois Enterprises and its thousands of employees.”
She made a sound of disgust, but Nick was undaunted. He studied her in the dim light. She’d combed her short, golden blond hair behind her ears, where it curled in gleaming waves. It looked silken soft. She was clearly a beauty, but it wasn’t her physical attributes that made him want to touch her—at least not entirely. It was the way Deidre carried herself, the way she moved with a careless grace and bone-deep confidence. Without ever trying, she was a classic American beauty with an edge. A perfect, prickly, long-stemmed rose...
...Grace Kelly with a serious attitude.
Beautiful, fierce and fascinating Deidre may be, but he’d come here with a mission. Either he’d determine that Deidre was somehow unworthy of Linc’s estate or he’d gain her compliance. It just wasn’t an option to be left at the helm of DuBois Enterprises without any real control, watching helplessly while the great company crashed, taking thousands of employees and dependents down with it.
“What are you really doing here, Nick?” she asked warily.
“I’ve told you. I’m here to learn more about you. If I’m given the opportunity to get to know you for a period of time without you avoiding me, I’ll come to a conclusion about you. We can move on regarding Lincoln’s last will and testament.”
“So what...you plan to investigate me? Stalk me? Harass my friends and family? Lurk around and take pictures of me through a telephoto lens?”
“Would I catch anything interesting?” he asked, hiding a smile.
“I’d make sure you did,” she promised so menacingly he raised his eyebrows. Seeing her slender, elegant figure swathed in a sophisticated dress had temporarily made him forget Deidre was a warrior. The background report he’d commissioned had painted a picture of a courageous, headstrong, fiercely independent woman who refused to settle down into any traditional path. She was not only a collegiate championship diver; she’d been an expert trick skier, financing much of her college education by performing in water shows. Her military record was stellar. She’d even been awarded a medal for entering an active area of combat to save one of her patients when a field hospital had been unexpectedly attacked.
“You can’t plan on staying in Harbor Town,” she continued, looking at him like he was possibly mad. “It’s hardly a place for movers and shakers.”
“I’ll manage. I work on the road all the time. The hotel is offering me decent business facilities. I’ve made it clear at company headquarters that we’ll keep my presence here under wraps for a while. I don’t want the press getting hold of the story about the will yet. It’s going to become a media frenzy when they do find out.”
“This hotel?” Deidre asked, pointing at the building behind them.
He nodded.
She closed her eyes and he sensed it again, her extreme fatigue, her vulnerability.
“There’s another reason we should spend some time getting to know each other better, Deidre.”
She opened her eyes. He couldn’t see their hue in the dim light emanating from the dashboard, but he knew they were an unusual blue-gray color. He could clearly see the line of her jaw and the delicate shell shape of her ear.
Was she made so perfectly everywhere?
“I’m afraid to ask,” she murmured.
“Lincoln wrote me a letter before he died. He specifically asked me to get to know you better.”
“Why?” she demanded. She leaned toward him, her fatigue seemingly disappearing at the mention of the man she believed to be her father. Her curiosity bordered on hunger. It struck him as understandable, but sad, that she was so desperate for information about Linc. Again, he inhaled her clean, floral feminine scent. His muscles clenched tight in restraint.
“Linc knew I had my doubts about your claim to be his child. Maybe he thought us spending time together would put those doubts to rest. He likely also knew that no one else could teach you about your inheritance as well as I could.”
“Can I read the letter?”
“No.”
She started at his abruptness.
He shut his eyes briefly when he saw her hurt, incredulous expression. Lincoln’s letter had been heartbreakingly honest, almost childlike in its plea. Nick had been moved deeply by that letter, but at the same time, it’d made him question whether or not Lincoln was of sound mind when he’d changed his will. He couldn’t tell Deidre that, though. She’d just accuse him of causing his prejudice against her to influence his opinion about Lincoln’s motivations and state of mind.
“Not now you can’t, Deidre,” he said quietly. “I have my reasons for saying that. Don’t take offense. Please.”
But she had taken offense, he realized. Her backbone went ramrod straight.
“May I ask why it is that you believe you have the right to constantly call my morals and character into question, why you have the right to investigate me like a common criminal, when I don’t even have the right to ask a simple thing of you?”
“I didn’t mean you can’t ask me things,” he grated out.
“It sounded that way to me,” she said, picking up her evening bag from her lap and retrieving the centerpiece from the floorboard. She reached for the car door and then suddenly went still, her hand outstretched. She turned, her brow crinkled in consternation. Her mouth fell open as if something had just dawned on her.
“Wait a second...” she muttered.
“What?”
“The other half of Lincoln’s estate—he left it to you, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” Nick admitted.
The weighty silence was shattered by Deidre’s desperate bark of laughter.
“Do you mean to tell me—”
“That’s right,” he said more calmly than he felt. “My hands are tied without you. There’s a major acquisition deal I’ve been brokering now for months, for instance, and even though the time is ripe for DuBois Enterprises to buy, I’m powerless to act without your consent. The way things stand legally right now, I can’t make a major decision on behalf of DuBois Enterprises without your agreement. So for the time being, we’re partners. Whether we like it or not.”
Chapter Two
The next morning Deidre called Colleen, in much need of some sisterly commiseration and support. They met up at Jake’s Place, a popular Harbor Town hangout, for brunch. Colleen’s fork halted in midair when Deidre told her all the bizarre, gory details from her meeting with Nick the previous night.
“Lincoln left you half of his estate and fifty percent controlling interest in his company?” Colleen asked, clearly flabbergasted.
Deidre nodded and sipped her coffee.
“But he was one of the wealthiest men in the country. That means...you’re bloody rich, Deidre.”
Deidre chuckled at her sister’s bald statement. “Not if Nick Malone has his say in the matter. He told me he plans to contest the will if he decides I coerced Lincoln in any way.”
“Coerced,” Colleen said, looking insulted. “You mean he suspects you took advantage of Lincoln? What’s he think? That you drugged him and stuck a pen in his hand, telling him to sign a new will? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You’re a skilled nurse and a compassionate woman. I’ve never seen someone so dedicated and concerned about another human being as you were that sweet, fragile man. Doesn’t Nick even know you?”
Deidre smiled, heartened by her sister’s show of faith in her. She would have been lost if it weren’t for Colleen being at her side after Lincoln had died. She was the perfect confidant, since she’d witnessed firsthand Nick’s suspicion of her.
“According to Nick, he doesn’t. That’s the whole problem,” Deidre sighed, setting a forkful of pancakes down on her plate. It was hard to eat when her life felt like an out-of-control carnival ride.
“And Nick said he’s here to investigate you?” Colleen asked as she resumed eating.
“Not exactly, no,” Deidre admitted. “He said he needs an opportunity to observe me, determine my character. But it all amounts to the same thing, doesn’t it? He’s already convinced I’m a gold digger, so I’m sure he’ll see whatever he expects to see.”
She noticed Colleen’s pensive expression as she ate her omelet. “What?”
“Why did Lincoln do it?” Colleen wondered. “Why would he split his estate and the control of his company equally between you and Nick?”
“I have no idea. Especially when I specifically told him I didn’t want or expect anything from him. I have a hard enough time balancing my checkbook. How in the world could I possibly make decisions about a multibillion-dollar conglomerate?” Her gaze sharpened on her sister. “Do you think he did it because he wasn’t in his right mind?” she asked in a hushed, worried tone. If that were the case, it was possible Lincoln’s faith that she was his daughter was part of a demented delirium, as well.
“We both know Lincoln’s level of consciousness fluctuated because of the tumor. He was sharp as a tack at times, but in others he was really out of it. It’s my understanding that for the will to be binding, his attorney and other witnesses would have to attest he was in his right mind when he signed the document. But that’s not what I was wondering about just now. You don’t suppose there’s any possibility that Lincoln arranged things this way so that you and Nick were forced to spend time with one another, do you?” Colleen asked tentatively.
“Why would he do that?”
Colleen’s shrug was a little too nonchalant for Deidre’s liking. “Maybe he noticed the sparks between you two and was doing a little matchmaking with his will.”
Deidre rolled her eyes. “Those sparks are purely from dislike on my part and outright suspicion on Nick’s. He suspects I manipulated a vulnerable, sick man into leaving me billions of dollars. How can you think he would be remotely interested in me in the romantic sense?” Deidre asked, her cheeks heating.
Was the fact that she found Nick attractive really so evident for everyone to see? Colleen’s comment had called to mind Nick’s reference to the letter Lincoln had left him. She hadn’t told Colleen about that letter yet. For some reason, Lincoln making the request of Nick to get to know her better struck her as highly significant...highly intimate.
“So you’re definitely not attracted to Nick Malone?” Colleen asked, her eyelids narrowed as she studied her.
“It’s sort of hard to be attracted to someone when they’re looking at you like you’re a slimy criminal,” she sidestepped.
“Yeah, I see what you mean. Well one thing is pretty straightforward. Nick Malone is gorgeous. He’s at the top of every most eligible bachelor’s list.” She gave Deidre an I’m just stating the truth glance when Deidre looked at her incredulously. “You don’t believe me? I looked Nick up online while we were staying at The Pines.”
“Colleen,” Deidre chastised, grinning. She’d frequently teased her sister while they were in Tahoe that she should surgically get her hand grafted to her iPad for convenience sake. Living in the Middle East and Europe for as long as she did, Deidre didn’t share her fellow Americans’ reliance on personal modern technology.
“Check this out,” Colleen said, reaching inside her bag and withdrawing her iPad. A few seconds later she handed the tablet across the table. Deidre took it with a mixture of doubt, amusement and curiosity.
An image of Nick was on the screen. He was leading a sophisticated brunette with legs that went clear to her armpits out of the back of a black sedan. The woman wore an elaborate hat that probably had cost the equivalent of Deidre’s annual salary as a nurse. Beneath the photo, Deidre read the inscription, Churchill Downs—Nick Malone, chief executive officer of DuBois Enterprises, and Danielle Geddy, of the Geddy Banking Trust, attend the Derby Festival Preview Party. The woman’s smile was like headlight beams. Nick looked somber, as usual, and perhaps a tad irritated as he pinned the photographer with his icy stare.
“There’s more,” Colleen said wryly from across the table.
