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Married For His Heir
Sara Orwig
A billionaire, a baby and a bride of convenience? Oil baron Nick Duncan swore off love after the death of his wife and son. But all that changes after Talia Barton introduces him to his daughter. Talia’s determined the child won’t be left alone, but she never expected Nick to propose marriage – and mean it!
A billionaire, a baby and a bride of convenience?
Oil baron Nick Duncan swore off entanglements of the heart after his wife’s and son’s untimely death. So when Talia Barton introduces him to his orphaned daughter from a grief-fueled fling, he knows he’s in trouble. Talia won’t let the motherless child she’s been caring for become a ward of the state. But she never expects the handsome Texan to propose marriage...and actually mean it!
SARA ORWIG, from Oklahoma, loves family, friends, dogs, books, long walks, sunny beaches and palm trees. She is married to and in love with the guy she met in college. They have three children and six grandchildren. Sara’s one hundredth published novel was a July 2016 release. With a master’s degree in English, Sara has written historical romance, mainstream fiction and contemporary romance. Sara welcomes readers on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/saraorwigwriter/) or at www.saraorwig.com (http://www.saraorwig.com).
Also By Sara Orwig
Expecting the Rancher’s Child
The Rancher’s Baby Bargain
The Rancher’s Cinderella Bride
The Texan’s Baby Proposal
Expecting a Lone Star Heir
Married for His Heir
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Married for His Heir
Sara Orwig
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-07624-1
MARRIED FOR HIS HEIR
© 2018 Sara Orwig
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
With thanks to Stacy Boyd, who made this book possible.
Thank you to Tahra Seplowin for fixing things and answering questions.
With thanks always to Maureen Walters.
Also, with love to my family, who fill my days with joy.
Contents
Cover (#ub7ecb9a2-e961-5f4b-8087-bfd76dee7df8)
Back Cover Text (#u23ae2ea7-2209-50f9-89df-4dbab3dc80a7)
About the Author (#u39210f88-bcab-5ae1-8efc-4ffda4f2e9e5)
Booklist (#uc4249c9a-675a-55b2-bb82-b9a8d91d77f3)
Title Page (#u565040f8-2278-50f7-8d08-51375abdc837)
Copyright (#ufdad4ac3-ef7e-53ba-86ae-131104b0ac40)
Dedication (#u9b6a9352-80f8-5365-bd34-593cf3876f7f)
One (#ue495f9bd-f721-518c-bf76-dfae517a3cca)
Two (#uf47a0447-c42b-5129-ba74-96bf6ca8727e)
Three (#udfc1c53d-08d3-58a5-988e-025a51a3ca9f)
Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
One (#uc326afac-62c1-547b-a7ac-f9c46086a279)
“Just remember, curiosity killed the cat.” Nick Duncan shot his brother a narrow-eyed look, as if willing him to lay off.
But Stan didn’t take the hint. He merely shook his head and continued. “What do you expect, Nick? A woman you don’t know is coming by to tell you about an inheritance you didn’t know you had. Of course I’m curious.”
Nick had to agree, the man had a point.
He stepped off the porch into the front yard of his cattle ranch, the ND Ranch, taking a moment to let his gaze sweep over the landscaped front yard, green from the constant watering. But nothing could distract his thoughts. An inheritance?
“And you say our attorney told you to accept the appointment with her?” Stan asked, stepping up beside his oldest brother.
“Yeah. Apparently, she went to Horace and talked to him instead of calling me. How she found him, I don’t know. That should be personal information.” He swiped a hand across his neck. “I’ve been racking my brain, but heck, I don’t know any Talia Barton, not in the oil business, not from ranching, not socially. And I’m sure I’d remember. Since I stepped down as CEO at Duncan Energy, I don’t stay in Dallas. Only when I have to go to board meetings or something special. This ranch is where I live. I can’t think of any woman named Talia. There have been so damn few women in my life since I became a widower.”
“You mean no one that you’ve been interested in,” Stan clarified. “You have a steady stream of women coming to see you, bringing you enough casseroles and desserts to open a restaurant out here. I’ll bet you have a fridge filled with food in your Dallas house, too.”
“Oh, yeah. The ladies don’t want me to starve. They’ve got good intentions, but I’m not interested.” He hadn’t been interested in a woman in three years—and he didn’t figure he ever would be again.
He took off his Stetson and swiped it across his jean-clad thigh, as if he could banish the memories as easily as he did the dust on his hat. All this time and thoughts of Regina could creep up on him at the oddest times.
He squared his shoulders and replaced the hat. “Well, no matter who she is, this Talia Barton can come out here to see me. I’m not driving to Dallas. I told Horace.”
He’d also asked the attorney questions. Lots of them. But he hadn’t gotten any answers. Whatever this mystery woman had told Horace, he wouldn’t say. He’d merely insisted Nick make an appointment to meet her.
“Is Horace coming to the ranch?”
“No, I told him he didn’t need to. Whatever she intends to do, this meeting should be short.” Nick turned to his brother, looking into eyes that were as green as his own, and flecked with gold. “Come to think of it, Stan, you might as well stay. Whatever inheritance I’m getting, it may eventually involve you.”
“Oh, no,” Stan said, grinning. “I have my new horse loaded into my trailer and I’m taking him home. I’ll hear later what the mysterious Ms. Barton is giving you. And, by the way, have you told Grandmother?”
Nick rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding? Of course not. At least not until I know why we’re meeting.”
Stan laughed. “No, I guess not. I sure as hell wouldn’t tell her until I knew and maybe not even then.”
Nick clapped his brother on the back. “Come on—let’s go inside. I’m not waiting out here to greet Ms. Barton,” he said, turning for his ranch home.
“No, no.” Stan shook his head. “I told you, I’m leaving. This appointment is for you and it’s private. You can call and tell me what the hell a woman you don’t even know has for you.”
“I’m still tempted to ignore Horace and refuse to see her.”
“Horace has been our family attorney for years and your attorney since you turned twenty-one. You do what he says and meet with her. You know he’s not giving you bad advice.”
“I don’t know. Any attorney who won’t confide in his own client whom he has known since I was five years old is a damn poor attorney, if you ask me.”
“You know Horace has to have a good reason for not telling you what’s involved.” Stan started to leave, his wavy brown hair tangling in the breeze. “And it must be something good.”
“If it isn’t, I’m getting a new attorney,” Nick grumbled, gazing down the long ranch drive that disappeared around a curve where a tall cottonwood’s leaves fluttered in the wind.
Stan left, his boots clicking on the brick walk as he headed to his shiny black pickup with a horse trailer hitched to it.
While he rubbed the brown stubble covering his jaw, Nick watched the plume of gray dust Stan’s truck stirred as he drove away. In minutes the dust settled and he went inside to wait in the study. He only wished his thoughts could settle just as easily. But he couldn’t still the questions that swirled in his mind.
Talia Barton...
Since he had become a widower, he’d had a few one-nighters, all meaningless encounters, but not many of them and not in a long time. He had been working late hours to wear himself out, and working out before and after handling ranch tasks. He didn’t date and he didn’t want to. So how did he know Talia Barton?
It was fifteen anguishing minutes later when he heard a car pull up the ranch drive. He went to the window and watched as a black car slowed and stopped in front of the house.
In minutes the driver emerged from the car and Nick’s interest increased a fraction as he viewed a tall, leggy blonde in high heels, a navy suit and a white blouse. Looking as if she had just stepped out of an office or a photo shoot, she would turn heads wherever she went. If she had any persuasive abilities, he could see why Horace had told him to meet her.
He forced himself to stand still. His house manager served as a butler, and since Royce knew she was coming, he would bring her to the study. Instead, Nick watched her come up the steps and his pulse jumped. The woman was gorgeous.
He walked across the room to the open door. In seconds he heard Royce talking to her, and when they came into sight, Nick stepped forward. “Thanks, Royce.” He extended his hand to the woman. “Ms. Barton, I’m Nick Duncan,” he said as Royce left them.
The moment he wrapped his hand around her soft, warm hand, he felt a sizzling jolt of awareness, something that hadn’t happened since his wife. The reaction startled him and he looked more closely at her.
He saw a flicker in her thickly lashed blue eyes that caused his pulse to jump another notch. She felt something, too, and that knowledge fueled his reaction.
She cleared her throat and withdrew her hand. “I’m Talia Barton. Please call me Talia,” she said in a soft voice. There was a directness about her that made him feel she was a no-nonsense person, and once again, he thought that people probably did what she wanted.
“Come have a seat where we can talk,” he urged, motioning her into the study. “I’m curious what it is that you couldn’t tell me about by phone,” he said, his interest growing because he was absolutely certain he had never seen this woman in his life before now. He would not forget her. “My attorney has urged me to see you, so whatever it is, you’ve certainly convinced him.”
“I think you’ll agree after you hear me out,” she said, following him into the room. She took the leather chair he indicated and sat facing him.
Nick couldn’t resist looking when she crossed her long, shapely legs. His reaction to her startled him again. He hadn’t had this kind of response to a woman since his wife’s death almost three years ago. The anniversary of the plane crash that had taken his wife and baby would be in August. Since his loss, it was as if he had become numb, half dead himself and oblivious of women, except for a few one-nighters at parties far from the ranch.
Why was he having this reaction to this mystery woman?
* * *
Talia looked into green eyes flecked with gold and realized there would be nothing easy about this meeting. To add to her jittery nerves, Nick Duncan was not only handsome and appealing, but there was some kind of vibrant chemistry between them.
In every way she possibly could, including hiring a private investigator to get information on Nick, Talia had checked into his life. To her relief, all sources reported that Nick Duncan was intelligent, reliable, capable, confident, successful and tough when he needed to be. From all that she could find out, he had been a good husband and father, even though he’d had his son for only a brief time.
Once he’d checked out, she’d gone ahead with her plans to meet him and lay out her problem for him. But she hadn’t planned on this volatile chemistry that had simmered between them from the moment she had walked into the room.
When they had shaken hands the sizzle had startled her. So had the tingles when she’d met his gaze. It wouldn’t matter, though, she told herself, because they would never mean anything to each other. Still, she had been surprised. Since her disastrous marriage while still in college and then divorce, she hadn’t been drawn to any man. Besides, there was too much upheaval in her life now. But somehow, with a mere touch, Nick Duncan broke through all that. He was far more handsome and sexy in person than his pictures indicated. It wasn’t even his personality because he was being polite, cautious and reserved. She knew he wondered why she was there and what she wanted. She might as well tell him and get this over with.
Nothing in her life—not the deaths in her family or her broken marriage—had hurt as much as this. Tears threatened, uncustomary for her, and she swallowed, looking around the room as she fought to get her emotions under control. She had rehearsed what she would say to him, but now that the moment had come and she was actually facing him, she wanted to run to her car and drive home.
And then what? she asked herself. If she didn’t talk to him, the alternative was worse. Nick Duncan had checked out as a successful, intelligent, family-oriented man. A billionaire, owner of the ND Ranch, part owner of Duncan Energy, a company started by his father and now run by the two youngest Duncan brothers with Nick and his brother Stan on the board. Nick was a good rancher, a good businessman, a man who had had his own terrible loss. She had no choice but to do what she’d come here to do. She squared her shoulders and sat up straight, but before she could speak, he broke the awkward silence.
“Do you live around here?” he asked.
“I live in Dallas. I teach art in a two-year college.”
He didn’t know it, but his question gave her the opening she needed. She took a breath and gave him a faint smile.
“Mr. Duncan, I’m—”
“Nick, please,” he prompted her.
