Runaway Heir

by Cardello, Ruth

  “And it got you out of London.”

  “Yes, and mostly it got me out of London. I didn’t understand how much of an impact they thought I could have until I was already here. The local government is considering closing up shop and letting MacAuley be absorbed by surrounding municipalities. That didn’t sound tragic to me until I saw how much it means to Paisley and the others. I’m their Hail Mary pass. If nothing changes, this will soon be a town that used to be. I don’t know if I have what it takes to make a difference here, but I’m going to try.”

  There was a beauty to her honest take on her motivation as well as her desire to do something good. She’d admitted that she’d chosen Iowa because she hadn’t been happy where she was, but she wasn’t merely hiding out. Or whining about how unfair life was. Her yearning to do better for herself included doing good for others. “That’s a lot of expectations to pin on one person.”

  She lifted and dropped a shoulder. “I’m the only one who answered.”

  Humility. There was so much more to this woman than she let the world see, and he wanted to be the one she trusted with all of her. “Do you have a strategy yet?”

  “If I can find something that sets the town apart, I could pitch a photo series to national magazines. Some towns in the area are part of organized wine tours that funnel the tourists through certain places. I’m hoping to create a kick-ass website, put together a media packet, and pull in favors from anyone and everyone to create buzz about the town.”

  “That sounds like a solid plan. Have you thought of asking your family to get involved?”

  She shook her head and looked away. “No. We’re not exactly on great terms right now. Hopefully time away from them will ease some of that.”

  She’d just said that she’d spent a lot of time traveling. Time away from a situation rarely improved it. “Then Iowa sounds like a good place for you.”

  “Yeah, except now I have to explain you.”

  “Because Paisley thinks I might bring business to the area.” He grimaced.

  “Until I tell her otherwise, you’re the potential answer to her prayers.”

  He was in an uncomfortable spot, but one that he’d created for himself. “It was supposed to be a harmless cover story. We’re not currently looking to relocate production.”

  Nicolette met his gaze. “I’ll think of something to tell Paisley. She’ll be disappointed, but you weren’t part of the original plan anyway.”

  “I could stick around and help out.”

  Her hands were gripped together so tightly her knuckles were white. “No,” she said firmly and without the apparent need to think it over.

  Another man might have given up there, but Bryant couldn’t. She might not be in physical danger, but she was suffering. “Let’s go in and get something greasy and bad for us,” he suggested. He opened his car door and waited for a sign that she was willing to join him.

  She searched his face, then seemed to relax a little. “Okay.” He rushed around the car to open her door before she had a chance to. They stood there for a moment, simply looking into each other’s eyes.

  She slipped her hands into her pockets and hunched her shoulders a bit. “I actually love diners,” she said. “Where I grew up, there was one in an old-fashioned trolley. The line to get in was always out the door because they made the best pancakes. The menu changed every week, and I remember running up to the chalkboard to read the new options, so excited each time. Life was really simple then. I miss that.”

  He placed a hand on her back and guided her across the parking lot. “My mother and I would leave the city every Sunday morning and just drive around, stopping at whatever diner we came across. Those are some of my best memories with her.”

  Nicolette tensed beneath his hand. “She’s . . . ?”

  “She died years ago. I still sometimes pick up the phone to call her, then have to remind myself we don’t yet have the technology to reach where she is.”

  “I’m sorry,” Nicolette said with her heart in her eyes.

  “Don’t be. She was an incredible person, and I’m lucky to have had the time with her that I did.”

  “And your father?”

  “Total dick. Still very much alive.”

  Her eyebrows rose, and a small smile stretched her lips. “Doesn’t sound like you forgive as easily as your friends think you do.”

  He stopped to open the door of the diner for her. “I’ve forgiven him for what he did, but I can’t stomach who he is. It took me a while to realize that staying angry with him was hurting me more than it was him. Now I put my energy into positive things and don’t try to change what doesn’t want to be changed.”

  A waitress came over and led them to a booth. Once seated, Nicolette picked up a laminated menu and asked, “Do you ever see your father?”

  “A couple times a year.”

  She pursed her lips. “That’s all I can handle with my family, but it wasn’t always like that. We used to be so close.”

  “My father and I were never close, not even when we all lived in the same house. My mother was the only bond we really had.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly. She fell silent for a moment. “If you’re really interested, I’d like to talk to you more about what I’m planning. Your ideas on how I could improve my strategy could be helpful.”

  “Sounds like a great first date.”

  Her mouth dropped open; then she laughed. “This is not a date.”

  “Then I should definitely stop picturing you naked.”

  She laughed. “I go back and forth between wanting to thank you and smack you.”

  “We could try both,” he joked, then shot her what he hoped was a sexy wink.

  Nicolette laughed again, and her cheeks flushed.

  She was 100 percent adorable and dangerously addictive.

  I don’t want to go back to New York. Not yet.

  Come on, tiger, let me help you save this town.

  Chapter Six

  Maybe it was because she was so hungry, but the BLT she bit into was sheer heaven. Just the right amount of crispy bacon, perfectly toasted bread, and firm tomatoes, with a dash of mayo.

  Was it her loneliness that made Bryant’s company just as wonderful?

  She deliberately didn’t meet his gaze while they ate. He had her all tangled up inside. Her embarrassment over their first meeting still nipped at her heels, but it also felt really good to see him again.

  She wanted to be angry with him. She didn’t want to think about her family and the disaster she’d been at the wedding. Bryant brought that all to the forefront. He’d also set up a situation with Paisley that would either be incredibly awkward or involve lying. She didn’t want either to be part of this fresh start.

  She caught his eye for a moment, and her heart did a funny little skip. Was he really there simply because Alessandro had asked him to check in on her?

  He didn’t look like someone who was plotting against her or her family. When he’d said he didn’t see his father, he’d seemed genuine enough. So he was simply a guy who cared about how she was doing, or he was a really good liar.

  There was definitely a cockiness about him, but it was surprisingly sexy. He caught her watching him and smiled. He was too damn good-looking, and he knew it. She watched him take another bite of his burger. The muscles of his arm bunched, and his shoulders flexed beneath his dark shirt when he reached up to wipe the side of his perfect lips. Their eyes met, and he smiled again. This wasn’t a man who stumbled over himself to impress a woman. What had he said? He simply showed up. Yes, she could see how someone like him wouldn’t have to do more than that.

  Not my type.

  I definitely shouldn’t want to lean over and lick that crumb right off his bottom lip. His tongue darted out, claiming the treat for itself, and she choked on her water. Holy shit.

  The pretty waitress who had taken their order was back, batting her eyelashes at Bryant while asking if everything was to his liking. H
is? Talk about being obvious.

  She obviously hasn’t heard how important I am.

  The waitress didn’t spare Nicolette so much as a glance. Understandable, I guess. Men like Bryant didn’t eat in diners in the middle of Iowa. They weren’t in London or Boston, either. They were in movies. They modeled underwear. He was an opportunity too good to pass up.

  Bryant fielded the woman’s blatant adoration with a polite smile that had Nicolette’s heart doing a crazy dance in her chest. He wasn’t interested in the waitress.

  She tempered her excitement by reminding herself why he was there. Alessandro had sent him. Okay, so he’d flirted with her, but a man like him did that as naturally as he took a breath.

  She pushed her empty plate forward, took another sip of her water, then twirled the glass in her hand before finally meeting his gaze. “Thanks for lunch. This wasn’t actually a bad idea.”

  “Easy on the compliments, or I might start to think you like me.”

  “I don’t.” She hated that her cheeks warmed. What am I? Five? Stop being an idiot. She took a calming breath. “But I don’t dislike you.”

  He pounded his chest with a fist. “Words that warm my heart.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Hey.” He leaned forward. “So tell me about this traveling you did. You worked for Photographers Without Borders. Would I have seen any of your work?”

  His question was an unwelcome splash of reality. “Probably not. Some of it went out in flyers a while back, but my most recent stuff didn’t end anywhere.”

  “Why not?”

  She shrugged, not really wanting to think about that, either.

  “Tell me,” he insisted.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re pushy?” She shook her head.

  He glanced skyward as if taking her question seriously. “Pushy? No. Irresistible. Kissable. Seductive.” Then he flashed that oh-so-perfect smile at her. “You know, all the stuff you told me I was when you were drunk.”

  “Grappa goggles,” she joked, but she was having difficulty looking anywhere but into those beautiful blue-green eyes of his. It was too easy to imagine his strong arms lifting her so she could straddle his waist while he kissed her neck and tore at her clothing.

  “Good one.” His deep laugh fit perfectly with the rest of him. Of course, he would have the kind of laugh that made women turn to see if his face matched the image it projected. Strong. Young. Sure of himself.

  After a moment, he said, “So why wasn’t your recent work used?”

  Nicolette tore her gaze away from his and took a moment before answering. She hadn’t talked about it to anyone yet. The idea of spilling that story to Mr. Dreamy Eyes wasn’t tempting.

  Hi, during our first meeting I got shitfaced and passed out. This time, I thought it would be a nice touch to vomit my insecurities all over you and send you on your way.

  That’s how I roll.

  Yeah, no.

  “Things just didn’t work out the way I thought they would.”

  “Are you going to tell me, or do I have to stare at you for an awkwardly long time until you crack under the pressure?”

  A smile tugged at Nicolette’s lips. He’s not staying. Does it really matter what he thinks of me? Coming to Iowa was about finding me again. Maybe it’s time to say it out loud.

  “When I joined Photographers Without Borders, I thought I’d be doing something important. Saving the world—that kind of stuff. I had two assignments in Africa and one in South America. I saw so many people in need.”

  “But?”

  Just say it. Let it out. “Even though I was there, they didn’t let me do anything. I was really a glorified coffee maker. I found out why during my last assignment. They were drilling water wells to discourage the use of the contaminated river water. I took so many amazing photos, but not one made their website. When I asked why, my supervisor said I was only there because my grandmother had been generous with her support. However, when it came to choosing which photos to use, he needed to choose the best, and they weren’t mine.” Those words cut just as deeply in her memories as when she’d first heard them. “As an added kicker, he told me to relax and enjoy the fact that my photos would always make their way into museums and art exhibits regardless of my lack of talent—my grandmother would make sure of that.”

  “What an ass. Was that before or after you turned him down?”

  “I didn’t—” She thought back to the number of times he’d come to her tent to ask her a question or had requested she stop by his to pick something up. “I don’t know. Nothing ever happened between us, but he may have wanted more.”

  “That’s how it sounds.”

  “He was right, though. I do have photos in a museum that probably don’t belong there.”

  “Don’t let that douche squat in your headspace.”

  She lifted and dropped a shoulder. “He didn’t say anything I didn’t already know.”

  Bryant raised his hand for the waitress to approach. “Blueberry pie with ice cream?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Sugar makes every pity party more bearable.”

  “You wanted to know,” Nicolette said with sarcasm.

  “I did—I do.” He ordered two coffees and the dessert, then turned his attention back to Nicolette. “Just calling it what it is.”

  She shook her head. “Thanks. I feel so much better.” What did I really think would come out of sharing that story?

  He held her gaze, and although she wanted to, she couldn’t look away. “No, you don’t, and you won’t until you do something to prove that asshole wrong.”

  “Like save a dying town?” she asked just above a whisper.

  “Exactly like that.”

  The waitress returned with the pie and two cups of coffee. After she left, Nicolette said, “I’m going to do it.”

  “I know you will.”

  Nicolette filled a teaspoon with sugar and dumped it into her coffee. “You have a lot of faith in someone you just met.”

  “I have good instincts.”

  She laughed without humor. “Really? Lucky you. Most days I can’t even figure myself out.”

  “You don’t seem that complicated to me. You don’t like where you are in your life, and you’re looking for a way to change that.”

  “It sounds a lot better when you say it than it does in here.” She motioned toward her head.

  “Then you need to see yourself through my eyes.” He cupped her face and caressed her temple with his thumb. “Because the woman I’m looking at is incredible.”

  If it were possible to bottle a moment and save it forever, she would have chosen that one—the feel of his hand on her face and the overwhelming sensation of being accepted just the way she was. “I want to be the person you think I am.”

  His thumb came down to trace her lips. “You already are.”

  “I’m not.” Nicolette sat back, pulling away from his touch. “Not yet.” She rubbed her hands over her face. “I’m sorry. I came here to clear my head, and this is—this is nice, but—”

  “But?”

  There was no good way to articulate her inner panic. He was saying everything she wanted to hear, and that was part of the problem. It was too perfect. “I need—”

  “Yes?”

  To start making better decisions. “You to drive me back, then leave.”

  “Okay.” He straightened, waved for the check, and paid it. His expression remained carefully blank as he stood.

  She joined him. “I’m sorry.” A pang of guilt held her temporarily rooted to the spot. He’d come a long way to make sure she was okay. He’d listened while she talked about a problem that didn’t seem as bad now that she’d said it aloud.

  Am I a fool to tell him to go? That thought was interrupted by the waitress handing Bryant a napkin with her phone number written on it. He accepted it, then stood there, looking down into Nicolette’s eyes. For a moment, time stopped.

  Would h
e pocket it?

  What was he thinking?

  He dropped the napkin on the table and gave her a long look. A lump rose in Nicolette’s throat. I wish I believed in happy endings.

  She turned and walked out of the diner ahead of him.

  Bryant started the car engine and waited. He turned with the intention of making a joke that might lighten the mood but stopped when their eyes met. There were so many layers to her, and he wanted to know all of them.

  His phone beeped, but he didn’t answer it.

  With almost comic timing, hers announced an incoming message as well.

  Then his.

  And hers again.

  Neither of them reached for their phones.

  “Well, we’re popular,” she said lightly.

  “So it would seem,” he said. “Not curious about who is trying to contact you?”

  “Not really. I have a pretty good idea of who it would be and what they’d say. I’m not ready to have those conversations.”

  His phone beeped again. “Me either.”

  Her eyes flew to his. “Who are you avoiding?”

  “Someone who doesn’t understand why I’m here.”

  “Really? That’s exactly who I’m avoiding. So who thought you shouldn’t come to Iowa?” He loved that he had piqued her interest.

  “My business partner, Lonsdale Carver. I have a few projects on the table that I put on hold.”

  “To find me?”

  “To see you again.”

  Her cheeks went the most beautiful rosy color again. She opened her mouth as if she were about to say something, then closed it again without voicing a word.

  She doesn’t trust me . . . yet.

  He took out his phone. “I have an idea. I don’t want to answer Lon. You don’t want to answer whomever is writing to you. We should help each other out.”

  “How?”

  He held out his phone. “You answer one of my messages, and I’ll answer one of yours.”

  “No.”

  He shook his head in mock disappointment. “And here I thought you were so brave.”

  Nicolette took out her own phone and checked who had written to her. Her sudden smile became pure trouble. “Fine. Welcome to my world.” She handed him her phone and held her hand out for his. “One message.”