Secret Billionaire on Her Doorstep

by Michelle Douglas

  He stared. ‘Why not?’

  ‘And, while boys were certainly mentioned during our shopping day,’ she continued, ‘they by no means formed the major part of our conversation. We talked about girlfriends and books and movies and so many other things.’ Things she’d noticed Lissy hadn’t mentioned around Owen.

  ‘So...she’s not obsessed with boys?’

  ‘No more than any other sixteen-year-old girl. And I’ve got to tell you, Owen, you need to ease off a bit or you’re going to smother her with disapproval.’

  His mouth tightened.

  ‘I know it comes from a good place. From a desire to protect her...’

  ‘Of course I want to protect her! I know how ugly the world can be. I don’t want her ever to suffer the way my mother did.’

  Oh, Owen. He hadn’t been able to protect his mother so he was determined to protect his little sister.

  She blinked hard against the burn in her eyes. ‘But Lissy has Margaret and Jack, who both sound smart and savvy. They aren’t neglectful, are they? They love her? You trust them, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course I do!’

  ‘Then leave the parenting to them.’

  His jaw dropped.

  ‘Both you and Lissy would be better served if you were the approachable big brother she could confide in without fear of being judged or having her head snapped off.’

  He ran a hand over his face. ‘You make me sound like the worst of grumps.’

  ‘I know you’re not. And deep down Lissy does too. But she’s a teenager. At her age everything takes on an added edge that can feel pointed and overwhelming. She thinks you don’t trust her.’

  His gaze speared to hers and she shrugged.

  ‘Imagine how that makes her feel.’

  Very slowly he nodded.

  She hesitated, but those grey eyes were on her in a heartbeat, sharpening at whatever they saw in her face.

  ‘There’s more?’ he asked.

  Help! She was about to embark into truly personal territory. ‘She mentioned someone called Fiona...’

  His head reared back and it took all her courage to continue.

  ‘I got the impression she’s an old girlfriend of yours.’

  He gave the briefest of nods.

  ‘I also got the impression that something happened between the two of them.’

  Everything about him went on high alert. ‘Do you know what?’

  She shook her head. ‘But if you decide to raise the topic—when you decide to raise the topic,’ she amended, because she could see that he fully intended to do so, ‘tread carefully. Instinct tells me she really hurt Lissy’s feelings.’

  Her stomach churned at his sudden pallor and the self-recrimination reflected in his eyes.

  ‘I expect Fiona didn’t mean to cause any harm, but—’

  ‘Then you’d expect wrong.’

  The ice in his voice had a chill chasing down her spine.

  ‘Fiona and I were engaged.’

  What? To be married?

  ‘But she wasn’t the woman I thought she was. It never occurred to me she’d take her anger out on Lissy.’ His lips twisted. ‘Evidently I was too caught up in my own pity party.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Owen. I—’

  ‘You’ve nothing to apologise for. I appreciate all you’ve said.’ He nodded. ‘And I will tread carefully. But I am going to fix this.’

  He clasped her hands briefly, and she could see something inside him had lightened.

  ‘Thank you.’

  She found a smile of her own. ‘Well...thank you for organising today’s meeting. It was great to meet Frances’s friends.’

  ‘I was happy to help.’ He sobered again, his brow creasing. ‘But the woman Josephine, Betty and Eliza described today...the Frances from those earlier years...is a stranger to me. She sounded so vibrant and full of life...’

  It hadn’t occurred to Callie how her quest might affect him. She didn’t want to mar his memory of his godmother. He’d loved Frances. She ached to reach out and squeeze his arm in silent sympathy and let him know he wasn’t alone. But she hesitated too long and the moment passed.

  His frown deepened. ‘What happened between her and Richard seemed to break her.’

  ‘I wonder why, though. I know love can be a tricky thing, but...’

  His snort told her he considered that an understatement.

  ‘But Frances sounded like a strong woman,’ she said.

  ‘Your point being?’

  She pressed her hands together, gazing at the column of his throat rather than meeting the misty grey of his eyes.

  ‘Very few of us manage to get through life without making a fool of ourselves romantically at least once, right?’

  There was an intriguing sprinkle of hair at the vee of Owen’s shirt and—Stop it! She deliberately made herself think of Dominic and familiar anger flared in her chest.

  ‘I sure as hell have. And, after what you just said about Fiona, I guess you have too.’

  ‘Yep.’

  She swallowed at the way his lips thinned. There was a story there, but she refused to ask about it.

  ‘But most of us don’t turn into recluses because of it. Frances made a mistake about Richard—’ just as Callie had with Dominic ‘—but so what?’

  Owen blinked.

  ‘I’m not saying that to be callous. I don’t doubt he hurt her really badly. But I still don’t get it.’

  ‘Josephine said she felt things too deeply. And she did marry her mistake. We didn’t marry ours, and that has to make a difference.’ He stilled. ‘At least I didn’t.’

  She shook her head, barely suppressing a shudder. ‘Me either.’

  ‘She trusted Richard and he abused that trust. What he did was despicable.’

  ‘You won’t get any argument from me about that. It’s clear he broke her heart and disillusioned her. But did he break her spirit too? We’ve just agreed she was a strong woman, and it’s clear that she had access to a lot of resources, so why turn herself into a modern-day Miss Havisham?’

  ‘What are you thinking?’

  ‘That thing Betty said about Frances breaking her own heart... What if it wasn’t Richard she was referring to?’ The thought formed as she spoke. ‘What if it was whatever happened between her and my mother?’

  He was silent for several long moments. ‘If you’re right,’ he finally said, ‘you could be opening a huge can of worms.’

  Her heart sank. Maybe she should let sleeping dogs lie.

  ‘You must want this job badly...’

  The job! She straightened. Of course she wanted the job. Of course she was going to prise the lids off all cans that needed jemmying.

  ‘So what now?’ he asked.

  She pulled in a breath to bolster her resolve. ‘Josephine is going to text me the details of my mother’s friend. As soon as she does I’ll arrange a meeting. Hopefully she’ll know the truth and will be willing to share it. If not, then maybe she suspects something or can toss me a bone. If she doesn’t...’ She trailed off.

  He leaned his elbows on his knees and stared at the boat pond. Three children were sailing remote-controlled boats and Callie couldn’t help thinking it looked like fun.

  ‘You also have the letters, so there’s a chance you could find a clue there. Or maybe even the truth.’

  Except so far she hadn’t had the courage to open them. Dread flooded her every time she picked one up. Callie was an adult now. Her mother didn’t get to make decisions for her any more. But there had to be a good reason she’d never told Callie about Frances—and a good reason why she’d never been reconciled with her mother.

  Opening them felt disloyal. And a part of her was scared—scared that she’d come to like Frances. And she didn’t want to like someone who’d done somethi
ng awful to her mother. She wanted to find out what had happened between the two women first. She’d relegated reading those letters to being her last course of action.

  ‘You said you wanted to video yourself talking to the camera and explaining how you’ve traced your family tree from the few seeds you’ve been thrown?’ Owen said.

  Glad for the distraction, she nodded.

  ‘Then how’s this for a plan? I could rearrange my work schedule, and one day next week we could head up to Ellerslie. The house is currently vacant, but there’s a caretaker couple who’ve worked there for years. We could have a rummage around and maybe film on location there. We’ll probably have to stay overnight at a nearby inn, but that shouldn’t be a problem.’

  Her whole body became electrified at the thought—visit the family estate?

  ‘Have you ever been there?’ she asked. ‘It looks stunning. The photographs are amazing...’

  ‘I had no idea Frances even owned an estate until after her death.’

  ‘It’d be wonderful to do some filming there—it would add a real wow factor. Are you sure we’re allowed?’

  ‘I’m the executor of Frances’s will. If your mother refuses her inheritance I’m going to have to oversee the sale of the property. At some point I’m going to have to inspect it to see if any work needs to be done.’

  ‘What about your boss? Won’t he mind? Can you just take off like that?’

  He glanced up into the blue of the sky and she figured he was mentally tallying up his work schedule.

  ‘I can swing it,’ he said finally.

  To have that kind of leeway and freedom at work had to mean that he was seriously good at his job—that his employer was willing to give him the world in order to keep him. That was what she wanted—to be so good at something, so competent, that her job would never be in jeopardy again.

  ‘And you’re sure it’d be okay for me to tag along?’

  How would her mother feel about Callie visiting Ellerslie?

  Owen leaned forward to clasp her hands, as if sensing the tug of war going on inside her. ‘As your mother’s deputy, I’d have thought you have an obligation to see the house.’

  ‘But my mother hasn’t made me her deputy,’ honesty forced her to point out.

  He hesitated. ‘You’ve kept those letters that Donna returned because you think she needs to read them. In that same spirit you have to see the estate so you can give her... I don’t know...a report on it. At least take some photos to send her.’

  That made sense. ‘You want her to accept her inheritance, don’t you?’

  He hesitated, and then nodded. Then, ‘Can I ask you something? Why consider rejecting your inheritance when Frances has put no conditions on it? I don’t understand your reasoning. Why not just accept it and treasure it as the gift it is?’

  Callie knew he saw it as his honour-bound duty to ensure Frances’s wishes were fulfilled. And in the service of that he’d put pressure on Callie to accept her inheritance. His loyalty belonged to Frances, not her.

  She pulled in a breath. ‘If something really bad happened between Frances and my mother—and I think it’s pretty clear something did—if Frances treated my mother cruelly... Then to accept my inheritance would be...’ she searched her mind for the right words ‘...tacit approval for whatever it was she did. Accepting her money would be like taking a bribe to turn a blind eye to the past.’

  If Frances had treated Donna reprehensibly, then she’d show solidarity with her mother. She’d turn her back completely on Frances and her world of wealth and privilege.

  ‘I think both you and your mother have misjudged Frances.’

  And after hearing about Frances today... ‘A part of me hopes you’re right,’ she said.

  Frances’s story had struck a chord with her—maybe because of her own ill-fated love affair—and she felt as if she had a lot in common with the other woman. Just as Frances had thought with Richard, Callie had believed she’d have everything she’d ever wanted—family, children, financial stability, love—with Dominic. Both she and Frances had been cruelly disillusioned.

  ‘It may all turn out to be nothing more than a big misunderstanding,’ said Callie. And if that were the case then she might be able to make things right.

  ‘Callie, you have a right to visit the estate. It’s your family history too.’

  She lifted her chin. It was.

  For the time being she’d concentrate on the simplest of her current concerns—the TV job. She had every intention of applying for it, regardless of whatever else happened, and video footage of the estate would add serious drama to her little documentary.

  She rubbed her hands together. ‘That job is so mine. My documentary is going to knock the interview panel’s socks off.’

  He grinned back. ‘Look, I know you’re all over this video of yours, but don’t forget I’m a tech nerd, with some serious hardware back at my apartment.’

  Her heart gave a giant kick. ‘You’d help me turn my little home video into something seriously slick?’

  He raised his hands skyward. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

  ‘Oh, Owen, thank you!’

  Their gazes caught and held in a moment that, for Callie at least, was pure exhilaration. She found herself falling into the warm smoky depths of Owen’s eyes.

  Very slowly those delectable smiling lips of his sobered at whatever he saw reflected in her face. His gaze lowered to her lips and a tic started up inside her when the smoke darkened to midnight and she recognised his raw hunger.

  He wanted her! Owen wanted her every bit as much as she wanted him.

  The knowledge lifted her up as if on the crest of a wave—and exhilaration, delight, and the most delicious anticipation thrilled through her, because she knew he was about to kiss her. And she had every intention of meeting that kiss with an enthusiasm that left him in no doubt as to how much she wanted him.

  She swayed towards him as his head lowered towards hers. One of her hands landed on his shoulder, the other rested against his chest. His body was absurdly firm, and so throbbing with life that her fingers automatically curled and then flattened in an effort to feel more of him.

  And then his lips were on hers and their warmth took her off guard—warmth as in heat, but warmth as in feeling too. He kissed her as if he couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather be doing, and she couldn’t resist the allure of being so wholly and wholeheartedly relished.

  She kissed him back with the same undiluted appreciation and a groan rasped from the back of his throat. That was the moment she lost all sense of herself. Her hands tunnelled through his hair to pull him closer and his hands went around her back, one coming up to cradle her head and hold her still so he could kiss her with a sweeping thoroughness that left her lost to everything except the moment and the rightness of being with him.

  She had no idea how long they kissed, but they eventually broke apart to drag air into sawing lungs.

  She hung there, suspended between heartbeats...

  A shrill and sudden noise intruded on the spring quiet, making her start and Owen freeze. It took her a moment to realise it was her phone, and by the time she’d grabbed it from her handbag Owen had marched across to the pond, his back ramrod-straight.

  She stood and pressed the phone to her ear. ‘Hello?’

  She listened as the voice of the man at the other end explained who he was. She made all the appropriate responses, hoping she didn’t sound as shell-shocked and topsy-turvy as she felt, an ocean of need still stampeding through her.

  Owen turned to her when she rang off. She didn’t know what to make of that kiss, or Owen’s reaction now. Was he regretting the interruption? Or was he grateful for it? If it was the latter, she didn’t want to be anywhere near him. Not until she had her game face well and truly back into place.

  ‘Callie, th
at kiss...’

  He bent at the waist and braced his hands against his knees. Her heart plummeted, but she refused to let her chin drop.

  ‘Was amazing,’ she finished for him.

  His gaze speared back to hers and she recognised the wariness in his eyes...and the regret. Acid coated her tongue. But a moment later she shook herself. Of course he regretted it. She regretted it too. What on earth had she been thinking? She hadn’t been thinking!

  She swallowed and forced herself to continue. ‘But I’m not in the market for anything like that at the moment. I don’t want a short-term fling, and anything long-term is just—’ she dragged a hand through her hair ‘—unthinkable. I—’

  He straightened. ‘You don’t need to explain, Callie.’

  She didn’t?

  ‘I feel the same. Fiona and I broke up eight months ago, but it still feels too soon to start something new.’

  Her heart gave a strange little twist. ‘That makes perfect sense. You were going to marry her. That takes some...’ Gah, why hadn’t she simply stopped at That makes perfect sense? ‘Some time to readjust,’ she finished lamely.

  He stared at her. ‘So...we’re good?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ She waved at the bench. ‘That was just a blip. One of those “less said, soonest mended” things.’

  ‘Agreed.’ His relief was palpable. ‘Then we’ll just consider it forgotten.’

  She had a feeling it wasn’t going to be that easy. At least not for her.

  Pushing the thought aside, she held up her phone. ‘That was Mr Singh. A gentleman who claims he’s Barney’s owner.’

  ‘Barney’s owner?’

  ‘He’s in hospital. I said we’d go and visit him.’

  He blinked.

  ‘I mean,’ she amended hastily, ‘I’ll go and visit him, you don’t have to come.’

  ‘Of course I’m coming. I’ve been sharing custody, remember?’

  ‘We should really drop by the apartment to make sure Barney’s okay. Maybe take him out for a bit.’

  They’d left him in Owen’s apartment.

  ‘You walked him this morning. He’ll be fine for another couple of hours.’