The Heiress’s 2-Week Affair

by Marie Ferrarella

  That smile she’d always loved curved one half of his mouth. Unsettling her stomach. “Welcome to my world.”

  She shook her head. Ignoring him and the effect he had on her was getting to be impossible. But she was determined to go down fighting. “I’ll pass, thanks,” she said.

  Several minutes passed. Despite the low level din around them, silence sat like an awkward, uninvited guest at their table, making them both feel uncomfortable.

  It had never been like this, Matt thought. Not even from the very start. He took a stab at stereotypical conversation. “So what have you been doing with yourself, besides becoming a police detective?”

  “That’s about it,” she said, her tone sealing the doorway that led into her life. “You? Where did life take you after you made your escape?”

  “I didn’t escape, Natalie,” he pointed out patiently. “I did it for your own good.”

  Second verse, same as the first, she thought. “You broke my heart for my own good,” she mocked. “How do you figure that?”

  There was no point in rehashing this. He couldn’t go into specifics. “I don’t want to get into it now.”

  “Of course not. Because you’re making it up as you go along, and you’re at a loss where to go next with this. News flash, I’m not buying. Any of it.” Suddenly making up her mind, she stood up. “You know what? I’m not hungry.”

  He glanced to the side and saw the waitress approaching with their meals. “Why don’t you stay a while?” he coaxed. “The waitress is coming with the food.”

  “You eat it. Or don’t. Take it home in a doggie bag, or leave it here. I really don’t care,” she informed him. And with that, she stormed away.

  All she wanted was to get out of the restaurant and the casino. And most of all, she wanted to get away from him.

  Chapter 8

  Natalie got as far as the other side of the Rainbow Room’s entrance.

  That was where Matt, after tossing down several bills on their table to cover the meal they weren’t having, managed to catch up to her. Taking hold of her shoulders, he swung Natalie around to face him. Agitated, trying to deal with a host of jumbled emotions, he hadn’t the faintest idea what he was going to say to her.

  As it turned out, he didn’t say anything.

  Instead, he acted. Before he knew it, his instincts had taken over and completely overruled even a glimmer of common sense.

  Matt brought his mouth down on hers before he could think better of it or try to stop himself.

  He didn’t want to stop himself.

  Natalie struggled to pull back for less than half a heartbeat. That’s all the time it took for her longing and the hunger that was eating away at her to kick in. It surged through her veins like a runaway wildfire.

  A bittersweet feeling of homecoming washed over her. Her mind, all but spinning out of control, just utterly shut down.

  She was instantly propelled eight years into the past as a tidal wave of euphoria materialized out of nowhere, sweeping over her. Robbing her of her senses as she clung to him.

  God she’d missed him. Missed the feeling that only he could create inside her.

  Not that she let anyone else even try. She hadn’t taken any relationship on a test drive since theirs had ended. Hadn’t even allowed herself to become involved in one. It was far too much trouble. She’d become all work, no play. Relationships brought the specter of heartache with them, and her quota had been filled up for a lifetime.

  Besides, Candace went out with enough men for both of them. There was no need for her to participate in this madness. So, for the last eight years, she’d been a virtual nun.

  She wasn’t acting like a nun now.

  Deep down in her bones, Natalie knew she shouldn’t be doing this, knew that this momentary aberration had just made her life a hundred percent harder. The amount of backpedaling that was going to be required to balance this out was going to be enormous.

  But for this tiny island of time, it didn’t matter to her.

  All that mattered was riding this lightning bolt until it disintegrated beneath her feet.

  Her arms tightened around his neck as her body sealed itself to his.

  How had he managed to survive without this? Without her in his life? How had he managed to wake up each morning without finding her in his bed? Right at this moment, he hadn’t a clue.

  All his noble reasons for walking away from her turned to confetti and blew away in the wind like so many tiny squares of colored paper.

  The feel of her body against his lit a fire in his veins. If they weren’t out in the open like this, in a public place undoubtedly garnering attention, he would have swept Natalie up in his arms and taken her to his bed—or to any handy flat surface in a pinch. And succumbing to a moment of weakness, undo everything that had cost him so much to do in the first place. Leaving her hadn’t even been the hardest part. Staying away was.

  He still loved her.

  If he’d harbored any doubts about that, they were gone now. Moreover, he was still in love with her, which was a completely different thing, and even he could understand the basic distinction now.

  Lost in a fog, Matt was thinking more clearly than he had these last agonizing eight years. Passion filled him as he deepened the kiss.

  Struggling to find the strength that she’d always prided herself on possessing, Natalie finally managed to wedge her hands against his chest and push Matt back.

  “I had no idea you’d be that grateful for a doggie bag,” she quipped hoarsely. Clearing her throat, she searched for her bearings as well as her voice. “I have to get going.”

  “Natalie—” he began, not really certain what it was that he wanted to say, only that he didn’t want her to leave. Not yet. Not after he’d discovered that the passion between them was just as red-hot as ever. Maybe even more so.

  She looked into his eyes and could see what he was thinking. Maybe because the same thoughts had raced across her mind.

  “This doesn’t change anything,” she told him. “You still left me. Still hurt me. One kiss, no matter how hot, isn’t going to erase that or mend any of the fences that you broke in your hurry to leave.”

  Reluctantly, Matt withdrew his hands from her waist. “I know.”

  But you could try, damn it. You could pretend to go through the motions. Tell me you were stupid and wrong. I’ll listen.

  Disappointment filled all the crevices that passion had just occupied. Matt had given up much too easily. Pulling herself together, Natalie glanced at her watch. She really did have to go. Her father had said something about wanting her present at the emergency family meeting he was calling. He’d mentioned four o’clock. Even if she drove with her siren on, she was going to be late.

  But then, probably so were the others. No one in the Rothchild family was known for punctuality. She was the one who came the closest. Her stepsister, Silver, didn’t even own a watch. But then, Silver was a rock star who moved to her own inner timepiece.

  “I’ve got to go,” she repeated, doing her best to sound cool and removed, even though her body temperature was still bordering on feverish, thanks to him. “Call me if you find out anything new that has to do with Candace,” she instructed.

  “Can I call you if I don’t?” He hadn’t meant to say that, but then, he hadn’t meant to kiss her, either. An afternoon in her presence and all his control seemed to splinter into useless pieces.

  “No.”

  The single word hung in the air as she turned on her heel and quickly walked away. Before she broke down and sealed her mouth to his again. He was an addiction. She’d only fooled herself into thinking she’d kicked it. It owned her.

  To her surprise, half a beat later, Matt fell into place beside her. Annoyed, Natalie stopped walking. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “With you,” he replied simply. “You said you wanted me to work with you, remember?”

  “I was referring to here, at The Janus.” God knew she kne
w better than to have him around for any length of time beyond that. If she’d thought otherwise, her reaction to his kiss showed her just how weak she was when it came to him.

  Matt shrugged in response to her answer. “Two heads are better than one.”

  A sarcastic remark hovered on her tongue, but never made it to her lips. In this case, the direct approach was better. “Not this time. I’m due at the house. My father is calling an emergency family meeting. Last I looked, you weren’t family.” And whose fault is that? she added silently.

  “No,” he agreed, “but maybe you could use the moral support.”

  She took it as a direct slam about her inner strength. Her eyes narrowed as she informed him, “I can handle my father.”

  His tone was nonconfrontational. He wasn’t trying to get into a fight; he just wanted to help. When they’d been together, she was the one who’d wanted the kind of family that could only be found in human interest stories and carefully crafted feel-good movies.

  “Never said you couldn’t. But I hear that your new stepmother is a piece of work.”

  It was more than true but would have required some interaction on his part to learn for himself. “How long did you say you were back?”

  “A couple of weeks.” He guessed the reason behind her question. “Word gets around fast,” Matt told her. Especially when you ask questions, he added silently.

  “Thanks, but showing up with you would be like waving a red flag in my father’s face. He doesn’t really like you,” she told him honestly.

  Matt laughed shortly. “Yeah, I know. He made that pretty clear.”

  Her curiosity was instantly aroused. Just how full had those two weeks of his been? Had he come around the mansion without her knowing it?

  “When?”

  It was ancient history. Matt saw no reason to keep it secret any longer. “When he tried to buy me off.”

  That didn’t make any sense. How could her father try to buy him off—and why would he?—if he had a cash flow problem? “I thought that your family supposedly lent my father money so he could get out of the financial hole he was in.”

  “That’s now. I’m talking about before.”

  Natalie still wasn’t following him. “How much before?”

  He waved her question away. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to me,” she insisted. Her eyes pinned him in place. He wasn’t going anywhere and neither was she until he answered her question. “When did my father offer you money?”

  “Before.” The expression on her face indicated that the single word did nothing to satisfy her curiosity, so he gave her more. “Eight years ago.”

  She felt her heart twist. She’d been better off not knowing. “That’s why you left? Because he paid you off?” she asked incredulously. “Why you son of a bit—” Stunned, speechless, she raised her hand, ready to slap him across the face at the insult.

  Matt caught her wrist, blocking contact. He knew that for simplicity’s sake, he should hold his peace and let her believe the worst about him. But something wouldn’t let him. He didn’t want her believing that he had been bought off.

  She could think he was a rotten human being, not worth her time and certainly not her love, but he didn’t want her believing that she’d been cast aside for thirty pieces of silver.

  “He tried to buy me off,” he corrected. “Offered me a bit of money, actually. Back then, your father thought you were worth a quarter of a million dollars. Or maybe that was what getting rid of me was worth to him, I don’t know. But I didn’t take it,” he told her, emphasizing each word.

  Confusion washed over her. “If you didn’t leave because of the money—” A wave of jealousy struck. “Was there someone else?”

  His eyes met hers. “You know better than that, Natalie.”

  “No, I don’t.” She sighed, weary of this uncertain feeling she’d been carrying around with her. It wouldn’t matter if she didn’t feel anything for him, but she did. She wanted answers. “I don’t know better than that. Why did you leave me?”

  There was nothing to be gained by this. “It’s in the past, Natalie. Let it go.”

  If only she could. She’d tried hard enough, Lord knows, but she’d never gotten to that point. “I can’t.”

  “Yes you can,” he assured her firmly. This was an argument that was not about to be resolved. Not now, not ever. “If you don’t want me coming with you, I won’t,” he agreed. “But you’re going to be late if you don’t get going.”

  He was giving her the bum’s rush. Okay for now, she conceded reluctantly. But the gateway to the past had opened, if just a crack. She intended to wedge a crowbar into the tiny space and work it until she managed to open it up all the way.

  But right now, she wasn’t up to waging potentially futile battles, so she turned away without a word and just kept walking. Wishing with all her heart that she had never set eyes on Matt Schaffer. Or that, at the very least, he was still back in Los Angeles.

  She didn’t need this type of anguish on top of Candace’s murder.

  Candace.

  She was her top priority. All that mattered was finding out who killed her sister. Finding it out and bringing the bastard down. Whatever that took.

  The wide, winding driveway before the mansion that she had once called home was packed with various expensive automobiles. Hers looked like a poor relation. Poor, but energy conscious, she thought wryly.

  Recognizing the other vehicles, she realized that she was probably the last to arrive. Couldn’t be helped, Natalie thought.

  Couldn’t it? a small, inner voice mocked. You didn’t need to kiss him back. Didn’t need to stand there, talking to him, hanging on his every word the way you used to.

  Wow, now she was getting into an argument with herself. She was really losing it, Natalie thought.

  Might as well go in and get this over with, she told herself.

  When she rang the doorbell, Clive opened the door almost immediately. His expression appeared to be rigid until he saw it was her. And then he smiled, as if to say, “Ah, the normal one.”

  Natalie was about to ask the butler if he had stationed himself at the front door to get as far away from her family as possible when she was interrupted by a crash that sounded as if it was coming from the living room.

  She raised her eyes quizzically up to Clive’s face.

  “That would be Master Ricky,” he informed her, answering her unspoken question.

  She frowned. Her half brother was a whirling dervish in search of an accident. A walking example of Attention Deficit Disorder, he constantly left chaos in his wake. Her father was at a loss how to handle him and his mother, Rebecca Lynn, refused to, believing the boy was better off if he was allowed to “express” himself.

  This did not have the makings of a good outcome. “Dad called a family meeting, but I thought he meant adults only.”

  “Sadly, no,” Clive told her. “Miss Rebecca Lynn wants Master Ricky present. She said something about Miss Candace being an object lesson for him.”

  On how not to live your life, apparently, Natalie thought. She couldn’t help taking umbrage for Candace even though she felt that no one should attempt to emulate her late twin’s lifestyle. But then everything connected with her stepmother seemed to irritate her to no end. The woman was like a rash for which there was no cure.

  And her father seemed apparently blind to all of his wife’s shortcomings.

  Reluctant to walk into the lion’s den, Natalie stalled for a moment. “How’s the meeting coming along?” she asked the butler.

  A whimsical half smile fleetingly played along the older man’s lips. “No one has killed anyone yet.”

  “Always a good sign,” Natalie agreed.

  She unconsciously squared her shoulders, the way she always did when she was about to face Stepmother 2.0—which was the way she’d taken to referring to Rebecca Lynn. The thinly veiled animosity between the woman and t
he rest of the family had never really died down.

  Too bad her father’d had that midlife crisis of his. Instead of buying a new sports car—he already had more than ten housed within his cavernous garage—he’d shed his second wife and married a woman young enough to be his daughter.

  As far as she was concerned, Natalie had always preferred her father’s last wife. Anne Worth Rothchild not only had pedigree but she had class. She was a lady in every sense of the word. In contrast, Rebecca Lynn was a grasping gold digger in every sense of that word.

  Try as she might, she just couldn’t get herself to like Rebecca Lynn, or her spoiled brat of a half brother. The only male heir in the family, Ricky, even at this tender age, radiated an aura of entitlement. Something, Natalie had no doubt, that had been taught to him by his mother. As someone who preferred to earn her own way, she found it absolutely repugnant.

  Rebecca Lynn, Natalie was certain, was angling to be become the sole heir of the Rothchild fortune—once Harold Rothchild passed on.

  Over her dead body, Natalie vowed. Not that she wanted any of the money. She just didn’t want Rebecca Lynn getting her hands on it exclusively.

  Natalie stopped just short of the living room. As a matter of fact, now that she thought about it, Candace’s sudden death dovetailed nicely with their stepmother’s plans. She’d bet her last dime that Rebecca Lynn would have liked nothing better than to have Candace’s fate befall her and her two remaining siblings—her sister Jenna and stepsister Silver.

  Can’t tell the players apart without a scorecard, Natalie thought dryly.

  Forcing herself to walk into the living room, Natalie saw her youngest sibling, Jenna, a self-assured twenty-five-year-old, currently heading up her own party planning business, crouching on the floor. She was busy picking up the pieces of what had been, until moments ago, a colorful vase from a trip to Hawaii.