The American Heir: A Jet City Billionaire Romance (The Billionaire Duke Series Book 4)

by Gina Robinson

  Riggins sighed. "I guess this means I'm going to have to do my husbandly duty and check out the things that go bump in the night." His tone was wry.

  His turned toward the door.

  I grabbed his arm. "No way! In the dark? At midnight? In the Ghost Tower? Didn't I just say not even the guards go in there? No one goes in there, duke. No one. And certainly not alone!"

  He shrugged. "A ghost is the least of my worries. What's a ghost going to do to me? Walk through me? Take a swing at me and smash my jaw with his airy punch?"

  "Scare you to death." I was serious.

  He shook his head. "I don't scare easily. Someone has to check it out and make sure the tower is secure. We don't want any surprise attacks in the middle of the night."

  "I'm coming with you!" I reached for a sweater that was hanging over the back of a chair nearby.

  He grabbed me by both arms and looked me in the eyes. "If you think I'm letting my pregnant wife come with me to examine a strange sighting, you're crazy. If a ghost scares you to death, he'll be killing my potential heir, too. The Dead Duke and the public will never let me hear the end of that. The last thing I need is the Dead Duke tying me to this damn place and then haunting me the rest of my life. You're staying here." His voice was firm.

  My heart was soft. Was he beginning to want the baby, even just a little? "Riggins—"

  "Don't worry. I'll grab a security guy." He gave my arms a squeeze. "Don't go too-stupid-to-live horror movie heroine on me while I'm gone, either, and wander off after me unarmed. Stay put."

  I bit my lip to keep from laughing. "If I wander off, I'll take a candlestick or grab a sword off the wall for protection."

  He stared at me seriously. "No wandering off. Promise?"

  I sighed. "Only if you report back. And take your phone with you. Text me if you run into trouble."

  He rolled his eyes. "Sure. I'll text before I fall over dead of fear-induced heart failure." He grinned, released me, and strode for the door. "Lock your door after me."

  I laughed. "Some precaution! Ghosts can walk through doors."

  "Not the human kind." He pointed to the lock. "Lock it!"

  I saluted and watched him leave, doing as he asked. What was he worried about? I knew what I was worried about—him.

  Chapter 7

  Riggins

  I wasn't a damn ghost hunter. I didn't get a kick out of hanging around in the dark with ghost-hunting equipment like my friend Lazer did. But I hauled ass out of Haley's room mostly to escape temptation and my own traitorous feelings. She was too damned vulnerable and enticing. Too much like a woman I could love for life, and yet I still didn't entirely trust her. I needed to get my head on straight.

  And then there was the matter of the announcement this afternoon and the way we'd left the grounds open. I was more concerned about a vagrant taking up residence in the Ghost Tower than a ghost rattling around.

  The castle had a security central command room in the main keep. I went straight there and talked to the security guard on duty. He routinely monitored the cameras through the night and was replaced in the morning by the dayshift guy. Our cameras covered every square inch of the castle, the immediate castle grounds, the surrounding buildings, including the Ghost Tower, and gardens.

  The guard hadn't seen anyone or anything unusual. But the mention of a ghost piqued his interest. "I've been here over a year, sir, and never seen a ghost, or anything paranormal, in the Ghost Tower. Not even an orb." He looked disappointed. "Some of the other blokes who have been here longer have seen a thing or two that would curl your hair, though, sir. Things moving without explanation and such.

  "The tower is locked up tight all the time. What with it having the dungeon in it and all, it's impenetrable once it's locked. I checked the doors when I came on shift. They were locked tight."

  Which was vaguely reassuring.

  We stored all security footage for twenty-four to forty-eight hours. I asked the guard to review the video. We ran back over the footage from the Ghost Tower for the last few hours. Nothing. Completely clean. No apparitions, otherworldly or human.

  I could have written Haley's sighting off as a symptom of pregnancy or an overactive imagination brought on by exhaustion and the events of the day. But she'd never struck me as the flighty type.

  "I'm going to the tower to check it out." I realized I had no weapon and nothing better than the light on my phone to light my path. And no idea where anyone kept a flashlight around here. I asked the guard for one.

  He gave me a confused look. "You mean a torch, sir?"

  "Yeah, a torch." If I remembered my British correctly.

  He found me a flashlight and, over my protests, called the security guard on duty patrolling the grounds to meet me at the tower. "Procedure, sir."

  I took the keys to the kingdom with me and met the other security guy at the tower. We stared at each other a minute before grinning.

  "I feel like I'm in an episode of Ghost Hunters," I said.

  He laughed, obviously relieved to see I felt the same way. "Don't give them any ideas, sir. They've been wanting to come out and set up their equipment in the tower overnight for years. The old duke wouldn't hear of it."

  "The late duke didn't believe in ghosts?"

  "No idea, sir, whether he did or didn't. Didn't like people he didn't know hanging about, that much was certain."

  I considered the Dead Duke almost a demon in his own right. A ghost would have been a perfect companion for him. But he was a practical, logical, diabolical man from everything I could tell. Not the kind prone to believe in spooks.

  "It seems like having a good verified ghost or two would be good for the castle's reputation," I said.

  The security guy considered the idea. "Having a bona fide ghost might have drawn too much attention for the late duke's tastes. Too many people wanting a look around, if you know what I mean. All I know for sure is that the Ghost Tower has been off limits for as long as I've been here. No one allowed in at any time, and the key kept tightly clasped in his grace's cupboard."

  I frowned.

  The guard laughed again. "The old duke was one on his own, sir."

  It took me a second to translate. One of a kind.

  I nodded. "He certainly was."

  The guard didn't know how right he was.

  "I don't believe the duchess would like the idea of a verified ghost much, either. If she keeps seeing unexplained lights, we'll have to call them out just to put her mind at ease."

  "You don't believe in ghosts, sir?" Given my reluctance to enter the tower, he seemed surprised. "If the duchess is afraid of them, we wouldn't want proof of them, would we? In her state, too, we wouldn't want her to have a fright."

  His concern for Haley and the baby was touching. Haley had been busy winning absolutely everyone over.

  "I've never seen sufficient proof ghosts exist." Even if they did, I wasn't worried about them. There were no records of poltergeist at the castle, and they were the most dangerous kind, weren't they? We were certainly no Amityville.

  The first guard had been right. The tower was securely locked. Even with the key, it took some effort to get the door open. I made a note to get a locksmith to come put some graphite in it so it would work better.

  Inside, we flipped on the lights. The tower had been wired for only basic electricity and the bare minimum of light fixtures and electrical outlets. The light bulbs were ancient yellow incandescent bulbs that seemed to struggle to penetrate much of the darkness.

  The tower smelled damp and dusty. Like any hundred-plus-year-old building. It reminded me of the dank, musty smell prevalent in the basements of the Seattle underground. It was eerily quiet. Our footsteps echoed on the stone floors.

  It was easy to imagine the smell of fear in here. A man could go crazy imprisoned in the dark of this place for months on end. His rush from sanity aided by all the ghost stories that I was sure were invented to help his slide into insanity along.

  The g
uard and I checked the first floor. Including the dungeon, which was not lit. We didn't go down into the cells. We used our torches to light them as we did a quick scan of them. It was a miserable place with the chill of evil around it. I shivered and convinced myself the chill was the result of the cold night.

  "Easy enough to see how a prisoner could go insane locked down there, sir."

  I peered into the dungeon along with the guard. "Yes, it is."

  After leaving the dungeon, we climbed the narrow spiral stairs and checked floor by floor. I wasn't sure if it was just me, but I detected the faintest scent of a familiar cologne from my childhood in the staircase. I went cold. "Do you smell something?"

  The guard inhaled deeply. "No, sir." He looked apologetic. "But my allergies have been acting up lately."

  I nodded, unsettled. My mom had always liked the scent of that cologne.

  The guard was no help. Maybe I had imagined it. But it felt like someone had been here very recently. It was hard to tell in the dim light. I made a note to ask Gibson if anyone had been in the tower in the last few days. I was of the same opinion as the guard in the control room. Without a key, this place would be almost impossible to break in to, especially without being noticed or caught on camera.

  After declaring it safe and empty, we locked it back up. The guard went back on patrol. I returned to the castle to report to Haley. But what was I going to tell her? That she'd imagined something? Or had actually seen a ghost?

  I knew her door would be locked. But her room adjoined mine. I belatedly realized I hadn't locked my door in all the excitement. There was brilliance for you. Some protector of the realm I made. I went to her room through mine.

  She wasn't expecting me. I found her standing in front of the mirror with her back to me, her lavender-tipped silvery hair softly spilling over her shoulders. She wore stiletto heels that gave her a good four inches of height. From the back, she looked naked. Except for the telltale jeweled strap of a pair of quarter-million-dollar thong panties that sparkled with diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires of every shade. The best part of all was her shapely butt, round and firm and pale, the most perfect jewel of all.

  Her eyes went round, reflected in the mirror when she saw me. "I was just trying them on. Did you catch a ghost?"

  I shook my head, bewitched by the sight of her. If I'd known a woman could look so beautiful in jeweled lingerie, I would have bought her some for our wedding night. "Nothing. The tower was quiet and empty. The security cameras didn't register any activity, either. Human or paranormal."

  "Don't you need special cameras like Lazer had at Wareswood to catch ghosts in action?" As she turned around, the firelight caught the facets of the jewels on her bra.

  She sparkled like a damn fairy from a dream. She was beautiful and almost more ethereal looking than any ghost I could imagine. The bra, which would have fit her original measurements perfectly, was now slightly tight and shoved her dazzling, jeweled breasts up enticingly.

  It was hard to keep my eyes off that bra and those breasts.

  She smiled at me. "What's the matter? Never seen a woman in jeweled underwear before?"

  "On a runway. Not up close and personal." And not mine.

  Damn, where had that thought come from? How much mine was Haley?

  Haley

  Of course he'd seen women in jeweled underwear before. And not simply in the pages of a magazine. He was Riggins Feldhem, billionaire Duke of Witham. Not some ordinary guy. Before me, he had supermodels falling all over him. Probably still would if not for me. But the flirting was too good and too much fun to stop. And I wouldn't be one-upped. Not with this fabulous jeweled lingerie fueling my confidence, my pregnancy hormones crying for sex, and my heart calling for Riggins.

  "How about a pregnant woman in jeweled underwear?" I leaned back against the dresser and crossed my legs against the building ache, bracing myself with my arms. Pregnancy may have made me tired and nauseated. But it also gave me a desperate need for sex, and the only man I wanted was in front of me now.

  "Not that I know of." His voice was deep and hoarse with desire.

  "There's a first time for everything." I couldn't keep my own want out of my voice.

  "I guess there is." He was still staring as he took a step toward me.

  I held my ground, smiling as he walked toward me, daring him to keep advancing. And he did. Until he was standing inches from me, toe to toe. Eye to eye. Our lips a hairsbreadth apart. So close I could feel his heat and excitement. Smell his cologne. Feel his breath mingle with mine.

  His eyes were dark and dilated. As much as I told myself to breathe, my breaths were shallow. My heartbeat pulsed in my ears. I'd never been this excited. He was coming back to me.

  As I held his gaze, he slid his fingers between my breasts, which spilled over the jewel-trimmed edges of the bra. The bra was totally impractical on so many levels. Including the swirled jeweled embellishments that spread like small wings from the tops of each cup.

  He grinned wickedly as he casually slid a finger between my breast and the weight of the jeweled bra. "This is some fine craftsmanship."

  If I'd been bolder, or thought faster, I would have asked him if he meant the bra. Or me. But I was too addled by his nearness to think clearly. As in awe of him as the first time I'd seen him. Nearly as tongue-tied as the first time he'd come to the bakery. But more desperate now than even then. I felt our relationship hanging on our next moves. If he advanced, if he still wanted me, I had a chance at getting him back and keeping him.

  For my part, I had to offer at least some resistance. I couldn't be too eager. He had to pay some kind of penance for doubting me. Not because I needed it. But he expected it. I wanted him to respect me, for now and ever.

  Before I could respond, he bent his head and kissed the tops of my breasts, cupping them and lifting them to his lips. At first he kissed them slowly so I felt the full heat of his lips. "Very fine workmanship."

  He squeezed them more tightly through their jeweled encasement and pressed up against me more firmly, nudging my closed legs open with his knee. Coaxing me to open up to him. Wedging himself in.

  If he realized how open my heart was to him, he'd have complete power over me. I was his, through and through. Forever.

  With pregnancy, my breasts had become firm, heavy, large, sore. And extremely sensitive in a powerful, sexual way that hadn't been tested yet by his touch. Rubbing against my clothes could get them to bud up and fill me with longing.

  When he pulled one breast free from its jeweled armor, I sighed, filled with a powerful surge of desire. I went wet for him almost instantly.

  I took his head gently in my hands and guided his mouth to my freed nipple, which was dark and erect and ready for him. At the first circle of his tongue over my nipple, I gasped and spread my legs, pulling his crotch into mine and rubbing against him wantonly. He took my nipple in his mouth and grazed it lightly with his teeth. Circled it with his tongue. I fought the rising tide within me. If I had ever doubted a woman could climax simply from having her breasts stimulated, I banished it now.

  I was as hungry and eager as a sex-starved young man, trying to fight off a premature climax in just the same way. I wanted to wait for Riggins and feel him inside me. I needed the intimacy of a union. I need a reunion with him.

  He freed my second breast. Rolled the nipple gently between his fingers, teasing it, murmuring praises and wonder.

  I arched my back, thrusting my breasts out to him, playing with his hair, moaning softly as he brought me to the edge of orgasm as he sucked my breast.

  "Riggins," I whispered, reaching for the hem of his shirt. "Take your shirt off. I want to feel your skin against mine."

  He leaned back just enough to pull it off over his head and toss it away.

  We stared at each other.

  "What are you waiting for?" I studied him, tracing every line of his handsome face. I loved him too much. I wanted him too badly. "Just do it before I come wit
hout you."

  "You're not ready," he whispered back. "You can't be ready yet."

  I guided his hand beneath my thong. "Can't I?"

  "Damn, you're wet and—"

  "As erect as you are?" I reached for his fly, unzipped his pants, and pulled his erection out. He was ready for me, too.

  And neither of us were going to hang on too much longer.

  He gasped as I stroked him hard and positioned his tip around my thong panty at my opening.

  "I've never made love to a woman wearing jeweled lingerie," he whispered as he paused and gazed into my eyes. "And certainly not to a pregnant woman in a fantasy bra and panties."

  I cupped his face. "By a happy coincidence, I've never made love wearing a diamond bra and thong. Take me all the way, duke."

  He grabbed my hips, digging his fingers in to hold me in place, and thrust inside me. I wrapped my legs around him and rocked with him.

  We were wild and incautious, caught up in the act and oblivious to our surroundings. As we rocked into each other, the dresser banged against the wall with the beat of our lovemaking.

  "Miss me?" He grazed my ear with his teeth.

  "Terribly." I pressed against him, holding him to me as the jewels of my lingerie dug into his naked chest.

  "How much?" He ran his tongue around the inside of my ear until I shivered.

  "Horribly. Desperately." I dug my heels into him. "Stop talking and finish the job." I covered his mouth with a kiss.

  He pounded into me again with such force I was afraid the mirror attached to the dresser would shatter as it thumped the wall. I released him from the kiss and closed my eyes. I would have cared more about the mirror and the safety of the antique dresser if I hadn't been senseless with need and filled with only him.

  Another thrust and my scream filled the room. An orgasm rocked through me to my soul. There was only one man for me. I knew with certainty I'd never feel this heat with anyone else.

  I trembled with the force of him, listening to his echoing grunt of completion. I came with enough power to force a surprised scream of pleasure from my lips. I honestly didn't know how he could still be standing. I was limp and weak, held up by the dresser and him.