by Judy Teel
by
Judy Teel
This book is dedicated to my family and friends. I feel very blessed to have you in my life.
Published by Golden Angel Press
Copyright © July 2011 by Judy P. Mills
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author, Judy P. Mills
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual business establishments, inventions, items, locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
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Cover design by Streetlight Graphics
Cinderella Heiresses Series:
Seducing an Heiress
Instructing an Heiress
CHAPTER ONE
She was going to have to escape and she was going to have to do it tonight. How, she had no idea, but she had to get away, disappear, start over somewhere. Anywhere.
Across his massive desk, her father's icy gray eyes drilled into her, his square face and body as uncompromising as a block of granite. "You'll continue to promote the Dakota Nights line and act as customer liaison until I say otherwise."
"No." She sucked in her breath, anger quivering through every cell of her being. "Since Jack gave you the tape and you made it public, your idea of what a customer liaison is and mine have become very different."
Music drifted up from the party in the ballroom below them. The beautiful harmonies grated along Dakota's nerves, reminding her of the way his guests had looked at her. Of how her father had humiliated her.
While her emotions were in turmoil, his seemed to be as unaffected as ever. He'd never really cared about her or her mother. Like all people in his life, they were just a means to an end. If she'd ever doubted that, or wished it weren't true, she never would again. Not after this.
He watched her impassively. "Grow up, Dakota. The film was blurred before release. Your delicate sensibilities remain intact."
"I'm not embarrassed about what I did. I just don't think the whole world should be watching it. Or expecting me to do it with them."
Carl Jamison folded his hands on his desk, the picture of a man who knows he's in control and always will be. "Upping the game doubled my return on the line. Stocks are up. Buyers are interested. It's nothing but good business."
Her stomach knotted with the effort to stay calm. She still found it beyond incredible that the sex tape Jack had made without her knowledge was nothing but 'good business' to her own father.
The diamonds around her neck and wrist felt like shackles and had for a long time--as cold and hard as her father and everything in her life. He'd never seen her as a daughter, or even a person, only a brainless tool to be used in his unquenchable pursuit of wealth and power.
He always had underestimated her.
Her mind sharpened around the realization. Her father's assumptions were her key to freedom. Why hadn't she seen it before? He'd never guess she was about to escape him if he thought her nothing but a spoiled little girl having a fit of temper.
Tonight she would leave his world behind; a world where deceit and manipulation were admired and caring seen as a weakness. She would play on his narrow beliefs about her and walk out without a backward glance.
Dakota stuck out her bottom lip and pushed to her feet. Her father's expression darkened, but she met his hard gaze with a haughty stare of her own.
"Goodbye, Dad. I don't want to be associated with you or Jamison Enterprises anymore." She raised her chin defiantly.
A sneer lifted the corner of his mouth. "You can't afford to walk out on me. How will you support yourself? With your little cooking hobby?"
"I'll manage. I can do things." She added a quiver to her voice for good measure.
Her father got slowly to his feet and planted his fists on the antique desk. Then his square, craggy face softened marginally, a purposeful shift she'd seen many times. "Come back to the party with me, Dakota. I'll forget your little tantrum ever happened."
"Please do." She kicked the train of her Marchesa original out of the way and headed for the door.
"If you go, you'll regret it," he called after her, his tone still laced with fake tolerance.
"Don't try to find me," she said tossing her hair over her shoulder. "I'll be too busy doing exactly what I want to do."
Her heart beat like a jack hammer in her chest. Was she going to get away with it? Was she actually going to be able to walk out, security cameras, sophisticated spying network and all? Nothing happening here but a spoiled rich girl tantrum, she repeated mentally. Play it up, Dakota.
She opened her father's office door, flounced into the hall, and collided with a man's rock hard chest.
Strong hands clasped her bare shoulders to steady her and she looked up into the chiseled features of Trey Peters. Startled, she zeroed in on his beautiful mouth. Awareness flared along her skin, mixing with her anger and fear to spread a tingling heat across her chest and down into her belly.
She'd seen him only a handful of times since his promotion to senior manager of customer relations and he always sent her senses into overdrive--hers and no doubt every female alive. It's what her father valued about him. What made him the perfect male counterpart to her. When office scuttlebutt had periodically reached her, he was always referred to as The Magician.
An idea sprang to life in her mind. He could be the icing on her acting cake.
His forest green eyes filled with genuine concern as he looked down at Dakota. "Are you all right, Miss Jamison?"
She almost felt sorry for him. He'd be in trouble for what she was about to do, but she couldn't give up the opportunity to throw Dad off her scent.
Tossing a belligerent look back at her father, she took Trey's face in her hands, and pressed her mouth to his.
His lips were firm and warm and he went utterly still as she moved her mouth across them. Awareness shimmered between them like heat waves in the summer and his mouth turned pliant.
He swept his hands down her bare back to the edge of the gown at her waist and pulled her snugly against his body. His tongue stroked along the inside of her bottom lip.
Going up on her toes, Dakota snaked her arms around his neck and pressed against him. Heat melted her bones, tempting her into sighing with pleasure.
"Peters!" her father shouted from inside his office.
Trey tensed.
Breaking the kiss, Dakota reluctantly pulled away from him. She hadn't expected to like it. Not really.
His hooded gaze swept over her face, then flickered to a point beyond her shoulder before coming back to her. "Tempting," he murmured. "But impossible."
"I know." Dakota couldn't help the triumphant smile that touched her mouth as she moved around him and toward the stairs. "Because none of you will ever see me again."
CHAPTER TWO
Dakota finished pouring the leftover soup into the outside bowl she kept for Hamlet. As the stray dog lapped up the treat, she petted him, pleased to see how much better he looked.
She thought over the last eight months since she'd escaped from her father's Long Island compound. The few acquaintances she'd had before would think she was crazy, but she loved her tiny apartment and her old VW bug. She didn't even mind that she could barely make ends meet on what her fledgling business brought in.
/> Why? Because she was free. Safe. Something those same unpleasant acquaintances could never understand. She had friends who truly cared about her, now. She was in charge of her own fate; her own success or failure. She was blissfully happy and nothing could spoil that.
Behind her, the silver bell over the back door of her small restaurant jingled merrily and a thrill went through her.
"Sorry, Hamlet," she said, smiling at the spotted sprizzly mix. "Customers come first."
Customers. Pride misted through her chest as she strode past the stretch of counters and ovens toward the small seating area at the front of her tiny bistro. Through the beads covering the arched entrance between the two rooms, she looked out to see who'd come in.
Oh, my God. Trey Peters.
Fear punched into her stomach. How? How could he possibly be here?
Her breath quickened and she darted behind the edge of the doorway. If Trey recognized her it was the end of everything. People wouldn't come to her restaurant because of what she'd accomplished with her own hands and her own skill. They would only come to stare and point and judge.
The notorious heiress of the internet. The sex queen herself.
Any chance of winning the prestigious Aspiring Entrepreneur National Contest award would be shot. And without the AENC prize money, she couldn't afford to expand her place. Without expanding, she wouldn't be able to support herself for much longer.
This was a disaster.
She pressed her back against the wall and pulled in a shaky breath. Maybe it was coincidence. He'd just happened to be passing through Harts Creek. He'd popped in on a whim, would quickly decide her little place wasn't sophisticated enough for him, and he'd leave.
The other bell over the front door chimed and hope flickered through her. Maybe he just had.
"Dakota?" her friend, Chelsea, called from the front. "You back there?"
Her momentary optimism popped like an overfilled balloon. He was still here.
Maybe he wouldn't recognize her. Or if he did, maybe he wouldn't care.
"Dakota," Chelsea called in a stage whisper. "I can hear you breathing. Hungry customer here."
Pasting a smile on her face, she reluctantly stepped through the beaded curtain.
"There you are." Chelsea leaned over the counter, a giant grin on her all-American girl face. "Check out the new scenery," she said in a low voice, gesturing behind her with a shrug of her curly blonde head. "Hot, hot, hot and dressed to kill. Word about this place must be spreading into Cincinnati."
"That would be great," Dakota agreed, feeling a little weak. She looked over Chelsea's shoulder at Trey. He'd taken the table by the window away from the other customers and seemed to be carefully studying the flyer that served as the Hearth and Home's daily menu.
His black hair still had the tousled perfection that only a three-hundred dollar haircut could give. His shirt was Brooks Brothers, his trousers and shoes Armani. He looked strikingly out of place and every inch the Jamison Enterprises executive. She wondered if he still was.
Tension crept across her shoulders.
Chelsea pulled money out of her pants' pocket. "Lori said whatever special you're running is fine. Make it two. To go."
Dakota tore her attention away from Trey. "Um, lentil soup and French bread okay?"
"Perfect. I love your lentil soup."
While her friend counted out her money, Dakota went back into the kitchen to fill a couple of to-go containers from the large pot on the stove. She grabbed two thick slices of crusty bread from trays on the rack and returned to the front counter.
She looked up and nearly dropped the soup.
Trey had turned to the side and leaned back against the frame of the picture window. His eyes watched her with keen interest.
Dakota's mouth went dry. She'd hidden her tracks thoroughly, she knew she had. She'd taken every precaution to hide her identity. She'd even changed her name and her looks.
If he weren't here by coincidence, then he'd put a lot of effort into finding her. A very bad sign.
There was no reason for him to do that. She swallowed a gasp.
Unless her father had set him on her trail.
"Dakota?" Chelsea's voice broke through her tangled thoughts. "You want my money or not?"
"Sorry."
Chelsea's bright blue eyes sparkled. "Thinking about a new recipe? Or the cutie by the window?
"Just working through something in my head."
"I bet. He inspires things in my head, too. And other places." She grabbed her bag of food and winked. "See you later. Let me know how it turns out."
Normally Chelsea's cheerful, slightly naughty personality made her smile. This time all it did was fill her with dread and remind her of everything she had to lose if Trey were here for something more than lunch.
She'd worked too hard to achieve her independence away from the long shadow of her father and her past. For the first time in her life she had friends who liked her for herself--not for her money or her father's power. She belonged here. She was happy.
She wouldn't let that be destroyed.
Her apprehension hardened into determination. If Dad thought he could send his pretty bloodhound to drag her back into the fold, he really didn't know her at all.
She'd never go back to that world, again.
* * *
Trey watched Dakota Jamison bearing down on him like an avenging goddess in flour splattered jeans and a baggy T-shirt and carrying a coffee pot.
He felt like he'd landed in the Twilight Zone.
The Jamison heiress serving coffee wasn't the only thing that had changed since he'd last seen her. She'd added thick-rimmed glasses and cut her waist-length black hair to just below her ears and dyed it red. It was a decent disguise. Most people would never associate this woman with the exotic heiress who'd been taped having sex in a dorm room with her lover.
Dakota came up to the table, her dark brown eyes full of mistrust behind the ugly glasses. His body buzzed with awareness as her cinnamon scent drifted around him.
The memory of her kiss speared through him. Warmth spread down his body as his groin tightened.
He pushed the natural reaction away.
He had a job to do and not a lot of time to do it. If Jamison hadn't sat on his ass for two months expecting her to crawl back to him, things would be a little easier. As it was, just tracking her down had taken most of the six months he'd been allotted. Approaching this assignment delicately was not an option anymore. Not if he was going to get what he wanted from Jamison.
She set a white mug in front of him. "Coffee?" she asked, as if she didn't have a clue who he was. Or was she hoping he was the one without a clue?
He gave her a polite smile, deciding to play along. For now. "Thanks."
She filled his cup while surreptitiously giving him the once over.
"What else can I get for you?"
"Beef barley, honey wheat, and a cinnamon roll."
She pulled out the pencil she'd tucked above her ear and scribbled on her order pad. "I haven't seen you in here before. New in town?"
Trey poured sugar into his coffee. "Just arrived last night."
"Business or pleasure?" she asked, glancing up.
"Strictly business."
She frowned. "Most people don't find much of that in Harts Creek."
"That works out, then." He stirred his coffee, leisurely. "Like you, I'm not most people."
She sucked in her breath and a light sheen of sweat broke out above her sexy mouth. "Ten percent off your order if you get it to go," she whispered.
"Tempting." Trey slid the hand written menu back behind the napkin holder. "But impossible."
Her eyes widened in alarm. She turned away and hurried off, her shapeless clothes unable to completely hide the graceful movement of her body, or her tight, generous curves. Nice to know some things hadn't changed.
Trey leaned back against the window again, satisfied that he'd gotten her attention. Dakota unders
tood that he'd recognized her, but she didn't know what he planned to do about it.
She'd have to talk to him, now. Find out how he wanted to play this.
Taking a deep breath, Trey tried to relax. Thank God this was the last one. The last time he'd have to leave himself behind and play a part in order to talk someone into doing something he, or she, didn't want to do.
Once this was over and Trey had the papers he needed to find his sister, he was done. What was left of his family would be together again. He could put his energy into starting over. Do things differently.
With renewed determination, Trey turned his mind back to the job at hand. His first task was to figure out what motivated Dakota. His second was to give it to her.
His third was to make sure she didn't get it for free.
* * *
Frustration boiled through Dakota as she watched Trey pick up his bill and saunter toward to the cash register. What was he after? Was he hoping to get money out of her?
Dakota almost smiled at that. She might have twenty bucks in her pocket he could extort, but other than that, good luck to him.
She wasn't the Jamison heiress anymore. When she'd walked out that night, she hadn't taken anything with her except what she'd been wearing, not even her mother's jewelry box.
Luckily, the diamonds she'd had on had given her enough money to start her business and live modestly for close to eighteen months. Nearly half that time was gone now, and if she didn't expand her restaurant soon, she'd be sunk.
Trey stopped in front of the register and gave her a tilted, charming smile. His scent, like soap and sun warmed air, caressed the space around her. A wisp of awareness slid down her back.
Her eyes widened. No way. That did not just happen. Those kinds of feelings for him were a fluke; inspired by a kiss that had more to do with her need to get away than with any attraction between her and Trey. Focus Dakota. What was important now was getting rid of him.
Maybe she could convince him he was mistaken and she wasn't the Jamison heiress. He hadn't actually called her by name. There might be a chance he didn't know who she was.
