Guardian to the Heiress

by Margaret Way

  So did that mean a wife or girlfriend should expect it? Carol pondered. Some men thought little of casual sex, but Steve Prescott had installed his then-girlfriend in his luxurious penthouse. Not casual at all. Maybe Steve Prescott would change. Maybe he wouldn’t. She didn’t think she would like to put Gary’s father to the test.

  * * *

  Gary Prescott wasn’t the only one to suggest they meet up for coffee, though a lot of her former friends, sadly, backed off. It was as though in becoming the Chancellor heiress she existed on a different planet. Carol was determined not to change. There was harm in losing track of normal life.

  “So how did you get hold of my phone number, Amber?” Carol asked when she picked up the phone and Amber Coleman identified herself. Her phone wasn’t in the book. It was an unlisted number.

  “Why, Damon, of course,” Amber replied as though Carol was asking a silly question. “He knows he can trust me. You, too, Carol. I’d like to be your friend. I know you’re several years younger, but I’m sure we’ll have lots in common. You could always come to me if you needed advice—perhaps with your clothes, what to wear to what function, that sort of thing. A little bird told me you bought that lovely fuchsia gown you were wearing when Damon rewarded you with a celebratory dinner at Laura G. She has fabulous things.”

  Didn’t people love to gossip? Gossip she could handle. But it upset her greatly to know Damon had given his on-and-off girlfriend her unlisted phone number. To add to it, he must have accounted to Amber for their dinner date as a reward for her scholarship.

  Even gods have feet of clay.

  She had no real knowledge of Damon Hunter. Certainly no intimate knowledge of him. Maybe falling in love made one stupid, blind to the object of one’s desire? Obviously she needed a few more years on her, a few more years of very necessary experience before she took on the love game. Suddenly she was beset by doubts and suspicions. She thought that might now be a given in her new life.

  Amber Coleman had called to make a coffee date. From her manner, she had every expectation of Carol’s agreeing on a day soon. Damon’s betrayal hit hard. Not that she would have allowed Amber Coleman into her world. She knew they would have little in common.

  Except Damon Hunter.

  Carol declined, citing numerous appointments. Amber didn’t take that well. She couldn’t hide the pique. “You must have some free time. I checked with Damon.”

  Is she trying to wind you up?

  “Damon isn’t in charge of my appointment book, Amber. In fact, I have an appointment this morning. I mustn’t be late for it. Thank you for thinking of me, Amber. I’d like to know the name of your little bird. If it was Laura G, she won’t be seeing me again.”

  Amber broke into a lavish denial. “No, no, no, never Laura, although one can always tell what comes out of her boutique. She has exquisite taste. Damon is my main man. He tells me everything. We’re very close, as you know.”

  “No, I didn’t know, Amber. Thank you for telling me. Obviously I’m going to have a word with Damon about being so indiscreet, even with his closest lady friends.”

  Carol’s brisk response was clearly unexpected. More lavish protests. “Carol, Damon is incredibly discreet, I assure you. He only shares little snippets with me. I never thought for a moment you’d mind.”

  “Just watching my back, Amber,” Carol responded. “Have a wonderful day.”

  She hung up, unsure what to do about this.

  Bad as it was, forewarned was forearmed. Obviously she had been expecting much too much of Damon. Amber had upset her. At the same time, she had pressed home an important point—the only person she could really trust was herself. She knew lots of people would be digging into her life now. It was in her interests to put up a security wall. She could of course speak to Damon. On reflection, she thought she wouldn’t. Better to wait and see what else transpired.

  * * *

  A few days later with Christmas almost upon them she received a call from her Uncle Maurice. He had of course asked for her phone number and got it. It was family, after all, even if the family had ‘dysfunctional’ stamped on it.

  “You’re coming down for Christmas, aren’t you, my dear?” he asked in his rich cultured voice. “We all want to make up for the past. It was my father, you know, who controlled us all. When you’re apportioning blame—and why wouldn’t you?—you could consider that. We do so want you to come. It’s your home, after all. You’ve been good enough to allow us to stay on. We’re grateful. This Christmas won’t be Christmas without you.”

  For whatever reason her uncle was piling it on thick.

  Watch your back.

  * * *

  “Are you mad?” Amanda shrieked when Carol told her. “They probably want you dead. Doesn’t it all revert to your uncle?”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “There you are, then,” Amanda said as though offering proof positive.

  “Would you like to come to Beaumont with me? Your parents are still in Scotland.”

  “You’re serious. You are serious?” Amanda looked ecstatic at the thought.

  “Of course I’m serious. There’s tons of room and you can be the one to—”

  “I know—watch your back. Gosh, this is great news, Caro. I know Em was getting around to asking me to join her and her family, but a visit to Beaumont! Wow!”

  So that was settled. There was a time when she had planned on asking Damon to come down for a day or two, make it sound like a fun time—bring someone with him, if he liked. Not Amber Coleman; she had voiced her views on Amber Coleman. Maybe another girlfriend? She had seen the glossy photographs. Now she had to withhold that invitation, though it cost her some pain-filled moments, like one of her little heart strings had snapped. Life was full of sad moments.

  Better get used to it.

  She was used to it. They all were.

  The Chancellors weren’t happy people. They didn’t even pretend to be.

  * * *

  The minute she saw him walk into the boardroom, she wavered, half-drugged by the wave of heat in her blood. She could feel the plash in her veins. Her whole being was crying out for his attention.

  Pathetic. You’re pathetic, girl.

  Actually, she was amazed how this had all started. Damon Hunter had changed her life.

  “Carol!” He acknowledged her with his beautiful heart-breaking smile. He came around to her, bending his raven head to kiss her lightly on the cheek. They had reached that stage in a remarkably short time. So far as she observed, no one appeared to find the gesture any way out of the ordinary. She was after all only twenty years of age and her lack of height reinforced her aura of youth. Occasionally she got a “teacher’s pet” feeling. There was enough evidence to support the fact her key people had all grown protective of her, male and female alike. She didn’t understand that her team had come not only to like her—she was totally without any side—they admired her as well for her intelligence, her admirable goals and the amount of hard work she had to put in to halfway match them.

  They had come together to discuss the development of a huge building site only recently secured following demolition of the old building. Architects and engineers sat around the table. Since he had taken over the administration of Carol’s trust, Damon had been voted onto the Chancellor Group board, a huge step up even for him. Clearly this had been Selwyn Chancellor’s intention. At intervals Damon gave her a half smile across the table. One of the engineers was as good as bullying his partner into agreeing to a plan he had put forth. Finally, with the last word coming from Lew Hoffman by way of an excellent suggestion by Damon, a compromise was reached.

  Carol said her goodbyes, preparing to walk to the bank of lifts, when Damon caught her up.

  “Where are you off to in such a hurry?” He had felt the negative vibes, surprised and not a little thrown by them. He valued Carol’s good opinion and the bond they had formed. No one could possibly question he wasn’t doing his very best for her, but kne
w he had a lot of eyes on him. Some would be happy to break the strong lawyer-client bond. He knew he had the entire situation under control and he was one hundred per cent committed to giving his all to Carol Chancellor, his client, and Carol Chancellor, his friend. Or so he had hoped.

  She tilted her face to him. No one was ever going to eclipse him, she thought drearily. “I’m so sorry, Damon, did you want me for something?”

  He stared down into her softly flushed face. She was wearing a sleeveless silk dress in a shade of cobalt that made a dazzle of her eyes. “What’s the matter? Clearly something is.”

  “An open book, am I?” Was her unexpectedly sharp reply.

  “Carol, I always check to see you’re okay.”

  “Well, I’m fine, Damon.” She gave him her best smile.

  It didn’t fool him one bit. “A little testy, perhaps? If there’s anything bothering you, you should tell me about it.”

  One of the lifts arrived. The door opened. He took her elbow as they both stepped in. Damon pressed a button and the lift began its smooth, silent descent.

  She’d had no intention of bringing up the reasons for her upset. But too much adrenaline was pumping through her. It blew the lid. Once started, she swiftly found she was out of control. “Why ever did you give out my phone number to Amber Coleman?”

  He reacted just as fast. “Would you run that past me again?”

  “Amber Coleman, your close friend,” she stressed. “She rang me to arrange coffee and a chat.”

  “Are you serious?” His tone deepened and darkened.

  “You bet I am. She might be a pal of yours, but I don’t like her.”

  “I’m well aware of that, Carol.”

  “All the more reason for you not to hand out my number.”

  “So that’s very clear to you, is it?” His dark baritone was edged with ice.

  They had reached the ground floor. He kept alongside her until they were out of the building and in the busy street. There Damon drew her into the near arcade. “You’re saying Amber told you she got your number from me?”

  “Made a point of it.” Carol was well past tiptoeing around the subject. She knew she was giving herself away showing how very upset she was but she couldn’t stop now.

  “And you believed her?” he asked in brusque fashion.

  Our very first argument.

  “Well...” She gazed up at him with accusation. “That’s how it went down.”

  “I see.” He paused for a moment, as though getting himself together. “Weren’t you the one who spoke about how important mutual trust is?” he challenged.

  Carol wasn’t a redhead for nothing. She fired up. “Don’t you attempt to lecture me, Damon.”

  What do you think you’re achieving, exactly? The voice of reason cut in like a blade.

  He glanced at her distressed face then said quietly, “Let’s walk. I’m very surprised Amber told you that.”

  She obeyed him. She badly needed to repair her nerves. “Are you saying it’s a lie? She did it out of malice?”

  “She was mistaken,” Damon clipped off.

  “And that’s an answer?”

  He took her arm. They were inside the famous Queen Victoria Building, built in 1898 to celebrate Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee. There was a figure of the Queen surrounded by royal jewellery and costumes as well as a life-size Chinese imperial bridal carriage made of solid jade. They were about to pass one of the prestige jewellery shops in the arcade, with a glittering display in the window. Damon turned her as though they intended to study the display. Neither of them did. They had far different things on their minds.

  “No, Carol, that’s a fact.” Damon spoke with utter sincerity. “I did not give Amber your phone number. I would never give out your phone number without your permission.” And maybe not even then, he thought, but didn’t add.

  “So who told her?”

  “At this point, I don’t know. Amber is better than most at ferreting out information. I’ll put it to her.”

  Carol bowed her head, abashed. “No, forget about it, Damon. I declined her offer anyway. She’s busy checking me out. But you did tell her all about the celebratory dinner you organised for me?” She decided it would be better to withhold further revelations like where she had bought her evening dress from. It was extremely important to her to have Damon on her side. Now she thought she might have muffed it, his dark eyes were so sombre.

  “Can you really see me doing that?”

  She braced herself. “I’m sorry, Damon, but it matters to me.”

  “And it matters to me,” he clipped off.

  “Sorry, sorry.” She hoped some sort of an apology would count. “I believe she wants me out of your life, Damon, for whatever reason. She wants me to stay out.”

  “Possibly,” Damon admitted. He was well aware of Amber’s jealous nature and her propensity for playing games. “I’ll see to it she doesn’t trouble you again.”

  “No, leave it, please, Damon,” she said in agitation. “It’s my fault. I’m too naive. I believed her. My apologies.”

  His eyes hadn’t left her lovely upset face. “Accepted.” Jealousy was in the nature of things. He had seen Amber at two functions. He hadn’t partnered her on those occasions. He had gone with a female colleague, Rennie Marston, a good friend some five or six years older than himself with the grace, wit and intelligence Amber lacked. Amber wouldn’t have been jealous of Rennie. In Amber’s eyes Rennie would have been well and truly over the hill. But Carol Chancellor was a fresh-as-a-rosebud twenty-year-old. He thought he had kept all sexual interest in Carol well hidden. But Amber, sharp as a tack in that department, must have spotted it.

  A flippant superior-styled voice came from behind them, surprising and dismaying them. “You know, the two of you look for all the world like a couple checking out engagement rings?”

  Carol spun to face her cousin. She was in control again. “You’re watching way too much TV, Troy. We’re talking business.”

  “Of course.” Troy bent his head. Clearly his intention was to kiss her only Carol, seeing the kiss coming, turned her face away. It wasn’t good to so dislike one’s cousin.

  Troy was not to be put off. “Dad tells me you’re coming to Beaumont for Christmas,” he continued in the same flippant vein.

  “Uncle Maurice has gone very social,” Carol remarked dryly.

  “I tell you, it just gets better and better,” Troy declared. “We should have a glorious time.”

  We? Damon didn’t like this new development one little bit. It disturbed him. He had hoped there would be no secrets between them. Clearly, that wasn’t the case. Carol hadn’t said a word to him about spending Christmas at Beaumont. Not that she really needed to, but he had thought... Obviously he had presumed too much.

  “Invite a friend if you like, Troy.” Carol spoke casually, but she had seen a course of action. Jumped at it. “I’ve already invited a girlfriend and Damon will be spending a few days with us, won’t you, Damon?” She smiled at him as she would a dear friend.

  For an instant Troy looked more than angry. He looked slighted, even enraged.

  “It’s difficult for Damon, but he has promised.” She pinned Damon’s eyes, knowing he would save her any embarrassment by backing her.

  That on-the-spot invitation presented no difficulty for Damon. As it happened, he welcomed it to the point when he had to seriously consider Carol Chancellor’s importance in his life. He didn’t just like and respect her. He had been afraid he was falling in love with her. Probably too true. Nevertheless, he shot back a pristine white cuff to look at his watch. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. We should be heading off, Carol.”

  “Heading off where?” Troy demanded to know. He just hated Damon Hunter, the crackerjack lawyer, and didn’t bother to hide it. Every feature of his good-looking face was stiff with what could only be interpreted as jealousy.

  “Business, business, business,” Carol chanted.

  “Money, mo
ney, money,” Troy snorted. “But hey, don’t let me stand between you and your ill-gotten gains.” He had thought that in paying attention to little Carol he might be rewarded. He’d had that reward in mind for some time; was savouring it, in fact. She seemed to get more beautiful every time he saw her. She was certainly very fashionably and expensively dressed. No student-type gear any more. He bitterly resented Hunter’s strong presence in her life. They were getting way too close.

  “A legally watertight inheritance from your grandfather.” Damon put him straight. “And I’d advise you not to make any slanderous statements or make an enemy of your cousin. That goes for me, too, as Carol’s attorney.”

  It was apparent even to Troy, who had been angry all his life, that he had strayed into dangerous waters. He backed down. “Don’t you think it understandable we’re unhappy about what the old man did?” he whined. “My mother is right. It was revenge, pure and simple.”

  “Only revenge is neither pure nor simple,” Damon warned. “It would be a huge mistake for you to go looking for it. You know the saying: before you embark on your journey of revenge, dig two graves.”

  “Bible, right?” Troy shot a glare at Damon.

  “Confucius,” Carol corrected with a sparkle in her eyes. “I urge you, Troy, to accept our grandfather’s decision. I know you were brought up believing you’re entitled to every good thing in life. As far as that goes, our grandfather left us all an indecent amount of money. I intend to use my share wisely.”

  Troy responded with an apology. “I didn’t intend to upset you, Carol. I’m more than happy to see you back in my life. You always were a clever little thing. Now you’re very, very special.”

  The long look Troy Chancellor gave his cousin was very definitely sexual.

  That was most unfortunate, Damon thought, not to mention dangerous. Instinct told him Carol’s cousin, Troy, could turn into a potential problem.