In the Heir

by Ruth Cardello

  He turned toward her slowly, and one of his eyebrows arched. “I am not condescending.”

  She gave him a moment to internally review what had come out of his mouth a moment before. Then she said, “You owe me an apology.”

  His jaw tightened, then relaxed. “I respect your job. I shouldn’t have used it to make my point.” She held his eyes during a standoff that lasted a few long minutes. Finally, he sighed. “I’m sorry. I can see you’re right about how I talk to Spencer, but I didn’t see it until you challenged me that first day. When I heard my own words come out of my father’s mouth, I didn’t like the way they sounded.”

  She reached across and put her hand on his thigh. “I can understand that.”

  His hand covered hers, and the connection turned intimate. “I don’t want to be the man you thought I was that first day.”

  “Then don’t be.” She said the words with conviction. Maybe she was nothing more to him than a win over his brother, but he seemed to genuinely want to be a better person. Like her, maybe he was on a journey of self-awareness and improvement.

  Or maybe that’s what I want to believe.

  He chuckled. “You are not the least bit intimidated by me, are you?”

  “Should I be?” Her breathing became shallow, and her body began to warm. She struggled to focus on the topic of their conversation, yet there was his nearness and the way he was looking at her.

  He leaned over, brushed his lips across her cheek, and whispered, “I need someone like that in my life.”

  He needs someone like me? She shuddered with pleasure on more than one level. Do I dare let myself believe that for even a moment?

  As if he sensed her inner conflict, he raised his head and said, “The machine won’t let me put less than five dollars back on, but let’s finish the game.”

  She nodded, still flushed and dazed from the nearness of him. The outcome of the game was the last thing on her mind.

  He punched in a code that added five dollars in credit back to his machine, then brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “For luck,” he said.

  They both hit the “Bet” button at the same time. She won two dollars. He won $800. She pulled her hand free and framed her face in amused outrage. “That is not right.”

  He turned toward her, leaned over, and gave her a brief, gentle kiss on the lips. “I’d say it is. With you, even when I lose, I win.”

  See, that’s where we’re different. If I play, I could lose everything.

  His words echoed through her, and the feel of his lips lingered on hers. Had they been alone, she might have launched herself into his arms.

  I don’t want this to end.

  But where do we go from here?

  As he and Alisha strolled the deck after dinner, Brett marveled at how quickly the day had flown by. The sun was setting on the ocean horizon, and it saddened him to think they’d only have one more day together before they reached Grand Turk and he flew home.

  Unless I stay.

  When they stopped to lean on a railing and watch the sunset, his eyes were drawn to Alisha’s smiling face instead. He put an arm around her as if to brace her from the wind, but he didn’t try to hide the truth from himself. He enjoyed holding her. Being with her felt good. So damn good.

  She rested her head on his shoulder and let out a contented sigh. He gladly would have stood there indefinitely.

  A day of Ping-Pong, shuffleboard, and mai tais would normally have left him feeling restless, but it hadn’t. Even when he traveled, he worked. Between his cell phone and his computer, he was usually able to keep up with everything at the company almost as well as if he were in his office.

  He hadn’t checked his e-mails all day, and he hadn’t felt tempted to. His stomach churned—either at that thought or due to the variety of foods he’d ingested at dinner. When he’d told the chef he wanted the meal to be special, he hadn’t anticipated hours of endless courses.

  She glanced at Brett’s face. “You look a little green. Are you seasick?”

  “No, just too full. I should have paced myself.”

  She chuckled. “Everything was amazing. The chef obviously wanted to impress you. How many times did he say, ‘It is my honor, Mr. Westerly’?”

  He shrugged. “I get that a lot.”

  She hip-checked him. “Watch the ego, you’re already bloated enough.”

  “Bloated?” He looked down at his still-flat abs. “I would offer to prove I’m not, but I’ll let my stomach settle first.”

  Alisha laughed. “Charming. Is that a line you use with all the ladies?”

  He thought about it and answered honestly, “No, but I don’t need to impress you.” When he saw confusion enter Alisha’s eyes, he realized how what he’d said might be taken. He hadn’t meant that he didn’t care enough to try to impress her, he meant that she was the first woman he felt comfortable enough around to just be himself. With her, he wasn’t Brett Westerly, wealthy businessman. He was just a man spending time with a woman he couldn’t get enough of. He was about to attempt to rephrase his comment when a crew member approached them.

  “Mr. Westerly?”

  “Yes,” he answered.

  “I have a message for Miss Coventry.”

  “That’s me,” Alisha said. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, no,” he hastened to assure her. “Your name was drawn out of a raffle in our jewelry store. You may pick up your prize at your convenience.”

  “I didn’t enter a raffle,” Alisha said, then turned to Brett. “Did you?”

  He shrugged. Enter one? No. Had one created? I may be guilty of that. On and off that day he’d thought about why she’d refused the bracelet. She wanted it, but accepting it from him made her feel like she was doing something wrong. The solution had come to him out of the blue and had been easy enough to arrange via his suite’s butler. If all went the way he’d planned, she’d never know. “It’s probably a promotion to bring you back.”

  “Like a coupon.” She turned to the man who had given her the news. “Is the prize thirty percent off something that costs several hundred dollars? If so, I’m not interested.”

  The man deftly dodged her question by saying, “I’m sorry. I don’t work in the sales department. I was simply asked to pass the message along to you.” With that, he excused himself and walked away.

  Alisha looked cautiously optimistic. “I guess it doesn’t matter if it turns out to be a coupon. The prize doesn’t matter. I won something. Do you want to come with me to see what it is?”

  He agreed to. He couldn’t wait to see her expression when she found out what the prize actually was.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Alisha’s enthusiasm grew as she and Brett entered the ship’s jewelry store a few moments later. The woman who had shown her the bracelet earlier smiled and waved them over when she saw them.

  “Miss Coventry. How exciting. We don’t have too many raffles this big, but when we do, it’s a reason to celebrate, yes?”

  “I guess so,” Alisha said with caution. She glanced at Brett, but his expression remained neutral. She turned back to the salesperson and tried to silence the pessimistic thoughts in her head. Was the celebration the catch to winning the prize? She’d get something, then have to star in a cruise commercial or promotional equivalent? She might normally have thought that was a fun possibility, but all she really wanted to do was enjoy her time with Brett.

  “Would you like a glass of champagne?”

  Before Alisha had a chance to accept or decline it, the glass was handed to her. Some of the other customers in the store stared. “Thank you,” she said politely and took a nervous gulp. “I can’t believe I won. I didn’t even enter a raffle.”

  Without missing a beat, the salesperson answered, “Then you truly are lucky.”

  Alisha was about to ask if her name had been drawn from a list of all the ship’s passengers when the woman took out a piece of paper and waved for them to follow her to one
of the display cases.

  The same display case that held the bracelet Brett had wanted to buy for her.

  He wouldn’t have . . .

  He couldn’t have . . .

  No.

  He was a man who played by his own rules, but arranging for her to win something she wouldn’t let him buy her? Just how much do I think this man actually likes me? Enough to spend the day with me? Yes. Enough to want to cheer me up with gifts when he knows I’m sad? Okay. Yes. But to arrange a whole raffle? Just for me? Now who has the bloated ego?

  The salesperson opened the back of the display and said, “You won a five-thousand-dollar voucher that is redeemable only in this store. Of course, you can have your pick of whatever you would like, but if I remember correctly, there is something here that you liked.”

  “Five thousand dollars?” Alisha’s mouth dropped open. “What do I have to do to get it?”

  “Nothing besides claiming it when you return to the United States.”

  “Just like that? I seriously won?”

  “Yes,” the woman said with a smile.

  Alisha hopped up and down as the enormity of her prize sunk in. She turned and hugged Brett spontaneously. “I won five thousand dollars. Thousand.”

  He returned the hug and her smile. “Now you can have the bracelet. That’s fantastic.”

  Alisha tensed. I can. I won enough to get exactly what I wanted. Coincidences like that didn’t happen. Did they? But what was the alternative? To believe that Brett had somehow arranged for her to win?

  When the salesperson clasped the blue diamond bracelet on her wrist, Alisha wanted to believe good things could simply happen. They didn’t have to be part of a master plan. Brett wasn’t trying to manipulate her.

  He won money. I won jewelry. Why couldn’t that happen? It was the most beautiful piece of jewelry she’d ever owned, and it would always remind her of this time with Brett. It would be like having a little piece of him with her always.

  And the universe wanted her to have it. Why else would she win the amount needed to get it?

  Is this my consolation for holding on to my principles? I didn’t take the easy way—this is a sign that I made the right choice.

  “I can’t believe I won it. Everything about this cruise has been amazing so far. I don’t wear much jewelry, but you were right, Brett, I’ll wear it every day. It’s perfect.”

  He kissed her forehead and hugged her closer. “I’m glad it worked out for you.”

  There was a part of her that wanted to ask him if he was in any way responsible for her winning it, but she didn’t want to discover he was. Don’t overthink this. He had nothing to do with it. And I don’t have anything to regret. I can wear it and still look Rachelle in the eye. “Me, too.” She rocked her wrist back and forth, admiring the sparkle of the deep-blue stones. “I don’t know how the rest of the cruise will go, but it will be hard to top today.”

  The salesperson interrupted just long enough to say that the paperwork for the bracelet would be available on the last night of the cruise and that it would be brought to Mr. Westerly’s suite.

  “You mean, Miss Coventry’s,” Brett corrected firmly.

  “Oh yes. Of course. All of the paperwork will be in her name.” The woman looked momentarily flustered, then congratulated Alisha again. She rushed off and returned with a box and bag for the bracelet.

  Alisha took it and met Brett’s eye, noting the lack of guilt. The staff on board tended to go out of their way to please him as if they’d been given specific instructions to do so. “Do you know the owner of the ship?”

  He smiled. “The CEO of the ship line.”

  Am I wrong?

  Stop. The best way to ruin anything is to dissect it.

  Mom always said, “If you dig long enough, you’ll always hit dirt.”

  Oh God, now I’m using her advice to justify my actions? I really am in trouble.

  Brett neither confirmed nor denied that his association with the cruise line had been the reason for her winning. “I hear they’re showing a movie at the pool tonight. If we hurry, we can catch the start of it.”

  “I’d love that. Let’s do it.”

  When they arrived on the deck just above the pool area, they were met by a man with a blanket. The usual reclining chairs had been replaced by round canopy daybeds. One of them had been reserved for them. None of the blogs about cruises that Alisha had read ever mentioned anything like this. “Did you arrange for them to change out the seating?” she asked.

  His blue eyes held hers, but he didn’t answer her question.

  She watched the opening credits begin to roll on the screen below. “You knew this was my favorite movie. I remember telling you it was.”

  His expression remained carefully impossible to read. “You may have mentioned it.”

  “And I told you I’d always wanted to go to a drive-in.”

  A corner of his mouth curled in a sexy hint of a smile. “If you hate the idea of lying in my arms under the stars, we could go watch it below with that herd of children.”

  “Oh, you’re good.”

  His smile widened. “That’s what I’ve been told.”

  She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Are you sure there is enough room for me, you, and your ego on that daybed?”

  He wiggled his eyebrows. “Only one way to find out.”

  Brett hoped Alisha wasn’t going to quiz him on the plot points of the movie, because with her curled up to his side, he sure as hell wasn’t able to concentrate on anything. His senses were in lustful overdrive. He remembered once reading an article online about how postponing one’s pleasure intensified it. He’d dismissed the article as a load of New Age crap, but he had to admit he was physically attuned to Alisha in a way he’d never experienced before. It wasn’t just about wanting to have her calling out his name while he thrust his cock deeper and deeper into her. It had become about the pleasure of her breath caressing his neck when she turned to speak to him. He was aware of every place their bodies made contact, every beat of her heart against his chest, every time she adjusted and her hardened nipples brushed against his arm.

  His body begged to roll over and take what it was painfully craving to plunder. Her mouth. Those amazing breasts of hers. It would take only a shift of his weight for him to be able to slide a hand under her skirt and sink a finger into her pussy. He didn’t, though. When they came together, and there was no doubt in his mind that they would, there would be no reason for either of them to regret it. He’d make sure of that.

  Alisha’s hand was absently caressing his chest as she watched the movie. She turned her head so she could see his face. “Thank you for tonight. No one has ever gone out of their way to make me feel special the way you do.”

  He couldn’t stop himself; he leaned in and kissed her lips gently, but forced himself to pull back before he lost control. If she knew the real him, not the vacation him, she wouldn’t look at him with so much trust in her eyes. “I’m not a nice man.”

  Her hand stopped and splayed across his chest. “Really?” There was a beauty to her that affected him on so many levels. He wanted to have her, but he also wanted to protect her from any hurt that might come from being with someone like him. She deserved a man who believed in forever.

  “I have impossibly high standards for everyone around me, as well as for myself.”

  “Okay.”

  “People fear me in the business world, and I’ve given them reason to. I’ve always won, no matter the collateral damage.”

  “And?”

  “And I’m a fucking miserable bastard. Just like my father. Just like his father before him. I like you, but I wonder if I’m not a bull trying to carry a crystal vase. Is there any version of us where you don’t end up hating me when it ends?”

  She laid her head back on his shoulder without answering and hugged him. He blinked back an emotional response to the simplicity of her support.

  When she spoke, her tone nearly broke his he
art. “I have spent half of my life worrying that I’d become my mother and the other half hating that I didn’t save her from my father. I know a bastard when I see one, and I don’t see one in you.”

  His kissed the top of her head. “My family would debate that point.”

  She hugged him again. “Not if you showed them the side you’ve shown me. I’ve never met a more caring man. Since the first time I met you, even when your words were cutting to Spencer, I knew you wanted the best for him. You’ve stepped forward time and time again to take care of me, to keep me safe. Bring that approach to your brothers and sisters, and they’ll adore you.” She raised her head and met his eyes. “Unless you already have and they don’t know it.”

  He tensed.

  She continued, “Just before college I qualified for financial aid, but Rachelle was denied. We wanted to go to the same school, so we scrambled to find a place we could both afford. At the last minute a scholarship came through that made it possible for her to go to Boston College with me. I remember thinking that when she or her family needed something, miracles abounded. Doors slammed shut for them just like the rest of us, but then they would open and everything would work out. I used to joke that their guardian angels worked overtime. Was that you? Did you watch out for them? Pay for their schooling?”

  Brett didn’t answer. He didn’t want to lie, but he had never wanted to be applauded for taking care of his family. He remembered finding paperwork proving that his father had paid for the nurses who’d cared for Mark during the last months of his life. His father had never told a soul, nor had he. He cleared his throat. “My father was wrong about many things, but he got a few right. He always said that the best good deed is one that no one knows about.”

  “That’s beautiful.” She chewed her bottom lip. “It also explains why he let everyone think it was him and not your mother who cheated. So, he funded Rachelle’s education?”