Entangled With The Heiress (Louisiana Legacies Book 1)

by Dani Wade

  Rhett didn’t bother to comment on that. The investigators of the helicopter crash had easily ruled it an accident. The experienced pilot had flown for Michael for years and lost his own life—it had nothing to do with foul play.

  “I will figure out if she married him for his money,” he said, “but I do have a few questions for the two of you.”

  Did he come right out with it? Or take a subtler approach? Patricia and Richard didn’t seem the subtle type.

  “Why would you question us?” Patricia had the ruffled chicken feathers posture down to an art.

  “Because it’s important for me to understand what is happening on all sides of the situation.” Especially during his unexplained crisis of conscience. “I visited Maison de Jardin yesterday. It’s a very beautiful, very valuable property.”

  He didn’t miss the quick glance the couple exchanged.

  Richard was prepared for this subject. “I see you’ve heard the rumors about how easy it would be to sell the place.”

  “Of course, it would be,” Patricia concurred. “But that’s never been our intention.”

  Rhett wasn’t buying it. No one could look at that place and not wonder what it was worth. “You never encouraged Michael to sell the estate and move the charity to a smaller property?”

  “Many times,” Patricia said with a wave of her hand. “But that was before. It has nothing to do with us fighting for our rightful place as Michael’s heirs.”

  “Besides, the businesses are worth far more than Maison de Jardin would ever be,” Richard assured him...a little too glibly.

  “But the businesses wouldn’t be as easy to liquidate if you needed money.”

  “That’s not an issue,” Patricia snapped.

  “According to the IRS it is.”

  She gasped. “We are not under investigation here.”

  That’s what she would want him to think. He didn’t miss the fact that she didn’t dispute what he was saying. “I have to ask all the questions. As I’ve said many times in my career, if you haven’t done anything wrong, you have nothing to hide.”

  “Don’t compare us with Trinity and her like,” Patricia hissed. “We aren’t criminals.”

  Yet.

  Richard had a cooler head. “He’s right, darlin’. And we have absolutely nothing to hide.” He nodded at Rhett. “Yes, our finances have been strained lately, and it’s no secret that Michael had many buyers approach him with offers for Maison de Jardin through the years. His parents, too.” Richard took a few steps closer, meeting Rhett’s gaze head-on. “But we simply want what is best for the companies. That’s the important part right now.”

  Patricia’s phone dinged while the men stared each other down. Rhett ignored her until she held her phone out to her husband with a smirk. “Well, if you wanted to create even more negative press for her, you’re doing pretty well,” she said.

  Richard’s surprised expression didn’t bode well. “Yes, sir,” he said. “You are certainly good at your job.”

  Then he turned the screen around so Rhett could see the posted picture of him kissing Trinity.

  Nine

  The first giggle didn’t quite register. It was just background noise that Trinity easily dismissed.

  Then she heard another giggle. Then another, accompanied by a rising swell of murmurings that set her teeth on edge. She was used to this, ever since she’d first gone out in public after Michael’s death. But this might be the worst she’d experienced. It was like a dream she’d had as a teenager about walking through the school halls in her pj’s with everyone she knew laughing at her when she passed by.

  It might have nothing to do with you.

  But a quick glance around showed furtive looks being thrown her way. It was definitely about her. What horrible thing had that blogger posted now?

  Before she could dig her phone out of her pocketbook, Bill appeared at her side. “Trinity, how could you do this?”

  Uh-oh. “Do what?”

  One flash of his phone and heat burned across her cheeks. She didn’t even have to see the comments. She could imagine what they were. There she was, in full color, getting hot and heavy with Rhett on a public sidewalk. At least, that’s what the picture made it look like. Only the two of them knew the kiss had been brief, and in her mind innocent. While it had been wonderful, it hadn’t been an action inspired by lust or arousal.

  Though it had ultimately sparked both, at least for her.

  But she’d felt like it had started as Rhett’s way of showing admiration. Something she hadn’t had in a long time. No one else knew the context, the conversation that had preceded that small moment in time.

  Bill took her arm, leading her back through the house toward the front rooms. They were halfway there when Larry joined them. He shook his phone at them, though the screen was black. “Bill, this is not the impression I was trying to make.”

  Trinity wished a hole would open up and swallow her. Never having had much of a love life, she wasn’t used to it being talked about by anyone, much less by strangers. She’d avoided the spotlight her entire life, only to find herself living in it permanently since Michael’s death.

  She wasn’t sure how much of this she could take. To her dismay, she was finding that her loyalty to him might actually have its limits.

  The men continued flanking her on each side, making her feel like she was being escorted out in shame. Her stomach roiled, the smell of spicy food setting off a wave of nausea as her emotions washed over her. How could this be happening? How could Michael have left her to this?

  She ducked her head, hoping to hide the tears that welled up. Picking up her pace, she rushed on, just hoping for a bit of privacy before she broke down.

  But after a moment, someone stepped into her path. Before she could even look up, she knew it was Rhett. It was his smell. She felt his touch on her arm. She immediately wanted to collapse into his arms and let the world disappear. Which made her straighten her spine and squeeze her eyes shut.

  Then she heard Larry from her side. “Isn’t our situation enough of a soap opera at the moment? What were you two thinking?”

  Would the embarrassments never end?

  “Excuse me?” The hard tone of Rhett’s voice was a warning Larry ignored.

  “The purpose of tonight is to allay our stockholders’ fears, soothe our employees’ worries.” Larry shook his phone. “This doesn’t exactly say ‘focused on keeping our business stable.’”

  “Let’s not talk about this in the open,” Bill said, leading Trinity into a little alcove near the front door.

  She wanted nothing more than to just bolt out the door and be done with today.

  Larry trailed behind them. “You’ve embarrassed us, Trinity,” he scolded.

  Rhett pivoted to face him. “Do not talk to her like that. It’s uncalled for.”

  They all stood frozen for a moment. Trinity could barely breathe for the emotions squeezing her chest. Until now, only two people had ever stood up for her during her lifetime. One was her mother. She’d done it quietly, with actions rather than her words. Michael had done it through support, but never direct confrontation.

  But here was Rhett defending her out in the open.

  “Look,” he went on, “the kiss was a simple thank-you. Not the seduction that picture makes it look like.”

  He glanced back toward the crowds in the open space of the living area. Here and there, someone looked their way but no one had made a move to pursue them. “Even if it had been, we’re adults. What happened yesterday should have been between the two of us. Not between us and the whole world.”

  “Not when her husband just died and we are fighting for his inheritance,” Larry hissed.

  The two men stared each other down as they jockeyed for dominance.

  Bill’s voice was much softer. “It does l
ook bad.”

  “Public opinion doesn’t sway a judge,” Rhett insisted.

  The slow shake of Bill’s head made Trinity’s stomach sink. “This is the South. It depends on the judge.”

  Rhett squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, blowing out a deep breath. “Right now,” he finally said, “we just need to get Trinity out of here.”

  Larry straightened with an almost audible snap. “That defeats the purpose of this little shindig.”

  Trinity let her gaze find Rhett’s. She could feel her mask falling into place. The same one she’d used to tell her daddy she didn’t care how much he yelled and hit her. The same one she donned in the boardroom when Richard and Patricia flung insults at her. The mask that hid the real feelings that people only used against her.

  “It’s okay,” she said. Even though she knew it would be hours before she could seek the safety and solitude of her suite at Hyatt House.

  Rhett searched her face with his gray-green eyes, making her wonder if he could see beyond the mask to the humiliation and pain beneath. She hoped not.

  He nodded enigmatically. Then he stepped across their little circle to wrap his arm around her shoulders. “If that’s the case, we will go all in,” he announced.

  He led her away from the little group, but he didn’t let go as they paused at the top of the steps leading into the living area. If anything, he pulled her a little closer.

  She glanced up at him, unsure what he was planning. His proximity sent shivers down her spine despite the twenty pairs of eyes turned in their direction. “What should I do?” she asked, desperate for even an ounce of the calm demeanor he seemed to have adopted like a well-worn sweater.

  He smiled down at her, a look so intimate it took her breath away. The feel of his arm holding her close was the most secure she’d felt in her entire life.

  “Hold your head high, Trinity.” Then he led her into the crowd.

  * * *

  A week later, Rhett strode down the hall of Hyatt House, irritation feeding his quick stride. This was the third morning in a row that Trinity had missed breakfast and he was having no more of it. She was coming to breakfast if he had to carry her there.

  He knew where she would be. The library or the office. He’d found her in both places for the last few days, crouched over books he’d recommended or drawing up notes and plans for the businesses. While he admired her dedication—he’d rarely seen a CEO more dedicated than she was—he had to admit he was worried.

  First, she was avoiding him. After all the attention from the NOLA Secrets & Scandals blog post, he shouldn’t blame her. But he did. Her avoidance left him aching to see her, talk to her and, if he was honest, touch her again.

  Second, she was working herself into an illness.

  He walked through Michael’s empty office into Trinity’s. There she was, behind her desk. Only she wasn’t really sitting. Instead she was propping herself up by her arms and shoulders on the cluttered desktop. Her face was buried in a book, but she wasn’t reading. Her hair fanned over her face, hiding her closed eyes from view.

  Rhett paused for a moment, almost in awe of the softening he felt in his chest. No matter how much his brain said it was dangerous, he couldn’t fight it. He admired her determination, her loyalty and her grace under pressure. The way she pushed herself to learn and grow for the good of people she would probably never meet.

  It was so unlike how he’d first heard her described: as a charity director who had conned a billionaire into marrying her.

  He slowly advanced across the room, uncertainty slowing his steps. What should he do? Part of him wanted to carry her to bed. His intentions weren’t entirely pure, but he had a feeling the only way she’d stay there would be if he wrapped her up in his arms and held her still until sleep became irresistible. He could just imagine her soft warmth molding against him as she surrendered to the rest her body needed so badly.

  But then all his pure intentions would probably go up in smoke.

  Should he wake her? Find a way to make her more comfortable where she was? She’d wake up with a terrible backache once her nap was over. It was hardly restful.

  For the first time in his career—hell, since the moment he’d realized his fiancée was preparing to take him for all he was worth—he put aside his suspicions and let himself feel.

  He felt the weight of responsibility and a touch of guilt that he had given her what was essentially busy work to satisfy a bunch of men who couldn’t believe in her. He felt admiration for her hard work and dedication. He felt an anxious need to touch her in a way she’d never forget.

  What was that about? It was certainly something he’d never felt before. Something he dared not put into words...even in his own mind. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t act on it.

  Steeling himself against what could only be a weakness, he strode across the quiet space. With a firm touch, he rubbed her back until she stirred in the chair. It took a few moments before her eyes opened. Even then, she looked up with a hazy cloud over her gaze that warned him she wasn’t fully awake.

  Was she always like this? Would he need to kiss her awake in the mornings, slowly bringing her to consciousness in a sweetly sensual way? Or was she normally an eager riser, with this haziness only brought on by too many late nights and too much studying?

  He knelt beside her chair. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. It’s time for breakfast.”

  She looked cute with her unguarded frown and wayward hair cascading in all directions.

  What the hell was he thinking?

  He firmed his tone. “You will come eat. We’ll discuss what needs to happen next after you have some food in you.”

  She stood, self-consciously tugging at her rumpled clothes and smoothing down her hair. Her balance still seemed a little unsteady as they made their way back down the hall.

  “How late were you up last night?” he asked, his tone hushed to match the quiet atmosphere of the house before the bustle of the day.

  She mumbled a little, probably expecting to get away with not really answering, but he paused and looked down at her. He wouldn’t have asked the question if he didn’t want the answer.

  Her gaze skittered away from his before settling somewhere on the floor ahead of them. “Three...maybe four. I’m not sure.”

  Yes, this definitely had to stop.

  When they got to the dining room, she simply dropped into the chair at the table and stared out the window onto the rain-soaked patio. Only one of the French doors was open this morning, letting in the sweet, cool breeze. He filled her plate with eggs, fruit and the biscuit with strawberry jam and butter she had every morning. To his relief, she dug right in without complaint. He waited until she had a good portion in her before he started.

  “You’re taking on too much,” he said, not bothering to beat around the bush.

  Her confused look wrinkled her adorable brow. “I have to prove I’m competent.”

  And he’d been a party to making her feel that way, something he could now admit he regretted. “At the expense of your health? Your ability to think and reason? All of that diminishes with lack of sleep, exercise and food. Then where will you be? Where will the residents of Maison de Jardin be?”

  He let a touch of irritation creep into his voice. “On top of that, you’ve been giving up your salary. I’m all for helping others, but your sense of self-preservation seems to have gone right out the window. You’re too sensible for that.”

  For the first time, Rhett got to see anger flush those gorgeous cheeks. She narrowed her eyes but couldn’t hide her tears. “I don’t understand what you want from me,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “For you to cut yourself a break.”

  Her irritation was replaced by a look of surprise. He had to wonder if anyone had ever bothered taking care of her, instead of her
always being the responsible one. Had Michael ever pampered her? Loved on her?

  “Look, you’re working very hard. But if you burn out, you can’t help anyone, can you?”

  Her shoulders slumped, which made him feel like a bully. But this was important, dammit!

  “You need rest and a day off.”

  She looked skeptical.

  “An entire day,” he insisted.

  “I don’t know.”

  How could he tempt her? “If you could do anything fun, what would it be?”

  She didn’t even hesitate. “I’d go to the movies.”

  He hadn’t expected that. He’d rarely seen her watch television—she was always so focused on books and paperwork. “I’m not sure if being in public is a good idea, but we’ll make it work.” Maybe he could rent out a theater for the day?

  A small grin, her first for the day, tugged at her bow-shaped lips. “Actually, follow me. I have a surprise for you.”

  Ten

  Trinity headed into the theater room, energy in her step for the first time since Rhett had woken her up at her desk. She heard his quick intake of breath and smiled. It was the same reaction she had to this room every time she walked through the door.

  “Michael had this built for me,” she said, her voice hushed as if not to disturb the memories that lingered here.

  She’d spent so many nights here beside her best friend, watching the latest action releases, laughing over old comedies and peeking through her fingers at the villain on the big screen. But in truth, she didn’t want the reminder of her dead husband to cast shadows on this moment.

  Michael had gone all in on an old-fashioned theater look: velvet curtains, iron lantern fixtures, and a full-wall screen. But the seating was modern. In the center of the room was a comfortable-looking oversize power lounger big enough for two. Pairs of oversize leather recliners were lined up around it from the screen to the back wall. Trinity strolled over to it and pushed a single button. With a whir of machinery, the top half dropped all the way back so the viewer could actually lie down if she wanted.