Entangled With The Heiress (Louisiana Legacies Book 1)

by Dani Wade

Some of it must have gotten through to Rhett because he pulled back just enough to look down at her. “Everything okay?” he asked.

  She wanted it to be... More than anything. But her brain simply wouldn’t shut off. She licked her lips. What should she do?

  “Trinity?” he said, once again stroking her hair back from her face.

  She didn’t want to say it out loud, but her body chose for her. “No, I’m not okay.”

  Even as she tried to rein in her panic, Trinity felt it slipping through her grasp. Control was a thing of beauty in her world. The one thing that allowed her to steer in the face of wave after wave that threatened to capsize her boat. Right now, as her heart raced out of control and she struggled to breathe, control seemed forever out of her grasp.

  She pulled away, pressing her palms into the soft cushions as she forced breath in and out of her lungs. She tried stretching to relieve the tightness from her back and neck, anchoring herself to keep from losing her balance. But it wasn’t the physical symptoms that were the most daunting—it was the constant racing of her thoughts.

  Why wouldn’t they stop?

  “Trinity,” Rhett said from the opposite side of the lounger. His voice wavered as her brain cried out for more oxygen, making it a struggle to understand his words. “What’s the matter?”

  But she couldn’t tell him. Nothing would allow her to voice the fears his touch evoked. It was a can of worms she simply wasn’t ready to open. After all, she’d spent the last eight weeks pretending to be the epitome of Michael’s true love. She knew she’d been his closest friend. She’d told others time and again that she’d been his best friend. But that wasn’t what they wanted to hear. She was either his one true love...or a gold digger.

  To tell anyone that she was still a virgin after becoming a widow would shatter the illusion of why she and Michael had married...because no one wanted to hear the truth.

  Knowing that she wouldn’t be able to hide that knowledge from Rhett if she slept with him wasn’t something she was ready to deal with. The last thing she wanted was to rehash her relationship with her husband right after having sex with someone else.

  She clenched her fists into the cool silkiness of the cushions, forcing herself to focus on the tangible connection as she continued drawing air in and out. In and out. In and out.

  “I’m sorry,” she finally gasped. Which felt juvenile and lame. What woman has a panic attack because a sexy man wants to touch her?

  What was wrong with her?

  “I’m sorry,” she said again, her voice steadier this time. “I just started thinking...and I couldn’t stop.”

  He stood nearby, dwarfing her with his height. “That doesn’t sound like the result I was looking for.”

  The amused tone in his voice at least cut the tension a notch. “Yeah,” she gasped. “Not helpful.”

  “Do you need anything?”

  “This is gonna sound nuts.” And probably was, but she couldn’t talk about her biggest concern. Not openly. So she moved on to the next one. “But I started to think about some person, some photographer, suddenly jumping out of the shadows and taking pictures of me. Of us. Isn’t that crazy?”

  “I hope that doesn’t happen. That’s the last thing I want people to watch me doing.” He laughed.

  “Hey, what about me?” she asked with fake indignation. It was easier than focusing on her panic attack, and she was grateful to him for leading them in a less intense direction.

  He shrugged. “I’m pretty sure you’ll be beautiful regardless of what you’re doing.”

  “Flatterer.”

  As self-conscious as that made her feel, at least they weren’t dwelling on her other issues...

  But Rhett wasn’t about to be kept at arm’s length for long. He reached out and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. His warmth at her side made her feel supported, but it wasn’t sexual in any way. She hooked her hands over his forearm draped across her front, anchoring herself.

  “You probably think I’m being overly dramatic,” she finally said.

  He rested his forehead briefly against hers before straightening again. “Look, everything has happened very quickly,” he acknowledged. “I understand that. You’ve barely had time to mourn your husband.”

  Trinity felt a jolt burst through her. Her husband. Difficult to remember. Hard to forget.

  “And now all of this other stuff with the businesses and charity and the press.” He squeezed her against him for a moment. “I think being touchy and emotional is a normal response.”

  “That’s making allowances,” she said, hearing echoes of her mother’s stern voice in her words.

  Rhett shook his head in denial. “No. Most days you’re regal, moving through it all with a poise I can only envy. But everyone is human. Even you.”

  She lifted her chin so she could stare at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Michael used to say that,” she answered, reluctant to bring him up but needing to be honest. Just try your best. Everybody makes mistakes. “He didn’t accept deliberate slacking, but he also remembered that the people around him had limits.”

  “Sounds like a smart man.”

  At first, she thought Rhett was retreating as his grip loosened but then he eased one of his large hands around her to rub her back. He gave her comfort. Something she’d had very little of in her life...and none since she’d lost Michael. Would Rhett understand what that meant for her?

  “He was my best friend,” she said, hating that she sounded lost, forlorn. She couldn’t help but wonder what Rhett would say if he found out that Michael hadn’t been more than that.

  Rhett’s touch at the base of her neck distracted her from her worries. “Don’t worry about this, Trinity,” he said.

  She barely suppressed a huff of laughter. Rhett added his own chuckle.

  “I know. Easier said than done.” He tipped her chin up to look into her eyes. “But there’s no obligation here. No plan going forward. Take your time to think it through, and decide what you really want. Okay?”

  Trinity nodded, but deep inside, she feared this was a choice she wasn’t ready to make.

  Twelve

  Trinity smiled as Roberto helped Madison into the back of the limo the following evening. The redhead looked flushed but beautiful in her silky lavender gown. Not a look Madison was used to sporting. At Maison de Jardin, they normally favored yoga pants or jeans, but this was something the younger woman needed to get used to if she was going to represent the charity at fund-raising events.

  “Ready?” Rhett asked with a smile. He was sitting next to Trinity on the plush leather back seat.

  Madison raised a skeptical brow. “No.”

  Trinity couldn’t hold back a small chuckle. She knew the other woman well.

  Madison smiled a little. “I’m not a huge fan of crowds,” she conceded. “Spending most of your life in a sickroom will do that.” She rushed on, as if she wanted to change the subject. “But I’m really grateful that you offered me an invite. And this dress!” She fingered the material, testing the smooth texture. “It’s so gorgeous, Trinity. Thank you.”

  Trinity smiled over the nervous chatter, remembering her own first society fund-raiser. She’d been a bit younger than Madison, and definitely more soft-spoken, but she understood the nerves that came with the job. Having Michael at her side had only helped a little. “It’s okay. Just relax. And remember, I’ll be right there with you.” She glanced over at Rhett. “Have I mentioned this is Madison’s first event?”

  “I never would have guessed it.” He winked at the younger woman. “You look gorgeous, Madison.”

  Definitely a flatterer.

  “Don’t worry,” he went on. “You’ll soon realize it’s always just the same boring people talking about the same boring things—”

  Trinity cu
t him off. “You’re making it worse. She’s starting to turn green.”

  They all laughed, which helped Madison’s color return to normal. The lush foliage, wrought iron gates and decorative stone and brick of the Garden District floated by as Roberto drove them at a leisurely pace to their destination.

  “So you live in the Garden District but don’t go to the upper-crust parties?” Rhett teased, making Trinity want to elbow him in the side. She knew he was trying to provide a distraction, but worried Madison wouldn’t want to discuss her history with a stranger.

  “My family used to be pretty well-known,” Madison conceded with only a slight hesitation. “But after my mom died, my father withdrew from almost all social contact. Then he got sick, so...”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Rhett said.

  She shrugged and said, “It doesn’t bother me. I’d rather be useful than pretty, as my father used to say.” She paused to nibble on her lip for a moment. “What if I don’t know what to say? I mean, it’s not like these people will be interested in how I can feed twenty people every day or coordinate their laundry.”

  The women shared a smile as Trinity remembered her own challenges juggling the two sides of the job. The practicalities of running a charity for women and children were worlds away from anything the glamorous people who supported it had to deal with.

  “A lot of it is listening,” Rhett offered. “Everyone wants to be heard, right? Listen and pay attention. Offer your unique perspective on whatever the subject matter is.”

  Trinity knew that advice to be sound. “If I’ve learned anything in the last few months, it’s that you don’t need to be formally educated to have an opinion. A lot of people at these events have advanced degrees but no practical experience. Just bring that to the table and know you have an insider’s view of what charities like ours need on a day-to-day basis.”

  Surprising Trinity with a quick kiss, Rhett winked at Madison. “But it helps to have someone beautiful and intelligent at your side.”

  Trinity glanced down, her heart picking up speed at the sight of Rhett’s hand clasped around her own. He’d decided to fully embrace whatever this was between them and didn’t seem worried about providing more fodder for the press.

  She’d prefer not to appear on a certain blogger’s website again, but wondered what else could possibly be done to her at this point. She’d been called a gold digger, a hooker, a woman willing to use her body to get what she wanted from a young age. Couldn’t get much worse than that.

  She hoped, since this was a ticketed, private event at a private home, she didn’t have any worries on that front tonight.

  As if he could read her mind, Rhett squeezed her hand, drawing her attention up to his gaze. He lowered his voice so only she could hear. “Worried?”

  “Should I be?” Why she wanted to appear brave to him, she wasn’t sure. He’d seen the worst of her fears, anxieties and exhaustion. Who was she kidding?

  “No.” His gray gaze was steady on her. “I say go all in. Give ’em what they want to see.”

  She worried at her lower lip, probably ruining her carefully applied lipstick. His attempts to take care of her went straight to her heart. “It’s easier to fade into the background.”

  “They aren’t going to let you, are they?”

  She shook her head, acknowledging the truth. Richard and Patricia wouldn’t stop with their accusations. They’d take every piece of evidence they could find and twist it to support their own version of events. They wanted to make her out to be a grasping harpy who stole their inheritance from them, and threatened the livelihood of thousands of families, when in truth they would simply drain Hyatt Heights of every last ounce of profit they could, all while pretending to be innocent.

  It would support their version of the story if she were seen as moving on from her husband in an unseemly amount of time. Never truly mourning him, though she’d mourned him for months before he’d actually died. That was their twisted truth.

  But she looked at Rhett and knew of the truth. Someone so supportive and understanding couldn’t be a threat to her. She could trust him to help her find her way, and a way for the company, without being swayed by media coverage. As she glanced back down at their intertwined hands, she realized that’s what she wanted. It was exactly what she needed in this moment.

  But was she brave enough to take what he was offering?

  * * *

  Rhett should have had a moment of downtime while Madison and Trinity made a trip to the ladies’ room, but one gesture from Richard over near a back hallway changed all that.

  Rhett’s thoughts churned as he crossed the crowded room. More than anything, he knew he couldn’t give the Hyatts what they wanted. Trinity just wasn’t that kind of woman—the sneaky, conniving woman they wanted her to be. And he couldn’t portray her that way for any amount of money.

  The boisterous music from the live band clashed with Rhett’s inner worries.

  The fact that he was taking a target’s side like this for the first time in his career still left him a little off-kilter. But this wasn’t just about his attraction to her. Even if he wasn’t with Trinity in the long run, he would stand by her side to the end of her ordeal.

  He just hadn’t figured out how he would do that yet.

  After all, he had signed a contract with the Hyatts. His salary wasn’t paid by them, now that he was being paid as a consultant for Hyatt Heights, but he could only imagine what it would do to Trinity to realize he’d been hired to spy on her, not “consult” with her on Hyatt Heights’s businesses. And that was a conundrum he hadn’t figured out how to fix...yet.

  Rhett followed the Hyatts and Larry into a small anteroom that blocked some of the noise from the main hall. No sooner had the trio surrounded him than Richard pounced. “We want more information. Why haven’t you found anything yet?”

  Because there’s nothing to find. “I don’t have anything of interest to report.”

  Patricia took two steps and was in his face, anger pinching her already narrow features. “Then you aren’t trying hard enough. Everything can be twisted to tell a story, if you just look at it from the right angle.”

  Larry cleared his throat. “Now, wait a minute...”

  “We’re running out of time,” Patricia said over him, not bothering to keep her voice lowered. “I want evidence now, not when you’re done having your way with her.”

  Rhett’s control slipped a notch, pushing him to straighten up and brace himself. “Do not speak about her that way.”

  “We can still use it to our advantage,” Patricia said, her expression turning sly. She reached out and gripped one of his biceps with her red-tipped fingers. “Just give ’em some more pictures. A new boyfriend eight weeks after the tragic death of her husband always looks bad.” She shared a glance with her husband. “That should shine a light on her true motives, right?”

  “What?” Larry exclaimed.

  “Shut up.” Patricia was determined to run the show. Her nails dug a little deeper. “We want evidence. I don’t care what kind it is.”

  Larry’s expression grew panicked. “I do.”

  Richard carefully pried his wife’s talons away from Rhett’s arm. “I think we can all work together here. Especially considering the new member of our team.”

  Rhett narrowed his gaze on the man’s face. “What are you talking about?”

  “We put out some feelers on that gossip blogger...” Rhett’s glare didn’t seem to faze Richard. In fact, the man seemed to relish the tension growing in the small room. “And made arrangements for him to be here tonight.”

  “So it’s a man?” Rhett asked.

  Patricia wasn’t fussy about details. “Don’t know. Don’t care. As long as you give him or her some good photos tonight, it will keep the controversy going.”

  “Since you enjoyed the last kiss s
o much, surely you wouldn’t mind providing another,” Richard said with a smirk.

  While kissing Trinity was never a hardship, the last thing he wanted was to put her on display. “I don’t think—”

  “You don’t need to think,” Patricia interrupted. “Simply do as you’re told.”

  Rhett straightened, unable to stop himself from looming over the thin woman. “You don’t seem to understand my job here. I’m an investigator, not some flunky here to make up evidence for you.”

  This time Patricia let her pointed red nail creep down his chest, forcing Rhett to subdue a shudder. “I’m sure Trinity would be interested to learn this about you. Don’t you think?”

  Richard chimed in, “Or we can find someone more accommodating to do it for us.”

  Rhett wasn’t ready for that. He needed more time to figure out how to get them out of this mess with the least amount of damage to Trinity.

  “So you want what? Me to pose for a photo with her so they can shame her again?”

  Larry edged toward the wall, a frown marring his normal good ol’ boy expression.

  Patricia smiled, seeming to sense imminent victory. “Just prove what the world—and the board—already suspect. She’s just in it for the money and doesn’t care what happens to Hyatt Heights or the family name. You’re at least good for that much...or should we find something else on Trinity for the blogger to expose?”

  The look the couple shared said they already had something devious in mind. Rhett worried he couldn’t keep the disgust from his expression much longer. Better to keep his mouth shut, for now.

  “Just think about it. I’m sure you’ll make the right decision,” Patricia said before she sipped her pink martini and walked away.

  Richard gave him a stern look before following her out into the bustling party.

  Larry patted at his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief, looking on the verge of tears. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  “What? Finding yourself in league with the villains?”

  “I didn’t mean for Trinity to get hurt. I just wanted to scare her into doing the right thing.”