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One in a Billion

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Год написания книги
2019
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“What?” she asked numbly.

“You’re an heiress, Deidre. The way things stand right now, you’re one of the wealthiest women in the country.”

She might have heard the flutter of a butterfly’s wings in the ensuing silence. She inhaled slowly, trying to ground herself. This could not be happening.

And yet … what was that strange, warm, wonderful feeling growing deep down in her belly?

He made me his heiress. Lincoln truly did believe I was his daughter. His faith was his proof. Lincoln hadn’t required the scientific variety.

Something shivered through her. It took Deidre a moment to recognize the feeling as pure joy.

Nick decided that if Deidre Kavanaugh had had any part in manipulating Linc to alter his will in her favor, she certainly was one hell of an actress. Every nuance of her face and body suggested she was utterly stunned by the news she was an heiress to a massive fortune.

“He didn’t,” she whispered, obviously in shock.

“He did.”

“Lincoln can’t have meant it. There must be a mistake. I’m a nurse, not a businesswoman,” she said hollowly.

“From your reaction, am I to assume you didn’t have prior knowledge of the change of will?”

“I had no idea,” she said. Her spine stiffened when he cocked one eyebrow in a show of subtle disbelief, testing her. She leaned across the console toward him. He caught the subtle scent of her floral perfume and, for a few seconds, his thoughts scattered. Deidre had a way of making him forget practical goals and objectives.

“I resent your tone,” she said. “I suppose you have it all worked out, don’t you? You figure I manipulated and cajoled a sick, vulnerable man into leaving me all his money, is that it?”

“What have I told you, time and again while we were at The Pines together, Deidre?” he murmured softly.

She snapped her jaw closed. He found himself studying her beautiful face cast in the dim dashboard lights. What was it about her? Her elegance mingled with a sort of bad-girl charm. She fascinated him, whether he wanted to be fascinated or not.

“That you’re Lincoln’s man,” she answered his question, her chin tilted at the stubborn angle to which he’d grown all too accustomed. “That you’ll do whatever is in your power to make sure his wishes are carried out,” she quoted the familiar refrain.

He nodded. Their meetings at The Pines had been few and fleeting, not to mention charged. Nevertheless, Nick was glad to hear he’d imparted that particular message loud and clear to her.

“There’s something else I want you to know,” Nick said.

“What?”

“Until I can rest assured you’re his daughter, that Lincoln was of sound mind when he drew up the new will, and that you had no part in coercing Lincoln’s actions in the last days of his life, I plan to contest the will.”

She flinched as if he’d just slapped her. Regret spiked through his awareness, the strength of it catching him off guard. She’d gotten under his skin. He could understand why Lincoln had been so taken by her. But the fact remained, the way things stood, there was a good chance Deidre and he would be sitting across a courtroom from each other sometime in the near future. He had no right to find her fascinating.

“You just don’t get it,” she said, her low voice shaking with fury. “I nursed and cared for Lincoln with every ounce of compassion and skill I possess. Ask any of the servants, or the hospice nurses, or Dr. Leland. Everything I did, I did with the hope of having him for another day … another minute.”

“That may be true. I’m suspending judgment on the matter.”

She gave an incredulous bark of laughter. “Suspending judgment until when?”

“Until I have the opportunity to observe you, understand your character, your motivations, your life. I’ll be staying in Harbor Town for the next few days or weeks or however long it takes to do that.”

“Who says I plan to stay in Harbor Town?”

He shrugged. “I’ll make a point to go wherever you go. I hope you’ll cooperate with this. If you’ve got nothing to hide, why should it matter if I spend time with you and get to know you better?”

“Why don’t you just get that private investigator you hired before to do it?” she asked scathingly.

“I don’t trust his powers of observation as much as I do my own.” He held her stare. He watched as her expression went slack in disbelief as she realized he was dead serious.

“You’re crazy,” she whispered.

“No,” he corrected. “I’m determined. And I’m committed to the health and well-being of DuBois Enterprises and its thousands of employees.”

She made a sound of disgust, but Nick was undaunted. He studied her in the dim light. She’d combed her short, golden blond hair behind her ears, where it curled in gleaming waves. It looked silken soft. She was clearly a beauty, but it wasn’t her physical attributes that made him want to touch her—at least not entirely. It was the way Deidre carried herself, the way she moved with a careless grace and bone-deep confidence. Without ever trying, she was a classic American beauty with an edge. A perfect, prickly, long-stemmed rose …

… Grace Kelly with a serious attitude.

Beautiful, fierce and fascinating Deidre may be, but he’d come here with a mission. Either he’d determine that Deidre was somehow unworthy of Linc’s estate or he’d gain her compliance. It just wasn’t an option to be left at the helm of DuBois Enterprises without any real control, watching helplessly while the great company crashed, taking thousands of employees and dependents down with it.

“What are you really doing here, Nick?” she asked warily.

“I’ve told you. I’m here to learn more about you. If I’m given the opportunity to get to know you for a period of time without you avoiding me, I’ll come to a conclusion about you. We can move on regarding Lincoln’s last will and testament.”

“So what … you plan to investigate me? Stalk me? Harass my friends and family? Lurk around and take pictures of me through a telephoto lens?”

“Would I catch anything interesting?” he asked, hiding a smile.

“I’d make sure you did,” she promised so menacingly he raised his eyebrows. Seeing her slender, elegant figure swathed in a sophisticated dress had temporarily made him forget Deidre was a warrior. The background report he’d commissioned had painted a picture of a courageous, headstrong, fiercely independent woman who refused to settle down into any traditional path. She was not only a collegiate championship diver; she’d been an expert trick skier, financing much of her college education by performing in water shows. Her military record was stellar. She’d even been awarded a medal for entering an active area of combat to save one of her patients when a field hospital had been unexpectedly attacked.

“You can’t plan on staying in Harbor Town,” she continued, looking at him like he was possibly mad. “It’s hardly a place for movers and shakers.”

“I’ll manage. I work on the road all the time. The hotel is offering me decent business facilities. I’ve made it clear at company headquarters that we’ll keep my presence here under wraps for a while. I don’t want the press getting hold of the story about the will yet. It’s going to become a media frenzy when they do find out.”

“This hotel?” Deidre asked, pointing at the building behind them.

He nodded.

She closed her eyes and he sensed it again, her extreme fatigue, her vulnerability.

“There’s another reason we should spend some time getting to know each other better, Deidre.”

She opened her eyes. He couldn’t see their hue in the dim light emanating from the dashboard, but he knew they were an unusual blue-gray color. He could clearly see the line of her jaw and the delicate shell shape of her ear.

Was she made so perfectly everywhere?

“I’m afraid to ask,” she murmured.

“Lincoln wrote me a letter before he died. He specifically asked me to get to know you better.”

“Why?” she demanded. She leaned toward him, her fatigue seemingly disappearing at the mention of the man she believed to be her father. Her curiosity bordered on hunger. It struck him as understandable, but sad, that she was so desperate for information about Linc. Again, he inhaled her clean, floral feminine scent. His muscles clenched tight in restraint.
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