The Illegitimate Heirs: Caleb, Nick & Hunter: Engagement between Enemies

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Engagement Between Enemies (#ulink_eeb060ec-5ac6-5a1f-a820-bc8eb3f74b44)

Kathie DeNosky

This book is dedicated with deepest appreciation to Kristi Gold, Roxann Delaney, Mary Gardner and my editor, Tina Colombo. Without their encouragement and unwavering support, this book would not have been possible.

Prologue (#ulink_195f31d6-af33-5026-99dc-05357d99092d)

Caleb Walker sat at the small round table in the corner of a downtown Wichita, Kansas, hotel bar, staring at the two men seated across from him. Not even the blond waitress giving him an interested smile and the fact that he hadn’t had sex in a month of Sundays diverted his attention from the matter at hand.

All of his life, he’d been a man without siblings and with no idea who his father was. But not more than an hour ago, in a plush executive office at the corporate headquarters of Emerald, Inc., all that had changed. Caleb had learned that his father was none other than globe-trotting playboy and heir apparent to the Emer-ald, Inc. empire, Owen Larson. The late Owen Larson. Now Caleb was having to come to terms with the fact not only that he knew who his father was, but that the man had gone and gotten himself killed in a boating accident off the coast of France before Caleb had had the chance to confront him for making Caleb’s mother pregnant and leaving her without so much as a byyour-leave. He’d also learned that his grandmother was the indomitable Emerald Larson and that the two men sitting across from him were his half brothers.

“I can’t believe we’ve been under that old bat’s surveillance all of our lives.” A muscle jerked along Hunter O’Banyon’s tanned jaw. “She knew everything there was to know about us and didn’t do a damned thing to fill us in on the big mystery until now.”

“That ‘old bat’ is our grandmother. And I’d say she’s done plenty.” Nick Daniels took a swig from the longnecked bottle in his hand, then set it on the table with a thump. “Hiring P.I.s to report our every move from the time we were out of diapers while keeping us in the dark about it takes balls.”

“The size of watermelons,” Caleb added. His gut still churned with anger that Emerald Larson, founder and CEO of one of the nation’s most successful femaleowned and operated conglomerates, had denied them all the right to know who they were for so long. “I’m having a problem with her blackmailing our mothers with the threat of cutting us out of inheriting any part of Emerald, Inc. just to keep them silent about her worth-less son being the jerk who got them pregnant.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’ll give her this much, the old gal’s a master at manipulation.”

Nick nodded. “I can understand why our moms went along with her. They were hoping to ensure a better life for us. But they paid a hell of a price for it.”

“I don’t give a damn about inheriting any part of Emerald Larson’s little self-made empire.” Hunter shook his head. “Hell will freeze over before I dance to her tune.”

“So you’re going to turn down her offer?” Caleb asked.

If they accepted Emerald’s conditions, they’d each be given one of her companies. She’d assured them there were no strings attached and she wouldn’t interfere with the way they ran the businesses. But Caleb wasn’t fool enough to believe it. It looked like his brothers weren’t either.

“I haven’t flown a chopper in the past five years.” Hunter’s mouth thinned to a menacing line. “What business would I have trying to run an air medevac service?”

“Well, it makes more sense than sending a desk jockey to run a cattle ranch in Wyoming.” Nick’s scowl deepened. “I’ve lived in a condo in St. Louis for the past twelve years. The closest I get to any kind of livestock these days is the Clydesdales when they pull a beer wagon down Market Street during a parade.”

Caleb had to agree that what Emerald Larson was asking them to do was ludicrous. He’d excelled in the business courses he’d taken in high school, but that had been a good number of years ago. He didn’t particularly like the idea of making a fool of himself when it became apparent he was in way over his head.

“Well, how do you think I feel?” He shook his head at the thought of what the old gal had in mind for him. “I’m a Tennessee farmer with nothing more than a high-school education. Emerald couldn’t have come up with anything more ridiculous than me taking over a financial consulting firm.”

Hunter reached for a pretzel from the bowl in the middle of the table. “You can bet that old girl has more up her sleeve than giving us part of Emerald, Inc. out of the goodness of her heart.”

“No doubt about it,” Nick said, nodding.

Caleb wasn’t sure exactly what Emerald Larson had in mind, but he knew just as surely as the sun rose in the east each morning that whatever it was, she’d purposely chosen the business she wanted each of them to run. “It’s my guess she wants us to prove something.”

Nick looked surprised. “Like what? That we don’t know what we’re doing?”

“Beats me. But you can bet Emerald Larson has a reason for everything she does.” Caleb shrugged as he swallowed the last of his beer. “The way I see it, we have two options. We can either turn the old gal down and walk away, making the sacrifices our mothers made to ensure our futures a total waste of time. Or, we can ac-cept Emerald’s offer and show her that she doesn’t know beans from buckshot about who we are and where our talents lie.”

Hunter looked thoughtful. “I kind of like the idea of showing up the high-and-mighty Mrs. Larson.”

“It would serve her right when we all fall on our faces,” Nick said, still looking reluctant.

“But if we’re going to do this, we at least have to give it our best shot.” Caleb stood up and tossed a couple of dollar bills on the table. “It’s not in me to do anything half-assed.”

“Me neither,” the other two said in unison as they rose to their feet and added money to pay for their drinks.

“Then I guess all we have left to do is give Emerald our answer.” Caleb suddenly felt as if he was about to step out onto a tightrope without a safety net.

But as he led the way out of the bar and down the street toward the corporate offices of Emerald, Inc., he couldn’t help but feel a bit of nervous anticipation begin to build. He’d always enjoyed a challenge. And as unbelievable as it was, he was actually looking forward to taking over Skerritt and Crowe Financial Consultants. His only regret was that he didn’t have the education or the slightest idea of how to go about doing the job right.

One (#ulink_ad24b60f-c0e4-5a98-9906-6dbd4150728c)

Approaching the reception desk outside the executive offices of Skerritt and Crowe Financial Consultants, Caleb plastered on the professional smile he’d been practicing for the past week. “I’m here to see A. J. Merrick.”

“Do you have an appointment, sir?” the older, grayhaired receptionist asked as he started toward the doors behind her desk.

“I’m Caleb Walker.” He gave her a conspiratorial wink. “I believe Merrick is expecting me.”

“Hold it right there, Mr. Walton,” she said, rising to block his way.

“Walker.” He frowned. Hadn’t Merrick let the other employees know about his taking over as president of the firm?

The woman shrugged. “Walker, Walton, it doesn’t matter what your name is. You’re not going in there without an appointment.”

Apparently, no one had bothered to inform this woman. “Tell you what—” he glanced at the nameplate on her desk “—Geneva. After I talk with your boss, I promise I’ll come back and introduce myself.”

“My boss is busy and doesn’t want to be disturbed.” Geneva pointed to a row of chairs lining the wall across the room. “If you’ll have a seat, I’ll see if I can work you in.”

At six feet four inches tall, he towered over the woman by at least a foot, but she wasn’t acting the least bit intimidated by it. From the look on her face, she was just as determined to keep him out of the office as he was determined he was going inside.

It was all he could do to keep a straight face. Geneva reminded him of a little banty hen his grandpa used to own—all bluff and ruffled feathers. And if her defiant expression was any indication, he had no doubt that he’d be sitting in the reception area until hell froze over before she picked up the phone and announced his arrival.

“There’s no need to go to all that trouble, Geneva.” Chuckling, he sidestepped the woman as he reached for the polished knob on the mahogany door with A. J. Merrick engraved on a brass plaque. “Take my word for it, Merrick is going to want to meet with me right away.”

“I’ll call security,” Geneva threatened, rushing over to the phone.

“You do that,” Caleb said, nodding. “I’d like to meet with them, too.”

“Oh, you will, buster,” she promised, stabbing her finger at the phone’s keypad.

Without waiting to see if Geneva reached the security desk, Caleb opened the door and stepped into the spacious office. His gaze immediately zeroed in on the young woman seated behind a huge walnut desk in front of a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows.

With her dark auburn hair pulled back in a bun tight enough to make his grandma Walker proud and a pair of oversize black plastic-framed glasses, she looked more like a headmistress at one of those hoity-toity private allgirl schools in Nashville than a modern corporate secretary. And if her disapproving expression was any indication, she was just as unyielding and strict about rules and protocol as one of those overly uptight teachers, too.

But as he sauntered over to stand in front of the desk, he thought he saw a hint of uncertainty about her—a vulnerability that, considering the image she was obviously trying to project, he hadn’t expected. “Excuse me. I’m looking for A. J. Merrick.”

“Do you have business here?” she asked, her voice cool enough to freeze ice.