Claiming Her Billion-Dollar Birthright (8 page)

“From what everyone says, I'm not looking forward to meeting him.”

“Blake's all right,” Christian told her, not wanting her to be anxious over the last Jarrod hurdle she had to face. “He's not really happy with the situation, but he knows none of this is your fault.”

She blew out a breath. “What do you think, Christian? You're the objective observer in all this. Do you think this is going to work out?”

“You being here, you mean?” When she nodded, he walked closer to her. “Yes, I do. You're already making a place for yourself here. Your sister likes you. Your brothers will come around.”

Erica shook her head and her light brown hair lifted from her shoulders, then fell back again in soft waves. Christian curled his hands into fists to keep from reaching for it. To keep from threading his fingers through that mass and turning her head toward his—

“Why are you on my side in this?” Erica asked. “Melissa says you've known the family since you were a kid. And you were Don's personal attorney. I'd think that would make you more prejudiced in their favor rather than mine.”

He backed up a step, leaned against the corner of his desk and said, “Don Jarrod was a hard man to know. He helped me when I was a teenager. Offered me a job here when I got out of law school. But,” he added, “that
said, I don't owe him or his memory my soul. Just the best job I can do. My allegiances are my own.”

She tipped her head to one side and looked up at him. “And you've decided to be my ally.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

“Shouldn't I?”

He shrugged, though it cost him. He wanted her to trust him, but couldn't say that he trusted himself around her. He wanted more than friendship or an alliance with her. But if he took more, he'd risk everything he'd already built.

“Let's just say that whatever I owe the Jarrods, I owe myself more. So I'm on your side because I've had a hand in throwing your life off kilter.”

“So you feel responsible? You don't have to,” she told him. “Like I said earlier, I can take care of myself.”

“I've noticed,” he said, then forced a smile. “Let's get out of here. How about a tour of the grounds?”

“I'd like that,” she said and took the arm he offered before walking with him out of the office and the hotel.

 

They walked for what felt like miles.

Erica was overwhelmed with everything. She was on sensory overload. Jarrod Ridge had to be the most beautiful place she'd ever been and it was staggering to realize that she was a part of the legacy that had built it.

The resort was like a small town in and of itself.
Narrow walkways, cement pathways bordered by vibrant flower beds, wound past tiny bungalows and lavish cabins. Christian had stopped by his own home to give her a quick tour and Erica had loved everything about it. From the honey-colored log walls to the braided rugs on the polished wood floors to the overstuffed, brown leather furniture.

He had a river stone fireplace big enough to stand up in and the huge windows in his kitchen overlooked the forest and the mountain beyond. She could imagine stepping out onto the back porch, sitting in one of the rocking chairs there and sipping a morning cup of coffee as she watched the world wake up.

Seeing his home had given her more insights into Christian the man and she relished them. He was neat, but not to the point of craziness. He had actual pots and pans in his kitchen, which meant he at least tried to cook occasionally rather than subsisting on room service or takeout. He had framed family photos hanging on his wall and seeing him as a younger man with one arm thrown across his mother's shoulders told her that he was someone to whom family meant a lot. All good things. And all of those things combined made him even more intriguing to Erica.

When they left his house, Erica was more captivated by him than she had been before. She took his arm as he led her on through the resort. He pointed out the cabins where Gavin and Melissa lived. He'd shown her the gift shops, the jewelers, the on-site bakery and the ice cream parlor. He'd taken her past the pools—both
the indoor and outdoor, not to mention the pool built just for kids.

Guests in swimsuits, tennis gear and even riding outfits streamed over the property in a never-ending flood of humanity. Children raced each other across manicured lawns and a couple of elderly guests sat on a padded iron bench beneath a gorgeous cluster of aspen trees.

The sun was out, the sky was blue and she honestly felt as though she'd stepped into an alternate world. Everything was almost too perfect.

Including the man at her side. He wasn't wearing a suit and tie, just black jeans, a white, long-sleeved shirt open at the throat and a pair of black boots that looked as though they had seen a lot of wear. He looked handsome in a well-cut suit, but Erica thought he looked even more so in casual clothes. It was then a person realized that his personal power wasn't shaped by any outward appearance—not his clothing, his car or his job—but by his own innate strength.

And that, Erica thought, was about the sexiest thing in the world.

She loved how people knew him. Smiled, waved, stopped to speak to him as they walked. He introduced her to managers and housemaids, all with respect and deference. He treated everyone the same and she found that sexy as hell, too. She'd been raised by a man who believed in the perception of status. Walter would never have introduced a friend of his to a maid—but Christian was a different sort of man. The kind she'd been looking for before her life turned upside down.

Now, she had to wonder if part of her attraction for him wasn't because he was the only familiar face around her. But no, even as she considered that, she put it aside. There was much more to what she was feeling for Christian Hanford.

“So what do you think?”

She looked up at him and loved how the wind had ruffled his short dark hair onto his forehead. She just managed to catch herself from reaching up and pushing it back. “Um,” she said, gathering up her scattered thoughts, “I hate to keep using the word
amazing….
”

He grinned, and her breath locked in her lungs. Seriously, when the man flashed an unguarded smile, he was a danger to any woman with eyes.

He pointed off in the distance. “The stables are down there, alongside a paddock, and there are riding trails through the woods. Tennis courts are over there and the golf course is back at the opposite end of the resort.”

She laughed to herself. “It's like a little city all in itself.”

“Exactly how Don saw it, too,” Christian said. “We've even got a small clinic on site. Joel Remy runs it. He's got a nurse who helps out and they can take care of any minor situations the guests might have. Of course, anything more serious is treated at the hospital in Aspen.”

“Our own medical staff. Wow.” She turned from him and stared out at the surrounding cabins and lodges.

“That's the first time you've said ‘our' about this place,” he commented. “Starting to feel more connected?”

She looked back at him. “I guess I am. It's a little nerve-racking, but I'm excited about it, too, you know?”

“I do,” he said, then looked around as she had, as if he were seeing it for the first time through her eyes. Finally, he turned his gaze back on her. “You'll make your place here, Erica.”

“Yeah,” she said, giving him a smile that lit up her eyes. “I will.”

He nodded as if he sensed her commitment, and said, “A long time ago, I decided to make this my place. To carve out my own slice of Jarrod Ridge.”

“Why? I mean, what drove you to want this?” She asked the question quietly, not wanting to disturb the intimacy of the moment. Despite the fact that they were surrounded on all sides by happy, chattering guests, it felt as though they were alone, just the two of them.

He smiled to himself and tucked his hands into his jeans pockets. “I told you I grew up here. Well, in Aspen.”

She nodded but didn't say anything, encouraging him silently to continue.

“My first job was as a busboy in the main restaurant in the Manor.” He glanced back over his shoulder at the palatial mansion, its rose brick walls nearly radiant in the bold, summer sunshine. “I loved it. Well, not working in the restaurant, but being here. Being a part of it all.” He paused, as though he were gathering up stray thoughts and straightening them out. “My dad died when I was three. My mom worked constantly, but it was hard, you know?”

Erica nodded, caught up in the soft cadence of his words, the faraway look in his eyes.

“Anyway…” He took a long breath and released it again. “I knew what I wanted. I wanted to belong at a place like this. So I worked my ass off in school, got a scholarship and eventually, with Don's help, went to law school.”

“Why did he help?” she asked, curious now about the father she would never know.

“To tell you the truth, I don't really know,” he admitted with a half smile. “There was never any telling what Don would do or why. I like to think he saw something in me he thought would work well here. That he knew I'd do the job for him.”

“Sounds like that's exactly what he thought,” she told him.

Christian sent her a glance. “Maybe. I'll never know for sure. I do know that he helped shape me into the kind of lawyer I am. And I helped him reshape this place into the growth it's enjoying now.”

“Then you did what you set out to do,” Erica said. “Made a place for yourself. Ensured that you belong here.”

“Yeah, I did. And I owed Don a lot—which,” he added wryly, “he never let me forget.”

“What's that mean?” It didn't sound good and by the look on his face, Christian wasn't happy about whatever he was going to tell her.

“It means, that in my contract with the resort, Don laid it out just the way he wanted it. Hell, he even made
sure the codicil was in his will, just in case I needed reminding.”

“What?” A curl of apprehension settled in the pit of her stomach. Erica had the distinct feeling she wasn't going to like what he was about to say.

Christian locked his gaze with hers. “For me to keep my invested shares in Jarrod Ridge, I'm to remain loyal to the business.”

“That doesn't sound so bad.”

“Then there's the added warning to stay away from his daughters.”

“What?” Erica shook her head as if she hadn't heard him right. “Say that again.”

Christian huffed out a breath. “He didn't put it in those words, exactly, but the meaning's clear enough. I might be a big-time, rich lawyer now, but Don still saw me as the poor kid looking for a chance. And he didn't want that kid anywhere near his daughters. Either of them. Bottom line, Erica? You're off-limits.”

“B
ut that's ridiculous,” Erica argued, astounded at this turn of events.

He shrugged. “That's Don.”

“It's medieval.” She took a step away from him, turned around and came right back. Looking up into his chocolate eyes, Erica felt that bone-deep hum she always did when she was around him. She knew he felt it, too. She could see desire in his eyes, feel heat rippling off him in thick waves. Erica looked up at him. “Why are you telling me this?”

“You know why,” he said and his eyes darkened even as his mouth tightened into a hard line. “Because there's something between us.”

“So you want to stop it.”

“Didn't say I wanted to,” he corrected with a shake
of his head. “But this is my life. One I worked damn hard for.”

“That's right,” she countered. “
Your
life. And
mine.
Don Jarrod has nothing to do with this.”

He snorted a laugh. “The fact that you can say that and mean it just goes to prove you didn't know him.”

“No, I didn't. But even if I had, I wouldn't let him make my decisions for me,” she snapped. Anger shot through her and she let her words ride the wave of it. “I didn't let Walter decide whether I'd move here or not. I won't let Don decide who I become involved with or not.”

“You think I like this?” he asked, reaching out to grab hold of her shoulders. “Do you think I like dancing to Don's tune? I don't. It goes against everything that's in me.”

“Then why?”

“My mom worked hard her whole life,” he said tightly. “Thanks to my work here, my shares of Jarrod Ridge, she'll never have to work again. I bought her a condo in Orlando. She has friends. She plays golf. She gets her hair done in a fancy salon and she buys her clothes at the best boutiques in town. She takes cruises with her friends and she has
fun
for the first time in her life.”

Her heart twisted in her chest as everything nebulous that she'd felt for him over the last several days solidified into something bigger. More important. Staring up into his eyes, she saw the kind of man she used to hope she'd meet. The kind who saw loyalty as a virtue. The kind who took care of his family no matter the cost to
himself. The kind who put his own needs last behind everyone else in his life who mattered.

“No matter what I feel for you, or might feel for you,” Christian said, “I won't take that away from her.”

“I wouldn't ask you to.”

“So you understand that this can't go anywhere.”

“No,” she said, “I don't. But I understand why you believe that.”

He hissed in a breath, grabbed her hand and said, “Come with me.”

She refused to move when he would have tugged her along. “Where?”

“We need to talk this out and…I want to show you something.” His gaze searched hers for a long moment until he said, “Please.”

Erica nodded and went with him, her fingers curled tightly around his. He led her off the concrete path and down a short slope that ran behind a short row of shops. In the distance, the forest loomed, green and filled with shadows, and he was walking right for it.

“Where are we going?” She held on to his hand and quietly enjoyed the rush of heat that linked them together.

“Thought I'd show you something here that Don Jarrod had nothing to do with building.”

“You're kidding, right?” she asked as she ran to keep up with him. “I thought this was completely his.”

“Most of it,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder. “But this part was here first.”

He led her through the trees, his steps sure as he continued on, deeper into the cool gloom. The farther
they got from the resort, the quieter it became. Erica heard birds high overhead and from a distance, there was a muted roar of sound that got louder and louder as they approached.

Erica looked back over her shoulder and couldn't see the resort at all. The trees were so thick it was as if a dark green wall had been erected between them and the grounds of Jarrod Ridge.

When Christian at last came to a stop and released her hand, she was simply staggered by the beauty around her. A river rushed past them, growling and roaring over stones in its path. Lined on either side by thick stands of trees, and a narrow ribbon of rock and sand, the water was frothy and beautiful and completely untouched. It was an oasis of privacy in a sea of people and Erica loved it.

She walked closer to the water's edge, her sandals sinking and sliding on the sand. She felt the spray on her face as a soft wind kicked up, rattling the leaves of the trees until they sounded like whispered conversations.

“This was my spot when I was a kid,” Christian said softly as he came up behind her. “When I needed to think, when things got bad, I came here and everything felt…all right again.”

“I can see why,” she said and wondered how anyone could be sad or depressed if they had somewhere so beautiful to go. She looked at him and asked, “And how many women have you brought here, I wonder?”

“Counting you?” he asked, gaze fixed on hers with
an intensity that shot a lick of flame through her center. “Just one.”

“Why did you bring me?” she asked, her voice as breathless as she felt. “After everything you told me about Don and the will and everything…why did you bring me here?”

“Because,” he admitted, his gaze moving over her face like a caress, “I had to.”

Then he pulled her in close and kissed her.

 

He took her mouth with a hunger he'd never known before. Instantly, her lips parted, allowing him access, welcoming him into her warmth. He'd known, somewhere deep inside him that it would be like this with her. Known that the pulse of electricity between them would erupt into a shower of light and heat the moment he got close enough to her.

With a groan, he surrendered himself to the sensations pouring through him, refusing to think about anything beyond this moment. This kiss.

This taste of her that was filling cold, dark corners within him.

Their tongues tangled together, breath mingled and her soft sighs gave him all the encouragement he could have wanted. Sweeping one hand down her back, he traced her curves and wished he could peel her out of the dark red shirt she wore. Instead, he settled for tugging the hem of her blouse free of her crisp, white linen shorts and then slid the palm of his hand across her bare skin. She shivered as his fingers caressed the line of her spine, up and down and then up again. He
needed the feel of her as badly as he needed her taste in his mouth.

Her arms came up and wrapped around his neck as she leaned into him. Her breasts flattened against his chest and he felt the hard points of her nipples pushing into him. He groaned again, felt his body go hard and ready and ground his hips against hers, looking for ease, but only managing to torture them both.

Christian kept his mouth on hers as he lifted her off her feet and deepened the kiss further. Slower, longer, hotter, he wanted all, wanted everything. For days now, his mind, his body had been clamoring for just this and now that he had his hands on her, his mouth on her, he didn't want it to end.

The roar of the river was right behind them, the insistent rush of it playing counterpoint to the thudding of his own heartbeat. When he finally tore his mouth from hers and dragged in a ragged breath, she smiled up at him.

“So much for medievalism.”

His breath strangling in his lungs, he nodded. “I've never had to work so hard to stay within the rules. But I've wanted to taste you since the moment we met.”

“Good to know,” Erica said, moving one hand to cup his cheek in her palm. “I felt the same way. I still do. I want you, Christian.”

His body tightened even further and he wouldn't have thought that possible.

“You're not making this any easier,” he said, setting her back on her feet, keeping his arms around her, one hand on her bare back.

“I'm glad. It shouldn't be easy. It should be damned hard to walk away from whatever it is that's between us.”

“It is. That's why I brought you here. I need to have you to myself. If only for today.”

“And that would be enough for you?”

“No,” he admitted, sliding both hands under her shirt now, moving over her skin to cup her breasts over the lacy cups of her bra.

She gulped an unsteady breath.

Through the lace, his thumbs and forefingers toyed with her nipples, eliciting another soft moan from her. “I've thought about tasting you, touching you. I've dreamed of having you alone and under me, over me.”

“Oh, my…”

Slowly, he moved his hands until he reached the waistband of her shorts. She took a shallow breath as he deftly undid the snap and zipper.

Her gaze locked with his and Christian couldn't have looked away if it had meant his life. Suddenly the entire world, or at least all he wanted to know of it was there, in her amber-colored eyes.

“I need to touch you,” he whispered, his voice almost lost in the thunder of the swift-moving river.

“Yes,” she said, leaning toward him again, giving him all the welcome he needed.

He snaked one arm around her waist while his other hand dipped down, over her belly, beneath the thin elastic band of her panties. Then lower still, inch by glorious inch, past the tight curls at the juncture of
her thighs. She gasped and stiffened, holding herself perfectly still as his fingers smoothed over her heat.

A low-throated groan slid from him as he felt her wet warmth and knew it was all for him. That she wanted him as desperately as he did her.

Then she jolted in his arms and a tiny, want-filled sigh slid from her lips. Her eyes closed as he dipped his hand lower still.

He touched, he caressed, he explored her delicate folds, learning her, learning what pleased her, what sent her soaring. He watched her face as he took her and her every sigh fed the flames of his own desire. He claimed her with a slick stroke across that single bud at the heart of her. That one spot that was the most sensitized and she trembled in his arms.

As sunlight played down around them and the world went about its business, Christian took Erica on a fast ride to pleasure. His fingers deft, he drove her relentlessly until she whimpered and pleaded his name on sighs torn from her throat. Her hips rocked into his hand as she sought release only he could give her. She parted her thighs wider, hoping he would take more, silently offering the invitation.

And he did. Dipping his head to the line of her throat, his lips and teeth left a trail of flames along her skin as he dipped first one finger and then another deep into her heat.

“Oh, Christian!” She swayed against him, but then held still as if afraid he'd stop.

He wouldn't. The feel of her beneath his hands was magic. Everything he'd dreamed and more. He wanted
to lay her down and take her body with his completely, right here, on the soft, warm grass under the shelter of the trees. But he wouldn't. Couldn't risk someone stumbling across them. So he would settle for this stolen moment. This one instant when the two of them were alone and nothing was more important than the next sigh.

He took her higher, his fingers moving over her most tender flesh. She gasped, she sighed, she shivered against him and still he pushed her on, dragging out the sensations, taking her to the edge and then drawing her back. Lifting his head, he looked down at her and she opened her eyes as if needing to see him as tension coiled tighter and tighter within.

“Let go,” he whispered, bending to brush her mouth with his. “Let go and come for me now.”

Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt and clung to his shoulders as if she were half-afraid she would slide off the edge of the world.

“Christian…” His name came on a breath as she trembled against him.

His thumb caressed her again and then she shattered in his arms. Her body quaked and shivered, her eyes slid closed. She held on to him as pleasure rippled through her again and again until finally, the last waves died away and she was left nearly boneless.

He held her closer, wrapped both arms around her middle and held her pressed tightly to him. His own heartbeat was crashing in his chest and matched hers beat for beat. This was so much more than he had
thought it would be. He felt so much more than he'd expected.

Somehow, he had thought that touching her would bring him satisfaction. That having her in his arms, sighing his name, would ease the need that had been gnawing at him for days. But it hadn't. If anything, that need was sharper now, clawing at his insides, demanding more. Demanding all.

Christian's head fell back and he stared at the sky as he realized that something incredible had just happened. Something life-changing.

But the question was, did he want his life changed—and was it too late to stop it?

 

For the next couple of days, Erica hardly saw Christian, but she almost didn't have time to notice. Her new life was racing straight ahead and she was forced to run just to keep up. There was a lot of work still to be done to prepare for the opening of the gala and she was working at a disadvantage, since she was coming in at the tail end. She had to catch up with Trevor's plans, and with the marketing scheme he'd devised and already had in motion.

Working with Trevor was more fun than she'd expected it to be. She knew about PR. How to market a product so that a customer would be not only slavering to have it, but instantly convinced to buy it. Working the ins and outs of a gala as big and splashy as the Jarrod Ridge affair was, at its heart, no different. There were posters to see to, artistic signs, menus for some of the
out-of-town vendors and professionally shot photos, showing impossibly perfect people at play.

Jarrod Ridge was about to become the center of the food and wine industry for several weeks and Erica was right in the thick of it.