Matt & Michelle 1: The Fugitive Heir (3 page)

Jonas pondered for a moment. “Okay, what do you suggest we do?”

“Meet us at Matt’s spaceship. It’s where he was going, anyway, and a sealed spaceship is about as safe from attacks and from eavesdroppers as anything we’re likely to find.”

Jonas bestowed one of his rare smiles on the girl. “Good idea. I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Is there anything else?”

“Yes. Call Mom and let her know I’ll be home late.”

“Will do. See you in thirty.”

“Bye, Daddy.”

My eyes flicked back and forth between Michelle and the now-blank vid screen and my mouth dropped open.

Michelle giggled, the business-like bodyguard replaced by a young college coed in the blink of an eye. She reached out and gently pushed my mouth shut.

I blame my next statement on the unsettling events of the previous ten minutes.

“How long has Jonas been your father?”

That brought a long, loud laugh from Michelle.

“All of my life, Matt. That’s usually how these things work.”

I felt the blush rise up my face. God, how could I have said something so stupid to the girl I most wanted to impress?

Michelle reached out to me again and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay, Matt. You’ve had a lot of shocks and surprises tonight. If you ask me, you’re holding up really well.”

She steered into the docks and found a parking spot close to my ship. When we climbed out, she put an arm around me.

“You’re just a guy showing off his spaceship to his new girl, okay?”

I put my arm around Michelle and pulled her close. “Well, if you insist…”

My recent few minutes of sheer terror were all worth it for that short walk to the spaceship. Okay, maybe not entirely worth it, but holding Michelle and feeling the sway of her hips against mine made up for a lot. Inside the spaceship, I actually did show it off to Michelle.

Then Jonas arrived and my life changed forever.

CHAPTER THREE

The Revelation

Michelle opened the airlock when Jonas arrived. My head of security smiled fondly and gave Michelle a peck on the forehead. She kissed his cheek in return. I found the simple, intimate gesture between father and daughter sweet, painfully so. More than a third of my life had passed since I’d had such a moment with my parents.

Jonas eyed Michelle’s short, pleated skirt and bare midriff.

“You wore
that
to a rescue, Michelle?”

Michelle looked my way and rolled her eyes. “No, Daddy, I wore this to a club. Which you called me away from for this rescue.”

“A club is worse! What kind of signals do you think that outfit sends in that setting?”

“Maybe that I like to dance?”

“Do you think that’s the only message the boys at the club picked up, pumpkin?”

I watched and listened in fascination. I’d never seen this side of Jonas. Heck, I’d never even imagined it existed.

“Daddy, I cannot help what a bunch of stuck up, trust fund boys think when they see me. Besides, I dressed conservatively compared to the other girls.” Michelle turned a grin my way. “You should have seen Jayna. She might as well have written ‘slut’ on her forehead.”

“I don’t care what your friends wore, Michelle. The point is-”

“Jayna is
not
my friend.”

“The
point
is that you know you could get called into work at a moment’s notice—like you did tonight. Your clothes must reflect that reality.”

Michelle pointed at her shoes, open-toed with flat heels. “I wore sensible shoes, Daddy. And I’ll bet you Matt’s inheritance that my legs have more range of motion in this skirt than yours do in any pair of pants you own.”

I burst out laughing. “She’s got you there, Jonas. And you’ve got to admit she did a great job rescuing me.”

Michelle bestowed a bright smile on me. “Thank you, Matt.”

My words drew Jonas’s attention away from Michelle’s clothing and onto me. “You’re right on both counts, sir. Now, let me take a look at that ankle.”

Jonas poked and prodded for a moment. “It’s not broken or sprained. I can give you something for the pain, but there’s no need for medical nanites. It will heal by morning.”

I waved away the pain med he offered. “I’m worried about my life, Jonas, not my ankle. And I’m worried about Michelle’s life and your life and the lives of my other bodyguards. So, what’s going on?”

Jonas rose to his feet and started pacing. Since her father needed the meager floor space in the lounge to pace, Michelle came to the couch where I was stretched out. I started to sit up.

“Your ankle should stay elevated, Matt. Just lift your head for a second.”

I did and Michelle slid onto the couch beneath my head. It was uncomfortable, holding my head up like that, but I didn’t say anything. Then Michelle put her hand on my forehead and pushed my head down onto her lap for the second time that night.

Best. Night. Ever.

“You’ve already figured out most of it, Matt. One of the major shareholders, probably a member of the board of directors, wants to stop you from liquidating those shares you’re set to inherit tomorrow. Your well-known tendency to slip away from your bodyguards’ protection gave them hope they could make your death look like random violence.”

“What if I had just stayed holed up in the house until it was time to attend the inheritance appointment?”

“I suspect the attack would have been much more public and much more obvious. And a lot more people would have been endangered.” Jonas stopped pacing. “It took me a couple of days to put all of this together, sir. Had you not slipped out of the house, I’d be having this discussion with you, your aunt, and your uncle right now. Drastic measures are called for, sir.”

That
put a damper on the best night ever, even when Michelle began stroking my head in sympathy.

“So you’re saying I have to give up my dream of finding my parents and announce it to the public?”

“That would be a start, sir, but I’m afraid it’s going to take more than that. To stave off attacks, I strongly recommend that you assign full control of all of your shares to your uncle or some other member of the board.”

“Meaning I couldn’t vote or sell my shares.”

“Yes, sir.”

“For how long?”

“I suggest a minimum of seven years.”

“And if I don’t make the announcement, I die and you and Michelle might get caught in the crossfire?”

“I’m afraid so, sir.”

“That is
so
not fair, Daddy!”

“Life isn’t fair, pumpkin. You know that.”

“Do it.” It came out as a harsh whisper.

“Are you certain, sir? I admit I believe it is necessary, but should you choose otherwise I will abide by your decision.” Jonas’s eyes flicked to Michelle. “I will, of course, take the precaution of removing Michelle from your security detail.”

I felt Michelle draw in a breath to protest her father’s pronouncement. “That won’t be necessary, Jonas. After all, it’s not like I really have any other choice.”

Jonas sighed and shook his head. “No sir, you don’t. Let’s get you home and I’ll get the announcement out to the board and the newsies.”

“Matt should stay clear of his home until the news is out, Daddy. After all, that’s where the assassins would expect to find him.”

Jonas nodded his head slowly, agreeing with his daughter’s assessment. “Where do you suggest I take him, Michelle?”

“Nowhere. Let him spend the night here. At least let him mourn the loss of his dream in the place where he’s most comfortable.”

Jonas thought for a moment. “I suppose I could send for a couple of bodyguards.”

“Matt already has a bodyguard here, Daddy. I’ll stay with him.”

Jonas’ eyebrows climbed to his hairline. In other circumstances, I’d have laughed.

“I’ve got this, Daddy.”

Jonas’s fond smile returned. “I guess you do. Okay, pumpkin, I’ll call once it’s safe for Matt to come out.”

Michelle let her father out and sealed the ship’s airlock. When she returned, Michelle slid back into her place on the couch, once again resting my head in her lap. She met my gaze and I saw her blue eyes were bright with unshed tears.

“I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now, Matt, but holding it in won’t help.”

A single tear spilled from her right eye and rolled down her cheek. With that tear, the dam holding my emotions in check burst.

I buried my head against Michelle and sobbed.

Sometime later, purged of tears and emotion, I fell quiet. Michelle stroked my hair, silently giving comfort and understanding. I wrapped my arms about her waist and gently squeezed, my cheek pressing into her soft stomach.

“Goodbye, Mom. Goodbye, Dad.” My ragged whisper blew across Michelle’s skin.

I rolled my head and looked up at Michelle. Tear tracks coursed down her cheeks and her eyes still shone with sympathy. She smiled and wiped her cheeks.

“Do you feel better, Matt?”

I took stock and realized I did. “Yes. Thanks for being here for me and thanks for understanding.”

“It’s okay, Matt. It’s hard to give up a cherished belief after so long.”

I shook my head. “It’s not a belief, Michelle, and I sure as hell am not giving up on it. I do not simply
believe
my parents are alive. I
know
it like I know your eyes are blue.”

“I don’t understand how, Matt.” Her eyes widened. “Unless there was some kind of attempt to ransom them that no one knows about. Is that it? Has someone been holding them for over seven years, waiting for you to inherit your parents’ fortune so you could pay the ransom?”

“No, there’s never been any attempt to collect a ransom. I’ve known my parents still lived from the first moment we learned they had disappeared. I will know it for as long as they live.”

Michelle shook her head slowly. “That doesn’t make any sense, Matt. How could you possibly know something like that?”

For nearly thirteen years—up until their disappearance—my parents drilled into me that I must never tell anyone this secret. Not even Aunt Tess or Uncle Gunther knew. But I wanted Michelle to understand my certainty. After seven years, I wanted to share my secret with someone. After seven years, I wanted to break my silence. But that meant breaking my word to my parents.

My indecision must have been obvious. Michelle took my head between her hands and turned it so our eyes met.

“You can trust me, Matt. Whatever your secret is, I
will
keep it.” She flashed a reassuring smile. “You never guessed I was one of your bodyguards, so you know I can keep secrets.”

I shut my eyes, afraid to watch Michelle’s face as she absorbed my words.

“Michelle, I… I’m psychic.” Her body stiffened. “I’m not a very strong psychic. I can only sense close family members when they’re nearby and I can do some other little stuff. But I can
always
sense my parents.”

There. I’d shared my secret. It was time to discover if I was an idiot or not.

Seconds as long as hours passed in silence before Michelle spoke. “Can you read my thoughts?”

“No, I’m not a telepath. I can sense a person’s emotions, but only if the emotions are strong and I’m touching the person. The more intimate the contact, the better my read is.” A memory rose, unbidden. “You know, I never doubted my parents’ love because I felt waves of it every time we hugged.”

“Can you read me, Matt?”

I opened my eyes. “Do you want me to try?”

Michelle nodded so I put her hand against my cheek and held it there. I calmed my mind, pushing distracting images out of the way and concentrating on Michelle. The gang members faded away. Jonas faded away. Finally, even my agreement to postpone the search for my parents faded away. The feel of Michelle’s hand on my cheek possessed my conscious mind. My psychic power rose and read her strongest emotion.

Fear
.

I rolled off the couch onto the floor, where I curled up in a ball of absolute misery. I’d lost the chance to search for my parents
and
terrified the girl I’d loved ever since I first met her.

“Matt?” Michelle sounded concerned. Was she worried I’d picked up some deep secret or something?

With a thump, Michelle dropped to the floor next to me. Her hands tried to take mine but I yanked them away.

“What’s wrong, Matt? Why are you acting this way?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I don’t want to
inflict
myself on you, Michelle.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on! I told you I only read strong emotions. Did you think I wouldn’t pick up that emotion?”

“
Which
emotion, Matt?”

“I know you’re scared of me, Michelle. You broadcast fear loud and clear.”

Michelle blew out her breath in exasperation. “Matthew Bernard Connaught, sit up and look at me.”

Her tone of voice reminded me so much of my mother that I found myself obeying without conscious thought. Her blue eyes burned with an intensity I’d never seen before.

“You said intimate contact makes someone easier for you to read?”

“Yes.”

Michelle drew me close and kissed me—and I’m not talking about a simple peck on the lips. The kiss was long and sensuous and exactly the kind of kiss I’d always fantasized having with her. Her lips parted and her tongue flicked against mine. I pulled her to me, one hand on the small of her back, the other behind her head.

Michelle broke our lip lock, but stayed close enough that her lips brushed mine when she spoke. “Read me
now
.”

Then her lips met mine again and drew me back into my fantasy kiss. I felt Michelle’s body moving against mine. I tasted her lips. I smelled her perfume. I heard her panting breath. She consumed my senses, driving everything else from my mind. And, just like that, her strongest emotions blazed forth with a brilliance I’d never experienced before.

Michelle wasn’t afraid
of
me. She was afraid
for
me. I broke the kiss and stared at her in wonder.