The Heir Read online

  Then he settled between her thighs.

  Her dark eyes met his, her cheeks still flushed and her lips glistening. He couldn’t resist kissing her as he edged his way inside her.

  She felt incredible.

  So amazing he fought the urge to sink into her over and over again. He didn’t want to rush her while she was still adjusting. He breathed through the need. Waiting.

  “You okay?” He stroked a hand through her hair, let his thumb play over the fullness of her mouth.

  “Good.” She nodded, moving her hips as if to test the fit. “Really good.”

  Her sexy swivel was nearly his undoing. With pleasure, he returned the favor, working his hips. Taking what she offered. She was generous. Uninhibited. Passionate.

  And he wondered if he could ever get enough.

  The thought pulled him up short for a moment, but he shoved it away from him fast, needing to focus on Nicole. On her needs. Her wants. Her gorgeous body.

  He rolled her on top of him, watching her, learning what she liked and how she liked it. But too soon, he felt his own release, too strong to hold back anymore. Reaching between them, he teased a touch over her. Once. Twice.

  She stilled the third time, her body arching hard against him before she came with a soft, sweet cry. He let himself follow her, his shout drowning out hers until he was pretty sure he forgot his own name for a little while.

  His breath rushed out in harsh pants, everything in him drained. Rolling to his side, he skimmed a hand through her hair.

  Replete for the moment, he held her in his arms. He pulled the duvet over them to keep her warm, hoping what they’d just done didn’t sabotage the working relationship they needed to have if they were going to find out the truth about her nephew.

  About Zach.

  At the thought, the temperature in the room dropped a few more degrees. A pit opened in his stomach. If Zach proved to be the father of Nicole’s nephew, Desmond would want to maintain some kind of relationship with her in order to ensure the boy had everything he needed. What if he’d just impaired his chances of doing so by acting on the attraction? He stilled, the first shadow of guilt creeping over him. He couldn’t afford to alienate Nicole. But hell, he couldn’t afford to let her think this thing between them was more than—

  “Don’t go there,” Nicole said quietly, stirring beside him. “Whatever you’re thinking right now...don’t. Don’t worry about it.”

  He realized she’d been watching him. And damn it, he was usually better at concealing his thoughts. Regret for whatever she’d seen reflected in his face made him want to fix it. He cleared his throat and tried to pull his thoughts together.

  “I was only thinking we should—”

  She covered his lips with her fingers.

  “We should eat.” She sat up, releasing his mouth to clutch the duvet to her chest as she went. “Shouldn’t we?”

  Clearly, she didn’t want to have a discussion about what had just happened.

  He wished they’d met under any other circumstances so that they could not think about the consequences and simply enjoy each other over and over through the night. But he steeled himself, knowing that wasn’t an option.

  “Or we could discuss the monumental shift that just happened when we need to work together this week,” he reminded her dryly. He switched on a small lamp near the bed, the low-wattage bulb still making him blink. “It’s bound to change the dynamics between us.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. When she reopened them, she met his gaze head-on. “Food first. Awkward conversation second. I’m too hungry to tackle uncomfortable subjects.”

  Was it wrong to table the discussion? But he understood about distracting hungers all too well. Or maybe he was ready for any excuse to delay talking about the inevitable—about why this attraction between them could never go any further.

  She hurried to pull on her clothes again, and knowing she probably was battling possible regrets, he tried not to enjoy the view.

  Tried.

  When she was done, he pushed himself out of bed, guessing by her hasty retreat that he wasn’t going to talk her into spending the night with him. Repeating what had just happened a few more times before dawn broke. Which was as it should be, no matter how much he wished otherwise.

  He understood her distress. He couldn’t deny having some of his own based on the difficult quest they needed to undertake together. As long as they both understood whatever was happening between them was temporary, they’d be fine. Because regretting what had just happened was impossible when he was already craving the chance to be with her again.

  * * *

  Nicole guessed the food was good, but she barely tasted anything in the aftermath of what had just happened in that bed. The incredible sex had been a revelation. The aftermath? She’d never forget the dark clouds that had filled Desmond’s eyes afterward. She didn’t know what he’d been thinking, exactly, but it had obviously been some form of “I’ve made a huge mistake” based on the furrow that had deepened between his eyes. The haunted expression in his gaze.

  But for now, she could regroup while they ate.

  Thankfully, Desmond had served them both, unwrapping dishes so she could expend her mental energies on pulling her thoughts back together. They sat side by side at counter stools in front of the narrow bar separating the tree house’s living area from the small kitchen. Desmond, in deference to her wish to delay the inevitable discussion of what had just happened, made small talk about the ranch and its eco-friendly mission.

  Nicole, in the meantime, absently stacked apple slices on her plate while wondering how to recover her footing in this relationship. She’d never experienced anything like what she and Desmond had shared. The intimate encounters that she’d had in the past had either been awkward or mildly enjoyable. There hadn’t been anything close to urgent need, insatiable passion or a chemistry so potent it stole her breath. That she should feel all those things with Desmond, a man she had no reason to trust and every reason to be wary of, was unaccountable.

  The situation made zero practical sense. She’d never thought of herself as the kind of woman who could just...combust like that. She could only attribute it to the stress she’d been under these last months since her sister’s death. Her own grief had shaken her to her core. But her father had been—remained—inconsolable, and Matthew had needed a parent. So there hadn’t been time to deal with her grief—she’d just had to push through.

  Could that suppressed stress account for her over-the-top reaction to Desmond? Still too aware of him beside her, she considered the possibility while staring out a window at the graceful limbs of the maple trees that braced the cabin in the sky.

  “Desmond.” She interrupted his polite observations about the wildlife resurgence around Mesa Falls, needing to get the worst of the awkward conversation over. “I know that what happened today can’t happen again.” She congratulated herself for how steady her voice sounded despite the anxiety on the inside. “You don’t have to worry that I’ll have the wrong impression.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want it to happen again. Hell, if it was up to me, we’d—” His gray gaze roamed over her in a way that turned up the heat all over again. But he seemed to call back whatever he was going to say with an effort, shuttering the hunger in his eyes. “I just didn’t want to give you the wrong idea about what it meant.”

  The hurt of that particular phrasing was sharp. And it pierced her far deeper than it should have. But she nodded, hoping he hadn’t seen her flinch.

  “I won’t misunderstand,” she assured him. Then, with an effort, she steered the conversation away from that land mine of them sleeping together. “Can I ask you a question about something unrelated?”

  Hoping she appeared unaffected, she picked up a knife to spread a mild goat cheese onto a baguette slice. If she wanted any hope of redirect
ing her thoughts from their combustible chemistry and the emotional fallout of the aftermath, she needed to think of something besides how his touch had elicited the hottest moments of her life.

  “Of course.” He watched her, his gaze as sharp as ever.

  “Earlier, when we were in the barn with the horses, you mentioned that Mesa Falls was built as a way to remember your friend Zach.” At the time, she’d been too indignant at the prospect of the Mesa Falls partners flexing their financial weight to increase their say over Matthew’s life to really look beyond the surface of the comment.

  “What of it?” Desmond pushed back from the counter in his chair, his green Henley still lightly wrinkled where she’d fisted the fabric to draw him closer.

  The memory of how he’d made her feel warmed her skin all over, although the realization that it couldn’t happen again cooled her off again.

  “Why Mesa Falls?” she asked in a rush, needing to return to her real reason for being here—unraveling the mystery of Matthew’s father. “Did Zach like Montana? I’m just wondering why you chose this place when you all went to school in California.”

  Desmond refilled his water glass from the bottle before he answered.

  “Two reasons. First, Zach liked Thoreau’s book about life in the woods, and he talked about doing something like that. Getting a remote cabin and living away from everyone for a while.” The words were so halting that she wondered if it was still hard for him to talk about his friend. “And also because he loved horses. The last trip we all took together, we were on horseback.”

  Nicole tried to remember what he’d told her about his friend’s death. When Desmond mentioned Zach the first time, she’d been preoccupied with the potential connection to Mattie. “He died in a cliff-jumping accident?”

  A quick flash of emotion darted through his eyes before it was gone again. This time she didn’t question if talking about his friend hurt, because clearly it did. But then, she knew she’d never get over the hole left in her since Lana’s passing.

  “Zach died during that last horseback riding trip. He jumped into a river from a well-known local spot. But it had rained the night before, and the water level was too high.” Desmond stared without seeing, lost in a memory. “He’d been upset that weekend, but we didn’t know why. He had a rough past, so we all assumed it had something to do with that.”

  An awful thought occurred to her. “You don’t think he could have been upset because—”

  “Because he’d just found out Lana was pregnant?” Desmond shook his head, not in denial so much as despair. “Believe me, I’ve been weighing that possibility myself. No doubt it would be upsetting news for any teenager, especially if it meant an illicit relationship with a teacher was going to come to light.”

  Her appetite fled, and she shoved aside her plate. “It can’t have happened like that. If Zach jumped to his death right after Lana informed him of the pregnancy, she would have been devastated. She never would have been able to keep the news to herself—”

  “She wouldn’t have known.” Desmond sounded so sure of that point. “I didn’t remember when she’d left teaching, but you said it was over Thanksgiving Break. That was the same time Zach died. And Dowdon kept the news of his death out of the papers for weeks. Even then, it was only a death notice with no reference to the school.”

  “She moved to Oregon. She probably wouldn’t have seen it anyhow.” Her belly knotted at the thought of her sister’s affair. She’d always assumed Lana’s boyfriend had rejected her, but if Zach was Matthew’s father, the circumstances had been so much different than she’d imagined. It would make sense that Lana never admitted what had happened. “I’m surprised she wouldn’t have tried getting in touch with him after Matthew was born. Or maybe she did...”

  She trailed off, trying to recreate what could have happened. Feeling like she’d never known Lana at all. How would Matthew feel to learn something like this about his mother—that she’d had an affair with a student? “We’re only just guessing that Zach knew about the pregnancy. She also could have broken things off with him without telling him about the baby, to protect them both from scandal. A breakup could also account for why he was upset that weekend.” His jaw flexed as he began to wrap up the leftover food and clear the dishes they’d used.

  She couldn’t deny that sounded plausible. “Possibly. Maybe finding out she was pregnant made her come to her senses about what she was doing. She had to know that kind of relationship was wholly inappropriate. Not to mention illegal.”

  “If it even happened,” he reminded her, tucking the food back into the insulated bag. “That’s another big if, since we still can’t be sure Zach is Mattie’s father.”

  The frustration of the unanswered questions was evident in his voice. For the first time, Nicole began to see why Desmond needed to uncover the truth about Matthew’s father, too. Clearly, Lana’s pregnancy had significant implications for someone he’d cared about.

  “Maybe meeting with your friends in a couple of hours will help.” She found herself wanting to reassure him even though she had a lot of worries of her own.

  She told herself that was just natural human empathy, but as they packed for the trip back to the ranch, she couldn’t help but wonder if her need to comfort Desmond was part of the emotional fallout of getting close to him today.

  “I hope so.” His words were brusque, and something about his tone told her the subject was closed as he hefted the bag on his shoulder and passed her her jacket. “But before we go to dinner, I just want you to know that I’ve never believed Zach jumped to end his life.”

  Sliding her arms into the outerwear, Nicole followed him from the tree house. Any relief that she might have felt over avoiding an awkward conversation about where they stood since sleeping together was mitigated by the troubling new information about Zach Eldridge and her sister.

  She’d almost reached the door when a small framed photo near the exit caught her eye. She hadn’t noticed it on their way in.

  “Desmond?” The image stopped her in her tracks. She reached up to trace the wavy line of a horse’s mane behind protective glass.

  Ahead of her, he stepped back into the tree house, sealing off the blast of cold air from outside.

  “What’s this?” Wary excitement teased the back of her brain, even though she wasn’t sure what it meant. “Where did you get this?”

  “It’s one of Zach’s sketches.” He stood shoulder to shoulder with her, his nearness stirring her. “If it looks familiar, it might be because Alec Jacobsen, one of our partners, uses a stylized version in a popular video game he designed—”

  He stopped himself, probably because she was already shaking her head.

  “I have almost this same exact sketch at home.” She’d never played a video game in her life, so she hadn’t seen it there. “It belonged to my sister.”

  Seven

  “You look like you could use a drink, mate,” Gage Striker observed as he refilled Desmond’s tumbler.

  A drink? Desmond seriously doubted chugging the whole decanter of their host’s best bourbon would take the edge off this evening. He’d brought Nicole to Miles Rivera’s house for dinner with a few of his partners and their significant others. In theory, it should have been less tense than the last few meetings of the Mesa Falls partners since it was more of a social occasion. There had been less media focus on the ranch in the weeks since Vivian Stephens’s arrest, plus the public was content with the explanation about Alonzo Salazar’s book profits going toward humanitarian efforts.

  Tonight, no one was looking over their shoulders, so they could relax. Jonah Norlander was back in Tahoe with his wife and daughter. Alec Jacobsen was globetrotting to promote one of his new games. But the rest of them were here. Dinner had been pleasant enough while they’d been making small talk. Gage’s fiancée, Elena Rollins, had made a visible effort to put Nicole at
ease, comparing notes with her about some of the more remote areas of Southern California they’d both visited.

  Desmond had been intrigued to learn more about the redheaded bombshell who’d rocked his world only a few hours before, but he’d been forced to quit eavesdropping at that point to respond to something one of his partners had asked. Now, the group had relocated to the billiards room downstairs. The younger of the Rivera brothers—Weston—had challenged Miles to a round of eight-ball. Desmond sat at the sleek mahogany bar behind the game table while the four women made themselves comfortable on the leather sectional that wrapped the opposite corner of the room.

  From his vantage point at the bar, Desmond could see Nicole peering at something Chiara Campagna showed her on her phone. A red wave slid forward over Nicole’s shoulder as she leaned forward, her simple emerald-colored sheath dress hugging her curves the way he wanted to. Lost in thought about the dress and—damn—the curves, it took him a minute to register Gage’s snicker from the bar stool near him.

  “I’ll take that as a ‘Yes, I’ll have a double.’” Accordingly, his hulking New Zealander friend splashed more bourbon into Desmond’s tumbler before returning the decanter to the tray on the bar. “Care to explain why you can’t tear your eyes away from our guest long enough to form coherent sentences?”

  Desmond’s response was a string of very coherent expletives that only increased Gage’s amusement. Miles turned up the volume on the surround-sound speakers playing country music while Weston took the opening break and called his first shot.

  Gage tucked a boot heel around the footrest of his bar stool as he straightened in his seat. “Hey, I’m only pointing out what’s obvious to all your friends. Something’s going on between you and Nicole Cruz, and it’s more than just the mystery of her sister’s son. The weird vibe was there from the moment you two entered the house before dinner.” Gage lowered his voice as he raised his glass in front of his lips like a shield. “And when I say weird vibe, I mean the attraction is evident, so don’t bother to deny it.”