Guarding the Heiress. Debra Webb
He looked surprised, but quickly recovered. “Of course.” He stepped back. “Come in.”
Eddi glanced around the room as the door closed behind her. A seating area with a small television was arranged at one end of the room and backlit by two double windows. On the opposite side of the room a queen-size bed flanked by tables and a lovely bureau filled the space. Between a homemade quilt on the bed and lacy curtains on the windows, the place looked downright comfortable with lots of homey touches. The perfect foil for a man who looked every bit the international spy the ladies in the Club had deemed him to be.
“Please have a seat,” the man suggested with a wave of his hand toward the overstuffed chairs arranged neatly around a small table.
The bottom abruptly dropped out of Eddi’s stomach. Her knees went weak once more. The fire that had sent her barging over here died like the hot coals of a family barbecue beneath an unexpected summer rain.
She sat down with as much decorum as a rock thrown from a mountaintop.
“Would you like me to order something to drink,” he offered. “I believe iced tea, lemonade and coffee are on the room-service menu.”
She shook her head. Told herself that her sudden loss of fortitude was the unexpected news her mother had broken, but some part of her knew that it was more than that. Yes, she was startled by what her mother had told her and infuriated that this man had come here to upset her life, but there was more. It was him. Something about him put her off balance.
Okay, enough madness, she railed silently. The thought of how much this story getting out would hurt both her father and her mother rekindled the fire that had so suddenly extinguished when she came face-to-face with this enigmatic stranger.
“Who are you?” she demanded. The first sensible thing she’d said since he opened the door.
He sat down adjacent to her, only with a great deal more grace than she had shown. His khaki slacks and blue shirt, even at this hour of the afternoon, looked as fresh and wrinkle free as if they’d just been professionally laundered. Just a hint of shadow darkened his chiseled jaw. And, of course, every perfect hair was in place. All in stark contrast to her plain, slightly disheveled appearance.
“My name is Doug Cooper,” he said quietly. His voice was rich and smooth, but laced with sincerity and even what sounded like kindness. “I’m with the Colby Agency, a private investigation agency based in Chicago.”
Another jolt of confusion shattered the last of her rational thought. What in the world would a private investigation agency want with her? The answer struck as quickly as the question had. The D’Martines were wealthy. They had obviously hired someone to find her and her mother. At least that explained the gun.
“What do you want?”
The words came out just as emotionlessly as she had intended them. Her whole mind and body felt oddly numb. She wanted to rant and rave…and cry…but the energy to do so was curiously absent.
“Your mother told you about your biological father,” he suggested.
She was glad he used the term “biological father” since Harvey Harper was her father, and nothing, certainly not genetics, was going to change that. “Yes.”
Mr. Cooper nodded once and actually looked relieved. Eddi didn’t even try to figure that one out.
“Then you know that he was the heir to a vast fortune and that his murder remains unsolved.”
She had to confess to some regret…sympathy, even, for that tragedy. No one deserved to be murdered. But, other than being the sperm donor and her mother’s first love, she still didn’t understand what this had to do with her.
“What does this have to do with me, other than the obvious?” she demanded, voicing her thoughts.
Doug studied the woman seated next to him for a time before he answered her question. She had a right to know the whole truth and on her own terms, whether Thurston agreed or not. She was strong, he could see that. She wasn’t going to back down until she had the whole story. He respected that.
But, he had a job to do. His first loyalty was to his client. “Solange D’Martine, your paternal grandmother, wants to be a part of your life. You’re all that’s left of her son.”
Fury whipped across that pretty face. “It’s a fine time for her to show an interest now,” Edwinna snapped. “Where was she when my appendix had to be removed and my father missed three days’ work and the medical costs piled up? Or when my mother almost died in an automobile accident?”
Doug understood her anger. She was confused and hurt, at a number of people. She was doing the only thing she could, lashing out. “Your grandmother just recently learned of your existence.”
She made a disgusted sound. “And that’s my mother’s fault, right? I hope she also knows that my mom was only trying to protect me.”
“Mrs. D’Martine, above all others, will understand that,” Doug hastened to assure her. “That’s why I’m here.”
Edwinna narrowed the gaze that looked so damned much like her grandmother D’Martine’s. The young woman was in for a hell of a shock. The streak of white hair that highlighted her strawberry blond mane. That penetrating blue gaze. The nose…the chin. Everything. Edwinna Harper was the spitting image of her grandmother and she didn’t even know it.
“What do you mean, that’s why you’re here,” she prodded. She was no dummy. She wanted to know the whole deal. Now.
“When your grandmother learned of your existence she immediately feared that if the media found out, they would have a field day. Considering that your father’s murder was never solved, she worries that either the original kidnappers or perhaps copycats might try to do the same to you.”
Uneasiness slid through Edwinna. Doug watched her posture stiffen and her expression grow more wary. “Why would anyone do that?” Even her tone had grown smaller, more alarmed.
Once the initial shock wore off, she would be far more skeptical, far less receptive to his strategy. He had to somehow make her understand all that could be at stake here, including her life.
“The D’Martine fortune amounts to billions. We’re not talking about a paltry sum here. As the heiress to this fortune, your security becomes top priority. There are a lot of people out there who’d like to have a piece of that kind of money. When the word gets out, and trust me, it will, you’ll be a walking target.”
He’d watched her eyes go wider with each word he’d spoken. Finally, she shook her head and made a face, something between disbelief and consternation.
“Heiress?” She opened her mouth and splayed her hands as if at a loss as to what to say. “I’m no heiress. I’m just a plumber. I don’t want to be an heiress. I just want my family to be left alone.”
Doug braced his forearms on his widespread knees and leaned a little in her direction. “I’m afraid you don’t understand, Miss Harper. It’s not a matter of what you want or don’t want. You are the heiress to the D’Martine jewelry empire. It’s your birthright.”
Drawing back just in time as she rocketed from her seat, Doug watched her pace the room. He didn’t envy her this battle. The whole money thing was enough to contend with, but to suddenly know that your father wasn’t your father and that the man who was your father had been murdered…well, it was simply a lot to digest in one sitting.
She stopped abruptly and looked at him. “What about the other man? The suit?”
Doug relaxed a fraction. At least she wasn’t going to plunge into denial or run for the door…not yet anyway. “Mr. Thurston. He’s the D’Martine family attorney. His job is to inform you of your legal rights and obligations as a member of the D’Martine family.”
She looked taken aback. “Obligations? What obligations?”