Claiming Her Billion-Dollar Birthright / Falling For His Proper Mistress. Maureen Child
at all,” Christian agreed with a chuckle. “Anyway, by 1893, Aspen had banks, theaters, a hospital and electric lights.”
“Impressive,” she said, half turning in her seat to watch him as he spoke.
“It was. Then the bottom dropped out of the silver market, mines closed and people moved out by the hundreds. Eli Jarrod refused to go, though. He kept adding on to his house, and opened it up as a hotel. There were still plenty of people back east who wanted to come out here on fishing and hunting trips and Eli was set up to take care of them.”
“Smart.”
“Not a shortage of brains in the Jarrod family, either,” he told her. “Anyway, Eli managed to hang on. The Depression wasn’t easy for anybody, but then the resort really took off in 1946. Then people were discovering the mountains for skiing and the Jarrods were prepared to handle the tourism trade.”
“Right place, right time?”
“I guess,” he said, “though they hung on through the lean years when everyone said that a hotel in the middle of ‘nowhere’ was a bad idea. So maybe you could just put their success down to pure stubbornness.”
He steered the car past a delivery truck and along street after street. Businesses gave way to bungalow homes set far back on wide lots dotted with pines. Soon they left the city behind and turned onto a road guarded on either side by tall trees and open space.
“Tell me about the resort.”
Christian nodded. “Like I said, it started out as just the family home, though your ancestor made sure it was the biggest house for miles around. As he turned it into a hotel, the place got even grander. Wings were added off the main building and the Jarrod resort was born.” He took a sharp left and steered the car across the bridge spanning the Roaring Fork River. “And the resort just kept growing. The main hotel is out front and the top floor is the family residence. That’s where you’ll be staying.”
She took a breath and nodded. “Okay, what else?”
“There are lodges built on the grounds, some of them actually going up the slope of the mountain. There are standard log cabins, some stone ones. Most of the lodges are small and cozy, one-family deals, but there are much bigger ones too, fully staffed with butlers, maids and cooks.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Wow.”
“Oh, yeah.” He steered the car down a narrow road lined with stands of trees so thick she could barely see through them. “I think you’re about to be amazed, Erica Prentice.”
She laughed. “What makes you think I haven’t been already?”
“It’s about to get better,” he assured her.
The long drive up to the resort unfolded in front of them. An acre of neatly tended lawn bordered by banks of flowers spilling color and scent lay in front of the truly impressive Manor.
Erica felt her mouth drop open. “It’s a castle,” she whispered, her gaze sweeping up and over the main stone building, then encompassing the wings jutting out from either side. Flowering green shrubs crouched at the base of the Manor and gleaming window panes shone in the sun like diamonds. There were peaked roofs, balconies with iron railings and the aged brick of the structure itself was the color of roses.
It would have seemed like a postcard, but for the bustle of employees around the circular drive making the whole place come alive. A doorman in a sharp, navy-blue-and-gold jacket spouted orders like a general and bellmen raced to follow them. Luxury cars idled beneath an arched stone covering over the gravel drive as guests stepped from them to be escorted into the hotel.
“This is …” she whispered, still stunned.
“I told you,” Christian said. “Amazed.”
“That’s really not a big enough word,” she told him as he pulled under the archway and stepped out of the car. In a moment, Christian was at the passenger side, helping her out. She stood up and did a slow turn, trying to take in everything at once.
It was impossible. She thought she’d need weeks to get the whole picture of the Jarrod resort. But what she had seen, she loved. Erica had never seen anyplace like it. It was as if she had stepped into a fairy tale. All that was missing was the handsome prince riding up on a black charger.
Then her gaze shifted to Christian. Handsome man in a black BMW. The modern version of the fairy tale then, she thought with an inner smile. But he wasn’t a prince and she wasn’t in need of rescuing. Or was she?
Shifting her gaze to scan the yard, then turning to peek through the open double doors into the lobby, Erica couldn’t avoid a quick jolt of nerves that shot from her stomach up to her heart and back again. She was here. About to meet a family she’d never known and there was no going back.
“Second thoughts?”
She turned to look at Christian and found him watching her with a bemused expression on his face. Funny, she hadn’t even met him a week ago and now, he was the one spot of familiarity in a rapidly changing world.
“No,” she said firmly, taking a deep breath as she did so. “No second thoughts. I made the decision to come here and I’m going to stick with it.”
A flash of admiration lit up his dark eyes briefly and Erica felt warmed by it.
“Good for you,” he said, then waved one arm out toward the interior of the hotel. “Ready to see your new home?”
“As I’ll ever be,” she told him and started walking.
The honey-colored wood walls and floors shone like a jewel box in the overhead lights. Framed photos of the mountain taken during every season dotted the walls and there were tables and chairs scattered around the wide lobby. A hum of conversation rose and fell as people wandered around the room and through it all, there was an almost electrical air about the place.
Erica swiveled her head from side to side, looking at everything as Christian guided her across the lobby to an elevator off by itself. “This is the private elevator to the family quarters,” he told her and took a card from his pocket to slide into the key slot.
The door slid open and they stepped inside. Again, honey-colored wood set the tone, making Erica think not only of a mountain cabin, but warmth and luxury.
“Your key will be in your suite, waiting for you,” Christian was saying. “Your luggage probably beat us here, since we took the scenic route. You’ll find everything you need in your suite. There’s even a small efficiency kitchen there and it’s been stocked with the basics.”
“Okay.”
“There’s also a main kitchen on the family level, if you really feel the urge to cook something. But the hotel restaurants will deliver, so you don’t have to worry about that if you don’t want to.”
“Oh, I like cooking,” she told him as the elevator stopped and the door opened.
“Well, then, you and your brother Guy should get along just fine. He’s a chef.” Christian stepped out and held the door back for her. “He was, anyway. He owned his own restaurant in New York before coming back to Aspen and now he’s pretty much taking over running the resort restaurants.”
“A chef,” she mused with a smile. “I’m not in his league, then. I said I like cooking. Didn’t promise I was good at it.”
“Make me dinner some night,” he said, then stopped and frowned to himself as if he already regretted the words.
Judging by his expression, Erica ignored what he said, stepped into the hall and sighed as she looked around. “It just keeps getting prettier.”
The hallway they stepped into was wide, leading off in two directions. Wood floors, walls the color of fog and a narrow table boasting a cobalt vase stuffed with roses and hydrangeas greeted her. Every few feet, an arched window let in sunlight and provided a view that