Instructing an Heiress (19 page)

The group stared at him.
 

"It'll change everything. Make the path clear." Ajax picked up the swan with two fingers and carefully dropped it into the tip jar.

"To hell with that," Brad said. "You need to marry her before it's too late."

"No," Ryan said, leveraging away from the bar. "I need to let her go."

*
 
*
 
*

CK climbed the steps toward the study, the noise from the party fading away behind her. Her body still tingled from Ryan's lovemaking, but her emotions felt raw and bruised. If he hadn't gotten her so upset, she might have told him about the solution she and Steve had found to save the company and stop the marriage contingency of the Will.
 

Of course, the final success depended on her grandfather and Mr. Wayland. If they refused to support their idea, then she'd either have to accept Brad's offer or let Kazners sink.

CK paused outside the study door and collected herself, packaging away her worries and her sadness over Ryan. She needed to be composed and focused if she were going to create order out of the chaos her great-grandfather
 
had caused. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and calmly went inside.
 

The Captain had claimed the wingback chair by the unlit fireplace, his hands resting on the handle of his cane like a king on his scepter. Mr. Wayland sprawled comfortably on the overstuffed burgundy leather sofa. Steve contemplated the various titles stacked on the bookshelf in the corner, his back a rigid line of tension.
 

"Thank you all for coming," she said as she closed the door.
 

The Captain scrutinized her from his chair. "What's this about? Not like you to call secret meetings in the middle of a party."
 

"Admit to a fair amount of curiosity, myself," Wayland added. "The boy here was more closed mouth than a virgin on her wedding night."

"Dad," Steve said, disapproval lacing his tone.

Mr. Wayland's cheeks turned pink and he shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry, Miss CK. When I'm on edge, my words tend to run away with me."

"Humph," the Captain grumbled. "Girl's not that mamby-pamby. You're not dealing with an eight-year-old, you know."

CK sent a look of appeal toward Steve. This was going to be more challenging than she'd thought.

Steve cleared his throat and crossed the room to stand by the fireplace. "CK and I have been talking and—"
 

Mr. Wayland's face lit up, all chagrin evaporating. "I knew it! You're engaged!"

The Captain sat forward. "What? What? Is this true, young lady?"
 

"We're not engaged," CK said, testily, moving to stand beside Steve. Why couldn't everyone just let that go? "That's not what we want to talk to you about."

"Why the hell not?" the Captain bellowed, giving the carpet a thump with his cane. "Something wrong with the boy?" He turned bright eyes on Steve's father. "Something wrong with your boy, Wayland?"

"There's no call for—"

"Stop it you two," CK said, firmly. "There's nothing wrong with either one of us. Please try to focus."

"I have a great deal of respect for your granddaughter, sir," Steve said to the Captain. "But what you suggest is quite impossible."
 

CK gave the older men a hard stare. "If you don't mind, we prefer not to discuss our personal lives with either of you."

"We do mind! We did our damnedest to throw the two of you together and now you're—" The Captain sputtered to a guilty stop and suddenly found the gold handle of his cane very interesting.

Mr. Wayland gave him an appalled look. "They weren't supposed to know, Josh. You were all-fired insistent on that point."

"It slipped out."

CK's eyes widened in astonishment and she turned to Steve. "You were right."

"They weren't very subtle," Steve commented.
 

"But you two are perfect for each other," Mr. Wayland protested. "Couldn't you at least go out for a while? Make sure?"

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. "I should have told you something a long time ago, Dad. It would have saved you a lot of time and trouble."
 

"You're already secretly married!" his father said, his face splitting into a grin. "Why didn't you say so?"

Steve shook his head, his expression pained. He gave CK a helpless look.

"What Steve is trying to tell you," she said, gently, "is that he has someone, already. His name is Paul."

Mr. Wayland's expression went blank. He blinked a couple of times and then his eyebrows rose. "Oh?"

"I'm sorry, Dad."

"Oh!" A grin broke out across the older man's face. "Well that explains a lot. Hell, boy, you could have told me."

"I wanted to, but—"

Mr. Wayland narrowed his eyes at his son. "This Paul fella a good guy? Treat you well?"

"Yes, he's,..." A beautiful smile broke out over Steve's face. "He's great. He has his own architectural firm. Very successful."

"All I ask is that he's good to you. Still want to meet him, though. Give him the once-over, you understand."

Steve looked astonished. "Of...course. He's downstairs waiting for me."

Mr. Wayland gave a satisfied nod and turned back to the Captain. "Well, that settles that. We were fools, Josh, plain and simple. Now let's talk about Kazner business and how to keep CK off the old ball and chain. I take it you kids have a plan?"

"Who the devil is Paul and what does he have to do with my granddaughter?" the Captain blustered.

"Be quiet, Grandfather," CK said. "Mr. Wayland's right. If we're going to act on the information we discovered, it's best if we act quickly. We need to discuss the will and how to put a stop to this crazy tradition of forced marriages. It's cursed our family's happiness long enough."

"This talking in circles has cursed me into a headache. I demand—" The Captain shut his mouth and his eyes went wide. "Did you call me 'Grandfather?'"

"Ain't that what you are?" Mr. Wayland commented.

"She hasn't called me Grandfather since she was a little girl."

Honestly, it was like herding cats. "Try and focus, please."

"The arrangement has worked for a nearly a hundred years. Don't see why it can't work for you," the Captain said with satisfaction.

"You mean like the way it worked for Mom and Dad?"

"Now see here..." The Captain's words died away. He cleared his throat and stared at the fireplace. "Love comes later," he finally muttered.

"For you it did, but not for my parents," she said, gently. "I can't take that chance."

"We did some research," Steve interjected. "The will specifically states that Kazners Incorporated must go to a married Kazner heir before their thirty-fifth birthday or on the death of the preceding heir. Otherwise, Kazners Incorporated property, goods, and holdings will be sold immediately and the company dissolved."

"
Kazners Incorporated,
Grandfather," CK said, succinctly.

"Not
Millennial Curatives
," Steve added.

"What the hell is a
Millennial Curatives
?" The Captain demanded.

"If we merge companies immediately and rename ourselves, the contingencies of the will no longer apply." Excitement and worry churned through CK's stomach. "The final decision lies with the owners," she added, looking from Mr. Wayland to her grandfather and back.

She held her breath, afraid to move. Would her last hope for living life on her own terms without hurting those she loved be shattered in the next few moments?

Her grandfather stared at her, the wheels turning in his head, his eyes sharp. "By George," he said, softly. "Why didn't I see that? It's brilliant." His mustache twitched and then a smile spread over his face, fanning lines out from his eyes and around his mouth.
 

A moment later, his eyes clouded with worry. "But what about you, Connie May? I don't want you to be alone when I'm gone."

At his use of her childhood nickname, her eyes burned and then filled with tears. "I won't be alone, Grandfather. I have friends. I could get a dog." She gave him a watery smile.

"It's not the same."

"I know. I'll find someone, someday," she said, trying not to think of Ryan. "Most people do."

"There's always internet dating. It worked excellently for me," Steve offered.

She crossed to her grandfather and kissed him on his cheek. "I'll have our lawyers make the necessary changes to the contract, tomorrow."

"Sounds like a plan," Mr. Wayland said. "I like the name, too."

"I don't," the Captain groused.

"Let's drink to the brilliant team our kids make and argue over the name later, what do you say, Josh?" Mr. Wayland said, cheerfully.

A sharp knock echoed through the room. "CK?" Brad called through the door. She hurried over and opened it.

His expression sent a fissure of alarm through her. "What's happened?"

"He's leaving for France, tonight."

A chill clutched at her heart and in an instant of clarity, she understood that she'd let her fears of rejection blind her to what really mattered—friendship, family and love. Ryan was all three for her. She couldn't let him disappear from her life without a fight.

"Go," Steve told her. "I can wrap things up."
 

"He's out front waiting for a cab," Brad said.

CK gathered up her dress and dashed down the hall.

*
 
*
 
*

She found him leaning against the stone column at the edge of the front door alcove. He didn't turn when she stepped out and closed the door, but his shoulders tensed.

Suddenly unsure, she crossed to the other column and gazed out at the line of cars parked along the private drive.
 

"Your cab will be here soon. Were you planning to say goodbye?" she asked.

"Canceled it."
 

She let out a quiet sigh and he shifted against the stone. "Been thinking," he said. "About how my temper gets in the way."

"Mine, too. I'm sorry for that."

His shoulders relaxed a little.
 

The velvety night wrapped around them, touching her senses with the scent of cut grass and spring flowers. She fiddled with the diamond necklace at her throat and wondered if telling him the truth would make any difference.
 

Maybe it wouldn't, but she wanted him to know. She
needed
him to know.
 

"I've wanted to tell you what Steve and I were up to before now, but I couldn't," she said, softly. "We had to make sure it was possible, and then we had to clear the idea with the Captain and Mr. Wayland."

She glanced at him. He still stared at the trees beyond the drive. A crease of pain marred his forehead.

"Don't," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You don't have to justify yourself to me."

"We were never planning to get married, Ryan. We've been trying to find a loophole in the Will."

He turned his head and his gaze locked with hers. Both hope and the fear of disappointment churned in the depths of his eyes.

"We found one. I don't have to get married." She held his gaze, her heart pounding so hard it felt like she'd just run a marathon. "Unless I want to."

A flash of pain clouded his expression. Ryan's mouth pressed into a hard line and he looked away, staring out into the night, again. "That's good."

Her brow furrowed as a dull ache of loss knotted in the middle of her chest. He wasn't interested in her, after all. How could she have thought that he would be? People didn't change. Not really. She was incredibly naive to think that he would.

Apparently, he'd only pursued her because he thought someone else wanted her. The ache in her heart hardened into anger. She'd stupidly put more into it than he'd ever intended.

"You should also know," she said, lifting her chin and giving him a defiant glare, "that Steve was never interested in me. He has someone. His name is Paul."

Ryan looked confused for a moment, and then his eyebrows shot up. "Paul?"

She nodded.
 

"So, I've been making a royal jackass of myself this whole time, is that what you're telling me?"

"Jackass doesn't even begin to cover it."

He shook his head and his mouth twitched. The twitch morphed into a full-blown grin and he burst out laughing.
 

Startled, she watched him, her emotions churning into a tangle of confusion. After a moment, he calmed down and turned toward her, his eyes sparkling. "Come here," he said, opening his arms.

She eyed him suspiciously. "Why?"

"Because I'm going to kiss you. And then I'm going to ask you to marry me."

Her breath caught. "Are you serious?"

"Dead. I really am going to kiss you." In two steps he had her backed up against the cool stone of the column, his lean body flush against hers.
 

He cupped her face in his hands and his lips covered hers, warm and possessive. When he broke away, she looked up at him in wonder.
 

"I'm not saying I'll be the perfect husband," he said, stroking his thumb over her lips. "We're both as pig-headed as they come and we're going to fight a lot. But standing out here waiting for that cab, I realized that none of that mattered. I can't live without you, CK. I think I've loved you since the first day I saw you."

She reached up and touched his face, all the fear and pain of the last few days washing away as if they'd never existed. "It's always been you, Ryan. I've loved you all along, I just couldn't let myself admit it."

He stroked his hands up and down her bare arms and then stepped back. "How do you feel about France?"

"One of my favorite places to visit," she said, smiling.

"And vineyards?"

She tilted her head slightly. "What about them?"

"I own one." A sheepish wince flickered over his expression. "Also a chalet in Switzerland. And a small island with a house on it. Plus a few other investments scattered around the world."