Seducing an Heiress (2 page)

She looked up and nearly dropped the soup.

Trey had turned to the side and leaned back against the frame of the picture window. His eyes watched her with keen interest. 

Dakota's mouth went dry. She'd hidden her tracks thoroughly, she knew she had. She'd taken every precaution to hide her identity. She'd even changed her name and her looks.

If he weren't here by coincidence, then he'd put a lot of effort into finding her. A very bad sign. 

There was no reason for him to do that. She swallowed a gasp.

Unless her father had set him on her trail.

"Dakota?" Chelsea's voice broke through her tangled thoughts. "You want my money or not?"

"Sorry."

Chelsea's bright blue eyes sparkled. "Thinking about a new recipe? Or the cutie by the window?  

"Just working through something in my head."

"I bet. He inspires things in my head, too. And other places." She grabbed her bag of food and winked. "See you later. Let me know how it turns out."

Normally Chelsea's cheerful, slightly naughty personality made her smile. This time all it did was fill her with dread and remind her of everything she had to lose if Trey were here for something more than lunch.

She'd worked too hard to achieve her independence away from the long shadow of her father and her past. For the first time in her life she had friends who liked her for herself--not for her money or her father's power. She belonged here. She was happy. 

She wouldn't let that be destroyed.

Her apprehension hardened into determination. If Dad thought he could send his pretty bloodhound to drag her back into the fold, he really didn't know her at all. 

She'd never go back to that world, again.

*  *  *

Trey watched Dakota Jamison bearing down on him like an avenging goddess in flour splattered jeans and a baggy T-shirt and carrying a coffee pot.

He felt like he'd landed in the
Twilight Zone
. 

The Jamison heiress serving coffee wasn't the only thing that had changed since he'd last seen her. She'd added thick-rimmed glasses and cut her waist-length black hair to just below her ears and dyed it red. It was a decent disguise. Most people would never associate this woman with the exotic heiress who'd been taped having sex in a dorm room with her lover. 

Dakota came up to the table, her dark brown eyes full of mistrust behind the ugly glasses. His body buzzed with awareness as her cinnamon scent drifted around him. 

The memory of her kiss speared through him. Warmth spread down his body as his groin tightened. 

He pushed the natural reaction away. 

He had a job to do and not a lot of time to do it. If Jamison hadn't sat on his ass for two months expecting her to crawl back to him, things would be a little easier. As it was, just tracking her down had taken most of the six months he'd been allotted. Approaching this assignment delicately was not an option anymore. Not if he was going to get what he wanted from Jamison.

She set a white mug in front of him. "Coffee?" she asked, as if she didn't have a clue who he was. Or was she hoping
he
was the one without a clue?

He gave her a polite smile, deciding to play along. For now. "Thanks." 

She filled his cup while surreptitiously giving him the once over.

"What else can I get for you?" 

"Beef barley, honey wheat, and a cinnamon roll." 

She pulled out the pencil she'd tucked above her ear and scribbled on her order pad. "I haven't seen you in here before. New in town?" 

Trey poured sugar into his coffee. "Just arrived last night." 

"Business or pleasure?" she asked, glancing up.

"Strictly business."

She frowned. "Most people don't find much of that in Harts Creek." 

 "That works out, then." He stirred his coffee, leisurely. "Like you, I'm not most people."

She sucked in her breath and a light sheen of sweat broke out above her sexy mouth. "Ten percent off your order if you get it to go," she whispered. 

"Tempting." Trey slid the hand written menu back behind the napkin holder. "But impossible."

Her eyes widened in alarm. She turned away and hurried off, her shapeless clothes unable to completely hide the graceful movement of her body, or her tight, generous curves. Nice to know some things hadn't changed.

Trey leaned back against the window again, satisfied that he'd gotten her attention. Dakota understood that he'd recognized her, but she didn't know what he planned to do about it. 

She'd have to talk to him, now. Find out how he wanted to play this. 

Taking a deep breath, Trey tried to relax. Thank God this was the last one. The last time he'd have to leave himself behind and play a part in order to talk someone into doing something he, or she, didn't want to do. 

Once this was over and Trey had the papers he needed to find his sister, he was done. What was left of his family would be together again. He could put his energy into starting over. Do things differently. 

With renewed determination, Trey turned his mind back to the job at hand. His first task was to figure out what motivated Dakota. His second was to give it to her. 

His third was to make sure she didn't get it for free.

*  *  *

Frustration boiled through Dakota as she watched Trey pick up his bill and saunter toward to the cash register. What was he after? Was he hoping to get money out of her?

Dakota almost smiled at that. She might have twenty bucks in her pocket he could extort, but other than that, good luck to him.

She wasn't the Jamison heiress anymore. When she'd walked out that night, she hadn't taken anything with her except what she'd been wearing, not even her mother's jewelry box. 

Luckily, the diamonds she'd had on had given her enough money to start her business and live modestly for close to eighteen months. Nearly half that time was gone now, and if she didn't expand her restaurant soon, she'd be sunk.

Trey stopped in front of the register and gave her a tilted, charming smile. His scent, like soap and sun warmed air, caressed the space around her. A wisp of awareness slid down her back.

Her eyes widened. No way. That did not just happen. Those kinds of feelings for him were a fluke; inspired by a kiss that had more to do with her need to get away than with any attraction between her and Trey.
Focus Dakota.
What was important now was getting rid of him.

Maybe she could convince him he was mistaken and she wasn't the Jamison heiress. He hadn't actually called her by name. There might be a chance he didn't know who she was.

Dakota pulled herself together, cleared her throat and did her best to smile as she rang up his order. "I had the impression you'd mistaken me for someone else," she said, trying to sound friendly.

"Did you?"

"Maybe someone you once knew?"

He pulled out his wallet, his expression giving away nothing.

Her hope went up a notch. "A lot of people think I look like that leather heiress, Dakota Jamison. I've seen her in the magazines. I think they just say that because of the name."

Interest sharpened his gaze. "What name?"

"Dakota. I'm Dakota
Johnson
." She wondered if she should pull out her license. No, that was too obvious. She held out her hand, instead.

Amusement sparkled through his green eyes as he clasped her palm. A current of excitement shot up her arm and her stomach fluttered. She snatched her hand back. 

"I guess it is kind of unusual," she said, trying to regain her composure. 

His smile turned sultry. "Very unique." 

Was he flirting with her? "I meant the name," she stated, a little sharper than she'd intended.

"Meet me after work."

She blinked, surprised for a moment, and then outrage scraped across her shoulders. So much for her hope that he didn't know her, blast it.

 She dropped his money on the counter. "Here's your change."

"You must stop working sometime."

She frowned at him. "You're not invited."

"We need to talk--"

"In case you didn't realize, I own this place. As in no free time."

"Privately."

From the corner Mrs. Fredrickson and Mrs. Aster glanced at them, openly curious. Trey was going to ruin everything! "I don't know you. Have a nice day," she snapped. 

He folded his arms across his chest and leaned one hip against the counter. "Want me to prove you do?"

"Good. Day."

"In front of all these people?"

She glared at him. "Fine. The park across the street. I close at three," she hissed.

He pushed his change toward her and she noticed that somehow a fifty dollar bill had been added to the pile.

"Thanks for the great service. Food was excellent."

"You're a bastard," she said under her breath. 

"Only when I have to be."

CHAPTER THREE

Dakota crossed the street to Thorton Park. Worry made her stomach feel like she'd swallowed a bucket of lead instead of the lentil soup she'd had for lunch. She didn't know what to expect from the meeting with Trey. Except that it wouldn't be good.

She walked slowly down the curved cement path past the gazebo where the High School's tiny marching band had played for the Labor Day celebration. The trees overhead were touched with color now and a few leaves crunched under her sneakers. The whole town reminded her of Central Park. She loved that.

Trey sat sprawled on a bench just ahead of her, gazing up into the sky. He must have sensed her presence even though she was still several yards away because he turned unexpectedly, subtly alert like a lion that had just spotted the zebra he was going to have for dinner. 

He didn't move as she approached. Just watched, his arm slung across the back of the bench, his legs stretched out, taking up space, owning it, claiming it.

She shivered and told herself it was from the sudden sweep of wind brushing her face and throat which still felt hot with anger. She did not feel a quick jump of awareness because of the breadth of Trey's shoulders or the way the afternoon sun slanted across the masculine planes of his face. 

Trey took his arm off the back of the bench when she stopped in front of him. He gestured to the space beside him. "You'd probably like to get off your feet."

"I'll stand, thanks."

"Afraid to get close?"

"Of course."

His sexy mouth quirked into a half smile. "You can handle it."

"But why should I bother?"

Dakota tracked the way his shirt lay across the flat, hard-looking span of his chest and over his trim stomach where it disappeared into the waistband of his trousers. 

What was she afraid of? He was just a guy. Like dozens of others she'd had to deal with when she worked for her father. Nothing special. She really had nothing to worry about.

She sat on the bench and crossed her arms. "You have ten minutes."

"Why'd you change your looks and your name?"

"Haven't you already figured that out?" She glanced at him and his forest green eyes locked onto her. They seemed to see into her very soul.

"The Jamison name would bring you a lot of business," he said.

And a lot of attention she didn't want. 

A flock of butterflies took flight in her stomach and Dakota looked away. "I want to be left alone."

"Why?"

All the whys cascaded over her and the resentment she felt from the hurt her father had caused flared to life. She looked at him again, letting her anger dominate, welcoming it and the protection it gave her against him. "What do you want?" she bit out.

"You mean besides you?" The edges of his voice melted with suggestion.

"Save your infantile seduction attempts for women who are interested. What are you
really
doing in my town?"

The sparkle of flirtation in his eyes shifted to open interest, but she ignored it. "Did my father send you?"

Trey sat back and studied her for a moment as if weighing his options in his mind. "Yes."

"Why?"

"He misses you."

"Oh, right." Her resentment deepened. "Let me tell you how this really works, Trey. He dangles something he thinks I want so he can get me to sign on the dotted line. Once I do, I'm trapped, legally this time, with no way out. He's got full control. All for my own good, or course." 

She wondered what Trey had been promised to play the part of retriever for her dad. "It's a load of crap. You're wasting your time here."

His gaze held hers. "I don't think so."

"Go back to New York. Tell Dad you couldn't find me."

"Come back with me. Negotiate to keep your restaurant. Get money to expand it. Prove to him you know what you're doing."

She pulled in a quick breath as his words jabbed at the painful stain of inadequacy that her father had left deep inside her. To show him she was good enough would be sweet. And much too risky.

"No."  She watched him carefully, waiting for the hardball to start.

"Even here you can't keep your identity secret forever."

And there it was. The veiled threat. "Screw you. I don't deal with blackmailers and I'm not afraid to start over." 

That was a bald-faced lie, but he didn't need to know it. Dakota moved to stand up before she blew her tough girl act by bursting into tears. 

Trey covered her hand with his, the light touch immobilizing her. Her thoughts dimmed as his warmth rushed up her arm and into her chest making her heart beat faster.

"I'm good at keeping secrets, Dakota. I can keep yours." 

"For a price."

He leaned forward and his compelling scent surrounded her, accentuated from being outdoors. The fire in his eyes flared brighter making some primitive part of her purr to life. "You're meant for bigger things than a bump in the road like Harts Creek."

"What is it going to take to get rid of you?" She hated the breathless catch in her voice, but she couldn't seem to stop it.