Seducing an Heiress (22 page)

With trembling fingers, Dakota carefully tore open the seal and pulled out a letter and a thick bundle of papers. She handed the papers to Trey and smoothed out the letter on her lap. 

It had been written on a piece of notebook paper in her mother's hand. The date was just days before she'd died. 

She blinked back a sudden rush of tears and took a deep breath.

"Darling Dakota," she read, laying her head on Trey's shoulder so he could hear her better. "I came across this file by accident when I was looking for an earring I'd lost in Carl's office one afternoon."

"Carl?" Trey asked, his warm breath feathering across her forehead.

"My father's first name."

"Huh. Okay. Keep going."

"I understood enough of what I was reading to realize that I'd married a criminal, but I was pregnant and in love and didn't want to think about it. When you were born a girl, all that changed. Carl was furious. I hadn't realized how obsessed he was with building his business empire until that moment and it frightened me.

"When I couldn't get pregnant again, the affairs started. I knew my beautiful daughter and I were living on borrowed time, so when he made his annual trip to India with his mistress instead of me, I made it my business to find these papers. They're only copies, I didn't dare take the originals, but I knew they'd be enough if he ever tried to come and take you from me.

"In all the years after the divorce, he never did. But now I'm dying and I have to let him take you because you have no one else in the world. With God's blessing you'll find this letter if you ever need it. Use the information to keep yourself safe, Dakota.

"All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. I don't know what's ahead for me, but I have to believe that whatever it is, I'll still want that for you. I love you always, Mom."

The ache of loss, fresh and sharp as if she were thirteen again and her mother newly gone, gripped Dakota. Pressing her face into Trey's shoulder, she cried softly into his shirt. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her, one hand rubbing her back in comforting, soothing circles.

She wasn't surprised that her father had kept a mistress and been involved in criminal activities, and the fact that she wasn't filled her with a feeling of defeat and shame that she never would have expected. 

More than ever she wished they'd found that real birth certificate she used to daydream about. She'd never wanted so desperately to not be the Jamison heiress. 

After a while her tears slowed and she realized there was no point in mourning things she had no control over. She pulled away from Trey, blew her nose, and took a deep breath.

"Mom went to a lot of trouble to give me those papers. We better see what's in them." She grabbed another tissue and dabbed at her eyes.

"I glanced at them while you were reading the letter," Trey said, barely-suppressed excitement lighting his bruised face.

Her breath quickened as uneasiness threaded through her stomach. "And?"

"Carl Jamison the Third was up to his neck in a very big Ponzi scheme with some very dangerous players." He handed her the papers. "And my guess is he's still at it."

*  *  *

Trey watched Dakota as she read quickly through the contract Jamison and three other prominent businessmen had signed twenty-five years ago. The idea that maybe he hadn't been so unlucky in his parents ran through him, making him feel uncomfortably introspective. 

He'd been forced to analyze his feelings more in the last twenty-four hours than he had in twenty-eight years and he was pretty sure he hated it. On the other hand, if he'd spent a little more time at it, maybe he wouldn't have gotten them into this mess in the first place.

 Seeing the pain in Dakota's eyes as she assimilated the fact that her father was as far from being worthy of human compassion and regard as a parent could get, tore at him. He wanted to make things better for her and he wasn't sure how. 

He hadn't lived the best life a man could live. There had to be something in there that they could use.

Glancing at the thin curtains covering the window of her bedroom, he could see the sky melting from pitch black to a murky gray. Dawn was coming.

How could they use twenty-five year old evidence to turn the tables on Jamison? They didn't even have a way to get it to the authorities.

Dakota folded the papers and letter together and reverently placed them back into the envelope. "Can you get the compartment to lock again?"

"Sure." Trey took the packet and locked it in the false bottom of the jewelry box.

She stared at the window, her gaze unfocused. As he watched her, a satisfying warmth moved through his chest. He knew what the oddly tender feeling meant now. He'd known since that last morning in her apartment. 

It scared the hell out of him to feel this way, but he was glad, too. He knew it made him vulnerable, stupid even. He had the sore face to prove that. But it also made him strong in a way he never could have anticipated. Even if she never felt the same way about him, knowing Dakota had enriched his life.

 He broke from his musings when he realized she was staring him, her eyes wide and unguarded. 

"What is it, Trey?" she asked, concern overlaying her softly spoken words. 

He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but the pull on his mouth made his split lip sting. "It's almost morning. Any ideas how we're going to get out of this?"

Speculation flickered through her eyes. Somehow she knew that's not what he'd been thinking about. "We can't really use Mom's evidence," she said, apparently deciding not to press the issue. "If we try, they'll just take it from us."

Trey put the jewelry box behind him and wrapped his hands around hers. His new feelings buzzed up a notch, sending awareness of her through his body in a way he didn't think would ever get old. "You can't sign the contract."

She nodded, her expression sad. 

"I know a great lawyer who owes me a favor. He'll get me out of this."

"Dad has a whole team of the best, most ruthless lawyers money can buy. And probably several judges. You don't stand a chance."

"I don't care about any of that. I only want to know you're safe from him."

Deep in her soft, brown eyes, the speculation flared again. "Why, Trey? This isn't like you."

Shame pinched his conscience. She was right, but he couldn't change his past. He could only move forward.

"They're going to be here any minute," he said, squeezing her hands, gently. "I might not get another chance to tell you I've fallen in love."

Dismay spread over her face and her bottom lip trembled. "Oh." She slid her hands out of his and clasped them in her lap, studying them like they were suddenly the most fascinating things in the world.

His heart gave a stutter and he realized he'd stupidly hoped that maybe she felt the same way.

"Who is she?" she asked.

"Who is who?" Trey studied the flowery design on the canopy over his head and tried to get a handle on the lump in his throat. It wasn't the end of the world, he told himself, but it sure did feel like it.

"Who are you in love with?"

He looked at her. "I'm in love with you. Isn't that what I said?"

"You said you'd fallen in love." She narrowed her eyes at him. "That's not the same thing."

Trey replayed the conversation in his mind. Damned if he hadn't. Why did he always say the wrong thing to her when it was really important? 

"You're an idiot," she said, warmly. "I can't believe I'm in love with an idiot."

"You love me?" Joy burst through his heart. She loved him! "That's good. That's really good." He grinned at her, or at least tried to.

She attempted a scowl, but her smile broke through ruining the effect. "It is good." She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the mouth. "We can't let Dad know. He'll find a way to use it against us."

"Too late for that." Trey gently worked his jaw back and forth to ease the stiffness. "The only hope we have of getting out of here is one helluva good bluff."

The casual jest sparked the beginnings of an idea. He turned it around in his mind, spinning out all the ways it could go wrong and the one way it might go right. 

He looked her deep in the eyes. "Dakota, do you trust me?" They'd have to work like a well-oiled experienced con team to pull this off and she'd have to carry most of the load.

Her expression turned serious. "I do."

While he gave her a rough outline of his plan, he carefully placed the jewelry box exactly where it had been, even running his shirt tail over it to wipe off any prints they might have left. 

He'd just stepped away from it when the door opened and the head of security came into the room. His gaze darted over the curtain rod and the radio before focusing back on them. Trey thought he saw a flicker of admiration in his eyes, but he wasn't certain. 

"It's time," the taller man said to Dakota in his usual flat tone.

*  *  *

The head of security took them into the solarium where her father had breakfast every morning. When she lived here she was forbidden to eat with him until she could keep her mouth shut unless he asked a direct question. 

She could count on one hand the times he'd done that. Why he'd bothered making her join him had always been a mystery. Now that she knew more about him, she wouldn't be surprised to learn that it was part of his plan to train her to be afraid of him.

It would be sweet to turn the tables on him, for once. If their plan didn't backfire.

They sat down at the opposite end of the table from her father where two other places had been set. Marcus posted himself by the French doors that normally would be opened out onto the hall, hands clasped loosely in front of him, legs braced slightly apart, eyes staring straight ahead at nothing. 

"Do you have the contract, Marcus?" her father asked without looking up from his soft-boiled eggs.

Marcus produced the blasted papers from somewhere in the depths of his suit coat. When he'd managed to swipe them off the desk, she had no idea.

Her father ran his gaze over one page and then the other, flipping through them faster and faster. Finally he threw the lot of them onto the table. "None of these have been signed," he said, his steady voice a frightening dichotomy to the fury blazing in his eyes.

 "Is that a question, Dad?" she asked remembering everything Trey had said about how to play their hand. She reached for the crystal pitcher in front of her and poured herself a glass of orange juice. "Juice?" she asked Trey.

"Please."

Her father's eyes narrowed, taking on a calculating gleam. "Bacon?" He picked up the platter in front of him and held it out to Trey. "You won't get much of this kind of food in prison."

"After you." Trey gave him a half smile, his eyes hard. 

Dakota felt like she was watching two professional poker players square off. She prayed she was up to the game. A lot depended on it.

Dad's eyes flickered to Marcus. The security guard stepped forward and laid a folded contract in front of her. "Perhaps you're waiting for assurance that I'll keep my word," her father said. 

She opened the papers and saw a cover letter stating all the charges that would be dropped upon delivery of the employment agreement from her. The bundle underneath was a copied report, the top of each page bearing the address of social services from a county in Virginia.

Not a contract. Rosie's adoption papers. Her heart beat faster as she scanned down the document. At the bottom, a familiar signature caught her eye. She hid her amazement as she read the name several times. She could hardly believe it. 

"What's that?" Trey asked, nodding at the papers.

She held the report out to him, but before his fingers touched it, Marcus took it away. Trey must have realized what she'd been holding, because a shadow of anger passed through his eyes. 

She hoped she was the only one to see it. They couldn't afford any show of weakness. 

The employment contract landed in front of her along with a pen. She picked it up. Time to throw the gauntlet.

 Looking directly at her father, she tore the contract in half.

His expression never changed, but a deep red flush crept up his neck and over his face. "Marcus," he ground out.

The security guard stepped toward Trey.

Dakota held up her hand, just like she'd seen her father do a thousand times. To her gratification, Marcus stopped. 

"Have you ever noticed how people have a way of talking around someone when they think they're too stupid to understand?" She raised an eyebrow at her father. 

He let out a long breath, much like she'd seen parents do in her restaurant when a toddler refused to behave. "You have a point?"

"I have a story. One I think you might be interested in."

"I find that difficult to believe."

"Picture this. Over twenty years ago an ambitious businessman is asked by some powerful friends to join them in a scheme that will triple their money in a matter of months."

Her father's eyes widened, almost imperceptibly.

"The plan works, so he decides to try it on his own. He's so successful he's able to form a leather goods company to help hide his profits. He continues on, careful to only take money from people who are powerless to hurt him if they ever discover they've been had." She smiled, cold and confident like she'd seen him do. "Do you like my story so far?"

Her father leaned back in his chair, his face a mask of unconcern, even though a muscle ticked along his jaw. "Quite the fairy tale."

"One day, without realizing it, he marks a representative of a powerful group. With the scheme in its last stages, the investor stands to lose all of his money. Things are guaranteed to get ugly. Even dangerous. So our business man finds a buyer for one of his profitable lines. Unfortunately, this buyer will only take it off his hands if the face of the line comes with it."

She leaned forward. "Unfortunately for him, the face of the line has other plans. She knows about the business man's illegal dealings. She refuses to cooperate."

His eyes glittered with malice. "Does this fictional person have proof?"