Claiming Her Billion-Dollar Birthright (4 page)

“He knew all these years.”

Walter snorted. “Yes. Naturally he got in contact. He wanted to be a part of your life—as if I would ever have allowed that. The scandal of it would have rocked
this city. Ruined business, cost me clients. I couldn't have that.”

“Of course not,” she whispered, feeling another sharp slice of pain. Scandal was the one thing Walter wouldn't tolerate. The idea of his friends and business associates knowing about his wife's affair would have been unbearable for him. He hadn't hidden the truth because of his desire to protect and love her, but to save himself embarrassment.

This explained a lot, she told herself, her mind racing, darting from one thought to the next so quickly she could hardly keep up. As a girl, she had dreamed of a daddy who doted on her. After all, she was the youngest in the family by quite a bit. The youngest of her older brothers was still fifteen years older than she. Erica had grown up practically an only child. Her brothers were out and building lives of their own by the time she was a teenager.

But Walter had never been the kind of father she'd yearned for. At last, she knew why. And Erica wondered sadly if Don Jarrod would have been any different. He was—or had been—much like Walter, a businessman first last and always. And yet…

“He wanted me,” she said softly, more to herself than to Walter.

“He wanted to ruin
me,
” Walter told her flatly. Some of the hot color drained from his features. “He tried to convince your mother to leave me. Go with him to that backwater out in the country. But she knew what was best. What was right.” He nodded
with satisfaction. “Besides, I told her I wouldn't hold her mistake against her.”

“No,” Erica said softly. “You held it against me.”

He stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”

Erica's pain was enveloped by a rising tide of regret and sadness. “Father, my whole life you've looked at me with barely concealed revulsion.”

“Not true,” he said, but his gaze slipped to one side, avoiding her eyes.

Even now, he couldn't look at her. Couldn't meet her gaze and admit to the truth. But she wouldn't play the game anymore. She finally understood why she'd always been a little less worthy than her brothers and that in itself was liberating.

“Yes,” she said, “it is. I used to wonder what I'd done that was so wrong. So awful to make you dislike me so much.”

“I don't dislike you, Erica,” he said, surprise coloring his voice. “I love you.”

She wished she could believe that, but with her heart aching it was simply impossible. “You've never acted as if you do.”

He squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. “I'm not an emotional man, Erica, but you should be well aware of my feelings.”

“Until this moment, I wasn't sure you had any,” Erica snapped, then lifted one hand to cover her mouth, almost as stunned as he was that she'd said such a thing.

He looked at her as if she was someone he didn't even recognize, and to be fair, Erica thought, she could understand his reaction. In her whole life, she'd never
once spoken back to him this way. Stood up for herself. Always, she had tried to be the perfect daughter. To win a smile or a nod of approval from him. At this moment though, none of that meant anything to her. Right now, all she felt was her own hurt. Her own disappointment. Her own wish that things were different.

“Erica,” he said, that deep voice rumbling out around her as it had since her childhood. “I
am
your father in every way that matters. Haven't I always been here for you? Didn't I raise you? Have you
ever
wanted for anything?”

“Only your love,” she said, voice catching as she finally admitted to him that she'd felt that lack her whole life.

“How can you say that?” His shocked expression told her exactly how surprised he was by her words.

The tears that she'd managed to hold at bay all day finally began to show themselves. Irritated by their arrival, Erica quickly swiped them away with the backs of her hands.

“I'm sorry, Father,” she said at last. “Maybe my coming here wasn't a good idea. I didn't want to upset you. Didn't want us to tear at each other.”

He took a single step toward her, then stopped, clearly unsure of his next move. Which was, she thought, another first.

“Erica…” He paused as if gathering his scattered thoughts, then said, “Your mother wouldn't want you to go. She'd want you to stay here. With your family.”

Would she? Erica wondered. Or would her mother understand the need to discover her roots? God, what a
clichéd way to think of this. But wasn't it true? Wouldn't she be exploring her past so that she could figure out her future?

“I do love you, Father,” she told him. “But I'm going to Colorado. I have to. To meet my brothers and sister. To find out if I belong there any more than I do here.”

“What's
that
supposed to mean?” His bellow was completely unexpected. Walter Prentice never lost his temper. Or at least, he'd never allowed anyone to witness it. “Of course you belong here, this is your home. We're your family.”

“So are they.”

“You will not do this thing.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I forbid it.”

Erica had to smile through her tears. Typical of this man, she thought. If he couldn't sway, he would command, fully expecting that his opposition would fold and do exactly as he wanted.

Still, she loved him and wished he would sweep her up into his big arms and tell her this was all nonsense. That of course he loved her. Always had. Always would. She wanted to be cuddled against her father's broad chest and reassured about her place in the world.

But that wasn't going to happen.

Sadly, she faced him. “You can't stop me, Father, so please don't try.” Erica walked to the door and opened it but before she could slip through, his voice halted her.

“If you don't find what you're looking for there?” he asked. “What then?”

She glanced back at him and suddenly thought that he looked so…lonely, in his plush office surrounded by the symbols of his success. “Honestly? I just don't know.”

 

“So what is she like?”

Christian looked up from the desk in his office at the Manor and smiled at Melissa Jarrod. She wore a pale yellow silk blouse tucked into a short, dark green skirt. Her heeled sandals gave her already five-foot-eight height three extra inches and her blue eyes were sparkling with excitement. She shook her long fall of blond hair back from her face, planted both hands on the desktop and leaned toward him.

Looked as though he wouldn't be getting much work done, he told himself. Melissa was bound and determined to get information on her new sister and until he surrendered to the inevitable, Christian knew the woman wouldn't be going anywhere.

“Come on, Christian, give a little,” she prodded.

“I already told you she seems very nice,” he said.

“Nice doesn't tell me a lot.” She straightened up and paced around the room. “Is she funny? Boring?”

He didn't remember her being boring, Christian thought. Would have been easier on him if she had been. But no, Erica Prentice had to be strong and intelligent and—not helping, he told himself. “She's…nice.”

Melissa laughed. “Honestly, you're hopeless. You make a terrible spy.”

“Good thing I'm a lawyer then,” he said and shifted his gaze back to the papers on the desk. His brief hope
that he'd satisfied her curiosity and would be allowed to get back to work was shattered a second later.

“Fine. As a lawyer, give me a description. Tell me how she reacted. What she's thinking. Something,” she begged.

Sitting back in his chair, Christian looked across the room at the youngest Jarrod sibling—well, now thanks to Erica, she was the second youngest. Melissa hadn't taken long at all to decide to come home to Aspen. She'd quit her job managing a trendy, luxurious day spa in Los Angeles and had taken over at the spa here at the resort. Since she was also a yoga instructor, she had plans to include yoga retreats at the spa, as well. She'd slipped back into mountain life as if she'd never left it.

“What do you want to hear?”

“I don't know,” she said, laughing again. “I have a sister I've never met. Is she fun? Does she smile a lot? Is she stuffy? You know, more into business than anything else? Because really, with my brothers, I'm hoping she's not.”

“She didn't seem to be,” he said, thinking back on that one day he'd had with Erica. Not like he hadn't been doing a lot of thinking about her ever since they first met. On the long flight home, he'd almost convinced himself that the instant attraction he'd felt for her wasn't as overwhelming as he'd believed. But then Erica had called him that night to tell him she would be arriving in just a few days.

All it had taken was hearing her voice and his body was tight and hard and… Christian cut those thoughts
off fast. Melissa was pretty damned intuitive and he didn't need her picking up on what he was feeling for her sister.

“She was,” he said, before Melissa could prod him again, “surprised. As shocked as all of you were to hear about her connection to the family.”

“Poor thing,” Melissa murmured, her soft heart show ing. “I can't even imagine having that curve ball thrown at you.”

“You did have it thrown at you,” he reminded her.

“Yeah, but I already knew I was a Jarrod. She's coming into this cold and it had to be hard to find out you're not who you think you are.”

Christian smiled at her again. She was going to be an ally for Erica. A safe harbor in a strange new world. And that was a good thing. He had a feeling she was going to need friends. In their communications with him, Blake and Guy weren't exactly warming up to the idea of a new sister. And as for Gavin and Trevor…he'd know when they arrived what their attitude was going to be.

“I think it's safe to say it hit her hard. She's strong though,” Christian told her. “Every bit as tough as you are. But she's got a soft side, too,” he mused, remembering the sheen of tears she'd managed to keep at bay when they'd been talking.

“Do I detect some interest there?” Melissa asked.

“What?” He straightened up and glared at her. Damn it, he couldn't afford to relax his guard for a minute around her. She was way too perceptive. “No. You don't. Besides, that would be inappropriate.”

“Oh, for heaven's sake, Christian,” Melissa said with a sad shake of her head, “you sound like a Puritan or something.”

“I'm not and I'm also not discussing this with you. Don't you have a spa to run?”

Frustrated, she huffed out a breath. “Honestly, men are the most bizarre creatures.”

“Thanks so much. Goodbye.”

“Oh, I'm going,” she said, smiling now as she headed for his office door. “But don't think this ends the conversation, Christian.”

Once she was gone, he leaned back in his chair again and told himself to shape up. He couldn't afford to show any of the Jarrod siblings that he was attracted to Erica. With the board of directors due to meet in a few months, he couldn't afford to start rumors.

Dating a member of the Jarrod family was one sure way for an employee to find himself quickly unemployed. It was there in the contracts they all signed, since Don had been adamant about protecting his family. Don's will ensured that the fraternization clause would stay. The board of directors would follow Don's directions until new ones were put in their place. Christian couldn't count on the Jarrod siblings doing anything to change the status quo. And he wasn't going to give up the job he'd worked so hard for and loved so much for any woman.

No matter how much he wanted her.

T
hree days after her lunch with Christian, Erica was on a private plane headed to Aspen. Strange how quickly she'd managed to pull this together. Erica had taken a leave of absence from her firm, closed up her condo and put her car into storage. When she called Christian Hanford to tell him her plans, he'd insisted on sending the family jet for her. She'd argued with him of course, but Erica thought as she looked around her, she was glad she'd lost that argument.

The plane was furnished with both elegance and comfort in mind. Thick, sky-blue carpeting covered the floor and the dozen seats were in pale blue leather and more comfy than any first-class accommodation she'd ever tried. There was a flat-screen TV on the bulkhead, a selection of movies for the DVD player and
a stereo outfitted with dozens of CDs. There was also a uniformed hostess who had served Erica a delicious breakfast before disappearing into the front of the plane with the pilot and copilot.

She had the cabin to herself and Erica was grateful for the respite. She'd been doing so much thinking and considering over the last few days, had had so many people talking to her and at her, it was nearly a vacation to have some quiet time to herself.

Although, with all of this quality thinking time, she was starting to make herself crazy wondering what exactly she was getting herself into. Christian had said that her new family was eager to meet her.

She had to wonder about that. He was probably just being nice. Why would they be taking this situation any better than her older brothers had? She hardly saw her siblings unless it was at some family function, but only the day before, the three of them had descended on her en masse to try to talk her out of this move.

Erica leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. She could still hear her brothers' voices, alternately pleading, arguing and demanding that she stop hurting the man who'd loved her and raised her. Strange how they were all so interested in protecting Walter from a truth he'd known all along. None of them had given much thought to what
she
was having to deal with.

Even with her brothers coming at her from all sides, that confrontation hadn't been as bad as the one with her stepmother. Angela, to give the woman her due, loved Walter to distraction. She'd made him happy,
Erica knew, and she'd even tried, in the beginning, to foster a relationship with Erica. But the woman really wasn't very maternal and Erica had been old enough to resent a woman who wasn't her mother trying to take over her life. So they'd never really connected. And that wasn't likely to change now, she thought as she remembered that last scene with her stepmother.

“You're hurting him with this, Erica,” Angela had said softly, her tone and expression clearly showing her disapproval. “He doesn't deserve this sort of treatment from you.”

“Angela, all I want to do is find out who I am,” she argued patiently.

“And you believe your father resents your choice.”

“Are you saying he doesn't?”

Angela took a long breath and let it sigh from her lungs. Picking up her clutch, she tucked it beneath her left arm and slowly shook her head. “You've never looked past his brusque exterior to the man beneath, have you?” Not waiting for an answer, she said, “One day you will, my dear. And you'll see that Walter's heart aches for you. He loves you, Erica. It doesn't matter that Don Jarrod donated his sperm to your creation. It's Walter Prentice who is your father.”

Was Angela right? Or was she only defending her husband as she always had? Erica didn't know, but she couldn't allow anything to stop her from this quest.

“So basically,” Erica whispered to no one, “I'm on my own. Probably about time, too,” she added under her breath.

Heaven knew this was the greatest adventure she'd ever undertaken. Unlike her friends, she hadn't backpacked through Europe after graduating from college. She hadn't taken a year off to “find” herself. Instead, she'd done exactly what was expected of her. She had gotten a job at a well-regarded firm and began the process of building a respectable life. In fact, Erica had never done a single thing on impulse. She had been the good little girl, doing the right thing. The proper thing. All because she had been trying to prove herself to a father who had never noticed her. Now though, it seemed she was making up for all of that.

Pulling up stakes and moving halfway across the country to live with people she didn't know and help run a resort she'd never seen.

It was crazy. Made zero sense. She should be terrified.

But she wasn't.

Erica looked out the window at the earth far below and watched the view change from city to mountains and plains and felt a stir of excitement rise up inside her. This was new. Fresh. She had a chance here that few people ever had. An opportunity to completely reinvent herself. She was going to do the best she could with it. She was going to find her way and figure out who she was and when that was done, she'd be able to face her father again and hold her head high.

She picked up her cup of coffee and sipped at it. But for the muffled roar of the engines, the inside of the jet was quiet. She wasn't interested in watching a movie or listening to the selection of music they had on board. In
fact, she was actually too restless to sit still. The only thing keeping her in her buttery-soft leather chair was her instinctive fear of flying. And as the time ticked away, Erica's excitement turned into nervousness and she worried about the reception she'd be receiving once she landed.

Friends? Or enemies? And how would she be able to tell?

The pilot's voice crackled over the speaker, interrupting her thoughts. “Ms. Prentice, please make sure your seat belt is fastened. We're beginning our initial descent and will be landing in Aspen in about twenty minutes.”

She nodded as if the man could see her, then smiled at herself.

Only twenty minutes until her new life started.

 

He was waiting on the tarmac.

Christian Hanford looked different than he had in San Francisco, Erica thought as her heartbeat sped into a gallop. For one thing, he wasn't wearing a suit. And if she'd thought him gorgeous in that elegantly cut business suit, it was nothing to how she felt now.

He was wearing dark blue jeans, black boots and a red pullover collared shirt. His short dark hair ruffled in the wind and his lazy stance as he leaned against a black BMW only added to the “dangerous” air about him.

He walked to meet her as she came down the retractable stairway. A half smile on his face, he stopped
at the bottom of the staircase and looked up at her. “How was your trip?”

“Fabulous,” she said quickly. “Thank you for sending the jet for me.”

“Least we could do,” he said and held out one hand to help her down the last few steps. His thumb traced lightly over the back of her hand and his touch felt like licks of flame. His dark eyes locked with hers and Erica felt a nearly magnetic pull toward the man. For one split second it was as if they were the only two people in the world. His square jaw was shadowed with a faint trace of whiskers and his mouth was still curved in that half smile as he added, “It's the Jarrod family jet. You're family.”

She laid her free hand against her abdomen in an attempt to still the butterflies that had suddenly decided to swarm inside her. It was a wasted effort. With excitement came nerves and she didn't expect either to let up anytime soon.

“How about a quick tour of Aspen before we go to the resort?”

“I'd like that,” she said, tearing her gaze from his really gorgeous dark chocolate eyes long enough to look around her. Once she did, she gasped.

She glanced around the small—compared to San Francisco—airport and the mountains surrounding them. The sky was so blue it nearly hurt to look at it and the white clouds scudding across that sky could have been painted on, they were so perfect. The air was sharp and clean and the relative quiet was nearly deafening to a woman used to the sounds of a city.

“It's beautiful,” she whispered, staring out at the mountains that towered over them like guardian angels.

“You know,” he said, and she turned to catch him looking at her, “it really is.” Then he shook off whatever he was thinking, and gave her hand a tug. “Come on, city girl. Let me show you around.”

 

She was too damn beautiful; that was the problem, Christian told himself. He'd hoped that his memory of her was exaggerated. That she hadn't really had eyes the color of finely aged whiskey. That she didn't smell like peaches. That her softly layered hair didn't really lift in the wind until it looked like a halo around her head. He'd hoped that his desire for her would be something he could tuck away and ignore.

But just touching her hand had set off explosions of want inside him and now Christian knew exactly what he was up against. Temptation.

He kept her hand tucked into his as he led her toward his car. The top was down and it was a perfect day for her to see her new home. When he opened the car door for her he took an extra second to enjoy the view. She wore white linen slacks, a dark blue shirt and black leather flats, and managed to look more beautiful than any woman had a right to. Oh, yeah. He was in deep trouble.

He closed the car door and said, “We'll drive through town, let you get your bearings.”

“What about my luggage?”

“They'll deliver it to the resort.”

“Right.” She nodded. “Okay then.”

He hopped in on the driver's side, fired the engine and drove out of the airport.

“I can't believe the mountains are so close,” she said, pushing her windblown hair out of her face.

“I've lived here my whole life so I guess I don't really take the time to look up at them much.”

“I don't know how you could do anything else,” she admitted.

He followed her gaze briefly, allowing himself to admire the sweep of green that climbed up the mountains ringing Aspen. Like most citizens of Aspen, he more or less took the natural beauty of the place for granted. When you grew up in the middle of a painting, you tended to think everyone else lived with those kinds of views, too.

Christian gave her a quick grin. “I give you two weeks before you stop noticing them, just like the rest of us.”

She glanced at him and shook her head. “I'll take that bet.”

As he drove into the city, he rattled off the names of the businesses crowded along the streets. On Galena he pointed out the old brick buildings, several of the shops and Erica noticed the flower boxes lining the walkways between stores. Down Main Street, he showed her the
Aspen Times,
one of the town newspapers, and she smiled at the small blue building adorned with old-fashioned gold lettering across the front.

He knew what she was seeing, but he had to admit
that like the mountains, he tended to take for granted the charm of the city he'd grown up in.

It was modern of course, with plenty of high-end boutiques and shops for the megawealthy and celebrities who flocked here every year. But it was also an old mining town. Brick buildings, narrow streets, brightly colored flowers in boxes and old-fashioned light posts that were more atmospheric than useful. It was a mingling of three centuries, he supposed.

“In Aspen, we've sort of held on to the old while we welcomed the new.”

“I love it,” she said, her head whipping from side to side so she could take it all in.

He threw a quick look at her, saw pure pleasure dancing in her eyes and wondered how he was going to maintain a strictly business relationship with the youngest of Don's daughters. As his mind wrestled with his body's wants, he tried to focus on the road and not the way she lazily crossed her legs.

“It's so big,” she said after another minute or two.

“Aspen?” He gave her another quick look. Coming from a city the size of San Francisco, he was surprised to hear she thought Aspen was big. “It's not, really. Population's around five thousand with a hell of a lot more than that every winter for the skiing and in the summer for the food and wine gala.”

“No, not Aspen itself,” she corrected. “Colorado. It's all so…open. God, the sky just goes on forever.” She laughed a little and shrugged. “I'm more used to fragments of sky outlined by office buildings.”

“Which do you like better?”

“Well,” she said as he stopped at a red light, “that's the question, isn't it? San Francisco is beautiful, but in a completely different way. I feel so out of my element here.”

The light changed, he put the car in gear and stepped on the gas. Keeping his eyes on the road, he said, “You're Don Jarrod's daughter, so Colorado's in your blood. Your family goes back a long way here.”

“Tell me,” she said, focusing on him now more than the city around them.

“I'll do my best,” he said, thinking back to everything he'd heard Don talking about over the years. “Don's great-great-grandfather started the resort. He was here for the silver mining boom that started the city back in 1879. Bought himself some land and built what he called the biggest, damnedest house in Colorado.”

Erica smiled. “No shortage of self-esteem in the Jarrod family then?”

“Not 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.”