Claiming Her Billion-Dollar Birthright (6 page)

The living room was done in various shades of blue. Pale blue walls, dark blue, overstuffed furniture, cobalt vases stuffed with flowers dripping heavy scent into the air and navy blue drapes at the arched windows. The wood floor was dotted with braided rugs in shades of blue and cream and even the fireplace was fronted by tiles that looked like delft.

“Wow,” she said and even that word was just so insignificant to the task.

“Glad you like it,” he said, moving into the room behind her.

“What's not to like?” She did a slow turn, trying
to see everything at once. Then her gaze landed on Christian again. “To tell the truth, I wasn't expecting anything like this.”

He grinned briefly and something inside her twisted up tight in response. Really, the man had an almost magical smile. Good thing he didn't use it often.

“What were you expecting? A cell in a dungeon?”

She smiled and shrugged. “No, not that bad, but nothing so…”

“Melissa suggested you stay in this suite. She thought you'd like it and your brothers had no objection.”

“No objection.” Well, that was something, she supposed. “It was thoughtful of Melissa.”

“You'll like her. She's looking forward to meeting you.”

“And my brothers?”

He paused for a long moment before he said, “They'll come around.”

“Just one big happy family, huh?” Funny, her excitement-driven nerves had become anxiety-driven in the blink of an eye. It seemed there were plenty of hard feelings for everyone to get through before they could even begin to relate to each other.

“You have as much right to be here as they do,” he told her.

“Do I?” Erica shook her head and frowned as she threw out both hands as if to encompass the entire resort. “They grew up here. I'm the interloper. This is their
home.
”

“The home that every one of them escaped from the minute they got the chance.”

Her hands fell to her sides. “Why did they? Was Don Jarrod such a bad father?”

“Not bad,” he said, crossing the room to stand by her side. “Just busy. Opinionated.” Christian smiled ruefully. “He wasn't even my father and he was full of orders about what I should do with my life and the best way to do it.”

“Sounds familiar,” Erica mused, strolling to the window and staring out at the pool area and the mountains beyond. “I grew up with a father much like him. Ironic, isn't it?”

“Maybe that insight will make it easier for you to understand your siblings.”

“I guess we'll see. Seems strange that this lovely place is practically empty. It's sad, somehow. That none of the Jarrods want to live in their family home.”

“Well,” Christian allowed, “like I told you, Don wasn't the easiest father in the world. Most of them have issues with the place and aren't very happy about the way their father arranged getting them back to Aspen.”

She sighed a little. “So, we've got father troubles in common, anyway.”

“You could say that.” He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and watched her as she walked to the sofa in her new home. “Speaking of your father, how'd it go when you spoke with him about all of this?”

Erica shot him a look. “As I expected. He didn't want me to come.”

“Why did you?”

She stopped, leaned over and picked up a throw pillow. She ran her fingertips across the heavily embroidered fabric, then set it down again. “I had to. I had to come and see and…”

“Find yourself?” he offered.

She laughed a little. “Sounds pompous, doesn't it?”

“Not really. I've been lost before. It's not always easy getting found again.”

Erica tipped her head to one side and studied him. He looked so in control. So at home. So sure of himself, it was hard to imagine that he might have suffered self-doubt or anxiety. But she supposed everyone did from time to time. The trick was to not let those times get the best of you.

She turned around and let her gaze slide across the room that would be her home for who knew how long. There was a hallway off the living room that she assumed led to the bedroom and— “You said there was a stocked kitchen?”

“Yep.” He pointed. “Right through there.”

She went to investigate and off a short hall, she found a two-burner stove, a small refrigerator and several cupboards. The fridge was stocked with water, wine and soda along with fresh vegetables. There was a bowl of fruit on the abbreviated counter and she noticed that the window in the kitchen overlooked an English-style garden.

“You hungry?” Christian's voice came from directly behind her.

She turned around to look at him and admitted, “Actually, I am.”

“Why don't we go get some lunch downstairs? I can answer your questions and you can meet one of your brothers at the same time.”

That brother being Guy, she reminded herself. The chef. Well, that meeting just might kill her appetite, but gamely she said, “Give me one minute to freshen up and I'm ready.”

Ready for all of it, she added silently.

G
uy Jarrod had once been a sought-after chef, with a reputation of excellence, but when he opened his own restaurant, he'd stepped out from behind the stove so to speak. He'd learned to love the business of running the restaurant even more than he had the actual art of cooking.

Now, he hired and fired chefs, made sure everything ran the way he wanted it to. But being back at Jarrod Ridge doing what he did best hadn't been on his agenda. Trust his father to make sure he eventually got his way where his children were concerned…even if it meant he had to die to do it.

Still irritated at being managed from beyond the grave, Guy had to admit that running the five-star restaurant at the Ridge was turning out to be a better
gig than he'd expected it to be. He had big plans for the place.

Over the years, the restaurant and the general manager of the hotel had become, not lax, exactly, but complacent. They stayed with what worked rather than trying out new things. That was about to change.

All he had to do was get accustomed to being back here again.

“Excuse me, Mr. Jarrod?”

“What is it?” He looked up as one of the servers rushed into the wine cellar off the kitchen. A young kid who looked familiar, Guy hadn't had time to learn all their names yet.

“Mr. Hanford's in the dining room with a guest. He asked if you could come out to speak with them.”

Christian. Well, part of being back in Aspen was going to entail dealing with his brothers, his sister—sisters, he reminded himself sternly—and Christian. They'd been friends once, Guy reminded himself. Now, they were business colleagues all because of one old man's stubborn refusal to let go of his children.

“Fine. Tell him I'll be right there.” He left the wine cellar where he'd been taking a personal inventory—he wanted to know exactly what the restaurant had on hand and didn't trust anyone else to do it right.

That thought brought him up short. Maybe he was more like his old man than he'd ever thought.

He stalked through the kitchen, out into the main dining room, his gaze constantly shifting. He checked on the servers, on the table settings, on the flowers. He noticed the tablecloths and the flatware and the shine
on the silver and brass espresso machine. He had a sharp eye, no tolerance for sloppy work and he intended to make good use of those traits now that he was back running this place the way it always should have been run.

Guy spotted Christian sitting at a booth in the back. As he got closer, he saw that across from him was a trim, pretty brunette with amber eyes. She looked vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn't place her. Which meant, Guy thought suddenly,
this
was the long-lost sister they'd all been waiting to meet. Her familiarity was simply that she had something of the Jarrod family stamped on her features.

They hadn't noticed his approach yet, so he took that spare moment to observe her. Pretty, he thought again. But she looked on edge. And hell, who could blame her? All of them had been dragged back to Jarrod Ridge whether they liked it or not.

Yet she had the worst of it, he thought. At least he and his siblings had each other. She was the stranger in a strange land. Despite a flicker of sympathy for her, though, Guy agreed with his twin. A newly acknowledged sister didn't deserve an equal share of the estate.

 

Christian caught Guy's gaze as the man approached. He also noticed the appraising gleam in the man's eyes as he gave Erica a quick once-over. He knew Erica was nervous about this meeting, but Christian was glad she would be starting out by meeting Guy. This Jarrod
sibling had always had a cooler head than most of the others.

Well, except for Trevor. There wasn't much in life that shook Trevor.

“Christian, good to see you,” Guy said, but he wasn't looking at him. Instead the man's eyes were locked on Erica. “And you must be my new little sister.”

She flushed nervously, but she lifted her chin, stuck out her hand and said, “That's me. But I usually go by Erica.”

“Good one,” he said and shook her hand briefly. “So, you getting settled in?”

“I am, but I think it's going to take me a while to be able to find my way around.”

“I'm pretty sure the front desk has maps,” he said, giving her a smile. “What do you think of the Manor?”

“It's gorgeous,” she blurted, looking around the half-f dining room at the guests gathered there. “It must have been a wonderful place to grow up.”

“You'd think so, wouldn't you?” Guy tugged at the edge of the tablecloth, smoothing out a tiny wrinkle in the fine linen. “Christian told us you were in PR back in San Francisco.”

“Yes, I was.”

“That'll come in handy, then.” A server slipped up behind him, whispered something and then drifted away again. “I'm sorry. There's something in the kitchen I need to handle. Christian, good to see you again. Erica…” He shifted his gaze to hers and held it
for a long moment before smiling. “I'll be seeing you around.”

When he was gone, Erica blew out a breath.

“Wasn't so bad, was it?” Christian watched her as she reached for her water glass and took a sip. Guy could have been a little more welcoming, but on a scale of one to ten, ten being a warm hug and one a shotgun reception—he'd scored about a five.

“A little nerve-racking, but all in all, not bad,” she admitted. Then she asked, “What did Guy mean, my PR skill will come in handy?”

Christian had wanted to give her a day or two to get used to being here, but there was no point in putting things off. There was a lot coming up and since she was now expected to take her place in the Jarrod family, she might as well get her feet wet right away.

“The food and wine gala is coming up in a few weeks,” he said. “It's a big deal in Aspen. Held every year, lasts several weeks and has foodie and wine lovers in the country and in Europe coming into town to enjoy themselves.”

“I've read about it,” she said. “And seen some coverage on the news every year, too. It's practically a Mardi Gras type thing, isn't it?”

“Close enough,” he told her. “The city depends on the tourism dollars and the gala the Jarrods sponsor is a big part of that. As one of the Jarrods, you're right in the middle of this one.”

Her eyes went wide, but she nodded and said, “Tell me.”

Again, he had to admire how she was able to go with
the flow. She was strong, but she had the tendency to bend, not break. Most of the women he'd known in his life would still be sitting in San Francisco trying to come to terms with everything she'd dealt with in the last few days. Not Erica Prentice though. Once her decision was made, she gave it her all.

For a tiny thing, she was formidable.

Her gaze was locked on him and he found himself getting distracted by those amber depths. By the way she chewed at her bottom lip when she was thinking. Hell, he was distracted by her, period.

Grumbling to himself, his voice was brusque and businesslike as he said, “Your brother Trevor is the marketing expert. He's been running his own company right here in Aspen for years. Now, he's taking over the marketing for Jarrod Ridge.”

“Big job.”

“It is,” he said, “and so is yours. You'll be the new head of the Ridge's PR department.”

When she looked startled, he added, “You'll be working with Trevor directly on most of it. You'll have your own office at the Manor, so you'll be on site more often than Trevor. The two of you will probably see a lot of each other over the next few weeks.”

“Won't that be fun.”

Worry had crept into her voice again and he reminded her, “Trevor's pretty laid-back. He's not going to be a hard-ass, so nothing to worry about there.”

She took a deep breath. “Hope you're right about that.”

“I am. Just as I'm right about thinking you'll handle yourself well here.”

“Right into the deep end then?”

“Any reason to think you can't swim?” Christian asked and watched as she seemed to consider his question.

Finally, she shook her head, gave him a fierce, bright smile and said, “I'll swim.”

“I bet you will,” he said, staring at her as she picked up her leather-backed menu and perused the offerings. He wished to hell he didn't find her more and more intriguing with every passing minute. What was it about this one small, curvy woman that had his body tied up in knots and his brain overheating?

Was it the lure of the unattainable?

He didn't think so. There had been plenty of women when he was younger who had been out of his league. A townie kid with a single mom didn't really have the means to play in the ball games of the rich and famous. But he wasn't that kid anymore and he could have the pick of any woman he wanted.

What he couldn't figure out was why that didn't seem to matter.

The one woman he wanted was also the one woman he couldn't have.

 

Two hours later, Erica was alone in her suite. Sunset was deepening into twilight but here in her rooms, the lamplight was bright and she was too wrapped up in what she was doing to even notice the end of her first day in Colorado. Christian had gone back to work
after their early meal—excusing himself as quickly as possible with a claim of having to get some work done before morning. Once she was on her own, Erica had done a little exploring.

Now, she sat on the couch in her new living room and looked at all of the magazines, books, postcards and brochures she had spread out around her. She'd practically bought out the gift shop downstairs, buying up every item she could find pertaining directly to Jarrod Ridge.

And there had been plenty to choose from. The brochures listed every activity to be found at the resort and the book described the history of the place. She'd stared at the black-and-white photos of her grandparents and biological father with a fascination that had kept her captive for nearly twenty minutes. The grainy images of men in worn jeans and cowboy hats were so far removed from the tidy heritage she'd grown up hearing about, it was fascinating. She'd looked for resemblances between the people in those old pictures and herself and she'd found them. The shape of her eyes, the curve of her mouth. It was odd to see something of herself in people she had never met.

Yet in a weird way, it was almost comforting.

Her family was bigger than she'd ever imagined. They had been adventurers, dreamers. Men and women who had come to the middle of nowhere and built a life, a legacy that had lasted. Their dreams had grown and blossomed and had become something very special.

And she was a part of it.

A very small link in a lengthy chain.

When a knock sounded on her door, she was at first surprised, then a second later, a little worried about who might be dropping by. But then, she thought, it might be Christian. He might have decided to come back and take her on a little tour of the hotel. That thought spurred her off the couch and toward the front door. She fluffed her hair, smoothed her shirt and smiled to herself at the prospect of being with him again.

But when she opened the door, there was a woman standing there, holding two bottles of wine.

“Red or white?” she asked, walking past Erica into the living room.

“I'm sorry?” Confused, Erica just watched her.

“Red or white? Which do you prefer?”

“Uh, that depends, I guess…”

The woman grinned at her. “Good answer. I'm your sister, Melissa. And I've just stolen some wine from our brother Guy's private reserve so that you and I can get to know each other.”

Hard to feel out of sorts or uncomfortable with Melissa Jarrod beaming goodwill toward her. Although the woman did manage to make Erica feel a little frumpy in her wrinkled clothes. Melissa was wearing sleek black jeans, an off the shoulder, silk turquoise top and black sandals that were really nothing more than three slinky straps and a three-inch heel. Her long blond hair hung loose down her back and her wide blue eyes were sparkling with challenge and welcome.

“You stole the wine from Guy?” Erica repeated, closing the door, then turning to face her sister.

“Sure did. There may be hell to pay tomorrow, but tonight, we party.”

“That actually sounds like a great plan,” Erica said, smiling.

Melissa grinned right back. “Just so you know,” she said, “if we both drink it, we both face Guy's wrath. A united sister front.”

“Sisters,” Erica repeated.

Melissa wrinkled her nose then shrugged. “I know. Sounds weird still, doesn't it? Does to me, too. But I think you and I are going to make a terrific team.”

Erica felt a bit of her earlier tension slide off her shoulders. Looking into her sister's eyes, knowing that this welcome was genuine, made her feel that maybe making a home at Jarrod Ridge wasn't going to be as difficult as she had thought it would be.

“You know,” Erica said, “I think you're right. So, do you know if they stocked wineglasses in my new kitchen?”

Melissa led the way and threw back over her shoulder, “Since I'm the one who ordered the stocking done, I happen to know that wineglasses were first on the list.”

“Excellent,” Erica said following her into the tiny kitchen. “I'll make some popcorn, so let's start with the white. What do you think?”

Melissa set both bottles down onto the counter, then turned and held out her hand to Erica. “It's a good choice. Guy stocks the best sauvignon blanc anywhere in Colorado.”

“And how will he feel about us helping ourselves?”
Erica asked as she took Melissa's outstretched hand in hers for a shake.

Shrugging, Melissa said, “Guess we'll find out. Together?”

“Together,” Erica agreed and for the first time since she'd arrived in Colorado, felt that there was a real chance she would be able to make her own place there.