What Belongs to Her (Harlequin Superromance) (11 page)

CHAPTER TEN

S
ASHA
PEDALED
HER
bike as fast as possible through the Templeton town center and out toward the cottages of Melonworth Drive. She zigzagged expertly between cars and other traffic, waving to the people who raised their hands in friendly greeting. She’d woken that morning more focused than ever to do something positive toward buying the fair before she had to face John the next day.

She scowled through her sunglasses. She needed more of a plan than her offer of money and relying on John’s occasional good nature. The alluring combination of hurt and confusion he frequently had going on in those blue eyes wasn’t even funny. He held far too much power in his gaze whenever he looked at her. She had to keep focused. Until he accepted her offer, or she came up with an alternative plan of action, he was the enemy.

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
Just not as close as her nocturnal dreams had implied. She swallowed as her body tingled with desire.

The insecurity that erupted inside her during their final moments in his office last night had been nothing short of terrifying. He’d suddenly stopped his ranting, and instead, his demeanor and soft study of her had turned intense with concern. His gaze bored into her as though she were an enigma...one there was every possibility he would figure out far too quickly.

He seemed to look past the exterior and deep into her soul.

So much so, it scared her that her childhood abuse was painted on her skin, entirely visible to those who cared enough to see it. That couldn’t happen. She didn’t want people to know. Didn’t want her abuse to be who she was...only something that happened to her.

Memories assaulted Sasha as she fought to concentrate on the road ahead. Yet, she’d never deny the reality of those days. The thrill she’d felt having a man’s attention at almost thirteen. The shiver of excitement at his smile. The knot in her stomach when he told her she was beautiful. She couldn’t deny she’d felt any of those things, because she’d felt every one.

Then came the darkness.

The locked door of the warehouse and the lingering stench of oil on his hand when he clamped it over her mouth. The moment when the touching went from tender to terrifying...

She released a slow breath to steady the roar of remembered horror. Faster and faster she pedaled, purposefully banishing the terror of her past. She wouldn’t go there. She wouldn’t let John’s arrival make her feel it all over again.

Today, she’d take action and set the preliminaries of her plan in motion. It was paramount she understood where she
and
John stood legally. So, for the first time, she’d arranged to consult a lawyer. Turning off a main road, Sasha entered the quieter part of town. When she passed the gates of the Good Time Holiday Park, her fortitude soared. After the effects of the devastating flash flood last year, the park was due to reopen this summer. The staff and people of Templeton had worked tirelessly to get the park back to its former glory and now it shone brighter than ever.

The clubhouse and restaurant had been refitted and renovated, and new caravans, donated from holiday home businesses across the country, dotted the park with their shiny newness. The people of Templeton Cove were rarely beaten. She wouldn’t be, either.

She had no legal claim to Funland and the clause was the biggest obstacle to overcome, but she needed to be absolutely sure of her options. In her backpack was the original sale agreement between Kyle and her grandfather. She hoped something in it might provide the tiniest loophole she could utilize to put a stop to John’s potentially destructive tour of her life.

Turning into a pretty avenue of cottages, she rolled to a stop outside the third cottage on the right and alighted her bike. Pushing open the gate, Sasha steered her bike along the short pathway to the door and stowed it against the side of the house. The brightly colored daffodils and pansies in the small front garden did nothing to elevate her dark mood. She inhaled a shaky breath and removed her helmet. Her hand trembled when she smoothed her low ponytail and adjusted her jacket.

I can do this. I can show John he’s messing with the wrong girl.

Lifting her chin, she approached the front door and lifted the iron knocker.

A cacophony of barking dogs ensued before a mumbled admonishment was uttered and the door swung open. Liam Browne, her older sister’s onetime boyfriend, was a kind and handsome man, three years her senior. His face broke into a wide smile. “Hey, you.”

Sasha relaxed her shoulders and smiled. She’d done the right thing in coming. Liam would help her...if he could. “Hey, yourself. Thanks for seeing me.”

“Anytime. You know that.” He stood back and, with a wave of his hand, gestured her inside.

She stepped into the cottage, and he closed the door. Sasha glanced around the dark wood hallway. Landscape prints and photographs dotted the walls and an antique bookcase filled with leather-bound books dominated one wall. Her gaze wandered toward the polished staircase, its banister gleaming under the sunlight streaming through the landing window. “This is beautiful, Liam.”

He smiled. “Thanks. Sometimes I think I have too much crammed into this little space, but it works for me.”

“It’s great.” She smiled. “Really welcoming.”

She imagined Liam’s home to be a complete antithesis of John’s. The man probably lived next door to HRH Prince Charles’s country estate.

Liam’s dogs—a black Labrador, a Border collie and a tiny Jack Russell—pushed and brushed against her, their mouths stretched into welcoming grins, their tongues lolling and their eyes bright.

“Well, good morning to you, too.” She petted each of their heads, laughing as they shoved each other out of the way, vying for her attention. She glanced at Liam. “Guess you’ve constantly got your hands full with this lot.”

“Sure do.” He grinned. “Do you want a coffee or something before we go through to my office?”

Sasha straightened and shook her head. “I’m fine. Just eager to get started.”

He nodded and tilted his head toward the far end of the hallway. “In that case, follow me.”

She followed him along the hallway to a room at the back of the house, the dogs panting at her legs. Once inside his office, Sasha wandered close to the window. “Wow, that’s one beautiful garden. Your handiwork, by any chance?”

“I’ll only say yes if you promise not to tell anyone. A man who spends most of his spare time gardening and planting coordinating flowers and bulbs isn’t often considered a sexual catch by the female population.”

She turned and smiled. “You, Liam Browne, are a catch and a half. Look at this place. As for you? You’re thirty years old, one of the top criminal lawyers in the southwest and possess looks that would give some Hollywood stars a run for their money.”

“Flatterer.” His smile faltered. “Shame your sister didn’t think so. How is Tanya, by the way?”

Silently cussing her too often snooty sister, Sasha stepped from the window and sat in one of the two chairs by his desk. She blew out a breath. “Living in Poole...alone with her high-flying banking career. Tanya’s not a lot different than Mum. She thinks our Romany background is an embarrassment, rather than something to be proud of.” She gave him a soft smile. “Her leaving wasn’t about you.”

He lifted his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter.”

Hating the uncomfortable silence that fractured the previously pleasant atmosphere, Sasha cleared her throat and glanced at the dogs as they each settled in one of three baskets by the window. “So, did you get a chance to read over the copy of Granddad’s contract I emailed you?”

Liam sat in the leather chair behind his desk and pulled some sheets of paper from his top tray. “I did.”

She leaned forward, her stomach knotting in anticipation. “And?”

“It’s not good news.” He slid on a pair of dark-framed glasses and met her gaze. “It’s all pretty much there in black and white. Unless I’d heard it from you, I wouldn’t have believed Kyle Jordon and his lawyer had drawn up the contract. It’s fair and it’s clean. There’s nothing untoward or out of the ordinary. Your grandfather wasn’t swindled or coerced into anything beyond the reasonable. I’m sorry.”

“Unless you consider the price Kyle paid for the place. That wasn’t reasonable.”

“Maybe not, but it was your grandfather’s choice.”

“And the clause? The one saying it can’t be sold back to my family?”

He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “I’m a criminal lawyer and that’s contractual. Do you want me to look into it? What are you thinking?”

She blew out a breath. “More hoping than thinking.”

He lifted an eyebrow in question.

Sasha frowned. “I never understood why Granddad sold it for so little. He loved Funland, yet all of a sudden he sold it at a rock-bottom price to the town’s criminal mastermind. Add that clause, and the whole thing stinks to high heaven. I’m hoping that now Funland is Kyle’s son’s in its entirety, the clause is invalid...and I just have to convince John it’s my right to buy it back into my family.”

“Hmm. It might not make sense, but everything in that contract is completely aboveboard.” He plucked a pen from a leather-bound pot on his desk. “I’ll make a note to look into it for you. I’m pretty sure you’re right and it’s up to Kyle’s son what he does with it.” He scribbled on a legal pad and met her eyes. “Just take into account, there will be some hefty tax payable at some point...whether by you or Kyle’s son.”

Her heart kicked. “I’ll deal with that when I have to. I’m running out of options other than biding my time and waiting to see what John does next.” She slapped her hand onto the armrest. “I can’t stand this.”

“I did a little research into the circumstances of Kyle’s arrest.”

Sasha stared at him as curiosity—and more than a little apprehension—shot through her. “He’s been inside for about a year now. What did you find out?”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“Tell me.”

He gave a sympathetic grimace. “His sole heir, and the current thorn in your side, is the named beneficiary and entitled to the entirety of Kyle’s immoral fortune. Everything.”

Sasha’s eyes grew wide.
“Everything?”

“Yep. If Kyle has handed over his estate to his son, I estimate John Jordon is now worth in excess of four-point-two million pounds. Plus the properties Kyle owns here, in London and abroad are his son’s, as well.”

“Oh, my God.”

Liam stared, his gaze somber. “When Kyle was arrested, he was caught with a cache of class A drugs amounting to a street value of half a million. The rest, everything else that might or might not have gone on before then, was inadmissible in court and so Kyle couldn’t be charged. Taking into account what he’s worth, the criminal liability for the cache was soon recovered through his possessions....”

“And the rest was his to keep...or give to John.”

“Exactly.”

“When will Kyle be released? Do you know?”

“He was sentenced to sixteen years. If he behaves himself, he’ll more than likely be out in eight.”

“Eight years for that kind of offense?”

Liam lifted his shoulders and removed his glasses, a frown line spearing the space between his brows. “There’s only so much that can be done with regards to drug seizing and the following arrests. It’s frustrating, but the police and lawyers like me are doing the best we can. What’s his son like? Do I need to come to the fair and start throwing my weight around?” He winked.

Sasha smiled as John’s face—and huge, masculine stature—appeared in her mind’s eye. “He’s...all right, I suppose. That’s half the problem.”

“Oh?” He gave her a knowing look. “You don’t like the guy, do you?”

She huffed out a laugh. “Of course not. He’s a pompous pain in the ass.”

Liam grinned. “Sure he is.”

“Liam...”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m just saying. It’s not very often I see you blush. It’s kind of nice.”

She pushed to her feet. “One, I am not blushing and two, I need to get out of here and think of a plan B.”

He stood, a soft smile still playing at his lips. “There’s nothing wrong with a bit of play and a little less work every now and then, you know.”

She hitched her backpack onto her shoulder and glared. “If I wanted to
play,
it wouldn’t be with John Jordon.”
Yeah, right.

He laughed. “Fair enough. I’ll believe you even if millions of others wouldn’t.”

“I’m going. Now. Before I’m forced to hurt you.” She smiled and headed for the door.

He followed her along the hallway, and after she opened the front door, Sasha turned and hugged him. She held him firmly and spoke into his shirt. “You’re too good for Tanya. Way too good. Get out there and find a woman who deserves you, okay?”

“I’m trying.” He squeezed her before pulling back and holding her at arm’s length. “So, what’s plan B?”

“I’ll figure something out because there’s no way I’m losing the fair to a Jordon.” She swallowed the abrupt threat of tears. “I don’t know anything but Funland. I don’t
want
to know anything else. The thought of leaving Templeton and doing a job sitting behind a desk or in a shop scares me half to death. It would chip away at my soul until I was nothing but a shell. The fair was meant to be mine and whatever has happened, or will happen, I’m not letting it go.”

She eased from his grip and walked out of the cottage. Pulling her bike from the side of the house, she mounted it before she looked at Liam. “You take care.”

“It might be a good thing to tell this John Jordon what you’ve just told me, you know.”

Sasha frowned. “Tell him what?”

“That without the fair you wouldn’t be you. Who knows, it might be that sort of honesty that tips the scales with this guy.”

Nausea dipped and flowed through her stomach as Sasha secured her helmet in place. “John Jordon is in no state of mind to take anything I have to say into account.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s determined to find out who his father is, despite the fact he can’t stand the man. They’re estranged and, from what I can tell, John is entirely pissed at Kyle.”