Home > Bedding The Secret Heiress (The Hightower Affairs #2)(11)

Bedding The Secret Heiress (The Hightower Affairs #2)(11)
Author: Emilie Rose

She tucked one foot beneath her in the chair. “I reached Mom, but she couldn’t talk. She claimed she had to be somewhere. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

The hell she would. A sting of curses silently reverberated through Gage’s head. Cutting Lauren off from the Internet had failed, and so had keeping her from contacting her mother.

“What do you need from your mother?” he asked.

She blinked at his unintentionally harsh tone and glanced away. “Answers.”

He recognized evasion when he saw it. He’d mastered that particular skill. “What kind of answers?”

Lauren’s teal gaze met his again. “She chose not to be my mother for twenty-five years. It would be nice to know why she changed her mind now.”

That wasn’t all. He could tell by her guarded expression that she was hiding something. What? And how could he uncover her secrets?

“You told me she’d always been a part of your life.”

“Not as a parent. She was my father’s…friend. She flew in once a year around my birthday and stayed for a week, but she spent most of her time with my father. I didn’t mind, because during her stay he was always happier than at any other time of the year. He loved her. Too bad she didn’t feel the same.”

There was an edge in Lauren’s voice that he couldn’t quite decipher. She studied the burgundy liquid in her glass then looked up at him through narrowed eyes. “I talked to the mechanic this afternoon. Someone removed the fuse from the receiver that provides Internet access on the plane. It wasn’t blown or broken. It was taken. Why would anyone do that?”

“Good question.” And one he had no intention of answering since the action had been taken at his request.

Five

The city of San Francisco was waiting and Lauren was eager to hit the sidewalks and explore.Trying to shake off the lingering tiredness her shower hadn’t completely banished, she tightened the belt of the fluffy short white robe the B and B provided and stowed her toiletry items in her bag. She’d slept until six this morning, which was late for her because she usually had to be in the air by then, and given the time difference, she should have been up hours ago.

She blamed her sluggishness on all the tossing and turning she’d done last night. Her bedroom shared a wall with Gage’s, and he must have stayed up late. She’d heard him moving around as if he were pacing, and a couple of times his deep voice had carried through the wall behind her headboard. Who had he been talking to at that time of night?

She opened the bathroom door and shuffled across the landing. Gage’s bedroom door opened before she reached her room, and he stepped into the hall. Her muscles locked up. She’d forgotten their single rooms shared a hall bathroom.

Against her will she drank in his mussed hair, sleepy brown eyes, beard-shadowed jaw and broad, bare-chested, seriously well-developed body. The man worked out. Shoulders, biceps, pecs and abs like that didn’t happen by accident.

Black trousers, probably from yesterday’s suit, rode low on his hips, transecting a dark line of hair that descended from between his n**ples to below his navel. His big feet were bare, his toes long and straight. Like her, he held a toiletry bag.

He belonged on a sexy Corporate Hotties pin-up calendar. Her pulse whumped in her ears like helicopter blades, and she couldn’t seem to suck enough air into her lungs. It took a substantial effort to uncurl her toes. “G-good morning.”

His eyes sharpened on her face then slowly descended to the plunging neckline of the wraparound robe and on to her bare legs and feet. Other than the slight expansion of his pupils, his expression gave nothing away. A guy with his money was probably used to models and beauty queens rather than tomboys who wore jeans and no makeup. Not that she cared.

“Morning.” The sleep-roughened voice rasped over her, making the fine hairs on her arms rise.

Conscious of her wet hair, freshly scrubbed face and near nak*dness, she clutched her travel bag to her chest. “I’m, uh…done. The bathroom’s all yours.”

To get to the bathroom he had to pass close by her. She caught a faint whiff of his cologne as the air stirred, but mostly she smelled Gage—slightly musky male. The close confines of a cockpit made someone’s scent easily identifiable. Arousal flushed her skin and tightened her n**ples, leaving her hot and bothered and wanting to shed the heavy robe. But that would have to wait until she’d shut the door behind her.

“Excuse me.” She darted across the hall, not relaxing until she’d closed and locked the wooden panel between them. Knees weak, she sagged against the hard surface.

Why him? Why did Gage Faulkner agitate every feminine particle in her being into a whirlwind of certain disaster? It wasn’t fair that the one guy she least wanted to be attracted to would affect her so strongly. But that didn’t mean she’d be stupid and act on the bad mojo.

She listened for sounds from the hall while she hastily pulled on jeans and layered a sweater over her T-shirt then shoved her feet into sneakers. After she heard Gage reenter his room, she grabbed her jacket, wallet and computer backpack and jogged down the stairs.

Esmé met her in the foyer. “Good morning, dear. I’ve set up the breakfast buffet in the dining room. Help yourself.”

Lauren debated skipping breakfast. She wanted to be gone before Gage came downstairs, but her loudly rumbling stomach vetoed that idea. “Thanks.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”

Lauren nodded and headed for the ornately decorated burgundy dining room. Yesterday morning after Gage had headed for the job site, Esmé and Leon had given Lauren a guided tour and history of the house. Her hosts’ passion for their restoration project showed the hard work had been a true labor of love.

It wasn’t until after Lauren had left for the Internet café that she’d realized the couple had pried more personal details out of her than she’d ever shared with anyone else, and Lauren hadn’t even seen it coming. But that was okay. Her hosts were harmless. They would never use what they’d learned against her. Unlike Gage, who probably used every tidbit of information as a weapon in his arsenal.

Lauren shook her head as she cut through the doily-and-lace-accented living room. Surprisingly, she liked the house. The decor was frilly and feminine and a bit over the top—a huge contrast to the unadorned home she’d shared with her father. There’d been no time, interest or money for superfluities. The Lynch household had been all about practicality and purpose.

Her father’s no-nonsense nature was one of the reasons she knew he wouldn’t have purposely killed himself…unless he’d truly believed the life insurance money would have paid off Falcon Air’s debts.

Oh, Dad, why did you borrow so much against the company?

Suppressing the stab of grief, she grabbed a plate from the sideboard. Worrying and second-guessing wouldn’t solve anything, and even if she could eventually get her mother to sit still long enough to fill in the blanks, the FAA’s investigation would likely determine whether or not her father’s life insurance paid out. If it didn’t…

She didn’t want to think about that, didn’t want to think about losing Falcon Air or what she and Lou would do without the company that had been everything to them. Lou hadn’t worked anywhere else since before Lauren had been born, and he was a bit set in his ways. Starting over at sixty would be difficult for him if he could find a job.

Her stomach twisted, whether from hunger or nerves or both, she couldn’t be sure. But she couldn’t resist the delicious-smelling selection on the sideboard. Her mouth watered in anticipation of sampling the crisp bacon, maple sausage, vegetable-filled mini omelets and silver-dollar pancakes topped with cinnamon apples.

Grimacing at the obscene amount of food she’d piled on her plate, she carried it to the table. She’d just lifted her fork when Gage walked in wearing one of his perfectly fitting suits, this one in charcoal with a smoke-gray shirt and a black patterned tie.

He swept her with those dark eyes. “You’ll have to change.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. “Why?”

“Because you’re coming with me.”

Definitely not what she wanted to hear. She’d only seen a tiny corner of San Francisco. “I thought we weren’t flying out until Monday.”

“We’re going to the computer component plant I’ve come to assess. If you’re studying business management, then you need to view the principles firsthand and see if you’ve learned enough to apply your book knowledge.”

The idea both attracted and repelled her. She was eager to learn anything that might help her untangle Falcon Air’s financial issues when she returned home. Yesterday while she’d been sitting in the coffee shop she’d done a little Web surfing research on her passenger. According to three major business magazines, Gage was reportedly one of the best corporate troubleshooters in the country.

Maybe he could help her with Falcon?

No. He was looking for something to discredit her, and he was her brother’s spy. Trent didn’t need the kind of ammo Falcon’s iffy finances would provide to use against her.

The chemistry between her and Gage was an additional complication, especially now that she’d seen him half-naked. Wasn’t it bad enough that she relived that kiss every time she closed her eyes? Now she’d see him shirtless, too. She’d bet a tank of fuel that reel would replay in her head.

Spending the day with him was too risky.

“That’s an interesting idea, Gage, but I have other plans.”

“You’ll go.” His flat, don’t-argue-with-me tone raised her hackles and stirred her temper.

She looked at the breakfast she no longer wanted then at the man she wanted nothing to do with. Was this one of those commands Trent had insisted she comply with? “I take it no isn’t an option?”

“Correct.” Gage crossed to the buffet. While he filled his plate she debated calling her half brother and screaming at him. It wouldn’t accomplish anything. She knew Trent would take sides—and it wouldn’t be hers. But venting would make her feel better. Unfortunately, dramatic hissy fits had never been her style.

But damn her half brother for putting her in this position. Shadowing clients was not in her job description. In fact, under normal circumstances, she would have dumped her passenger in San Francisco, gone back on the assignment roster and returned to pick Gage up three days later. HAMC pilots did not sit around and twiddle their thumbs while their clients worked multiday deals. The flight crews filled the hours of their five-days-on-five-days-off schedules flying other customers.

“And if I don’t want to go with you?”

“Why would you pass on the chance to see your textbook theories put into practice unless you’re not really interested in learning?”

Something about his tone rubbed her the wrong way. “What are you insinuating?”

“That perhaps you’re playing at being a student until a better opportunity comes along.”

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