She retrieved a sippy cup of milk and a couple of bottles of water from the fridge. Politeness demanded she offer her “guest” a drink and she did so ungraciously by plunking a bottle down on the counter in silent offering to the man who took up far too much space in her kitchen. She twisted the cap off her own. After chugging half the icy liquid, she pulled out a cutting board and started Rhett’s dinner.
“So talk.” She kept a wary eye on Kincaid.
He transferred the unopened water bottle from one long-fingered hand to the other and back again like a metronome. “Rhett will inherit one-quarter share of my—our—father’s estate.”
The knife slipped from her grip and hit the stainless sink with a loud clank. Everett Kincaid had been a billionaire. Anyone who read the newspaper knew that. Kincaid Cruise Lines was a huge firm that for years had been voted one of the top five places in the country to work.
“You’re kidding me.”
“No.” That bitten out word carried hidden nuances Carly couldn’t begin to decipher.
Maybe Everett wasn’t the lecherous miser Carly thought him to be if he’d made arrangements for his son. She retrieved the knife, rinsed it and then focused on cutting bite-size pieces of bananas, grapes and cheese without severing a digit. “Go on.”
“The condition is that Rhett must reside in Kincaid Manor for one full year to claim his share.”
It took a second for that to sink in. And when it did, her heart slammed against her chest and her nerves snarled.
Feeling as if she’d swallowed a bucket of wet sand, she swung around to face Mitch Kincaid. “You want to take him from me.”
“I’ll make it worth your while.”
She blinked and shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“I’ll pay you one hundred thousand dollars for your trouble. The same amount my father paid your sister to have an abortion.”
No. Carly sucked a quick breath. Marlene had done a few questionable things over the years, but Carly couldn’t believe her sister would stoop so low as to accept money for an abortion and then not have one. Besides, Marlene had been thrilled about her pregnancy and overjoyed at Rhett’s birth. She would never have considered ending it.
But then Carly remembered Marlene’s plan to coerce Everett into marriage and she wasn’t as certain Mitch was lying as she’d like to be. That notebook had revealed an unattractive side of her sister that Carly hadn’t known existed.
“Marlene didn’t have that kind of money.”
“I have proof she did. She lived with you for the last fifteen months of her life. You had to have seen evidence of her windfall.” The last word dripped sarcasm. “You probably even benefited from it.”
Indignant, she snapped erect. “I did not. And I don’t know about any money.”
Rhett pounded on his tray, jerking Carly back to the present. She numbly carried him his food.
Mitch Kincaid had to be lying. If Marlene had taken the money, then what had she done with it? She certainly hadn’t spent it. Her living expenses after she quit her job as an air hostess for a corporate jet service had been negligible because, as Mitch pointed out, Marlene had moved in with Carly. Afterward the formerly sociable Corbin sister had rarely left the house until after Rhett’s birth. She’d claimed it was because she was heartbroken over Everett’s betrayal and his refusal to acknowledge his child.
Could Marlene have taken the money and used it for hospital bills? Carly made a mental note to ask the attorney how one went about tracing things like that.
“I don’t believe you, and I’m not loaning this child to you.”
“I’m not asking to borrow him. I’m offering to take over as his guardian. You’ll be free to go about your life unencumbered.”
Déjà vu. Her heart clenched in horror and a chill enveloped her. The words sounded eerily similar to those she’d heard twelve years ago. She fought the urge to pull Rhett from his chair and hold him close.
“I love Rhett. I don’t consider him an encumbrance. And my sister wanted me to raise him.”
“As a struggling single parent?”
“If necessary.”
“C’mon, Carly, you’re young, single and attractive. Why would you want to be saddled with someone else’s brat?”
Her brain snagged on attractive, but repudiated brat. Then she recalled how scraggly she looked after a five-mile run. Clearly Kincaid was willing to say whatever it took to get what he wanted.
“I was there when Rhett was born, when he cut his first tooth, said his first word and took his first step. God willing, I’ll be there for every other milestone. I’m not giving him up.”
“I can offer the boy more than you can.” His supercilious gaze encompassed her outdated kitchen.
“My house may not be up to Kincaid standards, but it’s safe and childproofed and full of love. I have a huge fenced backyard.” She hated that she sounded defensive. She had nothing to prove to this jerk.
“What does a physical therapist make these days? Sixty, seventy grand a year?”
He knew what she did and how much she made. The knowledge sent a prickle of apprehension over her. How did he know? “None of your busin—”
“That’s nothing compared to the roughly one point two-five billion Rhett will inherit if he comes with me.”
“Billion?” she squeaked.
“Not in cash. Most of the assets aren’t liquid,” he clarified. “Either he moves in with me or he gets nothing.”
Light-headed and growing queasier by the second, Carly sank into a chair. How could she deprive her nephew of the inheritance he so rightly deserved, one that would set him up so that he’d never want for anything?
But how could she let him go?
She couldn’t. Carly had promised Marlene that if anything happened to her, she’d raise Rhett and love him—love him the way she’d never been allowed to love her own daughter.
Mitch Kincaid wasn’t offering love. Other than that first searching glance, he’d barely looked at Rhett and had yet to touch him.
She took a deep breath and tried to think logically. Marlene had yearned for Everett to acknowledge his son, and now, better late than never, he had. Maybe there was a way to make this work. “I need to speak to my attorney. And I’ll need a copy of the will.”
Kincaid’s mouth tightened with impatience. “We have a limited amount of time to implement my father’s terms, Ms. Corbin. What will it take? Five hundred thousand for your trouble?”
At first she thought he was joking, then realized from the hard glint in his eyes and the harsh angle of his jaw that he was serious. Carly gaped at him. He honestly wanted to buy her nephew. Worse, he thought she’d sell Rhett. The idea infuriated her.
No wonder Marlene had called Everett’s son a dirty, conniving rat bastard.
“You’re out of your mind. You can’t buy and sell people.”
“A million?” He ignored her comment and extracted a checkbook and pen from the jacket draped over his arm as if writing a million-dollar check was no big deal.
She rose on shaky legs. “Rhett isn’t for sale, Mr. Kincaid. You need to leave.”
Rhett chose that moment to cackle with glee and squish bananas through his fingers. And then the little urchin clutched fistfuls of his hair, moussing the silky strands with the banana mush. “Unless you’d like to help with cleanup.”
Kincaid backed away as if a sewage spill threatened his polished shoes. He reached into his coat pocket again and this time withdrew a business card that he laid on the counter next to his unopened water. “I’ll have a copy of the will couriered over immediately. Talk to your lawyer tomorrow and call me.”
He turned on his heel. Brisk footsteps retreated, then the front door opened and closed.
Carly looked at her adorable nephew and her chest ached. “Oh, Rhett. What are we going to do? I can’t lose you.”
She dampened a washcloth and attacked his messy hands and face. “But you deserve a share of your daddy’s estate. And I’m going to see that you get it.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Marie, Mitch’s personal assistant, said from the boardroom entrance, “but there’s a Carly Corbin downstairs insisting on seeing you. She doesn’t have an appointment.”About time.
“Show her to my office.” After Marie left, Mitch stood and looked down the table at his brother. “Three days. It took her three days to cave. The question is how much is this little bastard going to cost us? I’ll be back.”
Rand waved him on. “Take your time. I’ll handle the next applicant for Nadia’s position and then grab lunch.”
The damned will had left Mitch with an interminable number of complications. His sister had been banished to Dallas to house-sit as required by her inheritance clause. Her sudden absence only increased his workload. He had to find her temporary replacement, and he had his brother’s help whether he wanted it or not, thanks to dear ol’ dad making Rand CEO instead of Mitch. That irritated Mitch like a sliver of glass stuck in his foot.
Rand had abandoned the business. Hell, his brother hadn’t even spoken to anyone in the family in five years. Five years during which Mitch had busted his ass to prove he was worthy of taking the reins of KCL when his father retired.
But Dad had wanted Rand back and in charge.
Mitch entered his office through the connecting door to the boardroom. Before he could sit down Marie showed in his guest.
Carly barely acknowledged his presence with a brief nod before her wide brown eyes gazed past him to scan the thirty-foot wall of windows and the view of Biscayne Bay behind him.
He stiffened. Women didn’t overlook him. It wasn’t conceit to admit that his wealth wasn’t his only asset. But Carly didn’t seem interested in his face or body. Ignoring the jab to his pride, he took advantage of her inattention to assess her.
Her features weren’t classically beautiful. But close enough. Her br**sts were decent. Neither too big nor too small. Probably real. She wore a bubble gum-pink tracksuit with black stripes down the length of her legs. Killer legs, he recalled from their last meeting. Too bad she’d covered them today. Getting another look would have been a nice bonus to closing the deal.
Overall, Carly was nice-looking. Not traffic-stopping. But interesting. Until she smiled. That smile of hers could melt bricks. She wasn’t smiling today.
Since she was an identical twin, he could see why his father had been attracted to her sister. But damnation, couldn’t the man have practiced safe sex after preaching about it for decades? Or had Marlene Corbin had something to do with the birth control failure? Mitch would bet money on it. His father had made a number of mistakes, but he hadn’t been stupid.
Carly’s gaze finally returned to Mitch. A weird paralysis seized his lungs. He fought it off. “Do we have a deal, Ms. Corbin?”
“Rhett can move into Kincaid Manor,” she stated matter-of-factly.
Victory surged through him. He pulled his checkbook from his interior coat pocket. “Excell—”