The Reluctant Heir. HelenKay Dimon

      “Since you seem determined to stalk me, no. For the record, I’m not into that.” Or being unsure or off-kilter or vulnerable. None of those feelings worked for her, even though they all raced through her now as she tried not to notice how the wind brought a sexy rush of color to his cheeks.

      “I wanted to apologize for just dropping in on you last night.”

      Sure he did. “By dropping in on me this morning.”

      The corner of his mouth lifted even higher, showing off that arresting smile. “Now that you mention it, I guess this visit wasn’t all that well thought-out either.”

      She studied him, letting her gaze wander over that mouth before giving him full-on eye contact. The cute, self-deprecating act held a certain charm, but she knew it was just an act. No longer a carefree boy, he was a man who possessed power and money. In her experience, the Jamesons used both of those as a weapon against others.

      Then there was the more obvious problem. “How did you know where to find me at this time of the morning?”

      His mouth opened and closed twice.

      She cleared her throat. “I’m waiting.”

      “Yeah, I can see that.”

      She knew stalling when she heard it. Heck, she excelled at that sort of thing. He couldn’t fool her. “Feel free to use words.”

      He made a strangled noise that sounded like hmm. “I’m going to be honest with you.”

      “That would be nice.” Not that she’d believe whatever he said, but it would be interesting to see what subterfuge he tried to use on her.

      He unzipped his coat, just enough for her to see the V-neck of the blue sweater underneath. “I had a friend back at the Jameson office look into you.”

      Look into? Creative word choice. “You mean, investigate me.”

      “I didn’t say that.”

      That was kind of her point. “So, you had one of your employees not investigate me.”

      “I don’t actually work for Jameson Industries.”

      “Uh-huh.” It was as if he didn’t know his own last name or for some reason thought the verbal gymnastics would work on her. Either way, she wasn’t buying it. “I often call up places where I don’t work and get people to scurry around, looking stuff up for me in the middle of the night.”

      “It does seem to lack credibility when you say it that way.”

      “Is there another way to say it?”

      She hated to admit that she was enjoying this steady back-and-forth that had her mind clicking.

      After months of reeling and mourning, she still kept to herself, not letting anyone she met move past the acquaintance stage and into the friend stage. Not dating. She blamed her time away from the friendship and dating pool as the reason for the adrenaline surging through her now.

      Not a new round of attraction. Nope, that could not happen.

      “I called in a favor, but that’s not the point.” He held up a hand when she started to respond. “Initially, I assumed coming here and handing you an envelope would get the job done. When it became clear that wasn’t going to happen, I decided I needed to know more about you.”

      She folded her arms in front of her. “Because that’s not heavy-handed at all.”

      “I wanted to know more about you. About who you are now.” With that, his eyes wandered—not far and not too obvious—but he did give her a quick once-over.

      She hated that her stomach tumbled in response. She vowed to ignore the effect seeing him after all this time still had on her. The weird bubbling giddiness, the feeling of not being good enough or pretty enough. All those sensations she’d felt as a teen still battled inside her, which she found truly ridiculous. Getting older should have made her immune to him and all those stupid insecurities.

      Guilt swamped her. He’d abandoned her sister and her own failure to stick up for Gena, to hold the line and not feel anything for him, was nothing short of a betrayal to her sister. Gena had talked about Carter leaving and his father sniffing around, trying to figure out what Carter had meant to her. She’d warned Hanna to be careful and not trust them.

      Hanna tried to hold on to all of that advice and mistrust, to funnel what had been her sister’s pain and her own frustration, into a defensive shield against Carter. To question every word he said and bury that leftover attraction down deep, but it kept bubbling back to the surface.

      Some of the lightness left his face. “You’ve changed.”

      The words and his seemingly innocent delivery had her anger spiking. Heat raged through her. After all those years of ignoring her, he pretended he had some insight into her then and now. “Did we know each other well enough for you to make that assessment?”

      “I remember the Hanna who would run around the Virginia property and get into everything. Climbing fences and trying to play on the equipment.” He shoved his hands in his dark gray jeans pockets and focused that intense stare on her.

      She didn’t flinch. “You mean the same Virginia property I wasn’t allowed to visit after my dad died?”

      His eyes narrowed. “What?”

      Years before Hanna lost her sister, she lost her father. Her parents had long been divorced but her mom had been listed as her father’s heir and tried to go to the cottage he lived in on the Jameson estate. Her mother never talked about what happened during the visit, but she came back with clothes and a few personal items and that was all.

      Hanna knew more existed. Her father had kept a journal. He’d been a faithful employee at the estate for decades. He’d built a life there, had friends and people who worked for him and respected him.

      He died on the job at that stupid Virginia estate and her mother had gotten excuses and two duffel bags filled with dirty shirts.

      Carter shrugged. “Okay. Visit Virginia now.”

      He seemed as surprised to have said the words as she’d been to hear them. “Sure, I’ll just use the key I don’t have and go into the house I’m not allowed to visit in the state I don’t live in.”

      “Maybe the envelope is an invitation to visit.”

      “You think after all this time your father is willing to hand over my father’s property and wrote to tell me?”

      “I can’t explain my father’s actions, but I can offer to help now. If you don’t want anything to do with him or the envelope, then deal with me. Come back to Virginia and get whatever you need.”

      Temptation tugged at her. She could go to the property and maybe get some answers to all those questions about her father’s death. About how a man so skilled could fall off a ladder and die. But that meant trusting Carter and possibly running in to Eldrick. It meant owing them, and she’d vowed never to do that.

      Breaking eye contact, Carter glanced around. His gaze moved over the tables with the chairs stacked on the tops, and the shelves of merchandise. It hesitated on the espresso machine. “You must have vacation days.”

      If he’d looked into her background, he already knew the answer. But, fine. They could play this game.

      “I’m not a full-time employee.” She lifted her chin because she was not going to hide who she was or what she did to earn a living. “I clean houses and buildings. It’s what I do so that I can eat.”

      “Sure. Okay.”

      “Sometimes I also take shifts here, usually nights and weekends when the college kids who work here would rather go out.”

      He shrugged again. “Makes sense.”

      The casual acceptance