Heiress Recon. Carla Cassidy

change and I’m not particularly judgmental.” The toast popped up and he grabbed the pieces to butter. “You and I both come from the same background of privilege. Some of us take our wealth and the opportunities it provides us to build something positive with it. Others lead lives of excess and go nowhere.”

      “And because you’ve seen a couple of pictures of me in the tabloids, you think you know all about me?”

      He scooped up the eggs, prepared them each a plate, then set hers in front of her and joined her at the table.

      “You aren’t as smart as you look, repo man.” She picked up a piece of the toast and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully as her gaze remained focused on him. “If you think those photographs that capture just a second of my life are the total sum of me, then you have a bigger problem than you realize.”

      He released a small sigh. “Look, I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. I don’t want to spend the next four days trading insults with you. I suggest a truce.” He held out his hand to her.

      He had a nice hand, one that looked strong and capable. She grabbed it and was surprised by a rivulet of warmth that traveled up her arm. “Truce,” she agreed and quickly pulled her hand away.

      For the next few minutes they ate in silence. She gazed out the window where the view was of tranquil isolation. Tall trees were grouped closely together with bushes and tall grass at their bases. In the distance the sun sparkled on a large body of water visible between the trunks of the trees.

      Actually, four days here didn’t seem like such a horrible idea, but she didn’t want him to know that’s what she thought.

      “So, what are we going to do to pass this time in this place?” she asked. “I don’t suppose you do manicures.”

      “Give me a pair of clippers, and I’ll do the best I can,” he replied.

      She winced at the very idea. “I think the only way we’ll get along is if you pretend to be my cabana boy and fix me cocktails and hors d’oeuvres.”

      He grinned at her and said, “I’ll consider it after you put on an apron and pretend you’re my maid.” He eyed her curiously. “You know how to fish?”

      “Actually I do. When I was little and it was just me and my dad, he’d take me to Smithville Lake and we’d sit on the dam and fish on Sunday afternoons. But I haven’t done it in years.”

      “It’s like riding a bicycle, once you’ve mastered it you don’t ever forget how.”

      Once again she glanced out the window. The idea of sitting on a bank with a line in the water was surprisingly appealing. She hadn’t realized how scared she’d been since the attack in the club until now, when she felt completely safe and protected by the man who sat across from her.

      “How about you wash the dishes and I’ll dry?” she asked when they finished eating.

      He looked at her in surprise. “That will work,” he replied.

      Together they stood and carried their dishes to the sink. He’d just started running water when a cell phone rang. He quickly shut off the faucet and pulled the phone from his shirt pocket.

      “Sinclair,” he said.

      Brianna knew instantly that whoever was on the other end of the line was delivering bad news. Every muscle in Troy’s body stiffened and she could almost smell the burn of energy that wafted off him.

      “Okay. All right. Just sit tight. I’ll be back in touch.” He hung up and stared at Brianna, and something in his look made her heart begin to beat an unsteady rhythm.

      “What? Who was on the phone?” “That was your stepmother. Your father has been kidnapped.”

      Chapter Three

      “Kidnapped?” Brianna stared at him as if the word was as foreign to her as frying onions in a burger joint. “What are you talking about?”

      The easy babysitting job had suddenly become more complicated. Troy fought the impulse to take her in his arms. She looked so fragile standing before him, her big blue eyes widened in horror.

      “Heather said she got a phone call from someone who told her your father had been kidnapped.” He hesitated a moment, unsure how much to tell her, then opted for the whole truth. “The caller told her that if she goes to the authorities Brandon will be killed.”

      Her gaze darted around his face, as if seeking a sign that this was all a bad joke. “Was there a ransom demand?” she finally asked.

      Troy shook his head. “No. They just told Heather to keep her mouth shut if she wants to keep her husband alive.”

      “You have to take me back. I need to get home.” She looked around wildly. “I’ve got to get my things together. I need to be with Heather. We need to find my dad.” A trembling overtook her as tears filled her eyes.

      Troy stepped toward her and grabbed her shoulders, fearing she was about to spiral out of control. “Calm down,” he said. “I’ll take you back to Kansas City on one condition.”

      “What condition?”

      He released his hold on her shoulders. “The condition is that until we know exactly what’s going on, you stay with me in a safe house my company maintains in the city. It’s a farmhouse north of town, not far from where your father is building his mall.”

      “Fine, whatever,” she replied.

      “Okay, get your things and let’s get out of here.”

      It took only minutes for the two of them to repack their bags, load them into the trunk of the car and get on the road.

      “He thought I was the one in danger,” she said, her voice thin and filled with worry. “He protected me but he didn’t protect himself. Whatever the ransom, I’ll pay it. The kidnapper can have every dime I possess as long as he gives my father back unhurt.”

      “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We don’t know for sure that it’s about a ransom.”

      She looked at him in surprise. “What else could it be about?”

      He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and tried to ignore the tight nerves knotted in his stomach. The fact that the kidnapper hadn’t made a ransom demand worried him a lot, but he didn’t want Brianna to see his concern.

      “Maybe it’s about the meeting your dad was supposed to have on Wednesday night,” he finally answered. “Maybe the kidnapper believes if Brandon can’t make that meeting, the mall development will suffer.”

      “Maybe,” she replied, but he could tell by the dubious tone of her voice that she didn’t completely believe it. “But what would that accomplish? Eventually they’ll have to let him go.”

      “We can’t really know what’s going on until we have more information,” he replied. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was almost noon. They wouldn’t be back in Kansas City before three. Maybe by then Brandon would show up, and everyone would realize it had all just been a terrible mistake.

      “Can’t you drive any faster?” she asked impatiently.

      “It will slow us down considerably if I get pulled over for a speeding ticket. Just sit back and try to relax until we get you home.” He knew how ridiculous it was to tell her to try to relax, but there was nothing else to do at the moment.

      “Maybe I should call Heather,” she said and dug into her purse to withdraw a sparkly cell phone.

      “That probably isn’t a good idea,” he replied. “She’ll be keeping the line clear in case a ransom call comes in. She promised to call me if anything else happens.”

      When she dropped the phone back in her purse and fell silent, Troy was grateful. He needed to think. He needed