Guarding the Heiress

Eddi was a job. An assignment…

Doug reminded himself of this fact as his eyes feasted on the way she moved. She was an assignment, yes, but she was also the most fascinating woman he’d ever met.

“Swear you won’t leave my side for an instant? Swear it or I won’t go,” Eddi said. “As long as you’re with me, I can do this.”

Ignoring the warning in his brain, Doug reached for her hand. He held it tenderly and reveled in the rush of desire that burned through him. “I’ll be right there with you every step of the way.”

Before he could fathom her intent, she leaned across and kissed his cheek. In that infinitesimal moment before she drew away, it took every ounce of discipline he possessed not to kiss her back. Not to draw her into his arms and kiss her the way she deserved to be kissed…

Guarding the Heiress

Debra Webb

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to a bright, beautiful young lady who never lets anything stop her from reaching her goals. No matter what life has thrown her way, she always triumphs while showing kindness and generosity to all those around her. My niece, Tanya Kimble Turley, this book is for you and your very own Knight in Shining Armor, your husband, Ray.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Debra Webb was born in Scottsboro, Alabama, to parents who taught her that anything is possible if you want it badly enough. She began writing at age nine. Eventually she met and married the man of her dreams and tried some other occupations, including selling vacuum cleaners and working in a factory, a day-care center, a hospital and a department store. When her husband joined the military, they moved to Berlin, Germany, and Debra became a secretary in the commanding general’s office. By 1985 they were back in the States, and they finally moved to Tennessee, to a small town where everyone knows everyone else. With the support of her husband and two beautiful daughters, Debra took up writing again, looking to mystery and movies for inspiration. In 1998 her dream of writing for Harlequin came true. You can write to Debra with your comments at P.O. Box 64, Huntland, Tennessee 37345, or visit her Web site at www.DebraWebb.com.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Prologue

“Are you sure this young woman is indeed a D’Martine heir?” The man studied him closely, as if he were some kind of bug under a microscope. “I need absolute certainty here. If what you say is true, then—”

“I know what I saw,” Joe said sharply. “And I know what it means. I’ve had twenty long years in the state penitentiary to think about it. That’s the only reason I went back there first thing when I got out.” He snorted, a disgustingly crude sound judging by the other man’s flinch. “You think I bagged that kid twenty-five years ago because I was lucky?”

The other man just stared at him with obvious impatience and no small amount of distaste.

“I bagged him so easy because he was distracted by his girlfriend. He was in love,” Joe added with an emphatic wave of his arms. “So damned in love he didn’t even notice I was following him until I’d nailed him.”

Another flinch from the guy who’d been his partner twenty-five years ago. A partner who hadn’t spent a solitary day behind bars and, from the looks of him, had suffered little considering their deal had gone so far south it had burned out somewhere in the vicinity of the equator. Instead of landing a ten-million-dollar ransom as they had planned, they’d ended up with a body to dispose of and nothing to show for their trouble.

He—the silent partner—had insisted they were never to see each other, or even to speak to each other, again. After all, it was his hind end in the sling. The high-and-mighty partner was the mastermind behind the whole plan. Course it wasn’t his fault the package had gotten damaged.

Old Joe had no one to blame for that except himself. He’d screwed up. Had too much to drink and the young heir had died as a result, leaving Joe and his partner nothing to do but dump the body and make sure no evidence pointed toward either of them. They’d gotten away with it, by George. Not a soul on earth knew they had been the ones. If Joe hadn’t gotten into that other trouble a little later, he’d have walked away clean with a number of crimes to his credit.

But, fact was, he’d spent twenty years in prison. The whole time he’d thought of little else except what he’d missed by screwing up that kidnapping. He could have been drinking tequila down in Cancún; instead, he was wasting away in a cell. Then it had dawned on him that maybe there was hope for a second chance. He’d seen how crazy that rich boy had been over the waitress he’d sneaked away from his hotshot college every weekend to see. A girl like that had no hopes in hell of snagging herself a rich boy without a little leverage, planned or not. Joe had thought on it ever since. The very day the state released him from prison he’d gotten on a bus and headed straight for Meadowbrook, Maryland. He’d hung out for a few days, laying low and acting nonchalant. And, lo and behold, he’d been right.

There was another D’Martine heir. No way could he be wrong. The girl was the spitting image of her daddy. All Joe needed was his old partner to make it happen. To have a second chance at the rest of his life in the land of luxury and pleasure. Damned D’Martines had too much money anyhow. It wouldn’t hurt them to share a little. This time he’d make sure nobody got damaged until he had what he wanted.

“All right,” his partner finally relented. “I’ll set things in motion.” He started to turn away, then hesitated. His face turned as hard as the rock wall that surrounded the prison Joe had only recently departed. “But this time there will be no mistakes.”

Joe smiled. “No mistakes.”

Old Joe might be a little slow, but he never, ever made the same mistake twice.

History was about to repeat itself.

And no one would see it coming.

Chapter One

Doug Cooper waited impatiently in Victoria Colby’s office, his anticipation mounting. He’d been stuck on desk duty since taking that bullet six weeks ago. Lucky for him it hadn’t hit anything vital, just put him out of commission temporarily.

But now he was ready to get back to work. He was immensely bored with reading reports and studying case scenarios. He was ready for some action. Victoria had briefed him last week on the first case in which he would serve as lead investigator. He wasn’t particularly thrilled with the assignment, but he would deal with it. The case, as Victoria had said, was somewhat sensitive and required an investigator with a certain background. Doug understood all that. But that didn’t mean he liked it.

He preferred to keep his background exactly there—in the background. He’d worked too hard to put that past behind him. But, as Victoria had said, that very past was pertinent to the case. And Doug wanted his first assignment as a lead investigator. Wanted it badly enough that he was willing to do whatever was required of him. If his roots as the middle son of one of the wealthiest families in America today—one which had been called the last American royal family—would ensure his ability to complete this assignment, he would utilize the highbrow upbringing and sophisticated education that came with the DNA sequence to which he’d been born.

He thought of the poor unsuspecting female whose life was about to change and felt a twinge of regret. Edwinna Harper had no idea what was about to come her way. Some would say she’d been blessed by fate, but Doug knew better. The gene pool lottery she’d just won carried a high price.

Solange D’Martine was long thought to be the final member of the wealthy D’Martine family line. The last heir to an international jewelry empire that went back for half a dozen generations. Solange, however, was a D’Martine by marriage, not by blood. Still, since there was no one else, she was it. Nearly seventy and agoraphobic, the woman had little in the way of a real life. A nudge of sympathy made Doug sigh. He was certain the lady was lonely. The discovery of an heir would have a dramatic impact on her life. Not to mention it would ensure that the family tradition of designing and trading jewels would, perhaps, carry on despite a tragic past.

Doug had read the file on the devastating events that had befallen the family. The son, Edouard D’Martine, had been the sole heir to the empire, which had its roots in France. During his final year of law school, Edouard had been kidnapped and held for ransom and something had gone terribly wrong. The body was found but the case was never solved. His father had died a short time later from a heart attack, brought on, most believed, by the tragedy. Solange D’Martine had suffered her losses alone. There were some things money simply could not buy and she had learned that the hardest way of all.

Now, a granddaughter, one Edwinna Harper, had been discovered by a close family confidant. The young woman lived in Meadowbrook, Maryland, and worked with her father—or, at least, the man she thought to be her father—in his family-owned hardware store. Edwinna’s mother, Millicent, had abruptly married Harvey Harper nearly twenty-six years ago after discovering she was pregnant. Doug wondered why, if in fact Edwinna was Edouard D’Martine’s biological child, Millicent hadn’t come forward and announced to the world that she carried the child of the recently deceased sole heir to such a massive fortune. Proving paternity, even twenty-five years ago, wasn’t that difficult. But Millicent, better known as Milly, had remained oddly silent.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Douglas,” Victoria said as she entered the large office that overlooked the heart of Chicago from the fourth floor of the twenty-story skyscraper that sat only two blocks from the Magnificent Mile. At this hour of the morning shoppers would already be milling about the sidewalks, rushing from one prestigious department store to the next. As she settled behind her wide, polished oak desk, Victoria continued, “I received a call this morning from the D’Martine attorney, Mr. Thurston. Mrs. D’Martine would like us to proceed immediately.”

Doug nodded. “I’m ready. I can leave this afternoon.”

“Fine. You should arrange a rendezvous time with Mr. Thurston.” Victoria studied Doug a moment before adding, “I know that the threat to Miss Harper is only theory, but I want you to approach this assignment as if it were fact.”

“Of course.”

Something changed in Victoria Colby’s eyes then. He’d seen it before anytime the case of a missing child came up. “It would be impossible to properly communicate the depth of pain involved with the loss of a child.” She swallowed with difficulty and moistened her lips. “I can fully understand Mrs. D’Martine’s desire to be particularly cautious. This young woman is all that remains of her son. Whatever is required for you to protect Miss Harper from harm and to prepare her for the change that is about to take place in her life, you will have this agency’s full support. Don’t hesitate to follow your instincts. Whatever is necessary.”

Doug nodded again. “Rest assured. I won’t disappoint Mrs. D’Martine or this agency.”

Victoria’s somber expression relaxed into a smile. “I’m quite certain you won’t disappoint us.”

After discussing a few additional minor details, Doug took his leave. A final arrangement or two remained unsettled, such as packing for an indefinite stay in Meadowbrook, Maryland. But only one thing actually concerned him, the ability to keep his true identity secret. If the media got wind of the D’Martine story, especially the tabloids, they would be on it like starving predators going in for the kill. Keeping his face out of the limelight might just prove impossible. His jaw clenched automatically. Somehow he had to do it. Though Doug loved his family, he had no intention of going back to that life. His family might not understand his decision but they respected it. The media, however, respected very little when it came to a hot story.

Edwinna Harper, known to her friends as Eddi, wasn’t the only one in danger of losing control of her life here.

Douglas Jamison Cooper-Smith, aka Doug Cooper, had a few secrets of his own.

“I’LL SEE YOUR TEN and raise you twenty.”

Eddi Harper paused, wrench midturn, and eyed the card-playing foursome from her position beneath the kitchen sink. This friendly little game of poker had just gotten serious. Ms. Minnie never, ever bet more than ten dollars. A fat droplet of water from the leaking s-trap hit Eddi smack in the middle of her forehead and reminded her of what she was supposed to be doing. She swiped her forehead with her sleeve, then quickly gave the ring another turn, her gaze still glued to the elderly ladies seated around the antique dining table belonging to Ms. Ella Brown.

Mattie Caruthers, Minnie’s fraternal twin, raised a speculative eyebrow at her sister. “Call,” she stated crossly as she slapped her wager down.

“Now, Mattie, no need to get your knickers in a wad,” Ella scolded teasingly before placing her own twenty atop the others. “Adventure is good for the soul.”

Irene Marlowe looked up from her splay of cards and smiled at her friends, then placed her bill in the growing pot. “Before we reveal what we’re holding,” she began in that lusty voice that had once made her a small fortune on the silver screen, “we have another matter to discuss.” Irene flicked an assessing glance in Eddi’s direction.

Eddi frowned. She twisted the ring one final turn, visually checked her work, then scooted from under the sink. After reaching up and turning on the faucet, she squatted between the open cabinet doors and watched the s-trap for any leaks while the water flowed through the newly installed pipes. She kept a careful watch on the ladies from the corner of her eye. Eddi had a feeling that she was about to hear the down and dirty on some poor unsuspecting Meadowbrook citizen.

“You all may have forgotten, but at the end of this month our Eddi turns twenty-five,” Irene reminded. Three properly horrified gazes flitted to Eddi then back to Irene.

Eddi cringed inwardly as she got to her feet. So, she was the poor unsuspecting citizen. Ms. Irene made it sound as if she had developed some terminal illness rather than simply having grown another year older. “All done here, Ms. Ella,” Eddi announced as if neither she nor her birthday had been mentioned. Maybe she could derail wherever this was going. And maybe the tooth fairy was real.

“Put it on my account at the hardware,” Ella told her quickly, not wanting to spare too much attention from the discussion that was no doubt about to blossom.

“This is not good,” Minnie said knowingly. She shook her head slowly from side to side. “Not good at all.”

“We have to do something,” Mattie chimed in. “Before it’s too late.”

Too late? Eddi made a face as she rounded up her tools. Sure, she didn’t have a romantic prospect in sight, but she hadn’t really looked. Who had the time? And it wasn’t as if Meadowbrook was brimming with young, single males. But “too late” somehow sounded like a bit of overkill.

Ella took a long, thoughtful draw from her illegally imported Cuban cigar, then tilted her head and blew out the resulting smoke. “You’re right,” she offered finally. “We have to do something, otherwise our Eddi is doomed.”

Eddi glared at the foursome and opened her mouth to argue, but Minnie spoke before she could. “Here, Ella, dear, have some more Remedy.” Minnie freshened Ella’s iced tea by adding a little of what Eddi knew to be moonshine from the mason jar sitting next to the tea pitcher.

“Thank you.” Ella took a hearty swallow and gingerly patted her ample bosom. She sighed. “That’s just what I needed.”

“The way I see it,” Irene said, garnering the group’s attention once more, “a prime opportunity has fallen into our laps.”

“Oh, do tell,” Mattie crooned.

Eddi looked from one blue-haired lady to the next, then shrugged and turned to finish packing up her tools. It was useless to try to stop them. This wouldn’t be the first time, or the last, Eddi would bet, that her marital status, or lack thereof, would be discussed by Meadowbrook’s most respected matriarchs. The women loved playing Cupid.

“What opportunity?” Minnie asked eagerly of Irene’s enigmatic announcement.

“I saw a very handsome young man checking into Ms. Ada’s boardinghouse this morning,” Irene explained with a dreamy look on her well-preserved face. “He reminded me instantly of JFK Jr. Devilishly handsome, I tell you. My heart hasn’t reacted like that since my first on-screen kiss.”

Eddi stilled, her fingers on the latches of her bright red toolbox. In a small town like this no stranger went unnoticed. Eddi’d seen the guy. He was the kind of man who inspired phrases like drop-dead gorgeous. At just over six feet, she estimated, and one hundred seventy pounds, the man appeared lean and solid. Not that she made it a habit of sizing up men, especially strangers, but there was just something about this one that aroused her natural curiosity. Thick, dark hair and piercing blue eyes adorned a face that was chiseled to sinfully handsome proportions.

Eddi blinked away the image. The man had rolled into town in his black SUV at nine this morning, all mysterious and good-looking, and, she glanced at her wristwatch, at only two-fifteen, the Club was already talking about him. She glanced at the members in question. No one knew exactly what this “club” did. It was anyone’s guess. However, their matchmaking was legendary in these parts. She doubted a soul in town knew what the subject of their discussion did for a living or where he’d come from as of yet, and still she’d bet they had already reached a number of conclusions.

But, Eddi admitted as she chewed her lower lip, there was something that bothered her about the man. It wasn’t anything in particular. Maybe something about the way he carried himself. Though she was far from world wise, the one word that came to mind was dangerous. The man was like no other she had ever seen, in real life anyway. And Eddi had every intention of giving him a wide berth if their paths crossed. Assuming he stayed in town longer than the night.

“Oh, I saw him, too,” Mattie and Minnie chimed simultaneously. Ella nodded, “So did I.”

For goodness’ sake. Eddi suppressed the urge to heave a sigh and shake her head. Did these ladies do nothing but peek out their windows all day long? Well, she amended, when they weren’t playing cards and sipping Remedy. She felt immediately contrite. The elderly foursome was harmless and well-meaning. She should just cut them some slack.

“The only two bachelors the right age left in Meadowbrook think of Eddi as just another one of the boys,” Irene was saying with all the drama she had honed over the past half century as an actress. “We certainly can’t match her up with either of them, and frankly, ladies, our time is running out.”

Eddi snapped shut the latches on her toolbox and pushed to her feet. “Ms. Irene, I appreciate your concern,” she began, “but I—”

“But what do we know about the gentleman?” Mattie interjected, cutting Eddi off. “He could be a drifter.” Her expression sparkled with renewed interest. “Or…a spy.”

Ella rolled her eyes and demanded, “What’s to know?” She took another drag from her cigar. “No wedding ring, so he’s single. Handsome as they come. And Ada said he used one of those credit cards that have no spending limit. He’s probably loaded.”

Eddi’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. No ring didn’t mean anything and a high credit line certainly didn’t equate to wealth. These ladies were shameless! Their conclusions were foolish and unfounded. And they thought Eddi was naive. Enough was enough. “Ms. Ella, I—”

“Run along now, Eddi,” Ella scolded gently. “We’ll take care of this little problem for you.”

“He could be an ax murderer for all we know,” Minnie countered suddenly, as if the idea had only just occurred to her. “He had that…that look, you know.”

Mattie pooh-poohed her sister’s suggestion. “What would an ax murderer be doing in Meadowbrook?” She glared at Minnie. “That look you’re referring to is intrigue. The man’s a regular Pierce Brosnan.”

“Ladies,” Eddi said more firmly. She set her hands on her hips and strode to the dining table so that she could glare down at the meddling old biddies more effectively. “I’m not looking for a husband.”

Ella tipped her cigar ashes into a nearby ashtray. “It’s the curse,” she announced solemnly.

Confusion swiftly replaced Eddi’s irritation. “Curse?” A bad feeling edged into the back of her mind.

Minnie nodded gravely and looked from one to the other until her gaze came to rest steadily on Eddi. “It’s affected the Harper women, as well as the Talkingtons on your momma’s side, for generations.”

“Every female who didn’t marry by the age of twenty-five, never married,” Ella explained. “Your aunt Jess, your great-aunt Rosie, your cousin Mildred.” Ella shrugged. “The list goes on and on. Your momma scarcely made it herself.” The four shared another knowing look.

“Come on,” Eddi countered. “You don’t really believe that stuff.” She looked to Irene, usually the most levelheaded one of the matchmaking group. “Those are just coincidences.” This was ridiculous. How could they believe this nonsense? It was laughable. Eddi licked her suddenly dry lips.

Almost.

She quickly ran down the history of the named relatives, then considered her own unattached, uninvolved, admittedly romanceless state and dread pooled in her tummy. Maybe they were right. Maybe she was doomed to live a life alone, struggling to keep the hardware from going under.

“Eddi, honey, I’m afraid my friends are right,” Irene soothed. “I’m not a suspicious person by nature, but the facts speak for themselves.”

Eddi threw up her hands and waved them back and forth as if she could erase the whole subject. “This is the new millennium, ladies, it’s okay to be twenty-five and single.”

Ella lifted one finely arched gray eyebrow. “But how many twenty-five-year-old virgins do you know?”

The blush started at her toes and rushed all the way to the roots of Eddi’s carefully braided hair. “Have a nice afternoon, ladies,” she said pointedly. “I think that’s my cue to go.” Eddi pivoted and strode toward her waiting toolbox.

“Come on, Eddi,” Irene cajoled. “It’s not your fault your father had to have your help every spare moment since you turned thirteen. Your mother’s accident didn’t permit her to provide the extra set of hands he needed. All you’ve ever known is that hardware store. When other little girls were playing dolls and dress-up, you were learning how to handle a wrench and to swing a hammer. You played baseball and basketball when you were a teenager instead of wearing cheerleader skirts or taking dance lessons.”

Minnie nodded her agreement. “Your male peers were all too in awe of your athletic ability to ask you for a date.”

Eddi snatched up her toolbox. “It’s not like I’ve never had a date,” she snapped.

“Don’t get yourself worked up, girlie,” Mattie put in sternly. “Everything is going to be just fine.” She smiled then and winked at Eddi. “You’ll see.”