Claiming Her
Billion-Dollar
Birthright
Maureen Child
Falling for His
Proper Mistress
Tessa Radley
Claiming Her Billion-Dollar Birthright
Maureen Child
“Why don’t you take a few days to make your decision?” Christian offered.
“According to the will, you’ve got a couple of weeks to take your place at the resort.” He scribbled his phone number on the back of his business card, then handed it to her.
She ran her thumb over the embossed lettering in a slow stroke that was mesmerizing to Christian. His body stirred and he shifted uncomfortably on his chair.
What he’d like to do was blow off the business talk, take her for an elegant meal and then off to his hotel. If she was any other woman, that’s exactly what he would do.
But Erica Prentice was off-limits. If she ended up going to Aspen, his body had better get used to living with disappointment.
“We both know what that decision will be.”
“You’re going to accept the conditions of the will?”
“How can I not?”
Dear Reader,
It’s always exciting being invited to take part in a continuity series for Desire™. First, because I love writing Desires. Second, because it gives me a chance to work closely with some of the amazing writers in the line.
This time was no exception. In the Jarrod continuity, my book is first. I get the chance to introduce characters, and show you the location of our stories. If I’ve done my job right, then hopefully you’ll be convinced to stick around and read the next five books in this series.
The Jarrod dynasty was born in Aspen, Colorado, more than a hundred years ago. The family’s grown along with the town and now the Jarrod Resort is the epitome of lush extravagance. The Jarrod family itself is what all Desire families should be—larger than life. In this series, there are secrets to uncover, hidden loves to reveal and happy endings to find.
In my book, you’ll meet Christian Hanford, an attorney who owes everything to the late Donald Jarrod. And his heroine is Erica Prentice, a woman whose life is about to be turned upside down.
I hope you’ll enjoy yourselves with this first instalment of DYNASTIES: THE JARRODS. And I hope you’ll let us all know what you think! E-mail me at maureen [email protected] or snail mail me at PO Box 1883, Westminster, CA 92684-1883, USA.
And happy reading!
Maureen
From The Last Will And Testament Of Donald Jarrod
… and to my youngest child, my daughter Erica Prentice, I bequeath the sixth portion of my estate. Erica, I understand that your inclusion in this document will be a surprise to not only yourself, but to your brothers and sister, as well. It is my deepest wish that you will find a way to become part of the Jarrod family, fractured though it is. I am also leaving you the theater program for the play where I was first so lucky to have met your mother. I’ve kept this tattered playbill as a remembrance of your lovely mother … as a remembrance of you. It is my hope that, by giving you a place at Jarrod Ridge, I’ve also given you a chance to know some part of me, as well.
About the Author
MAUREEN CHILD is a California native who loves to travel. Every chance they get, she and her husband are taking off on another research trip. The author of more than sixty books, Maureen loves a happy ending and still swears that she has the best job in the world. She lives in Southern California with her husband, two children and a golden retriever with delusions of grandeur. Visit Maureen’s website at www.maureenchild.com.
To family.
Mine. Yours.
And to all the wonderful, irritating moments
we share with them.
Prologue
Christian Hanford refused to sit in a dead man’s chair.
So instead, he walked to the front of Don Jarrod’s desk and perched uneasily on the edge. The old man’s study was in the family living quarters on the top floor of Jarrod Manor. Here at Jarrod Ridge resort, everything was luxurious. Even a study that the public never saw. Paneled walls, thick carpets, original oils on the walls and a massive fireplace built of river stones. Of course, there was no cheerful blaze in the hearth, since summer had settled over Colorado.
He imagined none of the people in the room felt cheerful anyway. How could he blame them? They’d lost their father only a week before and now, they’d just had the proverbial rug pulled out from under them.
Years ago, each of the Jarrod children had left Jarrod Ridge, the plush resort that had been in their family for generations, to make their own way. Their father had pushed them all so hard to succeed that he’d managed to drive them away, one by one. To come back now, when it was too late to mend fences, was a hard thing to accept.
Not to mention the fact that in death, Don had figured out a way to not only bring them all home—but to keep them there. Something he hadn’t been able to do in life.
The huge Jarrod estate was to be divided equally among his children—on the condition that they all move home and take over running their legacy. Each of the Jarrod siblings had been slapped hard and none of them were happy about it. The old man had found a way to control them from the grave.
Which wasn’t sitting well.
Christian watched them all, understanding how they must feel, but sworn to abide by his late client’s wishes. God knows he’d tried to talk Don out of this, but the old man had been nothing if not stubborn.
Blake Jarrod and his brother Guy were the oldest. Though not identical, the twins each carried the stamp of their father. Blake was more the buttoned-down type, while Guy was a bit more easygoing. Gavin was two years younger than the twins, but he and Blake had worked together for quite a while out in Vegas.
Trevor Jarrod was the most laid-back of the bunch—or at least that was the demeanor he showed
the world. Then there was Melissa. The youngest and the only girl.
Or so she thought.
Christian sent a mental kick out to his now deceased mentor for leaving him in this position. But even in death, Don had wanted to rule the Jarrod clan and no doubt, wherever he was now, he didn’t really care that it was Christian getting stuck with the dirty work.
Blake stood up as if he couldn’t bear sitting still another minute. Just a week since Don Jarrod’s death, none of his children had had a chance to come to terms with his passing. And now they’d all been sucker punched.
They’d left the cemetery just an hour before and after reading through most of the will’s bequests, emotions were running high. Well, Christian thought, they were about to go even higher.
“Why are we still here, Christian?” Guy asked from his seat, bracing his elbows on his knees. “You’ve read the will, what’s left to say?”
“There’s one more thing to cover.”
“What haven’t you covered?” Trevor asked, shifting a glance around the room at his brothers and sister. “Seems pretty