Wedding His Takeover Target
Emilie Rose
Inheriting His Secret Christmas Baby
Heidi Betts
Wedding His Takeover Target
Emilie Rose
He hadn’t expected a deal with the devil to taste this good.
God help him, he wanted Sabrina in a way he shouldn’t want a woman. She’d been forced down his throat as part of a business deal, but they had something between them, and while the chemistry might be temporary, it was damned impressive and worth exploring.
She scooted away on the blanket and pressed her fingertips to her mouth. “What was that?”
“Proof,” was all he could force out. Her taste lingered on his damp lips, making him ache to tug her down on the blanket and cover her body with his.
Her dazed expression morphed into disbelief. “Proof of what?”
“That you want me. And trust me, Sabrina, the feeling is mutual.”
Dear Readers,
What isn’t romantic about Aspen, Colorado, snuggling under a fur blanket with your significant other or making love in front of a roaring fire? For me, researching my part in the Jarrod continuity set in the Rocky Mountain town became a mini-vacation. Aspen, with its small-town setting and big-city jetset lifestyle, is so rich in history, culture and things to do that anyone could find something to do there—even if only vicariously.
I hope you enjoy your ringside seat as Sabrina and Gavin, who’ve been running from their past, get together and discover they generate enough heat to melt the snowcaps from the surrounding mountains.
Emilie Rose
About the Author
Bestselling Desire™ author and RITA® Award finalist EMILIE ROSE lives in her native North Carolina with her four sons and two adopted mutts. Writing is her third (and hopefully her last) career. She’s managed a medical office and run a home day-care, neither of which offers half as much satisfaction as plotting happy endings. Her hobbies include gardening and cooking (especially cheesecake). She’s a rabid country music fan because she can find an entire book in almost any song. She is currently working her way through her own “bucket list,” which includes learning to ride a Harley. Visit her website at www.emilierose.com or e-mail [email protected]. Letters can be mailed to PO Box 20145, Raleigh, NC 27619, USA.
From the Last Will and Testament of Don Jarrod
… And to my son Gavin I leave my stable of horses. I have such fond memories of you spending hours in the big barn, taking care of all the animals. How many meals did you miss, insisting you had to feed the horses first? It gave me such pride to see you grow into your own, riding “your” horses across the field. How carefree you were … Did you know it broke my heart when you left and didn’t look back? I hope being responsible for the horses once more will help you find your way home.
One
“You said urgent. Here we are,” Gavin Jarrod said as he preceded his oldest brother Blake into Christian Hanford’s office Monday morning. Not a great way to start the week.
The attorney handling their late father’s estate indicated the chairs in front of his desk and waited until Gavin and Blake sat. “I appreciate your coming in. Unfortunately, the news is not good.”
Gavin shot a what now? look at his brother. “Not surprising since none of the news since our father’s death five months ago has been good, beginning with him requiring each of us to put our lives and careers on hold and spend a year at Jarrod Ridge or we all forfeit our inheritance.”
“This regards your project and the permits needed to build the new bungalow you’ve designed on the resort property.”
Gavin tried not to let his frustration and resentment show. Leave it to their father to try to control their lives from his grave with posthumous demands. “What’s the holdup? It’s November first. We need to get the foundations dug and poured before the ground freezes solid.”
“You can’t get the permits because the land isn’t part of your father’s estate.”
“What?” Gavin and his brother exclaimed simultaneously.
Blake leaned forward in his chair. “The site is in the middle of Jarrod property. How can the family not own it?”
Christian pulled an aerial map of Jarrod Ridge from the file in front of him and slid it across his desk. He indicated an X on a five-acre tract outlined in red.
“This is where you wanted to build. When we researched the deed we discovered your grandfather transferred ownership of this plot to Henry Caldwell fifty years ago.”
Gavin searched his brain for Caldwells and came up empty. He’d spent the first eighteen years of his life in Aspen, but he had no reason to know any of the locals anymore. He’d escaped the town and his domineering father when he’d left for college a decade ago—he only returned when he absolutely couldn’t avoid it. To say he and his father hadn’t gotten along would be a gross understatement. “Who in the hell is Caldwell?”
“He owns the Snowberry Inn, a bed-and-breakfast here in Aspen that’s been around as long as Jarrod Ridge.”
“Why would our grandfather sell him a defunct mine?” The old mine had been Gavin’s favorite hideout as a kid. He and his brothers had spent countless hours wandering through the tunnels, and in high school Gavin had taken girls there to make out.
“The real question is why would anyone want to buy it?” Blake countered. “There’s not enough silver on the site to make extraction cost-effective.”
“That’s the interesting part. In my digging, I discovered your grandfather didn’t sell the acreage. He wagered it in a poker game. And lost it.”
Surprise pushed the air from Gavin’s lungs. “We’ll buy it back.”
Christian eyed him across the map. “Good luck with that. There are numerous letters in our files indicating that your father tried and failed to repurchase the land more than a dozen times over the years. Caldwell refused to sell.”
Blake sat back in his chair looking more relaxed than he should given the revelation that had just blown their plans to hell and back. “The plans are already drawn for a high-security bungalow for the resort’s A-list guests. The construction crews have been contracted and the materials ordered because we had no reason to expect a glitch like this. We’ll have to choose another site.”
“No,” Gavin insisted. “If I’m condemned to waste another seven months here I’m not giving up on the only place on the estate that holds good memories for me. I’ll convince Caldwell to sell.”
One corner of Blake’s mouth lifted. “You just want to do what Dad couldn’t.”
A smile tugged Gavin’s lips. His brother knew him and his competitive streak too well. Gavin never had been good at passing up a challenge. “I wouldn’t mind besting the old man. He’ll probably roll over in his grave when I succeed.”
“If you succeed,” his brother cautioned.
“I will.” Having older twin brothers who’d often teamed up against him had given Gavin a persistent streak that some called stubborn, but that same trait had taken him to the top of his field.