Rachel Bailey - Return of the Secret Heir

The only way she’d been able to cope with that crazy, explosive night was to try not to think about it. But with each step he took closer, the memories assaulted her-his kiss, the feel of him entering her, his tenderness. His companion was talking and JT nodded and replied, but Pia felt the intensity of his gaze in every cell of her body. By the time he reached her, her breath was coming a little too fast for someone standing still on a warm, sunny day, but she was helpless to glance away.

When they stopped in front of her, his blonde friend looked up, seemingly surprised to find someone there.

“Lovely day,” JT said, voice smooth and low.

She swallowed to moisten her throat before she could speak. “JT.” Thankfully, her voice sounded normal, even professional.

“This is Christina,” he said. “She works in my marketing department.” He turned to the woman beside him. “This is Nell.”

Pia blinked then realized he was being discreet, just as she’d asked. Either that or he was making fun of her. She held her hand out to the other woman. “Nice to meet you.”

Christina took Pia’s hand and shook it, giving her a warm smile. “Lovely to meet you too, Nell. By the way, your hat is hands down the best here. I have a largish collection but that one’s something altogether different in style. Where did you buy it?”

“I made it,” she admitted. From the corner of her eye, she saw JT’s gaze sharpen.

“Really?” Christina asked, her eyes fixed above Pia’s crown. “It has such fabulous details on the brim. Are you a milliner?”

For a moment, Pia imagined her mother’s horrified expression if she’d overheard someone asking one of her daughters that question. The Baxter girls were not raised to make things. They were raised to earn exorbitant wages-or marry money-then pay others to make things for them.

“No,” she said, “a lawyer.”

“Do you ever sell your creations? Because I’d be first in line to buy one.”

Sell them? Pia almost laughed. Her job took practically every minute of her day, and once she made partner, it would only get busier. And this woman thought she’d have time to sit around and make hats for other people? That after a law degree from Yale and incalculable hours of overtime, she’d suddenly start spending her nights whipping up designs? A niggle of annoyance reared its head-solely to do with the conversation, not with the fact that this woman was on JT’s arm, of course.

“Sorry to disappoint,” she said with a polite smile, “I don’t have the time.”

Christina was undeterred. “Well, if you ever change your mind, please make sure I’m the first person you call because-”

“Nell,” JT interrupted, “there’s something I wanted to discuss. Do you have a moment to take a walk with me?”

Thankful for the interruption, she turned to him. The offer of escape from Christina’s well-intentioned enthusiasm was hard to bypass, but there was a danger in being alone with this man. Although, they wouldn’t be alone-they were at an event, being held in a large park filled with people, in the middle of the day. It was nothing like being alone at their special beach in the moonlight.

JT offered his arm and after only a brief hesitation, she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Christina, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, and after they made goodbyes to Christina, they moved away.

“So you haven’t given up completely on your dream to be a fashion designer,” he said lightly, looking ahead. She sighed. So much for avoiding a discussion on the topic by leaving with him.

“I’m not designing hats. It’s just a pragmatic solution when I can’t find a suitable one.”

JT looked down into Pia’s serious expression as they walked and wondered if she truly believed that. Had she sublimated her creative nature that far, or was she spinning him a line? Her eyes didn’t flicker. She did believe it-she thought she was as straitlaced as her parents and sisters. Sure, he’d seen the signs when they’d met again-the conservative suits, the harshly pinned-back hair, the closed expression-but he’d thought it was a facade for her career’s sake. And for his sake. But now it was obvious she truly believed it.

She’d forgotten the shape of her soul.

He rubbed a finger across his forehead. How was that possible? Perhaps it’d been the aftermath of losing their baby, when she’d closed herself off to him. It’d been the worst time of his life-perhaps it’d also been enough to rupture her self-image, her belief in her true self?

He blew out a long breath. Whenever it’d happened, whatever it was that had changed her from a free-spirited, joyful person, it was wrong. Suddenly desperate to ruffle her feathers, to mess up that oh-so-controlled mask she was wearing, he guided them away from the crowd, to another part of the garden that was open to tourists but seemed to be empty.

“Pia,” he said, low, as they walked, “you’re not this person.”

Her gaze flew up to his, her violet eyes startled. “What do you mean?”

“This,” he waved a hand up and down her outfit, “is one of your sisters, not you.”

Her eyes hardened and her chin swung away as she spoke. “No, JT. I’ve grown up. Don’t presume you know anything about me anymore.”

People grew up, sure, but they didn’t change this much. There had to be the same person deep down inside her. “You’re wilder, more creative, more dangerous than this.”

She shivered but her step didn’t falter. “That was your influence. It was never the real me.”

His influence? It’d been part of what attracted him to the teenaged Pia when he’d spied her at school on his first day. She’d been so free, so beautiful, so unpredictable.

They came to a greenhouse and he guided her inside to the hothouse flowers that scented the air with their ripe sweetness. “I think you’re overestimating my ability to influence you. Sure I did some crazy things, but you were the one who had us both breaking curfew to watch the sunrise from the top of my apartment building. And it was your idea to make love in the rain on my birthday.” His blood heated at the memory of that wild afternoon- Pia’s hands all over him in a secluded part of her parents’ garden, the chill of raindrops on his back, the heat of her body beneath his.

Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, a faraway look in her eyes, and he wondered if she was having the same stream of visual memories as he was. He slowed his steps until he came to a halt amid lush, damp ferns, and turned her to face him. The pulse at the base of her throat was chaotic.

“It was only when I was with you,” she denied. “That’s not the real me.”

“Then why do you want to kiss me right now?” He stroked a fingertip lightly down the edge of her cheek, and a flush spread from her neck up to bloom across her face. “There might be no one around, but it’s a public place. And you told me I’m off limits. The good girl you claim to be wouldn’t be craving that forbidden fruit the way you are this very second.”

“I’m not craving you, JT,” she said. Her voice was resolute, but her mouth told a different story-her lips were parted, her breaths coming too fast. Oh, yeah. She was no good girl.

His heart thudded in his chest. “You want me so bad that you’d let me take you here if I tried.”

Her eyes flicked around their semiprivate enclosure and back to his mouth. “I wouldn’t,” she said, her voice heavy with desire.

“Yeah, you would. Without a second thought.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. “And God help me, I want you as much.”

He dipped his head beneath the brim of her hat and cradling her face in his palms, pressed his mouth to her soft lips. Without hesitation, her mouth opened to him as he’d known it would, her tongue met his, sliding decadently. A delicious shiver raced down his spine. As her hat slipped to the ground, her arms wound around his back, holding him tight, just where he wanted to be.