How To Seduce An Heiress: The Reluctant Heiress / Pride After Her Fall / Project: Runaway Heiress. Lucy Ellis
Читать онлайн книгу.
hanging in place and he stepped away.
“Let’s look at it.”
He took her arm and they walked across the large room to study the result of his work. She was aware of the warmth of him beside her. He looked at his watch. “Shall we go eat now, or should I just throw some steaks on the grill?”
“If we eat here, it’s fine with me.”
He leaned down to look directly into her eyes. “Are you certain you don’t mind my cooking?”
“Now I’m curious,” she said. “I’ll view it as an adventure.”
“Steaks at home it is.” He draped his arm across her shoulders. “It’s a nice evening. We’ll eat on the terrace.”
They carried their drinks outside, and Sophia was again surprised by the house.
“This isn’t a terrace, Garrett—it’s another kitchen, plus a terrace, plus a living area, plus a pool.”
“With Houston’s weather, it works well through the fall and winter,” he replied, crossing to a stainless-steel gas grill built into a stone wall. In minutes he had the grill fired up and he sat with her on comfortable chairs in the outdoor living room.
“So where are you going, Sophia? What do you want out of life?”
“To pursue painting. To do charity work. I’d like to help with literacy. Also, try to do something to aid in getting more opportunities in school for children to take art and learn art appreciation. I want to open a gallery in New Mexico.”
“Marriage and family?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think about that. I’m accustomed to being on my own. I don’t ever want to be in the situation my mother was in—in love with my dad who never returned that love fully.”
“Your dad—you knew him?”
“What I told you last night wasn’t completely accurate. He was around off and on all my life,” she said, feeling a stab of pain and anger that had never left her. “My dad wouldn’t marry my mother. He practically ignored me except for financial support.”
“You said he was married?” Garrett said.
“Not by the time I was a teenager, but he didn’t want to get tied down again. Whenever he came to visit, it tore her up each time he left. She would cry for several days. He was the only man she ever loved,” Sophia stated bitterly. “He had a family—boys. He would go home to them. I couldn’t do anything to help her or stop her tears. When I was little, we both cried. I cried for her and she cried over him.”
“That’s tough,” Garrett said. “He ignored you?”
“In his way he provided for me. But looking back, I don’t think he knew how to deal with a little girl. He brought me all kinds of presents. I can remember reaching an age where I smashed some of them to bits. Mom just started giving them to charities. I didn’t want anything from him.”
“How old were you then?”
“Probably about eight or nine. He was polite to me and Mom saw to it that I was polite to him, but we weren’t together a whole lot. He never talked to me other than hello and goodbye. I rarely heard him say my name. When I was little I wondered whether he knew it. Often, I would be sent to my grandmother’s, which I loved, or out with my nanny when he was coming. Worked fine for me. I didn’t want to see him.”
“Yet your mother always loved him.”
“She did. And I don’t ever want to fall into that trap. The best way to avoid it is to keep relationships from becoming too deep.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t base everything on the actions of your father.”
“That’s the legacy he left me—a deep fear of any relationship that isn’t totally committed.”
“Sorry, Sophia,” Garrett said with a somber note.
“How’d we get on this?” she asked, wanting to avoid thinking and talking about her blood father. She wanted him out of her life and thoughts as much as humanly possible.
“I’m interested in your life and finding out about you. Did he ever try to make it up to you?”
She thought of the inheritance Argus Delaney had left her. “He always showered Mom with money. Money was his solution for everything. He paid her medical bills, but by the time the end of her life came, we had enough money to manage on our own. No matter what happened, she always loved him. And I’ve always hated him,” she said.
“At least he was good to her,” Garrett said gently. “And generous.”
“I suppose I should be grateful, but I can’t be. He left money when he died—money I don’t want one penny of,” she said.
“He’s gone. He’ll never know whether you take his money or refuse it. Why not take it and enjoy it? It should be yours.”
She shook her head, feeling the familiar current of fury that she had lived with as long as she could remember.
“I don’t want anything to do with him.”
“You could do a lot with your inheritance.”
“I’ll never touch it,” she said, trying to shift her focus off the past and onto Garrett, thinking he would be fascinating to paint. His rugged features gave him a distinctive individualism and his unique gray eyes were unforgettable. Desire stirred and once again, she struggled to pay attention to their conversation.
He was studying her intently. “Sophia—” He paused, his eyes holding secrets. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
“What? What were you going to say?”
He looked away. “I’ll check on the steaks.” She watched him stride to the cooker and she wondered for the second time this evening what it was he’d been about to say to her. Probably more advice about taking her inheritance, which she’d already heard enough of from Edgar.
“The steaks are ready.”
She stood, going with him to help get tossed salads, potatoes and water on the table. Soon they sat on the terrace to eat thick, juicy steaks.
“It’s a wonder you ever travel for pleasure. It’s gorgeous here and you have every convenience.”
“I like it here, but I like my other places, too.”
“I guess I can understand since I enjoy Santa Fe and Taos and even the cabin in the mountains as much as living in Houston.” She took a bite of her steak. “You’re a very good cook. The steak is delicious,” she said, surprised because he’d seemed to pay little attention to his cooking.
“I’m glad you think so.”
“I should have watched you more closely. I invariably burn them.”
“You can watch me as closely as you want,” he replied with a twinkle.
“I opened the door for that one,” she said, smiling at him. “So how did you get into property management?” she asked, picking up her water glass to take a sip. A faint breeze caught his hair, blowing it gently. His hair was thick, and she thought about how it felt to run her fingers through it.
“My dad had the business,” he was saying. “He was into property management and finance. I was raised to follow in his footsteps and groomed to take over his businesses.”
“Businesses? There are others?”
“Yes, but I’m not directly involved in most of them. Hardly involved at all. They’re investments.”
“And that leaves you free to play around,” she said. “So what do you actually do?” she asked, flirting with him while trying to satisfy her curiosity about him and his life.
He smiled