“Sometimes,” he said softly. “Families just happen.”

Cole’s hand was warm, strong. He didn’t immediately let her go, and a strange feeling surged up her arm, pushing into her chest.

Time seemed to stop. She stood still and drank in his appearance. He was such a gorgeous, sexy man. His smoke-gray eyes were dark with emotion. She noticed once again that his shoulders were broad, arms toned, chest defined. He seemed to radiate a power that was more than just physical.

She fought another urge to go to him. It couldn’t happen…not this time.

* * *

The Missing Heir is part of the No.1 bestselling series from Mills & Boon® Desire™— Billionaires and Babies: Powerful men…wrapped around their babies’ little fingers.

The Missing Heir

Barbara Dunlop

www.millsandboon.co.uk

BARBARA DUNLOP writes romantic stories while curled up in a log cabin in Canada’s far north, where bears outnumber people and it snows six months of the year. Fortunately she has a brawny husband and two teenage children to haul firewood and clear the driveway while she sips cocoa and muses about her upcoming chapters. Barbara loves to hear from readers. You can contact her through her website, www.barbaradunlop.com.

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For Mom

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Extract

Copyright

One

Cole Henderson propped himself against a workbench in Aviation 58’s hangar at the Juneau, Alaska, airport and gazed at the front page of the Daily Bureau. He realized news of the Atlanta plane crash deaths should make him feel something. After all, Samuel Henderson had been his biological father. But he had no idea what he was supposed to feel.

A nearby door in the big building opened, letting in a swirl of frigid air and blowing snow. At ten o’clock in the morning, it was still dark outside this far north.

His business partner, Luca Dodd, strode in, crossing the concrete floor alongside the sixty-passenger Komodor airplane that was down for maintenance.

“You looking at it?” Luca asked.

“I’m looking at it,” said Cole.

Luca tugged off his leather gloves and removed his wool hat. “What do you think?”

“I don’t think anything.” Cole folded the paper and tossed it on the bench behind him. “What’s to think? The guy’s dead.”

A drill buzzed on the far side of the hangar, and the air compressor started up, clattering in the background as two maintenance engineers worked on the engine of the Komodor.

“He was your father,” Luca pointed out.

“I never met him. And he never even knew I existed.”

“Still...”

Cole shrugged. His mother Lauren’s marriage to billionaire Samuel Henderson, whose family owned Atlanta-based Coast Eagle Airlines, had been short-lived and heartbreaking for her. She’d never hidden Cole’s heritage from him, but she’d certainly warned him about the Henderson family.

“Eight dead,” said Luca, spinning the paper so the headline was right side up.

“Sounds like it all went to hell in the final seconds.” As a pilot, Cole empathized with in-air emergencies. He knew the pilots would have been fighting to safely land the airplane until the very end.

“Early speculation is a combination of icing and wind shear. That’s freakishly rare for Atlanta.”

“We all know how bad that can go.”

“An Alaskan pilot might have helped,” said Luca.

Cole didn’t argue that point. Pilots in Alaska had more experience than most in icy conditions.

He glanced over his shoulder at the headline once again. On a human level, he felt enormous sympathy for those who’d lost their lives, and his heart went out to their friends and family who had to go on without them. But for him personally, Samuel Henderson was nothing but a stranger who’d devastated his mother’s life thirty-two years ago.

By contrast, when his mother, Lauren, had passed away from cancer last year, Cole had mourned her deeply. He still missed her.

“They put up a picture of the baby on the website,” said Luca.

The article had mentioned that Samuel and his beautiful young wife, Coco, had a nine-month-old son, who, luckily, hadn’t accompanied them on the trip. But Samuel’s aging mother and several company executives had been on board when the family jet had crashed into the Atlanta runway.

“Cute kid,” Luca added.

Cole didn’t answer. He hadn’t seen the picture, and he had no plans to look at it. He wasn’t about to engage in the Henderson tragedy on any level.

Luca leaned forward, putting his face closer to Cole’s. “You do get it, right?”

“What’s to get?” Cole took a sideways step and started walking toward a hallway that led to the airline’s offices. November might be Aviation 58’s quietest month, but there was still plenty of work to do.

Luca walked beside him. “The kid, Zachary, is the sole survivor of that entire family.”

“I’m sure he’ll be well cared for.” For the first time, Cole felt an emotional reaction. He wasn’t proud, but it was resentment.

Immediately after their secret marriage in Vegas, Samuel had succumbed to his parents’ pressure to divorce Lauren. As a young woman, she’d walked away, newly pregnant. With only a few thousand dollars to her name, she’d boarded a plane for Alaska, terrified that the powerful family would find out about her baby and take him away from her.

Hidden in Alaska, she’d scraped and saved when Cole was young. Then he’d worked night and day to put himself through flight school and to build his own airline. Zachary, by contrast, would have an army of nannies and protectors to ensure he had everything a little boy could need—from chauffeurs to private schools and ski vacations in Switzerland.

“He’s all alone in the world.” Luca interrupted Cole’s thoughts.

“Hardly,” Cole scoffed.

“You’re his only living relative.”

“I’m not his relative.”

“You’re his half brother.”

“That’s just an accident of genetics.” There was nothing at all tying Cole to Zachary. Their lives were worlds apart.

“He’s only nine months old.”

Cole kept on walking across the cavernous hangar.

“If the Hendersons are as bad as Lauren said they were...” Luca’s voice trailed off again, leaving the bangs and shouts of the maintenance crew to fill in the silence.

Cole picked up his pace. “Those Hendersons are all dead.”

“Except for you and Zachary.”

“I’m not a Henderson.”

“You looked at your driver’s license lately?”

Cole tugged the heavy hallway door open. “You know what I mean.”

“I know exactly what you mean. The jackals in Atlanta might very well be circling an innocent baby, but you’d rather walk away from all this.”

“I don’t have to walk away from this. I was never involved in it to begin with.”

Cole’s operations manager, Carol Runions, poked her head out of her office. “One seventy-two has gone mechanical.”

Cole glanced at his watch. Flight 172, a ninety-passenger commuter jet, was due to take off for Seattle in twenty minutes. “Is maintenance on board?” he asked Carol.

“They’re on their way out there now. You want me to prep Five Bravo Sierra?”

“What’s the problem?” Luca asked her.

“Indicator light for cabin pressure.”

“Probably a faulty switch,” said Cole. “But let’s warm up Five Bravo Sierra.”

“You got it,” said Carol, heading back into her office.

“If we take the Citation, we can be there in four hours,” said Luca.

Cole stared at his partner in confusion. “There are ninety passengers on 172.” The Citation seated nine.

“I meant you and me.”

“Why would we go to Seattle?” And why did Luca think it would take them four hours to get there?

“Atlanta,” said Luca.

Cole’s jaw went lax.

“You gotta do it,” said Luca.

No, he didn’t. And Cole was done with talking about the Henderson family. Without answering, he turned to walk away, shaking his head as he went.

“You gotta do it,” Luca called after him. “You know as well as I do, the jackals are already circling.”

“Not my problem,” Cole called back.

The Atlanta Hendersons had gotten along perfectly well without him up to now. He had no doubt their i’s were dotted and t’s crossed for every possible life or death contingency. They didn’t need him, and he didn’t want them.

* * *

Amber Welsley folded her hands on the top of the massive inlaid-maple table in the formal dining room of the Henderson family mansion. She was one of a dozen people riveted on Max Cutter at the table’s head. Max’s suit was well cut, his gray hair neatly trimmed and his weathered expression was completely inscrutable as he drew a stack of papers from his leather briefcase.

From the finely upholstered chair next to hers, Amber’s friend Destiny Frost leaned in close. “Six lawyers in the same room. This is not going to end well.”

“Seven lawyers,” Amber whispered back.

Destiny’s glance darted around. “Who’d I miss?”

“You. You’re a lawyer.”

“Yeah, but I’m the good guy.”

Amber couldn’t help flexing a tiny smile. She appreciated the small break in the tension.

Max was about to read Samuel Henderson’s last will and testament. The others gathered in the room had an enormous amount at stake—about a billion dollars and control of Coast Eagle Airlines. But the only thing that mattered to Amber was Zachary. She hoped whatever arrangements Samuel and her stepsister, Coco, had made for the baby’s guardianship would allow Amber to stay a part of his life.

Amber was ten years older than Coco, and the two had never been close. But Amber had been instrumental in her stepsister meeting Samuel at a Coast Eagle corporate function two years ago, and Coco’s pregnancy had brought them closer together for a short time. Since then, Amber had felt a special kinship with Zachary.

Across the wide table from her, vice president of operations Roth Calvin shifted in his seat. Since the day the company’s president, Dryden Dunsmore, had been killed in the plane crash, the three vice presidents had been running the show. Now Samuel’s will would reveal who would get control of Coast Eagle.

Whoever it was would control Roth Calvin’s future. Much further down the corporate ladder, as assistant director of finance, Amber didn’t much care who took over the helm of the company. Her day-to-day job as an accountant wasn’t about to change.

“My personal apologies for the delay in scheduling this reading,” Max opened, his gaze going around the room. “But there were several complexities to this case due to the number of deaths involved.”

Amber’s throat thickened. She quickly swallowed to combat the sensation. Poor Coco had only been twenty-one.

“I’ll start with Jackie Henderson’s will,” said Max. “I’ll follow that with her son, Samuel’s, which was written jointly with his wife, Coco. In addition, there is a small codicil, executed by Coco alone. I would caution you all to draw no conclusions until I’ve finished reading all three.”

Max straightened the papers. “Aside from some small bequests to friends and long-time staff members, and a generous donation of ten million dollars to the Atlanta arts community, Jackie Henderson has left her estate to her son, Samuel, including her twenty-five percent ownership of Coast Eagle Airlines.”

Nobody in the room reacted to Max’s statements, and they gave only a cursory glance to the list of bequests handed around. That Samuel was Mrs. Henderson’s heir was completely expected. And though Mrs. Henderson had been an exacting and irritable old woman, she had long been a patron of the arts.

“As to the last will and testament of Samuel Henderson...” said Max.

Everyone stilled in their seats.

Max looked down at a page in front of him. “Mr. Henderson has also left a list of small, specific bequests, and has made several charitable donations, also ten million dollars to the Atlanta arts community, along with an additional ten million dollar scholarship to the Georgia Pilots Association.”

Max took a sip of water. “As to the bulk of Mr. Henderson’s estate, I’ll read directly from the document. ‘My entire estate is left in trust, in equal shares, to my legitimate children. So long as my wife, Coco Henderson, remains guardian of my children, and until they reach the age of majority, business decisions pertaining to the children’s interest in Coast Eagle Airlines will be made by Dryden Dunsmore.’”

There was a collective intake of breath in the room, followed by murmured sidebar conversations.

“Well, there’s a complexity,” Destiny whispered to Amber.

It was obvious Samuel had not contemplated Dryden Dunsmore dying along with him.

Max cleared his throat, and everyone fell silent.

“‘Should my wife predecease me,’” he continued, “‘guardianship of my minor children will go to Roth Calvin.’”

The room went completely silent, and a dozen gazes swung to Roth. He held his composure for a full ten seconds, but then an uncontrollable smile curved his thin lips, gratification glowing in the depths of his pale blue eyes.

A buzz of conversation came up in the room.

Roth turned to the lawyer on his right. His tone was low, but Amber heard every word. “With Dryden out of the picture, do I have control over the shares?”

The lawyer nodded.

Roth’s smile grew wider and more calculating.

“The codicil,” Max interrupted the various discussions.

People quieted down again, and Roth’s expression settled into self-satisfaction.

“To give some context to this...” said Max. “And I do apologize for being so direct on such an emotional matter. Samuel Henderson was pronounced dead at the accident scene, while Coco Henderson was pronounced dead during the ambulance ride to the hospital.”

Amber’s stomach tightened. She’d been assured Coco had not regained consciousness after the crash, but she couldn’t help but be reminded of the fear and horror her stepsister must have experienced in those final seconds while the plane attempted to land in the storm.

“As such, Samuel is deemed to have predeceased his wife.” Max held a single sheet of paper. “Given that fact, Coco Henderson’s codicil is legal and valid. It modifies the joint will in only one way.” He read, “‘I leave guardianship of my child or children to my stepsister, Amber Welsley.’”

Amber could feel shock permeate the room. Jaws literally dropped open and gazes swung to her. Roth’s glare sent a wave of animosity that nearly pushed her backward.

Beneath the table, Destiny grasped her hand.

“What about business decisions?” Roth barked. “That woman is in no position to run the company. She’s an assistant.”

“Assistant director,” Destiny corrected.

Amber was in a management position, not a clerical one.

Roth sneered at them both. “Samuel clearly wanted someone qualified in charge of business decisions on behalf of his son.”

“It’s a valid question,” said Max. “For the moment, Amber Welsley has guardianship over Zachary, including all rights and responsibilities to manage and safeguard his ownership position in Coast Eagle.”

“But—” Roth began.

Max held up a hand to forestall him. “For any changes to that, you’ll need a decision from a judge.”

“You can bet we’re going to a judge,” spat Roth.

Amber whispered to Destiny, “What does this all mean?”

“It means we’re going to court to duke it out with Roth. And it means he just became your mortal enemy. But right now, it also means you get Zachary.”

Amber’s chest swelled tight. Zachary would stay with her. For now, nothing else mattered.

* * *

Walking through the entrance of the Atlanta hotel ballroom, Cole gazed at the crowds of people attending the Georgia Pilots Association annual fund-raiser. Tonight was the formal recognition of the new Samuel Henderson Memorial Scholarship, so he knew the who’s who of Coast Eagle Airlines would be in the room.

Luca was beside him, dressed in a formal suit. “You’ll be glad you came.”

“I’ll mostly be glad if it shuts you up.”

Cole had told himself a thousand times that the Hendersons of Atlanta were none of his business, and he still believed it. But Luca had kept after him for three long weeks. Finally, Cole had given in and checked out a picture of Zachary on a news site.

The baby was cuter than he’d expected, and his face had seemed strangely familiar. But Cole chalked it up to the power of suggestion. When you started looking for a family resemblance, everything took on new meaning. Sometimes gray eyes were simply gray eyes.

But once he’d scratched the surface, he’d ended up reading the rest of the article, learning there was a court challenge for guardianship. He didn’t necessarily agree with Luca that everyone involved was a jackal out to get the kid’s money. But he did find himself analyzing the players.

In the end, his curiosity won out, and he agreed to make the trip to Atlanta. He had no intention of marching up to the front door and introducing himself as a long-lost relative. He was staying under the radar, checking things out and returning to Alaska just as soon as he confirmed Zachary was safe.

“Right there,” said Luca. “In the black dress, lace sleeves, brown hair, kind of swooped up. She’s at the table below the podium. She’s moving right now.”

As Cole zeroed in on Amber Welsley, she turned, presenting him with a surprisingly pretty profile.

Her diamond jewelry flashed beneath the bright lights, accenting her feminine face. Her dress was classic, a scooped neckline, three-quarter-length lace sleeves that blended to a form-fitting bodice and a narrow skirt that emphasized her trim figure.

From this distance, she surprised him. She wasn’t at all what he’d expected. She was younger, softer, insidiously captivating. While he stared at her, the wholly inappropriate thought that she was kissable welled up in his mind.

“You want to go over and say hi?” asked Luca.

The true answer was no. Cole wanted to get on an airplane and fly back to Alaska.

He might as well get this over with. Checking out Amber and all the other characters in this family drama was his purpose in being here. There wasn’t any point waiting.

“Let’s do it,” he said.

“Roth Calvin’s at the next table,” said Luca as they walked. “He’s facing us, talking to the guy with red hair, in the steel-gray jacket.”

“I think you missed your calling as a spy.”

Luca grinned. “I’m calling dibs on the one named Destiny.”

“Who’s Destiny?”

“She was in a couple of the photos with Amber Welsley. She’s hot. And with a name like that, I’m definitely giving her a shot.”

Cole shook his head. “She’s all yours, buddy. I just want to make sure the kid’s okay.” Then any duty he might have as a blood relative would be done.

“By kid, you mean your baby brother?”

“Yeah, that’s not a phrase we’ll be using.”

“Boggles the mind, doesn’t it?”

“You’re going to have to be boggled all by yourself. I won’t be here long enough.”

“You want a wingman for the intro?”

“Sure. But don’t use the name Henderson.”

“Undercover. I like it.”

“I’ll use Cole Parker. My middle name.”

“Right behind you, Cole Parker.”

The closer they drew to the Coast Eagle tables, the more beautiful Amber became. Her hair wasn’t brown, but a rich chestnut with highlights that shimmered under the bright stage lights. It was half up, half down in a tousled bundle with wisps flowing over her temples and down her back. The scalloped neckline of her dress showed off an expanse of creamy skin, while the lace across her shoulders played peekaboo with his imagination.

Her eyes were deep blue, fringed with dark lashes. Her full lips were dark red, her cheeks enticingly flushed. He had a sudden vision of her clambering naked into his bed.

She turned as he approached, caught his stare and gave him an obviously practiced smile. He realized hundreds if not thousands of people must have introduced themselves and offered their condolences in the past weeks.

“Amber Welsley?” he asked her, offering his hand.

“I am.”

“I’m Cole Parker from Aviation 58. My condolences on your loss.”

“Thank you, Mr. Parker.” She shook his hand.

The soft warmth of her palm seemed to whisper through his skin. He felt a ripple of awareness move up his arm and along the length of his body. Her expression flinched, and for a second he thought she’d felt it, too. But then her formal smile was back in place, and she was moving on.

Cole quickly spoke again to keep her attention. “This is my business partner, Luca Dodd.”

“Please call me Luca.”

“And I’m Cole,” Cole put in, feeling like an idiot for not having said it right away.

“Aviation 58 was looking to contribute to the Samuel Henderson fund,” said Luca.

Cole’s stomach twisted, and he shot Luca a glare of annoyance.

Where had that come from? There was no way on earth Cole was contributing to something with Samuel’s name on it.

“It’s a very worthy cause,” said Amber. But then she caught Cole’s expression. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” he quickly answered.

“You look upset.”

“I’m fine.”

She canted her head to one side, considering him. “You don’t agree that the pilot scholarship is a worthy cause?”

“I believe what Luca meant is that we’re thinking of setting something up in parallel. With Georgia Pilots, but not necessarily...” How exactly was he going to phrase this?

“Not necessarily in honor of Samuel Henderson?” Amber finished for him.

Cole didn’t know how to respond to the direct challenge. He didn’t want to lie, but he didn’t want to insult her, either.

“You have a spare ten million hanging around to match Coast Eagle?” she asked.

“Ten million is a little out of our league,” Cole admitted.

Her blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Did you know Samuel?”

“I never met him.”

The suspicious expression didn’t detract at all from her beauty, and Cole experienced an urge to sweep back her hair and kiss the delicate curve of her neck.

“So you disliked him from afar?” she asked.

“I didn’t...” This was getting worse by the second. Cole gave himself a mental shake. “I knew people who knew him.”

“Amber?” prompted a man at her elbow.

Cole clenched his jaw at the interruption.

“Five minutes to introductions,” said the man.

“Thanks, Julius.” She glanced at Luca for a moment before settling her attention back on Cole. “It looks like I need to take my seat. It was a pleasure to meet you, Cole Parker.”

“Are you always this polite?”

“Do you want me to be rude?”

Cole was the one who’d been rude. “This conversation didn’t go the way I expected.”

“Maybe you could try again some other time.”

“What are you doing later?” He hadn’t intended the question to sound intimate, but it did.

She didn’t miss a beat. “I believe I’m eating crab cocktail and chicken Kiev, giving a short, heartfelt speech on behalf of the Henderson family, then relieving the nanny and going to sleep.”

“Zachary?” Cole took advantage of the opening.

“He’ll be having his bath about now. He likes splashing with the blue duck and chewing on the washcloth.”

“Are you staying for the dance?”

“I doubt it.”

“Will you stay for the dance?”

She hesitated. “You think you’ll do better if we’re dancing?”

“I’ll try not to insult the evening’s deceased honoree.”

“You set a high bar.”

“Underpromise and overdeliver.”

The man named Julius returned, touching Amber’s arm. “Amber?”

“Goodbye for now,” she told Cole with a smile.

Though her expression was more polite than warm, he decided to take the words as encouraging.

“What the hell was that?” Luca muttered as she walked away.

“Contributing to his scholarship?” asked Cole. “Where did you expect me to go from there?”

“You choked.”

“We are not contributing to his scholarship.”

“You made that much clear.”

They turned to wind their way between tables.

“She’s not what I expected,” said Cole as they returned to the back half of the big ballroom.

“She has two arms, two legs, speaks English. What did you expect?”

“I don’t know.” Cole struggled to organize his thoughts. “Snobbish, maybe, polished and conniving.”

“She looked pretty polished to me.”

“She’s beautiful, but that’s not the same thing.”

“She’s a knockout. Do you actually think she’ll dance with you?”

“Why not?”

“Because you choked, and I’m sure she has other offers.”

“I’m staying optimistic.”

As the lights went dim and the applause came up, Cole made up his mind to approach her as soon as the dinner was over. This was by far his best chance to mingle with the Hendersons and Coast Eagle without revealing his identity, and he wanted to get it done and over with.

Two

Amber couldn’t wait to get out of the ballroom. Her first choice on a Saturday night was to stay home with Zachary, tucked in her jammies with a cup of hot chocolate and an old movie. But she was the closest thing there was to a member of the Henderson family, and somebody had to graciously accept the pilots association’s thanks.

Unlike her sister, Coco, Amber never attended highbrow events. Consequently, everything she wore tonight was new. Her feet were killing her in the ridiculous high heels. Her push-up bra was digging into her ribs, the lace scratching her skin. And the tight dress, chosen by Destiny, who insisted it was perfect, was restricting her movements so that she couldn’t even cross her legs under the table.

The MC ended a string of thank-yous with a request for applause to compliment the catering staff. As the clapping died down, the music came up, signaling the start of the dance.

Amber breathed a sigh of relief. All that was left was to politely make her way toward the exit, find a cab and get home. She stood, tucking her tiny purse under her arm.

A fiftysomething woman she vaguely recognized grasped her hand to shake it. “Lovely speech, Ms. Welsley. Lovely speech.”

“Thank you.”

The woman’s expression turned serious. “Even in such tragic circumstances, the Henderson family is having a positive impact on the community.”

“Samuel was a very generous man,” Amber responded by rote, though she had her own private thoughts on Samuel’s character, most particularly his decision to marry her beautiful, impetuous, nineteen-year-old stepsister.

Amber had initially kept her distance from the couple, regretting many times the decision to bring Coco to the company party where the two had met. But then Coco had become pregnant, and Amber had been drawn back into the drama of Coco’s life.

“Excuse me, Ms. Welsley,” came a male voice.

The woman seemed reluctant to step back to give way.

“Good evening.” Amber smiled at the new man, taking his offered hand, mentally calculating how long it would take her to run the gauntlet to the exit. It would be an hour or more at this pace. She truly didn’t think she could stand that long in these shoes. For a nonsensical moment, she pictured herself toppling over onto the ballroom floor.

“I’m Kevin Mathews from Highbush Unlimited. I wonder if I might give you my card.”

Amber kept her smile in place. “Certainly, Mr. Mathews.”

He dug into his inside pocket for a business card. “We’re a charitable organization, focused on environmental rehabilitation, primarily in the northwest. I know a lot about Mr. Henderson and Coast Eagle, and I can’t help imagining that he would have been a supporter of the environmental rehabilitation.”

Amber doubted that Samuel had given much thought to the environment, since he flew around in a private jet, air-conditioned the heck out of his mansion and owned several gas-guzzling luxury cars.

But she took the card the man offered. “I’d be happy to pass this along to Coast Eagle’s Community Outreach Unit.”

His expression faltered. “If you have some time now, I could outline for you our—”

“There you are,” came a deeper male voice. “I believe it’s time for our dance.”

Cole Parker appeared by her side, his arm held out, a broad smile on his face.

Amber couldn’t tell if he was rescuing her or about to pitch something himself. But she quickly estimated that the dance floor was more than halfway to the exit. That was progress. She returned his smile and took his arm.

“Please excuse me,” she said to Kevin.

Kevin’s expression faltered, but he had little choice but to let her go.

Cole guided her through the crowd, keeping their pace brisk enough to discourage the people who looked as though they might approach. It was hard on her feet, particularly her baby toes, but there was no option but to keep walking. Gradually, the crowd thinned near the dance floor.

“Am I out of the frying pan and into the fire?” she asked him.

“I’m not hitting you up for a donation, if that’s what you mean.”

“Good to hear.” She wasn’t sure what he wanted, but he was persistent enough that he had to be after something.

“I brought you a gift,” he told her.

“Bribery? That’s a bit blatant, don’t you think?”

“I believe in getting straight to the point.” He lifted his palm.

She glanced down, squinting. “You bought me a pair of...socks?”

“Dancing slippers. I got them from a vending machine in the lobby.” He glanced down at her black-and-gold four-inch heels. “Unless I miss my guess, those are two-hour shoes.”

She grimaced. “Is that what they call them?” It was an apt name.

She knew she should be suspicious of his motives, but she couldn’t help but feel grateful.

“Over here.” He pointed to a couple of empty chairs at the edge of the dance floor. “Have a seat.”

She eased down, deciding to accept the gift and remove the torture chambers from her feet. How much could she possibly be indebted to him for a pair of vending-machine dancing slippers?

She unbuckled the straps and slipped her feet free.

“I went with medium.” He handed her the black-satin, ballet-style slippers.

Slipping them onto her feet, she nearly groaned out loud. “They’re so soft.”

He bent to pick up her shiny heels, dangling them from his fingertips for a moment before setting them down. “These are ridiculous.”

She rose with him. “This is an important event for Coast Eagle. And Destiny says they make my calves look longer.”

“Your calves are already the perfect length.” He set the shoes on the chair.

“You’re not even looking at them.”

“I can tell by your height.” He offered his arm again. “Shall we?”

“I suppose it’s the least I can do, since you saved my feet. But you have to make me a promise.”

“Sure.”

She took his arm. “After the dance, walk me to the exit.” She glanced discreetly around. “For some reason, nobody’s bothering me when I’m with you.”

“Were they bothering you before?”

“All evening long.” She’d never experienced anything like it. “Donations, jobs and pictures. Why on earth would anybody want their picture taken with me?”

“Because you’re beautiful?” He drew her into his arms.

“Ha, ha.” Coco had been beautiful. Amber was, well, sensible. She was very sensible.

Not that sensible was a bad thing. And she truly didn’t mind her looks. Her eyes were a pleasant shade of blue. Her nose wasn’t too big. Her hair was slightly curly and had its good days and bad days. Today it had been tamed by a team of professionals, so it looked pretty good. She had to say, though, she wasn’t crazy about the sticky feeling from all the products they’d used at Chez Philippe.

“I wasn’t joking,” said Cole.

“We both know you’ve got a lot of ground to make up for from earlier,” she said, settling into the rhythm of the music.

“True,” he agreed.

“So anything you say or do is suspect.”

“You’re pretty tough to compliment, you know that?”

“There’s no need. I’m over the fact that you didn’t like Samuel.”

He paused as if weighing his next words. “You’re a very good dancer.”

She couldn’t tell if he was mocking her or not. She’d certainly never spent much time perfecting dance steps. Was he trying to kowtow, or was he simply making small talk? Or maybe he was just getting off the topic of Samuel.

“So are you,” she answered neutrally. “I can’t remember where you said you were from.”

“Alaska. Are you changing the subject?”

“From me to you? Yes. You’re about out of things to compliment. Unless you like my hair.”

“I like your hair.”

“Good. It cost a lot of money to get it this way. Now back to you.”

“Aviation 58 is in Juneau. The state capital. It’s on the panhandle.”

“You’re a pilot?”

“I am. I’m also one of the owners of the airline.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

Coast Eagle flew to Seattle and California, but they didn’t venture into the north. “We’re regional.”

She tipped her head back to look at him. “And what brought you to Atlanta, Cole Parker?”

He gave a small shrug. “It’s December. Have you seen a weather report for Alaska?”

“Not recently. Maybe never.”

“It’s cold up there.”

“So you’re on vacation?”

“For a few days, yes.”

For the first time, she allowed herself to take a good look at his face. She realized he was an astonishingly handsome man, deep gray eyes, a straight nose, square chin, all topped with thick, dark hair, cut short and neat. She couldn’t detect aftershave or shampoo, but there was something fresh and clean about his scent.

He was probably six-two. His shoulders were square, body fit and trim. And his big, square hands seemed strong and capable where they held her. In a flash, she realized she was attracted to him.

“Amber?” His deep voice startled her. That sound was another thing she liked about him.

“Yes?”

“I asked if there was anything in particular we should see.”

Had he? How had she missed that?

She quickly corralled her thoughts. “The botanical gardens are beautiful. Or you can do outdoor ice-skating. My favorite is Atlantic Station. A little shopping, a little Christmas-light gazing, some hot chocolate.” She couldn’t help thinking about Zachary and the Christmas events he might enjoy as he got older.

She’d easily come to love seeing him every day. He was a bit fussy in the evenings, but the poor little guy had been through a lot. His mother and father were both gone, and he had no way of knowing why it was happening.

She was doing her best to substitute. And she’d wrapped her head around the possibility of raising a baby. Though she couldn’t yet imagine her life with a child, a school-age child, then a teenager, then a young man. When she thought that far ahead, she feared she wasn’t capable of pulling it off. But she knew she had to come through for him. She was all he had.

She felt a sudden urge to rush home and hold him in her arms, reassure him that she’d figure it out.

“Are we close to the exit?” she asked Cole, thinking she could slip out and get herself home.

“I’ll dance you over there,” said Cole. “Tired?”

“Partly. But this isn’t exactly my thing.”

“I thought the über-rich thrived on fresh crab, Belgian torte and champagne.”

“I’m not über-rich.” Though she could understand how he would make that mistake. Lately, everybody seemed to assume that guardianship of Zachary made her an instant billionaire. It was far more complicated than that.

“Right,” he drawled.

She didn’t want to have this debate. “Thank you for the dance, Cole.”

His expression turned serious. “I did it again, didn’t I? Stuffed my foot in my mouth?”

“Not at all. I am tired, and I really appreciate you escorting me across the ballroom. It was going to take hours at the rate I was going.”

“I’ll get you to the front doors,” he offered.

“That’s not necessary.”

“It’s my pleasure.” His hand dropped to the small of her back. “I’ll glower at anyone who tries to talk to us along the way.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that. And, to be truthful, it did seem like a prudent course of action. The lobby and foyer were full of people. Her name and face had been in the news for the past three weeks, so she was easily recognized.

“Then, thank you,” she told him.

“Let’s go.”

He picked up the pace, drawing her across the mezzanine floor lobby and down two sets of elevators. People stared as they passed but didn’t approach them. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if he’d consider a permanent gig as her escort. This was certainly more pleasant than her trek into the event.

“The doorman will get me a cab,” she told Cole as they came to the glass front.

“No need. I have a car right here.”

“Cole—”

“And a driver,” he finished, moving through the front door. “I’m not plotting to get you alone. I’ll get you home safe and sound, nothing else.”

As she stepped onto the sidewalk, she felt its cold hardness through the dancing slippers, and her memory kicked in. “My shoes.” She turned. “I left my shoes upstairs.”

“I’ll go back for them,” he offered. “You don’t need to walk all that way again.”

“Taxi, sir?” the doorman inquired.

“I’ve got a car waiting,” Cole answered, handing the man a tip. “A sedan for Aviation 58.”

“I’ll have it brought around,” the doorman answered.

“I can’t take your car,” said Amber. How had this gotten so complicated?

“Where are you going?” asked Cole.

“Fifth Avenue and Eighty-Ninth.”

“It’ll only take ten minutes to get you there.”

A black car pulled up in front of them and Cole opened the door.

Amber decided to go with the flow. The sooner she got going, the sooner she’d be home with Zachary. She climbed in, and Cole shut the door behind her.

But before they pulled away, he surprised her by hopping in the other side.

“I thought you were going back for my shoes.”

“I’ll do that after we get you home. Fifth Avenue and Eighty-Ninth,” he said to the driver.

“That’s ridiculous.”

She couldn’t understand why he’d make the round trip for nothing. Unless he was worried she’d commandeer his car for a joyride. Though she doubted the driver would let her do that.

As they pulled out of the turnaround and onto the street, she clicked through other possibilities. He’d been intensely persistent, awfully complimentary and easy to get along with, and he’d stuck to her like glue. What could he be after?

And then it came to her. The man owned an airline, a small regional West Coast airline that was likely looking to expand. She instantly realized the vacation story was a cover. Cole was here to do business.

She angled herself in the seat, facing him. “You’re after our Pacific routes.”

“Excuse me?”

“I figured it out. You’re thinking Samuel’s death makes Coast Eagle vulnerable. You’re hoping we’ll be looking to downsize, and you think you can get your hands on the Pacific routes to expand Aviation 58.”

He stared at her for a long moment.

“You’ve been way too friendly,” she elaborated. “You overplayed your hand.”

“Maybe I’m simply attracted to you.”

She gazed down at the fancy dress. She did look better than usual, but Cole was still out of her league. “There were far more beautiful women at the event tonight.”

“I didn’t see them.” The sincerity in his expression was quite impressive.

“Nice try. It’s the routes.”

“You see that as the only possible explanation?”

“I do.”

“Then, I admit it. It’s the routes. Will you sell them to me?”

She leaned back in the seat. “I don’t know why everybody thinks I have so much power. I’m the assistant director of finance. There’s still a board of directors in place, and the vice presidents are in charge of operations until they name a new president.”

“But as Zachary’s guardian, you control board appointments.”

“Theoretically.”

If she kept custody of Zachary, that would be true. But before that could ever happen, she had a big fight with Roth on her hands.

“There’s nothing theoretical about it,” said Cole. “The board answers to the shareholders, and the president answers to the board, and everyone else answers to the president. You can do anything you want.”

“But I won’t. I have my own job at Coast Eagle, and I’m not about to muscle in on anyone else’s.”

“It’s your responsibility.” There was an unexpected hardness to Cole’s tone. “It’s your responsibility to Zachary to take control of the company.”

She turned to look at him again. “It’s my responsibility to Zachary to ensure the company is well run. That doesn’t mean I make any particular decision.”

His dark eyes were implacable. “Yes, it does.”

“Well, Mr. Cole Parker, owner of Aviation 58 in Alaska, you are certainly entitled to your opinion. And I’m more than entitled to ignore it.”

He opened his mouth but then obviously thought better of speaking.

The car came to a halt at the curb.

“The Newmont Building?” the driver asked. “Or are you in Sutten’s Edge?”

“This is it,” said Amber, feeling anxious to get away. “Joyce Roland is the director of planning,” she said to Cole. “You can ask her about the Pacific routes, but she may not take your call.”

The driver had come around and now swung open her door.

“Thank you for the ride. Good night, Cole.”

A small smile played on his lips. “You’re very polite.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Good night, Amber. Thank you for the dance.”

A sudden rush of warmth enveloped her, and she found her gaze dropping from his eyes to his lips. For a fleeting second, she imagined him kissing her good-night.

She shook away the wayward feeling and quickly exited the car. Zachary was upstairs waiting, and Roth was in the wings with a team of high-priced lawyers. Amber didn’t have time for kisses or fantasies or anything else.

* * *

Cole advanced through the hotel lobby, heading for the escalators that would take him back to the ballroom.

It didn’t take him long to spot Luca coming the other way, a pretty blond woman at his side.

“There you are,” said Luca as they met. “I wondered what had happened to you.”

“I left something in the ballroom,” said Cole.

“This is Destiny Frost. Turns out, she’s a friend of Amber Welsley.” Luca’s expression was inscrutable.

Cole played along, pretending Luca hadn’t planned to meet Destiny. “Nice to meet you.” He offered his hand.

She shook, and hers was slim and cool. “It’s a pleasure.”

“I offered Destiny a ride home,” said Luca. “You coming with us?” His expression told Cole a third wheel would not be particularly welcome.

Cole tipped his chin toward the escalator. “I have to grab something upstairs. Can you swing back and get me later?”

Luca gave a satisfied smile. “Will do.”

“Luca says you’re from Alaska?” asked Destiny.

“We are,” Cole replied.

“I’ve never been there.”

“It’s beautiful, magnificent.”

“It must be cold.”

Luca stepped in. “I’ve already offered to keep her warm.”

Destiny smiled and shook her head. “He’s shameless.”

“But harmless,” said Cole, intending to be reassuring, but also being honest. Luca was a perfect gentleman.

“I’ll text you on the way back?” asked Luca.

“Sounds good.” With a nod to both of them, Cole headed for the escalator.

He was going against the crowd, most people on their way out of the event. So he easily made it to the ballroom and headed for the chair where they’d parked Amber’s shoes.

To his surprise, they were gone.

“Seriously?” he muttered out loud.

He glanced around at the departing crowd. At an event this highbrow, somebody was going to steal a pair of shoes?

Then he caught a glint of gold in one of the waiter’s hands. He squinted. It was definitely Amber’s shoes. The man was headed toward a side exit.

Cole made a beeline after him, feeling better about human nature. The waiter obviously thought they’d been abandoned and was taking them to the hotel’s lost and found.

Cole wound his way through the tables and took the same exit, coming out into a long dim hallway. One direction obviously led to the kitchen, the other down a narrow flight of stairs. It seemed unlikely that the lost and found was in the kitchen, so he took the stairs.

At the bottom, he spotted the guy about thirty yards away. He called out, and the man turned.

“The shoes,” called Cole.

Before he could say anything more, the man bolted, running a few steps before shoving open a side exit.

“Are you kidding me?” Cole shouted, breaking into a run.

He burst through the side door, finding himself in an alley. He quickly scanned the area and spotted the guy at a run. He sprinted after the man. When he caught up, he grasped the guy’s left arm and spun him around, bringing him to a sliding halt.

“What’s going on?” Cole gasped. “You’re stealing a pair of shoes?”

“They’re my girlfriend’s.” The man was gasping for breath.

“They’re my girlfriend’s.” As he spoke, Cole couldn’t help but take note of the man’s unshaven face, and the rather wild look in his eyes. “You’re not a waiter.”

The man reached in his pants pocket and pulled a knife, flicking open a six-inch blade and holding it menacingly out in front of him.

“They’re shoes,” said Cole, adrenaline rushing into his bloodstream. Admittedly, they were nice shoes. And given the Hendersons’ wealth, they were likely ridiculously expensive. But what could they possibly bring this guy on the black market?

The man snarled. “Do yourself a favor and walk away.”

No way was that happening. Cole was returning Amber’s property to her. “Give me the shoes.”

“You want to get hurt?”

Suddenly, a low growl sounded next to Cole. His skin prickled, and he glanced cautiously down. But the mangy dog was staring at the man with the knife. It didn’t seem to be threatening Cole.

“He’ll go for your throat,” Cole lied.

The man glanced furtively at the dog.

The dog growled again.

“Drop the knife, or he’ll attack.”

The man hesitated, and the dog took a step forward. The knife clattered to the ground, along with the shoes, and the man took two rapid steps backward. Then he spun around and ran.

Cole took in the medium-size dog that was now wagging its tail, obviously feeling proud of himself.

“Good job,” he told the mutt, patting its head, finding sticky, matted fur.

He looked closer and realized the animal was painfully thin. It had a wiry, mottled coat, mostly tan, but black on the ears and muzzle. Its brown eyes looked world-weary and exhausted.

“You a stray?” Cole found himself asking.

He moved to pick up the shoes. When he straightened, the dog was watching him patiently.

“You probably want a reward for all that.”

The dog blinked.

“I don’t blame you.” Cole blew out a breath. He supposed the least he could do was buy the animal a burger.

“Come on, then.” He started down the alley toward the brightly lit street. The dog trotted at his heels.

At the front of the hotel, Cole reported the incident to one of the doormen, who sent someone to retrieve the knife. Cole learned that they’d had previous trouble with a thief impersonating a waiter at large events. If the knife had fingerprints on it, they might be able to catch the guy. It seemed likely he’d stolen more than just the shoes tonight.

Duty done, Cole and the dog then made their way down the street until they came to a fast-food restaurant.

Thinking it was a fifty-fifty shot the mutt would wait, Cole left it outside while he purchased two deluxe hamburgers. He was hungry after the fancy little portions at the pilots association event, and a burger didn’t seem like the worst idea in the world.

When he returned to the street, the dog jumped to attention. It wolfed down the burger in two bites, so Cole gave it the second one, as well.

His phone chimed, and a text message told him Luca was sending back the empty car. Luca and Destiny were stopping for a nightcap.

Cole smiled at his friend’s luck, tossed the wrappers in the trash and headed back toward the hotel. Predictably, the dog followed along. It was sure to be disappointed when a meal didn’t appear at their next stop.

Cole took the animal back to the alley at the edge of the hotel property and pointed. “Go on, now,” he told it.

It looked up at him uncomprehendingly.

“Go home,” Cole commanded.

It didn’t move.

He made his voice sterner. “Go on.”

The dog ducked its head, eyes going sad.

Cole felt a shot to his chest.

He tried to steel himself against the guilt, but the effort didn’t pay off. He crouched down in front of the dog, scratching its matted neck and meeting its eyes. “I don’t know what you expect here.”

It pushed forward, nuzzling its nose against Cole’s thigh.

“Those are rented pants,” said Cole.

It pushed farther forward.

“I live in Alaska.”

Its tail began to wag.

“Crap.”

“Mr. Parker?” The driver appeared in Cole’s peripheral vision. “Are you ready to go, sir?”

Cole stood, drawing a deep sigh. “We’re ready.”

“We?”

“The dog’s coming, too.”

The driver glanced down at the scruffy animal. He hesitated, but then said, “Of course, sir.”

“Do you have a blanket or something to protect the seat?”

“I’ll get a newspaper from the doorman.”

“That’ll work,” said Cole. He looked to the dog. “You want to go for a car ride?”

Its head lifted. Its brow went up. And its tail wagged harder.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Cole knew he was making a stupid, emotional decision, one he’d likely regret very quickly. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave the animal behind.

He closed his eyes for a long moment. All this for a pair of shoes.

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