a state of total shock.
“Please continue, Harold,” her mother said, smoothing a strand of short, dark auburn hair into place.
“Very well, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Parsons said, using “miss” the way most older Southern gentlemen did with any lady, single or married. He read aloud the preliminary legalese, then clearing his throat, began to go through the list of her father’s assets. “‘Regarding my personal properties, I would like for them to be divided as such. To my son RJ, I leave the Great Oak Lodge in the Smoky Mountains. To my daughter Laurel, I leave my beach house on the Outer Banks. To my daughter Kara, I leave my vacation home on Hilton Head Island. To my son Matthew, I leave the Kincaid family farmhouse where we used to spend holidays. And to my daughter Lily, I leave the Colonel Samuel Beauchamp House in the Battery.’”
Tears filled Lily’s eyes. Her father had known how much she loved the historic homes in the Battery. It was one of the prettiest sections in Charleston and quite possibly the entire state of South Carolina. But she had been completely unaware that he owned one of the stately mansions in that area.
After outlining the money and properties her father wished to bequeath to Elizabeth and Angela, Mr. Parsons added, “When Reginald updated his will, he wrote these letters and asked me to give them to you at this time.” He passed each person in the room, except Elizabeth, a sealed envelope with their name on the front before he continued, “As for Reginald’s business holdings, they are to be divided up as follows. ‘RJ, Laurel, Kara, Matthew and Lily are each to receive nine percent interest in The Kincaid Group. My oldest son, Jack Sinclair, will receive forty-five percent interest.’”
Silence reigned for several long, uncomfortable moments as the gravity of her father’s last wishes sank in.
“What the hell!” RJ’s expression was a mixture of barely suppressed fury and total disbelief.
Lily gasped and the knot in her stomach turned to a sickening ache. How could their father do that to his children and especially to RJ, his oldest legitimate son? RJ had worked tirelessly for years as the executive vice president of The Kincaid Group and had been led to believe he would one day take over as president of the vast enterprise when their father decided it was time for him to retire. The news that their father had given the majority of the shares in the family business to Jack Sinclair was hard for all the Kincaid children to take, but it had to be completely devastating for RJ.
“That’s only ninety percent,” RJ said, his frown formidable. “Where’s the other ten?”
Mr. Parsons shook his head. “Due to attorney/client confidentiality, I’m not at liberty to say.”
The room erupted with heated allegations and threats of legal retaliation from both sides of the table and Lily felt as if the walls were closing in on her. She knew if she didn’t leave, she was going to be physically ill.
“I need … some air,” she said to no one in particular.
Rising to her feet, she stuffed the unopened letter from her father into her purse and blindly ran from the room. She wasn’t certain whether it was the news of her father’s complete betrayal of his legitimate family or the new life growing inside her that caused her to feel sick, but she had to escape the law office.
As she hurried down the hall to the reception area, she wasn’t paying attention and suddenly ran into someone standing as if rooted to the spot. Strong hands immediately came down on her shoulders to keep her from falling and when she looked up, her heart skipped several beats.
Of all the people she could have met up with in the law office, why did she have to run headlong into the owner and CEO of Addison Industries?
Daniel Addison was not only The Kincaid Group’s fiercest business competitor, he was the father of her unborn child. A baby he knew absolutely nothing about.
“Where’s the fire, sweetheart?” Daniel asked as he steadied the woman who, in the past couple of weeks, had treated him as if he had the plague.
“I need … air,” Lily said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Her unnatural pallor and the desperate look haunting her vibrant blue eyes caused his heart to stall. Yesterday afternoon when he attended Reginald Kincaid’s funeral, he had seen her upset. But this went beyond the grief of losing a loved one. Lily looked as if her whole world was crashing down around her.
“Come on,” he said, placing his arm around her shoulders and leading her toward the office exit.
“My family … I can’t leave,” she gasped.
Stopping at the receptionist’s desk, he quickly told the woman he would call and reschedule his appointment, then instructed her to get word to the Kincaid family that he was taking Lily home. As he led her out the double glass doors and onto the sidewalk, he watched her gulp in the cool January air and knew that she was seconds away from losing her breakfast. Guiding her over to a trash can, he held her long, red hair back while she was sick.
“Please, go away and let me die in peace,” she said when she finally raised her head.
“You’re not going to die, Lily,” he said, gently cupping her chin with one hand while he wiped the tears from her eyes with his handkerchief.
“I’m pretty sure you’re wrong.” She took a deep breath. “Right now I feel like death … would be a blessing.”
“Did you drive your car?” he asked.
“No, I rode … with Momma,” she said, her voice sounding a bit more steady.
He put his arm around her and tucked her to his side as he ushered her toward the parking garage across the street. “Good. I won’t have to send someone back to get it.”
“I can’t leave,” she said, starting to turn back toward the law offices of Parsons, Gilbert and Humbolt.
He held her firmly to his side. “This isn’t negotiable, Lily. You’re upset to the point of making yourself sick.” Opening the passenger door of his diamond-white Mercedes for her, Daniel nodded toward the inside of the car. “Get in. I’m taking you home.”
“You’re being a bully about this,” she said stubbornly.
Daniel shook his head. “No, I’m making an executive decision. Now, will you please get into the car or am I going to have to pick you up and put you there?”
She glared at him. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me, sweetheart.”
They stared at each other for several seconds in a test of wills before she finally moved to sit down in the leather bucket seat. “Fine. Take me home and then you can be on your way.”
He closed the door and walked around the car to slide into the driver’s seat. “We’ll see about that.”
Considering her emotions at the moment, Daniel wasn’t about to upset her further by telling her that he wasn’t leaving her alone until he was certain she was going to be okay. He might be many things—ruthless in business, arrogant and fierce when he was in competition for a new client and jaded about most things in life—but he wasn’t an uncaring bastard who left an obviously distraught female to fend for herself. Especially when that female was Lily Kincaid.
For
