Cinderella's Billion-Dollar Christmas. Susan Meier

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so rich, she couldn’t even fathom the amount of money he had.

      “I’m not selling anything. I’m not even here on behalf of the money management firm. I was sent here to retrieve you.”

      “Retrieve me?” His sultry brown eyes held her captive, sending warmth swimming through her blood, confusing her, almost hypnotizing her.

      “Because I have some exciting news for you.”

      “Oh, yeah?” She fought the strange sensations assaulting her with sarcasm. “And what would that be?”

      “First, what I have to tell you has to remain confidential.”

      Some of her equilibrium returned. “Okay.”

      He leaned back on the bench. “Have you ever heard of Mark Hinton?”

      More of her confidence came back. Enough to put starch in her spine. “No.”

      “He’s a billionaire...or was. We have reason to believe you are one of the people mentioned in his will.”

      “Oh...” Her composure took a tumble. Imagining herself getting as much as ten thousand dollars and paying off some of the bills that had accumulated since her dad’s injury, she told her wishful-thinking brain to stop before she got her hopes up. “That’s good. Right?”

      “It could potentially be wonderful.”

      “Dude, wonderful to me is enough money to pay my dad’s medical bills.”

      “It’s more than that.”

      New thoughts scrambled around in her brain. Like buying her dad the service dog he needed because of his seizures, and not worrying about the company forcing him back to work.

      But as quickly as her good thoughts set up shop, some bad thoughts came tumbling in. Adopted at eight, after a year in foster care when her biological mom gave her up, she’d always believed she was not a lucky person. The way she’d struggled for eight years just to afford her basic bachelor’s degree backed that up. “What’s the catch?”

      “Before I say another word, I need your promise that you won’t talk about this with anyone until I tell you that you can.”

      A laugh bubbled out. “You want me to take a vow of silence?”

      “You are the first of three potential heirs to Mark Hinton’s estate. A huge estate. You can tell your parents, but that’s it. And they have to promise to keep this news to themselves. Frankly, it’s a matter of your personal safety.”

      It all seemed to so preposterous that it couldn’t sink in. As good as it would be to be rich, she was much too practical to believe in magic or miracles. It had to be a joke or a mistake.

      When she said nothing, he sighed. “Do you have your phone?”

      She pulled it out of her apron pocket.

      “Search Mark Hinton.”

      She did as he said, though she mumbled, “Anybody can put up a fake website.”

      But her phone produced eight thousand results for Mark Hinton. Her gaze leaped to Nick’s. “What is this?”

      “Information on his life.” He paused for a second before he added, “I was sent here by the law firm handling your dad’s estate. The attorney in charge is stuck in court today. He’s a friend of mine, and my family’s firm manages your father’s fortune, so I was picked to come in his place.”

      She barely heard anything after he said “your dad’s estate.” Her breath stumbled. “My dad’s?”

      She struggled to take it all in. Her biological mom hadn’t told her anything about her father. She would always say he wasn’t important, and they didn’t need him. At seven, she’d known that wasn’t true when her mom couldn’t afford to keep her anymore.

      “According to the estate lawyer, the paper trail says Mark Hinton is your father,” Nick said. “But they’ll be getting DNA.”

      She leaned back in disappointment and disbelief, her voice dull when she said, “My biological father was rich.”

      “One of the first multibillionaires.” Nick shifted. “If you let this get out before the estate has a chance to protect you, you will be mobbed by people who want money. You’ll be a target for scam artists and kidnappers. I came here not merely to tell you, but to take you to New York so the lawyer can make the process of vetting you easier for you.”

      Something Leni couldn’t define or describe fluttered through her, tightening her chest, making her head spin. She looked at the eight thousand results to her search and saw the words billionaire, reclusive, oil and gas prodigy and missing heirs.

      Her heart stopped then burst to life again with such a frantic beat she thought she’d faint. This would be more than enough money to care for her dad.

      “You think this guy is my father and I’m one of these heirs?”

      “The estate lawyer is fairly certain you’re one of the heirs. He says the paper trail is solid. But they’ll do a DNA test to confirm it.”

      Her voice came out as a squeak as she said, “Okay.”

      “For confidentiality purposes and for your safety, you have to go to New York now.” He paused long enough to catch her gaze. “Will you come with me?”

      Ten minutes ago, that offer probably would have scrambled her pulse. Now? The happy, flirty guy was gone. A businessman had replaced him.

      She almost missed the flirty guy. But her brain had been captured by the idea that she might be wealthy enough that her parents would no longer have to worry about money.

      Still, she wasn’t going to New York with a man she didn’t know, based solely on his word. “Give me a day?”

      “The plan was to leave as soon as we told you.”

      She shook her head. “I want a day. Twenty-four hours to explain all this to my parents and to check you out.”

      “I can provide you with references—”

      “No thanks. I’ll find what I need on my own.” She’d check every dark and moldy corner of the internet if she had to, to make sure he was for real.

      There was no way she’d leave for New York with a stranger. And no way she’d get her parents’ hopes up for nothing.

       CHAPTER TWO

      NICK KOURAKIS LEFT the diner, a mix of disappointment and confusion slowing his steps. He should have been focused on the fact that this unexpected trip was a chance to convince Leni Long to keep her dad’s money with his money management firm. But Danny Manelli, attorney for the estate, didn’t want him making a pitch to her. A clause

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