Cinderella's Billion-Dollar Christmas. Susan Meier

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her up; she might have had a rich dad who hadn’t wanted her at all.

      Once again, she thanked God for her adoptive parents.

      She took a seat beside her dad. “First, what I’m about to say is a secret. So, you can’t tell anybody.”

      Her mom said, “Okay,” as her dad nodded.

      “The guy in the overcoat was Nick Kourakis. He owns a management firm in New York, and he told me that I might have inherited some money.”

      Her dad’s weathered face brightened. A lifelong construction worker, he had wrinkles around his eyes that appeared when he smiled. “Well, that’s great!”

      Her mother gasped and walked over from the stove to hug Leni. “I’m so happy for you.”

      “Yeah, well, it’s not assured. I have to go to New York. There will also be a DNA test to confirm my identity. Honestly, I won’t quite believe all this is true until DNA says I’m an heir. So, our not mentioning this to anybody protects me from embarrassing myself if it doesn’t pan out.”

      Part of her almost wished it wouldn’t. If her biological father had been a struggling factory worker, she could have understood him not being able to take responsibility for her, but a guy who was rich and not paying child support, forcing her mom to give her up when she got sick? When it was a decision between the medicine she needed and feeding her child?

      It was demeaning, insulting, infuriating.

      She’d have to deal with that if Mark Hinton really was her biological father. Those feelings would all go away if he wasn’t.

      Her dad leaned back in his chair. “It’s always good not to get your hopes up, Kitten. But maybe this family’s due for some good luck?”

      And that was the catch. Part of her would like to tell Nick Kourakis to take her biological dad’s money and shove it. She was educated now. She had a career path. She would be fine.

      But her parents wouldn’t.

      They’d never ask her for a dime, but she wouldn’t make them ask. If she’d inherited enough money to care for her dad, she wanted it.

      “Okay.” She slid off her chair. “I’m going upstairs to do some investigating into everything. I’m not getting on a plane with a guy I don’t know.”

      Her dad smiled. “That’s smart, my girl.”

      The simple comment hit her right in the heart. She was his girl. His girl. Not the child of some sperm donor who’d never even checked to see if she was okay.

      That was not a father.

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      Almost twenty-four hours from when Leni had met him, Nick Kourakis and a man she didn’t recognize pulled into the driveway of the Long residence in the big, black SUV. Nick had looked up her parents’ home phone number and called her the night before to say they’d be leaving at ten o’clock. He’d given her time to research him and his firm, to talk to her parents and to pack for a couple weeks in Manhattan, but that was it. They needed to get her safely to New York.

      Her breath frosty in the cold, last-day-of-November air, she hugged and kissed her short, curly-haired mom and balding dad, saying goodbye at the front door of their house, her conflicted feelings about Mark Hinton dogging her.

      Nick handed Danny Manelli’s business card to her parents, telling them that he was the lawyer in charge of the estate and if they had any questions, they could call him. Then he introduced her to Jace MacDonald, the guy in the black leather jacket who directed her to the back seat of the SUV. Nick got in beside her.

      She frowned at the empty passenger’s seat in the front.

      “Jace owns Around the World Security. He’ll be your bodyguard while you’re in New York.”

      She gaped at Nick. “Bodyguard?”

      Jace caught her gaze in the rearview mirror. “Trust me. If you’re worth billions, you’ll need one.”

      She huffed out a breath. “Billions?”

      Nick laughed. “Yes. Mark Hinton had billions. With an s. Plural. As in many billions.”

      “I know. I researched him last night, too. It’s just so hard to believe.”

      She shook her head and looked out the window. The guy had billions and he had left her mom so broke she’d had to put Leni into foster care.

      The insult of it stiffened her spine.

      Jace made a few turns and they headed north. Twenty minutes later, he pulled the SUV onto a private airstrip. When they drove up to a sleek red and silver jet, she gasped. “Holy cow.”

      Nick laughed. “That plane is nothing. I’m just a simple billionaire.”

      She knew that, too. She’d spent forty minutes the night before reading about how successful the investment arm of his family’s money management firm was. What she hadn’t expected was that they’d be riding in his plane. Not when her biological father was supposed to have so much money.

      Something about that just seemed off.

      She faced Nick again. “This plane is yours?”

      “Yes.”

      He glanced over, catching her gaze, and her breath shivered.

      Damn it. Now was not the time to be feeling that stupid attraction she had to him. Not only did he seem to be in charge of her, but she was too confused about her potential biological dad to add an attraction into the mix. Plus, there was something wrong with Nick using his own plane to get her. This was not the man to be attracted to.

      Jace exited the SUV and came around to her door to open it. She climbed out at the same time Nick did.

      Nick led her to the small stack of stairs and into the jet. She had to hold back a gasp when she stepped inside. Three small groupings of white leather seats were arranged around the large cabin. The little windows had elegant gray shades. A silver and black bar sat discreetly in a back corner. A rich red carpet covered the floor.

      She took a slow, measured breath. She could not be a country bumpkin about this. She had to stay sharp.

      Pretending a calm she didn’t feel, she stopped by the first group of seats and slid out of her worn leather jacket.

      Behind her, Nick said, “The flight’s about three hours. Then, because we use an airstrip outside the city, we’ll have about an hour-and-a-half limo ride.”

      “Limo ride?” She swallowed, picturing her blue-collar self, in her ancient leather jacket and worn jeans, getting into a limo.

      He took her coat and handed it to the flight attendant who scurried to the back of the jet with it.

      “Don’t worry. You’ll acclimate. After a day or two in New York, you’ll realize a limo’s the easiest way to get around the city.

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